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jvblood · 2 years

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the delivery guy

pairing: argyle x afab reader

word count: 1.8k

summary: you wanted to give argyle a tip for delivering the pizza on time.

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ minor dni), blowjobs (M receiving), pwp, slight dom reader?? idk it was just a feeling really

a/n: someone messaged in the ask box for this, saw it 8 am started this at 11 am and it's currently 5 pm for me so. PRACTICE SAFE SEX, also this gif got me rolling

It was a Saturday night and your parents left you home alone. They were going to a concert where the audience was obviously 30 and up. They knew you could take care of yourself anyways, you’re 18 and college starts in a couple of months. Though, they did know you couldn’t cook, so they left about twenty dollars for food. You could really get anything you wanted delivered to you but you’re already settled on one thing right now.

You pick up the phone and start dialing Surfer Boy Pizza. You’ve seen the delivery boy around at school, considering he always had the company van with him. That in itself confirms that he would be delivering it to you. He was always nice to you when you guys had an encounter but tonight something stirred in your mind that wanted him more. You said your order through the phone and waited for the pie to come on its way.

The slogan for the pizza shop was something about getting here in 30 minutes or less. Well, let’s see how quickly you can put something on that’s a little bit promiscuous. You head to your room and try to doll yourself up a bit. But it’s just a guy, you don’t want to seem like you were prepared for this. A pair of simple sleep shorts and a tank top that was cut just right to give enough cleavage. Perfect. You finish the look by tying up your loose hair to expose more of your chest and wait.

____________________

They weren’t kidding when they said that it was 30 minutes or under. You were just about to watch a rerun of Family Ties when you heard the knock on the door. You jumped off the couch a bit too quickly than you’d like to admit and rushed for the door. You opened the door and saw the guy you were just hoping for. His long hair swayed as he was looking at the address, hoping he had the right address. Then he turns his focus to you. He was just staring for a bit while holding the pizza in his hands. You glanced to check his name tag: Argyle.

“Hey, “ Argyle stutters, “ it’ll be $6.98” You nod realizing that you do not have the money on you right now. You told him you’ll be right back to get it and leave the door open. Argyle watches you from behind staring very hard. He knew he was being a creep and honestly he could not stop. He wanted to know more about you but something flips in his own mind where he stops functioning.

You come back to the open door with the money in hand, exact change. Thinking hard about this on the couch, you knew you wanted to give him a tip. You hand him the money and take the pizza box. Argyle just stands there starstruck. He didn’t seem like leaving anytime soon, so why not try to give that tip now.

“Argyle, I was wondering if you’d like to get a tip?” You purr. You wanted him and something in the back of your head thinks that he wants you just as badly. He gulps and nods enthusiastically. You put the pizza in one hand while the other hand grabs his, guiding him to enter the house. Argyle closes the door behind him and stares at your figure walking towards the kitchen. Argyle awkwardly stands in the middle of the living room waiting for your return, not knowing what he’s supposed to do.

“Argyle,” you say as you make your way back to him “ I think I’m hungry for something else.” You’re hugging his arm at this point, your breasts tease him as he could feel you not wearing anything underneath the tank top. Argyle could feel his heart beating against his chest as you start to look up at him. His dick straining his pants with the thought of you. He couldn’t believe someone like you would go for a delivery guy like him.

“What do you mean, bro?” Argyle stammered. You prepared for the night's endeavor by leaving a condom on the living room table. Argyle was able to find it quickly and he could feel himself getting harder, twitching underneath his pants.

“Argyle, I want you.” You say as you slowly sink to your knees. Your eyes never left him as you went down. You bite your lips and look ahead of you with your face leveled to his cock.

“Do you want me?” You say leaving your hands in your lap. You refuse to touch him without hearing it come out his mouth first. He nods, he can’t seem to find the words to say what he wants right now. That wasn’t enough for you.

“Your eyes are saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.” You bat your eyelashes up at him and Argyle nodded yet again. He shook his head, reminding himself that he needed to speak.

“Yes! Yes, I mean, I want you too.” He exclaimed. You never knew you could have this effect on someone and it’s addicting.

“Is it okay if I can touch you now?”

“Of course, dude.” You roll your eyes and grin, ready for your fun.

You unbutton his pants and slowly pull down on it as well as his underwear too. Argyle was thicker than you thought he would be. You slow start to stroke his semi, wanting him to get stiffer. Argyle moans sweetly as you dribble a bit of spit down the shaft of him. You continued to stroke him and could see his knees starting to buckle a bit.

“Take a seat, babe.” You say as you let go, wanting him to get more comfortable. Rest in peace to the couch. Your parents will understand, right? Argyle on the other hand gladly sat down on it, legs spread so you could fit yourself in between. You continue to kiss along his length, holding him in place for you to do so. Argyle tosses his head back in pleasure. You lick a long strip against erection. Finally deciding it was time to talk him all in.

You steady yourself before you begin swallowing his dick, all the while looking at him. Argyle’s eyebrows furrowed watching you take him in your mouth. You bob your head up and down as much as you could and stroke what you couldn’t with one hand. With your other hand, you start to play with yourself, feeling how wet you get from just sucking him off.

“Oh, fuck, that feels good.” He moans out. Gently, he places his hand on top of your head. He clenches his eyes shut as you continue to stroke him faster with the unoccupied hand. A loud pop echoes through the living room as you take him out of your mouth, beginning to stroke him, letting your jaw take a break.

“I need it now.” You say as you pull your off of him leaving him aching, while you bring your fingers that you were playing with, up to his mouth. Before he could understand what happened, he started sucking off the juices on your fingers. You moan out, feeling him swirl his tongue around your digits and straddle him. Argyle swore he was harder than rocks itself.

Your mind high on him, you quickly grabbed the condom and tore it for him. While he put the rubber on, you quickly pulled down your shorts, revealing your pantieless cunt waiting for him. Argyle slapped his erection on your ass and you smirked holding onto him. You both look into eachothers eyes before you both lean in kissing. It was hot and steamy, you could practically feel the need of each other. He swipes his tongue in the kiss and greedily, you took his tongue in your mouth. You pushed his hair out of the way trying to deepen the kiss.

While shamelessly sucking each other's faces off, you grab Argyle’s dick and line it up to your cunt. You slowly sank down onto his length and the two of you gasped at the feeling. Argyle was a lot thicker than you’re used to so you wait a bit for the pain to go away.

“Are you okay?” He questions, wanting to make sure everything is fine before you continue on. You nod, wincing a bit but you knew you could do it.

“I need you to say it.” He says while holding onto your waist. Argyle pushes the loose hair from your face making it easier for him to look at you and tucks it behind your ear.

“I’m okay.” You say as you fully take him in. You gasp as it fits perfectly inside you. Argyle’s tugs on the tank top you wore and takes one of your breasts in his mouth. Licking and swirling along the bud. You slowly begin to bounce on him. The pleasure from core and him sucking on your breast makes you shut your eyes in pleasure. A moan leaves your lips and Argyle swore that it was his favorite noise ever. He slowly began rutting his hips as you bounced onto him as well. The feeling of you surrounding him was intoxicating.

“Does that feel good baby?” You coo as you caress his face. He tugs on your nipple with his mouth looking up at you and nods a ‘yes’. His eyes soften when they meet yours. He takes the other breast in his hand, pinching your nipple and playing with it. Your bouncing becomes labored as you feel yourself getting close. Argyle took the hint and began to control. He started slowly, gaining a rhythm of thrusting inside of you. He watches your breasts bounce as he thrusts inside you.

“Faster, please.” You beg. He wrapped his arms around your waist and began thrusting quicker. The sound of skin slapping filled the living room, you feel yourself getting closer. So did Argyle, he feels you clenching around him, this only caused him to go a bit harsher. Argyle begins kissing on your neck, licking and nibbling on the skin that’s showing.

“I’m gonna cum!” You exclaim as Argyle’s rhythm never falters, at this point he’s thrusting rapidly into you. The room's temperature got even hotter as he was slamming into you. You bounced at each thrust Argyle gave and his grip around your waist was surely going to leave a mark.

“Fuck, me too.” He moans. You could feel his hips beginning to shake as he confessed. You started bouncing on him again as he continued to thrust. Both of you want to reach your respective highs. Argyle meets his first. He ruts his hips into you, slamming his length over and over, milking out every last drop. You meet yours quickly after he begins slamming himself in over and over. You could feel his dick throbbing inside you as he was cumming. The two of you just hold each other as you get off of your respective highs.

Argyle knew he was about to get fired with the way he didn’t come back to the shop, but how could he when he was getting a generous tip?

#argyle stranger things #argyle x reader #argyle smut #argyle #stranger things 4 #argyle fan fic #argyle fan fiction #argyle x reader smut #jvblood #stranger things argyle

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justkafka · 2 years

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Thoughts for a Town In The Middle of Nowhere: Part II

I spent most of 2020 in lockdown, a fact that many of us shared. Working from home in the Metro took its toll on my mental health and all I could think about was how awful it was that I couldn't get out of the house or at least do something enjoyable. Even prior to the pandemic, I had already decided that I was going to resign from my job in October. Part of my plan included travelling to Japan even. But as COVID cases continued to rise and this inept government unwilling to heed necessary measures, I knew that a lot of those plans had to be shelved. By early November I had tendered my resignation, a decision I knew was a difficult one to make given the circumstances. But if there was one thing that being in lockdown did good for me was that I was able to save more than enough money to get me through my plans of taking a long vacation.

I went back to Borongan City in December, endured a 2 week quarantine (at my old high school, no less!). My parents were very supportive about my plans of resting and because our house was undergoing tremendous renovations, it was exciting to see just how big all the changes would look. I spent a lot of my free time just lounging around the house. Because covid cases in our province weren't that high, enforcement of many protocols weren't as strict so at least there was still a bit of semblance of normalcy.

As the months passed by, the holidays dying down and summer vacations not being as active, I started to grow weary again. I didn't want to go back to the metro just yet but I wanted something worthwhile to do while I was in the province. My mom works for the provincial government as a Disaster Risk Reduction Management coordinator, a position that involves a lot of work especially given the pandemic and several hazards Eastern Samar faces. She then asked me if I wanted to work in Maslog for my aunt. Now my aunt has been one of those figures that my mom constantly talked about even though I've never met her. Stories of how hard her job must be in Maslog would often be a conversation piece. I thought about what my mom suggested and did my own research. A part of me wanted to try and gauge what it would be like to work as a government employee, another part wanted to try and explore places I knew I didn't have a lot of chance to visit. But mostly, I thought about how for 5 years I've worked for corporations that I had very little enthusiasm for and how badly I wanted to make a change for those I want to serve.

My parents and I had a lengthy conversation about my plans. Most of the content really involved the banes of working there - there's no internet, the place is really remote and there are no places that offers fast food or city-esque services, if I wanted to come home I'd have to plan everything carefully. And the pay? Php 150 per day, Php 3000 per month.

I knew that the pay would be small as I was going there without a designated position. I told my parents that money wasn't a problem. Losing access to internet wasn't a big deal either as I wanted to lessen screen time and interaction anyway. After a lot of consideration, I decided finally that I was going to take the job.

I met with my Ate Karen (who technically is my aunt but because she's very accommodating and friendly, it almost felt like I was just hanging with a friend). On my way to Maslog I decided to pack all the things that I needed so as I won't have to come back right away. I had it set in my mind that I was going to try and make it for 2 weeks before coming home again. I left on June 6, 2021. All I could think about was how scary it was, I was constantly thinking if whether I had made the right choice. What was I doing? Can I really make it here? What if I don't know how to do my job?

I tried to ease myself up on all these things and just try to make the best of it. It was a new adventure really. I knew that I needed time to breathe and this was a great opportunity to try again.

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himbotiem · 1 year

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I posted 27 times in 2022

10 posts created (37%)

17 posts reblogged (63%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dianthus-lovebomb

@himbotiem

@pedritcpascalito

@babydaddyleorio

@mk-wites

I tagged 25 of my posts in 2022

Only 7% of my posts had no tags

#reblog - 12 posts

#shadow sk8 - 5 posts

#no himbos rn - 4 posts

#sk8 - 3 posts

#sk8 the infinity - 3 posts

#beetle writes! - 2 posts

#higa hiromi - 2 posts

#sk8 shadow - 2 posts

#hiromi higa - 2 posts

#asks - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 82 characters

#im sorry this is so short but its liek 3 am and i habe a 10 am class im veyr sorry

My Top Posts in 2022:

This was just a little thing I did for @scorphargrove’s fic on Ao3, Bite Back. I highly recommend it, I could not put it down lmao, AND the first chapter of the sequel came out recently :D

This drawing is supposed to be in chapter 5 I think? When billy and the reader walk back into the Halloween party and try to have a good time, I wanted to get that like. Initial when they get on the dance floor time frame I guess, when it feels like it’s just those two together lol. There’s supposed to be silhouettes of the crowd of people around and behind them but I don’t know if I executed it right 😅 also I completely forgot reader had Billy’s jacket on till like halfway through the third sketch, so it’s a little stiffer than I’d have liked. I do really like how I did his hair tho!! References are ur best friend forever frfr!

This isn’t the best drawing bc the pose was kicking my ass 😭 hope u like it :3

4 notes - Posted November 15, 2022

Should I get back into writing?? I’ve been wanting to but idk who/what to write about 😅

4 notes - Posted November 13, 2022

Literally no rush but pls,, I hope you finish those Hiromi fics someday 😭 cause your writing is so good!!!

aaaa sorry 😞 I will I will but school’s been kicking my ass and I’ve been trying to apply to college and stuff so I haven’t had time for our favorite skater!!! Thank you so much for the reminder though, sorry I died

4 notes - Posted January 26, 2022

HAPPY BIRHH YH DAY TO SHAODW ALSO I FOUND OUT TODAY SEAOSN TWO WAS CONFIRMeD IM GONNA CRY

7 notes - Posted September 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

prompt: "why the hell is there glitter everywhere?"

plot: the sk8 family trying to throw shadow a birthday party but hiromi forgot his own birthday

Thanks sm for the request!!! I hope you like it :) sorry if the ending was rushed, but it’s 4 months late 😓

warnings: none! Unless glitter counts

~~~

HAPPY (late) BIRTHDAY HIROMI!!

Throwing a surprise party couldn’t be that hard, right?

Wrong.

Even with the brain power of a child, two seventeen year olds, an Italian chef, and a calligrapher (who is really just hogging all the brain cells), they were still only able to make the building look a little less than mediocre.

“C’mon, it's the old man’s 25th birthday! We gotta keep going!” Reki said. He was about to fall from putting up streamers in the tallest possible corner of Joe’s restaurant, before Langa steadied the stool he was on.

“Reki, this place is the best it’s probably gonna get.” Joe came out of the kitchen with a badly iced cake, “come tell me what to write on here,”

“Just write ‘you’ve aged.’ that’ll be funny,” Miya didn’t look up from his game, but he did give a little mischievous grin at his suggestion.

“I am not writing ‘you’ve aged.’ that would be weird.”

“Then just add ‘well’ and a smiley face.” Reki said.

“‘Well, smiley face, you’ve aged? That doesn’t sound nice-”

Cherry was tired from their shenanigans all day, “Just write Happy Birthday, you damn gorilla,” and as he turned, he actually saw the cake. “Do you even know how to ice a cake?” he didn’t wait for an answer as he brought it back into the kitchen to fix the horrid decoration job. Hopefully it tasted better than it looked, Cherry had his work cut out for him.

With that, Joe figured they should probably finish up the final touches on everything, and Miya, Reki, and Langa were left in the restaurant with no adult supervision. Worst idea yet, the three of them were already up to trouble. Reki still thought the space could use more pizazz, as he knows Shadow is no simple man. Reki took a cup of glitter and started trying to find somewhere to put it, maybe on the tables? Yeah, that sounded good. He grabbed a pinch and sprinkled it over the plastic tablecloths, for some variety. He didn’t notice, but Langa was sneaking up behind him to get some glitter. By the time Reki figured it out, it was too late, and it was already everywhere.

“Dude! I just washed this hoodie!” Reki said with a smile. He laughed as he threw some glitter as a revenge attack, not noticing that Miya was right behind Langa.

As the first speck of glitter hit the console, Miya was up and throwing glitter back at his assailants. Reki ducked behind a booth, hopefully he'd be safe here. Alas, a face full of green and purple glitter hit him, very on brand. Reki got his own red ammo, and released it onto the catboy.

“What is going on here?” Oh noooo, mom’s back. They halted their war in fear of the pink haired man. “I can’t deal with this right now- Go visit the flower shop and tell his manager she needs to keep him busy. I need to sweep up this mess.” Without a word, the three boys marched single file out the door, sent on their mission.

They weren’t very subtle. Miya, Reki, and Langa went to try to tell Shadow’s- Uh, Higa’s Manager about his surprise birthday. While he was working. They didn’t plan out Cherry’s request that well.

Oh no, Higa came out of the break room, and Mrs manager went downstairs to work on a pick up order. He stopped in his tracks, seeing the devil’s dandruff all over the ground.

“Why the hell is there glitter everywhere.”

The three boys look down and they all start talking over each other, though none saying the truth. Higa was not having it, the more they panicked, the more it fell from their hair and clothes.

“No- you know what I don’t care, get out,” Higa started pushing the boys out the door, not without (very sparkly) protest. He just got done sweeping the main floor, and now these hooligans left a snail trail of unicorn barf that he’d have to clean up before more customers came in. It was a busy day too, Higa could barely have the time to think. He woke up, came to work, and has been busting his behind all day! He didn’t even remember his birthday, it was that bad. The days leading up to today hadn’t been easier either, what with everyone wanting bouquets for some reason.

By the time Reki, Miya, and Langa had gotten back to the restaurant, with an incomplete mission by the way, Oka had been called to help clean up the rest of the glitter while Cherry had to go back to the cake. Oka gave Reki the broom and dustpan he was using, sighing as he walked away to make sure other things were in order.

“What were you guys thinking, roughhousing so close to the start of the party,” Oka was getting ready to pick up Higa, unaware that the boys never got to tell the manager to keep him there. Reki was busy sweeping, Langa taking out trash bags, so Miya had to run after him out the door.

“Ah, wait! He might be home, I don’t- uh, we didn’t get to tell the manager to have him stay at work. I don’t know.” Oka nodded at the new information, and Miya dashed back in after a fallen streamer.

Oka figured he had nothing to lose if he checked the shop first, so he started there. Luckily, Shadow was just leaving. Oka ripped off his helmet and jogged to the locked door to wait for him to come out. He soon heard the door chime and he rose to meet Shadow.

“Oka, I uh- what are you doing here?” Shadow was confused, so Oka vaguely gestured to the moped and held out a helmet.

See the full post

13 notes - Posted January 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #💀

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teacherintransition · 2 years

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Would You Do It All Over?

You left the career path, but it’s still in your heart…

If you could start again…would you?

First off, I am past wondering if I did the right thing. Retiring at fifty four was right …I was tired of putting off projects I desperately wanted to pursue. After thirty years in public education, it was time; I had achievements of which I was incredibly proud and I know I had an impact on many students. From a practical standpoint, if I had remained on the job, my wife wouldn’t have been able to pursue the fantastic opportunity to become a travel nurse. No new cities, no new friends, no new confidence…just stay at a workplace being under appreciated and under paid. Things will usually work out the way they should…just don’t roll the dice with karma.

This kind of introspection and “what if” is expected when in life transition, no worries …no panic. It happens because you gave your heart and soul to a calling. I am a public school teacher …full stop! I’m just doing something else now, but it is who I am in my soul. Yes, I do miss my students every day; whether they are eighteen or are fifty, but we move on to bigger and better things. BUT, the question sneaks into your psyche, in the quiet moments when you least expect it, when your guard is down; “would you ever go back?”

Where the shiznit did that come from? What kind of game you playing you deep seeded,subconscious? Well, there it is…the question. I’m not the only one who asked themselves this question; I have five to six colleagues who went back to teaching after retiring. They have their reasons and are theirs alone. Since retiring in August of 2020, I have received seven unsolicited offers to return to the classroom, all of which I turned down. The reasons are my own, but hell, I write about my state of mind every week so there are likely no surprises.

I often get, “well, I reckon them kids got too wild!” Nope, I was able to stay current with the kids and my rapport was always excellent. This question follows, “I guess they made the job too hard to do what with testing and paperwork?” Pretty damn close, but I endured it if I was making headway with a kid. “Was it Covid?” It was a determining factor. The state of Texas had over promised and under delivered and lives were at risk. The proudest collective achievement of my profession is how we pulled off the largest educational rescue in history by adapting instruction to finish the year; and within two months the public was turning its back on us. Nothing new here, except I had thirty years in…three years more than needed to retire. It was time for me and my family.

Still the questions, oye vay… but can you still do it …if needed. Damn straight I could, I was never too burnt out for the job, BUT (there’s that big BUT) some terrible things have happened in the ensuing two years: book bans, litigation liability if a student or parent is offended by instruction, the non issue of CRT, increased scrutiny on daily lessons to make certain the teacher is teaching the “right thing,” loosening the professional requirements to become a teacher to get more manageable, less professional “teachers.” I can remember at no point in my life or professional career where educators were being treated as badly as the current practice of regarding us as unreliable, underhanded non-professionals; and believe me …there’s quite a history of such treatment. This shameful change has occurred in less than two years and is overtly political in its nature. I have strived to avoid political discussions in my articles so as to make time spent reading my thoughts as helpful and introspective; and I will speak no further than I have on that topic.

This is a place to look inward and to adjust to this life change; part of which deals with the questions one asks of themselves…this is just one of many. Would I go back? With the current state of affairs…NO. I achieved too much and worked too hard to allow myself and profession to be so disrespected. Now, if you take a philosophical tone to that question and asked, “if you were twenty two and were you just certified would you become a teacher within the present environment,” then there would be much to consider. I’ve been in retail, assembly line manufacturing, road construction, cabinet making, roofing… those would be things I could do as a twenty two year in 2020. Worthy though they are of consideration….they but deny the undeniable truth. I AM A TEACHER. (…and start 90’s hard rock …NOW, as I turn to walk toward the sunrise.)

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classicjdiesandgoestohell · 2 years

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something that has been bothering me sooo much lately is how dysphoric i feel around nick literally terrible i haven't felt this dysphoric in yeaaaarrrrrssssss. theres some post on my instagram from december about having fucking dysphoria dreams do u realize how ridiculous that is???? Literally have dreams for weeks on end about dysphoria??????? crazy, especially bc dreams are always super relevant for me. they are not abstract at all, they are straight up what is happening and what ive been feeling lately.

june does not make this feel any better at all way worse i feel so bad. my girlfriend bought me a binder for christmas but i mostly just wore it at the house (idk why, its not like i Don't want to be flat when i leave the house, i just always seemed to forget when i needed to leave) to feel better at myself. (actually as i type this i realize it's because s lot of my dysphoria is more, self inflicted than other ppl percieving me. I have the worst dissociation ever I don't process that when I leave the house, there is a physical body that people are perceiving so i don't particularly care what i look like). ANYWAYS long story short i started wearing my binder to school bc i want to make sure that i can handle wearing it for the full 8-10 hours, instead of taking it off after a few. I have also been observing which shirts i look the flattest in so that i can wear those ones to see him. yea. obviously they're all sweaters/heavier clothes which won't work well with the heat but never! In my life! Have I let heat stopped me from wearing clothes!

i also wanted to try a new hair dye colour bc ive had blonde & pink for over a year now )i still love it, don't get me wrong i am just curious what other colours id like) but like i am scared it'll suck and i won't be able to get my hair back to something good by the time i see him. if i dyed it within the next week it'd Maybe be faded enough to redye it b4 the trip??? But I don't know how fast green fades compared to the pink i always do. Way slower im pretty sure.

i also really want to Cut my hair and get a shorter haircut but again i am so scared it'll look bad. ivr had the same length for also over a year and i like it, it's safe. but this post is DYSPHORIA THEMED i think it's too ambiguous. i think my face is too feminine for it to ever look male on me, even if it could for other people. i want to go shorter but if it grows out badly im ending it!!!!!!! it'd be better to do it now (i was planning to cut my hair Tonight) but if i cut it badly, ill have 1-2 more weeks left of school w a terrible haircut.....but if i cut it after that, it might not be able to grow out enough to look ok b4 nick? UGH I don't know bro idk what my final decision will be. i need to make it fucking fast though. maybe ill have my sister help me make the decision & cut it so that it'll be better. the issue is I have very very straight hair so i hate shorter hair styles bc if i don't brush it or if i go more than 3 days w/o showering, it gets so flat i look so fucking bad

Ohghhhhhhh this reminds me i have terrible eating disorder related hair loss. I started recovery mid-march, and my friend said it took him about 3 months for his hair to start being healthy & grow back again and that's around the time i see nick. but it could take longer for me. that's another reason i don't want to cut my hair, because j did used to have shorter hair and it looked fine. It was never flat or anything even w/o brushing, but now i have much less hair on my head. and it is not the healthiest hair.. so im scared how it'd look shorter

I'm talking a lot about cutting & dyeing it when most likely I'd just end up keeping the same haircut anyways!

yea just o haven't had a cis person in my life in YEARS all my friends either came out ss trans or they got cut off for other reasons so there is just none except like...my dad but he does not count. Honorary lgbt. especially a cis person i am dating....? It feels so bad literally so much anxiety all the time i already hate talking caus my voice so in person i wonder how often i will want to just opt out of the situation and not exist. god i hate it bc i am soo excited for everything else i want to be there so badly but i just hate that i must have a physical form and he has to see it. i haven't really been dysphoric for a long time (bc, no cis people in my life, got more comfortable in myself, came out irl) but it just. ugh. Yeah. i feel so guilty for kind of dreading that part of seeing him because i feel like i Should be totally excited but i am also so anxious. And also that's the whole point? is to see him and for him to see me. and know that i have a body i am real i have a face and i amna whole person and he is also. So it's like oh you're planning this whole elaborate thing only to dread likr...the main part of it. It'll probably be fine tho, i find i am much less aware of things in the moment and i won't even notice especially if i am having a good time. maybe the worry will be there when im trying to sleep, or in awkward spaces where i am suddenly aware of myself and my body and where i am. i love him and trust him tho so it'll be ok.

That is my post thank you for posting!

#lucky strike #whew!#purgatory

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blossomkoushi · 3 years

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hi sad rant in the tags

#writing things to block out the sad #i dont want to make someone- anyone- to read it #truly you dont have to its okay #i dont expect anyone to read it or care #like genuinely im not saying that for attention or pity #anyway um that should be enough #so. i am so fucking tired #not like i want to sleep but like my body feels *heavy*#i dont want to do anything and i dont have the energy to do anything #which is frustrating because i have things to do #truly considering going to school with greasy hair tomorrow just because im so exhausted #rly i barely have the energy to cry lmao #im just so fucking tired and im even more tired since this just seems to be my normal now #that i get beyond exhausted doing anything and i dont know why #its less than a month left of school and i so badly want to just give up and drop out #..i wont but i sure would like to #im just so tired and especially so so tired of being me #i just want to not be me for a day #im not even sad or anything im just exhausted and numb #think m just gonna go to bed early and then like. get up early to wash my hair before class #bc i really cant #i can watch these lectures later or just pay extra attention in class tomorrow i just. i cant #im almost done with one of them though and i think thats pretty good #tulip.rains

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luminari-mc · 3 years

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(Mammon x MC/Reader)

Prompt: "She doesn't compare to you. No one does.”

Genre: Angst, hurt(emotional)/comfort.

Pairing: GN!MC/Reader x Mammon

Summary: You and Mammon finally get to enjoy a well-deserving shopping trip just between the two of you. Just as you are about to hit the next shop, your attention is caught by an image advertised in the street.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: I wanted to try my hands at a prompt that is tagged as "fluff", but of course I ended up turning it into something angsty instead. But I like sad stuff, so that still works for me.

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It wasn't often that you got to spend time with Mammon without having any of his brothers around to bother you. But you had made it very clear to them that these few hours after school would be spent with Mammon, and only him. And for today's trip, you two had decided to go shopping in one of the busiest streets in the Devildom.

Clothes and jewelry stores, malls- you had done them all. When most of this time had been spent doing window shopping, Mammon had still insisted on getting at least a few bags of purchased goods for each of you by the end of the day. After all, what was the point of going on a shopping trip, if you didn't end up emptying your bank account only to regret it later?

And so, thanks to the demon's wonderful influence, your arms had now several bags hanging off of them. There was a certain guilt still looming over your head as you realized way overboard you might have gotten with your purchases, but Mammon promised he would take care of any financial problems you could encounter in the near future because of that. You still wondered how he was going to manage it, him being Mammon and all...

"Damn, now THAT'S what I call a good haul! Look at ya!" The white-haired demon grinned as he watch you hop out of the store, the glass doors opening automatically at your presence to let you out. He placed his wrists on his hips as his own bags dangled in his hands. "What'cha got for yourself this time?"

"They actually had that jacket I saw in a magazine the other day!" The doors closed behind you as you showed the white bag which contained the jacket. "You were right, that store was amazing. I can't believe you never showed it to me before."

"Ha! Told ya the Great Mammon knew where the best treasures were! Consider it an exclusive info, because I ain't gonna share more if any of my brothers are around next time." Mammon turned around before flipping a few of his bags over his shoulder, as you instantly began to trot to get to his level.

"What? So all this time you knew about it and you didn't tell me? Just because Asmo comes with us sometimes?" You expressed shock, right before your eyebrows joined together. "Really, as if you couldn't have told me over text or something."

"And have you go without me?! Nah, ain't gonna happen- you'd just get lost and end up in the worst store possible." Mammon glanced your way, and you could only smirk at his poor excuse.

"Sure, you're right. I forgot that humans don't have the same flawless sense of orientation as demons do." Despite your obviously sarcastic tone, Mammon didn't seem to register it as he nodded at your words.

"Exactly! Even if I gave you the full address, who knows where you'd end up? I don't want ya to come and complain to me afterwards, so it's gotta be with me or nothin'."

Even as you rolled your eyes, you noticed Mammon's face slightly turning away from yours, probably to hide the extra shade of color that had appeared on his cheeks ever so discreetly. Even when he was in his usual tsundere mood, it was endearing to see how concerned he was for your safety. And just how badly he wanted to be alone with you.

"So, where to next?" You asked without really thinking, surprising yourself that even after your extensive purchasing, you still wanted to do more. Or maybe it was that you didn't want this date to end right away. The past few weeks had been nothing but the brothers interrupting each other when any of them found themselves alone with you, so getting to spend some alone time with one of them, especially with Mammon, deserved to be extended a bit more.

"Glad ya asked!" As if a battery had been plugged into him, the demon brandished his arm into the air, the bags swinging by his face and missing him by a few inches. "I got this whole place where they're sellin' tons of stuff for pretty cheap, but it's actually authentic branded things. See, they're actually sold to that one guy who then has to sell them to another guy, and..."

As you listened to Mammon explain how he was able to find "authentic stuff" (probably not that authentic, you were pretty sure about that) for less than a quarter of its original price, your eyes found themselves drifting to an impressive ad plastered on a building the two of you were walking by. Recognizing the habit of Majolish to put their models on display for everyone to see was pretty easy, but that wasn't what caught your eye in the moment.

What tuned Mammon down completely in your ears, were the models themselves. The second born, sitting on a stool with a ripped shirt and pants, a few accessories hanging off his neck and barely covering anything of his exposed chest. He looked serious, staring straight at the objective- and at you, while the light shined on him to completely capture his frame for the picture.

And sitting down in the middle of the shot, between his legs, was a female demon wearing a red leather dress, her head resting on top of Mammon's leg. The clawed hand dangling off his knee- covered in golden rings, seemed to taunt you, as well as the piercing yellow eyes she had. Saying she wasn't beautiful would be lying. In fact, she was absolutely stunning. A perfect model for a perfect shot. Just looking at her made you feel small, like a prey that was about to be devoured by a hungry beast, the longer you were looking at her.

But that's what demons were supposed to make you feel like, right?

"Hey!" Mammon called out from the distance he had put between the two of you since you had stopped walking beside him. "Yo, MC!"

Watching as you kept staring into nothing, Mammon rolled his shoulders with a furrowed brow before walking back toward you, his head tilting to the side as he noticed your dead expression.

"Huuh hello, Devildom to MC? In which realm did ya get lost this time?"

"They replaced it." The words that left your mouth were weak, almost too silent for him to hear. It's as if all of the energy you had had evaporated from your body in an instant.

"Huh?" Mammon grew a bit concerned at this sudden change. His eyes perked up at the ad you were looking at, as you continued.

"The shoot we did together." Finally, you spared yourself from the sight, your gaze dropping to the ground. "They already replaced it with another one."

As soon as Mammon understood why *this* ad in particular seemed to be upsetting you so much, his jaw was already clenching. He remembered the stars he had seen in your eyes the previous week when you saw yourself on the Majolish ad, posing beside him- a shoot opportunity you had gotten while accompanying him after RAD a few days prior. In the middle of his shoot, he practically didn't leave any choice to his agent and had insisted that you be included in the shots to promote one of the new pieces of jewelry the brand was planning to release in the upcoming months. Asmo, who was there to witness your reaction on that day the three of you went out, had even taken a hundred pictures or so of you posing in front of the ad.

Except that, the jewelry you had posed with, was now present on the new model posing alongside Mammon.

He had made sure to engrave that smile of yours in his head at the time, even going so far as to snap a picture of your face while you were too focused on Asmo to notice him. But now, there was absolutely no trace of that same happiness anymore.

"The fuck?" The snarl that left him shook the walls of his throat. "That wasn't supposed to be advertised before another month! Why'd they have to take ours so soon?!"

"It's okay, Mammon." The demon stopped growling as his eyes lowered on the hand that was clutching his arm. "I mean... I'm not a model. Figures they wouldn't put it up for long... I-I mean, look at me. Seriously, who would want to see my face being exposed for longer than they can bare? It's hard to imagine. I wouldn't probably have sold their product anyway, so... it's okay."

The look on your face was devastating. Despite trying your best to smile, the tears pricking in your eyes were threatening to roll down your cheeks at any second. Mammon felt his heart being stabbed with a thousand invisible daggers, he couldn't bear to watch you feeling insulted in such a way.

His bags were immediately dropped onto the floor, the demon no longer caring for any of the fragile items he may have bought. His hands swung forward to cup your cheeks, forcing your face up to look at him straight in the eyes.

"Hey hey, MC. C'mon, look at me."

You did your best not to let your vision turn blurry because of the upcoming tears, and stared back at Mammon, your bottom lip trembling weakly.

"I don't care what anyone, model agents or not, can say- you'd sell a thousand more times than any fuckin' models out there, okay? In fact, you're worth even more than their stupid jewelry!"

His thumb quickly brushed away a tear from the corner of your eye as his other hand came to rest on your temple.

"They just put that one up there because that model is famous. They don't care about what's really beautiful, they just want to boast their popularity to the rest of the world." The blue of his eyes seemed to radiate the closer he moved towards you. "But I know what's beautiful. And her? She doesn't compare to you. No one does."

You could only look down in shame as his hands never left you, closing your eyes shut to let a couple tears out before Mammon grabbed a tissue from his pocket to dry your face. He patiently waited a few seconds for you to calm down, soothing you with slow caresses of your hair until your shoulders stopped shaking.

"I'm sorry..." you muttered, sniffling as you passed a wrist over your eyes. "I don't know why that upset me so much..."

"Ya got nothing to be sorry about." Mammon retrieved his hands from your head, only to grab the bags that were hanging off of your arms. He somehow manages to hold them alongside his own behind him, before wrapping the other arm around your shoulder.

"Hey, I'd call this a day. How about I prepare ya a bath when we're home? Courtesy of the Great Mammon."

You nodded, your lips arching into a smile as you grabbed the hand hanging off your shoulder. The day was cut too short for your liking, but you didn't feel up for any additional purchases, or to properly enjoy your outing anymore.

"Will you wash my hair?" You entertwined your fingers with his as he gave them a gentle squeeze.

"Pah, of course! Who else but me could do that?" He huffed through his nose, shaking his head at such an obvious question. Your laugh ringing in his ears gave him a brief moment of respite.

But the demon furrowed his brows as he lead you into your walk back home, keeping you snuggled at his side. Holding the bags in his left hand, his white nails sharply digged into his palm the more steps he took alongside you.

Making them cry? Such a big, big mistake. One thing was sure, Mammon wasn't about to let that one pass.

"But before that..." The hiss that escaped his throat went unnoticed by the two of you as your head rested against his shoulder.

"I'll have a few calls to make."

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

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Day 20, Story #2 is by @floreatcastellumposts

Title: Dittany Author/Artist: FloreatCastellum Pairing: Neville/Hannah Prompt: Bravery Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Discussion of maternal death, mentions of violence.

Hannah's mother had been a muggleborn, and that had been her death sentence.

Or rather, she had been a muggleborn with the audacity and bravery to be proud about it.

Most muggleborns ended up slipping entirely into wizarding society, and as much as they might say that they would keep in touch with their roots, the magic took over. Jeans became robes, electronics didn’t work in their homes so their pop culture references grew stale, the effort involved in keeping the statute of secrecy for extended family and old friends was too exhausting to sustain, so they saw them less and less and eventually…

This had not happened for Mum, even though the Abbotts were a very old family, well rooted in the magical community. She had agreed with Dad to live in Godric’s Hollow, because the Abbotts had lived there for many generations, but she had insisted on Hannah attending the local primary school, where she could make muggle friends. She was adamant that they make regular trips to Liverpool, to visit her side of the family, who believed that she worked in HR (which she did, but for a potion manufacturer, not for a haulage company as they believed) and that Hannah had received a scholarship to an exclusive boarding school, and that Dad owned a pub (which he did, but they neglected to mention that it was frequented by witches, wizards, goblins, the occasional hag and a half giant). And when the Stephens side of the family came to visit, they would have a flurry of activity where they would hide away anything magical-looking, and from the loft they would bring down the big television, and they would speed read some muggle newspapers so they could give their opinions on Tony Blair or Men Behaving Badly or Charles and Diana’s divorce or whatever else they thought might come up.

That was life as Hannah knew it, and it never felt complicated or brave or shocking or daring or any of the things she later found out it was.

She remembered certain details from the day very clearly. She’d been easing sneezewort plants out of their pots, the last repotting before winter, her fingers shaking at the long, pale roots, creating a rain of soil. The last of the cream coloured petals, curled and brown at the edges, fell onto the potting bench. There was a sudden shock of cold air, a breeze from the door opening that hit their faces and whipped through their hair.

‘Professor Dumbledore’s here,’ said Susan with surprise, and Hannah had glanced up to see him closing the door to the humid greenhouse, his long white beard tucked into his belt, Professor Sprout hurrying over to him.

Hannah looked back down at her plant. The roots were all tangled together. Professor Dumbledore was probably here for Harry Potter, there were all sorts of rumours flying around about secret meetings between the two of them.

The plant needed a much bigger pot, but the roots were strong, there was no rot there.

‘Hannah.’

There was no hiding the bewilderment on her face. She had never had a direct conversation with the Headmaster before, and here he was, speaking kindly, gently, softly, one hand touching her shoulder and the other, black looking, gesturing to the door.

‘I need to-’ she started saying, as he led her out. Everyone was staring.

‘Don’t worry, dear,’ said Professor Sprout, and her voice sounded so strange, ‘I’ll finish up here for you.’

Perhaps part of her had known then. She knew it was something terrible. She was too afraid to ask. No one was ever pulled out of class for a good reason. She walked up to the castle alongside him as though in a dream, her heart beating up through her throat and into her mouth.

She was not sure how it happened, but suddenly she was in the warmth of his office, staring at Professor Dumbledore’s grave face, his lips moving, without really hearing, except for that first, terrible, world destroying little phrase.

‘I’m so very sorry to tell you that your mother has been found dead.’

There would be no worse event, no greater loss, no stronger pain in her entire life.

There was still dirt under her nails and in the creases of her palms, she noticed, as she reached into the silver box of floo powder.

It had been so long since she had seen Godric’s Hollow like this, golden and red in its autumn. Fallen leaves tumbled and floated down the river that rushed through the village, or collected in the gutters along the cobbled roads, damp and heavy. The sun stayed a little lower each day, casting long shadows across the beer garden of The Lost Owl, and the wind ruffled the sign on the door which read ‘Closed due to family bereavement.’

During the days, she wondered what to do with herself, stuck between boredom and terrible, overwhelming grief. When she could cry no more, she wondered if there was something wrong with her for wanting to find something interesting or fun to do, but when she tried to read, she could not focus. When she tried to listen to the radio, she would fall asleep. She could not bring herself to ask her weeping father to play cards or chess or anything with her. She thought of going back into school, but how could she see other people? Now that the world had ended? She wanted to tell people about it, wanted to say the words enough until they made sense to her, or until someone found the right words to say back that would make it OK, but she did not want to do this to her friends.

At nights, she would cry herself to sleep, and her whispers, please come back please Mummy please come back, would grow and grow and grow into sobs, begging into her pillow as the agony of it tore at her, the desperation, the feverish thought that there had to be something, that this couldn’t be it, there had to be a way, a special way, just for them, just for her, because it was her mother and there was no way she could live without her. Mum wouldn’t leave her like this, there was no way Mum would allow it, she would go to the ends of the earth to make sure that Hannah was happy, she had always said so, she had always promised…

But Death was something parents could not protect their children from, it seemed. The more Hannah thought on it, the more she became crushingly devastated, horrified to realise that each and every human on Earth had to endure this at some point. In different ways, at different times, with different feelings, but the mere act of bringing a child into the world was to condemn that child, one day, to the unbearable pain of loss. Every person she passed, she wondered, have you suffered as I have? Or is it yet to come for you? She wished she could spare them from it.

The aurors said she was probably targeted because she loudly and openly discussed her muggle heritage in the pub, and it must have been heard by the wrong people. That was what passed for bravery these days.

In the church of St Jerome, the stained glass window pattered with rain, and Hannah looked up at the colours of red and yellow and green rather than looking at the coffin with the splay of lilies, and she wondered when this nightmare would end, when Mum would come back, and tell her that everything would be all right.

***

Months passed in unbearable agony, worse than she could have imagined. But there were glimmers of light there too.

Here, at the school she thought she would never return to, in the place that was filled with unimaginable horror and oppression, she had purpose again. More purpose, in fact, than she had ever had in her life. And with it, new friendships that ran deeper than she had ever expected.

‘This way,’ Neville whispered, and they ran low across the lawn of the grounds. Some of the windows in the castle behind them blazed with light, so that she thought for a terrible moment that they must be visible from the Great Hall, but, of course, the windows would be black with night to anyone who looked out from them.

It was the summer term now, but the air was still cold as they panted, as though Dementors were close, which, she reasoned, they might be. She could feel the dew of the grass, left to grow long since Hagrid had left, soaking the bottoms of her jeans, seeping through her ratty trainers.

Following the dark shadow of Neville’s figure, she ran through the grounds until she heard the crunch of gravel underfoot, and, ahead, the slight shine of starlight reflecting off the greenhouses.

‘They’re in greenhouse three,’ Neville muttered, and her stomach dropped.

He did not notice, and continued to hurry along the garden path, past the raised beds for the hardier plants and herbs, and she followed, but at a walk now, dread gnawing at her.

He stopped at the door, holding his hands up to the glass to peer in. ‘OK…’ he said, still breathless from the run. ‘OK, looks clear… Now, while I talk to the venomous tentacula, you grab a tray, and fill it with perlite and only a few handfuls of compost, it’s a mountain plant so it likes it nice and rocky.’

‘OK,’ she said, and though she thought she sounded normal, he turned to her. She could barely make out his expression in the darkness.

‘Are you all right?’

‘I… I’m sorry, I just… I haven’t been in the greenhouses for a long time… especially not this one. I should have thought before I volunteered, I'm sorry.’

She felt immediately embarrassed for blurting it out, and she had no idea if Neville would even grasp what she was getting at. He had been in the class, yes, but did he even remember that day? What had been the worst day of her life had been a perfectly ordinary school day for the rest of her classmates, and so many terrible things had happened since then.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I can’t leave you out here.’

She thought he was telling her off, or saying that they had to go back, but before she had the time to feel hurt or ashamed, he was holding out his hand towards her.

She swallowed, and then placed her trembling hand in his. She was not unaccustomed to physical touch with him, or many others. Over the past year, she had tended wounds and comforted people as they cried, she had grasped hands and arms and knees under desks to soothe people or tell them to control themselves, she had passed secret notes and morsels of food and whatever else needed smuggling, slipping it nimbly from her fingers into their palms as they passed in the corridors.

But now his fingers pressed firm and reassuring against hers, and there was something very different about them holding hands.

She let him lead her into the greenhouse; the humid, warm air surrounded them at once, like an odd sort of hug that sat heavy on their lungs. Tall, leafy plants towered above them, brushing the domed glass high above their heads, which magically reflected the brilliant stars above them and lit the place in glorious silver.

Now that she was in here, she felt a little better. The dread that had stopped her ever returning here, that had caused her to drop herbology and pretend that this part of the castle no longer existed, had not come to pass. It was, after all, simply a greenhouse, and Mum could not die again.

‘Are you all right?’ he said gently.

‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Thank you.’

He nodded, and reached for some gloves on a nearby bench. She missed his hand around hers. ‘Let’s move quickly, and get you out of here,’ he said, donning some goggles and a thick leather apron.

She went to the potting tables where Professor Sprout always stood, and seized a large seedling tray. As she took handfuls of compost and perlite, she could see Neville wrestling with the venomous tentacular, saying, ‘I’ll bring you doxy granules tomorrow - I’ll move you to a sunnier spot - I already checked with Professor Sprout - come on, you knew this was part of the deal, we agreed-’

Eventually, when he had tied enough of the writhing vines together with garden twine and stroked the shoots into calmness, he gave a nod to Hannah, and started to remove his protective gear as she hurried over and they squeezed behind the plant

There, on a table surrounded by blue lanterns to make up for the blocked light caused by the tentacula, were long, deep pots, stuffed with dittany. Their slender, arching stems were clustered with pleasant green leaves, with a dusty sort of whiteness, and they were dotted with pink flowers. She had never seen the plant as it was before; she had only ever remembered the little vials of dittany kept in their first aid kit, good for scraped knees and cuts from any broken glass in the pub. Mum had always said it was good to be prepared in an emergency, it had been one of her funny little things like that, along with being a bit of a hypochondriac, and so Hannah had had a vial in the bottom of her trunk when she returned to school. That, combined with her good potions knowledge, had helped her stumble into a kind of mothering role that she found had rather suited her.

‘I just need the flowers, the book says,’ she said, as Neville started gently pulling some up by the roots.

‘Yes, but I think it’d be good if I can grow another set somewhere, as a back up so we don’t have to keep sneaking out here. It’s just me and Seamus in the dorm, I don’t think he’d mind if I put them in the window between Harry and Ron’s beds. Here, take these, cut the flowers where the stem splits off - yeah, there - so it’ll grow back.’

‘It’s really pretty,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t expecting it to be so pretty. It’s usually that the most useful plants are the ugliest.’

‘It is,’ said Neville absent-mindedly. ‘It’s from Crete. The healing properties were only discovered in the 17th century - people used to think it was an aphrodisiac, and it’s still used in some love potions.’

She looked at him, and though the light in the greenhouse was white starlight only, she could still see his cheeks burn red.

‘It’s… it’s not, though,’ he mumbled. ‘Well… a little bit, but I… I don’t know why I said that.’

‘Because it’s interesting,’ she said quickly, as he busied himself repotting the seedlings. He nodded rapidly, and cleared his throat a little, and she cast around for something to say. ‘You… you should be careful, growing these in the dorm. If you’re caught-’

‘There’s no rule against growing plants,’ he said. ‘I’ve had plants up there loads of times. Especially my mimbulus mimbletonia, that’s had pride of place for a while.’

‘You know they don’t need an explicit rule,’ she said quietly. ‘They do what they want. If they think you’re… doing anything good, anything kind. That’s enough.’

He nodded, looking down at the delicate, thin roots of the dittany. There was a reason that he and Professor Sprout were growing such an innocent plant in such secrecy. ‘I know… but… it’s worth the risk.’

‘That’s very brave.’

‘Is it? Just growing a plant? Is that what passes for bravery these days?’

‘Yes,’ she said honestly. ‘Anything good does now. And it’s not just that.’ She paused, still cradling one of the delicate, rose pink flowers in her hand. ‘I mean… what were you thinking in muggle studies the other day? I hated seeing you screaming like that.’

‘Well I had to say something. It was repulsive, what she was saying about muggle children.’

‘No one believes her, no one really thinks-’

‘We don’t know that. Maybe some people might start believing her, because it’s easier. And anyway, it’s not just about that. Remember Umbridge?’

‘I try not to,’ she said dryly, and in the pale, washed out starlight she saw him grin.

‘I know it’s stupid, but as Ginny and Luna haven’t come back, and Harry and Ron aren’t here, or Dean, or loads of other people… I’ve been-’ he sighed, as though frustrated he couldn’t find the words, ‘I’ve been trying to think about what they would do. I can’t afford to be Neville Longbottom, I’ve got to be someone braver. And Harry used to just completely go off on her, used to tell her straight in lessons that You-Know-Who was back, and, yeah, it got him more trouble than it felt like it was worth at the time, but you know what? I always found it really inspiring.’

‘I did too,’ she said quietly. ‘I remember thinking… well… why would he stick to a lie through all that?’

‘Exactly. He had principles, and if he was here he wouldn’t stand for any of that rot. There’s a lot of times over the past few months where I’ve just tried to…’ he shrugged helplessly, ‘pretend that I’m Harry. That I’m brave.’

‘I don’t think you’re pretending at all,’ she said. ‘You are brave. You always have been. You’re a Gryffindor, aren’t you?’

‘Somehow.’

‘No somehow about it. You’re the bravest man I know, and that includes Harry.’

‘How on earth does it include Harry?’ he asked, and he sounded like he was on the verge of laughter.

‘Because he’s had to be,’ she said. ‘I’ve grown up in Godric’s Hollow, you know, I’ve seen the ruined house that he lived in. He’s had to be brave all the way from when he was a baby. But I didn’t. You didn’t. You’ve chosen to be brave, you’ve chosen to channel him. You're a pureblood, you could choose, every day, to keep your head down and get on with things, but you don't. You stand up and call her a bigoted liar in class and get tortured and you never back down. I find that more inspiring than anything.’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ he said quietly.

‘And you were brave lots of times even before. Don’t you remember winning those points all the way back in first year?’

He beamed, and looked at her directly, for the first time since he had blurted out that dittany was an aphrodisiac. ‘You remember that?’

‘Of course I do. Dumbledore pointing out about standing up to your friends - he was so right, that does take a lot of bravery. I tried to do it next year, when Ernie was telling me that Harry was the heir of Slytherin. I’m sorry to say that I wasn’t as brave as you, but at least I tried, I suppose.’

‘I think you’re very brave too,’ he said. ‘Looking after everyone like this, handing out essence of dittany, running out here with me to get more… I’m sorry that you’ve had to come back in here. I didn’t think.’

‘I didn’t either,’ she said, and she started cutting more flowers. ‘I was just so focused on the idea of more, I didn’t really think about where I’d be getting it from… But, you know, I’m OK, actually. The thought of it was worse than the reality. It’s just a greenhouse.’ She looked around. The white starlight bleached the dark greenery into shades of silver, bounced off the watering cans, sparkled in the droplets of water from the sprinklers. ‘A very beautiful one.’

‘I like to think so,’ he said, a little hoarsely. ‘I always found this whole place beautiful, but now it… sometimes feels like only the greenhouses still are. They’re the only place I haven’t seen people being tortured.’

She paused. ‘I’m secretly thankful my mum isn’t alive to see this. Is that awful? I’m just glad she never had to worry about me being here. I feel bad enough for Dad.’

‘It’s not awful,’ said Neville. ‘I know what you mean.’

‘Do you?’

‘My parents don’t know anything about what’s going on, and for the first time in my life, I’m glad,’ he said, and for some reason his words seemed to surprise him.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, and without thinking she put down the little secateurs and touched his arm. He breathed deeply, not quite meeting her eyes, pressing down one of the seedlings quite firmly into the tray, before finally turning to her.

‘I live with my gran, because… my…’ He took another deep breath, and suddenly there was a clanging from outside.

They froze, and heard a low voice swearing. 'Bloody wheelbarrow…'

Hearts thudding, they ducked down and stayed silent, Neville silently mouthing for Hannah to get onto the large empty shelf under the potting table, where bags of compost were usually kept. He reached up, fumbling for the secateurs, and then started crawling along on his belly.

'What are you doing?' she whispered, horrified. Alecto Carrow was opening the door to the greenhouse, still muttering and swearing about the wheelbarrow he had tripped over.

He put a finger to his lips, and then pointed at the venomous tentacula, which had begun to writhe against the twine. The snip snip snip of the secateurs seemed unreasonably loud, but from the other side of the greenhouse Carrow did not appear to hear them, rifling noisily through the plants and shrubs, sending terracotta pots crashing to the floor.

'Anyone in here?' he demanded. 'I saw your footprints in the gravel. Hello?'

The vines of the tentacula waved threateningly, and Hannah watched with trembling fear as one of them reached out to Neville, still prone on the ground, and started to wrap itself around his throat.

'Don't be cheeky,' she heard him mutter to it, and he calmly prodded it with the secateurs until it released him.

It kept one tendril around his ankle, but Neville seemed to allow it as a compromise, and instead watched through the vines as Carrow upturned a table, still shouting and swearing.

After several, agonisingly long minutes, Carrow came close to them. The venomous tentacula silently released Neville’s ankle, and raised it's spiked tendrils.

'OW! Son of a bludger-'

A long line of expletives followed, and the venomous tentacular shook noisily, whip-like noises echoing through the greenhouse as it reached after Carrow, now bolting from the room.

'Grab the tray,' Neville told Hannah. 'He'll be heading straight to the hospital wing, we should have a clear path back. Quickly, before the tentacula gets over-excited and turns on us-'

She did so at once and he held back the spiked vines as she squeezed past the plant, and hurried safely out of range.

She stood there, holding her tray of little dittany plants and the heads of the flowers. She watched as Neville easily unentangled himself from the tentacula, patted it, said, 'thanks mate,' and grabbed a clear cover for the tray. He came close to her as he fitted it over the dittany, protecting them from the cold night air they would have to hurry back through.

His face was inches from her own, and she felt her breath hitch in her throat a little as she looked up at him. There was a slight clunk as the lid of the tray found its place. For a moment, they were perfectly still, just their breathing in that humid place, and his eyes, shining light blue in the pale light, lifted from the tray of dittany to meet her own.

'Do you really think I'm brave?' he whispered.

She nodded, and he seemed to be steeling himself for something. Please, she thought, please make this place good for me again. Her hands gripped the edges of the tray.

Very gently, very slowly, he leaned closer over the tray. His hand moved as though to softly move her face to meet his, but he didn't need to, for she was already naturally tilting her head, and her heels were lifting a little off the ground without her bidding them to.

Their lips met, soft like the petals of the dittany between them, sweet like the fragrance. His fingertips were trembling slightly as they caressed against her cheek, but then they calmed as the kiss deepened.

The tray pressed into them as he tried to move closer, and it reminded them where they were. They broke apart, panting and gasping as though they had just finished the run down from the castle.

She had never kissed anyone before. She was glad, unbelievably, overwhelmingly, joyfully glad, that her first kiss had been with Neville, in this place where the warm air was scented with damp soil and sweet flowers.

'We… we should take these back,' he said, his voice slightly hoarse. ‘Let - let me take them.’

He took the tray from her, and in her happy daze she allowed it, and let him lead the way out of the greenhouse. Joy had returned to her again, beneath the fogged glass, amongst the green plants, bursting with life.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #neville x hannah #tw: maternal death #tw: mentions of violence

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

Text

We’re Us

A little commishy for my bxtch @thinger-strang.

Read on Ao3

This shit is SOFT

“Dustin, we all saw that fireball hit you,” Will said accusatorily, gesturing to the red bean bag on the ground at Dustin’s feet.

“Okay, first of all, you’re supposed to call a pause of play before using my real name,” Dustin said, all in one breath. “And second of all, the fireball only hit my lute, therefore I sustained no physical damage.” Dustin gestured to the cereal box that was taped to a jump rope, slung over his shoulder like it was a prized instrument.

“No, it didn’t. We all saw it hit your shoulder. You’d lose that arm at least, and take probably, like, fifty damage points.” Lucas pretended to aim a bow and arrow at Dustin while he spoke.

Dustin was getting dangerously close to huffy territory.

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll take the stupid damage points. Can we resume play yet?”

Everyone nodded, and they fell right back into battle.

It wasn’t often they took the game off the DnD board, but the weather was perfect, summer beginning to make itself known a little earlier than usual, giving them April days that were clear and perfect and made for the best LARP sessions known to Indiana.

Will aimed a fireball at Max, and launched it right as she darted out of the way. It sailed past her, missing her left hand by less than an inch, and she laughed wildly, raising her pool noodle sword and aiming blow after blow at him.

The bean bag hit the fence and went spiraling awkwardly into the small alley between the house and the old wooden fence

It was Will’s last fireball, and he hurried to retrieve any he could reach, dodging as best as he could around Max’s wild sword-wielding.

She tended to wallop them as hard as she could, somehow knocking the wind out of them with her soft excuse for a sword.

Will scrambled to pick up his bean bag from the overgrown grass and curling weeds, catching his breath quickly in the alley where he couldn’t be seen.

And then a sound drew his attention away from the battle.

It was a soft sound. He wouldn’t have heard it if the rest of the party had been so quietly focused on battling one another less than twenty feet away.

But he did hear it, and his head whipped around to find the source of it.

Steve and Billy.

Against the house.

Kissing.

It was like time stood still.

Like Will had been hit by one of Mage El’s freezing bombs.

Steve had Billy pushed up against the side of the house, their bodies pressed flush together.

Steve was clearly propping up Billy with his body, Billy’s mobility cane, the one he had let them cover in stickers, was laying forgotten on the ground.

Billy’s arms were wrapped around Steve’s shoulders, his hands curled in the fabric of Steve’s t-shirt. Steve had his arms wrapped around Billy’s waist, half holding him close, half not letting him fall without his cane.

They were kissing like they were trying to devour one another, and Will realized that the sound he had heard was a moan.

It wasn’t like seeing Lucas and Max kiss, or Mike or El, or even Nancy and Jonathan.

Seeing Billy and Steve,

Will knew he shouldn’t be seeing them.

He knew this was wrong, and people said two boys kissing was foul and bad.

But this didn’t look anything but, well, loving.

The way Steve was making sure Billy didn’t fall while they kissed, the way sometimes they would pull back and smile, their faces never moving more than a few inches away from one another.

One of Billy’s rough hands left its place clawed in Steve’s t-shirt, reaching forward to brush one thumb clumsily down his cheek.

They pulled back from one another, smiling stupidly, still staring into each other’s eyes.

Billy brushed his thumb down Steve’s cheek again, and Steve moved like he was nuzzling into the touch, turning his head to the right, pressing a kiss to Billy’s rough, scarred palm.

It made Will feel like he was floating in space with nothing keeping him down.

Steve pressed a kiss to Billy’s cheek, then his nose, then his other cheek, and Billy’s cheeks flushed and he giggled, a sound that was so foreign to Billy Hargrove it almost made Will rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing the right person.

And Billy smiled, so calmly and easily.

It made his whole face change. He looked like a completely different person.

And Will realized, he’s never actually seen Billy smile like this.

The only times he’d come close, we tight tiny things that never reached his eyes and were dropped within a second or two.

This was a genuine smile, full of genuine happiness, and god -

They’re in love.

They’re two boys, and they’re standing right in front of Will and they’re in love.

They went back to kissing, moving their heads slowly side to side, their mouths opening and closing and Will was so aware of having never kissed anyone before.

“Will, seriously! I’ve been yelling for you-”

Mike stopped talking the second he rounded the house.

He was stalk still, his mouth hanging open like a dead fish at what he saw.

Will’s heart was thundering against his ribcage, and he tried to push Mike back towards the game, pleading quietly at him to move.

And then the rest of the group was joining them. Faces mirroring Mike’s dead fish expression as they stared, open-mouthed, at Steve and Billy.

Will had his back to them, but in the quiet, he could hear. He could hear the soft sounds and the moans, and even the giggles that made his face go hot and his stomach do a whole gymnastics routine inside of him.

Will was staring at each of his friends in turn, pleading with them to just turn right around, and continue on with play as nothing had ever interrupted their battle.

Like they haven’t just stumbled on a huge and dangerous secret.

He went as far as to push Lucas, gently shoving him backward saying go! Go! Under his breath.

The last thing he needed was for Steve and Billy to notice them here. To realize what they had seen. What they know.

And then-

“What the fuck?”

Billy and Steve broke apart, looking towards the entrance of the alley, and seeing all six of the party, staring at them.

Max had been the one to speak, and she was looking at Billy oddly, almost like she didn’t know who he was.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked, her voice quavering slightly.

Billy looked like he wanted to ground to swallow him right up.

Steve scrambled for the forgotten cane, keeping one hand on Billy’s elbow as he crouched down.

The movement made Will’s stomach flop over.

It was practiced.

Once Billy was standing on his own with the cane, Steve approached the kids calmly, his hands raised up like they were all wild animals that might attack at any moment.

“Look, I know how this looks, and you guys can’t-”

“It looks like, you guys were making out .” Dustin’s tone was hollow, and he looked as struck dumb as the rest of them.

“I know, and I mean, yeah. We were, but you need to listen -”

“Steve.”

Steve whipped right around when he heard the murmur.

Billy was standing slumped over against the house, one scarred, shaking hand covering his face, the other clutched so tightly to his cane his knuckles were white.

“Bill, I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You’re okay.” Steve rushed to Billy’s side, holding onto his elbow again, brushing his fingers softly through Billy’s short hair, winding his fingers through the wild curls that were just long enough to form. “I’ll deal with this. It’s okay. They’re not going to tell.” Steve glared at the kids when he said that, as if daring them to argue.

Billy kinda, fell forward, leaning against Steve once again, his face going into Steve’s neck.

Steve didn’t react, still brushing his fingers through sandy blond curls.

“You all know what could happen to us if people found out?”

Nobody answered him.

Truth is, they did know.

They knew the stories about young men being beaten nearly to death. Being run out of town or put in the hospital over nothing but a rumor.

Being gay wasn’t something that was tolerated in Hawkins.

Hell, Will himself has been pushed around and called queer as long as he could remember.

Even by his own father.

“We won’t tell anyone.” Will felt like how Billy looked. Like he was shaking apart right in front of them. “I promise. We won’t. Not anyone.” He could barely get the words out. It was like his jaw had locked up with the rest of his bones.

He thinks it would kill him if anything happened to Billy and Steve over this. They needed to keep them safe.

He needed to keep them safe.

“Yeah. I promise,” El parroted. Steve beamed at them.

Will knew El had been very confused the first time she heard about Ryan Anderson, the high school sophomore that had been humiliated and beaten so badly his family had to leave town six years ago.

She didn’t understand how a boy that liked to kiss other boys was something that merited violence.

Hopper had surprised them all by saying that it didn’t, but some people felt like it did.

Who you kiss doesn’t matter as much as who you are. If you’re a good person, it’s all just extra fodder. But some people like to they’re better than anyone that’s different than they are.

El had called those people bad and that was the end of it.

“Billy, I won’t tell.” Max didn’t take her eyes off Billy while she spoke. “I swear. I’ll never tell anyone. Not even mom.”

Billy’s hand flexed on the handle of the cane, and his knees gave a wobble. Steve kept him upright, leaning over to murmur into his ear.

Will could just barely make out the words I’ve got you.

“I promise, too.” Dustin’s cereal box/lute was forgotten on the grass at his feet. “The party protects each other. It’s one of our laws.”

“Yeah, we stick together. This isn’t different.” Max gave Lucas a watery smile when he spoke up in turn.

Mike was quiet.

It was well-known how much he disliked both Steve and Billy.

All of the kids had some trouble trusting Billy after everything that had happened last summer. Billy didn’t seem to blame them. He kept to himself, even when he moved from his cold room in the military hospital into the Byers’ spare bedroom seven months ago, he was like a ghost moving through the house.

Only Steve could make him come out of his shell in those early days. Only Steve could make Billy join them for dinner and movie nights, take slow walks around the yard with his walker, and later with his cane. Only Steve could make Billy’s shoulders relax from their defensive position up around his ears, and now, it was finally dawning on everyone why.

The kids mostly left him alone, only Max and El bridging the gap and actually speaking to him. Max had been determined to see Billy through his recovery, glaring at him and watching like a ginger hawk while he did his physical therapy, practicing his grip and moving buttons from one bowl to another.

El would sometimes talk to Billy in a hushed voice. She would get him on his own and hush words like Papa and Mama and bad and Billy would have to retreat to his bedroom for slowly decreasing amounts of time.

Nobody but Joyce and Hopper knew what she saw in Billy’s head. They were just informed that he wouldn't be returning home after his two-month stint in the military hospital. Max hard clenched her jaw and nodded jerkily and nobody dared ask any further questions.

He and Will traded a lot of good mornings and tended to generally avoid eye contact when they came across one another in the house.

But none of them hated him, they were just a little weary.

Mike, on the other hand, had some unexplained vendetta against both Billy and Steve and Will found himself willing Mike to be kind in this moment. To not see this as some power over them, or something.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Dustin’s right. We protect each other.”

Steve gave them a smile that was so dazzling and bright, it almost gave off its own light.

His eyes were shining and he gave a watery laugh.

“They really meant it when they said children are the future.”

“Who said?” El asked him.

“I don’t know, actually. Just people, I guess.” Steve shrugged, jostling Billy who was still nestled in his shoulder. “Look, seriously guys, thank you. I can’t even imagine how I would’ve felt if-nevermind.” He cut himself off quickly, shaking his head. “It just means a lot. To both of us.” Steve smiled at them one last time, this time much softer and thoughtful. “You’re good kids.”

Nobody said anything else. They didn’t know what to say to Steve.

“I came back here to get my fireballs. I, uh, I got ‘em.”

Everyone looked back at Will, and, almost like they were coming out of a trance, began picking their makeshift weapons back off the grass, and chattering idly as they went back to the yard in order to continue their battle.

Will lingered for a second, looking over his shoulder at Steve and Billy, who were still wound together.

They were talking softly, and Will was pleased to see Billy lift his head back up, still looking pale and nervous, but smiling at Steve.

He leaned back down and planted a kiss on Steve’s neck, right above the edge of his t-shirt.

Will felt his face go hot, and tugged himself away, going back to the game.

It wasn’t until well after dinner, when everyone else had gone home, that they spoke about it again.

Will. Will! Do you copy? Over.

The static rasping of Mike’s voice through the walkie-talkie was coming from under Will’s bed where he had stashed it.

He quickly turned down the volume dial on the side before answering.

“Yeah, Mike. I copy. Over.”

“We need to talk about today,” Mike said through the walkie. “I mean, did you have any idea? Over.”

“No. I didn’t,” Will said, truthfully. Finding out had made a lot of things clunk into place, but that doesn’t mean Will knew. “Over.”

“It’s just, neither of them seem the type. You know? Over.”

Something about that statement didn’t sit too right with Will.

Before he could respond another voice crackled through the channel.

“This is gold leader joining the conversation to let Mike know he’s being a dick. Over.”

Will laughed. Trust Dustin to listen in on the conversation and come forward to defend Steve.

“Lucas, do you copy, too? Over.” Will waited a moment after he asked.

“Yeah, I copy. I wanted to hear what you all were saying first. I don’t really know what to think about all this. Over.”

“I don’t think there’s much to think about. Steve seems happy. Billy too, I guess. Over,” said Dustin.

Will’s heart swelled with a pride he didn’t quite understand at Dustin’s words.

Outside in the hall, the phone rang.

Will heard his mom scramble to pick it up, calling softly down the hall for Billy, and the unmistakable thumping of Billy and his cane coming to take the call.

He heard his mom scrape a chair over for him and retreat to her room, giving him some privacy.

“It’s just scary, you know? Like, something really bad could happen to them if anyone else found out.” Will thought for a second. “You think anyone else knows? Over.”

“Robin. She was making comments to Steve a few days ago about his secret relationship and I kept asking him about it until he punched me in the arm. She knows. Over.”

“I’m just confused,” Mike sighed down the line. “Steve dated my sister for like, a year. And Billy is always disgusting and flirting with my mom. Or at least, he would do that. You know, before. Over.”

“Yeah, that’s just Billy being Billy,” Max chimed in.

“You have to say over when you’re finished. Over.”

“ Fine, dickheads. Over.”

“That makes sense, but Steve and Nancy doesn’t. Over.”

“Lucas, it doesn’t have to make sense. David Bowie says he likes guys and girls. Billy has, like, three different magazines where he says that. Over.”

“Max is right. We don’t have to understand any of this. They seem happy, and good together, and that doesn’t really concern us. Over.” Will was hoping he could speed through the rest of this conversation. He could hear Billy in the hall, shifting and murmuring something Will couldn’t make out but was dying to overhear.

He had a feeling he knew who was calling.

“But, now it does concern us. We know. And as we’ve previously established, the more people that know, the more danger they could be in. Over .” Dustin almost sounded as though he might cry.

“Then, we can’t talk about it. Not unless we know for a fact that we aren’t going to be overheard. And maybe we should give them codenames. Only call them something like Han and Leia when there’s a chance of someone listening in. Over.”

“I like Lucas’s codename idea, but I’d rather die than call them Han and Leia. Over.”

“Okay, Mike, it was the first thing that came into my head! What, you think you have a better idea? Over.”

“I don’t know. Harold and Maude? Over.”

“That’s stupid, Mike. Clearly, they’re Bert and Ernie. Over.”

Will snorted at Max’s suggestion. He heard Billy coughing wildly in the hall. He listened carefully to him until it died down and he knew it wasn’t a bad one.

“I think we’ve come to an agreement. If we need further discussion, codenames: Bert and Ernie. Okay, my mom wants me to spend time with her tonight. So this is gold leader, signing off. Over and out.”

“I’m going too. Over and out,” Mike said.

“Over and out,” said El, not surprising any of them that she was listening in. She did that a lot. Simply listen to her own walkie, and when asked why she didn’t say anything would shrug and go nothing to add. They only asked that she sign off so that they knew she got whatever information they had discussed.

Everyone followed with their own sign-offs, and Will twisted the top knob on his walkie, shutting it off.

There was a moment of silence out in the hall, and then three beats on Will’s door.

He found Billy on the other side, slumped in the chair under the phone, his cheeks going red.

“Can’t get up,” he grunted. “Can’t reach the hook.”

Will didn’t say anything, nodding quickly and avoiding eye contact as he took the phone, placing it carefully back on the hook.

Billy got stuck in chairs fairly often.

His core muscles had been slashed up worse than anything else, and sometimes he just needed a good pull up.

Will took hold of his wrist, leaning his body weight backward to yank Billy to standing.

Billy kept his weight heavily on his cane, patting Will once on the upper arm in thanks.

“You guys know Steve has one of your little walkie-talkies, right?”

“ What ?”

Will genuinely didn’t know that.

“Dustin gave him one. I don’t know when, but he’s got it.”

“So, uh, so he heard. Everything.”

“And relayed it all to me through an embarrassing amount of tears, by the sounds of it.”

But Will could see that Billy’s eyes were brighter than usual in the dark, and suddenly Will remembered that there had been a wet spot on Billy’s sleeve.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I mean, well, you’re good kids. All of you.” Billy patted him on the shoulder again. “I was shitting myself out there when you found us. Thought for sure one a’ yous would go squealing.”

“Maybe we would’ve. Before.”

“Never thought I’d be grateful for nearly being turned inside-out.”

“And I never thought I’d be grateful for being found dead in the water, but here we are.”

“Yeah, shit’s pretty weird if you stop and think about it for a few minutes. Near-death experiences really put your sexuality in perspective.”

“Is that why you two started dating? Perspective?”

Billy huffed a breath, looking up towards the ceiling. He coughed twice, and Will could pretty much hear his lungs rattle and crackle.

“Yeah. ‘S why we started dating. Both of us kinda realized there’s no sense in feeling like shit about the things that can actually make you feel not like shit.”

“So, you’re in love? Both of you?”

Billy’s cheeks were flooded with color, the deep red spreading all the way back to the tips of his ears.

“I think so. We’re both a little too fucked in the head to say it, but,” he shrugged lamely, not bothering to finish his thought, and looking anywhere but at Will.

He gets it, though.

Fucked up parents make for fucked up kids.

Will considered himself the luckiest person on Earth, and any kinda parallel universe, that he had his mom to stop, and later heal, all the damage his dad had caused.

“Well, I’m glad that you have it. Both of you. I mean, we saw you guys. And after everything, it's good that you’re happy.” And Will meant it.

Even before last summer, he had never seen Billy look the way he did when he was kissing Steve. Look that calm, and relaxed, and that goddamn happy. It really meant something.

Especially to Will.

Because he had never thought of someone looking that happy when they kissed someone else.

He had never thought of a boy looking that happy when he kissed another boy.

Billy surveyed Will for a moment, still leaning heavily on his cane in the hallway.

Will had the suspicion that Billy could see right through him.

“He came to visit me a lot when I was in the hospital. Steve, I mean. I don’t know why he did. It’s not like we were friends or anything. But one of those days, when I was barely awake he started talking about everything that happened those couple days.” Billy shifted closer to the wall, bracing himself with one hand as he lowered himself back into the chair. “The Russians. I don’t know what he’s told you kids, but it wasn’t pretty.”

“He hasn’t said anything. I mean, we all saw how he looked after, so we figured maybe he got in a fight.”

Billy chewed on his bottom lip.

“Look, you gotta swear not to tell any of the others this, but, uh, it was a bit more than a fight.”

Billy was giving him a meaningful look and something churned around in Will’s stomach.

“Torture?”

Billy gave a tiny, shaky nod.

“He started talking about it. Said after that, he started thinkin’ about shit different. Said he thought he was gonna die down there and that nothing would change without him. It was heavy, and I was mostly feeling the same way, and I think that’s why he told me. Knew that I could get it. After that he kept visiting, and I noticed that I didn’t hurt as much when he was there. Or maybe I did, but having him there, squinting at the t.v. ‘cause he can’t see worth a’ shit, or making some stupid comment about a nurse on the floor just made it easier. He makes a lotta shit easier.”

“I think that’s what it should be like. I don’t think love should make things harder.” Will thought of his mom and dad, and how different she acted with Hopper.

Like she didn’t hurt as much when he was there.

“It was hard in the beginning. I mean, before we got together. I thought that he didn’t feel the same way, you know? That I was just being an idiot, feeling like that for my best friend. But then he told me. He’s always been a lot braver than people give him credit for. Anyway, he told me, and it should’ve been fucking terrifying. And I was scared of people finding out. Still am, but it’s like, even if we get run outta town, and everyone we care about turns against us, it’ll be fine because we’re not just me an’ him, we’re us .”

Billy blinked quickly, almost as if he was surprised by his own words.

They clanged around in Will’s head.

We’re not just me an’ him, we’re us.

“You don’t have to be scared, though. I mean, of people finding out. Of turning against you both. We won’t let that happen. Not about something like this.”

Billy gave him a weak smile.

“I guess it makes sense. I mean, you all took me in after killing half the town. Tracks that you wouldn’t throw me out for. Being gay.”

“There are worse things to be than gay.”

“Psycho killer not one of them?”

Will gave Billy as unimpressed of a stare as he could muster.

“That wasn’t you. You forget, I know what it was like to have him controlling me. I know what it’s like to not do anything to stop him, even when you are fighting with everything you’ve got. I nearly killed my mom. I even might have, if I’d been stronger. You fought against him, and in the end, you won. I never could’ve done that.”

Billy just stared at the wall slightly above Will’s left shoulder.

“I killed people, too. When he had me. Led a whole group of people right into a trap. And it still scares me what he did. But I know that it wasn’t me that did it. It wasn’t you that did any of that, Billy.”

“I tell myself that. Hell, Steve tells me that about every five minutes. Just hard to watch yourself doing that awful shit and not be able to tell your body to knock it off.”

Will didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t.

Billy was right. It was a nightmare watching yourself hurt people around you, feeling like you were in the backseat, screaming at yourself to stop.

But Billy had done what Will couldn’t’ve.

Right at that last moment, he stood up to the thing controlling his every move.

Stood up to that horrific flesh monster, adn died rather than let it kill El.

El, who he didn’t even know.

And then Billy’s bedroom door down the hall opened slowly, and Steve poked his head into the hall, swearing under his breath when he saw someone in the hall with Billy and trying to duck out of sight, knocking the back of his head into the doorframe and swearing again.

Billy laughed, a low wheezy laugh that ended in a short coughing fit.

“Real fuckin’ subtle, Harrington,” he choked out.

The door opened once more and Steve stepped out into the hallway, trying to look casual.

“I didn’t realize it was you there, Will. How’s it goin’?”

Billy laughed again, and gestured for Steve to come and help him stand up.

Steve did so quickly, smiling warmly at Billy when he had righted him on his feet, and keeping hold of Billy’s arm.

“Why are you sneakin’ in my window like some kinda perv?”

“Because I wanted to talk. I have a lot of emotions today.” Steve turned to address Will. “You kids are gonna be the death of me. And I mean that in the nicest way I possibly can.”

“Yeah, well. You guys are family.” Will shrugged, feeling very awkward when both Steve and Billy. Looked as though their eyes were overbright. Will panicked, trying to think of an exit strategy before he saw either of them cry.

He had seen them both in too many intimate moments today.

“Um, I’m pretty tired, so I think I’m gonna go to bed. Let me know if you need, uh, help tomorrow. You know, heading of my mom or anything.”

Will turned on his heel and slipped back into his own bedroom.

“Alright, Bert. It’s been a long day and I’m gonna need some help getting into bed. My legs have gone totally stiff.”

“Oh, in no way am I Bert! I’m totally Ernie. You’re Bert. Think about it: you’re surly, and rude, and-”

“Gonna dump you if you don’t shut up and help me go to bed.”

“Spoken like a true Bert.”

#the big schmoop #yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #i thinkg this was for #harringrove for palestine #but i really can't remember #idk merlin donated some money somehweere and i wrote this 💕

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agent--swan · 3 years

Text

Close to Home

In which the reader interrogates a suspect and is reminded of some shit.

One of these days I’ll write a decent Criminal Minds fic.

Well, I’ve got some personal bullshit going on, so here! Have a self-indulgent angst fic! As if I haven’t written enough of these already. (See: @swan--writes.) You can also find this fic on AO3.

Warnings: childhood trauma, emotional/psychological abuse, all offscreen, Hotch is an angsty boy who cares about his team, show-typical violence, Swan-typical language

Words: ~1,420

Other Stuff: reader is gender neutral but was raised as a daughter, you could read this as Hotch x Reader but it could easily be read as platonic

The first time Hotch noticed was on a case.

He wishes that the first time he noticed wasn’t on a case.

He wishes that it had happened on a relaxed day, when there was nothing going on but consults and reports and accounts and logging. He wishes that the rest of the team had been so busy with paperwork that they wouldn’t notice him pulling you into his office to sit down and talk about it. In retrospect, even he could admit that there were benefits to not being at Quantico, and therefore not having a private office to pull you into. There was more time to think about what he wanted to say – to be gentle.

You were on a case somewhere in the Midwest, but neither of you would remember exactly where even two months after it was over. The unsub was attacking teenaged girls. The unsub’s type was specific: ages between fourteen and seventeen, brown hair, brown eyes, most of the girls had freckles, and all of them were chubby. That seemed important to the unsub. It made you see red. You only had one survivor – your only material witness – but she was holding back, feigning memory loss. Morgan was certain that the cognitive troubles she was having weren’t genuine, but he had no way of proving it. That was his pet project while you were on the case.

Reid was on the geographic profile as always. JJ had her hands full with the media circus, teenaged girls always got extra attention. Rossi was leaning pretty hard on the principal of the school that all three of your victims had attended, along with your one attempted victim. Prentiss was covering the guidance counselors. The school had three. She had her hands full. You did not envy her.

That left you to speak with the mother of the attempted victim. Hotch had asked you to handle her before the jet even landed, and you had readily agreed. It was the first time he had handed you your own angle since you’d joined the team just a few months earlier, and you felt more than capable. You were good with mothers, Hotch knew that.

Hotch had never tried to limit your role in investigations, not even in the beginning. He knew that you were capable when you joined the team, and he saw that you were a fast learner. He wasn’t cautious with you, didn’t watch you too closely, didn’t take you under his wing. Hotch let you do your thing and facilitated where necessary. It wasn’t often necessary, you fit right in.

So, Hotch asked you to talk to the mother, and you thought nothing of it. Until you started asking her questions.

It was subtle at first. She was defensive of her daughter, and defensive of her parenting. You understood that, it wasn’t uncommon. What was uncommon was the way she seemed to interpret your questions. “Why did you insist she only apply to in-state schools?” became, in her mind, “Why are you holding her back?” “Why do you limit her social life?” became, “Why are you isolating her?” The less accusatory you tried to sound, the more her hackles raised. It wasn’t entirely unjustified, every time you walked out of the interrogation room you learned something new about the way she had held her daughter back or isolated her.

You started leaving the mother in the interrogation room by herself for longer and longer stretches of time, though never an unprofessional length of time. You were careful about that. It was just that you were finding it harder and harder to catch your breath. The tinnitus in your left ear seemed to be growing steadily worse, and you couldn’t force your hands to stop shaking. That wasn’t when Hotch noticed it, though. He asked if you were alright once but dropped it when you told him you were.

Finally, Rossi cut the principal loose and Prentiss came back to the station. You were in interrogation when the others realized who the unsub was.

Surprise, surprise, it was the mother of the survivor.

Morgan had been right. Your survivor did remember who attacked her and was terrified to admit that it had been her mother. In the survivor’s mind, her mother was a huge, tyrannical figure who could talk her way out of anything. Even a murder investigation.

The rest of the team gathered around the one-way mirror and watched as you and the mother of the survivor – as you and the unsub – zeroed in on each other. Reid wondered aloud if they should intervene, but Hotch insisted on waiting. Hotch watched you closely. Later, he would wonder if he had been watching you more out of interest than a genuine belief that you could get a confession out of this unsub. He would feel badly about that.

You were standing. The unsub was seated. You were leaned over her and shouting. She was watching you with venom in her eyes, and though you held firm, Hotch notice the way you were pressing your hands into the table. The way you slid photographs toward her instead of picking them up and dropping them in front of her; a more aggressive move that any of the rest of the team would have used.

“You couldn’t stand it, could you?” you asked while the unsub openly glared at you, her jaw set, her expression stern. “You couldn’t stand the idea that your daughter would never be you. She was never going to stay at home and be mommy’s perfect little helper, she was never going to forget about the pain you caused her. You gave her everything?” You shook your head. “Well, she took it, and she learned how to be a decent goddamn human, and instead of letting her grow and maybe, I don’t know, being proud of her? You insisted–” you slammed the table right beside a photograph of some of your survivor’s worse injuries “–on making her pay for your bullshit.”

You were shouting right in the unsub’s face when she lunged with an enraged cry. The team moved as one to back you up.

The unsub managed to scratch your face before you could react. You managed to get her hands behind her back and pressed forward against the wall by the time Morgan and Prentiss reached you.

“Get her out of here!” Hotch commanded.

“After everything ungrateful little leech put me through, she got exactly when she deserved,” the unsub spat.

Hotch didn’t spare the unsub more than half a glance, he just went straight to you. You had never heard his voice so soft as when he asked if you were alright. He moved to wipe away some of the blood trickling warmly down your face, but you pulled away before he could and insisted you were fine. Of course you did.

The case ended there, four victims deep but one still alive. It was a relative victory and the team treated it as one. They chatted comfortably on the ride back, but not you. You curled up on the couch at the back of the jet, facing away from everyone. You didn’t have a book, you didn’t have your headphones in. You just lay there with your eyes closed, fighting tears that you tried very hard to blame on your migraine. Your head killed; your heart hurt. As horrific as parents hurting their children always was, there was something about this case – something about a mother and a daughter – that was more painful, more personal, and hit even closer to home for you.

You couldn’t help thinking about how the unsub had killed three people but hadn’t killed her own daughter. You wondered what that meant. You wondered if it meant anything.

You stayed still at first when you felt someone sit down at your feet. They didn’t move for a long time, and when you finally gave in and opened your eyes, you saw Hotch. He looked at you with more concern injected into his normal frown, and there was something in his face that was gentler than usual. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t try to comfort you. He just watched you, watched the tears gather at the corners of your eyes, watched as one made its way down your cheek like blood dripping from a wound. You knew you looked miserable, but you watched him right back, and you knew he understood. He did.

Please reblog if you’re comfy with it

If there’s any interest I’ll make a tags list

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minor-solemnity · 3 years

Text

Truth Will Out

Tag List: @jinxqsu @riddles-wifey@naps-and-lemons @mainlynonsense @cakesarecute

Content warning: Smut, light bdsm, power dynamics and a questionable use of veritaserum

A companion piece to Tender, We Lay Bound

It starts, as most things with Tom do, with a hand on your lower back and his voice, soft and low in your ear, “I’d like to try something tonight.” It’s really incredibly unfair that he chooses the moment when you’re about to walk into Potions to whisper this to you because now you’re going to be distracted all through your assessed brewing of Veritaserum. Judging by the smirk that curls Tom’s lips as he takes his place next to you at the front of the class, he’s fully aware of this. He lays his equipment down neatly in front of him, looking for all the world, like every teacher’s wet dream: prepared, inquiring, and engaged in the lesson. You know him better though, you know that he’s actually the devil incarnate, and is currently enjoying your flustered attempts to pay attention to what Slughorn’s saying about the forthcoming lesson.

Slughorn waves his hand to signal for you all to start gathering ingredients and Tom leaves to fetch the things you’ll both need. You’ve been brewing your batch of Veritaserum for the past month and today will reveal whether or not you’ve succeeded. The mark you get in for this potion will count for a family large portion of your overall grade, and it’s a good thing that you’re partnered with Tom, because whilst you might be one of the best in the class, your mind is so far from the task at hand that you know you’ll be relying on him for most of the more focussed aspects of the brewing today. You also know that Tom is probably cognizant of this fact and planned it as such.

Damn him. If he didn’t make you so weak at the knees, you’d have hexed him by now.

“Was that really necessary?” You ask when he returns, snatching the caladium root out of his hands. You start shredding the delicate roots with a little more force than is probably good for them, and besides you, Tom tsks.

“I’m quite sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you should be a little gentler with those,” He gestures to the roots. “We wouldn’t want to do poorly on this test because you’re a little riled up, would we?” Gods, you hate it when he teases you. Well, no, that’s a lie. Most of the time you love it when he teases you, but usually, you’re not in a Potions class with half your grade hanging over your head.

He chuckles lowly at your expression which is one of annoyance and indignity and spends most of the rest of the class alluding to the plans he has for you whilst expertly managing your potion so you can continue to daydream about what he might mean. It doesn’t escape your notice that Tom pours an extra vial of the Veritaserum when the time comes to present Slughorn with your finished product. He slips the extra into his pocket and raises a finger to his lips before you can question him.

You manage to avoid Tom for the rest of the day, which is good for your sanity for two reasons: firstly, whenever he had spotted you, he had given you a knowing look and found a way to touch you that from an outsider perspective would look entirely innocent but had left you dizzy with anticipation and unable to focus on anything other than the mysterious things he had in store for you. Secondly, and you’ll never admit this to him, your overactive imagination has run away with itself fantasising about the night ahead, and the way that he looks at you makes you think that he somehow knows exactly what you're thinking. You’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of his smirks and wry hums of amusement.

***

Of all the evenings for Tom to be busy with his Head Boy duties, it obviously has to be today. You’re fairly sure he’s planned it like this because you know him well enough by now to know that that he likes it when you’re a little on edge. His desire for control and power over the people he surrounds himself with manifests itself in multiple ways: with his friends, he leads with an iron fist, viewing disobedience as a betrayal; with his professors, he charms and manipulates until he has them wrapped around his little finger; with you, it’s slightly different. Your family, whilst not doing badly, cannot open doors for him the way the Maylfoy’s can, and you’re smart, but not outrageously so, so the impetus to use you for your talents isn’t there either. When Tom tells you that he wants you for your company and your companionship, you believe him. No, with you, his want for control manifests in slow touches, whispered commands, and a desire to see you fall apart in a way you refuse to do for anyone else.

His dormitory is empty when you enter, which is hardly a surprise; his roommates know when to make themselves scarce and to leave you privacy. You take a moment to gather your wits and to try and calm your nerves before you take a seat in the centre of his bed. The minutes tick by excruciatingly slowly, and you fight with your school tie, trying to guess if he would like it if he found you naked and waiting or if he wants the pleasure of undressing you himself. It all depends on his mood which can as mercurial and changing as the tides. You settle on a compromise, more because you’re impatient and excited and restless. You abandon your robes, leave your tie on the desk beside the bed, and unbutton the first three buttons of your shirt before settling back against the soft pillows and try to focus on the book you’ve brought with you.

The door clicks open and shut and you startle at the noise. Tom leans against the doorframe, half-hidden in shadow, a tempting and dangerous sight as he appraises you slowly. You swallow around your nerves, and your throat constricts as he loosens his ties and walks over to you, predatory and sleek, like some sort of wild cat, all tightly controlled power ready to be unleashed. It makes your mouth water.

He more or less crawls up the bed and you let your legs fall open to accommodate him. He reaches forwards and cups your jaw in his hand, his fingers splaying so that he cradles your head and you instinctively press your face into his hand, seeking contact and heat and protection. “Have you been waiting for me for all this time?” He says and you nod, eyes slitting to watch his pleased smile at your response. “Good girl. Are you ready for me?”

“I thought you might like to take care of that,” You murmur and you can’t deny the way excitement leaks into your voice. He hums approvingly and pulls away, just a for a moment as he reaches inside his robe to retrieve a small vial of clear liquid. Your eyes widen slightly at the Veritaserum dangling delicately between his fingers. “Is that what I think it is?”

His smile turns wolfish at the slight tremor in your voice and he cocks his head to one side, the hand that isn’t holding the vial, moving slowly up your calf, up the curve of your knee before flattening across the meat of your thigh and stroking the sensitive junction where your thigh meets your pubic bone. “Do you trust me?” He asks, which isn’t exactly an answer, but you think that’s maybe the point. Tom has a strange thing about trust; he likes it when you prove your loyalty to him. Drinking a potion where you’re not entirely sure what the effects will be is definitely something you can see him enjoying.

Slowly, hesitatingly, you nod and he pushes you back against the pillows. He brushes his thumb against your lower lip and pushes two fingers inside your mouth. Heat and desire lick like flames across your skin and your thighs clench in anticipation and need. He lets you run your tongue over them, suck them slowly before he removes them and pinches your chin to keep your mouth open as he pours a few drops onto your outstretched tongue. “That’s it, such a good girl for me,” He says, barely more than a whisper in the heavy silence that surrounds you. His eyes are dark with want and gratification, and he begins to undo the buttons of his shirt, revealing smooth, pale skin that you want to lick.

He leans over you and kisses your jaw and trails bruising kisses against your neck, humming softly when you gasp. “Do you want me to touch you?” He murmurs into your skin and the potion, which you can now confirm was Veritaserum, works its magic and you feel a compulsion to answer.

“Yes, please, I want—” Your words are cut off by a low moan as he brushes his fingers over your underwear which are already damp with your desire for him.

“So wet for me, already.” He’s playing with you at such a leisurely pace that your pleasure is mingled with frustration but when you try to shift your hips closer he pushes you back against the mattress. “So impatient, tell me, darling, how do you want me to touch you?”

You begin to realise exactly why he wanted to use the Veritaserum because you want so many things, you want his fingers and his mouth, you want him to kiss you, to undress you, to play with you until you can’t think let alone talk. These are not uncommon wants when it comes to Tom, but you’re normally too embarrassed to voice them to him, no matter how much he enjoys listening. Now, with the Veritaserum, it’s as though your voice acts without you telling it to, the words tumbling from your lips unbidden and a deep flush rises up your chest and neck as you whimper, “I want… I want you to take my clothes off now, and I-I want you to, fuck, I want your mouth.” You feel overexposed and vulnerable admitting this to him and your eyes are squeezed shut tight because even looking at him is too much right now.

He rewards you for your forced honesty by giving you exactly what you asked for, peeling your underwear down your legs and burying his head between your thighs, lapping at your folds like a parched man. It’s glorious, it always is and soon your clothes are discarded and you keep babbling away, asking and requesting until you’re incoherent. Even though he is the one acquiescing to your every whimpered desire, Tom is still firmly in control. Every sentence out of his mouth is framed as a question, forcing you to answer honestly even when it makes you blush and squirm. Every one of your fantasies is laid out in front of him and the fact that he could ask you anything and you would be compelled to answer truthfully is never far from your mind.

“Look at you, if only you could see yourself,” Tom mutters, his voice rough with exertion, sweat beading in the dips of his collarbones as he pushes you against the pillows, one of his hands reaching and pinning both of your wrists above your head. “Do you like the sound of that? Would you like to see me fuck you? Do you want to see how wrecked you look?”

“Yes.”

Neither of you lasts very long after that. You cling to him desperately, your legs locked tightly around his waist as his breathing grows erratic. Your entire world is narrowed down to Tom and the feeling of his body moving against yours. Everything feels strangely floaty and distant, yet still incredibly intense as if your mind and body can’t quite comprehend what’s happening and is just rolling in sensation and emotion and feeling. The heat that had encompassed you before he even entered the room grows hotter and the flames of your desire burn brighter. You feel your orgasm build low in your belly, a tight ball of tangled nerves that snowballs and crashes over you as you shake with barely contained need. Tom grips your hip, pulling you somehow closer, and licks a wet stripe between the valley of your breasts, his teeth catch your earlobe and you shudder with overstimulation. He lasts another three strokes before he comes with a shaky gasp, his lips brushing yours.

For a moment after, you just lay there, a tangle of limbs and sweat and body heat. Eventually, though, he rolls off of you, and you stretch your aching limbs before snuggling into the duvet. It’s when he passes you a small vial of a swirling grey-silver liquid that what you’ve just done truly hits you. You swallow the antidote hastily and the empty vial falls from your grasp. You feel suddenly overwhelmed and strangely bereft. Blindly, you reach for Tom, searching him out for contact and comfort and reassurance.

“I… Was that okay?” You ask unable to hide your worry that you’ve somehow let him down. Tom immediately moves to wrap you in his arms, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head.

He tilts your head to face him and his eyes search yours, a small frown marring his forehead. “Darling, you were perfect,” He murmurs, seemingly understanding implicitly what you’re really asking. He tucks you closer and presses his lips to your cheek. Considering what you’ve just been doing, it’s all very chaste. “Come here, let me look after you.”

Feeling slightly more relaxed, you bury your head against his chest and allow him to do just that.

A/N: So this is a companion piece to Tender We Lay Bound. Obviously, you don’t need to read that for this to make sense, but I wanted to explore the power dynamics that would lead to the aftercare in that fic. I wanted to say here that the characters here trust and love each other, but this is honestly pretty bad BDSM etiquette and a seriously under-negotiated kink and scene. Obvs, this is fiction, so whatever, they’re all good and happy, but all kinks should be negotiated and discussed and all scenes should be planned and talked about by all parties involved. I hope you enjoyed and I just wanted to add this because ya know, it's important!

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle fic #minific #harry potter #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle smut #tumblr fic

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alienaiver · 3 years

Text

Some Nekoma boys and their first kiss (with you);

NEXT. with seijoh!

Lev, Kenma, Yamamoto, Kuroo and Yaku!

warnings: none

wordcount: 1,009

content: first kisses, FLUFF, gender neutral reader, small scenarios most of all, kitten is used once (1) bcos kuroo thinks hes being flirty and smooth, pre-timeskip, high school

notes: i was supposed to take a nap but this wouldnt rly leave my head, take these crumps i hope you enjoy them!!!! i might make more with other teams they were rly cute and fun to make!!! some of the lengths r a little different bcos my idea changed from when i started to i finished!! i tried matching them up but alas, they cant be the same kdfhsjkfs have a nice day!!!

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

Haiba Lev

This dude straight up proudly admits to you that he’s never kissed anyone in his entire life, whipping out his phone to show his recent search history containing searches like ’How to kiss someone’, ’Good first kiss tips’, and so forth. You felt embarrassed on his behalf but it also helped to make you less nervous. He then leaned into his backpack that was on the ground by the bench you were sat on, asking with a big grin, “d’you want a mint as well before we do the do?” making you slap him for being so tactless on how to be romantic, followed by a giggle at his antics and a “yes.” While the mints were being consumed, Lev was telling you about the team, ranting on about what he needed to improve and how much fun he had there. Suddenly he stopped, a beat of silence before he asked carefully, “have you swallowed yours yet?”

You swallowed it on accident just because he asked which made you choke a bit. He immediately leaned towards you, his face incredibly close to your own, which made you cough a bit more. After you calmed down a bit he leaned in and kissed you, smiling brightly afterwards saying, “I bet the kiss made it all better!”

Kozume Kenma

You had been going out with Kenma for a while now but nothing had really changed. You sat a bit closer (and even cuddled sometimes!!) when he was playing video games at your house or vice versa. So one afternoon, while he was playing Pokemon on his switch on your couch you finally gathered the nerves to ask, “why haven’t we kissed yet?” Without looking up from his switch he answered with another question, “do you want to?” and you hid your face in your hands, mumbling out a very small yes. You heard him shuffle around on the couch and soon after he gently took your hands and removed them slowly from your face. His gaze was always just a little bit intense, which only served to heighten your heartbeat, as he leaned in closer. Your eyes widened and then immediately shut close the second his lips hit yours, a small peck left on them before he pulled away. He licked his lips and whispered out, “again?” to which you nodded. You hadn’t realized how badly he’d wanted to try and kiss you too!

Yamamoto Taketora

Liking Yamamoto and starting to date him was a challenge on its own. You were the one confessing, which served to make him so nervous around you that for the first while after you started dating, having conversations with him could be such a chore. He kept stammering, blushing, refusing to look at you and sometimes even avoid you. So when you were at the park one day after practice and you both realized the mood was perfect for a first kiss, you ended up grabbing his cheeks forcefully after several minutes of silence and kissing him. Your teeth clashed and you both pulled back in pain. However that made him brave enough to smoothly lean down and gently peck your lips, letting out a, “I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad, sweetheart,” before blushing and pulling away again. It did get easier from there on out, though.

Kuroo Tetsurou

Kuroo had tried to give weird remarks about how he had definitely kissed someone before, wiggling his eyebrows at you during one of your study dates. With both of you being busy with your respective clubs, there wasn’t much time for you to be romantic, so they had become a good way for the two of you to hang out. You only raised an eyebrow at him, trying to ignore his antics to get the question right on the sheet in front of you.

“Kitten, have you ever kissed anyone?”

You could feel the temperature rise in your cheeks at the question, finally realizing what it was he was trying to get at. You shook your head, adamant on not looking up at him. “Oya?” you heard him say before the screech of the chair legs indicated that he had gotten up, presumably to get close to you. “Well, are you interested in having your first kiss then?” You felt suddenly embarrassed and inexperienced in his presence, until you finally looked up at him to see his cheeks and ears burning red, a strange sort of beaming smile on his lips.

You nodded slowly and before you could even blink his lips were on yours, soft and warm. When you pulled away he started laughing a bit, “I’ll count this as my first kiss too, it was much better,” you raised an eyebrow and smiled, “what was wrong with your first one?”

“It was with Kenma when we were 11.”

Yaku Morisuke

When you and Yaku had started dating just a few weeks back, he had been a nervous and stammering mess around you. Being Lev’s study partner and friend naturally meant meeting his volleyball team and one of his favorite upperclassmen, Yaku Morisuke. There had been instant chemistry between you and it only took a few months of showing up to all their practices and matches when possible, that Yaku had gotten the nerve to ask you out. Today they had a practice match against Fukuroudani and they had lost their first set. Yaku was visibly frustrated so during their break you helped give the team water bottles, saving him for last. When you got to him you smiled brightly, handed him a bottle and said, “I know you’re gonna win this, my big strong boyfriend!” knowing it’d give him a little boost being praised, even though it also made him immensely embarrassed. After he drank his water the coach called for them to gather, “I’ll see you then,” he said, about to run when you grabbed his arm and pulled him into a kiss, “for good luck.” Needless to say, he played better than he felt he had in some time.

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wallwriterstuff · 3 years

Text

The Good I Come Home To ||Leon S. Kennedy x Female!Reader|| Part 1

Warnings: Angsty, PTSD Leon being very jumpy and shell-shocked, mentions of sex.

Words: 3318

Summary: Originally posted to my Archive of Our Own Account.

Part 2 can be found here

Leon has kept it very casual with you for months, seemingly oblivious of the growing feelings you harbour. You have no idea just how badly it hurts him to leave you every time until he tries to cut you out of his life completely. You have other ideas. You just have to persuade Leon they're the right ones.

Leon S. Kennedy was a complicated man in many respects, but it was easy to unravel all those complex layers if you started looking at his core values, his sense of purpose. To serve, to protect. Leon was built to be the bodyguard of humanity, the first line of defence between unimaginable horror and the things he loved. Every experience had moulded him into this hard shell of a man, so far from the one people used to know. It had been interesting, really, to see an old friend from the Police Academy approach him and see just how different they had turned out. They both had the eyes of experience anybody in the force acquired over time, but Leon’s were sterner, like an unbreakable stone as opposed to ice you could chip away at and eventually shatter. This old friend of his had a small-town job and apple pie life. He had the white picket fence and the wife who kissed him when he came home to freshly made dinner. His children were doing well at school.

Leon had listened like his life was a whole other world away. It was visible in his eyes, though he carefully kept it off his face, that the comparison between each man actually disturbed him. You hadn’t meant to see of course. It was pure coincidence you’d happened to be in the supermarket, walking down that same aisle. His old friend had hit the barricade you so often hit when you asked. You’d stopped questioning it after a few months of back and forth and the looming threat of losing him became a dark and unbearable burden.

“So er, heard about the huge explosion at Raccoon. Where’d they place you after that?”

“Nowhere. I work for the government now.”

“Oh damn. FBI?”

“Something like that.”

His job was the complicated topic. Classified and bad enough to put a certain brand of darkness behind his eyes when you asked, it was best left untouched by your hands because it was hidden beneath the many layers of the man you’d only ever been allowed to scratch the surface of – literally and figuratively. Beyond his core values, the simplicity of Leon S. Kennedy lay in his needs. He was a flesh and blood man after all. He was guaranteed to need to eat, to do laundry, to shower, to relieve himself. These simple needs were what made him somewhat predictable to you. On his best days, when he text you days or hours before, you were almost guaranteed to be wined and dined. Okay so the wine and dine option was sometimes more like beer and take-out pizza but it was always paid for by him if you bought the alcohol.

When he was feeling a little less than okay, you’d get no outright statement of his desire to see you, but he’d hedge around the topic and wait for you to ask him, like he was afraid to be a nuisance. You’d only get this awkward and prompting behaviour from him an hour or two before he showed up which left you little time to prepare, but a quick shower was always on the cards. In his worst moments, he’d give no warning and simply show up at your house with smouldering eyes that demanded your attention and everything else you had to give him. God help you, you always gave him everything. As simple as his needs were, as his feelings on the matter appeared, yours were much more complicated. Leon S. Kennedy had made it clear from the start when he met you at the bar that fateful night, all chiselled jaw and playful eyes, that nothing serious was to come of this.

It had progressed to a proper agreement when you both seemed to just keep running into each other. You were free to date, if you so pleased, and he’d stop showing up. He’d be gone like dust in the wind, untraceable and impossible to bring back. You didn’t want that. Until the day either of you became tied down you had agreed you were exclusive. You sated each other only. It was hard to keep to that promise all the time when he was away for long periods, but you remained true to your word anyway, and that was how it had stayed for a solid eight months. Leon came back to a bed you kept free just for him and left in the morning like it was no more than a pit-stop on a long and winding road.

You suspected he wasn’t proud of it. You thought sometimes you could see something softer in his eyes, something that made you think he wished for something more than he was already giving you. There were moments his eyes lingered when he said goodbye, times his hands stayed on you a little longer than they usually did. On rare occasions, when he was just a bit too drunk after what you guessed was a bad job, you let him sleep it off with his arms around you and listened to the whimpers in his sleep with an aching heart. Leon consistently let you have his body, gave you the briefest glimpses at the big heart he held so carefully hidden away, but never once did he let you into his mind. As much as you loved being with him, you had never truly been with him at all. You’d never truly connected with him beyond anything physical. It pained you to know you never would. You cared for him too much. You saw the deep pain he carried with him everywhere, and you’d never be able to alleviate that load because he wouldn’t let you.

You had to pause the TV to be sure you’d actually heard anything at all, but when you heard the noise again it was stronger, bolder. Knocking. Glancing at the clock, you turned the TV off with a frown. There weren’t many people who would come knocking at this late hour, and you didn’t know if your heart was in it tonight to let him in when he would forever keep you out. As if on cue, when you opened the door to a dripping wet Leon, thunder rumbled and rattled the open window in the corridor of your apartment block. A small puddle of water had formed on the windowsill, dripping in as the harsh rain battered the glass. Leaving your door propped with the door stop you kept nearby for moments like these, you crossed to the window to close it and lock out the weather. You felt sullen enough without the storm clouds invading your house.

“Leon if you’re here to drink that’s okay but I’m not really up for-“ you cut yourself off, uncertain all of a sudden as to what it was he was here for. His needs were always so simple, the looks and actions associated with them something you had come to learn to recognise without much conscious thought. This was entirely new. Those piercing blue eyes were sullen, fighting between being as hard as sapphire and as soft as calm ocean waves. What was frightening was the depth of the ocean you saw. It was like staring into an abyss of torment. Red-ringed and with whisky on his breath, it didn’t take a genius to realise Leon had been crying and was in fairly bad shape. Hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, he stared at you through those horribly complex eyes, his mouth half open like he wanted to say something but couldn’t force the words out. He was pale, breaths even but heavy, like he had to physically remind himself to huff out each one.

Wordlessly, you took him by the hand. His skin was freezing to the touch and you guessed the faithful jacket had done little to keep the bitter cold from seeping into his exposed skin. Your theory was proven right when his cheeks were just as cold to the touch.

“I…” you thought he might say more but it was like watching a caveman learn to talk. There were only sounds, no words. He was usually very skilful with his tongue but tonight those talents were nowhere to be found. Pushing his jacket from his shoulders you hung it to dry over the back of your sofa, hoping the radiator would do its job and leave it toasty for him when he inevitably put it on to leave you again. You ignored the stinging in your chest at the thought. Leon didn’t need you to be petty right now. Truthfully, you were frightened. Leon’s carefully constructed composure had been shattered by something and you didn’t think you wanted to know what was strong enough to shatter this man’s rock hard exterior and cut him so deeply. He stood dumbly in your hallway, and you gently pushed him to the edge of the sofa to take off his shoes so they wouldn’t traipse water into your home.

“Shhh Leon, just come with me.” You coaxed him back onto socked feet, leading him down the hall to your bathroom.

“No…no Y/N I, I don’t…” he swallowed.

“Do you trust me Leon?” you asked him, keeping your voice gentle like you were cajoling a wild animal into eating from your palm. Leon nodded without question and you smiled slightly. “Then just follow for me now.” You kicked open your door and led him to the edge of the tub, grabbing a towel from the shelving units there and placing it on the sink.

“What are you doing?” he could barely speak above a whisper, looking confused and upset and lost all at once.

“I’m going to run you a nice hot bath before you catch your death. I don’t know how long you were in the rain for Leon but you’re frozen to the bone.” You said calmly, putting the plug in the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. Leon didn’t answer, merely watched you with the eyes of a man so lost in trauma he couldn’t find his way back to the surface world and make sense of the happenings around him. While you waited for the water to turn steamy, you rubbed at his hair with the towel in your hand to dry it. You knew something was incredibly wrong when he let you mess it up like that. There were very few instances you were allowed to touch his hair and you had to always, always comb it back into place or suffer the consequences. Occasionally, you took a break to fill the tub with some of your prized bath oils. Lavender, camomile, jasmine, all your favourite scents from a beautiful kit a colleague had bought you as part of secret Santa last year.

He didn’t comment as the room filled with intoxicating, relaxing scents, nor when you checked the temperature again and told him he could get in when he was ready. He held the towel in both hands, staring at the cotton as if it might hold some answers.

“Thank you.” He mumbled. You nodded once.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” you asked him. He nodded once, but he didn’t meet your gaze. He was lying you were sure. “Okay. Take as long as you need in here, I’ll be about when you feel ready to see me alright?” you promised, leaning up to kiss his cheek softly. Your lips lingered a little too long, but Leon didn’t move away. He closed his eyes as if the contact was all he had wanted and more. As the door closed behind you you heard the soft, muffled sob he tried so hard to bury in the towel, and your heart broke a little more. Something had shattered Leon S. Kennedy and it didn’t sit well with you at all to see him this vulnerable. He needed the space right now to get his mind back in order but once he did, when he was ready to face you, you weren’t sure you’d get an explanation from him. He’d shut down every time you’d ever asked for one before.

He’d woken screaming one night, lashing out so violently that if you had been sat upright there’d have been no way to avoid his fist and he’d have knocked you out cold. When you tried to ask what was wrong, he’d simply snapped at you to leave him be and left your apartment so fast there could have been a fire under his ass. So, what did you do? Did you just not even try? He hadn’t made a move on you, had specifically said no when he saw you heading in the direction of the bedroom. But if he wasn’t here for sex what was he here for? It only added to your anxiety that you really had no clue what he wanted if it wasn’t your body he’d come for, and though part of you thought that should make you angry, another part of you hoped that that meant it was something more that he was after this time. The kind of more you wanted.

No. You had to try for him. You couldn’t let him go on like this. He didn’t have to fight the war in his head alone, not when you were here. At least, if he wanted to go it alone, he could have someone stable waiting with a safety net if he stumbled. For now you’d let him linger and soak in the tub, and you’d make the most out of the ingredients you had in the fridge. If he stayed, he could eat it off a plate. If he didn’t…well, you’d make some in a container in case. Pasta bake had always been your father’s speciality and it had been your favourite as a child, was still your comfort food now. Chicken and bacon sizzled, pasta boiled, and you grated the cheese to the rhythm of your favourite song playing softly on the radio while the milk and butter warmed on the stove. You snagged a piece of bacon from the wok and let the salty flavour burn your tongue.

With your masterpiece constructed and more cheese grated on top, you slid the dish into the oven for it to crisp up and set your timer, setting about washing the utensils next. It kept your hands busy, kept your mind from wandering too much, but even the sudsy water couldn’t quite keep your mind from ticking over. Why had Leon come here in the pouring rain? What had spooked him so badly he’d thought, in his less than coherent state, that he needed to be here in your apartment? Did the fact he’d come to you mean anything at all or did he just happen to be nearby? You put the saucepan a little harder than necessary into the rack when it slipped from your hands, jumping and cursing to yourself at the loud clang it had made.

“Y/N!” Leon almost roared your name in pure, abject terror. Eyes wide you rushed for the bathroom, hands still soapy and dripping water. He was already out of the bathtub, naked and scrambling through his jacket until he came up with a gun of all things, aimed right at you as you burst through the door. A shriek escaped you and you immediately dropped to the floor, hands above your head.

“Leon it’s me!” you begged. Harsh breathing filled the room.

“Where is it?” he demanded. You peeked up at him from below your arms, lowering them slowly. He was half-crouched, eyes wild and fixated on the door that led back to your room. He offered you a hand. “Come on, get up and get behind me, where is it?” he repeated the question more firmly now.

“Where’s what? Leon I – there’s only us here. I just dropped a saucepan.” You breathed. His expression faltered, confusion flooding his features first , then guilt, and finally grief. His eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, held it, exhaled slowly. He lowered his gun after a few more deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking a little like a kicked puppy. You shook your head, slowly pushing to your feet so as not to startle him. His skin was tinged pink, little suds clinging to the ends of his hair. The timer went off in the kitchen and Leon flinched again, hand tensing around the gun. You soothingly placed your hand on his arm.

“It’s just the timer. We’re the only people here Leon, nothing’s going to hurt us. How’s about you dry off and come have something to eat?” you suggested. He blanched at the mention of food and you frowned. “You don’t have to eat everything, just a little bit, you look really pale.” You reached for the towel and held it out to him until he reluctantly nodded and wrapped it around his waist. You left the door slightly ajar and headed for the kitchen to switch off the damn timer. He was so jumpy, so eager to jump to your defence. You plated up a small portion, not wanting to put him off with a large one. You didn’t feel particularly hungry yourself but you’d had a proper meal earlier in the evening, a cup of tea would suffice, camomile and honey would soothe your nerves. Leon had a liking for peppermint you knew. Maybe if he was nauseous that would help him eat? Tea and pasta bake served you sat opposite his place, one hand wrapped around the handle of your mug and the other pulled up to your mouth, your teeth nibbling the side of your nail.

“You’ll make your thumb sore.” He lingered in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he should sit down or run away. You dropped your hand and placed a more welcoming smile on your lips, nodding to the plate.

“Chicken and bacon pasta bake. It’s good.” You invited. Hesitantly, Leon shuffled to the chair and sat down. You didn’t push him to talk. Months of being with Leon had assured you that pushing would only clam him up further, and you wanted to pry him open tonight. With a sinking feeling, you realised it might be the last night you ever saw him. He’d let himself be extremely vulnerable to you already and you weren’t the type of person to see this kind of trauma and let it go unchecked. You’d want to check in on him, you’d want to help him feel better, and Leon didn’t appreciate the questions you’d have to ask to get the kind of help he needed right. He sighed slightly, picking up the fork and taking a small bite. He looked physically sick for the first few mouthfuls, and you made an effort to distract him with small talk about the weather, your day and all its mundane happenings.

He seemed enraptured by your very voice, soaking in every syllable that crossed your lips and mindlessly working his arm and mouth to clear the plate and drain the mug in front of him.

“Can I have a bit more? It’s really good.” He surprised you with his request but you obliged him, spooning some more on his plate.

“If you’re that partial to it you can take some home to.” You said simply. He nodded once, clearing the second portion with ease and looking much better for it. The colour had returned to his cheeks and he looked a little more put together than before. You settled back in your chair, watched him clean his plate and put it in the drying rack. It was a courtesy you’d never have asked for but were grateful for nonetheless. He didn’t turn around though, keeping his back to you and tightening his grip on the countertop.

#resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy #female reader #leon kennedy x female reader #angsty #tw ptsd #part 1

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

No Going Back (part 2)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Request : Hey love, can you please do a part 2 to “no going back” where the reader is with a new partner that treats them better and shows how happy y/n is (after a few months of heart break) & billy is upset and dealing with the aftermath of his actions - regret - or not being able to find someone like reader. I’m in the mood for sad!billy because my heart broke for myself in the last one lmfao, they could meet again with y/nS new partner idk go crazy babe!

A/N: Welcome to the Land of Pain. Enjoy the deep rooted sadness and heartache lmao why am I so invested in Sad!Billy? Like really, let me give him a hug or something 😂 this one kind of took on a life of its own and I couldn't help the comforting at the end lmao sue me.

Also, I keep the description of the new partner vague so you can imagine whoever you want. Personally I was thinking Charlie Hunnam because 👀🙃 but this way you can picture whoever.

Warnings: cursing, some angst, heaps of sadness and despair (for Billy), very much Sad!Billy. Lil bit of fluff too

You never thought you'd find happiness, not after Billy. But sometimes you find things when you least expect it, or they find you. You'd spent months healing after what happened with Billy and at times you honestly thought the pain wouldn't stop. The saving grace was the fact Billy actually kept his distance and didn't contact you. At first you weren't sure if that hurt more or not. But the clean break allowed you to heal and you knew deep down that's why he did it. It had been hard knowing he loved you, that he wanted to fix things. If he had just been an asshole then it would have been easier to get over him. You could hate him. But you couldn't. Part of you would always belong to him but you had to move on. And you did.

Jacob was a great guy and you'd met through a friend. He took you on dates, doted on you. He was there and he listened and he treated you amazingly. And for the first time since Billy, you hadn't compared Jacob to him. Previous dates were always measured up to Billy but when you met Jacob, you didn't even think about your past lover.

You'd been with Jacob now for 4 months, it being half a year since the split with Billy. Everything was looking up for you and you finally felt like things were on the right track. You still thought about Billy sometimes. Wondered if he was okay, what he was up to. You couldn't help it. You just hoped one day he'd find happiness too. It hurt that he hadn't allowed that with you but you hoped he'd let it happen with someone one day.

-------

Billy had experienced pain in all forms in his life. The pain of abandonment from his mother, from the shit in the group home, being in the marines and everything after. He'd always dealt with it. Picked himself back up and moved on. He got back up every time and was always stronger for it. But this time… this time he was weak and he couldn't do a damned thing about it.

Losing you, all through his own bullshit fault, had been by far the worst thing he'd ever been through. The worst kind of pain. Being shot in the heart would hurt less than the agony and waking hell that had been his life since you begged him to leave your apartment 6 months ago. It felt like only 6 days ago yet 6 years at the same time. It was a never ending spiral of darkness and despair.

And it was all his own fault. His inability to just be a normal fucking human with emotions had ruined the best thing he ever had. He deserved this pain. He deserved every bit of it. He'd done a lot of bad shit in his life but this was the worst. He couldn't get your face out of his head. How you looked at him with such betrayal and hurt. And he'd caused that. He'd caused those tears to stream down your face, he'd caused that pain. So he'd wallow in his misery and take every inch of pain he was in because he deserved it all.

He'd thrown it all away, and for what? The sex with the other women hadn't even been good. He hadn't enjoyed it because it wasn't you. And then after, the guilt would eat him alive. But he kept doing it. He couldn't stop himself because he was overwhelmed. He loved you. He actually fucking loved you and he didn't deserve you at all. He never thought he'd love anyone. Didn't think he was capable of such a thing, yet here he was. And he never thought in a million years that anyone would ever love him. His own mother didn't, so why would anyone else? He kept replaying over and over when you told him you loved him that day. The pain had ripped through him like C4. He'd fucked up so badly and he couldn't fix it. He'd finally had a taste of what it was like to be loved and to love someone and it was snatched away in a heartbeat because of his own actions.

He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. He lost some weight and was well aware of the dark circles around his eyes. He'd taken to drinking every night just to numb the pain and hope your face didn't haunt his dreams. He hadn't even slept with another person since. He couldn't bring himself to. He was a mess. All he wanted was you and he couldn't have you.

------

You and Jacob were on your way to a little cafe you frequented for lunch. You felt happy, radiant even as you both walked hand in hand. The weather was warming up and the sun bathed you in its warm glow as you walked. Everything felt right. Just as you got to the outside of the cafe, his phone rang.

"Shit, I need to take this, babe," he sighed. You smiled up at him, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"It's okay. I'll see what they have today," you smiled. He gave you a wide smile, kissing you softly before he stepped away a bit to answer the phone. There was no anxiety. No wondering who he was talking to. You felt settled and content.

You glanced through the window of the cafe where they displayed fresh baked sweet treats. They had different ones every day and you pressed up against the window, eyes glancing around as you tried to decide if you wanted a glazed donut or a cinnamon bun. Probably the donut.

"Y/N?" The shocked voice felt like a splash of cold water. You knew that voice anywhere. You turned around to see Billy, wide eyed as he stared at you. He looked… oh Billy. Your heart ached at the state of him. He was still in his fancy suit with his hair neat and slicked back. But he looked exhausted, his dark eyes sad. It hurt.

"Hey, Billy," you murmured with a soft smile. You thought about what it would be like if you saw him again. You thought it would bring all the pain back. The anger. But you were hurting for a different reason. You were hurting for him this time.

He glanced at the floor, looking somewhat out of place and his usual confidence seemed to be left at home. When he glanced back up at you, looking at you through his lashes, he looked like a lost boy.

"You look good," he said quietly. You smiled sadly, shifting where you stood.

"You look tired," you countered softly. He chuckled, the noise hollow sounding and you'd be a liar if you said you didn't miss him. Part of you wondered if you could have stayed friends but you didn't think it would help.

"Yeah, I'm uh… not sleepin' so good," he shrugged like it was nothing and you frowned.

"Billy-" you started, only to be cut off by Jacob coming back over and wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Sorry, I'm done now," he smiled down at you, kissing your cheek. It wasn't done as a display of possessiveness like Billy would have. It was simply affection. But you saw how Billy's jaw clenched, eyes hardening as he looked at him.

"Uh… Jacob, this is Billy. Billy, this is Jacob," you said carefully. You didn't need to say that Jacob was your boyfriend. It was obvious and you didn't want to rub salt in Billy's wounds. Jacob's brows raised a little, arm moving from around you as he looked at Billy.

"Oh. It's a pleasure to meet you, I've heard a lot about you," Jacob said amicably as he extended his hand. Billy glanced at it like it was a poisonous snake before glancing at you. You gave him an imploring look and he swallowed thickly before shaking Jacob's hand.

"Nothin' good, I bet,'' Billy smiled bitterly. Ouch. That hurt.

Jacob looked at Billy hesitantly with a small smile.

"Actually… Y/N had nothing but good things to say about you. Except for how it all ended but… there were a lot of good things," Jacob said softly. It made you smile. You'd told him everything about you and Billy and he'd never seen it as an issue. And the fact he was trying here really meant something to you.

Billy looked taken aback for a moment before his face schooled back to the mask of indifference he'd wear often. He glanced at you then at Jacob again as Jacob gave your hand a squeeze.

"I'll get us a table and give you two a minute," Jacob murmured to you. It wasn't lost on you how he purposely didn't kiss you like he normally would. He wasn't petty. He wouldn't hurt Billy or rub it in his face.

Once Jacob was inside you looked at Billy as he glared off to the side, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Billy… I'm sorry, I…" you frowned. You wished he hadn't found out this way. Not when you saw how badly he was hurting. He chuckled humorlessly and shook his head.

"Don't … Don't do that," he bit out.

"Do what?" You asked with a frown. His obsidian eyes turned to you then, full of such pain and sadness that it felt like you'd been punched in the gut.

"Don't… apologise to me. I don't deserve shit," he muttered, jaw clenched.

You took a step closer to him and he looked down at you, rolling his shoulder a little.

"Look… you fucked up. It happened. But I don't … I don't hate you, okay? I never could. I don't want to see you hurting like this," you lamented. His lower lip wobbled a little before he clamped down on it with his teeth, glaring at the floor with glassy eyes.

"You should hate me," he replied tensely.

"Well I don't. I forgive you. I don't know if that's helps or anything but… you need to forgive yourself, Billy," you said as you moved closer, looking up at him. His eyes met yours for a moment before he looked away.

He was so tense, hands in his pockets as his shoulders were set and his body was rigid.

"Does he uh… he treat you good?" He asked, voice strained as his eyes drifted to the window of the cafe before back to you. You nodded, worried if you vocalised it that it might hurt him more. He scrunched his nose a little, his shoulder rolling again.

"He make you happy?" He asked quietly. It sounded like it brought him great pain to even ask and you looked away with a sigh.

"Billy…" you frowned, not wanting to answer.

"Just… please. Does he make you happy?" He asked again, a little firmer this time. You met his eyes as you nodded.

His jaw ticked as he nodded stiffly, glaring off to the side.

"Good… good, you deserve to be happy," he muttered softly.

"So do you," you replied sincerely. Black eyes snapped to yours then as he scoffed. He opened his mouth to no doubt say something fueled by self hatred but you spoke before he had the chance.

"I'm serious. I want you to be happy, Billy. You need to allow yourself to feel things and one day you'll get that. You'll find happiness one day," you implored.

He blinked at you for a moment, his eyes shining from moisture.

"I want that with you. And I know… I know I can't. I know we can't fix this. But I just… I don't think I could find that with someone else," he admitted softly. He looked so sad and it was wounding you. You hated seeing him so vulnerable and lost like this. It was so far from the Billy you knew and loved. This Billy was the Billy that woke from nightmares about the group home or from when he was overseas. The Billy you'd comforted many times before. It always hurt you when this side of him was out.

"There'll always be a part of my heart with your name on it, Billy. I'm sorry it didn't work out but it doesn't mean I don't care at all," you breathed. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a shaky breath at your words.

"This… this is why I never deserved you. You're too good for me, too kind and… caring. I don't deserve somethin' precious like you. I don't deserve anythin' good," he muttered bitterly. You knew this spiral well. How he got in his own head and went down the rabbit hole of hating himself.

You took another step towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You just wanted him to be okay. To stop hurting. He may have hurt you, broke your heart, but you didn't want this for him. You wanted to comfort him and this was the only way you knew how. You felt his arms wrap around you, one fisting your shirt and the other in your hair as he held you close. He buried his nose in your hair and inhaled deeply.

"Stop hating yourself. Do it for me. I hate seeing you like this," you whispered forlornly as you held onto him tightly.

His hand in your hair tightened a little and you could feel a slight tremor running through his body.

"I'm a mess without you," he lamented, slightly muffled by your hair.

"You need to allow yourself to move on," you replied softly. You went to move away but his arms tightened and you allowed him to hold you a moment longer. He'd called you his anchor once. You hadn't really believed him but now it seemed like he was floating away and you were the only thing tethering him here.

He pressed a kiss to your hair before releasing you but you didn't step back too far as you blinked up at him.

"Maybe we… maybe we can…" he trailed off uncertainly and your chest constricted painfully. You really hoped he wasn't going to ask for another chance because shooting him down in the state he was in would kill you.

"I wanna… could we be friends? I won't… I won't get in the way or anythin', I just… maybe if I could text you sometimes? Just to know you're okay?" He asked hesitantly as his dark orbs flit to the window of the cafe before back to you.

You weren't sure if it was a great idea. You didn't know if it would help if you were honest.

"Billy… I don't know if that's a good idea," you murmured sadly. His eyes bore into you, pleading and desperate.

"Please? I know that I-I can't have you. Not the way I want. But I need you in my life, even just as a friend. You not bein' there at all… it's left a gaping hole and I…" his hand went to his chest, rubbing over where his heart was.

"Okay, you can text me if you need me. But only as friends," you relented, stating the last part firmly. A small smile graced his face then, eyes lighting up ever so slowly. You hoped this wouldn't be a bad idea.

"I appreciate it. And… as much as it hurts… to see you with… Jacob. I am happy for you," he said Jacob's name like it pained him but his eyes were sincere as he looked at you. It made you smile a little.

"Thank you, Billy," you murmured. He gave you another small hesitant smile as he nodded.

"I'll uh… let you get back," he said with a nod. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around him again, around his middle this time as your head rested on his chest. He didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you tightly. His hand going to your hair like it always did. You could hear the rapid thumping of his heart in your ear.

"It was good seeing you," you said softly. You meant it too.

You always thought it would be difficult seeing him again, and it was in a way. It hurt seeing him this cut up about it. But it wasn't how you imagined it would go. You weren't angry at him, you didn't feel the same pain you did on that day. The only pain you felt was for the broken man in holding you. You wanted to comfort him and you'd missed him. He'd been a constant in your life for a while, even before you officially got together.

"It was good seein' you too," he sighed, squeezing you a little. When you stepped back, he gripped your face and for a moment it startled you. But he planted a firm kiss to your forehead before stepping back. Once again, you allowed him that. You couldn't help it.

You gave him a soft smile and he returned it with a sad one of his own. You forced your feet to move as you made your way into the cafe. Jacob was sitting there patiently waiting at a table with a coffee and a donut waiting for you. You grinned at him as you sat down and he leaned over to kiss your cheek.

"Everything okay?" He asked softly, stroking your cheek.

"Yeah," you sighed. You really hoped Billy would forgive himself for everything that happened. He didn't need to punish himself like this.

"Good… he'll get over it one day. Just give him some time, babe," Jacob murmured as if he knew what you were thinking. You gave him a warm smile as you laced your fingers with his.

You hoped he was right. You hoped that being friends with Billy would work and maybe help him. You still weren't sure if it was a good idea or not but he seemed adamant it would help him. It was hardly how you ever imagined it would go but it was how the cards fell. All you could do was wait and see what happened and hope that maybe you could help Billy through it. It was kind of upside down and all ass upwards. Helping the man that broke your heart get over you. But you still cared about him and you'd do whatever you could to help him through it.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine

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talatomaz · 3 years

Text

chased away by shadows | hailey upton x fem!reader

a/n: i didn’t include a love confession but i did reference it. after 8x11, we saw how hailey reacts to those words and honestly, i get it bc i’m kinda the same so i just changed it up a bit.

not a huge fan of this and there’s not as much hailey x r as i initially wanted but oh well, hope you still like it anon

(feedback/positive comments are appreciated)

requested by anon: “hi! can i please request a hailey upton x intelligence love interest reader please? it’s been a really rough case and reader is quite depressed and hailey comes over and reader ends up falling asleep safe and warm in hailey’s arms and in the morning there is a love confession maybe? hope that makes sense, thank you x ”

warnings: mentions of assault, death, murder. usual canon violence

word count: 1.6k

masterlist | navigation | request rules

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Upton and I will take the front. Burgess, Atwater, secure the back.”

You ordered, whispering into your comms.

It had been a rough couple of days.

The Intelligence Unit had caught a rape and murder case with seemingly no witnesses or leads to the sick bastard who’d done this.

Like the rest of your team, you were damn near losing the end of your rag at the lack of leads and it didn’t help that this brought up some unwanted memories from your past.

You shrugged them off, not wanting to get emotional at work but it was difficult. Especially when you had no idea who you were looking for.

But you’d managed to catch a break as one of your CIs had contacted you, telling you that they had heard about some gang member who’d been boasting about “having fun with a chick before popping her off”.

After some further investigation, you’d managed to identify the man. He had a rap sheet about as long as your arm, including prior battery and assault charges.

It was only when Halstead had found out that he was holed up in a supposedly vacant property that you’d all geared up, armed to the nines because you knew the kind of heat this gang carried.

“On my mark.” Halstead said into your comms.

He waited a few moments for you all to get into position. You were standing behind Hailey, your hand on her arm, alert and ready to conduct your search.

“Be careful.”

“You too.” You replied softy to your girlfriend.

You’d been dating for the past 6 months, having fallen into bed one night after a evening out at Molly’s. You’d both agreed to keep it a secret as it was a one-time thing but what you both didn’t realise at the time was just how much you liked one another.

It had soon become a habit. The two of you sleeping together after everyone gathered for a social call at Molly’s until one evening, Hailey told you that she liked you and wanted the two of you to be more than just sex.

You were surprised to say the least because there was never any indication that she liked you. In fact, you thought she was out of your league considering how beautiful and smart she was. But you decided to take the leap and you were so glad you did because you loved being with her.

Not that you’d told her those words yet, mind you.

It was a tough thing to say, for you anyway, especially after your past alongside the lack of any emotional attachments with your parents. And you knew Hailey had her fair share of trauma too, the majority of which you learned after you and Ruzek overheard her telling a suspect they had in interrogation.

And although your relationship wasn’t without its flaws, it had pretty much been smooth sailing since the moment you’d got together. No unnecessary drama or bullshit.

That was the last thing the both of you needed in this type of job.

“Now.” Halstead ordered so you gave a quick nod to the blonde before yelling “Chicago PD!” as Hailey kicked the door down.

There were a few offenders in the house who tried to run when you’d entered and as Hailey and the rest of the team went to secure them, you made your way up the stairs to see if there was anyone else hiding out.

Your arm was extended, gun clutched carefully in your hand, finger just next to the trigger, ready for any indication of movement. Reaching the landing at the top of the stairs, you entered one of the bedrooms. As you stepped through the door, someone jumped out and hit you in the head with a bottle. It shattered upon contact with your skull and the force threw you as you groaned in pain.

You began fighting the male, who weighed at least 100 pounds more than you, so it was no small feat. You wrestled with the gun he’d aimed at you before kicking him in between his legs and throat punching him.

As he coughed to catch his breath, you grabbed your gun that had fallen out of your hands and aimed it at the man crumbled on the floor. Ignoring the way blood seeped from your wound and down your face, you yelled, “Chicago PD. Stay down or I will drop you.”

Staring down at him, you realised that it was the man you’d been looking for and when he looked up at you with a sinister smirk on his face, you wanted nothing more than to shoot him where he lay.

But you had more self control than that so, instead, you kept your gun trained on him and called downstairs for back-up.

In less than a minute, Hailey and Jay were right beside you. Jay handcuffed the suspect and you re holstered your gun.

“Baby, are you okay?” Hailey asked frantically, her hand gently cupping your face as she examined the cut on your forehead.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You said, releasing the breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding.

“Are you sure? You’re bleeding pretty badly.”

You winced when Hailey touched the wound.

“Shit, sorry.”

“It’s fine. Come on, let’s go.”

✧── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

After apprehending the suspect, Hailey had forced you to be checked out by one of the paramedics who’d arrived to take care of one of the offenders that Kevin had shot. They’d cleaned and stitched the wound and told you to take some paracetamol for the pain.

Now you were currently watching Voight and Halstead take lead on interrogating the man who’d attacked you at the house.

The man was so vile that you had to force yourself to not jump through the two-way glass and smack him silly. He’d copped to the murder but wouldn’t admit to the rape, sitting there with a smirk on his face.

“She wanted it rough. She was a slut. I just gave her what she wanted.”

The words continued to ring in your ear as they were words that you, yourself, had once been told. Forcing the bile back down your throat, you watched as Voight moved to stand behind the man, his hands on his shoulders.

“I’d watch your mouth if I were you.” Voight said, the threat lingering behind his words.

Your hands clenched into fists as he continued to speak.

“I ain’t gonna apologise for banging that whore. She got what she wanted.”

You could feel your anger boiling until it threatened to consume you so you left the viewing room and briskly walked to your desk.

You grabbed your coat that was hung on the back of your chair and ran out of the precinct; ignoring how your girlfriend’s eyes bore in your body as you hurried out of the building.

She decided to let you go, knowing that you needed space for a few hours.

✧── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

When you got back to your apartment, you fell down onto your couch, picked up one of the throw pillows and screamed into it, your frustrations coming to a blow.

You went from screaming to crying out of anger and old pain until you felt a hand on your shoulder that startled you. You hadn’t even realised Hailey had used her key to enter your apartment.

“Oh, baby.” Hailey murmured when she saw how red your eyes were.

She placed a soft kiss on your cheek and went to your freezer to grab an ice pack. She wrapped it in a table cloth and gently rested it over your eyes, the coolness soothing your swollen eyes immediately.

You tried to take the ice pack away from her but she simply tsked at you; too tired to fight, you instead relished in her taking care of you.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, finally gathering the courage to speak.

“It’s been a rough couple of days, honey. No one blames you for your reaction.”

“That’s not why I’m so...so angry and why I’m like this.” Your voice barely louder than a whisper but Hailey still heard you.

“What do you mean?” The blonde asked, furrowing her brows in concern. But her eyes told you that she already knew what you meant and that made your heart hurt.

“I just-I. It was a long time ago, back in high school. I’m over it but cases like these just bring it all back up, you know?” You sighed, deciding to remain ambiguous whilst knowing full well she knew exactly what you were referring to.

“Oh, baby,” Hailey repeated as she wrapped her free arm around you and pulled you close.

“The guy ended up confessing not long after you left. Voight stuck him in the cage and he ended up having a change of heart.” Hailey told you as she placed soft kisses on your forehead.

Your derived snort was muffled as your head was buried in Hailey’s chest but she heard you and chuckled in response.

“You’re safe now, y/n. You’re safe with me.” Hailey whispered, breaking the peaceful silence that had filled the room.

Her words brought a sense of calm to you as you sighed contently in her arms.

Gently removing the ice pack from your eyes, she put it on the table before lifting your chin up with her finger, bringing you in for a deep, reassuring kiss.

“I-I’m glad you’re in my life, Hailey” You said, catching yourself before you said those three words. You weren’t ready to say them aloud just yet and you had a feeling that your girlfriend felt the same way.

The blonde smiled knowingly, kissing your lips once more before hugging you close to her as you both got comfortable on the large couch you were still on.

“I’m glad to have you in my life too.”

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