#been sick for the past few days and had to skip a bunch of plans i was looking forward to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

unloved-cadillac · 4 years ago

Note

May I request a scenario where Levi & y/n are sleeping together. At a dinner someone asks Levi about his love life & he mentions he’s in a relationship. Y/n thinks he’s talking about someone else, so when they’re in private she decides to end whatever is going on between them bc she doesn’t want Levi to cheat. So Levi has to spell it out that he was talking about her. (:

C/n: I like this. I like it a lot. Thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy🤍

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A Secret Love. (Levi x Reader)

Soft lips pampered your neck with kisses as you straddled Levi’s lap. Your hands scratched his undercut, softly moaning at the feeling of his lips, and he moved away from your collarbone to view his artwork.

“You need to buy me more concealer if you’re gonna keep on doing that.” You chuckle and he looks at you. Your flushed cheeks and soft pants made him want to have you then and there. But he had a meeting in a few minutes and he called you in his office for a few seconds of shenanigans.

“Who said I want you to cover it up?” He shoots you a smirk and you roll your eyes. You plant a kiss on his lips and get up from his lap. You go to a mirror and fix your shirt before looking back at him. “Your meeting starts in five. I suggest you go before it starts.” You say and he gets up. “See you later?” He asks before he leaves and you nod.

You would think that you and him were together but that was so not the case. Levi and you had a strict contract about your relationship being only sex. The whole arrangement was just about relieving stress from the corporate business and trying to find some release. At first, everything was fine. Levi would call you to his apartment, spend a few hours there and you would leave. Then you started to stay over. And that turned into just hanging out.

Being his secretary, you always knew where he was and what he was doing. So if he called you into his office, 9 times out of ten, it’s for a quickie. That was it.

Until you started to catch feelings for him.

Each kiss he gave you made your heart jump and the way his hands roamed your body with more sincerity made you fall for him. He genuinely cared about pleasing you, something you weren’t accustom to since most of the jerks you dated last three thrusts and pulled out leaving you unsatisfied and annoyed.

You sat by your desk as Levi went for his meeting, waiting for him to come back. The day was slow and the only thing that he had planned was this big meeting.

Two hours later, Levi comes back to his office with his colleague, Erwin. Erwin was Levi’s childhood friend and now that he was in a similar business position as Levi, they started to see each other at meetings.

“Ms L/n. How lovely to see you again.” Erwin greets and shakes your hand. “Mr Smith. Likewise.” You smile and glance at Levi. “Say, tomorrow night there’s going to be a dinner with many business people. I’m going, Levi’s going and I will love it if you joined.” Erwin says with a smile and you look at Levi. As much as you two had a secret “affair”, he was still your boss. “Uh, I’m going to have to check with my boss first.” You chuckle and Erwin looks at Levi. “Oh, Levi isn’t going to be a pain and not let you come. It’s at the Rose House Restaurant down on Main Street.”

Your eyes widen at the name of it. That was one of the biggest, most expensive restaurants in the city. You would have to book a reservation at least four months prior.

Erwin laughs at your reaction. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you there, Y/n. See you, Levi.” He waves at Levi. “Later, Eyebrows.” Erwin disappears into the elevator and as soon as it descends you feel lips on your neck and arms around your waist. “If you wanted to go that shitty restaurant, you could’ve just asked.” He mumbles and you giggle. You turn in his arms and he lifts you onto your desk, settling in between your legs. “Do you want to go? Honestly I’m contemplating on going but if you want to, we’ll go.” He whispers and you nod. “If it’s not a problem?” He scoffs and kisses you as his hands start to roam. “You’ll never be a problem.” See, it was things like that that made you fall hopelessly in love with him. It sucked because you knew it wasn’t true.

~~~~

The next night, you checked your dress and make up for the umpteenth time and finally decided that you were ready. A simple long black dress with a slit up until your upper thigh with thin straps that crossed against your back made you look like a million bucks.

Your phone dinged and you saw that Levi was outside. You quickly grabbed your purse, checked your lipstick and left the apartment. You walked down the stairs and Levi’s eyes widened. You saw the change in his demeanor and you bit your lip as you twirled around, making him see everything. “What do you think? Not bad for a last minute.” You chuckle and he presses his lips against your hand, like a prince.

“You..look beautiful, Y/n.” He whispers and you don’t know if it’s the car lights or your imagination, but you thought Levi was blushing. You smiled and he opened the door for you and you jumped in. Levi sat in the drivers seat and buckled up. He started the car and a few moments later, laid a hand on your thigh.

It made your heart skip.

~~~~

The restaurant was as beautiful as you imagined. Maybe even better. Levi caught sight of the table and escorted you to it.

“Levi! You made it! Oh, Y/n. Looking amazing.” Hange exclaimed and you laughed. You weren’t expecting to see her here. “Hange?!” You say and she hugs you. “Surprised? Got back yesterday and decided to spend the day with my husband. Moblit says hi by the way.” You let go of Levi’s arm and sit next to her as Levi sat next to Erwin and his father. There were many other business men and woman there and although you were nervous, they were all lovely to talk to and Hange made you loosen up.

The night progressed from business talk to family to relationships. A very sketchy topic for you since you didn’t like to talk about it. There was one woman who was by Levi the whole night and you really tried not to be jealous. He wasn’t yours. So why did you feel the angry, green dragon of jealousy wash over you?

“Damn if I had you on my arm, I’ll never complain about anything ever again.” The woman slurs as she sipped her wine. Levi’s buttons were undone and everyone was relatively drunk so you were waiting for Levi to say “yeah. So let’s get outta here.” or something. Instead, something worse was said.

“Too bad I’m in a relationship.” He says and drinks the rest of his whiskey. Erwin, Hange and Erwin’s father snapped to him. “What?! With who?! Why didn’t you tell us?!” Erwin and Hange ask him and Erwin’s father pats him on his shoulder.

“What’s she like?” Hange asks and Levi groans. “As if I’d tell you.” His eyes glance to you. “Come on Levi! Tell us one thing, at least.”

Levi puts his glass down and clears his throat. “She’s beautiful. Witty and clever. She puts up with my shit and she’s special. Very special.” He says and Erwin smiles. You put your head down, staring at the liquid in your glass as if it held all the answers to the universe.

Levi was in a relationship? And he didn’t tell you? That means, this entire time, he was cheating. The thought made you sick to your stomach because as much as you loved Levi, you respected his unknown girlfriend as well and she didn’t deserve to know that her boyfriend had been banging his secretary for the past months.

“She sounds great, son.” Erwin’s father say and he nods. “She is.” She must really have made a special mark on his heart if he’s talking so much about her. You bite your lip trying to not cry. It hurt. It hurt like someone has stabbed your a thousand time and then proceeded to rip your heart out.

When it was time to leave, you kissed Hange and Erwin goodbye as waved goodbye to all of the people. Levi draped his coat over your shoulders and you froze. “Can only imagine how cold you must be.” He says and you nod. Weird. You always joked about everything and was so carefree so what was the change?

You and Levi walked to his car and before he could open the door for you, you opened it for yourself and sat inside. Levi pulled his eyebrows in, confused at your actions but he didn’t say anything. Rather he just went into the car and drove you home.

The entire ride home, you didn’t utter a single word. Not about the restaurant, not about the food, hell not even about him. Your mind was just trying to find a way to break this off in the calmest way possible.

When Levi parked outside your apartment, he turned the car off and looked at you. “You’ve been quiet all night, what’s wrong?” He asks and you breath in a big breath. “I think...we need to stop whatever this is.” You motion between the two of you and Levi’s heart stops. “What? Why?”

“Levi,” you look at him, dejected and tired, “you’re in a relationship and you didn’t tell me. It’s one thing to be doing this but she doesn’t deserve to be cheated on. She sounds like a great girl, by the way. I hope you and her have a good life together.”

Before he could even get a word in, you take off his jacket and jump out the car. You walked up three steps before your arm was caught by a hand, turning you. You almost fell but Levi caught you. “You really are an idiot.” He whispers and you pull away from his shoulder.

“What?”

“I said that you’re an idiot. How can you say that you’re such a great girl and then leave without me agreeing with you?”

Your lips part and before you could say “what?” Levi pulls you in for a kiss. “It’s you, dummy. I was talking about you,” he murmurs against your lips, “you’re witty and clever. You’re the one who can piss me off and turn me on at the same time. You’re the one who can put up with my shit. You’re the one, Y/n.”

You look deep into his gunmetal eyes, flabbergasted and touched. “Wh-Why didn’t you say anything back at the restaurant then?” Levi scoffs.

“I wasn’t going to officially ask you to be mine in front of a bunch of unknown people. What if you rejected me?” He jokes and you kiss him. Again and again.

“Never. I’ll never reject you.” You softly say as he hums against your lips. “Be mine, Y/n.” “I was already yours.”

You stay enveloped in his arms for a while but then he lifts you up and carries you bridal style to your apartment.

“Now can I show you what you being in that dress did to me the whole night?”

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“It’s only you who loves me like you do.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

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deleteddewewted · 4 years ago

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Incel!Shinsou x F!Reader fanfic idea (Part 2)

So here we are, Incel!Shinsou is back and this time with a bit of growth that he needs to make independently (While thinking about the reader of course. Thank you so much to @blossominglark for sending in such a lovely message! Also here you can find a small explanation as to why i even started the Incel!Shinsou series.)

"I think I want you. I think you're bad. I think you're good, it's like the love I never had. I think I need you. Oh God, it's true. I think I'm falling and there's nothing I can do" - Beetlejuice Chill by Life After Youth

Part 1: Incel! Shinsou x F!Reader

Part 3: Incel!Shinsou x F!Reader (1/2)

How difficult could it be? To forget that you ever existed... thats what's haunting Shinsou ever since the conversation you two had a few days ago. He cant seem to focus anymore, everything just reeks of you. (His own bedroom where you two would sit on the floor and work on your project together. You would laugh at something that came on the television, every time resulting in his face heating up and heart beating harder at the sound, the beautiful sound, of your laughter. It doesn't feel the same anymore. He cant sit or sleep there anymore.) Shinsou starts speaking with Aizawa more, to be honest its not like Aizawa gave him that much of a choice. He needed to understand what was happening with his son and you in order to help or bring some constructive input.

Shinsou goes on and on about how he mocked you to his "friends". When questioned on his "friends" he said that they were all telling him that you needed to be taught how to be a "proper woman" the "perfect girl for them".

("Hitoshi what-...why would you...?"

"I don't know! It made sense when i was young and- i... i dont understand how or why and...please just- help me i dont understand!"

"It's ok, it's ok, come here." Aizawa hugs Shinsou tightly. He starts running his hand over Shinsou's hair comforting him.

"What did you show them? What did you tell them about...her, exactly?") A mess of tears and regrets, thats what Shinsou is. A puddle which he somehow drowned you in out of a bitter rage that had nothing to do with you.

Aizawa finally holding a grasp as to how Shinsou's mind worked, he couldn't help but feel defeated. He neglected his son so much he became bitter and resentful towards the wrong people, the wrong person. (Aizawa only ever told Shinsou that his mother moved away from them because it was "too much for her". Young Shinsou couldn't grasp why his mom would leave him, but again he never really asked questions since he saw how upset it made his dad. "Dont worry Hitoshi, ill be here for you no matter what. Got it, problem child?") An intervention needs to be made now. To prevent even more damage, to keep his son safe and his sons ex-friend safe.

"Hitoshi? The posts and things you put online, you need to delete everything now." Urgency was a must, damage control needed to happen now. Who knows if Shinsou wrote about where he lived, where you lived and studied at, if he showed those "friends" of his your face. Who knows how much information he put out there to a bunch of strangers about you. "Ok, ok. Let me delete everything...yeah...thats-yeah...makes sense." He's slipping, Shinsou is slipping into a pit of shock and disgust, he needs to fix things and that only starts by wiping away years of miss informed opinions disguised as truths.

Everything is gone. No more accounts. No more pictures. No more you. He didn't make any announcements or even address why he was wiping everything. He didn't answer the piles of questions flooding his inbox about why he was doing all of this, he just didn't care anymore. He couldn't find you either. No account on any platform with any signs of you. (He should have asked for your socials, but knowing where you two started off at he thinks its better that you two didn't. It saved you from his incessant torment he saw himself being capable of.)

Week one came and went. You didn't show up for classes and people started to take notice.

"Does anyone know why y/n isn't at school anymore? Is she sick?" Midoriya asked one day. Everyone kind of just looked at each other hoping that someone might have an answer. Be it that no one other then Shinsou was in the same class as you, everyone in his friend group knew about you since you where always nice despite the way you presented clothing wise. (The clothing didn't matter nor did the labels, you were still so welcoming to everyone. Hell, you even welcomed Monoma and that guy is considered psycho by everyone.) Shinsou couldn't do anything but listen to his friends (Midoriya, Shoto, Denki, Mina, Iida, and Ururaka) go on about how nice you were. How they miss you. He misses you . He ruined this, he ruined your school experience and pushed you to lose the friends you had because of his own ignorance. He forced you to choice between showing up to school and dealing with him or not coming in at all and losing the friends you had because of him.

The Sports Festival was coming up soon, here all the students would compete against each other to show off their skills. The Festival acts more as an opportunity for the different Courses to fight each other since its focus centers on the physical strength and wellbeing of the students instead of their study of focus. It also helps with publicity by letting UA show off their students to the general public. (Shinsou didn't understand why the school would have a Sports Festival. UA was better known for being STEM and Art focused which meant that many of the students only had to take 1 year of P.E. instead of the 3 years other schools required.

"So again, what's the purpose of this?"

"Its just a chance for the different Courses to bully each other, and for the General Course to get mocked." responded Togeike. Be it that she never spent time with Shinsou, they both had a mutual attitude and just stayed away from each other out of disinterest. It wasn't after Shinsou's personality changed did she feel more comfortable being around him and started speaking to him casually throughout the day.

"So what does the Business Course do during-"

"Hey, didn't you and y/n work on that project together?" This caught Shinsou of guard. For the past week its all been about you and how you hadn't been coming to class. (You haunt him even outside of school, the guilts too much for him at times.)

"Yeah...what about it." he snarls. Just because he's changed in appearance and largely in attitude, that doesn't mean he's over the way he treats people. Cant she get to the point already-

"Geez man, i just wanted to ask if you needed her number." That...was off. Why would she assume that he needed your number?

"Why would you give me her number? Don't you think that as former project partners i would already have her-"

"You're clearly upset about her not being here, so shut up. Either take it or leave it, jackass." she bit back. How did she know? Shinsou has always had a resting bitch face which made it hard to read his emotions. How did she manage to figure it out? (God he was an asshole!)

"Yeah, please....i'm sorry. I could-"

"Please shut the fuck up, i don't want an apology from you. Take it and fix this shit. I hate seeing people mope and you're pretty much dying in a pit here." Togeike really gives no fucks and she was tired of the purple haired boy looking like a kicked puppy. She assumed it had something to do with you. When you started skipping class, Shinsou also started to look upset and wouldn't speak that often. It wasn't like Shinsou was shy, he just didn't see the need to speak all the time. So to see him become even more silent was concerning.)

He left school that day with a skip to his step. He has your number! He has a way of contacting you! Yet, he still knew that having your number wouldn't fix anything. You left him alone and it wouldn't be fair for him to barge back into your life without proving he's improving, that he's actually deserving of you're friendship at least....

The Sports Festival.....

He can prove himself to you there....

Everyone will see it, every student at UA has to be there for credit....you'll have to be there. You'll also have to participate for the start of it, so you'll have to interact with someone.

(This was it)

This was so much fun to write! Lets give this a slow build up to give him proper character development and redemption. The next part will be the Sports Festival and what he plans on doing to get you back. Let's set up that his intention is too for one, make an impression on the school for when he decides to transfer to the Art Course but also to make an impression on you and get you to notice him in a positive light. Our poor incel is trying his best ok....

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bubble-tea-bunny · 4 years ago

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i could make you care

[saiki kusuo x reader]

author’s note: i tried to incorporate as many characters into this as possible to make it feel like an actual episode and i got overwhelmed so fast lol i haven’t written this many characters in a story in a long time. in any case hope i did them justice and that you enjoy :’)

word count: 3,029

Today’s morning is bright, and Saiki’s walk is quiet. Typically this would be no cause for concern. A quiet walk to school is few and far between, difficult to come by given the company he keeps. (He’d much prefer a calmer bunch, if he were granted the chance to choose, but that is neither here nor there.) Don’t misunderstand: he’d bask in this brief peace, guaranteed to be broken the moment he passes through the gates of PK Academy, if the reason for this uncharacteristic period of silence comes about because of the absence of one particular person—someone who, if one could hardly believe it, Saiki actually prefers to have around more often than not.

He walks past the street which leads to your home, his pace never slowing because he expects you’ll join him, as you do every morning. You’ll wait for him on the corner and smile widely like you haven’t seen him in weeks then skip towards him, falling in step easily. He’ll remain nonplussed as you hug his arm, give it a brief squeeze as you greet him—Good morning, Kusuo!—and then promptly let go because you understand he likes his space but you just can’t help but indulge a little bit.

However, none of the aforementioned events play out this Friday. You’re not on the street corner, not there to smile and fall in step with him. There’s no arm hugging or a bubbly greeting Saiki pretends he isn’t affected by. But the truth is that he is, the routine coming somewhat as a comfort, even at the price of sacrificing some of his beloved personal space. So when you’re nowhere to be found his brows furrow and he wonders where you are.

His steps slow until he comes to a complete stop. He wants to check up on you, sooner rather than later. There isn’t much time to delay if he wants to make it to school before the first bell, but this won’t take long. He crosses his eyes, activating his clairvoyance, and he centers in on you immediately. You’re still at home. You’re at home, and you’re sick.

A box of tissues rests on your nightstand and you’ve pulled your small trash can right next to it from where it usually stands by your door. You toss used tissues into it before nestling beneath your blankets, pulling it up to just below your chin and hugging it close in order to retain heat. Your breath evens out quickly and he can tell you’re asleep. Your body must be exhausted dealing with your cold, and he’s confident this is the way you will be the rest of the day—drifting in and out of sleep, dealing with the sniffles and congestion.

He blinks and loses sight of you and now he’s staring once more down the road. Readjusting his bag on his shoulder with a sigh, he resumes walking and thinks about his plans for the day. As it was the last day of the school week, he’d planned to go to Cafe Mami for coffee jelly to celebrate. But now that he’s learned you’re sick in bed, he’d have to make adjustments. Momentarily he debates if that’s really necessary. You probably wouldn’t want visitors in the state you’re in, and knowing you, you’d tell him to go to the cafe without you to enjoy himself anyway. The thought is tempting, truly, yet he can’t shake the urge to check on you.

It feels less like an obligation and more like a simple desire of his own to make sure you’re okay. Saiki shakes his head, more amused than frustrated. There’s no one else for whom he would so willingly do this, or much else, for, and he doesn’t think he’d ever tell you because you’ll tease him the way you are wont to do whenever his facade cracks and he’ll let you have your fun because when you ask if you’re really so different as to make him act this way, the answer is, well, yes. You are.

He imagines this scenario and the corner of his lips lifts in a small smile. Good grief. You could be quite the handful.

“Hey, Saiki!”

Nendo’s voice is entirely too loud for the morning and Saiki heaves another sigh, one that sounds as though it belongs at the end of the day and not the beginning. Nendo is joined close behind by Kaidou and Kuboyasu, and they easily fill the silence with discussions about going to get ramen after class and the latest movements of the Dark Reunion. Saiki really only picks up words here and there that allude to the topic of conversation but it doesn’t require his full attention. It’s the same song and dance every morning.

The commotion once he arrives at school is much the same. During lectures he is afforded the temporary reprieve from having his ears talked off, since the only one speaking is the teacher, but at breaks, the noise resumes, and though he always stays sitting at his desk, in hopes the others will get the hint that he’s uninterested in chatting, they inevitably crowd themselves around it, until he is right in the middle.

Hairo has outlined a new workout regimen and in his louder than normal volume of speaking he shares it. He’s going to start it today, and if anyone wants to join, they’re more than welcome. It doesn’t look like anyone wants to take the offer, which is expected. Hairo’s exercise routines were… a little extreme.

In any case, Hairo is nonplussed by the lack of enthusiasm from everyone else and remarks he can’t wait for the end of the school day.

“I think I’ve been losing muscle tone,” he laments, and he complements this statement with a casual flex of his arm, more so to point out the specific areas he thinks are getting soft rather than to show off, but even if he isn’t trying, his biceps are bulging and if his sleeves hadn’t been rolled up, they would have torn.

Saiki’s brow raises. Yeah… I don’t think that’s an issue for you, Hairo.

“I’ve just finished installing an indoor gym at my home, you know.”

Everyone turns to find Saiko has entered into the circle, a smug smirk on his face. When had he gotten here? Really it’s only Hairo who has any sort of reaction to this, eyes practically sparkling imagining the machines and equipment (or maybe that’s just the glare from the fluorescent classroom lights). All the same, Saiko relishes the attention, boasting of the privacy and space and how really, it’s so much easier to be productive if there’s no one else there but Saiki can only wonder if Saiko even works out at all. He doesn’t remember that being mentioned, and Saiki is nothing if not detail oriented.

Saiki doesn’t have long to ponder over this (not that it would’ve continued much longer because he doesn’t actually care about whether Saiko exercises or just set up a gym in his house to brag) before Nendo asks where you are.

Had he just noticed? You always join them on their walk in the morning. But Saiki can’t say he’s surprised it took this long. What he is surprised about is that Nendo had noticed in the first place.

“Oh that’s right,” Kuboyasu adds. “I thought she just went ahead of us today.”

Yumehara informs them of your whereabouts before Saiki does. “She texted me this morning she wasn’t feeling well so she stayed home.” Her phone dings with a new message and she glances at it, then looks back up. “But she says she’s a little more awake now!”

“It’s the Dark Reunion.” Kaidou’s sudden interjection draws everyone’s attention. He clenches his right fist, staring at the bandages wrapped around it. “They’re trying to get to me by going after my friends!”

Saiki remains expressionless but if he didn’t have such good control he would’ve rolled his eyes. Or maybe she just has a cold.

Upon Kaidou’s claim that a secret society is responsible for your illness, Saiki picks up Yumehara’s thoughts: I wish I was the one Kaidou was so worried about! Maybe if I got sick he’d worry about me too! Getting sick to grab Kaidou’s attention? That’s… going overboard, but Saiki can’t find it in him to be shocked, considering from whose mind this speculation has sprung.

“Poor [Name],” Teruhashi says, kind as always. She sets an index finger on her chin, gaze momentarily aimed upwards as she thinks. “I was about to suggest we all go to the cafe after school today and I wish she could join.”

This gives Saiki pause. Wait. The cafe?

“That sounds like a great idea!” Yumehara declares. Again Saiki hears her thoughts: If we go, I need to do my best sit next to Kaidou!

Whether a visit to Cafe Mami comes across as a good idea because it’s a fun way to celebrate the end of the school week or simply because Teruhashi suggested it, Saiki doesn’t know, but one by one the murmurs of assent resound through the group and he barely contains a relieved huff. He’d already changed his own plans from visiting the cafe to seeing you instead, and it’s a good thing too since it’s apparent his alone time would’ve been ruined. Now he has an excuse not to stick around.

Once the final bell rings, they begin their walk into town towards the cafe. The sidewalk feels crowded with all of them on it, and they have to split into pairs to keep the opposite side of the sidewalk free for people going the other way. Among comments from everyone else about how hungry they are, Saiki makes known his intention to just pick up food before leaving. There’s somewhere he needs to be.

“You’re going to go make sure [Name] is doing okay!” Teruhashi exclaims. It’s a statement, not a question. “That’s sweet of you.”

Saiki shrugs. “Sweet” is not the first word he would associate with his actions. It just seems like common sense to check on you. You’d looked miserable this morning, but he takes your message to Yumehara earlier as a good sign that you’re improving, slowly and surely. Still, he’d be more comfortable seeing you himself. He hadn’t gotten any other chances today to use his clairvoyance, but at least it wouldn’t be long now until he’d be heading to your house.

Chisato is working today and she seats everyone. Saiki goes directly to the counter to place his order—coffee jelly for him and strawberry mochi for you—and he stands off to the side while waiting for the treats to be packed. The others are sitting on the far side of the cafe (in his peripherals he sees Yumehara has taken a seat right next to Kaidou) but he can hear them clear as day discussing what food they should order. Yes, he’s certainly glad he won’t be sticking around. Spending Friday in the midst of that noise is far from ideal.

Holding the bag of coffee jelly and mochi in one hand, Saiki uses the other to push open the door, the bell jingling gently, and someone, Nendo it sounds like, raises their voice to shout across the room: Seeya later, Saiki! Then the door closes behind him, and all he can hear is the footsteps of other pedestrians and the low whoosh of cars.

He exhales slowly. Peace at last. He proceeds in the direction of your home, and when he thinks to himself that any longer and his ears might’ve begun to bleed, he’s only half joking.

In the neighborhood it’s much quieter, the only person he passes being someone walking their dog, and only a couple of cars drive past. He knocks on the door and he assumes you’re in your room and so it will take some time for you to open it, but you’re there faster than he expects. You open it just wide enough to stand in the gap, and immediately he notices the fatigue in your eyes. When you realize it’s him, they light up, and the fatigue fails to take away from the brightness of your smile as you open the door wider.

“Kusuo!”

Inside, he sees you’ve moved downstairs to the living room. That’s why you’d answered the door so quickly. There’s a pile of blankets on the couch and a tissue box on the coffee table. The television is on and playing an animation. He doesn’t recognize it, but it must be one of the new ones you mentioned wanting to watch. However, you’re not interested in it now that he's here and you grab the remote to turn down the volume.

“I thought you were going to the cafe today,” you state, head tilting.

Saiki shakes his head. Change of plans. Instead I brought the cafe to us. He holds up the bag of food and doesn’t have to tell you what’s in it. You squeal in delight that he’s come bearing treats, but the sound is a little raspy and awkward due to your sore throat. It’s still easier on Saiki’s ears than the earlier commotion he’d been surrounded with and, if he’s honest, it’s cute.

You plop down on the couch and wait as he joins you. He unties the bag and opens the box, first taking out the packaged pink mochi and handing it to you. Then he grabs his coffee jelly and the plastic spoon it came with before settling back against the cushions.

You sit cross-legged facing him and bite into your soft and squishy treat, humming delightedly. “Thanks, Kusuo.”

Saiki chews a mouthful of coffee jelly and glances at you.

You grin and hold up the mochi. “For the snack and for coming to see me.”

He shrugs because it’s no big deal. Or, well, he tries to play it off like it’s no big deal. But you know him better than that, better than most others do, and don’t brush it off so quickly. You breathe out dramatically and set a hand on your chest.

“What must I have done for Kusuo Saiki to give up his quiet time for me?” Then you giggle, and it’s punctuated at the end by a sniffle.

He tells you there would’ve been no quiet time at the cafe since the others had also decided to go, and that you’re much better company. Even when I’m sneezy? you ask him, and he chuckles. Yes, even when you’re sneezy.

His remark about coming to see you because he’d prefer to be here and not at the cafe with the rest of your friends is merely part of the truth. The rest of it is that he did genuinely want to check on you to make sure you were okay. Though to give this a voice felt like too much for someone typically so reserved in his feelings, but you understand perfectly fine as you smile softly. You’re appreciative of his actions, and it would seem Teruhashi had been right about them, for you murmur that he reminds you of the mochi you’re eating: You’re so sweet!

Grabbing your mug from the coffee table, you frown when you see it’s empty. “I ran out of tea.”

Saiki sets the spoon and now empty container back in the box then holds his hand out. You blink, momentarily confused, but when it registers what he’s doing, you give him the mug. As he stands to make his way into the kitchen, you call after him.

“Thank you!”

Having been to your house a number of times already, he knows where everything is and starts brewing a fresh cup of tea. You’ve turned the volume up on the television again, but you have to rewind to return of the spot you were at before he’d arrived. Once he comes back with a filled mug, instead of allowing it to continue to play, you pause your show.

You’d snuggled beneath the blankets and have to finagle your arms out of the multiple layers to take the mug from him. You say thanks again and blow gently at the tendrils of steam floating from it. The ceramic is warm in the palms of your hands and you sigh contentedly.

“Sorry I’m a little high maintenance today,” you apologize suddenly. “I’d make the tea myself but I just have such little energy…”

Saiki wishes you wouldn’t apologize because there’s nothing to be sorry for. So he tells you as much. Don’t apologize. Besides, he’d offered to make that tea, and if you wanted soup, he’d offer to make that too. He does understand where you come from, however. You tend to be more independent, opting to do things yourself, and you also know his propensity for being alone and needing space. As such, you’re careful not to be overbearing, and the idea of Saiki doing even little tasks like brewing you tea bothers you.

It’s endearing, the level of care you take to make sure he’s comfortable too, but when he says you’re far from high maintenance, he means it. You immediately understand what he’s implying and laugh before scooting closer and leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Okay, point made,” you concede. With a small smile, Saiki grabs the remote you’d tossed down on the couch and presses play.

He would struggle to call you high maintenance on any day considering who your friends are. They’re loud and all over the place, practically bouncing off the walls. Life could hardly be tranquil when around them and their antics. It’s the total opposite of Saiki, who values calm and silence. If they were high maintenance, he was low maintenance. That’s the way he prefers to be, existing in relative quiet and as close to mediocrity as he can muster. But he can't say he’s opposed to the occasional interruption to the otherwise mundane, especially where it concerns you. You’re not to be found on one side or the other, but right in the middle, and to Saiki, you are just right.

#saiki k x reader #saiki k imagine #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki kusuo imagine #saiki k #saiki kusuo #the disastrous life of saiki k.#bubble-tea-bunny #queue

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urlocalbunny · 4 years ago

Note

My request is... Boys making reader cry. It could be in an argument, by accident... As you want! 💗💗

Aaron:

You and him were arguing because you had a few disagreements over the last few days where he took more days than normal to come back home after full moon.

"I mean, where have you been this whole time?! This isn't fair at all. I was worried sick about you and you're still here trying to sound right."

The thing is, it got very cold over the days and he was practically freezing, so he stopped by some places he knew to camp while coming back home at night. He got pretty upset when he found out you and him would fight.

"Well, maybe if you stopped to listen for five minutes, you would understand that it's snowing like crazy and I went too far, that's something I have no control over and it happens time to time. I can handle myself, y/n. I'm sorry if it's not the same for you. I know I'm too much already."

You felt guilty when the silence showed the window slamming against the frame. Snow poured inside but nobody bothered to close it. He was, indeed, having a hard time coming back home. You immediately started crying because you were so worried about when he would be back, that you forgot about how he would come back. In fact, he should still be on the road. He hurried home for you.

As soon as Aaron sees the tears threatening to spill, his voice also cracks. "No... What have I done... My beloved, please don't cry. I'm so sorry. I did my best and the fact that you seemed to be angry with me frustrated me, but please... Don't cry. What can I do to make it feel better?"

You hold him tight, apologizing and explaining how worried you were and how you didn't even care about the snow outside. He let a single tear fall into your cheekbone, as you hugged and apologized to each other.

Raphael:

The fight of the day was when Raphael had one of his days where he would think about Mag again. You felt insecure while you watched the scenes unfold, and how much he still felt attached to the woman he once loved.

Raphael barges in the room, making you stop the keys on the piano and watch him, but his face didn't look so happy. He leaned against the door frame in such a weird way that it looked ominous.

You both started an argument because apparently, Raphael could feel your self-loathing over the whole situation and he seemed angry because you interfered with whatever it was that he felt. He was trying to get a point across that you didn't quite understand, until Raphael groaned and looked at you dead in the eyes as if he could see you and said it.

"Y/n. You will never be like Mag. Get this through your head once and for all!" Now, what Raphael was trying to say was that you didn't have to worry because you had another space in his heart that Mag wouldn't take away from you even if she was alive and tried, but you was so drunk in your own insecurities, that the remaining thought was the exact opposite.

When your sobs filled the room, Raphael dreaded the very first day he thought about Mag after meeting you. He ran towards you, cradling you and explaining he loves you now, and Mag was a part of his past life. But that's another story and he misses the life around that time and her company rather than her romantically.

You slowly feel the parts you didn't understand making some sense. "You are not understanding what I mean." "You are special to me, but it is different." "Mag is not here anymore, you are. I just miss her and need some time." "You are here in front of me, what are you scared of?"

You sighed in shame because you had made a mistake when it came to his healing, but Raphael didn't budge as you held each other close in the small bench.

Beliath:

Again, Beliath didn't spend the night at home and you were starting to get pissed. It's not that you cared about his parties, but damn, you were supposed to at least kiss and hug for a while, right?

"We're night creatures, Beliath. Night. It means we're only awake at night. Can't you spare some time for me? This is starting to get ridiculous." "Well, why don't you come with me instead?! You're saying this, but you're also barely making an effort too!" "So at least you're admitting you're lacking?!" "Don't be silly."

You sniffle, then attempt to strom off, but that's not on Beliath's plans. He blocks the door and you yell something he doesn't comprehend because of the sobbing. You are still young as a vampire and pushing him off proves itself hard while trembling in anger.

He sighs and rubs his face while his voice softens. "I'm an asshole, right? I just don't know what to do now that things changed. I thought you didn't need me anymore and I wasn't there for you... The truth is that I miss you every day. Not being able to sense you is... It's weird. I'm so sorry, baby. I've made you cry..."

You look at him, surprise in your eyes as you feel more tears prickling your eyes. You touch his face as he frowns and his sorrow surfaces. "I told you before... I don't know what to do with this and now that I'm feeling things for myself, I... I feel like you'll hate me."

"Beliath. I've seen you with purple eyes, all white and with weird ass veins in your body, clutching your stomach and being a drama queen. You're my man now." You look at each other for a while.

"You sure know how to cheer a man up." "..." "Don't you dare laugh at me." "I'm not g-HAHA-"

He hugs you to muffle the sound, sighing as a smile graces his face.

Vladimir:

Vladimir really didn't mean to be this negative on you and he didn't realize how much his whirlwind of emotions could resonate on you. He just wasn't sure of how much you loved him.

The argument started for a stupid reason. It was just a bunch of chores that he got into and he got a little weak from hunger. He didt realize he skipped a bite and you went to check on him after feeling rather weird.

The thing is, you tried to make sure he wouldn't skip meals anymore and it turned into an argument because he can't seem to understand that sometimes, he isn't being judged. People just genuinely love him.

After a while of slamming doors and arguing, Vladimir rubbed his face and sighed.

"I think you could understand that I'm over three hundred years old, y/n. I'm not stupid!" He sat down in the bed, glowering at you.

"Good God, Vladimir, that's not what I mean!" You sniffled, grabbing onto your pants and squeezing them. "Can't you just see I'm trying to take care of you?! I'm your partner, for fuck's sake. I honestly don't get you and I'm not capable enough to get through to you, a-and you're so over your own head that it gets hard for me to help you. Am I- am I even doing this right?"

He simply shuts you up with a kiss that knocks your breath out of your lungs and makes your head spin sweetly when you open your eyes. He's looking right at you, palms drying your tears and running on top of your face and neck.

"... I am sorry for doing this to you. Confusing you. It is being hard for me too, so please, just- please wait a little longer. I should not have worried you. You are more than what I could have asked for, my love."

Ethan:

Not understanding your man is something you had to get used to at first with Ethan. He didn't want to be understood and you had to deal with it for a while now.

The thing is, you never really knew when Ethan could strike with his good mood either. Sometimes it would be a little scary given your rough beginning. So when Ethan suddenly popped out of your door and caged you in his arms, you were a little scared.

He let a big, long sigh out, resting his chin against you for comfort. He seemed to be panting and that was all you needed to know that he was probably having a hard time keeping it together.

"It's going to rain. Don't leave me alone. Please." You didn't realize it, but you'd started sobbing. That was the first time you felt like Ethan really needed you. He cupped your face, a worried frown gracing his features.

"Babe, are you alright?" "It's just that I... I thought you'd never ask me to stay with you." This answer doesn't make Ethan happy. He closes the door, heading towards the bed and sitting with you, scoffing. His eyes scan your face as he dries your eyes.

Guilt crawls up his whole body, eating away at the little sanity he's saving. His arms tighten around you as tears stream down his face. He feels safe, sorrowful, small but at the same time, your protector.

He wasn't open to this things before. But, as the rain falls against the walls, he realizes it doesn't matter as long as it's good for you and him.

Ivan:

Being a chalice was stressful. Especially when you were a young vampire's chalice and significant other. Sometimes, Ivan didn't quite measure how he expressed his anger, and a hungry youngling was equally disastrous.

While Aaron and Vlad did their absolute best to handle the situation with you, it was hard for them to mingle into your affairs when you were romantically involved.

That's why Ivan was baring his fangs at you as you spoke to him as if he was a five year old to try and get him to move his ass off the bed and do something about his life.

That wasn't really nice of you considering he was having a really hard time with his maturing right now, you could confess, but he was really getting stressed out. You wanted to stop and admit you were wrong, but the pride swelling inside of you stopped you.

Although you felt your emotions as a human girl, Ivan was not a human anymore, when he finally snapped at you and calmly told you to stop trying to control him and changing him to your benefit, your next best reaction was to sit and cry.

"Why do you always have to be like this?!" You yelled, sobbing uncontrollably and fisting your pants angrily. "I can never win, right?! Ever since I tried to get my life together it seems... It seems like I'm supposed to be dead. But guess what? I am!"

Ivan stood there, quiet. You kicked and screamed, ashamed for throwing a tantrum, but you never really had the opportunity before in your life. He sat down beside you, holding your hand and giving it a squeeze.

"I understand you, love." He said, as he dries your tears. That was enough for you to apologize and make amends. Tomorrow was a new day.

#moonlight lovers #moonlight lovers headcanons #bunny's writing #sfwbunny #ml aaron #ml ethan #ml beliath #ml raphael #ml vladimir #ml ivan

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spookysmujer · 4 years ago

Text

Peligro, O.Diaz

Summary: Oscar’s S/O getting hurt by a rival gang.

warnings: swearing, slight verbal/phyiscal abuse, fluff

requested by: @gemini0410

a/n: Thank you for the two requests! I apologize for taking so long to get these out but I appreciate you trusting in me to bring to life your ideas, I hope these are worthy of your liking. I want to thank all the new followers as well as the OG ones for showing me so much love even though I am barely active. Finally back in commission, also I just celebrated my 24th birthday! hehe. As always please consider: following, leave a heart and comment on my content, reblog it and turn on this notifs!! Thank you babes!

(gif belongs to @merakiaes ✨)

“Where you at now?”

The crisp wind is blowing against your face as you walk through the empty parking lot of the local animal clinic. The once brightly lit sky is now a deep dark blue. It’s a calming sight to see after that nearly 12 hour shift.

“Still at the clinic. Just as I was 10 minutes ago when you asked then.” You chuckle a bit as you get your keys out from your purse, pressing your phone to your ear with your shoulder. You hear Oscar’s light chuckle as well. He’s a worry wart, though he rarely shows around most. But with you, he’s always worried about your well being.

Your shift ended up a double when your co-worker called out sick last minute. And apparently everyone else couldn’t make it in. So you were running back and forth between the receptionist desk and assisting the veterinarian. But alas, you finally locked up the shop and now on your way home. Granted it’s an empty bed you are heading to.

Oscar had a drop to make across the city, a few hours away. Which is the reason for his persistent worry on your location. Things have been hot lately, shit constantly going on between the Santos and other gangs. And the fact that you had to work later than expected and out past 9:00 PM has Oscar on edge. Add the fact that he isn’t there to help you get home safely or home to him.

“Okay, I’m in the car now. Setting my purse on the passenger seat, turning on the car.” You tease, a grin permanently etched onto your face as you do the things you listed to him. “Keep teasing, nena. You know how things have been, I just want to make sure you get back to the crib safely.”

You smile to yourself, switching your phone call to bluetooth to be hands-free as you make the 20 minute drive home. Oscar stays quiet most of the ride home, the silence a comfort for the two of you. A long day of sick animals for you and a long day of meet-ups for him.

He suddenly hears the engine of your car shut off and a door close. This confused him as you’ve only been driving for only 10 minutes and you didn’t say anything about making home, “Where are you now?”

“I’m starving, I stopped at Dwayne’s. He extended his hours so I am about to get a fat, juicy burger with a side of fries and big ol soda!” You are drooling as you make your way into the shop.

The two of you bicker for a few moments later but you reach the counter and get your order in. He tells you to sit in and eat but you barely had energy left. If you were to grub on your food whiling dining in then you’d most definitely knock right out.

“Then get home. I don’t know why you didn’t have food delivered to you when you were at work. What part of it’s not safe on the streets right now are you not fuckin’ hearing?” Oscar has finally snapped as you get back in your car. You sigh loudly.

But before you can sass or even comply with him, the sound of the phone call ending sounds in your ears. You pull your phone down to see that it had died thus the sudden ending of the call.

“Shit.”

You mutter as you lean over to see if you left your phone charger in the glove compartment, but to no avail. The amount of ‘shits’ you spew out is enough to fill a swear jar. You can hear Oscar from all the way over here. He’s on edge with the drop, with being away and now this shit.

The idea of Oscar being more stressed then need be because of you causes you to lean your head back and close your eyes for a second. Just get your culo home, Y/N. You say to yourself as you sit upright in the seat.

As you turn the key into the ignition to start the car, a spurting sound comes from under the hood. You try a few more turns, cursing more loudly as the car fails to turn on. You look around and the only other car in Dwayne’s parking lot is the worker in the restaurant.

Before you can get out of the car to head back in to ask for some help or to use a phone, a few more cars pull in. You sit back as the cars park across from you, not recognizing any of them. It’s when its occupants exit the car, you feel your heart skip a beat.

19th Street.

The purple and white sticking out against the moonlight. You watch as they all cluster together as a few enter the restaurant. You’re stuck, your car isn’t working and your phone is dead. And the only saving grace is heading inside but at this moment what would that really do? How would the poor young worker be able to help you out with the bunch of wannabe gangsters out numbering the two of you.

In the midst of your thoughts, you hear the sound of gravel crunching nearby. When you look up you see of few of the members heading towards your car. Panic sets in deeper.

“Ay, Spooky’s chick. You far from your Spooky, ain’t you?”

You try to ignore it but you feel a bunch of eyes on you. The comment of being Spooky’s girl gets the attention of the rest of those that were standing by their cars. Your heart rate begins to pick up now.

“Yo, I’m talking to you!”

And in this moment, you realize why Oscar always worries for you. Not just because things are hot with the two gangs at the moment because most of the time you aren’t aware of your surroundings. For example, Oscar always tells you to lock your car door when you get in. It don’t matter if it’s early in a crowded area, always lock your doors. But with the phone call, you were distracted and didn’t.

So when your door is quickly opened, you mentally damn yourself.

“Oh, yeah that’s Spooky’s ruca. Get her fine ass outta the car.”

You try your best to to move over the middle console to the passenger side or through the back seats. You figure if you can do that then you can get out from that side of the car. But barely over the middle console, you feel hands pull at you.

Never show weakness. You hear Oscar’s words.

You kick and thrash as hard as possible as you hold onto the inside of the car, fighting them off with every ounce of strength you have.But it’s useless as more hands reach in and get a good grip on you. They pull you out of your car with ease.

“Get off me, I swear to God I’ll put a bullet in your fuckin’ head!” Your voice is sturdy and holds power in it. Something else Oscar has always reminded you about.

They only laugh at your words, “ Big words for a lil hyna, huh? I wonder just how good that mouth of hers really is.” The sick and vile thoughts of what they could do to you begin to cloud your thoughts. As they all laugh and catcall you, you spit harshly in one of their faces.

This earns you a harsh slap across the face, the sting registering instantly. A hand grasps your face, squeezing your cheeks as they step closer to you now directly in your face. Your arms are being bound behind you from other, leaving you defenseless.

“Big words, you ain’t doing shit. You can’t do shit not without your big bad Santo, can you? Not to worry babygirl. I can show you how a real gangster does it.” He gets closer, feeling your waist with his free hand as his other still holds onto your face.

A sudden shot goes off, alerting everyone around you. They all reach for their guns and turning towards the sound of the shot. And a big wave of relief washes over you. Dwayne stands with a shotgun aimed their way, not a look of fear on his face as 6 glocks are pointed back at him.

“I suggest you all leave. You got your food, now get the hell off my property.” He says making sure to have a sight on everyone.

Your heart is beginning to calm as headlights shine onto you, a few cars pulling into the parking lot and familiar faces appearing. A few Santos quickly pulling out their guns and aiming to the members of 19th street.

Sad Eyes stands tall, towering over everyone. “Do as he says or all your moms have funerals to plan tomorrow. If not, Spooky is on his way and bet, you gonna wish you were already fuckin’ dead.”

Those of 19th street give a glance at the one who has your face in his grasp. He nods and they lower their weapons, as he releases his grip on your face. The one who had a hold on you releases too.

Once they hop back in their cars, the Santos put their guns away, Sad Eyes walks over to you to make sure that you are seriously hurt. You nod and push away his hand that went to assess your red cheek, “I’m fine. How’d you get here so fast?”

He chuckles, “As soon as you told him you had to work later than you were suppose to, he told us to head back. He was right to, shit been getting way too out of hand especially with 19th street. Still not carrying the glock, I see.”

You shake your head, averting your gaze to avoid the told you so look from him. Your attention is pulled from Sad Eyes when headlights shine again through the parking lot. The infamous cherry red impala pulls up. The engine is barely cut when he’s out of the car and in front of you.

Sad Eyes steps back as the rest of the Santos do as well. “Let me make you all something to eat,” Dwayne says out loud as everyone piles inside to give you and Oscar privacy.

“My phone died, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t notice how low my battery was and then my damn car wouldn’t start and the-” The water works begin, the lip trembling and the reality of what just happened hits you all at once. Oscar lets you cry in his chest.

He fights between wanting to lecture you or comfort you. Tonight could have ended badly had his gut not told him to send out some of his guys. And with you failing to always be aware of your surroundings, right now he could be on his way to the morgue to identify you.

His arms eventually wind around you, his face pressing into your hair. For a moment, he melts and relishes in the fact that you are okay and that you are in his arms.

“You’re safe. And I’m here. Everything else is in the past and we let that shit go. But best believe this, nena. When the streets are hot, you turn down doubles and I want you with me as much as physically possible. Because the fuckin’ thought of you hurt because of me...” He trails off, his voice now a bit shaky.

You peer up at him and smile slightly, he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. Gently caressing your aching cheek, pecking a soft kiss on it. You sigh in relief as he holds you close to him and not wanting to let go.

Ever.

#Oscar Diaz #oscar spooky diaz #oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz x y/n #oscar diaz x you #spooky imagine #spooky x reader #spooky x you #spooky x y/n #omb #on my block #netflix on my block #omb imagine #omb fic #santos #east los

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preciouspeterbparker · 4 years ago

Text

i wish i were

inspired by conan gray’s “heather”

warnings: stepsibling incest (not yet but that’s the whole premise), underage masturbation, underage sex, angst. peter’s like 16 and a half, Tony’s almost 18

word count: 2.2k

summary: peter’s in love with his big brother. no biggie. (spoiler alert: it’s a big deal)

(A/N: okay this has been living in my head rent free for over a month. i've written more, but it's not fully fleshed out yet.

i figured i would post this and see if anyone is interested in reading it before i put a bunch more effort in lmao. this is filth. most of the angst comes later lololol (and more filth).

i hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think / if you'd like to read more!

- bloo)

PART ONE

Peter stands at his locker, desperately trying to blend in and remain unseen as he switches out his English textbook for Physics. The school year is basically over, given that it’s the last week of May but he’s still not comfortable in the junior-senior hallway. He’s always been the youngest (and therefore smallest) kid in most of his classes, given that he’s been in the ‘gifted & talented’ track since middle school. (He’s on track to graduate next year, taking his last few mandatory classes and completing an internship for additional credit.) This year, Peter feels even smaller than usual; maybe because most of the seniors are already eighteen, while as a sophomore, he isn’t even seventeen. He doesn’t have many friends this year, because of it. Ned moved away last summer because his dad got a new job, and, well, he’d never really needed more than Ned before.

“Hey Pete-squeak,” comes a voice from behind, making him jump. Rolling his eyes, Peter pivots slightly to face the newcomer. The infestation of butterflies that he's been harboring for the past few months begins to flutter immediately, tickling the walls of his stomach as his cheeks flush lightly.

The voice belongs to a tall (or, well, taller than Peter, anyway), ridiculously handsome boy with dark hair and dark eyes, walking towards Peter with his hands in his pockets. The cheeky smirk on his face is all but permanent, but the small, genuine smile it slips into is something that Peter holds close to his chest, something that is typically reserved for him.

Tony, his older brother, is pretty much Peter's favorite person in the world. Technically, he’s Peter’s step brother. Maria, his mom, and Peter’s dad Richard got married when Peter was a year old and Tony was almost three. They’d essentially spent their whole lives together; neither of them could really remember anything before. They’ve always been close, but that’s changed a little bit this year.

“Hey Tony,” Peter chirps, reaching back into his locker to grab his physics binder. He tries to act natural, even though he feels anything but. His heart’s going a mile a minute inside his rib cage. He feels a little ridiculous, he has for the past few months. Swallowing, he manages to sound relatively calm. “You read the last 2 chapters of Beowulf, right? Mrs. Herrera gave us a pop quiz last period.”

The older teen groans. Closing his eyes, he throws his head back, a metallic thunk sounding as it collides with the locker he’s leaning back on. “Fucking hell. The final paper is due in like four fucking days! Is that not enough?” It’s quiet for a moment as Tony pauses before he opens one eye, cutting it to look at Peter. “What were the answers?”

Peter snorts in response, shutting his locker. “Not happening, T.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time and lets the left side of his body rest against the cool metal. Three minutes til the bell rings, and Mr. Riley’s class is right across the hall. So he’s essentially got three minutes to indulge himself and the fuzzy warmth that’s running through his veins. He loves any time he gets to spend with Tony. “You’re lucky I told you at all, be grateful.”

Tony wrinkles his nose at him. “Rude,” he scoffs in mock offense. “I know you can remember them,” comes his teasing accusation. (And he’s right. Peter can recall the entirety of the quiz, but he’s still not going to enable Tony.) Then he pauses and raises an eyebrow at his younger brother. “Is that my sweatshirt?” The garment in question is a worn and slightly faded black Led Zeppelin USA 1977 crewneck sweatshirt. Peter’s wearing it over a charcoal and white check button-up. The sweatshirt is one of Tony’s favorite pieces of clothing, he wears it all the time (hence why Peter...borrowed it...without asking).

Having mentally prepared himself to be questioned at some point, Peter’s reply is already on the tip of his tongue. “Yeah, it ended up in my laundry and once I put it on it was too cozy to take off. And it looks good with these jeans and the button-up. And my boots. Trying out a new look,” he finishes, smiling as he pushes his glasses further up his nose. Tony often teased him about the thick, clear-but-slightly-pink frames, but Peter hadn’t wanted glasses at all (he doesn’t need any more reasons to be teased, thank you), but he likes these. They make him look cute, more feminine. More like someone Tony could want.

“You’re right,” Tony smiles. One of his hands comes up to playfully ruffle at Peter’s russet hair. “Looks great on you, kid.” There’s warm affection in his voice.

Peter feels his cheeks go hot again, and he wills the flush to go away. He can’t take compliments from Tony, now- they make him ache and preen simultaneously. He knows that Tony doesn’t mean it the way he wants. Peter knows that Tony would never speak to him again if he knew what was really going on inside his little brother’s head. The thought makes him sick to his stomach.

Speaking of stomachs. “Hey,” he starts as he fingers through the papers in his physics binder, attempting to find the problem set that’s due today. “Did you ever catch up on Hell’s Kitchen? I’ve been rewatching episodes trying to wait for you, but you’re taking too long. You saw the episode where Gordon-” Peter’s heart falls to his stomach and he abruptly stops speaking when he looks up to notice that Tony isn’t looking at him anymore, barely seems to be listening.

It falls completely out of his ass when he sees just what, just who, has stolen his attention.

“Sorry, Pete, gotta go,” Tony mutters once he realizes that Peter’s stopped talking, shooting him a hasty smile and shoving off the navy metal. He skirts past Peter, a slight skip in his step as he makes his way down the hallway.

Peter's swallows and clenches his jaw as he watches his brother walk straight to her, the bane of his existence. The reason he and Tony don’t spend as much time together anymore. The object of Tony’s affections. Pepper. She's...everything Peter wishes he could be, honestly. Tall, somehow a perfect mix of skinny & curvy, bright blue eyes, long strawberry-blonde hair. She's perfect. And not only in looks; she's also ridiculously smart. If Tony wasn’t valedictorian, she surely would be. She even volunteers at the local soup kitchen every weekend, and Peter’s pretty sure she reads to dogs at the animal shelter once a month. He hates that Pepper is so nice; he hates that he can't hate her without hating himself for it.

As if he didn't have enough self-loathing already.

***

Peter exits the bathroom that connects his bedroom with Tony’s after gently flicking the lock on his brother’s door to disengage it, the soft ‘snick’ ridiculously loud in the quiet of the house. He’s the only one home; Mom and Dad are at some sort of event for Dad’s law firm, and Tony went to a party at Rhodey’s house. (Tony had insisted that Peter was invited, but he had to know that the younger would never go- why would he want to be surrounded by drunk, horny, belligerent teenagers? The last thing he wanted to see was Tony and- )

There’s a dark gray towel loosely wrapped around his waist, so loose he has to clutch it in his hand to keep it from falling. He closes his own bathroom door behind him and drops the towel, digging through his underwear drawer to pull out a random pair of plaid boxers.

After sliding them on, the brunette takes a deep breath and lays back against the pillows, arms behind his head. He tries to consciously relax his muscles, the tension of the day not having melted away during his shower like he had hoped. Time for Plan B. It’s never let him down before. Peter reaches for his phone and unlocks it before swiping through his apps to open Spotify. The sound of “Dazed and Confused” fills the air through his speakers, and he sets it to repeat on a loop. It’s a little fucked up, the way he’s conditioned himself to respond to this song, but- Peter knows the whole thing is fucked up; he’s fucked up.

Closing his eyes, he does the only thing he’s been capable of for months: he thinks of his older brother.

He’s growing fond of the new facial hair Tony’s trying out; he wonders how it would feel against his skin. Which areas would be the most sensitive to its touch? His thighs? His neck? Peter’s head tilts back and to the side as he imagines wet, warm lips and the scratch of stubble. Just the thought, the phantom sensation, makes a soft mewl leave his mouth. It’s a little ridiculous how easy he can get himself going, when he thinks of Tony’s touch, of his body. Of his love. In his boxers, his cock shifts against his thigh as it begins to fill out.

The sensual, plucky bassline and wailing guitars of the song drag along, and so does Peter’s breathing as he brings a hand up to pinch at one of his nipples. He imagines the way Tony would tease him until he was whining, begging for release. He supposes it wouldn’t be dissimilar to his older brother’s typical manner of playfully taunting him. Maybe Tony would pin him down like he did when they were younger, climb on top of him and hold him there with the muscles he’s gained from boxing in the garage. The opportunities he’s had to see the older teen breathing heavy, shirtless and glistening with sweat, would be forever ingrained in his mind. The mental image sends more blood rushing south and his dick throbs as it quickly reaches full hardness, drawing a gasp from his mouth.

Peter takes himself in hand, studying the details of his cock. He knows he’s not huge, but he’s at least on the larger side of average. It’s flushed a deep, mauve-y pink, and he traces the line of a vein on the side with the tip of his pinkie. A shiver shoots down his spine. He wonders how similar it is to Tony’s. Is he circumcised like Peter is? Is he bigger? Longer, thicker even? Sure, he’s seen him naked before, when they were younger changing or in the bath, but that stopped around the time Tony was seven or eight.

(Tony and Peter had come home from school one day, and Peter’s head had been reeling over what he heard some older girls saying on the bus. He’d decided to ask Tony about it. His big brother knew everything. ...Mom & Dad caught them kissing in their bedroom. That was the end of bathing together, and Tony got his own room, too. Peter never forgot about the way his big brother’s lips felt against his own.)

A bead of precum oozes out of his tip and Peter rubs his thumb over it, smearing the liquid over his cockhead. Robert Plant’s voice moans over the speaker and Peter echoes the sound as he slowly strokes himself with a loose grip, his hole tightening around nothing. Biting his lip, he hesitates before slipping his left pointer finger into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it sloppily. Once it’s wet, he reaches down and gently presses the pad of his finger against the tightly furled muscle between his cheeks. His breath hitches as the sensation; he’s only touched himself down here a couple of times before.

The tip of his finger begins to breach his opening and a whine leaves Peter’s mouth. It stings a bit so he tries to relax, muscles fluttering, making a mental note to grab some lube next time he goes to the drugstore. He wants to be able to stretch himself out more, to imagine Tony’s fingers, Tony’s cock, splitting him open and stuffing him full. Fuck-

Tightening his grip on the base of his cock, Peter grits his teeth and grunts softly as he pulls his finger from his ass. He can’t cum yet- he’s not done. He reaches under his pillow, pulling out the balled-up t-shirt that’s taken up residence there. The black fabric has faded in some spots, and the Black Sabbath logo is cracked and worn; it’s one of Tony’s favorite shirts. Peter brings the soft cloth up to his nose, fumbling with it to find the area with the strongest smell. There are hints of Tony’s Old Spice deodorant mixed with a scent that’s distinctly Tony, a warm, masculine musk that has saliva pooling in Peter’s mouth. Delirious, fucking his hand to the beat, he wishes he had dug a little further in the hamper, pulled out a pair of Tony’s briefs.

That’s the thought that does him in. Peter cums into his fist, gasping his brother’s name, the sound getting muddled in the maelstrom of guitar and drums. Thick ropes of jizz splatter on his stomach and chest, entire abdomen heaving with his breaths.

He wipes the mess up with Tony’s t-shirt before tucking the fabric back under his pillow for safe keeping.

to be continued???

#starker #starkercest #peter parker x tony stark #peter x tony #bloo writes bad things (tm)

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years ago

Text

The Best Things ~ J.V. (part 12)

A/n: I would like to apologize for not marking warnings on each part like I should have been. I get too excited to post and skip over them on accident. I’ll do my best to add them from here on! Also, I was adding the warnings as I wrote but then they didn’t save so I tried to remember them as best I could. If I forgot anything, I sincerely apologize.

Warnings: Recounting past trauma (physical abuse, homophobia), explicit talk of death, badly handling others’ trauma, light smut (foreplay: slapping, choking, degradation, daddy kink, handcuff restraining, brat/dom dynamic, punishing, teasing, masterbation)

Word Count: 5200+

MASTERLIST

The air was so thick with tension that a knife could have cut through it. No matter how much Harley was fighting his instincts to lounge and be himself - the self Jeremiah was used to, at the very least - he felt like he had to be the self he used to be. The one Bruce was expecting. Jeremiah knew Harley was trying too hard, and Jeremiah was far too easy to read - which meant that Bruce knew too. So Harley sat there trying to behave and Bruce sat there brimming with suspicion and pain and hesitation and Jeremiah sat between the two boys, wishing this had never happened and he could just escape the two brothers who seemed seconds from either running or fighting.

Echo, as if sent from God, walked into the room with a pitcher of water. They were at Jeremiah's instead of Wayne manor as Harley had absolutely no intention of being back there or anywhere near Alfred. The butler was far too good at accepting change, which meant that the man might pick up on the fact that Harley was no longer Y/n and the whole thing would fall apart. Honestly, it seemed like so much work. Harley wasn't sure why this plan was so important but Jerome was feeding off of it so Harley did it anyway because he'd said he would. If this is where Jerome lead, Harley would follow.

"So," Echo cut into the silence as she walked around pouring drinks. "How is everyone this evening?"

Harley smiled at her, amused. She was poorly hiding a sort of awkward expression that was dashed with a little humor. She was mocking them in her head; Harley could almost hear what she was thinking. A bunch of dumb boys sitting around a table unable to swallow their pride. Idiots. "Oh you know," Harley mumbled casually, shrugging. "Indulging." He motioned to his food but his words were obviously directed at the ambiance.

"Having a good time?" Echo asked.

"Not at all," Harley immediately answered with the same casual, chipper tone. Jeremiah choked on his drink as he laughed at the exchange. The humor delivered saltiness in Harley's voice and the passive aggressive mocking in Echo's had always been an exchange that could make Jeremiah chuckle at least a little. Echo and Harley were very good at banter and it lightened the mood significantly every time they went at it. After all, it was just in good fun. Bruce seemed to relax as a smile curled everyone else's lips. "So... Harley." His lips seemed to want to reject the name.

Harley's smile dropped. Hearing Bruce call him that made him uncomfortable. Not just because he was nervous about Bruce not calling him Y/n as he had all up until this point but because he had cut Bruce out of this new life very purposefully and now... he was in it anyway. "Yes?"

Echo sighed and left the room as she sensed Harley jerk back, even with her attempt to loosen everyone up. Jeremiah focused on his food. Bruce looked at Harley but Harley did not look back, instead choosing to stare at the door Echo had gone through. "Why Harley?"

That was an easy question. "When I was in Arkham, a few of the guards used to beat the shit out of me every single day to try and convince me to be straight." Harley looked Bruce in the eye when he said this, completely calm. He had long since gotten over it. "They even put me in isolation to keep me away from people who might protect me or care about me."

"Jerome." Bruce didn't form it like a question.

Harley answered anyway. "Yes. But see this is a smaller world than everyone thought and my therapist, Harleen Quinzel, became my friend instead. She's like me, but for girls." Bruce nodded, accepting that. "They couldn't kill me without having to mark me as a loss. That and they'd have lost their punching bag. To teach me a lesson, they killed her. And then made sure the TV that was never supposed to be on the news would be on the news, on just the channel and at just the time that would allow me to see her bloody, bruised, cold, dead body strewn out for the public to see. And no one gave a single shit because no crimes in Gotham get solved unless someone important is involved. And even then- well, you know first hand."

Bruce's expression grew very dark. "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't," Harley purred, still eating as if he was talking about the weather.

Jeremiah has stopped eating. "People are really like that?" His voice was small and his eyes moved to Bruce, his hands tightening around his silverware as if picturing Bruce's face cold and dead and staring at him through a TV. Bruce felt his eyes and looked back to Jeremiah, but the red head averted his gaze to Harley instead. "I mean, people really act like that just because of... how someone loves?"

Harley nodded, swallowing the food in his mouth. It tasted like sand but he kept eating it. It made him feel powerful to while the others in the room had forgotten their food altogether. Although... Perhaps he hadn't chewed it as well as he thought because it felt as if it had gotten stuck somewhere along the way. A thick lump had lodged for a second and a sick feeling had settled in the bottom of his stomach. He hadn't thought about that image in so long... the daily bearings and the isolation and the one ray of light he'd gotten being extinguished and displayed because he had dared to be himself and therefore allowed her to do the same. Because they were different than how most people were.

"Do you know who did it?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah." That didn't seem to be the answer Bruce was expecting. "This isn't great table conversation," Harley eased, changing the subject. "But that is why I go by Harley. Do you like it?"

Bruce shrugged. "Do you still go by Wayne?"

Internally, Harley sighed. "Harley Quinn."

At that Bruce nodded. "You're not coming back are you?"

Harley laughed dryly. "You're not very good at casual, light conversation are you Brucey?"

"Don't call me that," Bruce snapped, body going stiff.

Rolling his eyes, Harley sat back in his seat. "Why not?" It came out harsher than Harley had meant it.

Meeting hostility with hostility, Bruce got angry as well. "Because that's what Jerome called me, and after how many times he tried to kill me it's not a name I like."

"Get over it," Harley sneered. "It's just a name and we're in Gotham. Trauma is kind of a part of life here. Adapt or get trampled."

Bruce jerked back. "Get over it? Since when are you...?" He trailed off, as if hesitating, before his face set and he finished his sentence with a much harder tone. "Like Jerome."

Harley felt his knuckles turn white. "Stop saying that like it's a bad thing." "It is!" Bruce hissed.

Harley shot to his feet, dropping his silverware on the table. Jeremiah flinched but Harley didn't notice. Bruce did. "Look, Jerome is fucked up and dark and broken. He doesn't have a grip on reality or know how to human because he wasn't fucking treated like one. He killed people. He was crazy and insane and unhinged and dangerous. Yeah! You know what else he was? He was understanding and accepting. He got why people lived their lives differently than he did and didn't really judge anyone, ever. He thought they were boring and chose to live differently, sure, but he lived to make people laugh and have fun. Maybe his sense of fun was fucked up, but he genuinely just wanted people to laugh along with him for once. He didn't hide who he really was. He wasn't ashamed. He didn't shun me and shove me in a corner and try to change me. He accepted who I was. He CELEBRATED me. I'd rather be with him than at this stupid fucking dinner or anywhere near you because I'm not some poor gay boy who needs saving. I'm strong and I matter and I FINALLY love myself, and you won't ever take that away from me because you see self respect and see Jerome because no one taught you that you are more important than everyone else. I refuse to sit here and let you try and turn me into some pathetic whiny brooding mess who's never happy because my priorities are fucked up. I won't be you. That isn't my goal anymore."

The room was dead quiet. For a long time, no one said anything. The brothers just stared each other down until Bruce shook his head. "Perhaps this was a bad idea."

Jeremiah pinched the bridge of his nose. "You guys are idiots." The other two in the room looked at the red head with shock. "My brother is dead, and honest to god it's a relief that he is. He's out of my life and I'm safe from him. I never had the chance to have a real relationship with him. I used to read the newspaper about your family and think that you guys were some kind of dream. Two brothers that loved each other despite everything and parents that were like... actually good people on any level." He sighed. "Obviously I was wrong. You're too busy trying to make him how he used to be." This he directed at Bruce. "And you're too busy hurting and bottling up your emotions and pushing everyone away to let anyone care about you or see the real you." This was for Harley. Jeremiah didn't stop when both other boys went to speak though. "Just shut up and make this work because you guys are the only true family you each have left. Harley, you grew up and I have to say you wear your changes very well. You're happier and sturdier and if someone isn't happy about that then they're insane. Right, Bruce?"

The Wayne boy hesitated before giving in. "Yeah. I am happy for you. I should have started with that. I just... I'm scared for you."

"Why?" Harley demanded, exasperated.

"Because I don't want you to become Jerome. I don't want you to end up like that. I don't want you to be some criminal, when you used to be the best person I knew. You said your life goal used to be being like me? No. I wanted so much to be like you. You couldn't speak about a huge part of you, but you accepted it with the knowledge no one else ever would. I refused to even look at the fact that I'm attracted to guys until you and Jerome got together and then..." his eyes shot to Jeremiah and then back. "Things happened and- and you were always so bright and happy and free. Like a bird in flight or- something." He shook his head. "You were inspiring, Y/n. Seeing you like this... it looks like you've been broken. And I just want to bring back that light you had before. When you seemed so much happier."

"I'm not broken." Harley looked at the boy who was supposed to be his brother. The boy who used to be his best friend before one lie after another had pulled them further and further apart until they were on completely opposite sides. Secrets had torn their relationship up into so many little bits it could never be repaired. They were just too different now. "I'm not lost or struggling. I'm just not... sitting there and pretending all the bad things aren't happening. The friends I have now actually like and respect me as a person, not just because I'm Y/n Wayne. I'm myself, proudly, and I wear my experiences as a reminder of what I can endure. Things hurt less. What you see isn't some poor boy waiting to be saved. It's darkness. And maybe that scares you, because you're used to hiding your darkness. But darkness, Bruce, isn't a bad thing. Darkness is what makes us who we are. Like everything it can be used as a weapon, but Darkness itself isn't dangerous. What you do with it is."

Bruce considered that for a long time. "That... is a good point."

Jeremiah released a breath. "So... truce?" The boys looked at each other before shrugging. Harley sat back down. Jeremiah seemed pleased. "Okay, now lets talk about something a little more pleasant."

"So you mean literally anything other than what any of us have been up to recently?" Harley sassed. Jeremiah shot him a look. "Okay fine whatever." He searched for some light conversation. "So you guys are like boyfriends now or what?"

That seemed to make Bruce and Jeremiah both blush and the air in the room cleared significantly. Harley pulled off being cheery and invested as he teased and prodded and asked questions and engaged. Things almost seemed like they used to be when Bruce and Y/n would sit with their parents and Bruce mentioned a girl and Y/n would go off about how he was going to be the best man or the world would surely end... but Harley wasn't Y/n and Jeremiah wasn't their parents. This wasn't Wayne Manor and as good of a server as Echo was, she wasn't a butler. She wasn't Alfred.

Under the light tone, Harley formed a plan. A plan he carried out as he and Bruce began to hang out more and more as time passed that night and stretched for a while. Jerome became nocturnal in favor of being awake when Harley finally returned at home. The boys would spend some time together and then sleep and then Harley would wake up and go out and spend time with Bruce and Jeremiah again. Slowly the time with the other boys began to cut into Harley's time with Jerome and both he and Harley were getting restless. They'd begun arguing about it.

"Stay in tonight," Jerome whined.

"Bruce wants me to come back to Wayne manor tonight." Harley sighed, an odd expression on his face. "I've finally earned his trust and am getting along with him - as much as it pains me. I think Jeremiah is talking to him when I'm not around, convincing him to behave and respect my boundaries. He calls me Harley and has stopped expecting me to be the person I used to be. I don't know, I think he'll be enough to convince Alfred though I might have to try a tad harder." He rubbed his forehead. "Soon I'm sure I'll be chummy with them again and that'll definitely lead to interacting with all of Bruce's friends - which will be a whole other adventure of its own."

Jerome huffed. "If you're going back to Wayne manor, won't Bruce want you to move back in?"

The thought had occurred to Harley if he was being honest. Where did he draw the line in being buddy buddy with his brother again? Where did he stop things? How far did Jerome want him to go? "Probably," Harley voiced, shrugging. There was a long pause. Jerome was more guarded than he usually was and it set Harley on edge. When the red head did speak, it was in a dangerously quiet tone. "Would you go?"

"W- would you want me to?" Harley was distracted by the way Jerome's Adam's Apple moved when he swallowed.

Jerome hummed. "So this is still about what I want?"

That made Harley defensive. "You think I'm dealing with my arrogant brother because I want to?" It had a biting edge to it.

"And what about my brother?" Jerome pushed.

Now Harley was confused. "Jerome I did all of this for you. To convince them you were dead so you'd be free to have some free time and then make your grand entrance whenever you wanted to. I did this because you asked me to." Jerome rolled his eyes. "You've been gone a lot. You come home... lighter. You enjoy your time with them."

"I'm sorry, you WANT me to come home miserable?" Harley sneered, his hands coiling into fists.

Jerome's eyes darkened. Harley realized what was happening. Before he could react, Jerome's hand shot out, fingers curling around Harley's throat. Jerome pressed his boyfriend against the closest wall, his face close and words sharp like knives. "You're getting angry again. Talking to me like that, as if I'm one of our dumb brothers or that blonde idiot Jeremiah carries around. You might have been gone for a while now, but SURELY not long enough to have forgotten to respect me."

Harley gasped, eyes fluttering closed. Jerome's grip wasn't dangerous but it could go that way if Harley wasn't careful. Jerome only ever got like this when he was frustrated. Usually when he was bored and wanted to do something other than sit around. To be fair, he was cooped up which was something he HATED to be. He hated feeling trapped. And on top of that Harley had been spending less and less time around the place. It was a miracle the redhead had behaved so long. Harley had spent more nights with Jeremiah, talking to Bruce so late into the night and fake catching up and playing nice that it was just easier for them both stay at Jeremiah's. Alfred had even gotten used to a simple text from Bruce letting the older man know where he was and that he was safe. If Bruce wasn't home by 10pm Alfred had come to expect that he wouldn't be back at all. It had become a sort of habit.

Perhaps Harley had been a tad neglectful.

He sighed, letting his guard down and releasing all the tension he'd gained from being around Bruce. Jerome didn't deserve this. "I'm sorry, you're right." Jerome didn't let up. "Oh so you shoot me puppy dog eyes and say sorry and that's supposed to be it?" Harley could feel his insides warming as Jerome grew closer, the air in the room slowly becoming infected with sexual tension. The sudden mood change was hard for Y/n to switch gears to, even though he was immediately eager. "You've forgotten who you belong to."

"I-"

Jerome's hand tightened on Harley's throat, cutting off any attempt to speak. "What was that?" Harley coughed a little as the initial shock took him off guard. His eyes fluttered but he could still breathe which is what mattered. "Come on, Harley. Come on, Y/n." Harley jerked at the name. "Is that what you want me to call you? Is that who you want to be?"

Harley wasn't dealing with that shit. His body jerked, arms wrapping around Jerome. He pulled hard, twisting to turn Jerome around so he'd have to let Harley go, or risk hurting his arm. As predicted, Jerome let go. Harley twisted their bodies with extreme force, pushing Jerome's face into the wall aggressively. "What the fuck did you call me?" He growled. The words were raw from his throat being a little sore. It made Jerome smile. "Answer me. Now." Harley let his free hand thread into Jerome's hair. He pulled, the red head squirming underneath him as it began to hurt. "I said, now."

"I called you Y/n," Jerome answered softly. His tone was half reluctance and half defiance. He didn't want to answer Harley like he'd been told to, but saying the name again did give him power.

Harley leaned back, pulling Jerome away from the wall just by his hair. He dragged him over to the bed. "Kneel. Now." Jerome was giggling as Y/n hurt him, getting off on the pain. "NOW, Valeska!" Jerome smirked, taking his precious time with following the order. When he was down, Y/n maneuvered his face into the bed. "Stay there. If you move, I will know and you will be punished. I will be back in a moment." He left Jerome there, ducking out of the bedroom to the trunk in the bathroom, shoved in the closet. He opened it, pushing around some things they'd collected in their time together. This was the stuff they used when things got more kinky. Handcuffs Jerome had gotten from cops even before he and Y/n were together. Rope from a construction sight. Some things were specifically from sex stores - stolen of course.

Ignoring most of it, Harley grabbed the handcuffs and went back into the room. He returned to see Jerome had indeed moved. In fact he was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands. He was smirking at Harley, a dare in his eyes. The red head seemed to be expecting Harley to lose his shit, but Harley didn't. Instead, he got very still, thinking. That seemed to actually make Jerome nervous.

Slipping the handcuffs into his back pocket, Harley slowly approached Jerome. His eyes cut into Jerome's soul, his jaw so tightly shut that Jerome shivered. "What, you think you're going to look at me and-?"

Jerome didn't get to finish his sentence. Out of nowhere, unexpectedly, Harley backhanded Jerome, causing the sitting boy's head to snap to the side. The red head was shocked, but found his stomach twisting with the familiar sensation of arousal. This wasn't like when he was a kid. Harley was calm and controlled - even his hit was direct. There was a safety in the way that Harley controlled himself. Jerome didn't fear him. It left room to enjoy what was happening. Harley gripped Jerome's jaw, bringing the red head's brown eyes around to meet his. "What did I say when I left the room, Jerome?" Harley not using a pet name in a sexual situation made Jerome shift nervously. Was Harley actually mad? "You told me not to move."

Harley released a breath, smirking as he got turned on just by getting Jerome to answer his question without being pushed. When Jerome was being bratty, he refused Harley any amount of control. So when he let up even the smallest amount, it never failed to excite Harley. "And what did you do?" Unwilling to let Harley win twice in a row, Jerome shrugged. Harley slapped him again. The red head blinked, breathing sharply outward as he felt the stinging on his face. "I moved."

A hum came from Harley as he stood, crossing his arms. "You know I had to punish you for using the wrong name, but it was going to be pretty light. Now..." Jerome shivered under that look - like Harley was trying to figure just how to kill him. "I'm going to take your clothes off Jerome. If you fight me, you'll get immediate punishment do you understand?" Jerome nodded. Harley rose an eyebrow.

"Yes, Daddy."

That seemed to please Harley. He stopped glaring at least. First Harley removed Jerome's shirt. Then he gently nudged Jerome, and the redhead followed the flow and laid back on the bed. Harley then removed his pants, and his socks one at a time. Slowly. Jerome felt himself get antsy. "Do you want something, baby?" Harley asked evenly.

"I'm fine," Jerome responded.

Unfortunately for him, his erection gave him away. "You don't want me to do... anything?" Harley asked again, pausing to look at Jerome very carefully.

The redhead looked back for a long time, a battle happening between the two men. Jerome lost. "Jesus Christ Harley, touch me."

That got Harley to smile. "Ask nicely J, or I'm going to have to punish you." Jerome went to glare but Harley reached up, threading his fingers through Jerome's hair and pulling roughly. "Listen here bitch, I'm not here to mess around. You're going to listen to me or you're going to regret it, understand?" They had come a long way since having sex in a cell and trying to keep quiet. Back then, Harley had fumbled and blushed a lot and been overwhelmed very easily. Back then, Jerome would stretch out, getting comfortable as he bossed Harley around - a true power bottom. Or, he would top, and then he'd get very soft and quiet and affectionate... Well, compared to how he usually was when he was impossible to please and degrading to an extent that had driven Harley insane.

Now adays, things were different. There was a huge power play between the two men constantly, and endlessly pushing buttons. What would often happen was that Harley would be a bit of a brat but otherwise let Jerome blow off steam, unless it was a day that Jerome desperately wanted Harley to "take hold and ruin" him. A direct quote from the ginger. On those days, Jerome did what he did best: he kept talking. He said all the things he knew would piss off Harley the most, like calling him by his old name. He would make Harley snap and then Harley would retaliate exactly how he wanted.

Not today.

"Fuck, you're such a baby," Jerome grumbled, rolling his eyes. "I'm bored with you playing daddy, I already know all your moves and we both know that you're just going to give me what I want anyways. You're a soft top, Sweetheart." He was smirking, proudly flaunting the power he usually had over Harley.

Today though, Jerome had pushed him too much. After all the shit he'd gone through with Jeremiah and Bruce, hearing Jerome call him Y/n had pushed him in a way that had sent him over the edge. And if he was being honest, he had his own frustrations. He wanted to run free as much as Jerome did and break things and scream as loudly as he wanted and sock his stupid brother in his face any time he dare even mention Jerome's name in Harley's presence. He was tired of behaving. He was tired of feeling like some toy. He was tired of being used. He was really, REALLY fucking tired of being ignored, too.

Harley's smile was dangerous. Jerome looked at him, unsure of what was going through the other boy's head. "You know, you have a little too much attitude for someone who's currently desperate for me to touch him. You want something from me? You need to learn some respect." Harley reached over, grabbing Jerome's wrist and forcing it toward the top of the bed. It happened so fast that only when Harley had used one cuff to get Jerome's right hand, and then had threaded the second cuff through the bars at the head of the bed, did Jerome react.

"HEY!"

At the outburst, Harley didn't hesitate to slap Jerome again. The redhead gasped, body shivering. He would absolutely never admit it, but this kind of aggression had always turned him on, when he was comfortable with the person. He'd wanted someone to be like this with him for ages, but not many people were willing to go far enough to please Jerome Valeska. By the way Harley was looking at him right now, this time might be different.

"I didn't give you permission to speak. Granted, I didn't tell you to shut up either so I'll be forgiving, but if you shout at me one more time you will regret it." He gripped Jerome's other wrist, cuffing that as well. Now Jerome's hands were over his head, trapped by the cuffs and the bar. "If you want to say something, I want you to address me first. I will allow you to continue then. Or I will not." Jerome hesitated, then nodded, intrigued by this side of Harley even he had not the pleasure of exploring before.

What came next surprised Jerome. Harley didn't take him right there, rough and hot. He didn't move slowly around and tease until Jerome wa a desperate mess of begs and whimpers. Harley didn't touch him at all. In fact, he moved off of the bed completely. He left the room even, returning a moment with a chair. Only then did he undo his own clothes, only lowering his pants enough to allow himself access his erection. He didn't even pull his pants off all the way! Jerome felt completely exposed, tied up and naked for viewing pleasure, when Harley was so far away and completely dressed.

To Jerome's intense frustration, Harley sat down on the chair and began stroking himself, eyes on Jerome. Harley's eyes were wide and lust blown, his tongue flicking out every once in a while to wet his lips. After a while, his eyes fluttered shut and his head tilted back just a little as a small moan came from him.

Jerome shifted. He was getting uncomfortable with how long he'd been hard without being touched, and watching Harley be like this was not helping. Jerome really liked to be involved in sexual acts. He had gotten rather pouty anytime Harley was caught masterbating, and there had been an unspoken rule that Harley didn't really restrain Jerome for stuff like this. If Harley wanted to be touched, Jerome would touch him. They both preferred it that way. This was ridiculous, and frankly rude. Jerome wasn't going to give Harley the upper hand. This was a low blow and he wasn't going to let Harley get away with it.

As Harley continued though, getting more into it and completely ignoring Jerome, it was becoming increasingly hard to keep his mouth shut. Trying to play it off like he didn't care as much as he did, Jerome finally spoke up. It had seemed an eternity for him, but it had actually only been a few seconds and Harley had to swallow his smile to not give himself away. "Okay Harley, very funny. Let me touch you. I'm sorry I called you the other name. You know I can do this better than you can. Let me out." When Harley continued to ignore Jerome, the cuffed ginger raised his voice. "LET ME OUT!"

"Why?" Harley growled, eyes finally on Jerome again. "Because you told me to? Because you asked me to?" He stood, pulling his pants up again. "I'm not your little bitch Jerome, you're mine. You want to kill someone? Fine. You want to steal or break something? Fine! But you don't call me by that name. You don't mess with me, because I'm all you got. If you want me to leave, you ask like a big kid."

Jerome's lips twitched, slowly rising into a smile. "Are you actually mad at me?"

Harley grinned. "No, not really." They both cracked up, losing it for a few extended seconds. Then Harley cut off and Jerome faded into quiet, soft chuckles as Harley began to speak. "I respect you, J. My little joker." He moved towards the bed, caressing Jerome's cheek. The ginger leaned into the touch, his eyes closing. He fed off of the contact, as if it was a drug or he was starving and the gesture fed him. Harley smiled softly. "You gotta respect me too. You don't have to piss me off to get me to break you, joker. All you have to do is ask me nicely, like a good boy. Do all the bad things you want. But not to me."

A sigh escaped Jerome, and then he finally gave in. "If I behave will you let me out? I want you to touch me. Please."

That pleased Harley. "That's what I wanted to hear." He leaned back a little, eyes scanning Jerome's exposed body. "I will let you out. And then it's time to play for real." His eyes glinted with a darkness that made Jerome jerk in expectation. Needless to say, Harley didn't disappoint.

Story Tags: @wanna-plan-world-domination

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iwantthedean · 4 years ago

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Ma’lak

Summary: Dean helps someone close to him lock away her demons. Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 3130 Warnings: Canon divergence, implied smut, mental health issues, exorcism, angst. Square Filled: Late Night Call for @breakthezone Bingo (LOVE that I can tag now!) A/N: This was borne of a new thing I’m trying in trauma therapy. I hope you all can enjoy it, but please skip it if you think it might trigger you! This is a comfort for me, but I know it may not be that way for everyone. AKF/YANA. Huge thanks to @crispychrissy for making the ma’lak box GIF for me!! I appreciate it more than I can say! A/N2: You may see this again much later in a saga I’ve had running for several years now; that wasn’t how I started out with this in my head, but it quickly turned into that. Just putting that out there ;) If you think you know, shoot me a DM!

“I have an idea. Can you come get me?”

Dean was up and out of the bed in record time. “On my way. Stay there.”

As he pushed his feet into his boots, Dean’s mind raced. It was after midnight; he had been deep in thought about a recent case and hadn’t even realized he dozed off until the phone rang.

She had been on her own for months. Maybe even a year at this point? They talked at least once a month, but hadn’t seen each other since she left in the middle of the night — since Dean had let her go. Demons were dwelling within her and it took all of their strength and focus to keep them at bay. She had lashed out at all of them, more than once, and the last fight she and Dean had gotten into had almost come to blows; the thought of it made him sick to his stomach.

He put those memories and the bunker in his rearview mirror. A stop at the gas station put coffee in his hands and kept him going for the next few hours. Well, the coffee, and a couple rounds of Metallica’s best hits.

“Y/N?” he called after slamming the Impala’s door behind him. He walked carefully up to the isolated camper, catching that the door was slightly ajar. No lights were on and the place was deadly silent. He pulled the handgun from the back of his waistband and called for her again.

Still no answer. Carefully and silently opening the door, he aimed at the driver’s end of the camper, then back towards the bedroom — and right at Y/N.

“Fuck, Dean!” she hissed, pushing the gun away.

He rolled his eyes and clicked the safety before placing the gun on the counter. “You always leave your damn door open at all hours, Y/N/N? Any psycho would waltz in here and —”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Dean. Oh, and check your phone every once in a while. I texted you and told you I’d leave the door open and the hideaway made up so you could crash when you got here. You know, so you wouldn’t wake me up.”

With an exhausted, ironic chuckle, Dean held out an arm and stepped closer to her, but then immediately stepped back. “How are you with physical contact these days?”

“Ha. The last time I had physical contact was the last time you and I had physical contact. I keep to myself. Safer that way.”

Y/N flipped on a dim light over the sink and pulled a plastic cup from the small cupboard, filling it with water. She motioned the cup toward Dean after she emptied it, but he shook his head. She shrugged and left the cup upside down in the sink. She offered coffee; that he took her up on.

As she moved about the camper, Dean now took notice of all the things the moonlight through the couple of windows hadn’t allowed him to see in the chaos of his entry.

Her thin-strapped, cotton nightgown hung to her curves and conjured up memories of his hands running over her curves, his lips on her bare skin — was it possible for her skin to be softer now than it had been before? Her hair was longer and, maybe because he was tired, but Dean was having a hard time not carding his hands through it and tugging just enough to pull a whimper from her perfect lips. He had expected those demons swimming within her being to make her harsher, worn out, tired. Maybe she was all of those things, but it didn’t show when he looked at her.

“Coffee’ll be ready in a few minutes.” She said, turning back to him from the small machine. “Dean? You okay?”

He nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, sorry. It’s just, you know — for hiding out for so long and keeping those demons maintained, you look — you look good, sweetheart.”

“You’re a sight for sore eyes yourself.” Y/N smirked and hopped up to the counter. She looked down at her hands as her expression grew somber; sorrowful. “I know that a lot of things have happened, that we said a lot of things. I said a lot of things. This whole thing has been … it’s driven me to be a person I never wanted to be or thought I would be. I didn’t think about the consequences before I did it, I only thought about keeping everyone else safe.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I guess me of all people, I can’t fault you for that.”

One end of her mouth tugged up. “Have you forgiven me for all the things I said to you? For how far I let it go before I left?”

He stepped up to the counter, gently pressing himself between her knees. He caressed her face with his rough hands — her skin was softer than he remembered — and pressed the ghost of a kiss to her forehead.

“The only thing I’ll never be able to forgive is myself for letting you stay away for so long.”

Y/N’s head fell, as did her tears. Dean’s hands went to her shoulders, pulling her to him. The top of her head butted against his chest. His hands fell down her arms, his thumbs rubbing over her forearms; on her left arm, he felt the scar of The Mark, the thing that had pulled her out of life. Pushed her out. Whatever it was, she had been gone and he had missed her.

Dean cupped her face again, forcing her to face him. Her eyes were red from the tears, but still the same color he had always been able to drown in. Even the quickest of looks from Y/N had commanded his heart to skip a beat, and he had missed that feeling, too.

She sniffled. “I really missed you, Dean.”

“Missed you, sweetheart.”

The words were uttered against her lips, hanging in the air even as he pressed his lips to hers for the first time in too long a time. She whimpered, not the way he had imagined a couple of minutes ago, but in a way that told him she honestly had missed him as much as he had missed her. Maybe even more. The kiss quickly deepened under the pressure of the chemistry between them; the connection that had always been there. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his middle, holding tight and pulling herself against him as her tongue searched out his.

The urge to touch her hair became a need Dean couldn’t ignore. His fingers slid into her hair at the root before his hands formed fists and he gave the slightest pull. Her whimper this time was exactly what he had wished to hear when he was imagining the scenario earlier.

She gripped his jacket lapel again and used it to push him out of kissing reach. Her chest was heaving, one strap of her nightgown had fallen down one shoulder. Her eyes were wide, filled with both fear and lust.

“What if I hurt you?” she whispered.

“If this is how I die,” Dean replied, tucking his fingers under the strap and kissing the top her shoulder before replacing the strap, “then this is how I die.”

Y/N giggle and kissed his cheek. “Then take me back to bed, Dean. It’s been too long.”

Dean tossed off his jacket before lifting her from the counter. He kissed her soundly as he worked them toward her bed, thinking he couldn’t agree with her more.

Their activities still allowed for a few hours of sleep before they were back on the road toward the bunker. Dean had pressed Y/N for what she had in mind, but she wouldn’t tell him. He didn’t like it, but memories of past arguments that had pushed her away stopped Dean from giving in to his tendency to push the issue.

By the time they neared the bunker, the tension was radiating off Y/N like steam and smoke from an overheated engine. Dean pulled the Impala up to the front door and turned off the engine.

“You ready to talk to me about this?”

“Sam called me once since I’ve been gone. He was panicked.” She swallowed so hard, he could hear it. “When Michael was still possessing you, when you didn’t think you were going to be able to stop him, you went away for a while. To Donna’s cabin.”

Dean shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Is the box still here?”

“No. Jack’s soul was gone, we tried to put him in the box, Lucifer got to him. He blasted the box.”

She nodded. “But you could make another one? You know how.”

Dean drew in a breath and shook his head. “That box is not an option. All right? Me going into the ocean with Michael, that’s one thing. You spending eternity with these demons, with that Mark, is not.”

She licked her lips. “What if it was only the demons and the Mark? What if we could lock them away?”

“How’re we gonna do that?”

“Are you going to help me make the box?”

He met her eyes for the first time since the conversation had started. He pressed his lips into a thin line and reached for the door handle.

“C’mon. Let’s get inside. Sammy’ll want to see you.”

Sam was just as perplexed as Dean as to what her plan was. Y/N was only sharing bits and pieces with them, promising that when the box was done and she was sure the plan could be executed, she would tell them more.

Dean set to work right away. If there was something that was going to make this all go away, he wasn't going to be the one standing in the way of it. Y/N had promised him that if this worked, maybe they could put the whole thing behind them. She could come home and they could start new. He held on to that promise as he worked to complete the Ma’lak box.

The assignment she had for Sam was less physically exhausting, but still exhausting nonetheless. As far as Sam could find, there was nothing that would allow the Mark or even solely its effects from someone to be locked away for all of eternity.

“The Mark has to have a host.” Sam shrugged and pushed away the thick book in front fo him. “If there was an answer, Y/N/N, we would have found it when Dean had the thing. Before Amara, before — okay, well, a lot of things that you don’t need recounted.”

“Yeah, thanks for that. The difference, Sam, is that I didn’t take this. I — okay, you know how it happened, and I won’t recount that for you, either. Favor returned. My point is, if I didn’t ask for it, why do I have to keep it? Why couldn’t I force it out?”

Sam licked his lips. “I don’t think it works like that. And — and ‘force it out’? Listen, I want this to be over just as much as you and Dean do. I do. But I think you’re getting your hopes up about something that isn’t gonna work. I haven’t heard it from your mouth but I think I get where you’re going with this and I don’t think it’s gonna work. I don’t see how.”

Y/N looked around before taking the seat across from Sam and taking in a breath. She licked her lips and looked him in the eye.

“You still feel the demon blood in your soul sometimes,” Y/N stated. “You have dark moments, especially moments of anger, when you want to pull from that power. You want that darkness to take root and grow. You want it to be a part of you still.”

Sam stood from the table. “Stop it.”

Y/N stood, too. “I live with that darkness, multiplied by numbers we don’t comprehend, every day, Sam, and I keep it at bay. I’m that strong — strong enough to command this darkness out of me.”

His shoulder’s rolled back before he turned to her. “But how?”

Y/N’s hand raised, palm up, level with her waist. She curled her fingers up, and Sam felt his soul squeeze. He could breath, his heart rate increased only a few beats, but he could feel the last effects of the demon blood leaving his soul, his veins, his muscles. His whole being.

Black smoke started to appear between them, plumes shooting out in every directions. Sam’s brow furrowed, but Y/N’s face stayed calm and stoic. When he could feel no lingering drops in his system, Y/N still held the dark, polluted smoke between them, but pulled it closer to herself, until the smoke had disappeared into her body in much the same spot as it had been pulled from Sam’s body.

His jaw dropped. “How did you do that?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. One I day, I was in town to get groceries. There was a dark streak in this little boy and I thought about everything we’ve all been through, and I wished that I could take it away. I saw him again in the parking lot, and I had the thought again and that streak started to draw out of him, like I did with you. I’ve been working with it, strengthening the ability. I can take in small darknesses, like that one from that little boy, and pull it out later. But I’ve been letting them back out into the open. My own demons, the Darkness locked within The Mark? I can’t let those out into the open.”

“That’s why you need the box,” Sam surmised, “to lock them away.”

“I don’t know how else to do this,” she returned. “I can’t keep living like this. I finally had a family, and this bullshit took it away from me. I’m not going to take that laying down.”

Sam drew in a deep breath and gave a single nod. “Okay. Well, the lore isn’t going to help us. What else can I do?”

Y/N licked her lips. “If things go south — if I’m wrong about this — don’t let Dean came after me. Whether I’m alive or dead, you’ve got to keep him from coming after me. I don’t want him to come after me. No deals, no spells, nothing. This is my only option and if it doesn’t work …”

Sam stepped slowly towards her, remembering that sudden movements could sometimes trigger her. He reached his arms out, and Y/N accepted the hug he was offering.

Dean ran his hand over a warding on the box, brushing away some dust. He licked his lips and stood back.

“All right. I made the box. Now what?”

Y/N exchanged a glance with Sam, who gave her an encouraging nod. She told Dean about the little boy, about the dark pieces she had been pulling from people, and then from herself.

He raised his brow. “So, you want to exorcise yourself?”

“Essentially, yes,” Y/N answered quietly. “I know that it sounds crazy. I know that but if this is even potentially an option, I have to try it. If I don’t try this, or hell, if it doesn’t work, I don’t know how much longer … I just have to try.”

Dean’s eyes glassed over as he considered the part of the sentence she had left unsaid. “So, if this works, we get you back?”

Y/N shrugged. “As far as I can tell. I’ll be back to being me, anyway, and if you want me back, I’ll come back.”

“If,” Dean snorted. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

“I need you to open the box. And to close it when I tell you.”

Sam nodded. “We can do that.”

“Okay.”

Latin words dribbled from her lips in the form of a whisper as she placed her hands on the front of her ribcage, fingers sprawled. She closed her eyes as she continued to say the words.

When the words stopped, Y/N opened her eyes and set her jaw. She moved her hands slowly forward, pulled plumes of black smoke from her body. Agonized screams and angry growling accompanied the smoking, growing louder the further her hands moved out in front of her. The brothers could see her struggling to stay with it, but neither of them moved for fear of hindering the process.

She gasped in relief when the last plume joined with the others and she pushed the thick, black smoke into the Ma’lak box. The screams grew louder; Sam covered his hands with his ears to ward away the screeching. Dean stood firm at the lid of the box though, waiting for Y/N’s signal.

“Now!”

Dean let the lid slam shut before he quickly latched the locks. As soon as the box was secure, he turned to Y/N where she was on her knees on the floor.

“Hey, c’mon, you’re all right,” he encouraged, pulling her into an embrace. “Y/N, look at me. Tell me what’s going on.”

She leaned into his shoulder. “They’re gone. They’re all gone.”

Dean took her left arm and checked; the Mark was still there. “Y/N …”

“I know,” she answered, pulling her arm away from his grip, “but The Darkness is not in here. If that box is opened, she’ll come back. In the meantime, it’s like — it’s like an abandoned house. As far as I can tell.”

Dean’s head fell back in relief as Y/N continued to lean on him while she regained her strength. Sam went for a glass of water, which seemed to help.

“So where do we drop the box?” Sam asked.

Y/N shook her head. “I don’t want to know. If I feel the pull, I don’t want to know where to go looking. You take it, make sure it’s secure, and drop it somewhere I won’t think to look.”

Sam and Dean both agreed, but they weren’t about to take the box anywhere until they knew for sure she was good. A quick call to Donna and Jody had the two sheriffs making plans to come get the box soon and drop it somewhere none of the three of them would know to look.

Dean picked Y/N up off the ground, kissing her temple before pressing his cheek to hers. He knew that she might be able to walk by now, but, after everything they had been through, he needed to take care of her for a while, for his own sake if not for hers.

The Whole Shebang: @illisea @ashleymalfoy @mrswhozeewhatsis @ravenesque @feelmyroarrrr @atc74 @blacktithe7 @moonlessnight14 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @smoothdogsgirl @melbrandes @emoryhemsworth @deansgirl215 @calaofnoldor @sleepylunarwolf @chances-and-miracles @sandlee44 @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @carryonwaywardkansas

Two for the Money: @jayankles @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @jerkbitchidjitassbutt

#BTZ Bingo #dean winchester #dean #reader insert #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #late night call #ma'lak box #iwantthedeanupdates #iwantthedean's tag team #all my lovelies

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cherrypieships · 4 years ago

Text

the amusement park: chapter one

A/N: Hi all! This is my first fic posted here on my self ship blog! I’m really proud of this story, it’s gonna be a two-parter.

Ship: davey jacobs x pepper simmons (s/i), featuring my best friend V and my gf Khourey and their respective f/os, race higgins and jack kelly!

Summary: Some of the newsies head to Canobie lake's haunted house/amusement park. Pepper and Davey are the only non-couple.

The backseat of Race’s mom’s minivan was one of the last places Pepper wanted to be at 7 o’clock on a Friday morning. Yet here she was, awaiting their arrival to Canobie Lake Park’s annual Screemfest as she got crammed in next to Davey Jacobs.

Not that she disliked Davey. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Pepper liked Davey a whole lot. And that was exactly the problem. Here she was, in such close proximity to him that their knees knocked together every time Violet hit a pothole, harbouring a gigantic crush on her best friend. And everyone in the car knew beside him. And they were totally fifth- and sixth-wheeling on this trip.

It was fine.

Besides, Pepper was willing to endure a few hours pining quietly if it meant she could go on some sick roller coasters. So she sucked it up and tucked quietly into her seat.

Mickey turned around from the middle row and handed Pepper a piece of her chocolate croissant. “You cold back there?” She asked, wild red curls framing her face as she spoke.

After popping the pastry into her mouth, Pepper shrugged. “I’m fucking always cold.”

Jack tugged his hat up from where it rested over his eyes. “That is a fair point, she is always cold.” He said pointedly, and yelped when Pepper flicked the back of his head.

“I have poor circulation, dickhead.” She whined.

Race snickered from the passenger seat. “Good thing my dickhead doesn’t have poor circulation.” He quipped.

Though Pepper couldn’t see it, she could feel Violet rolling their eyes at their boyfriend. “I’m gonna file for divorce, Race.” They picked up their coffee and took a brief sip. “And I’m taking the kids.”

Beside her, Davey was digging around in the duffel bag he’d brought for the ride. He’d described it to Pepper as a ‘Minor Catastrophe Bag’, with a tiny first aid kit, nail clippers, some snacks, ibuprofen, pads, and a pair of tweezers. As much as she would have loved to gently bully him for being such a mother hen, she knew she’d be thanking him later through an inevitable headache. He straightened, finally, and emerged with a sweater. “Um, if you’re really cold,” He held it out to her. “You can wear this. It’s my backup but I’m pretty warm.” He said.

Pepper took the sweater in both hands with a gentle smile, trying to ignore the soft brush of his fingertips against hers. “You sure?” As much as she would love to immediately engulf herself in his clothes, it was Mid-October and she didn’t want to steal Davey’s source of warmth from him.

Like usual, he waved off her gentle concern. “I have my jacket and I’m wearing layers.” He explained, pushing the sweater towards her.

She took it in her hands, hoping and praying that the heat in her face wasn’t visible. “If you insist.” The teasing was playful, as it always had been. Their friendship had existed for years, the product of a few friend groups merging and discovering that they fit like puzzle pieces. Davey always gave up his cherry Starbursts to Pepper because they were her favorite. Pepper let Davey borrow her favorite poetry books. They spent summers at the pool together. Had napped, cried, laughed, celebrated together for what seemed like forever.

So why did wearing his clothes make her so much more flustered than anything before?

She slid the sweater on, enveloping herself in his scent- oh Christ she was dying- and did actually feel much better. Even though the dark blue didn’t exactly match her outfit.

Davey smiled at her. “When will you learn to dress for the weather?” He admonished gently.

“That’s why I keep you around.” Pepper said, rather than admitting that she was just forgetful and liked her outfit too much.

“Davey’s new occupation: Pepper’s coat rack.” Violet chimed in, handing their phone to Race to switch the song that was playing.

Davey sighed. “I’m really putting that college education to good use.”

The rest of the car ride went by relatively quickly, much to Pepper’s delight. They hopped out into the cool autumn air, cracked their cramped joints, and headed into the park. Davey thankfully left most of his supplies in the trunk of the minivan (save for the ibuprofen he’d managed to sneak into Pepper’s purse just in case), so they’d made it through security and into the place without much fuss as well.

Jack, ever the natural born leader of the bunch, snagged a map and immediately started planning their route for the day. He unfurled it in front of the group and, as Mickey curled into his side, eyed the pathways and rollercoasters thoughtfully. “So do you guys wanna start at the front and work our way back? Or the other way around?”

There was a beat of silence as everyone worked the thought over. “We should just head towards the back, I think everyone’s gotta start testing the rides first anyway.” Mickey piped up first.

Davey nodded. “Gives us more time.” He added.

They made the trek towards the back of the park, Mickey and Jack leading with the map.

Race sidled up beside Pepper and hip-checked her. “You been to these haunted houses before?” He asked, making reference to the night-time festivities. Once the sun set, the park released creepily-costumed actors to scare those who stayed, and previously blocked-off areas were transformed into small haunted houses. Truthfully, Pepper had never been to any haunted house, let alone ones set up at an amusement park.

So, she shook her head. “It’s my first haunted house, actually.” Something she’d confided in Mickey and Vi about.

Race feigned a gasp. “Well ain’t this a hell of a place to start!” He elbowed her, and she returned the gesture, their own weird little handshake.

“Are you serious?” Davey asked, his own elbow catching her shoulder, fucking ow, he’s bony.

Pepper nodded. “I was too scared when I was a kid, and then when I stopped being a baby, all that stuff with my mom happened, so I just never went.”

Davey hummed in acknowledgement, evidently eager to skip past the whole ‘my-mom-is-ill’ conversation. “Ah, well. If you need a buddy, I’m sure we’ll be left alone. Together.” He said, his head tilting to their friends, who had once again broken off into couples, leaving them to their own devices.

Shoving the impending smile down, she nodded. “I’m sure we will.”

“Well, we have a good, um,” He checked the watch on his wrist (the one with the brown leather strap that he wore with every outfit, even if Pepper told him it didn’t match, or that it was too clunky.) “Like, ten hours before we need to even think about that.”

She crumpled into a fit of giggles. “Perfect. I’m sure we’ll spend that time wisely.” She swatted his arm as he shoved his watch in front of her face.

---

They did not.

Six and a half hours later, the group stood in line at one of the concession stands, staring at the menu and nodding to the song playing in the background; some mid-2010s Kesha track that was making Vi go absolutely crazy.

Jack squinted at the chalkboard. “They don’t even have chicken tenders here?” He nudged Race. “They don’t even have chicken tenders here.”

Race nodded slowly, also squinting. Pepper wondered, briefly, if the pair needed glasses or if they were just trying to look contemplative. “Mickey’s gonna call it homophobic, you know.” He said.

“It is!” Mickey called dutifully from the table they had snagged for the gang to inevitably sit at. “I’ll take some cheese fries though!” To which Jack nodded and stepped up to the worker behind the plexiglass, beginning to list off the group’s orders.

Vi’s voice floated through Pepper’s ears. “Oh what a shame that you came here with someone,” they approached her, eyes closed and hands up by their shoulders as they got all the way into their performance. “My god, if they have candy apples at a stall somewhere, I’m gonna go buckwild.” They said suddenly, snapping out of their trance to stare at Pepper expectantly.

Before she could say anything, though, Davey stole the words from her mouth. “You are allergic to apples, V.” He chided, maybe more kindly than Pepper would have put it, but she was willing to overlook it for the sake of the way a small smile pulled at his mouth.

Violet dropped their hands. “Only a little bit.” They argued.

“A little bit allergic.” Davey repeated, and Pepper pressed her lips together firmly to fight off the grin at the exasperation in his voice.

“To apples, yes.” They nodded, and, evidently done with arguing, turned to keep Mickey company at the table.

Davey turned to Pepper, disbelief crossing his features. “Can you believe-”

“Yes.” She cut him off. “Yes I absolutely can believe it.” Pepper said, digging through her memory of the times V had pulled some similar shit; eating eleven mozzarella sticks despite their lactose intolerance, buying a Panic! At The Disco vinyl despite wanting Brendon Urie dead, and spending $40 on a Funko Pop figure of Spiderman Noir for no real reason other than some guy at a convention told them to.

Jack turned to his friends. “Okay I did the ordering, someone else has to do the collecting.” He announced, shoving the receipt with the order number on it towards Davey, who had inadvertently become Second In Command. Then, with a signature Jack Kelly Smug Smile, he stalked off to where V and Mickey were seated, Race following behind.

Great, Pepper thought, another conveniently timed moment alone with Davey. Briefly, she wondered if her friends had planned this ahead of time, and then she came to her senses and realized that yes, of course they had. Those conniving little weasels had been conspiring to get Davey to like her since senior prom.

She still remembered the way Mickey had shoved Davey at her when a slow song came on that night. Work Song by Hozier had drifted over the speakers, and V’s elbow caught her in the ribs as they growled a furious “Dance with him or I’ll fucking kill you.” and skipped off to sway with Racer. Pepper had stood on the dance floor, gaping as she watched Jack wink at Vi. Those two never got along about anything.

Davey’s hand had entered her field of vision, skin almost glowing under the light of the mirrorball. He’d smiled sheepishly, admitted that this was one of his favorite songs, and asked if she’d like to share a dance.

The strange thing was, she didn’t actually like Davey before that. At least she thought she didn’t. It wasn’t until she was cradled close to his chest, breathing in the smell of his soap and some soft, powdery cologne he frequented, that she found her heart pounding and her palms going clammy. And when he’d started humming against her hair, one hand in hers and the other around her waist, she knew she was absolutely fucked.

She’d started thinking about it and, yeah, it made sense to want to be with Davey. Handsome Davey, who sometimes made her laugh until soda came out her nose, and whose affinity for children’s cartoons made him the ideal conversation partner. Three years later, she was still in love with him.

And it was all her stupid, evil friends’ faults.

Back in the present, Davey tucked his hands in his pockets, his lips twisting as he lost himself in thought. “We’re gonna have so much shit to carry.” He murmured, exasperated at being the ones left behind.

“We sure are. At least you and Jack ordered drinks, so that’s more stuff to spill.” She twisted a long strand of hair around her finger.

Davey scoffed good-naturedly. “Yeah well you made me leave my water bottle in the car so I needed to be hydrated somehow.”

Pepper kicked at his shin with the toe of her sneaker. “And a caramel hot chocolate is the best way to stay hydrated?” She grinned up at him, watching him tuck the receipt into his back pocket and start moving for the pick-up window as the drink in question was called out.

He hummed in assent. “You bet it is.” He picked up the paper cup, taking a short sip and licking at his bottom lip. Pepper ignored the urge to run her thumb across it.

She must have been staring, because after a second, Davey held the cup out towards her. He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. She loved chocolate and caramel, and always ran cold. He knew there was no way she’d have turned down a sip if he’d offered, so he must have decided to save his breath. She took the cup in her hands, the warmth emanating from it seeping pleasingly into her palms, and took a sip as well, subconsciously hoping to taste more than the drink. She licked her lips.

Davey watched her intently. He opened his mouth, ready to say something to her, when the order bell rang out. “Order sixty-nine!” The college girl behind the counter announced.

“Oh, fuck yes.” Race cackled from the table. V leaned into him, trying to hide their own laughter as Mickey gave him a high-five.

Pepper sighed, she should’ve known that would be their luck. The pair of them moved forward, Davey pushing in front of her to grab the tray before she could even reach for it. “I got it.” He mumbled, holding onto the plastic tray like a nervous Disney-Channel-Original-Movie teenager. “Grab the drinks, don’t worry about it.” And then he smiled up at her, a closed-lipped little smile that made her heart race as she picked up Jack’s orange soda.

Behind her, someone clicked their tongue. Pepper turned, making immediate eye contact with an older lady with greying black hair and soft folds in her skin, who gave her a knowing smile. “And they say chivalry is dead. You got yourself a sweet one, honey.” She said, then winked.

Pepper’s jaw went slack trying to think of a response. She turned back to Davey, whose eyebrows were so far up his face that they were basically in his hairline. “Oh God,” he said simply, “Um, thank you, ma’am.”

The woman laughed softly, leaned over and patted Pepper’s shoulder as if she knew something Pepper didn’t, and then disappeared into the line to order food.

There was a long, silent moment, where Pepper was racking her brain, searching every corner for something to say that would shift the air, move the mood from awkward to playful with a joke of some sort. She looked at him again, and he was staring at her, unblinking. There was a funny look on his face- regret maybe- his eyebrows low and his eyes a little soft. She wondered, distantly, if he was realizing that she was in love with him; if it was a look of pity-

“Hurry up with my goddamn cheese fries!” Mickey yelled, their hunger obviously taking control over their inhibition.

Without a second thought, Pepper turned on her heel and walked to where their friends were, leaving Davey and the unnerving encounter behind.

#pls drop a like/rb if you read! i'm really proud of this one!#davey #olive talks #my fic #the amusement park

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years ago

Text

Just A Dream Away

Chapter 6/13 read here on ao3!

for @harringrovebigbang

accompanying art piece by @monochromegee! check it out here!

~~~~

The more Steve thinks about someone being stuck on the other side, the more he has his heart set on doing something about it.

He hadn’t been a hero to anybody last time they were dealing with the Upside Down, too caught up in his own troubles to do anything useful, and it had cost him the love of his life. He was going to guarantee that he stepped up this time. With more time to think, he defines a plan, “I think you’re right, I think we should get ahold of El. That way we can at least figure out who to go to next.”

“Okay, well, that sounds great and all that you have a plan, Steve, but you’re not calling anybody with this burnt up phone, and I’m pretty sure this is too time sensitive to write a letter.” Robin motions to the broken phone where it still hung from the base.

Steve thinks for a moment and snaps his fingers, “The neighbor would let us borrow hers.”

That’s how they end up in the elderly neighbor Dorothy's half of the duplex, Robin entertaining her in the living room with any random story she could think of, and Steve in the hallway a little ways down, talking low so the unsuspecting neighbor can’t hear what he is saying. To get in, they’d just told her that Robin's phone had just been cutting out, but Steve needed to call his sick mother until they could replace it.

Of course that isn’t true, he instead dials the number Joyce left for all of them to get in contact with her if need be, “Mrs Byers?”

On the other end, he hears a lot of noise in the background, at first worried about a repeat of last night, until the sounds made themselves clear as not doomsday static, but business. There’s a television turned up loud, noise from the kitchen like someone was cooking, talking carrying from a distant conversation, before Joyce’s gentle voice cuts through it, “Hi, honey. How have you been?”

He skips the formalities, trying to be fast for the sake of whoever is trapped, and to get it out before the neighbor got bored of Robin and started snooping, “I need to ask you something.”

“Of course, Is everything alright, Steve?” There’s a hint of concern in her voice he has to swallow before he decides what his answer will.

He decides just to rip the bandage off in one go, “Can you put El on the phone?”

Instantly her demeanor switches. They both knew Steve had no reason other than an emergency to want to talk to her daughter, because the other kids would have done it themselves, don’t need Steve as their messenger anymore, “What is this about?”

“We think there is someone in the Upside Down.” He hears her cover the receiver, and call to El in the next room, a hint of urgency to her tone. There was the sound of the phone being passed between two people before El's small voice rang out through the receiver.

“Hello?”

He again skips a proper greeting, full of too much nervous energy to worry about being polite, “Is there any chance at all that someone could still be in the Upside Down?”

It takes her a second to respond, but her answer is firm, “The gate is closed.”

“I know, but do you think we could’ve closed it on somebody?”

“Why?” She sounds unsure of whether or not she should trust him, so he explains to her, “The phone rang and Robin said it sounded like a bunch of static, and like someone was talking but she couldn’t hear them. It blew up like it did before when Will called.”

There’s a long pause and whispers in the background, like she’s being coached by Joyce, and her answers comes slowly, “Without powers I can’t help. But I have an idea.”

Another pause and her mother takes the phone back, “We’ll come back to Hawkins and figure it out, Steve. See what you can do until we get there.”

The line goes dead before he can thank her or ask how long he could expect to wait, so he sighs and hangs the phone back up. When he returns to the living room, Robin stands up from the couch and the neighbor asks politely, “How was she?”

He furrows his eyebrows, has too much on his mind and has to remember the cover story they came up with before he can answer, “She’s alright. Thank you, Dorothy.”

They’re halfway to the front door when she stops them, “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you two, I have the city’s number if you need it.”

Robin smiles politely, “What for?”

“Well, that streetlight outside. It’s been flickering on and off these past few nights, I thought it would be bothering you two being right outside your window and all. I know it’s been driving me up the wall.” She chuckles, not realizing the significance of what she just said to them.

They exchange a look between themselves, both having gone a little pale.

Robin recovers quicker, so she forces a smile back onto her face, significantly less genuine this time, and steers Steve outside with a guiding hand on his back, assuring the neighbor before shutting the door in her face, “That’s alright, Dorothy. We hadn’t noticed actually.”

~~~~

This end of the neighborhood is so poorly lit, but Billy can’t afford to get cornered like this.

He’d taken off from the area around duplex apartment, leaving behind the big monster and running until he finds more street lights, though in a poor backwoods town like Hawkins, only a select few streets nearby downtown or the rich neighborhoods were taken care of, so it’s not until he’s all the way at the other end of the street, almost by the intersection to the next neighborhood, that he finds another dull and flickering street light.

It’s then, looking up hopefully at the dull, flickering light that he realizes this area is somewhat familiar to him, though it's still much farther out than his usually traveled routes between Cherry Lane and Loch Nora.

When things were normal, Billy was so bitter about leaving his home, so he hadn’t bothered getting familiar with the entire town. If it was out of his way, it wasn’t his problem, Hawkins was only ever supposed to be a temporary home for him anyways.

Even now he still wasn’t acquainted with the area, because over here past the neighborhood where he found Steve and Robin is the dark zone, where the storm clouds are thicker and the fog covers what little light there is in this place, and he normally wouldn’t dare stray over this way.

Right now though, there’s a monster that’s already tasted his blood on his heels, so it doesn’t really matter where he ends up.

He follows a long dirt driveway towards that one streetlight, beacon of hope that it was, when suddenly it hits him. This is the Byers’ house.

If there were literally anywhere else for him to go right now other than that house, he’d go there, guilty memories he’d been mostly forgiven for still sitting heavy in his heart, if not just because now all the people he’d hurt that day were still living without him, making new memories and probably remembering his as that same asshole that barged into the Byers family home that night.

But, he’s not out of the woods just yet to be picky, because there’s a trail of blood from his injured arm leading the monster to this exact spot, and that is a monster that already had the taste of his flesh. He’d have to take whatever he could get.

The second he opens the door, under the twisting vines and ash and mold covering almost everything in the house, it’s obvious that this isn’t the same house he’d burst into two years ago, none of the floral couches and knitted Afghans and Merry Mushroom canisters that made for that warm, homey feel of the place that had made Billy feel queasy when juxtaposed with what he’d thought was happening in that house before Steve apologized for lying, and he for kicking Steve’s ass, and gave him a new explanation that was, as he now knew, still a coverup, but didn’t seem so predatory.

Now there were all leather arm chairs, dirty work boots by the door, and empty beer bottles on the kitchen counters. He could tell from the way this house is decorated alone, at least if he imagined it without all the rot and death, that this house had been bought up by some unhappy old man, and he almost wants to be bitter, that he’s going to die in a place that looks like the embodiment of the unhappy future he was damned to even if he made it out of this hell, until something catches his eye.

On display hooks, positioned perfectly atop the mantelpiece, there is a proudly displayed shotgun.

Billy almost trips over the clutter-covered coffee table running to go get it, a feeling like hope in his chest, but when he pulls it down, his heart sinks a little. He can tell from the weight that it isn’t loaded, it’s just some old bastards trophy.

He worries for a second that it isn’t even a real gun at all, but a snarl from the other side of the door reminds him it doesn’t matter if it shoots, it’ll still bludgeon. A weapon is a weapon.

Still, he quickly turns the place over, clearing off that coffee table, feeling along the underside of the mantel for a hidden box, and digging through the side table drawers, in there finding old pills and candy wrappers, spare change and, in the very last place he looks, a box of shotgun shells.

He grabs it, but he doesn’t have time to be relieved, because on the other side of the door, there’s a snarl accompanied by a scratching sound, and he knows that that thing outside is taunting him. Trapping him in so it could toy with him before finally killing him. But he’s not going to let that happen, not now.

He couldn’t say how much time had passed down here, but he had been hurt and starved and damn near froze to death, and he had still survived. All this time it had been for himself, to prove he could do it and maybe, just maybe someday reach the other side, but now he had a purpose. Now he knew his Steve was right there, just out of his reach. He can’t give up now. He won’t.

He takes the gun into the kitchen, where he’ll have a minute if the monster does lose its temper and break in early, sliding to the floor with it so he’s level with where the monsters face would be once it turned the corner, gritting his teeth and lowering the barrel of the gun, his good hand shaking badly as he tries against his nerves and the bite making him weaker to load the shells in both barrels.

At the same time, just as he expected, the monster decides it’s done playing with its food, hitting into the door until the hinges crack and it swings open at an off angle. Billy curses under his breath and tries to load faster, in his panic accidentally catching sight of the bite wound on his arm, and it’s bad. As in, he can’t believe he’s still conscious right now bad. But he tries not to think about it and just locks the gun back in, cocks it, and aims it straight in front of him.

His hands are shaking so badly he’s not sure he could actually fire the gun or hit the monster even if he did, but surprisingly, he doesn’t have to put that theory to the test, because the monster never comes around the wall. Claws scratch into the damp carpeted floor in the room parallel to the one he’s in and eerie chitters and growls fill the disturbingly quiet air. Billy always wondered if that sound was them communicating, or if they were mocking him. Making his skin crawl so he’d let his guard down, be afraid as they tore him to shreds.

But then it just stops again. The house totally silent except for the monster's horribly ragged breathing, and then it leaves. Retreats right out of the front door, and from the rustling sound that carries from outside, back into the woods.

Billy breathes out a heavy sigh of relief, tilting his head back against the wall, exhausted. Above his head he notices a cross, just a little golden thing dangling right above his head, and he laughs bitterly. Some blessing this is.

Because, while he didn’t get viciously eaten alive, for which he supposes he could be grateful in some ways, here he still was, after so many days he couldn’t count them anymore, he was still trapped and alone with monsters hunting him. Now suddenly throwing Steve and his friend into the mix, and he’s got himself the perfect mix of hopelessness and heartbreak and dread making this all the harder.

With effort, he stands again, this time not making the mistake of leaving his weapon behind.

The adrenaline is slowly wearing off, and his arm really starts to demand his attention. It stings like nothing he’s ever felt before, a horrible sensation that makes his whole arm feel painfully numb. He just hopes the medicine in this house hadn’t succumbed to the elements like most things he scavenged for tend to anymore.

By some miracle, the old man who bought the place up still hadn’t finished unpacking, and right at the bottom of a cardboard box full of old towels is an almost completely preserved first aid kid, fully intact other than a couple of rotten bandages, but those wouldn’t be of much use to him right now anyways.

He tries to remember the rules his dad had taught him the first time he cut too deep, rules which he’d later passed down to Max when she was being nosy after witnessing a fight, following him around while he was trying to get his face to stop bleeding.

Clean it, medicate it, bandage it.

Normally when he was telling it to Max, he’d tack on to the end to go get help if she was bleeding more than a bandaids worth, but that’s not really of much use to him, so he pushes his sleeve up, grateful it had already been rolled up some and hadn’t been torn, and assesses the damage.

He can’t see any bone, which is good enough news, but he can’t see much of anything else from how badly he’s bleeding, which is not so good. He can’t even get a fair judgement of how bad it is with all the gore covering the actual wound, so he walks to the sink to wipe some of the blood away.

The water quality down here varies from day to day, not that he’d ever drink the stuff, he’d a thousand times over raid a monsters den for a single water bottle than put that stuff in his body, but sometimes he’d test it just to check if it was clean enough for him to try and wash away any of the dirt and blood on him.

Sometimes nothing would come from the faucet but disgusting black sludge. Today he was lucky, the water, if you could even call it that, cloudy and speckled, but not unusable. Besides, he would rather get some weird alien infection in his arm than bleed out anyways.

Max’s watch is caked in gore so he quickly runs it under the water too. It’s probably going to fry the stupid thing, and the thought of its familiar ticking being gone does admittedly make Billy a little uneasy, but he’d rather return the watch broken than stained with his blood.

Because that’s really his biggest goal. To keep surviving and make it out of wherever the hell he is so he could give Max back her watch and Steve back that stupid bandana he probably didn’t even notice was missing, and his dad back his jacket. Shove it in the asshole's face and tell him, ‘Here’s your jacket back you old bastard. Mind the blood stain on the collar and the tear in the shoulder. I fucking missed you, dad.’

He's able to get the bleeding to stop with rags, and once the wound is clean, he slathers the bite in as much polysporin as he can find, mostly to mask the heavy smell of blood lingering on his skin that would act like a beacon for the monsters miles away until this hole in his arm heals. He finds clean enough bandages and wraps it until he can barely move his wrist, tugging his sleeve back down over them. He decides not to clean up all the blood, so there was something to distract them from finding him once he leaves.

Healing is supposed to be the hardest part, and Billy had always thought that was bullshit- the hardest part was the betrayal when his dear old dad cracked his bones and left bruises on his skin when there are real monsters out there in the world that don’t give you a hug and an apology when it’s over- but now he knows for sure that isn’t true.

The most important thing is finding Steve again, and figuring out why he couldn’t see or touch him, and could only just barely hear him, but could feel his presence, almost tangibly.

Billy steals another two boxes of bullets, keeping the gun close at his side, and he sets back off for that duplex.

#harringrove big bang 2021 #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #robin buckley #tw blood #tw gun mention #ej writer #story by ej!#so excited to get this chapter out #because look at that amazing art!!!

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acertainsomeone · 4 years ago

Text

Finding us- EdSer one shot

If he had any doubts before, this incident cleared them altogether. Eda Yildiz had not only taken over his holding and life but his dog as well. He couldn't come to terms with the fact that his best friend, his dog, whom he had brought up since he was a baby, had turned his back on him. Ever since he proposed to Selin, Eda had asked Seyfi bey to get Sirius back to Bolat place. Not that she didn't love him anymore, she found it appropriate that the dog was returned to his rightful owner. She didn't wish anymore for Serkan to treat her worse, if fate planned, his memories will come back otherwise she was not going to desperately beg him to choose her over Selin. It wasn't about pride. Her love was much more than self-respect. She realized that Serkan was scared of her because she managed to strike chords of his heart that were nonexistent for him. If she pushed him further, if she hovered over his head, he would be irked and god forbid if something serious happened to his health, she won't be able to forgive herself.

Sirius wasn't home, this was twice in the last three days that he had managed to escape. Serkan's pride was too much to call Eda and ask her to pay a visit to Sirius. Usually, he came back wagging his tail, it wasn't hard to spot him around but this time Serkan panicked. He checked the entire neighborhood and every possible place where Sirius could've gone. He had lost his memories; he couldn't afford to lose him.

"Where are you oğlum ?" He drove across the seats of Istanbul in apprehension. His heart skipped a beat thinking of a much worse possibility. Sirius wasn't among those dogs who get along with people, forget strangers.

What if somebody tried to harm him?

It wasn't hard to come across such crackheads, who would hurt animals for their pleasure.

"Alo" Serkan answered his phone in panic upon seeing Eda's name on the screen. She was going to chide him enough for being so careless.

As if he wasn't to be blamed in her eyes already

"No need to wander around the streets, Sirius is with me. I'm sending you the location. Hadi gel." Her voice was devoid of any emotions, she didn't let him speak and hung up asap.

Did he make a mistake?

What was this place? And why would Sirius come here? He wondered while climbing the steps of the apartment. He entered and found a wounded Sirius lying in Eda's lap. He was asleep, and Eda was caressing his head.

"SIRIUS!" He cried in panic, and Eda glared at him for being so loud.

"Shhhh you're gonna wake him."

'What happened?" He asked incredulously. Sitting beside Eda, caressing his only best friend with affection.

"I think he ran from your place - to find me. He would've expected me to be at the park. Few children hit him there. Thankfully, I was there for a walk and spotted him immediately."

"What park? I checked all places where he could be."

"There are places that became Sirius's preference, if not yours." She rolled her eyes

"Anyways Serkan, tell me in all honesty, can you take care of him or not? I can't risk his life like this."

He was about to fight back with a 'he's my dog' but he knew that would've turned into a nasty conversation. He owed a thank you to Eda.

"Teşekkürler Eda."

Eda looked at him plainly. It was hurting him to see her eyes without that love he was used to seeing ever since he came back. Why was it bothering him? He pushed her away, that's what he wanted.

"You stay with him tonight. He needs to rest."

"What is this place?" Serkan asked

"Home." She sighed in reverence. "I mean your home, you shifted here."

"Neden."

"I'll leave that story for your fiancé to tell after all she had been telling you everything, and you only believe her."

Eda picked her bag and stood up. "There's food in the fridge. Sirius's food is by the coffee table. And- your room is upstairs." She seemed in a hurry. He felt she was only telling him this to fulfill an obligation. He could feel her restless. But why? He had no idea

Serkan examined his room carefully. He was amazed Selin hadn't told him about moving out. The bedroom screamed that he was in a relationship with her Eda Yildiz.

Yok, the bed was made and broken lamps were fixed.

It had their memories. Her memories and belongings. Belongings that he would've never allowed in his premises.

Her clothes and undergarments were piled up along his. Her toothbrush and other toiletries were neatly placed in the bathroom. It didn't seem that they were placed there recently.

A weird sensation was pulling him towards those things. He ran his fingers through her belongings, having flashbacks. They were vivid.

For the first time, he heard her cackling voice too. It was blurry but even his bones could tell that they were in bed, and – he was doing things to make her laugh.

It can't be me

He shook his head in denial.

Serkan opened a drawer and found a USB. It wasn't the USB that grabbed his attention but the flower and note attached to it. That was his handwriting

"For us to remember all the good times- just in case."

***

"Serkannn!! Would you stop? Look at my state." A sleepy yet annoyed Eda shrieked at Serkan, who was prolly filming a video. He chuckled at her words, not paying attention to whatever she said.

"Eda I know how you look like without clothes." She threw a pillow at his head, and the video disrupted. "Watch out!"

"Are you filming us naked in bed?"

"Hayır, I'm filming this for us to remember that you can't stay mad at me for long." He replied in amusement. This was one of those nights when she had been mad at him but they made out in less than a moment.

"You think too highly of yourself Serkan bolat."

"I've got the brightest star for myself. Shouldn't I?"

"Can you stop this? I have to get up Serkan!"

"How about first you record a message for an 80-year-old Eda, who might've forgotten me?"

"How are you sure that it can't be you."

"I love you way too much to forget you. More than you could. We can bet on that." He winked at her shamelessly

"Tamam." She wasn't going to fight him on this. Eda moved forward cautiously wrapping her naked self with the duvet and kissed Serkan on the tip of his nose.

"This message is for old, yet madly in love Mr. and Mrs. Bolat! No matter how hard the times are, no matter how grave misunderstandings can be, no matter how bleak the road of hope is, we will find our way back, together."

"Always." He said with a smile and pulled her into a kiss. The video was for them so it didn't matter if it was all being recorded in that state.

***

We don't choose our parents, we don't choose our family, and at times life doesn't allow us to choose our partner as well. He would've never in his right mind made an illogical choice of falling for Eda Yildiz.

Yet he did

Did he make a mistake?

Because all that he had given her in this relationship was pain, so far.

The video brought back a bunch of memories. Their first kiss, first fight, first night, and the last goodbye.

Serkan was mercilessly driving on the empty roads of Istanbul. It was raining heavily and he was drenched. This rain could've made him sick, terribly

But did he even care anymore?

He had hurt the most important person in his life. He ruined everything

How could he forget her of all people? Serkan always claimed to love Eda more than she could. His love was fragile

He sobbed mercilessly, wishing to hit the car somewhere and end this pain. Events of the past few weeks circulated in front of his eyes. The way he was indifferent towards her. The way he resisted her touch and broke her heart all over again.

I never deserved her

He smacked his head against the steering wheel. His tears blocked his vision and he had no idea that he was driving beyond the speed limit with an absolutely insane state of mind.

Suddenly it grew all dark. He couldn't see anything. It felt that the steering wheel was moving in its own direction

All he could hear was noise. Eda's cries and his broken promises.

He was sitting in the police station absentmindedly. Eda was completing the formalities. They hadn't had any eye contact so far else he would've started crying right there. She took him by his arm as if he was lifeless.

"Serkan noldu? You were absolutely fine when I left." She asked him apprehensively, careful not to touch him. "Do you want me to call someone? Selin-"

She stopped immediately. He looked at her for the first time.

The gaze

Eda caught her breath. It was him.

It was really him

She knew that man

Those eyes, they weren't of a stranger. Those eyes recognized her, and she had seen love for her in them. But why was she seeing something stronger than love right now? Anguish

"Serkan!" She gasped unbelievingly. Her hands wrapped around his face possessively as if he'd leave this time if she didn't hold him tight

"I-" he was struggling with words. Should he tell her how scared he was when the pilot told them that the plane was going to crash? How he cursed himself for leaving her behind? Or how much he loves her? Where do I begin

Eda sobbed with happiness. She did not know what to say anymore. He was there, right in front of her. Her Serkan. Her robot bolat

The man who loved her

They were sitting at the shore. Looking blankly at the sea. The waves were calm but their hearts weren't. He had held her hand, and the grip was so strong that it was hurting her a bit but she didn't complain۔

"Eda" he broke the silence

"I don't even have words to ask for your forgiveness. I made another mistake, I broke your heart once again, didn't fulfill my promise, and became the reason for your tears." He was stuttering۔ words weren't leaving his mouth easily whereas Eda kept on looking at him with tears in her eyes

"What I did in the last few weeks can't be forgiven. I've hurt you. I won't beg you to return back to me. I can't make mistakes repeatedly and expect you to stand by the road waiting for me. I-" He stopped and his voice broke further

"Eda you might not want me back in your life but can you please forgive me? One last time? I won't be able to live with the fact that you hate me. Just don't hate me please"

He was begging her, his hands joined together in front of her pleading for forgiveness. His eyes were screaming in pain. He won't be able to bear that hate in this heart. If she stopped caring for him, he won't even bat an eye, but accepting the fact that she despises him? Serkan Bolat would die.

He knew he was being selfish. Yet again, he was thinking of himself. But he was selfish, he never deserved someone as selfless as Eda Yildiz. He disgraced their love, he ruined their relationship, and now if she wished to discontinue this fragile relationship, he won't subject.

"I failed our love Eda. I failed you." She could tell that he was not able to breathe properly. Eda's heart sunk the moment he adjoined his hands in front of her. With each pleading, it felt as if someone was squeezing her heart mercilessly.

"Fate failed us Serkan." She sniffed between her sobs. Her hands cupped his face immediately. She wanted to protect him, she wanted to curl his masculine self among her soft frame. She wished to provide him that comfort and safety his heart seek for the last few months.

He was asking her to forgive him. He feared that she hated him now. How could she?

Serkan had become more than a partner for her, he was a part of her. We don't detach ourselves from what lies within us.

He looked at her disbelievingly. Eda wiped his face with her palms. No more crying. They had enough, more than enough. The pain they had endured was enough for a lifetime.

"We'll leave. Somewhere far away, nobody could find us. Away from this mess, this hate, this chaos. Serkan we have each other. We are not going to let them ruin our happiness."

Was she for real?

"Tamam?" Eda pestered. He nodded in return, unable to say something.

"Seni cok seviyorum." Serkan mumbled only for her to hear as she adorned his face with delicate kisses.

"I have so much to tell you." She sighed in between.

"Where are you taking us?" He did not know why he was asking this. It didn't matter, the question came out of his mouth involuntarily.

"We are going to look for phoenixes." He did not know what that meant but he need not ask. As long as she was there, he didn't have to worry about anything. Eda embraced him protectively like a child. He was in his safe haven.

He was finally saved from the crash.

#eda yildiz #edser #serkan bolat #sen çal kapimi #sen cal kapimi #sen çal kapımı #sen cal kapımı #turkishdizi #hande erçel #kerem bürsin #edser fic

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stefanmikaleson1864 · 5 years ago

Text

ONE WILD NIGHT PART 7 !!

Taglist :

@daniig95 @jackiehollanderr @a--1--1--3 @beth-winchester21

Today was the day. The day you had been dreading for the past week about going to see Buck today.

There was so much to say and you didn’t know to approach it. I mean do you just blow up and say everything or do you just pick and choose what you wanna say.

It was hard because every time you thought of a million reasons why you hated him you just couldn’t.

You always came up with a million reasons to defend him. That he had been through such a traumatic experience.

He had a girlfriend who he obviously cares about. It wasn’t such a cut and paste and situation.

So maybe now things would take a turn but obviously didn’t get your hopes up on anything.

So you tried to keep an open mind on things and hope just maybe that you would get a happy ending.

So you got dressed, got in your car and headed down to the pier. It was a quiet car ride down and when you got to the pier it was a weird erring feeling you got. It was like a shiver down your spine and you shook it off thinking it was just nerves.

You walked up the pier where Buck said to meet and your heart skipped a little seeing how happy Buck was playing a shooting water game with Christopher.

It made you think of your own baby and how things could be. That maybe things could turn out okay.

You walked over and when you got there they were done. Christopher saw you first and he ran over and hugged you.

He smiled at your belly and rubbed it and whispered “Hi little baby to it” You hugged him back and told him the baby said hi back to him and then he ran over and told Buck.

Buck walked over to you and smiled and gave you a hug and you hugged him back. It was a quiet silence for a moment before Chris yelled he was hungry.

You both were hungry and walked over to a little bench and Buck went and got over and got some pizza for you guys.

It was actually a nice lunch by the water and you decided to be the better person and let the grudge go and try and be a better person. Which felt like a little pressure off your chest was gone. It was nice everyone was getting along.

After lunch you walked around before Christopher ran off to join the line for a kids coaster and it gave you and Buck a few minutes to talk.

Surprisingly he was the one to start at the conversation.

“Look, I really want to apologize for not being around. Things have been hard for me and I'm not making excuses but things have been crazy for me. I feel like I'm trying to balance two different lives

. The life i had before and the life i have now. I thought once this big crazy thing happened I could just adapt and jump into this situation but it's hard. I feel like so many changes are happening and i want to not feel all of these things but i can’t.

There were so many times i just wanted to call you and see and be there but then I would be with Allie and I would think about the relationship i have with and to be honest it was easier i didn’t have to face the feelings. I was having.”

You thought about what he was saying and it made sense for you. I know we had all these little feelings it was a really hard situation and hearing him say these things made you feel like if you could go off and escape you could but you couldn’t and that’s what you had to make him know

. Yeah it was hard but he could have texted back.

He could have called you and you were all alone. It was such a hard feeling you wanted so bad to let go but then at the same time that part of you still couldn’t do it.

“ I know how hard things have been for you and i’m sorry i wish i could go back and change things for you but i can’t and i had to learn how to adapt to what was happening i mean i am growing your baby inside of me.

I try and try to let go but it’s so much harder than you think. I just thought things would be different.”

It went back to being quiet after that. A few seconds later Christopher came back being happy he could ride the ride.

You walked a little bit after that. You could tell the mood had shifted and it was becoming more awkward.

Until a little bit later when you and Buck was sitting at a bench and Chris was taking a break from the walking and was sitting with some kids eating some ice cream.

Buck then again started the conversation again. Thank god because you didn’t know what to say.

“ I truly am sorry for everything that happened. I wasn’t expecting anything to go back to my own ways. I told Allie everything and she said she knew sense the day of the accident. She was just being like me hoping we could just ignore the situation and obviously things weren’t always going to work out between us. Look I know I have been ass i really have been. I am so sorry I wish I could go back and change this i can’t and i know now that i can’t just ignore things like you have been. I am truly sorry i know you just can’t forgive me right away but i’m hoping we can try. I don’t wanna be like my dad, I wanna be better. If there is anything I can do for you. Just let me know or anyway i can fix this please just tell me.”

Gosh all you did was think today. It was crazy. I mean you thought today would have been hard but not like this.

I mean isn’t this what you wanted to just to move on and be happy and be able to put things behind you and not feel so alone anymore. I mean the man was crushed by a firetruck.

“ Yea I know I'm sorry I should have been a little more considerate towards everything you had been through.

I know things are messed up right now and it can all of a sudden just be fixed or me just automatically be over it but sense we are going to have a baby together I think we can try and work things out. I would like you to be around more.”

Maybe things were going to be okay today after all. This was the best to just move on and be okay I mean hell you were going to have a baby you couldn’t act like one.

You guys was enjoying the rest of the day and it was actually nice you forgot about all that craziness and it felt good. Things didn’t feel so deep anymore.

You guys were now looking down at the water. It was so relaxing and such a pretty view to be looking at the water.

The fun was interrupted though when work called you and asked if you could come in because one of your co workers was sick and they were short handed.

You really wanted to say no because you were having fun but you needed the cash.

So you went on and said your goodbyes and Buck said he would come by tomorrow and he was watching Christopher again.

You guys made plans for a lunch date at the park . You were pretty excited for it.

When driving to work all of a sudden a whole bunch of cars in front of you swerved and crashed into each other making you slam on the brakes and crash into the car in front of you.

Luckily it wasn’t that bad. You got out and saw Athena and May and went over to them.

They were surprised to see you and you the same to them.

“Hey what got you over here ? Athena asked you

“I was down at the pier with Buck and Christopher, what happened here?

Right when Athena was about to answer you May yelled out there was a Tsunami.

You felt like your heart dropped into your knees. You tried calling Buck a few times but nothing and it only made you feel worse.

Your mind automatically went to the worse why did this always happen to you why couldn’t you had one normal day where something went right.

Buck was going to be okay right I mean he had to be okay right ??

Authors Note: Let me know what you think ? DO you think Buck was forgiven so fast ? Also do you think next week it should be Buck’s POV Next chapter hope you all enjoy

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