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#wanna raid his closet and steal that shirt
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Okay but can you do 25) that’s where all my clothes went but Steve saying it about his reader the girlfriend, and his and your best friend Robin??
Yes because I absolutely respect also loving brotp stobin with /reader for one or both of them haha, I love that dynamic! And absolutely a hc of my own too that Robin occasionally steals Steve’s clothes, as well as his partner doing so lmao
Prompt: 25) that’s where all my clothes went
Steve Harrington x reader, Robin Buckley & reader
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You walked into family video at around midday, knowing Steve and Robin’s shift would be starting any minute.
When you entered the store only Robin was there, who lit up as soon as she saw it was only you, bouncing towards you before she encased you in a hug, one you eagerly returned as you took in the perfume you got her for her birthday.
“Thank God it’s you. The second I put my badge on and a customer walks in, I feel like my whole day is cursed.” Robin laughed into your shoulder, before pulling back with a smile, both of you still holding onto’s each other’s arms.
“Well thank God then. Can’t have your day being cursed. You’re riding in the same car as me when Steve takes us to the movie theatre later, I don’t wanna be collateral damage.” You joke, Robin lightly brushing your shoulder as she backed up a step closer to the tape rack. “And you don’t want me to be cursed?”
“Hmm, that too.” You agree, both of you laughing through your noses, before you sighed at the tapes that were definitely on the wrong shelves. A Nightmare On Elm Street was definitely not ‘kindergarten & under friendly!’
It only took you a second however, now you’d pulled away from Robin, to notice the dark blue shirt she was wearing, accompanied by some dangly bracelets and a black pair of ripped jeans. “Is that’s Steve’s shirt? Or is another one you both accidentally bought?” You asked good naturedly, remembering the time they both showed up to Nancy’s party in the same sports crop top.
Robin sighed, pinching the material and pulling it out from her stomach. “Yeah, I didn’t like any of my clean clothes today.”
You both nodded together, knowing the feeling.
It was a normal thing for both of you to steal from Steve’s wardrobe. You were both over at his all the time, sometimes hanging out there when Steve wasn’t even in.
One day Steve had left bed early to drive Dustin somewhere, but you were still lounging about in his sheets. You heard someone using the front door key, and Robin bounded into the bedroom, only giving you a slightly too ealry in the morning but still cheery “Oh hey!” as you tried to at least put a bra on under the sheets.
Robin had been swiping all of Steve’s jackets on a rack to the side one by one, and when you had last nights bra and Steve’s basketball shorts on, you joined her side, asking “anything in particular you’re looking for?”
“Yeah. His brown jacket, you know the fake leather one? I’ve just got a new bunch of shit and I need to see if it fits these tops that pretty much will only go with that.”
You found it in a small pile and handed it to Robin, used to her raiding Steve’s closet before, and she knew you did the exact same thing. Occasionally with Steve in the room, where you both promised to give it back. Although now, you knew you weren’t the only one to use Steve’s gifted house keys to your advantage.
Now though, in family video, you took in the top Robin was wearing, feeling the material by stroking the sleeves on her bicep, and nodding knowing the answer to your internal question.
“Oh yeah. I wore that one yesterday.” You kept nodding. It was a good shirt. Very fashionable, and unisex. Not that shirts had genders.
Robin blinked, although wasn’t really surprised, looking down at it “Oh really?” She lifted the collar, giving it a small sniff test. “Well at least you smell good. It was on his clean pile.”
“Yeah I put it there last night, I only wore it for a couple of hours when we went shopping.”
“Probably for more clothes. Poor Steve.” Robin pulled a dramatic face at you, woeing for him, and you both shared another laugh. Helping Robin in her duties as you took three copies of Friday The 13th, and four of The Exorcist and helped move it to the horror section.
“I mean, I’m wearing his top and his pants today. Not my fault I can convince him to get pants that comfortably fit both of us.” You gestured down to your outfit, Robin giving it a quick applause in appreciation.
“Yeah” Robin started “Have you noticed he wears this one to work a lot?” She nodded down to ‘her’ shirt, flattening it with a brush of her hand. You weren’t even surprised at how well Steve’s clothes fit you or Robin anymore sometimes. Almost like he wanted you both to steal them, you could argue.
“I think he thinks this one is more ‘professional’ or something.” Robin gave air quotes at the word, rolling her eyes and smiling at you before returning to the task at hand.
You pull it a little from her waist, Robin of course doesn’t care, as you rub the hem of it between your fingers. It really did seem like a good material. “Well do you think he was gonna wear it today?” You asked, only for Robin to give an uncaring shrug at you.
That’s when Steve ran through the door, a good twelve minutes late to his shift.
Luckily his face went from panic and trying to keep the door from flying off its hinges, to a relaxed puff of air flowing from his cheeks, as he realised it was only you and Robin in the store, no Keith.
“Well thank God for that.”
“God’s getting a lot of thanks today.” Robin noted, leaving the tapes for Steve to sort as she went to lean against the counter. There was a really good spot the sun shone through at midday, and Robin rolled her head and relaxed into it like a cat.
“Yeah, that’s probably why so many people are avoiding curses.” You noted as you walked up to Steve.
“Amen!” Robin called with a finger out to you, eyes still closed, as you came and bundled Steve’s sweater up in your hands, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek.
“What?” Steve said quietly, a lost look in his puppy dog eyes as he looked between his girlfriend and his best friend.
You and Robin both just chuckled, and you used his sweater to pull him in for another kiss. One Steve smiled against, even if he wasn’t quite in on your antics of the day. Giving just a quiet and happy moan, simply because he was happy to be giving you your first kiss of the day.
It was only when you leaned back, Steve still smiling hooded at you, slightly licking his lips, that you looked at the darker colour between your hands. And as you took a step back, still holding him like he owed you money, you were just a tad surprised. “Is that my sweater?”
Even Robin looked up now, peering her head aorund to catch a glimpse.
“Yeah babe. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t find anything work suitable left for today.” Steve relayed, his hand rubbing the back of your neck, still there from when he’d been kissing you. You could tell it was from a drawer you left at Steve’s house, for when you didn’t pack for an unplanned ‘sleepover’.
Steve still felt comfortable in it though at least. Even if he was late with the chaos of tearing his bedroom apart. “I swear my laundry machine eats my-“
Steve stopped as you gestured smiling apologetically down at your shirt... and at your pants. And when you looked over at Robin, Steve followed your trail. Watching her cheerily wave, before he realised what she was wearing too.
He fell back on his feet, an amused smile on his face. “Oh. That’s where all my clothes went.” He bemused, unable to even sound chiding.
And even though you kissed his cheek in ‘apology’, you knew he loved the easy going and close friendships and relationships he had with you and Robin. And the others, because Eddie definitely stole that sports crop top from Steve after that party, because you remember chucking it out a window at him. You knew Steve loved his little family, even if you punked him sometimes like this.
“Well I’m eventually gonna give it back.” You rolled your eyes dramatically, pulling on ‘his’ sweater sweetly, as Robin called out “I’m not!”
Steve only wrapped his arm around your neck, kissing the shell of your ear. “It’s fine. It looks better on you than it does me. Although Robin could use a little help.”
“Dingus!” Robin called out, letting her middle finger stretch far.
Steve only retuned his half heartedly, before shaking his head at both of you. Getting his attention drawn back as your fingers graced his toned chest. “Just don’t get any badge holes in it Stevie. They look awful in that sweater.”
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sustainably-du-mortain · 11 months
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1-5 for each of your twc ships, from the otp ask from earlier. I'll probably come back for more when im home
pls do come back for more, I love rambling about the blorbos!!
1.Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’ ?
Adam x Jonah x Nate
I can see Nate as most likely to do it, because of the whole over-protectiveness thing N has going on. Second comes Adam, it doesn't happen often, but it does from time to time, especially if the thing they were arguing about was in regards to the safety of the other two. Jonah would be the least likely to use it.
Madeleine x Morgan
Can I say no one? These two don't need to involve their feelings to own up to their actions, if that makes sense. But if I had to pick, I'd say Madeleine because I have one particular argument in mind regarding being turned into a vampire where she'd use it.
Côme x Felix
Honestly, I can see it coming from the both of them. But I can see it coming out as like, stating the obvious. It's an "of course, I did what I did because I love you" kind of thing.
2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare?
Adam x Jonah x Nate
I'm not going to answer this one for them because I have a fic I wanna write about this
Madeleine x Morgan
Madeleine knows her touch eases Morgan, so she'd slowly approach her to gradually wrap her arms around. She holds Morgan tight until she's calmed down. Simple, but it works like a charm. Morgan was already awake before Madeleine woke up because she could sense Maddie's distress, so I can actually see her waking up Madeleine. She makes sure to be gentle, tell Maddie that everything's fine, cup her face in her hands to have Mads focus on her and her only.
Côme x Felix
Côme is a light sleeper so I can see them being woken up by Felix moving around in his sleep. They'd panic a little, not understanding what's going until Felix wakes up. Then, they'd try to reassure Felix, ask if he wants to talk about it or not and pull him closer to cuddle back to sleep. I can also see Felix being woken up by Côme moving around, but I feel like he'd understand what's going on before Côme could wake up and he'd try to actually prevent Côme from waking up. But he makes it worse and wakes them up when trying to hold them closer. There's a little freaking out because that wasn't his intentions, then comes the reassurance, trying to get Côme to calm down, make them understand what's going on and grounding them back. And there's a lot of cuddle and talking involved before they fall back asleep.
3. Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)
Adam x Jonah x Nate
Jonah and Nate: yes, they do, absolutely, all the time. Jonah loves stealing his boyfriends' clothes, especially Adam's tees and Nate's shirts. Nates also loves going for Adam's tees (poor guy had to get new ones because these two were always raiding his closet). Nate tried to wear one of Jonah's t-shirt once, unfortunately the size difference made it impossible for him to wear any of Jonah's clothes, but he does wear some of his jewelry, especially his rings. For Adam it's a whole other story. He would love to, but again size difference makes it kinda hard. But accessories make for a good substitute, especially scarves during winter, he alternates between Nate's and Jonah's.
Madeleine x Morgan
For these two it's a more discreet/intimate thing. Maddie wears some of Morgan's jewelry, and Morgan will wear some of Maddie's tees but it's a thing that only Maddie gets to see.
Côme x Felix
YES! Absolutely, always! They're always stealing each other's clothes and they have really similar tastes so it's just like expanding the other's wardrobe. Every single piece of the other's wardrobe they can get their hands on, they wear.
4. Which one is more protective? Who needs to be ‘protected’?
Adam x Jonah x Nate
Oh, gosh, all three of them are protective. From Nate's over-protectiveness to Adam's concern for their safety to Jonah just being fiercely protective. Jonah often ends up being the 'protected' one, especially to physical danger, because both Adam and Nate get protective about that. Then Adam can't help but protect Nate from physical danger either. Jonah and his cuttin sarcasm do all the protecting when it comes to people talking behind Nate and Adam's backs.
Madeleine x Morgan
Morgan is the fiercely protective one in the relationship. She knows that Madeleine doesn't particularly need to be protected but she can't help it. And Maddie loves seeing that side of Morgan so she's not complaining.
Côme x Felix
These two are a disaster because they're on both sides of the spectrum. They're both protective about the other, but often end up having to be protected by the rest of UB.
5. Describe their cozy night in.
Adam x Jonah x Nate
Cooking together (lasagna if possible). Jonah getting Adam and Nate to build a Lego set with him. Music playing in the background. Getting on a walk with Bo. Heading to bed for cuddles while Nate reads to them. And some more cuddles until they all fall asleep.
Madeleine x Morgan
Madeleine making soup. Telling Morgan about all the gossip from work and wayhaven over dinner. Then watching a documentary of Morgan's choice all cuddled up until the head for bed, where Maddie reads for a while with Morgan laying on her chest.
Côme x Felix
Ordering take out for Côme. Them trying to teach knitting/crocheting to Felix while they watch a show/movie/cartoon. Giving up because Felix got all tangled up in the yarn. Cuddling up. Getting to sleep but not actually sleeping because they end up talking about nothing and everything.
OTP ask game
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finckyoufreeky · 3 years
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hartigays · 3 years
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rafe taking barry to a fancy kook party👀
“but you’re still coming, right?”
rafe is pacing back and forth in his room, gnawing on his lip with his phone pressed to his ear.
“sho’ thang, country club,” barry says from the other end, and rafe can immediately tell that he’s fucking blasted already.
it’s four in the afternoon.
but that’s fine, great even. the less barry tries, the better. that’s the whole point, after all. to make everyone but himself as uncomfortable as humanly possible at tonight’s fundraiser or gala or whatever shit his family is hosting.
rafe can never be bothered to remember.
barry maybe possibly perhaps could be a minor casualty in this little endeavor, when it comes to ward at least. it’s not enough to deter rafe - he’ll just. make it up to barry later, or whatever, if it’s a problem. that’s what normal people do, right? just do whatever the fuck you want then ask for forgiveness later. or something like that.
rafe can’t be bothered to remember timeless sayings or what the fuck ever, either.
“wear something- ” rafe pauses, effectively cutting himself off. he was about to tell barry to wear something nice out of habit (the words were even thought in ward’s voice. rafe can feel a vein start to pulse in his forehead). “wear whatever you want. and be late. bring the bike.”
barry is quiet for a moment, and rafe doesn’t know why, but he feels like barry is doing that small half-smile dimple thing that makes rafe feel all wobbly inside.
probably because, as rafe remembers with sudden clarity, barry lives for drama just as much as rafe. it’s kind of why they’re fooling around behind everyone’s backs in the first place.
sure, barry is nice to look at and decent in bed and blah blah blah, but the best part about their relationship is the knowledge of how much it’d cripple people if they knew about it. people like ward cameron, for example.
rafe thinks barry is just as interested as him in seeing ward’s head burst like a grape after seeing them together for the first time. although rafe is pretty sure that’s more because barry just wants their relationship to be public, and he doesn’t really give a shit one way or another how it happens.
ward’s head turning purple from stress is just, like, the cherry on top of the whole shit cake.
“heard,” is all barry says in response to rafe’s requests (or demands, depending on how you look at it) before hanging up.
rafe exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. he turns towards his mirror, smoothing a hand over the shirt that he’d stolen from barry’s closet earlier this morning.
he’d wanted to stay at barry’s all day and convince him that they should go to the fundraiser together instead of just meeting each other there, but rafe never even got a chance to suggest it, only getting so far as asking barry if he could go at all. because barry had to work, the busy fuck.
when he’s not working, he’s dealing nonstop. when he’s not dealing, he’s busy making rafe’s life miserable by filling him with all sorts of stupid mushy feelings that have him missing barry when he’s gone. it’s disgusting, and he despises the fact that he loves it so much.
but he’ll make an exception, because it’s barry. always because it’s barry.
that doesn’t mean that rafe has to fill barry in on all of his plans, necessarily. he can just invite him places and vaguely allude to the real reason for the invite without actually saying it and barry can either go along with it or not.
at least in this situation, barry is seemingly okay with being conned into going to a cameron family event for more reasons than just being rafe’s - well, they hadn’t exactly settled on barry being his date.
rafe had simply asked barry to go and barry had simply said yes.
after barry left for work, rafe had raided his wardrobe, and he’s been wearing the ratty t-shirt ever since. it smells like barry, and rafe wants to smother himself in it.
he also wants to show up tonight in it, just to make things that much worse for ward.
so, rafe does.
sarah’s eyes bug out of her head when she sees him. she opens her mouth when he breezes past her, but he doesn’t stop to listen to whatever she has to say.
rafe can deal with whatever sarah throws at him later. right now, he’s setting a plan in motion and can’t afford to be distracted.
by the time the party is in full swing, rafe has yet to make it into ward’s line of sight, and barry is late. which was the plan, but barry’s almost too late.
the speeches have long since passed, and everyone is either dancing or mingling at this point. his chance to crash the party on-stage, an idea he’d been toying with, comes and goes as the hours pass.
rafe had kind of been hoping he could make a scene.
in the end, he sort of gets his wish.
barry comes strolling in when the party is starting to wind down. he reeks like he smoked a blunt on the way over - rafe can smell it wafting off of him as he storms over.
“are you fucking kidding me?” rafe snaps, ignoring the way barry is eyeing his shirt.
“that mine?” he asks, one brow arched.
rafe looks down at his shirt, then back up at barry, glaring. “yes? whatever. shut up. i had a plan. would it have literally fucking killed you to show up on time?”
“shit, baby boy. you said be late,” barry snorts, rolling his eyes. “ain’t i late?”
“you missed- ” rafe snaps again, an octave higher, before cutting his response short and pinching the bridge of his nose. “i didn’t say this late.”
“pretty sure i don’t remember hearin’ you specify, country club.”
which is fair, rafe was vague for a reason, and perhaps it backfired on him a little. but whatever, he’s mad at barry anyway and there’s not much he can do about that, except, well. be mad.
“i had a whole goddamn thing i was going to do,” rafe bitches. “and you missed it.”
barry glances around, eyeing the rather quiet crowd starting to notice their little display. for a moment, it looks like he wants to pull rafe outside for some privacy. but he must see something on rafe’s face, because his expression shifts, and then he’s grinning like a shark.
“ain’t i tell you to quit takin’ my shit?” barry asks, suddenly taking the argument in a new direction. “the fuck i give a shit about being late for when you taking all my damn clothes?”
rafe glances around at the crowd, noting sarah eyeing him from the corner of the room. and next to her, ward.
staring right at rafe, looking murderous. it’s entirely too good, and rafe could kiss barry.
but there’ll be time for that in - well. in like, the next minute, but rafe is determined to draw this out at least a little bit.
“maybe don’t ruin my clothes in the first place and i won’t have to steal yours,” rafe tosses back.
he’s pleased to see barry’s cheeks turn pink - just a little bit.
and then, “you want me to ruin some more? keep stealin’ my shit, that’s what’s gonna happen, princess.”
barry dangles the bait in front of rafe so nicely, he really can’t help but take it.
“i do, actually,” rafe says, then adds, thoughtfully, “wanna take this argument somewhere else?”
“shit, country club. i didn’t know you was such a romantic.”
rafe will certainly show him romantic, if that’s what he wants. only because rafe gets a whole hell of a lot more out of it, too.
he kisses barry right there in front of the whole crowd, with purpose. like it’s the last thing he’ll be able to do.
based on the color of ward’s face, it just might be.
barry grabs the front of rafe’s shirt - or, well, barry’s shirt, technically - and hauls him in closer, kissing him deeper. barry always kisses him like it’s the first time - like he’s constantly discovering something he never knew existed, and now he can’t get enough of it.
rafe is utterly consumed by it. he feels like he’s burning from the inside out, like he’s being stripped bare in front of the universe itself, and he wants to drown himself in it.
“get me out of here and i’ll show you just how romantic i can be,” rafe breathes against barry’s lips, his fingers still knotted in his hair.
barry bumps their foreheads together before extracting himself from rafe’s embrace, barely sparing his surroundings a glance before dragging rafe right back through the front doors. rafe hears the heavy wood shut behind them.
he feels like he’s snorted the fattest line in history when he climbs onto the back of barry’s bike, hearing it roar to life. rafe pulls his helmet on and wraps his arms around barry’s middle, slipping his fingers under the hem of barry’s shirt.
just a touch to tide him over. just until they can get back to barry’s trailer.
it isn’t until they’re speeding out of the parking lot that ward storms outside, shouting something at them from the front steps. it’s completely inaudible, but rafe looks back in time to see the look on ward’s face. his expression alone speaks volumes.
rafe surprisingly finds that, in the grand scheme of things, he doesn’t really give a fuck either way.
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birdiefw · 4 years
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JJ MAYBANK | SEPTEMBER
Summary: It was during a party on September 21st when you and JJ fell in love.
Warnings: underage drinking, cursing, SLIGHT angst & fluff
A/N: I don’t know how this happened but I’m just rolling with it because I love that song and needed to make another JJ imagine. FEEL FREE TO SEND REQUESTS, TOO!
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[not my gif]
You didn’t want to go to the party. There was only one week of school before fall break — a week of complete relaxation and not a single assignment to occupy your time — but you needed to focus on your remaining assignments in order to make sure you were still passing all of your classes. Your parents were expecting nothing but perfection from you and you didn’t want to let them down.
They already disapproved of your friends. You didn’t want to give them any more reason to despise you.
One of your close friends, Kiara Cerrera, or simply Kie, had tried to convince you to go to the boneyard for a kegger to ease your nerves, but you were deep in homework and couldn’t afford to stop now.
That was almost two hours ago and it was nearing midnight. Your parents were fast asleep in their bedroom down the hall, but you were wide awake with your homework spread out around you on the floor. Your mind was desperately begging you to take a break, to rest and relax so you didn’t go into overload, but you’d made it this far — you couldn’t stop now.
Faint music softly played from your phone that was carelessly tossed on your bed, your ears tuning out any chime that came from it to avoid getting distracted by your concerned friends. You promised Kie you were fine and would stop at a reasonable time, but you should’ve known better than to believe she wouldn’t express her concerns to your friends.
After a while, you heard a light tap on your window. You frowned, eyes growing wide. You’d seen enough horror movies than to know better than to look. There was no way you were going to open your window so late at night.
You gulped and stood up, cautiously sitting on the edge of your bed. The tap came again.
You nervously bit your lip, your gut telling you to go get your dad, but you remained frozen in place. The music on your phone abruptly stopped and it began to ring. You jumped fearfully, relaxing when you saw it was only JJ. You quickly answered it, hoping it hadn’t woken your parents.
“JJ, I cant talk right now,” you whispered. Your eyes never left your thankfully locked window. “There’s—”
“Someone tapping on your window?” JJ finished for you, amusement laced in his gruff voice. Your eyes widened and you stood up, yanking back your curtain. The light from your room spilled out of the window, lighting up JJ’s face behind the glass. You sighed in relief and hung up, lifting the window to let him inside.
JJ grinned and pocketed his own phone before quietly climbing into your room; it was times like these you were thankful you lived in a one story home. You backed out of his way, going back to sitting in the floor by your homework. JJ watched you, doing a double take at all of the papers you had scattered around you. “Woah,” he breathed out, cocking a brow in your direction. “Are you sure we go to the same school? ‘Cause there’s no way in hell we have that much work to do it.”
You let out a light laugh, innocently shrugging when you caught his unsure gaze. “Yes, but I’m in AP classes. They require more work,” you replied defensively. You pulled a notebook into your lap, a separate sheet right next to you. “I need to finish these, JJ. Besides, don’t you have a party to be at?”
JJ sighed, lazily plopping down at your desk. He propped his feet up on your desk only to dramatically put them back down at the glare you sent him. “I was, but you weren’t there,” he said in reply. You frowned. Why did it matter if you were there? Sure, you were flattered he wanted you to be there, but that never stopped him from partying before.
“So?” You laughed, jotting down the next answer to your assignment. “I’m just not in the mood to party tonight. My parents would kill me, too.”
“Are you going to tell them?”
“Well, no, but they might—”
“They won’t.” You sighed, giving JJ a tired look. He held his hands out at his sides, eyes softened. “C’mon, Y/N. Kie said you’ve been doing this all day—”
“JJ, I promise, I’m fine,” you interjected. You really didn’t wanna have another debate about it again. You were still reeling in from the one you had with Kiara. You didn’t think you could do it all over again, and with JJ no less. As much as you appreciated his, and everyone else’s concern, it was unnecessary.
You looked back down to your homework, hoping JJ would drop it. You went back to working out the problems, pausing when JJ stood up and sat down beside you. The corners of your lips tweaked upwards, giving him a suspicious look. “JJ, what’re you doing?” You questioned.
He picked up a piece of paper, grinning towards you. “What’s it look like? I’m gonna help you so you can finish sooner and get to the party.”
You giggled, playfully rolling your eyes. “You don’t have to do that,” you stated softly. “I don’t wanna go, anyways.”
JJ dropped the paper, his eyes pleading with you. “This isn’t good for your health, Y/N,” he said, brows knitted together.
“You’re one to talk!” You retorted defensively. “How healthy do you think it is to drink as—”
“This isn’t about me,” JJ cut in, standing up. He ran a hand through his hair and took a few steps away, finally facing you. “I-we’re all worried about you. All were asking is for one night, Y/N. That stuff can wait until tomorrow. You need a serious break, and I’m not leaving here until you agree to come with me.”
You rolled your eyes in annoyance. “You can’t stay here all night, JJ.”
“Watch me.”
You angrily huffed, slamming your homework onto the floor. JJ proudly smirked — it was only a matter of time until you caved. You clenched your jaw and pushed yourself to your feet, folding your arms over your chest. “If I say yes, what do you get out of it?”
“I get to see my friend have a good time instead of overworking herself to death,” he answered, face hardened with sincerity.
You were taken aback by his answer. It was stern, but he didn’t hesitate. He was being honest.
Eventually you sighed, unable to stop yourself from smiling towards the sun kissed boy. “Fine, I’ll go, but one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ll see.”
————
“This is ridiculous.”
“It is not!”
“I look like a freakin’ tour guide!”
“No, you don’t!”
The party was raging when you and JJ arrived, having ridden on your two person bike so you wouldn’t have to take your car and make it obvious you’d snuck out. Kooks, Pogues, and clueless Tourons clashed in one enormous group on the sand, bodies blending together in the sea of faces that moved along with the thumping music that blared from a nearby radio. A keg was placed by the water, red solo cups were discarded throughout the beach, some still clutched in the clammy hands of those hoping to have a good time.
“Hey, what time does the tour begin, hot stuff?” John B. called out, coming up to you and JJ, throwing his arm around his best friends shoulders. You held your hand over your mouth, hoping to hide your laugh from JJ. The boy turned to you, giving you an ‘I told you so’ look, but you just waved it off.
He shrugged John B.’s arm off, pointing in your direction. “It was her idea, not mine,” JJ stated. The bright yellow, Hawaiian shirt he wore was bright under the moonlight, making it easy for anyone to spot him in the crowd. The top five buttons were undone, you having been the one to say that was the perfect amount to have done — just the right amount of skin showing. A black bandana was wrapped in his hair, a few short pieces sticking out and resting on his forehead. “I think she raided your closet of somethin’.”
You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving JJ. Your gaze swiveled over to John B., giving him a small smile. “I take it you were worried about me, too?”
“I’m always worried about you. You don’t party enough,” he replied, chuckling. Then he nodded towards JJ, eyes twinkling mischievously. “He was worried the most, though.”
“I was not—”
“John B.!” A pretty blonde called out, motioning the boy over to her with two red cups in her hands.
John B. contently sighed, stealing a glance to you and JJ. “Duty calls, my friends,” he breathed out. He pointed a finger to you as he started to walk off, lips pursed. “Have fun, Y/N. And if I see you trying to leave early, I’ll drag you back and handcuff you to myself so you can’t leave.”
You falsely saluted him, hardening your features and stranding straight. “Sir, yes, sir!”
He gave you and JJ a final wave, disappearing into the crowd with the Touron girl, leaving you and JJ all alone. You were expecting him to go about and find some cute girl to flirt with and slip out of the part my with, but much to your surprise, he remained at your side.
You could see Kie off in the distance by a dim bonfire, trying to get Pope out to dance with her. You grinned, a gasp leaving your lips when you heard what song was playing. You sharply turned to JJ, gently grabbing his shoulders and lightly shaking. “Oh my god!” You beamed. You grabbed at his hands and pulled him further into the crowd.
“Woah, hey!” JJ whined, tightening his grip on your hand. “I’m getting sand in my shoes!”
“Hush!” You giggled, finding a spot near the middle that gave you both enough room to dance without disturbing those around you. You let go of his hand and then faced him, your smile never deterring. “Dance with me!”
JJ didn’t need to be told twice.
September by Earth, Wind, & Fire blared across the twisted beach, drunken teens belting out the lyrics even if they didn’t know all the words. Your heart was soaring amongst the stars, giggles emitting from you as you happily danced with JJ. All of your worries seemed to wash away the more you allowed yourself to get lost in the music, finding yourself truly enjoying the night.
JJ grabbed your hand and delicately spun you around, your laughs mixing together into the most wonderful sound you’d ever heard. He twirled you around again, pulling you against his chest with your back to him. Your breath hitched in your throat, feeling his warmth send sparks throughout your entire body. Your lips tweaked upwards, something inside of you igniting as you felt yourself be pulled back out.
Your eyes locked with JJ’s blue ones, his expression the same as your own. The music no longer mattered to either of you, your hearts beating in sync. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, JJ’s face getting closer and closer to your own. You didn’t even realize you were moving as well, your faces inches apart.
Your eyes briefly went to his lips and then to his eyes. JJ smirked, tilting his head. “You gonna make a move or what?” You scoffed and lightly pushed him away. He loudly laughed and grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him so you were chest to chest. “Why do you have to be so stubborn, huh?”
You innocently smiled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
JJ let out a breath, moving closer to you. “You’re something else.”
“And so are you.”
Within seconds your lips were firmly pressed to his, your eyes fluttering closed as euphoria took control of your body. Your hands went around his neck, one had cradling the nape of his neck while the other traveled into his hair. You accidentally pulled some out from under his bandana, but he didn’t seem to care. He wrapped his arms around your waist, smiling as you two finally broke apart just as the song ended; you two were undoubtedly in love.
There was no way you two were going to forget the 21st night of September.
———
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Text
Love Finds A Way
(sequel to “See You Again) (A Harry Hook x reader love story)
Part 5
The six waited for nightfall to sneak out of the dorms.  They snuck down to the limo shed and found the one that brought the vks from the Isle six months ago.  Their plan was simple; go there, get Mal, and come back in one piece.  Hadley prayed it would work but knowing the isle, it will throw them off somewhere.  
Hadley and Evie quickly pieced together “Isle-esque” clothing choices for Ben and Ruby.(I know the link is for Mal so just pretend).  Hadley had meticulously pinned and braided Ruby's hair up so it wouldn't cause any traveling issues on the isle if they had to make a quick get away.  Jay, Carlos, Evie and Hadley just had to raid their own closets to find outfits from the isle.  
They ran down the front steps of the castle.
“ Jay, keys, remote.” Ben said as he tossed Jay the items he was carrying.
“ Wait! Something wrong” Evie ran up to Ben.
The rest stared at Evie waiting for her to do something.
Evei reached up and pulled the beanie down farther over Ben's head.
“There. That's better.” Evie nodded.
“Shotgun!” A small voice yelled from the steps. 
Everyone's, except for Carlos, jaw dropped as they realized the voice came from Carlos's dog, Dude.
“No Dude, stay! The isle is way too dangerous.” Carlos reprimanded.
Dude groaned and sat down on the steps.
“ Did he just..” Jay started.
“ Talk? Yeah. I'll tell you later.” Carlos shook his head and the rest shrugged and got in the limo.
Jay and Carlos took the front seats and Evie, Hadley, Ben and Ruby took the back.
“Okay. Once we get there we park under the pier in the old garage. Got it?” Hadley stated
“ Got it.” 
It took 45 minutes to reach the old broken bridge that would lead them to the isle.  They crossed the golden magic bridge that appeared after Jay pressed the button.  Ruby sat by the window staring in awe of the golden swirls encircling the bridge as they passed.
When they parked in the old garage they draped the limo in sheets to disguise it.
Being back on the isle sent a chill down Hadley's spine.  If her father were to find our she was there, let's just say, all hell would break loose.
“It's really weird being back here” Evie said as Jay walked up to  the two of them.
He looked around “we'll get in and get out” he nodded.
The other two nodded as well.
Hadley hadn't noticed Ruby wasn't by her side until she saw her standing next to Ben at the large metal pipe that lead to the docks.
The vks froze as Being yelled “hey what's in here?” Into the pipe.  The sound echoed, making it louder than necessary.  They rushed over and pulled Ben and Ruby away.
“ You don't want to know.” Hadley said shaking her head.
“ Hey guys.” Carlos caught their attention. “ Keep it chill, all right?  The last thing we need is for our parents to find out were here” the other three nodded and they walked onward, Hadley tucked her hook under her shirt as she followed.
They walked through the Isle for a short while, going through alleyways and dark streets.  Multiple times they had to pull Ruby and Ben away from scammers and thieves looking for loot.  Jay and Carlos took been up front leading the girls through the maze of alleys.
As the rounded a corner two young children jumped out at Evie.  One began to fight with her as another came up behind her and grabbed her wallet out of her pocket.
Evie was able to grab both of their arms yelling at them to give it back.
She paused for a moment when she looked at the little kids faces; dirty and gaunt like they hadn't eaten in w eeks, scratches and bruises littered their small cheeks.  They looked at her with wide eyes and Evie's heart broke at the site. 
“ Go on take it.” Evie nodded releasing their arms.
The kids looked at her and giggled running off with the wallet. 
Evie stood up stairs and fixed her jacket before turning to catch up with the others.  
Jay, Hadley and Carlos had stopped when they heard Evie start yelling, they had yet to realize Ben and Ruby did not.  Evie sighed as she brushed past the others going after the two royals.
They caught up to them as they were being stared down by a man in pirate gear.
Jay rushed to their aid and made the guy back up into his corner.
Hadley and Evie pulled the two away from him, scolding them as they did.
“This isn't a parade it's the isle.” Evie said
“Keep your hands in your pocket unless your stealing.” Jay continued
“ You either slouch or strut.” Carlos added
“And never ever smile.” Evie finished
“Ok than-” Ben started but Hadley 
“No thank yous. And drop the please too.  Just… chill”
(Hadley)
Let me tell you something you can really trust Everybody's got a wicked side I know you think that you could never be like us Watch and learn so you can get it right
(all minus Ben and Ruby) You need to drag your feet You need to nod your head You need to lean back Slip through the cracks You need to not care
(Carlos) Uh, you need to not stare (Evie and Hadley)
You need a whole lot of help (You need to not be yourself)
(Evie) You wanna be cool? Let me show you how Need to break the rules I can show you how And once you catch this feeling Yeah, once you catch this feeling
(all)
You'll be chillin', chillin', oh Chillin' like a villain (chillin') Chillin' like a villain (chillin') Chillin' like a villain (hey) Chillin' like a, chillin' like a (hey), villain
(Evie) You draw attention when you act like that Let us teach you how to disappear You look like you would lose a fight to an alley cat( Hadley turned into an alley cat and lunged at the two) You gotta be wrong to get it right 'round here
(all) You need to watch your back You need to creep around You need to slide real smooth Don't make a sound And if you want it, take it And if you can't take it, break it If you care about your health
(Evie) Seriously, you need to not be yourself
(Hadley) You wanna be cool? Let me show you how Need to break the rules I can show you how And once you catch this feeling Yeah, once you catch this feeling
(all)
You'll be chillin', chillin', oh Chillin' like a villain (chillin') Chillin' like a villain (chillin') Chillin' like a
(Ben and Ruby) I really wanna be bad a lot And I'm giving it my best shot But it's hard being what I'm not
(Carlos) Well if you don't, you're gonna get us caught
(Evie) He's right we gotta stay low-key Now show us how bad you can be
(Ben and Ruby) Like this? (yeah, yeah, yeah) Like this? (yeah, yeah) Oh yeah, I think I got this Let's go, I'm ready to rock this And I ain't gonna thank you for your help I think I found the worst in myself
(Evie and Hadley) You wanna be cool? Let me show you how You don't break the rules I can show you how And once you catch this feeling Yeah, once you catch this feeling You'll be chillin', chillin', oh
(All) Chillin' like a villain (chillin') Chillin' like a villain (chillin') Chillin' like a villain (chillin') Chillin' like a villain (chillin') Chillin' like a villain
Ben and Ruby continued to strut up the alley way as the other stood back and watched.
Things went downhill when Ben bumped into someone.  The others panicked and rushed to their sides.  Hadley stood behind a frozen ruby, as she stared at Gil, Harry's pirate best friend. 
“Hey,man! Hey I know you.” Gil smiled at Ben.
“Uh, no. Don't know you either,man.” Ben said nonchalantly.
“ Uh, yeah you do. Come on, man. Really? Dude I'll give you a hint. My dad is quick, slick, and his neck… is incredibly thick.” He pointed to his own neck.  When no one answered Gill looked behind them and spotted a poster for Cotillion, graffitied with the pirate motto 'we ride with the tide’, pinned to the wall. 
It suddenly clicked for Gil when he pointed at Ben, then to the poster and back at Ben.
His jaw dropped when he figured it out.
“Oh! You're King Ben!” The others rushed to get Ben out of there as quickly as possible but Hadley had trouble moving Ruby from her spot where she stood, still frozen and staring at Gil.  
“Evie, Jay carlos. Hey guys!” Gil said as they left.
He turned to the two that still stood in front of him and froze as well when her looked at Ruby. Hadley freaked out when she couldn't move her.
“ H-hi.” Gil stammered “I'm Gil”
“R- Ruby” Gil lifted his hand for her to shake and Hadley's breath hitched when they did.  She let out a small squeak and tried to push Ruby away again.
“ Hadley?” Gil questioned to the blue haired girl next to ruby
Hadley slowly looked towards Gil and grimaced.
“ Hi Gil.” She said quietly.
“Oh Harry is going to be so happy that you're here!” Gil shrieked jumping up and down.  Hadley went wide eyed and tried to  push Ruby away again, this time it working and Hadley drug Ruby from the alley.
When they caught up to the others, they were waiting around the bottom of the staircase that led up to their hideout, with Ben missing. 
Evie looked around when she heard Hadley and Ruby approach.
“Where were you two?” Evie whispered.
“Long story” Hadley glanced at Ruby who still has a far off look in her eyes.
Evie nodded.
“ Did Ben go up?”
“Yeah.”
Just as Evie responded, Ben can down the metal steps.  His expression screamed sadness and he hit the last step alone.
“ So? Where's Mal?” Hadley asked.
“ She's not coming back” he sighed.
“ What?” Evie gasped as Ben walked past her. 
“ Let me talk to her.” Evie said as she walked over to the large horn shaped phone strapped to a beam.  
“M? Mal it's Evie. Let me just talk to you for a second.”
It was a few moments before a shrieking voice belonging to Mal yelled at them to go away.
“ Let's give her a couple hours to cool off.” Jay suggested.
Evie nodded.
“Hey guys. Where's Ben and Ruby?” The others looked around frantically when Carlos said that calling for Ben in the process.
Their shoulders slumped when a figure walked towards them from the dark alley.
“ Ben don't scare us like that” Hadley breathed up with a hand over her heart.
“ Don't scare you? But that's my specialty.” A thick Scottish accent rang through the alleyway. 
Haldey gasped as she recognized the voice immediately, having thought about if for the last six months.
“Harry.” Evie sighed shaking her head.
“ What have you done with Ben and Ruby?” Jay stepped in front of Hadley.
“Oh, uh, we nicked them, mmm-hmm. Yeah and if you want to see them again have Mal and Hadley come to the chip shop tonight... alone.  Uma wants.. a little visit.  And I need to have a chat with the little goddess over there” Harry sneered pointing this hook in Hadley's direction. Jay stepped even colder to Hadley, who stared wide eyed at the silver hook that was nearly in her face, nearly blocking her from Harry's view.
“ Awww, jay,” Harry pouted “ it seems like you lost your touch” He laughed.
Jay lunged at him but Hadley grabbed his arm stopping him from getting any closer, which made Harry laugh.
Harry turned around, barked at Carlos, and walked back down the alley the way he came, whistling a tune as he went.
The others rushed up the stairs to get Mal as Hadley stood there, in the alleyway watching Harry disappear. 
“I'm sorry Harry.” Hadley whispered sadly as she went to climb the steps.
So much for their plan going smoothly.
Hey guys its Friday again and you know what that means!! Part 5 is up!!!  I hope you liked it, if you did please like and comment for part 6!! As always you can read the illustrated version over on my Wattpad (@phelpsphan)!if you would like to be added to the tag list please message me!!
Summary: You would think that six months in Auradon would do any villain kid good.  Well, not Hadley.  After the events of the Coronation, Hadley's mood took a downward spiral; and for one reason, guilt.  She'd broken a promise and left her best friend on the Isle of the Lost.  How will she handle seeing him again when certain circumstances bring her back to the Isle? Will she finally tell him what she really feels?  
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in Descendants.  Hadley and the plot between her and Harry are mine. 
Tag list: @unded-bride
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crazy4dragons · 4 years
Text
Boxers
Astrid likes to wear Hiccup’s boxers. She’s also pregnant! Modern AU. I wrote this with my Like Heaven AU in mind, but really you could imagine any modern AU Hiccstrid here. Rated T for very mild sex references, but overall fluffy.
“Hey Astrid, did you steal my boxers again?” Hiccup frowned as he shuffled through his dresser drawer. “I only have one pair left.”
The blonde appeared and, leaning against the wall, crossed her arms across her chest. Her eyes glued to Hiccup’s bare torso, still wet after his shower, she pulled down the front of her sweats.
“Astrid!” Hiccup exclaimed, shaking his head as he recognized the hemline of his underwear. “And my favorite pair of sweats, too. Don’t you have your own clothes?”
“The bra is mine.” Astrid tugged on the strap of her sports bra.
“Clearly.” A lopsided grin appeared on his face.
“Don’t you like the aesthetic, though?” Astrid spun around.  As a strand of hair came loose from her messy bun, she tucked it behind her ear. “It’s comfy for my baby belly, too.” She rested a hand on her small baby bump.
“It sounds like you’re ready to go maternity clothes shopping.” Hiccup finished drying off and slipped on his last clean pair of boxers before approaching Astrid. Affectionately patting her belly, he pressed a kiss against her forehead. “What do you need? I’ll go with you if you want.”
Astrid laced her fingers with his. “Well babe, you need some more boxers and sweats. Seeing that you’ll need to share with me for another five months.” A playful smile spread across her lips. “Maybe more hoodies, too, for when it gets too cold to run around the house in just a bra.” She rested her chin on his shoulder and guided his arms around her waist.
“What, milady, you want me to hug you after you stole my underwear?” teased Hiccup, pulling her against his chest and tracing circles on her hip.
“Mmm, you know you love me.” Astrid returned the embrace.
“I do love you, Astrid.” He pressed a kiss into her hair and, grabbing her beneath the butt, lifted her up so she could straddle his waist.
“Hey,” laughed the blonde, winding her arms around his shoulders.
“Oh, hey,” Hiccup grinned, his gaze glued to her chest. “Damn, these boobs are growing by the day.”
“They are. Which reminds me, I need to get some new bras if we go shopping. As you can see, I’m falling out of all mine and bras are the one thing I can’t steal from you.”  
Hiccup carried Astrid to the bed and gently tossed her onto the mattress. “Here, you cozy up while I finish getting ready, then we’ll go out and look for some clothes. I’ll take you to breakfast first, too.” He pressed a kiss onto her lips and nuzzled his nose against hers. “We can also look for some baby things while we’re out.”
“Don’t you want to find out the gender before we start buying stuff?”
“We can get some things.” Hiccup shrugged. “Like blankets. And bottles. And a car seat.”
“We could. Or we could wait.” She grabbed Hiccup’s t-shirt from the night before and slipped it over her head. “I think you’re just getting excited to be a dad.”
Hiccup looked over at her and shook his head. “My shirt, too?”
“I love living with you.” She picked up a throw blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “It means I can raid your wardrobe anytime.”
“Well in that case…” Hiccup grabbed one of Astrid’s t-shirts from the closet and pulled it on.
Astrid laughed. “What are you doing? That looks like a crop top on you.”
“This is so tight.” Hiccup struggled to tug it back over his head. “And how are you supposed to take it off?”
“With all the times you’ve undressed me, you should know,” smirked the blonde.
Hiccup finally freed himself from the garment. “Damn.”
“So you can unhook my bras with only two fingers, but you can’t take off a t-shirt.”
“It’s easier to get your clothes off when they’re on you. Except for your skinny jeans. Those are a struggle every time.”
“Then you should be happy I’m wearing your sweats instead.” Astrid reclined against the pillows and grabbed her phone from the pocket of her — well, Hiccup’s — pants. “Okay, so let me make a list. We need more underwear and sweats for both of us, hoodies, bras for me, maybe some cute maternity dresses. Anything else?”
“The baby stuff.”
“I think the baby stuff should be a separate trip, hun. We can go to a baby store or something. After we find out the gender. And after we get our next paychecks.”
“When are we finding out the gender again?”
“August 5. So in a week and a half. You’re still coming with me to my appointment, right?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.” Hiccup pulled on a shirt and came to sit beside Astrid. “You wearing my clothes to go out?”
She nodded.
“Alright, then. Well, I’m ready to go whenever you are. Where do you wanna go for breakfast?”
“Let’s go to Berk’s.” Astrid hopped off the mattress and slipped into a pair of flip-flops. Berk’s Coffee was a little coffee shop down the street.
“And then where do you wanna shop? The mall?”
“Yeah, we can look at the mall. Oh, and while we’re there, we should go to Build-a-Bear and make a bear for our baby.”
“I thought you wanted to wait and find out the gender before we got baby stuff.”
“We can get two bears, a pink and a blue. We can use them at the gender reveal party. And then if we have a boy, we can give him the blue bear and save the pink for if our second is a girl, and if we have a girl, we can give her the pink bear and save the blue for if our second is a boy.”
“Do we have a date for this party yet?” Hiccup grabbed his Converse and a pair of socks.
“I’m thinking early September. Maybe Labor Day weekend.”
“Speaking of September, we need to decide what we’re doing for our anniversary.” After tying his shoes, Hiccup put his wallet in his pocket and took his keys from the top of the dresser. “It’ll be three years this year.”
“It feels like so much longer.”
“Okay, well three years of marriage, about four years of being a couple, and almost fourteen years of friendship.”
“Just think, if I hadn’t gone to sit with the awkward new boy at lunch, you wouldn’t be the father of my baby.” Astrid grabbed Hiccup’s hand as they walked to the front door.
“I take it you don’t regret marrying your best friend?” grinned Hiccup.
“Not at all. Especially when I get to wear his boxers.”
“Well, if you’re gonna be wearing all my clean boxers now, you can have extra laundry duty.”
“What? That’s so not fair.”
“It is, too.” He turned to kiss her lips. “I need underwear, too, you know.”
“Mmm, I don’t know about that. You look fine without it,” teased Astrid. “Now let’s go eat. I’m starving.”
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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years
Text
Something Just Like This - CH36
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.
Warnings: Fluff, a dash of angst
WC: 3386
SERIES MASTERLIST
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Dean never thought they could talk things out in such a short time. He thought it might take days but all it took was some cuddles and a warm bath. He should have known though, because Y/N ticks the same way he does. She’s simple, says what’s on her mind, asks the hard questions even if she doesn’t really want to know the answer. 
She’s shaking as he dries her off and carries her to the bed to help her dress in a fresh pair of pj pants, a shirt and one of his oversized sweater before he tucks her in. He threw a shirt over his own head, wears some fresh underwear and walks out to get her pills. He comes in, asks if she’s hungry but she wasn’t. It’s still a couple of hours until dinner time anyway. He slips into bed with her after, can’t really spoon her because of her ankle but he gets as close as possible, lays his head on her good shoulder and noses at her neck. 
He breathes in her scent and whispers, “You smell good again.”
Y/N laughs at that, “Thanks?”
He has to laugh too because he didn’t mean for it to come out like it did. “No, I mean, you smell like you again. I missed that.”
She has her hand in his hair, scratches his head and he can hear her steady heartbeat. 
“There’s something I want you to see.” He says, rolls on the bed and gets his phone off the charger, hands it to her wordlessly.
She takes it, a frown on her face.
“Look at it.” He urges her and she pushes at the button, making the phone light up in the dark.
It’s still the picture of her and Cuddles on his home screen. 
“Dean,” She whispers, “I—”
“0502” He says simply and she looks at him perplexed, frowns when she realizes what the numbers are for. 
She thumbs over the digits, punches in the code and when she unlocks it, she sees a picture of her which he once took while she was still sleeping. Hair a mess, mouth open. He thinks it’s cute but she wouldn’t agree. She doesn’t say anything though. 
“Open my call activities.” He whispers and she does, opens it and looks through it, he doesn’t have a lot of callers on there, so it’s not hard to see that there are 3,212 calls he made to her old number. 
Y/N has tears in her eyes and Dean brushes his thumb against her cheek before he goes on. He’s not going to stop now, wants to get it over with because he wants her to know. 
“Look at my messages.”
She thumbs around on his phone, and opens the texting app. Her hands fly to her mouth, covering it.
He nuzzles his nose against her shoulder as she looks through it. There are messages he sent to her old number, and it starts from the moment she walked out. She can’t possibly go through them all because the last one was only sent three days ago. He never stopped texting her, if sometimes only for him to say hi and that he’s missing her. 
She opens her mouth, “I’m—”
“—it’s okay.” He interrupts her.
He’s told her everything she wanted to know. Everything he thought was important anyway. And everything he told her was the truth either. He wished he knew about the FBI thing sooner though, but what good would that have been? If he could go back, he wouldn’t have changed a thing. Would still have loved her. Would have wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. 
Dean takes his phone from her hands and moves up a little, lays his head next to hers on the pillow instead, rests his forehead on her temple. “Are you staying?” His heart is beating fast as he asks the question, and is kind of prepared if she’d say no, although it would kill him but he’s not the one who wouldn’t let her go if that’s what she really wants. 
“If you want me to?” She asks, and it’s like music to his ears.
“Yeah,” He smiles, “I’d like that.”
 ***
 Dean’s in the living room making breakfast when Sam knocks at his door. 
Dean let’s Sam in and immediately Sam senses that something’s different, because he grins so fucking idiotic and it makes Dean nauseous. That big ass sasquatch always knows when something’s up.
“How did your night go, huh? Wink wink nudge nudge.”
“Sammy, stop being so fucking creepy.”
“I see a pair of women's shoes at the door that’s obviously not your size, Dean, of course I have to be creepy!”
Sam walks in further and takes the cup of coffee out of Dean’s hand before he steals a strip of bacon from a plate. “You’re making breakfast for two, too! Guess she performed really well, that you let her stay.”
“Sam,” Dean growls, it’s a warning.
“I hope you used protection.” Sam’s taking another mouthful of bacon and washes it down with the coffee, “I don’t think you shouldn’t let people sue you for child support.”
“Sammy!” Dean didn’t mean to be so loud, placing his fingers to his lips as a way to warn himself. And then, softer, he says, “Y/N’s here.”
“What?” Sam shouts.
“You’re being loud!” Dean hisses.
“Sorry, okay,” Sam says and then he hisses too, “What? Where did you find her?”
“She was in a car accident. Messed up her ankle real bad. Long story short—”
“—Too late.”
“Oh, haha — shut up.” Dean mocks grumpily and goes on, “I was still her emergency contact on her phone and that leads us here.”
“Okay, fine, she’s here but have you talked it through? I hate to see you sad again, man.”
Dean smirks, “Don’t worry we talked plenty. She explained everything and I had my closure. I feel good. Haven’t felt this good in what?”
“A year.” Sam says drily.
“Yeah. She needs a lawyer to sue that son of a bitch who crashed into her car. You in?”
“Sure, send me the details because I gotta go now,” Sam knocks at the counter twice, “Was only on the way to the office, wanted to see how you’re doing. Is Y/N staying?”
“I think so, why?”
“Bring her around for dinner?”
Dean grins, “Sure.”
“Oh, that Lambo? Yours?”
“Cas. You wanna drive it?” Dean lifts his eyebrows in question.
Sam’s sending him a bitchface. “Nah, my dick’s way too big.”
 ***
 A couple of days later, Dean got Sergei to check up on Y/N. The doctor still lives in one of his apartments, even though he too, got more money than he probably will need in his life. But Sergei’s always been a one weird creature of habit, maybe that’s why he didn’t want to move. And maybe it’s also because Dean lets him live here rent free. It’s the least he can do since Sergei helped save Y/N’s life.
She’s doing much better and they can now lower her pain meds intake. Which probably also means that she’s gonna be awake more and Dean considers that a win. It’s still going to be a little over five weeks until she can take her cast off, though.
Y/N’s workplace had called in to lay her off. She was a little sad about that. It’s not really like she needed the money because Dean has plenty. He could give her half and would still have more than enough left to last him a whole lifetime. He thinks it’s more because she really likes to work, likes to have a purpose in life and he gets that. He tried to cheer her up, telling her that if she wants, she can pick up drawing again and he can fund her own art gallery. His idea wasn’t well received. And by mentioning the art, she suddenly remembers the drawing she left on her bedside table and asked him where it was. He said it’s in a safe place because he doesn’t want to tell her yet, but the truth is, that he framed it and took it to the new house, hung it up right at the entrance so every time he would go in there, he’d see and be reminded what he’s doing it for. Never actually gave up on the idea of finding her again one day and showing her the house, even if at that time he wouldn’t be in the picture of her new future anymore.
One day, he’d tell her. But it’s still too early now.
Cas came by last night to exchange his Baby against the hideous Lamborghini. Thank fucking god because Dean was starting to feel very awkward driving a Lambo around town to do the simplest of things. Cas had asked to see Y/N but she was already sleeping. He promised to take her around once she’s better. Maybe Dean should start to make a list of all the people who want to see Y/N to keep track and not to miss anyone. 
Gabe called too, Sam had been talking, like the gossip girl he is, and Gabe is overly excited that she’s found. Gabe was the one who helped Dean search for her because he hated to see Dean in the state he was in. He said to Dean that it’s worse than after the time their camp had been destroyed in Afghanistan. Dean owes Gabe a lot and Gabe’s also the only one who still lives nearby. He never needed much and only took enough money from Dean to tie him over until he can find another job. More than money, Gabe needs distraction, he once told Dean. He doesn’t need money because money would bring him back to the habit that he wants to shake off. So, now, if Dean needs anything, he’ll contact Gabe. Gabe actually insists on it. 
Y/N comes out of the bedroom, wearing one of his shirts. Dean doesn’t know why she raids his side of the closet when she has enough clothes herself. But he doesn’t really mind. She’s wearing a skirt because it’s easier to get it over the cast. Dean absolutely hates how cute she looks with the oversized shirt and the frilly skirt. Hates it because it makes him want her in a way he doesn’t allow himself to want her. Not yet.
“I’m ready.” 
“Good.” Dean says and it came out grumpy but he’s really not. It’s just that her outfit does things to him and he absolutely hates that he likes it.
He takes the key and gives her a hand to walk to the door. She clutches one crutch on the other side. 
“Jesus, this will take forever.” He mutters under his breath and sweeps her off her feel, carries her over his shoulder while she’s holding the crutch.
“Dean!”
“I’m sorry, it’s just, I’d like to get back by tonight and not still be here by then.”
She’s still over his shoulder when they get into the elevator and he sees their reflection in the mirror. He has his hand on her thigh and her skirt almost rides up to her ass. He turns his gaze down, doesn’t look. He carries her over to his car and they get in.
They’re driving to her apartment, moving things back to his place. Because it’s final. She’s staying. She really fucking stays.
Yesterday morning when he brought her a coffee to bed she looked at him and just smiled. Nothing else, just a smile. And her smile lasted an awful long while until he had to ask what’s wrong.
“I’m staying.” She said. Nothing less, nothing more. But it’s enough for him to sit down and kiss her. He wanted to ask if she really meant it. If she really thought it through because if she stays this time, there’s no running away and he had made it clear that he’s not letting her go anyway. He didn’t ask though, didn’t feel the need to because he’s sure that she knows.
She lived in a rundown building. It's a studio apartment and it’s nothing like her last one. The staircase smells of piss and he’s sure that he saw some kids selling drugs at the corner of the street. It’s surely not a nice neighborhood. Her apartment is small, cozy and it’s a stark contrast to the outside world around the building. Still, it makes Dean mad. He’s angry that she had to live here for so long without him knowing. But he guesses that if the circumstances would have been different, if Dean would have come knocking, she wouldn’t have wanted to come home with him anyway. 
Sometimes, things need time to fall into place and letting her come back on her own might have been the best for the both of them.
He brought a big duffel because she said that there’s not a lot to take back anyway. There’s notebooks where she keeps her drawings. Some books, a laptop. She packs only the clothes she really likes and that’s it. It doesn’t even fill the whole duffel he brought with him. Gabe is going to come around to clear and throw things out sometimes later in the week.
Dean carries her and the duffel down the stairs, breathes relief that his Baby was still standing and waiting for him at the curb where he left her.
She rolls her eyes when she sees him talking to the car, telling Baby how happy he was to see her still here and ready to roll. 
“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad around here.” 
“Yeah, right. I saw someone exchanging his own grandma for drugs. It’s clearly not that bad.” Dean snorts and tells her to get in. 
They get home in time for dinner and pills. It’s only one pill now and it doesn’t make her mind as foggy as the ones before. She can even stay around and watch TV with him. He has his legs propped up on the coffee table, she’s leaning into him on the side and he wraps his arm around her. 
It’s easy, Dean thinks. He welcomes the good feeling back into his heart. 
One step at a time. 
She falls asleep against him, so Dean scoops her up and walks her to the bed. He tucks her in and slips in next to her. And he’s able to spoon her now, her ankle isn’t hurting as much anymore. He breathes in, the familiar scent makes him light headed. 
“Thank you.” She whispers.
“You’re welcome?” He replies but doesn’t really know for what. Not that it matters.
She chuckles at that and Dean listens as her breathing evens out.
 ***
 They’re almost at half time now and the skin underneath her cast starts to itch. She’s on the couch drawing when Dean walks in after he went out for errands. He looks over to see her poking around inside of her cast with a pencil.
“Stop that!” He shouts with his boss voice. It’s low and loud and she jumps up, almost dropping the pencil into the cast.
“It itches!” She whines and fucking pouts at him.
Dean unpacks the groceries, “I know but you’re gonna make it worse.”
Y/N lets out a frustrating groan and lets herself fall back on the sofa, her back hitting the leather with a thud. “This is ridiculous! This stupid cast is driving me nuts!”
“You’re driving me nuts!” Dean’s laughing. It’s easy how quick things progress with the two of them. How quickly they become comfortable with each other again. As if there was not a whole fucking year which separated them. He really missed that. Miss the silly arguments, the petty fights, miss someone who understands his humor.  
He pulls out a container of ice cream he just bought, gets out a spoon and walks over to where she's lying with her arm thrown dramatically over her face.
Dean sits down, digs into the ice cream — chocolate chip cookie dough, because it’s the one they both like and can compromise on. He’d rather have anything with peanut butter in it and she’s more of a coconut girl — and holds out a spoonful of ice cream out, waves it in front of her face. She still doesn’t see anything because of her arm.
“Y/N, come on, open your mouth.”
She doesn’t stir, “This better not be your dick, Dean, I’m angry.”
“What’s wrong with my dick?”
“It just doesn’t really make me feel better.”
Dean frowns and shoves the spoon into his own mouth, smacks his lips loudly as he eats it. “You contradict yourself because you used to say, and I quote, your dick always makes me feel so good.”
He actually wouldn’t know if it would still make her feel good because they haven’t done anything yet since she’s back. Just little kisses here and there and a lot of cuddling. Dean’s quite okay with that but it’s fucking hard to really stay away and he anticipates the day the cast will be off because maybe then she’ll be in the mood. He waited one year, what’s a couple of weeks longer, really. He just knows that it’ll be worth it and besides, he enjoys the thing they have as it is. It’s not just about sex, he once told Sam, and it’s still true.
She opens her eyes when Dean takes another spoonful. “What are you? Oh my god I want ice cream!” She sits up, and moves closer, pushing her head through his arm that’s holding the container, so she basically headlocks herself. 
“What? I just told you to open your mouth but you didn’t want to.”
“Please?”
“Yeah, beg for it.” Dean smirks, digs into the container, scoops up a spoonful.
She pouts then and it’s not fair that it still manages to make him weak. He feeds her the ice cream and she smirks around the spoon.
They’re sitting and eating together when she suddenly asks, “Can I ask you something? I need advice from a friend.”
He smiles because he likes that. “Sure.”
“So, you remember my ex-boyfriend?” She starts and the mention of the word ex hits him.
“Yeah, faintly.” He plays along.
“Yeah, do you think if I would try to get together with him again it would work out?”
Dean’s heart is racing stupidly fast. “I don’t know. Do you wanna?”
“I kind of do.”
“Does he want to?”
“I think so. He’s been taking care of me since my accident.”
Dean takes a spoonful of ice cream, an attempt to cool down his face. “Do you still love him?”
“I do.” It comes out fast. She didn’t even have to think about it. 
Okay, now his heart is doing the weird flip thing.
And then she adds, “I just don’t know if he still loves me like he used to. Or if he’ll be able to love me like that again. He’s been a great friend the last couple of weeks, though. I just don’t really know where we stand yet. I wanna try it again. Maybe if we try we could make it work? Taking one day at a time?”
Dean sets the ice cream down, pulls her against his chest, he’s sure she can feel how fast his heart is beating but he doesn’t even care. 
He kisses the top of her head, “Baby, I never stopped loving you. I would love you in any shape, any form, with any past and present, never doubt that.”
It’s the first time he dares to say baby in front of her so she’d hear it, didn’t feel like it’s his place when they still haven’t figured out what’s next. But being able to say it again feels good. It actually feels great. Like it’s a word only fitting for her, apart from his car, obviously.
She cries into his chest, and it’s good, apart from the crying of course. It’s good to feel her close again. It’s good to be able to work towards what they were. It’s good to work towards what they will be.
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CH37
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How about 34?
34. “Now I know where half my wardrobe went.”
- -
The thing is, Stiles was missing clothes.
It took him a long time to figure that out but when he did, he was pretty sure he was losing his mind. Because he wasn’t just missing a shirt or two; he was missing clothes. Like, lots of clothes. Like, a shirt every other day and sometimes a handful of his pants on the stray weekend.
By the time Stiles opened his closet and realized that he only had three shirts, two long sleeves, and three pairs of pants left, Stiles was sure something was going wrong. He wasn’t losing his mind. He most certainly wasn’t imagining anything.
Someone was stealing his clothes.
Stiles’s first assumption was Scott because the boy used to wear his t-shirts all the time when he came over for the weekend or from lacrosse practice. But Scott had been so busy with Allison lately, Stiles didn’t think he would’ve had the chance. 
Which really narrowed the list down to… well, Stiles didn’t really know who else. The betas maybe, but he didn’t think anyone of them would be caught dead wearing his clothes. He’d already learned first hand that Derek didn’t fit into any of his clothes and Peter… well, Stiles didn’t even want to think about that.
He’d kill the man for a second time if Peter was laying a clawed finger on any of his clothes.
Someone was stealing his clothes, Stiles knew that for sure. He just didn’t know who. Or why. And it was starting to drive him crazy.
When Derek ducked through his bedroom that night, Stiles was sitting cross-legged on his bed playing video games. He startled so hard when the man came swinging through his window that he collapsed sideways and went sprawling to the floor, a sharp screaming noise coming from his x-box as his character was slain by zombies.
Derek moved across the room slowly and gazed down at him, arching a brow. Stiles glowered right back up.
“Enjoying the view, Sourwolf?”
“What are you doing.”
“Oh, you know,” Stiles said, waving his video game controller through the air. “Sometimes I get a little surprised when angry-browed werewolves come streaking through my window like Shadow the Hedgehog. Seriously, dude, do you not know how to use a door? My dad’s going to walk in on us one day and suspect some very inappropriate things.”
Derek’s face turned bright red and he stepped back. Stiles pushed himself up with a groan and brushed off his bare chest before leveling the man with a flat glare.
“So, can I help you? Or did you just come here to scare me out of my wits and make me lose in my game? I was setting a new high score by the way.”
“... You’re not wearing any pants.”
“And astounding observation, Sherlock. Do you have anything else to say or can I return to kicking some zombie ass?”
“Stiles, you’re not wearing any clothes.”
Stiles looked at him for a long moment. Then he glanced back down at himself; bare-chested, no pants, just his super awesome Batman boxers. He thought maybe he should be a little embarrassed but Derek had raided his private space, not the other way around. Stiles was not embarrassed at all. 
“Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “So?”
“Why.”
“Cause someone keeps stealing my clothes.”
Derek’s eyes rounded. Stiles thought he looked a little shocked… and maybe a little scared? But that was Derek Hale, ladies and gentlemen. The man was an enigma. Stiles didn’t know what the hell was going on in his head half the time.
“Someone is stealing your clothes?”
“Yup,” Stiles said, launching himself back into bed. He restarted his game and continued to ignore the Alpha werewolf that was currently staring at him.
“And you’re not bothered by that?”
“Oh, I’m pissed,” Stiles said. “But it’s a Friday night and that means I’m not worrying about anything except setting a new high score in Call of Duty: Zombies this weekend. Now either go downstairs and get me a snack, or make yourself scarce, because you’re harshing my vibe, dude.”
Derek blinked at him a few times. Then he shuffled his feet and looked uncomfortable and Stiles paused his game, glancing sideways.
“Uh, Sourwolf? You good?”
“I’ll just go.”
Stiles raised an eyebrow. Derek started to turn away but then he glanced back, shrugging off his leather jacket and throwing it in Stiles’s face. Stiles squawked and his game made another screeching noise as he died for the second time that night.
“Dude, what the hell?”
“Wear that.”
“No!”
“Stiles,” Derek said, a bit of red in his eyes. “Wear that.”
Stiles glowered at him, but the man didn’t wait for another answer. Before Stiles could even say a word, Derek was ducking back out his window and, just like that, he was gone again. 
Stiles blinked at his open window for a moment before glancing back at the jacket in his lap. For a moment, he debated pulling it on, but then he only shrugged and went back to his game.
Werewolves, he thought, didn’t make sense. None of them.
Especially Derek Hale.
-
Long after Stiles had beat his game and his bedtime had come and gone, he was still awake. Stiles had been spending the past week taking exams and he was determined to enjoy his weekend for every second that he could.
So when Derek came ducking back through his window for the second time that night, Stiles wasn’t exactly taken off guard because he was asleep or anything. But he was taken off guard because what the hell. How did the man not know how to knock?
“Dude!” Stiles said, rammed against the headboard with his baseball bat gripped tightly in his hands. “Use the door, knock, come on!”
Derek shifted nervously and Stiles realized the man had something in his hands. He blinked at it a few times and then lowered his bat, hoping off his bed and crossing the room.
Derek held a plastic bag, he realized. One full of t-shirts and pants.
Not Stiles’s t-shirts or pants. Derek’s t-shirts and pants.
“Dude,” Stiles said, blinking at them. Slowly, he raised his eyes back up and Derek was trying very hard to look anywhere but his face. “Derek, I’m not sure what you want me to do with these, but I’m not trying to bankrupt you of your clothes either. We can’t both go running around Beacon Hills in our boxers.”
“They’re for you,” Derek said. “To wear.”
“Why.”
“Because, Stiles,” Derek said. It looked like he was gritting his teeth. “You aren’t wearing any clothes.”
Stiles blinked dumbly at him a few times. Then a slow smile crept across his face and he tilted his head, splaying one hand across his chest. His very bare chest. Derek’s face turned even brighter red. “Oh, Sourwolf. Are you trying to preserve my dignity?”
“Keep that up and you won’t have any more dignity to preserve.”
Stiles didn’t think that was an actual threat but his heart still leaped into his throat all the same. Derek’s face turned bright red as he seemed to hear his own words too, and he clenched his jaw, shoving the plastic bag into Stiles’s hands.
“Go put something on.”
“Dude,” Stiles said. “I’m not planning on leaving my house all weekend. The only person who might see my half-naked presence is my father and he saw me fully naked when I first came into this world, so I really don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
Derek actually looked like he could rip Stiles’s throat out. That also shouldn’t have made his heart skip a beat. “Stiles, wear the clothes.”
“I don’t wanna wear the clothes.”
“Wear the clothes.
“I don’t want to wear the clothes!”
Derek gave him a red-eyed look and Stiles’s stomach flipped. Before his lower body could decide to take on a life of its own, Stiles covered himself with the bag of clothes and turned, ducking out of the bedroom. 
He could only thank god his dad was on a shift, because he didn’t know how he’d even begin to explain any of this if the Sheriff had seen.
Five minutes later, Stiles came out in one of Derek’s giant henleys and sweatpants that were rolled around his waist three times. He stalked back to his room and threw the rest of Derek’s clothes onto his bed, giving the man a dark look.
“There, are you happy?”
Derek actually did look a little pleased.
“Now, I don’t know what kind of agenda this is backing, but I was trying to play some video games for the next twelve hours,” Stiles said, grabbing his console and launching himself back into bed. “As I let you know earlier, which was clearly ignored. Now, unless you want to join in, you can get your little werewolf ass back out the window or I’m going to take a baseball bat to your face.”
Derek blinked at him. Then he turned and pulled himself out the window, gone like Shadow the Hedgehog for the second time that day.
Stiles didn’t understand anything sometimes.
-
Two weeks later, Stiles finally decided it was time to stop eyeing Derek’s forgotten leather jacket on the edge of his bed and bring it back to the loft. He’d been tempted more than once to give it a wear, but he’d chickened out every time.
He was slightly terrified Derek would hunt him down rip his throat out for ever tainting his jacket. Or the man would get all weird again— like he had been for every day that led up until the one Stiles had convinced his dad to take him out clothes shopping.
When he showed up at the loft though, it was startling quiet. And seemingly empty.
Stiles poked around in each room until he plodded into Derek’s. Then he froze to see the man fast asleep in his bed, buried underneath a pile of blankets and…
No way.
Stiles blinked at the mound of his own clothes. His plaid t-shirts, an occasional pair of jeans. Stiles realized his mouth was hanging open and he closed it with a snap; and Derek startled awake so hard, this time it was the man rolling straight out of bed.
Stiles crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. 
Grey-green eyes flicked up and Derek looked like a deer caught in headlights. His eyes were round and his face was pale. Stiles thought it would be the most amusing thing he’d ever seen if not for the fact that the man was sleeping surrounded by his clothes.
His clothes.
This was going to be such a long conversation. 
“So,” Stiles said, leaning against the doorway and kind of enjoying the fear in Derek’s eyes. “I guess now I know where half my wardrobe went.”
Derek stayed frozen on the floor. Stiles smiled.
“Let’s have a talk, Sourwolf.”
- -
This one was so much fun! I just love the idea of sharing clothes/scents with Sterek, I dunno why. Thanks for the prompt, my friend!
(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your underpaid student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer
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The Fuck Is a Gender? (Fanfic)
A short fic in which BJ is introduced to the concept of gender and immediately hates it.
(ps. please don’t be afraid to correct me if I got terminology or feelings wrong, this is the first time I have written a non-binary character and do not want to offend anyone.)
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Nothing much came as a shock to the residents of the Deetz-Maitland household, not since the family the moved in was now cohabiting with a ghost couple and a demon from the Netherworld. They loved their strange little world, and while it was messy at times with all the different lives intersecting they thought it was perfect. It was their ordinary.  Adam hardly even blinked when Beetlejuice came down for breakfast that morning but instead of his typical suit and striped button-up shirt he was wearing a similarly styled dress. To be honest Adam hadn’t even noticed until Lydia sat down at the table and scolded Beetlejuice for stealing her last bottle of nail polish. 
“Beej, what’s with the new style?” he asked, buttering his toast with a knife
“My suit was dirty, plus haven’t worn this in a while so I figured why not give it a whirl. Why do you find it utterly captivating?”
“You wash your clothes?” Lydia teased, “Didn’t know you were even capable of working the washing machine.”
“Watch it Scarecrow, you’re tiny I could put you in it and turn on the spin cycle.”
“I’ll have you know I’ve tried that before! It won’t work if there’s a person inside…”
Beetlejuice got a glimmer in his eyes, “Wait wanna try it again after breakfast? I’m sure I can find out a way to make it work with you inside of it-”
“Sorry to interrupt what is bound to be a terrible terrible idea that will endanger Lydia’s wellbeing,” Barbara glared at the duo, “But what’s going on?”
“Not much honestly,” Beetlejuice stood back up from the table, the fabric of the skirt of his dress swaying along with his movements, “Adam, my dude, my bro. Join me.”
Adam blushed, “Sorry but dresses aren’t really my thing.”
“Why the hell not? They’re super freeing. To think, we are forced to cage our lower limbs in two cylinders when you can have them only in one, open cylinder. It is a liberating concept Adam. Clearly, Delia and Babs have got the right idea. Hell even little Deetz gets it”
Lydia beamed, “Viva la revolution! If wearing dresses is sticking it to society than sign me up right now.”
“I don’t know, I guess I just prefer to dress more masculine? Don’t get me wrong that dress looks great on you but I don’t think I’d be comfortable wearing on myself.”
Beetlejuice tilted his head, “The hell you mean more masculine?”
“Well typically guys don’t wear dresses like if you ever go in a baby store and go to the girl’s section it’s all dresses and pink and stuff but if you go over to the boy’s section it’s all overalls and blues.”
“Clothing doesn’t have a gender?”
“No you’re right you’re right.” Adam fumbled
“This should be good,” Lydia laughed as she drank the milk out of her cereal bowl before putting it in the sink
“Clothes don’t have a specific gender but like the way I choose to express..my gender...doesn’t include wearing a dress. I mean hey if yours does than absolutely go for it! People should dress however they want, I personally just don’t want to wear a dress.”
“What do you mean express my gender?” Beetlejuice asked
“So like I identify as a man, right? So I dress and present as a guy so that people refer to me like that.”
“Wait so how do you guys think of me? Like you guys percvieve me as one of two things? Are you forgetting that I am an actual demon, like wasn’t born human at all and can shapeshift? The hell am I supposed to be?”
“You could be non-binary?” Lydia suggested, “That’s kinda like when you don’t identify with either of the two typical genders. Some days you might dress like a guy, other days you can wear more feminine stuff but you have GOT to stop raiding my closet, I don’t care that you can shapeshift you cannot keep stealing my skirts and getting them dirty. I have to wear those for school you asshole.”
“So how does that sound to you?” Adam asked
“I mean that’s fine with me. I know you guys call me “he” all the time and I literally don’t care because I mean this whole gender thing is some human bullshit. Why the fuck does fabric have societal concepts attached to it?”
“Probably government propaganda.” Lydia shrugged, “So are we going to try and put me in the washing machine or….”
Barbara glared at her, “Absolutely not!”
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Text
“Good Ole Dacre Montgomery”
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Chapter 5: 'Heaven help a fool who falls in love'
All of this story is located on my wattpad please go check it out! :)
https://my.w.tt/W8SZdPa4H5
Thank you guys for all the love! :)
@dreamin-of-dacre
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Thursday morning, everyone was up and hustling around. A lot was going on today, they were filming some scenes and the rest of the cast was getting ready for the red carpet event on Friday. Myra wasn't needed on set until 2pm which was perfect, for the previous night her and Paisley finished off two bottles of wine. She was worn out and avoiding leaving bed at all cost. Myra sat up noticing Paisley still passed out on the pull out couch, snoring as usual.
Jane was out busy helping people get their outfits together for the event so Mary offered Myra the position to help her do the make up and effects needed for Dacre today. Her excitement was getting the worst of her, she rolled back and forth a few times before giving up and deciding to scroll through her phone. Facebook was the first thing she pulled up, she scrolled through the 19 notifications she had. Most of them being her grandmother tagging her in funny pictures, as she clicked through the different apps a text notification popped up on her phone.
Dacre: 'Mornin' :)  Getting an outfit for this event tomorrow and then I am all free if you wanna grab a bite to eat before we shoot!'
Myra: 'Morning! Paisley has been bugging me about seeing Joe again so you think they could tag along?'
Dacre: 'Of course, Joe did mention she was cute so maybe they'll hit it off! ;) Also this dress you got the other day, do I get a preview of it?'
Myra: 'No way you have to wait until tomorrow! :p'
Dacre: 'Just so you know I am rolling my eyes right now! I planned on leaving some shirt buttons undone for you! See you later! ;) '
Myra instantly started breathing heavily, accompanied by a racing pulse, she saw Paisley rise from her bed with a big smile. "How you feeling MJ?"
"Tired. How in the world did you convince me to drink two complete bottles of wine with you?" She groaned, rubbing her palm against her forehead. "You can never back down from a bet! It'll be the death of you someday!" Myra shook her head throwing a pillow threw her door way towards Paisley,  before flopping back in her bed in exhaustion. "Dacre wants us to get food with them later if you wanna go!"
"Them?" Paisley raised an eyebrow with curiosity. "Dacre and Joe, a little birdy might've told me he said you were cute!" Paisley stood frozen, "Joe-Joe Keery said I was cute.."
"Maybe." Myra shrugged, standing from her bed and walking to the fridge searching around for her iced coffee. "I need to find something cute to wear then, I had just planned on some leggings but this is serious jean stuff!" Paisley dug through the contents of her suit case searching for an outfit, while Myra poured the two of them a glass of ice coffee, dropping two ice cubes in each cup. Paisley always wore leggings no matter dress up or comfy clothes, so for her to want to wear jeans you knew it was serious.
"What about your closet? Anything in there I can steal?" Paisley sprinted to her bedroom pushing back the doors and diving in. "Go for it, just leave my outfit hung on the handle alone, that's my dress up outfit for set today!" Paisley pulled a long red sleeved baseball shirt, laughing. "I knew you brought this with you." She was talking about a shirt she had bought Myra right after season 2 came out and it instantly became Myra's go to bed shirt it was a large and very soft with the words 'Steve in the streets, Billy in the sheets' written across the front.  
"Please let me show Dacre this, he'll love it!" Myra swiftly took the T-shirt from her hand and threw it beside her bed. "No way in hell! Never!" She reached for her work attire hanging on the hanger and her small makeup bag setting beside her headboard. "I am going to get dressed you can raid my closet all you want and look for an outfit we just need to be leaving soon!" Paisley nodded in reply, continuing to search through her suitcase.
Myra was never one to wear such a professional outfit but this moment was important to her, she would be helping on set this time. Not just another person sitting behind the camera, she would be helping decide the make up and set up for this scene along side Mary.
Her dark red pants stopped right above her ankles the high waist of it meeting her black, cropped, wide strapped tank top, and a pair of matte black heels to match. Myra's curling iron put perfect small curls into the ends of her hair, she quickly sprayed them in place before joining Paisley in the living room. "Wow look at you, my best friend looks so fancy!" Myra struck a pose, laughing. "I feel so powerful in this!" She placed her hands on her hips, shaking them a little.
"You should, you look great! Also you ok if I wear your white lace top?" Paisley held up the top from the side of her closet. "Go for it, it'll look great on you!" Paisley instantly ripped off her bed shirt and replaced it with the new one. "Let me fix my hair and we can go!" She rushed into the bathroom closing the door behind her. Myra sat on the couch, taking out her phone to message Dacre.
Myra: 'Almost ready to go, waiting on Pais!'
Dacre: 'We are here waiting, see you soon ;)'
Paisley exited the bathroom buttoning her jeans, "I'm ready!" She reached for her phone and purse setting on the dining table. "Great, they're already there waiting for us!" Paisley swung the trailer door open with a bright smile, even though the air around her was gloomy and clouds above them grew dark.
The walk to the dinning area was filled with Myra telling Paisley her plans for this scene but her talking was cut short when Paisley mentioned the dreaded bed shirt again. "What are you going to do if you take this guy to your trailer and you two go to bed and he sees that shirt?" She bursted out into a gut wrenching laugh. "Well hopefully if that ever happens we aren't wearing clothes!" She interjected, mocking her voice. They both laugh harder, Paisley almost to the point of tears, when they approached the boys sitting at the table with questionable looks.
"Something funny?" Joe spoke, standing from his seat to greet Paisley. Myra shook her head covering her mouth to hide back anymore laughs. "Nothing it was just something funny we saw!" Paisley took in a deep breath, taking a seat next to Joe.
"Hi there, how's your morning going?" Dacre hung up his phone and smiled up to Myra, he patted the spot next to him and Myra obliged to his request. She noticed he looked a little off today and not his normal self. "It's good! How about you?" She adjusted her top hoping to receive a reaction from him. "Better now!" A forced smile grew across his face. "How was drinking last night?" Joe spoke to Myra and Paisley.
"Drinking? How did you-" Myra looked between the two boys with confusion. Dacre raised his phone to show her 6 different selfies of her and Paisley. "I assumed these selfies are the product of you two drinking!" Myra snatched his phone and looked through them. "Paisley, I don't remember this.." Paisley glanced over her shoulder laughing along. "I remember taking selfies I just didn't know you'd send them out!" Myra's stomach twisted in embarrassment, it had been awhile since she had drank that much so the entire night was just one big blur to her.
"I am sorry I sent those!" She handed the phone back over to Dacre, avoiding eye contact. "Don't be sorry they're cute!" He placed a hand on her leg, comforting her. Joe and Paisley were now off in their own little conversation when Dacre asked Myra. "Are you excited for this sauna scene?" Myra nodded, adjusting her posture. "I am, I've spent a lot of time thinking things over and I have some really good ideas!" She took a drink, curing the dryness that has occurred in her mouth. "I can't wait to see them!" He ran a hand across her back, tracing small patterns around her hips. Joe glanced over in a confused look mid-conversation before turning back to face Paisley.
An alarm Myra had set on her phone was going off alerting her it was time for her to head to set. She stood from the table they had been seated at thanking Dacre and Joe for inviting them. "I have got to get changed and I will meet you on set!" Dacre waved to Myra heading in the opposite direction. Joe gave Paisley a hug before thanking her for coming, "I have a couple scenes I am filming tonight, maybe if you find the time you two could stop by and watch?" Paisley glanced over towards Myra directing the question to her, she nodded. "Yeah we can stop by after I am done working on this scene! It would be nice to see the other story lines going on!"
"Great!," Joe spoke with excitement. "I will see you then,Pais!" He followed behind Dacre,quickly catching up to him. "Pais?," Myra raised a brow at her. "That's my nickname for you, he can't steal that!" Paisley pushed her in the direction of the studio. "It's a shortened version of my name, not sure that's really a nickname." She snickered.
They arrived on set, this time they would be filming at the same pool as before just inside the locker rooms. "I have never been in the guy's locker room before.." Paisley said walking around the bland looking area. "Nothing really special huh?" Myra shook her head, when Mary appeared through the doors. "No, nothing special except the faint smell of pee!" They all joined in laughing. "So M, you got any ideas for me?" Myra quickly takes out her notebook, flipping through a few notes she had scribbled down. "I'm thinking Billy is in the shower maybe after his shift, that could be how they lure him into the sauna with their CPR dummy." Mary nodded following along with her. "So a naked Billy?" She raised an eyebrow,smirking. Myra briskly shook her head. "No, no maybe he steps out and is getting dressed? The shirtless-ness will give the viewers a better look at his 'flayed' body and it will appeal to the Billy fans." She laughed glancing at Paisley shooting her a thumbs up. "I like it! Then we could do a complete flayed look head to toe on him." Myra's excitement grew knowing Mary liked her idea. "I will tell the special effects team and the director and let them know, when Dacre gets here you can inform him!"
Myra walked back to her seat next to Paisley, her smile still yet to have left her face. "That was great MJ, she loved it!" Paisley shook Myra's hand in excitement. The locker room door slammed behind someone coming inside. "Dacre!" Mary said, handing him over a pair of jeans. "Myra has a great idea so we are going to skip the lifeguard outfit and go right to you in the shower!" Dacre chuckled glancing in Myra's direction. "Your idea, huh?" He winked, taking the jeans from Mary's hand. "So Ms. Director explain to me what I am doing!" Myra rolled her eyes walking over to the shower stalls. "We can start here and the kids could start taunting, you head to your locker and start changing, then in nothing but jeans you go to find the kids that'll give us the ability to give you a full 'flayed' look once you get trapped inside the room..what do you think?" She stopped at the sauna door and turned to face him. "Well I think you're just trying to get me shirtless but I like it!" He glanced through the small sauna door then back to Myra.
"Maybe.." She smirked, before being interrupted by the filming crew filing in through the locker room doors. Dacre was taken to the side to discuss things with the director, the group of kids now joining them to be informed about the changes as well. "The director loved your idea, I think it's going to go great!" Mary gave her a confident smile. "Now we just need to get this boy to his boxers and into that shower so we can start filming!" Mary placed her fingers into her mouth, blowing out a high pitched whistle catching everyone's attention. "Dacre, let's go shower time!"
Myra laid her notes down in her empty chair next to Paisley, ignoring her adolescent faces. She turned, to be caught off guard by Dacre removing his shirt and jeans leaving him in a tan pair of fit boxers. "Get yourself in there let's go!" She joked, pushing him from behind into the small stall. Dacre turned the knob as the water quickly shot out onto the floor. "Get the wig soaked and we will fix your hair down in front of your face." Mary took out a small comb from her bag waiting for Dacre to follow her commands. "geez!" He quivered stepping into the cold water. "Mind flayer likes it cold, sorry!" Myra laughed,turning the warm water off completely.
Mary bushed down a few hairs in front of his face and laid his hair around his shoulders. "Ah perfect!" She stepped back looking at her finish project. "Ready whenever you guys are!" She spoke over to the director. He gave a thumbs up, moving the wheeled camera to face the shower. "Everyone in place!" He spoke, echoing through the small compacted area. Myra took her seat along with Mary and Paisley,holding onto the small tablet from before.
"Action!" He demanded from behind the camera. The camera slowly made it's way down the shower stalls, stopping at the end, turning in to see a soaking wet Dacre. The palms of his hands were placed against the shower wall, facing the water's cold stream. The water came to stop as Dacre turned to face the camera now peering in at him. The pieces of hair Mary had  fixed laid perfectly down his face. Myra sat up in her chair, feeling herself flush she couldn't look away her eyes were drawn to him, she fought to ignore how attractive it was.
The white towel was ripped off of the rack and Dacre walked to his locker, pushing the towel through his wet locks.  The camera now stood to his left side showing off his glistening body and the perfectly placed tattoo Mary had done this morning. The locker door was swung open while Dacre took out his jeans pulling them over his still damp legs.
He jumped a few times tugging them on, when a sudden clang caught his attention. "Pool is closed." He spoke lowly in the quiet room. More noises came from the other room,only louder this time. "Hey," He slammed the locker door closed racing around the set of lockers. "Do you hear me? The pool is closed!" He rapidly approached the locker room main door, slamming his hands against it. He shook at it a few more time, causing the lock that had now been placed on the other side, to jingle back and forth.
"Billy!" Mike's voice rang from the distance. Dacre quickly adverted his attention to the young boy. "Who's there?"
"Billy!" Mike spoke louder in a taunting voice. "Who's there?" Dacre asked in the same sing-song voice. Mike continued on, Dacre now charging through the locker room, ripping back shower curtains searching for the children. "You think this is funny,huh?" Dacre was on the prowl now, determined to find them. Mike's laughter now echoed throughout. "Billy come and find me!"
"I find you, it is your funeral." Dacre paced,slowly turning every corner. A teal door slowly closed while Mike spoke up again. "Come and get me. Come on!" Dacre came to face the sauna door and the figure of a boy stood in the small window, Mike's laughter continuing through out. "Got you!" Dacre says, just above a whisper. A loud cackle left him as he stepped towards the door, clapping his hands in success. "Come and get me, you piece of shit!" The voice spoke from the other side of the door.
A red CPR dummy, to Dacre's surprise, was placed on the other side of the sauna door. He stomped forward scooping it up by it's neck and slamming it to the ceiling of the small room. "Hey, behind you." A voice came from the small walkie-talkie attached with duct tape around the torso of the dummy. Dacre released the dummy from his grip,slamming it to the ground and turned to face, Millie who now stood behind him. "Hi!"
"Cut!" The director yelled. "Let's get Billy strapped up for the throwing!" Two men raced to Dacre's side putting a clear strap around his chest and hooking it to the back wall. "What's that for?" Paisley glanced across Myra over to Mary. "It's a device that will make him slam against the wall with Eleven's telekinesis, it attaches to the wall and it will pull him backwards at quick speeds. The wall behind him has quick break tile so as soon as he touches it they will shatter like he was thrown against them." Myra sat at the edge of her chair eager to see the contraption at work. "Everyone ready?" The director glanced around,everyone in a waiting position.  "Action!" Millie repeated her line, while the two men who had rushed on set, now stood to the side yanking on a device that pulled Dacre backwards against the sauna walls and then dropping him to the floor. Broken pieces of tile scattered all around him, Mike,Max,Lucas, and Will all rushed around the corner slamming the sauna door closed and putting a large lock around it.
Dacre continuously slammed his body against the door trying to get free. "Come one!" Mike spoke, hurrying Lucas to close the final lock. "Got it!" Lucas yelled as the two of them stepped away joining the others a few feet from the door. Dacre had a look of desperation on his face when he looked at the group of kids. "Max."
Max intensely starred back at him, before turning to Will. "Do it!" Will turned the dial all the way over to the hottest setting. "Max let me out of here!" Dacre slammed his fist against the small panel window. "Let me out!" He panted as the fog collected on the glass near his mouth. "You kids," Dacre looked over each of them. "You think this is funny? You kids think this is some kind of sick prank,huh?" He spat on the glass, out of rage. "You little shits think this is funny?" Max looked to Will with worry. "What is this? Open the door!" His voice deepened as the temperature around him raised. "Open the door!" He screamed with a powerful slam against the frame. "Open the door, open the goddamn door!" He now had his face smashed against the glass.
A loud thud came from the sauna as Dacre dropped to the ground. "We're at 220." Will turned to face the group after checking the thermometer at the side of the door. Dacre grunted more, before beginning to sob. "it's not my fault. It's not my fault,Max. I promise you it's not my fault." Max peered in through the glass seeing her step brother curled up on the floor, pleading. "What's not your fault, Billy?" She questioned him. Dacre had a look of fear, real genuine fear. "I've done things,Max. Really...bad things. I didn't mean to!" His lower lip trembles as he cries out. "He made me do it!"
"Who made you do it?" Max's concern grows for him. "I don't know, it's like a shadow." At this point Dacre's entire body was drenched in sweat, actual real sweat this time. Mary had informed Myra and Paisley that the sauna was actually on, not at that exact temperature but warm enough to make him sweat. "Like a giant shadow. Please,Max." Dacre cried harder now. "What did he make you do?"
"It's not my fault,okay? Max,please." Dacre laid his head on the wooden bench, begging and pleading. Max took a few deep blinks as tears rolled down her cheeks. "Please,believe me,Max, it's not my fault. I tried to stop him,okay? I did! Please believe me Max." Myra even felt herself tearing up, Dacre's acting was pulling on all of her heart strings. "Billy it's going to be okay."
Max placed a hand on the glass trying to comfort her brother. "Max, please!" The camera slowly moved in on Dacre's right hand reaching for a broken piece of tile that had been thrown under the bench.
"It's going to be ok. We want to help you! You just have to talk to us, okay?" The camera moved close up on the back of Will's neck, he ran his hand across it,he shuddered. "I feel him!" Will mumbled. "He's activated." Max still stood at the sauna door comforting Dacre. "Max, get away from the door." Mike yelled, becoming worried for his friend.
"What?" Max kept her eyes on her distraught brother lying on the floor. "Get away from the door!" Mike screamed from the top of his lungs. At that exact moment,Dacre lunged forward shattering the small glass window that stood between them. "Let me out you bitch, let me out!" Max ran from him fighting back the tears.
"I'll fucking gut you!" The rage in his voice, frightened the entire crew. Dacre pulled away the metal pole that had been shoved into the door handle and tugged on the chains trying to free himself.
"Let me out!" he roared as Lucas pulled back his slingshot aiming it in Dacre's direction. Dacre grunted as a make believe object slammed against forehead causing him to dramatically drop to the ground. "Max come on!" Lucas yelled, motioning her to join the rest of them. The lights flickered sporadically, the groups of kids looked around in absolute fear. Another camera moved to Dacre who was still lying on the tile ground, Dacre coughed up a small amount of water, staggering to get up off the floor.
"Cut! Make up get in there and touch up his face! Special effects get in there and touch up the green screen dots!" Mary took Myra's hand and rushed over to Dacre's side. "Hi there having fun?" She smiled down at him. "Oh a blast, you ready to do this?" Myra nodded reaching out for Mary's make up bag beginning to apply the stenciled make up to his cheeks and forehead. "You're doing a great job! Almost had me crying earlier!" Dacre shook his head laughing.
"It gets worse, trust me." He laid a hand on her thigh while she helped Mary cover his neck and chest with the stencils as well. Myra's entire body tensed up, trying to ignore his warm touch. Dacre brings his eyes up to meet hers, keeping a sweet smile. "After we are done here you have any plans,aside from taking Paisley to see Joe?" She shook her head, nothing came to mind.
"No plans, what did you have in mind?" Mary huffed a deep breath continuing to lay down the 'flayed' make up. "Well I was thinking a movie night?" Myra gave him a bright smile. "Sounds like a plan!" Myra patted his shoulder since they were now done with him. "Keep up the good work, Montgomery!" She strutted away joining Paisley back at their seats. "Dang, someone's cocky!" Paisley squealed.
"Here we go again guys!" The familiar voice spoke over everyone. "Action!" The camera moved up on Dacre pulling himself to his feet, grunting in agony the entire time. He fumbled around the room, reaching for the walls around him. A loud roar left his mouth as the camera came to face him,showing off the work Myra and Mary had just done.
Dacre charged at the door, slamming his shoulder into it. The chain jerked reaching it's breaking point, Dacre backed up slamming himself against it again. Eleven stood guarding her friends behind her arms. "He can't get out,can he?" Dacre repeatedly hit the door,screaming louder every time. "No way." Lucas shook his head in disbelief. "No way!" He repeated. One final charge at the door sent it flying off it's hinges, Dacre rolled to the ground, quickly coming to his feet to face Eleven.
A piece of equipment hung from a near by dumbbell, the equipment would help the dumbbell raise similar to Dacre being raised,Eleven raised her hand at the same time causing the weight to rise and pushed it against Dacre's chest slamming him against the brick walls. The metal bar was placed against Dacre's neck as he yelled out,successfully pushing it away from him. It was then thrown across the room, while Dacre snatched a hold of Eleven's hair pulling it back. Dacre looked over to the other terrified children, Max huddling behind Lucas, as he took Eleven's throat into his grip.
Eleven swung her arms gasping for air, another piece of equipment was strapped to Eleven now hoisting her up into the air as Dacre kept his grip around her throat. "No!" She repeatedly forced out, smacking his arm and kicking at him. Mike appeared out of nowhere with a foam fake piece of pipe he had been handed, swinging it into the back of Dacre's head. "Go to hell, you piece of shit!" Dacre dropped to his stomach, as Mike swung again he quickly spun around catching the bar before he could be struck by it again. He then threw the bar across the room, charging himself at Mike.
The equipment that had raised him up in the sauna was now raising him up again. Eleven held both her arms out, tears streaming down her face. Spit shot from Dacre's mouth as Eleven turned to face him and threw her arms in the opposite direction, the machine now pulling Dacre that same way. A green screened cushion had caught him, as Eleven clung to Mike, the two of them sliding down the wall to the cold concrete ground.
"Cut!" He shouted,catching everyone off guard. "That was incredible guys! Let's do a little touch ups and we will be finished with it!" Dacre was released from the machine and stood on the ground, examining the wounds he had received. "You doing ok?" Myra walked up, Paisley by her side. "Yeah just a couple little bumps and bruises, no where as bad as someone slamming my fingers in a door!" He raised a brow at Myra,laughing. "Are you going to hold that against me forever?" Myra flicked the small scratch on his forearm. "Probably! You two heading over to see Joe now?"
"Yes, yes,yes!" Paisley says eagerly under her breath. "We are heading there now! Just wanted to say good job and I will see you later!" Dacre waved as the two walked off the set and made their way to where Joe and the others would be filming.
Myra assumed it would be the ice cream shop, but they were actually filming in a small warehouse. Robin,Dustin, and Erica were all standing around waiting for their next directions, when Myra and Paisley walked up. "Hey!" Joe waved from inside the small area filled with boxes. Paisley waved back,as the two of them searched for empty sets. "Don't get too nervous, you did so good earlier don't screw up now!" Myra comforted Paisley, who was shaking with nervousness.
Joe was wearing his ice cream uniform from earlier, a little more messy but the shorts were still hiked up past his knees. While conversing with Robin, Joe pointed in Paisley's direction as if he was telling her about Paisley. "Let's get in places everyone so we can get started!" Joe moved to the corner of the room,sliding down to the floor and moving a box onto his lap. "Everyone ready? And action!" The camera moved in on the four of them.
"It fell on my groin!" Joe yelled trying to push the box away. "Dustin!" He strained,trying to get the curly haired boy's attention. "Get this off of me!" Dustin joined his side helping to lift off the box. "I can't move." Joe spoke out of breath.
"Is everyone ok?" Robin asked,rubbing a sore spot on the back of her head. "Yeah I am great, now that I know that Russians can't design elevators!" Joe shouted waving his arms around, he moved Dustin away from the front of a small panel on the wall,beginning to push buttons rapidly. "I think we have established that those buttons don't work."
"They're buttons. They have to do something!" Paisley giggled a little noticing the tuff of hair sticking out from under Joe's uniform top. Myra raised her hand to cover her mouth. "Shh!"
"Yeah if we had a keycard!" Robin pointed to the side of the panel, trying to explain to Joe. "A what?" He looked back in confusion.
"It's an electronic lock! Same as the loading dock door. If we don't have a keycard,- it won't operate,meaning-"
"We are stuck in here!" Dustin finished her sentence, Robin nodded in agreeance. "Just so you nerds are aware, I'm suppose to be spending the night at Tina's, and Tina always covers for me. But if I'm not home for Uncle Jack's party tomorrow and my mom finds out you three are responsible she's gonna hunt you down, one by one, and slit your throat!" Erica spoke in a meaningful tone.
"I don't care about Tina! Or Uncle Jack's party! Your mom isn't going to be able to find us if we're dead in a Russian elevator!" Joe said enraged, his hair moving around wildly as he talked. "Hey," Dustin cut him off, pointing to the ceiling. "What if we climbed out?" The camera panned to an air vent on the ceiling. The camera then moved rooms as they entered the air vent,putting them now on top of the elevator. "What were you saying about climbing?" They looked up to a large green screen above them.
Joe crawled back into the hole to start another scene while the camera moved positions. Paisley's eyes were glued to him and every move he made.
"Code red, I repeat,a code red! Does anyone copy? This is a code red,I repeat,a code red. This is a code red, I repeat, a code red. Does anyone copy? We are innocent children and we are trapped under Starcourt Mall." Dustin paced back and forth. "The Red Army has infiltrated Hawkins, and if we are found, they will torture and kill us."
"Hey," Joe popped his head up from the inside of the elevator. "Gotta take it easy on that thing. Gonna drain the battery!" He pulled himself up to join Dustin on top again. "The mall just opened." "So?" Joe shrugged. "So someone could be in range."
"What do you think, Petey the Mall Cop is gonna rappel down here?" Joe says in a dry reply. "All right, why are you such a cranky pants after getting to spend the night with Robin?" Dustin spoke in soft, barley audible tone. "Shh! Jesus Christ! Will you just give up on your creepy dream already?" Joe continues speaking in the same tone. "I heard you guys talking all night." Dustin responds.
"Yeah, we were trying to figure out a way to open up the door, while you children were asleep!" Joe now stepped out of the hole joining Dustin on top of the elevator shaft. "After eight hours,we're still exactly nowhere, which is, you know, probably just a little bit of the reason why I'm feeling just a tad cranky." Joe moved to the side of the room being handed a small water bottle under the camera, he unzipped his pants holding the water bottle in place.
Paisley and Myra shared an amused expression, trying not to laugh before looking back at the scene. "What are you doing?" Dustin stood behind him, in confusion. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm taking a leak. Look away." Joe pointed for Dustin to stare in another direction. "Look away!" He repeated again before squeezing the bottle pretending to 'relieve himself'
The stream of water was now pouring down the wall inside the elevator where Robin and Erica still sat. "Can you redirect your stream,please?" Robin yelled up at Joe. The stream now trailed over the wall to the opposite corner.
A loud clang from Erica echoed throughout the confined area. "Hey,hey! Be careful,careful,careful!" Robin rushed to her side taking the green canister from her grip. "We don't even know what that is."
"Exactly it could be useful." Erica reached out for it, Robin moving it away from her again. "Useful how?"
"We can survive down here a long time without food,but if the human body doesn't get water, it will die."
"I hate to break it to you, but this is not water."
"No, but it's a liquid,and if it comes down to me drinking that shit or dying of thirst, I drink." Erica quickly snapped the tube back from Robin. While a mechanical noise caught Robin's attention, she moved to the door pressing her ear against it.
"We have got company!"  Robin pushed her head through the small door, where Joe had just recently crawled through. "Cut!" A new voice yelled this time, the assistant director helping the Duffer brothers. "Great job! That's a wrap for today we will finish out the rest tomorrow!" Paisley checked the time on her phone it was almost 9pm. "Any news from Dacre?"
"No, but I am sure they either running scenes or he's getting out of that wig." Myra explains. The sound of squeaking sneakers approached the two of them,those sneakers belonging to Joe Keery. "Hiya!" Paisley smiled at him.
"I'm glad you two made it! How did the sauna scene go?" Paisley fumbled around on her words a little before pointing to Myra. "She did great, she had so many good ideas for them!" Joe gave a quick chuckle at her uneasy expression. "There's no need to be nervous, I'm just me!" He gave a wide grin, attempting to comfort her but only doing the complete opposite. "You wanna walk to the wardrobe trailer with me?" He smiled sweetly, taking a drink.  Paisley looks to Myra for an answer.
"Yes, of course go ahead! I'm going to head to Dacre's trailer and see if he's there!" Paisley hugs Myra goodbye before turning to face Joe. "Lead the way!" She smiles, taking his out reached hand. Myra watches the two of them walk away from her, she turns on her heels heading in the direction of Dacre's trailer.
Myra: 'Heading to your trailer, are you done yet? If not I can wait! :)'
A hour went by and still no reply from Dacre, she sat on the steps of his trailer eagerly waiting.
Myra: 'Waiting for you! Hope everything is ok! :)'
Maybe Dacre was still busy on set or he came home and instantly fell asleep, it was getting later and Paisley would be headed back to the trailer soon so she decided to make her way back as well. Myra scrolled through social media on her walk back noticing Dacre's instagram story post, it was a photo of his back after the Sauna incident, it had bruises and scratch marks all over. "He must still be in make up then getting cleaned up." Myra quietly mumbled to herself,opening up her trailer door to see Paisley laid out on the touch flipping through the channels on the small tv that sat on the counter.
Myra: 'It's getting late, I'm back at my trailer. I will see you tomorrow! :)'
"Anything good on?" Myra flopped down beside her on the couch. "Hey what happened to visiting Dacre? I assumed you would have stayed the night.." Myra shrugged laying her head on Paisley's shoulder. "Not sure..maybe he just got busy." Paisley patted her head,with a smile trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah,maybe he did. You wanna watch a movie?"
"No," Myra sits up crossing her legs. "I wanna know how things went with Joe!" She rocked back and forth a little waiting in anticipation.
"It went great!" Paisley bursts out. "He was so sweet and we had so much to talk about, plus his hands are so soft!" They burst out into laughter together. "I'm glad you two had great night!"
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mrs-hollandstan · 5 years
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Help Wanted || Tom Holland
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Warnings: prostitute character, mentions of sex, dickbag Harrison (or logical), talk of theft, talk of drugs, talk of STDs, talk of loaning money, language. 
Word Count: 4,816 
Author’s Note: So I wrote this to where it’s not reader insert, just because I feel that the story goes better without it being sort of personal and insertable, so the main character’s name is Skyler. This is the prostitute fic that I wrote, but don’t worry, it’s not super descriptive into the profession. Enjoy!
Italicized text means a flashback. 
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"Tom you can't help her. She'll take you for everything you have. She only acts like she wants you to help her because she knows you're worth something." Harrison had rambled in the middle of Tom's living room. "This is why I didn't tell you." "Why because you knew I'd give you an intellectual insight?" "She's not like that. When I come in she's in the shower. She wears my clothes and she definitely doesn't steal anything. She's a good person." "She's a prostitute Tom. You met her on a street corner. She's a whore." 
That conversation resounded in Tom's mind everytime he glanced up at his apartment building and counted the floors to find his living room light on. He never panicked. He gave her a key for a reason. Even if he was hesitant at first because of her... profession, he still trusted her. Riding the elevator up, he slowly walked down the hall to his door, sliding the key in the lock and waiting for it to click open. When it did, he walked inside, dropping his keys in the bowl and hanging his coat up. Walking just a few steps forward, the bathroom light clicked off and Skyler stepped out in a button up of Tom's, stopping in her tracks when she saw him at the end of the hall. "Hey." He smiled, "Hey." Swallowing, he walked towards her, "What was it this time?" She sighed and shrugged, "I didn't have enough money for rent. I knew that if I walked in that building, my landlord would have my ass." Tom nodded, leaning against the wall beside her, "If you need money-" "No. That'd just prove your friend's point." "He doesn't have to know." "But I know... I don't want you to give me money. You do more than enough." Smiling wider, Tom took his tongue between his teeth, "Offering you a shower and the oppurtunity to wear my clothes is enough?" Standing confused for just a moment, Skyler gave a shy smirk, "Yeah. I was uhh... I was actually going to make you dinner. I saw you had chicken and I was gonna try and make an asian dish for you." Tom nodded, "Sounds good." She nodded, playing with the ends of her hair, "I thought you might like it. I could... still make it if you want." Tom nodded, "Yeah, you can go start it while I take a shower. I'll be there in just a minute to help you." She nodded, "Yeah, okay. I'll uhh... I'll go start it. Do you know if you have honey?" Tom nodded, "Yeah I use it in my tea. It's in the cupboard." She nodded before they parted and Tom walked into the bathroom while Skyler walked off to the kitchen. Scowering through his cabinets, Skyler found what she was looking for before turning the burner on and adding the raw chicken, adding lemon juice and honey to the pan and then sugar, salt, and chicken broth. Standing at the counter, she sighed, crossing her arms. Deciding to leave the mixture on the stove, Skyler trails down the hall, finding Tom a pair of boxers and sweats before walking towards the bathroom, "I uhh... I'm not looking. I just thought I'd bring you some clothes." Tom hums, water hitting the shower floor, "Thanks." She nods, avoiding the glass door as she sets his clothes on the sink's counter. "I didn't know if you wanted a shirt. I didn't bring you one. I can if you want to." "No that's okay. I don't need a shirt. Although... it sounded like you were coming onto me just then." Smiling, she turned her back to him, "Definitely not. I'll be in the kitchen." Her heart pounded in her ears as she wrapped her mind around his statement. She'd never made a move in Tom's direction. She didn't view herself as worthy even if he put her on a pedestal. He'd met her just as Harrison reminded him, on a street corner. She'd been selling herself to make extra cash and Tom had eyes on her. Of course he thought she was beautiful. Most of the hookers in New York were before they sold themselves to businessmen cheating on their wives for drug money. But Tom could see that Skyler wasn't like that. Sure she'd sold herself for cash but it wasn't for drug money. She wasn't some sleazy whore that flaunted her body to anyone who pulled up against the curb. She'd been someone before. She'd been a student before, Tom knew that much. She was just trying to make ends meet and the only way to do it quick enough was give someone a good time for an hour. "Do that many men actually pay to have sex with you?" "What are you trying to say Tom, I'm not attractive enough for men to pay to have sex with me?" "No, no, no, that's not what I was saying. I just... you know how in those movies sometimes men pay just to have someone to talk to or... they pay and when the girl gets in the car, they like hack her up and bury her body in the desert? I was just wondering if it was like that. I was wondering if you've ever been paid to be a therapist." She shrugged, dipping a fry into the ketchup on her plate, "Yeah. But most guys are selfish and wanna get off. I've had... well ya know... everywhere." Tom smiled, but his cheeks turned a dark shade of pink at the mention of her sexual encounters. "But I'm... I'm clean. If that's... what you're thinking." "No, no, that's not what I was thinking. Even if you weren't, I don't... I don't plan on doing that sort of... stuff with you. You don't have to justify yourself to me. I just... I wanna offer you a place to stay. If you ever feel threatened or you just need some company that isn't using you for your... services, you're always welcome. You can have whatever's in my kitchen and you can wear stuff from my closet if you'd like. Use the shower, I just," sliding the spare key to his apartment across the table, Skyler glanced down at his hand, "I want you to have a second option no matter what. You're... there's just something about you that I can't... I can't wrap my mind around it but I like you. I wanna help you." "It smells good in here." Tom spoke up quietly as he entered the kitchen, still drying his hair. Skyler jumped, being broken from her thoughts. He paused, looking her over, "Sorry. Did I scare you?" She nodded, "Uh yeah. That's okay though. I just... I was just thinking." Taking a few steps forward, he stood beside her, "What were you thinkin about?" She swallowed, "Just... that first time you offered your help." He nodded, "Ahh... I see. Those were uhh... those were pretty awkward times." "Its still awkward Tom. I don't live here but I'm always here when you come home. It's ridiculous. I'm ridiculous." "Hey," stepping forward, Tom guided Skyler's eyes back to his with a finger under her chin, "hey you. You're not ridiculous darling. I gave you that key for this purpose. When I gave you that key, I told you you could take a shower and raid my closet. I told you you could have food. I did it because I know. I know that you felt this was your only other option. It was a dangerous decision, but you made it work. I gave you that key because I want you here." Staring up into his chocolate colored eyes, she nodded, looking away before she did anything reckless, "I know. I just don't want to overextend my stay." "You never will." Tom couldn't help but remember the feelings he felt the first time she called for help. She was sobbing and his heart broke and raced at the same time. The idea that she might be in danger scared the living hell out of him. The moment she ducked into his car, all he do could do as she rambled apologies was drag her into him, the rain water on her clothes sticking his clothes to him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I scared you." "Don't apologize to me." He scolded, taking her face in his hands, "Don't ever do that. Okay?" She nodded and for once in her life, she was grateful for being yelled at. She'd never been told not to do something. She'd never been put in her place before. Especially by a man. And now, here Tom was, holding her eyes in his so intently, she thought she might explode. Or cry. Or both. "Let's get you home love. Let's get you in some warm clothes." "This is good. What is it?" Tom spoke up, his eyes wandering Skyler's spaced out face. She blinked before glancing over at him, "Its sticky chinese lemon chicken. Its normally served with rice. If you want I could-" "I got it. It's the least I could do. You're already doing the chicken." Pulling the box from his cupboard, he started on the rice, turning to her while it cooked. His eyebrows knit together, "What's that look for?" She shook her head, looking at the floor, "Nothing. You're just... you're just really amazing. I can't believe I was blessed with someone like you." Stepping forward, he reached up to tuck hair behind her ear, running his fingers down to her chin, "I'm nothing special love. I'm human and I have a little bit of sympathy." "You don't have to though. Your friend doesn't." "And I know that. He fuels the fire." "But he's right. You don't owe me anything. You literally met me when I was whoreing myself out on a street corner." "Yeah, but look at you now. You don't feel comfortable with it. It was a way to make extra cash and you are an absolutely beautiful girl with an amazing ability and... you... dare I say screwed up. But you're trying. I know you are." Taking her hand, Tom held it in his own. Skyler could feel her heart skip a beat. She'd wanted, so badly. since the moment they first met, to be his. To be his forever. But he'd never asked and she'd never pushed. "I am trying. Its just... it's hard." "And I know that." "And look at me Tom. I'm pitiful. I'm wearing your fucking button up God dammit. I'm just-" "Skyler stop." Dragging her into his arms, tears slowly slipped down her cheeks as she laid her head against his bare shoulder. He rubbed his hands up and down her back, "You're not just anything. You're an amazing girl and anyone, no matter how close I am to them, not willing to see you for who you are on the inside versus a definition based on your profession isn't worth anyone's of our time. Do you understand me?" Leaning back, he collected her face in his hands. She nodded, feeling her heart swell more as he scolded her. Reaching up, she held his hands over his face, closing her eyes. Sighing, she opened her eyes, a tear running down her cheek. Tom reached up and swiped it away with his thumb, caressing her cheek. She swallowed as he pulled away. "Hell... you should just move in. I could get you a job. We could share-" "No. I'm not doing that to you. I'm not gonna sit here and tell you that I'm gonna move in with you because your friend doesn't trust me. You're still not completely convinced that you trust me. And playing the sympathy card, saying that you want me to move in, you're not... you're not thinking straight." Leaning on her hands on the counter, she sighed. She dropped to her elbows, tucking hair behind both of her ears, "I'm not worth all this. I'm not worth the time or the patience or the money, or this key." Pulling it from the pocket of his shirt, she sighed and set it on the counter, "I'm not worth the trouble of all of this. I'm not worth the friendships sacrificed or the time put into this relationship. I mean, I'll never be with you. I'm not worthy of that. I'm not worthy of the feeling of-" "What do you mean you'll never be with me?" Looking up from the pan of chicken, Tom's eyebrows knit together. Glancing up at him, Skyler paused mid sentence, her mouth closing, "I just mean.... we- we'll never..." "Hook up? I don't hook up with you because of your profession. I don't-" "No Tom, not hook up. That's not what I meant. I just meant... I'm not worthy of girlfriend material for you. You don't even like me. You're creeped out by the mention of sex. You think I'm gross and I-" "STOP! Skyler." She looked down at the floor as he scoffed, "Skyler, the entire reason you're allowed in my house is because I'm in love with you." Looking up with wide eyes, she pursed her lips, "What?" Tom smiled, nodding. "I've been into you the second you climbed in my car that first night. The second you looked at me I knew I wanted nothing more. All I've ever wanted was you and that's why I have such a hard time listening to you bag on yourself. I don't come onto you... I don't ask or offer sex because I know you hate it. You made that a profession and the thought of it disgusts you. I know that. I'm not disgusted by you. I really don't care. If you wanna show me bloodwork that tells me you're clean, by all means, you go out and you do it, but that doesn't determine how strong my feelings are for you. I've been in love with you for months now." Staring at each other for a moment, Skyler's heart pounded in her ears. She could feel the tears stinging her eyes again. "Really?" Tom didn't hesitate to nod, "Of course." She stood, frozen where she stood for a moment longer before throwing herself at him. Binding her arms around his neck, he wrapped his around her waist, "I don't care if we never have sex. It's not about that. I love you for what's on the inside." Holding his neck, she pulled back, staring into his genuine, vibrant eyes, "Why haven't you said anything?" He scoffed again, "Right, because you totally wanna be mine. Obviously now I know you do, but... all those times you and I passed in the hall it was kinda awkward. I figured you just... I dunno, needed a place to stay and you just saw me as a friend." "No. No. God Tom, I thought... I thought you'd never be into me. I'm so... I'm grateful for you and I can't imagine life without you. I want to be your forever. God I'd want nothing more." He smiled, "I want that too. I've wanted that for a long time." Smiling, Tom glanced down at her lips, holding her off of her feet. Taking hold of his cheeks, she nodded. He leaned in, her doing the same and in moments, their lips touched in a passionate, every nerve ending on fire, kiss. She held him close, her legs binding around his waist as he worked his lips against hers. Setting her on the counter, she whimpered, tangling her fingers in his hair. He trailed kisses down her neck, her breath coming out in pants and short puffs, her heart pounding out against his chest. He brushed her hair aside, kissing a goosebumped patch of hollowed skin just beside the column of her throat. He could smell his shampoo in her hair. He could smell his body wash across her torso as his nose ran up the underside of her jaw. "So this new girl. She cute?" "God, she's gorgeous Haz. She... she's brunette and she's got the softest hazel eyes and she just... she's perfect. She's what I want in life." Harrison smiled, "That's great man. She sounds good." "Yeah, she is mate." Clapping Tom on the shoulder, Harrison smiled, sipping his drink, "So what does she do? She have a job?" Tom was quick to nod, "Uhh yeah... yeah, she's got a job. Well... kinda." "What do you mean?" Glancing at his best friend over the rim of his tumbler, Harrison furrowed his brows. Tom sighed, running the tip of his index finger over his own glass, "She uhh," glancing around the nearly empty bar, he leaned back against the back of their booth, "she's a... she's a prostitute." If Harrison had anything in his mouth, he would've choked. "Come again?" Swallowing, Tom inhaled and slowly nodded, "I was driving around the night I met her. I parked on a curb. Needed to clear my head and I saw her on a corner across from me. She looked scared. And she was even more so when I approached her. She was like a little abused puppy. But I asked her if she'd like me to take her to get some coffee or some food and with a little bit of reasoning she agreed. So... I took her to a diner, paid for some food, talked to her for a couple hours and I took her home. Saw her a few days later and I... I slipped her my key. The spare. And I hope she uses it." "You gave her your spare key? You gave a PROSTITUTE your spare key?" Tom nodded, "Yeah. She's a real sweet girl and-" "Tom, you do realize the first chance she gets, she'll rob you blind." "She's not like that." "How do you know? She's a whore who sells her body for money. She's probably been with more men than you have fans." "Harrison, shut up. She's a sweet girl and she doesn't deserve this shit. If you ever are in the same room as her and you spout off with this bullshit, I'll kill you myself. I do what I want. You're not gonna tell me how to live my life and you're not gonna tell me who and who not to trust. I trust her. If I get fucked over, it's on me, but I trust her." Tom could feel his blood boil. He could feel his heart pump molten lava through his veins. Glancing up at his best friend, Harrison's eyes had gone dark. He raised his eyebrows and sighed, glancing up at the bar, "Whatever mate. I'll just kick back and tell you I told you so when she takes you for everything you're worth. Maybe then you'll take a look at one of these fine ladies in this bar just waiting to be claimed. But you do you. Your life. As is." "Hey... you okay?" Skyler's soft, hazel eyes careened Tom back to reality. He blinked the image of Harrison away, standing back, "Uhh yeah. Yeah, I'm alright. Just... just thinking about something." "Yeah, what's that?" "Its nothing," waving a hand between them as he turned the burner under the rice out, Tom glanced up at her, "it's nothing. It was just the first time I told Harrison about you. When I told him about approaching you. I remember being so enamoured by you and I couldn't wait to tell him, and I figured he'd be happy and he'd let it slide, and then he asked me what you did for a living. I let it slip and..." Skyler glanced at the floor as Tom shook his head, pulling the lid off the rice and stirring it, "He called me a whore." Tom scoffed in his nose, his eyebrows furrowing in distaste, "He had so much to say about a girl he'd never met that night. He thought I was a fool and he told me I could have anyone in that bar that I wanted and I was making a mistake but I knew..." looking back to Skyler, Tom nodded, "I knew I was making the right decision." "And you still think that?" Skyler cocked her head and smoothed his shirt down over her knees. Tom smiled down at the pot of rice. Nodding slowly, he looked up at her after a moment, "Yeah. Yeah I still think that." She giggled, something he didn't hear often after a moment when he took a step towards her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Tom slid Skyler across the counter, leaning in on his hands, "I will never, ever regret you. When I met you that first night, I saw how scared you were. I saw how you wanted out and when I offered you dinner, I could see how scared you were of me. I'm not even in the profession and I knew how dangerous it was getting in my car. I knew the second I offered I sounded like a serial killer, but..." letting Skyler run her fingers through his hair, he sighed, "I wanted you. As... creepy as that sounds ya know? I wanted you to be someone that I could confide in and vice versa. I knew I wanted to help someone and you were presented at the right moment. I wanted to help." "And you did. I was terrified. I'm always terrified when a new guy comes in. You never know what they're capable of and I could go missing. No one would care." "I would." She giggled again when he leaned in, her chin in his fingers and gently kissed her lips. She sighed, "You really... don't think you're... outta your depth at all?" She quizzed between kisses. Tom shook his head, drawing her lip back between his teeth, "Nope." Leaning back, she ran her thumb across his cheekbone. Cocking her head, she hummed in her throat, "I don't deserve you." Tilting his own head, he kissed the hill of her hand, his eyes locked in hers, "You don't know how much you're worth my sweet girl." She smiled, draping her wrists over Tom's shoulders. Stroking his hair back, she licked her lips and sat straight up, "Ask me out. I wanna actually be asked out by someone in my lifetime." Tom smiled, laughing through his nose, "Alright. Skyler, would you like to go on a date with me?" Her smile widened. She nodded, hair falling in her eyes, "Yes. Yeah Tom, I'll go out with you." Leaning in again, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips before pulling back completely, "So dinner." Hopping from the counter, she helped Tom plate the food before sitting across from him. Picking up his fork, he glanced up, "What?" She shook her head, "Nothing. I was just thinking that... I kinds wanna meet your friend." Tom took her hand when she held it out, "If you want him to burst into flames then yeah, sure. If you wanna meet him, I can set something up. I'm not telling you no. The idea scares me a little though." "Then you don't have to introduce us. I just... I want him to meet the whore that's stealing his best friend." Tom's smile widened, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles, "No one's stealing me from anyone. I want the both of you to get along. It'll make things a lot easier." She nodded, leaning on her other hand, "I want to get along with him to. I don't like the idea of your longtime best friend not liking me." "Me neither love." Squeezing her hand, Skyler leaned back, flashing him a smile that reminded him of the way she sat across from him in the diner the first night they met. Back then it was shy though. Reserved. Scared. "Hi darling." When she glanced up at Tom through curly brown locks, he could see the fear swimming in her beautiful hazel eyes. She took a hesitant step back and Tom held his hand out. "Sorry. Sorry, I- I didn't mean to spook you. I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that. I uhh... i was sitting in my car over there and i saw that you looked... hesitant. I saw you looked scared. I thought I'd come ask you if you were okay. Talk you up a little bit." That same hesitancy swam in her dark eyes. Her mouth hung open just the slightest. She closed it as she swallowed and nodded, pulling the small bag at her hip, higher onto her shoulder, "M'fine." Tom tucked his hands in his pockets and nodded, "Okay. Okay, yeah. I uhh... I just wanted to make sure. Are you... lost? I could help you find your way." She was weary to shake her head again. What would this pretty boy think of her if he knew she was a hooker? She shook her head firmly, "No I'm not lost." Tom cocked his head just the slightest, confusion written across his features. He hmphed in his throat, "Then why are you out here in the cold wearing a skirt and tank top. I mean... its the middle of winter and you must be cold. I-" The look on Tom's face was like a lightbulb when off in his head. His dark eyes met hers and his mouth hung open, his cheeks seemingly growing more pink in embarrassment, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were a uhh... I didn't know you were a prostitute. I mean... I don't mean that in a derogatory way I just, I didn't-" "No it's okay. It's okay, I am. I'm a... I am a prostitute." Skyler glanced down at her feet and Tom felt terrible. He didn't take a step forward, afraid of scaring her, "Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry okay? I didn't mean that. You can tell me to fuck off now. I deserve it, I don't blame you." Reaching up, she tucked hair behind her ear, "No it's okay. Seriously. I brought it on myself. I don't have a right to get upset about it. You're a nice guy. I'm not upset." Tom nodded, licking his lips and wondering how she wasn't freezing. Glancing up and down the street he cleared his throat, "Listen I uhh... I know this is sudden and uncalled for and now I don't deserve the company of a pretty girl like yourself, but I uhh... can I offer you some coffee or dinner? There's a diner down the road. They've got really got chicken tenders if you're interested. My treat." She quickly shook her head, "No I couldn't. I couldn't ask you to do that I-" "Please, it's the least I could do. I've snuck up on you, I've insulted you, hell, you probably deserve a lot more than what I'm offering for the way I've treated you the past two minutes we've somewhat known each other." His bright, exuberant smile made her heart race in her chest. He tucked his hands in his pockets, "Look, if I leave you out here I'll feel guilty as hell. Just... an hour with me, in public, I just don't want you to freeze to death out here. You can have whatever you want." The idea tugged at her brain, unravelling the ribbon around her heart that protected her from human emotions like her clients didn't like. Each time a breeze picked up, her knees threatened to give out. She was cold and the fear of climbing in his car, never to be heard from again was strong but he was offering a chance many people didn't. And she liked the idea of it. Tom was patient, looking her over as she glanced around them for a moment before she licked her lips and slowly nodded. Tom smiled, "There ya go. Come on. I've got my mind set on cherry pie and coffee now." Turning his back to her, he started towards his car, turning to make sure she followed. When he opened the passenger side door, she climbed in and waited for him, looking over as he climbed in beside her and turned the heater on. Pausing movement for just a moment, Tom reached in his pocket and pulled out money, counting a hundred dollars out and holding it over the center console, "I'm not paying you for sex or anything. I uhh... I want you to have it. It's probably not much but something." When she opened her mouth, Tom shook his head, "Its alright. You can take it. A hundred... isn't much, ya know? Just uhh... pretend it didn't happen." Taking it after a few moments, she nodded and tucked it into her clutch. Tom swallowed and pulled his car into drive,
"Oh uhh... by the way," looking to her, he smiled again, "I'm Tom. Tom Holland."
Taglist: @embrace-themagic @delicioustommy @spiderman-n @winters-beauty @smexylemony @lolabean1998
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isobel-thorm · 5 years
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35 / “is that my shirt?” :D
A coincidence turns out to be a curse and a blessing for Deputy Nic. 
Nicolette Raylan was getting extremely tired of John Fuckface Seed’s Wile E. Coyote bullshit.
He had won their game of cat and mouse fair and square twice now. A zig when she should’ve zagged and a bliss bullet to the collarbone was one thing. The Tree Incident was another. But this?
After she escaped her current predicament, she was going to help those PAs murder Guy Marvel. Forget about the hammer or screwdriver they had suggested, she was going to do it with her bare hands.
He had a fucking film set off in a heavily wooded area in the Valley.
Or, she had thought it was heavily wooded, except every tree in a twenty foot radius was fake, there was a disturbingly realistic rock wall as a backdrop, and like some sort of fucking idiot, she had walked right through it, thinking it was just part of the Valley.
Except it wasn’t. It was one of his sets. One of his abandoned sets. Because John had apparently taken it over, chased everyone away and set up traps. Stupid ones, like some cartoon rope noose thing that caught you around the leg and yanked up so you were dangling from a branch.
Who the fuck did that in reality?
Well, that’s what she got for responding to a distress call that sounded fishy to begin with. ‘Someone’ had seen a hiker fall off a cliff near the edge of the Valley and couldn’t get to them from ‘wherever they were.’
She could just make out the outline of a crash dummy a few feet away lodged behind a rock. Because of course John had the fucking money and too much time to just have one laying around for just such an occasion.
She had never been one for science in school, so she figured any more than ten minutes of hanging upside down was going to be an issue. She figured she had been hanging, contemplating life and its unfairness for five- it was time to make the fucking call. She lifted the radio from her belt, switched to the channel she hated that she knew by heart by then, and pressed the talk button. “Asshole,” she sighed into it, “Come get me,” she found herself requesting for the second time in a matter of months, because that was her life now, apparently.
“Deputy!” John purred in that fucking way of his after a few moments. “I’m a little… caught up at the moment. But I imagine you’re… not far off from that, either.”
She rolled her eyes at his snicker. “Oh, fuck you.”
“Ah-ah. Play nice or I won’t play hero.”
“ ‘Hero’ aint your type.”
“Neither is leaving an adversary I’m admittedly fond of to a very unpleasant death, and yet…”
“Just get here.”
“You’ll have to make it worth my while.”
“I’m not blowing you, if that’s what your asking.”
“You know what I’m asking, Deputy.”
She heaved a sigh. “Greed. And Pride, I guess: A couple of years after the whole dad fiasco I was a very angry teenager who was really, really angry at the world and for some reason my brain translated that into ‘steal those really expensive shoes in the mall.’ Made it out of the mall no problem, got home, decided I hated the shoes, kinda liked the whole adrenaline rush. Kept them as a trophy.”
“Would’ve have taken you for the thieving type.”
“Wasn’t. The stealing didn’t sell me, the adrenaline did. Took me a few years to realize it. Either way, there’s one confession. Come get me.”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
By some miracle, only Nicolette’s legs had started to go numb by the time she heard a car speed up the nearest road, said car’s door slamming shut, someone humming that stupid Vera Lynn song, and  then an appreciative whistle. With an annoying amount of effort she brought her arms back up in order to pin the back of her T-shirt up and closer to the waistband of her jeans. She tucked the end in to her shorts for good measure. “Our deal’s still good, Assh-”
“Such language,” was John’s only reply off to the side and behind her.
She suddenly jerked in place and could tell he had undone whatever the trap was. She had the brief moment to pray to whatever higher power was still around and rooting for her for the asshole not to catch her and give him the ego boost of the century before she fell and hit the ground hard- except it wasn’t the ground. It was a gym mat made to look like ground. Because fuck Guy Marvel.  It didn’t change the fact it hurt like Hell. She groaned. “Thanks for catching me,” she hissed.
John smirked. “I’m ‘not the hero type’, remember?”
Nicolette raised a certain finger and flinched against the sunlight streaming into her face- until it abruptly stopped and she kept her eyes shut, unwilling to see the satisfied smirk she was sure was on John’s face.
“Now, Depu- is that my shirt?”
She cracked one eye open and was at least rewarded with John’s face being the absolute picture of bafflement. It was the most welcome change yet.
But oh, right.
She glanced down at the Adderon logo on the T-shirt that it only just occurred to her she had taken from his Ranch when she had captured it a few weeks prior.
Great. Because obviously getting caught by the weird guy who had a Thing for her while apparently in his attire when he was probably the possessive type was just what she needed.
“In my defense I didn’t know it was yours. I just needed one that fit and was comfortable and not pretentious considering you tore my favorite one.”
John eyed her up and down like a meal. “ I’d offer to buy you a new one, but, that would err on the side of greed. It is, however, a very attractive look on you.”
“Pride and lust, dick.” If he was going to file every single thing she did under a sin, she’d damn well do the same. 
“Says the girl running around and playing hero in a skimpy little shorts and shirts. I mean, is that even practical for your profession?”
Nic was torn about the fact that he had the decency to say that and not ‘woman of your profession.’ The bag of dicks had some semblance of being a feminist. Go figure. “Got you distracted enough, didn’t it?”
“I’m always distracted by you, Deputy.”
“Oh fuck you, you line-using fuck.”
John sighed dramatically. “Must you always resort to name-calling?”
“For you? Every damn day.”
There was suddenly the sound of a helicopter approaching, and Nic panicked until the helicopter drifted into view he helicopter’s paintjob was littered with pink and grey and not the telltale tan of the enemy.
And then, even better, from the loudspeaker on the chopper:
“Hey, John! Addie Drubman here. Now, as much of a crime as it would be to riddle your pretty face and tight little bod with holes, that’s my and the rest of the county’s hero you’re ogling right now, so laying off would be greatly appreciated. Blood red ain’t Nikki’s color.”
John scoffed, sent an irritated look at the helicopter, then backed up. “This isn’t over.”
“Never is.”
“I’m waiting!” Addie called again.
John waved her off before giving Nic one last once over. He disappeared into the treeline after a while.
Addie landed Tulip, and Nic got inside. The pair waited a few more minutes to ensure he was gone, then took off.
“Where to, Darlin’?” Addie asked.
“That one’s Ranch. I just found a really stupid advantage.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll tell you about it on the way.”
A closet raid, one week and a stupid idea to walk along the river between John and Jacob’s regions when the latter was pissed later, Nicolette took an arrow to the shin and blacked out.
When she came to, she found herself in one of those damned chairs again and in front of the projector screen. The room was even dingier and dirtier than the last. Christ, was every single sibling upping the dramatics?
There was a set of footsteps from beside her, and then Jacob strolled into view. “What did I tell you… about being weak?” he began, all gravelly and intimidating, as he did- and then stopped short upon taking her appearance- and wardrobe in. He squinted, then looked back at her. “Is- is that John’s shirt?” he asked, easily an octave higher and probably the most confused-sounding he had been in years.
Oh, she was going to have fun with this. And if she had to play mindgames, as easily disprovable as they were, she was damn well going to do it. “Yes it is!” she announced, and offered her best convincing, was-just-up-to-no-good grin. “Wanna know how I got it?”
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askjaaryl · 5 years
Text
Episode #11: A Day Off
The boys have a day off before the expansion for Javier’s group begins.
Uh...warnings for a little bit of smoking and a little bit of sexy times (not at the same time).
Paul tensed up when he heard a noise, loud enough to wake him up. He immediately lunged over Aaron, going for his knife in a sleepy haze, but Aaron wrapped his arm around his waist to stop him.
“It’s Daryl,” Aaron breathed out against his his ear to calm down, “Deep breath, it’s just Daryl, he’s having a nightmare.”
Paul took a shaky breath and pulled away from him, turning to Daryl, who had his face smushed into a pillow, whimpers escaping his lips. Paul gently shook his shoulder, “Daryl...it’s okay...wake up,” he whispered.
Daryl woke up with a gasp, his hand grabbing Paul’s wrist for a moment before immediately letting him go when he realized who it was, “Sorry,” he breathed out immediately.
“It’s okay,” Paul said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, “You okay?”
“Sorry I woke ya,” Daryl said quietly.
“No, I’m glad you did,” Aaron agreed, “You wanna talk now?”
Daryl went silent for moment, looking at the two of them, before sighing, scrubbing his hand through his messy hair, “Fucked me up,” he groaned, “I...I knew he was out there now, knew it...but seein’ ‘im jus’ walkin’ in with Rick of all people,” he choked out, “My own damn brother.”
“Daryl, I’m going to hug you, okay?” Aaron asked, “Stop me if you need to.”
Daryl didn’t say anything, so Aaron moved forward, putting his arm around his chest, pulling him back. Daryl quickly whipped around, cuddling into Aaron’s chest and putting his face against his good shoulder. Aaron ran a hand through his tangled hair.
“It’s okay,” Paul told him quietly, rubbing Daryl’s back, wincing when he tensed slightly before he relaxed.
Daryl took a shaky breath and pulled away from Aaron, “Gonna have a fuckin’ panic attack, need some air,” he said, getting up from the bed and grabbing Paul’s lockbox from under the bed, “Paul, come with me,” he said before stalking out.
Paul watched after him in shock before looking back to Aaron.
“Keep an eye on him,” Aaron sighed, “He probably wants to smoke or something, he never does that around me.”
“Okay,” Paul said, leaning up to peck him on the lips before grabbing his dark red hoodie, “We won’t do anything too stupid.”
“Mhmm,” Aaron snorted, “Just watch him, okay?”
“Gotcha,” Paul said before hurrying after Daryl. He tripped a little, trying to put his shoes on as he went out the front door to where Daryl was sitting on the porch steps.
“Daryl, c’mon…” he huffed, sitting down, seeing Daryl already lighting up one of his joints, “I don’t have a lot of those and it’s not the answer to your problems.”
“Ain’t got no medication or counselors,” Daryl said simply, “S’medicinal, ain’t actually like I’m doin’ the hard stuff.”
Paul sighed and sat down beside him, looking out at the Hilltop. All the fires were out for the night, only a few torches for light for anyone who left their houses for whatever reason and so the guards could keep an eye on the place. Kal and Eduardo were leaning on the fence, on the night shift, talking to each other quietly, but that was the only movement Paul sense.
He put his head on Daryl’s shoulder when the joint was offered to him, taking it in his hands and inhaling deeply.
“We still need to talk more,” Paul said quietly, “With Aaron,” he added, “You can’t just...ignore your feelings by smoking a bunch of pot...trust me, I’ve tried,” he said, exhaling as he did, cuddling a little closer to shield himself from the bitter spring air.
Daryl put his arm around him, “Ain’t much left ta say,” he mumbled around the joint in his mouth, “Jus’ was weird seein’ ‘im with Rick was all,” he said, tightening his arm around him, “Seein’ ‘im here...with you an’ Aaron an’ Gracie...just breathin’ the same air,” he took a shaky inhale again, “He’s out there, Paul...jus’ livin’ ‘is life, despite everything...despite Abe...half blindin’ Glenn...almost killin’ Sasha,” he swallowed, burying his face in his shoulder, “I think about it all the time...drivin’ me insane, even when he ain’t tryin’,” he sighed and then sniffled, “Jus’ this once...don’t wanna be thinkin’ about everyone who’s out there, wantin’ to kill us, deep down. Just wanna…” he trailed off, shaking his head and taking another long drag.
Paul stared at him a moment before nodding, “Okay...we can talk about whatever you want...or not at all.”
Daryl just grunted, still smoking and staring out at the Hilltop, his free arm securely around Paul.
They sat like that for a while, Paul didn’t know how long. But eventually two of his joints were gone from his box and the sky was slightly lighter.
“Should go in, you’re gonna catch somethin’,” Daryl said, packing all Paul’s stuff back in the box before getting up, offering him a hand, “I wanna snack an’ go ta sleep anyways.”
“We have granola,” Paul said simply and sighed in frustration, “I miss chips.”
“Pizza was always me’ an Merle’s thing when we smoked,” Daryl laughed quietly, “I make a hell of a quesadilla too.”
“You’re making me miss one a.m. Taco Bell, knock it off,” Paul said, playfully shoving him as they walked back into the warm trailer.
Daryl just hummed, keeping an arm lazily around him as he raided the cabinets, finally settling one some homemade deer jerkey, pulling him towards the bedroom.
Aaron was asleep already, but there were two bottles of water set on the bedside table with a heart drawn on them both in marker.
Paul crawled into the bed first, immediately snuggling up to Aaron’s chest, moving him a little in the process and it must have woken up him.
“Hey, there,” Aaron said, wrapping his arm around him, “Didn’t think you were coming back.”
Daryl crawled in after him, wrapping his arms around Paul’s waist and cuddling up close to his back.
“Feeling better?” Aaron asked.
“Yeah,” Daryl mumbled against Paul’s shirt, already drifting off.
“He okay?” Aaron mouthed.
Paul just nodded, closing his eyes as well.
Aaron stared at the two for a moment before sighing, letting himself drift off as well for another couple of hours before Gracie would be up for school.
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When he did wake up a few hours later, it was because the sun from the blinds being slightly open hit his eyes. He moved a little, looking down at the two lying beside him. The more golden color in Paul’s hair was showing because of the amount of light on it, the blond undertones more obvious; he had his face buried between the pillow and Aaron’s shoulder, sleeping peacefully. Daryl was doing the same, but he had somehow fallen off all their pillows during the night and now had his entire head hidden under it, his arms tightly around Paul’s midsection.
Aaron smiled, leaning down and pressing a light kiss to Paul’s cheek before climbing over the two, then going and gently helping Daryl out from under the pillows, being sure not to wake him as he did.
The two quickly settled, Daryl huffing out a breath against Paul’s back before settling down again, snoring slightly.
Aaron just continued to smile, grabbing his prosthetic arm from where he’d tossed it on the couch and sat down, easily putting the straps on and bent his arm, making sure everything felt right before grabbing a t-shirt from the floor of their messy room...it might have been his or Daryl’s, definitely not Paul’s though. As much as they all enjoyed stealing clothes from each other, they usually ended up stretching out Paul’s stuff, resulting in complaints from the other man (“this is why we need another closet,” “this is why I only loan my clothes to Sasha, Enid, and Maggie!” and so on).
Aaron slowly walked out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. He went to work, opening the door slightly so Dog could come in and back out before starting on breakfast.
He’d gotten pretty good at using his new arm since the war with the Whisperers, though it had been a slow process at the beginning. With the help of Siddiq and Earl, they found the right fit for him that would be good for fighting but also good for raising an energetic little girl.
Aaron started the eggs on the pan, grabbing a few plates from the cabinet as he waited for the stove to completely heat up, leaning back on the counter after he put them out. He watched as Dog came back inside, carrying what looked like a dead rabbit.
Aaron winced, grabbing it from him before he could leave blood stains on the floor, “Thanks,” he said awkwardly, opting to put it out on the porch to see if Daryl wanted to use it for something. Daryl had gotten to the point where he had managed to teach Dog how to check his traps outside the walls.
Aaron walked back in and patted Dog’s head, “Breakfast time?” he asked him, already going to the storage closet where they kept his dog food and put some in his bowl before going to start on the eggs.
Just as he was about to finish the eggs and put them on the plate, he heard Gracie’s door open and close, before the bathroom door open and closed again. He glanced over to where Dog was lying on the couch, looking pretty pleased with himself.
A few moments later, Gracie wandered out, still in her pajamas, a baggy pink t-shirt and pajama pants that had been made by one of the clothing makers in the Kingdom.
“Morning, daddy,” Gracie said tiredly, walking over and hugging his leg.
Aaron smiled, putting the spatula down and putting his hand on her hair, “Morning, honey,” he said, fixing her hair, “I’m just about done with breakfast.”
Gracie didn’t say anything, just walked over to the couch and flopped down beside Dog, putting her head on his side and closing her eyes again.
Aaron smiled slightly and went back to cooking, finishing up the eggs and putting them on separate plates, putting them onto the table, “Here you go, I’m going to go wake up Daryl and Paul.”
“I can do it!” Gracie went to go to the door.
“Uh...no, your eggs will get cold and I need someone to watch Dog doesn’t get them,” Aaron said quickly before heading to the door once Gracie sat down.
He was really, really glad Gracie hadn’t ran in, because Paul was in Daryl’s lap. The sheets and blankets were pooled around his lower back, but Aaron could tell by their movements what was going on.
Aaron shut the door loudly, startling the two.
“Mornin’,” Daryl said, still not letting go of Paul, attacking his lips to his shoulder again.
“Was coming to tell you breakfast is done and Gracie’s awake,” Aaron said, moving behind Paul on the bed, “Dog can only distract her for so long...she almost walked in.”
“Sorry,” Paul said, but he didn’t look very sorry as he tilted his head back to lay it on Aaron’s shoulder, “Morning, dear.”
“Mmm,” Aaron just hummed, leaning down and pressing his lips against his, “Hurry up, okay?”
“Wanna join in?” Paul asked against his lips.
“Someone has to play responsible adult,” Aaron laughed breathlessly, though he felt the arousal pool in his stomach when he saw that Daryl’s dick was buried inside of Paul, his tight grip on Paul’s hips keeping them together.
“Not this early,” Paul mumbled against the side of his neck, “C’mon.”
Aaron quickly thought of the walkers outside of the gate...some of the grossest ones he’d seen over the years, to make himself not join in. He got up, causing Paul to fall back on the bed.
“Just hurry up,” Aaron laughed, watching Daryl climb on top of Paul, “Your eggs are getting cold.”
“Mmm...will do,” Paul said, turning back to Daryl as the door shut, “You heard the man...don’t want cold eggs.”
Daryl huffed out a laugh, thrusting a little harder but slower at the same time, making his movements deep.
“Fuck,” Paul gasped out, throwing his head back against the mattress, “How do you expect me to be quiet when you’re so…” he trailed off.
“M’so…?” Daryl prompted, looking amused.
“Fucking hot,” Paul groaned, running his hand through Daryl’s hair, grabbing on the back in a tight grip, “Daryl,” he gasped out when his boyfriend brushed over the bundle of nerves inside of him again, “Daryl, please.”
“Please what?” Daryl asked against his neck, “C’mon,” he said, starting to thrust faster and harder now, grabbing Paul’s free hand that wasn’t in his hair and pinning it down to the bed, using his other hand to get some leverage to move harder, “Cum for me, baby.”
Paul let out a moan, turning his head and quickly muffling it with the blanket on the bed. He spread his legs a little wider to accommodate Daryl, then wrapped them around his hips, meeting every thrust. He ended up biting down on the blanket when he felt Daryl cum inside of him, finding his own release not a moment later.
Paul released his grip on his hair, running his hand through it again to fix the mess. He laughed breathlessly, flopping back on the bed, “Fucking hell, Daryl.”
Daryl just hummed, grabbing a few tissues and starting to clean them up, “Want breakfast in bed?”
“Nah,” Paul sighed, “Gracie will get grumpy if I don’t do her hair for school...though we should sneak into the shower first, I think.”
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“I’m thinking I want another tattoo,” Paul said around a mouthful of his  breakfast, sitting beside Daryl, across from Gracie.
“You literally just got two,” Aaron laughed, “Do you want to be covered in permanent flowers?”
“You know me so well,” Paul smiled at him before grabbing his coffee and taking a long drink.
“Can I get a tattoo?” Gracie asked suddenly.
“No,” Aaron said immediately.
“Later,” Paul said at the same time.
Daryl snorted into his coffee, not saying anything.
“But you all have tattoos, I want one,” Gracie whined.
“When you’re older,” Aaron said, wiping his mouth on a napkin, “Like...thirty.”
“I got my first tattoo at sixteen,” Paul shrugged, “I’d say eighteen would be good, honestly. That’s when it used to be legal in most places...or younger, with parental consent.”
“But somehow ya got one at sixteen,” Daryl snorted.
“I’m very good at forging signatures, dear,” Paul smirked at him.
“But Uncle Carl has one,” Gracie whined.
“Carl has a tattoo he got to impress Enid...which she wasn’t even impressed by and they’re not together now,” Paul said simply, “Prime example of why you should think tattoos through at an age where you’re levelheaded...and most of the time, don’t get names.”
“Ya literally just got our names,” Daryl deadpanned.
“Yes, but I plan on being with you both for a long, long time,” Paul said, leaning over and kissing him.
“Gross,” Gracie whined.
Aaron rolled his eyes, “Gracie, how about you go get ready for school?”
“Noooo,” Gracie continued to whine, “You’re gonna be there.”
Paul snickered around his drink. Aaron was speaking in Gracie’s class today on self-defense, despite past injuries or disabilities...Gracie wasn’t too pleased about her dad playing teacher for the day.
“I promise to not embarrass you...much,” Aaron said, “I could do some of my impressions!”
Gracie just groaned, stalking back to her room.
“You better not embarrass her,” Paul laughed quietly, “I don’t want to hear the door slamming by my office every time she goes in there.”
“I won’t actually do it,” Aaron laughed, starting to clear the plates, “Plans for the day?”
“Our last day off before it’s time to start getting into the Frontier project,” Paul said simply, “So that means spring cleaning, weeding the garden, catching up on laundry, weapon inventory-”
Daryl groaned, putting his head against the table, similar to how Gracie had before.
“And Daryl agreed to spend the day with me,” Paul chirped.
“Oh, however did you get him to agree to that?” Aaron snorted, starting to wash the dishes.
“I’ll show you tonight,” Paul said, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist, kissing the back of his neck, “Or now, since you didn’t join us earlier.”
“Dry this,” Aaron said, handing him a plate and nodding to the rag on the counter.
Paul huffed, “You’re no fun,” he pouted, grabbing the dish from him.
“Says the guy spending the day off doin’ chores,” Daryl grumbled from the table, searching his pockets for a cigarette.
“Outside,” Paul said immediately, seeing what he was doing.
“Yeah, yeah,” Daryl grumbled, heading outside, Dog following him.
“He okay?” Aaron asked, “You two didn’t say much when you came back last night.”
“He’s fine,” Paul nodded, “It just effected him, I think...and he needed a moment. It’s not like we exactly have a Xanax a doctor can prescribe him,” he sighed, putting the dishes away.
“I know,” Aaron said, “I still think we need to look into medicinal herbs for anxiety and stuff...and look into getting a counselor trained. There’s so many cases of PTSD…” he trailed off.
“One big job at a time,” Paul said, kissing his cheek, “But I’ll bring it up to Maggie...it’s something we should think about.”
“Counseling worked well for me after I moved out of my mother’s house...my college counselor was paid with my tuition...it really helped me a lot,” Aaron nodded, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “Counseling ever work for you?”
“Never went,” Paul gave him a half shrug, “I just learned to deal with things...but it’s something I’m willing to try, given the chance,” he smiled weakly, “I’m going to go get dressed. Tell Gracie to have a good day at school...and good luck,” he said, going back to the bedroom quickly, “And don’t embarrass her!” he called again.
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josai · 7 years
Text
you’re now rockin with the champion ch 2
Read on AO3 here || Part 2 of 4 || Part 1 Part 3 Part 4
Summary: Oikawa can feel Iwaizumi watching him; he doesn’t need to look to see the way he’s following the length of his limbs with his eyes, or mapping out the slope of his neck. It’s enticing, in a way - yeah, Iwaizumi is probably used to fans throwing themselves at him, but Oikawa’s not that easy. Iwaizumi can look all he wants, but that’s all he’s giving him.
For now.
Oikawa’s generally a pretty good traveler.
He’s not bothered by long nights, or sleeping in whatever quiet corner that he can find. He’s pretty flexible, and can work his long limbs into some sort of comfortable position when all he gets to sit in is a small chair.
So flights don’t really bother him.
That is - except for the descent.
There’s just something about feeling the airplane tip and start flying downwards that really makes him nervous. Yeah, sure - he knows the pilots have lots of training, and it’s supposed to feel like this, but that knowledge doesn’t really help him when they’re free-falling from thousands of feet in the air at the speed of sound, with no set course and everyone screaming around him-
Okay, okay, that’s not really what’s happening, but that’s what it feels like.
So when the plane finally touches down at their location - Las Vegas, Nevada - Oikawa is very much looking forward to making their way to the hotel for some much-needed rest. He remembers his bag, and shuffles off the plane with the rest of the passengers, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. Everything is sore - all the standing up and maneuvering around other passengers didn’t help, apparently - and when he finally steps into the airport, he’s grateful to have some room.
Oikawa follows the signs to the baggage claim with ease. He knows Kuroo is fluent in English, so he must be directing Iwaizumi, as he finds the two of them there, looking groggy while they wait for their bags. As he approaches, Oikawa gives a small wave, which Kuroo returns with a smile. Iwaizumi just nods, looking sleepy. No, it’s not cute.
“There’s a cab waiting, as soon as we get our bags,” Kuroo tells him. “I’ve got to go to a few quick meetings, but you two are free to check in. Everything’s comped, so you can do whatever you want in the hotel.”
That gets a grin from Oikawa. “Sounds great! Don’t worry, Tetsu, I will.” He laughs, and Iwaizumi steps past him to grab his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He pauses, looking from Oikawa to the baggage claim, before pulling off Oikawa’s travel bag, too. Oikawa blinks, a little surprised, but takes it.
“Oh, thanks, Iwaizumi! I’m surprised you remembered this one was mine.” Oikawa adjusts the handle so that he can sling it over his shoulder.
“Really? How could I forget?” He looks down at the bag, which is teal and white, covered in tiny purple flowers. “Not to mention that it matches your other bag.” He nods at the smaller bag Oikawa is holding, which does have a matching pattern. He chooses to not mention the matching laptop sleeve and cosmetic bags that are tucked safely into his luggage.
“It’s easy to spot, right? My mom gave me the set a few years back on my birthday.”
“Yeah,” Iwaizumi huffs a laugh, “Easy to spot.”
Oikawa opens his mouth to retort, but Kuroo cuts him off. “Hey, the cab’s here. Let’s get moving.” He picks up his own suitcase (which Iwaizumi didn’t comment on, but it’s covered in tiny Neko Atsume cats. Playing favourites, are we, Iwaizumi?) and leads the way out of the airport, down to the pick-up lane, where a few cabs are already waiting. It’s dark, the only lights coming from the airport itself and street lights, and when Oikawa checks his phone, he sees the plane landed pretty much on time. It’s just after eleven.
They get to the hotel quickly, and Kuroo deals with checking them in and all of that. Oikawa pulls out his phone and checks the messages he’s got - a few from his friends, one from his only co-worker that he actually likes (congratulating him on his luck at being out of the office for the week), responding to them while they wait. Iwaizumi doesn’t check his phone, just shoving his hands in the pocket of his sweatpants, looking around the hotel with some interest.
Oikawa pockets his phone, deciding instead maybe starting out this whole talking thing would be good. “Have you been here before, Iwa-chan?”
Iwaizumi narrows his gaze. “What did you just call me?”
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa grins, “Have you fought here before?”
He looks like he wants to keep fighting it, but Iwaizumi lets the nickname slide, for now. “A few years ago, I came here for a fight, but it’s been a long time.”
Oikawa nods, “Are you nervous?”
Iwaizumi almost laughs. “No. There’s no use in getting nervous - in the ring, the second you start getting nervous and hesitating is the second that you lose.” He gets this serious look on his face, like he’s playing through a fight in his mind. Oikawa swallows.
“Okay, you’re checked in.” Kuroo walks over, and passes them both room keys. “We’re all on separate floors, of course but it doesn’t really matter. Iwaizumi’s room has been upgraded free of charge, so, if you two wanna go up there, when I get back I’ll just fill you in on the details of tomorrow.” He picks up his bag, “It’s looking like we’ll have one interview in the afternoon before prepping for the fight, but we need to work out the details.”
“Sure thing, Tetsu!” Oikawa nods, and heads over to the elevator. “Come on, Iwa-chan!”
Kuroo and Iwaizumi exchange a look, the latter looking almost exasperated. But, he walks over.
The elevator ride up is pretty quiet, as a few people shuffle in and out of the elevator around them. Iwaizumi’s room is pretty high up - on the twenty-first floor, he’s clearly a special guest. The elevator dings, and they make their way to the room. Iwaizumi throws open the door, stepping in and immediately kicking off his shoes.
“Old habits die hard, don’t they?” Oikawa laughs, and pulls his shoes off too, leaving them carefully by the door. Iwaizumi hums in response, as Oikawa looks around to survey the room. “Holy shit Iwa-chan, you’re just living in style, aren’t you?”
Iwaizumi half-turns to look at him, and he’s halfway out of his sweatshirt; he pauses, giving Oikawa an extended look at his well-defined abs, before pulling it the rest of the way off and letting his shirt fall down. He shrugs, and walks further into the hotel room, which is huge .
Upgraded is a bit of an understatement.
The hotel room itself is more like a small flat, really; there’s a small kitchen, attached to a living room with a huge television, presumably to watch all the biggest local events. Three doors lead off of the main room - the bathroom (with a tub and a shower, he’s already jealous of Iwaizumi), the bathroom, and a far bigger closet than Iwaizumi definitely needs. Oikawa whistles as he leaves his bags by the door, and follows Iwaizumi in.
“You hungry?” Iwaizumi asks, dropping himself onto the couch and grabbing the room service menu that’s perched on the coffee table. He scans it briefly, before passing it to Oikawa, who sits down on the other side of the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Order whatever you want. Kuroo’s paying.”
“Oh yeah, that’s a great idea.” He looks through the menu, picking out a few items for himself, which Iwaizumi promptly orders.
They don’t really talk, right away - the silence around them isn’t awkward, but more so relaxing, after that long plane ride. Now finally getting some time to rest, Oikawa stretches his long limbs out languidly, letting out a soft sigh of relief. He doesn’t miss the way that Iwaizumi’s eyes follow his movements, entranced.
Instead, they raid the mini-fridge once their food arrives, taking what they can get from the tiny bottles they’re provided. The alcohol loosens everything up; Oikawa ditches his sweater, and makes himself more comfortable on the couch. Iwaizumi laughs easier.
“Are you allowed to drink the night before a fight?” Oikawa asks, smirking, as he finishes off the contents of a small bottle of gin. He plucks a bottle out of Iwaizumi’s hands - quickly checks the label, and it’s some kind of Russian vodka he’s unfamiliar with - and finishes off the shot that’s left in it, enjoying the reaction he’s getting from Iwaizumi.
“As long as I don’t get hungover tomorrow, it’s fine.” He laughs, and finishes off the rest of his hamburger, picking at the sides he got with it. “My coach isn’t here to give me the gears anyway.” He picks around the couple of bottles they haven’t opened yet, but nothing looks appealing to him. It’s not really alcohol he’s wanting right now, anyway.
“That makes sense,” Oikawa nods, leaning back on the couch; he steals a few of Iwaizumi’s french fries as he settles on some pay-per-view for them to watch.
Or, well, not watch.
Oikawa can feel Iwaizumi watching him; he doesn’t need to look to see the way he’s following the length of his limbs with his eyes, or mapping out the slope of his neck. It’s enticing, in a way - yeah, Iwaizumi is probably used to fans throwing themselves at him, but Oikawa’s not that easy. Iwaizumi can look all he wants, but that’s all he’s giving him.
For now.
Oikawa’s not sure he’s ever felt more on edge while watching some shitty movie on television. He’s hyper-aware of Iwaizumi, and how much he wants him. Iwaizumi passes him the rest of his fries - a bribe, maybe? - and Oikawa takes them happily, feeling more content, now that his hunger is sated.
Well… his hunger for food, anyway.
Oikawa distracts himself from the atmosphere by looking through the hotel services offered. Obviously, everything catches his eye - there are a lot of spa services he’s going to have to make use of on their down-time, and a class tomorrow morning that catches his eye. “Iwa-chan, there’s a yoga class tomorrow morning. You should come with me.”
Iwaizumi inhales, “You do yoga?”
“Mhm. It’s pretty easy to learn.” He looks over, and throws him a pretty smile. “I’ll show you the ropes. Come on! It’ll be good to get limber for the match.”
It’s a good thing Kuroo knocks on the door all but five minutes later, and gives them the run-down for the next day, because Oikawa really needs that shower when he makes it back to his room.
“Iwa-chan, you need to relax a little more.”
Oikawa grins, putting a hand on his hip. He arrive early to the yoga class, and already chose a spot to set himself up. Iwaizumi, on the other hand, walks in just before it starts, and looks a little out of place in some black sweatpants, and a white sleeveless shirt. He shrugs his shoulders, but it looks a little bit forced. He’s clearly out of his element.
Or maybe he’s a little distracted by the fact that Oikawa’s chosen his favourite yoga outfit for the morning, a pair of yoga pants ( tight yoga pants) and a black and white crop top. Whatever.
“Relax a little. Come over here.” Oikawa nods over to the spot he’s chosen, and Iwaizumi takes a yoga mat, rolling it out and sitting down in it. “If your muscles are all tense, you’re gonna pull something, Iwa-chan.”
Iwaizumi lets out an annoyed groan at the teasing, but takes a breath and relaxes his shoulders. It’s much nicer to focus on the exposed view of Oikawa’s back, anyway.
“Good. Now, let’s - oh, it’s starting.” Oikawa turns over fully, to where he can get a better view of the instructor.
Oikawa’s been doing yoga for years, since he was a teenager. It helped keep him limber and agile back in his volleyball days, and now, he finds that it’s just so good for his overall health. He feels better when he’s keeping up with it.
He’s not sure how much Iwaizumi has done it - at least a little, maybe, he seems somewhat familiar with the routine, but he could just be faking it - but Oikawa doesn’t hold back. There’s no do whatever you can, for him. He starts off slow, with the opening sequence, but stretches himself into positions following the instructor.
Iwaizumi doesn’t do a whole hell of a lot. He’s a little distracted watching the arch of Oikawa’s back as he leans forward, stretching his back muscles, before switching to another position, this time showing off the curve of his thighs, and ass, and, yeah- fuck. Oikawa looks back just in time to catch Iwaizumi looking, a triumphant smirk making its way across his face.
He huffs, choosing to try his best and stretch out to reach his toes. “Don’t get too cocky Shittykawa, I could bench your weight and not break a sweat,” he grumbles, to which Oikawa laughs.
“Oh? I’d like to see that, Iwa-chan.”
Even Oikawa’s not sure if he’s serious or not.
It’s three hours later when the first round of afternoon interviews are over, and Oikawa can loosen his tie while they eat before Iwaizumi starts warming up and seriously getting ready for his fight.
Oikawa picks away at his fish as Iwaizumi picks a lean, easy meal to eat. He’s quiet, but Oikawa doesn’t really care - it was pretty clear that he didn’t enjoy the interviews, so he’s not going to force him to talk now.
“That went really well,” Kuroo chimes in, between bites of his meal, “How did you find it, Iwaizumi?”
He looks up from his vegetables before nodding. “It was good. Oikawa was fast but not too fast that it was hard to keep up.” Oikawa smiles at the assurance, nodding once.
“Good. That’s good. Tooru, it wasn’t too much either? There was only supposed to be one interviewer, not three.” Kuroo makes a face, obviously annoyed at the sudden change of plans.
“Oh, it was fine, Tetsu! I kept up just fine.” He laughs, “And plus, they all thought my accent was cute.” He grins, but Iwaizumi makes a face, caught somewhere between annoyed and amused. Oikawa turns his attention back to his food before he spends too much time staring.
“Good, that’s great.” Kuroo finishes the last of his food, chewing and then swallowing quickly; he always seems to be in a hurry, like he has a million things to do. “Alright, so Iwaizumi, you have the next two hours to start warming up, and whatever else you do to prepare. The gym is open. The first fights start then, and yours is at 7 o’clock. Okay?” Iwaizumi doesn’t answer, so Kuroo jabs him hard in the side - Iwaizumi grumbles, annoyed and turns over to Kuroo.
“Yes, yes, I got it. Seven.” Iwaizumi huffs, and tries to focus back on his food.
“Okay. Oikawa, you’ve got seats reserved for you. At the door, just give them your name, you’re on the list.”
“The list?” Oikawa grins, “Alright, do I need to be doing anything?”
Kuroo shakes his head, pulling out his phone. “No. There will be a short interview right after the fight - just a couple of minutes - so as soon as the fight is over, just walk to the back and meet up with Iwaizumi when the staff get to him.”
“Walk back?”
“Yeah, I mean - if you want to watch the fight that is.” Kuroo shrugs, “It’s your call. Either way, I gotta get going. You good?” Oikawa and Iwaizumi both nod, so Kuroo takes his leave; Iwaizumi and Oikawa both finish up quickly thereafter, and gather up their things.
“So, I guess…” Oikawa clears his throat, “Good luck, or whatever? I feel like I shouldn’t tell a fighter to ‘break a leg’.”
Iwaizumi snorts with laughter, “Yeah, good luck works. Thanks. I’ll see you in a bit, then.” He turns, and heads out the door, sparing one last look back before leaving.
Now, Oikawa considers getting a head-start on all the sights that he wants to see while in Vegas.
Of course, there’s the typical gambling, and drinking, and seeing a good show, or just getting completely sloshed while trying not to melt in the heat. He could do some shopping, or take a scenic walk - there’s a lot of options.
Instead, he decides to head back to the hotel, and get his - or rather, the company’s  - money’s worth of the spa services that they have to offer.
And, it’s pretty much the best couple of hundred dollars he’s not had to spend on himself.
The shower in the spa is heavenly, and he spends way too long in there - but he’s not paying for the water, so he really couldn’t care. He cleans every inch of himself with the fancy soaps they have to offer, and is very happy to walk out smelling clean and fresh. He’s relaxed and content by the time he gets a massage, followed by a manicure and pedicure. He’s pretty much in heaven. He makes a mental note to thank Kuroo for this, but he’s also pretty sure that he’s not going to remember by the time he sees him next.
It’s quiet, though - and he’s given a lot of time to think.
And the one thing that’s rattling around in his brain, even more than before, is how good it felt to have Iwaizumi watching him, this morning. He remembers the little view he got of his abs, too, and he’s pretty much in heaven.
He figures there’s no harm in fantasizing a little, mainly because he knows he’s not going to just let Iwaizumi have his way.
The thing is, he knows Iwaizumi has a reputation for sleeping around.
Of course he did some research when he found out who the fighter was (Okay, it was a ten-minute Google search in the airport), but one of the first things he found out was that. It’s fine, of course - it’s his life, he’s free to lead it as he pleases - but Oikawa’s not one to buy into that. Iwaizumi thinks he can just have?
Think again.
Oikawa finally makes his way up to his room, and into some clean clothes just before he has to leave. He’s going to be working, so he picks something that’s a little nicer - some slacks and a nice teal shirt - taking with him nothing but his wallet, and his phone. He’ll need it to get in contact with Kuroo, just in case he needs him for anything, and he’s figuring that after the match would be a great time to visit one of the many bars or clubs on the strip and get himself properly shit-faced drunk.
The gym is thankfully close to their hotel, and by the time Oikawa gets there, it’s already packed.
The scale of this event hadn’t really hit him until now, and it makes his blood run cold.
There are people everywhere - fans, screaming and trying to buy last-minute tickets, to no avail. There’s cameras, and security upon security. Some fighters walking in, basically having to fight their way through the crowd. It’s intense.
Oikawa’s nobody famous, but even he gets some attention, and he hears some comments as he tries to slip through - he’s attractive enough to be noticed, he knows that, but these are strangers, and it feels weird.
He gets to the door, where the Terminator stares him down. He looks at him hard, until Oikawa remembers -
“Oh, um, I’m an interpreter for one of the fighters. Tooru Oikawa?” He feels nervous, but, the guy (who is built like a brick shithouse, but apparently isn’t even a fighter ), nods and moves out of the way.
“Go ahead. Down the hall on your right, through the big swinging doors. Look for a very tall woman with short black hair, she’ll give you some ID.”
Oikawa nods quickly, and slips through the doors. He remembers the instructions, and finds the woman - she must be some sort of manager - who hands him a pre-made ID, featuring an awful picture Kuroo must have pulled from the depths of his social media, the bastard. Oikawa slips the lanyard around his neck, and goes to where he’s directed.
He’s honestly not very interested in watching the fights, but he figures he’ll at least watch Iwaizumi when he goes out. At the very least, he’s intrigued enough to want to see him rolling around half-naked, beating the shit out of some dude.
So when the time comes for Iwaizumi’s fight, Oikawa slips out of the back and into the arena.
The first thing that hits him is the noise .
It’s loud.
The stands are absolutely packed, people sitting all the way back in the nosebleeds, shouting and screaming for their fighters, mostly in English but some other languages in the mix. Some people are drinking, others are eating, but everyone’s eyes are on the ring.
Oikawa turns just to see the referee pulling apart two fighters, announcing the winner, and the crowd loses it.
He’s never seen such excitement. It’s intoxicating.
People are on their feet, and Oikawa is almost swept away in it; there’s screaming, and it’s all incoherent, but he can feel it , the energy and pure exhilaration just radiating from the ring, and from everyone who is here to enjoy it.
He’s not sure how he makes it to his seat, but when he does, he grabs on to the arm wrests and holds the fuck on, needing to ground himself and focus a little.
But he can’t, because Iwaizumi’s walking out now, opposite another fighter. He looks hyped up and ready - he’s just wearing a pair of black shorts, fixing a pair of black gloves onto his hands, but it’s clear that he’s focused. He’s ready. He’s in the zone.
And this time, Oikawa lets himself get swept away.
He can’t hear anything over the buzzing in his ears as the fight starts, and the movement is immediate.
Oikawa inhales a deep breath as the fighter lunges at Iwaizumi, but he’s too fast; he easily evades, jumping backwards, and is on top of him within a matter of seconds.
The first round is the fastest five minutes of Oikawa’s life.
Iwaizumi has a strong grip, the muscles in his arms trembling with effort as he holds his opponent down; he’s nearly knocked over as he tries to flip them, but Iwaizumi leverages himself out, and tightens his grip around the other fighter’s neck.
They both hold on, for dear life. Iwaizumi takes a punch to the face as his opponent struggles, and get his way out.
The fight starts over again, and Oikawa is on the edge of his seat.
It feels like seconds have passed when the buzzer goes, and both fighters have to take a step back, back to their own side of the ring.
Oikawa remembers how to breathe.
The second round brings a shift of momentum, Iwaizumi getting pinned by his opponent. He struggles, sweat dripping down his brow with effort, but it’s no easy feat; they’re evenly matched. Oikawa feels the adrenaline racing when Iwaizumi manages to trip him up, and flips them both over; they’re grappling, the fight becoming more desperate, more heated.
Oikawa’s not sure how he manages to survive this.
It’s engaging, it’s exciting, it’s enthralling - Oikawa can’t look away. Every fiber of his being is completely on edge as he feels a rush unlike anything he’s felt at all in a long time. He wants to grab it, hold it; cling to it.
Iwaizumi has his opponent down, in a tight hold; it looks impossible to break, and the crowd is absolutely losing it. The other fighter struggles, and manages to hit him once, before submitting.
Then he’s on his feet and screaming, pulled up by the person next to him, when Iwaizumi is announced as the winner; Iwaizumi looks out into the crowd, and Oikawa’s sure that he smiles when he sees that Oikawa’s watching.
Fuck.
Oikawa remembers Kuroo’s instructions, and forces his feet to move - his heart is hammering in his chest, and he bumps into a dozen people along the way, before flashing his identification and getting into the back. He stumbles, almost tripping over his own two feet but managing to follow the cameras and the sound of people to where Iwaizumi is.
He’s already got a few people with him, and cameras. Shit. Oikawa runs a hand through his hair, and takes a breath to calm his racing heart, but it doesn’t work.
Iwaizumi spots him, and quickly waves him over. Oikawa joins him, immediately falling into his role.
This gives him something to focus on, something to distract himself from what he just saw.
Most importantly, he can distract himself from how unbelievable he feels.
As soon as the interview is over, Iwaizumi turns to head back to the room where he can get changed. Not sure what to do with himself, Oikawa follows and waits for him. He’s just about ready to start tapping his foot when Iwaizumi walks out, now wearing a clean white shirt and a pair of black sweatpants (God, do any of his pants not ride tantalizingly low on his hips?) that makes Oikawa’s head spin even more. He’s wiped the blood from his face as best as he can, leaving only a couple of cuts, mainly one stretching across his right eyebrow.
Oikawa resists the urge to touch it.
Words are lost, but apparently Iwaizumi is ready to pick up some of the slack. “I saw you watching. Did you like the fight?”
Oikawa bites his lip, forcing himself to maintain eye contact and nod. “Yeah. It was pretty incredible.”
“You’ve never been to one before?” He asks, nodding down the hall to where they need to go. Oikawa follows, and shakes his head.
“No, never.” He inhales. “It was… intense.”
Iwaizumi hums, “Yeah, they are… especially your first.” He’s grinning, as he opens up the back door where the fighters can walk out in relative peace.
Oikawa just nods to show he’s listening, but doesn’t say much else or risk give away how flustered he really feels. He looks up to see Iwaizumi looking across the lot, to where the fans are gathered, still screaming and trying to get in. Oikawa’s about to open his mouth, but Iwaizumi beats him to it. “Let’s get back to the hotel. I really need a shower.”
Oikawa swallows thickly. “Yeah. Okay.”
The car ride back to the hotel is probably the most tense five-minute car ride of his life. The tension in the air is so thick he’s pretty sure you could cut it with a butter knife.
Iwaizumi’s watching him; he can feel his gaze, roaming around his body, but he can’t bring himself to look up and meet his eye. It’s annoying - he’s not some little submissive kitten that Iwaizumi can just bring back to his hotel room for a quick fuck after a fight.
Even though that option seems really, really appealing right now.
They make it back to the hotel room, and neither of them are talking yet. Oikawa slides into the elevator, and is grateful when they’re not the only two in there.
Except the other two occupants get off on the second floor. Great.
He presses the button for his floor, 6 , a few times, while he waits. The elevator dings, and the doors slide open.
Oikawa’s about to get out, but Iwaizumi puts a hand on his arm, voice low, and heavy.
“Want to come up with me?”
Oikawa stops, slowly, and lets the elevator doors close in front of him.
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