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#and now I'm too scared to show up and hand over some papers.
mar3ggiata · 2 days
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professional help, c7. Beware of the dog.
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simon riley x original character.
trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs, EDs and death.
song to listen to when reading this: Dark red, Steve Lacy.
abstract: Simon. I don't fucking know what to say about this chapter, I was moving in autopilot. and I'm just being a decent fucking human being, what do you expect me to say really? just start reading already.
She took a look around. The men in the room were looking at her like she was gonna spontaneously combust and explode. Some of them had their lips pressed in a thin line. I'm sorry Jude, this is the part fo the movie where you die! Simon on her right was frowning, his eyebrows slightly peering through his mask. She started imagining if she just left right now. Took her dog, got to the airport and moved to Spain. The Maldives, maybe. She started a new life as a new person once at 18, she could do it again now seven years later. Or maybe she just needed to go home, smoke every little bit of weed she had left, curl up in bed and die. She started laughing. She had always thought her laugh was the most awful sound in the word. She started laughing, she looked psychotic. She hid her smile with her right hand through her head back. Her voice was the only sound in the room, ripping apart the air. It was a terrifying sight. Fuck me sideways. How could she be so stupid to get back to that job in the first place, after what happened in 2021. 'Oh God…' she sighed when she regained a little bit of control over her laughter which still lingered in the air like a distorted melody. She was still smiling. The first time he saw her smile, laugh even. It sounded real, she sounded genuinely delighted.
Simon decided he wanted nothing to do with her right in that moment. She scared him to death, who knew a woman could be this attractive and scary at the same time. Price seemed to think showing her the calendar wasn't a good idea after all and quickly took the piece of paper and pushed it to the side. 'Look Jude, we're gonna escort you home, it's gonna be fine, we're going to continue to look for him until we have to leave.' He was trying to calm her down and, frankly, she looked perfectly fine. She looked like she was at a dinner party with her favourite friends, a glass of Champaign in her hand, her eyes shining with little tears of joy from laughing too much. Except, she laughed because she was scared. 'I've seen this film before, captain', she said, her words sounded venomous. Her eyes were dark, filled with sorrow and regret. Something like this happened before, and the captain knew.
'No, I'm telling you, it will be fine.' Price was trying to convince her. 'Gentlemen, we have an early flight tomorrow, we're going to keep looking for Arash until we find something and we'll brief again at nine, tonight. If they know we're coming, things might get ugly.' Jude was no where to be found. Well, she was still in the room, but her smile left space to an expression of defeat, like she had accepted her fate. Her eyes didn't look as bright, she kept wiping the palm of her hands on her thighs. Simon had noticed. His eyes locked with the captain's and they understood each other. Take her away, this was the sign. He quickly turned towards her, slouching downwards to speak closer to her. 'Let's go Jude', he instructed. She didn't look up at him, keeping her eyes low, but made her way to the door. He was walking beside her matching her speed. 'Take your car, I'll follow you' he said, and she still didn't answer.
'Jude' he called and finally she looked at him 'What!?' She raised her voice. She was mad again. Like the first time he saw her, fists curled with rage, on the verge of tears. He tried to keep his voice as gentle as he could. 'It's alright, everything's going to be fine', he tried to talk to her like he would do in an hostage rescue situation. 'I'll get you home. I know how to do my job', he reassured. He thought knowing he knew what to do might make her feel better. She nodded and quickly walked to her car. He followed her car all the way to the city, trying not to lose her in traffic. She parked in a busy residential street and he quickly followed. When she got out she looked for him, and waited for him to get out of the truck. She trusted him. Not because he was someone special, but from what she'd gathered he was someone Price trusted, he was probably good at his job. And he seemed kind.
'This way' she said, making her way to her apartment. She gave him her keys, he made his way to the door and got his gun out of the holster. He then noticed the little sign on the side of the door. 'Beware of the dog'. 'You scared of dogs?' she asked quietly, appearing on his side like the angel on his shoulder. Under his shoulder, let's say. Now, was he afraid of dogs, no. Did he have the best relationship ever with animals? Focus, you have a job to do, kill the dragon, save the princess. 'Stay back'. He opened the door and peered through with his gun drawn. The only sound that came from inside was a loud bark and paws on the floor. The puppy greeted him by sniffing his feet, his tail was wiggling. Not much of a guard dog, was it a German Shepard? The lights were out in the apartment, Jude made her way inside and flicked them on. She looked around and everything seemed as she left it. 'Ciao, si ciao' she spoke to the dog, who was clearly excited to see her, whining and stomping his paws. Simon tried to remember the words she said, so he could guess her native language. Spanish?
He looked around her living room and kitchen. Her house resembled her personality. There were books scattered on the coffee table, at least 5 of them, an empty mug as well. Books and papers on the sofa as well, maybe she was studying something? Black big reading glasses, with huge lenses. There were posters on the walls, art he didn't recognise. Nothing much on the shelves, minimal decor. A tall lamp in the corner of the room. He noticed a polaroid picture with someone with short hair. So you do have a boyfriend… Her kitchen was clean. It was a nice kitchen, she didn't have a table but two stools under a kitchen isle which probably served as a counter too. It was connected to the wall. Again, folders and scattered papers, maybe work. The dog bed on the floor. A lot of plants, he didn't think they were fake. An ashtray next to the window. Smoker? 'Can I check the other rooms?' he asked. To be respectful, you know. She nodded and he made his way to her bedroom. The door was closed. He glanced around the room, he checked the toilet as well. The bed wasn't made. She had light blue bedding. The room smelled like her, like lavender. She had a stuffed animal on the bed, a sheep. She had fuzzy slippers, probably a size 5. On the wall, more posters. He noticed a painting of a scary dog's fangs. Books on the nightstand, books on the wooden window sill. He saw a bra hanging from a chair and that was his cue to leave. In the toilet, one single toothbrush. So… no boyfriend?
'All clear'. She was standing beside the door, her dog at her feet was licking her hand while she petted him lazily. 'Thanks' she offered him a smile, a tiny one. She looked more relaxed. They stood looking at each other for a few seconds. Until he couldn't hold it in any longer. 'What happened last year?' He saw her expression darken, her shoulders tense. Who do you think you are to ask like that? She straightened her back and let go of the dog. He remained at her feet, wanting attention. 'You should learn to mind your business.' She made her way to the kitchen. She passed by him and didn't make eye contact. 'You should have some respect when you talk to people’ he answered. He didn't have time for this. He was fucking stupid to think he could speak with her, actually acting like a 10 year old. The dog came closer to him and sniffed his shoes. 'You know where the door is.' She turned around and faced the sink. He could feel a switch in her voice, in her attitude. It was Jude and then Her, her real self, whoever she was. It was two different people. The girl saw kindly smiling at Gaz in the car wasn't the same girl that barged in their briefing room demanding they listen to her. Or maybe it was, maybe that was Jude, and the scared, damaged little thing that he took home a year prior was Her. He didn't know who. Jude was Ghost and She was Simon. Something very bad had happened back then. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be, he wasn't meant to know, no matter how much he tried. She raised a wall in between them. She made the weather right outside the apartment turn to when it's about to rain. Thunderstorms and lighting kind of rain. And it was probably better this way. He turned around without saying a word, only careful not to let the dog out.
She started breathing again when he left. Her mouth was dry, she was sweating. She called the dog and gave him food. She lit a cigarette and sat by the window. She called in the dance school, saying she had a fever. This way, she could stay inside all weekend. It took her forty minuted to stop shaking. Images from that day replayed in her mind at least once every three days now. She had gotten better, but that thingh wasn't really something you recover from. She sometimes woke up in the middle of the night sweating and crying, feeling the blade of the knife on her skin. She had dreams she had died. She wished she never woke up for a long time. She had dreams about the way he touched her. The first five months after it happened she would bite her nails till the cuticles bled and not shower for days. Her own hands on her skin felt like his. The first time she talked to another human being was when she visited Salvo in San Francisco. She looked like a corpse. He was speechless and hated her for letting herself go like this. It wasn't just the eating and over exercise, which he knew were her preferred coping mechanisms. She had lost interest in living, in speaking, in watching movies, reading. Her career… He held her every night, they slept intertwined in his room, he was the first man that actually showed her respect. He was the first man she touched after that day, she hugged him and rested her head on his chest while he reminded her she was loved, she was important to him, she was alive. He would caress her hair when she woke up sweating and was patient with her when she wouldn't eat. This time was different, she was going to be fine. Even if Salvo wasn't there. Arash would not find her, the memories from last year would leave her alone. She would make it once again.
notes. translation: 'Ciao, si, ciao.' means 'hi, yes, hi.'
notes: Salvatore, i want a friend like you, KING. I am back, I'm sorry for the delay I got surgery done to my teeth??? Anyways, enjoy!!!
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hexagonaldecency · 1 year
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Screaming at the void a bit
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mrsmikaelsxn · 1 year
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Troublemakers
masterlist
pairing: regulus black x female reader
warnings: cursing, fluff, mr no nose
summary: you and reggie being the entertainment in voldemorts cult
a/n: this was funnier in my head, i kinda butchered the idea but oh well, hope you enjoy it !
song: mind mischief - tame impala
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You and Regulus were at a Death Eater meeting. You sat next to each other, as always.
Your hands were under the table as the two of you played rock, paper, scissors.
Lucius was next to you and he watched you hit your thigh, annoyed when you lost.
Voldemort hits his wand on the table twice, waiting for you two to stop.
Caught up in the game, since you had gotten four ties in a row, you both hadn't heard him.
It wasn't until you felt both your heads being slapped in the back did you realize the Dark Lord was waiting on you two.
"If you two are done with your filthy muggle game, I was just about to mention..."
You and Regulus rested your heads on the table, eyes fluttering shut as you two tune out the boring voice of Voldemort.
You were soon awoken by a bang on the table.
"I hope you two enjoyed your beauty sleep," he glares.
"We did," you and Regulus say in union, then high five each other
You glance around the room and notice that everyone else has already gone.
"You two can be excused from this behavior if you teach me how to play that game, but you two mustn't tell a single soul," Voldemort whispers.
You look at each other, a grin making its way to both your faces. You glance back at Voldemort before nodding your heads.
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This was the second meeting this week.
You two had been arguing about random stuff, getting things thrown at the two of you as you ran around shouting at one another.
You were sitting at the meeting, thinking about things that you are better at than Reg.
You suddenly feel a tug on your hair.
"The hell?"
"What?" Regulus shrugs. You turn your head back to the people at the table, but you feel another tug.
"Can you fucking not," you whisper harshly.
"Can you fucking not," he mimics you in a high pitch voice.
You kick his leg with your heel and he lets out a hiss of pain.
Voldemort slaps his hands onto the table, making you both jump.
"Stop this foolishness, now," he orders you two.
"Not until you get a manicure," you roll your eyes and cross your arms.
"I'm sorry?" Voldemort asks as Regulus covers his laugh with his hand.
"A manicure, you know... to fix your nails," you say as you look at the people around the table. Most of them are either scared for you, or just shaking their heads.
You feel another tug on your hair, this time harder.
"Ow! Regulus, what the fuck," you hold your head.
"Enough!" Voldemort shouts.
"He's just mad he has no hair for someone to pull," Reggie whispers in your ear.
"Make one more comment on the topic of my baldness-"
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Sat next to Regulus, you two were gossiping about the Death Eaters.
Not everything you were discussing was true, but they were things you heard.
For example, Regulus heard some muggleborn girls laughing about how Lucius looks like something they call a "Barbie".
After you two found out what it was, you couldn't get that picture out of your head.
You two giggling like children while pointing at Lucius and whispering to each other.
"Are you both done laughing at me," Lucius stares at you both with a bored face.
"Whatever do you mean, Lucy."
"First, don't call me that. Second, you know exactly what I mean!"
"We really don't."
"Fine," you huff, "we were just comparing your looks you a Barbie Doll," you explain.
"A what?" Voldemort and Lucius asks.
"Let me show you," you take out your wand and conjure a Barbie.
Regulus takes it and holds it out to them.
To everyone's surprise, Voldemort himself starts laughing.
He points his finger back and for between the doll and Lucius as he laughs.
"You guys are right! He does indeed look like Barbara!"
"Barbie."
"Same thing."
"Not you too, My Lord," Lucious runs a hand over his face.
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"Who the fuck did this!"
"Uh, oh," you and Reg sigh. You figured that after the conversation with hair at one of the recent meetings, Voldemort would want some.
But you two decided that was too nice for your liking. So you decided on clown hair.
Voldemort comes rushing into the living room, where everyone was on the couches.
Gasps of horror filled the room as people stared at the bright rainbow hair.
"You two," Voldemort snarls.
"You," you both grin.
"What have you done to my head!"
"We thought you could use some hair," you smile innocently at him.
"You call this rubbish hair?!"
"Hey! We think it suits you!" Regulus exclaims as you nod in agreement.
"Get it off of me, this instant!"
"Hmm-"
"Now!"
"Hmmm…"
He starts speed walking to you, you two tried so hard not to laugh at the sight, that your eyes started watering.
He is almost where you guys are sat when you two stand up and start sprinting out of the room.
"Gotta go!" Reg shouts as you rush out into the hall.
"GET BACK HERE! REGULUS! Y/N!"
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little-diable · 8 months
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Labour - Tommy Shelby
This came to me as I listened to “Labour” by Paris Paloma, and boy, do I love love love this story. Be aware that this is somewhat loosely set in S2, but it doesn’t really follow the shows plot line. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: While Tommy keeps pulling away from his wife, she gets tangled in a web of lies to protect her husband, making deals behind his back with his enemies.
Warnings: 18+, smut, unrotected piv, troubling relationship but with a happy end, mentions some fighting and misogyny
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (3.5k words)
header by @deathofpeaceofmind
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Why are you hanging on so tight, to the rope that I'm hanging from?
“Oh (y/n), isn’t it lovely how naive you women all are?” Inspector Campbell’s voice echoed through the small side street, lips pulled into a grin that made bile rise in (y/n)‘s throat. Her eyes didn’t dare back away from the contact he held, not wanting to come off as scared. 
“I have no time for games, inspector. It’s the same deal as always, you’ll pull your men away from our area tomorrow, and you’ll get your money, easy as that.” Her fingers searched for a cigarette in the pocket of her warm coat, sighing in relief as she finally felt the familiar paper against her fingertips. He watched her light the cigarette with his sharp gaze, forcing holes into her skin like bullets made to kill. 
“Do you really think your money still satisfies me?” He took a step closer, but (y/n) didn’t move, she held her ground, blowing the smoke of her cigarette into his direction. With the click of his tongue he came to a halt like Hades himself coming to claim Persephone, forced into a bond that held more power over her than she liked. “We both know how much your husband loves you, but how will he react to your betrayal? How will he react once he hears about the deals you force his enemies into?” 
She wanted to laugh at his words, finding amusement in the way he imagined her marriage, full of love that had once been but no longer was. His cold hand found her chin, gripping it all too tightly. With a growl rumbling through her, (y/n) pulled away, throwing the burned out cigarette to the ground. 
“Your threats may work on others, but not on me, Campbell. We both know you need the money as much as a child needs its food. I have no problem with asking others who like to do business with me to take care of you and the pathetic excuse of a life you live.” He clenched his jaw, hands balled into fists as his tongue kissed his teeth. For a few seconds neither of them spoke up, letting the silence rest heavy on their shoulders. 
“Fine, we’ll keep your streets empty tomorrow, I’ll expect the money by Friday, not one day later.” The inspector turned from the now grinning woman, disappearing in the dark shadows lingering around them. Only as (y/n) knew that he no longer could see her did she wipe away her fake smirk, back clashing against the nearest wall, bracing herself. 
By now (y/n) was all too used to making deals with those that could interfere with her husband’s business, taking over the work he didn’t know about, believing that everything was simply working out in his favour. But fate hadn’t been nice with Tommy Shelby, at least not till (y/n) had stumbled into his life, slowly taking over, working in the shadows Tommy found no interest in. 
It was a dangerous game she was playing, set on giving her life for the man she loved more than any words could describe, walking closer to God than any other woman she has ever crossed paths with. 
All for a man who asked more from her than he’d ever be able to understand, drawing away from his once loving touches, fully focused on his business rather than his failing marriage.
Who fetches the water from the rocky mountain spring? And walk back down again to feel your words and their sharp sting and I'm getting fucking tired
……
“Where have you been?” Tommy’s voice echoed through their dark bedroom, naked upper body bare to her now wide eyes. She hadn’t expected him to come home tonight, preferring to stay away from their quiet home that had once been filled with love. (Y/n) stood in the middle of their bedroom, shaking off her coat with a sigh rumbling through her.
“I was at Margret’s, you know how much she struggles with her new baby.” The lie rolled off her tongue all too effortlessly, even though his piercing eyes didn’t leave her features once, trying to figure out if she was speaking the truth. Slowly (y/n) laid down next to him, no longer used to feeling Tommy this close. Without anticipating his next movements, (y/n) flinched away as his hand found her chin, grasping her just like Campbell had done, digging into the forming bruises. 
“We need you here, it was your call to take over the household, this home needs its woman, just like I do.” His voice had an almost threatening touch to it, forcing a sharp inhale of cold air into her aching lungs. (Y/n)’s hands tightened their grip on the warm blanket, searching the comfort of the bed she had been sleeping in alone for weeks that have felt like years.
“What is a home with a woman without a husband to share her marriage with? Don’t you lecture me on my whereabouts when you’ve been hiding from me like a scared boy for weeks, Thomas.” (Y/n) turned from Tommy before he could reply, squeezing her eyes shut with her teeth buried in her lower lip. In these moments she desperately wanted to speak up, and wanted to lay all her deals on the oblivious husband that didn’t even notice where his money was going. And yet she kept her mouth shut. 
She felt his eyes on the back of her head for a few more moments before Tommy shuffled around in their bed, wordlessly placing his arm around her waist to draw her into his naked chest. And with a squeeze of her hand, the both of them gave into the call of darkness, searching for some much needed hours of sleep. 
And the silence haunts our bed chamber, you make me do too much labour
……
“Please sit, love. Tea?” Alfie Solomon’s voice echoed through the new apartment, leaving (y/n) smiling. She nodded her head, sinking into the comfortable chair with a sigh. “You look tired, is your husband keeping you on your toes lately?”
“I barely see him around these days, so there’s not much going on to keep me on my toes. How have you been, Alfie?” The man fumbled with his glasses, watching her as if he was expecting (y/n) to strike any moment now. 
“You see, a smart man knows to never cross a woman like you, your wicked mind will one day force us all to our knees, if it weren’t for your eyes.” She pondered over his words for a moment, head slightly tilted to the side, wondering what the man was talking about.
“It’s as if God himself had spoken to me, Alfie, he’d say, she’s dangerous, worse than any enemy you’ve ever killed, but her eyes tell you all about her sadness, about the help she needs but won’t ask for.” A laugh bubbled out of (y/n), eyes fluttering close to let go of a tired sigh. Her hand found her forehead, rubbing her temples to get rid of the headache that kept tourmenting her, robbing much needed hours of sleep from her. 
“You’ve always had a talent with words, Alfie. Can’t believe the young Jewish boy I once shared my bread with is now trying to lecture me on my way of living.” Alfie’s throaty chuckles reverberated through the room, welcoming the warm memories of the moments he and (y/n) have shared all those years ago. Once they’ve been nothing more than oblivious children, searching for the comfort one another could offer. 
“Tell me, what is it this time you need? I’m meeting your husband tonight, so you better tell me now if you want me to kill him, yeah? I always told you, you should have married me, would certainly have saved you from all these struggles.” Her hand found his, squeezing the fingers she had always been reaching for, needing the man she loved like a brother close, though keeping their relationship hidden from the husband that didn’t know anything about the dark past she had been forced to live through. 
“It feels as if something is going to happen, I can’t lose him, Alfie. Who did you do business with lately?” Their eyes didn’t break contact, not as he took a sip of the hot tea, not as he leaned back in his chair, eyes flickering from hers to the big windows. Rain was pouring from the dark sky, pitterpattering against the windows that gave off a view others would pay too much money for, not knowing what else to invest in. The end was near, both could feel it, even though they wouldn’t share the same end, ripped away from one another by wrongdoings that were still buried six feet under like rotten corpses. 
“The business is rough, you’ve got to survive somehow, yeah? Always remember that, love.”
……
The cold lingering in her home had something almost amusing to it, a clear reflection of her relationship with the man who had once lured her into this house, promising her a life that had been nothing more than a game, a dream so fulfilling she couldn’t help but ache for it. (Y/n)‘s feet met the ground, staring at the watch that told her there was still enough time till evening would roll upon her, wondering how the meeting between Alfie and Tommy would play out.
“(Y/n)?” Tommy’s voice left her frozen, head whipping towards her husband. 
“What are you doing at home? Two days in a row, did something happen?” With his hand stretched out for her to take, he slowly pulled her closer, gently cupping her cheek. Tommy studied her for a few moments, the confusion swimming in her gaze, the tension clinging to her body. She quietly thanked herself for covering the bruises on her chin with enough makeup to hide what had happened from the man with eyes so piercing he’d outshine the stars twinkling in the night sky. 
No words left him as he kissed her, making her gasp at the almost unfamiliar touch. Her arms found their way around his neck instantly, not daring to break the contact she had been aching for. Tommy tasted of cigarettes, of expensive alcohol, and of secrets he never intended to share with her, not knowing that she knew more about the business than he ever will. He tasted of everything he once hadn’t tasted of as their paths had crossed years ago, changing into a ruthless man that toyed with those keeping him company.
He pushed her against their dinner table, forcing her to sit on the expensive wood with her legs wrapped around his waist. Moans left the two that tugged on one another’s clothes, needing to scratch the itch that forced them to keep on moving, hands not daring to let go. She was trembling with anticipation thumping through her veins, trying to silence her thoughts, not wanting to pull away from the husband that hadn’t touched her in weeks.
“Don’t, just fuck me, please Tommy.” Her words drew his fingers away from her already soaked folds, undoing his trousers as her lips found his again. The kiss managed to distract her from the feeling of his cock nudging against her entrance, slowly sinking into her tightness. Both moaned in unison, needing to adjust to one another’s body for a moment before they could give in.
“Fuck, I almost forgot how perfect you feel.”
(Y/n) wanted to speak up, wanted to scold him for keeping his distance, but no word managed to leave her, nothing but moans filling the seconds fading by. 
His hips snapped against her middle with every rough thrust, perfectly teasing the swollen spot that made her see stars so bright (y/n) feared she’d end up blinded. The moment wasn’t sweet, wasn’t even loving, but it was everything they needed, distracting them from the racing thoughts that would eventually force their skin from their bones. 
(Y/n) clawed her fingernails into his neck, keeping him close as their moans clashed against one another’s lips, wordlessly communicating their arising high. Soon they’d give in with trembling limbs, racing hearts, and swollen lips, an inferno so strong it’d burn their bodies to the ground.
“You’re mine, don’t you ever forget that.” The possessiveness dripping from his words left her aching her back, head thrown back as she fell over the edge with his name leaving her. Tommy gave it a few more ferocious thrusts before he released himself inside her, painting her walls white. His heat filled her system, clinging to her like a second layer of skin, forever remembering this very moment. 
“I have to leave for some meetings, do me a favour and stay at home tonight, eh?”
I know you're a smart man, and weaponise the false incompetence, it's dominance under a guise
……
“(Y/n)?” Arthur’s voice echoed through the home, luring her from the quiet garden back inside. The older Shelby brother studied her with an unreadable gaze for a few seconds before he cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. “Tommy wants to meet you at the Garrison, I’ll drive you there.”
Wordlessly she followed Arthur outside, fetching her coat before stepping out into the brisk afternoon, wrapping the fabric tightly around her body. She didn’t dare ask any questions, not wanting to distract the man she had shared too many drunk conversations with, turning towards him whenever Tommy left her behind to mingle with those she’d meet in the dark shadows of side streets even the most ruthless gangsters would avoid. 
The houses they passed grew bigger with every street they turned into, housing families that desperately tried to overcome the ruins war had pushed them into, financial struggles that left them drowning in debts. (Y/n)‘s heart ached whenever she walked past those struggling more than her mind could even begin to imagine, living a life filled with sorrows, with fear, with anger. A life she wouldn’t ever want to live.
“Cigarette?” Arthur pushed the cigarette into her hand before he opened the car door for her, allowing her to walk into the all too familiar pub. Only as she set her foot inside did she begin to notice that the pub wasn’t filled with its usual crowd, no, but an unexpected duo was watching her every step. Her insides screamed at her to turn around, breath hitched in her chest.
“Sit.” Her husband pointed towards the chair in front of him, smoking his cigarette with an unemotional expression tugging on his features. Arthur gave her a slight push, forcing (y/n) to walk closer. Her eyes didn’t part from those she had held contact with ever since she had been a child, heart clenching in her chest as she began to realise what was about to happen. 
For a few seconds they were surrounded by nothing but silence, with four pairs of eyes watching the woman, waiting for her to speak up, to ask questions, but (y/n) knew better, keeping her mouth shut. Her eyes fluttered from Tommy to Arthur, to John, and lastly to Alfie. 
“I called Margaret this morning, tell me, (y/n), why did she tell me that she hasn’t seen you in weeks?” Tommy’s sharp voice left her tensing, tongue running along her lower lip to find the right words to speak. But she couldn’t, her throat was too tight, mouth too dry to even articulate a single word threatening to leave her pressed together lips. “You see, at first I didn’t think any of it, it’s true, I pulled away from the marriage I should have paid more attention to, but if I’d known that my own wife would betray me, I would have locked you up in our bedroom. Tell me, how deep does your betrayal run?”
A scoff left (y/n), ignoring her husband’s words as her eyes focused on Alfie. She tilted her head to the side, just like she had done the day prior, thinking through their conversation again before she finally broke the silence, “This is what you call surviving, Alfie? Going against your oldest and most trusted friend? And don’t you dare to tell me God fucking told you to go against me. What are you even getting out of this?” 
She couldn’t help but pick up on the confusion now swimming in Tommy’s pupils, gaze flickering between (y/n) and Alfie.
“It’s like I told you, yeah, surviving is always what you should focus on. Your husband here is a bit slow, but he asked questions you gave me no answer to.” Alfie kept his voice calm, keeping details from her she’d have to beg for. She had always known that he was giving into more deals than any other gangster she knew, eventually betraying those he treated like his own family. But not once had (y/n) even dared to think that he’d betray her. 
“Arthur, John, show Alfie Solomons the way out, I have some things to talk about with my wife.” Tommy’s eves didn’t leave hers, not as Alfie rose to his feet, coming to a halt next to (y/n) to try and squeeze a shoulder, a touch she flinched away from, not as Arthur and John disappeared outside with Alfie slowly following them. And once again (y/n) and Tommy were engulfed by the all too familiar silence they’ve grown to accept, but today it had an uncomfortable touch to it, making her skin crawl. 
“Solomons and who else? Who else did you do business with?” She kept quiet, squeezing her eyes shut as Tommy smashed his palm flat against the table. Anger flushed through his veins, too blind to see through the fog of confusion he was trapped in, not understanding what she had done and why she had done these deals after all. “Fucking speak to me, woman!”
“Fuck you, Thomas. Do you even understand what I did for you? I saved your life too many times to count. I managed to hold Campbell back as much as possible, I stopped Alfie from giving into deals that would have ended your life before you could even begin to understand what he was doing, even the fucking Italians. But you had to fuck this up, you had to boast your fucking ego, while you were too blind to even realise that your own fucking wife, the one you left behind like some used whore you forgot to pay, was the reason your business kept growing.” She rose to her feet, walking past Tommy to pour herself a glass of bourbon, drowning the shot in one go. Her eyes fluttered close as the alcohol burned down her throat, welcoming the distraction from the pain that forced her heart to clench. 
“Why didn’t you tell me? We could have worked together.” No longer did his voice carry any anger, almost quiet as if he was whispering. Slowly she turned back towards him, keeping her distance with her back pressed against the bar. 
“Work together? You pushed me away whenever I tried to speak to you about the business. You were simply too proud to work with your wife, so I had to take matters into my own hands before your pride would kill you.” He lit a cigarette, pulling it from his lips to reach it out for her to take. It took (y/n) a second to snap into motion, walking towards her husband with slow, calculated steps. His hand snapped out to grasp her wrist, pulling her into his lap before she could turn away. 
“What shall I do with you, woman?” She deeply inhaled, letting the smoke flush through her lungs, leaving deathly marks that would eventually be her death call, should the business she was now fully trapped in not catch up with her first. “You won't tell those you do business with that I know about this, perhaps we can use this to our advantage. But I need you to be honest with me from now on, are we clear?”
“Who would have thought we’d ever end up doing business with one another, mister Shelby.“ He took the cigarette from her, placing it between his lips for one last drag, watching her with curiosity filling his pupils. „I have one condition though.”
“Come home to me, Tommy, I won’t endure the silence in our home any longer.” 
573 notes · View notes
liaarxse · 9 months
Note
tr boys when y/n has issues accepting that they actually do love her
Yesterday, today and tomorrow
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Characters: Nahoya Kawata, Manjiro Sano, Kazutora Hanemiya
Warnings: Fluff, a bit of angst in Kazutoras part
A/n: Literally pulled out the biggest smile when I saw this request. Also, yes, Nahoya again. I just love writing for him. idk why (cuz he a crackhead)
P.s: Remember, it was said multiple times that Toman doesn't hurt women, sunshines. Don't think they'd break your precious hearts. They'd be just a bit hard to deal with <3
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—NAHOYA KAWATA
Okay, we've all seen that one best/worst boyfriend chart our friend Ken Wakui made.
Personally, I threw a fit when I saw who were the worst.
Then I thought about Nahoya. He seemed a bit like a fuck boy, you get what I mean? Yeah, no.
Then I thought about it again
I examined the post a bit more after I found it in English and read what Takemichi said. If Mikey and Kazutora would be the top worst because they're reckless, Nahoya would obviously be even tamer
So personally, I believe Nahoya is in the top three just because he has a carefree type of living way. Like, he isn't scared of fighting, killing, and all. I mean, he probably IS scared to kill but doesn't show it.
How's he a red flag again? I don't believe them.
But for one, he'd never cheat on you. He'll be loyal as hell. Maybe if he wasn't in a relationship in one of the time skips where it showed the top members he'd fuck around with chicks (straight hair grown up Nahoya gives me fuckboy energy), but since the change and he's now working with his brother In their ramen shop? Get that thing out of your head.
Because for him to get in a relationship, he must dearly love and respect you.
Keep in mind that he also has to trust you since, in one way, if you're not to be trusted and/or are somewhat dangerous, he's putting his brother in danger as well.
But that's besides the point.
He loves you.
It's painfully obvious
He protects you, he trusts you, he spoils you in his own ways
He loves you
Maybe it's past relationship trauma that causes you to think it's all a facade
Which brings us to today's scenario
You're in Nahoya's room since his brother is out all day and you didn't bother to fix yours
You were looking around his room while he was testing the new straightener you got him since his broke
Examining the objects around you, your eyes land on a frame right above his toman uniform. It was of you two
You wondered why he would frame such a picture on the wall over his gang uniform. You mostly didn't like it because you hated the way you came out in the picture
Getting off his bed, you walked over to the opposite wall and stared at the picture for a good minute
Nahoya noticed that from the reflection on the mirror in front of him, but his smile just grew a tad bit more and returned to straightening his hair
You pursed your lips together in thought and reached to grab it
"Oi!" He exclaimed with a giggle. "Hands off."
You flinched when he suddenly spoke and turned to him with a raised brow
"What? Why?"
"Because," He turned around to face you. "I know you'll throw the pic away."
You weren't going to lie. If you stared at it for a bit more, you would've made the paper rip itself. You hated how you came out!
"But I look horrible!"
"I know." He laughed, but it quickly died down to a chuckle when he saw you glaring at him. "I'm kidding, babe. You look hella cute!"
You quickly turned around to hide the blush that appeared on your face. Crossing your arms, you were still staring at the picture
Being too caught in the act, you didn't realize when Nahoya finally finished straightening his hair and came up to you. He loosely wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder, mockingly copying your slightly frustrated face
You noticed that and rolled your eyes with a soft groan, which earned you some snickering from him. He pressed a kiss to your cheek before nuzzling his own to yours
"Why did you frame this?"
"Because it's special."
"How is it special?" Your voice grew confused. It's just a picture, nothing much
"Reminds me of the main reason I never give up."
Your blood went cold. What?
"What do you mean by that?"
"You're my main priority, babe. You, your safety, your smile." He chuckled at how cheesy he sounded. "That's why I framed us right over my gang uniform. Every time I have to change for a brawl or even just a meeting, I'm reminded of the smile that will greet me in the end and will always be there."
That didn't sound like Nahoya. For a moment, you even thought if that wasn't just some doppelganger
Until he smacked your ass
Yeah that's him
He loves you, and without realizing it, he just made all your problems fade away
Looking at the picture now, maybe, just maybe, it isn't as bad as you thought it was.
+ Your little twin girls found the picture in some box while playing and made fun of how you both looked. It was never to be seen again. It was under your mattress
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— KAZUTORA HANEMIYA
So. Second worst boyfriend on the list.
Let's be honest, if your love language is quality time this won't work
Not that he won't want to spend time with you, but Juvenile? Sorry baby, they stole him from you
Kazutora loves you so much. He'd kill for you, and he'll die for you. No questions asked. He once even tried to break out from Juvenile because he couldn't take being far away from you anymore.
You visit him every day for as long as you can, bringing him gifts, telling stories, saying how much you miss him
But sometimes you wondered, does he love you?
"Baby!" A happy Kazutora exclaimed when you finally entered the meeting room and waited for you with a happy smile to sit down, on the opposite side of him, thick glass keeping you both separate.
"Hey, baby." You chuckled, adjusting in your seat.
It wasn't a lie how excited he was every day to see you. Sometimes, like today, he'd make you small diy gifts and show them off to you, explaining every minor detail from the inspiration, materials, hidden message, time taken, everything
And you kept them all on a special separate shelf in your room
"So that's my gift for you today! Do you like it?"
"I love it, 'Tora."
It was a small origami rose, which was actually very well made, considering he had to use his imagination
You both talk for a few moments before the chattering died down. You knew what that meant and quickly wiped the already falling tears
You hated this
You hated how close yet how far he was from you
You just wanted to break the damn glass and embrace him, never letting go
And he damn well knows he wants it too
But he can't, and neither can you
He was recently taken in, 3 years ago
Which means he'll be out in 7 years
Which felt like a lifetime for both of you
His biggest fear was you'd find someone new and leave him
Which he wouldn't even be mad about, considering he just ruined both your lives
But you stay consistent, you visit every single day, and even if you don't manage to, you always send him gifts and make up for it when you see each other.
But people's patience runs out at some point, and that point is today
You never meant to say this
You never meant to question his love for you because you both knew it was there and growing every passing day
So why did you ask? Was it the loneliness you felt every time you stepped out of the room and he wasn't there by your side? Was it the thrust to just be able to hold his hand? Was it the pain you felt every night where, instead of saying goodnight to him, you turned to a frame with a photo of him and said it to it?
You didn't know. He didn't know
The only thing you remember after that was the sound of glass shattering, alarms going off, and Kazutora hugging onto you as if it was your last minute on Earth.
You just cling to him, never wanting to let go again
You felt the tears fall when he kissed you, feeling all his love attack you in that one moment before the guards arrived and took him away
Your little moment lasted around 10 seconds, probably even less, but it felt like eternity to both of you
Visits were banned for a week until they changed the glass into an even more thick and unbreakable one
You dashed to the building the second they opened visiting hours again
And to be fair, even if that cost him 4 more months in juvenile, it was worth it when you finally managed to continue with your lives after his sentence
+ Your younger son thought it was funny while your older daughter cried her eyes out. I think you have 3 kids instead of two.
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— MANJIRO SANO
Ah, yes. Our favorite dark impulse.
Listen, Mikey has to have FULL trust in you to even think about dating you. We're talking about Draken type of trust, if possible even more.
If Mikey falls for you, he will hit like fucking bedrock
If you don't reciprocate his feelings, he'd be hurt, but if you do, you're stuck for life
Mikey loves hard, and it's been proven so many times
It's the same as Kazutora. He'd kill for you.
Don't make him prove it. Just don't. You know, he knows, and everybody knows Mikey will do anything for you
So why ever question it?
You loved Manjiro, and he loved you. It was way too obvious to the point Emma already planned your whole future together
You knew that, but you always had this 'what it' thought in the back of your head, messing with you and you hated it
It was a normal afternoon. You were out with Mikey, just roaming around the city, eating at restaurants where they don't have flags so you brought your home-made ones, and spending way too much money on things you don't need
It was fun and all, just spending time together until he got a message from Draken which quickly brought him to his senses
He didn't want to leave you, but he had, so with a quick kiss on the lips he was off
You waved him goodbye with a smile and called up Emma and the girl just magically teleported to you in 10 minutes
She just loves you too much
Probably fought with Mikey for your hand at some point
You were having a blast with her until you both finally settled down at a café and talked about, just, anything and everything
You decided to share your thought with Emma and she quickly jumped, reassuring you that Mikey loved you with all his hesrt
She started showing you messages he's sent her about how he felt, what to get you and all sorts of things
But our beautiful Emma had her own 'what if' thought and when Mikey got home she instantly jumped on him
It was like, 1am when you heard his bike's engine roaring from outside your window. You got up and were met with a smiling Mikey and no more sleep for tonight
"Wake up, sleepy head. We need to talk."
The moment you got down to him, you were already zooming through the streets of Tokyo, but not in a racer-fast manner, just enought so you aren't like slugs on the roads
"Emma told me that—"
"I'm sorry, Mikey... I didn't mean to—"
"Please let me finish."
He talked for like, a whole ass hour. About everything that includes you both.
He brought you to tears ngl
His words just hit so deep that the thought immediately disappeared
Maybe it was he words of affirmation he used, the quality time he spend riding all night with you to ease your worries, the gift he gave you when you watched the sunrise and the fact you woke up in your bed later on with a small letter from him and a chibi drawing of both of you at the corner that kept a smile on your face till the end of you days
And you damn well know you lived one long ass life with Manjiro
And I'm kinda surprised to be honest
Not because you could've died while he was in Toman or anything, but because your kid is 3 times worse than Mikey.
+ Your son found his old gang uniform and wore it to school. The next teacher-parent conference was one hell of a trip.
791 notes · View notes
darkbluekies · 1 year
Note
I'M A SILAS SIMP!!! Can we get a date with him? Like a cute date and we get scared cause maybe we're falling in love with him pleeeease
My Valentine<3
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Mafia!yandere x reader Valentine's special
Summary: Silas hates Valentine’s, but this year, he's going to spoil you. You find yourself actually enjoying his love and start to question if you really hate him.
Warnings: a bit of nudity (not sexual), kissing, Stockholm syndrome
Word count: 1.8k
Valentine’s day. Normally Silas absolutely despises this day. It’s just a cringy holiday to make people try to believe in love that doesn’t exist. This year though, he plans to go all out! It’s his first Valentine’s day with you, his little darling! He wants you to loosen up and see how much he really cares for you. He has everything planned. First you’ll go to a nice restaurant and eat dinner then to a hotel for some ultimate luxury.
He’s got you a cute outfit for you to wear today. He hopes that it’s going to make you feel a bit happier about today. He knows that you don’t want to go anywhere with him. 
“Here you go, pretty”, Silas smiles and places down a paper bag on the bed. “Dress yourself. I have big plans for today.”
“I’m not in the mood …”, you mumble without looking at him. 
“I think you will be. Look in the bag, baby.”
The curiosity takes control and you sneak a look into the bag. Red clothing and new shoes. 
“Put those on”, Silas smirks. “I think you’ll look really good.”
He sinks down in his armchair, spreads his legs and leans back to watch you. You get up from bed and lift up the new clothes you’ve gotten, feeling it in your hands. 
“Are you going to watch me?” you ask quietly. 
“Of course”, Silas smiles, eyes darker than the darkest night. “It’s Valentine’s day … let me enjoy it as much as I can.”
You roll your eyes. “Do you want me to give you a show, mister? Is that it?”
“I mean, I’d love to-”
You grab the pillow and throw it at his face. Silas chuckles and hugs the soft thing, leaning his head back at the wall. You keep your eyes glared at him as you change clothes. Silas will never get enough of seeing your body. It feels like he’s getting blinded by your beauty everytime he sees you. You signal for him that he can stop staring, that you’re done dressing yourself now. 
“Wow”, he breathes and walks over to you. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I’m so happy to have you, I hope you know that.”
His hands hold your waist in a tight grip. 
“You look perfect, my love”, he whispers. “Let’s go now. We’ll have so much fun.”
He holds his arm around your waist as he leads you down to the car. His chauffeur opens the door for the two of you and Silas tells him to stop looking at you. The chauffeur apologies when he realizes that he’s been looking at you a bit too long. Silas holds your hand on the car ride, kissing the skin over and over again. You keep your eyes out the window, hating the way you actually feel a bit warm inside. You blame it on the day.
“Can you please look at me?” Silas begs. “I want to see your pretty eyes.”
You glance over at him and he smiles. 
“There we go”, he cooes. “Do you know where we’re going?”
“No”, you answer truthfully. “And it’s kind of freaking me out …”
“Don’t be scared, beautiful. Everything today is in your favor. You will love everything I’ve prepared for you.” He seems to become alert. “Oh, we’re here. Driver, stay here.”
Silas opens the door and pulls you out on the sidewalk. You look around and finds the sign of a fancy restaurant in front of you. With a gasp, you cover your mouth. 
“I know how you’ve been dreaming about eating here”, Silas says and takes your hand in his. “And now I’m going to grant you your wish.”
You take another look towards the restaurant. The lights look dim and there doesn’t seem to be any people inside. if there’s a day a restaurant should be full, it is Valentine’s … 
“It looks empty, Silas”, you say. “I don’t think it’s open.”
“Silly thing, I’ve booked it for us”, Silas chuckles. “I can’t stand watching other people look at you. I had to get the entire restaurant for myself so I can have you all to myself too. Let’s go inside and get some dinner.”
Silas opens the door and leads you inside. The staff start to welcome you and show you the table they’ve prepared for you. You think that they seem a bit tense and you can’t blame them. Silas temper and occupation is enough to cause a whole city to leave in panic. 
You sit down in front of him with your hands in your lap. A waiter comes to give you the menus and you notice that yours doesn’t have any prices listed in it. 
“How am i supposed to know what things cost if I can’t see it?” you ask. 
“That’s the thing, Y/N, you shouldn’t see”, Silas says with a fond smile. “Choose whatever you want. Don’t think of the price, just pick what you think is yummy, okay?”
“Are you sure?”
“I took you here, didn’t I? Choose whatever you want, little thing.”
You look through the menu as if your life depends on it, afraid to choose the wrong thing. The chances of coming back here might be slim. Finally, after almost ten minutes of intense reading, you end up with salmon. Silas smiles and tells you that you made a good choice. In this dim light, he almost looks sweet. Of course, he chooses steak.
“Are you happy to be out?” Silas asks when the waiters have taken your orders.  
You nod hesitantly without looking at him. Silas smiles and leans over the table to take your hand in his. The grip is gentle.
“I’ve never celebrated valentine’s day before”, he admits and smiles sheepishly. “I thought it was stupid. But not anymore. Not if it is with you. I’ll spoil you, baby, as if every day was valentine’s day. I’ll worship you and treat you like royalty. I love you, so so much.”
You squirm in your seat at his words. Normally, every syllable feels like spiders crawling down your skin. You wish he didn’t say these things, you never know what to respond. But today, instead of spiders, it feels like electricity. It makes you freeze with realization. No …
“What’s wrong, baby?” Silas asks with furrowed brows. “Are you feeling well?”
You meet his dark, worried eyes and feel your heart skipping a beat. 
“Yes, I’m okay”, you say quietly.
“If you don’t feel well, we can go straight back home.”
You shake your head quickly and decide to change the subject. 
“Can’t you tell me about yourself for once?” you ask. “You always want to know about me. I want to know about your life.”
“My life? Like what?”
“You certainly didn’t want to be a criminal when you were a kid. What was your original dream?”
SIlas smiles shyly and scratches the back of his neck. “A truck driver.”
“Truck driver?”
“I liked cars. But then I started hanging out with the wrong kinds of people and now I’m here. I’m not mad about it though. I have more money than I ever could have gotten being a truck driver.”
“Money isn’t everything. Not when you’re harming people.”
“I punish people who are cruel to me. If people didn’t bother me, I’d not kill them. But they don’t get that easy memo.” Silas smiles. “Enough about that. I don’t want to talk about work on this fine day.”
The food comes before you have time to ask him something else. You dig in. The food melts in your mouth and you wonder if you’ve got a taste of heaven. 
“Is it good, baby?” Silas asks and takes a sip of his crimson wine. “Do you like it?”
You nod. 
"Let's say we travel one day", Silas says. "Where would you like to go?"
"Somewhere warm probably", you say. "Or to the mountains. Either really warm or really cold."
"Interesting … I'll remember that."
The dessert is a strawberry ice cream with hot chocolate sauce.
Silas doesn't let you see the bill and when you ask him about it, he just smiles at you. Gently, he guides you back to the car where the driver is watching a movie on the monitor inside.
"Stop watching garbage while working", Silas says. "Otherwise I'll spoil the movie for you. I swear, I'll do it."
The driver apologizes quickly and turns on the engine. 
"Where are we going?" you ask.
"The grand hotel", Silas smirks. "I've booked the best suite they have.”
Silas’s grip on your hand is tighter than before when you step out in front of the grand hotel. You understand why. The hotel is filled with people, potential threats. Silas practically drags you with him to the lobby. The poor receptionist is trembling when Silas speaks to her. She never looks at you.
"Come with me", a man smiles. "I'll show you to your suite."
Silas thanks him and pulls you with him through the marvelous lobby, over to the elevator. The man chats with Silas and you notice how he’s trying to not sound frightened, but his body language exposes him. 
The room is bigger than you could ever have anticipated. You look around with big eyes. Silas captures you in a backhug, kissing your cheek. Once again, you’re filled with warmth. Terrified, you freeze. You shouldn’t fall for him. You really shouldn’t. But … it is Valentine’s day after all. If there’s one day a year to give in and be in love, it’s today. You turn around in his embrace and look at his lips, hesitating, contemplating. You’ve never taken the initiative before and you have a feeling you will regret it, but you really want to. Maybe you’ve gone insane. Maybe you’ve gotten manipulated, but oh, how much you want to kiss him. 
“Do you want to kiss me?” Silas smirks. “Is that why you’re staring at my lips?”
“I think so”, you say. 
Before you can react, he’s crashed his lips against yours. You gasp as all the air knocks out of your lungs. His kisses are rough and dominant, but his hold of you is sweet and gentle. He’s sucking the air out of you in a hypnotizing way that leaves you wanting more. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. 
“Y/N, Y/N”, Silas pants and pulls back from you. “Patience. I have more planned. You can’t break my mind yet.”
You whine slightly as he withdraws his lips from you. Now that you’ve finally let loose, why does he have to stop you? He chuckles and pulls you to the bathroom. The bath is already prepared for the two of you with bath bombs, bubbles and champagne. 
“Here is some chocolate”, Silas says and holds up a box. “What do you say? Should we take a bath?”
You nod. A few minutes later, you both sink down into the hot water. Your not sure if it's the water embracing you or Silas hugging you, but frankly, you don't care. Not now. Silas give you one of the champagne filled glasses. You clink the glasses together and gulp it down. Silas pulls you close to him and lets you lean on his chest. You can feel his heart beat through his muscles. For once, it feels human.
“Isn't this nice?” he whispers and you can hear the skft smile in his voice. “So relaxing.”
You nod and close your eyes. Maybe being with Silas isn’t too bad afterall. Despite his cold outer, he can be a quite romantic person on the inside ...
1K notes · View notes
phoward89 · 2 months
Text
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Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics
Based on this ask
I'm sorry in advance for murdering your feels with this sad, angsty, heartbreaking story.
Anyways....have fun reading
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Heartless
Pt 1
You loved your boyfriend, Coriolanus. Maybe you even loved him too much. So when you discovered the truth about him…
Well…it devastated you.
It broke your heart into a million pieces.
On the day that you made a life changing discovery, one that was supposed to be happy, you got a reality check that gave you whiplash so hard that you didn't know what was what anymore.
After your doctor's appointment you went home to the penthouse that you shared with Coriolanus and his grandmother, Grandma’am. His cousin, Tigris, had moved out a little while back; she lives in a condo above her boutique now.
When you entered the penthouse, you saw that Ma Plinth was sitting, waiting for you, with a little platter of ginger cookies on the glass coffee table. “How was your appointment? I hope you're feeling better.” The mother of your late friend, Sejanus, warmly remarked.
“My appointment went well; I'm feeling better now too.” You kindly smiled at the middle-aged woman who reminded you so much of her son with her kind smile. “Thank you for watching Grandma’am. Coriolanus doesn't like her to be alone too much and I just had to get to my appointment.” You gratefully told her while making your way over to the coffee table to grab a cookie.
Ma Plinth stood up, only to gesture to a brown paper wrapped package on the table. “A package arrived while you were gone.”
You grabbed a cookie.l, taking a small nibble off it. “Oh, thank you for bringing it in. I'll put it in Coryo's study for him.”
“Oh, Y/N, it's not for him. It's addressed to you.” The dark-haired woman informed you before waving goodbye and showing herself out.
You had a package?That's odd. You never get packages or mail in general.
Everything gets sent to Coriolanus since he has all the bills and the house registered under his name.
You were curious about the package, so you put your cookie down on the tray and picked up the brown parcel.
You read your name and address on the package, but the space for a return address was left blank. You thought that was odd, but shrugged it off.
Curiosity got the better of you; you opened the parcel only to find a letter and a tape. An audio tape.
You unfolded the letter and read it.
Miss Halvir,
I'm writing you this letter because your dear Mr. Snow is not the man you believe him to be.
He is not a man that takes his…say…oaths and promises seriously. He is a heartless man incapable of feelings.
Most of all love. I know you believe him to love you, but listen to me when I say, my dear, that he does not in fact love you.
Coriolanus Snow is cut from the same cloth as his father. A cold, callous man that sees order as a way to balance the wildness of the world.
He sees all the world as an arena with two types of people in it.
Victors and the unfortunate souls that are not strong enough to survive and become a victor.
You, girl, are no victor, but he is.
Coriolanus Snow is.
And he will do anything to get ahead in this world. Including selling out his only friend. His best friend. One Sejanus Plinth.
In this package I have placed a copy of the recording that was played during Private Plinth’s date with the noose. Please listen to it in private.
It will shed some light on the man you falsely believe to love you.
I would hate for something to happen to you, like it did poor Sejanus Plinth, because of misplaced trust in one Coriolanus Snow.
Your hands shook as you put the letter down.
I'mYou couldn't believe what you just read.
It couldn't be true. It just couldn't be.
You worried your bottom lip, turning the small audio tape over and over in your hand. You were scared to hear what was on it.
But you knew that you had to listen to it. So, you went over to the stereo, but it in, and pressed play.
What you heard on that tape made your heart stop. Every word exchanged between Sejanus and Coryo made you sick. The dead boy trusted the blonde, only to be secretly recorded and betrayed by him.
It was too much to handle.
If Coriolanus could do that to sweet Sejanus then what could he do to you?
You knew what you had to do. You couldn't stay with him; you had to pack your bags and go back to your mother's apartment. At least you'd be safe back home with your mother; safety's all that matters right now.
You can ignore that shattering pain of your heart breaking as long as your safe.
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“Darling, I made reservations for dinner tonight at the Capitol Grille for 7.” You heard Coriolanus call out to you from the foyer as you finished packing the last of your things in your bags.
Well, the Capitol Grille was a very high end steak house where the menus didn't have price tags printed on them. It was also a place that you needed to put in a reservation ahead of time; somebody just couldn't walk in or call same day to get a table.
People waited weeks, sometimes even months for a table. Hmph, and knowing that Coryo's using Strabo Plinth’s money to snag a table and eat a 3 course meal that cost more then most people's pay in the districts disgusted you.
Oh god. The way he got the Plinths family fortune made you want to run away from him and never look back.
Main reason why you were zipping up your bag whenever Coriolanus entered you- no his bedroom.
“Darling why don't you wear-” He began to say, only to stop mid sentence and ask, “Going somewhere?”
“Yea.” You nodded. “I'm moving back in with my mother.” You looked up from your bag, only to see the platinum blonde arching a puzzled brow at you.
“Why're you going down to the 8th floor? Is she sick” Coriolanus couldn't help, but think that all your mother's chain smoking had finally gotten to her.
Yes, Coriolanus smokes socially; even has cigars with the high power playing politicians during certain events and dinners, but it wasn't anything that's damaging to his health.
Hell, he thinks breathing in all the chemicals in Dr. Gual’s lab’ll destroy his lungs first.
“I can't be with you anymore, Coriolanus. I'm breaking up with you; moving back home.”
“WHAT?!” The platinum blondr shouted so loud that you thought your eardrums busted.
Slinging you duffel over your shoulder and grabbing the handle to your rolling suitcase, you simply told him, “You heard me. I’m leaving you.”
His icy blue eyes flashed with anger and a hint of something else as he stormed over to you. “You're not going anywhere, Y/N.” He ordered, grabbing your suitcase out of your hand.
You yanked your suitcase, trying to snatch it away from him. “Give it back, Coriolanus. I need it “
“You don't need it because you're not leaving.” The cold hearted man that you once believed was capable of loving you said while slinging your suitcase across the room. “Now behave and get dressed. I got reservations for us at-” began pulling the strap of your duffel off of your shoulder l, only for you to snatch the bag back and interrupt him with, “I'm not going to dinner with you tonight or any other night. Not anymore, Coriolanus.” Feeling yourself ready to cry, you started walking away from him.
As long as you didn't look at him you'd be fine.
“We're done. Just go find something else you can pretend to love.” You remarked, walking out of the bedroom.
You made it roughly 3 feet down the hall, only to hear the heavy footfalls of your ex’s black floor shines echoing against the marble floor. Coriolanus stopped you dead in your tracks when he grabbed your upper arm. Spinning you around to look at him, he made to sell you the charming lie of, “Y/N, after being together since our Academy day, I'm not pretending to love you. I do love you.”
Shaking your head, you let out a tiny cackle of, “You're so full of shit. You know that?” You snapped your arm, causing his hold on it to break. Your fingers tightly clutched the strap of your duffel bag as you revealed, ‘I know what you did to sweet Sejanus and how you're exhorting his wall meaning parents.”
His baby blues turned into saucers. For once, the stoic and well masked man looked like he was frazzled.
Looks like you caught him off guard; you confronted him with truths he didn't want to share with you.
Coriolanus reached out for you, but you took two large steps back. Running a hand thru his hair, the platinum blonde looked at you as if you chucked his car out of the penthouse window. “I don't know what you think I did, darling, but let me explain everything.” His tone was dripping with a fake promise.
You knew that he wouldn't tell you the truth. He'd just tell you another one of his lies.
Heartless bastard.
And to think that you wasted nearly 5 years with his ass. You've been by his side since you were 16 years old, only to find out now that everything was a lie.
He never loved you. He never cared.
Hell, the only reason Coriolanus is with you is because the songbird went missing.
Yea…
Now you're thinking that the friendly act he was putting on with his tribute, Lucy Gray, wasn't an act at all. Now you realize he was cheating on you with her and you were too damn stupid to see it.
And to think that you faithfully wrote him and called him when he was a peacekeeper stationed in 12.
You should've listened to your mother and gone out with Sejanus instead. Maybe if you would've accepted his advance he'd still be alive..your friend wouldn't have followed the devil out to District 12 only to be betrayed and sent to the noose.
Too late now. What's done’s done.
But you do wish that you didn't fall in love with somebody who can never love you. Someone so evil.
So heartless.
“Nothing you say to me’s going to make me stay with you, Coriolanus.”
“Can you stop calling me Coriolanus and call me Coryo, like you always do?” Coriolanus asked with a pitiful look in his eyes. You're positive it's fake since he's incapable of feeling anything, other than hate and greed.
“I got a package in the mail today addressed to me; inside was the tape that you recorded of Sejanus. The one that got him hanged.”
Coriolanus' breath caught in his throat and his palms began to sweat. How did somebody send you the copy? He thought that only Dr. Gual has access to that.
She wouldn't send it to you. In fact, she keeps her records well under lock and key; would never part with them.
Looks like one of the interns he replaced in Dr. Gaul's lab is out to make his life hell because he took their coveted internship.
Coriolanus know that he had to calm you down; get you to put your bag down and get changed into a nice dress so he could take you out for dinner.
Damnit, he had something special planned, even got permission from Dr. Gaul to leave the lab early, so you needed to stop looking at him like a monster. He needed you to look at him with love again and quick, otherwise his dinner plans are going to go up in smoke.
“Y/N, I know you think that I betrayed Sejanus, but I didn't. I meant for the tape to reach Strabo, so that he could buy Sejanus an honorable discharge, but it didn't happen that way. The tape was never given to Strabo, it was used as evidence against our friend instead.” Coriolanus told you, foolishly thinking that you'd believe his twisted half truth. Well, they say the best lies are half truths.
Your nostrils flared angrily at hearing the snake in front of you call Sejanus his friend. Sejanus was your friend, not his. Coriolanus wasn't able to have real friends because he couldn't love anything.
Well the only things he loved were money and power, but that didn't count because those aren't people. Those are objects; possessions.
Before you could blink, you slapped Coriolanus across his smooth shaven cheek. “You don't get to call him your friend. Not after you got him killed.”
“You think I'm not haunted by that? That I don't have nightmares of Sejanus screaming out for his Ma; the mockingjays perched on the hanging tree repeating his frightened last cries before flying away?” Coriolanus rhetorically asked, only to give the false confession of, “I broke down crying at my bunk after helplessly watching my brother die, so don't stand here and tell me that I'm not sorry or that I killed my best friend on purpose because I didn't.”
“Oh, Coriolanus l, don't go there. I know for a fact you sleep like a baby every night.” You scoffed.
Shaking your head, you spun round and stormed down the hall.
Coriolanus was hot on your heels. His velvety words of, “Please, darling, don't be rash. Don't throw away 5 years over a tape you received in the mail.”
“I'm not throwing anything away, Coriolanus. As it turns out, those 5 years were all an act for you.” You stormed right into the main room and over to the foyer. Looking at him from over your shoulder as you reached the door, you gave him the famous last words of, “I’m glad I found out you’re heartless; will never love me before when there's still time to get away from you.”
Coriolanus just stared at the door after you slammed it shut. His anger was festering in his chest; he wanted to kill whoever sent you that tape.
Damnit!
There goes his plans for tonight.
He better call the restaurant and cancel the reservation; call up Tigris and let her know that he doesn't need her to stay with Grandma’am tonight because he's not taking Y/N out for dinner anymore.
Looks like he's stuck ordering something in for him and Grandma'am. He wonders if he should give her back that heirloom ring of hers or if he should just keep it; shove it to the back of his sock drawer.
Grandma’am is old and her memory’s started to fade; if he tries to give her the ring back it might put her into one of her nonsense ramblings.
No, he'll keep the ring.
He'll give you some time to cool off; then he'll shower you with jewelry and roses to soften you up.
Once you were softened up, he'd talk some sense into you. Get you to come home.
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If you thought that breaking up with Coriolanus Snow would be easy, well, you were wrong. It was the hardest thing you did in your entire life.
And you know why?
Because he wouldn't leave you alone.
Well, he left you alone for the first couple of days, but after that he started sending flowers and gifts. No, not flowers and gifts. Roses and jewelry.
You never accepted them. You always tossed the roses in the trash and gave the packages of jewelry to the desk clerk with the instructions to give them to Coriolanus Snow.
You'd think he'd get the hint and stop.
Well, he didn't.
Instead, the floral arranged for larger and the jewelry kept coming back. Hell, he even went so far as giving you a copy of an ancient Pre-Panem book. A book from an ancient author that you loved.
Jane Austen.
You mother told you to burn the book, but you couldn't do that. It's be a sin to destroy such a work of art.
So, that was the only gift you kept.
But in doing so, you opened the Pandora’s box that was Coriolanus Snow's delusions. He thought that you were ready to see him again because you accepted a book, so he would come by your mother's every night looking to see you.
You always hid in your old child bedroom while your mother showed him away.
After 4 weeks of this insane behavior, your mother told you that she was concerned for your safety. That she felt you never to leave the Capitol for a while. Stay with your brother Rein, who was a peacekeeper that just received an officer’s commission in District 12.
Honestly, you didn't want to leave the Capitol. The Capitol was your home, but you knew that if you stayed then things would get ugly for you. Especially when it concerns Coriolanus.
You knew that Coriolanus would never look for you in District 12. He'd just write you off as a girl he lost control of and just find himself another Capitol bimbo to manipulate and control with false words of love.
So, that's why you were currently stepping off of the train in District 12.
Your brother was standing on the platform, eager awaiting your arrival in his officer’s uniform. When he spotted you, he quickly made his way over to your side and greeted you with a hug.
Reaching for your suitcase, he chuckled, “Let me take that for you, sis.”
“I see becoming an officer's turned you into a gentleman.” You teased Rein as he room your suitcase from you; leading you away from the platform.
“Mother told me your ex is stalking you with roses and jewelry.” Of course she did. Looking between you and a Jeep in the distance, your brother asked, “Does he know about the baby?”
“No.” And you're glad you received that tape after you came home from your doctor's appointment, confirming your suspicions. If not then you'd be trapped with that heartless monster.
“He’s just been sending me that stuff in an attempt to manipulate me back into his arms.
“I'm sorry things didn't work out, but you're more then welcome to stay with me in my apartment on base for as long as you need to.”
Your brother's words meant a lot to you. At least you had somebody to protect you from your ex.
Protect the both of you since you were going to become a mother in nearly 7 months.
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Coriolanus walked into Dr. Gaul’s lab with a dead look in his icy blue eyes. It made Dr. Gaul gleeful. It was better then the cold look he had when he returned from his summer vacation as a peacekeeper.
Oh, this time the look in his eyes held so much hate that she doubts anything could ever soften his irises. It was marvelous, really, how the mad scientist molded her protege into a hateful man. Into, well, her best experiment.
But Dr. Gaul knew that there was a chance all of her hard work turning Snow as cold as his namesake could be ruined by you. Well, not you per say, but the creature you were incubating.
Coriolanus Snow wasn't old enough, cold enough, and calloused enough yet to enter fatherhood. He was too young and might grow soft at becoming a father.
A year under her tutelage wasn't long enough to ensure that he wouldn't slip back into a weaker mindset once a crying, shriveling, pink creature that was half him and half you popped into the world.
Dr. Gaul knew that she had to break every part of Coriolanus in order to piece him together into the war mongrel leader she wanted to run the country. You were that small shred of good that latched onto him, kept him from fully drowning in the darkness. A child, your child, might make Coriolanus see the world through a different lense.
Now, she couldn't have that. That would ruin everything.
So, when her contacts at the OBGYN office told her about your appointment and your condition, she sent you a little care package.
Her star student never figured out.that she sent it, instead he blamed the intern who lost his spot to him. The mad scientist even helped Coriolanus test a deadly mutt of the innocent soul who he thought did him wrong. All because Coriolanus’ proposal plans where ruined.
Oops…
Dr. Gaul grinned evilly as she read the latest report from her spies. You were now in District 12 living with your brother on the Peacekeeper base.
Well, looks like it's time for a new game change when it comes to the Hunger Games.
Dr. Gaul decided that even children born on peacekeeper bases would be considered district citizens and would be legally obligated to enter their names into the game's lotto style drawing.
Unless a child between the ages of 12 and 18 is a Capitol citizen living in the Capitol, they will be registered for the games. Living on a Peacekeeper’s.base will not over safety to any child I'm the districts.
Not anymore.
Hopefully your child, fathered by Coriolanus, will never have their name picked for the games.
But as long as Dr. Gaul's alive, shaping Coriolanus like a potter shapes clay, anything's possible.
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Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons , @qoopeeya , @mfnqueen1
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stevie-petey · 6 months
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episode two: the weirdo on maple street
Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp. “Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your review sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”
summary: you use your limited psych knowledge to help a bald girl, you force jonathan to accept $20 and he's later an ass to you, steve doesn't know what a "missing" poster looks like, and it's really hard being a single mother to now four kids.
rating: general, but there's cursing as usual and steve being... well, steve - but hes still season 1 steve so give him some time
warnings: cursing, fem!reader, use of y/n, and there's more angst in this chapter with some fighting between reader and jonathan, so fair warning.
words: 10.1k (the longest thing ive ever written)
before you swing in: i'm almost done with chapter 4, so here's a sweet treat as i cram for exams lmao. some housekeeping: should i do a tag list ? i got a few questions about it, so pls let me know soldiers. also, i feel the need to clarify that i adore nancy but for plot reasons - reader and her don't really get along (but they def will later, trust me). season 1 nancy and steve are just so silly. anyways, i hope y'all enjoy this loooong chapter. the rest definitely aren't as lengthy due to plot, but wow. i amazed myself. carry on !
-
Your jeans drip onto the Wheeler’s carpet, and you’ve definitely left a wet imprint on the couch cushion beneath you. The other boys are dripping as well, but all their attention is on the girl in front of them. 
After finding her in the woods, your motherly instincts kicked in, immediately removing your coat to place on her and gently ushering her to your bike and demanding that the boys go back to Mike’s. Your mom is home, so your house was out of the question, and it’s always been easy sneaking into the Wheeler’s, anyways. 
Once you all had made it back, you guided the girl onto the couch and sat next to her. You refuse to let her go too far from you, having no idea where she came from or why, but regardless you know she’s too young for any of it to have been good. 
Which leads you to now: wearily watching the boys stare at the girl as if she’s some science experiment, asking her a million questions a second.
Bless them and their little prepubescent minds. 
Lucas reaches out to touch her, and before you can nudge him away, Mike slaps at his hand. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”
“She’s freaking me out!” Lucas retaliates, which honestly? That’s fair. The girl hasn’t said anything yet, even after your multiple attempts to get her to do so. No matter how much you try, you can’t coax a response out of her. 
“I bet she’s deaf.” Your brother offers, suddenly clapping his hands to scare her, making both you and her flinch. “Not deaf…”
You roll your eyes at him. “Guys, she’s probably just really scared right now. We should give her some space,” you look at both Lucas and Dustin, “and time,” now you look at Mike. The three boys deflate a bit. 
“She’s probably cold,” Mike says after a moment of silence, and you nod at his suggestion. Seeing your agreement, he walks over to a basket of clothes and takes out some pajamas.
While Mike is away, thunder rumbles and the girl jumps, unconsciously getting closer to you. You wrap an arm around her reassuringly, making note that she doesn’t like loud noises. If anything, she’s showing more and more signs of trauma response, which makes you uneasy. You remember Hopper saying something about Will being in danger. What are the odds that this little girl was running from something as well?
“Here, these are clean.” Mike’s return breaks you from your thoughts, and you take the clothes from him and stand up. You thank him, then offer your hand to the girl. She looks at you uncertainly. 
“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “Let’s go get you dressed in some warm clothes. I’m right here, sweetheart.” 
“She’s super nice.” Dustin says, trying to help.
Lucas adds, “Yeah, you can trust her.” 
“She’s alright.” Is all Mike offers.
You give them all an appreciative smile, even if Mike is being a bit of an ass, and then you feel a small, cold hand wrap around yours. The girl stands up, looking around shyly, and you lead her to the bathroom. When you go to close the door, she stops you.
Mike has followed, seeing the interaction. “You don’t want it closed?”
Her voice is quiet, solemn. “No,”
You and Mike look at each other, and he voices what you’re thinking. “So you can speak.”
He looks excited about this new information, and you shove his head out of the doorway. She needs to get dressed. “We’ll leave the door cracked, okay?”
She nods at you, and you stand guard outside the door. It’s not that you don’t trust the boys, but Mike has only known her for ten minutes and he’s already been nicer to her than you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. The only other person he’s this soft spoken to is Will, so you’re protective of her. 
You can hear the boys discussing tonight’s events from the living area while the girl gets dressed. They sound scared, and a part of you can’t blame them. While you’re fairly certain that the girl isn’t dangerous, it’s still a creepy situation. Once again, Hopper’s new theory surrounding Will floats through your mind. This all can’t be some coincidence. 
Sighing, you approach the boys and catch a bit of the conversation. 
“Our houses become Alcatraz.” You hear Lucas saying, and you figure they’ve finally pieced together that there’s no way any of you can tell anyone about the girl. None of you were supposed to be out tonight. As much as you know you should tell an adult, you also need to be able to help Jonathan with finding Will. If your mom locks the house down, you’re doomed. 
“Lucas is right,” the boys turn to you. “We can’t go to anyone about this just yet, but I also don’t think it’s a good idea to hide her. She’s been through something terrible, it’s obvious. Tonight, I say she gets some rest. We can figure out what to do later.” 
Mike nods, for once agreeing wholeheartedly with you. “She’ll sleep here tonight-”
Dustin’s eyes widen in horror, “You’re letting a girl-”
You clamp your hand over his mouth, motioning for Mike to continue.
“Thanks, Y/N. In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst,”
They think she’s from Pennhurst? You think, but don’t verbalize it.
“Or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear! And tomorrow night, we go back out, and this time we find Will.”
You gotta hand it to Mike Wheeler, he may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a smart pain in the ass. The plan is pretty sound, so long as he follows through with it. However, it’s him following through with it that leaves you a bit unsure. 
He looks at you for approval, and you hesitantly nod. “It’s a pretty good plan, Wheeler. So long as you stick to it.” 
Lucas and Dustin nod along with you, there’s an unspoken sense of doubt that Mike will actually be able to turn the girl over to his mom. Then she walks out, dressed now in some of Nancy’s old clothes. She draws into herself when you all turn to her, shy. You walk over and offer your hand again, which she accepts. 
“Mike, go find her something to sleep on. Dustin, we gotta go soon before mom notices we’re gone.”
Both boys comply, with Mike searching for a sleeping bag and Dustin packing up his stuff. You crouch down next to the girl, so that you’re face to face, and give her a warm smile. “It was lovely meeting you. My name is Y/N, I hope Mike over there doesn’t give you a hard time tonight.” 
Mike flips you off, having heard you. “If he’s annoying,” you lean in close to her now, whispering in her ear. “You have my permission to pinch him.”
The girl giggles, finally relaxing a bit, and you warm with pride. She’ll be okay, she seems like a very resilient girl and you’ll oddly miss her. 
The two other boys are waiting for you upstairs. You all wish Mrs. Wheeler a good night and head out. Thankfully the rain has now stopped, so the bike ride home isn’t bad. You stop at Lucas’ turn to make sure he gets home safely before finally arriving at your place. As Dustin begins pedaling into your driveway, you don’t follow. 
“I’m going to go see Jonathan, he didn’t answer my calls earlier and I just…”
Dustin waves at you, not even bothering to turn around. “Yeah yeah, go see your boyfriend. If mom asks, you’re asleep.” 
“He’s not my boyfriend-”
“Are you seriously going to argue with me after I offered to cover for you?”
Your brother gives you a pointed look, and you know he’s right. “Touche.” 
Dustin goes to leave, but you quickly grab at his jacket. “Before I forget, swear to me that you’ll keep me updated if anything weird happens, okay?”
He nods at you, knowing better than to argue, and gives you a mock salute as he heads inside. 
The living room light is on when you arrive at the Byers home, despite the late hour, but you aren’t surprised. You knock on the door and wait. When no one comes, you knock again, a bit louder this time. After another few moments, the door swings open. 
Jonathan has a finger over his lips in a shushing manner, motioning to Joyce who is passed out on the couch. You nod, letting him know you understand. The two of you go to his room and when he closes the door, you finally get a good look at him. He looks worse than he did earlier, the bags under his eyes have somehow gotten darker. His hair is a mess, his eyes bloodshot. 
“You’re soaked.” Jonathan says. 
“Yeah,” he doesn’t want to talk about it yet, so you play along. “Got caught in the rain. Are some of my spare clothes still in your bottom drawer?”
He nods at you, going over and grabbing a t-shirt and pajama pants for you. You accept them gratefully and excuse yourself to the bathroom to change. Your bones are cold, the rain seemingly having penetrated the layers of your skin. In the mirror you see that your own eyes are bloodshot; you don’t look much better than Jonathan, really.
When you return Jonathan is sitting on his bed, so you join him. It’s silent between you, all you can hear is his breathing. You stare straight ahead, so does he, and you wait. You’ve only seen Jonathan like this a handful of times, where the stress and anxiety becomes too much for him. He shuts down, draws into himself, and all you can do is wait for him to return to you; he always does. 
“Mom got a call tonight.” Jonathan’s voice is hoarse, and he looks frail. You wonder if he ever did end up making the spaghetti you prepared for him.
“Who was it?”
He swallows heavily, taking a moment to respond. “She said it was Will.”
“Will?” You look at him now, searching for any signs on his face, his voice lacks emotion. By the way he stares blankly ahead, as if he’s not really present with you right now, you know that it hadn’t been Will on the other end. 
“She started freaking out, going ballistic,” his voice cracks a bit, so you take a chance and reach for his hand. He lets you take it, giving you a squeeze, before continuing. “She was screaming, begging whoever it was to give Will back.” 
Jonathan pauses again. You don’t say anything, because no words will help. He’s never been the type for comforting words, anyways. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “It wasn’t him. Lightning struck and our phone got charred. It wasn’t Will.”
Now it’s your turn to squeeze Jonathan’s hand. He doesn’t deserve any of this. None of the Byers do. Out of the entire town, they’re the family who deserves the most that life can give. Will, too good. Jonathan, too selfless. Joyce, too loving. They’re the best damn people you know. 
“I tried calming her down, but she was hysterical. She’s only asleep right now because she worked herself up too much and passed out. I’m worried she-'' Jonathan shakes his head, as if ashamed by his own words. “I’m worried she’s going crazy, Y/N.”
He’s quiet again, but you can tell he’s about to break. His knee is now bouncing up and down and his breathing has become slightly ragged. Everything from today has been building up, it was only a matter of time before he snapped. You’re also worried about Joyce, a part of you skeptical to believe her, but the little girl you found tonight in the rain? Something was definitely weird about Will’s disappearance, but you’re hesitant to tell Jonathan just yet. For all you know, she could’ve simply been a girl who got lost and will be returned to her family tomorrow. 
You don’t want to worry Jonathan any more than you need to.
“I should’ve been there for him. I shouldn’t have taken that shift.” He gasps out, and like a dam the tears begin to fall. You’re quick to pull him into a hug and he crumbles into you. His body shakes with violent sobs and he clutches at you as if afraid you’ll leave.
“You can’t blame yourself.” You whisper, stroking a hand through his hair. He cries even harder, the force of it almost enough to knock you over, so you situate yourself so that you’re fully on the bed, laying against his pillows, with Jonathan crying into your chest beside you. 
“He’s g-gone.”
“We’ll find him, I promise.” Your own tears threaten to come out, but you force them down. You have to be here for him, he needs you. The only other time Jonathan has so openly cried was when Lonnie left years ago. He’s been holding everything in since then, all those years of looking after his family, taking care of his brother, getting harassed by assholes like Tommy Hagan. 
Neither of you say anything else, and you know that Jonathan needs to let it all out. You soothe him as best as you can, running a hand through his hair, stroking his back, reassuring him over and over again that none of this is his fault until your own voice becomes hoarse. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but sometime during the night Jonathan finally falls asleep, and you follow shortly after him. 
— 
Sunlight streams through Jonathan’s spare bed sheet that he’s pinned over his window, serving as a makeshift curtain, waking you up. You stretch, careful not to wake the boy beside you, and crawl out of the bed. You’re antsy, already knowing that today will be another long day. After grabbing some clothes from your designated drawer and getting dressed, you head into the kitchen and start making a quick breakfast. Just as you’re finishing up, Jonathan comes out of his room, dressed and ready for the day.
Neither of you say anything about the night prior, instead silently working around each other in the kitchen with years of practiced ease. He hands you the salt shaker right when you need it, you grab the pieces of toast that he popped into the toaster, the two of you never once get in each other’s way. You get deja vu, remembering all the times you’ve slept over with Dustin, you and Jonathan making the boys breakfast while they slept in. 
The only indication that last night really happened is a forehead kiss from Jonathan, his lips soft against your head. Out of the two of you, you’re definitely the touchy one, so it’s always a nice surprise when he initiates the touch, and his forehead kisses were a welcome rarity. 
When the plates have been made, Joyce gets up from the couch and stumbles over to the table. You quickly help her sit down, and for the first time since Will’s disappearance you’re able to really look at her. She looks like Jonathan, only worse. The bags under her eyes are darker, her hair is more matted, and you believe she’s still wearing the same shirt you saw her in the night that Will went missing. 
“All right, mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan tries to place her plate on the table, but Joyce stops him, worried about the poster of Will. 
Jonathan gives you a look and you run over to the table, grabbing the poster so that he can set the plate down. 
Joyce gives you a tired smile, “Thank you, Y/N, but I can’t eat.”
“I just need you to eat, mom.” 
“Jonathan’s right, Mrs. Byers. You need to eat, we gotta keep your strength up.” You feel like you’re talking to a child, but in a way, you suppose you are. 
The woman lights a cigarette instead, and faintly you wonder how many she’s had within the last 48 hours; you’ll need to wash your clothes when you get home. She begins to ask Jonathan to go to Xerox to make as many copies of Will’s poster as possible. You sit down in front of her, silently eating, knowing there’s no place for you in this conversation. 
It’s not that the Byers are ashamed that they have little money, but you know it’s rude to listen in. They make do with what they have, and Jonathan has never felt embarrassed with you knowing it. 
“I don’t want you to go alone,” Joyce says, causing you to speak up. 
“I’ll go with him and help hang them up, it’s no problem.” 
Jonathan turns to you. “You have that chem test, remember? I’m not letting you miss that.” 
“Shit…” you bury your face into your hands. You completely forgot about that after finding the little girl last night and dealing with Jonathan. You’ve heard about how impossible the chem exams were, and science has never been your best subject. That was Dustin’s thing, your thing was more humanities. 
“You’re the smartest person I know, you’ll ace the exam,” Jonathan reassures you before turning to his mom. “And I’ll handle the posters, it’s okay.” 
Joyce has been lost in thought during your conversation with her son, only beginning to speak again when she’s asked how many copies will be efficient. Once she starts speaking again, it’s almost like she’s physically unable to stop. She begins to ramble, finally exposing the crumbling woman that you’ve only heard about, now understanding Jonathan’s fears for her. 
“Mom-”
“If we… ten cents-”
“Mom!” Jonathan raises his voice a bit, now grabbing at his mother’s hand. “You can’t get like this, okay?”
The look on Joyce’s face kills you. She looks so lost, ashamed of her behavior, and you cast your head down; this is a private matter. Joyce profusely apologizes to him and all Jonathan can do is gently reassure her that it’s okay. All of this is okay. 
Their tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the front door, revealing Hopper on the other side. His presence makes you uneasy, so you stay in the kitchen and begin to clean up with Jonathan while Joyce attacks him with questions. 
“A little bit of trust here, alright? We’ve been searching all night.” You hear the cop say. Your hand clenches the sponge, rubbing a bit harder at the plate you’re cleaning. If they’ve been searching all night, why are they here now?
“Went all the way to Cartersville.” Ever since Will disappeared, you’ve been building a wall of hope within you that he’ll be found safe and sound. However, with every passing day, with every new situation that occurs, you can feel a piece of the wall collapse. You can feel it now; the search party went all the way to Cartersville.
“And?” Joyce asks. 
“Nothing.” The cry that Joyce lets out causes you to drop the plate you’ve been cleaning, shattering on the floor. You curse, immediately bending down to pick up the pieces. Luckily it didn’t shatter into a million bits, but you still feel horrible for breaking one of their dishes. 
Jonathan bends down as well to help, and the commotion catches Hopper’s attention. He sees you scrambling to clean up the mess and sighs with annoyance. “Does she live here or something?” 
You and Jonathan look at each other, a slight smile on your faces, and only respond to Hopper with a synchronized shrug. You basically do live at the Byers’ at this point, you have been for years now. It was the same for Jonathan: if you weren’t at his house, he was at yours. 
Joyce wipes some of her tears away. “Y/N is family, she’s here to help.” 
Hopper ignores this, instead bringing up the phone call from the night before. Joyce leads him over to the phone, and you join them once you’ve collected the remaining pieces of broken glass. When you see the phone, you can’t help but gasp. Jonathan’s words from last night are accurate, the phone is charred. 
“Storm barbecued this pretty good.” Hopper says.
Joyce waves her arms out, disbelieving. “The storm? You’re saying that that’s not… weird?”
“No, it’s weird.” Hopper begins, but you cut him off. 
“It’s really weird.”
He glares at you. You mumble a quick sorry and back away a bit while Jonathan asks if the call can be traced. Hopper focuses back on the situation at hand, informing him that it isn’t possible and then questions if Joyce even heard Will in the first place. The question makes you cringe, knowing it’ll only make Joyce more agitated and hurt.
“Flo said you just heard some breathing.” 
It’s the way he phrases the question, the way he emphasizes the word “just”, that bothers you. This woman has just lost her kid, what kind of mother wouldn’t know her own child’s breathing?
“Even if it was ‘just’ some breathing, I’d know it was my brother. Will is her son, she’d know better than anyone.” You find yourself saying. The words weren’t meant to leave your mouth, but the appreciative look Joyce casts your way outweighs the fear from Hopper’s glare. 
“It was him. It was Will, and he was scared. Then something-”
“It was probably just a prank call,” Hopper tries to reason with her, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You respect the guy, you do, but could he at least attempt to listen to Joyce?
You excuse yourself before you say anything else, heading back into the kitchen to collect the two posters you and Jonathan made. While the others talk, you grab his things and pack his bag for him. You know he’ll probably skip school today to get the copies done in time, maybe keep an eye on his mom, so you make a mental note to inform him later that you’ll help with putting the fliers up the second you’re done with the exam. He needs someone there for him. 
When you’ve grabbed the last of Jonathan’s things, Lonnie’s name is mentioned. You freeze, standing right outside the hall from them, only a wall between you. If Lonnie is somehow involved in this, you’ll kill him yourself. He was always cruel to Will, even when you were around to witness it. You hate him more than anything in this damn world. 
“It’s been long enough, I’m having him checked out.” Hopper declares, storming out of the house. 
You count to three in your head, and the second you get to three, Jonathan is following after Hopper. You knew he would, hating his father the most out of everyone who has had the displeasure of meeting him. You follow behind him, heading outside to talk to the Chief. 
“Hey, Hopper. Let me go.” 
Hopper takes a drag from his cigarette, facing the two of you. “I’m sorry?”
“To Lonnie’s,” Jonathan says, looking at you for backup.
You do your best to try. “If Will’s there, that means he probably ran away. Cops will scare the poor boy, he’ll think he’s in trouble.”
“And he’ll hide. He’s good at hiding.” Jonathan finishes for you. 
Hopper stares at you both, inhaling more smoke from his cigarette and blowing it in your direction with a curious look in his eyes. “You two are sickening to be near, you know that?”
You and Jonathan share an annoyed look. A kid is missing, and you still have to clarify that you aren’t together? “It’s not like that,” Jonathan says.
“Sure, you know cops are good at detecting lies,” Hopper approaches him now, grabbing his shoulders. For a brief second you’re afraid he’ll hurt him. “And we’re also good at finding, okay? Stay here with your mom. She needs you.” 
Hopper punches at Jonathan’s shoulder before facing you. “And you,” you brace for whatever he’s about to say, knowing you probably aren’t his favorite person at the moment. He points at Jonathan, “He needs you.”
His words hang in the air several minutes after he’s gone. You glance at Jonathan, but he doesn’t meet your eye and instead he goes back inside. You sigh, following after him because it’s what you do. Hopper’s right, he needs you. 
Jonathan’s in the living room, speaking softly to his mom when you enter. You don’t disturb them but rather snatch Jonathan’s keys from the counter and wait for him by the door. Like Joyce said, Xerox opens in about thirty minutes and you have a chem exam to take. If you leave now, you’ll be able to make the copies with him and be back in time before school.
The ride to Xerox is tense, you know Jonathan is upset that he’s been sidelined by Hopper. You also know that he’s torn between wanting to help his mom and staying out of his house as much as possible. If it weren’t for your god damn chem test you’d offer to skip and hide out at your place, but you can’t. Jonathan wouldn’t let you risk your future for him (even though you would, in a heartbeat, a million times over). 
The man at Xerox gives Jonathan a look of pity, clearly recognizing Will’s picture on the poster. It’s your favorite photo of him, smiling with all his teeth and happy as can be. From what you’ve heard, the whole town has been conducting search parties for him. Jonathan ignores the look and asks for the 200 copies to be made. 
It’s just you and him in the store as you wait for the prints to be done. The guy said it’d be about a ten minute wait so you wander around the store. Jonathan clearly is in a no talking mood, so you occupy yourself with whatever you find. You wish you’d brought your backpack to Jonathan’s last night so you could at least study a bit while waiting, but you didn’t. It’d be a miracle if you pass this exam. 
Jonathan wanders around as well, so you give a quick look around and find the employee. He’s standing over the printer when you approach. “I’d like to pay for the copies, please.”
“You can pay after they’re done-”
“No, I can’t let him see,” you point over to Jonathan, who is now looking at some stationary. “Please, just let me pay now so he can yell at me later.” 
The guy gives you a shrug, clearly not getting paid enough to care. “Okay, it’ll be $20. Just leave the money on the counter over there, the prints should be done soon.” 
You nod and do as you’re told, leaving the $20 bill on the counter while Jonathan isn’t looking. He can kill you later, right now you want to make up for not being able to help with hanging them up. There’s literally hundreds to get through, he can’t do that all alone. 
When the posters are done and Jonathan collects them, you wish the worker a good day and then wrap your arms around him and use all your strength to drag your friend into the car. He doesn't fight back at first, too confused by your actions, and you’re almost out the door before he sees the man pocket the money and wave at you. The dots connect in his head and Jonathan begins to fight against you. 
“Y/N, let me pay-”
“Nope. Not happening!”
“We both know I’m stronger-”
“Debatable, honestly, seeing as how we’re almost to your car.”
“Let go!” He tugs harshly as his arm, which you’ve got a secure hold on, causing you to stumble a bit. 
You plant your feet more firmly against the ground and use all your weight to pull the boy forward. You’re a few feet away from the car, just one more solid pull should do the trick. “Stop fighting this, Byers. I’ve already paid-”
“Which you shouldn’t have!”
“Keep fighting and drop all the posters, I dare you.”
Jonathan looks down at the posters in his spare hand, realizing that you’re right. If he doesn’t give in soon, they’ll topple over. He lets out an agitated groan, throwing his head back, and then marches over to the car to unlock it and fling himself into the driver’s seat. “Just get in.” 
You do a small victory dance and hop in the car.
“I hate you.” 
“You love me.” 
He hesitates only for a moment. “God, I hate that I do.” 
You smile, buckling your seatbelt. Jonathan pulls out of the parking lot and begins the drive to school. He’s less tense this time, at least. The small little wrestling match between the two of you seemingly did some good, then. 
When you pull up to school, you once again apologize to Jonathan for being unable to help. He waves you off, understanding. 
“It’s okay, I promise. I can’t have you failing out of high school because of me.”
You roll your eyes. “One test won’t make me become a high school dropout, Jonathan.”
He ruffles your hair, which you slap him for. “You can join me after, okay? Good luck, bug.” 
“Fine, but I’m taking some posters with me so I can hang up on my way to my locker.” 
“Deal.”
You run to your locker, flinging it open and letting out a sigh of relief when you spot your chem cards. Honestly, you really should’ve prepared better for your little sleepover at the Byers. You glance at the watch on your wrist, noting that you have roughly fifteen minutes to memorize all the elements in the periodic table as well as some chemistry definitions. 
Just peachy. 
You tie your hair up so you can focus better and grab the note cards. If you review the cards as you walk to class, you can save at least three minutes of studying time. You tuck the few remaining posters of Will under your arm and begin to head to your class, getting absorbed in all the elements and words. As you’re skimming a card about protein being K, you run into Nancy and Barb, who also seem to have the same idea as you.
“Oh, hey Y/N.” Nancy greets you, Barb waving to you as well. 
They’re being nice, so you try to make conversation. “Studying for Kaminsky’s test?”
They nod at you and Nancy sighs, “Yeah, his exams are the worst.”
You laugh a bit, for once on the same page as her. “I know. I spent last night at Jonathan’s, I completely forgot about the test until this morning. I’m screwed.”
Barb raises her eyebrows at you while Nancy suddenly looks sad. “Oh, I’m sorry about Will. I know you and him are close.” 
“Yeah, it must be hard taking care of Jonathan right now.” Barb voices. 
You give them both an awkward smile. “Thanks, I guess? It’s just, there’s still hope, so…” 
The three of you stand there as your voice trails off. It’s painfully awkward. While you’ve known Nancy since you were 12, and at some point you even called her a close friend of yours, the second you entered high school she became distant. You never blamed her for it, people simply grow up and grow apart. Now you only ever interact with her if it concerns the boys. 
Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp.
“Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your cheat sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”
You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”
His friends laugh, but Steve has a bit of heart to look guilty, so you count that as something. His shame doesn’t last long though and the goofy and sweet boy who made sure you were okay after almost hitting you with his car is gone. 
Steve plays off the situation as if it were nothing. “Let me make it up to you, Henderson. I know you’re probably stressed out of your mind dealing with boyfriend troubles because of Bill-”
“His name is Will,” you grit out, remembering now why you dislike Steve so much. Everything was about impressing his friends, and while you can sympathize with him, it doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole. 
“Right, Will. Anyways, I was just about to inform Nance over here that my dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, ya know, she doesn’t trust him.” 
“Good call,” Tommy says, and you glare at him. 
Steve carries on. “So, are you guys in?”
“In for what?” Nancy asks. 
“No parents, a big house?” Carol says, as if Nancy is a giant idiot.
You feel bad for her being treated so poorly by her boyfriend’s friends, so you lean in and whisper, “A party, Nancy.” Then you look at Steve. “And no, I’ll pass.” 
Steve pouts. “Can’t leave loverboy alone for a couple hours?”
You scoff, shoving the poster against his chest, using more force than probably necessary, but the satisfying grunt he lets out pleases you. “If I didn’t know you I’d say you sound jealous. Unfortunately, I do know you, and that’s exactly why I’m not interested.”
“Meow,” says Carol as she and Tommy laugh. 
You ignore her and push past the group to get to class. You’ve wasted enough time, you have to study. Steve lets you, hurt by your words, but tries to play it off, instead focusing his attention on Jonathan up ahead hanging up some posters. You both see him at the same time and as you start to approach him, you hear Steve and his group mock him. 
“God, that’s depressing.” Steve says, and you’ve never wanted to hit a man more than you do right now. 
You glance at Nancy, trying to convey your disappointment in her. She’s a nice girl, she shouldn’t be with an idiot like Harrington. Who the hell makes fun of a guy with a missing brother? Nancy doesn’t meet your eye, which pleases you. She should feel guilty. 
As you near Jonathan, Nancy calls after you to wait up. You listen, mostly because you’re surprised she even followed, and together you walk up to him. “Hey, bee. I thought you’d be long gone by now.” 
Jonathan looks up at your voice, surprised when he sees Nancy next to you. He gives you a look that you conclude is a what is she doing here? look and you can only shrug as if to say I have no clue how I ended up in this situation. 
Nancy doesn’t see this exchange. “Hey,”
“Hey,” Jonathan responds, still confused. 
Nancy looks at you uncertainly, but you refuse to leave. Screw your exam, if she even considers voicing her boyfriend’s opinions to Jonathan then you’ll personally see that she fails alongside you. “I just… I wanted to say, you know… I’m sorry, about everything.” 
Oh, she’s being nice. You’re still unimpressed, but Jonathan motions to you to stop staring her down, so you reluctantly listen. 
“Everyone’s thinking about you.”
You all turn towards Steve and his group, who are clearly listening in, and you snort at her words. “Right, obviously.” 
“Y/N.” Jonathan warns. 
“Sorry.” 
“It sucks.” Nancy continues, and you have to give her some credit. You’re being a blatant bitch, but she’s still trying. You feel a bit bad now, which honestly makes you dislike her a bit more. Damn morals. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid.” 
The bell rings, ending Nancy’s little monologue. “I have to go, chemistry test. Y/N, want to walk together?” 
She really makes it impossible to be a bitch to her. “Sure, just give me a second.”
You lean close to Jonathan and lower your voice. “Good luck with your dad, bee.” 
“How did you know I’d go-”
“Because of course you would. Now go, give him hell for me, will ya?”
Jonathan nods, relieved you aren’t pushing the topic. You know that Lonnie is a sore topic for him, for the entire Byers family, really. You only knew Lonnie for a year or so before Joyce left him, but you’ll never forget his spiteful words and the bruises that Jonathan tried to hide from you. He needs to do this alone, father and son. 
You see Nancy watching, and just to spite her you kiss Jonathan’s cheek, relishing in the fact that she looks away, and you wish him luck once again before following her to class. 
The test isn’t as bad as you’d feared, and the rest of the day goes by with relative ease. You don’t see much of Steve and his group and you’re thankful for that. Nancy also keeps her distance, no longer attempting to be all buddy buddy with you. A part of you feels bad about that, because honestly the thought of someone thinking you hate them makes you feel physically ill, but as long as Nancy is with someone like Steve, there’s not much you can do about that. 
After school you stop by all of Jonathan’s classes and collect the work he’s missed over the last few days; he has enough to worry about, so you figured you could help do some assignments for him. It’s nothing unusual, truth to be told. There was a time you were out for two weeks straight due to the flu one year and Jonathan did every one of your assignments, so it’s about time you returned the favor. 
Once you have what you need, you hang up the remaining flyers in your bag and begin your journey to work. You’ve used up all of your sick days helping the Byers, and while Mrs. Waters has insisted on letting you have more time off, you figured the distraction would be good for you. Jonathan will want some space after confronting his dad, and as much as you hated Lonnie, something told you he had nothing to do with Will. 
Just when your shift is almost done, your coworker, this young kid named Alex who you’re honestly surprised can legally work, informs you that your mom is on the phone and wants to speak with you. You stack the remaining books in your hands and thank him, walking over to pick up the call.
“Hey, mom. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine, sweetie! I was just calling to tell ya that Dusty is at the Wheeler’s tonight for dinner, so my plan for ribs won’t work without him. I was wondering if darling Johnny could feed you tonight? I know the two of you have that little sneaky food game.” 
Your posture, once slumped over and uninterested, now straightens out. Why the hell is Dustin having dinner at the Wheeler’s? They never do that. “Uh, sure mom that won’t be an issue.”
Your mom lets out a sigh of relief. “Bless that Jonathan! I’ve always liked him…”
Your mom may be the biggest Jonathan supporter you’ve ever met. “Yeah, he’s your favorite. I know,” you shift a bit to catch Alex’s attention, mouthing to him that you need to leave work early. “Hey, did Dustin by chance say how long he’ll be at the Wheeler’s? I can swing by and pick him up after my shift.” 
“Oh, I think he’s staying the night there. He mentioned something about Mike not finishing his part of their little science project?”
They’re calling the little girl a science project now? Boys are so typical. “Oh, I see. Well, I gotta get back to work, mom. I’ll be home late tonight.”
Your mom wishes you goodbye and warns you not to be out too late. You hum, already trying to figure out the quickest route to the Wheeler’s house. You can’t say you’re surprised that Mike didn’t follow the plan, but you also can’t say you were prepared for this either. 
Alex comes back with your boss and you quickly make up a lie about not feeling well. Mrs. Waters gives you a pitying look and tells you to go. You’re incredibly grateful for her, she’s like a grandmother to you and has always been so kind. 
You quickly bike to Mike’s house, going over a grand speech in your head for the boys. Logistically speaking, you’re not sure if they can even harbor the little girl in his basement. Would it be kidnapping? Could kids even kidnap other kids? You aren’t sure and you definitely aren’t willing to find out. 
You arrive at the house just as Nancy and Barb are pulling out of the driveway, presumably to Steve’s grand house party. They wave at you awkwardly and you don’t have it in you to wave back. You park your bike next to their doorstep and knock on the door. 
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Mrs. Wheeler asks after opening the door. 
“Oh, I was just wondering if I could hang out with the boys tonight? Jonathan’s busy and I promised Dustin I’d help with their campaign.”
Mrs. Wheeler cocks her head at you. “But I thought there was a special assembly at the school for Will? Nancy and Barb just left for it.” 
You feel your blood boil a bit. There was no assembly for Will at your school, and it was really damn low of Nancy to use his disappearance as a cover story for her stupid party. She’s known Will since he was practically a baby. You have no idea how someone could be so unaffected by a missing child, let alone one who has been at your house every damn weekend for years now. 
“Oh, that!” You force yourself to remain calm; there isn’t time to snitch on Nancy, Mrs. Wheeler would only have more questions for you. “Yeah, I’m, uh, skipping it. Jonathan doesn’t want to go, so after he’s back from his errands I’m heading over to his place to, you know, comfort him?” 
The woman stares at you for a second, trying to determine if there are any lies to your words. You’ve never been the best liar, but being the oldest Henderson child has unfortunately prepared you for being quick on your feet when needed. 
“Well, come on then. They boys just went downstairs, and if you can please remind them to bring the plate of food back up here I’d really appreciate it.”
You thank Mrs. Wheeler and let yourself in. Her words have all but solidified your suspicions: Mike kept the girl. 
When you descend the basement steps, it’s almost comical how the kids scramble to hide the girl like little cockroaches. They run around and Dustin screams something about covering her before the poor girl is being manhandled into a sheet as Mike screams at Lucas and Dustin to calm down. 
“Guys! It’s just me! Jesus!” You shout, shoving past Mike to rush over to the girl and free her from the sheets. She looks more frightened than usual, but at least she’s alive. 
“God, why am I always the one you push?”
You shush Mike, smoothing back the girl’s hair and offering her a reassuring smile. “Remember me, sweetheart?”
The girl nods and softly says, “Y/N.”
“Very good. I’m going to scream at my brother real quick, so why don’t you cover your ears for me so you don’t get too frightened?” 
“Wait, what-”
The minute her ears are covered, you turn to Dustin and begin screaming. “Are you brain dead and not understand the words ‘tell me if anything weird happens’ or do you simply lack the appropriate empathy needed for a concerned sister?”
Dustin ducks his head in shame. “Y/N, look-”
“No! I’m all for helping you guys with your adventures and whatever, but Will went missing and then she appears and Mike,” you turn to him and he hides behind a frightened Lucas. “You said you’d stick to your plan. Now tell me, did you?”
Mike shakes his head, his eyes wide. Dustin looks no better as he cowers behind the others. Lucas simply shrugs, knowing that this would happen. You never, ever, yell at the boys; the few times you have in the past, all hell had broken loose. 
“Y/N-”
“Zip it, Henderson. I’m so pissed off at you right now and if you want to make it to thirteen I suggest you keep quiet.” 
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Now, why don’t you guys catch me up on what you’ve so sweetly kept hidden from me.” It’s worded as a question, but the boys know better than to deny you. 
You sit on the ground so that you’re next to the girl and then motion for the three boys in front of you to start speaking. They look at Mike, giving him a nudge, and he hesitantly steps forward to begin speaking. “Her name is El.”
The girl, El, looks up at you and smiles. You return the smile and knock your shoulder against hers in a playful manner. “Nice to meet you, can I ask what El is short for?”
“Eleven,” she says, and you want to question the name further but the look on Mike’s face stops you. Now is not the time, you guess. 
“El, she’s… different.” Mike continues, looking around nervously. He’s acting as if someone could break in any second and snipe you guys, and a part of you doesn’t doubt it can happen. “She has these powers, like, mind control powers.”
You snort, unable to stop yourself. El looks at you, looking unoffended, seemingly expecting this reaction. However, Mike groans at you. “Y/N, this is serious. She-she knows about Will.”
At this, your smile fades and you feel an overwhelming sense of hope take over you. You find your arms wrapping around El before you can control yourself and you give her a tight hug. She stiffens in your arms and you immediately pull away. “I’m sorry, I just… sorry.”
She laughs a bit, softly saying that it’s okay. 
“Do you really know Will? Where he is?” You ask, almost too scared to say the words out loud. If she’s telling the truth… you shake your head in an attempt to dispel any false hope. You don’t know this girl, she could be lying. 
Before El can say anything else, Mike speaks for her. “She does, but there’s bad men out there who want to hurt her. I think they’re after Will, too.” 
You freeze. “Bad men?”
“Yes, this is why we didn’t want to tell you!”
“I wanted to tell her,” Lucas says, which causes Mike to glare at him.
You wave your arms at the two boys, breaking up their fight. “Mike, what do you mean by bad men? Honey,” you look at El, “did someone hurt you? Are you in danger? Should I call the police?”
“No!” All three boys shout at once. 
You look at them, at the genuine fear in their eyes, and sigh, “Okay, if you can give me a good reason not to call the cops, I won’t.”
“Did you not hear the part about El having powers?” Dustin asks. 
“Gee, Dustin. You’re right! It’s like her having powers is totally believable and reassuring to the situation at hand!”
“I can show you,” El speaks up. 
You all face her now. “You can?” 
She nods at you, getting up and grabbing your backpack that you threw on the ground when you walked in. She rustles through it while you and the boys look at one another. After a few seconds, El grabs one of your comic books and places it on the table. She looks at you and tilts her head, indicating for you to sit down next to her; you do as you’re told.
El straightens out your comic and then closes her eyes, going completely still. The air around you shifts and you can practically feel the static electricity encasing you; the hair on your arms stand up. The pages of the comic begin to flick up, fluttering as if someone is thumbing through them in rapid succession. You watch as the Spidey panels flash before your eyes, the pages flying faster and faster until it becomes almost frightening to be near. Then, once it gets to its last page, the comic flies up into the air and hovers for a few seconds, right in front of your face. 
“Holy shit,” you breathe out, your eyes wide. 
Just as quickly as it began, the comic drops back onto the table. You look up at El and see that her nose is now bleeding, which rips you back to reality. The chair scrapes against the ground as you get up to help her, dabbing at the blood with a tissue that had been laying on the table. 
“Do you believe us now?” Mike asks, a smug look on his face. 
You gently wipe away the remaining blood from El’s face, looking her in the eye and directing your words to her. “I’m listening, sweetheart. What can you do to help us find Will?” 
El smiles, pleased to have earned your trust, and you get the feeling that this little girl is the most powerful thing in all of Hawkins, maybe even the world. At her request, Mike places his DnD board on the table and arranges the pieces for El to use. She sits down and closes her eyes once more.
Lucas gives you a doubtful look. “What’s the weirdo doing?”
You flick his head, not enjoying the name calling. Honestly, you thought you raised these boys better than that. 
El seems to accomplish whatever she was doing and picks up the wizard piece, murmuring, “Will.” 
You feel your heart stop. Will always insisted on being the wizard whenever they played the game. He was Will the Wise, forever and always. El couldn’t have simply guessed that, and you know it’s her-
“Superpowers,” Dustin finishes your thought for you. The two of you exchange a glance and you notice the slight glee in his eyes. Under different circumstances, you’d also find this all pretty cool. 
Mike sits next to El and begins to ask some questions about where she last saw Will. She gives him a look that you can’t quite decipher before swiping her arm across the table and spilling the pieces onto the floor. She then flips the board over, having it now face upside down, and places Will’s piece back down. 
You knit your brows together, trying to follow along. El’s movements are methodical and carefully planned, being unable to find the right words due to her poor speech, and you try to piece together the information you’ve been given. 
“I don’t understand,” Mike says, being extra gentle with El. You’ve never seen him so soft spoken before and you’re grateful at least one of the boys doesn’t view her as some monster. Which reminds you that you need to have a conversation with Dustin about respecting women, but for now you’ll hold off.
“Hiding.” says El. 
He’s good at hiding, Jonathan’s words echo in your head. 
“Will is hiding?” 
El nods, now looking more nervous. You can tell that Mike is getting closer to information that she doesn’t want him near, which finally causes you to ask the question that’s been heavily on your mind. “From the bad men?”
Now El gives a slight shake of the head, and Mike presses on. “Then from who?”
Without saying anything, El places a second piece onto the board right in front of Will’s. It’s a piece you’re unfamiliar with, with two snake-like heads that loom over the small wizard piece. Whatever it is, you know it isn’t good judging the way Mike, Dustin, and Lucas look at each other in fear.
You turn to Dustin and whisper, “What’s that piece?”
Your brother puts his hands behind his head and sighs deeply, a new resigned look on his face. He looks as if he’s just aged thirty years, which you find a bit dramatic. “It’s the Demogorgon.”
“The Demo-what?” The name sounds familiar, but you can’t remember anything about it.
Mike looks at you and for once his voice holds no annoyance when he says, “There’s a lot we still have to catch you up on.”
– 
Your head is spinning as you bike to Jonathan’s with all the new information you’ve just received. Demogorgons, magical vortexes, kids with damn superpowers. It’s all a lot for you to take in, and while you fully believe that El is something entirely different from a normal little girl, how can you be sure that it’s connected to Will? While his disappearance still confuses you, it’s illogical to jump to supernatural conclusions. 
Dustin had begged you to let him spend the night at Mikes in order to keep talking to El, and you only agreed because you figured you’d be at Jonathan’s again tonight anyways. He’s been MIA all day and you’re worried as usual, but you made him and Mike swear to you that they’d stay put in the house. At least this way they’re in one place, so if they screw around they’ll be easier to find. 
When you arrive at the Byers home you notice that Jonathan’s car isn’t in the driveway, which only confuses you further. Where the hell is he? You gave him all day to deal with Lonnie and cool off, trusting that he wouldn’t do anything stupid for twelve hours, and yet… 
You fear he’s done something stupid. 
You don’t have time to think too much about Jonathan’s absence because a frantic Joyce runs out the door screaming. She runs straight past you and into her car, and the house begins to light up like a christmas tree. You can hear The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go, a song that Will once had on repeat for three weeks straight, and you can feel the same static electricity in the air that you felt when El used her powers in front of you. 
Joyce suddenly gets out of the car and spots you, pointing towards her house. “You see that too?”
You swallow. “Yeah,”
She nods, as if your confirmation is all she needs to determine her sanity, and then marches inside. You stand in the yard, motionless. You’re terrified, and after learning about El tonight, you don’t have it in you to discover any other supernatural beings in Hawkins at the moment. Sighing, you follow after the woman because Jonathan isn’t home and someone needs to talk her down from whatever panic attack the flashing lights have inevitably caused. 
“Mrs. Byers-” 
“Y/N, you can’t tell me there isn’t something,” Joyce waves her hands in front of her face, almost grasping at the air, “weird about all of this. That was Will’s song, the lights were flashing in Will’s room, something came out of Will’s wall-”
“Something came out of his wall?”
“Yes! I’m not… I promise I’m not crazy, okay? You saw it, please tell me you saw it.”
You bite your lip, now thinking about El. You swore to Mike you wouldn’t tell anyone about her, and honestly you’re not sure that you should tell Joyce about her right now. You’re still unsure if El is being honest with you, and you can’t just give the woman false hope for her son. It’d kill you if you were wrong about El. But seeing the lights, hearing the music, the thing in the wall… There’s something that she’s not telling you. 
“Mrs. Byers… I’m not quite sure what I saw, but we just had a bad storm and it could be faulty wiring.” 
Joyce slumps her shoulders, frustrated that you aren’t conspiring with her. You just… you can’t. Not yet. Not before you figure out what the hell El is doing in Hawkins. You refuse to worsen Joyce’s already chronic anxiety and paranoia; Jonathan would never forgive you if you fed into her delusions, but it kills you to lie to her. 
“Look, I do think that something is weird about this entire situation, “ Joyce’s face lights up, but you’re quick to add, “however, there’s no proof. You, I mean-Mrs. Byers, you’ve seen things in the past. You’re stressed, and anxious, and all the other synonyms.” 
The woman lets a few tears drop from her eyes, now embarrassed. “Maybe you’re right. I-I’m sorry, honey. I just-”
You grab her hand. “I know,”
Her smile is brittle, a ghost of the once beautiful smile she’d give you, and your heart breaks for her. 
After your conversation, Joyce excuses herself to her room. She looks even more exhausted than before, so you leave her alone and hole yourself up in Jonthan’s room. 
You glance at your watch and note the late hour; you’re starting to worry now. Jonathan didn’t mention anything besides Lonnie and the posters, so you don’t know what else he could be doing so late. He wouldn’t go searching for Will without you. 
You wake up to Jonathan returning an hour or so later, apparently having fallen asleep while waiting for him. 
“Y/N?” His voice is gruff and surprised. 
You groan and rub your eyes. “Turn the light off, bee.”
He doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”
The tone of his voice wakes you up a bit, making you sit up and look at him more clearly. His shoulders are tense, his eyes are hiding something, and his overall demeanor is hard to read. “I had something to tell you, but is everything okay?”
“You couldn't have waited until tomorrow? Y/N, this is my house, just… just get out.”
“I’m sorry?” You’re confused by his behavior, now starting to become a bit defensive and hurt by his dismissal. 
“You can’t just let yourself in whenever you please.” Jonathan puts his camera on his desk, still refusing to meet your eyes.
“Jonathan, we literally have always let ourselves into each other’s houses whenever we please.” 
He rolls his eyes at you and rips off his jacket, throwing it at you. “Get out!”
You catch the jacket before it hits you in the face. “What the hell, Jonathan!” 
“Listen, I get that you think you’re a part of the family, but you’re not. You’ve been here for days now, it’s getting old.” 
His words cut through you and leave vicious wounds against your skin. He doesn’t mean that, he can’t mean that. You and him were family. He’s never, ever insinuated anything less. He wouldn’t dare. Your Jonathan would never act like this to you, and the only time he’s ever been this cruel to you was when he accidentally dropped Lonnie’s last beer in the fridge and was too embarrassed and ashamed to ask for help; he’d shown up with bruises later that night.
Then it hits you. He did something, something that makes him feel guilty; he keeps glancing at his camera. You soften your voice, “Bee, what did you do?”
He whips around, now yelling. “Nothing! Just get the hell out of my house! It’s getting pathetic!” 
You swallow back the angry tears that build in your throat. Fine. Whatever. Let him be a raging bitch after everything you’ve done for him these last few days. 
“Fine, I will.” Grabbing your backpack you snatch the assignments you were supposed to give Jonathan and slam them against his chest. “Here’s all your fucking assignments, by the way.” 
He seems to come back to himself, blinking away the anger and shame. “Bug…”
“You don’t get to call me that.” And with that, you don’t spare Jonathan another glance. 
– 
When you get home, the house is eerily quiet. Dustin is at Mike’s and your mom leaves you a note saying that she’s spending the night at your aunt’s. Great. Looks like it’s just you and Mews tonight then. 
After everything that’s happened tonight, you never found time to eat dinner, and your stomach is loudly growling. You drop your stuff in your room and then reheat some leftovers, feeling like a pathetic child. You know that Jonathan didn’t mean what he said, but the words had come too easily to him to have just been a way to dodge his guilt. There had been some truth to them. Maybe you were pathetic for always fretting over him.
Dinner is quiet tonight. 
You wait for the phone to ring, for Jonathan to call you and apologize, but the call never comes. 
You’ve never felt so alone before.
-
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mymyapplesigh · 2 months
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Hihi!
Could you write a Walker Scobell x Reader fic where the reader gave him a handmade gift (crochet, origami or smth) at a fan event and she hid a piece of paper inside of it with her instagram handle? (I'm sorry if this is a weird request😭; I don't even understand the stuff my brain comes up with💀)
Anyways, thank youu! I hope you have a great day! :D
OOOO A WALKER ASK I LOVE IT !!! 🙈🙈
PLS SEND MORE REQUESTS GUYS PLS😇
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Walker Scobell x Reader
Youve been a fan of Walker for a few years now. When you saw the Adam Project something was pulling you towards him. Following him on Instagram you gave it a rest. Its when he got his role of Percy Jackson on Disneys new spin off is when he really blew up. You saw all the behind the scenes and interviews he was in. The show itself was amazing, other than the slight jealousy you would feel here and there but thats normal for any teen.
He quickly became a HUGE celebrity crush for you. You knew that everyone felt like that for a celebrity crush but Walker felt like a school crush. You felt like you knew him. And like any cleberity crush, you told your best friend, your mom, your dad, your sister, your brother, your cat/dog, your school friends your not as close to, yiur favorite teacher, your least favorite teacher, and the old lady next door that loved hearing you talk.
“No you dont understand, hes different. I feel like I ACTUALLY know him.” you ranted to your best friend at your guys lab station in science.
“Y/n, hes just a celebrity. Half of the teenage girl population feels the same way you do right now.” She responded sort of knocking some sense into your brain. It didnt quite reach the part of your brain responsible for common sense as you still felt the same way.
“You know, hes having that fan meet thing close by in down town. If you really want to meet him just go to that, my daughter will be there too.” Your science teacher said coming behind you scaring the shit out of you.
Then it hit you, he was coming here. Your crush coming here. Walker THE Scobell. Pulling out your phone you looked it up to see if it was true. Seeing Walkers story it proved it. He was even staying at the hotel near your apartment. Near isnt the right word, ONE BUILDING OVER.
Coming home from school that day went awfully quick. The subject from earlier being the only thing occupying your mind.
How would you even make him notice you? You fit it with everyone else. There would be no way. Your eyes wandering around your room in thought just as your cat was playing with your crochet yarn. Now you have an idea.
After a little bit of social media you realized he really looked up to Ryan Renolds and had this thing for Deadpool. You were definitely going to make him a deadpool stuffed animal.
When your hands were cramped enough and it finally looked like deadpool you knew you were done. Then another thought hit you. Even if he took it, that would be it. Hed notice you for about 5.6 seconds and then itd just be stored randomly in his house.
A notification came from your phone, Walkers notification that he posted. Youd give him your Instagram. Even though it was unlikely hed ever take it the hope inside of you was stronger than any doubt you had.
The day to finally see him came quicker than you imagined. You spent hours putting on your best formal wear and even more to do your hair (and makeup if your a girl 😋).
When you finally saw him you realized he saw you first. His eyes being drawn to your face as he walked over to you. You shouldve taken your meds before you came. He walked over and smiled at you. Not any smile youve seen, a genuine one. Not the kind youd give when you see a stranger pass by you, but the one that you give when you actually see someone you love.
“Please tell me this is for me.” He sort of yelled as he tried to make his voice louder than his screaming fans.
“Yes, yes of course.” you giggled as your shaky hands gave it to his. You noticed how his hands gently went over yours. Then the screams of fans changed. They went from begging for his attention to being on them to sounds of awes and your personal favorite; “are you guys dating” “is that your girlfriend”
When he walked away though your eyes and heart didnt miss the way his head turned back around to see you, that smile was back on his face.
When you got home you were euphoric. Walker THE Scobell noticed you and you were freaking out STILL.
Your phone buzzed again. A more agressive vibration so it wasnt a imessage.
‘Walker Scobell followed you!’
Your heart dropped into your ass.
Opening up Instagram you shook even more. About to message your friend on Instagram you noticed his note.
‘I fell inlove at a fan meet.’
And before you could even text your friend another notification went off.
Walker Scobell
Hi, is this the fan that gave me the deadpool?
yes! it is 🩷
I just wanted to say that I think your really cool and I was wondering if you wanna be friends?
Seen 32 mins ago
You didnt know what to do. Respond or never text him again. Throw up or pass out even.
You decided to reapond to him.
Its funny how that whole story was only 2 years ago. You were now with your lovely boyfriend Walker. You were at his house watching the new season of Percy Jackson starring you in it. Life is amazing when you take chances.
“Man I hate watching my acting, why did I make that face.” Your boyfriend started complaining watching himself on the tv.
“Oh shush you look good and you know it.” Your assured him lifting up the curls on his head to give him a genuine kiss on his forehead.
He looked up from you from where his head was laying on your chest and gave you those eyes. Those sea blue eyes that filled with warmth tenderness. You knew he was always more than a celebrity crush. He was your soulmate.
Pls send me your requests !!
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half-oz-eddie · 4 months
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Billy's been living with the Byers-Hopper family for almost 4 months. He still isn't very receptive to Joyce or Jim's gentler parenting methods, nor does he understand why Will and El keep bugging him to play as if he's some super fun guy to be around.
Jonathan doesn't bother him too much. Sometimes they smoke weed together and run errands together, but they don't exactly hang out and that's fine with Billy.
On Christmas morning, he wasn't expecting much. He thought he'd sit in the corner and watch everyone else open gifts while he was excluded, because that was what he was used to.
But it didn't go that way. Joyce invited Steve over for Hot Chocolate and presents, which, to Billy's surprise, he received many of. Steve bought him a new watch, El made him an ashtray, Will drew a poster for his bedroom, and Joyce and Jim...well, they gave him a big red box with a bow on it.
Billy slowly opened the box, his brows furrowing at the little shaking furball inside.
"A puppy?" He chuckled. "You got me a puppy?"
"He's a rescue from the animal shelter." Joyce smiled. "And you know what? His name's Billy too! It's almost like fate!"
Billy didn't hate dogs, but he didn't really care about having one very much either. "Gotta admit, you're pretty cute, though." He smirked at the puppy. "Guess you're mine, now."
2 days after Billy got little Billy, he caught him chewing on his shoes and he shouted at him.
"No! Don't chew on my shoes! The hell's the matter with you?"
The puppy cowered in a corner, whimpering and Billy sighed, remembering how frightened he was when he would get yelled at.
"Shit. I'm sorry. You're just a puppy, you probably don't know any better." He sighed, kneeling down and reaching out a gentle hand for little Billy. "Look, pup, you can't chew on shoes, alright? Bad." He pointed to the shoe. "Not food. No."
Little Billy cocked his head to the side, then peed on the floor.
"Jesus Christ." He whispered to himself. "Listen. You can't piss on my floor, and you can't chew my stuff, alright? We can't share space like this if you're gonna tear up my stuff." He lifted little Billy and brought him to the newspaper on the floor. "Pee here." He pointed to the wet spot on the floor. "No. Bad. Not for peeing."
Eventually, Little Billy understood to pee on the paper and not on the floor. Billy tried to take him out for walks, but little Billy refused to go outside.
"I don't like leaving the room much either, pup. But you can't be afraid of what's out there, okay? How about I carry you?" Billy offered, putting his arms out for the puppy.
Little Billy jumped into his arms and Billy zipped him up into his jacket. "Let's go."
Billy took little Billy outside and showed him the neighborhood. "That's a tree. You can piss on as many of those as you want. If you pee on it, it's yours. Sounds good, right? And that's a car. I have one of those. I'll let you ride in mine when you stop pissing everywhere, deal? And that's...that's Steve."
"Don't you 2 look cozy?" Steve smiled as he approached.
"Yeah, he was too scared to walk around on his own. He's pretty jumpy. I think he was abused in his old home."
"Probably, yeah."
"I yelled at him this morning and he got scared. Made me feel like shit. I remember getting yelled at like that when I was little. I'm trying to be nicer so I don't scare him."
"That's really sweet of you, babe. You're such a good guy."
"I don't wanna be like him—Y'know...my dad. I wanna be different."
"You are. I don't think Neil would have a puppy tucked into his jacket like a proud father swaddling a baby, would he?"
Billy laughed. "Probably not."
"You two are a perfect match."
"Why's that? Because I was an abused rescue too?"
"Well—No. You're a hero. Little Billy needed a hero too."
Billy smiled. "Let's go back home. I'll get us all some lunch."
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hotchfiles · 3 months
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ the most dangerous thing is to love ❞ ─ a darling, in any life blurb
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pairing: aaron hotchner x reader. summary: the red thread between two people destined to be together may stretch and tangle, but those ties will never break. or: you almost lose him over the most silly of insecurities. content warnings: i'm thinking none. you can tell me otherwise though. word count: 500+
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aaron hasn’t been the same the past week, you knew there was a problem and he wasn’t speaking on it, that couldn’t be good, he was never the type to shy away from saying what bothered him, especially to you. you knew each other too long, from too way back to keep secrets. 
he’s at your couch, sweats, t-shirt, socks. it’s friday night but there’s still files on your coffee table he’s looking over. everything about it is completely ordinary, domestic. but he’s too silent, too absorbed in his own mind. not once did he glance over to you like he usually does, a reassuring smile telling you he enjoyed the quietness. 
you leave the papers you’re grading at the desk, going to him ready to get answers, even if you didn’t enjoy what they could be, you can see the surprise on his face as you kneed in front of him, taking his hands on yours as you searched for his eyes. “hey, what’s wrong?”
he has that look on his face like he’s about to lose something and he’s trying to hold on to it as much as he can and that doesn’t help your nerves in the slightest. aaron pulls you up with ease, getting you to sit on the coffee table filled with papers so you can talk face to face. 
“you’ve managed to avoid meeting jack more than once now and that worries me.” oh. you open your mouth countless times trying to come up with some sort of excuse that didn’t actually exist, eyes blinking so fast you couldn’t hide how nervous and surprised you were. “i—i love you and i want you, us. i want a family for him, for jack. he’s front and center always and—” 
interrupting him with your index finger was your way to show him he didn’t need to make his case on this. that was the first time he told you he loved you and it felt like a goodbye and it was your fault for being… silly.
“i’m too scared he’ll hate me.” your voice is nothing but a whisper, children were never part of your life, you were an only child and then a driven working woman, the friends you had who became moms would soon have conflicting schedules and fall out of touch. if jack hated your guts you and aaron could never work it out. 
the relief he feels is so loud he actually has to sigh before chuckling and pulling you in to his lap, hugging you so tight you can barely breath. “he’s not going to. i promise you, he’s the sweetest kid, really.”
you nod furiously, ready to make things right, "we could go back to your place tomorrow? go to the movies, maybe?"
"anything you want, honey."
"i love you too, by the way." it isn't ideal, and it wasn't the most romantic way to declare it. but in a way you always loved each other and you both always knew it.
"oh good, i was sweating for a minute here."
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chrisbitchtree · 14 days
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Dear Younger Me
My piece for the @harringrove-relay-race!!!
I'm now passing the baton on to @oopsiedaisiesbaby! I can’t wait to see what you’ve written!
4k - M
***
When Billy’s therapist had first assigned him the project, to write letters to his younger self detailing the twists and turns his life would take, and how he’d somehow managed to navigate them and get to a place where he could truly call himself happy, he’d laughed, because frankly, it sounded like a waste of time.
He knew he was happy and successful, so what good would it do to tell the long gone, scared, angry seventeen year old version of himself about it? But the more he wrote, filling page after page with his messy scrawl, the more he felt that he could let go of all the hurt and pain of his youth. It felt good. So good, in fact, that he’d allowed himself to be talked into giving Steve the letters to read.
Now though, as he stands on Steve’s front porch, he feels a really strong urge to run. It’s too late though, he’s already rung the doorbell, and he can hear Steve’s approaching footsteps. There’s no way he’d get back into his car and out of sight before Steve opens the door. He takes a deep breath, holding the stack of letters in front of himself.
“Hey Billy,” Steve greeted him, a grin spreading over his face, looking unfairly sexy, shirtless on this hot summer night. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from you at 10pm on a Tuesday?”
“Uhhhh,” Billy replies, almost chickening out and saying he was in the neighbourhood and in the mood for some company and a beer, knowing Steve won’t ask questions, good guy that he is, but he knows that its important for Steve to read the letters, for Billy to let him in, if he ever wants to be more than friends with the man. Steve’s made it clear that he wants Billy, so the ball is firmly in Billy’s court. So, he takes another deep breath and hands the envelopes to Steve. “I want you to read these. Or my therapist does. But I do too. Just read them, okay, pretty boy?” With that, he walks away before Steve can answer.
***
At first, Steve’s confused when his doorbell rings at 10pm, and then he’s excited when he finds Billy on his front porch. They usually hang out pretty steadily, grabbing beers after work, having BBQs with Max and Lucas, watching endless movies, and hiking in the woods on the edge of town, but lately, every time Steve asks Billy to do anything, he claims that he’s busy working on a project, but won’t tell Steve any details about it. He’s starting to worry that Billy’s trying to freeze him out.
His excitement turns back to confusion when Billy hands him a stack of envelopes, telling him to read what’s inside of them, but he does as he’s told, grabbing the beer that he’d cracked open just before the doorbell had rung and taking it out to the backyard, turning on the patio lights so he can read.
He pulls a small stack of papers from the first envelope, unfolding them to find a letter.
“Dear younger me,
I know you’re upset right now. It’s not easy leaving your friends, your school, the ocean, the only home you’ve ever known behind to move to the middle of butt fuck nowhere. I won’t lie, it’s going to suck at first. Neil’s been with Susan long enough that he isn’t putting a show on in front of her anymore. He’s going to yell and threaten you and get in your face.
Starting at a new school is going to be terrifying, and it’s good to put on a brave face, to not show fear, but try to remember that it’s ok to admit that everything isn’t ok sometimes. Even if it’s just to yourself, curled up in your bed late at night. Let the tears fall, I promise you’ll feel better afterwards.
It won’t be long until you meet Steve Harrington, the king of Hawkins High. You’re going to be such a dick to him, and he’s going to spend a long time hating you for it. You’re going to spend a long time hating yourself for it. You’ll eventually work your way to friendship, but you’ll save a lot of time if you don’t spend your entire senior year of high school treating him like he’s dirt on the bottom of your shoes.
Because you can’t manage to get your head out of your ass, Steve’s going to push, rightfully so, and you’re going to pull, until the tension’s going to come to a head at Harrington’s graduation party. The night’s going to start with the two of you throwing barbs back and forth and end with you on your knees in the Harrington’s pool house, Steve’s cock between your lips. You’re barely even going to stay long enough for him to finish cumming, to scared to see what’ll happen in the aftermath, but you really should. Tell him how you feel about him, tell him that the way you treated him all year was an act, a way to protect your heart, and his response just might surprise you. You never know.”
Steve has to stop reading for a minute, his face flushing as he thinks back to his graduation night, how good Billy had looked on his knees, looking up at Steve as his tongue swirled around the head of his cock. He remembers how strong the urge to run his hands through Billy’s hair had been, but it had seemed too intimate an action, so he’d resisted, as hard as it had been. He’d wanted to reciprocate, but Billy had fled the scene before Steve could even catch his breath, not to be seen again for three years, until Neil and Susan Hargrove had died. He picks the letter back up, curious to see how it will end, and what will be in the next one.
“You’re going to blame yourself for a lot of what comes after. You’re going to tell yourself that if you’d stayed, if you hadn’t hightailed it back to California while the ink on your diploma was still drying, if you’d stayed, even just for Max, and nothing else, or if you’d finally stood up to Neil for once, things would have turned out differently. Please try as hard as you can to be kind to yourself. I promise you didn’t cause this, that nothing you could have done would have stopped Neil from being an asshole.
Love,
Billy”
“Dear younger me,
You just found out that Dad and Susan died, and you’re going to have a lot of mixed emotions about that. Relief that Neil can’t hurt you, can’t hurt anyone anymore, grief, as you mourn the dad you never got to have, regret, that you weren’t there to take the keys out of Neil’s hands that night when he drank too much and decided that Susan was cheating on him instead of going out to a girl’s night at the bar, sadness, for Max, who, at only seventeen, has no parents left, only has you to take care of her, when you can barely take care of yourself on the best of days.
It's going to be tough, I’m not going to lie. You and Max are going to fight about anything and everything. She’s going to blame you for this, and it’s going to take a long time for her to apologize, and it’s going to hurt, even though you blame yourself too.
You have to stay strong, though. Strong for yourself, and for Max. You need to put down the bottle and find a good job so you can take care of Max and yourself. It’ll be hard to even make yourself get out of bed most days, but you have to grin and bear it. I promise it’ll eventually get easier, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now. It’ll all be worth it when you see her walk across the stage with her diploma.
Love,
Billy”
As soon as he’s one reading the second letter, Steve folds it up and slips it back into its envelope and takes out the third letter, eager to see where this is going, to find out why he’s being asked to read them. He takes a sip of his beer and settles in for the long haul.
“When Max is twenty one, she’s going to call you and tell you that she’s dropping out of college to work at the garage with you and help you work towards your goal of buying it from Mr. Dennis when he retires, and you’re going to feel like a failure, like all your hard work, all the hours you put in at the shop to help pay for her education are going to waste. You’re going to fight long and hard about whether she’s fucking up her life, and you’re going to say a lot of things that you regret, but you need to remember that she’s an adult now, and she’s smart, and she knows what’s right for herself.
You won’t want to admit it, even to yourself, but you know you’re going to be happy to have her back where you can keep an eye on her, instead of way out in Boston. There’ll be growing pains at first, as you both get used to living together again, but it’ll be nice to have someone else around the house again.
And be nice to Lucas when Max has him over. He’s a good guy when he’s not being a smartass, and trust me, you’re going to need him later. Show him a little respect, and you’ll save yourself a lot of embarrassment later.
Love,
Billy”
“Dear younger me,
Two years after you finally take over ownership of the shop, just as you’re really starting to feel like the place is yours, Max is going to beg you to let her renovate the attached luncheonette and run a small diner and bakeshop out of it.
You’re going to resist for so long, finding a million reasons why she shouldn’t do it. The kitchen requires too much work, there won’t be enough customers for it to be profitable, she should be doing something better with her life than planting her roots so firmly in Hawkins. You worked hard so she can get out, and you don’t want to enable her sticking around.
Trust me, it’s going to be easier if you just give in. She may be stubborn, but she’s right, the place is going to be a huge success, and you’re going to wonder why you didn’t let her have at it sooner. That is, until two weeks after the diner opens, on the night of the launch party, Max is going to get drunk and take your motorcycle out and crash it.
She’s going to survive, but just barely. It’s going to be a very long road to recovery, and that’s where the thing I mentioned earlier about being nice to Lucas will come in. He’s the only one that’s going to be there for you in the early days, when you’re trying to keep two business afloat and be at the hospital with Max. He’s going to take a year off from school to work in the diner and the garage when you need to be with Max and be with Max when you need to be at the diner and garage. You’re going to be each other’s rocks when it gets to be too much, and you’re going to be embarrassed about how you treated him before if you don’t stop treating him like shit right now. I know I’ve already said this a lot, but trust me.
Love,
Billy”
“Dear younger me,
I know that more than anything, you’ll want to make sure that Max’s diner stays open, that it’s there for her when she gets better, but you’re too stubborn to ask for help, and too busy to have it open enough hours in a day to turn a profit, so you’ll think about throwing in the towel and just focusing on the garage.
Tired and frustrated, you’ll head to Chicago one evening to blow off some steam at a bar. You’ll think to yourself that you’ll just go for a few drinks, and maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll find someone to take to whatever shitty hotel you can find a room in for the night, but instead, what you find in there, or rather who you find in there, is going to change everything for you.
Standing near the bar nursing a bottle of beer is Steve Harrington, looking every bit as pretty as he did back in high school. You’re going to try to turn around and run like the coward that you are, but Steve’s going to spot you before you can head out. Caught, you’re going to let him buy you a beer and sit and catch up.
He’s going to tell you how he feels lost after dropping out of law school, a failure in his father’s eyes, how scary it is to not feel that much more mature at twenty five than he did at eighteen. You’re going to tell him about your dad and Susan, and Max’s accident, how it feels like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, with no one there except Lucas to occasionally lighten the load.
He tells you that drinks are on him for the night, and he orders another round, and another and another, until you’re both shitfaced and stumbling towards his nearby apartment. On the way, you tell him that unless you get some money fast, you’re going to have to sell the diner, and then you forget you said anything as he asks if he can kiss you in the elevator.
You’re going to have a moment of panic, as Steve presses you up against the door of his apartment and runs his lips all over your throat, about whether this is the right thing to do or not. You think that it might be best to turn around and forget this ever happened.
Don’t. Stay, have fun with the hottest guy you could ever hope to be with, and create enough jerk off material to last you the rest of your life. Ever the gentleman, he’ll ask if he can take you to bed. You’ll both lose your breath laughing as he tries to carry you there and fails miserably, and you’ll smile to yourself every time you think about that moment.
Once you get to his room, you’re going to have to fight the urge to do all the work. You keep telling yourself that Steve deserves to be worshiped, but he’s going to insist that you sit back and enjoy it, and you should listen to someone else for once.
He’s going to do things you didn’t even know someone could do with their mouth, leaving your moaning, hands twisting in the bedsheets, and your eyes will roll back in your head as he fucks you six ways to Sunday. Afterwards, he’ll clean you both up and hold you in his arms while he snores softly in your ear, and you’ll think about how nice it is to be taken care of, that you could get used to it.
By morning, you’ll have talked yourself out of it. You don’t deserve this, you don’t have time for this, it’s too much, you’re not enough, and you’ll sneak out before Steve wakes, feeling like an idiot as you walk back to your car with your hair all stuck up in the back, knowing that everyone giving you side eye as they walk down the sidewalk with a coffee and a briefcase knows what you were up to last night.
You’ll be embarrassed, but relieved that you got out of Steve’s place without having to have an awkward morning after conversation. You’ll open up the shop for the day and put all your energy into working on the cars and running into the diner to check on Lucas and the lone waitress in between appointments, but no matter how hard you try, you’re not going to be able to take your mind off Steve, how he looked the night before, looking down at you with his big brown doe eyes as he asked you if it felt good. Part of you is going to wish you hadn’t left his place, but you know it’s for the best.
The days will keep marching on, until a couple weeks after you have your run-in with Steve, when you’ll get a call from the bank. You prepare yourself for the worst, sure that they’re calling you to tell you that it’s time to give up the diner, but no, they have a potential investor, and they want to meet with the two of you.
You show up at the bank feeling ridiculous in your one pair of khakis and your best button up, and of course, the first person you see when you enter the bank is Steve Fucking Harrington, grinning wide at you as he chats up a teller. You want to turn around, but you can’t, because this idiot is your only way to keep the diner alive.
When you ask him why, why he would do this for you, when you’ve just been an asshole to him. He says it’s not for you, it’s for Max, and for Steve himself, because his dad apparently has no problem writing a huge cheque to invest in the diner if it means that Steve won’t be sitting idle any longer.
You’re not going to be sure how involved Steve plans on actually being involved in the day to day running of the diner, but you definitely don’t expect him to show up two days later, apron and baseball cap on, ready to work his first shift. He’s going to suck, dropping plates, burning food, forgetting to dress burgers before they go out to hungry customers.”
Steve has to laugh at how right Billy is. He was just about the worst waiter and cook to have ever worked in a restaurant. He had no clue what he was doing, and there were many days where he was surprised that Billy didn’t kick him out, no matter how badly he needed the help, and there were a lot of other days where Steve was ready to throw in the towel, but he’d kept with it, determined not to give up on this like he had on law school, and he liked knowing he was lightening Billy’s load, even if it only got him groans of frustration and sighs of despair in return. Over time, he thankfully got better at both tasks, finding that he was actually a pretty good cook. He picks the letter back up, eager to get through the rest of the shortening stack.
“I promise the shitty times will end though. Soon, you won’t be able to imagine the place without Harrington there, telling bad jokes and bringing you coffee when your eyes start to droop in the evening, after you’ve had a long day at the shop and the diner, and then still need to go check in on Max.
Eventually, Max will be released from the hospital, and you’ll be happier than ever to have Steve around, to help Lucas moderate arguments between you and Max, while you get comfortable giving Max small freedoms, and she comes to understand why you’re so scared to let her out of your sight.
When Lucas finally has to go back to school, Mrs. Sinclair will try to step in and pick up shifts at the diner, and at first, you’re going to push back. You don’t want to take any more time and energy from that poor family, and you’re sure she has better things to do than do Max’s bidding as Max sits on a chair behind the counter telling her what to do.
Steve talks you into letting her stay, though. You need the help, and she’s willing to give it, and it’s another lesson in accepting that people care about you and Max and letting them help you. Between Mrs. Sinclair, Steve, you, and Max, as she starts to get stronger, along with Erica Sinclair waiting tables after school and on weekends, replacing your waitress who decided to go back to school, the diner actually starts to turn a profit, based on great food and fast, friendly service. When Lucas comes home for Christmas, he jokes that he can’t recognize the diner with more than a couple customers in it. For the first time, you’re going to feel like everything will be ok.
I promise you, things only keep getting better from here.
Love,
Billy”
“Dear younger me,
Now that you have your professional life somewhat under control, of course, you’re going to turn your attention to your personal life for the first time in a long time. I can tell you it won’t be easy to take that first step and finally accept that you need therapy. Nobody wants to admit that they need help, so it’s going to be a long battle of talking yourself in and out of it, but I can also tell you that once you commit to going regularly, and putting in the work to help yourself, things are going to be so much better.
You’re going to rush into things with Steve, but it’s important that you take time for yourself, to figure your shit out first. If Steve want this as bad as he’s been saying he does, then he’ll respect that you’re not ready yet, and wait until you are.”
Steve takes another sip of his drink, shaking his head at his own behaviour. To say he badly wants a relationship with Billy is the understatement of the century, and he’s far from quiet about it, confessing almost daily to Billy that he’s crazy about him, wants to date the heck out of him, hold his hand when they watch movies, make him dinner, tell anyone that’ll listen that Billy is his.
But for all of his enthusiastic rambling, he’s more than willing to wait until Billy’s ready. He doesn’t want to rush things, because he wants Billy to want it as much as he does, wants his heart to truly be in it. He doesn’t want Billy to date him just because it’s what Steve wants.
Over the past year, Steve’s come to learn that Billy’s not only literally the hottest guy Steve’s ever seen, he’s also selfless, caring, hilarious, hardworking, and secretly sweet, and Steve needs him like he needs air, so yeah, he’ll wait. He continues to read.
“My best advice for when thinking about Steve gets to be too much. Take a deep calming breath, a cold shower, or if that doesn’t work, think about seeing the ancient librarian at the public library naked. That should be more than enough to cool you down.
Love,
Billy”
Steve picks up the last letter, and slipping it out of its envelope, he unfolds it, noticing that it’s a lot shorter than the rest.
“Dear future me,
I know you’re panicking right now, sitting on your couch, biting your nails and nursing a beer, while you wait for Steve to read through the letters that you handed him tonight. You want him to know that you’re ready now, as ready as you’ll ever be to let him in, let yourself be loved and love him in return, and you can only hope that he feels the same way as he did this afternoon when he told you that he can’t wait to wife you up, whatever that means. Try to calm down. It’ll be ok.
So, hey Steve, if you’ve gotten this far, I’m ready. Bring your jammies, and we can have a sleepover. I promise not to run in the morning, and if you wake up early enough to make me cum a second time before breakfast, I’ll make you pancakes before we head into work.
Love,
Billy”
Steve slips on a pair of sandals and grabs his keys, running so fast for his car that he doesn’t realize until he’s halfway down the driveway that he’s not wearing a shirt. It doesn’t matter though. He’s gotta see about a boy.
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HIHIHIIHI!!! i luv luv LUVVVV your writing!! you're one of my favorite writers on this app fidhuhgseuhsdfsifj ><
may i request some fluff (or smut; whichever you prefer!) with leon wherein the reader is an artist, and she has this lil notebook filled to the brim with sketches (whether that be normal sketches or... spicy ones) of leon but she hasn't shown leon the notebook BUT he ends up finding it and teasing her??
AND (if you DO write it as smut) WHAT IF READER DREW SOME SKETCHES OF SEX POSITIONS AND LEON USES THOSE POSITIONS WHE THEY HAVE SEX!?!??!?!?!? I'M GOING CRAZY OVER THIS THOUGHT RN DJFHSIDFUHIU
keep up the good work with all the writing you do!! you're an amazing writer, and i hope you have a great day :>
Hello my angels!! Thank you guys again for 400 followers im forever grateful for you guys. i was so fond of this little plot i HAD to write but it’s def not my best. Happy monday <3
DISCLAIMER: This is an 18+ blog! If you are underaged or don’t have an age indicator in your bio, please don’t interact!
AFAB Artistic reader x Pre Re4 Leon
Warnings: Leon’s a little tease. Mentions of ripping clothing, couch sex, Leon’s pretty soft in this :)
Word count: 3,050
Meeting Leon was just a lucky coincidence, almost four years ago now. The worst job you swore you’d ever had, but that changed once you met Leon. Instead of typing the files in the computer, your foot tapped against the marble flooring.
“That’s really good.. Do you draw often?”
You slammed your notebook shut, scared your boss had caught you again. Your eyes glanced up to the man peering over the desk, a tight gray t-shirt on and a pair of cargo pants.
“So sorry, sir. Are you here for training?”
Your fingers pressed against the keys of your desktop as you stared up at him, waiting for an answer. He looked like his ego had been beaten down when you didn’t reply to him, nodding his head at you.
“Yeah, um, Kennedy, Leon.”
You wrote his name down on the paper, handing him the small slip with a grin.
———-
She was new, I think. Her hair was pulled into that pretty bun, dazed as ever. Pretty pencil skirt and an off-white long sleeve. Beautiful handwriting, too, Leon’s thumb brushing over the slip in his hand, pulling out his wallet to shove the slip inside.
The next day he hoped you’d be sitting there, looking bored out of your mind. His arm pushed against the heavy glass door; he couldn’t help but smile seeing you at your desk. Why is he smiling?
“Busy day?”
Leon couldn't help but smile as you jumped in your seat, slamming the notebook shut- again. Your little smile tugged at your glossed lips as you held at the pen, scribbling his name.
“Goodbye, Leon.”
Your teasing voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He grabbed the red slip in your hand, dragging the bag off your desk as he walked down the hall again.
——————
For days, even weeks after. Leon would always ensure he showed up early, fascinated by your presence and the way you scribbled his name on the notepad on your desk when he would say something to make you blush.
“Hey, so… remember that sushi restaurant I told you about?”
Leon’s first words as he walks up to the desk, placing his bag on your file as you roll your eyes, nodding up at him as you type something into the computer.
“What about it?”
You ask as you push your rolling chair back, waiting by the printer as it turns on. Your head leans back as you look at him. He looked handsome as ever today. His training was working, that’s for sure, his shoulders being so much broader and his arms becoming so defined with muscle.
“Well, today is my last day of training. Did you want to go out with me as a celebration?”
It wasn’t for celebration; Leon just finally had an excuse to ask you out. Spending almost three months talking to you and getting to know you, yet he has never asked you to dinner. Your face lit up as you rolled back to the computer, stapling the papers together and using it as an excuse to cover the bright red that invaded your cheeks.
“Sure- what time?”
You asked up to him, clearing your throat as your hand rubbed your cheek to make it seem like you weren’t blushing. Cute, Leon thought as his tongue brushed over his bottom lip.
“Seven? I can pick you up.”
Even offering to pick you up? Your heart was in your throat as you nodded shyly, smiling as you wrote your address on a sticky note and handed it to him.
“I’ll be ready.”
You handed him his pass along with the sticky note of your address, his eyes reading over the number over and over before he smiled at you, tapping your desk a few times and walking down the hall as he does every single day.
———-
Why so shaky? The knocking on your door echoed through your living room, your hands brushing through your hair again as you did a small circle in your mirror.
You thanked god you wore heels, quickly glancing through the peephole to see Leon. He made your heart jump just by standing there. You swore he looked you up and down when you opened the door- but this was one-sided. You were so in love with him. Your coworkers make fun of you when you’re on your break, eyes following him from the expansive open training rooms.
Obsession was a strong word- but even you could admit it was getting to the point of obsession. You hoped after he left the facility, you wouldn’t have to see him again, especially since it was his last day, but he just had to ask you to dinner, didn’t he?
“Are you ready?”
Leon asked as he looked around your apartment, scanning all the books on your shelf. You wanted to say yes, but your hand reached up, your eyebrows frowning as you noticed you weren’t wearing the necklace your brother had gotten you.
“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be back.”
He couldn’t help but watch you walk down your hallway, fingers tapping at your sides like at work. Snoopy, maybe. His eyes darted down to the notebook on your coffee table. It’s the one you always have on your desk. Light purple with random stickers all over the front and back. His fingers traced over where your name was carved before he looked down to the hall to check if he was clear to look through it. The first few pages are drawings of the statues at work, the plants, yourself, and your glossy lips. His eyebrows frowned at the empty pages, going on for almost five before he finally saw it. His name was written in your pretty cursive; below was the soft sketch of his face, his handsome smile, and the small indent in his chin. Sketch after sketch of him leaning over your desk with the cheekiest smile.
The next page sketches his lips, his tongue darting out slightly through the corner in one and pressed together in another. Sketches of the way his eyes sparkle next to them.
His slender fingers traced the page looking at the sketches of his arms, some with his knife in his hand, some just holding a water bottle. He peeped his head down the corner of the hallway again, hearing the echo of your voice on the phone. His fingers moved before his eyes as he flipped the page, his cheeks flushing a deep red at the sketches of his hands rubbing up your waist. Now he was paying attention, graphics of his fingers in your mouth, your legs thrown over his shoulders, his head thrown back, and his Adam’s apple more than prominent.
“Leon?”
You stuttered, your heart pounding against your chest. Your breath feels so caught in your throat, your eyes staring at his hands holding the spine of your notebook. You blink into reality, snatching the notebook from him as you firmly have it against your chest.
“Why.. would you go through my things..”
You laughed, embarrassed, as Leon stared at you. His presence was now super overwhelming. He just.. stared at you. Great, now he hates me? He thinks I’m so weird…
“Why’d you just leave it out?”
What? Jesus fucking Christ, what?
“It’s my apartment; what do you mean..”
You laugh bitterly as you push the notebook onto your shelf, your hands slightly shaking.
“I didn’t draw any of that. I left it at work for a few days, so maybe it was stolen or something.”
There we go. Perfect excuse. Leon’s feet shuffled till he was standing beside you, pulling the notebook off the shelf next to you.
“Alright, that’s understandable. If they aren’t yours, you wouldn’t mind me looking through them again.”
Your face flooded with embarrassment. Your back turned to him as your eyes squeezed shut at the sound of him flipping through the pages.
Leon felt his pants grow tighter at the sketch of your pretty folds wrapped around his cock, then the illustrations of just your pussy made his cock grow painfully harder, your eyes shifting between the notebook and the bookshelf. There were pages after pages of just Leon and you, sometimes just Leon, small notes here and there. The last page is a sketch of the two of you hugging and a small note
“Seven, Leon’s sushi place”
Leon, yet again, closed the notebook, laying it on the shelf as you held your arms, sighing at his silence. His hand rubbed your arm softly, taking your hand in his. He rocked behind you, resting his cheek on the side of your head.
“Cmon’ let’s go eat.”
———-
The drive back to your apartment was so silent. Your head spun as you looked out the window, admiring the pretty night sky. Leon’s handheld at your thigh, his thumb rubbing small circles on your smooth skin. Biting at your nails nervously, your head turns to Leon. Why did he have to be so handsome? Hand gripping the steering wheel, hair perfectly rested against his cheek. The white button-down he wore fit him so perfectly. He believed you, right? You felt guilt in your heart, thinking about how you sat at your desk, legs crossed so close together at the thought of Leon fucking you stupid. It’s not everyday you meet a man like him. You craved him, but you would never tell him that. Leon’s car stopped, your daydreaming stopping as he pulled his keys and shoved them in his pocket. What a gentleman, he opens your door for you, holding his hand out. Your hand grabbed at his as you stepped out, holding your purse to your side as you whispered a small thank you to him as you reached for your keys.
The two of you stopped in front of your door, your heart starting to ache at the thought of never seeing him at work again, all the conversations you guys have had. The silence was uncomfortable now; you looked up at Leon with a slight frown before you reached up and brought him in for a tight hug, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as he hugged you back.
“I’m going to miss seeing you every day.”
You laugh into his shoulder. He laughs back in response as he pulls away from the hug, your hand reaching to unlock your door as he watches you. You step inside your dark apartment, looking at him from the door with a gentle smile still on your face.
“I’ll call you, I promise.”
Leon speaks as he watches you stand against the door frame.
“Bye.”
“Bye, Leon.”
The door slams. Why are you going to cry? Is it because he thought you were a massive creep? You held onto the wall as you kicked off your heels, sighing in frustration as you threw your purse to the ground. Your body jumped at the pounding at the door. Though you were taught better, you swung it open. Leon stood his hands on his hips, staring at the ground.
“Le-“
Leon pushed his way into your apartment, his perfect hands cradling your face as he smashed his lips into yours. Your feet struggled to keep up with him moving you back into your living room. Where did this come from? His hands hungrily gripped at your hips, your thighs hitting the arm of your couch. Leon's head dipped down your neck, pressing his tongue to the softness of your skin.
“Leon, wait..”
Your eyes flutter open as you reach down, grabbing his face. Leon stared up at you, his breathing labored.
“What happened?”
Your thumb rubbed across his cheek as he stood, pulling you in closer to him.
“You think I don’t want you? Do you know how hard it was not to bend you over this couch after flipping through that notebook?”
He grumbled as he turned you around, pressing his palm up your back as he bent you against the arm of your sofa. Your back arched in response as you looked back at him with red cheeks.
“Every word I've ever said to you makes you blush like that, you know.”
He’s right. But it’s hard not to blush when he compliments your every detail. Leon’s fingers dragged the zipper down your back, his lips following. So much softer than you had imagined. He stood again, tugging at your sleeves, smiling at your bare back. You gasped as you heard a slight tearing, your head flying back to see Leon had ripped your dress. Leon chuckled as the fabric of your dress dropped to the ground, his hands brushing over your hips.
“I’ve always loved watching you grab papers, your hips swaying.”
Leon smirks against your shoulder, his lips pressing against your neck again, your breathing shaky as he sucks at your skin. His pretty lips leave red patches all over your skin that will later be small purple markings that’ll be so prominent. Leon lifts himself, grabbing you to lie on your sofa, smiling down at you as his fingers work at unbuttoning his shirt.
It all felt like a dream, Leon’s shirt dropping to your floor as he tugged his dress pants down his legs. Hypnotized by him, the way his arms flex when he comes to hover over you, his hands holding at your thighs as he drags you further down the couch, his lips pressing against yours again. Leon’s lips ghosted over your skin as he stared at you through hooded eyes. Your eyes roll slightly when his fingers press over your clothed clit, rubbing small circles into you as he licks over your chest, leaving his marks on you there too. Your hips buck into his hand, a laugh coming from his lips as he pulls back, staring down at you as he pushes your panties aside, his fingers slipping into you with ease. Your mouth hangs open slightly as you stare at him.
“So wet.. all for me?”
Leon’s voice was so husky, so different than it usually was; you couldn’t help but let out a moan as his fingers dragged over your walls, your body lifting onto your shoulder as you looked down, your hips tilting up slightly to watch his fingers push in and out of you. The feeling was intoxicating, your head throwing back as he used his other hand to rub at your clit.
“You like watching? Watching how greedy this little pussy is..”
Leon couldn’t help but moan himself as you tightened around his fingers, his eyes staring down at you, sucking in his fingers. He groans as he tugs his boxers down, a whine leaving your lips at the feeling of his fingers no longer filling you. His hands grab at the back of your knees, holding them with one of his larger hands as his other hand grabs ahold of his cock, which was painfully hard. His lips parted slightly as he pressed himself into you, his grip around your leg tightening at the feeling of you squeezing him. He was so thick, so much bigger than what you could handle, a whimper leaving your lips as he pushed himself into you more. His hand drops your legs resting against his waist as he leans over you, grabbing at your jaw to pull you into a sloppy kiss, his tongue pressing into your bottom lip as he fully bottoms himself into you, causing you to gasp into his mouth. Leon let out a soft whimper as he leaned up, holding at your thighs as he rocked into you. You looked so beautiful finally lying below him; he had waited for this too fucking long.
“You look so fucking beautiful taking me like this..”
Leon groans down at you as your hands reach for his shoulders, pulling him back down to press his chest against yours as his speed increases. His face comforts your shoulder as your hands grab at his back, your nails scraping at his back as he lifts your hips, the new angle making him hit that perfect spot.
“I- Leon!”
Leon nodded his head as he looked down at you, forehead glistening with his sweat and his hair sticking to his skin.
“I know, baby, I know.”
He knew because you were gripping him so tightly, he was fighting his hardest not to let himself go inside of you, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he watched you squirm beneath him, warmth flooding your stomach and your breaths increasing as he pushed his palm into your stomach. Random babbles leave your lips as your arm comes up, covering your face as you cum around him, your walls fluttering against him, causing a loud groan to escape his lips as he pulls himself out of you, moving your hand from your stomach as his cum splatters all over your soft skin.
You two stare at each other, catching your breath. His arms reach forward, moving your arm from your flushed face.
“There you are.”
He mumbles as he kisses you softly, standing up and reaching down to pull up his boxers. He’s gone for almost two minutes, yet you’re still lying on the couch, eyes studying the ceiling.
“You organize your laundry room weirdly.”
Leon’s voice makes you tilt your head, watching him walk back into the living room. He leans over, wiping your stomach with the small rag in his hand, your lips tugging into a smile as you reach forward, touching his face. He peers down at you, smiling back as he helps you sit up, his fingers pushing your hair behind your shoulders.
“You want a shower?”
He asks softly as he sits beside you and wraps his arm around you as you lean your head against his shoulder.
“I just want to be with you.”
You mumble, your eyes closing as you wrap your arms around his waist.
“I’m not leaving anytime soon; I think you’re stuck with me.”
Leon speaks as he lifts your chin, kissing your forehead softly before he stands up, lifting you over his shoulder, causing a loud squeal to leave your lips as he taps the skin of your thighs with a smile.
“Let’s shower. Then you can show me more drawings, yeah?”
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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Ok so I’ve had this idea for a bit and since your requests are open now I thought I would ask!
Hazbin Hotel: Charlie asks reader to do some paperwork or something for her while she is away Angel decides he wants his partner’s attention but he is busy so Angel decides he will ‘help’ from under the desk.
I also thought it would be funny if Al or Husk where to come in to ask him something and since they wouldn’t be able to see Angel I highly doubt he would stop his ‘helping’
Love these kinds of scenarios!
Pairing: Angel Dust x Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, oral sex, teasing, almost getting caught, dirty talk
A/N: Angel is 100% the kind of guy who would do this and feel 0 shame.
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Angel has had a mischievous streak long before you met
He's not scared to show how much he wants you, weather it be in public, in private or while you're working
But he's also needy, oh he's very needy, and when Angel is needy there's very little that can keep his horniness at bay
"Working again babe? Shit, I was hopin' ta get ya all ta myself today." Angel was already very flirtatious, even you telling him that you need to do these papers for Charlie didn't deter him
"And where the bossy little Princess anyway? Am I just suppose ta wait here?" He was annoyed but yes, that was the thing he was supposed to do, not the the thing that he did do however, "I didn't see ya all day. At least let me offer ya a helping hand."
Naturally you would have been happy if he did help you out, you'd finish up faster, Angel had other help in mind, one that involved more... moaning on your part
He walked up behind you and bend down just a little to run his hands over your shoulders, your first thought was that he was giving you a massage
Nope, he tilted your head and gave you a kiss, "Ya know me dollface, I'm a very hands on kind of guy." Hands, and mouth actually
He grinned while he took his place between your legs, your eyes wide as you looked down at him while his hands undid your pants
"What's the matter?" He smiled up at you before he licked over you with his mouth, your underwear pooling around your legs, one set of his hands now caressing your thighs, "Don't ya want my help? Seems like ya do. Yer so fuckin' wet I don't even need to use my mouth."
A whine tore from your throat when he inched closer, his tongue seemingly everywhere, tasting you like this is his first time doing so, he was so hungry for you
This was certainly not helping you, you needed to focus yet all your could focus on was Angel's expert tongue and his fingers, his smug grin as it pressed against your inner thigh
"Say ya want me sweetheart. Say ya want to get off on my face. Say it any I'll give ya the best orgasm of yer afterlife." It wasn't just his need for praise or to feel wanted, he meant it too, he always did his best for you
The words rolled off your tongue in your sinful confession, and his delight
Angel's head started moving faster, back and forth, to the side so he can bite you, mark you, feel you squirm
Alastor's voice made your head snap up and your legs close around Angel's head, pushing him even closer
For whatever reason, even though Alastor was in the office and looking for him, Angel still flicked his tongue over you, getting another rush of wetness going and a tight, uncomfortable heat building, threatening to explode even while you were talking to your friend
"I would have spread ya open on the desk if ya let me." He whispered against you when the door closed and you were alone, "Hell I'd let ya fuck me in front of him. I'm a slut remember, I get off on that shit. And by how ya were squirmin and moving yer hips I'd say you do too."
You tell yourself you have more control then that, that's what your mind is telling you, your body however is positively singing a whole different story
Angel gets you to finish all over his face, shit you almost fall over from the force at which your orgasm hits you, his hands keep you close, his tongue slowing down to a gentle, slow, featherlike strokes
"Next time I'll get some toys, I wanna have lots of fun too. Did ya... finish?" He emphasizes the words as he grins like a Cheshire cat between your legs
Damn he's way too cute for you to be angry at
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serotonins-stuff · 1 year
Text
BROKEN SWITCH - K. KOZUME
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♡︎ Includes: Kenma Kozume
♡︎ Sypnosis: You accidently break your boyfrinds nintendo switch right before he gets home from work.
♡︎ Warnings : Reader accidently hurts fingers while undoing screws, little bit of angst, FLUFF!!!
♡︎Kenma is a bit ooc in this!!
Reader and Kenma are aged up and living in their own apartment.
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Crap.
You sat on the kitchen floor, panicking while water seeped out of Kenmas Nintendo switch.
Before this, you had been getting ready for a bath, unaware that your boyfriend's switch was in the pocket of his hoodie that you were wearing.
All you saw was his black very expensive switch laying at the bottom of the bathtub and you lost your train of thought.
You shook the device in hopes to rid of some water, knowing it won't be enough anyway.
Kenma was due to get home any second now and if you were being honest you were as scared as hell. Not only because you wouldn't know how he'd react -but because you knew how seriously he'd take his gaming career. You would feel guilty about him losing all his progress simply because you were being clumsy.
What if you've ruined some very Important information that can't be brought back?
You panicked more while undoing the screws on the switch. You dried it out whatever you could with a paper towel, but it was still no good. No matter how many times you pressed the on button, it just wouldn't switch on. You even put it in rice for a bit but there was no luck.
Not only were you freaking out but now your fingers had cuts all over them from nervously handling the screws and screwdriver.
"Maybe a hairdryer will do the trick-
the sound of keys fiddling with the front door ran your blood cold. You were frozen in place, your boyfriend's footsteps sounding in the house.
"I'm home" he spoke loudly, expecting you to appear from somewhere to give him your usual greeting. Instead he was met with silence, followed by some rustling in the kitchen.
"Love?" he called out with a raised brow, and before he started looking for you, you hid the console behind your back. Jumping up from your position on the floor.
"Hey Ken" you smiled suspiciously, not moving from your position.
He raised a brow skeptically, obviously aware that something was going on. "No hug today?"
"My hands are dirty from gardening" you lied , moving backwards as he inched closer.
You didn't want to turn around and walk normally or else he would see what you were trying to hide, but you couldn't look back to see where you were going either, or else he'd sneak up on you. You trusted the little luck you had and just hoped that you would not fall.
Luck was not on your side when you tripped on the carpet and started flastartedone hand in hopes of not falling on the floor. You must have looked silly to hide this thing, but you had to at least try to fix it before he could be disappointed. Your boyfriend caught you just in time to give you a soft landing on the fluffy carpet. He sat right in front of you, legs crossed while he stared at you with an amused expression.
"You're a bad liar" he stated while holding the hand that had not even a spec of dust on it.
He figured you out too quickly.
He was not annoyed with you in the slightest, he thought you looked very cute trying to hide something from him with your awful deception skills. The last time you showed this type of behavior was back in high school when you accidentally dropped his phone at Kuroos birthday party-
That's when it clicked "Did you break something?" he gazed into your eyes with a steady tone. When you avoided his eyes and started shuffling uncomfortably he realized he was right. He wasn't going to ask you what is it that you broke, he decided to just give you time while caressing small circles on your palm. If you were going to tell him about it he did not want to push you.
Or maybe he's wrong and you didn't break anything. Could you be trying to tell him bad news?
After a few minutes of silence and Kenma caressing you, the panging of your heart subsided and you glimpsed at his delicate face.
The delicate face that has shown you nothing but love for the past few months of your relationship. The delicate face that kisses you to sleep after playing video games with him.
The delicate face that is patient with you even when you're being difficult.
He might have not vocalized it but he looked like a very impatient puppy right now-making you you want to burst into giggles.
"Promise you won't get mad at me?" You tightened the hold on your intertwined hands, a small smile appearing on your face.
"I would never"
You extended the hand you hid behind your back, displaying the worn-out console "It fell out of your pocket when I was running a bath......"
Kenma gradually but dramatically clutched a hand over his heart, slowly slumping backward and sticking his tongue out to play dead.
Before you got to know Kenma-you would've sworn he'd just be a mean, introverted gamer but he was so much more than that. He makes jokes and expresses a lot more emotion and admiration than his looks portray.
He earned a giggle from you, and you were now relieved at the fact that he wasn't angry with you at all. You could also see him sigh in relief- possibly from the fact that he was expecting you to tell him something way worse.
"So you're not angry with me?"
He jerked upright from his position on the floor, swiftly tugging you flush against him. You were now sitting on his lap as he hugged you close, his face in the crook of your neck.
"I thought you were going to tell me something bad" he caressed your back "You had me scared for a sec"
From the silence and distance you were showing him earlier, he thought he wasn't going to get you to open up.
"So you aren't angry with me?" you snuggled up closer to him, enjoying his warmth.
"Not even a little bit"
You huffed another breath of relief, and he picked up the switch."This is nothing ok?"
You nodded.
"I dont want you stressing over things I can easily replace" he said. "I have a spare one which I bought a while ago in case this one broke"
Of course he has a spare.
"What about all the saved progress in your video games?" you asked attempting not to seem so anxious anymore but the shake in your voice failed you.
"I can just transfer it"
"Can I help?"
He chuckled at your eagerness. How was he supposed to say no to such a cute face? But he had to get you in peak condition first.
"Let's get your fingers bandaged up, and I'll warm up the bath again ok?"
"Ok " you answered and he planted a lengthy kiss on your forehead.
"Love you baby"
"I love you Ken"
____________
The end~
Requests are open!!!!
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kairiscorner · 8 months
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hihiii pookie :DD!!
tw// mentions of depression
i'm wondering if you could maybe write a comfort fic about miles 42 with a reader who hates asking for help even when theyre clearly suffering in silence because they were taught to just 'suck it up' and deal with it alone as a kid?
you dont have to write this if you dont feel comfortable with it <33
Thank you pooks :33!!
hi pooks @jrrantss <:DD oh man, okay so i was kind of that kid back then too (though i was a big crybaby) it's like the adults around me didn't fully comprehend why i was feeling the way i was, so in response to that, they basically condemned crying at home or in front of them. i'm sorry if you went through something similar or, hopefully not, something worse ;-; i hope this provides you some comfort, and in a way, might also let you know you aren't the only one going through stuff like this. i'm here for you pookie, all the time <:)
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
you can be honest with me. – miles 42 x reader (angst + comfort)
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nothing went your way this week, hell, you couldn't even remember a week in your life when anything felt right, when you didn't feel that you were holding yourself back from letting go of everything that felt wrong, awful, and just... painful. you were too good at keeping secrets, too good at lying about how you really felt; and that was something you hated about yourself, how you found lying as your first nature, not your second. you lied to people when they'd ask you if you were doing okay, if your day was going alright–you always gave them the answers they want to hear, that you were fine, that nothing was wrong.
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but when everything just comes crumbling down, and the cracks in your facade begin to show and become more obvious... you get more and more defensive, more and more angry, more and more... scared and worried about these feelings that are hurling themselves at you so quickly that you can't even begin to understand why they're affecting you so badly–why people can see the bare you now if you just turn your face to look at them or open your mouth to speak; and your boyfriend was the first person to see you this way, vulnerable, yet trying all you can to avoid that vulnerability while you're crumbling down.
"hey," miles calls out to you in a soft voice as he sees your back turned to him as you kept working on your assignments, hunched over at your desk with your brows furrowed together and your lips curved into a scowl. you had been avoiding him for a few days now–at least he thinks you might be avoiding him–and have acted very distant, very... out of it recently. you didn't turn your head around to face him, which prompted him to continue talking, hopefully so you could find a reason to face him and his worried eyes. "you've, um... you've been busy lately." "uh-huh." you hummed as you tapped the end of your pencil against your desk impatiently, racking your brain for the answer to the questions written down that all seemed to blur together as the shittiness of the previous days just irritated you even more, and the worst part was... you couldn't hide the fact you can't mask ot anymore.
miles' face contorted as he got more and more worried about you, not knowing why you were acting starkly different than the usual you, or the only you he was familiar with. he extended his hand out to you as he walked over, looking at your cluttered up papers on your desk and the smudged up marks on the paper from your erasures. "...is something wr–" "everything's fine, i'm fine, i'm just peachy!" "you don't sound very convincing." he said, his voice returning to his nonchalant, cool tone as he took a small glimpse at your face before you turned away from his field of vision.
he sat in the chair next to you and wrapped his arm around you in an effort to comfort you. "cielo, sonething's up with you. are you... are you sure you don't wanna let me help?" he asked you with a soft voice, hoping he didn't overstep any boundaries as you slowly turned your head to show him a bit of your face. there were tears in your eyes, though you didn't dare let miles see them fall down your face; there was a sob stuck in your throat, but you didn't dare let miles hear it escape your lips. you had been there before, being severely troubled for more things than just homework–but never had you been advised to do anything than the age old phrases you've heard all your life as a kid: 'get over it.'
you took in a deep breath and tried to tell him what those words you've exhausted yourself from saying all the damn time–that you don't need any help, that you've got this, that you're okay... but your body's betraying you right now. it's betraying you for turning your back on your own feelings, but that... was never your fault, never. as you let out the breath you've been holding in, the hot tears came streaking down the ends of your eyes, your scowl morphing into a sad frown as you felt yourself slowly come undone and all the raging thoughts in your mind boiled down into one thought right then and there: 'fuck no, i am far from okay'.
you had one tear come down, then two, then... a whole waterfall of tears came pouring down your eyes as you finally released that sob you had been desperately keeping in. you had released it out into the air as it mingled with miles' shushing and gentle whispers as he held you while you leaned against him, wailing as you tried telling him how nothing had been right lately. you choked out in broken cries how you desperately wanted a way out of everything horrible that's been happening but you didn't want anyone else to be bothered by your 'stupid, insignificant problems'.
"i just... want to be okay... but i can't even pretend to be okay for at least one damn day." "please, stop pretending, mi vida. it's hurting me how you... how you think it's strength to rake up everything by yourself... when you clearly need help." miles said with a cracked voice as he felt himself choke up at your melancholic state. you cried even more out of guilt that you saddened miles, but he kissed your forehead, cheek–your whole face as he murmured words of reassurance, of love, to you to calm you down and comfort you. "you're not alone, not anymore... i don't care if some idiots in your life want you to deal with alone, never to bother them–you're never a bother to me, got that?" he mutters to you as he holds you close, letting you sob into his shoulder, your sobs getting louder and louder all the while. he shushes you and rubs your back gently, kissing your wet cheeks as he keeps reminding you that no matter what you're going through, what problems you're having, he's always going to be there for you–be the help you'll need, one way or another.
"please, don't be scared, mi vida... you can be honest with me. i promised to love you with all my heart, protect you, and... always be the help you'll need."
he whispered to you as he looked into your eyes and gently wiped your tears away and leaned his forehead against yours, hoping you would be more lenient, more understanding towards yourself and your own needs; and that you wouldn't hesitate to ask him for help. because even if you don't ask him to, he'll be there to help you, be there to guide you, be there to comfort you the best he can. because he loves you, and knows you deserve more than what you think you deserve, that you deserve... the best of the best, and nothing less.
tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fiannee @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless @q2ie @zalayni @anikaluv @conitagray
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