#it gives neil a fucking edge and go “see? see? i told you not to trust people like them”

[adelacreations]

Truly even if Dustin, Lucas and Mike got upset with Steve about sending Max home with her brother. If anything, it should be pointed out that they knew her for what?

A week?

And they brought her into a situation where she could potentially get seriously hurt or DIE. Looking at Mike too honestly cause he witnessed soliders getting killed in the hospital. Scientists and BOB getting murdered by demodogs.

[sparkledfirecracker]

Guilty Pleasure

Request: Andy fucking his sister in law while Laurie is out of town for a week.

Word count: 5262

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit sexual content, explicit language, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cheating but not really, spanking, fingering, penetrative sex, sibling rivalry, semi-bullying by a sibling, mention of re-marrying, porn without a real plot. If I missed any, let me know.

A/N: This contains cheating, do not read or interact if you're sensitive to familial betrayal. Jacob does not exist in this story. Anything you read is fictional and not based on actual events. This is not beta’d. Happy 2023, nonnie! May it be a great filthy and panty-wetting season. Tumblr ate your ask and I’ve tried to post this 3 times now. Hopefully this meets your expectations and thank you for dropping off the request (I’m sorry it took me so long) 😘. Enjoy!

I do not give permission to repost, publish or use any of my stories, that counts for media entertainment too. Reblogging, liking, commenting and ghost reading on the other hand is all allowed.

By clicking ‘keep reading’ or ‘read more’ you agree to be 18 or older.

Your relationship with your sister had never been loving, it always contained rivalry. Having wanted to curse your father for remarrying. Laurie was always being picked as the favourite in your eyes.

That is why it had surprised you the minute she had asked you to check in on her husband. Stating she was going to be out of town for the week. As a good sister you had agreed to her request, it also came in handy that you enjoyed spending time with Andy. He was generally nice and on top of that, good company.

Since you both worked together at the district attorney’s office, it immediately eased the awkwardness. With a slip of the tongue, you had offended Andy during lunch. Stating that you never had seen ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’. Andy practically had demanded you to come over for dinner and watch the film together.

As the day came to an end. You had declined his offer to give you a ride as you still had some errands to run for Neil. Andy had huffed at the mention of his name. Muttering that Neil hadn’t been worth all the extra hours so that he could get praise for the work you had done.

It had been almost two hours later than initially planned. “Andy, I’m home.” You yelled excitedly through the house as you stepped through the front door.

His muscular frame appeared in the opened-up arch of the kitchen. With a wide smirk, he placed his hands on his hips and scanned you from head to toe. A comforting warmth wrapped around you like a blanket preventing the cold from creeping in.

You weren’t prepared for the intrusive thoughts to flood back the way they did. Laurie had won the bet between you both all those years ago. It wasn’t so much a bet, it was more a way to give you stick for not going after what you desired. Your heart shattered the moment she told you she started to develop feelings for Andy.

Seeing Andy like this made all the old feelings resurface. The doting husband waiting for his partner to come home. A soft yearning for his touch or those lingering eye contact moments. Mentally rolling your eyes when you looked straight at his wedding ring. Wanting to curse yourself for having allowed their relationship to go on this way.

Their marriage was based on a lie. Laurie didn’t love him the way you did, all this yearning had stopped the moment they said “I do”. Only to find out now that those feelings never had been gone. Just stuffed and locked in an imaginary filing cabinet.

Insufferable reminders of what could’ve been clouding your head. That’s where Laurie thrived, your discomfort. And it had become her running joke, teasing you for fawning over the man that she fucked at night.

“I hope you like pizza,” Andy let out a heavy sigh, “I’ve ruined the pasta.” He confessed, supporting an embarrassed look. Leaning back against the counter of the kitchen island. His hands gripping the edge so tightly it almost seemed like it drained the blood.

Was he nervous? He couldn’t be, he had never been nervous when you were around in the past. Though the tension between you both could be cut by a knife.

“I brought beer.” You smiled, holding up the six-pack in your hand breaking the slightly awkward silence.

“You didn’t have to.”

“It’s not polite to come empty-handed.”

“You’re family, you’re not obliged to bring anything.” He gave you a smile grabbing the six-pack from your hands. Making his way towards the fridge, opening the door, and looking back at you. “Want one?”

“I prefer a cold one.”

He nodded, grabbing two bottles from a shelf while sliding your six-pack into one of the empty spots. He cracked open both bottles, handing you one.

A polite conversation followed as you settled yourselves in the living room. With the amount of pizza ordered, you suggested doing a taste test. Andy admitted that he didn’t know what you would like and had ordered multiple choices while he handed you a notepad and pen to scribble down your ratings of each slice.

He had started playing Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and you were so invested in the film. Almost blocking out where you were, losing track of your surroundings as the television sucked you into the story at least so you had hoped.

Your your mind wandered to other things. What would life look like if you and Andy had started dating? What if Laurie never had acted upon her impulses? He kept it neat and groomed, the bristles must be so soft. His beard would surely feel great on your skin. Those hands were large and probably very skilled. The way he gripped his beer bottle with precision and delicacy. The motion made you swallow hard, shaking your head slightly to gain back focus.

The thought of those fingers deeply buried inside you made you clench. How the curl of gesture would send you over the edge with much skill. His perfect lips wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking your core. Pleasing you in any and every way no man had ever done before.

You blamed it on the way he walked around the office. He truly must be very well hung. The way his bulge had once been shown and on full display. Remembering the way he had looked back at you through narrowed eyes. As if to tell you that you had been the reason his pants got awfully tight.

With a choked breath, your chest warmed at the sound of his laughter. Clamping a hand over your mouth when you let out a squeak from the slight shock. His eyes burned holes into your skin as you felt him watch. Though it was hard not to do the same every time he laughed at a funny part, either taking a sip of the beer in his hand or taking a bite from his pizza.

“You know you can sit on the couch, right?” The question sounded more like a demand, but you tried to avoid his gaze at all costs.

“I know, but I like sitting on the floor.” It was a swift reply, gulping your beer. Nervous feelings grew in the pit of your stomach.

“When your ass gets all stiff and tingling, you know where you can get comfortable.”

You almost choked on the gulp of beer you had just taken. Coughing and laughing as you tried to breathe. Andy slid over, softly patting and rubbing your back.

“Don’t say things like that Andy, I could’ve killed myself.”

“As long as I’m here, you’re free from harm’s reach.”

“How noble, my knight in shining armour.”

“Is that how you’ve been seeing me for all those years?”

His gloating face said it all. He knew about your crush on him. How? Did Laurie tell him? Was it all those stolen glances in the office or the ones here on his couch in his own home? Maybe even all the tortuous looks and hurrying out of the room whenever he was near in your college days?

You felt your face heat up, trying to hide your embarrassed expression. Blood pumped through your veins like it was about to blow your eardrums.

“I’ve known for years.” Andy confessed, “I must say I’m amazed and angered at the same time. You have denied yourself to try and win me for you. Were you too shy to ask me out for that sorority party?”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. There was no turning back. Lying to him or yourself wasn’t going to help either of you.

“Yes.”

“I need a little more words than that, sweetheart.” He inched his way closer to you.

“Yes, I was shy.” The lump in your throat felt uncomfortable.

“Why did you let Laurie treat you the way she did? Why did you let her win?”

“I don’t know. I should go home.” You rushed, trying to get up and run away from this mess that was unfolding. Instead, you were slammed back down, air left your lungs as you collided with Andy’s thighs. One hand kept you pinned down on his lap. The other massaging and squeezing your ass.

“It’s always been you that I truly wanted,” a warmth flooded your chest again. “Imagine my disappointment when you didn’t object during our wedding. Making me feel miserable and stuck in this marriage for years.”

Andy’s hand rubbed the globe of your ass, you gasped when his hand smacked your ass. Your muscles contracted under the impact but melted into the obtained position over his lap. The realization of him punishing you for all your past mistakes went straight to your core. Biting down on your lip to stifle the moan from breaking free.

“I’m sorry, Andy.”

“Are you really, sweetheart?” Andy asked, leaving another imprint on your ass.

“Yes.” A desperate cry for him

“How about you being exceptionally quiet and showing me how well you can take your punishment.” The question was laced with a promise. A firm one at that. “I’d like to hear how sorry you really are.”

You simply nodded bracing for impact, but it faded to surprise when he lifted your skirt. Andy hummed with satisfaction as your lace panties and garter set became exposed.

With each collision of Andy’s hand, your ass became more and more sore. Every harsh slap felt more raw than the previous one. Making you bite your lower lip, trying to keep the sounds muffled and still.

“Are you going to be good for me?”

“Yes.” You replied,

“I think you can do much better than that.”

Another smack burned on your skin. You nodded your head, crying out an “I’m sorry, Andy.”

You were surprised when Andy helped you sit back on the couch. Hissing at the burn of your ass on the fabric. Your mascara had stained your cheeks from the few tears that had slipped from the arousing pain.

His fingers softly brushed your cheek. Gathering the melted makeup or maybe even smearing it further. There was no telling in his movement.

“You look beautiful.” The whisper was barely audible and spoken with true admiration. Without thought, you pressed your lips against his. Feeling him smile into this moment. Probably because it had been the first time since you took charge of what felt right.

“Tell me you want this.” Andy breathed against your lips, as the kiss broke. Your eyes flickered open, meeting his gaze. Worry and hope both dancing in the blue hue of his eyes.

“More than anything.” It wasn’t a lie, but it would be wrong to act upon these feelings. “We can’t.”

“Laurie won’t mind. She doesn’t love me the way you love me.”

“But-”

His lips interrupted the speech you were about to recite. Guilt clearly wasn’t on Andy’s mind. The way his tongue explored every part of your mouth like he was on a scavenger hunt. Stroking, teasing, pleasing and obscenely filthy. He made you hungry for more.

Not even your wildest dreams could’ve prepared you for the searing passion. His large hands cupped your face guiding you to lie down. The moment he had you underneath him, his hands ripped your silk shirt with haste. Neither of you cared enough for the pearl buttons that flew across the room.

With a darkened hunger he glanced back at you. Toying your nipples through the laced fabric of your bra between his fingers. You arched off the couch as he pebbled and tugged on your breasts. Swiftly pulling the delicate lace down, taking one of your boobs into his mouth. You whined at the erotic swirl of his tongue, nothing but lustful precision.

His hands found the zipper on your skirt. Tugging the item off, discarding it on the floor. Running his hands over your garter belt. The look on Andy’s face said it all, he hadn’t seen anything like it in a long time. Making you his shiny new toy, ready to be devoured and owned.

You leaned up, cupping his face and pulling him into a desperate kiss. Feeling his hand smoothly moving over your panties. Your body had now become his playground, making you desperate for him. With a pout he broke of your kiss, searching for your approval as he pulled aside the material of your panties. A softened smile was enough for him to slide his fingers through your heat, coating them in your juices.

Andy brought his finger to his mouth, groaning loudly as he licked them off. You tried to look for that one moment where you would both find a reason to break this off. Yet all you found was a deepened craving to need one another.

You watched Andy lean down. Kissing his way around your thighs. The soft hair of his beard tickling and teasing your skin. Gasping at the tender lick from the tip of his tongue against your clit followed by a gentle kiss. Another lick gathered more of your soaked core. Sucking on the pulsating nub. His tongue explored every crease and crevice of your cunt.

The throbbing ache builded between your legs while Andy gently licked through your folds. Circling the tip of his tongue over your clit, making sure to tease you enough until you let out a soft whine. With every sound you made from his touch, he sucked down and placed a kiss.

He spread your legs wide, needing more space than you currently allowed him. For a moment shame coursed your body, closing your legs as far as he allowed you to. You covered your face with your arms as if to shield your emotions from him. Andy’s hands squeeze your thighs harshly, making you inhale sharply.

“Don’t you ever dare hide from me.” He warned, peeling your arms off your face. A fiery kiss pressed against your lips. Your moan seemed enough for Andy to start more exploration. Leaving your lips, pecking your jaw. Nibbling your ear, tracing your neck. Sucking, licking and teasing in order to make you focus on the sinful pleasure.

The suck of his mouth on your breasts made you arch further into him. The way he played your body like a fiddle. Making you sing a different tune. Allowing you to float on cloud nine when he had barely done anything yet.

The softness of his hands stroked your legs. Comforting you in this odd situation. Making sure to let you know it was okay to give in to him and enjoy this just as much as he did. Your panties were hooked around his fingers. Letting them be pulled down and thrown into the room.

The grip of his hands was a little rougher when he pulled your legs apart again. Coming face to face with your soaked cunt. You tried to read his face, a certain glow of admiration spreading across his features.

“Beautiful.” He praised. The whisper of his voice penetrated your mind. He clearly longed for you just as much as you longed for him.

His large palms held your ass, while the tips of his thumbs explored the outer edges of your pussy. For a moment you stopped breathing at his gentle touch. Juvenile play as if he was exploring what stroke would give him a reaction.

You watched Andy lean forward, feeling his tongue toy with your clit. Flat swipes, gentle circles and a rhythmic change between a slow and faster pace was enough to make you cry out for him. Your hands found the strands of his fluffed-up hair. Making sure he knew you appreciated his delicate touch.

His tongue swiped back and forth through your lips. Sucking his lips around your clit as he reached the top. Lewd noises filled the air as he drank up your juices.

His possession became clear when you tried to shift into another position. His large hands held you in place. Making sure you felt every bristle of his beard and movement of his mouth. His tongue sank deeper and with more pressure like a deprived man who had been kept from his dirty little secret.

You tugged his hair at the eliciting feeling building in the pit of your stomach. His beard rubbed your sensitive cunt as his tongue worked its magic. The feeling too overwhelming making your hands try to stop him. Andy hadn’t waited long to stop his actions. He furrowed his brows in annoyance.

“When I’m down here, you don’t get to interrupt me. Understood?”

“Yes-yes.” You stammered out under his gaze.

With a single nod, you felt his tongue deep between the lips of your pussy again. Delicate kitten licks toying with you and with each moan it spurred him on to fasten his actions. Burying his face for a deeper taste of you.

With a harsh suck, he popped your clit from his mouth. You felt him smiling against your pussy. Happy to be between your legs. Allowing you to play and tug his hair as long as you didn’t interrupt his meal.

His tongue flicked your pulsing clit while his thumb rubs up and down your hole. Gathering all of the dripping nectar with his mouth. Feeling the pressure of his other finger digging into your ass. Your hips bucked for a second and he pushed his thumb in.

Sobbing at the assault on your cunt only allowed for his tongue to rapidly flick and swirl your clit. The thrust of his thumb didn’t feel big enough. Only making you whine and whimper for more of his touch.

Another finger joins as you feel two fingers sliding up and down your pussy. “Yes!” You exclaimed at the relief of the soft stretch. Whining when he slid them back out.

Andy’s explored every inch of your soaked core. One of his fingers teased your entrance, making your body writhe under his touch desperately. Feeling two of his fingers slide inside felt like a gift. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he scissors them inside. Pulling them in and out to draw more of your juice out.

No man had ever given your cunt this type of attention. Not with this much precision. He hummed at the taste of everything you were giving him. Your moans increased as he made you feel so good.

“Oh fuck.” Your head craned backwards as you pulled his face closer to your cunt. Not wanting him to leave.

With a twist of his wrist, he curled his fingers against your sweet spot. Everything was happening so fast, you couldn’y even think about wrong or right anymore. His hand was covered in your sweet nectar, lapping it up with his hungered mouth. Drawing everything out that you’re giving him.

Your orgasm builded quickly, nothing but gasps, moans and whimpers leaving your body. Bucking your hips against his face was punished with his strong arm holding you down. Clearly sending you a sign that he would do all the work.

The burn of his beard had subdued due to the ecstatic feeling that rose. The squelched noises filled the air as your cunt drenched his fingers.

“Andy, please.” You screamed at the erratic pumps. Your legs clamped around his head. The spasms of your body erupted from his assault. “Please, stop, Andy.”

Shuddering around his fingers made him still his fingers and pull back from your pussy. His bewildered gaze met yours. He was a man on a mission. The grip on the couch eased up, as he let you have a moment to catch your breath.

Drawing his fingers from your core, he plunged them back in. Clearly sending you a sign that he would be the one making all the decisions tonight. Your trembling body assaulted another time as his mouth worked your core. Soft kisses and strokes helped you through your high. Working with you to come back down from the heavenly state he had put you in.

Andy got up without a warning. Holding out his hand for you to grab. Your cunt still pulsating from the mindblowing orgasm, making it hard to stand up. Rolling your eyes at this uncharming moment as he guided you up the stairs.

As he opened the bedroom door he turned back at you. Suddenly everything was starting to become too real as you stood in front of him vulnerable and naked. Guilt clouding your mind once again. Andy grabbed your waist, pulling you closer and swiftly turning your bodies, making you walk backwards. His lips teasing yours with soft pecks.

“You’re overdressed, Barber.”

He threw his head back laughing at your words. Releasing you from his grasp, undressing quickly. You glanced down your body, noting you still were in your own lingerie. Unclipping your bra, letting it fall to the floor.

Your fingers hooked under the garter belt around your waist. Andy stopped your hands from acting any further as you tried to slide it off. He raised an eyebrow, giving you a warning, watching him slide down his boxers. Gulping when his cock springs free as he pulls his boxers down.

Andy was bigger than any other man you had in the past. One thing was clear, Andy Barber wanted you more than anything. He was going to be yours for a night. Fuck Laurie and her stupid comments that still had haunted you.

You would devour him one time and then cut all ties. A way of getting him out of your system. Your hands wandered over your ass up your hips and waist. Gliding over your breasts, tweaking the nipples between your fingers.

“You’re so gorgeous, sweetheart.” Andy praised, stepping towards you. His hand settled at the base of your neck while the other cupped your cheek. His lips were hungry, searching for an entry. A filthy swipe of his tongue against your lips. Caressing your palate and dancing with your tongue. He guided you back towards the bed until you could take no more steps.

His cock pushed against your stomach, making the excitement shoot through your veins. Andy ground into you, making you clench around nothing. Humming at the strokes of his tongue, yelping when he suddenly pushed you down on the bed.

Taking advantage of your surprise he flipped you over. Climbing behind you with his knees settling on either side of your body. His hands resting beside your head, pressing loving kisses on your cheek, down your shoulder while tracing wet and sloppy marks down your spine. With every move, he slowly sat back up.

His hands caressed your ass, admiring the view underneath him. Slightly tilting your hips so your ass would spread a little, granting him more access to your pussy.

Andy ran his cock through your soaked core. Coating himself while working your excitement up again. He tapped your pussy with his length before sinking in his tip in to tease you. You gripped the sheets letting out a muffled moan.

“Please, Andy, I need more.”

“So desperate for my cock.”

“Please, fuck me.” You begged, feeling him pull out of you.

Andy repositioned himself, spreading his knees wide, making sure he all leverage over your body. A darkened smile held his face. With a single deep thrust, he nearly splitted you in half. The allowance to get used to his size was short lived when he bottomed out.

“So tight for me, sweetheart.” Andy husked, taking in every expression you displayed as you tilted your head to look back at him. He was looking for discomfort, but all you returned was a smile when he pushed back inside your walls.

His hips rocked in and out, stretching your cunt and easing off the burn. He pulled out, slowly dipping in and out of your dripping cunt. Your hands reached back to spread your cheeks for him while he slowly kept sinking in further and further.

Your hips kept lifting as he kept plunging in and out of your hole. He grabbed your hands, stopping the spread of your ass, guiding them upward above your head. With a rough grasp on your hips he impaled you deeply. Driving his cock inside your wet walls eagerly.

Soft whines escaped when he pounded you from behind. Working up your orgasm as he slided into you over and over again. Clenching around him when he angled his cock just right against your sweet spot.

He drew your body close to his when he rolled you both sideways. The pumps of his cock added more and more pleasure in this newfound position. Your foot rested on his thigh. Feeling his lips marking your neck. His large hand kneading your breasts, pinching your nipples and making you sob at the pleasure swirling in your veins.

You squeezed around him, suddenly releasing more frantic ruts from him. The muscles of your body tensed at the spearing motion. Andy’s hand circled your waistline finding your swollen clit. His flat fingers rotated your overworked cunt. Making you squeeze him even harder as you couldn’t withhold from cumming. You trembled in his hold as he kept you close.

He slid out and laid back, his cock still throbbing as you turn your body towards him. You licked your lips at the glistened length.

“I want to admire your view. Ride me, sweetheart.” Andy ordered

It was a different request than what you initially had in mind, but it wasn’t one you were going to deny him if it meant more pleasure for you both. Soaking up every inch of love Andy was willing to give you before you had to part ways.

Throwing your leg over, he holds his cock for you to sink down on. Your mouth fell open at the renewed positioned feel of his width. Halfway there he let you take control. Sliding his own hands up your body playing with your nipples and kneading the squishy flesh of your breasts.

“So good.” You gasped, bouncing gently up and down his cock. Watching Andy’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. Upon impulse you respond by leaning forward as you keep riding him. Your lips meeting, kissing him fiercely.

With your hips circling his cock his hands were free to roam and caress your body. His hands stroked the small of your back down to your ass, helping you push down further on his cock. Pulling you back into him when you lift a little too high. Meeting the slow rocks of your hips while your mouths desperately fuck one another on their own rhythm.

His arms circled your waist, holding you down, fucking up into your drenched cunt. Breathlessly you break off the searing kiss as he fucks you deeply. His eyes watch you closely, admiring your beauty as you work up to another orgasm.

Andy flipped your bodies, making your legs fell open. He sank back in deeply, resting his arms beside you. Your needy body right where he wanted it. You’re vulnerable while he was in total control. He slowly rolled his hips into you. The friction was deep and loving. Your legs circled his waist, holding him within close proximity.

His ruts deepen with every pound, making it harder for you to breathe. Every inhale was met with a cry of pleasure. Your sobs only made him pump you harder. Fucking you harder into the mattress. You were about to reach another high when he swiftly pulls out and pumps himself on your stomach. His white ropes painted your flesh.

“I want to pump you full of me.”

“Then fuck me, Andy.”

A consensual agreement, not one of you had thought of a condom. Too busy drinking up one another. Without another word, he slid back inside your walls. Opening one leg while resting the sole of your foot against his shoulder. Slowly you fell apart as your muscles tensed up again.

A rough pounding as he fucks you deeply. Taking him to the hilt, creaming his cock with your arousal. His hand took a hold of your ankle and he pressed his lips against the inside. You watch him lean his head back, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

Andy chased his own high with a guttural growl. The orgasm rippled through you, trembling underneath him. Your body screamed for him, feeling his hot cum filling you, squeezing him dry, needing every last drop as if he was your antidote to the venemous bite.

Freshly fucked dumb and pleasured. You were taken by surprise when Andy dove back down between your legs.

“You’re going to give me one more, sweetheart,” Andy stated, clearly not having gotten enough of your sweet taste.

The swipe of his tongue feels glorious, making you sob at the feeling. He hovered back over your body, kissing your lips and letting your taste your mixed pleasure.

His beard scraped your folds, while his greedy fingers pump your filled cunt. Andy drank from your pussy like it was his last drink. The swirl of his tongue circled your clit. The perfect suction on the pulsating nub. Dragging his flat tongue over your soaked hole. The sweet nectar with his cum dripping generously.

Your hands entwine themselves in his crazed hair as he vigorously pumps you with his digits. The sweet moans filled the room, as you felt the perspiration covering your body from being overstimulated.

Andy worked your pussy like a professional. His mouth not leaving your clit while his fingers did all the pounding. Curling and twisting them inside you. Your body started to spasm against his tongue when he penetrated your hole.

Drenched for just Andy as he licked you clean. Exhausting your body to the limit. Squeezing every ounce of liquid from it, like it was his mission.

Your throbbing core had pushed out all of his cum by now. The thought of him cleaning you out from his own cum made you even more aroused. Your muscles tensed up, making the ache of another orgasm even more pleasurable.

“Please andy, don’t stop.” You whined, feeling his thick tongue licking your clit.

Andy continued until your body stopped writhing. Fully saturated when your final orgasm had taken over. He pecked your cunt with his lips. Admiring it in its whole, while watching it pulsate around nothing. The ache was still there, but it was worth it.

“You did so well for me, sweetheart.” Andy smiled, leaning upwards. His body was on top of yours, pressing his lips against yours, stroking your hair as you willingly circled your legs around his waist. Locking him into your grasp with your ankles linked.

An intimate and vulnerable moment of just you and Andy. A moment that should’ve happened years ago. But now, it was too late. The damage was already done. Guilt overtaking your body.

“She’s seeing someone else.” Andy whispered softly as if he could sense your thoughts. Your eyes grew at the spoken words. How did he know that? “I’ve known for a while. She wasn’t ready to tell the family yet.”

The heavy weight on your shoulders immediately lifted your mood. His arms circling around your waist, holding your body tightly against his.

“Why didn’t you start with that news earlier?” With a balled fist you hit his arm.

He laughed and without answering he kissed you passionately like he had waited his entire life to do so.

[lovesickonmybed]

bully ellie is really really mean and i really really want her, so I want to ask what would be her reaction to reader in a date with someone like her (a loser)

bully!ellie my beloved. she's soooooooo mean and so jealous that anyone is hanging around her nerd but her. in my mind she's pretty possessive over reader even though they aren't together and she bullies her. i think ellie finding reader on a date in general would make her lose it, but finding you with another loser would make her 10x worse. this was gonna be short but it turned into a mini fic. pls feel free to send more bully!ellie stuff bc i love her.

i urge you to not buy any of the last of us games, including the remaster as the creator, neil druckmann is a zionist. the second game is based off of the israeli occupation in palestine and you can learn more about that here.

masterlist | info abt palestine | donate to gaza

Maybe y'all are out at a coffee shop or something, sitting in a booth near the back talking about your favorite movies when Ellie walks in. You're sitting facing the door and she spots you immediately. She looks pissed when she sees you and walks over without a plan for what she'll say or do. You sigh and look away from her, dreading what's about to happen, your date looks around confused until her eyes land on Ellie. 

Ellie sits down at your booth, shoving your date to scoot over, shooting her a mean glare, "When did you two losers get together?" she snarks, raising an eyebrow and looking between you two. Your date scoots closer towards the window and looks Ellie up and down fearfully. 

“Ellie we’re just trying t-” you try to speak but she’s quick to cut you off.

“Trying to make small talk before you lose your virginities to each other because no one else wants to fuck either of you?”

Ellie’s response shocks both you and your date, your eyes go wide and your jaw drops. Your date quickly scrambles to try speak up but Ellie narrows her eyes at her threateningly to shut her up. “Don’t try to deny it, I could smell you desperate losers from a mile away. You,” she points to you and smirks, “You’re probably wet at just the idea of having her lazily attempt to fingerbang you in the back of her moms Honda. She won’t get you to cum you know.” 

Your face heats up with embarrassment and you look down and take a sip of your water as Ellie continues to humiliate you and your date. Ellie turns to your date to address her, “You were gonna give her an awful fuck weren’t you? Y’know Dina told me that she heard you talking to your little friends in the locker room about how you finally came for the first time just last week. One sad little orgasm doesn’t mean you should promise little losers like them,” she motions over to you and chuckles, “a great night. It’s not fair to get her hopes up like that.” 

Your date looks down, very clearly feeling humiliated by Ellie and her words. “P-Please move,” she mutters to Ellie. Normally Ellie would tell her to speak up and humiliate her further but she’s already quite satisfied with the girls humiliated state and gets up for her to exit the booth. As the girl pushes past her Ellie is quick to grab her waistband that’s showing over the top of her skirt and pull hard enough to get her to yelp. Your date rushes off out of the coffee shop, stuffing her pulled panties back into her skirt as she rushes out to her car.

“Seriously, Ellie? You had to ruin a date for me too?” You groan, your head falling into your hands in frustration. 

Ellie rolls her eyes and takes a sip of your date's discarded drink, “I saved you from having to fake an orgasm for a girl who can’t even get herself off. You should be thanking me, loser.”

“In your dreams. You just ruined my chance with her and she left without paying!” 

Ellie rolls her eyes and throws a $10 down onto the table, “There, I even paid. Happy now, loser?” Ellie walks closer to you and grabs your hand, pulling you to the edge of your seat. She closely examines your makeup and outfit, smirking to herself while she does, she extends her hand to you, “Get up, you’re coming with me.”

“No I’m not,” you cross your arms over your chest in defiance, looking up at her with a glare.

“You are, you don’t have any other way home now that your little date is gone. Lets. Go.”

You think it over for a second before sighing and taking her hand, letting her help you up from the booth. You follow her out to her car and get in the passenger seat begrudgingly. As you buckle up she reaches over and lifts your skirt and looks down, “You wore some pretty panties for her loser, shame she didn’t get to see them hmm.” 

You groan and pull your skirt back down, crossing your legs. “You’re the fucking worst.”

“And you eat it up, nerd.”

[weird-an]

Billy knows his dad doesn't act like a dad.

Has known from the first moment when Neil's hand slipped for the first time. Gets reminded everyday, when he's a girl, a loser, a faggot and never a son.

He thought it was just words and bruises that made it bad. He should actually be lucky to even have a dad at all. Where would he be without Neil?

Steve's eyes, wide and horrified, tell him something else. It makes Billy uncomfortable, in a way the school nurse back in California did, when she asked him if he's got a safe place to go to and he didn't have an answer, because he was nine and scared.

"What?" Steve says. His voice got an edge like he's choking up and tries not to.

"It's no biggie." Billy's got the sinking feeling he has screwed everything up, like when he told the nurse that he sometimes hides in his closet or under the kitchen sink until Neil falls asleep.

"You just told me you didn't get dinner for two nights in a row." Steve rubs his nose and Billy sees tears in his eyes. That can't be worth anybody's tears, can it? "And that you slept in your car."

"I just wanted to get out of his hair." Billy rolls his eyes. It's better to avoid Neil's moods. He's glad he's got the Camaro. It's a fucking privilege. Maybe rich guys like Steve don't get that.

"Yeah?" Steve squints his eyes. "What did he say?"

"Get out," Billy repeats. Cuts himself off before he can add the "fucking pussy" Neil screamed. Maybe it wasn't even that. Neil screams a lot, way too much that Billy can remember it all - and Steve's upset enough.

Somehow it feels like it's all Billy's fault. He shouldn't have mentioned that he's fucking hungry and relieved that he got his paycheck today.

Steve sucks in a deep breath. Leans forward and Billy digs his fingers in his palms, trying not to flinch. It's a reflex. Whenever someone is angry, he's all tense, like he's about to be stretched apart any second.

Steve presses a kiss on Billy's cheek.

"You can always come here," he says. "Always."

It's a lie, something inside Billy whispers. He'll get tired of you. Even your mother did leave you.

"I'll give you the spare key," Steve promises. "You don't have to sleep outside."

"Why would you do that?" Billy asks, brows furrowed. If Steve isn't home, they can't have sex and that's all Billy is probably good for.

"I want you safe, baby." Steve flushes. "Billy, I mean."

He rubs his neck. "I'll make us dinner, okay?"

Every word feels like hug. Billy's chest grows warm. "Okay."

Maybe he will have a place to go to after all.

[chrisbitchtree]

Dear Younger Me

My piece for the @harringrove-relay-race!!!

I'm now passing the baton on to @oopsiedaisiesbaby! I can’t wait to see what you’ve written!

4k - M

***

When Billy’s therapist had first assigned him the project, to write letters to his younger self detailing the twists and turns his life would take, and how he’d somehow managed to navigate them and get to a place where he could truly call himself happy, he’d laughed, because frankly, it sounded like a waste of time.

He knew he was happy and successful, so what good would it do to tell the long gone, scared, angry seventeen year old version of himself about it? But the more he wrote, filling page after page with his messy scrawl, the more he felt that he could let go of all the hurt and pain of his youth. It felt good. So good, in fact, that he’d allowed himself to be talked into giving Steve the letters to read.

Now though, as he stands on Steve’s front porch, he feels a really strong urge to run. It’s too late though, he’s already rung the doorbell, and he can hear Steve’s approaching footsteps. There’s no way he’d get back into his car and out of sight before Steve opens the door. He takes a deep breath, holding the stack of letters in front of himself.

“Hey Billy,” Steve greeted him, a grin spreading over his face, looking unfairly sexy, shirtless on this hot summer night. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from you at 10pm on a Tuesday?”

“Uhhhh,” Billy replies, almost chickening out and saying he was in the neighbourhood and in the mood for some company and a beer, knowing Steve won’t ask questions, good guy that he is, but he knows that its important for Steve to read the letters, for Billy to let him in, if he ever wants to be more than friends with the man. Steve’s made it clear that he wants Billy, so the ball is firmly in Billy’s court. So, he takes another deep breath and hands the envelopes to Steve. “I want you to read these. Or my therapist does. But I do too. Just read them, okay, pretty boy?” With that, he walks away before Steve can answer.

***

At first, Steve’s confused when his doorbell rings at 10pm, and then he’s excited when he finds Billy on his front porch. They usually hang out pretty steadily, grabbing beers after work, having BBQs with Max and Lucas, watching endless movies, and hiking in the woods on the edge of town, but lately, every time Steve asks Billy to do anything, he claims that he’s busy working on a project, but won’t tell Steve any details about it. He’s starting to worry that Billy’s trying to freeze him out.

His excitement turns back to confusion when Billy hands him a stack of envelopes, telling him to read what’s inside of them, but he does as he’s told, grabbing the beer that he’d cracked open just before the doorbell had rung and taking it out to the backyard, turning on the patio lights so he can read.

He pulls a small stack of papers from the first envelope, unfolding them to find a letter.

“Dear younger me,

I know you’re upset right now. It’s not easy leaving your friends, your school, the ocean, the only home you’ve ever known behind to move to the middle of butt fuck nowhere. I won’t lie, it’s going to suck at first. Neil’s been with Susan long enough that he isn’t putting a show on in front of her anymore. He’s going to yell and threaten you and get in your face.

Starting at a new school is going to be terrifying, and it’s good to put on a brave face, to not show fear, but try to remember that it’s ok to admit that everything isn’t ok sometimes. Even if it’s just to yourself, curled up in your bed late at night. Let the tears fall, I promise you’ll feel better afterwards.

It won’t be long until you meet Steve Harrington, the king of Hawkins High. You’re going to be such a dick to him, and he’s going to spend a long time hating you for it. You’re going to spend a long time hating yourself for it. You’ll eventually work your way to friendship, but you’ll save a lot of time if you don’t spend your entire senior year of high school treating him like he’s dirt on the bottom of your shoes.

Because you can’t manage to get your head out of your ass, Steve’s going to push, rightfully so, and you’re going to pull, until the tension’s going to come to a head at Harrington’s graduation party. The night’s going to start with the two of you throwing barbs back and forth and end with you on your knees in the Harrington’s pool house, Steve’s cock between your lips. You’re barely even going to stay long enough for him to finish cumming, to scared to see what’ll happen in the aftermath, but you really should. Tell him how you feel about him, tell him that the way you treated him all year was an act, a way to protect your heart, and his response just might surprise you. You never know.”

Steve has to stop reading for a minute, his face flushing as he thinks back to his graduation night, how good Billy had looked on his knees, looking up at Steve as his tongue swirled around the head of his cock. He remembers how strong the urge to run his hands through Billy’s hair had been, but it had seemed too intimate an action, so he’d resisted, as hard as it had been. He’d wanted to reciprocate, but Billy had fled the scene before Steve could even catch his breath, not to be seen again for three years, until Neil and Susan Hargrove had died. He picks the letter back up, curious to see how it will end, and what will be in the next one.

“You’re going to blame yourself for a lot of what comes after. You’re going to tell yourself that if you’d stayed, if you hadn’t hightailed it back to California while the ink on your diploma was still drying, if you’d stayed, even just for Max, and nothing else, or if you’d finally stood up to Neil for once, things would have turned out differently. Please try as hard as you can to be kind to yourself. I promise you didn’t cause this, that nothing you could have done would have stopped Neil from being an asshole.

Love,

Billy”

“Dear younger me,

You just found out that Dad and Susan died, and you’re going to have a lot of mixed emotions about that. Relief that Neil can’t hurt you, can’t hurt anyone anymore, grief, as you mourn the dad you never got to have, regret, that you weren’t there to take the keys out of Neil’s hands that night when he drank too much and decided that Susan was cheating on him instead of going out to a girl’s night at the bar, sadness, for Max, who, at only seventeen, has no parents left, only has you to take care of her, when you can barely take care of yourself on the best of days.

It's going to be tough, I’m not going to lie. You and Max are going to fight about anything and everything. She’s going to blame you for this, and it’s going to take a long time for her to apologize, and it’s going to hurt, even though you blame yourself too.

You have to stay strong, though. Strong for yourself, and for Max. You need to put down the bottle and find a good job so you can take care of Max and yourself. It’ll be hard to even make yourself get out of bed most days, but you have to grin and bear it. I promise it’ll eventually get easier, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now. It’ll all be worth it when you see her walk across the stage with her diploma.

Love,

Billy”

As soon as he’s one reading the second letter, Steve folds it up and slips it back into its envelope and takes out the third letter, eager to see where this is going, to find out why he’s being asked to read them. He takes a sip of his beer and settles in for the long haul.

“When Max is twenty one, she’s going to call you and tell you that she’s dropping out of college to work at the garage with you and help you work towards your goal of buying it from Mr. Dennis when he retires, and you’re going to feel like a failure, like all your hard work, all the hours you put in at the shop to help pay for her education are going to waste. You’re going to fight long and hard about whether she’s fucking up her life, and you’re going to say a lot of things that you regret, but you need to remember that she’s an adult now, and she’s smart, and she knows what’s right for herself.

You won’t want to admit it, even to yourself, but you know you’re going to be happy to have her back where you can keep an eye on her, instead of way out in Boston. There’ll be growing pains at first, as you both get used to living together again, but it’ll be nice to have someone else around the house again.

And be nice to Lucas when Max has him over. He’s a good guy when he’s not being a smartass, and trust me, you’re going to need him later. Show him a little respect, and you’ll save yourself a lot of embarrassment later.

Love,

Billy”

“Dear younger me,

Two years after you finally take over ownership of the shop, just as you’re really starting to feel like the place is yours, Max is going to beg you to let her renovate the attached luncheonette and run a small diner and bakeshop out of it.

You’re going to resist for so long, finding a million reasons why she shouldn’t do it. The kitchen requires too much work, there won’t be enough customers for it to be profitable, she should be doing something better with her life than planting her roots so firmly in Hawkins. You worked hard so she can get out, and you don’t want to enable her sticking around.

Trust me, it’s going to be easier if you just give in. She may be stubborn, but she’s right, the place is going to be a huge success, and you’re going to wonder why you didn’t let her have at it sooner. That is, until two weeks after the diner opens, on the night of the launch party, Max is going to get drunk and take your motorcycle out and crash it.

She’s going to survive, but just barely. It’s going to be a very long road to recovery, and that’s where the thing I mentioned earlier about being nice to Lucas will come in. He’s the only one that’s going to be there for you in the early days, when you’re trying to keep two business afloat and be at the hospital with Max. He’s going to take a year off from school to work in the diner and the garage when you need to be with Max and be with Max when you need to be at the diner and garage. You’re going to be each other’s rocks when it gets to be too much, and you’re going to be embarrassed about how you treated him before if you don’t stop treating him like shit right now. I know I’ve already said this a lot, but trust me.

Love,

Billy”

“Dear younger me,

I know that more than anything, you’ll want to make sure that Max’s diner stays open, that it’s there for her when she gets better, but you’re too stubborn to ask for help, and too busy to have it open enough hours in a day to turn a profit, so you’ll think about throwing in the towel and just focusing on the garage.

Tired and frustrated, you’ll head to Chicago one evening to blow off some steam at a bar. You’ll think to yourself that you’ll just go for a few drinks, and maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll find someone to take to whatever shitty hotel you can find a room in for the night, but instead, what you find in there, or rather who you find in there, is going to change everything for you.

Standing near the bar nursing a bottle of beer is Steve Harrington, looking every bit as pretty as he did back in high school. You’re going to try to turn around and run like the coward that you are, but Steve’s going to spot you before you can head out. Caught, you’re going to let him buy you a beer and sit and catch up.

He’s going to tell you how he feels lost after dropping out of law school, a failure in his father’s eyes, how scary it is to not feel that much more mature at twenty five than he did at eighteen. You’re going to tell him about your dad and Susan, and Max’s accident, how it feels like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, with no one there except Lucas to occasionally lighten the load.

He tells you that drinks are on him for the night, and he orders another round, and another and another, until you’re both shitfaced and stumbling towards his nearby apartment. On the way, you tell him that unless you get some money fast, you’re going to have to sell the diner, and then you forget you said anything as he asks if he can kiss you in the elevator.

You’re going to have a moment of panic, as Steve presses you up against the door of his apartment and runs his lips all over your throat, about whether this is the right thing to do or not. You think that it might be best to turn around and forget this ever happened.

Don’t. Stay, have fun with the hottest guy you could ever hope to be with, and create enough jerk off material to last you the rest of your life. Ever the gentleman, he’ll ask if he can take you to bed. You’ll both lose your breath laughing as he tries to carry you there and fails miserably, and you’ll smile to yourself every time you think about that moment.

Once you get to his room, you’re going to have to fight the urge to do all the work. You keep telling yourself that Steve deserves to be worshiped, but he’s going to insist that you sit back and enjoy it, and you should listen to someone else for once.

He’s going to do things you didn’t even know someone could do with their mouth, leaving your moaning, hands twisting in the bedsheets, and your eyes will roll back in your head as he fucks you six ways to Sunday. Afterwards, he’ll clean you both up and hold you in his arms while he snores softly in your ear, and you’ll think about how nice it is to be taken care of, that you could get used to it.

By morning, you’ll have talked yourself out of it. You don’t deserve this, you don’t have time for this, it’s too much, you’re not enough, and you’ll sneak out before Steve wakes, feeling like an idiot as you walk back to your car with your hair all stuck up in the back, knowing that everyone giving you side eye as they walk down the sidewalk with a coffee and a briefcase knows what you were up to last night.

You’ll be embarrassed, but relieved that you got out of Steve’s place without having to have an awkward morning after conversation. You’ll open up the shop for the day and put all your energy into working on the cars and running into the diner to check on Lucas and the lone waitress in between appointments, but no matter how hard you try, you’re not going to be able to take your mind off Steve, how he looked the night before, looking down at you with his big brown doe eyes as he asked you if it felt good. Part of you is going to wish you hadn’t left his place, but you know it’s for the best.

The days will keep marching on, until a couple weeks after you have your run-in with Steve, when you’ll get a call from the bank. You prepare yourself for the worst, sure that they’re calling you to tell you that it’s time to give up the diner, but no, they have a potential investor, and they want to meet with the two of you.

You show up at the bank feeling ridiculous in your one pair of khakis and your best button up, and of course, the first person you see when you enter the bank is Steve Fucking Harrington, grinning wide at you as he chats up a teller. You want to turn around, but you can’t, because this idiot is your only way to keep the diner alive.

When you ask him why, why he would do this for you, when you’ve just been an asshole to him. He says it’s not for you, it’s for Max, and for Steve himself, because his dad apparently has no problem writing a huge cheque to invest in the diner if it means that Steve won’t be sitting idle any longer.

You’re not going to be sure how involved Steve plans on actually being involved in the day to day running of the diner, but you definitely don’t expect him to show up two days later, apron and baseball cap on, ready to work his first shift. He’s going to suck, dropping plates, burning food, forgetting to dress burgers before they go out to hungry customers.”

Steve has to laugh at how right Billy is. He was just about the worst waiter and cook to have ever worked in a restaurant. He had no clue what he was doing, and there were many days where he was surprised that Billy didn’t kick him out, no matter how badly he needed the help, and there were a lot of other days where Steve was ready to throw in the towel, but he’d kept with it, determined not to give up on this like he had on law school, and he liked knowing he was lightening Billy’s load, even if it only got him groans of frustration and sighs of despair in return. Over time, he thankfully got better at both tasks, finding that he was actually a pretty good cook. He picks the letter back up, eager to get through the rest of the shortening stack.

“I promise the shitty times will end though. Soon, you won’t be able to imagine the place without Harrington there, telling bad jokes and bringing you coffee when your eyes start to droop in the evening, after you’ve had a long day at the shop and the diner, and then still need to go check in on Max.

Eventually, Max will be released from the hospital, and you’ll be happier than ever to have Steve around, to help Lucas moderate arguments between you and Max, while you get comfortable giving Max small freedoms, and she comes to understand why you’re so scared to let her out of your sight.

When Lucas finally has to go back to school, Mrs. Sinclair will try to step in and pick up shifts at the diner, and at first, you’re going to push back. You don’t want to take any more time and energy from that poor family, and you’re sure she has better things to do than do Max’s bidding as Max sits on a chair behind the counter telling her what to do.

Steve talks you into letting her stay, though. You need the help, and she’s willing to give it, and it’s another lesson in accepting that people care about you and Max and letting them help you. Between Mrs. Sinclair, Steve, you, and Max, as she starts to get stronger, along with Erica Sinclair waiting tables after school and on weekends, replacing your waitress who decided to go back to school, the diner actually starts to turn a profit, based on great food and fast, friendly service. When Lucas comes home for Christmas, he jokes that he can’t recognize the diner with more than a couple customers in it. For the first time, you’re going to feel like everything will be ok.

I promise you, things only keep getting better from here.

Love,

Billy”

“Dear younger me,

Now that you have your professional life somewhat under control, of course, you’re going to turn your attention to your personal life for the first time in a long time. I can tell you it won’t be easy to take that first step and finally accept that you need therapy. Nobody wants to admit that they need help, so it’s going to be a long battle of talking yourself in and out of it, but I can also tell you that once you commit to going regularly, and putting in the work to help yourself, things are going to be so much better.

You’re going to rush into things with Steve, but it’s important that you take time for yourself, to figure your shit out first. If Steve want this as bad as he’s been saying he does, then he’ll respect that you’re not ready yet, and wait until you are.”

Steve takes another sip of his drink, shaking his head at his own behaviour. To say he badly wants a relationship with Billy is the understatement of the century, and he’s far from quiet about it, confessing almost daily to Billy that he’s crazy about him, wants to date the heck out of him, hold his hand when they watch movies, make him dinner, tell anyone that’ll listen that Billy is his.

But for all of his enthusiastic rambling, he’s more than willing to wait until Billy’s ready. He doesn’t want to rush things, because he wants Billy to want it as much as he does, wants his heart to truly be in it. He doesn’t want Billy to date him just because it’s what Steve wants.

Over the past year, Steve’s come to learn that Billy’s not only literally the hottest guy Steve’s ever seen, he’s also selfless, caring, hilarious, hardworking, and secretly sweet, and Steve needs him like he needs air, so yeah, he’ll wait. He continues to read.

“My best advice for when thinking about Steve gets to be too much. Take a deep calming breath, a cold shower, or if that doesn’t work, think about seeing the ancient librarian at the public library naked. That should be more than enough to cool you down.

Love,

Billy”

Steve picks up the last letter, and slipping it out of its envelope, he unfolds it, noticing that it’s a lot shorter than the rest.

“Dear future me,

I know you’re panicking right now, sitting on your couch, biting your nails and nursing a beer, while you wait for Steve to read through the letters that you handed him tonight. You want him to know that you’re ready now, as ready as you’ll ever be to let him in, let yourself be loved and love him in return, and you can only hope that he feels the same way as he did this afternoon when he told you that he can’t wait to wife you up, whatever that means. Try to calm down. It’ll be ok.

So, hey Steve, if you’ve gotten this far, I’m ready. Bring your jammies, and we can have a sleepover. I promise not to run in the morning, and if you wake up early enough to make me cum a second time before breakfast, I’ll make you pancakes before we head into work.

Love,

Billy”

Steve slips on a pair of sandals and grabs his keys, running so fast for his car that he doesn’t realize until he’s halfway down the driveway that he’s not wearing a shirt. It doesn’t matter though. He’s gotta see about a boy.

[palmettoshenanigans]

As someone who is also touch averse a lot I just can’t stop thinking about Andrew. Like a popular head cannon is that he reads a lot.. and like couples are always cuddling or casually touching in books and shows, and I’m just thinking about him seeing that and seeing Neil and just, having such intense bursts of wanting to do that. But then when thinking about actually doing it it’s immediate revulsion… anyways just projecting once again onto my favs… but I think of Andrew a lot

Hello Friend I have so many thoughts and I'm actively vibrating with the opportunity to talk about this hold on

I'm like,,, both. I am touch averse AND touch starved for a Encyclopedia of reasons. Details aren't important but the result is “I wanna be held but I'm doubly scared of being hurt and also of being rejected therefore I shall stand here and stare at you really really hard and hope somewhere within you is a desire to hold me and no desire to harm or leave and maybe this time my body won't revolt maybe this time or this time or this time or”

And look, despite my crippling desire to be Objective in my literary analysis of Andrew and Neil and Jean and all my other beloved Foxes and Floozies I KNOW good and well that I project on them anyway so like,,,

I imagine Andrew as having those Bursts of Wanting just like you described, but he's often able to dismiss them.

With Nicky he doesn't concern himself with boundaries enough to be safe that way. Nicky has to be reminded of boundaries at knife point sometimes while Neil has to be told only once (and that's if he didn't already infer them himself).

With Aaron there's too much barbed wire between them to be safe that way. Aaron has been so hurt by Andrew that some resentment might poke out even when he does try to reach out, while Neil holds zero resentment towards Andrew even for things Andrew actually did to him! Neil mastered the art of Letting That Shit Go For The Sake Of Moving Forward while on the run with Mary - doing it with Andrew is a cake walk.

Kevin is so self absorbed and Exy centric that even the ways he wishes to express his love and care for others is filtered through the lens of what HE thinks is Right and Good and Safe and that's not safe enough for someone who wants to be considered in their own right without any qualifiers, while Neil will look at Andrew and even his own opinions on the matter get reduced to secondary considerations in the face of What Andrew Said. He might still express his opinion but he values Andrew's comfort and safety often more than his own opinions.

It's easy to shut down the Wanting when it arises because of others since the Cons are obvious and plentiful.

I'm betting that's part of the reason the Burst Of Wanting is so much MORE when directed at Neil because,,, the cons are, what? That Neil might die? That's everyone sweetheart, the fragility of humanity is the ever present Sword of Damocles hanging over everyone's endeavor for intimacy and connection, join the club in our inexorable march onwards ever onwards.

But the other shit, those other cons… Neil took care of those already. Neil honors Andrew's boundaries. Neil would hurt himself to keep from hurting Andrew. Neil actively tries to see things from Andrew's perspective instead of coloring everything with his own Bias Crayons. I'm not saying Neil is Perfect In Every Way, but on all perceivable accounts, Neil is safe. Safe to Want. Safe to Reach For. Safe to Touch.

Safe to Be Touched By.

How fucking scary is that?

Andrew looks at Neil, feels that Burst of Want followed by that stomach pitted drop of Fear like standing on a rooftop edge and fucking,,, what is he meant to do with that??? What is he supposed to do about Neil’s siren song of Safety??? Give in to it??? Body says No. Brain says No. Heart says Yes but we don't listen to that bitch, they don't get a vote.

But then the Brain starts getting convinced. And then the Body starts getting convinced. And then the Heart started revolting against their cage. And Andrew is sitting there like… are you so fucking for real right now?

And then Neil asks “Yes or no?” And then Neil accepts “Nothing” at face value. And then Neil accepts “I hate you” like it was a gift. Like Andrew is a gift.

What is a man to do then?

Of course we can't stop thinking about Andrew.

Projecting onto your favs again? Me too Bestie. Me too.

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Hide-n-Seek [23]

dacnorthxx: pretty girl <3 sfcommm: OMG?? ok they're def dating wtfsally: I thought Vi and Sal were gunna end up together butttt honestly this is a vibe. I like it belongingtoash: VIOLETHHHHH LETS GOOOOOOO toodswithouthed: @dacnorthxx BROTHER THE RIZZ??????????             dacnorthxx: @toodswithouthed they don't call me the rizzler for nothing            belongingtoash: oh he definitely pulled her. but does he pull out?            dacnorthxx: @belongingtoash what's the name of that lil debbie pie?            larrysbitch: @dacnorthxx LMFAAOOOOO I KNOW YOU DIDN'T             dacnorthxx: @larrysbitch how do u know i didn't if i literally did violethshipper: ^^^omfg someone give this man a medal.

----------

I want to go back to Sal's house.

If anyone asks, I never said that. Never admitted it. I will take those eight words to my grave and into the afterlife. But standing in the middle of a pot-hole infested road in the middle of Nockfell's forest with no prior reasoning to be here has me on edge.

Todd and Neil ditched us for another date night, which is starting to sound like an excuse to get way from us. So Ash gathered me, Sal, and Larry out here (apparently Larry is in on the plan) and told me the weather would be chilly, so I should 'dress appropriately.'

It's fucking colder than a witch's tit out here. Chilly to me translates to long sleeves, not coat weather.

But we're here, the sun drifting toward the horizon behind my best friend's sunset-encrusted silhouette and an evil grin dominating her partner-in-crime's handsome face.

"I've gathered you here today to participate in a life or death simulation," Ash chirps, like that statement isn't going to strike fear in the hearts of all-- well, me.

I purse my lips, turning from Ash and Larry to glance at Sal. He's dressed comfy; in the same Breaking Benjamin hoodie I accidentally wore in Vegas-- I'm shocked he didn't burn the thing-- to go with black sweats and dirty shoes. And he did something different with his hair. Something that I hate him for.

Ash said 'the woods' and he proceeded to sigh, then put half his hair up into a little bun all while grabbing another string cheese. Then he walked out the house.

I really, really hate him for it. 

"Are you going to ask or what?" Ash's clipped words snap at the open air like a whip.

I pinch my lips together and focus on my darling Ash. "Why am I out here?" 

A stunning smile builds on her glossy lips. "I'm so glad you asked, bellissima! We are going to play hide-n-seek. You and Sal are going to be finding a hiding spot-- no context as to why you're paired up included." She holds a hand out to exemplify her point, stopping the obvious question before it can even form on my lips. My stomach drops out of my ass regardless though.

"Larbear and I will not be seeking you, we'll be hunting you." Her eyebrows raise as that smile on her pretty face turns cunning. "You have five minutes. We'll hike to Sal's, then back here and that will end your time to hide. I suggest you make haste, my lovely little victims."

I gape at her, the plan sounding more and more evil as she keeps running her freaking mouth.

Larry lifts a hand, index finger pointed in the air. "And you two are not allowed to kill each other either." Ash nods her head vigorously in agreement.

"So yea!" She chirps, hands behind her back as she grins mischievously at me, a malicious glint in her forest eyes. "Larry and I will see you two losers when we find you. Good luck!"

"Hold on!" I stammer over my words, taking a big step toward Larry and Ash as they... run in the opposite direction. Gone in the blink of an eye. I pinch my lips together, heart sinking into the depths of my despair. "This is going to end in murder!" I bellow for good measure even though they can't hear me.

I swallow thickly, blinking at the now empty street. It's just us two.

"If it ends in murder, I'll haunt you," Sal's voice makes me sigh. It's monotonous, nonchalant. No emotion. 

I spin on my heels to look at him. He's standing in the middle of the road, hands in his hoodie pockets. 

Half his hair is up in that bun, the rest hanging over his shoulders as he watches me, completely emotionless. And as empty as he seems right now, the nature around him still makes him glow. The sun setting behind him, the canopy of Nockfell's forest framing his body. What a sight to behold-- it's just a damn shame that he's the person that mother nature is admiring so lovingly.

A shiver takes hold of my body when the slight breeze picks up for a moment, but I do my best to mask it as a grimace instead. I can't let this monster of a man see me weak. It'll only end badly for me. 

Can't hide shit from Sal Fisher, by the way.

His eyes light up, his stance straightening a bit. "Are you cold?" he asks, a bit of something in his tone even if it was just to make his question actually sound like a question.

I grumble to myself. "It's Ash's fault," I snap. "She told me it would be chilly. Chilly in eternally autumnal Nockfell and chilly in blazingly hot LA are two very different things." I clench my teeth, begging them not to chatter. "Two different things she did not take into account."

My gaze gravitates to my black jeans and the tight-fitted, long-sleeved violet shirt that I borrowed from Ash earlier. Things could be worse, but this shirt is still thin as hell. 

Being that The Faces are so accustomed to the constant chill here in Nockfell, fifty degrees isn't cold to them. But in Los Angeles, I'm lucky to see fifty degrees in the winter. This, to me, is cold. Especially with the sun beginning to go down. 

I focus in on Sal again. He's staring at me. It's awkward, neither of us know what to do. Ash and Larry have taken off back to Sal's to count. I don't know where on earth to go. Sal looks like he'd rather be anywhere else and be stuck with anyone else. But hey, that makes two of us.

With a breath, Sal tilts his head down. Then he starts easing his arms out of his hoodie. For a moment, I fear that he's going to give that damn hoodie to me. But then I remember that this is Sal, I mean, come on. He's probably just warm because he's used to the weather here.

Was the fear of him offering me his hoodie wishful thinking?

No. 'Course not.

I purse my lips at the thought, continuing to watch Sal as he carefully pulls the hoodie over his head, careful not to mess up his styled hair. 

Where could we hide? Should we hide at all or just bump into Ash and Larry with a half-assed 'haha, wow you found us?'

My brows furrow when Sal walks closer to me, holding... out... the hoodie...

I choke on my own saliva, taking a staggering step back as the retaliation of my own traitorous ideas comes rearing it's fugly head. Had the thought not crossed my mind, I wouldn't be in this predicament right now.

Sal turns his head slightly, eyes narrowed like I freaked him out or something. Like I'm weird. Like I'm some kind of fairy with wings that suddenly popped out of the forest.

"Hell no," I cackle, holding a hand out in front of me and shaking it, hoping that my hand's movement will wipe away that damn hoodie. "Cut that shit out. Put your hoodie back on." The words come out in a maniacal shrill, but I don't know how to control myself in this kind of scenario.

My anxious, terror-ridden reaction seems to spark some kind of emotion in Sal. As if taunting me, he takes a step closer and presses the hoodie into my hand. I back away quickly like he's burned me and he has the audacity to laugh.

I have every reason to believe that he'd chase me around with that hoodie if I showed too much fear.

"Seriously, Sal," I warn, narrowing my eyes at him to show him I'm serious. "Stop."

In turn, Sal sighs. "Just take it. It's not to be cute or anything. You should know as much." Amusement tinges his raspy voice. "But if you freeze out here, you won't be able to pack all my shit tomorrow."

"Why would I pack your shit?" I ask, immediately offended. What does he think I am? His servant?

"I'm the only one driving. Most of our boxes are coming with me. Do you not communicate with anyone? Or do you not listen?" He inquires with a smack of his lips. "That's a fatal character flaw, Vi."

I scrunch up my face in distaste, rage flaring through me. He definitely does this on purpose. "For your information, no one bothered to inform me. At least know the full story before you start assuming my character flaws." I point an accusatory finger at him, watching him silently before my eyes flit down to the hoodie that he's still holding out to me. 

He called me Vi, not by my name. 

With a disgruntled groan, I snatch the hoodie from his grasp and start fumbling to get it on. I'm thankful for my mask in the moment since it hides the light blush working onto my cheeks. 

The hoodie's still warm from his body, wrapping me up in a lush embrace. I sigh as comfort takes hold of me-- I can't believe I initially fought this off. What was the point? Now I'm warm and I won't freeze to death. Plus, the collar smells just like him. A little minty, a dash of cologne that's a mix of pine and rainwater, and then a sweet detergent.

"I didn't know you drove," I grumble, popping my head through the hoodie while keeping a hand placed over my mask so it doesn't fall off. Sal tilts his head at me, hair looking completely untouched whereas mine is now a frizzy mess.

"You must not observe your surroundings," he replies. This time there's a little, lighthearted bite to it. His eyes seem brighter than they did just minutes ago. Some of his personality is coming back to him. I wonder what ever took it away in the first place. "Car in the driveway's mine."

I blanch, eyes practically popping out of my head. "That Camaro is yours?" I practically spit the words out, patting down my hair. "How are you even able to-- to drive? With the prosthetic?"

"Great question, especially considering I only have one eye." Sal's gaze never leaves mine, like he's testing me with that information.

While I didn't know that for sure, I could have assumed he was at least blind in one eye due to the dilation of only one pupil instead of both. But it's nothing surprising. The scars on his face said as much about him.

So I narrow my eyes as if I'm studying every move he makes. "How'd you trick 'em into giving you a license then?" I ask, nothing but scrutiny lacing my tone. "Did you kill them?" I point a finger at my temple. "Mind control?"

My aim was to aggravate him, but to my surprise, he actually chokes on a laugh. And it's an adorable reaction-- so much so that in the moment, I feel like we're friends. I like him like this. I feel... this feels...

His eyes scrunch closed and he tilts his head down, hair flowing over his shoulders and chest bobbing with his laughter. He even puts a hand on his stomach as the lovely sound continues to pour out of him. I can't help but add in a little chuckle of my own.

Sal takes a deep breath before standing up again, ambling a bit closer to me as his hair blows in the wind, only bits of it contained in his little bun. "That's a first," he says breathlessly. "And the best reaction to someone finding out I'm disabled."

I can't wipe the wide grin off my face as I shrug. "Seriously though," I say, giggles attached to the words. "How are you able to drive? Isn't that-- not being able to see fully-- wouldn't that be a hazard?"

Sal nods his confirmation. "I shouldn't be driving, but I can. My promise was to never drive outside of Nockfell, so once we get to LA, things are unfortunately going to change." His decent mood seems to diminish a bit at the mention. "And as for the license I have now, don't worry about it. Just know it's very, very illegal."

I tilt my head dismissively. "Alright then," I mumble. "I won't ask about the extent of your illegal activities." Even though I am really curious about it. "But where are we hiding?"

Sal, in answer, begins walking past me. He doesn't gesture for me to follow, but I do it anyway. I catch up to him in a moments notice, walking beside him and waiting for a vocal answer rather than a physical one.

"We aren't hiding," he murmurs, nodding at the road ahead of us. "We're going camp out at the apartments."

"Oh," I whisper, watching the buildings in front of us grow taller the closer we get to them. "So, they won't find us at all, will they?"

Sal snorts. "No. They'll be out here for hours."

"Karma," I say nonchalantly, stuffing my hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

"Hm," Sal hums to himself. "Yea," he says louder, looking ahead as we walk. "Ever heard of Darwinism?" he asks randomly. But something about his voice puts me on edge.

"Uh," I say hesitantly, wary of his next words-- or worse, his next move. "Charles Darwin? Survival of the fittest?"

"Yup," he pops the 'p', body leaned toward me for a moment as he adds, with a smile in his voice, "You are not the fittest, by the way."

I gape at him. Shock ripples through me at the audacity. Now he's just reaching for anything to insult me with. Sure, maybe I'm not the fittest. I didn't bring a jacket into cool weather. But that didn't warrant a Darwinism jab. "Fuck you," I snap, taking a step away from him. I grumble unintelligible insults to myself for a second. I'll curse Ash and Larry 'til the day I die. "Why did they send us out together anyway? They should have known this would be a clusterfuck."

Sal doesn't even spare me a glance, just keeps walking, sticks and gravel crunching beneath the soles of his Converse. "I don't know. Something about forceful bonding. I didn't care to listen," he replies and I want to punch him for it. That question was for myself, not him. And of course he wouldn't listen. That's just so him.

I keep walking, gaze glued to the buildings and darkening sky. I don't have words for him, not when he's being difficult on purpose. I can go the rest of this stupid little trip without sharing another word with him. See if I care-- he'll be the one to suffer. I can hold out. I don't need to fuck him here. My pride is bigger than his and my need combined.

In the middle of my solitary girlbossing, my foot catches on a pothole that I didn't see because I didn't bother to look where I was walking. Too busy bitching to myself about Sal. Nockfell's old. The roads aren't well funded. It seems I've forgotten that in my time away.

I stumble forward, ready to scrape my knees on the pavement and suffer the embarrassment of Sal watching me take a tumble. But I hear a grunt beside me as a hand latches onto my elbow, another grabbing my waist and hoisting me into a standing position. I gulp so hard that it hurts, gaze on my foot caught in the pothole while the warmth from Sal's hands envelops my arm and side.

"Watch your step, dumbass," Sal mumbles, a clipped laugh following the statement.

I pinch my lips together and swing my head over my shoulder to glare at him. He watches me, humor dancing in his sapphire gaze. Seeing him so unserious will always be shocking. Especially since he saved me without complaining for once. I half expect him to shove me back into my fall, but he doesn't. Puts a bit more of his weight into his arms and pulls me toward him until I'm able to free my foot from the hole.

"Had you broken your ankle, I wouldn't have carried you back, idiot," he says, voice chipper despite the constant back and forth of his emotions. Finally and thankfully he moves his dangerous hands away from me.

"And yet you felt merciful enough to lend me your jacket?" I ask, a sneer on my face. I'm still holed up with my pride... but it's slipping with every word I say.

Sal shrugs. "How can I fuck you if you're sick?" is all he says. And it almost sounds like an excuse, but... he isn't wrong either.

I shake my head, lips pressed together. "Are you going to tell me the truth or are you going to keep up with the fluff bullshit?" I ask him, inclining my head upward. Like I said, I don't have to fuck him here-- why is he so insistent on it? Does he need to christen his house before he leaves for good or something?

Well, we have a head start. We already checked his desk off the list.

Sal rolls his eyes at my words, a glimmer of aggravation in his gaze. "Can't you just accept help?" He kicks a rock with the toe of his shoe, launching into a walk toward the apartments again. I begrudgingly follow him. "I know I'm not trustworthy or anything, but not everything is meant to spite you. Yea, maybe most of it is for my own gain..." he trails off, a smug glance toward me that makes me want to kick his shins in. "But it works out for you."

"The more you talk, the less I like you," I force out from behind clenched teeth. Any kind of warmth I felt from his gesture with the hoodie is left colder than a piece of frozen meat.

"You like me?" Sal drawls, his body tilting toward me just to piss me off some more. But that prideful tone of his makes me shake my head again-- this time to get the smooth timbre out of my head. Is he flirting or being antagonistic? I can never tell with him.

"Not anymore," I chirp. "And when I did like you," I turn to him and hold up my hand pressing my index and thumb together until there's only a sliver of space left between them. "It was so little that it didn't fucking matter either way."

I watch as the bottom of his left eyebrow disappears behind his prosthetic. I can imagine the inquisitive eyebrow raise-- I just wish I could see the whole thing. "Is that anything to say to the guy who's made you cum how many times on this trip?" He holds up a hand, lifting fingers to count.

A snarl leaves my lips as I look away from him. "Once. You've made me cum once, dick," I inform him. "The point you were trying to prove is stupid."

"Dick?" He asks. My eye twitches when his slightly excited, very complacent tone travels over to me. "No, my dick hasn't made you cum yet."

I don't know what's gotten into him. And I don't know what's gotten into me when a little smile quirks my lips at his joke. But I hide it the instant it appears, shoving it deep down. "Shut up," I bite out, trying to come off as aggressive, but even he seems to catch the light, humorous tremor in my voice. 

All that anger has dissipated by now. It's almost as if he knew he bothered me and went through all this to make me forget it.

I purposefully ignore the flutters in my chest and cartoonish crush-y feeling as Sal and I fall into silence, continuing our trek to Addison Apartments. 

I'm thankful for the comfortable quiet, the only sounds around us being our shuffling footsteps along the street, birds chirping and rustling in the treetops. Other than life noises, Nockfell is quiet. Aside from the annual Pumpkin Fest, it's so quiet here that it nearly seems desolate. 

Sal is a specimen and whatever it is that's changed between us-- because there is a very obvious change-- I'm going to ignore it. I have to ignore it and focus on my career, on myself. Why acknowledge this growth in the first place? We're still fucking around and that's all it'll be. To do that, we have to hate each other a little less, right?

Sal turns a corner, so I cut my own steps to turn with him, stopping short when Addison Apartments suddenly towers over me. 

When I lived here the first time, the apartments were about to fall apart. But now... everything is refurbished. It looks like there are lights on in bedrooms on the fifth floor, where renovations had gone on forever it seemed. The building is a new color, no paint chipping or walls broken. It's pretty nice. There are buildings on either side now too, showing that there have been additions. It's nothing like I remember it.

"I take it you've met Lisa by now."

I turn my gaze to Sal, watching as he pulls out a set of keys. Has he had those this entire time? 

His head is tilted down, sorting through the same set of keys while his cerulean hair billows in the gentle wind. Cornflower blue Converse dusty and caked with mud in various spots. I take it these are an old, occasionally worn pair.

His prosthetic enters my field of vision and I snap back into myself. "Yes," I simply reply. I reserved that answer, but forgot what question, exactly, I'm meant to be answering. Because I was too busy ogling him.

He looks at me a moment longer, eyes narrowing like he can smell the fact that I got distracted. With the way he is, I wouldn't be surprised if he could smell something like that.

Sal opens the door though, passing through it and into the lobby as a nonverbal way of telling me to follow. I do, walking through the threshold and into the building.

It's stunning, reminding me a lot of The Faces' suite in Vegas. All white, pristine. I wonder who's keeping it all up, but the answer rings through my head. Most likely Lisa.

I hear hinges squeaking to my right, so I rotate my head to face the sound-- only to find a pair of ebony eyes gazing out of a mail slot about as old as these apartments are.

"Oh, Sal!" Mr. Addison's short, polite voice fills me with nostalgia. I smile warmly at the man. "Welcome back. Coming to visit, I presume?"

Sal nods his head once. "Ash and Larry are up to no good, as usual."

"Ah," Mr. Addison responds, followed by an endearing chuckle. "Who's your friend?"

"Not my friend," Sal answers, never missing a beat.

I roll my eyes. 

"Hi, Mr. Addison," I say sweetly, waving at him. "I'm y/n. Do you remember me?"

I watch those dark eyes widen in recognition and a little grin works its way onto my face. 

"My word," he says breathlessly. "It's been years! I hardly recognize you!" That mail slot opens a bit more as if he's trying to get a better look at me.

I giggle, leaning down a bit to talk to him more properly. "Ten years'll do that, I guess."

"I guess so." He laughs heartily. "Tell your father I said hello. Oh, and I shouldn't have to say it, but you two behave yourselves!"

A breathy laugh comes from Sal and I nearly mimic it. "See you later, Mr. Addison," I bid the man goodbye.

"Farewell." Then squeaky hinges and the disappearance of those ominous eyes.

I turn my attention to Sal, a glare clearly reflected in my gaze. I know he can see it because neither of us has to say a word to communicate what's happening. All he needs to do to rile me up in response is smile-- which he does, if the squinting of his eyes says anything.

I follow him into the elevators regardless of how I feel. There's still a thin veil of humor hovering between us despite it all, so I ignore his bullshit even if I desperately want to smack him for giving Mr. Addison a hard time.

He presses his knuckle into the '4' button and we slowly travel upward. It's a miracle that the elevators have been fixed in the years since I've been here. In fact, there's music playing. It's shitty smooth jazz, but it's better than having to listen to the elevator threaten to fall apart like I did as a child. I can still hear the janky, rickety sound of the elevator struggling to move.

We emerge on the fourth floor, still not a word exchanged between us. But I change that, curiosity getting the best of me.

"This place is nothing like I remember it," I muse, eyes trained to the little chandelier on the ceiling. Who the hell paid Addison?

Sal hums, as if to say he knows. "Once our streaming career took off, Larry and I shoveled a chunk of money into finishing renovations here. We had way too many close calls with death as teens to let it rot."

I nod, taking in the rest of the hallway. It's not much different from what it used to be-- a new paint job and some accessories here and there. "It was a good investment," I murmur.

"Larry would disagree," Sal snorts, grabbing the handle of a door to apartment 402. He pauses when the knob doesn't turn and grabs the keys he had prepared. "We had a failed ghost hunting Youtube channel going before this. Larry really wanted that to work out even though he was a chickenshit."

I bark out a laugh despite myself. Larry and Sal into ghost hunting? Preposterous. But believable considering all the rumors surrounding this place.

It's kind of sweet to imagine them walking around with a camera, going places they shouldn't with quivering voices and high-pitched, voice-cracking screams.

"That channel still up?" I prod Sal. He pauses at my question, never getting his key into the doorknob as he turns to me.

"Don't even try," he warns, head tilting in a half-heartedly threatening way.

I grin. "Well, I know what I'm doing tonight."

His eyes roll, karma for the eye-rolling he made me do downstairs.

Before he can retort, the door swings open and Sal whips around, making eye contact with Henry who beams at both of us. "We weren't expecting any visitors-- what are you guys doing here!?"

"Avoiding Ash and Larry," Sal simply states, keys back in his pocket.

Henry's smile transforms into one of understanding. "They're giving you trouble again?"

Sal releases a breath, clearly fed up with having to give the same explanation for his appearance multiple times. "When are they not?"

Henry lets out a dad-chuckle, clapping his hand onto his son's shoulder and ushering him inside, motioning for me to follow.

I could cry when I walk inside. This apartment looks the same way mine did. Sal and Larry didn't renovate this one-- maybe they didn't renovate the inside of any. It's a nice blast from the past though. I can almost feel Ash dumping her paint water on me in the corner of the living room; a fond but chilly memory from our childhood.

My focus transfers to Lisa though, a smile on her face as she wipes her hands off on her apron. But as I smile at her, her eyes narrow and she purses her lips. "You look familiar," she says, the statement sounding more like a question.

I walk over to her, my heart pounding the entire way. She was more of a mom to me than my own mother was. I owe this woman so much and it's been way too long since I last saw her.

"It's y/n," I tell her a bit bashfully. "It's me."

I pray she remembers me for a moment, but there was no reason to worry considering she breaks into a blinding grin and wrestles me into a suffocating hug that I'm more than happy to drown in.

"Oh, my little girl!" She coos, hand rubbing my back affectionately. Her cheek presses into the top of my head as she gives me a big squish. "Best day ever."

Of everyone I've met again recently, Lisa is the first person who hasn't prodded me about life recently or made the comment about how it's been so long. She hasn't said a word about the mask. She's just happy to have me here.

She pulls away from our hug and wipes a tear from her eye before it can fall. My heart about damn near cracks in two. "You're so beautiful!" She gasps, holding me at arm's length and looking me over. Best day ever. "How have you been, honey?"

"I've been alright," I answer honestly, smiling fondly at the woman. "How have you been?"

"Well, I'm wonderful now that you're here." She playfully scrunches her nose then pats my shoulder. "Come here and sit so we can catch up. I have dinner cooking right now."

Lisa leads me over to the kitchen table, pulling out a chair for me. So I sit and cross my arms over the table mat, watching as she moves over to the oven. This is exactly what I'd do every Thursday evening after school-- make my way down to the basement and have dinner with the Johnson's. 

"So," Lisa says excitedly, pulling out her famous lasagna-- fuck yea. "Tell me about what you've been up to."

I open my mouth to respond but flinch upon feeling my phone suddenly vibrate in my pocket. Fumbling to pull it out, I send an apologetic glance toward Lisa who only shakes her head, a gentle smile on her lips.

I look down at my phone, brows scrunching together upon reading "Heather" across my screen. Dammit. Is it really that time of the year again?

It's my mother. We don't talk much. And when we do, it's because dad hasn't paid her yet. For what? Child support? I have no siblings. She's just some important, top notch executive on Wall Street that still milks her ex husband and daughter of any asset they have.

Sighing, I debate on what to do. I should just decline it. But if I decline, she'll bother dad. And when they talk, I don't see my dad for weeks at a time. Not because he's avoiding me or depressed... it's because she convinces him to send her more money and that ends in him having to work much more than he already does.

I begrudgingly answer the call, bringing the device to my ear with a pounding heart. I don't want this. I never do.

"Y/n," my mothers brusque voice filters through the call and I grimace, jaw clenched tight. "Bruce is late."

"Does it matter?" I bite out. I have every reason to treat her this way. She couldn't even tell her own daughter hello after going silent for months. Why should I offer her any kindness?

My mother scoffs, disbelief in the noise. "Of course, it matters," she snaps at me, devoid of any kind of motherly affection. Not like it's surprising. "When we split, the deal was that I get $1,500 monthly. And when he doesn't have it, I have to come get it from you."

"Don't you have anyone else you can bother?" I sigh, thinking of the money stacking up in my bank account. Half of it's going to have to fall to her now. "Or are your other children from the rest of your failed marriages not talking to you either?"

Heather goes silent. I immediately regret my words, especially upon noticing Lisa, Henry, and Sal go still. Their attention on me. I hide behind my hair, tipping my head down so it falls in my face.

"You ungrateful brat," Heather seethes into the phone. I grimace, but it's not enough to make me back down. This isn't the first time she's said those three words to me. If anything, I'm used to it. "Don't you know how much I sacrificed to raise you?"

I pinch my lips together, wondering why she bothered to try and raise me at all. Not like she stuck around long enough to do much raising in the first place.

As if Lisa could tell things were beginning to spiral, she lays a hand on my shoulder and whispers, "Is that your mama?"

I swallow thickly, nodding in confirmation. Lisa and my mom used to butt heads constantly. Lisa loathed my mom and the tight leash she held on me as a child. I'm lucky I got to meet Ash, Larry, and Todd at all.

"Put her on speaker for me," Lisa says in response to my nod, a maniachal little grin on her aged face. That must be where Larry got it from.

My mouth dry, I lay my phone down on the table, ignoring the curses and insults my mother spews until I click the button that puts her on speaker. And then her voice echoes through Lisa and Henry's living room, Heather's harsh and aggressive words splayed out for everyone to bear witness to.

"You and your little ploy of being something special. Pathetic," she spits, her voice cracking. "Did you think you could hide from me?" A humorless laugh. "That you could hide behind that stupid name? What was it— VioletViolence? Should I tell the world about what a disappointment you are? Or how about I show them your face?"

I suck in a shocked, shaky breath, my eyes going wide as panic rips my inside to ribbons. My heart threatens to burst from my chest as a tsunami of fear and and anxiety drowns me.

My own mother, selling me out for not getting her way.

With nothing else to do but pant down at the screen, ignorant of the other bodies in the room, I leap from my chair. My hands brace against the dinner table, my mouth gaping as I try to find words and rifle through my thoughts.

A hand snatches my phone in a split second. Lisa.

"You're on speaker, Heather dear." The words are laced with ice. With hateful promises of revenge so vicious, I couldn't even begin to dream of the possibilities. "I suggest you watch what you say."

My mother starts spitting out nonsense again, but Lisa takes her off of speaker and disappears into the next room, no doubt to give her a verbal beating.

Fuck. What do I do? I need to talk to Ash. I need to talk to dad. I need someone to ground me because I'm free floating through my own terror at this point. Shame and panic have gripped me whole, threatening to take everything that I am. Claim everything that I've built up for myself and tear it all down.

I don't know what to do. Heather is big enough in New York that she can slather my name across headlines and leak every personal aspect about me. For the entire world to see.

And how could I stop her? I'm nothing. I'm just a random streamer that maybe a few thousand people know about. I don't matter. I never mattered.

Hands cup my cheeks— warm, rough ones. They force my head to tilt upward until I'm gazing into pretty, azure eyes. And while I'm not surprised to see cerulean hair, I am taken aback upon finding that the hair is long, rather than short.

Of every possibility, I expected Henry over Sal. In every lifetime. So maybe Sal knows something that I don't about anxiety and averting attention because his hands on my face and his eyes gazing into mine shocks me into stillness. A pause. A moment where no thoughts enter or leave my brain. Everything just freezes.

But I watch his eyes. Eyebrows furrowed, determination and confidence reflected in his light irises. A little spear of panic stabs at me upon seeing one of his pupils dilated. It's not a bad panic, but it's panic in the sense that he's very obviously worried for me.

I don't want his pity. But right now, with him conveying the words 'Everything will be okay' through eye contact alone, I grasp onto his pity. I hold onto it for dear life.

Hold onto the way his fingertips press into my cheeks and jaw, their grasp so tender but assertive. The cool bite of his rings against my cheeks. Our physical contact telling me to focus on him rather than outside issues. The warmth of his skin on mine. And when his index discreetly pushes a strand of hair away from my lips.

I latch onto all of it, the once in a lifetime comfort he's offering. I leech on the one tether I have to sanity, gripping his wrists in my cold palms and watching him the way his eyes beg me to.

"I am not doing this as a friend," Sal starts quietly, never blinking beneath that strong stare. His tone a perfect mask of calm, of stability. "I am not doing this as a companion. I am not doing this as someone who cares." All mistaken meanings combined— he's touching every base so that I don't misunderstand his approach. "I am doing this as someone who understands." His thumb rubs over my too warm skin, soothing whatever negativity is still roiling around inside. I try to ignore the sparks of want that erupt throughout my body. It's not insatiable, it's just an overwhelming desire to keep his hands on my face. To have him shield me from everything.

"Get your head on straight." Those words, spoken so gently but with a dominant edge— all to give me a mental launching pad so that I'm not fighting alone right now. "Remember that you have the power to sue the fuck out of anyone who comes for you. Okay?"

I swallow thickly, roaring at the tears that suddenly sting my eyes. Not now, not in front of him.

But I nod. And he pulls away. I feel the lack of his warmth immediately, the emptiness.

Another phone rings and Sal hisses in front of me, but I don't pay much mind. I'm too busy trying to reel myself in and remember that there's always a solution. I'll be fine, it'll all be fine.

"What?" Sal snaps, frustration lacing his pretty voice. Then silence, aside from Lisa getting real aggressive with my mom in a bedroom to the right.

I look up, noting his phone held to his ear and those baby blue eyes darting back and forth along the carpeted floor.

"Fine. We'll head back. When are you guys leaving?" Sal says, still a bit snappy but softer this time. I guess he's talking to either Ash or Larry.

Sal doesn't even say goodbye, just shuts his phone off and tucks it away before turning to his dad. "I'm sorry, but we have to leave," he says, voice emotionless like it had been earlier. My mood only seems to dampen at the sound. "Can you get Lisa?"

Henry knows the drill. He nods grimly then goes over to the room Lisa's in, pulling her out as she snaps a dark, "Rot in hell." into the phone before ending the call.

My eyebrows raise, a hint of amusement flitting through me at the remark. Heather deserved that.

Lisa rushes over to me, handing over my phone and cupping my face in her hands like Sal did just moments ago. "Don't let her scare you, honey. She's a mean old lady with nothing better to do," she tells me gently, smiling sadly.

A watery laugh leaves me, but being on the verge of tears, I really don't trust myself to utter a single word.

Lisa seems to understand. She rubs my cheek, kisses the top of my head, then pulls away. "Come visit me before you all leave."

I nod, swallowing thickly. Praying that I bounce back from this and set some boundaries with my mom. However that sliver of hell on earth will go.

Sal and I walk out moments later. Our journey back to his house is spent in the dark, crickets chirping and owls hooting. We don't talk. Sal was respectful enough in that sense, but I hardly remember the walk back. It went so fast, took so little effort with my mind trained on other things.

And Ash, unaware of what went down at Henry and Lisa's, greets me with a yelled, "Where the hell did you two even hide!? We checked, like, everywhere!" She pauses, assessing me. "And how the hell did you get into Sal's hoodie without either of you ripping each other apart!?"

"We didn't hide," I mumble, giving her a smile I don't feel and walking to the couch. I'm numb. Whereas the world was crashing down around me at the apartments earlier, now it's just stagnant. I can't find it in me to care.

Ash goes quiet, although I feel her gaze on me. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" She asks, tone comforting and sweet.

"Yea," I sigh. I don't want to worry her. I can tell her about what happened later if she's still concerned. "Just tired."

She hums like she doesn't believe me, but says, "Okay, so I guess you don't want to come out with Larry and I? We're going to a bar on main street."

I shake my head, turning on the TV and completely checking out of the conversation. My social battery is empty for the night-- I just want to be alone.

I vaguely hear Ash and Larry asking if Sal wants to join, but he declines. Walks over to his room in my peripheral.

Then the front door shuts, buffering the sound of Ash and Larry's conversation. Their voices are muted, hardly carrying into the house now.

I stay perched on the couch, turning to Sal when he doesn't immediately disappear into his room.

His one hand holds onto the door jamb, his chest and head poking out of his bedroom door while the rest of him stays hidden. His prosthetic turned to the front door, listening as his friends voices grow quieter with the distance they create as they walk away from us.

This should be an opportunity for me, but I don't have anything in me to start up a game with Sal right now. His pep-talk helped me earlier, but now I just... I don't want to socialize. I don't want to talk. I don't want to have to fight to get some short-lived distraction from Sal. Even if it would be nice, it just isn't us unless we're making it unique. Personal. Filled with hate and loathing. 

I realize I'm staring his way when his gaze suddenly cuts to me. Those haunting blue eyes glance around my body before settling on my face, both of us watching each other. Emotionless.

Then he disappears into his room, door shutting softly behind him. 

Sal may be a lot of things-- bad things-- but I have to give it to him. He knows how to read a room, when to be serious, and when to back down. He has never once disrespected my decision and he holds the championship for that kind of care even now. 

It's not much, but he treats me like an actual human being whenever I need it most. When I'm mentally stable is when he breaks free from that facade and creates chaos. And that-- that's fine. That's what makes being stuck in his presence fun.

I chew on my bottom lip, dissociating a bit as I watch his closed door, listening to automated laughter on the television before me. 

I blink out of my daze when Sal's door swings open again and he pokes his head out. He doesn't look at me at first, his fingertips pressing into the door jamb again. But when he finally does turn his attention to me, those darkened eyes catching my own, he says, "I don't know how to word this."

I'm unable to form my own words. He clearly wants to ask me something. Why is hesitant? It's unlike him. Unsettling. "You've never filtered yourself before. Spit it out," I simply reply. 

I hate that damned prosthetic. I wish he'd keep it off forever so I could see his expression. So I could get some kind of read on him, if at all possible.

Because he just stands there, just watches me. Hell, he doesn't even blink for what feels like ages. 

"Let me fuck you," He seems to force out, like the words weighed a ton. "With your permission, of course."

I don't know what kind of face to put on, what kind of reaction to have. I'm used to him being upfront like this, but the salacious claim still catches me off guard when I least expect it. I did not foresee him walking right back out of his room with a sex proposal. Never in a million years, at least not with the kind of mood I'm in.

But I debate it. I sit on the offer for a minute, let it percolate. I want it-- I really do. Our entire arrangement is for sex. But can I do it right now? Can I handle the arguments and strife that comes with our rocky situation?

"How about I lay down ideas?" Sal interrupts my train of thought, tone one of contemplation and hesitance, like even he's nervous about approaching me like this. 

I tilt my head, but nod nonetheless. I can hear him out.

Sal averts his gaze beneath my stare before he very obviously forces himself to look me in the eye again. Cute.

"You had a bad day. We all have those. So a distraction would be nice, right?" I watch his Adam's apple bob. "Lucky for you, I have a cock. I can't think of a better distraction to be honest."

I nearly scowl. Cocky as ever.

"I'll do whatever you ask of me tonight though. Just for tonight," he pauses, sensual gaze traveling over my body like he already knows his next words will make me fold. The same way the audible change in his voice-- from nervous to assertive, sure of himself-- makes me lean toward giving into him. "I'll let you make a request. You don't have to say a single word tonight. If you want it gentle, I'll give it to you. If you want it rough, I'll make you plead until Lar and Ash return."

My mouth goes dry as I hold his gaze, my limbs quaking at the prospect of him being my bitch for the night. What a day to be alive. No matter how tonight goes, whatever I ask for, I know it'll end well.

"I will do whatever you want."

My tongue runs over my bottom lip as my eyes travel down his neck and over the top of his chest, relishing in the edge of that tattoo on his throat. 

I suck in a quick breath. "Promise? Whatever I want?" The words are hoarse, raspy as they fall from my lips.

"Anything," he confirms breathlessly, impatiently anticipating my answer.

I chew on the inside of my cheek, already knowing my decision. 

My feet press into the floor as I stand, walking over to him with venom and adrenaline in my veins.

"Then let's see what you've got."

-----------

A/N::::::: y'all already know the tw for next chapter HAAAAHAHAHAHA

hiiii my babies :3 i liked this chap when i first typed it out like two weeks ago but now i kind of hate it o_e also, i planned on having this published MUCH sooner butttt unfortunately finals are approaching so that means i've been getting slapped with project and exams in preparation for said finals soooo.... i've been busy >~< haven't even had the damn time to come and think about my mean sal </3

PLEASE GIVE ME RECOMMENDATIONS SO I CAN IMPROVE MY WRITING-- what did you like here? what didn't you like? what's a suggestion for improvement? what should i omit overall? THANK U <333

as always, my love, my heart, and my soul go out to all of you. have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night!! <333

[otdiaftg]

They are drawing too much attention now. In another moment someone is going to step up where the Foxes won't, and Andrew would react to that threat in the worst possible way. Neil has maybe ten seconds to make this right and no idea where to start. Andrew isn't worried about hurting Allison, so Neil can't exactly appeal to his better nature. The last time Andrew looked a breath away from killing someone Neil had used Kevin as a distraction. That won't work this time, but maybe—Neil hesitates, then gives up second guessing. "That's enough," he says in German.

He was close enough to grab Andrew, but Andrew had warned him he didn't like being touched. He held his hand out over Renee's head instead and waited for Andrew to flick it a hooded look. Satisfied he had Andrew's attention, Neil said again, "That's enough, Andrew." "You don't get to decide that." "If you hurt her, you disqualify us," Neil said. "The ERC won't let us play with eight people." "Your single-mindedness is as nauseating as always." "You promised," Neil insisted, bending the truth until it almost broke. "You said you'd stop cutting them off at the knees. You said you'd cooperate at least until we destroyed the Ravens in finals. Were you lying to me?" "I didn't promise that," Andrew said. "You promised to have my back this year," Neil said, "and I told you where I was going. It's all the same at this point whether you want it to be or not. So do you have my back or don't you? Andrew," Neil insisted when Andrew didn't answer fast enough. "Look at me." Andrew's mouth gave a violent twitch, a grimace he forcibly repressed, and he finally looked up. The darkness in his stare almost took Neil's breath away. Fast on the heels of shock was a bolt of triumph. Andrew had been back from Easthaven for almost two weeks, and this was the first sign that there was anything real going on behind that blank mask. Neil would have preferred to see the real Andrew under safer circumstances, but knowing he could be reached was a desperate relief. "Fuck you," Andrew said. The edge in his voice had every hair on Neil's arms standing on end. Neil held Andrew's stare, silently daring that anger to break against him instead of Allison. "Do you or don't you?" Neil asked again. "I made him a promise, too," Andrew said. "I won't break his to keep yours."

Day: Saturday, January 13th Time: 7:25 AM EST

[hearts4golbach]

Light Shower. (Sal Fisher x Fem!Reader.)

part 13

-

"I was surprised to see heaven in your eyes. I never once was treated right. You're what I'm missing in my life.

as bright as the sun, give me your vitamin d, let's run into another dimension. you make me feel like I'm on drugs."

-

"sally face." I sniffled. "we need to talk."

he looked at me, concerned. "Yeah..?" we were on my bed. my room was nearly empty now, boxes piled in the closet. I wonder how he hadn't noticed or never even brought it up. I looked out my window, the same window I had looked out of every day for the past 13 years. the sunset stayed just as beautiful as the first.

"I'm moving."

sal felt his heart drop. "You're staying in town, right?" he pleaded. he gently grabbed my hand. my heart ached, I didn't want to leave my best friend. he was my rock, and I wasn't sure I could live laugh love without him.

"No." I croaked.

sal giggled. "you're funny, you really know how to give me a fucking heart attack." he pushed my hand away from him.

"I'm not shitting you. look around my room, sal." I was being harsh but I was so very scared.

he hesitated before looking around, knowing he was about to be proven wrong. "oh." he replied.

"yeah."

sal rubbed his eye and wiped his hand on his pants. "are we going to be okay?" sal asked cautiously.

I laughed quietly. "if you think you can get rid of me that easily, you're crazy."

he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and rested his head. he let out a shaky sigh. "we can be pen pals?"

"duh." I exclaimed.

"Where are you moving to?"

"nockfell."

-

I hugged my knees to my chest as I zoned out. ever since that night, I've felt too guilty to even look sal in the eye: guilty because I let him touch me again. I knew I should've talked to sal about it. part of me screamed that if I told him, sal would hurt me. but I knew that wasn't sal, sal wasn't Shawn. he was gentle, maybe too gentle at times. so much more gentle than shawn could've ever been. the though of him made me sick, even saying his name felt like vomit. I never realized how much I missed sal until he was back in my arms. now, I can't live without him.

-

Yet another day at the lake with Sal, Larry, Ash, Todd, and Neil. I mean, was there anything better to do in this boring ass town? I sat at the edge of the water, contemplating wether or not I should tell Sal. Anxiety resonated in me as I decided I should talk to Sal about it. He's been unconditionally loving, but I still feel like he's angry. I sat on the trunk of Ash's car watching as Ash and Larry fought, trying to drown each other. Although my head was pounding, a smile still managed to creep up on my face. The sun wasn't blazing, surprisingly, so I knew the water was probably freezing.

Staying clean was like holding my breath, and every relapse was choking me like chains wrapped around my neck. With every hit, snort, temptation; they got tighter.

I watched as Sal flipped his soaking hair over his shoulder. "So sassy!" I called to him.

He looked over at me and put his hand on his waist, popping out his hip. "I know, right?" He said in a girly voice.

I rolled my eyes and giggled.

"I love you."

"I love you more!" He replied, still using his feminine voice.

Ash made a gagging noise. "That's you and Larry," Sal teased.

"Me gagging?!" She exclaimed. Sal nodded. "Ew! Stooop! That's Y/n on you, don't even."

"Yeah, for sure later tonight!" I called.

Sal's ears turned bright red. "Oh my God, it was supposed to be a comeback! You guys are impossible!"

Sal came up on the shore shivering. He leaned against the car next to me. "Hey, babe."

"Hi, Sally Face, you done in the water?"

"I thought I'd go back in with you if you wanted to come." He turned away from the lake and took off his mask to wipe his face.

"Okay, I'll come with you." I paused. "I'm sorry."

"For what? You didn't do anything." His voice muffled as he strapped his mask back on.

"Relapsing. I don't remember what happened after I did but I know you were there. Me overdosing was a sign. I'm really done this time."

"You don't need to apologize. Relapse is part of recovery. I know you're strong, Y/n, but I also can't lose someone else to addiction. Just seeing my dad drink is hard." He put his wet hair in a ponytail.

"Thank you so much, Sal." Was all I could mutter out. "I just don't want you to be mad at me."

"I could never be mad, especially over something like this." His eyes squinted, signalling that he was smiling. I smiled back.

Sal gave me a piggy back ride as we made our way into the water. I yelped when the freezing water hit my body. I wrapped my legs around Sal tighter, making him chuckle.

"Don't be such a pussy, Y/n!" Larry teased, splashing me with water.

"You're such a cunt!" I said, pushing myself off Sal's shoulders and on to Larry, shoving him back into the lake.

Larry came up screaming and sputtering, "You killed me!" He squeezed his eyes shut, moving his arms around like a zombie before gripping my shoulders and violently shaking me.

"Ew, get off me!" I laughed hysterically.

-

I laid in Sal's bed on my stomach, close to crying about the sunburn I earned today. My legs wereshed across Sal's lap as he consoled me.

"Why didn't you put on sunscreen, love?" He questioned me while trying to hold back a chuckle.

"'Cause I wasn't planning on getting in!" I grumbled.

"Okay." He moved my legs off his lap. He walked out of the room and came back with after sun lotion.

"Awe, Sally." I cooed as I sat up. "Here, let me put some o-"

"No, let me do it."

"Okay, why?" I asked him.

"Because I love you," he said quietly.

I smirked and kissed his prosthetic lips. "Okay." I smiled sweetly.  He helped me gently lift up my shirt and and started to apply the lotion.

"Remember when you did this for me in, like, 2nd grade, or something close to that." I could hear the small smile in his voice.

-

"Dad, my sunburn hurts!" Baby Sal cried out. It was so hot in New Jersey that his moist thighs stuck to the hot leather seat, nearly melting and fusing himself with the seat.

"I know, son. We're almost home. I told you to reapply!" Henry scolded.

"I did!" Sal sassily drug out the I. I was in the seat next to him, giggling at his attitude.

Sal dramatically crawled on his hands and knees. I tapped his ass with my foot. "What are you doing, silly!"

"Heyyy!" He groaned.

"You're so weird!"

-

"Y/n, sweetie, I have to head to work, it's an emergency. Would you mind putting medicine on Sal's burn?" He begged, tossing his bag over his shoulder. What a main character.

"Yeah, of course Mr. Fisher!" I grinned happily and took the lotion into the living room where Sal was sulking.

His bare back was up towards the ceiling but his head was turned towards the TV which was playing a cartoon with a fat yellow man eating a pink donut. I sighed and sat down next to him. "I gotta put this lotion on your back, Sally."

He groaned. "Y/n!" He whined.

"Don't be a baby! It won't hurt."

"But your hands are going to be so cold!"

"Oh, hush!" I silenced him, gently rubbing the lotion on his scorching red skin.

-

'ghost hunting with me n lar pls? :)' Sal texted me at 6 in the afternoon as I was falling asleep watching the news.

'zzzzzz im asleep I didnt read your text.'

'y/nnnnnn pls pls come w/ us' I smiled at the text.

'you begging is adorable, ofc ill come I was joking w/ u Sally Face :)'

'yayyy ty Ml'

'so many abbreviations lol'

'yki'

'???'

'you know it'

'oml'

'<3'

i met sal and larry in the basement. their matching sanity's fall shirts made me giggle. Larry looked like the big green giant next to my 5"6' sal.

"Larry, how many green beans have you eaten recently?" I questioned, giving him a once over.

"oh, don't even trip. I've been eating more than just green beans. ive been eating hella pussy, too." he fought back with a sly smirk.

"ew, lar, too much information." I rolled my eyes.

"hashtag tmi!" sal exclaimed in a girly voice.

"that was random." Larry snorted as we made out way up to the 5th floor. "so, y/n. there's this girl named Megan, she lives in the bathroom up here. she's a ghost." Larry rambled.

"did you seriously just spoil that surprise?" sal mumbled, staring down at his gear boy.

Larry's eyebrows raised, almost touching hid receding hairline. "shit, sorry, dude! there's not a ghost girl named Megan who's 7 and has purple hair." Larry dismissed me by waving his hand.

"uh, okay..?"

"Larry, shut the fuck up! she can learn about Megan herself. I don't want y/n to get bored." sal scolded Larry.

we walked into the last apartment on the 5th floor. the heavy smell of aged wallpaper and musk filled my nose. I scrunched my nose. I looked around the dimly lit room. the window was boarded up as well as another door at the very end of the room.

sal took a beautifully designed key out of his pocket and unlocked the bathroom door. I followed the duo cautiously. sal stood confidently in the middle of the room, seemingly waiting for something to happen. soon enough, his gearboy began to glow green as it vibrated in his hands.

a mass of translucent flesh and bone began to form from the floor. I watched horrified as the squelches of organs reincarnating filled my ears. the girl that nke stood in front of me held a goofy smile om her face. her expression softened as her cloudy eyes landed on sal.

"Hi, Sally Face! hi larry!"

"what's up, little lady." larry smiled, giving her a fist bump.

"Hey, Megan. you said you wanted to meet y/n, right?" she nodded eagerly at sals words.

I smiled at her and waved. "Hi, angel."

"Hi, y/n! sal told me so much about you. you're even prettier than he described!" she exclaimed.

sals ears glowed light pink. "is that so? well, thank you, but that's all you. I love your hair, it's a beautiful shade of purple."

"thank you so much, Y/n! mommy's calling me, already! promise you'll come see me? these boys are smelly!" she giggled quietly, pinching her nose. "goodbye!"

"of course, goodbye!"

"did she just call me smelly?" they exclaimed in unison.

[raegingbitch]

Andrew drove back to Palmetto blaring music loud enough to drown out Nicky and his worrying. Neil hadn’t come along with them, but maybe it was just the junkie being too scared to see him sober. Either way Andrew didn’t give a fuck.

When they pulled up to the tower everyone dove out of the car not wanting to spend another second with Andrew and his brooding silence. Andrew slowly made his way back to the dorm. Neil hadn’t wanted to see him and maybe Andrew didn’t want to see him either. Didn’t want to see his face fall when he realized Andrew was a totally different person off the meds.

So Andrew passed right by their room and headed up instead to the roof. He stopped at the edge and leaned over just a bit. Yep, this still did it for him. He sat down and knocked his heels on the side of the building a few times. Andrew lit up a cigarette and took a few drags.

Neil was still on his mind. It was infuriating. Neil was everything Andrew despised wrapped into an angry little 5’3” package. He never wanted to see Neil again, yet he seemed to be waiting for Nail to appear. By now one of the others would have told him they’re back and Neil would put together that he’s on the roof. So Andrew sat and chain-smoked for hours.

When Andrew finally called it it was past midnight. He tossed half a lit cigarette over the edge and stood up. He needed to see Neil. He shouldn’t care, yet it occupied every corner of his mind.

He pushed into the dorm and went straight for the room they shared. The door swung open and Andrew caught sight of Kevin snoring to the side. Neil was not in his bed. In fact, the bed seemed unused. The sheets pressed flat and pillow fluffed as of it had never been used. Andrew froze for a full minute. Neil ran. Of course he did. Andrew left for a second and he was gone. Andrew should have know, rabbits always run.

Andrew should go to bed. This barely affected him. All Neil was to him was a deal to be kept. Yet Andrew found himself shoving Kevin awake anyway.

“What the fuck Andrew” he groaned through still closed eyes.

“Neil.” He said. His tone was bored but if you listened close you could hear the worry.

Kevin’s eyes slid open as he yawned. “Who?”

“Neil. Josten. 5’3”. Big attitude problem. Sleeps over there.” He gestured at Neils abandoned bed.

“Andrew I have no idea what you’re talking about. Nobody else lives here. Not since you kicked Aaron out.”

A pipe dream. He had always thought of Neil as a pipe dream. A side effect of the drugs. A thorn in his side that would disappear when he sobered up. The thought had pleased him, never seeing the annoying junkie again.

But now, the reality is hitting him like concrete after a fifty foot drop. Kevin had already rolled over and started snoring again.

Andrew back away from his bed. Neil Josten. Someone he had seen, heard, touched. Neil who had a smart mouth and the prettiest eyes. Neil who had all too quickly become the most important thing in his life. And he was gone. Even half asleep Kevin couldn’t have forgotten Neil, right?

Andrew tore open the closet, the drawers. He ripped the sheets off Neils bed and checked underneath it. There was no trace of Neil.

He dialed Wymack. “Minyard, do you know what goddamn time it is.”

“Who was the latest recruit?” He hoped Wymack couldn’t hear the desperation in his voice.

“Uh it was that kid from Alabama. Peterson, but he left a few months ago. Why the hell do you care?”

Andrew hung up. Neil did not exist. Andrew on medication had actually made up an entire person. Someone who he hated more than anyone. Someone he wanted more than anyone.

He fled to the roof. He had shared cigarette after cigarette with Neil up here. Shared truth after truth. But it all meant nothing because apparently Andrew had just been talking to himself the whole time.

Andrew was supposed to be numb. Get off the meds and go back to his usual apathetic self. But all he wanted to do was scream. Neil and his dumb mouth which Andrew wanted to punch and kiss all at once. Neil and his stupid exy obsession. Neil. Neil. Neil. But none of it was real. Just a pipe dream his drug addled mind had came up with to deal with his tradgedy of a life.

And if Neil wasn’t real then where the hell did that leave him?

imagine andrew coming off his meds and coming back to palmetto only to realise neil really was a hallucination.

okay now maybe don't-

[passivenovember]

Part two to This...

--

The truth is, Billy has a bruise under the neckline of the light blue sweater Steve’s been staring at all night. The stock pot of wherever the watercolor cashmere came from, purpling around the edges where it catches bits of strength like storm clouds.

It was a gift. Billy doesn’t know if he means the bruise or the sweater, but that’s nickels and dimes compared to the look Steve gives him, I can’t watch you marry someone else, putting the final nail in the coffin Billy’s escaped twice before.

He’s embarrassed. All that hard work, y’know, tossed to the wind because he can’t stand the sound of his own voice so he’s gotta fill every silence with the measured, stiff vocal fry of a man who should be Steve Harrington.

Billy always was a sucker for punishment.

And the truth is that Max knows. About everything. 

The fights and the bruises and the torch that keeps him trapped here because the truth is Billy isn’t going anywhere without Steve.

All Through dinner while Billy’s biggest regret prattles on and on, everyone laughing at his jokes and Steve shrinks further in on himself, Max glares at him. 

tell Steve. tell him. tell him tell him tell him--

But the truth is, Billy knows he wouldn’t survive whatever comes next. 

He would rather die, cut his own wrists open than tell everyone and Steve that the man he brought as a Hail Mary pass to save face until he can afford to do something else turned out to be Neil in a nicer package.

And Steve would make that face. Puff his chest, like. He’d get his knuckles bloody on account of Billy Hargrove, and. The truth is, Steve hears the exact wrong thing from the very same horse that told Billy on the drive over that he’s shit stain who no one could ever love. 

I’m going to ask Billy to shackle himself to me, a willing prisoner evermore.

And without a second thought, Steve buys into it. Says, “I can’t watch you marry someone else,” and “I’ve watched you love someone else for so long,” but, “I can’t do that. It’ll kill me.” And Billy thinks.

How did I fuck this up so badly. 

How did I let my dream come down from the atmosphere. How did I take so many wrong turns--

“Look,” Steve dries his own tears when he catches on that Billy’s trying to keep those for himself. “I’m sorry.”

And, he moves away. 

Somehow, Billy finds his voice. “You’re sorry for what?”

“For. Everything. I’m sorry that I won’t be there.” Steve says, lip all swollen and shivering like he’s going to cry some more. 

And Billy. He’s gonna ralph. “What does that mean.”

“I can’t watch it.” Steve says again. He leans forward, gets closer, hands splaying wide like he wants to grab Billy and shake him or hold him tight and never let go. “I can’t.”

Distantly, Billy hears laughter in the backyard. 

Sees the honey-soft glow of the fairy lights where they peak over the roof and shine like a million stars in Steve’s eyes. 

And the truth is, Billy knows a green light when he sees one. Can sense that this is what it’s supposed to feel like when the planets align and the heavens open up and things go his way, but.

Suddenly, Billy’s eighteen years old in his bedroom trying to decide between a set of broken ribs or sneaking through the cracked window to see a beautiful boy.

The irony is that. Even now, even ten years later, it’s still the same choice. The same ribs, the same beautiful pair of brown eyes.

Suddenly, he’s terrified. He’s lost his voice. His will to live, and.

Steve leans against the car it before turning again, face twisted with so much pain that Billy.

Hardly even flinches when the door slams and Steve disappears for the last time.

--

The boyfriend is all smoke and mirrors. A bark that leads to a bite, a split lip and then the fucker skips town when Hopper pulls a gun.

And the truth is, Billy never deserved the family he got. 

He still doesn’t, but. 

The boyfriend lives a few towns over. “Probably won’t come back,” Hopper tells him, saddling next to Billy on the porch while he ices his face with the steak Joyce was gonna cook for her anniversary.

Billy doesn’t say he hopes it’s true. 

Hopper sips a PBR, the same thing Steve chokes down when they all get together like this because it’s all Hawkin’s carries on Holidays, and sighs. 

“Y’know, kid,” He starts, “It’s not wrong to want better for yourself.”

Billy leans forward, elbows to knees, trying to block everything from trying to squeeze inside his head.

Hopper doesn’t say anything more. Eventually, the kids start to pour onto the front lawn with coats and scarves wrapped tight, even Mike Fucking Wheeler stopping to rub Billy on the shoulder and tell him to call if he needs anything.

When they’re all gone and Joyce pokes her head out the screen door, saying, “Billy, honey, I made up the guest room for you,”

Hopper snorts and says, “Kid isn’t sleeping here, Joyce. Steve’s waiting up for him.”

Billy drops his steak on the ground. It leaves a red stamp on the porch. “He’s not,” Billy tells him, wanting very much to rip Hopper’s stupid mustache out by the follicle. “Why the fuck would you say that, he’s not--”

“None of my business,” Hopper drawls, “But it’s like I said. Not wrong of you to want better for yourself, especially when the best thing is pacing the window right across town.”

--

Well past midnight, Billy parks his car on a quiet, silver street that has been frozen in time for the last ten years.

Steve knew he was coming. He’s sitting in the window, wild hair dipped in caramel lamp-light in that Scooby-Doo ass mausoleum Ma and Pa left to him when they died in Rome. Probably wringing his hands.

If Steve’s watching Billy pad up the driveway, feeling eighteen years old, body remembering every aching step Billy took that summer, nursing a set of broken ribs for the chance to see him one more time before sunrise, Steve doesn’t spill.

He just stares out the window. 

Wringing his hands. 

He gets up and disappears from view the second Billy’s foot touches the top step, and then he’s there. A dream come true, a mirage cloaked in light. 

Steve looks like he’s been crying. 

Like he woke up to a telephone call of someone breaking the most pathetic news in the history of the world; Billy Hargrove, Trapped by the Skeleton of His Father. 

Billy wonders who called him. If it was Dustin or Max or Nancy. Wonders if they mentioned that it was so predictable. 

Probably not.

He expects Steve to mention it. To shake his head and grab Billy by the throat. To say How could you be so stupid? I risk my life to dig you out of the grave Neil built for you and this is how you repay me?

But Steve doesn’t say that.

He doesn’t say anything, he just. Walks forward. And wraps Billy in his arms. And kisses away the tears that spring like fountains from Babylon. And when the sun rises, amber waves carrying Billy to shore, Steve slots in close behind him and breathes the smell of their naked skin.

It’s Heaven.

“I’m never letting you go,” Steve tells him, “Now that I have you, I’m never letting go, Billy.”

[jingerhead]

R-role reversal au? Like as in Andrew-Neil role reversal? Or Andrew-Aaron role reversal? Could we have more information please?

Of course lovely!! This is a collab I'm working on with @paradoxolotl and it's technically an Aaron/Andrew role reversal with Neil. The difference is while the twins have completely different backstories, the basics of Neil's is much the same.

Andrew and Aaron are sons of a mafia boss. They went on the run in their teens, their father has been looking for them ever since their mother died and they mysteriously disappeared, but has been unsuccessful. They end up going to Palmetto after being scouted by Wymack and Kevin. Aaron sees it as an opportunity to start a new life, and Andrew will doing anything for his brother. But while they get relatively welcomed by everyone else, the one person onto them is Neil Josten.

Neil Josten was once Nathaniel Wesninski, son of Nathan Wesninski, the serial killer known as the Butcher of Baltimore. Nathan never had connections to anyone like the Moriyamas and Mary never took her son on the run (something he's never forgiven her for). He had planned to run away once he turned 18, but Nathan wasn't going to let anyone go and almost killed them both. Neil survived, was given a new life and new name, got addicted to some medication that induce a form of mania. Wymack found him playing exy and recruited him, and when Kevin ran away from the nest Neil offered him protection so long as Kevin would teach him how to go pro.

Though all 3 of them try to outrun their pasts, they aren't able to. A lot of the events of the series are similar. Here's a little snidbit if you'd like to check some of this out!

~*~

“What’s your real name?” Neil asked.

After a split second of hesitation, Andrew told him the truth. “Andrew Minyard.”

“What?” Andrew glanced to his right in time to see Neil’s manic smile actually drop, eyebrows drawing into a frown. “You kept your same first name?”

“Yes,” Andrew said with a shrug.

“That’s so stupid!” Neil exclaimed. Andrew had to wonder for a moment if he was off his meds to be able to pull the face he had on, but he quickly decided he didn’t care. “You can’t keep your same first name! Do you have any idea how easy it would be to find you? You could fucking google it.”

“It’s worked,” Andrew pointed out.

“Maybe because nobody would guess you’d be that dumb,” Neil snapped.

Andrew didn’t argue against it. Now that Neil pointed it out, he supposed it was kind of stupid, but then again…it has worked. He had no idea how his father was trying to find them, but they’ve managed to stay under the radar for this long. Not for much longer, he reminded himself.

“I wasn’t expecting this,” Neil mumbled, shifting where he was sitting on the roof’s edge. “I thought you would’ve said ‘no’. Why’re you giving me this?”

“You haven’t given me a reason to not trust you.”

“Really? I can think of at least thirty reasons off the top of my head.”

“Reasons why someone else shouldn’t trust you, or reasons why you wouldn’t trust yourself?” Andrew asked.

Neil shrugged. “Is there a difference?”

“There is to me,” Andrew said, which was the biggest truth he’d revealed yet.

Neil seemed stunned to silence for a moment, which Andrew allowed himself to revel in. His mouth opened and closed twice before he turned his head and got to his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I can’t tell if you’re choosing to have the worst self-preservation skills or not,” he said, his unsettling grin returning to his face. “Or maybe they’re not for you.”

Heart skipping a beat, Andrew looked away to face the slowly setting sun, knowing that action gave everything away. He didn’t have to say anything for Neil to guess everything with the information he already had, but surprisingly it didn’t scare him at all. All the effort he put in to keep Aaron safe, and he was just handing it away to the son of a serial killer. It was absolutely insane.

And yet.

“Does your brother know?” Neil asked.

“No,” Andrew said, voice soft. He felt exhausted.

After another moment of silence, Neil moved to walk away, his shoes scraping against the concrete of the roof. “I’ll go to the Hemmick’s for Thanksgiving,” he said as he walked away. The slam of the door didn’t feel as harsh as it sounded.

[emma-frxst]

Pool Party

pairing: Colossus x reader

summary: @master-sass-blast requested “PIOTR SEEING READER IN SWIMSUIT FOR THE FIRST TIME!!!” 

A/N- thanks for requesting sass! I had a lot of fun writing this one. tag list open, reblogs appreicated!

-

Your sunglasses rested delicately on your nose as you sipped your drink and fell into deep relaxation. Music played and your friends chatted in the background as everyone gathered by the pool at the X- mansion.

Your co- workers thought it would be nice to throw a girls-only back to school pool party before all the students moved in for the year. And you, 3 margaritas deep, couldn’t agree more. It felt good be back at the X mansion after a few months of summer break. You missed your friends, and one handsome metal man whom you’ve had your eye on for a while now. Speaking of the handsome metal man, the music was suddenly overpowered by the sounds of a lawnmower. Piotr. He was responsible for some of the the upkeep of the mansion grounds over the summer months. “Ugh..Fucking Piotr and his yard work, god.” Lex commented, going to turn up the speaker.

“Yeah I wish I was” you said.

“You wish you were what? god?”

“No, I wish I was fucking Piotr.”

Laughter roared from you and your friends. “Hey seriously though, don’t be so salty about Piotr gardening and doing lawn work, I don’t see you volunteering, Lex.” You joked, you liked to give your best friend a hard time.

“Couldn’t be me… Hey don’t we have someone who’s power is to literally control plants? So they could do the yard work much more easily?”

“Yeah, that’s professor Stewart who’s still away for the summer, but Piotr likes to do it, he was a farmer back home.”

“So you’ve got yourself a farm boy, y/n?” Lex teased.

“No. Not yet anyways.” You replied, taking a sip of your drink.

“You should go for it. I think he likes you.”

“Really?” You questioned.

A chorus of yeses sounded from the girls.

“Alright I didn’t know everyone was in on this.”

“Of course we are.” Storm interjected, winking at you.

“You don’t think it’d be weird since we’re co-workers?”

“I think it’ll be fine.” Lex said, nudging you.

You pondered the possibility for a moment.

“I’m getting in the pool.” You stated, pushing those thoughts away for now.

.

Piotr had his headphones on jamming out while doing yard work. Listening to none other than Neil Diamond; his favorite.

It was hot out. Piotr didn’t sweat when he was in metal form, but if he did he would be sweaty.

A brilliant idea struck him.

The pool.

He finished mowing and headed that way, eager to feel the cool water on his skin. He unlatched the side gate and stopped dead in his tracks- finding everyone looking at him.

He slowly took off his headphones, becoming a bit timid.

“Oh. I’m sorry ladies. I…..” 

his mind went blank upon seeing you. Gorgeous you- In a swimsuit nonetheless. Piotr was first and foremost a gentleman, but the way your swimsuit hugged you just right made him weak. His heart began racing and a lump formed in his throat. He was thankful he was in defense mode, otherwise he would probably be as red as a tomato.

“Um… “ Piotr swallowed thickly. “I-I didn’t realize there was anyone on campus. I’ll come back another time. I didn’t meant to intrude.” He said, secretly hoping someone (you), would ask him to stay.

“No, Piotr it’s ok, you can stay.” Storm butted in, “you’ve been working hard, come cool off a second.”

“Are you sure?” He questioned.

“Of course.” Storm replied and not so subtly gave you the look.

After giving everyone polite greetings, Piotr approached the edge of the pool.

“Hello y/n” He said, a big smile crossing his features.

“Hey Piotr! Come on in, the waters fine!”

He happily obliged.

After a few minutes of small talk, you heard a voice in your head that wasn’t yours.

‘Flirt with him, y/n!’

Wha-? Jean? Get outta my thoughts please.

You turned and shot her a look. To which she only smiled a sly, little smile.

The few seconds your head was turned, you could feel Piotr’s eyes on you- and not in a gross, creepy way. In a way that gave you goosebumps- the good kind. “Well, I should get back to working, I have crashed your party long enough.”

“You know you can crash the party anytime, Piotr. You’re my favorite party crasher.” You said in a poor attempt to flirt with him.

You were positive the girls would tease you for it later.

But hey, At least your comment got a smile out of him.

“Da, being the favorite is all that matters.” He said with a chuckle.

“Don’t party too hard without me.” He instructed while getting out of the pool, the water rolling off his shiny, muscular  body like water off a duck’s back.

“I won’t, but only since you asked so nicely.” You teased, earning another smile from the metal man.

“Thank you again for letting me stay ladies, have fun.” He politely waved at everyone. “See you y/n.”

“See ya! Don’t work too hard!” As soon as Colossus shut the gate he thought of you. Then thought of you in that swimsuit; it sent a shiver up his spine. god, you were gorgeous.

He absentmindedly reached for his headphones- that weren’t there.

Shit.

He left them at the pool.

you kicked yourself for not making a move, no time ever felt ‘right.’

‘There’s always next time’ you told yourself.

But then out of the corner of your eye, you saw Piotr’s headphones. He had left them on the table.

You quickly grabbed them and took off after him.

“I’ll be right back!” You shouted to the girls.

You flung open the side gate nearly hitting Piotr.

“Oh- Piotr I’m sorry, I was trying to catch up with you, you forgot these.” You held out the headphones.

“Da. Thank you very much y/n.”

“No problem.” Your reply cheerful as ever.

You both looked down at the ground awkwardly. Silence lingered. “Um..y/n?”

“Yes Piotr?”

He suddenly was nervous; fidgeting with his headphones.

“Would you like to get dinner sometime? With me?”

Your heart rate skyrocketed and your cheeks flushed with heat.

“I’d like that very much.”

-

Tags: (tag list of open, send me an ask if you want to be tagged, removed or only tagged for certain characters.) @chromecutie @xenomorphique @evelyn120700 @nightriver99 @iamwarrenspeace @this-that-and-every-thing-else @hsk-puma @bungeewabbit @pianomad @lesbianstarkx @hazilyimagine-blog  @super-darkcloudstudent @thehuntress26 @siren-lamented-vampire @mooleche @rovvboat @leo-writer @dandyqueen @nitemaremotionless @thewintersoldierswife

[sailorbuckley]

He’s been hanging out at Steve’s house lately. Or, more precisely, at the Upside Down version of Steve’s house.

He can take pride in the fact that he didn’t immediately run there, to that familiar place to seek that familiar voice.

He did keep his dignity for a while. Waking up in a place that looks exactly like Hawkins but not quite, right after he thought he died, was a bit frightening so. Give him a break. But he didn’t curl up and cry. He went looking for a weapon and something to eat and he learned to hide from the creatures and to stay away from the places with a glowing red sky. He visited his house but he didn’t stay long because if he was doomed to be still alive – or at least still breathing and feeling like he was – he could afford to be a little selfish and not know how Neil was reacting to it. He genuinely didn’t wanna know. So he left and sure, he hung out at the quarry and Skull Rock which were both tied to Steve’s gentle smile, his whispered praises for him and him only to hear, his warm hands on him and his soft laugh echoing in the night, but. Again. He was allowed to give himself some comfort.

He did, eventually, find himself looking for Steve’s house. His feet were practically walking towards it like they knew exactly their way home but the rest of Billy was too stubborn to take the initiative. They were glued to his legs and the rest of his body, so. He had no choice but to follow.

He’s not sure how many days have passed, but he’s heard Steve come and go for quite a while now. It’s like he has a routine now, which is insane and he sometimes laughs to himself thinking about it, but he does. It completely revolves around Steve schedule; he can’t see him, but he hears him leave for work every morning and that’s when he goes around looking for food or follows Steve to work. Which is even more pathetic, he can’t deny that. But he has nothing else left and Steve was the only one he cared about besides Max since he stepped foot in Hawkins anyway.

Steve doesn’t do much other than working, which is hard to witness. Dustin and Robin drop by sometimes, or try to drag him out of the house, but he’s almost never in the mood. Dustin doesn’t quite know how to handle it, so he just tries to crack a joke and distract him by telling him about his day or how’s it going with Suzie. Robin is more direct, but still sweet. She tries to get Steve to date again and ends up talking too much but Steve always listens, always nods, eager to have something that fills the silence.

But then, most of the time, it’s just the two of them. Well, it’s just Steve. Alone in that big house like it’s always been. Like he thought it’ll always be, no matter how much Billy told him in his clumsy, emotionally constipated way that it wasn’t true. Billy always sits near him, but Steve doesn’t know. Never will.

It’s late and Billy knows Steve can’t sleep. He’s known that he suffers from insomnia for a while, but he thinks it got worse since… that. So he often hears his blankets moving around for hours, or his feet being dragged down the stairs to get some water, or his hand playing with the lighter as he supposedly smokes by the window or sitting at the edge of the pool. But it’s quiet this time and Billy hopes, hopes, hopes it means Steve is finally asleep. He’s sitting across the room from his bed and he even starts to smile when suddenly, Steve starts talking.

“This is so fucking stupid.” he says and he sniffles like he’s holding back tears. “I mean, everything about this is stupid, but talking to you out loud is extremely stupid. I’m just sitting in my bed talking to myself but… Robin told me to at least try. To, you know, let it go. Let you go. As if it’s gonna work.” there’s a long pause and he hears Steve sigh. Billy ignores the tears running down his cheeks and keeps listening.

“I’ve never thought about making sure I’m always on good terms with someone in case it’s the last time I see them. Which is healthy I think, because you can’t live like that. What I mean is, I always knew I’ll never be what my dad wants me to be and even though I love my mom, I know that her career will always be her priority although she loves me too. And my friends before Robin, Dustin and the kids were always superficial. And with Nancy it didn’t work out. So it never occurred to me that closing every conversation with Bye, I love you or I had fun today could make me feel better. I didn’t really care about letting someone know it every single time before you. Well. I’ve never wanted to ingrain something in someone’s brain so bad before I met you, to be fair. The fact that you matter, that you’re worth it, you’re always worth it, that you have a bright future ahead of you, that you’re better than him, so much better than him. I could’ve repeated that to you everyday, you know. And now I can’t even talk in present tense. See how stupid this is?”

And Billy wants to say yeah, I know. Just when I finally found someone who cared about a piece of shit like me. But he’s sobbing.

“So I guess that knowing I love you wasn’t the last thing I told you will haunt me for a while” Steve keeps talking and it’s almost a whisper. “You always think you have more time, but you don’t. And I guess that the only comforting thing about this is that you never will. If I lost you in twenty years it still wouldn’t have been enough.” Another pause. “It would’ve been nice to have a few more years, though. Get you out of here. Let you take me to the ocean. See you surf. Make fun of you for your first grey hair.” He’s kinda laughing at himself now, but it’s sad and then he’s sniffling again. Trying so hard not to cry. Billy wants to tell him to give up. He won anyway. Billy’s been crying for a while now.

“Max takes the bus” he mutters after a while. “There’s nobody that drives her to school now. I’ve offered, but she refuses. And I get it. That would feel like somebody took your place.”

And Billy thinks, don’t do that to yourself. Because his place is also in Steve’s bed, in Steve’s lap, in Steve’s heart.

They both stay silent for a while. Billy isn’t sure there’s anything left to say. But then.

“I love you, by the way.” Steve concludes. “I’m glad I got to know you.” Another pause, like he’s thinking thisisstupid thisisstupid thisisstupid. “See you… whenever.”

And Billy is starting to forget his face, because this place fucks you up, and time is a double edged sword, but he remembers his brown eyes full of love when he closes his and says:“Yeah. See you whenever.”

[imperfectcourt]

Andreil Prompt:

Neil is an Assassin. Some day something goes very, very wrong. So the first time Andrew meets Neil, Neil has to explain to him that he accidentally poisened him and Andrew has to go to the hospital to get the antidote.

So I was really unsure about this but when I got going I got really excited about it! But I also COMPLETELY MISSED the line where it said "the first time" so this is very much not the first time they meet ;__; sorry! I hope you like it though!

Neil had never panicked on a job before. He’d never made a mistake or killed the wrong person or not killed the right person. He could kill whoever he was told to kill, he could kill however he was told to kill, and he could be whoever he was told to be in order to do it.

Killing Andrew Minyard was the worst and last mistake Neil would ever make.

Worming his way into A. Minyard’s life hadn’t been easy but it had been natural- the most honest work of his filthy, bloody life.

It had to be this way. It couldn’t look like a typical mob hit, anything abrupt and easy would look suspicious. The call had to come from inside the house, or so they say.

Neil tipped the vial into the remnants of the whiskey bottle and poured two modest glasses. It wouldn’t be pleasant for him but he’d built up enough of a tolerance to survive. Odorless, collarless, no paper trail. He’d suffer some hallucinations and maybe some minor liver damage but he’d live and after tonight he’d be free. No more Moriyama’s. No more contracts. No more death.

No more Andrew.

Neil brought one glass up to swirl, smell, sniff, and sip. A perfectly normal glass of whiskey. He brought out onto the small balcony and put them on the rickety table between two lawn chairs. Andrew picked his up and didn’t make the small cheers motion he always did as a silent thanks, didn’t drink. He’d been staring at his closed phone for the last half hour. Neil knew he would say what was wrong in time (if there was time).

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said after several long minutes, punctuating the statement with a sip. Guess there was time, after all. Neil sat sideways on his chair so he could watch Andrew light a cigarette.

“That sounds ominous. You’re not a murderer are you?”

Andrew’s top lip curled in a small, vicious smile. “That’s a truth for a different day.”

No, it wasn’t, and Neil found himself reaching for another mouthful of whiskey. Andrew raised a brow at this, having caught on a while ago that Neil liked to draw the drink out as long as possible if it meant he didn’t have to go home yet.

“It’s nothing to form a drinking habit over, calm down.” Andrew took up his drink again and every sip he took felt like friendly fire. “You’re going to see something on the news tomorrow and I’d rather tell you myself than get pissy with me for not bringing it up sooner.”

“Secrets secrets are no fun,” Neil parroted. Andrew kicked out his socked foot to hit Neil’s heel and didn’t pull it back.

“A story will be dropping about my brother’s involvement in a gang bust tonight. Just got word that everything went well but his services had been needed on sight.” With the hand that held the cigarette, he gave his cellphone a little shake.

“You have a brother?” That hadn’t been in the assignment, but family matters were often left out for jobs like this. He couldn’t go in knowing too much and risk exposing himself.

“My twin.”

“You have a twin?”

Andrew threw back the rest of his drink and waved it at Neil’s face. “The only reason I’m telling you is because you’re going to see him parading around on t.v. with my face. We’re not that close.”

A gang bust. Big enough for national news. That couldn’t- that would mean-

“What’s his name?”

“Aaron.”

“A. Minyard. Doctor Aaron Minyard.”

Andrew froze. Looked at Neil so expressionless he might as well have been stone. “I never said he was a doctor.”

He didn’t have to. Dr. A Minyard. Fox affiliated attached to a photograph. Andrew had his PhD and his connection to Kevin Day was easy enough to find if you knew where to look. The Foxes were an elusive bunch of vigilantes but everyone had heard of Kevin Day, son of the founders of the Foxes.

Neil had never made a mistake before and killing Andrew Minyard was the biggest mistake of his life. He knocked the glass from Andrew’s hand only because Andrew let him.

“Now, right now,” he changed, grabbing Andrew by the sleeve and tugging him back inside. It only worked because Andrew let him. Andrew was always letting Neil, trusting Neil. And for what? For this?

Neil let go when he was sure Andrew would follow him and rushed to the tiny kitchen. He took the water glass by the sink and upended the entire salt shaker into it.

“Drink this right now,” he ordered Andrew.

Andrew did not take it.

“Andrew, trust me just one last time. Just this one last time trust me and drink this. Just this once. Just this one last time.” There was time. There was barely time. It had been less than a minute, there had to be time.

Neil didn’t know what he would do if Andrew didn’t drink, if Neil killed him for nothing. No matter what the outcome, no matter Andrew's decision, Neil would die either way.

Andrew took the salt water, drank the whole thing, and promptly threw up in the sink.

Neil watched, hands in his hair and tears clouding his eyes as Andrew righted himself, wiping at his mouth with the back of his wrist.

“That’ll give you time to get to the hospital. You have to go now, you’ve got time.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Andrew put his hand slowly, calmly, over Neil’s throat, “until you explain.”

He pressed him into the wall.

Neil let him.

“You were supposed to be my last one and my contract would be fulfilled,” he said.

“Explain better than that. What does this have to do with Aaron?”

“There’s no time-”

“Then make it quick.” He pressed against Neil’s throat and Neil’s hands came up instinctively to grab his arm. He stopped before making contact.

“I was born into a debt that the Moriyama’s own. I was one of their hit men. A. Minyard. Fox associate. And a picture. That was my last assignment and I could finally… I could…”

Words were getting harder. He had begun ingesting the poison before Andrew and hadn’t gotten any of it out of his system.

“You’re the only one I never…”

“Never what? Never shot like a coward? Never succeeded in killing?”

“Never wanted to.” His hands came down onto Andrew’s forearm even though he didn’t have permission. His vision was swimming around the edges and he couldn’t tell if it was because of the drug or the pressure on his trachea. “I didn’t want to kill you. H-hospital. You still need the hospital. You have time.”

“Why should I believe a single thing you say?”

“I’ve never lied to you.” It was so important for him to say that somehow the words came out with conviction. “Never lied. Andrew, you’re amazing and I love you but you need to leave right now.”

His knees gave out and for the briefest moment all of his weight was being held by the hand on his throat. Andrew lowered them both to the ground.

“What did- You idiot.” Ah, yes. He must have caught on. “You did all this to live only to fucking kill yourself? Neil. Neil… Neil!”

Neil had never panicked on a job, but he’d also never woken up in a hospital bed before. He was aware of the spike in noise before he was aware of his surroundings.

“The worst assassin in history.”

Neil groaned but didn’t yet open his eyes. His memory was just solid enough to know what he’d taken and experience told him he wasn’t ready to face the spinning world.

“Can’t say he was wrong, technically,” the same voice said.

“What kind of assassin not only chooses the wrong target but falls in love with their dumb ass?”

“This dumb ass has the same level of education as your dumb ass.”

“My dumb ass has a doctorate of medicine, not in books.”

“Literature.”

“Still dumb.”

“Sssh,” Neil breathed out, testing the waters of control and strength. He had very little of either.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the dumbest of asses.”

“Give him another hour and he might even be able to respond.”

“Now who would want that.”

The second time Neil woke up in a hospital, it was enough for him to look around and realize this was not a hospital but rather a medically furnished bedroom.

“I hate you.”

He turned his head to see Andrew slouching back in an overstuffed, wingback chair. The look on his ever-passive face was angry and Neil would take angry over dead any day.

“You made it,” he slurred. His mouth felt like cotton. “You made it,” he said again because it was right and good. “You made it.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m fine. Got a tolerance”

“Is that something they teach you in the bright sunny world of the Nest?”

Neil made a finger gun at Andrew (why?) and slowly, slowly tilted himself onto his side to see him better. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew there were things he needed to worry about, but for now he just wanted to look.

“I’m happy you’re alive.”

“I don’t care.” And he sounded like he didn’t, but that was how he always sounded. Still Andrew. Still him. Still alive. For a long, quiet while they stared at each other.

“I have to go before the Moriyama’s come looking to do clean up. This won’t be tolerated.”

“No. It won’t be. But not by the Moriyama’s.”

Andrew stood in a motion that made him look much older than he was, tired. As he came to stand over the bed, Neil couldn’t help but stare because not killing Andrew Minyard was the only right thing he had ever done.

“The Foxes completed their take down of the Moriyama’s. It’s been all over the news, which you would have seen if you hadn’t poisoned yourself.”

The… the what? Something must have shown on Neil’s face because Andrew pressed him down into the bed a split second before he’d tried to sit up. As consciousness cleared his fog, his brain began catching up enough to understand that he wasn’t understanding. The synapses were there but they weren’t connecting.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered. Andrew’s mask twitched.

“Of course you don’t, you’ve been too deep cover to keep up with what was right under your nose. The Foxes won, there are no more Ravens, and you, Nathaniel, are a free man.”

The sound of that name, his name, sent a flinch so hard through his body that it made something cramp in his stomach. Andrew watched, bored, as he curled in on himself. If he knew that name, if his cover was blown so spectacularly, then there must be an ounce of truth to it.

“I’m just… Neil. I just want to be Neil.”

“Well, Neil.” Andrew slid his hand into Neil’s hair and squeezed, not hard but enough to tilt his head back. “If you ever do something that stupid again I will kill you myself.” Something in his eyes, however passive he tried to pull off, told Neil that Andrew was not referring to his own attempted murder.

“Were you… worried about me?” That couldn’t be right.

“I don’t know, Neil.” He kept saying his name like that and Neil didn’t know what to feel about it. “My whatever of a good stretch of time nearly killed himself. How should I be feeling?”

“I nearly killed you. I only poisoned myself a little.”

“Why?”

Why? The easy answer was forensics. Two glasses. Two drinkers. One lucky to survive the ordeal. But that wasn’t all of it. As Neil stared up up at Andrew, here at the other side of it all, he could admit to himself that he was glad for the punishment.

“Because… because I was going to kill you to save my own life and I had never hated myself for anything more than that.”

“I hate you,” Andrew spat.

“As long as you’re alive to hate me it’s fine.”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me more about the take down.”

“No.”

“Is your brother a Fox? Do I have to be killed for knowing that?”

“You have to be killed because you won’t shut your mouth.”

A good stretch of time. That’s how long Neil had been worming his way to be Andrew’s whatever. And in all that time he’d never felt safer. He lifted a shaky hand and waited. It took nearly a minute before Andrew released his hair and took the hand up in his own.

He didn’t apologize for trying to kill him. He didn’t apologize for coming into his life under false pretenses. If Andrew was there now, he trusted Neil enough to understand. They could talk about it later.

“Go back to sleep,” Andrew ordered quietly.

“So I’ll shut up?” Neil whispered back. His eyes were already drifting closed.

“Sure.”

[otdiaftg]

The Raven King - Chapter Two

Day: Wednesday, August 30th Time: 8:30 PM EST *Art used with permission by @ouijacine

"Why didn't Aaron know he had a brother?" Nicky winced, but Neil didn't know what bothered him more: the question or the rough edge in Matt's voice. "They're twins," Nicky said. He waited for them to catch on, looked from one blank face to another, and frowned disbelief. "Think about it for a sec, would you? Imagine you're my Aunt Tilda. How eager would you be to tell Aaron you gave up his brother at birth? She hoped that secret would stay buried forever." "But Aaron found out," Neil said. Nicky flashed Neil a tight-lipped smile. "Yeah, and that's why I believe in fate. See, Aaron was born and raised in San Jose. Apparently Aunt Tilda got bored of dating locally and started going to online matching sites. Right after Aaron turned thirteen Aunt Tilda hooked up with this new guy up in Oakland. Her boyfriend thought they should meet at a Raiders game, something nice and public and fun, so she stuffed Aaron in the car and off they went. Aaron said he was at the concession stand when this cop walked up, calling him Andrew and talking like they knew each other. Aaron thought he was either crazy or confused, but it didn't take the cop long to figure out something was wrong." "Higgins," Matt guessed. "Yeah. Soon as Higgins figured out he had the wrong brother he made Aaron take him back to where Aunt Tilda was. See, Higgins thought Aunt Tilda was another foster mother and that Aaron and Andrew had somehow gotten split up in the system. Higgins wanted to reunite them, so Aunt Tilda gave him her phone number to pass along and took Aaron home again. I don't know why she bothered. Maybe she was too embarrassed to say no or didn't want to explain to a cop what was going on. Either way, Andrew's foster mother called the next day to set up a meet-and-greet, and Aunt Tilda refused. She told the fosters she didn't want anything to do with Andrew, didn't want to know what he was like or how he was doing, nothing. She even made them promise to not contact her ever again." Nicky finished his second drink and mixed a third. "But Aaron knew who was calling, and he was too excited to wait on his mom to hang up to find out the details. As soon as she picked up in the kitchen, he ran to her bedroom and listened in on the upstairs phone. That's how he found out the truth." Nicky looked down at his drink. "Aaron said it was the worst day of his life."

"Jesus," Matt said. "I don't blame him. Did he tell her he'd heard her?" "Oh, yeah. Aaron said they had it out. But Aunt Tilda wouldn't budge, so Aaron went behind her back and called the Oakland PD. He found the PAL coordinators and gave them his information to give to Andrew. Two weeks later he got a letter in the mail that basically said 'Fuck you, go away'." Matt rubbed at his temples. "Yeah, that sounds like Andrew." "Some things never change," Nicky said. "So how'd Aaron change Andrew's mind?" Dan asked. Nicky gave her an odd look. "He didn't." "Wait," Dan said. "What do you mean, he didn't?" "I mean he didn't try again. I don't know who told Andrew's foster parents about Aaron, if it was Andrew or this Phil guy, but Andrew's foster mom wrote Aaron a letter. She wanted Aaron to try again in spring and said something about holidays being rough and there being a lot of changes at the house. So Aaron waited, but he waited too long. In March Andrew went off to juvie, and Aaron started rethinking this brother thing. Two months later Aunt Tilda sold the house in San Jose and moved Aaron to Columbia." Dan looked bewildered. "Then when did they meet?" "Dad found out about Andrew five years ago, so..." Nicky counted time on his fingers. "Four and a half years ago, give or take a bit. Dad went to California to interview Andrew's foster family and stop by juvie. A month later he flew Aaron out so Aaron and Andrew could talk, but I don't count that half-hour supervised session as a first meeting. They met for real when Andrew made early parole a year later and Dad bullied Aunt Tilda into bringing Andrew home." Nicky nursed his drink for a bit. "Weird when you think about it, right? They've only really known each other for three years." "That's messed up," Matt said. "Yeah, and that's the nice version of the story," Nicky said. "Anyway, that's how Aaron and Andrew know Higgins. I don't know why he's calling Andrew now, but I'm not going to ask. I kind of view Andrew's foster life as an off-limits topic. I don't bring it up until he does." "Is that really okay?" Dan asked. "It didn't sound like a 'Long time no see' kind of phone call. What if someone's dug up some past crime of his that could get him taken off our court? Maybe Phil was calling to warn him about an investigation." "Andrew will take care of it," Nicky said. "That's not comforting," Dan said, but she let it drop.

Art used with permission by Ouijacine.