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dreamlover31 · 4 years

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Love Will Find a Way: Chapter 3

A few days had passed since that night, and while Alexa was still pissed at herself for not seizing the opportunity to kiss Rafael, at least it was a comfort to know that he was still interested in her. As her mind replayed the events of that night, she was completely unaware that someone was nudging on her upper arm, as her mind traveled back to the present, Alexa suddenly realized that she was sitting next to Olivia on the wooden park bench at the park where she would often take Noah. She was so entranced that she had completely forgotten about meeting up with them, and then it was as if everything came back in slow motion, the sounds of children playing, the feel of the crisp autumn air blowing against her face and the aroma coming from the coffee cup holding a pumpkin spice latte. Finally, Alexa looked up at Olivia as if she was a deer caught in headlights.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“Yeah, I was asking how things went with Barba”

“Oh…yeah it was great, I had a really good time”

“You sure?”

“Yeah…well up until we got to the front of my building”

“What happened?”

As Alexa took a sip of her latte, she paused for a moment before answering.

“He tried to kiss me but I backed away”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, and the thing is I wanted to but…oh man I’m such an idiot”

“You’re not, Alexa you had just gone through a bad breakup and it takes time to open up to someone new…but that doesn’t mean that there’s anything wrong with you”

As she continued to drink her latte, Alexa saw at the corner of your eye Noah climbing up on the jungle gym, as her and Olivia looked upon the bright and lively little boy, she felt the all too familiar vibrations coming from her phone inside her jean pocket. Upon pulling it out, she saw that it was Rafael calling.

“Hey listen, I gotta take this”

Olivia nodded as she walked over towards Noah to make sure that he didn’t hurt himself.

“Hey what’s up”

“Nothing much, just going through a pile of motions I just got handed from a slick defense attorney”

“Oh sorry to hear that…so listen, I really had a great time the other night”

“Yeah me too”

“I was hoping that maybe we could get together again”

“You read my mind”

Alexa laughed a little as she looked over at Olivia and Noah, she returned her gaze with a sly grin on her face.

“So what do you have in mind?”

“Not sure yet, but I’ll be sure to let you know”

“Ok…well I know you’re busy so I’ll let you get back to work”

“Alright, talk to you later”

“Bye”

After ending the call, Alexa placed her phone back in her pocket and headed over to the jungle gym where Olivia and Noah remained, as soon as she knelt down to his level, she glanced over at Olivia and said:

“Not a word”

Olivia raised her hands up to convey to her that she was not going to inquire further, it was then that Alexa looked at her watch and remembered that she needed to get back to the shelter, once she relayed that information to Olivia, the two of them said their goodbyes and planted a kiss on top of Noah’s forehead before leaving. Upon arriving at the shelter, Alexa tended to her charges, making sure that they had proper food and clothing especially the ones that had their children in tow; then when she returned to her desk, she placed some follow up calls on a couple of domestic violence cases where there was a need for restraining orders and legal representation on the part of the victim. While she was on the phone, one of the office assistants she worked with, Gladys, dropped a file on her desk and waved goodbye.

Alexa quickly reviewed the file, it was the same old story, a young woman in a toxic and violent relationship looking for an escape; the only difference was that the boyfriend in question was a corrections officer. There was a notation in the file that read that he had access to firearms and other weapons, that on several occasions he threatened that if she ever left him that he would have his friends come after her or do it himself. Alexa grabbed a sticky note from her desk and wrote that this was a special case that needed the utmost security, as the day was drawing to a close, she heard her phone vibrate once again only to find that it was a text from Rafael.

So I’ve thought about it and came up with this idea of taking you to this little whole in the wall that I know about up in the Bronx, hope you have some comfortable shoes.

She looked at the text with a puzzled expression, but ultimately replied:

Uh…ok, shall we say Saturday around 8?

Great, pick you up at your place

I’ll be on pins and needles ‘til then

As soon as the text was sent, she gathered her things and made the trip home. The days came and went as she anxiously waited for Saturday to come, when the day finally arrived, Alexa was ecstatic. All week she had tried to pry information from Rafael as to where he was taking her, but he was relentless at keeping it a surprise. During the early morning hours, she went out on her daily run and ran a few errands, as soon as she returned home; Alexa jumped in the shower and chilled out on the couch until it was time to get ready for her date with Rafael. After another round of browsing through the closet, she finally settled on a short, black maxi skirt and a white blouse; remembering what he said about comfortable shoes, she slipped on a pair of flats that had memory foam cushioning in them.

As she put on the finishing touches on her outfit, there was a knock at the door, Alexa grabbed her purse as she made it to the door. As soon as she opened it, she smiled when she saw Rafael looking very suave in a dark purple dress shirt and dark grey slacks with black dress shoes to boot.

“Wow looking good counselor”

“You don’t look so bad yourself, and its Rafael”

“Ok Rafael, shall we?”

After leaving the building and entering the awaiting cab, Alexa was still trying to get him to tell her where they were going, but he still wouldn’t give it up. During the cab ride, she was fidgeting around and bouncing her knees with anticipation and excitement, ultimately he had to grab her hand and stroke his thumb along it to calm her down.

“You’re killing me here with all this cloak and dagger stuff”

“Be patient carino, we’re almost there”

“Can’t you at least give me a hint?”

“No”

She groaned with annoyance and was about to lose it when the cabbie informed the two of them that they reached their destination, Alexa looked through her passenger side window and saw a red bricked building with a neon sign above that read Midnight Rendezvous, it was then that she put two and two together and said:

“You’re taking me dancing?”

“Yep”

“Oh Rafael…I don’t know what to say”

“You don’t have to say anything; your feet will do all the talking”

Alexa playfully slapped on his shoulder before he exited the cab and made his way around to help her out of her side, after he slipped the cabbie his tip, the two of them held hands as they entered the building. As she looked at the surroundings, she was amazed at the design of the interior of the club, red velvet with colorful strobe lights and the pulsating sounds of the Latin music reverberating around the place. Careful not to let go of his grip, Alexa and Rafael squeezed through the crowd of people to make it to the middle of the dance floor, it was a little nerve wracking since it had been a while since the last time she had done any salsa dancing; she had taken classes in college but hadn’t taken a refresher course.

“I have to warn you that I’m a little rusty”

“That’s ok, just follow my lead”

As the music continued to play, it was as if the rhythm and the beat were in sync with both of their bodies, Rafael rocked his hips as Alexa’s legs moved back and forth while swaying her hips, their bodies embraced in a waltz position as the two moved back and forth; Rafael spun Alexa around and pushed her out into the floor as he held on to her hand and then as he brought her back in, he dipped her body low enough that it almost touched the floor and brought her back up to face him.

As she looked up at him, it was as if all the adrenaline had gone to her head, because before she knew it, Alexa planted her lips upon his hard. He returned the kiss by using his tongue to push it inside her mouth, after what seemed like a few minutes of non-stop tongue action, the two of them looked upon each other with nervous smiles as sweat streamed down both of their brows; all the while they were getting some unwanted glances from the people surrounding them. As they noticed their stares and cheeky grins, the two of them just shrugged them off as they exited the club, as they made it out on to the street, Rafael waved down an oncoming cab. While the cab was making its trip back to Alexa’s apartment, she leaned her head on Rafael’s shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her, she decided to steal one more kiss as she looked up to face him.

“I can’t believe we just made out in front of a room filled with strangers”

“Salsa is a very passionate dance”

Alexa smiled as she continued to pepper him with kisses until the cabbie announced the arrival at her building, Alexa whined at the thought of leaving his side but at least she was glad to know that she would be seeing him again, probably real soon. As she exited the cab, Alexa walked over to Rafael’s window.

“Thanks again for taking me dancing”

“No problem…so when am I going to see you again?”

“Well I’ve got a new case at the shelter that’s top priority, but I’ll let you know”

“Alright, good night”

“Good night”

Before the cab drove off, they shared yet another kiss and then after it made its exit, she headed inside the building.

Tagging: @madpanda75 @madamsnape921 @misssirenlove @thatesqcrush @tropes-and-tales @laceybellerain @karens-imagined-world @teamsladsandgents @southern-magnolia @glimmerglittergirl @itsjustmyfantasyroom @youreverycolor @beccabarba

#rafael barba x reader #raul esparza #love will find a way

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banditthewriter · 5 years

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Redolence - Billy Russo - 6

Final part of this A/B/O series. This has been an amazing short journey and I am so grateful to everyone who has read, commented, reblogged, liked, or messaged about it. This my favorite story I’ve written so far, so thank you for letting me share it.

Reminder, I use a comprehensive set of warnings so please be mindful. If you have questions or concerns, shoot me a message!

Redolence: the quality of smelling strongly of something or of having qualities (especially smells) that make you think of something else

Warnings: Smut. No really, lots of smut. Also angst because yeah. Sex in various positions. Oral sex (male and female receiving.) The reader does sleep with other Alphas but it is only ever mentioned, never described. Some talk of slave trade, not detailed. Angry sex. Unprotected sex. Reader experiences a bad panic attack that is described.

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif is mine*

Enjoy!

*****

The touchscreen near the door chimed and you winced. Your head was killing you as if you had been drinking for days but you had just been crying.

It had been almost a week since you’d last seen Billy. You had denied a request from an Alpha in that time frame but you knew you needed to get back to work. So with that in mind you went to the touchscreen and turned it on.

It was a woman, Laura, and that was all you needed to see before you accepted the Alpha. It was a few days away, but it was a step in the right direction. At least this way you could tell yourself that you were trying.

Your phone sat untouched on the counter. You had missed calls from Karen and you knew you’d need to respond at some point before she tried to break into the center to find you, but you just couldn’t handle it yet.

She would hear it in your voice and you were incapable of lying to her. You’d tell her that not only were you in love with that Alpha you had told you about but that you broke your own heart by telling him you wouldn’t be his companion anymore.

You’d also tell her about what happened at his place and that was just opening up a can of worms you didn’t have the time or energy for.

Another reason you hadn’t touched your phone was because you were honestly worried you might try to contact Billy. After what had happened when he dropped you off, you doubted he’d want that. And it wouldn’t be a good idea.

The clothes he had let you wear home were in a vacuum sealed bag in your closet. Every now and then you opened it up to catch his scent and felt even more guilty. It was like you were stealing memories.

Billy’s rut was coming up. You kept away from the computer so that you couldn’t look him up and see if any Omegas had left a comment regarding spending his rut with them. You didn’t want to know who he picked after you. You didn’t want to think about him with someone else.

You just couldn’t. It would break you and you wouldn’t be able to function.

Instead you curled up on the couch with a blanket around you. You missed Billy but you needed to move on.

------

The sheets were changed, toiletries were laid out, and food was waiting. You paced back and forth in your living room as if you couldn’t stop moving.

When the door chimed, you almost smacked into it in your rush to check the touchscreen. After you checked that the woman on the other side was Laura, you opened the door to let her in.

“Make yourself at home,” you said as you opened the door wider for her to walk in.

Laura started to step in but she stopped, her nose wrinkling. You watched as she took a long sniff and start to shake her head.

“I’m really sorry, this isn’t going to work,” she said as she frowned, her eyes meeting yours. “I respect an Omega’s choice of work, but I refuse to sleep with a mated Omega.”

You had a lot of emotions at once at that, but you pushed them down. Instead you quickly shook your head and stepped a little closer to her.

“I’m not mated, really,” you started but she let out a laugh.

“Honey, you’re so mated that I smelled it in the hallway. I just didn’t realize it was you.”

You gave a discrete sniff of your shirt and then looked back at Laura. She wasn’t frowning anymore, but you could see the confusion on her face. You were glad you weren’t the only confused one.

“I mean, there was a guy, but we didn’t… we didn’t do the mating ritual.” You would have remembered that. “And I’ve… I’ve had other Alphas and none of them ever said...”

Laura sighed. She didn’t shut the door, but she did take your hand.

“This isn’t a regular mating scent so most Alphas wouldn’t have really noticed. They may have noticed that you didn’t smell exactly like your scent receptor down in the choosing room, but they probably didn’t think anything of it.” She squeezed your hand and gave you a comforting smile. “I’ve been around True Mates my whole life so I know the scent a mile away. It’s the same scent my parents have.”

You opened your mouth and then immediately shut it. Then you tried again but no words would come out.

Laura laughed. She reached into her purse and pulled out an old receipt and a pen. She wrote something down and handed it to you.

“I’d stay and talk to you tonight, but my rut is coming so I need to get back down to the choosing room and pick another one. Here’s my number though. Call me tomorrow afternoon and we can meet up for lunch, okay?”

She squeezed your hand and gave you a beautiful smile.

“It’s going to be okay honey, I promise.”

With that she turned and walked out of the apartment. You shut the door and looked down at the receipt for a long moment. Then you contacted the Betas in the choosing room so they’d know the Alpha had rejected you. You didn’t tell them why and you doubted she would either.

You settled onto your couch, hands shaking as you pulled your knees up to your chin. It was doubtful that your True Mate was anyone but Billy. If she was right—and why would she lie—it explained so much.

It explained why you felt different about him from day one. It explained why you could never stop thinking about him. It may even explain why you’d felt so drained lately unless you were with him. It explained why you wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anything before. And why you were such an emotional mess when it came to him.

It still did not absolve the fact that you didn’t feel like you were good enough for him. Just because you were True Mates didn’t mean that you would have to be together, right? Because if you were True Mates, he would be feeling these things as well and that hadn’t changed how he acted.

You felt so lost and you couldn’t wait until tomorrow when you could call Laura and get more information about it. You had a feeling you’d need it.

------

“Your scent isn’t as repulsive when I’m not in my rut,” Laura said as she sat down across from you at the small diner the two of you ended up at. “Hope you got some sleep last night although I doubt you did.”

You smiled as you pulled your cup of coffee closer to you.

“Is it because I look like death? Because I feel like death.”

Laura smiled and ordered her own drink. Once it was delivered, she took a long sip before she looked at you.

“You probably have questions. Go ahead and ask.”

You sat up a little straighter. You’d been up most of the night thinking this through so you did have questions. Hopefully you didn’t forget anything.

You really should have written them down.

“Is this why I’ve been feeling so run down lately?”

She nodded and propped her arms onto the table as she met your gaze.

“True Mates have the added benefit of their bodies wanting to get the actual mating done as soon as possible so this is your body telling you to get a move on. How long have you known this person?”

You winced as you leaned back in your seat.

“Few months.”

She let out a whistle through her teeth. Then she shrugged her shoulder.

“It can be mistaken as a lot of things so it’s not unusual I guess. Especially if you don’t know the signs.”

That wasn’t on your list, but it did make you curious. You asked her what the signs were and watched as she made a mental list in her head before she started talking.

“You feel connected to them almost instantly. Your body reacts to them immediately. The sex is usually fantastic,” she said with a grimace. “Things I didn’t need to know about my parents honestly.”

You laughed at that and settled into your seat a little more.

“You said there’s a different scent right? And it’s just so uncommon that no one would recognize it?”

“Yeah, True Mates aren’t really something you see a lot of these days. Most people honestly think they are a myth if that tells you anything. But because I grew up with them, I can smell it all over you. Honestly I couldn’t tell that you weren’t actually mated with him because it’s so strong.”

You wondered if that had anything to do with the fact that you and Billy had slept together just over a week before, but you weren’t about to ask that. Plus you didn’t need to know anyone else what you had done outside of the center’s walls.

“Does it feel the same for Omegas and Alphas? Is he… does he feel like this too?”

It was a question that you knew you needed to ask. You needed to know if he was going through the same hell that you were.

The look on her face said that you weren’t going to like the answer.

“Being True Mates doesn’t mean that it’s a match made in heaven, it just means that you are ultimately compatible. There are plenty of True Mates who can’t stand each other or who just never fell in love. So physically he’ll feel like you, but like you he might just think he’s not feeling well. Emotionally? Well, to each their own.”

So that wasn’t the answer you wanted, but at least you had the truth now. It didn’t exactly make you feel better to know that Billy was feeling as run down as you were, but it also didn’t answer you question of whether or not he cared about you too.

What did it matter? It didn’t matter if you were True Mates; you still weren’t going to be good enough for him.

“Does it… does it ever go away? If we don’t mate, will it just fade with time?”

She gave you a sad smile.

“No, it doesn’t,” she said softly. “And those pesky feelings you have for him that aren’t part of the True Mate thing? Those don’t really go away on their own either. If you want to get over him, that’s a possibility, but it takes a lot of time and some effort.”

You propped your chin up on your hand as you stared out of the window. Even without the True Mate thing, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to get over Billy. You fell in love and you’d fallen hard.

“Should I tell him? About… it affects him too, right?”

Laura shrugged her shoulder and leaned back in her chair.

“That’s up to you. Someone may tell him down the road, that’s always a possibility, but it just depends on what you want. And honestly if you tell him that you’re True Mates, you should probably tell him how you feel. Not really a better time than that.”

You wiped a hand over your face and sighed.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

------

You draped the blanket over your couch and sighed. You were exhausted and really needed a nap, but it was barely noon. As you stepped over a box in the floor, you headed into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Mid-sip, you heard your cell phone buzz on the charger.

“Coming, coming,” you mumbled as you made your way across the living room to grab the phone. It was probably Karen wanting to check on you.

Instead you found yourself looking at Billy’s name. You had never deleted him out of your phone despite knowing that you should. And you were glad you hadn’t, but you weren’t prepared to talk to him.

The screen stopped flashing and turned dark. Your shoulders sagged in disappointment. After a long moment where the phone didn’t buzz to say that you had a voicemail, you started to turn away. But the phone started up again.

His name was flashing on the screen. You picked up the phone and let your finger hover over the button to accept the call. And as it rang on more, you realized it was going to end again.

Maybe he wouldn’t call back this time.

Without thinking, you accepted the call and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“What the fuck happened? Where are you?”

Did he have to sound so angry? You had missed him so much over these last couple of weeks and hearing his voice now was wonderful. You just wished he didn’t sound so angry.

“What do you mean?”

You heard him let out a huff.

“I called the center when my rut came up. When I asked about you, they said you weren’t there anymore. Is it because what happened with us?”

You settled down on the edge of the couch, your fingers rubbing over your knee.

“You said you wouldn’t ask for me again.”

“Goddammit Y/N that’s not the point! What happened? Where are you?”

You looked around your new apartment and sighed.

“I left the center. I got my own place in the city.”

There was nothing but silence on the line. You wondered if you had somehow lost service, but then you heard him swear.

“Is this because what happened? Between the two of us? Fuck, you didn’t have to tell them what happened.”

You swallowed and stretched your legs out, feeling the urge to pace. There were a few too many boxes in your apartment for that to be a good idea though so you stayed put. The restless energy would disappear over time.

“I didn’t tell them. I just left because… because it was time.”

It hadn’t been something you ever thought you’d do, but you felt good for having done it. You had more than enough money to the point where you probably would never have to work if you didn’t want to, but you were still looking for a job. You weren’t ashamed of your time as a companion at the center, but you had to admit to being happy to being out of there.

No more Alphas, no more routines, no more… wishing every person you were with was Billy.

“What… what are you going to do now?”

You shrugged your shoulders even though he couldn’t see you.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll figure it out as I go.”

And you would. That was the only part that kept you relaxed as your whole life was tilted upside down.

There was silence on the other line for a while but you could hear him breathing.

“If you’re not protected by the center, who is protecting you? Are you… did you find someone to claim you?”

Did his voice have to waver as he asked that? It wasn’t fair and it made you think of impossible things.

“My best friend’s mate gave a temporary claim on me until I find a job.”

You weren’t going to ask for it but the moment Karen heard you were leaving, she had jumped at the chance. She told you that Frank would claim you until you found a job or decided what else you wanted to do. Now you wore an ID tag with his information on it. It did make you feel a little bit like a dog, but you didn’t mind.

It was temporary. You just had to keep telling yourself that.

“I’m glad you’re doing okay. And I hope this works out for you.”

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes. His voice was so soft and caring that it felt like you had been transported to a month ago, before everything went to hell. You wiped at the tears uselessly and gave a little laugh.

“I didn’t think you’d want anything to do with me after…”

Billy let out a sigh on the other side of the call.

“I shouldn’t have said those things. I was pissed off and confused and… I never should have talked to you like that. I just couldn’t figure out why you were doing that. Still not sure why you did it.”

You took a deep breath and let it out quietly. You weren’t going to do this. You had made the decision when you decided to leave that you weren’t going to reach out to Billy and tell him about the True Mates thing. But hearing his voice right now was making you rethink that decision.

“Could we… meet for coffee or something? I have your clothes and I, well, I want to explain.”

You held your breath as you waited for his response.

“There’s a coffee shop just down from my apartment. Today?”

You were in no way ready for this but there wasn’t another option. You needed to tell Billy not only why you had tried to put distance between the two of you, but why both of you were feeling the way you were. He needed to know.

He deserved that.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

------

“I can’t do this,” you said into your phone as you walked down the street towards the coffee shop Billy had told you about. “I can’t go meet him and tell him how I feel. I can’t… I can’t tell him the truth.”

Karen sighed on the other side of the call.

“You have to though. And I still can’t believe you never told me that you had a True Mate. Do you realize how big that is? I tell you everything about me and Frank–”

“Including the things I ask you not to tell me,” you cut in with a grin.

“–and you couldn’t tell me something as big as this? I don’t even know the guy’s name.”

You could see the coffee shop in the distance and it made your stomach flip.

“I’ll tell you all about it once this is over. I’m almost there so I can’t chicken out now.”

Karen let out a soft laugh, but you knew she wasn’t laughing at you. Then you heard her murmur something to Frank in the background.

“I’ve gotta go help Frank with something. He said one of his buddies is calling him freaking out about something. Call me when you’re done?”

You promised her you would and then stopped on the corner close to the coffee shop. Once you were in there and this conversation was had, it would be over. One way or another, it would be over.

In the distance you saw Billy getting out of his car. He was on the phone so you took the moment to look him over. He looked good, even from this far away. His hair was styled and he was wearing a suit. Had he just come from work? You were so used to seeing him in jeans and a t-shirt or sweater.

Or those grey sweats. You weren’t proud of it but you had thought about them a lot.

He must have ended the call because he slid the phone into his pocket. Then he turned as if he was looking around. You knew the moment he saw you because it felt like he was physically touching you. Even from this distance, his eyes held a power over you that you couldn’t explain.

Except you could explain it now.

With a deep breath, you made it across the street and over to the coffee shop. The quicker you got through this, the quicker it would be done.

And you needed it to be done soon.

“Hey,” you said as soon as you stood in front of him.

He looked you up and down and you tried not to think about what he was looking at. Or what he was looking for. He jerked his head at the shop door and you gave him a nod before you followed him. He opened the door and held it open for you, his hand out as if he was going to guide you in with his hand on the small of your back.

Instead he dropped it to his side and turned to look away from you.

No one said it was going to be easy.

He led you into the coffee shop and up to the counter. You both ordered your drinks but when you pulled out your wallet, you saw that Billy had already handed over his card to pay for them. You tried to offer to pay him back, but he just jerked his head over towards the tables.

“Pick a table. I’ll bring your drink when it’s done.”

You hesitated only for a moment before you moved over to a table in the corner of the room. It was tucked far enough away that no one would be able to overhear you pouring your heart out. You stared down at the cracked and peeling polish on the wooden table until your drink was put down in front of you. Then Billy sat down in the seat across from you.

You needed to start the conversation, tell him the truth and get it out there before you went crazy, but you couldn’t find the words. Even all of the things you practiced on your walk over here seemed unable to come out as you stared at Billy’s hands as he prepared his coffee.

You remembered making coffee for him after his ruts. You knew how he liked to take it, how he didn’t care if it was too hot or not. The smell of coffee alone made you think of Billy.

After today, that would be doubly true.

“You said you wanted to explain,” Billy reminded you as he put his cup back down on the table.

First you pushed the paper bag you had next to your chair over towards his side of the table. It was the clothes he had given you to wear that day in his apartment. You had finally broken down and washed them, losing his scent as you did. And now they were tucked into the bag, folded neatly and carefully.

He just picked the bag up and dropped it beside his chair. Your hands shook as you reached out for your drink, but you didn’t take a sip.

“I’m going to tell you this but I want you to know that I’m not expecting anything from you regarding it. And that I don’t… I don’t want you to say anything until I get this all out because if I don’t do it at once, I don’t think I’ll be able to get it all out.”

Billy looked surprised and then concerned, but he nodded. You swallowed thickly before you began.

“From the first... first meeting, I thought something was different. I wasn’t sure why, but I couldn’t help… I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And it just got worse. I was also feeling… rundown a lot. Except when I was with you. I didn’t think anything about it at first but I found out why.” You swallowed again and curled your hands into fists. “Apparently you and I are True Mates.”

Jesus that was way past ripping off the bandaid. That felt more like you had tried to remove the bandaid with a grenade.

Billy blinked at you a few times, his face expressionless. Then he cleared his throat and leaned forward. You waited to see if he would speak, but he waved his hand as if to ask you to continue.

You had asked him to let you get it all out and he was letting you.

“Okay. So, there’s that. And then there’s… what you and I did at your place. I meant it when I said that… when I said that a companion can’t do that stuff, because we can’t. And I was really messed up about it because it goes against everything that I’ve been taught, but I also… god, I wanted it so bad. And that’s… it’s because of the True Mates, I guess, but it’s also... “

You weren’t sure you could say the words. Your face felt hot and you realized that you couldn’t see Billy anymore. You’d shut your eyes, but it wasn’t stopping the tears from starting to slip down your cheeks.

“It’s also because I love you. I fell in love with you, even without the True Mates bond, but because you’re… you’re so amazing and handsome and, just perfect, and I feel—felt more like myself with you. I felt like I could take on the world. And I knew that it wouldn’t work with us because you’re, well you’re you and I’m a companion, just… I sleep with Alphas in their ruts and you deserve better than that. So I needed to put distance between us or else I’d just… keep hurting. And I didn’t want to put you in that position.”

You took a deep breath and brushed the tears from your eyes before you looked at him. His neutral expression was still there, but his eyes were narrowed. It reminded you of the look in the car right before he told you to get out.

“That’s it, that’s everything. We’re apparently True Mates, I love you, and I know you don’t… you can’t see me like that. So I’m sorry for the way I handled things, but it’s over now. Now you know and I’m not your companion anymore so you can…”

You can find someone else for your ruts, you started to say, but you remembered what he had said when he had called you. He had called the center for his rut and had asked for you, despite saying he wouldn’t. He didn’t smell like his rut, so he must have called you after it was over.

He’d already slept with someone else. You weren’t sure why that hurt considering what your job had been, but the thought of him with someone else? His hands on their skin, his mouth on theirs? His scent on them?

You shot out of your seat, the legs scraping against the floor loudly. You wiped at your face again, unable to meet his eyes as you reached down to pick up the purse you had dropped.

“I’m so sorry Billy, but you won’t have to see me again. I’m so sorry.”

With that you hurried through the shop and to the door. Out in the open air, you took a few deep breaths to keep the panic away.

You’d been an idiot. Even though you went into this saying that you were just going to tell him the truth and let it be, you had apparently gone into it with some hope that it wouldn’t end that way. Some fantasy had crept in that Billy would hear all of this and declare that not only was he not mad, but that he loved you too.

You pressed your hand to your chest in an effort to calm your panicked breathing, but it wasn’t helping. You hunched down on the sidewalk, your hand on the brick of the building. People walked by without care as you shook and sobbed, unable to breathe.

Hands were on your face, a calm voice that asked you to breathe. You couldn’t, couldn’t even try, but the voice didn’t stop. It told you that it was okay, to breathe, to keep listening to it. You tried to focus, tried to… tried…

Something shifted in your chest. No, not your chest. You were shifted. You were pulled into someone’s arms and the world was moving, but you couldn’t tell what was up. There was so much light but everything was dark, it didn’t make sense. Then you were sitting, something soft under you.

Still the hands were there, on your face and on your arms. The voice kept up a steady stream of words until you could focus more on them.

“I’m right here, focus on my voice. Come on, breathe in for me baby, let it out. Keep doing that, you’re doing good.”

You blinked a few times to clear your vision, the tears stinging your eyes as they fell. Right around the time that your vision cleared up enough to realize that Billy was crouched down beside you, you also realized that you were surrounded by his scent. The scent of him penetrated the wall of haze in your head and suddenly you were clearer.

You’d had a panic attack, something you hadn’t had since high school. He must have carried you to his car because you were crumpled up in the passenger seat and he was kneeling outside with the door open, his hands on your face and brushing against your shoulders and arms. He was still talking, still guiding your breaths, but you were better.

And then you were horrendously embarrassed. After everything you’d already told Billy today, now he was helping you through a panic attack? How pathetic were you?

“Don’t say that,” he said sternly, cluing you into the fact that you’d said at least part of that out loud. “You’re not pathetic. Panic attacks can happen to anyone. How are you feeling?”

How were you feeling? Your chest hurt, your skin felt too tight, your stomach had relocated to your left heel, and you were pretty sure that you were dehydrated now.

“I’m okay,” you said with a shaky breath as you shifted in the seat. “I uh, I can go. I’m sorry, you didn’t have to–”

“Don’t apologize,” he said in a gruff voice as he stood up.

For what? There was so many things. You wiped at your face and then laughed as Billy held out his pocket square. You used it to wipe at your cheeks and eyes, glad that you hadn’t worn makeup to this meeting.

Your purse was on the floor next to your foot. You stared at it for a long moment as if you didn’t recognize it.

“I should go.”

Billy shook his head and looked down at you in the car. You grabbed your purse and stood up, but held on to the door for balance. When you tried to take a step away, Billy moved so that he could box you in.

“No, see you walked away from me already once today. You’re gonna hear what I have to say now.”

Your back rested against the frame of the car, your hands shaking as you stared into his eyes. You could only imagine what he had to say.

“When did you find out about the True Mates thing?”

You sniffled, but you were unable to look away from him.

“After… after the last time we saw each other. Someone had been raised by True Mates and she recognized the scent that was on me apparently.”

He nodded.

“And being True Mates, is that why… you feel the way you do?”

At least he hadn’t grimaced when he’d said the words, but the pause wasn’t especially favorable.

“No. Being True Mates just means our bodies are compatible. What we… what I feel, it’s all me.”

Billy nodded. Then he looked away. Without having him stare into your eyes, you felt yourself shake a bit. You hadn’t thought that he’d want to know more about it. You hadn’t thought he’d want to know anything except how to make it stop. At least he would only have to worry about the physical effects. You would be stuck loving him until you died.

When he met your eyes again, they weren’t expressionless. In fact there was so much emotion in his eyes that your breath was taken away. It reminded you of how he looked down at you when you were in bed, the moment after he came as he stared into your eyes. There was so much there that you almost staggered backwards except the car was there.

“Who gives you the right to tell me what I deserve? Who gives you the right to decide that you’re not good enough for me?”

You shook your head, unsure how to put words together right then. Billy stepped closer to you until you could feel the warmth from his body.

“Jesus Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since that second time I went to the center. I didn’t kiss you because I was horny, I kissed you because I wanted you. And I came back to you after that because I didn’t want anyone else.”

Were your feet still on the ground? You felt like you were floating. You reached up and pressed your hand to your chest where you could feel your heart pounding. Was this real? Or had you passed out during your panic attack and this was some kind of dream?

“I couldn’t even have someone else help me through my rut this last time. Once I found out you weren’t there anymore, I just locked myself in my apartment until it passed. I don’t want anyone else but you because I fucking love you.”

You sagged, tears in your eyes for a different reason.

“Please don’t… don’t just say that. Don’t say that because you want to hurt me, please,” you begged as your hands shook.

You barely had time to get the words out before lips were pressed to yours. Billy wrapped one hand around the back of your neck to keep you close and angle the kiss. Your hands were clenched in the lapels of his jacket as you returned the kiss with equal fervor.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I love you so much, I don’t ever want to hurt you again,” he promised against your lips as he held you closer.

You believed him. With his hands in your hair and your lips pressed together, him whispering the words over and over with as much honesty and urgency as he held in him, you believed him.

He loved you. And both of you were still very emotional over what had happened, but it was going to get better. The two of you together would get better.

------

“Oh shit,” you heard someone say from the living room.

You made your way that direction and then froze. Standing in the middle of your living room was Billy, Frank, and Karen. Karen looked surprised while Billy and Frank were laughing and… hugging?

“Why didn’t you tell me that your True Mate was Billy Russo? Jesus, that’s Frank’s best friend! He was at the official part of our mating ceremony.”

You looked among the three of them and started to laugh. Billy came over and wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you close, his lips brushing against your temple.

“More proof that it was meant to be,” he said before he leaned in to kiss you.

It definitely felt like that.

------

Pleasure rolled through your body as Billy licked up the length of your slit, his tongue circling around your clit over and over while you rolled your hips up into his face. His hands held your thighs open as he licked and sucked at you.

“Come on my Omega, I can feel that you’re close, come for me,” he said against your core, grinning when his words were enough to tip you over the edge. “Mm, tastes like sugar on my tongue.”

You swatted at his shoulder before you pulled him up and on top of you. He leaned over you and kissed you, the taste of yourself on his lips. You surged upwards against him, rubbing your aching pussy against his cock in desperation to get him inside you.

“C’mon Alpha, fuck me,” you begged as you scratched down his back.

He separated your thighs a little more before he took his cock in hand. After a few pumps, he put the head at your entrance and thrust inside easily. You swore and arched under him at the stretch, feeling so full and so good.

Then he started to thrust and you thought you were going to pass out.

He bent down and pressed his lips to the mated mark on your neck, running his tongue over the edge where his name was. Your hand reached up and pressed against the one he had on his neck, your thumb brushing over your name along the bottom.

“Mine,” he said with a smile as he gave another hard thrust, earning a moan from you. “And I’m yours.”

You nodded and surged up to kiss him, whining in his mouth as his thrusts became harder and faster. Without the scent of his rut or you mirroring him, the room was full of the scent of both of you. It smelled like lemongrass and eucalyptus, clean earthy smells that had followed you both around. And now you couldn’t even tell the difference in where your scent began and his ended.

If love had a scent, it would be this. You knew it deep in your bones.

You knew that whatever the world threw at the two of you, you would get through it together. You had been under Billy’s spell from day one, but now you knew he had been under your spell too. So much time had been wasted and the two of you had decided not to waste another moment.

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kittybellestark · 4 years

Text

Peter Parker Went Silent

TW: Small description of rape, mentions of suicide, and dissociation

It was a gradual thing. Everyday he just became more silent, he started speaking less and less as time went on. It was just slow enough that no one noticed as it was happening. It just seemed normal as it was happening that no one saw he was silent until weeks later.

It was a lab day when it finally clicked with Tony that Peter hasn’t spoken, in a really long time. Music was blasting at a comfortable volume, and Tony could hear Peter’s leg bouncing, knee hitting the workbench then heel bouncing off the ground.

“How was school Pete?” Tony asked, eyeing the kid carefully.

Peter shrugged, hardly looking up from what he was doing, not making any eye contact.

“Anything special happen?”

Peter shakes his head.

“Anything special on Patrol?”

Peter shakes his head again.

“What about Ted and MJ?” Tony goaded, knowing that calling Ned the wrong name would lead to Peter correcting him. “Anything interesting happen to them?”

Peter just shrugs again, and Tony sighs.

“Are you okay, Peter?” Tony settles on.

Peter hesitates for a moment before nodding. Tony drops the conversation for now, deciding to find out what could be causing this another way.

~~~~

As Tony had gathered information from Peter’s friends and Aunt, it became even more glaringly obvious that something was very, very, wrong with Peter. He wasn’t eating anywhere’s near as much as he used to, hasn’t said a word in weeks, won’t hang out with his friends anymore, almost never home, and when Peter was home he was sleeping. His patrols were shorter, and Spider-Man wasn’t talking either, instead Peter was relying on Karen to just understand which web combinations he’ll need at what time.

“Harley, any chance you know what’s happening with Peter?”

“He was acting strange before he broke up with me, but I figured it was because he wanted to break things off. Haven’t seen him since then why?”

“He doesn’t talk, or eat anymore. He just exists for a little while, disappears for a bit then sleeps. He’s not Peter anymore.”

Harley seemed surprised but what he was hearing. While he felt he had known Peter pretty well, considering they had dated, everything just seemed out of character for him.

“Okay, thanks Harley, if you do see him and notice anything strange, could you just let me know?”

With that Tony left Harley to cultivate a new plan.

~~~~

Stupid Tony. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This is a bad plan. A really bad plan. He really should have given it more thought that he had. Following Peter after school when in disguise was a really bad idea. Can he be arrested for this? He’s just looking out for his kid, his kid who hasn’t been himself forever now. His kid who he neglected to realize something was wrong.

So here he is in a disguise and a really high quality mask over his face that makes it so no one realizes that he’s Tony Stark. Following his damn kid, because Peter has said nothing to him or anyone about what is going on in his life.

Tony watches as Peter leaves the school, hood up over his head, headphones on, and his head down. He walked slowly, like he didn’t want what was coming for him, but has resigned himself to whatever it is.

Another man, large, starting to bald with a bushy beard came out from around a corner matching his pace with Peter’s and walking besides him. Peter’s shoulders tensed up for a moment before dropping again, as he continued his journey.

Tony continued to follow as Peter and this other man seemed to be on the same path, almost walking in-step with each other. They has seemed to come to their destination, the man giving Peter a little bit of a nudge before opening a door to an apartment complex that looked half falling down, ready to have a sign with the word ‘CONDEMNED’ written on it.

Peter paused for a moment as the door was held open for him. Peter looked around the streets, maybe looking for something or maybe someone before dropping his head, walking in as his one arm was grabbed.

Tony walked up to the door trying it, but it was locked. Tapping on his glasses and activating FRIDAY. His anxiety spiking, not knowing what was happening behind closed doors.

“FRI, tell me where Peter is, now.” Tony grit out, pacing the front of the building.

“Peter Parker appears to be on the top floor towards the back of the building. There is a fire escape that should give you direct access to the room he’s in.”

Tony nodded, looking for an easy way to get to the back, finding the only way was through an alley half a block away. Tony started the trek, wishing that he could already be there, not feeling comfortable leaving Peter alone for this much longer than he wished to be.

“Boss, I’m sending out a medical team to you location, and advised Ms Romanoff and Mr Barnes to make their way over to your location as well.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means that I currently have visuals on Peter, and you need to prepare yourself. He’ll need a lot of support after today and you’ll need to be there, Boss.”

Tony bursts into a run at those words, feeling the uneasiness take over his being, as he turned the corner and into the alley, looking for the right fire escape before pulling down the ladder and climbing it at record speed.

“Tony, do you copy us?” Natasha voice came through FRIDAY.

“Yeah, yeah, you guys got here fast.”

“Do you know what the situation is?” Barnes asked.

“No idea, but FRIDAY think its really bad, I just go to the window where Peter and the other guy is.”

Tony paused for a moment, before peeking up over the window sill and looking in.

Peter was face down on a counter, his head turned towards the window that Tony was looking in, his eyes were glassy and unseeing, tears streaming down his face. Peter wasn’t wearing any clothing, his body covered in bruises and welts. He was being jerked forwards and pulled back again a rhythm set by the man behind him abusing Peter.

Tony dropped back down as to not be seen from the next piece of Iron Man Roadkill.

“I’m going to kill him. Gonna make it a nice slow death, really gonna kill him.” Tony muttered, peeling the mask off his face, wanting the man who is hurting his kid to know who is killing him.

“I need someone here right now before I take his head off and throw it into the East River.”

Tony grabbed his watch pulling it into a gauntlet, before breaking in the window. It worried Tony how Peter continued to not react, where the other man knew he was caught, pulling away from Peter, and tucking himself back into his pants, and trying to make a run for it. Tony blasted him with his repulsor, forcing the man to the ground.

Natasha and Barnes kicked the door down, guns pointed at the man on the ground advising Tony to go to Peter. Tony nods, turning back to his broken kid, who stayed exactly in his position half on and half off the counter. Tony went around the counter to be in front of Peter’s face.

“Peter? Hey, hey, it’s me, it’s Tony, you like to call me Mr Stark for some forsaken reason. Things are going to be okay now, right? You can come back to us whenever you feel safe, okay?” Tony made sure to not touch Peter, not wanting to scare him any further.

Peter’s eyes still held no sign of Peter actually being present at the time, which Tony was sure was probably for the best right now as the medical team showed up. Thankfully FRIDAY sent Helene Cho and her team, and not someone that Tony didn’t trust with everything he had in them.

“Stark, you know we’re going to have to do a Rape Kit, right? It’d be best to do it as soon as possible before we have to clean the evidence off of him.” Helene spoke, before moving on to Peter, speaking softly to him.

It felt like a century before Peter was finally being loaded in the of the Med-Evac van and being brought to the tower, as SHIELD took pictures and collected evidence of the ‘altercation’ that happened in the apartment.

~~~~

“Where’s Peter?” May asked Tony, as Tony met her in the lobby of the tower.

“He’s in the Medbay. He doesn’t look good, May. He’s not even responsive right now, it’s really bad.” Tony explained, leading her up to where Peter is being kept.

“Who did this to my baby? I’ll kill them with my bare hands.” May’s face was red, as she shook her head. She had a bag of some comfort items that Peter’s used in the past, having being told what happened earlier on the phone.

“His name is Scott Wescott.” Tony answered. “He was an in-”

“Inmate at Queens Detention Facility. Prosecuted for sexually assaulting a minor, who was Peter by the way. Pardoned 3 months ago on good behavior. But he goes by Skip. I’m going to kill him.”

“Wait, he’s done this to Peter before?”

“I don’t know how I didn’t notice, again. I’m supposed to be his guardian, but then this doesn’t just happen to Peter once, but twice. It was all the same signs, I just thought this time it was because Skip got released, not because he was going through the same trauma again.”

“It’s not your fault, May, we all should have noticed that something was up with him. Peter started to shut us all out, he probably didn’t want any of us to know.”

May nodded as they finally made it to Peter’s room. Tony opened the door for her letting her in as he went in after May. Peter’s eyes were still blank as he was placed on the bed in a sitting position. Helene had said Peter has disassociated in a way to protect himself and that it may take him a little while to come out of it.

May had walked up to Peter, speaking softly to him, starting to pull some items out of the bag. First was a sweater that she put around Peter’s shoulders, then a thick knit blanket, and a stuffed bear. There was a few other things that she pulled out as well, but nothing seemed to work, Peter just continued to sit there.

“I’m going to go get us some coffee, I’ll be right back.” Tony spoke softly to May, before getting up from his seat and leaving Peter’s room.

Tony made it to elevator before feeling himself start to crack. He pinched his nose, holding in his breath and counting to 10 and breathing out, trying to compartmentalize these emotions away, until a time that Peter doesn’t need him.

“Tony, why didn’t you tell me Peter was in the MedBay? Was it from patrol or did something else happen? Why didn’t you call me?” Harley asked as soon as the elevator doors opened again, following Tony into the kitchen.

“Harls, I just left Peter’s room. I don’t know if he wants you to see him the way he is right now. He’s conscience but mentally in a really bad spot right now. Not to throw salt in the wound, but he probably broke up with you because he didn’t want you to see him when all this started.”

“When all this started? You can’t say things like that without letting me see him. Please Tony, I still care about him a lot, please let me see him, just for like 5 minutes.” Harley begged as his accent got thicker and voice started to crack, his face getting redder.

“I’ll ask May, she’s his guardian and gets to make the final decision on these things. Now help me make some coffee for May and I. Maybe some hot cocoa for yourself and Peter too, I wanna try and get him to ingest something.”

They make the drinks and make their way back downstairs to the MedBay. Harley stops outside of Peter’s room as Tony steps back in. Peter is still unresponsive, but May grabs the coffee from him and giving an attempt of a smile.

“There’s a love sick Tennessee boy out there hoping to get the chance to see Peter. He told only wants five minutes, I told him you got the final word on visitation.”

“Yeah, better for him to see Peter then wonder what Peter is like right now. Let him in.”

“Harley, you can come in.” Tony called out.

The teen boy stumbled into the room, holding a hot cocoa for himself and one for Peter. He stopping in his tracks, seeing the blank look on Peter’s face, how Peter wasn’t registering anything, that he was essentially a shell of who everyone grew to know Peter to be.

“Peter?” Harley barely whispered.

Harley seemed to crack, moving forward and putting the two drinks on the beside table and moving to Peter’s side. Harley rest a hand on Peter’s cheek, whispering his name again. This time Peter’s eyes snapped to attention, watching Harley with fear in his eyes, shaking his head as he pushed himself away.

“Hey, baby. Baby you’re okay, no one is going to hurt you anymore. You’re safe it’s okay.” May spoke quickly as Harley pulled his hand away from Peter’s face.

Peter turned to her, his eyes wide and watery as he tried his hardest not to sob, soothing himself back down into a calmer but anxiety filled state. Peter took the opportunity to look around the room, gaining the bearing of where he is. After a few moments Peter turned onto his side, making himself small and going to sleep.

~~~~

“Peter, I’ve been your therapist for the last two months, and while we’ve made a lot of progress you’ve still not spoken yet. Is there any reason why?”

Today was a group therapy session, the therapist felt it was important for those to happen twice a month until some major improvements were made in Peter’s mental health. The therapy had been grueling on Peter. For the first few sessions he would only shrug or choose not to respond, but now he seemed to nod of shake his head, pointing at things when he felt was necessary.

Group therapy only ever consisted of Peter, Tony and May, the ones deemed the most ‘affected’ by the situation. (Mainly because May was Peter’s guardian and Tony was like his Dad, so maybe it was more like family therapy sessions rather than group therapy, but they never named themselves a family.

Peter sighed at the question given to him, looking up at the ceiling and moving his head from side to side in consideration. He wanted to speak, wanted to talk again, but it seemed so hard. It seemed nearly impossible. Skip didn’t want him to tell people what happened. And Peter didn’t know how to tell anyone. Suddenly nothing good has happening anymore, and Peter was running out of words. He just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up again.

Peter took a sip of his water.

“No one- no one noticed what happened.” Peter’s voice was rough, felt like he was swallowing sand paper. It crackled and popped, dropping in pitch before rising again. It wasn’t his voice at all, but his voice all the same. “Promised it would never happen again. Then it did, and I was gonna tell May, I swear, I swear, but she wasn’t home, worked a double the second first time it happened. Then it happened the next day, and that was May’s night for an evening shift. And then it happened again and I was supposed to go out with Harley. Then weekend at the compound, and it was a break from everything. I couldn’t tell anyone. No one noticed. Felt like I was dying everyday, and everyone is happy and smiling and not noticing that something was wrong and that I want to die. It was never supposed to happen again, but it kept happening and no one noticed. No one noticed what was happening.”

May burst into tears, wiping her face as she kept apologizing on repeat. Tony held her hand trying to comfort her the best he can. He wiped away a few stray tears of his own, wishing he’d noticed sooner, that he wasn’t so full of himself that it cost Peter so much of his own life. But this wasn’t a pity session for May or Tony, it was about healing the fragmented pieces of Peter’s heart and moving forward from this all again.

“So you believe it’s hard to speak, because no one noticed you were being raped? That no one noticed that you were pulling into yourself? Because no one noticed you hardly ate and didn’t leave your apartment unless necessary.” The therapist said and Peter nodded. “I think you’ve not spoken until now because you didn’t believe you were worth saving, and you believed you deserved what you were getting. You didn’t believe you were worth saving, but now that you were saved, now that you just spoke, Peter I think you’re starting to believe you’re worth saving too.”

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doof-doofblog · 4 years

Text

"You Know Better Than Anyone What You Need!"

Friday 18th December 2020

Hello again everyone! Hope your day is going well so far. Today I'm back with another blog, I feel there may be a hell of a lot to catch up on, but I will get there eventually! I want to thank you all being patient with me, it's crazy how life gets in the way sometimes. Anyway, let's get started with the review of Friday night's episode.

Another brilliant episode I have to say, and again, quite a lot to focus on! Firstly I'm going to start with the fun and happy part of the episode, which was Kim offering to help Honey find a "Bad Santa" for their Community Christmas Meal. From the sounds of it, everyone was willing to help out provide food for the occasion, but when Kim was kind dragged into it by her sister, she decided to take it upon herself to find a suitable Santa. Poor Honey, she didn't have the heart to decline her offer, so to keep Kim and everyone happy she went along with it.

Meanwhile as people are debating whether to audition for the part, Rainie suggests to her husband that it may be something to keep them occupied for the time being, especially since they're on edge and constantly looking behind their shoulders now they know DI Thompson is actually alive. Eventually, Rainie convinces Stuart to audition for the part as Santa! I loved the audition sequence, I personally thought Stuart was a great Santa (That is if he didn't choke on the glitter that Rainie threw all over him!) - I would've gone for him, personally! But Mitch and Billy also took part, poor Billy didn't even get a chance to do anything!! Whereas Mitch was a kind of a smooth talking, slick kind of Santa. But when Isaac decided to pop in, Kim almost give him a choice to audition, and to her and Karen's delight he obliged with a Santa strip tease, (Although I don't think Honey was impressed!) Much to their disappointment, Isaac rejects to being Santa, leaving Denise to persuade Kim to give the role to Mitch!

The second thing I'd like to focus on is Ben and the Panesar's! Since finding out that Suki has CCTV of himself leaving the Queen Vic around the time Ian was attacked, Ben has been very on edge. Even approaching his Dad for help, but it seems Phil couldn't help his son like he was hoping. Ben voices his concerns to Callum and worries that he could be sent to prison again, before Christmas! We know that Ben has sworn not to be Ian's attacker, and I actually do believe him, however the reason why he was at the pub remains to be seen. I am really looking forward to seeing Ben's story of that night revealed! He tells his boyfriend that he can't be sent back to prison and then it seems that he manages to have an idea. He rushes away and eventually he come face to face with Suki and Kheerat. He plays with them at first, saying how awful it would be for someone to be sent to prison for something they didn't do, to then having people he knows on the inside take care of something for him. Interestingly, he drops on the table a file of paperwork it looks like, he leaves the room leaving the Panesar's wondering what he was talking about. It's only when Kheerat looks at the file, that he realises that Ben is actually threatening to attack his brother, Jags, whilst in prison! The file reveals photos of his young brother, Suki all takes a look and it becomes clear to her that the Mitchell's are not ones to be messed with! She quickly grabs hold on the memory stick storing the CCTV footage of Ben and locks it in the safe, Kheerat watching her as she does so! You can see the look on Kheerat's face that he doesn't like the dirty game that his Mother is playing, he fears that she's going to be starting a war between themselves and the Mitchells!

Deep down, I do kind of feel that Kheerat fears his Mother, fears her in the sense that he doesn't want to get on the wrong side of her, she's already shopped one child to the police, what else is she capable of doing?! Also before even Ben enters the room, Suki mentions something along the lines of Kheerat not following orders, the police and Mitchell's wouldn't be bothering them if Kheerat had followed her orders, the big question I want to ask is - What were her orders?! What did she want her son to do?! Interestingly, Kheerat then decides to against his Mother and takes the memory stick from the safe, later on we see him waiting in the park for someone. Ben appears and approaches him and he's instructed to sit with him, Kheerat is adamant to Ben that he's nothing like his Mother, he simply passes him the memory stick with the CCTV on it. However, Ben questions his motives, why would he willingly just give it to him? It seems though that Kheerat wants Jags to be safe, in an attempt to save his brother, he gives up the memory stick, even promising to delete all other footage of Ben which might be stored in the laptop. Once Ben is satisfied, he walks away, putting the memory stick in his pocket. However Kheerat looks as if he's looking a lot more on his laptop and finds something even more interesting, he reaches for his phone and makes a call, informing the person on the other end of the line that they need to meet urgently.

The final moment we see Kheerat, he's sat in the Cafe waiting for someone's arrival. Peter walks in and approaches him, whispering to each other to not make much notice of people surrounding them. It's then that Kheerat turns the laptop around to show Peter what he's found, the only thing we know is that whatever Peter has seen, it must have something to do with him, because he said "He deserved it!" - what has Kheerat got over Peter? What is Peter referring to? Could it be something to do with Ian's attack?!

The final thing I want to talk about is Mick, Linda, Katy and Max. Early on in the episode, Max visits Linda working in the laundrette, instantly he's acting flirtatious, complimenting how beautiful she looks in her work gear. She laughs at his failed flirtatious attempt, but then he informs her that he'll have the whole place to himself that night and wondered whether she'd like pop over during the evening. We know that they clearly have an attraction for one another - however, for Linda, I think it's the feeling of being wanted and being loved, as Mick has showed her no affection in recent weeks or months! - Max informs her that it would be nice to spend the whole evening together, she doesn't respond and watches him leave.

Whilst this is happening, Mick is at home when Katy visits once again, she questions how he's coping and apologises for the way she spoke about his son the previous day. Mick is thankful and accepts her apology, however I do feel that she's still playing with his mind, trying to control him maybe or even twist his thoughts. It's not long until Linda arrives home from and suddenly it's gives us all the big shock that she has finally come face-to-face with Katy, the woman who she has heard so much about in recent weeks! Part of me kind of hopes that over time, if she crosses paths with Katy again, she may be able to see the dark side of Katy and will figure out exactly what's going on with her husband. As they all gather together, Linda and Katy speak of how happy they are to finally meet one another, interestingly, Mick takes it upon himself to shower his wife with praise about being a good Mother and how the family would fall apart if it was without her. You can see that this is what Linda has been missing and how much those words mean to her, more importantly that they're coming from her husband. As she leaves to tidy Ollie's bedroom, Mick continues to compliment his wife, informing Katy that she's his world and how he'd be lost without her, however we can see that in the hallway Linda manages to overhear her husband's words, which leave a little smile on her face.

However, later on, after Katy has left and Mick and Linda are left on their own, Linda takes it upon herself to impress her husband by dressing up in a gorgeous, glamorous, off the shoulder dress. As she enters we can see that Mick is stunned by her beauty, she approaches her husband and thanks him for his kind words. At first Mick is speechless at his wife's appearance and gently they both lean in for a kiss - something which they both haven't done for such a long time, only as they lean in for a second longing kiss, Linda reaches for the waistline of her husband's jeans, desperately wanting to feel intimate with her husband, but he pulls away very suddenly. Linda panics as he pulls away, worrying that it's something she's done wrong, she becomes increasingly devastated by his rejection that she questions whether he still fancies her anymore, but all Mick can muster is "Stay away from me!" - obviously, these words hurt Linda to the very core. She really can't understand her husband right now, one minute he's complimenting her and being very loving and caring towards her, the next he's pushing her away!

As things progress, Mick is seen looking very teary as he stares into space, Linda has taken it upon herself to pack a bag and spend the night away from Mick, as she leaves they both look very teary and devastated that it's come to this. I do think though that deep down, Mick knows exactly where his wife is going, at that kills him inside, but also I think he realises that it's his fault that she's been driven away into another man's arms. Is this also something that he's struggling with? The fact that maybe he's to blame for his marriage failing?! If he would just talk to her, then who knows, things might be different?

Eventually Linda finds herself at Max's, of course! Max is surprised to see her on his doorstep, but as he invites her in, she starts to doubt herself and claims that she shouldn't be there. However Max convinces her to stay, informing her that there's no one else in the house. Again, he compliments her saying how beautiful and sexy she is and only she knows what she really wants and needs right now. Linda looks as if she can't hide her temptation anymore, she walks forward and instantly Max and Linda begin kissing one another. I personally, don't think Linda loves Max, of course she probably likes him as a friend, but the only reason she's doing this is simply because Mick has pushed her away and Max has showed her more affection than her husband has in recent weeks or months! After getting passionate, Max reaches for Linda's hand and leads her up the stairs.

I do feel devastated that this happened to the lovely Carter couple, I honestly never thought anything would come between them. But Mick really needs to start talking and seeking help, or come to terms with everything he's learned and come to realise. It looks as if Mick's mental state and emotional outbursts are tearing the Carter family apart, of course it is all down to Katy and it's so irritating that no one is aware of that yet!! I just hope it won't be too late until they actually realise what's going on in Mick's head! I know this is horrible to say, but I hope the Carter's find out what's wrong with Mick before Tina leaves. THAT would be devastating I fear!

Thank you all so so much for reading, I apologise this post is late. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I've enjoyed writing! Thank you all for your on-going support! I love you all xXx

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whumphoarder · 5 years

Text

Them’s the Breaks

Summary: Peter is home alone and ends up breaking his ankle. Figuring his super healing will fix it overnight, he doesn’t tell anyone and tries to sleep it off, only to wake up in the middle of the night in agony. Cue Tony, saving his ass yet again.

(Alternative title: Super Healing is Not All it’s Cracked Up To Be Tibia)

Word count: 3,174

Genre: Whump, hurt/comfort, fluffy angst

A/N: Thanks to @sallyidss for beta reading!

Link to read on Ao3

Prior to being bitten by a radioactive spider, Peter had broken exactly one bone in his life.

He was eleven. Someone dared him to do a flip on a trampoline at a classmate’s birthday party. The flip itself was mediocre, but the landing was legendary. Blood streamed down Peter’s face from his now crooked, throbbing nose, ruining both his brand new stormtrooper t-shirt and the horrified birthday girl’s pink dress.

Ned—ever the sympathetic friend—had puked on the spot, which hadn’t done wonders for either of their middle school social statuses.

Peter managed to hold it together pretty well for the twenty minutes it had taken Ben to arrive, but the second the car door was shut and they pulled out of the driveway, the façade crumbled. Peter’s shoulders shook and tears ran down his cheeks, stinging his nose, because, as it turned out, broken bones just really hurt. Almost as much as Peter’s pride.

But Ben was there, and Ben always knew how to make Peter feel better. He cracked jokes about his nephew’s failing gymnastics career and tossed wadded up Burger King napkins at the kid’s messy face all the way to urgent care until Peter’s choked sobs turned to quiet giggles.

The doctor reset Peter’s nose and May fussed over him all weekend, making sure he was icing it appropriately. Three weeks later, he was back to normal.

But that was before the bite—before Peter had taken the unofficial job of crime-fighting teenage vigilante.

He’s up to eight bones now, lifetime total. Besides the nose, there were four ribs last summer (for the record, being thrown into brick walls really sucks), his collarbone back in January (missed a web and crashed onto the roof of a parking garage), and two fingers just before spring break (got stomped on by some dude gallivanting about in a rhino costume, what even is his life?). Luckily, super healing came as part of the package, so what had taken Peter’s sixth grade body weeks to repair, he now accomplishes in mere hours.

Today, however, it’s not Spider-Man who injures himself. It’s just Peter Parker, fresh off an evening patrol, wiping out in the goddamn shower.

“Oh shit!” Peter gasps sharply as his feet slide out from under him on the wet surface. His hand flies out on reflex and grasps the shower curtain, which he pulls down on top of him. As he slams onto the floor of the tub, his ankle rolls sideways underneath him. A split-second later, the metal curtain rod hits him in the face.

“...Rude…” he groans.

Water is still streaming down from the shower, splashing onto the sheet of vinyl now covering Peter’s body. He pulls the curtain off himself with another groan and gingerly pushes himself up to sitting. Half-blind from the shampoo running into his eyes, he reaches up over his head and fumbles for the shower handle. The water stops.

Peter makes to stand, but a sudden jolt of pain just above his ankle stops him. With a grunt, he lets himself fall back against the tub, teeth clenched.

Oh yeah, he’s never gonna live this one down.

It’s not his most graceful moment, but somehow Peter manages to extricate himself from the tub. Thankfully May is out of town this weekend so no one is around to hear the crashes and muffled curses issuing from the bathroom. He quickly dries off and pulls on some clean sweat pants and a t-shirt before hopping on his left leg to retrieve a bag of frozen peas from the kitchen. Once back in his bedroom, he carefully props the already-swelling ankle up on pillows and rests his makeshift ice pack on top.

It’s times like these when Peter curses his mutated spider metabolism for burning through normal painkillers so fast that Tylenol and ibuprofen are about as effective as Skittles. Tony has better drugs at the compound—the kind that actually work on him—but Peter isn’t too keen on explaining to his mentor how someone who’d stopped a runaway car with his bare hands and walked away without a scratch a few hours ago was no match for his own bathroom.

Plus, it’s really not that bad. He can deal. He’ll just sleep it off and everything will be fine by the morning.

Peter wakes to nauseating pain.

It takes him a moment to orient himself. He’s lying on his bed in a tangle of covers, a deep, pulsing ache radiating from his right ankle. He flaps his hand around under his pillow until he locates his phone and lifts it to his face to check the time. It’s 1:13 a.m.

God, this sucks.

When Peter pushes himself up to sitting, he can’t help but let out a muffled cry as a fresh wave of agony shoots through his leg all the way to the hip. It’s healing—he swears he can actually feel the bone knitting itself back together under his skin—but something about it feels different. Wrong.

Flipping on the bedside lamp, he pulls his covers off his aching foot and instantly gasps at the sight. It’s purple with bruises and swollen to double its usual size. On the side, right where the ache is deepest, the bone is jutting out at a weird angle and his stomach rolls at the sight. When he tries to move his foot slightly, searing pain nearly makes him lose his dinner.

This isn’t right. None of his past breaks have ever hurt this much. He can’t do this anymore—he needs help.

Fingers trembling, he types out his message: Mr. Stark? Are you awake?

It’s about thirty seconds before Peter sees the three dots indicating that Tony is typing: Haven’t slept since the 90s, kid. Why?

Peter steels himself with a deep breath as another pulse of pain stabs his ankle. He types out and backspaces a few different variations of his confession, ranging from ‘I fucked up my ankle and it’s killing me pls send help’ to ‘Nothing, just couldn’t sleep, sorry’ before finally settling on a vague version of the truth:

I might have done something dumb

Within five seconds of sending the text, Peter’s phone starts ringing, startling him. His fingers fumble to accept the call. When he speaks, his voice comes out more like a squeak than anything else. “Yeah?”

Tony cuts right to the chase. “How dumb are we talking here?” he asks briskly. “Because my lawyers generally appreciate a heads up.”

“No, it’s not that kind of dumb,” Peter manages to grit out through the pain. “It’s um… it’s just…” he trails off, not sure quite how to word this.

“It’s one in the morning. Just spit it out,” Tony prompts.

Tears are pricking at the corners of Peter’s eyes now, the ache somehow finding a way to become even deeper. “I-I got hurt,” he manages to say.

Tony’s tone instantly sobers. “Where? How bad?”

“No no, it’s not that bad,” Peter says quickly. “I just messed up my ankle or something. I thought I could just sleep it off and my healing would fix it, but it’s like”—he takes a shuddery inhale—“It just… it just really hurts, Mr. Stark.” He wants to cry; he feels absolutely pathetic.

Tony curses under his breath and Peter hears a lot of movement from the other end of the line. “Why didn’t I get any alerts from Karen on this?” he demands. “Because I put all those safety features in your suit for a reason and if I find out you coerced that Ned buddy of yours into disabling yet another layer of security, I swear to god, Pete—”

“I didn’t, I promise,” Peter interrupts. “Karen doesn’t know because it didn’t happen on patrol.”

“How did it happen then?”

“I just… kinda fell?”

“You fell?” Tony questions, confusion in his voice. “Fell where?”

Peter’s face flushes. “You know what, I-I’ll be okay,” he says. “I’m sorry to bother you, it’ll be fine in the morning, just—” Another pulse of pain shoots daggers up his right leg and his breath hitches.

“I’m already on my way,” Tony says, and Peter can hear the sound of wind rushing over the line now. “ETA, thirteen minutes.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to come out here!” Peter protests. “I just need some of those painkillers that you and Dr. Banner made. I dunno, maybe you could just send a couple over in one of your suits...?”

“Cute,” Tony remarks. “It’s adorable how you think I’m gonna let a fifteen-year-old dose out a drug strong enough to knock the Winter Soldier on his ass.”

“I’m sixteen now,” Peter argues. “Sixteen and a half, actually.”

“Equally adorable how you think stating your age in fractions helps your case,” Tony quips. “Listen, just hold tight, kid—I’ll be there soon.”

Peter sighs as the call disconnects.

Eleven minutes later, Tony arrives at the apartment and lets himself in with the spare key May had given him when it became apparent Peter's internship was more than just a run-of-the-mill semester-long program. He pauses in the doorway of Peter’s messy room to gaze at the miserable teenager sprawled out on the bed.

“Jesus, kid,” Tony swears quietly.

Peter gives a small wave. “Hey,” he mumbles. The nausea is back and he’s sweating slightly now. “Did you bring the drugs?”

“I did,” Tony says, his gaze narrowing as he steps closer to the bed, “but given that your ankle is currently resembling Violet Beauregarde’s, you’re not getting any until FRIDAY does her thing.”

Peter huffs, but he’s in too much pain to come up with anything witty to say. He holds still as Tony taps twice at the nanotech armor’s housing unit on his chest. A light appears and quickly scans over Peter’s body from head to toe.

After a moment, the light disappears again. “Scan complete, boss,” FRIDAY reports. “Partially healed misaligned fracture detected in the lower right tibia.”

“I broke my leg?” Peter balks. “I thought it was the ankle?”

“Your ankle is made up of three bones,” Tony explains. He pulls out his phone and starts typing something as he goes on. “Tibia, fibula…”—he pauses and glances up, frowning—“and that one that doesn’t rhyme.”

“The talus, boss,” FRIDAY supplies.

Diverting his attention back to the phone screen, Tony gives a short nod of acknowledgment. “Yeah, that one.”

“Oh.” Peter glances down awkwardly. “Um, I’m gonna take anatomy next semester.”

Tony hums absently. He finishes tapping out whatever message he’s been sending and pockets the device again. “In the meantime, I’m sure Bruce can tell you more fun bone facts when we get to Medbay.”

“Whoa, wait, what do you mean Medbay?” Peter demands, a fresh wave of panic and guilt crashing over him. “All I need is some meds so I can sleep through the worst of it and I’ll be fine,” he insists.

Tony huffs. “Your knowledge of anatomy might be lacking, but last time I checked you were getting an A in English so you should know that ‘misaligned’ isn’t a word you want connected to ‘fracture’. It’s healing wrong. You need x-rays. And a real doctor.”

With a groan, Peter drapes his arm dramatically over his face. “Great. Even my super healing is against me.”

“Not to mention you still haven’t told me how you fell,” Tony continues with a pointed look, “so if you’re trying to hide some other injury, or a vertigo thing, or—”

“I’m not,” Peter mumbles into the crook of his elbow. With a sigh, he lowers the arm from his face and looks miserably up at his mentor. “I just slipped in the stupid shower.”

To Tony’s credit, he doesn’t laugh.

(Even though his lips do twitch.)

Instead, he steps out of the bedroom and returns a moment later with a cup of water, which he hands to the kid along with two of the super strength painkillers from the orange pill bottle in his pocket. Peter downs them gratefully.

“Your aunt’s got her car here, right?” Tony checks.

Peter nods. “She took an Uber to the airport. Won’t be back until late Sunday. Conference for work.”

“Think she’d mind if we use it as a makeshift ambulance?”

Peter just shrugs.

“Alright then.” Tony presses the housing unit again and this time the armor encases his whole body. “Now I’m gonna pick you up and carry you down to the parking lot, and you’re not gonna make a big deal about it. Capisce?”

Peter suppresses a groan of embarrassment as he’s gathered carefully into Tony’s arms. Maybe next time he wipes out in the shower, he’ll get lucky and just drown.

The painkillers are strong and Peter ends up sleeping through most of the two-hour drive back to the compound. By the time they pull into the parking garage—May’s little dented Ford Focus looking positively ridiculous next to Tony’s array of expensive sports cars—it’s nearly four in the morning.

Bruce is waiting for them with a wheelchair, which Peter instantly balks at using.

“I don’t need that—I can totally walk,” he protests.

Bruce gives him a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, that’s not a good idea. Judging by the scans FRIDAY sent ahead for me, your bone rotated as it healed—that’s why it looks so deformed right now. Walking on it is only going to cause further problems.”

“You heard the man,” Tony says, gesturing to the chair. He smirks. “Unless you'd prefer me to get the suit on again.”

With a groan, Peter transfers himself into the chair. His ankle really does feel better now. The swelling is down and the pain only flares up when he jostles it too much—he can tell the bone has mostly knit itself back together.

Once back in Medbay, they’re joined by another doctor—someone from SHIELD called Helen Cho who Peter has never met before. She does some x-rays and an MRI while Peter half-dozes, still foggy from the medication.

When the scans are complete, he’s transferred back to a hospital bed while the two doctors talk over the results with him and Tony. Peter tries to pay attention but he’s still groggy and exhausted, so the medical jargon sounds more like irritating droning than actual words. Then all of a sudden, the three of them start throwing around words like ‘rebreaking’ and ‘inserting pins’ and ‘realignment surgery’ and Peter snaps right out of his haze.

“Whoa, whoa, what do you mean surgery?” Peter demands. “It’s fine, oh my god.”

Dr. Cho gives him a half-smile. “Look here, Peter.” She holds up the x-ray and points to the bulge on the side of Peter’s ankle. “This malunion is going to significantly reduce your mobility, as well as potentially cause chronic pain. Given your”—she pauses for a moment—“unusually active lifestyle, I would highly suggest surgical correction sooner rather than later.”

And that’s how, several hours later, Peter finds himself lying on a bed in a pre-op room at SHIELD Medical, waiting for some surgeons to take a bone-saw to his freshly healed right leg.

“How you feeling, kiddo?” Tony asks, plopping himself down in an armchair beside the bed.

“Really stupid,” Peter answers honestly. He gazes down at the deformed bones in his ankle. “All this from falling in the shower.”

Tony huffs out a laugh. “Eh, this shit happens. One time in college, I threw my back out during a ping-pong match with Rhodey.”

Peter’s eyes widen. “Seriously?”

Tony nods. “Bodies are dumb. Even enhanced ones—did you know Steve once sneezed so hard he dislocated a rib?”

Peter gives him a skeptical look. “Now you’re joking.”

“Cross my heart,” Tony chuckles. “Then Thor clapped him on the back and popped it back in.”

Peter opens his mouth to express his disbelief at this information, but before he can do so, a nurse dressed in light blue scrubs comes in to take him to the OR. A fresh wave of anxiety comes over Peter and he shoots his mentor a pleading look.

“You’re really sure this is necessary?” Peter tries one last time.

Tony gives his shoulder a squeeze. “You’ll be fine,” he assures. “As soon as you’re healed up, I’ll teach you some sweet ping-pong moves.”

Peter smirks. “Maybe I should get Rhodey to show me so I don’t throw out my back.”

“Nah, you don’t want him either,” Tony says, waving his hand dismissively. “I might have thrown out my back, but he ended up with a concussion.”

Peter blinks at him. “What kind of ping-pong games did you play?”

Tony locks eyes with him. “Ball is life, kid.”

The surgery itself goes as well as can be expected. Peter wakes up groggy and disoriented, with three new metal pins inside his ankle and a bright red cast around the outside. Bruce feeds him ice chips, and Tony video calls May from his Starkpad so she can fuss over her nephew a bit from Denver. Peter silently marvels at how this ridiculous life he leads has somehow brought him to the point where Iron Man and the Hulk are functioning as his postoperative caretakers.

Then his thoughts are derailed when he suddenly throws up bile all over the bedsheets and Tony’s tablet.

“It’s okay, Peter,” Bruce assures the thoroughly humiliated boy—who is now clutching a pink plastic basin to his chest as if his life depends on it—as he helps the nurse to strip the bed. “Nausea is a really common side effect of the anesthesia, and especially considering how much you had to be under for your metabolism, this is to be expected.”

Standing off to the side, wiping the tablet down with disposable disinfectant wipes, Tony huffs. “I mean if you knew that, Bruce, you could have warned me…”

Whether the antiemetics the doctors give Peter do their job or simply knock him out through the worst of the nausea, Peter will never know. But when he wakes again a few hours later, life is significantly better.

He’s released from Medical the next morning and Tony brings him back to the compound to finish recovering in his own room. The cast comes off Sunday morning and Peter’s good as new.

Late Sunday afternoon, Tony drops Peter back off at his apartment—Happy tailing along behind in a much shinier, undented, and heavily upgraded Ford Focus—and thanks May for loaning him her vehicle before asking permission to use their restroom.

Emerging from the bathroom a few minutes later, Tony ruffles Peter’s hair and tells the kid to take it easy before driving off again.

When Peter goes to take a shower later that night, he finds the floor of the tub covered in adhesive non-slip rubber duck decals.

(Yeah, Peter’s never gonna live this one down.)

Fic Masterlist

For more Tony helping Peter out sticky of situations, try:

You Broke Tony

The Five Times Peter Denies an Illness or Injury + the One Time He Doesn’t

#peter parker whump #spider-man fic #hurt peter parker #irondad fic #spiderman #surgery #my fic

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ofsinnersandsaints · 5 years

Text

won’t be lonely long

rating: E word count: 3015 one shot

AO3

Frank shows up at Karen's hotel room, and well---what else are two people supposed to do alone together in a cheap hotel room but go down on each other?

Karen walked into her hotel room, cellphone between her ear and shoulder while the phone rang over and over.

“God damnit,” she bit out, throwing the phone on the desk when the call went to voicemail.

“If that’s me you’re trying to call, I lost my phone.”

She jumped at the low voice coming from the dark shadows of the sitting area, but fear immediately turned to anger because she recognized that voice. “Jesus, Frank.”

“Sorry,” but he chuckled when he said it so he didn’t sound particularly apologetic.

“What are you doing here? The cops are looking for you.”

“The cops are always looking for me,” he reminded her, which didn’t particularly help.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, turning on a floor lamp as she walked towards where he sat on the hotel couch. If he got blood on the cushions she might kill him herself.

“No, just exhausted.”

Karen didn’t believe him and sat down next to Frank to get a better look. “How did you find me? I’ve been under police protection for a week.”

“Followed you the other day,” he admitted as she ran her hands over his arm and chest. When her fingers moved over his heart he stopped it, putting his palm on top of her hand. “I almost lost you, too. You drive like a maniac.”

She allowed a small smile, her heart beating a little crazy in her ribs at the feel of her hand sandwiched between the warmth of his palm and the hardness of his chest. “I learned evasion driving.”

He made a sound, like he was amused, and settled more heavily against the back of the couch.

“What’s going on, Frank?”

“Just a little misunderstanding between myself and a couple of fellas. When is your buddy Brett going to realize I’m not one of the bad guys?”

Karen sighed, because she was constantly surrounded by idiots. “About the time you stop wearing a skull on your chest.”

“I’m not wearing it tonight,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, remind me to scold you later for not wearing Kevlar when you’re going to pick fights with people who have guns.”

He grinned and she realized she’d slipped. “You keeping track of me, Miss Page?”

“I’m a reporter, Frank,” she said, which wasn’t an answer and they both knew it. “I learn things whether I want to or not.”

His hand rubbed hers, an absent, almost affectionate gesture. “It’s okay, you don’t have to admit you care about me.”

“Of course I care about you, Frank.”

“Yeah?” he looked briefly pleased before closing his eyes. “That’s cool.”

Karen sputtered out a laugh, not sure if she’d ever heard that exact phrase from Frank Castle before. “Do you need me to take you somewhere?”

“Only if you’re kicking me out,” he answered, his voice casual and warm in the limited light of the impersonal hotel room. “You know, I think it’s been a couple of decades since I’ve been in a cheap hotel on a Saturday night.”

Karen chuckled at the admission. “You need to get a life, Frank.”

“That’s probably true.” This time when his hand moved, he threaded his fingers through hers so when she looked down there was a pattern which caused a weird reaction somewhere in her stomach.

His finger, her finger, his, hers, his, hers.

Theirs.

“Karen?”

She pulled her attention back to the moment, “What?”

“I asked when the last time you got frisky in a hotel room was. There had to have been some jock football player who tried to get to second base after prom.”

With a laugh, Karen ran her free hand through her hair. “You have some weird concept of who I was as a teenager.”

“You weren’t head cheerleader dating the captain of the football team?”

“Do you really think that girl would be in a hotel room with the Punisher? Who, for reasons not yet explained, is hiding from the cops in a room protected by cops.”

“Not very good, are they? If I could get in.”

A light went on in her head; therein lied the actual reason Frank was in her hotel room at midnight. She’d been poking a bear with her latest investigation and someone had tried to hurt her so the police agreed to protection. Naturally, Frank thought he could do a better job of protecting her than the cops, and honestly, nothing in their history proved him wrong.

“I’d have tried it, though.”

Karen looked at him, head tilted. “You’d have tried what?”

“To get you to a hotel after prom.”

Karen titled her head tried to picture a young Frank and a young Karen and couldn’t even imagine it. “I can’t see it.”

“Can’t see what?”

“You trying to get your hand up my skirts.”

“Weird, because I think about it regularly.” He looked briefly confused, “Wait, I thought second base was above the waist? Third was below.”

She heard the question but didn’t register them because she was stuck on the first part. “You think about putting your hands up my skirt?”

He opened his mouth and seemed to realize what he’d said and, probably realizing he couldn’t take it back, shrugged his shoulders. “I think about a lot of things a gentleman probably shouldn’t admit to.”

“Good thing you’re not a gentleman.”

Frank barked out a laugh, his hand running down her forearm and back up to her wrist. She could feel his callouses, rough on her skin, and goosebumps followed in their wake. “Fair enough.”

Suddenly she couldn’t think about anything else. Hadn’t she spent the last few nights in a very lonely bed wishing someone had been with her? That he’d been there with her? “Tell me what you think about Frank.”

He turned to look at her, his eyes quietly studying her as if to gauge her seriousness. After a few heavy moments she confessed, “I think about you in your office.”

Karen laughed because it was the last thing she would have thought he’d say. “My office?”

“I’ve never actually seen it,” he admitted and his other hand began toying with the hem of her dress. “But I picture you with your hair up, sitting behind the desk, completely naked.”

“My seat is leather and that would hurt getting up,” she pointed out even as she realized she would never be ever to sit in her chair again without thinking of him, picturing her naked.

“It’s a fantasy,” Frank reminded her. “Sometimes I think about you getting yourself off, naturally I figure you’re thinking about me.”

“Vibrator or my fingers?” she asked, heartbeat thrumming in her ears as she asked.

“Both, either. I just think there’s something incredibly sexy about a woman getting her own pleasure.”

Karen wondered at how casual the conversation was, even as she knew she was getting wet between her legs. They’d never even kissed, and he was admitting to having sexual fantasies about her like he was talking about the traffic.

“It felt weird to bring my vibrator with me,” she finally said, watching his face carefully, but it was his hand which gave him away. His fingers tightened on her thighs almost imperceptibly, but he kept his eyes steady on hers. “So I had to leave it had home.”

“You’ve been here three days?”

“And I can’t get myself with just my hands,” she admitted knowing Frank’s reaction, whatever it was, would dramatically change their dichotomy. “So it’s been a frustrating couple of days.”

“Not even if someone walks you through it?” he asked, his voice low as his fingers danced back and forth on her leg.

“Like phone sex?”

“Or just really filthy, dirty talk while someone watches.”

“No,” and Karen could feel herself blush. She’d always considered herself a reasonably experienced woman, but there were times she remembered she grew up in a small town, and her own personal traumas had stunted the experimentation so many women in their 20s went through. “Nothing like that.”

Frank got up and picked up the small armchair, moving it to face the couch. And her.

She wasn’t an idiot, she knew what he was asking without him having to use the words. But she needed them, “You want to watch me masturbate?”

“Fuck, yes.” He watched her carefully. “But I can leave if you’d rather.”

Karen shook her head. “Tell me what to do.”

Frank’s eyes went hot, and she saw the muscles in his jaw tighten before he put his hands on his knees, his knuckles almost white.

“Take off your clothes, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Are you going to take off your clothes?” she asked as she removed her shoes.

“I can, if you want me to.”

“Your shirt,” she requested as she stood up, and by the time she’d pulled her dress up and over her head he was already naked from the waist up.

Karen wanted to touch him, to run her fingers along all that skin. How many times had she been held by those arms? Protected by that chest? Just once she wanted to experience that, skin to skin.

“That’s a hell of a way to look at a man, Karen.” She realized she was biting her lip, her gaze probably unfiltered hunger because that’s what she felt in every pore of her body. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking about putting my hands on you,” she admitted. “About all the times your body has been on top of mine and how we’ve never been naked while you did.”

“What a shame,” he murmured, his eyes skating over her bare skin. “When was the last time you got yourself off?”

“The night before I came here.”

She watched him put the pieces together, her hands absently running up and over thighs. “I was at your apartment that night.”

“Covered in bruises, knuckles bloody,” she remembered. “You left and I immediately took off my clothes and got my vibrator out.”

“You liked that?”

Karen shrugged, trying for nonchalant but likely not achieving it. “There’s something very primitive and Cro-Magnon about it. Strong protector, brave defender, and I’ve seen what you can do with you body. One good thought turns to another.”

“Tell me what you thought about, what you did.”

Karen watched him palm himself through his pants, and that alone was sexier than almost anything she’d ever seen before. “I thought about you pressing me against the wall. I was wearing some ratty pajamas, but in my head I was wearing a silk nightie and you tore it off me.”

“Touch yourself, Karen. Over your panties.”

She did as told, putting her hand over mound and pressed her fingers against herself. The pressure was lovely but not enough to do anything but tease. “In your dirty little fantasy do I fuck you against the wall?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me,” he demanded and the low growl of his voice was enough to get her dripping.

“You always finger me,” she answered, her free hand coming up to push her bra cup aside so she could touch her breasts. “Get me begging. I use my fingers at first to get myself wet, but I always think how much better they’d be if they were yours.”

“Do it, sweetheart. Put your hand in your underwear and finger yourself,” she did as he directed. “Are you wet?”

“Yes.”

“How wet?”

“You could slide into me without a problem,” she answered, pinching her nipple hard enough she made an aroused little sound in the back of her throat. “How many fingers, Frank?”

“One to start, use your thumb on your clit but tease yourself first. Just like that.”

Her underwear restricted her movement but it was kind of hot to have her hand trapped against her pussy while Frank watched with dark, heated eyes. When she started humping her hand he cursed low in his throat. “Christ, Karen. Spread your legs.”

She didn’t need to be told twice, shifting on the couch so her legs were spread wide, her hand still working her breast.

“Another finger, Karen. Tell me how I fuck you.”

Karen added a finger, the stretch an erotic sensation. “My legs around your waist, my back against the wall. I always pictured you as a quiet man, if I knew you talked like this I would have run the battery out on my vibrator three times over.”

“And if I knew you’d look better than my fantasies, I’d never let you leave you my sight.” Karen fingered herself, and wished she had another hand so she could touch both of her breasts at one time. She could feel the pressure building inside her and the way Frank was working himself through his jeans should have been enough to make her come.

But not yet. Almost, but not yet.

“I want to see your pussy, Karen. Please take off the panties.”

She didn’t want to stop. “Can you?”

“Fuck yes,” he moved quickly across the room and while she continued to touch herself he reached out to pull the underwear off her hips and down her legs. “Christ, you’re so fucking sexy.”

“Frank, I can’t-“ she wanted to cry because she knew she was so close but she couldn’t do it, couldn’t get herself up and over the edge. “Please, Frank.”

He was already on his knees between her legs, staring at her fingers. “Move your hand, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

She stopped touching herself, Frank grabbing her hand and putting her slick fingers into his mouth; his tongue working over the pads, the crease between one finger and the next.

“More,” he said, and put his mouth on her pussy.

Karen almost let out a cry, something which would have made the cops nearby come to her door to make sure she was alright, that is if they didn’t bother breaking down the door first, but she clapped her hand over her mouth.

“Are you loud?” Frank asked, his eyes steady on hers.

“Yes,” she admitted on a low groan when the flat of his tongue licked her slit. “Jesus, Frank.”

“You’re going to have to be quiet, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the inside of her leg. “Otherwise I’m going to have to stop, and you don’t want that, do you?”

“No.”

“Neither do I,” he murmured and she could feel the vibration of the words against her skin. “Do you need to be gagged?”

Karen gripped the cushions of the couch, her knuckles going white at the idea, but she shook her head. “I’ll be quiet,” she promised.

“Good girl,” and then he was kissing her again. His lips sucked on clit, the sensation so wildly arousing she let out a sharp cry and Frank stopped. “Karen.”

She heard the warning in his voice, pressed her lips together and tried to keep silent but he was using his tongue to lick her, as if he was trying to taste of every bit of her arousal. She’d never felt so wanted in her life.

Like he was drowning in her and didn’t care if he lived.

Karen reached out to grip her hands in his hair, but it was too short and she couldn’t get a hold on the short strands. Frustrated, she gyrated against his mouth, trying to get more.

“Greedy little thing,” he commented between fucks with his tongue. It wasn’t enough to allow her to come, but it was increasing the excruciating pleasure she felt throughout her entire body. The pressure built and built with each nip of his teeth and swipe of his tongue.

When she came, there was no way she would be able to be quiet.

“Frank,” she whined. “I’m going to come.”

“You make the sexiest noises, Karen. I can’t wait to get you somewhere, anywhere, where I can hear you make those noises as loud as you want. I want to hear you scream for me.”

Karen let go of the cushion and fumbled for his free hand, bringing it up to her mouth to cover her lips.

Frank pulled away from her cunt, his lips and chin wet; his grin was wicked and cocksure and she wanted to kiss it but his fingers were slipping past her lips and pressing against her tongue. It almost felt like choking, like taking him into her mouth, and when she groaned the sound was lost on his fingers.

“That’s right,” he encouraged. “I love feeling those sounds on my fingers. Let’s see how good I can make you feel.”

He slid a finger from his other hand deep inside her and her hips rose off the cushion and the picture they made; her body arched off the couch, one of his hands in her mouth, the other in her pussy, was the most erotic image she’d ever thought of.

She came hard and long, her entire body going stiff and then soft beneath him.

He massaged her through the orgasm, and when she could finally focus on him, his face was something she would call awe if she didn’t know better. “I would fuck you right now if I had a condom,” he promised. “Long and hard. I’d make you come at least two more times.”

Karen let herself image it for a second; Frank naked, his smooth muscles on top of hers, thick and hard inside her. Next time, she promised herself, they’d find some place in the woods where she could be as loud as she wanted as he fucked through one orgasm after another.

Until then…

“Don’t worry,” she said, taking the hand which had been in her mouth and kissing the palm. “There’s more than one way to finish the night.”

“How’s that?”

She leaned forward and kissed him. “Let’s trade places.”

Frank looked briefly stunned. “You don’t-“

Karen was already shaking her head. “I want to. Let me show you how good you made me feel.”

“How can I say no?”

Her grin was feral and he returned it in equal measure. “I was hoping you would say that.”

#kastle #kastleff #kastlesmutweek #kastlenetwork #ksw: satisfying saturday

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salty-donut-collecter · 5 years

Text

Why Not?

Part Twenty-Five

Twenty-Four {Masterlist} Twenty-Six

Chapter Word Count: 1197

Trigger Warnings: Negativity, panic attacks, possibly mentions of flashbacks and huge arguments and such

Please tell me if I need to tag anything else :)

*Also, I’m planning on having this story as a slow burn, so please be prepared :)

Prompts: “Do I look like I give a fuck?”, “I don’t know what I’m feeling, but I’m feeling a lot of it.”, and “Not to dictate your life, but drop your shitty friends.”

A/N: Happy reading! (Also, feel free to comment your thoughts! I love reading comments :))

Also, if you’d like to be added to the tags list, please let me know! :D

_____________________________________________________

An intense feeling of happiness was, unfortunately, rare for you, so this felt like a moment of pure ecstasy. A bonus was that you'd also managed to bring all of your stuff along with you.

However, you couldn't stay in the compound. In fact, unless someone was willing to hide you, you probably couldn't stay anywhere for long. You had no doubt that Tony would track you. The real question is whether or not he'd trust the rest of the team to tell them where you are.

It took a few minutes, but you soon had a destination in mind, and you were quickly imagining it.

Now getting there took a little longer (probably because you were pretty sure you weren't on the verge of immense amounts of pain), but you were in Amsterdam in a matter of seconds.

Although, much to your rapidly beating heart's surprise, you were also in the middle of a busy street.

You dodged a car, jumping onto the pavement, where you almost got run over by a fucking cyclist. This was scary and all, but it got ten times worse when you almost got run over by another fucking cyclist.

Ugh, and to think not that long ago you'd come back home to think this would be a nice week with the family. Oh, how the times change.

With a short sigh, you look around you, realizing this... wasn't where you really wanted to be. Where you wanted to be was home, but then again, you weren't really sure where that was anymore. Were you supposed to consider HYDRA home? Your house back in Brooklyn? The Avengers tower?

The questions were jumbled-- jumbled to the point where it was starting to get to you. It was... confusing, to say the least. Focussing on it made you dizzy.

So, you closed your eyes and focused on a place that felt as close to a home as you would be welcome in right now.

...

.....

....

...

When you opened your eyes, you smiled, happy to find yourself in Nelson and Murdock (Attorney at Law) 's office. You knew that here, out of anywhere, you'd be welcomed with open arms. You were also happy to admit you could get past Matt, the human lie detector, without him calling you out on your bullshit. (At least so far, anyway.)

You were glad to see that they were also there. Karen and Foggy looked a little shocked by your presence, but Matt was smiling.

"Y/n," he smiled, "it's good to see you again." he joked, a hand coming to greet you. Apparently, they hadn't really been working.

Well no, they'd been arguing, but that didn't matter. They usually tried not to argue in front of you anyway.

With that, you smiled, "Nice to hear you too, Matt." you joked in reply. He laughed and shook his head.

"It's always jokes with you, huh?" He chuckled again.

"Lmao they're funny so why not spread some smiles, right?" You blushed, glad he couldn't see it. He could probably feel the microscopic raise in temperature though.

"Y/n, why're you here exactly?" Foggy asked, looking at your arm skeptically. You must've gotten scrapes from almost getting run over five-billion times.

You gave him an equally skeptical look, "Since when is it illegal to visit old friends?" You asked, still trying to maintain you usually chill composure. Never once have they had to chew you out before. And since it looks like they were just in the middle of a grand argument, you didn't want this time to be the first.

Looks like fate didn't want to give you what you wanted.

"I can taste the fact that you have scrapes all over your arms, Y/n." Matt chuckled, probably trying to seem chill so you'd open up.

Your smile kind of faded as you looked at your arm, and you sighed, wondering if you should even bother talking to them.

See, the problem with your relationship with this small team, was that you usually liked to get away from your problems with them, not talk about them and try to figure them out and all that. Yeah no. That's not something you really did with anyone. (Except occasionally Peter or Pietro, because they know the best places in the city.)

So, you sighed, and with a heavy heart, spoke.

"I... I've gotta go..." You start to concentrate on a new destination, "But if anyone asks, you never saw me. You didn't even know I was missing."

There was chatter. They asked you questions. They even tried to hold onto you. It didn't matter though, they were all gone soon. You'd disappeared.

Monster.

You were in... Jessica Jones's office....

"Uhh..." You frowned, "I didn't mean to come here... How's she going to help me?" You asked yourself, "I doubt she remembers me, so that means she'll probably kill me so I--"

"Well you're right about one thing," Someone spoke up from behind you, "I don't remember you," She was holding a beer bottle, and she didn't look alarmed in the slightest.

"Cool power ya got there. Can you use it to get out of my apartment?" She asked, sounding less harsh than you'd thought she would.

The two of you had only met once, but it was long enough for you to have read her brain by the time you two parted ways. What you got from her was that she was a good person, but she didn't do good things because they didn't work for her. She didn't want to spend her life being endlessly disappointed by the faulty methods Matt or Ironfist may use, so she created her own, sort of legal way to go. Some would call her a bad person, some would call her a misguided saint. Either way, at the core of everything, she strived to realistically help people where she could, so she did.

You smiled at Jessica, trying your best not to feel sad about your situation. The last thing you needed was a pity party. Thankfully, Jessica was not one to pity people. Maybe she as the type of person you needed right now.

"Theoretically, yes." You answered, "But I came here without intending to, so I'm not really sure if I can. Y'know?" You shrugged, turning to fully face Jessica.

Jessica sniffed, taking a swig of her beer, "Sure, sure..." she frowned, looking at her beer, "This brand is shittier than I remember." she sighed, taking another swing anyways.

"That's why whiskey's better." you said, "It's stronger too, so you don't have to drink as much if you don't want to." You shrugged.

Jessica squinted at you, "Aren't you a little young for whiskey?" she asked.

You smiled and chuckled, "Did your youth stop you?" you asked.

She nodded, "Point taken."

After a moment of silence, you clear your throat, checking the time once more before turning your phone completely off so the Avengers have a harder time tracking you.

Another moment went by, and you sighed, a sheepish smile coming to your face.

"So... it's getting late--"

"Beat it, kid."

"Great, I'll take the couch."

...

_____

Taglist: @introvertedsin @galacticalstarcat @acidrain707

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trueloveforeverbeautyandthebeast · 6 years

Text

Deborah Ann Woll on ‘Daredevil’ Season 3 and Karen Page’s Dark, Violent Past

Deborah Ann Woll discusses Karen Page’s reaction to Matt Murdock’s death, finding her place as an investigative journalist, why she’s “fucking terrified” of Wilson Fisk’s return to New York, why Marvel Netflix characters can no longer get coffee, and much more.

Question: We heard that your new costuming makes you look “fucking fierce.”

DEBORAH ANN WOLL: Oh, yeah? Well, cool. I guess so? I thought the old look was really fucking fierce! I had this big thing that I think we start to take things that were traditionally feminine and label them as weak and I just didn’t want to be a party to that. I wanted it to feel like, “Hey, you can kick ass whether you’re in pants or a skirt.” My big thing was I wanted her to be tough and fierce and amazing no matter what she’s wearing.

What can you tell us about Karen this season, what’s going on with her?

WOLL: Oh boy. Well, obviously, people will remember from The Defenders, as far as Foggy and I are concerned, Matt’s dead. So that’s kind of the first half of the season, dealing with the grief of that. Or do you believe it or not, the denial of it. And then do you keep fighting? Do you take on this fight that you think killed your friend and keep pushing on? Of course Karen will never let go. It’s really digging into the investigative journalist profession that I found myself in after last season. Wilson Fisk is back, which is very exciting. We have two new characters who are amazing. I think for me, the most fun has been that we really start to open up Karen’s past and a lot of the mysteries, the hints that have been dropped and we haven’t really filled those in. They’ve done an amazing job. I could not have asked for a better backstory. We had two different showrunners. So they had to take all the little hints and pieces that other people laid for them and then create something that they thought worked well. I was so thrilled with what they came up with.

One of my favorite things ever from Karen is when she had to kill to survive in season one, is that something that’s going to be explored?

WOLL: Yeah, we’ll definitely learn a little bit more about why those were her instincts instead of something else, like what would have maybe been better, like just pointing a gun at him and calling the cops. We will get a sense of why shooting someone and covering it up is a bit more in her wheelhouse. We get a little bit of that. For me, through the different showrunners and all the different backstories that I heard, the main thread that I asked every single showrunner along the way was like, “Please don’t say I shot someone to save a busload of kids.” I want whatever happened to be something that was my fault. That this isn’t a story about misplaced guilt, this is a story about forgiveness and acceptance. That I did something really wrong and the rest of my life has been about atoning for it. Every story that I wrote about justice and truth and about opening your mind to different types like Frank Castle or Daredevil, it’s all about, “How do I make up for the awful things that I have done by being the most light and the most truthful and the most helpful I can be?” All of that drive in her is derived from something.

One of the chestnuts of being a journalist is “Don’t become the story,” but so much happens to Karen, do you think she’s ever worried?

WOLL: It’s almost like unwittingly I do it on purpose? Because I don’t want to let go, like, “You can’t do the story, it’s my story. I’m the only one who can…” That’s a bit of the weakness in it, is I can’t let it go. I don’t trust anyone else to do it right. Someone else might be biased or influenced by Fisk, it’s hard to know who to trust. So I think Karen’s weakness is she always wants to be in the middle of it. It’s kind of a cool strength weakness thing.

It’s kind of a control freak type of thing. Is that going to be delved into?

WOLL: Sure. As we look in the past and see the varying levels of control and out-of-controlness that Karen has experienced, I do buy that there’s a sense of, if I let go for a second, everything falls apart. So I better hold on to it and I better make sure this is done right because consequences can be awful. And they still are this season. A lot of what Karen deals with is, “I keep trying to do the right thing and yet people still die. They die on my watch and even sometimes because of me.”

What is Karen’s reaction to Wilson Fisk’s return to New York?

WOLL: Really fucking terrified. I killed his best friend. He doesn’t know it yet, that’s a good thing. It was funny, they kept saying, “Play the paranoia. We definitely want to work up the paranoia.” It’s not paranoia if it’s real! If he’s really going to kill you if he finds out, that’s not paranoia. That’s real fear. We definitely play with that. I finally got to do a scene with Vincent and it was fantastic. We were both so excited because he killed my Ben Urich and I killed his James Wesley so we have a mutual hate, I guess. Very Shakespearian mutual disgust for each other. But as actors, I think we both have tremendous respect for each other and the opportunity to get to play with him in this brilliantly flamboyant performance he gives, which is very much a contrast to Karen. So it was great to get both of those energies in a room and see how they play off each other. It was a great day. There was like a snowstorm out when we shot it. We felt very much like we were all stuck in this little soundstage, the winds were roaring outside, emotions were roaring inside. It was cool.

Karen went through a huge ordeal in The Punisher very recently, I’m wondering if her adventures in The Punisher have changed her going into Daredevil season 3?

WOLL: I think definitely, The Punisher world…all these worlds are violent worlds, but The Punisher’s world particularly so. One of my favorite themes from that Punisher season, and it’s particularly that one scene out by the water, where I have to ask him, “Where does it end? At what point is your revenge over? At what point do you feel better after killing hundreds of people.” And, of course, the answer is “never.” I like the idea that that’s a realization for me, too. An understanding that I have to find. I think, in a way, it made me more sensitive to the consequences of extreme action. Some of that theming gets picked up between Karen and Matt once we realize he’s still around.

With everything Karen is going through how has her worldview changed, for you, as an actor? Coming from season one where she’s trying to find her own way until now, she’s seen the undead ninjas…

WOLL: I actually never did! I only heard about the undead ninjas. Charlie and I actually had a conversation about that. I felt bad because he was sort of off in that storyline on his own. I was like “If I was there I could help support that a little.” It just felt very out of our world, the grounded world of Daredevil. We had a conversation about it and were like, “Well it has to be that. In this room, right now, if I told you I’ve seen ghosts, I have. I know it sounds crazy but that’s what I’ve seen.” We agreed that the best way to take on mystical elements in a world that is grounded is to treat them as mystical. To treat them as exceptionally, insanely crazy. Unfortunately, I couldn’t play that with him as a support but I’m sure he did a tremendous job whatever he chose to do with it. But worldview? I don’t know, it’s like asking me what my worldview is.

I think Karen is a profoundly lonely person. She avoids honest connection. That’s part of why the relationship with Matt couldn’t work in season 2. Because neither of them were being honest with each other about who they really were. And we knew that was what we wanted to play, that there is clearly attraction here but these are not people who are ready to open up. I don’t know if it’s a worldview, but if the world was a really scary place that would never accept me, that didn’t want to see who I really was, then over the years, I think it’s about getting braver. And accepting that you have to be honest about who you are and maybe people will hate you for it.

Does Karen trust anybody?

WOLL: Maybe Foggy.

Karen has done very well for herself post-Matt, do you think Karen is better off without Matt?

WOLL: It’s interesting. No, I don’t think I’m better off without him but I wouldn’t blame Karen for thinking that she might be. I think that he’s a damaged person. I think that if I weren’t so angry with him I could see that he needs help. That’s a little bit certainly the theming that we play with this year. Just because someone pushes you away, do you accept that and say, “Hey, I don’t have to take this shit.” Or do you try and see deeper and see that that’s coming out of hurt and try and understand your way through it. Honestly, either of those answers is appropriate. It depends on what you can take at any given moment. But like I said, I think Karen is alone. Matt and Foggy are two of the only people she’s had a long relationship with in many, many years. That’s worth fighting for even if it seems like he doesn’t want you to.

How did you learn about Karen’s past? Was it as you got the scripts or did you sit down with Erik?

WOLL: Before the season started, Erik was really nice and reached out to all of us and took us to lunch and we had a conversation about it. He told me what his plans were then and obviously, that was months ago and it has changed. Not drastically but significantly since then. So it was a different story. But I’ll take as much information as they’ll give me. Every other week we were emailing or talking on the phone like, “Hey, any update on that?” He was really about being transparent with me about the direction they were going. When I finally did get a script he was really open to notes and ideas that I had and things that help me tell the story. It was crazy collaborative. With the supervising writer, the writer who wrote the episode, the director, myself, and Erik and all these great other characters that we brought on, everyone was on point. And collaborative, and open to any idea. We could throw any idea out and say, “Well, maybe that won’t work, let’s try this one.” It was two of the most exciting and fun weeks of my career, working on that material.

Is there any way that season 3 feels different from the other seasons, or any other Marvel Netflix show that you worked on?

WOLL: I think the big difference, and this is giving a lot of credit to Erik, he has decided to take on this idea of deep POV. So we have about six main characters and the idea is that every scene that you are in, you will be from the perspective of one character. That doesn’t mean that you won’t see them in the show, but that you start with them, you end with them, you notice whatever they notice, and it should give the season a very different feel. What’s fun is when two of those POV characters are in the same scene together. It’s been really interesting watching directors figure out like, “How do you shift that? Whose perspective is it?” Like in a scene with me and Fisk, it’s both of our POVs. When do we shift? When is it more interesting to be with Karen and when is it more interesting to be with him? That should really lend some really interesting new flavor to it. As well as we spend a lot of time with other characters other than Daredevil, which will lend a lot of depth to other characters and some mystery to Matt, which is always a good thing.

Karen has been a romantic interest, even in the comics, a lot of people have linked her automatically as a romantic interest. Matt is gone. How is Karen going to exist and grow outside of her comic book origins and how she was played in season 1 and 2?

WOLL: I might argue that I wasn’t a love interest in seasons 1 and 2. Look, romantic stories are incredibly fun to play. I love them. It’s like being 16 again. You get to have all those feelings. But all of the romance I’ve gotten to play, with any of the characters in the series, whether that’s Frank or Matt, they all come from a need. From a lonely person, a person who doubts whether she is deserving of love. So the relationship is deeper than just storytelling romance. With Matt gone, what will be good for Karen is she’ll need to find out whether she is worthy of love without having to find it through him. Can she discover that she’s valuable without having to find that in a romantic partner? That’s been a fun, interesting thing to play. My hope is that as they reconnect he’ll be able to help her see that better. That that will end up being how they connect with each other.

What can you tell us about the relationship between Karen and Foggy this season? A lot of times when they bond, they bond because they’re anguished over Matt, but Matt’s gone.

WOLL: There’s still plenty of anguish. When you die you don’t stop being anguishing. That’s not a word, I’m gonna’ make that a word. Foggy is about consistency. If Matt and Karen—who are the most inconsistent, wild, reckless people who exist—didn’t have Foggy, nothing would get done. So I think that he provides security and safety and support for Karen. You asked if there’s anybody she could trust, I think he would be that one person. Now I think they have very different points of view. What Karen thinks is the right thing is to do is very different from what Foggy thinks is the right thing to do. But they always support one another. Foggy’s in a great relationship so it’s very fun to think of Karen being happy for him. That he’s living a normal life while she and Matt are incapable of that.

Are they getting coffee? Are they hanging out?

WOLL: You know what happened? We have now, on our Marvel shows, we are not allowed to just literally go for coffee as characters. Because that euphemism [from Luke Cage] is so strong. We literally had scenes where I’m like, “Alright, let’s go get some coffee.” And they’re like, “No, you can’t say that. People will read into it.” No, Karen and Foggy are not “getting coffee.” We drink a lot of whiskey and scotch.

As Karen, when she watches Frank and Matt, does she find similarities between the two of them and does she find any of those qualities in herself?

WOLL: Yes. I think part of the reason why I was such a staunch supporter of Frank in a roundabout way is because I understand that. I killed out of revenge. There were other ways to handle that situation and I did not choose that. I chose to take him down because I was mad. So yeah, if you label Frank Castle a monster, what does that make me? So in a way, I had to, for my own self-image, excuse him to a certain extent. Similarly, with Matt, and this has really been the fun thing to work on, everything that I blame him for, that I think he’s…I think he’s moody, and all over the place, and he’s more interested in taking down the bad guy than his friends, it’s all stuff that I do too. It’s a really nice kind of lack of awareness. Again, this season, all those things I was so mad about, the more separation I have from him, the more that I see I am also like him. Again, that’s where the forgiveness can start to come in.

Your wardrobe is changing, which makes it easier for you to fight. Are you going to be getting in on any of the action?

WOLL: I’m very good at yelling. I will not be a zombie ninja. Karen does still have her gun. That’s an interesting thing and that’s definitely something that we want to be very careful that we don’t inadvertently make some sort of big commercial for guns and things like that. But I enjoy, especially as a female on this series, being able to have that conversation. I thought Punisher was starting to move into those conversations and we definitely have some ideas this year about the gun not representing safety. That Karen, and anyone, can be attacked whether she’s carrying or not. She can save herself whether she’s carrying or not. The gun is not the difference in that situation. In terms of fighting and wardrobe and things, again, I have to say I really enjoy that Karen is not a physical fighter. It suggests that you’re not strong if you don’t fight that way, and I love the fact that because I can’t punch you and win I have to be smarter than you. I have to be three steps ahead of you. So my strength and my super-power is involved in something else. It makes us a better team. If Matt’s the physical force and Foggy is the logical law-abiding piece, then I’m the intelligent, beat them at their own game type of thing. Then we all kind of cover each other’s tracks a little bit. Look, I think Karen is not afraid to get physical. Definitely, when we go back and look at her past we’ll see physical violence is not unknown to her. But I enjoy that it’s not my first instinct. My first instinct is to go, “I know what you’re thinking and I’m going to get there a day before you and prepare everything so that you’re screwed when you get there.” That’s fun for me that it’s a different kind of strength.

I also feel like we want to keep it in character. You don’t want like, all of a sudden she knows martial arts. She is certainly scrappy, willing to fight. But she’s not putting on a suit. If you’re coming at me, sure, I’ll throw a punch or I’m going to duck or I’ll hit you with something. But it’s much more improvised…I was talking with our assistant stunt director who was up shooting with us some interesting stuff for Karen’s backstory. He said it’s really interesting because they do so much trained, exciting acrobatic fights on this that they don’t do a lot of basic domestic violence. Really scary, really realistic fighting. He said it’s really interesting to go back and see that and how real and scary that can be. So if Karen lives in a violent world, it’s that world. It’s the world of, “I can’t throw a punch and knock you out, so that’s not my best solution to this.” I believe Karen’s taken a self-defense course. I believe that I could give you a bloody nose and run, get the fuck out of there because that’s what being smart is. Rather than Matt, who knows how to stay in the fight and win and get his advantage. So I just want to make sure we keep our characters very true.

Has playing a journalist taught you how to navigate questions like these?

WOLL: No, working for HBO and Marvel taught me how to navigate journalistic questions. Actually, my aunt teaches journalism, so I have picked her brain a ton. Even in Punisher, we had the guy who wrote in a threat to the paper. She gave me a lot of information on the Unabomber and how that was handled. Just because I wanted to make sure we really followed the line on it. Obviously, it’s TV and you’re going to have to take some poetic license here and there. But yeah, it’s been nice to play that archetype a little bit. It’s cool.

#daredevil #karen page #kastle #daredevil season 3 #dd S3 #daredevil s3 #matt murdock #foggy nelson #frank castle #deborah ann woll #matt x karen x foggy #karedevil #frank x karen #matt x karen #karen x foggy #daredevil spoilers #netflix marvel #marvel tv

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booksteaandarainyday · 6 years

Text

When You Can’t Sleep at Night

Matt hasn’t slept properly in weeks. Turns out, someone else isn’t sleeping either.

Crossposted on AO3 and Fanfiction under booksteaandrainydays.

***

Matt hadn’t slept properly in weeks.

To be fair, it had probably been a lot longer than that since he’d slept through the entire night, but recently he’d been lucky to snag an hour at a time, much less anything allowing for real restfulness. It was for this reason that he was sitting on his leather sofa at three-thirty in the morning listening to Mick Jagger crooning about painting something black (ironic, really) from his phone’s music app and going through some of the facts from the latest court case he’d taken on. When the light tap at his door sounded, he ignored it at first, dismissing it as a figment of his tired mind, until it happened again a little louder. He cocked his head, listening for a clue as to who could possibly be at his apartment at this time of night, and he paused his music.

The heartbeat caught his attention first, a quick, erratic rhythm indicating whoever it was seemed to be a little nervous. Then her scent hit his nose, even through the wood of the door, a light vanilla almost reminiscent of freshly baked cupcakes. Nothing overpowering, but it nearly knocked him out of his seat to know she was standing outside his door when he’d thought she’d never speak to him again.

As the third light knock echoed through his now silent apartment, Matt was already halfway across the room, his eagerness to “see” her again getting the better of him. He slid back the deadbolt, turning the handle and swinging the door open as fast as he could, startling his visitor and interrupting what would have been the fourth knock if her sudden intake of breath and the woosh of air from lowering her hand were any indication. “Hi, Karen,” he said.

“Hi, Matt,” she responded. For a moment neither of them said anything else, just stood silent in each other’s presence. Matt was taking note of everything he could about the woman standing before him. Her heartbeat was still faster than usual, and now that he was closer, he could detect the smell of snow mixing with the vanilla he had come to associate with her. He could also sense that she was shivering a little which brought him out of his internal study of her.

“Shit.” Matt stepped aside, clearing his doorway. “Sorry, Karen. It must be freezing outside. Come in.” The chuckle she quietly let out warmed his heart, and one side of his mouth twitched upwards. She walked past him to where he knew his coat rack was, and he heard the faint snick of the buttons on her coat popping as he closed the door. He moved behind her, taking care to shuffle his feet so she wouldn’t startle, and he helped her out of the garment, hanging it for her. It was warmed from being so close to her skin, and he held it a moment longer than necessary, absorbing some of that warmth.

He winced, hoping she hadn’t noticed. Hugging her coat was probably considered a creepy thing to do. He’d just...missed her was all.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” Karen was walking around his apartment with ease, as though it hadn’t been months since the last time she’d been there. She now took a spot on his couch, drumming her fingers nervously against the armrest. He couldn’t see her, but he could tell she was now looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to reply. Instead, he said nothing, silently nodding his head and approaching her, but sitting on the sofa across the coffee table, giving her the space he sensed she needed.

She breathed in deeply, as though steeling herself for her next words, and on her exhale an entire story flowed out of her- a story that had him clenching his fists in anger. Not anger at her, no, anger at the terrible things she was telling him had happened to her and he’d had no idea. He was so caught up in the tale echoing through his head he didn’t detect the lack of her voice for a moment. When he did, the sound of stifled sobs hit him like a physical blow. He was out of his seat and wrapping his arms around Karen’s shaking form before he could process more than one more thought: If James Wesley were still alive, I would kill him for putting her through this.

At his touch, Karen’s cries got louder even as she struggled to push him from her. Matt only held her more tightly. “No, Matt, please,” she whimpered. “I’m a murderer. A killer! I don’t deserve any God damn sympathy.” It occurred to him then, why she hadn’t said anything to him before, why she’d suffered by herself for so long.

All those times he’d bad mouthed Frank Castle for killing. When Foggy had said anything about a murderer not deserving to go free. Hell, back when they’d been trying to take down Wilson Fisk, they’d talked about the lack of humanity in his deeds. Fuck. And the entire time, Karen had sat silently, taking their words to heart.

Gently, Matt cupped her chin, tilting her face toward him, acutely aware of the fact that he’d forgotten to put his glasses back on as he felt her eyes resting on him, through him. “Hey,” he whispered. “You, Karen Page, are not a murderer.” Her scoff made him grip her face a little more firmly in his hand as she tried to turn away from him. “You’re not.” He lowered his head to softly press his forehead to hers, just for a second. “You’re a survivor. But I know you’re still going to feel bad for what you did-what he forced you to choose.”

A breath he hadn’t even realized she was holding burst out of her, along with fresh tears, and Karen collapsed into his chest, her head resting in the crook of his neck and her arms wound their way around his shoulders. Smoothly, he adjusted their position to a more comfortable one, lifting her so she was sitting across his lap, one hand resting on her head and the other stroking reassuringly up and down her back as he murmured quietly in her ear. He twirled her long, soft hair between his fingers as he felt her sobs gradually calm.

“I just want you to know,” he said, “I will always be grateful for that, Karen.”

“Grateful that I killed him?” she asked hoarsely.

Matt shook his head. He felt her shift, tucking one of her arms into her chest, as though trying to make herself smaller. He reached to grasp her fingers, threading them between his own. “No. I’m sorry you were put in the position where you had to make that kind of choice.” He took a breath, preparing himself for his next statement. “What I’m grateful for is that you’re still here. With me. If it was a choice of you or Wesley, I am so fucking thankful you chose yourself because I don’t know what I would do without you in my life.” And I would choose you every single time.

His last words were silent, spoken only to himself for fear that she would be able to read the depth of emotion he was sure would have leaked into his voice. He didn’t think she was quite ready for that.

Yet.

And still, even though he hadn’t said it aloud, he thought maybe she could feel it, if the way she clenched his fingers was proof.

They sat together, silently entwined, for what felt like hours. Matt listened as Karen’s breathing evened out, heard the way the beat of her heart slowed until it was in sync with his own. She’d fallen asleep, and he was finally feeling like he could drift off as well. Carefully, he extracted his hand from hers, moving it beneath her legs to lift her again, this time standing himself and walking to his bedroom.

His sheet and blanket were still pulled back from where he’d shoved them off his body as he got out of bed the morning before. Karen didn’t stir as he lay her down, but when he reached to tug covers over her, she fisted her hand in the material of his t-shirt. She sat up even as she pulled him down to sit on the bed with her. “You’re staying in here tonight with me.” It wasn’t a question. Matt opened his mouth to protest, but she shushed him with a finger over his lips.

“It’s your bed, Matt. I’m not kicking you out of your own bed.” And with that, he found himself lying on his back, one arm outstretched to pillow her head as she lay on her side facing away from him while he stared sightlessly at his ceiling. For a few minutes, the only sound was the slight rustle of the sheets as they breathed, although neither of them slept. Finally, Karen turned to face him. “I can hear you over-thinking this,” she told him. The bed dipped as she scooted closer, until their bodies were pressed together, and she threw an arm over his stomach even as her forehead rested against the side of his face. “I promise we can talk more in the morning. For now, just… sleep.”

Instinctively, Matt’s arm curled comfortably around her shoulders, his fingers brushing bare skin, and his thumb traced a caress there. A moment passed, then another, and he let his eyes drift shut. He smiled as he felt Karen tilt her head and press a soft, lingering kiss against his jaw. “G’night, Matty,” she mumbled sleepily.

“Goodnight, Karen,” he replied. But she was already asleep. Matt let himself relax, taking in the fragrances around her he’d been too preoccupied to notice before- the coconut of her shampoo, the fading ink from a newspaper, mint from her toothpaste. And underlying it all was just… Karen.

Turning his head, he gently returned her kiss, brushing his lips against her hair.

“Love you,” came the words sweetly whispered against his neck. Matt knew she hadn’t awakened, and his heart clenched at the knowledge that she’d spoken in her sleep. He said nothing, deciding to wait until she was conscious to respond, merely kissing her again as he started drifting off into sleep.

For the first time in a long time, Matt Murdock slept peacefully, with no nightmares to haunt him. Instead, he had a promise of tomorrow with the beautiful, brave woman at his side and a single phrase repeating, even through the swirling colors of his dreams.

I love you, too.

#daredevil #karedevil #matt x karen #matt murdock #karen page #karedevil squad

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dreamwritesimagines · 7 years

Text

Bad Habit 8 - Riverside [Billy Russo x Reader]

A.N.: Your feedback means so much to me, my lovelies! <3 Thank you, and merry Christmas! <3

Characters: Billy Russo x Reader, Karen Page, Frank Castle, Matt Murdock, Foggy Nelson

Summary: Pinky promises are meant to be kept.

Click here for: Bad Habit 1, Bad Habit 2, Bad Habit 3 Bad Habit 4 Bad Habit 5 Bad Habit 6 Bad Habit 7

Click here to see the playlist for the first 4 parts!

Warning: Explicit language, cussing, mentions of sex, kissing.

Word Count: 4286

Please tell me what you think

Gif’s not mine!

You’d had your fair share of tense moments in your life. Incidents involving your brother, incidents involving confrontation, and everything between them, they all had made you feel like you were about to pass out from nervousness, but waiting for Matt in a questioning room took the cake.

And when he actually walked in, your head spun from the sudden relief.

“Matt!”

Matt shot the police a curt smile, “May I have a word with my client, officer?”

The police eyed you up and down and pushed his chair back, then left the room while you ran your fingers through your hair, bouncing your leg. Matt heaved a sigh as he heard the door close.

“Please tell me you didn’t say anything.”

You shook your head, then scowled at yourself in your head.

“No.”

“Did you sign anything?”

“I know what not to do.” You muttered, “No. I just waited for you.”

“Thank God…” Matt muttered and crossed his arms, “Karen and Foggy are outside by the way. He’s speaking to the cops and she says she will kill you with your own gun as soon as you walk outside.”

“Because I haven’t suffered enough today?”

“Well, it is still afternoon,” he stated and ran a hand over his face, “We leave you alone for like 5 minutes and you start shooting guns? Seriously?”

“I didn’t shoot anything!” You lowered your voice, “Besides, what the fuck happened to lawyer-client professionalism?”

“You don’t pay me.”

“I got you a round of shots last night, you ungrateful asshole.”

“Also, your fleeing the scene doesn’t exactly help.”

“I didn’t flee!”

“Usually, after an accident you wait for the police.”

“Oh really, Matty? You wait for the police?” You mimicked his deep voice, “It’s Hell’s Kitchen, who the fuck cares about that shit anymore?! New York has been invaded by the fucking aliens twice by now, Devil of Hell’s Kitchen runs around and saves people at night, there is a superhero in every corner and people flip over a gun shot? Jesus, priorities!” You leaned back, sulking, “Wasn’t even my gun.”

Matt closed his eyes, “I know you think it makes it better, but it actually makes it worse,” he said “Are you telling me you fired a gun you weren’t even allowed to have with you in the first place?”

“I didn’t fire shit!” You lowered your voice and Matt frowned,

“I don’t get it.”

“I-“ You cleared your throat, “I-um… someone was trying to hurt me last night.”

“Who?”

You bit inside your cheek, scratching at the table and Matt made a face as if he could hear it.

“Y/N,” he insisted, “Who?”

“My brother.”

Matt paused “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“That would be because I wish I didn’t have a brother.” You mumbled and he drummed his fingertips on the table,

“Care to elaborate?”

You covered your face with your hands, then rubbed at your eyes, “Well …” You looked at him, “Okay, so, long story short. I have a brother, who’s a very, very dangerous psycho. He set up this mechanism in my apartment which looked like a booby trap and it’d basically… It’d shoot me as soon as I opened my door. But um… thankfully Billy was there, so the bullet didn’t hit me.” You pulled at your sleeves, “I can’t go to prison, Matt, I haven’t even watched Orange Is The New Black yet!”

That seemed to make him smile but only for a moment, “So no one was hurt?”

“No, it hit the wall.” You flinched in your chair as the door opened but Foggy walked inside.

“Any problems?”

Matt shook his head, “What are they saying?”

“I have some good news and some bad news.” Foggy said, “Good news is that, they’re gonna let you go. You’re welcome.”

You let out a breath and leaned your head to the table, “Can anyone else hear the Hallelujah Chorus, or is it just me?”

“Bad news…” Foggy trailed off, making you raise your head, “Now you’re also in debt to the police department.”

“Oh Jesus…”

“And um… You might want to pick up some extra shift at the café.” He put the document in front of you and you skimmed the lines, your eyes widening as you saw the number.

“Oh fuck!”

“That’s what irresponsibility gets you.”

Matt shook his head again, “Wasn’t her fault.” He muttered as you picked up the pen and signed the paper.

“Now, can we leave?”

After leaving the police station you decided you at least owed your friends a cup of coffee, so you, Foggy, Matt and Karen -who was still stubbornly glaring at you- made your way into the café. Vicky ran to you and hugged you tight.

“Vicky- Vicky my stitches-“ You coughed and she pulled back, her eyes filled with tears.

“I thought you’d get a life sentence!”

Foggy turned to stare at her, then elbowed Matt who looked like he was ready to burst into a laughter. Karen crossed her arms, biting inside her cheek.

“Vicky, you do know I didn’t kill anyone?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her.” Liz said after squeezing your arm in an assuring manner, “You okay?”

You nodded, “Is the boss here?”

“Nope. Sit down, I’ll bring you all coffee.”

Matt smiled at her politely and he and Foggy sat down, while Karen looked at you silently, her brows raised.

“Okay, let’s just get coffee and then you can fuck me up.” You said as you both sat down. Karen clicked her tongue.

“So let me get this straight.” She started, “You got attacked, -again, if I may add-, and after you got attacked, you decided your house wasn’t safe anymore-“

“It’ll be safe once I get the door fixed,” You said and Foggy got his phone out of his pocket and started typing something.

“On it. I know a guy who owes me a favor.”

“And then,” Karen continued as if no one had cut her off, “Then instead of calling me- your best friend- you decided to go and crash at a guy’s place whom you’ve known for a little over a week?”

“Um…” You swallowed and turned to Matt, “A little help here?”

“You’re on your own.”

“Shit- Okay, Karen-“ You took a deep breath, “I know how that sounds like and in my defense...” You cleared your throat, “He seduced me with his hair and his facial hair.”

Karen rolled her eyes, “You know what, I’m gonna shoot you and this time you could just crawl your way to Billy’s apartment, since he’s the guy-“

“Oh my God, I was almost shot, okay, show some compassion woman!”

“And I had to learn about you getting arrested from your friend, not from you-“

“What the fuck was I supposed to do, Karen? Was I supposed to text “Tfw police comes to pick you up, hashtag yolo?”

Karen raised her brows, “Yeah? What did you text Billy when we left the police station?”

You sulked, “Straight outta prison, hashtag badass.” You muttered and Matt snorted,

“One would think you weren’t shaking in fear when I walked inside.”

“Do you have any idea about how I felt?!” Karen snapped as Foggy slid down in his chair, his shoulders silently shaking with laughter. “You don’t go to a stranger’s house after you almost get shot, you come to your best friend-“

“My best friend would drag me to a hospital-“

“Fuck yeah I would drag you to a hospital, because that’s where people go when they get hurt!” She lowered her voice, “They don’t go to a guy’s house to play doctor.”

“She has a point.”

“Whose side are you on?!”

“Hers.” Both Matt and Foggy pointed at Karen, who looked smug and leaned back, you on the other hand crossed your arms.

“Fine, Karen, I’ll crawl and bleed on your couch the next time I get shot, I promise.” You muttered and turned to Matt and Foggy, “Thanks for saving my ass today, traitors.”

Matt waved a hand dismissively “I’m pretty sure you can pay us with shots.”

You snorted, “I’ll be lucky to have money to get food.” You grumbled and Karen’s frown deepened.

“What?”

“I’m supposed to pay this huge amount of money, because of the whole getting arrested thing also, I should just find a dead animal and leave it at my neighbor’s doorstep for intimidation like we do in Chicago, snitches get stitches-“

“I don’t really think that’s a thing, what part of Chicago did you use to live in?”

“Dangerous part of Chicago.” You answered Foggy and he shrugged,

“Why don’t you ask fancy boy?”

You snorted, “I’d rather shoot myself. Do you guys know any loan sharks?”

“Not funny.” Karen said as Vicky walked to your table with coffee cups.

“There you go.”

“Thank you.” Matt said politely and you took your cup, then took a sip.

“You’re feeling alright?”

“Prison changes a person, Vicky.”

“You stayed in custody for two hours.” Foggy commented and as if on cue, your phone started ringing. You lowered your glances to see Billy’s name flashing across your screen and you took a deep breath, then took the phone to your ear.

“You’re speaking to Al Capone?”

Karen rolled her eyes, shaking her head slightly and Billy heaved a sigh.

“I can’t tell if you’re serious or not on the phone, what’s going on?”

“Got arrested.” You sipped your coffee and Billy paused,

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you want me to make you an offer you can’t refuse?”

“I’m gonna be so pissed if I find a horse head in my apartment.” He said, “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

“I left you alone for about an hour,” Billy stated incredulously. “How did you get arrested in an hour? For what?!”

“Discharge of arms last night.”

He groaned, “Fuck…”

You bit on your lip, trying to keep your mind off the gutter “Yeah so, I’m like extra dangerous now.”

“You’re extra ridiculous, that’s what you are.”

“Boy you’re really pushing your luck with the horse head-“

“Where are you? I’m sending a lawyer-“

“No need, we handled it.”

“We handled it?”

“Yeah, Matt and Foggy saved my ass.”

There was a pause and he clicked his tongue, “Did they?”

You nodded, “Anyway, I was gonna ask you out tonight. My treat, even if I can’t actually afford it. Consider it my thanks for last night.”

Foggy’s head shot up and he made a face, “Oh wow.”

You flipped him, “So?”

“Sure,” Billy’s voice was distant for some reason, “I could be a bit late though, is that okay?”

“Oh yeah, no problem, I can start before you.”

“Great. Will Matt be accompanying you until I get there?”

You pulled your brows together, “Huh?”

“Never mind.” He said, “Listen, gotta catch a meeting, send me the address.” With that, he hung up and you stared at the phone, frowning.

“The hell just happened?”

You drummed your fingernails on the counter of the bar, playing with your phone. You were already on your third drink and somehow, it didn’t help the way you felt. You had no idea why Billy had reacted that way, but you could already tell that you didn’t like it.

As soon as you finished your drink and put the glass on table, somebody took the seat beside you.

“Hi.”

Great. Now you had another problem.

“Hello.” You smiled politely before turning back to your phone but the guy didn’t seem to take the hint.

“What’re you drinking?”

“Nothing special.” You said curtly and he smiled slightly.

“I’m Lucas, and you are?”

“Not interested.”

“You’re this rude to everyone who’s nice to you? Wouldn’t kill you to smile.”

That got you to raise your head from the phone and you glared at him, “Buddy, I don’t know you, okay? I’m waiting for someone, so please…” You waved a hand dismissively and he shrugged.

“Just trying to make conversation.”

“I’d try my luck somewhere else.”

“Maybe I’m nice once you get to know me.”

“Jesus Christ-“ You started but before you could say anything else, your phone started ringing. It was a number you didn’t know so you frowned slightly, automatically distracted from the guy, and you held the phone in your hand for a couple of seconds before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hi sis.”

And just like that, all the buzz in your head was gone. Your breathing got way faster as you felt the familiar panic filling your system and you stood up from the seat, suddenly it had become way too hard to breathe in the bar. You pushed open the door and walked outside, holding the phone tightly in your hand.

“You still there?” The familiar drawl made you grit your teeth and you kept walking without knowing where you’d end up, in hopes to find somewhere calmer and more silent.

“Yeah. I’m here, asshole.”

“Good. Missed me?”

You stayed silent and leaned your head back to the brick wall of the alley, taking a deep breath.

He wasn’t here. And you were completely safe.

“The fuck you want?”

“That’s no way to talk to your brother.”

“You know what, I’m getting really tired of this shit where everyone tells me how to talk to someone. The fuck do you want?”

“I waited for you.” His voice was enough to send a chill down your spine, “In the hospital. You didn’t show up.”

“Yeah, sorry your plan for shooting me didn’t work exactly the way you thought it would.”

“Courtesy of your boyfriend I’m sure.”

Your grip around the phone tightened and he chuckled.

“What? Didn’t think I’d find out? I’m offended, my baby sis not telling me shit about her man. I should get to know him to see if he’s a good fit-“

“You don’t get close to him, dickhead,” You tried to keep your voice stable even if your eyes were already filled with tears, “You hear? If you do, I swear to God-“

“What?” his voice was taunting, “You’ll do what, lil sis?”

You only paused for a second,

“I will end you.”

“See, that might not work the way you want.”

You gulped and tried to see through the haze of anger and panic, and bit inside your cheek, ignoring the burning in your eyes.

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice came out as a whisper and you heard his chuckle before he took a deep breath.

“Told you,” he said, “Family over everything, sis.”

With that, he hung up and you looked at the screen, trying to pull yourself together and dug your fingernails into your palms, closing your eyes for a second.

No. It wasn’t the time for this.

You were gonna go inside, and have some fun with Billy and everything would be fine-

“Hey.”

Or not.

You threw your head back, adrenaline still pulsing through your veins and turned around to look at Lucas, who had his hands in his pockets, watching you.

“You seem stressed.”

“Jesus, what is this, a joke?” You snapped, “Dude, get the fucking clue, not interested.” You took a step to walk past him but before you could, he grabbed your arm, smiling at you.

You should’ve been scared. You knew you were supposed to be scared, but somehow, as the anger filled your veins, you were way too furious to feel any fear.

“Let go of my arm before you lose that hand.”

“Or what?”

Before you could open your mouth, your fist had already flown forward and as soon as he stumbled back, someone yanked him from behind and turned him around before punching him hard.

“Can’t say she didn’t warn you.” He said calmly as Lucas tried to find his balance, and lunged himself at Billy, but even you could tell it was a lost fight even before it began. Billy grabbed his wrist and twisted his hand before the sickening crack reached your ears and Lucas let out a scream of pain, which made you smile only for a second before you snapped out of it, shocked at yourself.

You couldn’t. You weren’t supposed to find this satisfactory in any way.

“Billy- stop, okay, enough-”

He didn’t seem to hear you, instead he threw another punch at Lucas and you heard another crack, then saw the blood coming out of Lucas’s nose before he gripped it tight.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry-“

“Doesn’t work like that, asshole.” He threw him towards the brick wall and Lucas hit the wall like a rag doll before he stumbled on his steps, still trying to find his balance before you got between him and Billy and Lucas used that opportunity to run away from him, getting out of the alley as fast as he could.

“Get out of the way.”

“No!” You snapped at him, “You need to stop- that’s- that’s enough.”

He turned to look at you, and you could see the wild fire burning in his dark eyes as he panted.

“That’s enough?” He repeated, his voice barely holding back his anger, “Do you have any idea what that fucker-“

“I know, okay? It’s not the first time, won’t be the last, but listen to me- Billy!” You raised your voice as he took a step and you pressed your hand to his chest, feeling his fast heart beat against your palm, “I’m fine.”

“Y/N-“

“Just some creepy guy, being creepy. Okay? I’m fine. Nothing happened.”

“Like fuck nothing happened, I’m gonna-“

“You’re gonna do nothing.”

“I’m gonna kill him-” he tried to walk past you but you pushed him back.

“I don’t have any idea about how conjugal visits work in New York, so you’re gonna chill the fuck down!”

But your snapping at him seemed to have no power on him, because he turned his back to pace in the alley, running a hand through his slicked back hair, breathing hard as if he didn’t know how to come back down from the high the anger gave him. It was as if it was all out of his control and you were witnessing a side of him neither you, nor he had any idea about how to keep in check.

And it was all too much. It was as if your brain had suddenly gone numb, all the panic, all the fear, everything was swallowed by this strange feeling that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I-I don’t want you to leave, okay?” Your voice dropped a bit “Screw the guy, and stay, for me.”

Billy turned to look at you as you walked to him, and cupped his cheek.

“Please?” Your hand balled up into a fist as you held his shirt and stood on your tiptoes, planting a soft kiss to his lips, then wrapped your arms around his neck, scratching the back of his neck slowly. You let out a soft whine when he pressed you against the wall and pulled you into a deep kiss, your hands slipping to his chest.

“Y/N-“ He let out a breath when he pulled back, sounding physically hurt from being unable to decide what to do, and when you looked up at him, you were sure that your pupils were as wide as his, as if you both were high on something.

He held you tight on the back of your neck, the darkness in his eyes focused on you.

“You want me to stay?” he asked hoarsely, and you gulped, then nodded fervently as soon as it dawned on you.

Desire.

That was what you felt. That was what suffocated every other feeling in your mind. You couldn’t even think about anything else anymore, not the threats coming closer, not the asshole from the bar, nothing. All you could feel was that you needed him, with you. In any way possible.

In a very specific way if possible, thank you very much.

“And then what?”

Your eyes snapped up to his, to see the gleam in them “W-What?”

“I can stay here…” He taunted, “But what do you want me to do?”

You were at lost for words, especially when he planted a kiss to your neck, holding you still. You arched your back, pressing your body against his without knowing what the hell you were doing.

“Billy-“

“What do you want us to do, Y/N?” Billy insisted and you tried to speak through the haze in your brain.

“An-anything?” You offered shakily, making him chuckle.

“Anything?” he repeated and you nodded, trying to silence the voice in your mind saying; Not anything, I don’t want to do ‘anything’ in a dark alley. Your hormones turned out to be stronger than your ration so you just waited until Billy spoke again

“So if I told you…” he dragged his fingertips on your arm “That I want to have you right here, right now…?”

“Billy-“ That didn’t come out as a sob, nope, not at all. His hands went under your shirt to feel your skin against his fingertips, but as soon as his grip tightened around your waist, pain shot through your wound and you held your breath, a yelp of pain escaping from your lips. That seemed to have the same effect on him as fire, because he pulled back as if you burned him.

“You okay? Did I hurt you?”

You tried to catch your breath and shook your head,

“No, not you- the stitches hurt.”

He nodded curtly and licked his lips, as if trying to control himself.

“I-um…” For the first time since you’ve met him, he stammered, “Do you want to go inside?”

That made you snap out of the bliss and you thought for a second, remembering why you were outside. Your hand involuntarily went to your pocket to check your phone as the panic dawned on you once again, out of nowhere and you shook your head.

“I need some fresh air.” You said, “Walk with me?”

Your walk to riverside was silent. Billy seemed to understand when you wanted to talk and when you didn’t, because he didn’t even open his mouth to attempt to start a conversation. When you reached the bench by the riverside, you uncapped your beer that you both had got on the way, and took a sip as you sat down. Billy sat down next to you and you inhaled the cold breeze, leaning forward, resting your elbows on your knees.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay.”

You took another sip from your beer, and gulped, biting inside your cheek. You could feel the burning behind your eyes but you blinked fast, desperate to keep the tears at bay, at least until you were done saying what you needed to say.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you,” You started, “I told you I left Chicago because me and my brother had a fight. It’s actually… It’s a lot complicated than that.”

He nodded silently, waiting for you to keep going.

“My brother, he’s-“ You cleared your throat, “I don’t need to tell you he’s dangerous. I think you’ve seen that. What you haven’t seen is…that little booby trap? That’s just the beginning of what he could do.”

“To you?”

“To anyone.” You stated and licked your lips, “But yeah. Especially to me.”

“Why?”

A bitter chuckle escaped from your lips as the cold breeze whipped your hair, and you swirled the liquid in the bottle, deep in thought.

“I’ve done something bad,” You said slowly, “At least… at least he thinks it’s bad. And then all hell broke loose.” You kept your eyes on the calm, still water. “The reason why I left Chicago wasn’t our argument. It was because of his revenge. I had this… I had this boyfriend.” You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, “Around the time I did what I did. My brother hurt him, very badly. In front of me.”

Billy frowned, “What did you do?”

You bit on your lip hard, ignoring his question,

“So um… I wanted to say-“ You tried to keep your voice from cracking, “This is, uh- This is my heads up. I’m in some really fucked up shit, so if you wanted-“ You forced yourself to shrug, “If it’s too much for you, you could leave. No hard feelings, I promise.”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds, and shook his head,

“I’m not leaving.”

“Are you listening to me? I’m dangerous-“

“No, I am listening to you. I just find it ironic that you beat me to it.”

You blinked dumbly “What?”

“This whole speech.” He waved a hand, “Never occurred to you, not even once, did it? That I might be bad for you?”

“I’m not talking about heartbreak.”

“Neither am I,” his voice was way too calm and you turned to look at him, “You really think you’re the only one with enemies here?”

That caused you to fall silent, and you licked your lips, looking him deep in the eye.

“You have enemies?”

He nodded and sipped his own beer,

“Yeah. I’ve got quite a lot, to be honest. And I’m planning to make more.”

“You’re planning to make more enemies.” You repeated, confused, “Why?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the river,

“So, the same thing goes for you,” he stated, “You could leave. No hard feelings.”

For some reason, you could feel the goose bumps rising on your arm and a cold feeling running down your spine, but you ignored it and held out your pinky.

“I won’t if you won’t.”

That seemed to make him smile slightly and he eyed you up and down before entwining his finger with yours.

“Deal.”

Part 9 is up!

1K notes · View notes

alchemistc · 7 years

Text

no paper will conceal it

an: if you thought i would fall into the hole of writing holiday fic for kastle, you were right. title comes from sara bareilles song “love is christmas”.

slightly au in that frank doesn’t kill people, but almost everything else is the same

It’s a terrible idea to chase this story, she knows it even as she leaves her office and heads towards the previously empty lot five blocks from her apartment, the one that had suddenly sprouted a hundred Christmas trees sometime between the hours of 1 AM and 4 AM the morning after Thanksgiving.

Karen doesn’t sleep, much.

It’s been a week, and in that time she’s seen a trail of young looking men hustle nervously towards the lot, disappear into the trees for a bit, and then appear later with heavy, dark duffels under their arms, looking shifty as they disappear into the night. She’s also seen the frankly ridiculously suspicious black van that tends to park there sometime between 4 and 6, and only ever leaves after Karen has gone to bed, long after the one sad string of fairy lights has been turned off and families shopping for trees have tucked in for the evening.

And then there’s the guy.

Still. He’s there, and there’s something going on, and Karen is determined to figure out what it is. The lot has been empty for years, never been used by anyone but a few addicts too strung out to realize it was visible from every direction. A year ago she’d tried to talk to someone about putting a park in there, or maybe start a garden, but she’d been shot down before she’d even made it through her speech, and she hadn’t tried again.

And now, after all this time, suddenly there’s Balsams and Firs and Blue Spruces and more than likely a crime ring, too.

She’d told Ellison she was taking a long lunch to get a tree for her apartment, and the asshole had blinked at her, narrowed his eyes, and then sighed and shrugged. Like he believed her. Like it was believable that Karen Page, who practically lived at the paper and who only spared time for drinks with her friends once every few months and who hadn’t spoken to her parents in half a year was suddenly feeling the Christmas spirit.

What she hadn’t told Ellison was “I think a dude with a creepy van is hustling drugs out of the Christmas tree lot by my apartment” because even to Karen that sounded like a crazy reach.

She stops for coffee at the bodega on the corner just to give herself something to do with her hands, and watches the lot while she rips open packets of sugar.

It’s strange, the way she’s able to watch the swath of humanity pass her by without ever feeling...close to it. She’s been called a bleeding heart more times in her life than she can count, but it’s not that. She’s... perceptive. She sees things. She sees the family rounding the corner, two kids playfully shoving at each other while their parents watch in stony silence, standing just far enough apart that Karen is almost certain dad has been sleeping on the couch for a while. She sees the happy couple wandering by, laughing, hands clasped, and knows that the woman is far more in love than the man. She sees a man in a business suit walk past the homeless guy on the corner, his eyes on his phone and a grimace on his face.

She sees a kid get off his bike and round the fence into the lot, disappearing between the trees, and slides in after him, waiting, wondering if it was really going to be this easy.

She wanders, for a bit, glancing through branches in hopes of catching sight of her would be drug lord or one of his minions, but no such luck. If it were easy, there would be far more people gunning for her job.

The crime beat at the Bulletin isn’t so much sought after as it is a place to stick all the idiots who can’t keep their nose out of anything. Karen, for all that she loves this job, hadn’t actually gone looking for it. She’d stumbled upon it, like most of the idiots who’d come before her, and she lived it and she breathed it but it wasn’t... healthy. She’d chase a lead on two hours of sleep and a vat of caffeine, if she had to, and she’d met more than one source late at night: in empty warehouses, in derelict buildings, in dark parking garages, once on a build site, two floors up and a steel beam between her and a twenty foot drop. And she’d done it all in heels.

Foggy is constantly terrified for her life, but then, so is Karen, and it hasn’t stopped her yet, so she doesn’t expect to be making any concessions for the one friend she still trusts in this city any time soon.

There’s a sort of calm that comes over her, wandering through the trees, her eyes carefully cataloging every face she sees, but it’s not the magic of the season. This is a different sort of peace - the kind that washes over her when she makes a connection no one has made before, when she sends off a final draft to copy, when her byline sends the feds to a piece of shit they hadn’t bothered to check on before. There’s comfort in knowing that her words mean something, in knowing that she can make things happen in a world that mostly just tries to ignore the bad shit that goes on around them every day.

As she’s nearing the back of the lot, she catches the break she’s been looking for. Just beyond the last row of trees, behind the fence they’re leaned against, she hears a door slide open, and a gruff voice mutter something she can’t quite catch.

Karen shuffles closer, to the edge of the lot, ignoring the needles digging into her jacket sleeve, straining to hear what’s being said.

“...better hear you made it to Curt’s tonight, James. I’m not fucking around here, giving handouts.”

“Dude, I got it. Lay off the drill sergeant crap, Castle.”

Karen waits with bated breath. That’s two names, and if she can just lay low long enough to get a plate number off the van...

“You’re gettin a second chance kid. Don’t screw it up.”

“Jesus Christ, man, I said I got it.”

There’s a shuffle, and a small puff of breath, like it’s been knocked out of someone. The first voice, Castle, says something too low for her to hear, but if she had to make a guess, she’s betting a threat is involved. Another shuffle of clothing, the sound of boots on concrete, and then Castle speaks again, loud and clear and barely a yard from where she stands.

“Get out of here before you really piss me off.”

The kid books it, and through the branches she can see the duffel tucked under his arm, but the gate behind her is creaking open and Karen busies herself with looking like a normal, perusing customer.

“Don’t strike me as the Douglas Fir type, ma’am.” Karen swivels in place, nearly sending her coffee flying as her hand drops towards her bag. Castle takes a step back, hands raised. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but there’s a tic in his jaw like he’s thinking about smiling, and Karen takes her first good look at him.

The twelve-times-broken nose she’d caught in profile is more striking up close, an interesting quirk to what might otherwise be a fairly unremarkable face. He’s holding her gaze, big brown eyes blown wide as he slowly lowers his hands back to his sides. He’s got a vaguely military haircut - buzzed sides and an inch or so of growth on the top of his head, and a wide, full mouth that is still threatening to break into a smile.

He doesn’t look like he smiles much, in general, but there’s amusement in his gaze as he takes her in, eyes tracking the fall of her hair over one shoulder and the way her hand is dipped into her pocketbook. He quirks a brow at that.

“You gonna shoot me?”

Karen blinks. “What?”

Castle blinks back, running his tongue over his teeth as he eyes the hand in her bag very deliberately. “Christ, lady, please tell me you have a permit for that.”

“Why would I need a permit for a handbag?”

He sighs, blows a deep breath out through his nose, and rolls his eyes at her, turning his head away with a shake. “Right. Nothing to see here, folks,” he says with an ironic lilt, gesturing around like they aren’t the only two people in the back half of the lot. “You here for a tree or what?”

The amusement is gone from his voice, and Karen narrows her eyes at him, tucks her tongue into her cheek as he purses his lips right back at her. “I can see why you don’t sell the trees yourself.”

“You make it a habit to stake out a place before you buy something?”

Karen pulls in a deep breath, tries not to look caught out, but he’s eyeing her more closely, now, something like recognition registering as he stares at her. He takes a step closer, shooting a daring look at the hand still tucked in her bag.

In a situation like this, most people would bolt in the opposite direction and never return. In the back of her mind, Foggy’s voice is screaming at her to do just that. Karen ignores it and rolls her shoulders back, staying even with his height as he gets closer.

“Page, right? You’re the Bulletin’s golden girl.”

There’s derision in his voice when he says it, his voice rumbling over golden like a swear word, and Karen goes on the defensive.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever you want it to mean.”

“Whatever I want it to - you know, you have a lot of nerve, for a guy who recruits kids to sell for him out of the back of a sketchy van and sells Christmas trees as a cover.”

Castle blinks again, and Karen takes a moment to reassess. This is hardly the first time she’s accused someone of something before she has all the evidence she needs. Some of them have even been bigger and scarier than this guy, but there’s something about the way he shifts from foot to foot, something about the way his eyes drag deep into her skin and dig at her spine, something about the way he’d known about the gun in her bag the moment she’d turned towards him that makes her think that maybe this is one of her more stupid decisions.

The deep chuckle that rumbles from his chest is both unexpected and... comforting. Despite every instinct she has, despite having spent the last week suspecting this man of running drugs out of the back of his sketchy van, Karen feels her guard drop. “You’re fucking crazy, ma’am,” is what he says when he’s done shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “Jesus, you came out here trying to catch a lead on me, didn’t you? You do that a lot? Chase after a story, no backup, not having a damn clue how dangerous someone could be?” Another quick glance at her, and he snorts. “Yeah you do.”

Again, another sad fact of her life is that this is a conversation she’s had in various forms before, but this one is different, somehow. There’s not a hint of threat in his voice, just a vague disbelief, and maybe a hint of regard.

“I work with vets,” he admits, softly, like it’s a secret. “Boys come back without a clue what the hell they’re gonna do now. Lot of ‘em end up barely scraping by, or living on the streets. I uh... buddy of mine runs a couple groups, rents out rooms sometimes.” He ducks his head, bashful now, and runs his hand through his hair again, a nervous tic that five minutes ago she would have assumed was due to him testing out his supply. “I do laundry, when I can. Put together food, and shit. Give ‘em work, try to get them back in the world.”

Karen pulls at her lips with her teeth, raises the hand from her pocketbook to presses it over her lips, and nods her head even as a disbelieving laugh bubbles over. “And that kid, earlier? You were...?”

“Some of ‘em need a little tough love. I assume that’s what you mean. ‘Cause you were listening to us, right?”

Karen tilts her head, suddenly, achingly curious about this man for an entirely new reason. “Yeah. Yeah, I was listening.”

He chuckles, his head shaking back and forth, mutters something under his breath that sounds a whole lot like ‘unbelievable’ and Karen tracks the way his cheeks lift, the way he shifts, again, like maybe he’s thinking of just turning around and walking away. When he lifts his head again to meet her gaze, the smile is still there, and it’s reaching his eyes, too.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Karen stills where she stands, watching his head tilt, something shy and somber behind the smile he wears, something charming about the way he looks at her from beneath his brows. “I just falsely accused you of drug running, and you want to buy me a drink?”

“You got a few screws loose, sure, but you’ve got balls of steel, ma’am.”

Karen is fairly certain she’s never been called ma’am by anyone in her entire life, and she’s never particularly cared for the address, but something about the way his voice rolls over it, gravel and soot rumbling from him - something about it sets her at ease. “It’s the middle of the day.”

“Is that a no?”

“No.”

He chucks his chin up, tilts his head again. “Okay.”

Karen holds his gaze, gives him a crisp nod. “Okay.”

------

“You’re good at this. I can see why the Bulletin keeps you around.” He’s pointing at her with a fry dipped in ketchup, his beer tipped towards his lips with his free hand, and Karen brushes back the curtain of hair that keeps falling into her eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“Page, we’ve been here an hour and I think you know more about me than my old lady ever did. Hell, if we’d had you in intelligence, interrogation might have fucking worked.”

Karen ducks back beneath the curtain of hair and checks the time on her phone. She’s got a missed phone call from Ellison, and a text that is just two question marks - she shoots back a quick ‘Following a lead’ and doesn’t even feel that bad about the lie. It could be a piece, if she wanted it to be - a profile on a war veteran, a think piece on the lives soldiers lead once they return, it could be any number of things, if she wanted it to be.

She doesn’t want it to be.

Frank Castle, former marine, honorably discharged after a bullet tore through his skull. Friendly fire, he’d said, though the tone of his voice said there was more to that story. His wife had died of cancer a year after he got home, and Frank had gone off the deep end, just a bit, drinking heavily, starting bar fights (”Isn’t that a felony?” “Sure is,” he’d responded on a self deprecating grin.), generally kicking up a fuss, and he’d lost custody of two kids, a boy and a girl who lived upstate with their grandparents and saw him on weekends and every other holiday.

He’d started going to his friend Curtis’ group meetings after his court appointed therapist told him if he couldn’t get his shit together he’d never see them again.

“I have a trustworthy face.”

He snorts, his nose wrinkling as he takes a sip of his beer, and Karen bites her lip to keep from smiling too hard.

Outside, the sun is already low in the sky, and the buildings cast the streets in deep shadow. In an hour or so, lights across the city will twinkle to life, bathing the streets in that warm glow that only happens around the holidays. Once upon a time, Karen had loved Christmas - the lights, the families, the overwhelming sense of community they’d had in their tiny little town in Vermont.

“You uh... you doin’ okay there?”

Darting her glance back towards him with a start, Karen starts to nod, and pauses, looking at him in the dull light of the bar. She bites her lip and shakes her head, just once, picking at the label on her bottle. “My brother ran his car off the road two days before Christmas, a few years ago. I uh... it’s hard to get into the spirit anymore, you know? I used to love it. Decorating the tree, driving around the neighborhood to see the lights, going to church on Christmas Eve. I’d wake up early every Christmas morning, even when I got older, and I’d make hot chocolate and sit on the couch with my mug, waiting for everyone else to wake up, just watching the tree.” Blinking through watery eyes, she shoots him a quick smile. "I was a Blue Spruce girl.”

“Maria always took the kids up to cut their own tree. Every time I was home for Christmas, I’d beg her to just get a damn plastic tree. Damn things always got sap and needles everywhere - huge fire hazard too, and I know Frankie and Lisa never watered ‘em. Said she liked the smell, so one year I bought a fake tree and about twenty of those Christmas tree candles.”

“It’s not the same,” she tells him, almost admonishing, and he laughs. His laugh a short, quick laugh, a little rough around the edges like he’s not used to it, like it has to fight his way up and out of his chest.

“That’s what she said. Never even took the thing out of the box. We were up there, very next day, sawing down a tree while Lisa threw snowballs at us.”

“So the trees...”

His head tilts in consideration before he gives her a sharp nod. “They tell me it’s a healthier way to mourn than breaking my knuckles on strangers faces.”

“If I promise to water it, can I get you to tough love one of your guys into lugging a tree five blocks and up three flights of stairs?”

His stare is a little wistful as he takes her in, but there’s an edge to it, too. Something careful, and considering, and not for the first time since he’d startled her that afternoon Karen wonders what he sees, when he looks at her. Not the broken girl who’d left her family behind because she couldn’t face her loss, not the hardass reporter who always got her story regardless of the cost. A few times she’s held his gaze long enough to feel like he’s staring into her soul.

Karen shrugs around his questioning look. “Maybe I need to learn to mourn a little better, too.”

------

Frank ends up loading a tree onto the van a week later, grumbling the entire way up the stairs, muttering about sap all the way down the hallway, and Karen can’t help the laugh that tumbles out of her when he insists on getting the thing set up for her once it’s there. She’d gone down to Macy’s, dropped far too much of her paycheck on string lights and baubles, and she unloads them while he grunts and curses in the corner by her window.

When she invites him to stay for dinner he only hesitates for a few seconds, and then insists on paying the kid who delivers a bag of Thai food twenty minutes later.

It’s easy, toeing off her shoes and settling on her couch next to him, flipping through channels until one of them makes a noise of approval around the food in their mouths. He drinks her shitty rose out of a mug with a llama on it, and makes sarcastic comments under his breath that sometimes make her wheeze with laughter, and when they’ve demolished the food he helps her string the lights around the tree.

“Maria’s parent’s have the kids for Christmas this year,” he admits on his third mug of wine, and Karen reaches across the length of the tree to curl her hand in his. He squeezes back, and for a while the string of lights illuminate their faces as they stare at each other. He’s got a scar, just above his ear, one she hadn’t noticed until the lights hit it just right, and without a thought her hand reaches up to trace it, fingers curling up and then around his ear, and his eyes dip low, almost closing, lashes fluttering and casting sharp shadows along his cheeks.

“You could come here. I usually get shitfaced the moment I get off the phone with my mom and pass out to It’s A Wonderful Life.”

“Sounds pretty fuckin maudlin,” he tells her, eyes fluttering back open, back she doesn’t move her hand, and he tilts his face into her palm.

She’s three glasses in herself, and her laughter sounds loud in her apartment, the heady mixture of food and wine and lights and Frank making her feel bubbly and loose and... happy. “Maudlin?”

“I know words.”

She chuckles, again, and leans across the space between them, ducks her forehead against his own and just breathes for a moment.

“Is that a no?”

From this position, she can see the tilt of his lip as it turns up. “No.”

Karen blows a breath out through her nose, slides her hand down to curl around his neck, where she can feel his pulse rushing beneath his skin. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

------

She pitches Ellison a profile on Curtis Hoyle, two hours after she meets him on Christmas Eve, and over the phone she can hear him raise his eyebrows. “Not your usual thing.”

“I’m branching out, Ellison. Aren’t you always telling me to dig deep?”

“Draft on my desk by the end of the week, then.”

“Can’t,” she tells him, while Frank traces a whimsical pattern up her arm and presses his lips into her neck. “I’m busy this week.”

“What have you done to Karen Page?”

“It’s a...family thing,” she tells him, and sucks in a deep breath when Frank nips at her collarbone.

“Heading to Vermont for the week?”

“Nope.”

“Well this is all very confusing and I’ve had too much scotch to make sense of it, but I’ll figure this out eventually. I’ll see you after New Years.”

“Merry Christmas, Mitch.” For the first time in years, the words are slightly more than a platitude meant to appease the masses.

“Merry Christmas, Page.”

Frank drops her phone off the side of the couch the moment she hangs up, and Karen can’t find it in her to mind.

#kastle #kastle ff #kastle fic #holiday fic #kastle au

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banditthewriter · 5 years

Text

Two For One - Billy Russo

Based off of this post, this is just a short little thing. It’s really weird to write something based off of your own life this closely, btw, but it was also kind of fun? So hope you like it!

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif is mine*

Enjoy!

*****

The day had started off so well. You had gotten to work on time despite the train being delayed, you had your favorite pasta for lunch, and you had even planned to go see your brother after work. It was a good day.

And then the douchebag arrived. You weren't sure why he had come to the paper unless he was placing a classified ad for a woman with low standards, but it was up to you to watch him since he couldn't be alone in the office.

He took this to mean you were into him. He talked about his car and his job and honestly you stopped listening, but he didn't seem to notice. Or care.

You did notice when he told you he was going to take you out.

"I'm gonna take you to dinner. Show you a good time."

You tried not to gag as you gave him a polite smile.

"Thanks, but I'm in a relationship."

It was a lie, but he didn't need to know that. And indeed he didn't seem to care.

"I didn't ask if you were in a relationship. I said I'm gonna take you out, so that's what I'm gonna do." He grinned at you as if he could sense your discomfort and it pleased him. "I'll be here at five to pick you up."

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Thankfully the coworker that was helping him came back so you were able to get away. Once you were at your desk, you grabbed your phone to call your friend and your brother's girlfriend.

"Karen. You will not believe what just happened."

You laid the story out for her, being sure to detail just how creepy this guy was. Karen seemed aghast by the whole situation.

"That's disgusting. I hate guys like that." She huffed out a breath and you could imagine the disgust on her face. "What are you going to do?"

Well. You hadn't thought about that.

"I guess I'll see if the publisher can walk me out? You know Terry, she's terrifying."

You meant that with nothing but respect. You loved your publisher.

"No offense to Terry, but I think this needs a bit of a different approach. Guys like that don't care what a woman says or wants. He might only respond to a male."

You bit your lip as you thought about your colleagues. None of the men you worked with were exactly intimidating.

"Frank would be willing to help," Karen offered suddenly.

You winced. You hadn't wanted to tell your big brother about it because you knew what would happen. He would have the grenade launcher with him if he thought you were in danger.

"I don't know," you said timidly as you looked around the office. "I don't want him to worry about me."

Karen scoffed.

"Tell him. If you don't, I will, and then he'll be really pissed."

And you knew she'd do it too. You promised to let Frank know what was going on before you hung up. You hesitated for a moment before you brought up the group chat that you were in with Frank, Karen, and Billy.

You: Well you'll never guess how my day has been.

Frank: Did someone misspell organism again? Bill laughed at that for about a week

Billy: They had orgasm on the front page! In an article about the environment. It was pretty hilarious

You: No, no typos.

You: Actually I was asked out on a date. And when I told the guy no, that I had a bf, he basically said he wasn't asking and that he'd be outside waiting for me when I got off work.

You waited for a response. The bubbles appeared to show that each of them were typing at different times but no responses just yet.

After a few minutes of catching up on your work, you checked your phone to see their replies.

Frank: WHAT THE FUCK

Frank: who is this asshole?

Billy: That's fucked. Who was this guy?

Billy: what time do you get off work?

Frank: she gets off at 5

Billy: Frankie and I will handle this Y/N, don't worry

You weren't worried. Or well, now you were.

You: Please don't get into trouble over this. He's just some jerk. I'll have security walk me out and to the subway.

Frank: And have him come back? Not happening

Billy: We'll be there

They didn't respond when you sent requests to know what their plan was. You called each of them but they didn't answer. Then you pulled up a private thread with Karen.

You: Did you see the group chat?

Karen: Yeah

You: And you're not gonna try to help me stop it?

Karen: If I didn't have to be here for an interview at my paper, I'd be there with them. Guys like that deserve what they get

Yeah, you should have known she'd say that.

You leaned back in your desk chair and groaned. This was going to be an interesting afternoon.

------

You didn't even make it all the way through the day. Three minutes before five, you had packed up and were headed to the door. Your coworkers that had had the same idea were all hovering as they stared uncertainly out through the door.

"They look a little imposing," one of your coworkers said quietly.

"Also kind of hot," another one added with a grin. "Especially the one in the sunglasses."

You looked around the women and nearly swore at what you saw. Your brother and Billy Russo were side by side, leaning against the fence that lined the building's property.

"Crap," you said as you pushed through the women to go outside.

Billy noticed you first. He nudged Frank's arm and the two of them stood up as one to head towards you.

You could see they each had a knife on them. Hopefully they hadn't brought a gun on the property. And… did Frank have brass knuckles?

Jesus this was a mess.

You glanced around the parking lot to make sure that no one was there to witness this, but that revealed one thing you had hoped not to see. The douchebag from earlier had pushed off from his car and headed over towards you. You didn't have more than a second to decide this was going to suck before two shadows were cast over your shoulders.

"That's close enough," Frank said in a tone that made smart men scared. Douchebag just frowned. "You really need to learn to take no for an answer."

"And if you have to stalk a woman to get a date, maybe you should take that as a sign," Billy added with a smirk, tucking his sunglasses into the collar of his shirt.

The guy scoffed, looking between the two men that stayed at your side. You weren't sure if he had picked up on the fact that these were trained Marines that could kill him without blinking, but he had to pick up on the fact that they were dangerous.

"You need to leave this property and not come back. I'm willing to let this go," Frank said in a low voice.

You were surprised by that. Honestly he usually never let anything go. That he would allow this absolute asshole that opportunity told you that Frankie was trying for your sake.

The guy looked away from Frank and straight at you. You had a feeling his next words would seal his fate.

"You fuck both of them or just the big guy?"

Frank stepped forward but you darted out to grab his arm.

"That's my baby sister you sick son of a bitch," he swore even as you yanked on his arm to get him to step backwards.

Billy stepped up to stand in front of Frank, giving half of his back to the douchebag but still alert just in case. He put his hand on Frank's shoulder until Frank looked at him.

"We're outside of a newspaper Frank," Billy said with a grin, "and I'll need a haircut and a shave before they get my picture on the front page."

Frank was still seething but he let you and Billy push him back a few more feet. Then he leaned around Billy to offer one last parting shot.

"I'll remember your face asshole. Come around her or this place again and I'll find you. That's a promise."

The guy looked a little worried at that. Maybe he finally recognized your brother as a threat. Either way, he tucked his tail and ran.

You and Billy got Frank to the car. Once he was in the passenger seat, Billy gave you a wide grin.

"Happy to see us?"

You felt warmth spreading in the pit of your stomach.

"Always," you said with a sigh, opening the door to the back seat. "Get me home before one of my coworkers tries to interview us."

Billy laughed all the way to the driver's seat.

------

Frank was on the phone with one of his buddies, someone who could look into this guy for you. You had told him it wasn't necessary, that they'd scared him off, but he wasn't taking any chances.

Billy handed you a beer with a roll of his eyes.

"He doesn't get to play the protective big brother much," he said with a grin as he settled into the couch beside you. "And he was pretty pissed off about the whole thing."

You smiled as you watched Frank gear up into another rant. You almost felt bad for whoever he was talking to.

"He's a good guy."

Billy's grin wavered a bit as he lifted his own beer for a sip. You felt like he'd wanted to say something to you since you all got to his place but he hadn't. This was the first time he'd approached you since you got in the car.

"You said you had a boyfriend. Frankie, uh, never told me you were dating someone."

You thought back to the group message but you couldn't remember what you had said. Instead you shook your head.

"No. I mean, that's what I told him, but just because I know some guys will respect another guy's claim over what the woman wants which is disgusting. But no, I'm uh, not seeing anyone right now."

You quickly took a sip from your beer in the hopes that it would cool you off a bit. Talking to Billy about your love life was a strange occurrence. He was best friends with your brother, sure, but you'd had a crush on him for a long time. And that crush had probably just gotten stronger over the years.

"Huh, well that's…" Billy shrugged his shoulder and looked away. "Did you have someone in mind? To play your fake boyfriend?"

Yeah, but it's not like you could tell Billy that. You weren’t going to cross that line.

"Because uh, if you ever need someone to step in like that, you can always call me."

And have Billy pretend to be your boyfriend? You weren't so sure that would be a good idea.

"I appreciate the offer, but I don't think a fake boyfriend would be a good idea."

Because you doubted you could pretend even for a few moments that you were dating Billy without wanting it to be real.

"Well we could try it for real, you know, just to see."

You looked at Billy and caught the beginning of a grin as he lifted his bottle again. You were a little thrown, not sure if he was being serious or not.

Surely not? Surely he wasn't actually—

"He's asking you out on a date," Frank said from across the room. "About damn time too because I'm tired of you idiots mooning after each other."

He was grinning as he said it. Then he launched right back into his rant with his buddy on the phone.

"You're asking me out?"

Billy smiled as he looked you over.

"Seems like we got Frankie's blessing. What do you say Y/N? Wanna go out on a date with me?"

"Yes!"

As if you were ever going to turn him down.

And hey, maybe the next time you got hit on by some creep, you could just call your boyfriend and let him handle it. You had a feeling Billy would quite enjoy that.

Let me know if you want to be added to my Permanent Tag List @hermioneshandbag @onebatch--twobatch @smiley-celine @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @starless-skyox @youveseen--thebutcher @citation-is-here @mightymelly @realduckvader @1550kilogramsofsilver @hxbbit @rockintensse @missphanosaur18 @thepuffyeyedpuff @the-three-eyed-ravenclaw @yessy2012 @gingerstarlight @siriusement @marauderskeeper @xinyourdreamsx @wickidlady @sassygirl25 @maraudereestauderelb @rainyboul @cutie-bug @random-quartz @holamor @lea----b @heyitslexy @detectivebourbon @coffeenmoscato @presstocontinue @elisemockingbird @assbuttwithwings @geeksareunique @siriuslovesmarlene @witch-of-letters @delicatelilyflower @l-l-c-m-w-b @whovianayesha @hiddenprincess @yannii04 @jeanettexkillian @brighteststarinthesky @kilyra @gallxntdean @sweetvengeancee @lady1505 @thedarklightwithinus @ateliefloresdaprimavera @siriuslyimmoony @elodieyung @fudgeflyss @madamrogers @thatwrestlingfan91 @teranya @sophiabulbu69 @delusionsofnostalgia @effielumiere @mamaraptor @hot-and-spiceyyy @i-padfootblack-things @aya-fay @fcavalerro @starkrobb @raquelbc2003 @iwishyoucouldbekissed @tamanamohain @newtstarmander @suchatinyinfinity @blushingskywalker @queencocoakimmie @funerals-with-cake @love-dria @arrowswithwifi @swiftyhowlz @cheyfleur @dark-night-sky-99 @margot-black @celestegolden @king4thesirens @beautifuldesastre @ashkuuuu @luminex3 @nerdypinupcrystal @iblogabout-stuff @curlyhairedblueeyedangel @myplaceofheavenorhell @nea90sweetie @traeumerinwitzhelden @lexxierave @binbons-is-theloml @lostinthoughts23 @cafeconsoya @kryyta @russosprettydiamondnow @dorkybryan @mahalobro @yesixoxo

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#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #my writing #requests #kinda

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insecwrites · 7 years

Text

Excuses and Writing notes

Summary; Larry Needlemeyer is an underappreciated hard worker, and life has dealt him bad hand after bad hand. He hasn't been okay for a very long time, and he can no longer see a way out of the pit of depression he is in. He tries, and he does his best, but without any help, he is not going to succeed. tl;dr: How the heck does Larry cope with doing all the work and getting no thanks? He doesn't.

Warning; suicide attempt

Read on AO3

Coming home was a rare luxury to Larry Needlemeyer.

Technically, he had every Sunday off – a wonderful 24 hours to do whatever he needed to keep himself standing during the rest of the week. Things like eating a meal that wasn’t a leftover from Joyful Burger, and sleeping on a matrass instead of trying to sleep behind a cash register without anyone noticing. Sadly, the last three weeks there had been emergencies on the job. Or, well, all of them. Ice cream machines breaking down, a robbery, an aisle of winebottles falling over, an alarm going off, an insect infestation….

Larry hadn’t seen his bed in so long that his hands were shaking, and that there were dark shadows moving around in his peripheral vision.

His home was small and underkept. His feet kicked through the small pile of bills that had collected behind his door, and landed in the puddle of water that came from the one leak that never seemed to go away. There was a definite reason as to why his apartment was one of the cheapest in Elmore.

In about one hour, he had the night shift at the Gas station. It was on the other side of town, so detracting the amount of traveling time, he would have a nice 45 minutes of rest.

He didn’t feel like sleeping, in all honesty. It wasn’t restful. His dreams, if you could even call them that, were like an endless loop of his jobs. Tasks he had to repeat over and over, the worst parts of his customers blended together, endless performance interviews with all his bosses. And when he woke up he’d get to do it all again in real life.

He slipped open his phone, and winced at the sharp blue light. It was late. Karen would, in all likelihood, still be asleep, but Larry wasn’t sure when he’d get another chance to send her a message. His schedule was packed, and he couldn’t take days off. There’d been an ‘incident’ in the pet store, and all the lost animals ( and their catch fees ) were going to get subtracted from his wage.

She had been distant lately. Larry knew what that meant, and he wasn’t… he wasn’t really surprised. He pulled out his plastic flip-chair, and sat down. The plastic creaked ominously, but it held.

Even as he typed a quick message asking how her day was, and that he loved her, he knew that he’d been neglecting her. Not wilfully, but just…. There was no time. He had no more energy in his body. Even just the act of typing a small message felt like a herculean effort after a day of yelling customers and scrubbing floors on hands and knees.

He sent the message, and put his phone back into his pocket. He wasn’t sure how long she was going to keep indulging him in their engagement. He’d had to sell the ting he’d planned on proposing to her with, just to keep his apartment. He’d saved up money again, but then there’d been that robbery of the bank… Gone were his savings.

“What isn’t gone, at this point.” He mumbled to himself.

He closed his eyes, and measured his fatigue. Despite the lead that had settled in his limbs and head, he knew it was going to take a while before he fell asleep.

He forced his eyes open again, and scooted his chair a little closer to his table. He might as well continue trying to write his suicide note. He didn’t want to come across as one of those people that blamed the world for his suffering and loneliness. He didn’t really want to invoke pity, but it didn’t feel right to just go and leave nothing behind. Writing a suicide note with those criteria was surprisingly difficult. His trash-pile ( no money for a bin after the last one got lost ) was full of unfinished and rejected drafts.

At least he’d finally come to a decision about the method, and that already really helped. As a rock, bleeding out had never been an option, but strangulation had been pretty high on his list. It felt perverse and bad to admit it, but there was something like a feeling of satisfaction in him whenever he imagined someone walking in on his corpse. His boss maybe, or his landlord. They’d knock on the door, wanting to collect their money, or rip him a new one for not showing up at his job. The door would get forced open, and then they’d see him dangling from his ceiling fan.

Larry glanced up at the broken pole of the ceiling fan in the middle of his living room, and sighed. The one time he worked up enough courage to do it, and of course he’d turn out to be too heavy.

He’d thought of poisoning, but apparently a lot of people survived that if they were found in time. With Larry’s employers, he’d be lucky if these 45 minutes weren’t getting interrupted for a clean-up on aisle 3. Drowning had been an idea too, but again the internet had proven a valuable tool. It was apparently the least fun way to go, and could lead to serious brain damage if you got saved in time.

Freezing to death, was apparently the nicest death. Larry hadn’t even had to try that one on his own to find out that it wasn’t an option. Richard Watterson had, despite the restraining order, come into the Joyful burger for another meal. And in doing whatever it is the rabbit was doing, he had locked the Joyful Burger’s freezer behind Larry’s back. It had been discovered very quickly, but in another stroke of misfortune, the doorlock had gotten stuck, and it had taken almost a full 24 hours to get him out. He’d been making peace with his death, and wishing his job had allowed him to have his phone on him during work, so he could message Karen during his final moments.

About 11 hours after losing the sensation of touch in his body and hearing his joints crack as if there was ice between them, Larry had realised that he was immune to the cold. Immune enough not to die from it, anyway. He’d gotten very sick, and he’d had to work while feeling like he was going to faint at any moment.

So, he had finally settled on jumping from a high building. Or maybe the bridge. If he jumped from high enough, his body would snap into a dozen pieces, and end it all in an instant. And even though some people might recognise his body, and realise what he’d done, to most people he’d look like a small collection of broken rocks, and some clothes. He still had to decide if he wanted to wear one of his nametags.

But first, the actual note.

Larry bit on the end of his pencil, and stared down at the letter he’d started the last time he’d had some time.

Dear Karen,

I hope you were not the one to find me. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I know I’ve been neglecting you and everyone else. I’m not sad, or convinced that the world is unliveable, or something. I’m just too tired to keep going, and I don’t know how to get out of the circle I live in. I know you’ve been seeing other people

Larry grabbed the paper, and scrunched it up. He didn’t want to blame Karen, or make her feel bad, but… well, he didn’t want to kill himself over just one aspect of his life. It was an amalgamation of things that made every waking moment a slog.

He grabbed a new piece of paper, and began again.

Dear Karen,

I’m sorry. I know I’m leaving you alone, and with a lot of guitl, and I never meant for this to happen, but I just can’t hold up anymore. You’re the only good thing in my life, and I know that you’ve been looking for a way out

“No, no no.” He grumbled to himself, and he shoved the letter to the side for a new one. This time, he didn’t add Karen’s name.

I know this might seem a little drastic. I’m just working some extra jobs right? No reason to go and kill yourself, to a lot of people.

My parents died… quite some time ago, and my little sister too. It was a house fire. And I KNOW. I KNOW that rocks are usually pretty good at surviving a fire, okay? It was the firemen. Mom and dad went in to get Rosetta from her room, and the fire had heated them all up, and when they came out, the firemen hit them with cold water from the hose

Larry stopped writing, and wiped at his eyes. Images from their funeral flashed in his mind. They had burst, and… and nobody had quite been able to identify which parts belonged to whom. So in the end, he’d chosen to bury them in one coffin, just to be sure that he wasn’t filling three graves with a mishmash of three different people.

He’d never been in debt before their death. He hadn’t had it large, but his parents had sent him pocket money whenever things got tight. “You’ll work your way up. Slow and Steady, as Needlemeyers do. Then, when you get a fat Payroll as a CEO of some company or the other, you can start thinking about paying us back.”

I never wanted to disappoint you, mom, dad. I never…. I work a ton of jobs, and I work them hard, but I’m not moving up. I don’t have the money for good food, or for a nice night out every once in a while. My fiancée, she loves me, but I can’t

Larry was so tired. He knew the route to the roof of his apartment block. The door up was technically locked, but Larry had the key. He was the one they sent up to fix the TV reception when it was on the fritz, after all. He often stood at a short distance of the railing, and looked down at the parking lot below. A good six floors down, he knew that the ground would split his head like a ripe watermelon. Leaving the unfinished note, he pushed back his chair and left his apartment. He didn’t bother locking the door as he headed to the stairwell, and grabbed the key for the door that locked away the roof.

A few blank moments later, he was standing near the edge again, looking down. The cloudy night didn’t allow for the moonlight to reach Elmore, but the sputtering streetlights were plenty enough to see by. On the parkinglot below, there were marks of where Larry had dropped rocks to see if they would split.

“Karen loves me.” Larry said out loud to himself. “I can’t do this to her.” His own voice sounded blank and stilted to his ears, but he had to finish writing his letter. His suicide note. He had to find a way to write down what he felt, so that she wouldn’t suffer after hearing that he’d killed himself.

“She would be sad.” Larry bit on his thumb, hard enough to hurt. “She would wonder if I killed myself because of her, and she would feel horrible. And I don’t want that.”

Didn’t he?

Larry looked down, his knees feeling like overcooked spaghetti, and he imagined his own broken body on the parkinglot below, with Karen kneeling next to her. He imagined her crying, perhaps trying to rearrange the broken bits of his corpse back together like a puzzle. He imagined her losing her smile, for weeks on end, and tears springing to her eyes at the mere mention of his name.

He imagined his bosses, perhaps under the fire of a public outrage. People demanding better healthcare for people working in low end jobs, holding up posters of his face. He imagined all the people who yelled at him as he did his job, now devoid of joy, feeling guilty for his death. Almost as if they had murdered him.

Larry stopped. He had stepped closer to the edge, and the tips of his shoes were peeking over the edge.

“That’s not… that’s not helping.” He said to himself. “Karen – I don’t want to hurt Karen, and that means I have to finish my note. So she understands.”

The excuse felt weaker every time he used it. Someday, even the idea of hurting Karen was not going to be enough to make him step back. The allure of just taking a step forwards was terrifying and exhilarating at once. Once he made that step, he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. He’d never see Karen again, and he wouldn’t have to see her cry. He’d never have to face the consequences of what he was about to do, and he’d be free to sleep and be at peace, forever.

And Karen was so nice – she would understand, she wouldn’t take it out on him – she would know he wanted her to move on!

Shaking like a leaf, Larry shuffled closer to the edge. Tired as he was, even just a short moment of low blood sugar would be enough to send him to his death. He closed his eyes, and continued shuffling forward, wondering when his balance would give out-

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

The sound of a phone alarm going off had Larry almost jumping off the railing, and his heart jumped into his throat as vertigo hit him. Stumbling back, he fished his phone out of his pocket, hands trembling hard enough that it took him three tries to slide the pick-up icon to the right.

“H-hello?”

“Larry, where are you! Someone has left three packs of mozzarella in a panini maker and turned it on! It’s HUGE mess, why aren’t you cleaning it up yet!?”

“It’s my break, sir.” Larry replied automatically. “I still have about –“

“I don’t give two flying birdcakes about your break. Get over here or you are fired!” There was an audible noise as his boss slammed down his phone, and then a short grumble before the old fuzzball remembered how to exit a call from a smartphone.

Shaken, Larry trembled his way down the stairs, past the open door of his apartment, and onto the street. It had been quite some time since he’d felt so…. So alive. So disconnected from the slog. The route to his job was brought into a sharp contrast, now that he had looked death in the eyes.

As he entered his job, and stepped through the melted mozzarella towards the flaming paninimaker in the back of the Joyful Burger, he knew that he had earned some more time to work on his note for Karen. It was going to take a while before he dared to go up there again.

He began cleaning the mozzarella from the paninimaker, as he heard the tell-tale ding of a customer entering despite the ‘We are CLOSED’ sign on the front door.

“Welcome to Joyful Burger sir. How can I help you?”

#drabble #amazing world of gumball #tawog #larry #larry needlemeyer #suicide #insecwrites #stupid angst

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nervyghost · 7 years

Text

The Dragon in the Box (6 out of ?)

Sherlock could see Lestrade standing on the street corner, and walked past him in a huff, not stopping to even say hello. He stormed into the flat and knelt beside the body, pulling a magnifying glass from his pocket with a cross expression plastered on his face. The Doctor’s unsure footsteps stopped short in front of the wall she was sluped against.

It was a young woman, she couldn't have been older than eighteen. She was wearing a bright yellow artist's smock and the wall her upper half was pressed against a wall which held a beautiful mural depicting an intricate rose. Vibrant hues stained her fingertips, and she was still smiling faintly, she had most likely been attacked from behind.

Her floor was splattered with paints and her brushes were still in her cold hands. Brunette hair was splayed around her head like a halo. It was quite a pity really, such a waste of young life. The Doctor suddenly stood, his back to Sherlock. Sherlock became aware of an odd whirring noise. He went to peer over The Doctor's shoulder, but he wasn't quick enough. The noise had stopped the second that he'd stood. He scowled deeply, but decided to poke around the crime scene a little bit more. John stood next to him but didn't speak, well aware of the detective's bad mood.Sherlock stared at the body in silence, his face the very picture of frustration. John leaned in Sherlock's direction. "What do we know about artist girl?" He whispered.

"She, like the last victim, was new in the neighborhood. She's about eighteen and akin to the other corpse, is single. Her parents are either poor, or didn't really care about her, causing her not to have many belongings to pack. She isn't paid much either." John frowned, and Sherlock could practically hear his little brain trying its best to work out the puzzle. Sherlock allowed him a minute before beginning his explanation. "The age thing was an estimate as usual, and she has no traces of an engagement ring and nobody was here helping her which would suggest her relationship status is less than stellar. But, if you would direct your attention to the phone at her side, the placement of it would suggest that she was indeed texing someone to ask them over. That's who Lestrade is dealing with at this very moment in fact. The entire house is empty yet again, save for a few scattered boxes holding her belongings. She is young and doesn't have much. Usually, the parents would gift her items of use or worth, but she doesn't seem to have much of value. The paint she is using is cheaply made, as well as the brushes and the smock is much too big. That would suggest that although she is extraordinarily talented, she doesn't have much to invest in her passion."

He chanced a look at The Doctor to find him still looking at the wall, deep in thought, now wearing a brown pair of spectacles. He thought he saw the shine of tears in his eyes. He finally tore his gaze away and focused in on the body, his head bowed slightly to try and hide his sadness. Sherlock almost felt pity for him, but didn't want to let his guard down. Although he may be a monster, he could still cry.

"What was her name?" He asked quietly. The question caught Sherlock off guard, as he hadn't expected The Doctor to care about the case. The voice of Lestrade suddenly broke the silence.

"Karen, Karen Tyler." The Doctor inhaled sharply at the word Tyler. Sherlock whirled around as he hadn't noticed Lestrade enter the room. "And all your deductions were right by the way, right down to her parents not caring about her." The Doctor looked at Lestrade, a forced smile on his face.

"Hello, I'm The Doctor." He extended his hand as a greeting. Lestrade shook it, making eye contact with Sherlock as he did so.

"Have you gone and made yourself another friend?" He asked, a slight tone of amusement in his voice. Sherlock stiffened at the comment.

"No, not a friend. A suspect." Lestrade raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything. He looked to John for clarification on the statement.

"He and Donna moved in downstairs, new tenants." Lestrade nodded, but in a way that meant he wanted more information. "And Sherlock thinks that The Doctor's the one killing people." The Doctor was looking at the wall again, putting his hand up against the delicate petals as if looking for something that wasn't there.

"Yeah, I can see that. He's watching him like a hawk." Sherlock shifted his focus back to Lestrade.

"How's her boyfriend taking her death?" Lestrade gaped for a moment before composing himself.

"He's pretty choked up, he got really emotional. He didn't want to see her though, but who can blame him?" The Doctor nodded.

"Losing someone is hard." Donna looked sympathetic, she clearly knew why he was so distressed. Sherlock moved so he was standing next to The Doctor, now back to examining the wall. He then whispered so only The Doctor could hear.

"Was her name Rose Tyler?" He sighed, a far-away look in his eyes. He inclined his head to acknowledge what Sherlock had said.

"Yeah." Lestrade cleared his throat,

"Her parents are waiting outside, they want to talk to you." Sherlock turned and strode down the stairs, John following close behind. Once they were out of earshot of The Doctor and Donna, John pulled him aside.

"What did you tell him?" Sherlock pretended to act confused.

"Who?" John frowned.

"The Doctor! You said something to him and he broke, what was it?"

"I just asked him a question, John."

"And what might that be?"

"If her name was Rose Tyler." John looked unsure of what to say.

"If who's name was Rose?"

"The friend he lost. Didn't you see the way he was looking at the painting? Or how he tensed up when Lestrade mentioned that her last name was Tyler?" John furrowed his brow and pushed open the door, shaking his head slightly.

"You can't just ask people things like that Sherlock." Sherlock opened his mouth to interject, but John cut him off. "And I don't care if he isn't human, he clearly cared about this Rose a whole lot, how do you think it would feel to have it brought up again?! What if someone you cared about died and somebody you barely knew asked you about it!?"

"He was already crying..." He mumbled. "And I didn't think he'd get so emotional over his victi-"

"Look, maybe you should ease off a little. Give him some room to breathe, alright?" Sherlock examined the floor.

"Why should I do that?"

"Maybe he'd be more open with someone he trusts, Donna clearly knows what's going on with him." Sherlock considered this carefully, he hated to admit it, but John did have a point.

"Fine." John looked at him with a critical eye.

"Promise?" Sherlock didn't break eye-contact for what seemed like an eternity.

"Yes, I promise." John seemed to be satisfied with that, and held the door open.

"You have any idea what to say to her parents?" Sherlock tightened his scarf.

"Not a clue, but I'm sure I'll think something up."

The Doctor watched the pair of them from the upstairs window, thinking hard. Donna gently rested her hand on his arm. "You okay?" She asked, her concern showing in her voice. The Doctor removed his glasses and tucked them into his pocket.

"Oh, you know me... I'll manage." She smiled slightly.

"Yeah, you'll manage alright." The Doctor gestured to Sherlock and John.

"Should we go see what they're up to?"

"It's probably best to give him a minute." Donna and The Doctor both turned to Lestrade, who shuffled his feet a little before continuing. "He seemed pretty cross earlier, I should probably go and make sure he doesn't start a blood feud." The Doctor nodded.

"Fair point." Lestrade turned to leave, stealing a glance at the other two.

"You can't touch anything, or Sherlock'll flip." Donna smiled crookedly,

"Yeah, he would." With that, Lestrade left the two of them alone in the room, stealing one last glance at them before clomping down the stairs. The second he left, The Doctor started pacing, clearly thinking something over.

"He still thinks I'm a murderer! AND AN ALIEN!"

"Yeah, but you are an alien." The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair,

"Yeah, but Sherlock shouldn't know that." It was really bugging him that Sherlock seemed to have a one-up on him, and he didn't even know how he knew!

"You should probably stay in your human shape in here..." She could always tell when he was on the verge of turning off the projection, and usually, it was fine. Not many people questioned a dragon, but she had a feeling Sherlock wouldn't take it too well.

"Yeah... Good point. He'd probably figure out it was me because I'd scratch the floor or something..." Donna smiled,

"And you're sure you're alright?"

"Yeah... Like I said, I'll manage." Donna took his arm and started walking to the door.

"C'mon, let's see what he's up to." She personally wasn't a fan of the sad mood, and she figured he needed something to distract himself with. He resisted for a moment, but gave in to her constant pull, following her down the stairs and out the door. Sherlock and John stood a couple yards away, along with a man in a fancy sports car. They weren't quite close enough to hear the conversation, but the man in the car was slowly going red.

"SHE RAN AWAY AND REFUSED OUR HELP! CAN YOU GET THAT THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULL!?" Sherlock seemed to be struggling to keep calm, his jaw set.

"How long had she been gone?" The man opened his mouth to yell some more, but then realized what Sherlock had said.

"About a week..."

"How come all of her things were still in boxes?" The man seemed to think this over, and was about to say something when Sherlock cut him off. "Nope, that's wrong."

"How could you-"

"You were going to suggest that she didn't have the time to unpack, correct?" The man ran his fingers through his sandy hair.

"Well yes, bu-"

"That would be wrong, she had time to paint that mural, didn't she?" Sherlock suddenly spun to face The Doctor and Donna. His expression going sour. The Doctor strode over to him, smiling slightly.

"That she did, but did you consider that the mural was her first priority?" Sherlock scowled, but The Doctor could tell he was considering his point. The man looked to The Doctor, seemingly confused.

"And... Who might this be?" The Doctor grinned broadly,

"Hello, I'm The Doctor. Mr. Tyler I presume?" Mr. Tyler nodded, still slightly confused. Sherlock took a deep breath,

"Judging by the fact that a few boxes were slightly unpacked, that would make your statement correct." He seemed reluctant to admit that The Doctor was right, which made Donna smile. "However..." He continued, "The painting was layered over a period of about a week, with plenty of time to dry. What do you propose that she used her spare time for?" His voice had a challenging tone to it, as if daring The Doctor to continue.

"Well, you said she had a boyfriend, yeah? And she's new in the neighborhood, so she's probably been acquainting herself with the surrounding area." They were getting competitive now, both facing each-other with determination. John and Donna stood next to each other, neither really wanting to intervene, watching the fireworks safely from the sidelines.

"That... Would make sense..." Sherlock was slowly backing down. The Doctor let him back off, a smug smile creeping onto his face. Sherlock turned in a huff to Mr. Tyler. "You can go now." He snapped. The man looked like he was going to say something else, but Sherlock's withering glare convinced him to keep quiet. He sped away without looking back. Lestrade shook his head.

"Maybe you should be a little nicer to your clients?"

"Your case. Your client. You just called me to come." With that, he turned on his heel and stormed off. John looked between Sherlock and The Doctor before pursuing his partner down the street. Lestrade looked to The Doctor, a sympathetic expression in his eyes.

"Good luck with that." The Doctor smiled,

"Ah, what can he do? He's stuck with me!" Lestrade chuckled,

"You do seem to be more than a match for him, that's for sure." Donna stared down the street, watching John and Sherlock until they disappeared from view. The Doctor smiled at Lestrade,

"We should probably be off, still moving in after all!" Lestrade nodded, and the pair of them sauntered off down the sidewalk.

"Well, that went well." The Doctor snickered, his mood clearly improved.

"Could've been worse, not gonna lie." They walked at a brisk pace, chatting absently about past adventures and mishaps. The Doctor suddenly squinted at something in the distance, "Oh boy..." Donna craned her neck.

"What?"

"Don't look now, but I think that's John and Sherlock over there." He gestured to a park bench across the street. Sure enough, the detective and his partner were eyeballing them from across the way, though both of them pretended not to look when they saw them coming. "Walk faster." Whispered The Doctor. Donna obeyed without question. They power-walked back to the safety of their flat, shutting the door behind them with a dull thud. The Doctor was back to his natural state in a matter of seconds, his claws sinking into the carpeted floor. He began pacing, and Donna narrowly avoided getting smacked by his tail.

"Oi! Watch it!"

"Sorry..." He mumbled, refraining from pacing and flopping across the sofa. His tail twitched and thumped the arm of the couch. "How did he know?"

"Would you quit asking me? It's not like I know!" She pushed him slightly, "Move over." He obliged and she slid herself onto the sofa next to him, leaning up against him slightly. "We can't stay in here forever y'know."

"Yeah, Sherlock'll knock soon anyhow. That's him right now I bet." Donna heard a door swing open, and the sound of fast footsteps above them. The Doctor cocked his head, one ear swiveled slightly. "He's searching his drawers." Donna smiled.

"Bet he's getting his revolver." Not a second after she made the bet, the sound of bullets caused her to jump. The Doctor sighed and laid his ears flat against his head, trying his best to block out the noise. "Loud enough for you lizard-boy?" She teased. He put his clawed hands over his head with a groan.

"Definitely."

Moriarty sauntered into the dark warehouse, his senses on high-alert. Dust blew throughout the building, making it seem even more gloomy than it already was. A light suddenly came on in front of him, accompanied by a voice.

"HAVE YOU LOCATED THE DOCTOR?" Moriarty grinned.

"Indeed I have."

"WE NEED TO TAKE FURTHER ACTION. DRAW HIM OUT OF HIS HIDING PLACE." Moriarty didn't really understand his accomplice's fear of The Doctor, but he supposed everyone had something.

"What do you need me to do?"

"WHAT DOES SHERLOCK HOLD MOST DEAR?" A devilish gleam lit in his eyes.

"His partner, John Watson."

"HERE ARE YOUR INSTRUCTIONS. THEY ARE TO BE FOLLOWED WITHOUT QUESTION." He nodded, liking where this was going.

"I'm all ears."

#laurelhach #dragon who #my writing #DW AU #The Dragon in the Box

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hellooogaynow · 7 years

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1-100

omg ok tbh i forgot that i reblogged that ask thing but thank u fren here u go

1. spotify, soundcloud, or pandora?

spotify

2. is your room messy or clean?

um ok so my room at my mom’s is technically the office and just full of mine and everyone else’s storage so it isn’t really my room i guess and my room at my dad’s is nearly empty and i haven’t been there more than a couple times in a while and i’ve been crashing at friend’s and family’s houses and living out of a suitcase for weeks so i’m just gonna say i don’t really have a room

3. what color are your eyes?

dark brown

4. do you like your name? why?

alright well this is complicated because i hate the name emily and lately i’ve been going by emmitt for a while and it’s just weird because i feel so disconnected from emily and not super connected to emmitt either and i feel like i should just be a nameless person because i hate being referred to as anything tbh

5. what is your relationship status?

happily in a relationship with someone i really care about

6. describe your personality in 3 words or less

a detached mess

7. what color hair do you have?

my natural dark brown color

8. what kind of car do you drive? color?

ah it’s a purple mini van that’s rusting and dying

9. where do you shop?

target lol

10. how would you describe your style?

almost exclusively button ups and baseball shirts

11. favorite social media account?

tumblr probably i use this the most out of all of them

12. what size bed do you have?

queen

13. any siblings?

i have 2 sisters

14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

i honestly have no idea how to answer this question i don’t have a dream destination or anything

15. favorite snapchat filter?

omg probably the cute cat one that changes ur voice cuz my friends look so cute when they use it

16. favorite makeup brand(s)?

i don’t know anything about makeup

17. how many times a week do you shower?

every day sometimes multiple times a day

18. favorite tv show?

buffy the vampire slayer and dollhouse kill me

19. shoe size?

idk i’m pretty sure i’m a 6

20. how tall are you?

5’1

21. sandals or sneakers?

sneakers

22. do you go to the gym?

no lol but i do plan to start going once i actually move in to my new place and get settled

23. describe your dream date

i want to spend a day in chicago with emily doing whatever we want just walking and wandering into stores and go to a zoo or a museum or navy pier or honestly just anything at this point i miss her so much i don’t care what we do as long as we’re together

24. how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?

25. what color socks are you wearing?

they’re both different variations of black white and light blue

26. how many pillows do you sleep with?

at least 2

27. do you have a job? what do you do?

yeah i recently got a job in the mental health field and i work primarily with adults with various mental illnesses in a 24/7 supervised living area at the moment it’s mostly individuals dealing with schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, depression, and borderline personality disorder and i help them with symptom management, building the skills they have chosen to work on in their treatment plans, and help them carry activities of daily living so they can become self-sufficient and can transition out and live on their own

28. how many friends do you have?

ah i mean i know i have a lot of friends but as far as really close friends i know i can count on and will most likely always have around i’d say i have about 8

29. whats the worst thing you have ever done?

ah fuck well i went through a really destructive phase in my recent past where i was just in a bad place and i withdrew and lashed out a lot and was super emotionally unstable and i hurt a lot of people and i regret it

30. whats your favorite candle scent?

omg i have no idea i usually just smell all the blue ones and go from there

31. 3 favorite boy names

elliot (this is my favorite name in the world probably)

max

derrick

32. 3 favorite girl names

bennett

caroline

sara

33. favorite actor?

i thought about this for a solid 5 minutes and no one is coming to mind i’m gonna leave this blank

34. favorite actress?

eliza dushku and alyson hannigan kill me every time i watch dollhouse or buffy i’m in love with her

35. who is your celebrity crush?

amber liu

36. favorite movie?

selena

37. do you read a lot? whats your favorite book?

i used to read a lot when i was a kid and the music of dolphins by karen hesse has always stuck with me for some reason idk if it’s my favorite but when i was a kid i checked it out at least once a month on our elementary library visits and even now i always find myself thinking about it

38. money or brains?

well if u don’t have money u can’t survive in this capitalist society so i mean

but if this question is asking what i want in a person i’d want the smart

39. do you have a nickname? what is it?

my family calls me mimi and tbh it’s the only thing i actually feel comfortable with weirdly

40. how many times have you been to the hospital?

i’ve been to the hospital multiple times to visit people but i don’t remember actually needing to be there myself besides when i burned my hands as a child

41. top 10 favorite songs

this is def subject to change depending on my mood at any given moment but for right now:

hold me tight by bts

house of cards by bts

lie by bts

all mine by one ok rock

deeper deeper by one ok rock

we are by one ok rock

decision by one ok rock

clock strikes by one ok rock

como la flor by selena

moon river waltz by shinee

42. do you take any medications daily?

no i had issues with family and insurance so i had to stop seeing my psych and taking meds

43. what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

dry

44. what is your biggest fear?

my mom having anything else bad happen to her

45. how many kids do you want?

this is most likely not going to be my choice lol i don’t have a number in mind if i do have kids

46. whats your go to hair style?

short and whatever it wants to do when i get out of the shower

47. what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc)

well i don’t really live in a house rn but my mom’s house is huge she just moved in and it’s crazy big i’m so happy for her also the house i’m gonna move into soon is p small but still cute

48. who is your role model?

idk probably my mom she’s been through a lot and is still going strong

49. what was the last compliment you received?

“you’re so sweet, you know that?” from a client

50. what was the last text you sent?

“nini

51. how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?

tbh i have no idea i was probably in elementary school

52. what is your dream car?

something that runs, is either blue or grey, and magically doesn’t cost me anything to drive it

53. opinion on smoking?

it smells terrible and i don’t like to be around people who smoke

54. do you go to college?

yeah i just graduated

55. what is your dream job?

i have no idea i don’t know what i want i haven’t really thought that far ahead but i love my job so far so i’m alright with where i’m at

56. would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs?

i don’t really have a preference as long as i’m with and near people i care about

57. do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels?

i don’t think i’ve ever personally done that

58. do you have freckles?

yeah i have a couple scattered around

59. do you smile for pictures?

i make this weird stupid half smile face and i can’t stop

60. how many pictures do you have on your phone?

761

61. have you ever peed in the woods?

i have not

62. do you still watch cartoons?

i never want to not watch cartoons

63. do you prefer chicken nuggets from wendy’s or mcdonalds?

i don’t like chicken nuggets from anywhere

64. favorite dipping sauce?

wait for what

i like soy sauce for potstickers

65. what do you wear to bed?

usually shorts and a t shirt

66. have you ever won a spelling bee?

no i’m terrible at spelling out loud

67. what are your hobbies?

i like to dance idk not much else tho i guess

68. can you draw?

nooooo

69. do you play an instrument?

i played guitar once but i forgot everything smh

70. what was the last concert you saw?

the bts wings tour

71. tea or coffee?

tea

72. starbucks or dunkin donuts?

dunkin donuts

73. do you want to get married?

yes

74. what is your crush’s first and last initial?

e g

75. are you going to change your last name when you get married?

i’ve thought about this actually and i’m mostly just hesitant about how difficult it would be to change my name on like all the legal paperwork and like bills and work things and it just sounds super complicated but i wish it could be easier because i hate where my last name comes from and if i married my current gf we would literally have the exact same name and we would be able to confuse people even more and i just think it would be funny

76. what color looks best on you?

black i think

77. do you miss anyone right now?

yes oh my god

78. do you sleep with your door open or closed?

closed always closed

79. do you believe in ghosts?

yeah i do

80. what is your biggest pet peeve?

ok i get so mad when i go to a friend’s place who has long hair and i’m walking barefoot through their house or i’m sleeping over or i’m under a blanket or something and it just makes me so mad when i feel dumb long single strands of hair in my toes i hate it so much it makes me so mad idk man but this happened to me last night and i’ve been thinking about it ever since

81. last person you called?

ah well the last phone call that i was on was with the director of all the residential living things at my work

82. favorite ice cream flavor?

idk probably chocolate and vanilla with caramel

83. regular oreos or golden oreos?

regular oreos

84. chocolate or rainbow sprinkles?

no sprinkles pls

85. what shirt are you wearing?

black and grey v neck t shirt

86. what is your phone background?

a picture of my gf i took a while back of her from a distance with the river and sunset in the background

87. are you outgoing or shy?

shy with everyone besides my friends

88. do you like it when people play with your hair?

only like a very specific like 2 people but when it’s anyone else i get really uncomfortable with being touched and you’d think that people wouldn’t just come up to you and start touching your hair and telling you how soft it is but it’s more common than you think and it makes me want to d ie

89. do you like your neighbors?

my nonexistent neighbors r gr8

90. do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?

i always wash it in the morning but sometimes i wash it at night too if i feel gross from the day

91. have you ever been high?

nope never

92. have you ever been drunk?

yes

93. last thing you ate?

a blizzard from dairy queen with pieces of brownies in it

94. favorite lyrics right now

ok i’m gonna be honest and just say i’m not in a place to listen to music rn i’ve been listening to exclusively podcasts and i have not listened to a song and not zoned out completely during it in a very long time and no lyrics are coming to mind

95. summer or winter?

summer

96. day or night?

night

97. dark, milk, or white chocolate?

ah milk or white i guess i’m not a super big fan tho

98. favorite month?

june cuz my birthday also gay

99. what is your zodiac sign

gemini

100. who was the last person you cried in front of?

my dad

#asks #anon #thank u

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