#LEAVE THAT STARTLING COPS BULLSHIT TO YOUR DAD

[alternativegirl23]

I feel like the first two chapters have been filler. But I promise it gets better!

Deal With The Devil- Chapter 2

Morning came too quickly. Your eyes bleary, mouth cotton dry and sore. Slowly sitting up, you wiped your eyes to remove the sleep. You yawned wide and stretched what muscles you could feel were tense. Stomach grumbling, but turning with nausea at the same time. 

Slowly swinging your legs over the bed, and heading towards your bathroom off to the left. You were startled at your reflection. Red lipstick smeared away, hair askew from bedhead, and probably the worst morning breath ever. You remember Lee helping you in the bathroom, embarrassed that you couldn't hold the wine you imbibed. 

 You just wanted to forget how you felt. How he made you feel. Truthfully, you were broken up with several months ago by your ex. He just "wanted space for a while". You knew it was bullshit.

So, you just wanted to drown your sorrows. As well as feel more relaxed around Lee. He had always made you a little nervous, being too handsome for his own good. All he had to do was talk or look at you a certain way and you felt your heart beat a little faster. Hands suddenly clammy and your breath more shallow.

You slowly made your way down the stairs. Holding onto the railing so you wouldn't lose your balance. The kitchen calling to you with the wafting smell of bacon, eggs, pancakes, and coffee. Yawning and putting your hair up into a ponytail, you came to see Lee in the kitchen making a full breakfast. 

  Slightly confused, you wondered where your parents were. He seemed to be able to read your thoughts. "They left to go for a drive", he answered in his drawl that you loved. You nodded and went to sit down on one of the chairs situated under the medium sized island.

 Smiling at you, Lee finished up cooking all the food, setting them on the island. "Eat up, go on '', he encouraged, grabbing both of you plates and coming to sit down by your side. You half bent over the island, feeling too lazy to get up. The fabric of your shirt slid up slightly, and you felt Lee's eyes on you. "Yes?", you teasingly asked.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head, knowing he'd been caught.  

"You just look real cute, that's all" he smiled, a crooked grin as he looked at you. You smiled in return, sitting down as you started taking slow mouthfuls of food. A few moments passed, both of you trying to decide who should speak first. Lee spoke up, setting down his mug if coffee.

"You feeling any better?", he asked. 

"Yeah, my head is still pounding that's all. Shouldnt you be leaving soon?" You looked at him a moment, eating more forkfuls of food and chugging down the coffee in hopes the caffeine would help your headache.

"I'll still do my patrols but your dad actually offered me to stay here a bit. Says so I can get out of that motel I been stayin' in", he anwsers. 

"That's nice of him. It must be really lonely, since, you know'". A slight pause. "Ive been really lonely since my breakup. I cant imagine what divorce is like. Im glad youre here. We all are", you finish.

 Lee gave you a confused look, tilting his head and scooting closer to you in his chair."You didn't tell me you were single", he said. You shrugged, eyes downcast. Voice almost a whisper.

"I didn't think it was a big deal", you answered solemnly. 

"It is to me. Might explain why you've been drinking a bit more" Lee drawls, as if he knows you melt at hearing him talk. You nod. 

"You know you ain't as stealthy as you seem", he muses. You look up, face plastered with mild shock. You hadn't expected the conversation to veer this way. Lee continued, "You forget Im a cop sweetheart. I see everything. Ive seen the looks and smiles you give me. Ive noticed you've seen me given' em to you too". He moves even closer in his chair now, inches away from you. His right hand, large and warm, resting just above your knee. You had to ignore the vibrating sensation crawling up your leg. 

 "But what I wanna know is what exactly it is you want darlin'", he moves even closer to your face. A thumb resting on your cheek. Running small movements up and down as you keep staring at him. You're at a loss for words. You shake your head, whether to clear your thoughts or gather them, you're not sure. Lee smirks widely to himself, exposing some teeth. 

  He knows exactly what effect he has on you. But can he keep up the game? Before even thinking, you lean forward and kiss him deeply. Leaning into the kiss as you put your hands on his face, licking his bottom lip to see if he'll let you in. You start to moan before you can restrain it. 

 Little whimpers at first then bigger pleas. He only gives in a little, moving into you with his hands on your shoulders now. His hands slowly wrap around your back. Please God, just give a woman something. He deepens the kiss and slowly invades your mouth. 

He can't seem to keep noises to himself either. Letting out little groans and pants, as if you were sucking the life from him. Deepening it even more, you think maybe he'll finally act on how he feels. But as soon as it started, he stops. Fuck. 

  He pulls away quickly, sighing to himself as if he's disappointed for losing control. "Honey, Im goin' through a lot right now. I think it best we keep things low til dust settles. Alr'ght?" You nod your head, dropping it low in slight disappointment. You understood where he was coming from, but it didnt mean it still wasnt a rejection. Lee tucked his  right index finger under your chin, making you face him again.

   You gave a sad half smirk. "I understand. Im sorry. I just got carried away," you finally said. Lee returned the same smile, resting his right hand on your knee now. "Im sorry if I lead ya on, darling. I really do like you. I just dont wanna jump into anything too fast", he said. You nodded your head, your left hand softly covering his, trying to reassure him.

 "No, dont be sorry. We've both been really lonely. I shouldn't have jumped at you when I saw an opening", your voice calm and even. Lee smiled and leaned in to give you a friendly hug, both of you leaning forward on the stools then sitting back down. He had a different glint in his eyes now. Mischievous or calculating you couldn't tell.

A few moments of silence. He rose from his stool to stand in front of you. Hands planted solidly on the island on either side of you. You shift forward to face him. Breath hitching in your throat because he was so close again. He smirks to himself, just wanting to push your limits a little further. 

  But he wont, he's a patient man. At least when it comes to you. Lee gets up and starts to hand wash the dishes. You get up and start to help dry and put them away. Eyes couldnt help but keep returning back to Lee. 

A white tee shirt hugged the little pudge of his stomach. Light wash jeans gripping his thick thighs. You had to practically clench your thighs together. So touch starved, you would have humped his leg like a dog if he asked.

"Lee? Thank you for making breakfast", you said coyly. He gave a little grin. "You're welcome", was all he gave in return as he put the last dish away for you. He turned on his heel, heading towards the living room now. Now or never. My last chance. 

With a quick inhale, you walked away from the sink. A few paces closer to him but he was almost out of the room. "Lee?", you asked with a hint of panic in your voice. He turned toward you, a brow raised in your direction. "Yes Darlin'?", he drawled. There it was again. Does he know hes toying with you?  

"How about a deal", you were nervous now. Hands clammy, wiping them on your jeans. He slowly strode over, licking his bottom lip and pulling into his teeth. Lee stops a few inches from you, eyeing you up down.

 "Whats that cutie?" You blushed a little at his comment. His fingers brushed past your cheek as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. Clearing your throat, finding the courage needed. You looked him in the eyes, not wanting to look away. 

 "How about when everything settles on your end…we have a sort of…relationship", you stated. His brows raised, unsure of what you meant. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts. This was still coming out more nervous than you wanted. Just once you wish you could be confident.

Lee chuckled softly, shaking his head. His hand softly grips your chin, tilting your head more up to his eye level. "Just say what you wanna say, honey", he spoke softly, more gravel in his tone than normal. Like he knew what you wanted, he just wanted to hear you say it. You kept eye contact still, wanting to appear unafraid. 

 "Were friends but we also fuck on occasion. Once your divorce is finalized, I mean. I know we're both lonelier than ever. So why not keep each other company?" Both of you stared into each other's souls, trying to figure the other out.

Would a man a decade younger than your dad be interested in someone like you? He had to be with all the looks and touches, right?  He gave you a neutral expression, not giving away what he was thinking at all. Come on, just tell me already.  You stepped back a foot or two, suddenly feeling enclosed by his presence. 

The weight of him is too much to bear. His scent is too dizzying to make you think straight. His thumb brushes your jaw tenderly. He notices and gives a little smirk. "Sounds fun to me darlin", he coos. 

You couldn't believe it. "I have one condition", you add. He still stares at you intensely. Lee gives a little nod for you to continue. "Let me call you Master, maybe Sir. Deal?", you hold out your left hand. He shakes his head with a laugh, stepping closer to you. 

 Lee holds out his right hand to shake your left. "Did I just make a deal with the devil, honey?" You shook his hand firmly, letting it drop after a few seconds. "Maybe you did", you say. A Cheshire cat-like smirk appears on your face. Now the fun can really begin.          

#Lee Bodecker #the devil all the time #smut #Sleazy Sherriff

[out-of-context-batfam]

Nightwing (2016) #12

#THAT WAS ENTIRELY UNNECESSARY DICK GRAYSON #LEAVE THAT STARTLING COPS BULLSHIT TO YOUR DAD #THIS ISNT JIM GORDON DICK ARE YOU TRYING TO GET SHOT #BRUCE MAY BE PROUD OF THIS BUT WE EXPECT BETTER #dc comics #batfam #batfamily #out of context #Nightwing #dick Grayson #glutemaster #funny #dammit dick #appearing out of thin air #startling cops #not a great plan #not very nice

[rudysrings]

Twin Pogues of the OBX - 9

A/N: I’ll explain my disappearance later. I just want to get this out for now. It’s a long one. But I’m happy to be back :P Love and miss y’all. 

Warnings: Violence, mentions of sex, mentions of drugs, police, DCS, mature themes. 

Words: 5.5k YEESH ALSO AHH MIDSUMMERS :D

Masterlist

Kiara and you arrived at the Chateau together, well after sunset. The silhouettes of Pope, JJ and your brother were clear against the moonlight, quiet as they lie in the hammock.  

You and Kiara slipped into the netting silently. Your shoulder was up against JJ’s bare bicep, and you fought the urge to move closer.

“You really think it’s out there? No bullshit?” 

You felt JJ’s gaze on you, a million different emotions brought to the surface by his mere stare. 

John B admitted that he did believe after hearing your father’s voice on the tape.

“Well we’re going to find it, you know. Even JJ believes,” said Kiara, looking over at you two.

Surprised, John B asked, “Oh my God, JJ, do you really believe?”

On instinct, even though he clearly hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation, JJ replied, “Totally.” Then paused, confused. “Wait, are we talking about four mil?”

“Four hundred mil!” 

All of you chorused, causing JJ to roll his eyes and turn onto his side, facing you. “I’m going to dream about shipwrecks. Good night, Bird!” 

“Goodnight, bird shit!” Pope mocked.

All of your friends were asleep. You could hear John B’s loud snores and Kie’s soft murmurs. Pope’s body was halfway off the hammock in his state of unconsciousness.

You turned, lying down on your side and startling slightly at the wide eyes looking back at you.

Before you could chide him for creeping, JJ whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Immediately, you whispered back, “I’m sorry, too...Are we gonna be ok?”

JJ hushed you. “It’s you and me, Trouble. We’re always gonna be ok.”

The two of you didn’t say anything else. You didn’t need to. 

The five of you set off in search of the coordinates the following morning. There was an unmistakable air of excitement but also somehow nonchalance. Everyone wanted this to be it, but was too afraid to believe in it.

JJ was at the wheel of the HMS Pogue, his sunglasses and signature red cap making him look especially good in the Carolina sun. 

You noticed yourself noticing things like this even more than you did before. This morning, you woke up before everyone else and found yourself admiring the early morning silhouette of the blonde that currently occupied all your thoughts. Pope caught you, incredibly confused why you were staring at his best friend like a dazed puppy. Luckily, your reputation pulled through and he simply scolded you for being stoned so early. Yeah, that’s right, simply looking at JJ made you seem high. You were in a shitload of trouble. 

You were supposed to be helping Kiara release the rope with the drone attached at the end, hurriedly tossing it into the water against the raging winds. Y’all had picked the worst time to do this.

You caught yourself distracted by JJ, who was furiously spinning the wheel to John B’s directions. There was something about that shirt. He flicked his head back to see how you guys were doing and scrunched his eyebrows inquiringly when he noticed you watching him. You shook your head, trying not to get embarrassed. Too late. “Y/N!” Kiara slapped your shoulder, forcing you to pay attention to the rope that the current was currently tugging away. Shit. You refocused, but not before catching the upward tilt on JJ’s lips at your ridiculousness.

960 feet.

 970.

 980.

 “I’m at the bottom!”

“See anything?” Called JJ.

“It’s the Royal Merchant,” You heard your brother say, raising the hair on your arms. 

You and Kiara rushed over, your arm on John B’s shoulder as you tried to look over him at the monitor. He was right, you could see old, rusted over debris from the wreck scattered all over the ocean floor. But...no gold.

You looked at your feet in disbelief. Clenching your fists as your heart dropped. You met JJ’s eyes, shaking your head sadly. He nodded at you, shrugging as if to say. What did we expect? You didn’t miss his heavy disappointment. That look steeled you. Gold or no gold, you’d find a way to get JJ out of this shithole.

“Somebody beat us to it,” John B muttered.

“Or it was never there,” Grumbled JJ. 

You and John B dropped the pogues off, each of them saying goodbye rather emotionally, drained from the loss of something you never had. Kiara ruffled your hair, reminding you, “Chin up, yeah?” as she left. Pope simply pulled all of you into a quick hug, giving you a pat on the back. 

JJ, as always, was more subtle, more secretive. As John B steered the boat towards the docks, he sat next to you, pulling your hand into his lap without looking at you. He rolled his lips, before bringing his elbows onto his knees and leaning his forehead on his hands that encased one of yours. He breathed deeply. Once. Twice. Three times. Then he looked at you, offering you a smile and twirling your ring. He echoed his words from last night. “We’re gonna be ok.”

You nodded fiercely, smiling. “I know, Bear. We always are.”

You and John B walked up to the Chateau alone, gear in hand. He draped an arm around you, pecking the top of your hair. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I really thought it would.”

You didn’t want to admit it, but you did, anyway. Maybe your brother needed to hear it or maybe you needed to say it; whatever the reason was, you said, “Yeah, me too. I really hoped Dad didn’t give his life for nothing.”

John B pulled you closer into his side as you walked, for once not disputing your claim on your father’s death. 

The two of you walked inside, only to see...fucking Cheryl from foster care on your couch.

You startled immediately, pulling your brother behind you. “Hey, guys,” the devil incarnate greeted.

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the table as John B sat down. You sighed. “You know, Cheryl, it’s kind of a bad time for a check-in.”

She smiled. “Not a check in. We’re here to take you.”

Your eyes widened. “Today? Really?”

“It’s just for a few weeks until your hearing.”

John B spoke up. “No, no, no. Cheryl, look, we’re not going into foster care, okay? We’re not going to go be a part of your little system.”

“Kids, this is Deputy Thomas.”

Before you knew it, Deputy Thomas had you and your brother in the back of his car, driving you to your fate. 

John B pulled a clever trick though, and as he picked up the picture of your dad that Cheryl had been foolish enough to let you guys grab, you both looked at each other once, before breaking into sprints in opposite directions.

You ducked under some trees, peeking over the corner of your shoulder to see Deputy Thomas chasing your brother. He’d have to get away somehow. You had to trust that. You looked forward, running through the neighborhoods you knew so well and dialing the first person you thought of.

“Yo! Me and Po-” 

“JJ!” 

You made your way towards Heywards, figuring he must be with Pope. “Woah, what’s with the excitement. I know I’m a riot, but-”

“JJ, shut up! It’s DCS.”

“What? Are you alright? What’s going on?”

“I got away. I’ll see you at Heywards.”

“Wait, Y/N-”

You hung up as you neared the store, seeing JJ out front, staring at his phone in concern, a deep set frown on his face.

“JJ!”

You nearly crashed into him, but stopped short, your hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath.

Pope came out, too, noticing you. “Ayo, Y/N. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“What? No. I just got away from Deputy Thomas.”

“What the fuck? Did he do something to you?” 

“Why are you running from the cops?”

JJ and Pope questioned you immediately. “I-no, I’m fine. Like I said, I ran away. They’re trying to take us away until our hearing in a few weeks. But I don’t know if John B got away. Listen, I shouldn’t be here. They’re gonna come looking for me.”

“Then come with us,” insisted JJ.

“No, I wouldn’t put it past them to search the waters.”

“Stay here, then,” Pope offered. “You know my Pops will cover for you.” 

You agreed. JJ furrowed his brows. “Then we shouldn’t go. We can’t leave her like this, Pope.”

You shook your head, grabbing JJ’s hand. “No, you guys go. Anyways, if they turn up here, they’ll be more suspicious if y’all are here. They’ll expect me to be with you. Trust me.”

Pope nodded, going back inside to let his dad know. JJ held your shoulders, leaning down to look at you. “Be careful, yeah? Nothing stupid.”

“You’re one to talk.” You tried not to notice how close he was to you. 

I’m fucking serious, dude. There’s nothing I can do if they take you away from me. I don’t want us in the position, got it?”

You nodded, taken aback by his seriousness but grateful for it nonetheless. 

He pulled his cap off, messing your hair before slipping it over your head. “Stay low, Trouble,” He said as he walked off towards the docks.

You walked inside, smiling at Pope’s dad. “Thanks for this, Mr. Heyward.”

He nodded at you. “Any time. I know all about that foster system. You’re better off dead than stuck in that, kid.”

You agreed, taking some boxes from his hands and getting right to work.

You spent the day at Heywards, hiding out in his freezer when the Deputy came over.

That evening, Kiara dropped by Heywards and convinced you to come to one of those old movie nights that you usually spent your summers at--summers free of treasure hunts. She explained that you’d be hidden amongst everyone from town and JJ and Pope would be there too, so there was no reason for you not to come. 

JJ held your hand tightly, his eyes darting around the crowd constantly. You hadn’t questioned his jitters or why his grip on his bag was so tight, but your fingers were starting to give to the pain of being crushed.

“J. Shit. My hand, bro.”

He looked down, instantly letting go and looking apologetic. 

“Don’t worry about it.” You shook your head as you walked over to Kiara.

You lied down and didn’t bother listening to the conversation, too worried about your brother either being dead in a ditch somewhere or in Deputy Thomas’ clutches. He hadn’t called once.

Until you heard, “JJ, please tell me you did not bring a gun here.”

You sat up immediately, “JJ what?”

“There are children here,” You heard Kiara say.

You raised your eyebrows at him, ignoring Pope and Kiara’s words as you stared. “Are you kidding me, dude? A fucking gun?”

He had the decency to look a little ashamed, staring at his feet and biting his lip.

During the movie, the boys ventured off to take a piss and you and Kiara joked that they must be holding it for each other. Honestly it was ironic given the amount of shit they gave you and Kiara for going to the bathroom together only to do it themselves.

It was not more than a few moments later that you heard glanced over to see JJ and Pope gone. You grabbed Kiara and walked behind the giant projector screen, shocked to see Pope in Topper’s hold and Rafe and Kelce grappling with JJ. “Let go of him, Topper! Fascist Asshole!” Kiara cried, using JJ’s bag to hit Topper. 

“Get off him!” You turned to JJ and shoved Rafe, grabbing his shoulders and pulling his jaw down to meet your knee. “2 on 1...real fair, Rafe,” you sneered into his ear as he groaned, clutching his smarting jaw.

You saw Topper toss Kiara and instantly reddened with rage. You grabbed his hair, pulling him to the ground with force. He grabbed your ankle and you would have fallen if JJ wasn’t right behind you, helping you up. Kelce and Rafe were on you again and you couldn’t get out to help Pope, who Topper was about to suffocate. 

“Come on, man, admit it! Admit you did it, bitch!” He threatened Pope and you screamed.

“Get the fuck off of him, Topper! What the fuck! Please!”

You heard Rafe tell Topper to finish him off and let out a strangled cry, locking eyes with JJ, who for once, looked scared, too.

All of a sudden, it was hot. Really, fucking hot. You looked around to see the movie screen going up in flames; you heard shouts as people fled the burning scene.

Kiara. Instantly, the kooks let you go. Kiara helped Pope up and JJ coughed, nearly falling forward, but you caught him, slinging his arm around your shoulder. “You’re a fucking idiot, J,” you hissed.

He ignored you, simply pressing his lips to your cheek. “What was that for?”

“That was for bruising the fuck out of Rafe Cameron’s jaw,” JJ said smugly.

You rolled your eyes. “That’s one of the moves I picked up from you, actually.”

“Exactly. You did me proud.”

“No, what the fuck, JJ? They almost killed you guys. Kie saved your asses.”

He leaned on you heavily as you walked and his off-beat steps had you realizing that he was faking the limp. You hid your smile. 

You couldn’t stay at the Chateau anymore, not with DCS watching it, so all of you apart from Kiara crashed at Heywards.

JJ and you took the couch, not unused to spending the night together on all sorts of odd surfaces.

As you lie down, head on his shoulder and body overlapping his slightly, he pet your hair. The silence was absolutely insufferable.

“Hey, Trouble?” JJ asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hummed.

He sighed, pondering his words. “I know you’re scared to…to change anything between us.”

You didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes shut as you just listened. 

“I just-I just want to tell you that I...I would take care of you, Y/N. I swear on it. I would. I’d...I’d-fuck, why am I so bad at this?”

He took a breath again and you could imagine the adorable look of frustration on his face. You felt his arm raise, probably to run through his already messy hair. You bit your lip to keep yourself from smiling. 

“I just want you, yeah? Any way you’ll have me. Just...think about it.”

He settled in, then, his breathing evening out. You peeked your eyes open to see his shut; he looked dead asleep.

Your fingers slowly made their way into his. You ducked your head further into his chest and felt him squeeze your palm. Oh, so he was awake?

Blushing, you decided this was a problem for tomorrow, and instead let his presence lull you into slumber, dreaming of John B being chased around town by Deputy Thomas.

When you woke, JJ was gone. You heard voices in the store though and made your way towards them. You found Kiara, Pope and JJ. Your eyes met Kiara and she shook her head sadly. No John B. You saddened visibly.

“Morning!” JJ greeted with a grin, throwing some sort of rubber ball from the tourist section at you. You caught it, walking up to him and placing it at his chest. 

“Morning, J,” You said, surprisingly shy.

“Hey, Pope. Someone here to see you.” Mr. Heyward entered. “Y/N, you don’t want this one to see you right now.”

JJ took one look outside and shoved you down by the shoulders, pushing you behind one of the shelves. “Stay down!” He whispered.

You heard Pope say “Evening, Officer and your eyes widened.”

“I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property.”

Oh, fuck, Pope got caught. Your heart sped up, and you twisted your ring in worry.

You heard the distinct metallic sound of handcuffs and next thing you knew, Pope was being taken away, arrested by Shoupe. You heard everyone go outside but couldn’t make out any words. You waited a few minutes, waiting for the sound of the car driving away.

You got up, heading outside to see Kiara, Mr. Heyward and Pope? You rushed over to him, pulling him into a hug. “Oh, thank God, I thought he arrested you, man.”

Pope was rod straight. You pulled away, confused. Kiara was standing there in utter shock. Wait, where was JJ?

“What-what happened? Why are you like that? Who died?” You chuckled half-heartedly.

Mr. Heyward shook his head, going inside.

You looked at Kiara and she said, “JJ told Shoupe that he did it. Shoupe took him away.”

Your stomach fell. Clutching the cloth of your shirt, you asked, “JJ did what?” 

You blinked away the tears before your friends could see them. “We have to do something. We have to bail him out.”

“There’s nothing we can do, Y/N,” Kiara insisted.

You looked at Pope, who looked lost. 

“Well, if you guys won’t, then I will!”

Pope grabbed your arm, pulling you back. “No! Look, Y’N. Kiara’s right, there’s nothing we can do right now. And you can’t do anything, you can’t risk getting taken away by DCS.”

“FUCK DCS, Pope! JJ’s in jail!”

“They won’t keep him there for long, Y/N,” Kiara said, stepping closer. “He’ll be ok.”

You thought it over. You couldn’t think of anything you could do except stomp over to the sheriff’s office and demand that JJ be released, but that wouldn’t go over well for either of you. “Fine. You’re right. We just have to hope for the best.”

Kiara had you spend the night at her house, both in an effort to cheer you up and because it was Midsummers the next day and the only way she said she’d go is if you came with her. It wasn’t a bad hiding place. There were no cops at Midsummers so you’d be alright.

She saw you fidget all day, restless. Your brother was missing and JJ was rotting away in a cell as far as you knew. It got you thinking, though, if anything were to happen to JJ, you would regret most not coming clean to him that you liked him more than a friend. Yeah, you were admitting it to yourself. You cared about JJ in a way you had never cared for anyone ever. Even though that thought was enough to scare you to your bones, right now, all you could think about is how much you wish he knew. You hoped you knew without you having to say it, but he deserved to hear it. 

Kiara took the liberty of trying to distract you as best she knew how. She helped you get dolled up for that evening. She was wearing the most beautiful deep lavender dress you had ever seen. She offered you her entire closet and she was a little disappointed when you chose a halter jumpsuit, but when she saw how nice the rich, sunset orange went with your skin tone, and how the low cut neckline down to almost your waist and lack of a back flaunted some skin, she caved. 

She did your makeup so that you glowed golden and your hair was free. You let yourself get lost in the process, realizing you had missed out on stuff like this after your mom left.

It was tradition to wear a flower crown, and you chose peach colored hibiscuses to decorate yours, weaving them together with jasmines in between to make it smell nice. In the end, as you and Kiara stood side by side, you thought you looked like prairie girls, but she said that was the aesthetic and you should shut your mouth and go with the theme. 

The party was loud. It wasn’t loud like the keggers you had on the cut, it just screamed money and status. Every little thing was done up in a way to show something off. The food they chose was to prove that they had a taste for the richer things, which were much worse than a meal at the Wreck in your opinion. The drinks were aged to perfection and people spent more time staring and discussing the bottles than drinking, completely juxtaposed to the fast pace of the lines at the beer kegs that you were used to. Saying you felt out of place was an understatement.

You knew Pope was working the party and Kiara and you caught sight of him pretty quick. They exchanged some witty banter and you raised an eyebrow at Kiara, only for her to blush and shake her head, wordlessly denying anything. You did your usual handshake with Pope and pulled him in for a hug. “I like the fit,” he complimented. You smiled. “Hey, have you heard from JJ?” Pope asked. 

You looked down, shaking your head. “I-No. He has to be okay, though.”

“Yeah, he’ll be alright. He’s got the survival instincts of a cockroach.”

Pope frowned. “It’s all my fault.”

“Uh-you didn’t do this, Pope.”

You nodded. “Kie’s right, Pope. You can’t blame yourself for this. JJ made his decision on his own.”

You pulled Kiara towards you. “Come on, let’s dance. I need to not think about anything, right now.” You called out to Pope, “Catch you later!”

You were dancing with Kiara and a couple other kooks she was chill with. The song taste wasn’t your favorite, but it was something to get your mind off all your problems. 

When a particularly ear-bleeding song came on, you couldn’t help yourself. Holding Kiara’s upper arm, you admitted to her, “I’m really fucking worried about, John B. I’m hoping he’s ok and just being stupid by not calling me. I don’t know what I’m going to do if something happens to JJ. I’m worried that even if he gets out, his dad-”

Kiara wrapped her arms around you, shushing you. “I know, babe. I can’t say much to help you, but have a little faith, hmm? We’ll deal with whatever happens.”

You nodded, before looking over her shoulder to see Pope and a blonde waiter. Wait, no, that wasn’t a blond waiter. No one else on the cut had those rings and that tousled hair.

“JJ!” You cried, breaking out of Kiara’s embrace. He must not have heard you over the music, because he didn’t look at you, still talking to Pope. Your legs couldn’t carry you fast enough.

You shoved indignant people out of your way, ignoring their shrieks and curses. Your hair flying, jewelry clinking together, you threw your arms around him, forcing him to take a few steps back from the momentum. He held your shoulders, pulling you away from him. “Ma’am--wait, Y/N?” 

“JJ! You’re okay!” 

He smiled, pulling you into a hug. He dropped his head to your hair and you held tight to his neck, face tucked into his neck. “Thank God,” You whispered.

You looked up at him, noticing now the clear dark marks of fresh bruises all over the left side of his face. His lip was busted open and his eye slightly swollen.

You touched his cheek. “J, did Shoupe-”

JJ shook his head. “Oh, nah. This was-this was my dad. Has the right jab.” 

You were quiet for a moment, before saying, “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“No, no, no.” JJ’s grip tightened on your arms. “You can never go near him, got it?”

“J, I-”

“Swear you won’t, Y/N,” He insisted, looking scared. 

“I won’t,” You gave in. 

Something came over you then. Some rush of emotion, a rush you had been experiencing more and more often around the blonde. “J, I-I want to talk about what you said that night-”

JJ’s eyes widened almost comically. A shocking flush crept up his neck and you almost smiled at his adorable awkwardness. He glanced at Pope behind you, reminding you that he was watching your entire exchange. “Hold that thought, yeah?”

You nodded. He pecked your cheek, making it heat up as you looked anywhere but at him. He let go of you, stepping away and into the crowd. 

Pope looked at you incredulously. 

“What?”

He parted his lips in disbelief, waving at the air between you and where JJ stood, like his question was obvious.

You simply repeated your question.

Pope sputtered. “What you ask? Since when has that become a thing? I didn’t know y’all were having a thing.”

“We’re not!” You said quickly.

Pope laughed. “Whatever you say, Y/N.”

You looked around the crowd, not spotting JJ. You frowned, where had he gone?

Your question was answered pretty quick. You noticed a commotion across the party and saw JJ being escorted out of the party. He downed a gentleman’s drink and the action was surprisingly attractive. 

You noticed Kiara shouting, trying to prevent him from being thrown out. Grabbing onto Pope, you made your way over to them.

“Mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie!” JJ called, walking out. You saw him meet up with John B. Your breath came back to you seeing your brother alive and intact.

JJ noticed you out of the corner of his eye and grinned wide, holding his arms out for you. You didn’t think twice, letting him spin you around and grab your hand as the five of you ran off.

A fire was soon set up at Rixon’s Cove, and JJ had changed into normal clothes, though you had to admit, you didn’t mind the look he was sporting before.

JJ lay across a log, his head in your lap, looking up at your face, which was lit up from the fire light. He didn’t smile, didn’t say anything, just looked at you as you ran your hands through his hair, refamiliarizing yourself with him even though he had only been gone about a day. His absence reminded you how used to seeing him you were, how used to touching him. 

“Alright, my dad’s going to kill me, anyways. So what’s this mandatory meeting about?”

You were wondering that, too, and looked up at your brother, waiting for an explanation.

JJ sat up beside you. “We might as well tell them, man, before we get gaffed.”

“Gaffed?”

You soon learned that the gold never went down with the Royal Merchant. It was on Tannyhill. What concerned you, actually what made your blood boil, is how your brother had gone about finding this information.

Kiara voiced your concerns. “You were in Chapel Hill with Sarah Cameron while Y/N thought DCS had for sure taken you away?”

You stood up, glaring at John B. “You better be fucking with me. Not one call? What, you were too busy macking on here and prancing around the mainland to let your goddamn sister know that you were alive?! I was so scared, you ass!”

John B shuffled his feet, before walking over to you. “You’re right. Ok? You’re always right. I didn’t think. I’m-I’m sorry for worrying you, kid, alright?”

You were prepared for him to blow up at you. A sincere apology was the last thing you expected. “Maybe Cameron’s a good influence on you. First time I’ve heard you say sorry since you broke my collarbone in the fourth grade.”

“That was JJ’s fault, though.”

“That’s debatable.” 

John B pushed your forehead and you sat back down.

The storm came on suddenly. Not a regular storm either—a full on, thundering, lightning outer banks storm. The four of you huddled in the van as your brother went to meet Sarah Cameron and figure out the exact location of the gold. 

You groaned, pulling your hair up away from your sweaty neck. “Fuck, it’s hot in here.”

You began to get up. “Where you goin’?” JJ asked.

“It’s too fucking hot. I’m going to step out for a sec.” You paused before saying, “Come with.”

Pope began to get up, too, but Kiara stopped him, hissing something in his ear. 

JJ followed you out, falling in step with you as you made your way into the cool night air. Your pace was slow, unhurried, unbothered by anything right now, because everyone you cared about was safe. 

But, that thought from earlier in the day, that regret, still remained. You looked at JJ and he offered you a shy smile, offering you his hand and quirking an eyebrow in question. You took his hand, your arms brushing against each other as you walked.

“I almost didn’t recognize you today. You look like a right kook.”

You wrinkled your nose. “That’s offensive.”

JJ shoved your shoulder with his. “No, that’s not what I meant. You look great. For real. You look like the goddamn outer banks sunset threw up all over you. I mean that in the best way possible.” His eyes sparkled with eagerness. 

You smiled at his attempt at complimenting you. “I’ll take it as such. Thank you, JJ. You looked nice in your disguise, too.”

“Nah, it was too stuffy for me.”

“That’s ‘cause you probably haven’t had a smoke in a hot minute.”

JJ snorted. “That could be it.” 

You were quiet for a moment, just walking, stealing glances at each other. “JJ,” You said, stopping. 

He stopped, too, turning towards you. “Yeah?”

“You remember all those chick flicks John B used to drag us to on the weekends? The ones where the heroine would be all ‘my world revolves around you’ and ‘I can’t breathe without you’ and ‘you give my life meaning’ and all that?”

JJ scrunched his nose. “How could I forget that kind of trauma?”

You stepped closer to him, taking both of his hands in yours. “I’m only going to say this once, we are never to speak of it again and if anyone asks I will deny it.”

JJ choked on a laugh. “Alright, Trouble, you have my attention. I’m listening.”

“That’s just it, J. You have my attention. All of it. All the time. Those romantic movies are the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen. They’re absolutely, clinically insane. I don’t get it and I probably never will. All I know is that when I’m drowning, you’re the first person I think about. I know that you’re the only one who has ever seen that I’m so incredibly fucked up and not wanted to fix my behavior. I know that when you’re hurt, which is way too often, I go absolutely batshit with worry, seriously it’s a problem. I know that, especially recently, I can’t stand the sight of you macking on anyone.”

JJ looked like he was losing control, and you hoped that it wasn’t in a bad way. His breaths were coming faster and his hands gripped yours tight. “What are you saying, Trouble?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m saying I’m in love with you, JJ.” JJ's face broke into a blinding smile, encouraging your words. “I can’t promise you that I love you like in John B’s movies—”

“--Thank God.”

“--But I can promise that the way I love you is crazy in its own right. The good kind of crazy. I’m still scared. God, I’m still so scared, JJ. I don’t know how to do this. I’m still so afraid that I’m going to fuck up in some way. So that’s why I’m tell you this now.” You held his face in your hands, pulling him close so that he would hear your words, really hear them. “If you let me love you, I swear on poguelife that as long as it’s in my hands, I will never make a decision that will hurt you. That I promise you.”

You noticed JJ tearing up. He swiped his eyes with his thumb. “Fuck, dude, you’re making me cry.” He laughed tearfully, bringing his hands to rest on your waist and leaning his forehead on yours. “I know, dude. Everything you’re telling me--I know. I know you’re scared. I’ve never seen you scared of anything, even though you really should be, but this scares you. But I love you, yeah?” 

You nodded, biting your lip against the tears.

“Trust that. Please, even if you trust nothing else, trust that I love you. Because it’s where I put my faith. Kie tried to take me to church once, but man I don’t think I have ever had anything nearly as religious as how I feel about you, Y/N. It’s constant. It-it centers me. It grounds me. So if we’re going to do this, you have to promise me something.”

“Two promises in one day? You’re getting greedy there, Maybank.”

“It’ll be worth it,” he assured you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Then it’s done.”

“You have to promise me that if you get scared, you’re going to talk. You’re not going to run, you’re going to talk to me and we’re going to figure it out together, yeah?”

“Done. Can I kiss you now?” 

“Fuck, yes. 

And then you heard the screams.

Masterlist

Tag List (If there is a strike through your user it’s bc I couldn’t tag you bc tumblr is wack sometimes…)

@hurricane-abigail @omigodyall​ @timotaychalabae​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​@caswinchester2000​ @meghanisdeadinside​ @harrysbbby​ @official-maddibrown @xdelicates@maybebanks@yourwonderbelle @treestarrrrrrrr @loco-latte@sspidermanss@theradvibes @eviction-notice-no666@screamingnewsies @the-fandom-life-forever @dolanfivsosxox@vibin-n-thrivin @em-aesthe  @the-real-jort @riverdaleserpent04@free-pool-trash @mileven-reddie @drewswannabegirl@queen1054 @eternalharry@alwayshopelesss @superqalifragilistik@smileyxdolans@fangirling-all-day @dianaillusion@catonthesideoftheroad @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise​ @thelovelydreamer17 @http-cherries​ @pit-zuh​ @kisssmefree​ @starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies​ @outerbankstings​ @oliviadrake1​ @pancakefancake​ @haharudy​ @truthdaze​

I’m also kind of new to tagging and rlly bad at it so if something is wrong, I’m sorry and pls let me know and I’ll try my best to fix it!

I also lost my updated tag list i’m so dumb so let me know if I told you i would tag you and i didn’t oop

Stay safe and stay healthy!

#im back from the dead i'm so sorry ive been gone i promise my reasons are valid and will come soon #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #jj #jj maybank x you #jj x you #obx #jj x reader #john b x twin!sister!reader #john b x sister! reader #john b x reader #john b #john b routledge #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x female reader #obx rewrite #obx series #jj maybank imagines #jj imagines #jj x reader imagine #jj x reader imagines #outer banks imagine #outer banks imagines #obx imagines #jj maybank fanfiction #jj fanfiction

[platypanthewriter]

Birdwatching for Dummies 1/3

Reality didn’t work as Billy knew it, in Hawkins.  

It wasn’t just that the rich kid whose ass he beat didn’t tell his parents, or that he didn't even seem pissed.  Maybe, Billy thought, the head trauma damaged his memory—when Billy cornered him against his locker, he looked blank, then sloooowly nodded, slapping his fist in his hand like he’d come up with the answer to a difficult Jeopardy question.  The bell rang then, and he pushed Billy away and walked off, waving over his shoulder.

That wasn’t the only weird thing.  There were mass funerals a couple months after they arrived—students, and researchers from the lab, and cops.  Then the lady at Radio Shack burst in tears as she rang up Billy’s batteries, telling him her boss was eaten.  

She then stared into his eyes, laughing too loudly, and tried to cover with some dumbshit story about how he’d ‘—overeaten, actually,’ leaving Billy adding the two incidents together, and wondering whether his dad had picked the one town in Indiana run by cannibals.

 He didn’t spend all his time wondering about Hawkins, obviously—if he was in a horror movie, he’d figure it out eventually—but occasionally something bizarre would happen, and he’d think Hawkins, you fucking ass-end of nowhere bullshit backwater shithole.  One night Max got up from the table in the middle of dinner, and he knew—obviously—she wouldn’t get the shit for it that he would, but then she grabbed a huge pair of binoculars that’d been around her neck, hidden by the table, and stared out at the woods.  

Neil just stared after her, his fork and knife in mid-air.  Susan cleared her throat, hunching her shoulders, and asked, “M-Max, what are you—?”

“Heard there might be a Fulvous Whistling-Duck in the area,” Max said flatly, focusing her binoculars.  They thumped lightly against the window.  “...or a Western Wood-Pewee.”

Billy wondered whether she was possessed.  Or a cannibal.

“I am a birdwatcher, now,” she said, which was honestly weirder, and Billy stared at her along with Susan and his dad.  “...I think it could be a Fulvous Whistling-Duck,” she muttered, in the serious tones she usually used to try and keep her mom from interfering between Billy and his dad.  He’d never heard her sound that vehement about skateboards, let alone birdwatching.

Billy bit his lips, regarding his meatloaf, but waited to see what his dad would do.  Cold meatloaf sounded even worse, he thought, with a stab of annoyance at Max for acting like a freak when it was a pretty okay night otherwise.  Neil leaned back in his chair, and everyone tensed at the creak.

“It’s for school,” Max huffed, craning around, and Susan relaxed a little, with a glance at Neil.  

She smiled nervously at her plate.  “For—for school,” she said, giving a high laugh, like she was a bird herself.  “Birds—birds wouldn’t be considerate of, of dinner, would they?”  She glanced over at Max, then at Neil again, biting her lips together as she shrank a little into her chair.  

“It’s good to see her working diligently,” Neil said, their judge and executioner, and Susan laughed, a breathy sound of relief.  

Max lowered the binoculars and walked back over—then stalked right by the table again on the way into the hall.  Neil’s tableware froze again, nearly lowered to his meatloaf, and Billy swore internally, listening to his step-sister make a goddamn phone call during the dinner her mother had cooked.  

“There’s a Fulvous Whistling-Duck out there,” she told the person on the other end.  “No, a Fulvous Whistling-Duck.  No, a—no—no, a Fulvous Whistling-Duck.  Just come over!  Come now.  No, the—the big one, moron—didn’t you write them down?!  The big one, there is a big one in our woods, and—and smaller—ones—just bring your biggest—goshdarn— ” she hissed,dropping to a whisper, “—binoculars and get your butt over here.”  The phone clunked into its cradle.

“...did you invite your friends over?” Neil asked, when she came back in the room to stare through her binoculars again.  His voice was levelly amused, but Susan flinched, dropping her fork with a clatter, and apologizing through her fingers.  

“Nope,” Max said dryly.  “They’ll stay outside.  We probably won’t even hear ‘em.  They just...want to see the duck.”

“It’s almost dark,” Billy said, finally, since nobody else was going to.  Max ignored him.

“Do—do you need to take a picture?” Susan asked softly, like Neil wouldn’t hear.  “Do you want my camera?”

“No,” Max said, and Susan flinched.  “No, sorry, Mom.  I’m just—just making sure I remember enough detail to mark it on my...bird report.”  She chewed her lip, shifting her feet, and dashed to the window again.  

Billy couldn’t see anything out there.

 Billy cleared the table while Susan did the dishes—the perfect ratio, he’d found, of showing her respect without actually taking over a chore he couldn’t even manage to do properly—while Max hovered at the window, squinting into the darkness.  She never did eat, which was probably healthier, on the whole, than eating the grayish meatloaf.

He went to his room after and cranked the music up as high as he dared, grabbing a Playboy.  When he went to lower the blinds, he saw Steve Harrington’s car in the street, with binoculars pressed against the window.  

Where it was parked between the streetlights, it was hard to be sure, but Billy knew his neighbor’s cheapass cars, and Harrington’s BMW stood out.  Billy waited for Max to head to her room, and grabbed her, dragging her inside to point.  “What the hell is Harrington doing here?!” he hissed, and she yelped so loud they both heard the soft thump of Neil’s recliner in the front room, and the squeak of floorboards as he neared.  

Max shoved Billy back as he yanked his hands away, and then Billy’s dad was in the doorway.  “You putting your hands on her?” he asked, and Max and Billy both said no, shaking their heads.  “...go help your mother,” Neil told her, gently, and she sidled past him, then ran.  

“I was just asking if that was her friend outside,” Billy said as Neil turned to survey his room, his gaze taking in the overflowing ashtrays, empty beer cans, and dirty clothes.  

“When we married,” Neil said, “—I told Susan I’d keep her little girl safe.  Safe and happy.  Do you think she’s happy...Billy?”

Billy backed away until his shoulder hit the sash of the window, and jerked his thumb at it, trying to hold Neil’s gaze, and failing.  “I was asking a goddamn question, that’s all—” 

“Sounded a bit scared, to me,” Neil told him, conversationally.  “You scared a little girl.  Whatever you’re seeing out the window, that justify that kind of behavior?  Billy?”

“No, sir,” Billy said, without meaning to, then, “—she was startled maybe, I didn’t—”

“Why don’t you take a good look,” his dad said next to his ear, pushing him against the window so hard it rattled the glass, “—and tell me what’s out there that’s so...damned... important.”  His hand came up Billy’s spine, cupping the back of his head and shoving him harder, so his cheekbone and jaw ached from pressure against the window.  His breath obscured the glass.  

The stuff Billy wanted to say—that it was stupid, Max pretending she was birdwatching, something else was obviously going on— sat in the back of his throat on a tide of acid, and he swallowed it back, reminding himself that none of that was what his dad wanted to hear.  The window creaked with the force of pressure, and Billy’s forehead ached.

His dad’s fingers dug painfully into the thin skin and bones at the base of his skull, and Billy started to cry with impotent fury like a fucking pussy, even as he remembered, his stomach sinking, that Harrington was out there, and he had binoculars too.  Neil’s nails ground against his skull, it felt like, and the glass creaked like he was about to go through it face first.  With Billy’s eyes full of tears, he couldn’t see whether the binoculars in Harrington’s car were focused on him.  

“Is there anything out there that makes this behavior acceptable?” his dad asked, and Billy couldn’t move to shake his head, so he cleared his throat, sniffling.  

“No, sir,” he whispered. 

“I hope we won’t have to have this talk again,” Neil said, patting his shoulder and walking out, and Billy realized he was just standing there furious and shaking, tears dripping down his face.  He yanked the blinds down.  The bed thumped into the wall as he dropped down against it to sit on the floor, trying to steady himself with deep breaths, and not scream.  

 Steve was still outside the next morning, one leg out the window, folded over his side mirror, the other wedged around the steering wheel.  Billy did his reps at him, flexing his biceps to remind Harrington that even if he had seen Billy bawling like a tiny fucking child, Billy could still feed him his own fists.  

Before Max left, she made her mother promise not to leave the house, not even to hang laundry, with some bogus explanation that the weather had predicted sudden showers of baseball-sized hail.  Billy covered his snort.

Max ran out with smuggled pop-tarts—you could tell Susan smelled ‘em, but she wasn’t gonna say anything—and Harrington disentangled himself, rubbed his face, and gave her a ride to school.

It had a Very Hawkins Episode feel to it, but Billy wasn’t gonna ask again.  

 That afternoon, Harrington was parked outside his house again, but before Billy could stalk out and ask what the everloving fuck, Max brought him inside.  He stood smiling around like a moron, and complimented Susan’s ruffled pillow shams.  Billy’d never thought much about them, but it touched off a whole explanation of how difficult they’d been to sew.

“I’m so glad to meet your friend!” she told Billy, who bristled, and Harrington shook her hand, introducing himself like he was used to infiltrating random people’s houses.

“I’m Steve Harrington,” he said, beaming at her.  “I’m in Billy’s, uh, third period class.”

“He’s here for a project,” said Max, and Billy frowned warily between them.

“Here for that, um,” Steve said, like a genius, and Max glared at him meaningfully.  Steve forged ahead.  “The uh, the...geology...report.  For class.”

“...the geometry test?” Billy offered, unable to take Harrington’s idiocy, whatever else was going on, and Harrington’s eyes widened in alarm as he thought.  

“Oh,” he said, frowning at his bag.  “Yeeessss?”

“You two can study out here until dinner,” said Max heavily, staring at Billy like she was trying to use the Force on him.  

“Will we be in the way, ma’am?” Steve asked Susan, and she smiled back at him, her shoulders relaxing.  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh, no, a kid’s job is school,” she told him, smiling.  “Feel free to use the table—” 

At the thought of actually helping Steve Harrington learn Geometry, with witnesses, Billy chose the less infuriating option.  “We’ll be in my room,” he said, stomping off, and Max and Steve both said “But—” as Susan said “I’ll bring you some cookies!”

“...she brings you cookies,” said Steve, following him, and Billy held the door open, rolling his eyes.  “I want some cookies…” he trailed off, his eyes fixed on the padlock on the outside of Billy’s door, and Billy shoved him inside.

“Last family kept a big dog in here,” he lied, and Steve nodded very slowly, like even he wasn’t that stupid.  Billy yanked the door shut and hissed “Why are you here,” as Steve walked over and sat on his bed, bouncing like he was testing it out.  

“Uh, birds,” Steve said, squinting like he was trying to remember, and then getting up to pick through Billy’s records.  

“Birds,” Billy ground out, his teeth clenched.  “You’re gonna watch for birds.  From my bedroom.”

“Uh,” Steve said, frowning back at him, like Billy was the one acting weird.  “Can’t see ‘em from here, that’s why we were setting up in the front room.  This, uh,” he smirked, raising his eyebrows, “—this wasn’t me trying to get in your bedroom, man.”

“Why are you here,” Billy growled, stalking up to him, and Harrington just sat down on the floor, flipping through records like Billy wasn’t standing there, fists clenched.

“Closer to the bathroom,” Steve said, shrugging.  He didn’t even look up.  “Told your sister I had to piss in a bottle last night, so—” he trailed off, his eyes flicking towards the window, and Billy knew he’d seen.  

“Answer the fucking question, Harrington,” he said, bristling, and Steve snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, you’re gonna kick my ass right here, huh?  In your house, while your mom brings us cookies.”

Billy flinched at the thought of what his dad would do if he and Steve Harrington got in a fistfight, and stumbled back.  “She’s not my mom,” he hissed, like he was five, and Harrington raised his eyebrows.

“Cookies!” Susan called, knocking on the door, and he heard her rattling around outside.  Once she got the door open, she smiled like she was fucking proud of Billy, bringing home a clean-cut kid like Steve Harrington to do homework.  Steve brightened at the cookies—and milk, Billy registered, a tray with cookies and milk— with a winning smile, and Susan beamed at them.  She surveyed them and waved, pulling the door shut, and Billy flipped the door off, mystified and annoyed.

Billy felt exhausted, suddenly, and he walked over to sit on his bed.  “...the fuck do you want,” he bit out at Harrington, just as Max clomped in.

“Mom’s phoning Neil to see if she can invite you to dinner,” she told Steve, who looked delighted.  

Billy wondered whether it was meaner to quash his hopes now with the reality of leftover meatloaf, or whether he should wait and watch Steve’s soul be crushed on a voyage of discovery as he bit into thrice-heated rubber tireloaf that night at the table.  He kept his mouth shut, raising his eyebrows at Max, who shrugged, grimacing.  

“Neil keeps trying to make her cook like his mom,” she whispered, pulling the door shut as she stepped in, and Billy resisted the urge to chase all these invaders out with a broom, like the fucking vermin they were.  

“Get the hell out of my room!” he hissed at her, and she ignored him, taking a cookie.  

Steve nodded slowly, picking up empty beer cans.  “Never met a home-cooked meal I didn’t like,” he said cheerfully, and hucked a can at the trash.  “He shoots, he scores!” he stage-whispered, and tossed two more, while Max got through the whole top layer of cookies like goddamn wood chipper.  

“I don’t know what the fuck is happening,” Billy hissed, “—but why is it in my room?!”

“We’re, um, birds—” Steve said, frowning like he was trying to remember his stupid lie, and Max groaned.

“You wouldn’t believe us if we told you,” she sighed.

“Yeah, gee, I don’t think you’re really birds at all, goddamn,” Billy snarled.  “I’m going for a smoke, don’t break my shit, Harrington—”

“No, no, no!” they both shouted, scrambling to stand between him and the door, and they looked worried, which was weird as hell.  Billy began to seriously entertain the cannibals theory, and he wondered whether the cannibalism was scheduled.  Whether there were cannibals wandering the woods, and Max had... spotted them somehow.  

What made cannibals distinctive, Billy wondered, when they wandered around in the woods?  Were there cannibal team colors?  He raised his eyebrows as he stuck a cigarette in his mouth.  

“I’ll just go with him,” Steve said, waving Max off.  “It’s fine, I don’t have my bat, anyway, I’ll grab it from my car.”

“Your fucking what,” Billy asked, as Harrington pushed him outside, and Max chewed her lip some more.  Billy waited until they were on the front steps, lit up, and shoved Harrington’s shoulder so hard he staggered.  “You fucking told her.  Didn’t you.”

“Told her what,” Harrington snorted, looking around, until Billy grabbed his shirt and yanked him closer.  

“Told her I was crying like a fucking pussy,” he hissed, blowing smoke in Harrington’s wide brown eyes.  “Bawling my fucking eyes out, Harrington, what in the goddamn fuck do you think I mean—” 

“I didn’t—” Harrington waved the smoke away, rolling his eyes, and grabbed Billy’s arm, hauling him to the curb.  “I didn’t say anything, come on—” he stopped, looking both ways like a little kid, and drug Billy across the street to his car.

“That’s why she’s worried,” Billy told him, half-running behind, “—isn’t it?  She thinks I’m gonna break.”

“...are you?” Harrington asked, blinking at him, but it was the first time he’d stopped and listened, his eyes intent, and Billy just stared back, then took a long drag off his cigarette.  Steve cocked his head.  “What happens then, you just—just go on and beat the shit out’ve somebody?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Billy muttered, watching Harrington pull a bat full of nails out of the back seat.  He wasn’t sure what it would look like, breaking, but it felt like it would be breaking apart, sometimes, like he was fracturing like the old stones in the graveyard, crumbling where the Indiana winter had gotten in their cracks.  He’d kicked one over, once, drunk, and it’d fallen into a pile of gravel.  

Harrington stared past him at the treeline, spinning the bat around his hand, and Billy told his imagination to shut the hell up.  He blew out a cloud of smoke.  “There’s something out there, isn’t there.  Indiana get...bears?”

“Ohhh,” Harrington grinned at him, and grabbed his wrist, hauling him back towards the house.  “That’s closer than I thought you’d get,” he whispered, barely giving Billy time to toss his cigarette before he yanked them both inside.  He pulled Billy against him, so Billy wouldn’t bang his shoulder into the door.

It felt weirdly like being friends.

When they made it into Billy’s bedroom again—Steve hauled him the whole way, trying to hold the fucking nailbat out of sight, but also steering Billy around the hall table, and the doorjamb of his room—Steve let go, and Billy stomped over to stare out the window, waiting for his face to cool off.  It didn’t make sense to go comparing his dad to the King of Hawkins High, even if his dad would’ve maybe yanked him so his thigh banged into the table, and his shoulder hit the door.  

Steve had pushed him around, but like—like a teammate, Billy thought, a little rough, a little protective.  His cheeks heated worse, and he stared out at the Harringtonmobile, remembering Steve’s words about attacking somebody.  Billy bit his lips together, remembering the night he’d chased Max through the entire fucking town and arrived to see perfect Steve Harrington protecting Billy’s sister from him like Billy was a rabid fucking beast.

He snorted softly.

“Anything out there?” Steve asked, and Billy shook his head.  “...there really a test in Geometry?”

“...yep,” Billy said, wishing he still had his cigarette, for something to do with his hands.  “And I’m not helping you study.”

“Fine, asshole,” Steve sighed, and Billy heard his bed springs squeak, and the noise of a zipper.  He spun around to see Steve opening his backpack, and not his pants, and wondered what the hell had been in his cigarette that he’d even think—

“Ooo, Playboy,” Steve said, realizing part of the mess he was sitting on was a magazine.  He flipped it open, and Billy spun back around and leaned his face against the cool glass of the window, wanting to die.  

“Don’t jack off on my bed, Harrington,” he hissed—he didn’t mean to, but his voice came out hoarse.

“Why not, nothing else to do,” Steve said, on his bed.  “Wanna teach me geometry after all?  Nice centerfold.”  The bed creaked again, and Steve grunted with a little moan in the back of his throat.   

Billy spun around, snarling, and Steve burst out laughing, dropping the magazine on his face and rolling onto his side, shaking with giggles.  

“I’m not gonna whip my dick out on your bed, dumbass,” Steve cackled, and Billy growled deep in his throat.  Steve was pink-cheeked with laughter, clutching his ribs.  Every time he opened his eyes to look at Billy, he laughed harder, and Billy put his fists down, swiveling in place to glare out the window again.  His face was as hot as a southern California sidewalk.

“Oooo, mmm,” Steve called.  “Oh baby, look at those jugs,” and Billy spun back around and stomped over to murder him, but when he got there he didn’t know what he wanted to do, and Steve scrambled up and away.  He caught Billy’s arm and yanked him down face-first on the bed.  Billy started to slide off, and Steve shoved him all the way on the bed as Billy tried to figure out what was happening, and then Steve Harrington was sitting on his butt, Billy’s wrists securely in his hands.  “Yeah, we’re not doing the concussion thing again,” Steve said, a little darkly, and Billy tried to keep his breathing even.

“Get off me,” he panted.

“Nope,” Steve said cheerfully, and picked up the magazine, lying it across Billy’s back so he could read it and still hold Billy’s wrists.  Billy squirmed, rocking them around, and Steve snickered.  “You don’t think I’m really gonna let you up, do you?”

“Get off,” Billy hissed, trying to tip Steve over with his hips, and Steve shifted forward to sit on his waist, leaving Billy with a reason to have trouble breathing, at least.  His dick was a bar of hot iron against the bed, and Harrington’s ass cheeks were even softer through his shirt than through his jean pockets.  Steve’s legs were folded against his sides, his muscular thighs pressed against Billy’s ribs, and Billy’s heart thudded in his chest.  

Steve’s fingers lifted from his wrists, flipped a page, and then held him again, warm and a little sweaty.  It felt just like when Billy’d yanked him back up on the basketball court, but that had been fast, and Billy’d let go, and Steve’s hands were just holding him.  He kicked the mattress, groaning into his comforter.  

“I didn’t tell her,” Steve said, suddenly, as he sat on Billy, holding him still while he looked at topless women.  “Max.  I didn’t say anything.”

Billy took a shuddery breath, his face heating more at the thought that Harrington could feel him shake.  He tried to hold his breath, shutting his eyes until his lungs stopped jerking, but Steve leaned forward and brushed the curls off his neck, and Billy let his breath out with a startled wooof.

His scalp tingled as his hair stirred, and he hunched his shoulders, biting his lips together.  He clenched his eyes tighter as Steve combed his fingers up through his hair, tangled from the long day, but Steve stopped every time he hit a snag.  His fingers were firm, but gentle.  “...jesus,” Steve said, slowly.  “He bruised you up pretty good.  Actually made you bleed,” he said, brushing his fingertips over where Neil’s nails had dug in at the base of Billy’s skull.  

“...shut up,” Billy told him, and he could hear the tears in his own voice, thick and soggy-sounding.  His eyes were stinging, and he was almost grateful he had his face in a blanket, because it soaked up the evidence.  He wasn’t even less turned on, he thought with disgust, apparently just as goddamn horny for Steve’s gentle hands as he was for his muscled thighs.  He tried squirming again, just to make it clear he wasn’t into it, and then went perfectly still with a gasp as he nearly came in his pants.

“Sorry,” Steve said, smoothing Billy’s hair back over the marks Neil had left, and Billy nearly laughed aloud, his whole body shaking with tension.  His arm was starting to cramp, and he half desperately needed Steve to leave the room, and half wanted him to stay exactly where he was, forever.  “Oh,” Steve said then, leaning forward again, his muscled thighs pressing into Billy’s sides.

He tugged at the collar of Billy’s shirt, where it was crooked from Steve slamming him face first onto the bed.  “The fuck are you doing,” Billy wheezed, as Steve’s hand smoothed down his spine.  

“Don’t freak out,” Steve said, letting go of Billy’s wrists, and Billy just laid there, without being held down, letting Steve Harrington sit on him and straighten his shirt collar.  

“Not fucking freaking out,” Billy yelled, his voice muffled, and then he full-body shivered as Harrington laid his hands over Billy’s again, holding them to his back.  “Get the hell off, my dad’s gonna—he’s gonna think you’re queer, asshole—”

Steve was quiet for a long moment, and then Billy realized he was shaking with laughter.  “The—this isn’t—” Steve snickered, wheezing, “—he does know this isn’t how sex works, right?!”

“...fuck you,” Billy muttered, catching his sniggers.  They both laughed for way too long, and then Steve rolled off to lie next to him, and Billy scrambled up to sit on the edge of the bed, facing away, and rubbing his arms.  

“That didn’t actually...hurt, right,” Harrington said behind him, and Billy jerked at the sound of his voice.

“No, it didn’t fucking hurt, Harrington.  I’m not delicate.”  He didn’t turn around, though, because his whole body was radiating heat from the soft brush of Steve’s hand over his hands before letting him go.  He was fairly sure if he turned around and saw Steve Harrington in his bed, rumpled from wrestling, his cock would fucking burst through his pants like a Looney Toons characterthrough a wall.  He tried to think of unsexy things, like Looney Toons characters, and he wrinkled his nose at the idea of kissing Sylvester the cat.

Then the springs creaked as Harrington sat up, and Billy remembered why he’d let him go—and why he didn’t seem mad about getting beat up, probably—and wanted to punch him again.  “...fuck you, Harrington,” he said, going for threatening, but coming off tired.

“What’d I do now?” he asked, and Billy wondered, grimacing, what he’d looked like, crying in the fucking window.  

“Shut up,” Billy sighed, then startled as Harrington’s fingers slid up the side of his neck.  

“Your ears are all red,” Steve said, sounding entertained, and that was just— great.

“Fuck you,” Billy spat, smacking his hand away, and turning to glare at the most popular boy in school, currently in his bed.  “Yeah, you know all about me now, huh?!  You know all my shitty secrets, go ahead, tell the fucking world.”

Steve blinked his big, soft brown eyes, looking thoughtful.  For a wild second, Billy wondered whether he even remembered seeing Billy and his dad the night before—whether the King of Hawkins High was even capable of remembering Billy Fucking Hargrove, if even a fistfight hadn’t made an impression.  Steve cocked his head.  “...I’m not gonna...spread rumors about you, jesus.”

“Yeah, you fucking won’t,” Billy hissed.  The idea of King Steve not just...feeding Billy his own teeth at the idea of Billy’s eyes on him was...unlikely.  “Why the hell are you pretending this is all fine,” Billy hissed, glaring, gathering himself to beat Harrington into oblivion.    

“You gonna do something that isn’t?” Steve asked, and Billy took a shaky breath.

“...you already saw what I am,” he laughed, and Steve narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t give a shit what your dad thinks,” he hissed.  “You try to hit me again—”

Billy swung his arm out, just to see, and Steve slammed him into the bed again.  Billy stared up, panting for no reason.  His face was hot.  

“You can want me to hold you down all day, I don’t give a shit,” he said, and Billy choked, coughing.  “I know what I look like,” Steve said, leaning in, and Billy coughed harder, his eyes watering.  “You sure you don’t want me to jack off on your bed?” he whispered in Billy’s ear, and Billy clenched his fingers in his mattress as he recovered his breath, wiping his eyes.  

“...the fuck would you wanna give me a show,” Billy whispered, staring at him, and Steve’s grin widened.  

“I don’t mind an audience,” he said, settling back against Billy’s pillow, and Billy realized it would smell like him that night.  

His cock hadn’t gotten very distracted anyway, hadn’t even made it down to half-mast, and he nearly shut his eyes as it went granite-hard again.  He felt the burn of friction from his cheap cotton underwear.  “What,” he muttered.  “What the fuck.”

“Tell me you got some lotion in this shithole,” Steve said, folding his arm behind his head, and lifting his t-shirt to show a trail of hair leading into his pants, and Billy forgot there was anyone in the world besides him, and the boy on his bed, grinning over.

He turned like a fucking robot and walked over to where all his hair shit was.  He grabbed the Avon bottle Susan had bought—she’d been trying to get the Avon lady to leave her alone—and returned like he was on remote control, to slap the bottle into Steve Harrington’s outstretched hand.  

Steve hummed, opening the magazine back up—they’d scrunched it, rolling around and laughing—and folding his knees up to lean it against.  Billy remembered his door didn’t lock, so he backed away until his shoulder blades thumped into his door.  He slid down to sit against it as Steve fucking Harrington punched his blanket into a pile with his pillow, reclined back against them, and unzipped his jeans.  He shimmied them down around his hips, shoving his skivvies down over his bony hips, and his cock laid half-hard against his stomach.  

Billy swallowed thickly.

“This why you were such a fucking freak in the shower?” Steve asked, and Billy threw an empty beer can at him instinctively, like swatting a fly.  Steve laughed as it bounced off his knee, his abs flexing in the light of the window.  Billy’d seen him in the showers—he’d barely been able to tear his eyes away, but Harrington knowing he was looking and liking it was a whole different feeling.  It had Billy breathless.  Steve was going pink too, across his cheeks and ears.

He braced the magazine open against his knees, squirted some lotion into his hand, and slowly rucked his shirt up under his armpits.  Billy clenched his fingers in his thighs as Steve stopped, and checked his watch.  

“...man up or put your cock away, Harrington,” Billy hissed.

“When’s your dad get home?” Steve asked, and Billy laughed.

“Let a man pick the way he dies, Harrington, jesus.”

Steve looked over, his head cocked.  “We should still have a while, though, right?  Plenty of time.”

“Depends how good you make it,” Billy told him, his cheeks burning ever harder as he pushed, and pushed, and waited for the boy in his bed to back down, and admit he’d been bluffing.  Because Billy was apparently hallucinating, or possibly dead, Steve’s dick hardened visibly at the challenge.  Steve shrugged, his dick bobbing.  “You want my cock to be your last sight on earth, I can make that happen,” he said, flashing a grin Billy’s way.  

Billy bit his lips together, and silently unzipped his fly, letting his eyes flutter shut at the relief of pressure—and then he jerked his head up to watch Steve Harrington.  His head thumped the door, and Steve glanced over, smirking.  

“Shut up and yank your dick,” Billy growled, and Steve laughed, folding his arm behind his head to look at the magazine.  He ran his fingertips over his chest, and down his belly alongside his cock, and Billy threw another empty can at him.  “Just do it, what the fuck, you’re such a slut, Harrington!”

Steve burst out laughing with a full belly laugh, his head tipping back so his hair fanned against the sheets.  Hopefully Susan and Max thought that was just them fighting, Billy thought, listening.  He bit his lips together, hiding whatever sound he’d been about to make, and Steve ran a finger from the base to the tip of his cock.  “Can’t believe you just yelled that,” he snickered, grinning.  

“Can’t believe you’re doing some kind of— striptease in my bedroom,” Billy hissed back, his cheeks flaming as he watched Steve Harrington rub his thumb over the tip of his dick, then lift away a string of fluid.  

“Sometimes you gotta remind people what they’re missing if they, y’know, keep studying, and leave you lonely,” Steve said, staring at the magazine as he finally— finally— slicked up his dick, closing his eyes with a soft groan.  The lotion gleamed on his skin.

Billy had a vision of Nancy Wheeler studying until she looked over and saw this, and the jealousy felt like acid inside him.  He tried to imagine ignoring him, and laughed.  “You been lonely a lot, King Steve?”

“Ha,” Steve said, stroking his cock, and smiling crookedly at the naked woman in the centerfold. 

“Jesus,” Billy whispered, imagining his hand, his mouth on Steve’s dick, stretching around the shiny, blood-darkened skin, and Steve flashed him a grin.  He was flushed all over, sweating as his back arched, and Billy pressed the heel of his hand against his cock, trying not to squirm.

“Faster,” Billy muttered, as Harrington put on a fucking show, smirking the whole time.  At Billy’s voice, his fingers slowed further.  He moaned theatrically, trying not to laugh, as he squirmed in Billy’s bed, trailing his fingers over his balls.   “Christ, Harrington,” Billy said, punched out of him as he watched the muscles working in Steve’s ass and thighs.  

“Patience—patience is a virtue,” Steve panted, sliding both hands over his sweaty abs and then grasping his dick as he grunted, letting his head loll back, his eyes fluttering shut.  Billy didn’t even breathe, his whole being focused on Steve Harrington’s hand on his dick as he came over his thumb and belly, stilling for a long second, then relaxed against Billy’s bed with a soft sigh.  

“Holy shit,” Billy mumbled, his heart pounding probably harder than Harrington’s had been.  He was soaked with sweat.  He pressed his cock again, wishing he’d left his pants zipped—he’d done laundry, at least, so his underwear was stretched around his cock and nearly transparent, like a fucking wet t-shirt contest for cocks, but at least Steve didn’t have to look at his dick.  

He was still sprawled, the breeze from the window stirring his sweaty hair, and Billy tried not to look as he fumbled around and found the paper towels Susan had brought in with the cookies.  

“...gimme some of that milk,” Steve panted, and Billy rolled his eyes and brought it over, not realizing what he would look like, post-orgasmic Steve Harrington, his head tipped back as his throat worked, and a white trickle sliding down his jaw.  Billy dropped the paper towels on him, and then went still again as Harrington finished the milk and rolled the cool glass across his flushed chest.  “I’m not gonna scream, jesus,” Steve said, snorting a laugh.  “I’ve seen cocks before.  You never watch porn with anybody?”

Billy snorted so hard he nearly choked.  “Seems kinda different, Harrington,” he pointed out.  He couldn’t help imagining what Steve wanted, thin shoulders and soft tits, Nancy Wheeler’s, specifically, he was pretty sure, but he was so hard it felt like blood was pounding in his brain.  He sat heavily on the bed and reached in his pants, eyes fixed firmly on the floor, and Steve unfolded his long legs so one was behind him, one across his lap.  

Billy turned to glare at Harrington, and he was propped up on his elbow, offering the lotion, still covered in his own jizz.  He waggled the bottle, raising his eyebrows, and Billy took it, just holding it like a dumbass, because all he could think about was tipping sideways between Steve’s sprawled legs and sucking hickies into his thigh.  

Billy wanted to know what his skin tasted like.  

“Did you short out?” Steve asked, yawning and rubbing his face.  He squirmed, running his hands through his hair, and his whole torso flexed.

Billy squirted lotion in his hand, and they both snickered because it sounded like a series of wet farts.  Steve sighed with satisfaction, sprawling back, and Billy slid his hand in his briefs and yanked at his cock, groaning with relief.  He was in a hurry, unlike Steve, and it only took a few tugs before he was coming all over his jeans and skivvies.  He glanced over to see Harrington watching, his eyes dark and curious.

“...what,” he hissed, and got a crumpled-up paper towel to the head.  

“Clean yourself up before Max walks in,” Steve told him with a wide smirk, and Billy half wanted to punch it off his face, and half wanted to kiss it.  The bed creaked as Steve lifted his hips, yanking his pants back up.  “What the hell did you think I’d told her?  Your dad’s an asshole?  I mean, she knows, right?”

Billy stilled, his heart juddering like he’d worked it too hard watching Harrington.  “What,” he said, buying time.  “...how much did you see,” he gritted out.

“I’m not gonna go tell anybody, jesus,” Steve rolled his eyes.  “I mean, what the fuck are you gonna say then—tell everybody I did my best pinup thing on your bed?  What happens in your bedroom stays in your bedroom, christ.”  His ears were getting redder, even as the rest of him cooled off.

“...what,” Billy asked hoarsely, clearing his throat, “—you don’t do that with all the guys?”

“Ha…” Steve said.  “...not like that.”  He sighed, cocking his head to look at Billy’s back.  “I thought he was gonna put your head through the window,” he said, swinging his leg up and over Billy’s head so he could swing them both over the edge of the bed and sit up.  “I was looking up and down the street for a phone booth to call an ambulance.  I had a rock to throw at the house, distract him, but he left.”

“...he wanted to know what I was looking at.  Why I—I yanked Max in here,” Billy said through gritted teeth, remembering how her skinny arm felt in his hand.  He didn’t think he’d yanked hard.  

Steve cocked his head, watching him.  “...and you didn’t just...tell him?”

“The hell was I gonna say?!” Billy snarled at him.  “There’s a car outside?  I think I recognize it?”

“...sorry for making your life hell,” Steve said, and Billy laughed.

“You didn’t.  He’s gotta keep me in check, right, otherwise I attack people.”

“More...hell.  Hell...er,” Steve pulled his shirt down finally, considering.  “Helly?  Hellier?  I was about to huck a rock at the side of the house and just run when he came out to see what made the noise,” he said, steepling his fingers like it was a cunning plan, and Billy glanced sideways at him.

“...why?” he asked, snorting a dismissive laugh.  “Max said I gave you a goddamn concussion.  The fuck do you care if he makes me look out the window.”  Harrington opened his mouth, and his hand twitched towards Billy, but he didn’t say anything.  “...what the hell are you here for, anyway—” Billy started, remembering why he’d been watching at all.

“No, I think—” Harrington said, at the same time.  “I mean, it still matters, right, you’ve got bruises—”

“He doesn’t treat Max like that,” Billy shot back, feeling a little shaky, like he did whenever he had to look at the truth of himself.  “I’m a bad seed, right—”

Steve looked confused, but then he shook his head.  “M-maybe you are?!  But in school when some of the seeds came out, y’know, weird and crooked, we didn’t hit ‘em, that doesn’t help—”

Billy’s eyes went a little blurry with tears—of laughter, because of how stupid that argument was.  “Did you fucking...grow little pea plants in plastic cups or something?”

“Yeah,” Steve told him, decisively, like he’d won.  Like his dumb pea plant experiment made him the expert on what Billy Hargrove deserved.  He glared over as Billy started snickering.  “Hey,” he said, narrowing his eyes, and Billy laughed harder, kind of unable to stop.  His eyes teared up again, and his hands shook, and Steve’s frown went wide-eyed and uncertain.  

The garage door opened.

Billy snorted, wiping his eyes, and getting up to yank his jizz-covered jeans and tighty-whiteys off.  He yanked some black silk boxers on—the friction against his dick had been no joke—and realized the only clean jeans were his party pants, years old and strained across his ass and thighs.  He squirmed getting them on.

“...dinner and a show, huh?” Steve asked awkwardly, and Billy whipped around to glare at him suspiciously.  

“...shut up, you don’t give a crap about my ass,” Billy snorted, and Steve folded his arms, quirking his mouth.  His cheeks had gone pink again, and Billy stopped like he’d been turned to stone midmotion.  “...holy shit,” he whispered, but then the door from the garage into the house closed, and he listened for his dad’s voice, or nearing footsteps.  

“He’ll want dinner,” he said, nearly under his breath as he listened to his dad ask Max whether she was still birdwatching.

“...you have to talk nice to plants,” Steve said, like a moron.  “Some of them like music.”

“I’m not a plant,” Billy hissed back, but he couldn’t help a huff of laughter at the idea of him in a little plastic cup, with Steve Harrington playing him Def Leppard and spritzing his head.

Steve grinned at him.  “Dinner time?”

“Yeah,” Billy sighed.  He was setting his shoulders to leave his room when Steve threw his arm around them, and hauled them both out Billy’s door.  He pulled Billy close against his side, so Billy’s shoulder didn’t hit the edge of the doorway, then again when they passed the table in the hall, and Billy tried not to lean into him too much.

Part Two

#Harringrove #Billy Hargrove #steve harrington #Steve Sees Abuse #Steve finds out about Neil Hargrove's A+ parenting #Forced proximity #Enemies to allies to lovers

[spaceskam]

prompt #5: hallmark-esque returning to hometown after years [ao3]

Jenna Cameron had no intention of seeing Liz Ortecho again.

They’d met in a college town in 2010‒Jenna was on leave and Liz was stressed over finals and they were both looking for a distraction. They’d talked for too many hours in a bar that didn’t say anything about their underaged patrons and had stumbled out a little drunk and a little handsy. They hooked up in Liz’s dorm and Jenna stayed the night. They ate breakfast together, talked, laughed, spoke vaguely about staying in touch, hooked up one more time before Jenna had to get ready. She had a plane to catch.

They didn’t stay in touch. There were too many reasons that they couldn’t, too many life things. Jenna was focused on taking care of her sister and hating the men she was surrounded by. When she finally got out of the military, she bounced around for a while to find somewhere that felt right and she ended up landing in a small town called Roswell, New Mexico.

Her coworkers were nice and the townspeople weren’t bad if you ignored most of them. It was fine, for now. She could have fun hooking up with the broad shouldered deputy and she had the time to teach herself how to knit half a sock that was too big for any living human and she finished a book for the first time in nearly a decade. It was fine for now. It was like she was waiting for the reason she felt this was a good stopping point, waiting for something to happen that would make it make sense.

And then she saw Liz Ortecho.

“License and registration?”

“Oh, this is bullshit. It’s the middle of the night and there is no reason for this unless you’re searching for a goddamn murderer that might be running, so, tell me, are you? Do you think I have a murderer in my car, hidden under a blanket in the backseat? Are you going to search? Or do you just see someone who isn’t white as a sheet and think‒”

“Liz?” Jenna asked. Liz froze as she blinked with the light in her eyes, so Jenna turned the flashlight to face the ground.

She didn’t actually expect Liz to remember her. Hell, she hadn’t expected to remember Liz. There was no reason for her to remember a one night stand, regardless of how charming she was. Jenna thought of her more often than she should when she knew she would never see her again. But here she was, somehow in the same small town eight years after they’d met.

“Jenna?” Liz asked, her eyes widening as recognition set in. Something twisted in her gut at the fact that Liz remembered her. Liz was memorable, sure, but Jenna? She’d never felt memorable a day in her life.

And yet…

“What are you doing here?” Jenna asked at the same time Liz said, “Why the hell are you a cop?”

“I’m, I’m visiting my dad. I grew up here,” Liz said. Jenna almost laughed. Of all the places to feel like a temporary stopping place, of course it would be the hometown of a girl she hadn’t been able to forget even after all these years. “Your turn, since when the hell were you planning to become a cop? I thought you hated the whole military environment, why would you go to the next closest thing?”

And all Jenna could think was she remembered something I didn’t like.

“Life, I guess,” Jenna offered in lieu of childish awe, “It was easy. Something I can do for now.”

“For now,” Liz repeated. It wasn’t a question. Just… for now. Not forever. “So, uh, are-are you gonna search my car or whatever?”

“No, no, you go. Go see your dad,” Jenna said. She couldn’t actually remember if she checked her license and registration. It didn’t matter.

“Yeah, okay, uh, was nice seeing you again,” Liz said, giving a small smile and a nod.

“You too.”

Liz looked forward and put her car back in drive, but she barely moved a centimeter before she slammed on her breaks again and looked over to Jenna with that familiar look in her eye. God, it was familiar. How could something she hadn’t seen in eight years feel so familiar?

“My dad owns the Crashdown,” she stated. Jenna’s eyebrows raised a little.

“That’s where I get breakfast,” she admitted. Liz smiled.

“Then maybe I’ll see you around.”

“You will.”

Liz drove off for real that time and it left Jenna frozen in her place. And it seems, just like it was for the last eight years, her thoughts were consumed with Liz Ortecho. Just, now, it was something within reach.

Because Liz Ortecho had come home and Jenna was, for some reason, already waiting.

-

Jenna Cameron had never been known for her restraint.

Quite the opposite, actually. She was impulsive and, while she never quite considered herself to have vices, she also never deprived herself. She was never irresponsible or stupid, but she understood humans had only so much time before they died and it was over. Why not chase after things that were good and do risky things that were always worth it?

It was how she ended up at nearly midnight, walking past the Crashdown.

There was no reason for Liz to still be awake and there was no reason for Jenna to be strolling past, but Liz was and Jenna was. She looked through the window and Liz was just dancing, enjoying herself, because what else did pretty girls do if not dance like no one was watching? Wasn’t that a saying for a reason?

It was stupid and entirely built on some memory of kissing soft thighs while Liz giggled through her explanation of chemical compounds, but Jenna found herself knocking on the door with the confidence of a man who had never been told ‘no’ in his life. Liz jumped and turned her head, clearly startled. Jenna just gave her kindest smile. She had no idea what she was going to say to her. ‘How have you been’ sounded too hollow, while ‘I’ve been thinking about you every day for eight years’ felt too full.

“Hi,” Liz said, a soft smile replacing her shock as she unlocked the door, “Funny meeting you here.”

“I felt like we got off on the wrong foot,” Jenna said, “Wasn’t exactly the best way to see you again after all this time.”

“Yeah, officer,” Liz laughed, “Maybe you shouldn’t have checkpoints.”

“They’re routine.”

“They’re pointless,” Liz corrected, still giving her that smile that told Jenna everything she thought about it. Jenna just nodded. She couldn’t disagree.

“But I wouldn’t have known you were back in town, so maybe they aren’t completely pointless,” Jenna said. Liz gave a playful glare up at her.

“We get it, Jenna, you’re charming. This isn’t news,” she said. Jenna laughed, looking around. It looked different at night. Picturesque, almost. Perfect place to be standing across from a girl she’d missed for no reason. “So, can I get you anything?”

“Aren’t you already closed?”

“I can make an exception for you,” Liz offered. Jenna smiled easily, biting the inside of her cheek slightly as she looked at her. She’d somehow, miraculously, gotten more gorgeous since the first time they’d met. She didn’t know that was possible. “I’ll make you a shake, give me a few minutes.”

Liz hopped around to the other side of the counter, stealing glances over at Jenna as if she thought she was going to disappear. She had no intention to as she sat down on a barstool and leaned forward against the counter.

“What have you been up to?” Jenna asked, eager to keep the conversation going. Liz looked up at her a little wistfully.

“I was working on a study, boring biomedical research. It was for regenerative medicine so I could eventually start targeting more chronic illnesses and making them at the very least bearable, but our funding got pulled and I guess it just seemed like a good time to come home,” Liz said, shrugging.

“It’s not boring,” Jenna insisted. Liz smiled just a little. “I may not understand it, but it’s not boring. Besides, my sister does something like that. But I’m sorry your funding got pulled.”

“It’s fine,” Liz said, shrugging her shoulder, “Life happens. Just gotta roll with the punches.”

“Doesn’t make it suck less.”

“That’s true,” Liz laughed, bobbing her head to a song that was playing faintly from the jukebox, “I didn’t know your sister was into science.”

“She’s a genetic engineer,” Jenna filled in. She left out the part where she got in trouble for whistleblowing. That seemed a little too heavy for a second meeting. Still, Liz’s face lit up.

“Seriously? Does she live around here?”

“No, she’s still in the military,” Jenna said. It wasn’t a complete lie.

“Well, if she’s ever in town, let me know. I love hearing new perspectives,” she said. Jenna nodded. She didn’t actually know how she’d handle her sister and Liz talking about smart things she didn’t quite understand past a very, very basic level. It might cause too much fondness for her to handle.

“Sounds like you intend to actually stay in touch this time,” Jenna teased. Liz whipped around and pointed a spoon at her, a playful glare on her face.

“You didn’t keep in touch either.”

“I was in the military.”

“All the more reason for you to tell me where to send letters too. I could’ve written really long, obnoxious love letters and sent, like, boudoir pictures to make everyone you worked with jealous,” Liz said. Jenna laughed and leaned into the counter more.

“You could do that now, though I don’t know how that’d fair in a police station.”

“Fuck police stations,” Liz said simply. Jenna rolled her eyes and huffed a laugh. When Liz turned to her again, she gave her a very exaggerated smile as she batted her eyelashes. “Sorry, Officer, forgive me?”

“You’re forgiven,” Jenna said easily. Liz dissolved into laughter as she finished up the shake and placed it on the counter. “You’re something else.”

“Something good, I hope,” she said. Jenna nodded as she watched Liz push a straw into the drink and push it Jenna’s way.

“Very good.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Liz teased. Jenna took a sip of the shake and nodded her approval. Liz’s smile widened. “I still got it.”

She hopped up a little more and leaned over, her lips closing over the straw that Jenna’s had just been on. Then she looked up through her eyelashes and… She knew exactly what she was doing. Jenna shook her head just a little.

“Yeah,” Liz said, falling back to her feet, “I still got it.”

They stared for a long time. It felt like they were 20 again, back in that shitty college bar and drinking when they shouldn’t. Jenna’s heart picked up speed as if preparing to be tugged upstairs to prove that she’d gotten better in the eight years between them.

“I still can’t believe you’re a cop,” Liz said softly, “Didn’t you want to do something better? I feel like you said you wanted to do something better.”

Jenna shrugged. “I’m 28 and I still don’t know what I want to do when I grow up.”

“That’s fair,” Liz said, “Not many people do.”

“You do.”

“I got lucky.”

They fell into silence again, just staring. The jukebox shifted songs again and a song she couldn’t quite remember the name of started playing. It was nostalgic in a way where the exact memory didn’t come to her, but it just made her feel young.

“I haven’t heard this song in forever,” Jenna said. Liz smiled, but it wasn’t that big, bright one she’d been giving all night. This one was just a bit more bittersweet.

“It was one of my sister’s favorites,” Liz said, tapping the counter, “I pretty much liked anything she liked, so I sort of have this one memorized.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“She, uh,” Liz said, eyes drifting around a bit before meeting Jenna’s again, “She died when she was 19. Driving while drunk. Or high, or whatever.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Jenna said, empathy pulsing through her. She was already struggling as it was and her sister wasn’t even gone forever. She was just in jail for something fucking stupid. She couldn’t imagine losing her like that.

But Liz just shook her head and smiled. “It’s alright. I’ve had a decade to mourn.”

“Yeah, but grief doesn’t go away,” Jenna said. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to say in the moment and it sure as hell wasn’t going to get her laid, but it was honest. She’d lost people and grief never really faded. It just got a little bit easier to manage, a little bit easier to work it into your day to day life.

Liz seemed to know that very well.

She licked her lips, fingertips grazing the counter as she walked back around to the other side. Jenna smiled softly as she hopped into the barstool beside her. Liz nudged her shoulder into hers.

“I used to wonder what would happen if I ever saw you again,” Liz admitted, “I didn’t expect it to be here.”

“Me too,” Jenna agreed, “To both.”

Liz tapped against the counter and then leaned closer against. Jenna took a sip of the shake before turning the straw to Liz. She took a sip and looked up to Jenna, staring for a minute. Jenna was pretty sure she could enjoy Liz staring at her for the rest of her life.

The first time they met, they had been exactly what the other needed. Something light, something new, something fun. Tonight, Jenna was beginning to wonder if they’d met again at the right time to be what the other needed‒a new start when they felt a little lost.

Liz leaned a bit closer and Jenna tilted her head down to match.

“If I kiss you now, am I moving too fast?” Liz asked.

“Technically you’ve been stringing me along for eight years,” Jenna responded. Liz smiled wide and then moved up for a kiss.

And they kissed.

And they kissed.

And then there were gunshots. 

#camecho #camecho fic #liz ortecho #jenna cameron #roswell new mexico #rnm fic #my fic #my prompts for lesser ships

[ill-skillsgard]

What if Faith has a job that Faust loves to bother her at? Maybe something quiet like a bookstore or somewhere loud like a music store. He’d come into it acting as if he was SUPER intrigued about a book about knitting, but he KNOWSS she’s watching his fingers slide against the books pages...

Note: Sorry to the Faust fans for the delay. I’ve had my hands full with other writing projects, but I haven’t forgotten about our two lovebirds! I absolutely adore these two and can’t wait to write more requests! Thanks to all the sweet darlings who’ve sent in drabble requests for these two. I see you!

Read more Faust x Faith here (x)

When Summer arrived, Faith landed a job at a local bookstore in the city's only mall. Her new position cut into the time she spent texting her boyfriend, and yes, Faust was — according to her — of official boyfriend status. Though he hadn't reciprocated the formal title, he assured her in his own way that he wasn't interested in seeing other girls. That much satisfied her, until the first time Faust visited her at the store.

A week into training, they finally trusted Faith to work outside of a superior's shadow, and Faust made a trip to the mall to surprise her. Faith hadn't sent him any messages the entire day, so her surprise came swift and fierce when she turned around and saw the tall, black-clad man trudging down the DIY and recipe book aisle. She stifled an excited gasp with her mouth and approached him with a little too much eagerness. Faust took a step back, throwing his right eyebrow up as though he had never met her before.

"Hi!" Faith inhaled.

"Hi?" said Faust, maintaining his expression of confusion. "Can you show me where I might find books about serial killers?"

Faith played along with the game of strangers. She winked at him and motioned for him to follow. "Right this way, young sir. And might I say, that's a very nice inverted crucifix shirt you're wearing. I'm sure your girlfriend's parents would love that t-shirt if you were ever to meet them."

Instead of snickering, Faust sneered. "Good thing I don't have a girlfriend."

She knew he was poking fun, but her heart faltered despite the jest. It brought to the surface too many thoughts about Faust that made her second-guess her intrigue in him. He still hadn't asked for sex or given her the chance to turn it down. Not that she would; after so many weeks of teasing, Faith wanted nothing more than to feel him inside. Faust seemed to have no interest in coupling or anything more than making her come. Why Faust had yet to deem her worthy sat like a cinder block in her stomach whenever they hung out. And he was resolute when it came to ignoring her questions.

Nevertheless, Faith found herself falling hopelessly in love with the musician. Whether they had sex or not, she couldn't deny the butterflies that came alive in her stomach whenever he was near. Or were they bats? Faust was the farthest departure from her type she could imagine. Nothing about him should have enticed a girl like her, but she couldn't get enough of his odd lifestyle. 

Faith showed him to the horror section, but Faust was unfulfilled.

"No, this is all fiction. I'm talking true crime. Not Dean Koontz," said Faust.

Faith pointed down the aisle. "Just a few steps that way, sir."

"Cool, thanks."

Faust turned from her and pretended to browse before tossing her another unsettled glance. Before she could scoff and join him at his side, Faith was called away to ring out a customer. When she returned to find Faust, he had wandered around to the health and wellness section of the store. He had in his hand a book titled One Hundred and One Sex Positions; the volume splayed open in front of his face to block Faith from seeing his smirk. She watched him so intently Faust almost felt her eyes burning holes into his back.

The title made Faith forget about the cinder block in her belly. Her nerves seized while a twinge in her chest kickstarted the flow of blood to her face. Was he dropping a hint? If she made a move on him again, would he reject it once more, leaving her insecure and hopeless? Faust claimed to care about her, so what benefit did he receive from stringing her along? Faith had a dozen and more questions for him, but it had to wait until she finished her shift.

He invited Faith over that evening, encouraging her to tell her parents she was going to see Jessica. The thought of her lying just to see him always filled him with twisted joy. 

Tonight she seemed different. Faith was rambunctious, bouncing all over his apartment like a child high on sugar until he calmly asked her to have a seat with him. She did and soon climbed over his lap to thread her fingers through his hair and latch onto his neck. Faust let her suckle a faint red welt on his neck before he pulled back to occupy her mouth with his own.

As their kiss deepened, Faust let his hands find the swells of her bottom, and stayed there, squeezing and caressing until she whimpered into his mouth. Faith fretted against his lap, trying to get a feel for his cock beneath his jeans. When nothing sprung up, she pulled away, searching his eyes for any sign he wasn't enjoying himself.

"What?" He asked.

"You don't really like me, do you?" Faith asked.

"What are you talking about? I'm kissing you?"

"So what? You've kissed lots of other girls that you claim you didn't like. What makes me different?"

Faust rolled his eyes. "Oh, here we go again."

"It makes no sense why you won't fuck me. We've been seeing each other for weeks now. You don't have to be a gentleman anymore."

A mocking laugh turned her face to stone. Faith withdrew another few inches, her brows screwed together as she continued straddling his lap. "It's got shit all to do with me being a gentleman, I can tell you that."

"You can tell me that? But you won't tell me why you won't have sex with me?"

"I told you, I'm not ready."

"Bullshit!" She exclaimed, nearly startling herself by the volume that leapt from her mouth. "What was with you coming to my job and teasing me? When you know I've been dying to... To..."

Her eyes welled up, and her bottom lip trembled. The next intake of breath rattled her throat. Faust had struck the sore spot once and for all.

"Dying to what? To fuck me? You've been dying to have sex with a guy your parents won't even let you see? Why? So you can fall in love with me and then have your father forbid me from seeing you? I'm not getting involved in that shit for a reason."

"And what's that reason?" Faith sniffled.

"Your dad is the kind of guy who'd call the cops on me for walking near his car. If he found out I fucked his precious daughter, betcha any money he'd come after me. And I don't want to have to put your dad in the hospital."

"That won't happen! He'll like you if he knows I like you. You just have to..."

"Change everything about myself?" Faust finished her sentence.

"No!" Faith said. "Maybe just don't wear the most graphic metal t-shirt you have and some blue jeans. He won't hate you."

"It doesn't matter. He's a preacher, and that's not what I'm about."

"Who cares? It doesn't have to be a thing if you don't make it one."

Faust studied her face, the slope of her nose, the eyelashes framing her eager eyes and every soft line and curve that had him enraptured with the girl. He sighed and kissed the tip of her nose. She tried to scrunch away, but couldn't deny the peck warmed her mood.

"You're pretty," said Faust.

"Shut up, I want to be mad at you," Faith pouted.

"I like you," he continued.

"Then why won't you?—"

"I want to have sex with you. I do. Trust me. But I want to meet your parents first."

Faith blinked, bewildered by his request. "But why?"

"I'd like to look the man in the eyes and shake his hand before I fuck his daughter," said Faust. 

#faust x faith #faust stuff #valter skarsgard fanfiction

[moonlit-imagines]

Switchblade

Richie Tozier x Hocksetter!reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: y/n doesn’t like the way that their brother’s friends step all over other kids, so y/n decides to stand up to them

Derry wasn’t full of the best people, or the most interesting, but nobody seemed to care at this point. Every once in a while you’d see someone a little out of the ordinary, but sooner or later, they’re just another face.

You were stuck in Bowers’ stupid gang thanks to your older brother, Pat. He insisted that you’d be safer with them, but you called bullshit. You hated the way they treated the other students, they wouldn’t listen to you.

“Henry, get it together!” You shoved him. “You have no good reason to fuck with a bunch of kids! Stop being a little bitch and pick on someone your own size.” Henry clenched his jaw and glared at your brother.

“Listen, Hocksetter two point oh, I don’t take orders from you.” He walked towards you, but he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you.

“Maybe you should.” You stomped away and left your group in the dust. You maneuvered around the hallway of students with your skateboard under your arm and found your class. Geometry. A real snooze. You sat near two of the kids that Henry insisted on fucking with so bad. Tozier and Uris. A year ahead in math, but you knew Tozier was about to flunk this class. You graded papers after school every week.

You tapped on Richie’s arm, but he flinched and pulled away. You pulled back and gave him a half smile as he stared in fear.

“Sorry, sorry,” you whispered, “I was just making sure you were okay. I’m sick of Henry treating you guys like shit.” Richie stared at you through his glasses, his bug eyes only communicated confusion.

“I’m fine.” He mumbled and turned away. You hummed and tapped your pencil on your desk. You saw Stanley eying the two of you curiously.

“Mr. Uris, eyes up front.” Your teacher instructed. Soon, the bell rang and everyone swarmed out the door. Stanley and Richie joined a line of losers and discussed what had just happened.

“What did y/n say to you, Rich?” Stan asked.

“Nothing important.” He shrugged. Stanley sighed and headed for the front doors of the school with the rest of the losers, eager to get home and finish his 1200 piece puzzle he had gotten over the weekend.

But life wasn’t so simple. Bowers and his gang snuck up from behind and grabbed Richie and Bill by their collars. And they immediately began insulting them, which didn’t bode well for them. But you caught sight of the brewing altercation and ran over before it could escalate even further.

“You son of a bitch, Henry!” You punched his back. “Let go of them, asshole!” He unballed his fists and turned to you. Reg, Vic, and Pat blocked the Losers from running off.

“I’m sick and tired of you being soft, y/n. You aren’t in charge!” He pushed you to the ground and your brother stepped forward. “Back off, Hocksetter!” You crawled to your feet and delivered a punch to his jaw.

“What are you guys standing there for? Run!” You told the kids. Bowers spit on the ground.

“I’ll deal with you later, brat.” Bowers told you. “Go after them! Those little shits don’t get off that easily!” You dropped your skateboard and left them in the dust. You were able to catch up to a few of the losers.

“Why are you helping us?” Eddie asked as he shook his inhaler.

“You think I wanna stoop to their level? I hate the way they treat everyone and I’m ashamed that I’ve stood idly by and let them do what they do.” You admitted. “They’re fuckin’ crazy, you guys. I don’t think they’d care if they killed you.” The kids eyes went wide. “Go on, get moving! Where’s Richie?”

“He ran into the woods. He thought he could lose them that way.” The new kid told you.

“They’re not gonna stop until they find you. They’ll pound on your doors if they have to.” You shook your head. “But you’ll be safe in your houses. Henry’s dad’s a cop, so if he trespasses, he’s fucked. You guys are probably in the clear if you leave now, so go. I’ll find your friend and get him home safely. Good luck.” The kids nodded and rushed in each direction to get home. You hopped a few fences and reached the woodland part of Derry. Kid couldn’t have gone far.

The twigs and leaves snapped, crackled, and popped under your boots. The trek was starting to get boring, you were losing hope in finding this kid, but it was either you or the gang.

Finally, you saw the kid leaning on a tree. He had his headphones on, nodding his head along to the music. Great minds think alike. In your times of trouble, you’d turn to music, as well. He was apparently working on homework, but as you stepped closer, you startled him and he pulled out his switchblade and threw his headphones down.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry!” You lifted you arms. “I’m not gonna hurt you. You always carry that knife?” You asked.

“Recently.” He muttered. You stepped closer and kneeled down.

“Relax, Richie. I don’t want you to get hurt. My brother and his friends are grade A assholes.” You looked at his work. “Geometry homework, huh?”

“I’m gonna fail, but I’ll probably die first.” He joked.

“Not on my watch.” You reached a hand out and helped him up. “Bowers and the crew aren’t gonna stop until they find you, so I’m walking you home, got it?”

“Why?” He asked.

“Did you not just hear me? They’re gonna kill you.” You told him.

“I can get home by myself, I don’t need an escort.” He argued.

“Shut up, I’m trying to help you. Maybe I’ll even help you pass Mrs. Sullivan’s class while I’m at it.” You picked his bag up and handed it to him.

“Why help after all this time?” He asked.

“Because, I couldn’t let you get harassed any longer. I’m genuinely sorry that I didn’t do anything sooner, but if we don’t go now, you’re fucked.” You began walking.

“Fuck.” Richie groaned. He swallowed his pride and stomped alongside you. You smirked and shook your head.

“Where to?” You asked.

“That way.” He pointed. “Jesus Christ, my mom’s probably gonna invite you in for cookies.”

“Great, maybe I’ll get laid, too.” You chuckled.

“Hey, mom jokes are my thing!” He protested. “I’ll fuck your mom if you look at mine!” You stuck your hand in your pocket and reached for a cigarette, then pulled a lighter out of the other. “Oh, look, here comes cancer.” He rolled his eyes.

“What, you want one?” You asked, pulling another out.

“Of fucking course I do.” He snatched it and stuck it in his mouth, then you lit it for him. He put on a Bugs Bunny impression. “Very nice, see? Would you look at that, see?” You chuckled at him.

“I’ve never seen your wisecracking self, only the scared little boy running in the wind.” You commented and he shoved you.

“Maybe you’d see it if your mullet-wearing disgrace of a friend would back the fuck off.” He took his cigarette in between his fingers.

“Hey, listen here. Bowers is not a friend. Bowers is a bitch.” You told him. “He cries when he gets embarrassed and he’s a lying dirtbag. You know that Marsh girl?”

“Yeah, she and him were together, right?” His question made you cackle.

“Hell no! That poor girl’s reputation isn’t true in the slightest. She kicked Henry in the dick because he backed her against a wall.” You laughed.

“Holy shit, that’s great.” He walked into the road. “Why haven’t I heard that story before?”

“Nobody dares expose him for the pussy that he is.”

The pair of you exchanged jokes for a few blocks, then found Richie’s house.

“Get your ass in there.” You gently pushed him to the door.

“Not unless you come in with me.” He retorted.

“Your mom better be in there.” You patted him on the back. He rolled his eyes and opened up the door.

“This is my glorious home, drop your shit wherever.” He told you. “My room is the third door on the right.” You walked in and sat down on his bed. He came in about three minutes later with two slices of pizza.

“Oh, nice.” You reached for a slice, but he pulled away.

“Back off, these are mine.” He said with his chewed pizza in his mouth. You frowned at this and he laughed a bit. “I’m kidding, take it.”

“Good one, four eyes.” You took the other slice. “So you just let anyone into your house? Until like three hours ago you hated me.”

“Hates a strong word. But yeah, I hated you.” He sorted through his bag and found his geometry homework. “You showed us that you’re not an asshole though, that’s what matters. Now help me pass this stupid class.”

You spent the next few hours helping Richie out with his homework, but his mom came home and it got a little awkward.

“Who’s this, Richie?” His mom asked.

“Y/N was just helping me with some math homework.” He told her.

“Well, that’s sweet. I’m getting dinner ready, would you like to eat with us?” She asked you.

“Sounds great! Thank you.” You smiled and she left the room. You nudged Richie with your elbow and he pushed your shoulder.

“Next time were going to your house and I’m gonna flirt with your mom the entire time.” He told you.

“Oh, so there’s a next time?” You asked.

“I’m hoping so.” He put his books down.

“Well, Bowers is at our house a lot, so I don’t advise going there.” You grabbed his hand.

“You’re right, probably for the best.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t think I’ve said it yet, so thanks for the save. If you didn’t walk me home, I probably would’ve pissed myself.”

“Anytime, Rich. You’re a pretty cool dude.” You poked his side.

“I’m definitely cooler than you.” He snarked.

“Oh, shut up.” You told him.

“Make me.” He leaned forward. You took a shot in the dark and kissed him, and lucky for you, he kissed back. You took a second to pull back.

“Well, we’re moving fast.” You remarked.

“I’m not complaining.” He kissed you once more, but his mom knocked on the door. You each flew back and played the roles of tutor and student.

“Okay, so a squared plus b squared equals c squared, got it?” You explained to Richie. He was leaned over with a hand propping his head up and nodded.

“Oh, look at you two. Anyways, dinner’s ready! Come on out.” She smiled and walked away, so you and Richie let out a small fit of giggles. His face was bright red.

“Really? The Pythagoreon Theorem? I know that one!” He told you.

“Well, apparently not according to last weeks test.”

#richie tozier imagine #richie toizer x reader #richie tozier #it richie #it #it imagine #it x reader #it chapter 2 imagine #it chapter 1 imagine #it chapter 1 x reader #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 x reader #it chapter 2

[just-a-spark]

The Before, and The After Part 2

A Knives Out Story

Series Masterlist 

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content (18+ to be safe, but it’s still mild here)

Summery: A wealthy classmate of Meg’s becomes close to the family, a little too close to the playboy grandson of Harlan Thrombey. The events leading up to, and following, Harlan Thrombey’s death.

It was cool outside the day of Harlan Thrombey’s funeral. Elizabeth scrolled through her news feed, reading all the articles about Harlan’s death. “I just can’t believe he’s gone.”

“I know.” Elizabeth’s husband Phil murmured, reaching over and taking her hand. He pulled it to his lips and kissed it, taking his eyes off the road to gaze at his wife, “When was the last time you spoke to him?”

“When we were there last month for Linda and Richard’s anniversary party.” Elizabeth whispered, looking out the window as she tried not to cry, “He didn’t really want to talk to me, though. Things were never the same after his birthday last year.” Elizabeth mumbled, brushing her fiery hair back over her head into the messy bun at the nape of her neck. “Maybe if we had patched things up we could have been at this last one.”

Elizabeth felt her grief wash over her, knowing Phil would never fully understand why she was so broken over Harlan’s death. She’d always wonder, if she was around the night of his eighty-fifth birthday, could she have convinced him not to do it? To not end his own life and leave his poor family in ruins.

“We’ll be there for his family now. They’ll appreciate it.”

“Also, can we talk about how your father suggested I talk to the cops about Harlan’s death? What the hell gave him that idea?” Elizabeth turned to Phillip and he just shrugged as he parked their Mercedes Benz into the cemetery parking lot.

Philip quickly exited the car and came around to open Elizabeth’s door, holding out his hand to help his pregnant wife out of the car. The pregnancy was new, they’d only known about a month and were keeping it under wraps. There was no need to draw attention to their future at a funeral.

She smoothed down the black dress she wore, hitting mid-calf and hanging loosely over her slim stomach. If there had been any bump to show, Elizabeth had hidden it with the loose, simple frock. She didn’t want any attention. She just wanted to come in and pay her respects to her idol and friend.

Elizabeth kept her head down as her husband escorted her toward the group gathered in front of an intricate mausoleum. She clipped in a black fascinator and veil to cover her face, wanting to shrink into the background as Linda Drysdale took her place in front of the crowd to speak, but Elizabeth didn’t hear her speech.

She scanned the crowd with her bright emerald eyes in a daze, feeling her head begin to swim. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, leaning against her husband as her legs began to quiver.

“Are you okay?” Phil whispered in her ear, and she nodded.

“I’m fine. It’s just a lot.”

“We won’t stay long.” Phil told her as he squeezed her arm, then noticed his dad walking toward them after Linda finished speaking.

“Hello, how are you two?” Alan Stevens pulled his son into a hug before turning to his daughter-in-law, “How’s my grandson?”

Elizabeth blinked rapidly, swaying her head back and forth. She could have sworn she’d heard Harlan’s voice, “What?”

“I said how is my grandchild?” Alan repeated, looking to his son nervously, “I’m going to speak with the family, set up a time for the will reading. You two will come over for dinner this evening?”

“We wouldn’t miss it. She just wants to check on Meg before we head out.” Phil explained, but Elizabeth didn’t confirm or deny this. She just stumbled over a step away from her husband and looked back toward the casket in front of the mausoleum.

The world felt like it was spinning by the time she reached it, but Elizabeth pressed her hand to the casket, finally allowing herself to cry, “I’m so sorry I let you down.”

Lizzie leaned into the cushions of Harlan’s vintage couch as she nursed her beer. She’d pulled her hair up into a high pony tail as afternoon turned to evening and the Thrombey family had gotten louder and more opinionated.

She eyed Meg as her friend snuck a drink of her mother’s wine, a warning that a safe drive home wasn’t on the horizon- for anyone in the family.

“All I’m saying is, if we don’t clean up our act, we’re going to have to leave Earth. Our actual planet won’t be inhabitable anymore, global warming is not that controversial.” Joni stumbled forward a step when she realized her wine glass was empty, “I’m getting another glass, Liz- you want another-”

“No thank you. I’m fine.” Lizzie answered sweetly, swishing around the half-full bottle.

“Mom, we’re probably going to stay the night, let me have one glass!” Meg slurred, which only set off Richard more than Joni’s global warming talk had.

“Joni, you can’t be serious, she’s eighteen. She’s already been drinking all your alcohol, she’s not legal!” Richard called as Joni reappeared with a sloppy grin and a glass of wine in each hand. Richard rolled his eyes and turned to his wife, “Linda, are you fucking kidding me with this bullshit?”

“It’s her daughter, she can do what she wants.” Linda answered and Richard stared at Joni with pure shock as she handed her daughter the glass.

Walt looked over at his young son’s phone, then grabbed it harshly and handed it to his wife, “Jacob, I swear, if I catch you on that site again-”

“You liberal hippies and your free-spirited parenting techniques! You’re the reason this country has so many drug addicts, nobody understands the repercussions of their actions!” Richard yelled back at Joni, but she just swayed to whatever music played in her head, causing Elizabeth to bite her lip to hold back her laughter.

Harlan had bid them goodbye an hour ago, retreating to his room with his nurse to get some rest while his family continued on with their partying. The smell of cigar smoke was thick in the air, mingling with the burning of the fireplace just outside the sitting room. Meg had long discarded her shoes and jacket, and Lizzie began to realize it would be smart for her to do the same. She wasn’t getting back to Amherst tonight.

Lizzie cleared her throat, getting the attention of Walt’s wife Donna nearby, “I need to use the restroom? Great Nana seems to have taken up residence in the downstairs one.”

“Oh! I’ll go check on her. Go up the stairs, down the hall, you’ll find it on the left.” Donna tried to stand, then quickly fell back down into her chair. “I’ll get to Great Nana in a few minutes.”

“Take your time, I’m sure she’s fine.” Lizzie answered, having noticed Great Nana peak out of the restroom every twenty to thirty minutes to make sure everyone was still there. She wasn’t sick, she was hiding.

Lizzie couldn’t blame her.

She followed Donna’s directions up the twisted staircase, taking her time to examine Harlan’s framed posters on the walls on her way up. When she reached the second floor of the dark mansion, she bent down and pulled off her heels so she could walk barefoot along the rug.

Looking down over the banister, she could hear the family’s arguing intensifying and began to question if they’d even realize if she took Meg’s car home and came back for her tomorrow. Lizzie looked to the left for the bathroom, but was startled by a deep voice behind her.

“It’s the other way. Don’t use the guest bathroom after Walt, that’s a recipe for disaster.”

Lizzie twirled around to see Ransom sitting on the next staircase leading farther up into the house, nursing his own beer. She hadn’t realized he was still around after he disappeared hours earlier. She clamped her hands together and looked to her right, “Thanks for the tip.”

Ransom groaned as he pushed himself to his feet. He pushed his hand through his dark hair and scowled downstairs, “You needed a break from them, too?”

“I didn’t realize you were even still here.” Lizzie admitted, studying Ransom’s pretty face as he focused on his family, “Where have you been?”

He scoffed, gesturing down the hallway to the right, “I’ve been around. Played a couple rounds of Go with my grandfather and then grabbed another beer when what’s her name came up to put him to bed.”

“Marta.” Lizzie corrected and Ransom eyed her lazily. She stopped walking and turned to face him, “Her name is Marta. She’s a nurse.”

“Okay. I don’t care.”

“You should. She’s a person.” Lizzie peaked into the room Ransom was leading her too, seeing a bathroom beyond the far wall. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m pretty sure I can see myself to the restroom. I don’t need a babysitter, especially not a misogynist like you.”

“That’s a big word for, what, an eighteen year old? You’re one of Meg’s classmates, right?” Ransom challenged and Lizzie responded by going into the bathroom and slamming the door in his face. She stared at her reflection for a moment, torn between wanting to hide like Great Nana and wanting to banter with Harlan Thrombey’s grandson some more.

Lizzie turned when she heard the door outside the bathroom close, making her decision for her. After a few minutes she emerged, fully expecting to be alone, but she was wrong.

Ransom sat on the bed, scrolling through his phone. He’d closed the door, but seemed to lock himself in with the woman. She piqued her brow and decided banter it was. “Oh, so you make a habit of locking yourself in bedrooms with eighteen year olds? Real classy, I’m sure your parents are so proud.”

“You aren’t eighteen. You’re a senior. Writing major. Your father is the Dean of your college and your mother is a Senator.” Ransom looked up and met Lizzie’s eyes with renewed interest, “And here I thought you were the help.”

“You seem to be under the impression you’re the only person in the world with money, but if I had to guess I’d say you’ve never earned a dollar of your own.” Lizzie crossed her arms and leaned against the nineteenth century dresser across from the bed. “What do you do? Model? Act?”

“I do whatever I want.” Ransom answered, leaning back onto his elbows to stretch out on the bed. Lizzie ran her eyes up his long torso, but she dared to linger on the little bit of exposed skin of his waist where his grey sweater rode up.

“Uh huh. So no job? Just... living off of Grandpa’s money, right?” Lizzie shoved herself off of the dresser, feeling a head ache growing in the back of her skull. “Where do you live?”

“I’ve got my own place. I can take you there, if you want?” Ransom asked boldly, licking his lip as he stared up at the beautiful redhead. She was stunning. From her pale skin to her tiny waist, Ransom drank her in as she stood before him, but she made him wait for his answer.

Lizzie shook her head slightly, just enough to get her message across, “No. You’ve got to earn it.”

Ransom sat up and lulled his head to the side as he squinted up at her,“Sounds like a lot of work.”

“It’ll be worth it if you do.” Lizzie answered and closed the gap between them and caught his lips with hers, using one hand to tug on his messy hair and the other to hold the nape of his neck so he couldn’t escape. She fought herself into his mouth, tasting him for a long moment before pulling away to leave the bedroom.

Before her fingers could brush the door knob, a strong hand grabbed her other wrist and gently pulled her back into a kiss that was too soft, too sweet, and too out of character for the asshole Lizzie believed Ransom to be. But with some hard work on is part, she made his efforts worth it that night.

#knives out #knives out fanfic #knives out fanfiction #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fanfiction

[getoutofthewater]

@dbhrarepairs Monday Day 1: Laughter + Supernatural 

[Gavin/Leo]

Rating: T

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Horror Elements, Character Death (but happy ending)

Words: 3,546 [AO3 Link]

This wasn’t a good idea, Leo knew that, but common sense wasn’t his strong suit. You didn’t go into the thick woods when you were super fucked up on half a bottle of vodka and that new red-ice thing; you didn’t walk into a derelict, abandoned house, with junkies you called your friends but the truth was you barely knew them and they, as Matt’s troubled bird had said, would sell you to satan for one corn chip, or even less. Common sense may not be strong within him, but Leo was really good at predicting outcomes.

They came upon the house all of a sudden, one of those victorian monstrosities. Leo hadn’t actually believed it would be there, but here it was just like a corpse in the middle of the woods forgotten and rotting (just like he’d be all too soon), and something told him he should run back now, but he didn’t trust himself to tell right from left in his current state, when would he learn not to mix his booze with his drugs.

They sneaked in through a window; Leo cut himself with the broken glass, got dirt all over him. Everything was going fantastic, he thought he saw huge black blotches, blacker than black, run away from them as they walked through the house, spiders he guessed, kinda big ones, he didn’t mind spiders all that much (as well he shouldn’t, a few would be living inside his skull soon enough) but his whole body itched uncomfortably anyway, maybe because the house reminded him somewhat of his dad’s place, same expensive wood work, same icy chill of indifference.

There was a crash and then jarring laughter, his 3 companions were getting rowdy, breaking whatever they could find that wasn’t broken already. Leo didn’t feel like joining them, really all he wanted was to curl up somewhere and fucking sleep it off, maybe there would be a room upstairs, he’d do with an old mattress or whatever, he found a stairwell, but it looked unsafe, like it wouldn’t hold his weight at all. He heard doors opening and slamming shut upstairs though, and wondered if someone was living here, or if it was only the wind and the whole old house would come down on their heads, as if replying to the doors upstairs, a door right next to him slammed shut startling him. ‘Don’t be fucking stupid’ Leo told himself ‘it’s just a drafty, old, spooky house’

“Hey, check this shit out!” Vic called out

Leo went into the big living room to check that shit out, because again, no common sense.

The bright moonlight coming in through the window gave the room an eerie glow, there were rusty symbols all over the walls, all over the floor.

“That looks like real blood, man” Drew said, he sounded amazed but not scared

“Maybe, like, we shouldn’t be here when whoever did this comes back” Leo said, his head was starting to hurt, he felt like he was going to black out any second now, want it or not, and he shivered involuntarily when he saw the same rusty thing splattered on the wall, it put him in mind of, like, blood from a gunshot in a movie, execution style, that type of thing.

“You don’t know what this is?” Rod said “This is form 3 years ago, when that guy got killed here”

Oh, yeah, Leo remembered now, there had been a disappearance at the very least, but Rod always liked to blow things out of proportion especially when drunk or high.

“It was so messed up” Rod continued excitedly “He was killed right here, they never caught the guy that actually did it, but some drunk kids found the body, still warm, some say he was still alive when they found him. They were some weird fucks, like into witchcraft and shit, so they drew this crap in his blood, the next day one of them called the police because he was too freaked out about it, but when they came back with the cops the body was gone”

“Bullshit, you are making this shit up” Drew argued

“I’m not, my brother told me!” Rod hesitated, as if he’d said something he shouldn’t “Fucking google it!” he added

“I fucking will” Drew said, taking out his phone “Oh shit, no fucking signal”

The house creaked then, it sounded like heavy footsteps on the second floor you couldn’t get to, at least not by the rotting staircase

“Maybe we should put in new blood, to appease the house demons” Vic said grandly, walking into the weird circle in the floor, he said it loudly like someone who is suddenly afraid but won’t admit to it  

“Yeah, why not” Rod replied, always willing to play along “who is it going to be” he said taking his knife out of his pocket

“Leo’s just cut himself with the window” Drew gave him away

“Shut the fuck up” Leo said

“Perfect!” Rod said “Come on Leo, don’t be a pussy”

“Whatever” Leo said rolling his eyes, he walked into the creepy circle, and touched the floor, smudging a bit of his clotting blood on it “There, happy?”

Rod yanked Leo’s hand suddenly and cut through his palm, drops of fresh blood fell from the new wound.  

“Shit, man!” Leo exclaimed clutching at his hand, the cut wasn’t that deep, but it was painful “What the fuck, what’s wrong with you?!”

“It’s barely a scratch” Rod said “Why are you always such a whiny bitch?” He said shoving Leo’s shoulder, trying to provoke him, but Leo wasn’t stupid enough to get into a head on fight with Rod when they both were this fucked up.

“Yeah, whatever I’m out of here” Leo said, he felt his blood run down his arm soaking his jumper’s sleeve, still dripping into the floor, into the weird circle made out of  someone else’s old, dried up blood

“You can’t go yet” Rod spat, holding Leo by his arm

“Just let him go, Rod” Vic said cautiously

“No one is leaving if I don’t fucking feel like it” Rod said taking his gun out

The footsteps were louder upstairs now, but none of them noticed, focusing as they were in Rod and his gun, this wasn’t new, it was always like this, his tantrums.

“Come on, Rod, we are having fun here, right?” Drew said, he had the most practice deescalating these type of situations

Then everything happened all at once, the doors of the moonlight lit room slammed shut, and someone started knocking wildly at the other side of them, the black spiders upset by this (and were they actually spiders, Leo couldn’t really tell) ran all over the walls, Rod started shooting aimlessly at them, at the doors, at any shadow that startled him

“Don’t fucking mess with me, I’m going to fucking kill you!” Rod said wildly, apparently that red-ice thing only made him more volatile, good to know

Drew tried to grab the gun, Leo vaguely thought his head hurt more now and then he finally blacked out.

“Fucking wake up, you fucking idiot!” Was the next thing Leo heard, he didn’t open his eyes, someone kicked at his legs “Enough, fucking dumbass!”

“Jeez, stop fucking kicking at me, what the hell” Leo sat up feeling groggy, but in a nice way, as if he had just waken from a refreshing evening nap. The room was just as before, but quiet, his friends weren’t anywhere to be seen, a man he didn’t recognize stood over him, he looked slightly older than him, really pissed off

“I think I blacked out” Leo said, he tried to take his phone out to see the hour, but it wasn’t in his pocket, he may have dropped it anywhere in the woods, damn it.

“You think” The pissed off man said, “You shouldn’t have been here in the first place, stupid fucking kids, coming here, “I dare you to do this, I dare you to do that, let’s see which of us has less fucking brains hahaha” fucking hell!” the man said

“I’m not a kid, I’m 28!” Leo said, he could claim the upper hand on that point at least

“If anything that works against you, dumbass” The man said drily

“You were messing with us with the doors and the footsteps and shit, that is so very grown up of you” Leo rebuked, “You squatting here or what?”

The man shrugged “None of your fucking business”

Leo decided to take that as a yes, even if the man didn’t look at all like a homeless person. His leather jacket and his green v-neck shirt looked new, his hair was brushed back with one or two strands falling over his forehead, a bit of a vintage bad boy look, it suited him.

“So,” Leo said “How did you get on the second floor? Those stairs are like rotting out”

“So far, so good” the man said

“Can you show me?” Leo asked, because it was that, or get back to town alone by the dark woods, or try to find the others, but maybe this guy would let him stay until it was light out

The man scoffed, “Whatever,” he said walking out of the living room, Leo scrambled up to follow him

The man walked up the stairs with his heavy steps, Leo stood at the foot of the staircase looking at it dubiously, but if it held on to this guy stumping around, it would probably stand his lighter steps, he followed him up.

The rooms in the second floor were just as abandoned as the first although not as vandalized, maybe because not many dared walk up those fragile-looking stairs. If he was squatting here he was really living with nothing but rotting wood and bird poop. The man sat casually at the little bar, where there were still dusty glasses and full bottles as if whoever had lived here had just walked out and forgotten to come back.

“How you feeling?” The man asked with a frown that seemed to Leo more puzzled than angry or  worried

“Actually good” Leo replied, sitting at the window seat, “I was like, really messed up, but now I’m feeling better. What’s your name?”

The man glared at him

“Come on! Question for question, it’s only fair!” Leo insisted

“Gavin” Gavin said shortly

“I’m Leo!” Leo said with a smile, and turned to look out of the window “Hey! What’s that?”

There were colored lights floating in the distance, were they like car lights, or chinese lanterns, or even bugs? He couldn’t really tell. They floated up and down in different colors, blue and purple, and green and yellow and orange.

Gavin shrugged, “Dunno, weird lights, they show up sometimes”

“Wanna go check them out?” Leo said excitedly

“What the hell for?”

“Aren’t you curious to see what they are?”

“No,” Gavin said drily “unlike someone I don’t trip all over myself because I see something shiny”

“Oh, come on!”

After a moment of consideration Gavin scoffed, but he got up

“Yeah!” Leo said animatedly  

As they went back down the stairs there was a loud thump, this time it seemed to come from under them, Leo stopped to listen; maybe that’s where his friends had gone to hide without him

“Get a move on, dumbass!” Gavin called out to him “We’ll miss your lights or whatever the fuck”

Leo rushed after him, the lights did seem more interesting, and Gavin seemed like much better company than Rod with his gun. The woods felt eerier that usual, but maybe it was only because he was following a literal stranger off the path, it wasn’t a good idea, but he really wanted to trust this Gavin.

Again, Leo saw weird shadows through the trees, this time they seemed more human-like, or at least humanish, but they were too thin, their arms and legs too long, they gave him a really creepy feeling but maybe he was imagining things, maybe he was still under like red-ice hallucinations or whatever, he thought he saw them climb the trees with those long limbs, in a viscous way, like sap only going up instead of down, and fast, they crouched in three branches and Leo hoped that sap like thing wouldn’t drip on him

“Ignore them” Gavin said irritably

“You can see them too?”

Gavin shook his head and gave him a look, talking about them wasn’t ignoring them

Leo looked down at his feet and the dry leaves, trying to ignore the anxious, creepy feeling he was getting, he wanted to run away, he wanted to cry, he noticed with alarm he was starting to hyperventilate; he wasn’t this much of a chicken on the regular

“For fucks sake!” Gavin growled “That’s not fucking ignoring them!”

Leo looked up at him still breathing way too fast, he wondered if he was going to black out again. If Gavin would leave him in the middle of the woods alone, and with those things there.

Gavin scoffed, and looked around as if searching for an answer “Shit! I’ll hold your fucking hand if that makes you stop this bullshit”

“What?” Leo breathed

“Here” Gavin said, sounding exasperated but taking his hand “They have to go through me to get to you, just pretend they aren’t there”

“O- okay” Leo said, he did feel better now that Gavin was holding his hand, safer, he focused on Gavin’s back and tried to control his breathing, ignoring the weird viscous blobs of shadow he could still see in the corner of his eyes.

Leo expected to get to a clearing or something, but they were still walking through the trees when the lights started to shine through them, pretty orbs of light the size of a ping pong ball, floating about a bit like bugs.

“What are they?” Leo asked, looking around, his curiosity pushing away his fear

“Dunno, I’d never come this close”

“Why not?”

“What’s the point?”

“Look at them! They are so freaking cool! Doesn’t it make you feel happy just to see them?”

Gavin looked up, the different colors reflected on his face

“Guess it’s not too bad” Gavin shrugged

“Not too bad?” Leo asked “This is like, sick supernatural shit” Leo tried to touch one of the orbs, it felt weird, squishy in an unpleasant electric way, like water carrying a low electric current, that didn’t hurt you but felt very unpleasant to touch, Leo took his hand away startled by it

Gavin huffed as if he were holding on to a laugh,

“You always go around touching what you shouldn’t?” Gavin said with a smirk

“Maybe” Leo replied shamelessly

Gavin scoffed again. Is he annoyed, Leo thought, or amused? Annoyed or amused? Annoyed or–

“Watch it” Gavin said, grabbing him by the collar of his jumper, and pulling him a few steps back. Some of the thin weird shadows were coming closer, Leo saw one reach for one of the lights with his too-long, too-thin arm, fast like a frog’s tongue, it dragged the little blue light into the oily shadows, and right afterwards Leo could hear some crunching sounds that made him feel sick, like little bird’s bones being cracked and crushed

“What the fuck are those?”

“I don’t know, just ignore them and don’t try to fucking touch them” Gavin said, starting to walk back where they had come from

Leo followed him grabbing on to Gavin’s hand again without waiting for an invitation, guessing that was a given, especially with the crunching and the “Don’t Touch” and stuff. It occurred to him then that maybe he was dreaming, maybe he was still passed out, or like ODing and shit, but if that was so Leo didn’t really mind, this was a very nice dream so far, sure fucking weird, kinda creepy, but overall nice, the type were you meet someone you feel like you’ve known forever, someone you just feel happy and comfortable with and then you wake up and are heartbroken for a minute when you realize they don’t exist, and go about feeling stupidly lonely for the rest of the day. He squeezed Gavin’s hand, as he forced himself not to look back at those things, he seemed real enough.

“Hey!” Leo said when they came to the house again “Maybe we could go somewhere else sometime? Like in the city and things”

Gavin turned to look at him darkly, he was angry

“I mean, if you want” Leo said, feeling suddenly self-conscious

Gavin let go of his hand and went into the house, when Leo stepped in he could hear voices, which he immediately recognized as those of his friends, clearly coming from the basement.

“So, I guess” Leo hesitated “I’ll get out of your hair now; that was really neat though” he said awkwardly before going down the steps “Hey, guys!” Leo called out animatedly, trying to ignore the sorry feeling he had at having annoyed Gavin somehow “You won’t believe what I saw, it was crazy!”

“Did you hear that?” Vic said, “Like someone coming down the stairs”

“Stop being paranoid, and help” Rod spat

Leo walked up to his friends, and there on the floor was his body, although he recognized himself more by his clothes than anything else, he was lying on the floor, one of his eyes a bloody mess, the bullet had gone right through it into his brain. He turned to look at the stairs. Gavin was sitting there with that dark look still on his face, which now Leo recognized for an assholish way of being angry about the situation but not at him, Gavin shrugged, there wasn’t anything he could do.

“We can’t leave him here, it was an accident, we can explain that!” Vic was saying “what if his dad asks about him?”

“Please, don’t be ridiculous” Drew replied “Only real concerns while we bury the fucking body”

“I’m not going to fucking jail precisely because it was an accident” Rod said “nobody is going to look for him, plus he’ll have company”

He lifted a lose floorboard, a skeleton was already there completely anonymous except for the green V-neck, the leather jacket, his hands tied behind his back, a hole in his skull.

“How did you know he was in there?” Vic said in a low tone, Leo felt sorry for him

“My brother told me” Rod said dangerously “they never found him, or who did it. If you two shut up, they’ll never find Leo either”

“Shit, this is fucked up, man” Vic said, as the three of them dumped Leo’s body in the hole with the other murder victim. Placing the floorboards over them, dragging the old furniture that had been over the first grave just as they found it; there was a dead cat in one corner of the basement, already decomposing. Drew started to kick the sorry dead thing so it lay near the site of the grave.

“There, if anyone smells anything they’ll think it’s the cat” Drew said, giving it a last kick. Rod threw up

“Now, now you fucking throw up” Drew said

“The fucking cat has maggots in it” Rod argued

“Can we get the fuck out of here?” Vic said, “I keep hearing shit”

They ran out of the house, and were already joking about whatever when they were only a few feet away.

“Great friends those” Gavin said drily, still sitting on the steps

Leo walked up to him and put his arms around his neck

“What the fuck are you doing?” Gavin said, trying to lean back away from him

“I’m giving you a hug” Leo replied

“Whatever the fuck for?”

“I mean, I’m so sorry they never found you, and that you died and everything” Leo said softly “Like I didn’t even notice, it didn’t hurt or anything, but you should have been like really scared and things”

“You just died, dumbass” Gavin said, pushing him away gently “Worry about yourself”

“I mean, is this what being dead is like?” Leo asked, sitting next to him on the basement steps “or are you still here because you were never found or–“

“I don’t fucking know, first I thought I was in hell, then I thought maybe this was it for everyone. Now I think is something about that stupid circle or whatever, I have never seen anyone else”

“Damn” Leo said,

“Yup” Gavin said drily

“No wonder you are so cranky” Leo joked because that was his nature

Gavin glared at him, Leo ignored that

“So, like, wanna go exploring?” Leo said bumping against Gavin’s shoulder “wanna go find some kids with a ouija board to mess with?”

“Are you going to be as chickenshit as you were back there?” Gavin said “Because that was fucking embarrassing”

“Uhm, Yeah” Leo said “Some of this shit is really freaky”

Gavin actually laughed, it was a gruff, low sound, almost like a bark, but Leo thought it was rather nice, he wouldn’t mind staying here, 20, 50, or 100 years if he could hear that sound often

“We going?” Leo insisted

“Sure, why not”

#dbhrarepairsweek #leo manfred #gavin reed #gavin x leo #leovin #detroit become human

[umbureraakademi]

Introductory Note About the AU & Other Chapters

-a/n start-

[Potential spoilers for anyone who hasn’t seen or finished TUA Netflix series but seriously how could you stop yourself from watching such a captivating show.]

Word Count: 1968

Face Claims & involved characters for this chapter (essentially the same as Chapter 1)

-a/n end-

The Hargreeves Case

Chapter 2

Muttering to himself, Diego sat himself down at his desk as he started arranging all the information he had on what used to be his murder case like an angry teenager told to go to his room. Chuck, sitting across from him, watched his friend in slight amusement at the less than pleased detective.

“So…” he started, with Diego not looking up from what he was doing. “You met the Captain’s new assistant.”

“Don’t get me started with that little shit.” Diego snarled. “You know she called you T’Challa? I mean he isn’t even African-American, he’s African. The actor is African-American.” at this Chuck raised an eyebrow.

“For someone who says superhero movies are bullshit you sure know your Marvel.” he said, Diego ignored him. “I’d watch the names you call her though, especially in front of the Captain, considering she’s his niece.”

At this news Diego fumbled with the folder he was arranging, all the files and unfinished paperwork of a stagnant case falling to the floor. Before picking it up he gave Chuck a wild look of disbelief saying, “S-she’s what?!”

“Uhh… the Captain’s niece? Apparently, his brother begged him to let her work here knowing he was looking for an assistant. Probably knows she’s got an attitude since he told everyone to be patient with her.” Chuck affirmed.

“Everyone? When was this announced?” Diego questioned.

“This morning at the briefing room. You might have dozed off like you usually do.” Chuck said nonchalantly.

“Ugh.” Diego sighed as he bent down to pick up his files when a pair of feet passed by and nearly stepped on one of the files he was picking up. “Hey!” he exclaimed, looking up to see that same assistant they were talking about still on her phone.

She paused but didn’t look up or turn to look at the guy who just “hey”-ed her. “Oohh sorry, are those important? Wait, I don’t care.” she said before starting to move again to wherever she was going. “If those files are so important don’t go around dropping them, Detective Dickhead.” she shouted on her way for everyone in the precinct to hear.

Diego was fuming and when he caught Chuck trying to stifle a chuckle he gave the man a death glare. Meeting those venomous eyes for a second, Chuck cleared his throat and said, “She’s quite the handful.”

“Handful doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Diego muttered as he put his files back all together. Standing up and passing by Chuck’s table he slammed the files on his desk, startling him a bit. “Your handling Morgenthau now. Captain’s orders.” he said before walking away.

“And where are you going?” Chuck called after.

“Getting coffee. Headache hasn’t gone away.” Diego responded before walking out from Chuck’s view.

- - - - - 

Stepping into the pantry Diego was greeted with the sight of the Captain’s assistant holding the carafe and looking back at it back and forth with the coffee maker like it was some advanced technology. Not saying anything, Diego folded his arms and leaned on the doorway, curious to see what she was up to.

Not noticing him by the door, the assistant motioned to the sink about to fill up the carafe with water, thinking that was how you were supposed to brew the coffee.

“You know for someone with a smart mouth you sure are a pro at brewing coffee.” Diego said sarcastically just as she had started filling up the carafe with water. Jumping at the sudden sound of someone else’s voice she nearly dropped it in the sink but the jolt splashed some water on her shirt.

“Jesus Christ! Ugh, fuck.” she exclaimed, turning off the faucet and setting the carafe down beside the sink before turning to see who had just rudely interrupted her perfect coffee making. Seeing it was the same guy who jolted her awake with door drama she rolled her eyes. “Great, it’s Detective Dickhead.”

Fighting the urge to to call her a string of nasty names, Diego instead responded with, “Are you done? I’d like to make my cup of coffee.”

“Well too bad, Detective. Because the Captain wants coffee too and I can’t figure out this piece of shit.” the assistant said with a sarcastic smile as she picked up the carafe, still semi-filled with water, and walked back to the coffee machine. “He just can’t settle for instant coffee or Starbucks.” she muttered to herself.

About to put the carafe back in the coffee machine, Diego just had to stop her before she does any damage and the whole precinct is deprived of coffee because some stupid assistant didn’t know how to use it. “Okay, wait--” he started before the assistant put her finger up.

“Ah, ah, ah.” she said. “I don’t need your help, Detective Dickhead. There’s probably a YouTube video on how to use this thing…” she continued pulling up her phone from her pocket.

“Call me Detective Dickhead one more time you little--” Diego started to seethe before being interrupted again, this time by the Captain himself.

“Monica.” Captain Lee started, standing in the doorway now next to Diego. Noticing the other man he gave a curt nod before greeting him with, “Detective.”

Clearing his throat and straightening up Diego greeted back, “Captain.”

The assistant flashed the Captain a fake sweet smile. “Uncle Gwimmy.” she said with a mocking childish tone.

Diego could see the Captain’s expression tighten as he was also fighting the urge to tell off his niece. “You will address me as Captain Lee as long as we are both in this precinct.” he said patiently, but with a slight edge.

“Whatever.” the assistant muttered in response.

“Just checking to see if you didn’t have any problems preparing that coffee I asked for 20 minutes ago.” said the Captain.

“Sorry, Captain. I sorta just got here after browsing through 10 minutes worth of looking through cute dachshund pictures on Instagram and spent another 10 minutes trying to figure out how to use this.” as she explained she held up the carafe, still so wrongly filled with water. “Because as you know I’m more of a no nonsense instant coffee or get someone else to do my coffee like someone at Starbucks kind of girl.” she finished. 

“Monica, I’m going out on a limb letting you work here at your father’s request. But if you’re going to keep up with your spoiled, entitled attitude I won’t hesitate to assign you into mopping floors instead of sitting behind a desk.” Captain Lee said as he was slowly approaching his niece, who seemed to have removed the smug look on her face and actually looked like she was shrinking.

“So while you are here working as my assistant, you will come to work dressed in proper office attire - no sneakers, no shirts of some random rock band, you can wear jeans as long as you have a collared top - address me appropriately, address my officers and my detectives appropriately, and do what I ask you to do - including, but not limited to, getting my coffee.” there was a short pause before he continued.

“I won’t have any rumors going around the precinct about how Captain Lee let some unqualified, incompetent little brat fill in as his new assistant just because she was his niece. That is an order. Are we clear, Monica?” he finished.

Swallowing on what she felt like a ball stuck in her throat, Monica replied with a meek, “Yes, Captain.”

“Good. Detective.” turning his attention back to Diego who was silently and awkwardly watching the entire thing, Captain Lee made a small request. “Perhaps you can teach my new assistant how to use the coffee maker.”

“Umm…” Diego started, he’s seen the Captain’s scary side so many times yet it’s still able to run a chill down his spine seeing it in action. “Y-yeah, yeah, sure. I’ll handle it, Captain.” he said, probably nodding his head a little too much.

“Excellent. I’ll leave the two of you to it. Remember, I like my coffee a little creamy, but not too creamy.” Captain Lee said.

“Got it, Captain.” Diego responded with an awkward smile as the Captain nodded to the both of them before leaving. There was an uncomfortable silence as Monica was avoiding Diego’s gaze after being roasted by her uncle right in front of him. “So uhh… Monica…?” he started and she looked up at him, the look in her eyes as sharp as the knives he was carrying.

“Okay, let’s get this straight. My uncle’s an ass but yeah since my dad was literally on his knees asking to put me here in the middle of all these cops I guess I owe him for at least not making me a janitor.” she said, her tone tight like she was trying to fight back angry tears. “But that doesn’t mean I have to be nice to everyone here. I’ll do my job but I won’t kiss your asses.”

No one’s asking you to kiss their ass, you’re just being a bitch. Diego thought to himself, trying not to roll his eyes out of pity. Instead he put his hands up like he was about to be arrested. “All right, well, Captain ordered me to help you with the coffee maker, so that’s what I’m going to do. First off…” approaching Monica, he took the carafe from her hands and headed to the sink. “This is not where you put the water.” he said as he poured the water out and, using a paper towel, wiped it down.

Diego ended up being the one preparing the coffee while he let Monica observe in silence, and miraculously she was actually paying attention and not looking through her phone. After filling up the right places with water and coffee beans, the machine started dripping sweet-smelling coffee thanks to him.

“That’s going to take like about 5 or so minutes to drip enough coffee for the Captain. There’s some fresh milk in the fridge with the Captain’s name on it. Mix it while you pour some in and stop when it starts becoming light brown.” he said, now leaning on the counter with the coffee machine between him and Monica.

“Thanks. Think I know what to do next time.” Monica said with a shrug. There was silence again as the two of them just stood there watching the coffee machine. “Aren’t you supposed to go back to your desk solving cases or something?” she said, unable to stand that Diego was still standing there.

“Well, if you can remember before Captain Lee walked in here to put you in your place, I wanted a cup of coffee myself.” he responded with an edge.

“Of course you do, want me to prepare yours for you as well like this precinct’s little slave, Detective?” Monica said with a scoff. “Cops…” she muttered.

“Think I can make my own coffee, thank you Monica.” Diego said, narrowing his eyes to try and tone done the iciness in his tone.

“God I hate that name but I hate you too so it’ll just be gross to tell you my nickname.” Monica grumbled, mostly to herself though since they were in close proximity Diego could still hear everything she was saying. “So, Detective since I can’t exactly call you Detective Dickhead anymore because of ‘Captain’s orders’.” as she said that she mockingly gestured quotation marks with her hands while rolling her eyes. “Guess I should get your proper name.”

His nerve ticked a bit at hearing Detective Dickhead again but he decided to digress, introducing himself instead, “Hargreeves. Detective Diego Hargreeves.” at this he could see Monica’s eyes suddenly grow wide and, if he was seeing right, she may have even paled a bit.

“H-Hargreeves?”

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves fanfic #tua #tua fanfic #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfic #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #number five #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #tua alternate universe #chuck beeman #eudora patch #diego hargreeves x oc #diego #klaus #tua diego #tua klaus #luther #tua luther #allison #tua allison #five #tua five #ben #tua ben #vanya

[aphroditestummyrolls]

San Diego, 1979

“He’s never going to hurt you again. Okay, Billy?” That’s what she said. “I promise.”

She fucking promised.

When Billy first woke up, it felt like the room was underwater. The beeping of the heart monitor, the whir of the other machines, the shouting outside the door—it was all muffled and unintelligible. His surroundings were blurry from the small amount that he could see through his aching eyes.

His brain was mushy, and he knew the feeling too well. It was a concussion. It had to be. Time was slow and languid. His limbs were weightless and tingly. He couldn’t seem to lift them and panic gripped his chest.

Something was terribly wrong.

He looked to his side and a familiar face looked back at him. She smiled at him and the tight ball of panic loosened in his chest. The events of the past week had been real. She was here and there was still hope.

It had been a week since Mom died when the Suits first showed up at their door. At first, Billy had thought that Crystal and the girls had ratted on him, that they had said what Neil did to him—or maybe they were the Police there to take him away for what he was. But, Billy was wrong—it was damn near routine. CPS was checking in, after the circumstances of Mom’s…

Well, the CPS was fucking blind and Neil was a damn good liar. They were just leaving when Agent Ramirez looked closer. Billy had hated the pity in her eyes. He hated it. He remembered the relief, though, when he finally said what he’d only ever told to the closest people in his life. He’d never told anyone like her--someone who could actually do anything to help him.

Ramirez had given him hope.

That relief was nothing—nothing—compared to the utterly helpless terror of when Neil found out what Billy had done. Even under his current haze of pain meds, Billy could still feel the throb of his muscles and stiffness in his jaw.

He remembered the deafening crack of his bones under his father’s fists.

“Ramirez?” he tried to say, only to be shocked by a spike of pain that traveled through his teeth and up his cheek, lancing through his head. The word came out in a garbled mess as he tried in vain to open his mouth.

“Billy, Billy—take it easy, don’t speak.” She placated. Her eyes were teary. “I’m so sorry, kiddo. I don’t have much time. I’m off your case.”

What ?

There it was—the only hope he had of escaping Neil, gone.

“My superiors… Your dad’s been talking to them. I’ve been accused of harassment and slander.”

Blinking only hurt the purple and red mottled swelling on his face, but Billy still forced himself to blink away the hot, shameful tears in his eyes. He was fourteen. This was no time to be a baby. He’d been stupid to think she could help him—that anyone would be able to help him.  

Through the window to the hallway, Billy could see a couple of Suits trying to assuage his dad’s Oscar-worthy performance as the slandered father and grieving widower. Billy’s heart felt like a lead weight in his chest as he finally worked out the way the world worked. No matter what he did, no matter whom he thought he could trust, Neil Hargrove would never let him go.

Billy Hargrove wanted his Mom.

The realization brought with it a startling emptiness. For a long moment, he looked back and forth between Ramirez to Neil. And then the void in him filled with a red hot rage. He burned with it. When his heart monitor sped up, he forced away the tears that so badly wanted to fall.

Agent Ramirez squeezed his hand, but Billy jolted into action to rip it away from her.

“Billy, kiddo, I can’t help you. I’m so sorry—“

The door swung open and a swarm of people-- Neil, Suits, nurses—poured in.

Neil was apoplectic, and the glare was enough to send a shiver down Billy’s spine.

“You—get your hands off my boy!” he shouted, and Billy wanted to scream, to cry, to tell the truth to anybody who would listen, anybody. He tried in vain to open his mouth, only to taste metal and blood.

Chaos was everywhere. The Suits were berating Ramirez for her lies and slander toward this “poor man.” They made up bullshit excuses about “a history of mental disorders in the boy’s mother.”

Billy was helpless.

“Billy Hargrove was beaten by his father—“  Ramirez cried.

“Billy Hargrove fell down a flight of stairs, fracturing his jaw and sustaining a concussion.” One of the Suits replied, “He’s in no state for your interrogations!”

Neil advanced on the hospital bed, making a thousand memories of pain and terror flash before his eyes. He flinched when a big hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed in a vice-like grip. He offered everyone a simpering smile, pretending to care. The anger built in Billy’s chest only continued to mount. He felt like he was going to eventually explode.

“He hasn’t been himself since his mother passed—isn’t that right, Billy?”

The hand on him promised a Hell of a lot of pain if he didn’t play along. Ramirez was shaking her head, but she didn’t understand. Billy had to do it, so, he did. He dug his nails into his fists and, with his jaw wired shut and the last of his hope destroyed, Billy gave a jerky nod. He denied the claims Agent Ramirez made and sealed his own fate.

Neil had won.

Ramirez didn’t even look at him as the hospital security led her out of the little room. All that time she’d preached to him about being “strong” and “never giving up.” And now? Here he was--too broken to speak, let alone speak the truth. Bitterness sunk its claws into Billy, and it hurt.

“You’re a fighter, Billy. You’ll be okay—“  she called back to him, but her eyes were on her shoes.

She had promised. She had promised him, and she lied. At least she was right about one thing: he was a fucking fighter. He would fight for himself, unlike any two-bit useless CPS agent, cop, or his own mother ever had.

Billy clenched his jaw and welcomed the agony as it coursed through him. He didn’t cry. He was stronger now.

NEW CHAPTER WENT UP ON AO3 LAST NIGHT! Enjoy! ❤️❤️❤️

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #lemon writes #stranger things 2 #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #harringrove fanfiction #billy redemption megafic #part 1 #keep yourself alive #i want to break free

[taesbetch]

Murderous;

Pairings: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst Murder!AU

Summary: People can be deceiving; People lie every day. When murder is the new talk of the town and everyone seems like a suspect, the truth seems to slip further and further away every second. lies, love, and murder are a dangerous mixture; Wrong things happen when you trust the wrong people.

Word Count: 6k +

TRAILER

| Next 

“A murder?”

All your attention was focused on the T.V as the crime scene of the murder was exploited by reporters.

This was the first murder in years; for a small town like yours, that seems like a massacre. You already knew the town would be in a frenzy, everyone knows everything about everyone, we don’t have murderers here.

“Don’t watch that” dad said as he snatched the remote from your hand and turned off the T.V; determined to shield your mind from the bullshit that is the media even though his job as a cop had already fully exposed you.

“Why didn’t you tell me we had a murder case?” You asked as he sat next to you with a bowl of pasta. the small dinner table being enough for your small family of two.

Your dad was the chief of police, nothing ever happens but when it does your dads all over it, often letting you in on the details.

“Our case? And I didn’t tell you because the plan was to keep it under wraps, but I guess the press had other ideas” he sighed before digging into his pasta. You sat in silence for a second before realising someone in your town had been murdered.

“Who was it?" Your dad froze for a minute before setting his dinner down on the table in front of you.

"She was a student” he said scratching the back of his head sadly as he gazed at your backpack. Immediately, your heart sank; There were only three high schools in your town yours being the biggest with 1000 students. That’s not many… Chances were you probably knew them.

“She actually, went to your school...” he stated sending shivers up your spine.

“My…who was it?” You asked quietly as your brain flicked through all the people you knew. Daehyun? Do you know her?” He asked as your heart skipped a beat.

Hell yer you knew her. You asked her for a pencil every day without failure in chemistry. You didn't know her like a best friend, but you knew her enough to mourn her death.

You dad patted your back apologetically as he turned on the TV, so you could hear the details as he knew you would ask. Daehyuns body had been hung above her house, her arms stretched out and tied like Jesus. Your body shuddered at the thought of coming home to find your child hung above your home, murdered and out for the world to see.

Currently, there was no motive to her killing. But there must be one, there’s always a motive behind a kill…you just couldn’t wrap your head around why daehyun? You already knew the questions your dad was going to ask. But no, daehyun didn’t have any enemies, no, daehyun wouldn’t have had anyone who would want to hurt her.

You would have said this was a random killing…but this was way too precise. they knew where she lived, they took the time to hang her by her arms…

“Stop thinking about it and go to bed, you have school tomorrow” your dad said as he pushed you lightly towards the staircase.

You sighed before running upstairs towards your bedroom. Not being able to shake the questions you had asked yourself you pondered the answers. Who the hell would want to kill daehyun, why would any more have any reason to kill daehyun.

the next morning everyone in school was talking about it, which was expected. As you closed your locker you sighed deeply knowing everyone would ask you if your dad had figured it out yet, which obviously he hadn’t.

“Hey Y/N” as you turned around your best friend Hana stood there with dark circles surrounding her eyes. Fuck, you forgot. Hana and daehyun had 4 classes together and have known each other since 5th grade.

“Hana…I’m sorry” you whispered as she wiped her tears. “that’s alright, so…I know this is a dumb question but…do they know anything yet?” she asked as the two of you started to walk to homeroom.

“I think you know the answer” you answered softly as you both entered the room. the air was tense, and everyone was whispering amongst themselves.

you were positive theories of who did it were wandering around the school. 100% of them were wrong of course but that doesn’t mean they aren’t interesting.

“did you hear about the new kid? apparently, he was the last person to see daehyun” Angel whispered as she tried to get as much of the attention of the people surrounding her.

“yer but daehyun was the school’s student guidance leader, it was her job to show new kids around, doesn’t mean he killed her” Lucifer commented before rolling his eyes and focusing back to his book.

“would you guys know anyone who would have anything against daehyun? like maybe from outside school?” you asked curiously, stopping the two of them bickering.

both Angel and Lucifer were very involved in the school counsel, they knew Daehyun well as most of the school leaders like to socialise amongst themselves.

“No one, not even that stalker kid from Fathom high. After he got rejected he went on this big rant about how we St Damon kids think we're better than them, it was quite entertaining actually” Lucifer laughed.

You rolled your eyes but cracked a smile as your friend laughed along with him.

Possible suspect: kid from Fathom Motive: Rejection and judgement?  Is that a strong enough motive though? As classes kept going you tried to come up with any reason at all to why someone would kill daehyun. It just doesn’t make any sense…there’s no motive behind this killing, no suspect and the strangest part, no build up.

usually, killings have some sort of build up towards the murder, a family member or friend has been acting strange lately, someone in town had been showing signs of trouble…but no, the town had been quiet, not even the usual thievery of shops…everything was almost…perfect.

Theories kept swirling around the school about who could have killed daehyun, one of the most popular theories is that it was the new boy. you hadn’t seen the new boy yet, you had only heard rumours.

Apparently, he had eyes as cold and ice and as dark at the night sky, he was tall and slim and held a non-bothered facial expression on his face for the majority of the time.

You made a mental note to try and talk to Daehyuns best friend before packing up your stuff and heading out for lunch.

you and some other kids were assigned to help in the cafeteria so the bunch of you got to leave class early.

the hallways were completely empty as you shoved books into your locker, but you couldn’t help but hear the small sounds of footsteps down the other end of the hall.

you stopped what you were doing as your eyes glazed over to the entrance of it, the footsteps were getting louder and louder, but it couldn’t have been a cafeteria kid, all their lockers were on the other end of the school.

As you waited to possibly get yelled at by a teacher for not being in class even though you have a valid excuse for not being there, a student walked through. his bag was slung on his shoulder and his hair was messed up. he was tall yet slim…and his facial expression held a non-bothersome look.

as he walked down the hallway you both stared each other down. He didn’t look like a murder, but then again, they never do.

“Are you the new kid?” you asked as you shut your locker.

“Why do you care? didn’t I kill that girl” he asked coldly as his eyes kept forward and he kept walking on.

You stood there and stared at his back as he walked away from you…interesting response.

you guessed if you were him you would be sick of the rumours as well, but if he did it is still a possibility. you walked to the cafeteria to start your duty when you were met with the same cold eyes that passed you in the hallway. he gave you a brief glance before continuing to talk to the teacher he was talking to.

As he worked away at the dishes you observed his movements and behaviour.

Psycho? no. closed off? yes.

dangerous? no. mysterious? yes.

sinister? no. Cold? yes.

it couldn’t be him, not just based off that but the boy looked more like a hugger than a mugger. He was around the same size as daehyun as well considering weight and width, she worked out a lot, so she could have physically over powered him.

There’s no motive for her to be killed by him other than the fact that she may be a little too happy for his taste. You concluded that it couldn’t be the new boy, however, unless this boy leaves town tonight the police and the rest of the town probably won’t come to that conclusion…and if the whole town suspects it’s him it won’t be hard for the murderer to pin it on him either…  

As the lunch hall filled up with hungry students, you washed your hands before rushing out to find Kayla, Daehyuns best friend.

running through crowds of people was extremely tiring but it was for a good cause, so you kept at it.

No one had seen Kayla since second period, but you knew her only way home was on the bus, so she had to be here somewhere. as you ran past the bathrooms you heard soft sobbing which led you to halt. slowly you opened the bathroom door, making sure not to startle the crying student.

"Hello? “you asked as you walked into the bathroom.

"sorry, I didn’t mean to be crying all day” Kayla said sheepishly as she came into view, wiping her tears rapidly.

your heart broke a little as you watched her fall apart. “Kayla no one blames you for crying” you said softly as you passed her some tissue.

she gave you a small smile before staring at her reflection in the mirror. “I saw him this morning…” she said angrily as her knuckles clenched together.

"the new kid? “you asked as she nodded her head.

"Taehyung…that’s his name” she whispered softly as her fists unclenched and sadness replaced anger.

“do you think he did it...?” you asked hesitantly.

she removed a strand of her brown hair from her eyes before shaking her head. before you could say anything, she burst out into sobs again.

"I wish he did! I wish it was him, that way we could lock him up and it would be over…a stranger would have killed her…but…the thought of someone we know…the thought of a friend killing her… “she said before crying again.

you furrowed your brows as you watched the girl cry.

"Why would it have been someone you know?” you asked curiously. sure, the town was small but not that small.

"Daehyun went to school and then went back home…that was it. she left when everyone left, she came when everyone came. The only way she would ever even consider going outside her house is if someone she knew asked her to" Kayla cried.

well, this narrows it down…

“and there’s no one you can think of, no one at all that would get anything from hurting Daehyun” you asked in a low voice.

Kayla went looked as if she wanted to say something but ended up refraining from it. she shook her head before grabbing her bag from the floor.

"I don’t know who it was, or who would want to hurt her…But I can tell you that I’m positive it wasn’t Taehyung" she said sadly before exiting the bathroom.

you stood there for a minute as you analysed the information. it was someone she knew…and not just roughly knew, knew well enough to go out with…but that’s still half the school plus people outside of school.

As the bell rang you and you ran out of the gates of the school, you ignored the buzzes your phone was sending up your leg as your best friend rang you for the fifteenth time.

you were on a mission to find Taehyung.

Usually, you would stay out of cases, observe from a far. But this one hit too close to home and you were not going to let an innocent man fall for someone else’s crime.

“Hey! Taehyung! wait up!” you yelled after him as you ran down the street. he glanced behind himself before rolling his eyes and starting to run.

As he picked up his pace, you did too until he turned the corner into a back alleyway.

you knew he was just trying to scare you into leaving him alone, but you knew this town like the back of your hand. as you turned the corner he grabbed your shoulders and pushed you up against the wall harshly.

“Leave me alone! I already get enough shit; don’t you have anything better to do!” he exclaimed angrily.

but instead of anger, all you saw was someone who was tired and sad.

"I don’t think you did it! “you said as you swatted his hands away, cutting the bullshit and getting straight to the point.

He looked at you confused as there was a moment of silence between the two of you. the only thing you could hear was the both of you trying to catch your breath. His eyes scanned the side to watch for other people walking by as he moved closer to you.

"how do you know I didn’t?” he asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well did you?” you asked him causing him to relax his tension.

“no…no I didn’t,” he said as his eyes filled with hope and desperation “I swear to God, I didn’t kill her” he sighed.

you stared at him intensely as he waited for your response.

"then I’m going to help you. If we’re going to prove your innocence we need to find a suspect…and we need to find one fast"

---

Your dad flipped through files as you both sat at the dinner table. your eyes flickered to your phone every know and then to see if taehyung had sent you a text yet.

"Dad, did you get a suspect?" You asked as he sighed deeply.

"We thought it could be the best friend, or maybe someone on the student council that was jealous of her, we even checked that creepy kid from fathom. Everyone's allies check out...everyone except that new boy, Taehyung" he answered.

You stopped eating as you nodded for him to continue.

"He said he was at home preparing for the next day at school, which seems perfectly logical to me. You're the new kid, it's a new school, you just had your first day and want to be ready for the next." Dad shrugged.

"Then what’s the problem?" You asked as he shuffled through his files again.

"He lives alone, there's no one to confirm his statement" dad sighed sadly.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before you spoke.

"Do you think he did it?" You asked curiously as you played with your food.

He stared at his files before slowly shaking his head.

"It wouldn't make sense" he commented as he crossed his arms in deep thought.

"That's what I said!" You stated excitedly as you jumped up a little.

Dad narrowed his eyes at me causing you too shrink back into your seat.

"Remember, don't get involved" he said in a singish tune.

"Dad i know...its just, the boy is new and he's already being shunned" you said causing his dad stance to soften.

"This is why i tell everyone that we should keep it under wraps, so shit like this doesn't happen" he sighed as he shook his head.

you nodded in agreement as you continued eating my food.

"Why does he live alone?" You asked yourself more than you asked your dad.

"Not sure, the boys a complete mystery...and that’s not going to sit well with the town" you dad said as he cleaned up his files, standing from his seat.

"But just because someone lives alone and likes to keep private doesn't mean they're a murderer" you stated as you took your dish and his too the sink.

"Not in this town" you dad sighed as he kissed your forehead "goodnight, remember that i won't be home till late tomorrow so lock up" he said as he walked away.

"Ok!" You shouted out as you washed the dishes.

You finished washing up before skipping upstairs to your bedroom.

As you opened the door you realised how dark your room was. You swore you had left the light on but shrugged it off as you close the door.

You flicked the light on and turned towards your bed only to be surprised by Taehyung standing in front of you wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants.

Before you could scream, he placed his hand over your mouth as you were pushed up against the wall...again.

As you realised who it was you pushed him off of you.

"What the fuck are you doing here?! How did you even get in?!" You whisper yelled as you pushed him further into your room before subtly checking if your dad's door was closed.

"We're going to prove my innocence remember? And the back door was open" he stated innocently as he started pacing back and forth in your room.

"You can't be sneaking into people’s houses, that doesn't necessarily help your case" you stated as he sat on your bed.

"I know, i know, im just...im freaking out ok? I've never been to jail, what if the murder manages to pin it on me! no one knows me here, no one will defend me" he said quickly as his eyes were glued to the floor in a worried daze.

"hey! calm down, i have an idea" you said pulling your desk chair in front of him and sitting down.

"A plan?" He asked as hope sparked in his eyes.

"My dad’s the chief of police, so i have access to the progression of the case. But im one-hundred percent positive that in the next couple of weeks you'll be painted as the killer and the police will have you as their top suspect" you stated.

He sighed deeply before you continued.

"So firstly, you need to change your image" you say sternly as he placed his hand in his hoodie pockets.

"My image? What do you mean?" He asked as he looked up at you with wide eyes.

"Look the first thing the police will do is ask the school about your behaviour. Your teachers, your peers, random kids. Anyone." You started.

"Right now, you're acting like a murderer. You're shut off, your cold and most importantly, your new" you said as he nodded his head paying full attention.

"But...i really don't like people" he sighed in frustration.

"No one does, you have to fake it. Start paying attention in class, put your hand up, talk to students" you said as he flung himself backwards to lay on your bed.

"What if it doesn't work?" He whispered worriedly.

"Your decent looking and people are already interested in you, trust me, it will work" you said as you stood from your chair.

" you can’t wear those ripped up hoodies anymore either ok" you said as you walked over to your desk.

"I only have ripped up hoodies and i have no money so what am i gonna do?" He asked as he returned to his sitting upwards position.

"Its ok, you can borrow my brother's old clothes" you stated as you checked the time.

"You have a brother?" He asked curiously as he stood up.

"Yes, now take the clothes and go, there in the room next to mine, also meet me outside the school gate tomorrow, I’ll help you with your image changing" you said as you shoved him towards the door.

"Hey....." he said as he turned to face you, stopping you from opening the door.

"Thank you" he whispered before letting you open the door and leaving your room.

You sighed and shook your head before deciding to go to bed. You had a long week ahead of you... so much work is going to have to be done.

When you spotted taehyung at the gates of your school the next morning, you had too do a double take.

Firstly, he looked completely different. Secondly...he looked insanely good, getting the attention you needed to alter his image was not going to be a problem.

"How do i look?" He asked tugging on the sleeves of his button-up shirt.

"Like the neighborhood good boy who should be on the school council" you said as you looked him up and down. People from all angles couldn’t take their eyes of the newborn taehyung.

"Is that good?" He asked as the two of you started walking into school grounds.

"Very, now for practice. What do you say when someone calls you a murderer?" You asked as you moved through the mildly empty halls.

"Fuck off, i didn't do shit"

"No"

"I’m sorry that you feel that way, but i didn't do anything"

"Better"

"I hate this already" he groaned angrily as he shoved his hands in his pants pockets and replaced his fakish smile with his usual frown.

"It’s gonna be a long day, get ready" you sighed as you watched the number of students entering the hell hole increase.

----

To say Taehyung was doing good would be an understatement. At first your friends were confused as to why you were hanging out with him, but once he started talking and joking around, they were in love.

The teachers appreciated his class input even though half the time he was wrong, they liked that he tried.

He was actually a chick magnet. You already knew how to up his reputation, rumours. You may have told a friend of yours that taehyung was the love child of a prince and his dad sent him here to keep him undercover...and you may have said this in front of the school's most notorious rumour spreading hoe, Bethany.

Opps...

Taehyungs reputation had done a full 180 and it wasn't even third period yet.

"Taehyung! Do you think you could stay behind after school and help me with my math?" Lisa asked as she approached the two of you with a nervous jisoo.

"I’m sorry, i might have plans, but if i don't ill text you. Write your number here and ill put it in my phone later" he said before winking at her. Vomit tried to crawl its way up your throat at his fuckboi antics, but you managed to keep it down.

As you grabbed books from your locker you refrained from rolling your eyes as a pink blush covered her face.

"okay, bye taehyung" she said before giggling and skipping off with jisoo.

"Bye Taehyung" you mimicked as you closed your locker angrily. He laughed before poking your arm playfully.

"You jealous?" He asked as a smirk graced his face.

"I said nice neighborhood boy, not fuck boy" you said rolling your eyes at his new-found confidence. You were convinced that by the end of the day your eyes would be permanently stuck from the amount of eye rolling you’ve been doing.

"You think I enjoy this? You and I both know I’d rather be sitting at the back, alone" he said as he fixed his hair.

"Whatever, just meet me at my house after school okay" you said. He nodded before the two of you parted ways to get to your next class.

As you sat in your last class of the day, your eyes kept flicking towards the clock.

"Oi"

You faced forward to see Hana turned around towards you. shit. You totally forgot about your best friend of all time and her fifth teen missed calls.

"Where the fuck has you been" she asked.

"I know, I'm so sorry but i promise its important" you stated as she swivelled around in her seat more to see you.

As Lucifer, your desk buddy examined your answers.

"Y/N your punctuation is appalling. Your sentences are filled with comma splices! You can fix that with a semi-colon, a full stop or even a freaking conjunction" lucifer ranted causing you and Hana too both grunt.

"Lucifer why do you even care, don't you want to stay the top of the year level?" Hana asked causing Lucifer to roll his eyes.

"Of course, I do, but that doesn't mean I want my friends to be the bottom of the year level" he said flicking your forehead.

"Anyway, that new kid seems pretty cool, I always knew he didn't seem like the murdering type" Lucifer stated as he passed you your book back.

"I didn't think so either, I'm glad that people are finally seeing him for who he really is" Hana chirped as you nodded your head happily.

hahaha yer sure thing.

you were about to say something but the sight of Jimin hastily packing up his books caught your eye.

"hey Jimin, you alright?" you asked with concern as he almost tripped over his own feet.

"Yep, fine, thanks" he said quickly before running out of the classroom.

"what’s up with him?" you asked as you turned back to Hana and Lucifer.

"didn't you hear?"

of fucking course, Angel would know. you watched Lucifer roll his eyes before all three of you turned toward her. of course, she was listening to your conversation. you hate when she sits behind you.

"he's apparently gay" she whispered leaning forward over her desk as if the topic was taboo.

"And?" Lucifer asked as we all stared at her in confusion "what does that have to do with him rushing out in a panic?" he asked.

"I'm just saying, his parents are pastors, don't you think it's...kinda of disgraceful?" she asked with a duh-tone.

"what the fuck? what do you mean disgraceful?" you asked as you and Lucifer turned your bodies around to fully face her. this bitch was starting to get on everyone's nerves.

"As Christians...it's in the bible" she stated as she shook her head "I’m basically sinning by breathing the same air as him" she said shaking her head "and don't get me started on his lesbian best friend, she's so proud it sickens me" she stated.

you were in shock. you knew Angel was a certified good girl, but you actually thought she was kind of alright. Before the three of you could go off on her homophobic ass the bell rang, saving her from humiliation.

as she skipped away you packed your books up in anger.

"and she wonders why people hate Christians, God, I'm a Christian and I hate Christians. Its bitches like her that give us a bad name" Hana said as she joined the angry shoving books in bag club.

"homophobic bitch" lucifer said before getting up and walking out.

You shook it off before walking out the classroom to head towards home when you were stopped.

"Y/N, could you come in here for a second"

Fuck. Mr Kim.

He was a great math teacher, but he had a tendency to get too involved in other students lives.

"Okay" you smiled as you pulled out your phone to text taehyung.

'I'll be late, Mr Kim wants to talk to me'

"Y/N are you okay, I've been worried about you lately" he stated as you both sat down.

Here we go

"Sir I swear I'm fine" you stated as you eyed the clock.

3:10

"It's just that, usually your very vocal in my classes but lately you've been...quiet. I know you’re not the smartest kid in the class, but you usually try extremely hard and I was just wondering if everything was okay at home? Considering it's just you and your father now I figured it must be hard for you" he asked as he looked down at you with concern.

"Thank you for your concern sir, but I swear there's nothing going on. My home life is fine and my dad is more than capable of raising me on his own" you stated through gritted teeth.

Your mum was a little bit of a touchy subject and yes, he was your teacher but he had no right to pry.

3:15

"No, i didn't mea-"

"I know you didn't, but sir if you don't mind i would like to go home now" you said as you stood up with your bag.

"...ill see you tomorrow" he said before gesturing towards the door.

As soon as you stepped out of the classroom and checked my phone you saw 7 missed calls from Taehyung.

You're dropped as your eyebrows knitted together in worry. What happened? Why did he call you seven times?

As you were about to call him, the caller screen popped up with his name on it. You answered the phone quickly as you moved away from the classroom you were previously in.

"Taehyung what’s wrong?" You asked at almost lightning speed, your body buzzing with panic.

All you heard on the other end was extremely heavy breathing.

"I-i-i-its on my hands, i c-cant l-leave" he breathed heavily.

You picked up your speed as you ran through the school.

"What? What do you mean? Where are you?!" You asked worriedly as your heartbeat picked up.

"Music room, in the music room" he blurted out.

You made a sharp turn as you sprinted towards the music room.

As you approach the sliding door, you slid it open harshly.

On the floor was a boy from a lower grade his throat was slit, and a pool of blood lay around him.

Taehyung was kneeling near the boy’s head, red blood was dripping from his hands as his eyes were fixated on the cut.

You gasped as you quickly closed the door of the music room.

"What happened?!" You shouted as you gagged repeatedly, the boy’s eyes were wide as they stared at the ceiling, the life that were once there long gone and replaced with two black holes.

"Taehyung what the fuck!" You shouted at him as he moved away from the boy shaking his head. He was trembling and clearly afraid, but you couldn’t shake the uneasiness of the situation.

"I didn't do anything i swear! I know how this looks but you texted me saying you were still here so i thought I’d just wait for you! I was wondering around when i heard noise in the music room, i came in and the boy was bleeding from his neck! I-i-i tried to stop it with that cloth, b-but it didn't work!!" He exclaimed back as you paced back and forth in shock.

This was not good, this was really not good. Not only was a child dead but taehyung, an already suspected murder was

The boys pasty skin colour was such a contrast to the red oozing out of it, getting distracted your forehead was breaking out in sweat and your heart was pumping too loud for your head to think clearly.

"Okay! Okay! you can't be here, you need to go to my house and stay there, we need an alibi.... okay, okay i got it. Our story is you were at my house and I was going to meet you there to study, Mr Kim wanted to talk to me so you went ahead, I was walking out when I heard something from the music room and that's when I found the body" you explained as you pacing sped up.

"But will they believe that?! Y/N I’m a possible prime suspect and now we have another murder" he said as he tried to wipe the blood off of his hands with his hoodie.

".... your right...we need another person..." you said before wiping out your phone.

"Y/N who are you calling?" He asked worriedly, almost as if he was considering stopping.

"Hello?"

"Hana, do you trust me?" You asked as your heart sped up, you knew she was a great best friend and would do anything for you, but this might be pushing it.

"Of course, I trust you" she answered instantly.

"Great, I need you to go to my house, Taehyung will be there and will explain the whole thing, just.... please go along with the story and I’ll explain later" you said before hanging up the phone.

You took a deep breath as adrenaline was rushing through your body.

3:30

"Now go quickly!" You said as taehyung grabbed his stuff.

He ran out the door quickly as you dialled 911.

"MR KIM! MR KIM HELP!" you yelled as you ran towards his classroom, still on the phone.

"911, what’s your emergency"

"THERE'S BEEN A MURDER AT ST MARYBOUGHS HIGH" you shouted both at the 911 reception and at your teacher.

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

"Could you just repeat the story one more time?"

"I was going home to meet up with some friends when mr kim called me into his classroom, after i finished talking to him i remember i forgot my book in my English room, when i had got it i noticed the music room door was open and went to check it out" you repeated as you were sat on a bench outside the school.

"And who were you going home to meet?" He asked

"Kim Taehyung and Jung Hana" you answered as you wiped your tears with the tissues they had given you.

The image of the deceased boy still fresh in your mind.

"Kim taehyung?" He asked curiously as you nodded.

"You can go home Y/N im sure your friends are curious to where you've been" he said sending you on your way.

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

As you opened the door to your house, you could hear a hushed conversation in the lounge.

As you turned the corner you saw taehyung sitting on the couch with his head in his hands (cleaned of the blood) and Hana standing near the T.v

As soon as she saw you her arms crossed against her chest.

"So, the reason why you haven't been around is that you and him are on a secret mission to prove his innocence and find the real killer" she stated.

You and taehyung looked at each before nodding your head hesitantly.

There was a moment of silence as she looked between the two of you, her lip drawn between her teeth as she contemplated the situation. You knew your best friend like the back of your hand… but this? You had no idea how she would react to this.

"Alright...I’m in" she shrugged nonchalantly.

You looked at her in shock as taehyung nodded happily.

"It might get dangerous" you warned as you sat next to taehyung, not exactly loving the idea of her joining the hunt.

"If you're doing it, I’m doing it and plus, you already have me lying to the authorities" she smirked.

You smiled and shook your head at your best friend. Well, you know what they say, The more the merrier.

 Sometimes its seems that the louder someone claims sainthood, the bigger the horns they are hiding -Steve maraboli 

#kim taehyung #taehyung bts #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung murder au #bts murder au #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook #jimin #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #bts hoseok #bts stories #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan fiction #kim taehyung scenarios #v fanfiction #bts v fanfiction #kpop murder au #bts v murder au #bts kim taehyung fanfic #yandere #bts yandere #not really though

[knivesnkisses]

THE JAY THIRST IS REAL, MAN. BLAME @collected-soul.

Warning for mentions of past abuse and well. Jay.

Sabrina had gone for a walk to clear her head.

But all it was doing was making her angry and uneasy. As she tromped through the autumn underbrush, kicking up decaying leaves and wet dirt, she growled furiously at herself.

Her piece of shit dad somehow got her new address and violated the restraining order against him. When he showed up on her porch, drunk and belligerent, she's ashamed to admit fear ran down her spine, rooting her in the doorway. The stench of alcohol was thick on his breath as he tried to feed her some bullshit sob story, begging her to let him in so he could ‘apologize’. The second he tried push past her, his grip heavy on her shoulder, was when her self-preservation finally booted up and shoved him hard, his ungainly drunken ass sprawled out on the walkway.

While he say there stunned, Sabrina had quickly slammed the door, snagged the baseball bat from her hall closet, and dialed the police. In the process, the bastard managed to get back on his feet to bang furiously at her door and scream at her.

'LET ME IN, BRAT.’ 

When Hell freezes over. 

'IM YOUR FATHER AND YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME.’

Like that had ever swayed me before.

'WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR SISTER.’

Safe with our uncle, away from you. 

Dispatch had heard everything and with her previous complaints against him, police were at her home. Soon enough, her childhood monster was in cuffs and crammed into the back of a cruiser. Some short statements later, the cops drove off and Sabrina was alone again. But she wasn’t calm.

Which leads back to what she was currently doing. The crisp air was supposed to numb her worries, the aimlessness of her route meant to let her brain rest. Instead, she was still jittery and now also lost, the woods behind her neighborhood far deeper and more dense than she had first assumed. And there was that damned sensation of eyes on her, which she thought was frankly ridiculous. All that was out with her were the birds. Shaking her head to try and dispel the paranoia, she goes to take a step in the direction she thinks her home is in, and promptly trips.

She yelps as she goes down, chin catching the ground, making her teeth clack together painfully. Pushing herself up, she found one of her boot laces had come undone and huffs out a breath of annoyance. She's lucky she didn’t bite down on her tongue or chomped down on her piercing. Hunching over to tie the boot back up, she missed the shadow bearing down on her until its hands were around her neck.

She thrashes underneath the things weight, nails digging into her assailants wrists until she breaks skin. Her eyes shoot up to see what exactly is doing this and startles. It’s a man, or rather she assumes it’s a man. Theres an oversized mask covering his features, messy beaded hair hanging around her face like a curtain. All she can see clearly are his eyes, green and bright with… joy? He chirps out a noise and Sabrina almost wants to laugh, if she could. She’d survived 20 years of abuse from a raging drunkard and she's going to die here at the hands of some hobo bird man. As her lungs struggle to take in air and her vision blackens at the edges, her last coherent thought is that life’s a cruel bitch with a terrible sense of humor.

When her body goes limp, chest heaving shallow breaths, the man hefts her dead weight into his arms, and presses her securely against his chest. A new Pretty for his collection, and she has so many of her own shinies! Hoops and studs and a tiny glint of silver against the pink of her tongue. The beak of his mask nuzzles her temple. He knows she’ll fit in with the rest of his baubles.

She’s going to be his crowning jewel.

#Ash writes. #Hope I portrayed him well enough! #jay mills #collected-soul

[inkedsevans]

sunny-side up surprise. | solo*

WHO: sam evans & stacy evans (mentions of others)

WHAT: an early morning drop-in, with a side of pumpkin pancakes. 

WHEN: 11/5; early morning

WHERE: the double c diner

WARNINGS: (mentions of alcoholism) WC: 2010

He was startled awake by a pillow to the face and the sound of a voice that was very much not his father’s.

“I’m hungry and we’re out of eggs.”

Groggily, Sam opened his eyes to find a familiar dark pair peering down at him and he groaned. It was way too early for his sister, in time of the morning and otherwise. Last they’d spoken she was still at school, caught up in the rapidly approaching end of another grad school semester and wasn’t due for a visit until Thanksgiving time, but there she was, hovering over him, looking ready to snatch another pillow from the bed to pelt him with.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” he asked around a large yawn. It didn’t stop him from getting up, though not without some drama, groaning even louder and pushing a hand through haphazard blond locks as he sat on the edge of the bed, feeling cold but fully awake.

Stacy looked far too chipper for the hour, greeting him with a cheery smile and a cheek pinch that he waved off with a grumble, growing louder at the sound of her laughter.

“I have a light week; mostly papers due and figured it was as good a time as any for a trip home. Check on things…and you.” She glanced down at Sam, brown eyes searching for a moment before asking “Were you going to tell me what really happened with the kitchen, or…?”

Their last phone call, he’d only glossed over the details surrounding the fire, not wanting her to worry about things, with her plate already filled with school. He merely reassured her the damage wasn’t extensive and he was working out a deal with Puck for repairs, but Sam was certain seeing it in person was kind of jarring.

With a sigh, he scrambled to his feet and eased past his little sister’s questioning look. “Come on. We’ll go to the Double C for breakfast.”

Several minutes and a hot shower later, Sam was feeling energetic, and grateful to see his sister. Stacy, with her dry humor and sharp tongue, always quick with a joke was a sight for sore eyes, a welcome reprieve from the chaotic energy of the past few weeks, and the pair fell in-step with each other as if no time had passed between when they were last together.

They walked to the diner, moving briskly down the sidewalk, making the trek in the chilly Maine morning, one they made so many times before. When they’d grown tired of mornings filled with cold cereal and colder sadness of the house, they would make their way to the cozy atmosphere that the diner offered, a home away from home and a break away from their own. The picture they made, comforting in its familiarity. The Evans kids, the quiet blond and the chatty one with the auburn curls.  

Luckily, their favorite booth was empty, and Sam slid in on one side, bouncing against the plastic vinyl that covered the seat and tugging the beanie from his head, fingers raking through his hair. There was no need to reach for the menu, he knew the damn thing by heart.

“Ugh, they still have the pumpkin pancakes with cinnamon butter” Stacy remarked fondly, clutching the plastic menu to her chest in a way that made Sam snort with laughter.

“Don’t lie, that’s the only reason you’re back.”

Slim shoulders raised in a shrug and she didn’t even bother to hide her grin. “More or less. But I guess I’m happy to see you, too.”

The waitress stopped by with coffee and to take their orders and Sam frowned only slightly when he realized Tina wasn’t there, but reasoned it was still pretty early and she most likely had a later shift. He hadn’t seen her since Halloween, and with all the weirdness he’d wanted to check on her. On all of them, really. Everyone had been quiet, no doubt trying to bounce back from the admittedly cruel trick that still made Sam incredibly uneasy…and annoyed.

He hadn’t realized he’d zoned out in his thoughts until he felt the sugar packet smack the side of his face, and he turned to find Stacy with yet another questioning look.

“What’s going on with you?”

It was his turn to shrug and he busied himself with adding cream and sugar to his coffee, distracted by the soft clink of the spoon knocking gently against the porcelain cup as he stirred. “Been a really weird week.”

“It’s only Monday.”

Sam fixed her with a blank look. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. Did something happen? Is it Dad?” The worry in her tone made his stomach tighten with uneasiness and briefly Sam wondered if that’s what really brought Stacy from her life at college and back into sinking, quiet, cold.

James had, for the most part, been fine…as much as Sam could tell. If he wasn’t at the bar, he was in his room and Sam had barely seen him. But nothing more had been set aflame and there were no new whispers of his father’s drunken exploits around town, so Sam assumed he was going through one of his sober-ish spells.

These were also familiar, and somehow more grating than when he was on a full-blown bender or completely dry. It was as if he would retreat even further, and without the crutch of alcohol he just seemed to simply perform life like a robot would, a shell of a functioning person. Aware, but willfully obtuse. There but not there.

It brought out a frustrated kind of fury in Sam, it always had. Remembering the times that Stacy, so happy to see him out and about and not under some whiskey cloud, would talk excitedly, trying to engage him in conversations about her day, rambling in her sweet way only to be met with an errant nod or stray mumble while James washed dishes or watched tv, leaving a look of hurt on his youngest child’s face and anger in his eldest.

And Sam wasn’t sure if talking with Hunter about the other’s own struggles with drinking was helping, though perhaps it was a little easier to understand his friend than his own father, where the well of sympathy and understanding had long gone dry, replaced by a resigned sort of resentment and rage that festered quietly within him. 

With a slow exhale, Sam lifted the cup and took a small sip of the coffee, immediately soothed by the heat and the smooth blend of the roast and shook his head. “It’s not. He’s in one of his moods, but that’s nothing new. Just a lot of stuff’s been happening around town.”

“Rachel’s still missing, isn’t she? I went to the pharmacy to pick up Dad’s prescription and Ms. Sullivan gave me the rundown. They had somebody in custody, and they let him go?”

It didn’t surprise him that Stacy kept up with the news in Castleport, nor that her first stop had been for their father, confirming that this was one of her ‘bad feelings’ trips. Or that Ms. Sullivan would be in the know.

“Yeah. The guy was a stalker. Real creep shit. I don’t know what’s going on, but I think he might’ve hurt her. The homecoming stuff was never solved, but the cops thought it was Hunter and Sugar, it was really messed up. The whole town’s been buzzing with all this bullshit. And then I get this invite to a Halloween party at Castle House that turns into a scavenger hunt and somehow ends up with my old classmates finding out all this fucked up shit about each other. So now they all know about Sloane.”

Stacy arched a brow, surprise etched in pretty features, though whatever she’d been about to say was paused once the waitress returned with their plates. Sam’s crisis was put on hold long enough for her to savor the pumpkin pancakes though he’d barely made a dent in his hash browns when she was back with choice words.

“Huh. Seems like I’ve really missed a lot.”

“That’s a good thing,” Sam replied. “You’ve got school. One of us has got to be the respectable Evans, and it’s clearly not gonna be the delinquent divorcé.”

The pair grinned at that and she tossed another sugar packet at him for good measure. The quiet, save for the plink of utensils scraping plates and the music playing softly throughout the diner was nice, and Sam savored the moments of peace with his sister, though he barely bit back a groan at her next question.

“So how’d Mercedes take it?”

He didn’t want to think about that, but Stacy was giving him that expectant eyebrow arch again and he knew she would keep asking until she got her answer. “She’s pissed. Can’t say I get why, though.”

Stacy rolled her eyes, completely unconvinced. “Okay, Samuel.”

“Alright, Anastasia.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You’re such a pain in the ass. Does your other girlfriend know about your ex-wife too? I’m sure Sugar’s got a lot to say about that.”

The ‘girlfriend’ of it all made him wince and Sam fixed her with another sharp glare. “You know what, how about we focus on you for a little bit. What about that IT nerd you were talking to?”

“Why when yours is way more fun,” Stacy dismissed with a wave of her hand and a bite of pancake. “Besides, Teddy just fixed my laptop when it crapped out on me. I’ve been talking to someone else who’s really cool but I won’t say much more about her because I don’t want to jinx it. Ask me more at Thanksgiving.”

It was nice, seeing his sister excited about more than just textbooks and her psychology journals so he simply offered her a smile and nodded. “Sure. But switch the subject, nosy.”

“Fine. We can talk about Thanksgiving. I think we should have it here, with Dad. I like staying with you in Boston too, but you’re here a lot now, maybe more if you really do open the shop. And I’m tired of alternating my time between you and him. So we should all spend it together.”

It seemed like the simplest of requests, an obvious one at that, and yet he was still caught off guard. And the knee-jerk reaction was to shut it all down, but he realized just how stubborn and unfair that would be to Stacy, who tried so hard to play the peacemaker role that Sam had long abandoned.

But she made the case for it, he was home more and even with all the weirdness happening in the small town, and the recent bomb drop of his ex-wife, it hadn’t deterred his plans to make his tattoo shop a reality. More than ever, the idea of carving out his own space in Castleport appealed to him. To make new, better memories in place of the ones that hampered him regularly.

“I’ll think about it, okay? I’ve still gotta get back to work and take care of shit in Boston, though.”

That seemed to appease his sister and she offered him a bright grin. “Good. I’ll be here for a few days so you’ll have plenty of time to think it over. In the meantime, we need to hit up Blue Brick after this. I’m craving a good donut.”

Sam shook his head, his laughter incredulous as he pointed to her completely empty plate. “You just took down a short stack of pancakes and now you want donuts?”

“Relax, we’ll burn it all off with walking. You’ll still have your perfect figure, pretty boy.” Her giggle grew when the sugar packet smacked her upside the head and Sam had to duck one of his own, and the warm feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach as they wiled away the better part of an hour inside the cozy warmth of the diner, savoring the familiar peace of it all.

#para.all #para.solo #para004 #feat.stacy evans

[your-kpopmama]

BANGTAN - Part One

The city was quiet for this time of night. The summer breeze flowing gently between the tall buildings that your walked between with Jin. He had given up on trying to keep a conversation going with you since the only responses he earned from you were hums of disinterest. Nerves on edge, you scanned the empty alleyway with keen eyes. You had five people coming in tonigh. Five people you did not know. Five people who all had one thing in common.

When you had spoke to Yoongi earlier that day, he tried to assure you it was the right thing. Your 'cop sense' was also agreeing with the words Yoongi muttered over the phone, but your normal brain was screaming to trust no one. You shoved your hands in your leather jacket, one foot tapping impatiently as Jin unlocked the heavy steel door in front of you. It was one of your old hideouts from when you first started your gun trade in Daegu. Eventually you moved on to a bigger building but this one was small, perfect for tonight's meeting. Thick manila envelopes rested heavy in your arms as you passed through the threshold, greeted by the musty smell of the old building.

It wasn't much. Three rooms and a bathroom. Still full of the tables and chairs you had left behind in case you needed it again one day, but that was four years ago. Dust lay heavy on everything - Jin set himself up to cleaning only causing dust to rise into the air earning coughs from the two of you. You spared a glace at the watch on your wrist. 9:49 PM. Eleven minutes until they were supposed to arrive. Yoongi had already met one of them earlier in the week. According to him, Namjoon - or NJ as he was referred to - was a very interesting character. When you asked what he meant by that, Yoongi just smiled and said you would find out when you met up with them.

Taking a seat on one of the folding chairs that was brought out by Jin, you stared at the door in a nervous anticipation. You had seen their files. Learned their backstories. You practically knew more about these people than you knew about yourself. Were they offered the same information on you, as you were on them? Two of them you knew, however, back when you were a cop over five years ago. Dr. Jeon Jungkook was the victim of a stabbing from the South Bend drug dealers. You worked his case and had to cover it up according  to the higher ups. You never questioned why, but at that time you didn't press it. You were already running your illegal gun trading. You didn't want the connections made.

Then there was Park Jimin - or Jimmy Park - as his alias stated on his forged documents. He had been taken in by a man who worked for South Bend at one point. Clients paid him to dig up dirt on people they needed out of their way and then be quickly disposed of. Jimin had a falling out with his 'dad' and ended up working on the good -or what you would call good - side. He was the one who you had met the night you and Jin barely escaped from Gwancheon. You never did have the chance to thank him for getting you two out and setting you up for a better life than you could imagine.

9:57PM. You shook your head gently as you glanced at your watch one more time. These people were definitely punctual. As the thought entered your brain, the loud grating sound of the door being pushed open caught your attention and brought Jin out from the backroom with a startled expression. Any loud noise still had him jumping at the shadows. For someone who dealt in guns and knew the inner workings of every weapon, he was a gentle and quiet man.

A tall man with blonde hair walked through the door. Glasses perched on his nose, a sense of wariness following on him. His clothes were wrinkled and his forefinger tapped like a nervous tick against his sweats. He seemed like he didn't trust anyone just from the way his eyes shifted back and forth, taking in the building he was in. His eyes caught you standing up from your chair as you gestured for him to come closer and take a seat in a chair that Jin sat down for him. He must be NJ.

Followed right behind him came another tall blonde with a black bandana tied around his head. Black, ripped jeans and a grey tshirt covered in grease stains.  His eyes were wide and curious as he turned and looked at his surroundings, nodding to himself as if he was pleased with what he saw.

"You must be Taehyung." you said holding your hand out for him to shake after he got closer to you. A large smile popped up on his face as he took your hand in his dirty one.

"That's right! You must be, Y/N. Sorry about the appearance. Work ran a little late today." his smile never wavering. So your suspicions had been correct, they knew about you too. Taehyung took the chair beside NJ and nodded in his direction. NJ just nodded back slightly, his finger still tapping against his leg.

"Jin! Come sit down. We can work on all that stuff later. Bring those packets with you please." You called through the open door where Jin had disappeared once again. He had it in his mind that he was going to get the hideout in tip top shape before everyone got here. You heard a loud crash from the back and an curse ring out. "You okay?" You got up and went to check on him, Taehyung followed you to see if you needed help. When you rounded the corner all you could do was laugh. Jin had managed to knock everything off the counter in the makeshift kitchen leaving tea and snacks all over the floor.

"Ooh! Snacks!" Taehyung spoke up behind you, working his way around you to grab a cookie off the floor and eat it after dusting it off. "Damn, these are good. Did you make these yourself?" he looked at Jin with wide eyes, to which Jin just nodded as he stared at his ruined cookies. Taehyung made himself busy helping Jin clean up while you excused yourself back out into the main room.

"Everything alright?" NJ spoke up from where he sat at the metal table. You smiled and nodded letting him know what happened. He opened his mouth to say something to you but closed it just as fast, looking like he was debating on whether or not he wanted to say what he had on the tip of his tongue. Before he could make that decision though, the door opened again, snapping NJ's and your attention towards the entryway. In walked a man with a sharp face. He wore a deep purple velvet coat that fell to his knees. Everything about him screamed expensive. He wore a smile on his face as we waved at the two of you with ring clad fingers.

"Hello! I'm Hoseok, Hobi as my friend calls me." He walked with large strides until he was in front of you. He grabbed your hand and held it up to his lips, "Or you can call me Your Hope." he said and winked before he kissed your knuckles, earning him an eye roll from both you and NJ.

"I'm Y/N. Or Boss since that's what I am." you smirked and leaned against the table watching his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He looked to NJ for confirmation. The latter just shrugged and held his hands up.

"I thought this whole thing was owned by Yoongi? That's his name right? It's what was written on everyone's profiles. The word Leader was in big red letters." Hobi looked between the two people in front of him for confirmation.

"I'll explain everything when the other two get here." you said rubbing the back of your neck.

As if on cue, the last two people walked in together talking in hushed voices, heads pushed close together. Jimin and Jungkook. You anticipated their arrival more than anyone else's. Mainly Jungkook's. You had heard that he was angry after your coverup job. He wanted to know why. He spent two weeks coming into the station demanding to talk to you, but your higher ups eventually got him to quiet down about the whole thing with some bullshit excuse. If what Hobi had said was true, and everyone's profiles were distributed, then Jungkook already knew you were here. You wondered how he felt about that.

Jimin looked up first, his bright red hair reflecting off the dull yellow lights that hung overhead. The two of you stared at one another for a moment before you broke contact first when Jungkook was suddenly in front of you, staring you down. He didn't look angry, but he also didn't look particularly happy to see you.

"Detective Yoo." he stated. Just those two words sent chills down your spine.

"Dr. Jeon." you nodded in his direction. His eyes narrowed and scoffed.

"So you do remember me. I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing." his eyes scanning you from head to toe leaving you feeling vulnerable. Something you didn't feel too often.

"Hey! I have snacks!" Taehyung yelled as he walked into the room with Jin, holding a new tray of tea and snacks before sitting them on the table.

"Is this a tea party? I thought we were here for business." Jungkook spoke as he flopped down in a seat beside Jimin who has remained quiet through the whole ordeal.

"I suggest you speak to Y/N with some respect. She's older than you and in charge of this whole thing." Jin scolded Jungkook as he sat down a cup of tea in front of him, glaring daggers at him.

"Whatever." he mumbled as he took a bite of cookie looking like a child who just got told he couldn't play with a certain toy.

"Okay. Everyone take a seat. I have some things to hand out and explain what exactly we are all doing here." you spoke over the chatter that everyone was partaking in while picking at their snacks.

Jin slid the stack of thick manila envelopes towards you, each one addressed to their proper owners. You walked around the table dropping the stacks in front of everyone, instructing everyone to open them.

"These are your new documents. Birth certificates, ID's, passports, citizen numbers, everything is new. Learn them. Also inside are three sets of keys. One is for the apartment building we own. It grants you entry and you only. There is also a slip of paper attached to these keys. You need the passcode along with the key to enter your personal apartment within the building. The second set of keys is your personal vehicles. All of which are in the parking garage of the apartment building. Attached to that is another number for the passcode into the garage. The last set of keys. The most important set. Is the keys to the headquarters. There are two passcodes you must have to enter. Any questions so far?" you asked looking aound at everyone at the table.

"Where's Yoongi?" Hobi asked for the second time that night.

"He is back at headquarters. We had a shipment run late today and he stayed behind and let me take over the meeting. It was originally him who was going to conduct this but he felt that I would be better suited." you explained as you shuffled through the paperwork in front of you.

"So, you're like what, his bitch?" Jungkook input from the end of the table, earning everyone's eyebrows to go up. Everyone's except NJ's who seemed relatively passive this whole time.

"He's actually my bitch. I'm more of a behind the scenes kind of person. I've been in the business longer than Yoongi has, therefore I'm more well equipped to run this gang than he is. But because we negotiated certain terms, he's the face of Bangtan and I run it. It's what we decided." you challenged.

"What if someone else wants to run it?" Jungkook pressed.

"Then go start your own gang. Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out." you shrugged before leaning on the table to stare him down. His face flushed red and he sat back in his chair, silent once again. "Now, back to the introductions. I'm sure all of you are well aware who everyone is in this room. Thanks to Jimin, everyone received detailed backgrounds on everyone." a chorus of mumbled 'yes's floated through the room.

"Perfect. Since that is out of the way, let's move on. I'm sure all of you are wondering why you have all been gathered. Wondering what it is that all of us have in common. One thing that Jimin left out of the reports is that South Bend is what connects us all. Whether or not we used to be part of them," a few curses were let out, "or we were attacked by them. It does not matter what the cause was, what does matter is that we take this into our hands. They're taking over territories. Partaking in human traffiking. Kidnappings for money."

"Why is this our problem? Why not let the cops take care of it. Are we the Justice League?" Jungkook opened his mouth, yet again.

"Do you want more coverups, Jeon Jungkook? Coverups -like the ones that I had to do to your case - will happen more and more often. South Bend is owning the force. I know none of you are innocent. You sold drugs as a teenager. Hoseok robbed banks and stole money from people for a living. Taehyung performed grand theft auto at least three times a week before tearing the cars apart and selling them for a higher market price. NJ broke into the Blue House for government documents. Yoongi ran a gun ring in South Bend for three years before we met. Jin helped me run illegal gun trades for over five years while I was a cop on the force after he had to find his parents murderd by their maid who happened to be working for South Bend. Jimin worked for South Bend to take down innocent people who were in the way of corporate corruption. None of us are innocent. We aren't vigilantes. What we are doing is highly illegal. We aren't just doing this for the justice of those being affected by South Bend's latest bullshit, but we are building an empire in the process. Do you realize how much revenue we could bring in? Not just for ourselves, but for our towns and communities? What we do, is for money and for power, but also to give back. In it's own way, we are selfish. Money hungry criminals." you finished your speech in a huff, your eyes narrowed and finger pointing in Jungkook's direction. Everyone was silent, all eyes were on you. You were pissed, no doubt. You weren't going to let some snotty little kid degrad what you were trying to do.

When Yoongi first had proposed the idea and Jimin sent documents your way of who you should gather and why they were perfect fits, you thought it was an amazing plan. Gain control of things and not have to live in constant fear anymore, get revenge, and give back to those who have lived a hellish life thanks to South Bend. You never thought for one minute you were wanna be vigilantes. That you were going to get payback for everyone who suffered at their hands because your reasons were entirely selfish. As for why everyone else showed up tonight, you could only assume that they had selfish reasons to. You wanted to build this empire. You wanted this. And you were going to be damned if you let anyone second guess your decisions tonight.

"Any questions?" you asked through gritted teeth.

"No..." Jungkook said meekly.

"Great. Let's head out."

AN: AHHHHHHHHH. It’s finally here!!! So the chapters will alternate between written and texts. I wanted to write the first part because we have to see smartass Kook and the explanations would take too much to text. So, I hope you guys are ready!

#kim namjoon #namjoon #kim seokjin #jin #min yoongi #yoongi #jung hoseok #hoseok #park jimin #jimin #kim taehyung #taehyung #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts fanfic #fanfiction BTS #BTS au #bts texts #bts fake texts #bts mafia au #criminal au #mafia au

[hellsbellssinclub]

Broken Nest for Broken Birds. Part 3

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3

Read it on AO3

Summary:

Dick Grayson. Jason Todd. Timothea Drake. Stephanie Brown. Damian Wayne.

All five were Batman’s birds. All five are broken in their own little ways.

Bruce Wayne struggles to keep his family together while keeping his more volatile children calm and feeling secure within their place in the family. But that is not an easy thing to do when you have five young adults with all very different needs that demand to be met and when you have your own issues to deal with.

*Follows the different Robin’s and Bat’s stream of consciousness as they deal with their day to day lives and try to figure out how to be a family together.*

Part 3. Dick Grayson. Age 22.

Unresponsive. Broken like a marionette puppet without her strings. Timmy looked like she has watched a world implode and she could have done nothing to save it while she sat in a space shuttle, safely away from the blast zone.

He should have been there, seeing Timmy home after they had been on patrol together with B. He should have made sure she was safe and well and that she had not been alone, especially after Bruce gave her that lecture and half about safety and not taking risks.

But he had left her. Gone and followed Bruce’s Orders once again and now he was looking down at the broken and exhausted face of the girl who was his baby sister. It wasn’t hard to imagine her on the ground, head twisted in an unnatural angle with blood around her head like a fucked-up halo.

He let her fall. He didn’t catch her. He wasn’t there to catch her. He had gone back to the cave like a good little Robin because he was Ordered to and now…

Dick felt lost as to what to do. He had failed another sibling. He was a terrible big brother. First Jason and now Timothea. She hasn’t spoken a word since she finished screaming and was she would only drink the tea that Dick had Alfred make, the one that Jason suggested before he took off on his bike, when Dick placed the cup against her lips. He wished he could be there alongside Jason. Away from the Manor and away from the biting feeling in the back of his throat that this was his fault for not being there with Timmy when she had finished patrol.

Timmy wasn’t doing anything much now that she stopped screaming her lungs out. Just breathing little choked and wet sobs under her breath. No more tears. She was still shaking and giving full body shudders as if she was in a snowstorm or the biting rain that Gotham has in winter time. Shock, most likely. Or the grief. Timmy wasn’t that close to her Dad or Step Mum but Dick knew she loved them. Seeing them dead like that… no child should ever see their parents like that. It is mentally scaring and destroying.

He should know. He still hasn’t gotten over his parents. Neither has Bruce or anyone else he knows who have found or saw their parents get killed. The Superhero community is full of heroes who have lost their parents or watched them get murdered. They even had made different clubs so that people could go and talk about their trauma and shit.

Not that any of the other Bats have ever gone to one of those clubs. Bruce is too fucking scared to admit his trauma of seeing his parents get shot when he was eight and is always high-key terrified that someone is going to turn on him because his Post-Traumatic Hypervigilance makes him to paranoid to trust anyone with his feelings. Jason was still on the outs with pretty much everyone. No one was sure how to approach the former dead Robin and he wasn’t inclined to go to any of the clubs anyway. Jay never had been in his first life and the sentiment was the same in this one too.

Dick had gone once, when he was still Robin. He didn’t go back again for another meeting. He never wanted to talk about what happened with his parents and looking back he probably should have tried. Really, he blames Bruce for his lack of healthy coping skills because all he ever learned really while living in the Manor was that unless it was all about to explode and end up with him hurting himself or someone else than Bruce was going to avoid the hell out everything and pretend that it was all normal.

And Timmy, poor little Timmy never qualified for any of them before now. She was as normal as one could possibly get before all this. She was just an average kid who wanted to do some good and she did. But at what cost? She lost all three of her parents, has been shot, stabbed and has nearly been murdered so many times in the past three years and Dick wanted nothing more than to go back in time and to tell the small girl who had come up to him with hopeful eyes that she should get lost and forget everything. That it wasn’t worth it at all.

But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t. Besides all of the time related bullshit that would go with changing the timeline, Dick was selfish enough to say that he did not want to let the young girl go at all. He wanted her to stay. He wanted her and Jason to get along and for them to both be siblings without having to fear that Jason’s Pit Madness or whatever it was didn’t flare up and he wanted for Bruce to be surrounded by everyone who cares for him.

If wishes were fishes Dick would be able to open his fish market and make a lot of money, that was for sure.

Running a wet, warm cloth over Timmy’s face only got him a blink or two. She wasn’t reacting to anyone now. She just sat there, in the blood-stained clothes Bruce all but wrangled her into before the cops arrived at her house. She needed to change. To get out of the bloody mess and into something clean.

“Okay Tiny-Tim. Let’s get you out of these clothes and into the shower.” He doesn’t speak loudly, not wanting to startle the young girl out of whatever shock she was in.  

The lights are on but no one is currently home in Timmy’s mind right now. Looks like they are just going to have to call back later it seems. She wasn’t reacting or moving on her own. With the help of Bruce and Alfred, Dick was able to strip her out of her clothes and get her into the shower. There were wounds, fresh and painfully wounds all over her pale body. Some must have been from patrol because the stitches on her hips looked fresh and painful. And broken. He would need to fix that.

He knew that Tim’s team was downstairs and that Oracle had called them all as soon as the call came through that all the Drakes were dead. He knew that they were all there and were all waiting desperately to see Timmy. But Dick didn’t want them near her. She was fragile and needed to be handled with care. He knew that they all just wanted to help her and that was good. The overwhelming need to comfort a friend in need is what makes them all good people. Makes them the caring and thoughtful heroes they are.

But Timmy didn’t need any of them right now. She didn’t need them crowding her or being in her space. She needed family. She needed Dick and Bruce and Alfred and Jason when he has calmed down and maybe Cass and Steph because they were all family and that was all Timmy needed.

He knows he should not be thinking like that. Possessiveness was a terrible trait that he needs to let go of but it is hard, so very hard not to kick everyone out of the Manor and keep Timmy safe and isolated away from anything that could harm her. He shouldn’t be having these thoughts and he knows, he really does know, that these thoughts only happen because he lost Jay and he doesn’t know how to deal with that guilt even now that Jay was alive and here with them and-

And he needed to calm down. He needed to stop and think and act like Nightwing, the leader and big brother. He cannot afford to act like Dick Grayson here. Dick Grayson was a human disaster and won’t be able to help his sister right now if he starts acting like a self-centred idiot.

Still, looking down at her all but hanging loosely in his arms as he dried her off and sat her down on the large tub so that Alfred could redo those broken stitches, Dick just couldn’t help those feelings of possessiveness overwhelm him. And by the look on Bruce’s face, he was feeling it too.

Timmy was their Baby Bird. The one the adored and wanted to protect all the time because she was just so weak and small and Dick knew in his head that she was a force to be reckoned with these days and that she was well on her way to becoming an A list hero.

But in his heart, he still saw her as the baby faced little twelve-year-old girl who he taught how to throw a decent punch. She was the little sister he had always wanted when he was younger and still with the circus. He adored her and loved her completely.

And he did know that some of that love came from guilt. Guilt that he hadn’t been the best big brother he could have been to Jason because he had been angry at Bruce at the time. He had been so angry that Bruce had taken his Mother’s name for him and had given it to Jason without his permission that he had taken it out on Jason, rather than Bruce. And after their first and terrible meeting, Dick had known that he had forever fucked up his and Jay’s relationship.

If he had not have died, Dick believes that they may have eventually gotten along properly. That they would have worked something out. But Jason died and then he had a small, excited child who looked up to him and he couldn’t, wouldn’t let himself fuck it up like he did with Jason.

So, Nightwing became the always the cool, calm guy who is everyone’s big brother. At least to the younger generation that is. To his own team and friends, he was allowed to be a normal person with normal emotional outbursts. But since taking on being the younger teams ‘den mother’ and all-round mentor and big brother to Timmy, he has forced himself to be this person that doesn’t get angry easily.

Which is you know, absolute bullshit. Everyone calls Jason the Angry Robin but anyone with half a brain knows that Dick is the Angry Robin. The Robin that rages and explodes and leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. At least Jay has a reason for his anger. The Pit fucks with people’s minds and the trauma he went through with dying really did give Jaybrid a reason to lash out. Dick just gets angry and fucks shit up before someone calms him down.

He knew that Timmy didn’t feel like they loved her, especially since taking Jason back in. But they did love her. They love how she stumbled down in the morning after a long case or patrol and would look at them sleepily before stealing Bruce’s coffee. They loved how she would get excited about small little things and would ramble on and on until she blushes and stops because she realises that she is still talking. They love her enthusiasm and joy and how brilliant she is.

They love her. All of them do.

And watching her sit numbly on the edge of the bath, barely twitching or moving as the stiches go through her skin, broke their hearts.

One of them would have go downstairs soon and tell Timmy’s team to go home for the night and come back tomorrow evening. They needed to get some clothes for Timmy for the next few days, seeing as she only had over night clothes in the Manor. Bruce needed to send a few messages to his lawyers about getting custody of Tim.

There was so, so much that needed to be done. And Dick didn’t want to leave Tim’s side at all. His Baby Bird was hurt and needed help and the guilt was just eating him inside, telling him that it was his fault that she had to face this alone when he could have been there with her but he had not and-

And he would not be any help his sister, father, brother or grandfather if he let himself fall apart right now. There was work to be done and the quicker he gets it done, the easier it would be on all of them.

He may have given Jay three days to go and find out what he could but Dick would be damned if he doesn’t go out and help the younger man search. With the rage and guilt rising like bile in the back of his throat, Dick could say honestly that he was looking forward to beating some heads in. And to leaving the oppressive atmosphere of grief and pain that was seeping into the Manor’s walls.

But that will wait. Right now, there are jobs to be done. The jobs won’t ease the guilt or rage like a good ass kicking would, but they were necessary and needed. Alfred and Bruce can look after Timmy for a few hours or so while he does these few jobs.

He isn’t running away.

(He isn’t.)  

#Broken Nest for Broken Birds #hellsbells wrote something!!! #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #tim drake #red robin #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #jason todd #red hood #batman fic