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midnightsnyx · 4 years ago

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Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 5

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child.

a/n: surprise!!! it’s part 5!! i wont be home sunday so i wanted to post this today. i’m really iffy on this part because i wrote and rewrote a lot of the scenes because i wasn’t happy with it and i’m still not 100% happy with it but if i keep picking it over i’ll end up deleting the entire thing and rewriting it from scratch

but yeah i hope u guys like it & thanks again sooooo much for the love on this story <3 you guys rock.

word count: 2.6K

warnings: swearing, angst w/ a lil fluff again and bad editing lol

ALSO the first part in italics is a flashback to before Matt missed the appointment!

Part 5

“You’ve gotta stop moping, man.” Noah said, bumping his shoulder against Matt’s during morning practice.

Matt knew he was moping but he couldn’t get you out of his head and it was driving him nuts. He was attracted to you the moment you met even though you hated him, but lately something was different. He wasn’t sure if it’s from seeing you carry his child but the past couple months, you were all he could think about.

And it drove him insane.

“I’m not.” He mumbled, attempting to deny his teammates statement. Noah didn’t buy it though, because he grinned.

“You, me, and drinks?” He pointed at Matt. “Tonight at 9. We’re getting you laid.”

Matt forced a smile and nodded, knowing that Noah wouldn’t leave him alone until he agreed.

“The ultrasound is in the morning though so I can’t stay out late.” Matt reminded him.

“We’ll have you back in time for the appointment.” Noah promised and Matt believed him which was why the hurt on your face the next morning broke him.

. . .

21 weeks

“Noah Hanifin is at your front door.” Becca says, looking through the peephole before turning to look at you. Piled under a mountain of blankets with tissues surrounding you and an empty tub of ice cream sitting on the coffee table, you‘re the perfect picture of a broken heart.

You have been dodging calls and texts from Matthew for the past two weeks but in the last couple days, he’s been radio silent and you’re not sure if it hurts more, or less.

“Tell Noah Hanifin to fuck off.” You mutter, trying to dig yourself deeper in the pile of blankets. You know why Noah is here and it pisses you off.

Becca opens the door a little and you can see Noah standing there, holding a bag and looking uncomfortable.

“Can I help you with something?” Becca asks shortly and Noah sighs.

“Good to see you too, Becs.”

Becca’s shoulders tighten and you know without seeing her face that she is glaring at him. “What do you want, Hanifin?”

He hands her the bag he was holding. “This is for Y/N. It’s from Matt. He says he’s sorry.” Then he looks at you. “He’s in bad shape.”

You know he’s in bad shape because even though you’re hurt and angry, you’ve been watching his games. He’s being careless, taking stupid penalties, picking fights more than normal and you know he hasn’t been getting much sleep because there are bags under his eyes.

So you don’t need Noah Fucking Hanifin to tell you that Matthew’s in bad shape.

“That’s not my problem.”

“Oh come on, Y/N.” Noah says a little too harshly for your liking. “He fucked up, he knows that. Cut him some slack, he’s twenty two and he’s about to be a fucking father. He’s scared!”

“And I’m about to be a mother!” You snap. “He doesn’t think I’m scared?”

Noah groans in frustration. “Look. It was my fault, okay? I talked Matt in to going out that night because I wanted him to stop moping over you.”

You try to ignore his comment about Matt moping over you but your voice is unsteady when you answer him.

“Matt is a big boy, Noah. He can make his own decisions and he made the wrong one.” You watch Noah’s face fall. “Stop trying to stick up for him.”

Noah shakes his head and sighs. “You should cut him some slack. It was my fault.”

You watch as he leaves without saying another word. When he’s gone and Becca shuts the door behind him, she turns to face you.

“He doesn’t deserve forgiveness just because Hanifin ‘talked’ him in to going out and getting drunk. He made that choice.”

You slowly nod, watching as she walks to your kitchen preparing to throw the bag Noah dropped off in the garbage. You’re not sure what prompts you to stop her but you call out before she throws it out.

“Wait.”

She looks at you with a raised brow. “What?”

“Let me see what he brought.”

You know she’s pissed, but she brings it over and hands it to you.

“I’m going to go get ready for bed, okay?” She says and you nod, watching as she walks down the hallway. When she’s out of sight, you peak in the bag.

The first thing you see is a chocolate bar. It’s your favourite, and you’re surprised he remembered. There’s some candy and a box of popcorn and your lips turn up in a tiny smile when you pull out a movie.

It’s What to Expect When You’re Expecting, the movie you were very against watching because of how unrealistic it would be compared to actual childbirth. There’s a little sticky note that says, you should watch this even though it’s totally not accurate.

Then, at the very bottom of the bag, there’s a bigger note and you want to ignore it like you’ve done with every text he’s sent you but you read it out of curiosity.

Y/N,

I know that I can’t make up for missing the appointment and I know there’s nothing I can say to make it better so all I’m going to do is say sorry. I am so, so sorry and I know I keep saying that and they are only words but it’s all I can think of to say.

So I’m sorry and I hope that you can forgive me soon because I miss you and I want to be there for you without having to ask my mom for updates on how you are. Please call me, or even text me. I just want to know how you’re doing.

Matt

You’re sniffling by the time you’ve read the note but when you hear Becca approaching, you wipe away the tears and shove the paper back in the bag.

“What did he give you?” She questions, sitting on the couch next to you.

You don’t want to tell her about the note so you just shrug. “A movie.”

“That’s all?”

“Yeah.” You lie. “Will you watch it with me?”

“Sure.” She says, taking the movie from you and putting it in to the DVD player before returning to the couch and curling up on the opposite side of the couch.

You try to focus on the movie but you can’t get Matt’s note and Noah’s words out of your head. You’re confused from what Noah said about Matthew ‘moping’ over you. The two of you were friends and you used that term loosely. If it wasn’t for the baby, you know you never wouldn’t have gotten so close to him. You never would have gotten to know the side of him that the rest of the world has never seen. You wouldn’t have learned how terrible he is at cooking but how gentle he can be.

But you also wouldn’t be in this situation right now. By yourself and pregnant with a broken heart.

So you’re not sure what hurts more. The thought of never having known him the way you do or having your heart broken.

. . .

22 weeks

Johnny: I’m really sorry to bother you but can you please come pick Matt up? He’s in bad shape and he won’t go home unless its to you.

It’s this text that has you standing outside a bar that Matt and the guys are. For Johnny to text you, you know that it must be bad and you’re proven right when the doors open and Noah and Johnny carry an extremely wasted Matthew Tkachuk out. You’re not sure he’s even awake until he lifts his head when Noah shakes him.

“Y/N’s here, bud.”

His eyes are closed but they open when he hears your name and his face lights up and he shrugs the boys off, stumbling towards you. He’s unsteady so you reach out to steady him, grateful when he doesn’t put much weight on you.

“You’re here.” He breathes and you nod slowly.

“And you’re drunk.”

He shakes his head quickly. “No, I’m sober as a judge!”

You hear Noah chuckle but you don’t react to him, pulling Matt’s arm around your shoulder.

“C’mon. Lets go home.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Noah calls out and you’re still pissed at him so you don’t bother looking back.

“Yeah.”

You get Matt in your car without a problem and when you start the drive back to your apartment, you try to ignore how he’s staring at you but it feels like he’s burning holes in the side of your head.

“What?” You mutter eventually and you see him shrug out of the corner of your eye.

“’m surprised you came to pick me up. I know you hate me.” He mumbles and you sigh.

“I don’t hate you.” You tell him, “I was angry with you. And I had every right to be.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispers quietly and when you glance at him, he’s no longer looking at you. He is staring at his hands and you notice the cuts from the fight he got in to at today’s game. It was a heavy loss and had a lot to do with how many penalties Matt took. They were dumb penalties, all of which he never would have taken if his head was in the game. You know it’s not entirely your fault but you still can’t help but feel a little guilty because you know he’s playing like this because you haven’t been talking to him.

“I know.” You say, pulling in to the parking lot of your apartment building. You could have very well dropped Matt off at his house but you know he’s too drunk and leaving him by himself could be dangerous.

He’s sobered up a little by the time you’re in your apartment. You make him drink a couple glasses of water before guiding him to your bathroom so he can brush his teeth with his toothbrush he keeps at your apartment and when you give him clothes that he keeps here too, you realize how much time he really spent here.

“I can sleep on the couch.” He says and everything in you is screaming to agree but he just looks so tired and you know he won’t get a wink of sleep on that couch so you shake your head.

“It’s fine.” you say, ignoring the small look of hope on his face, instead sending him out of the bathroom so you can get ready. You take your time, hoping that he will be asleep when you go to your bedroom but you find him laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t look at your face when you settle on the bed next to him but you do notice his eyes flicker to your stomach before you pull the blanket over you.

“It’s bigger.” He says.

“What?”

“Your stomach.” He clarifies. “It’s getting bigger.”

“Well that’s what happens when you’re growing a human being inside you.” You remind him and his lips turn up in a small smile.

“Y/N-” He starts to say but you cut him off.

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

He looks disappointed but he’s still drunk enough that you’re not comfortable having the conversation the two of you need to have. There are things that need to be worked out and said and you don’t want him to only remember half of it.

So you watch him nod and drift off before letting yourself fall asleep.

. . .

You wake the next morning before Matt. He snoring quietly and his back is to you which makes getting out of bed easier. He’ll be hungover for sure, so you decide to make breakfast while you wait for him to wake up. You’re also trying to think of what exactly you’re going to say to him.

You don’t know if you have it in you to still be so angry at him. He messed up and it’s not something you’ll ever forget but Noah made a good point when he said that Matt is only 23. You’re both still so young and about to be parents and despite wanting him to be perfect and never mess up, you can’t expect him to be.

“Hey.”

You turn to see Matt walking in to the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“Hey.” You reply, turning back to the stove. You can hear him sit down on a bar stool and he’s quiet for a moment before speaking up.

“Thank you.” He says softly and it surprises you because you were expecting him to say sorry again.

“You didn’t have to come pick me up last night but you did.”

You shrug, turning around to look at him. “I know you would’ve done the same.”

“I would.” He says. “And I know you’re tired of me saying it but I am really sorry I missed the appointment. I promised I would be there and I let you down.”

You nod, walking over and sitting next to him. “You did, but I’m starting to think that I was too hard on you. You made a mistake, we all do.”

“I swear I’ll never miss one again.” He promises.

“Good, because I’ll shun you if you do.” You chirp and he grins.

After breakfast, the two of you are watching hockey replays and Matt is quietly talking to the baby. You can’t hear exactly what he’s saying but suddenly he looks up and grins.

“Can we tell everyone now? I thought we could make up an Instagram post or something.”

“I may already have one prepared.” You admit sheepishly and his smile lights up the room.

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nicb0723 · 4 years ago

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Find Your Worth

John Wick x Reader

Summary: You meet John in an unconventional way.

Notes: Depression trigger warning

Word Count: 11,754

Read Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Before work you go grocery shopping and run some errands. You clean up a lot and wonder how the hell John’s personality will fit in your tiny apartment. He doesn’t say much but he can be so intense. You can’t imagine the two of you together, alone, in this tiny space.

In the bathroom you hesitate as you pick up your prescription. The doctor thought it would take the edge off your anxiety, and make the depression manageable. She also made sure you were seeing someone for therapy. For now, the pill once a day does work. You can breathe. You can function. You’d be a fool to think all of your problems would disappear overnight. You still have a long road of recovery ahead, but this makes it less overwhelming. You place the little plastic container in the medicine cabinet, somewhere John won’t see it. You wouldn’t put it past him if he snooped, but in a way you're proud that you were able to talk about your problems and get some help.

At work Sam is with you and currently making fun of your limp after you tell him why there’s a bruise on your foot. He’s asking if you want him to go buy you a cane when John waltzes in, hair slicked back and suit jacket blowing from the wind. How someone can look like a model in a gas station you’ll never know. He stares until you go to him and ask what the hell he’s doing here.

“Getting gas.” He answers and reaches for his wallet.

You don’t say anything and ring him up, glancing outside to his car parked in spot one.

Sam is watching you two interact and he has the biggest grin on his face. Is that your boyfriend? He mouths behind John’s back and you cough in shock. No, and yeah right, like you could ever get a guy like John in a million years.

“Hello!” Sam says loudly and teasingly bumps your hip with his behind the counter.

John raises an eyebrow and glances to you first, then nods to Sam. “Hi.”

“John, this is Sam my co-worker and Sam, this is John my um… friend?”

True surprise flickers in John’s brown eyes and he looks pleased, a slow small smile spreads on his lips.

“She’s actually my boss, but nice to meet you.” Sam says and his attention is drawn to the classic car outside and the gushing begins.

You let the two of them talk until you hear John offer to show him the engine and they both move to go outside. “Hey, I’ll see you later?”

Sam smirks and you nod at John, wondering how he knows where you live. It’s a little weird that he broke into your place just to fix a leaking faucet and he was in your apartment without you even knowing. In the back of your mind, you think that it’s actually pretty thoughtful. You mindlessly wonder why he would waste his time though. Why he would do any of the things that he did. He said that he would help anyone in the same situation as you, but you’ve been thinking about that question since the day at the lake, and you’re too scared to ask him. You’re scared to see the look on his face, the look of pity because that’s all you can think that he’ll say.

You hear John’s car peel away and Sam comes back inside, still grinning like an idiot.

“What?” You ask, not really wanting to know.

“Nothing.” Sam hops up on the counter and he knows he’s not supposed to sit there. “I think he likes you.”

“And what makes you say that.” You deadpan, pushing at his butt with the tip of your pen.

Sam slides down and knocks over a display of gum. “He told me to look out for you.”

“Oh yeah? I can see you’d be very threatening.” You point to the packs of gum all over the floor.

He bends down and starts to pick up the mess. “What’d you need looking out for anyway?”

“Nothing, he's just being protective I guess.”

Sam looks at you with concern. “From what?”

“Nothing. I promise, okay?”

For the rest of the night Sam shows you his karate moves and chops up air until closing time.

John is folded up in the corner of your couch with his legs crossed at the knees and his black leather shoe tapping your coffee table. He’s reading one of the old magazines you have laying around.

“How was work?” He asks, folding the magazine shut, like this is the most normal thing in the world.

You check the locks on your door to see if they’re broken, but they’re not. You turn the handle again to make sure the door is shut all the way.

“I should probably give you a key if you’re going to let yourself in.”

John shrugs. “If you want.”

Tossing your purse on the kitchen table you make your way to the living room and sit on the chair across from the couch. John looks so out of place, but you can tell he’s trying to blend in, make himself belong in your little apartment.

“Who’s taking care of your dog while you’re here?” You ask, kicking your feet up.

“Pooch? The little girl next door. She loves him.”

You let out a surprised laugh. “Don’t tell me you actually named him Pooch. I don’t even think that’s an actual word, I think my grandma made it up.”

John shrugs again you can tell he’s definitely not a man to waste any words. “It stuck. It’s... cute.”

“Cute? I can’t see you thinking anything is cute.” You grin and stand up to take your jacket and shoes off to get more comfortable. You can hear him mutter something under his breath, but can’t catch it. “So do we know if Max is officially out yet?”

“No, I’m waiting for the call though. I’ll know as soon as it happens.”

You don’t have any doubt. “Do you want something to eat or drink?” You open the refrigerator for some juice. ”I usually have a snack when I get home. Feel free to take anything you want.”

John tries to settle back on the couch but he seems stiff. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“You can take off your tie and your jacket at least. You’ll probably be here for awhile.” You call out to him, your head sticking in the cupboard looking for the popcorn you put in there earlier.

John doesn’t move and you gesture for him to get up as you crawl back in your chair with a bag of food.

“You sure about that?”

“Yes of course I’m sure. Why would I not be sure?” You look at him like he’s crazy as he slowly stands and oh… that’s why.

The suit jacket comes off and he carefully lays it over the side table. His slender waist is circled with a large utility belt with three guns, two clips, and probably a knife. The sight makes your eyes widen. He stares at you as he slowly unfastens the buckle and gently places it on top of his jacket.

“Don’t go near that.” He points sternly and sits back down, this time more comfortable. He takes his cell phone out of his pocket and sets it on the couch next to him.

“Definitely not. Are you planning on using any of that?”

“Scare tactic.”

Silence fills the room as you crunch on your popcorn and you’re actually feeling pretty tired. You’d like to go to bed, but you’re not sure what John’s plans are exactly.

“So how is this going to happen?” You ask. “Are you going to come to work with me too? Are you going to run my errands with me? I mean, I’d love the company but I don’t see you wandering around Target for an hour.”

“I don’t mind going to Target with you.” His voice is so serious you can’t help but smile. “I don’t think he’ll come around during the day though. He wants you alone. Scared. Vulnerable. And I have my cop friend keeping an eye on you at work. It’s on his beat anyway.”

“Okay.” That all sounds reasonable. Dread and doubt suddenly take hold of you. “Look, maybe I’m wrong? Maybe he won’t bother with me and we can just forget about it? Maybe there’s nothing to worry about at all.”

John shakes his head. “I read his record. It’s not good.”

Well, crap. You don’t want to talk about Max anymore and you don’t want to ask the one question that’s been hounding your mind. You’re still too scared to know the reason John is here, so you ask something else. “Are you ever going to sleep? You can’t stay up all night waiting.”

“I’ll sleep until I know he’s out.” John says easily. “Then after that I have motion detection alerts on my phone from the camera outside your floor.”

You blink at him. “There are cameras on the door of the elevator?”

“There are now.”

“How’d that happen?” You’ve never noticed any security cameras anywhere.

“I talked to Francis, the apartment manager. He’s a nice guy.”

You blink at him again. “I know, but he only speaks Russian. How’d you talk to him?”

John smirks and says, “Bez truda.”

It’s all a little too much and you get up, shaking your head in disbelief. “How is this my life right now? How do I get myself into these things? I have an assassin in my apartment… I’m going to take a shower!” You announce after a minor anxiety attack. “Feel free to turn on the TV, get comfortable, whatever you want.”

The water feels good as you scrub away the day. It relaxes you until swarming thoughts of John sitting on your couch make you hurry out of the tub and wrap yourself in the flannel bathrobe you always wear. Before you lose your nerve you walk back into the living room and find John where you left him, now looking at his phone.

“They’re just starting to process paperwork. That means it’ll be a few hours.” John’s talking, but doesn’t look up. You start to brush your wet hair out and twist it loosely on top of your head for the night. Usually you’d smear face cream all over but that obviously is not going to happen.

“Look, John. I know we hardly know each other, but you can sleep in the bed, okay?” You start to turn off the kitchen lights and check the front door one more time to make sure it’s locked. “It’s plenty big enough and I would just feel better.”

He’s looking at you with warm eyes now, his mouth open but nothing is coming out. It’s like his brain turned a switch and decided something important. Whatever he’s thinking must be big because his whole demeanor changes. You can’t quite figure it out, but he seems content to be here with you, where just a few moments ago he had a guard up and was struggling with something on his mind. Somehow and unknowingly, you sense that you’ve just started to break down his wall. You have no idea what you did, you’re just being yourself, but for the first time John is vulnerable. He’s blinking slowly, as if he’s seeing you for the first time in a new light, or finally giving himself permission to really see you.

It doesn’t matter though, because you know you look like a complete dork in your bathrobe and suddenly you feel incredibly stupid. Shame floods your stomach and you almost feel sick. Of course, this man wouldn’t want to be in the same bed as you. He’d probably rather die. You can’t believe you even suggested it. Also, your therapist would be terribly disappointed in you for talking down to yourself like this.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

He stands up and grabs a small leather bag you hadn’t seen by the widow. “Yes. If it’ll make you feel safer.”

No. No. That’s not how you wanted it to happen. You wanted John to want to sleep in the bed, not because you asked him. “Listen, I didn’t mean… I’ll take the couch, okay? You probably don’t want to share the bed with me, I totally understand. And you’re doing me a favor and I just want you to be comfortable.”

Utter confusion crosses his handsome face. He scratches at his beard with long fingers, trying to make sense of what you want. “What good would that do? With you sleeping on the couch?”

You stammer and can feel a flush develop on your cheeks. “I just thought… I don’t know.”

“If you rather, I can book you a room in a hotel for a few nights. I won’t… do anything to you. I can promise you that.”

Oh God. This conversation could not get any worse. You’re horrified that he thinks something like that and you try terribly to explain. “No, no that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to go to a hotel. I just meant that um, you probably don’t want to share a bed with someone like me.”

“Someone like you?”

The flush is creeping up to your neck as you become more embarrassed. You point at your bathrobe and general dorkiness. “Yeah, like someone… not… exactly… uh… cute?”

He seems to realize what you’re trying to say and laughs a little. “Well it’s a good thing there’s no one not cute in this apartment. I don’t know how I could ever sleep.” He walks towards you and gently tucks the hair that had fallen in your eyes behind your ears. It’s very intimate and you feel yourself start to smile. “Can we go to bed now?” He moves his arm out for you to lead the way and you feel silly. John is a nice guy. Even if he really didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as you, he probably still would because it’s what you wanted.

“Yeah, sorry.” You mumble and walk into the bedroom with him following. There’s not much clutter and it’s pretty bare besides the newly bought self help books on the nightstand and regular girly stuff littered on the dresser. John throws his bag on the floor and you grab some pajamas for yourself, heading to the bathroom to change.

When you come back John is wearing a white t-shirt and soft blue sleep pants. He’s incredibly adorable and you can’t believe your luck of having him in your room right now. He must’ve grabbed his phone and weapons because they’re both on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

He looks you up and down in your tank top and shorts as you plop on the mattress, quickly getting under the covers.

“This okay?” He asks and points to his own clothes. Was he expecting for you to want him to sleep in his suit?

“Yeah of course. But... can you fight in pajamas?” You wrinkle your nose and tease him. “That’s not very assassin-y.”

He barks out a laugh and lays down, but he doesn’t get under the sheets. His feet are bare and long, and you keep peeking at his toes. “I think it’ll be fine.”

You roll over and face him. He’s looking up at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head.

“I can’t believe you’re here right now.”

He doesn’t move. “Why?”

Your eyes start to become heavy and you watch his chest move up and down in slow rhythmic breaths. “People don’t usually do nice things for me. I’m used to being on my own.”

With that he shifts on his side, towards you. His hair falls in his eyes and you long to brush it away. “I can tell.”

“I don’t like asking for help.”

“You never asked me for anything.” John points out. There’s plenty of space between the both of you and flop your arm towards his side, pointing at him teasingly.

“Oh, I distinctly remember asking you to do one very specific thing and you failed.”

He squirms from the quick stabs of your pointer finger at his ribs. “I don’t know, I think things turned out pretty perfect.”

You scoff and roll to your stomach now, sliding your arms under the pillow. “Perfect? Yeah right, I’m sure this is the last place you want to be.”

“It is perfect. This bed is very comfortable.” John finally gets under the blankets and you giggle sleepily. His cologne is stirred by his movement and you savor the spicy smell.

“It’s new. I got a raise at work. I’m an assistant manager now.” You tell him proudly, even though you know it’s not that big of an accomplishment.

“Oh excuse me, Miss Assistant Manager.” John smiles and acts extremely impressed. “Congratulations, by the way. I should take you out to celebrate.”

You have no idea if he’s serious or not so you just laugh and snuggle down more into the bed. After a minute you ask, “Do you think Max will come tonight?”

John pauses, thinking. “Hard to say. He doesn’t have a good past. He has friends in high places who will probably help him. How’d you meet a guy like that anyway?”

“How is that you know my name, where I live, my phone number, where I work, what car I drive… literally everything about me and you don’t know that?”

John brushes the hair from his eyes and you can see the tan line around his ring finger has started to finally fade. “That’s just part of the job.”

“Fixing leaking water faucets is part of being an assassin?” You ask, teasing again.

A sweet pink flush spreads on John’s cheeks. “Shush.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He pretends to glare. “Maybe it is. You don’t know.”

“You’re right, I don’t know.” You yawn and let your eyes fall close. “Can I tell you tomorrow though? I’m gonna pass out.”

You hear the click of the side lamp turn off and you want to stay awake, to soak in this moment a little more but sleep is overpowering and you drift off into a peaceful rest.

Until about two o’clock in the morning, and then you start to toss and turn. You swear there’s a noise out in the living room but you also know you’re probably being paranoid. You can see the shape of John’s body just a few inches away and you want to reach over to him.

“Hey.” He whispers and his voice startles you still. “Are you okay?”

“No.” You sit up a little and look towards your bedroom door. There’s a stream of light from the street lamps coming in through the window, but other than that it’s dark. “I thought I heard something.”

“It was just the air kicking on. You’re fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You feel John’s palm rest on your arm and squeeze. “Positive.”

“Is he out? Did you get a text or anything?”

“Hey, don’t worry about anything, okay? I promise you’re safe.”

You fall back on the bed with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

You're wide awake and this whole situation is baffling. John Wick is in your bed, squeezing your arm and comforting you.

“Isn’t being an assassin illegal?” You blurt out, the darkness giving you courage, and you instantly regret asking the question because he pulls away.

“It’s the only thing I’m good at.” He says quietly. “Trust me, I tried to retire and I got sucked back in somehow. People seem to want only me for really hard jobs.”

“Couldn’t you get arrested or something if you got caught? Could I get in trouble with you being here?”

“No. Sometimes cops need bad guys to go away too. You won’t get in trouble.”

“Oh.”

“Feel better now?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I just don’t always get myself into the best situations. I feel really safe with you, I just…” You don’t meet an assassin everyday. You have no idea what it really means.

“It’s fine.”

“I don’t want to offend you.”

He laughs softly and his fingers brush the back of your arm now. “Nothing you ever ask will offend me. It’s actually quite refreshing. I just hope…”

You wait for him to finish, but he seems to be gathering his thoughts and you don’t want to rush him.

“I hope you can think of me as a friend before an assassin. And I hope that I don’t scare you.”

“I don’t scare easily.” You mumble and yawn, glancing back to your bedroom door. You ignore the friend comment because you feel like you’ve already been through hell and back. You don’t know if you could consider John as a friend and then lose him someday. It might break you all over again. But then you think of how far you’ve come. “I could probably take Max. I could get him to leave me alone now that I have my mind straight.”

“You think so?” John is sincere and you can hear he’s happy at your mental growth.

“Yeah maybe. As long as he’s clean and not hopped up on something. Then it might be harder.”

“I guess we’ll see.” John checks his phone and puts it down again after looking briefly at it. “Are you going to be able to get back to sleep?”

“Yes. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“Stop apologizing.” He shifts to his side, with his back to you.

It’s a strong, solid back with his shoulder blades poking out from underneath his t-shirt. You stare until your eyes feel heavy again. You feel safe.

The next time you wake up the sun is blaring from the window and John is gone. His leather bag is still by the bed though, but his suit jacket and all of his guns are gone too.

You start to go about your business, not believing John would leave you alone if you were in any kind of danger. It’s almost creepy how your phone alerts a few seconds later with a text, like he knows that you’re up.

No need to worry. I know where he is. I’ll see you later tonight. Let me know if anything happens.

You text back sounds good and John tells you to have a nice day.

It just so happens that you have the next two days off from work and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your foot still hurts from the baseball bat incident so you zone out in front of the TV for a while, trying to forget all of your problems. That doesn’t really work so the next best thing is to venture through the kitchen. You have snacks but not much else. Maybe it would be nice if you could fix John a nice dinner or something, for hanging out with you and like, protecting you from a shitty ex boyfriend.

Some nice meat might do the trick. A nice steak with a potato and veggies. One thing grandma did that was awesome? Was to teach you how to cook. Wanting to actually cook was a different story for the last few years, the thought making you ill when you were practically a walking zombie, but now the thought excites you. It’s also different to cook for someone than just yourself because it’s usually not worth all the hassle.

Quickly, you get dressed and head out to the nearby grocery store. It's quiet and you take your time walking down the aisles with your cart, wondering what sorts of things John likes to eat. He probably stays healthy but a part of you thinks that he might have a sweet tooth. You grab everything you need, including some pie for dessert and head back home to get started.

There’s a ton of food so you text John to come over hungry and don’t eat any dinner.

He doesn’t reply back immediately and your stomach starts to sink. What if this is too much? Is this weird? It’s just dinner, right? Friends have dinner together. John has to eat sometime.

He eventually texts back a simple okay and you take it for what it is. There’s nothing you can do about it now, and since you’ve never really cooked in this kitchen before, if it turns out terrible you can always order pizza.

It doesn’t turn out terrible, in your opinion, and you’re actually impressed with yourself. There’s a knock on the door right when you're finishing setting the table and John scolds you for not asking who it was before opening the door. He’s still in the middle of his speech when he gets a whiff of steak and sees that the table is set nicely.

“What’s all this?” He asks, smoothing down his expensive silk tie.

You pull out a chair for him to sit down. “It’s just a little thank you.”

He doesn’t look happy with that answer.

“It’s me making my friend dinner… randomly?” You try again.

He laughs and nods, accepting that instead and removes his suit jacket, draping it over the back of his chair. “Do you mind if I…” He points to his waist and waits for you to nod before unclipping the belt, putting it in the bedroom for the night.

“Wine? Beer?” You ask, debating which you want.

“Usually I would, but…”

You understand that he’s working, even though he’d hate it if you said it aloud, and put them both away. “How about some ice tea?”

“Sure.” John sits and folds a napkin in his lap. He’s watching you and when you bring over a plate full of food there’s an unmistaken gasp. “Wow, this is amazing. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” You sit down too and pass him the salt and pepper. “I forgot how much fun it is to cook. I haven’t made anything since grandma was sick and I stopped eating. But today it was like she was in the kitchen with me.” You stop and close your eyes, embarrassed. “Sorry, that was weird to say.”

“Not the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He reminds you hesitantly, but with a small smile.

Heat warms your cheeks and you have to chuckle in agreement. “True. I feel like that was so long ago though. I’m like a different person now. You must’ve thought I was crazy.” You don’t say that you’re grateful you accidentally gave your phone number to a police informant. That it was John who showed up that day. That it wasn’t some crook who could’ve used a few hundred dollars.

“I didn’t think you were crazy.” John takes a big bite of steak and moans a little. “This is really good. I haven’t had a home cooked meal in a long time.”

“You don’t cook much?” You ask, waiting for him to make another noise of pleasure.

“I hate cooking for just myself.” He says, but otherwise he is disappointingly quiet.

You take a bite of vegetables and nod in agreement, trying to hide your swelling of excitement. Well, that’s that. He is single. No big deal, you tell yourself to calm the hell down in your head. It doesn't matter anyway. It’s not like anything would ever happen. “So, you didn’t think I was crazy? What did you think?”

John puts down his fork and looks at you, his chin resting on his hand thoughtfully. “I thought you looked really tired. That you needed help and had nowhere else to turn.”

You gently rub a finger under your eye, where you know there used to be darkened circles. Now your eyes are bright and alive. You blush at his observation.

“What’d you think when you saw me?” He asks, interested again in his steak but keeping an attentive ear to everything you say.

You don’t know why, but you feel a surge of confidence. “I thought I was talking to the most attractive hitman in all of New York and that there was no way I could afford your... business.”

John raises an eyebrow and laughs. “Really?”

Shrugging, you take another bite of food and swallow. “I don’t know what I was really thinking, honestly. It was not my best day. I just wanted to get the conversation over with. I wasn’t in the right mindset.”

“But therapy is going well?”

You’re not surprised that he knew about that, but it does make you pause that he actually asked. “Definitely. It’s going very well. And she’s a fan of you, by the way.”

“Me?”

“Don’t worry, she thinks you're an undercover cop.”

John leans over his plate, trying to get closer to you. “What exactly do you say about me?”

“That’s personal!”

“Fine.” He leans back now in his chair and crosses his arms, fake disappointment in a pout on his lips. “Then I won’t tell you about what I found out today.”

You glare at him. “Isn’t that blackmail?”

“Or extortion.” He shrugs, waiting for you to answer.

“Ugh.” You roll your eyes and sigh. “I told her about all of the nice stuff you did for me, even though it was creepy, and how you probably saved my life.”

He blinks at that, obviously not expecting you to be so forward. “Oh. And what did she say?”

“She said to be careful about you breaking into my place and stealing my car… but that it sounded like I made a really good friend.”

John is suddenly silent and tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear. His voice is quiet when he finally speaks. “Just… just a friend?”

Your stomach does a little flip and you’re not sure where he’s going with this. “I’m pretty sure all I can have is friends right now.” You tell him slowly, trying to get all of your words exactly right. “I need to find my worth, be happy with myself… before I can do that for someone else, you know?”

John nods and his eyes are sad for a brief second but when he looks up at you, he’s proud. “I think that’s great. And I’m happy to help remind you that you’re pretty awesome.”

“Reminders are nice.” You tell him with a small smile. “Especially considering they come from a bad ass assassin.”

John chuckles and finishes his steak. He loosens his tie and unbuttons the top button of his dress shirt. He looks a little tired and you wonder what he did all day.

“So what were you going to tell me?”

“Oh, right. Max. He seems to be doing well. He’s living with his mom across town and he was spotted going into an AA meeting.”

You’re stunned. In a good way. “Really? He was always such a heavy drinker. That’s where I met him. At the bar across the street from the hospital. When visiting hours were over and I didn’t have to work, I’d go there a lot. And well, I guess he spotted a weak one.” You think back to those days when he was nice to you at first, which quickly changed into becoming manipulative and controlling. The final straw was when he said that you couldn’t visit your grandmother anymore. You lost it and he raised a hand at you, several times. You never want to be that weak. Ever again. “Well that’s good news, right?”

“Yeah.” John rubs at his beard. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t relapse.”

You stand up and start to clear the dishes from the table. “So you don’t have to stay the night, probably.”

“No, I’ll stay at least one more night. Just to be safe.”

You give him a disapproving look. You really hate to waste his time.

“Seriously, I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I wasn’t here. One more night and I’ll be out of your hair.”

That’s not at all what you meant by giving him a look so you just shake your head. “It’s nice to have the company. I just don’t think my apartment is where you want to spend your nights.”

“And where exactly do you think I spend my nights?”

The sink is full of soap and John stands to clear the rest of the plates and cups. “I picture this really fancy nightclub or rave with techno music and neon lights and beautiful women dancing around you.”

John hands over a plate and looks at you like you’re nuts. “You have a very vivid imagination.”

“Oh, like that’s never happened.” You deadpan.

“Well, I can’t say never... “ John leans against the counter and offers to help you.

“No, I got it but thank you. And also, I knew it. I just don’t see you like… dancing to techno music.” You make a face and stick out your tongue a little. You hate techno.

John laughs. “I don’t go there to dance. If I’m at a club or something it’s usually for work.”

“Ah, I see.” You move to get the dish rag to dry the silverware. “So, where do all the beautiful women throw themselves at you?”

He’s not really paying attention when he answers and he’s looking at something on the ground. “Well lately it’s been at a lake and a local gas station. Is that a bruise?” John bends down and slowly traces the swirls of black and blue colors on top of your foot. The touch stings a little but you hold still.

“Oh uh... “ God, how stupid. You didn’t think it was that noticeable. “Yeah.”

“Your whole foot is swollen.” His eyes are huge when he stands up and looks at you, his hands on his hips. “What happened?” He growls out and you push past him, considerably embarrassed and turned on all at once.

“I did it to myself, okay? It’s not a big deal.”

“You’re limping.” He exasperates, but he gently puts an arm around your waist and helps guide you to sit down. You put your foot on the coffee table and it does look worse than it did yesterday, puffy and colorful.

You grimince and don’t want to tell him. “It was just a silly accident. Sam at work already made fun of me, so let’s just forget it.”

John disappears to the kitchen and you can hear ice being gathered. He comes back and sits on the coffee table, slowly moving your foot to his lap and putting a towel full of ice by your toes, where the worst of the purples are blooming.

“You really don’t have to do that. It’s not that bad. I was just on my feet all day and I didn’t think about it. It’ll be back to normal by tomorrow.”

His fingers are so gentle around your ankle and you can’t help but to stare at his big hand surrounding your delicate bones. “Hey.” John taps on your skin until you look up at him. “You’re worth being taken care of, okay?”

Well, he got you there damnit. “Oh, that’s a good one.” You’re impressed and you let him hold your foot, sitting back to relax. Your therapist would be really pleased that you let someone help you.

“Are you going to tell me or are we going to sit here all night?”

You briefly tell him how you got the bruise and his fingers stop tracing over your skin long enough for him to laugh. Loudly.

“It’s not that funny.” You scowl at him.

“It’s really funny.” He’s snickering now and you swear there’s a tear at his eye. He moves to wipe it away and mumbles something like, “you are the cutest... “ and then clears his throat and straightens up. “You’ll have to show me your moves.”

“Uh, no, I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for tonight, thank you.”

John rubs at your ankle again, squeezing around your leg lightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be mean to the patient.”

“Exactly right.” You agree and smirk when you think of payback. “You gonna kiss it better?”

Without hesitation John takes off the towel and presses his lips to your cold skin. All you can do is stare at his beard and then at the teal nail polish on your toes. You’re speechless.

“It didn’t seem to work.” John says, disappointment in his voice. “I guess I’ll have to work on my technique.”

He says that last part suggestively and you sit up in the chair, ready to change the subject. “I got dessert. You like pie, right?”

“Do I like pie? What kind of question is that?”

“Can you get it?” You smile sweetly at him. “It’s on the counter.”

He gives you a knowing look but lifts your foot to get up. You can see his reflection in the window as he moves around in your kitchen and you watch him in disbelief. You realize you’ve never had anyone in your apartment. Not even grandma, she was already too sick when you got it. Max always made you go to his place. John comes back with one plate and two forks, a big slice for both of you to share.

“This is the best anyone has ever paid me to do a job.” He jokes and you smile back, taking a fork and scooping a bite for yourself.

You point to an envelope on your desk. “Speaking of getting paid… I know it’s not much, but I did promise you--”

“I was kidding.” John cuts you off. His face is instantly annoyed and hurt.

“John, please.” Your foot is still propped up on the coffee table and you can’t really move. “I just thought I’d offer.”

“Well, take it back.” He says and you put your hands up in defense, silently telling him not to be mad. “And you just lost pie privileges.”

“What?”

He stands up and walks over to the couch, as far away from you as possible. “Yeah that’s right. I’m eating all of this myself.”

You huff and struggle to sit up. “That is a radical punishment.”

“You need to learn your lesson.” He takes another big bite, making a show of it.

“That’s it.” You get up and hobble over to him, practically falling into his side and he lets out a grunt when you accidentally lean into his ribs. You decide to just lay where you are for now, you can’t move if you wanted to. “John, seriously. Pie please.”

He shakes his head with amusement and feeds you a small piece. You take it happily and let your head rest on his shoulder while he finishes and feeds you some more until it’s gone. Both of you are quiet. This is the closest you’ve ever been and you just want to feel his warmth. You know eventually you have to move so you peer up at him and smile. “You have blueberry on your lip.” You tell him, reaching to smudge it off with your thumb. At the same time he licks at it and you both laugh.

“C’mon, cripple. I’m helping you to bed.” He tells you, putting the plate and fork down on the coffee table. You use his thigh to get yourself up and he steadies your waist as you balance on one foot. You’re standing between his legs and he’s looking up at you with the sweetest eyes.

“Thank you for dinner.” His voice is sincere and determined to get his appreciation across.

You put your hands on his shoulders and lean some of your weight on him. “John… thank you. Thank you for everything.” And with that you let yourself drop down and you hug him hard. He pulls you close and rubs his hands over your back. His hair brushes your cheek and you breathe in deeply, his scent rushing to your head in the most pleasant high.

Awkwardly, you push yourself away and he grabs at your hands. “You want me to carry you to bed?”

You shoot him a glare and he laughs, letting you wobble towards your bedroom while he takes care of the dishes and turns out all the lights.

When he’s satisfied everything is in the right place, he walks into your bedroom and stands in the doorway, watching you while you sit on the bed and tie your hair up over your head for the night.

“What?”

John breaks his stare and walks around to the other side of the bed. “Nothing.”

“Do you want to watch TV or something?” You ask, grabbing the remote to the set up you have on your dresser. You tend to fall asleep to sitcoms rather than complete silence with thoughts running through your mind at full speed.

“Actually do you mind if I take a shower?” He asks. “I did a lot of running around.”

Your mouth goes dry and you try to get it together before he notices. “Did you get all sweaty tracking Max today?” You guess, smiling when he looks impressed that you got it right. “See, I could totally be an assassin!” Your smile fades when he points to your foot. “Okay, well I could be an assassin’s secretary. I could like, get all the payments and make appointments and travel arrangements and get your guns cleaned and all that stuff!”

He walks around to his bag and gathers a pair of clean sleep clothes. “And take care of all the dead bodies too?”

You gulp. That’s so disturbing. “Yep. And I could take you to the doctor if you get hurt real bad.” You think back to the bruised knuckles and the dried cut on his face.

He cocks his head to the side and thinks for a minute. “That does sound helpful.”

“Really?”

“Yes and also dangerous. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You stand from the bed to get him a towel. “Um, just to let you know, I’ve seen all the assassin movies.”

“Oh, so you’re an expert.”

Opening your closet, you pull out the softest towel you own. “That sounds very sarcastic.” You push it to John's stomach and he grabs it from you, but you don’t let go and tug it back gently. “I’ll have you know I’m a very quick study, Mr. Wick.”

John briefly closes his eyes and takes a step closer to you. He leans in to whisper, his mouth close to your ear, “You better get off that foot.”

A giggle escapes and you sit down on the bed. “If I didn’t have a bruised foot... then could I be your secretary?”

He walks into the bathroom, and right when he closes the door he stops to tell you no.

Frowning, you crawl back to your pillows. You notice John forgot his pajamas on the bed and you’re about to get up and give them to him, but you decide not to. This should be interesting.

You’re watching TV innocently when the bathroom door cracks open ten minutes later. Steam is hovering around John’s form and you hide your smile.

“Um… I forgot my…” He points to the clothes on the bed and you point to your foot.

“I would help you, but I’m a cripple.” You tell him, now smiling because you can’t hide it anymore. You’re trying not to laugh.

He glares at you when the door opens and you see the towel wrapped around his waist.

“I swear I won’t look.” You tell him, covering your eyes.

“Are we twelve now?” He mocks, stepping out and picking up his clothes.

Your smile fades when you look at him because damn. “No, we are definitely not twelve.” You murmur to yourself, and you don’t mean to gock, but he’s fresh out of the shower, glistening skin and tight muscles, toned and strong. He pushes his hair from his face and notices you watching him.

There’s a smug grin when he turns around and your heart completely skips a beat. All you see are flashes of tattoos, black lines and shading on his back. Maybe on his arms too but it was so fast. If you could only make time stand still.

Now you’re glaring when he comes back into the bedroom a few minutes later. He’s glancing at you very casually. “What?”

“You did that on purpose.”

He laughs and gets under the covers. “What? Forget my clothes?”

“No. Showing off all of your…” You gesture to his body. “Never mind.” You can’t believe this is happening and turn towards the TV, trying to forget the hotness laying beside you. Nope. You can’t. “John, why are you doing this?”

He sits up a little. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you here? Why are you helping me?” There. You finally asked it. Here comes the pity party.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asks, confused. When you don’t say anything, he asks another question. “Would you help me if I needed it?”

You don’t hesitate. “Yes, of course I would.”

“Well,” he lays back down and looks blankly at the TV. “There’s your answer.”

“But you hardly know me.”

He briefly glances at you. “Does it matter? I would want to help anyone. What are we watching?”

You laugh at how simple it was all this time. You should really stop overthinking everything. “Do you want to watch Friends or Seinfeld?”

“Who and what?” He asks, not knowing at all your favorite shows.

You caress his cheek and pet him softly. “You poor, innocent man. I have a lot to teach you about laughing.”

He shoves your hand away playfully. “I watch TV… sometimes.”

“When you’re not doing assassin-y stuff.”

John sighs and closes his eyes. “Yes, when I’m not working.”

“Mmhm.” You don’t really believe him. You figure he reads a lot or studies, or does something really smart. Never really does anything just for fun. “We should totally go to a movie tomorrow!” You say it jokingly, like he would ever agree to something so mindless, but you can hardly believe it when he nods and says okay. “Really? You would go to a movie?”

“Isn’t that what friends do together, right?”

You wouldn’t have any idea. You don’t have friends and you haven’t been to the movies in ages. You hate going by yourself and you never had enough money.

“I think so?” You respond, not really knowing.

He lets out a little yawn. “All of my friends are… well, you know. I don’t see any of them going to a movie.”

“But you would?”

“With you? Yes. You’re not in the business, clearly.”

You throw a pillow at him, but he quickly catches it and puts it behind his head. You mumble to yourself of course and turn off the light. “Just for that, I get to pick.”

He groans and you laugh as you tuck yourself in under the covers. You feel excited for tomorrow. Your therapist was right, you did make a good friend. Even if both of you have no idea what exactly that means.

You’re still in bed when John is getting coffee from the kitchen, looking at your phone for movie times. “Don’t worry, I will not make you sit through a chick flick… or a disney movie… or a musical.”

“Do you take cream and sugar?” John asks, popping his head into the bedroom. You nod yes to both and he disappears again.

“Oh! There’s a new sci-fi movie out. You like aliens, right? It looks scary too.”

John comes back into the room with two steaming hot cups. He hands one to you carefully and you take a slow sip. “Mmm. This is really good, thank you.”

He looks pleased with himself as he gets back into your bed, sitting with his legs crossed under him. His hair is messed up a little and he’s still in his pajamas. The sight is really cute. You’re kind of sad that it was the last night he’s here. You quickly got used to him in your apartment and having someone to come home to was so nice. He already mastered your crappy coffee machine and he does the dishes. But the sleepovers are done and you wish it had lasted a little longer, purely for selfish reasons.

You must be staring at him for too long because he stops drinking his coffee and gives you a small smile. “What?”

Dunking your head, you’re embarrassed that he caught you. “Nothing.”

He grins, like he can read your mind but doesn’t want to ruin the moment. “What time’s the movie?”

“Let’s see…” You tap at your phone, scrolling through the options. “How about this afternoon? Then we could get something to eat or whatever.”

Now he’s really smiling and now he really does call you out. “Wouldn’t this be like… a date? Did you just ask me out on a date?”

“What!” You shriek and put your coffee down on the nightstand, stretching your leg over to try and push him off the bed, but he doesn’t move an inch and just laughs at you. “Oh. My. God. Absolutely not, you weirdo. Why can’t two people just hang out? Jerry and Elaine do it all the time!” You point to the TV in your defense, trying to remind him of the show you watched last night.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” John puts his coffee down too and grabs your foot to inspect the bruise. “Wishful thinking, I guess.”

You roll your eyes, still not being able to fathom John Wick flirting with you. It’s probably all a joke to him anyway so you continue to ignore it. “What’s the verdict, Doc?”

He slides your pant leg up and takes a closer look. “Well, it’s not as dark as it was yesterday. Still a little swollen.”

“Told you it would be fine.”

“You’re welcome.” He cracks a smile and you remember the kiss he placed there last night. “Do you need anything else to feel better?”

“Ugh, gross.” Rolling your eyes even harder. “Your flirting is terrible.”

He grabs at his heart like it hurts. “I take offense to that.”

“Good, that was the point.” You get up from the bed and open the closet, searching for something to wear today. “It’s probably the one thing you’re not good at.”

“I could be good at it.” He says, sipping his coffee again. “I’m just rusty. I need to practise.”

You don’t turn around. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” He repeats slowly, and then horrified, “Wait.. I’m not skeezy am I?”

That makes you laugh and you sit back down on the bed. “No, John. You’re not skeezy. You’re like the opposite of skeezy. You’re too nice to be skeezy.”

“I’m too nice?”

“Yeah.” You get up again and fiddle with your hair that’s fallen in your face. “I know you say these things just to be nice to me. I know it doesn’t mean anything. It’s sweet though, it’s fun. I get it.”

Slowly, he shakes his head, trying to comprehend your thoughts. “So, you’re saying I could never be serious about flirting with you?”

“Ha, not in this lifetime.” You gather your bathrobe and head for a shower. “Don’t worry, I’m not that stupid. I know exactly how far out of your league I am.”

Now John is the one rolling his eyes. You don’t give him a chance to say anything though and close the door to the bathroom, finally able to catch your breath a little. He still makes you nervous, you realize, and you hope the feeling fades the more time you spend with him because it seems like he needs a friend just as much as you do.

You’re brushing your teeth when John taps a knuckle on the door.

“Do you mind if we stop at my place before the movie?”

“You don’t want to wear a suit all day?”

“Not really.” He smiles. “And I have to pick up the dog.”

“Oh right!” You spit into the sink and wash your mouth. “I want some puppy kisses.”

John looks at your lips and then to your eyes. It’s fast, but you still see it. And if you didn’t he mutters, “tease” and leaves to go out the front door.

You grab your purse on the way out and he waits patiently for you to lock the door behind you. He has his bag with him and you’re disappointed it’s not still in your apartment. You wonder if he’s wearing all of his guns and try to sneak a peek under his suit jacket at his waist. You’re not paying attention so you run smack into his back when he stops for the elevator.

Yep, he’s wearing one gun because you feel it hit your stomach. He looks at you oddly and reaches a hand out to steady you.

“Do you always carry a gun when you go places?”

“Usually.”

“Do you ever have to use it?”

“Sometimes.”

The elevator ride down is quiet and you wave to Francis walking by in the hallway. John nods towards him too, like they have some sort of secret understanding.

His car is glistening in the sun and you have to admit, it is a pretty sweet ride. John opens the door for you after he throws his bag in the trunk and you move carefully, afraid you might scratch the paint job. You fold yourself neatly in the seat and stay still.

He smoothly gets in and before you can process about how annoyingly attractive he is, the engine roars to life and he’s speeding out of your complex onto the main road. You have a hard time not watching his hands because his fingers are long and look good around the steering wheel. He drives fast but not enough to make you nervous and glances at you a few times to make sure you’re okay. You don’t say much but it’s a comfortable silence with the windows down. You watch the town go by as you start to relax.

It’s only about a ten minute drive until the car pulls up to the most gorgeous house you’ve ever seen. Of course, this is where John would live. In a house built with huge windows and high ceilings, with a big open yard that’s perfectly manicured.

He parks in the driveway but still pushes a button so the garage door goes up.

“C’mon, I’ll only be a minute.” He tells you and curiosity gets the best of you because you had planned to stay in the car.

“Are you sure? I can wait here.”

“Why?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, obvious that he thinks your question was dumb, and he moves around to open your door again.

“Such a gentleman.” You praise, not being able to help yourself. You can’t remember the last time anyone opened anything for you.

He smiles and leads the way into the house. “Well, I try.”

“This is really pretty.” You tell him, stepping into a long hallway where you can see the living room off to one side and the kitchen off to the other.

“You want the tour?” He asks, throwing his keys into a glass bowl and taking his suit jacket off. There are actually two guns on his belt, the one on his right hip you hadn’t seen.

“No, it’s okay. Just seeing the downstairs is enough to make me depressed about my small apartment.”

John scoffs and opens the front door to let in some air. “I like your place. It’s comfortable there. And the cooking’s really good.”

You laugh and he steers you more into the kitchen, which is huge with a tile floor and what looks like all new appliances. “I’d love to cook in this kitchen. There’s so much room!”

“Yeah?” He stops and looks at you very seriously. “You officially have an open invitation to cook here any time.”

“Ha ha.” You push at his shoulder and walk to the big wood dining table, looking around. There are a bunch of picture frames, but they’re all in a pile on a shelf by the coffee maker. You wonder what kind of pictures he has and why they aren’t on display. You don’t want to be nosy though, so you run your finger over the espresso machine that looks like it cost more than a month of pay. “Marry me?” You bend over and ask it, breathing in deeply the scents of coffee.

John laughs and points at a smaller hallway. “Laundry is through there.” He points at a door. “Basement.” He walks through the kitchen and into the living room, which is sparse but still lovely. You wonder if he decorated this place himself or if he had help.

“Evening entertainment.” He points to the TV even though you see a stack of heavy books on the coffee table, some of them well read. “Upstairs?” He asks, starting for the staircase. You shrug, trying not to seem eager and interested.

The amount of sunlight the house gets is incredible. There are windows everywhere, but you can’t see any neighbors and it’s fairly quiet. This is like your dream house.

“Wow.” It’s all you can say when you enter the master bedroom. A huge bed in the middle that looks so very soft. There’s a sitting couch and table, with a bureau next to the walk in closet. The view is fantastic and you can even see the lake from here. You walk to the other side of his bedroom and almost press your face against the glass. “You live right across from the community college campus! That’s so cool!”

John is in his closet, probably getting new clothes for the day, but you can hear him say, “Yeah?”

“Yeah! You could walk there if you wanted to! Save a ton on parking.” You mutter, more to yourself.

Suddenly he’s right behind you, now in a white cotton shirt with long sleeves. “What do you mean?”

“I applied to go to school in the fall. I want to take some classes, maybe try for a degree or something. My place is far, so it’ll be a hassle but that’s okay.” You tug on the hem of his shirt as you walk by him, throwing your purse on the bed. “What else is up here?” You ask, peering down another long hallway.

He has a proud look in his eyes and he’s still gapping at you a little. “I didn’t know you’re going back to school.”

“Oh, something you finally didn’t know, I can’t believe it.”

“Well, I saw the application on your kitchen table but I didn’t want to assume.”

You laugh because of course he did. “Were you snooping, John Wick?”

“Never. I just observe.”

“Oh, I see.”

He opens the door to an empty bedroom with no furniture. “This was supposed to be a guest room but I never got around to it.”

“What about that room?” You point to the door at the end of the hallway.

“My office.”

“Ooh. Do you have assassin secrets in there?” You smile teasingly and walk back to his bedroom to get your purse.

“No, those are in the basement.”

Laughing, you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. You don’t think he is.

The windows are calling again and you can’t help but to take one more look of the view. “This is just so nice. You have everything in walking distance. The lake, the school…”

There’s a beat of silence before he says, “You should move in here.”

That makes you throw your head back and really laugh. How funny. “John, don’t be stupid.”

“How is that stupid?” He asks, his tone is serious but kind. “There’s an empty room. You can walk to school. You can watch the dog for me when I go on… work trips. You would have a kitchen to cook in.”

This man seems to keep surprising you. “You’ve only known me for like a month. What if I smell bad or something?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “You smell amazing.”

“What if I play loud music really late at night?”

“You can’t keep your eyes open past ten.”

“What if I have parties all weekend long?”

“While you work and go to school? Be my guest.”

“What if I’m messy and leave my clothes everywhere?”

John’s eyes narrow with suspicion. “Did you just pretend to be neat while I was at your place for two days?”

He’s right, you do like a clean house. “Whatever, John.” Hoping that he drops it. “Don’t you have to get the dog?”

“Damn, stay here. I’ll be right back. Their house is just down the street.” He runs down the stairs and you can hear the screen door open and shut.

You look around the bedroom again and take it all in. What a completely different life this would be. Not that you don’t like your apartment. It’s cozy and you’re proud of what you’ve established for yourself. This is too fancy for you anyway. Plus, you like having your space. John would be the weirdest roommate ever. You can’t even imagine.

You jog down the stairs to wait on the couch. You spot some more picture frames stacked nicely in a pile and you’re just about to sneak a look when you can hear them approach the house.

“Puppy kisses!” You cry out and kneel down to gather a happy dog in your arms. If you had any idea this was the dog driving you mad all those nights, you would have taken him for yourself.

“Pooch! Get down.” John’s Alpha voice is hot and both you and the dog stop everything.

He trots over to his doggy bed anyways and plops down. “Cassey, the little girl, wore him out at the park this morning.” John says. “Are you ready to go?”

The movie! You had almost forgotten with all the excitement of being in John’s house.

“Yeah, let’s do it. And don’t worry, I’ll protect you. Don’t get scared.” You tell him, in a bravado voice.

“Can we get gummy bears?” He asks and you crack up on the way back to the garage.

“You’re a grown man, you can get whatever you want.”

John hurries to open the car door for you again. “I meant, would you have any or would you like something else?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, that’s a big decision.” You slide back into the car and think to yourself that you could really get used to the chivalry John is showing. You wonder how long it could last. “I think I have to see all my options.”

John smiles as he starts the car and lowers the garage door. “This is really serious.”

You fasten your seatbelt and get comfortable. “When’s the last time you went to a movie?”

He turns his head to back out of the driveway, putting his arm around your seat. His face is very close to yours and you notice that his eyes are a very pretty brown when he’s not working.

“Good point.”

You grin, breaking the eye contact because it’s making your stomach fill with butterflies that you mentally quiet down.

The theater is busy and you realize it’s a Friday during summer, so all the teenagers are here. John’s phone rings as he parks and tells you he has to take it, so you decide to get in line and buy the tickets. He’s leaning against his car, chatting while looking around at his surroundings and smiles at you when he catches you checking on him.

You quickly see that the movie is sold out and not knowing what to do, you walk back to John and the car just as he’s finishing his conversation. It sounds like he was speaking in Russian, but you can’t be sure. “All set?” He asks, sliding the phone in his pocket and reaching to put his hand on your back. He hardly ever really touches you, but his hand hovers over your body constantly.

“It’s sold out.” You tell him. “Do you want to see something else or maybe come back another day?”

“Oh.” He looks disappointed. “But you really wanted to see that movie.”

“It’s okay, shit happens, right?” You shrug it off easily. This is not the worst thing that could happen. Plus, you’re hanging out with John, so you could be going to the town dump and you’d be happy.

“Hold on. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He takes off towards the theater and leaves you by the car. You watch him go and it’s almost like he’s in slow motion again. You wonder how just his stride oozes that much confidence.

In a few minutes he’s back with two tickets. “Here we go. C’mon.”

“How’d you do that?” You dumbly follow him to the theater doors and he guides you to walk in front of him.

“It’s a secret. What do you want?”

You’re still staring at him in a silent awe as he looks at the refreshment stand. A beautiful young worker comes to help and John’s gaze is just on you.

“Um… gummy bears? Right?” You ask him, trying to snap out of it. “That’s what you wanted?”

He leans in close, dark hair falling into his eyes. “I’m asking what you want.”

You don’t really remember what the hell you say, but somehow John pays and leads you down a long hallway and to your seats. Now he’s really close to you and the smell of his cologne is making your legs weak.

“You okay?”

“Yes!” It comes out too fast but you realize you’re acting weird and need to get with it.

John nods and crosses his long legs, sitting back in the chair and shifting towards you, whispering as advertisements play on the big screen. “I have a question.”

“Yes?”

“Do friends hold hands at the movies?”

You close your eyes. “No, John. They do not.”

“Not even when I scored tickets that were sold out?”

You lean in to him and smile. “If you tell me how you did that, I might reconsider the answer to your question.”

“Hmm…” He runs fingers over his beard as he thinks. “I talked to the manager.”

“And?”

“And I paid him.”

“John!”

“What? You wanted to know, so I told you.”

You shake your head in disbelief as the lights lower and the movie starts. “You’re crazy.”

He doesn’t disagree with you, but he does turn towards the screen, still touching your elbow throughout most of the first half of the movie. When it gets really creepy, he covers his mouth every time you jump in your seat, hiding his smile.

You somehow get closer to his shoulder, shielding your eyes and turning into his body when you jump again, grabbing onto his arm. The muscles you feel are solid, and you technically knew they were there, you just never really considered them before. And you are definitely considering them now.

John lets you hold on to him, and even offers to hold your hand when the movie winds down and you link his pinky with yours, not wanting to totally turn him down. He seems satisfied with that and smoothes his thumb down your hand a few times before the credits roll.

“That was so good!” You exclaim, getting up from your seat and stretching. “I forgot how fun the movies are!”

“You were scared.” John teases, playfully shaking your hand with his.

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Whatever, you were scared too.” You tell him, pushing the heavy doors open and heading to his car. The sky is darker now and the wind has picked up, chilling your arms. You wish you had brought a sweater.

“I was definitely not scared.” John laughs, his hand hovering over your back again. You feel it because you stop for a car and his arm is suddenly pressed into your waist. He moves quickly though, opening the door for you to get inside.

He turns on the heat as soon as he can and asks where you want to eat.

“It’s up to you. I could go for anything.”

“Sushi?”

That surprises you and you can’t help but look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just didn’t know John Wick likes sushi. I see you more of an all meat kinda guy.”

“I have a very sophisticated pallet.”

“Oh, my mistake.” You laugh and tell him to lead the way.

He takes you to a really nice place and you talk about the movie and the food all throughout dinner. It’s nice, not forced, and fun. These past two days, even with the weird circumstances, have been really fun. You want to pay for the dinner, but of course John beats you to it without you even realizing until it’s far too late. You glare at him and tell him that friends usually split the check. He apologizes with a sparkle in his eye and you know he’s not sorry at all.

When John pulls up to your apartment you thank him for such a great day.

“Are you sure you’re not going to be scared?” He asks, after telling you he had fun today too.

“Yes, John.”

“I could spend the night again, just to make sure.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll be fine. And you have to get back to Pooch.”

“You could spend the night at my place.” John offers, completely innocent but realizes what he says and adds, “I could take the couch, of course.”

“Good bye, John.” You tell him and he wants you to let him know if you need anything, or if you hear from Max. “I will.” Waving, you open the car door before he can get out and do it for you. The walk up to your apartment is quiet and just a little lonely.

Once you get inside it’s worse, but you try to ignore it. Instead, you lay in bed where John had slept and cuddle the pillows.

He texts you once he’s home, to make sure you made it to the apartment okay.

You didn’t let me walk you upstairs, he texts with a sad face.

Instead of telling him that you’re a grown up or you don’t need his protection, you simply text back next time.

You really hope there’s a next time.

TBC Chapter 3

#john wick #john wick x you #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x y/n #romance #slow build #find your worth #chapter 2 #keanu reeves

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mourntheantagonist · 4 years ago

Text

Billy Hargrove’s Exploration Of Beauty

Part 7: When Blue Met Pink

chapter one: joyce

also on ao3

Billy pulled into the parking space outside of Melvald’s with a screech of the tires. The body of the car slightly jerked forward once he finally came to a complete stop just before he would hit the yellow parking block. The right tire sat just outside the white line, a rookie looking parking job to say the least.

With his wallet in one hand, and his keys twirled around the index finder of his other, as he heard the metal pieces clank, he walked through the glass doors into the store. He heard the chime of the opening door ring through the mostly empty space.There were only a few people. An old lady who was carefully inspecting the soup aisle, and a middle aged woman with her toddler son who were walking past the ice cream. The little kid with his hand up in the air, his finger pointed to the tub of rocky road that was barely visible through fogged over glass. He noticed the exhausted eyes of the woman masked by heavy mascara and shadow. “I already said no Daniel.” she sighed. Joyce Byers was at the counter, her elbows resting by the cash register, head propped up in her hands as she stared blankly in front of her with her head tilted in a way that indicated she was thinking about something that the rest of the world just couldn’t comprehend.

He ignored the total three figures that roamed the aisles of the small little corner store, offered a wave and a smile to Mrs. Byers that went completely unnoticed, and got to the task at hand. Not there to pick up some milk or butter like Neil always had him do whenever they ran out, as if he was the one sneaking spoonfuls of butter at two in the morning. No, that was all Max, the fucking weirdo. He also wasn’t there to pick up a pack of cigarettes, though he probably would once he got to the counter, considering the phrase “pack of reds” served as his default greeting to every cashier. He was there, at Melvald’s, at three in the afternoon, like a fucking sap, because he was buying little treats for the boyfriend he had waiting for him at the big house off of 3rd avenue, a movie and hopefully more as their evening plans.

He knew what Steve liked. He hated what Steve liked. But despite his utter disgust over strawberry fruit snacks tainting delicious cheddar cheese popcorn, the smile on Steve’s face whenever he tossed a new box of Sunkist Fun Fruits at him was worth the effort of sifting through the bowl. He located the snack aisle and picked out the familiar yellow and red box, along with some Orville Redenbacher. The time on the clock overhead read only a quarter after three, and Steve wouldn’t be home from dealing with the nerd herd until at least a quarter ‘til, so with his extra time, he continued to browse.

He picked up a couple of other things. A box of Twinkies so he could make some of his favorite jokes, some Ho Hos so Steve could make some of his. The basket was slowly filled to the brim with junk food, indicative of a truly wild night ahead of him.

On his way to the refrigerated section to scope out the drinks, the glimpse of a carefully assorted rainbow of colors stopped him in his tracks. It’s a small section, no more than two and a half feet in diameter, but at almost the instant he recognized the familiarly shaped bottles on display, he went on complete pause. There was nobody anywhere around him, no sound of nearing footsteps, so he let himself stand there and ponder. Let himself imagine just reaching out and touching something on display as he kept his eyes averted, locked straightforwardly toward the cases of beer behind translucent refrigerator doors. He just stared blankly, with an inner attempt to form some reasonable excuse to be a man who was looking at makeup.

“Oh, Max asked me to pick it up for her.”

He settled on that one.

And turned his head.

He was just going to look. That was all.

There held a whole magnitude of various beauty products, from polishes, to moisturizers, to lipsticks…

That rosy pink stared right back at him like it was screaming at him to pick it up. To look. To swatch. To taste. To feel that velvety cream cover his lips. A tint similar to that of his own lips but just more… pretty. Smooth and elegant and airbrushed. “Soft matte look,” it read.

He wanted it.

He wanted to add it into the basket of goodies he’s already collected as another treat for himself. Maybe a treat for Steve if he decides he likes it.

They discussed it in the past in a very, tip-toed around the subject kind of way. Steve gently held his hand in his as he applied a light pink varnish, similar to that of the lipstick shade, onto his nails. Steady hands perfectly coated the area without any sign of streaks or rough edges. They’d reached a point where that was routine, a little thing Billy could have of himself while they were alone together. Another thing they could add onto the list. It was something Billy felt just a little bit of safety around taking with him that one time. When the night had gone so perfectly with hot cocoa by the furnace, and the added bonus that Neil wouldn’t be home to inspect his appearance, he said no to the cotton balls and acetone and the clear coat replacement and instead let color coated nails remain under the cloak of his jacket pockets. He was on cloud nine as he walked through the door of his own house with concealed hands and no questions asked. He locked the door to his room and allowed himself to stare down at his hands. Fingers splayed against his bedding looking at how the pink contrasted with the blue of his sheets, and he felt an overwhelming sense of contentment and a little dash of pride.

That same night, while his nails were going from bland to bold, Steve popped the question like it held no weight at all. Like it was just a casual sort of thing used to fill the silent gaps.

“Have you thought about wearing makeup at all?”

He didn’t even look at him when he said it, completely enthralled in the way the bristles contacted the nail, so he didn’t see Billy's eyes widen like saucers. However, he did notice as the hand in his hold began trembling.

Steve ever so slightly tightened his grip to help reduce the shaking, his eyes angled up at Billy finally, the painting temporarily discontinued. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked.

No. Yes? The thing was, with Steve’s first question, the answer was yes. He had thought about it. All the damn time. Like a woodpecker pecking away at his skull, he thought about it. Every time he saw a woman with a shimmer on her eyes, black in her waterline, a shine to her lips, a rosy tint to her cheeks… he felt unbridled envy. He wanted to feel the way they felt. Billy wanted powder to clog his pores and give his face a uniform color. Become a blank slate. He envied that soft and smooth and gentle and pretty appearance.

He found himself on more than one occasion sneaking into the master bathroom where Susan had kept all of her make up. Too scared to touch it, he would just look at it. Try to psyche himself up to reach for that little tube of Mary Kay mascara and shove it into his pocket before the rumble of the truck outside would shake the house.

Instead he would slam the drawer shut and rush back to his room and forget it even happened as he bit away at his clear coated nails. He’d fall back onto his pillow and let his eyes fall shut. He would let the darkness consume him into a dream where he didn’t have to be afraid to add volume to his already long lashes or add a tinted gloss to his lips. He’d enjoy the free feeling for as long as it would last.

So yeah. He thought about wearing makeup.

He didn’t tell Steve that though. Instead he chose to only respond to the second question. Because some things were just a little too hard to say out loud. Some things were a little too foreign.

As much as Billy wanted to bridge that gap between femininity and masculinity, he also had every desire to keep them separate. To push away all of those urges to wear lacy lingerie and silk panties. Keep his hair short, face and nails bare and unkempt. Smell of sweat and hard work like a man. “I’m fine.” he said in lieu of the complete truth. It didn’t feel or sound like a lie when he said it. But later on he figures out that it definitely was.

They had that conversation already, but it didn’t keep those thoughts from lingering. His mind was boggled with confusion about who he was and what he liked and the additional bafflement over how simple it all was to Steve.

So simple in fact that he said the most perfect thing as if it was just another instinctual flick of the tongue.

“Well I can bet you’d look real pretty with lipstick.”

It was said like he wants it. Not just for Billy’s sake, but his own, and that right there felt amazing.

That was the first night he finally let his hands sift through that drawer of Susan’s and sneak away a couple of items. Susan and Neil had yet to arrive home from their trip into the city so Billy was safe. He had painted nails that felt like a shield. When he held the tube of mascara, the nude bullet lipstick, and the only bottle of polish he could find in his own hands, he felt completely untouchable.

He locked himself in his own room and stood in front of his makeshift vanity. Tossed the stolen objects into the mess of cologne, hairspray, and cigarette ash. He just studied himself for a moment. Hunched over taking deep and shaky breaths, in and out. Every logical thought in his mind was shouting at him to go put it back. To put it somewhere other than his room. That dreadful thought that just its temporary occupancy in his room would be easily detected by Neil, even if he chucked it out of his window right then, scared him. It was all too risky to be doing in his own house, yet he still twisted open the cap of the mascara and pulled out the wand.

It was in that moment that Billy had no fucking clue what he was doing. Didn’t even know where to begin.

He just closed it right back up, slipped it underneath a stack of records, and moved on. He twisted open the lipstick only to be met with a very light shade. Lighter than his own skin color. Applied to his lips it just looked absolutely ridiculous. It didn’t give him that pop of vibrancy he envied in the women he saw. It made his lips feel more sunken in and lifeless, rather than big and beautiful.

And he already knew he hated the nail polish. He didn’t even have to apply it. It was a rust color, like a dirty orange. Billy hated the color orange, and mixing it with brown didn’t fucking improve it.

It was all a total bust. A complete waste of his energy. With his sleeve he wiped the lipstick from his lips and stowed away the rest of the contraband. He went to bed feeling extra shitty, the despair of empty darkness was the only thing included in his night.

He stopped letting himself think about makeup since that night. All it achieved was making him feel disappointed and just... bad. No other way to describe it.

But it all came flooding back when he saw the display. Not the bad feelings, the good ones, the ones he had in his dreams. The feeling of completion that couldn’t be realized with the makeup Susan guilt purchased off of a friend’s “growing small business.” There was a little hope growing in the pit of his stomach as he let himself peruse the many options at his disposal. A little bit of hope that maybe he just didn’t have the right stuff.

He just held the pink lipstick in his hand. He debated between dropping it into the basket or hanging it back up on the hook. Twiddling it in between his fingers, he let his mind race to many different places. Emotions of fear and joy clashed in his mind, like he couldn’t have one without facing the other.

But fear wasn’t dependent on joy. Because a small woman cleared her throat next to him and, surely enough, the only thing he was feeling at that moment was complete terror. Not an ounce of happiness to be seen.

It was Joyce Byers.

Well shit.

“Whatcha got there?” she asked, neck craned to the left to make out what he had tightly clasped between his fingers.

“It’s for Max.” he said, too assuredly. Like it was clearly a prepared statement, the lie obvious in the pitch of his voice.

“Really? Max doesn’t strike me as a makeup girl.” It’s not really accusatory, not necessarily. But he could hear it. That ever so slight undertone in her voice that had disbelief written all over it. Her head was cocked just like it was when he first walked into the store, and it felt like she was reading him like a goddamn open book.

Billy couldn’t seem to find the words, unsure how to defend himself in the situation he was completely unprepared for. Stood there in silence as he let the words filter through his brain, waiting for the right ones to pop up in front of him, but they never did. He never really knew how to talk to older women other than through excessive and overdone flirtation.

“What shade did you pick?”

With no other choice in his immediate thoughts, he handed the lipstick tube over. She slowly took it away from his slightly too tight of a grip. She had a slight smile when she pulled off the cap to see the rose colored tip slowly rise out as she twists the bottom of the silver tube.

“This is pretty, though I think a shade like this would complement a skin tone more like your own. Wouldn’t you agree?”

That was the invitation, right there in that subtle little nod. She made eye contact with him before she quickly turned her eyes downward at his hands. the same hands that were nervously chipping away at dried, hideous, rust colored nail polish that he painted just before he left as a little surprise for Steve. Even though he hated the color, even though his right hand looked much better than his left. Ambidexterity was not something in his wheelhouse. He immediately stuffed his one free hand into his pocket, and tossed the other one that was currently holding his basket of groceries behind his back. As if she hadn’t already seen. She’d figured him out like some elementary math problem. The lipstick and the nail polish was just a 2 + 2 = 4 kind of situation.

“I don’t - this isn’t…” He couldn’t get a full sentence out because he really had no clue as to how to deny it, and there’s also a weird feeling that he loathes where he’s not sure he even wants to. She was just Joyce Byers. His only connection to the woman had a pretty long chain. Steve’s ex’s boyfriend’s Mom. Or Max’s friend’s Mom. Nothing direct. Nothing so close that he had to truly fear. Additionally, she was being nice? She wasn’t doing the things he’d always expected people to do. She wasn’t spewing slurs or making fun. There was a genuine motherly interest in the way she asked for the color that wasn’t completely foreign, but it was something so far away in his past that it might as well have been.

His face got red from just his own natural blush. His heart was racing, beating out of his chest until he could hear the blood pumping in his ears. He felt like he’s being submerged under water until there was a small, cold hand pulling at his own.

“Come with me.” she says, her voice soft and planned. Billy just let her guide him, giving up and giving in to the little temptation to let someone else inside of the little sanctuary he built for himself. Even if all it was was just a small little glimpse into Billy’s secret world he’d only just begun exploring. He had so many things left to discover, things he wouldn’t find if he let his fear and shame dictate everything.

Joyce led him into the compact supply closet in the back of the store. They’re surrounded by shelves filled with boxes and various miscellany. He felt slightly suffocated in the small enclosure, but simultaneously a weird feeling of warmth in the way Joyce smiled at him. A soft upturn of the corners of her mouth, lips still sealed but the sincerity clear in the brightness of her eyes and the slight rise of her brows.

“What were you looking to get?” she asks. Unspecific yet specific. She left a name unattached to the end of the question on purpose to give Billy the opportunity for an out, if he wanted to deny the thing they both knew to be true.

“Lipstick? Gloss maybe? I don’t - I’m not sure I…”

After taking the full basket from his hands and setting it onto the floor, Joyce took his hands into her own again.

“It’s okay, y’know, if it’s not for Max.”

She was so straightforward. She just got right to the point without it feeling like an attack. Just strode right in with unwavering acceptance and affirmation. Letting him know that it was okay.

He looked at Joyce and saw his mom. Not the mom who abandoned him with Neil, but the mom who did things like this. The one who would cradle him after a nightmare and who told him he was destined for greatness. The one who encouraged him to be himself even when his father had other ideas.

“You know who you are. Nobody else gets to say differently.” she’d tell him when his father forced him into baseball and threw out his stuffed animals. Neil would go on to replace the keepsakes that represented softness with model cars and legos. It was just an act of toughening him up and preparing him to become a man at the ripe old age of seven. He was reminded daily of his role as a man in society with little tests just to make sure he stayed in line.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Red.” he’d say, when he wanted to say purple.

He’d get berated when he cried when he got hurt.

“If you want to cry I’ll give you something to cry about,” Neil would say, as he stuck a hydrogen peroxide saturated cotton ball into the open wound.

Billy’s Mom never did that. Always warned him about the sting and rubbed his arm the whole way through. Preaching the opposite of everything his Dad would say. “It’s okay to cry, honey. Just let it out.”

His Mom was beautiful. He loved to sit in the bathroom and watch her as she put on her makeup. He’d seen the way her mouth dropped open when she applied mascara to her eyes, the way she smacked her lips together after she swiped on her favorite red lipstick... he wanted to be just like her.

He’d stolen from her once, and it didn’t end well. It was just a red lipstick. He was caught, almost literally, red handed. When his father had barged into his bedroom without so much as a knock, the red on his lips turned into red elsewhere. It was a mistake he learned never to repeat.

After all that, there he was, in a store where he listened to a woman tell him that all of the things he was raised to believe were far from okay, were perfectly okay. With Steve’s voice in his head echoing that of his Mom’s and Joyce’s, he let himself actually believe it this time.

“Thanks.” Billy said. It’s the closest thing he’ll get to an admission. He can’t outright say it, but in the way her smile widened before she turned around, he knew she understood.

“So,” she said, “–I have some product we can’t sell because the seals were broken. They’re still perfectly fine if you would like them.” She pulled a couple of things from the box on the lower shelf. The same lipstick he’d held out in the store along with a clear gloss, a small eyeshadow palette, some face powder and mascara. A full face worth of makeup moved from the palms of her hands into his own, accepting them with a nod of his head and the sniffle of someone trying to hold back tears.

“Are you sure?” he asked. A question with multiple meanings. All of which Joyce seems to pick up on. She pulled him into a tight hug. A warmth encompassed him all around that made him feel so overcome and just… good. Joyful and free like a painful growth was painlessly removed along with the truth’s reveal.

“Yes. I’m sure Billy. It’s okay.” An answer with multiple meanings.

They both exit the small closet, it felt like a metaphor for something. He headed up to the counter to buy his items, and Joyce began scanning his things when she got another smile on her face.

“Special occasion tonight?” she asked.

“Yeah. I got a hot date.” Not a lie.

She laughed a little before she punched the keys on the register.

“Anything else I can get for you Billy?”

Billy smiled.

“A pack of Reds.”

- : -

When Billy pulled into the driveway of Steve’s house he barged right in through the front door. He held the paper bag close to his chest and he shouted an “I have arrived!” that echoed up the stairs and all the way up to Steve’s room. Billy could hear the springs of Steve’s bed before he got up and rushed down the stairs to greet him with a little peck on the lips, immediately taking the bag from Billy’s hands to begin the formal review of his selections.

Steve set the bag onto the coffee table and began to sift through all of the things Billy bought. He tossed the cigarette pack at Billy with aggressive force before going right back into the bag.

The real surprise laid close to the bottom of the bag, hidden beneath the Twinkies and the popcorn and all the other junk food that had Steve beaming. Food was truly the easiest way to Steve’s heart.

Billy stood there tapping his foot and grabbing at his hands behind his back as he waited for Steve to see all the other things he got, to give him that little reaction he always knew would be positive, no matter the voices in his head that told him otherwise.

He seemed to have reached the bottom of the bag when he stalled. He just stared into the bottom of the brown paper bag, the table already covered in scattered candy and snacks, the only things left in the bag were the gifts from Joyce.

“Please tell me you’re going to put this on tonight.” Steve finally turned to look at him with an absolute ridiculous smile on his face. His mouth and eyes couldn’t possibly get any wider than they were right then. He seemed so fucking excited and it all radiated straight into Billy, and all he could do was walk up to him and kiss him. Billy pulled Steve’s face with both hands and practically consumed him like he was one of those Hostess desserts. Two untameable smiles pressed up against each other.

Billy reached for the tube of lipstick out of the bag and held it in between the two of them, he asked, “Are you going to help me put it on?”

Billy was wrong. Steve’s smile could get wider. Steve took Billy by the hand and sat him down on the couch, taking the bag with him as he straddled Billy’s lap.

“You know what you’re doing pretty boy?” Billy asked. He pushed Steve’s hair behind his ears as he looked up at him in awe. He relished in Steve’s excitement that was perfectly matching his own. It was all he could ever ask for.

“Yeah,” he said, “I’ve seen Nancy do it enough times.” Billy rolls his eyes at the mention of her name. Steve poked him in the face, causing Billy's face to scrunch. “Oh get over it Billy, I am.”

Billy was already shaking with anticipation and just wanted to get on with it without the mention of Steve’s former girlfriend. “Just shut up. Make me the prettier one.”

“Oh you already are, gorgeous.”

Steve twisted open the lipstick and carefully held Billy’s chin up so he was looking directly at him. With a steady hand and a soft touch, the smooth cream brushed against his lips and coated them to perfection. No overdrawn lines or transferring to his teeth, the color suited him so well, just a soft pink just slightly darker and more vibrant than the color of his own. It made his lips look bolder and fuller than they already were.

“Now look straight forward for me,” Steve said before he reached into the bag for another piece of product. “–and raise your eyebrows.” Steve twisted and pulled the wand from the metallic gold tube, the black bristles looked like spider legs. “Okay, hold still.”

“I swear to God Steve, if you poke me in the fucking eye–”

“Have some faith in me, damn!”

Fortunately for both Billy and Steve, none of the black goopy liquid found its way into Billy’s eyes. There was only a minor sting that, with time, he could easily see himself get used to. The sensation was followed by the feeling of soft bristles going in circles around his cheeks. Steve had asked him to smile for the application, but that wasn’t the reason he was doing it. The look of focus in Steve’s eyes along with the slight exposure of the tip of his tongue through his mostly sealed lips had sent Billy reeling.

Steve leaned back to get a complete view of his work. “Wow, I’m good.”

“Okay, hot shot,” Billy said with a nudge to his shoulder, “show me then.”

In a moment of surprising strength, Steve hoisted Billy up and over his shoulder by the grab of his ass. Billy’s stomach had come to rest right on the point of Steve’s shoulder, which sent him into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. His voice fluctuated and bounced with each step Steve took down the hall toward the bathroom. Billy clung to Steve’s shirt, hiking it up past the midpoint of his as he did so.

“Oh my god! Put me down!” he laughed.

Billy’s legs flailed, with the result of a knocked over a lamp and a bruised ankle from the abrupt contact with the doorframe.

“Ow!”

“Sorry!”

Steve sat Billy on the edge of the sink, his face still faced away from the mirror. They were still coming down from their laughter when Billy, seemingly having forgotten about the makeover that he had just been given not even a full minute ago, leant down in an attempt to lay one right onto Steve.

“Hey, don’t ruin it before you even see it!” Steve pushed him back away from him and then helped him down from the sink and with a comforting grip of Billy’s biceps, he turned him around. “See? it looks so good on you!” Steve stood behind Billy with his hands trailing down to his waist, head over his shoulder, looking at him like he was his brilliant creation. Steve Harrington’s masterpiece, his most prized possession. “Wait right here, I got you something.”

Left alone in the bathroom, Billy was able to just let himself stare. Let himself lean in close to the mirror, his nose nearly touched the glass as he studied the tint to his lips, the definition to his lashes, the slight pink to his cheeks... It was the first time he ever looked at himself, like really looked at himself, and saw someone pretty. He truly believed it this time.

Steve came back with a bag of his own. It was a small bag with a French name on the side of it Black, and elegant, and Billy already had an idea of what’s inside. The day just kept on getting better. Billy tore the tissue out of the bag, and pulled the pieces of fabric out. It was a dust rose garter belt with stockings, panties, and a bralette, a perfect match for his lips. The lace was so sheer and the baroque floral patterns were so elegant he wanted nothing more than to just put it on right there. Strip himself down to the bare essentials and allow the openwork to protect him.

“You think you wanna give me a fashion show?” Steve asked, pulling the sleeves of Billy’s jacket down over his shoulders. Billy smiled and pushed Steve gently out the bathroom door and shut it right in his face.

He wasted no time putting it on. The way the fabric sat on his hips and his chest felt almost like it was tailored specifically to him. Enough room in the crotch area while also perfectly hugging his hips. The stockings squeezing his thighs just the perfect amount. There was no uncomfortable overhang in the bralette. He had never felt more comfortable wearing anything before. The pink on tan skin, the emphasis on every curve of his. He felt so soft and pretty and almost totally complete. He was just missing one thing.

Billy strutted out of the bathroom with a genuine conviction he’d never had before. There was no fear this time, no tears. Just pure elation at the prospect of Steve seeing him like this. Loving the way he looks in lingerie and makeup. Loving him for who he is and thinking he’s still hot. Still sexy and attractive.

“Holy shit you look fucking amazing baby.” Steve slowly walked toward him. He took in the whole view, committing the entire sight to memory because it was absolutely glorious. “I hope you aren’t mad,” he began, his hands finding Billy’s hips. “but I had my Mom pick it up while she was in Paris. I found out they make men’s lingerie there and I wanted you to have something special. She doesn’t know who it was for, but she knows I’m dating a guy now.”

They had never really discussed the topic of coming out. It felt like something that didn’t need to be said. Telling people was something so far off the radar of possibility that Billy felt a creeping sensation of absolute dread before he was finally able to open up his mouth to speak.

“And she was okay with it?”

Steve smiled and bowed his head just slightly. “Surprisingly, yeah. She was the one who wanted to pick something up for you. So I jumped on the chance.”

“Does your Dad know?” Steve laughed and shook his head.

“God I hope not. His brain would probably explode.” Billy pulled Steve in by the hold of his cheeks, and let their foreheads touch while they stared deep into each other’s eyes. Steve’s hands traced up and down the curves of Billy’s body, fingers dragged against the lace and their smiles were uncontrollable. “I’m sorry, I should have asked you first.”

“Hey,” Billy’s voice was soft, “I’m happy for you.” Steve's sigh of relief was hot against Billy’s mouth. “And thank you, for this.” he said before the distance between them was finally closed and lips were pressed to lips, pink color smeared all over each other’s faces.

The only thing better than wearing that lipstick was having Steve ruin it.

next part

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #mandi writes tresh

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youarejesting · 4 years ago

Text

Limited Edition.6 Outdoor Fun

[FULL MASTERLIST] [Limited Edition Master list]

Beta: N/A Rating: All audiences Genre: Fantasy, Comedy, Fluffy Fluff, Adventure. Pairing: Bts x Friend!Reader Words: 1.3K

Summary: It is your first time buying proper merchandise, there are new chibi figurines and the first person to order will recieve a limited edition set. But what happens when BTS have gone missing without a trace and a few days later you receive your package. The box says congratulations, you open to find your limited edition figures, they look so lifelike. OH WAIT! it’s cause they are.

The days passed slowly, you had learned so many more Korean phrases and even your cooking skills improved. Filming the boys was fun, you took some fun video footage and you grinned as your hands, arms and legs appeared in the music video.

You were representing the Army coming home and stepping into the house in your jeans and they came running from the lounge and other scenes where you helped them with big things and they helped you with small things.

You made your desk look really pretty with lights and you did some really cool shots while they danced. Most of all you were thankful the boys were patient with your novice skills. You had the tools but they showed you how to use it and more.

After a long day, you set up the lounge room so that you could watch a movie together. They were amazed by how big the screen was and you laughed. The eight of you were watching a new release film and sharing snacks, it was quite funny watching them each hold a single piece of popcorn and use their plastic doll cups. Drinking slowly, each swinging their legs as they sat on bottle caps they were using as seats..

Partway through the movie, Yoongi had moved and accidentally sat on the remote, turning off the movie and shrouding the room in darkness. Hoseok made a whimper and you turned on your phone light and laughed kneeling beside the small coffee table and they all ran to you hugging your front as you put the movie back on.

Perhaps you shouldn’t have decided on a scary one, especially when they all decided they didn’t want to sleep alone and they all climbed onto your pillow with their blankets and nestled in. Hoseok was afraid so he slept on your neck and Yoongi made a trek up your arm and onto your abdomen where he sat and looked down at you before collapsing onto his pillow wrapped in his blanket.

“ᵃʰ, ˢᵒ ʷᵃʳᵐ” He muttered and you sighed, Taehyung was hugging your pinky and Jungkook laid on your hair talking about how nice it smelt after a shower. The other three were scattered around you and you sighed staring at the ceiling as Namjoon’s soft snores filled the night air much like a kitten's purrs.

To say you got little to no sleep wasn’t an exaggeration, you think at most you had a solid hour and a half. You were worried you would roll on the boys and hurt them, so you spent most of the night reading forums on your phone in low light with only one hand. You were searching for information about the factory the boys had visited and anything on Mr. Kang.

You found that the toy factory had previously been a research facility that worked on genetic modifications. You had a sneaking suspicion this could be the reason for what happened and on top of that; the Army was suspicious of Mr. Kang saying he was actually a spy from the previous big three trying to sabotage BTS in order to regain their power.

You were trying to be unbiased but you really didn’t like Mr. Kang there was something about him. He seemed to be pleased in interviews about the current situation like this was exactly what he wanted to happen. The sun rose as did the boys one by one and you thought perhaps you could take them outside for some much-needed sunlight.

Moving them slowly to the side, you had to pry Taehyung from your hand and gently placed him between Namjoon and Jimin. Taheyung unconsciously tried to curl up to Namjoon who pushed him away in his sleep. This resulted in poor Jimin becoming victim to Taehyung’s firm grasp.

Feeling particularly energised, you changed into a swimsuit before heading outside to the medium sized in ground pool. A few laps later and your serotonin levels were skyrocketing.

Pressing the towel to your face you assumed it was time to head inside and make breakfast before the boys woke.

Drying your hair, your damp feet pitter pattered on the tiles, you were humming softly. The towel hooded over you and obscuring a fraction of your scope of vision made it unlikely that you saw the boys moving about, but you went to the closet looking for something to wear.

“Noona where did you go?” Taehyung asked

“Ah to the pool” you blushed wrapping yourself in the damp towel “I am just going to shower and dress and then I can make breakfast”

“I ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴡɪᴍ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴏʟ” Taehyung whined and Seokjin agreed. You imagined for a moment the boys swimming but the pool was like an ocean to them and you could imagine them getting tired easily.

“It’s dangerous you are all so small I don’t want you to get hurt?” You frowned, kneeling down to look Taehyung in the eye. The boys had in fact requested you go to their level as it hurts their nexts to look up so often.

“ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ?” Jungkook clasped his hands together.

“How about the bath instead, that will be the size of a big pool for you?” They climbed into the carry basket preferring to be carried this way instead of being picked up.

You ran a warm bath and they had all changed behind you into their swim shorts and you helped them in one by one you had given them a small number of floating toys. After telling them you were just going to put on a dress over your swimsuit Yoongi protested.

“Get in the water” he said and the others agreed so you slipped into the end of the tub and hummed it was warm. Jungkook climbed up your knee and a bomb dived into the water which made Jimin try it as well. Taehyung swam under the water to touch your toes but you panicked and pulled him back up.

“Don’t do that I thought you would pass out?”

“No, I am very good at swimming underwater, I can hold my breath for a long time” he grinned

“It scares me please”

“Noona cup your hands like this and push them under the water make sure to trap the bubble” you did your best and felt Jungkook sit under your palms before swimming out. “That was cool there was some air I could breath”

You had remembered a friend of your family warning you never to have boys as they will scare you constantly. She was right these boys would be the death of you and that death would be fright.

How could they be so reckless? After a long play in the tub you took them to their house and went back to the bathroom for a shower of your own.

You were thinking back to Mr. Kang and you stepped out of the shower grabbing your phone off the bench and calling his number.

“Hello, this is Kang Jungho speaking”

“Hello Mr. Kang this is y/n, I am calling about the Bangtan Boy in my care” you bit your lip. “I was wondering how things are going with returning them back to Korea and returning them to their bodies”

“Listen, this isn’t easy to say but, we aren’t going to get them, we think it’s best for the BigHit image if we have them disappear for a new group to take their place.” He said

“You were never coming to get them were you?”

“Of course not, I am the one who did this too them” he laughed “goodbye”

The call disconnected and you placed the phone onto the counter and walked back into the shower and cried into your hands.

What were you supposed to tell them?

Tags: @victory0461 @gqmf-bangtanmama

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‘Follow’ and turn on ‘Notifications’ so you never miss an update

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sinnamonn · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome to Hell ch. 3: Deal with a Devil

Levi kin assigns Gia and makes them help in a revenge plot against Mammon

Word count: 2.8 k

Mammon looked between Gia and Levi nervously,

“..Uh, listen up, human!” He started, “This here is Leviathan, Avatar of Envy. He’s the third oldest of us brothers. His name is kinda hard to say so just call him Levi”

“Hi.” Gia waved, only to be ignored by him. Rude.

“OK! Let’s move on!” Mammon said quickly, only for Levi to stop him.

“Mammon! Give me back my money. Then crawl in a hole and die!”

Oh shit.

“Come on, I told you I’d get it to you! I just need a little more time.” Mammon replied, “and you still want me to die even after I give it back? That’s harsh, Levi!”

So the Avatar of Greed was not the most popular brother, Gia gathered as they watched the two bicker.

“You need a little more time? How much more?” Levi sneered

“A little more means a little more!” He snapped back

“You’ve been telling me that for the last 200 years!”

“Hey, no! It hasn’t been 200 years it’s been 260! Get it right, Levi!”

“Dude you are not making yourself look better.” Gia said. They really wished they had popcorn about now.

“Yeah, that’s even worse!” Levi agreed

“Don’t you gang up on me!” Mammon exclaimed, “What the hell, human, I thought you were on my side?!”

“Nah, I’m still pissed that you tried to rob me. And called me broken. And were just a general dickhead to me.” Gia replied, earning a long groan from the demon. Levi picked up where they stopped.

“Unbelievable. Seriously Mammon, you’re—“

“I’m what? Scum? Is that what you’re gonna say?” Mammon cut his brother off with a harsh glare.

“A lowlife and a waste of space!”

Oh damn, that was harsh. Harsher than Gia thought, at least; they knew they were siblings and siblings fought like rabid animals but still.

“Hey, come on that’s even worse!? Mammon whined.

“Whatever, just give me my money.” Levi huffed, “I need to buy the blu ray box set of Journey to the Devildom: The Tale of a Little She-Devil and her Reluctant Companion.” Levi’s expression changed when he talked about the set, you could barely tell he was trying to extort Mammon.

Good lord that name was long. Was it a visual novel adaption? The only TV shows Gia ever saw with names as long as that were always anime adaptations.

“The initial round of copies includes promotional tickets to a live event as a special bonus.”

Oh, that was definitely anime.

Mammon only looked at him with a blank stare, “I’ve got no idea what you’re even talking about, Levi, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t even have any money to give you! How am I supposed to give back money I don’t have?”

Levi’s expression changed back to that sneer, “So then, you refuse to pay me back?” He asked.

“You looking for a fight, is that it?”

Fuck that! Gia did not want those two fighting in their room, they just got it for god’s sake. Not to mention their bickering got annoying.

“Hey, wait!” Gia put themself between the demons, not the smartest move but whatever, “If you’re gonna fight, then do it someplace that isn’t my room.”

Mammon ignored them,only putting on a mock heroic smile, “Listen human. You remember my advice from before? Well, you’re about to witness that for real. So…”

He took off running.

He fucking took off running. He had a bit of a limp from getting kicked in the kneecaps but he was still running. That bastard.

“Time for you to die, because it’s either you or me and it ain’t gonna be me!” He called back to them.

“You fucker! I’m gonna come back and haunt your ass!” Gia snapped before punching a wall. If they lived through this they were gonna make him hurt.

“Wh..damn it, Mammon!” Levi spat.

“I know! That fucking dickhead, I’m gonna beat his ass later!” Gia agreed, but Levi didn’t say anything to them, only looking down at them as if they were a bug or something. Gia suddenly got the distinct feeling that she would not be met with the bare minimum hospitality Asmodeus and Satan gave them.

“Do you even realize what happened? Mammon used you as a distraction to get away from me.” He said, “Or maybe I should say he used you as a sacrifice.”

“You don’t need to rub it in.”

“I admit Mammon is the scummiest scumbag you’ll ever meet...But still, that was pretty dumb of you letting him use you like that.”

Why was Gia getting blamed!? They didn’t know Mammon would just take off!

He sighed, “This is exactly why humans are-wait a second…”

“Uh, no, lets not do that.” Gia snapped, their already thin patience was running thinner, “Humans are what now!?” They took a step closer to the avatar of envy, glaring up at him. First they were kidnapped, then forced to stay here, then almost mugged, then left for dead, and now this asshole was just being xenophobic! They were tired!

“Out with it! If you have something to say then say it!” Gia snapped.

Levi was taken aback, staring at them slack jawed and wide eyes like a fool. Had no one ever had the guts to talk to him like that or…?

He mumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“You’re just like Taiga! The Palmtop Tiger! F-from Toradora!” He exclaimed.

“Wha…?”

Toradora? Gia hadn’t heard that name in years.

“I Mean, a normie like you probably doesn’t know that anime but—“

“I know that anime, though.” Gia cut him off. They did not get made fun of in middle school for watching anime for some demon to call them a normie, “That one’s, like, on every starter list.”

“Woah! You’re not as much of a normie as I thought!” Levi exclaimed happily, “That means you’ll help me with my plan right!? You’re coming with me to my room!”

Without giving Gia a chance to answer Levi grabbed their wrist and began dragging them elsewhere. They cried internally, already missing the super soft, heavenly bed and fluffy pillows.

They were so tired.

Was this their life now? For a whole-ass year?

—— ——

Levi looked around before unlocking his room and (not) discreetly rushing Gia in.

Woah.

Levi’s room was...incredible.

The ceiling was glass and bathed the rest of the room below in blue, the reflections of water danced across the floor. His ceiling was a tank! Gia’s eye excitedly bounced from the anime and manga collections, to the triple monster in the corner, to the floating jellyfish lights, to the bathtub in the dead center. But what really caught their attention was the very back wall, also made of glass. It was also a tank, a beautifully decorated fish tank filled with plant life all seemingly for the one goldfish that swam peacefully around the center.

“For someone who doesn’t even look like an otaku you really-hey what’re you doing?”

Gia ignored him in favor of the tank, wanting to take a closer look at it, stumbling lightly across Levi’s room.

It was even cooler up close, the plants were real and the water was so clean!

“Oh, that’s Henry 2.0, I named him after the protagonist of my favorite book series The Tales of the Seven Lords, or TSL,” Levi explained, coming up next to them, “I bet even a not-so-normie normie like you thinks it’s pretty lame, right?” He asked bitterly, catching Gia off guard.

“What, no!?” They replied, quickly turning to the demon, “Levi, this is amazing! This is the best set up I’ve ever seen for a goldfish, I can’t count how many times I’ve seen them shoved in a barely one gallon tank with zero enrichment!”

“Y-You’re just making fun!” Levi sputtered, avoiding eye contact.

“Why would I make fun of you for taking really good care of your fish? That’s dumb.”

“Whatever! Just because you’re a little less of a normie doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you!” He snapped, “Anyway, I didn’t bring you to tell you about Henry or TSL.”

Yeah no shit, gatekeeping asshole.

“I don’t think there’s any harm in just coming out and saying it: Mammon is a complete and utter scumbag.”

“So I’ve gathered.”

“It’s very important that you understand this, so I’ll say it one more time…”

“You really don’t need to—“

“Mammon is a hopeless, worthless, scumbag!” Levi sneered, “I lent that scumbag money, and now I want him to pay me back. But being the scumbag he is, he won’t do it.”

“Ok.” Gia deadpanned, could he get to the point instead of reiterating Mammon’s scumminess? This was getting annoying.

“I wish I could force him, but despite what a rotten waste of space he is, he’s still the second oldest. As the third oldest, no matter how hard I try, I don’t stand a chance against him…”

Gia’s attention trailed off to the tub in the middle of his room. Oh god was that his bed? That couldn’t possibly be comfortable, Levi’s back had to be killing him! Was that why he was such an ass? Because he was sore all the time from sleeping in a bathtub?

“Are you even listening!?”

“Huh?”

“I said his room is covered in junk! Old, empty cup ramen containers, tissues with dried snot and...and boogers in them! Stuff was strewn everywhere!” Levi shuddered, “ And there Seraphina was, lying on the FLOOR! Tossed aside like a piece of junk!How could he?! That’s no way to treat an ultra rare figure.”

Oh so this was about a figure now?

“ I tried getting back at Mammon for her, I went into his room when he was asleep and tried to beat him up, but when I brought my foot down on his stomach next thing I knew he wasn’t there anymore. It all happened so fast,” he continued, “then he grabbed me and slammed me headfirst into the floor in a pile driver. And the worst was that he was COMPLETELY NAKED!”

Gia had to try and hold back their laughter, the image of a screaming Levi getting the shit kicked out of him by a naked Mammon was too funny. That had to be the most sibling thing they had heard all...day? Night? What time even was it? Come to think of it, how did time work in the Devildom? When they had been spirited away Gia had been getting ready for bed, so was it also night here?

“...Why does he have to sleep in the nude? He could at least put on some underwear. I don’t remember anything else.” He sighed, “ You've seen just how fast he is yourself, haven’t you? No one aside from Lucifer or Beel has that kind of speed. But if, say, a human made a pact with Mammon, and bound him to their service…”

“Wait, you want me to make a pact with him?” Gia asked, “Doesn’t that involve, like, selling my soul? I feel like there are better demons for that.”

“Well, you’re not wrong, but this isn’t about you. This is about me getting my money back from Mammon and you helping me.” Levi huffed. Selfish ass. “Besides, you get the benefit of Mammon having to do whatever you tell him to.”

Oh?

Maybe this whole pact thing wasn’t such a bad idea?

“So you want me to make a pact with Mammon then force him to give you back your money, and I get a demon slave out of it?” Gia asked, Levi nodded.

“For a normie, you catch on fast.”

“I’ve been told. Also don’t call me a normie.” They replied, now deciding to give him a hard time, “You know, I’m not so sure about seeing my soul. Maybe I won’t help you.”

“H-Hey! Don’t go back on me! For some pacts you don’t even need to give up your soul, but you still need to give something to the demon. I know exactly how to negotiate that with Mammon!”

“Hmm?” Gia feigned disinterest, but this is exactly what they wanted to get out of Levi.

“It’s goldie, his credit card. Lucifer took it and hid it. Find that, and Mammon will do whatever you want.” Levi explained quickly.

“Well, Levi…” Gia said, a sly smile growing on their face, “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“....Your smile’s creepy. Stop it.”

What a fucking asshole.

#🏩self insert🏩#obey me shall we date #self insert writing #self ship writing

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sarah-snook · 5 years ago

Text

How to Know If You're On a Date With Your Best Friend

Read on AO3

Summary:

He could see the way Richie looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, eyes slowly widening as he realized Eddie was coming over to sit next to him. Plopping down on the seat, he pushed Richie further into the booth, making himself comfortable. Without breaking eye contact, he placed his straw in Richie’s milkshake glass and asked, “Are we on a date right now?”

Eddie smiled, chin resting on his hand as he listened to Richie rave about the movie they had just finished watching. In all honesty, he hadn’t even been paying much attention to it, so everything he was telling Eddie was more like a recap of what he had missed. All he had been able to focus on was the way their hands kept brushing against each other as they both reached into the popcorn tub at the same time.

It wasn’t like this had been his first time watching a movie alone with Richie. It wasn’t the first time their arms had been pressed against one another on the shared arm rest, neither one of them relenting to the other, too stubborn to let the other win. It wasn’t even the first time Richie had put his arm around Eddie—finally leaving him the arm rest, might he add—during a movie.

It was, however, the first time the two had gone out together since Eddie had realized he had feelings™ for his best friend. It was the first time he had felt nervous by the slightest accidental touch of hands, or any skin-to-skin contact really, and the first time he had actually wanted Richie to put his arms around him.

“Eds, are you listening?” Richie questioned, as he waved a hand in front of Eddie’s face. “Don’t tell me you just tuned me out this whole time!”

Eddie blinked, faint blush spreading across his cheeks as he slowly came back to reality. He had been so engrossed in thoughts about the boy in front of him that he hadn’t realized he’d stopped paying attention to his ramblings. Quickly, he scrambled for an excuse and said, “Sorry Rich! I’m just so hungry I got a little distracted!”

He reached to pick up the menu in front of him, hiding behind it as he pretended to think about what he wanted. Eddie didn’t actually have to look. He’d been to this diner enough times with Richie and the other losers, to know what he wanted, what he ordered every time.

“You’re kidding, right?” Richie said as he reached over to pull the menu back down onto the table. “You always get the same thing Eds. Why bother pretending like you’re gonna order something different?”

“I’m not pretending Richie,” Eddie said as he pouted, crossing his arms defensively. “What makes you so sure that I didn’t want to try anything new tonight?”

Richie stared at him, eyebrows raised suggestively as his mouth began to spread into a wide grin. “You just handed me a perfect line and I could totally make a dirty joke out of it. But I won’t, because I’m trying to be nice tonight.”

Eddie gasped, feigning shock. “Richard “The Trashmouth” Tozier? Being nice???” He pretended to think about it, before he giggled and said, “Less likely than you think!”

“Hey, you jerk! It’s more likely!” Richie laughed along with him. “Keep this up and I’m not buying you a milkshake!”

Eddie stopped laughing at this, looking at Richie with a confused expression on his face. He couldn’t help but focus on the way those words made him feel—like this was something more than just friends hanging out. He refused to dwell too long on that impossible fantasy, though, and instead rolled his eyes at the boy in front of him. “Oh no, that’s so tragic! Whatever will I do now?? Oh, that’s right! Buy my own like I was going to do anyway.”

Richie seemed to deflate a little at Eddie’s comment, but he continued to chuckle lightly, the playful look in his eyes changing to something Eddie wasn’t sure he could properly decipher. ‘Was it disappointment? Nah, couldn’t be.’

Even so, the change in behavior worried Eddie and he frowned, eyebrows furrowed as his hand reached out to grasp the other boy’s. Before he could get a chance to ask what was wrong, he jumped at the sound of their waitress finally coming up to their table, smiling and unaware of the growing tension—if you could call it that—between the two of them.

“Your usuals again tonight boys?” she asked with a grin on her face, not bothering to take out her order pad.

Before Eddie could respond, Richie winked at her, handed back their menus, and said, “You got it, Linda!”. With one last smile, the waitress nodded and left just as quickly as she came, once again leaving them alone.

Eddie played with the straw in his cup, staring at it as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. He was unwilling to look Richie in the eyes, not yet. If he didn’t look, he could pretend for one second more that this was an actual date—that Richie had ordered for him like he’d seen men do for women millions of times in the romantic movies Bev would often force them all to watch.

“Thought you wanted something different,” Richie’s teasing tone made Eddie snap his head up and stare at the curly-haired boy in surprise.

“I- well, you kind of went ahead and ordered for me,” he defended, a pout once again beginning to form on his face.

“Relaaaax Eds, I’m just...just messing around,” Richie said as he put his hands out in front of himself in defense. “No need to get your panties in a- I mean, yeah, sorry, I just figured you’d prefer your usual, jokes aside.”

Richie sounded nervous now. Eddie could feel something different, something that had changed in his attitude towards Eddie. He was trying to be playful with him, a tamer version of his usual self. ‘Jokes aside’ kept repeating in Eddie’s head until suddenly, it clicked, and he realized that Richie had not made a single mom joke that night. In fact, he hadn’t called him anything other than Eds, which was something he was surprised he hadn't picked up on earlier.

Eddie ignored this revelation and continued to talk and laugh with Richie as usual. They talked about their friends, school—anything and everything really—as if nothing between them had changed. Well, really, nothing had changed. Eddie noticing Richie’s less than normal behavior didn’t mean anything had changed at all. Eddie knew that change would only happen once one of them actually acknowledged what was going on tonight. ‘God, how many times will the word change cross my mind tonight?’

They sipped on their milkshakes, their usual after dinner ritual, as the conversation between them finally died down. Suddenly, Eddie wasn’t sure what to say or how to act. This was typically the part where they would share their drinks, mixing Richie’s chocolate and Eddie’s strawberry to create what Richie called their special ChocoBerry Milkshakes™.

Eddie smiled at the memory of the day this tradition started, remembering the way he’d told Richie how much he hated that name. ‘I’m such a fucking liar,’ he thought to himself as he peaked over at Richie.

Eddie loved it. He loved whenever Richie made something their thing, something they could both share and call their own. He, however, would never admit that to Richie, not in a million years. As Richie looked up from his own drink, Eddie averted his eyes, pretending to find the salt shaker on the table very interesting.

“What’s up Eds?” Richie questioned as he lightly nudged Eddie’s ankle with his foot. “Your face looks like you’re constipated, which usually means you’re worrying about something.”

“I’m not—” Eddie paused, attempting to relax his face as he nudged back at Richie’s foot with his own. “I’m fine, just—nothing. It’s nothing.”

Eddie could feel the way Richie was staring at him, willing him to look at him. When he wouldn’t, Richie grabbed Eddie’s milkshake and dumped it into his own glass. Eddie didn’t respond, despite his annoyance, and continued to stare at the salt shaker on the table. “You’re really not going to tell me what’s wrong?” Richie asked as he began to mix the contents of his glass. “This is the worst d—”

At Richie’s words, Eddie’s eyes snapped up to look at him. His heart began to race as his mind began to repeat the word he was hoping Richie had been about to say. ‘Date...Date...Date? Just fucking ask him. Why is that so hard for you to do?’ He struggled with himself for a moment, debating whether he should just lay it all out and ask the question that could change everything between them.

“Richie…” Eddie began as he continued to look at Richie’s face, now the one willing him to look over and meet his gaze. Richie’s cheeks were slightly flushed as he refused to do so, continuing to mix the milkshake in his glass. Eddie huffed, rolling his eyes and grabbing the straw from his now empty glass. Without further thought, before he could chicken out, he suddenly got up from the table, finally getting Richie’s attention.

Eddie watched carefully as Richie drew in a sharp breath and stood still, gradually raising his head to meet Eddie's eyes. He could see the way Richie was debating what to say, could see the way he was leaning towards making a joke he knew could have the potential to anger Eddie and make him drop the subject.

This time though, this time it wouldn't work because Eddie was determined. Determined to get an answer to the question that had been eating away at him since he first realized Richie had been acting differently. He reached out, fingers softly grazing the hand Richie was using to hold onto the milkshake glass. He could feel the way Richie’s hand twitched, shocked at the contact, before he gripped the glass a little tighter. “Why, are you going to pay if I say it is?”

Eddie smiled wide at this, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth as he began to laugh. “Excuse me? You’re the one that said you were going to buy me a milkshake earlier!”

“Oh, so you want this to be a date so I’ll pay?” Richie shot back as he grinned at Eddie. He was no longer nervous, and Eddie sighed in relief at this.

“Come on Rich,” Eddie pleaded, looking at him fondly. “Answer the Question. Please.”

“I mean, yeah I—” Richie sighed as he ran his hand through his unruly hair. “Yeah, it’s a date.”

“Okay.” Eddie said simply, pulling the glass closer to himself and taking a sip of the mixed milkshake.

“Okay?” Richie questioned, staring at Eddie’s hand which was still holding on to his around the milkshake. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means okay,” Eddie shrugged with a soft smile on his lips. “It means this is officially a date, if you still want it to be.”

“Of course I do Eds!” He said excitedly, scooting closer to Eddie. Richie smiled at him and Eddie could feel the fluttering feeling of butterflies in his stomach. He loved this Richie. This happy over the moon Richie that got so excited that he would start rambling and fidgeting with uncontrollable energy. He loved this Richie that seemed so genuinely happy to be on a date with him, that got so flustered over asking him on a date in the first place.

He loved Richie. He had always loved Richie. As a friend, as something more. Eddie knew Richie loved him too, he just didn’t realize that it was as more than best friends. As they both finished up the milkshake, Eddie couldn’t help but wonder how things would be from now on. ‘Are we boyfriends now? Should I ask?’

Eddie’s thoughts were interrupted when he felt an arm snake it’s way around his shoulders, pulling him close to the boy beside him. “You’re doing it again. The thinking.”

“It’s what people usually do,” Eddie joked. “I know you don’t do it often but it is a thing people—”

Eddie’s words were cut short as Richie gently grabbed his chin, tilting his head towards him. His eyes widened as Richie’s face got closer and closer before Richie suddenly paused and said, “Is...Is this ok?”

He didn’t respond, only smiled at Richie before moving forward until their lips met in a gentle and—despite Richie’s chapped lips—soft kiss. He smiled into it and Richie pulled back, still holding on to his chin as he looked into his eyes, making Eddie’s stomach flip.

Before Eddie could say anything, the sound of a throat clearing made both of them jump and pull away. Linda stood there, wide grin on her face as she held the check out to both of them. Richie reached over to take it and as he did, Eddie used it as an opportunity to get impossibly closer to Richie and whisper in his ear, “So, you’re paying for this date then right?”

====

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#reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #reddie fic #dianawritesfic #idiots in love omg #my writing #i'm back babeyyy

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acdeaky · 4 years ago

Text

bad liar | III

warning: angst, little bit of fluff, strong language

note: there is a part at the beginning about star wars, but even if you’ve never seen it, please don’t skip it bc it’s important to the story! thanks and enjoy :))

word count: 1.4k

black lives matter

“so you’re telling me that you’ve never watched star wars?”

“no, i haven’t,” ben laughed, watching as you face turned from excitement to completely shock. “why’s it such a big deal?”

“why’s it such a big deal? star wars has given us, like, four cultural resets in the past 50 years, and is just an amazing film series.” you argued as you got up off of the sofa, heading towards ben’s kitchen to grab a bag of popcorn.

“four cultural resets? really? that many?” he teased, turning his body to the side to watch you over the back of the sofa.

“yes, ben, that many. there’s the original trilogy, the prequel trilogy, the sequel trilogy and the mandalorian.”

“the mandalorian?”

“the mandalorian,” you sighed, sitting back down next to ben while grabbing the remote. he took the bowl of popcorn from off your lap and into his as you found disney plus. “you know, the one with pedro pascal? that series?”

“oh, yeh,” came his muffled reply. “i think i remember hearing about it.”

“well, you won’t be able to watch it until after return of the jedi.” was all you said as you found the phantom menace and pressed play.

“and which trilogy is that in?”

“the original.”

“so i won’t have to wait too long to watch it.” only if he knew.

“yeh, you do,” you giggle, turning to face him completely as his face dropped. “it’s the original trilogy, but we’re watching them in chronological order of the story.”

“so how many films is there between the beginning and the mandalorian?”

“about eight.”

“eight?” ben asked in disbelief, watching your face for any tell-tale signs of you lying.

“yeh, eight. there’s the prequel and the original triology and then there’s solo and rogue one.”

“i cannot believe i agreed to this.” he huffed, completely leaning back into the cushions of the sofa.

“but you did, so let’s go.” just as you said that, the iconic orchestral piece of the star wars theme played through the speakers. you leaned back and moved slightly closer to ben, moving so you were comfortable before grabbing a handful of popcorn.

without you knowing, ben watched you as the credits rolled, seeing your eyes flick over the written synopsis of the movie like you haven’t seen it hundreds of times. he smiled subconsciously, his brain choosing that now would be the best time for his heart to thud against his chest and send a light blush up his neck and cheeks.

seeing you here and like this, in your element, was something ben loved. god, he would do anything, watch anything, listen to anything, if it meant that he would be with you and it would make you happy.

without realising, ben was falling in love with you, but he never knew that he would have a chance.

***

it wasn’t the pounding on the door that scared you, nor was it the coolness of the floor beneath you, but the reminder of last night. the tears, the sobs, more like. ben showing up unannounced. the emotion, the overwhelming nature of the situation. the half eaten tub of ice cream. the TV.

the TV.

surely enough, it was still playing in the near distance, but that wasn’t the biggest thought inside your mind as a second knock brought you back to the wooden floor beneath you.

you used the wall to help you up, looking at the mirror hanging on the wall to check how awful you looked; at least nothing was fresh, except for the pain.

just as the person on the other side rised their knuckle to rap against the door again, you clicked the lock, opening the door to be greeted by a hand in your face.

“oh, gosh, i’m sorry, miss. here’s your parcel.” right. the parcel you ordered yesterday as a ‘feeling sorry for yourself’ purchase. as you took the box out of the person’s hands and signed the tablet, shutting the door before they had even turned away, you felt shitter than you did when you woke up.

just the thought of what was in the box brought back last night and everything about it. but as you threw it onto your sofa with little care, it reminded you of one of the good nights. a good night with ben. the day you invited yourself over to his and forced him to watch every single star wars film, which was also the day you realised you were falling in love with him.

all that was in the box was a stupid figurine of ben’s favourite character (one you had (sub)consciously choosen to buy) and you couldn’t find it in yourself to open it. you couldn’t find it in yourself to open the box and be reminded of a time when things weren’t complicated. a time when your feelings were submerged by other things.

a time when you were certain with yourself and your feelings that you let your heart control everything.

but none of that mattered now. you ignored the glares you felt from the box, leaving it be where it landed. you switched off the TV, threw away the ice cream (tub and all) and decided the best thing to do to shower.

yes; a nice, warm shower would wash away the bad night. well, it would wash away the tears, the sweat and, hopefully, the backache from sleeping on the floor all night.

the first thing you noticed (after your shower) was your phone was dead. what you dreaded the most was the many missed calls and texts from ben, or anyone, which you would inevitably have to reply to. you found there was a few: a couple of texts saying sorry, a few voicemails which you debated listening to; you weren’t sure if you could handle another heartbreak.

so you didn’t. you left them unopened, as you did the texts, and got dressed, throwing on whatever felt the most comfy for another day of wallowing in self-pity.

you debated calling joe, or gwil, just to have someone to talk to about all this. but you decided against it, not wanting to pull other people into the breaking of two hearts. it didn’t matter to then. well, not personally anyway, but both joe and gwil would have been there for you, and for ben, if you had let them.

but you didn’t, and that’s how it stayed. you opened a new tub of ice cream (only after eating something that would be classed as a meal) and sat in the same position as the night before, the same crappy TV playing in front of you.

you were about three episodes in when the phone began to ring. you didn’t even bother looking at the caller-ID, knowing that you would just be ignoring them anyway. the phone completed it’s ring before the automated voicemail began to speak. when it beeped, you paused the TV.

“hi, Y/N, it’s me, ben. i’m guessing you didn’t answering because you saw it was me... or your phone’s dead... or you just aren’t answering any calls - which is understandable. i just wanted to apologise for last night; me coming over was stupid and greedy and selfish, but i had to see you. i had to see if you were hurting as much as i was when you ended this ‘relationship’.

“i’m sorry i put you under so much pressure, but i hoped that if you felt that way, that you’d talk to me... obviously i was wrong. and i want to apologise for everything: the relationship, the press, the unwanted feelings; i felt them, too. hell, i’ve felt a lot of things for you over the past few months, but i’ve been too afraid to say anything. and yet, here i am, pouring my heart out on voicemail.

“god, you’re probably not even gonna listen to this. your phone’s probably in your room on silent while you watch crappy TV and eat your weight in ice cream. which is fine, i’d do the same if i was with you. but i’m not with you, and that’s the hardest part. if, by some chance you’re hearing this, please pick up. i want to make things right, i want to tell you things i’ve been wanting to say for months, i want to-”

“hello? ben?” you picked up to silence. as soon as you answered, ben stood still, thinking this wasn’t going to happen, that you wouldn’t have answered.

but you did.

“ben? you okay?”

“i-”

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#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy fic #ben jones #bohemian rhapsody #bad liar series #x reader #acdeaky

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emospritelet · 5 years ago

Note

Twisted Fate prompt 78) “I love you.” “You shouldn’t.”

These prompts have been sitting in my inbox since last August XD. I’m sorry, it took ages for these two to actually start talking about their issues.

[AO3]

Belle had known that a broken arm would be tricky to manage, but she hadn’t realised how helpless she was without Gold around to assist her. Getting dressed was the first obstacle, and she struggled to get out of her nightdress and into her underwear. She discarded any thought of attempting to put on a bra, and after weighing her options, decided on simple sweatpants, a camisole and cardigan. Even brushing her hair with her left hand took some getting used to.

He had left early, so quietly that she hadn’t heard him go, but when she entered the kitchen she found the coffee maker ready to go with decaf, the lid off the tea canister and cooked sliced mushrooms and onions alongside a plate of grated cheese and a bowl containing beaten eggs. The makings of an omelette. It made her smile.

She managed to make the omelette, although it wasn’t about to win any prizes for looks by the time it was on her plate, and ate it at the table with some tea, following it up with decaf coffee and one of the oat and raisin cookies he had made the previous day. Checking the fridge made her smile again; he had portioned up the food he had cooked, glass dishes containing macaroni cheese all ready to go in the oven and beef in red wine in plastic tubs ready for the microwave or to be tipped into a pan.

She spent her day reading and relaxing, rubbing her belly whenever the baby kicked. It was starting to get more uncomfortable the closer she got to her due date. She tried to look ahead six months, when the baby was on the outside, crawling around the apartment. Would Gold still be there? Probably not; she imagined he would move into his own place as soon as her arm was healed, seeing the baby according to the terms in the thick sheaf of documents that she had still not signed. The thought made her feel incredibly lonely.

Emma popped in to see her at lunchtime only briefly, staying for a cup of cocoa and helping her to tie up her hair. She promised to return after class with Neal and Henry, and so by six-thirty they were all seated around the kitchen table, eating their way through Gold’s macaroni cheese.

“This is so good,” said Henry, scraping his plate. “It’s got about a ton of cheese in it. Mom, you should make it like this next time.”

“Thanks,” said Emma dryly. “I thought you liked my mac and cheese.”

“I do, but you always say ‘is that enough cheese’ and I feel like I have to say yes, and it never is.”

“Wow - thanks for the honesty, I guess,” remarked Emma, taking a drink of her wine. Belle and Neal chuckled.

“You can tell Gold it was a hit,” added Neal, digging a fork into his own food. “It’s comforting. Kinda tastes like home, you know?”

“He’s an annoyingly good cook,” said Belle, in a flat tone.

“Why, that sneaky son of a—” Neal glanced at Henry. “Uh - well, you know what I mean. Belle, somehow I doubt it’s all part of an evil scheme. Maybe he just thinks you need to eat some good food.”

“Yeah, I know I sound unreasonable,” she sighed. “I don’t know where my brain’s at right now. This morning I was wondering how the hell I’d cope on my own, and - and that maybe I’ll miss him when he’s not here and it’s just me and the baby. It’s - it’s like I resent the fact that he’s stepping up, and I don’t really understand it. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being emotional.”

She poked at her food, feeling despondent.

“You resent that he’s making you feel things?” said Emma, with a knowing look in her eyes, and Belle pulled a face.

“Maybe.”

“Can’t be angry with him anymore, and you still feel like you should be?”

Belle put down her fork.

“Okay, did you take psych class today or something?”

Emma put a hand over hers, grinning.

“I get it, that’s all,” she said. “Don’t get too hung up on what you think you should be feeling. Do whatever’s best for making you happy.”

Belle thought about that for a moment.

“I’m not sure what that is,” she said eventually, and Emma shrugged.

“Give it time.”

There was silence except for the scraping of plates while they finished up, and Neal offered to wash up. Dessert was ice cream, brought by Emma, and Henry went to eat his in front of the TV while Neal dried the dishes and Emma finished her wine.

“Do either of you want coffee?” asked Belle. “You’ll probably have to help me make it, but you’re welcome.”

“I could use one,” said Neal, over his shoulder. “Let me make it. You want one?”

“I’ll have tea. Peppermint, I think. The baby’s been kicking so much today it gives me heartburn.”

He dried his hands, and Belle pushed back her chair to go to the bathroom. When she got back the coffee maker was running, and Neal had taken Gold’s old toy rabbit from its place on the shelf beside the fridge. He had a puzzled look on his face as he turned the rabbit over and over in his hands, and Belle was reminded of Gold, and the way he had studied it.

“Where’d you get this?” he asked.

“Oh, it belongs to Alex,” she said. “It’s not for the baby, or anything. It belonged to his son.”

Neal looked up.

“He had a kid?”

“Still does, apparently,” said Belle. “They kind of lost touch.”

“How long ago?” asked Emma.

“I think he said his son was two. It was years ago. I’m - I’m not sure how much he really wants me to talk about it. If at all.”

“Oh. Okay.” Emma looked thoughtful. “But he talked to you about it. That’s good, right?”

“Yeah.” Belle took her seat. “He brought the rabbit with him when he moved in, and although I’d seen it before in his shop, I hadn’t thought anything of it. So I asked him. He was - he was probably the most open he’s been with me. I think it made him uncomfortable.”

“Well, practice makes perfect.”

“Yeah.” Belle reached for her peppermint tea. “Here’s hoping for more of that.”

“Does it make you feel better about how he’ll be with the baby?” asked Neal. “I’m not prying into the guy’s private business, but maybe if he’s had a kid and you know that he loved that kid, it might make you feel a bit easier about this one, you know?”

Belle thought for a moment.

“Yeah, he definitely loves his son,” she said. “I could see it in his eyes. It was kind of heartbreaking, to be honest. So yes, I do think he’ll love our child. I - I think he already does.”

“Have you guys talked about how you’ll divide up caring for the baby?”

“No.” Belle ran her hands over her face, huffing air through her fingers. “He went to his lawyer. Drew up a huge document that I can’t face reading through and told me to get some legal advice.”

“He’s right to say that.”

“I know.” Belle sat back in her chair with a sigh. “I just - I just can’t at the moment. Every time I think about our lives being tied up in clauses and sub-clauses and stupid legal terms, I want to cry.”

Neal and Emma shared a glance.

“Well, I guess since he’s living with you at the moment, there’s no rush,” said Emma reasonably.

“Yeah, plenty of time to lawyer up when he moves out,” added Neal.

“Yeah.”

Belle picked up her tea, feeling subdued, and there was a moment of silence.

“Maybe we can make Fridays a thing,” suggested Emma. “He said he’d be in Maine every week, so we could come over and keep you company.”

“I don’t know if he’ll stick to Fridays.”

“He said he had an appointment to keep,” said Emma. “Said it would be every Friday.”

“An appointment?” Belle frowned. “He never mentioned it. I know he has rent to collect, but I thought he was getting someone to do that for him.”

“Huh. Well, it’s only a suggestion.”

“No, it’s a good one,” said Belle. “I’ll ask him what his plans are.”

“Sounds good.” Emma took a slurp of coffee. “Okay, who’s up for a game of cards? Loser buys dessert next week.”

Gold returned when it was almost ten, looking drained and tired, although he greeted her pleasantly. Belle found herself wanting to make him tea and feed him something, and felt a little useless when he insisted on seeing to himself. He made her chamomile tea, and regular tea for himself, along with a sandwich that he made short work of in the kitchen before bringing his tea through to the lounge. She was curled in a chair, a book tented on the arm as she sipped at her drink, and he lowered himself onto the couch, perching on the edge with his elbows resting on his knees, an aura of tension hanging around him.

“How was your day?” he asked. “Did you manage everything okay? Did your friends come over?”

“Yeah, it was fine,” she said. “Your mac and cheese was a hit, by the way. Henry thought it was awesome.”

He smiled faintly.

“Good.”

“We talked about making it a regular Friday night get-together,” she added. “But I wasn’t sure if we could, what with your work thing.”

“My work thing?” said Gold, looking confused.

“Emma said you had a regular appointment in Maine,” she prompted. “So I was wondering if that was gonna be every Friday or not.”

Gold hesitated only briefly.

“I can go every Friday, if that makes it easier for you to organise things.”

“Good.” She took a sip of her drink. “In that case I’ll ask them to come over for movies and popcorn. It’ll be nice to have some company.”

“Right,” he said. “Yes.”

“Which means the rest of the week, we have each other for company,” she said, keeping her tone light. “Which we should make the most of, don’t you think?”

His eyes narrowed a little.

“In what way?”

“I - I thought maybe we could talk some more,” she said. “I thought - well, the conversation we had the other night. I thought that was - useful.”

Gold held her gaze steadily for a moment, then looked away, elbows shifting on his knees, fingers threaded together.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, it felt like - progress.”

She could sense his awkwardness, and felt the urge to reach out to him, to send him some sort of comfort, even as she battled with her own anxiety, her own hurt.

“So, we should talk,” she went on. “Clear the air. If you’re willing.”

There was a moment of silence, and his jaw tightened a little, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“Alright,” he said at last.

Belle set down her tea, letting her feet slip to the floor as she sat forward a little, instinctively moving closer to him, bridging the space between them until their knees were almost touching. She could hear the light sound of him breathing through his nose, and the faintest scent of him was in the air, making her want to close her eyes and inhale deeply.

“I meant it,” she said softly. “What I said the other night, before the accident. I meant it. I love you.”

His mouth was set in a grim line, his eyes downcast as his head shook slightly: the barest denial.

“You shouldn’t.”

Belle sighed, sitting back.

“That’s not how this works,” she said. “That’s not how any of this works. You can’t just tell someone not to love you.”

He was silent, not looking at her, and she shook her head.

“I wanted to hate you, you know,” she admitted. “There were times when I feel like I wish I could hurt you like you hurt me, but I know that if I had the chance I wouldn’t do it.”

“Of course not,” he said quietly. “That’s not who you are.”

“Oh, I have my moments,” she said. “Pretty sure I’ve cursed you out a hundred times since we broke up.”

“Well, I imagine I deserved it.”

“Yeah.”

She looked at her hands, folded together in her lap, and there was a moment of silence. Glancing up, she could see that Gold’s attention was on the floor at his feet, the space between the toes of his shoes. She wondered what he was thinking.

“I was so hurt, for so long,” she said. “Devastated. And - and after that I got angry. Maybe I still am, I don’t know. I - I keep thinking irrational things, and I don’t always realise that I’m being unreasonable.”

“I don’t think you’re unreasonable,” he said, and took a deep breath. “You said you didn’t trust me. That - that stayed with me, Belle. I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “Right.”

“There again, given what I did,” he went on. “I - ah - I don’t suppose I’ve given you much reason to.”

More silence, but somehow it was deafening, as though the space between them was screaming at her. She had to speak, to bridge the gap, to voice her pain.

“You know, that was the worst of it,” she said softly. “Not the things you said, so much, awful though they were. It was more that you felt you could say them. Maybe I’m not making sense, I don’t know…”

He looked up then, his eyes warm, filled with what might have been pain and regret.

“Tell me,” he said. “I need to hear it.”

Belle chewed her lip, trying to organise her thoughts.

“I thought I knew you,” she said. “You didn’t give me much to work with, don’t get me wrong, but the little I got made me think that you - cared - for me. And - and that was okay, because even though you never said it, I felt it. I knew.”

She paused, choosing her words. His mouth had twisted a little, pain etched in the lines around his eyes.

“I’ve always felt that I have a sense about people,” she said. “That I can see past the surface, see what’s inside. So when you did what you did, not only did I realise that I didn’t know you, but it was like I lost my sense of who I was, too.”

Gold nodded slowly.

“Like you couldn’t trust your instincts,” he said. “Couldn’t trust yourself.”

“I - I guess so.”

“Yes.” He dropped his eyes again so that he wasn’t quite looking at her, but at his fingers, laced together. “And that’s why you can’t trust me, either.”

“Uh…” She shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah.”

Gold nodded.

“I understand,” he whispered.

“I want to,” she added. “I want to trust you. I hate this - all of this - between us.” She gestured with a hand, back and forth. “I want it to be better. I do.”

Gold looked up again, smiling a little.

“So do I,” he said. “I’m trying, Belle. I - I know it might not feel like it, but I am.”

He dropped his eyes again, but she sensed he still had more to say, so she remained silent. Gold opened his mouth, looking a little pained.

“It - it wasn’t work,” he said hesitantly, and Belle frowned.

“What?”

“In Storybrooke,” he said. “I said I had to go there for work. That was only partly true. I can sort out the things I need to for my business remotely, I don’t need to go there.”

Belle blinked, surprised.

“Oh,” she said.

More silence. She held her tongue, waiting for him to fill it, and Gold took a breath, his brows lifting a little in the middle, giving him an anxious, somewhat helpless expression.

“I’m going to Storybrooke each Friday because I have a regular appointment,” he said heavily. “To see Dr Hopper. For - for therapy.”

“Therapy?” Belle felt her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Really.”

He caught her eyes very briefly with his before ducking his head again. She wanted to smile, a sense of relief flooding through her. Finally. Finally he asked for help.

“How’s it going?” she asked, and he sighed, that helpless look briefly returning.

“Well, it’s early days,” he said. “It’s - it’s not easy. But there again nothing worthwhile is, so they say. I’m going to keep trying. He’s - I think he’s probably very good at his job.”

“Yeah.” Bless Dr Hopper. If anyone can help, he can. “Well, I’m proud of you.”

Gold looked up sharply, a stricken expression on his face, and she smiled warmly.

“I really am,” she said sincerely. “I’m proud of you. I know how hard it must be to ask for help. It - it makes me feel like you’re really serious about making things better.”

A flicker of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

“I am,” he said. “I promise.”

He held her gaze for a moment, that tiny smile making his eyes gleam. It reminded her of happier times, and there was a lurch deep in her belly at the memories. Gold eventually glanced away.

“We should go to bed,” he said, and threw up a hand as Belle raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I - I didn’t mean we should go to bed, although - okay I did mean that, but I didn’t mean together, I meant - I meant to sleep, that’s all. I meant – oh fuck it, I’ll shut up.”

He sighed, letting the hand drop, and Belle giggled a little, eyes sparkling.

“Sleep sounds good,” she said, and he smiled.

“Right,” he said. “Well.”

He pushed to his feet, grasping his cane and holding out a hand to pull her up. Belle swayed in his grip a little, smiling up at him.

“Goodnight, Alexander,” she said softly.

“Goodnight.”

She let her hand slip from his, picking up her tea and making her way towards the bedroom, feeling his eyes on her back. Slowly, very slowly, they were making progress.

#fic: twisted fate #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #my fic #mrs-stiltskin #thespinningmeanie

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katsukikitten · 5 years ago

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Spicy Ramen

"You know Bakugou has a crush on you right?" Mina says as she braids your hair.

"What?!" You laugh, "No...no he doesn't."

He can't have a crush on you considering how hard he glares at you when you laugh or how hard he hits you during practice.

Plus it would be an unrequited crush as you had no interest in an arrogant asshat who was far too self centered to be a hero.

In fact you saw his infinate temper as a major flaw, one that reminded you too much of a villain.

Still even in the safe haven of pink walls and bold bed spreads you could feel his eyes on your skin. You shudder whether it be from pleasure or fear you are unsure.

"Please you've seen the way he looks at Y/N right Momo-chan?" Mina pulls tightly on your hair.

"Hey!"

"Yes, he doesn't watch too many people." Momo comments as she rewrites her notes from today's class, "Come to think..."

She taps the mechanical pencil with a flame and ice charm to her lips as she ponders.

"Don't say it."

"He really only watches you now." She shrugs going back to her notes, "Guess he's figured everyone else out."

"I don't think that's why at all." Mina giggles finishing your hair. You pout angirly, cheeks burning from the thought of him liking you.

"He can't like me! He's a self centered prick!" You point out, pulling up your shirt to reveal a nasty bruise on your stomach. "Plus would you hit your crush this hard?"

The girls lean in close to inspect and Uraraka scrunches up her nose.

"Yikes." Jhiro comments, changing the song with her earplug.

"Yea you're telling me. Mother fucker hits hard! I hate being paired with him." You grumble, reaching for the popcorn the giant pink bowl, "I'd much rather be paired with Todoroki."

You try to keep the blush from your cheeks as Momo's eyes pause on you.

"He's a gentlemen and pulls some of his punches." You offer, locking eyes with your friend. She sighs and continues her busy work.

"But I thought you hated when people held back." Uraraka san states, "Plus Bakugou fights everyone that way. He knows you're capable."

"There is one thing that he does just for you though. Have you noticed yet?" Mina sing songs capturing the rest of the girls attention.

"He doesn't do anything special for me.

"Oh yea? When it's his turn to cook dinner what does he cook almost every time?"

"Pork tonkatsu."

"And what's your favorite dish?"

"Pork tonkatsu." You say dryly.

You pause as you mull it over. Had it really been pork tonkatsu everytime he cooked?

And had he always put extra soy sauce in your rice for you?

"That doesn't prove anything." You say swiping at Mina's smirk, "It could be his favorite dish too."

"Yea and Howls Moving Castle just happens to be his favorite movie too then huh?"

"No he says it's the only thing on on his movie night and it makes him angry. He doesn't even stay to watch it." You protest, a vivid memory of him sucking his teeth as he slams the remote onto your lap.

*"Dumbass movie."*

They all give you a pointed look.

One that screams how can you be so dense.

"He just sits where you can't see." Mina adds, "He grabs his chair from his room so you can have more space on the couch to tuck your hips and feet."

You stare at the girls bewildered, had he done these nice things for you?

Didn't he fold everyone's clean towel and place it on their bed when he had to do laundry?

Didn't he always like the same icecream as you? Isn't that why he always brought back a large tub of chocolate cookie dough when he went shopping so your "fatass" wouldn't eat it all?

Didn't he always wait for someone lingering in the class room when it got dark early on campus to walk them home?

Hadn't he always made a study guide that he claimed was too complicated for Kirishima to give away to anyone who was around?

More often than not it was you with the folded towels while everyone else's was thrown onto their bed. You eating the chocolate cookie dough icecream, you he waited for when it got dark and you he gave the study guide to with a grimace on his face and tinged cheeks.

Suddenly your whole face burned all the way to the tips of your ears as all of the girls smiled towards you.

"If you don't believe me, I'll get Eji to come in and attest how Bakugou feels about you." Mina let's it sink in as your world feels like its falling away beneath your feet.

Bakugou wasn't your crush, Todoroki was!

So why was your heart racing out of your chest over all of the small things you had missed?

All the small things Todoroki did for Momo that you had wished he'd done for you.

It was staring you in the face today wasn't it?

Those crimson eyes burning hot rage because yours lingered elsewhere instead of focusing on the fight.

No it couldn't be that? His eyes always burned with rage. Hell that was a core personality trait for him. He didnt fold your towel you got that messed up and the icecream, he ate it too! Hes the one who brought it into the house first and howl's moving castle was a fucking love story.

And he detested love.

You stood.

"I'm going to show you once and for all that Bakugou Katsuki King of Assholes does NOT like me." You left Mina's room. All the girls exchanged looks before following behind you silently.

Testing their covert skills as they watched you storm to the common room at such a late hour.

Where you conveniently knew Bakugou would be watching late night TV to wind down.

When you entered the room he looked at you over his shoulder with sharp eyes.

"No I'm not changing the fucking channel." He growled gripping onto the remote tight enough that it groaned in his grip.

The other girls watch on baited breath.

"What's your favorite part of Howl's moving castle?"

"Of what?" He snaps.

"Don't play stupid Bakugou, I didn't stutter. The movie with the guy who turns into a bird and the girl is cursed." You lean in over the couch keeping your face close to his, furious with it all, "What is your favorite fucking part?"

He's quiet for a long moment he opens his mouth as his color deepens.

"I don't know what fucking dumbass movie you're talking about." He looks back to the TV eyes narrowed.

"Fine." You smile, happy with your work, you look over your shoulder and when you see the girls you've got courage to ask another question to drive it home.

That damnit Bakugou is not interested in you.

"What's your favorite meal?" You ask smugly, chin in hand as his eyes turn to you with annoyance.

"Spicy ramen." He bites out and your face flushes.

"Wh..." Mina's eyes widen with delight as you stutter, "It's...its not pork tonkatsu?"

He laughs sharply.

"No its bland, why do you think I always add so much spice to mine?"

"Then why the fuck do you make it all the time?" You ask astonished. His cheeks flush, he's been caught.

"Do you even like the chocolate cookie dough icecream? Why do you buy it? Why do you wait for me at school? Why is there always a study guide too hard for Eijirou after I don't do so well on an exam?" You huff and he stays silent for a long time before he swallows.

"You really are dense." He sighs bringing his hand to the nape of your neck pushing your face to his. He captures your lips tenderly before it turns into a heated, yearning kiss. When he's done and sure his point is made he let's his grip up enough to hold your gaze.

"My favorite part of Howl's moving castle is how your face lights up when it comes on."

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou katsuki #bnha imagines #bnha katsuki #bnha kacchan #bnha #bnha x reader

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unapologeticallyjaylos · 5 years ago

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descendants 12 days of holidays: holiday movie

title: christmas eve will find me (where the love light gleams)

rating: maybe a few curse words

pairing: jay x carlos ; mal x evie

i really like this one :)

----

“Who do you think about? When this plays?”

“What?”

Carlos pointed up the grocery store ceiling’s speakers, which were playing an incredibly cheesy Christmas love ballad now that Jay actually stopped to listen. “You know, when a love song plays? Apparently everyone thinks of someone subconsciously.”

Jay laughed, pushing their shopping cart down the freezer aisle. “That’s bullshit. I don’t think about anything.”

Their late-night grocery store run to stock their apartment with food was turning into a classic Jay-and-Carlos-buy-lots-of-junk-food-because-they’re-hungry sort of deal - not that he minded. They grabbed a couple tubs of ice cream and tossed them into the cart were bags of popcorn and chips were already being held captive.

“We are definitely not following Auradon’s rule of ‘all the colors on the plate’,” Carlos said in mock disapproval as he surveyed their cart.

Grinning, Jay picked up a red bag of popcorn and a blue bag of salt and vinegar chips. “Really? Because I’m holding two colors right here.”

“You’re a dumbass.” As if to lower himself on Jay’s level, Carlos pushed the cart a bit and stepped up onto the back ledge, riding it down the empty aisle.

“Oh, and you’re not?” Jay laughed, watching the wheels skid on the white tile. No matter how much he complained about going to the grocery store, he liked doing it with Carlos; it was always more fun to go with his roommate. In fact, it was more fun to do everything with his roommate.

The song was still playing, a low murmur behind their laughter and antics. Jay listened absentmindedly, still focused on Carlos in the middle of the aisle.

“What a dork,” Jay muttered to himself, a wide smile still splitting his face. “I’m rooming with the biggest dork in Auradon.”

---

The next time Jay heard the song he was in detention.

He’d been late for class one too many times, apparently, and as a result, had been sentenced to the dreaded fate of hanging up decorations for the winter dance. He unfolded another paper snowflake garland and stuck it to the wall with a little more force than necessary.

Someone had turned on holiday music - because while it was detention, it was also Auradon - and now the whole room buzzed with too-cheerful (and much too jingly) melodies.

Jay was just draping a garland above the window when he paused. He recognized the song playing, but it took him a moment to figure out where he’d heard a cheesy Auradon Christmas love song.

“Hey, Jay,” one of the tourney guys who’d somehow landed himself on decorating duty called. “Your boyfriend’s here.”

“He’s not my -” Jay started to snort - he was quickly learning that when people said that here, they didn't mean it as a compliment - but he got distracted before he could finish.

“Oh, Carlos!” Jane wasn't in detention, but she'd come to help out anyway (of course she had) and now, she was standing by the gym entrance conversing with his roommate. She looked excited to see him, her cheeks flushed and hands moving a hundred miles a minute.

Carlos nodded, listening intently for a few moments before his eyes drifted past her and found Jay’s. Jay raised his hand a little in greeting, which Carlos returned with a smile and a wink.

The song was still playing, floating out of the speakers, and Jay couldn't help smiling a bit. It was an okay song, he'd decided.

----

Evie had ordered a movie night.

It wasn't a new thing for the four of them, but this time, she wanted to watch a holiday movie - whatever the hell that was.

“What's the difference between a holiday movie and a regular movie?” Jay wanted to know as they settled down on the couch in the boy’s dorm.

“Search me.” Mal was watching Evie kneel by the DVD player intently, and Jay rolled his eyes a little.

“Stop staring at her ass.”

“Shut up!”

Evie bounded up with a squeal and settled herself between Mal and Jay, pointing. “I did it! Now we watch!”

“Proud of you, Eves,” Jay grinned, patting her knee affectionately. “You bested the machine.”

“Please,” she giggled. “Like you could do better.”

The movie started with lots of snow and - yes, jingly sounds. It was some cheesy romance - much like the other million cheesy romances they’d watched - but this time, someone had put it all into a blender with Christmas and produced… whatever they were watching.

It wasn't until the second half of the movie that Jay really started paying attention. The romantic leads were walking together - falling in love, he supposed - and in the background, came the familiar notes of the song he kept hearing.

Jay’s mind drifted to the boy curled beside him, how he was nursing a piece of chocolate - smearing it on his lip some. He thought about Carlos punching him and laughing… and what he'd said at the grocery store.

“Apparently, everyone thinks about someone subconsciously.”

Jay sat straight up, his heart pounding. Mal glanced over, one eyebrow raised in question, but he waved her off.

I know who I think about, Jay realized, running a hand through his hair and glancing quickly at Carlos. I think about you.

----

The song was playing.

It seemed to be following him these days. Each time it played, Jay’s heart started to beat just a little faster and his cheeks started to flush just a little brighter.

“What?”

They were all alone - him and Carlos - studying for their final exams. Or, Carlos was studying. Jay was listening to the radio, to his song.

“You figured out who you think about, yet?” Carlos asked jokingly, not looking up from his paper. “Like when songs like this come on? Jane was going and on the other day about -”

“It’s you,” Jay interrupted, wringing his hands in his lap. “I think about you.”

Carlos stared at him, his pencil forgotten and left to roll down the page of his textbook. Jay didn’t move. For a moment, he thought he might’ve angered him, but then, Carlos grabbed his face and kissed him quickly.

Jay’s brain short circuited for a moment, but when he finally came to his senses, he let himself melt into the embrace - kissing back enthusiastically.

“You think about me?” Carlos asked finally.

And Jay nodded. “All the damn time.”

“Why?”

And although he wasn’t ready to say it out loud yet, neither of them needed Jay to; it was there - hanging in the air along with the stupid song:

Because I love you.

#jaylos #descendants #12daysofdescendants #deardescendants #fanfiction #writing #my writing

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misfitjohnnys · 5 years ago

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friend’s best friend (pt 1)

✩ getting to know jungwoo was a little different than you thought it’d be ✩

・jungwoo x reader ・smut-ish? ・warnings: sexual themes, slight asphyxiation, astrology mentions, swearing ・theres supposed to be more parts later but we’ll just play it by ear for now 👀

Jungwoo was… irritable to say the least. Especially before bed. Especially when he’s really tired. And especially when his friends found it funny to drink 10 bottles of soju in 3 hours and all pass out scattered across the house leaving his bedroom the only unoccupied area even though Jaehyun promised that “you’d have the couch tonight and watch Captain America Civil War together”

before he ended up in the bathtub covered in his own vomit and no pants on with Taeyong piss drunk beside him rambling his feelings and conspiracy theories.

“I hate when he does this, Hyuck decided to throw this stupid party and now i’m the only one alive enough to dedicate the time to guests and make sure you’re all fed and-.” He sighed, tossing the cups from the table into the trash before he pulled his leftover Olive Garden from the fridge and set it on the table.

You rummaged through the snack box in the cabinet labeled “Jaehyun!” in red marker with a bunch of hearts scribbled around it and just happened to find some cheetos and a pack of fruit snacks amongst a ton of strawberry candies. Jaehyun was like an infant, you giggled to yourself because having known him for years, he was truly always entertaining.

“Jaehyun’s gonna be mad you took his cheetos.” Jungwoo said quietly. Honestly, Jungwoo was your type. Quiet and careful with just a hint of unnecessary sass. “He buys them in bulk and those are the last few because we were supposed to run to the store tomorrow.”

“I don’t really care.” You shrugged, opening the bag and tossing a few into your mouth. “He drank so much he’s in the tub and i was supposed to sleep in his bed. But that’s where Jeno is right now probably passed out with Renjun because they ditched the party and opted for watching horror films in bed, which is probably what i should’ve done.” You sighed, sitting next to Jungwoo at the table, watching him finish off his chicken parmesan.

“You were going to sleep with Jaehyun?” Jungwoo asked, furrowing his brows. “Wait wait, i meant like sleep in bed with him.” He got a bit flustered with himself, causing you to chuckle. He was like this sometimes, embarrassing himself with his speech. He blushed lightly. You hadn’t even come close to sleeping with Jaehyun like that, he was much more of a friend than anyone really believed. Jaehyun was a literal teddy bear and he was there to protect you every second, it just wasn’t like that between the two of you.

“I mean yeah, I usually sleep on the couch but we figured it would be occupied tonight and it is. With Mark and Johnny and a big half eaten bucket of popcorn. Plus Chenle’s on the floor, so i guess we assumed right.” You laughed, watching Jungwoo nod. “So i was just going to sleep in his bed, he doesn’t take up the whole thing.” You snorted. He nodded again.

“You have slept in bed with him before?” Jungwoo’s eyes were on you, full attention.He had something stirring in his mind, but you couldn’t quite pick it up.

“No actually, I haven’t.” You answered with a sigh. Maybe as a kid you had a little crush on Jaehyun, but you knew you both grew to like different kinds of people and you were truly happy as friends, just really close friends. “But I’ve slept in the same room as him a bunch of times. And it beats sleeping on the floor like I’m going to have to now.” You sighed, looking over at the clock and seeing 3:48AM against the white background.

“I mean, you don’t have to sleep on the floor.” Jungwoo bit his lip a little. He was reluctant to say his next sentence, a little freaked out himself. “You can sleep in the bed with me if you want.” There it was. He was hesitant, but he always put others before himself; it was innocent in nature. “To be completely fair i don’t sleep cuddling whatever’s near me in a death grip, so that might be a little disappointing.” He was laughing now, trying to brush off what he felt was an awkward conversation.

You were a little shocked, but you weren’t 100% sure why. You retorted back with the first thing that slipped out. “Oh come on, you’re not going to pretend I’m a pillow and hold me tight enough to not be able to move for eight hours straight?” You both laughed in response, watching him finish his meal. You knew Jungwoo and knew him well, but you had…. your differences and things got a little too argumentative (even if it was just playful banter) when you were too close for too long, you weren’t sure it was a great idea, but you didn’t really have another option aside from the floor and Jaehyun drove you over so going home was out of the question too, and you weren’t going to get an uber at this time of night, that is if Jungwoo would even let you. It took a moment of thought before saying “Sure.” You nodded. “If you don’t mind at least.”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor.” You didn’t even have time to answer, just laughed in response as Jungwoo nearly raced to the hall closet, gathering more blankets and pillows for his bed. Once he felt responsible for something, he tended to go a little overboard and lay everything fully on himself. As much as he wanted to give himself an innocent appearance and radiate innocence, he had a paternal nature to him and loved protecting people and taking care of them. He tossed it all on the chair, pulling his blanket off and quickly replacing the sheets, tossing his laundry in the hamper all while you stood in his doorway. He laid two blankets and a throw out on the bed, stacking up pillows and smoothing it all out for you to lay on. He patted the bed softly. “It’s ready now. Would you like some water?” He asked, scooting over to his closet while you crawled into the bed.

“I’m good, thank you though.” Your smile faltered a bit when you looked over to grab the remote and saw Jungwoo tugging his shirt over his head, his small waist looked so delicate, toned back and shoulder muscles flowing with his arms over his head and you felt a little nervous, turning your head away you could still see him sooth his oversized grey tee down his body. You shouldn’t have stared and you knew it. You saw him grab something out of the corner of your eyes and tell you “Be right back.” as he headed out the door. You couldn’t help be a little flustered. He really was attractive, you’d always thought so.

You really couldn’t help but giggle when he came back to the room in tiny blue shorts that only came down mid thigh and corgi patterned calf high socks. He looked like an adorable kindergartener who’d grown too tall to look 5. You bit your lip and watched him crawl into bed, sliding his glasses on and taking out his phone from under the covers. It was a decent sized bed, queen probably so there was a decent amount of room between the both of you. His room was cozy, it smelled like sandalwood and fresh laundry. The quiet nonsense going on the tv wasn’t even noticed until Jungwoo grabbed the remote and clicked it off along with his lamp. He snuggled himself down under the double blankets you were sharing and tightly held them to his chest, letting out a huge sigh and laying with his mouth partially open and his eyes closed. You felt a little bad for staring (and stealing his personal space.)

The silence was a little much and you caught yourself staring at his blue alarm clock. His pillowcases were blue too. He really liked blue, huh? You caught yourself wondering what all you didn’t know about Jungwoo. Before tonight you had no idea he liked italian food, wore glasses at all, or owned tiny shorts. Like really tiny shorts. You furrowed your eyebrows, looking around his room and trying to settle your brain down since your phone died hours ago and none of the rest of the boys seemed to have an extra charger, which was dumb on your part for not bringing one.

It felt like hours had passed but it had just been 15 minutes. Jungwoo had to have been asleep by now.

You snuggled up under the covers and sighed, Jungwoo’s mouth was still slightly parted and his glasses were still on. Who sleeps with glasses on? You reached over and very gently tried to pull them off for him when his eyes shot open. He raised a brow and giggled a little. “Can’t sleep?” He asked quietly, blinking, eyes dark and sleepy.

“No.” You grumbled a little, rolling your eyes and snatching your hand away from his face. “I have a hard time sleeping in a bed with someone for the first time.” You answered honestly.

“But you were going to sleep with Jaehyun?” He asked with a slight laugh in his voice. “He falls asleep really quickly and snuggles into whoever is in bed with him. We’ve shared beds a few times.”

You nodded in response. “I was going to sleep with Jaehyun because I know him well enough, you and i aren’t that close.” Your shrug made him smile, nodding and scooting back up on the pillows before turning his lamp back on. “I mean we are, but Jaehyun’s a little different.”

“He’s a little more friendly.”

“Yeah, a little.” You laughed, shrugging again as you snuggled a little deeper into the bed. You watched jungwoo card his fingers through his hair and turn the tv back on, sitting up against the headboard to relax a bit.

“I can be friendly, i’m just quiet really. People get me a bit wrong. Everyone babies me.” Jungwoo shrugged and flipped through Netflix titles. “I feel like nobody really knows who I am for a while after meeting me.”

“You’re an Aquarius Pisces cusp. Thats why.” You snorted, sitting up and watching him scroll. “You’re kind of distant and let people know whatever they want when you want to and you leave them wanting more but scared to ask. You’re nice at first but everyone knows you can be kind of intense when they get to know you. And you like being babied and you know it. But you also like to take care of people, especially if they’re in need of something.” Jungwoo dropped his jaw a bit, shaking his head. “Like you immediately got everything together to help me the second I said i needed somewhere to sleep.”

“I just got my ass handed to me by someone i offered my most personal space with.” He laughed, shaking his head. “You didn’t have to go in that hard.” He looked over at you, raising a brow.

“Just stating the facts.” You said, matter of factly. “You’re an interesting one, for sure, thats what i know. And you’ve slightly mentioned you’re not a cuddler but you absolutely are. Ive seen you cuddle everyone in this house.”

He pouted a little, cutely. “Does my birth chart also tell you i snore and have to wear socks for bed?” he teased with a laugh, grabbing a bottle of water from his night stand.

“I would say yes, but I actually didn’t know you snore. I just assumed by your socks that you were just cold.” He was laughing a bit more now, shrugging and enjoying the conversation.

“See, I can open up! And i snore pretty loud so you can just shove me if it gets annoying.”

“Ah, a snorer. I’ll come up with something more creative if your snoring keeps me up, Jungwoo,” He nodded in response, causing you both to laugh.

“I’m sure you will, you seem pretty stern on your actions when it comes to that kind of thing.” He joked. “What are you gonna do? Gag me?” you shrugged your shoulders, playfully acting like you’re gonna go with that idea. He sighed, grinning. “I’ve never really understood birth charts, but I’m sure yours is a doozy.” He smirked, shrugging. It was your turn for your jaw to drop a bit, over dramatically.

“Just because I’m sleeping in your bed doesn’t mean you can vaguely insult me with knowledge i refuse to give you to destroy me later.”

“Bold of you to assume i would destroy you.” It was your turn to laugh, shaking your head. “I couldn’t if i wanted to. I’m bad at hurting people’s feelings. I’m a soft baby.”

“I’m glad you’re willing to admit it.” he snorted.

“God i hate that you’re reading me right now, I don’t deserve it.” His smile couldn’t be faltered, it was absolutely gorgeous and you had to admit it.

“I’m just making you very aware is all.”

“I’m very aware that you’re in my bed and i could kick you to the floor if i wanted to.”

“How very aquarius of you.” He shook his head, smiling to himself now. “But you don’t want to.” He shook his head again. “And that’s very Pisces of you.”

“God, shut up.” He laughed again. “It feels like you’re being my natal therapist right now.”

“Now you’re gonna have to be the one to shove me for not being quiet. But I’m not telling you if i snore.” You smirked, seeing him card his fingers through his hair again.

“I’m just going to assume you don’t just by your attitude.” He shrugged, opting to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas. You held back a snort.

“I also don’t watch children’s cartoons before bed.”

“Well i don’t like to watch adult things like you’re implying we should.” You snorted, smiling at him and waiting for him to realize what you were laughing about. He sighed, putting his head in his hands. “Okay, dirty minded. Yes, I watch porn, shut up.”

“What kind of porn?”

“We’re not having this conversation.” you smiled, turning on your side and ready for an answer.

“Why not? You know I’m wanting to get to know you.”

“Knowing what kind of porn i watch doesn’t show you the real me.” He shook his head, pushing his glasses up into his head and taking a sip from his water bottle from the night stand. “But it’s usually something like none of your business.” He winked playfully, smiling to himself and laying his head on the pillow. You were silent. He looked over at you, seeing your concentrated face and ready for his answer. He sighed, shaking his head. “I’m more of really into foreplay, stuff like not actual sex and I’m actually not at all a fan of scripted scenes.” He laughed, trying not to die from the extreme heat running to his cheeks.

“Ah so someone who cares?” You laughed, not really believing you got an answer out of him. “Foreplay is good, you get extra points for that one.”

“I mean you can’t just jump straight into it, it’s the first stuff that makes the last stuff the best.” He shrugged, watching the tv with a slightly bitten lip. He was kind of avoiding looking at you with how red his face was. You were kind of shocked to hear Jungwoo talk about sex, even if it was vague. Everyone did treat him like a child, but he was a full grown adult so you couldn’t be too shocked. Plus he was probably delirious since it was nearly half past 4AM.

“I kind of pegged you to be into super extreme stuff and your face was just a facade maybe. I’m glad to know i was wrong and you were blessed with a face that matches your interests.” you shrugged.

He scoffed, dropping his jaw again. “My interests have nothing to do with my face!” he pouted again. “Maybe i could be into harder stuff and i’m just lying to you.” He shrugged. “You know what, i’m done with this conversation.” he laughed a bit, starting to feel a little nervous.

“Fine, fine. It’s more interesting to think you’re into extreme BDSM.” You joked, watching him put his face in his hands.

“I’m going to try to sleep now.” He laughed, shaking his head and keeping himself turned toward you to snuggle the blankets up to his neck again. He was silent for a second, a smile pulling on his face and you didn’t miss it when he giggled to himself again. You furrowed your brows and were wondering what was on his mind. He snorted to himself, trying to keep it contained but he couldn’t.

“Jungwoo what are you laughing at?” he snorted again, pursing his lips to stop himself.

“You mentioned BDSM and i just thought about if i snored I’d wake up to you choking me.” He started furiously laughing and you genuinely didn’t understand why it was so funny, but you were starting to laugh too.

“Oh yeah! choke me! perfect!” You imitated what he’d sound like and you were both laughing loudly and harshly. “You’ll know to never snore again!” You joked about yourself. He was clutching his stomach, laughing loudly with his face scrunched up.

“Please don’t.” He laughed harder, smiling wide enough to hurt. “God, i can only imagine. I’d be so freaked out.” he shook his head, pulling the covers back down a bit to just his chest.

“I’m not going to, don’t worry.” You grinned looking over at him. His smile was bright enough to put the sun out of order. There was no way he was sleeping any time soon. “Things I’ve learned about you tonight,” you started, getting a raised brow from the boy next to you. He was a bit intrigued. “You wear tiny shorts to sleep,” He rolled his eyes. “You have to wear socks, you snore, you wear glasses and you definitely watch extreme hardcore porn triple X bondage! Plus you probably do enjoy choking. We’ve mentioned it like forty times already.” you joked, seeing him start to crack up again was so entertaining you couldn’t help yourself.

“I mean you did say you were going to come up with creative ways to get me to stop snoring.” He shrugged, playing into your little game.

“I think that stuff’s hot and all, but i don’t think i know you like that, Jungwoo.” He laughed a bit, blushing hard. He pulled his face under the covers and hid from you.

“Now i’m feeling shy, you’ve gotta quit!” you could feel him pouting from under the covers. You grinned widely, scooting yourself under them to pull them up to see his face. He pouted when you got a good look into his eyes. You scooted closer, grinning and laughing playfully. You watched him shyly smile and scoot closer to you teasingly. “You can’t intimidate me in my own bed.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing isn’t it?” you smirked, shrugging your shoulders. You didn’t expect him to bite his lip in a smile, staring deep into your eyes. You felt your heart thump a bit, chest tightening and you weren’t sure why. He was so close and he looked so good. You could feel his breathing under the covers. You pulled them down and covered your face this time.

“Hmph.” Jungwoo pouted. “No.” he tugged at the covers for a second but you were firm. “Let gooooo.” He coaxed, moving his face even closer to you. Your noses were so close they could nearly touch and his eyes were staring intently into yours. He bit his lip, breathing hitched a little and you were finding it hard to breathe. You swallowed and you could tell he was feeling a bit nervous. His eyes diverted for just a second before turning back to you. It was silent

for a second before he spoke again, this time his voice was barely above a whisper. “We just talked about porn and i’m feeling nervous just staring at you.”

“Yeah, me too.” You whispered back, somehow moving even closer when you adjusted your body under the blankets. The tension felt thick and your heartbeat was in your throat. Your comedic side took over and you said the first thing you could think of to break the silence. “I’m used to seeing you attempt to kiss everyone, but being this close is really… intimidating?” you questioned. He shrugged a bit.

“How does it feel?” He asked, grinning widely and starting to loosen up just a bit. Only a little.

“Good.” You answered honestly, breathing still heavy.

“Hm, yeah?” He questioned. Before you could think of a response, he leaned forward and pressed your lips together firmly, the tiniest moan coming from his throat, it almost sounded like relief. His tongue wasted no time prodding between your lips and his hand snaked its way over to lay on top of your hip. You could feel him smiling into the kiss, gently moving his tongue against yours in an effort of (ever so slight) dominance. His lip slid against yours, slick and wet while his tongue flicked against yours, sliding underneath and it just felt so good. He giggled into your mouth when you slipped out a soft noise, pulling away just a bit to breathe for air. Your noses pressed together and his eyes locked with yours as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Okay..” You started, blushing viciously and feeling your chest heave as his hand slid ever so slightly under the hem of your shirt. He bit his lip, asking for the okay. You nodded, feeling his hand lay flat against your back and rub soft circles into your skin.

“Your skin is soft.” He said, whispering. “Your lips too.” He giggled, biting his lip again and leaning closer, teasing into a second kiss. “Can i?” You could only respond with a nod. You were much more silent than you’d been all night and it was odd to see Jungwoo take a little more of the talking role. His mouth pressed against yours again, a little more aggressively this time. His tongue prodded into your mouth immediately and you subconsciously slipped your arms around his neck. “Don’t choke me.” He whispered, laughing again and kissing you hard once again. He bit gently on your lip, tugging at it and pulling away again to catch his breath with his forehead pressed against yours.

“Why not?” You laughed, trying to actually let some kind of conversation come to surface because your nerves were really working on you. It felt like you were sweating and you playfully slipped your hand to right above the collar of his shirt. You grinned, pressing your palm against the front of his neck and wrapping your fingers around it. He gasped a little, swallowing and blushing harshly.

“What are you gonna do? Gag me?” He bit his lip hard, eyes hooded and trying to get a proper breath with his heart beating in his throat. “Harder.” He grinned, smirking a bit and let out a soft moan when you tightened up a bit.

“Don’t do this.” you whispered, seeing him get quite worked up under your fingertips. He breathed in, reaching up to take your hand away from him. “Are… you wanting to..?” you started but the words weren’t coming out.

“Y-yeah..” He bit his lip again, pushing his hair out of his face.

“Fuck.” You whispered, feeling him crawl over you, his hand gently pushing your shirt up, but just barely. You could feel his arousal against your thigh and you whined quietly. He chuckled lowly, tugging his shirt up and over his head to toss it on the floor. He smirked, leaning closer to you and running his finger down the front of your shirt.

“Do you wanna?” He asked lowly and you knew you were done for.

#jungwoo #jungwoo imagines #nct #nct imagines #kim jungwoo #jungwoo smut #nct smut #tommowrites #nctfic

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alias-b · 5 years ago

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Without The Lights~ Billy Hargrove x OC Camille Harper

Chapter 5: Where Is My Mind?

Summary: Touch with Billy Hargrove often meant getting fresh stitches plucked open. For Camille Harper, he'd risk it. Camille was Queen Bee of Hawkins High School. The teen dream. Billy wanted her for it. No use lying about that much. But, they get more than they bargained for when two messy lives from opposite ends of town intertwine. Secrets unravel between them when one dimension bleeds into another. Camille is a girl just trying to do better when Billy barges into her life and new pieces come together. Maybe not all the ones they wanted. He gets tangled into her lavish existence. Rich girl. Absent parents. A mystery that blooms, threatening everything they built. And three little numbers: 006.

A/N: Yay, some S2 stuff picks up. We get more of Steve, The Party, and Jim Hopper. :) Warning for forced vomiting from pill overdose at the beginning here. Billy and Camille fall down the rabbit hole.

Pounding. Her world was hard vibrations. Nothing more.

Billy tried to leave. Tried.

“Camille!” He busted the lock on her window. Climbed a story to get to it through the thorny rose vines along the side of her house.

Hair framed her head with a dark halo. He dragged her half aware body into the bathroom, knocking bottles over when he heaved her into the tub. Cold water sprayed and fingers went into her throat.

“Come on!” She gagged. Vomit burned around the digits so he choked her again. Free hand tight into silky locks. Whole and half dissolved pills came up in chunks of puke and bile. Shower water sprayed them away. “That’s it. Fucking god damn it, Camille!” One of her hands came up to grip the side of the tub, feeling around as if to swat at him. Dainty fingers curled into his jacket, tugging blindly. “Little more. Fuck!” She heaved for air with blood shot eyes, head tipping to touch the porcelain.

“Billy...”

“What the fuck are you doing!” He screamed in her face. Shaking her. Billy swept wet hair from her cheeks. His voice got smaller, cracking with genuine confusion. He finally sounded like a teenager. “You stupid bitch, what the fuck did you do?” She realized he was crying. Barely there tears slipped down. Furious. Scared. “Don’t ever do that again! What were you thinking?!” He cupped her face and roughly let her go. Camille threw up again down her front and he stole a glass to offer tap water. "Drink it!" Heaving still, she gulped with two shaken hands on the glass.

“I wanted it to stop.” Her voice was near gone.

“You think dying will stop it?!” He raged, jerking the shower head to pull the cold spray over her face. "Wake up, Camille!" She coughed and sputtered, pushing at his soaked chest. Camille looked like a wet rat when he was done. Tiny. He turned off the water and dropped a whole pile of towels on her. “Get up!”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” He yanked her out. “Stand up!”

“No!” She played up a brat, dragging along with him.

“Stand up, Camille!” Billy forced her against the counter, rubbing her down roughly with towels. He had to wedge her there with his body while she pushed at his chest. Fingers dug into her arms, faces too close. He hissed this time. “Take your fucking clothes off.”

“You first, dick!” She seethed, tearing from him with one big push. Mascara and eyeshadow had streaked down her cheeks. He tore his shirt open and tossed it at her head. Camille threw the towels aside and yanked everything off down to her underwear. Billy growled to himself and followed until he was in tight briefs. They swayed together, breathing heavily. Manic. Billy grew livid, tone low and even to spit through emotions.

“I’m not going to fuck you.”

“I hate you.” She broke apart.

“You think I fucking like you right now?” He gestured with both hands. The light caught his silver pendant. “You come into my life and drudge up all this shit.”

“You pursued me. I was just a challenge to you at first. A notch in your bedpost. New hive for Billy Hargrove, why not find the queen bee and try to fuck her.” She pushed at his chest and fingers clamped around her arms. They struggled, stumbling until they were falling into bed. Her chest rose and fell. Heat filled his body. He held her wrists into place and she watched his eyes. Bodies pressed together. Shuddering. Pulsing. Breathing deep. His thigh edged up between her legs. Camille was hard intent on his eyes. Billy tore himself off her, sitting up on his knees and she followed, holding herself up too. They watched each other, calming. Coming down from this high. They didn't speak until it was a little less red. Camille looked at his face and fell back, laughter erupted from her chest. Fleeting. Billy, unable to stop himself, let his own echo. They'd both officially lost it. Yet, they had each other. Comfort was horrifying. “It’s...It’s just all bullshit. It doesn't ever end. What's worse...people like us don't really want it to end.” He fucks her, it's all over. The chase. That hit too hard. She wiped her eyes and he sobered first.

“Get under the damn covers.” He yanked them back. “Be quiet. Still pissed at you. Not leaving until I know you won't stuff more pills. You think that's an escape from this?" Camille quivered, head lowering before she did as she was told.

“The fucking sunflowers.” She wheezed, rolling to face the window instead. “My mother… Every single time I’ve been sick. Every recital. Competition. Every single time. She places a big vase of sunflowers on my dresser. Do you think she feels shame? Gives them to Judith and talks about me? She stole her daughter.”

“Fucked up.”

“I’m fucked up.” Camille let him cover her before she whispered. “Don’t leave.”

“Wasn’t planning to.” He fell behind her. “Yet. Have this new friend who's an idiot I have to watch. Pills, Camille, Jesus Christ. I tore my shit up climbing to your damn window too.”

“You could have left when I shut that door. Know what self destruction looks like?”

“Something like that,” he agreed. There was an awkward beat.

“I’m not going to fuck you either.” She began, defiant.

“So, we agree.”

“Yes, we do.” She was hard. Billy hesitated, teeth pressed before he was lax.

“I’m going to take you out first.” He came to her ear. “Saturday. Around eight. Put on a dress and we’ll go to the damn movies. Something that’ll make us forget the bullshit.”

“You’ll pick me up and hold the door.” She rolled over to face him. “I want a flower too."

"A red rose?"

"No, I hate red roses. I want a peony. Pink one.”

“You think I know what the fuck a peony is?”

“Now you get to go find out.” She uttered and Billy turned off the lamp behind him. “You’ll buy the tickets and I’ll get the popcorn.”

“Fine.” He was harsh.

“Fine!” Camille shot back. They stared in the dim moonlight. “You have to hold my hand during the movie. Not the whole thing. Maybe the credits.”

“After it, I’m taking you to the corner diner. Twenty four hour shithole. You’ll get a milkshake. Strawberry.”

“I like chocolate.”

“I don’t give a shit.” He pressed his teeth.

“You have to share your fries.” She ordered then and he relented.

“It’s a fucking date, Camille.”

“I’ll fucking see you then, Billy.” They glared. Softening each edge. “I don’t hate you.”

“Maybe I don’t hate you either.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” They repeated. She puffed and studied him, rolling around to see the night sky.

“I’m going to find out everything. Every dirty, awful thing they’ve done.” Camille admitted. “I have to pretend first. I can do that. I’ll be queen bee Camille and they’ll have to live with it.”

“Can’t do that if you stuff yourself with more pills.” Billy remarked, quieter, and she turned back around so she could face him.

“They give me pills for that...medical thing. What if those suppress me? What happens when the cuffs come off?” Camille uttered and he watched her eyes.

“Stick around and find out for yourself.” He offered, something dangerous in his tone. It made her smirk. "Now, shut your mouth and go to sleep."

“Goodnight.” Camille faced the window one last time and he scooted closer. Body heat warmed them up. She reached down for the doll on the floor to hold it close to her heart. Eyes closed and Billy draped one arm around her. He was tense as first. Stiff and shaken. Still furious. Still scared too. Camille slowly slipped her hand over his and he thought to jerk away. Shifted in a sudden, confused motion like he might. When he didn't, she felt him sigh and relax into her. Wordless, they fell together.

** ** **

Camille sat at the head of the table. Grin and bear it. Her parents made time for her. Finally. These people. These liars.

“Thankfully the school will be back Monday.” Rosemary cut into an omelet.

“Hm, I miss it.” Camille admitted.

“We see you’re feeling better.” Noah added.

“Yeah, I feel...great. Renewed.” Her teeth showed. Edna swept in the next room, coming out with a bright smile that Camille mirrored. The housekeeper turned her head to move on. That smile faded. Melting in an instant. “Do you really have to work today? What do they hog you for?”

“Chasing each and every breakthrough as hard as the last is what knowledge is built from.” He’d replied so she didn’t falter.

“Thought it was built on children.” Camille blinked. Noah stilled, eyes lifting. She didn't bow. “The budding new minds of generations after you.”

“I would say that both are equally important. Legacy is everything. You have to keep the cycle going."

“What if the cycle never worked?” She uttered, softer. “What if you’re just too mad to give it up?”

“Let’s hope it never comes to that,” he laughed and then she followed. Rosemary joined, sipping water. Her family.

What if the cycle had a cost? Who decides who pays it? She wanted to say.

“We know we’ve disappointed you.” Noah was heartfelt. At last.

“Disappointed? No. Never.” Camille sobered up. “You were good parents.” Were.

“We push your limits. I know. It’s all for your benefit. To grow up better.” To be the best.

“Maybe, I am just Camille.”

“Just Camille. Oh, no,” Noah chuckled again. “You are everything to us. Always remember that.”

“I will.” She dropped her eyes, silverware glinting in the light. “I was thinking of going to the library today. Is that okay, dad?” Dad. She drank water in gulps.

“Of course, honey.”

“Nancy is picking me up. I should head out soon.”

“We’ll be right here when you get home tonight.” Her dad spoke. Like it was a promise. Camille didn’t kiss either of them. Just fixed her makeup and flicked hair aside to put on a coat. She had avoided her friends until Friday morning. Jonathan was with Nancy yet again. Camille didn’t comment on that. She shut the door and slid in back while they looked expectantly.

“You said you found something. Did you bring it?” Nancy began when they drove off.

“I couldn’t bring the files. My dad will know. But, I do have something else.” Camille frowned.

“What was it?” Jonathan began, turning the corner.

“Me.”

** ** **

“We should go to Hopper,” Nancy shook her head.

“Feels like it’s all repeating itself.” Jonathan agreed. “Will and...you now.”

“Drop me here,” Camille shifted. “Just promise me you’ll destroy that place.”

“I will,” Nancy grabbed her hand. “Camille. Whatever is happening to you. We can help.”

“I need to figure it out first.” She flashed her scar. “Six.”

“Eleven, she had a tattoo.”

“And you say she disappeared into this...this...”

“Upside down. They thought so.” Jonathan finished. “You think you’re like her?”

“Pills will wear off, I haven’t been taking them for awhile. Whatever was slipping in is now flooding. If I don’t die or hemorrhage...I’ll have a complete answer.” Camille sat back again and Nancy let her go. “I have to push through.”

“I’m so sorry.” She’d offered, unsure why.

“So am I.” Camille returned it. “I’ll be fine.”

“If they find out-”

“I know. I’ll stop by the police then I’ll swing by your place later...if you’re still there. Plan this out before you jump on it. If you’re gone, I’ll know you made your move.” Camille got out. “Be careful.”

“You too.” They drove away and she peered up at the library when someone called her name.

“Steve,” she regarded him.

“Hey, uh, was that Nancy and Jonathan?” He’d raced across the street to her.

“...Yes.” She admitted and his shoulders fell. “Are you and Nancy still…?”

“I just figured we’d find our way back, you know?” He followed her into the library.

“Do you want to be with her?” Camille walked aisles of shelves, hands stuffed into her pockets.

“I mean, yes, of course. I do.” Steve trailed like a puppy. “What should I do?”

“You could try flowers.” Camille shrugged, pulling books down.

“Um, so what’s that about?” Steve read titles.

“Steve, I’m kind of going through something and...” Camille looked behind him and pulled him further into the shelves. “Nancy, she told me about last year.”

“...What?”

“Can you keep a couple more secrets?” She heaved books about telekinesis, unexplained mysteries, and photographic memories to the front. Marissa eyed her behind the desk.

“New subjects, even for you, Ms. Harper.”

“I’m...writing a story for school. Sci-fi type. Need ideas.”

“Oh? Sound’s fun. I love a good mystery.”

“You have no idea.” Camille stuffed her bag full and turned to Steve. “You have your car. Can I catch a ride? We can stop by Nancy’s house later, see if she’s around. She has a lot on her plate right now. I'll help you pick out flowers.”

“Thank you, Camille...” He closed his eyes, relieved. “Explain this...on the way.”

“I have time. But, first, I need to see Chief Hopper.”

** *** **

“Wait here.” Camille got out, ignoring an awed Steve.

“You can’t just leave me hanging after that story, Camille!” He went silent as the door shut behind her. Flo looked up when Camille came in.

"Ms. Harper, what brings you here?"

“Is the Chief in?”

“What is this regarding?” Flo asked and Jim came out of his office in a huff. “Hop-”

“I know, I know, I’m going to see Joyce right now.”

“Hop, this girl-”

“Chief Hopper, I need to speak with you.”

“Ms. Harper, I’m afraid there’s a line.” He breezed past her. "Tell your popular friends to quit doing donuts around the cop cars, it gets old."

“Really, well I can think of ten...maybe eleven...reasons you should take a moment to speak with me.” Camille crossed her arms when he skidded to a stop and peered at her. She split a smile at him. Jim eyed Flo and pointed Camille toward his office.

“Call Joyce, tell her I’ll be on the way.” Jim locked his door and Camille leaned against his desk. “Well?”

“Funny how pieces come together, Chief Hopper. Hearing a lot. Sounds like you were quite the hero. Did you know?”

“Know about what?”

“Mm, I think you knew.” Camille was still smiling. It set him on edge. A teen with fire inside her. “You know my dad is part of it.”

“What do you know?”

“Everything.” She stood taller. “Maybe a few things you don’t.” Camille fixed his typewriter so it was facing them. Concentrated. She thought of those broken lights. She thought of her mother rocking. Rage was white hot. Then it was red. Tap. Tap. Tap. Blood traced a thin line down to her lip. Jim Hopper’s jaw about hit the floor. The keys moved on their own. 006. “Want to talk to me now?”

“You have five minutes.”

“They stole me. The lab. My parents, they're a part of it. They were...given me. My dad has a whole study of my life in our attic. I found it after..." Camille offered her arm so he took her hand to eye the scar.

"You got out, how?"

"It was part of the experiment to...suppress me. I’ve lost it, Chief. ...I can...recall things. Skills. See them and know how they work. Mimic them. They drugged me to repress it as part of the study. To see if I could be controlled and still function. I’m a mockingbird in a cage. They’ll want me back soon, I know it and I need people I can trust. You were a big part of this. Here we thought you could care less about Hawkins. Used to be an easy gig. Drunk farmers, raccoons, and idiot teens. I need help, Chief Hopper. Please. If something happens to me, they can’t get away with it.”

“We made a deal. I’m sure your little friends told you that.”

“We were just kids.” Camille’s eyes watered and guilt pooled within him. He thought of El at home crying.

“I can protect you but, you can’t make waves.” Jim touched her shoulder to comfort her.

“I found my mother. They destroyed her.”

“These people are serious, Camille. They take care of loose ends and you might be the biggest one if you’re not careful.”

“I stopped the drugs they’ve been feeding me and something is awake inside me.” She whispered, trembling. “I feel it everywhere. I can’t stop it. I don’t want to.”

“You have to go home. Smile. Wait. Who knows about this? Just those involved in last year?”

“Maybe...someone else.” Her eyes turned. “They don’t know all of it. They mostly just know...about me.”

“Keep them quiet.” Jim was at her level. “I’ll take care of this. Go straight home.” He guided her out so she thanked him quietly and went to Steve’s car.

“I’m losing it, Cam.”

“You’re not the only one,” she watched him start up the vehicle. “Thanks. I’ll help you with Nancy now. Come on, I’m not sure she’ll be near home long. That girl has a fire under her.”

“Don’t I know it?” Steve pulled away.

** ** **

“I’m sorry. I love you.” Steve recited with roses in hand while he drove. “What the hell am I sorry for?”

“She’s sorry for taking her grief out on you and you’re sorry for not hearing her out better,” Camille shrugged. Always each other's wingman since they were still playing in sandboxes with absent parents. “You just need to communicate if you want her back, it’ll come to you. You’re a good guy, Steve, you just...maybe you wanted this to be over before she did.”

“That’s a bad thing? It was awful, I want to move on. And it's repeating itself. I hate it.”

“What if Nancy isn’t ready to let go yet? You can’t force that. She was wrong too though. Just talk to her. Last time you didn’t, we did a really fucked up thing. The spray paint. We didn’t stop Tommy.” They parked. “If she isn’t here then we’ll have to try later.” Camille got out and Steve came around the car. “I’ll wait.”

“No pressure.” He huffed. Little Dustin Henderson, annoyed, was on his way from the door.

“Steve, are those for Mr or Mrs. Wheeler?”

“No...” Steve had the flowers snatched from him. The kid stuffed them in the mailbox.

“Good.”

“Hey, what the hell? Hey!”

“Nancy isn’t home.”

“We missed her.” Camille reclined into the car and Dustin turned to see her.

“Oh...you’re here too?”

“Nancy told Mike before she left and he told you, yeah?” She shrugged.

"Lost contact with Mike a bit ago too. Something's up. You in?"

"All in... You got so big, Dusty. Last time I saw you, Nancy and I dressed like elves for your D&D campaign.”

“I’m up to speed on...most all that. Max had some weird stuff to say. Who’d a thought Hawkins High royalty is one of them?”

“Guess I’m in the freak circle.”

“Not the worst place you can be,” Dustin was genuine as he watched her nod.

“Where is Nancy?” Steve gestured to the house.

“Raising hell probably,” Camille shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter, we have bigger problems than your love life.” Dustin opened the car door and Steve looked at Camille, hopeless. She rolled with the punches. “Do you still have that bat? The one with the nails.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain on the way.” Dustin Henderson kidnapped the King and Queen of Hawkins High School. “We’ll need one of the X-Men too, I guess. Get in Harper, explain this some more to me.”

“Yes, m’lord.” She giggled aloud, reeling back to when she and Nancy were younger. “Hey, no, back seat.” The kid huffed at her and got in so she followed. “Steve, come on.” Unable to stop them, he slid back inside and started the vehicle.

** ** **

The sky grew dim when Camille hurried from the phone booth.

“They think I’m at Heather’s. She always covers for me,” she got in when Steve started the car again. “So this...lizard thing...”

“I’ve told you both a hundred times, it is not a lizard.” Dustin groaned.

“You think it’s that...that demo-”

“Demogorgon. Similar to the thing from last year, yeah. The face opened with teeth...and it ate my cat.” They pulled up to the Henderson house and Steve got the bat from his trunk. Camille held a flashlight out to the locked cellar door outside.

“I don’t hear shit.” Steve remarked.

“He’s in there.” Dustin pointed.

“And we just...smash it.” Camille looked up.

“Hopefully.” They watched Steve poke the metal door with his bat before smacking it harder. Nothing.

“All right, listen, kid. I swear, if this is some sort of late Halloween prank...you’re dead.” Steve began.

“It’s not.”

“All right?”

“It’s not a prank.”

“You got a key for this thing?” Steve went on and Dustin offered it to Camille. “Slow.”

“Got it,” she unlocked the chain and yanked the door up. They braced for the monster. Nothing.

“He must be further down,” Dustin watched on as Camille shifted the light around. “I’ll stay up here, in case he tries to escape.” The two teens looked at him in disbelief.

“Stay with him.” Steve began.

“You are not going alone,” Camille shook her head and followed him down the steps. Nothing still. Steve found a better light and they were awed. He poked a pile of slime on the floor and lifted it with the bat. “That…looks like skin. This thing is growing. Fast it looks.”

“Get down here,” Steve called up the steps and Dustin raced to them.

“Oh, shit...” They looked to a giant hole in the wall. “Oh, shit!”

“Looks like your demo-friend molted and ran.” Camille watched the skin drop to the floor.

“No way…” Dustin groaned.

“What next, Dusty?” Camille turned her gaze to the boys behind her.

“I have an idea, we might die.”

“Lovely, let’s hear it.” Camille grew flat and Steve’s head snapped to her expression.

“Can you guys meet me at Bradley’s Big Buy tomorrow? About one? My mom leaves for work.” Dustin smiled and both teens groaned.

“I have a date tomorrow night. Do not make me late.” Camille turned to go up the steps.

“With who?” Steve chuckled and she peered down, cheeks pink. “Hargrove? That asshole? Come on, Camille, that guy’s wanted in your pants since day one. It’s all trophies to him.”

“Max’s brother? That guy? Camille,” Dustin joined in. “He’s awful.”

“Can’t explain why. It just happened.” Camille rolled her eyes. “You don’t know him. Or me.”

“And maybe you don’t either. You’re a pretty girl he wants and he’s...” Dustin paused. Kid was smart. “He’s not a good guy.”

“Bradley’s Big Buy. Tomorrow.” Camille turned and didn’t say anymore. Didn't deny it either. She went upstairs and Dustin shot Steve a look.

“Seriously?”

“She’s...going through something, might want to let it play out.” Steve whispered. Dustin would never understand these dumb teenagers.

** ** **

“We’re here...” They arrived to an empty lot beyond the forest. A sort of junkyard covered in busted cars and an old bus.

“I just bankrolled three buckets of raw meat for this.” Camille tossed her gloves aside. A trail of beef bits stretched behind them.

“It’ll do,” Steve walked on. “Good call.” Dustin looked proud and Camille smiled at him.

“This better work.”

“The others will be here soon. They have to be,” he added while Steve dumped a pile of raw meat at the center.

“I said medium-well!” Lucas called across the way, getting off his bike with Max next to him.

“Guess we’re waiting for Dart now.” Camille debated her own sanity and pushed the rusty bus door open while greetings were exchanged. Lucas and Dustin went off to the side so Max crossed the field. “In the party now?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” She shrugged, brightening. “You too, I see.”

“They haven’t heard from Will, Mike, or Hopper.” Steve came in behind them.

“Nothing from Nancy and Jonathan too.” Camille agreed.

“Kid was right. Something’s up.”

“We need to blockade the bus. Stay safe. Sun will start going in an hour.” Camille thought of Billy again and frowned. “Max, follow me. We’ll gather scraps. Steve, get the rest of the supplies, finish the fire trap.”

“Weird town.” Max remarked once they got outside into the grass.

“You’re telling me. I’m supposed to be worried about colleges and prom and being a senior next year. And...I’m monster hunting. My life is in shambles and I’m mildly relieved. Just...knowing, I guess. Also, I might be a lab freak.”

“My skateboard. You...see things and copy it.”

“Simply speaking. Maybe I always knew...I just really found it easy, knowing how things work and come together. People are more complicated though. Still working on the believing?”

“I’m coming around,” Max helped her pile metal scraps and sheets in front of the bus. “Never said sorry...that dinner. My stepdad.”

“It is not your fault. It never will be.” Camille stopped to turn. Max paused and nodded. “Max, I...I know some stuff. About Neil. About Billy. And you know what? Honestly, I only see one side to Billy. I get flickers of the rest. He's hurting. We're all hurting. The side that flirts and hides...and uses his charm to get what he wants out of people. That isn’t all I see, granted, but I can’t...make excuses for him. I’m a pretty face to him. You see everything. It’s like a...horrible cycle, isn’t it? It tumbles down to you. To anyone in his way, I'm sure.”

“My stepdad got worse and then Billy did. Mostly after the move.”

“What happens to Billy is awful and it never should have happened...and I don’t experience what you do. But, what happens to him is no excuse for what I’m sure trickles down toward you. You know that? His job is to be your brother. That’s all. And he has a lot of anger. I’ve started to wonder where he puts it these last few days.” She touched Max’s chin. “You can’t change him and he can’t change Neil. Do not ever waste your energy on changing another person. Someone wants to change, they will. It’s not on you. You can tell them the difficult truth and it's on them what they do with it.”

“You learn that the hard way?”

“Like most things when it comes to people.” Camille touched her stomach and turned on her heel to press a large sheet of metal to the bus. “People who don’t change; they complete the cycle and they end up alone. It’s tragic but, people who work to escape it. We have each other. Not all is forgiven but...it'll always matter, you know? Be proud of that if you can.” Max gave a nod, lips lifting. Dustin and Lucas peered at them across the way and Max turned, immediately they went back to work. “They like you, by the way.”

“What do I do?”

“Pretend not to notice, of course, it drive boys crazy.” Camille muttered and Max snickered.

"Even my brother?"

"Especially your brother." Camille gave a soft scoff. "But, he has girls lining up to hop into that Camaro with him."

"Not really since you guys started hanging out more," Max remarked and Camille stilled to see her. "He's the same jerk. But, that changed. Wanders the house in thought before he blasts his music and works out. Longest I've seen him without some girl. My stepdad keeps accusing him of seeing you. Neil says awful things about...anyone who isn't like him."

"Huh. Believe me, I know the type." Camille turned to focus back on her task. “You know, I always wished that I had a sibling.”

“You have a ritzy house.”

“With a pool and rec room full of games and a great street to skateboard on. If you’re ever bored after school and need out and away from dumb boys.”

“Not hanging out with the popular crowd?” Max added more steel to the bus.

“No, they’re not as cool as you.” Camille grinned. Max felt herself smile as she looked up at the teen. Popular, smart, and gorgeous. Also a badass. She felt accepted with a great group of people. Camille let herself feel it as well. They worked for the next hour, securing the area and setting a trap. The sun began to set while they piled into the bus. Darkness and fog shrouded them in slow waves. Lucas went up to keep watch. Camille walked the grounds with the bat in hand to listen for anything. Owls sounded in the trees beyond them. Max joined Lucas up top.

“Anything?” Dustin cut in.

“Nothing yet.” She called back, going inside. “Lucas?”

“I don’t see him.” He watched through his binoculars. The group hushed when a screeching growl sounded in the distance.

“Uh, oh.” Camille stood with Steve and Dustin to come to the barred window. Bleak abyss ahead, a creature stepped out of the fog. “Oh, my god.” She went on, covering her lips. The beast with no face.

“Believe me now?” Dustin spoke.

“Ah, yeah, I think I do.” The demogorgon stepped out of the fog, clicking and hissing about. It didn’t go for the pile of meat.

“He’s not taking the bait.” Steve shook his head. “Why isn’t he taking the bait?”

“Maybe he’s not hungry.” Dustin tried. Steve met Camille’s eyes before he realized it.

“Maybe he’s sick of cow.” He stood up.

“You can’t,” she grabbed for his arm.

“Steve, what are you doing?” Dustin came forward when Steve tossed him the lighter.

“Just get ready.” He took the bat and opened the door.

“Steve, no.”

“Cam, just watch them.” He put his arm out. Instead, she picked up a metal bar, thick with a sharp end.

“I’m not letting you or some demo-shit make me late for my date tonight.” She huffed. “Max, Lucas, come down. Something related to that thing took Barb, I’m not letting it take you too. This is my choice, Harrington. I’m going out with you. You can’t change that.”

“Cover me?” Steve’s eyes were genuine now.

“Always do.” She followed him out and shut the door. They crept forward into the grass while the creature clicked those horrid sounds. A lone lamp high above them offered some light. Not enough. Steve whistled for it.

“Come on, buddy,” he eased and Camille held steady, hands tight on the makeshift staff. “Come on, dinner time. Human tastes better than cat, I promise.” His bat swung back and forth at the ready. The demogorgon was the size of a wolf, creeping out to see them

“Steve! Camille! Watch out!” Lucas erupted atop the bus.

“Little busy here!” Steve was intent.

“Three o’clock!” The boy called to them. Nearby, another monster of the same size jumped up.

“Steve, I got you, stay forward.” Camille pressed her back to his, terrified and enraged. Adrenaline pumped into needy veins. More monsters came up and around cars to circle the teens.

“Abort!” Dustin opened the door to call them back. Demogorgons charged, separating the two friends. Steve rolled over a car, smashing one aside while Camille let go. She felt that same fire burn inside her brain, this time it flooded. Limbs gave in, she whirled the bar to wack one away and impaled another. Expertly like she'd trained for this. “Holy shit!” Steve lunged toward her next.

“Duck!” She dropped down when Steve crashed the bat into a third before it could get her. “What was that?”

“I may have watched some action films last night to prepare,” she heaved and kicked a monster, bringing the sharp end down while it screeched in pain.

“Good thinking.” He admitted when even more creatures appeared. Too many. The kids called out for them to return and Steve grabbed for her. “Run!” They barely made it back, slamming the door. Steve set more metal against it to secure it. The beasts were eager and ravenous, shaking the bus from all angles.

“Go!” Camille covered them, ushering them back while Steve swung the bat at one trying to break in. Dustin pulled out his radio to call for help and Camille fell against the side, eyes closing. She concentrated. Blood dripped from both nostrils.

“Hey, it’s just like...” Lucas realized it. “Come on! You can do this!”

“I don’t know how!” She growled and let it become a scream. Forces exploded out. Monsters were sent into all directions.

“Camille?” Max shook her when she sagged down, eyes hazy.

“Holy shit...” Dustin helped pull the teen aside. Max froze when the top of the bus gave calculated bangs. A demogorgon faced them from the opening above and she screamed. Camille grabbed for her at the same time Steve pushed them aside.

“Out of the way!” He threatened quickly but it stopped as if it heard a call. Slowing, they all followed in a trance, running back into the trees. Camille breathed even and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Bring that out earlier next time, Harper.”

“Gladly.” She puffed. “Where’d they go?”

“Steve scared them off…?” Dustin followed them off the bus.

“No...no way, they’re going somewhere.” Steve turned around to see them and Camille wrapped her arms around herself.

“We need to get out of here.” She debated it. Billy was going to be so upset. “We need to follow them.”

#billy hargrove #Billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #Billy hargrove fanfic #billyhargrove #Camille Harper #billy x camille #without the lights #mine #writing #stranger things fanfiction

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writing-after-midnight · 6 years ago

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Dreams of Darkness

Part 9

WRITING MASTERLIST

Hello! Part 9 is here! Drop a message if you want to be added or taken off the tag list. Thank you for reading! xx

**********

It had been a few days since Feyre’s last proper conversation, or rather, argument and panic attack, with Rhysand. She hadn’t been mad at him specifically. Later, after she had calmed down, she was more mad with Tamlin. She couldn’t even get through a conversation with someone and not panic, because of him. Was that really what she had been reduced to?

Rhysand hadn’t met her eye for at least two days afterward. He seemed to be ashamed to have upset her; but they both knew he had said sorry enough times that day. Perhaps he was waiting for her to make the first move this time. Maybe he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. He just didn’t realise that she was just as embarrassed as him about that day. He hadn’t said anything inherently wrong, and she had screamed at him. He had just shown concern about her as a true friend, and she had pushed him away. Feyre wanted to apologise, but could never find the right words when she saw his troubled expression and weary features. Even his hair, which had gleamed in the lamplight the night she met him, appeared to have dulled. Shadows crossed his eyes every time she looked at him.

Mor had kept her quietly but pleasantly busy in town that week as the air had chilled further, and crept closer to winter. She had tasked Feyre with finding a set of clothes for practical use, one for lounging around in, a party outfit and anything else she liked. Amren had even hung around with Feyre for a few days when Mor was working at the boutique, giving helpful judgement when needed. Feyre couldn’t yet express to them how grateful she was, and couldn’t stop saying thank you. She was surprised they weren’t getting annoyed at how many times she had said it.

**********

They had reached the weekend, and luckily, all of the circle seemed to have a day of rest. Mor organised for them all to go over to Rhys’ for the evening and have a film night. Feyre was happy with this. Minimal effort to get ready and she didn’t have to go out.

“Some cheek you have Mor, organising things always at my house.” Rhys grumbled with a wary smile on his face when Mor had suggested it. Mor had just laughed at him, earning a small chuckle from Feyre, and took Feyre to the shops with her to buy snacks for later on.

While Feyre was happy to be out of the house and grateful for Mor encouraging her not to recede into herself, she had found all the shelves stacked high with sweets, crisps and chocolate overwhelming. Mor had told her to put anything she wanted in the basket, but Feyre looked at everything and felt sick. At the moment, it was a miracle if she kept down a normal meal. She was constantly reminded that she felt so full after a few mouthfuls because of her time with Tamlin, and all the memories came flooding back. She came across a bar of Aero chocolate, which used to be her favourite when she was spending all of her day painting in university. However, Tamlin saw her eating a whole bar when she was stressing about a piece due the next day.

“How do girls get boyfriends if they eat this much and start getting fat?” Tamlin had scoffed at her, thinking he was clever. It had been one small bar as comfort, and she hadn’t changed weight over the past few weeks, but Feyre stopped eating them all the same, afraid that Tamlin would pick up on it again and make her feel worse. She realised now how stupid it was to let him get inside her head then, because now she could only stare at the stacked chocolate bars on the shelf.

Mor had noticed Feyre staring at the chocolate, and approached her.

“Are you...?” Mor started

“He even stopped me from eating what I wanted.” Feyre said, anger rising in her core. She didn’t despair anymore. She knew she couldn’t, otherwise she would be an irreparable wreck. No. Now it was just icy calm rage.

Mor must have seen the hatred gleam in Feyre’s eyes, and must have had an idea of what Feyre was thinking.

“You know what, Feyre? Fuck Tamlin. Get the chocolate to spite him. He doesn’t control you anymore.” Mor goaded, and what must have been her hatred for whatever happened between her and Eris came out of her to help encourage Feyre.

It took all her willpower to lift her hand to the row of Aero chocolate and pick up her old favourite mint chocolate, but Feyre did it. She chucked it in Mor’s waiting basket, and they both let out a whoop of happiness. Other shoppers stared at them oddly, but they didn’t care in that moment. They both knew she was capable of recovering.

**********

It was early evening when the Inner Circle started to arrive at Rhys’ house. Azriel opened the door first, carrying a massive tub of popcorn. He took off his bobble hat and scarf and immediately ran to the fireplace in the living room, where he warmed his hands and face on the steady warmth from the coals. He reminded Feyre of a cat, practically hugging the fire on cold winter nights, and she smiled a bit. Cassian and Amren followed close behind, carrying their own snacks. They did the same as Azriel, and Amren shoved him to the side so they could all share the heat. It was like they were heat-seeking missiles. Mor appeared from behind Feyre, looking from them to the mountain of sweets they had accumulated.

“I said I was getting sweets!” Mor pouted.

“Yes,” Amren replied, “But you only get the sweets you like.”

Rhys walked into the room, scanned the heap of sweets and turned to Mor.

“You didn’t get me any Jaffa Cakes!” Cried Rhys.

They carried on bickering, but Feyre didn’t mind. She was finally happy to be in this group, who argued over silly things but still loved each other. She stood in the doorway, quietly watching them all. She noticed Rhys’ attention on her, eyes still wary, but inviting her to come in and talk. She blushed a bit (she wasn’t quite sure why) and sat down on one of the sofas.

“Are we going to watch a movie, or are you lot going to exploit my fireplace?” Rhys joked. Azriel, Cassian and Amren let out some grumbles and reluctantly retrieved a few blankets before sitting down. Amren sat by herself on the armchair, and Cassian and Azriel sat together. Mor waltzed over to them and plopped herself on the sofa sideways, casually stretching her legs out over the laps of Azriel and Cassian. Cassian was already sprawled out on one side of Azriel, leaving Azriel very little room to move. He blushed when Mor stretched out, and sat in the middle, somehow comfortable between the other two. That left Rhys to pick up the remaining blanket and cautiously sit down next to Feyre. It looked like they both didn’t know where they stood with each other. He grabbed the remote and threw the small blanket over them both. She didn’t quite know what to do with herself, so sat next to him awkwardly.

“What do we actually want to watch?” Rhys asked. Immediately, arguments broke out. Mor wanted a chick flick, Amren wanted a horror, Cassian wanted a comedy, Azriel wanted a mystery, Rhys wanted an adventure, and Feyre didn’t really mind. She watched as war broke out, with Cassian leaning over and covering Mor and Azriel’s mouth, and a full scale shouting match taking place between Rhys and Amren. Feyre couldn’t help but laugh.

Almost like breaking out of a trance, Rhys heard her laugh and paused. He shouted over everybody and told them to shut up. He then turned to Feyre.

“What would you like to watch, Feyre?” Rhys asked, staring at her intently.

She wracked her brain for any movies she thought they’d agree on.

“Umm... Does everyone like Harry Potter?” She said. Mor squealed and starting chanting, “Harry Potter Marathon! Harry Potter Marathon!”

Rhys smiled at her, and Cassian and Azriel seemed to agree. Amren gave Rhys a nod, so he switched it on. Everyone seemed to immediately relax and calm down, and Feyre brought her exposed feet up into the warmth of the blanket.

**********

They were halfway through Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, and it must have been close to midnight, but they were all wide awake from the amounts of sugar they had consumed. Feyre had yet to eat anything, but was awake from the energy of the others. As the night had wore on, she had become uncomfortable in her sitting position, and had gravitated steadily closer to Rhys. It wasn’t her fault; he didn’t seem to mind, and he was warm, so she decided it was okay to edge onto his side of the sofa.

The sweets were dwindling, but Cassian eyed the pile, and reached for Feyre’s untouched Aero bar. Oh no he didn’t. Before Feyre knew what she was doing, she grabbed the bar out of Cassian’s hand and unwrapped it. She took a big bite out of it, and succumbed to the mint chocolate bubbles in her mouth. She devoured the entire bar within the minute.

The group gaped at her. They had never seen her eat something so quickly, and so far, keep it down. Feyre sat there and stared at them as if to say, What? The chocolate had brought back her memories of university, before she met Tamlin, and for once, she actually felt content. She grinned at a slack-jawed Rhys and wiped the chocolate from the corners of her mouth and laughed. Then they all started to laugh with her, not believing that it was possible.

**********

It must have been at least 2:30am and Feyre’s eyes were shutting. Everyone was already asleep, and she was the last one awake. Amren was curled into a ball, and Azriel had his arms crossed and head back. Cassian and Mor were in their sprawled positions and Rhys was still half upright, legs brought up onto the sofa, encircling her tucked feet and hand holding up his head. She knew she’d find it awkward to explain in the morning, but she didn’t care. She was too tired. She switched off the TV, curled up into a ball and leaned further into Rhys. He sensed her movement and woke up briefly, to turn and lean back into her. She almost swore she heard him purr contentedly. Her head now rested on his shoulder, and his arm curled around her waist to bring her even closer. His head lolled to the side and rested on top of hers, and she finally closed her eyes.

No one moved the entire night. Feyre had a dream of Tamlin taunting her, but Rhys didn’t disappear this time; he stayed for her and fought Tamlin back. And for once, Feyre didn’t wake up.

***********

Tagging: @call-me-amissa @illyrianbeauty @l0sts0uls1128 @musicmaam @ame233 @pleasantclamwriter @massiverockcollection @dreams-of-feysand @callie-bear15 @huntress-of-velaris @writtenwordheart @rolltide7 @reading-and-regretting @ellenoftroy @kingdomofbrokenhearts @girlgotattitude448 @anr2332 @amylolysis @amazinginglyawesomeperson @tothemaas @feyrecursebreaker

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #feysand fanfiction #feysand fic #feysand fanfic #feysand #feyre #feyre archeron #rhysand #rhys #otp #dod

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torn-and-frayed · 6 years ago

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Taking Requests - Kinda.

Alright, so in the interest of trying to poke my brain back into a working mode, I’ve decided to take some requests with some caveats and stuff attached that I’m about to discuss. As always, I may write yours, I may not, I may not write any. It just depends on whether or not inspiration hits and if my brain cooperates and gets words on a page. I went through and deleted all the old requests from my inbox, so I’m starting out fresh.

As always, I only write Dean and Jensen x Readers, no sis/daughter fics, no smut although I’ll imply it. I also might not say no to trying Jenneel x Reader...maybe. It scares the hell out of me but I might be persuaded.

Please send me any requests in an ASK only so I can have them all in one place. No messages no replies. Those will be deleted.

Everything else you need to know will be below the cut, cuz I’m including a list of prompts that’s gonna get incredibly lengthy.

1. I have several Bingo cards. If you have any ideas you’d like to see me write for these, feel free to send them my way. Make sure they’re fairly specific though. I’m including my unfinished AU bingo card in here too even though the deadline passed because, why not, right?

2. Send me a drabble prompt from this enormous list that I’ve compiled from various lists from @prompt-bank. Don’t send more than 3 prompts for 1 drabble.

“The skirt is supposed to be this short.”

“How long have you been standing there?”

“I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid.”

“Who gave you that black eye?”

“You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”

“I just like proving you wrong.”

“Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”

“Forget it. You fucking suck.”

“Quit it or I’ll bite.”

“If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to god! You’re on the couch for a month!!”

“If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.”

“Take. It. Off.”

“Well, you’re coming home with me whether you like it or not.”

“I’ll kick his ass if you want me to.”

“Stop it! It tickles!”

“It’s okay to cry…”

“And that’s how you ruin a life. Congratulations.”

“D..did you just make that noise?”

“He’s a bad kisser.”

“You can scream if you want.”

“I didn’t know we were keeping track.”

“We’re playing checkers. If you don’t like it, leave.”

“One of them’s missing.”

“Save some for me.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You’re still mad?”

“Come over here and make me.”

“You better watch yourself.”

“Eat your lunch and you wouldn’t be hungry.”

“Why did we have to have kids?”

“Call on Line 1”

“He creeped me out. I’m not gonna lie.”

“I’m done! You can fix it!”

“Can we just watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch?”

“Where did he go?”

“You leave whenever you feel like it.”

“I forgot I was a single parent.”

“Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.”

“You’re going out dressed like that?”

“For the hundredth time, I’m not your babysitter.”

“Frost the damn cupcakes.”

“Well that’s the second biggest news I’ve heard all day.”

“You look pretty hot in plaid.”

“I thought you were dead!”

“I thought it was a one-night-stand…and now we’re married…”

“We’ve become the clingy couple that you used to complain about.”

“Quit touching me. Your feet are cold.”

“You know you want it, sweetheart.”

“I’m your husband. It’s my job.”

“You just wanted them because the light up.”

“That wasn’t very subtle.”

“He thinks he’s a mind reader.”

“It’s just you and me tonight. I was thinking we could have a little fun.”

“I don’t do hugs.”

“Don’t talk anymore.”

“I’m just a guy with a wife, two kids, and a Harley.”

“How do I even put up with you?”

“I said get rid of it.”

“They didn’t just find out. They already knew!”

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are.”

“Can you just man up and change his diaper?”

“Just don’t buy a goat. I don’t care what you do, just no goats.”

“I have a secret.”

“I won’t let you get hurt.”

“You’re strong, baby. You have to be.”

“He’s four years old!!”

“I’ve had enough! I want to be alone!”

“I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

“Me and the boys will handle it.”

“You’re competitive and so am I, and it’s going to lead to a fight.”

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

“You’re a dork, just like your father.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Daddy!”

“I lost our child.”

“That’s my shirt. So is that..wait?”

“My name isn’t Leslie…who’s Leslie?”

“There’s a surprise upstairs for you.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m not your boss? Well then who is?”

“You can’t eat solids, only liquids until Thursday.”

“Come on, baby, up to bed.”

“They got you a present. Isn’t it sweet?”

“Am I scaring you?”

“Run! You said you’d work out with me!”

“After everything…I’d still choose you.”

“And when did you plan on telling me about this?”

“Trust me.”

“Scoot over a little bit, please.”

“You’re so clingy, I love it.”

“You didn’t just wake me up at 2am because you were ‘in the mood’.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“You’re cute when you’re all worried.”

“Stop being grumpy. It’s lame.”

“I don’t need a hero, I need a husband.”

“Don’t shut me out.”

“You got a cute butt.”

“I just got out of the shower, I can’t dance. What if my towel falls off?”

“Don’t be an asshole. Asshole.”

“Do you really think I could ever replace you?”

“Sharing is caring. Now give me your fries.”

“…or we can chill in our underwear.”

“You can’t make up for it by giving me a tic-tac.”

“Keep pedaling and don’t stop, okay?”

“You, me, popcorn, two liter Dr. Pepper, and a movie. You in?”

“Have you seen my contacts?”

“Life is a highway, and I’m always drunk. So I’m not driving.”

“Quit stalling. Where’s your father?”

“You can’t just hug me and think everything’s okay.”

“Is he coming home?”

“I prefer blondes.”

“No more dogs. How hard it it to understand?”

“I let you win.”

“I broke your nose, and I’m sorry for that. But what you’re doing isn’t fair.”

“Can I do your hair?”

“Your favorite superhero can’t be a villain.”

“I told you not to jump on the bed!”

“He’s pampering me, let him be.”

“Ready or not, here I come.”

“I’m worried about losing my job!”

“Oh, did I scare you, big boy?”

“Happy new year!”

“Quit moving, I’m trying to sleep. Wait…are you…what?!”

“You nap, I’ll stay awake.”

“It’s turbulence. It’s normal.”

“Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.”

“I’ll give you a massage.”

“You fell asleep in the tub?!”

“Are you doodling?”

“We’re not playing strip poker. I don’t care what I said when I was drunk.”

“Slushies aren’t just for kids, fuck society.”

“Are you scared…Then why won’t you look at the screen?”

“Enough with the pillow talk, I’m tired.”

“You had a nightmare, tell me what it was about so I can fix it.”

“We need groceries, not just junk food. You’re worse than the kids.”

“Is this our closet? Or your closet?”

“If I win, you do dishes for a week.”

“Fist bumps are cooler than high-fives…”

“Use your words.”

“Hold my hand so he gets jealous.”

“Ew, your hand is sweaty.”

“Get out of my face before I hit you.”

“I don’t care if your 4 or 40, you don’t hit people.”

“You only care about football, beer, and raking leaves.”

“Look! Fireflies!”

“Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”

“I just need ten minutes.”

He ruined me and now I’m nothing.

Do you want to be here? I don’t believe you!

You checked out of this relationship a long time ago.

Are you staying?

It’s the alcohol. You’re not you anymore.

I want to leave and never come back.

I don’t know what it’s like to be happy anymore.

She did this to me.

You’re nothing, but you were my everything.

It’s a two way street. It goes both ways.

They just left and now I’m all alone.

I close my eyes and see your face.

Every song reminds me of you.

I stayed up late last night thinking about what could’ve been.

Fake smiles can hide it all.

You were never there for me, it was always about you.

I can’t hide the way I feel about you anymore.

They’re all for you until you succeed.

If you could see my thoughts, you’d be in tears.

The strongest people have the saddest stories.

It took ahold of him and he was never the same.

It was a feeling she’d never known.

I know I make you cry, but…

You don’t know what she’s like.

He’s missing out. You know that.

People thought it’d last forever.

Sometimes it’s too good to be true.

You can’t just take something like that back.

When he looked into her eyes, he saw everything he threw away.

Don’t do this to me, please, just don’t.

He’s so paranoid, I can’t do anything by myself anymore.

You can’t let him get away with it this time.

As your friend, I’m telling you what I see. It’s not healthy.

You can’t forget a love like that.

It’s never going to work if you keep walking out.

Thousands of miles and one love.

You said forever and I gave you everything.

Once your heart isn’t in it, it’s over.

The first love is the hardest to get over.

This time he thought it was real, it wasn’t the first time he was wrong.

It takes dedication. You can’t pick and choose.

She thought he’d change for her. Sometime she thinks too much.

It was never easy, but this time it was just too hard.

When addiction takes over, there’s no telling what they’ll do to you.

It’s almost like she stopped caring altogether.

Her whole life, she thought heartbreak was a myth. Truth is, it hurts more than anything.

Realization is the first step in recovery.

This was a stepping stone, but this one hurt.

One missed step and their whole world could come crashing down.

You can’t blame just one person.

It got to the point where I couldn’t even pretend to be happy.

They both found comfort in the rain.

She kept it to herself. She didn’t want him to see how much he hurt her.

He wanted to take a break, but that meant it was all over.

Trust was the one thing they needed. Trust was the first thing they lost.

You can’t fake love. When you’re in love, everything changes.

Her whole world was one big lie.

She was always on his mind while he was nowhere close to his.

As the saying goes: you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

“The doctor said it’s normal” - “Well that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“Baby, you’re not a bother.” - “I’m too needy, you don’t deserve it.”

“Come with me to the other room.” - “We’re not going to talk about this now.”

“Did you just hiss at me?” - “Are you judging me?”

“Don’t yell at me like I’m a child!!” - “DON’T THROW SCISSORS!”

“Here, take me blanket/jacket.” - “I told you, I’m not cold.” *shivering*

“Did you hear that?” - “I’m telling you, I’m haunted.”

“I just wanted an easy day with my boyfriend/girlfriend. Is that too much to ask?”

“Why are you awake right now?”

“Come over here and make me.”

“I want my best friend back.” - “Kevin is over there.”

“H-how long have you been standing there?” - “Long enough.”

“You’re lying, you’re blushing.” - “Shut up, no I’m not!”

“No, I’m not talking to you.”

“No more!” - “Okay, fine, I won’t send you any more selfies.”

“What do you have?” - “Pizza rolls and Cup O’ Noodles…that’s about it. Popcorn?”

“The salad here is really good.” - “Do I look like a fucking rabbit?”

“Open this.” - “Can you say please?”

“I just came to say goodbye…” - “Bullshit, you just feel bad.”

“You’re on level 176.” - “Can you judge me harder?”

“Jinx, you owe me a coke.” - *can’t speak until they buy a soda*

“Please don’t leave me.” - “I don’t want to go”

“Babe, I’m sorry.” - “Suck my ass.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire!” - “Seriously, you’re worse than a kid.”

“You can’t ride a bike?” - “Why are we whispering?”

“Is it that time of the month?” - “You literally ask me that whenever I’m mad at you!”

“We’re going downtown.” - “There’s a strip club downtown.”

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.” - “Well, you shouldn’t be saying it then.”

“It’s not mine, I swear.” - “How is it not fucking yours!”

“Take it off.” - “Like a bandaid?”

“I told you…” - “Yeah, yeah, yeah, quit nagging.”

“Boo?” - “You’re my boo.”

“Don’t you ever do that again! You scared the shit out of me!”

“You broke what?!?” - “Don’t worry, I’m okay.”

“Why’re you dressed like that?” - “Does that mean it looks good or should I change?”

“Fine, just do what you have to do.” - “Can you stop being so freaking cute so I can concentrate?”

“…then I picked up your coffee by mistake.” - “All I want is an apology.”

“Well, this is awkward.” - “Don’t touch me.”

“You can’t make me.” - “What are you? Five?”

“You’re a blanket hog!” - “Leave me alone and stop being so selfish.”

“It’s not fair that you’re hot and funny.” - “Look who’s talking…just kidding, your jokes suck.”

“I hate you.” - “No, you don’t.”

“Should I be worried?” - “Is the grass green?”

“You’re kidding me?!” - “Shush, my mom never taught me.”

“I’m your lock screen?!” - “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Will you go with me?” - “As long as you hold my hand.”

“Baby, I’m scared.” - “You don’t have to be; not as long as I’m here.”

“Come inside, I’m sorry.” - “Not until you apologize.” - “I just said I’m freaking sorry.”

“Your voice is sexy.” - “Your ass is sexy.”

“If I asked, you’d say no.” - “You don’t know that.”

“Seriously, the chimney?” - “The squirrel can’t win!”

“32?” - “I’ll prove it!”

“It’s just so little and adorable.” - “That’s what she said.”

“You’re not mature enough to be a parent.” - “Try me.”

“Take a chance.” - “Umm…let me think…no.”

“Game’s over, you son of a bitch!!” - “Okay, just don’t hit me.”

“You forgot about my birthday!” - “In my defense, I forget about a lot of things.”

“You need more stamina.” - “No, I need more steak and eggs. So…get on it.”

“Can you dance with me?” - “You’re not mad?”

“I’ll smash it, I swear.” - “You smash it and we’re done.”

“Move!” - “Why would I move if I’m so comfy where I am?”

“I’m not going in.” - “Then we’re not going to get a treat after.”

“I really would’ve liked it if you told me your parents were coming to town.” - “I really would’ve liked it if you put underwear on before coming into the kitchen.”

“I found it in the recycling bin.” - “Well, you’re the one killing the environment, so who��s really in the wrong here?”

“We bet, and you lost.” - “But tattoos are permanent.”

“Can you quit being so sassy?” - “Can you quit being so controlling?”

“Are you getting jealous?” - “You’re changing your outfit, now!”

“What time is it there?” - “We’re in the same time-zone.”

“Quit flirting.” - “I didn’t mean to-”

“I just don’t know what happened.” - “You’re too good for them.”

“You have a cute nose, don’t make me break it.”

“Tell me what I can do to help.” - “Sing me to sleep.”

“You still need your baby blanket?”

“Did you black out?” - “I feel like I’m gonna puke.”

“Let’s just bury the hatchet.” - “Fuck your hatchet.”

“I bet it’s a boy.” - “I bet it’s a turtle.”

“Spare change?” - “You can’t be responsible, you don’t get your wallet.”

“Cuddle or leave.” - “So is that a no to supper?”

“Are you high?” - “I’m just so fucking tired.”

“Why did I marry you?” - “It took a lot of convincing.”

“Who’s texting you?” - “Umm. nobody.”

“You have two choices.” - “Neither of which I like…”

“I want a dog.” - “I want a cat.”

“Chinese food?” - “Do we even know what that’s made of?”

“These sheets are stained.” - “That’s disgusting.”

“You don’t know how to change a tire?” - “Give it a rest, would you?”

“That’s my ex-boyfriend/girlfriend.” - “Well, kiss me so they see.”

“We got lucky. You’re not gonna do that again, right?”

“Hey, babe, look what I found.” - “GET THAT OUT OF THE HOUSE NOW!!!”

“You’ve been replaced.” - “Alright, we’ll see how you feel when you need me to kill a spider in the shower.”

“Are those slippers?” - “Is that you being mean? AGAIN?”

“You forgot your book.” - “No, I lost my book!”

“You’re weird.” - “Or you’re just basic.”

“We need a vacation.” - “You read my mind too much, it scares me.”

“Why’d you hug him? You love him?”

“Sorry.” - “Good choice.”

“Luck? Nope. Skills.” - “If it’s skill then do it again.”

“Why can’t you just believe me?” - “Because you lied about it before.”

“This bath is too damn hot.” - “This is why we can’t do cute things. You complain too much.”

Make Up Your Own

3. Send me a “What would happen if...?” drabble request. For example: “What would happen if Dean caught you eating his last slice of pie?”

4. Submit a GIF and I’ll try to write you a drabble based on the GIF.

Tagging for signal boost: @impalaimagining @deanssweetheart23 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @ruined-by-destiel @sis-tafics @supernatural-jackles @winchesters-favorite-girl @feelmyroarrrr @docharleythegeekqueen

#requests are sorta open #we'll see if i can do it

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