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#I Love My Kids A Stupid Amount: Here They Are Again
piplupod · 7 months
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one of the cashiers at the grocery store i go to is so fucking fixated on shoplifters and it drives me crazy any time i check out through him (i try to avoid him but his checkout is often the most open/empty - hm! i wonder why! - and im often on a tight schedule w the bus). he brings up shoplifters every opportunity he gets and he seems so convinced that theyre a huge problem.
BUT WHAT REALLY GETS ME ,,, is that today the customer in front of me was needing a price check on one of the items bc it should've come out to be cheaper, so he was kind of apologetic abt it and saying "ah well, yknow, six dollars is six dollars, especially with how expensive groceries are right now" and i was nodding and agreeing (trying to show that i dont mind the wait and also solidarity my guy good for u for speaking up and getting the price fixed on that) AND THE CASHIER AGREES. FULLY ACKNOWLEDGES AND BEMOANS THE FACT THAT GROCERIES ARE CRAZY RN. AND THEN GOES ON TO COMPLAIN ABOUT SHOPLIFTERS. HUH ??????
so you agree that groceries are unreasonably expensive... and that sometimes ppl can't afford them... and yet ....................
#HE MAKES ME SO FUCKING ANGRY CMONNNN THINK ABOUT IT DUDE....#i knew him in highschool (small town things lol) and im pretty sure he was one of those kids who thought cops were really cool. so. yknow.#not surprised. just annoyed fdjkl#i would say smth like ''oh does ur paycheque get docked if shoplifters come thru or smth?'' but i dont want to piss him off#i would like to remain civil with the cashiers here bc its the only grocery store i can get to most of the time fdsjkl#but like. i would love to find out why he hates shoplifters so much#when i worked at DQ in highschool and ppl stole dilly bars or FULL CAKES... i did not give a single shit#even though the managers and boss would get kind of angry at us (but they knew we couldnt do anything abt it really lmao)#and then we had to put locks on the customer-facing freezers which was a hassle for us#AND STILL. I NEVER FELT ANGRY AT THE SHOPLIFTERS. BECAUSE WHATEVER DUDE LIFE IS EXPENSIVE GO GET THAT ICE CREAM!!!#also i was not paid enough to care LMFAO and i know for a fact that this cashier isn't paid enough either bc my brother used to work there#I DUNNO DUDE. HONESTLY I HAVE MAD RESPECT FOR SHOPLIFTERS#i've potentially done it a few times and its fucking terrifying esp w the amount of cameras installed now fdsjkl#i dont do it now even though i need to more than ever bc i was making myself sick every time i possibly did it#i'd get home and sit in the bathroom for an hour trying to make sure i wasnt about to throw up from the stress fdsjkl#also it was stupid to do honestly (but . needed. so yknow.) bc again. i dont have any other options for accessible grocery stores really#ANYWAYS. fuck that cashier i hope he realizes what a little narc he's being and gains some class consciousness or smth idk#all for one and one for all etc etc etc we're all in this together my guy#pippen needs 2nd breakfast
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cheesiedomino · 7 months
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Second Chances ꙳ ੭ * ‧
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synopsis: your old situationship from many years ago just moved back in town and of course, he has to text you. but it’s not just any normal text — he’s asking you out on a proper date this time. will you give a second chance to Cupid? or will you be left here feeling stupid?
genre: lee minho x fem!reader | exes (??) to lovers wc: 4.6k tags/warnings: fluff, some light angst, slightly suggestive but nothing srs, mild cursing, kissing, small mentions of crying T-T
now playing 🎧: from the start by laufey
[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]
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“Why don’t you give Tinder a try already? I’m sick of hearing you nagging all day about being lonely!” Areum abruptly suggests mid-convo , resting her palm on the side of her face.
As you both casually wait for the food to arrive, you end up on the dreadful topic of dating again. You got into a real heated discussion with her, sitting in a booth at this new restaurant one of your coworker’s recommended. It wasn’t super well known but they wouldn’t stop raving about how delicious their breadsticks were. The place wasn’t too jam packed but definitely had a decent amount of people. What you weren’t anticipating on was seeing dozens of couples here, it kind of threw your whole vibe off since it only reminded you of your current sad relationship status. Maybe you were putting far too much thought into it but everything seemed so highly unfair. Glaring in envy while they all happily rub in your face that they’ve found their forever companion.
Life really can be cruel at times.
“You can’t be for real right now..” you instantly side eye your friend from across the table. Feeling personally triggered whenever she mentions online dating. You refuse to try it, never wanting to partake in such a vain concept where you swipe left and right based solely on looks. “That’s not the same as real romance. I want to meet someone naturally, wanna tell my kids when they grow up how I met their dreamy, hunk of a father in aisle 39 at Whole Foods.”
One could say it’s almost pathetic in a way— this burning desire you harbor within, longing for a pure, quaint, and beautiful love. Constantly catching yourself daydreaming about finding your life partner, the person you’re going to marry and possibly create an eternal family with. That day has yet to come unfortunately, but you still hold onto the thought of you someday meeting the one.
You thought you found them before, but thou shalt not speak thy names out into existence.
“Well, good luck finding ‘real romance’ in the big age of 2024-” Areum snorts in amusement, taking a pause to sip on her mango strawberry lemonade. “I need whatever drugs you’re on that’s making you this delulu so I can fantasize about my knight and shining armor that’s never coming!”
God you hate that word. Delulu. Why are you suddenly “delusional” for wanting a picture perfect romance? It doesn’t need to be perfect per se, but you want to feel adored, swept off your feet and embraced like the true queen you are. Was that too much to ask? Considering the current state of dating in this day and age, it might just be.
“I mean, let’s face it girl. You literally don’t know the first thing about love ___, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows like in the K-dramas y’know! Haven’t you only had like one boyfriend in high school? You barely even dated that guy for a month-”
“That’s because he dumped me to go move to LA and become a dumb YouTuber!” You snapped back, cutting her off to get all the facts straight.
It was hard not to grimace while thinking of such old memories. Dating a Minecraft streamer definitely had to be one of the most embarrassingly cringe choices you’ve ever made.
“Whatever that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to get at here is you don’t have the best track record when it comes to men. Remember that other guy you were seeing before we graduated? I thought y’all would’ve dated for sure but he turned out to be a dickhole just like the rest of ‘em…” Areum shakes her head in disbelief, recalling all those times you’d call in a frenzied panic about things not working out.
“What was his name again? Min… Minwoo? No, that’s not it.. it was definitely Min something.” She attempts on remembering but keeps drawing a blank.
“Minho.” You answer almost instantaneously. His name still rolled off the tongue smooth as velvet.
It felt weird though. Saying it out loud after so many years of blocking it from your immediate vocabulary. A name you thought would never escape your lips again.
“Damn, you really still think about him don’t you?” She dares to ask, knowing how difficult it is for you to even talk about this anymore.
You only respond by nodding slowly, unable to bring yourself to look at her. It was far too intense; bearing the emotions of hurt and guilt from a past fling that meant more to you but nothing to the other. That’s how most of your tragic stories end— always too overly into them while they barely reciprocate any of that energy towards you. The thing is, you thought Minho actually liked you, even so far as wanting to date in the near future. Considering he brought you over his parent’s house (to hook up of course), and though you didn’t meet them you still think that meant something. Most men don’t just bring any woman they’re seeing to their parent’s place without somewhat thinking a potential relationship could happen down the line.
“So that’s why you should download Tinder and start swipin’ on some other cuties! It’ll at least distract you for a bit and get your mind off that asswipe,” Areum pitches her idea once more, “there’s plenty other fish in the sea ___. Not everyone online is some crazy serial killer, plus you clearly don’t seem to be having much luck out in the real world.”
You wanted to jump up from the table and erase that smirk from her face but instead you roll your eyes at that last remark. “I don’t need those shitty dating apps. I’m very capable of finding someone in real life for your information!” You quickly retort as a means to defend yourself. Even though she did have a point, her delivery could’ve been a little bit nicer.
It’s not easy being a hopeless romantic, you can’t help but yearn for that special someone to enter your life and change it for the better. You won’t feel wholly satisfied nor complete until you do. The sad reality of the matter was that you are still painfully single. No one’s interesting enough to cease your attention, let alone go on any actual dates. Areum’s had enough of your bitching and whining though, there’s only so many rants and tirades she can keep listening to about your vicious hatred for men before she loses it completely. Your nonexistent love life has become more of a nuisance as that time of year approaches— Valentine’s Day. A god forsaken holiday you’ve always loathed with a passion. Wanting nothing more than to be one of those girls on the receiving end getting flowers and chocolates. A day full of the utmost joy and pleasant surprises from your loving significant other.
Must be nice..
Speaking of surprises.. The buzzing in your ear echoes from your phone pinging loudly, indefinitely startling you. Grabbing it to check the sudden notification, your eyes go absurdly wide at the contact name displayed on your screen. Blinking numerous times from shock, you stare at your phone in incredulity; making sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.
Lee Minho. The Lee Minho?
What kind of sorcery is being conjured where the instant you bring him up, he somehow texts you after all these years of not speaking? This coincidence was more than unsettling to you. A part of your inner thoughts still believes this is all some elaborate joke being played on you, waiting for a cameraman to pop out of some curtain to announce you’ve just been pranked. But nothing happens, life proceeds as normal. Now you’re left with the most puzzling notification you might’ve ever received.
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It was your last year of college and the pressure of your academics along with appeasing your family was getting to you immensely. You needed an escape from all of it, desperately. Which you found through none other than Lee Minho, the boy who worked as a barista at Cozmo’s; this coffee shop you used to frequent a lot. It was a cute, small family-owned establishment and they made the best matcha lattes— in your humble opinion. You’d pick one up almost every day along with a slice of freshly baked cinnamon bread. It started off as only playful banter with him in the beginning, then it lead to more as time went on. One day, as you reached out to pay he blocked your hand from moving any closer, letting you freely walk away without spending a dime. This soon became a regular occurrence, as you’d start seeing Minho outside of work, getting to know more and more about him. You remember so desperately wanting to date back then, pitying your past self for thinking there was even a chance.
‘Maybe he’s just texted the wrong person’ you psyche yourself into thinking, but when you unlock your phone to finally read the message — an uncomfortable lump forms in the pit of your throat.
Minho 🐈:
Hey is this still ___’s number?
You honestly don’t know why you still have his number saved, let alone allowing a whole emoji to be next to it. Though it never was like you to delete anything, no matter how painful it may have been. More lingering questions makes you want to seek out the possible solutions. Why would he text you of all people ? None of this adds up in your mind realistically. Furrowing your brows in concentration, you think of what to say as you draft out a response.
Yes… who’s this?
After a tedious struggle of typing out multiple paragraphs and immediately deleting them, you went over your words a few more times before sending a final reply. It would’ve been strange had you knew exactly who he was off the bat, that’ll just be dead giveaway you still had his contact info saved this whole time. But with that logic, doesn’t that make Minho just as odd for still keeping your number after all this time has passed?
Your phone dings again.
Minho 🐈:
Srsly -_-
Did you really delete my number??
Bet he didn’t see that one coming. He probably thought the moment he texts you, you were gonna kiss up to him like you’ve always done in the past. Mentally giggling to yourself at the image of him getting flustered by you not knowing who he was at first. Feels good to know you knocked his confidence down a peg.
Lol, chillax.. I know it’s you Minho :P
Not even a minute later, a flood of incoming messages appear. Biting your lip out of nervousness, your heart couldn’t stop beating so fast— anxiously checking your phone as the atmosphere around you suddenly gets stuffier.
Minho 🐈:
Better be lucky I didn’t block you after that ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
Guess who’s back in the city btw. Did ya miss me? ;)
No need to answer that, I already know you did. You should stop by at Cozmo’s again sometime!
Also what’re you up to this week? I need you to clear out all your plans because I’m taking you out on a date.
You always knew Minho was the bold type but this was on another level. The sheer audacity he has to even ask something like this after not reaching out for almost 3 years was more than ballsy on his part. It felt like a surge of butterflies erupting in your stomach, getting lightheaded as you think about seeing him again. He really had an effect on you like no other.
Glancing up from your screen to finally pay attention to Areum again, you assure her everything’s going to be just fine. “Looks like I won’t be needing to download Tinder after all.”
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Later on that day you ended up going to Cozmo’s and meeting up with Minho. It never really took much convincing from him to get you to budge, though it was a hell of a lot worse back then. You used to blindly follow along with anything he said just to seek his approval, hoping that eventually he’ll see you as the girl he wants to settle down with. Alas, nothing ever blossomed into something more, and you knew deep down that this was headed nowhere— but that still didn’t stop you from fantasizing about a future with him. Getting lost into deep thought, head heavy in the clouds as you imagine the idea of Minho confessing his undying love for you. You’ll be so caught off guard as he gets down on one knee, looking at you with the entire solar system in eyes while he proposes in the most charming way. It really is pitiful how much you still daydream about a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend but would constantly act like he was, then up and leaves without mentioning a single word about it.
You convinced yourself he ran off with someone else to have a better life with, even hearing through town gossip that he’s moved to South Korea to pursue becoming an idol. Whatever the case may be it still weighed heavily on your mind that he never bothered to tell you anything, even a simple ‘goodbye’ would’ve sufficed the empty hole in your heart. The main reason you agreed on meeting up with Minho was to finally ask, why? Why did he pretend to like you? Why did he act like your boyfriend when he never had intentions on seriously dating? Why was he so good at making you fall so hard for him..?
“You look great.” You subconsciously blurt out, affixed in a daze as you stare in awe at the man in front of you.
It’s been a while since you came here— never able to fully bring yourself to try and go back. Though you knew this place first, and they really did have the best Mactha lattes in the universe. It reminded you too much of him and you sadly had to let it go.
You weren’t proud of it but you did go home quickly to change clothes and redo your makeup. Usually you wouldn’t care but this was the only guy you’ve been consistently crushing on for years, you had to feel good inside and out. Minho was just as gorgeous as you remembered, if not he looked even more ethereal — which seemed impossible in itself already. He’s grown up so beautifully, his facial features became more sharp, especially his jawline which looks so defined and sculpted by the Gods.
Minho lightly chuckles at your timidness, some things just never change. “You look way better.” His lips drew into a faint smirk as he admires your presence.
He meant every word of what he said, you looked really good, and it was making him even more frustrated that so much time has passed. Regretting the way he handled things so many years ago, wishing he could take it all back and do everything differently. Seeing you again made it easier for Minho to suppress the guilt he’s borne for so long. This moment feels like a second chance to make amends for his past mistakes.
You couldn’t help but blush when you hear his compliment, feeling your ears grow hot as you look at the ground. There was a silent pause between you that lasted for what seemed like ages. Weirdly enough the conversation flowed well after he finally broke the awkwardness, the chemistry was overall still there and were able to pick up right where it left off.
“I’m so glad you came ___, I’ve been dying to see you since I got here. I’m surprised you even still responded to my lame ass.”
Minho’s light confession puzzles you. If he really was dying to see you, why’d he wait so long to get in contact with you? To be fair, you don’t know the exact time he came back.
“Oh, is that so? When’d you come back? Also show me pics of Korea, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like there.” You fondly inquire, leaning against the side of the wall as he’s still behind the counter. He mentioned to you he’s only working part time because his parents would rather mooch off their son for free labor than to hire and pay a new employee.
“Yesterday,” he quickly states before taking out his phone to scroll through his gallery, “guess my sister must’ve told you I went there huh?”
You shook your head, “Nah, I haven’t talked to Elle in a while. She’s tried hitting me up a few times though.. but I found out through Areum ‘cause she was seeing Hoseok back then.”
They were definitely “seeing” each other alright, but mostly in the bedroom. Areum didn’t want anything exclusive with Hoseok and neither did he, it was the perfect friends with benefits situation. Minho and Hoseok were good friends who’ve known each other for a while, so naturally he’d tell Areum everything and overshare at some point.
“Agh, there’s a customer gotta take this. One sec, sorry!” He briefly apologizes before bringing his attention to the new person heading inside. You nod, signaling he’s good to go. “I’ll be waiting over there,” you point to a small wooden table with 2 chairs in a corner.
Once Minho comes back you notice he’s no longer wearing his purple work apron; back in his regular attire now and sporting an oversized dark grey hoodie that was three times too big. He was holding a large cup with green liquid and a paper bag in his hand, that’s when it clicks for you— he still remembers your favorite meal.
He’s grinning the whole time he’s handing you the matcha latte and cinnamon pastry, smiling from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas Day. This was the most you’ve seen him be so enthusiastic about something, even back when you were “with” him you can’t recall him beaming with such energy like this.
“Awh, thank you. I haven’t had either one of these in years!” You wanted to give him the biggest hug but you refrained from doing so, feeling as though it may be too early for that.
“Of course dear, anything for you.”
Why does everything he says have to make you melt from the inside out? It’s not fair! >:(
Glancing down at your yummy beverage, you see a message written on the side of the glass with bold permanent sharpie. Tilting your head to read it, the words are bit jumbled together but you get the gist. You’re almost left speechless after it reads: ‘___, Will you be my valentine?’
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Your most dreaded and least favorite holiday is here, yippee! But, there’s a twist on this year’s turn of events; you actually have someone to celebrate this wretched tradition with. You should be excited but all you’re feeling is the sudden urge to vomit as you were nervous out of your mind. This was kind of weird to you, going on a date with your ex boyfriend who was never even your real boyfriend. Looking back on it now you shouldn’t have tolerated a relationship dynamic like that, Minho was clearly taking advantage of your passiveness by not explicitly saying what he wanted. On the contrary, you had no one to blame but yourself, you never spoke up or criticized anything even if it didn’t coincide with your personal morals.
The fact he never took you on an actual date until now speaks volumes, you obviously didn’t have enough self worth back to demand better treatment. It took you years of figuring out what a real, healthy relationship is supposed to be like through trials of therapy and that was an emotional rollercoaster in itself. All your uncertainties soon faded away once you became more secure and knew exactly what you wanted for yourself. It took every ounce of patience and acceptance to unlearn all your bad coping mechanisms and other toxic behaviors that were only stunting your inner growth. You’re happy to be in a position now where you’re able to express wholeheartedly what you deserve, it’s the best feeling ever to feel like you’re in control of your own life.
You spent almost 3 hours getting ready and your bedroom now looked like a war zone. The outfit you chose was super girly, a frilly white dress with pink platform heels— Minho’s going to drool in amazement when he sees you. When you sent Areum photos of you before heading out, she responds right way with a series of hearts and other sweet comments— hyping you up to no end like the best friend she is. She’s also able to help pull you out of your doubtful headspace, when you felt unsure if you could really go through with this she quickly psyched you out of it. Reminding you exactly who you are and why you are the prize, not him. ‘He should be the one who’s nervous, not the other way around’ you assure yourself over and over as a mini ego boost.
His jaw dropped when he spotted you walking up to his car, infatuated by how pretty and perfect you looked in every way possible. It angers him so much to know he took all this for granted, he didn’t appreciate all of you the way he should’ve but now he gets another chance to redo everything and right his wrongs. It’s a lot of pressure but he bravely accepts it, he could never mess up another opportunity like this again. The car ride was fairly silent in the beginning, you were vibing in peace as the only thing you could hear was Minho’s soft indie playlist as background music.
You ultimately chose to be the one to speak first, breaking the ice with a simple inquiry about the date. “So where are we going?” Looking out at the scenery from the window, all you is trees and more trees. If it’s something to do with nature you surely don’t want any parts of it, you’ve never been too fond of the wilderness.
“It’s a surprise, I can’t tell you.” He keeps a tight seal on today’s destination without dropping a single hint, forcing you to go completely blind into this. As he goes back to focus on the road, you sigh anxiously after hearing him refuse to disclose anything.
Did he seriously forget what kind of person you are? Anyone who’s close to you at all knows you’ve never been into those types of things. Ever.
“You know I hate surprises Minho,” you remind him, attempting to pry for more information. Even shooting him a doe eyed look along with poking out your bottom lip, but he doesn’t falter.
He simply nods, “I know but you’ll like this one, just have a little bit of faith me.” Flashing an innocent smile at you, he seems to be overly confident in whatever his plan consists of.
After almost half an hour passes the car finally comes to a stop, you scan the area and instantly notice a sense of familiarity among the place. Across from you was an ice cream parlor you thought didn’t exist anymore. But there it is, still standing with dozens of customers waiting in line. The small shop was famously known for its fish-shaped ice cream cones, you’ve always wanted to visit the place and try it when you were a little from seeing it on TV all the time. When you told Minho about it, you said how your parents would say it was too far but it actually closed down and they didn’t know how to tell you. From time to time you’d still think about that place, but you would’ve never thought they relocated. Being here with Minho brings an indescribable amount of happiness to your spirit.
“I mentioned this place like one time in passing, how’d you even remember?” You wonder in amazement, after all these years he still remembers something as minuscule as this.
“It may not have seemed like it but I paid attention to every little detail you told me ___, all it. Of course I know you don’t like surprises but how else would I have been able to take you here?” He sweetly expresses to you, not wanting to hold back anymore.
You wanted to cry right here, right now. All your emotions came crashing down at once and it’s hard to keep them concealed. A lot has changed within these years, things feel so different with him now, especially with how much he’s matured. You notice how he doesn’t act like the typical fuckboy in his early 20’s anymore, he’s much more interested in getting to know only person — that being you.
“I’ve rehearsed this in my head like a million times and I don’t think I’ll ever say it the right way I want but it’s time I start being as transparent as possible with you…” Minho takes a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve always liked you ___, from the start actually,” he keeps going, “I was just scared, of what I don’t know.. Commitment maybe?”
Slightly looking in another direction, your vision faintly blurs from tears welling up, “I- I honestly don’t know what to say..”
“Then don’t say anything at all, I don’t need you to. I may not know the first thing about how to love someone, but I want to learn all of it with you.” He feels all the remorse of leaving you alone for all these years, unable to process the pain you must’ve endured at him not getting into contact with you. “I’m so sorry ___. For everything, I’m going to make it all better I promise.”
Your eyes subconsciously flutter shut when he comes in contact with you. Connecting in perfect symmetry with your lips to sync together in motion. His gentle hands cupped your face delicately; his touch was so warm and inviting. Your fingers were deeply tangled in his brunette locks, relishing every minute as he tilts his head to capture more of you. He genuinely couldn’t believe he went this long without kissing these luscious lips again. His tongue grazed the bottom of your lip to subtly ask for entry and you comply. Dopamine floods both your senses like a series of fireworks going off, feeling intoxicated by each other’s taste. It was probably that vanilla bean chapstick you always wore— an old favorite of his and is still your go-to flavor of choice. He wanted to savor you in this moment for as long as he could, cherish the fact he has you in his hold again.
“Want to know something funny?” He asks out of nowhere, still smirking from that heated kiss that just happened seconds ago.
“Hm?”
“You’re the reason I ended up coming back here.” Minho states bluntly, no hesitation detected in his voice whatsoever.
You struggle to comprehend anything, overwhelmed by all his sudden confessions. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I never want to leave your side ever again ___. I’m staying here with you, I already made the biggest mistake of losing you once I can’t let the same thing happen twice.” He spoke tenderly from the bottom of his heart, it felt so genuine you couldn’t not believe him.
Going back to rewind time isn’t possible, but “do-over’s” are, and sometimes we’re able to get those second chances to make things right when we get them wrong the first time.
[End <3].
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ynbabe · 5 months
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LOGAN FIC REQ!! (i love your messages au smmm btw THEYRE SO GOOD AHH) ok anywayssss
can you pls do logan x super super famous!reader.(preferably an actress but i don't mind any) so both of them are dating but are trying to keep it a secret since they've only been dating for a short amount of time. one night they decide to go on a date but paparazzi was there and it was going VIRAL. reader regrets not double checking if there would be any paps. sooo then everyone starts investigating on logan as the internet does and since everyone doesn't watch f1, they only see logan crashing and blah blah blah so they see him as a "bad driver" and he starts getting A LOT of hate because people think reader deserves better. they also start comparing him to reader's "more better and famous ex". reader and logan take time off social media and people think they broke up until reader releases an instagram post defending him and yeah a lot of fluff and hurt/comfort.
idk if this made sense but pls feel free to change anything!! again i love your work sm 💕‼️
Hiiii, omg thank you so much! Love love LOVE the fic idea and without any further ado- here's the fic, it isn't exactly as the prompt but I hope you love it-
Keep my wife's name OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH ୨୧ Logan Sargeant x famous! reader
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As a celebrity, you don’t often have the privilege of privacy. The cameras seemed to follow you everywhere, from outside your house to the restaurants you ate at and even to private celebrations with your friends and family.
Your last relationship had gone south exactly because of the paparazzi, making assumptions about the seriousness of your relationship and even spreading pregnancy and marriage rumours, scaring the man away.
You had wanted to take it slow, heart broken from your previous relationship but then you met Logan and for the first time in a long time you felt like you could breath, like you could do what you wanted without being judged.
You knew who he was and he knew who you were and that was perfect.
The both of you had spent a perfect week in your villa in Bali, it had been risky but no one caught on, surprisingly.
You thought your luck would continue and you threw causation to the wind, not asking your assistant to check for paparazzi at the sushi restaurant you were going to in Shanghai.
Unfortunately, you were caught just as you were leaving the restaurants waking up to a host of notifications, some good and some gut-wrenching.
Logan on the other hand tried not to throw up, his eyes wide, you could tell he was scared. Would his team drop him? No, no. Why would they? Right? Oh God.
"Logan, Logs, baby are you okay?" You called out, dropping to your knees and cradling his face in your palms.
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f1waglife
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f1waglife Y/n nation how are we feeling tonight? Logang? How are we? This was definitely not the couple we expected but is this the couple we deserve?
Username OH HELL NAW- WHY IS THIS FLORIDA MAN DATING QUEEN Y/N?????
Username Y/n come home the kids miss you
Username Omg mans is in love
Username Get someone to look at you the way Logan looks at Y/n
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You saw some of the comments and while some made you smile, some made you want to slap a bitch, unfortunately, a scandal would not help, so you called up your PR manager, and the post was gone within a minute.
Logan's race had gone sour, with him getting an unfair penalty and points on his licence. The already poor start to your day had turned even worse when you saw Logan tiredly storm into the room collapsing on the bed, burying his face in his pillow.
"What... the..... fuck?" He screamed into the pillow making you smile a little. The small habit he'd picked up from you, screaming into the pillows as a way to think, one that you had picked up from one of the characters you played a long time ago.
"Why do people even care about who's dating who? That's so stupid." He rolled his eyes.
"Don't we binge Keeping Up with the Kardashians every Monday?" You asked.
"That's not the same though-" He paused and switched his phone off, he already didn't have access to his own Instagram, having given access to his manager a long time ago, he now didn't even want to talk to his friends or colleagues many of whom just wanted an autograph from you along with an explanation how he could be with you.
He turned around, pulling the blanket on him, tired from the day.
You pulled up Twitter as a habit but were greeted with a terrible chain of tweets judging every aspect of your relationship and even worse criticizing Logan without even knowing anything about the sport.
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"What the fuck-" You cursed out loud, you knew your fanbase was slightly (an underestimation) larger than your boyfriends but how could they call themselves your fans, when you have been a fan of Logan's since his first season in f1? All your co-stars American or not knew your borderline obsession for the man, every race week you'd be posting Williams on your story, how could they still hate on him?
You looked next to you, where your boyfriend was sleeping a small scowl on his pretty face.
PR be damned, he didn't deserve this.
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y/nl/nofficial
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y/nl/nofficial To anyone who calls themselves my fans and talks shit about my lovely boyfriend, UNFOLLOW ME ASAP. Logan is the kindest, sweetest, most talented man I've had the pleasure to know and he deserves better than the bullshit he gets from some assholes who don't know anything about him. To quote my friend Will: KEEP MY WIFES NAME OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTHS-
username oop sis snapped
username you tell em girl
username LOVE a gf whos rabidly in love with her bf
username now why would y'all try and shame Mother's boyfriend when all she does is post about him for race weekends??
username fr shes been a logan fan before logan fans have been logan fans
Williams We stan a protective gf 😮‍💨
username admin you'll always be famous y/nl/nofficial Cant help it he looks really pretty in blue 🥰 username oh she in love love
username shall we start calling him Father?
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The way I was struggling to write this fic cause I had to write bad things about Pookie Bear Logie is insane. But- I hope yall like it, please do let me know in the comments or reblogs!!!
471 notes · View notes
tgcg · 9 months
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ill break your shit adam
warning for adult lang
fuck you adam sandler
youre lucky karkat likes you
stupid fuck sees an amnesiac girl
and asks her can i marry you
that lady got issues mentally
you still down to do shit anally
deplorable zit on the ass of romanza
karkat told me to put that shit in this stanza
do raps even count as having stanzas
slam poetry tyke at preschool im no manza
youd probably jack it to a log with holes if they were wet ones
sitting on that stupid dock with her papa cracking cold ones
piece of shit id push you off that dock and watch you bubbling
kick your ass like her shitty bro failed when you were troubling
penguins dont quack like fucking ducks you dumbass
thats not part of the rap i just think that youre a dumbass
back to the rap sandler i bet you couldnt drop a single bar
too busy picking up stupid women at the stupid women bar
who even let you into hawaii
also did i say karkat liked you i was kidding he wants to kick your heinie
seriously watching that shit again made him start slamming his head into the cushions and screaming i had to pry them out his hands and he almost bit me
sorry i forgot i was rapping again
piece of shit forgot that you can like women while dating other men
still not over that chuck and larry shit adam
if you just said to the gov you were bi you coulda had em
firefighter of the year? well try putting out this heat
karkats gonna beat your ass like you do every night to your meat
gotta ask is this shit wish fulfilment for you
gotta say larry deserved better than you
i could treat him way better than you not in a gay way though
i just mean youre a massive sleaze basically the worlds shittiest bro
back to 50 first dates man sandler your shit is a bore
the stupid bits with schneider got my ass addicted to snore
if i was that stupid walrus id tear your ass to shreds
if i was that penguin i would also tear your ass to shreds
itd be harder but id still do it
bro fuck adam sandler im through it
===
TT: Wow. Bravo, Dave. You've outdone yourself.
TG: i wrote this one exceptionally fucking terrible to represent my inner darkness
TG: i can never unwatch those cinematic fossilized turds theyre like time capsules devoted to everything wrong with america
TG: you dont even understand how egregious that was
TT: I can sense the utter malaise and contempt in every word. It's beautiful.
TT: One particularly interesting point I'd like to make is the fact that you managed to refer to butts in a song about a male target, 10 times in the span of 37 lines. It's not an exorbitant amount, but it appears to be a running theme in your works. Very interesting, if you ask me --
TG: nooooo
TG: nope no
TG: not this shit again
TG: listen one of them is karkats fault
===
CG: ROSE, YOU JUST DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND WHAT HE'S DOING HERE AT ALL.
TT: No? Please, enlighten me Karkat.
CG: GLADLY.
CG: HE STARTS OUT WITH THE FRIGGIN WORD "ANAL" PRECEDING ALL OF THE OTHER MENTIONS, OF COURSE IT'S ON PURPOSE. IT INSTILLS THAT IMAGERY IN YOUR NUGBONE THROUGHOUT THE TRACK.
CG: AND YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED A RECURRING USE OF THE WORD "SHIT", IN TANDEM. BOG-STANDARD FOR DAVE, RIGHT? NO! IT'S PART OF THE EFFECT!
CG: MY THESIS: ADAM SANDLER MOVIES ARE PIECES OF ABSOLUTE SHIT AND THE REFERENCES TO WORDS LIKE "LOG" AND "SHIT" AND "ASS" ARE TO INVOKE THE SENSE OF TAKING A MASSIVE DUMP THROUGHOUT THE SPAN OF THE RAP, WHICH BY ALL MEANS WOULD BE AN EQUAL OR GREATER USE OF YOUR TIME THAN WATCHING THOSE MOVIES.
CG: RIGHT, DAVE?
TG: … yeah
TT: Okay, I'm willing to concede to that. On this subject matter, as an avid terrible movie enjoyer, you admittedly know better than myself.
CG: SHOULD KNOW BETTER.
TT: And you love them anyways.
CG: YEAH.
TG: hes right
TG: you hear that shit hes right
TG: fuck death of the author im verifying that interpretation
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flor4de4amor · 5 months
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hockey abby 🌀🌀🌀
oh i need her so bad. want her so bad. also ik nothingggg abt hockey so don't beat me up guys.
click for palestine | dont buy tlou | read b4 engaging w me
hockey!abby who's actually a sweetie. beast on the ice. monster of a coach and captain, but such a sweet girlfriend. she's always more than happy to see you out in the stands, wearing her large jersey, cheering her on.
hockey!abby who coaches little league hockey. she loves kids, but they're awful. and by awful, they're actually hilarious. she has to stifle laughter during practice and reprimand them, but once she's home with you she's telling you everything.
hockey!abby who's definitely got a light 'hockey accent.' she denies it with her life. she hasn't got an accent, its you who's got an accent! but you've got videos of her saying "sorry" like a filthy canadian. she swears on her life it's a deepfake video of her. how could you do that to your pretty baby? she trusted you. what's next, fake news of her losing a game? gosh, papparazzi these days.
hockey!abby who brings you out on the ice when she's the only one practicing. slipping skates on your feet carefully, and holding your hand softly. she'd race you but you'd totally lose, and she doesn't wanna hurt your feelings.
hockey!abby who's fights with the ref every chance she gets. she gets heated quick and easy. whenever she loses because of a stupid ref call, you never hear the end of it.
"that ref is a fucking asshole. why's she even a ref? i can do a better job than her." she rolled her eyes.
whenever she's pissed, its easier to butter her up and stroke her ego. "you would, but you're a much better player baby," you take her hand and kiss her pulse point. "besides, i'd miss watching you play on the ice."
she smiles to herself, "when you're right you're right babe." she agrees, humming.
hockey!abby who is always in the penalty box. always swearing off on the ice. she's one of the few female players who does start fights on the ice, and they are brutal. blood flying, helmets clashing, sticks thrashing. she always makes you kiss her bruises better, and you always oblige. smiling against each scab and scolding her when finished.
hockey!abby who is always ending up in tik tok edits and has the most obscene comments. it drives you mad, but it just confuses her. cause her entire page is a shrine of you and your realtionship. she does post herself here and again. gym selfies, post practice drill check ins, once or twice with her hair out. which everyone knows, is a real panty dropper. but they're totally innocent pictures! she's got her eyes on you and you only! she replies to vulgar comments with corny stuff like:
'im happily married!'
'my gf shook her head in disgust when she read this'
'plz stop trying to build a wedge btw me n my girl! our cats won't like this!'
hockey!abby who always goes to speaker events and is incredibly passionate about women in sports. she encourages young girls to get engaged as young as possible. she always wants to uplift morale and increase the amount of girl in sports, especially her sport.
hockey!abby oh hockey!abby.
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multifandomfanficss · 6 months
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Never Listen To Venkman
Egon Spengler x Reader
(With platonic!Peter Venkman)
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Prompt: When you and Peter are left alone to experiment with a suspicious, blue, viscous slime, things go south and Egon comes home to you having a paranormal induced panic attack.
Warnings: panic attacks, autistic meltdowns, sensory issues, detailed descriptions of sensory issues, feeling uncomfortable in one’s own skin.
A/N: Back in my Ghostbusters era. It is contractually obligated that I must re-obsess every time a new movie comes out. I’ve loved Egon since I was a little kid. I can’t believe I’ve never written for him. The italics are flashbacks. This is crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.
The reader is intended to be autistic, but can be read any way you’d like. Anyone is allowed to relate and see themselves in the reader wether they’re autistic or not!
You were sitting at your desk with in your small shared lab with Egon in the firehouse when you heard footsteps. You thought you had been home alone until Peter walked in.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were going on a double date with Winston while Ray and Egon were at the movie.” You questioned him, putting down your pen. You had been taking notes on a new kind of slime the boys had found. It was different from the other slime they’d found last month when Vigo was trying to take over. While Vigo’s slime was pink in color, this slime was blue and had a more viscous consistency.
“Oscar had a fever, so Dana and I decided to cancel. She thinks he’s getting his first tooth.” Peter smiles. Despite the jokes he’s made and the amount of times he’s said he was nowhere near ready to be a father, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy being back with Dana again and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love Oscar just as much as he loved her.
“Did Winston still go?” You ask.
“Oh, yeah. He’s probably back in her apartment with the bed rocking as we speak. No way he’s coming home tonight.” Peter laughed at his own joke as you cringe.
“You’re disgusting.” You roll your eyes.
“What are you up to tonight? Got a hot date with a slime? Not too different from your usual dating life.” He chuckles.
“You’re such a dick, Venkman. I figured while everybody was out tonight I’d try to find out SOMETHING about this new slime. Egon and I have been studying it for two days and we have literally nothing.” You gesture to the blue goo on your desk.
“Do you need help?” He asks.
“Are you offering to help me on your night off?” You ask, shocked.
“I’ve got nothing better to do.” Peter shrugs.
“Are you gonna take it seriously?” You hesitate.
“I’m always serious!” Peter bluffs. Peter was never serious. Egon was always serious. His bluntness and black and white thinking had always been a comfort to you. He wasn’t some puzzle you had to figure out. He just was. Being with him wasn’t a guessing game the same way it was with Peter.
“Somehow that’s hard to believe, but I could really use your expertise in parapsychology, so I’ll say yes.” You sigh. You know this probably isn’t the best idea, but Peter knows more about this topic than you do. You’d be stupid to reject his help.
“If you’ll be the subject, I’ll run the experiment.” He says, taking out the helmet with wires.
“Okay.” You agree. Once the helmet is on you should be connected to a series of machines able to read the energy of your emotions, as well as the slime itself, giving you a more direct connection without touching. Peter starts asking you a series of questions, trying to draw different emotional responses.
“Think of a time when you were happy, really happy.” He prompts. Your mind, wandered around the room, trying to think of something, when your eyes landed on Egon’s book sitting on his desk.
It made you think of the first time you realized you had deep feelings for him. While you’d always thought he was attractive, you realized your feelings were deeper than you thought, far beyond a harmless little crush, one day when he let you borrow his book. As you read his notes in the margins you were able to analyze things like him, see the world through his eyes. You saw how his brain connected and processed things. You always liked the person he’d shown you, but writing in the margins is different. When you take notes in a book, you’re not putting on a mask for people to see. Notes in the margins are just for you. There’re your unfiltered thoughts. Seeing who Egon was when nobody was watching was different. He was funny, smart, deep, curious, not as confident as he pretended to be; he didn’t censor himself in his books. He wasn’t quiet in his books. Reading his margins felt intimate.
“You’re thinking about Spengler, aren’t you?” Venkman teases.
“Why would you say that?” You look at him, embarrassed.
“Because you’re in loooooove!” Peter mocks.
“Can we change the subject?” You practically beg.
“Think of a moment where you were uncomfortable.” Peter prompts.
“This conversation.” You fiddle with your fingers.
“No, really. I wanna see how it reacts to discomfort.”
“Fine.” You sigh. You think back to one of your many lab accidents. Working in a lab with sensory issues is never easy and that was something you and Egon both struggled with.
You think back to the day when you superglued your fingers shut by accident. You got them apart, but you couldn’t get the the residue off. You started to hyperventilate, on the verge of tears. You wanted to hit your hands on things, but you knew that wouldn’t help. You couldn’t peel off the glue without peeling off your skin.
“What’s wrong?” Egon looked at you puzzled, and a bit worried.
“Superglue! I- I- I can’t get it off!” You shake your hands, violently, your whole body is tensed up.
Egon quickly takes a bottle out from his desk drawer and runs over to you. He grabs your hands.
“Look at me, (Y/N). It’s okay. I’ll take off all the residue.” He promises, giving you a soft smile. Despite not liking seeing you in such discomfort, he forces the smile to help calm you down. He begins to massage the liquid from the bottle onto your fingers with a rag.
“See, it’s okay. It’s coming off.” He continues to speak softly, calming you.
“What is that stuff?” You ask.
“I wish I could say it’s some sort of fancy, scientific, protective disinfectant, but as it so happens it’s only nail polish remover.” You both chuckle quietly. “Janine gave it to me the last time I got superglue on something and couldn’t get it off.” He smiles down at your hands, still focused on getting the last little bit off.
“This slime is so different from the mood slime. I thought I saw it let go of a bubble, but it’s mostly doing nothing. I think it might be dead. I think it might be time to bury it in the backyard.” Peter begins to fake sob.
“Knock it off.” You laugh. “What backyard? This is Manhattan!”
“You should try touching it.” Peter suggests.
“Egon, said I should under no circumstances touch it directly, especially while he’s not here.” You inform him.
“Well Egon, is being overprotective. Nothing bad happened when everyone else touched the pink slime and I accidentally ate green slime once.” Venkman says.
“What do you mean accidentally?” You ask.
“It was our first mission. Slimer ran through me. It was a whole thing. I think you should touch it… You might be able to figure out what it is before Spengler gets back…” He tries to change your mind.
“You’re sure there were no serious side effects from touching the other slimes?” You ask, hesitantly. Egon would be annoyed if he found out you went against his pleas to keep your hands away from the plasma, but you wanted to impress him.
“Nothing serious. I grew an extra pinky, but they cut it off.” He jokes.
“Haha, very funny, Venkman.” You roll your eyes.
“Fine.” You sigh, taking a deep breath before plunging your hand into the blue viscous goo. “Oh…This is literally fine.” You feel no effect, but when your heart rate picks up you realize you spoke too soon. You fall onto the floor, knocking over the slime. You feel like your heart is racing, like it could beat out of your chest and you can’t suck enough air into your lungs. You’re terrified.
“(Y/N)!” Peter yells, rushing to the floor to help you. He tries to touch the the hand not covered in blue slime, but you push him away, sobbing. You don’t want him anywhere near you. You’re slipping away from reality into a deep state of panic and paranoia.
“Please! No!” You sob. It’s the only thing you can manage to get out. You barley recognize Peter anymore. He doesn’t feel like a friend. He feels like a threat.
“Honestly, the movie was quite terrible. Ray stopped for a 99 cent pizza on the corner. What did you- (Y/N)?!” Egon speaks as he enters the room, cutting himself off when he notices you’re in distress.
“Pete, what happened?!” Egon questions once he sees Venkman.
“We were doing an experiment and they touched the goo and they just started freaking out. They won’t let me near them.” Peter tells him, obviously shaken. You hear the two men, but you don’t process them. It’s like you’re underwater.
“This is different from their usual sensory issues. I think they’re having a panic attack.” Egon kneels in front of you. “(Y/N), you’re okay. You’re safe. You’re in the firehouse. I’m here.” He tells you slowly.
“I- I can’t breathe!” You gasp for air.
“Your lungs are expanding and contracting at a rate too fast for your body to intake oxygen. I need you to try to breathe slow and deep with me. In…and out. Nice and slow.” He prompts. “Peter, I need latex gloves and towels.” Venkman could have made multiple jokes about Egon’s command, but looking at you this way made him uneasy. It wasn’t the right time. After being handed the gloves, Egon slipped them on and got to work cleaning off your slime covered arm. You begin to sob, overwhelmed by the feeling of the slime, the latex gloves, and the towel. It was difficult to handle on top of your panic attack. “Peter, we need to get them into the decontamination shower.”
“No!” You gasp between sobs.
“Come, on. I’ll go with you. We can get all the plasma off of you.” Egon speaks softly, but with a gentle urgency, as he tries to coax you to the shower. You shake your head no. “Are you against touch right now?” He asks.
“They did not like when I touched them.” Venkman warns.
“Only you-“ You break out in a sob. It doesn’t even cross your mind that you may be offending Peter by only wanting Egon. Luckily he’s not offended. Egon begins to take off his glove to provide skin to skin contact on the arm not drenched in slime in an effort to comfort you.
“Aren’t you worried about getting that stuff on you?” Venkman questions, worried Egon will shutdown like you.
“I’m getting in the decontamination shower anyway.” Egon shrugs, turning to you. He takes your hand in his, softly rubbing the top with his thumb.
“But- but your clothes will get all wet!” You sob. You knew Egon had his own sensory issues. You’d often have to help him when his long sleeves would get wet during experiments. It would drive him crazy. He avoided puddles like the plague and always had an umbrella nearby.
“Try not to worry about me right now. I just want you to focus on your breathing. I can always change my clothes.” He smiles. While it hurts him to see you so distressed, he was happy to know you cared about his comfort. “Let’s go shower. You can’t leave all that slime on you. I believe it’s worsening your mental state.” You nod, still crying.
“I’ll get them under the shower, I’ll need you to turn it on. Make sure not to touch the slime. I got a minuscule amount on my finger and it’s making me rather anxious. I can only imagine what this amount is doing to them.” Egon tells Peter. He helps you to stand, walking your trembling form over to the shower. “There we go. Just a few more steps. You’re doing wonderfully, (Y/N).” Egon softly attempts to comfort you.
Once you’re under the shower head, Venkman turns it on. Both you and Egon jolt at the sudden water pressure. He tightens both his jaw and his grip on you, holding his eyes shut tight. He can’t stand the feeling of his wet clothes against his body, but he’s brave for you. Once adjusted to the water, Egon begins to wash the slime off your body with care. Peter leaves to go upstairs and get you some towels. You feel the panic and paranoia start to leave your body. Despite still being incredibly anxious, you were starting to phase out of your slime induced panic attack. You lean against Egon, struggling to hold your own body weight. Maybe you’ll be more embarrassed tomorrow, but right now you just needed to be held. You were craving pressure on your body. You felt as if you would float off the ground if you weren’t held down. Egon wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer. He places a kiss on your forehead before placing his chin on top of your head. You snuggled into his chest, finding his pulse. You didn’t have the time or the bandwidth in your brain to think about what the kiss meant. You just wanted to be close to him.
“You’re okay, (Y/N). You’re safe.” Egon tells you. You’re not sure if it’s for your benefit or his. It’s for both, really.
You’re quiet for most of the night, unable to bring yourself to speak. Egon doesn’t mind. He thinks a verbal shutdown is more than understandable after the night you’ve had. After the shower, you follow Egon around the fire station. You don’t want to be alone right now. He doesn’t mind. He puts out some of his clothes for you to wear; pajama pants and one of his soft sweaters. He goes to leave the room for you to change, but you stop him.
“Can- can we just like? Turn around?” You ask. “I’m sorry. If you’re uncomfortable, that’s okay. I just really don’t wanna be alone right now.” You voice is hoarse from crying.
“Of course.” He smiles, turning around.
“I’m decent.” He informs you after a minute of rustling.
“Me too.” You tell him and you both turn around.
“I’m sorry.” You tell him, near tears again. You feel awful for how tonight went. This was supposed to be the boys’ day off. Egon gives you a sad look.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. You were just trying to help. Venkman told me he put you up to it anyway.” Egon sighs.
“I probably shouldn’t have listened to him.” You let out a sad chuckle, one tear slipping past you, down your cheek. You wipe it quickly.
“Never listen to Venkman.” Egon gives a sad laugh.
“At least we figured out what the slime does… Egon, can I ask you a question?” You hesitate.
“Well, you just did, but yes.” He smiles, joking to lighten the mood. You smile at him.
“Why did you do all that? You took off your gloves, putting yourself at risk and then you put yourself through sensory hell just to get me cleaned up.” You question him.
“Isn’t it obvious? (Y/N), I care about you.” You look at him, thinking about the tone in his words. You can’t quite decipher it, but there’s something else there. Is it possible he could feel the same way about you that you feel about him? “You should get some sleep.” He interrupts your thoughts. “If you’d rather not be alone, you may sleep in my room tonight. I would find it beneficial to monitor you overnight to watch for long lasting effects, anyway.” He adds.
“Only if that’s okay with you.” You hesitate.
“Of course it’s okay with me. I just suggested it.” He smiles.
Once you’re settled into bed, Egon turns off the lights and climbs in next to you.
“Egon, I’m still anxious.” You blurt out into the dark.
“Do you need pressure?” He asks.
“Yes.” You say, hoping he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t seem to mind, as he scoops you into his arms. You cuddle into his chest, surrounded by him, surrounded by safety. You know this should be weird, but it doesn’t feel weird. As Egon kisses the top of your forehead again, bidding you goodnight, you wonder what this all means. You wonder what you are to each other. You feel you’ve crossed the line as friends, but you’re too tired and too awkward and too anxious to talk about labels. You and Egon never quite fit into boxes as people anyway. Your relationship didn’t need to either. Whatever this was between you was comforting. It was safe and it was going to help you sleep tonight.
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luveline · 11 months
Note
idk if you would write for this I checked your guidelines and wasn’t sure but I would LOVE a pregnancy scare with Aaron (May be reader is younger than him?)! And she’s just panicked bc he’s older and already has a kid and etc and the test can be pos or neg totally up to you!
thank you for requesting! 1.3k, fem (possibly) pregnant!reader
cw reader's and hotch's attitude towards pregnancy is mostly positive
Your period is twelve days late. 
That is not a small amount of time. 
You don't notice it at first, and when you do you figure it's a few extra days without an irksome pain, a balm to soothe the ache of your absent boyfriend and a hard job, but when Aaron comes home from a case and you still haven't started your period, the panic begins to set in. 
You have a hard time keeping things from him for obvious reasons. His being a human lie detector felt fascinating when you first met, but now it's making things worse. You would've liked some time to yourself for denial, only he can always tell when something is wrong, though it's clear to you he's not sure exactly what it is. He'll realise eventually, you know. 
"Let's go to the store," he suggests, his hand flirting with the back of your neck. "You always feel better after a sweet treat." 
You've been to the store today, unbeknownst to him, for some emotional support chocolates and a small box you'd rather not think about. You'd hoped that he might get called away to give you time to open it, but without him you're not sure you have the strength. 
You hadn't expected to feel this way. You want desperately to tell him, but you're just so, so scared. 
"I don't feel like going anywhere." 
He hums as his hand moves to your shoulder, squeezing a loving path down to your hand. Jack bangs a toy down in his bedroom across the way, and the washing machine spinning from the utility closet sounds louder than it ever has before, like a rocket about to erupt. You don't know what it is that gets you, but suddenly you're overwhelmed, a confession stuck in the back of your throat as Aaron meets your panicked gaze. 
"What's wrong?" he asks. "Here, honey, sit down." 
He guides you to a kitchen chair. 
"What's wrong?" he asks again, bending at the waist. 
Your head rushes with white noise for a second. You wet your chapped lips with the tip of your tongue; you've missed your period, but it isn't that alone that scares you. Perhaps in an instance of a psychosomatic symptom, you feel weird, other. Something has changed. And you're starting to feel sick. 
"Aaron, I don't know what to do," you say. 
His eyes widen with an expression you don't often see. "Has something happened?" 
It's so, so hard to say. "I think I've messed up." 
"Not in any way I can't fix." 
"Maybe I have," you say miserably, panic hot behind your eyes. 
He shakes his head. "You haven't. I swear you haven't. Please, tell me what's wrong before I have a heart attack." 
You can't say it while he's looking at you, and when you do it's hardly audible. "I think I'm pregnant," you breathe. 
Aaron pauses. You can't even raise your head, anxiety its own heartbeat and nausea rising fast. You let out a gasp you'd held in and try to calm down, even while every little part of you worries about what he's going to say. 
You don't know if you want to be pregnant, or have a baby, but you know it would probably break your heart just a touch if Aaron didn't want to have one with you. You're not sure why. And Jack is a beautiful kid but he's growing up. Aaron isn't young. 
"How sure are you?" he asks, tone completely measured. 
"I… I feel it," you say. "I know that's stupid… 'N my period is really late, nearly two weeks now." 
"You feel it?" 
"I feel sick." Your elbows on your thighs and the backs of your hands pressed to your eyes, you curl in on yourself. "I'm so scared." 
"You're scared?" Hands on your forearms. Aaron gets down on his knees in front of your chair and rubs fondness into your skin, his voice a soothing, familiar comfort as he says, "Sweetheart, you have nothing to be scared of. Don't be scared. I'm right here." 
Tears like a shock, relief and horror mixed into one. "I'm so stupid, I haven't even taken the test yet, I don't know why I'm acting this way." 
"We all react differently to foreign situations than how we might imagine. What's important now is that you take a breath, because otherwise you'll panic." 
While you're afraid of what he's thinking, you trust him implicitly. "Okay." 
"Okay," he says, pulling your hands away from your face. "Just breathe, honey." 
He's more patient than you knew another person could be. He wipes your straggling tears with his hand without a word, his breath coming in even inhales and exhales for you to follow. The small spike of panic swiftly melds to plain old tears. You're embarrassed. You're unhappy. You and Aaron certainly weren't trying for this occasion. 
"What are you scared of?" he asks eventually. 
"Of you. Of what you're thinking, and– and what if I– I mean, what if I'm pregnant?" you ask, as though pregnant is a new word. When you said it at first, you'd meant, what if we end up having a baby together? But now you're more inclined to think about the process itself. What if you're physically pregnant? 
"Well, you have absolutely no reason to be scared of me. I love you." Aaron puts his hand just under your ear, his thumb to your cheek. "Whatever happens. Nothing else matters to me besides you." 
"Because you want a baby," you say unhappily. 
"Who says I don't?" He smiles at you softly. "I think we should've had this conversation a long time ago, but the long and short of it is that I love you. I love you and I'll do what you need me to." 
"I figured you'd be done having babies," you say, still hesitant. 
"Evidently not." He laughs, and you laugh back and he acts like you've hung the moon. "If you're scared of being pregnant, maybe you should take the test before you wind yourself up, hm?" 
"I guess I'm acting pretty silly, huh?" you ask, sniffling and wiping your eyes, the two of you caught in breathy laughter again. 
"Hormonal, maybe," he says. "Don't be scared. I don't want you to be scared." 
"What do you want?" you ask. 
"I just want you to stop crying. It's not right…" He strokes your damp cheek. "If I'm honest? If you take that test, and you aren't pregnant, or if you don't want to have a baby," —his face is calm, a small smile playing on his lips— "then I don't want you to, either." 
"But if I am?" you ask. 
"Then I will be so, so happy, because it's you." 
A missed period isn't necessarily indicative of pregnancy, and you could be freshly pregnant or four whole weeks and the test could still come out negative. Maybe your weird feeling is indigestion. Whatever happens, you really believe that the man in front of you is here for whatever answer you find. 
"I love you."
"I love you, too," he says, bone deep sincerity turned to something lighter, fondly teasing as he lifts himself up and hugs you close. "You know that." 
You let him hold you for a little while, calming down, looking at the positives and all your options. "You think Jack would be happy?" 
"He'd love a brother or sister… eventually." 
You wipe your tears and runny nose in his shirt and he does you the generosity of pretending not to notice. If you are going to have anyone's baby, you'd want it to be his. 
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glassartpeasants · 7 months
Text
I was doing a writing warm-up and made this piece. I kinda like it and might make a fic series about it if anyone is interested. Also, I call Kid 'Eustass' in this because it felt right for some reason?
Eustass Kid/ Trafalgar Law x F!Reader
warnings: Angst, small amount of blood, cheating, slut shaming maybe? Modern Au
~~~
“Does he think I’m a fucking idiot?! Does he think I can’t see the way his eyes follow girls’ asses as they walk by?” Gripping the edge of the bathroom sink, you struggle to hold back tears as you talk to your best friend on the other line.
“What am I doing wrong (....)? I’ve done everything right! I gave him all of me, and he’s out here eyeing other women!”
“That’s just the way he is (Y/N). I tried to warn you about him. You can’t change someone who doesn’t want to change.” You bite your lip as your body shakes. Emotion overwhelmed you to the point you could no longer hold back tears.
“I don’t understand. He told me he loved me and that he couldn’t imagine a life without me. He made me a matching ring to his. He promised me that his playboy days were over…”
“Well, if he’s staring at other girls, then obviously he broke his promise.”
~~~
You're feeling a lot more numb than you thought you would. At first, you thought you’d be yelling, crying, and screaming. Asking him why? But now that you're actually hearing his moans along with an unknown woman's echoing in your shared bedroom, no tears fall from your eyes. 
Maybe your heart and mind were mentally and emotionally ready for this. There were many signs he was starting to stray. Staring at other women, no longer being affectionate in public, you even saw him take off his ring once. He hasn’t done it again, but that was the last straw your heart could take when you tried to ignore the signs.
You should've known it’d end like this. He’s been a fuck boy all throughout high school and college. Slithering his way into vulnerable hearts and crushing them without a care about the people he’s heart. How you’ve been friends with him for so long and knowing what he was doing was something you criticized yourself for. 
While you weren’t best friends during high school and college, you both always had a class together. The two of you just ended up talking during each of them. Well, him hitting on you and you always telling him that you rather swim in hell’s flames than get with him. All throughout high school and college, he’d do this. In a way, you said no to avenge all the hearts he’s broken. But once college started, you accidentally started growing feelings for the idiot. Yet, you still said no until graduation day. He came up to you with a bouquet of roses made of metal that he made in shop class. Every rose was made individually, letting you pluck one out and hold it in your hands. Everyone in said class said he’d been working on it forever. Throwing away and remaking it more times than anyone could count. All to make sure it was perfect. It was then that you finally said yes. No one had done anything so thoughtful for you before. 
But when you told your best friend the news, she wasn’t happy.
“What?!”
“Listen, I know it sounds stupid-”
“That’s because it is stupid (Y/N)! We both know his past and how he still was before you agreed to go out with him! How are you sure he isn’t gonna do the same shit to you?!”
“He’s been asking me for years and actually made me this metal bouquet of flowers. Aren’t they beautiful, though?” Showing her the flowers, you watch her sigh. 
“What happens when he breaks your heart? What will you do then?” You were silent as you looked away from her. Her hands go to your shoulders, and it makes you look at her. 
“I just don’t want you crying over someone like him. I’m just worried about you, okay?”
“I know. Thank you for watching out for me. I’m going to give him a chance. Maybe he’s ready to grow up? But if I get my heart broken. Then you’ll get to say, ‘I told you so’.” Laughing at the last part, you pull (.....) into a hug and enjoy how you could always rely on her to be by your side.
Your eyes caught the metal bouquet on the kitchen table. The sun hit it just right to where it shined in your eyes. Furrowing your brows, an immediate disgust came over you as you looked at them. The one thing that had you thinking he’d changed was laughing at you and calling you a fool for falling for it.
Turning away from the bedroom door, you carefully and quietly walked to the metal sculpture. You pull one of the roses out from the vase they resided in and look at it. You twirled it with your fingers before gripping it tightly. Using your other hand, you encase the metal rosebud with the palm of your hand before twisting it harshly. 
The sharp metal cut into your hand as you ripped off the rose head. A small hiss escaped you, yet you continued. Putting down the first destroyed rose, you move on to the second one. Then the third, fourth, fifth, until every single rose had been ripped apart. By the time you were finished, the stems of the flowers were scattered across the kitchen table, as well as the blood-covered roses. A good representation of a broken heart if you say so.
You could still hear the moans coming from the bedroom, and the more you listened and paid attention, the more you swore you recognized the tone of voice. Tip-toeing to the door, you place your ear against the wood. Taking a few seconds, you listen carefully to try to pinpoint who it could be.
“Eustass~”
As soon as the words were heard, you felt your world shatter. That was (.....)’s voice. That was (.....) in there fucking your boyfriend. And your boyfriend was cheating on you with your best friend. The two people you cared about the most stabbing you in the back. It’s even worse knowing that (.....) was cheating on her own boyfriend, Trafalgar Law. The smartest person you’ve ever met. He was valedictorian in high school and had the highest grades in college. He's now a world known respected doctor who’s saved so many lives. Everything he’s done, and this is what happens to him? How could Eustass and (.....) pull this on you and Law?
A rage washed over you as soon as you heard her moan his name again. Grabbing your phone from your pocket, you unlock it and call Law. You thankfully had his number after a project you guys did together a month before college ended, and you just never remembered to delete it. 
“Come on, Law. Pick up.” Whispering, you cross your fingers.
“(Y/N)-ya? Why are you-”
“I really need you to stay on the line, okay? I’m going to facetime you now, alright?”
“What? Why? (Y/N)-ya, I have to go back to work-”
“(.....)’s cheating on you with my boyfriend right now as we speak. Don’t believe me? Listen!” You put your phone against the door, and all you heard was silence on Law’s side of the phone. A groan of (.....)’s name leaving Eustass’s mouth finally made you snap.
“That’s it!” Busting open the door, your met with a half-naked Eustass and a very naked (.....).
“Shit (Y/N)!”
“(Y/N)! It’s not what it looks like!” Clutching your phone tightly in your hand, you finally feel your anger bubble over.
“Don’t pull that shit with me! If your gonna be a backstabbing whore at least admit it! Fucking my boyfriend?! The boyfriend you hated?! Did you just want to fuck him the whole time?! How long has this been going on?!” You watched as (.....) scrambled to get her clothes on, and Eustass pushed his dick back in his pants.
“This is the only time it’s happened, I swear!”
“This is all an accident (Y/N), okay? I promise-”
“Oh, so your dick accidentally found its way into her? I don’t believe that for a second! And don’t tell me about your bullshit promises!” You can feel the cut on your hand finally start to sting as blood starts to puddle against the floor. The cut must have been much deeper than you originally thought.
“You're bleeding! (Y/N) are you okay?!-”
“Oh, don’t act like you care (.....)! If you actually cared, you wouldn’t be fucking my boyfriend in my bed! If you actually had a fucking heart, you wouldn’t have cheated on Law either!” The mention of Law's name has a look of horror appear on (.....)'s face.
“Please don’t tell him (Y/N)! I love him, and I don’t want him to leave me!”
“I’m breaking up with you.” (.....)’s face dropped when she realized Law heard everything. Tears start pouring down her face.
“That makes two of us.” You take off the ring Eustass gave you before walking over to (.....) Plopping it into her hand, you look at her with hatred and a disgusted smile.
“Obviously, this was meant for you since he loves you so much he can’t stop saying your name.” You grab the bag you left by the bedroom door before turning around and start to collect things around the apartment that you need.
“I’ll make sure to tell the landlord that my name’s off the lease and that I’ll gather my things tomorrow morning.” Holding everything you could gather at the moment, you make your way to the front door.
“Where do you think you're going?!” You feel Eustass grab your wrist and bring you closer to him. Looking into his eyes, you see panic, fear, and anger swirling around in them. 
“Leaving, obviously! I’m not gonna stay and shatter my heart more after seeing a man I loved, wanted to marry even, fucking my now ex-best friend.” The panic grew more evident as he pulled you to his chest. Both arms wrapped around you so you couldn’t leave.
“You can’t leave, alright! I know I fucked up, but please, let’s talk about this. She means nothing to me! She’s just some slut-”
“A slut you fucked knowing you were taken.” Tears started spilling from your eyes as you felt him hold you closer. 
“Why? Why would you do this to me? Why’d you say you loved me when you out fucking my best friend? How dare you hold me close and act like the stench of sex and her perfume isn’t surrounding you?”
“I’m outside in the car (Y/N).” Hearing Law’s voice shocked you as you remember you never hung up on him. He was so quiet, and you heard nothing on the other side of the line. Having him even show up was surprising, but you weren’t gonna throw away this opportunity to get away from Eustass and (.....). 
“Alright, be right there-”
“No, she won’t! Fuck off, Trafalgar, and take your bitch with you!” Eustass grabbed your phone and hung up before throwing your phone on the couch.
“Eustass! Are you-” You feel one of his hands push your head to his. His lips met yours, and you could feel the urgency in his kisses.
“Please don’t…leave me…” Kissing your between words only had your heart shattering more. How could he kiss you like he loves you after pulling a stunt like this?
It took almost everything inside you not to dig your fingers into his hair and kiss him back. You wanted it all to be a dream and that when you woke up, you’d be sleeping against his chest. 
Putting your hand against his bare chest, you feel his bare skin against your open wound. It made him pull away from his panicked kisses when he felt your bloody hand on his chest.
“Jesus (Y/N)! What happened?!”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Stay here, I’m grabbing bandages!” Letting you go, you see him rush to the bathroom. Taking this chance, you grab your phone and start running out the door. Anything you can carry in tow, you run down the stairs as you hear (.....) scream your name and Eustass yelling at you to stop. 
But who was he to tell you what to do?
Bursting out the apartment complex’s door, you see Law’s car parked waiting for you. Using all your strength, you run as fast as you can. Grabbing the car door, You swung it open before slamming it shut. Everything you brought with you on your lap.
“Drive!” Wasting no time, Law stomps on the gas, and as you see Eustass run out of the apartment, watching you and Law drive away.
~~~
If you guys do want this to be an actual fic series, let me know cause this concept is quite interesting to me.
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staraxiaa · 3 months
Text
sunflowers, the afterword:
author's corner/first thoughts.
okay. so. i am insane. i am a god. i just wrote 18k words for a fic that i thought of, planned, and created fully in less than two days, bc someone said i like to make ppl suffer and yes i do. but then i was like, i am GOING to write fluff and i took it personally. to that one reader, thank you!! anyways. i wrote this with the intent of using the prompt "you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid" and barely even ended up using it. i don't know whether to laugh or cry. i hope it doesn't flop but also it's okay if it does bc i literally spent almost 48 hours brainrotting and word vomiting like it's out of my brain now and this feels glorious. it was random unfiltered thoughts and grinding away at 3am until i am empty. no thoughts left in my head. can you see? i could eat the world raw, the itch has been scratched. the sheer amount of motivation i had w this fic is never happening again. cheers! will update as i think of things! sorry to anyone who ends up reading this fully. i have been unreasonably fixated and have brainrotted over this for two hours, inclusive of sleeptime. while sleeping. i kid you not. i would wake up and something would click and i would hop over to the laptop and fucking grind away i am so sick of myself
unwritten scenes, headcanons
you guys are 20. you haven't started dating yet. you're a doctor. you guys are yelling at each other. you say 'you want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.' katsuki's so angry that he does. ⇁ this was the original ending btw but i thought this one kinda fit better he brings you sunflowers sometime. real ones. he's sneezing all the while. you take one look at him and you die of laughter. he's still sneezing. you tell him: you know i actually didn't even care about them until i found out you were allergic. ⇁ if i could write nsfw i would do it here like dude do u see the vision omfg a whole side plot where he's like what the fuck do you mean you weren't dating deku. you're like. what the fuck. are u stupid. someplace where you actually address how you treat midoriya, his lack of a quirk, and how you stood by and watched it all happen ua sports festival. you kick everyone's ass. #you have been trained by eraserhead and you are super duper cool i also don't remember if i included this, but: your mother asks you after the first evening. "you're not really friends are you." you say: "nope!" and it is the happiest she has ever seen you. the ua boys try to flirt with you and get hurt really stupidly a lot on purpose. you wonder why they've stopped showing up. it's bc katsuki gives them a whole earful. and you're like bitch what the fuck im a doctor and and hes just tsundere about it first kiss scene instead of the ending where he's like you care and you're like of course i do??? what the fuck?? are u stupid?? you guys start yelling at each other and you're both acting like ur 2. he calls you stupid and blind. you call him ugly. he's so mad he literally just lurches forward and kisses you. it's awkward and messy and you guys are so mad at each other. you literally headbutt him in the face. ah young love. ⇁ this was another alternative ending more exploration behind reader's character, her insecurities, and about some of the stuff i info dumped before the start of the katsuki povs? i feel like i didn't handle that as well as i could have, but i also didn't want to go on 10 billion tangents for things that had very little relevance to the story. i also think the transition to the last scene was a little abrupt, but tbh at that point i was just so ready to call it like. i just didn't see the point. i think it would have made for a more natural reading experience, so here's the tea: he's proud of u but u guys are angsty and ignore each other until after training camp. [more brainrot pining moments]. if i had to write the above scene, i think i'd do something along the lines of: you're first aid relief at the sports festival, not actively participating. dunno if you'd be nearly as badass, though. you definitely get pissed when they muzzle katsuki and probably get rly mad but ofc u cant show it. so u just unmuzzle him and walk away and hes staring after u. this is ur ??? elsa arc? i dont remember the disney princess. the training camp is torture. aizawa makes u run with them. you tell him straight up that u hate his guts. he grins like that is the best thing anyone has told him in his life. katsuki definitely blows up some earth monsters for u. but while ur not looking. he's angsty like that. the bath scene? oh lord u just know he blows mineta up. maybe he lowk fucks it up too and you have to heal it! the potential HAHAHA. i dont know how you end up getting kidnapped, but id probably just bullshit a reason like ur the #1 healer in the world hurr durr and afo wants u! idgaf if the plot makes sense or not this is entirely secondary to my scheming. katsuki just about loses it when he hears you're one of the targets -> how you get kidnapped? idk. you're not a remedial student, so you're probably participating in the game (odd number of ppl right). unsure of how i'd handle the news of your kidnapping: just know katsuki loses it again. for like the 5th time. yipppeeeeee
character notes, thoughts
your quirk is literally just you take people's injuries into your own body and heal it yourself. you're superhuman. i put 2 thoughts into this: 1) you're a healer and 2) i like cool characters. congratulations. you have now been born. i don't even remember if i kept the shouto scene. but anyways i think my bias was showing. just had to throw him in there. also the kuroo mention. sorry i'm totally normal and i mean it ⇁ btw i love you all (everyone who likes/interacts with my fics) but i joke to my friends everytime someone interacts w my first bakugo/midoriya ones from lacuna bc guys!!! my shoto fic is RIGHT THERE!!! the baby that launched the entire collection. please show him some love this reader is probably one of the favorite ones i have written, more of an oc at this point i think, and i wasn't expecting her to grow on me so much. but lowk i love her and am so proud of the way i wrote her growth!! i do feel like i wrote her very soft, but i hope her flaws were made very clear⏤ she is meant to be a sort of unreliable narrator, so she also is overly critical of her own, but there were several things that were not addressed as i was writing, particularly concerning midoriya. (quirk, the bullying, bystander's guilt.) however, i think that including them would have made me go off on a tangent, and detract more from the main point of the story i also do think i wrote katsuki a little ooc, if only because i didn't see the point of including what's already there in canon. sorry. my brainrot did not extend that far, and by the end of this, i was literally ready to drop. his perspective isn't meant to be all-encompassing (in the story, it may seem like it purely bc of how i paced it) but those are meant to be like. random thoughts that appear in several scenes. reader does not have bakugo living rent free in her head 24/7, and neither does he. they're just stupid and pining and i just wrote all the moments in my head where they do.
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bluebeary-jay · 1 year
Text
Halcyon days
Based on this ask (i was stupid and started writing all this as a new post and not an answer im sorryyy)
Tags: fluff. INSANE amount of tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, takes place after the events of season 1
Warnings: none? there is swearing and suggestive humor tho ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Word count: ~3K
A/N: My sweet anon I'm sorry that I didn't write the 'looking for a place to sleep' bit but I got carried away with your lovely request and it was already longer than I expected lol. I really hope you like it!! 💕 and thank you for being my first request! 😊
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You shielded your eyes from the sun and shook your hand again, signaling for Joel to take it.
“Come on, you always whine about your back pains. It’ll do you good.”
“You think lyin’ on the cold hard ground will help me with that?” he asked with tongue in cheek.
“It's actually really soft. Come on, give it a try.” You patted the spot next to you, but the man still didn't move, scouting the area around you instead. You sighed heavily. “Alright, if it's too hard for your back I'll let you lay on me. Happy?”
Joel gave you a sultry look and finally intertwined his fingers with yours.
“I can already tell the ground will be really uncomfortable,” he said teasingly in this sexy drawl of his and you squinted at him.
“Sure you can.”
Joel craned his neck before he let himself get pulled down, and cupped his free hand around his mouth.
“Hey, kiddo!” he yelled to Ellie who was squatting near a small creek down the hill you were lying on. “You alright there?!”
“Yeah, yeah!” the girl shouted back, waving to you both. “Don't come down here, yet!”
“Okay! We’ll be right here if you need anything.”
“Sure thing! Just don't start shagging.”
You choked on air and looked in disbelief in the direction of Ellie’s voice, though you couldn't see the teen from where you were lying, as the view was obscured by high grass.
“Christ, this kid is impossible,” you mumbled as Joel sat down next to you with a loud grunt.
“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know. You didn’t hear her giving me so-called ‘relationship advices’ yesterday. And no,” he added when you opened your mouth, “m’not gonna repeat them to you. It was painful enough to have to endure it alone.”
“You know what they say,” you quirked your lips and he sent you a glare.
“I swear to god, if you quote that dumb comic again…”
You snorted, knowing he was saying it with fondness, judging by his tone and a tug of the corners of his lips. Joel shook his head and laid down slowly on the grass, closing his eyes. You cosied up next to him on your stomach and propped your chin on your hands.
For a couple of seconds you just admired his features and slow rise and falls of his chest, enjoying the quiet atmosphere around you and listening to the crickets chirping and birds singing in the tree crowns.
But of course he didn’t let you indulge yourself, because before long he cracked one eye open and sent you a suspicious glance.
“Why’re you staring?”
“You’ve got something on your cheek,” you answered without missing a beat. Joel wiped his face with an irritated look while you tried your hardest not to laugh out loud.
“Is it still there?” he asked, but you winced and tilted your head discontentedly.
“You just smudged it more. Hold on a second.”
He sighed tiredly and closed his eyes again when you shuffled closer, partially draping yourself over his torso. One of his arms automatically encircled your waist to cuddle you up while he kept the other one under his head. You smirked to yourself and took his face between your hands, pretending to hum in focus. After a couple of seconds Joel cracked his eye open and glanced up at you.
“Jesus, I can feel you burning a hole in my skull. Is my head covered in fungi, or something?”
“Not yet,” you joked. “Keep your eyes closed.”
He exhaled heavily again and relaxed under you, totally oblivious to the mischievous smirk on your face. You faked scraping something off his cheek and when you were pretty sure he lowered his guard, you surged forward and quickly gave the bridge of his nose a small peck.
Joel’s eyes immediately snapped open and a surprised – and then delighted – smile spread across his face.
“What are you doin’?”
“Nothing at all,” you answered innocently, but this time you couldn’t hide a sly grin threatening to split your face in half. “I told you you have something on your cheek.”
Joel made a sound of fake acknowledgment and took his other hand from under his head to pull you even closer and on top of himself. You giggled when he nudged your nose with his, trailing his fingers up and down the back of your neck.
“On my cheek, you say?”
“Mhm.”
“I don’t think you got it, then. You aimed at my nose,” he mused cheekily, making you laugh again.
“Oh, you’re right! Silly me.” You leaned in and kissed his jaw this time, smiling against his facial hair. “Let me…” another kiss, this time on his forehead, “...try again, then…” another, next to his eye, “...just to be sure.”
It wasn’t often that Joel let you (and himself) be so affectionate when you weren’t alone, but you guessed Ellie was far enough that he didn’t worry about it now. Or maybe he was just in a good mood – it happened a lot more often lately.
After everything that transpired in the hospital, you were worried Ellie wasn’t going to believe his version of events and shut herself off, but whether the teen still doubted your and Joel’s words or not, she didn’t seem eager to distance herself from you two.
Which was a damn big relief for you, and even a greater one for Joel – not that he’d ever admit it.
Anyone who would bother to look could see that the man was a lot happier lately. He found his brother, he had you, and he didn’t lose Ellie like you knew he feared. The three of you still went on trips outside of Jackson – or like Ellie liked to call them, ‘spontaneous adventures’ – and this was one of the places you personally liked the most. A secluded meadow with a hill overgrown with flowers and leading down to a small torrent at the base of it. Noone has ever ventured so far beyond the especially-hard-to-cross portion of the river, but the place was worth the effort as it was so beautiful, it looked like it was pulled out of a fairy tale.
Speaking of beautiful, Joel cupped your cheeks and let his warm gaze rove over your face as if he wanted to commit it to memory. You were just about to ask if you had something on your face as well, when he spoke up quietly.
“Do you have any idea how goddamn gorgeous you are?” he asked, brushing the strands of your hair out of your face.
“Stop it,” you snapped back, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, but Joel tsked, guiding your chin to look at you again.
“You are,” he said, sounding almost surprised at how bashful you got, before his lips stretched into a smirk. “Are you just fishin’ for compliments, darlin’? Denyin’ it so that I can praise you more?”
“I’m not!” You laughed at the sheer thought of that and Joel took that opportunity to plant a kiss above your mouth. “If anything, you’re just trying to rile me up and get me to compliment you.”
“Don’t even try,” he warned you seriously, but you just shrugged with a playful expression.
“Well, I have to remind you sometimes how good-looking you are,” you whispered against his lips, smiling brightly when you felt his breathless chuckle.
“Shut up.”
“Not until–”
He cut you off by sliding his hand to the back of your neck and pulling you up carefully so he could kiss you deeply. You smiled into the kiss, knowing very well what he’s doing, but not minding it in the slightest.
“You’re trying to distract me,” you accused him when the two of you parted, but he shook his head and tutted. His thumb was brushing your cheek slowly and your body burned in all places he was touching you. You reminded yourself about Ellie’s words and tried to calm down.
“Nah. You had somethin’ on your face, too, and I wanted to return the favor.”
He was so silly sometimes, you almost couldn’t believe that those hands were capable of anything else than caressing your skin so lovingly.
“Liar,” you whispered, earning yourself a low chuckle.
“I could say the same about you.”
You couldn’t help the squeal that escaped you when he turned you over in a swift motion so that now you were lying on your back with the man hovering above you. Whatever protests you might’ve had, they were swallowed down by Joel’s lips on yours, and you hummed happily at the feeling of his touch.
The two of you took several minutes to enjoy each other’s company to the fullest, planting lazy kisses on your faces and whispering silly words of affection. At one point Joel sighed contently, peppering the edge of your jaw and neck with soft kisses, and then laid his head on your chest. One of his arms snaked around your waist to hug you tighter and he closed his eyes.
You pressed your lips together not to giggle, and started to slowly run your fingers through his hair. He groaned and you felt his muscles relaxing under your touch.
“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmured and you kissed the crown of his head softly.
“Maybe that’s exactly my plan. You don’t get enough rest.”
“Stop,” he said again, though he didn't make any attempt to pull away or stop you himself. “Someone's gotta keep an eye on everything.”
“I’ll make sure we’re safe,” you shushed him, gently scratching the spot behind his ear, to which he made a sound not unlike purring. You suppressed a smile. “Besides, I’ve never seen an infected around here. The chances of something stumbling upon us…”
“...are much higher if we let our guard down,” he finished, his hand going to the gun lying on the grass on his other side to make sure he could reach it quickly. “I don’t want something to happen to you or Ellie.”
“I know, love,” you whispered, kissing his forehead again, trying to make some of those worry wrinkles disappear. “Just close your eyes for a moment. I’ll make sure nothing happens during this time.”
He sighed again and nuzzled his head more into your chest. “You’re a treasure, darlin’.”
“Obviously,” you murmured in response and felt his chest rumble with quiet laughter. “I love you, you know?”
“Love you, too.” He shook his head lightly, but the smile didn’t fade from his face. “Even though you’re a menace.”
“Shut up and relax already. I’ll stand guard.”
He just grumbled again. You took a deep breath of summer air and looked up to the sky.
*****
You didn’t plan on falling asleep.
Even before you opened your eyes, having registered a tip of a shoe nudging your arm and rousing you from your nap, you felt this terrible, gnawing feeling of guilt and panic. Joel would kill you if…
But no, he was still asleep with his head lying heavily on your chest. You sighed with relief and opened your eyes, squinting at Ellie standing above you.
“Finally! How loud do I have to ‘psst!’ for you to wake up? Jesus, I started to think you both are dead.”
You grumbled and rubbed your eyes. You felt dizzy, but that was always the case when you fell asleep in the middle of the day. It was an hour or so before sunset now, and the field you rested on was bathed in a warm, orange glow.
“Not dead,” you yawned drowsily and nodded at the teen. “What’s up?”
Ellie pointed at Joel. “Wake up the old man.”
You furrowed your brows. “What? Why?”
“Because I want to push you both down the hill,” she whispered in a mocking tone and rolled her eyes when you lifted your eyebrows. “I have something to show you, if you really need to know.”
She did have one of her hands hidden behind her back, so it wasn’t completely unlikely. Still, something about it smelled fishy.
“Why didn’t you wake him up yourself?” you asked in a whisper, too, honestly surprised that you both still had to keep your voices down. Usually the slightest sound woke Joel up, but now he didn’t even stir. Ellie groaned and pointed her hand at you both, like it was obvious.
“Because last time he gave me a bunch of shit about it! And he won’t be mad at you if you do this.”
She had a point, if you wanted to be honest with yourself. Normally you would tease her for it, but lately Ellie rarely acted so secretive and excited, so you decided to humor her this time.
“I’ll blame it on you if he gets angry at me.”
“I’ll really push you down the hill if you do.”
You stick your tongue out at her, which Ellie mirrored, before rolling your eyes and shifting your attention to the man still lying motionlessly on top of you.
“Joel…” you mumbled into his skin, brushing your fingers through his hair lightly. A low grumble issued from his chest and you chuckled despite yourself, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly. You pretended not to hear Ellie gagging in the background. “Come on, I know you’re not asleep.”
He sighed heavily and finally opened his eye, but then he shifted his gaze to Ellie’s form, and let his eyelid drop again.
“Get rid of the kid,” he murmured, snuggling back into your chest.
His head started to shake from the laughter reverberating inside your chest and Ellie gasped indignantly, now having no reservations about going around you and kicking Joel’s leg.
“Fuck off and get your lazy ass up!”
Joel sighed martyrly, as if that was the greatest sacrifice somebody could demand from him, but finally got up, freeing you from under his weight but also depriving you of his safe embrace. He looked at Ellie and lifted his eyebrows, waiting.
The girl in question grinned and pulled a bunch of flowers from behind her back.
Before you realized that it actually wasn’t a bouquet, but several flower crowns, Joel was already shaking his head and actually backing away. “No. No way.”
“Oh my gosh, they’re beautiful, Ellie!” you admired her work, not paying attention to the man behind you, and shifted closer to get a better look. “Where did you learn that?”
“One of those books Tommy gave me had a guide how to do it,” Ellie explained with a wide smile. It surprised you a little that she’d be so enthusiastic about a skill like that, but then she turned back to Joel and her eyes glinted with mischief. “C’mon, try it on.”
“No.”
“Can I pick one?” you asked, once again ignoring your partner. Ellie shook her head, now not even trying to hide a proud, mocking grin that widened when she saw how reluctant Joel was.
“No. Yours is the one with those small yellow shits.” You snorted at the name Ellie gave tiny, round flowers, but put it on immediately. The girl held the crown made out of blue and purple flowers on her lap, and stuck out the last one with small pink and white flowers in Joel’s direction. “And that’s all yours.”
“No,” he repeated. You sat next to Ellie and turned to him with a fake pout on your face.
“Joel, we don't turn down gifts. It's not polite.” He glared at you as you leaned on Ellie’s shoulder. “Ellie has worked on it for so long, think how exhausting it must've been!”
“Look at my poor, tired hands,” Ellie sighed dramatically, lifting her hands and wiggling her fingers, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.
Joel looked from her to you with a grimace. You mouthed ‘please?’ to him and he groaned, running his hands down his face.
And then – making Ellie snort and you jump excitedly in place – he took the flower crown from the girl and all but dropped it onto his head.
“Joke’s on you, because I know for a fact pink looks great on me.”
“Glad you think so, because…” Ellie trailed off with a shit-eating grin and threw her backpack on the ground, quickly rummaging through it. You grabbed onto Joel’s arm before he had a chance to escape when she pulled out one of those old cameras with a flip screen, making him sigh even louder. “Now move your ass.”
While Ellie was positioning herself between the two of you and turning on the device, you quickly lifted Joel’s hand to your lips behind her back, kissing his fingers with a grateful smile. He seemed to have given in to his fate, not making any attempt to move away or talk his way out of it, just rubbing his brow with a tired expression. The smallest of smiles found its way onto his face when he felt your lips on his skin and he glanced up at you with fondness.
“You two will be the death of me,” he muttered, and Ellie poked him in the ribs with her elbow.
“Shut up and smile. We don’t have much sunlight left.”
You scooted over closer to Ellie to fit in the frame, squinting a little from the reddish-orange sun blinding you from behind a cloud above the horizon. The girl snapped one photo and made a different face, and in that split second your eyes darted to Joel’s in the small screen of the camera.
He still looked very reluctant to be in a photo, but you could see he was trying to hold back a smile.
He did look good in pink. And you meant the flowers as well as the small blush adoring his cheeks.
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coryosbaby · 5 months
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i saw that you wrote for donnie darko a while ago and since i’m currently fixating on him i present a very intriguing concept: stepbro!donnie.
i feel like he’d love the taboo aspects of it and would have no trouble justifying it to himself bc it’s not like you’re related.
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18+, MDNI !! stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), suggestive content , kissing
No cs he literally would. In the movie he’s all about “I don’t want to fuck my family, that’s weird.” But with you, he doesn’t even view you as family— not really, anyway. Sure, your parents are together but at the end of the day there’s no blood relation, right? It’s not normal to daydream about tit fucking your sister, either, so— yeah. Definitely doesn’t view you as a relative.
He’s a total horn dog. I can imagine him making a move on you for the first time when you’re both watching a movie— some dumbass sex scene comes on and suddenly his dick is springing up and he’s subtly placing a pillow across his lap. He watches your concentration on the screen, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth.
“Why do they always decide to fuck in these movies?” You question. You say this because you’re both watching some random slasher with an unnecessary amount of girl on boy sex scenes. “There’s like, a killer on the loose. How stupid can you be?”
He shrugs. His hand moves to the bulge in his pants.
“Spur of the moment, I guess,” he replies. “Can’t really control it once it starts.”
“And what would you know about the art of intimacy?”
It’s a joke, an innocent little jab that usually has Donnie firing back with something like, “you’re one to talk,” and then making a joke about your empty dating history— but he doesn’t do that this time. No, you’re too pretty. He’s too horny. He needs to break the ice before he lands hard on his ass and doesn’t get back up.
“Wanna find out?”
Your pupils dilate, eyes a bit wide and freaked out when you hear the (incredibly impulsive) words spill from your stepbrother’s lips. But also— and only Donnie would notice this, seeing you all the time and all, and not because he thinks about you every waking moment— you seem to be intrigued. Your eyes scan over his body and move back up to his face.
“Is that a rhetorical question?” You tease, and let out a nervous chuckle. “You wish. I’d never fuck your virgin ass.”
“How’dya know if you’ve never tried it?” And he gives you that shit eating grin when he’s really amused, the one that makes your stomach do flips. “You could kiss me instead, then. See if you like it.”
“I’m not kissing my brother.”
“Stepbrother,” he corrects. His legs spread apart, almost like an invite. You pretend not to notice. “C’mon, kid. don’t be a pussy.”
He calls you kid even though you’re only one month younger than him. He does this because he knows it irks you. You roll your eyes, licking your plump bottom lip.
“Whatever,” you mumble, then you groan. “Come here, then. But if you slip me tongue, Darko, I swear to god I’ll tell your English professor that you cheated on your exams last year.”
He begins scooting closer, his jean clad thigh pressing against your bare one, and he seems very giddy.
“Won’t give you tongue,” he replies. “I swear it on my life.”
You give an annoyed hum. Donnie’s arm goes behind you on the back of couch, and you can smell his cologne and the dial soap he uses in the shower. When neither of you makes a move— an awkward stare into each other’s eyes, faces a few inches apart, Donnie’s eyes filling with something you can’t quite make out— you utter, “Well, are you going to do it or not?”
Instead of replying, he just.. goes for it. He presses his mouth to yours in a smooth peck. But fuck, he’s so hard, and he’s wanted this for so long. He goes back in for another, mouth opened slightly, awkward. Virginal. The two of you kiss like this because that’s exactly what the both of you are— virgins. When you pull away from him, his lashes flutter open and he grins again. You want to kiss him some more— maybe his tongue in your mouth wouldn’t be so bad. But you hold back, eyes blinking.
“This is really fuckin’ weird, Donnie.”
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:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz
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sp0o0kylights · 1 year
Text
 Part Five Part Two / Part Six YOU ARE HERE. / Part Seven
A03
"No come back here and hug me dammit!"
"I told you it'd be funny." Gareth stage whispered to Steve the following Monday, as Eddie proceeded to cause his usual amount of chaos in the lunchroom.
Tiff just shook her head.
"Come on, just do it and then tell everyone I'm better!" Eddie shrieked again, loud enough to be heard across the school. Possibly into the parking lot, given the winces and glares their peers tossed Eddie's way.
Jeff had his own head in his hands having been Eddie's prior cuddle victim and still suffering the consequences from it.
"I hate you." He groaned, and every single person knew he was talking to Gareth. "I cannot believe you told him his stupid hugs didn't even compare to Steve's. He almost broke my back this morning!"
Which wasn't an understatement--Gareth himself had dodged his best friend's aggressive hugs only by bolting to his first class, then acting like a ninja as he snuck about all day.
He'd even dropped to the floor and army-crawled at one point.
Now he stayed close to Steve, blatantly using the jock as a meat shield.
"Anyone have any ideas on how we can get him to chill out?" Stewart asked, from where he'd taken refuge under the lunch table.
Their second eldest member put up with many things, but drew the line at bodily injury by overly affectionate metalhead.
"Same as always." Jeff grumbled, making sure Gareth saw his glare. "We wait him out."
"Tiff!" Eddie whined, whirling around, hands reaching out for her.
"You touch me Munson and I'll burn the trigonometry notes I promised you." Tiffany threatened without looking up from her book.
"Fine." Eddie wheeled right back around. "Graaaaant-!"
"This could take days!" Stewart complained, acting like a man caged. "I can't wait much longer!"
'Dramatic, the whole lot of them.' Gareth thought fondly, knowing he was just as bad.
"Okay. Seriously, how are we fixing this?" Jeff said sourly, as Grant once again picked Eddie up by his jacket and bodily threw him as far away as he could.
Like an eldritch being from a B horror movie, Eddie simply bounced back up and came for him again.
"His issue is that he thinks I'm the better cuddler, right? Nothing else?" Steve said thoughtfully.
"Yes." Groaned the other four in unison, as Grant laid a hand on Eddie's forehead, the latter pinwheeling his arms like a cartoon character.
Steve nodded once, before his face morphed into something devastatingly smug. "Yeah we're screwed."
Jeff switched targets from Gareth to glare at Steve instead. "Really Harrington?"
"I'm back to Harrington now? Jeff, man, you wound me." Steve faked a gasp, putting a hand over his heart.
It made Gareth grin, if only because Steve wouldn't have done that a month ago. "God I love when you're a bitch."
Steve looked over at him and winked.
"Just for that, we should make you cuddle with him." Stewart grumbled. "Tell him he can decide for himself who's better!"
Which of course killed the playful look on Steve's face.
Two pairs of shoes proceeded to kick at Stewart (who dodged Jeff's only to be nailed by Tiffany's far more tactical aim.)
Except when Gareth though about it, it actually wasn't a half-bad idea.
If one pitched it right.
"You know," Gareth said slowly, a plan forming. It was half-baked, but it'd work. "--you could end this pretty easily if you did. You  have the power."
"Are we being serious right now?" Jeff grumped. "This does not feel like we're being serious."
Gareth ignore him.
"You up for one last cuddle, Sir Carrington?"  He asked, playfully.
He got a flat look in return. "You've got to be kidding me. You're seriously suggesting the solution here is for me and Eddie to cuddle."
"I am indeed." Gareth said with a grin. "So long as it's an absolutely terrible cuddle."
That got an interesting reaction.
"Good luck, I'm an amazing cuddler." Steve huffed, offended--and it looked like he actually believed it.
A curiosity, considering even with everyone announcing themselves before touching him he still got jumpy.
"Then pretend." Gareth wheedled. "You don't even have to do it for that long. Sneeze in his ear and he'll be done for."
He got a few grossed out looks for that, but it was worth it all to see Steve growing more comfortable with the idea.
"If I were to do anything of the sort I wouldn't sneeze in his ear." The jock retorted, but he looked contemplative.
"I'm sure you could come up with something else. " Gareth suggested, and gave his best, award winning smile as he said it. "You're creative when cornered."
No ulterior motives here, no sir!
"I know what you're doing, Gareth." Steve said, calling him out immediately. "But I might be convinced to take a hit for the team--for a price. My reputation would be on the line."
"What do you want?" Stewart asked immediately, more than a little desperate as Eddie carried on in the background.
"Well..." Steve trailed off, slowly meeting each and every one of them in the eye. "what are you offering?"
"You know what?" Jeff said, putting his head back in his hands. " Just for that, you and Gareth both are on my shit list."
"I'll bake you those marble brownies you wanted and get right back off it." Steve said, the smug air only growing as Jeff sighed loudly.
"Name your price, Harrington." Stewart said, talking over Jeff's second, overly dramatic sigh. "You want some D&D treasure, or an item for your character? You got it. You want a fucking," He paused, eyes scrunching up in thought. "--new basketball? Or whatever sport ball you're into right now?"
"Not even close." Steve told him.
Jeff sighed a third time, loud and obnoxious.
"Why does this always fall down to me?" Tiff asked the ceiling, as though God himself might respond back with the answer. She tilted her head back down, aiming to make eye contact with Steve. "You're in Rucker's class right? I'll write your poly-sci paper. Highest grade I will guarantee is a B, and that is because it would be suspicious if you looked like you suddenly had strong, A-grade opinions on current, geopolitical policies."
Steve snapped and pointed towards her. "Sold!" He called, mimicking an auctioneer.
Smooth as butter, he turned towards Hurricane Eddie. "Hey Munson!"
In two seconds the jock had summoned that cocky persona of his, wearing a smarmy smile like a cloak. It was getting easier and easier to tell which "bitchy Steve" was the real one and which one was a total front.
(Tiffany had decided the man was a mean girl at his core and honestly, the label stuck.
But Mean Girl Steve was a hell of a lot different than King Steve--or any of the other overly confident swaggering personas Steve adopted like a second skin.)
For for all the preparation he'd had, was still rigid most of the time Gareth had occupied his lap, only relaxing when the younger boy had gotten Eddie so wound up their eldest friend couldn't form coherent sentences.
Now, as Steve strode over and issued the challenge of a cuddle off during the next Hellfire game, he was already less stiff.
Eddie had that effect on people. Particularly ones who had crushes on him.
"This is the stupidest thing I've ever been involved in." Tiffany complained.
"Is it Tiff? Is it really?" Jeff challenged as he finally sat up.
"She's definitely forgetting the purple griffin incident." Grant said, completely ignoring what was going down on the other end of the table as he took advantage of Eddie being distracted to make his escape.
"Fine." Tiff conceded before anyone could list anything else off, "But it's at least in the top five."
"This Friday, Harrington." Eddie announced loudly then, fire in his eyes and a finger in Steve's face. "Me and you. It is on."
"Hope you're ready to lose." Steve taunted.
It was hilarious as it was ridiculous.
Which meant of course, that dumb shit had to get in the way of it.
xXx
Steve backslid the next morning.
Worse, he kept backsliding, growing worse throughout the week until the person left looked a whole lot like the guy they’d dragged to their table all those months ago.
He sat silently next to Eddie during lunch, only speaking if asked a direct question, all banter and playful bitchiness gone.
He avoided Hellfire’s members in the hallway, Stewart reporting he had been uncharacteristically silent during their one shared class.
Most damning?
He’d flinched when Eddie had done their dumb little “shoulder bumping” routine.
Which officially meant that ghost Steve was back.
(“I didn’t realize how Steve was our little ray of sunshine and positivity until he stopped being it.” Tiff complained, idly spinning a pencil in the library. “Worse, I didn’t think I’d miss it.”
Gareth, who definitely wasn’t skipping again, agreed wholeheartedly.)
Not even Eddie's antics got a smile out of Steve. He really tried too, to the point where Gareth was starting to worry his best friend was going to do something dramatic just to get a little chuckle.
Steve at least, picked up on the fact he was freaking out all of Hellfire when Grant started to get blunt with his questions.
A part of Gareth (the part that appreciated Grant’s bluntness, instead of the rest of him, that wanted to duck and cover in case it made things worse) was curious if this would finally get Steve to open up; but instead it just made things worse.
Within two direct “No really dude, what's wrong?” ’s, Steve retired the haunted act and instead brought the downright freaky return of one Hawkins' jock's doing a real good job at pretending he was okay.
Pity for him this wasn't Tommy H or the rest of the public Steve was trying to fool.
This was a group of people who tended to be hyper aware of things, ranging from their surroundings to their people. (And then went on to play, as Steve regularly teased them, “one giant math game about it.”)
Not a single one of them was fooled by the act, or the evasive answers Steve pulled out of his ass when the rest of them all, individually, in their own way, tried to figure out if their newest member was okay or just having a few bad days.
"He told me he wasn't feeling good." Jeff said, worrying his lip with his teeth when they all finally convened together after school to discuss it.
"Are we choosing to buy that?" Tiffany asked, one eyebrow raised in a challenge. "He's been off since Tuesday. It's Thursday."
Grant huffed an agreement, arms crossed over his chest.
"Devils advocate, people are typically sick for more than one day." Stewart pointed out. "Dudes probably got allergies or something, it is the end of May."
"It's not allergies." Gareth said flatly.
Allergies usually came with symptoms like coughing and sneezing.
They did not come with vacant stares and falling over one's feet when their friends said hello in the hallway.
"Well clearly he doesn't want to talk about it so maybe he'll just…work himself out of whatever it is." Jeff reasoned. "I don't know if we should really push him about it."
"And miss out on another week's worth of baking?" Stewart bemoaned, as if Steve's lack of treats was the sole reason they were concerned.
Tiff swiped at him with her paperback.
Interestingly, Eddie had yet to say much on the matter. Everyone knew he was just as worried. The guy was a secret teddy bear, and they all still knew to warn him if a dog so much as got hurt in a movie. Worse, Steve was one of his "sheepies" as he so lovingly called them all, and was notoriously defensive of Hellfire as a whole.
Gareth had been eyeing him throughout their little gathering, watching as his best friend tapped his foot anxiously.
The guy seemed lost in his own head and while it wasn't completely unusual, it too, was odd behavior.
Gareth squinted at him, making eye contact and asking if he was alright with the kind of subtle facial expressions only best friends could pull.
Eddie didn't respond, but instead, looked away.
'That's a no.' Gareth thought, as the conversation around them wound down, without anyone coming up with any solid plans on what they were going to do about the Steve situation.
This is exactly how he ended up following Eddie home.
"Inviting ourselves over I see." The elder teen muttered out of the corner of his mouth as Gareth chased him to his van, hopping into the passenger seat instead of heading for his bicycle.
"It's a good night for a smoke sess." Gareth responded casually.
"You hate smoking weed." Eddie returned with a snort. "You prefer edibles."
"Just think of what we could do with Harrington's baking skills." Gareth replied wistfully--but made sure to watch his friend.
There it was. The slightest of weird expressions, flitting over Eddie's face like a shadow before he hid it back into whatever cage it escaped from.
"You're worried." Gareth guessed. Not like that was a hard one.
"Aren't we all, Gare-Bear?" Eddie returned, eyes never leaving the road.
He pretended like he couldn't feel Gareth scanning him, taking in the too tense shoulders and the shuttered, guarded look on his face.
"You know something." Gareth guessed after a moment.
The declaration made his best friend flinch, hands squeezing tight on the wheel.
'Got you.'
"Are you going to spill or do I have to blackmail it out of you?"
"Please Gary you have nothing you could blackmail me with." Eddie challenged with a snort. "I am shameless."
A challenge that could not be ignored, if only because Gareth wanted to remind him who had had the upper hand since Steve had crashed into Hellfire.
"Really? So you wouldn't mind if I show Steve those photos of the time we dressed up as a Barbie “ken doll” band for Jeff’s sister’s birthday? You know, the one were you were wearing that pink boa and the star glasses--”
A hand shot out, clapping Gareth over the mouth.
"Thank you, I got it!" Eddie said, voice an octave higher than normal. "Why do you still even have that!?"
"My mom." Gareth managed to get out, even if it was horribly muffled between Eddie's bony fingers.
"Curse that woman's thirst for nostalgia and scrapbooks." Eddie hissed, as if his mom was some grand villain.
"You love her crafts, you ass." Gareth rolled his eyes, wiping his mouth when Eddie finally removed his hand. "Now spill."
"I'm not sure this is what's causing it." The elder cautioned after a pause just long enough to be dramatic. "But rumor has it his parents are home."
"You think they're why he's acting all…" Gareth trailed off, unsure of what to compare Steve to and not wanting to say a kicked dog.
Eddie hummed in agreement. "Every time I walk into Steve's house, the place starts off feeling like a living tomb. There’s got to be a reason for that, and the only one I can think of is that his parents want that. The tomby-ness."
Gareth leaned back in his seat, contemplating. Turned the idea of Steve's mysterious parents over in his head, comparing it to how the guy's house did have a sort of museum quietness to it.
It wasn't that the place was huge, or even that Steve was typically its solo occupant beyond the occasional weekends one or both of his parents "popped in."
It was the perfectness of it.
How on any given day a photographer could show up to take pictures and the place would be camera ready.
A sort of--trophy house.
He went on to tell his best friend this.
"It’s like a shrine to their success." Eddie added an hour later, when they'd resettled onto his couch, trying to break down just what exactly about Steve's house made it so weird.
They'd shared a beer each--some gross kind that a cat couldn't have gotten buzzed off of, and Gareth had just finished helping Eddie select their chosen flower to roll when an awkward sound erupted throughout the trailer.
If Gareth knew any better, he'd say it almost sounded like someone was knocking on the shitty aluminum door.
Couldn't be though, because he'd never in his life heard someone knock--Eddie's uncle Wayne had a key, and every member of Hellfire was aware that the window in Eddie's room had a broken lock.
To get it open you just had to push at it from a specific angle, and with a few tugs it'd come right up for you.
The noise came again, this time a little louder.
Gareth looked to Eddie, and found his friend holding all the weed.
Understanding flashed between them, and Gareth stood up to answer the door as Eddie magically made the drugs disappear.
Thankfully, it wasn't the cops.
"Hey." Steve said, standing awkwardly on Eddie's porch, looking like he desperately wanted inside but wasn't sure he'd be allowed in. "Eddie said I could just come over if I needed to…?"
He trailed off, awkwardly miming smoking with his fingers.
Gareth couldn't hold in the snort.
"You're in luck man, because I just finished rolling a few." He said, stepping back to let their wayward jock in.
"Hey Stevie." Eddie drawled, now in the process of making the weed reappear. "Come in, have a seat, take a puff."
Rather than sit on the admittedly small couch, Steve chose instead to drop his ass to the floor, leaving the open spot above him to Gareth. He waited until the younger was seated before he leaned back, broad shoulders brushing both his friends legs as he relaxed.
Eddie’s hand twitched, as though he wanted to run it through Steve’s hair and thought better of it.
(Knowing him as Gareth did, that was very likely exactly what the weird little movement of his was.)
“You wanna tell us what’s goin’ on?” Eddie said softly, long after all three of them had an inhale of the joint Eddie had lit, sitting in relaxed silence. "Cause you've been pretty down, Stevie."
"Yeah." Steve agreed hollowly. "Sorry."
Eddie nudged his leg with a foot, then offered him the blunt again. "Don't apologize man, we can't all be sunshine and rainbows."
“You’d be surprised at how many people expect an apology for just that.” Steve muttered.
Gareth traded careful looks over Steve’s head, Eddie turning back and resolutely plowing on.
“You don’t have to, but talking tends to make people feel better.”
“Does it?” Steve asked, before taking a slow, measured inhale of the joint.
Idly he added; "Gareth you can't roll for shit."
"Fuck you dude!" The younger teen exclaimed, instantly offended, but knew a redirect when he saw one. "You try rolling them then!" He snatched the joint out of Steve's hands, huffing audibly.
It was an offer. If Steve didn't want to take the opening Eddie had given him, he could instead take the out Gareth had given.
The option reminded him of Alice in Wonderland (Gareth’s actual favorite movie, even if he tells everyone else it's The Empire Strikes Back)
Specifically when Alice was lost, standing before a split path and asking advice from the Cheshire Cat.
Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?" Alice asks.
The Cheshire Cat spins its head, smiling its smile as it answers;“ That depends a good deal on where you want to get to."
Steve proved himself to be a stronger man that Gareth had given him credit for, and took the harder path.
"My parents are home." He said, eyes glued to the TV in front of him, as if that would make the conversation easier.
Perhaps it did.
Eddie to his credit, didn't treat the declaration as anything important. "Yeah? They bring you something nice back from New York?"
"Florida this time and no."
Steve fussed with a thread on his sweater for a moment, a single yellow thread unspooling from the end. It looked like he’d been tugging at it a lot, a small imperfection on an otherwise expensive looking piece of clothing.
"Apparently I've been such a disappointment they're demanding I get a job." He began again. "They want me to learn the realities of hard work."
Gareth traded puzzled glances with Eddie.
Steve had never shied from hard work.
Everyone had heard the story of how he’d won over every coach in Hawkins' High’s favor. It was practically school legend, since he was the first freshmen to take up and finish some bullshit exercise challenge they hosted every year.
The guy even had a herd of some of the most obnoxious children he looked after, without pay.
There was no way the source of whatever was eating at him was a summer job.
Or perhaps, not just a summer job.
"Summer jobs fucking suck, but I hear that new mall’s finally finished.” Gareth said hesitantly. “You could probably get in somewhere there before you head off to college.”
"I'm not going to college. Didn't get into any." Steve said flatly.
Ah-ha.
"I only applied to the one Nancy made me." He added, still refusing to look at either of them. "Couldn't bring myself to apply to any of the others."
Which--odd, but it wasn't the oddest thing ever. Some people just didn't like school, or traditional learning methods.
No matter how much Gareth's counselor insisted otherwise.
"My dad found that out too." Steve said after a moment.
"College isn't the fucking answer to life." Gareth continued. "There's plenty of other things you can do."
Eddie’s head cocked, like a dog who’d been presented with a puzzle.
Steve shrugged. "That's not my issue with it, but the old man thinks it is. He keeps insisting that the free rides are over now." His voice kicked into a deep mockery of his fathers at the end, the condescending tone coming through loud and clear. “Thinks I'm here to screw my girlfriend and party my life away. Wouldn't hear me about not wanting to go to college, at all. Definitely didn't care that I broke up with Nancy." The last part was muttered, almost said more to himself and for himself than it was for them.
Eddie’s head tilted the other way.
"Did you have an idea of what you wanted to do?" Gareth asked. He figured it they knew, they might be at least able to help.
He got a shrug in response.
Gareth was about to open his mouth--probably to put his foot in it, but hell if Steve wanted help brainstorming what he did want to do with his life, or at least get positive support from someone who wasn't a rich asshole, it might as well start here.
Eddie beat him to the punch though, because as usual, Eddie was able to track the weird unspoken thing that no one else could pick up on.
"It's the kids, isn't it?" Eddie asked softly. Reverently. "You don't want to leave Hawkins, because of the kids."
Steve took another sip of beer, waving off the joint Gareth offered him. For someone who'd come to smoke he'd barely touched it or the beer, but then no one here would push.
It was pretty obvious, (to Gareth anyway) that the weed had been a flimsy excuse to begin with.
"When those damn kids started trying to trap the--dogs." Steve started, correcting his slip so smoothly Gareth almost didn't pick up that he'd intended to say something else. “I was the only damn adult they could find.”
Steve gave up fiddling with his sweater to tug angrily at his beer tab, twisting and pulling at it.
"They had figured out where the dogs would be. Had an entire meat bucket they wanted to use as bait and but I was the only damn person to try and at least wrangle the little shits. You wanna know how they found me?" He picked up steam now, and Eddie couldn't even be satisfied that he'd managed to hit the nail on the head because clearly whatever was happening here was the actual thing Steve needed to get off his chest.
"Football practice?" Gareth asked mostly to fill in the tension-filled pause, and then ducked from the swat Eddie aimed his way.
Steve blew out a harsh, mocking breath.
"Dustin found me on the way to Nancy's house, where I was planning on apologizing. Had flowers and everything."
Oh.
Steve's tone said a hell of a lot more than that, the raw emotion making Gareth's own stomach roll.
A careful glance showed an equally punched-out expression on Eddie's face, the metalhead having physically reared back like Steve's words had struck him.
"What were you apologizing for?" He asked, recovering faster than Gareth could.
"Honestly man? I don't know." Steve laughed then, a harsh little disbelieving noise. "I just knew Nancy had said--well she said some shit while drunk, and wasn't able to say some shit sober, and I realized after that maybe I--I rushed her or something you know?"
He ran a hand through his hair, a self soothing behavior. "Or that I did, fuck I don't know. She's Nancy Wheeler, she's smarter than me by a longshot, so if she was mad, than I figured I must be at fault." Steve shrugged, like that was a fact of life.
Eddie interrupted immediately. "She's not smarter than you."
"I--what?"
"Nancy isn't smarter than you.' Eddie repeated firmly. "She's booksmart, Stevie. School smart. Nancy Wheeler absolutely owns tests and papers and things you need to study for, and she’s a hell of a researcher--but she's not people smart."
"What?" Steve repeated incredulously and there Gareth caught a flash of bitchy Steve.
The real one, who'd been shoved aside by the apathetic version.
"Have you ever seen that girl get fixated on something? She's tenacious, gets her teeth in and won't let go.” Eddie snapped his teeth, shaking his head while growling like a dog.
Gareth rolled his eyes, but a ghost of a smile graced Steve’s face.
“But she hasn't figured out how that hurts people yet. She's caught up in getting the results. She's not intentionally unkind, she's just--a little out of touch." Eddie flopped back against the couch, making a grabby gesture for the joint Gareth now held. “People like you--”
Here, he poked Steve in the chest, before reaching past him to wave his hand obnoxiously in Gareth’s face for the joint (and get smacked at for the effort) “are people smart.”
"That's not--no." Steve protested head jerking from Eddie's fingers to Eddie's face, but it was weak, his eyes wide as saucers.
"Yes.” Eddie mocked, but it was in jest, proven by the easy, soft smile he gave Steve. “You said it yourself. The kids go to you, man. They go to you even now, when Nancy or Jonathan could be driving them all over town. You get people; how they work, how they tick, what makes them happy or sad, and people are drawn to you because of that.”
“Jonathan drives.” Steve muttered in disagreement.
“And yet we all witnessed the clown car act when all those kids came out of your backseat two weekends ago.” Eddie refuted. “You’re just as smart as Nancy is, Steve. Just in a different way.”
Steve frowned.
“My parents don’t see it like that.”
“Your parents can get fucked, Sweetheart.”
That was pushing it, but Steve didn't comment on the nickname. Never commented on any nicknames Eddie came up with, beyond the occasional eye roll.
Which is right about when the phone rang.
They all glanced towards it, then down at their respective watches.
It was well past midnight.
"Think that's Wayne?" Gareth asked, eyebrows raising as Eddie stood to answer the phone.
His friend just shrugged, before picking up.
"Munson Mortuary, you stab em we slab em." He chirped as he pressed the phone to his ear.
"Tiffy-Taffy isn't it kinda late for--whoa." Eddies easy smile flipped, back going ramrod straight. "Slow down, what happened?" And oh, shit, that was Eddie's "somethings wrong and I'm going to fix it" voice.
Gareth sat up, making sure the joint Eddie had put down was out as he stared worriedly at Eddie.
"Okay. Gareth and Steve are with me, we're all coming." Eddie finished, prompting Steve to also sit up. "Stay there and for the love of God, tell Stewart not to touch anything else."
"What happened." Steve and Gareth demanded as one.
It'd be funny if the look on Eddie's face wasn't so serious.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to break my promise about not going to the lab, Steve." He said, a hand going to tug anxiously at his hair.
"What?" Steve said, immediately on the defensive.
Then; "Why?"
"Because all our darling friends went to the Hawkin's lab without us. Apparently they ran into some kids on the way and now Stewart's stuck in a hole."
“All of them?” Gareth questioned, because sure, yeah he could see Stewart doing it. Could see Grant and even Jeff really, but Tiffany? Out exploring an abandoned lab that had killed people?
On a school night?
"She's gonna give us the full story when we get there, she called from the nearest payphone. Had some kid who kept interrupting her so she just gave me the basics, but apparently Stewart is really stuck, and for some reason the damn kids won't let anyone try to get him from some other door. They keep saying it's not safe or some shit." Eddie's anxious tugging grew as he moved to snatch up his wallet and keys, walking and talking as it were.
Gareth had expected a reaction out of Steve then, but  what he hadn't expected was Steve to surge to his feet in a near panic.
"Kids!?" He shouted, eyes wide and frantic.
Eddie flinched, but Gareth knew immediately what the jock was thinking.
"You don't think they're your feral pack of kids--do you?" He asked.
"It's always them so yes, yes I do." Steve snarled and for the first time that week, the guy looked alive.
Gareth just wished it was under better circumstances.
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ruskaroma · 1 year
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ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 2: you get me closer to god.
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Summary: John is a manipulator, and she, is the new subject of his obsession.
Warnings: this chapter contains stalking, mentions of large age gap, graphic descriptions of violence, and manipulation.
read the warnings. john is not only a menace, he is evilllll.
Author’s note: and we are back, baby. today, in this chapter, you are going to be witnessing a LOT of fucked up shit from none other than john wick himself. my man’s been doing a lot, god bless his poor soul.
also may i remind you all that the reader here is naive! she is stupid! she is not the brightest! she’s just desperate for attention and affection, so her decisions are always stupid and all of that. (please do not hate her, she is trying her best.)
this took me a while to write because it’s long asf and also because you know me, i always struggle with the english language, but i hope i won’t disappoint you with this chapter!
thank you so much for waiting and continuing to support this fic! really, it gives me a lot of motivation to keep writing, and i really appreciate all your sweet comments and reblogs on my last post.
i hope you also enjoy this new chapter since we’re going to have another peak of what goes on in john’s dark, dark mind. (I PROMISE THE SEX SCENE WOULD BE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER.)
and again, this is not edited so all mistakes are on me! i really do apologize, english is not my first language.
Word count: 10.6k
also read on AO3
In this business, you’d see different kinds of reactions when a man walks into a room.
They all see themselves above everybody else. They think they’re better, deadlier, smarter. That’s the kind of mindset you need if you want to survive. How will you get out of being held at gunpoint when you’re a weakling?
When a man walks into a room, they’ll take a moment to stare.
On the outside, you’d think these people have a lot of respect for one another since they all work in the same circle anyway. But in real life, you’d see the blatant lack of respect these people truly have for each other, because they’ll stare and judge.
When John walks into a room, it’s a different story.
Fear.
John is not like any other man in business they think they could just judge and get away with it, no. John is well respected and feared. He could see it in their eyes when he pass by. The extreme discomfort and alarm to be in the same presence as him. Even if they try so hard to hide it, John sees right through them.
They view him as… something but human. He’s a killing machine. An attack dog. A monster, some would even say. 
Back in the days, John wasn’t exactly fond of the names they’ve been giving him. When he was still new in the game, he didn’t like how he struck fear over these people because he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the power he truly has over them.
But now, something has shifted.
John is a free man. Not the kind of free when he was with Helen, but free nonetheless. Free because instead of getting alarmed with the fact that he’s feared all over this underworld, he’s taking advantage of it. Much to the higher ups dismay. They have been having a very hard time keeping up with his recent activities.
Growing up, it seemed like John got the worst sadistic discipline in Ruska Roma.
All of them did, don’t get him wrong. All of them suffered – blood, sweat and tears. They were all forced to go through extreme discipline, because it’s the crack of the whip that gets the rats going.
But John… John got the worst of it.
He used to take the fall for his fellow students. Fingers couldn’t count just how many times he was belted on the back for someone else’s mistake. The amount of times he was starved, denied of any kind of food or water, and that’s how it’s always been.
John has always been denied for the things he wanted. The things he needed.
Now, he is not greedy. He’s not just going to take everything in his way like a kid that got away from its parents’ grip, because he doesn’t want a lot of things. John already has a house, a dog companion, enough money to last forever.
John already has everything except her.
His most happy moments couldn’t compete with the hot curl within his guts that he feels every time his mind flashes back to that night. That night when she gave in, when she gave herself away to him – willingly. 
John didn’t need to give her a little push to finally get her. She practically offered herself to him, bared her neck and John’s itching to take a bite. To finally make her his once and for all, but really, he doesn’t need to do that to know that she’s his. 
Like he said, he’s not going to force himself into her life. He’s going to be welcomed. By the looks of it, it seems like it wouldn’t be such a hard thing to do after all. Not when she’s already giving up information about herself to John through texts – she’s practically making it easy for him to get her.
So naive. Doesn’t got a fucking clue in the world.
Mine. Mine. Mine. Fucking mine –
John looks at his phone, reading the messages both of them sent each other the night before, and there it is again. The itch in his hands, the need to possess.
13.06.15 11:46 PM
Bambi: hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night
13.06.15 11:46 PM
Bambi: also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!
John changed her name on his phone. He changed it to something more… intimate. More sweet. 
13.06.15 11:48 PM
John : I could never.
13.06.15 11:48 PM
John : You’re hard to forget.
He remembers – no, saw – how she responded. With a smile on her face, hopeful.
13.06.15 11:49 PM
Bambi : using my words against me, i see :D 
13.06.15 11:49 PM
Bambi : good to know you’re still as slick as the last time we chatted haha
13.06.15 11:49 PM
John : Hard not to. I wanted to impress you.
13.06.15 11:50 PM
Bambi : you already did.
13.06.15 11:50 PM
Bambi : with all your brooding and intimidating look. just my type ;D 
John smiles to himself as he reads the message. He remembers the look on her face when she’s typing, and hasn't got a clue that the man she’s flirting with was observing her just from across her building. John wouldn’t call it invading her privacy, he calls it keeping her safe.
13.06.15 11:50 PM
Bambi : anywho i asked for your number for a reason. i really do want to talk to you again. not just in chat, i mean, but also in real life :) 
13.06.15 11:50 PM
Bambi : maybe we could get to know each other more? what do you say??? meet up again, but this time planned unlike our other previous meetups?? haha
He is not a teenager to be feeling this giddy over reading messages, but she truly brings out something shameful in him.
13.06.15 11:51 PM
John : I should be the one asking you that.
13.06.15 11:51 PM
Bambi : you were taking too looonggg :( 
13.06.15 11:51 PM
Bambi : so what do ya think?
13.06.15 11:52 PM
John : Of course I’ll go. I told you I’d make time for you, didn’t I?
13.06.15 11:52 PM
John : I’m a man of my word.
13.06.15 11:52 PM
Bambi : ok that’s great! i was so worried you wouldn’t say yes.
John had averted his eyes from the phone that night and onto the little lady across the building. She was rolling around on her bed, still dressed in her pink, fluffy robe and her hair was still wet. She looks like a puppy that John wanted to pet; stroke her hair and tell her she’s his good girl.
13.06.15 11:52 PM
John : When do you want to meet? 
13.06.15 11:53 PM
Bambi : aahhhhh let’s see
13.06.15 11:53 PM
Bambi : i have classes tomorrow morning BUTTT we can def meet up during lunch! i get out of school at like 12 and go to work at 3 :D
I know, John wanted to say. I’ve memorized your everyday schedule in the span of two days.
13.06.15 11:53 PM
John : How about I pick you up from your school, we grab lunch, and I drop you off to work?
13.06.15 11:53 PM
John : Or is it too soon? 
13.06.15 11:53 PM
Bambi : oh my god no way REALLY?
13.06.15 11:53 PM
Bambi : nooo it’s not too soon don’t worry! you def could so we have more time to talk and everything! i just hope i won’t be bothering you or anything.
13.06.15 11:53 PM
Bambi : do you have work tomorrow? you look like a 9 to 5 kinda guy :P 
God, she’s fucking adorable. 
13.06.15 11:54 PM
John : I don’t, so you don’t have to worry. I’d love to talk to you more as well.
13.06.15 11:54 PM
Bambi : ok! i cannot wait for tomorrow. i should probably sleep now tho so i wouldn’t look shitty when you see me :D 
13.06.15 11:54 PM
Bambi : here is the address of my school. [Address]
13.06.15 11:54 PM
Bambi : can’t wait to see you tomorrow, john! goodnight, see you soon! x
13.06.15 11:55 PM
John : Goodnight, sweet girl. Have a good sleep.
John hadn’t meant to type that. He felt his heart drop to his stomach, terrified that he somehow scared her away with the sudden affection. But then he saw her read his message, dropped her phone on the bed, and then rolled over again like a lap dog.
She’s too easy to tame, so gullible. John almost couldn’t believe how fast she folded, how desperate she really is. But then again, he could say the same about himself. Lonely and desperate, they were meant to be together. He likes to believe God had put them in this position because of fate, because he has a plan for every single one of us.
John’s never been the one to believe in Him, but he finds himself grasping to that very little delusion that keeps him from going insane.
*
11:55 AM, the students are already making their way out of their designated buildings. 
John is keeping his guard on high alert, eyes scanning the crowd to find her. He’s parked just across the school gate, leaning against his car as he checks the time on his wrist. He’s also holding his phone in the other, waiting for it to vibrate in case she drops a message.
He’s never felt this giddy before. Hands clammy and eyes searching frantically, excited because he’s finally getting to spend alone time with her, but also worried in fear of losing her in the crowd. John doesn’t like it when he doesn’t have the upper hand. When he doesn’t have control of the situation. When she’s not in his line of vision and could be doing god knows what without his supervision.
He checks his phone again. 11:58, where is she?
John knows at this time, she should be out and about already, waiting for a cab to her apartment. His fingers itch, hovering over the screen of his phone. He begins contemplating if he should send a message, but that would make him look demanding and clingy. He doesn’t want to leave that kind of impression on her, or otherwise he’d have no choice but to abduct her and keep her locked away if she thinks about running –
He blinks, sucking in deep breath. 
“Shit,” he whispers, looking up to the school gate again. This isn’t good. What the fuck was he even thinking? 
John tries not to think about it. Tries to convince himself that he is not as fucked up as his mind is making him out to be. He wouldn’t stoop that low, he’s not that cruel –
Are you not?
A certain someone appears in the crowd, standing outside the school gate, already spotting John and waving at him from across the road. Her face is bright, smiling wide. John never wanted to possess something so bad.
He waves back, all his dark thoughts suddenly gone, and everything is rainbows and sunshine. John watches as she crosses the road carefully, looking left and right, seeming small with the people around her. She looks like a lost puppy.
John wants to pet.
“John, hey!” she beams, running up to him to give him a hug which catches John off guard. She’s on her tiptoes just to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders, and John doesn’t want to make her upset for not immediately reacting with her affection, and so he puts his arm around her waist and bends down to place his chin on her shoulder. 
He fights the urge to bury his nose in her neck, then maybe sucks a few hickeys, leaving a bite mark to show that the big, bad wolf has already marked his mate.
She’s so fucking easy to get, John thinks.
When she pulls away from the hug, John tries not to look disappointed. Her cologne lingers in his nose. “Sorry. Force of habit.”
“You don’t ever need to say sorry for that,” John says, faux stern as he places a hand on her waist subtly. She looks like she doesn’t mind, that’s a good thing.
“Okay then,” she smiles politely. “Oh, and I’m sorry if I look like a mess. Just say the words and I would totally change to more appropriate clothes before we go somewhere.”
“You look beautiful,” John says smoothly, standing up straight. Even though she looks underdressed next to John who’s wearing a three-piece suit, she is still heart-wrenchingly beautiful. In fact, John likes the contrast.
“T-thanks.”
“Should we go?”
“Sure! I’m excited,” she giggles, the sound practically dancing in his ear. “I’m hungry. Where will we eat?”
“Hm, what do you like?” he asks.
“Dunno. Burger and milkshake.”
“Sounds unhealthy.”
“The only thing I can afford, unfortunately,” she jokes, though John doesn’t answer, only opening the car door for her. “We should eat in a diner. I know a good one! Also cheap, so you won’t have to worry about the price.”
“I never worry about the price, darling,” John murmurs, but still loud enough for her to hear as she gets inside the vehicle. He swiftly walks to the driver’s seat and starts the car, glancing at his little bambi who’s observing the interior intensely. “You like it?”
“It’s so cool. I’ve never been in a car like this.”
“You’re going to have a lot of firsts when you’re with me.”
As John starts driving, the girl beside him babbles. Not that he minds, of course. He listens and nods, so obsessed with her voice that he could listen to it forever. It’s amazing how John could easily hide the fact that he was just stalking her from across her apartment the night before in the back of his mind, like it never even happened. It’s amazing how he could act like he wasn’t just thinking about kidnapping her and locking her away from the public forever.
But then again, everything about his little bambi would make anyone risk it all for her.  It’s not just John. Anyone would do the same if they were in his shoes.
“How was school?” John asks, averting his eyes from the road for a moment to look at her.
“Eh, it was alright. Classes always drain me, no wonder I’m so hungry now,” she answers politely. One of the few things John noticed about her. How she doesn’t run out of things to say, how she can get the conversation going. “How about you? You going to work after our lunch? You’re dressed up for it.”
“I took the day off today,” he replies vaguely.
“What? Why?”
“I have a date with you.”
She seems to be shocked by John’s choice of words, but she’s more concerned with the fact that John took the day off for her. “Y-yeah, but you didn’t have to do that. We could just go on a date next time.”
“The sooner, the better,” he explains, feeling another surge of something hot into his veins. She agreed that this is a date. Just how fucking gullible can she get? “Work is no problem for me. I want to get to know you more.”
“O-okay. I wanna get to know you more too.”
When John catches a glimpse of her bright smile beaming at him, his hands tighten around the wheel and he steps on the gas harder.
*
John doesn’t like how his mind isn’t making him remember about Helen.
He should be remembering her. He should feel some kind of guilt for being in a restaurant with another woman, but he doesn’t. Every single day since she died, his mind would always make him think about her. But now, it’s like John completely forgot about her existence at all.
The wedding ring on his finger is long gone. Ever since his unhealthy obsession began, he thought that wearing that while doing something so sinful felt so wrong. Helen shouldn’t have to witness all the things he had done in the name of a girl he had only met once that time.
The diner isn’t packed with people. The sizzling of the burgers grilling on the pan and the chatters seem to drown out eventually when his little bambi starts talking.
John gives her a small smile, barely there, just to show her that he’s listening, all his attention is on her.
“Time seems to pass by so fast, huh? I remember when I bumped into you the first time, I really thought I wouldn’t see you again,” she starts the conversation with a bang, but thankfully John’s prepared for this type of talk.
“So you really wanted to see me then?” he smirks slightly.
“Yeah! You’re really good looking and it’s not always I see a guy as handsome as you in my apartment complex and my school,” she says bluntly, though John could see the faint blush on her cheeks when she mentions the word ‘good looking.’ “So of course I had to take my chance when I met you again at that club! God, you were my knight in shining armor. I would’ve been crushed to death if it wasn’t for you.”
“That’s why you should always be careful on the road. You’re small, everyone could look past you if you weren’t careful enough.”
She pouts, placing her chin on her hand as she stares lovingly at John. “You’re exaggerating. I’m not small. You’re just saying that because you’re too big. And I’m always careful on the road – it was only that time that I lost balance and almost fell.”
“Then it better not happen again,” John says sharply, leaning back against the cushioned seat as he stares back at her challengingly. “But there’s no need to worry for the next time. I won’t let that happen again.”
“Next time?” she teases. “So you want to see me again next time, then?”
“Have I not made it clear with my actions and words?” John shoots back, raising another eyebrow. She likes it when he’s being stern like this. All authoritative. She might not know it yet, but her body language speaks for itself. “Do you want to see me again?”
The little bambi smiles brightly, and It hurts. It hurts John to see that smile because she’s just like the sun. But no matter how much she shines, John would do anything just to touch. Just to possess. Just to break.
“Of course! I wouldn’t have gotten your number if I didn’t, right?”
“Good.”
It’s not like she could do much anyways if she says no. Nothing will ever stop John from seeing her again, no matter how bad the procedure would be.
The food then arrives and is served on the table, and John thinks he has never felt anything like this before.
His hands have never felt this itchy before. That desperate, longing feeling to just possess the very thing that’s placed right in front of you. Everything about her is just so captivating, staring up at John like he’s the one who hung the moon, so full of adoration and hope.
Seems like John isn’t the only desperate one between the two of them. He could see it in her eyes. She’s practically begging him to take care of her.
And really, he can’t blame her.
An absent mother and an alcoholic father. No wonder she’s seeking attention from a man like John. A man old enough to be her father – if not older than her own father. John would be more than willing to fulfill the role her father failed to be when she was young. He’d do anything to protect her, morals be damned.
She looks too good to be true sitting right in front of him and he didn’t think watching someone devour a burger twice as big as her face would be so endearing. The way she licks her lips, the way her eyes sparkle every time John would pay attention to the little things she’d absentmindedly insert in her stories. No one must’ve given her this kind of attention before. No one but John.
“Oh, before I forget!” She places a hand on John’s arm that’s perched on the table. A mere innocent touch, yet he can’t help but feel a little giddy on the inside. “We’ve been talking for like, an hour now, and I still haven’t asked what your job is. I’ve been really curious ever since you told me you took a day off just for this. Are you like the boss or something?”
Ah. Of course.
A question like this is inevitable, thank god John came prepared. 
“No,” he simply says. “I’m a book binder. I collect and restore books as both a hobby and job.”
“Wow,” she nods her head, now interested as she leans forward and closer to him. She smells so sweet, John feels like he’s snorting sugar. “I didn’t think book binding could earn you so much money. Considering you’re dressed pretty… comfortably. And you have a nice car.”
“It pays enough,” John replies. Sooner or later she’d find out what he really does for a living, and no doubt she’d be scared. John already has a plan of action for when that would happen, but for now, he’ll try to keep it a secret as long as he can. “Pays enough to let me spoil you in the future. In fact, I think I might just start spoiling you now.”
“You say that to every woman you meet?” She quirks an eyebrow, teasing. 
“Just for you. You’re special.”
John sees the way she immediately turns shy and nervous from the statement. It must’ve felt overwhelming, having someone so much older and with more experience to hit on her like that. But John would say it brings a whole different feeling in him, like ego-lifting of some sort, knowing he just might be the only man that treated her right in her life.
Does killing one of her guy friends and storing him in his basement means treating her right? Does stalking her and watching her sleep from across the building is a way to treat her right? Different story to be told for another day.
“I believe you,” she says, smiling. 
Of course you do.
John diverts her attention from him. “You’re a veterinary student and also part time in a veterinary clinic. What made you want to pursue it?”
“Uh, let’s see. I don’t really have like, a very logical reason for it. I just really love animals and I want them to be part of my job as well,” she shrugs. “As for the part time thing, one of my older friends works there and got me in to gain some experience. I don’t really do much, I help with the paperworks and watch how they do stuff around there.”
I know.
“Your unconditional love for animals is logical enough.”
“I know right. Best job in the world, I might add. I get to pet all kinds of different animals everyday, and mind you I’m not even a real doctor yet,” she giggles, then tilts her head in curiosity. “Do you have a pet, John?”
“I do. I have a dog,” he answers, taking a sip of his own milkshake. It’s sweet, it’s something he’s not used to, but it reminds him of her. “Unfortunately, I haven’t named her yet.”
She frowns. “Why not?”
“I don’t know how to. I’m not good with names,” John shrugs. This conversation with her alone just might be the longest conversation he’s ever shared with someone ever since Helen died. And even with his late wife, he wasn’t as talkative as this. “Maybe you could name her. She’s a large pitbull but surprisingly very gentle for her size.”
“Oh my god, John, I have to meet her!” She beams. “Maybe on our next date, don’t you think? Let’s bring her with us to the park, have a little picnic there or something.”
Next date.
She wants to go on another date with him and she is making this a lot easier for John.
His lips stretch into a rare smile, fingers twitching subtly around the glass as he stares right into her eyes. There’s no hidden intention behind them, just pure adoration with a twinge of hope. Probably hopes that John wants the same thing as her, but he wouldn’t let her know that she is in for a lot more than she bargained for.
“I can’t wait for our next one.”
*
John could still remember the little things that made him feel human. 
Back in the Marines, when he first killed somebody, he felt a tremendous amount of guilt and self-hating that he couldn’t sleep for a week. He’d have nightmares of it; of holding his gun up to somebody’s head and blowing it up with just one single movement. The residue of the flesh splattered all over his face, some of them even went to his mouth. His hands shaked but he didn’t let his crew see it. In their eyes, that wasn’t the first time he had done it.
When he was recruited by Viggo and his little minions, the guilt of killing people was still there, but barely. He used to wish he didn’t feel any guilt or remorse at all every time he pulled a trigger, but looking back at it now, he wishes he could just take it all back. It was only guilt that he felt most of his life, but it made John human.
Now, he doesn’t feel very human as he stands in the middle of an abattoir holding a machete with pints of blood pooling at his shoes.
Back then, he used to kill. Point, shoot, leave. A very short routine he told himself to stick with unless he wanted to get in trouble. But now, he is not only just killing. John is fucking slaughtering people.
His eyes land on the dead body hanging from the meat hook. Naked, gutted alive just a few moments ago. His stomach is sliced open with his own intestines wrapped around his neck, and it fucking stinks.
The raw stench of human blood mixing with the already reeking smell of the slaughtered pigs hanging just besides the one John had slaughtered himself. 
Really, John should feel even just a little amount of remorse or disgust. His client didn’t particularly gave him a specific order on how to fucking kill the target, John did it himself. He didn’t know what the fuck was he thinking when he was doing the wet work, all he knows is that he’s getting worse each day that passes.
The killing part took some time considering the man certainly put up a fight. He was smuggling drugs inside the pigs he was slaughtering. It works on people too, though it’s too risky. Dying with balloons of cocaine up your throat or ass isn’t exactly the way you’d want to die, nor the kind of state you want your body to be in.
John really didn’t mean to go this far, but all the pent up anger and frustration led him to do something so ugly. He feels like a ticking bomb. Every second a little part of humanity just starts fading away, who knows what would happen if all of it were gone. 
This is his first kill since his date with his bambi. That was five days ago. John decided to take another job while he’s waiting for her next decision. He doesn’t want to look clingy and creepy by constantly texting her every chance he gets, so he lets her do it in her own phase. Though, waiting for her texts sure did take a lot of rampant rage on John’s side. Lots of broken furniture and a creepy amount of hours watching her sleep from across the building. 
Just because John is letting her do her own thing for the meantime, doesn’t mean he gets to take his eyes off of her. It’s for the best. 
Their last conversation was yesterday. It was a pretty long conversation, but not long enough for John’s satisfaction. She left it off by saying she’s going to be busy studying for her test and cleaning her apartment, which John didn’t have the time to check if she was telling the truth since he was busy himself.
John is dying to see her again but he knows he’s gonna have to wait it out in the Continental. Or maybe if he’s feeling a little bit insane, he’d ditch having to rest and spend his time sitting on a dusty chair in the same dusty room he’s been staying in for awhile; the building across from her apartment. But until then he’ll have to see where time will take him.
His phone ringing in his jacket is what snaps him from his thoughts. Bringing a bloodied hand to get it, he almost couldn’t press the screen by the slippery liquid covering his fingers. John presses the phone to his ear, waiting for the person to speak.
“Hey, boss. How’s Russia treating you so far? Hopefully not great ‘cause I’ve got some news that will cheer you up.” The deep voice of Alex echoes in the abattoir. It must’ve slipped John’s mind that he had sent Alex again to tail her again while he’s out overseas.
He furrows his brows, curious. “How is she?”
“Hm, let’s see here. Your little pet has been up and about all day with her little friends after they’ve finally noticed the disappearance of that little shit we took care of a while back – speaking of which, how is he by the way?”
“Rotting. Dissolving in my basement,” John replies, hands tightening around the handle of the machete. So this is what she’s been doing and the reason why she hasn’t messaged him all day. “I say the fucker got what he deserved. He’s a creep who preys on women to rape, I’m just thankful we got him out of the way before he got to her.”
“Yeah, well. She doesn’t know that and I doubt she’d even stop looking for her creepy friend unless they’ve found him. What do you want me to do?”
“Give it a day or two. Wait for me to get back and I’ll take it from there.”
“Anything else?” John hears loud chattering in the background, he furrows his brows.
“Yeah. Where are you right now?”
“Uhh, keeping her in my sight like you told me to?” Alex sounds particularly sassy. John doesn’t know if he should be pleased or not. “She’s at a restaurant. I think she’s having a meeting with her other friends or something – she looks upset.”
“Upset because of her missing friend, I assume.”
“Probably. Have you talked to her at all today, boss? Pretty sure I have not yet seen her pick up her phone all day.”
“No,” John simply says. “But she will. I’m sure of it.”
“I see you’ve finally gotten her dependent on you now.”
“Not enough, apparently, since she’s gone a full day without talking to me.”
“Well, you’re definitely getting there,” Alex says under his breath. “I’m going now, boss. They’re leaving to god knows where.”
John doesn’t say anything else, only ending the call and pocketing back his phone. He looks around the area, the coppery smell of blood is stronger than before. He is the reason why it stinks in here, the reason why there’s so much blood and brutality. The body that hangs right in front of him is lifelessly staring with dead, cold eyes. John resists the urge to shove a balloon of fucking cocaine into his stomach, the same thing he’s been doing with these pigs, brutalize him more if that’s even possible, but he knows it wouldn’t help his already worsening mentality.
The thought of someone seeing this body and thinking about how fucked up the person who did this doesn’t concern him as much as it should. 
Instead, John turns his heels and walks away from the scene. 
*
Unsurprisingly, getting her to depend on John isn’t the hardest task to do.
It just might be the easiest.
The moment John arrives at the Continental, he takes his time to message his bambi. It’s only reasonable, he wouldn’t come out as a clingy creep since it’s been a full day since his last message, he has every right to know what and how she’s doing despite already getting enough pictures and updates from Alex.
He asks her how she’s been, waits for approximately ten minutes before he finally gets a reply. In those ten minutes, John takes his time scrolling through the pictures Alex had sent him. Pictures of her bundled up in large, colorful sweaters and wearing a frown on her pretty face. She looks rough, but she makes looking rough look good.
Bambi : hi, john :(( sorry i didn’t text you all day. was busy with something 
John : That’s alright, I understand. I’m just glad you replied. Did something come up? Was it about school?
Bambi : kind of. my friend from school is missing and we don’t know where he is. we’re worried because he hasn’t answered any of our calls for a week and his apartment is practically empty.
Reading that almost makes him resist an urge to sickly smile to himself. His fingers hover the screen, careful of what his next words might be. 
John : I’m sorry to hear that. Have you gotten any updates from the police? What did they say?
Bambi : nothing yet unfortunately. no one saw him the night he went missing :( 
John : I’m sure you’ll find him soon enough. I hope nothing extremely bad happened to your friend.
He sounds… manipulating. There aren’t any more words that could describe what John is doing to her. He doesn’t even know if he can still make up excuses to tell himself that everything is completely fine and normal.
The girl that he likes is currently sharing about the horrifying tragedy her ‘friend’ is facing, the horrifying tragedy being John’s fault, and he’s fucking lying about it. And what truly terrifies him the most is not about the fact that he’s manipulating her, he’s terrified because it feels normal and just… fine.
Normal, normal, normal–
Can John really win her over by going this path? If not, would it really matter?
He will still have the upper hand if this doesn’t end well. But then again, there’s a very small chance that it wouldn’t – if not none at all. John just needs to play his cards well and there wouldn’t be a problem. 
Bambi : thank you john. really hope that too. it doesn’t feel the same without him
John’s jaw ticks.
What do you mean it doesn’t feel the same without that fucker? I killed him for you! He was a creep who only wanted to fuck you and take you away from me and–
A dangerous feeling suddenly surge into his veins that he wants to put back together all the pieces of that fucker just to destroy it in his hands once again.
Maybe mutilating him and dissolving him in pure acid just isn’t enough. Maybe he deserved more. Maybe John should’ve took his fucking time torturing that little shit instead of killing him instantly.
John : And how are you? I hope you’re not too worried about this matter that you start to forget about taking care of yourself.
Bambi : i’m doing fine, but a bit sad bc of it. i also miss you and i wish u’re here so i wouldn’t be too sad
And just like that, it’s like all his resentment and rage just one minute prior vanished in a snap of a finger. A small smile makes its way to his face and a surge of ego soars into his chest. She has no idea she’s got a dangerous assassin wrapped around her finger and the consequences it’d bring her.
Bambi : are u still overseas? when will you be back?
John : Tomorrow, hopefully.
John : And I miss you too, sweetheart. I promise I’ll be back as soon as I finish work.
Bambi : can’t wait to see you. do u want me to pick u up at the airport? :D
John : Thank you, baby, but that won’t be necessary. I don’t want to keep you busy when you already have too much in your hands.
Bambi : mkay. but call me or text me when u arrive, ok?
John : Of course.
*
John is not stupid.
If he ever noticed a man following his every step, he didn’t once care or say a word.
It’s one of Winston’s men, obviously, following him around throughout his business in Russia up to boarding the same plane as him back to New York. Considering John had managed to catch on pretty quickly at the fact that Winston sent someone to trail him, this poor guy is not doing a particularly good job.
At first, John thought about taking care of the guy himself and bringing Winston a souvenir of his dog’s fingers or even one of his eyeballs, but decided that he is not that cruel.
He could be, but knowing he holds all the power over several people under The Table makes John wants to play the game a little longer and just fucking shiver in excitement.
Obviously Winston had noticed that John is up to no good. Not that it’s any of his business, he’s more likely just scared for his own life. He’s probably thinking it was a bad idea to bring John back into the game now that he’s living up to the horrors of his reputation and giving people exactly what they wanted.
When John first returned to the field, it was only to avenge his late wife and nothing more. But now that a bigger monster has grown within him over the course of his stay, he’s now also looking for the fuel to his fire.
And boy did he find it.
The fuel being in the form of a young woman who’s unaware of how much power she has over John. It’s only a matter of time before all hell breaks loose. 
*
10:56 PM.
“Hello.”
“Hello? John?”
“It’s me, darling. How are you?”
“Doing fine. Studying for my exam and all. Why are you calling at this hour, though?”
“Just wanted to let you know that I just arrived back in New York and see how you’re doing.”
“Oh, John, it’s so late. I was thinking earlier that you would arrive tomorrow morning or afternoon, you didn’t tell me you boarded a flight.”
“I wanted to be back as soon as possible and wanted to surprise you, but my flight got delayed so I only just arrived now.”
A soft laugh rings in his ear.
“You’re so cheeky. We can just meet up tomorrow if you’d like, go on a picnic at a park or something. I really, really wanna meet your dog.”
John hears a sigh, then the sound of paper rustling in the background. He counts – one, two, three – here it comes.
“I miss you, John.”
He pushes the curtain aside with two fingers, peering his eyes in the small opening as he watches the figure at the other side of the building. She’s sitting on her study desk in front of a laptop, freshly showered and wearing specs that John can’t help his heart to ache.
It’s been so long.
“I miss you too, sweetheart. Couldn’t stop thinking about you when I was away.”
“That’s very sweet. I hope you brought souvenirs for me, though, or otherwise I will be very sad.”
“How can I forget? I bought everything that reminded me of you when I was there.”
“Now you’re just spoiling me.” Another laugh, then John sees her getting up from the chair and laying on the bed. “I’m happy that I’d get to see you again tomorrow, John. Everything that’s been happening is just so… I don’t know. Stressful, I guess. From my friend missing and school work, I don’t even know where to start. I just wanna be with you again.”
The mention of her friend Jay ticks him the wrong way, but he can’t also help but notice the longing and desperation laced in her voice as she said the last part. John knows it wouldn’t be too hard for her to be dependent on him, he just didn’t expect it to be this easy. They’ve only met once in real life, but their constant texting and calling through the phone makes it up for it. 
“Don’t let yourself worry too much on matters that don’t concern you.”
Silence, then John watches her bite her nail anxiously. “What do you mean by that, John?”
He doesn’t particularly like the way his name just rolls off her tongue like that – like she’s his age, the same way Helen used to call him. He doesn’t want to be reminded of Helen when he’s with his little bambi, it just makes him feel even shittier with the situation. It sorta reminds John how much he truly changed when he lost Helen.
“Don’t worry about your friend too much. I know it’s hard that he’s missing, but don’t put him first before your own well being,” John advises, manipulation just dripping off his tongue like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He doubts she would notice, though. “I’m sure the police got it covered by now. I’m more worried about you.”
John could still see her expression through the window despite being far away. She’s thinking about it, letting herself get swayed by his lies and persuasion. She’s too easy, she just doesn’t know it herself, but John does. And he’s going to take advantage of it as much as he can. 
He counts again – one, two, three – and she’s dropping her hand to the bed and sighing softly. There she is.
“Okay. You’re probably right, I worry too much.”
John doesn’t reply but gives a silent hum that indicates he’s agreeing. He sees her taking off her glasses and putting it on the bedside table, suddenly the itch in his hands is back.
There’s a voice nagging at the back of his head and asking him just what the fuck is he doing, that he should stop this madness before it gets out of hand, but would that really make a difference? Even if John did stop, he’d still continue to live with the fact that he was a monster who stalked a young woman out of sheer obsession. He’d already got her dependent on him, he’d already laid out the plan on how this would turn out, why is he suddenly questioning now?
He had done stuff that was worse than manipulating. He didn’t feel a single drop of empathy when he was slaughtering people and shooting them in the head, but why does he feel guilty manipulating her?
“John? Did you already fall asleep on me?”
Soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts, then it’s followed by a soft giggle. John feels butterflies exploding in his stomach. 
“Sorry. I was just–”
“It’s okay, John, you can sleep. You’ve probably had a long day since you’ve been on a flight and everything. I’m going to sleep now too, we have a date tomorrow, remember? Don’t forget.” The faux strictness in her voice makes him smile, then he sees her smiling just as big through the window; giddy and excited. “Goodnight, John. It’s really nice talking to you again. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She hangs up first, smiling to herself before putting the phone back to her nightstand. She settles on the bed comfortably, tucking herself into her blanket, unaware of the fact that there’s a monster lurking on the other building, watching her every move like a hawk.
He catches a glimpse of himself in the old mirror on the dusty wall, dressed in black and predatory, reminiscent of the devil himself. 
Might as well live up to the name.
*
John is aware of how dead he looks in people’s eyes. He barely smiles, he’s always dressed in black, and he always has trouble showing emotions through his face. He makes sure that he gives off that aura that shows how much he dislikes everyone in the fucking room. How much he just wants to pull out his gun and shoot every single one of them in the head.
John despises the way they look at him. Like they pity him for losing his wife, for getting dragged back to the life he had already left. Though, he can’t really blame them, really. He used to pity himself too, even now for letting himself get even worse, but he wouldn’t really call it pity. He doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not pity.
The next day is interesting, to say the least.
He couldn’t get a minute of sleep the night before, the image of her sleeping so peacefully without a worry in the world bored into his mind. It’s extremely fascinating to him just how careless and… dumb she is. Dumb in a way that it’s benifiting John – the both of them, actually – and not in an offensive kind of way.
It was around two in the morning when he returned back to the hotel, managed to sleep for an hour or two before ripping off the blankets and had a drink the first thing in the morning. John didn’t bother taking a nap after that, just walking around the room making sure all is well and everything will be according to plan.
At 8 AM, she texted John a good morning and said it would be better for their date to be at 4 PM. John then replied that it was perfect, though he doubts he can wait that long.
12 PM, for a man as calm and collected as John, he sure as hell can’t fucking sit still in one place.
He’s paranoid. No amount of texts from his bambi is enough to keep him calm. The time is ticking too slowly for his liking and he has no other things to do in his free time. Except be paranoid.
John grabs his coat, kisses his dog goodbye and decides to stop by a grocery store to prepare for their date. He should at least make them both a sandwich and buy drinks, knowing that the little gesture would be enough to put a smile on her face.
1 PM, John comes back with shit ton of paper bags in his arms. He’s doing too much, he knows it, but too much is still better than not enough.
John goes to the kitchen to prepare. The orphanage taught him how to cook – well, not really. John taught himself how to cook, because if he’s not going to cook for himself and half of the kids back in Ruska, they’d all be dead with no survival instincts to save them from starvation. Being an assassin who could withstand any form of torture all while not knowing how to cook would be the greatest joke of the century. John’s not the one to be laughed out.
2 PM, everything is settled and in place, his little bambi texts him to let him know that she’s getting ready and cannot wait for their date. John then takes his time to get ready too.
3 PM, John is dressed in a nice white t-shirt with a brown leather jacket on top. He looks civilised, no one would know a damn thing that he’s one of the most feared men in the underworld who slaughters people for a living.
His dog is quiet in the corner, chewing on her bone toy until John puts a collar and leash around her neck. Her eyes perks up in excitement, already knowing they would go outside to play. John always takes his time making sure she gets to socialize with other dogs, whether it’s in a park or just down the street.
“You’re excited, baby?” John murmurs, petting her ears softly as he kneels down to her position. “You’re gonna meet someone special. Want you to be nice to her, alright? She’s gonna be your mom.”
John hauls everything into his car in a matter of minutes. The picnic basket, the blanket, his gifts for his little one that he got from Russia, also including his dog. She’s behaved yet excited as she peeks in the mirror watching her owner work.
He slides into the driver’s seat and locks his seatbelt, starting up the car and driving away from the hotel. Earlier, John had seen a couple of his co-workers loading up his trunk dressed like he’s going on a date – because he is – no doubt they’re snitching and would tell Winston. He couldn’t care less.
He arrives outside her apartment after thirty minutes, parking his car right by the entrance. He can’t help but grimace as he looks around the place. He remembers meeting her here, the day after he killed that good-for-nothing junkie. He wonders if she ever got the news, how she reacted when someone got killed the same day John was visiting her area.
It won’t be long before she wouldn’t be living in this area no more. It’s too dangerous, filled with a bunch of goons who get themselves tangled up in petty gang wars. John knows a gangster when he sees one, and it looks like every single man who lives in these crowded apartments are either pushers or gangsters with no sense of direction in life.
She doesn’t belong here. She should be in John’s house, locked up and isolated where she’s safe under his supervision. He would treat her like a princess, give her the things she deserve.
John gets out of the car, pulls out his phone and sends her a message to let her know he’s outside her building. He leans against the car as he waits.
A minute passes and a very happy bambi appears in the elevator, dressed in a pretty sundress and a white tote bag with a text John can’t see. She’s beaming up at him as she exits the building, and John hasn’t got the time to react before she’s lunging herself forward and going on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck.
“Whoa easy,” John murmurs, immediately wrapping his arms around her waist for support, placing his face in the crook of her neck and inhaling her scent; it’s sweet, not a surprise. “You miss me that much?”
“So much, you don’t even wanna know,” she murmurs in his chest, not quite reaching his neck despite being on her tiptoes. “I hope you miss me just as much.”
John pulls away, gives her a look as he places her large hands on her hips. “I might’ve missed you more than you missed me.”
She giggles, John could see her eyes through the heart-shaped sunglasses she’s wearing. It’s cute. “That’s not possible, I will fight you for it.”
“Hm,” John hums, eyes wandering down her lips to her dress. It stops just above her knees, John has to mentally prepare himself for the worst. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she says sheepishly. “You like it? I think it’s the perfect picnic outfit.”
“I love it,” John clarifies. “Looks perfect on you.”
“You look gorgeous yourself,” she giggles, eyeing John up and down teasingly, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. He isn’t so sure how to react to that, hopefully his dick wouldn’t take the liberty to rise from the dead at this moment. “This is the first time I’ve seen you not wearing any suits. Domestic looks good on you.”
“What can I say, I’m a changed man.” John means both good and bad. “And before we go, I want to introduce you to someone.”
Before she gets a chance to ask, John slides out of the way from his position of covering the car window and reveals a very happy pitbull waiting to be introduced to her mother.
Her smile is wide when she spots John’s pet excitedly wagging her tail inside the car. “Oh my god, she is beautiful! John, open the door, hurry, hurry, hurry–”
“Okay, okay–”
The moment John pulls the door open, the dog comes rushing out to jump and starts licking her face.
“Oh, lookie here, baby! You’re such a cutie! What’s your name, hm? Don’t got a name yet? Your dad can’t think of a name to give ya’?” 
Her giggles are like music to his ears.
The sound of paws pattering on the concrete and her high pitched voice talking to the dog fills the empty street in a matter of seconds. When she isn’t looking, John begins looking around the area, his eyes landing on the apartment building where he preys at some nights. 
There’s a person at the front desk, staring at him like he knows something, and like a switch that goes off in his brain, John recognizes this man as the same one who bumped into him a few nights ago in the hallway in front of the abandoned room where he’s staying.
They meet eyes, John flashes him a knowing look, then the man immediately looks away.
John’s jaw ticks. He’s gonna have to deal with that later.
He turns his attention back to where it’s most needed. She’s still playing with the dog, crouching beside the car while the puppy just drowns in her affection. John really hates to break the moment.
“Shall we get going?” He interjects, voice deeper than usual, still feeling a little on the edge from that man by the front desk earlier.
“Sure. She gonna be in the backseat?”
“You bet.”
John opens the door for the both of them and lets her help the puppy get inside. Before he slams the door close, he makes sure to take another look at the apartment, seeing the man already staring back at him.
Yeah. He’s really gonna have to deal with that later.
*
They arrive at the park around 4:25 and John is the one to set up their spot while she and the puppy play in the empty field. It’s empty, totally empty, and John couldn’t be more thankful than that since he really doesn’t want to be around other people besides her. She’s the only one that matters.
John notices that she brought her own dog toys, probably the ones she keeps to herself since she does work in a vet clinic after all. The sight of her happily running around the grass with his dog is enough to bring him to his knees, he is only but a man.
John calls her to eat and the two of them come running towards him and plops down on the soft blanket next to the basket full of fruits.
“Had fun?” John speaks, sitting beside her on the ground as he watches her get a plate of pasta for the two of them. She insists she gets to plate their food, John lets her.
“Very. Didn’t know she’s quite energetic, luckily for her I can match her energy extremely well.”
“It comes with being young, I guess. Can’t really relate,” he jokes, receiving the plate full of pasta she gives him while she snickers at the statement.
“Come on, John. You’re still fit despite being old.” John watches her take a bite of the food. He’s not subtle, he’s straight up staring at her lips as she wraps her mouth around the fork, savoring the flavor with closed eyes. “Hm, this is delicious. Where did you learn to cook like this?”
“By myself,” he shrugs, taking a bite of his food to keep him from taking a bite of her instead. “I’m surprised you aren’t creeped out.”
“With what?”
“With my age,” John makes it clear. “You’re young with a bright future ahead of you–”
“Yet here I am having a date with an old man?” she interjects, wiggles her eyebrows, teasing clearly with the way she emphasizes the last part. “I can’t believe you thought I’m gonna get creeped out. You’re a grown man with a stable job and not to mention very hot, I find that very sexy.”
“You think I’m sexy?” he raises a brow.
“Yes, I think you’re very sexy. I haven’t once encountered a guy my age who has the same status as you,” she sets down the plate on her lap for a moment. “You know, experienced and mature.”
“I see,” John nods. It’s very clear that she’s always found the people who contrast her so well attractive. She wants a savior that would save her from everything, luckily John fits in the description quite too well. 
They delve in a normal conversation after that. John makes sure to steer away all questions regarding him and his life, a way to learn more about her other than the pictures and videos and information he’d been sent by Alex.
John already knows a lot about her, it wouldn’t hurt to learn a little more.
Ten minutes go by, a bottle of wine has been pulled out of the basket and she’s spilling her whole life to John in a matter of moments. From lttle memories from childhood to how she moved from her hometown to New York to get away from her father. How when she was younger, she begged her toys to talk to her and she wouldn’t tell anyone. How their family pet back in the days impacted the choices she made to choose her career path – to become a veterinarian.
John listens. He’s always been good at listening instead of talking, so he listens. 
5 PM, the two of them play with the dog and she decides to name her “Blue.”
“Is it because she has blue eyes?” John asks.
“Yeah. Not really original, I know, but it fits her.”
“Blue is perfect.”
It’s already 6 PM when they decide to head home. She’s still talking the moment they’re in the car and John is still listening. There’s something about her voice that just… pulls him in. It’s so sweet and soft.
When they arrive outside her apartment complex, it’s dead silent. 
“I really enjoyed our date today, John,” she smiles when he opens the door for her, now standing in front of him and looking up to meet his eyes. “The pasta was delicious. I hope I get to eat more of them in the future – and oh, I really, really enjoyed playing with Blue! I’m so thankful that you let me name her even though it wasn’t really special–”
“Hush,” John jokingly interrupts. “The night might be over, but I can assure you that I will see you soon again.”
“How soon would that be again?”
“Eager to see me already?”
“Maybe.”
“You know I always make time for you, sweetheart,” John croons, placing a large hand on her chin and staring deeply into her eyes. “Is it too early for me to kiss you?”
She laughs, then wraps her arms around his waist to pull him in closer. John looks at her and falls in love for what to be a millionth time today. She never fails to take his breath away. “Not too early, I promise you. You should’ve done that sooner.”
“Well, I’m gonna do it now.”
Before she can add another word, John leans down to smash his lips against hers, his large hand finding its way on the small of her back to deepen the kiss that she can’t help but whimper into his mouth.
Fuck.
Her lips are so, so soft. John can still taste the lingering sweetness of the wine from earlier and being so close to her that her scent is shutting off his entire brain. If he won’t stop, he might just end up fucking her on the hood of his car until she can’t walk straight.
Their lips move in tandem and she’s following his head like she always does. Her small hands are gripping his leather jacket for support, so pliant and vulnerable, already trusting him enough to kiss him on their second date. 
This is a sudden shift in his universe, John knows he’s already won.
He’s the first to pull away and their lips are wet and connected with saliva. She’s flushed and out of breath like expected, John wants nothing more but to break her and make her his.
Oh wait, she already is.
“How was that?” John asks, voice deep.
“I wanna do it again.”
He chuckles, rubbing his thumb on her cheeks while she’s busy avoiding his eyes. “Let’s save it for next time.”
He’s gonna control himself.
“That next time better come by fast,” she threatens jokingly. “I’m gonna miss you.”
“Don’t talk like you’re not gonna see me for days, baby,” John whispers. “You know I won’t let you go that easily. You’re mine now.”
He doesn’t miss the way her pupils dilated and the way the clutch she has on his leather jackets becomes tighter. She’s already fallen deep into his trap, John wants to push his claws in even deeper.
“Say it again,” she mutters, leaning in against his warm large hand as she closes her eyes. “Say it again. Please.”
John smiles when she isn’t looking. He really won.
“You’re mine.”
*
That same night, 4 AM, John is back in his work clothes and arranging something in a dark room.
The stench of metallic blood hitting his nose, and he stands in the middle of the room to inhale that scent – god, does he truly miss it.
The sight of a man in front of him wakes something dangerous within John’s veins. Hands tied up behind the chair, head dropped forward, lifeless and cold. His lower stomach is open, guts hanging off the floor as the other half is used to gag him in the mouth. His eyes are missing, John took the liberty to take them out for staring at him too much, and he couldn’t be any more relieved when he did.
“What do you know?” John had asked as soon as the man woke up from his head concussion.
“Y-You!” The man had yelled, John didn’t bother finding out his name. “You fucking creep –”
John’s hands twitched beside him. He remained silent.
The man went on a rant about how he’d seen John around lurking outside the apartment complex and using the abandoned room on the fifth floor and that’s all John needed to know.
He didn’t need another pair of eyes to tell him what’s right and wrong. Winston is already enough.
The next morning, John receives a text from none other than his bambi. A picture of numerous police cars outside her apartment and an ambulance, and another picture of a dead body covered in white blanket getting pulled out of the building.
Bambi : there was an accident that happened near me, john :(( 
Bambi : the police said somebody was killed and i’m scared
Bambi : they said he was gutted alive 
John is smiling to himself when he types his response.
John : What kind of a sick person would do something like that?
He is not a sick person. He’s just in love.
Taglist: aerangi starrgir1 heluvsvalefr danika1994 fraisejoon doggodorime ohmytate
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theweirdwideweb · 18 days
Note
we want the work blowout deets
I'll give you the tea but it will be lengthy and I'm going to cry.
Thank you for asking anon. To be honest with you I've been crying in bed about it for the past couple hours. I stood up just now and went to the bathroom and saw two big wet patches on my smiley face tshirt and it sucks so much. I'm so sad.
I could really use some feedback on this situation to be honest. OK. So the long story short is that I got a new supervisor a year ago and my work life has been hell ever since. First off, she doesn't understand what I do. She's never done my job. And she is THE micromanager from hell. For the first 7 months of the year she had me turning in a time card every week showing everything I did down to 5 minute increments. I turn the spreadsheet in on Friday, then every Monday we'd have a meeting where she'd tell me she just doesn't understand how I use my time. Why did it take so long to do X amount of invoices? She estimates it should take 2 minutes per invoice, but it took me 4 minutes per invoice. Like I said she knows nothing about my job and as many times as I've explained it she still "doesn't get it." It was demoralizing, nerve wracking, and frankly so insulting to my competence that I went to her boss (my old supervisor who I love). When she did nothing I went to HR with serious concerns about discrimination----it's no coincidence that I was granted some medical leave at the beginning of the year to address mental health concerns.
Yada yada yada, we made some changes and I don't have to turn in the spreadsheet anymore, but she is still making me email her every week with a list of tasks I didn't complete from the week before. It's still insulting but at least she agreed I'd only have to do it for another 3 months. Actually she said 1 month, but she's such a bitch that by the next HR meeting she claimed she never said 1 month and switched it to 3 months. She's a fucking moron, reader. She's dead fucking stupid. I really can't stress that enough. Dumb. It took her 15 years to get the position I got within 3 years of starting. The only reason she's where she is is seniority, personal relationships with management, and being a fucking bully. A dumb bully! Telling you how to prioritize your work! She's accused me recently of being unprepared for a meeting---a meeting that I hosted, provided all the material for, wrote all the notes on, fleshing out a new process she told me to start implementing but had zero idea how. She just tosses ideas at me and I'm left to figure out any kind of practical way to do it because---AGAIN---she doesn't know how to do my job. There've been other things too. She's a sneak humiliator. She's a button pusher. She's a moron. A big fat ugly moron who looks like Roz from Monster's Inc.
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So on Thursday at 4:30pm, end of the day, suddenly a meeting with HR and this cunt appears on my calendar for 10am Friday (yesterday). I'm like---well here we go. She's either going to fire me or put me on a formal PIP. I'll be honest with you, I'd already decided to quit but I was holding out for my bonus in December. I entered the meeting feeling tranquil. I thought, "Do it. Pull the trigger. I'm ready for the end. Just fire me. Let me go. Release me."
But when the meeting starts it's just a touch base with our HR rep to see how everything is going. Are YOU fucking KIDDING me. Anyone would have thought the same thing I did. Of all the things my supervisor sucks dicks at, communication is the worst of all. She can't even spell. She can't string a sentence together. I mean it's shocking she writes at like a 6th grade level. I've seen emails she sent that are so garbled they are literally incomprehensible.
So I'm PISSED. I express how nerve-wracking the previous evening and all morning had been. We're off to a great start. She lets me know she's going to try to end the email process early. OK good. She tells me she's concerned because I haven't been providing personal feedback to her when prompted. Easy enough to explain: I hate your fucking guts, I'm trying to be a grey rock until I can quit. But I can't say that so I'm just like Alright.
Now here comes the bullshit! 1) She now wants me to ask permission in advance to work on weekends. I'm so overworked and stressed out I work like every weekend and now she wants me to ask her permission for the privilege of working on my day off. Guess who's never working a weekend for this company again. 2) The emails that just contain a list of tasks, right? Was 1 month, now 3 months, etc. She also changed the rules so that I have to provide a count of all the claims I processed across multiple platforms. And well---she just doesn't understand how I processed X number of claims and it took this long. In fact, she said, she counts 8 hours reported on my timecard she can't account for last week.
I lost it. I was openly hostile and belligerent. Fuck this fucking bitch. I cannot work for this vile idiot anymore. I actually used my IRL voice to poke holes in what she was saying and pointing out how fucking stupid it all is. Then she comes at me for not respecting her authority. As a reminder, just minutes before she'd complained about me having no feedback for her.
I left the meeting by refusing offers for additional time with the HR rep. I was in no place. I barely worked the rest of the day I was so upset and I didn't send my email, didn't complete my tasks, and didn't ask her permission to finish it up on the weekend (lol). I don't have another job lined up but this is the last time she's going to question whether I'm just straight up lying on my timecard or some kind of moron. That's it. This is her 100th strike for me.
Now here's why I'm so conflicted. 1) My previous supervisor (now my boss's boss) is going on a leave of absence like THIS WEEK for about a month and a half to treat her cancer. I care about her very much. I don't want to stress her out at the last second like this. 2) My bitch boss is also having a sudden serious health problem requiring her to be at the hospital multiple times a week. 3) On top of that, this stupid fucking cow has to take over my boss's boss's work while she's out for cancer. 4) They are absolutely fucked without me. For me to leave right now is a disaster. Add to that---the one person I manage and have a 100% rock solid relationship straight up told me that she's going to quit at some point and that if I quit she's walking out right behind me. She said this to me unprompted and I discouraged her from quitting. 5) I have a heart. The boss and the boss's boss are both having life problems that are more important than work. I think it's immoral to leave them in the lurch right now. They have serious health problems. As much as I hate my boss, at one point we were friends. My heart is breaking.
So I'm crying in bed. I can't live this way anymore. Toxic work stress has taken over my life. I get so miserable, but then some days it's just a job. It's a job I know how to do. I've been here 6 years. The health insurance is spectacular. I've got nothing lined up. I have adequate savings to get through a couple months of unemployment, but it's no guarantee I'll find a position that suits me in that timeframe. I have all these personal relationships at work (a mistake I will not repeat). I've let this job become part of my identity. I'm getting older. I'm 37 and I'm tired and I'm crazy and I just want peace. This position is fully remote---what if the next guy makes me work in person? My whole life will change. I just want this job to work like it has been for the 5 years before she took over. I'm so sad. I've felt this way so many times.
I want to quit first thing Monday. But I want to offer them the option of staying on until good boss gets back from cancer leave, so long as I don't have to work with illiterate cunt boss any more than is absolutely critical in the meantime. What do you think guys? My heart is breaking.
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pepsiluvr0209 · 8 months
Text
White Ferrari (Final)
buckle in guys
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WARNINGS: Angst, mentions of death and just overall sadness
Matt Sturniolo x Reader
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧.˚ₓ
"I let you out, at Central."
It had been one day.
One day of Matt never leaving your side. He practically had to be dragged out of your room for tests and to rest, since the lack of sleep the boy was getting was detrimental for his healing.
"Baby you need to eat." You look at Matt who stared back at you, sadness engulfing his eyes. He had been by your hospital bed for the past couple hours and you started to get concerned.
"I don't want to." He mumbled, tiredly grabbing your tubed hand and playing with your fingers. "I just want to be with you."
"Can you eat here?" Matt just shrugged. Just then you started coughing erratically and Matt jumped up, cradling you gently so you could stabilise yourself. After your breathing evened out, he reluctantly let go and instantly latches himself back onto your hand. This happens about once every 10 minutes and Matt feels his heart break with every episode.
"See this is what we can't do." You sternly say turning to look at him in the eyes. "I want you to take care of yourself."
Matt fiercely shakes his head and you can feel his larger hands start to tremor in yours. "I don't need to take care of myself." He says quietly looking down. "Because when we get out of here, I-I'll have you." He says with confidence.
You've experienced a couple heartbreaks in your time but nothing could compare to the pain you felt in that very moment.
"Matt-" You start.
"No. I don't want to hear it."
If you look close enough you can glistening streams flowing from his ocean eyes down his pale cheeks. You reach out to run your fingers over his stubble which was poking out since he hasn't had the opportunity to shave in a while. Matt's hand still interlaced with yours, he watches you as your intertwined hands caress over his face. You watch back staring at him with a bittersweet smile.
"I love you."
"I love you more." And he reached over to plant a gentle kiss on your lips.
Now, you weren't stupid. As soon as you regained consciousness the Doctor's gave it to you straight, and of course you were destroyed to find out that there was nothing they could do.
But what upset you the most was Matt.
We had everything planned out and it's all going to shit, because I can't physically be there with him. Create more memories with him. We're never going to go on 2am drives together again, never going to play fucking Mariokart with him again, and do stupid little things like shared face-masks, long hugs and deep talks, movie marathons and cooking monstrosities in the kitchen.
But he will do it with someone else.
He can marry another girl, and have kids, live right by Nick and Chris and go to Central with her.
While I'll watch and always know that it could've been me.
Maybe in another life.
The Doctor's told me it was a guy driving a white Ferrari. Had too much to drink and paid the consequences for it. They're burying him the day before my funeral.
It's such a weird thought. My funeral's in a couple days. Would I have scarring from all these wires? Would I be wearing my hospital gown? Who would show up?
Would Matt be there?
Would it be sad? Fuck, would they serve food after?
A guy came in for my will the other day and I told him all of my stuff me and Matt basically shared so he can decide what to do with everything. Obviously I gave my parents and Matt's brothers a respectful amount, but honestly I could care less, my stuff isn't as important compared to him.
"What are you thinking about sweetheart?" Matt gently moved my stray hairs from my forehead to the side.
"Nothing." I smile. He smiles back, and I can tell he knows I'm lying but he is perfectly fine living right now, without knowing.
I inhale sharply. "Matt?" He hums in response, sensing my hesitation. "How fast are you gonna move on?"
"I don't want to talk about that y/n." He says sternly.
"Why?" I retaliate, my brows furrowing. When he doesn't answer I huff and say quietly. "I've got just over 24 hours left Matt. I-It hurts to cough and sometimes I throw up blood-"
"No, no, no, no." He says loudly. "You're gonna make it baby. T-The Doctor's, they don't know jackshit okay. I-I- You can do this, I kno-"
"Matt... it's okay."
"No, its not." He sobs. "How could you leave me. It's not fair." He cries into my bed. "It's not fair, it's not fair. It should've been me."
"Shh, no it shouldn't have."
Matt hiccups. "Y-Y-es."
You feel hopeless, all you can do is stroke his hair and reassure him that it's going to be okay, when you both know damn well your not telling the truth.
Once Matt had calmed down, he rested his head on your bed, right next to your bandaged shins. Both of you were holding hands, his thumb stroking yours. You both were just staring at each other, no words to convey the amount of love both of you were pouring out of your tired eyes.
Suddenly Matt quietly speaks up, drifting his eyes from yours and onto the crisp white bedsheets. "I don't think I'll ever be able to move on from you." He mumbles. "I-I just... You were with me through everything. I can't comprehend how you're not going to be here one day, a-and it scares me that when you are gone-" He tremors again and you just hold his hand tighter. "That I won't know what the point of everything is without you. You're my everything a-and you're just gonna leave me." He starts crying. "I don't want you to leave."
"I don't want to leave either Matt. I don't- I don't want to die." You cry with him. Everything hitting you all at once.
Eventually you both fell asleep and when you woke up medics were by your side. You glance at Matt's sleeping figure then around to look at everyone. "It hurts."
A nurse crouches down to face you. "We're going to give you painkillers, so when you pass it doesn't hurt as much."
You nod, and you can feel tears falling down your face. "Okay." This was real. It was happening. "H-How long do I have left... To live?"
The nurse looks at you sympathetically. "Judging by your vitals we estimate a couple hours." She reaches out and caresses your hair. "It'll just be like falling asleep. In the meantime we'll all leave and I'm going to unhook you to some of these machines, so you can at least be more comfortable."
You can only nod. Your whole body is flooded with pain and you realise that this is it.
You're going to die.
You can feel Matt stirring, just as the nurse unhooks you off the last machine, and everyone leaves.
"W-what's going on?" All of a sudden he's alert and checking his surroundings.
All you can do is softly smile at him and try your best not to burst into tears.
"Matt." You manage out. "It's happening."
Matt swore his whole world fell out of place. You continued. "They um- They gave me pain medication so I won't feel it and the-the nurse said it's like falling asleep."
"How long?" Matt felt like he didn't even recognise his own voice.
"A couple hours."
Matt gulped, but it felt like he swallowed a rock. "So what are you going to do?"
"Lie with me... please?"
Matt didn't even feel the rough scratch of your sheets or heard the creak of the bed. Facing you he said, "I can't even process this."
"So don't."
He just nodded and went down under the covers further. "Can I please hold you?... Just one last time."
It took everything in you not to start sobbing right there. "Yes Matt. You can."
So he gently took your body and moved it towards him, cradling you into him and holding you like if he lets go you would leave. Because you just might.
He was gonna miss you.
God, he was gonna miss you so much.
After an hour you spoke up.
"What were we going to do if we got to Central."
Matt looked down at you and smiled. "Well, last time I went I saw the prettiest bookstore ever and I instantly thought of you, so I figured that would've been our first stop. And of course, knowing you that would eat up a couple hours."
You laughed a bit, which made tears form in Matt's eyes. He's never going to hear that again.
"And then what?"
Matt sniffed. "And then I made a dinner reservation."
Your eyes gently shut and your heart rate slowed.
"Best carbonara in town. So naturally I had to take you there. Uh- It was an outside booking, and already a nice day, so I thought you would've loved it."
"Mhm, keep going." Snuggling into his warm chest, trying to ignore the pain shooting through you at a rapid pace.
"And then there was this park." He said softly. "Big open area, moonlit pond... fairy lights."
You smiled into his chest, the pain becoming numb as you felt it slowly encase you. "That sounds beautiful."
"It is, you would've loved it. They have little paths where you can walk around." You felt your pulse slowly fade. "And when we would get to a spot, I would hold you and tell you that I love you. And that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. That your all that matters to me. I would list every little thing I love about you. Your hair, your eyes, your joy and how much you make my life better. You know why sweetheart? Because I love you. I love you so much okay? So whenever you feel like you have to let go, just know that I love you and that I will always love you, forever and ever and ever......"
"Y/n?"
"Sweetheart, are you awake?"
"Y/n? Oh my god, no, please."
"Y/n please wake up. Please."
"No, not yet."
"Not yet."
"Don't leave me."
"I love you."
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧.˚ₓ
Rain was pouring down heavily, as Matt got out of the car, double checking to see if he missed anything.
Matt felt heavy as he stepped along the gravel path, trudging towards the place where he spent most of his time.
He gently sat down next to you, ignoring the uncomfortable wet soil. Staring at you Matt remembered one of the things he bought and held it up to you. "I got you more flowers." He softly smiled. "I know your probably sick of them by now but they were half off so, you know."
Sighing he plucked at the grass in front of him. "Not much has happened. Except, you know Alisha? From my management team. I told you about her a couple weeks ago. She's new. Anyways, she-uh... She asked me out on a date. A-and I told her I'd think about it. She's great but... she's nothing like you." He mumbled. "I don't think anyone's ever going to be like you."
There was a brief silence until he spoke up again.
"Do you remember when I told you I'd never move on from you. I-It's true. Nothing can ever compare to you... But I know, for reasons I'd never understand, you would've wanted me to move on. So I thought I'd do this as um... closure? Just in case, but one of my biggest regrets is never doing this sooner because I was too scared." He lightly chuckled.
Matt stood up and reached into his pocket, suddenly feeling nervous.
"At Central." He whispered just so you could hear. "After the dinner and after we would explore the park and find the spot. And I was gonna tell you how much you mean to me and how I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Matt slowly pulled out a small box from his front pocket. "And then I was gonna get down on one knee and ask you to marry me." He whispered. Matt opened the box and gently placed it on the soil, littered with flowers he got you.
"I hope you would've said yes."
He stood in front of your grave.
"Goodbye, sweetheart."
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧.˚ₓ
"If you think about it, it'll be over in no time
And that's life."
WHEW
No bc I sobbed so hard writing this like goddamn
Shoutout to whoever said to put this out or they'd touch me wtf😃
But you guys rlly loved part 1 so here is your finale <3
Stay tuned see ya
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missuga · 2 years
Text
1:05 a.m. — Bakugo Katsuki
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+ established relationship, living together
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“Are you serious?” You huffed under your breath, rolling over slightly to look at your boyfriend who was currently using every blanket on the bed. Before both of you fell asleep, each blanket was perfectly draped the two of you, but now just the bottom half of your legs were covered. 
You tried your best to pull some of the blankets away from Bakugo without having to sit up but for no reason he had an iron grip on them. 
“You’re kidding me.” Groaning you pushed off the bed to sit up, pulling the blankets with both of your hands now hoping they’d give some at least. “Katsuki, stop hogging the blankets.”
“Go back to sleep.” His voice was low and you barely caught what he said. 
“I would love to but I can’t.” You pulled on the blankets once more but it didn’t work. “C’mon, I’m freezing and you’re the one who said using all these blankets was a dumb idea.” 
All he gave in response was a mumbled bunch of words that you couldn’t understand at all. You were getting tired of fighting for even a bit more of a blanket really quickly and even though you didn’t have to work in the morning you had wanted to get a good night's rest. 
“Oh my god whatever, keep the stupid blankets.” You sighed and let go of them, pushing yourself to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m sleeping on the couch.” 
You didn’t get the chance to even stand from the bed before he reached out and grabbed your arm. 
“No you’re staying here.” Bakugo was turned towards you now, one arm stretched across your side of the bed to stop you from leaving, and the other reaching to fix the blankets. 
“Oh, you’re going to be nice now?” You stared at him for a moment before he pulled you back into your bed fully. 
“I’m always nice.” He sounded so sleepy that even if you had wanted to argue with what he said, you couldn’t find the words to. “If you hadn’t kept the room so damn cold, you wouldn’t need all of these.” 
“That’s the best way to sleep in the winter.” You countered, remembering how he had said he’d be too warm with the amount of blankets and that he wouldn’t be using them. “Though, I thought you said you didn’t need them. Change your mind?” 
“Nope, I’m still sweating buckets.” 
You just managed to see him roll his eyes from the small bit of light drifting in through your windows, the smile pricking up the corner of his lips gave away his lie. 
“Mhm, right.” Settling back under the blankets you felt relieved that you weren’t going to have to sleep on the hard couch. “If you steal the blankets again you’re making breakfast in the morning.” 
“I was already planning to make breakfast.” He responded and you could hear the slight twinge of amusement in his voice. 
“I can’t stand you.” 
“Good.” He moved closer to you once you were fully settled, draping an arm across your waist and laying a good bit of his body on top of yours. “Oh my god, do not touch me with your cold ass feet.” 
You couldn't stop the laugh bubbling from your chest at his recoil when he felt your feet against his legs.
“You laid on me!” You protested, still laughing at his reaction. “They’re only this cold because you left me to freeze with no covers.”
“I thought we decided we were over that.” 
“We didn’t decide anything!” You rolled your eyes at how ridiculous he sounded. “Go to sleep, you’re becoming delirious.” 
“Only because you woke me up.” Bakugo mumbled, his warm breath against your neck sent small shivers down your back. 
“That’s because you woke me up.” You sighed softly, bringing a hand up to run through his hair almost as a reflex, enjoying how he snuggled against you even more at the feeling.
“Hmm, I don’t recall that.” His voice was so soft now and you knew he was just almost asleep again. 
“Night, Katsuki.” You said even quieter than him, knowing you weren’t too far behind now that you were a lot warmer than before. Tomorrow night you’d have to make sure you had a spare blanket just for yourself if he decided he needed all of them on the bed again. 
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