#but yeah she'd come to my house and drag me out the front door screaming

[thewritersaddictions]

Drabble- Joel Miller: Birthday Time

Joel had a birthday today regardless of him not yet telling me I knew that secret inforamtion. Now that we had been in Jackson for a whole year. Tommy had gotten comfortable with his older brother being around, and with me being around.

He was happier then he probably let on that Joel had found someone to be with. We both knew how hard losing his daughter had been not that there were many stories shared between the two of us.

Ellie had saved him, and Joel had saved me. Ellie had finally found some sort of stablity. Joel and I could see the smile that would grow on her face as kids her age came knocking on our front door asking if she come out and doing something totally legal with them.

I had asked Tommy just a few months ago when Joels birthday actually was. "Tommy?" I called out his name in the mess hall. "Hmm, Y/n what can I do for ya?" He answered as he closed the distance. "I have something important I need to tell Joel but I want to do it on his birthday. So, when is that?" I asked, the cold weather was already growing in Jackson. My three layers and little gloves that made my hands warm were keeping me comfort as I waited for Tommy to answer.

Brows turned down, "He hasn't told you?" Tommy asked, I rolled my eyes dramtically. "He told me bullshit, I don't believe him sayin' his birthday has already passed" I said tugging at my gloves. "Yeah he has a tendency to do that, well let's see" Tommy looked up towards the roof, looked like he was counting in his head. "This month actually hmm… somethin' like the 26th, he's turning somethin' like fifty-seven. Does that help?" Tommy asked, curious as a black cat. I nodded and placed my gloves back on my hand.

The months were hard to keep track of sometimes, and if you got lucky you'd find something that would drag you right into the time period you'd need. Well I had that. I was on a clock for the next seven months at least. I walked home, and waited until Ellie came back from hanging out with her friends.

"Ellie I have to ask you to help me in the kitchen please!" I yelled out, "Kay be there in a second." Ellie came trotting, "I need you to help make a cake for Joel, it's his birthday soon." Her face bloomed with exctiement, "Really! We have everything we need? For fucking real" I smiled and nodded my head.

Cooking with Ellie was 'exciting' She was a choatic baker. Floor and sugar laid across the counter top, and egg shells had somehow ended up in the batter mix. "I need one more favor from you?" "Hmm?" "Can you see if the town has any birthday candles?" She saluted me and ran off grabbing her coat before slamming the door. For the time she was gone the cake baked and gave the house a new and refreshing smell of warmth and love.

As the oven dinged and the door slammed I knew it was Ellie. Catching her breath, hands resting on her knees. "I… Icould only fucking find like a few.." She muttered trying to catch her breath. I took them from her hand and kissed her forehead. "That's fine Ell." We waited together, until the cake cooled and I could ice it.

I told Ellie about the secret, knowing she'd be far to excited about it to let me say in front of Joel without her knowing first. "Ellie, I have a surprise for Joel. Do you wanna know it first?" I asked, her browd kintted together. "What kind of surprise?" I cleared my thoart. "I'm pregnant." I said simply, confusion then exictment, then happiness. "Oh hell, Y/n I'm gonna have a little sibiling." My tears started to prickly with tears, then Ellie was hugging me.

I placed the candles in the cake and waited for the second slam on the Jackson house door. "Ellie, Y/n?" Joel screamed out, "You just wait right there, old man." Ellie screamed out. The heavy footsteps stopped, "why?" I laughed, and Ellie giggled. Ellie walked out first, turning off the living room light and I walked behind her with a few lite candles ontop the cake.

"Why did the lights go out?" Joel muttered, "Oh you stop it, today is an important day today." I said softly. "What are you two up to now?" He asked trying to hold back his own laugh. "Fucking open your eyes!" Ellie screamed when I got close enough to Joel.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JOEL." Ellie and I shouted. "How'd you know… did… who told you it was my birthday?" A few questions came out of Joels mouth. "Blow out your candles will ya, I wanna slice of that shit." Joel rolled his eyes and looked at me over the flames, blowing out the candles. The dark took over the room once more, but Ellie was quick to flick the lights on and grab the cake from my plams. "Careful Ell." "Yeah, yeah I want a slice." She walked to the kitchen leaving just Joel and I alone. "Tommy told me." I said softly, as Joels arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me in. His lips were cold and a little chapped but I didn't care. I kissed him back with purpose. "I missed you ya know." Joel mutters agasint my lips.

"What did you wish for baby?" I ask Joel, he thinks for a moment and puts his forehead to mine. "For a family with you, but I already have that darlin'. I've got you and Ellie that's all I need." Joel says. I back away just ever so slightly. I look Joel right in his eyes, bitting my bottom lip.

"What about if we added another to our little family?" I asked, scared now that maybe Joel didn't want this baby we were going to have. "One more wouldn't be so bad, but I'm not getting any younger, darlin'." Joel said dragging me back into his chest. "Good" I muttered, "Because I have something to tell you." I felt Joel tense agasint me. "Hmm" "I'm…" "She's pregnagnt with a baby and shit." I heard Ellie scream from the other room. Joel looked over at her, then down at me pressed agasint his chest. My cheeks warm with embrasmessment. I nodded my head.

Joel smiled, his eyes brighting up somehow more, and he reached down bring his warmed up lips towards mine. Kissing me softly. A large warm hand landed on my lower stomach. "How far along?" Joel muttered softly, just between the two of us. "I'd say two months." Joel smile only grow.

"A baby and a birthday." I hummed along with him, "Hey you save me and my girl a slice, Ellie." I heard Ellie scoff, but bring out more plates.

Completed on: 05/24/2023

Posted on: 06/21/2023

Last of Us-

[amspams]

Intoxicated

A/N: This one's a little longer.

TW: Swearing, substances, vomiting

It was currently two a.m. Tiffany had cried herself to sleep after a big fight with her husband. She thought things had finally gotten better between the two of them. But apparently she'd been stupid to think so.

She tossed and turned restlessly on the mattress. This was the third time she'd woken up that night. She was worried sick. After the couple's fight, Charles had grabbed his jacket and ran off. Tiffany wasn't sure when or if he was coming back at all. The thought of losing him once again terrified her.

She got up from their shared bed - or what had been shared, as his side was empty now - and walked over to the closet. She opened it and looked at her clothes. Then she looked at Chucky's.

...

Her fingers grazed the soft fabric. Surely he wouldn't mind? She thought, and threw on one of his white tees. It was a little tight on her, as Chucky was a slim guy, but it still fit her and she looked good.

Tiffany quietly made her way down the stairs, careful not to wake up the twins. Then she sat down on the couch in front of the family TV. She sighed. Where was he?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2.37 a.m. She'd almost managed to fall asleep. However, loud banging brought her back to reality. Who the hell was knocking on her door at this hour?

Pissed off, Tiffany grabbed her pistol from the cabinet and stormed to the entrance. She shoved the door open and pointed the gun at the person. "Whoever you think you are, just know that-"

Tiffany was caught off guard. "Chucky!?"

"Heya, sweetcheeks," he said, slobbering over his words as he stumbled towards her. Tiffany caught him before he could fall. "Damn, my bad. Anyways, look at this cool shit I found."

Chucky waved a car's side view mirror in front of her face. "Ain't it a sweet find?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, where did you get that?" Tiffany asked, snatching the item from his hand and inspecting it. How he'd been able to break it off the respective vehicle was beyond her.

"Uh, dunno. It's a lil cracked though. Think I could sell it?"

Tiffany was baffled. "What- no! Are you drunk?"

"Nah," Chucky said. "I wanna tell ya something though."

"Oh god, what did you do now?"

Chucky scratched his head. "I ain't sayin' I did it or anything, but."

"But?"

"Pretty sure someone spewed on the sidewalk."

Tiffany stared at him blankly.

"What? It wasn't me!"

Chucky's face then paled.

"Oh hell no. C'mon, to the toilet, right now," she said, and dragged the man into the house.

Just before they would reach the bathroom, Chucky decided to stop and throw up anything he'd had left in his stomach from the day before onto Tiffany's favourite white rug.

She suppressed a shriek of utter horror and guided him into the bathroom instead.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3.42 a.m. Chucky sat sprawled on the cold floor infront of the toilet. He watched as Tiffany frantically scrubbed the mat with a sponge, soap and water in the bathtub.

"Man I feel like shit."

Tiffany lashed out. "Oh yeah? How do you think I feel!?"

"Why are you yellin' at me. It's not like I did it on purpose," Chucky muttered.

Tiffany ignored him and continued scrubbing.

Chucky then got up, staggered over to her and looked over her shoulder. "Geez, I wouldn't wanna wash that shit for a hundred bucks."

Tiffany sighed.

"I don't think ya should waste anymore of your time on that."

"God, just shut up," Tiffany said. But deep down, she knew he was right. There was no saving that rug. She'd just have to buy a new one.

"Ugh, why can't you just be responsible for once!?" Tiffany screamed. "We have kids now goddamn it. You can't keep doing this shit. Do you want to end up like your father?"

Chucky scowled, and Tiffany could see a hint of sadness in his eyes.

She let go of the rug and wrapped her arms around her husband. "I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to say that."

"It's fine."

"No it's not. I shouldn't have used that against you," she said. "Listen, how about this. I'll go throw out the rug and then make you something to eat. You must be starving. Meanwhile, you can take a bath."

"Alright."

Tiffany rolled the rug and watched as Chucky stumbled into the tub. "Sweetface, you need to take off your clothes first."

"Huh, why?"

"Oh my god, just take off your fucking clothes."

"Geez, woman. No need to get all worked up."

Tiffany then left with the rug.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later and after all of that, Tiffany stayed up to make Chucky some swedish meatballs because the devious bastard refused to eat anything else. She's just that sweet.

[dirt-grub]

o_o

[ssa-thotchnerr]

A Certain Hopelessness

Aaron Hotchner x Daughter!reader

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, violence, swearing, sad!hotch

a/n: some sad Hotch stuff for your angst needs!! Also, there is a creepy unsub here, just a warning. This is set in around s7 and the reader is 15-16

word count: 2.1k

—

There was a feeling of hopelessness that had settled within the BAU over the past 2 days. A feeling of helplessness that was most felt by Aaron Hotchner, who'd been listening to his daughter screaming in pain, begging for him to come and save her. The whole team had the same thought in their head;

They couldn't come and save you because you'd been hidden so well.

But that didn't mean that they weren't going to try, they would try their hardest to find and save the little girl they'd watch grow up for years. But they also know that they couldn't save every single person, they just hoped that you wouldn't be that next person that they couldn't save. No one had even tried to get Hotch to move from his position at the round table, he'd told them that he wouldn't leave you, even though you had no way of knowing that he was there.

He would always be with you.

—

You'd pulled your knees up to your chest to try and obtain some body heat, since sitting on a cold, concrete floor of a basement where it was always constantly breezy didn't give you much of a high temperature. You wished that you hadn't left school early, maybe then you wouldn't be in your current situation.

"Good morning," You looked up at the door at the top of the stairs in fear, seeing the shadow of your kidnapper standing in the door. You winced as you pushed yourself into a corner, trying to make yourself as small as possible. He laughed as he stepped down the creaky stairs, and you saw the silver glint of a knife in his hands. "I hope you slept well, you got a long day ahead of ya'."

"Pl-please don-don't hurt me, I-I won't try to run again! I-I promise," You stuttered, fear filled eyes looking up at him. Through the little light in the basement, you could see the malicious grin on his face. "I'll-I'll do whatever you want, just-just please don't ki-kill me." You begged.

"Oh honey, I don't know if you got this, but I'm not gonna kill you, mainly because I wanna hurt your daddy," He said. "Make him feel like the awful person he is."

"This is about my dad?" You asked him, letting yourself relax a tiny bit. He nodded and crouched down in front of you, pulling you forward by the collar of your no bloodied hoodie.

"Damn right this is about your dad," He snarled, pushing you back into the corner roughly. "Don't you feel awful when he leaves you and that little brother of yours own your own? But then again, he worries about what you'll do to the only child he cares about, he couldn't give a shit about you." You blinked and couldn't help but furrow your eyebrows, feeling your heart sink. You shook your head as you looked up at him.

"Wh-what?" You asked quietly. He chuckled at your confusion and obvious hurt, his plan coming together. He was reversing everything you'd ever known, he knew that your dad loved you and Jack equally, but he could easily make you believe that your dad hated you with every single fibre of his being. He knew you were easily manipulated, and he knew exactly what to say to get you upset.

"Don't act like you don't know, darling. Your dad despises you, he hasn't even got that team looking after you," He said. Your eyes filled with tears as you thought about being left with this man a minute longer, but it hurt even more to think about that your dad didn't care about you enough to look for you. "They left on a case this morning, he told them you didn't matter."

"You-you're lying," You didn't know if you were telling him that he was, or you were trying to convince yourself that he was. "My-my dad wouldn't leave anyone." You said. He chuckled and came closer to you.

"Well, maybe you aren't anyone, you've never appeared to be to your dad," Tears leaked from your eyes as he'd finally, truly broken you down. "Why are you crying? I haven't even started hurting you yet."

—

Hotch couldn't bare to watch this man hurl abuse and untrue thoughts at you much longer, he couldn't watch you be broken down anymore. He shut his eyes as he heard you start screaming, presumably in pain. There was a knock on the door, Hotch spun around on the chair he was sitting on to see who was there.

"Sir, we think we've found a possible suspect on who has Y/N," Garcia told him. "Based on what he'd said in the video earlier, we found that he believes your a bad father to her and Jack, and that she'd be better off with him," She said. It didn't take a criminal profiler to see the hurt flash on the normally stoic Aaron Hotchner's face. "So, taking information with males that had lost a child, we found Craig Brock, he lost his daughter Leona in a car crash last year, And she shares a very, very striking resemblance to your daughter,” Garcia watched as Hotch took in what she was saying. “And with that, Reid determined tha5 he wants you to feel the same helplessness that he had felt when he lost his daughter.” She finished, sliding a picture of the girl across the table to her boss. Hotch took the picture and saw the resemblance, he sighed. He didn't want you to share the same fate as this girl, he didn't want to lose you.

"Do you have an address yet?" He asked.

"I'm working on it sir, but you should have her back by the end of the day," Garcia said, smiling at Hotch, who gave her a small sliver of a smile in return. "You should probably turn that off, or at least go home and see Jack, if anything happens with Y/N or  our Unsub, you'll be the first to know." Hotch sighed as he turned the TV off, turning the volume down and standing up.

“I never thought the day I’d be taking orders from you would come, Garcia,”

—

You grunted as you finally built up enough strength to rip the sleeve off of your hoodie so you could wrap it around your waist where you had been slashed. His words had echoed in your head since he’d even muttered them, did your dad even care about you? Were the team even looking for you? Hell, were they even in the country? You broke down into tears again, your blood coated hands coming up to cover your mouth. They fell back down to your sides when the door was yanked open, almost coming off of its hinges.

“Get up!” He snarled, huffing out in anger when you pushed yourself further into the corner, making yourself as small as possible. “I said, get up.” He practically growled. You sat still, crying out in fear when he grabbed the collar of your hoodie and pulled you up onto your feet roughly.

“Okay! Okay! I-I’m sorry,” You whimpered, holding your hands out in fear. He dragged you up the stairs, you crying all the way up as the pain from your wounds shot up.

“Looks like I was wrong about your dad not caring for you, he and his team are on their way here,” He said in your ear, his arm snaking around your neck and then his free hand holding a gun to your temple. You were shaking, your entire body trembling with fear. “He’s not gonna know what to do when he comes through that door, you’re cut up like a piece of paper.”

“He’ll probably fucking kill you,” You snarled. He was taken back by your sudden change in attitude, and righted his arm around your neck and pushed the barrel of the gun closer to your head.

“Anymore of that, and I’ll put a bullet through your skull,” He said in your ear.

That shut you up quickly.

It felt like hours before the door creaked open, and from the back room, you could see that Emily, Morgan and Reid were entering the house.

“Help! Help!” You screamed, only for a hand to be clamped over your mouth and to be thrown to the floor. His foot was on your neck, a gun pointed between your eyes. Emily, Morgan and Reid all cornered him, their eyes watching as you struggled to breathe, coughing and gasping as you tried to bring air into your lungs. You were beaten black and blue, and covered in blood, they almost didn’t recognise you.

“Craig Brock, let Y/N go,” Emily said calmly. “We know what happened to Leona, and we know that there was nothing you could do to help your daughter. Do you really wanna put another father through the pain of losing their child?” She asked him. In a moment of hesitancy, he removed his foot from your neck, allowing you to cough and then slide away from him. In what seemed as though a move of panic, he shot down at the floor, narrowly missing your head, but just clipping the side of your ear. A ringing noise deafened you, and you screamed.

—

Hotch felt his heart drop as he heard a gunshot and then a scream. Emily had ordered him to stay outside, she didn’t want him doing something that he would end up regretting. Minutes later, the front door opened again, only this time you were there, Spencer’s arm around your waist to support you and your arm around his shoulder. Walking out of there, you looked so small and scared. There was no way that Hotch couldn’t run towards you, gently taking you from Spencer.

“Da-daddy?” There was a small smile on your face as you saw the blurry figure of your dad. Hotch smiled in relief and nodded, arms going around you gently so’s not to disturb anymore of your cuts or slashes. “You-you came.” You stuttered.

“Of course I came, I wasn’t gonna leave you, honey,” He assured you. You couldn’t properly hear what your dad was saying, but you could make it out. “Alright, let’s get you to the hospital.”

“Can you carry me?” You asked, holding your arms out to him. Hotch nodded and lifted you gently, holding you close like if he let you go, he’d lose you once again.

-

“Can I see Y/N yet?” Jack asked his dad. Hotch smiled as he nodded at his youngest child, who was clearly eager to have his older sister back. Hotch was getting Jack from school while you were asleep at home, with every door and window locked to improve your safety.

“Yeah, she got home this morning after I dropped you off at school, she’s been missing you too,” Hotch told Jack. When they got home, Jack practically shot upstairs. “Jack, do not go into Y/N’s room.” Hotch called up to him. Jack sighed as he waited for his dad to come up the stairs.

“Can I go in yet?” Hotch laughed as he nodded, opening the door to your room and sighing at you when he saw you were now awake, Greys Anatomy playing on your TV. “Y/N!”

“Hey bubs!” You cheered, smiling at your brother as you pulled your brother up onto your bed. Hotch sat down on the end of your bed and took the TV remote turning it off. “Dad.” You whined.

“You’re supposed to be asleep, Y/N,” He reminded you. You sighed as you flopped back onto your bed.

“Can I stay here?” Jack asked, looking at your dad. Hotch shook his head.

“No, Jack, Y/N has to try and get some sleep,” He said. You pulled Jack to sit beside you and you both pouted up at your dad, who sighed as he shook his head. “Fine, fine.”

“We love you, dad.”

—

[sofreddie]

High School Reunion 2

Summary: Someone at the reunion has a big mouth.

Characters: Jensen x Reader, Jared

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 2,087

A/N: Inspiration struck out of nowhere and this piece was born. I have a very rough outline for a small series, maybe about 6 parts? We'll see. It's gonna happen randomly, no planned schedule for this one.

PART 1

Y/N bit her lip in excitement and saw a message from Lana. She immediately opened Skype to call her best friend…and thank her.

"Hey you! How was the reunion?" Lana smiled as her face appeared on screen.

"Oh my fucking God I can't believe you!" Y/N screamed, though it was mostly excitement as she blushed profusely.

"So…I take it you had a good night then?" Lana grinned cheekily.

"How could you not tell me you met Jensen Freaking Ackles?! I thought we were friends?" Y/N pouted dramatically as she plopped back on her couch, phone still in hand.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep it from you?" Lana screeched in response, "You remember my last night at the convention, I went to that place for dinner that had the amazing burger?"

"Yeah, I remember. You said you loved the place, that it was a perfect ending to the trip," Y/N remembered, "Now I get why."

"Ok, yeah, so I'm sat at the bar with my burger and a beer and he comes in and sits with a chair between us. I instantly recognized him, but was trying to keep my cool, you know. But he remember me! From the photo op! So we just got to talking and you had just split with Chase and I was so worried about you-"

"Oh Lana, you didn't," Y/N groaned.

"I was just venting about how much I hated that douchebag and what he did to you and what you were going through and how I was so worried about the reunion but thought it could be a good thing for you after Chase-" she rambled on, her words quickly tumbling forth as she pleaded her case to her best friend.

"You're not mad, right?" Lana asked timidly.

"How can I be?" Y/N shouted, "He walked in there all suave and shut down my high school bullies - who were trying to start some shit let me tell you-"

"No!" Lana gasped, "Amanda?"

"And the others," Y/N sighed, "And they were trying to cut in on me and I was gonna run, I'm not gonna lie," Y/N chuckled lightly, "But then he was just there. And she introduced himself as my boyfriend….Oh my god, Lana! What if that gets out?" Y/N sat bolt upright on her couch in a panic.

"Whoa, Y/N, calm down," Lana insisted, "More important than that…he introduced himself as your boyfriend?!"

"Lana!"

"I'm just sayin'-"

Y/N sighed dreamily, "Then we danced. Then he took me for a drive and we parked up at the spot and ate burgers while chatting and watching stars," she sighed again, as if it were a scene from a romantic film she had just watched.

"That sounds like a date," Lana helpfully noted.

"I thought that too!" Y/N squealed, "But that's just the fangirl right? I mean, there's no way."

"How many times I gotta tell you you're a catch, woman?" Lana laughed, "I'm not surprised at all. In fact, I'm taking credit. You're welcome," Y/N groaned once more and Lana chuckled.

"Did I mention we exchanged numbers?" Y/N added with a grin.

"And now I hate you," Lana huffed.

"Yeah, love you too you meddler."

Y/N sighed happily to herself once more as they ended the call. She tossed her phone on the coffee table as she relaxed back into the couch. Her eyes fluttered closed as she replayed the evenings events in her mind.

She had to be dreaming. There was no way this was real, right?

Too tired and content to carry herself off to the bedroom, Y/N laid down on the couch, settling into the plush cushions and dragging the throw from the back of the couch to cover herself, falling asleep quickly and dreaming of shimmering green eyes.

Jensen groaned as he slowly came awake to the incessant ringing and chimes of his phone. He opened his eyes, grabbing for the phone and peeking at the time.

6am.

He and Y/N were out past midnight. After he made it back to the hotel, he had spent the better part of an hour sipping on a beer as he thought over the night he had with her.

He wasn't sure what compelled him to talk to Lana in the bar that night. He could tell she was a nervous fan, and he remembered her from the photo op, just as nervous and shy. But after a beer or two with her dinner, she relaxed and their conversation flowed. It was nice, to be chatting away with someone new, different.

When she went on about her best friend Y/N, Jensen felt something. Apparently the way if affected her friend was severe enough to have Lana in real turmoil over it. Jensen knew what that was like. He'd worried over Jared a time or two just the same.

When Lana gave him a picture, however, his heart skipped a beat. She was beautiful, with a charming smile. But he could see her eyes were sad and guarded.

When he realized the reunion was a few hours drive and a few days ahead of his schedule to be at another convention, he decided to make the stop to see Y/N at the reunion. At the very least he could chalk it up to a memorable fan moment.

Jensen rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he reluctantly sat against the headboard, checking to see why his phone was blowing up.

It took only a quick glance through the various calls and text and emails from various persons all talking about the same thing. Jensen opened the text thread from Jared, scrolling through the messages and clicking on a picture that was include.

It was him and Y/N dancing together at the reunion the night before. She looked as amazing as he remembered. Her smile was bright and genuine, but so was his. Apparently word had spread from the reunion that he and Y/N were together. That's when he remembered introducing himself to those girls as Y/N's boyfriend.

He wasn't so bothered by the turn of events, which surprised him. He had decided the night before that he wanted to ask her out on a date. Their chemistry was too intense to not pursue.

What bothered him was how she'd react. They'd literally just met and had a friendly, albeit great, evening and now she was possibly going to be bombarded with paparazzi and everyone in her business.

So much for that date.

He knew it was early, but he wanted Y/N to hear from him first. He opened the new message thread between them, seeing her text from the night before and smiling once more, before typing out his message.

Hey, Y/N. Hope you slept well. Was hoping to talk to you about something.

He sent the message, noting the time, and figured he'd give it some time. He didn't know her schedule, or anything about her really. With a groan, Jensen hit the green button to return one of Jared's missed calls.

"Dude!" Jared exclaimed as he answered after one ring, "I've been trying to get ahold of you for two hours!"

"Yes, Mom, I'm aware," Jensen said with a yawn.

"Did you see the picture?"

"Yeah."

"And?" Jared pressed for more, "Why aren't you freaking out about this?" Jared scoffed. Since his last major relationship ended, Jensen hadn't been with anyone really. An occasional date here and there for an event. But he hadn't seemed interested in anyone at all, and was quick to shut down any insuinuations to the contrary.

"I guess I should of seen it coming," Jensen shrugged, "I did introduce myself as her boyfriend after all."

"You what?" Jared was shocked, trying to wrap his head around it, "Why would you do that? Is there something you aren't telling me? Have you been dating her for a while? Who is she anyway?"

Jared fired off the questions in rapid succession like an excited puppy.

"I gotta talk to her first," Jensen said, "I'll see you at the convention in a couple days. You can interrogate me then."

"I want all the details."

"Don't you always?"

Jensen ended the call, taking a deep breath. He felt so stupid for what he did. He wasn't sure why he did that other than to shut those girls down. He really hated bullies.

He decided to get dressed and grab a couple of coffees on his way to Y/N's house. A quick look at his social media had told him that picture was blowing up. She was bound to find out sooner rather than later. He had to tell her first.

Y/N slowly roused from her deep sleep on the comfy couch, hearing an incessant rapping coming from her front door. She stretched, reaching for her phone on the coffee table and finding it dead.

She rolled her eyes as she threw off the throw, climbing from the couch and shuffling to the door and she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

She flung open the door, the morning's cresting light just bright enough to assault her eyes. It took her a second to focus, but then she saw Jensen, a small smile on his face and two tall coffees in hand.

"Jensen?" she asked, so very confused and wondering if she was still asleep.

"Hey, uh, I know it's early. But I really needed to see you this morning."

The smile he gave was sweet, but she could tell something was up. Was he worried that maybe she'd go blabbing about their night together? She'd never do that. But she guessed he didn't know that.

"Sure, come in," she smiled warmly, stepping aside and gesturing him into her home. She accepted the coffee as Jensen passed it to her on his way in. She shut the door behind him, taking a whiff of her drink before taking a long gulp, closing her eyes and sighing at the flavor.

"So, what's up?" she asked, shuffling on her feet, "Thanks for the coffee, by the way."

"You're welcome," he smiled, now genuine and inviting and Y/N's heart stuttered slightly at the sight, "I was hoping to talk to you, about last night."

She shook her head, "I won't talk about it with anyone, I promise. Well, other then Lana. I had to call her last night. Yell at her a little," she blushed.

He laughed, nodding his head, "No, I get it. But I wasn't worried about that or anything," he was quick to correct, "Actually, someone else already did."

"Did what?"

"Someone got a picture of us on the dance floor last night and might have said I mentioned I was your boyfriend," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh," she responded, clearly shocked and not sure what to say.

"I just wanted you to hear it from me first, you know? Before seeing it online or whatever."

"Online-" she echoed, her eyes going wide, "So, you can just post a Tweet or something that it's a mistake."

"Okay, well, to be fair, I did introduce myself as your boyfriend to those other women last night."

"Yeah…why'd you do that again?" Y/N smirked despite herself.

He shrugged, "Seemed like the right thing to do. Shut 'em up didn't it?" he grinned, "Besides," he chanced, stepping closer to her," Feels like we had a date last night."

She blushed hard, ducking her head before meeting his eyes once again, "Yeah, it did."

"And I was hoping you'd like to do it again."

"Really?" she asked. She couldn't help the dreamy look in her eye. She still couldn't believe this was happening.

"Yeah. So if you say yes, then we'd be dating, which is practically boyfriend and girlfriend," he explained casually, "So I think we should just keep doing what we're doing and let it ride. What do you think?"

"I think you might be a little bit crazy," she nervously laughed, "Let's start with a second date," she grinned, seeing him brighten up, "And go from there."

"And the press?" Jensen chanced.

"Let them think what they wanna think," she shrugged.

"You're freakin' perfect," he chuckled, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, even though she still had bedhead. He smiled at the cuteness of it.

"I should go freshen up!" she realized, seeing him look over her disheveled state, "Uh…be right back." she rushed off down the hall and Jensen laughed to himself.

He had a good feeling about this.

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@fangirlxwritesx67

RPF:

@smoothdogsgirl

JENSEN TAGS:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

@slamminmine

[xneens]

love me, hate me - part one

Warnings: swearing, angst if you squint, mild violence

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Who knew Ransom would get so worked up about a few stolen beers?

Or: In which he's a sucker for you but those were his favorite beers.

He didn't know why he put up with your shit. If you had been anyone else, you'd be working at a dead end job that barely covered your bills instead of walking around the mansion in your brand new Lois Vuitton purse, Jimmy Choo heels that screamed for him to fuck you, and a tight dress he wanted to tear off.

You even had the balls to call him Hugh, a name he specifically reserved for the help. When he informed you, you had rolled your pretty powdered eyes, sneering at him for being an inconsiderate asshole before asking why he wasn't calling himself Hugh due to the massive help sign that was disguised as his cashmere sweater.

Ransom didn't know if he wanted to hurt you or make you his. He preferred the latter but with the way you were pushing him, he wouldn't be surprised with himself if you somehow found yourself in the backseat of his car, tied up and awaiting for him to fuck you senseless. If you had been anyone else, he would ruin your life without hesitation.

He tried to hate you, he really did and usually, it wouldn't be hard for him to hate someone. Most of the time it barely took him a glance for him to decide to loathe the person. But as he tried harder to hate you, forget you, and ignore you, the more you wiggled your way into his every thought. Even then he couldn't hate you. It made part of him want to ditch family gatherings where he knew you would show, being Meg's best friend, and another part of him was exhilarated.

You on the other hand dreaded being dragged into another Thrombey's family gathering where it all ended in arguments and racists comments. The only people you were able to stomach were Harlan, his adorable nurse, Martha, and of course, your best friend Meg. Whenever the conversation began to look like a shouting match, the two of you would sneak away to get high with the maid, Fran.

Ransom was an asshole, a hot, smoldering asshole with enough snarky remarks that would make any sane person hang themselves. You knew he wasn't a fan of yours, which was only good news for you; you hated him, too. The expression "there's a little bit of good in everyone." applied to everyone except him, not that you weren't surprised. Truth to be told, you wouldn't put it past him to kill a family member if they pissed him off enough.

With the number of jabs you made at his expense, you were shocked he hadn't ruined your life yet. Maybe you had a death wish dangling over you, or maybe you just liked pushing him but you made it your little mission to ruin his evening since yours would be the second he stepped in the room.

Meg nudged you with her elbow, leaving a sore spot on your ribs. You gave her a dirty glare, looking up from your Instagram feed. She motioned to the large mansion ahead, the car slowing. "Okay, the plan is to get drunk, but not enough for my drunk relatives to notice and once they're having one of their dumb-ass debates, we sneak off to Fran's room and smoke a few. That sound good?"

Stretching, you nodded, tucking your phone away. "Yeah, that's fine. Remind me how I ended up spending Thanksgiving break with you, again? What did I ever do to deserve such a punishment?"

"You crushed your parent's wishes on becoming a lawyer, instead became an Instagram model, and the holidays with them are too long for you to hear how their daughter could've convicted criminals instead of posting bikini pics," Meg replied, grinning at your sarcastic pout. She stopped the car right beside her mom's. "Come on, it won't be that bad."

"That's what you said last time. Do you not remember how that little reunion ended?" you asked, opening the car door and getting out. The little gravel on the cemented driveway crunched under your new heels, making you grimace.

Meg shut her door, grabbing her purse. She waited at her side of the car and you both walked up to the door. "Actually, I don't. I'm surprised you can especially with all the weed you smoked."

Rolling your eyes, your mind wandered to the man who had killed your buzz. "Your asshole of a cousin ruined my buzz just by opening his mouth. He could be so much hotter if he never utters a single word ever again."

"Please stop talking about Ransom, it's making my lunch come back up." Meg whined, her feet trudging up the steps. Your heels clicked on the wooden porch. "Which reminds me, he kept asking if you were going to be here. Be careful, he might have a little trap to humiliate you in front of my family. If that happens, just knee him in the balls, and we can go to Cabo or something."

You made a face, cringing just thinking of Ransom asking about you, let alone imagining some kind of plan to embarrass you. "Ugh, what a dick. It's time like this that I regret not going back to my crazy family for holidays."

"You'll be fine. Hopefully. Let's go see Harlan." she opened the door, taking off the lush coat draped over her shoulders before placing it on the spacious coat closet by the entrance. She held her hand out for yours and you slid it off handing it over for her to hang up.

Martha greeted you before you could take another step, the Latina smiling at both of you. "I'm so glad both of you are here. The rest came in before you and they've been bickering since."

You both gave her knowing smiles, the loud discussion so heated you could hear it from all the way across the house. Meg sighed, snaking an arm around yours and Martha, pulling you towards Fran's quarters. "Looks like Harlan will have to wait. I'm not going in there sober."

Martha shook her head, slipping her arm out from Meg's grasp. "Sorry, I don't drink and I have to serve them before they get any rowdier. Between the three of us, I'd rather not see another fist brawl this holiday."

You let out a dry chuckle, fixing the hem of your dress. What were you thinking wearing such a tight dress to a party where Richard Drysdale would mentally undress you with his beady eyes. "We'll come with you, now won't we, Meg?"

She groaned, getting pulled by you, her feet dragging on the hard floor. "We're spending Christmas at your parents' house. You can suffer the family drama because I've had it up to here with mine."

"Oh, you big baby." you teased, following Martha to the living room with Meg in tow. You'd think with all the drama she endured from her crazy mother she'd be able to handle a little more from her crazy relatives. "Wanna mess with that racist, whiney troll?"

Meg's lips lifted into a smile. "That's why you're my best friend."

Martha took a turn towards the kitchen instead of the living room, leaving you and Meg to enter the roomful of crazies alone. Some heads turned but not enough to stop the little debate happening.

Jacob sat at the uncomfortable seat in the corner of the room, watching and tapping the screen in front of him, his eyes never tearing from the device. Linda and Donna sat side by side while their husbands had a screaming match with the other. Joni stood by the fireplace, sipping her wine, and occasionally input some random Pinterest inspirational shit. Your eyes landed on the man you thought would take his sweet time arriving.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale sat at his self-proclaimed seat, eating his Biscoff butter cookies, a smirk evident on his face as he watched you walk into the room. He tried to ignore the way his heart raced, blaming it on the cookies and his seven-month dry spell.

You broke free from Meg's arm, pouring yourself a flute full of champagne, swallowing every last drop before making your way to the plush couch, sitting beside your best friend. Your perfume whiffed in the air as you passed Ransom, making him sit up in his chair. You sat close enough for him to reach over and touch you, but he didn't.

Linda gave you the warmest smile she could muster, interrupting the men's argument to greet you. "Hello, darling. Glad you could make it. At least now there's someone in the room with half a brain."

Walt sneered at his sister before giving you a half-hearted smile. "Hey, kid. Your dad still adamant you become a lawyer?"

"Yup," you answered, pulling out your phone, seeing a bunch of notifications from said person. "Why else do you think I let Meg kidnap me, Walt? No offense, but Thanksgiving at the Thrombey's doesn't classify as peaceful or relaxing."

Ransom guffawed, earning glares from his family members. He smirked at you, biting off a piece from his cookies. "Finally, someone who speaks the truth. No wonder she's his favorite."

That subject launched another debate: deciding who was Harlan's favorite. It was no doubt, Martha was but you did come at a close second. Ransom knew, and he didn't want to miss an opportunity to watch his relatives fight. He was a dick that way. He glanced at you, seeing your phone light up as you whispered a secret to Meg. You ignored the phone call, turning over the phone.

While the rest of the family argued, you left Meg's side, getting up from the uncomfortable couch, and walked out of the room. Ransom watched you, licking his lips at the sight of sashaying, hips swaying, and heels clicking. The crotch of his pants grew uncomfortably tight.

Meg watched him watch you with narrowed eyes, suspicious by her cousin's behavior. He may be 33 but he still acted like a teen, and with her best friend pushing him, there was no telling what he'd do. "If you do anything stupid or remotely offensive to her, I'll make sure to send her your head for her next birthday. Maybe she'll have it taxidermied, and hang it up."

Ransom smirked, tossing the last of his cookie in his mouth, chewing as he looked down at his cousin. "That'll only give me a view of a lifetime. My, this college you go to doesn't seem to teach manners does it? Charming as ever, Meg."

She scowled at him, getting up in the middle of the argument. She couldn't stop whatever he was planning if she didn't know what he had in mind but she wasn't going to ruin this holiday for her best friend. Meg followed you to the kitchen, seeing you take a shot glass from Martha. "Drinking already?"

"Don't judge me. Lemme wallow in the warmth and love of the alcohol that your family isn't capable of," you replied, drinking the clear liquid, grimacing as it burned your throat. Martha handed you the chaser, her timid personality making her put a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Thanks, Martha."

Meg took the bottle of vodka, pouring herself a shot before offering it to Martha who had shaken her head. "You sure?"

She nodded, placing the bottle back in its place. "Yeah, I don't need to be drunk when serving those people. It seems like it's even worse out there than before."

"Thank Ransom. That bastard decided to start another fight just by opening his mouth," you said, sipping on a glass of water. Sniffing the room, you smelt the Thanksgiving dinner Martha had to cook by herself. You knew she had to make a special meal for Ransom since he wouldn't dare put the traditional food in his mouth. Too bad, it'd shut him up. "Why is he here, anyway? Isn't he usually the last one to get here?"

"Usually, but he came with Linda and Richard. Don't worry, you're not the only confused." Martha answered. The oven timer beeped and she opened it, taking out the pumpkin pie. She held it out. "What do you guys think?"

"Looks delicious," Meg replied, looking around the room. The sun was setting and soon you would have to face Ransom again, for dinner. "Do you need any help, Martha? We could help you set up the table or something."

"No, it's fine. I have everything taken care of," she said, nearly dropping the big turkey. Meg helped her, carrying it to the counter. Martha smiled sheepishly. "I guess I could use some help. Meg, do you mind stirring the gravy? And [Y/N], would you please place some knives at the table?"

Both you and Meg nodded, helping the poor nurse. Harlan must've let Fran have the day off or else she'd be all over this. Meg grabbed a plastic ladle from the drawers while you took a handful of knives, leaving the kitchen and walking to the dining room. The long table had been filled with plates, glasses, and napkins, the only thing missing was silverwares. Harlan would have to give Martha a raise.

You had just placed the first knife down when Ransom came in the room, leaning against the arch, arms crossed as he took you in. Watching you, he realized he might have a knife kink, only when it comes to you. You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to make some kind of remark.

When he didn't, you sighed, tossing a knife onto a clothed napkin. "Yes, you pretentious asshole?"

He chuckled, pushing himself off the wood and walking towards you. "Hello to you, too. Why exactly are you doing that? Shouldn't that Mary girl be taking care of everything?"

Oh, the urge to stab a knife in his face--it was almost too much to resist. "It's Martha and unlike you, I'm nice enough to offer help rather than be a lazy prick who no one loves. Karma's gonna bite you in the ass one day, baby."

Ransom snorts, walking up next to you, so close you could feel the heat coming off of him. "You know, my dear cousin mentioned something about some prank she thinks I'm going to pull on you. Do you know what's going on in that stoned brain of hers?"

"Ransom?" you asked, making your way around the large table, placing knives where they belonged. Gritting your teeth into a smile, you turned to him. "I mean this in the best way possible: fuck off."

He would never dare admit it, to himself even, but that hurt him a little. Not enough to break his smug exterior. "Aw, I like you, too, sweetheart. Hurts when you don't admit you do, too. Want some help on the other silverware?"

Your jaw dropped, the knife slipping through your fingers and Ransom caught it quickly. He placed the knife on the empty, designated napkin. "You're fucking with me."

"No, but I sure would like to fuck you." he grinned, the hidden objective twinkling in his eyes. You rolled your eyes, returning back to the kitchen with Ransom following. "Can't a guy help out around here?"

Ransom grabbed your hand before you could push the kitchen door open. He gently led you to the dark, almost hidden hallway beside the dining room. You snatched your hand back, your elbow grazing the wall behind you. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Spending time with my favorite person," Ransom answered, the smirk gone as he backed you to the wall behind you, leaving you no room to escape. Not that you wanted to. His eyes dropped to your lips, only to darken when yours flashed to his. "Why're you so special? Why do you keep invading my thoughts, my dreams, huh? What're you doing to me?"

That made you smile, amused he couldn't stop thinking about your body. You drag your manicured finger down his blue sweater, earning a shaky breath from him. "Glad to know you have wet dreams about me, Hugh. Hmm, what do you get off to, anyway? Degradation? BDSM? Or are you vanilla in bed? With the way you act, it makes me wonder if you even have a dick."

He growled, slamming you into the wall so hard your head made a loud thud. You'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on a bit. You did like it rough. "Your a guest here, act with respect, [Y/N]. Close that mouth before you say something you'll regret."

"Wouldn't you like it if I used my mouth for something useful?" you breathed, hands resting on his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. His eyes drifted to your lips, tongue darting out to moisten his own. "Yeah, you would."

"What that mouth do, sweetheart?"

You heard the oven timer ding and you smiled, moving your lips to his ear. "Eat."

—

His thigh brushed against yours, a hand "accidentally" landing on your bare thigh, his fingers wrapping around the leg. You flashed him a hard smile before moving your thigh away, almost kicking his wife across the table. You scooted closer to Ransom, hoping to avoid his father's uncomfortable advances. If it wasn't for Linda, you would've stabbed the knife you were holding in his hand.

Apparently, you scooted a bit too close to Ransom for him to raise an eyebrow at you, the hint of a soft grin appearing. You glared at him. "Don't."

Ransom chuckled softly, moving closer, close enough for your shoulders to touch. "Now who likes my company?"

"I do like your company... said no one ever." you snapped, keeping enough distance from Richard's wandering hands. If you could, you would've rip his fingers off, but the Thrombey's were too powerful. Ransom threw you a glance, looking between you and the gap between your chairs. You grit your teeth. "What?"

"I didn't say anything."

You pushed away from the table, frustrated with everything about your situation. Tossing your napkin on your plate, you stood up, catching everyone's eye. "Excuse me."

Meg was in the middle of eating her share of the turkey, looking up with a piece of the skin hanging from her mouth. If you hadn't felt so uncomfortable, you would've laughed. She sat up, tilting her head in question as she covered her mouth. You shook you head, assuring her you'd be fine.

Ransom's eyes followed you as you walked by Harlan, giving him a gentle peck on the cheek and a hug before walking out of the dining room. He didn't think he'd ever be jealous of his grandfather. He waited a few seconds before following you, Meg's narrowed eyes watching him as he walked with purpose—he just didn't know what that was yet.

He heard your door slam before he could take a step up the stairs, leaving him confused on what to do. Ransom knew you would reject his company, not that he would blame you. Yet, he felt a little pang in his chest that he ignored, blaming it on the salty turkey. He'd have to go to the doctor soon, check out what was going on with his heart. It might be something serious like palpitations.

Sighing, he went to the kitchen, grabbing a beer and dragged his feet back to his room, trying to forget about the effect you had on him.

It didn't work.

—

Crawling out of bed, you tiptoed down the hall, careful not make a sound as you made your way downstairs. The stairs were loud and you cringed, hoping everyone was deep asleep. Meg had passed out after smoking Fran's stash, plopping down on her bed in your shared bedroom. She reeked of weed and that hadn't help you sleep at all.

You snuck into the kitchen, the soft counter lights bright in the dark room. Walking over to the fridge, you pulled it open, seeing Ransom's alleged "best" beer right at the front. Rolling your eyes, you grab one, popping the cap off. You took a sip, agreeing with the asshole; it was great beer.

Unfortunately, he chose that right moment to have a midnight snack. The kitchen door opened and Ransom was greeted by the sight of you drinking his beer in your tight tank top and booty shorts. It was enough for him to lose it.

Angrily, he walked up to you, snatching the beer from your hand, some of it dripping on the floor. He held it up in front of you with a sneer on his face. "What the hell do you think you're doing with my beer?"

You flinched when he threw it across the room, the shards sprinkling out on the floor. If his yelling hadn't woken up anyone, that certainly would've. Rolling your eyes, you sighed, crossing your arms. "Don't you mean Harlan's beer? It's not like you bought that beer from your own pocket since you don't do shit."

"Oh, I don't do shit? Unlike you I don't depend on horny men and lesbians for likes in order to keep a roof over my head." he spits, pushing you back against the counter.

"No, you just take money from mommy and daddy." you fired back, amused by his anger. You decided then you had a death wish. Or maybe it was just hot seeing Ransom so riled up. Either way, you weren't complaining.

Ransom growled, hands gripping your waist so tightly you were sure it would leave bruises. "Shut up."

Smirking, you lean towards him, lips hovering his. "Make me."

Before he could kiss you, you shoved him away, took another beer from the fridge and walked away without giving him a second look. Ransom stared after you, gripping the kitchen counter.

This wasn't over.

part two

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Three [PT. 1]

Words: 3k

Warning(s): explicit language, drug abuse

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NIKKI

1987

I throw another drink back not long after yelling obscurities at Viv as she stomped out of VIP to leave and go home, between more lines of blow, a trip to the bathroom to get a fix and some drinks, we decide to take the party to Steven's new place. 

"You guys just can't be too loud, though, got it?" He says as sternly as he can as we get inside and he fumbles for his key. 

"Alright, alright, alright," I mumble, stepping inside, grabbing his bottle of Jack off the counter before getting comfortable on the floor by the window. 

We all talk--as best we can--for a little while, Steven and the boys making some calls to get some dealers here, and the only thing on my mind is getting a potent fix, until I hear something...very faint, very familiar...very, very, familiar...I furrow my brows to focus more, ignoring the guys' laughter and voices, my eyes training on the wall opposite of me. 

My subconscious puts it together before my conscious does, like smelling a blanket from a childhood home and immediately being taken back before your brain can quite grasp the feeling. 

Multiple memories shrouding that sound of Vivian that only she can really pull off. 

It doesn't take rocket science equation solving skills to put together why I'm currently hearing her soft, pretty moans carry on next door. 

I'm pretty sure more members of Guns, aside from Steven, are staying here right now. 

Apparently Stevie hears it not long after and slips into the next suite, where the sound is coming from, that's connected to his suite. 

I don't hear it anymore after he gets back in here. 

"Dealer's coming or what?" I ask Steven, my high starting to get blowed from the fact that my wife is next door on her back for someone who isn't me. 

I'd be jealous if I weren't numb to it by now.

"They're all tied up, man." Steven tells me and I groan, thinking for a second. 

An idea comes to mind that makes me want to bang my head against the wall, but I'm desperate and left with no option at this point. 

"I know a guy," I mumble, dragging myself up to the phone in the little kitchen area, reluctantly dialing a number I never wanted to dial again. 

It rings once...twice...three times… 

"Hello?" He answers and I roll my eyes. 

"'Sup man, it's Nikki." I reply, trying to put on my best "friendly" voice, even though it's making my blood boil that the bastard I could see myself killing is ultimately the one that's gonna be able to save the day. 

"Hey, dude." He replies. 

"Me and a few buddies of mine are out here at the Franklin Plaza Suites and need a few things." I rub the back of my neck. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

It's quiet, and he reluctantly breathes out. 

"I'll see what I can do." I can hear the satisfaction in his voice that I'm having to call him. 

Within the next forty minutes there's more people here than I'm comfortable with, groupies, and hangerson, and other drug adoring morons, and then my saving grace comes through the door once Steven lets him in. 

Slash is already slipping into a Jack induced stupor. Sally came in a few minutes ago screaming at all of us guys for leaving her at the Cat House. 

We didn't even realize we'd forgotten her. 

She's in the bathroom, probably keeping herself in there to keep from starting an argument with Slash in front of everyone. 

Robbin's on the phone with Laurie.

Apparently it's just in men's nature to get fucked up, call our wives, and profess our undying love for them despite the fact we cheat on them nearly every time we hangout with our friends. 

I wonder what would happen if I went in there on her and Duff right now. 

What would she say? 

Probably nothing. 

She'd just look at the floor and try not to cry, probably. 

What would I do? 

I know that I know what's going on between them, but if I actually walked in and saw them together, caught in the act…

I'd either be a pussy and cry over it, or kill them both--him first and make her watch, and then just slowly torture her or something. God, I'm fucked up. Even though I'm pretty sure being married to me is torture enough to her. 

I know it's torture to me, too. 

"Here dude," Sparkie hands me a syringe and a spoon, and I look at him, too out of focus to concentrate on getting it right. 

"Fix me." I say to him and he scoffs. 

"Okay, dude." He starts getting it ready and I look at that wall again. Staring at it, taking a sip of my drink. 

Fucking Vivian. 

Of course. Her. Of all the women I've hooked up with and dated in my life, she--the most harmless, at least in my dumbfuck mind when I first met her--is the one to screw me over like this. 

And I've let her. 

If I did what Vince does to Sharise and have that whole, "no hanging out with your boy friends without me" rule, this wouldn't even be an issue. 

That's the problem. Somewhere along the way I loosened her leash a little too much and now she's chewed her way through it entirely. 

"You look like you're in hell, you know," Sparkie tells me, fixing the tourniquet around my arm… "But that's okay, you're about to be in heaven in just a few seconds." He assures me. 

I know he's right. I just need to hang on to that. 

In just a few seconds, I'll be--

I hear Vivian, again, and I reach around my neck and grab onto her cross I've been wearing for weeks, now, squeezing it at the sting of the needle going into my skin. 

I feel him shoot me up, my mind waiting to chase and catch the high that I just know is about to come. 

My fingers slip from the crucifix, and I feel myself fall back before a weightless feeling washes over me.

Present

I keep rereading the damn paper, repeatedly, trying my hardest not to throw a fit...

Nikki Sixx and his wife, Vivian, recently confirmed that she is indeed pregnant issuing a simple and straightforward,"Yes, it's true," statement earlier this week through Nikki's manager, and--as speculated--her pregnancy is not with Nikki. Many fans and some friends of the couple are blown out of the water by this sudden turn of events, others who are familiar with the rockstar and his band but never really paid much attention to his personal relationships, are now curious as to who exactly Vivian Sixx is. Well, in an open letter, rumored to be intended for print in Rolling Stone, a few anonymous former roadies of Mötley Crüe--who partook on their Girls, Girls, Girls, tour in 1987--are here to introduce who they saw behind the scenes of flashing cameras and public sweet moments with husband Nikki. 

"This is a letter to Mötley Crüe fans, we're a mere handful of people out of the many who witnessed monstrosities behind the scenes while on tour with the Crüe since Summer of 1987, none of which were caused by the band or any members, themselves, but one woman in particular. We had no reason to really bring any of this up, but in light of recent news, we are disheartened and angered of the betrayal against one of the four men who gave us an opportunity to live several months in our lives that will forever impact us in the best way known, and provide heartwarming memories by the dozen. This is not an attack on Nikki Sixx, especially given his past struggles with opioid addiction, alcoholism, as well as his abusive wife. The first time we met Vivian, she was polite and friendly, but very assertive. It was obvious it would be her way or no way,  and often times she and Nikki would go back and forth with who was running things. It was obvious Nikki was unwell at times, whether it'd be hungover, sick from withdrawal or simply tired from a show the night before. Vivian would choose these times when he was at his most exhausted to pick fights with him. He'd tell her to go away or 'f**k off,' and she'd continue to verbally and mentally beat him down more than he clearly already was. When Rolling Stone came to interview the band shortly after the wild rumor Vanity started publicly, we were told Vivian had tried to physically attack the reporter working on the story, simply because he made the comment that Pepsi wasn't good for her. Small things like that would often set her off, leaving security, managers, and band members to try to dodge fists while pulling her off of her unsuspecting victim, who was typically Nikki. Many times we'd hear them arguing in the hotel rooms, dressing rooms, bathrooms, tour bus, etc., usually followed by sounds of what we can only describe as 'pitchy, hungry, pornstar moans' on her part--clearly using her body to get back in his good graces after wearing him down. After their fights, Nikki would always have a bottle of alcohol on hand, some kind of drug, and would keep to himself. Our comradery with him soon began to dwindle with each month because it was obvious she was beginning to suck the life out of him. He was more introverted overtime, and higher more often than he was at the beginning of the tour. It really got bad when Guns N' Roses came on tour for a month, because Vivian's attacks on him and the other members of Mötley Crüe, began to pop off as randomly and explosively as fireworks. We'd witness some foul exchange (brought on by Vivian)  between her and Nikki backstage, either verbal or physical, nearly every night. People can talk down on the Crüe for being bad boys, but they've shown everybody that's helped them on tour, gratitude. All the wives and girlfriends that would come on that we'd offer food and drinks to would always express gratitude with a smile and a warm heart, but Vivian would always stay silent and cold towards us. She's a trashy, bitchy, whiney, hateful, spiteful, conniving, plotting python that now has her cold-blooded grasp around not only Nikki's neck, but also Duff's. Her game is to find the most well rounded guys while maintaining under her guise that she's a kind, Christianly woman, and see how far she can push them until they work themselves to death, literally, with trying to please her. We aren't surprised that she's pregnant, she probably video taped herself conceiving the damn thing and sent it to Nikki. We hope she did so it can be practice  for her inevitable low-budget porn career when she runs out of rockstars to f**k and kill, as we've mentioned, she already sounds like one in the throws of passion. Anyway, Nikki, we're hoping you decide to kick her aside and start fresh. Duff, get a paternity test, dude. Crüe fans, don't let that red-headed bitch fool you."

"Who the hell is Page Six to give these bastards a platform in the first place, Doc?!" I snap.

"Nikki, I am handling it, I'm on it--"

"--You tell the L.A. Times and Rolling fucking Stone if they take this shit and run with it, too, I'm personally coming to their offices and fucking them up. Not the publications themselves, but the people trying to put this out there in print, individually." I hiss.

"Nikki, just--" 

"--And who the hell--what roadies did this?!" 

"I don't know, Nikki, but I'm trying my hardest to get it cleaned up." He assures me. 

"'She's a trashy, bitchy, whiney, hateful, spiteful, conniving, plotting python that now has her cold-blooded grasp around not only Nikki's neck, but also Duff's. Her game is to find the most well rounded guys while maintaining under her guise that she's a kind, Christianly woman, and see how far she can push them until they work themselves to death, literally, with trying to please her'?!" I read that snippet, just so he can be reminded how fucked this is, trying my hardest not to start pitching a fucking fit. 

"Fucking AJaxx isn't even cleaning this up! Press mongrels are gonna be humping these bastards legs for giving them sales for the next nine months!" I outburst. 

"Sixx, don't worry about it, alright? It won't go past this shitty Page Six story, okay?" 

"It's fucking horse shit." I ignore him, trying to keep my cool. "Fuck." I kick at the leg of the table, running a hand through my hair.

"I guess one decently positive thing is that Viv doesn't know about this," he says next and I shake my head a little, feeling a migraine starting to come on, strong. 

I was tempted then to check myself out of rehab and 'handle' it myself, but decided it wouldn't be worth it. I hoped it would go away and it would all blow over eventually.

"Vivian, don't listen to any of it, alright? Me and you and everyone on that tour know damn well it wasn't just you being a bitch and us being the innocent victims." I say through the phone as Viv tries to calm down, her breathing shaky and ragged from crying so much. 

"I know that but the fans and other people don't know that." She says to me, her voice quiet and tired. "I'm so embarrassed, Nikki." She adds. "I'm already embarrassed that everybody knows I cheated on you but now this whole thing…" she trails off and I feel guilt tug at my heart. 

I don't know what the fuck to say. 

I'm used to criticism from the press, but none of them have tore into me or any of the guys--except Vince after the Razzle accident--so personally and extensively as they're tearing at her. 

Calling me a devil worshipper and saying my music is shitty gets annoying and frustrating and even infuriating at times, but attacking my wife and calling her a low budget porn star and telling me to kick her aside? 

Fuck that. 

"I'm sorry, Viv. I really am." I assure her, honestly, closing my eyes when I hear her stifle a little sob out. "Where are you at right now?" I ask. 

"Duff wanted me to meet his family." She tells me. "I'll be back Saturday." 

I'm relieved she actually has a reason for not being here, but I'm also hurt that she didn't give me a heads up. But I don't want to talk about it right now. I think she's been punished enough today. 

"Okay...you didn't show yesterday and I was just worried." I admit. 

"I know, it was just a spur of the moment thing. He asked me last week and I didn't think it'd be an issue." 

"Oh." 

I glance around and let out a breath. 

"I, um, I'm gonna go. I got a group thing with the guys at 3:00." I tell her. 

"Okay." 

"Are you gonna be okay or do I need to break out and kick someone's ass?" I ask her, half-joking, and she laughs, making me smile. 

"I'll be okay." She tells me. 

"I'll see you next week, Sixx." 

I can practically hear the smile in her voice when she says, "see you next week." 

We hang up and I rub my lips together, taking a few deep breaths before heading to where me and the guys meet with Amber three times a week now. 

Tommy and Vince are waiting for me, and I plop down beside them, leaning forward, elbows on my knees, hands running over my face…

"Psst," Tommy nudges me and I look at him as Vince gets up to grab a cup of coffee. 

"What?" I ask him, and he puts his finger over his mouth. 

"You seen the shit they're on Vivian for?" He whispers and I furrow my brows, looking around. 

"The room is empty except us, dude, why are you--"

"--Shh," he says. 

"Why are you whispering?" I finish my sentence. 

"Because they probably have this motherfucker bugged out the ass." He replies, glancing around again. "I'm thinking of breaking outta here, man." He whispers very, very quietly. 

"You do know we're not being held here by legal obligation, right? They won't chase us down and have the cops on us if we just check ourselves out." I point out and he furrows his brows a little. 

"Oh." 

"Why do you wanna 'break out'?" I ask. 

"I miss Heather and my dogs and I wanna be able to be there Viv, dude. She fucking needs us right now and we're, like, over an hour away--disconnected from shit. I mean we wouldn't even know what the fuck was going on in the world if Doc wasn't keeping us in the loop, ya know?" 

I think about it for a second. 

"We're over a month into our three month stay, dude." I state. "We can't just throw in the towel, now." 

"I don't mean ditch it and stay gone. I just mean check out for a few days, go back home, see what all is going on and come back." He shrugs. 

It seems oddly appealing. 

Way too appealing, actually. 

"I don't know, Tommy…" I rub the back of my neck.

"I already talked to Vince about it and he's down."

"Of course he is." 

"And we wouldn't be doing it tomorrow or anything. I'm thinking next week." 

"Does Doc know?" I ask. 

"Fuck Doc." He scoffs. 

"Agreed." I nod, chuckling. 

"So, you in or not, man?" 

"Just for a few days?" 

"Just for a few days." 

"Then we're all coming back in?" 

"Like we never left to begin with." 

"No drugs, no parties, not even alcohol." 

"Just spending time with our families and then back to the grindstone." He states. 

"...I'm in."

 ...You know when you're on a shitty diet, eating boring, tasteless, "healthy" food, and then decide you've been stuck to your diet long enough that you can have one slice of cake because you're disciplined enough to control yourself? And now, two years later, you're still telling yourself you'll get back on your diet because after that slice of cake you just said, "fuck it," and never thought about forcing yourself to eat lettuce again? Let's just say leaving rehab prematurely works the same damn way.

[vfenrirsv]

She left her books, her car, her clothes, and a note

But all she wrote was, “Tonight I'm leaving on a train,”

She said she's headed west, to make it right, for one more night

And, well, I don't blame her if she is

They say it isn’t stupid to stay and fight for a relationship, because love is complicated and messy and people are more than just the sum of their quirks and dirty laundry or bad habits. They say it isn’t stupid to put your all into your relationship, to go all in, to open your heart and love with all of it; knowing that you might get hurt as well. They say there is no limit to love, that there is no mountain high enough or river deep enough…but I guess love only truly lives in song and sonnet, because if love were real then wouldn’t you be in as much pain as I am?

Wouldn’t you be suffering under the knowledge that the person you swore to love with all of yourself for the rest of your life didn’t even act like they want you anymore?

But he thinks it's just one more sunset

And after all, it's her fault if she hasn't caught on yet

So why'd you have to go?

Would you even miss me if I were gone? Would you walk the halls and cry for me? Would you stay awake at night and look to the stars, wondering where I was and how things could have gotten so twisted and turned around? Would you even notice that I wasn’t there? Would something in your soul feel missing or dark? Would you run down the drive and look for me the morning after you realized that I wasn’t coming back? Would you scream and demand that the heavens answer your question of why, why, why?

Or would you sit in front of your television or play on your phone, and mutinously stew in your own silence? Would you go to work every day, nary a disturbance to your life of work-grocery-home-shit-shower-sleep-repeat, going on and on like every other day? Would you look around and continue to ‘have nothing to say?’ Would you even look around at all?

Is there something I could say to make you turn around?

Cause nights like these I wish I'd said don't go

Is there anybody there?

Can anybody help to get me out of here?

'Cause you're walking down a road that I can't go

I’m already gone, even if I’m still here. I battle with myself about how much more to bend or struggle or argue. When we argue I am the one spilling my guts, crying and emoting and being rung dry while you sit in silence with a quick joke or flirty comment. “You’re so pretty.” You say it’s to make me feel better, but all it does is chip away at what little of my feelings I have left. Do you even care? Have you even realized that I’m leaving, that I’m out the door, that I’m disappearing right in front of you? I’m disappearing from this life, this relationship, from the friendship I thought we had, inch by inch by painful fucking inch.

Have you even realized that I’ve stopped arguing with you, stopped asking you to talk to me; have you noticed yet that I’ve simply stopped?

Is there anybody there?

Can anybody help to get me out of here?

'Cause you're walking down a road that I can't go

If you were fighting for this relationship, if you were determined to stitch it back together; failures and all, would you argue with me more? Would you get overwhelmed and angry and loud? Would you throw things or slam doors? Would you demand answers and dedication and a second, or third, or tenth chance? Would you get desperate and panic, thinking that everything was your fault, like I do? Would you turn your mind over and over, trying to find a solution to problems that you know aren’t even fixable anymore? Would you lose sleep like I do? Would you forget to take care of yourself? Would you get sick to your stomach like I do?

Would you dread the thought that you’ve become a complete and utter failure, like I do?

Try as I might, I just can't handle this

I lost myself inside a drunken kiss, and I

All that I wanted was to walk you home

Save a sad song for the sing-along

Would you even recognize rejection anymore?

When I say “You haven’t kissed me today,” and you kiss me on the cheek, do you even understand how sad that makes me; how utterly low it brings me? Instead of dragging me close and laying claim to my lips and stealing the breath from my lungs, you skim my cheek for a millisecond before pulling away. If my love language were affection, you’d be speaking loud and clear. It doesn’t matter that you follow it up with a peck on the lips. “I’m just not good enough for you anymore, am I?” you ask. Truthfully? No, I don’t think so anymore. I am not going to apologize for outgrowing a relationship or a person who had the option to grow with me but stubbornly refused to.

When I tell you “I need you,” and throw myself at you, change my clothes and my under things and my actions, when I come on to you and give you every opportunity to have me in the way that a man wants a woman; you smile at me, call me cute, and feed me an excuse. Do you know how that makes me feel? To know that the only man I want to crave couldn’t care less for a taste of me? Have you even realized that I’ve stopped propositioning you? Your excuses taste like ash in my mouth and sound like static in my ears.

Do you even know the last time you touched me? No? I do. I am intimately familiar with all of the times you’ve left me wanting.

In sixteen days it will be a year. A fucking year. 12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days. 8,760 hours. 525,600 minutes. 31,536,000 seconds, each an opportunity denied. Do you have any idea how the fuck that makes me feel? Do you even fucking care what you’ve done by doing nothing? Are you even aware of the neglect that I feel? That is YOUR fault. I am livid. I have spent money needlessly on lingerie and waxing and short dresses and makeup and have watched more than my fair share of tasteless x-rated cinema to get ideas on how to fucking please you and for what? FOR WHAT? For. Absolutely. Nothing. A fucking year? Are you fucking serious?!

We’ve been married a year and four months, and it seems like I don’t mean anything to you at all.

Oh excuse me, my bad, I pay my share of the bills – so I guess I’m good for something.

And what she'd give for one more smile

And how she hoped he missed her

'Cause, God, she missed how he would kiss her

You know, I lay awake at night and I wonder; would we have been better if we had waited to get married – would we even be married at all? If we had catered to everyone else’s needs, delayed everything, if I had been witness to all of this earlier, would I have been able to foresee how much you don’t respond to me anymore? If I had slowed down and kept a part of my heart to myself, would I be better off? If I had stayed with my job up north, would things have progressed as they have? If I put my foot down about moving down here, was more vocal against moving into this oversized house, more resistant about sacrificing my preferences and wants; would anything be different?

If I didn’t love you as much as I do, would I be better off? If I didn’t believe that sometimes love isn’t enough, would we be better than we are now? What if, what if, what if…

So why'd you have to go?

Is there something I could say to make you turn around?

'Cause nights like these I wish I'd said don't go

Is there anybody there?

Can anybody help to get me out of here?

'Cause you're walking down a road that I can't go

Who have I even become in this relationship? I can’t stand the person that I have become, and if I don’t love myself anymore how in the world can I expect you to? I’ve stopped taking care of myself, and I’ve stopped taking care of you – but jesuseverlovingchrist it isn’t my responsibility to take care of you. I am not your mother, your maid, or even your mistress. You refuse to take care of yourself? Fine. Then don’t.

And if you won’t love me, then I will just have to love myself instead.

I used to be vivacious, exciting, and adventurous. I would go out to drink and flirt on New Year’s Eve. I’d kiss a stranger, and have fun doing it! I’d dress and make myself up just to turn someone’s head, to catch someone’s eye, to feel coveted. I would pack a bag and go hiking or camping on a whim. I’d get on the back of a stranger’s motorcycle and hold them close and feel the thrill of speed and power beneath me on the highway. I’d swim naked in the sea and sleep in my car on three-day weekends. I’d stay up past midnight to watch the stars disappear and the sun rise over the ocean. I’d make friends of friends, chat up strangers in coffee shops and bookstores. I used to try things for the sake of trying them. There was always the thrill of the unknown.

Now? I stay at home, holed up in a bedroom with paint on the walls and carpet on the floor that I can’t stand. I fucking hatehatehate the color. Who thought that beige-everything was a good idea? I spend all my time reading books and avoiding the world. I can’t even live well in the shadow of my unhappiness. I just eat, and eat, and eat and grow fat and sick of the shade that I cast. I can’t do this anymore.

I’m leaving, and even if you tried to stop me, I don’t know that I’d even believe that you meant it.

'Cause you're walking down a road that I can't go

Yeah, you're walking down a road that I can't go

You're walking down a road that I can't…

Disappearing By Inches, by Vann Fenrirs Volchitsa

Champagnes For Celebrating, by Mayday Parade

[stanbillyhargrove]

Ghosts chp 15

Billy x Katrina

A/N: this is a multi chapter series that will contain smut, angst, fluff, substance abuse

Katrina's POV

"Have you seen Katrina?"

"I thought she was with you?"

"No...she went to grab something from the kitchen and never came back."

I backed slowly out of the hallway, moving lightly to not make any noise. I couldn't let the boys know. Know that everything felt wrong, like I was barely holding on to myself.

I slid into the bathroom to see him staring back at me. The man I'd been seeing since we left Salem. All harsh angles and cold blue eyes.

He was smiling.

A cruel smile, menacing even as the dimple in his cheek deepened.

Stunning.

"Tell me," he sneered, "do you know torture?"

I could feel my lip wavering as I shook my head.

"Don't worry, you will."

"Please," I whimpered.

He tutted at me, "quiet now, pet. Have I ever harmed you?"

"No..."

"You know I wouldn't, right? Not on purpose."

I nodded slowly. It felt like I was losing control, like it took every ounce of concentration to get that one small movement.

"Good, now don't fight me."

--

I was stuck. Watching but disconnected from my body. Panic lanced through me, white hot as my body moved without my command.

"Hush, my pet," his voice echoed in my head, "I've got us. Go to sleep."

It was easy. To obey him and fall into darkness. Into complacency.

I continued to fade in and out as we moved around the house. Silently lurking in shadows to watch Steve and Billy without them noticing.

--

Billy's POV

Tap, tap, tap.

"You had to have heard it that time, Billy!"

Steve was looking out every window in the house, frantic as he tried to figure out who was outside.

"Do you think it's Katrina? Playing a prank on us?"

I shook my head, "no, she'd be killing herself laughing if it was a prank. We'd hear her."

"Well what the fuck? Someone is obviously out there!"

"I don't know, Steve!"

THUD.

A hand smacked the window, causing Steve to scream and flinch away from it. The hand slid down, slipping down the window with a squeal. But not before I caught sight of a tattoo. A tattoo I recognized from Katrina's wrist.

"Jesus," I huffed, "it is Katrina!"

I stomped to the front door and threw it open to look out into the now empty yard.

"Hey! Katrina! We know it's you, you got us! Ha ha you can come in now," I shouted into the dark.

I heard the crunch of gravel and turned to look down the driveway. There, at the very end, standing perfectly still in the dim street light, was Katrina. At least, I was pretty sure, I couldn't really see anything other than her shape.

"Hey! You got us, come inside!" I called.

I saw her head cock to the side, but she didn't step forward, didn't move at all.

"Billy? What's going on?" Steve asked from behind me.

"Nothing," I answered, turning to look at him quickly before looking back outside.

The driveway was empty now.

"Katrina?" I yelled, looking around, "where'd you go?"

"Billy...I don't like this," Steve whispered, "something's not right."

"Yeah," I nodded, slowly closing the door and locking it, "if this is a prank, she's being an asshole."

We retreated to the kitchen, staying close to each other and listening for any more sounds.

"I'm gunna try to call her...tell her this isn't funny."

I pulled out my phone and dialed Katrina's number. I was sent to voicemail five times before we heard the chime of her cell phone behind us. We jumped and whirled around to see her phone on the dining room table, screen lit up with my call until I was sent to voicemail again.

"Katrina!" I yelled, "you're not fucking funny! Get out here now!"

There was a few minutes of silence before we heard the screech of something dragging across glass from the other side of the house. Steve was really panicking now, his chest heaving with breaths that were coming too fast. I could feel my heart racing, thundering in my ears. With a gulp, I started walking in the direction of the sound, Steve close behind me.

If I thought my heart was pounding before, it kicked into overdrive when we walked into the living room. All across the windows in big red lettering was 'HA HA HA HA HA'.

"We should get the fuck out of here," Steve murmured.

"Yeah, yeah we should...my keys are in the kitchen."

We ran to the kitchen, searching the counters for my keys.

"Where the fuck are they?"

"Billy," Steve mumbled quietly, hand flapping wildly against my arm.

I pushed things around the counter, looking for a flash of silver.

"Billy," he said again, hitting my arm a little harder.

"What, Steve?" I yelled, turning to look at him.

He was staring behind me, face frozen and pale.

"What are you-" I started, turning to follow his gaze.

In the kitchen window was Katrina, staring straight at us. Not moving, just staring.

"Katrina, knock it off. You're not funny," I called, my voice cracking a little.

Her eyes flicked over to me and a menacing smile stretched across her face. One that sent shivers down my spine and reminded me too much of...

"Fuck, Billy, look."

I snapped out of my thoughts to see a flash of silver as her hand lifted up to the window. Her face didn't move as she twirled my keys around her finger. My mouth dried out when I noticed blood smeared across her face.

"Steve, where's your phone?"

He stammered, "u-upstairs, I think."

"Go get it. Call Riley."

"And tell her what? That Katrina's acting like some kind of fucking horror villain?" He hissed.

"Yes, Steve," I growled, "exactly that. Tell her we need their help. Now."

He made a noise in protest but slowly backed out of the kitchen and ran upstairs. I could hear his footsteps pounding on the stairs.

So could Katrina.

Her head turned to follow the sound and I stepped forward to pound on the window.

"Hey! Who are you? Why are you doing this?" I yelled.

She looked over at me quickly, for just a brief second, before she walked away from the window.

"Steve!" I yelled, "hurry the fuck up!"

"Coming!" He called, running back downstairs, "I found it but my battery is almost dead."

"Well fucking call her fast."

He nodded, her name already up on his phone. We were cast into darkness just as he clicked call, the only light being moonlight and the glow of Steve's phone. I looked around at the appliances, all of which had gone dark.

"Oh fuck," he mumbled, "Riley! Riley, we need help! ...it's Katrina, she's acting like a psycho! ...I don't know, like a fucking horror villain, Riley! You guys need to come help us! ...yeah, we're at the cabin ...I'll send you the address, hurry."

He quickly typed out the address to Riley and sighed shakily.

"What do we do now?"

"We wait, I guess."

--

The battery in Steve's phone had lasted just long enough for us to find a few candles and get them lit, casting an eery glow across our faces as we huddled in my bedroom upstairs.

We'd been up here for a while in total silence until we suddenly heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Billy," Steve whispered, "I thought you locked the doors."

"I did..."

I was just getting up to start pushing furniture against the door when I heard Katrina call out from down the hall.

"Billy? Steve?"

I froze, staring at the door and breathed, "Katrina?"

Steve stepped forward to grab my arm, "no. No, no, no, no. That's not Katrina, remember?"

"Billy?" She cried, "please, help me. I don't know what's happening...it hurts."

I grabbed the door handle, ignoring Steve's protests as I opened the door to peek out into the hall. When I didn't see or hear anything other than Katrina's crying, I opened the door wider and stuck my face out to look down the hall. Katrina was at the end of the hall, facing away from us and standing perfectly still.

"What do you see?" Steve whispered.

"Just Katrina, at the end of the hall," I answered, tucking back into the room to grab a candle before slowly inching into the hallway.

"Katrina? Babe?"

As I walked closer to her I could see that she was covered in blood and called back, "Steve! She's hurt, get out here!"

I could hear his grumbles of protest as he joined me in the dark. When we got to Katrina, she wasn't crying anymore, she was just silent and still. I gently touched her shoulder and turned her to face me and nearly dropped the candle.

"Y-your eyes..." I stammered.

"What?" Steve asked, coming around to look at her, "holy shit!"

Katrina's left eye had changed, steely blue had split her previously vibrant green eye in half. She was staring at us blankly, like there was nobody inside, but that menacing smile stayed.

I gulped, "Neil?"

@charmed-asylum @champagnesugamama @alias-b

[raindrop-on-a-spiderweb]

On The Street Where You Live, Part 2

This got long so I had to break it up into 3 parts. Apologies!

I'm warning you, this chapter is pretty degenerate. And has sex scenes 😥

***

Patience perused the dresses on the rack. Two girls from her high school were at the normal-priced rack, giggling and casting smug looks behind them at the girl in the ratty skirt flipping through Woolworth's discount rack. She tried to ignore them.

Too out-of-style... wrong size... too much lace... finally, when she was beginning to despair, she found a gorgeous green dress with a white sash and a ruffled bodice at the very end. It had a rip in the skirt, but that could be fixed.

She walked home, and as soon as she stepped through the door she was met by a familiar face. Leonardo was sitting on the couch, hair ruffled. His face brightened when he saw her. "What are you doing here?" She said.

Mommy came in, buttoning the front of her dress. "Did you find a prom dress, honey?"

"Yeah. It's ten dollars."

"I could have one made for you," said Leonardo. "My father and I are tailors."

The thought of Silvio with his giant sausage fingers sweating over her dress made her want to drink Drano. "It's nice of you to offer, but thanks."

Something in the air smelled fishy. Literally. Leonardo had his waistcoat (with the St.Joseph's emblem) draped over the side of the couch.

"Patience, sweetie, go get the photo album. I want to show Leo some pictures."

'Leo'?

Mommy looked happier than she had ever seen her before. Her skin was flushed and she looked at Leonardo with adoration that seemed closer to worship.

Patience reluctantly got the album out of the cabinet and Mommy flipped it open on her lap. Black-and-white photos of days gone by--days when Mommy and Daddy didn't scream or hit each other--flashed past.

"This is our wedding day," said Mommy, pointing to a photo of her and Daddy, her radiant in a long-sleeved white dress and Daddy in his army uniform. "Richard had just come back from serving in World War Two."

"My father served the war as well," said Leonardo. 

"Which side?" Said Patience, and her mom scowled at her.

"He fought for Italy. But he was never a fascist, just a patriot. When he saw how bad things were going for Italy, he switched to helping the Allies. He helped rebuild Italy. And after it was all said and done, he came here to start a new life."

Patience had a distinct feeling that some of that was bullshit, but said nothing. 

"Mrs. Winslow, you look radiant. A true Southern beauty."

Mommy giggled. "That was a long time ago."

"You are still beautiful. I know you still turn heads when you're out." He winked. "If I were your husband, I'd be too afraid of someone stealing you I'd never let you out of the house."

God, he knew how to lay it on thick. She grumped to herself as he paused over a picture of Patience. "Is that you, Pazienza?"

Patience was about eight, in a checked pinafore and her hair in braids. "Yeah. That was the church picnic, remember, Mommy?"

"I wish I had pictures like these," Leonardo said softly. "All of them are so happy and lovely. I can tell you all adore each other."

"Don't you have baby pictures?"

"Not many. We lived a rough life. Photographs were a luxury few of us could afford."

"You poor thing," said Mommy, cupping his face. Patience looked away. She hated the syrupy way Mommy spoke to him. He wasn't her son. Patience was her daughter, and she was RIGHT THERE.

They reached the end, and there was a picture of the family in front of their new house in Garland City. Patience was forcing a smile, as was her mother, and Richard wasn't smiling at all.

Patience winced. "That's when we moved to Garland. Urgh."

"Why the move?"

"Well, Greenhaven PD wanted dad to come to Garland to work on some assignment with the Garland City PD. And it's... kinda dragging."

"What assignment?"

Patience looked at her mom, and doubt flashed across her face. "Organized crime," she said slowly.

"You don't want to tell me? That's fine. I don't blame you." He rubbed his finger over the photograph, lingering on Patience's face. "You really do look like your mother, Patience. Both of you are beautiful. Richard is a very, very lucky man."

Patience couldn't help it. He was handsome and she was a little flattered. "I need to... go do homework."

"Richard is due back soon as well. Thank you for dropping that casserole off, Leo."

Patience escorted him out. "It's lovely spending time with you and your mother. We should all go out together sometime."

"I'm not sure my dad would like that."

"Well, we just won't tell anyone then." He leaned against the side of the door, shielding his pretty face from the sun with one hand. "Patience, I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?" She wondered when Woolworth's was closing.

"There's going to be a celebration at St. Joseph's next Sunday. Feast of St. Gennaro. Would you like to come with me?"

"Uhm, I'm actually going to be doing something that night. Prom. I have a date."

He paused, and something settled over his face. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"It's fine." 

His blue eyes were glassy in the sunshine. "Who with?"

"Salvatore Mallozzi. I think you know him."

"I do indeed." He looked away. The joviality of his manner had seemed to vanish. "Thank you for having me over." He walked down the steps to the house, not looking back.

***

"You look beautiful, sweetie." Marilyn fixed her hair a bit and steppled back. "Perfecto!"

Patience looked at herself in the mirror, turning her head this way and that to admire the makeup. "Thanks, Mommy! You did a great job."

"I still think you should have worn my black dress. It'll look so charming and vintage." 

"Ha. I'd get hell for it from the other girls, I'd never live it down."

She looked out the window. "You'll have to introduce me to your date soon."

Patience had no intention of doing so, and would make excuses to the end of time. "Sure, I will. We'll all have to have dinner or something." She checked the clock. "Well, off I go. Bye, Mommy."

"Have fun, sweetie. Don't get carried away." The look on her face was bittersweet as she watched her daughter leave the house.

***

Salvatore had offered to pick her up, but she refused. She REALLY didn't need her mom and dad to see who she was dating. So she walked down the cracked streets to Salvatore's house.

He lived just a few blocks over, in a small, cramped tenement with an overgrown yard and a car on concrete blocks on the street opposite. She nervously knocked on the door, and it was pulled open by a plump girl with red lipstick and frizzy blonde hair. "Oh, you must be Patience!"

"Are you... related?" 

"No. My name's Barbara. I'm here for the prom as well." She stepped into the doorway, showing off her ruffled polka-dot dress. "I'm going with Gabe, Salvatore's brother. I like your dress!"

"Salvatore has a brother?" She followed her in.

The house was packed, hot and noisy. A boy that looked similiar to Sal, but with longer hair, was straightening his bow tie in the hallway mirror. He looked over and smiled at her. "Hi! You must be Patience."

He yelled something in Sicilian behind him, and was answered by a woman's voice in another rapid smattering of Sicilian. A woman with thick dark hair and thicker eyebrows was cooking something in the smoky kitchen as Patience emerged into the living room. As she looked over at Patience and frowned, the resemblance to her two sons was so striking she wondered if she were simply Salvatore in a dress with a little eyeshadow. 

"Why can't you get a nice Italian girl?" The woman yelled in the other direction.

"Quiet down, mama!" Salvatore yelled back from another room.

There was a man sitting on the ripped couch, holding a beer. She vaguely recognized the dark shades and the slicked-back hair.

"Patience! So this is the girl that my Sal is so in love with. Let me get a good look at you.

"Skin and bones," sniffed the mother.

"That dress looks lovely on you, darling. Twirl around." She did so. "Che bella!"

Barbara came in and collapsed on the sofa. "Are you done in there, Sal?"

"I'll be ready when I'm ready!"

"I've known Sal since he was knee-high-- I'm his part-time boss. Name's Dario Malone, but you can call me Bats. Cause I'm battier than a warehouse full of 'em!" That seemed to amuse Malone, and he threw his head back and cackled.

Dario Malone... that name sounded familiar. She felt like she'd seen it in the newspaper before. A door swung open and Sal stood there in a well-cut white tuxedo, his black hair in a neat side-part. He was holding a corsage. 

"You look great, Sal! You're so handsome! Your suit's... amazing!"

"I let him borrow it," said Malone. "After all, it's a special night."

"You look stunning," Salvatore managed, his eyes like saucers. "Your dress... it's...,"

"From the clearance rack at Woolworth's." Salvatore stepped forward and pinned the corsage to her breast. "May I?"

"You may." Patience took his arm in hers.

"This kid is like a son to me," said Malone. "So you better bring him back home before midnight, understand?" He wagged his finger in a parody of a mother. 

She laughed. "Sure, Mr. Malone."

"Salud, Sal." He lifted his beer bottle. "You make this a special night."

Barbara and Gabe and them got in the car, a swanky Cadillac that was probably borrowed as well. Barbara and Patience sat in the back, Gabe and Sal in the front.

The ride was long and glitzy and filled with laughter. Salvatore blew through two red light and the speed limit, but she didn't care. Barbara cracked raunchy joke after raunchy joke. When they finally arrived at the prom, Patience staggered out, dizzy, when Sal held the door open for her.

Their car outshone every other car in the parking lot. People stared in admiration at the Mallozzi brothers and their dates as they escorted them into the auditorium.

A banner proclaiming CLASS OF 52 WILLIAM WESTON HIGH SCHOOL hung over the dance floor. Punch bowls and glitzy dresses galore. High heels spinning in a dance. Neon streamers everywhere. Patience was bedazzled, and had to hang onto Sal's arm for support.

"Yahoo! Let's dance!" Barbara grabbed Gabe and spun him into the crowd of dancers, and Sal followed suit.

None of them knew how to dance, that much was clear, and they kept knocking into other people and each other. Patience was laughing and blushing, and hooked her arms around Salvatore's narrow shoulders

Even his pallor had flushed, and he was grinning broadly.

They separated when they became exhausted, and Sal led her over to a chair as he went to get them punch.

Patience leaned her elbows on the white tablecloth as Sal disappeared into the crowd. This was the best night of her life and it could only get better. She never wanted it to end.

"Excuse me? Excuse me? P-Patience?"

She turned around to face a brown-haired boy with coke bottle glasses and a bow tie. He was holding a pen and a notepad.

"Yes?" He looked vaguely familiar.

"I'm Mike. I'm in your gun class, I think."

"Oh. Yeah. You always come in dead last. I'm sorry for beating you by fifty points last Friday, I shouldn't have laughed at you."

"It's fine. I'll take another elective next year. I'm not big on shooting, anyway, journalism is more my forte." He scratched his head, looking nervous. "I'm covering the prom for the yearbook. Can I ask you a couple questions?"

"Sure." She moved over to let him sit down.

"First question: Who is your date?"

"I'M her goddamn date, and you better beat it, you fucking mick." Sal was standing there holding two cups of punch, his fingers so tight she worried that it would shatter.

He stood up. "Sorry. I'm with the yearbook, I was just interviewing--"

"I don't give a fuck what you're doing, find another girl." Salvatore's voice was a snarl.

"Sal, calm down. He really WAS just--"

"What the hell did you say to my brother?" Snarled someone else from behind. A tall brown-haired boy with a lantern jaw and a suit 2 sizes too small blocked out the light.

Sal slid the drinks over to her and faced him, body tense. "Get lost, Seamus. This doesn't involve you."

"Fuck you, Mallozzi. I got a fuckin bone to pick with you. You put my buddy Sam in the hospital. And you was the one trespassing on Bulldogs territory!"

A small circle had formed, watching the two boys. "Oh, no," Michael said in a small voice.

Sal pushed up his sleeves just as Seamus took a step forward. The look in his glistening, coal-black eyes made her shudder. A chill ran down her spine. In her mind's eye she saw the Irish boy's head stomped into the curb, and heard the echoing crack through her brain.

"What's going on here? Are you fighting? Enough!" Mr. Tolbert, their burly gym teacher, was elbowing his way through the throng.

Sal looked over to the teacher and looked about to argue--the cords on his neck were standing taut. But Patience wrapped her arms around him from behind, and saidnin his ear. "Forget about it Sal. He's not worth it. C'mon, let's dance a little more."

Mike tugged his brother in the other direction, and Patience led him back to the dance floor and pulled him into a slow dance. She tilted her head up to rest their foreheads against each other.

He smelled like cigarette smoke, her boy, and as the gentleness in his eyes returned, she leaned up and slowly pressed her lips against his. They stayed like that, still, tasting each other, their bodies molded together. When they separated, he whispered, "Let's get out of here?"

"What?" She giggled.

"I know a place--a beautiful little place that the two of us can go for some alone time. Come on, let's go!" He tugged her towards the exit. She looked back, her hair whipping. "What about Gabe and Barb?" 

"They have friends who can drive them home. C'mon!"

***

It was indeed a beautiful little place. On a hill that overlooked the vast, glittering lights of Garland City, he had parked her car. She gazed out over the cornucopia of shining lights, spread like a blanket to the mass of darkness that was the bay. "Oh, Sal! This is wonderful!"

He was sitting back, smiling rakishly. "One hell of a sight, huh? Found this place while exploring one day. Thought it would be perfect. No one comes around here cause it's right off the highway on the forest reserve. The trees hide it from the road." 

If Patience had been more suspicious, she probably would have questioned why he was out here so remote "exploring", but she was caught up in a whirlwind of love and it didn't occur to her. "It's perfect. Thank you. This--everything is perfect."

"I sure hope so. A perfect night for a perfect girl." he smiled at her. He did have the most wonderful smile. It lit up his whole face. He was handsome, in that gangly way teenage boys often were, youth softening his features before they became angular adult's features. His skin was very fair, milky pale and shaved clean of the faltering stubble that had just started to come in. His eyes were not hard anymore, but as soft and dark as a doe's, his hair a matching sable that was carefully combed out of his face. 

And she was drowning in him, so much so that when he put a hand between her legs she didn't object, but leaned forward to meet him in a kiss.

She was hypersensitized, breathing heavily and moaning as his mouth went from hers to the soft nape of her neck, nipping her slightly as his hand worked under her panties to reach her warm, damp confines.

He pressed the tip of his finger inside her, slowly moving in circles, and she stifled a moan. She could see him getting hard through his pants, and spontaneously rubbed him through the fabric. He swelled under her hand, becoming more erect with every rub she gave him.

He moved up to a tiny pinprick of flesh between her cleft, and the shock of pleasure was so electric she gasped. "There," she said. "Yes, there, yes, keep rubbing!"

He encircled it with his finger and thumb, pressing and rubbing and sending her heart to her throat, and she increased her movements, gripping his bulging head through the fabric and squeezing it.

"Fuck," he said when before now he had been silent, and his voice was strained. He pulled his hand out--she squirmed--and wrapped his arms around her, searching for the zipper of her dress, and when he yanked it down, it nearly tore. She gave a half-cry, half-laugh. "Sal!"

Her breasts--what little of them there were-- popped free, and he smothered his face in them, licking and sucking the sensitive red tips. She grabbed his head, her fingers sinking into his soft black hair, not sure whether to pull him toward her or away, the stimulation zinging to the ends of her toes.

He unbuttoned his coat halfway, and pulled it off the rest of the way in his haste. The shirt came off too, and his bare chest was revealed, lean and scarred with every rib visible.

"Sal--" he quieted her with another kiss, pulling off her dress until she was in nothing but underwear and thigh-highs, and the underwear went too, dangling on her ankles.

The world swirled as he pulled a lever to put her seat back, and her head thudded against the soft seat as he climbed on top of her. He did not weigh much, but he seemed heavy as he pulled down his zipper, head bent so that his hair came free to shadow his face.

Something brushed her wet, spread opening, something hard and desperately hot, and before she could say a word he was fully sheathed in her, his thick cock spearing her spongy walls, and the pain wa so sudden and sharp the slow shreds of pleasure that had begun to build up vanished.

He began to move back and forth, his hips spasming as he forced his cock as far as it would go and pulled out, leaving just the head in. 

Whatever pleasure she might have felt was gone by the harsh movement and sudden penetration without any time for her to adjust. She struggled, the pain making tears come to her eyes, before he slammed her back down with a deliberateness to it that said don't do that again.

She looked at the car ceiling, tears streaking down the sides of her face as put his whole weight on her hips, grinding against her harder than a bullet in a chamber. The thought made her think of gun class, and if she had a gun right now, and she wondered whether she would use it on him right now.

Her long, pale legs unwillingly curved around his slim hips, her underwear hanging from one ankle. The lights of the city reflected on the dashboard, and on her quivering toetip, twitching back and forth as he slammed into her.

He froze, head nestled to the nape of her neck, and gave a moan that vibrated against her skin. Something hot spread through her lower body, like a warm, wet puddle. 

They lay like that for a moment, him harshly breathing against her skin, before he rolled off.

She sat up immediately, despite the stinging between her thighs, and pulled her dress around her. Her nose was running in addition to the tears that streamed down her cheeks. As she hefted herself, she felt something warm trickle down her leg. When she looked down she saw a streak of blood, mixed with white, slowly making its way down her thigh.

"Marry me," said Salvatore.

Patience looked over at him in utter bewilderment. He was lying on his back, his narrow chest exhaling and expanding and his fly undone. The thing that had caused her so much pain was lying there on top of his pants, looking almost comical with its clumsy, mushroom-shaped head and the veins running helter skelter across its length.

"Are you joking?" She was trying to keep the sob out of her voice and it came overly hard.

"No! I'm serious." He rolled over to look at her with sheer adoration. "I want to have kids with you, I want to come home to you, I want to do this every night. I love you, Patience!"

"Sal, we're still in high school! How do you think you're going to support us?"

"I'll quit school. I've been thinking of leaving school anyway. I'll find a place for us. I got a job--I can support us both, no worry."

She gave a mirthless laugh. "With what, three dollars an hour? You're fucking delusional."

"I got connections. I could make a living--"

"We're not getting married. Get your head screwed on straight--"

The slap he delivered her knocked her head into the car door, and she saw stars.

Clutching her head, she turned frightened eyes onto her boyfriend.

His eyes made her freeze like a rabbit in the headlights. They were burning coal, livid and infernal. "You think that I can't support us? Can't hold down a job? Or is that what you expected?"

He pulled her forward by her throat. "Cause I'm just some fuckin lowlife, and I'll never be anything more than some scumbag working a dead-end job, cause I'm nothing but a criminal, cause I'll never be an honest man, for the same reason you won't introduce me to your parents. I killed people before, you know, Patience?" He punctuated his words a harsh shake of her head. His two fingers were cinching her throat, cutting off her air supply. Her gaze was starting to turn white. "I killed people and I'll do it again. I ain't a boy, Patience. I'm a MAN." 

He let her go. "And don't you ever forget it."

She clutched her throat, coughing weakly, her eyes overflowing with tears of pain and fright. Salvatore paused, then smashed his fist against the dashboard. "FUCK!"

They sat there like that, Sal still and Patience sobbing weakly, until Salvatore reversed the car.

The trip back was quiet. Salvatore made several attempts at conversation, but when she didn't respond, he lapsed into angry silence. He dropped her off at the corner without a goodbye.

During the walk back she felt like a medieval woman doing the walk of shame. The weight of what happened weighed on her as heavy as a mortar. All she wanted was to hide safe and sound, away from the horrors of the night. She wanted her mother's soft voice, her soft, comforting touch, her kind, gentle dark eyes. Whenever anything had gone wrong, whenever little Patience was crying, Mommy would hold her and put her on her lap and kiss her tears away.

She felt like bursting into tears when she saw the glowing orange squares of her windows come into view.

Patience rushed through the front door, waiting to topple into her mother's arms.

A very different scene greeted her.

A familiar elegant figure was sitting on her--her--couch, one leg crossed over the other. His white shirt was undone and unbuttoned down his chest, and his pants were loose on his hips.

He looked over slowly, putting glass of white wine down. A brassiere was lying discarded on the floor. "Did you come back from your prom date, Pazienza? With Salvatore?"

"It's eleven at night, why are you here?"  She was screaming and crying and did not need to deal with this and wanted him out.

"I think you know exactly why I'm here,  Patience." His voice was quiet in the silence of her house.

The realization hit her like an avalanche. Slow, creeping, then collapsing in a sudden wave.

"You... and Mommy..." her voice was small. She didn't want to believe it.

He was standing up to lean against the wall. His golden hair tumbled over his shoulders as he tilted his head to look at her. "It took you long enough."

Fresh tears stung her eyes as she struggled to comprehend the end of her happy child's version of her parents' marriage. "Mom! Mommy!"

"Your Mommy is not coming. Your Mommy is asleep and she won't wake up for quite a while."

He let a long, strong arm drape across the doorside. He stared at her slowly, intensely, his eyes dark and amused.

"Wouldn't," he said, "It be a tragedy if your father was to hear about this?"

The idea pierced her brain, sunk into it like a winestain. She thought of her parents divorcing. Marilyn and Richard. Those happy picnics, the fair trips, the family dinners, the household disappearing. She thought of Daddy finding out, and the despair she imagined on his face made fresh tears dot her cheeks. "No. No, please. Don't tell him--If, if it needs to, I will, but please, not you, not now--"

"And what would you do to make that a reality?" He stepped closer, until the scent of his cologne hit her. The sickly sweet made her gorge rise, as did his smile.

"No," she said as she realized his words. "No." She looked behind her, praying for her father to get back.

"Fuck you. I'm not--you can't blackmail me like this! I won't fuck you and you won't take advantage of me like this! I--" she was crying so hard she wanted to collapse. 

Leonardo took her wrist and slammed her against the wall. "Time is ticking, Patience. Your father is due back in an hour." A sly, vicious smile broke across his face. "Let's get to work."

He divested her of her dress, which fell in a crumpled heap on the ground. His body was warm and attentive, unlike Salvatore, moving carefully and warmly against her trembling body, supporting her against the wall and capturing her lips in a deep, soul-sucking kiss. She smelled his sick sweetness and felt the thick curly hair between her fists, and wanted to vomit.

And then he was in her. His hot stiffness was invading her damaged warmth, rubbing and sliding carefully over her wounded walls. His cock was already warm--from what, she did not know.

Leonardo was considerate, a slow, careful lover, seeking the ways to make her squeal. He touched her in the right ways, rubbing her clit and thumbing her nipples while he covered her mouth with his.

"You're wetter than I thought you'd be," he whispered. "Did you and your boyfriend have some fun before you came home?"

He separated, cock half out of her, and the thin strings of white plastered his cock.

She wanted to sob from shame.

"What a naughty girl," he whispered in her ear.

No. Not after Salvatore. Not after this.

He dropped to his knees in one fluid motion, and pressed his mouth to the apex of her thighs.

Her knees buckled as he gave his first suck, followed by a lave, drawing out the seed from her body.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" she could only helplessly cry as the tip of his tongue teased her sensitive lips and clit.

He withdrew his head to gaze into her eyes, and the infinity beyond them made her spine stiffen.

"The only seed you need to have in you is mine."

He stood up, and in the same movement, thrust into her. 

Her back weakened as he began his steady rhythm, hips thrusting back and forth measuredly until her belly began to build up with more sparks of electricity. 

She didn't want it, she didn't want any of it, all she wanted to do was flee to the refuge of her room and cry. But he wasn't letting go of her, he was hammering and kissing and pleasuring her, until the climax building up in her abused body was too intense to ignore.

The head of his cock twitched, and she knew he was close to release. "Wouldn't it be grand if we had a baby?" He murmured into her ear, punctuating his words with a warm, wet lick. "We'll have a little girl together. Oh, papa will be gone, promesso, and even your mother, if you so desire. Take it all in. Every bit. I'll make you a mother alright, and you'll bear my seed until your legs collapse and your body can't take it anymore."

His lovingly hissed promises sent her into a mindless state of panic, of giving up her school, her parents, of everything that ever meane anything to her. The vestiges of her encounter with Salvatore had put her in hysteria, and it had reached a breaking point. She drew her head back and slammed it into Leonardo's with a loud crack.

His cock pulled free, and she slammed onto the ground just in time for her to pull her green dress around her body and make a break for her room.

She slammed her door shut and locked it with the slim wire latch, which stretched taut when Leonardo tried to force his way in. "Pazienza."

The doorknob jiggled.

"Do you want your father to know about this?"

The chain snapped taut.

"Let me in."

She stood in the middle of her room, moonlight bathing her. "Go away."

"You'll be mine soon, anyway. Your mother will belong to me, and so will you. Why not make this easier on yourself?"

"Go away!" She crushed her hands over her ears and knelt down, and sobbed, praying for the clink of metal and the thuds to melt away and the sound of her father's boot's to come thudding in, but for that moment in time, all she could do was crouch and wail, and wish desperately for the night to end.

***

The next few weeks, Patience avoided Salvatore. She took a different route home, even though it was a mile out of her way. She never went to see him at the butcher shop.

She knew Leonardo kept visiting her mother. Many days she stayed awake, eyes wide open and tortured as she knew what was going on down the hall, trying to banish the faint moans from her subconscious. But she kept her door locked. Her window latched.

A month later, she missed her period.

[brokemultidotexe]

Unexpected Hero | PCY

↬ Pairing: Chanyeol x OC [Jia]

↬ Summary: Jia reached out to her best friend in her time of need but never expected Chanyeol to be the one to save her instead.

↬ Word Count: 3.2k

↬ Warning: None

↬ Genre: Friendship/Fluff

↬ Part: ONESHOT

You used to call me on my cell phone

Late night when you need my love

Call me on my cell phone

Late night when you need my love

And I know when that hotline bling

Chanyeol groaned trying to figure out where that god awful song was coming from. He sat up from the couch where he had passed out after having spent his first week back home with Baekhyun and Sehun.

Ever since I left the city,

You got a reputation for yourself now

Everybody knows and I feel left out

Girl you got me down, you got me stressed out

'Cause ever since I left the city

"Shut up" he groaned. Chanyeol rubbed his eyes trying rub the sleep out of them. He saw Jia's phone buzzing and blaring that horrible song. He would have to remember to change it once he grabbed his shit and went in his room. He stood up and gave it one last glare but his eyes zoned in on the name on the screen. Jia never called this late. He glanced down the hall at Daeun's room. She was asleep before he even came home. He walked over to the coffee table and grabbed it.

"Hey Jia, Dae-"

"He's such an asshole, I hate him. Remind me never to date again. Doesn't matter how perfect you think they are, all guys are pigs! Can you come get me?" Chanyeol could hear sobs between her slurred words.

"Jia? Are you okay?"

He heard silence on the other end other than sniffs every few seconds. "Chanyeol?"

"Yeah. Daeun’s asleep, but let me go wake her up." Chanyeol started towards Daeun’s room.

"No! It's fine. Don't wake her up. I can find a ride." He heard Jia trying her best attempt at steadying her voice but he could tell that she was crying and drunk.

"Where are you?" Chanyeol was already grabbing his keys and locking the door on his way out to his truck. She wouldn't answer but he could hear what sounded like shoes scraping over what he assumed was a sidewalk, or worse, a road. "Jia, don't you dare walk home. Tell me where you are!" His frustration evident.

She sighed finally relenting "Hoseok’s" she mumbled out an address.

"For the love of God just stay put, I'm on my way." Chanyeol climbed in his truck tossing his sister's phone into the passenger seat. He pulled away from the curb and was heading out to get Jia already going over the speed limit in hopes that she didn't decide to start being a dumbass and walk home at three in the morning. He put the address into the GPS on his phone. Luckily this dude's house was only 10 minutes away.

Chanyeol pulled up and saw Jia sitting on the curb in front of what was obviously a house party. He climbed out of his truck and walked over to her, "Jia?" her head popped up and Chanyeol could see the crushed look on her face. The tear stains and how she looked just as vulnerable as she had when her father died three years ago. He had known Jia for twelve years and the one thing he knew is that Jia didn't cry. He closed the space between them and sat down beside her. "Wanna talk about it?"

Jia shook her head; she didn't want to spill her dirty laundry to Daeun’s brother. While she'd known Chanyeol almost as long as her best friend, he annoyed the shit out of her. They bickered all the time to the point it drove Daeun insane. He'd been gone for the last 3 years for college which meant peace in the Park house. "No. I just want to go home." Jia went to stand up but stumbled right into Chanyeol as he stood up with her.

"Careful there." He muttered. "I'm not sure you want to be going home completely trashed. Just like you, your mother is a force to reckoned with and I don't feel like having to explain to her why I'm dropping you off while you're drunk off your ass."

"She's not home." She never was any more. Not that Jia really minded. Since her dad died whatever relationship she had with her mother died with him.

Chanyeol nodded and put his hand on her lower back guiding her to his truck. "Jia!" Chanyeol turned at the sound of her name. He looked the guy up and down as he ran over to them. He felt Jia shrink into his side as the guy made an attempt to grab her hand.

"Whoa dude. Who the fuck are you?" Chanyeol's protective instincts kicked into gear as he pulled Jia’s elbow gently until she was behind him.

"I'm her boyfriend." Chanyeol made the connection. This was the guy Jia had been dating for the last two years. He'd never met the guy but he had heard in passing how perfect he was which just irritated Chanyeol. He wanted to tell Daeun and Jia that no guy was perfect, they were all the same. They were all after one thing at that age.

"Fuck off Hoseok." Jia words were slurred but they had enough malice in them to make the guy flinch.

"Jia just let me explain!" Chanyeol was looking between them cautiously watching the exchange ready to pull Jia out of the situation and into the truck if it escalated.

"What's left to explain?! You've had a girlfriend for the last six years and you failed to mention this in the two years we were together? Not only that but I had to find out in front of EVERYONE as she practically shoved her tongue down your throat!" Jia stumbled but Chanyeol caught her arm to steady her.

"Don't touch her!"

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow to this Hoseok guy. "Excuse me?"

"I said don't touch her." Chanyeol heard the threat in the guy's voice but tried his best not to laugh in his face. If the guy even thought of trying something he would lay his ass out. "Who the hell are you anyways? You need to leave." He watched as the guy tried to reach for Jia again.

Chanyeol's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, "Unless you want me to break your wrist you better keep your hands to yourself." The guy pulled his arm away looking at Chanyeol. He could tell that the guy was sizing him up and at this point seeing Jia so distraught and hearing what this guy did he would love for the guy to give him any excuse to beat his face until he was unrecognizable.

"Jia." she heard the pleading in his voice but she felt nothing. She felt numb to his requests and advances. All she felt was shame and anger. She felt shame for ever giving him the time of day and letting him humiliate her on their graduation night. But the anger was the one thing completely rushing through her veins.

"Stop!" Her eyes glaring at Hoseok. She was drunk and her world was spinning but at this point she didn't know if it was because of the alcohol or because the guy she loved turned her world upside down.

"Jia just say the word." Chanyeol whispered to her and their eyes connected.

"Take me home." She mumbled.

Chanyeol nodded and put his hand on her lower back again to lead her to the car. She still couldn't walk for shit and he wasn't about to let her eat it on the sidewalk.

"You're going to let some stranger take you home? You're better than that Jia. Don't sleep with some prick who only wants a night to take advantage of you because you're mad at me. Just stay here. I'll leave you alone, but don't leave with him. I don't trust him."

Jia spun around wobbling a little bit but Chanyeol caught that look in her eyes. She had closed the space between herself and Hoseok and her hand connected with his face causing him to stumble and look at her with wide eyes. Jia was going back for seconds her anger taking over. Chanyeol caught her by the hips with his arms holding her back as she was screaming at Hoseok and trying to get away from his hold.

"Fuck you Hoseok! I don't just sleep with anyone! It took me a year until I would sleep with you and it fucking sucked! And you want to bitch about trust? I've known Chanyeol for 12 years!" Jia was spitting angry and Chanyeol was having a hard time keeping her from pummeling this guy's face in.

"Alright, babe." The term of endearment slipped out as he grunted, he started dragging her to his truck. For a girl so tiny the strength she had when she was mad surprised Chanyeol.

Jia ended up breaking away from his grip and he managed to grab her wrist before she could continue what she had started. "Chanyeol let me go! I want to kick his ass!"

Chanyeol sighed and ended up picking her up and just throwing her over his shoulder, "Well I don't feel like bailing your ass out of jail." He set her down in front of the passenger door to his truck and pulled it open. "Get in the truck." It wasn't a request it was an order.

"God dammit Jia! Just listen to me! I didn't even know she would show up!"

Chanyeol turned around and pushed Hoseok back, "If you don't back the hell off I'm going to finish what she started and I don't mind spending a night in jail for putting you in your place." Chanyeol's temper was rising. The guy was relentless and it was obvious that Jia wanted nothing to do with him. Hoseok was rushing forward and pushed Chanyeol into the passenger door forcing it closed barely missing Jia's leg as she pulled herself into the truck. Chanyeol snapped. He grabbed Hoseok by his shirt and slammed him against the side of the truck. "I'm going to say this once and only once. You stay the fuck away from Jia. Don't touch her, don't call her, hell don't even think about her. I will end your sorry ass if I find out you even look in her direction. This is the only warning you're going to get." Chanyeol pushed the guy from his truck towards his house causing him to trip on the curb and fall on his ass. Chanyeol shot him a glare before walking around the front of his truck climbing inside.

Jia was staring at Chanyeol with her mouth open. She had never seen him lose control. Sure she had heard about it before, but she'd never witnessed it. The whole interaction with him and Hoseok surprised her. After Chanyeol had put her in the car her energy evaporated. Now she was tired and she just wanted to go home. She kept her eyes forward when Chanyeol got in the truck not wanting to make eye contact with Hoseok. She felt the truck lurch forward before pulling away from the curb shooting out into the street.

Chanyeol had gotten Jia home and while she told him that he could go home he insisted on staying. She wasn't going to argue. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to be alone. So they ended up out in her backyard by the pool with a fire going in the fire pit. She had her feet tucked underneath her and ended up spacing out while looking at the flames.

Chanyeol was looking at Jia. He wanted to make it better but he knew only time could heal wounds like this. He'd been watching her for 10 minutes and she never moved she just continued to stare into the fire. "Jia?" Jia's eyes flicked up to his. "You know you deserve better right?"

The softness in Chanyeol's voice took her by surprise. Part of her was still trying to understand the outburst Chanyeol had at Hoseok’s. She knew he wasn't a complete asshole and he would have stuck up for any girl, but he had lost all composure. He could normally keep himself  passive in most situations and she'd heard about how once he hits his breaking point he blows his top. "Why?"

Chanyeol looked at her like she'd grown three heads, "Why what? Why you deserve better?"

"No. Why did you do that back there?"

"Because no one deserves to be talked to like that or treated like that; I would have done the same for Daeun." He shrugged.

"I guess I'll always be your little sister's best friend. I don't need a big brother Chanyeol." she mumbled.

Chanyeol ran his hand over his tired face. "I know you don't. I'm not here as a big brother. You have never needed anyone to stand up for you; you have always given everyone a run for their money. Why do you think we fight so much? You're stubborn as hell and you put me in my place. You're my sister's age, yet you're smarter than most people I go to school with. You know just how to get under my skin and annoy me. You may annoy the shit out of me, but I'm not your brother. I respect you Jia and it's time for a guy to do the same for you. That they see all the things I see in you. You're beautiful and smart. You keep me on my toes and you're sarcastic and while some may not appreciate that, I do. You deserve someone that knows what they have when they've got it."

Jia was speechless. She had no idea what to say. She never would have guessed that he even paid attention to anything about her other than she was his annoying sister's best friend. "Thanks Chanyeol." It came out as a whisper.

Chanyeol leaned forward with his arms on his knees, "Look I may not be able to take the pain away, but I know something that might make you feel a little better." Jia raised an eyebrow. "You're one of those girls that keep all those memories with boyfriends in a box or some shit, right?" Jia's face got hot and she was so glad that the only light was the flicker from the flames.

She wasn't sure she wanted to answer him but he stayed there looking at her waiting for an answer. She slowly nodded.

"Excellent. Go get it."

"What?!" Jia sat up fully untucking her feet and placing them on the ground.

"Do you trust me?" Jia slowly nodded her head again, "Then go get the damn box and let's get this therapy session started."

Chanyeol waited as Jia walked inside and got whatever had those memories in it. She kept looking at him like crazy but that was probably because he had a huge smile on his face when she came back. He looked at the box. It wasn't a shoe box, it was an actual box. "Damn girl." He saw the pink rise on her cheeks.

She sat down the box on one of the chairs, "Okay now what?"

"We burn it."

"Excuse me?"

Chanyeol rolled his eyes, "You heard me. We burn it." She didn't move or say anything. Chanyeol took a step closer and put his hand on her arm. "You're not getting back together with him are you?" Chanyeol hoped she would say no. He didn't want to think about her going back to that asshole. He'd never treat her the way she deserved.

Jia shook her head. Chanyeol walked over to the box and picked the first thing on top, "What's this?"

Jia cleared her throat, "A letter that he slipped in my locker."

Chanyeol handed her the letter, "Will you do the honors?"

Jia snorted at his try at professionalism. She took the letter and bit her lip. Once she did this she couldn't go back. She would be purging her world of Jung Hoseok. She glanced at Chanyeol and he gave her a reassuring smile. She tossed the letter into the flames and watched it curl up until it turned to ash.

Chanyeol clapped his hands jerking Jia from her thoughts, "ALRIGHT!" he bellowed and Jia laughed which made him smile. "What's next?"

Jia went through each item in the box and ended up starting to tell him what each thing was. He seemed disgusted at the appropriate times which put her in fits of laughter.

"So did he mold himself after some romantic interest in a chick flick? Everything he said and did is so cliché and full of bullshit." Jia laughed at Chanyeol. Always the one to tell it like it is.

"I really wish I had been here to steer you away from him." Chanyeol sobered up the atmosphere with that statement. Jia looked at him and gave him a small smile.

"I know Chanyeol." Chanyeol's eyes were staring a hole through her and she felt herself blush, although Chanyeol could see it this time because the sun had started to rise. She cleared her throat, "Ok last thing." She pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Liquor from the party I met him at."

Chanyeol watched her unscrew the cap and tilt the bottle before he grabbed her hand stopping her, "Jesus Christ, if you don't feel like losing your eyebrows I wouldn't start pouring liquor into a fire."

Jia gasped at her stupidity and her face burned in embarrassment. Chanyeol took the bottle from her and poured it into the grass.

"There. You are finally free of doucheface." Chanyeol smirked at her. "So do you feel any better?" He saw her smile and nod. It was so nice seeing her laugh and smile for the last few hours. He didn't like seeing her cry. Although seeing her lay a solid punch on that asshole's face filled him with pride. He felt Jia wrap her arms around his middle.

"Thank you Chanyeol."

He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head, "No problem babe." He closed his eyes and found himself enjoying the moment. He dropped a soft kiss on the top of her head and leaned down by her ear. "And for the record, you're not just my little sisters best friend. You're my friend too."

Jia found her heart racing at his words. She wasn't deaf to his slip of the tongue, nor the feeling of his lips on her head. This was a side of Chanyeol she had never seen before and it caused a bloom of affection in her chest. “You've always been more than Daeun's big brother, to me.” she whispered and she felt his hold on her tighten. As the night went on she felt the shift in their relationship and maybe, just maybe, she'd found a friend in Chanyeol.

[zoraclover777]

Halfway Happy

[ Part 8 ]

[ Part 1 ] // [ Part 2 ] // [ Part 3 ] // [ Part 4 ] // [ Part 5 ] // [ Part 6 ] // [ Part 7 ]

AN: Let's get back to this, shall we? (P. S. I do not own the GIF of Steve spinning the bat!!!!)

—————

“You're thinking of what? Are you fucking stupid? You could get yourself killed!” Billy yelled at her, watching as she rolled up the sleeves of the new shirt she changed into.

“Now, you can see why I have to go. Jane, Jane could die if I'm not there. Hopper too, hell, maybe Will's mom. I'm not letting that happen.” Y/N spoke with a stern voice, eyes meeting his. “So, piss off. It's not like you give a shit anyway, Hargrove.”

“Listen, fuck, just listen to me, okay—”

“Didn't I say piss off?”

“You're not going.” A voice agreed from behind her, making Y/N chuckle and turn around. “You're not going to die, risking your life for us. Jane can do this.”

“For once, we fucking agree on something, Harrington.”

She bit her tongue, turning back away before placing her hands on the table. That's when Y/N’s brain processed everything. She got mad, no, she got pissed.

She wasn't going to be able to go. She wasn't going to be able to save her sister, or Hopper, or even Joyce—hell, she'd barely known Joyce and she already cared for her—and Will, Will's going to blame it all on her. She was furious. Slamming her hands on the table multiple times, she screamed.

Billy and Steve had clenched their bodies, waiting for the force of Y/N’s mind to throw them around.

But, it never came.

“No.” She whispered. Falling to her knees, tears fell instantly. “No, no, no. No, fuck, no, this can't be happening.”

—————

They didn't know what to do when Y/N had finally gotten up after crying and walked to the front door. Billy looked at Steve, and Steve looked at Billy, but their eyes came back to her.

“We're going. End of discussion.” She said, opening the door.

“Hey, you don't have your fucking powers any more, doll. You don't just get to push us around anymore.” Hargrove spoke up as he walked up to the girl, his fingertips lightly touching the front door. “So go sit the fuck down, and wait for everyone to get back.” With that, he pushed the door closed.

“Don't fucking tell me what to do.” Y/N uttered, eyes filled with anger. She would break his fucking neck if she could.

“Listen, princess—”

“Call me another name like that, and I'll knock you the fuck out, Hargrove.”

“I would really like to see you try.”

“Okay.”

Before Steve could comprehend what was happening, her fist smacked right into Billy's face—well, his nose and face, she'd punched him, twice. His head made a sharp left turn before he fell to the ground, unconscious and blood left pouring out of his nose. Her eyes caught Steve's and she sighed.

“Well, I mean, you did tell him.”

—————

“What happened to my brother?” Max pointed out the figure lying out cold on the floor, blood slightly dried now.

“I told him I’d knock him out—”

“He didn't believe her.” Steve finished.

“Well, okay then.”

“Thanks for the friendly chat and catching up while we've been in the basement or an hour or so, guys, but, uh, we have trouble.” Dustin spoke, pointing out the window. A small demogorgon was creeping up to the house, hissing and growling as it smelt blood.

And life.

“What do we do?” Mike asked, biting his lip slightly as he looked at everyone.

“Y/N could use her mi—” Lucas started but was interrupted when he saw Steve using his hand to motion it back and forth in front of his throat. “Wha?”

“Remember when I left to use the bathroom?” Max blurted out, eyes staring at the floor.

“Yeah?” Will questioned, voice fading at the end.

“I saw it, Steve.” She said, looking at the teen in his eyes and then at Y/N. “I saw you having your seizure. And it scared the hell out of me.” Max whispered, turning back to her friends. “That's why I came back to the basement, looking sick.”

“So that means—?” Lucas questioned, still not understanding.

“It means she doesn't have them, now. Or they're blocked.” Steve said, standing up and walking to the kitchen. When he reappeared—after stepping over Billy's body—he had his bat.

“Are those—?”

“Yeah.”

“And you—?”

“Kill those things with this, yes.” Steve said, twisting the bat in his hands. “Maybe we should move him. It would suck if he were to get eaten, or something. Keep that door closed?” He questioned Y/N, and watched her nod.

He placed the bat on the ground and helped the kids drag Billy's body to the next room with ease.

Y/N’s body jerked forward as the monster outside slammed into the door, trying to make its entrance. Steve had placed him down without a care, and his ears immediately caught Y/N’s voice from the other room.

“Steve!” She yelled, attempting to press even more weight against the door. “Steve! I can't—”

—————

His eyes snapped open and he stared at the ceiling for a good moment, it was twenty minutes, but in his mind, it was hours, before he heard a scream of ‘Steve!’ coming from a room, he definitely wasn't in. Standing up in one quick motion, the teen rubbed his nose and made a confused face before pulling his hand away.

“Steve! I can't—”

The dried blood on his fingertip made him come to a realization and he clenched his teeth together.

She fucking did knock me out.

Did he have time to actually think about it? No.

So he ran out of the room he was in and into the living room, his eyes widening at the sight before him. Y/N was pressed up against the door, attempting to keep, whatever the fuck, it was out of the house.

“Doll, what the hell are you doing out here by yourself?” He questioned, still attempting to rub the blood off from under his nose.

“Billy, Billy, listen, leave—” She attempted to warn him, but it was too late. The demogorgon had finally broken its way through the door, throwing Y/N on the ground in a swift motion.

“Y/N!”

“Not today, asshole.” Steve's voice blurted out, bat in hand. “Come on.” He whistled to the monster, backing away slowly as he does so.

It definitely took the bait, as it followed Harrington, hissing and spitting. Suddenly, it lunged. It didn't get far though, not before Steve smacked the shit out of it with the nail-ridden bat. It fell to the floor before picking its body up and turning to the male. It's face opened up before running at Harrington.

Smack.

Squelch.

Thump.

Steve held onto the bat, looking down at the creature with a disgusted look on his face. His eyes turned to Y/N, realising she wasn't by the front door—there wasn't even a door there, anymore—and looked around. His eyes shifted to movement on the other side of the room and there she was.

Eyes filled with worry, lip smeared with blood, but still confident, and Steve, Steve had never seen someone more beautiful in his entire life. “Hey.” He said to her, smile gracing his face.

“Hey.” Y/N breathed out, wiping the blood off her lip and hissing when she realized there was a cut. “Fuck, that hurt.”

“Was, was that the fucking creature you were talking about?” Hargrove suddenly sputtered out of his mouth, body still frozen in place.

“Yeah, and good morning. Get used to it, he—” she pointed to the dead monster on the ground, “brought friends. Hope you can fight.” The words came out easy and she licked the cut on her lip before getting in stance. “I didn't sign up for this.”

—————

He could. Billy Hargrove could fight, and she was shocked, to say the least. She wasn't shocked about him fighting, no, she was shocked how easy he took this whole—Hawkins had made a lab, which created El and you, and the Upside Down. Which, in returned, haunted you all forever.

“Did you know that this is fucking bullshit?” Billy spoke, throwing the shovel down on the ground. “Maxine and I moved here, to get away from this shit—”

“Wait, it's happening in California, too?” She questioned, turning to the male. “This is happening in California, and you just ran away?!” Y/N was pissed as she punched him in the chest as hard as she could, but he had ended up holding her wrists and pulling her to him.

“What if they're all connected?” Mike said, brain filled with ideas. The kids started making a plan, all of them butting in.

“All we'd have to do—” Max.

“Is go down to the tunnels—” Lucas

“And set that shit on fire!” Dustin.

“Hey, hey, hey, that is not happening.” Before he even knew what happened, a voice chimed in.

“It's closed. The kids are right, we have to burn the tunnels. Hargrove, we'll be having a conversation, later.” Hopper said, taking off his jacket before sitting on the couch. Eleven followed, wiping her nose multiple times before she ran to Y/N, hugging tightly.

“You're back.” Jane said, hugging tightly.

“Wha—” your eyes widened as you looked over and tilted your head to the side slightly, Mike's backpack falling off the table. Smiling widely, you threw your head back and laughed.

“Yes, Jane. I'm back.”

—————

AN: do not fret, i am here with another part to Halfway Happy and there's still so much to transfer over here.

[written-within-the-stars]

Girls Night In - Solo by Harper

‘GIRLS NIGHT!’

Both #Kenzi and #Jenna pushed their way past me as I opened that door for them. I'd just gotten home after a hard day at the practice with a plan to cook myself a quick something and eat in front of the tv.

With exams and the need to study, it had been so long since I'd just chilled out in the evening and watched something. But I got a text from #Kenzi telling me she was picking up #Jenna and they were coming over with Chinese food and wine. And here they are.

"I'll get the glasses" #Jenna shouts running off to the kitchen.

"I'll put the food out on the coffee table in the living room." #Kenzie shouted out running into the living room.

“And I'll just stand here and let you both run around my home?” That made them both laughed and then #Kenzie was back dragging into the living room.

"You got the fire started and I know there is a season of Game of Thrones to be watched on TiVo Harps. We need girl’s night!"

She was right, we didn't see much of one another these days. She was busy with her new boyfriend #Seth who worked at the local garage. And #Jenna was busy these days too. I didn't know if it was with #Damian, or just that she'd found a new hobby.

I'd not had time to speak with her about her last visit, and I didn't want to push her to speak. “Did you get me some egg rolls, you always forget to get those?”

#Kenzie pulled the box of egg rolls out just as #Jenna joins us. "Kenzie orders then before anything else this time, just so she wouldn't forget them."

Pouring out three glasses as we all grab our boxes and start to eat. The girls pick up their glasses and nudge one another. Making face at one another mouthing "ask her", "no, you ask her". It would be funny, but I had a feeling I knew what it was about.

“Just ask me and get it over with please ladies.” Biting into an egg roll watching them both.

"What? We didn't want to ask." I stop #Kenzie “Clearly you do, so just ask it Kenz.” She eyes #Jenna and shifts in her spot.

"Well we just heard, well, you know.” I wasn't going to make is easy on them. And I took another bite from the egg roll.

"Well. Ok so did Kai ask you out? As in on a date?" #Jenna was half jumping in the spot and I rolled my eyes at them swallowing my food.

“Do I need to ask who even told you both?” They both giggled and spoke together.

"Anna" Picking up my glass of wine and taking a small sip from it.

“I should have known she was eves dropping.” They both screamed making me jump out of my skin.

"Oh my, oh my, oh my. I knew it!" #Kenzie screams.

"It's about time he got on with it. Anyone could see that there was something there between you both". #Jenna screamed and I just shook my head.

“It's just a date, we get on as friends. That doesn't mean it will work out as anything else.” Playing with my food as they both looked at me dumbfounded.

#Kenzie was the first to speak. "Harps, not all men are the same. We have had our bad luck in the past but you can't keep thinking everyone will betray you like Adam did."

Taking another sip from my glass listening to her. "Harps you know Kai, you know he is nothing like the others. You saw that ex-wife of his. And he is still holding on to the fact that there is someone out there for him to love. And he clearly is seeing that in you."

Shaking my head “Don't talk about his ex wife like that Jenna, we have no right to judge or comment on their marriage.”

They both nod understanding why I was saying that. "Sorry Harps, I didn't mean it like that."

I smile leaning over and grabbing another egg roll.

"Look Harps, it's a first date. It's meant to be fun and you know. Give you all those feelings inside."

I laughed, and so did they. “It feels. I don't know. I'm scared. But I'm looking forward to it too.”

#Jenna whoops and jumps up off the sofa. "Now we are talking! This is more like the Harper we all know and love."

She ran off out of the room, leaving Kenzie and I looked after her. “Now where are you going woman?”

All we heard was her voice. "I'm going to find and set out your outfit for your date!"

#Kenzie jumped up grabbing her glass of wine as well as #Jenna's and ran after her. Now they were talking to one another as if I wasn't even in the house. "Something Sexy, but at the same time that says, "I'm not easy dude." also something that says, "come and get me", and then."

I roll my eyes standing in the doorway drinking my wine and watching them both as they start to pull out dresses and skirts.

"What about this skirt with that black top you got last week? I think it will look good" #Kenzie tells #Jenna.

"Yeah, but I think a dress will be the right way to go. Kai's eyes didn't leave Harps the last time we were out."

I moved to go sit on my bed, this was friendship. This was what it felt like to have friends who were like your sisters. I never felt alone when these two were around. And I was glad to have their help. Not that I'd tell them that, some things are best kept to yourself, I think. This was going to be a long night.

“You both keep going, I'll go get some wine for us all.” They wave me off and keep planning out what I should wear on my "date".