#And I was about to let my parents leave with nothing editable in the house

[eddieschains]

Dream Come True

Older!Eddie X Fem!Reader

credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the older eddie edit <3

Word Count: 2.8k

TW// 18+, age gap (reader is early 20s, Eddie is 50s), oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), degradation, face slapping, creampie, let me know if i missed anything!!

It was your parents 25th wedding anniversary. They liked to make a big deal out of it every 5 years, throwing a big party and inviting as many people as they could. You never understood why they couldn’t just go out to dinner alone to celebrate instead of dragging you along to hang out with their old friends. But he made it all worth it.

Eddie Munson. Your dads friend from high school. He was kind of old sure, but he was damn sexy. He had the softest looking long curly brown hair, peppered with just the right amount of grey. The perfect amount of scruff around his face, messy yet neat at the same time. And his arms and chest littered with tattoos.

He played in a metal band that your dad was a part of shortly in college, until he decided he’d rather marry your mom and start a family. Bleh. You had watched all the videos of their shows when he was younger, and while you should’ve been impressed by your dads skills as a musician, you could never take your eyes off of Eddie.

He was still in the band, constantly in LA recording or touring the world. He always made time to visit you and your parents when he was back in Hawkins though. You hadn’t seen him in about 5 years, the last time being your high school graduation, when he could barely keep his eyes off of you. You thought since you were freshly 18 he would finally take you someplace to fuck you raw, but that might’ve just been wishful thinking.

In reality, he didn’t pay much attention to you when he visited. Nothing more than the usual “how have you been” or “how’s school going?”. But, that wasn’t going to stop you from continuing to try and get his attention.

You opted for a short black dress, probably showing a little more cleavage than you usually would, some high heeled boots, and a simple silver necklace. You were in the kitchen of the beach house your parents rented, fixing yourself a drink while you waited for the guests so trickle in.

“Honey, can you greet people at the door and take their coats?” You hear your mom call from the other room. You roll your eyes before taking a sip of your wine and making your way to the door.

You spend the next 30 minutes welcoming all of your parents friends, frustratingly having to answer the same questions over and over and using your best fake laugh to laugh at all of their dad jokes. You were just about ready to leave and scream in the bathroom until you saw the black mustang pull up. Eddie.

You fix you hair and push your boobs up a little more before he makes his way to the door. “Sweetheart.” He bows his head, making his way into the house.

“Eddie.” You do the same. You ask to take his jacket and hang it with the rest. You decide your door duty is over once Eddie arrives, following him into the house. “This is nice. Didn’t know your old man bought a new place.” He says looking around, taking in all the little details.

“Oh it’s not ours, they just rented it for the party. Always need to make a big deal out of their love.” You scoff.

Eddie chuckles, “Marriage is a big deal. You’ll find that out soon enough.”

“No thanks. Marriage is just a big money grab. Why can’t I just spend the rest of my life with the person I love without the governments involvement? Plus it’s harder to get divorced than it is to get married.” You respond.

“You’re a smart girl. What are you studying again?” He asks, genuinely interested.

“Psychology. I graduate in a couple months.” You smile proudly.

“Ah you gonna tug at my brain tonight?” He laughs.

This is your chance to make a move, you think to yourself. “I could tug at something else if you’d like.” You whisper, a smirk on your face.

Eddie coughs, clearing his throat. “Uh i’m gonna go say hi to your parents.” He practically runs away. You would’ve been embarrassed by your boldness if you hadn’t noticed the way his cheeks turned red and his legs shook at your words.

You take your place back in the kitchen, avoiding conversation with the large group of people. You hear footsteps behind you and turn to see Eddie grabbing a beer from the fridge.

“Can’t stand being out there any longer without at least one beer.” You chuckle, mumbling in agreement. “When did your parents become so prissy?”

“Oh you mean they haven’t always been like this?” You laugh. “Dad got a promotion a couple years ago so I guess he feels the need to impress them.”

“You should’ve seen him in college, when he was still in the band. He was wild.” Eddie laughs, recalling the memories.

“As wild as you?” You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head to the side.

Eddie’s cheeks turn red, “I’m not wild.”

“You expect me to believe that the man who’s been rocking girls panties off for the last 30 years isn’t a wild one?” You step closer to him, hearing how his breathing changes. “I’ve seen what those hands can do.”

“Hey… stop.” You know he only says it because he should, not that he really wants you to.

You wrap your hand around his neck, pulling his ear down to your mouth. “But i’m not wearing any panties.”

Eddie lets a soft moan escape his mouth before running off. “I need to use the restroom.” You’re left in the kitchen, giggling and smirking to yourself, waiting a couple minutes before following him.

You put your head up to the bathroom door, listening to him heavy breathing and muttering curse words under his breath. You open the door, locking it behind you.

“What the fuck?!” He whisper yells. “What are you doing?”

“Oh I thought that was an invitation. You know, tell the girl you’re going to the bathroom, she follows…” You jump up on the sink, spreading your legs a little wider. “And then the guy fucks her brains out on the sink.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, trying his best not to look you in the eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“But you want to, don’t you?” You jump off the sink, pulling him towards you. “Don’t think I forgot about the way you were looking at my tits at my graduation party. Or the way your eyes immediately went down to my thighs when I greeted you tonight. You’re a dirty old man, and I want to be your filthy… little… girl.” Your words send shivers down his spine.

“Fuck it.” He growls before pressing his lips against yours. His hands immediately reach for your hips, his fingers digging into them sure to leave marks tomorrow. You wrap your arms around the back of his head, pulling on his hair. He lets out a moan, and you take the opportunity to dip your tongue into his mouth.

He taste just like how you imagined. A mix of tobacco and mint, followed with a slight flavor of the beer he just drank. He removes his mouth from yours, moving down your neck, sucking on that sweet spot just behind your ear. His hands travel down to your ass, squeezing and slapping as he continues his assault on your neck.

You twirl your fingers in his hair, pushing him further into you as you feel the heat between your legs growing more and more intense. He backs you up until your back hits the sink, a whimper leaving your mouth. He lifts the bottom of your dress, exposing your naked cunt.

“Fuck. You weren’t lying.” You chuckle as he continues kissing and sucking your skin, moving further down your body. “You did this because you knew I was coming, huh? Or are you just that much of a whore?”

You moan at his words, loving the way he says it. “Oh you like that? Like when I call you a fucking whore?” You mumble an mm-hmm right as he reaches where you needed him the most. “God you have such a pretty pussy, baby. Mind if I have a little taste?”

“Please.” You whimper, and he dives right in. His tongue drags from your entrance, all the way up to your clit. “Fuck, Eddie.” You moan out as his tongue flicks back and forth.

He licks you up and down a few times before focusing on your clit. Attaching his mouth to your aching bud, and sucking it like it was his last meal. You couldn’t speak. It was like he took away your ability to form any kind of words. You’d never felt like this before, never gotten head like this before. He truly was a master, and not just when it came to music.

The filthy sounds of his tongue mixed with your own arousal was nearly enough to send you over the edge. You feel him bring his fingers up to your entrance, playing with it while gathering your wetness. He looks up at you, his mouth still on your cunt, looking for permission to keep going. You nod, and without another word he sinks two fingers into you.

“Oh my- fuck!” You scream out before bringing a hand to your mouth, not wanting to bring attention to what was happening in here. You feel him smile against your pussy, pushing his fingers in and out of you.

His fingers were thick enough, you had no idea how you were supposed to fit, what you assumed, was his even thicker cock. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, not relenting his attack on your clit. He moans into your pussy, sending even more vibrations of pleasure through you. He seemed to really enjoy eating your pussy. Maybe just as much as you were.

He starts to move his fingers faster, flicking his tongue across your clit searching for your orgasm. “Shit, Eddie- Eddie i’m gonna- fuck fuck fuck.” You can’t even make out a cognitive sentence with the pleasure you were feeling.

“Go ahead baby, cum for me. Cum on my face.” That was all you needed to hear before your legs were shaking, closing in on his head as yours was thrown back, cursing his name under your breath.

He keeps thrusting his fingers into you, softly to help you ride out your high. Once your breathing starts to regulate again, he pulls out, placing soft kisses on your thighs before moving up to your mouth. “You okay?” He asks, pecking your lips.

You nod, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Placing your hand on the crotch of his jeans, you can feel just how much he enjoyed that. You palm at his rock hard cock through his pants, while he moans above you into the kiss.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask, continuing to press into him.

“Not gonna last. I need to be inside of you.” He moans, shuffling his pants off as quickly as possible, and you realize that you didn’t have to assume his size anymore. He was big. The biggest you’ve ever seen. Thick too. If you had to picture the perfect dick, he had it.

“Jesus christ.” You mumble, earning a chuckle from him. He spits into his hand, stroking his cock to prepare himself.

“Can I see your tits?” He asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. He pulls the straps of your dress off, nearly tearing them, and pushes the top of your dress down so that it’s sitting on your waist. “Oh my god, we’re you created by the gods or something?”

“I was created by your best friend.” You smirk, reminding him of who exactly he was about to fuck.

He groans, twisting his eyebrows up. “Don’t remind me.” He places his hands on your tits, rubbing and squeezing them in circles before catching one in his mouth.

You place your hand on the back of his head as he licks and sucks on your nipple, his hand playing with the other before switching places. Once he’s has enough, he steps back, grabbing onto his cock and sliding it up and down your folds.

“Ready?” He asks as you nod furiously. He slides just the tip in, testing the waters. You wince as he stretches you open. It hurts only for a moment, but the earlier tongue fucking definitely helped you get used to it quicker.

He pushes more of his length in, an inch at a time until his balls hit the back of your ass. “Shit you’re so fucking tight. Could bust right now.” He moans before pulling out slightly, and pushing back in.

You grab onto his biceps for leverage as he picks up the pace. You pull him closer to you, pushing his hair to one side while your lips find his neck. He groans at the feeling, grabbing the back of your neck as he rapidly begins thrusting in and out of you.

“Oh my god- that’s it, fuck. Feels so good.” You moan in his ear. The sound of skin slapping fills the room, along with each of your moans. He moves his hands down to your hips, using them to fuck you back into him.

“Who would’ve thought my best friends daughter would be such a filthy fucking whore? Sucking my cock into her pussy like this? God you feel so fucking good on my cock like this.” His words continue to egg you on. You can’t say anything other curse words followed by moans of pleasure as he fucks into you.

You start to feel your high approaching again, embarrassingly quick and he takes notice. He pulls your head into his, pressing your forehead against his. “You gonna cum for me again? Gonna drench my fat cock with your cum? Hmm, baby?” You moan in response, but it’s not enough for him. “Use your words, tell me how good i’m making you feel right now.”

You still can’t find the words, and that’s when you feel a sharp slap across your cheek. “Say. It.” He growls, his thrusts speeding up as his thumb takes place on your clit. He rubs perfect circles on your clit while awaiting a response before slapping his palm across your cheek once again. “What the fuck did I just tell you? Say it.”

“Feels so good Eddie. Love the way your cock fills my pussy, gonna make me cum- fuck!” Your body goes limp as your second orgasm crashes over you. Eddie picks you up by your ass, moving your body against the bathroom door.

“That’s right, dirty slut loves the way I feel inside of her.” His body is keeping you up against the door as he continues to fuck into you with a hurried speed, chasing his own high. “How would she feel if I filled her up with my cum?”

All you can muster is a moan, receiving another slap across the face. “Use your fucking words.”

“Yes please Eddie, fill me up. Cum in me. I wanna feel you, please please please.” The overstimulation is almost getting to be too much as you feel a tear slide down your face.

Although, it doesn’t last long as he gives you a couple more hard thrusts before you feel his seed coating your walls. “Fuuuck.” He moans out, his head falling into your neck.

He stills for a moment, relishing in the feeling of his own orgasm before lifting his head to kiss you. He wipes your tears away before slowly sliding out of you and placing you back on your feet.

“You’re something else.” He laughs, pulling his pants back up.

“So are you.” You smile, fixing your dress. “Who knew old dudes like you could fuck so good?”

He shoots you a look, making you giggle. “Don’t tell your parents about this.”

You furrow your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah let me just go down there and let them know their best friend just fucked the shit out of their daughter.” He laughs before exiting the bathroom and returning downstairs to the party.

You wait a couple minutes to follow him, not wanting to be suspected of anything. You make your way to your dad, hoping she didn’t notice that you and Eddie went missing.

“There you are honey. Oh what happened to your dress?” You look down, noticing the tear in your strap. You look over at Eddie, seeing the biggest smirk on his face as he sips his beer.

“Must’ve torn it this morning putting it on.” You respond, avoiding eye contact.

“Well you should go out a jacket on, make yourself look a little put together please.”

You sigh, walking away. “Yes daddy.”

You walk past Eddie as he grabs you arm, whispering in your ear. “Yes daddy.”

[vivmaek]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS PART SEVEN (roast edition)

Libra Suns are soo oblivious sometimes. I can never tell if they’re doing it to get something or if they’re actually having a dumb blond moment. 

People with Mars in the 2nd house need to learn how to share. They become territorial over their possessions. As children, they were the types of kids to show off a cool toy and then go, “but you can’t play with this one because it's special.” 

Mars in Pisces are the types to make a passive aggressive comment under their breath, and then when someone calls them out, they go, “I didn’t say anything!” 

When people who have Mercury in the 8th house become obsessed about something, they will never shut up about it. Just when you think you’ve managed to steer conversation into a new direction, they will find a way to bring up whatever topic is plaguing their mind. 

Pluto in Sagittarius generation is so self-righteous. Everyone is overly aggressive with their opinions, everyone thinks they’re right, and everyone is under the impression that we’re going to be these revolutionary radicals who will serve justice to those oppressed when most spend their time on the internet trying to cancel people. Like seriously we get so heated over nothing sometimes. I think that's because this generation really struggles with misdirected passion. I’m excited for these Pluto in Aquarius babies tho 

Aries Moons and their temper tantrums, that's all. 

People who have their Mars in Taurus will destroy things when they get angry, literally like a raging bull. They make a mess and fling things around, like what is that accomplishing?? And then afterwards they clean it up like nothing ever happened. 

The uncomfortable look on a Gemini Moon's face when someone starts to cry, they wanna leave asap and are looking for the nearest exit. 

Leos will cry, scream, and throw a fit over their hair. DO NOT MESS WITH THEIR HAIR. It's the one quality they like about themselves. A bad haircut or color treatment will have them SPIRALING. Like a serious identity crisis. They die inside when someone goes, “It's just hair, it will grow back.” 

Mercury Libras and the lies they spread! They lie about the smallest things and it's usually in an effort to people-please. 

People with their Mars in Sagittarius are psychos when they're mad. They lack the foresight to see how they’re putting themselves and others in danger. I’d say they are the most likely to carry out some form of revenge.

If you’re dealing with someone who has their Venus in the 8th house, make sure to establish some firm boundaries. They will just keep taking if you let them.

Venus 11th housers cause so much drama every time they develop feelings for one of their friends, I never seen this not cause tension within a friend group. 

12th house stelliums and the way they always maintain distance, and everytime you get too close they pull back, actually super frustrating. Also the silent treatments they pull! They’re not even doing it to punish, they're just doing it because they’re uncomfortable, but it still ends up feeling like a punishment for the other person.  

Mercury in Taurus individuals are sometimes too blunt. I honestly really love this quality hehe, but I have to admit they’ve offended me just by pointing out the obvious. 

Aries 11th housers always feel like they’re in competition with their friends. 

Moon Trine Uranus and crying at the most unexpected things. I have this friend that I’ve known since middle school, never saw her cry once. Even when we graduated and said our goodbyes for college, nothing. Then a year later, we were watching the finale for Euphoria together, and this girl started bawling at the end. I was like out of all the things to make you cry this is it?? Haha, I love her. 

The Pluto in Virgo generation hands out criticisms left and right. If my friend's parents had this placement, I always felt like they were judging me. 

Capricorns and their obsession with money, and also how they fail to realize that not everyone else is driven by monetary gains. 

Aquarius’s love to act like their egos aren’t big. The only reason why Leos get checked more on this is because of their bold sense of expression. 

[socheckitout-mikey]

do u think u could do something where johnny and the reader aren't officially dating or anything but she keeps stealing and wearing his clothes, and the gang starts teasing them for it, which eventually leads to him actually asking her out? i'm sorry if this is too much or anything but thank you so much!!

ahhh this is so cute! idk how i missed this one. my apologies for taking so long writing it out. it came out waaay longer than i anticipated, but i hope you enjoy what i came up with. (': <33 - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Title: The Shirt Thief

Pairing: Johnny Cade x reader

Summary: A cold night with Johnny Cade in the vacant lot brings you an unusual sense of warmth in the form of his denim jacket. What starts off with said jacket, causes you to end up with multiple articles of Johnny's clothes. It all seems harmless until the gang starts digging their noses into Johnny's business. Are you guys friends or are you more than that?

Word Count: 9,472

Disclaimer: THIS IS EDITED! I fixed the spelling mistakes and some of the grammatical errors. I also added a few new things to it, mainly in dialogue. I hope you like it though! :)

Warnings: Mentions of abuse in Johnny's home (with his parents), animals hunting and fighting, Soc's bullying the reader - vice versa, almost attempted assault, the gang coming to the rescue, rough housing with the gang (banter mainly) and a whole lot of sass! Johnny is somewhat ooc here because he's more talkative and sassy, but it's just how the piece came along! Let me know if I forgot anything else.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

  The story of our pesky shirt thief begins in the vacant lot under the sparkling night sky. This night was a relatively clear one in the cusp of autumn’s frost. The full moon was ample, a stunning silver glow that hypnotically danced, shrouded slightly from the wispy clouds sent onward by the chilly fall wind. Amber, golden and burnt brick red crumpled leaves tumbled noisily across the sandy dirt in a mini whirlwind. A toasty fire was being nurtured timidly upon the outskirts of this deserted place, courtesy of Johnny Cade. Underneath the jagged canopy of an almost bare tree, losing its wrinkled leaves, our greasy raven haired boy’s fingers quivered around the spindly stick in his hand. Gave an experimental poke to the half snapped branch swarmed by the smouldering, orange flames. He did not shiver from the cold, but from rampant nerves that pertained to someone he was particularly fond of being there beside him. That person being you.

  In a gloomy haze, stretched over sixteen years, the dependent vacant lot with all of its decaying junk left to rot had become his home away from home. It was somewhere he could come to in order to escape the harshness he had just down the street, riddled with its cluttered and intense violence. The one he had with his parents – if he could ever really call them that – had never been consumed with even an inkling of love or nurturing. It practically rotted away from the inside out with its creaky floorboards, dust riddled insides and the damp lining the walls like a thick winter scarf. A location where he was destined to be neglected in, for the only attention he obtained was to be hollered at by his mother when she was hacked off at whatever or whoever it was that particular time: Whereas his father brandished anything he could in hand to pelt him with. The thought made Johnny shudder, a sick nauseous feeling welling up inside of him. Slimy and cold.

  However, not all was lost. There had been some silver linings in teaching him things such as love, loyalty and camaraderie: His gang of reliable buddies that would stretch to the ends of the Earth for him were the culprits. Although they had nothing too, they gave him everything he’d been missing. Well, almost everything. They were the sole reason he had not run away about a million times by now. They grounded him, created a net of safety and support that he never would have experienced otherwise if he had not been born in this very downtrodden neighbourhood. Yet they could not save him from everything – a harsh reality he came face to face with daily. Nothing and no one could ever replace the lacking love of his parents.

  Nevertheless, the youthful greaser that looked as if he were a puppy that had been kicked one too many times had grown used to bumming around most nights on the busted leather car seat left to waste away in the lot. A frequent bed he now sat upon to gaze up at the glittering stars in the midnight haze of the dark sky. He pondered to himself, watching it while his most favourite person in the world sat off to his right. The silence between you both wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Just off experiencing your own inner worlds whilst you enjoyed the other’s presence. Johnny wasn’t much of a talker as is. You understood the chips he had on the table and didn’t mind in the slightest, but you had your ways of getting him talking.

  Despite the fact that he had a warmer and much more benevolent destination to crash at nightly: The Curtis House. He felt an immense pang of guilt and shame engulf him entirely at the thought of taking up that space. This house did not consume the same dreamy and abundant riches that one would desire at the core. Instead those fantasies were only destined for reality on the Wicked West Side of Tulsa, Oklahoma. “The home to the rich and greedy,” as Sodapop loved to put it.

  Although the Curtis House lacked in material volume, it oozed a charm in its bare necessities and rundown appearance, with its peeling papered walls and well played piano that needed a miracle of tuning. What it lacked when it came to standardised beauty was made up for by its glowing warmth of love, companionship and acceptance of all the inhabitants that nestled under its rickety roof. It was a safe haven for anyone needing a place to lay low to avoid getting into trouble that could be avoided; a.k.a trouble with the law. Dallas and Steve were also regular inhabitants of the well loved couch perched up against the wall by the front door of the home: A product of powerful tempers that needed quenching. They found solace on that old, brown cushiony hunk of junk just as Johnny did when the nights grew too cold or unbearable on his lonesome.

  Johnny stared up at Orion's Belt wondrously, remembering the time he'd heard Ponyboy rattle on about how he'd woken up to find the notorious Tim Shepard occupying his couch, reading the morning paper.

  'Now, what in the hell was someone like Tim Shepard doin' on the Curtis’ couch?' Johnny thought silently.

  Never had he bagged the likes of the eldest Shepard to reach out for a lifeline like that. It was almost unheard of, unfathomable. Tim was a handsome young man with a gnarly looking scar running from his temple to his chin. He was hard, cold and twisted. Jail, booze and all the criminal endeavours he had under his belt were like a morbid toolkit of how to be the best hoodlum out there. He looked about as capable of accepting charity as a lost soul in Hell. Then Johnny supposed that he never really knew him like Dally did. Johnny's silent disposition made it challenging for him to get close to anyone outside of his gang of buddies. Sometimes he preferred it this way, but usually he loathed it. Loneliness was easy in warping the soul of a good man.

  From what Dally had told him of Tim Shepard, it'd be an immense knock to his swelling pride to reach out for help and have everyone aware of it. Inflated prides and fragile egos didn't do wonders for people with big mouths. Hence why Johnny kept his damn trap shut about it after Pony had told him.

  'Man, he's gotta be pullin' my leg or somethin'.' He said internally before shaking his head.

  Expelling a breath, Johnny settled back into the leather seat as comfortably as possible. He swore he'd get a bad back after opting to take the lumpy side of the car bench with the springs gnawing their way through. It had been the gentlemanly thing to do after all. He was a good guy with a good heart.

  Warmth pervaded nicely from the reasonably sized fire he'd established in front of you both, but the chilly wind licked at any bare bits of skin daring to peer through tiny cracks in clothes. He hardly shivered outside of a nervous twitch. Perhaps that was only due to the fact he'd grown accustomed to the elements no matter the weather – unlike yourself.

  Instead his charcoal eyes were doe-like, shakily flickering to his right where you sat. Only then in this moment did he fully come to the present moment, understanding the cold bit at your nose, ears and fingers in a way that looked cute. Yet despite your shivering that you so desperately attempted to hide, you sat there in all of your beautiful glory with only a few inches of space between you both. A comfortability you bathed in that seemed so raw, as if you were merely sitting on your living room couch with both of your knees and feet tucked under you and just off to the side. Peace prevailed from the tender smile gracing your features. A subconscious practice, you definitely seemed to be lost in your own thoughts. Johnny stared at you, and wondered what kind of movie was flashing behind those pretty eyes to have the sun dawn across your face like that. To him, all he could see was the vacant lot – a desolate place where only hoodlums would hang in droves, drawn in by its trashy grounds.

  "You starin' cuz I got somethin' on my mug or it's just that ugly?" You grinned like a chessy cat, turning to look him directly in the eye. Thinking that being a wise cracker was funny.

  Damn you and your perceptiveness.

  Instantaneously Johnny ripped his gaze from yours, stiff as a plank. Embarrassment dashed across every cell in his body and left his lungs flat of oxygen. Man, if he thought his usual heartbeat was fast, what was happening inside of his chest right then must have been the speed of goddamn light!

  All he could do was stammer out, "U-u-uh n-n-neither!" The poor guy sounded like Porky The Pig. 

  Your eyelids fluttered in astonishment at the stuttering mess of a young man he was. So jumpy. A mouse scuttling around on sharp eggshells. Part of you would've felt proud of your handiwork if it had been anyone else, but it was Johnny, your best friend. "Awe shucks, Johnny-cake," you offered him sheepishly, "I didn't tell you to stop. I was just messin' with ya. Gotta keep you on your toes somehow."

  Messing with him? That was evident. He wasn't cross with you for pulling on his leg, just bothered by himself for getting caught out in the act. "S'okay, I g-get it." He shrugged, trying to play it cool whilst he stared into the portal to the Underworld.

  "Penny for your thoughts?" You tried again, bumping him softly with your shoulder.

  "Nothin' much," He lied smoothly, picking at the hole in his tennis shoe.

  "You sure you ain't developin' the cure for cancer or somethin'? You're pretty smart." You inquired with a cheeky beam.

  "Shoot! Do I look like I know what two plus two equals?" Johnny was getting a little bit sassy.

  "Okay okay, I get it. I'll back off." You chortled.

  'Yeah, thank goodness for that…' Johnny thought to himself. Suddenly he was uneasy with the idea of you ever discovering his little moments of staring at you because he loved the way you looked in candid moments like this one just passed. How did one go about saying these kinds of things? Johnny didn't know a lick. He was a dejected lost cause in the romance department. An awkward bump on a log. Felt he looked cruddy right about now too so he scratched the back of his head fervently for a second. No one really gave him a second glance. He was invisible and too quiet to be noticed.

  Yet he failed to realise that you noticed him.

  His forlorn expression had been obscured by his shaggy bangs that hung on his forehead. In fact, they no longer existed. You watched him struggle with something akin to wrestling a twenty foot gator inside of that skull of his. It made you feel funny on the inside, as if you were to blame. Diligently Johnny picked up the jagged stick he'd used to poke the flames with earlier. Started drawing in the dusty cold dirt at his feet. Back and forth, left and right, then round and round. A tedious therapeutic cycle.

  'Yup, he's off to the moon again.' You thought. 'I'll give him a sec to recoup. I think I made him short circuit a little too hard.' 

  Just then the bleakness of the night pressed its breathy lips against you. You shivered in response, huddling unconsciously to Johnny for his radiator heat. Part of him was shaking too. The flames jolted haphazardly. A violent twirl of dead leaves kicked up into the air before the wind relented altogether and they fluttered into the fire that engulfed them. It was a beautiful sight indeed, albeit destructive. The elements typically were unforgiving. That was the cycle of life. Mother Nature worked in wondrous ways that went beyond the mere perception of the human mind. Ever evolving and always there. It had put a smile on your face, and Johnny looked at you once more.

  "Now, you wanna give me a penny for your thoughts?" He asked.

  You slowly turned to look at him, your smile unwavering, "And cash in my trade secrets when you won't give me yours? That don't tally up to me."

  Johnny shrugged, trying to hide a ghost of a smile on his features, "You just caught me off guard that's all…"

  "Oooooh so I got the element of surprise on my side?" You wiggled your eyebrows. "Who knew I was mighty smooth!"

  Johnny rolled his charcoal eyes, shook his head with a laugh, "Don't get too big headed now," he warned.

  "Why, cuz I'll float away?" 

  "Naw," Johnny shook his head, "You sound like Two-bit."

  Your countenance fell from grace then; all of the humour drained completely, replaced with a sulk. "Now you just went and ruined it."

  Johnny laughed heartily, "I dunno why you got it against him, yn. It was only fifth grade-," 

  "Don't remind me of fifth grade! He put gum in my hair and you saw it." You warned with a finger pointed at him. “I looked like a coconut headed bum for two years, Johnny Cade! Two years I ain’t ever gonna get back.”

  "Alright, alright! Don't shoot." He mumbled with a half smirk on his face.

  "And don't laugh either. Who's side are you on anyway?" You mumbled with your arms folded over your chest.

  Johnny met his match in attempting to swallow the laughter down, "Who knew you were this much of a sore loser," with a shake of his head.

  "Sore loser my ass…" You retorted, looking off to the side like a petulant child.

  All Johnny could do was laugh.

  The sourness of your mood forced you to realise the lateness of the night. The cold showed its first signs of frost that danced mistily away from the firelight. You quivered fully this time, rubbing your nimble hands up and down your arms. "Are you cold?" Johnny finally had the courage to ask.

  "Uh-huh! But I'll be okay."

  "You know you don't have to tough it out for me, right?" Johnny said sincerely. "You shoulda brought a coat. It's November not August."

  "I forgot, mom." You mumbled wryly.

  "Man, don't call me that. It sounds strange." He pulled a face as he spoke.

  "And why not?" You demanded. 

  "Cuz you sound like T-," He began, but you cut him off.

  "Don't even think about saying that name!"

  Despite himself, Johnny was laughing something awful. A grin spread across his face akin to a mixture of pride and victory. He'd bested you in the end and even you knew it. "You asshole-," You muttered, but it all bled through into your own sense of laughter that mingled with his. 

  Then it seemed to die down, a comfortable glow encasing you both. In the midst of it you hardly realised Johnny shimmying beside you – too caught up in the afterglow. But then an uncanny warmth of freshly worn denim was draped over your shoulders. Ghosts of fingertips touched the nape of your neck as it was laid there. Your head turned to find Johnny retracting his hands shyly and passing it off without a word. The gesture touched you, made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

  "Why?" Your better judgement couldn't stop the question from flying out of your mouth.

  Johnny squirmed uncomfortably under your focused stare, "I dunno…" he shrugged. "You were cold and didn't have a jacket. It was the right thing to do I guess."

  The right thing to do. It made you beam beautifully then. Johnny Cade was always doing the right thing. Well, maybe not all the time when he was with his buddies, but usually he did. A good guy with a good heart that made yours flutter at the touch. The act of giving you his most prized possession really touched you in ways that made your eyes begin to water. You needed a second to blink them back. Hoping he hadn't noticed. Luckily he hadn't. 

  You thanked him in the only way you knew how to, by leaning your head on his shoulder. He stiffened to the touch, unfamiliar with it. Johnny wasn't much of a hugger, so physical contact was reserved for special moments. He allowed it this time and you felt his body shake, unsure with what to do with himself. Your fingers wrapped around his bicep, a reassuring squeeze so light it helped him realise you weren't going to hurt him. You never could. He was too special, too gentle, but wild in his own way when he let himself out freely. Yet the person he was now, the boy that gave you his jacket and talked with you the most; that was your Johnny Cade.

  "Thank you, Johnny-cake." You whispered into the air, gently holding his hand and squeezing softly. It was sweaty.

  "D-don't mention it." He swallowed, giving you an experimental squeeze back. "It's just my jacket, softie."

  "Who you callin' softie?" You look up at him with a cocked eyebrow.

  "You."

  Silence befell you, and it was laced in a tranquil dose. Hushed whispers reverberated off of the caverns in your hearts, growing more prominent. All the giggles filled with the springy frolicking of baby lambs. Clumsy and endearing. Johnny lit a fire in you unmatched and vice versa. Young love that was mutual, but unknown to the other. You stayed with him for quite some time, until he walked you home. You'd sent him off with a wave after him shyly telling you to keep it. Made him promise not to sleep out in the cold, and Johnny kept his word. Slunk all the way to the Curtis House three hours before sunup to fortunately find it free. Rest was his, all with a smile screwed on tightly to his features.

  Many more instances of thievery occurred with your pesky little fingers and the growing feelings that possessed you like a restless spirit. Time spent with Johnny became your drug of choice, and you could not get enough of him. No funny business was happening, it was just your personalities melding well together. You brought out a sassy part to him, and surprisingly he could keep up with you. Each meeting was set in colder conditions than the last. Forcing Johnny to bring in what little reinforcements he had. You either seemed to forget a jacket or your layers weren't nearly enough. His jacket was a chameleon's skin, bouncing from his shoulders to yours. His shirts were a comforting reminder of him when he wasn't around – shields against the bleakness of winter. His grey sweatshirt was your favourite. Everything began to accumulate. 

  One day you were both coming from the tracks in the Shepard outfit where a little creek was running through another vacant lot by an old abandoned factory. The water was still frozen and the trees were barren. All sorts of junk stuck to the frosty ground. It was kind of niche-like, a quiet place that seemed abandoned when the sun shone its rays upon Tulsa. It had been an accidental find during a summer day the year before. A superb place to explore when things were warmer and less soggy. Though it was apparent that neither of you had the courage to explore the dangerous insides of the abandoned warehouse in its entirety. Anyone could be lurking there, boobietrapped the innards to protect their stashed hoards. So the pair of you stuck to the outskirts towards the vacant lot beside it.

  There you both were, sat upon a crumpled wall, admiring a winter's afternoon like a pair of Humpty Dumpty’s. The sun was bright in the sky, threatening to melt the world entirely. The first inklings of spring graced reality. The robins were chirping, hopping around in search of food nearby. Adorable feathered critters, so fluffy. They reminded Johnny of Christmas as one turned its neck beside him, curiously looking up into his black eyes. Both were inquisitive of the other.

  "He looks like you-," your half whisper broke out into the air too loudly. The disturbance made the robin jolt and fly off.

  Johnny sighed, "Man, he got so close this time. You just had to go and ruin it didn't you?"

  "I'm sorry. Was there a spiritual connection happening? How rude of me!" You gasped with a hand over your heart.

  He shook his head, grinning because he wasn't angry about it at all. "He was a cute little guy though…"

  "Hence why I said he looked like you." You clarified.

  Johnny exploded with a blush, shaking his head again, "You must've hit your head when you fell on the ice earlier."

  "My head is not any worse off than it was before, thank you very much!" You defended yourself.

  "You know, the first sign of someone tellin’ porkies is denial, right?"

  "I am not tellin’ porkies!"

  "Are too-," Johnny countered, nudging you with his elbow.

  "Am not!"

  Falling back into that effortless banter made you both grin like chessy cats. It was silly, but very much needed. You knew Johnny got extra embarrassed whenever you'd start complimenting him, especially in the looks department. You didn't say these things just to throw him off, but because you truly meant them. Johnny was cute. One of the cutest guys you'd seen in a longtime. Maybe he wasn't moviestar handsome like Sodapop, but girls were missing out when they overlooked him. He had his own things to bring to the table; loyalty, kindness, abiding the law… Just to name a few. You suddenly shook these thoughts out of your head, deciding if you went too deeply down this path that it was best not to be done in Johnny’s presence. Lest you were to blabber about it like you'd done to your other friends who'd told you to ask him out already. They just didn't understand how delicate the matter was really. Johnny wouldn't say yes anyway.

  "Hey look! Those cats are back," Johnny quietly hissed by your side, pulling you out of your daze.

  You followed his line of sight and sure enough the two male felines were there. Lithe in nature and mean looking. A skinny orange tabby trotted forward, a snaggle tooth protruding from his mouth. By his side was his black Bombay counterpart, scraggy bodied with dirty fur and a distinct chip taken from his ear. They were silent, far from their former glory days when they knew what a good home was. The Bombay was a little bigger than his cheddar companion, and it was easily understood by any human looking in that a pact had been formed between them through a necessity to survive. The pair of you had spied them before, a distrusting set that initially hissed and growled. They were all claws and teeth so you kept your distance to avoid any surprise visits to the clinic. However now they seemed to tolerate your presence, acting as if the silence you exuded exempted your existence. Johnny and you admired them, goofy grins on your faces, because the cats were ready to commit their timely crime of hunting for some grub of the day. You knew who they reminded you of.

  "Well if that ain't Dally and Tim," You consciously made the effort to whisper.

  Johnny nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I can see it."

  "Which one's which?" You asked, genuinely curious about Johnny's take.

  He was reluctant to take his eyes off the cats, watching them begin prowling forth towards an unsuspecting robin. "Huh?" he hummed, finally looking at you just as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

  "Which cat is Dally and which one is Tim? You know 'em better than I do." You pressed softly.

  "Oh, that's easy, Dally's the ginger tabby and Tim's the Bombay." He offered with a nod of his head in the felines direction.

  "What why?" You demanded it up at him.

  “Well if we’re goin’ off their looks for a start, Tim looks like the Bombay cat. Guy is a real alley cat – got a lot of street smarts and carries himself well. Besides, he's tougher than a bag of nails.” Johnny did have a point – Tim looked just like that black cat with his curly jet hair.

  Speaking of the black cat, it had entered a state of hunting, kneeling down with coiled taught muscles – just ready to pounce on that unsuspecting robin below, pecking at the seeds you and Johnny had left behind earlier. You hoped it wouldn’t be eaten, couldn’t stomach to see something so savage. However, you supposed that was only the way the circle of life worked.

  “The orange tabby’s Dally cuz of that cool look in his eyes. The way he carries himself so freely. Out of the two, the tabby’s the one that’s in charge somehow. He writes the rules that the other cat’s always tryna best.” Johnny offered with a brief shrug before continuing, “Not that the black cat is following any rules. Both have minds of their own.”

  Boy, you could really hear the way he admired Dallas Winston from the way he spoke about the orange tabby. It was wholesome. Dally was Johnny’s hero — the kid practically worshipped the ground the guy walked on. You didn’t see why. To you, Dallas Winston was a rotten hoodlum with a track record of breaking the law in every way, shape and form that he could. He frightened you like The Boogeyman had when you were nine. Where you both engaged with each other somewhat cordially, you preferred to keep your distance. You supposed that you had no room to judge after all. There was a deep friendship that had developed between him and Johnny; you’d seen it in Dally’s cold hard eyes… affection. It made you grin then, wondering if Johnny thought strangely of your heroes too.

  “And both of them are jackasses.” You countered, bumping his shoulder mischievously.

  Johnny laughed a little, looking at you for a few short moments. “Yeah alright, I’ll give you that.”

  You liked the way he’d described the two though. It was a statement that fit the pair of hoodlums in a peapod together. Yet the orange tabby did appear to be the leader as it licked its wonky chops delectably. Inched closer by the second, a silent assassin to carry out its hunter gatherer lifestyle. It was intelligent, mimicking the movement of the robin that had caught onto it. It lured the bird on a swift and winding course, swiping for it good and hard but missed. Never mind. The robin fluttered up and into the line of sight of the black cat, a moment of fear in its beady eyes. Yet just as the night-like feline swept its razors at it, the robin burst into the air and flew off in the opposite direction. It had missed its meal by a feathers length. Every other robin in the vicinity flew off instantly, leaving the two cats dumbfounded.

  In frustration, the orange tabby yowled and darted forth. Its clawed paw zipped out and popped the mouth of the black cat. The black cat hissed, stunned for a mere second before it lunged for the only comrade it had in this god forsaken world. The two tumbled together in an infuriated Halloween special of blurred fur. A gasp floated from your mouth as they rolled back and forth. A genuine cat fight unheard of. They sounded like two ghouls trying to out spook the other – alien and loud.

  Johnny couldn’t help but laugh out of nervousness. He wasn’t trying to be cruel whatsoever. Didn’t like to see animals fighting and hurting each other, but it humoured some sick part of him. “Just like Dally and Tim, huh? Buddies one minute then at each other’s throats the next.”

  “Amen to that.” You found the humour of the situation, only because it was too similar to the real life hoodlums you both knew.

  You’d seen your fair share of those guys beefing it out in the past together in The Dingo parking lot, let alone practically in your own backyard. They were a strange duo – too competitive and cut from the same cloth. They’d never find another person just like them, that was for sure.

  Just then an icy gust came throttling through the area, reminding you both that it was still winter. A tremor ran through the pair of you, and you huddled together for warmth. By now the cats had slumped off to their own corners of the lot, hissing and growling as they went. Sore egos and bodies made them sulk and mewl in the shade whilst they licked their wounds.

  “Dammit-,” your teeth chattered, moving closer to Johnny. “March my ass…”

  Johnny breathed a laugh, shaking his head. He scanned your features humorously, those bushy brows hidden by a thick blanket of his black greasy bangs that flopped onto his forehead.

  “What?” You mumbled, your fingertips unconsciously reached for him in the space between you both. Johnny didn’t notice.

  He stared at you for a good three seconds before opening his mouth to speak, “How can you be cold with all those layers you got on?”

  “Well I mean it’s obvious, it’s winter.”

  “Uh-huh-,” Johnny sassed, smirking slightly, “As if you ain’t wearin’ my shirt, my sweater and my jeans jacket too. Got the whole department store on your back.”

  Abashment took hold of you as your gaze dropped down to inspect yourself. There was Johnny’s jacket on you, and underneath his tattered grey sweater, that black t-shirt poking up above the collar. And Johnny? He was adorned in a wrinkled white shirt with a blue and creamy egg yellow flannel over the top you guessed was one of the gang’s. Worn over that was Dally’s brown leather jacket with the cosy sheepskin lining. You pouted with a bruised ego, looking off to the side, “It’s not like you’re naked or nothin’…” you murmured petulantly.

  Johnny chuckled breathily, your joined hands jostling as he tugged on it without any semblance of awareness, as if to gain your attention. “Not yet, but I’m gonna be! Man, do you know what I had to say to get this jacket from Dally?” He was teasing you.

  “Mmmppppffff…” you grunted, crossing your legs on that wall.

  “The guys are askin’ questions and I dunno what to tell ‘em any more!” His voice broke a bit before he continued, “Two thinks I’m preparin' to run down the centre of town butt naked!”

  That made you burst out into fits of giggles. The thought was so unorthodox it was hilarious. “You’re tellin’ him that’s the truth right? God, could you imagine? I can see the news articles now: Johnny Cade, Teenage Delinquent Gone Buck Wild!” You beamed, throwing your free hand out to elaborate some unseen picture.

  Johnny shook his head again, laughing with you, “Man, you’re just as bad as Soda!”

  “I’m twice as good looking too!” You offered with all the cheekiness you could muster.

  All he could offer was an entertained roll of his eyes. Your shoulders bumped together, old comrades turned into something more. His soft gaze fell onto your interwoven fingers, and his heart fluttered like dove wings. A widened gaze, then that notorious blush exploded under that tanned flesh. His mind was incapable of functioning. It was wholesome, but you read everything wrong. Made a move to release his hand and he stopped you.

  "Don't." It was the strongest word you'd heard from him as he held your hand tighter than he ever had before. Not enough to hurt you, but to let you know it was real too.

  "Y-you sure?" It was your turn to stutter.

  The look he shared with you may have been wavering to some degree, but there was certainty in those eyes. His mouth opened to speak, "Yeah, I don't mind one bit."

   I don't mind one bit. It ran round and round in your head. A starstruck expression invaded your beautiful countenance. The reassurance was a bonus that made your belly fill with a plethora of butterflies. Cloud nine had nothing on this moment.

  Johnny explored the expressions flitting across your face with a newfound sense of wonder. That pleasant delight racing through you was infectious as you stared off into the junk riddled vacant lot, your mind preoccupied with his hand in yours. The sun dawned across your features once again, like that autumn night you'd spent with him in your neighbourhood's vacant lot. The understanding that he was the source of that made his belly squirm, a giddiness overcoming him. He could no longer deny the fondness he had for you so blatantly.

  With him leaning a little closer to you, he whispered, "How about you give me at least some of my stuff back?" 

  "Mmmmm maybe,"

  "yn-," there was an uncommon sense of sternness in his voice.

  "But-," You tried objecting.

  "No buts-," he rushed out with a shake of his head, "At least give me one! I've been wearing this shirt for three days now!" He was hilariously incredulous.

  "Is that why you stink?" You taunted him.

  "Not funny-," He made his best attempt to be cross with you.

  "Okay, okay! I'll give them back." You said begrudgingly.

  "You better bring the cavalry with how much you have stolen from me, you little shirt thief."

  "In my defence, you did give them to me… But I'll have them for you next time I see you, scouts honour!" You spoke sincerely with your free hand held dramatically over your heart.

  "Uh-huh, that's what you said last time and I still didn't get 'em back." He bantered.

  "Well, that wasn't a real scout's honour." You admitted with a diffident rub to the back of your head.

  "yn-," he shook his head.

  "Hey! I'm serious this time."

  "Good…" He trailed off, his other hand beginning to play with the rings banded around your fingers absentmindedly.

  Blissfulness carried upon the wind, a promise of returning what wasn't yours already settled. Golden light broke through the clouds, catching Johnny in the face directly, which made him grimace evidently. You grew lost in his handsome physique, feeling the pad of his thumb drag up and down the back of your hand. The sensation was special, because Johnny had warmed up to you so much.

  It was a lively Saturday night, and with the determined honour of a scout member, you showed up like clockwork with a bag filled with Johnny's things. It was just as the crowds at The Nightly Double encroached upon the Tulsa streets in boisterous droves. Everyone was high on the giddy delight of the movie they had just watched – the late night viewing of two specials before the drive-in closed its doors for the night. Previous arrangements with another friend had you missing out on the fun, but here you were wearing your very own leather jacket with Johnny's denim one bunched up nervously in the palms of your hands. Speaking of Johnny, he had tagged along with the gang – minus Darry, because movies seemed to bore the older man to death.

  A pair of scrawny looking Socy guys stalked out of the front doors, acting like big shots, cutting in front of a dark green Corvair on its way out and into the oncoming traffic. The driver of the same social class hung out of the driver's window whilst his girl attempted to pull him back in.

  "Hey watch it, wise guys! If you're lookin' to get your asses run over, then be my guests and step back in my line of sight!" He snarled aggressively before his girlfriend won the battle and pulled him back inside to tell him to "knock it off".

  A line began to form behind them as the couple argued incessantly, presumably over the guy's foul temper. Car horns honked on the spring breeze, forcing the guy to nervously step on the gas. They almost crashed into a Chevy Impala before zipping off home. You could see the animated scowl of the girl refusing to talk to her boyfriend in the side view mirror as they retreated. She glowered at you as if you were the scum of the earth. It didn't make you feel too hot.

  The two wisecracking Soc's cackled at their attempts at being hard, stalking forth when they caught sight of your lonesome form. Vile cackles were shot your way as they walked past you before deciding the better option was to encircle you like a couple of hammerhead sharks.

  'Boy, these dingbats don't know what tree they're barking up.' You thought, stiffening your body up for any form of unexpected physical contact. You weren't gonna let yourself get blown over that easy. 

  "What's up, greaser? You lookin' to bum around on our streets?" The six foot tall pencil with the sour breath sneered down at you, bumping your shoulder, making a come around to your left. When he disappeared behind you, the other one with chestnut hair the texture of straw invaded your face.

  "Yeah, who said you were allowed round these parts anyway?" He jeered, smacking his gum obnoxiously.

  Typically these dorks wouldn't have been graced with so much of your attention, but being on your own with a whole sea of onlookers made you weary. However you sure didn't show it. No one was there to stand up for you so you had to do it yourself. All you could do was raise your eyebrows, feeling the burning sense of humiliation rise from the pits of hell beneath your feet. It felt toasty, but the wrong kind. A glower of pure vexation was sent up their way. 'Who are these cocky jackasses, anyway? I've got the same right to use these streets like anyone else!' You contemplated.

  "Oh really? I never knew white trash chequerboards like yourselves owned the streets everybody walks on." Your lips flapped wryly before you could even say a word.

  The entertained gazes of onlookers of every social class stopped to stare. Murmurs of speculation broke out: Two against one didn't typically seem like a fair fight, but with the sheer scrawniness of the socially elite, it seemed to look like the chips fell in your favour. Though you knew appearances could be deceiving, harbouring a surprising sense of physical strength.

  In a rift of the crowd, six pairs of familiar eyes honed in on your shining moment of unprovoked confrontation.

  "White trash chequerboards?!" The pencil growled out, sharing a glance with his straw haired counterpart. For the most part they were dumbfounded, not having expected you to stand up for yourself.

  "If anyone's white trash, it's you, greaseball." The second one jutted his finger in your face.

  Nothing about your countenance betrayed you. Cold and detached you stared at that finger in your face with a deep sense of boredom. Then an almost smug smirk etched your features as you stared up into his grey eyes.

  "Oh my, my!" A dripping sense of mocking venom entered your tone. "Seems like I got more class than that finger you got pointed at me. Seriously, you got a licence to be armed with carryin' that thing? You better watch what you do with it before it falls into the wrong hands. You know, because with great power comes great responsibility and all." You were armed with so much sass it made you invincible.

  The crowd surrounding you burst into a fit of laughter so potent that it burnt these punks into a startled pile of ash. The pair of Soc's were so vapid that they were a bore even to themselves, which is why they were acting out as if they were five times their sizes. You were lively, armed with a silver tongue that could slice just about anyone to pieces who tried to humiliate you.

  "Oh yeah, you little punk?" The first one growled, invading all sense of your personal space.

  You took one step back, your eyebrows raised, "It's his responsibility, not mine. Whatch'yu gettin' all riled up for, eh? Can't take a joke, Mister Funny?"

  "I'll show you a joke when I knock your two front teeth out." He barked.

  Oooh's and aaah's broke through the crowd on a symphony of guffawing. You cocked one eyebrow up at him, a cockiness overcoming you. What could you do otherwise? If no one had your back, you had to have your own. That was just the way the cookie crumbled when you were a greaser – if there was a cookie at all.

  "Oooooh~ Don't threaten me with a good time, pencil dick." You snorted. "I will bend your ass like a goddamn pretzel before you can even have a chance to beg for your mommy to save you."

  The two guys shared a look, the degradation burning their senses of pride to withering embers. Their faces were pinkened beyond recognition, boarding on a fiery red. Your insults only poured gasoline on the fires. They couldn't back out now with the engrossed mass around the three of you. Your body stiffened as they went to grab you, preparing yourself for a fight that would no doubt cause the fuzz to come shutting it down. The image of yourself being cuffed in the back of a cop car had you overcome with a sense of terror. You weren't made for jail with your sharp tongue and sass. Wouldn't last two seconds flat in a grim place like that.

  Before any contact could occur, a boisterous New York accent throttled into the air, a familiar arm slinking over your shoulders, "Hey Dumb and Dumber, you really wanna go gettin' your asses handed to you by a girl in front of all of these people?" Dallas was snickering with a smoke hanging out of his mouth, leaning against you smoothly as he patted your upper arm, but he wasn't your only saviour.

  The other five lean and hard looking members of the Curtis gang had rolled up in all of their greasy headed glory. Pony and Johnny were Dally's flanks whilst Sodapop and Steve jammed themselves on either side of the pathetic turkeys that had bothered you. Two-bit prowled like a cat, that smug, wild grin carved onto his handsome features. The oldest of the six came in the centre of the perpetrators, an arm slung on each of their shoulders. It was overly friendly, even for Two.

  "Well, well, well, if it ain't the socially elite barking up a tree they didn't know was a mountain! I'd get your eyes checked if I were you." He laughed, squeezing them together under his impressive arms. The others joined in.

  "I think it's time these tuff lookin' sons of bitches got in the ring with the big shots." Steve yipped sarcastically, clapping the straw haired guy on the back a little too roughly.

  "Lookin' like a bunch of heavyweight champs, am I right?" Soda leered, his once kind blue eyes filled with a mischievous malice.

  The two Soc's looked at each other, realising they'd made a mistake in targeting you. "We don't want any trouble." The first one said, fumbling.

  "Yeah! We was only just jokin' around." The other made a pitiful attempt at joining in on the laughter.

  "Oh really now?" Dally quipped through dragon's breath, plucking his smoke from his lips and wiping the back of his index finger under his nose like he was annoyed. "I call bullshit, beanpole. Ain't that right, Johnny?" Dally asked Johnny, motioning towards him.

  With a black gaze as cold as obsidian, Johnny nodded his head, "Sure thing, Dally." He refused to take his gaze off of the perpetrators who recognised that hoodlum's menacing name anywhere.

  "Pony?" Dally turned, looking over your head at the fourteen year old greaser with the greyish green eyes. He put that smoke back in between his lips and inhaled sharply.

  "Yup!" Pony popped the 'p' at the end of the word.

  "Great, it's settled!" Dally exclaimed, pulling his arm from over your shoulders and rubbing his hands together like a fly with an evil plan. He stepped forward, his face a mere couple of inches from theirs. "You dumbasses get to go toe to toe with me for fucking with the wrong person, and then my buddies will have what's left of you. How do you like the sound of that?" 

  The way Dally seethed it even had you shaking in your boots. There was almost a sense of honour riding on your guts. It wasn't everyday that Dallas Winston was standing up for you, but when it happened you took it willingly. The two guys had become pale ghosts, shuddering with sweat dewing their foreheads. Dally meant those words, but it seemed he was mainly toying with them. So were the rest of the gang too. With matching Cheshire grins plastered on their faces they watched as the two shoved past Soda, tripping over the boot Johnny had stuck out and shot in through an opening in the crowd to salvation. Sent to faceplant on the ground with a series of laughter as the drama seemed to be over for the most part and people lost interest.

  "Where are you goin'? Wait until we set her on ya!" Sodapop called, wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulders. 

  "Yeah, she may seem like she’s all bark, but she's got one hell of a bite!" Steve cackled.

  Lost in an ocean of chaos, Johnny's inquiry of concern for you slithered back down his throat. He bled into the background, admiring the way your eyes rolled as the wisecracking descended upon you.

  "The hell was that, kid?" Dally said between inhaling his smoke. Rubbing the top of your head with his ringed fingers awarded him with a generous shove from you. His treatment hurt, but he was happy to see you, which was unusual.

  "Get offa me-," You grunted and he eventually relented.

  Before Steve could chime in about you being a smart ass or wandering around on your lonesome, your most dreaded member of the gang came blundering on over. A half drunken stupor holding him up by some invisible string, "Haha! Where did you learn to talk like that? Dare I say you got some inspiration from somebody in particular?" He waggled his eyebrows at you.

  "Oh, well ain't those the biggest words you’ve ever said! Ugh, don’t make me sick, two cents." You bit at him.

  "Eh, at least I'm worth somethin' in this world." He chuckled, clapping your shoulder.

  "That was meant to be an insult." You retorted.

  "Really? That's a whole compliment and a half!" He exclaimed with his arms thrown up.

  "Yeah yn, I sure can hear the church bells ringin' right now!" Soda grinned at you, cupping his free hand over his ear. In fact, to seal the deal he wrapped his arm around your shoulders as the seven of you began walking to your neighbourhood.

  Steve came up on the other side, walking the tight line of the curb, "From haters to lovers!" He beamed, spreading his palms out in the open space before you like he was presenting a far away picture. "It all started when you were in fifth grade and he was in sixth, gum to the hair, a pop to the mouth and the rest was history!"

  Johnny listened and observed, laughing halfheartedly along with his buddies. Something about Soda's and Steve's words tugged on his heartstrings in a plucking fashion. It was uncomfortable and didn't sit right with him. Yet he couldn't be too mopey about it, it wasn't like anybody knew his growing feelings for you. By now there was a confusion in your friendship, as if all these special moments you'd experienced together had evolved the friendship into something else. He was afraid of what that meant. Things would never be the same ever again, and he found himself eyeing up the bag full of his clothes on your shoulder and his jeans jacket wadded into your hand.

  Well, at least your promise had been genuine this time.

  If you weren't riled up before you were now. A sucker punch to the gut was minutely dodged by Steve, who hopped to safety behind Dallas like a kangaroo. Being surrounded by people you knew was nice as the mood settled somewhat. Johnny found his natural place to the left of you, keeping in time with your easy pace.

  Sodapop raised his eyebrows and asked the question everyone had been wondering, "Hey yn, what were you doing there all alone?"

  "Ain't that Steve's line?" You quipped.

  “Gettin’ to be more and more like Ponyboy everyday, yn!” Steve warned, messing up Pony’s hair for comedic relief.

  Pony was certainly not pleased, pulling his comb out of his back pocket and using the sideview mirror of a car to fix his hair in the dark. “Stupid Steve…” grumbled past his lips.

  “What was that?” Steve barked next to Soda.

  “Nothin’, said I looked stupid…” He lied with burnt cheeks and ears to match.

  "That's what I thought, little guy." Steve stared at him.

  Once the commotion had somewhat settled Dally eyed you up and spoke through his smoke, “Soda’s got a point. What were you doing there?” He noticed that bag over your shoulder and whistled, “Did your goody two shoes ass get kicked out or are you just droppin’ by to bid your farewells on us common folk before you skip town?”

  Put on the spot, you hesitated for a second, “Uh, I just came to see Johnny.”

  “With the entire mall's inventory?” Two grinned wickedly, pressing for more information. "Johnny's become quite the charity case lately." He teased, noogying Johnny playfully who shrugged him off with a small laugh.

  “Hey wait a sec, isn't that Johnny’s jeans jacket?” Pony spoke up once his precious hair had been rearranged.

  Dallas’s pesky fingers swiped the jacket in your hands with a mind of his own – and like a chimp, he examined its authentication closely. The five other members gathered around him as if he held the fifth wonder, which left you and Johnny with the liberation of simultaneously backing up at the edges of the throng. “You wanna make a break for it?” You hissed your suggestion at Johnny, who nodded his head.

  That’s when five heads whipped up with dumbfounded expressions. This was Johnny’s jacket! The one he said he’d lost. Soda’s eyes were the first to eye up that bag strapped to your shoulder, a familiar grey sweater poking out through the zipper that wouldn't close properly. “Hold on one stinkin’ minute.” Realisation hit him with a dopey grin.

  Two caught on next, his hand grasping the bag strap and pulling it from your shoulder. In the same motion he’d freed the grey sweater from the confines, only to find more clothes underneath. “Haha!” He cackled noisily, “You’re the one who’s been swiping his clothes? You sly fox!”

  “Johnny and yn sitting in a tree-,” Steve cackled, only to get cut off by Dally who smacked him in the chest.

  “What are you man, four?”

  “Four?! I’ll show you four!”

  “Oh glory-,” You mumbled, looking at Johnny, “I think I made a mistake.”

  “You think?” He hissed, his tone was somewhat biting, looking scared stiff for the incoming of terrible teasing.

  "Johnny's got a girlfriend! Johnny's got a girlfriend!" Soda and Two started chanting, patting and shaking their pal with enthusiasm. It wasn't long before the other three started in on it too. The chant of the year belted out from strong chests on shrill wails of hyena laughter.

  "Check him out, famous ladies man! I knew you had it in ya Johnny." Dally clapped his back.

  "Should've known you were stealing my girl, Johnny." Two teased. "You can have her the first five days of the week, but I call dibs on weekends! That's when she gets extra sassy."

  "In your dreams, two shits." You barked.

  "I dream of sixth grade every night!" Two swooned, making you laugh.

  Johnny was as red as a beet, even Ponyboy couldn’t contain his laughter. 'Boy, do we have something to tell Darry!' Pony's and Soda's eyes gleamed dazzlingly.

  "Eh, guess you won't be needing this!" Dally grinned from behind you both, softly tugging on his leather jacket Johnny was wearing. In one fell swoop it was off of his shoulders and draped over Dally’s humble forearm.

  “Here you go, young sire!” Sodapop bowed with a roll of his hand, an English accent flawlessly executed.

   In came Steve on one knee, holding up the humble denim article he'd swiped from Dally's pesky digits. “Oh Johnny, with all of my love for you, will you take this humble offer?” he exclaimed dramatically.

  Johnny snatched the jacket from Steve’s gripey hands, along with the bag of his shirts you’d brought along from Two-bit. He was embarrassed, that was evident. Wished you’d done this at a different time, but hey, duty called; a promise was a promise. Scout’s honour, right?

  Without even thinking he grabbed your hand in his, reeling you away from the madness, all sassy. “Alright, that’s enough now!”

  A chorus of wolf whistles expelled into the air. Wildness evident in the five guys who'd grown up with the both of you. They were just playing of course, excited that Johnny finally had a lady in hand. It wasn't often the raven haired greaser picked someone up, let alone initiated any physical contact – romantically of course. Johnny had always been quite reserved, but here he was taking the initiative, pulling you around in the opposite direction of them. Surprisingly assertive despite him shaking like a goddamn ghost.

  You guys got maybe a few feet away when Dallas called out on the wind, “Hey yn, you better not be takin’ off the clothes on Johnny's body or he’ll be arrested for public indecency!”

  "I said that's enough!" Johnny called back, heat vivid on his cheeks.

  With that you both escaped around the next corner, the gang's calls and laughter fading into the background. Dipped into an alleyway to lose them for good. Glory knew they'd follow you both, and Johnny couldn't bear the thought of that. There was exhilaration in your chests. Johnny's hand was hot and sweaty in yours when you wound onto Pickett and Sutton. The air felt tight and you were afraid you'd just made an inconsolable mess of everything.

  “Honest to God Johnny, that wasn’t planned-,”

  He was sour, scrunching up his face, “Shoulda just let you keep these things.” He said with a smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. “They looked better on you anyway.”

  “Johnny Cade,” you gasped, stopping in the middle of the street, the yellow light from above illuminating you both, “was that you flirting with me?”

  Albeit clumsy, he was endearing. “Maybe, I dunno.” His cheesy grin warmed your heart.

  All you could do was gawk at him.

  “Look, all I know is that I kinda don’t mind you stealing my crap, okay?”

  “So I have special authority to steal? What is this, a secret mission for your girlfriend?” You grasped onto his arm, leaning into him.

  Girlfriend settled in the air in a peculiar fashion. It had never been uttered before, you both had just been friends up until this point. The confusion between you both seemed to fizzle away. The term sounded right. Johnny didn't want to be your friend any more, the guy on the sidelines dreaming of being with you. He swallowed thickly, looking at you.

  "I'm sorry I-," he cut you short.

  "Nah don't be." He shook his head softly.

  "So uh," you breathed a laugh, "that means we're like dating? " You tested the word on your tongue.

  He exploded with a blush, and a sense of pride swelled in your heart. "Y-yeah-," he nodded softly.

  It went quiet, but nothing was awkward about it. Two hearts galloped like wild horses through summer filled fields. You found the courage to speak first, whispering mischievously into his ear, "So what about that secret mission?"

  Johnny rolled his eyes, but breathy humour expelled from his lips, “Operation Shirt Thief!” He said in his best movie man trailer voice.

  You burst out in a fit of giggles, the walk home feeling bountiful and warm.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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[slowandsteddie]

Part Two is here

Steve likes to clean headstones at cemeteries.

CW: drug mentions, weed being smoked, glossed over panic attack (I didn’t want to write on it too much), and Steve is so incredibly lonely.

3018 words. Not edited but I was EXCITED.

Steve had always enjoyed going to the cemetery. He had family buried there, sure, but that wasn’t what he went for.

He was the kind of guy who went to clean off the older headstones that no one else did. There was just something so honest and relaxing in giving people their names back.

A water bottle, a soft bristle toothbrush, and an old credit card were all he took out of the car with him whenever he parked. Steve cleaned in sections, giving each stone the time and care it needed to get all of the dirt and grime off of it and out of the names. As soon as the names were clean, he’d gently place his fingers over them and smile.

“Hello, Clarence.” He said softly. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

The only answer was a slight breeze and a crow cawing.

“Hello, my love,” he said to the bird before carefully pushing himself to his feet.

His knees were sore. That headstone required a lot more precision as it was a lot older and one wrong move would probably leave it crumbling. He had told the front office a few times about it, but they wouldn’t take care of it.

“We can’t make money upkeeping stones of people who have no family left to mourn them.”

He lost track of how many times he had been told that. It didn’t stop him from cleaning the stones and letting whoever was the receptionist that day know.

When he was done for the evening, he’d allow himself to bask in the peace that came over him and warmed him. He’d have a smile on his face that lasted until he got home.

The contentment would leave as soon as he saw that big house that he lived in. His parents were never home and he had no siblings to help him fill the empty halls with noise.

Steve used to throw a lot of parties, just so he would have other people under his roof with him. He hadn’t done that since the night that Nancy called their relationship bullshit and then immediately got into one with Johnathan. It hurt him more deeply than he could express, but it was a much needed wake up call.

The Upside Down was another wake up call, but he tried to ignore that one.

Now, if he wasn’t at work or hanging out with The Party as they liked to call themselves, he was cleaning headstones until he had to leave. He thought it was ridiculous that the cemetery closed at night. If he could, he’d probably stay the night in the mausoleum just so that the people resting there would know that they weren’t forgotten about. Not while he still had air in his lungs.

Most people would tell him that there were healthier things to do with his time. Less morbid things in any case. But he felt so alive when he was alone with the stones and birds. It was better than being alone with half a house he wasn’t even supposed to go into.

His room, the kitchen, the bathroom. That was what his parents wanted him to confine himself to. Not even the living room because he wasn’t supposed to have guests over when they weren’t home. And they were never fucking home.

Steve parked the car in the driveway and stared at that stupid fucking door that had nothing behind it and sighed. Deeply. The car was still running and his fingers tapped on the steering wheel.

No.

He couldn’t do it. Not tonight. He couldn’t stand the thought of being so utterly alone right now.

So, he backed out of the driveway and started driving again. He wasn’t even really sure of where he was headed, just that he wasn’t going to that house right now. If he went too far, he was going to have to stop for gas at some point and he didn’t get paid for a few more days. That meant he might go hungry for a day. That was fine. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it.

Eventually, he found himself at the trailer park. Wayne’s truck wasn’t there, but the van was. A good sign that Eddie was home and that his uncle was at work.

This time, Steve did turn off the car when he parked. A moment of hyping himself up later, Steve got out of the car and went to knock on the front door. Thirty seconds after that, he heard someone tripping over something. Then the door opened.

The smell of cigarette smoke rolled out into the fresh air and he couldn’t help but to breathe a little deeper.

Eddie looked good, his long curly hair pulled into a messy bun and baggy sweats hanging a little low on his hips. Any other circumstance, and Steve was pretty sure he’d feel blessed that he got to see Munson without a shirt on. He might have been scrawny but those tattoos were a work of art. He was a work of art. Fuck.

Steve had to blink a few times to realize that the other male had been talking to him.

“Sorry. Rough night,” he explained. Though, it hadn’t been rough until he started thinking about being alone. Again.

“How can I help?” Eddie’s voice was smooth and Steve had to swallow before he could reply.

“Do you, uh, have anything left in that lunch pail?”

“Is Steve Harrington really at my door, asking to buy weed from me?”

“Is that a yes or a no answer, Eddie Munson?”

“It’s a get in here and give me a minute answer.”

Steve didn’t need to be told twice. He went inside as soon as Eddie moved out of the way before closing the door behind him. He ran a hand through his hair as he took another step, just so he wasn’t right against the door.

Eddie wandered off, back to his room probably, and Steve stayed where he was. He looked around the small place and realized that this was a home. A place that was lived in, a place where love resided. His house could never compare. It was bigger and in better condition, but that meant nothing to him.

“You’re in luck, I have a baggie with your name on it.”

“I swear to god if you just used that sharpie to write The Hair on that bag…”

Eddie tossed the sharpie away from himself and whistled innocently. Steve wanted to be annoyed, but he actually laughed.

“So. How much?”

Eddie tilted his head.

“For the stuff?” Steve continued.

“You’re going to buy and smoke it, but you draw the line at saying weed?”

It should be illegal for someone to look that good while being that condescending.

“How much for the weed, Eddie?” Steve gave in.

“For you? I’ll take ten bucks.”

“Damn,” He replied as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “That’s highway robbery.” A sly smile tugged at his lips as he pulled out a Hamilton and held it out for the older male.

Eddie took it and put the baggy in Steve’s still outstretched hand. “Now get out of here. I have a reputation.”

“You? What reputation?” He teased.

Eddie grinned. “The one where I don’t hang out with jocks. See you tomorrow, Harrington.”

“Not if I see you first, Munson.”

Steve shook his head before heading toward the door. Their interaction kept him warm all the way home.

That time when he arrived in his driveway, he stayed there. He pulled the keys out of the ignition and locked the doors to the vehicle before walking around the side of the house to get to his backyard. He knew better than to get into the pool while home alone, even if he was on the swim team. But that wasn’t where he was headed. He kept walking until he was in the woods, at his usual haunt.

He had built himself a little structure that was barely big enough for two people. It was tight and comfortable. Very underwhelming compared to the house that constantly felt like Too Much. He sat down on the small pile of pillows and wrapped a blanket around himself in an attempt to get that warm feeling back from his interaction with Eddie.

He grabbed his bong, which was always in his little hut, and the nearby water bottle before setting it up. Next he grabbed the lighter and flicked it a few times to make sure that it still worked. He didn’t smoke weed a lot, a baggy could probably last him a few months, but sometimes he just needed to be under the influence in order to handle being in his room. With the hazy feeling, it was easier to pretend that there was someone in the other room. Or, at least easier to believe that it could be true.

One hit was all it took for him to realize that Eddie had given him the good stuff. A huge smile tugged at his lips. He’d make him some cookies or something to thank him. He’d have to come up with a good excuse to stop by that Hellfire table at school and drop off a plate, but he could figure it out later. When he got that far.

A second hit gave him the feeling that he was after. Steve felt so cool when he realized that he didn’t choke like he usually did. He took care of everything properly before hiding the weed under the pillows that he had been sitting on.

He wandered back to his house, feeling a little better about the whole Alone Situation, and went in through the backdoor so he wouldn’t have to walk around the house again. Steve got a few steps away before remembering to go back and make sure that the door was locked. That had him checking all of the rest of the doors and even the windows.

When he got to his room, he stripped down to his boxers before crawling between the sheets. He pulled the covers up to his chin and snuggled in before closing his eyes and letting his mind wander until he fell asleep.

—

It was five o’clock in the morning when Steve’s eyes flashed open. His heart was pounding as he worked on untangling himself from the sheets. Trapped. He felt trapped.

Somehow, he ended up on the floor with a solid thud that knocked the wind out of him. He was gasping, but at least he was free of the blanket that had him pinned in place before.

“F-fuck,” he groaned as the tears started to slide down his face.

He gave himself a few minutes before forcing himself to his feet and stumbling to the bathroom. Shower. He needed a shower. So that was exactly what he did.

One fifteen minute cold shower later, Steve was feeling more himself again. He dried off and got dressed before taking his time to make sure that his hair was perfect.

After all of that it was still too early to head to school, which meant that he found himself going to the kitchen and pulling out the ingredients to make some chocolate chip cookies. It was a safe choice. Everyone loved chocolate chips and there were no nuts in case someone had an allergy.

A double batch of cookies later, the phone was ringing.

“Hello?” Steve greeted, cradling the receiver between his ear and shoulder as he wiped his hands on the apron that he had put on before he started baking. He adjusted the phone onto his hand as he straightened up. “Hello?”

“Stevie!” His mother’s voice came across the line. “We’ll be home for a few weeks soon!”

“That’s great, mom. I can’t wait to hear about this adventure.” It was hard to sound excited.

All that complaining about an empty house and knowing his parents were coming back didn’t help. His mother would fuss for a day or two. His father would act like it hadn’t been months since they’ve seen each other. They’d probably even ignore him as usual, to be honest. His parents tended to think that making sure the bills were paid was more than enough. It wasn’t. Steve was done trying to convince them of that, though.

They talked for a few minutes, her words not really sinking in. Then he hung up and leaned against the wall, trying to convince himself to not cry. He took a deep breath and almost called Eddie before just hanging up the phone again and walking away from it.

Steve slid all of the cookies into a Tupperware container before grabbing his backpack and heading out to the car.

He was still going to be too early for school.

Which meant that he headed to the cemetery to clean a few headstones beforehand.

—

Steve was rolling through the motions, something that no one picked up on despite his reputation as King Steve. He was grateful for that.

His morning classes blurred together and then it was lunch time. He didn’t even have an excuse in mind when he walked over to Eddie’s table. If anyone told him anything, he ignored it. Instead, he set his bag down and unzipped it before pulling out the cookies and handing them to the older male who looked at him strangely.

“I didn’t poison them, Munson, jeez.”

Then he was zipping his bag back up and walking over to sit next to Tommy and Carol. Steve tried to focus, but he found himself looking toward the DND group a lot. Eddie was grinning as he wiped some cookie crumbs from his mouth.

Good.

The afternoon classes also passed in a blur, and then he found himself at the cemetery again.

It was a nice place to be, especially on a day like this. It was warm and sunny with a light breeze and some clouds in the sky. A crow was talking to him and he was talking back, saying things like “hello, my love” and “how is my pretty baby today” and “who should get their name back today, hmm?”

Eventually, he did find the headstone he wanted to clean. It was in a corner he hadn’t gotten to yet because of the beehive and swarms of the little stingy friends. Steve was allergic to bee stings, but he was calm and collected as he walked past them. He knelt down and gently brushed away what he could get with his hands before opening the bottle and splashing some water down. Then, he gently used the toothbrush to clean away dirt and moss.

Steve wasn’t sure how much time had passed, though he did look up when he saw a shadow. He was surprised to see Eddie looking down at him.

“Whatcha doing, Harrington?”

He leaned back so he was sitting on his feet and used the back of his hand to push his hair away from his face. There was no use trying to say that this was anything other than what it was.

“I like to give people their names back.” He shrugged. “It’s stupid, I know. But I think that they know they’re being remembered, or at least thought about, when someone can read their name.”

“It’s not stupid, Steve,” Eddie said softly before squatting down on the other side of the headstone.

They looked at each other for what felt like ages. It was probably only seconds. The older male pulled out his handkerchief and gently rubbed away enough that Steve could read the last name on the stone he decided to clean.

Munson.

“Who was she?” He asked softly.

“My aunt. Wayne’s wife.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I barely knew her. But sometimes I come out here because he can’t. And she deserves to be remembered.”

Steve felt like he was seeing Eddie in an all new light. He didn’t want to make the other male think about it too much. Besides, it seemed like he wanted to change the subject.

“I, uh… I come out here almost everyday. Clean different headstones based on who I feel could use it the most that day. I talk to the crows, too. Sometimes I let them pick for me.” He was blushing again.

“Did you bake those cookies?”

Steve was the one grateful for the subject change this time.

“Yeah. This morning. I realized how good of a deal you gave me last night and I just… wanted to thank you.”

“They were amazing.”

“Thank you. That recipe is the only thing I got from my grandma before she passed. She did make me promise to not tell anyone the secret ingredient, though.”

“Was it crack? It tasted like crack. I couldn’t stop eating them.”

Steve laughed at that before pushing himself to his feet and offering Eddie his hand.

“You caught me. I have a huge supply of crack for baking purposes.”

Eddie snorted. “I knew it.”

They released hands and Steve had a feeling that it was reluctantly on both sides, not just his.

“I’m glad you found me.”

“Yeah?” Eddie seemed surprised.

“Yeah. I’m actually highly allergic to bee stings and I might have needed some help with the epi-pen if one got me.”

They both laughed at that, though Steve did notice that he was being guided away from the stingy friends after that. The hand on the small of his back felt like friendship, though he’d never say it.

Once they were far enough from the bees that the older male stopped feeling the need to keep them walking, Steve met his gaze.

“What about your reputation?” He joked.

“What about it? Just because I don’t hang out with jocks doesn’t mean that I’m going to let one die because they wanted to give my aunt her name back.”

“I think you might have a soft spot for me,” Steve joked.

“Yeah,” Eddie murmured while glancing at Steve’s lips. Their eyes met again. “Maybe I do.”

Let me know if I should do a part two.

[starberry-cupcake]

Me reading this book is like trying to pin things to a cork board with red thread but the things I'm trying to pin down are fog and they vanish before I can grasp them.

Here's a visual representation of me finishing a chapter:

previously, in harrowbeenie the ninth:

this happened

currently, after chapter 5 (you're gonna have to be patient with this one):

we're moving back and forth between the second and third person

knowing now the content of the letters that yandere twin had talked about in the prologue, it makes some sense

but we aren't there yet

I need to point out something I don't think I specified enough last time

ice cube barbie changed eyes

people be changin' eyes here

she used to have eyes like harrow and now she has, and I quote: "ever since you had writhed in Lyctoral agony, her eyes had turned a yellow that made you dizzy to behold: a bronzed, hot, animal yellow, as amber as the inside of an egg"

this is from gideon's last ch.: "Gideon's eyes, as they always did, startled her: their deep, chromatic amber, the startling hot gold of freshly-brewed tea"

just gonna leave that there

but now, moving forward...or backwards to ch. 3 flashback of sorts

we got a recap of most of the events we knew, but in a gideon-less ver.

I'm gonna also point out that harrowbean mentions her mother holding her wrist the same way she said ice cube barbie did when they were in the coffin hangar

another addition to the clown emperor's story is that the Resurrection is described in harrow's memories as "ten thousand years ago had given them all release from death that none of them had deserved"

I don't know about any of this

we've got a disturbance in the force when harrow describes her parents finding out about the tomb thing

it says "her parents had...found out...about what she had done"

interesting edit of the story there

there's a gideon-sized hole in this story

there's also an interesting new count of nooses??

she says they tied five, two for mortus (???) but in gideon's book she said they tied their own nooses and then helped her tie hers, what's up with mortus having two??? is this nothing and I'm just obsessing about every detail???

I'm gonna start seeing palmolive's force ghost roaming around my house

at the end of ch. 3 it says "there had been another girl who grew up alongside Harrow—but she had died before Harrow was born"

this is a VERY INTERESTING wording

if someone dies before you are born, they can't grow up with you

UNLESS

I'm not gonna dwell on that yet

let's put a pin on that

ch. 4 has the re-apparition of yandere twin

*live studio audience cheers, maybe*

she gives her a letter addressed to her from her

the letter has a lot of instructions of things she doesn't remember at all and also are supposed to be opened at specific times/events

one of them says "in the event of the emperor's death"

another says it's in case she sees regina george twin, which makes a whole argument happen and knives are used to settle it

yandere twin will not hear someone imply her sister might be no longer with us

she probably isn't dead, this I know for certain, people wouldn't be confusing my names for them if that was all we got from her

the most important letter, though, is the one in case she sees camilla, who harrow claims not having interacted with ever

this is a very important thing to note, but most importantly, CAMILLA MENTION

very important to be noting who harrow remembers interacting with and who she doesn't

very important as well that she remembers yandere twin losing an arm in battle but does not remember gideon or camilla

I haven't mentioned it yet but, in the letter, past!harrow tells present!harrow that she needs to check yandere twin's tongue and lower mandibule

to which I think to myself "I bet she's gonna kiss her"

and that she did

which makes me want an edition of this book but with gideon commentary

like a dvd commentary but it's gideon commenting on all this stuff

and cracking jokes

because I bet she'd be cracking jokes about this

remember when she joked that yandere twin would marry mayonnaise uncle?

and then both harrow and mayonnaise uncle were like "ew the third's magic is weird"

imagine if she saw this display

another CRUCIAL thing is that harrow is doing like an oath to yandere twin as requested by past!harrow

and she says "by the ripped and remade soul of ortus nigenad"

and yandere twin goes "who? oh, yes—the cavalier"

I mean, mood at not remembering the names, but also SUSPICIOUS BEHAVIOR

she also tells present!harrow "I gave you something you cared about very deeply at the time"

side note, there is yet another moment in which chad is read for filth

get obliterated even in undeath, chad

last detail from this chapter is that harrowbean almost gets assassinated

maybe I should have started with that

at this point there's so much going on, death seems like a normal one

so yeah, she's gonna get killed with a pillow to the face and then she defends herself and discovers at the end of the chapter that she didn't hallucinate the whole thing and it was hidden from her on purpose that somebody tried to end her

so what's the point in being in this clown death star and surviving big brother canaan house if you can't even sleep peacefully???

moving on to chapter 5

remember the timeline I was making?

yeah, about that

chapter 5, in the third person continuity, establishes that what I saw previously was not necessarily a memory but an au memory

if we can call it something at this point

so my calculations were made as if the timeline was one

but this is not one timeline, it's a sort of parallel gideon-less one

of course my heart is making me believe the gideon-less one is the one that isn't real

and that past!harrow might know what's going on with that

maybe gideon's existence needs to be protected

maybe the emperor doesn't have to know about her

(I'm still holding on to the gideon hope, leave me alone)

but, in any case, present!harrow doesn't know

let's remember the prologue begun with harrow doing something she shouldn't and yandere twin saying something like "was there something in those letters I don't know about?"

I'm just gonna have to throw my timeline in the trash and start over with multiple timelines for now

ALSO, I didn't say anything about it yet, but it's mentioned that harrow is "in love" with ice cube barbie

take that as you will

which is another joke gideon has made in the past and would be stellar in a commentary of this

and, talking about things gideon would be awesome at commenting

in the new ortus-inclusive (?) narrative, ortus is talking about the epic of Matthias Nonius, who we know because harrow has compared gideon to him in the past

and also there's is a comment made about how ortus looks down on people who read "prurient magazines or pamphlets"

I really need gideon confessionals commentary over here

she also says that "the ninth house character, she was forced to admit, had always been low on wild and confident fucks"

yeah, well, how about that

and we end with THE FLIMSY

lots of important flimsies in this

she finds a note that reads "THE EGGS YOU GAVE ME ALL DIED AND YOU LIED TO ME"

ortus says he can't read it

but, in any case,

that made me stop in my tracks because I was reminded I forgot about the writing on the walls of canaan house?????

I filed it under canaan house weirdness but then, it was never talked about?????? again????

also the paper gideon found with her name

which I assumed was addressing the other gideon that not!dulcinea mentioned knowing

but who tf knows at this point

who knows what time and space are anymore

time to leave it for today...this is getting wild, you guys

[loupy-mongoose]

Warning: This part contains discussion of Pokemon abuse and neglect, as well as the general topic of death.

Edit: I didn't realize when I posted that this part is kinda long, so I'mma slap a Read More on it.

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

Lavender stared in shock at the man who'd approached her.

It was him.

The man she'd seen in the articles online.

The man she'd seen in Nico's dream vision.

Fuji...

The man tilted his head a bit. Ah, so you've heard of me. I'm guessing you've read about the orphanage online?

I, uh...

Lav had no idea how she would begin speaking to him, let alone broach the subject that drove her to this moment.

I... I...

She hugged herself, shivering. Her mind and emotions were spent.

Fuji's concerned look grew deeper. Easy, there. Easy. What's troubling you? Maybe we can work it out.

She could feel his genuine concern for her wash off of him, and her own loneliness and regret crashed over her. She asked him in a timid, shaky voice, can I have a hug?

His eyebrow rose, but he smiled warmly at her. Of course! If it'll help!

She charged into his arms almost before he could open them wide enough. Oh how she missed this feeling of being safe in a pair of arms...

So what's got you so upset? Or is it something too personal to tell a stranger like myself?

Uh...

His voice lowered to just above a whisper. Your family isn't mistreating you, are they? I can help get you out if they are.

At that Lav pushed away from him, waving her arms. No no no no, nothing like that! I-I'm sad because I left them... And I wish I hadn't... I came here looking for someone, but... She wiped her eyes for the hundredth time since she'd taken off. It was a rash decision and I wish I could go back...

I can help with that too. Fuji smiled again. Where do they live? I'll do what I can to get you back to them!

Lav gripped at her elbows, biting her lower lip. Should I tell him? How much would it give away...?

How much will I need to give away...?

She took a quiet breath and answered. Paldea.

Paldea... He became thoughtful. That's a long ways away from here... You came here on your own?

Lav nodded, rocking slightly back and forth. All the warnings she'd heard from her parents flashed through her mind, almost making her feel sick again.

Finally she gripped her jacket sleeves and took a deep breath. Listen, Mr. Fuji, there's something I wanted to talk to you about. But... not in the open.

The gentle man lowered his brows questioningly.

I-I know that sounds weird... But... C-can we go to your house? And talk in private?

Fuji's face creased in confusion, but he shrugged. Alright. I'm all ears. Maybe I can offer you a drink to calm your nerves? Coffee, tea, hot coco?

Lav smiled widely at the sound of that. Ooo, yes please! Hot chocolate! Please!

Fuji chuckled as he turned to go and motioned for her to follow. A sweet tooth, huh? No problem!

Hey, I never got your name.

She gave a shy laugh, well recognizing how this might sound to him. It's, uh... Lavender, actually. Lavender Linden.

Hah!! Oh dear, it might be a little hard for my old brain to remember that one. His voice oozed with joyful sarcasm, and Lav felt herself warming up to him.

You can call me Lav if it's too much for you~

Lav. That sounds lovely. He chuckled softly. It's nice to meet you, Lav.

Lav smiled, finally feeling a sense of comfort for the first time since leaving home.

It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Fuji.

The pink Mew carefully peered down into the cliffs surrounding the purple-hued town. It was too far away to make out distinct people. But where his eyes failed him, his senses gave him hope.

I feel her.

He looked at Akoya. They're eyes passed the message without use of words or mind. They flew down to discuss with Persim what the next step would be.

Oooooh, look at themmm!!

Lav looked into a pen containing several little land-dwelling Pokemon. Ratattas, Growlithes, Nidorans, and Mankeys, and others mingled together. Some were missing eyes and limbs.

So you take in orphaned Pokemon and take care of them?

Fuji smiled softly, but with a sad gleam in his eyes. Orphans, injured, sick... Trainers will often bring in Pokemon, either their own or ones that they've found in their travels. It's sad when they're mistreated, but I like to think we offer a little bit of hope and comfort for those in need.

Lav watched a few Ratattas running together, including a dark colored one that had a set of wheels attached to its back legs. She pointed to it. What happened to the Alolan one there?

A Karate Chop went too far. HP shields will only protect so much. Fuji sighed. Her trainer pushed her to fight beyond her limits--against a Machop, no less--and she paid the price. And of course her trainer left her for dead because she couldn't fight anymore.

A lot of the Pokemon in our care have similar stories. I swear, trainers who don't bother learning type matchups drive me up a wall! Just because they're protected from elemental attacks doesn't mean the protection lasts or is perfect every time! And when the shields fail, it can fail spectacularly.

Lav thought about her dad's journey as a trainer through Sinnoh, as well as her own dream of doing her own journey. She had to venture a question. D... Do you feel that way about all trainers?

Absolutely not. There are plenty of good trainers out there, and I adore them. I want to support those ones however I can! And of course trainers will make mistakes. Sometimes mistakes that will cost a life, unfortunately... As long as there are Pokemon trainers, that will continue to happen. But that alone doesn't make one a bad trainer.

And the sad thing is, it's those trainers who suffer most from their mistakes. The ones who throw away the dead or injured, they move on to the next victim with nary a backward glance. But when a loving trainer loses...

He sighed again, leaning on the fence. It's heartbreaking, really. All the trainers who feel like they failed because of their losses, when in reality those are the best of the best. They don't realize that in taking a path of love, they've taken the hard path. Grief is the price we pay for love, after all, and sometimes in can bankrupt trainers...

Suddenly he leaned back. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to get sad on you! I see both ends of it, so I have trouble keeping them apart sometimes. I hope you can forgive my morbid rambling...

Of course. Lav smiled morosely. ...I can tell you pay that price a lot...

Fuji met her eyes with warmth. Yeah... Yeah. It's not always an easy job... But it is my greatest love. And grief is a price I'm willing to pay for it.

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

This makes me want to do a Nuzlocke. XD

[vide0-nasties]

Going to be rambling insanely about Ghost and probably what his feelings on the monarchy would be, coming from one deeply damaged povo to another.

Anyway, specifically around the time the parasite in chief in her idiot hat (thanks Eccleston lub u) died and passed said idiot hat on, I was seeing a lot of (fun and gentle-ribbing, mind you!) posts about Ghost getting razzed about the queen croaking and maybe him being sad about it or something - I don’t really remember bc I have shit for brains and I just latch onto what bits my adhd will allow.

SO. I really don’t think Bruv Innit gave two shits about Liz buying the farm, bc he grew up working class in a working class town to a drug addicted, drug peddling dad, and a fairly nondescript mom who likely didn’t have a way to get her and her kids out of that shit situation (per ‘09 MW lore and some presumption). I imagine dude was dragged around a shitload of council estates and his dad’s friends’ shitty crash pads, no stability whatsoever, where food insecurity was a big ass forever-looming deal, mom had no idea if her 20 year old vauxhall was going to make it another trip to her minimum wage part time job, and school was forever on the back burner bc when it came to school supplies/trips vs eating and keeping the lights on. You can guess which one won.

If we’re also going with him being about 35-40ish, he would’ve been 10-12ish or so around Diana’s divorce and then her death. So, here’s this starving, horrendously abused kid, with his starving, horrendously abused mother and little brother, drowning in a system that is pretty much just letting them sink to the bottom, nothing is being done about the evil sperm donor that ruins everything for them, and he’s obliterated constantly by TV coverage and tabloids and radio DJs talking about this goddamned family’s stupid fucking drama. Charles cheated, Diana left, her poor boys in their fancy private schools with their endless wealth and glowing skin and brand new clothes that don’t stink of consignment shops are sad.

Sorrows - sorrows, prayers. 🫶

It’s a story he’s seen countless times, the only difference is money and coverage. And, realistically, the women in the stories he knows aren’t killed in car wrecks, they’re killed by their infuriated husbands who think they’re owed something catching up. Maybe that’s why his mom doesn’t leave the cocksucker that trapped her, she could’ve ended up another council house Diana that no one gave a shit about.

He grows up, becomes a butcher���s apprentice, joins the army. Straightens his brother out, makes sure his mom is set up nice, finally beats the shit out of his dad. And all the while, there looms the most fucking pointless, parasitic family in England: living off taxes taken from the public, god knows how much land and how many castles, even owning all the fucking swans on the island.

Relics, vampires, leeches.

But, you know, twenty years down the road, he’s pushing 40, his services to the country are done in the dark, the family he tried so badly to save were brutally cut down anyway, and when he goes to Tesco, the price of a fifth of piss Smirnoff is insane, and he’s still got Soap swimming in his head mid-rant bc his mam’s fucking knee replacement appeal has been denied for the third time and she can’t even walk anymore, Gaz is moving for the second time in a year bc he just can’t afford to live close to his parents even on his salary, meanwhile there was a stretch where it looked like Philip was surviving solely by being pumped full of virgin blood and straight stem cells.

So, yeah, if anything he probably said cheers when the news broke and cracked a couple extra jokes that day.

“What d’you call one dead Windsor? A good start.”

Edit: This is picking up some traction. @50cal-fullauto-astarion is my CoD blog if you like my Call of Bullshit stuff, this is my main and I don’t really go into CoD here

[chiefduckgarden]

The other woman

Wanda Maximoff x Williams!Reader

Natasha Romanoff x Williams!Reader

Royal AU

Angst - Cheating - Forced Marriage - If you love Natasha don't read this. (really)

Summary:

W: Young people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes.

N: You can think that you're in love when you're really just engaged.

A/N: Reader's last name is Williams, it's easier to write this way. This has been in my drafts for months lol. I saw a Tik Tok edit of the Corpse Bride and thought of this. Still not sure about how it turned out though.

- Stop being so silly Y/N, you know I will miss you just as much as you're going to miss me - Wanda said smiling, her head resting on your chest while one of your hands rubbed her back up and down.

- I know, I just wish I could stay here with you, I don't care about this stupid trip, I'd rather be here for your birthday, for that giant celebration your father is planning - you said, looking down into her eyes.

- You've been here for each and every one of my birthdays since we were 12, nothing will happen if you miss this one, even if it's "especial", I understand you have to go with your parents - she replied.

You huffed.

- I don't even know why I have to go in the first place, they have always gone by themselves, I don't know why I'm required this time - you explained - And I don't like it either, they're up to something, I can feel it.

She cupped your cheek and pecked your lips.

- You're their only daughter, their only Princess, the only heir for their kingdom, maybe they want to give you more responsibilities from now on... You're gonna be Queen someday, it's time you get prepared for it...

- I've been preparing for it my whole life - you sighed - But you're right, maybe it's time for me to take it seriously.

You stared at her and smiled.

- And maybe I can talk to them in this trip about us - you said, and her eyes sparkled with illusion at your words - I'll tell them I'm marrying you, and we'll plan the proposal for when we get back.

- Are you serious my love? Will you ask my hand in marriage? - she asked happily.

- Of course I will, I want to spend the rest of my life by your side.

She kissed you and you smiled.

- Also, I have to beat that Jarvis Prince - you said - I've heard the rumors, but if I ask you first and you accept me, there will not be any reason for us to not get married.

- Your royal highness, it's time to leave, the King asked for your presence - you heard a voice calling for you.

- On my way - you replied.

- Come back to me my love, and have fun in your trip - Wanda said, kissing you one last time.

- I'll be back in no time, and then, it'll be just us, for eternity my lady.

- For eternity Y/N... - she replied.

------------

4 months later.

The King and the Queen of Williams Kingdom are happy to announce the engagement of their heir, Princess Y/N, with the noble Princess Natasha Romanoff.

The Royal Family announced the happy news during their stay in the Romanoff Kingdom.

This makes young Romanoff the future Queen to the rightful heir to the throne of Williams House. The union of this two families represents one of the most important alliances in the last decades, the two kingdoms will surely benefit from this marriage.

It seems like love has been in the air from some time now, let's remember just a month ago the Maximoff family announced the marriage of their youngest daughter Princess Wanda and the future King Vision Jarvis, on her 18th birthday celebration.

Good luck to these new happy couples and the best of luck for all of them.

--------

- Don't act like you didn't knew about it! You fooled me! - you screamed in exasperation pacing around the room with the newsletter in your hand.

- We didn't knew Maximoff would get the girl married so early, but yes, there's no reason to lie, we knew about the wedding - your father told you.

- It was all planned, wasn't it? This trip, meeting Natasha, Wanda's birthday celebration - you mentioned harshly - You played with us like we were chess pieces, you decided our lives without asking us anything...

- There was nothing to ask, your little teenage romance with Wanda was senseless, she was promised to Jarvis even before they were born... And you, we waited for the right girl to come to your life, for the perfect Queen for you to love... And that is Natasha...

- YOU DON'T GET TO DECIDE THAT! THAT WAS MY CHOICE! - you screamed, you couldn't handle listen to him anymore.

- Well it's not! I am the King and I know what's best for you and for the kingdom! And as long as this crown is perched on my head you will obey each and every one of my orders, especially those orders that relate to the future of my legacy!

You took a step back, not believing what your father was saying.

- You're gonna marry Natasha Romanoff and get the biggest alliance in the history of our family and that's a direct order, not from your father, but from your King!

That was it. Those last words made you understand that, whatever you had left to say would be pointless. The King made a decision, and there was no turning back.

You lowered you head, and nodded.

- Yes, your Majesty.

Holding back the tears from your breaking heart you had the courage to ask for one more thing.

- Tell Natasha I'll meet her in our residence back at home, I need to travel now to talk with Wanda about this decision and finish everything in the best way possible. We're still friends, and for the sake of our friendship with the Maximoff House it would be wise to keep our alliance with them.

Your father took a few seconds to process your request but finally nodded.

- That's okay, you can go now.

Bowing down once more you left the room with tears already falling down your face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stopping your horse right in front of the small cabin placed in the middle of the woods your heart was pounding like crazy. When you made it inside and saw those beautiful green eyes it finally explode in love.

- Y/N! My love - she said the moment you walked in, running into your arms.

You hugged her immediately and both of you melted in a heated passion kiss after all those months separated.

- My lady... My Wanda... How you've been my love? I know life must have been hell for you just as it's been for me - you said, with your arms still around the girl.

- Oh you have no idea... They made me marry Vision the same day of my birthday, without warning. When I told my father it was you the one I loved he told me I was crazy - she started to cry - He said it was ridiculous because you were already engaged to another woman, promised to someone else. It broke my heart because I realized we had fallen in their trap my love, they made the choices for us.

- I know, I realized that too, and when I confront my father about it... - you gulped at the memory - He yelled at me like never before and command me to get marry, not as my father, but as my king.

Wanda whipped away a tear that was rolling down your cheek.

- I didn't know they were gonna announce an engagement until the day before. They gave me no choice - you said, now both of you were sitting in the edge of the bed.

- Is Natasha aware of your your displeasure? - she asked.

You shook your head.

- No, I don't think so, she was very excited when they announced the engagement... She thinks it's all genuine.

- Vision thinks as well, he thinks I want him... Even though I have refused to sleep with him...

You looked at her worried. Heartbroken. Not even you had dare to touch her in a passionate way.

- What are we going to do my love? They took everything from us, even our freedom...

She sighed.

- I don't know... I'm just sure I don't want us to end, we are soul mates Y/N, you are the love of my life... I don't care if you're married to someone else as long as I know I'm the only one for you... Because you're the only one for me...

- Wanda, in my world there's only you and then the rest of the people. I don't care about Vision or Natasha, we love each other and that is all that matters...

- But how are we going to make this work? They can get suspicious...

- We were best friends before this ridiculous circus started, and it doesn't have to change now... We just have to be careful on how we act... - you paused for a few seconds to cup her face - Although I don't think i could ever hide this love I feel for you, it's very intense...

She smiled at your words.

- Me neither, but we'll try our best... - she looked around the little comfy cabin you were in - And also, we will always have this place for us, only you and I know about it, it will keep our secret safe.

You nodded and kissed her. It became heated every second, until she was sitting on your lap and your arms were around her waist, holding her close to your body.

- Wanda... - you said in a whisper between kisses - We need to stop, or either way I will...

- Do it - she said looking straight into your eyes, her green big eyes now full of desire - Take me Y/N, make me yours, i want you to be my first...

You looked at her, the knot on your lower stomach increasing.

- Are you sure?

She didn't respond, with her lower lip trapped between her teeth she grabbed your hand and guided your palm to her breast. You squeezed it, causing her to moan.

- God... - you whispered.

With a quick flip you turned the position, now she was laid on the bed, with you on top.

- Make love to me, darling - she said.

That night, your affair got sealed with the intertwine of your bodies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- And this is the main room, it's spacious and comfortable for the two of us - you said to Natasha, showing your future bedroom - The right room it's for me, and the left side is yours Princess Natasha, and we have the common space room right in the middle.

Natasha nodded but frowned.

- Why do we have separate beds? I thought we were sharing the same bedroom...

You smiled shaking your head.

- Oh no, we'll have the same room but I would feel more comfortable with my own space - you said walking into your side - But feel free to redecorate the whole room, change whatever you like, even my side, just leave my closet as it is right now.

She followed you confused.

- Where are you going? - she asked - We have my parents' farewell dinner tonight, tomorrow they'll go home.

- I know, I will go play tennis with Princess Wanda and then I'll meet you at the dinner - you said, walking into your closet to change your clothes.

- Princess Wanda? Again? You went out with her last week.

- Yes, you know she's my best friend, we both play tennis every week, it's our favorite sport - you said.

Natasha nodded. She didn't understand the reason behind your distance, at first she thought it was because you didn't know her before your visit at her kingdom, but now, after spending some weeks with you and failed tries on bonding with you she was very confused.

- I'll see you later - you said, walking out from your closet and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

- Okay - she answered.

She spent the rest of the evening choosing the colors, the carpets and selecting fabrics for your new room. She was loving the result, but wishing you were there to help her out.

- Do you think Princess Y/N will like this color for her bed? - she asked her maid, showing her the color tone she had choose.

- Oh it's beautiful, she will love it - the woman answered.

Natasha smiled, really hoping you will like it.

- You've known the princess since she was a kid, right? - Romanoff asked the woman again.

- Yes, I've been working for the Royal Family since 15 years ago...

Natasha kept silent for some second before asking again.

- Do you know how close is Princess Y/N with Princess Wanda Maximoff? I know they're best friends but I'm just curious about their friendship...

- Oh they are very very close, they grew up together and used to make everything side by side... They had the same private tutors, a lot of sleepovers, they both love tennis...

Natasha nodded, not wanting to listen more, but the woman kept talking.

- Princess Y/N used to write a lot of letters for Princess Wanda, every week, and Princess Wanda wrote for her too, the letters should be somewhere in here, she keeps them very well preserved... They're very special for each other - the woman smiled at the memory.

Nat cleared her throat and left the fabrics on the bed.

- It's time for me to get ready for dinner, please take all this out of the room and bring the dress.

- Yes your royal highness - the woman said, following the instructions.

Once alone, Natasha made some deep thinking. She didn't want to create false scenarios in her head, but since she met you, you had done nothing but talk about Wanda and spend time with her.

But she didn't had the time to over think because you stepped in the room in that moment. The happiness in your face could be notice from a thousand miles away.

- Natasha? I thought you would be on your way to dinner already... - you said.

- Oh I lost track of time with the decorations and everything, my dress will be here in any minute - she answered, and you nodded - Also, I think our parents will expect to see us coming in together...

You sighed and walked into your side of the room.

- Yes, I think you're right, I'm gonna take a bath and get ready - you said.

Before you could leave she asked.

- How was tennis with Princess Wanda? I can see you're really happy.

You froze for a second but then raised your head with a small smile.

- Yes, it was really funny... It's always funny.

You started walked again but she stopped your tracks once more, making you tense immediately with her next words.

- Maybe you can teach me, I'll go with you next time.

You didn't say anything, just slightly nodded your head and walked out.

Natasha was afraid that maybe she was trying to force herself into your daily activities, she didn't want bother you in any way, or make you upset with her.

But when you meet her again in the car that night, suddenly your behavior towards her changed dramatically.

You treated her kind and lovely the whole night. For the first time she felt like she was your fiancé and not just some random stranger that came into your life.

But the fairytale broke down the moment you stepped into your house. You only said goodnight to her and leave to go to your bed.

She wondered what she could've possibly done to make you upset again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the next weeks you kept your distance for her like before, only talking to her when it was necessary. And she was starting to get pissed.

- I just want to know what can I do to make you feel closer to me... I've been trying for weeks to connect with you but nothing ever change. Just tell me what's wrong, so we can fix it.

You've been arguing for the last twenty minutes, you told her you'd go to play tennis and she started to yell at you.

- There's nothing to fix, because nothing is wrong Natasha... I just have a hard time to open myself with new people...

- But I'm not new people, I'm your fiancé, we're gonna get married Y/N, let's start acting like a couple for once.

You sighed. Tired.

- What do you want me to do? I just don't feel comfortable yet...

- Oh but you're not even trying, everyday you find something to get yourself busy with, and your spare time goes all in tennis and Princess Wanda... When will you have time for me?

You heart stopped. How dare she to even pronounce Wanda's name.

- Wanda has nothing to do with this - you said, almost in a whisper.

- I know, I'm not blaming her for anything, I'm blaming you...

You were about to say something when the butler knocked the door.

- Excuse me ma'am, Princess Wanda Maximoff is here for the tennis practice, she's waiting for you in the main hall.

You fixed your messy clothes and answered.

- Thanks, tell her I'll be with her in a minute.

- Yes your royal highness.

The butler left, leaving you and Natasha alone again.

- I need to go - you said, without looking at her.

- I know - she contained the tears - Just leave, I also need to go, I'm having tea with your mother later.

You nodded and walked out, with her following you some steps behind.

When you made it to the first floor your bad mood changed completely at the sight of your lover.

- Wanda, it's so nice to see you! Ready for tennis? - you asked, kissing her right hand and cheeks.

- Yes, let's go! - she replied.

When two guards followed you she quickly stopped them.

- Oh we're taking the horses, no need for security, just two best friends riding and playing... The Princess and I will be fine.

- Yes, don't worry, I'll be back in a few hours - you completed.

- Of course ma'am - your guards nodded.

Natasha saw the whole interaction, her eyes burning in jealousy. She knew Wanda was your best friend, but her instincts were screaming her something was off. She decided to ask your mother that afternoon.

--------------------------

- Oh dear lord! - Wanda screamed in pure bliss, three of your fingers buried deep inside her intimacy, you leaving small kisses all along her jaw and neck.

- Go on my lady, let me see you reach euphoria once more...

- Yeah... - she panted - Take me to heaven again Y/N, just keep doing that...

Your moans were hidden by the walls of the small cabin.

- Y/N... I'm gonna...

You felt her orgasm crash on your fingers, her wetness dripping down your hands and rolling down her thighs.

- Wanda... - you panted, taking the three fingers to your mouth - Oh God... - you moaned - You're so magical...

She smiled at you, wasting no time and kissing you as deep as she could, tasting herself in your mouth.

A few moments later you were both tangled in each other's arms, resting after your love making evening.

- Oh how I wish I could wake up every day inside your arms - she said with her head resting on your chest.

- I know, I would make love to you every morning and every night... I would take care of your sleep, watch you fall asleep into my arms, giving a goodnight kiss in the forehead...

A tear rolled down her face.

- We would be happy...

You nodded.

- Yes... So happy.

She stared at you for some seconds before speaking again.

- Are you happy? - she asked.

- What do you mean? You know I'm not - you answered, confused.

- I know, but you have a wife, Princess Natasha is beautiful... Have you bonded with her already?

You denied, shaking your head.

- Not really, I spend all my time doing my duties and my spare time I spend it with you...

She smiled sheepishly.

- Has she notice your absence?

You sighed.

- Yeah, just this morning before you came we were arguing about it... She wants me to spend more time with her...

- Same with Vision - she said - He wants me to go with him in this trip he's having next month... I don't think I'll can refuse

You blink confused.

- Does that mean I will not see you? For how long?

Your heart shredded.

- Three weeks...

- Oh...

She immediately sensed your mood change.

- But I will came back to you... Like always.

- I know... I trust you, I don't trust Vision though...

- Don't worry, no matter what happens I will always be yours.

- I'll always be yours too.

- Take this time to be with Natasha, calm her down and win her trust, it's your wife after all.

You sighed and nodded.

- I'll do whatever you ask me to... - you said kissing her hand.

She fell silent for a few moments. You turned to look at her and saw in her expression what was happening. She was thinking… processing something.

- What's wrong, my love? - you asked - What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?

She looked into your eyes, gazing at you for a moment before speaking.

- I want you to marry Natasha during my absence… I need you to seal your commitment to her while I'm not here. If I'm not present, I won't have to attend to the wedding, and I won't have to endure the pain of seeing you marry someone else… If you don't do it within those weeks, I'll be forced to attend your wedding, and I… I don't think I can bear it, Y/N… I won't be able to.

She was right. Due to your trip to the Romanoff realm, you didn't have to be present at Wanda's sudden wedding. You didn't have to go through the pain of seeing her standing at the altar with someone else. It wouldn't be fair to her to see you with Natasha.

You nodded and kissed her forehead. Both of you were crying, and you held her hand.

- I promise I will - you said - For you, Wanda. I just want you to know that even if it's Natasha to whom I vow love and eternal devotion at the altar, my words and my heart will always belong to you and only you.

That evening, you returned home with a heavy heart. But to your misfortune, the tragedies wouldn't stop that day. As soon as you passed through the grand and elegant door adorning your entrance, you saw your father's guards waiting. That only meant he was visiting, and that couldn't be good.

- Your Royal Highness - a man bowed before you - Your Majesty, King Williams is in the main study waiting for you.

You surveyed your surroundings before responding. Everything was in overwhelming silence. You looked for your butler and inquired - Is Princess Natasha at home?

- No, Your Highness, Princess Natasha is still visiting the royal palace with the queen, your mother," he responded.

You took a deep breath - I see - you cleared your throat - I will speak with my father right away. If the princess returns home, please notify me immediately. It is of the utmost importance that I speak with her.

You turned and made your way to the study. With every step you took, you could feel your heart beating stronger. You knew what was coming. As soon as you crossed that door, your father would reproach you for not paying enough attention to Natasha. You were nervous about the reprimand, but it was somewhat reassuring to know that this time you had an answer to his accusations.

- Your Majesty - you spoke, but he didn't look at you - To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Father? - You walked over and took a seat across from him. It was only then that you noticed his cold gaze.

- I'm afraid my visit won't bring you any pleasure, Y/N - he said - Your wife paid a visit today to your mother; they had tea together.

- I'm aware of that, Natasha mentioned it this morning - you said, trying to sound confident.

- My question here is, where were you? - he asked.

- I played tennis with Princess Wanda most of the afternoon, and we went riding for a while. I lost track of time between the game and our conversation... - you explained but your father interrupted you.

- Natasha told us where you were… She also mentioned some more interesting things about those little escapades of yours with Princess Wanda… I didn't like what I heard at all, Y/N - he said.

- Father, Wanda and I…- you began, but he interrupted.

- Wanda and you are no more, it ended the moment she got married and you became engaged - he shouted - Don't you understand? Natasha suspects you and Wanda, she has doubts about her marriage, this is very serious, Y/N. It could trigger political problems and destabilize our marriage agreements with her kingdom. As the heir to this realm, you have a responsibility to your people and to me. I cannot allow your actions to jeopardize our political stability. It's important that you maintain a strong relationship with Natasha and avoid any suspicion about your relationship with Wanda.

- There is nothing between Wanda and me, Father… we had something in the past, as you well know, but now she is married. It hasn't been easy for me, but I believe it's time to stabilize the situation. Wanda will be going on a trip with Prince Jarvis, and today we discussed my wedding. She encouraged me to get married as soon as possible to reassure Natasha about our marriage… I want to have the wedding in two weeks - you explained.

- Is that so… - he looked at you, analyzing - Well, so be it. Let's not delay any further. As soon as I return to the palace, I will inform your mother about your decision, and we will proceed with the necessary preparations. There's no turning back from this.

- You may think you've appeased me with your sudden decision to marry, but you can't deceive me, Y/N. The matters you have with Wanda… put an end to them. I am giving you the opportunity to do it on your terms. Remember that you are the heir; you must find a way to balance your personal feelings with your responsibilities as the future queen. I don't want to take drastic measures, but if you can't control this situation, I will have to intervene… and then I assure you, you will never see Wanda again - he warned.

Your father left your home, and the next morning, the entire kingdom was aware of your wedding. Natasha was in total ecstasy. As soon as you informed her of the date, she kissed you fervently and headed to the palace to begin preparations for your wedding.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't muster a spark of excitement. You seemed like a walking corpse. But your father's threats echoed in your mind, and you forced yourself to be the perfect fiancée for Natasha. In front of people, you looked like the ideal couple, planning the dream wedding together. But deep inside, you were dying to leave it all behind and run into Wanda's arms.

After two weeks that felt like an eternity, the day finally arrived. You were just hours away from getting married. Natasha was getting ready at the palace with her mother, while you prepared in the privacy of your home.

In that intimate moment, you allowed yourself to write a letter to Wanda, letting your heart speak and conveying all your love and devotion for her. When you finished, you placed it in the pocket of your shirt, right over your heart, and prepared to leave. You would find a way to deliver it to her later.

The moment had come. The entire kingdom was waiting. Natasha, her parents, and your parents were all there. It seemed like the most meticulously planned event of the year, with nothing missing. But to you, everything was missing because even though you were about to get married, the love of your life was not there.

The ceremony had passed quickly. You felt like your soul had left your body, but it was your turn to speak.

- Dear Natasha...

Wanda, thousands of kilometers away, knew what was happening. Her heart ached at the thought of you becoming someone else's wife today. She only found peace in remembering your words, knowing that any promise you made to Natasha today would truly be for her.

- Today, before all the witnesses from our respective kingdoms, I make this sacred commitment. I promise to be loyal and faithful in body and spirit, and always honor the alliance we have forged, an alliance that in my heart is deeper than others may understand. On sunny days and in dark nights, I will stand by your side, fulfilling the duties entrusted to us. I promise to be your unwavering support, your confidante, and your closest friend, even when our differences challenge us. Though our paths may seem divergent, in my heart, you will always be present. May our souls find solace in this commitment, and may our union, despite the hardships, shine as a beacon of hope in this realm. May the love I have for you, though I may not openly name it, guide my actions and thoughts as we fulfill our destiny. May our marriage, though not the one we would have chosen, be a source of strength and wisdom for us both. So I promise, with all the sincerity and respect you deserve.

Natasha smiled. You both kissed. Wanda cried. You cried. You touched your chest, where Wanda's letter resided, and smiled despite the tears.

When the wedding was over and you and Natasha were back home, you couldn't make love to her. You touched her, yes. She felt loved, yes. But you didn't feel anything. Your body belonged to Wanda. You didn't let Natasha touch you. As soon as it was over, you headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

Natasha, savoring the last moments of innocence, believing that you were completely hers, took your shirt in her hands to smell your perfume once more. She loved your scent. But as she brought the garment to her nose, she felt the stiffness of paper in her hands. Curiously, she took the letter from the pocket, and in a matter of seconds, everything fell apart.

There, in her hands, was the proof of your eternal love for Wanda. A letter, written a couple of hours ago, before joining your life with hers, where you professed your eternal devotion to another woman.

My Wanda:

As I write these words, my heart is filled with a love that cannot be contained or constrained by the circumstances surrounding us. In the dark hours leading up to my forced marriage, I want you to know that my love and devotion belong to you, and you alone.

Although the world has forced us down different paths, and we are destined to marry others, I want you to know that my heart will always be yours. Our love is a fire that burns deep within me, a fire that no arranged marriage can extinguish.

Every moment we share, every stolen glance, every whispered word in secret, is a treasure in my memory that I hold dear with all my being. You are the light that brightens my life, the reason I smile amidst the darkness of our situation.

Though words cannot fully express the magnitude of what I feel for you, I want you to know that I am willing to face whatever is necessary to protect our love, even if it means sacrificing some of my own happiness. I am bound by word and paper, but my body, mind, soul, and heart will always belong to you.

No matter what the future holds for us, rest assured that you will always be my love, my confidante, and my deepest longing. Our love is a secret that only we share, a bond that no one can break.

When I stand at the altar, reciting my vows to someone I did not choose, rest assured that my heart will beat for you and only you, as I promised. I will keep our love in a special and safe place in my heart, dreaming of the future that was stolen from us, where we are together without restrictions.

With all my love and devotion, always yours.

Y/N.

There, Natasha knew it. There was no turning back. She had married someone who didn't love her. You weren't hers, and you never would be.

As soon as you emerged from the bathroom, you saw Natasha holding the letter in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. She knew.

- Natasha...

- You lied to me.

- No, I didn't lie to you… My father forced me… they separated us, Natasha.

- All this time, I've been a fool… and you! - she pointed at you, shouting, crying inconsolably - How could you deceive me like this?

- You don't understand, you never will. It was never my intention to hurt you, Natasha…

- You've betrayed me, Y/N… you married me while all this time you were thinking about your mistress - Natasha cried.

At that moment, you lost your temper. You would never let anyone speak of Wanda in such a way.

- Don't speak of her like that. Wanda is not to blame. Don't ever say her name again… never - you asserted.

She laughed bitterly, wiping the tears from her face - It is what it is, Y/N, nothing more than your mistress…

It was then that you shouted - Don't you understand? You are the other woman in all of this… she and I were happy, she's the love of my life. Until they forced us apart. Titles don't matter, Natasha. She will always be my priority. YOU ARE THE OTHER WOMAN.

- NO! You are married to me! She is the other woman - Natasha shouted back.

You ran your hand through your hair in desperation. You sat down on the bed with your hands on your face. Natasha was crying, standing.

- I don't love you, Natasha. My father forced me to marry you. The day I saw Wanda for the last time, she asked me to have the wedding as soon as possible. I only moved forward with the plans because she requested it. You must understand that there is no one else for me but her.

Natasha looked at you, heartbroken.

- My kingdom needs yours for its resources; our union is the largest and most important due to the size of your realm. On the other hand, you need my kingdom for our reserves, as long as you are married to me, there will be stability. This marriage benefits us all, and I need us to cooperate to provide the peace our people deserve.

You explained, and she knew it was true.

- The kingdom of Wanda is small; it didn't serve much purpose to unite us. Besides, her parents had promised her hand to Prince Jarvis since she was born. We had everything against us, Natasha. We still have everything against us - you said - I'm sorry that I can't be the partner you desire, but unfortunately, the story of my life was written long before I met you. I belong to Wanda, and Wanda belongs to me. You need me, and I need you. The union is done, but you must know that I can't love you as you desire, I never will.

By this point, Natasha was just sobbing. You got up from the bed and walked to your side of the room.

- We have breakfast with our families tomorrow. We must be at the palace at nine o'clock.

You left the room, and your body felt more relaxed. You wouldn't have to pretend anymore.

Time passed, and Wanda returned from her trip. As soon as she set foot on land, she ran to find you at the cabin. She tearfully told you that Jarvis had been with her. He wanted an heir. With desperation and desire, you claimed her body for hours.

Months later, when her son was born, Natasha and you visited the couple in their palace. Wanda smiled as she showed you the little one. He was so much like Wanda that you cried with emotion. In that small moment when you held little Tommy, and Wanda sang to him beside you, you allowed yourself to dream of what could have been. The future and happiness that were denied to you. For a brief moment, you pretended that this was your little family. And you cried. You cried for everything that was taken from you.

Natasha, who watched everything from afar, finally understood. Wanda and you loved each other and would love each other forever. She could never compete with her.

She was just another piece in the chessboard that life played. She couldn't do anything else but resign herself. In the end, no one was happy. Not her. Not you. Not Wanda. Everyone was miserable because of someone else's desires. But that's how life was, and like the others, she had to accept it.

[namazunomegami]

Atonement

Pairing: Geto Suguru x gn!reader

Synopsis: How can you cleanse yourself from the sin that has been tainting you since your attempt to escape? The answer is easy: walk on barefoot for him, suffer some misery, risk your health for him, open yourself up for him and you can earn his forgiveness.

CW: canon compliant, established relationship, toxic and complicated dynamics, religious symbolism, porn with feelings, Geto is a manipulative ass how surprising, gaslighting, m!receiving oral, fingering, non-consensual edging, good old unprotected sex + creampie

WC: 5.3k

Credits: my lovely @notveryrussian who worked so hard to get this fic proofreaded. Ngl they deserve all the praise and respect because we lost literal pages from the already edited draft because windows is crap and they had to start over again. Take one big break darl, you deserve it 💕

Song rec: mythical creature by pregnant whale pain was my main inspiration during writing but i think tumblr dot com is not ready yet to listen to an unknown hungarian avantgarde metal band while reading porn lmao. Maybe i'll drop the acoustic version later.

A/N: Here is part 1 in case if you missed it. I think you need to know what happened to completely understand the buildup and have a general idea about their relationship. This fic is probably my fave I’ve written so far, a special lil brainchild of mine. These two are living in my mind rent free with all their lore and they'll never let me go.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated 💕

Minors don't interact unless you want me to stand outside your house at 3 am with a pitchfork

It was very hard to explain to your family what happened to you. The worry which they approached you with, especially Mimiko and Nanako just stirred a weird sense of guilt in your chest. The twins even offered to help you out with chores, eagerly telling you to rest, let your body heal. Your heart shattered to pieces in that moment, weeping endlessly with fat, salty tears. Your precious darling girls, so considerate of you, so caring, their hearts filled with everlasting gratitude. And you wanted to leave them. You felt like a piece of shit of a parental figure, obviously.

Days passed as if nothing had ever happened. Even in your private moments with Geto, the issue was never brought up. He took care of your wounds, of course, but your escape attempt wasn’t a topic of conversation at all. You swept it under the rug.

Which means it was only a question of time until he was going to wield it against you.

“Leave the scabs alone.” he reprimands you softly, dragging your wrist away from them. The hot water softened your scars, making them itchy, easy to pick away at them. But Geto is so thoughtful for looking after you like some kind of crazy mother hen, right? Even sitting in the tub behind you.

He takes hold of the edge, stepping out of the tub swiftly. The water suddenly drops around you, goosebumps dot your skin from the sudden touch of the moistened air as he hides that broad, sun-kissed form of his beneath a bathrobe. You ache for a bit of peace, a bit of me-time, but since the so-called “accident”, he just couldn’t stop himself from keeping an eye on you constantly.

Your hand dances along the surface of the water, bunching the bubbles together into various shapes, like they’re islands. Like you’re a young god, decorating the plane you’ve created. But his outstretched palm appearing in your vision disturbs your creative process.

“Come, I’ll take the stitches out.”

Compared to when your wound was sutured, cutting out the thread is a relatively quick process. Especially with his competency. The tweezer lifts and holds the knot, as he severs the thread with a pair of scissors and pulls it from your flesh before he moving on to the next. It’s uncomfortable, not in a way that it hurts, but it makes your skin crawl and your bones bend. An overall disgusting feeling. But when it’s over, it does feel better. And knowing him, you wonder if it’s purposeful or not.

“Must you make it painful?” you complain, thumb pressing down on the closed, marred skin. For the wrong reasons though, but you can freely complain.

“I didn’t intend to hurt you.” his voice is soft like silk, but not without a sharp edge in it, slowly unfurling, like the jaws of a venus flytrap. “I just wanted to teach you a lesson.”

You glare at him, your eyes piercing him like a dagger.

“Me? I wanted to teach you a lesson.”

This… was a bit too far, you must admit.

You storm out of the bathroom, like you could get away from the conversation.

“Go on, speak.” his words echo through the walls of the bedroom, making your movements halt immediately. You glance up at the window, faced with his reflection as he leans against the doorframe. “What should I learn from you? That you’re not afraid to run? To put your life in unnecessary danger?”

A long sigh leaves through your nostrils.

“If it comforts you, then yes, I realized that I had made a dumb decision.”

You don’t have to turn around to know he’s standing right behind you. Looming over you, shrouding you like an evil trickster spirit.

“I must admit I enjoyed your little attempt…” his palms are heavy on your shoulders, just like his words echoing close to shell of your ear. “Catching you, watching your resolves crumble, the raw terror plastered on your face…” the way his voice caresses you is just like the way he would hold a blade right against your throat, pressing down on the pulsing veins that could be cut open so easily. Like needles slowly being inserted into your ear canals. Eventually it softens, getting more serious and chiding. “But you did scare me. Have you ever thought about what would’ve happened if I didn’t go after you?”

You’d die, you would definitely die. Bleeding out amidst the leaves and grass, letting the frosty night bite you tense and weak. All alone in the dark.

Hold on…

You wouldn’t be injured if he hadn’t frightened you in the first place.

Did he just… no, it can’t be.

He slowly walks away from you, and you hear the bed creak under his weight. The choking feeling finally lifts from your throat. You turn towards one of the incense burners, already filled, it merely needs to be lit. But you do it slowly, just for the sake of appearing busy, to not feel obligated to carry on with the conversation.

But you should make peace with him before he does. He’ll make you face all of your mistakes and their consequences, if not outright making you suffer because of them. Rub all of them into your face until you have no choice but to plead for forgiveness.

It’s not easy, but you open your mouth. The scent of sandalwood lowers your guards, helping you be honest and brings forth the thoughts you’ve been trying to hide for a long time.

“Sometimes I wonder if we’re doing the right thing. And I wonder even more about that if we’ll fail before reaching our goal. Fail spectacularly. Because we want to do the impossible.”

“What is exactly the right thing? Being selfless? Forgetting all about our grudges and letting the world trample all over us? Or being selfish and crushing anyone under our feet to keep each other safe?”

Like an elastic band being strained for far too long, you snap. Luckily, the bronze lid of the incense burner holds out under your grasp.

“It’s too fucking late for moral arguments! Can’t you speak to me more directly for once? Instead of hiding behind your… carefully crafted scenarios that only prove your point.”

You should have avoided looking at him. At your serpent, who made you sin, who was cursed alongside you, your serpent who devoured your beloved Adam. You yearned for the remains, sitting in the bottomless pit of his stomach.

But you swore those remains spoke to you, through layers of flesh, scales, and deception. Soft and calm like a light summer breeze.

“Do you have doubts about me, darling? Are you giving up on me?”

The question breaks you, evaporating all of your anger and resentment in a flash. Devoid of any playful tone or hidden meanings, so raw that it takes hold of your heart and squeezes it so tight that it couldn’t possibly beat anymore.

You know how he twists the truth, striking right into the softest parts of you. He feeds you poison – yet you swallow it right down every single time.

“Faith has no zenith, my dear.” you answer, low and sweet, like you wanted to comfort him. The lid on the incense burner closes, giving you enough time to build up the courage to approach him. You weave your words carefully, in such fashion that it can be interpreted in multiple ways. If he switched just one little word, he’d immediately gain more insight into what’s really been weighing on your heart. “There’s no such peak we can reach on which we can stagnate forever. Faith sometimes wavers, sometimes we question our beliefs. Sometimes we’re unsure if our prayers are heard.” you get down on your knees before him, taking his hand into yours, giving him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “But I do want to have faith in you.”

His features visibly soften. Heavy lids close in relief, and you feel his thumb brushing along your knuckles.

This is your chance! Go on, there’s no time more perfect than this to try to convince him.

“We should really get away from the temple.” you start with an almost resigned sigh, but your excitement soon starts to show. “Just for a few days. Manami will handle the followers while we leave for the countryside, or an island. We can bring the girls even.”

A faint glimmer in his eyes tells you his answer is going to disappoint you.

“They don’t know about the girls, but they certainly know about you.” he reminds you sternly. “The higher ups want us dead and the last time I offered to protect someone, they ended up getting killed.”

His voice is faint, almost shaky. He rarely talks about the death of Riko. And if he ever brings her up in a conversation, you know he means it.

The heavy lid above his eyes drops, violet irises hiding behind his lashes, averted from you. The words coming out of him are barely above a whisper, like his lips are made from lead, like forming the words is a tiring task because they’re so heavy, and filled with something violently torturing him.

“This is a risk I’m not willing to take again. Not even for you. Especially for you.”

You feel something pooling on your waterline. Translucent pearls of tears appear so involuntarily when you see him like this. Sometimes you do want to hurt him, but when you see him in pain, it torments you even worse.

“I’m not asking you to take risks for me. I never did. But you should take some for you. You could use some respite.” you lace your fingers with his. It brings you a strange kind of comfort how your hand just loses itself in his, but it’s yours that looks more lively and powerful. Like it’s you what keeps him together. As if without you he would shatter into pieces. “You take on an awful lot of responsibilities, I think sometimes more than you’re capable of handling.”

Affection sweeps through his features as he caresses your head, from the roots of your strands to the thick bone of your jaw. A lonely thumb brushing along from your cheekbone to the lobe of your ear. And there’s nothing you can do, only stare at him, wide-eyed with reverence, like he’s an ethereal being.

“This is not your cross to bear.”

He wanted to ease your concerns, but you’re much more stubborn than that. You won’t stand there, at a safe distance, watching him drag himself to his Calvary, whipped and crowned with thorns. You’ll push through the crowd, smash them to bits just to reach him and offer your veil to wipe his face. A thousand times, as many times as he needs.

“Of course it is, what do you expect from me? Unlike…” No, don’t say names, do not compare yourself to certain figures in your past and the way they treated him. “I’m worried about you, for no other reason than I genuinely care about you. That’s why I want you to put our plans to aside - let’s unwind a little, recharge. Before all of this drives us insane.”

He deliberately avoids answering, your concern grows and grows like vicious vine. Is this too much to ask for? A small moment of normalcy can’t be granted to you? What are the two of you really? Idols of worship, if not gods at this point because your sheep do regard you as such. But can’t gods long for a visit amongst mortals? Can’t they shed their divine status? You could, but maybe, before he’d let you leave, he’ll feed you pomegranate seeds.

Would you eat them again? Of course you would. Even if you fight and snarl a little beforehand. Because love is the death of duty, and of a peaceful mind, of comprehensive decisions. Love is so mystified, shrouded in the illusion of an immortalized existence, just like death. Love is, indeed, death.

Your palms cup his face, his skin radiates warmth through you. The warmth of the evening sun that makes the sky bleed with the prettiest colors you can imagine. Your touch slowly encourages him to look into your eyes, finding a strange kind of determination and care mixed with your obvious worry. A Magdalene dwells within your gaze, who already washed her prophet’s feet with tears and dried them with her hair before he starts his last journey to Golgotha.

“I told you a million times, if you fall too deep into your misery, when you feel like you can’t come back to the surface on your own, let me know, so I can pull you out. Or let me know so I can go after you. And we’ll drown together.”

All those little pacts and vows you made during the years echo through you. Even the first one, the most ancient of them all, when it was still easy to hide your concerns behind your techniques.

I’ll keep an eye on you.

It’ll keep an eye on you.

You lean closer, foreheads and the tips of your noses touching. Eyes closing in almost perfect synchronicity.

“Promise me, Suguru. Promise me again.”

You wait and wait, until his warm breath brushes your skin like fine silk, like a feather.

“I promise.”

You sigh in relief. It hurts, it hurts so much. There’s so much place in your heart for him to dwell in. He owns it and he won’t give it back. Ever.

You only wanted a chaste kiss, but a special type of hunger wakes deep below your navel. You taste his words, you swallow them down, nipping them from his lips. You look for the rest of them, his thoughts that hadn’t been formed into words yet, the rest of the sentence, you search for it with your tongue inside his mouth.

You grab onto the sheets, trying to push yourself up. Like you could overpower him, like you could battle against him. To have him laid out on the mattress, defeated. But he stops your advances with a palm resting on your shoulder, gently pushing you away.

“You’re not healed yet.” he whispers, truly concerned.

“Then I’ll be on top, I don’t care.” you oppose breathily, your fingers trying to pry his robe open.

“The cut on your hand could re-open if we’re not careful.”

Oh, how you adore him when he’s so tender with you, but now, this is the last thing you want. You want to bare your teeth and go right for the throat.

“Then you’ll stitch me up again.” There’s a playful edge in your voice, and you kiss him again with the same curve of a smile while he lets you crawl on top of him.

And he smiles against you too, delighted by your eagerness. You, trying to eat him up, digest him - he’s just enjoying you and the feast you’re having. Taking everything from you. He only wants to capture you, to cage you in his hold. He’s kneading your flesh leisurely and humming into your mouth contently, almost lazily.

In the crooks of his body, you find your religion.

The sharp line of his jaw, the tendons of his neck, the hollow caverns around his collarbone. But your mouth carefully avoids the scars slashing through his chest, after all those years, it still pains him when the lightly coloured, textured skin gets touched. As if these lips of yours and your aimlessly trailing fingers were the same blades, penetrating the flesh again and again.

There’s not a morsel of him that you weren’t intimately familiar with. In a way that rivals how much you know about yourself. And what you know even better is that how can you venerate them, dote on them, adore, and idolize with such devotion you could anger all deities created by man and make them scream blasphemy on you.

You take his cock in your hand, teasingly working your palms around him. Pumping it, stroking your thumb along the underside to make his breath hitch. His dick grows beneath your hands, getting harder and heavier. The first beads of precum get smeared along the length by your skillful fingers.

“You know you don’t have to- “but you cut him off while settling between his legs.

“Just relax and let me do all the work.” your response comes out a bit more deadpan than planned. “You deserve it once in a while.”

And with that, you wrap your lips around him, enveloping him in warmth and wetness, your tongue slowly swirling around the head. His thighs twitch, more precum oozes into your waiting mouth as the muscle between your teeth works eagerly. You give him a few, gentle sucks, slurping up the mixture of your own saliva and his arousal. Between ragged breaths, he reminds you to breathe through your nose as you take more and more of his length. You relax your jaw, your fingers tense around the base of his cock and you’re trying as hard as you can to defeat the urge to gag. When you fit all of him inside your mouth, you empty your lungs and give him a harder suck, hard enough to make you cheeks hollow and his chest heave. As your free hand is occupied with kneading his balls between your fingers and knuckles, a moan bursts out of him.

The sound boosts your confidence, filling you with a wicked kind of playfulness. The kind of wicked that makes you pull back your tongue a little, as to not keep your teeth hidden. You drag them along his sensitive, pulsing underside, balancing the pressure between pleasure and pain. Like you could prove to him that you’re ready to bite back, that this is the only moment when he can’t control you, that he shouldn’t underestimate you.

And just as if he could read your thoughts, his hand goes for your head, fingers getting lost between your strands. But he’s not as cruel as to push you down on him, instead he guides you, increases the rhythm that you’re working with. Steady and firm, but not too fast. You earn yourself his praises, soft curses pitched higher than his normal voice.

This is what real worship looks like.

When you feel the muscles in his thighs and stomach tensing up, you stop. You emerge from the space between his legs, wiping your lips clean and admiring your work. All that flushed skin blooming in pink on his chest and face. You move, trying to get into a new position, settling your calves right next to hips. You start aligning yourself with his cock to finally start grinding on him.

He sits up and traps you with an arm coiling around your waist.

“Since when were you so reckless?”

His hand creeps around the apex of your thighs. A finger barely brushes along your slit. By adding another digit, he spreads your folds, finding hot, smooth, slippery flesh.

“I would’ve prepped myself.” that’s all you can say in your defense.

Fingertips circle your hole, applying a bit of pressure, checking how much you’ve loosened up. He invades you slowly as your lungs empty, the hardened skin on his fingers stroking and massaging your sweet spots before he starts working you open.

You wrap your arms around him, slowly undoing his bun to have something to grab onto as you jolt, as your bones melt, as your brows furrow in bliss. The moans coming from you are breathy and tender, and you hide them in his strands. He twists his fingers inside you, stretching your warm muscles further, making your back arch and you press your hardened nipples to his chest. Your essence engulfs his knuckles, clear and sticky like honey.

The heel of his palm settles right against your clit and you shamelessly grind on it. Your mewls pass over his ears as he’s nuzzling into the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin of a faint scar. But you resist giving in, you stop him, telling him that’s enough, but in reality you just want your control back. Take back the lead and revel in it.

And somehow he obeys, laying back into the sheets.

You slip out of your robe, showing yourself fully. The bruises on your skin can finally bathe in the dim lamplight, painting the complexion of your sides, shoulders, and upper arm in different shades of blue and purple, like paint on bare canvas. Like the night sky carrying storm clouds, like you’re rotting, decomposing. You find a twisted, perverted joy in the fact that he must be seeing them for the whole time.

“Slowly, slowly.” he murmurs softly as you’re pushing the head of his cock inside you. “There’s no need to rush.” Trimmed nails trail up and down from the flesh of your thighs to your bruised sides. Tender and slow like a ghost, goosebumps pepper your skin from the tickling feeling. “I’m already yours.” He purrs and your heart flutters.

And there’s so, so much pride in you that only you can render him to this state. Too powerful for the world to bear him, capable to burn this plane to ruins, defying the barriers between a mortal and a god - or something way worse than that. Maybe you should receive twice the respect from your herd, for being the only person who can enslave him in this way, that only you can have this sort of power over him. Only you can overthrow him. Because you’re just too dear to him, too close to his burning heart.

Maybe it’s your time to warn him. Tame him like the monster he is.

You move with your own rhythm. His hand caged between your fingers and pressed down against the sheets. You give him no other choice but to venerate you back and he does, with pleased, low rumbles coming from his throat. Only a singular hand is allowed to roam your form freely. On your back tracing the shallow line where your spine lies beneath skin and flesh, wandering towards the inner part of your thighs, then to your stomach and chest. And you reward him with a prayer of your own, encapsulated in deep, long sighs.

But you’re too trusting of him. You let your guard down too easily.

You’re holding onto his kneecaps, leaning towards them a little, allowing every inch of you to be seen. You want to give him a show, but your knees are too worn and tired.

He takes hold of your hips, helping you guide yourself along his length. His pelvis moves along with you in synced rhythm. Your teeth are pressing down on the soft skin of your lips, but you can’t keep your whimpers in. You’re getting close, your muscles and nerves are st tight and pulsing, your walls are pressing down on his length. His name mindlessly slips out of your mouth.

Maybe you can say you love him before you shatter.

But his fingers clench around you, strong and firm, stopping your movements. Lifting your hips up so high that his cock is barely inside, robbing you from your incoming orgasm.

You’re shocked, eyes staring into the nothingness, open wide. Your stomach drops, stirring up all kinds of feelings dwelling in you. A chill races down your vertebrae as you glance down at him.

“Suguru..?” Your voice is weak, shaky.

Fear courses through your being, primordial and all-consuming.

And when he speaks to you it’s all dark, shrouded in malevolence.

“You forgot one thing, darling. After I brought you back from the forest.”

No, no, no, he can’t do this to you! He can’t hold your orgasm hostage for the sake of toying with you! You should puncture his flesh your nails, scratch him, tear him up, but you can only grit your teeth. Your features twist from bliss to rage.

“You…” boiling anger swims through your voice. It’s like it’s not even your voice - more like a hiss, a growl.

There’s an undecipherable mixture of pity and amusement in his eyes. He twitches inside you but you’re too upset to notice.

“Apologize.” he sneers - almost commands.

His words cause anger to bubble up in you.

“Oh, you piece of shit…!” you seethe, but sob and moan when he slams you back on his cock, stretching you around his length again. Wanting to quench your rage with the sensation you crave the most right now.

“I hope, for your sake, I don’t have to repeat myself.”

It doesn’t matter how much you try to squirm, fuss and wriggle, he forces you still. His behaviour frustrates you to no end when you’re so desperate for a bit of friction, the horribly hollow and burning feeling of your lost peak torturing you seemingly endlessly. To the point where you’re too tired to put up a fight, when you’re teetering on the edge of breaking. You know you must swallow your pride, you have let him have it his way.

“I… I’m sorry.” you apologize meekly, teary-eyed, your voice a pathetic mewl. He finally starts lifting you up and easing you down, building you up slowly. But it’s not enough. You need more but he won’t give it to you just yet.

“You do?” he asks you in a way that it cuts deep into your marrow. It’s not even close to a loving tease – no, he’s outright mocking you.

Vicious bastard. You should grab his throat and squeeze the air out of him.

“Yes, I do!” you cry out without thinking. “I’m sorry for running away from you.” you push the words out through your whimpers. He increases the pace, making you yelp and shake, you end up closing your eyes reflexively. He robbed you from the sensation for so long that you became sensitive, it’s easier to make a mess out of you. Your face is red with shame, so much so you can’t look him in the eyes. The humiliation is like an invisible rope tightening around your neck.

“Promise you’ll never do that to me again.”

He pushes your hips further along his length this time, shifting you a bit towards his thighs. Creating a perfect angle, he uncovers a sweet spot inside you that makes you almost incapable of forming coherent words. And he eats the sight right up.

“…I promise… I promise...” you manage to get your answer out in the form of a choked hiccup. Your vision blurs. Everything is too intense for you to handle. You swear that the very shape of you could dissolve at any given moment.

Faith is desperate. Gods are hungry for despair. So they deliberately make you suffer and only then reveal themselves to you.

His fingers dig into your waist so hard it burns. You feel the world shift with you and then you collide with the sheets. Your bruised back ripples with pain. You’re unsure if he did it out of spite or not. You don’t know if he’ll completely shatter your dignity, or if he’s fine with just enforcing the feeling that you can never be above him, that you can never defeat him.

His weight on top of you is overwhelming. The midnight dark locks of his hair spread around you like spilled ink. And through the thick fog of your mind, too far gone in twisted, masochistic pleasure, you lock your legs around his waist. You don’t want him to go away. You might as well cease to exist if he does.

“And what do we say when we apologize?”

The soft plea coming from you is more instinctual rather than deliberate.

“Forgive me.”

You ache for him to move, you’re starved for the incoming high. Like a ravenous beast, all devouring. When he finally gives it to you, his thrusts make you feel possessed, make your back arch, your head falls back into the pillow as if you were offering your neck to him (maybe one day he won’t be able to resist the urge and will bite down on the jugular, through your trachea, putting you out of your misery) - you don’t dare to beg for anything else.

Maybe just for a little blood. A mark he can wear, just like you wear your bruises. Your nails somehow acquire a will of their own, your scratches have him excited and pleased.

His fingers meander around your jaw, gently coaxing you into letting him guide your gazes to meet again.

He’s imitating you, admiring his work like you did with him. And what he sees is a being stripped from any likeness of a dignified human being. With eyes so blown he can see the bottommost pits of Hell in them.

And he’s satisfied, rewarding you with a soft kiss on your temple.

“I forgive you.”

Your release crashes over you like a tide, submerging you, burning you to cinders on the inside. Tearing you apart. And when he collapses on top you after filling you to the brim, you feel like a festering wound.

He’s a disease, miasma, a flesh-eating parasite crawling inside you.

“You’re…” you huff. “You’re awful.”

“I know. But you love me all the same.”

You wonder what you should have done to earn a different outcome, but you give up soon. Looks like he already had plans for your atonement in mind. After all, gods are impatient creatures. They’re dependent on your reverence and servitude. And you’ve waited for too long to make things right.

Why, why, why - it echoes inside your head.

But if you think about it… he’s your serpent. The vilest, most horrendous creature created by God. The one who charmed you, tempted you with sin and has now sunken his fangs into you. Of course he did, and instead of trying to heal from his venomous bite, you want to catch him - to find out his reasons, to prove to him that you didn’t deserve that.

And yet you could never, ever prove him wrong. Your serpent will always think it was right to bite. It’s in his nature afterall.

“Is your hand alright?”

He makes it up to you with spoiling you again. He cleans your wounds so sweetly, so thoughtfully, looks after you in a way that nobody could, which confuses you even further.

He cherishes you, destroys himself for the sake of keeping you safe - not like it’s a choice, but a must - just like a mother would. He scolds you, reminds you not to make the same mistake again, collars you, keeps you on a tight leash, only loosening it (just a little) when he succeeded at making you play by his rules, just like a father would.

And somehow, he excels at both. Way better than those two ever did when it came to you.

You wish your glare could pierce right through his skull when you hand the empty glass back to him. You don’t have it in you to play nice. You don’t even attempt hide that you’re sulking, he probably finds it funny - adorable even.

“Go to hell.” you spit and lay back into the sheets, your bruised back facing him.

“Oh, darling…” he coos, but the surface level sweetness of his tone hides a sharp edge of condescendence. He crawls into bed, right behind you, caging you in his embrace, forcing you to feel the warmth of his body. The warmth that you’re so used to, the one you can’t sleep without it. Nobody has ever made you feel this safe, and the fact makes your heart ache and your stomach twist.

“If there’s a Hell, I’ll see you there.”

[haddonfieldwhore]

if we’ve got eachother - mjf

mjf x gender neutral! cole! reader

part one here • part two here

word count: 2.5k

warnings: not edited, bit of family drama, angst, language, nsfw themes/implied smut !

a week had gone by since adam found out about you and max, and you and your brother were effectively ignoring eachother completely. him and max had to be at least professional enough to do their segments together, but didn’t speak to eachother outside of work business. you hated that you had come between their friendship, but you also felt like adam was overreacting. there was a week long break coming up, and you knew adam was going him to see your parents; usually you would go with him, but this time you weren’t sure you really wanted to spend seven days in a house with him, along with your parents asking why you were fighting. your mom had actually been calling and texting you, asking if she could expect you home for the break, but you had ignored all of her messages.

“what are you thinking about?” max asked, snapping you out of your trance as he walked out of the bathroom, fresh out of the shower. his skin was still damp, nothing but a fluffy white towel around his waist as he used a smaller one to dry off his curly hair. max had been travelling with you rather than adam since things kind of exploded last week.

you raised an eyebrow, unable to stop yourself from staring at his chiseled abs, and the happy trail that started at his naval and disappeared under the towel.

“well now i’m thinking about something else…” you said, sitting up on the bed as max walked over to you, leaning down to kiss your lips.

“oh yeah? what’s that?” he smirked, and your hands reached for the towel that hung low on his hips. his hands cradled either side of your jaw as you let the towel fall to the floor, and he kissed you deeply. max pulled your shirt over your head, before wrapping a hand around your throat and pulling you up onto your knees, kissing you again. your hands tangled in his damp curls, and his tongue slipped past your lips to explore your mouth, that taste of mint toothpaste on his tongue.

you were interrupted by a knock at the door, and max sighed, kissing you one more time before he turned and started walking towards the door. you slid your shirt back on, making yourself look at least decent.

“i’ll get it,” you laughed pushing him around the corner out of view of the doorway, and throwing the towel at him. you were still smiling when you opened the door, but it disappeared completely at the sight of adam.

“y/n,” he began, greeted you with an awkward nod. you shifted your weight nervously back and forth on your feet.

“so you’re talking to me again?” you asked, and adam sighed.

“i … don’t know. i do need to ask you about next week though.”

“so mom sent you? that’s adorable,” you laughed, annoyed.

“can we set this aside- for one week; for her sake?” he asked, and you laughed in disbelief. of course you wanted to see your parents, but you were stubborn to your core.

“i don’t know adam. you’re the one who has an issue with me and max being together.” he sighed, running a hand through his long hair.

“i have an issue with the fact that you and my best friend betrayed me-“

“oh get over yourself. we didn’t get together just to spite you, adam. do you hear yourself? yes, we were wrong to hide it from you, i can admit that; but i wouldn’t take back what i did.”

“so you aren’t coming home?” he asked.

“i’ll think about it.”

“no you won’t. you’ve already decided; i know you.” adam spat. “at least call mom and have the guts to tell her you’re choosing a guy over your family.”

“don’t talk to them like that,” max appeared behind you, his lower half dressed in a pair of shorts.

“max,” adam greeted awkwardly. “this is a family conversation.”

“oh- please continue,” max taunted, not leaving your side.

“actually i think we’re done here,” you said, closing the door on your brother. max turned you to face him, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug.

“you okay?” he asked, kissing the top of your head. you nodded into his chest, before pulling back to kiss his lips softly.

“yeah. thank you for having my back, even though you don’t have to protect me from adam.”

“i know,” he said, kissing the top of your nose. “are you going home next week?” he asked, and you sighed flopping onto your stomach on the bed.

“i don’t think so. i don’t want to spend a week with someone who won’t talk to me,” you mumbled. max crawled onto the bed, hovering over top of you and placing kisses along your shoulder and up the side of your neck to your ear.

“come home with me instead,” he whispered, nipping at the shell of your ear. you couldn’t hold back the moan that left your lips as max pressed himself against your backside. max rolled over, pulling you with him until you straddled his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist and holding you close.

“you don’t think we’ll get sick of eachother if we spend a week together?” you teased, as max placed wet kissed on your neck, finding your sweet spot with ease.

“fuck no,” he laughed.

•••

you had in fact decided to spend the week off at max’s house with him, and the two of you had just arrived, pulling into the driveway in max’s blue camaro. when you entered the house, a fluffy white and tortoiseshell cat ran up to max, weaving in and out of his feet and meowing.

“hey piper,”max laughed, bending down to pick up the cat. “daddy’s home. did you miss me?” he bombarded the cat with kisses on her forehead, and you laughed.

“daddy?” you raised an eyebrow.

“shut up, you love it,” he smirked, and turned the cat towards you. “this is piper.” you extended a hand gently for the cat to sniff, and she let you pat her on the top of the head.

“hi piper,” you smiled. max placed her softly on the ground, and led you further into the house. it was minimally decorated, which made sense considering how many days of the year he would actually be home. there was a large cream coloured couch in the center of the living room, that had a wall of large windows.

“you’re gonna have two cuddle buddies now,” max was still talking to piper as you sat down on the soft couch, and the cat hopped up into your lap. “she likes you,” max smiled, and sat next to you in the couch, tucking you under his arm. piper walked back and worth across both of your laps, before laying down on the arm rest.

“she’s cute,” you beamed, and max kissed your lips softly.

“you’re cute.” you giggled as he kissed your forehead and then your lips again.

“did you hit your head or something? what’s got you in such a good mood?” you laughed, although you weren’t complaining; you could get used to the softer side of max.

“no,” he smirked, easily pushing you over to pin him underneath you on the couch. “why, how do you want me to be?” he stared down at you, his brown eyes darker than usual.

“i just didn’t know the devil could be such a softie, that’s all,” you explained playfully, knowing you were pushing his buttons.

“careful,” he warned, a hand wrapping gently but firmly around your throat as you stared up at him, your eyes wide with excitement. “you’re gonna get yourself in trouble. unless that’s what you’re trying to do?”

“you tell me, daddy.” you teased, and he groaned, his grip tightening around your neck before he relaxed.

“you are driving me crazy,” he rolled his eyes, leaning down to kiss you. your teeth pulled at his bottom lip as his hand moved from your neck to cradle the side of your face.

“i can’t believe i get you all to myself for a whole week,” you exhaled as max left a trail of kisses down the side of your neck, leaving soft love bites behind.

“i hope you don’t like walking-“ you interrupted him with another kiss, and you could feel him smirking against your lips. your phone began to ring in your bag, and you sighed heavily. “don’t answer that,” max whispered next to your ear, his hands trailing down your sides to pull you hips upward against his.

“what if it’s important?” you asked, letting out a moan as he rutted his hips against yours.

“it can wait,” he growled, and his fingers began undoing your pants.

“max…”

“tell me if you want me to stop,” his voice sent a shiver down your spine as he slid your pants down, biting down on the skin below your jaw.

“fuck- please max,” you begged, unable to think straight.

“please what, baby?” he asked as his hand disappeared into your underwear.

“don’t stop.” max smiled before kissing you roughly, as your phone stopped ringing.

•••

you were peacefully face down in max’s bed, the soft blankets the only thing covering your body as you lay there, waking up from a nap after max had given you a very… thorough.. tour of his house. your eyes fluttered open at the sound of max getting out of the shower, the bathroom door opening with a soft click, and you looked up to see him, only his lower half dressed as he walked over to you. max leaned down and gently kissed the side of your head, and you smiled, waking up fully and rolling over to sit up against the headboard.

“hey sleepyhead, late night?” max teased, and you looked over at the clock that read 11:23 am, meaning you had only been asleep for about an hour, having fallen asleep after you and max had spent the entire morning breaking in his new mattress so to speak.

“shut up, don’t tease me when it’s your fault,” you pouted, pulling the blanket up higher. max laughed, raising his hands in mock innocence, kissing you sweetly on the lips.

“i’m sorry baby. you feel okay?” he asked sincerely, and you nodded.

“yeah, i’m great,” you smiled. “are you okay?”

“yeah baby i’m okay,” he smiled, kissing your forehead and then your lips again. “by the way, your phone has been going off for like an hour.”

you sighed, and max handed you one of his tshirts to wear as you got out of bed. max smiled to himself at the way your legs wobbled slightly as you walked, but didn’t mention it, deciding he had teased you enough. you walked over to your suitcase and dressed the rest of your body in your underwear and some shorts, before digging you phone out of your bag and checking the many notifications you had missed. there was about 20 text messages from your mom, a few from adam, and about 12 missed calls between the two of them. the ones from your mom were asking where you were, with increasing concern; you gathered that adam hadn’t told her you weren’t coming. reading through the ones he had sent confirmed your suspicion. you sighed, but clicked on your moms contact and put the phone to your ear, listening to it ring until she answered.

“y/n! sweetie i’ve been calling you! did you get my texts? why aren’t you home for the break?” she asked, concern in her voice.

“relax mom,” you laughed. “i’m sorry, adam was supposed to let you know i wouldn’t be there this time. i’m sorry to worry you,” you lied, only feeling a little guilty about throwing your brother under the bus.

“oh - he said he thought you were coming. i’ll have to talk to him,” she said. “anyways, what’s keeping you away? is there a boy?” she asked in a playful tone, and you smiled, looking over at max who was on the other side of the room, scrolling through his phone, paying no attention.

“yeah, actually - there is.”

“that’s great honey! are you spending your vacation together?” she asked.

“yeah, i’m actually with him at his house for a few days,” you explained. you knew she didn’t watch the show every week, but still hoped she didn’t ask too many questions about max. his reputation, at least in regards to the character he portrayed, wasn’t the best and would definitely concern your mother; nevermind the fact that him and adam were friends. thankfully, she didn’t ask for too many details.

“well i’m sad we won’t be seeing you, but i hope you’re having fun sweetie! be safe, and if something happens and you need to come home you’re always welcome.” you felt a pang in your heart, missing home and your family.

“thanks mom. i love you, and i promise next time i have time off i’ll be there.”

“i love you too, honey. me and your dad will see you then. maybe you can bring this boy of yours next time.” you smiled, glancing over at max again who looked up at your and sent you a wink, and you laughed softly.

“we’ll see mom. i’ll talk to you later okay?”

“bye sweetie,” she replied before you hung up. you considered calling adam as well, but decided you didn’t want to speak to him, sending him a text instead.

‘talked to mom. she’s happy for me.’

you put your phone back in your bag without waiting for a reply, and walked (still with some difficulty) over to max, who looked up at you from the chair he was sitting in.

“all good? your family’s not gonna send the cops here to arrest me for kidnapping you?” he asked, and you sat down in his lap, and his arms wrapped around your waist immediately.

“no i think you’re safe for now. unless adam calls them,” you joked. “my mom wants me to bring you home, so i think she’s on our side. i didn’t exactly tell her who you are though.”

“what can i say, moms love me.” you slapped his chest gently as you both laughed. “she’s doesn’t need to know all the little details just yet.”

“agreed. i just hope adam calms down about it. i hate that i’ve come in between you guys.”

“i know baby. he’ll get over it,” max said, kissing your cheek.

“i hope so,” you sighed. “enough about my family drama. what’s the plan for today?”

“hmmm i think we can do whatever we want,” max said, kissing your neck softly.

“i like the sound of that. i need to shower first though,” you giggled as his kissed tickled your skin. max let go of you, allowing you to stand up and walk to the bathroom. you turned the water on, before peeking back out into the bedroom.

“you coming?” you smirked, and max threw his phone aside and hurried over to join you, and you smiled. things may not be perfect, but you were happier than you had been in a long time, and as long as you and max had eachother, you knew you would be fine.

🏷️ taglist: @frodhoebagginit

[iamnotthere-idonotdie]

dream of me

part one

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synopsis: reader is an employee at wayne enterprises and gets a promotion from bruce, but the line between your professional relationship is blurred when he invites you to dinner.

content: bruce wayne x reader, no use of y/n, some cursing, some sex but not too graphic, mention of parents’ death

a/n: i had some other plans for this story but got a bad case of writers block so i decided to leave it here instead of dragging it out for the sole purpose of adding another plot point, i don’t have any plans for more parts to this but we’ll see, i honestly think i was more envisioning keaton’s bruce wayne for this story (at least i envisioned his house to look like keaton’s) because battinson’s would be pretty uncharacteristic for this, maybe this is an au where bruce wayne isn’t batman and just works at the company but i don’t know, point is just interpret bruce however you’d like, as always sorry about the typos, also sorry if it’s inaccurate that bruce doesn’t cook (i wasn’t sure if it was canon that he does or not so sorry if i was wrong in my guess, i should’ve just looked it up but honestly i was just ready to finally get this out of my drafts)

edit: i got around to making a part two

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grey clouds encompass the sky. your window is frosted by the freeze outside and slow snowflakes fall down like confetti. you walk up to the window and put your hand on it, letting the chilled glass send a shiver down your spine. it’s the first snowfall of winter. the first of likely many. though your penthouse offers a lavish view of the icy landscape of beautiful serenity, you know on the streets below the ice has already turned to slush and the snow has darkened from the dirty concrete. nothing beautiful lasts long in gotham city.

you pull your robe tighter around your shoulders and let out a sigh. you suppose you’d better get dressed for work. you walk across the bedroom to your closet and begin selecting your outfit. a stylish ensemble of pants, a button down top, and a sweater. you grab your boots out of the closet and set them down on the hardwood floor, the thud waking up your partner in bed. well, not exactly partner. but he kept you company last night, and warm this morning.

he rubs his eyes and sits up in bed.

“you’re leaving?” he asks, his words slurring as he tries to wake up.

“i have to go to work. we have a budget meeting today. i can’t be late.” you reply as you put your boots over your thick socks.

“what time is the meeting at?”

“ten.” you reply, flatly.

“well then what’s the rush? you still have plenty of time to get there.”

“not in this ice, i don’t.”

“well then at least let me kiss you goodbye.”

you reluctantly walk back over to the bed and kiss his cheek. you feel a sting in your chest and realize he didn’t see this as the one night stand you did.

“bye. i have to go.”

“see you later?” he asks as he gets out from under the covers, his clothes still off.

“maybe.” you say coldly. you don’t have time for this.

“okay, fine. bye.” he replies just as icy. good. it’s easier that way.

you put your coat on and grab your bag as you walk out the door, locking it behind you. he’ll unlock it again when he leaves but mrs. hanson down the hall has a spare. you’ll text her to lock the door for you later.

just as you predicted, the roads are a nightmare. you’re weaving in between other cars, willing the other drivers in them to go faster. you can’t be late for this meeting.

you finally get to the tower and pull into the garage, opting for a space right by the elevators. maybe if you get this promotion they’ll give you an assigned spot.

you get to your desk at 9:46. with a few minutes to spare, you go to the break room and make a coffee. someone keeps using your mug, so you have to use the communal one with the cartoon dog on it. not as professional as you’d like. and you can’t use a disposable because wayne enterprises is committed to being waste-free. at least waste-free when it comes to the break room. other areas in the company could benefit from that policy. but that’s what you’re going to propose in your meeting. you know this corporation is not going to run out of money anytime soon, but there are still places to improve on efficiency. you drink your coffee, black, and make your way back to your desk. you glance at the conference room every few seconds to watch your boss set up for the meeting. you analyze his every move, trying to gauge his mood at the moment. sometimes these proposals of yours don’t go over very well if he seems to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. you need him in a good mood. this meeting can potentially determine whether or not you can continue climbing the corporate ladder into that manager position you’ve been pining for for two years.

you gather your folder and notepad, opting to leave the coffee sitting at your desk, and you walk into the conference room.

“good morning mr. glass. enjoying the snow this morning?” you greet him in your most chipper tone in an attempt to sway what you think is a bad mood.

“well i would if the roads weren’t so goddamn icy. these people can’t drive in the snow.”

so maybe starting the conversation with that was a poor choice.

“yes, it can be very frustrating to drive in it.” you try to be as agreeable as possible.

more of your colleagues start to filter into the room as you take your seat at the end of the table. the conversation is low between everyone as they wait for the meeting to begin.

after 15 minutes, you start getting more anxious. your stare threatens to burn a hole through your folder with the proposal in it. why is this taking so long?

you now understand why there’s been a delay, as bruce wayne enters the room. fuck. bruce wayne is going to have to listen to your proposal now? it was nerve-wracking enough to have to pitch this to your boss, but the owner of the company? your boss’s boss? your hands start to shake and you try to wipe the sweat off of them onto your pants.

“i apologize everyone. i didn’t mean to keep you all waiting.” mr. wayne says as he takes his seat on the opposite end of the table.

mr. glass stands up from his seat at the head of the table. “well as long as you’re here, let’s get started on our quarterly report and budget for next month.”

the rest of the meeting is clouded by your anxiety. all you can think about is how much you don’t want to fuck this up. especially not in front of bruce wayne.

“well it looks like there’s plenty of room for improvement. how do you suggest we close this gap?” mr. glass asks the room, but it’s clear he is directing the question at mr. wayne.

“does anyone have any suggestions?” mr. wayne looks around the table.

without thinking you raise your hand and speak up.

“i have a budgeting proposal that i would like to share. if that’s alright.”

“that’s more than alright. let’s hear it.” mr. wayne gestures for you to take the stand, so to speak.

you stand and shakily take your papers out of the folder.

“as we all know, our expenses have been increasing as of late. and while these expenses have allowed us to improve on some essential aspects and departments, i believe there is a more efficient way we could be doing it.” you pause and look around the room. “firstly…”

the pitch goes better than you could have imagined. you were able to make your proposals clearly, answer questions thoroughly, and present confidently. you sit down after finishing and can’t help but smile, proud of yourself.

“well, that was quite a lot. thank you, but i think some of those implementations are a bit far-fetched.” mr. glass says and you can’t help but hear the condescending tone. your smile drops and you feel your face get hot in embarrassment. so much for that promotion.

“i actually really like what you had to say. i especially liked the suggestion to put more money into outreach.” mr. wayne says to you, smiling. “did you have any specific suggestions on where to do that?”

“thank you mr. wayne. i think it would be extremely beneficial and useful to prioritize teaching youth about technology; promoting stem learning and encouraging them to pursue higher education and research into it. we can even offer scholarships and grants to help students who won’t be able to afford the college tuition. and possibly gifting students new computers to further encourage learning.”

you get so passionate about this topic. you yourself were one of those kids. those kids who didn’t grow up in a mansion, but in a dingy apartment with a single father. those kids who couldn’t even afford to think about college, let alone actually pursue it. it was through a wayne scholarship program that gave you the opportunity to go to university. and now, if you have any say in the matter, you’d be proud to help give that opportunity to someone else who needs it.

“i think that’s great. giving these kids a way to focus their skills in a field they love. great work.” mr. wayne looks impressed, and you can’t help but smile even bigger.

“i appreciate that, mr. wayne.”

mr. glass clears his throat and stands again.

“well it looks like we have a solution here.” your boss says, clearly annoyed. “meeting adjourned, everyone. thank you.”

you stand up and gather your things together. you notice out of the corner of your eye that mr. wayne is making his way toward you.

“that was an excellent proposal. i think there’s a lot of potential there.”

“thank you mr. wayne.”

“bruce, please. i’ve actually been thinking about starting a new outreach division specifically working with the youth of gotham. when that happens, i’d like for you to head that department.”

you stare at him in shock for a moment then finally speak up.

“really? you want me?”

“you clearly have a passion for this. we need that.”

“wow. thank you. i’d be very interested in that.”

heading a division? in a program you care deeply about? this is much better than you had hoped for.

“great. i’ll be in touch and we’ll get started soon.”

“perfect. thank you mr. wa..”

“please, just call me bruce.”

you feel yourself blush a bit.

“bruce, thank you. thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“it’s my pleasure. i’m happy to give the position to someone who really cares about it.”

“i do, very much.”

bruce just smiles as he starts out the room.

“it was nice meeting you. and i’m looking forward to working with you on this.” he says.

“it was nice meeting you too. thank you, again.”

bruce smiles as he exits the room and you watch him through the glass as he makes his way down the hall.

you can’t believe it. this is the perfect opportunity for you. you spend the rest of the day too distracted by glee to focus on your spreadsheets. this is life changing. you can’t help but think of bruce differently too. he’d been up to your floor for meetings many times before, but this was the first time you were sitting in too. you’d always pictured him, frankly, not very positively. you knew this company was a great one and you were proud to work here, but now you’re feeling even better about being a part of wayne enterprises’ legacy.

at 5:36, you start gathering your things to go home. after organizing your desk and grabbing your bag, you start heading out of the office and to the elevators to the garage. you’re the last one to leave on your floor—even mr. glass left early—so you wait by the elevators alone. you hear the familiar ding and the doors open to reveal bruce wayne inside. he’s flipping through some pages in a manila folder when he looks up at you and smiles.

“hello,” he says pleasantly. “last one out?”

“yes, it’s just me.”

“what floor?”

“one, please.”

he presses the button, the button stating GF already glowing.

“thank you.”

the rest of the elevator ride is silent. bruce seems enveloped in this folder and you aren’t much of a talker anyways. the doors open and you start to exit the elevator, when bruce says,

“i’d like to start this project as soon as possible, monday.”

you stop and turn to face him. he’s smiling lightly and you smile back.

“that would be perfect. i’m very excited to start working on it.”

“i am as well. and i’m looking forward to working with you more closely too.”

“thank you bruce. i look forward to that as well.” and with that, the elevator doors close between you.

you smile again, thinking more about this job. but you realize you’re not just excited about the position, but the close proximity you’ll be working with bruce now. and how he said he’s looking forward to it.

you quickly dispel the thoughts from your mind. you’re frustrated at yourself for thinking of something so unprofessional. he was bruce wayne, for gods sake. your boss. any other notions needed to be eliminated, especially before starting this new position. you can’t afford something like that distracting you from doing your job and doing it well.

the weekend is spent with you primarily working on the project. you want everything ready to go and well-organized on monday. you want every detail planned out, to the tee. sunday night, you have all your folders, planners, binders, and other papers, all organized, sitting at the table by the door so you don’t forget them. you finally allow yourself to relax a minute before going to bed, so you draw a bath. you sit by the tub and watch it fill with the warm water, letting your mind wander. the rush of the water streaming out of the faucet provides the perfect white noise for you to get lost in a daydream. you think of this job, the company… bruce. when your mind starts to think of him, you let it stay on the thought. the thought of him, how nice he was to you during the meeting and afterwards. the elevator ride and his sweet goodbye. you think of his smile and you find yourself smiling too.

the sound of the water overflowing the tub jolts you out of your dream state.

“shit!”

you shut the faucet off and pull the plug on the tub drain to let the water go back down. you grab a few towels and try to mop the water up off the floor, leaving them in a wet pile by the door. you’re not feeling very relaxed anymore and don’t quite feel like a bath, but you’re not about to let this water go to waste. so, you slip your bathrobe off and slide into the water, grateful it’s still warm. you let out a sigh and close your eyes, trying to find serenity. again, your mind goes back to bruce. you can’t believe you’re allowing yourself to develop a crush on him. are you in elementary school? this is your boss, you can’t let these thoughts jeopardize this amazing career development.

you sit there for a while, until the water starts to cool down and your fingers start to prune. you get out of the tub and drain it, then grab your wet towels and bring them to the laundry room to wash. you take your robe off, the cold air stinging your naked body, and throw it in the washing machine too. you make a stop at the thermostat to turn it up as you make your way to your bedroom. you slip into pajamas and gingerly walk to the window and look out over the cityscape, the foggy night sky making it look spooky as ever. you allow yourself one last thought of bruce before you get into bed and fall asleep.

you wake up extra early monday morning and head straight to work. the ice has luckily been cleared a bit by gotham’s snow plows, but that doesn’t stop the traffic from forming. it’s okay, you gave yourself plenty of time to get there.

you get up to your floor almost an hour early and make a cup of coffee in the break room. at least one positive of coming in this early, no one’s using your mug.

you sit down at your desk and start running through your folder for the project, drinking your coffee until the mug is almost dry.

“good morning.”

you’re startled by a low voice behind you. it’s bruce.

“good morning bruce. you’re in early.”

“i could say the same to you.”

“i’m just ready to get started.”

“well great. we’ll get things started once everyone else gets in.” he points to your near-empty mug. “more coffee?”

“oh, sure. thank you.”

“how do you take it?”

“just black, please.”

bruce picks up your cup and takes it back to the conference room, his own mug in his other hand. he comes back with two steaming cups and sets yours back on your desk.

“thank you.” you say, picking it up and taking a sip.

“of course. so, how was your weekend?”

“it was good. mostly just working on this.” you pat your folder, gesturing to the project.

“i hope you were able to get some rest in too.”

“i was, yes. and you? how was your weekend?”

“oh, fairly uneventful. i spent most of it working as well.”

“well, i hope you were able to get some rest in too.” you say with a smile.

bruce smiles back

“i was, yes.”

the two of you continue talking at your desk as the first few members of your team start to trickle in.

when the rest of your team arrives, you and bruce all meet in the conference room to discuss strategies and begin the plans for this venture. it’s a productive day, with you sharing your thoughts on how to increase efficiency and bruce bouncing off your ideas. you realize you two work well together, your shared values and ideals harmonizing with each other to create a thought out and amazing plan. you start packing up feeling even more confident with this new position and you already cannot wait to keep going with it.

at the end of the day, bruce finds you again at the elevator, and this time the ride isn’t filled with awkward silence but with engaged conversation between colleagues.

“i enjoyed hearing about your plans to bring this project into gotham’s schools. your point about giving each classroom the proper curriculum via new technology was especially helpful.” bruce smiles at you and you can’t help but feel proud of yourself.

“thank you bruce. i think the whole team was able to work very well together and we made some great progress today.”

“i think so too.”

the elevator dings and the doors open to the garage.

“well, thank you again. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“see you tomorrow.” he says with a smile.

you walk towards your car with your back facing the elevator when you hear the doors close. and then footsteps coming up behind you.

bruce taps your shoulder.

“would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

you’re shocked at his question and, truthfully, your first instinct is to decline. he must sense your apprehension because he starts to backpedal on his question.

“if you have plans, or just don’t want to, i understand.”

“no… i would be happy to have dinner with you.”

“great. we can go down to my car if you’d like.”

“sure.” you say with a smile. as you follow behind him back to the elevator to go to the ground floor, you feel yourself blushing.

the two of you make it to the lobby and you realize how rarely you actually see this part of the offices, with your daily routine utilizing the parking garage every day since you started working here. bruce’s car is brought around front and he opens the passenger door for you to get in.

you make small talk as you drive to his home. you talk about work, how exciting the project is. you talk about the weather, how it’s nice that the ice is clearing. it’s a pleasant drive with bruce at the wheel. when you get to his home, bruce comes around and opens the car door for you again and you head up the steps to his front door. you enter into his insanely large home and are in awe of how just one person can inhabit so much space.

“good evening, master bruce. dinner is almost ready.” an older gentleman greets you two as you enter.

“this is alfred,” bruce introduces him. “he takes care of a some things around here.”

“i take care of everything around here. pleasure to meet you.” alfred offers a hand to shake.

“the pleasure is all mine, alfred.” you say with a chuckle.

“we can wait in the living room. i’ll start a fire.” bruce says.

alfred makes his way to the kitchen as you follow bruce to what you assume is one of multiple living rooms in the house. he puts some logs in and starts a fire in the almost-comically large fireplace then sits down next to you on the sofa.

“dinner smells delicious.” you say, filling the air with light conversation to accompany the crackle of the fire.

“alfred is an amazing cook. i’ve tried to learn from him but i suppose it just wasn’t in the cards for me.”

“i never really learned either. my mother was a great cook too. i wish she had been able to teach me… she passed when i was very young. that’s actually one of the few things i remember about her, her cooking.”

you don’t know why you suddenly started talking about your mother. it’s not exactly light fireside conversation.

“i’m sorry…” bruce says quietly.

“it’s okay. it was a long time ago, and my father and i were able to grow a lot closer over the years.”

“are you and your father still close?”

“he.. actually is gone too. he died of cancer a few years ago. losing my mother was hard, of course. but losing my dad… he was all i knew for so long. all we had was each other.” you start to feel yourself welling up, and you realize you’ve never talked about this with anyone else before.

bruce sits there quietly, and you try to fight the tears but when one falls, the others follow suit.

“i’m sorry…” you start as you try to wipe them away.

“don’t be.” bruce says quietly as he gently wipes a tear off your cheek. he lets his hand stay there, his thumb resting gently on your cheekbone.

you lock your eyes with his and just as you start to get your tears under control, bruce leans in and lightly kisses you. and though you know he’s your boss and you know it’s unprofessional… you don’t stop him. instead, you look at him, and then lean in yourself and kiss him back, stronger. the light of the fire casts dancing shadows across the two of you as you fall into each other on the ornate sofa. dinner has left your mind, work has left your mind, everything has left your mind. everything but him.

you continue kissing, passion growing more and more as the fire grows too. he’s unbuttoning your shirt and you’re taking off his jacket. shoes are kicked off and before it continues, he’s scooping you up with his arms under your knees and around your shoulders, carrying you up the stairs to what you assume is his bedroom. he opens the door and not-so gently puts you on the bed. he finishes undressing himself and then starts taking your clothes off too. he slides your pants down and off your legs and lifts your shirt off, leaving your arms laying above your head. you feel vulnerable, yet when he gets on top, you somehow also feel safe, it just all feels so right. this intensity, this passion, this craving you have for each other is more than you bargained for but also, somehow, everything you ever wanted.

you finish, bruce quick to follow. you only now start to think about how loud you must have been. you both lay there, catching your breath, sweating, and realize how fast the time has gone by. you’ve definitely missed dinner.

bruce finds you an oversized t-shirt and a pair of his boxers for you to wear. he finds a shirt for himself and slips a pair of sweatpants on. you and him make it back downstairs to find that alfred has stored your dinner in the fridge and left instructions on how to properly heat it up. you and bruce laugh at each other for not knowing how to work the stove as you stumble through alfred’s pointers, but you both finally manage to reheat the meal and go back to the living room to eat. with the fire burning its last embers, you and bruce eat your dinner under the low orange light by the fireplace. you talk about nothing yet about everything as you enjoy the delicious late-night dinner. bruce takes your plate to the kitchen and washes the dishes as you bask in the final warmth of the fire.

“i may not be able to cook,” bruce starts as he makes his way back to you. “but i at least know how to clean up after myself. alfred left another note saying to leave the dishes to him, but i figured i’d save him a few extra minutes.”

“how very kind of you.” you say, teasingly.

“well, i am extremely generous.” he says with a sarcastic tone.

you laugh and when he sits back down next to you, you pull him in and kiss him. he cradles your jaw in his palm and kisses you back, his thumb gently rubbing your temple. he pulls away and kisses your forehead. exhaustion gets the better of you and you yawn.

“you tired?” he says smiling.

“no, of course not. i’m as awake as ever, i could run a marathon.” if your sarcastic tone didn’t make it clear you were indeed tired, the second yawn surely did.

he chuckles and stands, taking your hand in his as he leads you back upstairs.

“i have a guest room if you want it, right there down the hall.” he says, pointing ahead.

you look down the hall then back up at him.

“or…”

he chuckles lightly and grabs your hand again, taking you back into his room. you get under the covers with him and he lays down on his back as you curl up next to him, resting your arm across his stomach and your head on his chest. his steady heartbeat and his gentle stroking of your arm lulls you quickly to sleep. as you lay there, seduced into a deep slumber by the warmth and comfort, you dream only of bruce.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

…………………………………………………………………………………….

[yukiokami]

my tears ricochet

treech x female 7th district reader

warnings: no use of y/n, third-person narrative, angst, headcanons (9th hunger games winner, treech's family), l-bombs, violence, deaths.

summary: she did everything to prevent him from losing her too, eventually losing him herself.

word count: 859

author's note: my first time writing on tumblr, i had a huge wave of inspiration after listening to sad songs and watching edits of treech. english is not my first language, so i apologize for any mistakes. this is a songfic to my tears ricochet by taylor swift. enjoy, loves.

her name was pulled. among hundreds of others. everything around her is in slow motion, she doesn't hear anything, doesn't see her mother's frightened eyes. she only notices treech's hand rising, he is now ready to volunteer, so she wouldn't be taken to the games. she manages to grab him with both hands and whispers, calming herself rather than him.

"it's going to be okay, i'll be fine, treech."

he shakes his head in disbelief. she can't leave him, leave her mom. die.

and she doesn't understand how she can cope. this is not a self-preservation instinct. it's an instinct to save those she cares about.

"listen, aspen is going to be with me. you can't come with me, please, i can't stand it if you die."

"i can't stand it if you die!" he repeats after her. "i can't lose you!" treech breaks down, despite the huge crowd.

burning tears flow down her cheeks, blurring the dirt on her face, and leaving long streaks.

"that's why i'm not going to die," she looks at him, reassuring. "i'm not going to die, treech. please take care of mom," she says when the peacekeepers grab her when they hold on to each other with the last of their strength.

cause I loved you, I swear I loved you

till my dying day

"i love you, okay? forever," their hands separate and soldiers drag the girl to the stage.

"let her go!" treech hisses, trying to fight the soldiers who are holding him tightly from running after her.

the doors close and she hears him scream.

we gather here, we line up,

weepin' in a sunlit room

when the counter counts down the seconds before the games begin, she can't think, there's a white noise in her head. there are no places to hide in the huge arena. here you can only fight and try to survive. she needs to survive because they are waiting for her at home. treech has no one but her. his parents died in a forest fire, as did her father.

and if I'm on fire,

you'll be made of ashes, too

she starts running towards the center with all her strength and grabs an axe, while two tributes attack two more. they die in seconds. she backs away and a guy from district 4 grazes her arm with a sword, trying to pierce it. she turns around and stabs him in the head with an axe.

the games lasted for several hours, the remaining three tributes, including her, are sitting on opposite sides of the arena, exhausted. aspen was killed by a girl from district 9.

and she's just waiting for the attack.

and so the battleships will sink beneath the waves

you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

this is not a victory, but a simple accident. but it doesn't matter now, because she's going home.

we gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean

some to throw, some to make a diamond ring

they are sitting by a small lake, throwing stones into it, which leaves circles, a month after the hunger games. they devote all their time to each other, and treech is insanely happy that she is with him, that she is alive. she didn't leave him.

"soon I'll earn a lot of money and buy us a house, and we will live there. just the two of us. and then I'll buy you a diamond ring and we'll get married," treech often voiced his thoughts, to which she always laughed and said that they would have to work very hard.

and when you can't sleep at night

(you hear my stolen lullabies)

at night, she was tormented by terrible nightmares that she was back in the arena, she was shaking and nothing could help but funny songs sung to her by her beloved lumberjack in a hat, wrapping her in a warm blanket by his embrace and words about how brave she is.

when his name is pulled at the next reaping, she can't breathe. this just can't be happening. they've been through so much together that they've been torn apart again. she's broken up by games. killed by the reaping. at that carefree time, treech guessed that such an outcome could take place, so he was ready. as much as it was possible.

"you were able to come back to me, and i will do everything to come back to you," he strokes her cheek with one hand, and with the other he puts a ring in her deathly cold ones. "i love you."

the peacekeepers take him away.

she falls to her knees and a frantic scream pierces the entire square.

when the neighbors talk about tributes returning, she joyfully runs to meet treech, confident of his victory. there are two coffins at the square, in one of which lies lamina, and in the other her brave beautiful boy. he didn't come back to her.

you know I didn't want to have to haunt you

but what a ghostly scene

you wear the same jewels that I gave you

as you bury me

[lesbicosmos]

rewatching s1 of broadchurch even tho im halfway through my first watch of s3 because i have an obsession with rewatching things and DAMN there are way more hints at who ended up being the killer than i originally thought, and a bunch of moments that are really ironic in hindsight

spoilers under the cut (yes it came out like 10 years ago but im still putting a spoiler warning)

ep1 - joe and ellie talk in the kitchen after hardy makes the statement to the media

joe: do you know what happened? i mean should we be worried for other kids?

on first watch, his tone of voice and body language here just seem like confused and worried parent, but on second, there's definitely a hint of panic in his voice

ep2 - joe, tom and fred in the cafe

joe: this is a terrible, unspeakable thing thats happened. but nothing like it will ever happen again here

tom: you cant know that though can you? you cant be sure

then after this joe's facial expression looks SO guilty like he can't think how to respond

ep3 - hardy questioning tom with joe in the room

hardy: can you think of anyone who would want to hurt danny?

THEN THE CAMERA IMMEDIATELY CUTS TO JOE. ik near the end joe swears he never wanted to hurt him but this is still a rly clever piece of editing, i love when shows do this. also the fact that in every scene where he's questioning tom, joe's in the room and occasionally talks but he's never in the frame of the camera hardys using to record it. he was literally right under their noses the entire time and they never suspected because they were focused on other people too much

ep4 hardy goes to the millers" for dinner

this scene hits so much different on second viewing holy shit. at one point they're talking about marriage and work and how hardy's divorce was partially work-related and:

hardy: this job, it does it to you

ellie: well, not to us

ellie actually makes me sob she loves her life so much then it all just comes crashing down on her

joe: do you think you're gonna solve this case?

hardy: certain.

joe: good :)

joe's reply itself here makes sense but there's a few seconds before he says it where his face is just blank and mildly panicked. he's genuinely worrying about being caught at this point.

now this one isn't a direct hint or anything but just if you think about the dialogue in a different context...yeah it fits

hardy: you bloody liar

joe: ive said nothing

hardy: and yet-

joe said nothing to the police or ellie and yet was lying the WHOLE time.

ep5 - brian asks ellie out

ellie: sorry, im married

brian: and thats an issue is it?

ellie: happily married, brian

brian: oh. okay, fair enough. only lots of people aren't though, are they?

ellie: i am.

THE IRONY OH ELLIE LET ME GIVE YOU A HUG PLEASE

ep6 - jack's wake

ellie spends the whole scene looking around to see if anyone looks worried, at one point she looks into a room (seemingly at nige but joe is stood nearby having a different conversation) and she makes eye contact with joe RIGHT as the camera cuts away

ep 6 - joe takes tom to the skate park and ellie arrives

ellie: i was just looking round that bar at the wake thinking "its someone here, why cant i see it?" the longer this goes on, im starting to suspect everyone

joe: when you say everyone...

ellie: well, nearly everyone

this is probably the most obvious hint that i can't believe i didn't catch on to. of COURSE they're gonna make a point for the killer to be the ONE person ellie LITERALLY SAYS she isn't suspicious of.

ep7 - ellie lets susan leave the police station

ellie (about susan's past with her husband and daughters): in your own house, how could you not know?

just ow. the irony of it all. fucking ow.

[shygirl4991]

Coffee Prince and The Frog Chapter 1 Dreams and Voodoo

A Collab with @lizaluvsthis and @alianarepasa Art used on this chapter by Alianarepasa

Last Chapter Next Chapter Summary: SMG3 is a busboy with a dream to run his own cafe, he slaves away at his friends restaurant in hopes to save enough to open his cafe. But when a talking frog named SMG4 asks for a kiss to break a curse placed on him, the two will end up going on  a journey that will change their lives forever. 

Tags: slow burn, inspired by Disney princess and the frog, love confessions, falling in love, animal transformation, adopted family relationship, fluff, angst, voodoo

SMG3 sneaks into the mansion drain from a long day of work, the fangirls didn't make his way home any easier with them waiting for the royals to come out. He slips into his room, locking the door and pulling out the floorboards where he had a safe hiding. He enters the password, opening it and tossing his tips in it. Standing up he stretches before fixing his messy ponytail, staring at his reflection he lets out a soft chuckle “Almost time Three,” he takes out his drawing of his dream cafe and places it next to a photo of him and his mother.

He lets out a sigh “Just you watch mom, i will find my path just like you wanted and i won't let nothing stop me.” he was exhausted, he knew working a job would be draining but with the place he works at he wasn't sure if the labor was draining him or the people that came in. He throws himself on the bed to drain to change his clothes, he slowly starts to drift to sleep. In his dream he saw a woman giggling as she hugged him “Hey there my lil Tadpole, ready for today's adventure?” he nods as the woman lets out a smirk and points at the door “Good! Remember no obstacle can stop you, if you have a goal in mind fight for it. Now let's go and save your brother from your father, the man just doesnt get poor Mario’s humor.”

Three wakes up letting out a groan, he looks at the time as he sits up “Another dream about mom…” it was morning already meaning he needed to get ready for another shift. He showers and gets dressed in a fresh pair of overalls, he then puts on his purple coat. He kisses Eggdog and leaves his hat behind after all he didn't want anything to happen to it when working, not to mention it would out him for being part of an important family given it has his logo on it. As he grew older he learned how to sew and using this knowledge he would fix and edit his hat with different logos till he found the one. It wouldn't be him without his iconic skull but in addition to the skull he decided to put the design his baby basket had, it was an up arrow. He wasn't sure what it meant to his biological parents,he just had  something inside of him tell him it was important and fused the two together.

He hums as he sneaks out of the house with the pack lunch Luigi made him, it was a pain for Three to always sneak in and out of the house thanks to his father he had no other choice. The moment he hit twenty his father became obsessed with keeping Three more at the mansion, of course his father knew he could try his hardest but it wont stop him from finding a way out of the house. Now if his father found out he was working a normal job, he was pretty sure the man would drop dead and Mario would be in charge of the family. He sighs “Having that fatass brother of mine run the house would be the end for sure,” he mumbles to himself as he heads off to work. 

He hums, taking out his journal and writing down his notes. He was lost in writing his thoughts; he didn't notice he was catching the attention of men and women around him. A girl slowly approaches him only to be pushed away by a tall male with a flower, before he can make his move Three slams his journal shut and speed walks to his workplace. 

He speeds past a table catching the attention of the owner of the small stand, the man with a TV for a head turns staring at Three walking away. The screen flickers showing a huge smile “Red eyes…how familiar,” before the man could think more, his eyes catch Bootleg in his car driving by. The screen on the man's head flickers showing an angered face “HIM,” the whispers from the nearby televisions remind him all too well of what he has to do. 

As Bootleg keeps driving he passes by a crowd of people screaming in excitement as Prince SMG4 gets off the boat. He removes his royal outfit to show off his casual wear, fixing his vest he walks past his fans giving out autographs. Depresso follows, struggling to carry the luggage that Four brought with him, he trips and falls causing Four to giggle as he helps him up. Depresso glares at the group of women trying to impress the young prince, if only they knew the truth about the prince after all his one true love is memes. The clown butler swears the only thing in the prince's mind is memes, he watches as the Prince winks at the women and shows them his videos on his phone. 

“Need i remind you that you're here to find a wife not to share your videos,” he said flatly at the man. SMG4 pouts giving his best puppy eyes at Depresso “Come on you know i don't care about marriage, i want to be free and make memes can't i share some for now?”

“No,” with that the clown picks up the luggage and starts walking. Four sighs walking alongside him occasionally waving and giving a charming smile at the women around them. He leans closer to Depresso “Come on Depresso, i know what my parents said in their will and testament but do i have to get married. All i need is my laptop and memes, adding another person just complicates things.” 

Four frowns at the fact Depresso kept walking ignoring his complaints, they pass by a restaurant where his eyes get glued to a man standing outside of it. He freezes staring at the waiter. Three turns and his eyes meet with four, the prince walks up to him “Want to see my memes?” Three rolled his eyes and walked into his workplace making Four chuckle “What a strange person.” 

“Four get a move on!” Depresso was getting sick of how the prince has been acting since he arrived.

As Four runs up to Depresso he misses someone watching them from around the corner, the TV man chuckles as he watches Four and Depresso walk away from the restaurant. He was thankful he followed the pair, that moment Mario and Luigi arrived at the restaurant in their overalls trying to hide their status. Seeing the hats on their heads was enough for the Man to know who those twins were supposed to be, an idea grew as he slipped away chasing the prince and his butler.

SMG3 was pouring coffee then serving a meal to different tables, Meggy smiles at Three “You're always working so hard, you should join us for a paintball fight come on it's been forever!” Three sighs as he picks up dirty plates from an empty table “Meggy you know I can't do that, I need to save for my cafe and it's hard enough working here thanks to my father being a pain in the ass.” She frowns after finishing her pancakes “A little bit of fun didn't hurt anyone Three!”

He ignores her as he walks to the back, Mario and Luigi walk in excited to see their brother. Mario dashes to the counter “GREG GET THREE!!”

Three freezes and turns hearing his brother screaming, he turns to Greg as the man giggles and points to the door. With a nod he leaves his tray and walks out to his brothers, he never did understand how his co worker Greg earned the title of most talkative he never heard the man speak once. He walks up to his brothers and gets pulled into a hug by Luigi “AHH Bro guess what's happening?” he blushes trying to wiggle out of the hug as he thinks over what could have his brother in such a mood. Mario chuckles seeing the interaction “Mario gave the crown to Luigi!” Three pauses and stands up straight in the hug looking at Luigi “Wait…Lui you're going to be the next Leader of the kingdom?!” 

He nods excitedly, hearing the news SMG3 smiles brightly hugging his brother back “Holy shit that's amazing!”

Greg slides a box on the counter catching Marios attention, he opens it to see several plates of spaghetti. He takes out one of the plates and excitedly eats it. “Mario doesn't care about romance, never got those feelings.” The brothers pulled away from the hug then gave Mario a pat on his back supporting his choice. Luigi then started to get nervous, catching Three’s attention, he gave him a look making his brother say “Dad is going to host a grand ball…to announce me as next head of family, he even invited the Prince SMG4!” 

Three didn't like where the talk was going, he took a step back waiting for the ball to fall. “Dad says you have to be a part of it and I want you with us bro its a big moment for me please?” He takes his hand and gives him puppy eyes. He could feel his power to fight leave him the longer he stared, with a sigh he nodded “Fiiiine, I will wear the stupid royal shit and be there. BUT! I'm not going to talk to that loser SMG4, you can have him.” Luigi smiles brightly “Whahoooo!”

“I also ask you to do something for me, if i have to deal with the royals you have to deal with the poor side of town. I just got the last tip I needed to place bets on my future cafe. You two are coming. I need the backup in case someone tries to start shit again!” Last time he attempted to bet on a location he was robbed of his money and was laughed at,  he then ended up getting in a fight and got taken to jail to be held for twenty four hours. How awkward was it for Bootleg to walk to a police station and demand his son to be let out all because he got in a fight for a location, the plus side to that whole fight they didn't lay a hand on him best victory he had in years. With the group in agreement they said their goodbye to Bob and Greg as they head out to battle for the cafe location. 

SMG3 bounces around excitedly. “This is happening, I can't wait to slam this money down and take home the prize,” he lets out a chuckle that Mario swears could be mistaken for a villain cackle. SMG3 charges at the door with his brothers running after him “Surprise bitch!” he slams the cash on the counter smirking at Chris. He picks up the cash only for it to be taken by his co-worker Swag who counts the money with hearts in his eyes, with a sigh Chris grabs papers from his desk “Well you made it in time, i will get the paperwork rea-” he gets stopped by his partner. Swag stares at them “CHRIS WAIT HOW DO WE KNOW THAT THIS BUILDING WON'T BE ANYTHING SUSPICIOUS?” 

Three scoffs “Are you serious right now?” Luigi, seeing the man getting agitated, grabs his arm to make sure he wouldn't go flying for a fight.  Chris nods, thinking over what his partner said. Normally his partner would say something idiotic that made him question their friendship for once Swag had a point “To be safe SMG3 we will look into your background.”

Three’s face goes pale “Ah wait! Can i just sign it and you keep an eye on me for a week see i'm just your normal guy?” Chris sighs, shaking his head making SMG3 heart sink, Mario seeing his brother upset walks up to the pair “Hey stinky’s my bro here worked his ass off to get this cafe, getting up everyday to work at a rat infested restaurant give him a break!” 

“We have rules for a reason!” Chris was starting to be done with the crew, Swag hearing the story felt touched “LET THEM HAVE IT, I REMEMBER A TIME I WORKED AT A RAT INFESTED RESTAURANT.”  his partner blinked “Are you serious?” Being done with the whole talk Chris lets out a long sigh “I will make sure everything is together and we will sign it later.” 

SMG3 smiles as he watches the pair leave, he smacks Marios arm being overwhelmed with joy. This is it the cafe will be his and his mother will be proud of the hard work he did, they walk inside the building to see what work would need to be done. He looks around noting where he would place his bombs at, where he would put Eggdog plushies because who wouldn't want cute animal plushies. Mario sits at one of the abandoned tables and starts to smack it “Spaghetti!” 

Three sighs walking up to Mario “We won't be making spaghetti Mario it's a cafe not a restaurant.” Before the pair could get into a pasta related fight Luigi squeaks out “Maybe now you can find romance!” SMG3 crosses his arms “Bro i dont have time for romance, i know mom said finding your other half is amazing but im busy for it!” He pulls out the dusty curtains making him cough “That's just gonna have to wait a while.”

Luigi Frowns “How long are we waiting?” 

He shrugs “I don't have time for messing around, it's just not my style,” he takes out his drawing smiling as Luigi walks up to him worried “I just want to see you happy.” He sighs stepping away from Luigi as he starts picking up trash “Lui you know this kingdom likes to keep people down making them take the easy way but that's not me cause i know where i'm going and it's to the top baby! After all, I'm getting closer everyday, and I'm almost there.” He gently touches the drawing in his hand, he was determined to see this though he spent years working for this and nothing will get in his way. Luigi looks down worried that his brother was going to work himself to death. 

SMG4 was dancing around getting himself ready for the party he had to go to, he wondered if the party was some sort of trap to get him to meet his future wife. He hums to himself trying to relax and not let the fear get to him, coming up with a fun idea he grabs Depresso surprising the clown. SMG4 giggles as he spins Depresso they both end up losing balance falling in a dark alleyway, the prince then hears footsteps causing him to look up. There a man in a fancy suit with a TV for a head stood there, the channels changed until a face appeared with a huge smile. “Gentlemen, do I have a deal for you!” He then politely offers a hand to help the prince up. Once up the man takes out a card and hands it to the prince “I go by many names TV man, Puzzlevision heck even Wiston! So please call me what you wish.” 

SMG4 eyes light up looking at the card with fascination “It says here you can make dreams come true!” as Four keeps reading the card the TV man wraps an arm around his shoulder to guide the prince and Depresso who was following to the TV lair.

Once they made it to his lair the TV man bowed. “I'm a man who loves to make sure all dreams come true and I feel I'm in the presence of royalty. What kind of man would I be if I didn't help your dreams come true!” 

The TV man opens the door for them. Depresso rolls his eyes “This place looks cheap,” the TV man screen flickers showing an annoyed expression “Don’t you disrespect me, little man!” The screen flickers again, showing the man smiling as he gets close to Depresso “You’re in my world now, not your world and I got friends on the other side.”

They walk in the building to hear whispers in the shadows, SMG4 starts to shake, feeling nervous from the atmosphere of the room. Noticing this the TV man wraps his arms around the young prince “That’s an echo, gentlemen just a little something we have here in the Fiore di Fuoco  kingdom, a little parlor trick don't worry!”  Four nods doing his best to relax from the strange voices they heard walking in. Depresso just sighs as he takes the Prince's hand following the TV Man to the center of the room. “Sit down at my table and put your minds at ease, If you relax it will enable me to help you reach your dreams!” the screen flickers again showing a series of tarot cards. 

SMG4 eyes go wide in amazement seeing the cards before the man went back to the smiling face, he claps turning the light on in the room capturing both of the men's attention “I can read your future,” he chuckles “i could change it round some to, I’ll look deep into your heart and soul!” Staring at the young prince he could see how gullible the man is, living the life of royalty made him sheltered the perfect soul for his friends. He turns to look at Depresso surprised to see his soul was more tightly locked, those were the fun ones to break “You do have a soul don't you Depresso?” The clown butler was surprised by the question and looked nervously side to side. 

He takes out tarot cards “Take three boys, lets see what your past, present and future look like!”

SMG4 took three cards and placed them on the table, the picture on the card started to move, surprising the Prince “A sad story for you I see, your parents died in a car accident leaving you all alone. Now you have to get married to rule the kingdom they left behind but good news for you I see green freedom in your future!” he turns to Depresso handing him the cards. Nervous, he picks three cards and places them down. The TV man chuckles as the cards flicker changing the story, Depresso looks up surprised. “Wow you had such a normal life to then get a child thrown at you, don't worry about your future i see you finally reaching your goal!” Depresso’s eyes went wide, nodding at the words he was saying.

The TV man walks up to them and smiles “I can make your dream of freedom, and your dream of reaching your goal real. All you have to do is shake my hand!” the face on the screen smiles as both men take his hand and shake it. He starts to laugh as rope appears tying SMG4 “What?! What's going on?!”  The TV man laughs as he opens the curtains showing a black red box, he opens it to take out a necklace “Transformation Central!” He steps away from the box as he gets close to Four who is trying to break free. The TV man grabs Four’s hand and pricks it, the necklace gets filled with his blood. 

SMG4's eyes go wide as a green fog covers his body, suddenly the room starts to get bigger as the TV man and Depresso start laughing together. He landed on the floor looking around and noticing something off, his hands were blue and webbed. He screams seeing his body was blue he runs to a cup on the floor to see his reflection “I'm A FROG?!” TV Man walks up to the Prince picking him up and tossing him in a jar. Depresso smirks at him “I have waited years to get rid of you, now the best part is I can be you.” he puts the necklace on, a green fog starts to cover the man. Once it clears SMG4 was staring at himself, depresso laughs as he leaves the room with the TV man leaving him alone in an unknown place stuck in a jar. 

[little-worm-grant]

Steven's pov: Oh Sausages

692 words / Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: Some lighthearted scatterbrained memories from the mind of Steven Grant and his formative years. Lunchtime edition.

Previously: Steven's pov: Happy Simple Normal Life (Not a necessary read)

Tags: Childhood Memories, Comfort, Fluff, Developing Friendship

The room was abuzz with the noise of conversations going on all around him. Steven didn’t focus on any, or anyone really. Too upset to be paying attention. Even if his favorite pastime was eavesdropping and pretending to be part of a conversation. Today he just wasn’t feeling it.

Staring down at his lunch tray brought back that queasy feeling. In front of him sat eight of the greasiest sausages he’d ever seen and a hamburger beside it. A handful of ketchup packets seemingly sprinkled around like they’d been tossed into the mix. He couldn’t remember picking out any of this stuff, and if he had he’d clearly been on one too many cold medications as of late.

Another boy sat beside him. His words startled him out of his own head. “Sup?”

Steven glanced up at him, unsure why he’d been picked. He didn’t have it in him to ask. “Think they’d let me change my dinner?”

“What’s wrong with your sausages?”

“I don’t really like eating meat.”

“Since when? Every day I’ve seen you pick up as many sausages as they’d let you. I’ve started to think you’re turning into one.”

“I’m not!” He bit back. Realizing he couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat in the lunch hall and did this. Maybe he did eat sausages? His shoulders slumped. “I saw a video about what they do to the pigs. I don’t think I wanna eat meat anymore.”

“Oh.” His companion said. “Well here. Let’s switch. I never have enough for those burgers.”

The other tray was pushed his way. A fruit cup and some veggie sticks looked more tempting than his own tray. Steven didn’t go for anything immediately. Hands under the table pushed his thumbs together a little harder.

“Why are you being so nice?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean like. You don’t know me. But you’re giving me your food.”

“We see each other most lunches? I know you used to like sausages and you socked Tom for messing with me that one time. Good enough for me.”

The boy took his tray and used the plastic knife to start splitting the sausages to put on the burger. Using the packets of ketchup to add on top. Steven had to look away. Instead, he focused on the other tray. Picking up one of the baby carrots to toss in his mouth. He was starving. He pried open the sandwich to check what was in that.

“Oh, don’t eat that, it’s ham. You can pick it off though. Make a carrot sandwich or something.”

“A carrot sandwich.” Steven snorted and smiled a little more.

Lunch went down way better than he could have ever imagined. He’d never had anyone try to befriend him before. They talked about anything and nothing. He didn’t eat the sandwich but the fruit and vegetables should be enough to get him through the rest of the day.

Learned his friend had an annoying little sister and he wanted Steven to come to his house and help him with his chores. That involved eating as many raspberries as he wanted while they berry-picked, so he was definitely going to beg his parents to let him go. By the end of it, the lunch hall was looking much emptier and staff were starting to pack up. The bell rang and his friend got up to leave first.

“Good talk. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake. Don’t miss me too much.”

“Yeah? I mean uh- yeah. Sure thing, sausage boy. Laters gators.” Steven said quickly, getting a laugh. Offering a quick wave before taking both their trays to the cleaning station.

He felt too awkward to have spent a whole lunch with the other kid to correct him now. Didn’t even know his name. It wasn’t like names were a big deal. People got his name mixed up all the time. Could have called him Bob and he’d have answered to it. He felt far lighter in his walk back to class. Excited for the rest of his day. Most of all, he couldn’t wait to go home and tell his mom and dad everything.

[isa-loves-you]

How you meet and realizing you like them | The group chat.

I love the GC and I like reading Fics about them, so I want to contribute. This is my first-time doing publishing on Tumblr, so it probably won't be the most organized. I am open to criticism or requests. I desperately need guidance.

This is going to be broken up into different parts because this was originally almost 5,000 words but tumbler will only let me post so much at a time.

-Isaac-

you had met isaac back in 2020 when you and some friends decided to go into discord servers and expose pedos. your friend had told you to hop on a server thinking it was with creeps but ended up being a couple of people doing the same thing as you. you all had a laugh and traded information on which servers had what type of weirdos were in. After that night you and isaac had messaged each other here and there about being in his discord videos which you had no problem with due to want to collab with other youtubers, and some years later asked you to be apart of a group with him and your guys mutual friends called the group chat.

Sometime had passed and you, isaac, tanner, larry, nick, yumi, and grunk all made a podcast and even moved into one big house all together. You had decided to stream watching random videos on the internet and just generally talk with chat. " I know that we've been watching meme comps chat but we need to add some spice to our night or I feel empty handed when I end the stream.... well besides leaving with your hard earned money that you donated i'll be empty handed". After saying that everyone started to type anything and everything that came to their minds, but something caught your eye "Have you or isaac read the fic about yall??" you said reading the chatter's comment. You immediately start googling for what this insane person was talking about, and after muttering to yourself about why isaac and you of all people out of the group you find it. "I'm sorry to chat but i need to know and besides one of you recommend it" you start reading it out loud. The story read of you and Isaac slowly falling for each other. "Chat who made this, I want you to reveal yourself so you can be shunned from the village" you bursted out with laughter at some of the parts in the fic but you had to admit, this author knew too much. yeah it's true that you started to like isaac but you knew nothing could ever happen because you work together but you have to admit he had a nice physic and was extremely funny, but still nothing could ever happen. After 30 more minutes of stream you decided to end the stream because you were getting too red from laughter and embarrassment from the fic; you said goodnight to your viewers and thought that no harm would come from a fan's artwork about you and your friend. turns out you were wrong. The next day you were bombarded with fan accounts and edits of you and isaac from past videos. you're scrolling through some of the comments of the edits and something catches your eye.

Isaacwhy?: Damn you guys are trying to manifest something fr ;))

you couldnt believe what you just read; Did he really like you too?, how long has he liked you?, what would the others think?, could you two be together?. Your mind was left with a lot of questions but you had come to terms with it. You like Isaac.

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-Nick [soft willey]-

you had been making music since you were five when your parents got you a fisher price piano. you've just fell in love with your hobby and wanted to make a career out of it, that's when you decided to put your name out there as a singer/rapper. You didn't have a voice like sza but it was good enough to make a living off of it, and it was better when you would pair it with your genius lyrics. It was a nice Sunday afternoon when your music producer Kenny called you to come into the studio and that there as some people, he wanted you to meet and collab with. you had seen that your producer was in the booth with three dudes and a camera? Your producer has seen you looking through the booth glass and gestured for you to come in and met the people he was talking to. There was a tall guy with a hat, sunglasses, and a black mask, there was a shorter guy with shoulder length hair that was pointing everywhere. The two guys were pretty good looking but the third piqued your interest; he was around 5 '10 with a nice build, it was very obvious that he spent his time at the gym. “This is y/n they are in the same business as you three” your producer presented with a big smile on his face. “It's really nice to meet you, Kenny convinced us that you would sound the best on our new single” you shook the gym guy's hand noticing the tattoo of a long spiky line wrapping around his arm. You got so distracted looking at the guy's arm and everything else he had that you didn't hear your producer calling your name “y/n you can't let go of nicks hand now i think he knows you now” you dropped nicks hand realizing how long you just held his hand without him saying anything. “All right let's get to work people, isaac would you be a doll and do your verse first so y/n can get the flow of the song and see what they need to do”. 

It took the whole day for you guys to actually record the song. With larry making funny faces while the nick and isaac where in the middle of their verses and make them laugh so you would have to start back from the beginning then you would issue were either you or the others would have a hard time saying a word right or you went faster or slower than the beat then it was start back at square one. A miracle had happened; you all got through the song with no hiccups and were able to send it out to an editor for some final touches. You had grabbed your stuff and walked out to your car so you could finally go home and let your dog out. You almost got to your car when your arm was grabbed, you wiped your head around so fast to see who you were going to have to beat the shit out of. “I'm so sorry i shouldn't have grabbed like i was going to kidnap you or something but i was shouting your name but you just kept on walking” Thank God it was just nick and not some creep. “oh no no you're okay i was just surprised is all, so whats up?” “I was wondering if i could get your number or maybe your insta so you could be a feature on some of our future stuff, you were awesome like kenny said and i want to keep you around”. It was nothing but two seconds of silence before Nick took back his words “i didn't mean it like that i just mean like your killer and it would be great if you got to do more with me…..not with just me just in general with music. Fuck you get what im trying to say right” “yeah i get what you mean” you said breaking a smile to make him feel less embarrassed “here just put your number and insta in, so we can do more stuff”. He took your phone for a minute to put all is information and handed it back to you with a puppy dog like smile. Dog? “OH, SHIT RALPH” you had forgotten about your poor baby at home “I'm sorry Nick but I have to go!” nick had tried to say something, but you were already in the car and backing out of your parking spot. ‘Whose ralph?’ nicked thought as he watched you leave the building “NICK GET YO UGLY ASS IN THE CAR I WANT TO GO HOME” Larry shouted hanging out the back of the car window. Nick spent the whole night trying to find a ralph in your following list on Instagram, but he had no luck and decided that he didn't care who your mystery man was he was better than this ‘ralph’ character and that he was going to win you over.

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