#i think mike's feeling really guilty about last night here (he should) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

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COSMIC - S3:E2; Chapter Two, The Mall Rats - [Pt. 4 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

Baffled with Mike's sudden behavior, El seeks out Y/n and Max for advice while Will struggles to get through to Mike and Lucas. Billy takes his co-worker on a field trip, and Steve and Dustin enlist a helpful ally in their top-secret mission.

⚠️: s3 mike wheeler, y/n and mike angst. more google translate. the reader eating ice cream [if you're lactose intolerant, it's dairy-free xp], mama steve loving and worrying about his children, his little henderson ducklings especially 🥰 *heavy sigh* oh yeah, kidnapping and more possible allegory to r*pe :( as usual, a marker will be placed but it plays till the end of the chapter so you only need one

🔑: y/f/o = your favorite [ice cream] order

📝: idk if the tip seems small or not but either way keep in mind this was the eighties so inflation hadn't gotten quite as bad yet. As far as the Mike stuff, I know he wasn't being possessive, he was just worried she would get caught and taken away or worse but also he handled it badly, and then everything else in this chapter just kinda rode that angsty bad decision train outta here lmao.

|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

"если действовать осторожно... неделя длинная. серебряный--"

Robin pauses her pacing momentarily to point at the tape Dustin has in his hands.

"Wait, that last part, just one more time,"

The sounds of the wires hissing as they rewind fill Robin's thoughtful silence.

"если действовать осторожно... неделя--"

"Okay, that word!" She says, and Dustin quickly presses pause. "Um... it's pronounced... 'dly-nna-ya.'"

"'Dly-nna-ya'" Dustin repeats, nodding excitedly.

"Which is spelled—"

"-D... D, D, D..." Dustin mutters, springing up from his seat, scurrying towards the whiteboard as Robin grabs the book. "The— The chair! The chair-looking thingy!" He says, pointing to the Russian 'д'.

"Yeah, okay," Robin mutters excitedly, hurriedly scribbling into their notes.

The glass partition swings open with a loud clang alerting Steve at the counter.

"We've got our first sentence,"

"Oh, seriously?" He asks, turning around with two orders in his hands.

"Yeah," Robin nods. She drops her voice into a lower pitch and imitates a Russian accent. "The veek is longh,"

Steve's face falls. "Well, that's thrilling,"

"I know, but," she shrugs. "Progress."

With that, she retreats into the window and slides the door close leaving Steve to return to his ice cream slinging duties.

"Okay, here you go. You got uh, a vanilla with sprinkles and extra whipped cream and one y/f/o,"

Steve hands off the rest of the orders to El and Y/n who gladly take them. Max stood next to them, digging into the order she had already been handed. She only comes up to say 'thanks' in near sync with her friends.

"Wait a second," he says, a thoughtful look falling over his face as he frowns at El. "Are even allowed to be here?"

The girls freeze, once again pausing to share a knowing look with growing ice cream-mustached smiles and giggle. In a hurry, the three of them scurry for the door. Y/n nearly makes it before coming to a skidding halt that leaves her bouncing on one foot as she catches her balance. She runs back to the counter with a mischievous smile and a dollar in hand.

Steve watches confused as she tucks the dollar away in the tip jar, and sends him what he finds to be a childish wink.

"Keep this quiet?" She asks, and he almost laughs. But he could tell she was all too serious. "Also this is your tip! Thanks, Steve,"

Steve watches utterly baffled as she turns on her heel and makes a break for the girls waiting just outside and around the corner.

"Okay?" He says, beginning to trail off. "Wasn't gonna tell anyone anyway?"

She's nearly out the door when he realizes what her being here means. He hopes it's not too late to call after her.

"Hey, wait a sec!"

Thankfully, she hears him and turns back around. He motions her forward and while confused, she ultimately complies.

"Hey, uh, does Dustin know you're here?"

Y/n tilts her head as she thinks about it then shrugs.

"I'm not sure, why?" She asks, taking a lick of her ice cream.

Steve hooks a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the window but he pauses when he realizes it's better she doesn't know what he's doing here. He quickly plays it off and plants both hands on the counter to lean against it.

"I don't, uh— It's just that he came by earlier and he seemed pretty down about last night,"

Y/n's shoulders slumped immediately, her eyes widening a little.

"He did?" She winced, nibbling nervously on her lip as she looked guiltily at her ice cream. And in doing so, any budding feeling of anger and protectiveness vanishes in Steve. "It's just, he wasn't there when I left and I assumed he went with the guys to Mike's."

With the same, guilty look in her eyes, Y/n glanced over her shoulder at her waiting friends and Steve instantly regretted bringing it up. He sighs, shaking his head.

"Look, it's—"

"If he comes back, will you tell him I'm sorry?" She laughed a little, very sheepishly. "That we can guilt Mom off the TV again so we can a have a monster movie night like we used to, or something?"

In that moment Steve decides not to be honest with her and tell her he's probably still too upset for that, he just doesn't have to heart to. Nor does Steve have the guts to say it wouldn't matter anyway, that he's right in the back room decoding a top-secret Russian communication. So instead, he forces his lips into a firm line that was supposed to be a smile and nods.

"Sure thing, kid,"

She perks a little. "Thanks, Steve. I'll see ya later,"

"Alright, take care," he straightens from the counter, watching as she retreats back out of the shop. He sighs again, almost hating how soft and protective he's become, and calls after her, nodding discretely in El's direction. It all comes out in the form of annoyance, though, naturally. "And don't be stupid, alright?"

Y/n smiles in response and returns to her friends. Together, the three of them disappear into the crowd.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

One of many sets of double doors swing open as Y/n, El, and Max step back out into the sunlight.

Despite their every desires to keep their special day at the mall going, the three girls knew the bus back into town was leaving shortly. Y/n takes another quick and frantic lick of her fastly melting ice cream as Max turns to El and gestures to her strawberry ice cream cone.

"Wanna trade?"

El responds with a giggle and eagerly trades off her vanilla cone for strawberry.

"No... fair," Y/n grumbles, nearly attacking her ice cream as it turns to a puddle before her eyes. She spares only a single second glare enviously at their still freshly frozen cones while she has spent between licks.

"You're not," lick. "making your," lick. "ice cr━ shit!" two licks. "melt."

The girls giggle again, wholeheartedly amused by the sight before them.

"Shut up," another lick.

"That's ridiculous," came a nearby, all too familiar whine. "Why can't I just—"

Max's face falls into a glower, pulling Y/n and El into a stop next to her. "Oh, you gotta be shitting me."

Just across the concrete entrance, fumbling to separate their bikes from the bike stands were Mike, Lucas, and Will.

Forgetting her melting ice cream momentarily, Y/n takes a moment to sigh at the ground when she realizes whatever is about to pass, will be far from good.

"—haven't got that much," Lucas says.

"Okay, what if we split it?"

"Split it with what? Does that even make sense?"

Two of the three boys continue to bicker, completely unaware of the three angry figures making their way towards them. More specifically, two angry figures and one slightly disgusted one who tosses out her nearly finished ice cream cone and the napkin she used to wipe her hands off with in the trash cans they all pass.

"Isn't this a nice surprise?" Max asks, plastering on a smirk as the three boys and their bikes come to a halt before them.

Mike's face pales when he realizes Max had caught him, and even more so when he realizes El is with her. His bike crashes to the ground, forgotten as he gapes at her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Shopping." She answers matter-of-factly, her icy stare never once wavering.

"This is her new style," Max says, eyeing him carefully. "What do you think?"

"What's wrong with you?" He spits, gesturing to El. "You know she's not allowed to be here."

"What is she, your little pet?" Max fires back.

"Yeah. Am I your pet?" El asks.

"What? No!"

"Mike, she needed this," Y/n says. "Besides, you lied to her! What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here either."

Mike finally turns his wild gaze to Y/n, utterly baffled at the stance she was taking.

"Are you kidding me?" He gawks, ignoring her eye roll. "You of all people should know about keeping her a secret,"

Y/n hotly takes a threatening step forward. "Meaning what?"

"Meaning you would know, you're good at hiding her,"

Everyone inched closer, apart from El who was seething at Mike. Y/n, on the other hand, scoffs loudly, throwing her arms up in frustration.

"You said you were over that!"

"Yeah, well, guess I'm not,"

She looked around quickly, her voice falling into a whispered hiss. "What, so I should be locked up all day, too?"

"Maybe!" Mike said, instantly feeling guilty.

"Mike!" Will snaps, stepping forward another few inches. And so did El, her shoulder subconsciously shielding Y/n. Shielding her from, Mike, or Mike from her, she wasn't sure.

But she knew she was livid. And hurt.

Mike sighs, putting his face into his hands and running them tiredly over his face.

"I'm sorry, that was over the line," he sighs, sounding embarrassed.

"-You're damn right it was," Y/n snapped.

"But that doesn't change the fact that she really can't be here," he corrects himself, looking El in the eye carefully. "You can't be here. It's not safe,"

"I can take care of myself," El says.

"I mean," Mike sighs again, frustrated as he trips over his own words. "you and a lot of other people could be in danger if anybody starts asking questions. I just care about you, alright? And I don't want anything to happen to you, not again,"

El shakes her head, all visible anger melting away leaving only sadness in its wake.

"Then why do you treat me like garbage?"

"What?"

"You said Nana was sick,"

The panic returns to his eyes, and he and Lucas desperately try to cover their tracks.

From over their shoulder, Y/n meets eyes with an exasperated Will, and the couple shares a look and tired shake of the head.

"She is. She is sick!"

"Yeah, sick— she's sick," Lucas nods. "She's super sick. And that's why we're here, actually."

Y/n silently meets Will's eye again and makes out the subtle firm line he presses his lips into and the small shake of his head 'no'.

Oblivious to Will, the two continue.

"Yeah, w-we're shopping! Not for us, but for her, for Nana,"

"For Nana."

"Also," Mike sighs, giving El an earnest look. "we're here to get a gift for you. It's just, we couldn't find anything that suited you and I only have, like, $3.50, so it's hard."

"-super hard." Lucas sighs, giving an honest, apologetic look to all three of them. "It's— It's expensive,"

"Speaking of," came Will's, softened voice. "Here ya go. Sorry it's not real,"

He takes a step forward and sheepishly offers the small goodie bag to Y/n. Everyone watches confused and almost a little intrigued as Y/n takes it curiously. Quickly, she dives her gaze and hand into the baggie and smiles as she pulls out the small y/f/f candy ring.

"Oh, a ring pop?" She flashes Will a beaming smile as she rips open the package and slips it on her finger. "Thanks, Will,"

He nods happily, completely relieved she was this happy to get one.

Y/n's smile drops instantly when she remembers what they're interrupting and she quiets, clearing her throat a little.

"Sorry," she mumbled, sending an especially sorry look to El as her hand graces her shoulders in a gentle apology.

El sends her a weak smile, eyes falling back down. Sadly, she looks to her ice cream and then deeply into Mike's eyes as the day's events all come crashing down on her. And it's with great disappointment she realizes what has hurt her, and what hasn't.

She shakes her head softly, the disappointment evident on her face now more than ever.

"You lie," she says finally, all the more saddened to see Mike squirm under her gaze, only confirming her words. El shakes her head again. "Why do you lie?"

She waits and waits and when Mike can't give an answer, the screech of the bus's tires in the distance tells her a decision must be made. And it's with a seething glare, El makes up her mind.

Everyone watches carefully in silence as she takes three tantalizing steps until she's staring up at Mike. He's frozen, as is everyone else as he fears her next words. And he has every reason to.

"I dump your ass."

Y/n's eyes find Will's once again, this time, regret clouding them when she realizes. Tonight was meant to be spent at his house, dinner with him, Jonathan, and Joyce at least but it seems the day had different plans in mind. She stood rooted to the spot, her lips parted in shock as she processed what had just happened.

She detected sadness in Will's eyes, as she was used she had in her own but reality came crashing down, breaking her from her spell.

"I'm sorry," she sputters, more so to Will than Mike and Lucas. "I didn't think she would," she breathes.

"What?" Mike's widened eyes land on her, flickering between her and El's retreating figure. "Did you tell her to do this?"

"Of course not!" She said, eyes darting between him and Lucas sympathetically. "But it's still their decision. I'm sorry. I am,"

"Y/n! You coming?"

Y/n looked over her shoulder to find El and Max moving up the line, nearly ready to board. From there, El looked between Y/n and Mike, as if she were worried Mike would take it out on Y/n more. Y/n gave her friend a weak, reassuring smile and turned back to the guys.

Will specifically.

"I'm sorry," she said to Will, beginning to back away even though she didn't really want to leave him. "But I think I need to be with them right now. Is it okay if we take a rain check?"

Will smiled, nodding and she felt a fresh wave of guilt. She could have sworn she saw a hint of sadness but if it was ever there, he had buried it for her sake.

In a spur of the moment, she ran forward and planted a kiss on his lips before pulling back. She shot Lucas and Mike a lingering look, not really knowing what to feel for them in the moment.

And then she took off.

The three friends stood baffled, reeling from how much everything had changed so quickly. Their legs kicked into gear and followed the crowds to the bus but the doors had just swung closed. From where they stood at the curb, they could make out three familiar lingering silhouettes from behind the tinted windows, all piling in together.

Max had nabbed the window seat, El seating herself next to her. It was only a matter of moments before Y/n had joined them, plopping herself in the seat directly behind them. She peeked out over the low backs of their seats, wedged right in between them with a breathless look.

For just that moment, the three best friends sat there in stunned silence before breaking into a breathless laugh.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The sun had set behind even the lowest of valleys, bathing the town in a pale glow and unforgiving chill that couldn't be quenched even on the hottest days of summer. Starcourt mall was alive in every way but one; the hum of the neon lights reached every corner, but the mall had long since closed leaving it a beautiful, vibrant wasteland.

The only remaining occupants were tucked away in the backroom of Scoops Ahoy, standing before a whiteboard facing the daring truth they had worked so hard to uncover. In perfect sync, they read the words aloud with confusion muddling their brains and exhaustion filling their systems.

"The week is long, the silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west."

Steve, Robin, and Dustin stand before the translation willing something to make sense. But all they were left with when they turned in for the night, closing the grated metal gate that went with closing up shop was utter bafflement.

"I mean, it just..." Steve sighs into the ground, the keys in his hand turning in the lock. "It just can't be right."

"It's right," Robin assures. When Steve returns to his feet the three of them begin their lazy journey to the exit.

"Honestly, I think this is great news," Dustin shrugs.

"How is this great news?" Steve chuckles bitterly. I mean, so much for being American heroes. It's total nonsense."

"It's not nonsense. It's too specific. It has to be a code."

Steve's face screws up into a puzzled pout. "What do you mean, a code?"

"Like a super-secret spy code,"

"That's a total stretch,"

"I don't know, is it?" Robin scoffs.

"You're buying into this?"

"Listen, just for kicks, let's entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. What'd you think they were gonna say, 'Fire the warhead at noon'?"

"Exactly," Dustin gestures, his gaze returning up to Steve to see the gears spinning in his head.

"And my translation is correct," Robin assures. "I know that for sure, so... 'The silver cat feeds'. Why would anyone talk like that unless they're trying to mask the true meaning of their message?"

"Exactly!"

"And why would anyone mask the true meaning of their message unless the true meaning of their message was somehow sensitive?"

By now, Dustin was rubbing his triumphant smirk in Steve's face. "Exactly."

"So I guess that confirms your suspicion," Robin says, looking to Dustin who remains triumphant.

"Evil Russians,"

Robin wears a tired smile as she looks back at Steve with a dry chuckle. "I can't believe I'm about to agree with this strange child, but, yeah, totally evil Russians."

"So how do we crack it?" Dustin asks, flashing his charming toothless grin her way.

"Well, I guess we translate the rest and hopefully a pattern emerges."

"A pattern. Right, like maybe 'silver cat' is a meeting place?"

"Or a person."

"Or a weapon,"

"It's probably gonna take a super genius to track it, but..." Robin trails off when she notices she is one dingus short. "Where's Steve?"

The new duo spin on their heels where they spot their missing friend a few yards down. He had a frown screwed onto his face as he stood in front of one of the many kiddie rides, his hands diving into his pockets no doubt searching for coins. Sure enough, the clinking of coins rattling together as he purs them out in his palm confirms their suspicions.

"Hey, Steve," Robin calls, her empty hand swinging limply out in a puzzled gesture. "What are you doing?"

"Uh, it's," Steve doesn't bother answering her question and the only time he picks his eyes up off his hands is to check the mechanical horse for its cost. "a quarter. I need--" he mumbles to himself, looking hopefully to his friends. "Do you have a quarter?"

Despite her confusion, Robin lets out a chuckle, and she and Dustin quickly shuffle over to Steve's side. "Sure you're tall enough for that ride?"

"Quarter!" He yells, jumping forward to catch the coin Robin flipped out for him.

He catches it with a clumsy spin and drops his knees to insert it into the ride. They watch was Steve remains huddled on the ground, a funny look on his face as the ride begins. Robin can't resist poking fun, and does with little strain on her voice to be heard over the music.

"You need help getting up, little Stevie?"

"Shh-shh! Shh!" Steve snaps, gesturing to the galloping horse. More specifically the music it plays. "Would you two just shut up and listen?"

Robin and Dustin are almost shocked at his seriousness, but the smile remains on Dustin's face from Robin's comment. That is until it eventually slips off his face when he realizes why the familiar tune being played before them was so familiar.

"Holy shit," he breathes, locking eyes with a grave-looking Steve. Dustin looks to Robin, helping her to connect the dots as he begins shedding his backpack from his shoulders. "The music,"

He had heard it all day. They all had while translating the tape. The very tune Steve had been complaining so much about.

"The music!" Dustin cries again, dropping to his knees as he desperately fishes his bag for the tape.

How had he not recognized it? Y/n and him used to ride the Indiana Flyer at the fair as soon as they were old enough. And then the caricell, over and over every year until they were old enough to ride the bigger rides. And even then, the tune carried out across the Fun Fair where it could be heard from as far as the top of the Ferris wheel. The two of them would drag their mother every year. It was the sound of his childhood.

Dustin presses play on the tape, and as he gazes up at Robin, silently pleading for the dots to connect the sound of the song on the tape is louder than Russian for the first time all day.

But Robin only shrugs between them.

"I don't understand,"

"It's the exact same song on the recording,"

"Maybe they have horses like this in Russia?"

"The 'Indiana Flyer'? I don't..." Steve shakes his head. The look on his face made clear he wished he was wrong. He looked... unsettled. "I don't think so. This code, it... it didn’t come from Russia."

And they that unease. They could feel it settling into their chests, making their hearts beat a little faster and their stomach twisting up into knots at what he said next.

"It came from here."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The roads are empty, even still. Crickets sing into the night and the steady breeze taking itself through Hawkins back roads are momentarily swept up with the leaves when a lone Chevrolet Camaro pulls into Brimborne. The lot remained abandoned, seemingly, other than the figure stepping out of the car, with sweat on his brow.

The summer sun had set hours ago, taking the searing heat with it. But the humidity that clung to the air felt to be Billy like he was sitting far too close to an open fire. But still, he lumbers to the trunk where the reason for his being here lies.

The latch opens with a loud clunk, and the trunk lid opens slowly. His eyes find the contents immediately, as does the murky light from the trunk bulb onto his face.

She was still unconscious.

A foreign voice in his brain — the one who had brought them both here, the one to have put here — spoke up again without permission. And yet, it didn't exactly speak in words, but feelings. And all that shot to the surface was one thing — one word.

Good.

It was Billy who couldn't stop thinking about it. What he had done. The small part of him that fought.

[■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■]

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

Among the pain, Billy feels tears building up inside him when he realizes what that tug in his gut is ordering him to do. He can also feel it happening again. He can feel himself slipping away, just as he had when he fled for the showers. But this time he fought it.

God, he fought it so hard.

But it wasn't enough.

His nails dug into the flesh of his knees that he had been clutching so tightly to his chest. That and the tears racing down his cheeks now blending with the water were the last things to happen that were truly Billy's doing.

"Billy, are you okay—?"

The last thing Billy sees before he loses control is his hand lunging for Heather's throat. His iron grip locks her in a chokehold and her hands fly to his. Desperately she claws at his hands, her nails raking into his skin but he never flinches. She feels her feet leave the ground, her toes grazing the tile floor as he picks her up and pins her to the stall doors.

Her widened, fearful eyes look deep into his but all she finds as he rips the curtain closed is the lack of human emotion within him. His eyes were hollow, the whites of his eyes running black and they are the last thing she sees before unconsciousness overtakes her.

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

She's limp in his arms as he carries her throughout the darkness of Brimborne whose only source of light is moonlight spilling through the dirtied glass window panes hanging high above. He walks with all the time in the world, his eyes dead set on the last place Billy ever wanted to see again. The only sound to be heard within miles was the scuffle of his rubber soles scraping against the dirt and leaves sprinkled across the concrete.

The scratchy thumps of his boots turn to metal echoes as he disappears down the darkened stairwell. From there, inky blackness like the sludge coursing through his veins is all that can be seen. Little moonlight has survived the journey through the grated floor, but there was enough to illuminate Heather's body that he places onto the cement floor.

Soft, discomforted groans break through the duct tape over her mouth as she comes to. She rolls onto her back, confused as to why she feels pain in her head and cement digging into her spine.

But everything she needs to know becomes all too clear almost instantly when she sees Billy's hollowed eyes staring down at her from where he's perched above her. Panic sets in, and as she realizes all too late why she is unable to move her hands or feet. That doesn't stop Heather from trying as she fights against the restraints, eager to use her dried-out voice.

Her breath is knocked loose when Billy throws her back into the ground after she managed to sit up even an inch.

He keeps a small majority of his weight on her shoulders as he leans in close, his breath on her ear.

"Don't be afraid. It'll be over soon."

Tears tickle her temple when they escape her eyes. She prays for many things, but she'll even settle for the small possibility the sweat collecting on her skin is enough to weaken the tape on her mouth. Then maybe, just maybe she can scream for help.

"Just stay very still."

This specific hope fizzles away, drowning in her own confusion when, without moving his head, he looks to her and slowly peels the tape off of her lips.

She's too shocked to do anything. Too afraid. But she wasn't prepared to let that stop her. Heather was going to do something, she had to. She would.

But that all died when Billy suddenly stood up, looking almost disinterested in her as an eery, unnatural sound reverberates throughout the darkness before her. Slowly, her head turns to face the dark abyss when she catches movement out of the corner of her eye.

His face is as hard as stone though his eyes hold a flicker of struggle and pain when it all unfolds. Heather may be the only one in binding, but she is not the only one who is trapped. There is nothing at all Billy can do but watch as the large and bloodied mass of flesh stomps forward from the shadows, ready to feast.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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FSFAPV Justice: "community family coalition that offers help and justice to families in the Twin Cities and nationwide that have lost loved ones to police violence" - [link]

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· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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79 notes · View notes

reddie-fangirl24 · 2 years

Note

Hello again !!

Uh, Reddie for "there's no way that's true"

But like it's when someone let's it slip to Richie that Eddie is into him? And Eddie asks about it and Richie says that, and it all gets tangled up in a miscommunication?

Because Eddie misunderstands Richie's disbelief?

Love your work, and stay healthy!!

“There’s no way that’s true!” Richie mumbled without raising his voice. Eddie was at the front of the line of the Losers chatting it up with Bill and Stan. Just like old times. Oh yeah, and if he yelled again that snappy woman would have a conniption. It’s not like she owned this island.

Just the other night when they were taking a shortcut through the courtyard, let’s just say Richie had a little too much to drink, and he was being louder than usual. Mike told him the next morning that they should have taken a picture of her face.

“Come on, Richie!” Beverly rolled her eyes. “You know it, all the Losers know it, and so does Eddie! You two have been crushing on each other since before I joined you guys!”

Trying to hide his red cheeks, Richie looked at Eddie. Why did he look so cute in those shorts? From the looks of it, he was ranting off about something. A very Eddie-thing which Richie had a guilty pleasure for.

A year ago, they had their reunion in Derry where they faced the clown one last time. Eddie almost died. And he divorced his wife right in the hospital and came to live with Richie in L.A. As great as it was, it was tormenting! Like when he was twelve, Richie still couldn’t get up the courage to tell Eddie how he felt.

“Even if I told him, he’d flip out,” Richie told her, trying to keep his voice down. They fell back from the group more. During their time on the island, it was the first time he realized how happy he was. He was happy to be back with his friends, fix his career into what he wanted, but still, there was something missing.

“How do you know he’d flip out?”

Richie halted. “Wait, did you have this conversation with Eddie?”

Beverly’s eyes did a dance. “Oh, uh...”

“Do you know something that you’re not telling me?”

Beverly looked at the group. The only one who looked to see where they were was Ben. Pointing to the ice cream place which was right next to them, the two went inside and snagged a table. A bunch of sugar-high kids were running around as their parents tried to control them.

“Eddie talked to me the other night,” Beverly admitted.

“And you’re just now telling me?!”

“Oh, I didn’t know I was a lookout!”

Richie took a deep breath. He had this tight knot in his stomach. Believing that going on vacation would take his mind off his lingering feelings for Eddie, it didn’t. Seeing him in a bathing suit really made him wild.

“Look, he didn’t want me to say anything, but the other night I found him crying on the beach,” Beverly explained. “He’s feeling really confused about everything, like being happy.”

Eddie was upset? Was this going on back home and he didn’t know it? He and Eddie shared a small room here, too. How did he not know that Eddie snuck out?

“And in our talk, he just mentioned that he may have feelings for you but he doesn’t understand them. His mother never wanted him to think that way.”

His mother. Eddie’s shitting mother. That woman did all the thinking and control for him. And then there was his shitty ex-wife, Myra who was no better.”

“I think you should talk to him, Richie,” Beverly told him, touching his arm.

“Even though I’m a moron?”

“You’re not a moron! Well, not a total moron.”

“Gee, thanks for the positivity, Red!”

“Oh, shut up, you’re lucky I gave you any advice!” She stood up. “Come on, let’s get back to everyone.”

“Wait, aren’t we going to get ice cream?” Richie asked, pointing over to the counter.

Beverly just stared at him with a ‘seriously’ look, and smiled. “You are really such a kid, you know that?”

“Don’t you think everyone would be suspicious that we didn’t come in here to get ice cream?” he pointed out, shrugging.

“Well, I guess you’re not a big moron,” Beverly smiled, patting his shoulders.

“Thanks for the promotion.”

#Reddie #it chapter 2 #Beverly Marsh #Richie Tozier #Reddie Fanfiction #it movie

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docholligay · 2 years

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Shamash Answers: Holligay Hates

The question was basically, to give me a good ol kvetch: A Jewish method of complaining that is, at core, funny (and collaborative and community-based, but that’s a whole nother thing we’re not going to get into here, I just wanted FUNNY)

HERE WERE THE FIVE BEST:

Our new neighbors seem like very nice people, but either they are running a black market tile shop or they are tiling their entire house, apparently with special tiles that can only be cut between the hours of seven and ten by a single man armed with a very whiny saw. They’d better be making Minoan mosaics in there, that’s all I can tell you.-- Lou

I died at “making Minoan mosaics” ahaha

Pardon me, I do apologize for the bother, but please explain to me why you felt it necessary to plant flowers right up to the edge of the landscaped section of the parking lot? See, the way you have it done, if I park in the last spot, I can't open my car door without beheading petunias and whatever those ugly red feathery things are. I'm not a fan, but I still feel guilty being the cause of their demise. Also, once I have opened the car door and gotten put, I have to battle the jungle to get to the back of the car. I do not wish to play Tarzan each time I go for a drive, and I worry that there are ticks in your exotic grasses. Or venomous imported spiders, I did watch Arachnophobia last night, you know. And why is it all on such an artificially made, steep mound? We are not a mountain goat. You know what looks nice this time of year? Decorative cabbage. And it's low, so my car door would just sweep right over the top without inflicting damage. And they should be planted far enough apart to enable my easy egress from the parking area. Also, not a common habitat for ticks. -- @incorrecttact

I LOVE DECORATIVE CABBAGE. You can ask @keyofjetwolf, I mention it every time we go downtown and see them in the little planters! Also, yes, this is perfectly what I was talking about, and I love that you can vaguely hear Michiru saying this.

Well, if we're complaining then: How dare you live in a different timezone from me! Do you have any idea how many times I've seen you schedule something at noon, then needed to wait 2 whole extra hours before you actually started? At least 2 times! It was very boring! This is definitely something for you to fix, as the solution will not be me learning how time works. Also, your ask link on your blog has a period next to a comma, it looks dumb. -- @skylineofspace

“The solution will not be mel earning how time works” was great, but it was really the nitpicky editing at the end that sent me

Hey, Sis, I made the frozen pizza you asked for to clear up space in the freezer and we can finish our leftovers from 3 different meals tomorrow like you also requested. What do you mean why didn't I make eggs? No one told *me* there's a great sale going on I'm so sorry I forgot to enable my telepathy today. No, going on for 10 god-forsaken minutes about how it would have been much better to use up a bunch of older eggs is not going to transubstantiate the pizza you asked for and it's cold now because you kept kvetching about the bloody eggs instead of eating it.--- @annoni-no

THIS MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD I DID A DRAMATIC READING FOR JETTY. I was giggling, but “transubstantiate the pizza’ killed me, beautiful, no notes.

You know what stupid ass shit I'm still pissed about? MIKE EATING THOSE SHITTY LITTLE DEBBIE MOTHER'S DAY CAKES. I put them on a top shelf, Doc. THEY WERE IN NARNIA'S NARNIA. So not only did he have to go out of his way to know they were even there, but then he didn't say WORD. FUCKING. ONE. to ask if they were for any purpose. WHO THE SHIT BUYS THEMED LITTLE DEBBIE CAKES WITHOUT REASON. Did he think I was lured in by the idea of a new flavour sensation possible only in Mother's Day cakes? NO BECAUSE THEY ALL TASTE THE EXACT FUCKING SAME DON'T THEY. PLUS they're still like $2.78 a box because they've never contained a single ingredient natural to this planet. So if seeing them sparked a sudden desire for Miniscule Deborah snack cakes, maybe, I dunno, GO FUCKING BUY SOME. But no. NO. He had to take the THEMED ones TUCKED AWAY, and then -- AND FUCKING THEN -- eat THE ENTIRE GODDAMN BOX. Not just one and then "oops I wasn't thinking". THE WHOLE BLOODY BOX. So he either ate them slowly over the course of several days without once stopping to think, or he inhaled the entire box in one sitting, and which is worse?? Which pathway of possibility is the least appealing? I don't know! I can't decide! But he did it over two years ago, AND STILL IT SOMETIMES POPS INTO MY HEAD AND IN THAT MOMENT I'M THREE SECONDS AWAY FROM DIVORCE I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD and over LITTLE GODDAMN DEBBIE-- @keyofjetwolf

I die EVERY FUCKING TIME I READ THIS. This is exactly what I was looking for, a petty wild ride from beginning to end, amazing, iconic, also, the soul of being married, kids, let me tell you what.

#eights days shamash drawing

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suituuup · 3 years

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pieces - chapter eleven

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn’t expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rated: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

Beca woke up the next morning to the birds singing, which was odd, until she remembered she wasn’t in NYC, but in Oregon, at Chloe’s parents’. A glance at her phone told her she had slept later than she usually did, and she burrowed herself deeper beneath the covers, exhaling a sigh.

The smell of breakfast eventually lured out of the warm cocoon, and she made a stop at the bathroom before heading downstairs.

Chloe’s mom was cooking at the stove, and she looked over her shoulder when Beca approached. “Oh, good morning, Beca. Did you sleep well?”

Beca wasn’t usually one to talk in the mornings, at least not before she had her morning coffee, but she mustered a smile and made an effort. “Morning. Yes, thank you.”

“Chloe told me you drank coffee in the morning. I put a mug out for you on the table, there’s fresh coffee in the pot. You like pancakes?” She asked as she flipped one in her pan.

Beca could tell where Chloe (or at least college Chloe) got her morning energy from, and she stifled a chuckle as she moved to pour herself a much-needed cup. “Yeah. Pancakes sound great.” She leaned against the counter, cradling her mug between her palms. “Where’s Chloe?”

“Talking with her dad out on the back porch,” Alice said, adding the freshly made pancake to the pile. She turned off the stove and wiped her hands on her apron, focusing on Beca. “We didn’t have the chance to yesterday, but Mike and I wanted to thank you from the bottom of our hearts for what you did for Chloe. Thank you really doesn’t feel like enough. I’m not sure where she’d be without you.”

“You really don’t need to thank me. I’m just glad she’s doing better.”

“And for taking over those payments, too. It-- it feels like too much and…”

Beca shook her head. “Like I said to Chloe, it really is okay, Mrs. Bea-- Alice. I don’t want to flaunt my money around, but I’m more than able to spare 2000 dollars a month, and I’m happy to spend it helping people who need it, like you and Mike. So please, accept it?” She smiled softly. “I know how much you mean to Chloe, and I’d do anything for her.”

Before Alice could reply, the door at the back of the kitchen opened and Chloe stepped inside, holding it open to let her father wheel in. She cast Beca a smile. “Hey, you. Sleep well? Mom didn’t attack you with questions, did she? I told her you needed coffee first.”

“I behaved myself,” Alice mumbled, sticking her tongue out before going back to her pancakes.

Beca chuckled. “She did.”

After breakfast, Beca helped herself to a shower, before Chloe whisked her away to show her around town. They drove down the main street, and Chloe parked in front of the local high school, cutting the ignition and stepping out. .

“I feel like you were Head Cheerleader,” Beca said as she shut the door. The smell of the ocean made her smile and breathe in deeply. It was really nice to get out of the city for a bit.

Chloe smirked, shaking her head as they headed down the sidewalk of what looked like the main street. “Nope.”

“Softball? You had to be some sort of athlete.”

“Wrong again.”

Beca hummed as she thought. “Track?”

Chloe slipped her hands inside her jacket pockets, walking backward so she was facing Beca. “You’re looking at Oregon’s 400m State Champion for the year 2006.”

Beca’s jaw dropped. “Seriously? How come you never told me that??”

Chloe’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Never came up. I’ll show you my trophy when we get home.” She pointed across the street. “This is the cafe my friends and I went to every weekend to gossip about the boys.”

“Gossiping about boys, huh?” Beca asked, smirking. “Who was your high school crush?”

“This guy named Ian. He was on the swimming team.”

Beca cut her a glance. “You guys ever dated?”

“He asked me out once. Then he asked another girl to prom. I was heartbroken.”

“Aw.” Beca grinned. “Did you cross off the love doodles featuring his name from your notebooks while belting out to songs from your break-up playlist?”

Chloe shoved her shoulder as Beca laughed. “Shut up. I didn’t have a break-up playlist.”

“But you had one for songs you liked getting off to?” Beca couldn’t help but tease. “Weirdo.”

A bright laugh burst past Chloe’s lips. “I can’t believe I burst into your shower.”

A fond smile spread across Beca’s features at the memory. “And I can’t believe I still auditioned knowing my stalker was part of the group.”

“I wasn’t a stalker!” Chloe cried, her jaw-dropping. She giggled. “I just… sort of ignored the boundaries.”

“Which is what stalkers do,” Beca pointed out with another smirk. “It’s cool. I’m glad you did, in hindsight. I got to meet the people who would end up becoming my best friends for life.”

Chloe narrowed her eyes, amusement flashing in her features. “When did you get so cheesy?”

A groan flitted past Beca’s lips. “Ugh. Gross, right?”

As Chloe laughed, Beca realized how much she had missed the banter. Every little piece of Chloe Beale surfacing never failed to make her smile.

Chloe’s step faltered when they came across a baby shop, her eyes lingering on the window.

Beca smiled, nudging Chloe’s shoulder with her own. “We can go in if you want?”

A matching smile spread across Chloe’s features as she nodded, and they both stepped inside the medium-sized store.

“Jesus, kids need that much stuff?” Beca asked as she glanced around the various items, muttering an apology when the employee glanced at her.

Stifling a giggle, Chloe headed to the onesie section and browsed through the rack. “Oh Bec, look,” she said, holding up a simple, white onesie that read little bean in cool lettering. The smile that lit up Chloe’s face as she looked at the item was the first one Beca had seen reach her eyes since Chloe had been back in her life and the sight of it made her heart swell.

Chloe must have felt her staring, and she glanced up curiously. “What?”

“Nothing,” she cleared her throat. “You’re just… glowing.”

“I think you should get it,” she added not to make it awkward. “It’s adorable.”

After their stop at the store, she and Chloe headed to the wharf for lunch. It was a sunny, warm spring day, and they sat on a bench in front of the sea to eat their sandwiches as Chloe shared more memories about growing up in her hometown.

“So how did you and Sarah meet?” Chloe asked following a lull in the conversation.

Beca finished chewing her bite and swallowed, washing it down with a sip of soda. “I used to go to the coffee shop pretty often for lunch. We would talk for a bit each time. I was clueless to her flirting, it was only when she left her number that I realized she was into me.”

Chloe chuckled, eyeing her with a raised eyebrow. “You? Clueless to flirting? That doesn’t sound right.”

Beca’s eyes rolled skyward as she fought back a smile. “Bite me, Beale.”

Chloe giggled. “Sorry. She seems like a great girl, though.”

“Yeah,” Beca breathed out, trying to ignore the way her stomach flipped. “She really is.”

And she meant that. She cared a lot about Sarah, but ever since their talk about a month ago, she had been questioning her own commitment to their relationship, going back and forth about what she wanted. The fact that she had been so oblivious about Sarah’s needs to take the next step because she felt comfortable with where they were at was the first red flag that she wasn’t all in.

People should feel the need to move forward after fourteen months together, right?

Sarah was kind, funny, loving, and everything Beca imagined in a significant other, but whenever she found herself trying to picture their life down the road, two, five, ten years from now, her mind went blank.

“You okay?” Chloe asked, her head tilted as she gazed at Beca.

“Yeah,” Beca breathed out, shaking those thoughts out of her head and focusing back on Chloe. She cleared her throat. “What’s next on the list, Beale?”

After buying ice-creams from her favorite shop, Chloe took her to her favorite beach, and they headed home around three, as Chloe felt like taking a nap.

Over the next two days at her parents’, they baked, took walks in the forest or by the sea, and had movie nights with Alice and Mike. Beca made sure to give the three some family time as well, spending a couple of hours every day working on her laptop in the guest room.

That last night in Oregon, she found Chloe on the swingset in the garden, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Beca approached with two hot chocolates, handing one over before lowering herself on the other swing.

“I’ve yet to find a prettier sky than this one,” Chloe mused aloud, craning her neck to look at the starry darkness above them as she cradled her mug between her palms.

“It’s pretty dope,” Beca agreed softly. She glanced at Chloe, and finally plucked the courage to word the thought that had been going in a loop in her mind since their first night in Newport. “Have you given some thought about moving back here?”

She was hoping Chloe would stay with her, to be completely honest. They had just rekindled, and Beca didn’t want her to live on the other side of the country. She could also feel some sort of attachment to Bean, which sounded ridiculous as they weren’t even born yet. But she also understood that Chloe might want to be with her parents, someplace that is close to her heart.

“I don’t know yet,” Chloe admitted, clearing her throat. “I’m concerned about disrupting their lives with a newborn baby. Mom’s already got so much on her plate with taking care of dad, and I don’t know if me being around while I’m still recovering is the smartest idea, with my dad feeling so guilty. I want him to focus on his health. But I guess it would be simpler, right? For you, I mean.”

Beca shook her head. “I told you you could stay as long as you’d like. My place is your home, and I…” she cleared her throat, shrugging as her gaze flickered back to the stars. “I like having you around.”

“I like living with you, too,” Chloe admitted, smiling softly. “And I like my therapist and my NA group.”

And having a routine was essential for a recovering addict.

“Then it feels like a no-brainer,” Beca concluded.

“What about Sarah?” Chloe asked after a moment. “Are you sure she’s okay with me living with you?”

The mention of Sarah made Beca’s heart squeeze with guilt. The last few days only further confirmed how she felt. She wasn’t missing her like she was probably supposed to, even though it had been ten days since they had last seen one another, as Beca had been too busy to do anything besides working, eating and sleeping that week leading up to their trip.

She had been sending Sarah check-in texts because she felt like she had to, not because she wanted to.

Beca needed to sack up and be honest with Sarah, something she had been delaying because she was a coward and terrified of breaking her heart. But she knew deep down she was doing more harm than good right now by running away from how she truly felt.

She knew deep down, that Sarah deserved someone better.

“Yeah,” she replied absent-mindedly, swallowing, then mustering a smile. “Don’t worry about that.”

She sent a text to Sarah later that night, asking if she could come over after they landed in NYC tomorrow night. The following morning, she and Chloe grabbed an early breakfast, as they needed to be in Portland at ten.

“You’re welcome back here anytime, Beca,” Alice said, pulling back from the hug.

A genuine smile spread across Beca’s features. “Thanks, Alice.”

“Bye dad,” Chloe murmured, leaning in to hug him tightly.

Mike closed his eyes and hugged her back. “Safe travels, Chlobear. Love you.”

“Love you, too. So much.” She embraced her mom next, echoing the same sentiment before sliding into the passenger seat and shutting the door behind her.

Beca slid behind the wheel and started the car, pulling out of the driveway and onto the main road as Chloe waved to her parents.

“You okay?” She asked after a moment, glancing at Chloe briefly.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Chloe replied with a firm nod. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“No problem. A break from the city was pretty nice.”

They landed in NYC a little bit after 8 pm. Beca had the cabbie drop Chloe off at her apartment, then headed to Sarah’s, riding the elevator to her floor.

She knocked on the door and stepped back, wiping her sweaty palms over the denim of her jeans. Her stomach was in knots, and she wished she could fast-forward the next twenty minutes or so. The door swung open a few seconds later, Sarah standing on the other side.

“Hey you,” she greeted with a small smile.

“Hey,” Beca murmured, kissing Sarah’s cheek out of habit. “How was your day?”

“Same old,” Sarah said as she shut the door, then moved towards the kitchen. “How was the trip? You want a beer?”

“It was nice,” Beca replied as she followed, leaning against the counter. “No thanks, I’m good.” She took a deep breath, knowing she had to do this now before she chickened out.

“What’s up?” Sarah asked as she closed the fridge and turned around, leaning against the opposite counter.

Beca cleared her throat, nibbling on the inside of her cheek. “So, um. I’ve been thinking a lot about us moving in together and I…” Honesty. Honesty was the best policy. Rip off the band-aid. “I don’t see myself getting there.”

Sarah visibly swallowed, and she nodded slowly, glancing down at the floor for a few beats. Given her reaction, Beca could tell she had been sort of expecting it.

“I’m sorry,” Beca murmured, a lump rising in her throat. “I know I gave you false hope by saying we would figure something out, I just wasn’t sure how I felt up until recently.” She grimaced. “The last thing I want is to hurt you. But you deserve someone who can be all in.”

The tear running down Sarah’s face broke Beca’s heart. She blinked back her own, exhaling slowly.

“Like you seem to be all in with Chloe?” Sarah asked quietly, stunning Beca into silence.

“What?”

Sarah’s eyes rolled towards the ceiling. “You’re oblivious to that, too?” When Beca didn’t say anything, she released a soft laugh. It was anything but humorous. “I see the way you look at her, Bec. I know the both of you living together was something that just happened because Chloe didn’t have anywhere to stay, but I can tell you like having her around. I can tell you have feelings, even if you don’t seem to realize it yet. I was hoping I was wrong, but you not hesitating on going on that trip when we hadn’t seen each other in over a week made it pretty clear that Chloe would always come first.”

Beca’s brain was stuck on the first part. Did she really look at Chloe differently? Feelings? She cared about her, sure, but-- “That’s not—”

Sarah swiped her palm over her cheeks, nodding. “And you’re right. I deserve someone who looks at me the way you look at Chloe. Like I’m their person. Someone who loves me as much as I love them.”

“Me ending things doesn’t have anything to do with Chloe,” Beca said softly, truly believing that. She knew the next words were going to sting, but she needed Sarah to believe it, too. “I just… don’t see this going anywhere.” She hung her head, feeling like the worst person in the world for breaking someone’s heart. “I’m sorry, Sarah.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Sarah cleared her throat, pinching her lips together for a moment, seemingly trying to keep a hold on her emotions. “I think you should go.”

Beca nodded, another apology laying on the top of her tongue. She swallowed it back knowing it probably wouldn’t make Sarah feel any better, and pushed to her feet, quietly walking out of Sarah’s apartment.

#bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pieces

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jumptheshark · 3 years

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i get that you’re emotionally repressed, but i’d appreciate it if you called for help when you’ve been stabbed

(or: ghoul is being hunted and doesn’t think to call for help until hes badly injured. tw for graphic descriptions of injuries and violence)

They both hear prayers meant for Michael. It started after Castiel’s set up, when Adam realized that an over-confident archangel isn’t always the best at gauging threats. It works pretty well; Michael screens out the billions of random prayers he gets everyday - as he’s done for years with only a little bit of guilt - and they’re only interrupted every few weeks. And this wonderful system of communication is the reason that Adam is woken up at two in the morning one night by a voice screaming for help between his ears.

“Michael-“ the voice is pained and breaking off. It’s familiar, but Adam can’t place it through the harsh breathing. He does, however, feel Michael’s attention snap in the way it only does when he’s gearing up for a fight, and dread creeps into his gut. “I know we’re not on the best terms, and- and I don’t even know if monsters can pray, but I could really use a hand-“ The voice cuts out with a gasp.

Monster… the only monster that would pray to Michael is-

“Is it Ghoul?”

Michael turns to him with a panic that Adam didn’t expect and doesn’t answer. The dread in his gut turns to icy fear. In the back of their head, an address is mumbled out to them, somewhere in the middle of Wisconsin. The next thing Adam knows, Michael is extending his wings and they’re landing in a cramped, dark room. Even with Michael, it’s cold in here. Each wall is made of smooth stone bricks. Plaques carved with names and years are evenly spaced out across the walls. It’s a crypt, he realizes, and there’s no one in the room but them.

“Michael, where is he?” It had never occurred to him that Ghoul would get into any danger. Adam had gotten so used to the immortality that came with Michael that he forgot it didn’t extend to everyone else, and now all the ways Ghoul could’ve gotten injured are flashing before his eyes. Michael’s looking around frantically, like there’s something he’s missing in this bare room.

“He’s- It’s the warding I carved into his ribs, I can’t find him.” Michael sounds worried, which does not happen often. Just hearing it spikes Adam’s anxiety that much more. “He’s here somewhere, though. I couldn’t find him in the cemetery.” He spares one last look around before leaving. Just before they fly away, Adam realizes there’s a trail of blood coming in from the door.

The next and only other room is equally as empty. It’s also just as quiet, except for the muffled groan that echoes through the far wall. A stone in the corner of it is loose and Adam immediately knows exactly where Ghoul is. Michael doesn’t wait before flying them there.

They’re met with pure darkness, until Michael snaps and the room is illuminated by an invisible source. It’s just like the other two, all cool gray stone and cobwebs, with the notable addition of a trembling body lying on the ground.

“Hey, big guy.” Ghoul is smirking up at them as if he isn’t laying in a pool of his own blood. “Took you long enough.” Adam is so relieved that he doesn’t even notice Michael has moved forward until they’re already kneeling next to Ghoul.

“What happened?” Michael asks. The wounds are bad, whatever it was. His torso has been torn through with gunshots and blood is steadily dripping out of a cut on his head. Looking at it gives Adam a dizzying sense of deja vu.

“Hunters. I guess they don’t take too kindly to strangers eating corpses in this town.” Michael moves Ghoul’s jacket aside and finds his chest sticky with blood. It gushes through his t-shirt in a way that isn’t lethal for a ghoul, but definitely isn’t pleasant either. “When they ran out of bullets, they tried to do it the old fashioned way.” He points to his head, where there are so many bruises and cuts that any human would be long dead from them by now. A few months after they first started talking, Ghoul had told Adam how Dean killed him, how he had bashed his head in until it was a smear of blood on the carpet. And now it’s happened all over again. If Adam was in control of his body, he’d be nauseous.

“Are they still here?” Michael’s voice is all business as he scans Ghoul up and down. Healing monsters isn’t difficult, but it’s a bit different than healing humans; angels weren’t built to care for the impure.

“Yeah, somewhere out in the graveyard, I think. But I’m not worried now that I have my big, strong hero here to protect me.” He winks and Michael levels an unimpressed look at him, but Adam feels the flare of amusement rise up in their chest. They’re growing on each other, even if they both pretend otherwise.

It only takes a press of his fingers to Ghoul’s forehead to heal him. The skin comes back together over his wounds like vines growing across a ravine and the blood evaporates from his clothes into the air. Adam’s pushing forward to take control of their body the instant it’s done.

His arms are around Ghoul as soon as they’re his again, and Ghoul hugs him back just as quickly. He smells like the dirt and dust of the crypt, but he’s alive and breathing and he isn’t going anywhere. Tears rise to his eyes and Adam forces them back.

“Do you know how annoying it would’ve been if we had to go running around purgatory looking for you?” His scolding loses its effect when it’s mumbled into Ghoul’s shoulder, but Adam doesn’t care.

“With tall, dark, and handsome helping out? You’d get me back in no time.” A hand comes up to rub circles into his back and suddenly Adam feels guilty. He should be comforting Ghoul, not the other way around.

“I can hear you, you know.” Michael’s apparition is sitting crossed-legged on the ground next to Ghoul, still looking unimpressed.

“Was kind of counting on it, Mikes.” Ghoul unfolds himself from around Adam and turns towards the archangel. They meet each other with identical pairs of soft eyes and hesitant smiles. Adam can see it sometimes, the comfortable friendship growing between them. It shines in moments like these, when they manage to forget their roles as “archangel” and “monster” and just see each other as people. He just wishes it didn’t have to come at the expense of Ghoul almost dying.

“Kind of cutting it close there, weren’t you?” Adam asks, poking Ghoul’s thigh. “Why didn’t you call us sooner? We could’ve flown you out of here.”

Ghoul is silent for just a second, a brief pause that could be written off as nothing. He perks up the next moment and smirks, but Adam has known him too long now to not recognize his acting face.

“Didn’t want to bother ya. It wouldn’t be the first gang of hunters I’ve escaped. I didn’t expect things to get so hairy, that’s all.” Something sinks in Adam’s chest at the fact that Ghoul still sees himself as a burden, even after these last few months.

“You know that’s really stupid, right?” Ghoul looks down and picks at a rip in his jeans, smiling in a way that doesn’t look very happy. Adam takes his hand in his own and lifts it away from the fabric, folding their fingers together. “We would’ve come for you. We both-“ he nods to Michael, “-care about you a lot. Let us take care of you.” Ghoul looks over at Michael, who nods in agreement. It’s not something he would’ve admitted to a few weeks ago.

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m being chased down for going grocery shopping, thanks.” His tone is softer than his words. For Ghoul, it’s as close to vulnerable as he gets, and it’s good enough for Adam. He stands up, pulling Ghoul with him. Michael isn’t far behind them.

“How about we get out of here and grab some legal food, yeah? How does sushi sound?”

#hi :) i finished it :)#i hope it’s comprehensible #could NOT think of a title so apologies for that #midamoul #ficlet #?#txt

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theomengirl · 4 years

Text

Human Crutch

Levi x Reader

Genre: fluff // Warning: none

scenario: Levi activates his protective side

Hi, it's Z(ee). It's my first time writing and i know i'm lacking in so many ways. That's why if you have any suggestions, feel free to knock my inbox, they'll surely help me grow. Also, English is not my first language so i'll apologize in advance if my writing is not to your liking. Please enjoy! ♡

~~~~~

You slowly get off of the bed, adjusting your balance, trying to stand firmly with your two feet.

It worked.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Feeling proud because your legs have finally healed. During the last Survey Corps expedition, you had broken your legs caused by yourself trying to slash one titan’s neck. Although you succeeded, your landing to the ground wasn’t. Somehow you lost your balance and hit the ground hard. Since then, you’ve been put on absence from trainings and was told to rest. You refused at first because you’re a Squad Leader, that’d make you irresponsible, but after Levi clearly giving you his order as the Captain, you eventually gave in. Eren then was put in charge while you were resting.

Not even a day passed by without Levi staying by your side. Of course, he has a lot to do due to his position but he always made sure you have no difficulties doing your daily routines. He fed you, showered you, carefully changing your bandages, pretty much treating you like a baby who could do nothing. You insisted doing it yourself but he just wouldn’t let you.

He would ask you “you okay, brat?” like every ten minute. Once, you woke up because you felt a slight pain, Levi made a fuss by summoning Hanji and the first-aid team in the middle of the night. He was panicked over nothing and got teased by Hanji for being a sweet boyfriend, only to be responded with "tch. I wasn't panicked." He made Hanji, Eren, or whoever’s available to check up on you regularly when he’s occupied with his work and away from you. There were times when you feel suffocated being stuck in your bedroom, Levi would gladly carry you with him instead of using the wheelchair.

Yes, he was like your human crutch.

Now that he’s in the Capital along with the other veterans, he couldn’t witness your progress but he'll surely know it once he gets back. You quickly put on your uniform to resume your training and watch over your subordinates. You exited the room, only to find Eren with a tray on his hands.

"Squad Leader (Y/N)!" He sounded excited.

You smiled at him, "how's training going?"

He saluted you, "training is going well. We've been waiting for you, Squad Leader (Y/N)!"

"Alright, take it easy, you're being too loud," you ruffled his hair. "Let's see how much you guys have improved while i was gone."

The two of you headed to the training camp. You suddenly halted, feeling a pain in your legs.

Eren quickly supported you with hands, noticing your pained look, "are you okay, Squad Leader (Y/N)?"

"It's nothing," you shrugged him off.

"Are you sure? I don't think you should be walking around now..."

"I said i'm fine. Let's go."

"But Captain Levi said to take care of you-"

"He's not here and i'm your direct supervisor," you hated to be like this but if you don't, Eren will not listen.

He gulped down and nodded. You finally arrived at the training camp -- a view you've been dying to see. You observed the cadets doing their training. Many of them still has sloppy moves, others are average and some stand out like always. You noticed how Armin couldn't do much of kicks despite his gifted intelligence, so you gave him a demo, only resulting with severe pain all over your legs.

Your legs feel numb and you fall on your back, Armin caught you. The pain was tremendous that you're slowly losing consiousness. You could hear murmurs from the cadets and their panicked faces. Just when your eyes were about to shut completely, you heard someone's voice.

"Oh my god, Captain Levi is going to kill us all!"

~~~~~

You felt someone stroking your hair gently. Slowly opening your eyes, you finally saw the person sitting beside you by the bed.

Your favorite raven-haired man. He’s back.

“I don’t remember telling you to walk freely as if you have two damn fine legs,” Levi sounded annoyed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know they haven’t fully healed yet,” you looked at him, feeling guilty for causing trouble.

“For God’s sake, you had me worried sick,” you could see from his gaze that he really is worried about you. “Lucky you, brat. It wasn’t that serious, but from this moment onwards, you’re not allowed to leave your bed and just focus on your treatment. You heard me?”

“I’m sorry for being a burden to you,” you muttered.

He scoffed and cupped your face on his hands, “oi, don’t ever say that. You’re neither a burden to me nor anyone else. I’m taking care of you because you’re precious to me, losing everyone was a hassle and i’ll keep you alive no matter what.”

His words touched you. He was true though, being a soldier in the Survey Corps means you’re facing death head-on and continously mourn for your comcrades. You and Levi have had it enough.

“What if i were to lose my limbs?” you asked.

“I’d carry you around like a rice sack.”

You chuckled at his answer. You pulled him closer to feel his soft lips against yours, the sensation you haven’t felt for a while. Your body tingled when he slipped his tongue in and his fingers started running through your hair, making you cling onto him. You both came for air, breaking away the kiss. “I missed you,” you whispered to him.

“I missed you too, brat. No more getting hurt, alright?” He had the softest gaze, directly looking into your eyes, making you swooned by his charms. He tried to kiss you again when Hanji suddenly barged in.

“WHAT THE HELL LEVI YOU JUST BOLTED OFF WITH THE ODM GEAR- oh? Are you feeling any better, (Y/N)? He just couldn’t wait in the chariot after he heard about you so-”

“(Y/N), tell your lover to stop making the kids running laps,” Mike’s voice was heard from outside and with that the door was shut.

You looked at Levi’s expression. He was about to burst with rage.

“I’ll break their fucking legs.”

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #hanji zoe #mike zacharias #im sorry if this sucks #aot imagines

177 notes · View notes

magniloquent-raven · 3 years

Note

for fluff: "one more chapter" or "there's enough room for both of us"

it’s been 84 years............ but here u go lmao tysm for the prompts!!!!!! i used both!

CW for some brief suicidal ideation, just in case. it’s v mild but pls be careful yall (i know, this fic was supposed to be fluffy 😅)

posted on ao3

------

Billy’s life had changed a lot in the past two years.

So much that some days he barely recognizes himself in the mirror. The scars, the state of his hair—which he hasn’t cut since last summer and generally just throws back for convenience’ sake—the stubble he doesn’t bother with most days. Small things, in the grander scheme of what’s different about his life, but it adds up.

And it’s Friday night, he’s curled up at home, and perfectly content to be there.

There’s a steaming mug of cider on the coffee table (a scratched-up old thing that Hop left him when he officially handed off ownership of his trailer to Billy), and wind rattling the windows, and Max is asleep in the next room. It’s...cozy.

El stopped by earlier that afternoon, Max in tow, demanding Billy let them stay because Mike was being a dick or a DnD campaign was going on too long and El’s character died a while back so she was bored, or...something. Possibly Mike was being a dick about her character being dead. Max kept chiming in with her own two cents worth but it really just made the whole thing harder to follow.

But it didn’t really matter why they stopped by, they’re always coming up with reasons to invade his living room and eat all his food and nag him about teaching them how to do fancy braids. And Max usually wanders off to nap in his room when El starts asking Billy to read to her.

Which is what he’s doing now.

Last month he read her Jane Eyre (her idea). A week ago they started The Hobbit.

It’s been slow going, considering how often El interrupts to ask questions, and every time there’s a song they have the same argument about him not actually singing, but they’re making progress.

He’s reading through the weird goblin song as monotone as possible just so he can laugh at El’s disgruntled scrunchy face, and putting up with her poking his thigh with her toes when he rolls his eyes at her, and honestly having the time of his fucking life, because, yeah, saying things have changed in the past two years is the understatement of the decade.

When he gets to the end of Over Hill and Under Hill and closes the book she gasps dramatically, sitting up and pulling the ugly orange throw blanket (gift from Mrs. Byers) she’d been snuggled up in tighter around her shoulders.

“Billy, no!”

He drops the book in his lap and raises his eyebrows at her. “It’s the end of the chapter.”

“No.”

“Yeah, it definitely is.”

El frowns at him, her whole face going pinched. “But you can’t stop there.”

It’s moments like this that almost make Billy forget she can kill people with her brain. Moments when she just looks like a kid, all wrapped up in her favourite blanket and pouting.

And it’s like she knows that’s his goddamn kryptonite. Because those moments also remind him that she deserves this. More than anyone he knows, she deserves all the childish crap she wants, and more. It won’t ever replace the childhood that was taken from her, but it’s a start.

So, needless to say, Billy has a hard time saying no to her.

He drops his head back against the cushion behind him, staring at the ceiling for a moment—pretending to contemplate, while she glowers at him—and sighs loudly.

“One more chapter.”

She beams.

They’re only a few pages into Riddles in the Dark when a car pulls up, and Billy doesn’t even have time to put the book down before the front door bursts open.

“El! Will thought he—is that The Hobbit?” Dustin comes to an abrupt halt two paces into the room, blinking at the book in Billy’s hands. All his little friends nearly collide with his back, and there’s suddenly a gaggle of obnoxious teenagers huddled in Billy’s doorway.

“Who cares,” Lucas scoffs, pushing him out of the way so he, Wheeler, and Will, can shuffle the rest of the way inside. “Get out of the way!”

Billy is still trying to figure out what the fuck’s even happening when Steve goddamn Harrington walks in behind his pack of brats. Because of course he was the one who drove them here. Him being a fine upstanding citizen and all that. With nothing better to do, apparently. (Not that Billy has room to judge anymore.)

Suddenly the bickering kids are mostly background noise. Billy always did have a hard time concentrating on anything else when Steve’s in the room. Especially when he’s looking like that, warm brown eyes lit up with interest, and the corner of his mouth pulling upwards in a half-smile. His cheeks are pink from the chill outside, his hair a mess from the wind, and locking eyes with him makes Billy’s heart pound.

They’ve been on good terms these past few months and it’s a special kind of torture that Billy wouldn’t give up for the fucking world.

But he doesn’t get to enjoy the view for long because—

“—the Mind Flayer might be back!”

Billy stiffens. “What?” He glances at El. She’s sitting up straight now, her eyes dark, expression closed off.

Mike sighs irritably. “Weren’t you listening? Will thinks he might have sensed the Mind Flayer, so we needed to make sure El’s okay.” He crosses his arms, glaring at Billy. “Because the stupid thing wants her dead, remember?”

“Wheeler,” Steve hisses, and smacks the kid’s shoulder.

“Yeah.” Billy grits his teeth, cold fingers trailing down his spine. “I remember.”

The room is silent for several agonizing seconds, the kids all exchanging glances. Until Billy’s bedroom door opens and Max shuffles out, rubbing her eyes.

“What’s everyone doing here?”

They’d all been hanging out at Steve’s when Will had a bad feeling. The same kind of prickling bone-deep chill he’d gotten two summers ago. Needless to say, ignoring it until people started dying didn’t seem like the way to go this time, hence the home invasion.

Which had been Steve’s idea, apparently. Or. His initial reaction had been to blurt out does this mean Billy’s possessed again, and it had spiraled from there. To Mike freaking out about El not being safe because she was here, to Lucas reminding him that Billy had only gotten the better of her when she didn’t have powers, to Dustin yelling about checking in with her either way because she might have The Facts.

And so they’d broken a couple traffic laws to get here.

Billy suspects Steve feels guilty about suggesting he might be possessed, because he got very awkward when it was brought up. And he stepped in several times when Wheeler and Sinclair’s interrogation got a little too intense (there were threats of hot pokers involved).

It should have felt condescending—Billy’s a grown-ass adult, he doesn’t need someone defending him from lanky teenagers—but he can’t help feeling a little warm when it’s Steve coming to his defense.

The discussion overall is a mess. El doesn’t have any answers, Billy hasn’t felt anything odd lately, and the lack of anything to go on beyond Will having a momentary freakout is putting everyone on edge.

Max, who squished herself onto the couch between Billy and El, cuts through the cyclical arguing after the third dramatic eye-roll from Mike. “Guys, can you cool it for a second. We’re getting nowhere.” Her protest is punctuated by a yawn, which makes El giggle.

“She’s right,” Steve sighs, mussing with his hair absentmindedly. “Billy and El are fine, everyone’s fine, we should all get some sleep.”

“Dude, are you sure you’re good to drive?” Dustin asks, squinting appraisingly at Steve. It’s a fair question, it’s late and Steve looks like he’s about to keel over, but Billy’s not sure he likes where this is going.

“Who said anything about driving?” Max snorts, glancing at Billy.

Damnit Max.

“Is there even space for everyone here? This place is tiny.”

“Fuck you, Wheeler, not all of us can live in goddamn mansions.”

The kid opens his mouth to retort, bristling with indignation, but Will interjects, stuttering a little in his haste, “I, um, I’d feel a little safer if everyone, you know, stayed in one place? At least for tonight?”

And that pretty much settles it.

Once everyone mumbles their (in some cases reluctant) agreement, El crows “Sleepover!” and drags Max off to find spare blankets, leaving Billy sitting on the couch alone and wondering where the hell Steve is gonna sleep. For...no particular reason...other than…

Well.

It’s not like Mike was wrong, the trailer wasn’t built to house six teenagers and two twenty-somethings. Most of them are going to end up squished on the living room floor, and Max and El already called dibs on the couch, and...well, unless Steve wants to crash in the fucking kitchen there really isn’t anywhere else for him to go other than Billy’s room. He doesn’t even have a goddamn tub the guy could curl up in.

And just because he’s wanted Steve Harrington in his bed since minute one, doesn’t mean he wants it right now. Not like this.

Because like this he has to deal with Max’s side-eye, and El’s knowing look (the girl has been in his head, she literally knows everything about him), and Will’s weird wide-eyed interest, and worst of all, Steve not doing this because he wants to.

In fact, judging by the way he blanches when Max suggests it, Billy’s room is the last place he’d like to be. Which is not really something Billy ever really wanted hard proof of, thanks.

He’s dealt with enough in his life, he didn’t need to know exactly how repulsive Steve finds the idea of sleeping in the same room as him.

“You’re welcome to sleep in your goddamn car if my floor isn’t good enough for you, Harrington,” he bites out, probably harsher than was warranted.

Steve blinks at him, mouth falling open, eyebrows raised.

“Oh my god, it’s too cold to sleep outside, Billy,” Max says, rolling her eyes. “Stop being such a dick.”

“Whatever,” he mutters. “Figure your shit out, I’m going to bed.”

The silence he leaves behind is tense and awkward.

He’s been laying in bed staring at the ceiling, moping and berating himself, for about ten minutes when the door creaks open.

“Hey, uh,” Steve’s voice is soft, uncertain, and Billy feels like even more of an asshole for snapping at him. “I’m just...gonna...crash on the floor. Um. Good night.”

This is punishment isn’t it. For being such a douche for so long. Now he gets to try and fall asleep knowing Steve fucking Harrington is laying nearby, sleepy and warm and out of reach. He listens to Steve shuffle around, getting situated, laying out blankets and trying to find a soft bit of carpet to lay on. Has to bite his tongue to keep from saying something stupid. Like offering up his bed. Or poking fun at how much Steve sighs when he’s getting comfortable (Because it’s dumb, not cute. Definitely not cute.).

It’s unclear how long they lay there in the dark, Billy watching moonlight cast the outlines of skeletal trees across the wall, listening to Steve’s quiet breathing to remind himself he’s not alone. That the shadows are just shadows and there’s no reason to be tense and sweating and—

Billy’s pretty sure it’s been long enough that Steve should be asleep, considering how tired he looked, so he tosses his blanket off and swipes the pack of cigarettes off his bedside table, hoping to god the floor doesn’t creak when he pads across the room. There’s no noise coming from the other room, so either the kids are asleep too or a miracle has occurred and they’re all just being really quiet.

He slips out the side door, and takes a breath. The lake is too still, despite the wind. No self-respecting body of water doesn’t have waves. But it’s pretty enough, he supposes. Enough to make for a decent view while he smokes a cigarette.

Takes a couple tries to light up. His hands aren’t what they used to be, especially in the cold. Holding off a thirty-foot meat puppet bare-handed does that to a person, tears shit up that doesn’t heal right afterwards.

He’s about halfway through his cig when Steve joins him. Billy’s shoulders stiffen at the sound of footsteps, and he doesn’t relax at all when he realizes who it is.

“Hey.”

Out of the corner of his eye Billy watches Steve lean against the porch railing beside him. He takes another drag before he looks over properly, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Billy raises his eyebrows. Gestures with his cigarette and turns away again. “No shit.”

He can feel Steve’s eyes on him, and he resolutely ignores it. Stares out at the water and flicks cigarette ash over the railing. The wind picks up again and cuts through his thin shirt. Should’ve grabbed a fucking sweater. Not because the cold bothers him at all, but...well, because it doesn’t anymore.

He shivers when a completely-unrelated-to-the-weather chill runs down his spine.

“Soo…” Steve fidgets, and trails off awkwardly, his nonchalance painfully fake.

The corner of Billy’s mouth twitches, and he raises his cigarette to his lips, a flimsy excuse to hide his smile.

“Did, uh. Did El choose the book, or…?”

He chokes on a mouthful of smoke. Doc Owens did tell him he shouldn’t have taken up smoking again. Though he was probably more concerned about Billy’s scarred lungs and than Steve Harrington-related hazards.

Coughing definitely does hurt a lot more than it used to though.

He flinches when Steve touches his shoulder, pats it, rubs a little—trying to help with the coughing, presumably—making Billy’s heart trip over itself.

Once he’s no longer wheezing he wipes his eyes, and waves off Steve’s apologies, hoping the embarrassed flush on his cheeks isn’t too visible in the dim light.

Steve’s hand stays where it is.

For several quiet moments Billy waits for him to withdraw but he doesn’t, and Billy finally meets his eyes. Which was probably a mistake. His heart skips again. He’s still not used to Steve looking at him like that. Soft and wide-eyed and concerned and…

God, he’s so fucking beautiful. Billy used to dream about getting this close without needing pretense, without having to pretend, getting to bask in the warmth coming off him and feel his breath on his skin and see something other than indifference—or worse, the hatred that came later—looking back at him. What he has now is...not quite what he wants. It lights him up but leaves him wanting.

Another gust of wind makes a mess of Steve’s hair, locks falling into his eyes and sticking up in all directions, and Billy itches. Clenches his fist to stop himself from fixing it.

“Her dweeby little friends kept talking about it, and she couldn’t get through it herself. So...” Billy trails off, scratching his cheek and glancing away. “I may have had a copy laying around.”

Steve’s hand finally leaves its perch on his shoulder—both a disappointment and a relief—to brush the stray locks of hair out of his face. He grins at Billy, whole face lit up and stupidly pretty even as his fingers get stuck in tangles. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Billy bites the inside of his cheek. “My mom used to read it to me.”

It’s easier to talk about her now. Mostly with El, who’s still the only person who knows the full story, but, well, he’s pretty sure at least Max and Steve have guessed the bits they weren’t told. Or, hell, maybe El told everyone everything during those months he was out of commission and everyone thought he was dead, and no one’s brought it up to his face because it would be awkward as hell.

In any case, Steve’s expression softens.

“Oh,” he says quietly. “So, you and her were pretty close, huh?”

If asked Billy would have blamed the sudden sting of tears in his eyes on the wind. “I guess.” A pause. “Not enough for her to take me when she left,” he mumbles, chewing his thumbnail and frowning out at the lake.

His cigarette hangs between two fingers in his other hand.

“Billy…”

“Don’t. I’ve heard every condolence in the book, okay. It’s...it’s fine.”

For several long moments the only sounds are the dry rustle of leaves in the wind and Billy’s nail-biting.

Then Steve slips his fingers around Billy’s wrist and tugs gently. Too surprised to resist, Billy lets him. Lets his hand be pulled away from his face, thumb pressed to his pulsepoint, lets him hold on for a beat longer than necessary before letting go. And Billy stares at him the whole time, lips parted, shoulders tense, waiting to see what Steve will do next.

What he does next is smile a little sad, and tilt his head. “It’s a bad habit, you know. Biting your nails.”

“I don’t have any other kind of habit.”

“Hm,” Steve hums, “I don’t think that’s true.”

Which is a weird thing to say, and a weird thing to get emotional over, and yet Billy kind of feels like he’s been punched in the chest.

He rubs at the knotted scar tissue that spiderwebs across his whole torso, and can’t help but wonder—not for the first time—if Steve’s perception of him might be a little blinded by the one good thing he’s ever done. He’s tried to be better since then, atone a little, but Steve’s confidence in him still feels unearned.

And all the work he’s put into getting his shit together might all be for nothing anyways, if some fucking slime monster decides to crawl down his throat again. If Will’s right and that thing is back...for all he knows the thing has it out for him too, after the shit he pulled at Starcourt. He thought he’d end up dead, he wasn’t exactly worried about making himself a target in the long run.

But now...

Billy exhales slowly through his nose, eyes falling shut for a moment before he grits out, “I can’t do it again.” Steve blinks at him, nonplussed. “This,” he taps his scars, “The fucking. Mind Flayer bullshit. I can’t.”

“You…” Steve folds his arms across his stomach, hands clutching his elbows. It’s a nervous tic that makes Billy ache. Always makes his heart clench, but tonight that gets lost in the black hole of anxiety already twisting up his insides “You won’t have to, I—we’ll protect you. If we stick together—”

“It’s not a guarantee.”

“No, but—”

“We don’t know anything about this alien shit, for all we know I was never really free of it, and—I just—promise you won’t let it use me again,” Billy’s voice breaks, and he clenches his jaw to try and hold it all back, the taste of bile in the back of his throat, the crushing weight of existential panic pressing in.

Steve’s eyes widen, “What do you mean by that?”

“You know what I mean. Crash another car into me. Let your ex shoot me in the fucking head. I don’t care how, I need you to stop me.” He needs to understand, Billy’s eyes bore into him, willing him to understand.

But he shakes his head, face twisted up with horror, “I don’t think I can do that.”

Billy takes a step towards him, desperation bleeding into his voice, “Steve.” He blinks back tears. “Please.”

“Don’t—” Steve looks away, curling in on himself, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what, ask you to perform a public fucking service?” Billy spits, eyes stinging, face burning. He regrets the words once they’re spoken, but there’s no taking them back now. He’s talked with Owens about this sort of shit and he thought he was past it.

Apparently not.

He deflates. Like a slap in the face, it stops him dead, turns his agonizing back inward where it fucking belongs. Wiping his eyes, he sighs.

It’s too late to stop the puppy-dog eyes Steve’s giving him now though. The unreserved sadness in the way he’s looking at Billy is so overwhelming it’s almost palpable. “Is that really how you feel?”

Is it? He’s not sure anymore. It was for a long time. Long enough that he couldn’t remember feeling any other kind of way until El reminded him. But now…

He shrugs. “It’s...complicated. I—ah, shit!” His hand jerks, and the cigarette he’d been holding falls to the ground. That never used to hurt so fucking much. “Damn thing burnt me.”

He sucks on the stinging knuckle, waiting for the pain to subside, tasting salt and ash, and looks back up at Steve.

They lock eyes.

Steve’s expression has closed off, his gaze still heavy, but with something else, sliding down Billy’s face with an intensity Billy’s not quite sure what to make of. He’s struck dumb by the attention (not something he usually has a problem handling), lips still wrapped around his finger but his mouth has gone slack.

It feels like a static shock, one crackling jolt of a moment, something sharp lancing through him, and then it’s over. Steve’s blinking, glancing away. Billy’s hand falls to his side. It would be like it never happened except he still feels charged, pent up, heart full to bursting and stomach in knots.

Billy sighs, and rubs his eyes. “Let’s just...go back to bed.”

Wording, Billy. Wording. His cheeks warm a little, but he manages to keep his expression neutral as he turns and heads back inside.

He practically throws himself into his bed, curling up on his side and pulling the blankets around him, back turned to Steve. Sleep seems like a pipe dream at this point, but doing anything other than pretending to get some rest would involve talking to and/or looking at Steve, so. Not an option.

But after he listens to Steve settle back into his little pile of blankets, the minutes crawl by, and Billy gets twitchy. Wants so badly to move, toss and turn and fidget, and say something, but doesn’t know where to start and doesn’t want to draw Steve’s attention, and—

God, this is so fucking stupid.

Billy rolls over. “Steve.”

“Yeah?”

The room is silent for a beat. He shuffles around a little and the sheets rustle loudly in the quiet.

“Would you get up here,” he says suddenly, all at once, demanding, scarcely believing what the fuck is coming out of his mouth.

“...What?” Steve sounds a little breathless and it makes Billy’s stomach clench.

“Just...there’s enough room for both of us, alright.” Jesus christ.

The lump of Steve and blankets on the floor doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak, for what seems like an eternity, and Billy’s about to brush it off, turn it into a joke, take it back, something, when—

“Okay.”

Oh.

What?

Oh god, he’s getting up. This is happening. Billy stares at his silhouette, the tense line of his shoulders, his awkward gait, and wonders why he’s agreeing to this if he’s so goddamn uncomfortable.

Guess the floor is officially less comfortable than being in bed with Billy. Joy.

But then he’s sliding under the covers and Billy forgets to be bitter because his brain is mostly static at this point. White noise and his heartbeat thundering in his ears and the deafening creak of boxspring groaning under unexpected weight.

And Steve’s doing that thing again, sighing, little hums as he wiggles around getting himself situated, and Billy is dying. He thought he was being punished before, but now he’s sure, because this is ridiculous. No grown man should be that adorable.

By the time he’s gotten himself comfy Billy is about ready to combust.

It doesn’t help that he’s decided to lay down extremely close and facing Billy. It’s so intimate it hurts.

“Do you think you’ll actually sleep?”

Billy shrugs noncommittally. “Maybe.” He tries to make it sound more casual than it is. Like it’s a choice and not the sad fact that he’s too fucking anxious to relax.

Seems he’s not the only one though, Steve keeps fidgeting, his face doing something weird Billy can’t quite see in the gloom. But he doesn’t have to see to recognize Steve’s tics.

“Spit it out,” Billy sighs.

“What did you mean. When you said it’s complicated?” Steve asks softly.

Ah.

“You really wanna get into this?” He sure doesn’t, but Steve nods and Billy’s fucking weak when it comes to giving Steve what he wants. “I meant that...I...used to feel like that. All the time. It was fucking relentless.” He thinks about rolling onto his back so he won’t have to look at Steve for this, but finds himself stuck, drawn in by the faint starlight reflected in Steve’s eyes. “But nowadays I’ve got...shit to hang on for, I guess. Doesn’t make it all go away, but it makes it easier.”

“Oh.” Steve wriggles a little closer, his hand landing in the space between their pillows. Right next to Billy’s hand. Close enough that he can feel him there, but not quite touching.

He doesn’t say anything else, which Billy’s grateful for. He’s got Doc Owens for the big speeches about how life is worth living, and it’s grating enough getting them from someone who’s literal job is to say that kind of shit.

It helps. It does. But he can only handle so much.

Speaking of which.

“I’m sorry,” Billy says quietly. He’s keeping his hand too still for it to come across as casual, trembling with the effort. If he moved his pinky just a little they’d be touching, and he’s painfully aware of this fact.

“What for?”

“Earlier, when I...I was asking for a lot.”

“Oh.” Steve shifts, the blankets rustling as he shuffles around, but as much as he fidgets, his hand stays where it is. “Billy...I don’t want you to have to go through that again, but…”

Billy, on an impulse—with a feeling somewhat akin to stepping off a ledge without a parachute—hooks his pinky over Steve’s. In the dark he hears a soft intake of breath, can just barely make out the way Steve’s mouth falls open, moonlight casting shadows when his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

“I know. It wasn’t fair to—”

“No, no,” Steve flips his palm upward and laces their fingers together, squeezing Billy’s hand. “It’s not that. You have every right to be scared, and...look, this whole thing is batshit crazy, none of us know how to deal with it.”

Billy runs his thumb along the length of Steve’s index finger, marvelling at the contact, and the way his pulse flutters when the gesture is returned. It takes him a second to find his voice, “True, but you’ve never asked me to mercy kill you.”

Steve exhales, the ghost of a laugh, and it warms the back of Billy’s hand. He shivers, his whole arm tingling. “Billy, I haven’t gone through half the shit you have.” A pause. “I want to help. Anything you need, just...not that.”

Anything. It catches in Billy’s throat, stops his heart for just a second, reminds him that they’re inches apart, in bed together. For the second time tonight he feels like he’s been punched in the sternum, and he goes rigid, relaxing only minutely when Steve squeezes his hand again.

“Careful, pretty boy. Saying shit like that might give a guy ideas,” he murmurs, gaze searching, wandering Steve’s face, the shadows cast by the soft fall of hair across his forehead.

“Oh yeah?” Steve pulls their clasped hands to his chest. His heart is racing, but his voice is steady, “Well, have enough ideas with no follow-through and a guy might think you’re all talk.”

Billy’s breath catches. The world stops. “You...you don’t want me to follow through.”

The reality of the situation hits him like a train. Flirting is one thing, he’s always had a hard time keeping his mouth shut around Steve, but this is something he’d only ever regretted letting himself imagine because he knew he’d never have it. And now that it’s within reach...

“See, the thing is…” Steve slides a little closer. His knee brushes Billy’s thigh. “I really, really do.”

“I—” his voice breaks, mouth dry, throat closing up as he tries to swallow past the lump making it hard to breathe.

“Billy,” Steve whispers, a hot puff of air against Billy’s lips. “Please.”

Fuck.

He surges forward—hard enough that their teeth click together—and his mouth muffles Steve’s gasp. The hand not cradled against Steve’s chest comes up to touch his cheek, fingertips caressing his jaw, coaxing him closer, sliding back to thread into his hair.

Steve’s lips are plush and warm against his, curved into a smile that leaves Billy tingling, dizzy and drunk on sensations. The way his mouth tastes, the softness of his skin under Billy’s scarred palm, the way his heart twists when Steve reaches out to touch his chest.

He pulls back, and rests his forehead against Steve’s. His eyes stay shut and he just breathes. Soaks up the moment.

“God,” Steve sighs, nuzzling their noses together. “Always knew you’d be good at that.”

“Yeah?” Billy asks quietly, fiddling with the stray locks of hair behind Steve’s ear. He’s feeling...raw. Vulnerable. It’s a fragile state of being, one wrong word away from breaking. Or a few right words away from fucking bliss, but that never seems to be how it goes for him.

“Yeah, even when we didn’t like each other I wondered. Annoyed the hell outta me.”

“Steve…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully, “I always liked you.” If his heart wasn’t already racing, it sure would be now. He braces himself for the worst.

But it doesn’t come. There’s a pause. Steve’s fingers curl into the front of his shirt. “Oh.” He presses a chaste kiss to Billy’s lips, lingering, before chuckling lightly. “That explains a lot actually.”

Billy’s cheeks burn. Yeah, he supposes it would. “You’re not...freaked out?” he ventures, hesitant.

“Mm, nope.” He reaches up, brushes a stray curl out of Billy’s face. “Definitely okay with this.”

I love you.

The thought doesn’t shock him but the desire to say it out loud does. The way it lodges itself in his throat and sticks. He hasn’t said it to anyone—hasn’t wanted to say it to anyone—since his mother left. The precedent is intimidating, but…

Steve smells like honey and clean air, laying in bed with Billy, warm and pliant next to him tracing patterns in Billy’s scars, his gaze is fond, his smile is soft, and...and Billy’s in love.

He swallows. Pushes it down for now.

He kisses Steve again. Slower. A gentle press of mouths, and another. Takes his time deepening it, teasing with his tongue. He waits for Steve to pull away, to decide that this thing is one thing too far, but it never happens. Steve lets him escalate, and gives as good as he gets.

They’re both breathless and flushed and Billy’s riding high on the bubbling warmth in his chest, lightheaded from it. He slides his leg over Steve’s, straddling his thigh, pressing down, seeking friction.

He shifts, rocking forward a little, and Steve moans, low and deep right in Billy’s ear.

They both freeze. Steve’s breath coming in ragged little bursts against the side of Billy’s face.

“Pretty boy, as much as I’d love to hear more of that, no one else in the house does.”

“Jesus christ.”

“No need to bring him into it.”

“Shut up,” Steve laughs and buries his face in Billy’s shoulder. “Just give me a minute.”

“Aw, I get you all riled up, baby?”

Steve slides a hand down, down, and palms Billy’s cock, drawing a short gasp from him. “Yes.”

They stay entangled the rest of the night, dozing in and out of consciousness, Steve pressing the occasional sleepy kiss to Billy’s collarbone. And...Billy’s not sure what will happen after tonight, but he knows it’ll be easier to deal with if he gets to keep this. Whatever this is. He doesn’t have the heart to ask, not yet, but for the first time in a while, he has hope.

#steve harrington #harringrove #billy hargrove #stranger things #harringrove ficlet #harringrove fic #a raven's writing desk

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colorfullfalls · 4 years

Text

Me & You- part 2

Summary: Harry and Y/N have been dating for a few months when Michael invites them over for a small dinner party.

Chocolate cake, double decker, vanilla frosting with the words “Let’s be fucking happy” on top sat upon the large marble counter. Old friends leaned around it discussing memories and ideas, laughing often and smiling even more.

Shoes messily scattered Michael’s walk in room where his guests hastily discarded them- caring more about hugs than shoe placement. Coats were thrown over the bench beside the door, the top two close to toppling over on the floor. Michael and Crystal didn’t mind at the hint of a mess. In fact no one even really noticed, besides Y/N.

She bent over at the hip as she grabbed matching pairs of shoes and lined them up together neatly on the soft black rug. She hummed in satisfaction when the last pair was set in place. Her eyes caught sight of the coats and she moved to fix those into place too.

Truth was, she didn’t give a damn about the messiness of Mike’s house. Well she did, but that wasn’t what her issue was. Calum brought Maya to this stupid get together and she didn’t want to be around them just yet.

Over the months Calum and Y/N got back into the groove they experienced most of their lives, but this time without the romantic agony of pinning after the other helplessly at opposite intervals. The pair was good, but Y/N still didn’t really know Maya. Truth was she was too embarrassed after how Maya first saw her talk to Calum. That was the first impression and it was a rotten one.

Maya seemed nice and of course there wasn’t bad blood, but Y/N still felt like an outsider as she moved to organize the coats better. Maya and Calum came to these dinner parties in the months that Y/N was leaning on Harry for support.

The boys still invited Y/N to get together the whole time but she took the time away that she felt she needed to properly move on. And she loved the boys but the time away allowed her to heal and create a wonderful bond with Harry.

“Having fun down there?”

Y/N sheepishly set the coats down and craned her head upwards to look at the person standing above her.

Luke.

Y/N awkwardly laughed, letting go of the coats and letting her hands fall lamely into her lap. She was caught trying to distance herself from the group.

“Y/N, why are you in here organizing our belongings when you could be in the kitchen having wine and a good ole time?” He joked, blue eyes offering true friendship, consideration, and kindness.

Luke was always so freaking kind, just a really good friend all around.

“I don’t fit in anymore.” She mumbled in embarrassment, “I feel like... I don’t know, I was away for so long that I lost my spot.”

Luke sighed as he struggled to navigate his lanky body to sit with his knees up to his chest on the floor across from her. His back rested against the wall comfortably.

“Y/N, you’re our sister: we love you and you’ll always be one of us.. are we doing something particular to make you feel like this?”

Y/N shrugged, playing with the fray string on her favorite black and gray sweater. A sweater that Harry bought her the other day when she said she needed one. She kept slipping money in his wallet for it but he always caught her and demanded she take it back. Truth was, Harry spoiled her rotten.

“Not specifically. It’s not even your fault. I just feel like you guys have a groove now and I’m messing it up. It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly at all.” Luke’s hand grasped onto her knee and gave a comforting squeeze, “I’m glad you came tonight. We’re glad.”

Y/N smiled, nodding her head. “Okay.”

“Let’s go back into the kitchen.” He helped her stand and together they walked back to the kitchen.

Michael was laughing as he leaned over the counter, Crystal was rubbing his back lovingly as she giggled along with him. Calum was sitting on a barstool with Maya leaning against his left side, her arm wrapped around his neck, playing with the little tuffs of hair. Ashton and Kaykay were painting digging around in the fridge. Sierra turned when she heard the pair walk in and a charming smile graced her lips.

“There you are.” Sierra said, announcing the new entry into the kitchen.

Y/N blushed as she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall across from the counter, “I was organizing the shoes...”

Luke laughed, “Yeah she was, and the coats. Little nerd.” He pushed her and she fell into the wall. She smiled slightly as she pushed away his hands.

“We thought maybe Harry finally showed up.” Ashton said, turning from the fridge with a can of Pepsi in his hands. Kaykay grabbed the can from him and opened it, taking a sip and grinning.

“Nope, he should be here soon though. He was working out a song with Sarah.” Y/N explained, shuffling over to stand between Sierra and Crystal.

Crystal patted Y/N back as she walked over. The girls were really kind and understanding through out her trying to get over Calum. They would always invite her to girls nights and would call her regularly to check in and to distract her from the heart break. And they were her biggest supporters when they discovered that Harry and her were an item.

“Sarahs the drummer, right?” Cal asked, looking right into her eyes.

“Yeah, she’s an amazing drummer. And an even cooler person.”

“She seems so. One time I visited for a show and the guards wouldn’t let me backstage and she recognized me. Took me with her. She’s super nice.” Michael recalled the memory.

“Ha, me at your shows. One time the guard called me a groupie and wouldn’t let me in for the first half of your show until the members of Hey Violet realized I was missing. That was some bullshit.. but going back to Sarah, she’s honestly the best.”

“Oi, you can date her then.”

Harry stood in the doorway, two bottles of wine resting comfortable in his hands. His smug grin made him all the more attractive as he gazed into his girlfriends eyes.

Y/N felt the weight of the world fall off her shoulders as she took him in. He was so fucking beautiful. His jeans and gray hoodie looked casual and so domestic. She wanted to curl into him and explain that he made her feel more herself than when she was with anyone.

“Bout time you showed up with that wine.” Crystal said, moving around everyone to grab the two bottles as Mike grabbed the glasses from the top shelf.

Harry walked behind Y/N and slid his arms over her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead and leaning his chin against her head. Her nose took in the natural smell of Harry, closing her eyes momentarily to let it settle the nerves.

“How’d it go at the studio?” She quietly muttered, leaning slightly against his tattooed arms. The very arms that were almost like home.

“Swell. We got most of the music written, I think you’d love the feel of it. Sarah made sure the rhythm was sturdy and it ties it all together.” He explained, nodding a thank you at Crystal as he bent over Y/N to grab her and him a glass of wine.

“That’s great, Har. I wish you’d let me hear it..” Y/N grabbed the glass and took a sip.

Harry snorted, taking a sip as well, “You will. When it’s finished, dork. Already told ya that.”

“Mi mi mi mi mi” she mocked, elbowing him lightly in the ribs, “all I hear when you talk.”

Maya burst into laughter, wine falling down her chin- hand coming up to cup it from falling on the floor. Calum smiled in confusion as she grabbed her a napkin.

“Y/N, you kill me. Your sass is unmatched.” She said, wiping her mess up. Maya smiled towards her and Y/N felt herself shooting one back.

“Yeah, it’s bloody endearing until it’s aimed at you.” Y/N knew Harry was bluffing because he was in love with everything about her. She knew this because he only told her every day.

“Imagine how we feel.” Ash deadpanned.

“You should feel lucky that you got to know me all of these years, and especially since I put up with your boyish bullshit for years while on tour. A moment of peace never existed.”

Ashton blushed, crossing his arms, “Yeah, yeah. Rub it in some more that you took care of us like a mom.”

“I’d say so. You guys would crawl in my bunk when you were home sick.” Y/N said, finishing her wine in one big gulp, “play with my hair, Y/N. Rub my back, Y/N. Talk about home, please, Y/N/N.”

“Wow, thanks for fucking exposing our manly composures in front of our women!” Michael yelled, throwing someone’s IPhone charger at her.

Harry’s reflexes must’ve kicked in because his hand grasped the thick cord before it could come in contact with his lover’s face. She hummed in appreciation, slipping her hand under his sweater and rubbing her thumb over his arm.

“Babe, we are well aware that you guys are softies. She didn’t expose shit. I’m sure she could if you really wanted her to-“

Before Crystal could finish all the boys were quickly shouting out no. Y/N knew the darkest dirtiest, most horridly embarrassing moments of them and they rather not share those right now.

“What’s with the cake?” Harry asked as he set his wine glass down and moved away from Y/N to get a better look at it. He chuckled in amusement as he read the lettering upon the creamy frosting.

“A lot is happening in our lives, and I figured we could just take a night to celebrate our success, happiness, friendship, and creativity. You’re all beautiful and deep souls that I’m glad to have the pleasure of knowing.” Sierra said, wrapping her arms around one of Luke’s.

Sierra’s words were genuine and Y/N felt emotional. She was dumb to think that she wasn’t loved anymore by her friend group. They were good, loyal people that saw her heart and adored her as she was. Awkward tension between her and Cal for a few months wouldn’t ruin the unconditional bond. She felt guilty for pushing herself back in the first place. It wasn’t fair to the group and especially not Calum and Maya.

Y/N should’ve been honest about her feelings. Calum deserved to have known and instead it blew up in her face. She was attempting to shelter herself but her lack of actions was really what wounded her.

Shit worked in crazy way. First heartbreak and then a euphoric relationship with Harry motherfucking Styles? Y/N knew things worked out in the way it was meant to. And she felt bad that so much time was wasted when she could’ve gotten to still see Calum and created a friendship with Maya.

Y/N’s eyes wandered to Calum’s as cheering of concurrent glee filled the kitchen. His brown eyes held the upmost love as his lips quirked into a small smile. He made a kissy face and she let out a content sigh.

Kissy face was their signal of saying “I love you, you’re my best friend.”

It was created when they first started touring and they were embarrassed to say it in front of the boys. The action was used at the most important times when sometimes the words wouldn’t mean as much as the mere gesture.

Y/N made a kissy face back, feeling her lips tremble a bit from trying not to cry from the emotions of relief and joy flood through her veins.

“Cut this bitch up! I wanna slice. The one on that corner? Fuck yeah. Dibs.” Ash said, poking his finger in it to seal the spoken claim.

Calum laughed, dropping his head into his hand. Y/N playfully rolled her eyes at the duo. Ashton could blink and Calum would find it hilarious. The two men shared a beautiful companionship. Y/N knew that she was calums best friend, but after her was Ashton followed closely by Roy, Luke, and Mike tied.

“Nasty.” Harry teased, “you gonna have some?” He asked the woman trapped again in his loving embrace.

“Yep, are you?”

Harry snorted, “My love, you underestimate me. Fuck, it looks so good, but not as good as you do all the time.”

He grinned when she rolled her eyes, “Shut the fuck up and get your cake.”

A few hours later and the group switched to hangout in the living room. Board games were brought out along with wii games. Harry, Crystal, Luke and Sierra played Mario cart while Maya, Michael, Ash and Kay Kay played Sorry. Y/N and Calum watched in amusement.

Harry cursed at Luke as he got hit with a banana peel, “Fucking hell, Hemings.”

Calum shifted so that he could pull the cigarette pack from his pocket along with his beloved blue lighter. His eyes glanced to the balcony before he nudged the woman beside him.

“Y/N, wanna join me for a smoke?”

She knew what he meant. Not for her to actually smoke, but to talk alone for a few minutes while everyone was busy.

She nodded.

Y/N figured it would be chilly so she grabbed her jacket- well it was Harry’s that she loved to wear. Together they made their way onto the balcony of Michael’s house. She wrapped the material of her boyfriends coat close to her, slipping her hands into the pockets.

“Glad you came?” Cal asked, flicking his lighter three times before the flame stayed. The cigarette caught the light and he brought it to his plump lips.

“Yeah. Feels right to be back with you all... I’m so sorry that I hid from you guys. So fucking childish of me.”

Calum shook his head, “No, no don’t even apologize, bub. None of us blame you. And to be honest it’s partly my fault.”

Y/N scoffed, hands gripping the railing to ground herself, “It’s not.”

They sat in silence, not wanting to upset each other and start a fight that was pointless. Calum flicked ashes over the railing, his other hand not holding his cig was running through his hair.

Y/N crossed her arms, pulling the hood up over her head to cover her ears. Soft material swallowed her whole, providing a safety blanket.

“You and Harry- you just fit. I’ve never seen you act like that anyone. It was obvious that you felt sorta awkward but the second he walked in, you were back to being our Y/N.” Cal spoke, taking a hit.

Y/N shrugged, “I dunno; he’s like my comfort person now. Probably because it was just the two of us for so long. But I’m content with him.” Her eyes drifted to gaze in at the window. His brown curls could slightly be seen from the bulk of the couch.

“You love him?”

Y/N blinked in surprise, “I do love him. He’s...”

Calum chuckled at her lack of words, “Difficult to describe the intense feeling into lousy English words, huh?”

She blushed but meekly nodded, “Something like that. I imagine you know the feeling?”

Calum put out his cigarette and pulled his jacket closer to him, “Yeah. I’m not talking about Maya here though. Well, not yet. Im falling in love with her, but Y/N you’re my absolute favorite person in the world. You’re my family in ever sense of the meaning. Words can’t explain how sorry I am that I didn’t realize how you felt and that I hurt you.”

She stood up and pulled her best friend into a hug. His arms dangled around her torso as she shoved her head into his chest, taking in the familiar smoke smell.

“Maya seems super authentic Cal, and she’s like.. hot.” Y/N paused when she felt his body shake against hers from laughing, “I should’ve talked to you about it instead of getting angry. You deserve to be happy.”

“Promise I’ll be the maid of honor at your wedding?”

Y/N giggled, swaying them side to side as her cold hands went under the shirt of his back to warm them up. He jumped at the touch. She grinned at his reaction because she’s done it to him since they were little kids.

“Only if I’m your best man?”

Cal hummed, “Hell yeah, wouldn’t want anyone else.”

She nodded while elbowing him gently in the side, “good. It’s settled then.”

Y/N heard yelling inside and the two turned to see that Harry was dancing around Michael’s living room. His arms flared around in the air as he moved his body side to side. She knew that dance. It was a victory dance. The same one he would do when she agreed to wake up with him to watch the sunrise or when he would get all of pieces in home while playing sorry before her.

Harry turned around and cheekily smiled at her as he pointed at the tv and then himself and gave a joyful fist pump. She gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up in response.

“We better head back in.” She said, grabbing Calum’s arm and leading him inside.

“Love, I just kicked their asses!” Harry yelled, hitting Michael with a pillow. Harry cackled when Michael quickly plucked the pillow from him and threw it back with more force.

“You’re a goofball.” She said, crossing her arms.

Couple hours later everyone warmly hugged their goodbyes, slipped on coats and hats, and they walked out of Michael Cliffords house towards their own. Harry and Y/N were the last ones due to her being adamant on helping Crystal clean up. Harry and Michael had talked about FIFA as they attempted to help too but were more so in the way. The girls appreciated the gesture though.

Harry kissed Y/N a couple times instead of letting her get in her own car. Her muffled words kept getting shut off by his lips meeting hers.

“It’s almost like we have a house that we could make out in instead of my friend’s driveway, Har.” She said, pushing his face away with her hand like she did the first time he kissed her outside the poetry shop.

“Have to drive there first, hun. Takes too long.” He whined, his hands pulling her closer to his chest as his lips dragged across her neck, “What did Cal have to say on the balcony?”

She snorted as he nosed along her jawline, peppering kisses and moving his leg to rest in between hers. She ran her fingers along his arm until she intertwined her fingers with his.

He was jealous.

Harry would always ask her how it went when she met up with Calum. Y/N wasn’t dumb, Harry was scared that her feelings for her old best friend would randomly punch her in the face. Harry was hurt before and she understood that he was just scared of getting hurt again.

Especially since he has been in love with her since he was freshly eighteen years old.

“Just that he was glad that I came. Heart to heart about being best friends. I promised him he could be in our wedding if I was in his.” She said, halting Harry’s kissed against her skin.

His head snapped up so that his green eyes looked into her, “Our wedding?”

She nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

“If we’re in this for life, I’d figure it would happen sooner or later. I don’t know if I wanna wear a traditional white dress with you in a boring tux. I think our style is too spectacular for that normal shit. You look so good in vibrant colors, Har.” She whispered, squeezing his hand.

He seemed in a daze as he listened, nodding frequently in agreement, “You’d look amazing in anything as long as you’re walking towards me to meet me at the altar.”

“Yeah, you think?”

Harry laughed, “Yeah, I do.”

“I’ll marry you as soon as you show me that damn song. It’s driving me crazy, dude.” She said, pushing him away when he went in for another kiss that would turn into ten.

Harry was a lovey, touchy feely man, but she loved it. She loved him.

“You ruined one of the best moments of my life by calling me dude. Seriously, you’re killing me here. Cruel woman, you are.”

She shrugged, “I have my ways.”

“Go home!” Michael yelled out the window, making them separate quickly. Harry flipped him off before opening Y/N’s door and helping her in.

“I’ll see you at home, wife.”

Y/N cackled when Harry gently shut her door and saw him hurriedly got into his. She knew that tonight would be spent in each other’s arms with how absolutely thrilled he was to hear that she thought about their wedding.

She turned her car on and thanked Mother Nature for working her mysterious ways to make her life fit into place so perfectly.

#Harry styles imagine #5sos #harry styles #Harry styles fluff

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chayacat · 3 years

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (21)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

Fear. Fear is something that has always been part of the human being. It's something that follows us everywhere and it's always the first thing you feel about the unknown. What will happen to me today, tomorrow or in the days, weeks, months to come? What future is for me? How long am I going to live? Will I find love? Is it the good one or the bad one, will it last or not? Should I do it or not? Should I say it or shut up... All these questions that we ask ourselves throughout our lives always plunges us into fear. Because we don't know what our choices will bring as consequences. The famous butterfly effect.

Fear also manifests itself in dangerous situations, where death can strike at any moment, and when it is about to strike us, fear invades us. Moreover, it is the greatest fear of Man: to die. But some are not afraid of Death: it is even a friend who comes to relieve us of our suffering once and for all. And others believe that death is a simple passage from one life to another through time. Maybe it’s true, maybe it's wrong. Who can really know?

It was with this fear in your stomach that you woke up this morning. The cause? A simple, insignificant, small, piece of paper. How can a single piece of paper scare someone; you'll tell me... Maybe because it's not that insignificant. In fact, it's not the paper that scares you, it's what's written ON IT that scares you.

“He’s dead.”

Those simple words made you react. These simple words frighten you. Because you know who wrote them, and who he's talking about. He did it. He really did. He has told you for a long time that he will. Yet inside, you feel relieved to know that McKellan won't be able to do anything to you, but that means you'll have to thank Ghostface. Once again. And if it happens like last time... You'd rather not think about it. Because the worst thing for you is that you liked it, deep down. But Jed's here now. And you know nothing can happen to you now. Right? My poor little girl... if you knew the truth... you left the door open. And the big bad wolf came home. Without knowing it, you’ve thrown yourself into the devil's arms.

While you were about to serve yourself a coffee, in order to chase away your dark ideas, someone knocked on the door. You put down your cup and you walk to the door. When you open it, you come face to face with Jed. But a Jed... quite different from usual. His Auburn hair was loose, wavy and cascading, he always wore his glasses, but his outfit was very different, a black t-shirt under an open denim shirt, grey jeans and black sneakers. But this face... and that angelic smile. It's something that will never change in him.

“Well... What happened to the real Jed last night? Have you been hit by the change fairy?” You said laughing.

“You can see it that way, yes. I thought you'd like it if... if I changed my look a little bit.” He responds laughing too.

“Just a little? I feel like you were kidnapped last night to change you or replace you with another. But... I don't mind. Because no matter what you look like... I know you'll always be you.”

You kissed him and he kiss you back, holding you in his arms. It was soft, smooth as always, a feeling that you never want to forget. Never. But Ghostface’s words brought you back to mind and made you tremble slightly. Certainly, Jed is the only one who agrees to write articles about him and that make him the "star" of Roseville. But knowing this sick man... He's capable of anything. Jed felt your concern, put an end to your kiss and recoiled his face to better observe you, passing his hand over your face to reassure you.

“Hey... What's wrong? You... Have you changed your mind?” He asks, worried.

“No! Of course not! I love you, it’s just that... He... he killed him.” you said, looking elsewhere.

“What? Who kills who?”

“Ghostface. He killed McKellan. He left me that note last night. I know it's him and it's McKellan he's talking about. He told me for a long time that he would do it... I should have told you about it or called the police or...”

“Hey hey hey... Calm down. It's going to be alright, okay? Imagine if you'd told the police about this. He would have killed you. Or torture or worse. We don't know what this psycho can do. You saved your life in some way.

“I know. But I can't help but feel guilty, the cops must know that I had a conflict with him. When they find out his body... they will come to see me and I am afraid... I'm afraid of what's going to happen.” you replied with tears in your eyes.

“Hey, I am here. And as long as I'm here no one will come near you and hurt you. I lost Carla, there's no way I'm going to lose you, is that clear? Our relationship has just begun and I intend to do everything I can this time to make it last for the rest of my life.” He said holding you close to him.

You both stand still for a few minutes without saying anything, enjoying the present moment. Nothing could ruin this moment. But one thing for you remains worrisome: the fact that you had a conflict with McKellan could put you on the suspect list. Even if Ghostface is the author, you may have problems. Maybe...

Maybe he did it on purpose? It's possible after all! Since you've known each other, he's been trying to push you to kill. He wanted to make you, his accomplice. And if, despite your categorical and repeated refusal to do so, he had taken the initiative? To drag you with him into the spiral of his massacres... And his madness.

“You don't have to worry, knowing Ghostface, he must have left a signature. He doesn't really have the kind to attribute the murder to someone else. So, there is no risk that the police will come to question you.” Replied Jed, backwards to better look at you: “I'm not working today, but I have to finish my article. I'm going to stay with you at the café, okay? And... If you ever need a helping hand, I could help you. Is that okay with you?”

“Say that way you can taste my cakes in secret .... You're going to end up with a nice round belly one day. But if you have to help me, you can bring the cakes for your colleagues. Let's go a little glutton. I'm going to end up being late.” You said, taking two boxes with cakes inside for the newspaper.

Jed smiles before kissing you and open the door. What a gentleman. All both, you're heading to Jed's van to get to work. The streets were quiet on this beautiful day and the cold weather of the last few days had disappeared. We will have to provide air conditioning otherwise the customers will melt ... and the cakes too. You were always worried about this paper but reassured by Jed's words. He is right, so far Ghostface has always signed his crimes. So, there is no reason to worry. Absolutely none. right?

“By the way, Melina... Melina told me for... You know, your family. It's really generous, you know. You... You could have kept it all to yourself. And you give up almost everything to your family. I'm sure your parents are proud of you up there.” Said Jed, breathing deeply without leave the road with your eyes.

“When...When my parents died, my uncles and aunts took care of me... I was in an emotional state... Deplorable. Even so, they've always been there for me. I owe them a lot. So, I think it's normal for me that some part of the inheritance goes back to them.” you respond looking at the road then at him.

“What are you going to do with... Your share?”

“Keep it. As much as I could. I will try to live as much as possible with the coffee money. And then maybe one day I would live in a nice little country house, far from everything. With the sound of birds and the singing of the rooster to wake me up. Or I'll take a trip around the world. I've always dreamed of going to Norway or Sweden... These countries are beautiful...”

Jed smiles while parking in the newspaper’s parking lot. It's best not to get fined. And since you have cakes to deliver... You might as well give them in your own hand, don't you? And so, you can see the newspaper's premises. No sooner do you enter the building than you freeze on the spot. Who would have thought that a small newspaper like the Roseville Gazette could have so many people? And to think that Jed is one of them! There are even security guards! It's impressive! You give them the boxes and tell them to be careful that no cakes end up crushed. Then all two go back and open the café. It's time. Jed settled down at the table next to the counter. The start of the day went very well, customers were always flocking as delighted to come to see you. The lunch break came and you sit at Jed's table, slightly exhausted.

“Maybe you should hire someone to help you. You're going to get sick by putting so much pressure on yourself.” Said Jed smiling.

“I thought about it... but not yet. I want to be financially sure I can pay a salary. Are you getting away with your article?” you ask.

“Yes. Mike was such a rotten man. A drug dealer and a pedophile on top of the market. Apparently, he was wanted in other states for these facts. But he always managed to evade the police. Unfortunately for him he did not escape death. Even my boss is disgusted to know that he had such a criminal in his employees.” He answers.

“No one could have known... There are true masters of concealment. We think they're honest people and then one day they reveal their real faces. And on that day, it's already too late to do anything.” You replied sadly.

“That’s true. You know, I've been very concerned about how Ghostface works... Since I've been writing these articles, I've noticed two or three little things about how he operates. He went after people who... always do something wrong. Since he started these murders... all of his victims either committed robberies, assaults, or trafficked drugs.”

“It’s to believe that he wants to pretend to be a hero.”

“Or he gets rid of the competition. This guy's a narcissist. He doesn't seem to like being robbed of the limelight. If he gets rid of those who want to steal the show... Then he'll be the only criminal in all of Roseville and I'm sure he's not going to stop there. He'll go all over the country.” Said Jed, replacing his glasses on his nose.

“He wants to be the biggest criminal in the whole country. The question is... Why?” you said confused.

The break ends and you get back to work quickly. Jed is right about one thing: one day you will have to hire someone. You won't be able to hold the coffee forever on your own, and if you're ever thinking about expanding it, you'll need employees. During the afternoon, you receive a phone call from the police that made you panic. Have they found McKellan’s body? Do they already want to question you??

None of that. The policeman on the other end of the line simply summons you to have your statement in relation to your attacker. You almost forgot that one. You say that you would be available tomorrow during the day because you’re not working. To which he replied that everything was written down and that he would be waiting for you tomorrow in his office. You sigh with relief when you hang up the phone before explaining everything to Jed, who laughs slightly shaking his head.

The rest of the afternoon went very well, and the time of closing arrived. After your usual little ritual, you and Jed go to eat something. For the first time a good burger and fries will be your meal tonight. After that, you head to your home. You greet Mr. Lawson, and go up to your apartments. But instead of leaving you, Jed kissed you while making you enter his house.

“What are you doing?” You said laughing.

“I don't want to sleep alone tonight. So, I'm kidnapping you.” He said before kissing you again, lifting you by the waist, making you let go of a little squeak of surprise.

“Well, what a force...”

“And you haven't seen anything yet.” He replied, heading to his bedroom.

He laid you down on his bed gently before putting himself above you. He removed his t-shirt, revealing his finely trimmed body, and with his wavy, cascading hair... he looks like a god. He kissed you again, began to slide his hands over your body, making you shudder slightly. But this time, it's a shudder of pleasure. He kissed every part of your body from head to stomach, then gently removed your top. He pushed his hair with a wave of his hand, revealing blue eyes piercing to fall out.

“It's... Maybe it's a little too soon. You may need a little time.” He said with a little smile.

“I... I’m sorry, I didn't want to...” you said worried by his reaction.

“It’s okay. I'll wait until you're ready. But on the other hand, that day ... I can't guarantee I'll control myself.”

“I can't wait to see that then.” you replied by getting up before being lying down again by Jed.

“I said I didn't want to sleep alone tonight.”

“I don't even have pyjamas for tonight!” you said laughing.

“Never mind... I'll lend you one.”

He put on a quick kiss before getting up and throwing a pyjama at you to change you. He undressed, wearing only his boxer before bed. Once changed, you join him in bed and you settle in his arms, passing your hand in his hair. You kiss one last time to wish you good night and fall asleep both. In his arms, all your fears fly away. All your worries disappear.

Nothing can happen to you.

Nothing scares you.

Not even Ghostface.

***

(I'm officially passing my code exam on April 9th! I can't wait! and I'm a little scared too XD But I've got a week to review so I should be fine! So, since we are confined for a month in France, the chapters will come out as planned, since I no longer go on vacation ... I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the others! Good weekend to all! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

Text

And he said, I hope you know how to swim

A/N: this is for the gift exchange from @itfandomprompts! My giftee is @iheartthoreau who asked for shy skinny dipping lovers and jealous Eddie. I’m sorry it’s out so late, I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Summary: The Derry midnight breeze is freezing, Eddie notes, still dressed in a shirt and pants and dreading having to get rid of them. He’s bare foot now, standing on top of the quarry and peering down into the glinting lake. Next to him, also bare foot, Richie looks over his shoulder, and laughs, bright and innocent.

warnings: skinny dipping, mentioned of nudity (but nothing graphic)

read on a3o

The atmosphere of six best friends who’ve just moved past the worst stages in their life cackles in Eddie’s brain.

He’s buzzed up, energized beyond all logic by the laughter and loving gestures so carelessly tossed around in their group. Pennywise is dead, and with it the looming threat following each of them around and the teasing unhappiness hinting at what they were missing but not giving any clues as to what.

It’s all over now, and a road full of new opportunities lays ahead of them. Everyone is acting loose, ecstatic with the weight that fell off their shoulders. Eddie’s feeling a tad guilty too, for calling Myra and informing her that way about their upcoming divorce that he’s going to set in motion as soon as he’s had a good night sleep, but he felt so brave after surviving a literal killer clown, that he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

A part of him was also frightful that he’d lose his courage, between now and getting home, that he’d look around his house and accept that this was all he was destined for, a mediocre life with a wife he didn’t love and a job that sucked the joy out of all employees. Myra deserved better though, and that’s why Eddie’s guilty eyeing his phone, debating on calling her back. He won’t take back what he said, because he’s relieved to have put it out in the open, but he’s unsure if he should have been more empathetic towards her feelings in all of this. If he should have ended the call after telling her to take care.

Bev notices his wandering eyes from where she seated beside him on the couch, the woman still laughing a stitch, shifting forward and hiding his phone in between seat cushions. Out of sight out of mind so to speak.

‘We’ve got time to worry about it tomorrow Eddie.’ She says, and she’s right. Tomorrow both him and Bev will have to deal with the intricacies of divorce and separating a company and a home. Tonight is reserved for the losers only.

‘Yeah Eds, and here I was assuming that after twenty years we’d have some stuff to catch up on.’

Richie regards him from the floor, legs tossed up upon the couch with his body upside down. His glasses are sliding off, but he’s lazy to fix them, so he looks like even more of a goofball than normal. If Eddie could, if he didn’t feel like his intentions would be even more noticeable if he did, he’d scoot over to Richie, adjusting his glasses and letting his fingers trail his cheek and bask in the skin to skin contact.

‘You never did anything interesting before we went to college, what makes you think you’ve done something interesting after?’ Eddie’s tongue is sharp, a façade he builds to stop speculation about his feelings towards Richie, though the truth is that he is intrigued and he craves to know every small detail about his life outside of Derry.

‘No you guys are not starting this again. I’m sick of your bickering,’ Bill interjects, rolling his eyes at the pair.

‘I reject that big Bill, we’re hilarious, you can’t be sick of us bickering when you haven’t had the pleasure of hearing it for the last twenty years. Michael, back me up here buddy.’

‘Sorry Rich, I’m not getting involved in the slightest.’

‘Yeah guys come on, can’t we have one quiet night in?’

‘What so Eddie can just call me boring and I’m supposed to let it slide? Me? I’m the fireworks on the Fourth of July, the highest roller coaster in the park and the whipped cream on strawberries, but I am not boring.’ Richie changes positions, almost accidentally knocking over his beer bottle. He theatrically waves his arms back and forth, trying to animate his words and add conviction.

‘Okay, okay you’re not boring, but don’t overrate yourself either. The most adventurous thing you ever did in high school was skip a class to read a comic book in the school’s bathroom. Not exactly daredevil behavior.’

Bev sips from her whiskey, winking at Richie whose face turns beet red for a reason Eddie can’t decipher. It’s not until Bev conspicuously blows out a gust of air with her lips puckered that Eddie connects the dots.

‘Didn’t you say you ditched because you were smoking with Beverly? Dude did you fucking lie about that? I was worried you’d die and get cancer ever since that day you piece of shit.’

‘No I definitely did smoke. I swear.’

‘You’re not kidding anyone Rich, I vouched for you all those years ago, but I’m not doing it again. Little Richie was a comic book nerd who just pretended to be really cool. We never ever smoked together.’

The losers all holler, clapping their hands together and cheering on the exposure of their foulmouthed friend, debunking all the story Richie apparently made up where he and Be had to sneak out at night to smoke inconspicuously, with the exception of Eddie and Richie. Eddie, because he’s busy glaring at Richie and Richie because he’s busy tapping Bill’s hand away, teasingly disheveling his hair.

Eddie wishes he was brave enough to give these little affections to his friend, especially after witnessing how soothed Richie got when Eddie hugged him after Neibolt, when he had dropped his face into the nape of Eddie’s neck and stayed there, swaying on his feet of exhaustion. It would only make him a good friend, a best friend, but Eddie is still so damn afraid.

He might have had the power to separate from his wife and kill an abstract form of his deepest fears, but Bowers angry yelled words, such as fairy and faggot, swung to his head any time he and Richie graveted closer while walking, haunt him even now.

Touching is off limits the words tell him, so he shows affection the only way he’s ever known towards Richie, by bickering and pulling pigtails.

‘I should have expected that.’ Eddie nods vehemently, laughing as Richie’s mouth drops open in a shocked manner.

‘Are you kidding me? Eddie Spaghetti is the one telling me I’m a loser?’

Eddie flips him off, ignoring Mike’s whispered; ‘he’s got a point’, in favor of levitating his full attention on Richie. The giggling in the room elevates an octave higher.

‘You all laugh’, Richie addresses the entire group, ‘but was I not the one who came up with the idea for the list?’

Abruptly, all sounds snap off, as everyone is snapped back to the past. Even Richie is, at face value, confused about the word he spoke, until the concept and creation of the list is brought to the forefront of everyone’s mind.

‘Holy shit.’

‘Oh my god Mike please tell me you still have it.’

Mike shakes his head with a far-off look. ‘Sorry guys, I don’t know who had it last but I never found it again.’ He’s saddened by it, like he did them all an injustice by not holding on to a flimsy piece of paper.

The List, capital L, was nothing more but a checklist, composed with all the fun and dangerous things the losers all had hopes of doing after graduating high school. Eddie remembers now, the hushed laughter and uncompromisable joy that came with the simple idea of these things, how everyone pitched in and added dare after dare while him and Stan exchanged glances and hoped to god that some things would never be executed.

‘That’s okay Mike, I’m just happy we can all remember making it.’ Ben smiles reassuringly Mike’s way, who smiles back and takes a deep breath.

‘Wait, I think I can recall some of the things we wrote on there. Hold on’, Bev squeezes her eyes shut and snaps her finger in the hope it will get to her faster. ‘Oh’, she exclaims, startling Bill who chokes on his own saliva, ‘we were going to visit Europe, do a high rope parkour, rock climb and some other things I can’t remember right now.’

‘Didn’t we also agree to volunteer in a hospital and go camping in the national forest?’ Ben asks, awaiting confirmation.

‘Yeah we did, Stan was throwing a fit over going camping because of the environment and the dirt, but we were well on our way to convince him.’

‘Wow,’ Richie breathes, chest puffing up and head dropping back into the couch so his face isn’t visible to the rest. ‘I forgot all about that, but come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I did most of those things with Bryan.’

And who the fuck is Bryan? Certainly not Eddie, sweating in fear from the things that were being listed, searching for the most extreme dares he’d seen happen on tv to suggest, doing anything he could to impress Richie. Eddie was terrified of most of the activities on the list, like Bev’s idea to waterski in the ocean, or Mike’s zip lining idea, but he would have done them if it meant he could bask in Richie’s attention, impress Richie to rid himself of scared baby Eddie was so sure he must have been in Richie’s eyes. So who the hell was this Bryan stealing his thunder like that?

‘Who’s Bryan?’ Bev inquires with a smirk, winking at Richie blush ridden face. Eddie’s jealousy rears its ugly head, flaring up and making his head woozy. He simultaneously both considers choking Bev and thanking her for the question.

With Richie’s secret fresh on his mind, the way he’d so shamefully admitted that he was gay and they were the first people he’d ever found the courage to tell, Eddie wondered if Bryan was perhaps someone Richie had been romantically involved with.

Richie would have deserved it, Eddie argues in his mind, to at least for a short period of time have someone love him back as fiercely as he dons it out, but Eddie’s also furious that he stole Richie out from under his nose.

Which is illogical, because even if he and Richie had managed to stay in touch, and Eddie confessed – not much chance there, as Eddie didn’t even tell anyone he was gay when Richie did - there was no guaranty that Richie would’ve reciprocated.

‘No one snoopy’, Richie argues with a jittery leg, ’just some guy I hung out with for a while.’

Bev appears unconvinced, but she’s also respectful towards Richie's decision to not say anything. ‘So which ones did you complete?’

‘I went to Europa senior year of college, smoked a bunch of weed, went zip lining. The normal kind of stuff.’

Zip-lining, or smoking weed for that matter, causes Eddie skin to crawl, not that he’d ever admit it. He hates that that’s not the case for Bryan.

‘Well thanks Rich, none of us ever did anything on the list without the other losers. I guess you didn’t miss us too much.’ It’s not fair, of course it’s not. He can tell by the eagerness to spend time together that Richie was very lonely, and experienced the same aching emptiness where his friends were supposed to be as the rest of them.

The bitter tone of Eddie's speech, and the way Richie’s eyes turn a little dimmer extinguishes the fire of Eddie’s envy. Richie deserves better than him in every way. An apology lies at the tip of his tongue, ready to jump into the open and hopefully aid the wounds before they’re fully developed.

Sensing the impending hurricane of trouble on the horizon Mike is eager to intervene, playing mediator for two forces that are about to collide. ‘Well I mean, we probably wouldn’t have gone through with most of them anyway.’

‘Speak for yourself’, Eddie waves him off, spiteful that Mike has a good point. He would have found a way to undermine their plans and make it so that he could back out without appearing like a meek lamb, for at least half of the activities. If he had known about Bryan’s existence though, he would have done anything. He feels ready now to do anything, to one up him and establish his spot as Richie’s number one.

‘Prove it,’ Bill dares with a lopsided smirk, certain he’s got Eddie beat. He sustains eye contact, reaching for the bag of chips on the table and gnawing on it with the most smug aura Eddie has ever witnessed him having.

‘I would’, Eddie defends fiercely, ‘but we can’t do any of the things in Derry.’

‘Sounds like a cop out to me.’

‘Yeah, sure Big Bill, because you can easily find a zip line here in Derry. The town that refused to spend money on renewing the library back in the eighties is no doubt going to have that installed by now.’

‘What about skinny dipping?’ Ben proposes innocently, having no idea the kind of strain he’s putting Eddie under.

‘That’s a great idea Ben, I forgot we put that one on the list.’ Beverly acknowledges despite Eddie’s frantic head shaking. The room temperature drops down and rises back up steadily, at least according to Eddie. He’s starting to sweat, something he never does and takes pride in – in the office he’s the level headed one, and that’s saying something – and he pulls at his collar to allow some air to ventilate.

Everything except that. A swim in a dirty lake that was most likely infected was a whole plate of different bacteria, and being naked in front of the man he’s in love with is not something Eddie is particularly fond of. He almost asks for a different thing to do, but that would truly be a cop out, and he both refuses to back down in front of Richie and give Bill the satisfaction of being right.

‘Good luck with that Eds, question before this all goes down, am I allowed to use this in my next bit?’

‘Actually,’ Bev interrupts, ‘I think you should join him too.’

‘Hey I wasn’t the one that said I’d be willing to do anything.’

‘No, but you were the one who added it on the list in the first place. C’mon Richie, It’ll be fun. For us, not for you guys, but we’ll get a good laugh out of it.’

Richie is hesitant, same as Eddie, readjusting his glasses again. Eddie is sure that if he says the word Richie will tell everyone to back down for him. He wouldn’t even make fun of Eddie for it, should Eddie give any indication that he wouldn’t want him too. He thinks back to Bryan, and how he wouldn’t have backed down for such a thing, and how in awe Richie must have been seeing the man abandon all safety precaution and go for it, Eddie’s mind is made up instantly.

‘Let’s do it.’ He says without leaving room for argument, nodding at Richie as he looks to him. He hopes Richie will go with it, but is also confident that of course he will. As kids they followed each other everywhere, and surely that hasn’t changed.

‘Really? I mean yeah – sure I guess. Bring it on.’

-----

The Derry midnight breeze is freezing, Eddie notes, still dressed in a shirt and pants and dreading having to get rid of them. He’s barefoot now, standing on top of the quarry and peering down into the glinting lake. Eddie’s jumping from one foot to the other, annoyed that dirt is clinging to his skin and branches are piercing his soles, even more aggravated at the idea of cleaning them in infection filled lake water. Bev better keep her end of the promise, and be waiting near the end of the lake with a pair of fresh pressed towels.

Next to him, also bare foot, Richie looks over his shoulder, and laughs, bright and innocent.

‘I forgot how high this was.’

It is high up, but they’ve done this jump at least a hundred times before, so Eddie’s not worried about the plunge. He’d assume Richie isn’t either, but the man keeps glances towards the path they took to get up here, uncharacteristically silent.

‘It’s okay if you're too scared to go through with it Eduardo, I won’t tell the others.’ Richie smirks when he notices Eddie’s glance, crossing his arms over his chest.

The movement makes his shoulders bulk, highlighting just how much bigger Richie is compared to Eddie. Eddie’s mouth waters, and he starts to worry about how he’s going to have to get through seeing Richie’s naked shoulders in the flesh.

‘Just get undressed will you? Hurry up.’

‘Why? Eager to see my bare ass?’

‘Yeah, because who doesn’t think jumping naked into a lake they frequented as kids is the epitome of sexiness? No you self-centered idiot, I want to get it over with so I can go back to the Inn and grab a warm shower.’

With one last peek, Eddie moves backwards, standing away from the ledge and begins to unbutton his shirt, before thinking better off it. Richie picks up on his hesitation, shifting backwards too and motioning his head towards the ridge.

‘Do you want me to show you how it’s done?’

‘No,’ Eddie objects, ‘I’ll go first.’

‘Why? I’m not going to stare at your junk while you're jumping in if that’s what you're worried about Eddie. I’m not that kind of gay.’ Rarely does Richie toss aside an opportunity to grant Eddie another humorous nickname, so the use of his real name spooks Eddie just enough that he opens his mouth to apologize without even realizing what he’s apologizing for.

Richie’s facial expression, set in a grimace and squinting his eyes defensively, are a dead give away that Eddie’s words are being taken the wrong way. If only Richie knew that Eddie wanted him to go in first so he could avoid the same temptation Richie thought he was forcing on him.

‘Richie no, that’s not what I meant I-.’ Heartfelt compliments are not something Eddie has had a lot of practice for these last few years, and he’s not doing a good job catching up on them either. Therefore he sighs and hopes that he can find another way to prove to Richie he’d never accuse him of something like that. ‘Whatever, just go first already.’

‘Fine but turn around okay?’

Eddie listens to him, back towards Richie and the jump off, though he doesn’t really understand the request. With Richie comes a lot of flair, and he was more or less been prepared for a joke about how Eddie got to confirm how big his dick is in reality.

He waits and listens carefully for the sounds of clothes being dropped on the ground, and he can’t stop his mind from secretly imagining how Richie looks like without them once he distinguishes it. Eddie shakes his head, scolding his own mind.

The next few moments are filled with raspy breaths originating from Richie, footstep sounding further away and then closer again in an erratic pattern. He must be scared of the jump. Under normal circumstances, Eddie would ask to jump in at the same time, but since Richie asked Eddie not to turn around, he won’t.

‘If you don’t jump in the next five minutes,’ Eddie teases, the way Richie used to tease him, ‘I’ll push you in.’ A second later Eddie hears Richie’s loud whooping as he plunges down into the dark water.

Eddie spins, the only thing greeting him the dark with very little light clearing up his path, from the moon. He’s having a hard time to even see where the cliff ends, and he can’t disguise Richie in the water at all.

‘I’m coming in’, he yells to the void, in case Richie can’t discern his body in time and needs to move out of the way. He takes off his clothes, goosebumps erupting on his skin, and folds his pants and t-shirt up neatly, touching the ground with his hands to find a dry spot to lay them on. The air is cold, and so Eddie refuses to linger on top any longer than he has to.

He jogs up to the ledge and darts off before his mind can conjure up the thousands of things that can go wrong from swimming in the dark this late at night. His body flies through the air and connects with the water in one swoop, a pit of glee bursting in Eddie’s stomach. Jumping from the quarry equals freedom, a hot summer day and love for all of his friends, but in particular Richie.

Eddie keeps his head underwater until his lungs burn, eyes closed and allowing himself to just feel all the sensations. Then, something tickles the back of his leg, and the peaceful moment is over. He kicks back the surface, away from the spot where he could swear something touched him, and searches around for Richie.

Richie, with his wet black hair clinging to his forehead, strands of it sticking out in every direction, and his droplet covered glasses, roving more of Eddie’s heart each minute they’re near each other. He’s never looked more beautiful, and Eddie has never had to fight the urge to kiss him as much as he does now.

‘See, I told you I wouldn’t stare Eds, I can’t even see anything with all these splatters on my glasses.’

The moon reflects on the water, so that it’s impenetrable, and neither Rich nor Eddie can look down and see their lower body parts.

What Eddie can see is enough anyway, Richie’s shoulders and part of his chest hold Eddie’s attention, and he forgets to respond to Richie’s comment.

His eyes land on a dark bruise, just on the bottom of Richie’s neck, a remnant of their fight with Pennywise earlier that day. Without thinking, without standing still on the consequences of such an action, Eddie swims closer, stretches his arm out, and lingers his fingertips over the bruise. He carefully positions his body to not touch any other body part of Richie’s except for his fingers on his neck.

He makes an inquisitive noise, thumb stroking over the injury in what he hopes to be a calming matter. He physically can’t pull away, entranced with the way he moves and responds to him, trying but failing to get his fill of Richie clenched.

‘Eddie’, Richie whispers, scared to break the silence and the intimate moment. ‘It’ll be fine. And hey, at least he didn’t do anything to my dick.’

‘Yeah, would have been a shame if it were to become even smaller.’

Richie snorts, retaliating the jest with a wave of dirty water aimed at Eddie.

Eddie gasps, spitting out a bit of water that managed to sneak into his mouth. ‘Oh you’re on.’

The two of them chase each other, and if it weren’t for the fact that they were both naked, Eddie would have thrown his entire body weight in the game to push Richie underwater. As it stands, they just splash back and forth until they’re exhausted and the remnants of their laughter dies out, barely enough energy left to stay afloat side by side.

‘Did you have this much fun with Bryan?’ Eddie asks, a bit envious. He hates how he’s still stuck on the Bryan thing, hates that his mind keeps popping images of them doing the exact same thing only to end it with a kiss.

‘What?’

‘With Bryan, the guy you did all that other stuff with?’

‘Oh no, me and Bryan – we were never together like that.’ Back at the hotel room, Eddie figured that that was a ploy to distract Bev, something Richie just said because he couldn’t comfortably admit the real intent of their relationship. But he’s never lied to Eddie, and his eyes, magnified by his glasses, seem so sincere, Eddie has no other option but to believe him. ‘I-I’m- some other guy already has that place all taken up.’

Eddie stupid, oblivious and dense and everything in between. He knows Richie isn’t talking about him, he knows he could never be the guy Richie would hold all hope out for – he also secretly hopes it’s none of the losers -, but he wants to be so bad. Just one time, just one kiss and he’d be sated enough to let go of his feral behavior towards any potential love interest Richie might have. Just one time.

‘Richie’, Eddie starts, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He’s taking a huge risk, by foreseeing a rejection but hoping that Richie won’t drop him as a friend because of this. If Eddie doesn’t do this, he’ll never stop wondering what it feels for their lips to meet. He’ll never get over Richie because he never got to experience any with him.

‘Can I kiss you?’ He risks releasing his lip.

Richie is visibly shocked. ‘What? What the fuck? Eddie is this a joke?’

The joke is, as usual, all on Eddie who regrets ever opening his mouth in the first place. He could try to laugh it off, say that it was a joke, but that would mean that he pretends to make a jest out of something Richie has struggled with for his entire life. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. Left with no other options but to further dig his own grave, Eddie decides to be honest. At least that means he gets to keep part of his integrity.

‘No Richie of course not, I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m sorry. Look I like you but it’s obviously one sided and I just wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you but it was a stupid request and I shouldn’t have asked you that. Oh god, I never even asked if you were dating someone –‘

‘Eds?’

‘- Fuck can we please forget I said anything so we can still hang out?’

‘Eddie?’

‘What?’

‘Yes. Please kiss me.’

Eddie gapes with his mouth open, struggling for breath and for words. He’s half convinced he misinterpreted the words, but his tilted head proves otherwise. Eddie doesn’t question it further, counting his lucky start for once, and leaning in to his emotions and Richie, breaching the water to get to him.

Their kiss is surprisingly gentle for the ungovernable lead up prior to it. Richie’s lips taste like lake water, but deeper underneath lies a tang of something distinctively Richie. Eddie can’t wait to devour him whole once he’s cleaned up. Their lips move together in tandem, a perfect harmony that for once neither are willing to break.

They pull back, Richie’s arms circling Eddie’s waist, and he smiles. His smile mixed with the love stricken gleam in his eyes, mysteriously tells Eddie that Richie feels the exact same way he does. His chest caves with happiness.

‘I like you too, if it wasn’t obvious. A lot more than Bryan.’

‘For the love of God can we never mention that again? It’s embarrassing. No, Hush’, Eddie says urgently, covering Richie’s mouth with his palm when he opens his mouth to conjure up another joke.

‘Fine,’ Richie says while pulling away from Eddie’s hand. ‘How about we talk about something else then? How the fuck are we supposed to get to our clothes?’

#my writing #reddie imagine #reddie fic #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #richie and eddie #adult losers #it chapter two imagine #eddie x richie

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