#like . mike always throwing an arm around wills shoulder or keeping him close to let him know hes there

[smoosnoom]

the inherent boyfriendism of mike wheeler

[storiesofsvu]

Mike Dodds NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Mike is the softest, he’s always the softest but especially after sex he’s making sure you’re okay. He’s going to pull you to him, letting you cuddle against him as you come down from your orgasm, loving the way you bury against his skin. He’s definitely going to snuggle against you as the big spoon, leaving a trail of kisses against your spin before nipping your neck, reminding you how much he loves you 

B = Body part (your favourite body part of theirs and theirs of yours)

Dude’s fit AF, you love the way he can playfully and powerfully throw you around, you have a special soft spot for his hair, tugging at it while he goes down on you, while he fucks you. You also have a soft spot for his nose, the way it purposely flicks against your clit while he sucks at your cunt, makes you absolutely weak. 

He loves your arms, his hands usually trailing across them in completely innocent moments, knowing just how tightly they can constrict around him when he’s bringing you to bliss. He also loves your lips, catching himself staring at them when you’re talking multiple times.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He usually loves coming inside of you, condom or not it’s the intimacy of it all, and condom wise the easiest clean up. Otherwise he loves to come in your mouth, groaning in satisfaction at the way you suck him completely clean of all the cum he has.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He LOVES to get it on in public/semi public places. Part of the whole, rebel against the police family he comes from

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s not overly experienced, but man knows what he’s doing. He’s been with his fair share of people, and can easily sense what makes you tick, the sex is incredible from day one.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

He loves you on your back, legs on his shoulders while he plows into you, being able to watch the way you come undone underneath him, the ability to roll your clit in his fingers, pinch at your nipples while he fucks you. Or just straight up missionary where he’s so close to you, feeling the intimacy.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

There have definitely been a few moments of hilarious laughter in the bedroom, you’re comfortable with each other and are open, loving and willing. Though most of the time is more passionate.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) 

Mike takes a while before he sleeps with you, wanting to make sure you’re someone he’s willing to be with like that, wanting to make sure you’re not going to one and done him, so when you finally do sleep together it is a very intimate and romantic night. Once you’ve been together for a while there are some goofier, more heated nights that it’s all about fucking, but mainly it’s about love.

J = Jack off (masturbation head canon)

He jacks off a lot. Esp before transferring into SVU he’s a like, daily masturbator. The stress of work, the stress of his dad, he’s gotta release it somehow and this is the easiest way.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He loves to take control and throw you around (not to the point of you getting hurt though, just enough to excite the two of you, and you always have a safeword)

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

He LOVES to fuck you on the kitchen island, especially cause it looks out over the floor to ceiling windows into Manhattan. Not that anyone could really see you, but the thought is there.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Mike melts into an absolute puddle whenever you’re in a situation that you’re in power. When you’re pacing through a courtroom, tearing a perp apart, makes him goddamn weak. If you’re a detective, he’s absolutely smitten the first time he watches you interrogate someone, barely unable to keep his hands off you when you come out of the room. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s not into anything involving anal or anything involving bondage. He’s not vanilla per say, but he always wants to make sure you’re safe and comfortable.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s fucking incredible at eating you out, he nearly prefers it. He knows how important foreplay is, knowing that a woman doesn’t just like an orgasm before sex, but that she needs to be warmed up beyond a little bit of kissing or grabbing lube. If you don’t come from his fingers, you’re going to come from his mouth before he fucks you cause he is a gentleman. 

He LOVES when you suck his dick, he loves your mouth and how incredible it is but he honestly prefers eating you out 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends. He can do both, if y’all have the time he’s going to be sensual, but if he has to run to work he’ll be faster, he’s never really rough, but he will plow into you in them quickies.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He fucking loves them, he loves the risk, he loves holding his hand over your mouth as you hold back your moans when he fucks you in the office.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Based on above, yes, this boy constantly wants to give a big fuck you to being the police chief’s dad so he’ll fuck you basically anywhere.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go for multiple rounds, lasting longer than you expect, and he’s always going to make sure that you’ve come at least 3 times before he lets you sleep.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn’t own any, doesn’t like to use them on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s not too big of a tease, at first he doesn’t realize how much the neck kisses he gives you affect you. It’s only months later that he does, purposely brushing against your neck, nipping against the supple skin to get you riled up. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

There’s lots of quiet praise muttered into your ear, small grunts and moans against your skin

W = Wild card (a random head canon for the character)

He’s a hair puller. Even before he knows it’s your kink he’s tugging at your roots, making you moan at the sensation. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s packing. Cut. Beautiful and gorgeous. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

A few times a week, if you have more time then more

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Mike’s gonna do his best but chances are he falls asleep before you. You start out cuddling with you on his chest until he passes out and you curl up on your side. Though a few hours later you’ll find him curled around you, lips meeting the back of your neck before you’re finally able to fall asleep.

___________________ @fandom-princess-forevermore @hhroadgirl @skittle479 @altsvu  @lawandorderimagines @whimsicallymad @classylady1234 @averyhotchner @mysticfalls01 @teamsladsandgents @mrsrafaelbarba @ssaic-jareau @barbasbodaciousbeard @alwaysachorusgirll @rafivadafreddy @australiancarisi @wandas-wife @thestarrynightslover @lustvolle-liebe @sia2raw @cycat4077@xoxabs88xox @im-just-a-mississippi-girll

[fandom-space-princess]

Follow Where You Lead

midam week prompt 1: Impulsive - acting or done without forethought

Rating: General Audiences [1.6k words, fluff] Michael doesn't do impulsive. Being with Adam may just change that yet.

read below the cut, or on AO3

Adam is cooking when, for the first time since his return to life, he hears his favorite song.

The local DJ spins a set of mid-2000s pop hits. Rhythmic bass and powerful vocals simmer through the air, compel him into humming and tapping along with his hands on every available surface as he moves through the kitchen. Each song stirs nostalgia in his chest, a happy glow.

Michael putters alongside him, digging through a low cupboard in search of a glass baking dish. Adam, sliding past, transitions seamlessly from tapping fingers along the countertop to drumming on Michael's shoulders instead. From where his head is buried in the cupboard comes a faint huff of amusement.

Then the track change hits. Drums, precise and powerful. Commanding bass. A guitar intro that had been going for the jugular since 2005 and never, ever stopped.

Adam grins wide, all teeth. Reaches for his phone and fiddles with the volume - there has only ever been one way to listen to this song (loud). Tips back his head and all but shouts the opening line.

"Am I more than you bargained for yet?..."

Michael startles, bumps his head against the top of the cupboard. He sprawls backward with an oof, peering up at Adam from the floor with a look of such unearthly confusion that Adam can't help but laugh, even as he reaches down to clasp his arm and help him up.

"Man, I haven't heard this in ages! C'mon, Michael. Dance with me!" He's catching at Michael's wrists, leading him out of the kitchen and into the clearer space of the dining room. Michael follows, and even through his obvious hesitation he smiles. Adam's joy is infectious.

"I don't... know how to dance to this." Michael leans into Adam's space anyway, pitching his voice to carry over the sound.

"Nobody knows how to dance to this, that's part of the appeal." Adam rolls his eyes and just pulls Michael after him, swaying and spinning and singing along.

It's almost like time travel. For three minutes and 49 seconds, he might swear he's 15 all over again. Young and free and — he glances at Michael, draws him closer with hands on his hips and laughter in his eyes — in love, happier than a younger Adam would have ever believed his future self could grow to be. Dancing and singing in the kitchen with an angel. An angel who, though his brow still crinkles with amusement and his enthusiasm for this weird little artifact of human culture could never match Adam's own, is willing to cook with him and dance with him and stay with him and love him back.

The future, Adam thinks, is turning out to be pretty great.

-----

"I bet I can do it."

"I don't doubt that you're capable, I'm only saying that it may not be precisely wise."

The park is almost empty, save for a few sparse joggers or dog-walkers, and the old oak tree under which they stand spreads limbs invitingly down to them. In the warm spring sunlight, the soft leaves and strong branches offer a tempting perch, and the tree's position at the top of the hill on which they find themselves creates a natural overlook.

The view from up there, Adam thinks, is probably spectacular.

"I'm gonna do it." Adam grasps the lowest branch, then lifts his feet to let it take his weight. Solid. He grins. "Come on, Michael, what's the worst that can happen? You can't tell me you're scared of heights."

Michael appraises him skeptically, from where he continues to pointedly manifest standing on the ground. "What if you fall?"

"You won't let me fall and we both know it. Relax a little. This is what most people call 'fun.'" Adam clambers up onto the next branch, edges his way around the tree trunk, and pulls himself higher still.

"Adam you are attracting attention get down from there," Michael hisses through gritted teeth. He looks around. A woman and child pass them on the trail nearby, the child goggling up at him and tugging her mother's sleeve as she points. He waves. The woman smiles and shakes her head, chuckling, and they continue on their walk.

"See?" He says, leaning out to stare down at Michael. He arches an eyebrow, challenging, playful. "She didn't care. You shouldn't either. Come onnnn, Mike. The view up here is great. Live a little. Climb the tree."

The view from the top is, indeed, spectacular.

Adam nestles himself on a strong bough about three-quarters of the way up (past which the branches become too spindly for even his sense of adventure). Spread out in panorama below, the town is alive with the midday hum of people moving about their business: cars on the streets, pedestrians on the sidewalks, shopping and working and just... living.

Michael manifests next to him on the branch with a huff. He curls close to Adam, arm around his shoulders.

"No fair just appearing up here," Adam says with a grin. "You have to climb up it to get the full experience."

The expression the archangel gives him is dubious to say the least, but there's an underpinning of mirth there, too. He shakes his head at the foolishness of his human, and Adam tips his head onto his shoulder.

Michael leans his head back against Adam's, and hums thoughtfully. They sit in companionable silence for long moments. Then, with a fondness in his voice that melts through Adam's heart and stirs warmth in his veins:

"You were right," he whispers, "about the view."

-----

Adam dangles his feet over the edge of the sheer basalt cliff, peering out over the drop. "Ok, yeah. That's a long way down."

The waters churning over the cliffside rumble in profound natural agreement with the sentiment. Nearly 200 feet of uninterrupted freefall into the basin below; the river is well-suited to the landscape around it. Like everything else in this place, from the high dusty scrublands to the plateaus and canyons carved out of the Earth by glacial floods in eons past, the waterfall is a thing of stark, severe beauty. Power and inevitability have shaped it, without remorse, and the awe it commands is due as much to this as anything else.

Some things need no ornamentation to show their glory.

They have come out here, away from people, from civilization, to think, to just be. Michael often needs open spaces and solitude upon returning from Heaven. Adam understands. The few times he had accompanied the archangel back there, it had felt... not claustrophobic, exactly. But it was no longer the monastic haven of family of Michael's memories, and though the ghosts that roamed those halls weren't Adam's, in haunting Michael they haunted him as well.

"You don't have to keep going back, you know?" He prods Michael gently across their shared mindspace, at the place near the back of his consciousness where he is most aware of the archangel's brooding silence. "If it makes you miserable, you should stay away for awhile. They would understand."

I really can't, Michael sighs. His grace, where it brushes Adam's mind, feels exhausted, bruised, worn thin. It had been a long day. I have a duty to them. Every time I return it seems there is only more to be done.

Adam lays back onto the hard earth, crosses his hands behind his head. Closes his eyes. "There's always going to be more to be done, Michael. You need to set boundaries around how much they can ask of you. Even though they're your family." He pauses, considering. "Especially because they're your family."

Overhead, a pair of hawks circle each other, gliding along updrafts in the cloudless sky.

"When was the last time you made a real decision, an important one, that was just about you?" His voice is quiet. Adam presses a hand over his heart, where Michael most often seems a physical presence within his body, a weighty coil of energy and light. "Not for Heaven, or for Jack, or for your brothers. Or even for me. When was the last time you did something just because you wanted to?"

A handful of heartbeats pass, during which the only sound is the rumble of the falls and the breeze over shifting sands. Then Michael stirs within him, muted heat pressing back against his chest and the fleeting impression of a sly smile just behind his lips.

When I decided to stay with you, he murmurs, joy and gratitude suffusing through their body. Adam melts under the embrace of it.

"I love you, too," he says. A thought grabs hold of him, then, pulls him in and won't let go, and he stumbles to his feet with a giggle. "Hey, come out here a second. I wanna ask you something."

The archangel appears next to him, one hand tangled in his own, eyes soft and joyful. "Anything you like. What is it?"

"Do angels get married?"

Michael blinks, once, surprised. "Not generally, no."

"Do you want to?"

He looks back at Adam with a quizzical tilt of the head. Emotions roil within him: hesitation and confusion, yes, these by reflex, but underneath a vast resounding happiness that bubbles up within his grace and sings through their veins. Adam meets it with patience, and with love.

"I..." he starts, and looks away for a moment. But Adam squeezes his hand, gently, and it's like throwing a light switch: Michael is smiling back at him with a radiance to rival the sun. "You know, I think I do."

One long peal of laughter wells up out of Adam's throat, and then he's running, straight at the edge. He clears the precipice in one headlong leap, arms extended and laughter still ringing back to him off the canyon walls. Michael's voice joins with his own, and his wings burst into being at their shoulders.

Together they ride the air currents higher and higher, twisting up and away, into the sky.

[tanyawritesstories]

She Bites | Max Phillips x Siren!Reader

I came up with the strange idea of: what if Max was bitten by another creature? And siren was the natural answer for the reader's creature. I imagined their water form as basically the mermaids (sirens) from Pirates of the Caribbean. Enjoy my weirdness!

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: vampirism (duh), plenty of sexual innuendos, flirting, Max is a bit of a douche, insinuations of murder, blood, biting, fluff, Max and reader are unaware of each other's supernatural identities

•••

Your day at the office started slow but now it was picking up. You had just locked in your fourth sale, and began printing the finalization papers. You signed off on them and stood to walk them to your boss's office. On your way, you passed Andrew, looking the part of a hungover, underpaid college student, like he always did.

"Hey Y/N, you sure you don't want to come out tonight with us?" He asked.

"Um, no thank you, Andrew. I have something planned already," you responded politely.

"Aw, c'mon," he looked you up and down sleazily, "I can make it worth your while."

"Andrew, can't you tell the lady has important plans," the spritely voice from behind you made you tense and turn around. Your boss was standing there with a smug look on his handsome face. "She's been telling me how much she is looking forward to her date tonight."

You looked at the floor sheepishly and you could see Andrew shift awkwardly in place. "You're doing great on that presentation, buddy," Max assured the other man, "Now run along."

Andrew scurried back to his desk and Max leaned against the wall beside you, his arms crossed over his chest. "Are we still on for seven tonight?" He asked with a smirk.

You looked up at him and smiled, nodding. "Absolutely. You're picking me up at my place right?"

He nodded back. "Of course, sweet cheeks. Especially if there's a chance I can come inside after dinner."

You smirked back at him, your tone as flirty as his. "Play your cards right and maybe I'll let you."

He chuckled darkly. "Oh trust me, baby. I've never lost a game."

You took a step closer to him, booping his nose gently with your finger. "Then you should have nothing to worry about." At that, you tucked the papers for him into his crossed arms and walked back to your desk.

Of course you knew what kind of reputation Max Phillips carried. Who didn't. He was the type of person your sisters would call a man-slut. Arrogant, attractive, and brainless. Also the type you thought would make easy food.

Your clan had moved to the city only a few months ago, having come to the conclusion that there wasn't enough food in the ocean. You and several of your mer-sisters had taken to the land, tasked with feeding your family. It was getting increasingly more difficult for sirens to survive, especially out at sea. People didn't travel out on the ocean as much as they did a hundred years ago. Plus, now their boats were made of metal and a lot bigger. Even with super strength and the combined forces of the clan, they were hard to take down. Attacks usually ended with more than a few injuries and only a small reward.

Blending in with the humans was easy. Your tail turned to legs when on land and your slit eyes, fangs, and claws only came out when you attacked.

You had figured out a plan to be able to support the clan for hopefully a long time. If you were able to take control of this company, you could employ the rest of your clan to run the business and any new hires would be dinner. It was easy. Or so you thought. You hadn't exactly anticipated the charming and quick-witted sales manager standing in your way.

You had taken out a few minor employees already, none of them were missed and nothing was suspected. You had used your siren charm to hypnotize them into submitting resignation forms the day before you took them.

You were confused when Mike went missing before you could get him. You thought maybe one of your sisters had gotten to him first, but perhaps he just quit. It was frustrating to think you missed such a good potential meal, but alas you had work to do.

You knew you had to ultimately take down Ted, but Ted was wound around Max's finger. So your current target was Max. You played along with his douchey behavior, falling into the role of the shy, naive new girl that was easy to woo. It had worked thus far, getting you a date with your target victim. You planned on insinuating that you would sleep with him, get him back to your place, and then kill him. It would be easy.

You had managed to conjure up a final sale before you left for the day. You gave Max a wave and flirty wink as you walked by his office. You mouthed the words 'don't be late' before the elevator doors closed.

~~~~

Back at your apartment you had completed putting the finishing touches on your makeup. Minimal, since beauty came naturally to sirens. No matter how they looked, they were always beautiful and always praised for it.

You slipped on the sleek black dress. It was satin with thin straps and a slight V plunge in the middle, exposing a teasing amount of cleavage. You looked good enough to eat. You knew Max would think the same. You grabbed a light jacket and donned it to cover your top half. You heard the doorbell ring and looked at the clock on the wall. Five minutes early, typical punctuality. You grabbed a pair of black heels, quickly throwing them on and grabbing your purse.

You found Max with a surprisingly sincere smile on his face when you opened the door.

"Good evening, doll," he greeted, "Ready for our date?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," you replied cheerfully.

He was wearing a nice suit as usual, but he had foregone the tie and waistcoat. Instead having the first few buttons of his shirt undone. It was a very relaxed look for him, and, shockingly, you didn’t dislike it.

You walked to his car, once again surprised when he opened the door for you. You slid in and thanked him. The drive to the restaurant didn't take as long as you thought it would.

Max offered you his arm as you walked in together. You had made the reservation, not trusting him to do it. You let him pull out your chair for you as you removed your jacket. Max only noticed once he was sitting in his own chair across from you. You snatched the wine list and glanced over it. From the corner of your eye you could see him staring unashamedly at your chest where the dip exposed the tops of your breasts.

“Do you have a preference?” You asked. “Anything red is fine with me,” Max answered, his eyes didn’t leave your body even when he knew you were watching him. You scanned back over the list, picking out something simple. “You look stunning tonight.”

You looked up to find Max with a smirk on his face. Willing a blush to come to your cheeks, you looked down at your plate. “That’s kind of you, Max. But I’m afraid you’re a bit of a liar.” He pouted adorably, leaning his elbows on the table. “Nonsense. You’re the most beautiful woman in the office,” he complimented. He reached over and took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

You knew that was rubbish. Everyone had a crush on either Amanda or Zabeth. If someone had a crush on you it was because of your siren charm, otherwise they hated you because you did your job and got praised for it.

You ordered your food and found it easy to make conversation with Max. He kept up the perfect attitude with snarky and flirty thrown in. You weren’t learning much about him but you were learning his traits. You didn’t expect him to be such a good listener. He hung onto every word you said and asked questions here and there. You almost felt bad for spinning him the entire fake backstory you had made up for yourself. You tried asking him questions but he only answered a few before turning the conversation back to you.

By the time dessert came you had almost run out of fake information and stories to tell him. This was getting tiring, you hadn’t expected him to act like this. Most men couldn’t shut up about themselves, but you hadn’t gotten hardly anything out of him. It was strange, for sure. Max offered to pay and you let him think he was doing you a favor. He stood first and grabbed your coat, helping slide it over your arms and back. His hands stayed on your shoulders and he whispered into your ear.

“So did I play well?” You smirked turning to face him, putting your hands on his chest. “You’ll see, later.”

He placed his hand on the small of your back and led you back out to his car. He drove with one hand, the other was draped over the center console. You figured it was time to answer his question now. You took his hand and rested it on your knee, keeping your eyes out the window. You could hear him turn his head briefly to look at you. You waited until his eyes were back on the road before sliding his hand up your leg a little bit, you let go and allowed him to decide what he wanted to do next.

He took the hint and slid his hand further up your leg, pushing your dress up in the process. He stopped on your inner thigh, slowly rubbing your warm skin. You knew what he was doing, he was teasing you, trying to make you beg. This time you weren’t going to pretend, he would wait until you got home and was inside your room. If you let him live that long.

You made it back home and invited Max in. “Make yourself comfortable, you want anything more to drink?”

You strolled to your drink cabinet, kicking your heels off on the way there, and pulled out scotch for yourself. “I’ll have what you’re having, sweet cheeks,” he said sitting down on your sofa.

You turned, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. You jumped when you felt his chest press into your back, his nose nuzzling into your neck. How did he get behind you so fast? You probably just didn’t hear him. It was unlikely with your acute senses but who knows.

“Can we skip the drinks?” He whispered huskily into your ear. You reached back and ran your fingers into his hair. “You’re eager, aren’t you?” You replied making sure your tone was as smooth as his.

"I'm hungry," he said, "and I wanna know what you taste like." He ended his sentence with a squeeze to your ass that actually made you gasp. He was good at dirty talk, you were almost starting to feel bad about having to kill such a fine specimen.

You turned around in his grasp and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. You expected him to try and heat it up right away, yet he surprised you once again. He took the kiss as slow and deep as you, keeping one hand on your ass, massaging it to his liking.

You broke away from his lips after a while of having them locked together, instead trailing kisses over his jaw. He took the break to place kisses and licks up and down your neck. You nuzzled your nose into the flesh of his neck, seeing the perfect moment open up.

You didn't hesitate.

Your pupils became slits, with your fingernails extending into sharp points and anchoring themselves into his suit coat. Your fangs descended into their proper places, now poised for harvesting. You barely registered the feeling of his teeth scraping along your skin before you bit down.

Your fangs pierced his skin with more resistance than you were expecting. However, that wasn’t the strangest thing to occur at that moment. You felt a sharp burning pain in your own neck, right where Max had been licking. Did he...he had just bitten you!

You retracted your fangs and shoved Max away, his teeth having unlodged from your skin. You glanced at your neck where two puncture holes were now steadily exuding blood.

"You fucking bit me!" You shouted.

Max recovered from your shove, his eyes tinged yellow, a smear of blood on his upper lip…and his own fangs.

"Why the hell do you taste like fish!" He yelled back.

You were beyond confused. "What? Doesn't matter, who the hell are you!" You grabbed a towel and quickly placed it over your bite wound.

"Me? Who are you!" He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, "Ugh, and why in fucks name does your blood taste salty."

"Usually when I bite people, they die, not complain about how my blood tastes," you grimaced.

"That's what happens when you bite a vampire, sugar tits," he deadpanned.

Your mouth dropped open. Well that explains a lot, but in addition, it made you angry. How were you supposed to take over the company now?

"I didn't know I had a fellow vamp working in my building," he smiled, "Though, that doesn't explain the fishy taste."

You rolled your eyes, heading towards your bedroom to find a bandage. "I'm not a vampire, I'm a siren. Did you honestly think vampires were the only supernatural beings walking this planet?"

Max followed not far behind you, intrigued by your revelation. "A siren, like a mermaid? Where's your tail?"

"I don't have a tail while I'm on land, and no, sirens are much deadlier than mermaids," you informed gruffly. Max appeared to be thinking over your words while he watched you tend to the two holes in your neck. He was unaffected by your bite, his skin having already healed itself.

"Why were you trying to kill me?" He suddenly inquired. You looked over to see him lying back on your bed. He had removed his suit coat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, comfortable as could be.

"Because my sister's and I need to eat and I don't like killing just anyone on the street," you answered.

"Are the rest of your sisters as hot as you?" He sat up as you crossed the room, watching your every move. You sneered at him, "I figured killing you was an easy way to take over the company, therefore providing my family with a steady food source, and ridding the world of one less asshole."

Max nodded along to your words. "Great idea, sugar plum, but half the office has already been turned. Tough luck," he mocked.

You swore under your breath, "Then there's no point in working for the company anymore. You can leave now."

No wonder it had been so easy to lure him in, he was playing you too. You both fell right into each other's traps.

Max rose from your bed. He walked to you and gave you a teasing smile, pinching your cheek like an affectionate grandparent. "Don't worry, fish lips. Maybe we can work something out," he winked at you.

You pulled away from him and glared as he swung his jacket over his shoulder. "See you at the office tomorrow!"

~~~~

Max hadn't noticed you came into his office as you entered the same time as Evan was leaving. The loud thud of papers landing harshly on his desk made him look up.

"My resignation form," you said, "since my purpose has been...worn out."

Max looked taken aback despite the fact that you told him you would be quitting last night. "Why is that a reason to leave?" He asked, leaning back in his chair.

"I literally just told you, and you know about me when my existence is supposed to be a secret so…" you trailed off.

Max looked to be thinking again, never a good sign. He took your papers off his desk and promptly threw them in the trash bin. "No."

You raised your eyebrows, "No?" He nodded, "No. You happen to be doing the best work here so I can't let you go."

You put your hands on your hips. The audacity of this man! "Huh, right ok. Then I'll just walk out and never come back and there's nothing you can do to stop me," you said firmly. You turned heading towards the door.

"I could tell."

You looked back at Max, who was now standing, hands in his pockets. "Excuse me?"

"I could tell. I could walk out and announce to everyone that you're part fish and all I'd have to do to prove it, is throw some salt water on you," he threatened. You realized as he talked that he was dead serious, and it scared you. "Yeah, I did my research on sirens, believe it or not. I know how you operate," his smile evil and teasing at the same time as he moved to the front of the desk and sat on the edge. "If you stay, your secret is safe with me."

"That's blackmail," you stated obviously.

"Pfft," Max rolled his eyes, "And? Does it look like I'm giving you much choice here, sweet cheeks? You stay with the company and I'll help you, it's a lot easier for me to obtain blood, and I can do it without killing them. I can help you."

You sighed in frustration. What choice did you have? You hated him for not giving you an alternative, but the company wasn't all bad and pay was decent.

"Fine." Was all you said before walking out and resuming your work.

~~~~

Max had stayed true to his word, you had been listening, and he hadn't even hinted that you might be a dangerous supernatural creature to anyone. Maybe he was due more credit than you gave him

You were currently sitting on your sofa, wearing comfortable leggings and a t-shirt, drinking a beer while watching a movie. You were interrupted by a knock on your door. When you answered it you didn't expect to see Max standing on the other side with a cooler in one hand. He was wearing a button up with a black leather jacket and jeans, it was the most casual you'd ever seen him and he still looked so good.

"I brought dinner," he said simply. He unzipped the cooler bag and showed you its contents; four large plastic bags filled halfway up with blood.

"Max!" You whisper yelled. You ignored his smile and pulled him inside by his arm, quickly closing the door. "You can't just show me that, wait till you're inside," you sighed, "Now what do you want?"

"These are for you," he said, "and your family of fishes." He set the cooler down on the counter and proceeded to take the bags of blood and arrange them nicely in your fridge.

"You got that for me?" You asked, skeptical of his sudden kindness. "Yes, I said I would help you, so I am." He grabbed a beer out of the fridge while he was in there and took your place on the sofa.

This man was making a habit out of shocking you. He noticed as you stood shell-shocked in the middle of the room. "Did you really think I wouldn't keep my word?"

You wanted to be mad at him, you desperately wanted to be mad.

"No, I didn't think you would. I thought you were joking," you admitted. You took a seat next to him and took another sip of your beer.

"You wound me, fish lips," he sassed. You sighed, trying to maintain your current mindset of not being mad at him. “Only one thing,” you looked at him, “Can I see your tail?”

Your eyes practically rolled on their own. “Aw, c’mon,” he pouted, “I brought dinner for your whole family and saved your job, it’s the least you could do.”

“You do know that when I’m in the water the tail is the only thing I’m wearing,” you said. You watched as Max’s lips slowly turned upwards into a smug smirk. “You dickhead, that’s exactly what you want!” You took a pillow from the sofa and chucked it at his head, heading towards your room to shut yourself in.

He burst into laughter and got up to follow you. You attempted to close the door in his face but he caught it. Even with all your strength thrown against it he was able to hold it open like it was nothing.

“No, I’m genuinely curious, sweetheart,” he said once he was able to stop laughing. You stopped fighting him once you heard him. He’d never called you sweetheart before, it was normally irritating nicknames.

“I’ll think about it,” you relented. He smiled. “I did bring some of that blood just for us. You want to have dinner with me again?”

For once you found yourself smiling along with Max Philips.

[twiluvr]

BABY STEPS — JASPER HALE

austistic!oc/jasper hale | masterlist

CHAPTER ONE. concrete to grass

Grace lays horizontally on her sister's bed. Her legs swing in the air as she reads through her calculus textbook, silent in her movement but loud in her occasional self piteous sighs.

Bella sits at her desk across the room, scrolling through a Forks tourism site. The yellow desk lamp on her left provides ample light for the entire room. She's used to Grace's melodramatic attitude when it comes to math, so doesn't so much as pay her a glance when she sighs for the fifth time in an hour.

At her sister's complete lack of response, Grace huffs and drops the paperback onto the bed. Then, she turns onto her stomach and frowns at the site displayed on Bella's screen. "Why are you looking at hiking trails? We don't hike."

"I'm looking at Forks' visitor website."

Grace makes a face. "Why?"

Bella turns to her. "Just seeing if anything's changed since I last spent a summer there."

"And?"

"It hasn't."

"Yeah," Grace grins. "That's why I like Forks. Everything stays the same."

Bella blinks. Grace thinks she looks horrified. "Everything?"

Grace shrugs. "Well, not everything. Dad emailed me a month ago to let me know he was getting a new microwave. This one is grey. His old one was black."

Bella frowns. "Oh."

She doesn't look very comforted.

"They also opened that public swimming pool last summer." Grace points out. "It's gross, but it's there."

"Yeah," Bella closes her laptop and stands up. She pushes the chair beneath the desk before walking over to the bed. She nudges Grace over and lays down next to her. Their heads knock together gently.

"You don't have to do this," Grace says quietly. "I'd be okay moving to Forks on my own. I would."

"I know." Bella agrees. "But I'm coming with you anyway."

"I just don't want you to do this and then resent me for it later." Grace shifts to rest her head on Bella's chest. She presses her ear into her shirt and doesn't settle until she can hear her sister's heartbeat.

"Don't be stupid. I could never resent you." Bella denies. "Besides, this is my decision. I want to move to Forks. It'll be nice to spend some time with dad."

Grace hums, unconvinced. Bella's sudden change of heart is unsettling. Nobody goes from loathing a place to wanting to move there overnight.

A realisation abruptly strikes her. "Mom asked you to go with me, didn't she?"

Bella doesn't say anything.

Grace's throat tightens. "Oh."

Bella stays quiet, trying to find the right words. "Don't be mad at her. She just- she doesn't want you to be on your own."

"I won't be on my own." Grace tightens her jaw. She's clearly unsettled now. Her skin crawls. "I'll be with dad."

"And me," Bella says. She brushes a grounding hand through Grace's hair. "I'm going with you, Gracie. I've already made up my mind."

"You don't like Forks."

The sentence echoes like a broken cassette in Grace's head. Over and over.

"No, I don't" Bella admits. "But you're my sister and I'm not willing to put a two thousand mile distance between us."

"You don't like Forks."

"But I love you," Bella says easily. She keeps running a hand through Grace's hair, applying a grounding pressure on her scalp.

"You don't like Forks."

Bella hums. Softly. Kindly. "I know."

"You don't like Forks."

"I know."

Grace clenches her wet eyes shut and focuses intently on Bella's heartbeat and the hand in her hair. "You don't like Forks."

It's a mantra now. It consumes her until she can hear nothing else. Even as exhaustion sweeps her away from consciousness like a wave on a rocky shore, the words burn on her tongue.

Bella holds her as she falls asleep.

--

Two weeks later, Bella and Grace stand side-by-side outside Port Angeles airport. It's a small place, a lot like the plane they'd connected with from Seattle. There's a worn-down fidget cube in Grace's pocket that her mom had given her that morning. It's blue; her favourite colour.

"Do you think he'll be in the cruiser?" Bella asks with a wince.

Grace shrugs, pulling her knit cardigan closer to her body. Her hands are still trembling. She isn't scared of flying, never has been, but the loudness of the engines had provoked a handful of sensory overloads over past five hours.

"Probably. He is the Chief."

Bella grimaces. "I hope I'll be able to find a car before school starts. You think Charlie-"

"You should call him dad." Grace interrupts. "It makes him sad when you call him Charlie."

"Right," Bella takes a small breath.

Five minutes later, Charlie pulls up in the cruiser. Grace doesn't think twice before darting across the parking lot to hug him. He lets out a gruff breath when she throws herself at him, but reciprocates the embrace nonetheless. He holds her tightly.

His uniform smells like stale potato chips and gunpowder, but Grace couldn't care less. The pressure is amazing. He's always given good, solid hugs.

"Hey there, Gracie." He chuckles when she finally pulls away. "You have a good flight?"

"It was fine." She doesn't elaborate any further before climbing into the car. She curls up against the door and savours the absence of noise. She closes her eyes and takes a steadying breath.

"Hey, dad," Bella says after Grace shuts herself in the car.

Charlie gives her an awkward one-armed hug. "It's good to see you, Bells."

When he releases her, she doesn't even manage a single step before stumbling over her suitcase. He automatically steadies her. "You haven't changed much. How was the flight?"

"Loud," Bella frowns, shooting a concerned look at the cruiser where her sister was sitting. "But fine otherwise."

"Good." Charlie nods, grunting as he lifts their suitcases into the trunk.

Bella climbs into the passenger seat.

The drive back to Forks is only around an hour-long, but the traffic on the highway extends their journey by a good forty minutes. Grace doesn't care much, but she can tell Bella is getting antsy.

"I found a good car for you. Really cheap," Charlie says, about twenty-five minutes into the quiet journey.

"I can't drive," Grace says. He knows that.

"I know. I found it for your sister." Charlie looks at her through the rearview mirror with a smile. "I got you a little something too, though."

Grace reciprocates his smile before refocusing on her fidget cube.

Bella squints, sceptical. "What kind of car?"

"Well, it's a truck actually. A Chevy."

"Where did you find it?"

"Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?"

"No," Bella shakes her head.

"Really? Do you remember Jacob?" Grace asks, baffled. The shaggy-haired Quiliuete was a stand-out memory from Grace's time in Forks.

"No," Bella says, again.

Grace is visibly thrown.

"He used to go fishing with us during the summer," Charlie explains.

"Ah," Bella flinches at the memory.

"He's in a wheelchair now." Charlie says, "so he can't drive anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap."

"What year is it?"

"Well, Billy's done a lot of work to the-"

Grace tunes out of the conversation, gazing out of the window. She watches as grey slowly shifts to green, concrete to grass. Her heart flutters in suppressed excitement.

Forks holds a special place in her heart. Memories of summers spent with her dad were magical; chasing butterflies with Mike Newton, attending enormous bonfires at the Reservation, swimming in the sea with Jacob and going on fishing trips with her dad and Billy. Bella never enjoyed any of it, she was a city dweller at heart, but summer was Grace's favourite time of year for a reason.

"Do we have any waffles at home?" She asks, out of the blue. She hopes Bella and her dad are finished with their discussion. Interrupting is one of her more vexatious habits.

"Yeah, I got you your waffles," Charlie assures. He smiles brightly in the mirror-like she's made him the happiest man alive. She blinks in confusion but attempts to imitate the expression. She's certain hers resembles more of a perplexed grimace, though.

Bella purses her lips to conceal a fond smile. It's amusing, sometimes, how unaware her sister can be. They'd been in Forks for less than two hours and Grace was already referring to the place as home; no wonder Charlie was thrilled.

Charlie stops at a red-light. "So, you two looking forward to starting school?"

Bella shrugs, not sure what to say to that.

Grace, however, nods. "I like school. Did you make sure they got our transcripts?"

"Sure did." Charlie nods. "I went in and spoke to Sarah Cope yesterday. They've got everything they need. Your records, personal information. All of it."

"Did you remember to get a copy of Grace's class schedule?" Bella asks. It's a weighted question.

"Sure did," Charlie says. Bella nods in relief. Grace simply smiles at her dad in gratitude. "Don't worry. I made a list of everything I needed to do to make sure I wouldn't forget anything."

"Good idea." Grace offers her genuine support at his preparation technique. "Lists are great. I love lists."

"Yeah," Charlie nods. His eyes are soft as he glances at her over his shoulder. "I know."

Grace settles back into her seat, content.

---

When they pull up outside of the familiar house, Grace shifts in her seat at the sight of the unfamiliar truck on the drive. She'll get used to it soon enough, but in all the years she's been alive her dad has only ever owned a cruiser. The development is unnerving.

They're quick to get out of the cruiser, everyone eager to stretch their legs after their respective journeys. Grace reaches down to touch her toes, stretching her tailbone. She stands up when she hears Bella gasp in delight.

She walks around the cruiser and sees the genuine joy on Bella's face as she examines the red Chevy.

"Wow, Dad! I love it! Thanks." She exclaims, eyes wide as she investigates the vehicle.

"I'm glad you like it," Charlie says, gruffly, clearly embarrassed.

Grace eyes the old truck warily. "It looks loud."

Charlie pats her shoulder. "There's a pair of noise-cancelling earmuffs in the glove box. Best on the market, according to the woman down at Buy'N'Save."

Grace smiles, so does Bella.

They drag their luggage into the house, Grace's suitcase significantly lighter than Bella's. She already has clothes at Charlie's from last summer, whereas Bella doesn't.

When they get inside, Charlie takes her class schedule off of the fridge and Grace spends the next hour revising it before putting it back up. She hangs it with one of the magnets she'd painted during her 'magnet making' phase a few years ago.

Dinner is a quiet affair. They're all tired and grouchy. So instead of cooking or venturing out to the diner, they order Chinese takeout and eat in front of the TV before Grace snuggles into Bella's bed beside her and falls asleep before eleven pm.

The next morning, Grace finally hauls her suitcase upstairs and puts it in her room. It's smaller than the other two bedrooms in the house, more of a boxroom than anything else, but it has just enough room for a double bed, a wardrobe, a desk and her yoga mat. She has a window overlooking the woods, the walls are painted light grey and the floor is wooden. Unlike her room back in Pheonix, she knows she can get a good night sleep here.

Breakfast goes something like this. Bella makes toast without opening the back door and sets off the smoke alarm. Charlie drinks four mugs of black coffee and Grace briefly frets over his caffeine intake. Bella manages to shut up the fire alarm with some violent tea-towel dancing. Grace cooks three waffles in Charlie's new microwave and approves of the new appliance. Before heading to work, Charlie offers them both good luck for their first day. Bella does the dishes while Grace packs herself a simple lunch of carrots and cucumber sticks.

Then, with one last inspection of the house to ensure they've not left any outlets on or windows open, they climb into Bella's new truck. It's raining, not heavily but not lightly either. It's typical Forks weather and Grace, for what its worth, doesn't work herself up over the hazards of driving on wet roadways without experience. Bella is a good driver; cautious and aware. There's no reason to worry.

Grace puts on the earmuffs before Bella turns on the engine and offers a thumbs up in approval. She can still hear the rumble of the engine, but it's faint. If anything, it's actually soothing. Bella fiddles with the radio for a few minutes before they set off.

Forks High School is far smaller than the last school they'd attended, but it's still extensive. Bella pulls into a marked out space in the middle of the already crowded lot. A few heads turn to stare and it makes Bella shift in discomfort. Grace isn't bothered by it.

She keeps her hands in the pockets of her raincoat, one hand playing with her fidget cube and the other just keeping warm. Her hood is up too, hair tucked into her sweater to protect it from the rain.

She and Bella meet at the tail end of the truck. Bella laces her arm through Grace's and together they walk through the parking lot like wild animals being led to an enclosure. Everyone stares and a handful of overly confident people whisper. Two people wolf whistle, but Grace is deaf to it and Bella is too flustered to say anything.

The office is overly warm, there are potted plants everywhere and a small seating area that looks absurdly uncomfortable. Bella approaches the desk while Grace stops to look at the notice-board. She's not usually a fan of extra-curriculurs, but it's always nice to know what's on offer.

"Here," A few minutes later, Bella taps her shoulder to draw her attention away from the plethora of flyers. She hands over two pieces of paper. "There's another copy of your schedule. And a map." Then she hands over a small piece of card. "You need to get this stamped by all of your teachers."

"Do we have any classes together?"

"No. We have lunch together though"

Bella's a year and a half older than Grace and takes mostly AP classes, whereas Grace is below average in everything other than Art, where she exceeds AP levels. Her mom had tried to get her tutors, but her efforts had been in vain. Renee had been self-conscious of her bad grades as if they were her own. It was weird.

Grace studies the map as they walk out of the office and back out into the parking lot. "There's a lot of buildings here. This place is bigger than it looks."

"I wonder how many students they have."

Grace looks at her sister. "Three hundred-thirty-eight. They have it posted on the notice board."

"Oh," Bella's eyes grow wide. Their last school in Phoenix had upwards of four thousand.

Grace looks at the schedule in her hands. "I have calculus first."

"You'll be fine." Bella insists as they reach the truck again. They still had ten minutes to waste before they'd need to head to class. Sitting in the truck and shielding from the rain was a better plan than awkwardly hovering in the corridors. "You've been studying really hard."

"Okay." Grace ducks into the passenger seat and waits for Bella to get in the drivers side before continuing. "But what if they only have blue ink pens?"

"You have three black ink pens in your bag." Bella says. "I have two spares if you somehow manage to lose them all before the end of the day. If you text me, I'll bring you one."

Grace nods. "Okay."

Bella fixes her sister with a gentle smile. "That everything? We've still got a few minutes."

"I can have my fidget out in class?" She asks. Bella nods. "Okay. That's everything."

Bella reaches over and squeezes her hand. She holds on for a long time. The constant pressure melts away the tension that'd built in her shoulder.

She sinks against the seat and watches the rain beat down on the windscreen.

She's not nervous. There are no metaphorical butterflies in her stomach. No, she's just apprehensive.

Change is tough, but with her sister by her side and her fidget in her pocket, there's nothing Grace Swan can't do.

[giorno-plays-piano]

You were all I wanted Part 3

Pairing: mob!Peter Parker x plus-sized!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, swearing, human trafficking, mentions of non-con, minor character’s death.

Words: 1600.

Summary: You are bought by the head of Stark crime family for a kid he cares about.

Part 1

Part 2

P.S. Peter is an adult!

This chapter turned out to be shorter, but it's still pretty eventful. Hope you're going to like it <3

___________

"But what... what if he won't like me? What if he'll take me away?" You sobbed, panic taking over you as you imagined Tony Stark pressing a gun to your forehead.

"No, he'd never do that." Peter left a little kiss behind your ear. "Mr. Stark doesn't take the gifts he's made back. You don't have to be afraid of that."

You sniffed at his words. That's what you were now. A gift. A possession. A pet whose job was keeping its master happy. You had to be grateful you were given to someone like Peter, at least. You didn't know whether he would always treat you kindly, but as of now he had never threatened to hurt you. You could only pray for him to fancy you so he wouldn't throw you away like some garbage - apparently, Tony Stark treated his women exactly like that.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place. Of course, you got upset." Peter cuddled with you some more, but you weren't sure whether he was being sincere. Wasn't he sending you a clear message?

Don't go against me or you'll end just like her.

"Oh, I have an idea. Let's go out! Do you wanna see the movie or something?"

You did your best to wipe away your tears and stared at the boy, perplexed. "What?"

"We have a nice little cinema not far from here. We could go right now, just let me check what they've having today."

"But didn't you say I can't leave this place?"

"I meant without me." He showed you the same smug smirk Stark was wearing all the time, and you lowered your gaze to Peter's chest instead. "With me close you can go wherever you want to."

Funny thing to say. In thruth, you could go wherever he wanted to take you.

"Wow, they're having Beyond Darkness in 30 min! We gotta go, you'll loooove this."

"Sure."

In five minutes you were already hurrying after Peter and trying to look nowhere but your shoes. Regardless of what was there in Stark's Tower, you didn't want to see it, not even mentioning all those guys with guns scattered across the building. Peter was saying his hello to each and every one of them as if he were some mafia's social butterfly.

Whatever. You knew Peter was Tony's favorite not because he had a pretty face. You had never particularly asked what his role in all this was, but it was obviously something way bigger than running errands for the gang. Maybe it was better to never figure it out.

"Hey girl, wanna have fun?" Somebody to your left asked you, and you flinched involuntarily, keeping your head low.

Peter stopped in the very same second and sent the stranger a hard look.

"Mike, you offer my girl drugs one more time and I'm gonna shoot your cute little brother in the leg, you hear me?"

You raised your eyes to Peter's smiling face and regretted it immediately. There was something so dark in his gaze you wanted to turn around and run until you were back to your room, hiding somewhere in the corner.

"Shit! Sorry, Spidey!" The guy's high-pitched voice sounded frightened. "Didn't know you got a girl!"

"Yeah, yeah, see you later, we're kind of busy now." Peter grabbed your hand and pulled you away, heading to the exit. "I forgot to mention before that we don't do drugs. At all. They're good for business, but not for us, ok, Baby?"

"Yes, Peter." You answered and kept chewing your lips, thinking of all the things he had just said. You suspected him to be more ruthless when you weren't around, but never to such extent. How damn scary was real Peter Parker?

"And don't worry, I'd never shoot his brother in whatever part of his body." The boy said it like it was something obvious and you didn't even need to pay attention to it.

Why then did that guy look completely horrified?

When you had finally stepped outside and felt the wind playing with your hair you were ready to cry. Just walking out of the Tower was a fucking torture.

It was already dark, and you pulled the zipper on your pretty blue jacket up, going almost shoulder to shoulder with Peter. Normally you'd be at least a little scared to walk the streets of a big city at night, but the guy your mother had warned you about was already holding your hand.

The place the boy brought you to was truly small but cozy with nice vintage red seats, the delicious smell of caramel popcorn spreading everywhere. It turned out that the movie was something in between Star Wars and Star Trek, which wasn't surprising because Peter was a sucker for anything related to sci-fi. Anyway, it wasn't bad and you actually enjoyed watching it. The movie helped you to keep your mind off your earlier encounter with the drug trafficker and the words Peter said.

The only way to live like that and stay sane was to turn a blind eye to anything that happened around, you thought. It was cowardly and revolting, but what could you do against one of the most, if not the most, dangerous gangs in New York? Surely, even if by some miracle you could flee the Tower and go to police, would they really be willing to help you? No, they would return you to Mr. Stark. You were a hundred percent sure he got it covered.

"Are you feeling tired, Baby?"

You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at Peter who smiled at you so lovingly it could make any girl cry.

"Just a little bit."

"Want me to give you a massage when we gonna get home?" His expression quickly turned devious, and he winked at you.

Yeah, great, now you'd have him fucking you before your knees were giving out. The kid had such stamina he could be an Olympic athlete, no less.

"Aw, I love when you blush like that." Chuckling, he put his arm around your shoulders and inched closer to give you a quick peck on the lips. You forced youself to enjoy his little signs of affection and start thinking you ought to be thankful he wasn't into heavy BDSM practices or something like that.

While you two were kissing again, you heard someone's loud footsteps as if this person just jumped out of the corner, and then there was a hateful outburst, "Stay were you are. Your wallets, quick!"

You froze, your hands getting cold as you stared at the face of a guy standing in front of you with a knife in his hands. He was clearly unstable, sick - you could see the dark circles around his eyes, the unhealthy color of his skin, and his greasy hair sticking to his forehead. You didn't know what was wrong with him, but he was twice bigger than Peter. The guy would probably have no problem with slicing both him and you into pieces if you didn't comply.

"I said g-"

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." Peter let out a frustrated sigh before you heard the loud sound of the gun firing.

There was a little black hole in the guy's chest, blood seeping through his dirty white t-shirt and coloring it in a beautiful deep ruby color. You could see the confusion in the eyes of the stranger, his mouth half-open. Slowly, he went down before his legs gave out and he landed at the ground with a loud thud. He didn't move after that.

"Come on, attacking a couple of high shoolers? You're such a psycho, man. Who were you gonna go after us? Kids?" Peter rolled his eyes and hid the gun under his bomber, turning away from the man he murdered and shouting to someone behind him. "It's ok, people! It's just me, your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man! Calm down, go home, it's late!"

You were still staring at the large pool of blood spreading beneath the body of a stranger - lack of light made it look like it was an odd black liquid. Before you could take your eyes elsewhere, you felt bile quickly going up your throat and vomitted, moving to lean your hand on the wall of a building. He killed him. Peter killed him. You didn't even see him pulling out the gun.

"Oh Baby, I'm so sorry." The boy gently held back your hair when you threw up again, feeling scared, disgusted, feverish and cold at the same time. "That's why I don't like drugs and what they do to people. That shithead lost his mind, you see? No sane guy would ever jump on me or my girl like that."

Despite him being so tender, you couldn't even turn your head to look at him as you started shaking from his touch.

You kept emptying your stomach a few more minutes before Peter softly wiped your mouth with his handkerchief and took your arm, walking you back to the Tower and saying all those unnecessary things about how terrible some people are and how everyone has to take care in the dangerous world they're living in. You didn't hear half of that, but you cared little for his chattering.

Peter had shot the man without showing even the slightest regret. He'd shoot you the same way if you ever turned against him - he was Stark's favourite, after all.

__________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki  ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @msruchita @opheliadawnwalker3

[just-my-fandom]

Over and Over (Steve Harrington x Byers! Reader)

Title; Over and Over

Pairing(s); Steve Harrington x Byers! Reader, Jonathan Byers x Sister! Reader, Will Byers x Sister! Reader, Joyce Byers x Daughter! Reader, Robin x Platonic! Reader, Billy Hargrove x Enemy! Reader

Season place; Season 3

Request; Maybe one with Steve (Harrington) where Reader is the oldest Byers sibling and is dating Steve (it’s after Nancy and Jonathan got together) and reader is kidnapped with Steve instead of Robin, and reader breaks down explains that she keeps dragging Steve into danger with the upside down and stuff (maybe she got taken into the upside down around season two?) and Steve reassures her that he’s staying to keep her safe. They escape the Russian base and end up fighting the find flayer and reader protects El from Billy which ends up getting the reader hurt, and Billy ends up protecting the reader and getting killed by the mind flayer and Joyce lets reader choose between staying in Hawkins with Steve (because shes 19) or move out with her mom and brothers (you choose)(I’m sorry it’s so long but I wanted to include as much detail asp!)

Warnings; Reader and Steve are beaten up, reader suffers from trama of the Upside Down, mention of blood, way too much fluff, angst

Tags; (okay, so I went back to the post I made for all my stranger things posts, and saw all of you wanted to be tagged in either all the Steve shots, or all of the stranger things shots, if you would like to be removed from the tags or added, please let me know!) @irreplaceable-ecstasy @rexorangecouny @fraeppuccino @spider-boyparker @itsfangirlmendes @tellmyselflies @xkotkuu @scarletmeii @krazykatkay456 @idumpyourgrass @strangerpotternatural

Upcoming One Shot; Leonard Snart x Reader

Note; At the moment I am only taking requests for Stranger Things and Marvel! This has a very long introduction so I apologize in advance! But I’m honestly super proud of this (very long) story so please enjoy!

Amount needed for 2k followers; 322

Gif(s);

The Byers family has been through a lot. It was obvious if you looked at any of the four members. In the last three years, one of the Byers siblings went missing, came back only for the other sibling to disappear, and when they were both safe at home, they had begun to see hallucinations.

Joyce Byers knew what she was doing, but people thought she was crazy. When Will first went missing, her Christmas lights flickered, she heard a voice in her phone that then burned itself out, and some thing came out of the wall.

Jonathan and Y/N thought their mother was going nuts. But it wasn’t until both of them, plus Steve and Nancy, saw the Demogorgan in their home and then put it to flames.

Will was safe, officially, after near months. But the family was still shaken. Seven months after Will had been found by Joyce and Jim, Y/N never met up with Jonathan at his car after school, and she was reported missing when she never returned home that night.

Then Joyce started getting the signs again. The Christmas lights that hadn’t been touched in seven months flicked occasionally, their new bought phone was burnt to the touch, but, thankfully, there was no thing in the wall.

Y/N was found in a short time span of three weeks. With the experience and knowledge everyone had from Wills disappearance, they knew how to handle the Demogorgans, and get you out of the Upside Down as quickly as they could.

Eleven succeeded in closing the Gate, bringing us to 1985. Your day in Hawkins was normal, or as normal as it could get. Jonathan had dropped you off at the Hendersons house on his way to work, Claudia calling you in to announce that Dustin was home from camp,

Then it progressively got weirder. Dustin claimed to have a girlfriend out of Hawkins and dragged you and the party to the hills, with a stereo in an attempt to contact this Susie. The party was quick to not believe his antics, which left you to feeling bad and stating you believed him (but did you?)

Then a Russian code was found on the stereo, which led you to Scoops Ahoy to break the code and figure out what secrets it beheld,

Now, in the time span of twenty four hours, you had snuck into a Russian base (with Lucas’ younger sister that took you a lot of convincing to join), been spotted by said Russians, and now you and Steve were probably going to die by Russians,

“Let me go!” Your hand had freed itself from the Russian guards grip, and you had ended up shoved into a wall, threatened, then dropped and tied to a chair, back to back with your boyfriend of ten months, Steve,

“I knew we shouldn’t have come here,” Steve hears you mumble this three times, before his hand, that too, were tied back, grabbed yours, holding it tightly,

“Hey,” His spoken words cause you to fall silent, “We’re gonna get out of here, yeah? Dustin, Robin and Erica are probably thinking of a plan right now,”

Your head falls back so it knocked against his, lightly, eyes shutting in an attempt to calm your racing heart and steady your breathing, “I can’t believe I let Dustin sneak into a Russian base, God, Ms. Henderson’s gonna kill me,” You drop your head forward, eyes pinching shut before you place your head in the before position, “This is my fault,”

“How is this your fault?” Steve turns his head, your own turning so your cheeks almost touched,

“I dragged you guys into this mess, since the beginning,” You tilt your head down, as your eyes began to burn from hidden tears, “The demogorgans, the hospital, now the Russians trying to open the gate, my family was envolved with it all. I don’t know why you stuck with me all this time,”

“It is not your fault, do you hear me?” Steven demands, bumping your shoulder so you lifted your head, “And I’m always going to stick with you, Y/N. I’m not going to let something like this tear me from you, I’m always going to keep you safe,”

“That was so cheesy,” You murmur, Steve grinning as he facer forward and leans his head back against yours,

“You do things to me, Byers,” He mutters, and you inhale a deep breath, ignoring the taste of blood on your tongue from where the Russian leader punched you in the mouth,

“What if we don’t get out of here?” You ask, quietly, almost hoping that Steve couldn’t hear you. You would only bring his confidence down,

“Then we’ll be together,” Steve answers, not seeing the smile your lips pulled into as your eyes shut in exhaustion,

You almost find yourself dozing off with Steve’s fingers linking through yours, for any search of physical contact, but the way the hidden rooms door throws open startles you to sit up straight, eyes snapping to the three people huddled at the door,

“Thank God!” Dustin hisses out a whisper yell, running forward to untie Steve’s hands as Robin does yours, pulling you to stand straight,

“Are you okay?” She asks, worriedly, eyes flicking to the blood at your lip, “You’re bleeding,”

“I’m fine,” You raise the sleeve of your plaid shirt to rub away the mix of dry and fresh blood, turning to Steve and holding a hand up to hover your fingers over the black around his eye,

“It looks bad,” You whisper, Steve taking your hand, and quickly kissing the back of it, he smiles,

“I’m fine,” He mocks, and you squint your eyes before following Dustin out into the halls, “Now how the hell do we get out of here?”

“Good news,” Dustin starts, “We found a way out. But it’s a bit of a walk,”

“Anywhere as long as it’s not here,” You grumble, and look down the hall that Dustin had pulled you into. The end was narrow, and it looked to be, without exaggeration, over a mile away, “Holy shit,”

“Told you,” Dustin waves a hand, and you share a glance with Steve, shrugging and walking after the young teenager,

. . .

“I can’t believe we made it out of there,” Robin throws her hands up and exhales an exaggerated breath, Erica scoffing beside her,

“I don’t know how you fools survived,” She crosses her arms, looking at Dustin then Steve, “He barely did with that black eye,”

“Hey,” Steve warns, eyes shifting to you when your walking seems to pick up, and he looks forward towards the group of nine in the food court,

“Y/N!” Joyce shouts, her figure moving away from Jim to run up to you, her hands coming up to your face protectively, “Baby what happened?”

“There’s a secret Russian base underneath the mall!” Dustin speaks up, as Joyce looks to him, and you step away from your mother to embrace Jonathan,

“It’s a long story,” Steve waves off, and you let Will tuck himself into your side,

“You okay?” You ask your younger brother, who nods meekly and smiles up at you, but frowns at your busted lip,

“Okay, we all have a plan,” Mike steps up to the new group, eyes flicking between everyone, “We’ll be going in groups, each group needs to take one of these,” In his arms are four talkies,

“Whoa whoa, where will everyone be going?” Steve asks, as you release Will to take a talkie,

“Someone still needs to go and stop the gate from reopening,” Lucas informs, and you furrow your eyebrows,

“Thats back at the base, we have to go back there?” You point to your lip, then to Steve’s eye, “We were kidnapped by Russians, we’re not going back,”

“That’s why your mother and I will,” Jim snatches one of the talkies, looking at you, “You and your brothers will be somewhere where it’s safe,”

“No one is safe right now!” You remind,

“Y/N’s right,” Mike swallows, “The Mindflayer is on it’s way here now. Billy too, so we gotta get in positions, quick,”

“Okay, fine,” You sigh, rubbing your temple, “Where’s everyone going?” You ask a repeat of Steve’s question,

“We have fireworks that will be able to slow down the Mindflayer,” Mike points to the box at Nancys feet, “All of us will stay up here and distract it long enough for the gate to remain closed. Once Billy gets here he’s going to go after El, so we need to keep them separated,”

“Think we can do that?” You frown, looking at Steve,

“I fought him once I could do it again,” Steve shrugs, and you squint your eyes,

“You lost that fight, Steve,”

“We don’t talk about it!” Steve protests, and takes your talkie, “We should spread out through the food court in case one of us is cornered,”

“We’re going down below,” Jim informs, and when he turns to El, Joyce is pulling on your wrist and pulling both Jonathan and Will against you,

“Please be safe you three,” She pleas, almost sniffling, “Take care of each other, do not let one or the other out of sight,”

“Yes mom,” You smile, sliding an arm around her shoulder, “Dont worry about us, help Hopper with the gate,”

“I will,” Joyce nods, hesitantly releasing her only daughter, looking up at Jonathan, “Please keep an eye on them,”

“Mom,” You groan, “Who’s the older sibling here?” Joyce steps back, waving as she follows Jim and Murray in the direction you came in,

“Okay,” Nancy claps her hands, heaving a deep breath, “Lets do this,”

“Steve, Robin, and Y/N, you guys can go behind the counter,” Mike lifts one of the boxes, handing it to Steve and giving you a lighter, “It’ll give you the front view. Max and I will find a way to get El out of here, Dustin, Lucas, Erica, Will, you guys take upstairs. Nancy and Jonathan, work on the car and see if you can get it working, then we all get the hell out of here,”

“Got it,” You nod, looking around when no one moves, “Go! Go, come on!”

Everyone darts to their designated spots, Steve leaping over the counter and squatting beside Robin, as you pick up a firework, inhaling quick, deep breaths,

“If you need us to take over, tell us,” Steve orders, watching you nod and raise to look over the counter, jolting when the glass roof above shatters, and a large -thing- jumps down into the middle of StarCourt Mall

You hear Robin whisper shout a rushed “Holy shit!” before Steve is shoving a firework into her hands, and he stands up beside you,

You fumble with the lighter in your hand and set the firework off in Steve’s grip, ducking in time for him to draw his arm back and chuck the firework at the MindFlayers front,

It explodes on one of the tentacles (thing) the MindFlayer shrieking out loud as the four kids on the second floor rush to the edge, all dropping their own fireworks onto the top of the monster.

“We’re already running out, quick,” You heave a deep breath, leaning up on the counter after a full five minutes of tossing firework after firework,

“What’d we do when we do run out?” Robin panics, moving to Steve’s other side, “Just stand here?”

“El can’t hold that thing or Billy off,” You wipe a layer of sweat from your forehead, watching in alert when Billy jerks Eleven to the floor and pins her. Billy was basically radiating anger. “Steve, give me your bat,”

“What?” Steve narrows his eyes, eyes flicking between you and the two feet away, “No. No way,”

“Steve, dammit, give me your bat!” You demand, hand out, “I’ve fought way worse things than Billy, I can take him,”

Steve clenches his jaw, lifting his nailed bat from its place leant against the counter, and he shifts it to hold out the handle, “Be careful. Beat his ass,”

You inhale a deep breath, stepping out from behind the counter and holding up the bat, eyes shifting between the MindFlayer growling and Billy snarling at El,

“Hey! Hargrove!” Your shout drags Billy’s eyes away from the young girl beneath him, his fury blown eyes instantly landing on your figure, “Get the hell away from her!”

“No, (Y/N/N),” Eleven begins to sit up, Billy putting a large hand against her face, slamming her head down onto the tiles so she shut her eyes in surprise, and remained on the floor when Billy stood up, his fists causing his knuckles to burn white,

“Come at me,” You mutter, swinging the bat the same way you’ve seen Steve do, “Come at me!”

Billy grins, booted feet stomping towards you, guiding you to walk backwards twice, startled,

“This is gonna hurt like a bitch,” You warn, Billy beginning to hurl at you, causing you to pinch your eyes shut and swing, the loud thud of his body forcing your eyes back open, shocked to see Billy holding his side, with multiple holes leaking blood from the nails of the bat,

“Holy shit,” You step back, looking up at the MindFlayer as it shrieked, “Holy shit. I did it,”

“Y/N!” Steve and Robin both call in a startled panic, and you lower the bat to turn to them, “Get out of the way!”

You look forward to find why they were freaking out, gasping when Billy grabs the bat, unharmed, jerking it from your hands and tossing it behind him, eyes narrowed,

You bite your tongue and slowly step back, Billy reaching out and grabbing the front of your shirt, shoving you onto the ground so your head, too, knocked against the concrete, forcing you to release a pained groan,

“Get me a firework!” Steve rushes, eyes wide as he waves a frantic hand to a fumbling Robin, “Come on!”

“Wait, wait!” Lucas and Dustin run up to Steve, Dustin holding up one hand, the other pointing, “Look,”

Billy had physically loosened his strength on your shirt, and his eyes now bored into yours in a mixture of confusion, surprise, and fear. You gasp in a deep breath as you stared back, eyes burning from the tears that threatened to spill

The roar of the MindFlayer jerks Billy’s head up, seeing that the MindFlayer was now leaning over Billy, who hovered over you, and Billy pushes away from the ground to sit back on his knees, standing up to face the MindFlayer,

You sit up onto your elbows, Steve running up behind you and grabbing your arms, pulling you back to hide behind one of the concrete posts and cover your head with a hand,

You’re not quite sure what happened after that. Billy was dead, for sure, being murdered by the MindFlayer straight to the chest. Jim Hopper was dead, too. The portal had exploded, your mother claimed that Jim was no where to be found. Two lives were lost that night.

“You okay?” You and Steve sat in the middle of your bedroom, piles of folded clothes, boxes, and little accessories litering the carpet floor,

You look up from where you folded a pair of jeans, Steve lowering the shirt he was folding to stare at you,

Your lip had begun to heal, the paramedic claiming that a scar could be possible where the cut split into your chin,

“Yeah,” You nod, setting the jeans into the box and picking up the picture frames beside you, dragging a box labeled ‘Fragile’ up to you, “I’m just thinking,”

“About what?” Steve move the box of jeans to scoot up closer to you, waiting for you to close the fragile box before taking your hands,

“Everything,” You release a breathy laugh, swallowing down the lodge in your throat, “Everything with the Upside Down, losing Bob last year, us. We’ve made so many memories here in Hawkins, so many fights, so many sleepovers with the party. I’m not ready to leave it behind,”

“I know,” Steve sighs, your head looking down before raising when he curls a hand beneath your jaw, “Hey, we’re gonna be okay,” Steve smiles, “We got this. Just you and me, Y/N and Steve,”

“That rhymed,” You snort, Steve rolling his eyes,

“Move in with me,” Steve murmurs, and you almost don’t hear it even though his nose is touching yours,

“What?” You lean back, slightly, meeting his eyes for any signs of a joke,

“Move in with me. We’re both over eighteen, you’re an adult now, and my parents love you, they’d love for you to live with us,” Steve suggests, standing at you,

“But what about my mom?” You breathe, shakily, “My brothers?”

“Y/N, you can’t always depend on your brothers to be there,” Steve admits, honestly, “Jonathan’s gonna want to move out soon, too. Your mom needs to remember you’re not a baby anymore,”

“Do you really think your parents will let me stay?” You ask, Steve smiling and shrugging a shoulder,

“I already talked to them. It’s all up to you and you mom, babe,”

You inhale a deep breath, looking around at the boxes surrounding you. You nod, standing up, “I’ll be right back,”

You step into the hallway of your now empty house, making your way to the kitchen where you knew your mother was packing silverware, “Mom?”

Joyce looks up from lowering glass plates into a cushioned box, smiling softly at your figure, “Hey, sweetie. You and Steve almost done packing?”

“We have a couple more boxes left,” You answer, quietly, stepping further into the kitchen, “Mom, can I talk to you?”

Joyce closes the box with tape, scribbling ‘fragile’ on the cardboard before looking back up at you, “Sure, sweetheart, what is it?”

She notices your jaw shift from biting down on your tongue, a habit of worry you’ve gained when you were younger. You fiddle with your hands, before meeting her eyes, “I think I want to move in with Steve,”

Joyce blinks, slowly at your words, and you can see the gears in her head moving, “Are you sure?”

You suck in another breath, nodding, quickly, “I’m sure. I really love him, mom. I don’t think I could handle leaving, and I love Hawkins so much. I’m nineteen, I think it’s time for me to leave the nest,”

“I know,” Joyce blinks again, wiping away the tear that escaped her eye, “I know you’re not my little girl anymore, and I guess I need to accept it,” She smiles, nodding, “You can move with Steve,”

“Seriously?” You gasp, Joyce laughing when you round the table to embrace her, “Thank you, so much,”

“I love you sweetheart,” Joyce wraps her arms right around your back, sniffling, “I better get phone calls weekly,”

“Yes mom,” You lean back, Joyce cupping the side of your face delicately,

“I need to tell your brothers,” Joyce sighs, looking towards the open door where Will and Jonathan were loading boxes into the Uhaul with the party,

“I’m going to let Steve know,” You pull away from her, almost skipping back to your bedroom at the end of the hall,

Steve notices your wide and teary smile, standing up so he was eye to eye with you, “So...?”

“I’m moving in with you,” You walk up to him, Steve smiling and pulling you against his chest, lips pressing to your temple, longingly,

“I love you,” He whispers, hearing the footsteps of your brothers, “I know it’s going to be hard leaving them,”

You smile, leaning back in time for Will to stand at your bedroom door, eyes watering, “You’re not coming with us?”

“Hey buddy,” You tug on Wills arm to sit him beside you on your bare mattress, your arms sliding around his shoulders and pulling him against you, “It’s time for me to go out on my own,”

“But what about,” Will looks at Steve and Jonathan, then back to you, “What about when I have nightmares from the Upside Down?”

“Then you can call me, always,” You squeeze him tighter, sniffling, “I’ll give you the number to Steve’s house phone, if you ever need me, no matter what for, call me,”

“It’s gonna be weird with only one girl around the house now,” Jonathan presses his lips together in a tight smile, looking at Steve, “Hurt her and I’ll drive back how many hours to beat your ass,”

“Don’t doubt it,” Steve grins, and looks over when Joyce steps into the bedroom,

“We’re set to leave,” She informs, quietly, noticing Wills tears, “Oh honey, I know it’s hard not having Y/N come with us,” She moves forward, arms wrapping around you and her youngest, “But it’s gonna be okay, we’ll always come down for holidays and vise versa,”

“Love you mom,” You sigh weakly, leaning into her shoulder. Her arm around you tightens, before she leans back and wipes her cheek,

“I set the keys on the kitchen counter,” She looks at Steve, “You two can finish packing your things, lock the door when you leave,”

“No problem Ms. Byers,” Steve plays a salute, and Joyce smiles, standing up to her feet,

“We should get going,” After fifteen minutes of constant hugs between the party, you wave to the car and Uhaul driving off, your waves becoming more frantic before they turn a corner, out of sight,

“Ready?” Steve extends his hand, to lead you back into the house to finish packing. Your eyes look down at his hand then up to your childhood home, before you take his hand in yours, to the beginning of a new life in Hawkins.

[statusquoergo]

'tis the season ... for prompts:) May I ask for Marvey with 13? I think we are all in need of a bit of cheering:} And thank you for doing this, and all of the fics you've written so far, your words always manage to brighten my days! <3

Absolutely you may, and thank you for the prompt! And for saying such kind things about my fics, I really appreciate that a lot. Indeed we could all do with a bit of cheering, it’s been one hell of a year... Well! I hope this helps a little!

Things you said at the kitchen table

[Read on AO3]

They don’t always have time for breakfast. Well, that’s not strictly true; they run the firm, they can show up whenever they feel like it and no one would say a damn thing. Breakfast could take three hours, if they wanted it to, they could waltz in the doors at half past eleven without anything that even sounded like an apology. Not that they would; not that Harvey would be so irresponsible, not that Mike would leave their employees hanging like that, but if they wanted to, theoretically. The option is there.

Sundays, though. Sundays are for them.

What that usually means is that Sundays are for sleeping in, but every once in a while, every now and then, the day hits a little different, the sun shines a little brighter, and the rich aroma of a freshly brewed pot of coffee tempts Mike out of bed toward the sizzle of frying bacon or a slab of french toast or whatever Harvey’s in the mood to whip up that day. Those mornings are the his favorites. Not that Sundays aren’t always great, but those Sundays are the best.

Usually.

This Sunday morning in particular, Mike is lured into the kitchen by the percolating coffeemaker to find Harvey at the stove, flipping blueberry pancakes and tending to a small saucepan of maple syrup warming over a low flame with a very private smile on his face that vanishes the instant he notices Mike settling in at the island. And Mike appreciates the indulgence of it all, and the effort Harvey is putting in and everything, but that smile thing, that’s a little…odd. Is Harvey going to tell him something he doesn’t want to hear? Ask him to do something he doesn’t want to do? There’s not much in the world Mike would deny him, he should know that much, so what…

Wait. Wait, shit, wait, this is about the Andretti case. This is about Yorker and Harrison suddenly threatening to pull out of the merger agreement Harvey’s favorite associate has been working on for the past six months if Andretti doesn’t double his capital investments by like…Friday, or something. Harvey is going to ask him to storm the barricades and pull a solution out of thin air to save the day. This isn’t breakfast, this is a bribe.

God dammit, Harvey. He’s not falling for that one, not again.

He can’t come right out and refuse it point blank, though. For one thing, Harvey might suddenly stop cooking like the petulant little shit he is, and Mike really doesn’t want to waste all that food when he could eat it instead. For another, it’s not as though Harvey would give up trying to get him to sign on to the project after one measly rejection, and Mike doesn’t particularly want to spend the entirety of the next week on pins and needles, sunk into a paranoid haze where every nice thing his boyfriend says to him is a just another stepping stone toward begging him to pull out his white cape and play Avenging Attorney.

Fine. He can play the long game, too. Putting a big old smile on his face, Mike leans across the counter and takes a pointed sniff of the oncoming feast that makes Harvey turn around with an answering grin, the spatula nearly slipping from his hand before he tightens his grip.

“Morning,” he says, turning back to the stove.

“Morning,” Mike echoes, settling back into his chair. “Blueberry?”

“Sorry, we were out of chocolate chips.”

“We definitely aren’t, but I might be able to forgive you if the orange juice is fresh squeezed.”

Harvey snorts an undignified little laugh; he must know Mike is going to turn him down. “Have you always been this needy?” he asks lightly.

“The word you’re looking for is ‘driven.’”

“The word I’m looking for is ‘demanding.’”

Mike shrugs. “At least I know what I want.”

Or don’t want. Go on, just try passing this one off. See how far you get.

Harvey plates a couple of pancakes and shakes his head. “The crap I put up with from you…”

Kind of a weird segue into asking such a big favor, but Mike won’t be fooled into dropping his guard just yet. He’s no rookie.

“I’d say we’re on pretty equal ground there.”

“Yeah.” Harvey turns off the burners and reaches into the cabinet for a carafe for the syrup. “You might be right.”

Mike frowns. Harvey isn’t even going to make a token argument against that? No fight at all? Huh. It’s not the worst tactic he could’ve chosen; too bad for him, Mike came prepared.

“I know I am.”

Harvey just smiles as he sets a plate down in front of Mike, and this is starting to get a little creepy. Might as well start the ball rolling, then; better to get it over with.

“So,” Mike says, pulling the carafe toward himself, “anything special you wanted to do today?”

Harvey shakes his head and picks up his fork.

“I didn’t have anything in mind.”

Mike nods slowly. “Right,” he says. “So… Okay then.”

They eat in silence until Mike’s stack of pancakes is reduced by half, and Harvey seems to have finished about…one.

Mike drops his fork down on the counter. “Alright what—”

“Actually there—”

They both cut themselves off, and Mike narrows his eyes as Harvey widens his.

“What?”

“No,” Mike says. “No, what were you going to say?”

There are only so many hours in the day, and the sooner this is over and done with, the sooner he can relax and enjoy them. He grits his teeth as Harvey takes a breath and drops his hands down to his lap.

“Actually,” Harvey repeats, “there was something I wanted to do today.”

“Oh yeah?” Mike smiles tightly. “What’s that?”

Harvey casts his eyes down for a minute, not completely closed but definitely turned away. Wait, so, wait, actually, maybe this isn’t about the Andretti case. Maybe this isn’t about work at all. Or— Is it? Anything with as much buildup as this has to be big. Maybe—maybe Harvey is sick of the firm. Maybe he’s finally gotten sick of the grind, sick of the hours and hours of his life he’s given over to the law, everything he’s lost, all the sacrifices he’s made. Maybe he needs a change, maybe he wants to start over in some little town in Iowa where nobody knows his name, to throw away the life he’s built for himself, the life they’ve built for themselves, maybe— Maybe he wants Mike to throw his life away too, to go somewhere else and find something new, to start from scratch and build themselves from the ground back up.

And maybe he’s afraid to ask Mike to make that kind of sacrifice, maybe he’s afraid he’ll say no, because he would, wouldn’t he? Would he? Would it be so bad, really, to start over together? To make a life together, something just for them where they could be whoever, whatever they wanted? Could they do it? Would they make it? Would Mike be willing to try? Would Harvey go without him if he wasn’t? Would Mike let himself be trapped into a relationship so lopsided, so dismissive of his wants and needs, so shaped around Harvey’s sudden wanderlust? Would Harvey be able to stand it, doing that to him? Knowing he was doing it to himself? Is that what this is all about, is that what all of this is hurtling toward? Is it?

Rationally, probably not. In all likelihood.

But what if it is?

Mike blinks a couple of times, coming out of his own head to find Harvey looking at him with the most intensely calm expression Mike has ever seen on anybody, anywhere, ever.

“Mike,” Harvey says. “You— Do you like your life? Our life together?”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. All these goddamn questions and no fucking answers, how dare Harvey spring this on him without any warning? That bastard, what’s he trying to pull?

“Yes,” Mike says slowly. “Are we breaking up?”

Harvey’s lips twist into a smirk, his shoulders twitching back. “Not on my account. Do you want to?”

Mike frowns. “No?”

“Well that’s good.” Harvey’s arm moves like he’s put his hand on his hip, or into his pocket, and he leans forward as Mike’s eyes dart toward the motion and then back up to Harvey’s face. “Because I was thinking about making my mistake official.”

Making— What? He isn’t— This isn’t— This couldn’t—

What?

Harvey grins in that way he has where his eyes sparkle and crinkle up at the corners, his mouth wide like he’s trying not to show his teeth because it’s the only way to keep himself from laughing, and he pushes a little black velvet box forward that can’t possibly mean anything other than exactly what it means, that can’t possibly hold anything other than what Mike knows it must, and this is— He can’t— This doesn’t—

What?

“Mike.”

With enormous effort, Mike wrenches his eyes away from the box and fixes them on Harvey’s.

“So will you marry me or what?”

“I.”

A second ticks by, and then another, and two more. Maybe three. Harvey reaches out to open the box, the heavy platinum band glinting as he nudges it closer.

“What do you say?”

What—

“I say— I say yes.” Mike stares down at the ring. “I mean. Obviously. Yes.”

Being that Mike seems to have more or less frozen in his seat, Harvey slips the ring from its velvet pillow and motions for him to lift his hand.

“You seem surprised,” Harvey teases, sliding the ring onto Mike’s finger. A perfect fit, naturally; Mike doesn’t even know his own ring size, how the hell did Harvey figure it out?

“A little bit, yeah,” Mike says, tilting his hand to catch the light. “I thought you were going to ask me to take over the Andretti case.”

Harvey tilts his head. “Well, now that you mention it…”

“No.”

“Yeah, fine, so are you gonna kiss me or what?”

“God, Harvey, have you always been this needy?”

(But Mike kisses him anyway.)

[louisapennyfeather2021]

Can you do a newsies JoJo x reader where JoJo was self conscious bc all the other boys thought he was a pushover, so the reader comforts him

I did it! I finished this before Friday! Successfully, I think!

Anyway, here is a nice little Jojo x reader fic!

Reader is referred to in They/Them pronouns.

Warning: just the Newsies doing something really dumb.

A/N: I wrote this in about an hour because I have not a lot of school work(unless we're talking about updating Welcome to Camp. Then I have tok much school work and very little inspiration)

***

"Betcha won't do it!"

"C'mon, Jo, ain't gonna be that bad!"

"You ain't scared, are ya?"

"'Course I'm not!" Jojo huffs, briefly narrowing his eyes at Ike as he silently mocks Jojo before him and the others start cackling again.

"I can give ya a pass out, but it'd cost ya." Race jabs his elbow into one of the other fellas, keeping up a cool exposure. While the others keep on laughing, Race gives Jojo a look. It's the look Race always gives him whenever the other guys try to get Jojo to do something. Race is no stranger to antagonizing and teasing, but it's no secret that he's willing to keep his really close friends from doing something that makes them too uncomfortable. No Newsie purposefully oversteps boundaries, but there are a few like the twins who just don't know where the boundary line is.

"It's just a bet, 'less you're too scared you'll get stuck!" Mike grins. Of course, his outlandish bet has something to do with climbing a fire escape and then jumping to try and swing on a lamp post.

"I told ya, I ain't scared!" Jojo snaps, clenching his jaw before stalking towards the fire escape. He climbs it, focusing on the fellas cheering and laughing still as a distraction. Jojo gets to the platform level with the top of a lamp post and he clenches his fists. It's just one of the posts outside the lodge, but for some reason it seems miles away.

"Don't chicken out now, Jo!" One of the guys yells from below. Jojo, despite the feeling in his stomach telling him to stop, squares his feet, takes a deep breath, and launches himself at the lamp post.

***

"Of all the idiotic, no brain things ya could'a done, it had to be jumpin' off a fire escape?" Jack shakes his head and crosses his arms.

"Keep your pants on, Kelly. Jo was just tryin' ta get the fellas to shut up." From next to Jojo's bunk, the one and only Y/N of the Manhattan Newsies uses a damp rag to wipe at Jojo's scrapes. They use a cleaner rag to wipe around the huge bump on Jojo's forehead, making the newsie flinch and wince.

"That ain't no excuse, Y/N! He jumped from a freakin' fire escape. The Newsies of Manhattan are many things, but fire escape jumpers ain't one'a them!" Jack paces back and forth, throwing his hands up. Jack mutters to himself while Y/N shares an exasperated look with Jojo. This goes on until Y/N had a bandage around the knot on Jojo's head. Well, it's more like torn fabric from old bed sheets and not a bandage, but it does the job. Jack comes to a stop with his hands on his hips. "They make ya do it?"

"No one made me do anythin'." Jojo mumbles, his head bowed in what can only be assumed as embarrassment. Jack raises an eyebrow at Jojo and stares at him until the boy looks up and huffs. "They bet me, but have me a way out b'fore I did anythin'. S'my fault it happened. Just let it go Jack."

"Uh-uh, no way. I'm gonna go have a chat with the fellas about not makin' each other do dumb stuff that gets ya hurt." Jack storms out of the bunk room and Jojo groans in annoyance. Y/N has to bite back a laugh when Jojo starts trying to rub his forehead and he flinches when he hits his bump.

"Maybe take Race up on his offer on an out next time." Y/N offers with a tight smile. Jojo sends them an unamused look. This isn't the first time Y/N has had to deal with the aftermath of a bet gone wrong with the fellas, specifically Jojo. It just so happens that Jack somehow found out and is now mother bearing out on everyone.

"I ain't gonna look like a baby in front'a the fellas. S'ides, I've been through worse." Jojo mutters. Y/N silently wonders why Jojo keeps putting himself through so much, specifically when it comes to taking bets. Maybe he thinks he's being brave or something. Suddenly Jojo's standing and moving towards the door to the bunk room. "M'gonna go get Jack b'fore he gets too upset 'bout it." Jojo calls over his shoulder. Y/N follows, knowing from experience that Jojo could get dizzy and fall on his face from the hit to his head. Y/N can't figure out how he was so alert when Race brought Jojo into the bunk room. When Race told Y/N what height Jojo jumped from on a bet, Y/N had a panicky feeling that maybe Jojo's head had taken too much damage.

"Slow down b'fore you make yourself sick!" Y/N calls after Jojo. The boy keeps walking, briefly rolling his eyes. Y/N has always tried mothering the rest of the Newsies, although their habit tends to be heightened with their more frequently hurt newsies. To put it simply, Y/N sees a lot of Jojo.

"M'not gonna get sick, i-" Jojo stops at the door of the lodging house. It's cracked open with the warm evening breeze of July giving some relief to the heat of the day.

"- you fellas gotta stop with the bets, someone's gonna get seriously hurt." Jack scolds from outside. He's not too far from the door, but he's not right in front of it.

"Hey, it ain't our fault Jo's such a pushover!"

"Yeah, this wouldn't be a problem if he'd just grow a pair 'nd tell us t' stop!"

"It ain't got nothin' t' do with that. What it does gotta do with is that you guys don't know when t' stop." Jack goes on to scold the fellas even more, but Y/N is more focused on Jojo's deep frown and the way his eyebrows turn up.

He turns quickly and hurries through the lodging house towards the stairs. He skips steps to the top and disappears behind one of the walls. Y/N doesn't follow him, being more focused on the other side of the door. They don't hesitate to grab the metal handle and pull the door open. Jack stops mid-sentence and all eyes turn to Y/N.

"I hope you fellas are happy. Blamin' Jojo instead of yourselves 'cause ya don't wanna take responsibility for your friend gettin' hurt. It ain't his fault you guys tease him 'till he gives in. And don't pretend like this is the first time this has happened." Y/N snaps. They wait long enough to see everyone's bowed heads before they turn around and hurry back inside. They hear Jack make some weird noises before his voice gets louder, asking about how this isn't the first time this has happened. Y/N just shakes their head and hurries up the steps after Jojo.

They don't find him in the narrow hallway, but they do notice one of the windows leading to the fire escape is open. Y/N sighs and hurries over to the window. They peek out of the window before squeezing out of the window. Jojo sits near the railing with his knees pulled up and his arms resting on top of them. He's looking down the alleyway with his cheek on one arm.

"Ya ain't gonna jump again, are ya?" Y/N asks. Jojo jumps and his head whips around to Y/N. He huffs and rolls his eyes before looking at the wall of the building on the other side of the alley.

"Wouldn't dream of it, don't wanna be a pushover, right?" Jojo scoffs and starts picking at his pant leg where his knee bends. Y/N sighs and walks closer to Jojo. They slide down the brick wall of the lodging house until they're sitting next to Jojo, mimicking his position. Y/N picks at their nails as both newsies sit in silence, Jack's voice from occasionally echoing from the front of the building. Y/N snorts a laugh, shaking their head.

"Jack's gonna go nuts once everyone fesses up to all the dumb bets you fellas do." Y/N smiles at the wall across the street. Jojo scoffs quietly, making Y/N sigh. "Ya know, we've told you a lot that you don't listen to the fellas. They just say what comes into their heads and don't think about it."

"Hard t' ignore when they're right." Jojo mumbles.

"They ain't right 'nd you know it. The guys tease at folks 'nd don't stop 'til they get what they want. 'Nd if you don't do it, they tease you more. No crime to tryin' t' get a newsie t' shut up." Y/N briefly leans over to bump their shoulder against Jojo's. Jojo glances over at Y/N and seems to ponder the thought. Y/N huffs and quickly shrugs. "You tryin' tell me it's easy t' get newsies t' shut up."

"We both know that ain't true." Jojo snorts a laugh and Y/N starts laughing. The two laugh for a few seconds before taking deep breaths and relaxing into temporary silence.

"Listen, the fellas don't mean t' be the way the are 'nd we both know it. Just gotta ignore 'em, y'know?" Y/N reaches over and gently shoves Jojo's shoulder. They stand up and straighten their pants before looking down at Jojo. "I'm gonna go do damage control with Jack. Don't stay out here too long, don't need the fellas findin' you and gettin' anymore dumb ideas."

"Will do." Jojo mock salutes Y/N, receiving a half-hearted glare. "'Nd thanks, Y/N."

"S'no problem." Y/N grins before turning to the window and squeezing back inside.

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

always

summary:  Anything ‘x daughter’, with any of the losers, where their worst fear is her being dead, so when they get separated by it (not really taken, she just loses track of her parent(s), like in a different room or something), it makes them think she’s dead by showing them her ‘body’. 

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long to complete this! I chose to do one with Mike, I hope that’s okay! Let me know what you think! 

As soon as smoke started emerging from behind him, and Mike turned to see a door that hadn’t previously been there, he knew this had to be Pennywise’s doing.

He’d just finished making the last phone call, and now he would be impatiently awaiting for his friends to make their return to Derry and hopefully help him with defeating the evil entity that was still roaming Derry. With the calls out of the way, Mike could begin focusing on tying up other loose ends. There was still a lot on his to do list, like reading another one of his books to ensure his plan would work, and prepare a speech to keep the losers here in case they desperately wanted to leave.

Of course, the most pressing issue Mike had to resolve was none of those things. No, the most important thing he had to do was getting his daughter into safety. His daughter, who was now most likely on her way back from school, return home in about thirty minutes and was under no circumstances allowed to see IT in any of its manifestations. He didn’t want nightmares to roam her innocent childhood the way his had.  

The funny thing about nightmares, and terror however, is that it lingers you defenseless. It strips away at you until there’s nothing left but the purest form of fear, without any sense of logic or ability to fight back.

Despite closing his eyes and willing his heart to beat at a regular pace, the second Mike heard a girls voice, suspiciously a lot like his daughter Joy, he panicked. His eyes opened against his will, and he was yet again confronted with a sight that had yet to leave him in all of his forty two years of living.

Burned hands scribbled through a slit of the door, with agonized screams and pleas for elation and to stop it from hurting so much. The same faith that had been bestowed upon his parents and was later stolen by Pennywise to quell his hunger.

An old trick, one that should have stopped being as affective as it used to be but hasn’t but this time spiced up with a little more terror then before.

‘I know it’s you’, Mike calls out to the door. The screaming does not stop. ‘I know it’s you. I’m not afraid anymore. And soon, the others will get here and we will defeat you.’ His voice shakes a little, but Mike finds truth in his words. The losers will not abandon him, and there’s no way Pennywise can fight all of them.

He holds on to these thoughts, a mantra in his head that he refuses to cease, until a single sentence breaks his concentration and invokes a streak of so much fear, Mike’s knees wobble.

‘Daddy, please help me. Please.’ The yells of Joy echo in the room, so petrified tears begin building in Mike’s eyes.

‘Joy?’ He asks uncertain, inching closer to the door but angling his body away from it, ready to run in an instance. The scene is familiar, but the thought that Joy might be behind the door is throwing off Mike’s inhibitions. Which is exactly what Pennywise was counting on.

‘Daddy’, She shrieks, all other hands evaporating and only her hands still scratching the surface. ‘It burns, help me.’

All of Mike’s intelligence flies out the window. He surges forwards, forgetting that he’s seen this before a thousand times, and simply thinks of what’s happening to his little girl. There’s a small part of him still skeptical, a tiny piece that begs him to take a step back and breath. To simply look at the facts objectively. The larger part, of both his soul and his mind, pull at him to keep going, to wrench the door of it’s hinges and to save his little girl, the one he holds most dear to his heart.

Could this be part of IT’s plan? Yes. But is Mike going to risk it? Absolutely not.

‘Hold on Joy I’m coming. I’m here Joy don’t stop pushing.’ His fingers digs into the wooden material of the door, right besides Joy’s, and the smell of burning flesh slitters from behind the door, even more so as it’s tugged open a small bit.

Just as Mike thinks he’s got it, and the door might open completely, it slams shut again, trapping Joy and unrooting one of Mike’s fingernails. He howls in pain, tearing his hands of to inspect the damage out of reflex, before realizing he lost what small progress he had made.

‘No, No.’ He yells, pouncing on the door in an absolute fury. Joy’s screams are becoming quitter, less frantic and more drawn out, breathier and more accepting of her faith. Time is running out and Mike has no idea what to do to get her out.

‘Daddy, please. Why didn’t you save me?’ She starts to rasp, hands slowing down their crazed way of trying to escape, until they eventually fall still. A cough shivers through her so hard the door rattles.

Joy disappears behind the door, accompanied by one last cry, and then the silences envelopes Mike. He cries, sinking to his knees behind the door, not bothering to protect his face from the onslaught of smoke. ‘Please, not my daughter. Take me, I’ll take her place.’ No one answers.

Mike allows one scream to tear his heart, then falls forward on his hands and knees, still facing the door. ‘Joy,’ he wipers, tears ceasing to stop, sobs so harsh he misses footsteps approaching him.

‘Dad,’ the real Joy asks, standing in the open concept living room with her brows furrowed, flabbergasted and confused as to why her dad is so upset.

The addressed words make Mike falter, and he glances up from his positions. Joy, with her book bag failing from one shoulder, shuffles closer and checks the room to ensure there’s no danger.

‘Dad, are you okay? What happened?’

Mike rushes up from his spot, the door that once contained Joy’s helpless wailing is gone, not a sign of it left. He lets Joy drop her bookbag and then envelopes her with strong arms, sobs now muffled in her hair.

‘I’m alright dad,’ Joy says, sensing that he needs to hear it. Another sobs leaves Mike’s mouth, as curls his body around her.

‘And you always will be.’

[brashierc]

SD Card

Request:  Something happening to one of his camera and him blaming you when it turns out to be coz of someone else

***

You were the one to put his camera and SD cards away. He had left it out on the bus before he left with the boys to go celebrate a great show in Nashville. You had opted out of going, having a slight headache and wanting to chance to call your mom and not have a bunch of boys talking about bullshit in the background.

So since he knew you were the one to put his things away, you were the first he blamed when he couldn’t find the SD card.

“Y/n, literally where did you put it.” He groaned.

“I put it in your back, in the little zipper compartment on the side like you show’d me.” You sighed, repeating yourself for the third time.

“It’s not in here!” He snapped.

You looked up from your book, no longer willing to let his frustration roll off you. “Well did you fucking move it this morning?” You spit out at him.

“No! I haven’t touched this bag all day, I haven’t touched it since before the show yesterday. So you tell me, since you’re the one who moved it, what the fuck happened to it?” 

“I don’t know! I’ll tell you again. I saw your camera and card laying on the table when I got off the phone with my mom. I put it away so it wouldn’t get ruined or broken when everyone returned. I then set the bag on top of your suitcase so it would be with your things. That’s it!” 

He rolls his eyes, closing the bag and standing up from the little table. He stares at you on the bus couch, and his jaw clenches. 

“Do me a favor.” He practically growls. “Don’t touch my shit. That was three shows worth of footage that I’ve now lost thanks to you. I can’t afford to keep having you ruin things.” 

He turns and stalks away as you stare at his retreating figure. Tears well in your eyes, jaw dropped at the words he so easily let slip from past his lips. 

“Dude,” Brian leaned out of the small kitchen, finding Connor throwing some of his shit into his bunk. He turns and looks at you, watching as your cheeks go hot in embarrassment. 

You stand, reaching for your purse, slipping your sandals on, and walking off the bus with your book and phone in hand. You weren’t gonna sit there with the band and crew, allowing them all to stare at you.

‘I can’t afford to keep having you ruin things.’ 

It’s really the only thing that keeps replaying through your head. What else had you ruined? Did you really ruin things for him? 

Your phone starts ringing and you silence it, not wanting to talk to Brian. You just want a moment to yourself, so you can clear your head and allow his words to sink in. 

**

Connor stalks down the hall of the arena, angry that you’d lost his SD card, but also angry at himself for the way he treated you. He’d lost things of yours before an while you had been a little sad and disappointed you never became angry with him. You understood that accidents happen. 

“Connor!” Shawn calls, rushing to catch up with him. “Hey man, here’s your SD card back.” 

“My what?” Connor breathes out, looking down to see the exact card that was missing in the tattoo’d hand. 

“Yeah, I took it this morning to see if I could download and cut a few vids together. Got a call from my Social Media manager this morning. I guess I need to make another post about Tour and I wasn’t totally digging what I had prepared.” 

Connor’s speechless. 

“Everything looks great man, you’re really uping your game after every show. I’m loving all the shots you’re getting.” 

With that Shawn walks away, leaving a hollow Connor standing in the hall. 

**

He’s been looking for you all day, wants to apologize and hold you, let you cry and maybe even cry himself. 

He’s so disappointed in himself, he vowed to always be understanding with you, and at the first moment to prove that he snapped at you, and said things he never meant to say.

You didn’t come to the show, and you still weren’t at the arena by the time they were packing up the bus. You wouldn’t answer your phone calls or text messages and he was really starting to worry now. 

He kept pacing back and forth, biting at his thumb nail nervously.

“Con!” Brian yelled at him. “She just walked on the bus!” 

Connor looked over, spotting Brian and full on sprinting to the bus in the loading dock. 

He fell up the stairs in his mad dash to get to you, and he almost shoved Mike into the wall when he found you behind him in the hall. 

You were messing with your bunk, and when you sighed, resting your head against the ledge he reached out and touched your arm. You jumped, yelping as you stepped back from his hand before peering up at him. 

Your eyes are red and puffy from the time you spent crying, face a little swollen from the tears, cheeks still wet. 

“Oh Baby,” He cried, wrapping you up in his arms. 

You were wore out form your day of balling your eyes out. No energy left to fight against his hold. 

“I’m so sorry, so sorry.” He whispered in your ear.

“I’m sorry I lost your card. I swear I put it in your bag. But I’ll get you a new one. And maybe your right, maybe I am ruining this experience for you. So I’ll look for a flight home tomorrow. That way I won’t be in the way and lose things for you.” 

His heart was breaking at the croak of your voice, and the words you were saying.

“No! Baby no! I’m so sorry I accused you of misplacing my card. And I fucking hare myself for saying that you ruin things. You don’t, you’ve never ruined anything. You always make things better, you make things immensely better.” 

“I don’t, I’m in the way and I lost your-” 

“You’re not in the way!” He pulls back, hands on your shoulders so you have to look at him. “You’re not in the way. Ever! Don’t ever fucking say that again. And you didn’t,” He sighs. “You didn’t lose my card. Shawn had it the whole time. I didn’t know he took it.” 

You sigh in relief, eyes falling shut. “Thank fucking god, I was so scared that it was really lost.” 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, his own tears welling in his eyes. “I hurt you, and I promised never to do that. I won’t do it again, that’s not a promise that’s a swear. I’ll make it up to you.” 

“Think I’m gonna stay in my bunk tonight.” You whisper, looking to your bunk that you’ve made up with your blanket and pillow.

Since you joined tour you’ve crammed into Connor’s bunk, practically sleeping on each other, just to have the time to be with the other, the closeness. 

“No, Babygirl, please don’t.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. We’ll talk better next time, we’ll work together to solve the issue. I’ll really work on fighting with you and not against you.” 

You smile, nodding at the words you’ve wanted to hear him say all day. 

“I still need some time.” 

“Please Babygirl.” He tugs at his hair, breathing picked up and erratic. 

“Goodnight Connor, I’ll see you in the morning.” With that you kiss his cheek and climb into your bunk, pulling the curtain closed. 

You hear him take a deep breath and whisper an ‘I love you so much’ before he walks away. 

**

“Connor?” Shawn asks when Connor sits down, head in his hands, tears streaming down his face. “What happened? What’s wrong?” 

“She’s upset with me.” He cries out. 

“What?” 

“Fuck I hurt her so bad, and she’s upset, and is staying in her own bunk. And I don’t know what to do to make it up to her.” 

“What are you talking about?” Shawn moves to sit next to his friend, Brian now entering the room.

“This morning,” Connor hiccups.

“Yeah Dude, what the fuck was that? I’ve never seen you like that? And Y/n? Fuck man, it broke my heart to see her face.” 

“What are you talking about!” Shawn asks, looking between his friends. 

Connor can barely catch his breath, hiccuping with each deep breath he tries to take.

“This morning, Connor couldn’t find his SD card.” 

Shawn blanches and looks to Connor and then back to Brian. 

“And so he asked Y/n if she’d seen it since she put his camera away after the Nashville show. She told him that she’d put it in the bag where he always keeps it but it was gone. Connor asked her like 4 times, and by the fourth time with her having the same answer he like lost it.” 

Shawn’s just staring at Connor. “I yelled at her, and I told her not to touch my shit because I couldn’t afford to have her keep ruining things. But she’s never ruined anything!” 

“Oh my god, Connor.” Shawn tugs at his own curls. “Why didn’t you say anything? Fuck, Connor! I’m so sorry. Fuck man, if I’d just texted you I had it or left a note or something.” 

“It’s not your fault.” Connor shakes his head. “It’s mine. I’m the one who overreacted. I’m the one who hurt my girl. I’m the one who broke a promise to her and I’m the one who fucked up.” 

Brian and Shawn’s heads whip up when you stalk into the room. You walk to Connor, reaching down and grabbing the front of his shirt, pulling him up and out of the lounge area with you. He gasps, standing to his feet and quickly follows you until you nod to your bunk. 

He climbs in, noticing you’ve grabbed his pillow and favorite blanket. You climb up after him, pushing him around to lay in the position where you could lay on your stomach, head on his chest, right leg hiked up and tangled between both of his.

“We’ll work on fighting with each other and not against each other.” You murmur against his chest. “We’ll work on communicating better and not running off on the other when we’re really feeling strong emotions. You shouldn’t have said what you said and walked away, and I shouldn’t have run away all day after you said those things. We should have sat down and had a real conversation about how we were feeling and what we could do for the other at that moment. Whether it be give each other space or to work on resolving the issue.” 

He hums in agreement, running his fingers through your hair, hoping to soothe you. 

“I’m glad you found your card, I was extremely worried it was really lost. I won’t touch your things again, without your permission.” 

He holds you tighter. “You have my permission to touch my things at any moment. Thank you for thinking for me when you saw my things laying out. I should have been more responsible and put them away, but thank you for doing that for me. And thank you for letting me hold you right now, I don’t deserve you, but I’m gonna do everything in my power to show you everyday that you mean the absolute world to me.” 

“I love you Connor Brashier, we have a lot to talk about and work on, but right now? I’ve been crying all day, I have a headache and I’m extremely tired. So I wanna fall asleep on your chest and let your heartbeat soothe mine.” 

“I love you more, I love you so much more.” 

//

Written by: @shawnm521

[magniloquent-raven]

Ooh for your prompts: Fluffy Elmax sleepover with cuddling for #16 pls :') xoxox

i had such a good time writing this omg thank you!!! tho there’s a couple bits that threaten to be angst because im physically incapable of writing pure fluff lmao. it’s just tiny bits tho. just a smidge.

also, because s4 isn’t out yet i uh. kinda just did a time skip but didn’t rly change anything about how s3 left off? i know we know hopper’s alive but like. i guess he’s just still in russia in this fic LMAO rip. don’t think about it too hard

posted on ao3 as well :)

—-

Max’s watch timer beeps obnoxiously again. 8:36. El’s late. She hits snooze.

“When’s your friend supposed to be here, sweetie?”

“Soon, mom. You know, you and Neil don’t have to wait up.” They do this every time. Like Max isn’t almost seventeen and perfectly capable of being alone in her own damn house for five minutes. At this rate they’re going to be late for whatever thing it is they’re going to, and Neil will be even more of a bitch than usual.

Her mom glances over at him. He’s sitting in his armchair looking surly, checking his watch pointedly. Asshole.

“Well…I don’t think—”

Max hears a car pull up out front. “Oh, thank fuck,” she mutters, turning on her heel and marching out to greet the Byers’.

Joyce climbs out of the passenger seat as Max strides across the lawn. “Max, honey!” she waves, grinning bright, “How are you?” There’s always a…tone to how she asks that. Questions lurking under the surface that they don’t talk about. It makes Max’s insides all squirmy thinking about it, though she is on some level grateful for the concern.

Max stands on the curb, tugging on her earring. A habit by now. It’s both a comfort and a reminder. She got one hell of a lecture the day she came out of the bathroom with blood running down her neck and a safety pin in her earlobe, but she didn’t regret it for a second.

El slides out of the driver’s seat, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. Max watches her stand and adjust her shirt. She always looked good in yellow. “I’m good,” Max responds after a beat, and it’s honest for once.

The door behind her creaks. Probably her mom and Neil coming out of the house, hopefully to leave, finally. She doesn’t turn around, just steps into Joyce’s waiting arms and presses her face into her shoulder. Max is taller than her now, by a couple inches, so it hurts her neck a little, but it’s worth it.

Will’s still tucked away in the backseat, peering through the window, Max waves at him when she peeks up over Joyce’s shoulder.

Then El distracts her. “Your hair,” she says, gently tugging on a lock behind her ear. Max steps back from Joyce, and runs a hand through it, cheeks pink. Three years ago she’d hacked off all her hair with a pocket-knife, woke up the morning of Billy’s funeral with strands still stuck to her neck, locks hanging ragged across her forehead. Her mother had thrown a fit.

“Yeah, I cut it again,” Max says, like that wasn’t obvious. She’d let it grow out uneven and messy for a while, but she broke out the scissors again about a month ago. It’s neater than her last haircut, but not by much.

El’s hand is in Max’s hair again, dangerously close to her face. Max’s knees wobble a little.

“Bitchin’,” she says solemnly, after a few seconds of consideration.  

Max’s grin is blinding.

Her mother cuts in, before she can respond, gives her the usual talk about staying in the house and making sure she’s got her emergency numbers memorized. Then she bids them all a hasty, distracted goodbye. Her mom was never very comfortable about the Byers’. Probably something about Joyce’s too-knowing gaze, or the fact that El glares daggers at Neil every time he’s within range.

She’s doing it now. Watching him get into his truck with a quiet rage in her eyes. Joyce puts a hand on her elbow, and it doesn’t move until Neil’s truck has turned the corner at the end of the street.

“We should get going,” Joyce says, checking her watch. “Will wanted to be at Claudia’s an hour ago but we got caught up at Mike’s house, and, well, you know how it is,” she flutters her hands, approximating a shrug.

She hugs El goodbye, then pulls Max in for another one. “Call us if you need anything,” she says, pulling back and putting her hands on Max’s shoulders. That sad glint is in her eye again, and Max knows the offer extends beyond tonight.

“Thanks, Joyce, we will.”

By the time she’s taken the corner at the end of Cherry Lane Max’s watch is beeping again.

El glances down at it, a pinch between her eyebrows. “…Was that for me?”

“Uh.”

The confusion melts off her face, replaced by a cheeky grin. “It was!”

Max shuts the alarm off, cheeks burning. “Why were you guys at Mike’s for so long?” she asks. eager to change the subject. If the guys are meeting up at Dustin’s the delay wasn’t because Will and Mike were catching up, and, well, Mike and El’s relationship is…of interest to Max. For reasons.

El purses her lips. It’s a face that tells Max they’re gonna need to be sitting and cozy for this conversation because it’s gonna be a long one. So, she links their arms and pulls her inside.

An hour later they’re huddled under a throw blanket on the couch. El is giggling, face in her hands, and Max is wheezing around a mouthful of skittles.

“Oh, that’s so not funny,” she chokes out, trying not to spew candy everywhere, which brings about a fresh wave of laughter. El’s shoulders are shaking, brushing against Max’s and making her warm all over. God damn, she’s missed this.

“Then why are you laughing,” El replies, poking her side and smiling from ear-to-ear.

She’s beautiful, Max thinks. Her braid is half-undone, letting her hair curl around her face in gentle waves, and her eyes are bright. She looks happy, and Max holds on to that, keeps it all for herself because she did that, she made that happen. She might not have everything she wants from El, but she’ll take whatever she can get. Whatever El wants to give. And sometimes just her smiles are enough, enough to make Max’s chest constrict and her heart glow, because for now, she’s happy too.

She laughs again, in leu of a response. How can she not, when she feels so light she could float away, high on the soft strawberry scent of El’s shampoo and the way her cheek dimples when she grins. But she can’t say that, so she says, “Because it’s Mike,” and pokes El right back. “I’m legally obligated to laugh at his misfortune.”

They have a complicated friendship, which mostly boils down to her being willing to bail him out when he’s in shit, but only if she gets to make fun of him while she does it.

El wrinkles her nose a little, but her smile doesn’t dim, “You two are weird.”

She’s pretty sure it used to bother El, how much Mike and Max fought. Max can’t help but wonder if they’d have gotten along better if she wasn’t in love with his girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. Because she’d dumped him for good this time. Four months ago, apparently, though Mike was, until a few hours ago, under the impression it was temporary.

Max almost feels bad for him. Except she doesn’t. Apparently, he was a dick about the whole thing, so at least she has a solid reason not to.

“You love us,” Max scoffs. El may have broken up with Mike, but she’ll always love him in some way or another.

El’s expression softens, turns fond and sweet. She’s thinking about Mike, Max is sure, but the smile is still directed as her. Small victories. “I do,” she says quietly.

They order a pizza after that, and watch movies into the wee hours of the morning. By 3am Max’s throat is raw, and her stomach hurts from laughing (and too much pizza). It’s the most fun she’s had in a while. The Byers’ don’t visit as often as any of them would like.

Max isn’t even tired, but El’s head has been dropping onto her shoulder on and off for the past hour so she suggests they call it a night.

She knows that when the boys sleep over at each other’s houses they’ll take the floor, or the couch in the basement, anything but actually sharing a bed. As El wraps an arm around her waist and snuggles up with her under the blankets, Max takes a moment to wonder if that would be better or worse than this.

It always seemed so miserable to Max, how much boys have to limit themselves.  

But also…well, it might be easier sometimes. She wouldn’t have to deal with wanting things she shouldn’t want because El would be over there, and not right up in her space, hands warm and breath tickling Max’s ear. This is different than sitting thigh-to-thigh on the couch, it blurs the line more, and it’s the ambiguity that’s driving Max crazy.

She wasn’t tired before, but she’s wide-awake now.

Time creeps by strangely this late at night. Max isn’t sure how long she lays there, staring at the ceiling, trying to calm her pounding heart. El’s breath is steady, quiet, and her eyes are closed. Max is sure she’s asleep, she was so tired before.

Before she can stop herself her hand creeps up, brushes a strand of hair from El’s face.

Moonlit, she’s ethereal. There’s always been something otherworldly about El, with her big, dark eyes, always watching, boring holes into you with their intensity. Shadows play across her cheek, and Max tracks them for a while, absurdly jealous of moonlight.

She traces patterns on El’s forearm, the one resting on Max’s stomach, keeping her touch light so as not to wake her.

More time passes, and Max’s head feels heavy with sleep that won’t come. She’s groggy, leaning back but unable to keep her eyes closed.

She starts talking. Whispering. Remembering the times she read Wonder Woman comics to El until she fell asleep, and hoping, somewhere in her foggy brain, that it might work on herself too.

“You know… I always knew we’d be good friends. The second I heard your name I wanted to know you,” she murmurs, and draws a star on El’s wrist. “Didn’t know how badly I wanted until I saw you though. You were terrifying, and I loved it. And now…” Her eyes slide closed as she thinks. “You’re the best person I’ve ever met. You’re beautiful. Everything about you. And I love you…more than I should.” She sighs, sits in silence and cards her fingers through El’s hair. It’s getting so long.  

El’s hand closes around her wrist.

Max’s eyes fly open, and she stills, heart pounding. “Uh.” El’s eyes are open, looking up at her, she’s awake, she’s awake, oh fuck– “Um. Did—did I wake you up, I’m—sorry if I woke you—”

“It’s okay.” The corners of her mouth turn up, slow and careful, “I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“Oh.” Is all Max can manage, staring down at El with wide eyes, waiting for her to…do something. Max’s palms are sweating. She doesn’t know what to expect.

El moves her hand, puts Max’s palm against her cheek and shuffles forward until they’re nose to nose.

“Oh.”

She tastes like toothpaste and kiwi lip balm, and kisses as sweetly as she smiles. Her hands end up in Max’s hair, fingers gentle but demanding, guiding her forward. If Max wasn’t already laying down, she’d need to be because her knees are jelly.

“Oh,” El echoes when she pulls back, laughter in her voice. She presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Max’s mouth, careful and deliberate. Then her expression softens, sobers. “I was jealous of you. At first. Didn’t…know what it was. Know why. So, I ignored you. And… I’m sorry.”

Max shakes her head, “Ancient history. It’s okay.”

“No, I,” El stops, furrows her brow, “You were so happy. Free. I wanted that. And then, then you helped me have that. So. Thank you.” She cups Max’s face, fingertips tracing along her cheekbone, and Max’s heart sings. “And I love you too.”

They kiss again, and Max decides that El sleeping on the floor would’ve been a terrible idea.

[ksj-com]

Request #1

One Night, Two Parties

- Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

- Genre: Highschool!AU, Enemy2Lover!AU, smut

- Warnings/Tags: (kinda) slow burn, alcohol mention, drug mention, party competition, flashing, partying, arguing, rough kissing, hickies, neck kissing, wall sex, rough sex, protected sex, fingering, slightly drunk sex, shirtless Jungkook

- Word Count: 6,015 words

- Summary: You and Jungkook have been popularity rivals for two years, and you don’t want to admit it’s just because you’re jealous of how easy he can make friends. You’ve been planning a party for the past week now only to find out that Jungkook has a party happening today as well. This is your time to show him who’s boss at this school by having a competition on who has the most people at their party.

|| To read Jasmin’s story with Namjoon, click here ||

     The sound of chalk on the board made the palm you were leaning on more and more comfortable by the minute. Equations with unknown meanings sprawled across the green slate in front of the classroom. The teacher has his glasses drooping to the brim of his nose; he was so in-the-zone that he wouldn’t even glance back to the class to explain what he was writing. 

     On the other end of the room, your eyes were beginning to become out of focus as you daydreamed about tonight. Maybe you’ll get plastered enough to bring someone in your room tonight and get freaky. The imagination of your mystery man slowly pulling your sticky clothes off and kissing all over your bare skin made you purse your lips together to keep yourself contained. Sex wasn’t a huge part of your life like some of the girls that you went to school with, but you couldn’t help the occasional daydream. Especially under the circumstances, it being the last and most boring class of the day.

     A piece of paper bounces off your head from behind and snaps you out of the fantasy you built inside your head. Knowing exactly who it was, you roll your eyes and ignore it. You close your eyes to hopefully catch a few zzz’s before class ends. Another paper bullet hits your head, making you annoyed enough to turn around. The boy sitting behind you, Yoongi, passes you a note. His face was clearly just as annoyed as yours from his note-taking being disrupted. You grasp the paper and open it up to see what’s inside.

     ‘You ready for the banger tonight? My house.’ You read the words written in terrible boy handwriting. You look around behind you to meet eyes with Jungkook. He smiled deviously at you in return to the scowl on your face. He really thought he was going to take tonight from you and be smug enough to invite you to his own party? Not happening.

     You flip the paper over to write your own note for him to see. The anger pushing through the pencil a little too hard seeing how it broke under your fingers when you were done writing. ‘Too late. People have been knowing about my party since the beginning of this week. Parents are out of town and everyone’s getting fucked up. Best party of the year for sure.’ Being satisfied with what you wrote, you turn back around and hand it to Yoongi to pass to Jungkook. Yoongi makes sure to show you how you’re being annoying by rolling his eyes before passing the note back to Jungkook.

     You turn back around to be slapped in the face with the gibberish written all over the board. Calculus was a bitch and you’ll regret not copying down the notes later, but you didn’t have the energy to care about it right now. Surely someone else will send you pictures of the notes over the weekend for you to copy down anyways.

     Jungkook didn’t hand you back a note until after the bell rang. You were placing your notebooks back in your backpack while Jungkook slid the note on top of your desk. You immediately unfold the paper to read ‘We’ll see about that then.’ You look up to see him by the door looking back at you, him making a throat cutting motion and a wink before walking out the door. You roll your eyes and sling your backpack over your shoulder. Yeah I guess we will.

     There was always a tension between you and Jungkook ever since he was new sophomore year. He instantly made friends from doing absolutely nothing other than being slightly attractive, at least that’s what every girl here thought. On the other hand, you were popular from actually being involved in extracurriculars, still having a social life, and not being a bitch. You couldn’t help but feel a bit envious at how he showed up out of no where and took your spot in people’s lives. It’s now senior year and your feelings for him haven’t changed. You both hated each other.

     “I just can’t believe he thinks he can ruin my party by throwing his own, like, I swear he goes out of his way just to ruin my life!” you rant as you looked at yourself in the mirror. A light green, skinny strapped, cropped tank top with a high waisted black skirt that ended at the middle of your thighs. You looked at yourself proudly. Playing sports and being active kept you in shape and you had a pretty set self esteem, so wearing tight clothing didn’t bother you. You had already freshened up your makeup, applying some dark nude lipstick as well. To complete the look, you let your straight hair fall around your shoulders.

     “Listen, I think you’re a tad over dramatic. Yes, it was a dick move to plan a party when he probably already knew you were going to throw one, but who cares? We’re gonna be loaded with shit that I doubt he will be, so who’s house is everyone gonna choose? Yours,” your best friend, Jasmin, crosses her arms while meeting your eyes in the mirror. She always knew how to cheer you up and make you confident in anything you weren’t. She was your ride or die to say the least. You’ve known her throughout your highschool years, and unlike most of your close friends, she’s always been by your side. “Now move bitch, so I can see how I look,” she laughs and pushes you aside.

     She fluffed up her blonde curly hair, inspecting her blue eyes and freckled face. You watched her; she was absolutely gorgeous. “Plus, I doubt he knows anyone over 21 around here to get him anything he wants like we do. Hobi should be coming any minute now to give us our deliveries,” she shrugged, her step brother was always willing to plug anything you guys wanted for your parties. Although she was right and comforting you, the thoughts in the back of your mind couldn’t help but resurface.

     “You’re right. I guess I’m just over thinking it,” you watch her. The roles now switched as she looks at her outfit now. She turns around with a smile planted across her face as she approaches you.

     “So...your eyes set on anyone for tonight?” she wiggles her eyebrow. You can feel a laugh rise in your throat as your unrealistic daydream replays in your mind. She must have noticed your cheeks flush when you told her no one because she didn’t believe a word you told her. “You’ll get a little frisky when you start drinking anyways, so I guess I’ll find out what you’re getting all red about later,” she jabs your side.

     ���You’ll see that I’m only looking to have a good time with myself and my best friend, AKA you,” you lie to her and yourself. You didn’t want to admit that you wanted to catch someone’s attention tonight— not anyone in particular, but having people scan your body up and down gave you a thrill. Even if you wanted what you said to be true— it wasn’t. Since Jasmin could read you like a book, she could tell it wasn’t true either.

     “Mmhmm... okay (Y/N). Should I bring up the last time we had a party? After that drinking contest, you had no problem basically fucking that guy Jin in the middle of everyone dancing,” You pushed your fingers in your ears to make the story stop. God, you were such an embarrassing drunk sometimes.

     “Okay, fine. What about you? Who are you going for tonight?” You ask, watching her jokingly lick her lips.

     “Namjoon,” her voice straining while saying his name in a low tone. You couldn’t help but laugh at her poor imitation of him. But after your laughing fit, her answer finally set in making you scrunch your nose.

     “Going for a straight edge tonight? Changing it up I see,” She hits you lightly and just as she was about to reply, the doorbell buzzed throughout the house. You both exchange looks before heading towards the front door. 

     Hobi stands at the front door with booze hugged to his chest. You always had the hots for him while being friends with Jasmin, but you both decided he was off limits for you. You didn’t want to put Jasmin in an uncomfortable situation if something was to ever happen, even though you doubt it would ever anyways. “Well are you just gonna stare, or are you gonna help me carry these all in? There’s more in the trunk,” he scoffs and steps inside.

     You and Jasmin walk out to the open trunk. You both see the heaping amount of boozes from different assortments of Svedka, Bicardi, Vodka, Fireball, Smirnoff, Mike’s Hard Lemonade, Jack Daniels, etc. Not only were there bottles of liquor, but there were bags of joints and blunts. Thankfully, that was all there was since you didn’t feel like being the reason someone became addicted to coke tonight. 

     “Hell yeah,” you and Jasmin both say in unison before everyone empties everything out of the trunk and aligning it on your kitchen counters. Red cups were in stacks next to the liquor and the weed was spread across the table.

     The party started at nine and the clock was just passing eight. You both thanked Hoseok by paying him back and started pregaming when he left. You guys didn’t want to get too fucked up before the party actually started, so you both made sure to snack while drinking a little bit. It was safe to say that you felt a little tipsy, heat resting on your cheeks constantly and you feeling a bit more giggly than normal. You greeted the people that walked through your doors, slightly shouting over the music playing. It was already 9:30 when you realized how little of people showed up. You kept telling yourself that more people will show up later, but it really started to bother you when people began to complain about it.

     You agree that something is off and look out your window to see Jungkook’s house filled with people inside and outside. Him living across the street from you made it even more of a smack in the face at what was happening and you weren’t just going to sit and let it happen. You drag Jasmin out to your front porch, visible to everyone flooded on Jungkook’s front yard. You, having had a few drinks already, came up with an idea that your sober self would probably look in disgust at. You whisper your thoughts to Jasmin and she agreed with no hesitation.

     You both shout and wave your arms to get people’s attention. Once everyone’s eyes were on you two, you followed through with the plan. “Before you spend the rest of the night at Jungkook’s, make sure you know there’s a better party across the street,” you both shout and raise up your shirts. With no bra on for the both of you, your breasts flash everyone outside. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, nervous from the reaction you would receive. Luck was on your side tonight as everyone cheered and began flooding towards your house. People inside noticed the movement from everyone outdoors and followed, figuring there must be a reason a big crowd was leaving. Thank god.

     You were sure to greet everyone and tell them where everything was while they all walked in. Casually glancing over to Jungkook’s house to see if he was going to walk out as well. Sure enough, a couple minutes later Jungkook walks out bare chested and confused. What a meathead. He locks eyes with you and you take the perfect moment to mimic the same throat cutting motion he gave you earlier today. Clearly annoyed, he shakes his head and heads back inside his house.

     You eventually slide yourself with the crowd of people coming inside. The smell of marijuana faintly covering the room. Not a lot of people gravitated towards it to your surprise, most people already having a vape in hand. Either way, the room had a slight fog in the air. You planted yourself in the kitchen with the drinkers having shots. You join them only having a few for yourself since you were already tipsy. You were smart this time and there was no way you were going to let yourself get black out drunk. Jasmin was the polar opposite as you, she didn’t care and you were more of the ‘mom friend’ to her.

     She was out dancing like an idiot to Kodak Black, she was clearly already drunk. She jumped around aimlessly, people around her looking equally gone. You laughed as you jumped in next to her to the music. Smiles were on both of your faces and you were having a blast. On the corner of your eye, you saw Namjoon join Jasmin from behind. She grinds into him when she realized who it was after you gave her a wide eyed look. She looks at you with a giant grin on her face as you watch Namjoon’s hands grip at her waist. You gave her a secret thumbs up and scan the room to try to find a guy to do the same with. Your eyes stop on Jungkook.

     You approach him and stand in front of him while he dances. “Your party so boring that you had to join mine? Last time I checked you weren’t invited,” Your face twists as you watch him having a good time in your house.

     He scoffs, “Last time I checked most of these people weren’t invited to your house either, but here they are.”

     “Well they aren’t assholes like you are!” you shout, the alcohol coursing through your veins making it difficult to hold back what’s really on your mind.

     “Isn’t the alcohol supposed to make you a less uptight bitch?” He shoots back with disgust on his face.

      “How about you just get out of my house? My party, my rules,” you cross your arms with a look that could kill someone.

     “Gladly,” he taunts. He stops dancing and looks at you. The music abruptly stops causing everyone to start complaining. You whip around to see Taehyung, one of Jungkook’s minions, have his hands around the cut cords of your stereo. “Party back over at Jungkook’s! There’s actually music playing over there!” Jungkook cups his hands around his mouth to project his announcement. You bite your cheeks to hold in the tears while you watch everyone follow Jungkook back over to his house. 

     Once the house was basically empty, you rushed over to the cut up cords. You felt your stomach drop at the sight of the damaged equipment that wasn’t even yours. You look around for Jasmin to help think of what the hell to do in a situation like this, but she wasn’t in the room. Now that the house was silent from no people and no music, the sounds of moaning were muffled from the walls separating you both.

     “Gross,” you mutter to yourself as your focus turns back to the cords. You were so screwed. This was your dad’s stereo and you had no idea how to replace it by the time they came back home. You didn’t have the money nor do you know where it’s even from. Your body started to boil, you frustrated at the fact you couldn’t even look at the cords without three other versions of it twirling around your vision. How could Jungkook go that far just to take all those people back?

     Before you could process what you were doing, your feet were stomping over to Jungkook’s house. The music blaring outside of his house. You could call the cops on him to throw back a little bit of the ‘going too far’ medicine, but you threw a party too and didn’t want to risk it. Hot humidity hit you when you stepped into his house full of people. Pushing threw the sticky dancing bodies, you finally make it to Jungkook. He stood behind a bar handing drinks out to people. You yank him aside to a room away from music so you could both actually hear each other.

     “What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t you think cutting cords from an expensive ass stereo is a little too far for a fucking party? My parents are gonna kill me and here you are having a good time not giving a damn about what damage you just did to my house! Such an inconsiderate asshole!” You push him roughly while screaming into his face.

     He doesn’t hold back when he pushes you back with the same force, making you stumble on your feet a bit. Now it was his turn. “Do you really think I give a shit about what your parents are gonna think? Hell, I would actually love to see their reaction, see you get grounded and cry about it like the baby you are. You have despised me ever since I moved here, even though I haven’t done shit to you. You make everything a rivalry when I’m just trying to have a good time. You have to ruin everything by needing constant validation that you are the most important one in this school when, in the end, no one gives a shit,” his words burn into your body. “And the worst part of it all is no matter how much I want to hate you, I can’t. You never leave my mind,” his voice drops as he tries to raise his hand to your face.

     You scoff and smack his hand down. “How drunk are you to try that cheap shit on me? I’m not going to run into your arms like every girl here. Just because you can smooth talk your way into every girls panties doesn’t mean I apply.” you watch his face twist with rage and embarrassment.

     “Who the hell do you think I am? I don’t manipulate anyone for sex and I wouldn’t do that to you. Why do you hate me so goddamn much, (Y/N)?” His voice is so loud that you wouldn’t be surprised if everyone would be looking when you both walked out.

     “I don’t hate you, I just- I-“ your mind was spinning. Why couldn’t you be sober right now to put together a proper sentence? He slowly walked towards you, your eyes drifting down his bare chest. Toned and shiny from the perfect amount of sweat. Snap out of it. You’re drunk. “Just pay me back for the stereo,” you push past him, knocking his shoulder aside.

     After pushing your way through the party once again, the air was a nice relief. You took a deep breath of the crisp cool air to try to cool your adrenaline from the argument and confusing words Jungkook just told you. You figured that he hated you just as much as you hate him, but now that you think about it, how could you say that when you don’t really have that strong of a dislike for him? Yes, he was annoying in every way possible, but it’s not really his fault that your friends started to gravitate more to him than you. At the end of the day, those friends weren’t really your friends if they left you.

     Your thoughts stop when you reopen your front door to reveal how big of a mess the short lived party created. You groan into your hands, but suck it up to grab a garbage bag. Empty cups, crushed chips, spilled drinks, a puddle of unknown liquid scatter the floor. You inspect the thick cream color liquid with disgust. Puke, maybe?

     You started at one end of the room picking up and cleaning your place. Your mind went back to how undeniably good Jungkook looked as he was approaching you. The dimness of the room carved out the ridges of his abs and glistened on his sweaty high points. You kept telling yourself that he was only average for the past couple years, but you couldn’t deny that the thought of his looks now made your body tingle. You couldn’t understand if that was Jack Daniel’s making you soft for him or if you’ve finally have come to realize he’s really not the villain you have made him out to be.

     You never leave my mind. But, did he mean that in a good way or a bad way? He didn’t leave your mind either, but that’s because you always complained about something he said or did. So was that the same for him, or did he mean something else?

     You snap up when you hear someone’s feet slap the hard floor. Jasmin waddles her way over to the fridge for some water. Her hair tangled and frizzy while one of her shirt straps draped past her shoulder. “Where did the party go, hm?” Her words strung together, making her voice barely comprehendible. Her eyes watch you lazily as she filled up her cup. The mascara crumbling off of her lashes.

     “Jesus, look at you. I’ll tell you all about it when you’re able to understand what I’m saying,” you watch her roll her eyes at your comment.

     She slams the water in her cup, not hesitating to refill it up. She licks her lips, “so what were you and Jungkook talking about? Saw him giving you those ‘fuck me’ eyes before you walked over there.”

     You snort a laugh. “Excuse me?” You face was sour, yet your cheeks speckle with heat.

     “God, you’re so boy-stupid (Y/N),” she shakes her head and disappears with her second glass of water.

     “Says the one who only makes a move when she’s plastered!” You yell for her to hear with a joking smile on your face.

     “Hey! Rude!” She replies, fumbling up the stairs as she tries not to spill.

     You shake your head and laugh, resorting back to picking up your mess of a house. You notice a broken bottle on the floor, glass pieces pointing dangerously upward. Wiping the sweat off your forehead, you grab a broom to sweep up the pile. But, the sound of a door bell stops you in your tracks.

     Jungkook stands at the door looking down at you while you stare at him with furrowed brows. “Yes?”

     “Need some help? Kind of partied out,” he leans his arm on the door frame. “Here, by the way,” he digs in his pocket and gives you a roll of money.

     “Where did you even-“

     He interrupts you by saying, “Listen, I’m sorry about the stereo. You’re right. It was too far.”

     You look up at him to see if he was joking with you or not. You never thought you would hear the words ‘you’re right’ come from his mouth, but he was serious. You stuffed the money in your pocket because, hell, you needed it. Although he was being weirdly nice right now, you didn’t want it to be ruined by inviting him in. Who knows if another argument would fire up? “Well, thank you. I don’t need any help though,” you blow a strand of hair out of your face.

     “Suit yourself,” he turns around and begins walking back. Head down and hands in pockets as he steps down your front porch steps. 

     You chew at your lip while watching him. Maybe you should let him in to see what has been going on with him tonight. What’s the worst that could happen? You guys have already been ‘worst enemies’ so it wouldn’t be anything new if it was back to that after tonight. “Wait!”

     He turns around, only being at the bottom on your steps he looks up at you. His eyes scan down your body as you stand there in silence. Fuck, what do I say now?

     He spins on his heels and walks back up the steps. You gulp as his figure approaches you. He looks at you with the same look in his eyes as earlier, yet this time he crashes his lips on yours. The force makes you stumble back, so you both are inside the house now. He kicks the door closed behind him and pushes you against the wall next to it. Your mind is spinning at the turn of events, yet you really didn’t want to stop it.

     He pushes his lips against you roughly as his hands rest at your waist. You would have never thought the fantasy you daydreamed about earlier would end up being Jungkook, but here you were, not having a single problem with it. Your lips matched his when you both found the right rhythm. Your hands travel from his chest to being wrapped around his neck giving him the opening to feel you up. His hands stop at your breasts over your shirt giving them a squeeze.

     “I guess this answers my question about if you thinking about me all the time was a good or bad thing” you disconnect your lips with a smirk.

     He looked down at your lips while you spoke, both of you out of breath from the adrenaline pumping throughout both of your bodies. “Shut up,” he laughs breathily. Your mouths meet again, passion filled with each touch. His tongue licks around your mouth causing the kisses to become a bit messier and impatient. You tug at his bottom lip, releasing a quiet growl when it snaps back.

     You could taste the liquor on both of your mouths while you kiss. The sweet and bitter linger that each kiss provided made you never want to stop. Your hands claw through his dark brown hair, tangling each finger against his scalp. Every slight tug made a groan rise from his throat.

     Once he was done being teased, his hands gripped your ass. The yelp that came from your lips caused a smirk to spread across his face. He watches you squeeze your eyes shut from the pleasure. Lust filling his hooded eyes. He licks your lips before dipping to attach himself to your neck. Your eyes flutter while your neck cranes back, begging to be touched. A moan escapes your lips from him sucking the tender skin. The care of hiding hickies from your parents currently eliminated by his lips gently kissing the marks.

     You wrap your leg around his back side and pull him closer. His rock hard dick pushing against you cause your breath to hitch. He’s still focusing on your neck as his hands feel you up again, yet this time he’s under your shirt. His fingertips glide over your sensitive skin and stop under your bare breast. He draws back and bites his lip when he forgot that you weren’t wearing a bra. You whine for him to continue touching you by arching your chest towards him. He palms both of your breasts, squeezing them lightly dragging over your nipples. You whimper from the sudden and quick feeling of him touching your sensitive nipples. The feeling shooting throughout your body.

     One of his hands leaves your breast and travels up the inside of your bare thigh. Going up your skirt and stopping on the outside of your underwear. “Tell me you want it— that you want me,” he looks at you. 

     Talking during sex wasn’t really something you’ve done before. With that being said, you haven’t really been in a lot of sexual encounters to begin with. Your cheeks flush and you look at him shyly. “I want you,” your voice coming out softer than you would have liked.

     He tries to hide the smile that threatened to come across his face, so he brushes his nose over yours before connected your lips with him. This time the kiss was soft and sweet, almost innocent. The lust reappears when he makes you gasp by pulling your underwear aside to rub around your pussy. You gripped onto his hair as you moan uncontrollably in his mouth. You were already wet from before, but now you were drenched.

     “So wet for me? I thought I’d never see the day,” he whispers in your ear. All you could pull out of your mouth was another moan as his rubbing became rougher. Two of his fingers trail down your folds and wiggle into you inch by inch. Curling and pumping in and out of you at an unforgiving pace. You whine as you grind down into him and grip his shoulders. While he pumps fiercely into you, his other hand pinches and gropes your breasts. His breath is hot against your skin, watching you so vulnerable under his touch.

     “I want more,” you pull your lip in between your teeth. He pauses to meet eyes with you, batting your lashes playfully. He pulls your underwear past your hips and down to the floor. You step out of them and watch him unzip his jeans. He lets them fall to the ground around his feet after pulling a condom out of his pocket. His dick rises from the lack of restraint the jeans provided causing your legs to squeeze together from the excitement. You watch him pump his length a few more times before sliding the condom on.

     “I didn’t know that the famous Jungkook practiced safe sex,” you giggle. You honestly didn’t care since you were on birth control but it’s better to be safe then sorry.

     “I didn’t even know the famous (Y/N) had sex to begin with,” he glances up at you with a smug smile.

     Barely, you thought to yourself. You stayed silent since he already started to cease the space between your two bodies. You pull your shirt over your body, leaving you with just your skirt on. You begin to tug it down, but his hands stop you. 

     “Keep the skirt on,” his voice raspy. You could feel his dick resting between your legs. You couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. You weren’t usually the one for casual sex; you figure that’s all this really was. In all honesty, you hope it isn’t. He could tell the uneasiness on your face when he asked,” Are you sure you want to?”

     You nod eagerly. Fuck it, even if it was casual his dick will probably be bomb given the massive size of the thing.

     “Just tell me if it ever hurts or anything,” he kisses your forehead and trails his lips to your lips once again. One of his arms wraps around the back of your thigh to lift, completely exposing yourself under the skirt. He keeps your leg lifted as he slowly slides in your impatiently dripping pussy. Your eyes screw shut, the delicious stretch has your hands latching back on his hair. “Fuck...you’re so tight baby,” his breath stutters. Despite the dirty actions, you feel your heart skip a beat at him call you baby like this. Your feelings for him have completely changed since the beginning of the night, and you hope he won’t crush you when you finally begin to grow feelings for him.

     He pushes and pulls at a constant pace, enjoying every bit of you while doing so. The heavenly tug your fingers give his hair while the suction of your pussy, wanting to keep him in while he pulls out, almost makes him want to let go right now, but he doesn’t want to blow this opportunity. The opportunity to show that he can make you feel something other than anger. He wanted to show you that you guys could function together without wanting to shoot each other’s heads off. Of course, sex wasn’t going to make you realize everything he wanted you to about him, but it was a start given the circumstances of tonight.

     His kisses are the only thing holding you both from screaming each other’s names. Wet sounds and slapping skin hid the sounds of the moans you both made in each other’s mouths. His free hand snakes around your waist to hug you against him creating a friction every time he pounded inside of you. The friction against your clit made your eyes roll back while your walls clench around him. You could feel your core ignite as each stroke hit blissfully against your spot. As you felt yourself grow closer, your arms pressed up against the wall trying to hold something that wasn’t there. Your moans became higher in pitch, almost as squeaks. His fingers dig into your skin from him trying not to release his load. As if you thought he couldn’t get any deeper, the hand on your back drops down to your ass to pull the cheek. His strokes rise into you, causing your body to jump up every time.

     He growls before lifting your other leg under his other arm, guiding you to now wrap both of your legs around his waist. His hands hold you up below your ass along with the force of being pushed against the wall. He slams into you as he holds you in place. It was obvious that you both were going to reach your high any second now. Your moans barely even making it out of your throat as you watch him. The sweat on his forehead making his messy hair stick to it and his adam’s apple bob as he groans over and over again— music to your ears. You felt yourself explode from pleasure as water floods on the floor below you two. Your tight clenching pussy drives him over the edge as he fills the barrier between both of you. You hug him close as you bounce on his dick to ride out both of your highs.

     Your legs reached the ground again, immediately shaking from how weak they feel. You both look at each other panting with wide eyes. You both can’t believe that just happened. He’s still inches from your face and his hands glide up and down the curve of your hips.

     “I guess this means we don’t hate each other anymore right?” he chuckles, but the look he gives you when he meets your eyes is telling you that he’s hoping he’s right. 

     You pull away from his stare to pull your shirt back on, so he takes the moment to pull his pants over himself as well. “That might be something I have to think about,” you wink at him to be a tease.

     “Do you have to think about us going on a date sometime?” He loops his belt around his waist, acting casual about what he just said.

     “What?” you freeze in disbelief.

     “You. Me. Dating. Squashing this beef we’ve had for, I don’t know how long. I’m over it. You’re a great person minus the ‘hating me’ part and you’re beautiful...like seriously,” his hand combs through his tangled mess. 

     You laugh from being shy from compliments. “I would love to go on a date with you,” you look down at your feet. His smile grows. “On one condition, we don’t throw parties on the same night anymore.”

     “Silly girl, we’ll be throwing one party together from now on, duh.” he boops your nose. You both spend the rest of the night side by side at the party. Brushing off everyone’s shocked faces whenever he pulled you into a kiss.

     Who would’ve known you’d end up being head over heels over the one you once thought ruined your life?

Requested by: @penguinkyung

[drwnng-ophelia]

Caught Between the Two of You | Richie Tozier x Female Reader

A/N: I can only apologize again for not finishing this earlier. Nevertheless, I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter and where this story is going. I haven’t planned it out completely, but I think this miniseries is coming to an end soon-ish (maybe two more chapters, give or take).

After that, I’d be more than willing to get into some Richie Tozier (or even Bill Hader) oneshots if anyone’s up for that? Drop me a request if you’d like!

(Btw, dumblr didn’t really let me edit this baby, I hope it shows up the way it’s supposed to?? Please, let me know if the paragraphs are off)

Pairing: Richie Tozier/Female Reader (Pennywise/Female Reader)

Summary: You own the Derry Town House and are caught off guard by a group of friends who check-in. You get closer than anticipated with one of them.

Warnings: explicit language, smut, oral sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: 4,322 (sorry, guys)

For your convenience, here’s Chapter One, Chapter Two, and Chapter Three. If you’d rather read it on AO3, go here.

   Chapter Four

It felt like your entire body had gone taut. How was this possible? Maybe Pennywise had found a way to fully conceal himself from you? And now he was playing with you again. Playing an evil, irreverent game that you would think beneath him.

“Don’t question this. I’m not one of his apparitions and we don’t have a lot of time so you need to concentrate,” your mother said, urgency in her soft voice. She looked just as beautiful as you remembered her to be. The pain of missing her struck you fiercely, ripping open wounds that had healed a long, long time ago.

“He will be here any minute. You must listen closely to what I have to say.” You didn’t think that Richie would believe his eyes or ears if he would see this. “I’m not talking about him,” she clarified, “But I’m glad your heart has found its way to someone else. Away from danger.”

“You know about Pennywise?” you asked, ignoring the fact that she could read your mind. She nodded curtly. “It’s my fault the group of friends, your friends, have fought him when they were children.” A chill danced down your spine and you blinked. “How so?” 

“It was my task to maintain the balance. It was me who should have kept the Eater of Worlds in check,” she explained, silver lining her eyes, “But I was too busy cherishing my life. That wonderful, mundane life. You will not make the same mistake. You will restore pride to our lineage.”

The power that had awoken within you at such a young age…it had come from her. “What lineage?” You couldn’t stop your voice from trembling. Back then, your ascent had meant her downfall. Balance, such fragile balance.

“Salem witches. The women of our family were the most powerful amongst them. We’ve kept the line strong over the centuries. While our magic flourished, other witches perished, their magic running out. It’s nature’s way of telling us that we are only here to play one vital part, and I ignored mine. We’re here to make sure that the Eater of Worlds will take his rest. We’re here to make sure that he will not satiate his hunger until there is nothing left.”

Until Pennywise had devoured everything and annihilated existence as you knew it. She didn’t have to spell it out for you. You swallowed hard, an impossible weight suddenly resting on your shoulders.

“Your power awoke that day because you needed it more than me, because you know how to wield it, instinctively. Look at you, even as a child you were capable of containing this creature. And you didn’t even need your magic for it.” A proud smile spread on her face.

Whatever this was, wherever she came from, she truly was not part of the game.

Your chest tightened at her words, at her need to appear to you, and for the first time, you were truly afraid of Pennywise. “Mom, I…I don’t know what to do.”

“Of course you do. Use his love for you to your advantage. But always remember, no matter how tempting it might seem, you cannot end his existence. It’s tied to your own. He has been here before us, and he will endure.”

A thousand questions burned on your tongue, but you could see her image slowly morphing into your own features as if she was melting away. “Don’t leave me yet,” you begged and tried to swallow the lump in your throat.

“I must. He’s too close. Remember that I love you, remember that you’re stronger than I ever was. And remember to guard what you carry. Always guard what you carry.”

“I can’t carry this by myself,” you sobbed. But she was gone before she could utter another word. You pulled in a sharp breath, hugging yourself tightly as you sunk down on the bed.

If Pennywise was tied to your own life, then you couldn’t let the others kill him—or you would die with him.

You thought of the Losers who had paid so dearly for doing what your mother couldn’t. So many had died. Countless people had suffered. And this morning you had been willing to pay any price for restoring the equilibrium. If it was your own life…then so be it.

There was dark, destructive power within you. You had felt it, the first day it had awoken. This, all of this, led to you accessing that place again. Just one last time.

A soft knock on your bedroom door made your head snap up. Quickly, you wiped the tears away, forcing your face into neutrality.

“There’s someone here for you,” Richie said as he cracked the door open, attentive eyes scanning you. Your brows nudged together in confusion at his tone. Stern and sober.

“Who is it?” you demanded, ignoring the voice at the back of your head that reminded you that you would die soon, that your time with this man was limited. So terribly limited.

Richie met your gaze, a muscle feathering in his jaw. He was angry—and disappointed. “Someone who introduced himself as your boyfriend.” You closed your eyes and massaged your temples. “He’s not my boyfriend, I promise you,” you hissed, “No need to get jealous. I’ll throw him out on his ass immediately.” Pennywise would not come between Richie and you. Not now.

With determination, you strode into the living room, finding Pennywise with a bored look on his face. He was in his human form, not a hair out of place or a crease in his black three piece suit. Perfection. Walking, breathing, utterly dangerous perfection.

Instinctively, you checked your mental guards. He had probably always known that you were a Salem witch, had known about your strength. What he didn’t know, what he shouldn’t know, was that you had released that strength. That you were preparing yourself for using it.

Mike and the others wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, but Pennywise wanted to play. As long as he didn’t play dirty you would try to keep the others from attacking him. From attacking you. You would try to buy yourself time. Time to prepare. Time to spend with Richie.

“You need to leave,” you said through gritted teeth, folding your arms in front of your body protectively. A serpentine grin spread on his full lips. “Such harsh words for a man you love so dearly?” His smooth voice seemed to slither around you like a snake. “You wouldn’t know love if it spat you in the face,” you snarled.

Pennywise’s smile faltered ever so slightly. He had expected you to crumble, to give into him in front of Richie’s eyes. But you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction, you would stand your ground. “Please,” you started, “Please just leave. I can’t do this right now.” Tears burned behind your eyes again and you failed to stop them from pooling over.

His handsome face softened when he saw you crying. Pennywise hadn’t seen you cry for a long time. After all, he had always ensured that there was nothing to scare or harm you, nothing that could give you any pain. He lifted a hand as if he wanted to reach out to you, but when you immediately took a step back, he lowered it.

“I’ll see myself out,” he said flatly, sapphire blue eyes finding yours. I’ll be there when you need me. I’ll give you today. A temporary truce. His voice was nothing more but a whisper in your head, a soft caress that brought the tears to a stop.

Terribly aware of Richie lingering somewhere behind you, undoubtedly a scowl on his face, you mouthed a thank you. Pennywise inclined his head ever so slightly and then sauntered towards the door. “I lied,” he said to Richie before stepping over the threshold, “I’m not her boyfriend. Although sometimes…I wish I was.”

Your heart stopped in your chest as your mother’s words echoed in your head. Love. His love for you. All this time, you had waited for Pennywise to admit that he loved you. And this, this was probably as close as you would get to hear him say it. You sucked in a breath, unsure of what words might tumble out your mouth. But before you had the chance to speak, he walked out, the door falling shut behind him.

“Sorry for the drama,” was all you managed to say instead, rubbing your face. Strong arms embraced you from behind, pressing you against Richie’s chest tightly. “I can tell that you’re upset.” His voice was gentle, an unspoken invitation for you to speak about what was troubling you. Richie placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“This might be over before we know it,” you muttered. “You could leave Derry. You could come home with me,” Richie offered quietly, “Let me take you away from here. Let me take care of you.” It sounded tempting, and you wanted to believe that you could get out of this alive. With him.

“I want to say yes.” You paused, afraid of making promises you couldn’t keep—promises that would break his heart. “What’s keeping you?” He whispered his question into your ear, his breath tickling you, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Instinctively, you tipped your head to the side, letting go of a shuddering breath as his lips brushed against your neck.

Richie’s hand wandered up and cupped your breast through your top. “You could start by saying yes to this and then we’ll take it from there,” he suggested, “We could take it slow this time. Would you like that?” He kissed your neck again, teeth grazing over your skin tenderly. “Yes,” you got out and wound yourself out of his hold so you could face him.

Losing yourself in him, even if it was just for a little while, was exactly what you wanted. “Whatever you need. I’m here for you,” Richie said as if he had read your thoughts.

“I think you know what I need already.” You bit your lip and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Before long, a trail of clothes led to your bedroom.

Hands were busy roaming naked skin when Richie broke away from you just to say, “Lie down. I still owe you.”

More than willingly, you obliged and relaxed against the smooth sheets. Intuitively, you opened your legs, making room for him as his kisses slowly trailed down. Richie stopped at your collarbone for a moment, sucking hard enough to leave an intentional mark on your body.

“The bruises from last night aren’t enough, huh?” you checked and gasped as his mouth closed around your nipple, your comment resulting in him biting you playfully. “Last night you said you were mine. I’m just reminding you of that,” he answered and his territorial touch, this newfound tone, kindled the hunger for him like never before.

Slowly, fingers danced up your thigh as his mouth wandered down, past your abdomen. Lust threatened to consume you. “Please, Richie,” you urged, squirming under his touch. “Please, what?” He looked up at you, blue eyes alight with power—power over you. Now, you were at his mercy. And he was enjoying it immeasurably.

“Please, just get your head between my legs already,” you got out, fingers weaving into his silky curls. A wicked smile appeared on his face. “I’m in no rush.” Provocatively, he kissed the inside of your thigh, his stubble burning against your skin.

“I don’t remember treating you so viciously at the arcade,” you reminded him. “Such a greedy girl,” he chided. And yet, you felt his hand wandering up, up, up where you wanted it. A clever thumb started to massage your bundle of nerves. “Is this what you wanted?” he demanded.

In response, you pulled at his hair gently. “Ow, a simple ‘yes’ would have done it, [Y/N],” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Who said that little tug meant ‘yes’?” you teased, a surprised moan escaping you as he intensified the pressure at your sassy remark. “Use your clever tongue for something else,” you suggested.

This time, he finally did as you asked, his mouth moving to where his fingers had been only a moment before. You tipped your head back and gripped the sheets as he started to lick, his tongue stroking you expertly.        

Richie drew idle circles over your skin, slowly moving up to give your breasts some attention. Reacting to your body’s needs instinctively, he changed his pace, and you let out a little yelp when he pinched your nipple gingerly. His touch slowly moved down the slope of your breast again, moving south.

You bucked your hips slightly, wanting more of him, but a strong hand pinned you down decidedly. His tongue didn’t stop its perfectly choreographed dance when he finally slid a finger into you. He let go of a moan himself, content with how wet you were for him, wet enough for him to add another finger. Unhurried, he started to plunge in and out of you, driving you positively insane with his rhythm.

A well-known feeling started to build deep inside you and just before you went over the edge, Richie pulled away. It was like a bucket of cold water and you took a deep breath before propping yourself up on your elbows. “Seriously?” you panted, a pleading look on your face.

Richie chuckled and sat up. “I thought it was up to me whether or not you deserved to find release.” You slumped down on the mattress again, cursing under your breath. “I wouldn’t have said that if I knew this was coming.”

You rolled onto your side, the need for him still pounding relentlessly between your legs—and seeing just how excited he had become while pleasuring you only made you want him more.

“I also said that I would tie you up and straddle you.” You arched an eyebrow, a vicious smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “But I’ve reconsidered. Your hands are far too gifted to be—” Richie silenced you with a sensuous kiss and you could taste yourself on his tongue. “Then let’s skip the tying up,” he suggested.

Richie sat up against the headboard and helped you ease onto him. While you got used to the delicious fullness of him, he kissed you lovingly, strong arms cradling you.

Now that you were in control, you started to move up and down, savoring each inch of him. Your movements were slow at first, allowing him to kiss you, to fondle your breasts, to grasp your behind. But although you relished this intimacy, this loving touch, you were desperate for the release you hadn’t gotten earlier.

Richie met you with a thrust every time as you started to bounce up and down. The sound of skin meeting skin mixed with your noises of pleasure roused you to increase the pace until you felt your thighs burn.

More. You wanted more.

You moved your hips in circles until you indulged in grinding fully against him. The friction this gave you made you tip your head back, your body tensing as you felt yourself approaching the edge.

Stars danced before your eyes when your climax finally ripped through you. When Richie heard you call out his name, your walls contracting around him, he found his own release, emptying himself inside of you.

Catching your breath, you rested your forehead against his, your hands cupping his face as he held you close. “If we survive this,” he said quietly, caressing your back, “promise me that you’ll come with me.” His lips found yours and his words settled like dust after an explosion. This was a promise you could keep.

If we survive this.

“I promise I’ll come with you if we survive this,” you finally answered, brushing some hair away from his forehead that was beaded with sweat. “I don’t want to leave you.” It was the truth. You didn’t want to leave him. Because if you wouldn’t die, you knew you’d fall in love with him, deeply and unconditionally. It was only a matter of time.

This was a different love than what you felt for Pennywise. Unlike the ancient creature, Richie could give you a future—could truly answer your feelings.

Richie kissed you lovingly and said against your lips, “Then let’s kill this fucking clown.” 

The smile on your face didn’t reach your eyes so you just kissed him again.

   You had almost fallen into a light slumber, head resting on Richie’s broad chest, when something tugged inside you. A tingling sensation traveled from deep in your gut to your fingertips. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Richie opened his eyes reluctantly when you lifted your head, brows nudged together in a frown as you looked around the room with confusion. “What’s up?” he asked, sounding sleepy. “I’m not sure yet,” you answered, the tingling inside you not subsiding.

It was your power. Your power was stirring—but not at Pennywise. He hadn’t lied when he had called the temporary truce. It was something, someone, else.

“Are the others back?” you asked, climbing out of bed. A shiver danced down your spine as cold air kissed against your naked skin. “I’m not sure. Why?” Richie put on his glasses, curiously watching you as you started to get dressed. “Something is wrong next door,” you explained after pulling on a sweater.

“What—how do you know? Did you hear something?” He looked towards the closed window, not a sound traveling in from outside. “I just…know,” you shrugged, throwing his pants at him. “Come on, let’s go.”

Ben and Beverly were sitting on the stairs in the lobby when you pushed open the door of the Town House, Richie following close behind you. “Did you find your token, Richie?” Beverly asked conversationally, the small smile on her lips fading when she saw the concern on your face.

“Did the clown get you, too?” Ben asked, getting up as if he wanted to help. Richie shook his head, “No, he was nowhere to be seen. She…she dragged me here just now. We were, uh, next door.” Ben pulled up his eyebrows and rubbed his neck in embarrassment when he understood what his friend was insinuating.

“Beep, beep, Richie,” Beverly muttered and got up too, reaching out to touch your arm. “What’s wrong, [Y/N]?” Her voice was soft but urging. “Do you feel it, too?” you asked and looked up the stairs, up to where something tugged, tugged, tugged at you.

“Feel what, sweetie?” she asked. You felt Richie’s hand at the small of your back, but he didn’t say anything—as if Beverly’s words had silenced him.

“Did…someone come in here? Not Bill or Eddie, but someone else.” You looked towards the door that led to the office, although you knew that Olivia wasn’t here either. “Who should be here?” Ben asked, straightening as if he was getting ready for a fight.

Suddenly, someone barged in through the front door, almost stumbling over his own feet. “Eddie, you look like shit. What happened to you, man?” Richie commented and you dared to look over your shoulder, attention shifting from the second level.

Eddie was completely covered in dark grime, panic and disgust flashing in his eyes. He was shaking and tried to push his way past his friends and you. “I need a shower, let me through, assholes,” he said and swatted Richie’s hand away as he tried to hold him back.

“You can’t go up there,” you got out, crinkling your nose at the foul smell that came off him. Everyone turned to look to you. “Listen, I need to get this off of me right now or who knows what kind of shit I’ll catch,” Eddie pleaded, rubbing his face as if he could get himself clean with his bare hands.

“Let me go up first,” you suggested. “No way am I letting you go up first,” Richie interjected. “I don’t need your protection,” you claimed calmly, “I’ll go up there first. You can follow me if you want, but let me go first.” Your voice was strong, unwavering. The friends blinked at your sharp tone and Richie held up his palms in defeat, the look on his face telling you that he was anything but pleased with how you were acting. You decided to ignore him and started walking up the stairs, letting that tug lead you.

Eventually, you came to a stop, holding out your hand so Eddie would give you his room key. No one dared to say anything and you held your breath when you unlocked the door.

Nothing. The room was empty, the bed made and untouched. The window was half-open which seemed slightly odd, but nothing to be too worried about. Maybe you were getting paranoid?

But the tug was still there, tingling and ominous. You tiptoed to the bathroom, opening the door slowly and peeked inside.

The face of a maniac peered back at you, eyes wide with wonder at this unforeseen arrival. “He doesn’t want to hurt you, get away, little girl,” the delusional Henry Bowers purred at you, a silver knife gleaming in his hand.

Pennywise had put him up to this. So much for the truce.

You took a step back, knowing that you needed to stay between the friends and the lunatic. He would jump them immediately, but he knew he wasn’t allowed to hurt you. A human shield, that’s what you were.

Behind you, Beverly let out a small shriek when she saw Bowers following you into the bedroom. “Beverly, call the police,” Ben instructed and probably shoved her back into the hallway before trying to come to help you. Richie’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling at you, but you dug your heels into the floor. “Time to die, Trashmouth,” Bowers spat, lifting his knife and taking another step towards you. “You get out right now, you hear me,” Richie hissed into your ear, “He doesn’t want you.”

“Exactly, he doesn’t want me. So stay behind me,” you urged, trying to wind yourself out of Richie’s unforgiving hold. Ben snuck up beside you, hands lifted so he would appear as no threat. “The police are on their way, it’s over for you Bowers.” You could hear Beverly whimpering from the hallway as she called for help, Eddie swearing colorfully.

“I’ll kill you before they get here,” the madman said, grinning from ear to ear, “Now get out of my way, princess. Let me do what he sent me here to do.”

“Ben, you need to back off and Richie you need to let go of me,” you said through gritted teeth. But Richie’s iron grip didn’t loosen and Ben didn’t move. Bowers took another step towards you and the tingling in your fingertips turned into an uncomfortable prickling. It was as if millions of small needles pierced through your skin. Blood started to rush in your ears, something inside you starting to push. “One more step, Bowers,” you warned, feeling like your power was suffocating you from the inside.

Darkness. It was the darkness you had felt that day when the children had died, the day of the carnage. You hadn’t been able to control it back then. What if you hurt Richie or the others?

Panicking, you clawed at Richie’s arm around you, thrashing until his grip loosened slightly just as Ben took a step towards Henry Bowers. Crazy eyes shifted from you to the handsome man. Bowers was just about to lunge when you finally wound yourself out of Richie’s hold. He would kill him. First Ben and then Richie. Richie.

You know how to wield it, instinctively.

Your mother’s words rang through you and you made a decision—you let the darkness wash over you, consume you, guide you. Your hands clenched into fists, nails digging into your palms painfully. And you willed Bowers to freeze. The joyful insanity on his face immediately turned into fear. Pure and utter fear, eyes meeting yours. “Witch,” he spat at you.

Power, pure and cataclysmic, rushed through your veins.

Kill him, kill him, kill him.

You barely registered that the other’s were saying things, that someone tried to pull you out of the room again. No, not just someone. Richie.

“You tried to kill him.” The midnight voice that came from you wasn’t entirely your own. Everyone fell silent, the pulling stopped. “I will kill them all,” Bowers explained, a grin on his face. You shook your head slowly, feeling how you descended deeper and deeper into that well of power inside you. “Not if I kill you first,” you snarled and with a simple snap of your finger his neck cracked, the sound crisp and unmistakable.

As his body fell to the floor with a loud thud, the knife clattering to the ground, your power retreated, slowly nestling itself back into its well. You sunk to your knees, seeing how blood seeped from Bowers’ eyes, ears, and nostrils, slowly trickling to the floor.

“What…what just happened?” Ben stammered. “How did you do that?” Richie asked, voice eerily low. You looked at the friends, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I’m not entirely sure,” you admitted, your stomach leaden when you saw the confusion and dread in their eyes. “Richie,” you started but fell silent, unsure of what you should say.

Beverly was the one who snapped out of it first, her steps tentative as she came into the room, taking a closer look at Bowers’ lifeless body. She grimaced at the body before kneeling next to you. “How did you do that?” she asked softly, “Just try to explain it to us.”

And so you did.

Taglist:

@lilwickedred @shockwavee @itssmaugtheterrible @ggclarissa @chillcan @jojo-buttercup @victor-criss-bish @discodeakky @kaetastic @discodiscodeaky @cigarettesandtattoos @ma-ntequilla @tozierskaspb

[allforhader]

You love me?

Richie Tozier x (M) Reader

Requested by: @roygbivvie

Warnings: Langauge

“Are you nervous?”

“Always”

“Oh come on babe. I’m just meeting your friends. This isn’t one of your shows”

“I know I know. I just want them to like you as much as I do” Richie smiles wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist as he laughs a bit to himself before kissing him lovingly.

After a short drive to the Denbrough residency, Richie found himself sitting in the car for a while as Y/N stayed with him the entire time. He enjoys the moments Richie has when he talks about his friends because he considers them family and he’s proud of them. They mean the world to Richie, so of course Y/N is nervous but there’s something else coursing one Richie’s head that he can’t quite pin.

Meeting his friends

Is like meeting his parents

Well to him—

Fuck.

Shit. How am I gonna tell him

Wait no

Shit—

That can wait till after introducing him to your friends

Fuck but

No! I want to be alone to tell him

Richie snaps out of it when Y/N put the car in park before taking the keys out so he’d stop running the battery.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, are you?”

“Yeah” Y/N laughs a bit leaning in kissing Richie’s cheek before getting out of the car.

As they walk up to the door, Richie instantly wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist startling him slightly. He smiles easing into it as he rings the doorbell. Richie frowns feeling Y/N tense up a bit when the dork opens revealing a very happy Beverly.

“Honestly thought Bill would answer the door to his own home” Richie laughs as Bev pulls him into a hug making Y/N step back a bit.

“You must be Y/N” Bev smiles parting from Richie. “Richie talks about you all the time, but your reviews also say a lot”

Living in LA, as a critic? Is shit sometimes. Y/N laughs a bit to himself even more anxious than before but he was reviewed her work. He enjoys it. It’s original. But what a weird way of pointing him out seconds of meeting him.

“Yeah, what can I say? A lot” Y/N smiles watching Bev laugh a bit before letting them both in.

Y/N walks into the main room before freezing to the extremely tall men in front of him.

“Shit—Is everyone taller than me?”

“You’re taller than me, love” Bev smiles resting a hand on Y/N shoulder. The nicknames. Hm. “You’re also taller than Bill. So, in the middle when around all of us”

“Ah. Great. Um I’m Y/N” Y/N smiles holding his hand out to Mike as he happily took it.

“Mike, it’s great to finally meet the man Richie’s been keeping away from us” Mike laughs a bit with the losers as Richie rubs the back of his neck. “So how’d you meet Richie?”

“Hey don’t ask those questions without me here. I wanna know too” Bill enters the room they’re all in and instantly recognizes Y/N. “You were that guy that won trivia night, what like nine months ago?”

“Yep. Where Richie met me. A bar” Y/N laughs a bit to himself feeling anxious. “I still beat your asses though.” the ten second confidence kicked in.

“If Eddie was around, he probably would’ve beaten you in trivia” Ben adds watching Richie give him a defeated look when Y/N looked perfectly fine.

Eddie Mentioned Counter: 1

“So what’s your poison?” Bev asks stealing Y/N from Richie going to get themselves some drinks.

Mike wraps his arm around Richie smiling. “He’s a catch huh?”

“Yeah, yeah he is” Richie smiles settling in with the rest of the guys as the two hung out in the kitchen.

“So. What are you having?”

“You got tequila?”

“I bet Bill has some somewhere” Bev states as she moves a stool over to reach the cabinets. “When we Uh...had a reunion. Everybody was doing tequila shots. Or was it vodka? I don’t know. But Eddie wouldn’t stop staring at Richie when he was doing’em”

2

“Are you talking about the time you went back to Derry or wherever your hometown is?”

“Did Richie Tell you?” Bev asks as she climbs down handing Y/N the bottle.

“Yeah, after like five months. He thought I wouldn’t take it seriously-“

“I would be surprised if you did. Heavy shit happened those few days”

“Yeah...I’m sorry about your losses by the way. I’ve been told how much...Eddie and the other guy...Stan? How much they meant to you guys” Y/N frowns setting the bottle down on the counter.

3

“Did he...tell you everything? With Eddie?”

4

“Uh-“

“Hey what’s taking you two so long?” Ben smiles. “Bev, can’t hog the boyfriend from the rest of us”

Y/N slips through while taking the bottle with him. He stops to look at the two embrace one another. His heart started pounding in his ears making him bump into the wall on the way to the living room.

“Shit-“ Y/N frowns pinching the bridge of his nose as Richie got up quickly from his seat going to check up on Y/N.

“Are you okay?” Richie frowns resting his hand on his cheek watching Y/N light up at the touch.

“Hm” Mike watches the two getting a confused look from Bill.

“What?”

“Nothing” He shrugs getting up and taking the bottle from Y/N. “I’ll go get some shot glasses, make yourself at home”

Y/N grabbed onto Richie’s jacket indicating something but Richie wasn’t catching on that he only did it because he was getting anxious. Richie wrapped his arms around Y/N feeling him squeeze him.

A couple shots later...

“You critiqued all my books? Where the fuck were you during book tours?”

“Publishing my articles my good sir” Y/N laughs setting down the empty glass.

“Want another?” Bev smiles sliding the bottle as Y/N refused. “Aww come on. Live a little”

“I’m good” Y/N laughs feeling Richie rest his head against his shoulder after having a few shots himself. “Are you?”

“Hm? Yes. Dandy” Richie smiles straightening up and bringing Y/N close to his person.

“I’m definitely...calling an Uber”

“So responsible. How in hell did Richie catch a catch like you?”

“Well it’s definitely not for the jokes” Y/N jokes catching a gasp from Richie before laughing with him and sneaking in a kiss.

“Sounds like Eddie”

5

Richie and Y/N tense up a bit from that as Richie pulls away from Y/N seeing his confused expression before smiling nervously. Y/N got up to take a minute as Richie looks at his losers confused on where they were getting at.

“You really think it’s appropriate?”

“What? We can talk about Eddie-“

“But with every thing he does?”

“Well Richie you so have a type hun”

“Oh my god” Richie gets up from the couch about to get Y/N to leave.

“Richie, I know what happened happened some time ago but you loved Eddie. You were very expressive of it and we were just worried that you’d forget or something-“

“Okay—No. I would never forget Eddie. But if he knew how I felt, hell even if he didn’t, he would’ve wanted me to move on. And I did! I fell in love with a guy who is willing to take all of my baggage. He lets me talk about it without turning away! He doesn’t think I’m weird in a bad way. He...” Richie frowns looking at his losers. “I may not know...if he loves me. But I love him. FUCK—I love Y/N. He makes everyday WORTH IT. I love him and I was nervous all fucking night that my friends wouldn’t like him. Shit. I’m nervous right now because I confessed my love for him to my friends? Y’know. That’s history repeating itself and I’m not going to have it” Richie turned around immediately running into Y/N who heard everything he said.

“You love me?”

Richie felt all his anxiety build up more than before as he brought his head down. His four losers were silently watching the two have a moment. Y/N smiles resting his index under his chin lifting it to make him look at him.

“Richie...”

“I mean...do you want me to repeat it? I kinda did already just not to your face”

“Nervous, baby?” Y/N smiles instantly being pulled into Richie’s embrace catching a laugh from Y/N and a few squeaks and gasps from the peanut gallery.

“Nervous in a good way sexy” Richie smirks making everyone laugh a bit at that but Y/N felt his face heat up.

“I love you too Richie Tozier” Y/N whispers in his ear making him instantly pick him up throwing him over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Bill asks catching Richie turn around while Y/N rests over his shoulder.

“I love this man and I don’t think the losers want to see me show him how much I love him in THAT way” Richie teases getting smacked in the back by a very angry but flustered Y/N.

[willddheartt]

Babylon: Neon Lights | C.H. Chapter One: Babylon

It had been a love-hate relationship between them the entire time they’ve known one another. Nobody could explain, or pinpoint, the anger and hostility between Calum and Cherry every time they were together. At this point, their friends get concerned when there isn’t a passive-aggressive comment made or some type of glare exchanged. They met through mutual friends, who tried to set them up, saying they’re perfect for each other, leaving everyone astonished that something so perfect went so wrong. 

DISCLAIMER: SOME PARTS MIGHT BE R RATED !!

Series warnings: Substances (alcohol & cigarettes), Anger (snappy comments), that's it?? 

Series Masterlist

It had been a love-hate relationship between them the entire time they’ve known one another. Nobody could explain, or pinpoint, the anger and hostility between the pair every time they were together. At this point, their friends get concerned when there isn’t a passive-aggressive comment made or some type of glare exchanged. They met through mutual friends who tried to set them up, saying they’re perfect for each other, everyone was astonished that something so perfect went so wrong. 

June 19th  I placed the perfectly folded shirt on the pile and grabbed another, counting down the minutes until the end of our shift, as Violet went on about the plans for Ashton’s birthday this coming month.  “Mikey suggested something at his place, kind of like a drinks and DJ sesh but then Calum said a club would be better, so I don’t know” She shrugged.  I scoffed, “Of course Calum would suggest a club”  “Why can’t you two get along?” She sighed, rolling her eyes  “I don’t know,” I shrugged, “I tried when you and Ash introduced us, but he was so cold and rude that I gave up trying to be friends,” Violet shook her head as she folded a pair of jeans, “It bugs ash that you can get along at any event,” Hearing her comment made me feel bad, I never meant to hurt Ashton or anyone else in our group. Especially Ash.  “I’ll try to get better at it,” I nodded  The blinding white smile returned on Violet's face, “How soon do you think you’re willing to try that?”  “What are we doing tonight?” I laughed, sighing. “Yay,” Violet jumped, clapping, “We’re going to Mikey’s, he’s ordering dinner and we're going to continue planning Ashton’s birthday. Obviously, Cal is going to be there, so be on your best behaviour.” She pointed a stern finger at me.  “Got it.” I nodded, “Are we going straight from work to Mike’s?”  The brunette shrugged, “We can stop by our place if you need to but my original plan was to go straight there.”  “I’ll meet you there,”

The last five minutes of my shift seemed to drag on forever, the mound of clothes I was folding didn’t seem to get any smaller either, but finally, the alarm on my phone sounded and Violet and I were out of there. Telling our co-workers a quick ‘bye’ and ‘see you tomorrow’ we were off. Violet took off in the direction of Michaels's house and I went back to our shared apartment to change out of my work clothes before going to see friends.  The air-conditioned mall was a drastically different temperature from outside in the June heat, my long sleeve shirt and jeans no longer seemed appropriate. 

-

I was the last to arrive at Michaels, having all eyes on me when I walked into the backyard to join everyone around the fire.  “You made it!” Michael smiled, hugging me quickly  I nodded, taking my seat. “Yeah, just got stuck behind some traffic,”  Looking around I didn’t spot Calum in the small group, a wave of relief washed over me for a second, only to be completely evaporated seconds later.  “I was sitting there,” Calum spoke, tightly as he sat down next to me on the wicker patio couch  “Apologies, Hood. You got up.” I shrugged sipping on the soda Luke passed me from the pizza order. “What's that? Liquor? Already?” I asked Calum, looking over his shoulder into the glass he held close to his chest  “It's none of your concern,” He replied, lowly so only I could hear him. “The sun hasn’t even gone down yet, what turned you into a day drinker?”  “You and that attitude,” Calum bit back 

“Okay!” Violet said, clapping her hands to get my attention, “Let's go back to spitballing ideas,” 

As the night went on, soda refills got mixed with liquor and Violet never let me out of her gaze for longer than a second. Being pressed shoulder to shoulder with Calum all night was really testing my patience. Almost as much as his snarky comments, he made under his breath, thinking nobody could hear them.  Walking out to the group with our newest refills I set the tray of drinks on the table, grabbing my glass and squeezing back into the corner of the couch that I stole from Calum at the beginning of the evening. I pulled my knees up to my chest as I sat down, the exposed skin on my bare arms and legs automatically sticking to Calum’s leather jacket. 

I moved around to find a position where I wouldn’t stick to the faux leather that is his black jacket, but my constant fidgeting was starting to weigh in on him.  “Jesus Christ, can you sit still?” Calum snapped quietly as the others were laughing over something Luke said,  “Sorry but who wears a leather jacket in the middle of the summer?” I snapped back, “I keep sticking to it.” I continued to move “What will make you sit still?” “That that thing off,” I sighed  Calum shuffled around in his seat, shrugging his jacket off and letting it fall to the ground behind the couch, “Better?” He sighed  “Much,” I nodded. 

Calum went back to the group conversation, adding his two senses in on the joke Violet made, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything when his skin was so hot against my own. Maybe it was the evening heat, or it might have been the fact that Calum made my skin feel like it was on fire whenever we touched. It was almost unbearable to sit next to him on that small, crowded couch. Thankfully, I had the perfect excuse in my back pocket.  I pulled myself out of the corner of the couch, flashing the box of Marlboro Reds from my pocket and walking to the side of the house, away from the group. I walked around until I couldn’t see the group anymore, and only heard faint laughing, before stopping to light a cigarette. I paced around in a circle a few times as I inhaled the cigarette at hand, before sliding down the side of the house to sit on the ground, stretching my legs out in front of me. It was an odd sense peaceful away from everyone, the sun still hadn’t set all the way and the sky was holding hues of pink and purple. I was so consumed by the silence I had with just myself that when “Bum a smoke?” was mumbled to my left, I jumped, being pulled away from the sense of peace I had minutes before when I saw Calum standing next to me. 

“What? Sorry?” I said quickly, without the normal hostility  “Can I bum a smoke? I'm out.” He asked again, this time more annunciated. I held my cigarette between my teeth and handed him my pack with my lighter. Pulling a knee up to my chest, I took the cigarette from my mouth, holding it between my fingers, and rested my arm over my knee as I looked up at the sky and exhaled smoke from my lungs. Calum stood next to where I sat on the ground, making me feel shorter than I already was when standing next to him. Looking up, I watched him throw his head back as he exhaled the smoke. 

“Didn’t know you smoked,” I mumbled  “Yet you willingly gave me a cigarette,”  “Wasn’t gonna stop ya, I’m not your mom,” I shrugged.  “Yeah, Joy is cooler,” Calum nodded. He wasn’t being hostile or aggressive and it almost seemed like he was genuinely joking with me but I remembered how things were back with the group.  I nodded, “She really is,”

Calum and I stepped on our cigarette butts, putting them out, and walked back to the group.  For a second I thought Calum might not be as bad as I always thought, that lasted up until we returned to the group and the snarky comments returned as we squashed back onto the couch.