#'it's just the two of us in the house now and the truth is...i'm afraid of betty. sometimes the way she looks at me...i think she's going t

[inutaffy]

[charliemwrites]

Nikto's Commandments part 8! (and the first half of the Jealousy Duet).

I'll be honest, I got stuck with this one! For some reason I just couldn't get a good flow going and had to try writing this a few different times. I think it shows in the beginning, but I get the rhythm back towards the end.

Also, apologies if there are more errors than usual. I kind of powered through it and am too afraid I'm going to hate it if I try to read it over.

Anyway, please enjoy as always <3

Content: Jealousy, Acts of Devotion, Declarations of Love, Kissing

It’s your first mission since Nikto failed you.

(You may have forgiven him. He’s even accepted that you have, merciful as you are. But that doesn’t change the truth of what happened – that he failed you. That he left your side, and then almost didn’t return. You’ve forbade him from hanging himself with “almost,” but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel the noose around his throat.)

You’re long since healed and recovered under Nikto’s devoted watch. Nurturing may not come naturally to him, but he’d bend himself into any shape for your use. So, he made himself into your caregiver. Weeks of helping you sit up, walk, bathe… until you were back in the gym, right by his side, gritting your teeth through physical therapy.

A scar is all that’s left now, silvery and tender. The only sign that Nikto’s world nearly bled away on dirty concrete. A reminder of his failure, his disgrace. How could he possibly deserve a place at your side, when he couldn’t even protect you? When he thought, for even a moment, that vengeance mattered more than your life?

Still, he returns to your side. Because you told him to, all that time ago. Because he has so much to make up for after everything. And because you haven’t given him leave to be anywhere else.

(He prays that you don’t the only way he knows how. Through meals from his own hand while you grin, nipping at his fingers. Through tea shared from one cup. With fragrant products in your wet hair while you sigh. You haven’t told him he could be anywhere else, beckoning him into a bed bigger than the one on base, still tucking in close like one of you might fall off the edge.)

It’s not that he thinks you incapable now. He would never blaspheme that you are anything other than utterly competent. It’s just that every blink superimposes pools of blood over his vision, a strobe of you near death.

In his most selfish, private thoughts, he imagines taking you away from it all for good. Tucking you away warm and safe in the cathedral of your off-base apartment, where a god belongs, in their own house. He soothes himself on visions of devoting himself to you fully and wishes he were a prophet. But for all you’ve given him, visions of the future are not one of them.

You were eager to return to duty, nearly cornered O’Conor once you got final clearance from the doctors. Nearly shook him down for a new assignment – for the both of you. Even if he had reservations about sending you to duty so soon, an opportunity to keep Nikto and his temper away a little longer was too tempting. (The bruises Nikto left on his throat were long gone, but the memory clearly was not.)

And so here you both are, in the gym of an SAS base, sparring with Task Force 141.

“Oi, lass! Care for a match?”

“Bring it, MacTavish!”

Nikto stands back to observe as you and the sergeant square off.

The 141 has been cooperative, despite previous tensions with KorTac. You, Nikto, and Konig have managed to build a decent working rapport – though most of that work has been yours. Their captain seems to like your friendly personality and straightforward professionalism; their lieutenant has been cordial. But the two sergeants (especially the Scottish one) have taken a liking to you.

“Fuck!”

Nikto jerks as you get taken down on your bad side – no, it’s not your bad side anymore. You’ve fully recovered; he must remember that. Interrupting a sparring match would be unwelcome and unnecessary. Not just overprotective on his part, but disrespectful to you as well, as if he doesn’t think you can hold your own. Still, he balls his hands into fists as you struggle against the sergeant.

At least you’re laughing, breathless and curse laden as it is.

“She is okay, ja?” Konig asks.

Nikto grunts the affirmative, eyes sharp as he watches you knee MacTavish’s side. Good, he thinks proudly as you twist to get on top. You’ve been working tirelessly to improve your groundwork techniques, learning all the different ways you can use your smaller stature against bigger and stronger opponents.

“He is… friendly,” Konig continues.

Another grunt of agreement. Most people are with you. It’s a natural reaction in the face of divinity; to reach out to a smiling god. It worked on Nikto, anyone else would be helpless. It’s just the natural order of things like green grass, blue skies, or gravity.

There’s a pause that starts to prickle the back of Nikto’s mind. Disinterested as he may be in socializing, he understands how it works. A program that runs in his mind – body language, tone, inflection, facial expression. A complex algorithm that computes to emotion, conversation, feeling. It’s just not an equation that applies to him, or that he can apply to himself anymore.

And right now, Konig is trying to imply something. Nikto cuts his eyes to the side, meets Konig’s.

“Too friendly, don’t you think?” he adds.

Nikto snorts and turns back to the match – where you are just tapping out. MacTavish is unwinding his arm from your windpipe. You’re sat between his legs, back to his chest. A tough position to get out from in a fight. As you’re scooting away, the sergeant pats your hip, leans to say, “good match” in your ear. You shoot him a grin over your shoulder and then push to your feet, sauntering back to your own team.

“Whose turn is it?” you ask, wiping sweat from your brow.

You don’t see MacTavish’s eyes darting up and down your body, zeroing in on the sliver of skin revealed by your lifted shirt. But Nikto does.

“Mine,” Konig answers, stepping forward.

You smile at him, bump fists with him. “Kick his ass for me, yeah?”

“Ja.”

He shoots Nikto one last, pointed look before stepping onto the mat. But Nikto has no interest in watching his match. Not when you’re right in front of him, a sheepish look on your face.

“I can’t believe I lost like that,” you groan. “Guess I need more practice.”

“We will practice,” he promises.

You beam and knock the back of your hand gently against his.

Like an insidious weed, Konig’s observation takes root and sprouts. Sergeant MacTavish’s friendliness.

It’s almost like Nikto is hallucinating again – or perhaps that he has just stopped. A veil pulled away from his eyes. A creature camouflaged in the brush, his eyes skipping over the landscape until an irregularity in the pattern was pointed out to him. And now he cannot stop seeing it.

MacTavish saying hello to you first every morning, asking how you slept with a twinkle in his eye. He offers to accompany you to training sessions, often chooses you first for cross-team drills. In downtime, he’ll invite you to socialize (with the rest of the 141, sure) and always save you a seat or a spot. Usually right next to him.

And it is not that he doesn’t acknowledge Nikto or Konig. He is amicable with both, works well with either of them when paired up. But there is always a tilt to his mouth when he speaks to you, a lilt to his voice. A subtle incline to his shoulders that makes every interaction seem just that slightest bit intimate.

A week into the assignment, and he is touching you freely. First a hand tapping elbow or shoulder. Then an arm around the back of your neck. Platonic, commiserating. Within a day, that arm drops to your shoulders and he’s leaning the side of his head against yours, something a bit warmer than a hug.

One morning, he scoops you up in a hug, your toes nearly off the ground. You seem surprised, reciprocate with a pat to the back before you’re set down and offered a chair.

And the sparring… the sparring gets worse. Not just an exchange of blows and a chance to improve skills with a new partner anymore. It’s become a game of teasing you, joking with you. Tagging you with hits to coax you into going after him. Wrestling with you on the ground and dragging it out while he grunts and huffs against you.

And Nikto… Nikto burns.

This is not hell, he knows; but maybe this is some form of purgatory.

He has no place, no right to suffer. Knows that trying to claim you as his own would be like trying to cage the sun. It wouldn’t just be selfish; it would be heresy. You’ve already given him a miracle; you told him you love him. That is far beyond anything he could deserve, anything he could hope or dream or long for. To take after all that, to demand more of the time, attention, energy you pour into him like holy water…

And yet.

And yet he wants to claw his skin off when MacTavish winks at you. Wants to set the world on fire when that accent purrs “bonnie” or “hen” at you. An awful, deafening static scream fills the fractures of his mind when you smile at the sergeant, when you wish him a good morning or evening.

“How are you with a sniper, hen?” MacTavish asks one day.

You hum, glance over at Nikto. He’s been training you with his own rifle for months now – though it’s obviously been on pause since your injury. “Well, I’ve been working on it, but I definitely need some improvement.”

MacTavish crosses his arms, biceps bulging against the sleeves of his t-shirt. “I wouldn’t mind giving you a few pointers, if you want to come down to the range with me some time. Promise I’m a good teacher.”

You blink, hesitate. Then lightly, “Yeah, maybe!”

Nikto can’t hang himself on an “almost,” but he’s gutted on a “maybe.”

That night you come out of the bathroom frowning. There’s a furrow between your brows that you only get when you’re both frustrated and worried; if it stays, you’ll have a headache within the hour.

“Nikto?”

He glances up from the knives he’s polishing. You stop, eyes darting all over him, towel frozen in your hand.

“Hm?” he prompts.

You don’t answer. Instead, drop the towel carelessly on the floor and stride across the room. Towards him. He only just manages to shove his equipment out of the way by the time you reach him. And you don’t stop, climbing onto the hard desk chair he’s in, straddling his lap. Your fingers curl so tight in his chest straps that he can hear them creak.

He’s trapped as much by your gaze as your weight. Something swimming in the pools of your irises that he hasn’t seen in them before. Doesn’t know how to name or how to tame.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

He jerks back in surprise, but you’ve got a solid grip and there’s nowhere to go.

“Did I… do something?” you ask. “Or… or not do something?”

He stares. “What?” he asks, mouth gone suddenly dry.

Your eyes are still darting between his, like you’ll find answers playing peekaboo between them.

“You haven’t been right the past few days. Maybe even a week,” you explain. “I’ve been giving you space to tell me, but you won’t. And I’m sorry, I’m not trying to pressure you, but please just talk to me.”

Now his brows furrow. “I haven’t been…?”

You sit back a bit, assured that you have his attention – as if that isn’t guaranteed.

“You’re not eating the same. Didn’t even take the green beans I put aside for you,” you say. “You’re not sharing my tea or letting me wrap your hands. You keep leaving for a smoke in the middle of the night. Hell, you’re wearing your mask in our room.”

It dawns on him like apocalypse. That he has been worrying you, affecting you.

“And you’re not… you’re not talking to me.” Your white-knuckled grip eases a bit as you run out of steam, sadness tinging your expression. “I know we don’t talk the normal way but… I haven’t been able to read you. You won’t look me in the eye or press our legs together. You’re even pulling away in your sleep.”

His heart is trying to claw out of his ribcage, wants to crawl into the palm you press to his chest.

“So… if I’m doing something or not doing something… you can tell me. I promise I won’t be upset. I just miss you.”

He crumbles.

Weeks under torture, but he breaks at four words.

You gasp as he rips the gear off his face. Try to help, but he just pushes your hands away. Knows he’s aggravated the old wounds, but a balm is at hand, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

“моя любовь,” he whispers fervently. “моя надежда. моя богиня.”

You curl around him instantly, arms around his shoulders, fingers fluffing through the fuzz of hair at the back of his skull. Gentle and kind and everything that sinners and saints would fall on their swords for. And yet all you ask of him is to speak, to confess.

“I fear,” he rasps into your skin.

“Fear what?” you ask.

He is your protector, your disciple. Yours to command, to damn, to sacrifice if you so wished – and he would gladly spill his corroded innards at your feet, careful not to bloody your shoes. And he fears that you won’t ask him to.

“You are not mine, but I fear losing you,” he admits. You suck in a breath, arms tightening around him. “If not to MacTavish, then to the world. I will be left here without you again.”

He squeezes his eyes shut as the scars sear all over again, crushes his crooked nose against your collarbone.

“I am yours,” he whispers, lungs burning, “and I cannot be that if you are gone.”

You shift, pressing closer, tighter. Lay your cheek on his head and squeeze him so tightly he wonders if you’re not inviting him inside your ribcage.

“I thought you understood,” you whisper, and even that cracks with emotion. “I’m sorry, I thought I made it clear. I thought you knew…”

You urge him back. He wants to resist. Wants to stay right there in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the soap you two share, basking in your warmth. But you are bidding him to do something, and he is a weak man to your command.

Your eyes are shiny, but there’s a smile on your face when you look at him.

“You’re mine,” you assure him, “you will always be mine. I will never turn you away.”

His eyes flutter with relief. Always. He has no business questioning the truth of that. You’ve said it; it is so.

“I’m yours too, Nikto.”

His eyes snap open again, but you hold him still, hold him right there.

“Our love isn’t a cross for you to bear,” you murmur. “I belong to you the same way – the exact same way – that you are mine.”

“I don’t—”

“You remember what I told you in that car all those months ago?”

Don’t deserve it? That’s not your choice. Don’t understand? You don’t have to. I just do. It wasn’t a choice I made.

Your word is genesis. It is revelation. It is creed and commandment, redemption and atonement.

You’ve said it; it is so.

“Here.”

You snatch a pad of black ink from one of the desk drawers, grab at one of his useless, hovering hands.

“What are you—”

You smear his bare fingertips across the damp pad. Then press them to your forearm. He jerks his hand back, but it’s too late. His smudged fingerprints stain your skin in inky little pools. When he looks up at you, you’re grinning. Wide and beautiful and so damn proud of yourself.

“C’mon,” you coo. “Do it again.”

He hesitates. But his eyes are drawn back to his fingerprints on your skin. His mind echoes with your declaration.

You are his. You are his.

To deny you this, to deny your belonging, would be beyond blasphemy. Beyond sin.

You have said it; it is so. You. Are. His.

You beam as he takes the inkpad and gets his fingers wet again. Begins leaving marks all over you. Along your arms, over your collarbone. Lean back to get palm prints on your thighs. Sits you on the desk to smear lines up your calves. You even tug your shirt up, giggling all the while, so that he can mark up your stomach.

He pauses at the gunshot. Places his blackened thumb over the entry scar. Pulls it away to see the whorls of his fingerprint covering it.

You soften, kind hands cupping his jaw and guiding him up. Up and up… until your plush lips are slotted against his. His own stained hands land on your hips – likely ruining your little sleep shorts – and pull you as close as he can get you. Infusing himself with the taste of you, of your love, of your belonging.

“Yours,” you murmur against his mangled mouth.

“Yours,” he repeats.

The next day, you walk into the mess hall with Nikto’s fingers hooked into your belt loops. There’s a single black smudge on your jaw.

First | Previous | TBC...

Masterlist

[kinzis-writing]

Better than Revenge | M.R [4]

It had been almost two years since Y/N and Mattheo had been best friends. Y/N had decided that it was time to face her past and deal with whatever consequences would follow.

This chapter will probably contain a lot of Soft! Mattheo, which is ooc but i hope you enjoy.

Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Y/N Nettleby, Ex! Theodore Nott x Y/N Nettlby.

Warning(s): order of the phoenix spoilers (a bit), mentions of sexual activities, degrading/slight abuse by parents,

iv. “this is why we can’t have nice things, darling”

Chapter Four

*Gif not mine* *not edited or proofread*

It had been approximately four days since the Slytherin party and Y/N had tried her best to avoid Mattheo and his friends. It was easier to avoid the Slytherin friend group compared to Mattheo, as it seemed that he looked for her in every class, between every class, and at every meal. She had shaken him off every time and ignored him as much as possible, but that did little to stop him.

"Y/N!" The voice of Hermione had torn through the silence of the library. The Granger girl hurriedly making her way over to her housemate. "Lorenzo told me to come find you, Riddle is fighting Nott." she spoke fast.

Y/N shot up from her chair quickly, leaving her items and headed to where Hermione was taking her. It wasn't long before the two Gryffindor girls were stopping where their friend group was trying to break them up and other houses just watching. "Hey!" Y/N yelled as she walked towards the fight.

"Y/N." Sean warned as his sister shrugged him off and went towards the fight again since he had stopped her.

"Mattheo Riddle!" Y/N yelled breaking the boys apart as she carefully pushed them away from each other, her hand staying on the one she had called. "Stop it, both of you!" she yelled again. The Slytherin friend group cleared the hallways since the fight was under control and they didn't have to worry about their friends killing each other. "What in merlin's name happened?" she asked, looking at each one of the boys.

Mattheo stood their breathing heavy and glaring at Theo, who didn't dare look at anyone. Veronica wore a proud smile on her face, unknowingly being caught by the rest of the group. "Theo was insulting you." Enzo stated simply, not wanting to go into detail in such a public place.

"If she would put out-" Veronica started before Theodore shook his head indicating her to stop when he noticed Mattheo go to step forward, but Y/N held him back. The Nettleby girl was afraid that he would not be afraid of punching a girl right now.

"Let's go." She muttered pulling Mattheo along with her and not giving any of the Slytherin's her attention. She quietly led the boy to her dormitory and straight to the shared bathroom.

She didn't say anything as she sat him down on the toilet and started using some healing spells that she knew to heal him the best she could. Some of his wounds and marks were still there, but truth be told Theo looked worse.

"This was a bad idea." Y/N stated as she avoided Mattheo's gaze and walked out of the bathroom, him following her, once she had finished the healing spells. "This plan was rubbish, especially when it makes you and Theo fight. Merlin, you two were best friends before me." she muttered.

"He won't disrespect you s'long as i'm around." Mattheo mumbled as he took a seat on the girl's bed not knowing what to expect from her next.

Y/N shook her head as she stopped pacing and turned to face the boy that she had known very well since first year. "What was the fight even about?" she asked, knowing that it had to do with the issue between her and Theo.

"that bitch seems to have an influence on Theodore." Mattheo spoke as he eyed the girl in front of him. "Veronica started first, saying how our relationship must be draining because lack of activities, your ex then going on to say that there's better lays."

Y/N nodding, even though she didn't quite understand why her not having sex with him would be this big of an issue. Maybe it was an insecurity problem, or maybe it was the only thing he truly wanted from their relationship. Whatever the case, she knew that they were not worth her breath. Yet something had to give, because she was not finishing the next two years at school and dealing with the two wizards fighting.

"Come on," Y/N spoke as she grabbed Mattheo's hand and led him out of her dorm and made her way towards the Slytherin common room. She was going to settle this once and for all, whether it made people mad or not. "Pureblood." she spoke the the door and entered the common room as the door opened, Mattheo trailing behind her.

Just as she had suspected, the friend group had skipped class after the fight had broken out. The couple joined the group, as they caught everyone's attention. Veronica looked pissed and unhappy that they had decided to show up, when they were probably getting scolded by the friend group.

"I'll leave after I say this because I am done with how immature you two are acting," She started as she pointed to her ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend. "also the fact that the fights between you two," pointing at Mattheo and Theodore. "are absurd." she finished causing everyone to agree with those statements that had been made.

The girl turned to Theo before giving him a look, "You honestly want the truth? Because I have a feeling you won't want it once I started confessing." She asked the man that she used to have feelings for. When no one said anything, she looked at Mattheo to see if he had any feelings about people finding out about them. "It's true that I didn't sleep with you" She admitted to the group but kept her gaze locked on Theo's so he would know she was telling the truth. "I was going to the night you broke up with me," She admitted making Mattheo rolled his eyes and her brother look away not wanting to hear that.

"I didn't have sex with Theodore, but I wasn't a prude." Y/N looked straight in the eyes of Veronica as she spoke those words knowing that it showed who she truly was. "I lost my virginity to Mattheo the day before my birthday, 5 months before Theodore and I started dating." She told the group honestly. Sean looked sick because he didn’t want to hear that about his best friend and sister, Theo was angry and Veronica was surprised. The others not saying anything and just absorbing the information. “Besides there was other things done besides…” she trailed off before shaking her head and deciding against saying it.

Theo’s angry eyes burned right into Mattheo’s as he stood up and rushed towards the boy. Enzo pulling Y/N out of the way knowing what was coming. The Nott boys wand pressing against the neck of Mattheo. Of course, everyone thought that he wouldn’t do anything but it’s the fact that he would go that far.

“I should hex you.” Theo spoke dangerously low to his housemate and best friend.

“Now, why would you do that Nott?” Mattheo spoke calmly. Knowing nothing was going to happen and if it did that he could control the situation.

Y/N spoke up, knowing that it may make things worse but she hoped it made it better. “There’s no reason for that Theodore.” She spoke calmly, but her nerves were going wild for Mattheo. She knew he could handle his own, knowing where he came from. Still didn’t make her worry any less.

“This is rubbish, Theo.” Veronica started as she stood up and went over to rub his arm. “She isn’t worth it.”

Theodore shook her off and continued his hard glare at his best friend. “you took that from me.” He muttered causing the Riddle boy to furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “I was suppose to get that experience.”

Mattheo’s gaze darkened at what his housemate was meaning, “I didn’t take anything away from you. What experience were you wanting exactly? What claim did you think that you’d have on her?” He asked dangerously low, the patience in his voice wearing thin.

Y/N had enough of all this, she had left the common room without being noticed by Mattheo or Theodore. Who did Theo think he was, being entitled to her and what she had to give. It didn’t make any sense to the girl as to why he was acting like that. Pushing that behind her, she went back to the Gryffindor common room to hopefully have some normal time with her friends.

"Hey guys." Y/N greeted sitting her bag down beside of her and sitting down beside Hermione. Her friends greeted her back before they gave each other knowing looks. They weren't sure if their friend was aware of everything that was going on. "Are you all okay? You're acting strange..."

Hermione glanced around the group before turning her attention to the Nettleby girl, "Have you heard anything about Riddle? or has he told you anything?" she asked cautiously to not make the girl uncomfortable.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head, "No, why?"

"You know about everyone shunning Harry because of... his father and how his mother has escaped from Azkaban, and they haven't found her." Ginny explained to the girl trying to get her to understand their concern and everything about the situation.

Ron looked at Harry before turning his attention to the girls, "Harry said that they think his followers are planning something."

realization dawned on Y/N as her friends continued talking about the situation at hand. It was true about Bellatrix had escaped from Azkaban and she had completely forgotten to ask Mattheo how he felt about it, seeing as it made headlines. Y/N knew that his father was also back, or at least trying to make a comeback. Not only because she trusted her friends but because she could feel it. Coming from a family of death eaters allowed for this stuff to make sense.

"My parents are hosting a dinner that my brother and I have to attend." Y/N spoke making the golden trio and Ginny turn towards her. "I bet it has something to do with him." she added as she looked around her friend group.

"Please tell me you're not going." Harry begged in his own way to his friend. They all knew that Y/N's family was pureblood Slytherin's and death eaters, the Weasley's were even a bit unsure when Ron invited her over for the holidays when he found out that she refused to go home. Now it was clear that she was nothing like her family and wanted a different life, fighting for the good side of things.

Y/N shrugged, "I have to, or they will literally track me down." she mumbled as she noticed the tension in the room.

🪄

It was the time that she had dreaded for the past two weeks. The dinner that her mother had excitedly written to both of her kids about. To make matters worse for the Gryffindor girl, she knew it would be a death eaters meeting, seeing as almost everyone in Sean and Mattheo's group would be there.

"They're going to murder me." Y/N whispered to Sean as the youngest twin sat on her brother's bed as he laid out his suit. "I am a bloody Gryffindor, and everyone that's going to be here is Slytherin death eaters." The twins were still not close, but they were closer than previously due to her connection with Mattheo and after how Theo had treated her.

"I'll go down with you if they try anything." Sean promised as he noticed how distraught his sister looked. "Mattheo won't let anything happen to you either."

Y/N scoffed slightly at what her older brother had said, It was true that Mattheo was far from his parents when no one was around. But how would he act when multiple of his family's allies was in the same room? He had always acted a big stuck up or cold towards the girl whenever the Netteby's hosted Christmas parties and everything. "Our parents like you more, they'll make sure you live. They'll place the unforgivable spell on me."

"You'll survive." Sean promised before shoving his sister out of his room so he could get ready.

Y/N rolled her eyes before going to her room and getting ready. To blend in with everyone that was going to be at Nettleby manor, she had decided on another green dress. Something that would make her look mature but attractive at the same time. She quickly straightened up her hair and makeup before taking a couple deep breaths and heading downstairs to meet whatever fate was waiting for her.

"Y/N, you're late." Mrs. Nettleby scolded her eyes glaring at the girl in front of her. "You don't need to be a bigger disappointment than you already are." she muttered. A few of the other death eaters laughed at the mother's comment.

Y/N held her head high and stood up straighter, "Sorry mother." she muttered before stepping around her mother and going into the kitchen in her house.

"You don't walk away until I say I am done with you!" Mrs. Nettlby spoke harshly as her heels click-clack every time she stormed towards her daughter. "You should be grateful for the life that you have with us, we would have kicked you out if we didn't have a plan for you." she spoke in her normal harsh tone.

Y/N's eyes narrowed slightly as she starred at her mother, "Plan for me?" she asked wanting to know what the group of death eaters planned to do with her.

Mrs. Nettleby gave her daughter a wicked smile before she grabbed her daughter by the shoulder and pushed her out to where the group was waiting for her. "Our daughter wants to know what her main purpose is, I think it's time we elaborate."

Sean's expression changed as he noticed the harsh grip that his mother had on his sister. He knew that his family treated her different since she was sorted into Gryffindor, but he did not understand why. He went to speak up before Lucius Malfoy stepped in front of the group of Slytherin boys. "I think it's time for you to let the adults talk." He spoke monotoned to the group of boys.

"What are you going to do to my sister?" Sean asked the father of his friend. His glare was hard as he tried to figure out what the death eaters wanted with his sister.

Lucius gave him a dark look, "that is between us and her, Mr. Nettleby." He spoke before ushering the boys out of the room.

After the boys had left everyone gathered around the table, the grip Mrs. Nettleby had on her daughter tightened as discussion started around the group of his army. "Here is what you must do."

“They wouldn’t hurt her, would they?” Sean asked nervously as he waited for the adults to break the spell on the door.

Draco scoffed, “they would.” He spoke monotonously.

Theodore had been ignored by Mattheo and Sean, but he was even look nervous now. He may have a grudge held against his best friend, but he would admit that Y/N didn’t deserve to be tortured by the groupies in the den.

Before anyone could speak up the doors opened and Mr. Nettleby threw his daughter out before closing the doors again. The girl’s shoulders were already turned slightly purple from the grip and fingernails of her mother. Her once neat hair was how messy and her makeup was smudged. A red mark shaped like a handprint laid across her right cheek.

Y/N didn’t dare say anything, all she did was take her heels off and raced to her room. Sean went to follow her but was held back by Draco who knew that Mattheo would want to follow the girl. After all, it was the boy’s father’s followers that did whatever damage to the girl.

Y/N rushed to her room and quickly got her duffle, whatever she had left at home was going back with her to Hogwarts. There was no one she could risk coming home again.

“Y/N,” Mattheo’s voice spoke softly from the doorway of the girl’s bedroom. “What’s going on?”

“I’m leaving.” She whispered hoping that they couldn’t curse him to get it out of him. She knew her parents would find her at hogwarts, which made her worried. “I can’t stay here, not with what they’re expecting me to do.”

Mattheo cautiously stepped into the bedroom that he was slightly familiar with. He didn’t want to startle the girl seeing as she was in a vulnerable state. “What did they do?” He asked carefully, he noticed the way her eyes squeezed shut and a tear fell down. “Let me help you.”

Y/N turned to him fully, so he got the full view of her. Her cheek now a slightly different color due to the impact of whoever slapped her across the face. “You can’t help me, Teo.” She whispered on the verge of breaking.

“Let me try,” he pleaded, hating seeing the girl the way that she was currently. “I’ll try to fix it.”

“I have to get out of here,” she told him. “I have to go into hiding or something.” She mumbled as her eyes finally fully met his.

Mattheo stepped forward again and carefully reached out and grabbed her hand in a comforting way. “Tell me what they want you to do.”

“They want me to spy on Harry,” she whispered. His hand gave hers a big squeeze. Knowing that she was best friends with him, sure he hated Harry. Most of it being because of his father and everything that happened. “They want me to spy on the the Weasley’s as well.” She added her heart breaking as she spoke.

“Maybe we can figure something out,” Mattheo tried to reason but they both knew better. Death Eaters showed no remorse for anyone, not even their own kids. At least, the Nettleby’s didn’t. “We can find a way for you to make them happy but keep your friends safe.”

Y/N shook her head as more tears fell down, “that’s not the worse part.” She muttered as his hand went to rest on her cheek.

“I’m sure we can get through it.” Mattheo reassured, his thumb wiping away the tears as they fell.

“They’re going to force me to become like them.” She told the guy that she cared deeply for in front of her. Mattheo paled, knowing exactly what she meant. It was exactly what his father and mother had been planning for him since the plan to get his father back. “They’re forcing me to join your fathers army.”

That sentence was enough for Mattheo to fear for the girl in front of him. It was enough to feel his own heart break. Because someone so sweet, caring, and willing to help others did not deserve to have that life that he was destined to live.

Little note: hi! It’s been longer than I hoped and I’m sorry many things got in the way but here’s an update. I hope you enjoyed and we’re getting to the juicy stuff. I did change the plot a bit since this went from a George Weasley x reader (rough draft) and I did a full switch to Mattheo Riddle x reader. I think I’m going to start adding a word count at the beginning of my chapters just so I can keep track of how many words I usually write per chapter. Next update should be out soon! I’ve started writing requests but I’ll catch up with blogmas first! 🥰

Tag list: @yoichiislovie @justhavingsomefun1 @lafrone @julesandro @prongprincessworld @bruher @mattiesgirl @itsamusical4lifee @frogtape @blueeweeb @harrysnovia @kiwi475 @wildlyobserving @devotedlycrookeddonut @oi-itse @dear-fifi @grandtheoristpeach @dory-98 @lovesanimals0000 @supernatural-lover @joekbff @ivy-34 @jasmine2105 @cmervns @jetblackpayne @b4b3tte @xmadigurlx @thecraziestcrayon @whoknowsbut

I think I added everyone! If i missed someone or I tagged the wrong account and you wanna be untagged just let me know. 🫶

[joelsgoldrush]

come back same time and place the next night

prologue / 3k words

pairing: dad's coworker!joel miller x f!reader

raiting: 18+ (minors dni)

series summary: your chances of hooking up with your dad’s soon-to-be coworker are low, but never zero. turns out the two of you have a lot more in common than you thought, especially when you find out he’s going to be staying at your house for a while. you know what they say: if you can’t beat them, fuck them.

series warnings: no outbreak AU, dad's coworker!joel (idk if that's a thing but yeah), lots of feelings (angst/fluff), age gap (reader is 23, joel is 50), no use of y/n, i'm not good at choosing names for side characters sorry for that, some chapters will include smut 18+ and i'll let you know at the beggining of each part

warnings for this chapter: soft!dom joel, oral (m receiving), dirty talk

A/N: HELLO AGAIN i'm back with a new series!!! first of all, i just wanted to say THANK YOU bc of all the love you gave my previous post. i'm so thankful for all the likes, reblogs and comments, you truly made me feel incredibly happy. tbh i used to have a hard time figuring out whether i should start posting my own creations or not, and the support you showed me made me realize that it was definitely the right call. so yeah tysm for that and i hope you also enjoy this new project of mine :) i juIt have one final left and then i'll have a couple of weeks to relax and work on this series! also english isn’t my first language so if you come across any mistake please tell me!

here's my masterlist in case you want to read my other works :)

“Sneaking out of my house / I must be out of my mind / I’m running out of excuses / We’re running out of time / You say the love will come and go / We’ll learn how to ride the ebb and flow / You’ll always leave before the light / Come back same time and place the next night.”

You take another sip of your drink, alcohol making its way through your throat. It leaves a trail of burning kisses down the inside of your esophagus, and you make an effort not to swear as the sensation settles heavily on your chest.

Stacy looks around the bar for a while, her knee impacting rhythmically against yours ever so slightly. Next thing you know, she’s snorting, her blonde hair falling like cascades over her collarbones. “I'm afraid you, my dearest friend, have lost your good judgement. There isn’t a single hot guy in this bar.”

“That’s not true,” your fingers pinch the pink straw floating on your glass, a lipstick stain adorning it. You’re not exactly sure, though. The truth is you aren’t looking for somebody tonight, at least not right now. “Give me a second.”

Scanning your surroundings, you try to concentrate on your quest: finding a new hobby for Stacy. And by hobby, you mean a man she can simp over for the rest of the night. Once you’ve examined the room multiple times without success, you feel… slightly disappointed. 

Just when you’re about to agree with her, this pretty waiter comes on the scene, placing a martini under your friend’s nose. “Here it is. Hope you enjoy it.” 

Oh.

Stacy giggles at him. It’s that specific kind of giggle you know very well. “Thank you, but I didn’t order this.”

“Don’t worry. This one’s on me,” the hot-waiter answers, giving her a smile that’s all white teeth before disappearing between the mess of sweaty bodies on the dancing floor. 

You look at her, because you already know what she will do next. She wiggles her eyebrows in your direction and takes hold of her purse, not without previously drinking almost half of the cocktail she got for free. 

Her forehead furrows in a funny way. “It’s not very good. He’s lucky he’s cute.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you tell her, ignoring her words. “I’m being serious.”

She leaves and you’re left alone, though you don’t mind the lack of company. The beating of your heart seems to sync with the pounding music from the pub. There’s this one girl doing karaoke, but nobody seems to be actually listening to her. You wonder if she’s aware of it, although she appears not to, because her tone gets even more high-pitched every time she gets to the chorus of the song.

After some minutes, you decide to give Stacy’s drink a try. She wasn’t wrong: the taste of it is absolutely awful. Some muscle in your jaw twitches as you cough a little.

“Is it that bad?” 

You turn to your side, looking for the owner of that unknown voice that startled you. A man stands beside you, pointing out the martini. Leaning in closer to him, you hand him the drink. “Why don’t you try it yourself?”

His cold fingers brush yours gently when he takes the glass into his hands. The straw vanishes between his lips momentarily, and then he proceeds to chuckle. “You’re right. It’s… definitely somethin’ else.”

This must be your lucky night. When was the last time a guy this good-looking approached you? He jerks his thumb toward the empty chair in front of you. “Are you waitin’ for someone?”

You can't help but smile. “Not anymore.” 

The attractive, charming stranger sits down, and you seize the opportunity to take a closer look at his face. You’re not sure of his age, but he’s older than you. He seems to be in his early 40s, the hair on his beard starting to get a bit gray. It’s subtle. If you weren’t such a perfectionist, perhaps you wouldn’t have seen it. But you did, and if possible, it just makes him come across as even more appealing to you.

“If you don’t mind me askin’, why did you order that drink?”

“Well, I didn’t. It was a gift for my friend,” you rest your chin on your palm, giving a half shrug. “She’s with the guy that gave it to her. The blonde girl over there, with the white tank top? That’s her.”

His eyes follow your gaze, finding Stacy just a couple of meters away from where the two of you were talking. She raises one of her hands in greeting, the boy from before attached to her hip like a lost puppy in the middle of the road.

“She seems nice,” he murmurs once he focuses his attention on you again. 

“Yeah, she is,” as you finish that sentence, you feel your phone vibrating in the pocket of your jacket. “Excuse me.”

It’s a text from Stacy. Said message reads: 

whose dad is that??? he’s hot af

You laugh at her occurrence, and he tugs at his shirt collar. “What happened?”

“She texted me: whose dad is that?” staring at him, you lift an eyebrow. “Do you have any children I should know of?”

The stranger seems to hesitate before replying. “No, I don’t,” you watch him lick his lips. “Why? You’re not into dads?”

He's cocky. Good thing you like cocky.

Time flies. You learn some things about him: he’s from Texas (the southern accent gives him away) and works as a contractor (just like your dad, you think, which is funny.) When he reveals how old he is, he seems to look for any sign of discomfort on your features. “I’m forty-five.”

“Twenty-three,” you retort with your own age. He glances up to the ceiling, and you give a bitter laugh. “Is it a problem for you?’”

“Shouldn’t I be the one askin’ that to you?”

You flutter your eyelashes at him. “I don’t mind.” If anything, you like him more. However, there’s one mystery left to bring to light. “What I do mind is that we’ve been here for almost an hour and you still haven’t told me your name.”

He leans back in his chair. “Let's play a game.”

“Be careful. I’m really competitive.”

“You have three chances to guess my name. I’ll just give you my initial. You gotta do the rest, deal?”

What were the odds of guessing it? I should take the risk, you think as you find yourself already nodding your head. “Deal.”

“It starts with the letter J.”

“Jack,” it’s the first name that comes to your mind. For an instant, you believe you’ve won, but then you catch him smirking. “It’s not Jack, isn´t it?"

The corner of his mouth turns up. “Keep tryin’.”

“Josh?”

“Ice cold.”

“Joe?”

Something you're unable to even distinguish glows in his eyes. “I’m givin’ you one more chance.”

“So I’m close?” you ask him, probably too enthusiastic. He doesn’t say anything else, so you go on. “Is it Joel?”

He places a hand on top of his shirt where his heart is, pretending to act relieved. “Fuckin’ finally.”

You punch your fists into the air. “Yes! I knew I was gonna get it.” A sincere smile takes place on your face. “What’s my prize?”

“Well,” he inches forward, his pinky nudging your wrist, that mere touch giving you goosebumps. “You could give me your number and go on a proper date with me.”

God knows you want it. Rising from your seat, you tuck a lock of brown hair behind his ear. “I was thinking of something else.”

That’s how you end up in the ladies restroom, your back flushed against the wooden door as Joel presses his clothed knee between your legs. You moan into his mouth without thinking if there are any other people outside waiting to use the bathroom. Joel draws in a long breath, grinning as he takes in the sight of you. “You wanna put on a show for the others? I'm not one to judge."

“I want to suck you off,” your hand is dangerously close to his crotch, your nails ghosting over his zipper. He seems to be having an internal fight with the last brain cell he has left, but then he detaches himself from you, unzipping his jeans. The sound of his belt hitting the floor with a thud is what finally leads you to fall to your knees.

He’s big. You can tell his size from your position, a wet patch forming into the fabric of his boxers. Playing with the waistband of his boxers for a mere second, your self-control attempts to falter. You grab him by the base, stroking it experimentally. Joel fights back a groan, urging you to take him. “Come on, sweetheart. I don’t like t’beg.”

But you do, that’s the thing. “Please,” you whisper, hoping he’ll hear you. His eyes find yours and suddenly it clicks. A lightbulb goes on in his head. He curses under his breath, directing his dick towards your open parted lips, and your eyelids get heavy as the taste of his precum invades your tastebuds.

It’s not your fault he has an amazing dick.

You begin to bob your head, taking more and more of his length with every one of your short movements. Slick must be already staining your own panties, but you can’t get yourself to care about that insignificant detail. Not now, when Joel’s hips thrust deeper into your mouth, his tip brushing the back of your throat and making you gag. It's dirty, and you should probably be ashamed of getting caught by a bystander. All your worries are swept away from your mind the moment he decides not to keep quiet. “Fuck, baby. Knew you would put that gorgeous mouth to good use. Attagirl, takin’ me so well.”

A stupid whine gets lost somewhere in your vocal tract. Intertwining your fingers with his, you locate his wandering hands on your hair, wishing he'll take the hint. He does, and grabs a handful of it, pulling you off his cock. 

“You really like this, don’t ya’?” Joel smears your lower lip with your spit. “Were you thinkin’ about this while we were talkin’ back there?”

“Y-yes,” you try to take him in your mouth again, but he doesn’t allow you to, his iron grip on your nape getting tighter the more you fight against it.

Then he lets you have it. “Bet you get off on this too,” his voice drops an octave, and it sounds so nasty and intimate you’re on the verge of crying. With teary eyes, you swallow around his length. 

You lose track of time. His bare thighs tremble and the only noise you can hear is his heavy breathing. “F—fuck. I’m close, where do you want it?” Mumbling something you can’t even comprehend with his cock still in your mouth, his thrusts begin to lose finesse, thick fingers holding you where he needs you the most. “So good, baby. Lettin’ me have you like this. Fuckin’—“

He’s about to come.

“—good girl.”

It all happens so fast you have to remind yourself to gulp down his cum, hot and sticky and just Joel’s. You patiently wait for him to come down from his high, nuzzling his happy trail. He helps you stand up, kissing you and tasting himself on your tongue. As soon as he tries to sneak a hand into your panties, getting closer to your aching cunt, you recognize your phone ringing in the distance.

Groaning, you stretch your arm, answering the call. “Hello?”

“Well, hi. This is awkward.”

You frown. Joel mimics you. “I’m sorry, who’s this?”

“I’m calling you from Stacy’s phone. We were making out and then she told me she was feeling sick, so I took her outside… and now she’s throwing up,” the boy on the other side of the line explains to you and you detect a hint of agitation in his voice. “She asked me to contact you.”

“Oh, God. Hot-waiter?”

“Yeah, she also said you were probably going to call me that,” he seems to move his phone away from his ear, and then talks to you again. “She’s not passed out, but she shouldn’t stay here.”

Does he actually think you’re going to leave her alone? “Can you tell me where you are?” you suggest him while Joel tucks himself back into his boxers.

“Next to the parking lot.”

You hang up after telling him you’ll be there in five minutes, and you feel Joel’s lips on your neck, a sigh spilling from you. His teeth nip at your sensitive skin. “You gotta go?”

Humming, you smooth down your skirt, facing the mirror and observing your reflection, some leftover mascara sticking your eyelashes together. He appears right behind you, his broad frame becoming more visible this way. “Stacy’s throwing up. I have to take her home.”

“Do you have a car?” 

“No, but I’ll call an uber. It’s no big deal.”

Joel puts his hands on his hips. “I brought my truck. Let me help you.”

Of course he has a truck. 

“Joel, you don’t have to,” you massage the back of your neck, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. 

“It’s the least I can do,” tilting his head, his lips catch yours once again. “Consider it my way of thankin’ you, since I cannot return the favor.”

It shouldn’t feel like this. You weren’t used to doing this kind of thing on a regular basis, but you’re more than sure that men don’t treat you this way after sucking them off. Still, you accept his offer since it means you’ll get to spend more time with him.

He walks you out and helps you get Stacy on her feet. As she sees Joel, she spreads her arms wide, hugging him. “Oh my God! It’s the hot dad!”

“Sweetie, you have like— puke all over your clothes,” you tell her, so Stacy chooses to hug you instead. “She gets pretty sensitive when she’s drunk.”

“I can tell,” Joel opens the back door of his truck, jerking his head in the direction of it. “Get her inside while I start the car.”

It all goes pretty well from then on. He asks you for Stacy’s address and you give it to him, the palm of his hand resting on top of your left thigh. Stacy gets comfortable in the back seat, yawning. “You two look like my parents before they got divorced.”

“That’s a really nice compliment,” you mutter with irony as Joel laughs by your side, rubbing his chin.

Soon after that, she falls asleep. Joel parks his car right in front of Stacy’s porsche. He glances over his shoulder, making sure she’s still sleeping before his seatbelt’s off and he’s grabbing you by the jaw, leaning in for a kiss. The fucker’s a very good kisser, you notice throughout the night.

“Are you gonna give me your number?” he murmurs against your mouth, his hot breath mixing with yours. 

“It depends. Will you call me?”

He tells you he will, and you prefer to trust him as you watch him save your number, a smiley face next to your name.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Joel doesn’t call you.

You don’t want to admit it, but it’s starting to get to you. He did sound honest. Why the hell did he treat you like that if he wasn’t planning on calling you? Why did he insist so much on getting your number?

Men suck. Joel sucks, you decide after a whole afternoon of staring at your phone, waiting to receive a text from him. Given the situation, anything would make you feel better.

Hey! It’s Joel, from the bar. I’m so sorry for not calling you. I forgot to tell you I’m married and have three children, two cute little puppies and a cat. Anyways, what a great night we had! Take care!

Okay. Perhaps not anything.

You’re home, sitting on the couch while you watch a meaningless TV programme. It consists of answering random questions, and if you get them wrong, you fall down some dark tunnel that only God knows where it takes you.

Normally, during a night like this, you’d be studying or perhaps at Stacy’s. But tonight, your father had asked you to actually stay. He didn’t tell you why he specifically needed you there, and you didn’t bother to ask him.

Out of the blue, you hear the doorbell ring. None of your parents seem to be on the first floor, so you walk to the door, opening it. 

You choke on your own saliva.

Joel’s here. Joel, who didn’t call you. Joel, who looks absolutely good with his hair slicked back. 

“Did I ever tell you where I lived?” the tone of your voice falters, your legs suddenly feeling wobbly.

He can’t believe it either. “No. I must have the wrong address,” keeping his eyes fixated on the box of chocolates dangling from his hand, he straightens his back. “What are you doin’ here?”

“I should be asking you that,” you hiss, your pupils flared with anger. “Why the fuck are you at my house, with a freaking box of chocolates, when you couldn’t bring yourself to call me?”

Then, you hear the sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen. It’s your dad. He contemplates the scene with a smile. “I see you’ve met my daughter. Trust me, my wife and I taught her better manners than this. Don’t know why she didn’t invite you in. Food’s almost ready!”

You’re about to short-circuit. Definitely not a joke.

“Sweetheart, this is Joel Miller. Remember I told you last week that someone from the company was coming over for a while? Well, this is him,” your father chuckles, expecting you to come up any kind of answer.

Joel’s faster than you, intending to shake your hand, those same calloused fingers that he had used to touch you in that dirty bathroom now playing dumb. “Nice to meet you.”

If he wants to pretend you don’t know each other, then so be it.

You squeeze his hand without measuring your strength. “Oh, the pleasure’s all mine, sir.”

Turns out that your chances of hooking up with your dad’s soon-to-be coworker were low, but never zero. 

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

tags: @spurz :)

[calicoheartz]

Embracing Truth ; Paige Bueckers ┈﹒

꣑୧ — summary | paige helps her gf come out of the closet 💐💌❤️

wc ; 870

— warnings | smalll hints of homophobia , anxiety related topics , mainly fluff + established relationship

my master list ㇀♡

1) i am sooo sorry for not responding to ur request anon! I accidentally deleted it from my drafts :(

a/n : this was so sweet and cute to write 🥰 this definitely healed something in me. Enjoy ◡̈

Paige sat on the edge of the bed, watching as her girlfriend, y/n, paced nervously back and forth between the blondes dorm. She could tell something was weighing heavily on your mind, and her instincts told her it was something serious. 

You and Paige had been dating since your second year of college, meeting during one of your shared classes. You knew you had always been into girls, often experimenting with them in highschool. But there was one problem, your parents didn't know.

They weren't necessarily homophobic per say, but to be fair the conversation of you being gay never was a topic of conversation. But the idea of one day having to tell them terrified you, especially since you knew the relationship with your girlfriend was becoming serious.

“Y/n, what's wrong?” Paige asks, snapping you out of your thoughts as she stood up and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder to stop your pacing.

You took a deep breath, looking up at your girlfriend with tears welled in your eyes managing to croak out , “I don't know Paige, I really need to tell my parents… I need to tell them about us. But I'm just afraid that they won't accept me, accept us. What if they kick me out? Disown me??”

Paige’s heart ached at the sudden fear that lingered in your voice,  as she pulled you into a warm, comforting hug, holding you tightly. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. I’ll be right by your side every step of the way. We’ll get through this together, I promise.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, knowing that Paige would be there for you, and be by your side. “Okay,” you whispered, “Okay, let’s do this.”

A few days had passed since you had the conversation with your girlfriend, part of you wanted to procrastinate for as long as possible, because they would eventually find out regardless of when they were told. But your subconscious knew that now was the time, especially since you were serious about the blonde. You had to embrace the truth, your truth.

You and Paige drove over to your parents house one Friday evening, in the hopes of possibly sharing this important news over dinner. You were a bundle of nerves, but the blonde held your hand reassuringly as the two of you began to walk towards the front door. You took a pause, hesitating to ring the doorbell , after gathering your thoughts, you gently pressed on the round button in front of you, revealing a small chime in reply. You were soon greeted by your parents, who were surprised but happy to see them. 

“y/n, Paige, what brings you here?” your mother chirps. Hugging the both of you before inviting you two inside.

As you walked through your house, skimming past the dining room and making your way towards the living room, you plopped down on the couch before breaking the silence, “We have something we need to talk to you both about” your voice trembling slightly.

Once the rest of them had joined you on the couch and surrounding seats, you took a deep breath and began to speak again. “Mom, Dad, you know how I’ve known Paige since freshman year of highschool? And how we’ve spent a lot of time with each other since then..” the two of them nodded in response before you continued, “well.. I realized that I like her  more than a friend way. What I’m trying to say- I’m saying is that I’m with Paige. Like we’re dating..” your voice trailing off before facing them both in the eye, as your eyes had been previously wandering and focusing on different objects in the area. “Im gay.”

There was a brief moment of silence as your parents processed the information. You feared the absolute worst as the seconds of silence passed by, but then you mom spoke up, her voice filled with love and acceptance. “Sweetheart, we love you no matter what. We just want you to be happy.”

You couldn't hold back your tears as you hugged them both, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief and gratitude. Paige wrapped her arms around them all, feeling grateful to be a part of such a loving and accepting family.

After the initial shock wore off, your parents welcomed Paige with open arms, eager to get to know her now officially as their daughter's girlfriend. You all spent the evening talking and laughing, and you couldn't have felt more loved and accepted. 

As the night came to a close, and as the both of you drove back to the blondes dorm, you couldn't stop smiling. Your heart was full of love for Paige and your family, as you squeezed her hand as a way to silently say I love you.

“I love you, P,” you whispered quietly, your voice filled with emotion. “I love you too, y/n” Paige replied, squeezing your hand back gently. “I'm so proud of you.”

And in that moment, that's when you knew that no matter what challenges you both faced in the future, as long as you had your girlfriend by your side, you could handle anything.

as always, thank you guys so much for reading!! don't forget to leave reqs :)

[newobsessionweekly]

Fire and fight

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Crossover 911 x The Rookie

Tim Bradford x Buckley!firefighter!reader

Evan "Buck" Buckley x sister!reader

Summary: Tim finds out about the illegal fights and the complicity of your brother and Eddie.

Angst to fluff

Warnings: violence, injuries, illegal activities, not proofread yet

A/N: A little crossover, but it's absolutely safe to read it if you didn't watch 911. Had a little time to spear due to my excruciating back pain that forced me to stay in bed for 2 days (I didn't stay in bed, was just an excuse to not study, yesterday I deep cleaned my whole house + cooked)

Requested: no

Words: 3.5k

You sit at the worn wooden table in the firehouse, the sounds of laughter and friendly banter filling the air around you. Tim's presence beside you is both comforting and electrifying, his rugged charm and unwavering support a constant in your chaotic world.

You steal a glance at him, admiring the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs, the way his hand brushes against yours in a subtle yet intimate gesture. You can't help but feel a surge of affection for the man who's become such an integral part of your life.

Despite the lively atmosphere, your mind drifts to the weight of the recent calls you've faced, the images of destruction and loss still fresh in your memory.

You've been together for months now, and though he knows you well, there are parts of yourself you've kept hidden, afraid to expose the darkness that sometimes consumes you.

As the team shares stories and jokes over lunch, Tim's eyes linger on you, his gaze filled with a mixture of adoration and concern.

"You seem distant today," he remarks softly, his hand finding yours under the table. "Everything okay?"

You force a smile, not wanting to burden him with the weight of your troubles.

"Just tired," you reply, squeezing his hand in reassurance. "It's been a rough week."

Tim nods understandingly, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

"Well, if you need anything, you know I'm here for you, right?"

You nod gratefully, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. Despite your best efforts to keep him at arm's length, Tim has a way of breaking down your defenses and seeing straight through to the heart of you. It both terrifies and exhilarates you, this vulnerability you share with him.

Tim leans in closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Hey, I was thinking," he murmurs, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "Why don't you sleep over tonight? Just the two of us."

Panic grips you, and you cast a desperate glance at Eddie, your close friend and confidant, silently pleading for help. Eddie meets your gaze with a knowing look, nodding subtly as if to say, 'Go ahead, I've got your back.'

Summoning a smile, you turn back to Tim. "I'd love to, but I promised Eddie I'd help him with Christopher tonight," you lie, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

Eddie, who was sitting across from you, shook his head subtly before joining your lie.

"And I really appreciate it, Y/N. Thank you."

Tim's disappointment is palpable, and you feel a pang of guilt knowing you're the cause. Lately, it feels like you haven't had much time for each other, your duties pulling you in different directions. But you can't bring yourself to tell him the truth, to let him see the vulnerability lurking beneath your facade.

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze under the table, his eyes filled with understanding.

"It's okay," he says softly, "We'll figure this out."

As the lunch break nears its end, Tim's gaze meets yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His hand finds its way to your cheek, his touch gentle yet firm, anchoring you in the present moment. There's a raw vulnerability in his eyes, a silent plea for understanding and acceptance.

"Be safe, okay?" he whispers, his voice a soft caress against your skin.

And then, in a moment of unspoken longing, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that steals your breath away. Time seems to stand still as the world falls away, leaving only the two of you suspended in a bubble of warmth and intimacy.

The kiss is sweet and gentle, yet filled with a depth of emotion that words could never convey. It's a silent exchange of love and reassurance, a promise to weather whatever storms may come your way. In that fleeting moment, you feel a sense of belonging wash over you, as if all the pieces of your fractured soul have finally found their home.

As Tim pulls away, his eyes meet yours with a mixture of tenderness and longing. It's a bittersweet moment, filled with the promise of what could be and the uncertainty of what lies ahead. But in that moment, all that matters is the warmth of his touch and the softness of his lips.

His forehead rests against yours, and you can see the love and concern in his eyes.

"You be safe too," you whisper.

As Tim leaves for patrol again, you watch him go with a heavy heart. The minute he’s out of sight, Eddie and Buck approach you with serious expressions. Eddie's arm is a solid, reassuring presence at your back as they guide you to the lockers, closing the glass door behind them. Their grave looks make your stomach churn.

Eddie is the first to speak, his voice tinged with frustration.

"I don't like this, Y/N. Lying for you, especially to Tim. He deserves to know what's going on."

Buck crosses his arms, his brows furrowed with concern.

"Seriously, you need to stop this. All of it. Think about what will happen when he finds out. I'm not sure which one he'll kill first."

You shake your head, trying to brush off their worries.

"If he finds out. And he will not, trust me."

Eddie steps closer, his eyes searching yours with a mix of anger and concern.

"How long do you think it'll take before he sees the bruises, huh? Dammit, Y/N, I see them."

You swallow hard, feeling a lump form in your throat.

"You see them because you know where to look."

Buck's voice softens, though his frustration is still evident.

"Tim's a cop, sis. A very good one if you didn't notice. He will find out and when he does—"

Before he can finish, the fire alarm blares through the station, cutting off the conversation. The familiar rush of adrenaline surges through you as the call to action drowns out everything else. You all move quickly, your argument momentarily forgotten as you slip into firefighter mode.

Eddie gives you a lingering look, his eyes filled with unspoken words, before he turns to head to the engine. Buck places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly.

"We'll talk about this later," he says, his tone softer but still firm.

The end of the shift arrives like a welcome reprieve, but for you, it's just the beginning of another battle. Driving to the location of the illegal fights, your mind races with a mixture of determination and apprehension. The sight of Eddie's and Buck's cars parked nearby only fuels the fire burning within you as you approach them, your steps heavy with pent-up frustration.

"What are you doing here?" you demand, your voice tight with simmering anger as you confront them.

"Making sure you're okay," Eddie meets your gaze and furrows his brows as he speaks. "I don't want to see Bradford angry. He scares the shit out of me when he's happy..."

Your jaw clenches at the mention of Tim, your thoughts momentarily drifting to the repercussions of him discovering your secret. Pushing those thoughts aside, you shake your head stubbornly.

"I'll be fine, don't worry."

Grabbing a beer from a nearby cooler, you plop down on the trunk of a car, Eddie and Buck flanking you on either side. You crack open the beer and take a long sip, the cool liquid doing little to quell the fire burning inside you.

Buck leans in close, his voice a hushed whisper. "You need to quit these fights, Y/N. It's not worth it."

Eddie nods in agreement, "We're worried about you."

You take a long swig of your beer, the liquid burning a path down your throat.

"I can take care of myself," you mutter.

But Buck's frustration is palpable as he reaches out to grasp your hand.

"We know you can, but this isn't the way to prove it. You're risking your life for what?"

You pull away from his touch, your gaze hardening.

"It's none of your business," you retort, your tone sharp with irritation. "I don't need you to babysit me."

As your name echoes on their lips, the crowd erupts into cheers, their voices blending into a deafening roar as you step into the center of the makeshift ring. Surrounded by eager spectators, you feel the weight of their expectations bearing down on you, fueling the fire that burns within.

Your brother and Eddie watch you from the sidelines, their expressions etched with concern as you face off against your opponent, a behemoth of a man twice your size and weight.

Within the perimeter, surrounded by the thunderous cheers of the crowd, you allow your thoughts to drift away, consumed by the adrenaline coursing through your veins. With each stretch of your limbs, the tension in your muscles tightens, fueling your determination to win.

The fight begins, and you move with a fluidity and grace that belies your size. You dodge and weave, your movements swift and precise as you deliver blows with calculated precision. But the man before you is relentless, his attacks coming fast and furious, each strike leaving a mark.

Blood trickles down your face, the metallic taste lingering on your tongue as you fight back with renewed strength. Your fists fly, each punch landing with a satisfying thud as you refuse to back down. The intensity of the battle is palpable, the air crackling with electricity as you and your opponent trade blows.

In the midst of the chaos, a sense of euphoria washes over you, a rush of exhilaration that eclipses the pain. For a fleeting moment, you feel alive, untethered from the burdens that weigh you down. In that moment, there is only the fight, and the sheer joy of testing your limits.

Your brother's concern etches lines of worry across his forehead as he watches the fight unfold, his eyes darting between you and the towering opponent.

"We should stop her," he insists.

But Eddie shakes his head "It's too late now," he replies, "They have to finish the fight."

Buck hesitates, his hand hovering over his phone as he weighs the consequences of calling your boyfriend. "I'll call Tim," he decides finally.

"Wait, Buck. Think about this." Eddie reaches out, his hand closing around Buck's wrist. "She'll hate us."

Buck hesitates for a moment, weighing his options, before relenting. "Tim's the only one who can talk her out of this," he says, determination in his voice as he dials the number. "She'll thank me later."

Tim arrives shortly after Buck's call, his expression a mask of concern and frustration as he rushes to your side. He had been about to clock out and change when Buck's urgent call came through, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios as he drove the streets to reach the location.

When he sees you, battered and bruised, a pang of heartache grips him. He's torn between wanting to hold you close and shake some sense into you. The sight of your pain is unbearable, and he struggles to contain his emotions as he approaches.

You're taking a break, sipping from a beer while Eddie inspects your wounds, his brow furrowed in concern. Though nothing serious, the bruises will leave their marks.

Despite the pain, you're all smiles and pride, reveling in the thrill of the fight. But when you catch sight of Tim, the smile fades from your face, replaced by a look of guilt.

"Tim?" you say, your voice barely above a whisper as you search his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

Tim's heart clenches at the sight of you, the blood and bruises marring your once flawless skin a stark reminder of the danger you willingly put yourself in.

"No, what are you doing here, Y/N?" he retorts,"What are you thinking? How can you be so reckless?"

"I'm not reckless," you protest, "I like it."

"Look at yourself, Y/N," he implores, his gaze softening. "Do you like what you see? Is this really what you want?"

Before you can respond, the break is over, and the announcer calls your names, signaling the start of the fight once more.

"Gotta go."

Tim watches helplessly as you disappear into the crowd, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. Despite his love for you, he knows he can't force you to change, can't protect you from the dangers you willingly face. And as he watches you disappear from view, his heart breaks a little more with each step you take away from him.

As you return to the center of the 'ring', determination burns bright in your eyes, fueled by a desperate need to prove to Tim that you're not in over your head. You know what you're doing, and you're determined to show him that you can handle yourself.

The crowd roars with anticipation as the fight resumes, but this time, you're ready. Every movement is calculated, every strike precise as you weave and dodge with a grace that belies your size. You're quicker, sharper, and more focused than ever before, fueled by a burning desire to prove your worth.

Buck's voice breaks through the chaos, his concern evident as he turns to Tim. "Why don't you stop her, man?" he asks, his eyes pleading for action.

But Tim shakes his head, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of pride and worry. "She hates you for calling me," he replies, his voice tinged with resignation. "No need to have her hate me too."

Eddie chuckles at their exchange, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Told you," he remarks, watching Buck with amusement.

As the fight reaches its climax, you find yourself on top, your opponent unable to keep up with your skill and determination. With one final, decisive blow, you send him sprawling to the ground, the crowd erupting into cheers as you emerge victorious.

As you collect your winnings from the bet, you make your way back to the three men, their concern palpable as they guide you to their cars.

Eddie pulls out the first aid kit, his hands gentle as he cleans up your wounds, his gaze soft with sympathy.

But it's Tim who captures your attention, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. You meet his gaze, searching for some sign of understanding, of acceptance, but all you find is disappointment.

In that moment, as you stand before him battered and bruised yet still standing tall, Tim's heart aches with a fierce love for you. He knows he can't protect you from every danger, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try. And as he watches you, his resolve only strengthens, determined to be there for you no matter what.

As Tim pulls out his phone and dials Lucy's number, you can't help but feel a sense of dread creeping over you.

"What are you doing?"

Tim ignores you, his focus on the phone call as he speaks in hushed tones. When he finally hangs up, his expression is grave as he turns to Buck and Eddie, who have finished cleaning up your face.

"Chen's taking a night shift. Can you stay here and make sure no one leaves before the cops arrive?" he asks.

Buck nods solemnly. "Yeah, man. Sure."

You feel defeated as you watch the exchange, knowing that Tim's disappointment is palpable. "Tim..." you start, your voice trailing off as you search for some way to reach him.

But Tim turns away from you, his heart breaking at the sight of your face. "I'm not talking to you now," he says quietly.

Turning back to Buck and Eddie, he issues his final instructions. "Chen will call you when they're close. You leave this place immediately. Understood?"

Buck and Eddie nod in agreement, their expressions somber as they prepare to carry out Tim's orders. As they make their way back, you remain seated on the trunk, swinging your feet like a child who knows they're in trouble.

Tim closes the distance between you, kneeling before you with a tenderness that breaks your heart all over again. Cupping your cheek with one hand, he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Come on, baby," he murmurs, his voice soft with tenderness. "You're coming home with me."

You nod silently, too defeated to argue. Climbing into your car, you follow Tim back to his place.

Tim closes the door behind you, his expression unreadable as he watches you from across the room. Sitting in the middle of the room, you feel like a child who knows she's in trouble, awaiting her punishment with bated breath.

Tim's hand rests gently at your lower back as he guides you to the couch, his touch both comforting and protective. As you settle onto the cushions, a sense of unease settles over you, your heart heavy with guilt and apprehension.

"Are you mad at me?" you finally muster the courage to ask.

Tim's expression softens as he looks into your eyes, his love for you shining through the worry and frustration.

"No, baby," he replies, his voice gentle. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just worried about you. I don't want to lose you."

He takes a deep breath, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he struggles to put his feelings into words.

"I don't want to lose you," he admits, "I fear enough when you're out on calls, taking unnecessary risks with Buck to save lives. I don't need to worry about your safety off-duty, too, especially when you're doing something as dangerous as that."

You listen quietly, absorbing his words as he speaks.

"But why?" he asks, his voice pleading. "Why do you do this?"

You hesitate for a moment, grappling with the weight of his question before finally finding the words to respond.

"It's extra money," you admit, your voice tinged with resignation. "And it helps me. When I'm out there, I don't have to think about anything. No more problems, no more pain. And when I win, it's the best feeling in the world."

Tim's heart aches at your words, the pain of knowing that you're seeking solace in something so dangerous. He reaches out, taking your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring.

"But, baby," he murmurs, his voice filled with love and concern. "Those fights are not good or fun. And you shouldn't have to risk your life to find peace. I'm here for you. Always."

His words wash over you like a wave of warmth, enveloping you in a cocoon of love and protection. In that moment, you realize just how lucky you are to have him by your side, a constant source of strength and support in a world filled with uncertainty.

Tim's expression softens as he looks at you, his eyes filled with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

"If you really want to fight, you can do it with me," he offers, his voice laced with a mixture of playfulness and determination. "I know a thing or two about that. I might even let you win, but only if it means keeping you safe."

His words, though tinged with playful jest, carry a weight of sincerity that fills your heart with warmth. You feel the depth of his love for you in every word, in every touch, and you're overwhelmed by a rush of emotion.

"But seriously, Y/N," he continues, his voice soft but resolute. "You need to stop doing this. I love you, and I can't bear to see you getting hurt again. It kills me to see you like this."

"Wait," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. "You love me?"

Tim's smile widens as he reaches out to cup your cheeks, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Of course I do, baby," he murmurs, "I love you. Even though you drive me insane and make me worry about you every second."

A smile tugs at your lips as you meet his gaze, a warmth spreading through you at the realization of his feelings. "I love you, Tim," you confess.

"But was it really necessary to call Lucy?"

Tim chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I am a cop, after all," he replies, his tone playful. "I couldn't just walk away from that. And besides," he adds with a teasing smile, "I didn't have enough cuffs for everyone. Just for you."

You play along, a playful twinkle in your eye. "Oh, you gonna arrest me, Officer Bradford?" you tease, a smirk playing on your lips.

Tim leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "I have something else in mind," he whispers, his voice husky with desire. "And cuffs might just help."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and as you lean in to kiss him, you're filled with a sense of warmth and belonging that only he can provide.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Being best friends with jennifer check and one day she suggests you practice kissing on each other "just for fun" until you slowly realize you're falling in love 💓💓

this is the kind of Jen content we need more of honestly 💖

Practice Makes Perfect (Jennifer Check x reader)

Warnings: (almost) friends to lovers, kissing (duh), swearing/salty language, slightly suggestive, could be seen as coersion as reader isn't entirely sure to kissing at first

Jennifer had invited you over to her house for what was supposed to be a study session, but it ended up being more of a hang out than anything else. The two of you were lounging on her bed, Ayesha Erotica playing faintly on her MP3 player in the background.

You were just about to ask if she could change the music to something less vulgar when she dropped a major bomb on you.

"We should kiss," she suggested in a way that was much too casual for your liking as she filed her pristine nails, not even bothering to look up. "You know, for practice. In case either of us meets someone and we need to know how."

You choked on the soda you were drinking, which led to a good two or three minute coughing fit before you were finally able to respond. "What?" You asked incredulously, a look of shock evident on your face.

"I said," she began with an eye roll, speaking slow and condescendingly. "We. Should. Kiss. What's the matter, scared you might like it?" She taunted with a smirk.

You scoffed at her question as if it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. Truth be told, you were a little afraid of liking it, but more than that you were worried about her making fun of you for being inexperienced.

"No, that's not it. I just- I wouldn't want to ruin your lipgloss, is all." A lame excuse, even by your standards, and one that she could surely see through, but it was better than nothing.

It was now her turn to scoff at you. "Oh, please. Don't be such a pussy." She moved over to where you were sitting on the bed, reaching her arms out to wrap around your neck before you could stop her.

"Wha- you-" You tried to speak, but your words got caught in your throat. It didn't help that the close proximity was making it damn near impossible for you to think straight.

"Are you telling me that you don't want to kiss me at all? Not even in the slightest?" She asked in a tone full of false offense and hurt, sticking her bottom lip out as she pouted at you.

"N- No, that's not- that's not what I'm saying, Jen..." your voice trailed off as she leaned in close, the scent of her perfume filling your nostrils.

"Then kiss me." She said in an uncharacteristically soft tone, doing her best to look as innocent as possible. "Please?"

Your resolve weakened and you finally nodded your head before closing the distance between you and pressing your lips to hers. She tasted like her strawberry lipgloss and felt like a dream come true.

She pulled you down on top of her on the bed as you kissed, but you barely noticed. Until you heard her let out a soft moan, that is.

You quickly shot back up, feeling your face grow warm as you realized what just happened. Jennifer merely giggled as she looked up at you from where she was still laying down, her legs spread slightly.

"Oh, come on. Don't leave me hanging," she teased as you shuffled away from her, going to sit on the opposite end of the bed. She sat up and slowly crawled over to you, smirking before giving you another kiss.

"We should do this more often," she murmured suggestively, her lips still close to yours. "After all, practice makes perfect."

You didn't say anything in response, instead choosing just to kiss her again. After all, what do you say to your best friend when you realize you might be falling in love with her after one stupid kiss?

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated <3

Main masterlist | Jennifer's Body masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @missmewts @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube @corn3liiia @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous (if you were crossed out it means I couldn't tag you for some reason)

[entitled-fangirl]

Two idiots in love. (P8)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: Joel makes his decision to leave Ellie. But what will he decide about the reader?

Warnings: crying, cursing, fighting, yelling, blood, guns

Author's note: I'm crying- this hurts my soul.

Masterlist

Part 1 and 9

..................................................................

Joel walked up the staircase of the little house that was now theirs.

Tommy agreed to take Ellie to the fireflies in the morning, and he was relieved. 

He carefully climbed up the stairs, opening the master bedroom door.

Y/N was sound asleep on the bed. Joel could tell from the way she slept on top of the covers with a tissue in her hand that she had fallen asleep crying. It broke what was left of his heart knowing that he was the cause of it.

He shut the door quietly and moved to Ellie's room.

Ellie was quite awake. And angry.

"Is this really all they had to worry about?" She asked while staring at a diary from before the breakout. "It's bizarre."

Joel nodded, "Listen-"

"-Why are you here? If you're gonna ditch me, us, then ditch me."

"What exactly did you hear?"

"'I have to leave her. You have to take her.'"

"I made this decision for your own good. You're better off with Tommy. He knows the area better than I do."

"Do you give a shit about me?"

"Of course, I do."

"THEN WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF?" Ellie sat in the silence, "I'm not her, you know. Maria… she told me about Sarah-" "-Don't." Joel growled. "Don't say another word."

"I'm sorry about your daughter, Joel. But, I've lost people too."

"You don't know what loss is."

"Everyone I have ever cared for has either left me or died. Except for you and Mom. So, don't tell me I'd be better off with someone else, because the truth is.. I would just be more scared." Ellie froze, realizing she had just called Y/N Mom.

Joel sat on his thoughts. "You're right. You're not my daughter. And I sure as hell ain't your dad. And I'm goddamn sure Y/N isn't your fucking Mom. Now, come dawn, we're going our separate ways."

He turned to leave, but Ellie spoke up just barely, "What about Y/N? Are you just abandoning her, too?" 

He stopped, turning around to face the girl again. "Y/N has enough in life that she won't miss us."

And he slammed the door behind him.

Y/N peered out from the doorway of her room with puffy eyes and messy hair. Her voice was soft and concerning, "…Joel?"

He left out a breath at the sound of her voice. "…what."

"Is everything okay? Is Ellie alright?"

"Ellie is just fine. She's leaving in the morning."

She tilted her head, taking another step out into the hall.

But Joel stopped her before she could go too far. "Don't. Just go back to bed."

He wished he wouldn't have seen the tears that filled her eyes as she closed the door once more.

…

The next morning, Y/N sat with Ellie on her bed, helping her pack her things. 

"You know," Ellie sighed, "Joel said something about you yesterday… while we were fighting."

Y/N shook her head, "Let's not talk about that. Let's just enjoy what we have left with each other, yeah?"

Ellie nodded, "Alright. I like that."

They continued packing the girl up, trying to make small talk about the trip ahead of her.

"Why are you staying? Why can't you come with me?"

Y/N stood straight, "I'll be extra weight. And… as much as I want to go with you, I can't leave Joel. He needs someone just as much as you do. And you'll have Tommy."

As if on cue, a knock sounded on the bedroom door.

Y/N held her breath to see Joel. 

But it was Tommy.

Y/N sighed and helped Ellie carry one of the bags, "Mind if I walk with you guys, Tommy?"

He shook his head, "I'd never mind that."

…

The walk was quiet and awkward. 

But what made it worse was the sight at the stables.

Joel was strapping a saddle onto a horse.

Ellie grumbled, "Come to say goodbye or something?"

"No," Joel immediately replied, "I came here to steal one of these horses and go."

Y/N felt her heart drop. He was going to leave her behind like that with no remorse?

"I woulda gave you one." Tommy replied.

"I know." Joel nodded. His gaze finally moved to Y/N and his shoulders slumped just barely, not thinking that she would be there. His gaze quickly shifted from her from the guilt he felt. "Anyway, that was 30 minutes ago and I guess…" 

He sighed as he approached Ellie. "You deserve a choice. I still think you'd be better off with Tommy-"

"-Let's go." Ellie replied, throwing her bag at him.

"O…Okay." Joel nodded. He sighed and turned to get the horse.

Y/N grabbed at his sleeve. Her voice was weaker than she would've liked, "What are you doing?"

He did everything he could to avoid her eye contact, "I'm taking Ellie, I guess."

"Bullshit." She reasoned, "You're gonna take me, too. You were gonna wake me up, weren't you? Before we left?"

"We?" Joel asked.

Y/N's mouth fell open and she took a step away from him. "You were… gonna leave me here?"

No one in the stable dared to say a word.

"Listen, I left you a note."

"Fuck your note, Joel Miller."

His jaw clenched. "You don't mean that."

"I fucking do. And fuck you."

"Calm down."

She scoffed and took a few steps back to give herself a moment to breathe. When her breathing went back to normal, so did her tone. "I don't understand."

"You have everything you need, here."

"But, you're not here."

Fuck, he thought. This was gonna be harder than he anticipated. 

"No," he reasoned, "But you can have a life here. A good one."

"How many times do I have to say it, Joel?" She pleaded. "I don't want any run-of-the-mill life. I want a life with you. I don't give two shits what we do. You… and Ellie… that's the only family I'll ever need."

If only she knew what she was saying.

Joel fought in his head how to tell her. What to say. 

If only he would've left earlier, and she would've woken up to the note.

The note that told her everything.

The one that was sitting on the coffee table in the living room, written in his scribbled handwriting- that note.

The one that said he loved her too much to make her choose. So, he was making the decision for her.

He knew she wouldn't be saying all this if she knew the truth.

But his heart was too damn selfish to tell her.

"Alright." He sighed, "Go pack your shit up. We leave in 30 minutes."

The small shred of happiness that broke through her face only tormented Joel more.

She placed a hand on his chest, "Thank you. Really. Thank you."

But Joel's eyes were looking at Tommy, whose was nodding his head slowly, taking in Joel's decision to hide the truth.

…

Y/N had never ridden a horse until here in Jackson, and she was nowhere near comfortable on one. 

Hence, why she was on the back of Joel's.

It was nice to be this close to him. Her arms were wrapped around his waist. She could smell that overwhelming scent of sweat and pine that he could never seem to wash off.

And she knew she made the right choice in pleading.

And Joel knew he made the wrong one.

He knew the second he said okay that he was being self-centered and foolish.

But he could never deny her.

He knew that he would have to hold this secret until they returned to Jackson.

Then she could scream and cry and curse him all she wanted. And turn to her own family.

But he couldn't help but be relieved that he could share just a little more time with her.

…

"Wide right. You're flinchin'." Joel smiled.

"The target's too small," Ellie tried to reason.

"That target is fucking huge," Y/N smiled.

"And I'm not flinching," Ellie continued, "rifles just suck."

"Just give it." Joel muttered.

"Okay, but it doesn't aim right."

Joel smiled with a low hum. "A deep breath in, slow breath out. You squeeze the trigger like you love it. Gentle, steady, nice and slow-"

"-You gonna shoot this thing or get it pregnant?" Ellie yelled.

Y/N let out a breathy laugh, trying to mask her amusement. Ellie caught it and decided to keep pushing, "Is that how he fucking does it?"

It was Joel's turn to laugh as he watched Y/N's entire face turn a bright shade of red.

"Leave her alone," he finally said, still laughing.

"Alright." Ellie sighed, "But this isn't gonna work. It doesn't aim right."

Gunshot.

Perfect shot.

"You. Dick."

Y/N smiled again despite her red cheeks, happy to be with her little family.

She placed her hands on Joel's shoulders and leaned over him, giving him the lightest peck on the cheek. 

And he couldn't help but smile, too.

…

"So, I've been thinking," Joel mentioned as they rode through the university, "I don't want a sheep ranch, actually. I mean… if the deal is that I can do anything?"

"Yeah," Ellie said, "That's the deal."

"Well, when I was a kid, I wanted to be a singer."

Ellie began to laugh.

He turned to her on his horse, "Why is that funny?"

She straightened up on her own, "Well, you gotta sing something now."

"No."

"Oh, Ellie," Y/N smiled, "I've heard him. It's actually pretty decent."

"Really?"

Joel looked over his shoulder at the woman, "Respectfully, sweet girl, shut the hell up. Quit telling the kid stuff."

She laughed loudly, almost falling off of the horse.

…

As they rode through the university in search for the fireflies, they found it to be abandoned. 

Each guard station left deserted.

Finally, they tied their horses to trees and decided to take a bit on foot.

He helped Y/N down carefully, "You got your gun?"

She nodded in a worried manner.

They wandered through one of the buildings before hearing a noise.

Joel barely peaked out of the window to see four men wandering outside in search for something.

"Out the back."

The ran as quickly and as quietly as they could towards their horses. But due to their place out in the open, Joel knew they'd have to make a run for it.

"Ready?"

The girls nodded.

He led them out to the horses and began to throw their bags onto the them. But he was distracted. 

"JOEL!"

He ducked in time to miss the swing of a baseball bat from one of the men. The bat broke as it hit the tree behind him.

Joel grabbed the man and head butted him harshly before putting him into a chokehold.

The sound of his neck snapping was unmistakable.

Joel dropped the body and turned to the girls to check on them.

Y/N let out a soft breath and put her hands on his chest, "You alright?"

He nodded, letting his fingers go to her hair, "Yeah… yeah?"

"Y/N…" Ellie said quietly.

She turned to look at Ellie and saw the girl's concerned gaze at Joel.

Y/N turned back to Joel and followed his gaze too.

The broken bat handle was protruding from Joel's stomach.

"Oh, fuck…"

Y/N was frozen as she looked back up to his face.

He grunted and took a hold of the handle, pulling it out with a yelp.

"Joel.. get on the horse," Ellie reprimanded. 

Y/N saw the other three men approaching at a run, and it spurred her into action. 

"Get him on the horse, Ellie!" She yelled.

One they got him on, Y/N pushed Ellie onto her own before getting on Joel's and riding off in the nick of time.

…

While Joel steered the horse, Y/N was holding her hands to the wound from behind. 

She was grateful that his body was blocking the sight of his blood on her hands.

"I think we're good," Ellie finally sighed. "Joel.."

Y/N gently pushed against the man, wishing she could see his face, "Joel…?"

His pale body fell from the horse.

Y/N jumped down, as did Ellie.

They kneeled on either side of him.

Only then did Y/N see the bright red on her hands. 

The way it colored the white snow around them.

"I can't…" she cried, "I can't do this, Ellie…"

"Fuck!" Ellie yelled as she tried to wake Joel. "Y/N, c'mon. You gotta help."

"I can't, Ellie. I'm not strong enough…."

"Please," Ellie pleaded, "I need you."

Her words immediately struck something in Y/N because she began to move back to Joel with determination. 

She couldn't let her only family fall like this.

.........................................................

Tags: @lover-of-books-and-tea, @pedropascalfan221, @lottieellz101, @bambisweethearts, @hiroikegawa, @elliaze, @littleshadow17, @n7cje

[pascaloverx]

Moonlight

Summary: You and Edward Cullen used to have a romantic relationship. But fate seemed not to believe in the possibility of a vampire and a potential she-wolf being together. Years after your separation, you return to Forks. Edward is committed to Bella Swan, and Jacob Black has his own pack. What happens when, upon your return, you begin to transform into a she-wolf and both Edward and Jacob seem eager to revisit the past with you?

Author's Note: The characters in this fanfic do not belong to me but to Stephenie Meyer and the Twilight universe. The story blends events that happened in the Twilight saga movies with invented ones. If you're enjoying the fanfic, please interact. This story will contain inappropriate language, a possible love triangle, scenes of violence, and romance. I would appreciate it if those who enjoy the fanfic could leave a comment and like (kudos). Engagement helps me know that there are still people reading. I hope you enjoy this chapter ❤

FIVE SEVEN

SIX

Edward insisted that you go to his house after you had sex in the car. As you said you would stay by his side in the heat of the romantic moment. It seems stupid now, but it's what you can do now. So at this moment, you are finishing your shower in the bathroom of Edward's almost-suite-like bedroom. He is currently informing his family that you are at their house. Your mind tells you that they will hate your presence, especially after his recent breakup with Bella. That's why, after finishing your shower, your plan is to look for a place to rent.

"You were wrong, they reacted better than you imagined. But they want you to come down for breakfast with them," Edward says, entering the bedroom and then opening the bathroom door, holding a towel for you to dry off. Sometimes you forget that he reads minds. You step out of the bathtub and wrap yourself in the towel. Edward kisses you gently while holding your face with both hands.

"Now try to tell me the truth. Your family doesn't have to force themselves to accept me here just because I'm homeless. I'll rent a place before Rosalie tries to throw me out the window. And I need to talk to Sam. But I can have breakfast with your family as long as none of them pretend to eat food." You say while putting on some clothes, and Edward turns around to give you privacy. When you finish dressing, you kiss Edward on the cheek, and he turns to look at you. Honestly, as he stares at you, a warm feeling of affection fills your heart.

"Don't you want me to go with you? Since you plan to reveal our relationship..." Edward says, holding your waist, and you hug him. Then you lightly slap his head, showing your annoyance at him reading your mind.

"Our agreement about you staying out of my mind still stands. I admit I'm scared of his reaction, but we're all grown-ups. And even though I can't read your mind, I can assure you that I won't run away or be afraid to admit that I feel something for you. Even if it could lead to a significant war between vampires and wolves. And you're definitely not coming with me," you say, laughing a little at Edward's reaction to hearing that he isn't going with you. Holding his hand, you head downstairs to have breakfast with the Cullens. The table is set, and it's clear they went to great lengths to make you feel welcome.

"We didn't know what you like to eat, but Bella used to have pancakes and bacon. Sometimes waffles and scrambled eggs. You're not exactly human, but you probably enjoy the same food she did. I know you two have similar tastes in many things," Rosalie says as you finish coming down the stairs. You look at her, knowing she isn't happy about your presence in her house, but you can't blame her.

"Rosalie, take it easy," Edward says, placing his hand on your shoulder, as if to show he's on your side. You breathe in and out, trying not to get upset. After all, do you really have the right to be upset?

"Edward is right, Rose. We have a guest, and we will treat her well. Y/N, I know you'll forgive Rose for her tone. We're just adjusting to this new situation," Carlisle says with some grace. He’s a good father. It makes you miss your own.

"I'd like to thank all of you for your efforts. But you don’t need to pretend. I know it’s sudden for me to be here; I promise I’ll leave. It’s too soon for us to be in this situation. Too soon for Edward and me to be together, but to be honest, Edward and I have had a relationship. We were secret lovers before he met Bella. That doesn’t justify anything, but perhaps Edward and I feel like we waited too long to be together." You look at all the Cullens in front of you, feeling like you’re making a confession. They seem to understand you, at least a little.

"Dear, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that it’s none of our business. As long as you and Edward are happy, we will support you," Alice says kindly. But you know it’s hard for them to support you both.

"I think it’s too early to talk about support. Not to be rude, Y/N, but just a few weeks ago Edward was ready to marry Bella. You can’t expect…" Jasper says, and you feel guilt washing over you. You’ve spoiled someone’s happy ending. You can't even respond. As the Cullens look at you with a mix of fear and concern, you see Edward wanting to comfort you. But right now, you need to leave this house. You should never have come. You run outside without saying anything more, hearing Alice cursing Jasper while Rosalie takes pride in not being the one to reveal that Edward was going to propose to Bella.

“Y/N, stop. Just listen to me for a moment. Don’t push us away. Don’t use this as an excuse to run from me,” Edward says, trying to stop you from getting into your car. You’re trying not to cry, trying to stay composed. But it feels like you’re back at square one.

“You were going to propose to her. Do you know what that means for us?” you say louder than you intended. Your emotions are overflowing.

“It was before you came back. Before we realized that what we felt before still exists. My decision not to propose was also a way to protect her,” Edward explains. You somewhat understand him, but right now, the anger towards Jacob feels justified. You feel like a terrible person.

“I’m not going to leave you. I’m tired of running, but I need some time. We both need to start over, slowly. I’m going to talk to Sam about us, and in the meantime, try to have a conversation with your family and your ex. But don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” you say, letting the tears roll down your face before going to Edward and giving him a soft, comforting kiss on the lips. Maybe, just maybe, you and he are meant to find a way through this together. After the kiss, you say goodbye to Edward and head towards Uley's house. You know he'll find out your big secret eventually. It’s better that you tell him. As you approach the house, you see Sam and Emily. Immediately, Uley seems to harden his expression when he sees you.

"I never supported your relationship with Jacob, but you’ve definitely managed to get yourself into a worse relationship. You and a monster whose heart doesn’t beat. A damned bloodsucker, a vampire. Do you have any idea what that is? An abominable union. Your father would die if he were here to witness this." Sam is too enraged, but Emily touches his hand lightly as if calming him down.

"We talked about this, Sam. Don’t be rude to her. I’ll make some tea for us," Emily says gently, giving Sam a kiss on the cheek. You watch as Emily leaves you and Sam alone.

"My father died knowing this. Knowing that his daughter fell in love with a cold monster that survives on blood. He found out just before he made me leave Forks. Before he died. He reacted like you, and I was too young to defend myself back then, but I’m not now. I’m not going to lower my head and let you walk all over me. If you want to resolve this, face me. You may have your pack, but you’re still a weak man. You can’t see beyond your own nose. That’s why you’re an imperfect leader." You don’t mince words as you let your anger take over. Sam looks at you almost with disgust now.

"I’m giving you the chance to leave and forget this ridiculous romance of yours. If you continue, I won’t hesitate to end this fairy tale of yours, even if it means hurting you." Sam threatens. You laugh at him, as if his attempt to intimidate you has only amused you, but the truth is, it’s frightening. And in reality, apart from Edward, you don’t think anyone else is on your side right now.

"So it’s pertinent for you to know that she will have the support of my pack. Hurting her means hurting me, Uley," Jacob says, appearing out of nowhere and surprising both you and Sam. He stands beside you, staring down Sam. You wonder how he knew you were talking to Sam or how he arrived so quickly, but it's good to see him there, even if you and he are currently at odds.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[the-californicationist]

s-soap with a dommy mommy? (it wont let me ask as anon so pls dont judge me)

most people have been really nice but i had an anon get a little aggro so I switched it off for now - sorry! I'll turn it back on after i feel brave again. tumblr is so scary to me cause im pretty new to it, and sometimes its hard for me to deal with it. lol

But! It is not hard for you, Soap's dominatrix girlfriend, to deal with him. He thought he'd leave his pretty black leather collar at home when he went into the field last month. When he walked into the door tonight, he saw his collar and leash hanging in the window, dangling like a shining medal, and he knew he was in for a true punishment.

NSFW below the cut. TW: dom/sub, whips, sounding, anal play, femdom, explicit consent, some aftercare

In truth, he'd been looking forward to it. Soap had left the collar behind on purpose - not out of shame; it blended in with his tactical gear seamlessly, and no one asked about it - but because he knew you'd be waiting to reprimand him... deliciously. Even just leaving it on its tiny hook before shipping off had made his cock leak with anticipation, and driving back home had given him the exact same feeling.

Soap heard you before he saw you. Your whip and its tell-tale snapping as it thudded languidly against the hardwood floor filled the quiet house with threatening little echoes.

Slap.

Slap.

Slap.

And then, silence. You saw him step into the doorway, peeling himself apart, garment by garment, happy to receive his punishment from you, his judge and juror. You were his Master, and he was your faithful dog, ready and eager to heel.

Naked, he padded toward you, sinking to the floor on his knees, waiting for your edict.

"You thought you could go across the world without me, my darling."

"No, mistress. I didnae mean --"

Slap!

The whip carved a rut into the floor, right between his thighs, expertly placed, missing him by just a breath, and another scar was added to the landscape of his playroom. Silence filled the space again. You could see his skin twitching across his cheek, and there were goosebumps running up his arms and neck, making his hair stand on end. You brought the body of the whip around to his arm, and you dragged it up, over his elbow, around his shoulders and down the opposite arm in a slow, soft caress.

"That wasn't a question, pretty boy," you purred, using your whip to point to the collar in his hands, "Put it on. Now."

He did so, holding the leash in his two open palms, offering it to you like a meal.

"Remind me," you asked in a quizzical voice, "What did I promise you if you disobeyed me again?"

You watched him swallow hard, both out of concern and excitement. He waited for a moment before answering you, his breathing deep and ragged,

"You promised you would... fuck me, mistress."

You gave him a few quiet tsks with your tongue before leaning down to him, taking his leash in your hand, and yanking him fully down on the floor,

"Tell the truth, Johnny. What. Was. My. Promise?"

You walked around behind him where he lay, face down, and kicked his legs apart, forcing him to spread himself for you. Then, you used the pointed toe of your extremely tall boot heel to press into his asshole, watching as the patent leather of the shoe pried his thick cheeks apart.

He writhed, but he didn't get up.

"You... promised... ahh!"

You knelt down behind him and used the blunt end of the whip to push into his hole, fucking him with the rounded ball of the weapon as slowly as you could.

"I'm waiting..." you threatened, pushing the plastic handle a little further than what he was expecting.

You watched as his body responded to you, twisting muscles and strong bones knotting together,

"You promised you would fuck my cock!"

His voice came out in a low whine, like a wounded animal, afraid and feral. You removed the whip and allowed him to relax before you bent down and licked his gaping hole, shoving your tongue just deep enough for him to feel you.

"Nngh, ahh. Mistress, please... mmf. Fuck..."

"Turn over."

He obeyed you immediately, and you gave his leash enough slack for him to get comfortable. Soap was sweating, panting, and his pupils were like two black, shining diamonds.

"Hands," you reminded him, and Soap immediately tucked his hands behind his back, palms down, trapping them under his ass.

"Yes, mistress."

"Mmm," you chuckled a bit, turning sinister, "You're not fooling anyone. You went, without your collar, on your fucking mission, and what did you think? That you would crawl back here to me and I would reward you after such a betrayal?"

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The heavy tails of the whip made moderate contact with his wide chest, causing him to grunt from the dull pain.

"No! No, mistress."

"You've been a bad boy, Johnny. A very bad boy."

You let the flexible tails of the whip run down the length of his torso, dragging across his skin, all the way down to his rosy, shining cock. He was as hard as you'd ever seen him, and he was leaking all over the place. You loved how wet Johnny got for you. It made everything it touched glitter with silky precome in the low light.

"Yes, mistress. I have," he confessed, finally submitting to you, "I deserve no mercy."

It was beautiful to watch. All of the high-strung, spooled-up excitement he had come in with was instantly washed away. It was like he had found a dark sort of peace, his facial features and his enormous body melting like ice to a flame.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"Mmngh! Ah, fuck. Mistress, please. More. Please."

Snap. Snap. Snap.

"Yes. Mmfffuck! Fuck. Fuck. Nnnahhgh."

Thud. Snap. Thud. Snap.

"Ahh! Ahh. Ahh. Yes. Mistress. Yes. Yes!"

Red lashes painted your lover's hirsute form like powdered blush. You never hit him hard enough to do damage. You'd had plenty of other lovers in the past who had needed a much firmer hand. Soap was so pliant. So needy. So easy. And his quiet whimpers were your favorite song.

You knelt beside him, petting his sweaty cheek with the back of your hand, tracing your fingers over his open lips, plucking gently at his soft nipples.

"Are you ready for your punishment, Johnny?" Your voice was little more than a whisper.

"Yes, mistress."

"Good boy."

That praise earned you a trembling shudder. It rattled through his body, and you watched as his belly hollowed with each gasp of air.

He'd never tried to using a sounding rod before. You had helped him play with the tip of his cock, just pressing gently into it, letting him understand the sensations you could craft within him. But, you'd promised him you would save it for a special occasion, a truly intense punishment, for when he needed you to bring him back under your wing. It was a difficult tour, you knew, and the closer he got to defeating Makarov and his band of terrorists, the more he lashed out, seeking your protective retribution.

You were more than happy to provide.

Bending over him, you sucked his head into your mouth. Feeling how swollen he was, you knew he wouldn't last long. So, you found the metal rod you had prepared for him, sterilized and ready to be coated in lube and shoved into your lover's cock hole.

You brought it up to his face to let him see it. It was long, but you would only be teasing him with it this first time. If he took it well, you were fully equipped to take him much further. His eyes followed the implement like a moth to a lamp.

"Say your safe word, now."

"Tango."

"Good boy."

You rubbed the rod against his cock, and his whole body convulsed at the feeling of its cold length. He was shaking, his eyes wild with excitement. He looked to you for guidance in the face of this unknown.

"I've got you, pretty boy. Be good for me."

"Yes, mistress," he could barely speak the words.

You continued to rub the rod all around the outside of his cock, circling it, crossing over his slit, and then, finally, you let the tip dip - just barely - into the head of his dick.

"Mmmm, fuck...." He moaned so low that you felt the vibration resonating in his body.

You pulled it out, just a centimeter of insertion, and pushed it back in, over and over. In and out, fucking him with the cool, shining tool. As it entered him, it made soft, wet popping noises from the obscene amount of lube you had used to make it as easy on him as possible.

As you worked the rod, you began to rub his shaft. He was as hard as steel himself, and it was impossible to fit your hand around him. Soap was thick, and your body was hungry to have him inside of you again. But, tonight was for him, not you. You were here to serve him when he needed you most. You controlled him when he was out of control. You created peace in the midst of all of his chaos.

You worked him, up and down, in and out, slicking your palm across his skin, watching as he came undone.

"It's... too much, mistress. I cannae take much more. Please... have mercy."

"Are you asking for mercy," you snarled, "Or leniency?"

"Forgive... me... mistress..." Soap was slowly becoming more pliant and slipping deeper into his subspace.

"You've been so good for me," you pressed the sounding rod just a little deeper into him, and he moaned loudly, "Are you ready to come for me?"

"Fuck, yes, mistress. I cannae last any longer. Please let me come."

"Come, Johnny. Come for me."

You watched all of that strength that he kept trapped behind his skin come alive. His belly sank in with a deep breath, and when you pulled out the rod, he started to erupt with sticky, milky come all over himself and you.

"Ahhh! Ah! Oh, fuck. Fuck! Fuck!"

"Good boy. That's my good boy."

You dropped the rod and released him. All at once, he pulled his hands out from under him and wrapped you up, clumsily tackling you to the floor with him, releasing himself from your care, hugging you tightly to his chest, desperate for your touch. You held him back, running your hands through his grown out mohawk, petting his neck and back, shushing him. He was thanking you, kissing you, pulling you into him to show you his gratitude and his love.

"I promise I'll be good," Soap mumbled into your neck, "I'll be your good boy."

"You already are," you kissed his cheek and smiled down at him, letting him relax into you.

AO3 Link

[tfyoulookingatgiuxs]

Hello! I’ve read a bit of your stuff and really like it. Could you do a cute secret relationship story with Billy Hargrove x fem reader pls.

Thank you!

• Hmm...why not? It would be interesting. Worth a try! (I'm not a big fan of Billy but I'm happy to be able to satisfy your requests).

Together Forever

Billy Hargrove x Female!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You and Billy have been engaged for more than two years in secret, without the knowledge of the citizens of Hawkins but also without the knowledge of the boy's father. You both want only one thing, to live together. And staying in Hawkins is not part of your plans.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Fluff, fem!reader, bad language, use of Y/N, you're surname is Williams, daddy issues, abuse, sigarettes, secret relationship.

𝐀/𝐍: Here it is! This is the first request, I really hope I exceeded @unamused-boss expectations Sorry for my English, this is not my native language. Please support new writers and reblog. Hope you enjoy! (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

In Hawkins the air was cold and this week the forecast said it would bring down the flood. You savored the air which made you smile. You never hated rain or gloomy weather, in fact you found them relaxing and perfect for drinking a nice cup of milk or hot chocolate, as if you were back in winter close to the Christmas period.

You moved some leaves as you crept further towards the house, a classic house and welcoming and tidy on the outside. You were in the garden, but hey, let's calm down, you're not going to rob! But you are looking for the window to the room of Billy Hargrove, your boyfriend. Yes exactly. You Y/N Williams, an ordinary student at Hawkins High, engaged to the big and strong Billy Hargrove! You didn't believe it either, to tell the truth. You were not popular, much less well-regarded by most of your classmates, you were silent and perhaps even mysterious, you were good at school, sure, but you had a temper that perhaps half the students at school envied, and that is precisely what triggered a connection in you and Billy the day you met.

In his eyes you were normal, nothing that Billy cared about, you were just like all the other girls, but he changed his mind as soon as you won a verbal battle with him, leaving him breathless. No one dared to challenge him and especially with such confidence, but you, you were the first girl to do so, and it left the students shocked for at least two weeks. You seemed like sworn enemies, after that spat neither of you tried to annoy the other so as not to start a war, but in reality you realized that in the end you weren't that far apart, in fact you could even say they were quite similar.

You remembered when you and Billy attended Mrs. Davis's classes, which were really boring. The boy wouldn't stop giving you glances and giggling every now and then, only to both get scolded and sent to the principal. The students were tired of this, you were seriously cat and dog! Unbearable! But what people didn't know was that both of you weren't teasing each other to cause anger or annoyance to the other, but it was totally the opposite, they were pure and true digs. At first you didn't notice, you thought it was normal, something for friends. But apparently this was not the case. From secret friends you have become secret lovers.

Wow...

You seriously didn't expect this...you had to be honest about this. After you both got together you saw a side of Billy you never thought you'd seen. From the obnoxious, arrogant, vulgar and popular boy he was, he had finally revealed himself: kind, loving, difficult and sweet.

In short, never judge a book by its cover, right? The same thing apparently goes for people.

But now you're wondering... why in secret? Why were you two secret friends and now secretly engaged?

This was because Billy had a great reputation at school and was afraid of being criticized by others. You felt very sorry for him and you understood it. In Hawkins High, gossip is the fruit of its existence and if there wasn't anyone to criticize or make fun of, what would the students of this fucking school do? Exact. Just nothing. This is why you understood that your school was perhaps the shittiest of all. They would torment not only Billy but you too. You showed such confidence and superiority towards Billy that day and now you are friends? In short, something that cannot be heard!

You have therefore decided to keep the matter in secret so as to be left alone.

As for the relationship, well, both of you were actually ready to no longer hide and face those dick faces, but you immediately backed out when you found out that Billy's father strictly forbade going out with you and doing anything. something more productive in his life. The boy had never told you about his family until that point and when he told you about his father you were horrified by it. His father was a violent and aggressive man, he hurt him while demanding respect from his son who he threatened or even beat if he disobeyed, a father that no one would like to have...

The night you and Billy got ready to go out on a date, he called you and canceled without telling you why. Then when you met and talked about it you became calm again and consoled him. Billy vented and it hurt, you couldn't know what it meant to live in that hell. For your boyfriend, however, it was fine, especially when he met you, for him you were an angel, one of the most beautiful and sweetest girls he had ever seen, for him, you were a divine salvation from his torment, and if he had to suffer all this to stay with you then he would have tolerated it.

Seriously, this guy turned out to be more amazing than you thought.

For his father you were just an adventure, a simple whore with whom Billy would be satisfied and therefore he ordered him to leave you alone and look for something to earn, since Billy recently left school.

In short...a beautiful but complicated relationship.

You arrived in front of his closed window and as soon as you saw his figure from behind while he was lifting some weights through the glass, you knocked and he turned around. He smiled at you showing his docile face and opened the door for you. Most of the time it was you who barged into his room to visit him, unlike him, other than part-time work, you had nothing to do.

“My bad girl barges into my room again, I should start worrying” He said teasingly as he helped you up. You smiled "Nah, you don't need it, I'm used to it by now" you both gave each other a kiss on the lips as a greeting. That afternoon, all members of Billy's family were out: Max was with his friends, Susan was shopping and his father was at work.

"How are you?" You asked as you eyed his weights. It was now a legitimate question to ask every time you saw him training. An outside observer might think he did it to maintain his beautiful physique, true. But he also does it to let off steam...Billy does nothing but lift weights to vent an enormous anger that he is holding back. He smiled sweetly at you "Good darling, don't worry. Training doesn't hurt me" with this the boy winked at you and moved a lock of hair from his face and then placed his palm on your cheek "And what about you? How is my girl?" He smiled one of his own and you couldn't help but giggle, he loved teasing you with these silly nicknames and you couldn't help but blush and flatter yourself.

"Very good, today I received my pay at work and I got an excellent grade in biology!" You said as you ran a hand down his chest. "But didn't you hate biology?" He said as he invited you to sit on his bed. His room was tidier than you remembered it from two years ago. Billy was messy, and let's say he put his things in plain sight, thank goodness that since he got engaged to you he started hiding inappropriate things to make you feel at ease.

You sat on his bed with your back against the beige wall of his room, he stood next to you.

"Yes, it's true, but I wanted to improve myself, I have to be good in all subjects to improve my future" You said taking his hand "Aren't you tired of all that studying?" Billy said taking a cigarette and placing it between his thin lips "To be honest yes, I really fucking can't stand the thought of opening another literature book or something" You laughed at the idea. Despite being a studious girl, you have never loved studying. So many things, so many poems, so many equations and bullshit like that, in short, enough! Too much! "But, you know, I'm doing it to do better in the future, so I'll have more job opportunities" Billy let out smoke from his mouth and you smelled the smell of tobacco in your nostrils "What would you like to do in the future? In short, it seems that you already know what you want to do with your life, sweet girl" he said looking at a fixed point "Actually, no, I don't know, there are many things and I couldn't decide" He seemed surprised by your answer but then it took him a while to answer you.

"Well there aren't many things you can find here in this shitty town, God, I wish I could get out of here" He finally said almost whispering as more smoke spread into the room. This statement of his made you think...

You never really thought about staying in Hawkins, the city, as welcoming as it was, was also a bad place that you really wanted to escape from, you don't like the people, much less the mayor who runs it. Thinking of wanting to move to have other opportunities and change your life seemed like an impossible dream. You looked at Billy and you looked at him "I share your thoughts, if it were up to me I would leave here too, maybe to New York, or I don't know, to Boston, there are many places outside of here where I would like to spend my life. Instead you Billy, where would you go?" He looked back at his fixed point in front of him. He remained silent for a while and then answered you with a smile "California...I would like to go back there" he said it with a note of sadness and your heart melted. You knew how much he wanted to return to California, after all it was one of the most beautiful places for him, because of his precious memories with his mother.

“Maybe then we would go together…” You said resting your head on his shoulder feeling his sweaty skin “Together?” He seemed paralyzed by your proposal and you nodded “That's impossible darling…” he gave a light chuckle but his tone didn't seem joking, it was as if he wished that proposal had come true. "Why do you think it's impossible?" He shook your hand as he placed his cigarette in the nearby ashtray "Because that's how it is. Look at us, I work as a lifeguard and earn little anyway, you on the other hand are still studying, moreover my father wouldn't allow me to go back to California, he says that he hates it and that neither Max nor I should go back, and also because he wouldn't approve of me going with you" True. He wasn't wrong and this made you stay silent for several minutes thinking about how to find a solution.

You knew it was absurd, in short, Billy was now an adult, if he wanted to leave and move somewhere else it wasn't his father's business, but by now the man seemed to have taken control of his life too and this had taken you by surprise. . The father wanted Billy, like Max, to stay close to them so as not to worry Susan, who unlike the man was worried about the two and certainly knowing that one of the two was too far away worried her, so much so that she asked her husband to order both him and Max to stay in Hawkins in the future. But that didn't mean you would have given up.

"You know, in California there are many chances of finding a job and someone like yours earns well there. Then if I managed to graduate here I could very well walk away with the money I earn from part-time work" He smiled "You planned the your life plan?" You looked at him with a grin "our life plan, you are part of my life, Billy" she immediately smiled so much that he blushed but shook his head "No. With me your future will only be turbulent and then as I said before, it's impossible"

"Nothing is impossible Billy. Together if we want we can do it, obviously if you want to do it" you raised your head and he took a deep breath and kissed you. You laughed in the sweet kiss "Of course I want" You smiled again "Only, my father worries me"

“Don't worry about him, I actually already have an idea for this” you smirked evilly as you stroked his golden locks. Billy looked at you for a while to then understand what was going on in your little head "My smart girl" He said as he approached hungry for another kiss, you laughed "Have I always been or am I wrong?" You both gave each other more kisses.

Exactly two more years passed. It was a rainy night. Midnight. The streets of Hawkins were deserted as the rain got heavier and heavier. A wonderful night, especially for the two of you. You had recently graduated and had saved money, and Billy had done the same thing with the little he earned.

You headed towards the boy's window only to see him land on the ground and take out his bags trying to make as little noise as possible. You on the other hand, had brought yours too and helped Billy by trying not to get him and his bags wet thanks to your umbrella. You gave each other a kiss while the adrenaline was rising. It was the big day and you were as anxious as you were excited. You both headed to the boy's car putting down your bags and stuff and got into the car.

“Are you sure Y/N?” He said holding the steering wheel tightly, you nodded "Yes, remember that together we can do it" you reassured him and he nodded happily. He seemed reborn, new and fresh, a different person. He was about to leave that old life full of suffering to start a new one with the love of his life, you and for you he would also trigger his father's wrath. In the meantime you took a cigarette and started lighting it with the lighter "Ok, together forever, darling" he told you and then put on his sunglasses, you laughed since the sun wasn't out, but he was ready to leave and to adjust to the place “California, we are coming” You said in a confident tone as smoke spread through the car.

[maidragoste]

Mistake

Age up!Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader (Daeron's twin sister)

Summary: Your encounter with Jacaerys has consequences and now you are pregnant with his bastard in the middle of the war.

Part two of “I miss you”

A/N: Honestly Jacaerys doesn't appear in this but I promise he will in the next part. The next part will probably be the last and I'll try not to take as long as it takes to post this one (I had most of these written months ago but every time I had to continue writing it made me sad for Reader). Finally, I hope you like it 🥰🥰���💞

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

At first, you didn't find it strange when your moon blood didn't come. The truth has never been regular. It had happened to you before that it didn't come for a month and the other it did, that's why you didn't worry. But when another moon passed and your sheets were still clean, you began to fear that you were pregnant. Your fears were confirmed when you started having nausea and vomiting in the mornings. You didn't even have time to come up with a plan because your servants went to tell your mother about your condition and she soon appeared in your chambers with the maester.

"Princess, you are pregnant" the maestre confirmed what you already knew.

"Is there no chance of getting rid of the child?" Alicent asked, taking you by surprise.

"Mother!" you screamed in horror and with tears in your eyes. You knew your mother would be furious but it never occurred to you that she would force you to get rid of the baby.

"I'm afraid, your grace, that if we give her the moon tea there is a chance that the princess will not be able to have children in the future."

"Thank you, master. You may retire,” Alicent said and the man gave you a pitying look before leaving.

Once they were alone, you got on your knees and took your mother's hands "Sorry, mother" you apologized through tears, it hurt to see the disappointment on her face, she had never looked at you like that before "Sorry. Sorry, sorry ”you repeated trembling and kissed her hands. You expected some comfort, a caress on the cheek, or even a touch on the hair but nothing. She just kept looking at you. You would have always been the apple of her eye along with Helaena but now you were trouble.

You apologized for letting her down, and for failing her and your brother. You knew that you were an important piece in the war, you were a dragon rider and with your hand, they could win the support of some important house but now no one would marry you while you were pregnant nor could you go to fight in your condition. You apologized because you knew that if you could go back in time you would sleep with Jacaerys again, you were selfish, you loved him.

"Mother, please say something" you begged, unable to bear her silence anymore.

Alicent released her grip and moved away from you. You bit your lip to keep from letting out a sob. You weren't used to cold treatment from your mother. But for now, it would be the only thing you would receive. For a moment you thought about your father, how he would react if he were alive, he would probably be furious too but you thought that the moment he saw you cry he would take you in his arms and tell you that everything would be fine. He would surely have broken Baela and Jacaerys' engagement so that Jace would marry you.

"You will stay in your chambers until further notice" your mother informed you, taking you out of your imagination, and she left your chambers without bothering to look at you again.

Once you were alone you burst into tears and hugged yourself. You didn't know how long you had been crying, you felt that your throat was burning and your knees were starting to hurt so you should get up or the pain would be but you didn't care. You just wanted someone by your side, you didn't want to be alone, so when you heard the door open you couldn't help but look hopeful. They were your brothers. But you felt your heart drop at the sight of Aemond. In his eye, there was nothing but fury.

"He forced you? Did he force himself on you?" asked the prince taking you by the jaw. You shook your head while the tears came out non-stop from your eyes "Tell me!" you sobbed as he increased his strength.

"I slept with Jacaerys because I wanted to" you confessed between trembling and closing your eyes to avoid seeing your brother's face. You were scared, for the first time you had Aemond do something to you. He had never acted like this with you before, you always witnessed how another was the victim of his anger but this time you were the one who disappointed him.

"Aemond, let her go" you heard your older brother's voice "She's scared"

You felt like years passed until you felt Aemond loosen his grip on her "It's okay, sister" he kissed your forehead and stood up "The bastard will pay for bringing you this disgrace"

"Aemond, what will you do?" You asked scared and wanting to follow him but Aegon took you in his arms "Aemond!" you screamed with a broken voice when you saw him leave the room.

"Don't worry, sister" said the king while you cried and clung to him "Everything will be fine, I'm going to legitimize your son"

••••••

The following months were hell for you. You never left your room. Your family did not want anyone at court to know about your condition, much less for the news to reach the Blacks. So they kept you locked in your rooms, and the only company you had were the maids but they weren't great company because they barely entered your room just to feed you and also never spoke to you, they couldn't since none of them had a tongue. Your sanity hung by a thread, exactly on the maester's visits. He was the only person you could talk to, you knew that the old man felt sorry for you because sometimes he extended the visits just so that you could talk to someone. For a while Aegon had also come to visit you, he always consoled you and distracted you, he told you some story about his drunkenness or about some gossip that you had. It didn't matter how many times you asked him about what was happening with your family, the war and Jacaerys but he never answered you. You were afraid that your questions made him angry because one day he stopped showing up.

Sometimes you prayed that your baby would look like Jacaerys because you missed him so much and longed to see his eyes again. But other times you prayed to the gods that the baby would look like you, maybe if your child is born with your hair and Targaryen eyes then your family will forgive you and let you go. For that reason, you were anxious to give birth again but at the same time, you were afraid. You were afraid of doing this alone without Jacaerys, you were afraid that something would go wrong and you would never have had a chance to say goodbye to your lover. You were afraid of dying and leaving your child alone, you didn't know what your family would do with your baby, they could kill it and Jacaerys would never know that you two had a child.

Most nights you dreamed of Jacaerys and your son. You dreamed of an excited Jace choosing a dragon egg to put in front of her son's cradle. You dreamed of Jace singing to the baby to calm him down. You dreamed of him introducing Vermax to the baby. You dreamed of the first flight of the three together. You dreamed of Jace trying to teach his son how to say “kepa” and “muña” even though his High Valyrian is terrible. You wished more than anything that one of those dreams would come true one day. But after being locked up for months you didn't think it would ever happen. If you survive the birth, you would have to raise your child alone within the four walls of your chambers. That if your family allows you after all for them your baby is a mistake.

taglist: @pictureofcaroline @sidneyyyya @minaxcarter @targaryenmoony @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @lizlovecraft @natashaobo @krokietino @nyenye @savagemickey03 @missusnora @sabi127 @buckysmainhxe @impartinghades @papichulo120627 @bxdbxtxh15 @rebelliuna @fluffiy @lauufeysonnn @thanya-targaryen @nzygftoji @camy85 @misty-q @bellstwd @

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

The cold truth

Artful Dodger one shot. Jack Dawkins x fem reader

Before Fagin's return, before Belle, before it all there was y/n. The first woman to break Jack's heart. He kept her portrait in a silver locket, the chain hanging on his bed. One day, long after her operation Belle sits in the hospital going over medical text when Hetty comes into her. Seeing the locket in Belle's hand she tells her the story.

"She was a lovely girl, a nurse here. Odd though because she was married. So many of us live a solitary life but not y/n. She was such a wonderful spirit. I'm convinced she could make the dead dance with her joy. None of us could have known. Jack was the first to notice the changes, they were so small at first. Y/n had always had the most beautiful red hair, it was so thick she could hardly contain it and would have it tied several plates pinned about her head. I remember Jack coming to me one morning, the spirals were gone. It was all chopped off up to her shoulders. Y/n wouldn't tell us what happened.

Then it was the bruises. Poking out of her dress on her neck, her arms you know. She just kept saying she was clumsy, but we spent hours with her and none of us ever saw her even trip. Jack tries to ask her once but she brushed him off.

I don't know if it was her original joy or the subsequent lack of it, but the doctor seemed fixated on her. He needed to know what was happening.

One time he bumped into her, knocking her ribs and the touch sent y/n to the floor. Shocked by the reaction Jack took her aside and checked her over. Y/n had a bruise that covered her whole left side. Angry and red, purple, blue. Still she wouldn't tell us a thing. Jack took it upon himself to look after her. Noting that she would often work a whole day without a bite of food he began making extra lunch and sitting with her.

He would talk about her when she wasn't around. Retelling her jokes and talking of her beauty.

Of course we know now that it was her husband. He cut her hair off with an axe. Said she was too vain about her appearance and a nurse didn't need long hair. The beatings were worse. He would attack her for any little mistakes. Her ribs? That was because she had burnt dinner one night. He was an awful man. We only found out because Jack found her wandering the streets on his way home for the cat and bagpipes. He had kicked her out of their house. I don't remember what for, but Jack found her and he took care of her. By then the only time I saw her happy was when they were sat together. She told him everything and he promised to help her. Said she could have a bed in our nurses quarters. She even appeared happy for a while, the two of em did.

A week or so later she went home to collect her things, convinced her husband would be at work. He wasn't.

She managed to get back here. I'll never know how she made it. One broken leg, a fractured elbow and a knife in her gut. She did though, she came stumbling in. I think I screamed when I saw her. Jack rushed her into the theatre, but this was about a year before you came along. There was nothing he could do with the knife wound. That damn blade was wide enough to take down an elephant. Ripped her up so badly inside. She couldn't breathe and the blood was pouring into her lungs.

Jack tried and tried until she asked him to stop. Exhausted and covered in her blood, Jack was ready to collapse himself. She held tight to his hand and looked into his eyes.

"No, no y/n, you gotta fight this. You can't die." Jack begged her.

"Jack, I have to go. I'm sorry. You can't save me." Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. Jack held on to her. I had hoped his will alone might make God knit her back together. My faith took a knock that day and I'm not afraid to admit it. The look on that boys face when they insisted on taking her away. Tim had to hold him to keep Jack from following her body to the grave.

We all changed after that day. The first time one of our own bad died so brutally. Jack wasn't the same. He threw himself into his work, his competition with Sneed.

You know there are times when he still visits her grave. Maybe that's why he was so desperate to save you, Lady Belle. Jack's poor heart couldn't take another love being ripped away from him. It's a lovely portrait of her. " She finishes by glancing over Belle's shoulder at the lockett.

"he's in prison, so you think, do you think you could take me to her grave?" Belle asks.

It's a small wooden cross with her name carved into it.

"we couldn't afford a real headstone. " Hetty explains. Belle bent to touch the wood, running her fingers over the carved wood.

"What happened to the husband?"

"Got himself hanged for his troubles three weeks after. It took three hours for him to die. Come on now miss we should get you back before you're missed." Hetty reminded her.

"of course. I shall bring y/n flowers tomorrow."

"very good Milady "

[iwillnotdieamonster]

"This is a beautiful letter from Fiona Apple explaining to her fans why she must postpone a concert date. I am impressed at the way she was instantly able to make the decision to choose love over her career. Indeed, the world needs more of this.

It's 6pm on Friday, and I'm writing to a few thousand friends I have not met yet. I'm writing to ask them to change our plans and meet a little while later.

Here's the thing.

I have a dog, Janet, and she's been ill for about 2 years now, as a tumor has been idling in her chest, growing ever so slowly. She's almost 14 years old now. I got her when she was 4 months old. I was 21 then — an adult, officially — and she was my kid.

She is a pitbull, and was found in Echo Park, with a rope around her neck, and bites all over her ears and face.

She was the one the dogfighters use to puff up the confidence of the contenders.

She's almost 14 and I've never seen her start a fight, or bite, or even growl, so I can understand why they chose her for that awful role. She's a pacifist.

Janet has been the most consistent relationship of my adult life, and that is just a fact. We've lived in numerous houses, and joined a few makeshift families, but it's always really been just the two of us.

She slept in bed with me, her head on the pillow, and she accepted my hysterical, tearful face into her chest, with her paws around me, every time I was heartbroken, or spirit-broken, or just lost, and as years went by, she let me take the role of her child, as I fell asleep, with her chin resting above my head.

She was under the piano when I wrote songs, barked any time I tried to record anything, and she was in the studio with me, all the time we recorded the last album.

The last time I came back from tour, she was spry as ever, and she's used to me being gone for a few weeks, every 6 or 7 years.

She has Addison's Disease, which makes it more dangerous for her to travel, since she needs regular injections of Cortisol, because she reacts to stress and excitement without the physiological tools which keep most of us from literally panicking to death.

Despite all this, she's effortlessly joyful & playful, and only stopped acting like a puppy about 3 years ago. She is my best friend, and my mother, and my daughter, my benefactor, and she's the one who taught me what love is.

I can't come to South America. Not now. When I got back from the last leg of the US tour, there was a big, big difference.

She doesn't even want to go for walks anymore.

I know that she's not sad about aging or dying. Animals have a survival instinct, but a sense of mortality and vanity, they do not. That's why they are so much more present than people.

But I know she is coming close to the time where she will stop being a dog, and start instead to be part of everything. She'll be in the wind, and in the soil, and the snow, and in me, wherever I go.

I just can't leave her now, please understand. If I go away again, I'm afraid she'll die and I won't have the honor of singing her to sleep, of escorting her out.

Sometimes it takes me 20 minutes just to decide what socks to wear to bed.

But this decision is instant.

These are the choices we make, which define us. I will not be the woman who puts her career ahead of love & friendship.

I am the woman who stays home, baking Tilapia for my dearest, oldest friend. And helps her be comfortable & comforted & safe & important.

Many of us these days, we dread the death of a loved one. It is the ugly truth of Life that keeps us feeling terrified & alone. I wish we could also appreciate the time that lies right beside the end of time. I know that I will feel the most overwhelming knowledge of her, and of her life and of my love for her, in the last moments.

I need to do my damnedest, to be there for that.

Because it will be the most beautiful, the most intense, the most enriching experience of life I've ever known.

When she dies.

So I am staying home, and I am listening to her snore and wheeze, and I am revelling in the swampiest, most awful breath that ever emanated from an angel. And I'm asking for your blessing.

I'll be seeing you.

Love,

Fiona"

Credit goes to the respective owners.

[strange-anni]

Swapping places: Mike and Will

Part 2: Mike Wheeler

Read Part 1: Will Byers here

We have never been given as much inside into Mikes mind as we have with Will so this part will be a lot shorter than the first on. There is still some ground to cover though, so let's get started.

If Vecna or Vecman as Robin mistakenly calls him here holds the core of Wills deeply buried memories, there has to be something similar for Mike as well. I'm not sure if Mike remembers at all what happened to him or if he only has a vague sense that something isn't right. Or if his memories are as deeply buried as Wills and only appear like vivid images from a dream he can't shake off but there is one thing Mike is very sure of.

There can only be one Venkman and that's Mike!

The concept of two people existing at the same time who might hold the same role even if it's just a costume or a fictional character is not a thing Mike agrees with. There can only be one Venkman because there is only one Venkman in real life. Venkman could never be anyone else but him. Not Lucas or anyone else.

It's also very interesting to me that it's Will who brings up the concept of the two Venkman who could co-exist together. Will seems to be the one who is okay with it but Mike isn't. This indicates that Mike is trying to hold on to his identity and is not yet ready to face the truth.

However there is also the fact that when Will really needed Mike in S2 he was ready to help to bring Will home into his own basement. Mike's home which is apparently also Wills home. We see this contrasted with Jonathan who in the same season also brings Nancy home but to her own home and not to the Byers house where he lives.

Mike does the opposite and gets Will home into his basement. This could indicate a number of things and I would not put it past Mike to have picked up on the fact that Will has more reasons to be at ease in the Wheelers house than in his own home at the Byers house even if he doesn't know the reason why. Will who at home constantly had to be on the lookout for Lonnie would not feel safe there and feel a lot safer at the Wheelers simply because there is no Lonnie.

Yet there could still be more to it. Like Mike feeling that this place and this home belong to Will just as much if not more (Mike is very insecure) than to him. For it has originally been Will that lived there and not Mike so Mike get's Will home to a place he belongs.

This speech from Mike in the van is not about El. It's about Will.

Like Will does just a few moments later in the same scene I think Mike is also using El as a shield to convey his own feelings to Will and it talks volumes of how he really feels.

He's contrasting himself with another person who was born special unlike him and assumes that he may be the first person to realize that. Mike though wasn't the first person to realize El was special. There were a multitude of people before him like Brenner and the lab people, Owens and the ones who El is currently with who realized it way before he did and Mike knows this. They are currently on their way to rescue her from these people, so why would he word it like that?

It's not about El but Will instead. It's Will who was born special and Mike was one of the first people to realize that back when they were still five years old. He's insecure because he's afraid that Will might one day no longer need him once he realizes who Mike thinks he really is. Just some random person. Just some random person who met Will by pure chance when he needed someone. I'll come back to that in a bit because we have already seen what this is about.

It's after that that Mike suddenly seems to change topics because now it is no longer about Will but him instead. It's Mike who after that moment got lucky that Superman landed on his doorstep and saved him.

Lucky. Being there by pure chance. Coincidence. Mike is completely discarding all the small and big choices both of them made along the way which really got them together and made them fall in love with each other. He's reducing it all to pure chance which it is not although it did play a role in how they first met.

These are two people who are said to be explorers. Holly wo is a Wheeler and then there is Henry who is also 001 and Wills persecutor alter. Both saw something they should not have seen. Holly saw the Demogorgon, the representation of Lonnie in the wall and Henry found out the secrets of the parents.

Maybe Superman came to Mikes doorstep, explored a little too much and then saw what what his father Lonnie was about to do and couldn't bear to see Mike get hurt like that so he swapped their places. He became the Will we know him to be and Mike became the Mike we know him to be. This also means that for the next few years it was Will who had to endure all the ab*se Lonnie inflicted on him. Ab*se Mike would have suffered if it wasn't for this one moment of chance that got them together.

So now he's afraid he'll lose Will when he realizes what happened and might come to the conclusion that Mike wasn't worth all of what Will did for him and to an extent he's right. Henry is full of hatred for them both and resents them for having to endure all of the pain he had to go through because they swapped places. If this hadn't happened, Will would still be Wheeler after all.

Yet Henry is not Will. He's only part of Will and part of the reason why he is so full of hatred is because he's been alone with all this pain he had to absorb for so long that it twisted his mind. Will will have to face Henry and come face to face with this truth as well and then he'll realize that in the end, he still loves Mike even if there was a part of him that resented Mike for what happened. That's what Will is all about. He doesn't want to let the bad guys win but for that he needs to face his darker side as well and then overcome it.

What happened wasn't Mikes fault and it wasn't Wills fault either. There is no one to blame but Lonnie.

Mike will have to realize this too. For him it's his fear of losing Will and his own insecurities he needs to face. He needs to realize that Will did what he did because he wanted to. It's a decision Will for the most part doesn't regret and would probably do all over again if he had too. Most of all though Mike needs to understand that to Will he was in fact worth it.

Then they'll be ready to deal with the past, face their trauma and the lives they've lived prior to 1976. They'll be able to set things right.

This is the moment when Mike - that random person - was there for Will when he needed him. On on random lucky day on his first day of kindergarten he met Will on a swing and then made the decision to ask if he wanted to be his friend because they were both alone. It was a decision he's never regretted. In fact he believes it to be the best thing he's ever done.

It's a real memory from way back before they swapped places I think. As to why Will was alone or why he needed someone in that moment I have no idea. But Mike was there and it changed both their lives forever.

[msookyspooky]

Fours a Franchise

Part 19

Wordcount: 6,978

A male cop sat by your bedside that afternoon.

Asking you as much as he could while Judy and him took turns writing things and asking things as well. “Those men, who were they?” 

“Hard to say.” You replied as calmly as you could. You were a horrible liar according to everyone but you tried your best to dance around the truth. Sweating bullets and being able to thankfully blame it on sepsis and medication.

“What about that night?” The cop asked as Judy wrote things down.

“They just showed up… Do we have to ask all this right now?” You coughed out sickly. You felt like absolute death.

“I'm afraid we do, Miss YN... Did you know them?...Witnesses  say you called someone.” 

“Jill is the only one alive. Just say Jill.” You mumbled in agitation. Oh you wanted so badly to unravel her lie that she was SUPPOSED to be hiding under a bed and you were on the roof on the other side of the house fighting Ghostface when you called Stu. She was a fucking liar but you had to bite your tongue. You both had a deal here.

“No, of course not. Who I called wasn't those guys if that's what you're implying...I was calling numbers on my phone for help and accidentally called a distant friend I barely ever see. I meant to call Dewey and accidentally called him. He probably thought I was pranking him or something. Ghostface attacked me after that I dropped my phone in the yard and fell off the roof.” You shrugged. Trying not to look at the cop and keeping a poker face with the truth with sprinkles of lies in it. 

The officer wrote things down, “Did those two men take you against your will from this hospital?” 

“Yes.” You firmly stated and looked back at him. Not a lie. They did drag you out. That was God's honest truth that you wish they wouldn't have done but also what choices did you all have left?

“Their description?” 

You tried to ponder, truthfully having to remember what Jill even said. She rushed it out while threatening you in a half delirious fever type of state. “I um…They uh didn't let me look at them too much…”

“Elaborate for us. Why wouldn't you look at your captors?” He sternly demanded

You softly raised your hand trying to find the words and swiped a hand motion over your eye. Getting nervous he might be unraveling you already. 

“You mean blindfolded? Threatened you?” 

“B-Blindfold. Yeah, they blindfolded me once in the car.” What a lie but a good one to save yourself. You didn't know if you could lie that well so try as you.might you gave a half truth. “I passed out most of the car ride, anyways. I didn't see where they took me like roads and everything. And um…And once at the house, I wasn't around them much and they didn't let me see them with being uh…Blindfolded and tied. I was way too weak to even try escaping…” You swallowed. 

“Too weak?” 

“Yeah. Too scared. Too sick. Too injured. I really was out of it and a sitting duck as a hostage.” You gave with a tight voice. God, you might puke again. 

You yelled internally, ‘Damn it, YN. Pull it together. Tell some damn useful fake info!’ Especially now that the cop eyed you, pausing in their writing to analyze you. 

You continued, “But um I did see them a few times and at Kirby's of course…One had red hair I think and far apart teeth and eyes. Tall… The other with dark hair had a hook nose and tan skin…Um…The tall one had a tattoo of something on his shoulder. Uh…Right. Yeah, his right shoulder. He… ” You debated but just went for it. “They reminded me of that Tim and James guy from Windsor years back. Just older and different.”

“So you think these men are the same ones from the 98 incident in Ohio??” Judy asked instead and looked intrigued at the revelation.

It was risky. It could link Billy and Stu to Tim and James like you tried 13 years ago…But it could also get them away from the Tim and James image and send police on a wild goose chase for a while.

You sighed, “The one's never found or proven? I can't say..Maybe? I was in too much shock. It all happened fast and I was on anesthesia once at the hospital and…” You sighed more begrudgingly this time. “This time; I was too focused on protecting Jill at the house than to get details on who those men were but they did remind me of them. I just know that the one definitely had a tattoo and the other had a hooked nose and gree- no, blue. Yeah, blue eyes.” You swallowed down the lies just spewing from you to save your ass while you felt your back sweating and soaking your hospital gown.

“What was it? The tattoo?” 

Oh shit…Shit! Damn, what did that little murdering cretin say it was? Oh no…Think think-

You gave a tight uncomfortable smile and shook your head, “A Phoenix or Dragon or something? I don't remember.” Well the not remembering part was true. 

“And if we reviewed cameras; would it match your story of being dragged out?” 

You ALMOST felt a coughing fit happen at how dry your mouth was…But ICU had no cameras in the room, you remembered that much. Only the hallway.

Judy wrote all this down and nodded to herself. Hopefully that was good…

“Yes…I was dragged out against my will.” 

———————————

Gale listened beside Dewey as they stayed out of the room but within ear shot as he was still technically on the case as Sheriff till he fully turned his badge in. Dewey seemed like he didn't want to see you, didn't want to be near you, didn't want anything to do with you, especially the more you spoke. 

After the officer left your hospital room with Judy in tow, Gale went in despite Dewey trying to get her not to. It seemed she wasn't even worrying about Judy, just enraged at your lies. Dewey was trying to grab her arm but she barged in anyways once you 3 were alone.

You laid there still sicker than a dog but feeling more aware with the right treatment each hour. You gazed over at the woman you once tried so hard to see as a friend even after everything she had done over a decade ago. Look where it got you?

“What are you doing?” Gale demanded with a stern hiss. “What are you playing at? We all saw them and you know who they were. Shit, you protected them! You protected them from Dewey!” 

You said nothing…Glancing over at Dewey in the doorway who wouldn't look at you. A frown and tense look on his face as he folded his arms.

“Listen, YN. I know now. Okay? I do. I should have listened; I believe you. I know Jill Roberts was one of the Ghostface's and she helped Charlie. If you help me; we can lock her up. Randy and all the other victims can get justice.” 

Your eyes widened with a tiny glimmer of hope in you but you shoved it down and knew better. Gale could just be baiting you. Getting you to admit just to lock you up too. And besides…It was too late for that. They shoved you aside, damned you, and protected Jill. There was no turn from that. They could have killed Jill when she showed how she was the potential killer or at least arrested her and kill or fight Billy and Stu afterwards…You didn't know if you would've fought for Billy and Stu as much had Jill been dead but you'd be damned if Jill lived and your only support in Billy and Stu died because of Dewey and Gale. That hope was dead.

Gale stared at you as you were silent. She urged you, “Please just give a correct goddamn statement. Even just to us. I swear, if you tell us the truth, we'll get her…Damn it, do it for Randy. Wasn't he your friend?” 

You stared at her long and hard. “...Because you're so trustworthy after everything you've done?” You mumbled then stayed silent. Anything you said could and would be used against you with cops or the media…Especially Dewey and Gale now. 

“Hmph. So that's how it is, huh? You're gonna betray everyone to hide those two and to keep your own ass safe? Using Selfish Bitch." Gale spat not even whispering now.

Apparently you were a bad liar and a using bitch to everyone lately.

You just looked away wishing she would just leave. “...I told you that night.” You croaked out. “I told you and look what you did. What both of you did…I told you 15 years ago and then 13 years ago…” You shook your head to yourself. “And from a decade onward I've had to rely on myself…You both did this decades ago and now you're trying to blame me?”

Gale perked up and Dewey spared a glance.

You continued in a low mumble, “...I never helped Billy and Stu in 1996. I meant every bit of that. I swear on my life, I never helped them kill my friend's and tried to get them caught for it.” You told the whole truth but carefully in case Gale had a wire. “And you tried taking me to court to be tried as an accomplice for murder over a delay and possibly altered tape. A serious crime with decades of prison time had it worked and you expect me to trust telling you anything? Fuck you.” 

Dewey subtly eyed you. Frowning deeply at ‘friend's’ knowing that meant Tatum too. Yet he seemed like he couldn't even bring himself to truly look at you let alone talk to you. Gale's eye twitched at you dishing the fact of what she tried to pull years ago.

“...Fine.” Gale shrugged mockingly. “Fine, you weren't involved then but you know they're alive. You knew all this time and you hid it…Why? Why did you hide it? Why did you buck me so much at Windsor? Whether we had bad blood or not; we both agreed. We both know who Tim and James are and the first description is accurate. Not this shit you're selling. We both saw them at Windsor, we both saw them a few nights ago in ICU and they do not have a hooked nose and blue eyes and red hair and a fucking tattoo. Why did you hide them in Hollywood? Why are you hiding them now? WHY?” She pleaded urgently with a frown.

You blinked at that but kept your lips sealed.

“Dewey has the pictures of you with them in a motel. Twice.” She threatened through gritted teeth. “I didn't see a fucking hooked nose. I didn't see red hair. I see a damn liar meeting up with two murderers…And they look like grown up Billy Loomis and Stu Macher.” 

Ah…That's right. Randy seemed to mention something or maybe it was Dewey? It was hard to tell in the chaos. Regardless, you didn't care if it was clear as day…You were gonna deny it. You had nothing left to lose but your life and freedom and you weren't talking.

Gale seemed to be losing her patience with your tight lip routine. “Aren't you gonna talk? Why are you lying? Why are you giving false descriptions of them when those aren't the pictures you described at college? Andrews and Richard's description matched too…What happened to that scar on James aka Billy's cheek, hm? The one you insisted on at Windsor. Same side you cut Billy with shears the night before he supposedly roped you in against your will. He had gauze on his cheek at the party from you and he still has that scar. In fact, I saw it here at this hospital.  Why leave out that important identifier?...If we found this guy you had relations with or whoever else is on your phone; would he have a scar, YN?” She growled out through her teeth.

“13 years ago…I was under stress and projecting my trauma. I saw what I wanted to see and I think Randy did too. I was in a bad place mentally. But now that I'm more aware and better?” You stared at her long and hard. Lying but this was an easy lie to retell because it was a lie people already labeled you with. “...I just don't remember a scar now-”

“Stop lying!” Gale scoffed loudly, “How can you live with yourself knowing two murderers are free all because of you!? How can you lie to us all these years? In fact, if I was more shocked I'd return the favor and hit you like you did me back in the day; but I'm not that shocked. I always knew you were a liar, I just couldn't prove it. You probably did work with them in 96, right? You're just trying to make it look good, right?...Huh? Are you secretly happy that everyone is dead?” 

You just took it. Numbly gazing at her. Anything you said would be against you. Gale was baiting you to talk and you weren't falling for it. They could claim they had evidence and you still wouldn't speak. 

“You aren't even gonna defend yourself?” Gale demanded. “We could go through your phone, you know. We can see who called. Who you texted. Pictures. I can dig deep. I can find evidence at your house. I can ask around.”

You sighed and just shrugged. All while holding her gaze as you laid in that hospital bed. You felt like you had done this too many times and honestly? You were damn tired. If you did go to prison…So what? This shit was getting way too old for you. Might as well try lying and playing stupid and see if it's as easy as these Ghostface's act like it is.

She grumbled out, “You fucking -” 

“Gale.” Dewey's voice rang out in a low tone. “Leave her alone…She clearly won't talk. We're wasting our time.” 

You frowned deeply wanting desperately to talk to him, more than Gale, to explain…But you knew that was a wasted effort. He wouldn't listen. Hell, he could be bugged; not the same Dewey you knew. So you kept quiet as Gale stormed out before turning back to you and marching back to your bedside to get her final say. 

She returned to get the final word. “You know, I'm a tough cookie. I can handle my maid of honor at my wedding betraying me. I can handle you being a fucking liar…But I can't handle you hurting my husband. He's done nothing but be heartbroken and who can blame him? A woman he looked at like a little sister knew the guys that killed his actual sister; that they were both alive! All while she lied to his face for 15 years!” She spat out, looking almost ready to hit you.

“Gale!” Dewey ordered in a shaky way that just didn't even sound like him. “That's enough. Let's go.” 

You knew your face was failing you. The one ‘Woodsboro Family’ you had left thought you killed Tatum or at least Randy. And at best; he thought, no, he knew you hid his sisters' murderers from him for years.

You swallowed to get the lump down in your throat. Your chest ached as you looked at Dewey and you both locked eyes for a moment and you saw a cold look. Hurt and hate in his eyes you never thought would ever be directed at you as he and Gale left you alone in that hospital room.

“Dewey.” You mumbled to Dewey. “…Where's the Dewey I knew in Hollywood that nabbed my files for me to help me?…Or who read all my book just because I wrote it and found it inspiring?…And now you won't even talk to me alone and hear me out?” You tearly gave in to his revenge and anger and bitterness making him a totally different man. Like seeing Billy and Stu made him spiral and you know it was the cherry on top. “I'm still sorry, Dewey.” 

Leaving you feeling more alone than ever before. Such a stark contrast from him 15 years ago hugging you and crying in your arms at the hospital and defending you…To being the one accusing you and staying away.

Dewey stared at you. His mouth twitched in a tight frown before he left you alone.

———————————

Gale listened as the officer interviewed Jill and her mouth hung open as Jill gave the exact description of the two that you did…It was a lie! It was impossible!

As Judy wrapped it up, Gale all but grabbed her. “This isn't right! Damn it, aren't you trained in observation? Didn't you see the guy that shot you!?” 

“Get your hands off of an Officer, Gale.” Judy ripped her arm away defensively, “I didn't get a good look at him because he shot me after he hit me in the head but he was tall with far apart eyes-” 

“And the hair? Was it dark blonde or red?” 

Judy pondered, “Blondish?…No, Red. Strawberry Blonde-” 

“No!” Gale grumbled at her memory being tainted by Jill and you. “Look at the cameras! Me and Dewey can give an exact description.” 

Judy sighed, “And I believe that of Dewey.” Gale's eyes narrowed at the favoritism as Judy continued, “But we have two witnesses that claim differently and they match up even when interviewing them separately and being away from each other for days. And the cameras only show certain angles that match! We didn't see faces up close and the footage isn't in color.” 

“Why the hell not!?” 

“It's a small old hospital!” Judy exclaimed and shrugged dramatically. “And I'd rather discuss this with Sheriff Riley alone, Gale.” 

Dewey's shoulders were tense as Gale rubbed her face and ignored the blonde's last statement.

Gale mumbled to herself, “I don't understand... How does Jill go from wanting YN dead and claiming she's involved to claiming she was… What? Just scared and misunderstood the situation? And how did they both lie correctly? They had to have communicated together recently under our fucking noses. They had to!” Gale ranted as none of this went how she expected. 

Judy got out her notepad, “Do you want to give another statement? These guys…Sheriff Riley said Billy and Stu…He said in a past statement Jill told him that YN-” 

‘Oh Dewey…’ She thought to herself as she watched him walk away and gave him space. The man looked defeated. Like everything he knew turned out to be a lie.

Gale and Judy blinked hearing something be thrown in the bin nearby. Gale faltered seeing Dewey stalk off. “Sheriff?” Judy worriedly called out to him as Gale went to the trash bin. Picking up his hat with a tight frown. For her husband to do that? To something he was so proud of and his job? 

————————————

You took a stressful 2 days to ‘recover’. Everyday was you on edge and sicker than a dog, you swore your blood pressure was probably up and heart rate a permanent over 100 bpm. The police bothered you one more time for a description and you tried your best to lie about their appearance and you knew you were suspicious. Probably a shitty liar. Stressed and tense and nervous as Hell. But lucky for you, one thing was truthful; you did not know where they were or directions of where they took you. During the day, you were passed out. At night, you were feverish and it was dark. 

You were waiting for them to catch you in a lie. To search your phone. You hated that Billy and Stu stupidly sent you here with your phone on you. Probably not even thinking with you close to death. 

However, it didn't happen. Gale came to pressure you one more time with the photos Dewey had. And to your relief, yeah you COULD say they looked like Billy and Stu especially a decade ago but the most recent ones had them both pretty obscure while inside the motel on the outskirts of Woodsboro. In fact, you couldn't see them. Judy just took shitty pictures to report to Dewey. They had nothing. 

Of course, when she pressed the cops once she realized you wouldn't talk…They questioned.

“Who are those men and why were you meeting them?” 

You paled at Judy's urgent questioning on day 2 in a half of you in that hospital. You sighed…Damn Gale. Damn her.

"You mean the ones you followed me and took pictures of in secret? Stalking me?" I grumbled.

Judy remained aloof, "It was Sheriff Riley's orders to keep an eye on you at all times. Who were they?"

“...One is my mechanic and the other I met in Hollywood years ago…I met them for…” You groaned and was unable to make up something better. “We have…We needed each other.” You nervously coughed out.

Judy looked oblivious. “And what for?” 

Despite yourself you felt flustered because even as a lie; you didn't feel like claiming a booty call. “Um…Relations.” 

She blinked. 

You narrowed your eyes; dear lord how did she have a kid? 

“Sex.” 

Judy's eyes widened even buggier than usual. “Oh…OH!” She wrote something down. “You with…Both??” 

“Yes.” You forced out cheeks heating and a glare at the wall. “I have a well known name and I know how unconventional it is so they're a secret.” 

Judy cleared her throat and uncomfortably adjusted herself. “Well…Ms. YN. There's no room for secrets with a string of murders. Where are they?” 

“Don't know, we called it off.” 

“Oh really? And what were their names?” 

You shrugged, “Vincent and Den..Nis. Dennis.” 

Judy raised a brow. “Last names?” 

“Vincent never told me his last name.” 

“And you never asked??” Judy looked bewildered.

You blew air through clenched teeth, “Look it was never serious enough. Not everything is a Disney Romance, you know... Vincent is just a guy that works at some mechanic shop that I think is closed now and we have…Look we just have quick relations, okay?” You grumbled wanting to be anywhere but here. 

“And Dennis? You met him in Hollywood? During Stab? Could it be-” She gasped. “...The actor?! Rafkin?” 

You winced, “...Um…Maybe...Yes. He keeps a low profile probably out of the Country on Holiday.” Unable to get out of this one. 

“Do you have their numbers?” 

“Yes but I doubt they'd answer. We called it off.” You gazed over at her. “And they weren't involved. I promise I know my…-” You grimaced. “Guys and they were not the two guys involved in this.” 

Judy wrote things down. “You know we can get a warrant to look through your phone-” 

“You can now.” You swallowed hoping doing this might make you look more innocent.

You felt your palms sweating as she looked. Then raised a brow seeing ‘Vincent’ texts. “What's this?” 

“We spoke secretly because I did not want Randy and them to look down on me for my private life…We called in secret. I heard a noise and thought it was the killer and it wasn't. So he texted me frantically thinking something happened.” 

And that was the honest truth, actually…Hm. Maybe this lying thing wasn't too hard. Just tell what truth you could throughout the lies.

Judy nodded looking through your phone seeing you had called an ‘unknown’ number the night at Kirby's.

“That was Dennis. I meant to press Dewey's contact. I always kept his unknown because he was so…Embarrassed over being with someone like me.” You forced yourself to give as if a woman scorned.

She eyed you and you prayed she bought it. To your immense relief, she handed you the phone. “You deserve better. Especially if he's the same guy I heard you arguing with at Mr's Meeks' house in the backyard. I know how tough a situationship can be, believe it or not.” 

“Can't argue with that.” You sighed out in relief. 

“Well, for now, they're not suspects or witnesses. We aren't resting till we capture these guys that kidnapped you though. Murderers, kidnappers, one shot an officer and could've killed me…I swear, I'll never forget his face…I swear he looked familiar.” 

You forced a head nod but felt tension at that. That tension didn't leave even as she finally left. All it would take is watching a movie with Dennis and boom.

You heard Gale arguing with her down the hall and you rolled your eyes. You saw Judy warn Gale to back off of police business. Showing her badge for emphasis through the window.

Gale wasn't gonna stop. She just wasn't. And if she did? It would be a while. Years of watching your back, who you talked to, who you called, what you said.

You sighed and leaned back, closing your eyes in your elevated hospital bed. You couldn't go home fast enough. No more hustle and bustle, no more interviews, no more book signings, no more. You didn't care if you had to work remotely or a shitty normal job  if it meant peace. A nice domestically slow leisurely life. You were so damn eager after all this time and all this stress; so much grief fueling you to shut yourself away like you did a decade ago. Only this time no Randy or Dewey by your side. 

It was a little bit later that you turned on your tv while trying to stomach food of some sort…Every news station was you and Woodsboro and…Jill Roberts.

You declined every single interview not only to appease that little monster but because you just wanted to be done with the limelight. If Jill wanted all eyes on her like a spoiled brat? So be it! 

Your eyes narrowed and a sickening feeling came up as Jill played the victim in her hospital room still down the hall from you. Most likely an interview from earlier today. 

“It was terrifying…I'm just so glad me and YN made it. YN really fought hard but after she went down I did what I had to survive and finish off Charlie and the other two thankfully stayed down…It was traumatic.” She dabbed her eyes.

That lying little bitch. 

You felt anger well up in you. There was no answer. Either go to prison for god knows how long and have your name tainted to HOPEFULLY get her to go to prison too…Or suck it up that the person that murdered her friends and yours; got away with it. Clearly the police after interviewing you both separately again and again were positive despite Dewey or Gale's rambling and a stray nurse or doctor that didn't line up. The police and media seemed to think that you weren't involved and sadly neither was that piece of teenage shit.

Two crudely drawn pictures of ‘suspects’ were up. They somewhat resemble Billy and Stu but not quite. Not enough to pick them out of a crowd right away. Thankfully after you ‘admitted’ to Windsor pictures of Billy and Stu as Tim and James not being accurate and Randy unable to buck you or those two Detectives; they weren't reliable now. Just a traumatized teen girl that needed on meds back in ‘98 that poorly convinced, but convinced nonetheless, the authorities that the current sketch was more accurate of ‘Tim and James’ aka the guys ‘Most likely’ involved. Vincent and Dennis may need to change their look and lay low for a year or two. Maybe even change identities…But they might get away too, and despite how wrong it was, you were kinda…Relieved. 

You groaned and turned your tv off. Unable to listen to Jill's fucking lies. She lied much better than you did but thankfully since both your stories matched and they had no idea the cunning weasel Jill was. No clue she called you in secret on someone's phone or even the hospital staff for all you knew with how devious she was…Who would contradict your statements? Your ‘description’ matched up and you two were the only ones at the house to say so and the hospital had a few camera shots of them but too many contradictions. Judy barely got a glimpse of them and could clearly easily be swayed. Dewey was ranting like a lunatic that it was Billy and Stu and was obviously discredited for it and Gale was 50/50 if people would believe her. 

Dewey and Gale's descriptions were accurate and looked like Billy and Stu who were supposed to be dead. You and Jill's description match for the most part and you both were the victims at the house and both of you feigned innocence that ‘How could they possibly be Billy and Stu? There's no way.’ 

Who would the cops and the media believe? Exactly.

You closed your eyes. Back to square one. Being the innocent sweetheart was good while it lasted but you knew it wouldn't last forever. Just like you knew it wouldn't last for Jill either…She'll find out the hard way attention isn't always good. 

You knew conspiracy theorists would side with Gale and Dewey just like they did in the 90's when Gale made her claims you were involved. Some believer had attacked you at your damn house. And truthfully, this time around they'd be half correct. But thankfully, no one but tinfoil hats and naysayers would trust Gale's word over you, Jill and the media.

————————————

Gale paced their house. “This is bullshit…” She shoved a newspaper onto the table. “Utter bullshit, Dewey!” 

Dewey clutched his head. Yesterday still on his mind and today. He had to identify Randy Meeks body for Karla before they planned any final arrangements yesterday. He didn't want Karla to have that on her…Seeing his lifeless face.

The legal battle of Randy being Jewish and the state versus his religion on keeping his body for examination way past 24 hours for any evidence. He looked like a Halloween prop to Dewey. Skin unnatural from being kept on ice so to speak. They made sure he was not embalmed, at least only kept on ice and a Rabbi performed the right ceremonies for him. The Jewish Community the Meeks were a part of, including his sister Martha, fought the authorities wanting his body buried immediately while coroner's had to gather as much evidence as possible. Fibers, prints, how he was killed, if the knife matched a suspect.

It was only after determining the killer was most likely Charlie after finding knife patterns matching his Dad's hunting knife and shoe prints matching his in the mud and a hair found almost days later on Randy's jeans matching Charlie that they could put him to rest…Even though there was plenty of other contaminated evidence from the party on him and even if arguably some evidence was overlooked. Dewey just had to confirm the body one more time before putting him to rest. The coroner wanted more time but was legally advised along with the police department not to. That they had already pushed Jewish law enough as it was for the examination and Randy's family would win in court if they were taken there, something they threatened if even one more day went by. After all, his body had been kept for over a few days.

Bruises on the neck from the rope, lifeless features, skin so cold it was blue with veins showing. He couldn't imagine how much sewing they had to do to his body under that sheet despite his religion; or else his innards would be spilling out everywhere while on the examination table. When they opened his eyes slightly, lifting the lids, they were gray and dead…He looked nothing like fun jovial smart alec Randy and yet it was him. 

“Are you listening!?” Gale snapped.

“No.” Dewey mumbled in a strained voice, nursing whiskey. It has become a crutch to sleep and to loosen up right now. “No, I'm not. I had a pretty bad few days, Gale.” 

Gale went to snap a snarky remark but faltered. Then with a heavy sigh she leaned over the table. “...I know this was a shitty week. But if anything, it's more of a reason to not stop fighting.” She pointed at the table. “Do. Not. Give. Up.” 

Dewey leaned back looking at her. A lot of hope drained from him the last few days. “...And what? It's an open investigation now turning into a cold case.” He groaned and lightly smacked the table. “There are multiple fingerprints, one might match Billy Loomis from ‘96 but what will that do if they're nowhere to be found and no evidence they're alive? You said it yourself! We'll be laughed out of the courtroom. They'll claim the fingerprints were unreliable smudges or someone else. Same with the blood. If they aren't in the system paying taxes or buying things from reputable places or have credit scores then what good does it do? They might not even be in the Country now.” He shook his head.

“So what?” Gale urged. “And we don't know that. If they're stupid enough to stick around to help YN-” 

Dewey winced at that, “Can we just stop talking about it?” 

Gale looked dumbfounded but sat down. “...Don't you want this solved?” 

He scoffed, “Of course I do! But if Billy and Stu are never found then what good does it do?” 

“Um, incriminating Jill? The actual killer.” She grumbled. “If you won't search Jill's phone records then I will go to the Attorney General and get a subpoena.” 

Dewey glared at his wife, “No you won't.” 

“And what's stopping me? Why not!?” She demanded at her wits end with her husband  going in circles. “Still think Jill's innocent?” 

Dewey's mouth twitched and he rested his chin on his forearm on the table, “I don't know what to think anymore…But you are not going to rock this case until we find Billy Loomis and Stu Macher.” 

“Why?” Gale demanded harsher this time. “What's stopping me from just pointing it out online to some crime junkie then?! That video was shot in Jill's room Dewey and it's obvious and I can't believe you and your department are glossing over it!” 

“Because you're not throwing YN in prison, alright!?” He finally snapped before his voice and face wavered. “If you search Jill's phone and we find that evidence or we overanalyze the video and prove it was there then a case will go to court and…I don't know how much YN is involved. But I just…I just can't send her to prison until those bastards go first!...Besides, a video isn't enough without DNA and eyewitness testimony…Kirby said nothing about Jill or YN, only Charlie, and both their stories match up suddenly. We're the odd ones out here and Judy was knocked out before she could truly see them…All you'll do is send YN to prison, possibly Jill and those two jerks walk free like they have for 15 years.” He firmly declared.

Gale looked bewildered, “I can't believe this.” She huffed with a shake of her head. “You told her to get out and never come back. You were hunting her down. You wanted to arrest her if it meant getting answers-” 

“I wasn't thinking, Gale.” He grumbled and sipped his glass. “Maybe…Maybe I do think Jill could be what you claim?” Gale looked pleasantly surprised but he continued, “Maybe I realize this is bigger than I thought? Maybe, just maybe, I still have a bit of faith in YN that she wouldn't do any of this unless blackmail or forced or something…Why else would she come back? Why else would they send her here? You saw her! She was fighting them down the hall! She didn't want to go-” 

Gale scoffed and got up from her chair, “You're being an idiot!” 

“And you're being an opportunist.” He bitterly told her. “You're being the Gale I broke up with years ago. It always comes full circle for you, doesn't it?” Gale stiffened at his tipsy words and looser tongue as he buried his weary head in his arms on the table. 

“Hey, it does not! I have a career!” She argued seeing Dewey get more tipsy it seemed by the hour. Minute even. 

“Randy's dead. YN's a Traitor whether by force or her own will. Jill could be the victim or the killer. Billy and Stu lived and are out free. Hell, maybe I'm the killer at this point? Or you!” He slurred with a pitiful groan.

She huffed, rolling her eyes and taking the bottle from him. Gale gazed down at him and her usual stoic smugness softened. “...I know this is probably harder on you than it is me and we're being assholes to each other.” She sat the bottle aside and cupped his cheek as he damn near pouted at her. She sighed and softly ordered. “I think you need to take care of yourself with sleep and food that isn't liquid.” 

He grumbled, “No…I gotta keep looking, you said it yourself we can't give up. But for them, not YN and Jill. I want them to suffer, I want them to face justice damn it.” 

She sighed again and combed his short hair back a bit with her fingers. “Yeah, I know. But the biggest evidence to incriminate Jill Roberts and put the murderer away is on her phone, Dewey. It's right there.” 

“And the biggest evidence of all is Billy Loomis and Stu Macher.” He enunciated their names. 

“Look. Two things can be right, ya know.” 

“Not until we get them. I know YN, Gale…They got something on her…She's scared and won't talk cause she's worried.” 

“Yeah, worried about her own ass.” Gale grumbled under her breath as she pulled away.

“What?” 

“Nothing.” She straightened herself. “Dewey, c'mon. You cannot just let the case go cold until we find Billy and Stu; if we find them. What? Are you just giving up because we may never find them?” 

He shrugged tiredly, dark eyes dropping. “Maybe. The media is having a field day with Jill and we would need a LOT of evidence to make her guilty IF she is and you're right somehow.” 

Gale reluctantly agreed in a grunt of resignation. Jill was sweet as pie right now and the media was in her favor. 

“And YN was already made to look guilty from yyoouu-” He pointed at her, “She'll get blamed for something those two did!” 

She sighed and rolled her eyes, “Oh yeah? May I remind you she lied and shielded Billy Loomis from being shot. Twice. 1996 and now 2011” 

“Because she's a good person; you should try it.” He huffed out.

Gale sneered with a tsk, “Alright, you're eating something and sobering up.” She stalked to the kitchen as he sat at the small table and kept talking.

"She may be naive and stubborn but she's too soft hearted...I was wrong. She's gotta be protecting them from blackmail or maybe from being just too sweet of a person." He swallowed and shook his head. “She was dragged out…She didn't wanna go with them…You said it yourself, why was Jill in her room in the middle of the night? Why did Billy and Stu take her back here?...Why isn't she saying anything?...Why does her and Jill's description match when they're lliieesss?” He stretched out the last part. “How'd that happen, Gale? Huh? How did it happen?” He almost pleaded tiredly.

Gale was at a crossroads that she couldn't quite decide yet. She did NOT like the idea of it being a cold case forever looking for Billy and Stu…She hated someone else getting the glory for the inevitable of pointing out Jill's low survival rate and her superficial wounds plus Olivia's death recorded from her bedroom window as her neighbor…

Gale momentarily halted making him something. “...I don't know.” For once, was the answer. The only answer she had. Nothing made sense to her. You and Jill wouldn't talk and Dewey was gonna fight her on incriminating Jill and you. For hiding those two; Gale had no issue sending your ass to prison for tanking her career over lies you were still lying about but Dewey apparently did. 

But she also didn't want to make an enemy of her husband.

Fuck.

She sighed heavily while making him a grilled cheese. “....Fine.” She laid the plate down harsher than necessary in front of him. “We'll twiddle our thumbs waiting around to find Billy and Stu but mark my words, Dewey. If another murder happens? I am bringing that tape in play and that second murder is on you and Woodsboro PD. If YN goes to prison for whatever involvement she had then so be it. You can't protect her forever; especially if she's a damn murderer too.” 

With that, Gale left the room. Leaving a weary Dewey half drunk and tired and so emotionally drained he might as well be catatonic as he numbly nibbled on the grilled cheese his impatient wife burned.