me: back on my bullshit again
the bullshit in question:
Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here! / Part 16 Here! / Part 17 Here! / < This is Part 18!>
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* Your eyes open, and your hand flies to your throat
* You’re thirsty
* You sigh as you sit up in your bed a little annoyed, you were having such a good dream too
* Only when you look to your night stand to grab your blood bottle, past it you see Edward sitting in your desk chair
* “What are you doing?” Your voice is gravely, and you don’t wait for a response before uncapping your bottle and taking a sip
* Edward fidgets, his hands tugging with the sleeves of his shirt
* “I like watching you sleep” he admits with a shrug and a boyish quirk of the lips.
* Of course the dork likes watching you pretend to sleep
* Somethings haven’t changed from the books at least
* Maybe he’s part owl or something
* “Ugh, it’s already Sunday where does the weekend go?” You mumble, it’s around 3 am right now
* To be fair you know half your Saturday went in self loathing in a tree, and the other half spent with your entire coven congratulating you and Edward on your new relationship
* “I call (Y/N) as my sibling the next time we move!” Emmett grins
* “That’s not fair, I was going to make them my sibling.” Jasper pouts
* “You already have Rosalie don’t get greedy”
* And then they all basically tried to plan out your wedding.
* So the pressure is on
* At least you still have all Sunday before you have to face everyone at school though. You haven’t even tried to look at your phone
* “Edward,” he perks up at the sound of your voice “were they really thinking vile thoughts about me?”
* His eyebrows thread together, head tilting to the side
* “Mike and Conner, you said they were thinking vile thoughts when you...came to get me.”
* It’s been bothering you for some time, Conner you can understand, but Mike?
* You feel....betrayed
* Edward averts his eyes, you’re half hoping he was lying to you and that he was just upset you were kissing other people
* “Were they thinking of r*ping me?” The second the words fall out of your lips he scampers closer, the chair screeching behind him.
* “No! No of course not-at least I don’t think so-“ His hand cups your face, the other cards through your hair. He sits on the edge of your bed carefully
* “They were thinking of taking you...”
* oh well that’s no so bad.
* “At the same time”
* So that’s a little worse
* “So they were thinking about a threesome?” Edward winces at the word but nods
* You let out a sigh of relief, a threesome is still kinda sketchy but that’s just normal teenage boy brain for you
* “At the time I didn’t appreciate their...vivid thoughts but” he looks into your eyes, like two pools of gold. “Maybe you wanted that.”
* He had acted instinctively upon seeing their thoughts, but in reality he wasn’t much better
* He had imagined that same needy expression on your face dozens of times
* Maybe... you might have enjoyed an experience like that. After all two lovers are better than one
* He’s stuck in his own self loathing until he hears you laugh.
* You’re actually laughing at him!
* He’s worried that you missed out on a vital human experience and you’re laughing!
* The nerve
* And yet, he feels his heart flutters when he see’s you smile at him
* “No, I’m good.” You laugh, and he feels himself let out a sigh of relief.
* “What about Jessica? Does she hate me now” Edward shakes his head
* “I think she might have a bit of a crush on you now.” He grins at your confused expression
* Well that’s unexpected
* You know you can’t really sleep but you feel exhausted, completely emotionally drained
* You snuggle back into the covers And pat the space on the bed beside you
* “Sleep with me?”
* Your face feels uncomfortably hot when you realize what you just said. “I just meant like-dream with me-not um no-“
* “I know what you meant” Edward says with a small smile
* He lies down on the other end of the bed, at least five feet away from you
* “You can come closer, you’re my boyfriend now, boyfriend privileges”
* He’s always thought the word was garish.
* A boy who was your special friend, how idiotic. But hearing the word tumble from your lips makes him unbelievably happy
* “What are boyfriend privileges?” He repeats carefully. Shifting so he is lying beside you
* “Normal couple stuff I guess, kissing, hugging, public affection-“
* and sex stuff
* “So I get to be as greedy with you as I want?”
* You feel your face grow warm at the thought of Edward being as greedy with your body as he wants
* The way his hands would feel as they ghost over your body, his sweet rosemary and argon scent filling the air
* You can’t manage to get out words so you just nod, and he grins
* “Let’s go out tomorrow”
* To like a hotel or?
* “We can go to the aquarium in Seattle, I think it’s supposed to rain so something indoors would be good.”
* Oh like greedy with your time
* That seems more on brand for Edward tbh
* “The aquarium sounds nice”
* You curl into his chest, breathing in his scent deeply. He feels warm, not as warm as a human, but soothing in its own right. A gentle warmth, like the warmth from a candle
* You feel so safe here with him. You feel yourself drift off into sleep, and Edward’s arms tentatively wrap around you
* Your weight is pressed against him, and he can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have you pressed against him even more
* Your hands clawing at his chest as you plead
* “Great now I’m the one having vile thoughts” he murmurs to himself
* You both sneak out early in the morning, while all your other coven members are still preoccupied
* “Grab a couple blood bags and I’ll get some tumblrs” you nod, shoving it all quickly in his nike backpack, and you both practically jog to your jeep.
* The drive feels a lot shorter than you remember, it’s only 10 when you get there.
* You sigh as you get out, you’re wearing faded blue jeans and a black coat that cinches at the waist
* Edward is dressed in a similar fashion, faded blue jeans, white shirt and a leather jacket
* Both of you wearing sunglasses
* You don’t miss the looks you get as you walk across the parking lot. You already get a lot of attention as is with the hot pink Barbie jeep
* But you and Edward together look like something straight out of a magazine catalog
* “Did you already buy tickets?” You ask, your arm linking through his.
* “Yeah, we just have to pick them up at the box”
* It’s actually pretty busy, it is a weekend day though so it’s to be expected
* “(Y/N)?” You turn to the voice and feel like the wind got knocked out of you
* “Jessica, Bella...” and there’s someone else with them, brown skin and long dark hair.
* Well he’s kinda hot, for a human that is
* “What are you doing here?”
* They’re like the weirdest group for a Sunday hang out
* “My Dad had some tickets, he was going to come with my mom but I guess they got in a fight or something.”
* You get the feeling that there’s more to it than that, but you’re just happy she’s talking to you after you kissed her without consent
* “Oh um , this is Jacob we’ve been friends since we were kids.”
* So this is Jacob, he looks older for his age.
* “Hey Jacob nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N)” you extend your hand and you see him stiffen for a second
* Yeah that sounds about right. All humans get afraid when they first me et you, you are technically their natural predator after all. He seems to get over it and grasps your hand
* “Hey, nice to meet you”
* “Do you go to school with us?”
*You know he doesn’t, but you’ve found it best to pretend in this situation.
* You glance at Edward who hiding a twitching smile, looks like he heard something interesting
* “No I go to school on the res, I’m a sophomore.”
* Oh a sophomore, younger man is more her speed huh? And they’ve been friends for years, he’s to her what Edward is to you
* You ship it
* “Do you guys want to join us?”
* You can feel Edward’s eyes piercing you in the back. Yeah you know this is a date, and he probably wants some quality time with you or whatever-
* But it’s not like you’re f*cking after or anything
* And honestly you kinda wanna see how this whole Bella-Jacob ship plays out
* “Well I don’t-“ Bella starts
* “We’d love to!” Jessica interrupts, and then taking a nervous glance at Edward she adds:
* “That is if you don’t mind?”
* Queue everyone looking at Edward. He looks at you, a small pout bowing onto your lips and let’s out a deep sigh
* “No of course not, I’ll get the tickets and meet you at the gate.” He says with a resigned smile
* He leans down, catching your lips in his. You know you don’t have a beating heart, but you feel it stutter when he pulls away and smiles at you
* “See you in a bit daring” and then he walks towards the empty “reserved pass” line
* (Y/N).Exe is broken
* And you would stay broken if Jessica and Bella didn’t each grab a shoulder and shake you.
* “Oh my god what was that?!?!” Jessica shrieks
* “Are you guys like...dating now?” Bella grins
* “Yeah, I guess we are?” The human part of you understands that you’ve just agreed you feel the same, and that you have just started a relationship
* But the vampire part of you, the primal part, knows it’s so much more than that
* He’s your mate
* And saving any major changes, he is yours for as long the universe will permit
* “Wait are you guys on a date right now?” Jessica asks, and it pulls you right out of your thoughts
* She’s worried she’s intruding
* “No-I mean maybe? Honestly we both just wanted an excuse to get out of the house.” You sigh
* “Are the rest of the Cullen’s not taking it well?”
* You do live together, and you’re at that age. Sure Emmett and Rosalie and together, but that seems to be under more transparent circumstances
* So imagine her surprise when you card your fingers through your hair
* “No they’re taking it too well!”
* Last night you basically rotated between coven members as they all told you how happy they were you were with Edward now
* “Honestly I thought the nerd would never find the nerve” Emmett confided in you
* “Eleazer you’ll never guess what happened....we’re going to be brothers!” You had heard Carlisle tell Eleazer over the phone before breaking down into tears
* “Carlisle stop crying, the venom is going to make a hole in the floor.” Esme shouted before turning her attention back to you
* “So what colors do you like (Y/N)? I’m partial to gold and white myself-“ she said pointing the color combination examples in her wedding book
* They were driving you crazy.
* “Carlisle keeps rotating between smiling and crying because ‘two kids are leaving the house’ and Tanya called to give me the most smug speech about it- I just need a break.”
* You sigh
* “Wait-did all of this happen after the party?” Bella asks with a smile creeping onto her face
* Before you can answer though, you see Edward walking towards you
* “We’ll talk about this later” Jessica whispers, not that it matters, going on the smirk on Edward’s lips he already heard everything
* “So Tanya called you huh?” He whispers in your ear when the others move ahead
* His breath fanning against your ear causes your stomach to flip. You’ve been around him so long, you almost started to forget how hot he was.
* “Yeah, she’s basically hoping I crush your heart so she can get revenge.”
* You’re mostly joking, but given past history, you know she wouldn’t mind if that’s how things turned out anyway
* “That’s fair.” He looks almost sad. What the hell happened between them to make him like this?
* You want to ask, but you feel like now isn’t the best time. Not when Jessica and Bella are a mere five feet away arguing about whether to see the jellyfish or penguins first
* So you do the only thing you can: You reach out and hold his hand, squeezing it slightly. Edward doesn’t say anything, he just squeezes back
* It’s a pretty nice day, Bella’s dad bought her a digital camera so you take a bunch of cheesy pictures around the aquarium
* “Oh try to get one like a shark is eating us! Like I’m in Jaws!”
* “You know they’re an endangered species and that stupid movie doesn’t help right?”
* “There is no ethical consumption under capitalism Bella”
* Edward just makes a pained expression as he holds up the camera. All he wanted to do was go on a date with his significant other
* “Girls am I right?” Jacob asks, extending his bag of popcorn
* For a second you think Edward might hate him, but instead a smile arch’s onto his face
* “You have no idea.” He smiles, taking a few kernels.
* Aw, it’s Edward’s first human friend 💖
* You kinda wish you were the one with a camera now, or at least a smart phone
* Instead you settle for a grainy picture on your flip phone. They both look at you like confused puppy's when the shutter clicks
* “Aw that’s a cute one” Jessica coo’s
* “You even got a shark in the back” Bella says pointing to a blurry gray blob in the background
* It’s a good day
* You’re almost sad when you have to part at the end
* “You sure you guys don’t want to come with us? Jessica’s dad is letting us have his reservation at the revolving restaurant in the space needle”
* You and Edward exchange a look
* “Nah it’s fine, I’m pretty sure Esme is wondering when we’re coming home”
* “She’ll be pissed if we eat there without here.” You add for good measure
* “Well alright we’ll see you at school tomorrow” Jessica says with a wave, and you smile
* “See you tomorrow”
* Looks like things are back to normal
* Edward drives on the way back
* You hold the plush sea turtle close to your chest as you watch him
* He really is handsome, chiseled cheekbones and full rosy lips. To add he has that mane of auburn hair, and that irresistible splatter of freckles across his nose
* The prettiest boy you’ve ever seen
* “I can feel you staring” he says with a smile twitching onto his lips. Oh god you want to kiss that stupid smile right off his mouth
* “What went wrong with you and Tanya?”
* Way to kill the vibe
* “I’m sure Tanya told you all about it.” He shrugs. There’s that sad look again
* “I want to hear about it from you though”
* And Edward might have denied you if your hand hadn’t found his, resting on top of it
* He grins
* You don’t play fair, do you?
* He sighs, squeezing your hand while keeping his eyes on the road
* “I just...didn’t like the way she thought about me”
* “Like you were a piece of meat?”
* He laughs
* “Like I was some charity case besides-“ he stops abruptly, looking at you before swallowing hard. “Never mind”
* “No tell me!” You lean forward cradling your hand intertwined with his against your chest and he chuckles, you really don’t play fair
* “ I didn’t-I don’t feel attraction to people unless-“
* He looks into your eyes, and you feel his fingers squirm against yours
* “Unless we’re friends first”
* Oh, he’s asexual.
* Somewhere on the spectrum for sure
* Is he coming out to you right now?
* You give his hand a squeeze
* “I get that.”
* You want to smack yourself.
* The boy you love just came out to you about his sexuality and all you can say is ‘I get that’
* You feel so useless
* But Edward doesn’t let you feel useless for too long, he squeezes back looking at you with such warm eyes
* And again you can’t help but think that even though his heart doesn’t beat anymore, he looks so human
* He’s just pulled into the driveway at the house, the car parked. He’s about to say something when you cut him off, tugging him closer to you and placing your lips on his
* If he’s surprised he doesn’t show it, placing his free hand on your shoulder and leaning a bit closer to you
* He’s so careful and gentle...and dazzling
* He’s barely touching you but you can feel yourself seeing stars
* That thing he does with his tongue-it’s indescribable
* Are you sure he’s a virgin?!?
* You can’t help the sigh that passes your lips when he pulls away. You’re still in a daze when he pulls you into his lap, one leg straddled on each side
* His head is tilted back, an easy smile on his mouth.
* You suddenly feel shy, that look in his eyes should be illegal
* “So-“ you lean back a bit “do you-um-do you have feelings like that for me?”
* He tilts his head to the side in confusion and you gulp
* “Y’know sexually speaking”
* He actually laughs at you
* Right there, when you’re only a handful of inches away from his face
* But you’re not annoyed, instead all you can feel is a rush of affection
* His eyes crinkle at the ends, his pearly white fangs sparkling as he grins. Your hands cup his face as he looks up at you with adoration
* You can imagine the rosy blush that would light his face so clearly, the deep emerald green of his eyes. You’re almost starving for the image you see in your mind to be real
* He pulls you out of the image with a simple touch. His arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer
* “I - like the rest of the entire student population at Forks High School- find you absolutely bewitching”
* The way he says it makes you shiver, and Edward’s hand trails up your back.
*He sits a little straighter, bouncing you slightly in his lap as he does, so you’re looking straight into his eyes
* “I find it hard to believe you don’t know that I have been dying inside everyday watching you walk around in those short shorts you love so much,” he whispers in your ear.
*“That I haven’t been dying to absolutely ravish you .”
* You gulp.
* It’s all you can do when he’s looking at you like that
* If you thought Garrett’s bedroom eyes were intense, then Edward is on an entire different level
* You feel your heart stutter, butterflies erupting in your stomach...and something else
* A certain heat you haven’t felt in a long time
* You’ve never seen him look at anything like that, like he’s hungry-
* Starving even
* His lips brush against your neck, trailing down to your collar bone and you sigh
* He really knows everything about you doesn’t he? All your sweet spots, all your stories, every one of your secrets.
* Your hand trails up his chest, entangling in his hair and a low gasp tumbles from his lips
* And then your phone rings
* You hear him groan, and you shake your head
* “Ignore it” you mumble, your mouth meeting his once more
* And you continue on for a few moments, until his phone rings
*He pulls away from you with a groan
* “Rosalie’s calling me a long list of profanities right now” he mumbles, you sigh pulling away to lean against the steering wheel
* It’s probably for the best, no point in getting too turned on when you knew he was going to say ‘you should wait until marriage’
* Like honestly, he died, and you died, and now you live an alternative lifestyle where literally nothing matters anymore
* But you’ll respect his wishes
* “Guess we should go inside” You sigh, you move to get off of him
* But just as your about to crawl off, he tugs you to face him once more
* His thumb brushes over your cheek, and those deep gold eyes bore at you with that same intensity as before
* He pulls you in for one last kiss, before getting out of the car and closing the door behind him
* “We’ll pick up where we left off later.”
* (Y/N).exe is broken
* You walk to the house slowly, like humans do
* “Are you ready?” He asks, holding out his hand
* You smile, placing your hand in his and nodding
* So imagine your surprise when you and Edward get inside, hand in hand, to find the entire coven is laughing in the living room.
* From where you’re standing you can only see Carlisle
* “Ah your home! Come, I want you both to meet someone-“
* You move forward but Edward stays rooted to the spot
* Three people come into view, a woman with flaming red hair, a man -no older than 25- with rich mahogany skin, and a dazzling young man with hair the color of the sun.
* “Meet our new friends, Victoria, James and Laurent”
* You turn to look at Edward, his mouth pinched into a frown
* Well F*ck
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A lot of ways to love you (teach me through your eyes)
Hournite Week Day 7: Love Languages
Summary: Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Gifts, Quality Time, Touch. Or, Rick, Beth, and their many languages of love.
Thank you for coming along on this first HN week journey with me! ❤️
Words of Affirmation
Beth found Rick by himself at the corner of their shared history class, carving his initials into the desk. She didn’t understand why he’d put himself there. It was like a brooding corner to be miserable.
“Hey,” she said, taking the seat in front of his desk. “What’s wrong?”
Rick dug deeper to splinter the wood. “They think I cheated on my chem test.”
Without asking, Beth unzipped Rick’s bag to pull out the test. Rick let her.
She gaped at him as she scanned over the F and comments from the teacher. He always treated Beth kindly when they passed in the halls, but she never actually had Mr. Geralds. Chemistry wasn’t her strong suit like Rick, but there wasn’t a doubt that she’d given some of the same answers with a great grade from the other science teacher. “Are you serious? That’s crazy. You’re going to contest that, right?”
“You’re not going to even ask if I did?”
“I know you didn’t, you’re too smart.”
“I used to steal shit,” he muttered under his breath and dropped his pencil. “Haven’t heard you say I’m too smart for that.”
Beth slipped his test into her folder to return to at a later time, right now focusing on Rick.
“Hey, that’s not fair.” When Rick wouldn’t meet her eyes, she leaned in closer. “Look at me.”
“You know you deserved a good grade. And you’ve done what you did to get by.” She glanced at the vandalism briefly. “There are people here who know you’re better than what the majority of the town thinks.” She lowered her voice to keep her next words between them. “You’re a hero. You’ve helped save everyone in this town. So show them who you really are.”
She smiled when he let out a small huff, she knew he was listening. “I’ll go to the principal’s office with you, and we can get Pat to vouch for us. We both know that for Chem you should be in AP.”
“It’s really not that big of a deal,” he lied, shifting uncomfortably from all her nice words.
“If it weren’t a big deal, you wouldn’t have done that.” She pointed at the roughened mess he’d made of the school desk. “I know you better than you think.”
Act of Service
“Has anyone seen Beth?”
Rick walked around the main area of Pat’s cabin. It was after 2 AM. Barbara and Jennie were making late-night comfort food in the kitchen. Pat was manning the first aid station, tending to Mike, Jakeem and Yolanda’s injuries from Sportsmaster. Courtney was bonding or something with the staff in some strange ritual she had after a life-threatening mission. Rick just stepped out of the shower, washing the grime from his arms and face.
“She’s upstairs, I think!” Yolanda called, holding her ribs from her seat on top of the table. Rick shook his head when Pat admonished her not to yell. Rick made it up the stairs two at a time, stopping when he found Beth with her packed school bag on the floor in front of the couch. She was searching through papers, openly crying. She hadn’t even taken her cape off yet.
Rick crouched down beside her. “Hey,” he said softly. She looked utterly exhausted. “Are you okay? You said you didn’t get hurt.”
“I’m not hurt.” She hiccuped, flipping through more papers, a little hysterical. It looked like it was for school. “I can’t find my math assignment. It’s due tomorrow morning.”
“Did you finish it?” he asked.
“I don’t remember.” She wiped at her tears as she cried harder. “I might’ve left it at home, I can’t find it. I’m too tired, I can’t think.”
“Yeah,” Rick agreed. His bones were weary but he had always felt the least affected after battling it out with the ISA. He suffered plenty of superficial cuts and bruises, but he hardly felt them because his hourglass really protected him. He couldn’t imagine the hit the night must’ve taken on Beth’s body. Pat was going to be driving them back to main Blue Valley at 4 or 5 o’clock in the morning to get them back to school. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a random Wednesday. It’s not like they had a choice.
“Did you ask Chuck?”
“No.” Her lip wobbled, face contorting into another sob. Rick regretted asking. It was clear she was far too drained. It would’ve been simple to have asked Chuck to scan her bag to find out, but she hadn’t thought of it.
“Okay, okay,” Rick said. “Go to bed. You’re not going to be able to do the homework now even if you found it.” Rick got up to get to the top of the stairs, calling down for Barbara.
When he returned, he helped her up and managed to get her to let go of her school bag. “We’ll look for it before we leave, okay?” Rick ran a hand through his damp hair, his own eyelids started to droop. “I promise you’ll get it done before school.”
Barb joined them upstairs and coaxed Beth to change out of her suit, leading her downstairs with her regular clothes and a promise of a warm bed and tea.
Rick followed to grab Chuck when Beth wasn’t looking, turning him on once alone to help identify if this alleged math homework was even in her bag. Together they found what she was talking about. Ten problems of pre-calc. She was right. It was rushed and not done.
Rick sighed, tucking it under his arm. He said goodnight to the rest and retired to his assigned room. He turned on the lamp on the desk where he first solved the code of his father’s journal, spreading out the assignment and using Chuck as a calculator. It dawned on him an hour later as he rubbed at his tired eyes how he would be staying up all night to finish homework that wasn’t even his.
Beth was immersed in her book when two hands landed on her collarbone. She looked down, touching the skin at the opening of her shirt when she felt the weight of something new at the base of her throat.
Rick murmured in her ear from behind. “An early birthday present.”
She let out a soft gasp when he finished with the clasp. A tiny brass hourglass pendant with sand just like Hourman’s trickled steadily beside her rainbow pendant.
“Woah.” She glanced up at him. “You got me an hourglass?” She bit down on her lip, dread creeping into her mind when she realized this had to be expensive. She struggled to voice what she was feeling out loud, but Rick must’ve caught the complicated expression on her face. He smoothed his hand along the sleeve of her cardigan and reassured her the cost didn’t push him into any kind of financial ruin.
“Did you not realize I’ve been working for Pat before school? I had some spare cash. Trust me, there’s nothing better I’d spend my money on.”
The puzzle clicked into place. Beth had been meeting Rick at the Pit Stop every morning before school for what felt like months now. It made sense he was there to work on the cars. Beth felt her face heat up at his implicit soft-spoken confession. “Thank you,” she said in a whisper, still in awe. The necklace was beautiful and she felt fuzzy ever since his hands were on her neck. “I love it.”
His eyes, usually hardened and defensive, skilled at warding off unwanted attention, now creased at the corners. Gentle, quiet, yearning, he watched her accept his gift. “I’m glad.”
Impulsively she asked, “Could you unclasp the rainbow one?”
Rick did. The chain pooled in her palm. She shook her head, pushing it to his chest. “You should have it.”
His brows furrowed in response. “You want to give me your... rainbow necklace?”
She flushed when he said it like that. She toyed with her new one, looking at him from beneath her lashes. “Well…” she said. “I have something of you, now you can have a symbol of me.”
Rick let out a small laugh. Beth was pretty sure if this were anyone else he’d say it was stupid, so she couldn’t help the surge of pride when he nestled her necklace around his own neck.
“How does it look?”
It was actually twisted. She flattened it so it would look the way it was supposed to over the collar of his shirt. Rick didn’t complain, but it was bright and cheery and clashed with his entire self. Beth bit her lip, withholding another laugh, and took pity on him, changing her mind to tuck the necklace underneath. “Perfect now.”
“Beth, I hate to interrupt this moment but you will be late for school if you don’t leave the Pit Stop in the next five minutes.”
Chuck broke them out of their weird double transfixion. They both found themselves smiling shyly at each other, neither truly wanting to move.
“Come on,” he said after another few moments of them smiling at each other without moving. “Put your bike in my trunk. I’ll drive you.”
When Rick stopped by at Beth’s locker, she was talking to Charity, a new close friend she made over the summer volunteering at the Blue Valley Community Centre.
“Hey,” Rick greeted, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, waiting for Beth to visit.
“Hey,” Charity said back. She swept her blonde bangs out of her face to continue their conversation.
“Charity had a great idea that we should enter for the sustainability case competition,” Beth filled in.
“We’re going to need at least a month to prepare. I was thinking we could meet Tuesdays and Thursdays after school?”
Rick stuck a hand in his pocket, sullen. Thursdays were their days, unofficially. Not that they’ve ever said so out loud, but with JSA training afternoons the rest of the week, Beth working on a case competition their days off basically meant not getting to see her. Which was fine. It happened. Rick just wishes it didn’t have to.
“I can’t on Thursdays,” Beth told her. She glanced up at Rick to give him a smile. He straightened up, meeting her gaze with obvious surprise. “Those are our nights.”
Charity paused, watching the two with curious eyes.
“We can cancel,” Rick found himself saying and actually meaning it. “You don’t have to stay on my account.”
Beth’s nose scrunched up as she shook her head, mind already made. “Nah. Sorry Charity, Thursday doesn’t work for me. Take out your schedule, maybe we have a shared free period somewhere.”
“Oh, yeah, sure! Okay!”
Rick ducked his head to hide his smile as Charity fished through her bag for her agenda.
When Beth stumbled out of the cell she’d been bound in, she hadn’t realized just how long she’d been gone. She was hungry and exhausted and felt horrifically dirty in her soiled Dr. Mid-Nite suit, but then she got a glimpse of Hourman nearly pushing the others in his rush to get to her all she could feel was relief.
Rick cupped her face, eyes squeezed shut as he held her close, his thumbs brushed along her cheeks, under her dry eyes. She felt the buzz of adrenaline rushing through him just by being so near, but the way he touched her was gentle, so gentle.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he whispered, a startling unfamiliar word to fall in succession like that, coming from Rick. His hands flew to the crown of her cowl, tugging it down to kiss her forehead again and again. “Thank you.”
I’m okay now, she tried to comfort him, though her words were choked, smothered out by the crushing weight of it all. He was crying as his lips brushed over her face. It wasn’t his stamina. The buzz, she felt. Rick was shaking. It hit her then, that maybe he wasn’t sure Beth was ever going to come back. Beth had scared him. He was scared.
Beth vaulted with her tired, numb legs, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck. Her mind went calm for the first time since before they left home, muscles relaxing as she let Rick scoop her up.
She was safe. She was home.
Beth was loved.
(ficlet I wrote at 3am)
(tw drinking, drunk sex, confessionals)
Now that Cas is human, he and Dean spend lots of time trying new things together (well, new to Cas). Dean loves the crinkly smile in Cas’ eyes when he likes a new food, or smells something unique. Something about the way his eyes glimmer like they’re trying to prove enjoyment with his grace, like muscle memory—maybe, Dean thinks, there’s still some left in his the angel. Just not enough juice to make a difference in a fight. He’d have Cas either way, any way, even, if he’d let him. But Dean doesn’t want to make things weird, and he couldn’t risk losing Cas again, not after just getting him back.
No. Dean won’t fuck this up. Finally having Cas around was more than enough. He could see him every day. And that was more than enough.
After a particularly difficult case where the group decided to split up in teams of two (Dean and Cas, Sam and Eileen), Dean was pumped that his team had finally beaten that vampire nest lingering three states wide. After calling Sammy and planning to meet back in the bunker, Dean and Cas slam Baby’s doors and start the journey back home. As Dean puts the keys in the ignition and revs the engine, Cas poses a question.
“Can we go to a bar?”
Dean laughs. “You. Wanna go to a bar? You don’t even like to drink.”
“I’m feeling celebratory. Besides, I haven’t really tried anything besides the beer you always have in the cooler or the scotch you hide in your room. There’s gotta be something I’d like.”
Making a U-turn, Dean smiles. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”
He lets Cas man the GPS, which he soon regrets, as Cas has picked a gay bar for the two of them to spend their night. He can tell before they even park the car by the amount of men leaving in pairs with hands in each other’s back pockets of their too tight pants, clothes already half off and open and chests heavily hickey’d as they pull the Impala into the lot. Something awakens in his chest, a longing that he could be brave enough to go home with a nice looking guy and have someone hold him while he let himself fall apart. He sees a couple in leather pants making out against the dumpster, and stares lost in thought. He wonders what Cas’s scruff would feel like against his cheek, his fingers tangled in his hair.
“Dean?” Cas scares him, bent over to talk to him through the driver’s side window. How long was I—?
Cas’ face is very close to his. He can feel his breath on his eyelashes.
He clears his throat. “B-back up, buddy, personal space.” Good recovery, idiot. He totally didn’t just catch you checking out the show over there. “We’ve been over this.”
“Okay.” Cas backs up, leaving space for Dean to roll up the window and open the door. They step into the bar, and Dean nervously sweats that this has the potential to go from really fun to quite a shit night real fast.
“Don’t you think we should try to fit in?” Cas says, half a glass into his spiked lemonade. Cas really seemed to like it, and Dean was glad that their venture out wouldn’t be for nothing. He made a mental note to pick up a pack of Mike’s Hard for the cooler next time he went on a beer run. Dean hasn’t had anything stronger than a Coke yet, extremely scared of letting his guard way down. If he made a move on Cas and he hated it, where would that leave them?
“What do you mean?” He says in Cas’ ear over a particularly loud part of a song.
“We look like we don’t belong here.”
“Take off your jacket.”
Dean shrugs the jacket off to reveal his maroon and navy flannel. He pushes up his sleeves. “Better?”
Cas gives a toothy smile, downs the rest of his glass. “No. That too.”
“What, you want a show?” Dean laughs as he ditches the flannel. Beneath it he has on a black t-shirt, gripping him just tight enough on his biceps. Cas’ hand scar peeks just below the hem of the short sleeve. It isn’t as red, and no longer hurts, but Cas traces it with his finger.
“I like that I’ll always be a part of you.” Cas says into his eyes, head cocked sideways, affectionately. Have Cas’ eyes always been that blue?
“I... like... you, um, being that too, Cas.” Dean can’t get the words from his brain to his mouth with Cas so close. Touching him. Little sparks of adrenaline leaping from the angel’s fingers and into his arm, straight to his heart.
“My turn.” Cas abruptly stops, to Dean’s disappointment. However, Cas starts to strip himself of his trench coat and blazer. In just his white collared shirt, he begins unbuttoning himself all the way down, exposing smooth and slightly damp skin. It glistens beneath the bar sign’s red lighting, sending Dean’s blood rushing to his ears. He watched the whole ordeal, and Cas watched him watch him.
Dean needs a drink. He orders a shot of jack. The bartender, pouring, eyes him back as if to say nice job getting with that one.
“Thanks.” Dean kicks back the drink. Upon lifting his head, he sees Cas kicking back his own shot.
“Nope.” Cas giggles. “Nasty.”
“You like the sweet ones. I like getting drunk as fast as possible.”
“You’re allowed to enjoy things, you know.”
“I… do,” Dean thinks, letting the wave of the shot hit him. He waves the bartender over for another. “I try to.”
“No you don’t, Dean.” Cas rolls his eyes. “You think too much. You plan, prepare. You’re always running.”
“You of all people know that there’s plenty of things to run from.”
“Yeah. Yeah, true. But sometimes you gotta…” Cas breathes, long, slow, a yoga breath. “Close your eyes. Feel the moment. ”
“Yeah, maybe.” He takes the second shot, asking for a third.
“Try it. Close your eyes.”
Cas puts his hand over Dean’s eyes. The edges by his fingers are prickly, probably dehydrated skin lifting by his nails, never drinking enough water because he never had to before. But his palm is soft, and he smells like his new shower soap, cinnamon. As Dean breathes per Cas’ directions, he inhales every bit of Cas’ scent, which calms him more than he’s been in a long time. He escapes in the smell, forgetting where they are, the shots hitting his empty stomach a little too hard. But he doesn’t care, letting the alcohol slosh with the butterflies he had been avoiding all evening. Cas, here, close. Cas, here, now. That is good.
When Cas lifts his hand off Dean’s face he places it on his shoulder. “How do you feel?”
Dean can only nod, grabbing Cas’ hand and placing it on his cheek. He holds it there with his own, afraid he might leave. But he doesn’t, and Dean thinks that counts for something.
“What are you thinking about?” Cas asks warmly.
Cas cocks his head, then has a look on his face like he understands what Dean is trying to say. “You like it?”
“Mhmm.” Dean closes his eyes again and leans into Cas’ palm on his face. He breathes in the angel’s spicy scent again, comfort washing over him.
“Hm.” He replies, eyes still closed.
Dean’s eyes fly open. “I… what?” His relaxed state instantly flares into panic, searching in Cas’ face for a sign of possession, evil, anything that would explain away this strange string of words coming from Cas’ mouth. This has to be a trap. A dream. An induced coma.
But Cas stands between Dean’s legs to grab his face in both hands and steadies his the hunter out of his fluster, hey, hey, hey. It’s me. I promise it’s me, his cobalt eyes say gently.
And Dean is overwhelmed. The shots have caught up to him, and his angel, Castiel is so close to his face his hands on his face and his blue eyes and the cinnamon and before his brain catches up to tell him not to Dean’s lips are already on Cas’, kissing him with so much force behind that he can barely stop himself from tonguing him down then and there. The second his thoughts catch up to him screaming what are you doing?! Dean feels Cas’ hands snake up to his hair and he knows it’s okay, he isn’t ruining anything, Cas isn’t running away. He puts his hands on Cas’ hips and he groans into his mouth.
It’s Cas’ boner sprouting against Dean’s thigh that breaks them out of their embrace.
“Car. Now.” Dean throws a fifty on the bar and the two race back to Baby holding hands, Dean leading.
Unlocking the backseat and laying down, Dean pulls Cas on top of him and resumes his frantic kissing, letting Cas bite him all over his neck. Now we’ll really fit in, he thinks, smiling to himself. The car incubates Cas’ scent and he is wrapped in him everywhere. Cas unbuckles Dean’s belt and kisses him, hard. This is the best night of my life.
“I think this is a good time to tell you,” Cas says the next morning, buckling his seatbelt and adjusting the mirrors in the driver's seat so he could pull off safely from the bar lot, “that I actually still can’t get drunk.”
Dean laughs heartily, morning after voice rumbling low. “Oh, I see. So you wanted me to drunkenly confess my feelings for you—-”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t. But you’re awful at hiding it,” Cas pulls off, one hand on Dean’s knee, the other steering.
“Yeah, well. Good plan.” Dean rests his head against Cas’ arm, tracing the veins protruding from his skin. Cas. Here. Close.
“It was actually Sam’s.”
Shades - Journalist!Henry
Henry is a journalist writing a piece on a prestigious art professor, but he’s more interested in the student.
⭐️This contains mature/sexual content!
Here he comes; Henry, the journalist, the observer. Waltzing into the room like he’s Gods gift to us all. And he is, that’s what’s so annoying. He’s limbs are long and his body is soft but incredibly toned. His hair is curly and he has lips that look as if they would taste like cotton candy. His hands are captivating, one sports a ring and it tends to make Y/N’s mouth water. The way those hands roll up his sleeves or across sheet of paper so effortlessly. She pretends to find a brush in her bag when Henry comes over, “Good Morning, Everyone.” He nods, “Y/N,” Her heart flutters a bit but she tries to ignore it. She always tries to ignore Henry. It’s such a hard thing to fight. She’s made it to the end of the semester, she can make it one more day.
“Morning,” The class goes by, very slowly, without another word exchanged. She catches Henry sneaking a few glances at her, shifting his eyes back to the other students’ projects when he’s caught. Y/N watches everyone pack up their things and bid their instructor one last goodbye. She hurries, trying to get everything into her bag before anyone can speak to her. She hates the awkward end of the year small talk but she can hear Henry’s voice bidding everyone adieu. His voice is similar to those bugs you hear on summer nights, a strong sound but so soothing, comforting.
She keeps her head down and notices a worn out pair of boots come into her view, “So, do you not like journalists or something?” Her head pops up, regrettably locking eyes with him. They’re a shade of blue that she’s never been able to replicate.
Y/N perks up, “What?”
“You’re never early, never stay late to finish up. You’re always the first to head out. You run off before I can ask you anything about the course or your work.”
“I’m just a little shy.” He snickers and shifts his eyes to the side for a second. He looks like she’s about to shove one of those brushes up his nose or beat him over the head with it.
“You work at a bar, you talk to people all the time.” Y/N’s body tenses at his actions. Who was he to act so offended? Who was he to look that good smirking?
Her body somehow becomes tenser and she feels her feet navigate to the door. “And how do you know that?” Henry follows, slinging his ratty old backpack around.
“Small town, Love, you work at The Icepick.” She pulls her bag further up her shoulder and her eyes stay on the floor tiles. “Me and my mates are going tonight. You gonna be there?” Y/N nods and gives him a polite smile. As she reaches her bike he lets out a chuckle. He taps the basket with his finger and smiles widely, “I like that you ride a bike with a little basket. It’s endearing.”
Her face twists and she turns her head to the side. “Endearing?” What is he talking about, it’s just a bicycle…
“Yeah, bet you ride around town with some flowers or take out, like a girl from a book or something.” Y/N hated that he was right, she gets fresh flowers every Sunday and picks up dinner after work.
His hand is still resting on the handle bar, unknowingly preventing her from pedaling away. She clears her throat and looks at him once more, “Well, I have to go. I’ll see you tonight, I guess.”
Luckily, the wind is quite mild and the air smells like rain is on the way; the perfect combination for a happy mood. She has a few hours left of this delightful feeling, as it’ll be cut short by her shift at the bar. She actually loves working at The Icepick. The people she works with are fantastic, her boss sometimes gives her food if it’s been a particularly long night. It’s just Friday’s that get to her. All of the polite older gentlemen who tip well are at home with their families and are replaced by boozy 20 somethings.
Her shift starts out with a bang so to speak. She and her co-worker, Melanie, crash into each other thanks to a guy who is sure to pass out at any moment. “I’m so sorry, Mels. I should’ve seen him coming, he’s been doing those twirls for a good half hour.” Her fellow waitress clicks her tongue and helps clean up the mess.
Melanie stands with her now messy tray, “You know, we work in a bar. It happens. You don’t have to be sorry. I’ll just clean it up and you have Luke make some more, no biggie.” She gives Y/N a little pat, directing her to the bar.
“You alright?” Henry startles her, making her jump a bit. “Sorry, you ok?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” He walks her back to the bar where she hands the bartender a slip of paper. She leans against a stool, becoming nervous that he’s still standing there. “I’m sorry, did you need something else? You want me to ring you up?”
Henry smiles and gives her a confusing look. “Oh, no, I was just um, coming over to say hi.” He watches her fingers tap on the bar and remembers how beautiful they looked covered in paint. He knows it’s quite forward of him, and in a way unprofessional considering she’s in the class of the professor he’s writing about.
“I’m not allowed to give you free drinks.” He suddenly feels self-conscious, like she truly hate his guts. Y/N is even shocked by her own words. She adjusts to her apron, smoothing it out.
“I’m sorry?” His voice sounds a little hushed and his lips become pouty.
“Look, I’m sorry if I’m being rude,” Y/N plays around with some napkins to divert her attention from his face, “people usually only chat us up or ‘say hi’ for free drinks.”
“Well, I can’t speak for others but I can definitely speak for myself,” He comes close and breathes in her ear, “and I say, you are without a doubt, the cutest thing I’ve seen in a long time. I like when your hair is up and you wear these,” he runs his finger along the fabric on the top of her head to the base of her neck, “the paisley one is my favorite.”
She gulps and tries to mask her heavy breathing, “You had a little bit too much there, Henry?”
“Quite the opposite, I haven’t had a single drop.” He takes the pen from her apron pocket and writes something on a napkin. He places the pen and the napkin back in her pocket, smiling as he walks off. She watches him walk away and would pay double her college tuition to bite his shoulders.
“Y/N? Hello?” Luke taps her arm to let her know the order is ready. The ticket reads table 7, of course it is. Henry is at table 7 and she could just die.
She approaches the booth, giving Henry a quick smile. “Sorry it took so long. Who had the nachos?” Henry puts his finger up in the air and smirks at her, “Didn’t peg you as a nacho eater, seem like a pretzel guy.”
Before he can respond a friend, so to speak, sitting across from him opens his mouth full of peanuts, “You’re a pretty bird. This the one you went to talk to, Cavill? Don’t blame ya, might have to have a go myself.” His grimy fingers pinch her thigh just below her skirt, causing her to yelp and her knee bang into the table. Y/N sets the rest of the drinks down before scurrying away into the bathrooms.
“The fucks wrong with you?” Henry grabs his coat and pays for his untouched food. He shoves his receipt into his pocket and jogs to the bathroom. The door is locked and he hears her sniffles, “Y/N? Can I come in?” He stands there for a few moments before knocking again. “Love, are you alright? Will you let me in?” He hears a soft click and he opens the door to find Y/N sitting on the toilet with mascara running down her face. He crouches down in front of her and hands her a clump of tissues as he notices her already purple knee. “Does it hurt? You want me to go get ice or something?”
“No, it doesn’t hurt that much.” He knows she’s lying, she flinched away from his hand as he attempted to touch it.
“Oh,” Henry feels like his heart has fallen right to his stomach, “you know, he’s not exactly a pal of ours. He has a habit of inviting himself.” Henry stands back up and leans against the sink, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’ll go tell ‘em off if you want me to.”
“No, no, I’m just embarrassed.” He snorts and rolls his eyes.
He can feel himself get angry but knows it won’t better the situation, “Embarrassed? You have nothing to be embarrassed over. He’s the one who should be embarrassed, fuckin moron.”
Y/N braces herself for her confession, hoping that he’ll catch on, “I’m embarrassed cause you were there.”
Henry lets his mouth hang open in confusion and reaches out to touch her shoulder but his hand falls when there’s a loud knock on the door. “Y/N, are you ok? We got that prick thrown out and Mike said you could go home. Just—call me later and let me know you’re alright, ok?” She thanks God for letting Mel interrupt this moment. She must look dreadful.
“I’m gonna head home, Mels. Thanks for checking on me.” He helps her up and she limps her way out of the door.
She looks positively pitiful. Her eyes all red and her lips pursed out. “Did you ride your bike?” Her head feebly shakes her head ‘no’ as she throws her coat on. “Then let me walk with you.” She doesn’t object his offer, in fact, she would really like Henry to walk her home.
Not even five minutes after leaving the bar Y/N trips over a loose brick in the sidewalk and of course, bloodies up her already wounded knee. Henry flies down to her so fast that she doesn’t even realize that there’s blood on her leg. He tears a small price of his shirt and wipes off her knee, “Henry! Who actually does that?”
“It’s just an old shirt, I care more about your knee.” She attempts to stand up but the shooting pain causes her to wobble into him, “Come to mine. I live around the corner, you can clean up your knee and I can drive you home. I don’t think it’s a good idea to walk on it.” Y/N becomes a little nervous at the thought of being completely alone with Henry, her heart speeds up even when they’re in a room full of people.
They arrive at an old looking building with large windows. He opens the door and leads her inside. It’s an open area, definitely the cliché bachelors loft. “Well, this is…spacious”
“Yeah, it’s not exactly ideal but it has heat and lights.” Henry helps her sit in a chair and props her leg up on an ottoman that very clearly doesn’t match the rest of the furniture. “I’ll be right back,” Suddenly, she feels a little cold and her stomach is doing flip flops. She takes a look around the loft and smiles at his messy bed. She bets that the pillows are soft and fluffy, making that ‘floof’ sound when you lie down.
Henry reappears with a tiny box of first aid supplies and sits down on the floor beside the ugly ottoman. “You don’t have to clean me up, I can do it.” He scoots closer and dips rag in warm water.
“It’s fine, I feel like you’ve had a little bit of a tough day. It’s the least I can do,” He shrugs a little bit and washes the dirt off of her cut, feeling guilty for making her leg flinch. “You never answered me, do you not like me or what?”
“Um, it’s not like I don’t like you or anything-” He cuts her off and smiles brightly.
“So you like me?” She wishes he didn’t have such nice teeth, maybe that’s the thing that makes it all too tempting to pull his mouth to hers.
“Well, I mean, you’re cute—,” Henry cuts her off once more and she huffs.
He wiggles his eyebrows at her, “You think I’m cute? I think you’re cute.”
Her hands smack down to her legs with Henry laughing at her actions, “Well, can I answer a question first?”
“Oh, cute and feisty even with a bum leg.” Y/N scoffs and crosses her arms as he applies a bandage. He kisses her just above the knee and halts his movements, “Um, I’m, I don’t know why I did that. Sorry,” He looks up at her to find her cheeks flushed and her arms relaxing. “Pink looks so good on you.” He sits on his knees and rests his elbows on the arm of the chair to look at her, but she keeps her head still. She doesn’t dare look at him. “You blush the prettiest shades.”
She moves a strand of hair out of her eyes and picks at her fingernails, “Quite the sweet talker.”
“I mean it. The moment I saw you in that class, I thought you were beautiful; so soft and delicate.” She finally turns her head to face him, finding him just as he finds her; beautiful. “You like me, Y/N? If you don’t, I give you full permission to ignore me and I’ll take you home.” She closes her eyes and sighs.
“You’re just like, intimidating. You’re ridiculously gorgeous, you write all these great things and you’ve been nothing but nice. Why wouldn’t you already have someone, didn’t want to get caught up in it.”
Henry pouts his bottom lip out and pulls at it with his finger, “What does that mean? What’d you get caught up in?”
Her throat feels tight, “I assumed you could get anyone and you were just like, flirtatious. I don’t know.”
“Oh,” He moves so that he’s sitting on his bottom and his arms are resting on his knees, “I’m not—I don’t flirt with you for the hell of it, or anyone else. I’m trying really fucking hard to impress you actually.” Her brows pull together as he looks at her, she’s actually surprised by how serious he is, “Just you.”
She feels bad for her assumption; Henry was genuinely interested and kind. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you liked me like that. I’m not used to someone actually being like, real, I guess.” She’s snapped out of her apology by him holding back a laugh. “What now?”
He smiles to himself and places his palms on the floor, “You like me.” Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything so cute. He smiles the biggest she’s ever seen and his eyelashes look so long. She gets on the floor with him and grabs his hand.
“Let’s go on a date.” Henrys head shoots up, still adorning his perfect smile.
“Right now?” That giddy grin of his makes her heart thump even harder.
She checks her watch, not realizing how late it is. “Yeah, I’m sure something’s open.”
“We can always order in, I’ll put it on my good plates and pretend I made it.” Henry rummages through one of his kitchen drawers and pulls out five menus, “Ok, we’re gonna eeny meeny miney moe it.” He lays them out on the coffee table and the two begin the process.
“Said it’ll be here in 20,” Henry sits beside her, bringing her hand to his lips. “I like your hands.”
“I like your butt chin.”
He snorts, “Thank you.”
She leans forward and kisses his chin, “You’re welcome.” He doesn’t hesitate to pull her into him and kiss her softly. Her arms wrap around his neck, his around her waist, he deepens the kiss and she whimpers. Things escalate quickly and Y/N ends up on underneath him. The urge to touch her under her skirt is unbelievable. With his hands slowly dancing along her thighs, she can feel herself grow wetter but just when he’s about to touch her, there’s a knock on the door.
“Foods here,” Henry nibbles her bottom lip before retrieving they take out. She watches him take the food and pay the delivery boy and very cutely jog back to her. “I say,” he stops to give her a peck, “we eat our dinner and I get you talking about yourself. I’m on dangerous ground, love.” Y/n nods and tries to mask her disappointment but is pleased with his politeness.
He helps her off the counter and makes her a plate of which includes the only egg roll. She waits for him to join her before digging in. She had no idea she was this hungry. “Why Henry, I didn’t know you were such a good cook, excellent lo mein.”
“What can I say, cooking is my life,” Henry obnoxiously kisses his fingers and throws a hand into the air.
The two discuss everything from their favorite things to where they grew up. Henry actually has a dog but he’s picking him up from the trainer in the morning, Y/N used to have a car but sold it and put the money towards a rent to own house. His family calls him often and he misses his mom. They went on for about two hours, just talking and giggling like they were both kids.
Henry places the dishes in the sink “How about we watch a movie, that’s date stuff, right? Not only am I a good cook, but I am an exceptional movie cuddler.”
Henry moves to the couch and guides her to sit in between his legs. One side of her skirt rides up all the way to her hip, exposing a pair of plain white cotton undies. She scoots back until her head is resting on his chest and his arm comes around her waist. He tries to pry is eyes from her underwear but can’t shake it. “Do you want a blanket?”
“No, I’m ok. You’re actually really warm.” Y/N has yet to realize that she’s exposed and Henry is biting his bottom lip, praying to god that he doesn’t let his mind wander. He stays quiet and fights to keep his eyes on the tv and not her legs. “I think I need to scoot up, my neck is starting to feel funny.” Henry slightly panics, when she moves back she’ll defiantly feel him against her back. As she lifts herself and slides back down his body, she feels him twitch against her bum. Henry is frozen with an arm still around her, he has no idea what to do or say until she repeats her previous move. She keeps her back flush against his chest and moves down even slower, pausing at his crotch to give him a slight rub. “I think you feel a little funny, too.” She giggles and he lets out a sigh of relief.
He brings his other arm around her to completely enclose her, “I’m starting to feel very funny, you need to stop if you wanna finish this movie.” She swivels her hips into a circle until she feels him twitch again. Henry smiles and places a hand on her thigh. “Not a good movie anyway,” he nuzzles into her neck and plants small kisses, “You play with me, I’m gonna play with you.” A hand travels down her panties and teases her through the fabric. Her legs spread and her hand latches onto his forearm. “You know, I’ve thought about you so much. I can’t stop thinking about your skin and how good you must taste, think about how good this pussy must be.” She groans and arches her back, making him smile. He’s only rubbed her through her panties, what will she do when he gets his mouth on her? “You wanna take these off for me?” Her hips rise as she pulls her underwear down her legs, minding her sore knee. His lips rest at the top of her ear and Y/N bites her lip.
“Henry…” Y/N whines for him to touch her, it almost hurts. She tries to move his hand further down but he moves it to her side to lace their fingers together.
“What is it, baby? What do you want?” She untangles their hands and drags one of his under her skirt. He flips up the fabric to finally get a view of her. She’s wet and he can’t resist spreading her open, and running a finger over her clit.
“Oh…” Henry kisses her temple and continues to stroke her.
“I was right, so good,” his finger dips into her and groans, “so pretty and so fuckin wet. You know what I wanna do? Hmm?” She moans in response and he can feel his jeans getting tighter each time she makes a little noise. "I wanna eat you up.”
“God,” Her throat feels tight and her skin has a prickly feeling all over.
“Trade me places.” Y/N leans up to let Henry free, she doesn’t have time to move backward due to his lips dragging down her thigh. His middle and ring finger slowly enter her, causing her to grip the couch cushion tightly. When his mouth finally connects with her, she rolls her hips into his face. His free hand rests on her side, gently squeezing here and there. Her breathing is heavy from the start and Henry can’t keep his eyes off of her face. He stops with the kitten licks and goes full on with his nose burying into the flesh above her clit. He then sucks on her, earning a loud moan to escape her mouth. He can feel her squeeze on his fingers and quickens the curling. He hums against her as she moans his name and grips his hair.
Y/N’s legs begin to quiver and her words come out in gasps, “Fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come.” Henry groans at her sweet voice saying those dirty words. Both of her hands get lost in his hair and her thighs close around his head. “Henry, stop, fuck, Stop!” He wipes his mouth with a laugh and moves up her body. His hair is wild and his eyes are heavy. They share a kiss, a very heavy kiss. “Well, my night certainly got better.”
Henry hums and smiles against her neck, “I hope that means you’re having a good time.” She nods her head and he tickles her neck with his nose. “So, I was gonna ask you anyway but I’m thinking now’s as good a time as any, but uh, you wanna go to this art show with me? I want you to see something.��
There’s a moment of silence that leaves Henry wishing he should’ve waited, he’s never been good at timing and even when he thought he was, he was not. Y/N finally speaks up and she can feel his body relax on top of her, “We have to match a little. Wear black.”
Two weeks, and somehow 9 dates later, the pair arrives hand in hand at the gallery. They move around the various works of art and discuss the things they like or dislike. They reach Y/N’s painting and Henry kisses her cheek, “Why didn’t you tell me you had something here?”
“I didn’t know they still had it up, it's from last years Student Show.” She flushes while people compliment her work, not knowing she’s right behind them.
“It’s beautiful. A lot of people are liking it, proud of you.”
Henry notices that there’s no crowd around his piece, but he doesn’t mind. He’s never been very popular outside of his writing, but he does smile when he overhears someone say it was their favorite of the night. “Ok close your eyes.” Y/n laughs and shuts her eyes tight. He lets his hand drop to her hip and whispers in her ear, “Open.” She gasps as she looks at the canvas, it’s her. It’s her in different shades of pastels and contrasting reds and black . As she looks closer she notices her lips are made out of flower petals and the paint representing her skin has the slightest shimmer. “Only the prettiest colors.”
Her eyes switch back and forth between him and the canvas. “This is incredible. I don’t even know what else to say.” Her smile is wide and she thinks she may even cry a little bit.
“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to show you.” Y/N kisses his chin, a newly formed habit, then hugs him. “You wanna get a bite? We’re all jazzed up, let’s go on a date-date.”
She looks around and gently holds on to his arm, “What about the rest of the stuff? We haven’t seen it all.”
“You really wanna see all of it?” Y/N scrunches up her face and shrugs her shoulders. “Didn’t think so.” Henry leads her to the car, minding her long skirt as he closes the door for her. They arrive at a small restaurant, one that’s not too elegant but one that you definitely have to whisper in.
Once seated at their table, which is more of a small booth within the corner, the waiter asks what they would like to drink before walking off. “These booths are weird, it’s like everyone is eating in little space pods.”
Henry takes two breadsticks and holds them behind his head, “I’m afraid you’ve figured me out, babe. This is where my people dine.” Her mouth quickly comes to her mouth so she can hide her snort. He eyes at the slit in her skirt and toys with the fabric.
The back of Henrys hand grazes her thigh and is pleased to discover she’s wearing garters. “What are you doing?” Y/N knows exactly what he’s doing and she is not having it.
“Nothing,” His finger snaps the small band against her skin and smirks as she shakes. “I like these.”
His hand grasps her thigh, getting closer and closer to where he hopes he’ll find matching underwear. “Don’t mess around,” He used her quiet complaint as motivation and inches further upward. His movements make her eyes widen and her legs snap shut.
“Take your panties off and I won’t touch you till we leave.” He rubs her skin once more before removing his hand and pulling her skirt down.
“Henry!” She whisper-yells at him, only to be greeted by his mirk. “You’re impossible.” His hand starts to pull up the fabric again and she flushes when the waiter comes back with their wine. As he pours, he’s completely oblivious to Y/N’s dress being hiked up her thigh by someone’s roaming hands. She doesn’t breathe the entire time he’s standing at the table, Henry orders their food and she lets out an extremely loud exhale that causes the tables around them to look at her.
He nibbles at her ear, suddenly making her aware of how many people really are in this restaurant, “Take ‘em off and I’ll stop teasing.” His hand is still inching its way up and she lets out a moan and pulls away, knowing that he’ll be relentless when she tells him.
“I can’t.” Y/N shimmies her dress down while swatting his hand away.
“Why not?” She shifts in her seat as she places her hands on the table.
"I didn’t wear any. You could see them through the slip and you got to mine earlier than I thought. So, I didn’t have time to find ones that worked. Stop looking at me.” Henry’s jaw slightly drops but quickly turns into a grin. He grabs her hands and leaves money on the table. “What the hell, what are we doing? We didn’t get any food!”
Henry looks back at her and pulls her a little bit closer, “We’re going home.”
[Tagged: If you’d like to be tagged, just shoot me a message or ask!]
@igotkatiepowers @xxxkatxo @lunedelorient @heartfelt-pen @omgkatinka @viking-raider @summersong69 @hell1129-blog @lilzebub @mansaaay
Got Me By The Mouth
A/N: Enemies to lovers? Slow burn? Will they-won’t they? All of the above? I dunno, you tell me.
Word Count: 7.3k
And away, and away we go!
“Hey, Cal?” I wondered aloud as my best friend and I played yet another game of Guitar Hero in my living room.
“You ever think about doing this for real?” I jerked my chin at the television screen.
“What? Like be in a real band?”
“Yeah. That’d be cool, right?”
“I mean, course it’d be cool. But we don’t know how to play any real instruments, or any of that stuff.”
“Can’t be too hard to learn, can it?”
Calum scoffed. “Pretty sure there’s a lot more to it than just pressing color coded buttons on time.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, no shit. But people learn how to play instruments all the time. Why can’t we?”
“Alright,” the brown eyed boy said, entertaining my far-fetched fantasy that every teenage boy has had at some point in his life. “Say we do become a band. Who’s in it? Just me and you? That’s a lot we’d have to learn.”
My shoulders slumped. “Good point. Shit… You know anybody?”
His eyes lit up with an idea. “Actually, I think I do! You know that kid, Luke? He’s in our year.”
“Luke Hemmings, Luke?” I checked, the name already leaving a bad taste in my mouth.
Calum laughed. “Why’d you say his name like that?”
“Like you hate him.”
“I don’t hate him. I’m just not fond of the guy. I mean, look.” I set my guitar game controller aside and went to the computer, logging into MySpace where I pulled up Luke’s account. “Like who does that?”
Calum chuckled. “I dunno. But it’s kind of funny.”
“Kind of dumb is more like it,” I countered.
“Well, I think he seems cool. And he might be our best option if you really want to be in a band. I overheard him talking to someone the other day. I guess he’s been teaching himself guitar for awhile. He even posts covers on YouTube.”
“Ugh… fine. Ask him then.”
“It was your idea. You ask him.”
“I hate you.”
The next day at lunch, Calum jabbed me in the arm. “Just go ask already!”
“Alright!” I hissed, spotting the blonde teenager across the cafeteria with a small group of his friends.
“Go!” Calum urged again, all but shoving me off the bench seat of the table.
I muttered a few choice words under my breath as I got up and crossed the room. I cleared my throat to get their attention, feeling my cheeks flushed when all their eyes flickered towards me. “Uh… Luke?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
I walked off, hoping he’d take the hint that I wanted to talk alone. Based on the sounds of rushed footsteps, he did. “Uh… it’s Mike, right?”
“Michael,” I corrected, although I wasn’t sure why as I had never cared before about anyone referring to me by “Mike” before, or any other shortened version of my name. But something about Luke using “Mike” rubbed me the wrong way. Like he hadn’t earned the right yet, or something. Which was so fuckin’ stupid it made my head spin.
“Michael,” he said anyway. “Right. So what did you wanna talk about?”
“Is it true you play guitar?”
“Yeah! I mean, I’m not super good or anything. But I think I’m okay. Why? Are you thinking of learning? I can ask my mum where she got my guitar if you want. I got it as a birthday gift so I don’t actually know where she got it. Or if it’s even a good one I guess. But I like it.”
“Yeah, yeah that’d be cool actually. But um… What I really wanted to ask… So, you know my friend, Cal? Him and I were thinking of starting a band. And we kinda wanted to know if you wanted to join, I guess.”
His blue eyes went wide in amazement. “Wow… I’ve always wanted to be in a real band.”
“Well… here’s the thing. We’re not a real band. Not yet anyway. Like we don’t know how to play anything. But we want to. Thought it’d be fun. And since you already know how to play kind of, we thought maybe you’d like to be part of it, or something.”
“Oh, yeah! And hey, I can teach you guys what I know to help you out, and stuff. Oh, this’ll be so cool! Do you guys have a name yet?”
“No… We don’t have anything yet.”
“Oh… that’s okay though. We can all figure that stuff out together. Oh, this is gonna be so cool!”
“So… you’re in?”
“Yeah, I’m in! Uh… here.” Luke pulled his phone out of his back pocket, unlocking it and handing it to me. “So we have each other’s numbers. When were you guys thinking of starting?”
I shrugged as I typed in my number and then sent myself a text, feeling my own phone buzz in my pocket. “I dunno. I’d have to check with Cal cuz he has football practice. Maybe this weekend?”
“Yeah, whatever works! Just let me know.”
“Yeah, for sure.”
And then, in a moment that could only be described as spaztastic glee, Luke threw his arms around me in a tight hug. “Thanks for asking me, Michael! This is gonna be so cool!”
“You said that already,” I wheezed, patting his back awkwardly.
“Oh, my bad,” he apologized, letting me go and taking a step back. His cheeks were a soft pink color as he ducked his head in sudden shyness. “Well, I’ll see you and Cal later I guess. Thanks again!”
“Yep. Course. See ya, Luke.”
“Well?” Calum started the second I sat back down at the table after my talk with Luke. “What did he say?”
“He bloody hugged me…”
He coughed to stifle a laugh. “Seriously? Does that mean he’s in?”
“Seriously… And yeah, I guess so. I mean, we exchanged numbers.”
“Oooo!” Calum teased, complete with the kissy face.
I shoved him. “Shut up.”
“Aw, c’mon, Mikey! You should be happy about this! This was your idea, after all.”
“Yeah, but… Luke? A school full of people, and you come up with Luke fuckin’ Hemmings?”
Calum rolled his eyes. “This shit again? I thought you didn’t hate him.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re not fond of him, or whatever. But why? What did he ever do to you? Besides have a stupid MySpace name, and photo which I think is actually pretty cool.”
“He just seems too… I dunno, popular, I guess. Like he’s friends with fuckin’ everyone. He’s in practically everyone’s Top 8.”
“You hate him because he’s nice? What does that make us? Douchebags?”
“I don’t hate him,” I growled. “I just… I dunno, mate. Why would he want to hang around us in the first place?”
“I dunno… maybe because he’s nice. Maybe because he wants to be in a band.”
“Okay, but like why with us, and not his friends?”
“Maybe no one asked. Or maybe he’s asked them, and they said no. I dunno, Mike. Point is, he said yes. So you better start liking him, or at least being nice to him back. Cuz in case you haven’t noticed, we have no idea what we’re doing. And Luke might be able to actually help. And he can’t help if you run him off by being a dick.”
“Well there goes my plan of whacking him with a stick…” I deadpanned. “Jesus, Cal, of course I’m gonna be nice to him.”
Calum raised his hand in surrender. “Alright. Just making sure.”
I double checked that the room was clear for us to record, when someone knocked on my door. “I got it!” I called out to nobody in particular, forgetting I was alone. “Hey, Luke. C’mon in,” I greeted as I opened my front door and stepped aside to let Luke in.
“Hey, Mike,” he smiled, looking around my living room. “Where’s Cal?”
“Uh, he couldn’t make it today. So it’s just me and you. That alright?”
“Works for me. So, um… you wanna do the If It Means A Lot To You cover?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I think I can do it. Uh, c’mon, you can have a seat right there. And you can set up your laptop on the desk. You brought it yeah? If not, I can go get mine.” I pointed to where I had two chairs set up in front of a desk.
“I brought mine,” he assured me, motioning to his backpack he had slung over his shoulder.
“Cool. Just set up however. Um… do you want anything to drink or something?”
“Water would be nice. Thanks.”
“Um, do you wanna practice for a bit first? Or just go straight into recording it?” I asked as I got us both a glass of water from the kitchen.
“I think it might just be best if we start recording. So we have more to work with,” he suggested. “Unless you don’t want to!” he added on in a rush.
I laughed. I had come to learn a lot about Luke in the six months since I asked if he wanted to be in a band with Calum and me. My original assumption of him being too nice had been correct. Luke was easily the nicest person I knew, and I’d been friends with Calum since Year 3. But there was an underlying nervousness to Luke’s kindness that was absent from Calum’s. Almost as if his heart would genuinely break if someone said they didn’t like him. “You don’t have to do that,” I pointed out, handing him one of the glasses. “Make suggestions, and then pull back on them. Like… you’re way more experienced at all this band stuff than Cal and I, for one thing. And for another, this is your band too,” I kept talking as I situated myself with my guitar in the chair next to Luke.
His cheeks flushed pink as he ducked his head. “No, yeah, I know,” he mumbled. “I just know you get nervous when we film.”
“Oh…” I was slightly taken aback as I wasn’t aware that was something he had picked up on. “Well thanks. But I think you’re right. If we film everything, we can do a few takes, and then edit together all the good parts.”
He brightened. “Yeah! Exactly what I was thinking! Alright, let me just…” he fiddled with his laptop to get it set up. “Okay, whenever you’re ready.”
“3, 2, 1.” He clicked the record icon on his laptop, then sat back in his own chair.
“Hey,” I started introductions, pointing at Luke. “This is Michael, this…” I mentally kicked myself, sighing loudly as Luke giggled at my screw up next to me. “I’m Michael. This is Luke. We’re from 5 Seconds of Summer. And… yeah.”
I started playing as Luke continued to giggle at me for botching the introductions, coughing once into his sleeve before he started singing. His singing voice, much like his talking voice was higher than mine, which made it very pretty. I shook my head. Whoa… pretty? Did I like Luke? Like… like him like him?
His confidence started to drop as he mumbled over some lyrics, glancing shyly over at me. I gave an encouraging smile as I started to sing a bit with him, getting him back on track. And shit… I had a crush on Luke fuckin’ Hemmings… God. Fuckin’. Dammit…
We giggled and sang our way through the rest of the song, the fact that we were recording the furthest thing from my mind.
“That was awful, wasn’t it?” Luke asked me with a giggle as he stopped the recording.
“Nah, I don’t think so,” I laughed with him.
“Really? I mumbled like half the lyrics.”
“So what?” I shrugged.
“Well… if we want people to take us seriously, we probably shouldn’t laugh our way through stuff?”
“Luke. Was that fun? Answer me honestly.”
“Well yeah, but-”
“No buts. Did you have fun?”
“Yeah. I always have fun making these videos with you guys.”
“Then does the rest of it matter? Seriously, think about it. In 10 years is it gonna matter more than we did everything perfectly? Or that we had fun?”
“That we had fun, I suppose… Wait… you think we’ll still be a band in 10 years? That we’ll be friends?”
“Yeah…” I said slowly, not sure what he was getting at. “Don’t you?”
“I mean… yeah. That’s the dream, right? To still be a band in 10 years. But, you really think that’s possible?”
“No! I mean, yes! Wait…” he paused to think about his words. “Yeah, of course I hope we’re still a band in 10 years. Famous rock stars and whatnot. But is that what you want, too?”
I gestured about the room. “Duh!”
He gave a small laugh. “Well yeah. But I mean… with me? Like… And please don’t take this the wrong way cuz I’m really glad you asked me to be in the band, and like this has been the coolest six months of my life. But… I dunno. I just got the impression you didn’t care for me that much. Or at all, really.”
As his gaze shifted to anywhere that wasn’t me, my face fell. “Oh, Luke…”
“I’m not mad!” he rushed, still not looking at me. “Like I said, I’m still really glad you asked me to be part of the band and everything. And it wasn’t like I expected us to become best friends like you and Calum are. I just… yeah… sorry…”
I sighed, rubbing at my face. “No. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I- I’m the one who should be sorry. And… Luke, look at me. It’s not that I don’t like you. Because I do. But it’s… complicated, I think. Because it’s not something I fully understand. But just… it’s not you, okay? I like you plenty, Luke.”
I nodded, feeling my throat close up a little as my heart hammered in my chest. “Yeah… That’s the problem. It’s not that I don’t like you. It’s that I do.”
“How is that a pr- oh…”
“Yeah… And like… it’s cool. You don’t have to like me the same way. I mean… I know you date girls. So like… yeah… it’s whatever. I just… Don’t ever think I don’t like you, okay? Or that I don’t like having you in the band. Having you as a friend. Cuz I do. I really do. I’m just shit at saying it.”
“Oh…” he repeated slowly. “Um… Don’t take this the wrong way. Cuz I like being your friend too. And I’d hate for things to be weird. But I don’t think I’m… and there’s nothing wrong with you being… like I don’t think of you any differently or anything. But I-”
“Don’t feel the same way,” I concluded with a nod of my head. “Yeah, totally get it. No worries.”
“I’m sorry, Michael.”
I waved him off. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. Still mates?”
“Still mates,” he smiled softly.
“Whatchu so down for?” Calum asked, setting his lunch tray down next to my head.
“Nothing,” I mumbled, my eyes watching Luke across the cafeteria. It had been two months since I dropped the bomb that I had a crush on him. And while it had been pretty easy to keep going about our day to day, being back in school wasn’t. I had stupidly thought that maybe he’d start sitting with Calum and I at lunch this year. But I appeared to be sorely mistaken. And almost to add insult to injury, he was chatting up a girl I knew he liked.
“If it’s nothing then why are you staring at Luke like that? You guys get in a fight I don’t know about?”
“I just thought he’d eat lunch with us this year. Like everyone knows we’re friends and shit.”
“Well… lunch just started. Give him a minute. He might come over.”
“Think he’ll bring her when he does?”
“Would it be a problem if he did? She’s cute.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Don’t bite my head off. But… do you like Luke? Like… that way?”
I lifted my head to give the cafeteria a quick glance before looking at Calum. “Okay. You’re not allowed to freak out on me. But yes. And I told him a while ago. And obviously he said no, and we agreed to just stay friends. Which is fine. Like I’m cool with that.”
“You don’t seem like you’re cool to me.”
“Well, I was. Like over the break it was easy ya know? I didn’t see him around girls every day. But now? I dunno. Guess I wasn’t as past it as I thought I was. Wait… that’s your response to me telling you I like Luke?”
Calum shrugged. “You said not to freak out. And honestly, it makes a whole lot of sense to me.”
“You weren’t fond of him because he was more popular than us? Sounded a lot like jealousy to me.”
“And you didn’t bother to clue me in that I was actually crushing on him? Save me a few months?”
Calum laughed. “Please… you woulda decked me if I said I thought it meant you were gay for him.”
“Okay, but I’m not gay though. I mean, I still like girls. Fuck, I’m not even sure I like other dudes. Just Luke. So what… Straight with an exception?”
Calum snorted, “Straight with an exception… Good, God Mike… Honestly, don’t sweat it, mate. Isn’t sexuality supposed to be like a spectrum? Wouldn’t that automatically mean nobody’s a hundred percent anything?”
“Hell if I know… The only things I do know is that I like girls. And Luke. And I’m never gonna let those feelings get in the way of the band. But right now? That,” I pointed over to where Luke was. “That hurts.”
My best friend shrugged his shoulders. “Then let it hurt.”
I sighed. “Shit, he’s coming over.”
“Told ya he would.”
“Hey guys,” Luke said, sitting down next to me with the girl sitting down on his other side. “This is my girlfriend, Aleisha. Aleisha, these are the guys, Cal and Mike.”
I felt like I’d just gotten punched in the stomach. Girlfriend?! Oh, I was gonna be sick… “Nice to meet you,” I said, forcing a smile. Was this what having an out of body experience felt like?
“So you’re dating this one, huh?” Calum started joking, jabbing a thumb over at Luke. “Tell me what that’s like.”
Aleisha laughed, a cute little sound and smiled brightly at Luke. “Yeah. He’s a sweetie. So, he tells me you guys are a band? What’s that like?”
“I gotta pee,” I blurted, my hands slamming on the table top as I stood and made a quick exit. Only I didn’t have to pee, so I just slumped down against the wall outside the cafeteria, watching the few stragglers make their way to the lunch room, and the cooler kids making out amongst the rows of lockers.
“You alright?” a voice said.
“I’m fine, Luke,” I muttered, staring at his shoes, not trusting myself to look up.
There was a sigh as his shoes moved out of my line of sight, and his body was sliding down to sit next to me. “I’m really sorry, Mike. I don’t mean to hurt you. But, I really like Aleisha. She’s really cool. I think you’ll like her, too.”
“I’m happy for you. And I mean that, Luke. I really do. She seems nice. And she’s really pretty. You guys are cute together. And I’ll be fine. I think I just need a minute to be hurt though, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, no. Totally. I just… didn’t want you to be mad at me. I really am sorry.”
“Luke, you don’t have to apologize for liking people. Not to me. I’m never gonna be mad at you for that. Like, besides Cal, you’re my best friend. So all I’m ever gonna want is for you to be happy. But I’m selfish enough to want me to be what makes you happy. So this is gonna sting for a bit. But I’ll be okay. Because you’re my mate, and you’re happy. And that’s what matters.”
One of his arms wrapped around my shoulders and for the brief moment I let myself pretend that we were together instead of him and Aleisha. “Thanks, Mike. That means a lot to me. Still mates?”
“Always, Luke. Now c’mon, let’s go rescue your girlfriend from Cal.”
“Hey, is Luke alright?” Ashton asked quietly.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Why is something wrong with him?”
“Well, I overheard him on the phone last night with his girlfriend and it didn’t sound too good. Pretty sure he cried himself to sleep. I thought maybe you’d know something?”
My heart broke a little in my chest. Luke cried last night? I shook my head. “No. I don’t know anything.”
“Huh… Weird… Cuz your name was mentioned. Thought you might.”
“My name? Why would he talk to Aleisha about me?”
“Maybe because she finally realized he likes you back?”
My eyes went wide. When Ashton had joined our band, the Aleisha, Luke, and I situation had already been months behind us. As far as I knew the only ones who knew I liked Luke were Luke and Calum. “H-How did you know I like Luke?”
The older boy snorted. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious, ain’t it? Like you go out of your way to tease him the most. Isn’t that straight out of every ‘he’s mean because he likes you’ handbook.”
“1.) It’s terrible we teach children that. And 2.) I’m not mean to Luke. Am I?”
Ashton shook his head. “I wouldn’t say you’re mean. But like out of all the messing around and teasing we do with each other, you do tend to do it more to Luke than Cal or me. And hey, if I’m overstepping, sorry. Not trying to out you or anything. Just saying what I noticed. And based on Aleisha and Luke’s phone call last night, I’m not the only one.”
I placed my head in my hands. If Ashton was right, that Aleisha had gotten into a fight with Luke about me, and Luke had cried himself to sleep as a result… then that made all of this my fault somehow. “Luke’s the only guy I ever cared about this way,” I found myself admitting, those long buried feelings rushing to the surface. “Like I’ve felt this way about girls plenty. But Luke’s the only guy that’s made me feel this way, too. And he knows. I told him… God before Aleisha. And we moved past it.”
“You might have moved past it. You might have been able to come to terms with those feelings and push them aside for whatever reasons. But that doesn’t mean Luke did.”
“But… that’s crazy… He didn’t even have feelings for me. That’s why we moved past it.”
“Maybe he didn’t at the time. Look. How long did it take for you to realize that you had feelings for Luke to begin with?”
“Couple of months.”
“See? This stuff takes time, Mike. Especially cuz… and look, there’s nothing wrong with being bi, or gay, or any of it. But it’s a hell of a thing to come to terms with. So yeah. It’s possible Luke didn’t think he had feelings for you back when you told him. But that might have stirred something in him, and it might have been something he’s been struggling to come to terms with since.”
“Okay… but what am I supposed to do about it? I don’t want him to turn over the same questions in his head like I used to. I don’t want him to hurt over Aleisha. I don’t want them to break up because of me. I can’t be the reason, Ash. I can’t. That’s like way too much pressure. What do I do?”
“Slow down for one,” he chuckled. “We don’t know anything yet. And as for what to do, do what you always do. Be there for him. He’s still one of your best friends. And just take it from there.”
“And what if I am the reason they broke up? What if he has feelings for me like I have feelings for him?”
“Was that a serious question? You guys do what everyone else does when they have feelings for someone and those feelings are reciprocated. You date.”
“Date?” I sputtered. “You think that’s a good idea? Like with the band and everything? We’re really taking off here, Ash. Is dating Luke the risk I take right now?”
Ashton rolled his eyes. “Look, Mike. I can’t tell you how to live your life. But you gotta do what’s gonna make you happy. And that means you have to get rid of whatever you think Cal or I or anyone else will think, and all those other doubts. Because here’s the thing, Mike. You’re my brother. So whatever you want to do, that’s the choice I’m gonna stand behind. And you know Cal will too. And heaven help anyone who has a problem with that, cuz then they’ll have me and Cal to deal with. So… Let me ask you this. Do you still have feelings for Luke? Or was that a crush that ran its course?”
I felt my eyes water as Ashton spoke, his advice and support meaning more to me than I’d probably ever be able to express. I blinked rapidly as I shook my head at his last question. “No… Luke’s still the only one who’s ever made me feel whatever it is I’m feeling. Like… I’d sacrifice my own happiness for his without thinking twice. But also that I’d be my happiest by being what makes him happiest. Like… I just want him to be happy, Ash. But I so desperately want to be the reason for it.”
“That feeling’s called love, Mike. That feeling you can’t name that makes you feel everything you just said. It’s love, mate.”
“Well fuck… I guess I’m in love with Luke, then.”
“You are?” Luke’s startled voice asked, raspy with sleep and the tears he had supposedly shed last night.
I turned, my eyes wide. “Hey… Morning, sleepy head.”
“I’m gonna get Cal, and go on a coffee run. You lads want anything?” Ashton asked, quickly excusing himself, not even waiting for us to answer. His hand squeezed my shoulder reassuringly as he moved past me, giving Luke’s shoulder a similar brotherly squeeze as he reached the door and let himself out.
“So…” I said, rubbing at the back of my neck. “How’d you sleep?”
His shoulders shrugged as he took a seat next to me at the small table. “I’ve had better nights.”
“Yeah, Ash mentioned you were talking with Aleisha last night. Everything alright?”
Luke shook his head. “Nah. We broke up. Two years over just like that,” he snapped his fingers. “Can’t frickin’ believe it…”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“Not much to talk about. She said the distance was killing her. I said it was hard for me too. She said no it wasn’t because I had you. Not the band, mind you. You specifically. So I asked what she meant by that. And she said it was obvious I was in love with you. I said she was being crazy because I was with her, so obviously it was her I was in love with. Then she said that that might have been true in the beginning, but it wasn’t now. And then she said she was sorry but she couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t love someone sixteen thousand kilometers away, especially if I was in love with someone else. And…” he paused to collect his thoughts and sigh. “I was too much in shock to really fight back. So I just let it happen.”
“Oh, damn… So you don’t even know if you’re like actually broken up?”
“No. We are. She said the words.”
“Oh, Luke…” I reached across the table to squeeze his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged. “It’s alright. Like… it stings, don’t get me wrong. But… I don’t feel sad? If that makes sense. Like yes, I’m hurt. But I’m not sad the relationship’s over. I’m just sad she’s gone. Like I’m gonna miss being her friend. Which sounds so crazy, I know.”
“Doesn’t sound crazy at all. However you feel is however you feel. Nothing crazy about that.”
“Yeah I guess… And I cried about it. I mean… I’m sure Ash mentioned he heard that part too. But I wasn’t crying because we broke up.”
“What were you crying about? If that’s okay to ask. You don’t have to answer.”
“Nah, it’s fine to ask. I just… don’t take this the wrong way, but I was crying about you.”
“Me? I made you cry? Shit, Luke…”
He chuckled nervously, cutting me off. “Not for bad reasons. More like… confusing reasons I guess? Cuz, I mean, we never really talked about it, did we? Like you said you liked me, we agreed to be friends, and that was kinda it. Like… I didn’t realize that I liked you back until Aleisha said it. And I spent all night thinking everything over again. And I dunno… Just made me cry. Like… this must have been so hard for you. Like… you must really like me a whole lot to have felt comfortable telling me for one. And then to spend the last two years watching me in a relationship with someone else. And to actually be happy for me. Like… that just means a lot to me. That you care for me that much. Or that you did. And that’s what made me cry more. Like that maybe I lucked out on having you love me that much because as time went on those feelings went away. And now here I am, stuck with all those feelings myself. Like we lucked out on having a chance because the timing was off.”
“Full permission to punch me if this is too soon, but, I need to do this.” I swallowed thickly, and then closed the distance between us, pressing my lips to his.
He gasped at the sudden contact, and I started to pull back, an apology on the tip of my tongue, body tensing for the punch I said he could hit me with. But, instead of hitting me, his fingers wove into the hair at the back of my neck, pulling me back in for a deeper kiss.
Instinct took over then, my hands cupping his face, my thumbs brushing along his cheekbones, his fingers tightening in my hair, our tongues exploring new territory, until we were both breathless.
I gave myself over to drowning in his pool blue eyes as we pulled back, smiles on our swollen lips. But then his were trembling as a tear slid down the side of his little pixie nose. “M-Mikey…” he blubbered.
More instinct took over as I pulled him into my arms, rubbing at his back as he started to sob into my shoulder. “Shh… don’t be sorry, Luke. You don’t have anything to apologize for. I’m the one who pushed. Do you want to punch me? You can.”
He laughed between a sob, “No, I don’t want to punch you. I just want to stop hurting you.”
“Hey, look at me. You’re not hurting me, Luke.”
He sniffed, wiping at his face. “Yes I am. I hurt you by dating Aleisha. And I’m gonna hurt you by saying that I need time to hurt before getting in a relationship with you. Even though I do love you. Because I do, Michael. I didn’t know it then, but I know it now. And… God… this shouldn’t be hard. If I love you and you love me, then we should be together. But I can’t do that right now.”
I swiped my thumbs across his cheeks, catching his tears, and giving his nose a small kiss. “Luke, you hurt over Aleisha as long as you need to. And when you’re done, I’m in the bunk across yours.”
His lips brushed against my cheek. “I don’t deserve you. I never did.”
“You deserve everything, Luke. And when you’re ready, I’ll do everything I can to be the boy who gives that to you.”
Someone’s fist pounded in the door followed by Ashton’s shout of “Would you two hurry the fuck on already?!”
“Lemme finish!” Luke cried back.
I laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. “C’mon you. You stared in the mirror long enough.”
“But my hair looks okay? Ugh, maybe I should cut my hair. Having curls sucks… No wonder Ash cut his.”
“Your hair is fine, babe,” I assured him, kissing him quickly. “Now c’mon before Ash breaks th-“ The hotel door swung open, Ashton standing on the other side, arms crossed over his chest, Calum beside him. “Door down…” I sighed, finishing my sentence. “Didn’t you see the do not disturb sign?”
“I was living on a tour bus with you when this,” Ashton gestured between me and Luke “finally started. You really think I care at this point? Now c’mon. I wanted to get coffee before the interview which means we needed to leave two minutes ago.”
The interview in question was with MTV to promote the new album we were releasing ahead of the tour we had planned later for the year. Same shit we’d done several times before, which meant that we had timing down to a science. So if Ashton said we needed to leave two minutes ago, we probably did. And hell hath no fury like an Ashton denied his morning coffee. “Mobile order it so it’s ready when we get there. That should buy us a couple extra minutes,” I suggested.
“Good thinking.” Ashton walked off already typing in his phone. “You guys coming or what?” he called out over his shoulder.
Calum jogged after him while Luke and I hung back to share a last quick kiss before following suit.
It had been nice, these last handful of years. It had taken Luke around two months to stop hurting over his break up with Aleisha. He said he thought it’d take longer, but given that they had already spent half their relationship apart, it really didn’t hurt as long as he expected it too. But even then, we took things slow. It was a lot to figure out at the time. A lot of late night conversations, not only with each other, but with Ashton and Calum too, of what Luke and I dating each other meant for the band and all the other little details like did we announce it. Which we decided against. We told the people who mattered like our families and our team. Those who loved us and were around us on a daily basis. But as for the world? Well… since how none of us had ever hidden our affections for each other before, everything Luke and I were “caught” doing was just part of fandom shipping that we never outright confirmed or denied. Ashton was always pretty good at diverting those questions in interviews for Luke and I. Always chalking it up to “We just want young men to realize that there’s nothing unmanly about loving the people you love and making sure they know that.”
“Uh what about MySpace?” the interviewer asked, and unknowingly I was jarred back to my high school days. After talking about our new single, he had jumped into a game where he was asking us things and we were saying whether or not we wanted them back. And the jump from Jonas Brothers to MySpace left me standing there sputtering like a jackass.
Thankfully I had time to stand there and sputter while Luke immediately answered with a “Yes. Yep, I’m in,” while Ashton and Calum hummed and hawed with me as they thought about their own answer.
“MySpace caused me a lot of insecurity,” I reflected.
“Really?” the interviewer asked, while Calum snickered beside me because he knew exactly what I wasn’t saying.
“Michael this is a safe space,” the interviewer told me, encouraging me to keep going.
“Well yeah, like because…”
“Sorry I just laughed at that,” Calum apologized, a cheeky grin on his face before laughing some more. “I apologize.”
“It’s okay,” I said, not sure if I was telling Calum it was okay he laughed or giving myself permission to admit to something only Calum had known about my issue with MySpace. Either way, I kept talking. “You know that crappy feeling when you really like a… girl… and you’re like 12… and you go on her MySpace page, and you’re not in her Top 8? And like your other friend that you go to school with is in there and you’re like ‘oooohhhh I hate you’?” I looked down at the top of Luke’s head, a queasy feeling in my stomach from unthought about memories flooding my mind like unwelcome visitors. “Like Luke was in everyone’s Top 8.”
I felt Luke shift in his seat, and I could see the face he pulled in the monitor across the way. “Y-You didn’t even know me when I had MySpace,” he defended himself, turning to look at me over his shoulder. “You didn’t even know me!” He hit his legs with both of his fists as he giggled, which made me wonder if he was more offended I basically said I used to hate him, or more taken aback that I knew something about him he thought I didn’t.
“Yes you were,” I told him. “You were Hemmo1996, and you had the weird picture of you on the bus, like this,” I turned slightly to hold out my arms without hitting Calum next to me, giggling at the memory. It felt so long ago that I had been sitting in my living room showing Calum Luke’s account. A whole different lifetime ago.
Luke giggled his loud little “hah-HA!” giggle that sent Ashton into his own fits of laughter as he poked fun at the idea of Luke trying to be the cool kid on the bus.
The rest of the interview continued from there, but there was a slight slump in Luke’s shoulders for the rest of it.
“Are you okay?” I asked lowly as we climbed into the car to head back to the hotel.
“Yeah, I’m fine, Mike.”
“You don’t seem fine…”
He sighed. “I don’t know whether to be happy that you noticed me back then, or hurt that you only noticed me back then because you hated me.”
It was my turn to sigh, resting my hand on his leg. “That was years ago, Luke. And I thought we already had this conversation? It wasn’t hate. It was jealousy. I liked you, and I couldn’t make sense of it, so I thought it meant I hated you. But I didn’t. I never hated you.”
“No, I know that… I just… I think we’re getting to a point where it’s hard to remember a time before we were us. Like me and you us, and the band us. And getting reminded that we used to be strangers… I dunno…”
“Hurts a little?” I suggested.
“Yeah. But I know you care about me. I don’t doubt that. Don’t ever think that I do.”
“I know you don’t, Luke. And I don’t doubt you either.”
“Good. So… You really knew who I was back then? Before we were friends?”
“Of course I knew who you were. We were in the same year, and I had a massive fuckin’ crush on you. I didn’t think you noticed me. Was surprised you knew my name.”
His cheeks flushed. “I guess we’ve always known each other whether we realized it or not, huh?”
“I guess so,” I chuckled. I gave his thigh a squeeze. “And I wouldn’t change a fuckin’ thing.”
“So?” I asked, my fingers shaking as I snapped the box shut. “Thoughts?”
Ashton and Calum stared back at me slack-jawed. “Y-You’re gonna ask Luke to marry you?” Calum croaked.
“Yeah… that’s generally what people do after dating for six years.”
Ashton slapped Calum on the back. “He means to say that he’s happy for ya, Mike. We both are. But does that mean it’s gonna be out in the open now? Like beyond our little bubble?”
I put the box into my pocket, thinking. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess it does. I mean, people have been speculating it for years. So it’s not like it’s shocking. Just confirmation.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. So, how you gonna ask him?”
“Well, we have that interview later. So I talked with them about it, and we came up with a way to squeeze it in.”
“You’re shaking a lot. You nervous? You know he’s gonna say yes.”
“Nah, not nervous. Giddy? Excited? Excited.”
“Well, like Ash said, we’re happy for you, mate. And if I’m not your best man, I’ll smother you in your sleep,” Calum grinned.
I laughed. “Of course you’re my best man, Cal. I’ve known you the longest. And I figure Ash will be Luke’s.”
“Whatever you guys decide, we’ll be happy with,” Ashton told me. “Now hurry up before you’re late to the interview.”
The interview itself was a game of Truth or Shot where we either had to answer questions truthfully or take a shot. And while I fuckin’ hated tequila, I knew Luke loved it, and I figured a few shots might calm the shaking in my fingertips. But the questions weren’t that out of hand, so the only time I did take a shot was when we were asked if we preferred living in Sydney or Los Angeles, because there was just no way to answer that. Then, it was the question I’d prepared for.
“Have you ever kissed one of your bandmates?”
“Definitely no tongue,” Luke half-lied right off the bat, while I sat there shrugging, playing aloof. “I’ve kissed Cal on the lips maybe once, or just next to it?”
“Yeah,” I nodded in confirmation, remembering when Luke had grazed the side of Calum’s mouth after I dared him to do it after a few drinks to shut Calum up on his bitching about how he just wanted to kiss somebody.
Luke turned to me in fake confusion, his fingers brushing against his lips. “Have we kissed?”
“I dunno,” I played off. “I wouldn’t remember if we did,” I giggled at the blatant lie coming out of my mouth. “Probably…”
“Should we kiss?”
I laughed more as I reached into my pocket for the ring box. “Was thinking we could get married actually,” I said, sliding onto my knee and showing him the ring. “Luke, you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel the way I do. You’re more than just my friend and bandmate, you’re the love of my life. So, Luke Hemmings, will you marry me?”
“Oh, you fuckin’ cunt…” he swore, digging into his own pocket. “I was gonna ask you!”
I blinked up at him in confusion. “Wait, what? You were gonna ask me to marry you?”
“Yeah!” He got out of his seat and knelt down next to me. “God damn it, Mike. I shouldn’t be surprised that you beat me to this because of how competitive you are. But you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Our friendship. Our band. Us. My life has changed for the better because of you, and nothing would make me happier than to become your husband. So, yes, Michael Clifford, I will marry you. But only if you marry me back.”
“Fuck yeah I’m gonna marry you!”
“So… we should definitely kiss then, huh?”
@aquarius-hood1996 @creator-appreciator @philthepegacorn @myfavfanficsever @cxddlyash @youngblood199456 @stormrider505 @tarltongrl96 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @hoodhoran @metalandboybands
Read Into Me Chapter Two: The Importance of Being Earnest
Steve Harrington x Reader
Catch up on the series HERE
Word Count: 2,030
Warnings: Swearing, death illusion
Author’s Note: This chapter is a bit shorter than I’d like, but I promise that the next one is longer! Also, some of the tags aren’t working for some users, so I’m so sorry if you aren’t getting notifications for this series! If you know how to fix this lemme know!
Tags: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina @maddie1504 @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @banjino-in-the-whole @buckysarge @wildcvltre @stanleyyelnatsiii @t0rment0 @10blurredsmoke10 @unussuallchild10 @n3wtscaseofniffler5 @alwaysstressedout @peterparxour @linkispink1995 @asharpknife @a-big-ball-of-idk @used-avocado @mochminnie @sledgy14 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect
Steve was so very fucked. He’d been sat at his desk since he got home from school and could not think of a single fucking thing to write. He’d had his notebook open, his typewriter loaded with paper, pen uncapped and waiting to be used, and the most work he’d done was chew on its blue cap. He just couldn’t think.
Writing was not his thing. Reading was not his thing. School was not his thing. He had lines of trophies on his nearly empty shelf-swim meet, track and field, basketball, and baseball for one summer in fifth grade. He could understand how to play a sport. That was competitive, improvisational, and had a core outcome-you won, lost, or tied. The same three outcomes with a million ways to do it, a million variables to get in the way. Math and science were the same, he could swing Cs and Bs in those classes, but English was the opposite. There were too many opinions. Too many options. When he managed to read one of the assigned books for class and not merely the Cliff’s Notes, he found he had nothing to say about it. Everything the author said felt true, even when his teachers were telling him to look for specific things in the narrative. Sure, if someone told him that the conch shell in Lord of the Flies meant something, but if you asked him what he wouldn’t know. And he would believe you if you said that the conch shell didn’t mean anything. His essays were all crap.
He thought about calling Nancy. Nancy would know exactly how to help him, she always did. But Nancy was with Jonathan now and he wasn’t confident that they were still friends at all. If they were ever friends. He didn’t think that they were. They weren’t really friends before they dated. Still, his hand hovered over the egg shell white rotary phone on his desk, a gift from his eleventh birthday. He lifted the phone off its hook, dialling the number off by heart. It took three rings for someone to pick up.
“Eleven?” Mike Wheeler’s frantic voice came through the other end. Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes, the boy was far too attached to that girl, it was honestly concerning.
“Nah dude it’s Steve, your sister around?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.
“She’s out with Jonathan.” Mike’s voice dropped into one of boredom. “You know, her boyfriend?” he was such a little shit sometimes.
“Yeah, I know dipshit, you wanna tell her I called when she gets back?” Steve huffed back.
“If I remember.” With that, the call went dead. Steve groaned, rolling his eyes as he slammed the receiver back onto the hook. What a fucking waste of time. He’d never hear back now, that kid didn’t like him from the start and would do whatever he could to keep them from being friends.
What was to be done now? He didn’t have anything to say about his spring break! Mr. Lawrence was a bastard for even asking him to write about it. Nothing happened! His parents went to Miami Beach to rekindle their marriage for the hundredth time and left Steve at home alone. He tried to throw a party but almost got busted by the cops with a fake ID at the Pick n’ Save and Tommy’s brother wouldn’t give them any weed to supplement what would’ve been a pretty dry party. He cancelled the party after that and sat at home alone. Nothing much to tell about and definitely wouldn’t fill a page, even if he used the longest words he knew.
Steve stood from his desk, looking through his shelf till he found the heavy yellow pages he’d put on the bottom of his shelf to weigh the sucker down so it wouldn’t fall over as fast. He flipped it open, searching through the numbers till he found what he was looking for, lifting the receiver off its hook again.
Across the street, you were sprawled out on your rose printed bedspread, your head in your hands with Samantha sat on your desk chair, laughing at your pain. “You know it’s not that bad, right? You could’ve gotten stuck with someone way worse.” She said, mindlessly digging through the black jewellery box sat dusty in the corner of your desk. Your mother had sent it from Spain and had filled it with different things she found across Europe. You didn’t care much for the stuff yourself but you kept it on your desk to show that you used it, not that she was ever home to seemed to notice.
Your bedroom was clean and stark white. It used to be pink, to match the rest of your white iron rod and pink padded furniture. You didn’t like the pink that much, and you didn’t adore the white, but you could hide it behind the art you tacked to the wall. Every portrait, still life, and landscape painting you’d been proud of hung proudly in your home gallery. You’d done recreations of your favourite album covers, and splatter art with balloons, and a few charcoal drawings of your grandparents and your father. You’d painted clouds and stars on your ceiling when you were in middle school, and while they had a lot of room for improvement, you left them above your head as a comfort to you. Your father had helped you scrape the popcorn ceiling down flat and helped paint the ceiling sky blue. It was your last project together.
“Oh yeah totally…” you said through your hands, refusing to look at her, focusing instead on the yellow sun spots floating under your eyelids.
“I mean, you could’ve gotten stuck with Tracy Lords again, she’s in that class.” Samantha replied easily, pulling out a green sea glass bangle from the top drawer, running her fingers over the red velvet interior of the box. Tracy Lords was a menace to productivity, at least she was according to Samantha. They had issues, which meant that you did too by association, but she’d done nothing to you except glare and pop her gum at you.
“At least she does her work!” you sat up, letting your feet dangle over your bed. “I don’t think he’s ever done his work on time, he’s always late with stuff!”
“That’s not your problem; as long as you do your work then Lawrence won’t care.” She flashed the bangle in front of your face “You should wear this more it’s nice.”
You shrugged “You can have it if you want.” You didn’t really care about what your mother sent you, it didn’t change the fact that she didn’t care enough about you to be home for more than a month out of the year. Besides, where on earth were you supposed to wear any of it? Your mother loved to spend your father’s riches on random, useless crap and you hated the idea of showing off the money your father died for. It wasn’t anything to brag about.
“Nah, not my style, it won’t match any of my stuff.” She put the bracelet back, closing the box with a metallic thump. “But anyway, you’ll be fine. Steve’s completely harmless.” You weren’t exactly sure if you believed her.
The phone on your desk blared loudly. You begrudgingly jumped off the bed, pulling it off the hook. Your grandmother was still at the hair salon and if you didn’t answer, one of her little friends from the old folk’s home might think that she died again.
“Hello?” you asked, motioning for Samantha to move over a bit, closing your white curtains closed again, your eyes scanning the streets with a bored expression.
“Hey is this Y/N?” Steve asked cautiously. He couldn’t quite remember your voice but he had double checked your last name in the year book and the phone book.
“Yeah, who is this?” dread filled your stomach the second he spoke, you were hoping against hope that it wasn’t Steve. You could see him pacing his window from across the street.
“Hey it’s Steve from English?” Fucking hell. You wanted to slam the damn receiver onto its hook. But if you did that, Samantha would think that you were crazy and you didn’t want to seem like such a baby.
“Oh hey what’s up?” you asked cautiously. Samantha was pulling at your sleeve, mouthing ‘Who is it?’ at you. You pulled your arm away, pushing her chair away from you with your foot.
“Oh nothing much, I was just wondering how your paper’s going?” Steve didn’t really know why he called you, he wasn’t certain that you’d even help him if he asked. He hardly knew you, he couldn’t name two things about you. But you seemed smart, you could be of some help if he had the balls to ask for it.
“Oh um…it’s fine. How’s yours going?” your hand came to the back of your neck, rubbing it awkwardly. You wanted to run away, to utterly disappear into another dimension. You didn’t like strangers, especially the whole small talk part. You didn’t feel like you had anything interesting to say about yourself and you hated silence. Your mind just didn’t come up with questions to ask.
Steve’s face burned. He couldn’t admit that he was stupid now; he was hoping that he wasn’t the only idiot in the class. “Oh um it’s good! I’m almost done.” He said, mentally cursing himself for saying that he was anywhere near finished.
“Oh cool. Do-do you want to switch them off tomorrow?” Now you had no idea what this phone call was even about. In the back of your mind, you assumed that he just had a question about the essay, but now you had nothing to grab onto.
“Yeah sure, that works for me.” He said, looking to his empty paper. He was so totally screwed now. He couldn’t admit that he was an idiot to you, not when you already had everything so clearly understood. You spoke so confidently, it made him feel small and pointless.
“Okay…I’ll see you in class then.” You said. Steve bid an awkward goodbye and you both hung up unsure what the hell had just happened.
Samantha was on her feet, jumping on your mattress “Did Steve Harrington just call you?!?” she cried, following it was it a giddy scream. You hushed her, rolling your eyes.
“It’s nothing to freak out about, you weirdo!” you countered, turning to face her fully with a sullen expression. Your heart was still pounding hard in your chest, adrenalin pumping through your veins.
Samantha landed on her knees, looking up at you incredulously “What? He’s cool! That’s cool! Boys never call you!”
“Way to rub that one in.” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Talking to people wasn’t your strong suit, and while for the most part you were okay with not having many friends, you lack of experience with relationships made you very insecure. “You crushed one of your spikes on my ceiling.”
Samantha reached up and touched each individual black spike with the tips of her finger, finding the dented one at the top of her head. “It’s true! God, I’ve got more guys calling me and I’m a lesbian.” She lowered her voice at the mention of her sexuality. You both knew that your grandparents wouldn’t be kind to her if they knew, their homophobia a mark of their small mindedness.
“Yeah, well, the guys at this school are all idiots.” You looked back to your paper, pulling your red pen out from behind your ear and crossing out a word on your essay.
“You didn’t think Jonathan Byers was an idiot.” Samantha replied. You cheeks flashed cherry red. It wasn’t fair of her to even mention him. He was a dickhead and Samantha knew it.
“Yeah, well now I know that he’s just as big of an idiot as everyone else is.” You muttered, pulling your desk chair over and taking a seat once again. You didn’t have the time for stupid boys, anyways. You had work to do.
Headcanons: Crankegos ⚙️
Aight, we’re doing this so buckle up, because I got a lot to share!
Note: I consider Memento one, but he’ll be in another post with Mori where I’ll go more into-depth about them both.
Runs both an ice cream shop and an ice cream truck (he changes outfits depending on which he’s working at).
Once owned a highly successive business.
But it was shutdown after Silver Shepherd discovered that the ice cream was being laced with drugs.
Since then Mike tries to stop doing that..but once in a while he’ll put a tiny bit of cocaine in a scoop or two (claims it’s “extra sugar”).
Loves to bake on his days off.
Contrary to his song, he’s got a soft spot for kids and never drugs their desserts.
Struggles with his own addictions from time-to-time, but he’s getting better at dealing with the withdrawals.
Also fluent in French, so that gives him extra brownie (pun intended) points.
Somehow, someway..he’s evaded police ever since the encounter with Silver.
Not very good at talking about his or other people’s problems...so he usually just whips up some ice cream as a temporary solution!
His eyes turn to pink and blue swirls whenever his sanity dips or if he wants to hypnotize someone who insulted his business practices.
Mike’s just a bubbly guy all around.
One of Ethan’s less malicious dark egos.
Embodies his anxiety and nightmares (though mainly the former)
Blank himself has severe anxiety issues that tend to make him panic over small things.
Corroded teases him for being a crybaby sometimes, but he can’t help he’s overly-emotional.
Gets very self-conscious of his acne/black eyes/appearance in general, afraid of scaring people away.
Has bluish-pale gray skin.
Likes wearing baggy clothing, though it’s really only to hide the wilted vines and black veins that wrap around his arms and legs.
When he has a breakdown, black oily tears stream down his face, he shakes violently, the room get abruptly cold, and he mumbles unintelligible gibberish.
It can go on from a few seconds to almost 15 minutes straight. It's extremely hard to snap him out of it.
Has haptephobia (fear of physical contact), but he’ll let people he’s close with (like the other egos) make contact with him.
Hates being thrown in with the rest of the dark egos.
The first of Ethan’s dark egos, albeit the more forgettable one.
He’s a rusted robot, with gray/brown skin that’s metallic in some areas (especially on his face and hands).
Completely hollow inside (physically) except for metal “bones” keeping himself together.
His eyes are also empty sockets instead of being purely black.
Like Anti he’s a glitching entity who induces paranoia in people with hushed whispers and clones of himself.
Bitter to Ethan about being used for the 5-year anniversary poster advertisement, despite that not being his intention at all.
Also resents Blank for becoming the more popular dark ego.
Regularly drinks oil.
If you call him an animatronic he can and will decimate you.
His biggest pet peeves are being taken for granted and being called a “dumb robot”.
A major weakness is his legs being so rusted they lock up and he can’t move for a long while.
A punkish prisoner who’s best friends with Yancy.
He’s been arrested for smoking illegal drugs, dealing said drugs (with Mike, who managed to escape officers while ditching him in the process), and excessive speeding/reckless driving.
But he was sent to HTP for a fatal hit-and-run (while he was smoking grass behind the wheel).
Doesn’t talk a whole lot, but he likes to stand around and smugly grin like he’s got a trick up his sleeve.
Spoiler: He doesn’t, and if you were to ask Yancy about him he’d tell you Heap is one of the sweetest people he’s had the honor of meeting.
He did break his arm during a brawl (tho he told the warden he fell in the yard).
He’s good at keeping secrets. He has no reason to gossip unless you insult his family.
Also dyed his hair black. Just because.
Was among the many bright scientists trying to find a cure for the spontaneous zombie plague.
He was also Prof. Beauregard's assistant.
Though unfortunately he didn’t last long before he ended up turning.
Surprisingly he still retains much of his scientific knowledge.
But he can’t wrap his rotting brain around complex formulas.
So he’ll sometimes try to mix chemicals and write notes--both of which turn out to be huge messes.
With the other Crankegos, Jake has his own lab.
He gets agitated easily, so he’ll go there to calm down if he needs to.
Can still speak normally, though his voice is extremely scratchy and he hates repeating himself.
So Yahoo often translates for him.
Likes being with a group of zombies...humans not so much.
Though since the Crankegos aren’t exactly human, he doesn’t mind them at all.
She’s the gothic mother hen of the Crankegos.
Though at the same time she’s a vicious mama bear if you dare cross her and/or her family.
She’s stern with Mike and Corroded, but very soft towards Heap, Jake, and Blank.
The prisoner often looks to her as a mother, since he didn’t have the best relationship with his own growing up.
Loved red, black, and silver makeup. Especially eyeshadow and mascara. She makes sure to visit the dye shop every so often to keep her hair a bright red.
No one knows how she pays for all those times. But she does it.
Very sassy and likes to show-off a lot, though she’s not a narcissist.
She’s very generous, too, and can’t stand the thought of being completely obsessed with only her own happiness.
Don’t ask her if she feels weird being the only female Crankego. She’ll break your kneecaps.
Cries at animal rescue/adoption commercials all the time.
Likes wearing meme shirts to be “hashtag relatable”.
She says it exactly like that and Ethan, Heap, and Mike groan every time she does.
He’s a very holy man, of course, with much dedication to the church.
While Saint doesn’t say what church (or even what his name is for that matter) he’s from, he practices good teachings.
Scolds people if they constantly curse/take the Lord’s name in vain.
He tried integrating memes into his teachings so younger generations won’t be as bored during mass.
But when Jeremiah (Priestiplier) proofreads his writings..he just shakes his head in disapproval.
So those never see the light of day.
Thinks Blank, Corroded, and Jake are horribly cursed and regularly tries spraying them with holy water.
He just gets three annoyed inhuman beings glaring at him.
Heap and Mike confess their recent sins to him sometimes. It helps them get stuff off their chest.
Though Mike always starts out by saying “I’ve been very naughty-”
And Saint has to stop himself from slapping him with the book.
Beyond that, he’s just an all-around good dude.
Like Bing and Google, he’s a search engine-based android designed to answer people’s questions.
Often speaks in a soft and sincere tone of voice, though he can be firm when necessary.
One of his eyes is more cybernetic than humanlike, and it’s capable of many functions including infrared and x-ray scanners, as well as being able to instantly identify any individual he sees.
That’s how he got to know all of the Crankegos so easily.
He’s on good terms with all the Googles...except for Blue, of course, since he thinks he’s just another rival.
But Yahoo still tries to be kind regardless.
Unfortunately some take advantage of that, though Bernice and Mike usually come to his defense.
He’s terrified of water and viruses..so he tends to stay away from Blank and Corroded.
When he’s recharging, both his eyes glow purple under his eyelids.
He’s got a lot of service features, including Yahoo! Finance (to help with personal finances), Answers (a q&a), and Mail.
Kinda misses the funky logo the company had from 1996-2013
CatCF Milk Chocolate: Part 1, the kids
About this version: Milk Chocolate was inspired originally by a mix of the book, the vibes of the 1971 movie and the Tim Burton movie aesthetic. A bit more goofier and whimsical than the other versions. In term of era, I thought of it as a mix of 1960s, 1970s and 1980s.
In this version seven Golden Tickets are spread throughout the world, and each time one is found the same female reporter (her character is a reference to the musical) goes to interview the children. Another recurring joke is that while the hunt is going on for the Tickets, there are all sorts of ridiculous debates on television such as: do the Golden Tickets really exist, or is this just a hoax ? Do the Golden Tickets give cancer? Can animals go on a tour like humans? What happens if a Golden Ticket winner dies before the tour? Are the Golden Tickets linked to the rise of youht delinquence? Are the Golden Tickets a proof of Wonka's alleagiance to the obscure sect of the Golden Bird?
First Winner: Augustus Gloop
(Based on Augustus Gloop)
This Augustus was actually based on an idea Stained-by-the-sea allowed me to "borrow" a bit. Stained noted that Augustus always made him thought of this section from the movie "North", about Buck and the Texan parents. If you don't know what I am talking about, I'll leave links down there. And this is such a perfect matc I had to dig a bit down there.
This Augustus is basically a mix of all the archetypes associated with Texas and Nevada. But more precisely, he is basically "Buck" from North - a boy whose family (and his own mindset) embody the motto "bigger is better".
The Gloop family always thought that they should be "the biggest and the bests" and that "bigger is better". Ironically, the Gloop parents themselves are regular-sized people, but they clearly enforced this mentality on their son. Augustus is a big boy. Literally. He is tall, he is thick, he is fat, he is very, very big. He is probably one of the tallest, and definitively the largest boy on the tour (in fact, he once or twice gets stuck in the doors of Wonka factory). He eats ten meals per day, and we are not talking of regular sized meals. We are talking piles of ribs, kilos of potatoes, entire chickens... His parents also prepared for him a "big" and "best" future - paying the local sportive teams to claim he is a sports champion despite Augustus never setting a foot on a sports field, arranging his marriage with the local beauty queen of the state he lives in, already preparing the three different houses he will live with his fifteen kids... As a result, Augustus isn't just big and fat physically, he also has a massive and bloated ego. He thinks that he is the best at everything, and that he should have absolutely everything he wants.
The Gloops themselves are actually the masters of the state they live in, so to speak. They are the wealthiest and most influential industrials of the area: they built highways, casinos, hotels, private villas, they are cow-farmers, owing a lot of slaughterhouses, and also dig for oil and gold. They want their business to be the "biggest there ever was" and all they do is exaggerately big: their villas are enormous, their hotels are everywhere, their farms hosts several thousands cows, their mines are among the deepest in the world...
Trouble is that, due to their expansion and consumption of everything, they are a threat to the landscape and the environment - destroying forests to build their roads and buildings, drying out the lands to feed their farms... in fact, part of the reason why their state looks like the most desertic parts of Texas and Nevada is due to their actions.
Think... Buck from North. Think Art Land from Mar Attack. Think an evil (and obese) version of Clay Bailey from "Xiaolin Showdown". In fact, if I remember well in one episode Clay turns into a sumo for one of the Showdowns... this would probably be Augustus' appearance in this version: sumo Clay Bailey. (Edit: Yes, I checked out, it is episode 23 of the series).
Second Winner: Clarence Crump
(Based on: Clarence Crump)
Clarence didn't had any kind of personnality in the original drafts outside of a desire to prove he was right. As a result, I decided to have a lot of fun and create my own character.
The idea of vanity has already been touched several times with the other brats, but I wanted to give it its own character and kid. I also wanted to create a polar opposite of Augustus, denouncing the fact that being skinny can be just as bad as being fat when in excess. As a result, Clarence Crump is here a boy obsessed about being thin, and proud of being too skinny for his own good.
Mr. Crump is a pseudo-health guru that keeps writing phony and very dangerous diet books, the kind that will advice you to stop eating altogether to lose weight. As for Mrs. Crump, she is a beauty pageant champion (local and regional, and while she acts as if she was some national beauty champion, she always failed at nationals). From their union was born a child who inherited their vanity, pride and obsession with "health"
Black haired, very pale, very thin, very slender, to the point his bones show, Clarence delights in being skinny, and works as a teenager model promoting the "thin-fashion". He is also the embodiment of fat-shaming, never missing an occasion to insult fat people (in fact he often calls Augustus a big fat cow). He uses however the excuse of health for that (a trick his parents taught him) - promoting extreme thinness by talking about health and fat-shaming people in the name of health allows one to be much more horrible than normally accepted.
A good proof of how Clarence actually is just very vain and obsessed with being thin, and not at all defending health - Clarence condemns sports for being unhealthy, because according to him "muscles are unhealthy because they don't make you look beautiful, they make you look ugly".
He always wears short and black sleeveless tank-tops, the point being that he needs to show as much as his body to the world as possible, to be a "living example". He even wears his black short and tank-top during the tour (despite it being winte - the only thing he wears on top of his clothes to not get cold is a skunk fur coat).
Third Winner: Miranda Grope
(Based on: Miranda Grope)
This character was based on Dahl's own character of "Miranda Grope" from early drafts of the story, the horrible and atrocious girl allowed to do "whatever she wants".
In my version, the Grope parents are hippie-like people, the father having a very long beard and being covered in fleas, while the mother is covered in flowers and oss (plants that grew over her), and both always wearing rose-tinted glasses. They are the kind of parents that refuse authority and orders, seeing these (and social norms as a whole) as a "dictatorship". They prefer to trust their daughter to find her own way in the world, believing that experience is the best teacher in life. The result? They lazily raised her by telling her they would never forbid her anything and that she could do anything she wanted.
Miranda is a devilish little girl who does only what she wants, and becomes extremely violent when prevented from doing something. Or when people say something she doesn't want to hear. Or just when people she dislikes are near her. She shouts, the screams, she insult, she kicks, she hit, she throw enormous and terrifying tantrums. She has a very wide range of insults, and a truly evil mind : most of the things she wants to do are borderline crimes. It seems for her only chaos and destruction is "fun", a true little punk.
Miranda has a disastrous haircut because she cuts her hair herself, and she is always wearing the same clothes that she rarely washes): a white shirt, a blue sweater with long sleeves, and a plaid tiles skirt. An outfit that looks strikingly like a school uniform - but it is pure irony, because Miranda hates more than anything in the world school. She doesn't go to school, and the only time she went near one was to try to burn it down. (Her appearance is in fact based on Lauren Child's illustrations for Miranda, if you are wondering).
Fourth Winner: Veruca Salt
(Based on: Veruca Salt)
For this Veruca, I wanted to do something slightly different... here, Veruca doesn't want everything just because she is a spoiled rich brat. She is still one, but she is also the product of post-WW2 consumerism.
This Veruca was born surrounded by advertisements, logos, slogans and product placements. On television, in the streets, in shops, in journals, at the radio... She grew up with them and was influenced, brainwashed by them. As a result, she is obsessed with obtaining everything that was advertised, and she herelf looks like a walking billboard since she is covered in big, flashy logo and keeps reciting different brands' slogans and mottos. As soon as she sees something she saw publicity of before, she needs to obtain it at once. She is a true zombie, only hearing the call of the shopping mall and of the television advertisements.
One idea I had was that the Salt parents actually worked for (or where at the head of) a wealthy advertisement company, known to produce, design and create all kinds of famous publicities and slogans - and that they used their daughter as a guinea pig for their tests, and delighted in Veruca being so addicted to consumerism. In fact, they may have named her Veruca because at the moment of her birth they were working on advertisements for an anti-wart product, so that's all they had in mind.
Fifth winner: Herpes Trout
(Based on: Mike Teavee)
I went with this version of Mikee Teavee with the focus on "violence" already present in the original work, but also heavily used in the opera (and touched a bit in the 2005 movie).
This Herpes Trout is the embodiment of the fear of kids becoming violent upon watching television and playing video games (his only two passions in life). He has a true fascination with guns and firearms - US soldiers shooting aliens, gangs shooting each other, cowboys shooting at bandits, it's all he ever plays and watches. Herpes worships violence, and is absolutely obsessed with war (here I am thinking of all the wars present from the 60s to the 80s, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Glasgow Ice Cream Wars...). War propaganda and the fight being glorifyed heavily influenced him - as a result his biggest dream is to go at war in some foreign country to kill everyone there and come home a hero.
Herpes comes from a family of rednecks and hillbillies from the deep country. They are not poor however, they are wealthy enough to have television and several video games, but they are uneducated people full of stereotypes, discrimination and hate. They named their son Herpes because they ignored what it meant but just thought of it as an "intelligent" name. Herpes has everal brothers and sisters, and all have a disease name.
Herpes himself is a big and strong kid, who followed body-buildings process a la Charles Atlas and military training, becoming impressively muscular. However, he retained a soft, childish and chubby "baby face", which kind of ruins the effect of this massive, muscular, almost adult body. Always dressed in a military outfit, he carries everywhere with him guns and firearms, the question being: are they real? Or are they not?
Sixth Winner: Violet Glockenberry
(Based on Violet Beauregarde)
I wanted with this version to take back the idea of a competitive and "sportive" girl obsessed with contesting and winning - introduced in the Tim Burton movie.
This Violet is a tall, muscular and strong girl. She won numerous sportive competitions, but this doesn't make her just arrogant and prideful like in the Tim Burton version. In my version she is also very aggressive and violent (a bit like in the original novel). She is a nasty and rude bully easily prone to anger (in fact, if she keeps chewing gum it is mostly to calm her down sot hat she doesn't punch everyone around). Her parents originally pushed her towards competitions to manage her anger issues, but sports only gave her more strength and destructive power. In fact, they became terrified of her, while she considers them losers here to serve her - she basically thinks of herself as self-made, literaly.
Seventh Winner: Charlie Bucket
(Based on: Charlie Bucket)
For this Charlie, I wanted to go with a Charlie similar to the original illustrations of the character: blond hair, blue eyes, a white boy...
Basically, he is the original Charlie. Very sweet, very innocent, a gentle kid, the best of the group.
However I changed slightly his background. Charlie in this version is not the grandson of four grandparents, but rather the big brother of four younger siblings - and his family here struggles with trying to feed five children (and a total of seven mouths) despite having very humble and low-paid jobs. I think Charlie has taken the role of a parentive figure for the siblings, but at the same time him spending so much time with young children helped him keep in touch with his "childish" side.
S.T. REWRITE - S2:E9; Chapter Nine, The Gate - [Pt. 3]
A Will Byers x Reader Series
The survivors turn up the heat on the monstrous force that's holding Will hostage, and Y/n's powers are put to the ultimate test in the process. Eleven makes plans to finish what she started.
A/n: You might be noticing a lot less 1st person pov, I'm slowing inching away from that since 1st person isn't a strength of mine. I most likely will phase that out altogether, idk, let me know?
Trigger Warnings: Violent racism. Allusions to domestic violence. If you would like/need to skip, I will be putting the usual markers [●●●] before and after. Both of these warnings will fall under the marker. Safe reading, my loves! I care about you all so deeply, and I want you guys to have my stories as an escape so I'm really hating myself that this scene is coming out during all this. Not that it was ever not going on before cuz we all know that's bullshit, but with it all being so amplified right now. Again, I love you all and if you ever need anything 💕💕💕💞💞💞 edit: also brief mention of needles
||3rd Person POV||
Billy Hargrove's car skids to a halt in front of the Byers house, the four tires send gravel up flying. The headlights dim out with a sharp click as he puts the car to sleep, and the rusty car door squeaks as he opens it. He takes the dying cigarette out from between his smirking lips when he sees who is waiting for him on the porch.
"Am I dreaming, or is that you Harrington?"
Steve sighs, tiredly. "Yeah, it's me. Don't cream your pants."
A cocky smirk overtook Billy's face and he shed his coat out of intimidation. Steve stepped off the porch and the two boys walked across the yard until they were directly across from one another.
"Whatya doing here, amigo?" Billy asks.
Steve cocked his head to the side, his arms coming to cross over his chest. "I could ask you the same thing... Amigo."
The cigarette hung loosely from Billy's lips once more, and for a small but lingering moment, he observed Steve trying to get a read on him.
"I'm looking for my step sister. Little birdie told me she was here."
Steve was quick to dawn a mask of surprise. "Huh, that's weird I don't know her."
Billy's face was slowly but surely molding into a wild glare, his brows already knitted together in agitation. He begins gesturing, vaguely.
"Small, redhead. Bit of a bitch."
A lick of anger flickered over Steve but for the kids' sake, he didn't let it show. He merely shrugged in a bored manner.
"Doesn't ring a bell. Sorry, buddy."
Billy shook his head as he glowered at the ground, a twinge of disgust twisted up in his face. He took the cigarette into his hands, and he looks at it for only a second and smacks his lips.
A deep sigh resonates from within his chest, and he steps forward waving a shaky hand in the air.
"You know... I don't know, this...?" He falters, trying to find the appropriate word. "This whole situation, Harrington, I don't know. It's giving me heebie-jeebies."
"Oh yeah? Why's that?"
He takes another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke fill his lungs and the feeling fuels his rage.
"My thirteen-year-old sister goes missing all day," his cold green eyes were now wide and dilated. Beady almost as he looked at Steve, no longer attempting to hide his fury. "And then I find her with you. In a stranger's house. And you lie to me about it."
His voice is shockingly calm, but lower than usual. A disgusted and hardened scowl contorts his face, and it doesn't ever seem to move. Steve laughs, hoping it doesn't sound as nervous as he is beginning to feel. Luckily, he recovers quickly.
"Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?"
The smoke leaves Billy's lungs in a joyous cackle, his tongue flicks across his top set of teeth in excitement and there is a wild and unhinged look in his eyes. Steve didn't know it yet, but he had just said the magic words. He had just pushed the wrong button.
"I don't know what you don't understand about what I just said." Steve finished, watching unsettled as Billy continued to lick his lips excitedly. "She's not here."
Steve felt his confidence rising considerably. Up until Billy inched closer, he then rose up his cigarette, pointing it over his shoulder towards the house.
"Then who is that?"
Steve looks over his shoulder to find four heads crammed together against the window, watching.
Inside, Max, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike threw themselves down against the couch as fast as they could.
"Shit!" Cried Dustin, he looks between his friends hopefully. "Did he see us?"
"Oh, shit," Steve mumbles, turning back. "listen--"
Steve was on the concrete in seconds, Billy stalking forward to tower over him.
"I told you to plant your feet." He spits.
His right leg rears up and in one swift motion, his boot collides with Steve's abdomen, knocking the breath out of him.
The front door slams against the wall, shaking the frame and the four cowering bodies standing across the room.
His eyes narrow upon seeing Lucas among the bunch. Eerily enough, despite his bigoted fury, his face is completely devoid of emotion.
"Well, well, well," he seethes, one long arm throwing the door slammed behind him. "Lucas Sinclair, what a surprise."
He marches forward, and every thud of his boot's rubber soles against the linoleum is like a boom in his ears. He is already backing away, Max the only one brave enough to stay by his side. Billy's attention is redirected to her.
"I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max?"
"Billy, go away."
Her voice is shaking but she holds her ground. His voice lowers to a terrifying and threatening volume as he spits at her coldly.
"You disobeyed me," he says, in almost a sad and disappointed tone. "You know what happens when you disobey me."
"I break things,"
The second the words left his tongue, he whirls on Lucas picking him up by the scruff of his jacket and carries him all the way to the kitchen wall. He cries out, fighting against the iron grip, but it does little help. Terrified screams of protest erupted from the other three kids, but he doesn't listen.
"Get off of me, you--!"
Billy shoves Lucas farther into the shelf to enunciate his point and he leans in closer, teeth gritted.
"If Maxine won't listen to me, maybe you will," Lucas doesn't give up fighting, his legs and arms still struggle for freedom but what little confidence he had waned as Billy leaned in closer. "Stay away from her."
Lucas feels himself being pulled forward before being thrown back into the shelf again and he grimaces in pain.
"STAY," his head begins to tremor, his rage overcoming his body. "away from her. Do you hear me?"
His heart slamming against his ribcage as he stares at Billy and his furious scowl, Lucas takes several shallow breaths and grits his teeth right back. "I said get off of me!"
Lucas's knee flies up and connects with Billy's groin, and the young Hargrove stumbles back with a tremendous groan. He's doubled over, hands gripping his legs and squeezing in pain till his skin goes completely white. Slowly his head rises revealing his now purple face, it's decorated with several thick blue veins on his forehead. His groans of pain evolved into furious growls, and his beady eyes are locked on Lucas.
"You are SO dead, Sinclair!" He roared. "You're dead."
A hand landed on Billy's shoulder, ripping him around on his heel to find Steve with disgust written all over his face.
"No," he spits, cocking one arm back. "You are!"
Steve's fist collided with Billy's nose, sending the other teenager back several paces once again doubling over. He watched as Billy straightened up, an odious and maniacal cackle erupting from his throat as he wore a wicked grin. Blood began to pour from his nose, and he licked his lips excitedly. Behind them, Lucas had scurried away and into the waiting arms of his friends who all took him into a protective group hug.
"Looks like you got some fire in ya after all, huh?" Belted Billy joyously. He stalks closer towards Steve, his voice lowering with every word. "I've been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody's been telling me so much about."
Steve reaches out and places his two forefingers on Billy's chest, lightly pushing him away. "Get out."
Billy stills as if contemplating his next move but by the time Steve can even blink, Billy has already made it. His fist swings through the air, nearly hitting the side of his head if he hadn't ducked fast enough. As he comes back up, Steve uses the momentum to swing his own fist into Billy's head and it knocks him into the table.
Dustin and the other begin to jump for joy. "Yes! Kick his ass, Steve!"
Billy rises again, more blood covering his lip and another cackle bubbling up but Steve doesn't wait for it to coms out this time. He throws another punch, and it lands squarely in Billy's jaw and he tumbles further into the kitchen counter. He just laughs more, blood now pouring from his mouth and staining his lips and teeth.
His lower back collides with the rim of the kitchen sink, and everything on the counters nearby begins to shake. His head is rolled back in laughter, and the kids encouraging cries are enough to distract Steve from the fact that Billy's right hand is reaching for a plate.
It breaks over his skull and he stumbles back covering his eyes and clutching his scalp. The kids' cries never stop, but they do turn worried as they scream for him to get up, and various 'looks out's were thrown his way. Billy was already on the move, and his shoulder reared back, his hand balled up into a fist with his eyes locked on his target.
When the blow finally comes, Steve is sent into the shelf and several things fall to the floor, including himself. He manages to catch his footing before completely meeting the ground, and as he struggles for balance he fumbles into the living room. He feels himself being yanked up to his feet, Billy's hands grip his sleeves tightly and he gives him a good jolt. His head rolls around on his shoulders as he is thrown around, still blind sighted with pain.
All he can do at the moment is push his one free arm into Billy's heaving chest, desperate to create as much distance as possible. He's shaken again, and Billy drops his voice into an angry hiss.
"No one," he pants. "tells me what to do."
His head flies back before barreling into Steve's, once again sending him flying across the floor. A triumphant cry is ripped from Billy's bloodied lips, the veins in his forehead and throat resurfacing. He stomps across the room towards Steve, all the while ignoring the many screams and pleas for him to stop and leave him alone.
"You're gonna kill him!"
"Get up, Steve! Come on, you can do it!"
Billy swings one leg over Steve's nearly unconscious form, trapping him in one spot and continues to throw his punches now completely unhinged. Steve's head is swung from side to side as each of Billy's fists connect with his face. Blood flies with every swing, a terrifying roar erupting deep within Billy's chest, and Steve is already more than halfway under. It is truly a disturbing sight to behold, the kids stand planted to the ground in utter terror, screaming their throats raw, begging for him to stop.
All except for Max. She knows her stepbrother is too far gone, and even if he wasn't, he never was an easy one to talk down. She must take matters into her own hands, and that's exactly what she does.
Her eyes have already found one of the syringes used on Will, and it was still full. Wasting no time she snatches it up and rips off the cap. Shoving the boys aside, Max marches across the living room to an unsuspecting Billy. The syringe flies above her head before descending in one swift motion and entering his neck.
Max backs away, the syringe remains buried deep in his skin. He clamors to his feet, staring at her in shock though already it has begun to take effect. He staggers back as loses balance, and his eyelids grow visibly heavy. His bloodied hand feels as if its filled with lead as it rises all the way up to his neck, and he winces as pulls the needle out.
"The hell is this?" He grumbles, lumbering after her. "You little shit, what did you do?"
He has to fight hard to maintain his vision and his balance. It feels as if gravity has tripled. With her directly in his sights, his anger once again redirected at her, he commands his feet to take him to her. Instead, he blinks and finds himself on his back with an aching spine.
"Shit," Mike breathes.
The anesthesia coursing hard through his veins is enough to subdue him but does not bring him completely under as it did the small Byers boy. But it was enough for everyone at that moment. They watched disturbed as he laid on the floor, his head rolling back and forth as he laughed almost joyously. He was amused.
Max only looks at him, for once in her life without even a sliver of fear. All that's left is loathing, and disgust.
She shakes her head, deciding she is still not done. Max would ensure that this would not happen again.
Max takes the bat into her hands and held it over her shoulder, stalking over till she towered over Billy as he had done to her oh so many times.
"From here on out, you are going to leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?"
"Screw you," he spits.
With all her might she throws the bat into the floor just between his legs, his head limply raises up to see that it had missed his crotch by only inches. Everyone watches in awe.
She has to pry the bat from the floor, the several metal nails had been buried deep into the wood floor only further proving her strength and point.
"Say you understand!" She roars. "Say it!"
He says nothing, his head still rolls across the floor.
"I understand," he whispers meekly.
Her brows shoot up, and she tilts her head. "What?"
"I understand." He repeats.
His eyes flutter closed, exhaustion sweeping over him. Satisfied, and finally free, Max drops the bat to the ground with a clatter.
Three mouths watch agape at the sight, they only widen further when she steps around his still body. Bending over, she pulls a set of keys that stick out from his pocket and hold them up for all to see with an impatient look.
"Let's get out of here."
The ride here lasted way too long, at least it felt like it did. My hand comes to rest on the shoulder of Jonathan's seat as I try to peer around to look at where we are. The car had already been going fairlybslow these past few minutes, but it had gotten even slower leaving me to believe we had to be here. Sure enough, just past a few trees, I can barely make out a small wooden porch of the cabin illuminated by the headlights.
I look over to my right at Joyce as the car comes to a stop. Nancy and Jonathan exit the car and head for the trunk, their doors rocking the car a bit when they close them. Will, for the most part, is cradled against Joyce, his head lays against her chest. She hasn't taken her eyes off of him since we got in the car, she's just been lovingly stroking his hair and brushing strands away from his face. My eyes fall to him, my mind hasn't been able to think about anything else other than him or what I'm about to try to do.
I feel eyes on me, and I look up to meet eyes with Joyce. Her expression is hard and somber, her lip is trembling but her eyes are far kinder. We share a silent exchange, knowing the road that lies ahead will not be an easy one, and it's almost a weak attempt at consoling each other.
I take a deep breath and open my door.
I stop, my hand leaving the handle and I look at her curiously.
"Sweetie, I am so, so proud, a-a-and thankful for what you are willing to do for this family," she smiles halfheartedly. "But this is a lot to ask. Are you sure this is something you're up for? I couldn't possibly ask you to do something so big if it's too much."
I look at my feet, her words bouncing around my head. They are the perfect meal for my anxiety, feeding all my fears and doubts. And yet, nothing inside me changes. I look up at her, my eyes falling to Will as I speak.
"Yes," I murmur, shaking my head a bit. "I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if I didn't at least try."
My eyes well up with tears, and I look to the woman, who so long ago, had become like a second mother to me.
"Will's my best friend, he's one of the best people I know. And I know he would do the same for me," her eyes are fogging up too, I realize. "This family has done so much for me... I want to give something back."
"Oh, honey," she croaks, reaching a hand out and over Will to give my hand a light squeeze. "You are apart of this family."
The dam breaks, and I feel several hot tears slide down my cheeks and dangle from my jaw. I smile crookedly and soon so does she. She gives my hand another light and loving squeeze and we nod and exit the car.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Between the four of us, we managed to get Will and everything we brought up to the house in one trip. I took the stuff Jonathan had grabbed from the trunk so that he could carry Will.
Nancy is the first to enter, and hitting a switch by the front door, a couple of lights flicker on. We file in one by one, and when I enter after Jonathan, I'm surprised at what I see. And smell. I had expected a mothy, and dusty old cabin given the boards over the windows but it was surprisingly tidy and smelled a bit like an unusually pleasant mix of laundry detergent and pine.
It finally hits me this was where El had spent the last year. It's weird to think this is where she has been living all this time. I step out of the way as Joyce comes in after me, and hesitates just as I did to look around. I stand on the other side of the couch as Jonathan lays Will down on the cushions. Thankfully, he hadn't woken up and we can all only hope that he stays that way until we're ready. We were halfway there when we realized we forgot the anesthesia.
I release a deep breath, trying to push out as much of my nerves as I can and my eyes linger across the room soaking up the details. My eyes catch on what lays sprawled out on the coffee table; a large and completed puzzle of a fireworks display. I feel my expression soften, the ends of my lips tugging up as I think about El enjoying her puzzles.
"It's actually," Nancy said as she got a good look around. "kinda nice."
"Hopefully we can keep it that way," I joke dryly.
I watch as Joyce roams around the room inspecting the place, finally she stops in front of the cast iron fireplace and kneels down in front of it. She looks up at all of us and nods.
"We'll do it here."
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Jonathan and Joyce bring Hopper's bed out into the living room in front of the fireplace. All the while, Nancy and I begin setting up the heaters.
I'm glad I have the help, it makes everything a little less intimidating. Only a little. I still know that this is going to take just about everything I've got.
But I meant what I said to Joyce. I am going to do this. I have to. And I want to.
That quick trip to Chicago is starting to turn out to be not such not a bad thing, after all. If I hadn't gone, I never would have broke. I never would have hurt so hard that I found my control. I never would have hit rock bottom. But that's the thing about rock bottom, I guess.
You can only go up from here.
Joyce begins to fill the fireplace to the very top, and Jonathan and Nancy have already turned on the space heaters.
I return from the kitchen with snacks and juice in hand, and I felt absolutely foolish. But halfway through set up, I realized I was going to need all the strength I could get. Which meant I needed fuel. Thankfully, the others not only understood but encouraged it. Even though it all made sense, I still felt silly sitting at the table, eating Hopper's food while everything was going on around me.
But I'm so hungry. I hadn't realized how tired and starving I was until I sat down. It must have been almost a full day since I've eaten! I try to remind myself that this is all what's best for everyone. I can't make much of a difference if I'm not taking care of myself too.
I'm surprised I'm having trouble at all, but my nerves are only growing as time marches on. But before I know it, I've cleared everything in front of me, and just in time, too. The others are now gathering around Will, and they don't seem to be attending to any more details. I rise from my chair and join them.
When I see Will, I can feel coils around my heart tightening, constricting it completely. I suddenly wish Dustin were here just so I could yell at him, cause it really did look like it was right out of the Exorcist.
They had managed to tie his hands and feet down, each limb now connected to each leg of the bed. His arms laid as perfect 'L's beside his head, and he was still an unnatural shade of white.
"You sure this is a good idea?" Jonathan asks, voicing all of our inner doubts.
Without breaking her gaze away, and the hard and stern expression returning to Joyce's face she answers.
"This thing has had Will long enough," she spits, sounding as angry as I felt. "Let's kill this son of a bitch."
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Black Lives Matter links below. Check them out please! Do what you can, every voice counts! These past couple resources have been thanks to @ blm-links on tumblr
Colorado Freedom Fund
"Founded in 2018, Colorado Freedom Fund (CFF) is a revolving fund that pays ransom (posts money bond, pays cash bail) for people unable to afford the cost of buying their own freedom. #FreeThemAll #BringOurNeighborsHome"
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So please tag them below, or here in the comments, any you might know of on this site or ao3, they NEED to be easier to find!! Especially with x readers. I'll return here and add to this as well when I can. Again, soon I hope to find a more creative and useful way to tag black and poc/woc!wow! Cause again, I want this to be an easy to find resource for anyone looking for xreaders.
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No Longer A Ladies Man
Bucky X Fem!Reader
Word count: 2.3k
You pretend to be interested in the jabbering of your friend as she talks about a man she had met down at Coney Island. Apparently he was tall, dark and handsome. Loosely translated, that meant he was most likely an alcoholic who was also, very conveniently, slightly good looking.
"I've told you before, Lila, don't get involved with men who you describe to be 'tall, dark and handsome'. Never once has that gone well for you." You swirl the alcohol around in your glass, bitter bronze splashes over the rim and lands on the sticky table, "Don't you remember. . . what was his name?"
"Mike? Ed? No, Robert." You nod your head when she finally says the right name in her long line of ex-lovers.
She sighs when you knock back the rest of the liquor in your glass. "Yes, Robert. Not only did that man go on a bender each night and knock back gallons of booze by sunrise, but when you weren't there he had a call-girl between your sheets. Funnily enough, you described that souse as tall, dark and handsome too."
Her cheeks flush scarlet, if you didn't know any better, you'd think she was a show girl with make-up ready for a stage. It was clear that she knew you were right, you usually were about these kinds of things.
Never once had your heart been broken. Some may say it's because you were smart enough to do the heart breaking, others would say it's because you steered away from relationships completely. You would agree with the latter. It wasn't intentional, the steering away that is, but you had never found anyone who was capable of both catching your eye and not sleeping with the honey next door.
"What about James? You know, the one who's friends with the kid thats always sick." Lila eyes you, smirking slightly when the tips of your ears turn a faint pink. So, maybe you lied.
"That kid is called Steve and he's older than you." You sit straight, and cast your gaze out towards the bar.
A rushed tune is performed from the corner of the pub, a band of four play various instruments, the most noticeable being the piano. In front of them, on the dance floor, is multiple couples kicking their legs to and fro. You had never understood dancing, plus you had two left feet.
"You never answered my question. What about James?"
You'd be lying if you said you had no feelings for the man with the pretty blue eyes. Ever since he had moved into the house next door, his girl-winning smirk had been stuck in your head and you knew that he knew that. Even now, he sits next to Steve at a table near the dance floor, eyes locked onto your face turned away from him.
"He's a ladies man. Not one bone in that mans body is at all reliable."
Lila wags her brows. "I can think of one bone that seems to be very reliable."
"Don't be crude, Lila." You try to remain serious but can't help but chuckle, "But no. Don't get me wrong, Bucky's a looker but all that man wants to do is get into any woman's unmentionables."
"Hmm, I don't know. Apparently he hasn't shown any interest in any of the woman throwing themselves at him recently." Lila grins when she turns her head, eyes landing on Bucky who quickly looks away from you and starts talking to a very bored Steve.
Your head shakes. "And? I ain't no dreamboat, Lila, he isn't turning away woman for me. I don't think I've even spoke to the man for a few months, we occasionally wave to each other through the window but thats about it."
"Well, he's coming over so you might want to think of some conversation." Your eyes widen as the man in question enters your eye line. He looked as amazing as ever in his navy blue shirt tucked into coal pants. Despite Brooklyn being rather gloomy the last few months, you spot a tan line under the sleeve of his shirt.
Bucky slides into the booth next to you, he grins at Lila who winks in your direction before jumping from her seat and making her way over to a now lonely Steve.
"What brings you here, doll?" You can't help but notice how close he sits to you. His thigh brushes against yours, he leans in closer, grinning down at you with those beautiful baby blues.
"I was here to meet with Lila but you pushed her away, awfully rude, Mister Barnes."
He chuckles, then drawls in that seductive voice of his, "I like the way you say my name, do it again."
"Are you trying to make a pass with me, Buck?"
"Is it working."
You smirk through the red of your cheeks. "Maybe. Buy me a drink and we'll see if it's working then." He bangs his hands against the table in celebration, and stands, heading to the bar. You watch him leave with a smile, though your head was confused as to why you let him flirt with you so easily.
Bucky wasn't the type to get you drunk and take advantage, so you weren't worried about him filling you with alcohol to have ten minutes with you later on. What worried you was that that was all he wanted. Just ten minutes.
It wasn't like you were expecting the man to pop the question right there in the middle of the bar, but you were hoping that maybe, just maybe, one day he would ask the question almost every girl wants to hear.
Plus, unlike every other man you had met, Bucky had both caught your eye and not slept with the honey next door because that honey would be you. However, you wouldn't be against it. Not as a one night stand though, you hated those, especially when one side of the party felt so much more than the other. Watching people leave a bar together almost always broke your heart because although they're having fun, almost always one of them gets hurt when the sun comes back up.
Two empty glasses and a bottle of scotch is placed on the wooden table chipped by years of abuse from bar brawls and overly excited drinkers. "Most ladies like wine." You joke, as he removes the cork and pours the fiery liquid.
"You aren't most ladies." He hands you one of the glasses as he takes a swig from his own. You chuckle when his face screws up at the taste of the alcohol made to attack the taste buds.
"Whats wrong, Buck? Wishing you had that wine now?"
He cocks his head, grinning despite the drink left discarded on the table. "Wine seems more romantic, don't 'cha think?"
"Good job you didn't get wine then." You say, taking a sip from your own glass. Bucky quirks a brow, when he leans forward you don't move away or edge closer.
His lips brush against your ear, the touch sends a shock down your spine. "It's a real shame that you don't see this that way, I'm truly a romantic."
"Sure you are, Buck." You turn your head towards him. Your noses meet, and at this point there was no room between the pair of you.
The bar was like an ice box but Bucky was warmer than the campfires your father would light during your yearly camping trips. It was almost comforting, and strangely it felt like a hug you never wanted to pull away from. "I can show you how romantic I am if you'd let me."
The corners of your lips quirk. "Show me."
He pulls away and stands, holding out a hand for you to take. "May I have this dance, doll?"
"I have two left feet." You slip your hand into his, letting him pull you to your feet.
"It's a good job that I have two arms to keep you up."
The tune played by the now lone piano wasn't one you recognised but instantly loved the second it graced your ears. The man playing had musicians hands, it was like he was born to grace the ebony keys. Unlike most tunes, this one didn't have a ridiculous dance to match the solemn notes and trills that made people want to swing themselves around the room.
At least five other couples were on the tiled floor, swaying and twirling to the music. Everyone else that was in this part of the pub before had left, either because of the music change or because they had someone to bring home for the night.
Bucky places his hand on the small of your back, and entwines the other with your hand thats not clasping his shoulder. He smiles down at you who stares at your feet, making sure they're not going to step on the polished slacks that he wears.
"You're not going to step on my feet." He says it so softly that you're sure you're imagining it.
"I don't want to ruin your shoes." You respond. Bucky shakes his head and stops the pair of you to stand on his own feet, dulling the shine with dried mud.
"They're already ruined." Bucky spins you at the same time as the other men spin their own partners, and pulls you back, flush against his chest. You hesitate, but place your cheek against his shoulder, "(y/n), do you like me?"
Your brow furrows. "In what way?"
"You know what way I mean." He says, looking away from you to Steve who was giving him a thumbs up.
Clearly, your answer was yes, and not because he was quite possibly the prettiest man you had ever set eyes on. No, you liked him because of who he is. Bucky was one of the most loyal people you had ever met, and he was always gentle with you, never once had he raised his voice or directed his rage towards you. Every time the pair of you were together, he would make sure he was next to you at all times, defending you against any man looking in your direction in a way you didn't like.
Then there was the fact that after all the years, your crush had probably turned into something a little bit more. During the day your mind often wondered, and usually, no matter where it wondered to, it always found Bucky. Even when you were at Coney Island, you often found yourself looking for Bucky's face in the crowd of people.
So, it came as no surprise to you when you say, "Yes, and you."
He grins to himself when the song begins to come to close. When the last note is played, Bucky dips you and places a chaste kiss to your neck. "There's a reason that the 'famous ladies man' is no longer a ladies man." With each word, his lips brush against your skin more an more. His confession lands multiple kisses to your neck and leaves you a blushing mess.
"A simple yes would have sufficed." Your voice was quieter than it was meant to be. If Bucky wasn't still holding you at his mercy, he probably wouldn't have heard you.
Your eyes flick from Bucky to the crowd of people gathering to watch the pair of you at the bar. Multiple women scowl, their cherry painted lips cutting into you like sharpened knives ready to kill. Some men, mainly one's you had brushed off in the past, watch Bucky like a pack of hungry wolves ready to snatch up their prey.
"Bucky, people are staring." You can feel his smile against your neck tainted pink as he pulls you to your feet and nods to the pianist to start a new song.
When the new tune plays, Bucky shifts his arms to wrap around your waist. "Let them stare. Let them know that I have the prettiest girl in Brooklyn blushing in my arms." You swat his arm when you blush again.
"You did that on purpose."
"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't."
His forehead rests against yours, and you can't help but look up at him with all the love and adoration you can muster. Which just so happened to be a whole lot. You hadn't felt love before, but if this is what it felt like, you were very much on board with feeling this until you die.
"If you keep looking at me like then I might have to be the ladies man one more time." His eyes darken, their gentle nature being replaced by something that made you slightly weak in the knees. Your smile grows as you press your lips to his, the grip he has on your waist tightening.
Steve and Lila grin from their spot at the booth you previously occupied, the pair of them finally happy to have the pair of you together. For months, Steve had to listen to Bucky whine about you not paying enough attention to him.
Bucky's lips were soft against yours, his touch gentle and on purpose. He didn't want your first kiss to be something that forced the two of you into bed. No, he wanted it to mean something more, mark something more than the first time the pair of you spent the night together.
The cold of the bar is long forgotten when Bucky pulls the pair of you away from the dance floor, and into his arms by the far wall. He pulls his lips away from yours. You whine in protest.
"Everyone's definitely staring now." He says, placing his chin on your shoulder to watch all the disappointed faces ordering drinks at the bar.
You smile. "Let them stare. Let them know that Bucky Barnes is no longer a ladies man because he's mine."
My Life With You
IV. So There's This Guy...
Dean's been spotted around town and made quite the impression on the local singles. (All chapers can be read stand-alone)
Read on AO3 | Fic Masterpost
The sun was long past the horizon, the high street illuminated by the yellow-amber glow of the street-lights and the dim coloured lights spilling out from the bars. The spring air was cool and still, the whoops and hollers of the rowdy Friday night crowds echoed through the centre of town.
In one of the bars that lined the street, a group of early-thirties women gathered together to toast to another week of work behind them. Pushing past their exhaustion was their relief, their ecstatic joy at being free at last, even if only for two days. The ladies sat around a high circular table covered in a rainbow of different fruity cocktails, curly straws, and paper umbrellas. Already the table was littered with empty glasses of drinks long since backed.
“So…” began one woman, Rachel, pushing her long blonde hair behind her shoulder. “I saw the hottest guy at the playground the other day.”
Tia, a tattooed, bespectacled brunette, leaned in eagerly. “Oh?”
Rachel gave a knowing look to her friend before she began her story…
“It was on Wednesday, on my day off. I took Ethan out to the playground near my house, and it was all normal; the usual moms and nannies,
“Anyway, then I spot this guy helping his little kid, the cutest kid by the way, on the slide. There are a few dads around sometimes, you know, but this guy- when I tell you he was cute, it’s an understatement,
“He was so good with his kid too. The way he smiled at that kid, it was like he felt just so lucky to have him. Every five seconds he was squeezing him, or ruffling his hair, or kissing him on his little forehead.
“I just thought, I bet he’d make such an amazing step-dad, maybe I should get on that. A guy like that’s definitely not single I bet. I don’t know if he’s married, I couldn’t see a wedding ring from where I was sitting, but I was pretty far away.”
“So you didn’t speak to him?” a third woman, Sara, with hair in a neat puff and arms wrapped tight in a thick cardigan, asked, straw perched just below her lip poised to take another sip.
“No, I just watched him from afar.” Rachel sighed dreamily, recounting the man’s devilish smile and angled jaw in her mind.
“Why not?” Tia pushed, playfully slapping her friends arm. “You need to get back out there since Mike.” she spits the name and follows up with a gagging gesture.
“I know, I know.” Rachel shrugs, shrinking somewhat from her earlier excitement. “I’m still working up to it, but if I see him again I swear I will.”
The fourth woman, Yulia, took a big sip of her mojito, almost like a deep inhale, then added. “I have a cute guy story too.”
Tia perked up immediately and starting bouncing in her seat. “Okay, okay, spill.”
“So,” Yulia began, fiddling with her tall glass and nervously shuffling in her seat. “He’s been coming into the café every morning to get coffee,
“He’s tall- actually not that tall, maybe six foot? But still - tall. Anyway, he came in on Thursday morning and he actually made conversation with me. When he got up to the counter he gestured up to the menu and was like ‘I don’t know what half these things mean’. And I just laughed really nervously; it was so embarrassing. His smile was so pretty, you guys, I just melted. Then he said ‘Cas is the one who knows about all this stuff, I can’t keep up, you know, coffee is coffee.’
“I think Cas is his wife or something ‘cause then I clocked he had a wedding ring on. Shame. Anyway I just said ‘yeah’ really awkwardly in a sort of half swoon; I couldn’t come up with anything to say. Then he goes on to order the most complicated drink with like, three different flavour shots in it. He says ‘it’s not for me’ like he’s so embarrassed about it, it was so cute. I was like ‘no judgement, you can order whatever you like’. I really didn’t mean to sound so thirsty.
“Then he leaves and, I don’t wanna admit this, but I watched him go, you know. Nice ass.”
Sara, who was seemingly the most composed of the four, shook her head, snickering at her usually timid and reserved friend openly thirsting for coffee shop guy. Tia was frowning, trying to string together a thought that was forming messily and incoherently in her slightly tipsy mind.
“That kinda sounds like the guy who fixed my car…” Tia mused, voice a little slurred.
“Oh my gosh,” Yulia gasped, more excited than this particular revelation really called for. “I think coffee shop guy did say he was a mechanic at one point.”
“Wouldn’t it be crazy if it was actually the same guy though,” Tia said, before taking a big sip through her straw. “The car guy was really hot too. Like, I was twirling my hair the whole time laughing at everything he said.”
“Oh my god, Tia,” Sara shook her head. “Did you know he was married?”
“Yeah I saw the ring, whatever,” Tia laughed. “I bet I can steal that bitch’s man.”
“God, stop it.” Sara scolded through her laughter.
“Seriously, unless she is the perfect vessel of divine beauty, I could totally steal him,” Tia continued. “I mean, when I came to pick up my car there was definitely something there,
“I walked up and he, unprompted, was like ‘you’re the girl with a cute little bug, right?’. I was like,” Tia stuck out her chest, letting her cleavage peek out of her tank top in a cartoonish pose, and began to speak with an over-the-top sultry tone.
“‘Yeah, that’s me; cute girl for the cute bug.’. And then he laughed a little bit. Then he even commented on my tattoos he was like ‘nice sleeve’ and we talked about them a little bit and I asked him if he had any and he said he has one, but it’s on his chest. So… I was a little brave and I said ‘Oh, well you can show me some time if you want’ and I could have sworn he got a little flustered.”
“He probably got flustered because he was at work and he’s married!” Sara protested.
“Maybe,” Tia conceded with an unbothered shrug. She seemed a little lost in her thoughts. “He looked so good with a little car grease on him though. I’d buy a calendar of that guy. You know, I would so objectify him.”
“Tia, please.” Rachel grimaced. “Here’s me talking about a sweet loving father, and then there’s you flirting with a married mechanic.”
“I mean, not to be judgemental,” Sara added. “But how do you know he’s not like a typical misogynistic macho type?”
“What, just because he’s a mechanic? That’s so judgemental, Sara, you can’t make assumptions like that.” Yulia scoffed. “He seemed really sweet. When he was talking about his wife, you could tell he really loves her. I didn’t get a typical ‘I hate my wife’ vibe from him.” Yulia gave a sympathetic look to Tia. “Sorry, Tia.”
“Doesn’t matter, I still think I have a shot.” Tia shrugged. “What ‘bout you, Sara? You got your eye on anybody? Some nerdy glasses guy who reads Jane Austen or whatever it is you’re into.”
Sara rolled her eyes. “Actually yeah, a really sweet guy came into the library this week with his kid. He’s probably too old for me, and I think he’s married, but he had dark hair and really nice blue eyes,
“He took out a bunch of picture books and he told me that he’d just moved here recently. He also borrowed some gardening books, which was like, swoon. He just seemed so genuinely sweet and honest. The way he spoke was just… kind?”
“He’s definitely gay.” Tia asserted. Sara just gave her a weary look. “I’m just saying every guy you like turns out to be gay. You have a type, and it’s gay guys.”
“No way! Dan wasn’t gay.” Sara pouted.
“Yeah, but he was bi, and he moved to Florida to be with his boyfriend Julian.” Rachel added.
“Well technically I had a shot with him. You know, before he moved to Florida.” Sara said, deflated. “I mean, library guy didn’t seem gay. Not that it matters anyway.”
“How does someone seem gay?” Yulia pondered honestly.
“Well it’s not like there’s one set of traits for gay people,” Tia said. “But I think a pretty good predictor is if Sara has a crush on them.”
“Woah guys, oh my god!” Rachel hissed, patting Yulia’s arm furiously. “The guy, the hot dad, he just walked in. Don’t look, but he’s right by the bar!”
The other three immediately started craning their necks, very obviously, to get a good look. There at the bar seeming to be ordering a pair of drinks was hunter, husband, and father; Dean Winchester.
“Dude, that’s the car guy.” Tia said, getting a good look by standing up on her tippy toes.
“Yeah, that’s coffee guy.” Yulia confirmed.
Tia sat back down. “Don’t tell me that’s library guy too?”
“No,” Sara shook her head. “Library guy had dark hair, remember.”
“Uhhh, that him?” Tia said, pointing towards the table that Dean was quickly approaching, two beers in hand, where a smiling Castiel sat in wait.
Sara gasped. “That is him.”
Dean, as soon as he had placed the two bottles down on the table, leant down to plant a quick kiss on Cas’s lips. As he pulled away, the girls could see Cas smiling up at Dean, his gentle gaze soft and sincere, while Dean looked back at Cas like he was looking at the most precious thing he’d ever laid eyes on, which he was.
The ladies sat in stunned silence; what they’d just witnessed was somehow disheartening and heartwarming all at once. Tia was the first to speak.
“Sara, you’re cursed.”
The Part-Time Puppeteer - Chapter 04
<= Chapter 3
Summary : Lukas has a totally normal day at work (spoiler alert: he doesn't).
Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828971/chapters/57890368
New chapter ! I hope you'll like it ! Don't hesitate to leave a comment if you did, it helps me a lot, I can assure you !
Sorry about the drawing not being finished, my tablet is dying and I couldn't do more. I probably won't be able to draw anything for this fanfic until I either solve the problem or buy another tablet...
Anyway, happy reading !
Chapter 4 - “I’m… I’m sorry?”
Kaleb did say that Lukas was going to have a lot of work because of the auditions… But the young man really thought it wouldn’t be that bad. For several hours, the student had to do many tasks, a lot of which involving physical efforts. He wasn’t very sporty usually, so it was quite demanding for his body. All his muscles seemed to beg him to stop after a while. After all, spending a few hours moving heavy props around and building stuff was not easy for a young nonathletic man like him. When his mentor, Tom, told him he could take a break, Lukas felt like he was hearing angels singing in the background. The student stretched, feeling his joints crack at the action. Oh, he so needed that.
Lukas approached the coffee machine in the room and prepared himself a cup. He had to drink at least one cup if he wanted to survive for the rest of his shift. He looked at his watch and was relieved to see he only had an hour or so before the end of his workday.
“Thank God,” he thought to himself with a sigh. The day had been quite tiring, both mentally and physically, and the idea of just collapsing onto his bed was extremely appealing to him. Though he knew he had some assignments to finish and that he wouldn’t be able to go to sleep before midnight. Welp, this had to be expected, with his studies and the fact that most of his free time would be taken by this gruelling job.
At least, Mike had done everything to make him feel at ease. His new friend also helped him to get acquainted with the other members of the team and Lukas was really thankful for that. The other man also got to explain why his evil twin was there and it only made the student’s day even more tiring than it already was. Apparently, when the guy had learnt about his brother’s participation in the project, he had “offered” to play a role and was given the antagonist part. However, “offered” wasn’t quite the right word and Lukas guessed that MJ forced himself in the project, from Mike’s face while the latter was explaining it. In a way, his presence was a good thing for the show, since MJ was very famous, even among children. His participation in the project would only raise the ratings of the show and this was something they deeply needed for the show to keep airing. However… MJ’s attitude on set was definitely not needed.
The guy was absolutely detestable, an opinion apparently shared by most people in the team. He was like a diva, but ten times worse. Not only did he criticize most of the stagehands for things he had no responsibility in, but he was also unquestionably disrespectful and odious to everyone, even Grooves himself! The nerves this guy had! He seemed to think he was superior to every person in this room! The only one to whom he was less displeasing was his brother, though Lukas didn’t envy him. If MJ wasn’t mean to him, he was at best condescending and at worst passive-aggressive.
Lukas also had to deal with him at some point, with MJ always pointing at his mistakes and wondering aloud why they hired a student out of all people in need of a job. No need to say that the only thing preventing Lukas to punch him in the face was the money he really, really needed at the end of the month. He hadn’t noticed how patient and calm he could be until now, if he had to be completely honest.
Did this execrable actor have some quality to compensate how rude he was? Not really. However, he did know how to act, almost perfectly. The young man had to admit that, at least. If only the other’s personality wasn’t so terrible… Lukas had been admirative of MJ in the past, when he didn’t actually know him, but now, his admiration had been thrown away. Very, very far away. The question was why no one had actually talked about it on the Internet or in the news. He would have to ask Mike about that, the next time he was alone with him.
His inner monologue was cut short when he heard a knock on the studio door. Well, that was unusual, since the team members came in and out without knocking. It then opened, revealing a man in his forties, soon followed by a little girl, hand in hand. The man was wearing a formal suit, as if he had just left an important meeting. His haircut was well-groomed and while the suit made him look like a strict person, his face seemed rather welcoming.
The little girl was quite young. She probably was an eight or ten years old kid, though Lukas didn’t know much about children, to begin with. She was wearing a black shirt with a glittery pattern the student didn’t recognize from where he was and she had white sleeves underneath. She was wearing light blue jeans overalls as well as a red jacket tied up to her waist by the sleeves. Nervousness could be seen on her face as she and her (probable) father entered the room.
They were probably here for the audition. The studio was looking for children for the main protagonists. Other families had come during his shift to have an audition, though Lukas had been too busy in the backstage to actually watch them. This time, however, he hoped he would be able to during his break. Witnessing an audition in a famous studio! If he had been told that a month ago, he wouldn’t have believed it.
The family was greeted by DJ Grooves and the little girl was handed a script for the scene. Lukas couldn’t hear anything from where he was standing, but he had no problem imagining that the child was been explained the scene she was going to play. Well, she probably rehearsed it plenty of times before, though the anxiety could still make her look for her words. It was just a precaution.
The director then called MJ over. Since the latter was the only actor playing one of the main characters, for now, he had to help with the auditions. The student thought the other would see it as a chore but, on the contrary, he was way too happy to show off his acting skills.
Yep, that was it. Lukas couldn’t stand that guy.
Lukas got closer to the shooting set, hoping he could watch a bit of the audition before going back to work. He held his cup of coffee to his lips, pretending to drink it when he had actually finished it a bit earlier. At least, he would look somewhat busy.
The little girl got up on the shooting set, doing her best to remain calm and taking deep breathes. Her father was watching her carefully with a mix of worry and pride on his face. MJ, on the other hand, seemed just fine and absolutely not anxious. Well, he was used to that kind of thing, so that made sense. And then, MJ’s eyes met his and the other smiled at him hypocritically, just to mock him. Lukas replied with a glare, which only made MJ snicker.
The student hated him. So much.
The actor took a puppet which had been given to him by one of the other stagehands. He readied himself and held it as if it was floating around the child. It was a puppet representing a character with blue skin and a red long coat. His head had the form of a croissant, and its eyes were grey and red, one of them having red diamonds in it. Its fingers were sharp like claws and some fangs could be seen from the puppet’s mouth.
Just as they were about to start the audition, a loud noise interrupted them, just like Lukas’s train of thoughts.
The door of the room had been opened abruptly, revealing the Conductor, out of breath. His face was covered in black, as if something had exploded next to him. The student did his best not to laugh at his frustrated and angry expression and looked away, not wanting to incur the Conductor’s wrath.
-“You’re late, darling”, remarked Grooves, without his usual glamorous tone. The reproach in his tone of voice was crystal clear, though. The other director lifted his hand to make him stop talking.
-“Oh don’t pecking start, Grooves!” retorted the Conductor, with his strong Scottish accent, emphasizing his partner’s name in a hateful way. Welp, they really couldn’t stand each other, could they? The Conductor approached DJ Grooves as the latter started talking again:
-“Well, I guess someone had another accident today,” said the DJ with a mocking tone: “What was it this time? The train engine blowing up in your current movie?”
The older man took a seat next to Grooves, not even greeting the little girl and her father while doing so. Boy, this audition sure was lively… Lukas couldn’t help but hope the child wouldn’t get too distracted by it. He couldn’t imagine how he would feel in her shoes.
-“Peck off, I’m not in the mood,” warned the Conductor darkly, before taking a speaker cone next to him. DJ Grooves simply rolled his eyes and sighed, as the other director shouted a loud “action!”, still not greeting the family. Well, seemed like Lukas found another person to add in the “not having any fucking manners” list. It sure was getting long after only two days of work…
The child jumped at the loud order but quickly pulled herself together. She took another deep breath and started talking, saying her lines with a confidence Lukas would never have. She was really talented and, even if he hadn’t seen the other candidates earlier that day, he couldn’t help but think she had something. Something which made her different. The way she moved across the stage, the way she said her lines and reacted to MJ’s ones, the fake expressions on her face as she acted… She was talented. Well, Lukas didn’t know much about acting anyway, but he did know that he was really impressed at the performance. It was also easy to see that the little girl was having a lot of fun playing her role. The student didn’t think this day would be enjoyable in any way, but there was something about watching this audition that made his shift infinitely better than what it was before.
That’s why he was astounded when he heard Grooves interrupting the audition with a “cut!”. Why? The young man didn’t understand! She was skilled!
The child’s expression went from the excitement of acting to a much darker one which Lukas knew very well: a mix of anxiety, sadness and disappointment. He felt a huge heartache seeing her like this and couldn’t help but relate. “How disappointed she must be!” was all the student was able to think as he was looking at her.
However, his distress disappeared completely with Grooves’s next sentence:
-“I don’t know… There’s something bothering me with the puppet.”
The words hit Lukas like a train as a huge feeling of surprise settled over him. The… Puppet?
MJ seemed to have the same reaction as him. His eyes widened, as if he had never expected criticism in the first place, which was probably the case in retrospect. The actor furrowed his brow, confused and slightly offended at the same time.
-“What do you mean?” questioned MJ almost innocently, yet it was very easy to see that he absolutely disliked where this conversation was going.
-“Well…” Grooves thought for a few seconds and then pointed to the puppet: “I’m wondering that maybe it might be a little too scary for the children watching the show.”
MJ was about to retort something but the Conductor was quicker and added:
-“For once, I’m gonna agree with DJ Peckneck,” the name made his colleague pinch his nose in disapproval: “It’s terrifying.”
MJ remained speechless for a few moments as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Well, it was true: Lukas was not a puppet specialist or anything, but it was scary as hell. The fangs, the claws, the corpse-looking skin… How could it not be creepy?
The actor straightened himself, looking around him like he couldn’t understand what was being said to him. He seemed like he was searching for someone who could back him up. Mike, who had entered the room not long ago, certainly because of the sudden agitation, noticed his brother’s distress and carefully approached the directors:
-“I-I’m sorry, but…” the lead designer gulped and tried to support his twin: “You asked for a spooky puppet, so I tried to-”
He was soon cut short by the Conductor, who glared at him:
-“Well, yeah, but look at it!” he demanded, pointing to the puppet.
-“It is quite unnerving, darling. Can you, perhaps… Make it cuter or something?”
-“Cuter?!” MJ’s offended voice echoed in the room. His eyes glanced between the directors as he spoke again, full of sarcasm: “I’m sorry, I thought you wanted a villain, not a tea-party monster!”
-“MJ…” Mike warned his twin, surely knowing very well where all of this was going, by the expression on his face. But MJ was not having it.
-“What, Mike? You’re going to let them criticize our work without saying anything? What are you, a doormat?”
Lukas winced at the words and felt his anger coming back full force. How could someone say that to their own brother?
All the stagehands had stopped working and were witnessing the young actor’s outburst.
Mike only remained silent, as the Conductor slammed his fist on the armrest of the chair he was sitting on:
-“That’s enough!” yelled the older director, without even needing the cone speaker to be heard all across the other side of the room.
A few moments passed with deafening silence, as MJ gave the Conductor a death stare, clenching his fists and his jaw, refusing to lose. But the other man was much more persistent than him and soon, MJ just threw the doll onto the floor with a force intensified by his anger.
-“You know what? Fine,” concluded the diva, with a faked gentle tone: “See if you can finish the audition without me, I’m done for today. Do not bother me.”
Lukas saw Mike cringe at the sound of the puppet hitting the floor. As a lead designer, the student couldn’t imagine how painful it must be to see the props you worked so hard on getting thrown away like they were just garbage.
That was it. Lukas was done taking that guy’s bullshit. He had to say something! But what if he lost his job after that? He couldn’t allow himself to lose an opportunity like this! Sure, the job was hard, but this was the only way he had to fund his studies! If he ever lost it…
His nervous and conflicted thoughts were interrupted as he saw MJ leaving the scene, stomping with fury. But as he was walking with heavy steps towards the door, one of his feet got caught up in the multitude of cables laying on the ground and he fell onwards. The actor’s face met the ground with a loud bump, resonating in all the quiet room. A quiet room which was soon filled with powerful waves of laughter. All the stagehands, even the directors, were laughing at the entitled actor’s fall. Mike, on the other hand, was the only one not laughing at all. On the contrary, the lead designer was watching his brother like one would watch a bomb about to explode. MJ lifted his face off the ground, utterly humiliated and Lukas found it absolutely priceless. The guy got just what he deserved!
And so, Lukas opened his mouth and laughed.
The actor’s face! The way he just fell down to the floor! This day had started so badly but now it was a hundred times better! Oh, he would never forget that!
He laughed for a few more seconds until he felt like something was wrong. And then it hit him like a train: he was the only one laughing now.
The student stopped immediately, closing his mouth as the realization hit him. That’s when he noticed that everyone was staring at him, their eyes widened and their face full of surprise. Oh gosh. It had happened again, hadn’t it? Lukas had laughed too loud and everyone had heard him. Instantly, he put a hand on his mouth.
The young man had always been very insecure about his laughter. For many people, laughing was something normal and easy, but for Lukas… He was absolutely ashamed of the sound and volume of his laughter. A lot of people had made fun of it at school just like many others had pointed it out to him years later.
Thus, with years of bullying and self-confidence destroyed little by little, Lukas had come to hate the sound of his laughter. And now, everyone was just staring at him in bewilderment. As for MJ, the man was glaring at him like he had never before, clenching his teeth and squinting his eyes. Oh, well, now Lukas’s hatred for the guy was mutual. Great.
The student wanted nothing more than to dig his own grave and bury himself in it. This was only his second day of work and somehow, he had managed to screw everything up again. God, what could he do to fix that? Could he even save himself from this situation? And oh, he couldn’t even imagine how MJ was going to go back at him with that… The student was not sure he would stand new hours of bullying about his laughter when he had just managed to keep his anxiety under control only a few years ago. And said anxiety was still hard to control today!
Lukas let out a nervous chuckle, glancing at the other team members, dread settling over him. What could he do, what could he do?
-“Hum… Sorry. I- uh, I’m going to go to the toilets now… Sorry again…” he mumbled, pointing to the door tensely and trying to speak as the words had trouble leaving his mouth. He had to get away, otherwise he would become a total nervous disaster. He had to get away, get away from all these people staring at him…
-“Hey, wait a second,” the Conductor’s voice arose in his back as he tried to leave, stopping him on his track. Oh God, could he get fired for laughing too loud? No, he knew it wasn’t possible, he knew how laws worked! This was just his anxiety talking! He was being irrational! His feelings were a mess and so were his thoughts.
Lukas just wanted to disappear as soon as possible. Yet, he turned back, facing the crowd of people again. The directors were staring at him with a look the student couldn’t recognize. His anxiousness intensified even more. Oh great, even more things to get scared about. He only waited, feeling like he was waiting to be given a death sentence. Finally, after what felt hours to Lukas, the Conductor started talking again:
-“Did you…” he paused, glancing between Grooves and the young man with a mix of confusion and curiosity on his face. It was strange not to see a negative expression on the director’s face. Seeing how the Conductor was looking for his words, Grooves took the reins of the discussion, though very much confused and curious as well:
-“Is that your real laugh, darling?” was the question the DJ asked him.
Lukas was mortified. He was only able to nod slightly, absolutely unmoving. In the corner of his vision, he saw MJ getting up, throwing the cables away from him furiously. When the latter looked up and met the student's eyes, there was definitely hatred in there. Yet, there was something else. And when the other started to smile, Lukas understood that he had been right: the actor would never let him forget what happened today.
He was so screwed.
The directors looked at each other, then glanced between Lukas and MJ. Wait, why were they staring at him too? The student felt like he had missed something, something huge. And when Grooves opened his mouth again, the young man was dumbfounded:
-“How about you got your chance at an audition?”
The word “astonishment” was clearly not strong enough to express Lukas’s state of mind at that particular moment. What?
-“I’m… I’m sorry?” he wondered aloud, certain he must have misunderstood something. There couldn’t be any possible way that he had been asked to try auditioning!
Grooves was about to answer but another voice interrupted him: MJ.
-“Are you kidding me?!” yelled the actor, both furious and confused: “He’s a student! He knows nothing about acting! What role would you give him anyway? A fucking tree in the background? Hah!”
MJ scoffed at his own joke, glaring both at the directors and the student in a superior way, as if he knew that he had always been right all along. But then, the Conductor answered his question, absolutely blowing MJ’s mind, just as Lukas’s.
-“We’re going to give him yours, you peck neck diva.”
Lukas felt the world turning around him. This was all a dream, right? This couldn’t be possibly happening! He was going to wake up and laugh at his stupid dream, and start his day as if nothing had happened! Because that could only be the case, right? This couldn’t be real!
But MJ’s scream, on the contrary, was very much real:
-“What?!” the actor’s voice resonated in all the room: “You’re going to do what?!” His intonation was loud and deadly serious.
Grooves was the one to reply, darkly, glaring at the young actor through his star-shaped glasses:
-“You heard us, darling,” was all the DJ had to say to shut MJ up.
A few moments passed where the latter stayed motionless, shaking from the rage he was trying to contain. In the other side of the room, Mike was watching his twin with extreme worry. And then, the bomb exploded. MJ screamed and stomped to the door, knocking all the shooting equipment on his way out, still screaming all while he did so. All the other stagehands could only stare in bewilderment, not knowing what to do. But before anyone could try to stop him, the actor stormed out and slammed the door behind him. Mike soon followed him, though it was easy to tell from his face that it wasn’t the first time something like that happened.
Lukas, on the other hand, remained unable to move, completely swamped by the events. It is only when he felt a tap on his shoulders that he came back to reality. He turned back, his face extremely pale. His eyes widened when they met Grooves’s ones. The latter was handing him a script, which the student stared, astonished.
-“We still have an audition to finish, darling. Why don’t you come help us to take it up again?”
This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t possibly be real!
But then, the student’s hand mindlessly grabbed the script and, when his fingers felt the soft surface of the paper against his skin… He knew that he was very well awake.
How did he get himself into such a situation…?
Welp, what a day for Lukas, right?
And that's when MJ's true hatred for Lukas starts :)
See you on the next chapter ! Stay safe everyone !
Chapter 5 =>
Summary: Your relationship with your boyfriend is hanging on by a very thin thread, and everything is a good excuse to not go back to your cold bed - and that’s how you find yourself in a situation that you will soon regret. This story takes place before Eren discovered he was a Titan shifter, before Wall Maria was retaken, even before it was broken. The veterans usually make fun of the cadets for being bratty teenagers, but were they any better?
(Y / N) = Your name
(L / N) = Last name
(E / C) = Eye colour
(H / C) = Hair colour
Just for the story’s narrative, you are going to be just a little bit shorter than Levi. I set Levi’s age to be 30 and your age 23 when Eren joined the scouts (considering that that happened during the year of 850 and Attack on Titan: no regrets is set during 844) So Levi will be 24 when the real story begans and you will be 17 years old.
This story contains mentions of swearing, alcohol, death (because snk) and sexual relationships. Please keep in mind and read under your own safety. All the chapters’ links are on my masterlist (link on the blog description), most of them are posted on AO3 because Tumblr doesn’t allow me to do a post that is so long. Deeply sorry if this is inconvenient for you, please be understanding.
I don’t own the characters here presented, they belong to Hajime Isayama. The only thing that belongs to me is the idea of the story.
Chapter three: Girl at home
I analyze all the face-expressions of each one of the kids that are sharing this moment with me. Sasha and Connie seem to be quite bored; Jean and Armin look like they don’t believe me and Eren is arguing with Mikasa because she insists that it’s too cold and he should wear a sweater or whatever. . .
“Am I boring you guys? This is not what you had in mind?” I wonder, trying to understand why my tale doesn’t have the impact I was waiting for.
Mixed answers, Jean and Armin are the two ones more involved while the rest… well, the rest have their minds in another world.
“Did the captain treat you like that?” Armin asks, dismayed.
“What? You don’t believe me? You can always go and ask Levi about the
veracity of the facts” I say and do a side smirk, I am trying hard to look cool here but then I realized what I have just said “Actually, no. Don’t you dare to go and ask Levi about it?”
“Why not? Are you lying?” Sasha questions with a playful smile.
“No, actually I’m telling the truth but the problem is that Levi hates sharing about his personal life. So, for the sake of all of us, we should keep this as a secret” Somehow that reply seems to persuade them and thank god it does. Because with my relationship in the state that it’s and Levi realizing that I have been telling stuff about him to his squad, then the break up is going to be pretty much official.
“If it’s true that you two used to hate each other so much, how did you start dating?” Jean wonders, resting his face on the palm of his hand.
“Jean boy! a relationship is not “hello, how are you? Do you want to get laid?” there is a process” I explain while rolling my (E / C) eyes.
It’s amazing how at that age we think that love is a magical little thing that suddenly happens and lasts forever. When it’s more complicated and scarier. It’s a painful process that sometimes can end good, others bad and in other cases takes a long time to end. I can’t stop wishing that my case isn’t the last one while I touch my bandages. ‘Is this what you wanted?’ I meditate feeling suddenly tired. I could do better than this and I know it, running away like a scared little kid. I shouldn’t be down this watch post, I should be talking with him and reminiscing all this while he held me in his strong arms after a good sex night. Not here, not with them, not doing this, no-
“Talking about getting laid” Connie interrupts my train of thoughts “When are we getting to the spicy part?”
Suddenly everybody is excited again. All of them looked over at me with curious glances and slight blush on their young cheeks. They aren’t expecting me to chit-chat about my sexual life with their Captain, right?
“Don’t tell me that you think I’m going to open up about what goes on in my sheets?” I speak up my mind trying to confirm my suspicions. But their silence and red faces are the descriptions of disappointment. Except for Mikasa, she reminds me of Levi somehow.
“Let’s do this, when we arrive at that part, we will see what I tell you or not. The problem is that we are not there yet and we will never be if you keep interrupting me” I say and they nod, waiting for me to keep going.
I take a sip at one of the bottles that were in the centre of the round. I wish I could hide my disgusted face while I hear them laugh at my expression. Damn it, teenagers and their cheap alcohol.
Where was I? Oh yeah, the first morning of training with my no-boyfriend back then. . .
For those of you who don't know or haven’t noticed yet, I’m from Sheena’s wall. I lived there all my life before joining the military, not even from one of the districts, I lived in the middle of the downtown of the capital. There is no fancier place in this world than where I’m from. The story of why or how did a rich girl like me turn out in the scouts are details for later on. My typical accent from the capital always seems to betray me and I can bet you that Levi knew where I was from even before I opened my mouth that night. I mean, it wasn’t a secret where I was from. Maybe my variety of shirts or dresses for free days, my hair clips or perhaps my perfume were what blew the whistle about my origins. It could be that this little fact about me was what made my coexistence with Levi almost impossible at the beginning. While he was drinking filthy water to survive down there, I was sleeping in a big king size bed full of teddy bears and feather-filling cushions while my maid was preparing my breakfast.
I woke up as usual, in that tiny and uncomfortable bed that every cadet has. My (H / C) hair scattered all over my pillow and my morning was full of hundreds of failed attempts to leave my bed. I’m not a morning person, that is for sure. I stretched a bit and got ready for the rest of the day. During my morning routine in my shared room, I realized two things. One, Nanaba was not in the room, which meant she spent the night in Mike’s room. ‘Lucky her, I wish I had a superior boyfriend. They have beautiful rooms all for themself’ I thought while brushing my hair. The second thing was that I better hurry up because my training was about to start. Breakfast was served between 6 to 7 am for recruits, somehow, I always managed to be there to grab a cup of tea ten minutes after the closing time. I braided my hair to be out of the way, washed my face and put some cream on and chose the shirt I would wear that day. After all that and making sure I was ready I made my way to the mess hall. While some people could point out that I put too much effort into my looks, I could easily justify that if there’s one thing, I learned during my days living in the capital city is:
How they perceive you, they treat you.
Smiling and waving to everybody on my way, perhaps this was another of the things that Levi couldn’t tolerate about me back then. I opened the gates and scanned the room trying to find that particular short black-haired man. He wasn’t there and I took a look at my watch. ‘It’s 6:45, maybe he isn’t a morning guy’ I thought while trying to point out the reason why he wasn’t there that morning. I shrugged while thinking that maybe I would find him, later on, to do our chores as a duo. I picked up my tray and went to sit down next to Petra and a few other girls, like Nifa for example.
“I adore the shirt that you are wearing today (Y / N)!” Nifa pointed out while biting her lower lip. ‘See, Nifa understands me! she is a fashion girl too’ I said to myself while smiling at her.
“It would look lovely on you! the deep navy blue would make your gorgeous honey eyes shine even more” I commented back to her, she was a sweet girl and I used to go out with her to visit the downtown sometimes.
There wasn’t much to prepare for an outfit during duty days, I used to limit myself to shirts of basic colours, like white, shades of grey and black. Sometimes I went a little bit more dramatic with a long sleeve black and white or navy blue and white horizontal stripes t-shirt. But today, it was a simple white shirt with a deep navy-blue hem and buttons of the same colour. I had always liked how blue combined with the colour of the wings of freedom. The rest usually wear the first thing they found during the morning that was not even clean or new compared to that, I was a model whose runway was the corridors where I carried the tea for my squad leader.
“Hey Petra, since know so much about Mr Grumpy, do you know where he is?” It was not like I was going to share the breakfast with him but just to make sure someone had seen him at least.
But my paranoia was rising as Petra shook her head giving me a silent reply. ‘I hope he didn’t oversleep during the first day’ I wondered. Oh, little did I know that “oversleep” or just “sleep” are missing words in Levi's dictionary. I tried to enjoy the rest of my breakfast while having my (E / C) eyes on the door. Meal time was over and that little bastard was nowhere to be seen.
“Hey Gerald, have you seen Levi?” I asked one of my male comrades, maybe a boy knew better.
“Who?” He simply replied.
“Levi, the short guy from the underground?” Levi was not even half as popular as he is nowadays, mainly because he didn’t talk with anyone.
“Ah, no freaking idea where that bastard is” The brunette answered my question and then added, “But maybe you should ask Will, I think they share rooms in the barracks.”
I thanked him for the information, left my tray and began to search for my lost partner. ‘Didn’t Erwin tell him that we have chores to do during mornings? Where the hell is he?’ I talked to myself while my big (E / C) eyes searched all over the place. I checked every corner and corridor for Levi or William. I looked for him through the windows, maybe he was on the training camp and when I was about to turn on the corner, I saw Will. He was cleaning the corridors with another recruit, and I smiled at both of them.
“Hey Will, good morning” I greeted the tall black-haired boy “Do you mind if I ask you if you have seen Levi?”
"O-oh, hey (Y / N)! Good morning “Will saluted me back with a light shade of pink all over his face, he was such a sweet boy “MH, I usually don’t see him during mornings. He is already gone when I wake up.”
“What a pity” A loud sigh escaped my rosy lips.
“Maybe you should check up the shower room on the male barracks, that guy, without doubt, takes too many showers” The tall cadet was being more helpful than my actual partner with no second thoughts.
I thanked him and kept going with my research. It was already eight and a half when I finished checking up on the common areas and Levi was not where to be seen. I didn’t want to go to the male barracks, not just because it’s forbidden for women but because it’s so damn uncomfortable, but did I have another choice?
“(Y / N)! There you are, the little lady of the scouts~ “I could recognize that singly voice anywhere, Hange was calling me from behind.
“Squad leader Hange, good morning!” I turned around, stood firm and saluted. Hange may be a bit weird?. . well, she prefers to be called eccentric; however, she was still a squad leader.
“Ow drop the formalities (Y / N), we are good friends there is no need to be so strict,” The brunette said with a big smile on her face, like she always did “Anyways, shouldn't you be with Levi?”
‘Speak of the devil’ Of course I should have been with him if he was somewhere to be found. However, Hange is the only one who used to talk or at least tried to keep up a conversation with Levi. So maybe and only maybe, she had some tips for me while dealing with Mr Grumpy.
“I actually should, sir. But I can’t find him, have you seen him yet?” I wondered trying to sound the least annoyed that I could.
“So weird, I saw Levi picking up his orders this morning. He must be somewhere” Hange raised her hand and touched her chin while thinking “But if I were you, I would not make him wait. He doesn’t like people making him wait.”
‘He doesn’t like anything if you ask me,’ I thought to myself while remembering Nanaba’s words. If he’d already picked up his orders then he had to know that we were supposed to be doing all this together. I said goodbye to Hange and kept on my way.
If the female barracks were usually a mess, I can’t describe the state that the male ones were in. Resigned I knocked on the door of the shower room and a barely dressed guy opened it. A towel around his lower middle section and bare chest. I tried to look the other way while I felt my cheeks burning, ‘I’m going to make you pay for this one, you shorty!’ The male recruit was leaning on the door frame and took a good look at me.
“Well?” He asked roughly.
“O-oh, y-yes” My stuttered words gave me away from my embarrassment “I’m looking for Levi?”
He turned around and did a clear “task” before shouting.
“Hey Levi, there is a hot chick looking for you here!”
I didn’t know what was more humiliating, the fact that I was “a hot chick” or that it looked like I had something going on with the not yet Captain. I could hear how the rest of the men inside the room were laughing.
No one replied, silent. I didn’t dare to take a look inside to see the recruits facial expression but could guess that they were waiting for a reply too.
“Well, it looks like that shorty is not here but if you are looking for a good time, I’m at your service m’lady” His failed attempt to sound from the capital with the last reference to my person made me roll my (E / C) eyes.
“No, thank you” I slammed the door on his face and walked away.
‘Not in the mess hall, not in the common areas, not in the showers, then where the hell is he?! It’s 9 am already! We lost almost all the morning. My train of thoughts couldn’t stop, once again I wished this morning had never started from the beginning. A loud sighed and asking Levi’s room to one of the cadets walking there were my following actions. ‘Last room to the right, he said that, didn’t he?’ Repeating in my mind so I didn’t forget. If only I had known that I would sneak into that room to do activities far from training so many times.
Once again, I knocked and waited for someone to answer but this time it was different. Another recruit answered but as soon as I could take a sneak peek inside the shared bedroom, I saw him, sat down on his bed reading. I didn’t wait to be allowed inside, I just walked towards him.
“Excuse me? Can you explain to me what you are doing here?” I questioned with an angry tone; I was not in my best mood.
But my intentions of sounding imposing failed terribly when Levi raised his glance from his book to meet my (E / C) eyes. I gulped nervously, Levi’s deep and sharp grey eyes were like cutting my soul.
“What the fuck are you doing here shitty brat?” Levi’s deep voice resounded while the people in the room turned around to see what was going on.
‘Think quick, don’t let him get you’
“I wouldn’t be here if you were in the mess hall like the rest who started to do their chores” I answered back not trying to stay behind in this conversation.
“Huh? What did you say just now?” He closed his book and got up from his bed. Walking towards me, Levi was trying to scare me for sure. The problem was that even a few inches above me were making him look so powerful and intimidating.
“That’s rubbish! You heard me! You should have been there!”
“Heard me out well-raised rich shit. I was there on time; you were the scum lazy ass who didn’t show up”
“I was there from quarter to seven, breakfast time is between six to seven. I was on time! on the other hand, you were missing”
“I’m not your freaking servant, spoiled brat. I was there until quarter past six, next time show up earlier”
“Who cares at what time I arrived at the mess hall! You should have waited for me; we lost so much time!”
“What a pain in the ass you are, I already did my part so you can go out of my freaking room. Last fucking time you show up here, rich bastard.
“This is supposed to be teamwork, Levi. You can’t just go out and do “your part”. Anyways, what part is that meant to be?”
“I can’t solve your shitty life, go on and check the stuff I already fucking did, because I did wake up on time. Maybe if you wouldn’t have spent that much time trying to look decent for showing off, you wouldn’t have missed me”
That hurt me, like hell I was going to let him tell me what I should or shouldn’t do with my time.
“Well at least I can show off, you can go out to the shops and buy the most expensive shitty cloths and still look like a dirty rat from that trash heap”
That actually offended him because he grabbed the collar of my shirt and raised me. I had never been in an actual fight before so I closed my eyes expecting him to hit me.
“What the hell is going on here! Women aren’t allowed and I thought I left that crystal clear! Levi, put that freaking girl down and (Y / N), leave immediately before I talk to your superior” The clear voice of a head-up stopped Levi’s actions.
The rest of the cadets that were watching suddenly stood up firmly and greeted the superior. Once I got my feet back on earth, I made my way out without trying to grab more attention myself.
Needless to say, I did the rest of the work on my own that morning. I didn’t dare to try to talk to him again. Mainly because I didn’t want to turn out all bruised, ‘I want to keep my head stuck to my body, thank you’. The truth to be told was that it was true that Levi had done a big part of the job, but the question was when? I didn’t even see a single dark lock from his head around the campus that morning. While I was feeding the horses, I remembered Will’s words so another question popped up in my head ‘When the hell does that demon wake up if he got all the chores done?’
After I finished my duties, I went for my lunch. The only thing my mind seemed to be focusing on was how I was going to make this team work. ‘I was a little bit bitchy with him, I let him get the best of me’ I reproached myself thinking of how that morning went. ‘There is no point in crying over spilt milk, we still have the afternoon training to make things up. If there is someone out there who can make this work is me, don’t let him get you. My speech for cheering myself up gave me some kind of courage to face my next activities with more optimism.
Nevertheless, keeping up my high hopes was almost an impossible mission when I arrived at the mess hall and everybody was looking over me. As usual, I picked up my tray and walked towards my friends.
“Why is everybody staring at me?” I questioned once I sat down and tasted the first mouthful of that tasteless soup that they gave us.
“Well well well, look who we have here? They say that there is a thin line between love and hate but I never expect you to jump that line the first morning that you were paired with that jerk” Nanaba was having tons of fun saying that, while on the other hand, Petra seemed quite angry with me.
My surprise was hard to express when my confused and shocked face was all I could manage to show. The piece of meal that was on my spoon fell back to the dish while I was trying to collect my thoughts.
“Excuse me?” It’s all that I managed to let out.
“Come on, don't be so surprised! You know better than anyone that words travel fast here” The tall blond girl explained like it was the most obvious answer she could have ever given me. Then she proceeded to notice that I was still very much lost in the conversation” Everybody is talking of how you went to meet him in his room and that his face was inches away from yours before one of the high-ups interrupted.
I closed my (E / C) eyes and tried to process the bunch of nonsense that this was. I rested my head on my left hand and my (H / C) hair covered my face. I will always be surprised by how much the information can be twisted in a couple of hours.
“That is not even close to what happened. He was nowhere to be found so I was looking for him and turned out of us picking up a fight in his room” I explained the summary of the events.
I didn’t want people to think I was sleeping with that guy. ‘Who could say that I was about to kiss him. Never like ever something could go on between the two of us, we can barely coexist’ Well, you know what they say, never say never.
“(Y / N), how could you do that to Petra? You knew how much she likes him” At that moment, I knew she was making fun of me. Nanaba could barely contain the laugh while drinking her water.
However, the main problem was that Petra actually looked upset. She was right in front of me, sitting down on the other side of the table. I reached my right hand out and placed it over her arm.
“Petra, I would never like to ever do such a thing like steal someone else's boyfriend or crush. So, you don’t have to worry about me. Even more, when I get the chance, I will try to find out what he thinks of you”
Apparently, that made her feel better, I remember her smile, her innocent golden eyes shining full of admiration towards me. I know that there is no excuse for what I did, but back then my words were honest. I never had the intention of taking him away from her, it just happened. If only I knew back then what I know now.
Hello! how are you? I think this chapter was so hard to write down, I had so much things that I wanted to write but I didn't even managed to get half of what I wanted >-< So I decided to change the schedule. __I decided to give like a specific kind of accent to the reader, more like a fashion, fancy and elegant way of talking. Considering that education shouldn't had been a really common thing inside the walls, I think if you are from a upper class family it would be easy to spot out. Imagine like the entire people from Sina's wall talk more on less in this way, like something specific from there, like Sasha's accent during that chapter from season 2. I think the easiest way of explain it is like someone hears you talk and says "ok, I'm guessing she is from Sina. Only rich people from there talk like that"
Anyways~~ I hope you enjoy this chapter. If you did, thanks for reading this far. If you would like to leave a comment, follow or like I would be really pleased and happy. I hope you have a beautiful day! _XOXO
Kiss me like the breeze
@flashfictionfridayofficial - This Friday’s entry is a bit different. It’s the first time I attempt something like this! I’m sure you can find out what I’m talking about.
Words: 1,195, sorry for going over the limit :(
Happy Pride Month, everybody! Stay safe and stay true.
I couldn’t find my gun. My room was full of all the junk I had collected these few days, while thrifting in the shops of the old trade district. Vinyl records of the best albums of the last century, clothes in all the colors of the spectrum, which I haven’t worn more than once. Also bottles, cans, bags of chips and all kinds of containers for junk food, along with an endless display of paintbrushes and filled up canvases. And nowhere inside this mess could I see my gun. Which is strange, because it’s a rainbow gun and almost every kid has one of them these days. After the great digital collapse, the world fell into decline and now we need rainbow guns in order to stay safe. If we spot danger, we’re allowed to shoot - it instantly changes the intention of the doer, making it good instead of bad. I guess it works, although you can obviously misuse it, like for example my classmate Sarah, who shot a boy named Mike in the knee, so he can fall in love with her. Then she dumped him, but he shot back with his own gun. It never ends.
“Oh my god, your room is a war zone! What the hell is going on in here?”
That’s my brother, Maximilian, named after a Roman emperor. Father sure loves history.
“Shut up, Max. I can’t find my rainbow blower. You know we’re not allowed to leave without it.” I said, while totally rampaging through my wardrobe.
Max stepped inside and looked around. I can’t tell you what went through his head, but let’s say that him feeling like I’m the king Solomon of trash is probably an understatement.
“You dummy, he laughed, it’s right there!” he pointed at my stuffed animal corner.
For some reason, I had left it right next to the teddy bear I won from a carnival outside of town. I remember having to use a real gun to shoot bottle caps. They told me that used to be quite popular back then. Anyway, I grabbed it and took a good look at it. You see, my gun is a bit different. I’ve modified it, thanks to my buddy Stoop, one of the best inventors of my generation. Instead of blowing out the typical rainbow, it instead projects a beam of black and white. It doesn’t only change the intention of the person, but also makes him see that he is capable of both black and white feelings. I read something about Taoism, an ancient, at this point, religion, in an old book I found in the old trade district. It spoke about accepting both good and bad, and it had this strange circular symbol on the front cover. I called Stoop and the rest was history. We even made a stencil of the symbol and spray painted it on my gun.
I got on top of my hoverboard and went straight to the skate park. I had to meet with Melanie, another of my classmates, with whom we were working on the school news team. Those flying screens that every classroom has, which have an announcer on them - that’s us. We rotate by the hour, but it was Saturday then, so we just wanted to hover around the park and drink some Loca Cola.
“Hey Mel! Those are really cool shoes! I like the blue on them!”
“Thanks, I got them from a nice little shop on Loop Street. They told me that at this point they’re retro, and I bought them on the spot.”
Melanie was always a retro chick, always digging for the oldest trends, trying to recreate them. She told me she found more peace and quiet while learning about the old world, back when life wasn’t this absurd.
“Guess who’s here to see you, by the way!” Melanie said.
I had a feeling this wouldn’t go down well, I thought of a particular somebody who I didn’t want to see at all. Sure enough, it was the very same person. Ana, from the radio department at school. She’s been hitting on me for the past few months. Every time I see her she keeps talking about what she’s read and how the world is ruled by some mystical force or something. She’s trying to sell me her view points while crushing on me. Talk about being rude. I mean it’s not like I hate her, but she just...seems strange. She’s not like the rest, she doesn’t fit in and that’s creeping me out. She sounds more like a character from the old novels or movies, rather than a true citizen of the new world.
“Hey! Cool symbol! Do you know how it’s called? I can tell you.”
Ana. Standing on my right, with her oversized sweater saying “Lakers” in purple. God knows how old that thing is. She was smiling and looking at me, I could feel the exhilaration in her.
“No, not really. I don’t care though, it’s just for looks anyway.” I said, trying to make her to leave.
She giggled and squatted in front of me, putting her hands on my bare knees. Her sleeves were covering them.
“It’s called the Yin & Yang, people believed it represents the balance in the world.” she said, piercing my eyes with her gaze. She continued:
“You know, I don’t know why you avoid me. All this time I wanted to tell you that you don’t need a gun. None of us does. It’s a trap.”
I was taken aback and held my rainbow blower firmly. I was ready to defend myself in case she tried something drastic. I could feel that she was pushing it a bit too far.
“Listen to me, these rainbow guns we all have, they’re all lies. We don’t need to change people’s intentions, we need to change our own. I can show you, give me a hug.” Ana tried wrapping her arms around me.
I pulled the trigger. A black and white beam hit her chest, and as soon as I shot her, a red beam of energy started flowing from her heart towards my chest. I could feel my body being lifted up, along with hers. Soon I lost all my senses, I didn’t know what’s going on. The point where the two beams collided emitted a white flash of light. Then a black one. Then all the colors of the rainbow followed, and its intensity kept increasing. And then...
I opened my eyes. In front of me was Ana, my girlfriend. We were on the beach, next to us was my copy of “It” by Stephen King. I remembered just then that it had come out a few years ago. The breeze was light, her hair was gently touching my shoulders. A small motorbike passed on the old road below the houses.
“Whoa, that was a long kiss, Chloe. Are you alright?” Ana asked, her dark brown eyes reminding me of grandpa’s fireplace.
I was not alright. I was perfect. A ship was sailing in the distance, and as the sun kept going down, we kissed once more.
i’ll help you // part one
pairing: michael weiss (chris evans in puncture, 2011) x reader
themes: drug use, angst, romance
word count: 2k
summary: you work as an intern in mike’s law firm, and despite his chaotic lifestyle consisting of a rather severe drug addiction and dependence on sex to feel less lonely, you fell for him since the day you met him. now that he’s shown up at your doorstep one night, it almost seems like a dream come true, but you know you have to go about this carefully. you desperately want to be his, but can you do that knowing that for him, his other addictions may always come first?
note: this will most likely only have two parts for the time being! let me know if you’d like to be tagged in part deux! ;)
A light sigh escaped your lips as you arose from the couch, rubbing your eyes as you glanced at the time on your phone. 9:23 PM? “Jesus,” you muttered under your breath, wondering when the hell you had gotten so old to be this tired at such an early hour. Then again, being an intern at Weiss & Danziger could get quite exhausting, especially with a boss like Michael Weiss. You would never dream of quitting, however-- it had been your dream since you were in high school to become a lawyer, and this internship was perfect for gaining necessary experience for law school now that you had just graduated from college.
That, and you may have had a slight crush on one of your coworkers. That was, Michael Weiss, to be exact.
You hated yourself for it. Not even because he was your boss, no-- that, you could get past. It was his lifestyle that had you wondering why you couldn’t snap yourself out of these feelings-- a cocky lawyer who lacked responsibility more often than not due to having an incessant drug problem? Yes, that was definitely someone you wanted to take back home to your parents one day. However, you also knew that issues like his did not simply start from nowhere. As much as you wanted to frown upon the choices Mike made, you had realized early on that these choices came from a place of hurting. Whether it was internal or due to some outside traumatic experience, you had no idea, and you could not assume. Even as understanding as you were, there were times you would get frustrated with the lawyer. Some days he was late to meetings with clients, some days he did not show up at all. There were occasions where his phone would be turned off for days, and you remembered when you had shown up to his own house to pass on important files on one of these days, you were greeted at the door by a half naked woman with bloodshot eyes and a blunt in her hand.
But then there were the days you saw him sitting at his desk, his incredibly messy desk at the law firm, intense blue eyes studying papers before him while simultaneously speaking on the phone with whomever he could find to dig more information out of. There were days you even saw him in court, dressed up in a suit and speaking confidently to the judge, his passion and intelligence practically shining through each and every one of his mannerisms--
-- despite the fact that you also knew he had snorted a few lines mere hours before, if not even sooner.
How he was able to perform so well while being so high, you had no idea, but it was not exactly something you wanted to feel impressed by.
Trying to forget about it, you yawned as you stepped over to the TV, ready to turn it off and head for bed when you heard the doorbell of your apartment ring. You blinked and glanced down at the somewhat skimpy black nightie you were wearing; you supposed it was probably just your neighbor, since she tended to come over some nights to hang out and chat for a little bit because you were close in age, and so you came over to the door and opened it. “Ava I’m too ti-” you started to decline already, but immediately froze when you saw the male standing there, wearing his signature button-down shirt and suspenders look. “Mike…?” you finally addressed, looking at him confused before realizing what you were wearing, quickly clearing your throat and turning around to find your oversized hoodie you had lazily tossed onto the couch earlier. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
He let himself in, blue hues scanning your body briefly but shamelessly before raising an eyebrow as he closed the door behind him. “I didn’t see you today.” You rolled your eyes as you pulled the sweatshirt on, turning around to look at him arching your own brow. “You didn’t come in today.” Frowning slightly, you noticed the hint of white under his nostril, resisting the urge to roll your eyes again. Going over to the dining table and taking a napkin, you came back and handed it to him, looking entirely unamused. “For the blow you left under your nose.” You spoke bluntly-- yes, he was your boss, but for some reason, you had always had a more comfortably outspoken relationship with him. Perhaps because he was so direct and straightforward himself-- he never seemed to be fazed by your more sassy side, anyways.
He took it and wiped at it as he kept his eyes on you, clearly not embarrassed or ashamed in the least. “Did you drive here?” you asked him, sighing before even waiting for an answer-- of course he must have, you swore this man had no appreciation for his own life sometimes. “Just-- you can sleep here, alright? On the couch. But I’m going to bed.”
As you turned around, you felt a hand grab your wrist, making you widen your eyes slightly. “No.” He stated, his eyes now on your back oddly troubled yet insistent at the same time. “I’m sleeping with you. In your bed. I want to be next to you.” He nonchalantly walked past you, but briefly tugged on the sleeve of your hoodie as he did so, adding, “And take this shit off.”
You watched incredulously as he opened the few doors of your apartment before finding your bedroom, only looking on in even more disbelief as he let himself inside as if he had lived there his entire life. “Mike!” you hissed, following after him hoping the blush on your cheeks after his last demand wasn’t showing. “How high are you? You can’t just….” you trailed off, watching as he now started undressing himself, still looking rather confidently nonchalant with his decision. He glanced over at you, noticing you staring but simply nodded towards your hoodie expectantly. “Off. Now. It’s hot as fuck, and considering what you opened the door in, I don’t think you wear that shit to bed.”
“I-it’s fine, I get cold at night so--” you started to reply, now practically feeling the heat on your Ycheeks as you wondered why you were even starting to comply to this conversation let alone his determination to sleep over, when he suddenly came over to you himself in nothing but his suspenders and pants, grabbing the hoodie and lifting it off your head. “Then I’ll fuckin’ warm you up, don’t worry about it.” He replied as you could only stare at him with your mouth open, your eyes taking in his perfect abs as his eyes once again scanned your body up and down, before he simply turned back around and continued to strip until he was left in just his boxer briefs.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he spoke, even though his back was turned to you, “I usually sleep in the nude so I’d say I’m being pretty damn conservative here.” He glanced towards you and the corner of his lips barely tugged upwards, some sense of emotion finally displayed on his handsome features for the first time before he invited himself right into your bed, pulling back the blankets and settling in underneath. You still stared at him in shock as he lay on his back and closed his eyes, standing there for a few seconds until his deep voice sounded, “Well? Turn off the lights and get in here already. I didn’t come here for just the bed, I have one of these at my house, too, you know.”
You found yourself immediately obeying for a reason you still were completely unsure of, deciding to blame it on your brain rather than yourself. Those were two separate entities, right…? Getting into the bed carefully after turning the lights off, you stuck to your side, inhaling deeply. “Okay, fine, you can stay here, just-- I’m sleeping now, okay? I’m tired.” You were expecting him to argue, but to your surprise, there was complete silence. You tried to glance up at him discreetly, even though you knew the darkness in the room would protect you for now, and you could barely make out by the shape of his long eyelashes that his eyes were still closed.
Were you feeling… disappointed?
You quickly turned around to face the wall and shut your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart. ‘It’s fine, just go to sleep. He’s only here because he’s high, he’ll probably be gone before you even wake up.’ You thought to yourself, but there was no denying such a prospect felt rather depressing than reassuring.
And then the silence was interrupted, a husky voice suddenly speaking. “You know,” he began, your eyes immediately opening as you kept an unnecessarily intense focus on the wall, biting on your lower lip. “It’s really fucking annoying working with you.” You blinked but tried to hold back the feelings of hurt, knowing the world of law could get much more intense than this-- you needed to learn how to be more steady and indifferent than sensitive. And so you barely cleared your throat, still looking to the wall as you replied as maturely as you could, “Annoying..? Why? What do I do?”
“You distract me. Even when I’m sitting in my goddamn office with the door shut, the door locked-- I’m just fucking thinking about you.” You swore you forgot to breathe upon hearing this, your heart pounding even faster once you remembered soon after that breathing was, in fact, important. You turned somewhat cautious, on your back now to look up at him, your eyes slightly more adjusted to the dark now and seeing that he appeared to be looking up at the ceiling. You wanted more than anything to ask him more, to find out if your own feelings were requited, and you even contemplated doing so.
But you held your tongue, knowing that was too dangerous of a path to go down. “Then one of us can work from home.” You replied bluntly instead, turning back to face the wall, hoping your voice sounded steadier than your heart rate. However, you soon felt a shifting in the bed followed by a toned arm wrap around your body, pulling you back. You were now face-to-face with the man, his eyes piercing into yours, the blue somehow radioactive in the darkness that surrounded you. “I don’t want that. I want to see you everyday. Fuck, I want to have you.” There was no steadying your heartbeat now, the mere words making you feel a strange sense of delight and uncertainty at the same time-- but you barely had time to process these feelings before his lips were suddenly pressed against yours, his kiss naturally rough and filled with passion you weren’t even sure that could be possible to fake. You kissed him back, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace, to feel his tongue make its entrance into your wet cavern to wrap around your own, to let his teeth barely tug on your lower lip, his large hands slide down your back--
-- and then reality came crashing down into the euphoria of it all, immediately making you pull away.
“Mike,” you whispered, looking up into his eyes somewhat sadly, “I can’t.”
He blinked, his hands pausing, clearly annoyed and confused as he looked down at you. “Why the fuck not?”
You sat up and ran your hand through your hair, looking away frustrated. “Because I fucking love you, okay? I- I’ve had feelings for you ever since I started working at the firm, and it just- god, it just fucking kills seeing the shit you do everyday. You realize there are days I don’t even know if you’re alive, right? Any time your phone is off for more than a few hours, I’m worried that you could be lying dead in a fucking ditch somewhere. And then I find that you’re just in bed with some drugged out whore who only uses you for drug money and it’s just--” you sighed, pausing for a few moments realizing you were practically running out of breath, looking away as you forced yourself to hold back the tears threatening to spill before continuing, “-- it’s just fucking exhausting.”
Quite honestly, you half expected him to have fallen asleep in the middle of your rant, but as you looked back towards him, you saw that he was sitting up himself, staring down at you somewhat surprised. “Then why do you still have feelings for me?” he asked lowly, a hint of curiosity in his deep blue hues, something you would probably stare at if you weren’t so incredulous over his ignorant question. “Are you serious, Mike? It’s not like I can just control this, otherwise I’d have chosen to, I don’t know, have feelings for someone who’s not a fucking crackhead.”
Were you too harsh? You regretted saying it the instant it came out, wondering if he’d explode-- but instead, he leaned closer, only looking at you with more intrigue. “What do you see in me, then?” he was practically murmuring now, and you bit your lip, figuring you might as well continue the honesty considering you had already boarded the entire goddamn train of it. “I see someone who’s passionate. More intelligent than anyone I’ve ever met before. Someone who wants to help people, not for his own personal gain or satisfaction, but because he cares.” You whispered back, looking up at him wishing you knew what he was thinking in that exact moment. He seemed to be listening intently, his eyes focused on yours yet distant at the same time as he pondered this over, before his teeth found his own lower lip. “What if I told you I’m only who I am because I’m never sober? That I only succeed in this line of work because of the drugs?” You blinked, finding the question quite preposterous, but now realizing that his damaged mind must have truly thought this.
Your heart hurt for him, and you realized you could not be angry anymore.
“Then you’re in the wrong line of work, Mike,” you spoke softly, slowly reaching up to caress the side of his face, biting your lip as you looked up into his eyes. “But I know you’re not. I know you’re so much more than what all the coke makes you think you are, okay? Just-- I…” you trailed off before slowly continuing, “...I can prove it to you if you would let me help you…”
He looked down at you, his expression significantly softer now; it was the first time you saw even a hint of vulnerability in his features, and it was turning your brain into a pile of mush. “I want you to help me,” he muttered lowly as if in a trance, his hand now tilting your chin upwards to keep the eye contact. “Just you, baby. Please.”
You had to pause to wonder if he was only saying this to play with your emotions; after all, he was in the perfect position to, and it was not something you could rule out considering that he was a lawyer at heart, meaning he knew exactly how to talk. Still, as you studied his facial expression, you could see the pain in those azure orbs-- he was taking as much of a risk here as you were, and you were beginning to realize that even if he were to hurt you in the end, you’d sacrifice your heart to make him feel at least a little bit better about himself and his passion.
“I’ll help you, Mike.” You spoke softly, letting your fingers run through his hair, fully accepting the risk that it could practically kill you in the end, but this was what your intuition was telling you to do. “You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”
He slowly pulled you down with him to lay on the bed together, his strong arms wrapping around you. You felt his lips kiss the top of your head before his own simply rested on it, your face nuzzled comfortably into his bare chest. The more wary part of you couldn’t help but wonder if all of this was set up to simply make another move on you, but you soon realized his breathing becoming much more even, his body slowly settling into a content slumber.
You were not disappointed anymore. Instead, a soft smile crossed your lips as your own heartbeat finally calmed down, exhaling deeply as you let yourself fall asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Burning Fears = Byler
Self harm warning, please read with care.
In which Will hates the cold, but Mike has enough heat for the both of them.
Will hates the cold.
No, he despises the cold.
No, he- fuck - he can't even think of a word that comes close to how much he dislikes the cold.
It's not just the weather- Will has never liked winter - but also the cold feeling that is hidden in his body. His heart feels frozen, his gut feels frozen, his mind - god, he can't think properly with the horrid gust blowing around in his head. The lingering feeling of the mind flayer crosses his mind more regularly than he likes and it is at that point when he can't fucking stand the cold.
So, he finds, there's only one solution to not being cold.
Will always where's at least two layers. A shirt and a jumper on top. The pullovers are usually Johnathan's old ones, but the boy doesn't mind, he feels hidden underneath- safe. Even in summer, if he doesn't wear a jumper it's usually only because he doesn't want any weird stares directed towards him. So he wears shirts.
One layer upon an another. Will has always been skinny, so nobody notices the slight thickness of clothing around his arms.
It's never enough. No matter what, he still feels cold. Even if Hawkins is having a major heat wave, he always has the coldness lingering in his chest - despite his friends' constant complaining of the weather. So he pulls his long sleeves so they cover his pale hands and keeps quiet.
It's around Halloween when he hates the cold the most. This is because it's always around Halloween when he gets his nightmares. Sure, he may get the odd one during the rest of the year, but Halloween. It makes the boy queasy just thinking about the holiday.
And it upsets him.
Halloween used to be his favourite holiday.
Now though, the monsters come back during the end of October. Maybe not physically, but Will still feels the same amount of distress. And on many occasions, he shoots up in the middle of the night sweating violently but feeling colder than ever.
Will decides that wearing 5 layers just isn't enough.
It's time to take it to the next level.
Joyce frowns at the sheets of data in front of her. The bills had just come in that morning , and now she was studying them about an hour later. She sighs and rubs her eyes with one hand, a yawn escaping her lips. It's too early in the morning for this.
Johnathan sits on the wooden table opposite her, a plate of eggs in front of him. Will is standing next to the toaster, two breads heating inside. The oldest son glances at his mother's obvious distress and decides to question what is ruining her morning.
"You ok, mom?" He asks, agitated. The older lady lifts her head from her hands and offers the boy a small smile.
"Just the bills."
Johnathan frowns. Bills have never been a pleasant topic. "What's wrong?"
Joyce hands him the slightly crumpled paper. She sighs lowly, "They're higher than normal."
The older Byers boy studies the paper, whilst the other boy in the kitchen butters his toast. Will's ear quirk up slightly, trying to catch his mom and brother's quiet conversation. Johnathan has a frown etched on his face, as he places down the data.
"Energy bills. It's the heating?"
Joyce hums and glances between her two sons. "It's going to be harder paying these off. Let's get the bills back to normal next month, ok?" She looks at Will, whose face is slightly flushed, and worry crosses her mind. However, before she can say anything, Will tells them he has homework to do and leaves the kitchen, his half eaten toast forgotten.
Joyce can't remember the last time Will was in such a rush to do homework.
It's Monday afternoon. Will has just returned home from school. He is relieved to be greeted by an empty house. His mom and brother are both at work so Will is free to do whatever he wants.
Or whatever he needs to do.
He decides to take a bath.
After placing his blue backpack on his bed, Will makes his way to the small bathroom. The family have a regular sized bath in a small bathroom. They can't afford a shower, but that wouldn't work for Will anyway.
The boy turns the hot tap on the bath and puts in the plug to stop the water draining. The cold tap is left, forgotten.
As the bath fills, Will makes his way to the kitchen and boils the kettle, which is full. He feels bad. He knows that he's the reason the bills have increased. But he needs this. It's the only want he feels safe.
He rushes to the almost filled bath. It steams dangerously but Will ignores it and pours the newly boiled water in. Once he is content with the temperature, he strips from his clothes and climbs in.
It used to be hot. Too hot. But he is used to it now. In fact, he enjoys the burning sensation it has against again his skin. He leans back and closes his eyes.
He stays inside until the water is lukewarm.
His skin is red, and itchy. It hurts underneath his raw nails as they scratch away at his body all through school. He's had another bath, a quick one on Thursday morning, but this time has not got the same affect as the others. He doesn't feel cold. He feels like he's burning.
The mind flayer isn't in his head- not right now- but it'll be back. Now, his mind focuses on the developing rashes under his shirt.
It annoys him the whole day. He twitches and rubs a hand over his chest through all his layers of clothing. He gets looks - odd ones from strangers, worried ones from his friends.
When Mike asks him if he's alright, Will responds that he is. He can't think of good excuse for his scratching.
Hesitantly, Mike lets it pass.
A month later and Will is laying in his bed at 2 pm on a Tuesday. It's a school day but he tells his mother that he's unwell. Joyce offers to stay at home but Will assures her that he'll be fine.
Tears roll down his cheeks as he stares up at his ceiling. He's crying because he's cold. Fuck- he's so cold. But he's sweating. Underneath two layers and a big blanket, his skin is red and raw. He's had 4 more baths.
No where near as many as he should have. But the bills have been higher than usual and Will feels guilty.
He shouldn't use so much heat and water.
So he thinks of another solution.
He needs something hot. Fire is hot.
He decided he needs to make a trip to the kitchen.
The first time he does it, he cries. He cries because it hurts. The fire from the cooker is scorching and out of instinct he retracts his arm.
But his mind tells him to go on. To do it again. So he goes back in, keeping his arm for a little longer. Tears stream down his face but he ignores them.
When he is done, he rinses his bubbling skin under the tap. It feels like agony, but the mind flayer has gone, so it was worth it.
The next time the bills come around, they are back to normal. Joyce is pleased.
And so is Will, his bandaged arms hidden underneath his long sleeves.
Mike wants to hang out with him. Will is surprised at first, but of course he never passes an opportunity to hang out with his best friend.
Besides Will feels guilty, he keeps pushing Mike away.
They watch a film- another Star Wars that they have watched countless times. Will is happy that he's with Mike. The last few months have been stressful (the weather is only getting colder) so Will is pleased he can lay back for a bit.
The two boys head upstairs to Will's room. Will let's Mike change in the bathroom, and then undresses himself with the door firmly shut.
He tries to change as quickly as possible, but it's too late.
Mike sees his harsh burns; he accidentally walked in, without knocking.
Mike stares at the other boy, his eyes as wide as saucers. The peeling skin stands harshly against Will's snow-white chest and arms, and he feels as if he might faint.
(Will visits the kitchen more times than he draws)
Mike was ready to apologise but the burns on Will leave the words forgotten. Will shys away from him, his face flustered, and quickly pulls down his first layer of clothing. He's about to grab a jumper when Mike stops him.
"Will... y-your skin!" He shouts. Will hastily shushes him.
"My mom's asleep, stop shouting!"
Mike begins to cry at the sight of Will and his best friend stares at him shocked. He tries to calm down the ravenet but has no such look. He does manage to make him sit on the bed.
"Why... why?" Mike whimpers into his shaking hands. Will has to lean closer in order to hear him. "Why is your skin burnt? What happened?"
Will stares at him not knowing what to say.
"Did someone do this to you?" Mike sobs, "I swear to god I'll kill them-"
Will interrupts him, confused, "Do this to me? No, no Mike. Nobody did this to me!"
Mike raises his head. "Then why...?"
Will drops his head in shame, his eyes welling up. He didn't want anyone to worry about him. "The mind flayer." He whispers.
Mike shoots up so fast that Will is surprised he doesn't get whiplash. "The mind flayer! Is it back?" He asks urgently.
Will shakes his head. "No... he's just in my head." He begins to cry, his words escape his mouth before he can stop them. "I hate it Mike! It feels like he's always here in my mind, and I can't get him out. And I feel so cold all the time. I c-can't..."
He sobs into his knees and Mike lowers back on the bed, next to him. Carefully, he wraps his shaky arms around the smaller boy and holds him close.
Will did this to himself to get rid of the mind flayer.
Mike feels such hatred; he's wouldn't be surprised if steam is coming out of his ears.
"Will." He speaks urgently once his friend has calmed down. "We need to tell your mom."
At this, Will's head shoots up. "No! We can't!"
Mike sighs, defeated, "Will, please. This is so dangerous. Your skin..."
"Mike, I'll get better. I won't do it again, promise." Will says, looking into his best friend's eyes.
Mike cries into the other boy, because he feels like such an awful friend. "How long?" He whimpers.
Will doesn't want to tell him, but he's already kept to much away from Mike. "5 months." He whispers.
Mike can't stop crying. And in the morning when Joyce asks him about his puffy eyes, he lies and tells her he had a bad dream.
Will breaks his promise. Actually, he broke it about a week ago.
He feels pathetic because he lied to Mike. He couldn't even last 2 weeks.
At school, he manages to stay away from Mike, who stays much closer to him now. He can feel the guilt eating him up inside, so he keeps his distance.
He has gym today. He wants to skip it, so he forges a note. Although he fooled the teacher, he can't fool Mike.
At the end of the day, Mike corners him in the car park. He leans forward with worried eyes. "You did it again." He whimpers.
Will can't bring himself to lie to Mike, so he nods.
Will is seething. He going to kill Mike. His mom had just come into his room with Johnathan, sobbing into her hands.
Will can't believe his best friend betrayed him.
He cries as he confronts Mike. Most of the tears come from his rage, but some come from the pain he feels when he moves his arms.
He tells Mike that what he does is none of his business.
He tells Mike that he trusted him not to say anything.
He tells Mike that if he was really Will's friend, he'd leave him alone.
Mike steps closer to him, face red with anger. "You're hurting yourself! I had to tell someone."
Will shakes his head, "If I wanted help, I'd tell someone myself. I'm not hurting myself, I'm hurting the mind flayer-"
"The mind flayer is gone Will!" He stops Will from interrupting him. "It's your PTSD. You think it's there, but it's not. You're hurting yourself because of it!"
Will stares, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I don't want it to come back." He sobs. Mike's anger vanishes instantly and he puts an arm around his best friend.
"It's gone Will." He whispers in his hair. "It's not coming back." He lets Will cry in his arms. "You need help."
"You do. You need to get better." Mike pushes.
"I'm broken, Mike," Will whimpers pathetically. "I won't get better."
"You will. I'll make sure of it."
Will lifts his wrist and wipes at his nose with his sleeve. "You'll give up when you realise I'm unfixable."
Mike shakes his head firmly. "I'll be with you every step of the way."
2 years later
Will stares at himself in his bathroom mirror. His shirt is off and all he can see is the glaring burns he punished himself with 2 years ago. They are old, and Will has managed not to burn himself for 9 months now.
Mike is with him in the bathroom. He is bent down slightly, lightly applying some soothing cream onto each scar. The cream is from Dr Owens, Will's therapist.
Will hates what he sees in the mirror. He did this to himself. He tried to get rid of the mind flayer. A monster which wasn't there in the first place. He silently cries because of his stupidity, because this is what it resulted in.
He had agreed to get help and now he can finally see what he did to himself.
Mike looks up when he hears Will's soft sniffling. His eyes ask a silent question, are you ok?
Will doesn't look at Mike, he wills for the tears to stop. Mike carries on looking at him, so Will decides to speak. "These are never going to go away, are they?" He asks, waving a hand sadly towards his chest. Mike can hear the pain in his voice and stands up quietly.
He looks at Will, into his hazel orbs, and kisses him.
It's nothing new, they've kissed before. During the last two years, they had figured out their feelings. Mike isn't just kissing Will Byers- he's kissing Will Byers, his boyfriend.
This kiss is different though. It's slow and gentle, instead of sweet and kind. It's holds promises for the future, instead of trying to hold together the present. It's safe and familiar instead of filled with sparks. They don't talk but the silence speaks a hundred words.
Mike pulls away but keeps the other boy close. He pulls him in for an embrace, kisses his temple, breathes in his hair. He draws random shapes into his bare shoulder. This is his best friend, his boyfriend, his soulmate.
He hates seeing him upset.
He digs his nose into the shorter boy's brown hair. "I'll still love you."
Will cries silently, "I'm a freak."
Mike disagrees. "You're you." He whispers, "I'll be with you forever even if you turn into the demogorgon."
Will chokes down a giggle, "I think that's impossible."
"I used to think it was impossible to love a person so much. Anything can happen!" He pulls back slightly and smiles at his boyfriend. "I'll be with forever ok? No matter what."
Will shakes his head. "You're crazy."
"Yeah," Mike agrees, "but crazy together, right?"
"Yeah, crazy together."
What if Billy and El decided to team up against Hop and they have a prank war
LOVE. IT. DUDE. Hopper doesn’t stand a fucking CHANCE, my guy!!!
Bc El and Billy are such an Iconic Duo! esp in terms of pranks bc Billy is Devious as Hell and El is Just Devious Enough to go along w/ it and not only that, but she has the mind powers that are able to bring all of Billy’s terrible thoughts to fruition and tell me he doesn’t get such a kick out of that bc he so does.
and before they team up, El will often get super fed up and irritated w/ Billy bc he’ll do that dumb thing where he pretends she has something on her shirt so he can flick her chin up (to which she just uses her mind to flick his chin up) or he’ll put a fake spider in her room (to which she’ll throw it at him w/ her mind and innocently say she was just “returning” it) or he’ll put whipped cream on her hand while she’s sleeping and make her scratch her face (to which she’ll wipe the whipped cream off of her and send it flying towards Billy but….
It gets Hop instead.
Hop wipes his face, jaw tight but eyes with a hint of amusement.
“Alright alright… cut it out, you two.”
and El nods, twisting her mouth up a little bc she doesn’t like to disobey but she’s irritated and when she heads back into her room, Billy follows her and closes the door.
“What do you say we call a truce?” Billy asks quietly, closing the door.
Billy bends a bit to explain the meaning and then his reasoning. And El is a little hesitant bc a “prank war” sounds dangerous and she doesn’t wanna upset Hop but Billy is adamant about how it’s “all in good fun” as he ruffles El’s hair. They brainstorm a bit and Billy decides to head to the little pop-up Halloween store to gather some supplies.
And in a couple of days, there’s a bat flying around the cabin and a very shaken, very spooked, very loud Hopper running around trying to shoo it out with a broom.
“It’s over here!” Billy yells from where he’s sat at the their little dining table, trying for all the world to not smirk or laugh as Hopper stumbles over the couch to get to it. When he eventually smacks it out of the air, it falls to the ground lifelessly and Hop takes tentative steps towards it, leaning over it and about to touch it with the broom when-
It flies up into his face and Hop shrieks, smacking at it before Billy and El are busting out laughing, El from the doorway to her bedroom and Billy at the little table next to Hop and Hop realizes… it’s fucking fake.
He gives harsh looks to both of his kids, throwing the fake bat down.
“Oh ha ha.”
But the kids are basically gasping for air at this point with how hard they’re laughing, El even flopped on the couch and tapping her feet on it as she laughs and Hop drops the fake bat onto her.
“Eek!” she shrieks as she uses her mind powers to fling it away from her and straight into Billy’s face, who gives a very similar shirek.
About a week later, Hopper walks into a completely dark cabin, and gets a little nervous for a second bc El really doesn’t like the dark and his kids should be home on the couch watching TV and ruining their dinner??? So why so quiet?
It’s just then that a flashlight turns on, illuminating a large, floating figure that looks to be wearing a cloak of some sort. It spooks him, making him jump and putting him immediately on edge. Suddenly it’s laughing a deep, rumbling chuckle and then it’s flying towards him, rushing and Hop has his hands up and is punching strongly into-
The blanket that once seemed like a cloak falls over Hop’s face and he’s still punching when he hears the laughs. He’s struggling with the blanket over his head, pulling it off and flicking the lights on to reveal tiny feet kicking in the air from behind the couch and a curly head of blond along with crinkled blue eyes peeking over the top of the couch.
“What was that????” Hop demands, hands on his hips and anger in his voice. El pops up then, nothing but amusement in her face.
“Prank!” She shouts excitedly. Billy is still laughing when Hop turns irritated eyes onto him. Hop’s too tired for this.
The next time, they get Steve involved. Steve is not happy about it.
“Look, guys, you’re both very cute and very intimidating but this is Hopper we’re talking about here! We can’t… he’s gonna kill us!”
“No he won’t.” El is adamant as Billy pulls out the bucket full of water from the quarry that they’ve been hiding all day.
“Okay, he won’t kill you guys because he loves you guys. He doesn’t have any attachment to me! He’s gonna murder me on the spot!”
“Stop being so dramatic.” Billy says, straightening up and walking towards the window to see if Hop is coming.
“Hey!” Steve whines. “I’m not dramatic!”
“You are, and it’s adorably irritating.” Billy says as he kisses Steve soundly. “Now go out there and distract him.”
And Steve does. He stumbles over words and keeps Hop from coming in until Billy gives the signal that El has the bucket in place, which is just to open the door and let Steve in slowly so that Hop stays just past the doorway and Steve’s face is stressed and Hop isn’t an idiot, he knows something is up.
“If this is another prank…” he looks up and-
The bucket tips over and water pours down over his head.
Billy and El are laughing hard as Hop wipes his face and Steve is terrified. Hop starts taking heavy steps in the direction of the trio.
“I’m sorry Hop!” Steve is fumbling. “Uh, Chief! Sir! I’m so sorry, I was just used as bait, I promise!!”
“Come here.” Hop grumbles threateningly.
Steve is shaking like a leaf.
Hop extends his arms out. “And give me a hug.” He says it menacingly.
El’s eyes go wide and she giggles as she tries to run to her room. Billy holds his hands up in protest to the incoming Hopper.
“No no no, this is my favorite shirt.”
But none of them are safe, even as Hop chases Billy around the couch. He scoops all three of them into a very big, very damp bear hug, faces smushed and whines loud as they complain. Steve is…. Confused. But glad he’s not dying at the hands of the Police Chief so he guesses this is…. Fine….
And it’s ON at this point. Hop starts by only buying sugar free cookies and sweets but then realizes that affects him too so it’s a bit of a failure. He takes Billy’s car to get “serviced” but really he just gave it to a buddy of his down at the auto shop to hold it for a bit so that Billy has to be driven to school by Hop for a whole week. He buys only whole wheat Eggos. El hates them and pouts every time she picks up the box.
They table the Prank War so El can get her Eggos back.
But once Hop gets together w/ Joyce, Billy starts the prank war again w/ a renewed vigor. This time they have Jonathan and Will on their side, against Hop and Joyce. They all feel a little bad about doing anything mean to Joyce, but it’s still fun to watch her jump and shriek when Will’s stuffed puppy starts running around her feet. Or when they switch out all of the groceries to frozen pizzas. Or when Will and El sweetly tell her that they ran her a bath and then lead her to their bath tub full of the Jell-O they all 4 spent all day making.
Joyce and Hopper are ON IT though. they’re the fuckin dream team and were probably totally partners in crime in high school whenever they’d hang out together. They replace Billy’s hairspray w/ water. They hide all of Jonathan’s records and switch them out for old stuff from the 50’s. They let the Party come over and then embarrass the living daylights out of Will by sitting and pretending to try to understand DnD, purposefully getting everything slightly wrong and making Will want to pull his hair out. They let El go out on a date w/ Mike, but they insist on being there and they actually start dancing w/ each other in the middle of the ice cream parlor. El is mortified.
But the real straw that breaks the camel’s back is when Joyce helps Hop turn all of the kids’ clothes pink.
On picture day.
Like….. Billy is standing in the middle of their living room in a pink button down bc his clothes are fucking tinted pink now and he’s not happy.
“I can pull off anything, sure, but are you serious???”
“It was an accident.” Joyce says as she smirks over her cup of coffee.
“Let’s just get this over with.” Jonathan sighs, walking out in a pink short sleeved button down and a pout.
Will hops out, smiling a bit bc he really doesn’t care that much that his t shirt is pink. He’s a little worried about bullies but Mike helps him w/ those and he’ll be fine. El waves bye to them happily and totally not perturbed in her big pink-ish sweater with pink-ish shorts underneath.
Jonathan is pouting as he heads out to his car. “The prank stuff is over, Billy.”
“No, we can’t let them win.”
“We’re wearing pink for picture day, Billy. It’s over.”
Billy huffs in angered defeat.
Summary: This is based on this.
“Logan..can we talk?”
Those very words sent a bolt of fear racing through Logan’s heart as he looked up at the ever-stellar looking senior before him, nothing about him had changed in the past weeks he had removed himself from Roman’s presence with an almost surgical precision. He still wore that ridiculous jacket that had the theater clubs logo stitched to it, his hair looked as soft as ever being swept back out of his face letting those warm chocolate eyes peer down at him. His posture was much the same as ever as well, holding himself with a regal kind of grace that very few could pull off, and even less could make not look arrogant as all hell.
“There’s nothing to talk about…” He muttered, casting his eyes away from such a beautiful wonderful person, who’s inner thoughts stained Logan’s wrist. The words of hate, that he could no longer bear to look at anymore. The words that he had taken to covering with a long sweater sleeve, even if they were just about to enter summer.
It pained Roman to see just how awful Logan looked. The dark circles under his eyes might as well have been etched there by a greek architect, the bags under his eyes were so dark that he was almost convinced that his friend Virgil had powdered Logan’s eyes when the nerd had been asleep. His very body just slumped with exhaustion, and worse yet the fear that had darted into Logan’s expression, sent waves of agony through Roman’s heart to the point where he had to sneak a glance down at his wrist.
He’s too perfect for me, no wonder he hates me. I’m imperfect, while he is everything.
His heart broke all over again, and without even giving himself time to think about it as Logan turned away, moving to leave, to leave him, Roman seized Logan’s wrist. The muscles jumped under his touch, and warmth pooled in the hand, at the very location he was touching Logan. How long had it been since he had talked to let alone touched his soulmate since their argument? Too long?
“Nothing to talk about?” Roman’s words had more of a bite to them than he would have liked, but nevertheless, it needed to be said, right here and now. “What about this Logan?!” He snapped briefly letting go of Logan’s arm to tug down his sleeve, even more, revealing the deep navy blue letters that were finely printed onto his arm. Logan’s handwriting was perfect in compared to his, but even so, pain gripped his chest again as soon as Logan’s eyes traveled over Roman’s arms.
The fear was back, and it glimmer in Logan’s eyes with unshed tears.
“This isn’t nothing Logan! This is you! These are your thoughts, they aren’t nothing!” He blurted out, mentally hitting himself for how his usually firm voice broke as he thrusted his arm forward again. “This is you...and that’s not nothing to me.” He repeated, finally releasing his own sleeve before he reached forward, his eyes stung and burned as soon as Logan almost instinctively shied away from him. Like a frightened abused animal that was utterly terrified of being hit again.
“I’m sorry…” Logan whispered, his hoarse voice cracking as he instinctively curled his arms around his own middle moving away from the loud and extra gestures that came with Roman. A brief look of hope darted over Roman’s expression, hope that was quickly dashed the moment that Logan spoke again. “I did not mean for my mental thoughts to stain you in such an imperfect way. It probably…” This probably makes you hate me even more.
It was left unsaid, and even so, the words appeared on Roman’s flesh replacing the words that had once been there before. It hurt Roman so damn much to see them.
“Logan..Logan please.” He whispered, holding his hands up in the universal sign for peace as he inched forward, Logan didn’t move away again, and thus he inched forward just a little bit more until he was able to wrap his arms around the nerd pulling short bony dork in for a hug. “I don’t hate you..please...I could never hate you. Please look at your wrist again. Please…” Begging, was something he would almost certainly never do, but this...Logan was worth begging as he felt the trembles wracking Logan’s form, as he felt the other’s fingers grasping onto the lapels of his jacket, and as he felt that the other wasn’t prepared to let go just yet.
A damp wetness grew on his chest as Logan rested his cheek on Roman’s cheek, he felt a flush of embarrassment taking him over as the salty wet tears trailed down his cheeks.
“I..I cannot.” He mumbled, “I’m scared, do you the statistics of soulmates who have hateful words written on their skin? What happens to them? How they usually end up?”
Just like that horror dawned on Roman, it wasn’t just him that Logan was afraid of, but his future actions that the words might predict.
Most soulmates with hateful words tattooed on their flesh did not end up well, everyone knew that. On the news, there were always stories about it, and almost always it was blamed on the soulmate who had perished, and not the one who had hurt them. Logan didn’t want to be a statistic, he didn’t want to be another one of those nameless faces that no one would ever miss, that no one would..ever care about. Being forgotten, was a fate worse than death in Logan’s eyes, Roman had always known that.
“Logan,” Roman began as he pulled back a little, tipping Logan’s chin up so that their eyes would meet. Logan’s hazel eyes met his brown ones and his heart thudded in his chest as he wiped away yet another tear from Logan’s cheek. “I love you, and if you ever..ever think that I will lay a hand on you. Then for once, you are dead wrong. We may have fights, we may yell at one another, but you...you are the missing section of my soul. The other sock that was lost in the dyer of life, I would cross an ocean for you and fight every monster along the way. You..”
Roman swallowed as he briefly closed his eyes, a deep shuddering breath rattled in his chest before he allowed himself to go on. Just the thought of losing Logan, of having to part from him forever sent a wave of agony through him. He couldn’t..he never wanted to lose Logan. Never.
Opening his lips again, Roman jerked to a stop as soon as he felt a warm finger pressing over his lips, Logan’s finger silencing him.
“I..alright.” The nerd murmured, casting his eyes downward for a moment, “I’ll trust you on this, and..and we will proceed together in his relationship. Together.” A rush of relief swept through Roman, but even so, Logan pulled away from Roman, detaching himself from the other’s arms as he took a moment to ground himself before tugging his sweater sleeve upwards.
As he did so the words changed before his eyes.
I’m worried about you, please talk to me. Changed to, I love you so much, please stay beside me in our walk of life. Forever.
32 and 33 from the prompt list with hk400? I think it fits with him.
Ngl every time an HK400 request pops up in my inbox my heart goes 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕. I think it’s safe to say that he’s one of my top 6 favorite NPC androids ever (the others are Daniel, Simon, Ralph, and Rupert) ^w^
But yes these prompts absolutely fit him!
32. “You deserve to know what love can feel like.”33. “Nothing could ever make me hate you.”
You ventured into the dark, damp, and dusty attic, your footsteps causing the worn floorboards to creak with every little movement you made.
Least to say, the creepy mannequins, spider webs, and white shredded sheets made this place look like a scene straight out of a horror movie. But you were brave enough to explore it in hopes of finding the android that had ran up here, since you were led by traces of blue and red blood.
“Mike? You here?”
To make a long story short, you had stopped by Carlos’ house to drop off a package, although you ended up abandoning it when your nose picked up the stench of Death itself coming from within.
Sure enough, when you had entered, you were met with the corpse of the man slumped against the wall, the words “I AM ALIVE” written in his blood, along with a bloody knife that laid not too far from him. There was also a bat in the kitchen, too, which was stained in Thirium, along with a knocked over chair.
It didn’t take a genius to piece it all together and realize that Carlos had attacked Mike and he fought back in self-defense. But you knew if you called the cops, they’d find the HK400 and destroy him, so you wanted to search for him and bring him far away from here before the neighbors suspected something.
As you wedged yourself between a shelf and a slanted wooden pillar, you could see the glow of a red LED pulsating in the darkness. And only when you got through the gap was when you saw him.
Standing there, the moonlight filtering through one of the windows casting a slight glow on him, was a bloodied, petrified Mike with horribly scarred-up arms, marred in sparks, Thirium, and cigarette burns.
“Mike..? Oh my God..” You mumbled, stopping dead in your tracks as you looked him up and down. Of course, you knew that his owner never treated him kindly…but you didn’t know he was suffering this much. “Wh-What did he do to you?”
His lips trembled slightly as he stared at you, at first unable to form a coherent sentence. “H-He…was gonna kill me, [y/n]. I had to defend myself a-and..and-”
“Shh..It’s gonna be okay,” you soothed, reaching a hand out to him, only for him to flinch away.
“P-Please don’t hate me…I just..I-I was so scared that I was gonna die!”
Your heart broke as he said those words, and you recoiled your hand. This attack must have turned him deviant, but then again..such a traumatic experience was bound to wake up any android for that matter.
“Mike. Nothing could ever make me hate you.”
His LED flickered to yellow now, although it still blinked red every few seconds or so, but he did seem calmer now.
With a comforting smile, you took a step closer to him, watching his movements carefully. “I wanna get you out of here. I’ll even let you stay at my place, okay? I’m not gonna turn you in or anything like that. You trust me, right?”
Mike remained silent and tense. He did relax his shoulders a bit, though, and his LED gradually turned to blue as he saw you offer your hand once more. Finally, he nodded slowly and grasped it with his own hand that was clean of blood.
“O-Okay..but…I need something from the bathroom first.”…….
It’s been several weeks since that night you found the HK400 hiding in the attic. And since then you’ve been caring for him in your apartment along the outskirts of Detroit.
But even though he’s known you for quite some time, he’s become rather skittish and would always do everything you asked of him without hesitation. He’d also scribble the words “RA9″ on the walls of his new bedroom, although he was rather cryptic about the meaning of it, talking about it like it was some savior or god.
You made note to do some research later on.…..
One evening, you returned home to see Mike making some adjustments to the statuette he had carved back at his former abuser’s house. Considering he was an android made to mostly clean and cook, you were surprised by his artistic abilities.
Perhaps, like many humans who have been through something traumatic, it was a hobby he took up as a way to cope with the stress and anxiety. Maybe that’s why he looked to this “RA9″, too.
He was wearing a hoodie you lent him. Since you didn’t have the money to replace or repair his heavily damaged arms, you figured he could at least use the sleeves to cover them up so he didn’t have to look at them every day and be reminded of the torture he went through.
“Hey. I’m back.”
He perked up, giving you a tiny nod of acknowledgement, before he went back to brushing the wooden shavings off the sculpture. But he paused for a moment, his gaze seemingly bleak.
“Mike?” You sat beside him. “You okay?”
“….I-I don’t know..” The HK400 set down the statuette and the mini knife, wrapping his arms around himself. “But…e-ever since you took me in I..I felt a new emotion that’s just so..foreign to me.” He put a hand to his chest, before looking at you. “Whenever I see you I just…have this urge to protect you and care for you, just as you have done for me. I feel it every single day and night.”
It took you a second or two for your brain to finally register what “emotion” he was experiencing for the first time. You smiled softly and shifted closer to him, putting a gentle hand on his knee. “I think..you’re feeling love, Mike.”
“..love?” He looked up the definition, the words appearing in his vision, although they quickly dispersed as he shook his head. “No..that..that can’t be right.”
“What do you mean?”
“I-I…I can’t…I…don’t deserve….” Much like that fateful night, his words were all jumbled up. “I-I’ve never….”
But you knew what he really wanted to say.
“You deserve to know what love can feel like.” You gently took one of his scarred hands, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles, before you applied a tender kiss to one of the cuts he had there. “If anyone deserves to know…it’s you.”
He just froze in shock at the gesture, stunned, although his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But I..I killed a human in cold blood. I’m a murderer…”
“You fought back against an asshole who beat you every day,” you corrected. “Some humans might call it murder, but I see it as self-defense. Besides..I don’t think a “murderer” would allow me to get this close to them, right?”
Mike gazed at you, opening his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t find any fault in your argument.
Just as he closed it, though, a small whimper escaped his lips, and you took that as your cue to comfort him. So you carefully wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close, kissing his LED, which lit up bright blue in response.
He hugged your waist, emitting shaky breaths that indicated he was starting to sob. “I-I love you, [y/n]. Please never leave m-me..”
“I love you, too, Mikey.” With a smile you held him tight, sighing softly. “I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”