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henrike-does-writing-sometimes · 11 months

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When the Battle Is Over

A little drabble for my magical boys that I started months ago and only now finished lmao. Just lighthearted fluff of the boys recovering from a particularly tough battle :)

(I do wanna write some real angsty fluff with them some day, some good ol’ hurt comfort-)

Word count: 1826 Warnings: Mentions of injuries and blood, but nothing graphic Wip: The Divine Characters: Rei Yamada, Andie Calinao-Fox, Timothy Murphy, Nico Morales, Mike Chandler

: Taglist - @vacantgodling :

Let me know if you want to be added/removed !

"Blinding,"

"Penta,"

"Strike!"

The attack made the ache in their bodies stronger, but it did manage to nullify the monster. Dispelling whatever force had taken hold of it, returning it back to its original form; A pick-up truck, as innocent as can be. Like it hadn't tried to maul them just moments prior. The Celestial responsible for it had been detained and brought to the Sanctuary for questioning hours ago. Leaving the Champions to deal with whatever monsters he'd left behind. It had been quite a handful, more than they were used to in one night.

When the dust had settled, when they were sure the monster was gone, Rei collapsed. Finally able to breathe again. The cold air bit at his lungs, and at his bruises and cuts. Rei hissed as the pain made itself known once more. Especially when his bruised left hand was lightly pressed against the ground.

"Is everyone alive?" Nico called out with a tired voice.

"Barely." Timothy answered. The same could be said for Andie, who was leaning against the ravenette for support.

“That should’ve been the last one.” Mike said, eyes scanning the area still on high alert.

"It better have been the last one." Rei muttered. He looked around, only no able to notice how unfamiliar the scenery was. "Does anyone know where we are?"

"The old folk park, I think." Timothy said. "Looks way different during the night, though."

“We’re on the other side of the city?” Andie groaned.

"That light post monster sure could run." Nico hummed. He then shivered as a near freezing wind swept past. The cold temperature was another thing they’d barely noticed during the battle.

"My house is closest from here," Mike said, "And my parents aren't home for the night so that’s a plus. Though it’s still a bit of a walk to get there…"

“If I remember correctly, the should be a bus stop nearby.” Timothy noted, much to Rei’s disdain.

"No, please. Can we not?" he protested.

"Dude, you can barely stand." Andie pointed out. Rei was about to claim his collapse had nothing to do with his ability to stand, when Nico appeared before him— a hand stretched out for him and a warm smile on his lips. "It's okay, we'll cover you."

Rei pouted, because while he could stand just fine and hated people looking at him, he was also exhausted. Almost enough to bear the embarrassment. Almost. "Fine." he mumbled and took Nico's hands.

They walked to the bus stop in a herd, with Rei shielded in the middle. The youngest blocked out the event of getting on the bus. Truthfully, he blocked out most of the ride itself. Because of course there were a few people already seated. And of course they'd occasionally turned their heads to the back of the bus— catching glances of the technicolored, glowing, and very injured Champions. Thankfully no one did more than look, and soon the bus was driving away from them as Mike guided them back to his house. Using his last bit of power to shield them with an illusion as they made their way inside.

When the door closed behind them, the world outside was forgotten if only for the night. Monsters no longer had meaning, the coming day decades away. All that mattered as they piled into the spacious kitchen was then and there. And their several injuries.

It was then they de-transformed. Their Lumens appeared by their side, and immediately curled up on their shoulders. Them too exhausted after keeping the Wielders aetherium in control so it wouldn't kill them after the prolonged battle.

"I'm gonna get these wee yins some place more comfortable." Timothy said, carefully moving Oid into his arms before gathering up the rest of their Lumens.

"You can put them in my room," Mike said. "Third door to the left." Timothy gave a curt nod, and as he left he said, "Nico’s bleeding on the floor."

"Wha- shit!" indeed, blood was still running down the side of Nicos head, following the soft edge of his jaw to gather at his chin where it then dropped down onto the floor.

"How has that not dried yet?" Nico questioned out loud as he swiped the blood from his chin. He then went to do the same to the bleeding injury— stopped quickly by Mike catching his wrist in a soft yet stern grip. "Probably because you’ve been picking at it since we got on the bus." he grinned. He then cocked his head towards the sink. “I’ll help you get it cleaned up.”

“How’s your hand doing?” Andie asked and turned to Rei. The boy held it up, and they both scowled at the dark bruises and swelling. “Ok so, not good.”

“Yeah that sums it up.” Rei hummed, then shuddered as the scene flashed before his eyes. It had been the third monster they'd battled that night. By that point they'd started to be affected by the fatigue, which made them less careful, less organized. The monster had landed an easy blow on Rei, sending him to the ground. It had then pinned him down with a foot pressed against his wrist. Adding more and more pressure until Rei screamed. Bones threatening to break.

"Here." Andie said, snapping Rei back to reality. They pulled out two of the dining chairs, motioning for Rei to sit in one while they plopped down on the other. "Let's have a look at it."

Rei sat down and carefully held out his arm for the other boy. He winced at their touch, tensing up before quickly relaxing. Andie knew what they were doing, and Rei trusted them.

“Move your fingers?” they requested and Rei did. Slow and shaking. There was a dull ache in the limbs, static buzzing through him as he wiggled his fingers. It was painful, but bearable.

“Well it’s not broken,” Andie concluded with a smile. “Most likely a sprain. Mike, you wouldn't happen to have anything that could work as a wrist brace?"

"Yeah! I got a few spare ones from when I got carpal tunnel. They're in the bathroom cabinet. First door to the right."

"Thank you!" Andie smiled before leaving the room.

“Ouch!” Nico’s pained hiss caught Rei’s attention. The auburn-haired boy was sitting on the counter next to the sink with Mike by his side, quickly retracting the wet towel he’d been using to clean Nico’s wound with. “Sorry!” he apologized.

“It’s alright.” the other assured with a smile, and Mike went back to work.

"It doesn't too look too deep, thankfully." he assessed after a few more dabs.

"It’s also a lot smaller." Rei added, recalling how the injury had appeared the size of a saucer when they'd first seen it. Back when Nico had been unresponsive for a few dreadful minutes after having been thrown to the ground like a ragdoll. Had it not been for their uniforms, Rei was sure they’d all been long dead.

Mike hummed. “That’s good, but we’re going to need something stronger than water for this one either way. Hey, Andie? Can you bring-!”

“Disinfectant?” the boy filled in as they and Timothy appeared in the doorway. Both carrying anything and all they might need.

“Yes, thank you.” the older smiled as he took the bottle from Andie, who then turned to help Rei with the wrist brace.

They soon fell into a familiar flow, tending to their wounds in comforting silence. Bandages were wrapped around Mike's upper arm, where a blade had sliced into him. It wasn't deep, but it had gone much further than simply grazing his skin. It had bled a lot too, leaving a dark stain on his teal uniform shirt. Ice bags wrapped in towels were held to Timothy's injured nose. Nothing seemed to be broken, but it was still swollen and bruised, with dried scabs of blood from small cuts along the bridge. Colorful bandaids were littered over Andie's olive skin, hiding the many scrapes they'd gained that night.

When all physical injuries had been attended to, they moved into the living room— collapsing on the couch in one big pile.

“What time is it?” Nico asked, officially breaking the silence.

“03:17,” Andie read form their phone screen, and grinned. “Officially friday.”

“Don’t you have cheer practice on fridays?” Timothy said, and Andie’s grin fell immediately as they let out a groan. “Fuck me sideways.”

“You could always call in sick.” Rei suggested.

“Nah, I can’t do that to my team. Nationals are coming up and we've got a streak to keep up."

"Does it count as a streak if you've alternated second and third every year?" Mike questioned.

"Yes, duh. It's a top three streak, obviously."

"Oh but of course." Timothy drawled.

"Dude fuck off."

“Question,” Nico spoke up. “If you get first place two times in a row does that replace the top three streak or are you on two streaks?”

“Can you even be on two streaks at the same time?” Rei arched his brow.

“Yes you can,” Andie stated. “Just wait and see, dude.”

"I hope you get fourth this year."

"And I hope your stupid sweaters shrink in the wash." Andie quipped back at Timothy.

"Alright, alright," Nico chuckled and held his hand between the two. "Knock it off, you-" whatever he intended to say next was drowned out by a big yawn.

“Let me know when and I can drive you guys home.” Mike said, failing to fight off a yawn of his own.

“Mike, you’re half-asleep. You’re not driving anywhere tonight.” Timothy muttered.

“You also have an injured arm,” Nico pointed out, “I’ll just tell my parents I stayed over at Adora’s place or something. They don’t care.”

“If Nico’s staying then I’m not getting up either.” Andie declared.

"And besides, Rei is already asleep, so." Timothy's voice slurred slightly as he slowly began drifting off.

“Okay. But we’re getting up early tomorrow, so I don’t want to hear anyone complain more than usual.” Mike smiled as he leaned further back on the couch. The rest seattle down in similar fashion, and soon the whole house had drifted off to sleep.

Except for Rei. The youngest had been first to close his eyes, intending to fall asleep, but it took some time for him to get there. It always did. In the strange and timeless limbo of not quite awake, not quite asleep, he remained for a while. Listening to the gentle breathing of the others, and occasional snore from Nico. It would’ve startled him, had Rei not gotten used to it. Had he not found comfort in it, odd as it may be. But considering the odd group of people he trusted with his life, he shouldn’t be surprised.

When, some time later, a big yawn pried his mouth open to escape, it took his last bits of consciousness with it.

"Goodnight, guys." he mumbled gently.

#finally got around to make them a header lmao #writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #wip #drabble #wip drabble #wip : The Divine #magical boy

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cambria-writes · 2 years

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Happy Sunday Hellions! 🥰 I’m not like, entirely happy with how this one turned out, but like, lmao, when am I ever?? I hope you like it either way, and if you do, please let me know! I also proofread this about four times but if I’ve missed anything you can absolutely scream (politely) at me about it. I’m bilingual native in two languages and sometimes they kind of. Get cross-wired. So that happens. pairing: eddie munsonx reader rating: PG13 for now, each chapter rated individually warnings: guns (still), mention of past attempted suicide, mention of past self harm, so much swearing, criminal activities (breaking and entering), reader knows how to pick locks because we all pick up weird hobbies when we’re home alone and bored word count: 2,956

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖔𝖚𝖗: 𝔇𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔢

It’s a good thing your parents aren’t around for the weekend. You have no idea how you’d be able to explain the fact that people like Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are all around your table and aren’t trying to one-up or kill each other. Even having a tenuous understanding of the situation makes it strange to see all these kids in your house.

Everyone’s mostly quiet while waiting for Lucas and Max. The radio has remained suspiciously quiet for the past twenty minutes. You’re tempted to grab the damn thing yourself and see if Sinclair will respond, but just as you start to reach out across the table, the door bursts open.

“What the—be careful!” you call out, standing abruptly. You’re about to nag at the kids more when the redhead you assume is Max nearly runs over to the table.

“You,” she points at both you and Eddie. “Are in huge trouble. Someone already called the cops.”

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, turning around and running his hands through his hair.

“Double fuck,” you say, slumping back down in your chair. “How does anyone know—”

“Well for starters,” Max begins, putting her hands down on the table. “Eddie’s van’s still in front of his place, and one of the nosy old bats saw you,” she nods at you. “With a gun, yelling at Eddie to get in your car. That’s probably the worst look for you.”

Eddie groans and slams his hand against the nearest wall. Max is right—though it felt like the safer option to take the gun out just in case, you hadn’t even thought of the possibility that someone would see you and misinterpret the situation. Not that it can be helped; how the hell else is anyone supposed to interpret what they saw?

“Do you know if they found—if they saw...” You try to ask, biting at your thumbnail.

“No body reported last we heard,” Lucas answers. “But if someone called the cops, the first place they’re gonna check is the trailer, so they’re gonna see her sooner or later.”

Steve and Dustin immediately start picking up bags and packing up the walkie.

“You gotta get out of here,” Steve says, throwing your duffel bag at you, which you barely mange to catch. “They’re gonna be barging through your front door in no time, and you cannot be here when they do.”

“Where are they even gonna go? And how? It’s not like she can use her car, they’re just gonna track it down wherever it is,” Mike says, waving at you and Eddie, though Steve is already at the door and pulling it open.

“Right now that doesn’t matter! We all need to get the hell out of here!”

The plan isn’t really so much of a plan as it is a very vaguely thought out ghost of an idea.

Steve keeps the lights off on his car when he drives off, you and Eddie in the back seat and Dustin riding shotgun with the radio. You gave your keys to Nancy, who promised not to bang up your car but also gave you no indication as to where she’d leave it, which isn’t exactly a huge reassurance.

You paid good money for that beater and you’d like to find it in one piece once everything blows over.

“Was there anything around Chrissy at all?” Dustin asks, halfway twisted around in his seat to look back at you and Eddie. “Particles or dust or something?”

“Nothing,” Eddie whispers, arms wrapped around himself, eyes set to looking out the window to his left. “It was like she–she was in a trance or something. I couldn’t wake her up.”

Dustin looks to you for confirmation. You manage a short nod.

“She started floating and then just... slammed up into the ceiling,” you continue quietly, twisting your fingers in your lap. “I dragged Eddie out of there when her–when she...”

“When her bones started snapping,” Eddie finishes through clenched teeth, and you’re relieved you don’t have to keep trying to talk around the lump in your throat.

“So it’s like she was under some kind of spell,” Harrington says, and you barely catch him looking back at you in the rearview mirror.

“Or a curse,” Dustin mutters, looking straight at Eddie.

“Vecna’s curse.”

“Wait a second,” you interrupt, leaning forward in your seat and looking back and forth between the two. “Vecna? The lich? That’s shit’s a game man I don’t–”

“They’re the best names we have for this stuff right now,” Dustin says, waving you off. “Demogorgons, demodogs, the mind flayer, Vecna; that’s probably not what they’re actually called but they look and act like it so it’s just kind of whatever.”

“And absolutely not the point,” Steve says, pulling over by the side of the road. He’s driven you out to Lovers’ Lake, though you’re not entirely sure why. “The point is that there’s something that’s starting to kill people and we have no idea how or why.”

Ignoring Steve, Eddie leans forward between the two front seats and points a ways ahead, to a dark house. “That one. That’s Reefer Rick’s place. He’s back in jail so we can probably crash there without anyone noticing.”

Steve nods and Dustin turns back around to face forward, grabbing the walkie talkie.

“We’re at Lovers’ Lake, we’re taking them to Reefer Rick’s place.”

“Copy that,” Mike’s voice crackles through. There’s the vague sound of a struggle, and Nancy’s voice is the one you hear next.

“Keep the lights off, don’t make any sound, and stay away from the windows. Got it?”

Dustin looks back at us both.

“Got it,” you whisper, and Eddie just nods his head.

“They got it,” Dustin confirms. “I’ll leave this walkie with them just in case. We’ll see you back at base.”

“Base?” you ask. “Where the hell is base?”

“Mike’s place,” Steve answers, pulling up next to Rick’s place and pulls on the hand brake. Turns back around to face the two of you. “If you need anything, if anything happens,” He grabs the walkie talkie from Dustin’s hand, and shoves it into yours. “You let us know. Anything, lights being weird, if you,” he points at you. “Hear that clock again, anything.”

“Aye aye, captain,” you mutter, and turn to Dustin. “Is he always this damn bossy?”

“Yeah usually he’s actually worse–”

“What the hell–”

The banter is interrupted by Eddie getting out of the car. You can see him pull out a pack of cigarettes as soon as he shuts the door behind him.

“...thanks. For everything,” you say, unbuckling yourself and opening the door. Wave the radio in front of you. “I’ll keep in touch if more weird shit happens. Can you let us know when you find anything?”

Steve and Dustin give each other a look. You don’t like the implication behind it.

“Sure,” Dustin eventually says, turning back to you. ”Just... keep each other safe?“

You nod, getting out and closing the door behind you. Steve doesn’t waste a second to back up and drive away the same way he came. You sigh and run both hands down your face for a second before turning to the house and making your way to the front door.

“Hey, woah, what are you–” Eddie trails behind you, tossing his smoke to the ground.

“Hold this,” you say, shoving the duffel bag into his arms. You dig through your jacket pocket for a second before pulling out a small leather sheath.

“Please tell me that’s what I think it is,” Eddie says, taking a few steps closer as you walk up to and crouch in front of the front door.

“If you’re guessing a set of lock picks,” you start, popping open the flap and pulling out the tension wrench and an angled pick. “I can neither confirm nor deny.”

“You know that’s actually kind of hot,” Eddie remarks, crouching behind you to try and get a better look at what you’re doing. You scoff and focus on trying to get the last two pins to click in place. You sigh in relief once you get the lock to turn smoothly.

When you turn the knob and open the door, you take a theatrical bow and motion for Eddie to walk in first.

“After you, my fellow wanted criminal on the run.”

Eddie snorts and shoves your duffel bag back in your arms. You lock and chain the door one it’s closed behind you.

It’s hard to navigate a house you’ve never been in when you can’t turn a single light on, but Eddie doesn’t seem to have too much of a problem. When you notice he’s easily several feet ahead of you, you throw the bag over your shoulder and grab onto one of his sleeves when you catch up.

“Jesus Christ, warn a guy!” He whispers harshly, caught off guard.

“I have no idea where I am and I can’t see shit, dickhead,” you whisper back, getting a firmer grip on the leather sleeve. “Lead the way.”

Eddie leads you down a hallway into what you assume is a bedroom. There’s barely enough moonlight for you to see by, but at least you can somewhat navigate on your own. You put your duffel down on the floor by the door and crouch down to pull out the shotgun, checking to make sure it’s loaded. Looking around, you stand and put it down on a cluttered desk wedged in a corner. Pull out the pistol from your waistband, double check the magazine, and put it next to the shotgun.

“I don’t like this,” you mutter, making it to the edge of the bed and sitting down with your elbows on your knees. “Wait no, I fucking hate this actually.”

“You’re telling me,” Eddie says, sitting next to you on the bed, shoulders nearly brushing. “You could probably get away with putting all of this on me, you know,” He continues, turning his head to look at you.

“Fuck that,” you bite, massaging your temples. “I’m not gonna turn you into a fucking scapegoat for my own sake, Munson.”

“I’m just saying–”

“What you’re just saying is that you expect me to treat you just like everyone else in this stupid fucking place does,” you spit, sitting up straighter and staring at Eddie. “Have you ever used a gun?”

“No, but–”

“Have you ever shot at anyone?”

No answer. He stays quiet when he turns his head up to look at you from his hunched position.

“Have you?” He asks, frowning.

You don’t answer him back, either. Instead, you lean back behind him to grab one of the pillows at the head of the bed and throw it on the floor.

“What are you doing?” He asks, slowly standing up.

“I’m taking the floor,” You say, nudging the pillow with your foot so it’s next to the head of the bed on the floor. Peel off your jacket and the hoodie underneath.

“The hell you are,” Eddie argues, stepping in front of you and very much getting in the way of your lying down.

“Get out of the way, man,” you complain, throwing your head back. “I just wanna lie down. Quit the chivalrous shit.”

“Take the bed.”

“I’m not gonna,” you insist.

“Why the fuck are you fighting me on this?”

“Maybe because I’m very much not in the mood to have another fucking shitty nightmare where I see more people die again?”

You hate the way Eddie’s glare immediately softens at the mention of your nightmares. Curse under your breath and turn around to shove the palms of your hands into your eyes.

“Don’t pity me, dude,” you grumble, crouching back down to your bag, rummage through it to find the oversized shirt you... had originally planned to wear at Eddie’s place.

What a change of plans.

You throw your jacket and sweater at him and tell him to turn around.

“What? Why?”

The speed at which he turns away from you when you wave the shirt in your hands would probably have been funny in literally any other situation. You peel the Smiths’ shirt off and shove it back into your bag and pull on the looser, worn Metallica tee you’d stolen from your brother. Walk over to tap Eddie on the shoulder, and once he’s jumped out of his skin and turned around, grab your outerwear from his arms and nod your head for him to get out of the way.

“I still don’t like it,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed to toe his shoes off.

“Didn’t expect you to,” You reply quietly, pulling your hoodie out of your jacket and sitting down next to the pillow. When you lie down, you throw the sweater over your legs and pull your jacket over around your shoulders, and turn away from the bed.

“You don’t, like, snore in your sleep, right?” Eddie asks, after you hear him lie down in the bed.

“If I do, it can’t be worse than you.”

He snorts, and there’s a long moment of silence after. You don’t think he’s fallen asleep, yet. You probably won’t be able to sleep for a good while either. Not only does the fear of being projected into another bullshit extra-dimensional nightmare turn you off the idea of unconsciousness, but the thought that someone might, for some reason, track you down here while you sleep is equally terrifying. There’s no real way to exonerate either of you without sounding absolutely crazy.

People might believe you. Eddie’s right; if you decided to blame everything on him the cops might actually buy it. But there’s no way the “town freak” would ever get away with something like this. Regardless of whether or not he’s actually to blame.

“Why’d you stop coming over?“

Eddie’s voice is so quiet when he asks that you barely even register the question. You hear him turning over in the bed to face your back. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“It wasn’t just you,” you answer, turning around to face him. He’s pulled himself over to the edge of the bed to be able to look at you. “Do we really need to be doing this right now?”

“I mean, no, but,” he starts, and you can vaguely tell in the dark that he’s twisting his tongue. “We’ve got time to... we’ve got time, so I figured...”

You sigh and sit up, turning around on the floor to properly face Eddie, and cross your legs.

“Gimme your hand,” you demand, holding your hand out.

“Why..?”

“Just gimme your damn hand, Munson.”

He relents and extends his hand out to you. You grab him by the wrist with your right hand, and bring it palm-down on your left forearm. There’s a moment of silence while you let his fingers run up the scar, from your wrist to your elbow.

“You didn’t see me my graduation year because my mom decided to homeschool me when I got out of the hospital,” you explain quietly, pulling your arm away and closer to your chest. “I haven’t seen anyone from school since then.”

“I’m sorry, I had no idea.” You scoff.

“Yeah, no one did. That was kind of the point,” you answer,with a sarcastic edge, and can’t keep the venom from your voice. “Keep the family embarrassment away from the public eye. That’s why I work at the library. No one sees me there.”

It’s quiet again for a bit. If you really try, you can hear a toad or two croaking outside. A little bit early for them to be out, but the familiar sound eases the tension in your shoulders, even if it’s not by much.

“You should swing by Hellfire next time,” Eddie suddenly says, having laid back on the bed. “Jeff would probably be stoked to see you again.”

You almost laugh. “Jeff? He’s the one who tried to convince me that ‘blinker fluid’ was a thing.”

Eddie does laugh, now. Something in your chest feels a little looser.

“Yeah, he actually managed to convince Gareth one time. Dude was pissed.“

You can’t help but smile. “Yeah that sounds about right.” You take a deep breath and sigh, and close your eyes. “You wanna sleep in shifts?”

You hear Eddie hums while he thinks it over. “Probably not a bad idea,” he eventually says. You hear the mattress shift under him, and the sound of his feet hitting the floor. “Take the bed then,” he says, making his way over to the desk to grab the shotgun, by the sound of it. “I’ll take first watch.”

You don’t have it in you to argue. “Sure,” you agree when you get up. “But put the shotgun down, dude. Do you know how much sound that shit makes? Someone’s definitely gonna call the cops if they hear that go off. Emergency use only.”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, and you hear him very gently but the gun back down. “I’m assuming a baseball bat is an acceptably quiet weapon, mother?”

You throw the floor pillow at his face and miss spectacularly. You hear him kick it away when it lands at his feet. “Shut up, asshole. Just don’t make too much noise. We’re trying to pretend we don’t exist, not imitate a fourth of July celebration.”

You hear crackling next to you on the floor.

“You two still up?” It’s Max’s voice. You rush to grab the walkie talkie.

“Yeah, yeah we’re both awake,” You reply hurriedly. “What’s up?”

“Bad news,” she says slowly. “The cops are at the trailer. Wayne stopped by for some reason and… They just found Chrissy’s body.”

@anothermunsonsimp @doratheignora

Lemme know if you want to be tagged for the next update! 🖤

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titan-fodder · 3 years

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Prima Vista Part IV

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.6k

Warning: a big helping of abandonment/daddy issues, lots of feelings, explicit sexual content A/N: y’all are gonna be so soft and then so mad lmao.

The plan was to go to Mike's house then back to campus. You said you didn't have anything to do at your mom's, that a long phone call would suffice, which is why Mike is confused when you ask him if you can stop by before going back. It's an hour out of the way, but it's not like he has anything better to do, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about your humble beginnings.

The house is in a decent-looking neighborhood, small, nearly identical one-story homes surrounded by cracked sidewalks. He has to be careful not to trip as you make your way to the front porch, pots of dead or dying plants along the edges of it. You shove your key into the lock, twist and open, then motion for Mike to follow.

The den is dimly lit, ceiling fan above with only one working bulb. A crime show is playing on the TV but there's no one watching. There is, however, another light pouring from a back room, and as soon as you drop your bag on the couch, a head pokes out from the doorway.

"Baby girl!" A shrill voice cries, and Mike sees you grimace. "I thought you weren't coming by!"

A woman walks into the den wearing long, cotton shorts and an old tie-dye shirt then pulls you into a hug so tight that it makes you cough.

"Mom," you take a deep breath as if to refill your lungs with all the air that was pushed from them. "This is Mike."

He holds out a hand and smiles, but all your mother does is stare with round eyes and blurt, "Oh, he's a big boy."

"My fucking god." You don't yell or whine, just pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "Just shake his hand please."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, just was not expecting… You didn't tell me how tall he was."

"'Cause it doesn't matter. Why would I—nevermind," you cut yourself off, face falling flat just like your voice.

Mike isn't sure if he should be flattered or offended or embarrassed, so he just ignores the comment entirely and says, "Nice to meet you."

You make your escape to the back, dragging Mike with you before shutting your bedroom door and leaning against it.

"Mom is a little weird, but you'll always know where you stand with her," you tell him. "Also, sorry about the house. She’s a teacher, so she’s usually pretty beat at the end of the day. Not enough energy to do a lotta cleaning."

"Didn't even notice," he reassures you.

Mike unpacks his bag next to you, and you gather the dirty clothes from both yours and his, balling them up and taking them with you out to the garage to throw into the washing machine. Mike should have done it at his parents', but as you were packing up that morning, his mother got all teary eyed and his dad just kept shaking your tiny hands and telling you to come back, so it just didn’t happen.

Back in the living room, your mom is sitting in an old rocking chair, and Mike thinks you'll take a seat on the adjacent couch, but instead you ask, "You need help with anything? Dishes or vacuuming or somethin'?"

She looks up at you, fly-away hairs sticking out around her temples and forehead and responds, "It'd be nice if you could do the dishes. I just haven't gotten around to it."

"Can do," you nod and walk into the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and making a displeased noise at the dirty plates and bowls inside. There's room for a few more, but once it's full and running, you just clean what's left in the sink by hand. Mike finds a towel, stands next to you, and holds his hand out for every scrubbed dish, drying it and placing it in the rack to hopefully be put up later.

"You hungry?" You ask when you're done and drying your hands. "It's almost one."

"Uh, yeah. I could eat."

Truthfully, he's starving having only had a small breakfast at his parents'. He doesn't want to say that, though, doesn't want you making a big meal for him or apologizing for anything.

"Sandwiches okay?"

Something in your tone has him on edge. Your voice is too quiet, deflecting downward as if you're forcing each word from your mouth.

"Yeah," he nods. "If you get the stuff, I can make 'em." Mostly so that you can relax but also because there's no way he's gonna let you make him a fucking sandwich.

You shrug your shoulders, grab bread, lunchmeat, cheese, and condiments, then say, "You can make ours. I'll make mom's."

He knows he's missing something, but he doesn't know what, and right now he's too afraid to ask.

He eats next to you on the couch, you and your mom watching TV as Mike tries to subtly glance around. Mounted shelves are decorated with dusty, mismatched figurines, cracks opening at the corners where the walls meet the roof. The brick fireplace is stacked high with plastic tubs and books, probably from your mother’s classroom, and the carpet has seen better days.

Mike isn't judging—not in the least—but he has a feeling he knows why being here puts you in a sour mood. The house feels lived in, cluttered and cozy and worn around the edges, but it's still empty somehow.

After the three of you are finished eating, you take the paper plates and dispose of them, then tell your mom that you'll be in your room. She gives you a soft smile that you struggle to return.

It's a little more you in the bedroom, blue walls covered in old posters and collages, a quilt similar to the one in your dorm folded at the bottom of your bed. Your pillow cases are faded and covered in an old flower design that matches your sheets, and there's a small nightstand next to the headboard that's bare on top with wrinkled papers poking out of the bottom drawer.

"It's not much, but if you wanna snoop around like I always do, feel free."

Mike doesn't really want to, especially since you already seem so uncomfortable in what should be a safe space for you. The only thing he feels okay investigating is the old bookshelf next to your closet—mostly YA novels, some poetry books, an old set of The Lord of the Rings series, a textbook over rocks and minerals and another over volcanoes. Tucked away in the bottom shelf is a tiny booklet that looks like a photo album, and Mike has to fight the urge to pull it from its place and flip through the plastic pages. Anything to get to know you better.

You lay in bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, and Mike doesn't know what to do. There's a very small TV sitting on your dresser, an old DVD player next to it, so he figures he'll save both you and himself from talking by picking out a movie.

He fingers through them, not that there's a lot, just skims the spines until he pulls out a copy of Space Jam. You only glance at the screen when the intro starts, and Mike immediately zeroes in on the way your jaw sets and your brows furrow.

"I can pick something else," he tells you quietly.

You take a deep breath and shake your head. Slowly but surely your features begin to soften.

"'S'fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. My, uh…" You swallow loud enough from Mike to hear, neck bobbing with the motion. "My dad and I used to watch it all the time."

He doesn't know what to make of it or how to respond. In the months he's known you, Mike has never heard you mention your father a single time, and he's never asked in fear of what your response might be.

He moves your quilt to sit on the very edge of the bed, a little too tense as he heavily contemplates ignoring what you'd said and still switching movies.

"You can lay down, you know," you mumble. "I'm not gonna bite you."

"You have before," he tries to act casual, but it comes out too stiffly.

You laugh through your nose— "Suit yourself—" then get more comfortable on the mattress.

Michael Jordan gets pulled into a golf hole and the Loony Toons journey to retrieve his shoes from the real world. Mike is barely paying attention, more focused on the way your breathing evens out until it becomes slow and deep.

That's good. You could use a nap.

He watches you for a while, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks and your lips part. You're all curled up on yourself, hands tucked under your chin, knees to your stomach, and Mike wants to slip behind you so badly, to pull you to his chest and lay with you until his heartbeat syncs with yours.

But first.

As carefully as he can, Mike stands from the bed and glides to the bookcase. He lowers himself in front of it, quickly finding what he's looking for and pulls it from the shelf.

It's a small little album, full of polaroids and old pictures cut in half. The first page sets the tone for the rest of the booklet, a photo of a very small you outside eating a popsicle next to a man that is most definitely your dad. You've got a similar facial structure as well as his coloring. Not to mention the expression he's wearing is one Mike has seen you make many times before.

The next picture is the two of you dressed up for an event. He's in a striped Polo and slacks while you're in a little checkered dress, a rose corsage on your tiny wrist. Some kind of father-daughter dance, Mike guesses.

Sitting on his lap at a fair, a chubby little boy a few years older than you standing close with a stuffed snake around his neck. A party where you're posed with an honestly frightening costume character. You in a bright, mesh jersey standing back to back with your dad, arms crossed, looking at the camera with your chins tilted upward.

They all look like good memories. The little boy in the fair picture appears several more times, and as he loses his baby fat, Mike sees the resemblance he shares with you and your father. It's too close to be a cousin—your eyes and mouths shaped the same—so he must be your brother.

Mike doesn't know how to feel about that because again, you've never uttered a word. As far as he knew, you were an only child, so why…

He gets lost in the pages, watching you grow and pose mostly next to your dad. Smiles and laughs and silly faces with your tongues sticking out. Your mom is in some, brother in others, and then, you're in a cap and gown, grinning widely next to your dad who's beginning to gray at the temples. His own smile is barely there now, a ghost of what was seen in the previous photos. It's forced, it's sad, and it's the last picture in the book.

Mike's chest hurts. He wonders what happened, when exactly you'd lost him. Was it a quick goodbye, or had it been drawn out and painful? Had he been sick for a long time? He'd looked perfectly healthy in all the shots. Maybe a car accident that took both him and your brother…

He flips to check for one last photo on the back of the page, but it's empty. However, tucked in a tiny, paper pocket is a folded up note that Mike stares at for a few solid minutes, debating the pros and cons of reading it. He knows he's already violated your privacy by looking through the album, and fuck, he's only been in your house for a couple hours at most—how has he already managed to tumble down such a humongous rabbit hole?

Your tiny snores reach his ears, and Mike gently pulls the note out, biting his lip as he unfolds it as quietly as possible. It's soft, like it's been read too many times, and the letters scribbled in all caps are beginning to fade, but the words are still legible.

It starts with your name, and then it's all apologies—sorry I can't stay, I have to leave, you don't understand how much this hurts me and so on.

Mike's eyebrows pull together the further he reads, blood pounding against the walls of his arteries, pulse picking up because he understands now.

Your father wasn't in any sort of accident; he just left.

The letter ends with a gut-wrenching, You'll always be my little girl, and Mike nearly crumples the paper up to throw away. He resists somehow, simply folds it with shaky hands and slips it back into the pocket at the back of the album.

He's never been so mad at a stranger in his life. This must be it. This must be why you are—

"Should've known you'd go straight for the photo album."

Your voice makes Mike's body jolt, his face heating as he turns to look at you with wide eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

You wave him off and prop yourself up on an elbow. "It's whatever."

But, it's not. It's this huge part of you that still affects you to this day. Mike is no psychologist, but he has a pretty good feeling this is the main reason you hold everyone at arm's length.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"What's there to tell?"

Sitting up fully, your gaze moves to the screen just in time to see Michael Jordan step off of the spaceship and onto the baseball field. I Believe I Can Fly is playing, and you're gritting your teeth.

"It's not anything that comes up in normal conversation anyway. I wasn't just gonna hit you with it outta nowhere. Also," you look back to Mike, eyes still sleepy, lips pulling downward in a frown. "I'm not the only one who hid stuff about my family."

Mike sighs and quietly tells you, "That's different," as he closes the album and slides it back into the row of books.

"Is it, though? Is it really?"

"I..."

Mike shuts his mouth and actually thinks on it. He wasn't trying to lie to you about his home life or his heritage. He's only half Greek on his mom's side, after all, and he's only been to the country to visit family a couple of times—once when he was a child and once right before college. The culture is a little different over there, but it all seems so natural to him, especially after being raised to speak the language.

Honestly, he didn't ever tell you because he didn't think to, but Mike can understand the shock of walking into his childhood home and getting thrown through that loop. It must have been jarring for you.

It's a positive aspect of his life, though. It's not something that's damaged him or made him cold toward others. And, he hates describing you in such a way, but it's true.

At least it makes sense now.

"I guess not," he shrugs. He's not about to fight you on it.

You stare at him for a while, waking up a bit more as you rub your eyes and stretch.

Then, you flop back down on your pillows.

"So. Any questions, Zacharias?"

He's surprised that you're asking, and though he doesn't want to twist the metaphorical knife in your gut, he still replies honestly: "Too many."

A long exhale through your nose, and then you're patting the mattress next to you and grumbling, "Fine, I'll do my best, but you gotta come up here."

"Why? You gonna need to cuddle afterward?" He can't help but tease.

"Fuckin' maybe, dude! We're about to get into my god damn trauma so—"

Mike is up on his feet and flying toward the bed. He isn't about to sabotage the one fucking moment you're opening yourself up.

"Alright, what first?" You ask, trying to look bored, but Mike can clearly see that you're nervous.

"He left."

"Yeah."

And then he gets the full story.

Your dad was pretty perfect during your younger years—a bit of a workaholic but still good. He took you to dances like the one you'd both dressed for in the photograph. You'd spend days at amusement parks where he'd carry you on his shoulders. He coached the basketball team you'd played on as a child.

"Not saying he played favorites, but I was definitely closer to him than my brother was."

The brother who developed a drug problem at fourteen, who was always either out with his little addict friends or at home where he would just scream at you and your mom.

"He went to rehab a couple times, but it didn't stick."

He left home at seventeen and hasn't gotten in touch with you or your parents since.

"I keep thinking one day we'll get a call from the police saying they found his wallet on a fucking corpse, but who knows. Maybe he got clean. Maybe he started a family somewhere else. He'd be twenty-five now."

"Were you ever close with him?"

You shrug. "We spent a lot of time together when we were really little, but even back then he was kinda a mean kid."

It very quickly circles back to your father. Mike still doesn't feel like he has all the answers, so he asks through the skin of his lip, "Why'd he leave?"

At this point, you've got your head in his lap as he sits against the wall. He smooths your hair back from your face every once in a while, something his mom used to do to him when he was very young that always soothed him.

He hopes it's having the same effect on you, thinks it might be considering you've had your eyes closed for a while now, humming now and then as you talk.

"Honestly, I don't really know. I don't think he and my mom were ever in love. Like, they just kinda settled for each other," you sigh. "They didn't have a lot in common. They had different upbringings. But, they didn't fight or anything—not in front of us. They were good at hiding the hard times from me and my brother. They just didn't… click."

Mike bites his tongue, wonders if that was hard to watch or if you'd been too naive to notice.

Then, there's his second train of thought that's really just the voice in his head screaming, we click, though! You and I work! But he keeps it to himself. This isn't about you and him.

"I think maybe dad had, like, a 'stay together for the kids' mentality 'cause as soon as I graduated, he was fuckin' gone. And, I mean gone. We went to a graduation party the next weekend that lasted a few hours—just me and mom—and when we got back his truck wasn't in the driveway and his drawers were empty. He left that note you read on my desk."

Mike breathes. Just breathes. He tries to make sense of it, how someone could just do that without a real reason. There hadn't been any explanation in the letter, only apologies.

"Have you seen him since?"

You open your eyes and reply, "Nope," popping the 'p'. "I don't know where he is, and he hasn't reached out. Mom made the drive to my grandma's—his mom—but she said she didn't know where he was either. Pretty sure she was covering for him, though. She was always kind of a bitch. You know, save for the whole paying for my college and all."

Mike snorts at this, not that there's anything funny about the situation. It's just his first reaction.

You ignore it, moving on with an, "Anyway."

"Anyway," he mimics.

"I don't know if you've noticed in the short time you've been here, but my mom is a little… off. Not super good at taking care of herself."

"Is this why?"

"Clever boy," you show a bitter smile. "I didn't really understand since they weren't, like, in love or whatever, but… I think it was the betrayal more than anything. Like, it came outta nowhere, a big ol' slap in the face."

"Plus, he left you behind," Mike adds, as if you don't already know.

Looking up at him, you raise your eyebrows and smirk. "And, now you know about my abandonment issues." The last part comes out in high-pitched, melodic syllables, a little song that would be funny if Mike didn't know it was a coping mechanism. It most definitely is, though. He can tell that you're the type to mask every issue with humor and sarcasm. It's how you've been dealing with him for the last several months.

"So, that's my story," you conclude on an exhale. "Now you know all my dirty secrets."

"For some reason I don't think that's all of them," Mike pets your hair again. "But, probably the important ones."

"Mm. I guess."

The rest of the day is really just spent killing time. You cook an easy dinner that you refuse to let Mike help with, then sit in the den with your mom just like you did at lunch. A medical show is playing. Then a reality show. Then a game show. None of you say much of anything, and it's painfully awkward for Mike now that he knows what happened, but he can power through a few days of this if it makes you feel better.

Hours pass until you can retreat, and moonlight shines through your bedroom window, not that Mike needs it. He's memorized your body at this point, knows where to touch without even seeing. He makes sure to be gentle, to suckle and blow on your pebbled nipples as you card fingers through his hair and breathe faster and faster.

Leaving love bites down your chest and stomach, he sucks on your skin, gently grazing his teeth over every bruise. Mike wants you to see them all the next day—not a staked claim, just something you can't ignore when you look in the mirror, evidence of his feelings in every mark.

When you're finally nice and relaxed, he spreads your legs and licks into you, trying not to be too rough with his beard, but a few swipes of it over your clit leave you shaking in his grasp. You whisper his name, the common one that everyone knows him by, but then, rolling off your tongue like a prayer, you call him, "Miche," and he can't help the rumble that rises in his chest.

It should be strange. That's the name only his family uses, the one he was born with. He only simplified it so that kids in school wouldn't ask questions or make fun of him, and after that, it just sort of stuck. But, here and now, falling from your lips, it's so soft. So intimate.

You whimper when he sucks on your folds, making them swell, making them sensitive. And then, he's pushing his tongue inside of you and humming happily at the taste. His nose is bumping against your clit, and Christ, you even smell good to him—that ripe, tangy aroma that has Mike going a little crazy. He has to make sure he doesn't get too carried away. You can't make very much noise even with the rattling of the air conditioner, but as he slowly slides a finger into your pussy, he hears you moan around the fist you're holding to your mouth.

He stretches you just enough to get you ready, then he holds himself over you and pushes into your wet cunt. Your eyes are open, locked with Mike's as your brow raises and your jaw drops. It's erotic, something you've never done with him before. You typically either gaze somewhere other than his face or keep your eyes squeezed shut.

Tonight, though, you've been vulnerable and apparently want to stay that way for a little while longer.

He bends to catch you in a kiss, lips and tongues moving just as slowly as his hips, and when you reach to tug at Mike's hair, he pants into your mouth.

Those words are there again, stuck in his throat but slowly crawling upward until they're just there, pouring from his tongue, "I lo—"

Until you cut him off with a sharp, "Don't."

He makes a noise of frustration, wants to protest because he's so deep inside of you, and you're holding onto him like you want him—truly want him, but you mutter once more against his lips, "Don't say it, Miche."

So, he doesn't. He bottles the confession up and keeps it locked away, hoping like hell that one day you'll let him tell you.

After you climax and coat his cock in slick and cream, he gives a few more thrusts and comes inside of you, filling you with himself and wondering why you're so willing to accept him in that way but not in any other.

He's hurting again, like he did at his parents' as you walked around like you belonged there. Except it's worse now.

If you don't want him to say it, that means you don't want to say it back.

He stays with you for a few more minutes before pulling out. You leave to clean up, and while you're gone, Mike sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tries to get it all out of his system, whispering it out loud to himself:

I love you. I love you, I love you.

You still let him hold you as you fall asleep, gripping his hand until you can't anymore, and as Mike drifts off behind you, he has one last thought—Just let me.

* There’s only three weeks left of the semester when you head back to campus, and you intend to make the most of every passing day.

You pay better attention in class. You study harder in the library to prepare for final exams. You go to a few more Pi Alpha Kappa parties, making sure not to burn yourself out. And, you let Mike fuck your brains out every few days. Sometimes it’s late at night after those parties. Sometimes you're too tired after the nights of drinking and end up just going to bed only to wake up in the morning and have slow, sleepy sex. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the afternoon when you both have breaks between classes.

Neither of you bring up anything that happened over the break—meeting families, details about your childhoods, how much you learned about one another in general.

Most importantly, neither of you address that first night at your mom’s, the way Mike had basically worshiped your body, how he’d come so close to uttering the three words you least want to hear.

Thinking about it still makes your chest tighten, your heart beat faster. Sometimes when you’re sharing his bed with him, back pressed to his chest, large arm slung over your waist, you think about why it is you’re so vehemently against it. The two of you already act like a couple most of the time. You walk with each other to class when you can. You stick to each other’s sides at parties. You fuck like rabbits and don’t care who knows about it.

And, though you’re hesitant to admit it even to yourself, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. Mike is your best friend at this point. He’s insanely hot. He’s goofy. He’s kind. Yeah, the frat boy persona he puts on around his friends is annoying, but you understand it a little better now. Plus, he always takes off the mask when he’s alone with you, giving both you and himself a break from it.

You know your time with him is quickly coming to an end—for about two months, at least—and whenever you think too hard about it, it makes you pout and huff. You’re not looking forward to your summer classes without him, but he promises on several occasions that you can call him while he’s at his parents’ if you ever need help with the material.

It’s impressive, the way he’s able to act like nothing happened. You know it must be troubling him, but it’s not like you can do anything to soothe him. If he was really upset with you, he would have stopped spending time with you, but he hasn’t. He just bottles it up, keeps smiling at you all crookedly, and keeps satisfying you in the bedroom (more than satisfying honestly. There’s really not a word to describe what he does).

He’s back to getting along with everyone in the Pike house, everyone being Erwin. It’s a relief just because you don’t have to put up with the tension between them, but it’s also awkward. And, a little frightening.

The brothers have Smash Brothers tournaments and movie nights, a few date parties here and there, and it never fails that at some point during the evenings, you find your neck prickling as it always does when you feel someone staring at you. You always hope it’s Mike. Fuck, you wish it was him. But, when you glance up and around, it’s Erwin. Every time. His deep blue eyes are trained on you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward on one side. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or if he’s got Maddie or some other girl sitting in his lap. He's fucking shameless, and it makes your stomach hurt.

You keep your mouth shut for the sake of the friendship but also for the sake of Erwin’s pretty face. If he and Mike ever got into an actual fight, Erwin would probably be able to get a good few punches in, but you’re nearly positive Mike would end up destroying him in the long run. That could get him kicked out of school. That could get him thrown in jail.

Finals roll around, and you manage to pass all of them without issue, even getting grades above the class average. You feel fantastic, like your long term goals might actually be attainable. You have a long road ahead of you, but your GPA at the end of the year is more than enough to raise your confidence.

Mike asks you to come back to his house for the couple weeks between the end of the semester and the start of your summer courses, but you turn him down, too scared of what might happen while you’re there. Acting like a couple in front of his parents will only exacerbate his feelings as well as yours, and you’d like to avoid that as best you can.

Even now as you’re standing outside by the Jeep, he tries to persuade you one last time, almost pleading, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”

“Miche, I’m sure,” you tell him, trying to stay stern, but it’s hard when his sea glass eyes light up at the sound of his real name. It’s a habit you’ve gotten into, a bad one considering how much he likes it. How much you like it. “I already told you I wanna spend the free time I have at mom’s. I need to check up on her and… Probably clean, honestly.”

He lets out a little grunt of disappointment, then nods. “Yeah, I get it.”

“You saw what she’s like,” you remind him. “Someone needs to drop in every once in a while to make sure she isn’t, like, wasting away or something.”

“Makes sense. I’ll be bummed, though.”

“Be bummed all you want,” you smile. “I’ll probably still bother you over break. A lot.”

He sounds terribly sincere when he mumbles, “You never bother me.” It makes your stomach flip in the way you do not enjoy.

Mike sighs, taking in one of those deep breaths that makes his broad chest rise then fall, calling attention to it and making you bite your bottom lip.

“Alright, I should get going,” he concedes, bending down to kiss you too deeply for simple friends with benefits. It doesn’t stop you from humming into his mouth and smiling against him. You hold him by the back of his neck as he pulls your body close to his, his voice muffled when he tells you mischievously, “Don’t forget to send pictures.”

It makes you laugh, and you lean back to swipe your tongue over his lips so that he groans and chases after you.

“I promise I will. Perv.” The beating sun is nothing in comparison to the way your body heats at the thought. You’ve sent him nudes before, but the idea of him looking at them from hours away, fisting his cock as he admires your body through his phone… It makes seeing him off even harder.

After a couple more softer kisses, Mike swings into the Wrangler and pulls out of the lot. You stand in his parking space and watch him until he’s out of sight, then walk back to your dorm, dragging your feet the whole way.

You only stay at your mom’s house for a week, and just like you predicted, you spend most of it cleaning. She thanks you the whole time but makes excuses in between. You just reassure her that you don’t mind even though you do. She really should see a therapist and sort out the depression she’s been stuck in for a few years now, but telling someone they need professional help is easier said than done.

Sleeping in your old bed is much harder this time around. You're all too aware of the weight that isn't behind you, and most nights you lay awake for at least a couple of hours trying to imagine it.

Like you’d promised, you send him a few pictures, some of them just lewd selfies with your tits pouring out of the cups of your bra, but others are of your naked body in the bathtub, sometimes a shot of you with your hand between your legs. It feels wrong to touch yourself in your childhood home, but it’s necessary, especially when Mike sends you a few pictures of his own—one with his torso on display, defined abs absolutely mouthwatering and the V of his hips suggestively leading into mesh shorts. Another is of him in the gray joggers he wears all the time, the ones that always show off his cock.

He’s so fucking hot it atually hurts, makes your pussy throb as you crave his touch. It’s an awful feeling honestly, but even worse than that is the way you miss him. You aren’t supposed to miss him. You’re just supposed to be friends who have sex. Nothing more than that.

It's why you’re glad to go back to school. Your classes will distract you, keep you from thinking about him too much. The semester is shorter during the summer, so you have to work even harder than you do during fall and spring. You don’t really think it’ll be a problem since you’re trying to cram your brain full of anything other than Mike which is great motivation for studying.

Nothing is gonna get you off track, you tell yourself. Nothing will interfere with your studies. That’s the plan.

Then, you meet Zeke Jaeger.

* You're studying in the library. It seems like you spend most of your time here, nice and quiet and empty. The campus isn't nearly as busy in the summer as it is during the rest of the school year. No parties, no sporting events, just you alone with your books.

It's nice. Most of the time. A little boring but mostly nice.

Your eyes are getting tired, and when you check your phone, you realize why. It's almost eleven PM, meaning you've been studying for about six hours. You've had longer nights, usually spent on the phone getting quizzed on the information you're learning with a few breaks in between, but that wasn't the case tonight as Mike had to spend the day with family from out of town.

It's okay. You're supposed to be distancing yourself anyway.

Taking a deep breath, you pack up your books and slide your laptop into your bag, then stand and swing it over your shoulder.

The strap is too long. The bag swings too hard, and your heart sinks when you hear a little grunt followed by a, "Agh, hot!"

Turning with wide eyes, you immediately start apologizing, "I'm so sorry, oh my god, fuck, I'm so sorry!"

A head of light blond hair looks up from the brown stain on his white t-shirt, icy blue eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses, but when he sees the mortification on your face, his own expression softens, and he chuckles.

"It's fine. You can calm down."

You're still breathing heavily, guilt making your hands shake, but he really doesn't look angry. In fact, he's grinning now, eyebrows raised like he's amused.

The longer you stare at him, the more familiar he looks. You're pretty sure you've seen him before. Many times before, actually, and then it clicks that this guy is on the front page of the school website. You see him every fucking time you log in, looking much more stern than he does now. Baseball hat and jersey, mitt on one hand as he hides his other in it, and yeah, you know him.

"You're Zeke Jaeger."

He makes a face, scrunching his nose up and squinting. "Yeeeeah, I guess I am."

Best pitcher in the college league despite being a sophomore like you. He's beaten the records of some major league players.

You don't give a fuck about baseball, have never even been to any of the school's games, but you've been hearing about Zeke since the last season. You've learned to tune it out because, again, no shits given (and also you're much more partial to lacrosse now), but he's hard to ignore when he's staring you right in the face.

"Well, uh," you try to act casual. It's something you're pretty good at these days. "Cool."

He snorts, picking his shirt off his chest to air it out like it'll help, then says, "I don't know your name, though."

You run your tongue over your teeth, wondering why he cares, then introduce yourself.

"Oh, you're Zacharias' little girlfriend, aren't you?"

Your stomach flips at the mention of him.

"We're not dating."

Zeke cocks his head to the side. "No?"

"No. Just friends."

He hums but doesn't say anything, and your eyes are once again drawn to his chest as he fans over the stain.

"Okay, let me get you a new shirt or something," you try.

He laughs again. "I highly doubt you've got a men's shirt tucked in that bag of yours, sweetheart."

"I—" you pout for a second, mumble, "Okay, yeah, fair point."

"Another coffee, though," he muses out loud. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."

You shoot him a finger gun and smack your lips. "On it. Where do you get coffee at eleven o'clock?"

"I'll walk with you," he states more than offers.

Then, you're both leaving the library, leaving campus, and going to a little 24 hour cafe where you blow on lattes and cover the basics about each other—philosophy major, valedictorian of his high school class, playing baseball since age seven, etc. You should sleep. You should get ready for another long day of studying.

But it's hard to make good decisions when Zeke Jaeger is smirking at you from across the table like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen.

* Zeke gets your number that night. You're not exactly sure how, but he does.

Then he doesn’t text you for three days. It doesn’t bother you that much. You figure he has other things to focus on. He’s on campus to take a couple courses and practice for the upcoming season, so he’s probably just busy. If that night had just been a one-off, it’s fine with you. It was cool to talk to him, but your heart isn’t broken.

These are all the thoughts and justifications running through your head when you’re in class on Tuesday and your phone lights up during the PowerPoint lecture. You glance down, expecting Mike or Hitch, but it’s an unknown number instead. Eyes flicking from the projection screen to your much tinier one, you slide to open the message and chew on your lip.

Hey, it’s Zeke. You have classes this afternoon?

You do not. And, you are too quick to tell him that.

He takes you to a little Mom and Pop restaurant, too far to walk so you end up riding in the black Bronco he drives, trying to convince yourself that it definitely does not make him any more attractive to you. Because you aren’t attracted to him in the first place. Right?

You sit at a table for two eating paninis and fruit. Zeke asks how classes are going, you ask about practice, and as you talk, he gets that look in his eyes again, like you amuse him or interest him or something.

It confuses you, and for a moment, you’re taken back to last fall at that first Pi Kappa Alpha party, the one you met Mike at when he tried to get you to shotgun a beer. God, he had been so obnoxious back then, always following you around and flirting and—

“You listening, sweetheart?”

Your eyes refocus on the man in front of you, his raised eyebrows and little smirk. “Looks like you’re a million miles away. Sorry if I’m boring you.”

“No, no,” you try to defend. “I just zoned out for a second. Realized I, uh, got an answer wrong on the quiz I took today.”

“That sucks,” he hums. “Anyway, I can stop talking about baseball.”

“It’s okay. Just go over the last, like, ten seconds,” you say with a laugh, hoping your cheeks will stop burning sooner rather than later.

Zeke chuckles and does just that, doesn’t seem irritated or put out. He tells you about how he has a new trainer this year to warm him up and make sure his throwing arm is in top shape. “I hope he’s as good as my last. Colt was always on it, knew exactly how hot to make the warm compresses and how cold to make the ice packs. Stuff like that. He learned my needs.”

You both laugh, and if it was anyone else, you’d have an innuendo sliding off your tongue, but for some reason, you don’t think Zeke would want to hear it, like he’d be unimpressed with your vulgar humor.

Back at the college, he drives you to your dorm, explaining that he lives in the apartments on the other side of campus and wouldn’t want to make you walk that far. Then, as you slide out of the Bronco, he stops you with a smooth, “Hey,” that makes you look over your shoulder at him. “Make sure you save my number in your phone, okay? I’ll text you soon.”

The way your stomach flips is worrisome, a feeling you’re only used to when you’re with…

“Yeah, okay.”

He grins widely and nods, then waits for you to get a good distance away from the car before driving off.

No distractions, you’d said. It’ll be good for your focus, you’d said.

What a fucking joke.

Mike has to help you with some homework that weekend. You can hear his smile through the phone, snort when he makes his little nerd jokes, then sigh when he gets to the actual subject and explains it to you without a problem. His brain is incredible, and when you think about it too hard, it makes you warm inside.

“You’re so fucking smart. Why don’t you let people know?”

“Maybe I just want you to know,” he chuckles. “You think I wanna spend my days tutoring every idiot who needs help?”

“Miche, did you just call me an idiot?”

You hear another breathy laugh followed by a sigh. “I have many, many names for you, but ‘idiot’ isn’t one of them.”

“Oh yeah?” You play. “And, what might those other names be?”

He lists a few, all of them making your face flush and your body tingle, and before you know it, you’ve got your pants off and your fingers between your legs. You can hear Mike’s heavy breathing on the other end, the wet sound of his hand stroking his lubricated cock, and when you reach your climax, you moan out your usual, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Miche.”

He tumbles down right behind you, panting and telling you in a voice of disbelief, “Jesus, it just keeps coming.” It makes the pulses of your orgasm even stronger, remembrance of all the times he’s painted you in white, and God, you are so ready for him to get back to the school.

Then, there’s the voice in the back of your head that makes you think maybe it’s better that he’s gone for now, that he might not be too pleased that you’re spending time with another guy. But, it’s not like things with Zeke are going anywhere. You wouldn’t even call him a friend. You text on and off, have brunch or lunch or coffee depending on the time of day.

And, yeah, he calls you pet names, tells you that you look nice even when you’re just in leggings and a t-shirt, talks about his family and…

Okay, it could potentially lead to something more, but it’s only been a week, and considering his golden boy status, he could have anyone he wants, so why would he even be interested in you in any way, shape, or form?

Naturally, your thoughts circle back to Mike and the way he could have any girl on his arm, but he still chooses to spend time with you. To fuck you. To nearly confess his feelings to you. You have to wonder if you’re emitting some kind of scent or beacon, if there’s a sign hanging above your head with an arrow pointing down. Sports gods, come get a piece.

If only you’d never gone to that party. If you had just kept your head down like you had freshman year. Your life would be so much easier now.

But now you’re in Zeke’s apartment listening to him rant about some philosopher you’ve never even heard of. He’s gesturing with his hands, flipping curling, blond bangs from his face, and whenever he pauses to think, he scratches his beard. He’s very fond of the white t-shirts and jeans get-up, sometimes switches it up and wears a button down under a sweater vest. Both looks are becoming of him no matter how much you try to deny it, but when he drops down onto the couch next to you and peers into your god damn soul with those piercing, blue eyes, you have to choke back a dreamy sigh.

What is happening to you?

“So, what do you think about it?” He asks, looking hopeful that you might have some insight on this matter.

But, you simply laugh and shake your head. “Zeke,” you start. “I’m gonna be real honest with you here. I didn’t understand a fucking thing you just said.”

You assume he’ll be disappointed, maybe tire of you since you can’t be as intellectually stimulating as he’d like you to, but Zeke exhales in a lighthearted sort of way, shows one of those amused smiles, and tells you, “You’re cute.”

Anyone else and you would have snapped back, something along the lines of, don’t fucking patronize me, but with Zeke, all you can do is stare at him and let your lips part, silently asking for something you won’t speak out loud.

His gaze moves to your mouth for a split second. That soft smile turns into one of his famous smirks. Then, he’s back on his feet and asking, “You wanna go to dinner?”

You are more than relieved at the shift in atmosphere, but your heart is still beating too hard as you follow him downstairs and to his car.

* Summer is passing quickly. Too quickly. The eleven week classes are kicking your ass, or are close to kicking your ass. Lucky for you, you have your own private tutor just a call or text away. Mike helps you, and you laugh and goof around, shoot off innuendo after innuendo, but the phone sex slows to a halt eventually. You tell him that you’re tired, and you are. It isn’t a lie. But, it also isn’t the full truth.

Between classes when you could be resting, you’re eating out with Zeke. Or, watching him and the rest of the baseball team practice for the upcoming season. Or, sitting in his apartment, watching movies and chatting about all manner of things. Nothing important, of course—there’s no diving deep into your life story like you had done with Mike over Spring Break, but Zeke still learns the little things about you. Why you’re majoring in geosciences and how you became good friends with some of the Pike guys. You don’t give him the full details on that one—that you got blackout drunk and fucked Mike and just couldn’t stop. You don’t think Zeke would be interested in hearing about it anyway.

You learn a bit about his dad and stepmom, the latter of whom he isn’t very fond of. He also has a little brother who’ll be attending the college starting this fall, and he’s interested in the Greek life. Naturally, you build PKA up. Even if there are some… Problematic people in the house, there are also a lot of really good guys.

“I’ll make sure to pass it along to him,” Zeke tells you one evening as you’re both sprawled on the couch, backs against the armrests as you face each other. It’s how he seems to prefer to sit when the TV isn’t on. When you asked him why, he had told you, “Just like looking at you,” and you didn’t know how to respond. You still don’t know how to respond.

“Eren thinkin’ about joining any sports?” You ask now. “Does baseball run in the family or anything?”

Zeke snorts. “Kid couldn’t hit a baseball even if it was on one of the t-ball stands.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

“I would say he’s more academically inclined, but,” Zeke sighs. “That would be a lie.”

You can never tell if he actually likes his brother. Most of the time he complains about him, but every once in a while he’ll bring up something cute Eren did as a little boy, and you see a fond glimmer in his light eyes.

“Anyway,” Zeke waves off the subject and transitions to a new one—one that makes your stomach drop. “Are you gonna tell Zacharias about us?”

You choke on your own spit, leaning forward to cough a couple times, then challenge him with a nervous laugh, “I wasn’t aware there was anything to tell him.”

Zeke tilts his head, mouth pulling up as he raises his eyebrows. “Come on,” he chuckles.

“Come on, what?” You frown. If you were with Mike, you both would have died at that. Come on my face, you can hear him say, and you have to fight a smile because there’s absolutely no way you could explain that to the man in front of you.

“You don’t have to play coy, sweetheart. We both know there’s something going on between us.” He says it with such confidence that even if he wasn’t right you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. The assumption should annoy you, should make you scoff and leave, but instead you sit there staring, caught up in his gaze and cocky grin.

“I—”

“It’s okay, you know. Not like you’re alone in this.”

Those questions swim through your mind again, all the insecurities that you’ve been sorting through with Mike, but now that voice is louder because that sense of trust hasn’t formed yet. You’ve only connected with Zeke over meals and movies. It sounds domestic, but despite your apparently obvious attraction to him, you still don’t feel like you really know him.

But, he draws you in, like a moth to a flame. You can’t help it. There’s just something about him that makes you want him to like you, like you want to impress him, like you want to be good for him. You’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but they’re much harder to fight now that you’re sitting in front of him, taking in his wavy hair and pale blue eyes, that ever present smirk on his face, the curve of his neck that disappears into his shirt.

He could just want sex. He could just want a fling. Wait for everyone to get back on campus and drop you for another girl. You tell yourself you wouldn’t care; you’re good at keeping things casual.

Wouldn’t it be fun to be his arm candy for a while, though? Let people look at you and whisper louder than they did when they’d see you and Mike together? You don’t care about status, about being in the spotlight. It’s more for the experience, dating someone who could teach you things.

Mike teaches you things, that voice pops up again. He’s been helping you with your work for almost a year now. You can’t just overlook that.

“What, are you weighing the pros and cons over there or something?”

You snort. “Maybe. We still don’t really know each other all that well, Zeke.”

“Might I remind you that we’ve been hanging out all summer? Did you honestly think it wouldn’t lead to anything more?”

“Honestly,” you mimic, “I never thought you’d be interested.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His brow furrows like he’s genuinely confused. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re cute.”

God, you can’t even count how many times he’s called you ‘cute’, how many times it’s made you blush over the last several weeks, just like it does now.

Then, he pushes, “Do you not find me at—”

“Of course I do,” you cut him off. “I don’t know who doesn’t, which is exactly why I don’t know where this is coming from.”

Zeke sighs like he’s annoyed, then turns the hand on his thigh palm up and beckons you with two fingers. “Come here.”

“What?”

“Come here.”

Your blood pressure spikes, breaths coming in little puffs that have no way of getting to your brain. It’s probably why you obey, rolling to your knees and clumsily crawling over to him. You stop short, right between his bent knees, but Zeke sits up, straightens his legs, and pulls you into his lap.

More of that precious air leaves your lungs as you exhale too sharply, staring at him with huge eyes. You don’t know what’s happening, can’t believe it’s happening. It doesn’t feel real even as you rest your hands on his shoulders, even when he holds your hips and pulls you so that your full weight is on him, but fuck, you can’t say anything. You can’t make a sound. All you can do is wait for him to make his next move.

“Why do you look scared?” His voice is just above a whisper, but at this proximity you can hear him without a problem.

“I don’t have a lot of experience sitting in men’s laps,” you manage, trying to keep your usual careless tone, but you doubt it works.

“For some reason I don’t believe that.”

You rear back, actually offended. “Excuse m—”

That ire, however, melts away as quickly as it arose. Zeke slides fingers up your waist, all the way to the back of your neck to bring your face to his—your lips to his.

He feels different, not at all what you’re used to. His kiss is more demanding, hungry, and God, you still can’t breathe, can’t think straight because his tongue is moving past your lips, and you’re letting it, letting him taste you as your fingertips dig into the flesh of his shoulders. You lift yourself from him just a little only for Zeke to pull you back down with the hand still gripping your hip. He makes sure you feel him when he grinds up into you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing you through your little shorts so that you gasp into his mouth.

You both stay like that for what feels like a fucking eternity, biting and sucking on lips, stroking over each others’ tongues until you absolutely have to break apart. You’re panting now, body still tense on top of his, and Zeke stares at you with half-lidded eyes and shows the ghost of a smile.

“Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

The statement sets you on fire, so much so that all you can do is whimper quietly and lean in for more.

And, as you get lost in Zeke Jaeger, you decide for yourself.

I need to tell Mike

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #aot fanfiction #mels prima vista

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caramelcal · 3 years

Text

His Favorite Secret.

“I’m tired of being your secret.”

You can find the rest of the prompts here.

i really took this and ran with it huh...IT’S 4.3K WORDS

warnings: mentions of sex, gangs, alcohol, bondage

kinda obsessed with this gang!luke idea. also, i’m not sure if i wanna make “bambi” the reader or an oc, it works as either i believe? bambi is a nickname btw and i honestly feel like making more parts based on this concept tbh

kinda wanna make another part LMAO idk what i’d do it on though </3

Luke was better to her than anything you could possibly expect. He was surprisingly gentle when it came to her, hugging and caressing her that seemed impossible for the way he was and the life he lived. People saw Luke as the 6-foot-odd man that could rip you apart without an issue, without even breaking a sweat but he was so much more than that.

He was so much more than the leather jacket-wearing gangster that everyone depicted him as; heartless and stoic. He was a great lover if he let people in, and she had never been loved that way with anyone before. Surely though, with his life, there were complications to their relationship.

He was different from other people, more violent, more dangerous. The gang, which was run by Luke and three of his closest friends, Calum, Ashton and Michael, was well-known and feared among many, but they were left alone by the police. The police were aware that they existed, but they didn’t do anything about it. There were more cons to arresting them than there were pros.

Luke’s life made everything very interesting. He was rich, of course, and after a while of them dating she had moved into his condo. It was massive, bigger than any house she had ever lived in before and it was just for the two of them. It was a luxurious life that she had not experienced before, and she was still getting used to it.

If there was one thing about Luke that she had learned, it was that buying her things was his love language. He never had been great at the romantic side of their relationship considering he hadn’t had a girlfriend in a long time and normally just had one-night stands, but he tried his best. That didn’t meant that he ever softened up during sex, though.

Another thing about his life that made stuff interesting was that Luke had to drop things for work. Sometimes stuff would go wrong on a run, or other gangs would try stuff with them and he would have to leave. It was understandable, but still frustrating for her, especially the one time where an emergency had occurred right in the middle of them having sex.

Luke had been very busy the past few weeks, having to deal with numerous issues with the gang and barely having enough time to spend with the needy girl who craved his attention. There had been issues in the club, that was what he had said, but he didn’t go into much detail on the matter, he never did. He liked to keep his relationship and gang life very separate from one another.

A lot of the mornings this week she had woke up alone, void of the warmth she liked to cuddle into in the morning. At least she was getting him all to herself this weekend, she thought. After barely spending anytime with her that weekend, Luke had promised they would spend the weekend together, even if the club was set on fire. Calum, Ash and Mike will deal with it.

“Bambi?” The nickname fell from his lips when he stepped in the front door. She brought her eyes up to look at him, happiness filling her features. She hadn’t been expecting him home for another few hours, but she definitely wasn’t complaining.

Running over to him, she jumped, knowing full well that he would catch her as her arms wrapped around his neck. Her head snaked into the nape of his neck, comfortingly taking in the scent of her favorite person, his arms holding her protectively close to his body. They were alone, thankfully enough. After all, she really hadn’t thought out her jumping hug because her short skirt had ridden up, showing off her underwear which Luke most definitely would be furious if anyone but him saw.

“Welcome home,” She whispered into his neck, hand coming up to play with the hair on the back of his neck. Her eyes fluttered, eyelashes tickling the skin on Luke’s neck as he rubbed her back, taking in the comfort of having the smaller girl in his arms.

He walked forward so that he was fully in the house, using his leg to kick the door shut behind him before walking towards the middle of the room near the couch. He slowly lowered himself until he was sitting down on the plush cushions, the girl now in his lap, still being held closely.

“Bambi?” Luke started, making sure that the girl was listening, to which she hummed into the side of his neck, not willing to move just yet, “I know you wanna hug and kiss and stuff right now but we don’t have much time to pack your bags, you have to stay at the safe house for a few days.”

Almost immediately, the warmth of her face was gone from his neck, and her hands were no longer playing with his hair. She was still held tightly on his lap, mostly because he held her there with a semi-firm grip, her looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows and sad eyes.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened. In fact, it had happened quite a few times and each time it made her rather frustrated. She had to remove every single piece of evidence that she even existed in the apartment, and get hidden away in a safe house for the entire weekend, on the edge of town, where she wasn’t allowed to leave until Luke got her himself.

She hated the safe house.

“But you said-”

“Bambi,” Luke cut her off rather firmly, sending her a look which she knew meant that there were no arguments in this. She almost wanted to whine, to argue with Luke and tell him that he said this was going to be their weekend together, just them, no gang stuff, but now she wasn’t even going to get to see him at all this weekend, “I need to have a few low levels over to go over plans, and they’ll be over tomorrow which means we can’t let them know you’re here or that you exist. They still can’t fully be trusted yet, which means that they could be moles and I’m not putting you at risk for that.”

His speech was ended in a soft tone, looking down at her with a small amount of sadness for the girl. His hand comfortingly raked through her hair, piercing blue eyes looking at her but her eyes stay looking down. Slowly, without saying anything, she climbed off of his lap and started to retreat to their bedroom.

“Bambi? Where you goin, baby?” He called out, looking at the girl who stopped in her tracks, looking over her shoulder.

“I’m packing. That’s what you wanted me to do, was it not?”

Not many words were exchanged afterward with the girl silently packing away every aspect of her life into two duffle bags. She wasn’t even allowed to properly live in her own house, no decorations, photos in frames, nothing. Everything she owned had to be easily removable so it looked like she didn’t even exist in her own home.

Luke watched her from the bedroom door, leaning against the frame coolly as he analyzed her movements. He knew she was frustrated, but she had to know he was doing this to protect her, she should have anyway. Rather harshly, she finally zipped up the duffle bags, throwing them over her shoulder and walking straight past Luke without acknowledging him.

He understood that she was frustrated, but was she really angry at him?

She was quickly at the door, grasping at the handle when Luke had snapped out of his thoughts, walking over to her quickly with ease, taking a grip on her arm.

“You okay?”

“Dandy,” She replied bluntly, looking away from the slightly concerned man, almost as if she was itching to get away from him. Normally, even if she wasn’t happy about being sent away to the safe house, she still gave him a goodbye kiss, but it appeared that he wasn’t going to get one of those tonight, “Gotta go. Wouldn’t want to keep Jacob waiting, would we?”

She walked out of the apartment without another word, but Luke’s eyes were on her retreating figure, “We’ll speak about this on Sunday, okay baby?”

He barely even seen the nod that she sent him before she disappeared down the hallway.

. . . “Please, Jacob,” She pleaded with the driver, with puppy eyes and everything but he tried his best to remain stony-faced. Jacob was the only driver that Luke trusted Bambi with, he had grown up with the boys too, childhood friends with Michael apparently, who Bambi had never even met before.

Jacob was the leading driver for the gang, one of the getaway drivers for bigger and more important heists or events, but normally he just got called in for private transport of any important members of the gang. He, as well as practically anyone who had ever met the girl, had a soft spot for her, and she knew that.

“You do realize if I take you there that I am directly disobeying orders of the leader of one of the biggest gangs in California?” He asked ridiculously, shaking his head with his hands placed firmly on the wheel.

“Jacob-”

“No,” He replied firmly, looking at the girl through the rearview mirror, seeing her begging eyes and sad face.

The man knew that everything was frustrating for the girl, especially when she had to get up and move out of her own house just so that Luke could host meetings and debriefings for the gang.

“Please, Jacob. I’m going to be cooped up in a safe house for three days without talking to anyone, at least let me go to Anna’s for a few hours. She’s been my best friend since I was three, she’s trustworthy.”

The black-haired man didn’t reply for several moments, and a frown fell onto the girl’s face before he started to signal off the highway. It was a familiar road, the one that she had taken many times before to her best friend’s house, and honestly, she had never been happier to see it. At least she would get some enjoyment this weekend.

“Thank you so much, Jacob, just tell me how I can repay you,” The girl said once she was out of the car, bouncing lightly in excitement while she stared at the man who was still inside the car.

He gave her a small smile, one that showed he knew how much appreciation she felt towards him before his eyes turned to the door behind her, “Just enjoy yourself and make sure he doesn’t fire me for this.”

“Consider it done.”

It was nice to see Anna again, it had been two weeks since their last meet up and they had both missed each other greatly. Anna was drinking alcohol, but the smaller girl wasn’t. It wasn’t like she was afraid of what Luke would say if she did, because she certainly wasn’t afraid of Luke, but even though she was angry she didn’t want to disappoint him.

Not that she had exactly abided by his rules anyway, considering she was with Anna right now instead of locked inside the safe house. The safe house had slowly become the girl’s own personal prison, it was bare, bland, and had nothing for her to entertain herself, and there was no company. That’s what she hated most about it, the lack of social interactions she could have while she was in there.

“-we were talking about the weather and shit right? Then he asked to see my tits! I was like are you being serious right now?” Anna rambled on, talking about another failed love interest that had been using her for her body. Anna never seemed to be lucky in the dating apartment of life, but she was a successful girl, and a beautiful one at that, she would get there.

“Was he?”

Anna scoffed, taking another drink of her alcohol, “Yeah! He blocked me after I sent him pictures of minecraft chests and asked him what ones were his favourite.”

The smaller girl let out a laugh, looking at her best friend who had a sly grin on her face, trying to hide it with the glass in her hands.

“Speaking of guys though, how’s Mr. Hemmings then?” Anna jokingly asked the girl, cocking an eyebrow with a smirk on her face, swaying to the music that was loudly playing in the background.

“He’s good, I mean he’s doing good,” The smaller girl quickly corrected herself before her dirty-minded friend could make a joke about their sex life or ask about it. Anna hummed lightly, still smug and still swaying to the music, “I was supposed to be going to the safe house, but I’m here instead, I don’t think he’s very happy.”

“Girl, you’ve been here for nearly two hours!” Anna cried out in shock, eyes wide at the clear defiance that the small girl had for her 6-foot-odd gang leader boyfriend.

“And?”

“He’s bound to know by now! He’s not going to bust through my doors with his gang and shoot the place down is he?”

The girl shrugged lazily in reply, letting some of her hair fall in front of her face as she smiled at her friend, “Yeah he does know, he’s been blowing up my phone for an hour and a half.”

Anna fell dramatically against the back of the couch, hand still tight around her glass of lemonade and pink gin. Her free hand was laying across her forehead with her eyes shut, “Oh please tell me you’ve replied.”

“Nope.”

“Oh come on, I really like my door, believe it or not, I don’t want him or any of his gang members kicking it down!” Anna cried out, giving her best friend a pout to which she just laughed lightly in response.

“He won’t knock your door down, he probably won’t even come. He’s too busy debriefing his gang to even spend time with me and instead shipped me out of the house. Why does he care whether it’s yours or the safe house?”

However, she couldn’t have been more wrong because less than ten minutes later they heard a roaring engine speeding down the road. Anna, who shared a quick look with the smaller girl, got up and looked out the window, seeing no other than Luke gets out of his very expensive sports car and towards the house, “Guess you were wrong.”

He threw the door open, thankfully not breaking it down, his eyes quickly landing on the small girl, grabbing her and pulling her off of the couch, planting her by his side. His grip was tight on either side of her hips, almost as if it was a warning to stay by his side and cooperate for once in her life.

“Anna,” His accented voice wrung through the room as he gave the blonde a curt nod. She waved back awkwardly, maybe too hazed by the alcohol in her system to stay anything intelligible back, and Luke seemed to realize this, “don’t stay up too late, get a good sleep, okay?”

“Aye captain, yes sir,” She saluted him back with a smile on her lips, almost diffusing the tension in the room but it was barely a second later where Luke’s grip retightened on his girlfriend’s hips.

“Okay, good night.” He bid her farewell, walking out of the house with his slightly anxious girlfriend behind him. It seemed as if suddenly she was filled with regret and guilt, especially after seeing how angry Luke was with her.

“It isn’t Jacob’s fault I-” She started when the door shut behind them, the cold wind of the night surrounding her.

“Don’t,” He spoke gruffly, turning around to look down at her with angry blue eyes before grabbing onto her wrist and dragging her over to his car.

Luke hadn’t even locked his car when he had rushed inside to Anna’s house, not that he would be too bothered anyway, it wasn’t like anyone was going to steal the gang leader’s car, especially not in this neighborhood. He didn’t speak another word to the girl as he took her around to her side of the car, letting her get in before he leaned over and strapped her in, closing the door without a single word and getting in his own side.

He started the car up and the only noise heard in the car was the engine as it roared to life and they began to speed down the street. His blond hair was messy, jaw ticking with his eyes glued to the road, never once straying to the girl in the passenger’s seat. Her eyes, however, never strayed from him, picking up every sign that he was furious with her. His posture was rigid, he was impatient, breathing loudly and not even acknowledging her existence beside her; he was seething.

She wasn’t sure if they arrived too fast or too slow to the safe house honestly. Luke still didn’t utter a word, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind him. She knew not to move already, she knew that Luke didn’t want her to move and honestly she didn’t want to aggravate him further.

True to her belief, Luke opened her car door, undoing her seatbelt before pulling her out of the car. His eyes didn’t stay on her as he stormed into the house, a tight grip on the smaller girl’s wrist. She tried to get his attention, for him to say anything to her as he entered the house but it appeared he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

The main room was still dark, but just the feeling of being in here makes her feel sick. She wasn’t overexaggerating when she said how much she hated the safe house. It felt as if she was defeated, back where she didn’t want to be, somewhere she hated, and with her boyfriend furious at her.

In the time that she had been thinking of how much she loathed the building she stood in, Luke had let go of her wrist and wordlessly made his way towards the front door again. The thought of him leaving her here, frustrated and alone all weekend made annoyance bubble in her stomach and before she can help herself she’s shouting over at him, “So that’s it? Are you just going to lock me in here and leave again?”

Luke stilled, but he doesn’t bother to reply or even look at his girlfriend, just standing there like a statue. She can’t find it in herself to regret the words that come out of her mouth, especially after she awaits the nonexistent reply, causing annoyance to bluster in her stomach. Her eyes roll and her arms flail slightly before they slap against her thighs with a low scoff falling out of her lips, “Typical.”

“Excuse me?” Luke turned around, his voice hard and powerful, one that would normally make her shake, make her look up at him with wide eyes unsure of what to say. Their eyes meet, his blue piercing into hers. He took a step forward, tilting his head slightly with an eyebrow raised, almost as if he’s encouraging her to repeat what she had said moments before, “What did you say, Bambi?”

Her mouth was agape as she stuttered lightly, any feeling of bravery that she had mere seconds ago fizzling away into nothingness. Her eyes darted from one of his eyes to the other, looking at the expectant and slightly smug face as he looked at the stuttering girl in front of him. She tried her best to find the right words to say but she had, ultimately, been rendered speechless.

“Come on, if you’re so big and brave, baby, why don’t you speak up a little? Tell me what you said.” He walked towards her until he’s right in front of her, chests barely ten centimeters apart. Two of his fingers make their way under her chin, pushing her face up until she had no other choice but to look him in the eye, holding her face in such a way that she can’t move easily.

Silence filled the room once more, simply with the two of them staring at one another. Luke stared down at her with a slight smugness and with her looking up at him still frozen almost. When he does talk next, he muttered quietly, almost condescendingly with anger trailing in his voice, “You ruined an important meeting tonight all because you couldn’t follow a simple instruction-”

“Well, believe it or not, I don’t like to be locked up in a house for days on end like a caged animal,” She doesn’t even register that she’s speaking until she’s finished, the words flowing out of her mouth cutting off Luke’s lecture.

“This house is to keep you safe,” His grip on her jaw doesn’t loosen at this point in time, blue eyes swimming with rage. In all of their time together, he doesn’t remember his Bambi giving him this much attitude or a time where she’s tried to argue with him like this. Sure, there were times where they had disagreements or times where there had been a little bit of attitude but he had quickly sorted that out.

“I was safe at Anna’s and I was happy. Isn’t that what you want? For me to be happy?” Her voice is quiet, bottom lip threatening to quiver. She hated how she cried whenever she got frustrated, and right now she’s barely holding back from her eyes becoming glassy. She’s frustrated and annoyed, but she doesn’t want to look like a baby right now, especially when this was her first fight with Luke.

“Don’t try and guilt trip me now, Bambi. It isn’t going to work tonight.”

“I hate it here! I hate constantly having to move into this stupid fucking house where I have nothing to do and no one to talk to! It doesn’t even fucking have wifi or anything! It’s dumb and all because you’re paranoid!” After she finished shouting, she ripped her head out of his hold, standing back and away from him, back coming in contact with the marble counter of the kitchen island.

Her arms are crossed over her chest, and as Luke processed her words, he shook his head. His next words are low, like it’s a warning, “Don’t shout at me like that.”

“I’m not-”

“Listen here, doll, because I’m only going to tell you this once,” Luke doesn’t even let her finish before he’s talking. His voice is forceful and strong, something he normally reserved for when his men do something stupid like ruin a drug run, “You don’t call the shots here, I do. I’m in a gang and there are a lot of people that would put a bullet in your pretty little skull just to get to me,” He pressed a finger against her temple, hard enough for her to feel the pressure but not enough for it to hurt her, “People die in this lifestyle and I send you here so it doesn’t happen to you. Don’t tell me that I’m paranoid because I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“I get it, I do-”

“Then why won’t you just do what I say?”

“Because I’m tired of being your secret.” She whispered, looking up at Luke’s blue eyes sadly, tears gathering in her own eyes. His head dipped a little, shifting his weight onto his hands which are on either side of her, trapping her against the kitchen’s island counter.

It took Luke a few seconds to finally muster up words, and just from his tone she can tell that he’s disappointed, maybe in himself, maybe because of how she thought of their relationship, “You aren’t my-”

“Then why have I never met Cal? O-Or Mikey? Why is the only time I’ve ever met Ashton an accident? And why do you constantly send me away even if it’s only people you trust going to be there? And-”

“Bambi,” Luke groaned lightly but got cut off straight away when the girl continued to rant, barely even realizing that he had tried to cut her off.

“This was supposed to be our weekend and you just sent me away. I was so excited to finally get a whole weekend of you to myself but no, I was shipped off to this shithole again-”

“This was all because you just wanted me to yourself?” Luke asked incredulously, an eyebrow raised at the girl whose eyes snapped up to meet his.

“That’s what you want, Bambi? You got it.” Luke said, his eyes staying on hers, never wavering as he commanded. He pushed back, hands off the counter and now standing at his full height, towering over her with his eyes never leaving hers, “Hands out. Now.”

“Luke what-”

Her eyes frantically search his face, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. She can feel her heart rate pick up, beating loudly in her chest.

“No, Bambi. You’ve done plenty talking tonight. No talking unless I ask you a question, got it?”

She nodded her head, gulping down the thickness in her throat as a thick leather wrapped around her wrists, constricting them. Her mouth parted slightly, she hadn’t even seen or heard Luke take off his belt, but now she can’t even part her hands anymore.

His head dropped to her neck and she can feel her stomach flutter simply by his breath fanning over the skin on her neck. His hand made its way up to the nape of her neck, grabbing a handful of hair and yanking on it so her neck is fully exposed to him, “You’ve me all to yourself tonight, Bambi. And you’re all mine.”

#luke hemmings 5sos #luke hemmings #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x oc #5sos #5sauce #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer x reader #5 seconds of summer x oc #gang!luke hemmings x oc #gang!luke hemmings #gang!luke hemmings x reader #mafia!luke hemmings #mafia!luke hemmings x oc #mafia!luke hemmings x reader

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fanmoose12 · 3 years

Note

and do you have any headcanons about levihan?

rant to us about the bbys 🥺

i guess it was from the same anon? ANYWAYS (remember that you asked for this lmao)

my first hc is about levihan's life during the time skip? we all know that hange works hard and levi is pretty busy too, and they don't really have time to spend with each other, so. kids decide to take it upon themselves to make sure that their superiors (and low-key parent figures) get the quality time they deserve. now levi and hange aren't really together, but after shiganshina they became very close with 104th, and the kids naturally assumed that levi and hange are a thing™? so once in a while, armin visits hange's office? he stands in front of the window behind hange's back, and says something like "....hm, the weather is really nice today, don't you agree, hange-san?" and hange mumbles something absentmindedly, continuing with her work? and armin, taking her noncommittal grumbling as sign of agreement, smiles and snatches the quill our of her hands? "i'm glad that you agree, commander! it's a good day, so you should go outside and enjoy it! and take captain levi with you, he's been couped up inside for too long! don't worry, i'll deal with the paperwork today." and before hange can open her mouth to argue, armin gives her a firm push, still wearing that same sweet smile "i've already prepared your horses and sasha made some sandwiches for you, so you can have the whole day to yourselves!" hange's too flabbergusted to argue lmao. levi suffers the same fate, as he was literally kicked out of his room by mikasa (initially, connie and jean were supposed to finish that task, but, well, they're still no match to levi's glare).

another hc that is very dear to me is about levihan's first hug? it happened not long after they just met, they aren't even friends, but since hange doesn't know the meaning of personal space, one day she just envelops levi in a hug? maybe, it happened after he saved her during the expedition or maybe, levi finally agreed to show her some of his moves. maybe, hange was too sleepy and wanted a hug (usually she comes to mike or moblit, but that day she saw levi first) ANYWAY. hange hugs him and levi didn't see it coming at all? he would have moved away, but now hange has her arms wrapped around him and.... it doesn't feel so bad? sure, she stinks a little, but she's also very warm? and his head fits perfectly under her chin? and levi suddenly gets very flustered because he doesn't remember the last time he felt so good? as for hange, she doesn't really think much of it, she does hug a lot of people, after all, but? she likes holding levi in his hands? he's tiny and it's a big difference from hugging mike or erwin, and hange likes it a lot? she swiftly lets go of him, because even if that hug felt nice, she still has a lot of work and she can't just embrace random shorties all day (even though she's not that opposed to it). meanwhile, levi's brain sort of short circuits and he stands in that hallway for the longest time, wondering what the fuck has just happened (and what he should do to make it happen again)

ANOTHER hc (remember. you've asked for this). during the expeditions, hange and levi are stationed together, right? so whenever hange is hurt and has to ride with the rest of the wounded, levi is restless af. his gaze keeps darting to the wagon hange is riding in, and everyone notices. erwin and mike barely can keep it together, wondering how long it would take for levi to break. soon enough, levi rides closer to erwin. he has a very serious expression on his face, as he says "erwin. the walls are still a distance away. titans can attack at any moment. i think my squad should move closer to the wounded, so in the case of emergency, we could protect them." erwin raises his eyebrow and then shares a look with mike. "you know, if you wanted to ride next to hange, you could just say so." levi's face doesn't change whatsoever as he answers "i don't know what you're talking about. i don't worry about hange, i didn't even notice that she's wounded. i just wanted to keep the others safe." erwin almost breaks and starts laughing, he's a commander though and he knows how to keep a straight face. he allows levi to change his position, and then watches levi bicker with hange up until they reach the wall.

ok, this is the last one (and really small), but. i just want to tell that i don't believe in hc that watching the disaster that is levihan is only erwin's favorite kind of entertainment. the veterans, their respective squads, the whole survey corps and other military branches adore watching these two idiots. snk universe doesn't have netflix, and i doubt that soldiers have enough money or time to visit theatres or whatever, so their main source of entrainment is levihan and their inability to confess to each other. every scout loves breakfasts, lunches and dinners because they can witness another session of levihan bickering. when hange and levi's squads have trainings together, it's a blast for everyone. most soldiers claim that they come to watch levi and his legendary skills, but, nah, they're all just waiting until hange trips or something, and then levi would scold her for being an idiot, while gently wiping her face with his (pristinely clean!!!) handkerchief. or when moblit starts fretting over hange too much and levi's jaw tightens ever so slightly? scouts are almost going insane. the tension! the longing! they love it

#........sorry if that's too long lmao #but my mind is levihan mess and y'all probably know it already #levihan

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willowistic22 · 3 years

Text

New jomike hc au!post college

I came up with this au in my head for awhile now some hc’s regarding this new au on a whim bcs i wanted to tell my friends abt it on a discord server. I thought it’s time it sees the light of day bcs i simply cannot keep it in me anymore. Also this is kind of inspired by the song Dorothea - Taylor Swift.

Everyone is graduating so que the sappy goodbyes as they’re all gonna be scattered not just all around the us but also all around the world

The couples made a truce whether to do long distance or they share the same dreams so they do it together

But mike and jojo didn’t make things work in the end so they broke up before graduation but still went to prom together

y’know those kinds of high school hearthache

Bcs Mike stayed in new york but jojo flew away (like england or sumn idk)

To some fancy elite school bcs he’s smart yknow

He wanted to from the start but he’s always been a bit torned bcs he knew from the start of the relationship mike was the one (call it stupid young love or whatever you want, i call it destiny:))

And mike never wanted to hold him down so he was the one that proposed the idea to him

For the most part it worked out

Jojo flew away to chase his dreams

Mike stayed and did the same thing

Both of them only kinda sorta moved on. Met new people but never fully stopped thinking abt the other. Wishing the other was by their side right now

And so they’ve gotten their degrees and gotten their dream jobs

Mike is a coder working in a video game company while jojo is in social media marketing after finishing business school (or whatever major required for that job field idk)

And they kinda hv their life together. Jojo living on his own in a studio apartment with a cat called Dorothea (see what i did there:)) money doesn’t concern him all that much bcs the job pays nicely and he’s good at handling his finances

Mike lives alongside with his brother ike in a nice apartment too. He manages to get a position that allows him to work flexibly at home yknow. He also has a new kitten he saved from the streets named Honey (bcs his fur is orange like honey) and since his older cat had died of old age

But mike lives with ike who also lives with hotshot. So he’s like always the third wheel. Even worse when ike and hotshot are hving the occasional double date with race and spot. Mike feels even more worse at those time

Decides to hide away in his room or go out with the excuse being work

And its even worse remembering he used to go on double dates with ike and hotshot when him and jojo were still a thing

So ike is like ‘yknow what? I hv enough of this shit’ and hv one good brother to brother talk

‘Dude. It’s been years already. How are you not over him?’

‘Bcs he’s jojo...’

‘Ok? So why don’t you call him?’

It’s not like mike has never thought of calling him. Very much possible. They still follow each other’s social media’s so if his old number had changed he cld always just ask from a simple dm since mike knows jojo is still active in his social media accs

But mike is like ‘i can’t. He cld be taken for all i know. Even if he weren’t, he seems to be doing fine on his own’

‘You can’t really get to know a person through instagram posts. Remember how you tried that the first time you wanted to ask him out? You thought he didn’t like guys and yet still went on a date with you anyways’

That was a real slap in the face type of sentence yknow so mike is working up a lot of courage and planned a lot on what he’s gonna do

He first wanted to message jojo. Seeing if it’s still okay to call and all. But he cldn’t figure out what to say so he procrastinated on that part

Ike got sick of it so he took the phone from mike and messaged ‘can we call? I miss you’

Mike was hovering in between i will murder you or thank you @ ike

Either way jojo texts back with his new number. It’s gonna add up on his usual phone bill but he thinks it’s worth it.

Ok so they talked for like soooo long

7?8?hours?

Basically the whole night for mike

It felt like high school all over again

They were just catching up with each other and talking abt absolute bullshit at the same time

Till they got to the point where they mentioned how they’re both single and the air kinda shifts

Deep down mike and jojo knows what this means

As far as jojo is concerned, mike was the one that messaged him that he misses him

It’s easy now for mike to word out come home without indirectly saying it out loud in case that’s not what jojo wants

Bcs after that catching up, he knows that as much as it’s a dream for jojo to work at a big well known fashion brand (he’s pretty fashionable lmao) and get free products that are usually hella expensive from the brand, he hates everyone he works with. Real snobs and ruthless when it comes to getting a higher position

The other things abt his new life is pretty interesting and he loves it. But he admits there’s always been something missing and mike so badly wants to be that something missing in jojo’s new life

So it comes out straight forward. Not like how mike had planned, but it works in the end. ‘Come home’

And jojo does exactly that. He agrees to come home for the weekend. He books a ticket to new york then back with only a carry on duffle bag filled with a few assortments of clothing and booked it out after telling dorothea he won’t be long.

He rushes to the airport bcs he kinda booked the flight that leaves for new york as soon as possible. Perhaps deep down jojo really does know what he’s been missing in his life?

He lands in new york on a friday night new york time

Mike tells him not to worry abt what he’s wearing bcs he just wants to meet jojo at a central park bench that has long became an important spot for them

Jojo insisted on meeting as soon as he lands which is tonight. So the whole time he’s in the cab, he’s like soooo shaky and nervous it kinda drove the cab driver anxious as well. Bcs like jojo’s not talking and didn’t like say anything abt why he’s going to central park this late at night and not to some fancy hotel as most travelers wld do when they first arrive at new york

The moment the cab stops, jojo basically threw him a wad of cash. Probably too much than the actual price of the ride but he just called out from the back of his shoulder saying it’s a huge tip. Secretly, he’s thanking the cab driver for not asking him why he’s in new york and why central park at this time. It’d most likely make him even more nervous

He’s running on the path. He doesn’t reach full speed bcs his duffle bag is weighing him down. He doesn’t even know why he’s going so fast. It’s not like mike has anything else planned

Picture jojo frantically looking around the area like he’s a lost little boy in the dark. Barely seeing anyone else in ten vicinity, so any figure out at this ungodly time rn cld only mean is mike.

But he’s growing worried bcs it doesn’t seem like he’s around

Until ofc ‘jojo!’

Jojo whips his head around and sees Mike walking up to the bench from a different direction

They didn’t really do anythign at the start. They just stared at each other while standing in the dark approximately 10 feet apart. Jojo waits for a sign from mike to do anything else, though mike was doing the same thing for jojo

Until mike decides to break the 1 minute long silence ‘jojo-‘

But he didn’t continue bcs jojo was already running up to him the moment his mouth moves and tackles him into the tightest hug ever

His duffle bag was dropped halfway from the run so there was no holding back. The hug very much pushed mike’s soul out of his figure as much as it did to his body

Thankfully, mike hugged back just as tight. If not, it was a sign for jojo that it wasn’t okay to go in for a hug just yet and he wld pull back really quick

In time, jojo did end up pulling back to look at mike’s face up close and whisper ‘i still love you’

Which is really out of nature for jojo bcs he’s never really known to be the risk taker between the two

And mike was so happy at that moment that he just pulls jojo in for a kiss.

And that folks, is how they got back together:)

So everyone has agreed that airplane food sucks ass (for the most part at least.

Jojo was forced to eat it on his plane back to new york but he didn’t like finish it

Probably bcs he was so nervous and it also didn’t look so appetizing

So after they’ve said their heartfelt ‘i still love you’s and etc mike took him back to his apartment after finding out he doesn’t hv a place to stay. He’d stay at his parents place but the de la guerra’s hv long moved out of new york. You can say the similarities between jojo and his parents are that they like to travel. They sold their house and ended up backpacking across the world to look for a place to retire inevitably. Last time he checked up on his mom, the old couple is driving to Netherlands.

So mike took him home and cooked him dinner. They hv the apartment all to themselves since hotshot and ike are out

Unknowingly, jojo had sat on honey’s favorite spot on the couch and earned a disapproving meow from the little cat

Not until mike had properly introduced them that honey started to be nicer to jojo. And so they eat dinne ron the couch and talked.

Mike admitted calling him has been on his mind for quite some time but was too scared to act up on it. And jojo said what he did just now was the most compulsive and adrenaline rush thing he’s ever done. The roles had reversed for the moment

But now they’re back where they’ve always belong. In each other’s grasp while looking out the balcony in the tiny living room to watch the sunrise and then getting surprised seeing ike and hotshot pile in the apartment

And so now they’re back. They make the most of the weekend to talk abt what they really want

Jojo wants to quit his old job. The firm is full of snobby and arrogant ppl

And it has him working almost 24/7. He doesn’t want that

Mike on the other hand wants to hv a period of his life where he’s traveling full time

So they took inspiration from ike and hotshot’s current plan : get a mini bus to convert it into a home

In conclusion jojo quits his job, moves back to new york along with his cat dorothea so he can live with mike to make that converted bus plan. After securing a proper job that let’s him work at home flexibly like mike’s, they get on with their plan and sets off to travel in their house on wheels with their two cats. They end up getting married ofc and lived happily ever after:)

Thank you and goodnight folks hsnsgsbssjshmshssmhs

#newsies #newsies headcanons #jomike #jomike newsies #jojo newsies #jojo de la guerra #mike newsies #tw animal death

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kuiinncedes · 3 years

Text

and you knew what it was

author’s note: i don’t know what the fuck this is i was bored at the beginning of my break lol and i wrote some stuff based on a prompt list and a random number generator that gave me “here, drink this. you’ll feel better” and it kinda like ,, grew ,, into a lot

i’ve been sitting on this first part pretty much completed for a while and i think i want to just post it and i have two other “parts” that are sorta connected and idk yeah lmao they’re in progress rn and hopefully i can finish them soon if i post this one i just feel kinda stuck rn :P anyway idk lol i like this part tho hopefully i don’t change anything massively in the other two that would have to change something here XD

basically 1539 words of shadowhunter!quinntina hurt/comfort (or an attempt at it) maybe like sort of warning for mention of death and injury tbh am i trying too hard to be a ya fantasy writer lmao

title from “you are in love” by taylor swift <3

as always lmk if anyone wants any shadowhunter things to be explained lol :P

***

“Here, drink this,” Tina says, voice shaky and quiet, unsure. “You’ll feel better.” She helps Quinn sit up a little and slowly drink the whole glass of… something.

Quinn wrinkles her nose at the aftertaste coating her tongue and throat. “What was that?” Her shoulders are propped up against her pillow, and she awkwardly tries to situate herself somewhat upright.

Tina shrugs, setting the cup aside. “Something Mike whipped up. Said it should help your strength and energy a little?” She crosses her arms, lightly gripping the fabric of her shirt at her sides—hugging herself.

“Mike needs to add some sugar or something,” Quinn tries in a joking tone. Tina smiles slightly but won’t really make eye contact with her.

The room falls silent and Quinn watches Tina, recognizes the expression on her face, her defeated posture, her smaller, quiet demeanor. Her outfit—a lot darker than what she’s often in these days, when she’s not in black gear.

And Quinn remembers a few months ago, when Mercedes had her own complicated encounter with demon poison. She remembers how Tina cares, how she loves, how beautifully, how much.

“Hey,” she says softly, and Tina finally looks up to meet her eyes. “Mike and the Silent Brothers said I stand a good chance for full recovery, right? So no tears,” Quinn urges gently.

Tina huffs a light laugh and wipes under her eyes. “No promises,” she says hoarsely. Quinn wiggles her fingers and Tina releases the hand clutching tightly at her side and obligingly takes Quinn’s, who squeezes reassuringly.

Tina keeps sniffling though, and it seems to be getting louder. She covers her mouth with her free hand when Quinn looks over and says quickly, “I’m sorry, I know, sorry, it’s Kurt’s turn to see you anyway, I should go—” and starts to untangle their fingers but Quinn holds fast, squeezing again and she looks into Tina’s tear-filled eyes.

“Come here,” Quinn says quietly.

“What?”

“Help me lay down, then get in bed with me.”

Tina pauses. “Are you—I don’t know if—”

Quinn smirks a little, starting to push herself back into a horizontal position. “I’m the one who’s injured, and I’m cold and I need my girlfriend close to steal her warmth, okay?”

Tina swallows and nods a little, replies barely above a whisper, “Okay.”

Once Quinn is lying down comfortably, Tina climbs under the blanket, facing her. Quinn tucks a strand of black hair behind her ear, wiping some of Tina’s still-coming tears as she retracts her hand.

Tina holds her wrist, lightly, almost only with the tips of her fingers, and presses a soft kiss to her palm. She lets out a slight chuckle. “Shouldn’t I be the one taking care of you?”

Her tone is lighthearted but bitter and Quinn brushes her fingers through Tina’s hair. Her eyelids flutter, half closed, and she releases a small, comforted breath.

“You’ve definitely already done a fair amount of taking care of me. And I’m fine,” Quinn assures, and she really is fine, aside from the fact that she just missed a few days being knocked out from the worst kind of demon poison and she’s still feeling the effects of that, probably will be for a while, but that’s getting out of her system now, and with its complete departure her strength (and ability to move without pain) should also return, if Silent Brother healing magic and knowledge is to be trusted. “On the other hand, you look like you haven’t slept in days.” And knowing Tina, it’s all too possible that she hasn’t.

Tina shrugs a little. “Maybe.”

“Do I need to call Kurt in here to tell me?”

“Fine,” Tina grumbles halfheartedly. “I haven’t.”

But do you blame me? is her unasked—and unanswered—question.

(Quinn doesn’t.)

Quinn tilts her chin forward a little to kiss Tina’s nose gently. “Go to sleep,” she says.

“Here? I shouldn’t—Kurt wants to see you,” Tina starts and Quinn shushes her again.

“Yes, here. Kurt will live without it, he knows I’m okay.” And Quinn knows Kurt is okay, and presumably will understand Tina staying for longer if he’s been around her the past few days.

She just hopes—knows, really—that Kurt has helped Tina, that they help each other. They’ve always been close on account of being the two who could always be found awake in the latest hours of night, talking to each other and recently, working on designs and drawings together.

But it’s still different right now, for these past few days, and Quinn thinks that if either of them slept at all, it wasn’t much. Especially Tina. Kurt had the parabatai bond’s assurance while Quinn’s been out. Tina had Kurt’s assurance, but it still couldn’t have been as good as knowing it herself. And at night, Kurt had the bond as an extra layer of assurance when he went to sleep, but Tina didn’t, and Quinn knows how Tina’s worry keeps her up sometimes, and how she sometimes chooses energy runes instead when she knows something is weighing on her mind too much for her to sleep.

“You need sleep, love,” Quinn whispers, and she feels the resistance fade from Tina’s body. She pulls her closer, tucking Tina’s head under her chin.

“I missed you,” Tina says with a small gasp, voice cracking a little in desperation. “I’m so sorry.” Quinn can feel her tears on her collarbone and she hates it—hates that she’s the reason Tina’s crying and she can’t do anything about it because she was unconscious and on the verge of death for three days and then the Silent Brothers kept people away for a few more and Tina didn’t know how she was for a week, and Quinn really just woke up again and she’s mostly fine and she feels fine but Tina hasn’t slept for days and Quinn understands.

“It’s not your fault. And I won’t ever leave you,” Quinn promises.

“You can’t say that for sure.”

“Shh,” Quinn breathes, thinking about both statements. Tina’s right, she can’t say it for sure, and she knows that. With their life and what they do every day, it’s the most unsure thing in the world. Even just a week ago, she could’ve died if the demon’s stinger had gone in a little higher, she could’ve died if there were any more of them left, she could’ve died if Tina wasn’t there. Tina could’ve died if Quinn wasn’t there. (Would have, a voice in the back of her head creeps in, less than a breath, and she suppresses the shiver that it brings.)

But if Quinn has any control over it at all, it will be true. She tells Tina as much. “I won’t leave you,” she says again, quietly but as vehemently as she can, and Tina relaxes a tiny bit in her arms.

And then for the other thing. “And there’s no way it’s your fault, okay?”

“If I wasn’t so fucking careless, you would be fine—”

“You didn’t push me into a demon’s stinger, did you?” Quinn continues to run her fingers through Tina’s hair. “You didn’t take its poison and inject it into my body. And you were killing the other ones. We could both be dead if you weren’t, okay?” Her tone is more blunt than probably necessary and she brushes Tina’s temple slightly in apology.

Tina burrows her face deeper and Quinn knows she’s winning, if only because Tina’s tired. But she needs her to know…. “It would never be your fault,” Quinn whispers. “Ever. Tell me you know that.”

After a second, Tina nods. “Yeah,” she says in a small voice. “Okay.”

Quinn can tell Tina isn’t completely convinced, but it’s a conversation for another time, another day when Tina isn’t running on a ridiculously small amount of sleep and probably an unhealthy number of energy runes, and only just coming down from the emotional rollercoaster of the past week.

Quinn presses a kiss to the top of Tina’s head. “Go to sleep, love,” she says again.

“Wake me up if I hurt you,” Tina breathes, on the cusp of sleep.

Quinn smiles, runs her hand up and down Tina’s arm. “You won’t,” she promises, voice hushed.

It’s a testament to just how exhausted Tina must be that her breathing evens out within a few seconds, and her body is still and loose from exhaustion, mind finally quieted, for now, close to Quinn and reassured, and Quinn continues to rub her girlfriend’s arm gently and thinks.

She thinks about the word she just used—twice, and for the first time. Not the first time in her head, but the first time out loud. But unlike countless other times when she’s questioned her decisions and even after so many that have hurt her, so many choices that have led her astray—led her heart astray… she knows it’s right this time. Now, here, in her room, in the Institute that changed her life for the better, her family within the building’s glamoured walls, next to the one person she would always want to be next to, she doesn’t need to question it. And she closes her eyes and follows Tina into a hopefully peaceful sleep.

#no one: me: writing the same shit in the shadowhunter au #lsdkhglksfj like this is just the same as my klaine one but a little different with elements from another quinntina one and just lk;j;kgjsal #original ideas we don't know her #hhhhh idk how i feel about the end but oh well #it;s so random :') fuck lmao stop complaining about ur own writing that ur posting XD #lmao me writing over my break: RUN ON SENTENCES GALORE #this and my jatp fic that i posted a little bit ago lol anyway #ummmm is that it (no it's not but i can't think of anything else i wanted to say lol)#quinntina #glee #glee fic #my ficsssss #how do i tag this shit #it's been a while lmao #me: feeling like shit bc i feel like everyone hates me bc i can't just text my friends without feeling like i'm being annoying #me: POST A FIC FOR VALIDATION #also me: posts shadowhunter quinntina shit catering to an audience of: me #anyway #yk what lemme ramble for a sec bc i don't want to make a post about it #i want to ask my friends if they wanna plan something but like it's always been me texting them about stuff lately #which is DUMB that i feel weird about that but that's always the thing like #i always feel like i'm absolutely no one's like 'favorite' person and like everyone has people they'd go to before me :DDDDDDD #which isn't like just me but still i just this combined with idk today just my brain being dumb and being really self deprecating and dumb #i feel like i'm not actually close to anyone and i don't think i ammmmm #anyway no one asked for this in the tags of a fic post lmaooo

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angelhummel · 3 years

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I’m gonna work you hard!! Do the season 4 episodes that you haven’t answered! (And if you chose Kurt as best character, you have to pick a second fave. :) lol

alsfjskl love you for adding the fine print of not being able to only pick kurt lmao. "luckily" for me he wasn't up to a terrible lot in s4 so i probably wouldn't have picked him anyway ;P

Thanksgiving -

My favorite song: when i tell you it's "let's have a kiki/turkey lurkey time"... i am not joking even a little bit. homeward bound/home is a close second tho

My favorite quote: "It's thanksgiving and it's sectionals, and i miss you like crazy, and i can't stand not talking to you even though i'm mad at you, because you're still my best friend"

My favorite moment: Klaine's phone call! of course. and all the loft shenanigans, as usual

My least favorite moment: the stuff with the graduates is pretty boring, even tho this is the one time it makes sense for them all to be back lol. the santana/marley stuff would've been interesting if it didn't devolve into rehashing quinntana's tired high school drama. im over it lol. also unique mentions her parents wanting to send her to conversion camp and we just gloss right over that (:

My favorite character: Marley. rip

Sadie Hawkins -

My favorite song: maybeee Tell Him

My favorite quote: Conspiracy theories make my lips get all chapped

My favorite moment: all the pretty dresses this ep. the boys' and girls' respective group performances. kurt being at nyada. and getting attention from an upperclassman. even tho...

My least favorite moment: baby got back is one of the worst performances ever on the show. also kurt's best gay "as long as you're happy uwu and i have a white noise machine wocka wocka" like shut up. ummm tina thinks she can get with blaine, puck is dating a sophomore... this ep is weird. oh also another line from brittany about eating literal trash lol

My favorite character: Brody. I want to see his audition for Magic Mike The Musical

Feud -

My favorite song: there's so many good ones this ep. maybe bye bye bye/i want it that way. it slaps

My favorite quote: It doesn't matter what you see. You don't get to decide for me.

My favorite moment: uhh the performances are pretty good. it's pretty funny. love seeing blaine and jake suspended with ropes, that's cool. and obviously santana taking rachel to the doctor and then their hug afterwards

My least favorite moment: psycho finn hiding in a hotel room in order to confront and beat up brody. will acting less mature than his damn students. and ryder being transphobic for a hot minute BUT he did realize the errors of his ways and apologized so he's not the worst one here

My favorite character: is there anyone worth rooting for this ep?? maybe Blaine and Sam. They concocted that little plan of theirs. That didn't go anywhere but...

Sweet Dreams -

My favorite song: this is one of my least faves ever and the music doesn't help :P i guess outcast bc marley wrote it and it's a group number

My favorite quote: "I was thinking about my friends. How I wouldn't be the person I am today, standing in front of you, doing what I'm doing right now if they hadn't shown me that I could. If they hadn't believed in me"

My favorite moment: steampunk!tina. and unique, sam, and blaine singing marley's song with her was cute

My least favorite moment: the funny girl stuff is so boring and it's barely even started. i hate college finn he's even grosser than usual. also omg the line about "it's like everyone has ptsd or something" after the literal school shooting omg

My favorite character: Marley! I'm glad she got to show off her original songs

#glee #glee episode ask #asks #answered #my thoughts #season 4 #episode: thanksgiving #4x08 #episode: sadie hawkins #4x11 #episode: feud #4x16 #episode: sweet dreams #4x19 #1908jmd

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

Text

This is awkward

Summary: could u maybe do a reddie x daughter where she gets her period, but wants to hide it from richie and eddie bc they’re guys, so she steals richie’s phone and calls bev for help. but like as she goes over to bevs house (maybe they live close) richie and eddie think she’s missing or lost and they freak out? i just feel like that’s such a reddie situation lmao

warnings: period talks

In retrospect, she really should have seen it coming. All the signs they taught you about in health class presented themselves full force, from having abdominal pain and a bloating stomach after eating a cracker, to using the bathroom more than she usually has to.

Never the less, it remained a shock when she wakes up at five in the morning to searing throbbing in her lower abdomen that leaves her helplessly whriting. The clock strikes six am at the exact moment she groans, curling her body into a fetal position and covering her stomach with her arms.

She lays still for a while, tossing and turning in an effort to find a pose that won’t hurt, but nothing helps, and so she decides to go to the medicine cabinet and fish out medication to reduce the ache. In order to do that, she removes the heavy silk comforter off her body, and shivers as her temperature reduces from the added coldness that sticks in the room. It’s nearing summer time, so the sun is gleaming up every last detail of the room even at six o’clock, rendering the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling useless.

She gets up, and as soon as turns around to readjust the comforter out of the corner of her eye she spots a red blood stain, soaked into the covers of her one person bed. Ellie’s first instinct is, embracingly enough, to cry, the sight of blood leaving her squeamish and ready to do whatever it takes to get rid of it.

Her pain tolerance is high, but the second a blotch of blood presents itself anywhere near or on her, it needs to be removed point black.

It clicks in her mind what this situation means and what the logical explanation is, but she’s still in a daze that allows her to calmly rip the covers of the bed an paddle downstairs to the washing area, carefully avoiding to touch the blood itself, free of any panic or discomfort, beside the continues stabbing sneers. Only after disposing of the covers in the washing machine and shutting it with a small click, she sobers up and worries.

Ellie grabs a towel of a mountain of dry-cleaned clothes that Richie was ordered to organize room by room but forgot after a last minute stand up show the night before and wraps it around her middle. The towel specifically is her favorite, colored blue with the animations of winx club printed upon it, as a child her favorite cartoon show, with her name embroider on the top thanks to her uncle Mike. A trait she copied from Richie was that she lost stuff so much that Eddie got sick of it and started writing her name on article of clothes and shoes so that if someone found it they returned it to the right person, and because at the time Mike was practicing embroidery, he sowed her name in the towel as a gift.

The edges of the towel are worn out and frayed, but the texture is soft to the touch and smells like sunscreen, in a way tied to a few of Ellie’s preferred treasured memories. It’s the only at hand though, and time is of the essence, and she wants to wants desperately to avoid any more blood spillage.

Scanning the floor while hurrying to a bathroom Ellie cautions that she stays upright and doesn’t hit her toe against the doorframe like she idioticly does time and time again. She reaches the bathroom she unlocks the door from its hinches and opens it soundlessly, her parents lost in dreamland a door over. She feels weirdly docile about the whole thing, not at all trembling or making rash decision like she foresaw whenever she thought of this moment. The bathroom door shuts behind her, and she silently awaits for any sound to emerge from Eddie and Richie’s bedroom, but none materialize, thankfully.

At that point, there’s not much she can do. The house is empty of anything remotely resembling pads, with Richie and Eddie not needing them and Ellie hadn’t required them so far either.

Having two fathers is a blessing that Ellie is magnificently proud of, and most of the time she forgets that core families usually exist of one father and a mother. Richie and Eddie fill up any void that a mom could possibly leave behind, and so she is often oblivious that her home situations isn’t ‘normal’. There is nothing that a mother adds that Richie and Eddie don’t provide her, but maybe this is the one exception.

Ellie learned about menstrual cycles and how to deal with them via sex ed in school, but at home not a word was ushered about this. Unintentional no doubt, since Richie took it upon himself to bring up as much cringe-worthy conversations to shy her away from trying anything stupid. She never brought the topic up, and it must have slipped from Richie and Eddie’s mind too.

She debates waking up Richie and Eddie to drive her to the store, but it’s too early for that, the sops opens at nine, and there honestly sounds nothing worse but rousing her fathers for something like a period.

Richie will joke, and Eddie will research the whole thing down to the smallest details to aid her with all the knowledge found on the internet, but what she would really benefit from is a girl simply explaining the whole thing to her.

The solution literally falls in her lap, as Ellie accidentally knocks over the parfum Beverly left behind last time she visited. Aunt Bev and uncle Ben live two streets away, in a giant modern home they fosters pets in, at the edge of a forest.

They reside there any time they aren’t on their boat travelling around the world, but with Beverly six months into her pregnancy, they swore to not go on any outings up to the birth of their very first child.

Both Ben and Bev work every weekday, but if Bev is home, she’ll be happy to help, Ellie is certain. She should call first, to let Bev know she was on her way and to ensure Bev won’t contact the police on her, a figure appearing out of the blue early morning might not present well. The only problem with that is that Ellie’s phone was dropped in the water of a bath, cracking the phone’s screen from the hard landing and drenching it in water, causing all the phone’s functions to give out.

Calling aunt Bev is only an option if Ellie locates a phone, and her best bet on that is her pops.

Richie obsesses over his phone, and while he says that’s not the case, Eddie humorously hid it once and it send Richie in such a frenzy he explored the whole house top to bottom and discarded any and all cabinets to locate it.

Eddie chides the overexercise usage and resorts to conking Richie over the head if he dares to divided his attention to it for over ten minutes, but it’s all in a loving way, Eddie wouldn’t ever dream of hurting Richie.

A compromise was formed, Richie promising to leave his phone unattended on the bedside table at the end of the bed, and Eddie dialing down his complaints. The phone can’t ramify it’s toxic radiation from that far, but it’s close enough that the alarm clock rouses them up if necessary.

Invading Richie and Eddie’s bedroom is a dangerous game to play at, Eddie’s hearing out of this world with precision and picking up on the smallest, barely there clamor, but assisted with a tad of luck, Ellie might be able to evade waking them. After all, she’d rather get caught sneaking in, than having to provide a valid reason she ought to shop.

------

The clock strikes eight a.m. when Richie stirs awake, the light streaming through the window in such a way it glistens directly in Richie eyes, and in order to avoid it he swivels around on his stomach. His arm covers Eddie side, snoring loudly right net to his ear. Huffing out a laugh, Richie retracts his arm to cover his eyes from the sun that maliciously demands him to wake.

Eddie sniffles, his hand lifting in search for Richie and sighing happily when his fingertips bump against Richie’s shoulder, tugging his arm back in position.

‘Too early’, he grumbles, smacking his lips to rid himself of his dry mouth and burying his head further into his pillow. Richie laughs, kissing his husbands bare shoulder and readjusting Richie’s shirt he’s wearing after.

Weekends are a synonymous with rest and sleep, but Richie starts the day bright and fresh anyway, cooking a giant breakfast with Ellie to lure Eddie out of bed under the guise of food.

It strikes Richie as odd that Ellie’s not up and about it yet, he strains to hear any movement in the house but he comes up empty.

‘Aren’t you gonna make me breakfast, babe?’ Eddie asks his lips curled in a teasing smile, accustomed to their morning routine.

‘Sure thing Eds’, Richie says gooey, slobbering a kiss on the first part of Eddie he can reach, his temple, knowing that Eddie revolts the thought of kissing without brushing teeth first.

‘Wait I was kidding come back,’ Eddie whines, outstretching his arms to stop Richie from getting up but failing.

‘You’ll be so much happier when the food’s ready, trust me. I’m going to wake our munckin up too.’

He steps away from the bed, pulling his shirt, bunched up thanks to the wild gestures he performs in his sleep, down in the meanwhile and yawns so wide his jaw protests.

His limbs feel lose and relaxed of waking up not so soon ago, and they seem to be begging Richie to crawl back under the cover and cuddle with Eddie some more, but tour life stretched itself through all the aspects of Richie’s life these past months, and he really long for some time to spend with his daughter.

As he stumbles blindly, his hand scours the miniature table, but the only thing he can find are his glasses, neatly tucked away in what must have been Eddie’s doing after Richie zonked out.

At first he thinks he missed it, but then his glasses help him see clearly, and he notices that the phone is no longer there.

‘Hey, Eds?’

The only answer he receives is a grunt, muffled by the blankets Eddie hides under.

‘Did you hide my phone again?’ Richie asks, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Eddie shakes his head without looking up, napping on.

‘Huh’, Richie responds, deciding to let Eddie wake at his own terms. He probably ditched the phone somewhere and is drawing blank on where it could be, but it’ll be found again soon. With a deflated shrugs, Richie leaves the room to wake up his daughter, excited like a kid on Christmas to rope her into mischief.

Eddie huffs, forcing the blanket of off him and screwing his eyes open, scratching at a spot on his back that insistently itched all night.

Soon, Ellie will run in with coffee, with a meticulous steady head so none of it spills, and announce that breakfast is prepared. Some of it will be burned, other things will be so delicious Eddie will look forward to it every day of the week till he eats it again. Regardless of how good the food is, the most important thing is that it’s family time, and that no interruption or distractions occur but the laughter and unprovoqued leering both Richie, Ellie and Eddie gathered throughout the week.

Eddie smiles contently, resting his eyes a tad longer and imagining the inviting warm smell flowing up from downstairs. What he gets instead is frantic running up the stairs, loud thuds that rattle the foundation and follow each other quickly, subsequently followed by the bedroom door ricocheting of it’s hinges.

The urgency behind it spooks Eddie, who scrambles out of bed before Richie manages to utter a word.

‘Ellie’s not here.’

----

‘Thank you for helping me aunt Bev’, Ellie reinforces Bev, who brought out mint tea and joined her on the sofa to watch tv.

The movie provided background noise to the conversation they previously held, Ellie a little intimidated otherwise.

‘Any time honey you know this.’

Bev smiles brightly enough that her pearl white teeth show, her hair in a braid swiped over her shoulder, she radiates happiness to a degree Ellie has never seen.

‘I love dad and pops, I do, but you know how they get’, Ellie grimaced, his hands twisting nervously in the hem of the shirt she wormed herself in on the way here. A laugh bubbles out of Bev, already nodding her head.

‘They mean well but yes. I’m glad you confided in me.’ On instinct, Ellie dropped her hand down to pet the soft fur of Ben and Bev’s dog, a lifelong companion to them but also to her. She swiped nothing but air, Ben took the dog on a walk in the park, leaving the two girls to discuss thing among themselves. It was sad she didn’t get a chance to say hi to them, but she figures she’ll visit again later.

‘I really should get going,’ Ellie starts, her hand enclosing the plastic bag filled with supplies Bev landed her gracefully. ‘Pops and I love arranging breakfast, so I should really get home before they wake up to me not hanging around the house.’

Bev blinked innocently, surprise grazing her features. ‘Well, it is nine am, will they not be awake yet?’

‘It’s not that late yet is it?’ Bev’s phone rings loudly, startling Ellie out of her stupor. Even from her angle on the phone, she deciphers her pops names before Bev announce that it’s Richie.

‘Oops’, Ellie mutters, grimacing as the severity of the situation begins to down on her. She’s in big trouble now. Accepting the call, Bev puts in on speaker, a hand apologetically stroking Ellie’s arm conveying that yes, Bev’s sorry, but Ellie might get killed today.

‘Beverly’, Eddie distraught voice shakes through the microphone. A sinking stone weighs Ellie down, flushed with guilt, she hadn’t thought she’d be here so long, she only counted a five minute drop by.

‘Do you know where Ellie is? She’s not in her room or in the backyard either.’ In the background something smashes to the floor, in addition to cursing that sounds more like roaring, and Richie running out.

‘I really think she snatched my cellphone. Maybe she called someone to pick her up?’

Bev attempts to capture their attention goes unheard, the bickering between Eddie and Richie hardly begun.

‘I fucking told you Richie, dump the goddamn phone so much.’

‘How the fuck is that my fault? It has nothing do with that’, Richie argues frustrate, it’s obvious from the way he snapped back at Eddie he is equally as overwrought as Eddie.

‘You’re right, it’s mine. I’ve pushed her away by being to hands on. I should have given her more freedom to do what she wanted and I-‘

‘Eddie no. I honestly don’t think there’s anyone less strict as you. You remember when she was ten and she asked for two ice creams in a row and you just gave them to her because we were on a vacation?’

‘Stop dad. Pop’s right, I’m not running away for fuck sake’, Ellie yells out eventually, frustrated by the conversations taking place.

‘Ellie?’ A chair is pushed back and screeches across the floor, intending on the floor Eddie hammered on about being careful on.

‘Stay where you are, we’re on our way.’ Richie grounds out, seizing hold of his jacket and racing to the car. The connection then severs and dead silence is left in its wake.

‘Good luck with that.’

----

Though Bev, Ben, Eddie and Richie live nearby, Ellie is shocked by the fast response as the car halts not fully parked, Eddie and Richie jumping out in pajama’s.

Bev opened the door, so they waltz right on it without regarding Bev, seizing Ellie in a close knit hug both Richie and Eddie participate in.

‘Don’t you ever, ever scare us like that again. You hear me?’ Richie threatens, his words crackling with relief that his daughter is fine.

‘I’m sorry, I won’t. I honestly thought I would be back before you knew it.’

‘Why are you here in the first place?’ The family remains close, Eddie’s hand holding Ellie’s forearm loosely.

A blush shoots up her cheeks, coloring them bright red at the question.

‘Yeah about that, Is it not enough for me to promise to never do this again?‘

#reddie #reddie x daughter #this is so bad #I'm sorry #my writing #unfortunately #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #eddie as a parent #richie as a dad #reddie as parents

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heathneycanon · 4 years

Text

okay so i ranked 113 total drama/ridonculous race ships based on how much i like them with explanations below the cut.. fair warning that i’m a lil mean to some of the ships lower on the list.

also i forgot to include dwayne senior and that one girl’s mom from rr because i literally forgot they existed until now, and i don’t want to manually add them in so i’ll just say that i think they’re cute but not super interesting.

EDIT: this has been updated post-roti-rewatch. i switched around the order of a couple ships, and added a new one. if i ever rewatch rr or pahkitew i’ll probably edit it again, but the likelihood of me rewatching either of those seasons any time soon is... ok i was about to say it was slim but it’s probably not

also i’m not ever adding in dwayne and the mom because i like it being a part f the description lmao. an afterthought. as it should be.

enjoy!

113. stephanie/ryan - i HATE the daters/haters. they’re like a weird, shitty mix of tda gidgette and duncney. like, they’re either annoyingly all over each other, or they’re toxic and fighting. tbh, they’re pretty toxic all the time. they stuck around for way too long imho.

112. jacques/josee - I CHANGED MY MIND IGNORE THIS

111. tom/jen - tom is canonically gay, and i hc jen as a lesbian. so i’m not a fan of this ship.

110. nemma - yeahh, knowing me, this is also a predictably low ranking. i hc noah as gay and emma as a lesbian, so again, i don’t vibe with this one.

109. coderra - i can only deal with this ship in rewrites. i’ve seen super well thought out rewrites of coderra and sierra’s character, but as it stands, i really don’t ship this at all.

108. davesky - dave is an incel lmao. anyway yea this ship initially seemed like bootleg zoke, which was kind of bootleg gwent, but then BOY did davesky get worse. i can’t stand dave and i can’t stand pairing him with sky, either.

107. leonard/sugar - why. i hate both of these characters. no thank u.

106. ella/dave - ok so u know i don’t like dave. i also hc ella as a lesbian, she hasn’t realized it and is dealing with comphet. i don’t like this ship.

105. topher/ella - i hc both of them as gay. they are friends tho.

104. macarthur/brody - in case you’re noticing a trend, i do in fact hc macarthur as a lesbian. i also don’t really care about her at all lmao. anyway, not a fan of this one. i really don’t understand why fresh thought this was a good idea.

103. noah/katie - again, i hc noah as gay, but this ship is more funny to me than anything else because these characters were shipped together so often early on, when they both a) barely had any characterization and b) had never interacted? anyway yea i don’t ship it.

102. cameron/sierra - this one’s weird? literally sierra had a crush on him or whatever because he reminded her of cody even though they’re… nothing alike? dude please get sierra some therapy oh my god

101. heather/justin - i knew someone who really, really shipped them once, which is why i’m including it. anyway i cannot see this ship at all, next.

100. amy/rodney - i guess this existed? i barely remember pahkitew, and i know rodney had a bunch of crushes, but this is the main one i remember so it’s the only one i can be bothered to include. anyway this relationship didn’t seem healthy at all.

99. max/scarlett - i don’t like max and i don’t really care about scarlett, but i also hc both of them as gay, so this is a no from me.

98. gwody - creepy and bad. i don’t trust people who ship this or davesky.

97. dashawn - shawn can do better. that one scene where they look at each other when dave has to kiss the person next to him is kinda funny tho.

96. topher/dave - marginally better than all other dave ships just because topher is there and i like topher. again tho, topher can do much better.

95. malejandro - why does this ship exist.

94. ezekiel/bridgette - not my thing at all. i don’t care about zeke too much, and i have a lot more ships with bridgette that i prefer over this one.

93. cody/beth - i only care about cody in certain contexts, and i practically never care about beth. i wouldn’t click off of a fic if this were a background pairing or whatever, but i definitely wouldn’t seek it out.

92. ezekiel/beth - again, don’t really care about beth or ezekiel that much. but in certain contexts, i can see why this would be cute.

91. courtney/jose - the only way this is cute is alongside aleheather, so that courtney and heather could marry into the same family. but also, why is this a ship that exists?

90. scourtney - i love both scott and courtney, but no thank u. they had absolutely no chemistry, and courtney was using scott both in the competition and as a rebound. not a fan.

89. gwen/cameron - is this a thing that exists? i found a screenshot of gwen kissing cameron on the cheek but is that edited? if it is real, i probably blocked it from my mind.

88. courtney/cameron - now i know this one exists in the weirdest, stupidest way the show could’ve gone about it. barely even qualifies as a ship, and it’s definitely not a good one.

87. duncan/zoey - i kind of see why others would like this one, but at the same time, it doesn’t really appeal to me.

86. alejandro/courtney - i love alejandro and i love courtney. but i can only see them as friends, tho i can see them like. kissing just because they’re bored. or to fuck with people. they did that in the show, right? kind of? i forget the specifics.

85. chris/blaineley - while i guess i can see why people ship this, chref is canon and blaineley is a lesbian.

84. katie and/or sadie/justin - why would katie or sadie date justin, when they’re in love?

83. gwuncan - maybe could’ve been good, but literally everything about how they got together and their relationship in canon has tainted my view of this ship. i definitely preferred them as friends in tda anyway. there’s a lotta cute gwuncan fanart out there so i do rb it sometimes tho. i see why people ship this, i get the potential, but for me it’s soured by world tour.

82. laurie/miles - who?

81. mary/ellody - yea ok they’re smart gfs, but also i literally don’t give a shit about either of them.

80. pete/gerry - they’re definitely dating but again i don’t care about them.

79. mike/cameron - not a horrible ship by any means, i just don’t really like cameron that much.

78. alejandro/justin - there are so many superior alejandro ships. and a handful of slightly better justin ships.

77. carrie/devin - wow they didn’t have a storyline that was original in any way! they’re pretty cute tho.

76. sanders/macarthur - would be higher but acab.

75. macarthur/josee - i really like the whole rivals to lovers thing, but again, acab. this is higher than sanders/macarthur because of the rivals to lovers, but mostly it’s because there’s only one bastard cop here rather than two.

74. owen/alejandro - i don’t really mind this one, but i see it as more of a one sided crush on owen’s side.

73. lightning/cameron - i don’t really care about cameron, but the jock/nerd dynamic is kinda good.

72. rockspud - they’re definitely a couple, but as the trend indicates, i really can’t bring myself to care too much about rr ships.

71. lindsay/beth - best beth ship, worst lindsay ship. i like one this better if lindsay is also dating tyler.

70. lindsay/lightning - a crackship i made up when i was eleven. i just think it’s really funny.

69. noco - not a bad ship, it’s just not my thing. i definitely see why other people ship it, i just ship both of them with other people.

68. ella/sugar - i see why people ship this as well, but i just really don’t like sugar. i can bring myself to see past that because this dynamic is genuinely good.

67. sierra/heather - i’ve seen this in au’s and rewrites of sierra’s character, and i see the potential. not bad.

66. bawn - they’re cute i guess? i just never really saw the appeal. they’re not bad by any means, it just seems kind of bland.

65. dakota/zoey - okay so i’m adding this one in as i’m reordering stuff because i rewatched roti. i didn’t have this here initially but their friendship was cute until zoey was all “she’s scary” and voted her off. just saying, if zoey wasn’t written as a hypocrite and was actually written as a COOL character that lived up to the potential of her concept, this would’ve slapped. also i love any combo of dawn, zoey, and dakota, because they’re cute. i’m not including poly ships on here because that’d make things wayy complicated, but i’d be here for a poly ship of these three.

64. scott/zoey - UPDATED. was originally “yea something about this rubs me the wrong way. i feel like if i rewatched roti i would remember what, but i’m not going to do that just for this list. maybe someday.” i ended up rewatching roti for unrelated reasons the next day, and honestly? this one is not that bad. could be cute, potentially.

63. dj/katie - i guess this one’s pretty cute? i don’t really remember them interacting, but i guess i can see why someone would like this.

62. dunhar - i see why people ship this one. i kind of like it? i feel like it would work really well in an au or a rewrite.

61. dott - UPDATED. was originally “i used to kind of like this ship, but now i really don’t. i do love the idea of dawn and scott as best friends who bully each other in the friendly kind of way, though.” but i rewatched roti and... this has potential. i kinda like it. still prefer the bullying friendship tho.

60. scott/mike - again, i see why people would ship it. i’m not sure if people actually do? but it seems like the sort of thing i might have shipped in middle school, so someone probably likes it. but meh, it’s not really my thing anymore.

59. topher/shawn - i don’t remember if these two interacted but i guess this could be cute? maybe?

58. sky/ella - yea it’s cute i guess? i don’t really have an opinion on this one beyond that.

57. dawn/dj - i mean… i get where this comes from. i fully understand. i personally see them becoming close friends, but i also see why people would ship them.

56. dawn/brick - again, i see them much more as friends, but i get why people would ship them.

55. geoff/gwen - this ship kinda interests me because it was originally going to be canon in camp tv, but because of that one gweoff friendship episode in island i see them as unlikely friends.

54. dj/bridgette - maybe you’re sensing a trend here, but i see them as friends. i could probably get on board with shipping them, though.

53. deather - i like them as friends more, but i do think a relationship between them could be fun.

52. ella/dawn - i feel like i’ve seen this ship? it’s not bad! i’m not the biggest fan of ella but this is pretty cute.

51. zoke - i really want to like them, and i wish they were written better. as is, i kind of ship them? there’s nothing wrong with zoke. but both as characters and as a ship, they could’ve been so much better.

50. noah/justin - this one’s interesting! i’ve never actively shipped it, but i can see it for sure. it’s cute!

49. owen/justin - again, not something i’ve actively shipped, but i like it!

48. carrie/kitty - i think they’re both in their late teens? like 18ish? appropriate ages for each other? if so, i like this one. they’d be cute

47. josee/jen - yea i like this. i feel like they would get along pretty well. they’re both successful in their own right. power couple for sure.

46. tom/jacques - again. power couple. i also think they’d go on double dates with jen and josee, which i like a lot. honestly both of these teams are the epitome of mlm/wlw solidarity. i like this one.

45. alecody - i like it! i don’t have much to say about them at all, but i like it.

44. brody/geoff - good ship! putting the romance in bromance. i like this one more when it’s combined with gidgette though.

43. anne maria/vito - originally i put “what is the appeal of this ship? genuinely asking.” as the description, and then an anon sent in this reply: “You wanted the appeal of anne maria and vito? Well here it is; they are both so dumb. Not a brain cell between the two of them. Imagine them trying to do anything domestic like. They could not assemble a bookshelf or make a pot of spaghetti without it turning into a horrible, but memorably fun, mess. They’re soft for eachother but would kick anyone’s ass for so much as looking at the other. Sorry im rambling lmao i just think they are so funny together”. i get the appeal now, so i’m moving this one up.

42. lindsay/courtney - lmao their dynamic is so funny. i don’t know how well a relationship between them would go, but i can see court realizing over time that lindsay is a lot smarter than she initially seems to be. idk courtney’s observant and lindsay is actually pretty smart. i can see it happening.

41. trent/justin - best justin ship, worst trent ship (that i can think of. i’m sure there are more trent ships but i can’t think of them lmao). i can see them getting along pretty well! i bet in universe a bunch of drama brothers fans ship them, because of course they do. i can see the potential here.

40. lindsay/heather - yea this one could be good. i’d like to see a post world tour version of this ship, or an island au where they get together. either way, i like the idea of this one.

39. lindsay/gwen - again, this ship is pretty good. gwen was kind of rude to lindsay at points, but i think after she stood up to heather, gwen gained some respect for her. idk i can see it happening.

38. lightning/scott - is this jock/farmer? jock/asshole? i’m not sure, but i really like it.

37. harzeke - tumblr user harzeke has opened my eyes. their posts are enlightening. the reason i kind of like ezekiel. harzeke is a good ship.

36. sadie/lindsay - remember in phobia factor when they were hyping each other up? yeah. they’d be cute together.

35. dundie - you know, i really didn’t expect them to make this one canon, but total drama dundie came outta nowhere. i wasn’t sure i was going to like them together, but fresh pulled together it’s first coherent plot in years and created a beautiful love story. very well done.

34. chref - chref is canon and u can’t tell me otherwise.

33. katie/sadie - after they got over their comphet, they realized they were in love and they end up having a really cute wedding.

32. ozzy - this ship is cute! they’re both bi and i hc they talk about cute people together because of course they do. also they would be so much fun to be around. i like them.

31. dj/geoff - djeoff? yea i like this. i think they’d both go out of their way to do sweet things for the other, but of course, they’re still geoff and dj. dj would probably bake a lot for geoff, but at least once, he’s gotten nervous and dropped it by accident. and geoff practices pick up lines and jokes before their dates but they’re like. the bad ones. dj loves them. anyway! this ship is good.

30. courtney/trent - i really, REALLY love them as friends, but i like them as a ship too! honestly i just love them getting along in any capacity. i think they’d be cute.

29. dawn/dakota - i made this up five minutes ago and i love it. i have no idea if people actually ship this but they should. just… think about it for a second. think about it and then try to tell me i’m wrong. u can’t.

28. alenoah - noah had a crush on alejandro during world tour, and u can quote me on this. i think they would be a power couple for sure. i like this one.

27. gidgette - season one gidgette is amazing. gidgette in the context of the killer bass five is amazing. season two and three gidgette is kind of meh to me, but not horrible i guess! i like geoff and bridgette and i think they’re cute together.

26. duncan/dj - i like the idea of this one. remember when duncan found dj a bunny? yea. they’d be cute.

25. jock - jock is good. rivals to allies to lovers. that’s the path i see this ship going down. i really like picturing them in any sort of au where they can kick ass together.

24. gwourtney - i used to like this one a lot more, but it’s still very good. i love the idea of them both mistakenly attributing their feelings for each other to duncan and accidentally ruining their friendship in the process. and by love i mean hate but also think is a good interpretation of the love triangle. i can see them together in an au, or after seriously reconciling in the future. or, honestly, in any universe where sundae muddy sundae doesn’t exist.

23. leshawna/gwen - did i hear u say best friends to lovers? no? well you’re getting them anyway. leshawna and gwen would be amazing i’m telling u. it’s a good ship.

22. tyler/alejandro - this is the third time i’ve said someone had a crush on alejandro during world tour, but. tyler had a crush on alejandro during world tour. i think they’d make a cute couple.

21. jashawn - this is a relationship built on respect and trust and i am here for that. they’re both a lil weird but neither of them mind, and they care about each other so much… i’m soft.

20. jasammy - i like this only marginally better than jashawn. honestly, i like all three dating the most. but anyway, jasmine was the first person who saw sammy as more than an extension of her sister… she stuck up for her. she was sammy’s first real friend. can i just reiterate… i’m soft.

19. evzy - they would light your house on fire together just cuz they were in the mood. eva bench presses izzy every morning. do not try to challenge them to any sort of competition, they will win by any means possible. eva picks izzy up at every opportunity. whenever they cook anything, they burn it. is this by accident or on purpose? i’m not sure. izzy likes lighting stuff on fire and eva likes eating burnt food for some reason, so it doesn’t really matter. i love their dynamic so much.

18. jomaria - if u were talking shit about either one of them, they would both get together and beat u up. they’re both legends and i love them.

17. gweather - total trauma comic has truly opened my eyes… i really like them in a future setting where they’re both more mature and can understand how they were both in the wrong at times during total drama, and ended up hurting people and were hurt themselves, and work through that together. so basically… in the setting of the total trauma comic.

16. heather/leshawna - rivals to lovers…. au where leshawna and heather get together during tda… i’m telling u it’s a good ship.

15. nowen - imho, this is both the best noah ship and the best owen ship. they complement each other so well. world tour nowen is just. the peak of their dynamic. i think enough has been said about nowen that you can understand why i would like it, so i’m just gonna move on.

14. trody - this one came outta NOWHERE a while back, i’m telling u. but i love it?? i liked their friendship in island, and i just. i love the idea of cody having a crush on both gwen and trent during island, misunderstanding that and thinking he just has a crush on gwen, and realizing after island at some point that he also liked trent. and then trent developing a crush on cody after the breakup with gwen and just… dijfalsfjla honestly i like them in so many contexts. thank u tumblr user gothcody for bringing the trody hype. anyway they’re a good ship!

13. bridgecourt - my favorite bridgette ship! idk i loved bridgette and courtney’s friendship in island, and i can see them having a best friends to lovers type of deal. i just think they’d be cute together, and their relationship would be really healthy and balanced.

12. gwoey - u can try and tell me there wasn’t a little something between these two in all stars, but u would be wrong. their designs compliment each other really well, they’re cute together… i’m a fan.

11. lesharold - SO valid. harold drinks his respect women juice every morning, except for that one time he rigged the votes in island to vote out courtney because he was mad at duncan smh. anyway this is a relationship built on RESPECT and CARE. they’re very cute together, and i love them.

10. dawn/zoey - the superior doey. listen the only reason these two weren’t friends is because fresh decided that zoey was going to think dawn was “weird”? but what if zoey just said that because she didn’t know how to deal with the fact that she found zoey cute… zoey is the epitome of that “i had a crush on a girl and i didn’t know how to deal with it so i sent her a letter that said ‘get out of my school’” tweet. n e way they would be such a good couple.

9. samkota - dafjlsflkaakf i think about samkota and i freak out i’m telling u. like is there anything. ANYTHING. better than a guy loving and respecting his girlfriend unconditionally? and mutual love and respect? … well i mean there are several more entries on this list, so okay, maybe a couple of things, but this shit is galaxy brain right here.

8. aleduncan - ok so apparently something i like slightly more than partners who are soft and even softer for each other is total assholes who care about each other. like alejandro is a gentleman… but he’s a manipulative jerk too. and duncan’s a fucking asshole and i love him for it. anyway when they teamed up in world tour, especially in that episode where they hunted ezekiel (??? what is total drama??) i really liked their dynamic.

7. lyler - ok back to love and respect. tyler and lindsay are so good!! tyler got so excited when lindsay remembered who he was right? and lindsay never stopped asking ppl if they were tyler ok. like she knew she cared about tyler enough to want to be with him even when she didn’t know who he was?? i feel like we don’t talk about the implications of this enough. honestly… i feel like people overlook how much the period in between tyler’s elimination and slap slap evolution must have sucked for both of them? like it was played for laughs but… that shit’s sad :( ok i’m done being sad they’re cute and they love each other and i love them.

6. gwent - yea u got me i still care about them. tdi gwent was really sweet! there was a lil pining. a lil outside meddling. and a lot of cute. and GOD during the finale when trent ran alongside gwen with that boulder? he cared about her so much!! of course action ruined it with the shitty portrayal of ocd and a healthy portion of not fucking communicating with your partner, but before that it was good.

5. truncan - you got me, i like the idea of trent serenading duncan with his guitar and duncan liking it a lot more than he anticipated. i think they’d have a dynamic that’s a little more turbulent than most other trent ships, but less so than most other duncan ships. they’d be a lot more balanced i think. i’m a fan of that.

4. scuncan - okay so u remember how i said i like to ship two fucking assholes together? scuncan is peak asshole/asshole rights. all stars totally missed their chance to have these two team up by dumbing scott down, whatever they did with duncan, and of course, introducing scourtney, i’m just saying. scott was actually playing the game pretty well in roti, and duncan was a veteran of the series. the two of them could’ve dominated the game. those fuckin assholes.

3. aleheather - okay now this ship was like, the only central ship that started out good and ended good in this entire series, except maybe jashawn but they don’t count because they were literally only in 13 episodes. anyway they did rivals to lovers right here. also, they simultaneously gave heather a great character arc and wrote alejandro super well. so the characters as individuals were great at the time they got together, and the couple was great together, so what i’m trying to say is… aleheather was and still is amazing.

2. duncney - in case u couldn’t tell from how high gwent is on this list, i am a fan of the tdi ships. another thing you might be able to tell from this list- duncan and courtney are two of my favorite characters in the series. so of course duncney gets a high placement on this list. not only that, but they go from disliking each other to really liking each other, which is something else that i really like. tdi duncney is opposites attract in the best way, where they compliment each other each other instead of clash. beyond that… ugh. eughhh. i don’t even want to think about that. but duncney in tdi alone earns itself number two on the list.

1. heathney - yes i love girls. yes this ship is pretty fucking basic. and no, there are no heathney fics on ao3. i will be attempting to remedy that. anyway, i could see them pulling a rivals to friends to lovers as well, which is one of my absolute favorite tropes. i think they’d be a total power couple. and to top it off, i love them both. a lot. so much. thank u for ur time.

#total drama #i also did this for all of the characters so lmk if anyone would like to see that #confessional

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harringtown · 5 years

Text

(time flies by) in the yellow & green part V

dont expect a lick of plot in this part!!! part 5 isn’t interested in furthering the plot, part 5 is 2500 words of completely self-indulgent fluff and angst!! ur welcome!!!

Steve Harrington AU in which the reader is pulled through the Upside Down and back into 1985. Finding a way back is hard, even with the help of new allies, and falling in love makes things ten times worse (aka a sprinkle of time travel, more monsters, our favorite gang, and a handful or more of angst)

part 5/? who knows at this point lmao

find the other parts here! or read on ao3

After three days of bed rest and dipping in and out of sleep, you woke clear-headed in Steve’s bed. You vaguely remembered being driven back to his house at Joyce’s request. Mike and Nancy’s parents may be oblivious, but another injured stranger taking refuge in their basement wouldn’t go unnoticed.

It was dark outside and the room was illuminated by the soft yellow light of a lamp. You pushed yourself to a sitting position, the first time you’d been able to do so in days, taking in the room. A pillow at the end of the bed, where Steve had curled up to sleep, afraid to get too close for fear of hurting you. Bottles of painkillers and fresh gauze on the desk. A small trash can on the ground full of red and white gauze.

The bathroom door popped open and steam billowed out, closely followed by Steve, a towel around his waist. His skin shone with leftover water droplets, and your gaze fell to his navel, to the line of hair leading beneath the towel.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, words dragging your focus back to his face.

“Hmm?”

“You’ve been in and out for a few days. Scared the hell out of me, you know. I thought we were in the clear after that first night,” he said, pulling open a dresser drawer and tugging out a pair of boxers and pajama pants. He stepped behind the door, and though he was blocked by the wood, your cheeks flushed when you saw the towel hit the floor.

“I’m sorry,” you said. He stepped back into view, toweling off his hair, mouth turned down in a frown. He crossed the room to drop down onto the bed beside you. He was far too close to be shirtless, but the thought didn’t seem to cross his mind.

“This wasn’t your fault.”

“Wasn’t yours, either.”

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

You grinned.

“I do.”

“How are you feeling?” He asked again.

“Just a scratch.”

“Yeah, that’s bullshit.”

You shrugged, “the painkillers are working fabulously.”

His lips quirked up. By painkillers, you hadn’t just meant heavy doses of oxycontin. He had just as great an effect. You were tired of pretending otherwise.

You reached out tentatively, fingers grazing his collarbone. He sucked in a breath and a line formed between his eyes. Your hand drifted higher, up the side of his neck, thumb tracing the line of his jaw.

“You said-you said we-”

Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe you just didn’t care enough to hide it anymore.

“I don’t care what I said.” You pushed yourself further up, carefully maneuvering closer. Steve didn’t move an inch like he feared doing so would make you change your mind.

“I tried not to care. I tried not to care about you and your stupid beautiful hair and you and your dumb jokes and-I’m tired of pretending I don’t care. I’m tired of pretending that’s not what I want.”

“And what do you want?” He asked. The answer was obvious, but he wanted to hear you say it. Needed to.

Your hand settled against his cheek - the uninjured one, of course.

“You, dummy,” you said, “obviously you.” His lips parted, and you wanted them on yours so badly you could barely think. You’d spent every moment since you woke up in the dirt pretending you didn’t want to kiss him, repeating it to yourself like a mantra.

“Here I was thinking you couldn’t stand me,” he said, lips curling upwards as he bent toward you, noses bumping.

“Like I said. Dummy-”

He caught your mouth in his and cut you off, hands cupping your cheeks, his fingers fire on your skin. He kissed you gently, like a question, not daring to push it any further than you wanted. Sweet, gentlemanly, but unnecessary. You didn’t want careful. You wanted to burn.

Your lips parted against his, defenses tumbling. It was like coming home, like puzzle pieces sliding into place. There would be no turning back from here. And you didn’t care.

You twined your fingers in his hair - the way you’d ached to for over a week - and tugged, earning a soft noise from the back of his throat. His heart thrummed against his chest and his skin was hot where it touched yours, and leaned further into him, aching to be as close as possible.

His fingers grazed your waist and carefully tugged up the shirt. You angled to help, only for pain to shoot through your side. You broke from his lips and gasped, scrabbling to find a position that alleviated the flames.

Steve, who’d shot up at the movement, knelt back on the bed, face pained.

“Shit, I’m so-”

“That one was my bad,” you said, catching your breath. Steve stared at you like he’d never seen you before.

“I’m fine. I’m not going to break,” you said, slowly shifting closer to him again, careful of your side. His head tilted to the side, lips pursed. You’d seen Steve in a lot of situations in the past two weeks; asleep, afraid, happy, tired, etc. But this was new. This…eyes open wide like a child’s, plump lips parted, gaze darting between your eyes and your mouth.

“What happened to starting something we can’t finish?” He asked.

“I don’t care. I just-I just want you. For as long as we get.”

“Yeah?” he bent closer, lips curling upwards.

“Yeah,” you said, pressing your lips to his, stomach flopping at his touch.

“We should probably make up for lost time, then,” he murmured against your mouth. You smiled and threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer.

“What’d you have in mind?”

His nose grazed yours and he dragged its tip up the bridge of your nose before pulling back.

“Tomorrow night. I’m taking you out.”

“Taking me out?”

“A proper date. A shitty movie and shitty popcorn and no monsters.”

You grinned. “You had me at shitty popcorn.”

“You know, they have rides at amusement parks for this movie,” you said, taking the Treasure Island tickets from Steve as he shoved his wallet back in his pocket. Once he’d freed his hands, he reached out and took one of yours, threading your fingers together.

The ache in your side had almost dissipated and only twinged when you stepped on your left leg. But in the old movie theater - which, you realized, was only old to you - with its butter smell and funky carpet, with Steve holding your hand and balancing a popcorn in one arm, it felt normal. Like a typical girl and boy going on a date.

“It better be good, then,” Steve replied.

“I bet they’ll give you a refund and a profound apology if it's not.”

Steve snorted, meeting your gaze with a smile. The scratches on his face had scabbed, the redness surrounding them lightening, leaving a pretty face with a few lines.

“Wait, did we get the Reeses pieces?”

Steve made a face. “I’m still not sure about this popcorn and chocolate thing.”

“Good thing I didn’t ask if you were,” you said, grinning, “Can I have some cash? I’ll run and grab it.”

“If you run, you’ll pass out,” he countered. You pulled your hand from his to flip him the bird, and he smiled as he pulled out his wallet and tugged a fiver out, handing it to you.

“And if you’re not nice, you won’t get any sugar. Chocolate or otherwise.”

“Please, never say that again.”

“What? Sugar?” You asked, stretching up on your toes, brushing your lips against his. He leaned into you, lips parting, but you pulled back before he could deepen the kiss with a wicked grin. He groaned, snaking a hand out to catch your wrist.

“Not cool.”

You tucked the cash into your pocket.

“Be back in a sec,” you said. Steve squeezed your hand once, not letting go until he had to. You’d just dropped his fingers when a voice made Steve stiffen like he’d been hit.

“You have to pay for it now, Harrington?”

You turned to find a boy and two girls your age approaching. The ringleader, with dark hair and too many freckles, grinned like he’d just told the funniest joke in the world, and the blonde and redhead beside him looked unimpressed.

“The hell do you want, Tommy?” Steve asked through gritted teeth.

“Oh, come on, Steve! Introduce us to your date? If she’s cheap, I might take a go,” Tommy said. The blonde on his arm rolled her eyes, but when they settled on Steve, there was hatred in them.

“You’re gonna want to shut the fuck up, Halloway,” Steve warned.

“What? Don’t like us talking bad about your harlot?” He asked. Steve’s hands tightened into fists, and you grabbed his arm to keep him from swinging at the other boy’s face. Not that he didn’t deserve it, the asshole.

“He’s not worth it, Steve,” you urged in a low voice.

“How far King Steve’s fallen!” Tommy announced, voice drawing the attention of bystanders.

“We’re not in high school anymore, dipshit,” Steve retorted.

“I mean, first, you get dumped by Nancy Wheeler of all people, and now, you’re paying girls just to be seen with you-”

You didn’t hit him because you were angry, or because you were upset. You hit him so that Steve didn’t. You hit him because you wanted to.

You lunged and slammed your fist into his nose, knuckles finding purchase with a sickening crack followed by a steady stream of blood. Tommy groaned as the pain rolled in, eyes widening in shock as his brain caught up with his body.

“Holy shit!” Steve exclaimed as Tommy fell back, butt hitting the carpet, a hand coming up to cup his broken nose.

“Holy shit,” Steve said again. Pain had sparked along your abdomen, wetness spreading along your shirt, but it was worth it for the look on Tommy’s face as he gaped up at you. The girls with him stumbled back when you took a step toward Tommy, and a grin tugged on your lips.

“You’re gonna have to re-break nose that before you set it if you don’t want to look even more ridiculous than you already do, dipshit,” you spat, narrowing your eyes at the boy on the carpet. You weren’t sure whether the shock or the blood streaming down his chin had rendered him silent, but you were just glad not to hear his stupid voice anymore.

You met the blonde’s gaze - her eyes full of hatred and fear for you, the crazy stranger - and arched your brows in a silent question. You’d definitely reopened your stitches, and your hand throbbed, but you were more than willing to throw one more punch.

The girl huffed and knelt beside Tommy, the redhead following suit as you turned and made your way back to Steve, the pain finding a home now that the adrenaline had worn off. The elation in Steve’s eyes dissipated at the sight of you: pale-faced, favoring your left side, a tiny patch of red bleeding through your shirt.

“Jesus,” Steve cursed, wrapping an arm around you and catching the weight you couldn’t bear to carry anymore.

“I’m okay,” you huffed.

“You’re not, which is why I’m taking you to the bathroom,” he said, leading you toward a handicap bathroom and pulling you in. You let go of him and leaned against the wall as he locked the door.

He came to stand in front of you, concern woven into his features, and reached to tug your shirt up, hands hesitating a few inches away. You nodded, and he carefully lifted your shirt. A few days ago, you might have blushed at taking off your shirt in front of a boy, but seeing as he’d been changing your bandages for days, the modesty had disappeared.

Setting the ruined shirt on the counter, Steve turned his attention to your stomach. His fingers ghosted across your skin, bringing pain and something else, something pleasant and fluttery. You held your breath, tense beneath his touch.

“The stitches held. They’re just…I don’t know, leaking a little bit. I’m not a doctor, so honestly, you might die,” he said with a shrug, meeting your eyes with a smile.

“That’s reassuring,” you said.

“What you did out there-I mean, that was incredible. Like, really badass.”

“I had to knock his ego down a peg. I mean, the guy was practically in the sky.”

“Oh, I think you knocked it down more than a peg. He’s never gonna live that down.”

You slung your arms around Steve’s neck, smiling.

“Yeah?”

“Never,” Steve assured you.

“Good. My legacy here can carry on after I’m gone,” you said. The words were meant to be a joke, but Steve took them like knives, stiffening and pulling out of your grasp.

“Steve-“

He shook his head, turned partly away from you, and raked a hand through his hair. “You know, I forgot. I actually forgot for a whole ten seconds that you…”

“That I can’t stay.”

His jaw clenched. You crossed the small bathroom and took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

“Look. Can we just pretend, for a little bit longer, that things are normal? That this is a normal date? That…we didn’t come in here so you could check my stitches because a monster from another dimension tried to kill me?”

He held your gaze for a long moment, the frown giving way to a wicked grin, “And what did we come in here to do?”

“I’m not saying it.”

“You have to.”

“Or what?”

“Or,” he said, “You won’t get any sugar from Steve.”

You snorted, shaking your head, and shoved the remaining giggles down your throat.

“That was, an I’m not exaggerating when I say this, fucking terrible,” you said.

“What are you gonna do about it?” He asked, arching a brow. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, pausing only a moment before pulling him to you. His hands found your waist, careful of the bandage, and you shuffled backward, dragging him with you.

You hit the marble sink, a hand falling to steady yourself. Steve broke from your lips long enough to say, “Jump,” before he kissed you again. You did as he said, and he caught you, lifting you up onto the sink. If you hadn’t been so drunk on the kiss you might have thanked him for not making you stand any longer, so you settled for the unspoken, nudging his lips apart with your tongue.

“Sorry we’re missing the movie,” you murmured against his mouth. His lips traveled down your cheek, skimming your jawline.

“It’s okay. I’ll just wait for the ride,” he said, and brought his lips back to yours.

#brooke writes fic #im! a! fluff! hoe!#time flies by au #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington au #steve harrington imagine #stranger things au #stranger things fic

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har-rison-s · 5 years

Text

heaven: 3

take it in

request/plot: Stan x Reader where they were together back in Derry and kind of forgot about each other after moving away but they always had a void in their lives. And then when Stan is just about to do it after Mikes call his phone rings and it’s you and you’re crying after just getting off the phone with Mike to come to Derry. You both end up going back and seeing each other at the restaurant and you guys just catch up after all these years that passed and old feelings come back. A/N: Y'all ain't ready for what you're about to read hHEHEHEHEH. Lmao. I had some huge inspo to write this, so thank god for that! Hope you still like this series, and I hope to do you guys and myself justice with this and the following parts. Happy reading! warnings: smut, feelings, 'heavy stuff'.

word count: 1.6k (surprisingly)

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gif credit goes to owner, which is not me!

The Losers Club are a mess, that is certain. Only Y/N and Stanley seem to hold a clear sight and a clear mind out of all eight of them. But, they were just as emotional. And in a panic, too. None of them want to die, they're scared of death, their survival instinct is stronger than ever. As much as they can delay the possibility of them dying, they will do it.

Y/N holds Beverly's shaking shoulders as puffs of smoke surround them both now. Beverly's crying as she tells her friends what kind of fate awaits them all if they don't stop IT now, in this cycle. She claimed to have seen all her friends die horribly, and it scared Y/N and her both. She had forgot these sort-of predicaments until now, and Y/N wondered how scared Beverly must be having these images she saw twenty-seven years ago in her mind again.

There is also a hand on Y/N's shoulder. It belongs to Stanley. A comforting gesture, just like her hands are on Beverly, to give her comfort. But there is a difference in Stanley's hold. There's sort of an electricity in it. One that's bound to be released. And they both know when it's gonna be.

When they look at each other, Y/N having to look from below Stanley due to where she was sitting, they can't seem to look away. Stanley's eyes are magnetic and pulling her towards him. Y/N's are inviting, daring and challenging, almost, challenging him to do what he's afraid to. One of the many things on that list. She's asking him to risk everything. And he wants to say yes.

Stanley's a little sceptical of how Bill looks. The man looks dazed, almost drugged. Stanley looks to Mike and he has got a pleased look on his face. The look of achievement. Stanley realises he's convinced Bill with some hallucinogenics. God, they're truly a mess. What lengths does Mike have to go to convince his scared friends. It seems silly that he has to do what he's done. They're his best friends, after all.

Richie and Eddie are ready to leave any second, but Bill convinces them to stay. With great effort, though, the two are set on leaving this exact second and from Stanley's memories, both men are very stubborn. But since everyone is adamant to stay except for Eddie and Richie, they realised they have to stay, after all. The Losers Club can't stop IT if they're not all together. Richie and Eddie know that well.

Mike goes back to the Library for the night, making a deal with his friends that they'll meet before sunrise of the next day at the Library. All eight will need a normal night of sleep before their journey. Journey back to the past to protect the future. But how can they sleep? How can they be at peace, thinking of what would await them.

Insomnia tortures Richie, so he goes into Eddie's room to see if Eddie's awake, too. He is, and Richie's sudden presence scares him a little. They stay up, talking to each other while they play cards, their voices soft. Sometimes their voices die down, sometimes they get higher and sometimes even louder.

Beverly found solace in being awake by going to Bill. They also stayed awake together, talking from time to time. Mostly about memories of Derry and each other. Some things almost lead to other things, almost. Tension is definitely thick in the air in Bill's room once Beverly came in.

Ben, as always, is alone. He thinks he's always going to be alone, and is now used to it already. He is his own best friend. He's never felt lonely in his life, but when he knows Beverly is in Bill's room, Ben Hanscom feels like the loneliest man in the world. He pulls out the folded page he's kept in his wallet for years, and looks at it. The light from the street lamp shines through the window and onto the page, making it easier for Ben to read what it says, for the hundredth time. He sighs.

The instant Stanley's room door was closed, they were on each other. All over each other, breathing and taking in one another. Remembering how the other felt, what they liked, how to please the other. They're re-discovering each other, how they were together, how they felt in moments of heat.

Y/N and Stanley are tearing at each other's clothes and skins and lips and hair, they're mad together. They're mad to spend every second of the night together, spend the time given to them wisely. Who knows what the sunrise and morning will bring? Who knows what the next day will bring to them? Not one moment must be wasted.

They don't need sleep, they don't need rest. They don't need anything except each other. And the high they got off the other. The pair could do with only that to survive the rest of their lives.

Y/N can't remember Stanley ever being so bold, so brutal in making love. Sure, they'd done it a few times until he had to leave after high school. But no time was ever as vile and as desperate as this. And she loved it. There were no words, no questions, no hesitation. There was only missed-out love and desperation.

The pair hadn't even undressed completely when Stanley entered Y/N with his cock full of desire. Her head fell against the poor thin hotel door and she screamed. Stanley grunted and tilted her head back in its previous place. So she'd be facing him.

Stanley kept his eyes locked on Y/N while he thrusted into her and she whined and moaned, as well as he kept his hands on her hips. Her hands were taking turns roaming and squeezing his back and the back of his neck, and she tried her best to keep their eye contact. But it was hard. And, damn, Stanley was so hard. Y/N felt like she would die then and there from it, even without going back to Neibolt.

It would be hard not to hear them screwing like complete animals if you were standing at the hotel's entrance. Ben was sure Y/N and Stanley could be heard all over town. Eddie and Richie used the hotel-given ear plugs - with their disadvantages -, and Bill and Beverly decided they should split and spend the rest of the time remaining in their own separate rooms.

But when Y/N and Stanley reached their orgasms, my God, what their friends heard before wasn't even close to being as loud as that was. They had never imagined that Stanley and Y/N, the most shy people from them eight, would be this loud during sex. But Beverly guessed there wasn't just pleasure in those screams. There was terror and desperation, there was hope and praying to a higher power. And she had guessed right.

Y/N stayed held against the door by Stanley. They needed a little while to regain themselves, their breaths, their ever-so-clear minds. Well, their minds were hazy with a thick fog, and would be for a while, and there was no escaping it. An amnesia-like fog that made them ignorant to everything else except the other and the other's touch, and their love. It was love, both of them were sure. It had returned, and it's stronger than ever.

Stanley, now with a bit of a clearer mind, pulled Y/N against his chest and carried her to the hotel bed. He undressed her slowly, completely, and kissed every aching and non-aching part of her skin tenderly. And it made Y/N cry.

She was crying because she now felt what she had missed all her life. Who she had missed, and what he would have given her if they had never separated. What they could have had together, what they could have felt together. How their lives would be much, much better if only they had never parted.

Each kiss he gave her was worth two tears from her. And when Stanley realised she wasn't in fact moaning or whimpering, but that she was crying, he kissed her tears, which meant kissing her cheeks, her lips, her neck, her hair. And he kissed every part. Which only made her cry more.

She cried about the time they had missed, the opportunities left unused, the kisses given to strangers. Everything they could have had.

Stanley held her and, as they both lay there, now completely bare and exposed to the cold, horrible hotel air that reeked of sterilisation, looked in her eyes. He softly pet her hair and held the hand of hers that lay between them on the bed with his other hand. And they kept their eye contact strong, they were sure they didn't blink once.

Even as teenagers, they could stare into each other's eyes for hours without getting bored or getting distracted. They could do nothing else but that. Not many people can. But it was one of their… things. And it was still strong now, almost three decades later.

The moon and the street lamps shone onto the two lovers in the hotel room, to someone's eyes they'd look like a perfect painting in this light. These two lovers in a perfectly-made bed that was hardly touched. They were surrounded by the smell fo sex, the sound of sobs, the glistening of tears and sweat. By the words they want to say to each other, the longing and what-ifs that they want to voice. But they don't want to ruin this perfect moment, and the next, and the next. Y/N and Stanley want to cherish this complete silence and calm, before the storm hits them and hits this perfect atmosphere.

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If you'd like to be in one of these lists, please let me know!

#stan uris x reader #stan uris imagine #stan uris imagines #stanley uris x reader #stanley uris imagine #stanley uris imagines #adult!stan uris imagine #adult!stanley uris imagine #adult!stan uris x imagine #adult!stanley uris x reader #adult!stanley uris request #adult!stanley uris smut #adult!stanley uris smut imagine #har-rison-s writes #har-rison-s writings #har-rison-s work #har-rison-s series #heaven series #heaven part three

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pianoandcookiedoughlover · 4 years

Text

this is the fix-it fic -ish thing where i basically rewrote the scene where zoe apologizes to kat, because i feel like kat deserved a better apology and i wanted to look more into why zoe did what she did. i also didn’t want to go down a romantic route with this because i don’t think it’s the right time yet - kat deserves a proper apology without some romantic thing happening to try and cover up the fact that zoe did screw up.

it’s mostly dialogue driven and not very flowery, partly because i wanted it to make more sense in a tv show context, but also because i’ve gotten into the habit in writing in that sort of style with one of my own personal projects (scriptwriting).

anyway, hope you enjoy! this is just my take on it, but i’d be curious to hear what you guys would’ve preferred in that scene, or if you liked it the way it was! :)

p.s. i’m sorry if some of the details are incorrect, my bbc iplayer is all fucked up now and won’t let me watch anything to consolidate the things i wanted to check as i was editing - hopefully i get it fixed by thursday lmao

After a disappointing first half, the girls walk tiredly back to the changing rooms. Kat stands out, however, furiously moving past everyone else as Zoe chases after her.

“Kat, wait! Just hear me out.”

“Why, so you can lie again?”

They have now made it to the changing room. The other girls on the team stay out of this argument, minding their own business. Zoe and Kat stare at each other in the middle of the room.

“Okay, I admit it, it was me,” Zoe confesses. “I didn’t steal it. I found it in the girl’s changing room. I was going to give it back to you, I really was. And then I didn’t, and I’m really sorry.”

“Why?” Kat’s tone is cold - she is understandably not willing to let Zoe off the hook that easily. Zoe sighs and swallows, trying to reflect. But really, looking deep within herself, she can’t seem to find a logical explanation.

“I don’t know. I heard you bad-mouthing me to Ruby, saying you thought I was a thief. So I kept it.”

“I never said that.”

“I heard you!”

Kat thinks back to the day when she lost her pendant. But then before that, how rude and cold Zoe was being towards her during her first few days at Phoenix.

“Okay, my mistake for thinking that you wanted to hurt me after you completely iced me from the moment we met.”

Zoe looks down to the ground, not wanting to look Kat in the eye. She knows how she acted and she’s not proud of it. “Look, can we . . .?” She nods her head to the room across the hall. Kat looks to where she just indicated and nods herself.

The pair leave the other girls in the changing room to get some privacy. Zoe closes the door behind her in the other changing room and sighs.

“I’m really sorry, Kat.”

“Why did you treat me like that? I hadn’t done anything to you and you acted like I’d killed your dog or something.”

“It wasn’t you, Kat. It was -”

“Oh, let me guess, you?”

“Yeah.”

Kat scoffs at this response, which, in her opinion, is weak. A cop-out. Zoe grimaces, knowing that it was the wrong way to explain things.

“Okay, not like that,” she says, taking a step closer to Kat. “All of this, from me being so cold to you, to me keeping the pendant, it was my fault. You didn’t deserve it.”

“But why?” Kat’s voice is desperate now, pleading.

“I . . . I’m such a rubbish person.” Zoe sits down on one of the benches, running her hands through her hair. Kat remains standing up, not wavering until she figures out what’s really been going on. She folds her arms over her chest.

“A couple of years ago, there was a girl, Jack, on the team.”

“That one on the Archfield team?”

“Yeah,” Zoe says softly. “She was the one who actually started Phoenix. But, I don’t know, it felt like she would get everything she ever wanted, as long as she put a little effort into it. And I . . . I was jealous.”

Kat softens a bit, uncrossing her arms.

“My mum . . . she has MS. And for years, I was taking care of her without any help. I would have to come back home after school and be the mum because mine wasn’t able to move off the sofa. And when I’d see Jack at school, laughing, never having to worry about what food she was going to have that night, or whether her mum was going to need to go to the hospital, or how bad of a state the house was going to be in when she came home, I was angry. Really angry.”

“I didn’t know that,” Kat says quietly, sitting down next to Zoe.

Zoe shrugs. “How could you? I didn’t tell you. The problem was, I was paranoid. I thought that she was somehow out to get me because it felt like the entire world was at that point. With girls, it was worse, though, because I was fighting directly against them for opportunities. And so when we both got offered a trial for Archfield, I was horrible to Jack. And when she got the spot over me, I was even worse.”

“What do you mean, worse?”

“I, um . . . I stole some money.”

Kat looks at her, shocked. Zoe quickly goes to clarify: “Only for a bit! I gave it back after a few days. I never wanted to keep it.”

“Why did you do that?”

“I wanted something to go wrong for her, so that I could tell myself I’m not the only one who has problems.” Zoe sighs and buries her head in her hands. “I told you, I’m a horrible person.”

“You’re not a horrible person, Zoe.”

“That’s why I kept your pendant. Because hearing you and Ruby talking about me made me think of everything I’ve done and . . . I hated that what you guys were saying was at least partly true.”

“Wait, so let me get this straight,” Kat says with a small smile on her face. “You stole something because you didn’t want to be a thief.”

Zoe finally looks Kat in the eyes and when she sees the other girl’s grin, she can’t help but smile as well. They both laugh softly. “Shut up.”

“I have a point, though.” Kat’s face returns to a more neutral state. “But I have to know, why did you keep it? You know how superstitious I am, and you watched me for days stressing, losing all of my confidence. Did you feel like you had to compete against me that much?”

“What? No!” Zoe sighs, wanting to gather her thoughts so she can properly tell Kat what she was really feeling. “I was scared of giving it back to you, because I knew how much it meant to you.”

Kat frowns at her, confused by Zoe’s explanation.

“With every day I kept it, I got more afraid of telling you it was me. If I confessed, you would hate me.” This is the most vulnerable Zoe’s gotten with anyone. Her voice has dropped and she can barely look at the other girl.

“I wouldn’t have hated you. Been confused? Yes. A bit betrayed? Yes. But not hate. And then we would’ve talked about it, like we are now.”

Zoe sighs and nods, realizing that Kat’s probably being honest - she’s not as intense or impulsive as Zoe is. “I’m so sorry, Kat.”

Kat just smiles at her, nodding - she knows how genuine Zoe is being. “Just know, I never wanted to take your place on the team. I . . . I really admire you a lot. You know, as a player.”

“What?” Zoe is a bit shocked by this revelation.

“The only girl on the boys team that’s winning every game in this area? You’re kind of a legend. When Duncan brought me here, I was so excited.”

Zoe groans. “And I screwed that all up.”

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting that harsh of a welcome,” Kat says, chuckling to herself.

“You know, everything I’ve been telling you these past few days, I meant it. You’re a fantastic player. Probably better than me.”

“Hey, no competing, remember?”

Zoe bites her lip and blushes. “I felt horrible every day I had your pendant. But I wasn’t telling you you were good because of that guilt. It’s true. We’re so lucky to have you on the team.”

Kat smiles. The two girls lock eyes. There’s more to be said, they know it, but Mike knocks on the door before either of them can say anything else. They both quickly snap their heads to the noise. He opens the door slightly to poke his head through.

“Are you two alright in here?” Mike asks the pair, frowning. The girls nod.

“Did you sort out whatever was going on out there?”

Zoe and Kat look at each other. Zoe nervously waits for Kat’s reaction to the question, but when she only offers a smile, a grin spreads over her face and some of the tension she’s been holding this entire conversation is released.

“We’re good, Mike,” Kat says.

“Just, when you go back out there, play with . . . . oh, what’s it called . . . girl power? Is that right?”

Zoe and Kat burst out into laughter. Satisfied that they’re alright now, Mike just smiles and heads back into the other changing room. Calling out over his shoulder, he says, “We’re heading back out there in a minute!”

“We’ll be there!” Zoe calls out after him.

Now alone again, the girls smile softly at each other. Kat puts a hand on Zoe’s leg and rubs it gently before standing up and leaving the changing room. Zoe sits there for a minute, first sighing in relief and closing her eyes while tilting her head back, then smiling to herself. She finally pushes herself off the bench to play the second half, now in a much better headspace after having apologized to Kat and mended things. She shakes her head slightly in disbelief as she walks out.

#jamie johnson #season 5 #fix-it #zoe x kat #have i figured out how to spell the show's name yet? hopefully #football #soccer #wlw

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derryhawkins · 4 years

Text

Life is a Highway [2/49]

summary: The seven of them made a plan in middle school: use the months between high school and college, and take a road trip through all of the states. Their twelve year old minds didn’t think it would actually happen, but six years later with enough saved up money, they’re going on an extremely long trip together in a large van. pairings: reddie; benverly; hanbrough; stanpat word count: 7.51k a/n: yes i had stenbranlon as one of the pairings but then i fell in love with stanpat so that changed pls don’t be mad lmao (but yes stan still has a crush on mike right now, but i mean who wouldn’t have a crush on mike??)

AO3 Link | First Chap

chapter two: massachusetts

The three hour car ride is filled with blasting music, singing along to said music, and talking nonstop from everyone over said music. Bill does a decent job of driving; he unnecessarily speeds, cutting down time immensely, and Stan keeps on telling him, "You're going twenty over the speed limit, slow the fuck down!"

But with Richie proclaiming that everyone speeds on the interstate, Bev urging Bill to pass anyone who's going "too slow" in the dark of the night, and Mike standing through the opened sunroof to act as if he's flying, Stan's urges for Bill to slow down goes unheard. Even Eddie tries to talk some sense into Bill. It isn't until Ben says something about cops that Bill finally does so. Only a little bit, though; not much at all, but enough to make a difference that makes Stan relax the littlest bit.

They make it to Boston, Massachusetts just ten minutes before one in the morning, and pull up to a cheap Holiday Inn fifteen minutes later. Bill, Stan and Mike are the ones to go in and ask the front desk person for the cheapest room possible for seven wired on excitement eighteen year olds; meanwhile the remaining four stay in the parked van as they finish the game of “I’m going on a trip” without the others.

“I’m going on a trip to Canada and I’m bringing a cat, a map, Eddie’s mom, a blanket, cigarettes, a walkman, Mr. Chips, Georgie, coffee, a lighter, a winter coat, board games, a tiger, Mike’s Grandma’s homemade chocolate pie, shoes, Stan’s pillow, condoms, a first aid kit, and uh... Binoculars!” Bev grins, proud of herself for remembering everyone else’s items and turns to Ben. “You’re turn.”

Ben sucks in a breath of air and let’s it out. “I feel so pressured, oh my god,” he whispers before speaking louder, smiling almost shyly as the others laugh. “Alright, uh, I’m going on a trip to Canada and I’m bringing a cat, a map, Eddie’s mom, a blanket, cigarettes, a walkman, Mr. Chips... Shit. Georgie! And coffee, and a tiger-.”

“You skipped two!” Eddie shouts. He’s pointing at Ben with a large smile, and is obviously too happy that someone has messed up.

Bev playfully whacks Eddie’s shoulder as Richie laughs. “Hey, be nice to Ben,” she defends him. “He did his best. Besides, it’s a miracle any of us made it as far as we did in the game.”

Eddie pouts and rubs his shoulder, acting as if Bev genuinely hit him. “Meanie.”

Bev snorts out a laugh. Richie leans to the side and gets close to Eddie, pinching the shorter boy’s cheek. “Oh, don’t be such a baby, Eds! What, are we gonna have to swaddle and rock you so you don’t cry?”

His expression quickly pinches into annoyance and Eddie swats Richie’s hands away, and shoves him – not too hard, but hard enough to get Richie out of his personal space bubble. “Fuck off!” Eddie yells. “I’m not a baby!” His cheeks are tinged pink, and while Richie just chalks it up to be Eddie’s anger, Bev knows full and well it’s not.

She covers her mouth with one hand to hide her smile, and she leans her elbow against the back of her seat. Her blue eyes quickly move from the two boys in the row of seats with her to the one sitting behind her. She’s acutely surprised to see him already looking at her, eyebrows moving up the slightest bit. Ben’s eyes widen and he looks away, and he clears his throat quietly as his face reddens. Bev removes her hand and rests her chin on top of the headrest, smiling, ignoring Richie and Eddie who are both now play fighting.

The thought of Ben liking her back worms it’s way into her brain. She quickly shoves the thought away, though, and sadly remembers how he used to like her. As in, not anymore. She then pushes that thought away, and decides to just talk with Ben.

“How’re you liking the trip so far?” She moves to get into a more comfortable position. Her chin stays on the top of the headrest, and she undoes her seatbelt so she can turn fully around, arms wrapping around the bottom of the headrest as she sits on her knees.

Ben looks back at her, eyes still wide. “Hm? Oh, uh.” He shrugs and smiles. “I’m really liking it, yeah. It’s nice – fun, too.”

“That’s good. Same here.” She stops. Eddie’s body leans against hers for a moment before he gets pulled away by Richie, the lanky teen trapping the other in a koala-like hug.

“Take back what you said about Bowie! Do it, or you’re dying via the Tozier’s bone crushing hug!”

Eddie laughs and wiggles. He’s barely trying to get away from Richie, not at all doing is best. Because he can get away if he wants to – all of them know that. “Suck a dick, Richie! I just said he wasn’t my favorite! I’d pick Elton John over him any day!”

“That’s it! Prepare to die, Kaspbrak!”

“Not until you drop dead first, Tozier!”

Bev moves her eyes away from them as she rolls them, and they land back on Ben who’s shaking his head at their friend’s antics. “They’re something else, aren’t they?” She asks, keeping her voice low.

Ben meets her eyes again. “If they’re not dating by the end of this,” he whispers, “I’m locking them in the clubhouse back in Derry and not letting them out.”

She snickers. “I’ll help.”

“I’d like that.”

“Really?”

He smiles, looking a bit shy now, but hums in confirmation and nods. “Of course I would.”

Her own smile grows into a wide grin that showcases her teeth. There’s a faint blush on her cheeks, and she hopes that it’s unnoticeable in the dim light. “Good. Great.”

One of the side doors to the van is suddenly pulled open, startling Bev and Ben, yanking the two from their little bubble. They turn their heads to the now opened door and peer around Richie and Eddie to see Mike standing there with a happy smile.

“We’ve got a room! C’mon, guys.”

The four eighteen year olds are then piling out of the car, and they grab everything they need for the night, along with Stan's and Bill's things so they don't have to come back out to the van.

The room isn't the biggest. It's small and with all of their suitcases on the ground, there is barely any room to walk; the room becomes a maze of sorts, and the Losers have to jump over their friends and the luggage to get to the one bathroom they have to share. Then there are two double sized beds and a chair that pulls out into a small twin mattress. It's not the best, and it's certainly not ideal, but they make it work.

Bill absolutely refuses to pick a place to sleep until everyone else has a place, meaning he ends up with the space between the two beds on a makeshift pallet that Eddie makes for him with whatever extra hotel blankets they can find. Bev and Stan end up sharing the bed closest to the bathroom, and then Ben and Mike share the bed near the AC, and finally Richie and Eddie get the small pull out.

None of it is awkward. It's something they're used to, something they've always done. There's even a time when they were fifteen when they all got into a dog pile to cuddle one night, and they all fell asleep like that. So, sharing beds is the norm. It's almost expected at this point and they're so used to it, which is why at some point during the night Bill sluggishly makes his way into the bed with Mike and Ben, neither boy disturbed or frustrated that another body has joined them.

+++

Stan isn't a morning person. It's not that he doesn't like the mornings - because he does, a lot - but it's more of the fact that it takes a while for him to wake up, and if people don't give him his time and space, the person will most likely get either a death glare or harshly snapped at. He knows the same thing goes for Eddie - the spitfire is always harsh and snippy until he's downed some coffee, and he just doesn't like waking up early - and so they're two peas in a pod when morning comes.

Bev can arguably not be a morning person as well, but she, like Stan, just takes a while to wake up. She's just not verbal. So, during the early morning hours of breakfast and checking out and getting their things together for the day, the three of them stay by each other, knowing neither of the two beside them will mess with them too much.

Stan leans against the van beside the opened door with crossed arms and a blank, tired look. It's currently early in the morning, because apparently beforehand he had thought that getting up earlier to have more daylight during their day was a fantastic idea.

Of course, when that idea came to him, he hadn't thought about how grumpy both he and Eddie are in the mornings, and how nonverbal Beverly gets. Or how annoying Mike and Ben are, because they're both very much morning people, talking and laughing and being their usual selves, but somehow it's incredibly annoying. Meanwhile, there's Richie and Bill; neither morning people nor not morning people. Just...two teen boys functioning like zombies until they are awake enough who won't snap your head off if you confront them.

Stan casts his eyes to the side as Ben laughs at something Mike says to him as they put the suitcases back into the trunk. He frowns, crosses his arms tighter over his chest, and rolls his eyes. He tries to tell himself that the feeling in his chest is just his usual morning mood, not him becoming jealous at the simple fact that Mike is laughing with someone else. He sighs and half heartedly rolls his eyes at himself, tuning most of everyone out.

Currently, Richie and Bill are back on top of the van, just laying there until further notice. Eddie is sitting on the edge of the seat in front of the opened van door, staring - correction: glaring - at nothing in particular with a cup of shitty hotel coffee clenched in both hands. Bev is behind him, eyes closed, a half eaten cinnamon muffin on her stomach as she just lays in the row of seats. No one is quite lively at the moment, with the exception of the two morning people. For now, the excitement of everything has dwindled down. Though, Richie is talking Bill's ear off. His words are just slow and lazily spoken as if he's high. Stan knows that's about to change, both because as time passes by everyone is waking up more and more and also because he can hear Richie's words get livelier.

"So, what's the plan for today?" Mike asks suddenly.

It takes a moment, but Stan is quickly realizing that Mike is talking to him. Not Bill or Ben, or even Richie. But him. Stan turns his head to look at Mike, who has the kindest smile on his face despite the early hour, and his dark eyes are directly looking into his own. Stan hopes that he isn't blushing, and shrugs before speaking. "I know there's a few parks and museums. Maybe even a zoo or an aquarium, but I don't know how expensive everything is."

"We should go to Salem!" Richie suddenly yells out, sitting up from his position on the van and peers down at Stan and Mike before the latter can even respond. He sends a subtle wink the Jew's way as Mike looks to Stan to see his reaction.

From inside, Beverly starts to groan in annoyance but cuts herself off. Suddenly she's behind Eddie and poking her head out, the boy looking way more than annoyed at the close proximity as she leans on him for support. "Salem Witches!" She yells, suddenly lively and awake and verbal. "Fuck yes, can we go Stan?"

"Is that Salem even in Massive Two Shits?" Bill asks, still waking up and obviously not caring about pronouncing Massachusetts correctly.

Richie giggles. "Massive Two Shits," he repeats.

"Fucking grow up, Rich," Eds grumbles.

"Oh, like you don't find Massive Two Shits funny."

"It's not."

"Kinda is," Bev butts in, earning a glare from Eddie and a loud thank you from Richie, accompanied by Bill's agreement.

Stan rolls his eyes fondly. "The Witch Trials did, in fact, happen in Salem, Massachusetts," he tells them.

"So can we go? It'll be fun! Oooh, what if we get to see the exact spot where they hung the thirteen witches?"

"They're not real witches, Rich."

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"Well fuck that, man."

"I will fucking fight y-."

"Okay!" Bill shouts over Eddie's threat and sits up. He quickly moves to lean over the edge of the top of the van like Richie. "Keep the b-b-bickering to a minimum, pluh-please, until we're all a little more awake. Please."

When Eddie opens his mouth to talk back, Bill just looks at him and Eddie shuts his mouth, eyes going to Stan who gives him a Look. One that he gets told is a lot like a parent getting onto their kid. So, of course the curly haired boy uses it when he needs to, because it always works in whatever situation. Eddie licks his lips and stays quiet, and hands Bev the rest of the coffee. Behind Stan, Mike is motioning to Richie to zip his lips for the time being. At noticing some movement, Stan looks up and watches Richie do the action back and toss the invisible key to Mike. He can't help but smile softly at the interaction after Mike 'catches' it.

"I say we go to Salem," Ben speaks up for the first time, sharing his opinion on the matter. "We might not ever get a chance again."

"But we're in Boston," Eddie presses.

Stan frowns. "But things are also really fucking expensive here."

"If it were up to me, I'd skip Boston and go to Salem," Mike says. "Save the big city stuff for New York or something else. Besides, we can't spend all of our money in one place. We have a limited amount, so we gotta be smart about spending it. We only have one shot at this road trip."

"I'm w-with Mike. Do a few things there, it won't be too exp-p-pensive most likely, and just chill out."

Beverly, who is now sitting on the floorboard of the van by Eddie's feet, shitty cup of coffee between her thighs, asks, "Does going to Salem mess up with the route you made, Stan?"

The route. Stan certainly hasn't forgotten about it. It took months to get it right, to find roads that hit one major fun place in each state but to also find ways that wouldn't make them have to go through one state too many times. Eventually he got it right. It's the main reason he's in charge of the map, if anyone is being honest. He smiles, pleased that Beverly actually remembers it. "Depending on how far away Salem is, it shouldn't."

"I saw a sign on our way here for an exit for Salem. Think it's about..." Ben trails off and thinks for a moment. He then lights up some and nods. "fifteen-ish miles out of the city."

"Works for me," Bill says with a tiny shrug. "Work for y-you, Stan?"

Stan nods, appreciating how his friends are taking the route and all he made into consideration. He doesn't know why it's so surprising or so uplifting, but it is. "It does, yeah."

"G-Great! Everyone hop in, we can't waste away our day!"

+++

Beverly stays sitting up during the car ride, too excited to do much else. She's sitting in the same spot as the night before but instead of Richie and Eddie in the row of seats with her, it's actually Ben and Mike, the aforementioned boys sitting behind them while Bill drives once again, Stanley in the passenger's seat with the map. During the thirty minute ride, Beverly tries her best to not lean on Ben too much. At the same time though, she makes sure to not lean too far away on the sharper turns Bill takes that push her away from Ben. All the while, she's also trying to act as if sitting beside her crush isn't the main root of her excitement. It's hard, she'll admit, but it's also worth it.

“What d’you think there is to do in Salem?”

She shrugs at Ben’s question. Then, she’s looking at him and smiling. “What if there are actually witches and they teach some magic?” Her brows lift some. Obviously, that’s not going to happen. But a girl can dream, right?

Eddie scoffs from behind them. Mike, who’s talking to Stan and Bill about lunch plans, glanced behind him briefly to look at the other boy before focusing his attention back on the two up front. Bev turns some in her seat to look at Eddie properly, Ben doing the same; both are relatively surprised to see Richie fast asleep and sprawled out, head in Eddie’s lap. Beverly makes eye contact with Eddie and grins teasingly. The grin merely spreads as his cheeks turn a dark shade of pink.

She isn’t surprised when he ignores the look the best he can and says, “Witches aren’t real, Bev.”

“Okay, obviously,” she says. “But it’d be cool if they were! Right, Ben?”

Ben looks taken back but he recuperates quickly. He’s then nodding and smiling, agreeing with the redhead beside him. “Uh, yeah! It would be pretty neat.”

“C’mon, Eddie, you can't deny the truth! If they were real, think of all the cool magic you would be able to see them do! Or, better yet, if you were a witch.”

“You would be able to have a cat – or another animal,” Ben tells him, knowing that will win him over in an instant. Eddie has always wanted a pet – more specifically a cat – his entire life. Unfortunately for him, his mom never let him get one.

And it works. Bev watches as Eddie’s eyes brighten and how his expression shifts from slightly bored to excited. “Okay, it’s official, I’d much rather be a witch than see one.”

“Good. Because I think you already have a cat.”

At his questioning look, Bev simply points to his lap where Richie’s head is resting with his lanky arms around Eddie’s waist and face close to his stomach. Eddie blushes deeply, unable to get a proper sentence out. He crosses his arms and averts his eyes away from his two friends just as Mike turns around to look as well.

“Shut up,” Eddie mumbles the same time Mike lets out an aw at the sight. Though, he’s clearly fighting back a smile, face hot and pink with blush.

“It’s cute, Eddie,” Ben tells him.

Bev nods and smiles some more. “Adorable, actually.”

“Where’s Bill’s camera? We need a picture of this,” Mike says.

Eddie’s jaw drops. “No! No we don’t!”

“Don’t wake Richie up!” Bev whisper-shouts.

“Too late.”

Beverly covers her mouth with one hand as Eddie freezes up, but before anyone can say anything else the van is coming to a stop at a red light, and everyone’s attention is diverted to the windows. As she turns to look out of the window beside her, she catches Richie sit up from the corner of her eye. She’s tempted to look back just to see how much he’s blushing, but doesn’t. So, she keeps her eyes on the window. Even when Ben leans closer to her to look in the same direction, she doesn’t move. One of his arms go over the head rest and he sits up to look over her.

“Massive Two Shits is actually really pretty,” Bev says, eyeing the scenery before them. The vehicle finally starts to move again, causing them to pass by trees and plants and a few other cars in a blur.

“It’s not when you call it ‘Massive Two Shits’,” Stan mumbles from the front seat.

“But,” Richie starts, and Bev can hear his grin, “it is funny!”

“Massachusetts. Massive Two Shits. Whatever, same fucking thing here. Either way you say it, the state is still beautiful!” She exclaims with a smile, and motions outside.

“I have to agree,” Mike says.

“Me too,” Ben mutters.

She turns her head to look at him. At realizing how close the two of them are, she only inches back a little bit and gives him a warm smile, not thinking into too much detail about how he’s already looking at her. “Glad you agree, Ben.”

Mike sputters from his spot on the other side of Ben. “Hey!”

Bev laughs and leans to the side to look at him. “The same goes for you, Mikey.”

“Thank you.”

Not too long later, the Losers Club are officially in Salem, Massachusetts. Bill drives around for a few moments until he finds a café parking lot to park in. For a bit of time, the seven of them just sit and talk about what they can do in Salem - Mike got a brochure about the town from the front desk at the hotel they slept at the night before. Eventually, they settle on going their own ways for the first little bit of the trip. Eddie has to call his mom, Stan and Bill want to find something breakfast-like, and Bev, Ben, and Mike are content with just walking around for the time being.

So, that’s what they do.

“Remember to meet up at the Derby Drawf Light Station in an hour!” Stan calls out to everyone as they part ways.

Bev happily links her arms with Ben’s and Mike’s, turning her head over to smile at him. “Don’t worry your corkscrew curls off, Stanny! We’ll be there.”

“You better be!”

+++

“That was the longest twenty minutes of my life,” Richie complains as he and Eddie finally walk away from the payphone.

“Well, you didn’t have to come along, y’know,” Eddie tells him.

Richie shrugs, smiles, and bumps his shoulder with Eddie’s. The smile just grows as the familiar warmth from just touching his crush went through him. “Wanted to,” he says simply. Then, “Besides, who knows what would’ve happened if I let you go alone. Talking to Mrs. K never turns out as good as it just did! She would’ve dragged you back home through the phone, but I would have stopped her! What’s the look for? I so would’ve saved you! Who needs Big Bill or Mikey? You’ve got Trashmouth Tozier, ready to keep you from her suffocating clutches at a moment’s notice!”

Eddie laughs and shakes his head, rolling his eyes after. “My knight in shining armor,” he says sarcastically. “You’re so dramatic.”

Richie can only stare down at him for a moment. The midmorning’s sun rays are hitting Eddie just right, causing his usual dark brown eyes to look a bit lighter - more golden, if anything - and his freckles stick a bit more already. Short brown hair is styled neatly but looks soft to the touch. To put it simply, Eddie Kaspbrak looks absolutely stunning - which, hey, isn’t that big of a difference from any other day in Richie’s eyes, but still - and it’s taking everything in Richie to not reach over and kiss him.

So, he holds himself back. He forces himself to look in front of him instead of at his crush. He stuffs his hands in his cargo shorts’ pockets and says, “You’re the one who just mentioned a knight in shining armor, Eds, I merely said I can save you.”

“It’s the fucking same thing, dickhead! And seriously? ‘Eds’? We’ve talked about this, it’s not my name!”

“And it ain’t goin’ away, sweetcheeks, it’s been fourteen goddamn years,” he responds with in the best country accent he can muster up. It’s better than it has been, he knows, but it’s still not perfect.

It’s silent for a moment. And then, “Has it really been fourteen years?”

Richie nearly stops in his tracks. Actually, he does. He blinks, thinking about it, and then his brows raise. “Huh. It has, yeah.” It’s mind boggling, to be honest, to think about how long he’s been friends with Eddie, and even with Stan and Bill. Fourteen years. Nearly their entire lives.

“Never really… It doesn’t seem like it,” Eddie says and faces Richie. “Well, I mean, it does, in a sense, but. Like. I dunno.”

Richie chuckles. “Eloquent as ever, Spaghetti.”

“Fuck off. I mean, I… It just feels like I’ve known everyone else the same amount of time, when reality we’ve only known Bev, Ben, and Mike for six years. Not fourteen. It’s weird.”

“Yeah. I get it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” A beat of silence. “I feel like you should be telling me to fuck off by now.”

Eddie rolls his eyes with a fond smile and turns on his heels to walk away, giving Richie the bird as he did so. Richie starts walking as well, merely watching Eddie with what he knows Stan would describe as ‘heart eyes’ if he were there with them. So, when Eddie starts to speed up and start to jog, Richie notices instantly. He doesn’t have time to question Eddie, because suddenly the shorter boy is dashing away, Richie barely catching his words.

“Race ya to the light station!”

Richie sputters and quickly starts to run. “Th- what?! This isn’t fair, Eds, you were on the track team! Plus, you’re cheating - didn’t even count to three! Get fucking back here, asshole, we’re starting over!”

They don’t start over.

Richie doesn’t care, though. He is just happy to be able to spend some time with Eddie, to see the other laugh and have fun and be actually carefree. And he’s happy the he feels the same way. No school projects or assignments are looming over them, no deadlines for anything, no bullies, no suffocating Sonia Kaspbrak who hates every single one of Eddie’s friends except for maybe Bill – because, weirdly, a lot of adults love Bill – and they just aren’t in Derry anymore.

It’s nice. Fun. Freeing. It’s a breath of fresh air.

Richie tries to catch up with Eddie. The fucker was on the track team with Ben, and unfortunately for Richie, his long legs can’t exactly keep up; he isn’t athletic in the slightest. He was a stupid band kid during high school. And he really wants to catch up. He just can’t. So, he slows to a jog, letting out a quiet groan and some unkind words about how stupid the amount of energy running takes, and eventually just settles for a fast paced walk. The heat of the summer sun doesn’t help anything.

A few people are looking at him, and Eddie, oddly. But it’s not the bad odd – more confused, if anything, about two old teens running around as the curse one another out jokingly. They aren’t in Derry anymore. People aren’t so blatant about how weird and possibly stupid it is to see two friends genuinely have some fun.

Richie shrugs the looks off and continues his fast walking. “Eddie! C’mon, man, I’m not a runner like you!” He huffs and stops walking to lean against one of the buildings to catch his breath better. Not too long later, Eddie is standing in front of him with a cocky smirk. Richie chuckles and gently pushes his face away, causing Eddie to stumble backwards a step. “You’re a little bitch.”

Pushing him away is more for his own benefit, if anything. Because Eddie has gone from absolutely stunning to really fucking hot within moments. His hair is a slight mess, some of it pushed back at the front and a few strands sticking in different directions thanks to the wind from how fast he ran, and he’s a bit sweaty but not much. His skin is flushed and he’s breathing heavily, too. It takes all of Richie’s willpower to not do anything. To push that inter turmoil of “I want to jump my best friend’s bones but I can’t for obvious reasons and it sucks” away.

Eddie laughs and shoves Richie’s hand off of him. “And you’re a lazy bitch,” he retaliates with.

At first, for a split second, Richie’s confused. But then—

Right, Richie reminds himself, I called him a little bitch.

He grins. “You betcha!”

“Alright, c’mon, let's cool off. Wanna go in this store for a few minutes?”

“You think we have time?”

“You are worried about time?”

“Eds, I love you, but I don’t wanna face Stan’s wrath already just one day into the road trip.”

“Just five minutes? Please? It’ll be fun!” And then Eddie is doing the puppy dog eyes. For the full effect, he even sticks out his bottom lip a little bit.

Richie groans. “Okay! Sheesh, fine, no need to bring out the puppy eyes.”

Richie doesn’t have time to feel bad, to even think about how late they might actually be, because right then and there, Eddie is grinning from ear to ear and dragging him by the wrist into the little shop they are standing by.

+++

Mike holds the Polaroid camera safely in his hands. Before they all left the van, he had asked Bill if he can use it and take a few pictures. Bill had agreed, so long as Mike didn’t break it or ruin anything. He’s only taken one picture so far, and it’s of Bev and Ben standing together by the tiny, white square building of a lighthouse near some water. The two didn’t notice he took the picture, both too engrossed non whatever they were talking about to notice but they also had looked relaxed. Happy, wide grins and fond eyes paired with the scenery of the Light Station makes for a good picture.

Now, Mike is just wondering when in the hell his two friends are going to get their sit together and date, because he knows Ben’s statement of being over Bev had been a lie those months ago whether he realized it or not. And Bev clearly feels the same way. Mike just doesn’t know for sure how long that’s been a thing, but it’s a thing nonetheless. Everyone already has to deal with Richie and Eddie, they don’t need another oblivious blooming relationship. Or else, Stan might just rip his hair out from how stupid their friends are being, and Mike, despite loving his friends, can certainly relate to that feeling.

He smiles to himself, content. So, maybe four out of the seven of them need to figure out some things before they make Stan lose his mind, but he honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. They’re all together. Happy. Currently having a grand time on a road trip that just started. The nerves that he had felt just the day before are gone for the most part. He doesn’t have a worry, right now.

He lifts the camera to take a picture of the horizon, but stops himself right as he’s about to as two familiar voices meet his ears.

“—and, like, it’s gonna take the entire day but I think I’ve figured out what to do. We can walk to these spots, which takes from five to ten minutes if I did the math right, and I think we’ll have more fun as a group.”

“SSS-Sounds really fun, man. The others are gonna be excited.”

Mike turns and spots Stan and Bill right away, walking close together as the former holds a pamphlet. Bill has a large coffee in one hand, and with the other he’s pointing to something. Mike just stared at them both for a moment. Then, he lifts his camera and takes a picture. The film slides out and he grabs it before it can fall just as both Stan and Bill look at him from hearing the shutter of the camera. Stan’s ears turn the slightest bit pink, and Bill grins wide.

“What w-was that f-for?” Bill asks.

Mike smiles and shrugs. “I just wanted to take a picture of you two. Also got one of Ben and Bev earlier,” he tells him. Then, he’s handing one picture to Bill and the other to Stan. “Here.”

The honest truth is that Mike just wanted to take a picture of Bill – don’t get him wrong, he loves Stan to pieces – because he looks great. Not only in the sense of attractiveness but also in the way where he seems relaxed. Calm, even. Nothing’s bothering him. He’s just having fun with his friends, something Mike hadn’t truly seen since they were kids.

The stress of senior year had all eaten them up. Not one of them had been put together well during those horrendous months of their last high school year. Each of them had to calm Eddie down from a panic attack at least twice because the poor boy was so worried about not passing, not being able to get away from his mom. Stan shut down a few times, causing the Losers to then help him time and time again. Bev had a mental break down after Christmas break and chopped her hair again and even dyed it blue until the school made her dye it back to a ‘normal’ color.

Out of the seven of them, Ben, Mike, and Richie seemed like the better collected of them all, which is far from the truth. Richie had been tempted to drop out, and Mike had given a good ‘you made this far, you can make another few months’ speech to him; Mike is pretty sure the others said something similar to him at some point. Ben had started to go to parties pretty often just to find something to help him relax in between major assignments – alcohol, generally. And between football at the beginning of the school year and school in general, Mike was pretty keyed up as well.

Then there’s Bill. He couldn’t relax once, too stressed and worried about anything and everything, and he probably slept the least out of all of them. Mike’s surprised he didn’t turn out being 72% coffee. It was honestly a crazy experience for all of them. One they don’t want to relive, but one they will because, yes, college is a thing that they’re going to do.

But right now, Bill isn’t stressed. Sure, Mike knows that he misses Georgie a shit ton, who Bill is also bound to worry about, no doubt, but he’s not on his third cup of coffee already from lack of sleep. He’s not scowling from stress, or even showing an ounce of any negativity. Mike smiles more at noticing that, and glances at Stan as he leaves the two for Ben and Beverly who are starting to walk over.

Bill smiles fondly at the picture Mike took. “This is a g-good photo, Mike.” His blue eyes then lift and lock with Mike’s brown ones. But he quickly diverges his stare, cheeks tingeing pink.

Mike chuckles softly. “Thanks, Bill.”

And, alright, Mike isn’t dumb. He can read people. He knows himself. He has a crush on Bill, who likes him back - if the blushing and nervous laughs and that kiss from New Year’s are anything to go by - and you may be wondering: why aren’t you dating, then? Simple answer: Mike also can tell Stan likes him - if the blushing and tiny nervous smiles and lingering stares are anything to go by - which puts him in a predicament. Because Mike only likes Stan as a friend; he likes Bill. So, naturally, Mike doesn’t want to hurt Stan in anyway. If Stan didn’t like Mike, though…

Mike would have asked Bill out by now.

But also there’s this thing called homophobia (or, well, biphobia), so maybe that’s a lie.

So scratch what was said earlier, all seven of them need to figure out some things before someone loses their mind.

Beverly suddenly jumping on his back pulls Mike out of his thoughts. He catches her and stays balanced easily, and once Bill takes the camera from him, he securely puts his hands under her thighs to keep her up. The auburn haired boy is quick to snap a picture as Bev smacks a wet kiss onto Mike’s cheek. A grin spreads across his face.

“Aw, Bev, love you too,” he says laughing. Then, he turns his head and kisses her cheek, less went and more gentle.

She tightens her hold on him as a way to give him a hug. “You’re a sweetheart, Mikey.”

“Where’s Dumb and Dumber?” Stan asks. It’s not directed to anyone in particular, but because Bill and Ben are looking at the picture of Mike and Bev, Mike is the one to answer.

“No clue.”

Bev rolls her eyes. “They probably got distracted by something, knowing them,” she says.

“It probably wasn’t a good idea to let them walk alone,” Mike thinks aloud.

“Wait, who’s Dumb and Dumber in this situation?” Ben asks, looking between his friends. “I mean, they’re both pretty smart - Richie made straight A’s with ease.”

“The fucker was stressed for nothing,” Bev mumbles, and everyone nods in agreement.

“Eddie has more c-c-common sense, s-sometimes,” Bill speaks up.

“Sometimes,” Stan repeats, stressing the word to make a point. “But they need to hurry up. I said an hour, and it’s been an hour.”

“Give ‘em a few more minutes,” Mike says. “They’ll be here in no time.”

Richie and Eddie are not, in fact, there in no time.

Twenty minutes later the two remaining Losers walk up. The look Stan gives them – and Mike, too – makes everyone laugh, and even Stan gives the tiniest of smiles so nothing is really taken too seriously. After Eddie shows them a crystal rock he bought, explaining in detail with fast words and very little breaths of air how ‘Witches’ use crystals for magic and different energies, they set off to go on with their day.

+++

The plan Stan – “Give it up for Stan the Man with the Plan, folks!” – came up with while he was with Bill had them going to seven different spots in Salem, all within walking distance, which doesn’t include the Derby Wharf Light Station.

They walk to the Salem Maritime National Historic Site. It isn’t a long walk at all, maybe ten minutes at most, but they spent about an hour at the 9-acre park. They don’t think that they’ll spend much time there – 30 minutes at most – but then they explore a few buildings and a ship or two and whatever a wharve is, and suddenly an hour has gone by. They go the Salem Witch Museum next, which is another ten minute walk, and all of them groan with relief at seeing it was inside a building. The group spends an even longer time in there.

Upon arriving, they got a very dramatic re-telling and history lesson of what happened in 1692 with life-size props and such. Richie wants to complain for the sole reason he wasn’t expecting to learn anything, but he can’t because he’s too interested and invested along with his friends (Mike and Ben especially) as they figured out that the “witches” had been no different that the blacklisted Communists in the ‘50s and the Japanese-Americans in WWII who had been encamped. Then they learn some stuff about witches today, and witchcraft as well, and then they’re off to the Peabody Essex Museum (Richie makes a lot of crude jokes simply because of the word Essex). By the time they get through the museum – it doesn’t take too long, especially with how fast they all walk and they don’t take too much time looking at the different things – they’re all starving.

The rest of the day is like that. Going to and from different popular sights in the town. After getting a cheap lunch, they do the Hocus Pocus Tour, visit a Witch House, go to the memorial for the Witch Trials and end everything with a wax museum because apparently Stan likes museums. They have fun the entire time. Bev buys a witch’s hat from a gift shop, which not so surprisingly suits her, and they got to see where the thirteen women were hung. There’s a continuous debate on whether or not witches are actually real the entire day - nothing serious, obviously.

By the time they are finished, the sun is starting to lower in the sky. Not drastically so, given that it’s only close to five, and everyone is tired from walking around everywhere. Ben and Stan lead the way, the two talking about something or another, and Mike is right behind them with Beverly on his back once again, the witch hat on her head. Eddie is walking beside them, and as he goes on about the various cool things in Salem, the other to listen carefully. Richie and Bill are taking up the end.

“Did you realize it’s been fourteen years since we first started being friends?” Richie asks suddenly, eyes on Eddie for a moment before moving to Stan, and then finally he looked to Bill.

Bill blinks for a moment. It takes a second for him to comprehend what Richie just said to him, but when it finally clicks, his mouth parts slightly. “Really?” That can’t be right. Can it?

“Not the Losers, just… Us, and Stan and Eddie.”

Oh, that makes more sense. “That’s…” Bill can’t think of anything, so he just whistles lowly and mutters a, “Wow.” Then, “What the hell, that’s almost our enti-tire lives!”

“I know!” Richie exclaims back. “And like, what- who gets to say they’ve stayed friends with someone from elementary school? Or even middle school? It’s fucking crazy, man.”

“Dad told me a m-m-month or so ago that what we have is s-something sp-special,” Bill tells Richie. Briefly, he thinks to that day and how Zach Denbrough was even prompted to say that.

At first Bill doesn’t remember, but then it all comes back to him in an instant. It had been after one of those rare occasions during the school year where they did an impromptu sleepover at the Denbrough household, all cooped up in Bill’s bedroom despite the size. Nothing dramatic happened. They laughed most of the time and played games, and everyone was reluctant to leave the next morning despite the fact they made plans to go to the clubhouse that afternoon. Once everyone was gone, Zack Denbrough stopped Bill, explained that not many people stayed best friends with one person from their younger years - let alone six - and then went on to say that the seven of them had - have - something special.

“Why did he have to word it as if we’re all dating?”

Bill rolls his eyes. “Who knows, maybe we are and w-w-we’re just too stu-stupid to realize it,” he jokes.

Richie laughs. “Wouldn’t that be something.” He pauses, dramatically of course. He then reaches over and Bill grins as Richie winks at him just as Richie puts his hand in one of Bill’s pockets. “Babe.” Then, he’s pulling out the keys and dashing to the van. “I’m driving! Everyone get in the fucking car, we’re going to McDonald’s!”

Bill’s jaw drops for a second and then he’s laughing. “You f-f-f-fucker!”

“Oh, hell no!” Stan is then racing after their friend. “You’re not driving, Richie! I love you, but I do not trust your driving skills!”

“I’ve been driving longer than any of you shits!”

“Doesn’t equate to safe driving!” Eddie shouts, cupping his mouth.

“Says the one with the road rage,” Mike comments, earning a laugh from Ben and Bev, and the finger from Eddie.

Bill chuckles and steps beside Eddie while they walk the rest of the short distance. “It’s true, Eddie. Y-You have some b-b-b-bad road rage.”

“Whatever,” he mumbles.

None of them manage to talk Richie out of driving - and poor Stan tries so hard to get someone else to drive - so they all get into their respective seats, but Ben takes Richie’s old spot and Bill takes Ben’s (not so he can sit beside Mike. That’d be absurd!).

(...Okay, fine, it’s so he can sit beside Mike but the others don’t need to know that).

Then finally, they’re off to McDonald’s. They chant the fast food’s name for a solid thirty seconds until they realize they don’t know where a McDonald’s is.

And that’s how they spend forty minutes driving around searching for one.

TAGLIST: @samanthador1205 @snapmyneckandcallmeloki @eddiekazier

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