#jesus fucking christ I had forgotten how goddamn normalize it was

[nsharks]

Dad Ghost resisting the urge to beat up a 7 year old after finding out they’re mean to his kid

ghost resists the urge to beat up anyone who picks on his kids

It’s late. Your eyes are fluttered shut already, but you’re laying your head on his chest and mumbling sleepy, random updates to him. Pieces of information you might’ve forgotten to share over the phone. He’s only been back for a day, but with two kids and an unplanned third on the way, there are so many little things to fill him in on.

“Did she tell you about that boy at school?”

A muscled chest stiffens beneath you. His fingers pause in your hair and he groans.

“Jesus, no. What boy now?”

Your daughter is only five, yet she is quite the talker, constantly sharing with you two details about all her friends and school activities. Simon always did his damned best not to say anything… wrong whenever she mentioned the boys at school. He understood it was normal for her development, her curiosity (yeah, yeah.) That didn’t mean he didn’t hate the growing idea of it, and that he didn’t let a few things slip just to you.

But this time, you sigh and prop your chin on his chest. “Well, he’s this new boy,” you murmur. “And he’s two years older than her-“

“He’s… what?”

“Listen, Simon. This isn’t one she fancies.” You sigh and touch the side of his inked arm gently. “He was… picking on her a bit this week. In the school yard-“

“Picking on her?” Simon repeats, words slipping out slow through tightening teeth. You see a scowl furrow. “How?”

“Well, she told me that he was teasing her about her hair on Monday. But then it turned into him calling her some names-“

“What the fuck?” You feel him shift underneath you, carefully lifting you off his chest only so he can sit up straight. Roughly now, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” you mutter softly. Slipping a hand in his cropped hair. “And I already had a word with her teacher about it.”

“And?”

“She says she’ll keep an eye on it.”

“Keep an eye on it? Bloody hell.” His hand clenches. “What’s the kid’s name, huh?”

“Simon-“

“Maybe I’ll keep a goddamn eye on it-“

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Calling our girl names? Christ, m’gonna fuck him up.”

“You will do no such thing,” you whisper firmly, fitting a hand over his arm. “Let’s just see if it gets better. If not, you can talk to her teacher.”

“M’gonna talk to her damn teacher tomorrow, anyway.”

Your hands gently guide him back to laying down, but his scowl doesn’t soften.

“Gonna talk to this kid, too.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“You were just talking about hurting him.”

Through flared nostrils, he sighs. Loops his arms back around you and softens a bit.

“I won’t, I won’t,” he mumbles, pressing a firm kiss to your hair. “Just gonna talk to him, yeah?”

“How about you just talk to your daughter instead?” You lay your head back to his chest, hearing the steady pounding of his heart. “Talk to her about standing up for herself, okay?”

And he does. Simon has a long talk with his little girl the next day before school, perhaps not in the way you meant for him to. Right here, dove, he murmurs to her quietly so you can’t hear, grabbing her little hand and guiding it gently to his nose. Go for him here if he bothers you again, alright?

#ask #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #dad ghost

[kieransometimesthinks]

I joined a lot a lot of new Facebook groups (yes, go ahead and judge me. But it’s my most enjoyable social media platform since muskrat ruined Twitter.) recently so my feed is less curated than normal.

And holy. Fucking. SHIT. I had forgotten how some leftists gleefully weaponize “progressive” ideals at the slightest provocation just to be an absolute cunt to other people online.

Like Jesus fucking Christ. You’re in a fucking leftist group. I think you can give people some benefit of the doubt instead of going straight to scorched earth “you’re a fascist directly destroying the world” over the absolute mildest, dumbest shit possible.

Like believe it or not, it is actually impossible to be 100% ideologically pure in every single aspect of life and some people are going to navigate that differently than you because the real world operates in shades and grey rather than the black and white you project onto everything.

Some of these bitches tear into people who mostly are with them more than they tear into the people actually creating the problems. Like channel that energy into literally anything more productive. Call your representative. Collect signatures for local petitions. Hell, cyber bully politicians and corporations. ALMOST ANYTHING WOULD BE BETTER AND MORE PRODUCTIVE THAN SPENDING HOURS EVERY GODDAMN DAY BEING A RUTHLESS ASSWIPE TO PEOPLE ONLINE WHO ALREADY AGREE WITH LIKE 95% OF YOUR VALUES.

It’s like some people only adhere to “progressive” values to have an ideological excuse to be an absolute monster to other people for no goddamn reason. Personally I think people like that are 100% responsible for the “extreme leftist to alt right” pipeline that occasionally happens. When your sole motivation is getting to be a dick while feeling self righteous, then it really doesn’t matter what political side you choose.

[leelei1980]

Part 2 - Made for you

Phone Call🌶️

🛑Mature 18+ minors DNI 🛑

Eddie

I looked at my watch, 7:00. Finally, my favorite part of the day. Time to call Veronica.It had been a week since I left her at her apartment in Illinois, and I missed her so goddamn much. We had been practically inseparable since we met last year and I had forgotten what my life was like before she was in it. It was quiet, and boring.

No more band practice now that Jeff and Scotty had gone away to college, Nancy was gone, and Robin, though not far away was living on campus and we would only see her now on weekends. That left Harrington and the Gremlins. Dustin, the little shit and found himself a girlfriend at Computer Camp so spent most of his nights chatting with Suzie and Lucas spent most of his time with Max. It was interesting watching their relationship bloom. Max was at times a tough person to read and Lucas would come to me of all people for advice, which Steve hated. Poor Mike, still alone but no longer pining for my girlfriend, now had a crush on another girl that he met at the arcade and if he wasn't a complete dumbass might have a chance with her if he could keep his cool. They were all sophomores this year , a little more mature and a little more independent. I was proud of them.

I picked up the phone beside my bed and dialed the number I had now memorized and waited for it to ring.

Once, twice," Hello?"

My heart fluttered at the sound of her voice. I missed her so goddamn much. " Hey Sweetheart."

" Hey Baby! I was afraid I was going to miss your call, I was in the shower, not that I wouldn't have called you the minute I got out but I know you would have worried if the phone kept ringing and ringing. Jesus Christ I'm rambling, I miss you so much Eds."

I smiled to myself." I miss you too baby." So much it hurts, but I could never let on."How was your day today? Finding your way around campus alright?"

" Yeah, it's still a little overwhelming, but I'm getting into the swing of things. It's just all about timing, figuring how long it takes me to get from point A to point B. My Professors are great. Still getting use to the new routine, I keep telling myself it's just the new school jitters, pretty soon it will be my new normal . " She sighed. " It's so quiet and lonely without my little Metalhead around."

" I know Ronnie, it's so fucking boring without you here." I shuffled through the Polaroids of Veronica that I kept beside my bed, stopping at a sexy one that we took the day that I gave her her promise ring. On her knees, looking up at me with those big dark eyes, head tilted, breasts fucking popping in that sweet purple dress. "I'm looking at a picture of you right now."

" Are you? A sweet one or a sexy one?"

" A sexy one.

" Oh, I should have known. I have a picture of us right beside my bed. I look at it every night before I fall asleep. I miss having you in my bed."

" I miss having you in my arms. I miss the smell of your hair, the softness of your skin." I sighed." You said you just got out of the shower?"

" I did. Right now I'm sitting on my bed putting lotion on to keep my skin soft for you baby. "

" Are you wearing pajamas ?"

" Nothing but a towel."

“ Your killing me."

"I feel so silky and smooth. My hands are just gliding over my skin. Oops, my towel just fell off."

" No it fucking didn't, did it really?" I closed my eyes, picturing her sitting on her pink comforter, hair twisted up in a towel, completely naked. I swallowed hard.

" Yup, just slid right off. "

" Your such a fucking tease."

"What are you wearing?"

" Sweatpants, but let's not talk about me right now."

She giggled. " I bet there is a sizable bulge in those sweatpants right now." She paused." I wish I was there to see it, to put my hands around it-"

" Are you aware of what your doing to me right now?"

" What baby?" She cooed  ." What am I doing to you?"

" Your making me so goddamn hard right now-"

" My poor baby. Well if it makes you feel any better the thought of you getting hard is making me so wet-"

" Nope, didn't make me feel any better. Jesus Christ, it did the opposite of make me feel better." I shifted my pants around my aching erection.

" Aww, I wish I was there to help you, to touch you, to wrap my lips around you-"

I groaned." Fuck Princess, your going to make me blow my load."

" That's the point."

I couldn't take it any longer, I slid my hand down the front of my pants." I wish you were bouncing up and down on my cock right now."

I heard a moan on her end of the line and I thought I was about to fucking lose it."You'd fill me up so good baby-"

" You fucking know it Princess. I would fuck you so hard-"

There was a knock at my front door and I nearly jumped out of my skin."Holy shit!"

" Are you close Eds?" I heard her ask, practically panting into the phone.

" Uh, yeah."

" What's wrong?"

" Someones knocking at my door." I sighed, so frustrated." I'm so sorry darling."

" You'd better go see who it is. Just call me back later ok?"

"  I'm sorry." Another knock.

" It's fine baby. I love you."

" I love you too."

" Bye."

" Bye." I hung up the phone and stomped my way to the door, throwing it open. There stood Steve and Dustin on my doorstep." This better be fucking good."

" Woah, buddy are you ok?" Steve asked." We tried to call you but the line was busy." He squinted at me.  "You look flushed."

" I'm fine. I know the line was busy, I was on the phone with Veronica."

" Oh," Steve's eyes widened. "Ohhh."

" Yeah Ohhh." I sighed." What did you guys want?"

" We we're going to go get pizza and wanted to see if you wanted to join us. We know that you haven't been out much since Ronnie left." Dustin shrugged.

I felt my frustration fade away. They were just thinking of me, just trying to be nice."Thanks guys, sorry about being a dick. I'll go with you. I'm just going to call Ronnie back real quick, let her know everything is ok."

" Sounds good. Tell her we said hey!"

I ran to the phone in the kitchen this time and dialed her number. She picked up first ring.

" Eddie?"

" It's me baby. It was Steve and Dustin, they want me to go get pizza with them. Trying to get me out of the house. They tried calling but the line was busy."

" Aww, that's sweet."

" They said Hi."

" Tell them I said Hi back. Your going to go with them right?"

" Yeah. As much as I was annoyed with them it is nice that they were thinking of me. "

" Absolutely. We can pick up where we left off another time. "

" I promise, next time you will have my undivided attention."

" I love you. Have fun with the guys."

" Thanks Sweetheart. I love you." We both hung up.

I walked out of the trailer and got into Steve's car.

" All good?" Dustin asked.

" Yeah. Ronnie said hi."

Steve backed out of my driveway then looked over at me, brows furrowed. "So was that technically cockblocking, because we weren't really blocking you from anything-"

I shook my head." Your such a Dick."

They both laughed. As much as I hated to admit it in this moment I was going to miss these assholes

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic

[ktmarison]

ORGAZMO  SENTENCE  STARTERS.

'  i'm  not  a  stud  !  '  

'  my  goodness,  you  have  such  an  attractive  little  garden  here.  '  

'  shove  it  so  far  up  your  righteous  ass  that  you  choke.  '  

'  you  told  me  you  knew  how  to  fight.  '  

'  get  back  in  there  and  look  tough,  you  fucking  pansy.  '  

'  hey,  don't  worry,  if  you  really  want  something  to  happen,  then  heavenly  father  will  probably  make  it  happen.  '

'  some  guys  from  jesus  are  here  ?  '  

'  i  gotta  cut  your  balls  off  now.  '

'  please,  i  don't  wanna  hurt  you.  '  

'  i  didn't  mean  to  hurt  these  people.  '  

'  they  had  it  coming  to  them,  the  rotten  bastards.  '  

'  oh  yeah,  i  dig  that  jesus  guy.  '  

'  he  doesn't  seem  much  like  the  porno  type  to  me.  '  

'  he's  so  prissy  and  wholesome.  '  

'  i  think  that  the  lord  understands  that  you  need  money  for  your  family's  future.  '  

'  twenty  thousand  dollars  would  get  us  off  to  a  great  start.  '  

'  jesus  and  i  love  you,  (name).  '

'  i'm  actually  a  normal  person.  '  

'  see,  i  have  what's  called  an  overactive  sex  drive.  '  

'  hey,  just  between  you  and  me,  i  don't  get  a  whole  lot  of  action  from  women.  '  

'  don't  you  think  heavenly  father  has  something  more  important  planned  for  your  life  ?  '  

'  i  don't  know  if  i  can  go  through  with  this.  '  

'  this  is  supposed  to  be  erotic.  '  

'  how  would  christ  benefit  from  me  putting  my  tongue  in  someone's  mouth  ?  '

'  i  don't  wanna  sound  like  a  queer  or  nothin',  but  i  think  unicorns  are  kick  ass.  '

'  hey,  you  wanna  get  some  sushi  tonight  ?  '  

'  i'm  a  bad,  bad  mormon.  '  

'  shouldn't  we  call  the  police  or  something  ?  '

'  maybe  it  would  help  you  to  talk  about  it.  you  know,  get  it  out.  '  

'  you're  putting  me  on.  '  

'  go  on,  give  yourself  a  treat.  '  

'  sure  beats  jerkin'  it,  huh  ?  '  

'  damn,  dude,  that's  some  hot  shit  right  there.  '  

'  goddamn  !  did  your  breasts  get  bigger  ?  '  

'  i  don't  like  it.  it  doesn't  have  the  spirit  of  the  first  one.  '  

'  i  think  you've  got  a  really  nice  ass.  '  

'  those  guys  probably  have  guns.  martial  arts  don't  stop  guns.  '  

'  there's  nothing  sadder  than  a  sad  japanese  man.  '  

'  that  guy  was  pointing  a  gun  at  me.  he  could've  shot  me  !  '  

'  the  lord  won't  be  angry  as  long  as  i  sleep  on  the  couch,  right  ?  '  

'  the  lords  kinda  tricky  when  it  comes  to  stuff  like  that.  '  

'  you  have  no  idea  how  much  i've  missed  you,  (name).  almost  forgotten  how  beautiful  you  are.  '

'  i've  been  pretty  patient  with  you,  but  it's  wearing  thin.  '  

'  now,  my  need  to  kiss  your  ass  is  over  !  '  

'  he's  a  first-class  asshole,  that's  for  sure.  '  

'  i'd  kinda  like  to  make  love  to  you  tonight.  '  

'  you  had  to  know  that  i  didn't  want  this.  '  

'  i  thought  nobody  would  ever  know.  '  

'  how  could  you  have  sex  with  all  those  women  ?  '  

'  is  this  what  you  think  heavenly  father  has  intended  for  you  ?  '  

'  all  i  know  is  that  i'm  finally  good  at  something.  '  

'  would  you  just  stop  hollerin'  at  me  ?  '  

'  i  hope  you're  happy  in  the  life  you've  chosen.  '  

'  don't  quote  dickens  in  my  apartment  !  '  

'  i  appreciate  everything  you've  done  for  me,  but  i  have  to  say  no.  '  

'  look,  i  might  have  lost  the  only  thing  that  really  matters  to  me.  i'm  not  staying  in  this  town  another  hour.  '  

'  i  don't  know  exactly  when  i  lost  control  of  my  life,  but  i  want  it  back.  '  

'  i'm  not  a  superhero,  i'm  a  latter  day  saint.  '  

'  men  are  equally  degraded  in  pornographic  films.  '  

'  i  do  what  i  do  and  i  make  a  lot  of  money,  and  i  don't  give  a  shit  what  i  do  to  people,  because  they  are  all  idiots  !  '  

'  men  like  you  make  the  lord  sick.  '  

'  if  jesus  christ  wants  to  bring  me  down,  he's  gonna  need  a  lot  of  help.  '  

'  man,  these  european  videos  are  kinky  !  '  

'  don't  you  think  you're  taking  this  role  a  little  bit  too  seriously  ?  '

'  it  looks  like  you're  up  fucked  river  now,  eh,  kiddo  ?  '  

'  did  you  really  think  you  could  beat  me,  you  cocky  prick  ?  '  

'  i  told  you  not  to  fuck  with  me  !  '  

'  he's  never  gonna  want  to  have  an  orgasm  again.  '  

'  one  more  for  jesus.  '  

'  i  think  fire  is  very  romantic.  '  

'  maybe  this  is  what  heavenly  father  has  intended  for  you.  '  

'  may  our  decisions  be  rash,  may  we  do  what's  right,  and  god  bless  us.  '  

'  tell  me  somethin'  i  don't  know,  you  cocky  prick.  '

#askbox #ask meme #ask sentence meme #south park rp #rp memes #book of mormon rp #rp sentence prompts #sentence starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters #sentence starter memes #south park sentence starters #book of mormon sentence starters #orgazmo rp #orgazmo sentence starters #meme #roleplay meme #i got to the last like. six quotes on this and became hyper aware that ive watched this movie three times in the last four days

[dramaphan]

drama i would actually pay you to watch our awkward fancy dinner

- @dannifer

You owe me $5

•WHY DOES HIS VOICE SOUND SO DEEP WHO IS THIS GUY

• no seriously why is it so deep am I hearing Dan’s straight voice for the first time

• why have I never noticed. Is he sick?? What’s going on

• I’m genuinely so rattled

• I always liked Louise and dnp collabs so this should be a fun time for me even though it’s 30 minutes long fuck

• I can’t fucking get over his voice

• okay I don’t think he has a cold or anything because he’s starting to slip back into his normal voice now so what the fuck??? What???? The fuck?????

• I just witnessed straight dan. That’s what happened. That was his straight voice I’m gonna shit

• Louise needs to sort her hair out it’s bothering me

• “I’m not socially inept, and you’re not fully socially inept” fuck bitch get his ass

• “did you just fart” followed by that entire conversation afterwards has me rolling

• these two seem like such genuine friends in these types of videos and that makes Louise being The Friend even funnier. She fell for that straight voice it worked

• love that Louise is having a full scale meltdown and everyone’s like yeah let’s go anyway bitch??? Just take her to the damn pizza place???

• phil offering Louise a Kitkat is so fucking funny because A) why is that your go to response to an upset friend and B) did he just??? Have one on him???? Emergency kitkat???

• “leggings are a two day thing” excuse me how stinky is your-

• oh threesome joke… you adorable airhead I’m in love with you

• Louise is really thinking hard about this threesome thing girl you’re married

• wait are there actually restaurants where the waiter napkins your lap I would end it right there and then

• reference to the leg waxing video which was a favourite of mine for a while, love that

• Dan was assigned dominant alpha male by the waiter and I have a feeling the straight voice had something to do with that

• Louise is right, hazel was definitely the alpha of that group

• why does Louise keep making sex jokes about her and Dan is there something going on here girlie are you good

• “Phil, he loves the fruity cocktails” and other phrases that feel different now

• this soup sounds…. Uh. I think they gave you the contents of their compost bin actually

• how did Phil not notice the napkin I-

• I truly wish these two would interact more they’re so goddamn funny

• like their whole friendship has such gay best friend vibes but Louise doesn’t even know it

• rip louises tit gone but never forgotten

• if literally anyone surprise dragged me to a fancy restaurant that cost me $260 I would beat their ass in the parking lot

• Dan just laughed so loud it activated my noise clock Jesus Christ

Final review: 4/10 video too long but it was quite funny so I’ll give it that

#ask

[senorarelojes]

Ficlet: Surprise Party

Just some crack I wrote for @pinksyndication. A very silly Pizzaverse oneshot.

.

Most of the time, Fletch was the only one out of his friends to remember someone’s birthday. He didn’t know why he had the uncanny ability to recall the birthdates of even casual acquaintances, or mates whom he hadn’t seen in years since they left uni. Martin often made fun of him about it, which was ironic because he wholly depended on Fletch to remind him when people’s birthdays were coming up. Of course Fletch teased him about it - but not that much since Martin was very thoughtful when it came to celebrations for their close friends, especially Dave and Alan.

Back in Bas, they’d always celebrated Dave’s birthday in a big group, usually hitting the pubs and clubs and getting pissed until morning. However, now that he was with Alan, the pub crawls had given way to more adult group dinners and the occasional karaoke tournament, where either Dave or Martin would emerge the winner (despite one memorable year where a drunk Alan belted out Total Eclipse of the Heart to a red-faced Dave while everyone else cried with laughter). 

Fletch supposed it was normal for birthdays to get more boring as they approached their mid twenties, although he was a little sad that their clubbing days were rapidly dying out. He decided he could try to do something different and plan a big surprise party for someone at one point.

The opportunity presented itself not long after. Dave’s 25th birthday was coming up, and while it had become tradition for him and Alan to go off and do their own thing, this year was different because Alan was stuck in Manchester for a recording project with an urgent deadline. Fletch had heard from Martin that Dave had considered taking the train up to Manchester so he could spend at least part of the day with Alan, but Dave himself was stuck at work for a merchandising event. 

“Don’t tell him I told you,” Martin informed Fletch over dinner, “but he’s utterly depressed about spending his birthday alone. I thought we could do something for him, y’know?”

Fletch perked up, his fork clattering on the plate in excitement and startling Miffles at his feet. “We could throw him a party?”

Martin looked doubtful. “Dunno, he didn’t seem to want to leave the house.”

“So we’ll have it at his place,” Fletch said, gesturing impatiently across the hall. “He won’t even have to leave the sofa.”

Lifting his shoulder in a shrug, Martin picked up his phone. “I’ll ask him.” He’d barely put his phone down when it buzzed with a reply from Dave: dont wanna celebrate w/out charlie 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 

“Jesus, this is textbook co-dependence,” Fletch said in mock disgust while Martin laughed. “So sod him then, we’ll just throw him a surprise party.”

Martin wrinkled his nose. “Sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah, we’ve got their spare keys, don’t we?” Fletch waggled his eyebrows at Martin. “We’ll call everyone, let ourselves into their flat with a cake and surprise the hell out of Dave, yeah? Then we’ll bring food and alcohol over from our place.”

It didn’t take much more to convince Martin, and soon after Fletch managed to get Grainne, Daryl, Paul and Nicole on board as well. Even Vince agreed to travel up from Bas for the night. Privately, Fletch was a little glad Christina wouldn’t be attending, as she’d returned to Germany after she and Martin had split up a few months ago. Fletch also hoped this party would lift Martin’s spirits as well.

As planned, on Dave’s birthday, everyone pretended to forget about it. Fletch almost felt guilty when Dave came over to have breakfast with them, shooting him and Mart hopeful glances before he left for work. Then it was up to Fletch and Martin to make sure things were ready for tonight. Martin would be leaving the bank early to take care of decorations and food, while Fletch would be fetching Vince from the station after work before they’d go to pick up Dave’s cake.

In the evening, everyone had arrived by seven and was hiding in Fletch’s and Martin’s flat, waiting for Dave to come home as they blew balloons and helped with the food. A little after eight, Daryl - who’d been stationed to keep watch at the window - suddenly shushed them, signaling for everyone to keep quiet. It seemed Dave had finally reached home.

Fletch tip-toed over to Daryl’s side, peeking out from behind the curtains. He could see Dave unlocking the door to his and Alan’s flat, his cheeks a little red and his walk unsteady - Fletch guessed that his mates from work must have taken him out for a few birthday pints. After the door slammed shut, Fletch set the timer for fifteen minutes, which he figured was enough time for Dave to settle in and sober up a bit before they went in to surprise him.

Once Fletch’s timer went off, everyone played their parts like a well-oiled machine. Vince brought the cake out from the fridge, Paul stuck on the candles and lit them, Grainne grabbed her phone to take pictures, Martin took out the spare keys that Dave and Alan had entrusted them with. All of them nodded quietly at each other before Fletch opened the door and led everyone out.

Martin slid the key in as quietly as possible, unlocking it with graceful stealth. Fletch very slowly nudged the door open; the living room was dark, which meant Dave wasn’t there. Once he was sure, he swung the door open wider so that everyone could fit in: Fletch led the way, Vince behind him with the cake. The candles were the only light in the flat.

Dave and Alan’s bedroom door was closed. Fletch ignored another pang of guilt that Dave was quite probably moping in bed now, distressed that his friends had forgotten him and Alan had forsaken him for work. Gesturing for everyone to follow, Fletch placed his hand on the doorknob, silently counting down to three on his fingers before he suddenly twisted the knob and yanked the door open, barging into the room. “Surprise! Happy birthday D--”

It was a toss-up as to who was more stunned: Fletch (and Vince right behind him with the cake) or a naked Dave in bed with his laptop on his thighs, scrambling to cover his crotch with a blanket as he shouted, “What the fuck!”

“Sorry! Christ I’m sorry!” Fletch slammed his hands over his eyes so he could get the image of Dave’s pale arse out of his goddamn brain. Behind him, he could hear Daryl laughing in disbelief and Alan’s voice from the laptop speakers, demanding to know what the fuck was going on.

“Oh my God, Dave,” Fletch could hear Grainne blabbering, “We’re so, so sorry--”

“Everyone out!” Dave yelled, and that was when someone - probably Martin -  came to their senses and started shoving at all of them to leave the room. Once the door was closed, Fletch let his hands drop, still stunned in disbelief. Fucking Daryl was still laughing as though they hadn’t just walked in on their good friend completely starkers and having Skype sex with their other friend. Paul and Nicole, who had been stuck in the back, were still completely confused, while Vince looked rather traumatised, ignoring the candles as they melted onto the cake.

“Fucking hell.” Fletch just rubbed at his temples as Grainne rubbed his back soothingly. “I’m going to need so much therapy.”

The door swung open again, an angry and tomato-faced Dave reappearing in shorts and a tank-top. “What the hell?”

“Er, happy birthday?” Martin grinned sheepishly, subtly hiding behind Fletch when Dave glared at him. However, his scowl melted away once he spotted the still-dazed Vince holding the cake.

“Oh man, you guys.” Dave rubbed at his face, probably torn between embarrassment and gratitude. 

“Quick, blow them out,” Paul said with a grin. “Then you can go blow something else.”

Daryl laughed even harder while Fletch wanted to pour bleach into his ears. “Sorry, we didn’t know you and Alan, uh--”

“Shit!” Dave’s eyes widened in realisation before he dashed back into the room, re-emerging with his laptop. On the screen was a topless but confused Alan in a Skype window, asking what was going on. “Sorry Al, someone decided to throw me a surprise party,” Dave explained to him.

“Oh.” At least Alan must have thought it was pretty funny, judging from how he seemed to be fighting back a laugh as he waved at everyone. “Hi from Manchester, you lot.”

“Sorry for interrupting you and Dave,” Martin said. “It was meant to be a birthday surprise thing.” 

“So was mine.” Alan was the absolute picture of innocence.

“I’m not talking to you while you’re shirtless,” Fletch said, shielding his eyes.

“Maybe we should leave them alone,” Grainne suggested. Fletch appreciated that she was at least keeping her gaze at eye-level and nowhere near Dave’s bunchy-looking underwear. “We’ll wait for you next door, Dave.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right over.” Dave gave all of them an apologetic grimace. “Let me wrap things up with Al first, yeah?”

“So we’ll see you in a minute? A minute and a half?” Paul smirked, not at all caring that Dave looked ready to throw the laptop at him.

They eventually filed out of Dave’s and Alan’s flat, heading back into Fletch’s and Martin’s. By now, the candles had completely melted onto the cake, and Vince was blinking down at the waxy mess, eyes still round with surprise.

“You all right, mate?” Martin asked in concern, taking the cake off the poor bloke.

“I need a drink,” Vince said solemnly. “A very stiff one.”

“Dave’s probably having a stiff one right now,” Daryl said with a straight face, before everyone burst out laughing, even Vince.

#dalan #pizzaverse #fanfiction

[just-jordie-things]

Love Letter - Richie Tozier

word count: 12,440 (I got really carried away) warnings: swearing request: @oceanspray5: Hi! Can you write a hc or (even better) a fic for Richie x fem!Reader (only if you want to of course) where he is deeply in love with her. She's sweet and nice but evryone says he's bad for her cuz he's a trashmouth so he would only corrupt her. Cue Richie leaving secret notes and flowers from the quarry in her locker as an outlet to try and rid himself of his heartache/feelings, not expecting anything in return, until one day she accidently finds out and it's happy ending of course. Thank you! summary: When Ben tells Richie that the best thing to help with his feelings for (y/n) is to write her a love letter, the trashmouth never expected it to turn into a full on secret admirer thing.

___

A simple note.  That’s all he had to do, all he had to write.  He could pour out everything he was feeling into one little letter, slip it into her locker, and get it over with.

Ben said that’s how easy it was! He’d told him that as long as he was honest, and spilled his very heart out onto the paper, then his heart wouldn’t go so crazy around her anymore.  He wouldn’t feel like he was suffocating as she filled every one of his senses.

However, now that he’s looking at this letter, this heartfelt letter, and probably the most sincere thing he’s ever written, he didn’t feel all that much better.

So right away, he picked up the phone and called Ben.

“Hi, Richie-”

“Yeah hey, what the fuck is this shit?” Richie jumped right into it, before Ben could even really say hello.  “You said this would help!”

“Are you talking about the letter?” Ben asked hopefully.

Richie rolled his eyes.

“No.  I’m talking about fucking smoking crack- yes I’m talking about the letter.  You told me that once I wrote it, it would be off my chest and I wouldn’t have to think about her anymore?”

Ben was silent on the other end for a moment, and Richie tapped his foot impatiently on the floor.

“What do you mean?” He finally asked.

“What do I- Ben!” Richie screeched into the phone, “I said that I needed to stop thinking about (y/n) all the time, because I was starting to act like an idiot in front of her, remember?”

“Right, because you’re in love with her” Ben said in agreement.

“Yeah, whatever, my point is I wrote the goddamn letter and it hasn’t helped”

“Well, what do you mean it hasn’t helped?”

“I mean I’m still fucking thinking about her!” Richie yelled again.

“Can you stop yelling?  It hurts my ear,” Ben muttered.  “But you're doing something wrong, writing her a little love note isn’t supposed to get rid of your own feelings”

“But that’s what I-!”

“I don’t get why you want to stop liking her, (y/n’s) awesome,” Ben cut him off.  “What you should do is give her your letter”

Richie almost had a heart attack.  He really thought he was going to spasm and then drop dead on his bedroom floor.

“What, the, fuck?”

“Yeah,” Ben responds, and Richie can only assume that he’s shrugging his shoulders.  “After I gave Bev my poem, I felt way better! Just knowing that she know how I feel-”

“What the hell? She doesn’t even know it’s from you!” Richie shrieks.

It’s silent again.

“Sorry for yelling” Richie mumbled.

“Thanks,” Ben answers.  “But you don’t have to tell her that it’s you.  It still feels good to know that she knows someone really likes her.  Just give her it, you’ll know what I mean”

“How do I give it to her without her knowing it was from me?”

“I dunno.  Slip it in her locker?”

Richie mulls it over for a moment, thinking about how he could put a letter like this in her locker when she’s not around.  He decides that no one can be around, he doesn’t want a single person on this planet to know that he’s done this.  Besides Ben, he supposes.

“You sure it’ll help?”

“Yeah” Ben replies, but it’s unenthusiastic, and not convincing at all.

Richie thinks he might just have to take the chance anyways, because if he holds onto all these feelings any longer, he might just explode, and that doesn’t seem like a good idea. ___

That’s how Richie finds himself sneaking into the hall the next day at school.  He’d asked to go to the bathroom in the middle of class, when he knew the halls would be empty, and it would be the prime time to put his letter in (y/n’s) locker.

His plan worked.

There was no one around, and he slipped the folded paper in between the vents of her locker.

Luckily, he met her at her locker every day after school, so he knew exactly which one was hers.  And as soon as the paper disappeared and fluttered into the locker, he felt the weight lift off his shoulders.

Ben was right.  This was exactly what I needed.  

He lingered there at her locker for a minute, feeling more relaxed than ever.  And (y/n) hadn’t even read it yet.  This was going to be perfect.

Maybe she’d wonder who it was for a couple days, maybe even for a week.  But eventually she’ll get over it, and Richie hoped he could get over his feelings for her too.

Then they could go back to being friends, and he wouldn’t feel so awkward all the time.  Perfect. ___

“Do you know anything about this?”

Beverly turned to (y/n), blowing a rather large bubble of bubblegum as she glanced at the paper in her friend’s hands.  Shrugging, she shook her head, and her bubblegum popped.

“Nope” She answered.

(y/n) let out a short sound of disappointment as she looked back at the paper.  It had been stuffed haphazardly in her locker, and as soon as she’d put in the combination and opened the door, it had fluttered down to her feet.

It was exciting at first, from the moment she opened it, she hung onto every word spilled out on the page.  It was definitely the grandest gesture anyone had ever done for her, not to mention the most romantic thing she’d ever read.  And to know that someone had written this for her, it made her heart pound in her ears, and her whole face had turned pink.

She read it over three times, before gathering her things for her next class, and racing off.  She’d hoped, she’d crossed her fingers that Beverly knew who the boy was that had forgotten to sign his name.

She even said a little prayer in hopes that it was the boy she wished.

But if Beverly didn’t know about this note, then she probably didn’t know who it was from.

“What’s wrong?” The red haired girl asked, realizing that (y/n) had deflated in her seat.

“Oh, nothing, I just…”

“You want it to be from someone, don’t you?” Beverly asked, a smirk spreading across her lips.

She’s been friends with (y/n) for years now, and knew exactly what that longing look on her face meant.

“Well, maybe,” The girl admitted softly.  “But it’s just so… carefully written, you know? I just feel like… like whoever wrote it should tell me”

“It is odd that it’s not signed,”

Beverly furrowed her brows, eyes skimming over the page skeptically.  Her mind drifted to the beautiful poem she’d gotten on a postcard a couple years ago, and how that hadn’t been signed either.

“That means they don’t want you to know who it’s from”

“But I’m dying to know, Bev”

“Yeah, well, unless you want to interrogate the whole school, you’ll just have to accept it”

(y/n) frowned.

“That’s horrible advice”

Beverly laughed, and shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Or you could always do a little investigating.  Match up the handwriting, see if there’s anyone who talks to you like that,” She suggested, gesturing to the paper.  “Wanna talk after school? Maybe flip through the yearbook and look at possible candidates?”

“Sure,” (y/n) lets out a small laugh at the idea.  “Making lists always helps”

Of course, Beverly knew that.

“Great, I’ll call you after I finish this essay I’ve been putting off?” The redhead asked.

(y/n) nodded in agreement, thinking this was probably the next best idea they had.

She read through the note one more time, before carefully folding it back up by it’s original creases, and tucking it carefully into her bag.  Class was going to start soon, she’d have to put off her investigation for another time. ___

Richie Tozier always met (y/n) at her locker at the end of the day.  Mostly because it was the only time none of their other friends could drag her away from him.  They had a tendency to want to put distance between the two.

Stan and Eddie had told (y/n) time and time again that she shouldn’t get too ‘exposed’ to Richie because he was such a trashmouth.  She didn’t get it, and ignored their stupid warnings anyways.  She was a big girl, she could make decisions for herself.

Besides, whenever she’d get to her locker to find Richie leaning against it, her knees got weak, and her heart would soar.

“Hello, Tozier” She greeted with a wide smile, one that she didn’t even bother to try taming.

“G’afternoon, m’lady” He responds in a dumb and not too great accent, but she laughs anyways as she spins in her locker combo.

Richie’s tapping his foot, staring at her anxiously.  The good feeling he’d had earlier today getting eaten up by his nerves.  What if she knew?

“Hey, are you doing anything?” She asks him, glancing up at him as she puts her books away.

“Besides standing here and breathing? I guess not” He retorts.

Jesus fucking christ that was the most embarassing thing you’ve ever said, what are you? A dad? Because that was a dad joke you dumb fuck-

“I mean after school,” (y/n) giggles, slinging her backpack over her shoulder, and shutting her locker.  “I want a slushie”

“And I’m the only fella in the land that you want to accompany you?” He asks.

He mentally face-palms again.

For fucks sake would you get it together?

But again, she laughs, and nods her head.

“Sure, something like that,” She tells him.  “Wanna go?”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely”

They walk side by side out of school and into town.  Normally they’d go to the quarry together to meet the others, but pretty much everyone had something going on, and couldn’t make it.

Some of Richie’s nerves had calmed, but he still found himself tapping at his leg when it would get silent between them.

She had a way of easing his nerves, but still making his heart pound like it was trying to get out of his chest.

(y/n) looked over to him, and leaned over to bump her side against his, bringing him out of his stupor.

“You sure are quiet today, Trashmouth,” She commented.  “Somethin’ on your mind?”

“No, I just like hearing you run your mouth” He replied, hoping that she brushed his awkwardness as just him teasing.

She rolled her eyes back at him, but a smile curled on her lips.

“You’re funny,” She says nonchalantly.  “I didn’t mean to talk so much”

“No really, you ramble a lot, it’s hilarious and adorable”

Her face got hot immediately after the word left his mouth, and so did Richie’s, but he did his best to hide it.

They get to 7-Eleven not too long after, and finally Richie seems to be his usual self.

He mixes a bunch of slushie flavors together, like an animal, and (y/n) can’t help but stick her tongue out as she watches him mix blueberry, cherry, orange, and lemon lime.

“What’s your problem?” Richie asks, adding banana slushie until it’s reached the top of his cup.

(y/n) shakes her head and scrunches up her nose in mock disgust at the action.

“How can you drink that?” She asks, filling her own cup with her usual cherry and blueberry mix.  The way you were supposed to drink them.

“I like to live dangerously, toots” Richie replied with a wink that made her roll her eyes affectionately.

He brought his cup to the counter, giving the clerk the money for it and then some to cover (y/n’s).  Just as she’d walked up to the register, sipping on her perfectly mixed drink, Richie was already grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the store.

“But I have to-”

“I already paid,” He told her, and cut her off just as she opened her mouth to protest.  “Too late now, it’s already paid for, now come on”

She made a face, because she did not need him to do that, but it was still kind, so she thanked him quietly and followed behind him as they went outside.

They sat on the curb, setting their bookbags down and enjoying their cold drinks.

“It’s weird that we don’t hang out” (y/n) said, and Richie looked over to her, but she was staring down at her cup.

“Yeah,” He agreed.  “But it’d be pretty humiliating to be murdered by Eddie, so…”

She laughs, but it’s half-hearted.

“Still…” She trails off, and dares a glance over to him.  “We should just hang out anyways” Her eyes can’t meet his as she speaks, too bashful, but she waits for him to respond.

Richie gives her a wide grin, and when he chuckles, she finally looks up at him.

“How devious of you, breaking rules and shit” He says before sipping on his horrible concoction of flavors that shouldn’t taste good together.

“It’s not a rule,” She says, scolding him just a bit.  “It’s just… I don’t want to upset my friends, our friends,” She says carefully, and then peeks up at him nervously.  “But… you’re my friend too you know”

Somehow she did that thing again.  Where his heart skyrockets, and then crashes so hard in his gut he thinks it might make him barf.

That might be his slushie talking, though.

“Yeah, I know,” Richie responds, staring downwards so he didn’t have to see her expression.  “You’re my friend too”

A small smile quirks on her lips, and then she scoots closer to him, setting her drink down to grab her bag.

“As my friend, would you like to help me on a very top secret investigation?”

She wiggles her eyebrows at him excitedly before opening her backpack, and rummaging in it.

“I want to ask more questions but how can I say no to an invitation like- oh fuck”

She pulls out a folded piece of paper that Richie recognizes instantly, he almost spits out orange flavor from his nose, but he’s quick to swallow and sets his cup down.

As (y/n) excitedly hands him the opened note, he grabs at it frantically, eyes scanning over the words he thought he’d memorized.  He hadn’t, apparently, because reading it now made his gut wrench and he wished he had just gotten a plain cherry slushie.

“Isn’t that fucking awesome?” (y/n) squeals, latching onto his arm with both hands, and reading along with him.

Richie’s eyes probably scanned over the paper four times before he finally reacted.

“Holy shit, toots,” He mumbled.  “You’ve got someone whipped”

She blinked at him, her smile still on her face, even though with every passing second, she was confirming her worst thought.  

It wasn’t Richie.

A part of her heart longed for him to say ‘to be honest… I wrote you this’.  But the longer Richie stared at it, analyzing the text, the harder reality struck her.  It couldn’t be him.

When he handed her the note back, she frowned for a moment, but just as quickly plastered on a smile.

“Something wrong with it?” Richie asked, a bit too impulsive, but he caught her look and freaked out at the thought that she was disappointed in it.

“No, actually, it’s entirely perfect,” She admitted softly, holding onto the edges of the paper as not to put a single crinkle in it.  “But Bev says that whoever did write it, had no intention of coming forward”

“Well, yeah, isn’t that the point?” Richie asked.

“The point?” (y/n) repeated unsurely.

“Yeah, that now you know someone out there… loves you… that much”

He cringed at his words, but (y/n) stared up at him, waiting for more of an explanation.

“I don’t understand,” She told him.  “If I loved someone that much… I think that it would be very difficult for me to hide that,”

She wasn’t wrong, but Richie almost shivered as a chill went down his spine.

“I mean, wouldn’t you?”

“Wouldn’t I what?” He asked, too lost in thought to focus on her words.

“Well, think of it from my perspective,” (y/n) angled her body towards his as she spoke.  “If you’d gotten a note like this, wouldn’t you expect someone to come out and just- I don’t know, profess their love to you? It feels like a pretty grand gesture to me,”

Richie contemplates it for a moment.  He thinks about declaring his love for her, loudly, in front of the whole school, the whole world, and just pouring his heart out in ways he couldn’t have done on paper.  Telling her every beautiful thing about her that he loves, every wonderful thing that has changed his life, and his view on what it truly means to be alive-

“I’m daydreaming way too much,” (y/n) draws him back from his thoughts with a short laugh and a shake of her head.  “Wow, I really thought I was in a romance novel for a second there”

She laughs again, but Richie can barely hold a smile.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” He says, picking up his slushie.  “And I think it’s normal for you to want to… um… know who wrote it”

She gives him a sad sort of smile, and finally lets go of his arm so she can grab hold of her own slushie.

“I don’t think I’m gonna figure it out,” She sighs.  “But if you hear anything, you’d tell me, right?”

“Absolutely,” Richie answers without hesitation, and the smile that takes over her lips is genuine this time.  “Trade?” He asks, holding out his slushie for her.

Her nose crinkles again, but she curiously leans over to take a sip from his straw.

After swallowing, she smacks her lips, tasting the remnants of the strange flavor.

“Okay.  It’s not that bad” She admits, and Richie beams at her victoriously before drinking from her own plain slushie.

“I knew you’d like it, toots”

They hang out on the curbside until their slushies are gone, and then Richie walks her home.

She does an odd thing as she says goodbye though, something she’s never done before anyways.

She hugs him.

It’s quick, and he doesn’t even have the time to reciprocate the action before she’s pulling away, smiling as she waves, and heads inside.

It’s simple, but he thinks about it over and over as he walks home. ___

(y/n),

I want to keep this simple, because honestly if I get too into it I think I’ll keep writing until there’s no more paper in the world.  Or at least no more paper that I have.

So, I’m in love with you, take that as you will, but writing it has been surreal, let alone feeling it for the last year or so.  I just wanted to let you know, because it’s been weighing on me for a while now, and I think I’m going to die soon from feeling it all the time.

And it’s not artificial either, it’s real love, and I’ve felt it long enough now to know that it's a complete and total infatuation I have for you, I’m not just romanticizing what we have.  Which isn’t much to begin with.  But still, I love you.

I thought you deserved to know.  It doesn’t feel fair to you, for me to have this all-consuming feeling and not let you know, even though it concerns you.  I think you’re the greatest person I’ve ever met, and the greatest one I ever will meet, and I think that you deserve to be loved like this, the way I love you.

Yours,

Empty.

(y/n) stared at that spot like if she waited long enough, a name would appear.  Of course, after ten minutes of laying in bed and staring, nothing happened.

Besides the sudden spikes in her heartbeat of course.

But she’d figure it out eventually.  Even if it took the rest of the year, hell, even if it took the rest of her life, she was committed to finding the author. ___

Richie woke up earlier than usual the next morning.  Maybe because he couldn’t sleep, maybe because all he thought about was (y/n) and the fact that he’d poured his heart out to her, and she didn’t even know it.

And he was just dying to do it again.

It may have been too early to go to school, but he got himself ready and left the house anyways.

He decided that it was a good idea to collect flowers on his walk to school, stalling and plucking any of the prettiest ones he could find.

Dandelions are weeds, Richie, his mother’s voice scolded in his head, but he pushed the thought away.

By the time he made it to school, he had quite an abundance of dandelions, clovers, bluebells, and some tiny purple flower that he knew she’d think was pretty.

He was pretty proud that he was able to tie the tiny bouquet with a broken dandelion stem.  And he thought that (y/n) would find it cute too.  She was always picking dandelions and cattails and other strange plants from the quarry, either placing them in Bev’s hair, or fashioning them together in a crown.

Once he’d made it to the school, he had just enough time to stick the flowers carefully into the vents of (y/n’s) locker, so that they would stay in place without falling. ___

(y/n) almost squealed with delight when she’d found the gift at her locker this morning.  Beverly had to remind her that it was too early in the day for such high pitched sounds.

“But they’re so cute” (y/n) murmured.

“So is this a regular thing then?” Beverly asked, drawing (y/n) out of the trance she appeared to be in while staring at the flowers.  “You know, the notes and flowers and… shit”

(y/n’s) brows furrowed, but Beverly just smirked back at her.

“I hope so,” She answered.  “I mean, it should be easier to figure out who it is that way, right? They’ve got to slip up at some point”

“I guess that makes sense,” Beverly shrugs.  “Hey, how come you didn't call me yesterday? I thought we were gonna flip through yearbooks and list the options?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” (y/n) exclaimed.  “I completely forgot, I just got caught up with…”

“With what?” Beverly asked.

(y/n) glanced around the busy halls, making sure that Stan or Eddie was nowhere around.

“Okay, don’t tell the others… but Richie and I hung out yesterday” (y/n) admitted, a bit more shy than she needed to be.  

Her cheeks turned pink, and she had to bite back a grin.  The action only made Bev’s smirk widen.

“Oh did you?” She mused, crossing her arms and leaning against the locker next to (y/n’s).

“Yeah,” (y/n) mumbled, almost dreamily.  “We got slushies”

“Well isn’t that just romantic?”

“What? No- no it wasn’t like- no no no-”

“You’re stammering,” Beverly laughs.  “Besides, I already knew you had a thing for him”

“What-!?” (y/n) hissed, but it didn’t matter, because Bev just shook her head.

“Yeah, it was pretty obvious.  But anyways, how was it? Did you show him the note?”

“I did…” She said through a small huff.  “ANd um, it wasn’t from him”

“Oh” Beverly said with the same disappointment.

“But that’s okay, it’s Richie, he would never do something like that,” (y/n) brushed it off with an awkward laugh.  “Besides, you know how Stan and Eddie are, always trying to keep me away from him”

Beverly rolled her eyes, but she could tell that she’d hoped Richie had been behind all this, so she tried to move past the sensitive subject.

“Speaking of those idiot boys, we better get to class” ___

The next day, (y/n) found another small string of flowers tucked into the vents of her locker.

And the day after that, multiple small bouquets.

And the day after that, her locker was blanketed in dandelion and lilac heads, taped carefully to cover the whole door.  She probably gawked at it for five minutes before putting in her combination as delicately as possible, not wanting to make any of the pretty decorations fall off.

“Wow,”

The voice made her jump, and she swiveled around to see Richie grinning at the current state of her locker.

“That’s… a lot” He said, it was all he could think to say.

“Yeah,” (y/n) answered bashfully, letting out a soft giggle.  “Whoever did this must have come to school really early,” She mumbled, mostly to herself.

Maybe that’s how she’d get him, and it dawned on her, that it was the only possible solution.

Her eyes noticeably widened as her jaw dropped open at the realization.

“Oh my god, Richie, you’re a genius”

“Um-”

“Before school, they’ve got to do all this before school! In the morning!”

She grabs his shoulders and shakes him excitedly without thinking.  The poor boy looks so confused, and worried, but he gives her the best smile he can manage.  It’s not pretty.

“You want to come with me?” She asks him.

She looks so hopeful, her eyes are bright and she’s pushing her lips together to keep from smiling too wide, but Richie can tell she wants to.

Well.  Fuck.

“Want to, um, what-?”

“Want to catch him with me?” She asks, trying to talk quietly, but the eagerness in her voice makes it go up a couple octaves.

He thinks she looks like a six year old on christmas morning.  And how is he supposed to say no to her?

“Sure,” He says, and it takes a lot for him not to let out a sigh as he agrees.  “How early though? Because I like to sleep until I absolutely have to-”

“Thank you, Richie!” (y/n’s) enthusiasm was bubbling over the top, as she practically jumped up to kiss his cheek, before grabbing her things to head off to class.  

He’s stunned to frozenness, of course, by the quick action.

“I gotta go, but I’ll call you tonight to talk about the morning!” She calls after him, and waves goodbye as she makes her way down the hall.

Even when the bell rings, he’s still standing there, the spot on his face where her lips had brushed burning hot on his skin.

But the sweet moment is quickly washed away as he realizes what he just agreed to. ___

Richie isn’t surprised to hear (y/n’s) voice as soon as he picked up his phone that night.  It was late, far too late for him to be up and talking on the phone, but he’d keep his voice down so his parents wouldn’t wake up.

Luckily, he had his own extension in his room.

“Alright toots, what’s your plan?” He asked, sitting back on his bed while she began her rambling.

“Okay, I’ve thought it out perfectly,” She starts, and he expected no less.  “The perfect hiding spot- and stay with me here- is the girl’s bathroom across the hall from my-”

“Yeah, no,” Richie disagreed right away.  “I’m not going in the girl’s bathroom, I’m not that much of a perv”

“It’s not pervy!” She argued.  “No one else will be there, it’s fine.  Now hush and listen,”

Richie rolls his eyes, but manages to keep quiet so she can continue explaining her plan.

“I say we hide out there for half an hour, and catch him in the act!”

The boy can’t help with wince, feeling guilty, since she won’t be catching anybody.

“Alright then,” He exhales.  “You’re telling me I have to get up at 6:30?”

“No, I’m telling you we have to be there at 6:30,” She corrects him politely.  “You should probably get up around-”

“Why don’t you swing by here on your way, and then we’ll just go together,” Richie suggests.  “Just ring the doorbell, and I’ll wake up, and we’ll go”

“Richie, that won’t be nearly enough time-”

“Trust me toots, it’s plenty of time,” He cuts her off, and she’s quiet on the other end of the line.  “Well, I best be getting to sleep since you’re getting me up so early for this scheme of yours”

“It’s not a scheme, Tozier, it’s a plan!”

“It’s a scheme”

“Plan!”

“G’night toots” Richie laughs, and he can hear her mumbling in frustration.

“Goodnight” She answers, and then hangs up the line.

Almost as soon as he puts the phone down, Richie’s confidence disappears, and anxiety strikes him again.  

He really was going to kill Ben for getting him into all this.  It was way out of hand.

Although he supposed he could’ve just written the note and left it… but he liked getting the flowers for her, he liked seeing her face light up in the mornings when she’d find them.

He needed a plan of his own. ___

The following morning, (y/n) had been at Richie’s door at 6:15 sharp, giving them just enough time to walk to school… and then some because she figured Richie wouldn’t be out of bed and ready to go as he thought he would be.

And he wasn’t.

He was a slow morning person too.  Even just changing took him way too long.  But eventually he dragged himself out of the house, his backpack barely hanging on one of his shoulders as the pair walked to school together.

“Whatcha starin’ for?” He mumbles out, before yawning.

He didn’t have to get up this early before now.  (y/n) really was dedicated to this mystery.

She’d been trying not to laugh as she looked at him.  His hair disheveled, he’d probably haphazardly combed through it, the curls poking every which way.  He’d hardly been able to put on sweats and a tee shirt, with a jacket loosely thrown over it to keep warm.  It appeared he’d started to zip it up but gave up before he even reached halfway and left the house.

Even his glasses sat crooked on his face.

“You, you dork,” (y/n) laughs, and grabs his arm to stop him for a moment.  “Do you look at yourself before you leave the house?” She asks as she zips his jacket up for him, and then adjusts his glasses to fit properly over his nose.

“Sorry we don’t all wake up hours early to pick out an outfit and do our makeup” He teases back, before playfully swatting her hands off him.

(y/n) rolls her eyes.

“I picked out my clothes the night before, dummy,” She tells him, matter of factly.  “And I don’t wear makeup”

Richie’s brows furrow, and his nose scrunches up.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” She laughs back at him.  “Now wake up more! This morning is important”

“Right right, I’ll work on that”

But you see, Richie hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in four days now.  He’d be up all night thinking about (y/n), and then get up early to enact his plan of the day for her locker.  He couldn't have gotten more than six hours the past few nights.

So by the time they got to the school, he was already done for the day, and it wasn’t even 6:30 in the morning yet.

He followed sluggishly next to (y/n), who had never been more wide awake and perky in her whole life.  And once they reached the girl’s bathroom, he nearly collapsed onto the tiled floor.

It was a good thing that the entrance to the bathroom itself didn’t have doors- a choice made by the principal, who thought that it would help them detect if anyone were smoking in the stalls.  

(The students had long ago figured out how to crack the windows so they could just smoke out of there, but in this case, (y/n) was glad that there was an opening to the hall to spy through)

The pair sat just inside of the bathroom, across from each other.  (y/n) was leaning against the space next to the entrance, where she could easily peek her head around the corner and see her flower covered locker.  Richie sat against the brick panel just across from her, which acted as a barrier to see the bathroom from the outside.

It was just then that (y/n) realized how ridiculous her school’s plan to combat underage smoking really was.  Especially as Richie pulled out a cigarette and lit it right then.

“Richie!” She scolded in a hiss, but he shrugged innocently.

“There’s no one else here” Was his answer, and she didn’t argue it any further.

She didn’t care much, she was far too excited about the events this morning was going to unfold.  Richie, however, slumped further against the wall, about to fall asleep with his cigarette still in his mouth.

“Oh, I brought snacks,” (y/n) told him, pulling her backpack around, and opening it up to dig for what she packed.  “I knew you wouldn’t eat before we left.  And in every cop movie, they eat during the stakeout”

He thinks that his heart might explode, because never before had he heard the simplest of things sound so cute.

As she pulls out two jumbo oatmeal cream pies, which are the perfect substitute for breakfast, his eyes catch a small plastic bag inside her backpack.

“You kept all those?” He asks, recognizing the flowers sealed inside.

“Oh, yeah,” (y/n) answers, adjusting the small bag so the flowers wouldn’t get crushed.  “I thought they were pretty” She told him, before shrugging a shoulder.

Richie watches her while she’s focused on these flowers, these weeds that he’d gotten for her.  There was a small smile on her face as she examined them, even though they were dying, and there was a pile of petals at the bottom of the bag.  But still she’d kept them.

“What are you gonna do when you find him, anyway?” Richie asked, and right away she put the flowers away and zipped up her backpack.

“I guess get to know him,” She answers, but she sounds unsure.

They simultaneously open their plastic wrapped breakfast cakes.

“Go on dates, I have to give him a chance, don’t I?”

“You say that like you don’t want to” Richie chuckles, eating in between puffs of a cigarette.

“I do,” She tells him, but it’s faint.  “I do, it’s just… I don’t know what to expect,”

Richie only hums, because he doesn’t know what to say to her.  There’s nothing he could say, or so he thinks.  

“Can I be honest?”

“I’m sittin’ here either way, toots” He teases back.

“A part of me doesn’t really want to know” She admits, and takes a rather large bite of her breakfast snack.

“What? Why?” Richie asks.

“Um, well,” She sighs through a mouthful of food.  “I’m nervous”

You have no idea the amount of anxiety I’ve been through this week, Richie thinks, but he nods his head in understanding.

“You don’t think it’s gonna be who you want it to?” He asks, and she chuckles humorlessly.

“I know it’s not who I want it to be,” She says, which only confuses him more.  “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to give whoever it is a chance, it’s only fair, he’s done nothing but- but shower me in all these flowers and this declaration of love, you know?”

Richie nods, but it’s a very small movement.

He’s forgotten both his breakfast and his smoke in his hands as he stares at her, hanging onto every word she spoke.

“Yeah, I know” He agrees quietly.

(y/n’s) quiet as she continues to eat, the gears in her head turning almost as fast as her heart is beating.  Richie can almost see her processing through every boy in school, and wondering if any of them could be the one.

He wondered if he crossed her mind when she went through this mental list.

“Hey,” Richie whispered, and kicked at her foot.  “Someone’s coming down the hall”

Her expression changed in a split second, and she wiggled with excitement, before peeking out the doorway to see who was coming.

Richie felt his gut churning, he thought it might just be mush by the time this was over.

Her anticipation grew and grew as the footsteps got closer, and just when the person rounded the corner, all that came to mind was oh?

Bill Denbrough walked right up to her locker, slipped a piece of paper in the vents, did a scan to make sure no one was around, and then walked away.

And that was it.

She physically deflated in front of him, and he could see the disappointment coming off her in waves.

There was a furrow in her brows, and her grin fell to a slight frown.  Even her eyes had a sadness and a confusion to them that Richie’s never seen before.

“Bill?” She mumbled, mostly to herself.  “Bill Denbrough?”

Richie didn’t say anything, the guilt he was feeling eating at him from the inside.

(y/n’s) eyes meet his, but still, he’s silent.  She takes his contorted expression as confusion and she shakes her head a bit.

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” She continues to mumbles, slowly taking bites out of her oatmeal cream pie.  “Bill? Bill’s my friend”

“Well- do you- do you want to go talk to him?” Richie asks, but it does nothing to ease her perplexed state.

“Um…”

It’s all she says.

She peeks around the doorway again, watching Bill as he walks down the hall, probably towards his first class.  The buses would arrive in a few minutes, and classes would start not too long after.

“(y/n)?” Richie asks, starting to feel even worse.  “Are you alright?”

“I- yeah” She stammers back, which proves she’s lying through her teeth.

“Are you sure?” Richie asks, and the look she gives him pretty much assures him that he’s going straight to hell when he dies.

She just looks so disappointed, lost and confused, and Richie didn’t think that unless Bowers himself had been at her locker, then she wouldn’t have been let down.

Clearly, this was worse.

All she does is nod her head, and toss the rest of her treat in the trash.

“(y/n)-”

“I’m gonna go to class,” She tells him, quiet, and shaky.  “I- I’ll see you after school?”

She glances at him as she grabs her bag and waits at the doorway, and Richie nods his head back at her.

And then she takes off.

Richie wished that some greater force would just kill him now. ___

“I’ve got a question for you, Big Bill,”

Beverly sits down at the lunch table, and just from the look on her face, the boys are already nervous about how this conversation is going to end.

The redhead crosses her legs before leaning over the lunch table, staring at Bill almost threateningly.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Wh-what?” The boy stuttered back helplessly.

“(y/n) told me today that her little secret admirer…  was you,” She said, eyes narrowing.  “But… that doesn’t make any sense”

Bill cast a quick glance to Richie, but he kept his eyes trained on his food, which he was only poking at.

“W-well, I-”

“Because,” Beverly continued to explain herself, “I know that you don’t like her, not like that, not in the way her little note says”

“B-Bev I-”

“So,” The redhead cuts him off again, “Either you thought this was a funny joke, and I’ll kick your ass.  Or, someone put you up to it”

The others at the table are on the edge of their seats, eager to see what happens next.

Besides Richie, who is still moping.

Ben, however, was probably the most excited one to see where this went.  Seeing as he knew that Richie was the true writer of the notes, and he’d been the one to pick the flowers.  And he realized that Richie must have asked Bill to do his dirty work, to throw off (y/n).  But Richie could not have anticipated this chain reaction.

(y/n) herself didn't even come to the cafeteria for lunch today.  She’d made plans with a teacher for an extra credit assignment just to get out of seeing Bill.  She’d told Bev about this morning, and then went on to try and find a way out of every class she had with Bill.  Not because she was upset with him- she could never, Bill was one of her best friends- but because she didn’t want to make it more awkward than it already was.

“I- I wasn’t tr-trying to hurt h-her,” Bill said.  “I w-was just-”

“Then who is it?” Beverly asked.  “Someone must have told you to do it, who?”

Richie hated that she was too smart for her own good.

“I- I can’t t-tell you,” Bill huffed.  “I-I p-promised”

“Uh-huh, look, (y/n’s) my best friend, and you’re gonna have to tell me, so spit it out”

“I p-promised”

“I don’t give a shit, just spill-”

“It was me”

It only took three words for the attention of the whole table to focus on Richie.  And usually when he opened his mouth, the others had a knack for completely shutting him out.

If he thought Beverly was upset before, oh boy, this was an unfiltered rage she’d just tapped into.

“What?” Her voice was low, and pissed.

“Yeah” RIchie shrugged.

“You did what?” Stan shrieked, but Richie ignored him, still staring straight at Beverly.

“Where the hell do you get off? Do you think this shit’s funny-?”

“It wasn’t a joke,” Richie said, calmly, and the red in Bev’s cheeks started to fade out.  “It was real, I wrote that note for real, and I wanted to give her all the flowers and stuff”

Beverly blinked, completely baffled.

“You did what?” Stan repeated.

Richie just shrugged his shoulders, and went back to eating his lunch.

“You- but you-” Beverly shook her head, completely thrown off.  “You?” Was her final question, and it wasn’t much, but it was all that she could articulate.

“Yeah.  Me,” Richie responded.  “You gonna go tell her now?”

Beverly shook her head, surprising him.

“Really?” He asked.  “Two minutes ago you were gonna kill Bill-”

“You have to be the one to do it,” Bev told him.

Richie snorted.

“Right” He said sarcastically.

“No way” Stan interjected, but he was still being ignored.

“No, really,” Bev continued.  “Right now she thinks that her friend is into her-”

“I’m her friend too” Richie said with furrowed brows.

Beverly nodded her head from side to side.

“Eh, yeah, but…” She trailed off, because she couldn’t tell Richie that she knew (y/n) liked him.  “I feel like her knowing the truth is more important right now”

“Yeah, because I want to ruin the barely-friendship we have now” Richie rolls his eyes.

“Come on-”

“I’m not telling her” He deadpanned, before Beverly could try to convince him.

“Yeah, he’s not telling her” Stan chimed in, mouth full of pot pie.

“Not because of you, dingbat,” He muttered with a dirty look towards his friend.  “Because I like her, and I’d like to be friends with her”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Beverly said, finally opening up her lunch bag.  “I guarantee it’d be worth it if you just gave in”

Richie shook his head, and didn’t bother to argue with her anymore.  He doesn’t want to have to argue something so stupid, especially when this was something unchangeable.

He was in love with a girl he knew he didn’t deserve to have, and so he’d just have to live with it. ___

As he was waiting by her locker at the end of the day, Richie wondered if he’d be able to live with this, knowing that he’s maybe ruined her whole world- or at least just her friendship with Bill.

When she finally makes her way to her locker, she seems better than this morning, and offers him a kind smile as she reaches him.

Richie grins back at her, completely out of relief.

And then he hugs her.  She’s about to turn to put in her combination, and the action takes her by surprise, but she pats his back sweetly before he lets go.

“I’m really sorry about this morning,” He told her, and she tilts her head to the side a bit.  “I wasn’t- I was just tired and didn’t know how to act, I’m so sorr-”

“Richie, don’t be sorry,” (y/n) cuts off his babbling.  “It’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong”

She gives him a genuine look, a kind look, convincing him that there was no need for his guilt, and still, he felt like a piece of shit.

“Well, Bill, I mean, you guys are friends, and-”

“It’s no big deal Richie, I overreacted,” (y/n) shook her head, before putting in her combination to collect her things.  “I just wasn’t expecting him is all”

“Wh-who were you expecting?” Richie stammered out, and then cringed.

“I don’t know,” (y/n) hummed.  “Just… not him”

She puts her books away, and gathers what she’d need to do her homework tonight, before shutting her locker and looking up at him readily.

She notices the crease between his brows, and he seems very zoned out, because he’s just standing there, instead of heading out.

“Rich?” She asks, holding onto the straps of her backpack.  “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, sorry, yeah” He nodded, and moved out of his stiff position to walk by her side down the hall.

She kicks his foot gently, not to trip him, just to tease.

“Stop with the apologizing,” She says with a small giggle.  “Hey, do you want to get slushies again?”

He looks down at her, but doesn’t really answer, just stares at her.

Her hair is in a messy bun resting at the back of her head, and more strands have fallen out than are still being held in the hair tie, but somehow it’s still perfect.  It’s a very (y/n) look.

She kicks at his foot again.

“Yeah, sure, sounds good” He finally snaps himself out of his daze.

“You okay upstairs?”  She asks him playfully.

“Are you asking me if I’m crazy?” Richie asks, just as they make their way out of the school, and down the front steps.

“No, never,” (y/n) laughs again.  “You just seem out of it..?” She speaks like it’s a suggestion, as though she’s asking him.

“You’re right, and I completely blame you for waking me up so early”

“Blame me?” (y/n) repeats.

“Yes! You were the one that made me wake up at the crack-of-fucking-dawn!” Richie retorts, whilst giggling because he can’t help it when he’s joking with her.

Somehow when he’s cracking jokes with the others, he always laughs loudly, his friends find it annoying.  But with (y/n), his boisterous laughs faded into childlike giggles.

“Well excuse me for being a romantic,” She said, playfully narrowing her eyes at him.  “I thought you would understand”

Richie’s brows crinkle, and he looks down at her with an amused smile.

“Me? You thought I’d understand?”

“Yes!” She answered enthusiastically.

“And what in the fuck makes you think I’m a romantic?” Richie asked with a snort, but he was starting to blush.

“Obviously because you bothered to come with me this morning,” (y/n) answered, a bright smile on her face.  “If you weren’t a romantic, then you wouldn’t have come”

“That doesn’t-”

“Awe Richie, you can admit it,”

He thinks his heart stopped in his chest, and he’s about to die.

“You wanted me to find loooove” She sing-songs the word, and it made him roll his eyes.

“Oh toots, you think far too highly of me” He tells her in his poor british accent.

“No, I don’t think so,” (y/n) shakes her head.  “I just think you don’t want to admit it.  You just wanna be the cool guy”

“So you think I’m romantic and cool?” He asks, and now she’s the one to roll her eyes, but it’s an affectionate action, and accompanied by a bright smile.

“Don’t be so full of yourself” She says, before sticking her tongue out at him.

“I’m just repeating your words toots,” He responds.  “You flatter me”

She laughs, despite herself, and he beams back at her.

“Yeah, well, you’re also a dummy” She murmurs, but it doesn’t hinder Richie’s good mood.

He already knew that.  He just sure loved hearing those other things from her.

Once at the 7-Eleven, (y/n) made her same cherry and blueberry slushie, and then raced to the counter to pay for both of their drinks while Richie was too busy with making his terrible drink.

Just as he turned to head up to the register, he found her standing there, a smirk on her face while she sipped on her drink.

“You didn’t” He groaned, but she lifted a shoulder and gave him a knowing look.

“I did” She replied with a grin, and nodded her head for him to follow her outside.

“You’re the worst” He mutters as he sits next to her.

She hums, holding her slushie between her hands and giving him a shit eating grin.

“That’s fair,” She responds, poking his arm teasingly.  “And you should know that you’re also the worst”

“That’s fair,” He mimics, and taps his cup against hers.

They drink in silence for a bit, besides a few jokes from Richie here and there that he can’t help.  But eventually she just has to get it off her chest.

“So, did you know?” She asks him, nervously looking over to him.  “About Bill? Did he ever… say anything?”

Richie knows then that the mistake he’s made is catastrophic.

“Um, no, he didn’t” He said, which isn’t technically a lie.

But then again, if you have to argue that it’s not a lie… it definitely isn’t the right thing to say.

“Oh” She mumbles, and moves her straw around in her cup, mixing the red and blue flavors.

“He’s probably just shy,” Richie blurts out.  “You know, otherwise he would’ve just handed you all that stuff”

“I suppose,” She agrees in a mumble.  “It’s just odd, you know, since you’re his best friend”

“I mean, best friends don’t always share everything”

“That’s not true, there’s nothing I wouldn’t tell Bev,” (y/n) tells him sincerely.  “And even when I have hid things, she’s always figured it out anyways.  She’s always had a way of reading me,” She giggles softly as she reminisces on how good of a friend she has.  “Don’t you tell him everything?”

“Well- kind of,” Richie’s still stammering, as a result of him bending over backwards to keep his secret.  “I know that, um, well he’d do anything for me,” He says.  “And I’d do the same for him too”

“That’s what best friends are, aren’t they?” (y/n) asks, looking back at him again.  “Someone you can trust and put before anyone else in the world? Someone worth fighting for?”

“You’re cheesy,” Richie says with a nervous laugh.

He has to stop himself from tugging at his collar, because fuck, he felt like he might just overheat.

“But that’s a good thing!” He adds impulsively.

(y/n) smiles.

“Mostly I think they’re secret keepers” She hums.

“I can’t imagine you have that many secrets” Richie replies, and again, she smiles at him.

“You’d be surprised,” She says, so softly he thinks she’s trying to tell him one, but he doesn’t understand it.  “But no, there’s not many”

“Tell me one” He says before he could think of something more suave.

She glances over at him,and one of her eyebrows quirks up in surprise.

“And what makes you think you’re so deserving of one of my secrets?”

“I just dare you to” Richie says, and a smirk tugs on his lips because he’s a piece of shit like that, but it makes (y/n) laugh.

“Well, if you dare me to, I suppose I’m obligated then, hm?”

“You absolutely are toots,” He says.  “So, are you a man or mouse?”

“I’m but a humble girl,” She says in her best horrible british accent, leaning over to him dramatically.

She can’t contain her laughter, which makes it all the more adorable to him, and he gazes at her fondly while her hands pat against his arm softly.

“But if my deepest darkest secrets are the entertainment you seek, then that is the entertainment you shall receive” She continues in her accent.

Richie rubs his hands together in a maniacal fashion, and he scoots closer to her with anticipation.

A part of her is screaming to tell him how she feels, that’s probably her greatest secret after all.  But she looks at him and reminds herself just why she can’t.

It was too hard just to become friends, to get past the barrier that had been (and still is) Eddie and Stan’s disapproval, so a friendship is just what she’d have to accept right now.

“Well, this isn’t exactly a secret,” She sighs, “But I guess you don’t know, it’s kind of a secret from you”

Richie’s brows furrow, but his lips turn into a smile as her hands wring together nervously.

“And what could you possibly have to hide from me, toots?” He asks, his smile still stuck on his face.

Her fingers are still fiddling as she meets his eyes, and she licks her lips before taking in a deep breath.

“Well, so, um, so you know how Stan and Eddie are always being… well, I think they’re overprotective for some odd reason, but they used to always drag me away? Whenever I was around you?”

“Yeah?” Richie asked, wondering where the hell she could be going with this.

“Yeah, well…”

“Well what?” Richie asked, dying to know.  “You realized they had good reasons?”

“What? No!” (y/n) swatted at his arm.  “Of course not, just the opposite, actually”

“The opposite?”

“Yes…” She responded in a huff.  “They told me that they weren’t going to invite you to movie night one time, and I… maybe… yelled a little,”

Richie smirked, enjoying the image in his head of (y/n) chewing out Stan and Eddie.

“And… well, I told them that I wanted to be friends with you whether or not they were happy about it.  And maybe they still like to cover my ears whenever you talk, and they still talk shit, but I- I don’t care,”

She realizes she’s rambling, and her hands are moving around rapidly in front of her, and suddenly she pauses to collect herself, before looking at him.

“Anyways, that’s why I asked you to walk me home from school” She finishes softly.

“Wait,” Richie shakes his head, and his brows furrow.  “I thought you said that Bowers started following you?”

(y/n) gives him a sheepish smile, before shaking her head.

“Nope,” Her voice was barely a mumble.  “I tricked you into being friends with me”

Richie let out a scoff, before his lips pulled into a wide grin, and he nudged his shoulder down against hers.

“You sly little devil,” He teased, and he couldn’t miss the blush spreading over her cheeks.  “You deceived me?”

“Yep,” She shrugged.  “That’s how desperate I was” She adds with a shy laugh.

His heart is soaring, and for a minute, he forgot about the mess he’d gotten himself into.

“Well you must have been lonely seeing as you were looking for my friendship” He teased, but she shook her head at him.

“Don’t talk like that, you’re one of my closest friends, I love hanging out with you,”

Oh fuck, this girl will be the death of me.

“I don’t regret any of it, not at all” She adds sweetly.

And goddamnit, the look on her face is so sincere, so kind, and if he weren’t such a fool, he probably would have kissed her right then and there.

“You are a romantic,” He tells her instead, and her small smile widens.

Richie reaches his hand out, offering to take her empty cup to throw away.  She thanks him as she hands it to him, and watches him as he gets up and tosses it in the bin at the front doors.

When he comes back to her, he extends his hand again, but this time his silent offer is to help her stand.  She takes it, without hesitation, and he pulls her to her feet.

“Ready to go?” He asks, letting go of her hand after lingering for just one extra second.

(y/n) nods, adjusting her backpack as she walks with him in the direction of home.  She doesn’t ask him to walk her home, and he doesn’t offer, but they both know he is, because he always does.

They talk more, about anything they can think of, really.  School, their friends, random rumors going around that can’t be true but sure are fascinating to talk about.  They cover anything and everything- except for Bill, except for the notes and the flowers, and for the ten minutes it takes to get (y/n) home, Richie lives in a world where it doesn’t even exist.

It’s not until they reach her doorstep that he remembers.  Not by choice- but he can’t help but be reminded of it every time her eyes meet his.

“As always Tozier,” (y/n) sighs, her hands latching onto his wrists as she smiles up at him, “Thank you for walking me home”

He smiles back at her, but it isn’t his typical shit eating grin.  It’s small and soft, it’s loving.

“Every time, toots” He tells her sweetly.

There’s a small laugh that comes out of her in a breath, and she squeezes his wrists gently before letting go.

“See you tomorrow Rich” She says, and turns to her door.

He starts to go, but the further he gets the more of a weight he feels on his shoulders, to the point that he knows if he doesn’t turn around, he might collapse on her driveway.

So he does just that, he spins around, and walks back up to her.

“Wait, (y/n/n)?”

“Yeah?” She asks, blinking at him, waiting patiently for him to continue, which for some reason it’s taking him a moment to speak again.

“Do you want to walk to school together in the morning?”

Her head tilts just barely to the side at his odd and sudden request, but a smile blossoms on her lips, and she nods her head.

“Sure” She agrees delightedly.

“Okay,” He nods back at her, and some of his guilt washes away.  “I’ll pick you up this time”

“Okay,” She repeats.  “I’ll be waiting”

Again, he’s nodding, but it’s rapid and nervous and he can almost hear his own heart beating inside of his head.

“Okay, bye” He says, stepping back to leave this time.

But goddamn it he can’t do it, he can’t move, not a single muscle, he’s frozen there in front of her doorstep, nearly a statue, struck by anxiety and guilt and worst of all, love.

He can’t stop himself, the words tumble out before he even thinks about their consequences.

But this is what happens when it comes to (y/n), he can’t control his actions whatsoever.  His heart takes the wheel and does whatever the fuck it wants, and it wants (y/n) more than anything in the whole fucking world.

(Richie agrees with this, but he thinks maybe if his heart could dial it back a little, then he wouldn’t be so scared all the time, like he is right now)

“It was me” His heart speaks for him, without warning, without a plan.  It just wants to speak the words into existence.

Not just to his friends at the lunch table, that wasn’t enough.  It needed (y/n’s) own ears to hear.  Richie wanted (y/n) to hear.

“What?” She asks, turning around to face him.

Her question is genuine, she doesn’t understand what he’s referring to, but something about the look on his face, the one of sheer guilt from the short confession, tugged at her deep down.  And deep down, she knew exactly what he was telling her.

She could translate what he truly meant just from the way his eyebrows creased, and how he was chewing at the inside of his cheek, and grinding his teeth.

“All of it, everything, it was all me” He went on.

“Richie, what do you…?” She starts to question him, but as she stares back at him, her words fail her, and she can only let out a soft breath.

“I just- I wanted you to know the truth, and I didn’t want to fuck up your friendship with Bill, I’m sorry for that”

“He… he wasn’t…?”

Still, she’s slowly going mute, as she drops her bag to the ground, and rummages through it for the most recent gift, the note that she’d seen Bill put into her locker.

“But I… but we… I saw…”

She knows she sounds idiotic, and she wished she’d been able to properly collect her thoughts and ask him complete questions, but she’s just so shocked.

She had been so certain that it couldn’t have been Richie.

Her hands are trembling as she opens the folded note, eyes scanning it swiftly.

“What’s it say?” Richie asks, and her eyes flicker up to his, before going back to the paper in her hands.

“It-” She starts, but her throat swells up and she chokes for a second.  “It says- um,”

Her brows are furrowing, eyes trained on the few words scrawled across the whole sheet of paper.  The writing is haphazard, but still, whoever had written it had done so perfectly, as it fit right in the center of the page.  The longer she studied it, the more she realized it just had to have been Richie.

“It says I’m- I’m so-”

“I’m so fucking in love with you,”

Richie speaks up, and she looks up from the page, staring at him with her brows knit together, and her lips parted in shock.  She’s taking in short little breaths, trying to calm her eager heart.

“That I don’t know what to do with myself” He finished, and promptly kicked his shoe against the ground.

She’s still staring at him, waiting for more of an explanation, or waiting for him to tell her he was kidding and then run off down the street.

It couldn’t have been more clear to her that he was being absolutely sincere.

“Yeah,” Richie huffs.  “Um, it really was all me”

(y/n) blinks at him, before folding up the note again, and sliding it carefully back into her bag.

“Then what about this morning?” She whispered meekly.  “And you looked at them all- talked about it with me like- like-”

“I didn’t want you to know,” Richie shrugged, and stuffed his hands into his pockets.  “That was… it was the point of it being anonymous”

“Richie…” (y/n) starts, and he braces himself, staring down at the ground, silently praying it would swallow him whole right now.  “I… I really thought it wasn’t you”

His head shoots up, because that’s not what he expected.

“What?”

“I- yeah- that first, um, note, I kinda thought that maybe you’d… you know, written it,” She says softly.  Her hands start to wring together again.  “But from the way you’d reacted to it I just thought there was no way and… it sucked”

He shakes his head in disbelief, and the action makes her crack a smile, because he looks so confused and it’s so cute and utterly Richie.

“You- you wanted it to be me?” He asks, brows deeply furrowed as he stares at her skeptically, unsurely.

She bites down on her smile as she nods her head in confirmation.

“Yeah.  Yeah of course I wanted it to be you,” She whispers.  “I just really didn’t think it could have been, especially when you went on that stake out and the flowers-”

“(y/n),” He cuts her off, stepping forward until there’s the smallest amount of space between them, and she has to tilt her head back to keep their eye contact.  “I have to know, do you have feelings for me too?”

His glasses are sliding down his nose as he stares down at her, the look in his eyes intense as they flicker in between hers, searching for any sign at all.  He needed to know if this was the single greatest mistake of his life, and he’d live the rest of his days a lonely fool-

“Richie,” She murmurs back, a slight shake in her head as her own eyes wander the features of his face, mapping out every freckle, every dip, every crease.  She’s consumed by her own love for him and he didn’t even know it yet.

She doesn’t finish her thought, because she can’t help but lean in and capture his lips.  It’s a tentative kiss, because it’s new and she’s never kissed someone that she’s liked this much before.

Her hands were slow as they lifted from her sides, and pressing lightly against his shoulders.

When she pulled away, it took a second for her to process what just happened.  Meanwhile Richie was staring at her intensely, trying to get a read on her.

She’s starting to smile, and finally her eyes flutter open.

And all at once, he doesn’t feel like this is such a catastrophic mistake.

His fingers reach up and brush against her jaw tenderly.  Her eyes are half lidded, and trained on his lips.

“Sorry,” She mumbles.  “I just wanted to-”

“I get it” Richie shakes his head, cutting her off.

His hands slid up her jaw before cupping around her cheeks, and then slammed his lips down against hers.  She didn’t even have time to take in a breath before their lips connected, and she stumbled back at first but when she threw her arms around his neck she caught her balance and kissed him back passionately.

She’d never felt such a clarity though, and she thought she was going to float right off the ground.

It was like she’d been waiting for this one amazing kiss for a long time now, and it was everything she’d hoped for and more.

Richie’s fingers slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head and pulling her impossibly closer to him, as close as he could get her without picking her up and clutching her body against his.

He was dying to do that though.

“I can’t believe it,” (y/n) mumbled in between kisses.  “I love you too,” She added, her lips moving against his before attaching again, kissing him just a bit harder.  “And I-”

“You do?” Richie pulled away, and his hands dropped back to cradle her face sweetly.

She beams at him, before nodding her head in a choppy fashion.

“Yeah,” She mumbled, smoothing her hands over his shoulders, before gliding down his arms.  “I do”

His grin matches her own, and it's hard to bite it back so that he can kiss her again. ___

It was two weeks later when (y/n) found herself placing flowers in Richie’s curls while he was passed out.

The Loser’s Club had gone to the quarry, planning to spend the whole Saturday there.  And it was the first group thing that Richie and (y/n) were officially a couple at, but they also hadn’t all hung out properly in about a month, so it was a big deal.

Mike, Stan, and Bev brought all the food and snacks they could find that would keep in coolers.

Eddie and Bill brought drinks, sodas, waters, Eddie provided juice boxes that everyone made fun of but still drank anyways.

Ben brought a bunch of blankets for everyone to sprawl out on.

That left Richie and (y/n) in charge of the alcohol for the night, which pretty much meant Richie stealing as much as he could while (y/n) kept a lookout.  They had a system of bringing a bag full of empty bottles into a store, and sneaking liquor into the bathroom to transfer it into the bottles.

It was a skill they perfected on their first try.  Maybe it wasn’t moral, or legal, but they were seventeen, and stealing from their parents just wouldn’t get them enough alcohol for all eight of them.

They’d spent the whole day doing whatever they wanted.  Which was mostly swimming and drinking at the same time, despite Stan letting everyone know he would not help them if they drowned.  But now that the sun was starting to set and everyone was dwindling down, their party turned more into a calm night.

Maybe too calm, because Richie had passed out on one of the blankets.

But he had drunk quite a lot quite fast, spent twenty minutes picking every single flower and weed-that-looked-like-a-flower in the area, proclaimed them to be beautiful but never as beautiful as his girlfriend, and then pretty much dropped dead.

(y/n) was currently using the plants he’d picked now to lay them in his hair while he slept.  She laid on her stomach by his side, admiring how pretty he was as she did so.

“Are you making me a flower crown?”

Her eyes flickered down to his, not having expected him to say anything.

“I thought you were asleep?” She hummed.

“I was, but then the strangest thing happened,” Richie said, squinting up at her.  “I felt this- this presence, like an angelic, godly presence.  And next thing I know, there you are”

“Shut up,” (y/n) giggled, poking his cheek before rifling through her pile of flowers again.  “You’re such a nerd”

“I thought you liked that” He teased.

“Of course I do,” She murmured back.  “I just also think you should be reminded”

It was quiet for a moment while she focused on threading the stem of a dandelion perfectly through one of his curls.  After she’d made it as structurally sound as she could, she grinned, and gave him her attention again.

“And it’s not a flower crown,” She told him as she rolled onto her back, staying right next to him.  “But there are, like, a shit ton of flowers in your hair.  I had to do something with all the ones you picked for me”

He could hear Stan and Eddie making fun of him, while they sat not too far away taking turns drinking juice boxes and taking shots.  But it didn’t matter.  They would always tease him and (y/n), it was normal, and he came to terms with that the very day that (y/n) told him she loved him too, and they started going out.

It simply didn’t matter anymore.  Nothing they could say could matter.

“You want a juice box?” (y/n) asked, poking his cheek again because he had clearly zoned out.  “You drank a lot and then kinda just took a nap, you need something else in your system”

He smiles at her and nods.

“Sure” He answers, and starts to get up but (y/n) gently pushes him back down.

“Don’t move, you’ll mess up your flowers” She tells him, and then gets up to get them juice boxes.

Richie’s pretty certain he’s died and somehow was lucky enough to go to heaven.  He didn’t know how he pulled it off, but that made more sense than his reality.

I’m (y/n’s) boyfriend, he thinks, and then he repeats it to himself again and again.

She collapsed next to him again not a minute later, before handing him one of the juice boxes.

“Eddie’s kinda hoarding them,” She mutters, settling her head against his upper arm, which he wrapped around her to pull her closer.  “But he also accidentally got drunk, again, so I just took them when he wasn’t looking”

Richie chuckles, sipping away on the cheap drink, still lost in his own hazy thoughts.

(y/n) looks up at him, noticing his quiet state, and sets her box down.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” She asked softly, gazing into his eyes lovingly.

“Take a wild fuckin’ guess sweetheart,” Richie chuckled, and (y/n) rolled her eyes affectionately.  “I know, I’m a nerd”

She nods her head, and once again, pokes his cheek.  But her fingertip glides over his cheekbone and then along his jaw, tracing over his skin delicately.

“Yeah, but I love you for it”

His lips turn up into a cheesy grin, and he gives her a quick kiss that makes her cheeks flush pink.

He’s had two (amazing) weeks of watching her blush like that every time he kisses her, and it’s his new favorite thing.

“Richie,” She hums.  “I’m so fucking in love with you that I don’t know what to do with myself-”

“Ha ha,” Richie can’t help but roll his eyes while (y/n) giggles, thinking she’s so funny for repeating his own words back to him.  “You’re gonna do that all the time now aren’t you?”

“Oh yeah,” She nods her head seriously.  “All the time.  Probably every day, hell, I’ll start calling you before I go to bed to remind you”

He finishes his juice box so that he can wrap both arms around her.

“I’d be okay with that”

“Good” She mumbles back happily.

“But you know that makes you a nerd too” He tells her.

She tilts her head back to look at him, before kissing him fully, her lips lingering against his for a second after she pulls away.

“That must be why we’re so perfect together” She says with a cheeky smile.

“Yeah yeah, you cheeseball,” Richie teases, and tugs her against him.

They lay and enjoy each other’s company, and the atmosphere of their friends.

Ben’s telling Beverly about how he helped Richie write his first note, and Mike and Bill are drunk wrestling horribly in the grass.  It’s an odd mix of things to listen to while one is trying to enjoy the sunset with their significant other, but something about it still felt right.

Richie breaks the silence just as (y/n) is considering napping with him.

“You’re right”

___

taglist: @lemonypink @darling-egg​ @fiantomartell​

a/n: this was um really fun to write even tho it took me a month lmao

#richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier scenario #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier fanfiction #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x reader

[christmaximumpunishment]

A Mondo Owada/Kazuichi Soda Fic

Monday: Flowers, Festival, Fireworks

Summary: Mondo has a special plan for the school festival, and only the best mechanic in town can help him.

Kazuichi Soda’s heart sank when he heard some rumbling down the street. He only worked the shop for a few hours after school, but it was always this last hour that had all the worst customers. When he finally saw a Kawasaki motorcycle pull into the shop’s parking lot, he knew he’d landed a last-minute headache. It was mostly the heinous pompadour on the driver. 

Man, ever since I dyed my hair pink I’ve gotten nothing but punks hanging around me at school. Now I gotta deal with em here, too?

Kazuichi grumbled in his head. He’d seen biker gang-types at school before, but he’d done his best to keep his distance. 

People like that...can’t be trusted.

Not wanting to interact any more than necessary, Kazuichi went back to his tinkering and waited for his latest headache to walk into the office next door and order properly. His dad could handle all of the talking. 

Mondo Owada pulled up and parked just outside of the shop. Seeing someone working in the shade of the garage, Mondo took two steps away from his bike before squinting to see inside. He could tell someone was there, but they kept working, instead of greeting him. Instead of looking around for an attendant or sign, Mondo shouted across the parking lot. “HEY ASSHOLE, DOES KAZUICHI SODA WORK HERE?”

Kazuichi jumped at the sudden mention of his name. He started to duck under his work bench, but his hand caught a wrench sitting on top. His head tucked under the top of the bench just in time for the wrench to tip off the edge and onto his head with a light, but dense *thwack.*

"Ow!" whined Kazuichi, standing back up and rubbing his head involuntarily. "Who… who wants to know?"

Mondo had wandered a bit closer by now, and could finally make out the mechanic's face under the shade. "Mondo Owada, and what do you mean who wants to…Oh hey, there you are, you son of a bitch! Pink hair, just like they said," Mondo chuckled. "I've been looking all over for you, you little shit."

Kazuichi picked up his assailant wrench and started fidgeting with some metal pieces strewn about his workspace. He was trying not to make eye contact until he could figure out if he was relieved the larger boy was happy to see him or threatened by his abrasive way of talking. "Look man, I don't know who sent you my way, but my dad handles the orders in the office next door. If you got something you need, take it up with him."

"No man, my business is with you. Special order. My buddies told me no grease monkey in town would take this job, expect you. Sounds to me like you've got what I need. So hear me out, man."

Here we go, another punk buttering me up so he can ask whatever he wants of me. I'll probably say yes too, damn it.

Kazuichi tried to stay focused on the *very important* scraps in front of him. He'd have an easier time keeping his nerve if he didn't look the biker in his eyes. They were...a little distracting. And intense, definitely mostly just intense. "Come on man, not like I don’t have my hands full already, you know?” But the mechanic knew it didn't matter. It’s not like he was going to risk a black eye over one job, and with a sigh, Kazuichi caved. “Alright fine, what do you want? Illegal rewiring or something?"

"No, what? I want rockets on my bike, man."

Kazuichi felt those words fly through his skull and come right out the other side. “Wait, what did you just say,” the boy stammered, barely able to contain his optimism.

“Jesus Christ, I said ‘rockets,’ man. Like fireworks? I’m trying to plan a stunt for fuck’s sake. And I heard you were the guy to go to.”

The young mechanic started seeing stars, and briefly questioned how hard he’d hit his head. “A, a motorcycle stunt?! With fireworks?! That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard of!”

The neat but snaggle-toothed grin from the mechanic gave Mondo a pause, before he shot back with a smile of his own. “Well I’ll be damned, so you do have what I need. With a crazy bastard like you with me, I might just pull this off!”

“Yeah, yeah! I can totally think of some ways to rig up some extra gadgets on that ride. This is gonna be so...what, exactly?” The mental image of the muscular biker riding through the sky with streamers and colored smoke trails had become so vivid in the boy’s mind, he’d almost forgotten how little he knew about this plan he was agreeing to. “Sorry, guess I got a little carried away. What’s this all for?”

“You don’t know, man? We go to the same school right?” Mondo shook his head, then sat in an empty stool across from Kazuichi’s workbench. If he was going to have to explain all this, he was going to be comfy. “It’s for the school’s fireworks event in a few weeks. This dipshit in my class got put in charge of the show this year, but he’s got a giant stick up his ass. Said something about how we couldn’t set off anything that was against school regulations. So I say ‘Fuck that.’ If he’s not going to put on a decent show, I’ll do it my-fucking-self. So, are you going to help me, or am I just wasting my fucking time?”

“Are you kidding me? That sounds awesome! No one’s ever asked me to put rockets on something before. Last time I did that, I got smacked for messing with the school’s field striper.”

“That was you? Oh man, that shit was fucking hilarious! All those assholes in the field, running after it and shit? You’re a fucking genius, you goddamn weasel!”

Kazuichi broke eye contact again. This guy had some nerve bringing up one of his mess-ups like that and being so...nice about it. “Well it wasn’t supposed to do that. Not exactly like that anyway. I wasn’t finished yet, okay!”

“Well, I’ll come by a lot to see how it’s going, so there won’t be any doubt from me on how you’re doing,” Mondo said, getting off of the workshop stool he’d helped himself to.

“What, are you nervous I’m going to mess up your bike or something? I know what I’m doing, man! I’m not just some dipshit, you know!”

“No duh, dipshit,” Mondo retorted as he put his hands on his hips, “you wouldn’t be going near my bike if I didn’t think you knew what you were doing. Why do you think I’m all the way out here, talking to your grease-monkey ass? I’m just pumped up, that's all. Shit’s gonna be awesome, you know?”

Does this guy...believe in me? I haven’t even done anything yet, and he’s already excited for my work?

Kazuichi couldn’t help but second-guess his suspicious first impression of the loud, vulgar boy. He was very used to being asked to make and do all kinds of things. But any time he can remember doing something for his father or ex-best friend, any praise for him came much later, much milder, or not at all. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re right! This is gonna be totally awesome! Leave it to me, Mondo!”

Kazuichi stepped out from behind his workbench and stepped closer to Mondo, offering his hand to the other boy. Mondo reciprocated with a smile, and the two boys shook hands enthusiastically. When they stopped shaking, Mondo said, “I can’t wait to see the look on that asshole’s face when we kick the shit out of his lame-ass fireworks show. You’re gonna come with me and watch, right?”

“Of course! No way I’d miss a stunt like that! I gotta make sure it goes off without a hitch.”

“Alright, it’s a promise then!"

With that Kazuichi slunk behind his table again, ready to resume work. To his surprise, Mondo made himself at home on the same stool, rather than making his way out.

After a brief lull in the conversation, Mondo spoke up. "So...uh… what kind of rockets were you thinking? Cuz I got some guys under me that could get us some pretty crazy shit."

"Yeah, you got it!"

"Oh, uh… I'm not quite sure. Honestly I've got some projects to get to before I can work on your bike. You might wanna bring it by tomorrow. I’ll come up with something by then." Kazuichi was a little nervous to be put on the spot, but he wasn't lying. While much of what he'd been nervously tinkering with was junk, he had a pretty sizable to-do list on his clipboard, and only an hour before he'd be reporting in with his dad.

Mondo scratched at the back of his head and said, with less fire than before, “Yeah alright, I’ll get out of your hair then. I’ll see you tomorrow. This Summer Festival is gonna be fucking awesome though!”

“S-Summer Festival?! Wait, your stunt is for the Summer Festival?” Kazuichi began nervously clawing at his beanie. This new realization might have hit his head harder than the wrench did moments ago. 

“Yeah, no shit man. What other school event would have fucking fireworks at it? You seriously just now put that shit together?”

“I usually skip school events, so I wasn’t really paying attention to the schedule. But I had plans for this one. I was going to ask Miss Sonia to go with me...” He hadn’t thought about her in a little while, but with how busy he was about to be, the thought of asking the Ultimate Princess out seemed more daunting than normal.

Mondo had been chuckling at the mechanic losing his cool over a silly mistake, but he wasn’t laughing at this. “Fuck that, man. You should’ve thought of that before you made a promise to me. Tell your girlfriend you’ll catch up with her later or something, I don’t fucking care.” 

Kazuichi felt all of the anxiety pooling in his stomach rise up at this comment. He snapped back at his new friend, “Miss Sonia’s not my girlfriend, okay?! That festival was gonna be our first date, you know? If she...had time...and wanted to go...with me.”

Kazuichi thought he heard Mondo soften his tone just a little as he scolded back, “Look man, if it means that much to you, fine. Ask this girl out if you think you’ve got a chance... I won’t make you go with me if you don’t want to. But don’t fucking promise that quickly like it’s not a big deal, got it?”

The biker’s words hit surprisingly hard when he lowered his voice. Kazuichi muttered remorsefully, his guilt growing. “Look man, it’s not that I don’t care about giving my word or some shit like that. I just...this could be my big chance! A big festival with an awesome fireworks show *I* helped make? This might finally be my big break! She might actually say ‘yes’ this time!” The mechanic did his best to sound optimistic, but... 

God, it sounds so fuckin’ pathetic when I say it out loud.

But what sympathy Mondo had burned away quickly. He leaned forward in his stool and fired off, incredulously, “what the fuck do you mean, ‘this time?’ You mean you already struck out? How many times have you asked this chick out?”

“I don’t know! You think I’d keep track of something like that? Geez, are you trying to make me depressed?”

“Like hell you don’t know! I’ve struck out the past eight fucking times I asked someone out! But you better believe they were eight different people!” 

...people? What’s this guy implying? And what’s his problem, anyway?

“Look Mondo, I just...only have eyes for Miss Sonia. I haven’t fallen for any other girls...er...people, since I first saw her. And besides, she could change her mind, right? You can’t say she won’t!”

“It doesn’t matter if she changes her mind, you dipshit. If she said ‘no,’ there’s your answer. Fucking done. If she has second-thoughts later, that’s her fucking business. Leave her alone man. Go find someone else.”

That’s it? Just give the fuck up?

The mechanic was indignant. “Hey man, she’s not just some school girl, she’s a fucking princess! I’d never find someone like her if I gave up now!”

“I don’t care if she’s a princess or the goddamn Prime Minister! She’s a girl who’s not. Fucking. Into you. Jesus man, have a little self-respect! You’re the most capable mechanic in this city and you’re a fucking high school student! You’ve got the second-in-command of the largest biker gang in history asking around town for your mom-and-pop bike shop. You’re seriously gonna grovel on the ground like a fucking pig for people that don’t even like you? Do you wanna feel like a useless piece of shit? Because I can stomp you into the fucking ground if that’s how you wanna feel.” Mondo sounded angry now, and a little hurt. But he didn’t move toward the mechanic. He just burned his stare into the other boy’s eyes.

The gangster was more intimidating now than he had been the entire time he’d been in Kazuichi’s garage, but just this once, Kazuichi kept Mondo’s intense stare. He didn’t know what to say right away. 

I just met this guy today, and he’s gonna act like he knows me so well? He’s just another asshole here to kick me while I’m down.

But that feeling didn’t stick. It couldn’t stick. The biker had been loud. He’d been vulgar and aggressive and pushy. But he’d...believed in Kazuichi. Seen him as more than a fuck-up, more than a punk, more than...a pig. 

He said he wants to go with me. When has anyone wanted me around, when nothing else needed to be built? Who else has liked me for what I liked or what I was passionate about?

When he did manage to speak, he finally broke Mondo’s stare and looked down at his tools. “What am I...doing, man? You came into my garage, what, twenty minutes ago? And you can already say shit like that to me? How am I supposed to handle another two weeks of you cutting me to my core like that, huh?”

Mondo was ready to snap back, but the slight vulnerability and joking tone of Kazuichi’s words made him rethink speaking too quickly. But eventually he did speak, and his tone hummed with the smile he was forming. “Well, if you can learn to quit being a dipshit, I’ve got no problem easing off of you. You’ve got a lot of good to you, Kazuichi. When you’re not being a dumbass.”

“Well, you’ve got two weeks to help me work on it. Guess it’ll be payback for this special order of yours. And then...we’ll show that festival what the hell the two of us can do.”

“You got yourself a fucking deal, Soda.”

It was a deal neither boy needed to shake hands on or promise to keep.

#danganronpa #mondo owada #kazuichi soda #mondo x kazuichi #kazuichi x mondo #sdr2 #danganrarepairweek2021 #my writing

[cassthecringe]

OKAY IVE ACTUALLY PLAYED TWO SESSIONS SINCE MY LAST POST SO IM GONNA COMBINE THEM HERE SORRY FOR THE LENGTH BUT,,IVE COME SO FAR I DONT WANNA STOP NOW

this is gonna be very messy cause i WILL be jumping back and forth as things come back to mind so uhh pls enjoy this absolute ramble <3

anyway. i continued playing omori and boy do i have some Thoughts

so first session; i went through the pyre(something i forgot the full name sob) forest/sprout mole village/sweetheart’s castle in one go and let me TELL YOU. DOING THAT WAS FUCKING INSANE I WENT NUTS holy shit.

so anyway.

pyre forest!!!! the lil race against the big spider coming after u for disturbing the smaller spiders mechanic was very fun i had a lot of fun figuring out the best routes to take. i know normally mechanics like that lead to ppl getting frustrated cause u have to keep retrying but i had a lot of fun!!!! sum annoyance but good natured type, th kind that just makes u try harder u know? i just enjoyed it JKFN;FN; candles in the foggy forest....now That is an aesthetic

the rare bear scared the fuckin shit out of me i remember it didn’t attack me straight away so i was like “aw (:” but then when i press x on him it takes me to a BATTLE SCREEN AND SUDDEN THAT MF IS TERRIFYING I WAS LIKE WHWHWHWHWKJDNJ. very funny i honestly wished i recorded my reaction

also omori is afraid of drowning...................................i am breathing heavily. i think whatever happened to mari is related to at least one of the things omori is scared of. so either heights, spiders, or drowning it seems. spiders doesnt seem super likely as a contributor to her death, and while falling from a height is more realistic, such a senseless way of dying doesnt seem to rlly fit ? with the vibe i get from the kiddos in the real world. which makes me think maybe drowning/otherwise suffocating is how she died...but we’ll see. also due to the forgotten library part, we know omori explicitly feared spiders/drowning before mari died so it’s also probable im jus talking out my ass here but still,,,,thoughts

also this motherfucker?

literally fucking terrifying. IT’S BODY IS MADE OF SUCC’D SPROUT MOLES...i still have no idea what exactly it was doing to them but jesus h christ!!!! evil and fucked up. do not feel bad for curbstomping it

sprout mole village!!!! very cute, im v excited to send that one dude his brother’s care package. i like how, when theyre not lost, sprout moles can be real endearing lil guys,,,theyre not my fav lil enemies but (:

also for some reason omori is the first game ive played where i really care about getting achievements ? so i literally did the back and forth on my save file just to get all the season sprout mole achievements JKDJFJ;. i ended up sticking w spring tho before moving on for real cause spring is my fav season irl (:

also i felt SO BAD for cutting down that one sprout mole’s chistmas tree he was just trying to celebrate but i wanted to see that present and coincidentally becoming a christmas ruiner was an achievement so all’s fair in love and war i suppose

ALSO. th fuckin plant monster thing under the scientist sprout mole’s room. major little shop of horror vibes from the design, absolutely adored it!!!!! originally i did  just cut the wire holding the piano over it, ending it in one go, but i was very curious abt it so i reloaded a save file to actually fight it and

i know it only spread that gas to make the kiddos happy cause being happy reduces attack i think ? it decreases attack/defense but seeing the kiddos smile so much was nice (:

however

omori...sunny....son boy.........u good ?

and now. sweetheart

the way the sprout moles completely adore and depend on sweetheart gives me such awful evil vibes and combined with such a luxurious background was fucking incredible

sweetheart herself, speaking of. bitch (sorta affectionately, certainly not derogatory)

i talked to every sprout mole in the audience before taking my seat and i literally dont know why. even when i picked up the pattern of where the unique dialogue could be found (usually the sprout moles farthest right) i still talked to all of them......just in case ? i have no idea. i dont know why i did that. i feel it’s important that i note it tho

LMAO SO WHEN SPROUT MOLE MIKE DID THE MINUTE OF SILENCE FOR YE OLD SPROUT MOLE

I LITERALLY FELT SO FUCKING BAD LMAO I WAS LIKE OH MY GOD NO!!!!!! I DID THAT!!! I KILLED HIM!!! OH MY GOD!!! I WONDER HOW AWKWARD OMORI KEL HERO AND AUBREY FELT IN THE AUDIENCE HOLY SHIT THEY HAD FRONT ROW SEATS TO SPROUT MOLE MIKE’S MOURNING!!! MY GOD FJKFN;;

also sprout mole mike describing 3′7″ inches as ”towering” was the FUNNIEST shit i have ever seen. also i have to wonder, since sweetheart made up the whole show of sweetheart’s quest for hearts in the first place, if she was seriously down to marry a sprout mole if one suited her fancy. jus v funny to me honestly. SPEAKING of sweetheart’s dating patterns I NOTICED THOSE FEM SKELETONS IN THE DUNGEON!!!!! BI SWEETHEART!!!! SHE’S JUST AS DOWN FOR GIRLS AS SHE IS BOYS

i know TECHNICALLY not everyone is in the dungeon for failing to be a good enough suitor but STILL...COME ON. THIS WAS BEFORE WE KNEW THAT. SWEETHEART BI I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

anyway

when the lights when out and lightning struck the third contestant, i knew Immediately something was gonna go down. and when the mustache sprout mole was like “oh yes!! u!! in the striped pjs!! u absolute beast ur perfect!!!” i KNEW hero had just been selected as the replacement i was goign completely fucking nuts i was like OH MY GODNFNG; HIS HEART IS ALREADY TAKEN BY MARI!!!!!!! STOP

i ended up taking so many screenshots during this part cause i was going feral so here take a glance just cause i love, uh, hero

OUR HERO IN SHINING ARMOR DJLBH;KFJB

also GOD FUCKING DAMMIT IM SHORTER THAN HERO

hero shaking on the stage when he was introduced...oh my HEART....IM SO FOND FOR THIS BOY WTF!!!!! DKJDN;N

this is not really NEWS to me since it’s implied hero is tall but like come ON..... sorry just every time i find out a character is explicitly taller than me i need to huff about it, moving on,

HERO FUCKS

sorry i just have so many screenshorts during this aprt cause i was going fucking crazy but

literally terrifying! sweetheart bathes in that shit!! christ!

is blood good for ur skin? i imagine, so long as like...gore isnt in it and it’s solely blood it cant be BAD necessarily......but good ? regardless very fucked up. besides the fact that well, uh, BLOOD, blood is also sticky as hell. ur telling me sweetheart willinglhy bathed in that shit? disgusting. at least thin it out

anyway I HAD SO MUCH FUN DOING THE PUZZLES AT SWEETHEART’S CASTLE....FROM THE DUNGEONS TO THE KITCHENS TO THE BALLROOM TO THE LIBRARY TO THE GARDENS JUST EVERYTHING!!!! IT WAS SO FUN I ENJOYED FIGURING IT OUT SO MUCH IT WAS LITERALLY DELIGHTFUL...I LOVE THIS GAME SO MUCH THE GAMEPLAY IS SO FUCKING EPIC I LITERALLY HAVE SO MUJCH FUN.......OH MY GOD I JUST. INCREIDBLE!!!! FUCK

also the lil sir maximus bit.........i honestly felt really awful over having to kill them ): i think i even tried running once but it wouldnt let me...it hurt man ): they were just a family....

um but anyway,

i think it was rlly sweet how aubrey protested to the wedding cause she was worried abt sweetheart,,,like i cant rlly explain it idk how to put it into words,,like sweetheart is clearly not mentally well and having an episode, and aubrey being the only one to say “hey what ur doing is self-destructive and isolating” just mmmh. she cares a lot,,,and *i* care aubrey

also sweetheart’s battle theme fucking SLAPPED...SO GODDAMN HARD IM STILL QUAKING OVER IT....FUCKING BANGER YO!!!!!! INCREDIBLE

ah but alas

BASIL........I NOTICED THAT IT WAS HIS GHOST/SHADOW DURING THE EXIT FROM OTHERWORLD AS WELL BUT JUST FUCK

im so worried about basil ):

and it being so obvious that none of the others can see...........them asking omori if he’s okay.....oh my god. i go nuts

and then...the forgotten library part

i literally cried, again, oh my fucking god

these kids loved each other so much they ADORED the time they spent with each other and im QUAKING to know WHAT HAPPENED TO MARI......HOW DID THE FALLOUT GO. I NEED TO KNOW I NEED TO KNOW I NEED TO KNOW

i know there are multiple endings to this game and on god i am not QUITTING until i get the happiest ending there is for these kids im literally a goddamn fuckign mess oh my god

MARI SHWOING UP IN THE LIBRARY AT ONE POINT AND LEADING OMORI...........IM LTIERALLY GOIGN INSANE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HE LOVED HIS SISTER SO MUCH HE’S SO CLEARLY LOST WITHOUT HER I CANT FUCKING DO IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. I NEED TO KNOW I NEED TO KNOW I NEED TO KNOW

GOD

okay sorry i just. ive said ti before but the grief in this game is so real and palpable and it aches, it aches so bad. also the white egret orchids in the library...i see u

but regardless.... session two real world electric boogaloo

LOVE that kel is like “so i need to run errands but u wanna come with me right? of course u do!” like fuck i rlly do. kel is just so delightful i would literally do anything to spend time with him

ALSO i noticed u can just refuse to open the door both times kel’s knocked now and it makes me wonder....if u could choose to ignore kel ? and then venture out urself or just ? i wonder what would even happen if u chose to not open the door. im CERTAINLY not doing it myself at the very least not this playthrough but i am curious...i bet that’s how u get a bad ending, by not talking w kel

but anyway....

aubrey and her gang not saying anything in the pizza parlor........i jus think abt that is all

ALSO!! pet rocks!!!!!!!!! LOVE this lil thing it’s so cute. jus rock paper scissors it babey

speaking of lil bits, love all the mini quests in the real world...it’s just rlly fun and builds up this cute lil town........it also makes me think that whatever happened to mari cant have been anything except an accident, bc no one comments on what a tragedy it was to omori. like if it was murder, there’s no way such a horrific situation wouldnt engulf the town for a bit and sweep over it for weeks at least, but that just doesnt seem to have happened. this is def me reading too into it tho;; point is neighbors nice (: also i got the seashell necklace and i go apeshit

ALSO......THE FUCKING...........CHURCH. I VISITED WITH KEL ON A COMPLETE WHIM CAUSE I WAS CURIOUS IF THE PASTOR WOULD TALK MORE ABT AUBREY BUT NO. INSTEAD HE TALKS ABT THE WEIRD VIBE FORM THE GRAVEYARD HE’S GETTING!!! AND THE DUDE WHO CHILLS IN THE GRAVEYARD SAYS SHIT ABT THE SPIRITS GETTING READY FOR SOMEONE TO JOIN THEM!!!! BITCH WAHT THE FUCK

THERE’S NOF UCKING WAY THIS ISNT ABOUT BASIL. THERE IS NO!!! WAY!!!! I SWEAR ON GOD IF BASIL DIES I WILL LOSE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ESP CAUSE THERE IS LITERALLY NO OTHER WAY HE COULD DIE EXCEPT SUICIDE THAT’S WHAT IT HAS BEEN IMPLYING OVER AND OVER I GO NUTS I GO APESHIT NO NO NO NO!!!!!!!!!!!!

FUCK

OKAY SORRY I JUST. HHHHHHHHHHH

baby has acquired baby

kel’s family is rlly cute,,,,v heartwarming. i trust them

i do worry abt like...the stark difference between recognizing kel’s accomplishments and hero’s...i just idk. i just keep thinking abt that bit in kel’s story abt hero’s depression when his parents focused on hero and ignored him, and i just. kel’s family is good People but i worry if kel has a good support system...i jus........): i am watching

ahh THE BASIL MISSING PART MADE MY HEART LITERALLY FUCKING DROP..I WAS SO FUCKING PANICKED I WAS LIKE OH MY GOD THIS IS IT BASIL IS DEAD

THANKFULLY HE WASNT BUT HOLY GOD HOW THAT WHOLE SITUATION PANNED OUT MADE ME GO NUTS!!!!!!! BASIL...AUBREY...HER GANG.......FUCK OH M YOGD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

THANK G O D I SNOOPED AROUND KEL’S HOUSE BEFORE LEAVING I WOULD HAVE H A T E D TO FIGHT THEM ALL AT ONCE IM GLAD I WAS ABLE TO JUST PEPPER SPRAY THEM JESUS CHRIST

oh my god kim like asking for aubrey all concerned before deciding to trust her and leaving.....kim i diagnose u with lesbain

the whole fucking. basil almost drowning scene. i seriously feel like ive changed like as a person over it. i am thinking . i am thinking. i am only evee thinking about mari and how omori just loved her so much and how the thought of her gave him strength. th pic of her ghost holding omori’s hand in the water made me cry

MMMM BUT. HERO!!!

I DIE I DIE I DIE HE’S SO PRETTY FUCK ALSO HIM PICKING UP BASIL WOOOOOOOO THIS IS WHAT IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THAT’S WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT YEAHHHHHHHH

god i feel so bad about leaving aubrey tho. shes so clearly not okay and she so clearly did not mean to push basil in and oh my GOD I JUST...PLEASE....PLEASE CAN WE JUST TLAK TO HER I NEED TO TLAK TO HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I NEED TO FUCK

the ghosts of omori and aubrey on the swings made me cry out like i had been physically assaulted

AHH BUT THEN TAKING BASIL HOME AND WHILE HE’S IN HIS BED HE JUST SAYS “oh sunny...there’s not way out of this...is there?” I LITERALLY GO BUCKWILD APESHIT INSANE STUPDI!!!!!! BASIL YOURE PUTTING UP A LOT OF ALARMING FLAGS HERE!!! PLEASE DO NOT FUCKING DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!

FUCK. CHRIST. HELL. SHIT. THIS GAME IS DRIVING ME FUCKING CRAZY

GOD

oh my god but the day ending with hero and kel sleeping over at omori’s house...im kdnd im jkdim im not uhm okay THEY BUILT A BLANKET FORT PLEASE..I LOVE THEM

goddd hero going into the piano room....playing sum........and then asking omori abt the song he and mari used to play on violin...and then THE TITLE SCREEN MUSIC STARTS PLAYING....HI. HI HELLO HI YOU CANT FUCKIGN DO THAT HI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK YOUFBJFGJNGN;EJNE; IM GOIGN NUTS

also the name omori comes from the piano.............interesting...i wonder why sunny likes being called omori in the dreamscape...

god but omori not having a srs hallucination cause he’s w his friends and he feels safe...im gonna sob

However. i did glance into the bathroom mirror. AND INSTEAD OF THE EYE MF IT’S A DISTORTED AS HELL GHOST MARI???IM SO FUCKIGN SCARED. IM SO SCARED. WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK? CREEPY AS HELL!!!

ohh my god this GAME

so finally i ended up in whitespace again. do NOT like that omori is completely alone in the world!!! what the FUCK!!!!!!!! I AM SO SCARED AT ALL TIMES. im literally about to go play sum more tho after dinner so i will see what happens. god i jsut......this game is so fucking good it has me by the balls dude. SO glad i decided to play it bruh

anyway thanks for reading all of this if u did, it’s an absolute monster ik and ur a real one

#cass cries #omori #omori spoilers #more like cass goes CRAZY this is so long #also id dint proof read this sorry </3

[just-my-sickly-pride]

The Night Comes Down || Brian May x fem!Reader x Roger Taylor

summary || one of the first rules you’d ever made with brian, your friends-with-benefits, eight months ago, was that anyone could back out of the arrangement at any time, for whatever reason, and then everything would go back to normal. back to how it was. and that’s fine. you have no problem with that. you’re fine. you’re so fine. it’s... fine.

rating || no smut, but some implied explicit content. warning: there is a brief scene where reader is being heavily pressured into kissing someone at a party.

word count || 9.7k

author’s notes || all good things must come to an end! so i’ve been working on this series for over a year. how did that even happen?? anyway yes this is the end of the try series. no it’s not a happy ending. i debated back and forth for a long time whether to end the series or not, but it felt too weird not to. and i couldn’t figure out any reasonable ‘happy’ way for it to end. a big big big thank you to everyone who’s stuck with me for this entire journey, or part of this journey, or even if you’re just tuning in now - thank you! and if you’re still somehow invested in this little ’verse after all this time, don’t abandon me just yet 👀 p.s. i think i’ve ironed out most of the timeline issues but don’t look too closely. this series is not my proudest in terms of continuity

masterlist

tag list: @the-huttslayer​ @scorpiogemini @redspecialty​ @supersonicfreddie​ @killer-queen-xo​ @a-night-at-the-0pera​ @rogerscupboard​

     Part of you had known it was inevitable. Another part of you liked to pretend that it wasn’t. But it was.

    It still felt like it had come out of nowhere, though.

    Brian was watching you cautiously, adjusting the grip on his laptop and workbook. “Did you… want to say anything, or…?”

    “Um…” You blinked a couple times, and shook your head. “Uh, no, I’m just… surprised?”

    “I feel like I’ve mentioned her a few times,” Brian said.

    “Once or twice, maybe,” you said. “I didn’t know that you and her…”

    “Yeah.” Brian scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, we hooked up, like, two weeks ago, and then again a few nights ago, and we’ve been talking every day, so.”

    “Oh.” It sounded twisted, wonky, but you forced a smile onto your face, wondering why you felt so… uncomfortable hearing about this. “That’s great. And you like her?”

    “Yeah, I really do,” Brian said, and his voice sounded warm, and he had a little smile on his face, and something ugly and strange twisted in your gut. “And I want to take her on an actual date, but obviously, I’d feel a bit weird about it if I still had, y’know. A, uh, side arrangement. But you’re all right?”

    “Of course,” you said brightly. Side arrangement. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? That’s great, Brian, really. I’m – really glad you’ve found someone.”

    “It’s been a while, that’s for sure,” Brian said with a chuckle.

    “Are you going to tell Rog?”

    Brian frowned a little. “Um, no, I don’t think that’s necessary. I never had – anything with him. And he’s already met Dani, so.”

    “Oh!” Ah, Christ, that had sounded dreadful, even to your own ears. “Where– Where’d he meet her?”

    “The other day.” Brian gave you a sheepish smile. “The morning after. She ran into him in the kitchen.”

    You pushed a strained laugh out of you. “Oh, right, yeah, great.”

    Brian chuckled as well. “Yeah, it was a little awkward, but what can you do, right?”

    You swallowed, and nodded. Your face hurt from smiling.

    “You’ll love her,” Brian said. “She’s wonderful. She’s so smart, and funny, and she’s so pretty. I mean, so pretty. Absolutely beautiful. Completely knocked my socks off when I first saw her. Can’t believe she fancies me.”

    “Great,” you said. You were saying great too much. “She sounds–” Don’t. “–so great.”

    “She is.” Brian beamed. “You’ll have to meet her soon.”

    “I’m sure I will,” you said.

    “Yeah, I’m sure,” Brian said. He sighed happily. “Well, I should head off.”

    “Yeah, course,” you said. “Me too.”

    “I’ll message you,” Brian said. “We can arrange a dinner at the flat or something.”

    “Can’t wait!”

    Brian smiled, nodded in satisfaction, and then said, “All right, see you later.”

    “Bye!” You turned around and hurried away, in the opposite direction you needed to go.

    Hmm. Huh. Right. Okay. So. Brian just. He just.

    You went to the food court and sat down at the first available seat you could find.

    You took out your phone and immediately went to message Veronica.

    Brian just

    Your thumbs paused.

    He just what? He just found someone he wanted to date, and ended his arrangement with you. On paper, not that big of a deal. It was part of the unwritten contract of it all: any person was allowed to end things for whatever reason, and there would be no consequences. A rule you had written yourself, all those months ago.

    Side arrangement. Side piece. Dirty secret. Not as good as the real thing. Not as funny or smart or pretty or wonderful or beautiful as Danielle.

    You froze. Whoa, where had that come from?

    You weren’t jealous. You couldn’t have been jealous. You’d never wanted to date Brian. You still didn’t want to date Brian. You didn’t have a crush on him, and you never had. Brian didn’t break up with you.

    So what the everloving fuck was going on in your head right now?

    You put your phone away. Nope, you couldn’t go crying to Veronica for no damn reason. This had always been bound to happen, and now it had, so you just needed an hour or so to process it, and then things would be fine. You’d go back to normal.

-

    Your idea of ‘normal’ seemed to greatly differ from Brian’s.

     You didn’t hear from him for a week. Whereas before you’d talked every other day, he went almost totally radio silent. Every meme or message you sent was either seen and ignored, or responded to with a vague Haha or a thumbs-up.

    You met up with Roger on your usual catch-up night, but you hadn’t gotten very far into anything before he stopped and said, “You’re not really feeling it, are you?”

    You made a face. “Sorry.”

    “It’s fine.” He passed your shirt to you, and he fetched his from the floor and slipped it on. “So… Brian has a date tomorrow night.”

    You frowned. “He does?”

    Roger nodded. “Yeah, he didn’t tell you about it?”

    You looked down at your hands. “Um, no. He didn’t. I haven’t heard much from him, actually. After he… ended… things.”

    “Whoa,” Roger said, climbing onto the bed. “Wait, really? With you?”

    You nodded, and suddenly felt your throat close over. But you were not going to fucking cry about it, Jesus Christ. You swallowed it down, and gave Roger a mild look of interest. “Yeah. I didn’t even know he liked Dani, and then I ran into him at uni last week, and he just sort of said, ‘Hey, while I’m here,’ and then that was it. But I didn’t know the date was tomorrow night. He didn’t tell me.”

    “I’m sure he was just distracted,” Roger said. “He gets like that with a girl he likes.” He shook his head. “Damn, he must be serious about her.”

    “Yeah, must be.”

    Roger paused, and then said, “Are you… okay?”

    You shrugged. “Yeah, of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

    “I dunno, it’s a pretty big… thing to have ended.”

    “No, I’m fine,” you said lightly, giving him a smile. “We’re still friends. And I’ve still got you, right?”

    “Yeah,” Roger said, although he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

    “Yeah. So I’m good.” You sighed, willing away all the gross mess of emotions you were feeling. “I’m not really feeling going all the way, but making out sounds good, if you’re down.”

    Luckily, that immediately distracted Roger, and he didn’t ask any further questions. And you poured everything you had into your kisses, hoping it would distract you, too.

-

    You were hoping things would settle down for you, emotionally, over the next two weeks or so.

    But that didn’t happen. Everything grew to be so much worse. Exponentially. You didn’t know whether you hated Brian, or Dani, or hated them as a couple, or if you just hated yourself. You couldn’t bear to be in the same room as the two of them, and you hadn’t spoken more than ten words to Dani. The thought of trying to be friends with her turned your stomach. She wasn’t particularly annoying, and she wasn’t a bad person in any way, but just something about her face and her voice and her fucking presence in your life just infuriated you.

    You couldn’t get the idea out of your head that she looked like a mouse. Or a rat. Small pointy nose, big dark eyes, slight buck teeth. She was curvy, and at least a foot shorter than Brian, although it was hard to tell with the heels and platforms she always wore. Her hair was browny-blonde and long and thick, and she wore it slicked back in a pony, like Ariana Grande. Her ears glittered with delicate piercings. She liked to draw on freckles.

    She was pretty. For a rat.

    You did your best to hide how you felt about her. You thought you should’ve gotten a freaking Oscar for how well you hid it. At least from Brian. On the rare occasion that Dani wasn’t by his side, you let him talk about her, and did your best to seem encouraging.

    There was a part of you – a bigger part than you wanted to admit – that believed they were going to break up soon enough. Then things could go back to normal, and this weird hiccup could be forgotten.

    But they didn’t break up. They stayed together.

    And so you ended up ranting about it all to Veronica. You knew you were really going on about it, and somehow you kept finding things to say about the situation when you knew there was nothing really more to say. Veronica listened, to a degree. But her advice was sensible and responsible and mature and you really didn’t feel like being any of those things. You wanted to throw a goddamn tantrum.

    So you turned to Roger. Thank God for his high sex drive.

    He wasn’t completely clueless. You had an air of desperation about you that you knew he could sense, and knowing that was almost enough to make you draw away from him, too.

    Almost. But he always took such good care of you. It was selfish to keep asking him to meet up, but you felt like you would explode if you didn’t.

    About a month after Brian and Dani had started dating, you and Roger were making out on the couch. It was rough, as sex frequently had been these past few weeks, and Roger’s grip on your waist was bruising as you rocked against him. Things were moments away from moving to the bedroom, when the front door opened unexpectedly.

    You quickly looked up, a deer in headlights, and your stomach dropped.

    “Oh, sorry,” Brian mumbled, ducking his head.

    “No, it’s fine,” you said, and you’d tried to go for nonchalant, but your voice came out too sharp.

    Roger tilted his head back. “Hi.”

    “Hi,” Brian said. You watched as he kicked his shoes off and chucked his keys on the kitchen table.

    “Sorry,” he said again, shooting you a quick glance. “I’ll just, uh…”

    He hurried to his room.

    There you were, looking already thoroughly debauched, on his couch, in Roger’s lap, and Brian had just ducked his head and ran.

    You stared after him, your heart twisting around itself. He hadn’t even… He didn’t…

    Once, he would have taken one look at you and pounced on you. He would’ve begged to kiss you, would’ve torn your clothes off.

    Now, he acted like he’d walked in on Roger having a one-night stand with some girl he’d picked up at a bar. He acted like he’d never even been attracted to you at all.

    Was it really so easy for him to move on? Were you really that forgettable?

    “You all right?” Roger asked, his thumb touching your bottom lip.

    You snapped to look at him. Shit, how much had you let on? “Yeah,” you said with a smile. “Just lost in my thoughts, nothing important.”

    “You sure?” Roger asked.

    You bit your lip and nodded. “Mm-hm. How about you take me to your room and fuck all those stupid little thoughts out of me?”

    Roger paused for a moment, like he wanted to say something more, but your tongue darted out, lapping at the pad of his thumb, and you kept your eyes on his as you licked his thumb into your mouth. You watched, half excited, half relieved, as his eyes glazed over, his gaze fixated on your lips around his thumb.

     It sickened you to even think about it, but you definitely had a little voice in the back of your head that hoped Brian could hear Roger fucking you.

-

    “We should hang out,” you said to Brian. Just over a month, now. Final exams were breathing down everyone’s necks. It didn’t help your situation. “I feel like I never get to see you anymore. You’re with your girlfriend all the time.”

    You’d run into him at uni. That was almost the only way you got to see him these days. And he no longer hugged you hello or goodbye, just kept a firm, amicable amount of distance between you.

    He didn’t often look you in the eye these days, either. He shifted about whenever you talked, like he wanted to be somewhere else.

    “Mm, yeah, maybe,” he said.

    You swallowed down the hurt. “How about a movie night? Or we could just hang out, just the two of us.”

    “Um.” Brian scratched his nose. “I’m pretty busy at the moment. Maybe we could do a group thing? That’d be fun. Me and Dani, John and Veronica, you and Rog.”

    You frowned. “Me and Rog?”

    “Yeah.”

    “We’re not together.”

    Brian shrugged. “I just thought– Well, I think it’d be nice. You two suit each other.”

    “We don’t want to be a couple, Brian. What are you on about?”

    “I just think it’d be good for you, that’s all. Being in a relationship is, well, really nice, and I think maybe you and Rog should at least give it a go.”

    You were gobsmacked. You wanted to throw something, yell a stern reminder of, Hey, are you fucking stupid? Do you not remember the past eight months of our lives where you seemed perfectly content to not be in a relationship? Remember how many times the two of us were hounded by our friends about dating? You fucking hypocrite.

    But you didn’t say any of that. There was an unspoken rule that neither of you ever brought up your old arrangement. It was as if it had never existed.

    Most of the time, it seemed like Brian wished it hadn’t. Like it was some embarrassing secret.

    “Well, we don’t want that, so you can mind your own business,” you said. “And where does Freddie fit into your little equation, anyway?”

    Brian shrugged again. “He could bring a date along as well, I don’t know.”

    “We’re not going on a– a quadruple date. Jesus.”

    “Just an idea,” Brian muttered.

    “You can still hang out with friends without your girlfriend, you know.”

    Brian sighed. “Okay. Well.”

    You sighed as well, gathering yourself. You tried again. “What about a party, or something? We haven’t been to a party in forever.”

    Brian hesitated. “Well, one of Dani’s friends is having a party this weekend.”

    Not exactly what you’d meant. “Maybe a little group of us could go?” you suggested. “If Dani’s all right with it? That could be fun.”

    Brian nodded to himself. “Yeah,” he said mildly. “Yeah, that could work. I’ll ask her.”

    “Great,” you said with a smile that you most certainly had to force onto your face. You began making a quick retreat, not waiting for him to formulate an excuse. “Text me, okay?”

    “Yep,” he said, and you could tell he was already forgetting about it completely.

    But, to your surprise, that weekend, you got a text from him. Dani said it’s all right if you and the others want to come along.

    Your lip curled. It hardly sounded like Brian wanted any of you there. great, you replied. pres at yours?

    I’ll actually be having pres at Lachlan’s, Brian sent. He’s one of Dani’s friends. But I’ll send you the details of the party and I’ll see you there.

    But no one else wanted to come.

    “No thanks,” Roger grumbled. “I’ve met some of Dani’s friends. They’re all complete wankers.”

    “But I don’t want to go alone,” you whined.

    “Ask Freddie. He’s always down for a good time.”

-

    I can’t darling, Freddie texted. work early the next day. they said if I turn up hung-over or still drunk one more time they’ll fire me

u don’t have to get that drunk, you replied hopefully. just drink a bit and then go home early

    then what would be the point of going lol?? Freddie sent.

-

    “Sorry,” Veronica said. “Studying.”

    You sulked. “You can’t afford to take a break just for a couple hours?”

    “No. And, honestly, I don’t want to enable whatever thing you’re going through right now. I think getting drunk around Brian would be a bad idea.”

    “I’ll be fine,” you said. “I just want an excuse to hang out as friends, okay? That’s all. It’s not enabling, it’s supporting.”

    Veronica made a sound that told you she disagreed. You huffed and gave up. What did she know, anyway?

-

    “Hey, Dea–”

    “I’m not going to that party tonight,” John cut in smoothly, not even looking up from his textbook.

    “But–”

    “I’d rather sever my own foot.” He glanced up at you, giving you an apologetic half-smile. “Sorry. I just can’t stand being around Brian and Dani. They’re insufferable.”

    At least that you could agree with.

-

    everyone else is busy, you texted Brian. You bit your lip, debating whether to ask, but, damn it, fuck it all – can I come to lachlan’s pres and go with u guys?

    It took him two hours to reply. Yeah, sure.

    You felt sick. This was a bad idea.

    It was by far too much trouble for what it was worth to get to Lachlan’s. You were terrified of turning up before Brian and Dani, so you arrived two and a half hours after when you were meant to be there.

    That was better. It was easier to rock up when everyone was already pissed.

    And they were very much pissed. Lachlan answered the door. He was tall and stocky, with brown hair and blue eyes. The sort of guy who looked like he’d played some kind of contact sport in high school, probably football, but now didn’t have a regular training schedule, and so was slowly losing the muscle he’d once had, replacing it with beer and burgers. The sort of guy who’d lose all of his hair by the time he was thirty-five, and get married so he’d have someone to get his beers for him when he was watching the game with the boys. The sort of guy who wanted kids because he liked the thought of telling people he had a couple of boys, rather than actually wanting to be a father.

    Or maybe you were making a snap-judgement.

    You introduced yourself, and he gave you a lopsided, skeezy grin, letting you into his place. “You here all on your own?” he asked.

    Your shoulders tensed. “No,” you said. “I’m a friend of Brian’s. Dani’s new boyfriend.”

    “Oh, yeah, sure, I know that. But you don’t have anyone to bring along with you?”

    “Not tonight,” you said vaguely. “Busy schedules. Finals aren’t too far away, and all that.”

    “Yeah, sick,” Lachlan said, looking you up and down. “Well.” He gestured with his beer to the crowd. “Make yourself at home.” He shot you another grin that made your hands grow clammy. “I’m glad Dani brought you along. Can’t wait to get to know you.”

    You gave him an uneasy smile in return, and frantically looked for Brian and Dani. You found them – Dani was sitting on Brian’s lap, yuck – and fled from Lachlan.

    “Hi,” you said.

    “Oh, hey,” Brian said, and you could tell right off the bat he’d had a bit to drink already. His hand was splayed over Dani’s thigh, holding her to him, and you couldn’t bear to look at it. “Thought you weren’t gonna come.”

    “I’m just late,” you said. “Hello, Dani.”

    She gave you a polite smile, but didn’t try to engage in conversation.

    Brian didn’t even notice. He squeezed Dani a little bit closer. “Well, you gonna drink?” he said.

    Yes. Yes, you were. You held up your plastic bottle filled with Sprite and too much vodka. “Yep.”

    Brian gave you a thumbs-up.

    Dani turned to him. “Just need to go to the bathroom, baby,” she murmured, tapping his hand.

    “All right, baby,” Brian murmured back, and you only just stopped yourself from making a face. The word baby sounded clunky, uncomfortable coming from Brian. “Be careful.”

    Dani leant in for a kiss, and you turned away, uncapping your bottle and taking a decent swig, grimacing at the burn. 

    Brian didn’t like pet names. You knew he didn’t like pet names. And yet this ‘baby’ thing had sprung out of nowhere, and it drove you up the fucking wall.

    You listened until the sound of Dani’s heels against the floorboards faded before you spoke. “‘Be careful’,” you muttered.

    “What?” Brian said.

    “She’s just walking to the toilet,” you said. “Not like she’s gonna get assaulted on the way.”

    Brian looked mildly annoyed. “I just don’t want her to trip and fall over and hurt herself. She’s a lightweight, and she’s wearing heels. I’m just… trying to be a good boyfriend.”

    You sighed. “Yeah, okay,” you said, not wanting to hear a word of it. You took another hefty swig of your drink. “I think I’ll, um, join the rest of the party.”

    So much for hanging out with Brian. You wanted to be near him, wanted to talk to him, but you couldn’t bear it for more than five minutes.

    You knew what it was – you wanted to talk to him how you used to. But you couldn’t do that anymore. Instead you had some weird, watered-down version of the Brian you knew.

    You joined in half-heartedly with a few drinking games, but quickly discovered that you weren’t really in the mood for getting smashed anyway.

    Brian and Dani stayed in their own little corner, giggling and whispering with each other, kissing and cuddling and being generally disgusting.

-

    You didn’t even think they’d bother coming to the actual party. But they did, and the group of fifteen or so people in Lachlan’s sharehouse all staggered along the street for about ten minutes to get to the main event.

    You’d managed to get along well enough with some of the girls, and Lachlan wouldn’t leave you alone, so you had no choice but to socialise. Which was good, in a way, because you lost Dani and Brian as soon as you walked into the party.

    Not that you particularly liked the girls you were talking to. Everyone just had such a weird vibe, like they weren’t sure if they could be bothered to talk to you, but also felt obliged to make you feel welcome. They kept bursting into laughter and you had no idea why, and no one bothered to explain the jokes. But then they complimented your outfit and asked you how your day had been, and they listened with encouraging nods and wide eyes of interest when you answered. Until someone said something that they found more interesting, and then they turned away from you when you were halfway through a sentence. It was off-putting, to say the least; you couldn’t seem to find your footing.

    Lachlan, however, was the icing on the cake. The sour, out-of-date icing on the stale cake. He flirted with you incessantly, either not picking up your clear signals that you weren’t interested, or just ignoring them. The others weren’t helping, either, egging the two of you on. A whole lot of wink-wink-nudge-nudge that you were not enjoying at all.

    You should’ve just gone home. You didn’t know why you didn’t just leave.

    But, for some reason, you stayed. Maybe you hoped that Brian would see your discomfort and come and talk to you – not that you’d seen him for the past hour – or that this strange group of people would want to talk with their friend Dani, and you’d be able to swoop in and catch up with Brian without Dani hanging around awkwardly.

    Whatever it was, it was a stupid reason.

    And then came truth or dare.

    You didn’t want to play, but you were roped into it regardless. There was a rule, you found out, that you were allowed to back out of one truth or dare, and you had to drink if you did so – but only the once, so you had to choose wisely. Someone dared you to show everyone what underwear you were wearing.

    Needless to say, you drank instead.

    You could tell that no one was very impressed with any of the dares or questions you came up with, even though your friendship group loved your questions and dares. This group seemed to like the brainless shit – if it was gross, or sexual, or nasty in any way, they were all over it. Barely anyone chose ‘truth’.

    Then it was Lachlan’s turn, and he turned to you. He grinned, and your stomach sank to the floor. “Dare you to kiss me,” he drawled, and the crowd gasped and ooh’d dramatically.

    You didn’t even hesitate to snatch up your cider, but Lachlan quickly said, “You’ve already drunk, you can’t do it twice.”

    “Well, I’m doing it twice,” you snapped, and took a swig.

    You received jeers and boos for that, and Gina, the girl beside you, took your beer from your hand and said, “You can’t do that!”

    “You gotta kiss me, that’s the rules,” Lachlan said above the sounds of everyone else.

    “I don’t want to,” you said, your voice wavering.

    “You have to,” said Savannah. “You have to, you have to, it’s the rules.”

    “Come on,” said – whatever her fucking name was. “Stop being such a pussy, just get it over with.”

    Lachlan was starting to look a bit pissed off by now. “Fucking hell, just come and kiss me,” he said. “Don’t be a bitch about it.”

    Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel your hands starting to shake. “Jesus – no, all right? I don’t want to,” you snapped.

    The room felt too loud, too stuffy, too overwhelming.

    “Lachlan, just think of something else,” you said.

     “Okay, fine, whatever,” Gina complained. “Just do something else.”

     “No, I gave you a dare already,” Lachlan said sourly. “It’s not even that big of a deal, like, I don’t even know what the problem is.”

     “If she doesn’t want to-”

     “That’s the fucking rules,” Lachlan said, throwing his hands in the air like you were the one being unreasonable. “Is that not the fucking rules? Goddamn.”

     “Okay, then just kiss him already,” said whatever-the-fuck-her-name-was, waving you over. “Whatever, just hurry up.”

     “I’m fucking bored with this shit already,” Savannah said. “Just kiss him or don’t kiss him, whatever. God, this party sucks.”

     “It doesn’t suck, she’s just being a bitch,” Lachlan protested.

     “Don’t call me a bitch,” you said.

     “I’m just teasing,” Lachlan said, crawling over to you. You shrunk away from him, your heart beating like a cantering horse, and he grabbed your wrist. “One kiss, c’mon,” he said, his voice light and friendly, like you were happy to play along.

    But you weren’t happy to play along. You didn’t know if everyone was too drunk to notice your obvious discomfort, or they didn’t care, but this was crossing the goddamn line.

    “Fuck off, Lachlan,” you said, trying to pull your wrist back. You’d wanted your voice to be tough, to be assertive, but it was small and weak, and then Lachlan leant in for a kiss.

    You turned your face away. “Lachlan–”

    “Just fucking kiss me, for God’s sake, woman,” Lachlan growled, and grabbed your face with his other hand.

    You pushed his hand away, and, without thinking, blurted out the one word that your panicked brain told you would stop everything in its tracks: “Nickleback.”

    “What?” Lachlan said, and, good fucking God, of course that wouldn’t work, you were such a fucking idiot, and now you had no back-up plan, nothing else to do, and that word was supposed to stop things, why wasn’t it stopping things–

    But then Lachlan was gone, and you felt a hand grab your other wrist and yank you up from the floor, and you unthinkingly leant into the body the hand belonged to as you were led from the room and into a bedroom, and the noise around you became muffled as the door closed behind you.

    Then Brian was setting you down on the bed and sitting beside you. In an ideal world, he would have wrapped his arms around you and you would’ve been able to breathe again, like in a movie, but instead there was an awkward amount of space between you as he gingerly asked, “Are you all right?”

    You barely even snuck a glance at him. You were humiliated by what had just happened, humiliated by needing him to rescue you, humiliated by your desperate craving for his touch, his comfort. You stared at the floor, curling in on yourself, and you nodded silently. Your hands still shook from adrenaline, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

    Brian sighed. “I’m sorry about them. I didn’t know…”

    You shook your head. “It’s fine,” you mumbled.

    Brian said nothing for a while, and then he reached over and patted you on the back. So achingly unfamiliar, and you felt your shoulders grow even more hunched than they already were. You didn’t think he’d ever touched you like that. Like you were a complete stranger.

    You ducked your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Don’t you dare fucking cry.

     There was a soft knock on the door, and Brian said, “Yeah?”

    You glanced up to see Dani poke her head in, and you quickly looked away again. “Hey, baby,” she said.

    Your stomach crawled.

    “Is everything okay?”

    “Yeah, it’s fine,” Brian said.

    “All right,” Dani said. You could feel her hovering awkwardly.

    Brian said your name, catching your attention, and then said, “I’ll just… let you have some time to yourself, all right?”

    You said nothing. You did nothing. And Brian stood up and left the room, closing the door behind him.

    “What happened?” came Dani’s voice from just outside the door.

    “Lachlan was harassing her,” Brian said.

    “They were just playing,” Dani said. “They’re all drunk, it’s just truth or dare.”

    “No, I know, but…”

    “You didn’t have to run in there like there was a fire and pull her out of there like that. Everyone’s going to ask me what that was all about. Where did that come from?”

    Your ears were straining to hear Brian’s response.

    “I… I just knew she needed to get out,” he said eventually.

    “She could have left if she was uncomfortable.”

    “She gets really anxious sometimes, she just freezes.”

    You realised, then, that he must’ve heard you say ‘Nickleback’. He must have heard it and immediately known that something was wrong.

    You groaned quietly to yourself, covering your face with your hands. Your ex-friend-with-benefits had heard you yell out your old safeword in the middle of a party, and had felt obliged to rush in like a knight in shining armour to swoop you to safety. Jesus Christ.

    “She’s an adult, baby,” Dani said. “I’m sure she was fine.” You heard someone sigh. “It’s sweet that you guys are friends, but you don’t have to…”

    “What?”

    “Look out for her that much.”

    “What do you mean? She’s my friend.”

    Dani was silent for a while. “Did you guys used to…?”

    The air was sucked from the room. Your ears strained to hear every word.

    “What?” Brian said, clearly thrown.

    “Did you used to date? It just seems like…”

    “No,” Brian said quickly. “No, we never dated.”

    “You’re not lying to me?”

    “No, baby. I promise you, we never dated.”

    You grimaced.

    Someone sighed again. “Okay,” Dani said. “Good. The last thing I’d want is for you to be friends with an ex.”

    Brian chuckled. It sounded forced. “Yeah, of course.”

    “I’m glad we agree. Gimme a kissy?”

    You could’ve thrown up right then and there. A kissy?

    You could hear them murmuring to each other, and Dani’s voice had a particular whiny, baby-talk tone to it that made you want to ‘accidentally’ open the door into the both of them. But then they left, and you were even more alone than before, and you lay down on the bed and curled into a ball, feeling sorry for yourself.

    It was time to go home.

-

    By the grace of God himself, Brian offered to wait outside with you, sitting beside you on the kerb, while you called a ride home. Dani stayed inside with her friends.

    “I’m sorry about… what happened,” Brian said, and you went still as a statue.

    “What do you mean?” you said softly.

    “Lachlan, and all of that.”

    You let out a breath. “Oh,” you said. “Yeah, that. It’s fine.”

    Silence. It wriggled under your skin like cockroaches.

    You wanted to touch Brian. You wanted him to touch you. You wanted Roger there, too. You wanted them to want you, like they used to. You wanted to be allowed to want them like they used to love.

    But Roger wasn’t there. And Brian barely was, either.

    “Brian?” Dani called from the front door.

    Brian twisted around. “Yeah, I’m here.”

    “Oh, okay. Just checking everything’s good.”

    “Yeah, we’re fine. Still waiting for the car.”

    “Okay. See you inside.”

    “Yep.”

    “Miss you, baby.”

    Brian chuckled. “Miss you too.”

    You waited until Brian had turned back around to face the road, and then blurted out, “Why do you let her call you that? You hate pet names.”

    Brian frowned, looking to you. “What?”

    “Pet names. You hate them.”

    “I don’t hate them,” he said.

    “You don’t like them, at least.”

    “According to who?”

    “According to you,” you said. “You told me. And you never–” You never called me anything but my name when we were fucking. “You never said you liked them.”

    “Well, I do,” Brian said. “And why do you care, anyway?”

    “I just think it’s weird,” you said, and you were aiming for casual but you knew you sounded brash. “You don’t sound like yourself.”

    “I’ve never had a girlfriend the whole time we’ve known each other,” Brian said. “You don’t know what I’m like when I’m in a relationship.”

    “You shouldn’t change who you are when you’re in a relationship,” you said. “That doesn’t make sense.”

    “I’m not changing who I am,” Brian said, his face pinched. “What has gotten into you?”

    “Nothing,” you said harshly. “I just think you’re lying to yourself. You don’t like calling her baby, and you don’t like being called baby, and I just think it’s weird that you wouldn’t just say that.”

    “Well, I just think it’s weird you think you have the right to comment on my relationship,” Brian said. “I like calling her baby. And I like it when she calls me baby.”

    “But you don’t,” you insisted. “I can hear it in your voice.”

    “What?” Brian exclaimed. “What the fuck are you on about?”

    “I know you, okay?” you snapped. “I know you far better than she does. And I know you don’t like pet names, but you won’t tell her for some reason.”

    “I won’t tell her because I like them,” Brian said. “And she knows me, too, you know.”

    “She’s known you for, like, two months! Less than!” you said. “That’s nothing.”

    “Why…” Brian floundered. “There isn’t some – time limit on these things. You can’t judge if someone knows someone better just by how long…”

    “I just don’t get it,” you said. “Maybe that’s my fault, but I don’t get how someone can just walk into your life and suddenly they’re the most important person you’ve ever met when you’ve only known them for five minutes.”

    “You’ve clearly never fallen in love,” Brian said snootily.

    “Oh, fuck off,” you scoffed. “You’re not in love with her.”

    “How would you know?”

    “You’ve only been dating a couple weeks! Come on, Brian. You can call each other baby all you like, but I know you.”

    “I like pet names,” Brian said, his voice hard. “I just never called you one because, in case you’ve forgotten, you were never my fucking girlfriend. So, for the love of God, can you stop acting like a jealous ex.”

    It was like a stab to the gut and a twist of the knife all at the same time. All you could do was sit in stunned silence.

    Brian looked at you, almost like he was waiting for a response, and when he never received one, he sighed, stood, and left.

    Your chin wobbled, your vision blurred, and you scrabbled for your phone in your handbag.

-

    Roger opened the door. “Hey–”

    You leapt onto him, kissing him furiously. He stumbled, but kept his balance, one arm curling around your waist and the other groping for the door, pushing it closed. You spun him around and backed him up, pressing him against the door, and ducked your head to suck at his neck, palming at him through his sweatpants.

    Roger jumped. “Oh, God, okay,” he said with a surprised laugh. “You’re really…”

    You nodded, and captured his lips again, nipping at his bottom lip. “I want you so bad,” you breathed. “I want you to fuck me hard, Daddy, please.”

    You didn’t wait for him to reply, and kissed him. You slipped your hands into his underwear, and he tensed underneath you, surprised again.

    You needed him to fuck you, to bruise you, to bite you. To make you feel wanted, needed. To mark you up, to make you scream, to make it hurt. You needed it so badly that your hands shook.

    Roger put a hand to your collarbones, and you thought he was going to choke you, but instead he pushed you back, just enough to stare into your face.

    “Are you sure you want to call me Daddy?” he asked unsurely. “You seem a little…”

    “What?” you said.

    “Not yourself,” Roger said. “Are you– Have you been drinking?”

    “The fuck does that mean?” you said. “I just really need you to fuck me hard, does that not sound like me?”

    “I don’t–”

    “Roger,” you cut in sharply, and then quickly softened your tone into something whinier, needier, more enticing. “Daddy. I want you. Please.”

    Roger’s frown never disappeared. “I don’t want you to call me Daddy,” he said.

    You blinked, taken aback. “Um, okay,” you said. You could still work with that. “No Daddy.” You went to kiss him again, but he held you away.

    You resisted huffing in frustration. “Roger…”

    “This is about Brian, isn’t it?” he said.

    “What?” you said. “No. Why would it be about Brian? I want you.”

    “You’re drunk and upset and jealous, and you want me to fuck you how he used to fuck you, because you miss it.”

    A slap to the face would’ve hurt less. Your hands fell limp at your sides. “What?”

    “Is that not what’s happening right now?” Roger said, his hands dropping as well. “Is that not why you’re over? You went to that party, got yourself all worked up and upset, and now you want to be fucked how Brian used to fuck you?”

    You blinked. “N– No,” you said, and you meant it, but the more Roger said it, the more you thought that maybe he was right, and you hadn’t even realised.

    “Because it’s what it feels like,” Roger said. “It feels like I’m just an outlet for you. It’s not even about you and me anymore, it’s about you and him.”

    Oh my God. You hated to admit it, but he was right. You covered your mouth with your hands, horrified at yourself. “Fuck, Roger, I…”

    “I’m ending the arrangement between us,” he said simply. “It’s not fun anymore, and it’s definitely not healthy. You need time to… I don’t even know. But you need time, and I don’t really feel like being collateral damage. Especially not with end-of-year exams literally just around the corner.”

    No. No, no, no, fuck, not this, anything but this.

    “No, Rog, please, I’m sorry,” you said. “I wasn’t thinking, I– I can’t–” You felt tears welling up in your eyes. “Please. I…”

    Roger sighed, and pulled you into a hug. You clutched onto him, and, finally, cried. “Jesus Christ,” he murmured sympathetically, stroking your hair. “This whole thing has really messed you up, hasn’t it?”

    “I c– can’t lose you t– too,” you sobbed into his shirt.

    “You’re not losing me. We’re still friends. It just… won’t be with the benefits anymore. For now, at least. Maybe forever, I don’t know. See how things go. But I’m never going to stop being friends with you.”

    Your body shook as you cried, and Roger rubbed your back, letting you ruin his shirt.

-

    The Bee Movie played on the TV, but your heart wasn’t in it. You leant against Roger, a cup of tea in your hands, and one in his. You were exhausted from crying, and you almost found yourself nodding off. Normally there was nothing more fun than enjoying the trials and tribulations of Barry B. Benson with Roger, but now not even casual bestiality was enough to cheer you up.

    Roger didn’t say much, either. You had no idea what he was thinking, although you were pretty sure he wasn’t really watching the movie, just staring at the screen.

    “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice breaking a little.

    Roger sighed. “It’s okay,” he said, giving you a soft, sad smile. “I know you’re going through a tough time right now.”

    “I don’t even understand why,” you said, your bottom lip trembling. Not again. “I never liked him like that, not ever. I know I never liked him like that. I didn’t want to go out on dates with him, or be his girlfriend, or any of that. So I don’t get why it – hurts so much.”

    “Your thing went on for a really long time,” Roger reasoned. “And now it’s gone. I can’t blame you. I…” He bit his lip. “I… kinda miss it too, to be honest.”

    You frowned at him in confusion. “You miss… Brian?”

    “I miss…” Roger took a sip of his tea. “I miss the dynamic, I suppose. We actually got a lot closer because of it. And it was fun, you know? Especially the threesomes, those were really fun.”

    You managed a tired laugh.

    “It was just nice to have… a thing, that was ours,” Roger said. “Us three, I don’t know. This thing that was ours. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

    “No, it does,” you said. You paused, and then said, “You and Brian aren’t as close now?”

    Roger shrugged a shoulder. “Not… really?” he said unsurely. “We haven’t really hung out a lot recently. I mean, we’ve been studying a lot, so I haven’t really seen much of anyone as of late, but, like, for a while, me and Brian hung out a whole lot, just the two of us. Guess you end up feeling closer when you have to talk about your feelings all the time. And when you see each other naked every so often.” He shot you a smile, and you smiled back. “But now it’s sort of in a weird place. I mean, none of us have seen him a lot, he’s just with Dani all day and night. Which makes sense, they’re in their honeymoon phase. But I do miss… that.”

    You nodded in understanding. “It doesn’t even feel like he wants to be around me,” you said in a small voice. “Like I’m not even friends with him anymore.”

    “You are,” Roger assured you. “You just… both have to learn how to be… normal friends again.”

    “And us too,” you added.

    Roger blinked, but nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, us, too.”

    You didn’t want to say it, you knew you shouldn’t say it, but the alcohol had loosened your tongue: “You gonna miss me?”

    Roger’s eyes widened for a moment, and then he took a big breath in and out, shaking his head. “Damn,” he muttered.

    “Sorry, ignore me,” you mumbled. “I’m just being sad and pathetic.”

    “You’re not sad and pathetic,” Roger said. “But I’m not gonna miss you, you’ll still be around.”

    “You know what I mean,” you said.

    “Yeah, I know,” Roger said. He sighed again. “I don’t think… it would be good for either of us if I answered that.”

    You said nothing. It felt like Roger wanted to say more, but he didn’t.

    “But…” You looked to him, and he looked to you. “Can we still be friends like before?” you asked him. “I mean, just – with Brian, he won’t even hug me hello or goodbye, he barely looks at me, he doesn’t want to be near me, I just–” You shook your head. “I couldn’t stand it if you did that, too. Can we at least just be friends?”

    Roger nodded. “Of course,” he said.

    “Yes?”

    “Yes, of course,” he said again. “I promise you, okay? I like hugs just as much as you do.”

    You nodded, reassured. “Thank you.”

    Roger threw his arm around you and gave you a squeeze, then took his arm back.

    A month and a bit ago, he would’ve left his arm there, around your shoulders. You would’ve pressed closer into him. Probably eventually would’ve lifted your head to kiss his neck, or maybe your hands – or his hands – would’ve gone wandering.

    But a squeeze was something, at least, and you were grateful for it. You told yourself you were grateful for it.

-

Three-ish months later

    The air was just starting to cool, and, for the first time in a while, you pulled on a jacket.

    It had been a while since you’d seen your flat. You’d gone home for the summer – not for the whole time, you still had rent to pay and you didn’t want to waste it, but for a few weeks – which had been a welcomed change of scenery.

    After how your previous semester of uni had ended, the last thing you’d wanted was to hang around the flat.

    It had been an uncomfortable summer. The mid-year break, last year, you hadn’t gone home. You’d told your parents it was because of the rent thing, but in reality, it had mostly been about Roger and Brian. A month off uni, and your flatmate Lucy had gone home for the break, meaning you had a free house? That had been a wild couple of weeks.

    You shook your head. Stop, you reprimanded yourself. It did you no good to reminisce. You’d had an entire summer to sort things out for yourself, to reset, and it was a bad idea to let yourself slip. You’d barely spoken to Roger or Brian all summer, just to give yourself some space.

    You’d missed them. A lot. Maybe cried once or twice. Maybe more. But that was only for you to know.

    You doubted that they’d missed you.

    The thought still felt like a stab to the gut, and you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head at yourself. Stop it. Stop.

    There was a knock on the front door, and you were momentarily surprised – but you knew it was Veronica. You took a moment to get your thoughts together, then hurried to the door to let her in.

    She greeted you with a joyous cry of your name and a warm hug. “It’s been so long!”

    The two of you rocked from foot to foot, and you breathed in her familiar smell. You hadn’t seen her since before Christmas.

    When the hug eventually ended, Veronica sighed happily. “Can’t believe I’ve missed you,” she said, and you laughed, giving her a backhand slap on the arm.

    “Cow,” you said.

    “So you’ve kept the same place?”

    “Yep,” you said.

    “Lucy still your flatmate?”

    “Yeah. It works well, so.”

    “No, no, she’s lovely,” Veronica said with a nod. “Did she want to come to drinks tonight?”

    You glanced towards Lucy’s room instinctively, even though you knew she wasn’t in there. “She’s not coming back until Wednesday, I think.”

    “Ah, well, answers that question.” Veronica gave you a smile. You could tell there was a question on the tip of her tongue, and you just stood there, waiting for her to ask it.

    She sighed again, resigned. She knew she’d been sprung. “I wasn’t going to ask. I– I wasn’t sure if I should.”

    “I’m okay,” you said. “I’m fine.”

    Veronica squinted at you unsurely, like she wanted to press you for further information, but wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. “Fine?”

    “It’s been a bit rough, but I’m okay,” you said.

    You’d tell her the truth soon enough. You had no willpower when it came to Veronica. But you weren’t in the mood for a whole conversation right now.

    “So you’re all right for tonight?”

    You rolled your eyes. “Am I capable of getting drinks with my friends? Yes, I think so.”

    “Even though Dani will be there?”

    “Brian and Dani have been dating for, like, five months now – and don’t say it like that. Brian isn’t my ex.”

    “Roger’s dating someone,” Veronica blurted.

    Your heart leapt into your throat. Stop. “Oh?” you said, and it sounded warped and wonky. “Since when? Good for him. Have you met her?”

    “Once,” Veronica said. “Just last week, when I dropped by the flat. Her name is–” She let out a laugh. “Actually, this is really funny. Her name is Freddy.”

    You laughed. “What?” you squawked. “Freddy?”

    “Freddy with a Y,” Veronica said. “Roger made that very clear when I met her. As if that changes anything.”

    “God, I bet that’s confusing in bed,” you said.

    “Yeah, well, I’m guessing the ‘with a Y’ part makes all the difference for Roger.”

    “Freddy,” you mused. “What’s it short for?”

    “No idea. But she’s not as hot as you are.”

    You shot Veronica a mock glare. “Roger isn’t my ex either.”

    “Still,” Veronica said lightly. She hesitated, and then said, “Have you spoken to either of them recently?”

    “No, not really,” you said, as casually as you could muster. “Look, Ron, could we just… table this conversation for later? I’m not really up to it.”

    “Yeah, of course,” Veronica said, waving a hand. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll keep my nose out of it. Let’s just go. Are you ready?”

    You took a steadying breath. “So ready,” you said, hoping you sounded more confident than you felt.

-

    Arriving at the local pub felt like coming home. The smell of beer, the roar of conversation, the bundles of people crowded around tables. The floor was sticky, there weren’t enough places to sit, and the prices up on the chalkboard on the wall were far too high.

    You scrunched your nose. Coming home sucked.

    “I forgot how much I hate this place,” you yelled into Veronica’s ear. “We need to find somewhere less popular, Jesus.”

    “I know,” Veronica said. “I’ve mentioned it to John; he thinks the same.”

    “Next time.”

    “Yeah, next time.”

    You said that every time.

    Veronica corroborated her instructional texts from John with the view in front of her in order to find everyone else. They were tucked away in a corner booth, crammed into the space.

    You’d had enough trouble as it was, trying to fit everyone into a booth. You couldn’t even imagine how you were going to make it work with two new people in the group.

    Veronica took your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze as you neared the table.

    There was John, at the end of the booth, facing you – his eyes lit up when he spotted Veronica, and began shifting over to make room for her beside him. At the end of the table, on a chair, was Freddie. He noticed John’s line of sight, and he turned to you, his smile wide.

    You couldn’t really see the others. Just the back of Brian’s head. But that was hard to miss.

    Freddie stood up to give you a warm hug as Veronica tossed around a few ‘hello’s and slid in next to John. “Darling!” Freddie said. “I haven’t seen you all break.”

    “I know, I’m sorry,” you said.

    Freddie waved you off. “It’s fine,” he said. “I understand.” He glanced towards the other occupants of the booth.

    “Don’t start,” you muttered, and Freddie gave your arm a swift pat.

    “Speaking of which,” he said, turning. “Roger, Brian, you remember our dear friend, I’m sure?”

    You resisted elbowing Freddie in the side, giving Brian and Roger tight smiles.

    At the same time, your eyes landed on Dani and her browny blonde Ariana Grande ponytail and her mouse face and her curvy body pressed into Brian’s side. And beside Roger, tucked under his arm, was a blonde, tanned girl. Blue eyes, like Roger, but hers were light, strikingly so, and a perfect full face of make-up. Her brows were dark and bold, and her lips looked pouty and soft.

    ‘Not as hot as you were’ your arse. This girl looked like she modelled in her spare time.

    Your jaw clenched. You resisted dragging Veronica away by her ear and having a word with her.

    Stop it. Stop it.

    “This is Freddy,” Freddie said.

    “With a Y,” Roger added quickly.

    “Yes, with a Y,” Freddie said dryly. “Roger’s new flame.”

    “Hi,” Freddy said with a smile. Her teeth were very white. She lifted a well-manicured hand to fiddle with the silver chain around her neck.

    You could see the discolouration on her knuckles. Well, at least you knew her tan wasn’t real. That was something. Wasn’t it?

    No. It wasn’t. She looked incredible anyway. Didn’t even matter that she was wearing fake tan. What a stupid thing to think.

    You introduced yourself.

    There was a pause where no one really knew what to say next.

    “Hi, by the way,” John said.

    Relieved, you gave him a smile. “Hi, John, how are you?”

    “Not too bad. Do you want to find a chair?”

    God bless John Deacon. “Let me help you,” Freddie said, and you both began wandering through the crowd together, knowing there was no way in hell you’d be able to find a chair.

    “How are you?” Freddie asked. “Actually, sod the fucking chair, let’s get a drink.”

    “Sounds superb,” you said.

    “Try again,” Freddie said when you’d gotten in line. “How are you?”

    “Fine,” you said. “And you?”

    “Good, fine,” Freddie said. “Lonely. I want a boyfriend. Everyone else is in a godforsaken relationship, so I only think it’s reasonable. Look at me, the token lonely, single homosexual in a group of straight people. Right out of an early 2000s chick flick. I may as well start wearing skinny scarves and a vest and talk about how much I love shopping. Do you think I’m sassy enough?”

    “Stop it,” you said. “If you start wearing skinny scarves, I’ll strangle you with one.”

    “If I start wearing skinny scarves, I’d practically be begging you to,” Freddie muttered.

    “I’m sorry you’re lonely,” you said. “I could be your wingwoman, if you like. We could go out together.”

    Freddie gave you a smile. “Yeah, I’d like that,” he said. His eyes scanned the chalkboard, as did yours, but it was more habit than anything else. “What did you get up to during the break?”

    “Slept,” you said, and Freddie chuckled, nodding in agreement.

    “Ate too much,” he added.

    “Yep, that too,” you said with a laugh. “Never left the house.”

    “Except to buy more booze.”

    “Or take the bins out.”

    Freddie laughed. “Isn’t summer wonderful.”

    “Oh, it’s just perfect,” you said, and it came out so bitter, with such a sneer in your tone, that Freddie cracked up. A few heads turned, but they usually did, with Freddie.

    “Did you stay here or go home?” you asked.

    “Both,” Freddie said. “Mostly here, though. Just wanted to see the family for a while, but I’m far more comfortable here.”

    You nodded.

    “Did you talk to Brian and Roger much?” Freddie said.

    You shook your head. “No.”

    That was all.

    “Well, shit,” Freddie said. “That’s all just completely fucked, then?”

    “It’s fine,” you said. You reached the front of the line, and went to order. Freddie followed you.

    You ordered a cider, then Freddie ordered a pint. “What do you think of Freddy with a Y?” Freddie asked as the bartender poured your drinks.

    “I’ve barely met her,” you said. “Didn’t know she existed until Ron told me just before we left mine.”

    “Jesus,” Freddie said. “You really haven’t spoken to them.”

    “No,” you said. “And Roger doesn’t post much on social media, either, so. And Brian posts far too much, so I know way too much about him and Dani for my liking, which is wonderful.”

    “I’m sorry,” Freddie said. “God, I’m sorry it’s all gone to shit, I really am. That’s miserable, darling.”

    “It’s fine,” you said. The bartender set your drinks in front of you, and you and Freddie collected them, weaving your way back to the table.

    “Did you… get around to dating much?” Freddie asked.

    “Wasn’t in the mood,” you said.

    Freddie said nothing. Message received.

    You arrived back at the booth. While you’d gotten a drink, you hadn’t solved the seating problem.

    You bunched up next to Veronica. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t unbearable.

    You met Brian’s eyes across the table. He gave you a warm smile. It hurt. You hated that it hurt. “I haven’t said hi yet,” he said, like you hadn’t just gone three months without seeing or speaking to each other. “How you going?”

    “Good, good,” you said, and took a swig of cider. “You?”

    “Yeah, great. Get up to much?”

    “Not really. Did you?”

    “Not too much,” Brian said. “Dani and I took a little trip south. That was nice, wasn’t it, baby?”

    “So nice,” Dani said with a cheeky, knowing little grin at Brian.

    He shook his head at her, and she giggled, then reached up for a quick kiss.

     You knew about the little trip south. Everybody knew about the little trip south. Brian had waxed poetry about it on Instagram for every single day they were away. “So lots of sex, then,” you said.

    Veronica choked on her water, and Roger burst out laughing.

    You hadn’t realised he’d been listening to the conversation.

    Dani’s face was turning tomato-red, and she hid her face behind her hand. Brian managed a good-natured chuckle, albeit a slightly forced one, and you could tell he was rubbing Dani’s knee under the table.

    “What, what was the joke?” Freddie said immediately.

    “Nothing,” you said, and turned to Roger. “So, Freddy, with a Y, how did you and Roger meet?”

    “Bumble,” Freddy said, unabashed. “About a month ago?”

    “Yeah, about that,” Roger said.

    “Yeah, Ron said,” you said. “That’s nice.”

    “So there’s…” Roger licked his bottom lip. “There’s no one you’ve got your eye on, then?”

    “No,” you said, uncomfortable. Why would anyone want you? You were messy, you were too much. You were demanding. You were easily replaced.

    You took a sip of cider. Stop.

    It had been three months, for God’s sake. Three months of no contact, and still you were left with an ugly, twisted feeling in the pit of your stomach after everything that had happened.

    None of it had even mattered. You’d always known it had had an expiration date. You were just…

    You hated feeling like this.

    “Hey,” Veronica said suddenly, raising her glass of water. “Let’s make a toast, shall we? To the new year. To– to passing our classes, and to ramen, and to… fresh starts.”

    Everyone raised their glasses, saying something along the lines of cheers, and began clinking their glasses together. You took a moment longer, but joined in.

    Veronica met your eyes to clink her glass to yours. “Fresh starts,” she said with a small smile.

    You couldn’t quite say it back, so you smiled and nodded, then took a sip of your cider.

    You could feel Brian’s and Roger’s eyes on you. You pretended to be interested in something happening across the room.

    God, you couldn’t wait for this chapter of your life to be nothing but a bad dream.

#try series #try verse #my writing #queen fanfiction #roger taylor x reader #brian may x reader #rpf #angst

[imanativeofswlondondahling]

Becoming A Stark? (2) Peter Parker x Stark! femReader

A/N: In celebration of finishing a class that has literally been six weeks of hell, I thought why not post chapter two. I had a blast writing this chapter because I love Natasha. Anyway, enjoy, and as always, let me know if you want to be tagged or your thoughts:)

Word count: 4596

Warnings: swearing, think that’s it

Chapter One (If You Missed It) || Master List 

You’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours. You had told Tony you were heading to bed at ten, mainly because you couldn’t stand him looking at you any more, especially since he looked at you like you were going to disappear most of the time. It was straight up creepy. Add to everything, you’re starving. A grumbly stomach and a mind that doesn’t want to shut off makes it impossible to go to sleep. You check Wallace and you’re sitting at 136, which isn’t surprising since you didn’t really eat anything but veggies at dinner since Tony didn’t realize that you were vegetarian so there wasn’t much besides veggies that you could eat of the food that Steve had made. You need real food though or you’re never going to sleep. In your mind you trace through how to get to the kitchen and you think you can get there without getting lost or waking up the other Avengers. 

Opening your door, you peak your head out just to see if you spy anyone down the hallway. Seeing the coast is clear, you step softly onto the floor outside your door, almost waiting for an alarm to go off yelling that you’re leaving your room. But after a few heartbeats thudding in your ears and nothing happening, you decide to make your way down the steps to the kitchen. “Jarvis?” You whisper.

“Yes, Miss Y/N?” The voice booms over the speakers that you haven’t seen.

“Shhhh. Take it down a few levels. And turn the lights on in the kitchen.”

“Certainly Miss Y/N.” The lights are blinding after being in your room in the dark for so long.

“Jarvis, dim the lights by uh 75%.”

“Certainly Miss Y/N.” The lights drop drastically and you feel more comfortable. Walking to the pantry, you look for something easy to make. There are ingredients for fancier dishes that you have no patience to make, so instead you reach for a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and then make your way to the fridge to look for jelly. Setting your ingredients on the counter, you grab a paper towel to make your sandwich on before setting on your way of making your sandwich. 

“Midnight snack? Or well two am snack?” A voice suddenly comes from the other side of the island and you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Your hand slams to your chest as you knife clatters to the counter. “Do you try to scare people to death?”

“To be fair you did move in with an ex-assassin.” Natasha says with a soft smile as she sits down on the bar stool across from where you stand. 

“It wasn’t by choice.”

“I had a feeling.” Natasha’s red hair is pulled into a low ponytail. Her eyes rome over you, seeing the bits of Tony that are in you even though you didn’t know you were related until this morning.

“Want a sandwich?” You offer, trying not to be rude. The other Avengers, you don’t have anything against personally. Just the one who stripped you from your house with his fatherly claim.

“If your sugars are low, I’m not taking your food away from you.” Natasha holds up her hands, trying to show she comes in peace.

“Is there anyone he didn’t tell I’m diabetic to?” You roll your eyes as you slide the sandwich in her direction, grabbing another paper towel to make another. “Wallace says I’m fine for now. I can make another.”

“Wallace?”

“My blood sugar monitor. It’s actually called a Dexcom, but I named it Wallace so that I can say things like Goddamn it Wallace when he wakes me up in the middle of the night. My pump is named Queenie. I think it’s more personal when they have names.”

“I like it.” Natasha lets a small smile escape her as she takes a bite of the sandwich you made. “And to answer your question, he told us all the emergency information about it that your grandmother shared with him. He just wanted all of us to be prepared in case we’re here and he’s not. But if you feel better we can not mention it.”

“It’s fine. It’s been a part of my life as long as I can remember.”

“He’ll probably try to invent something to make your life easier.”

“Seeing as his last thing to make my life easier stripped me of everything I’ve ever known, I’ll turn down that option.” You say with a sneer.

“He means well. Tony just doesn’t always think everything through before he acts.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.” You finish making your sandwich and after throwing the knife in the sink, you enter the carbs into Queenie.

“It doesn’t, but don’t hate him just yet ok?” 

“Fine.” Natasha leads you to the couch, where you and her sit, talking for what feels like hours about trivial things until you fall asleep. She wraps a blanket around you, then falls asleep next to you. 

Waking up in the morning feels different for Tony. For starters, it’s his first full day of being a dad, even if said kid hates him. True yesterday was probably his first full day, but today is the first full day of having you under his roof. Leaving his room, he makes his way towards the kitchen, thinking he’ll check in on you on his way to get coffee. However when he finds an open door and an empty bed, his heart starts racing. Not even 24 hours into this and he’s lost his kid. “JARVIS find Y/N.”

“Miss Y/N is in the living room.” Are you that early of a riser that you are up at 6:30 on a summer day? Like he himself is only up because he has an idea for your pump that he wants to work on. Bypassing the kitchen and coffee, he makes his way to the living room, needing to calm his heart down. What he finds is not what he’s expecting. The sight in front of him is you, wrapped in a white knitted blanket curled into the side of the deadliest assassin in the world. But you were asleep and safe, that’s what matters. He tries to steady his heart before turning back towards the kitchen, not wanting to wake you yet, since he wasn’t sure when you actually went to sleep. Looking in the sink as he passed to grab a coffee mug, he spies a knife with peanut butter and jelly smeared along the tip. He’s going to have to figure out what you eat since you don’t eat meat. Steve has been cooking for everyone a lot, but with you not eating animals and him cooking a lot of meat and potato meals, there needs to be a compromise. Tony will figure something out, it’s the fatherly thing to do.

Filling a coffee cup up with the liquid he was craving, he starts to type up some of the ideas he had on his Stark Phone so that he can get the ideas down without having to go all the way down to the lab. With you sleeping on the couch, this is the closest you’ve been to him without a grimace plastered on your face since he met you.

“Sir, you said to alert you if Miss Y/N went below 100.” JARVIS’s voice speaks out. 

“The actual fuck.” Your voice fills the kitchen as you pad into it from the living room. Tony spins around to look at his daughter, the knit blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“What?”

“You have your AI monitoring my blood sugar?” You spat out before Tony can respond.

“JARVIS monitors a lot of things for me.”

“That’s fucking creepy. And also you have it set way too high. There’s nothing to do if it’s at 100. That’s a good blood sugar. Have Dexcom send you alerts to your phone like a fucking normal person.” You turn and storm out of the kitchen. You had been used to constant monitoring when you were a kid. But you had been allowed to be the person watching your sugars for years. Having an AI watching your sugars was too much.

You throw your book, your headphones and your wallet into your backpack before pulling on a pair of ripped jean shorts and a black graphic t-shirt that says ‘Sorry I’m Late I Didn’t Want To Come’. Slipping on a pair of galaxy high top converse that you love and sliding a pair of black and gold could have been Ray Bans if you had the money into your hair, you figure that if you slip out the back end of the hallway, Tony won’t see you leave. Checking Queenie before you walk out the door, you have plenty of insulin so you’ll spend the day out of the eye of your overbearing father and in the city you love. Peaking your head out you see no one out in the hall, not even Natasha. So you slink down the hallway towards the elevator and get on it without anyone noticing. “Jarvis, take me to the ground floor.” You wait for him to say no, but are surprised.

“Certainly Miss Y/N.” Once on the ground floor you pull the sunglasses down, already seeing that there are a few vultures waiting with cameras outside. But when they see it’s just a kid and not one of the Avengers, they let you walk on by without snapping anything. Taking your phone out of your pocket you type a quick message in your group chat to your two best friends, letting them know you’re taking a day off of social media and texting before flipping your phone to airplane mode. No creepy AIs for you today. 

Taking your metro card and headphones out of your backpack, you make your way towards the closest station. If you hop the four or the five train you could head to your favorite coffee shop and even hit up The Strand before making a next move. Swiping your card, you hear the sounds of a train pulling into the station.

Tony throws the screw drive across the bench in frustration. Maybe Y/N was right. Maybe having JARVIS monitoring your sugars was too much, but he doesn’t know how to be any other way. Especially when his child that he’s only known about for two days has a life or death condition. “JARVIS what’s Y/N’s blood sugar?” 

“I don’t know sir. I can’t read it.”

“What?” His project is forgotten, his child the only though in his mind.

“Her phone isn’t connected to the internet.” And your monitor has to link through the internet to connect to JARVIS.

“Is there something wrong with the internet?”

“No. Internet is functioning at 100%.”

“So why is her phone not connected to it?”

“I can not say sir.” Tony pushes away from the bench and makes his way up the stairs to see why your phone isn’t connected to the internet. He looks in the kitchen for you before looking in the living room. He finds only Clint on the couch.

“Have you seen Y/N?”

“Not today. Maybe she’s in her room?” Tony turns and moves quickly through the kitchen and up the stairs, finding your door open. He moves down the hallway to Natasha’s room, hoping she might know where you are. He pounds on the door. 

“What?” The response is short as the door is pried open.

“Y/N, have you seen her?”

“Not since this morning. Why?” Ignoring her, Tony calls out for JARVIS. 

“JARVIS, where is Y/N?”

“Miss Y/N left the tower at 9:46 this morning.”

“Why was I not told?”

“You didn’t ask to be told.”

“Tony, do you think she went home?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. I can’t get a reading on her blood sugars though.” Tony is pacing in the hallway. “What if she’s hurt?” 

“JARVIS can you override her phone?” Natasha asks, not counting on it.

“No I can not. It is not a Stark Phone.”

“That changes immediately.” Tony mutters, but Natasha ignores him. Instead she pulls out her laptop.

“JARVIS can you pull up the security camera footage from the front door from when Y/N left?”

“Of course. I’ll send it to your computer.” The images of Y/N sauntering past the paparazzi, smirking as she pulls her sunglasses on makes Natasha let go of a breathy laugh. She watches as you walk towards the downtown subway station.

“She’s not heading home?” Tony says looking at the screen.

“She’s not?” Natasha asks.

“Her grandparents live in Queens. She wouldn’t take a downtown train to go home.” Natasha hits some keys and runs your face through some camera recognition until she finds where you get off, but shuts the laptop before Tony can see where you got off. “Natasha-”

“If I let you see where she went, you two will get in a screaming match in the middle of the street. Is that really how you want the world to find out that Tony Stark has a child?”

“At least get her to turn her phone on so I can see she’s not dying?”

“I’ll try.”

When you read, you fall so deeply into a book that you don’t have to even think about it. Hours pass, coffee is drunk, and the day rolls away from you. The argument, if you could even call it, with Tony seems days ago now. You’ve always loved the atmosphere of The Bean and would stay there for days if they didn’t have to lock up at times. Turning the page, you push Tony from your head, and just focus on your music. You could live in this moment forever, but out of the corner of your eye you notice a redhead sitting down at your table. Glancing up, you shouldn’t be totally surprised that Natasha found you. “I know you’re an assassin, but like stalking is a crime,” You say as you pull the earbuds from your ears.

“Tracking a runaway here, not stalking.” Natasha says softly as she places fresh coffee in front of the two of you. 

“I didn’t run away. I just needed to get out of that tower. It was suffocating me.” You say as you pick up the cup sitting in front of you.

“You turned your phone off.”

“I didn’t turn it off. I put it on airplane mode.” You can’t help but smile.

“Tony thinks you’re lying passed out on the side of the road because he can’t read your blood sugars.”

“Well let him live like that for a bit. He deserves it after programming his AI to shout my BGs all over the tower.”

“You know Tony doesn’t check his phone right? JARVIS is his phone essentially. So telling him to just send notifications to his phone wouldn’t do much different than having JARVIS tell him stuff.” Natasha reaches a hand across the table to grasp yours. “He’s trying.”

“He’s suffocating me.”

“It’s going to take him a few tries before he gets this right. He could have flown out here in his Iron Man suit to make sure you were still alive. Pretty sure that’s what he wanted to do.”

“Ugh, no! That’s worse than having you stalking me here.”

“Again, not stalking. This was a recovery mission.” Natasha takes a sip from her own mug. “So you going to come home or am I going to have to kidnap you to bring you home?”

“I still have things to get done today.” You say with a non committal shrug.

“Y/N, you’re fourteen. You have to at least tell your guardian when you’re going to run around New York City.”

“He doesn’t even-”

“Don’t say he didn’t care before yesterday, because that’s not fair to either of you. He didn’t know about you before forty eight hours ago. I was there when he got the call.” You think back to last night when Tony introduced Natasha as Nat and things start to make a lot more sense. 

“If you were there, tell me about it.” You say, finally marking your page in the book and setting it aside.

“He was pretty shocked to say the least. He was confused on why a school was calling him, but then to be told it was his daughter’s school, well he basically went into shock. He was listening to them talk about you while I tried to find out what I could about you. When we hung up he shot into a Tony rant about needing to find you and know you. To not be like Howard and to show you that he was going to be there for you.”

“Who’s Howard?” You ask, not following.

“Your grandfather, Tony’s dad. But if you want to know more about him, you’ll have to talk to him.” Natasha takes another sip of her coffee.

“What happened after his rant?”

“He spent most of the night on the phone with his lawyers. Trying to figure out the best plan of attack and what to do for you. Also spent a fair amount of time talking with Pepper about the situation.”

“Who’s Pepper?”

“His girlfriend, but also the CEO of SI.”

“He’s dating his CEO?”

“Technically they were dating before she became CEO. She’s put up with a lot of his shit before and after being placed in the position.”

“Why?”

“Because she loves him.” Natasha says it like it’s an easy answer. “Maybe you should talk with her when you have a chance. She knows that Tony isn’t easy to talk to but he’s worth it more than any of us.”

“Maybe.” You take a sip from your coffee, not wanting to admit that meeting your new to you father’s girlfriend wasn’t something that you were all that interested in.

“You don’t have to decide right now, but you’ll probably meet her eventually.”

“If it happens, it happens I guess.”

“You’d like her I think.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because she doesn’t put up with Tony’s shit either.” Not wanting to hear about Tony much more you shrug. 

“Do you want to see my favorite place in the whole city?” Natasha doesn’t ignore the fact that you’re changing the topic, but nods. You throw your book in your backpack, along with your earbuds, before swallowing the last bit of your coffee. “Come on! It’s right over here.” You motion for her to follow. Across the street, the red banner awaits you. You ignore the carts sitting by the door, wanting to show Natasha the inside beauty of The Strand.

“Wow, you know who would love this place? Steve.” Natasha says as she looks at the shelves that line the walls. Thousands of books fill the store and you could take hours looking at each and everyone.

“My Pops brought me here when I was like six and I’ve been coming here ever since. It’s the best place to find amazing books.” 

“Where do you start looking?”

“Queer YA, always.” You answer without a second thought. “They always have something I haven’t read waiting there for me.”

“Lead the way.” Natasha motions forward, towards the rest of the store, not knowing where that would be, but is willing to follow you.

“Really? I’m not going to force you into seeing what I look at-”

“I want to see the things you’re interested in.” Natasha lets off a soft smile, similar to the ones she had given you last night when talking with you on the couch and you decide to just trust her.

“It’s upstairs.”

“Let’s go.” She follows you up the winding staircase towards the YA section. Even though both of you could have easily made jokes about the Avenger end cap that was meant to inspire reading about ‘Heroes Just Like You’, neither of you point it out as you walk towards the Queer YA table. Looking at the table, it’s easy to fall into the habit of looking at books and picking up ones that interest you- Love Simon, Aristotle and Dante Discover The Secrets Of The Universe, The Disasters, More Happy Than Not, Every Day, Darius The Great Is Not Ok,and so many others. Natasha eventually takes the books from your arms so you can pick up more.

“I need to pair down. I can’t afford all of these.” You say looking at the pile that has accumulated in her arms.

“Tony can. It’s fine. Ready to pay and head home?” Natasha asks.

“Wait what? I’m not letting him buy these.” You say defensively.

“It’s ok Y/N. You’re his kid and the price of these are pocket change to him.” She starts to make her way towards the staircase to head downstairs to pay.

“Natasha, no. I’ve known him for less than twenty four hours.

“He honestly would demand to pay for them if he was here. I promise, it’s ok.” Natasha steps down the first couple of stairs. “You coming? Or are there more books you want?”

“I’m done.” You say, not wanting her to purchase more stuff in Tony’s name. During the checkout process, you find yourself unable to find your voice as the total just climbs. The number is higher than you’ve ever seen it. Nana and Pops never would have let you spend this much money, but Natasha swipes a black credit card without second thought. You have a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach because of it. That much money could have paid for your Nana’s medicine for a month. And as much as you want the books, you know so many other people it could have actually helped and to Tony it was no big deal to drop this amount of money on this stack of books. 

Walking outside of the Strand, you turn to make your way back to the four train when Natasha catches your arm. “This way Y/N.”

“The subway’s this way.” You point down the street.

“Happy’s picking us up.” You don’t say anything, but follow her. Private chauffeur when you have a perfectly working metro card makes no sense. You’ve been using the metro since you were a child, so stopping now makes no sense to you. Honestly, even though there can be weirdos on the subway, you love the feeling of the train moving beneath you. It’s a part of being at home. But maybe this is part of Tony’s whole not touching things that he doesn’t like public transportation? All you have to do is make it through the next two weeks of summer and then you’ll be back at school and hopefully he’ll cool off.

“Romanoff, Y/N.” Happy opens the door for the two of you to slide into the back seat. Natasha gives him that tight smile. And before you know it you’re in the elevator headed back up to the suffocating hellhole that is the tower. You shouldn’t be surprised to see that Tony is waiting for you when you step off the elevator.

“Never, ever shut your phone off like that again.” You roll your eyes, but start to walk away from him. “We’re not done talking Y/N.”

“I’m going to my room. Or is that not allowed now?”

“We’re having a conversation about the fact that you left without telling anyone and that you shut off a major communication device, so no you may not leave right now.” Tony’s face gets red as his anger enters his voice.

“I’ll put these in your room.  I think you and Tony need to talk Y/N.” Natasha lifts the bag of books as well as takes the backpack from you. Instead of running to your room like you want to, you slam onto the couch, knowing that even if you did leave to go to your room, Tony would probably follow you.

“I know you’re not ecstatic about this new living situation, but we have to put some ground rules in place.”

“Ecstatic is the last word I would use to describe this.” You motion between Tony and yourself. “You’re treating me like I have no clue how to deal with the disease that I have been dealing with since I was four on top of the fact that you won’t let me walk around the city that I have lived in and traveled in since I was a child. You’re treating me like I’m new to all of this when really the only new thing here is you to my life.”

“Ok maybe I’m not handling your diabetes well. And I’ll work on that. But what you’re not understanding is that you are no longer Y/N Y/L/N. You’re Y/N Stark and there are a lot of people who would do anything to get their hands on you. Which means you can’t just wander the streets of New York without at least telling us where you went and shutting your phone off because it’s a safety issue. If you get hurt, that’s on me. And I’m not letting that happen.”

“People don’t want to get their hands on me. I’m a nobody.” You scoff.

“You’re the heir of Stark Industries. That doesn’t make you a nobody.” Tony runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t explain that well enough but on your eighteenth birthday you come into a large fortune and then on your twenty first birthday or on the completion of college, whichever comes first, you have the opportunity to take over SI. That puts a large target on your back and I’m sorry about that, but I’m not sorry that I’m going to put your safety first.”

“I don’t want to run Stark Industries.” You say, the disgust at the idea filling your mouth.

“Then we will figure something out, but right now, keeping you safe is my number one concern. So you can not leave the tower without Happy. No more metro hopping, no teenage angsty storming out of the building, and 1000% no turning off your phone so I can’t read your blood sugars. Also your new phone will be here tomorrow.”

“What new phone? My phone works fine.” You casually don’t mention that you’ve had the same phone for three years, but that it’s worked just fine that whole time.

“I can’t have you using competitors’ products. You’re getting a Stark Phone tomorrow.”

“You just want it so your tech can override my settings.” You imply with a scoff.

“Not at all. I can’t have you running around with competitors’ products, especially when it’s being announced on Monday that I have a daughter.”

“What? Why?”

“Because there’s only so many times you can be seen leaving the Tower before people get suspicious. Plus Monday gives Pepper and the legal team to pull together an official statement from SI too.” You drop your head into your hands. “Talk to me kiddo. What’s with the defeated look?”

“We can’t wait until school at least starts?”

“Pep thinks the sooner we announce it the better.”

“Yeah well she never had to go to high school a week after it was announced that she was Tony Stark’s kid and the supposed to be inheritor of SI. I’ll never have a life again. I haven’t even told my friends yet.”

“You have time. Invite them over. They can come over for dinner tomorrow or something.”

“Ugh, fine.”

tags:  @persephonehemingway  @iamaunicorn4704  @furiouspockettoad  @daughter-of-stark  @eternalharry  @huntective-kyeo

#peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fan fic #Tony Stark #Stark Industries #stark!reader #tony stark can't be dead if you just don't let yourself believe it #peter parker x you #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x daughter!you #imanativeofswlondondahling #becoming a stark?

[scratchbandicoot]

Based on this lovely lil thing

He swears on all the comedy shows he’s ever watched, this would be the exact moment where things would freeze frame, record scratch, and insert corny line, like, “Hi, I’m Steve, you’re probably wondering how i got here-“

And normally, in a situation like this one, it wouldn’t at all be the case. Baking is like, a seriously mundane thing a lot of people do. Mostly housewives, grandmas or kids with their parents but it just so happens that Steve is the one doing the baking right now- and it should have gone without a hitch. So, 20 minutes of digging into the cabinets of his mom’s cook books- he began. He wanted it to be good, not a cop out box of mix because making it from scratch makes it more special. And it’s a fucking cake; how hard could it really be?

Apparently super fucking hard actually. Because what should have been a completely mundane, simple task that takes like 40 minutes tops- Steve was left with this. Referring to the absolute disaster that is his kitchen. There’s like, 8 eggshells scattered all over the countertop- one somehow ending up on the floor and another on his knee. There is a spilling bag of sugar on its side creating a hectic little pile that leaks onto the stove top- (Thank god for his parents expensive ass glass-top stoves.) Somehow he managed to spill olive oil around the sink when the recipe doesn’t even call for it- and to top it all off there is flour covering every inch of the kitchen and himself. The apron he has on does absolutely nothing, the powder covering his pastel blue cashmere button up- and he’s sure he somehow managed to get flour on places where the sun don’t shine. He’s three hours 45 minutes deep at this point and he knows he’s literally about to cry. He can feel his eyes burning with frustration and a huge lump tightening his throat with the threat of unshed tears. How did he get to this point? Well, lets backtrack.

It’s Billy’s birthday tomorrow . Steve has always done something special on Billy’s birthdays- even though he is like, super weird about gifts and being given things. Seriously, last time Steve gave Billy just a dumb little birthday card with snoopy dancing, and text that read ‘a big-smiling, fun-having, great-feeling birthday’- his nose srunched up like he had to sneeze and he gave the most awkward thanks followed by a back pat that- felt so absolutely “hiya pal” that Steve cackled out loud to the point he was in tears. Billy just burned red and sputtered all irritated, “Stop fucking laughing, Harrington.” Guy just cannot handle shows of affection.

This though, was a little more special. A little more personal than a rinky-dink peanuts birthday card- because billy really loved confetti cake. It brought back memories of his mom; how they used to bake the cake together on his younger birthdays, and how much he really missed it. Nothing could really beat the warmth of those memories, or the fondness painting Billy’s face when he recalled them- but goddamit- steve was gonna try, was trying, his actual best. He even convinced Keith that he’d take his next Saturday shift if he let him off the hook today to do this. His nonna had baked with him when he was young-like, 6- so he figured he’d pick it back up. Which was so not the case here. It’s safe to say he is more than a little rusty. So rusty in fact, that his old bike that he got for his 12th birthday that sits in the garage decaying and untouched, had absolutely nothing on him right now.

The first try was peppy; with a shimmy of hips and a waving whisk to the song playing from the sound system in the living room, and Steve thought genuinely that he did it right. He might have, maybe, with the recipe, but the lump of coal that was pulled out of the oven indicated heavily to the opposite. The smoke in the kitchen made Steve cough and gag, having to open up all the windows along with the screen door. The second attempt was a different outcome. Terrible, but different. A cake with singed edges and a liquidy inside that stuck to the pan and got scraped out with an uncermonious plop into the garbage. Mush, really, something akin to the texture of apple sauce. The third attempt Steve really focused, he swears, but that just ended up with a cake that didnt even rise and he was back to square 1 before he knew it with a beautifully new sense of defeat.

So, before he had an actual mental break over a goddamn cake he knew 7 year olds could make better, he called up Ms. Henderson for help. The lady is practically a god when it comes to baking and he really does not know how she does it. Whips out cookies and tarts and cupcakes like it’s going out of style.

“Hmm...oh! Sweetie, I think it might be the cornstarch. It sinks to the bottom of the pan if you don’t add baking soda- did you add baking soda?”

Steve glances at the forgotten unopened box of baking soda leaned against the stoves backsplash. He slaps himself mentally.

“Um, no. No i did not do that.”

“Well then, that’s it! You simply forgot a key ingredient is all. Not a big deal in the slightest.” Ms. Henderson was always very sweet to steve. Maybe because Dustin had become a little brother to him, but she never ever made him feel dumb. Always assured him mistakes are simply human.

“Right, right, yeah. I’ll add that. Thank you Ms. Henderson.” Steve goes to run a hand through his hair but is met with the headband pulling Steve’s hair from his eyes.

“Its Claudia sweetie, you know that.” Steve could hear the smile in her voice. She makes him feel better.

She gave a few more tips, how just white sugar might dry out the cake when used too much and using brown sugar will make the cake’s texture fluffier. He thanks her and hangs up with a sigh. Back to work.

He follows each step meticulously, following Claudia’s directions to a T and slips it into the oven; prays to god that this will be the last time he tries this. He’s only got one egg left and the overly sweet assortment of smells is starting to make him nauseous. After 45 excruciating minutes, Steve huffs and pulls out the cake. It looks... actually it looks like a cake. He smiles crookedly- holding his breath as he slips the cake onto the tray. It comes out in one piece, albeit lopsided, Steve whoops. He finally fucking did it- the cake actually looks like a confetti cake- and Steve is just so fucking proud of it, already going in to make the frosting before theres a ring at the door.

He frowns, wiping the flour on his watch head. It’s midnight- 12:07 am. Jesus christ, he started this at 7 pm, he didn’t even realize-

He hurries up to the door trying to wipe off the flour and make himself semi presentable. The door swings open and it’s Billy. He’s holding a six pack of Natural Light and a smirk that warps into a surprised raise of his eyebrows at Steve’s current state. He’s sure he must like he just ran a drug cartel or something.

“Hi, pretty boy.” Billy says as he walks in, checking Steve up and down. “Whats uh, whats up with your threads? Look like you jumped head first into coke or got real personal with Frosty the Snowman”

Stve rolls his eyes. His breath catches when he sees Billy start walking to the kitchen. He runs and blocks Billy in the doorway.

“You can’t go in there.”

Billy frowns, “What, you actually got drugs in there or somethin’?”

“No- you just- you can’t go in there. Not allowed.”

“Cmon baby whatcha got in there?” Billy starts to nudge past him; never was good at waiting.

“Wait, no- Billy- don’t-“

Billy takes in the state of the kitchen with a confused look and low whistle before his eyes land on the unfrosted confetti cake sitting on the kitchen island in all it’s lopsided glory. He freezes.

Steve waddles up behind him; following his gaze as he chews on his lip.

“I’m sorry, didn’t have time to make the frosting. Wanted it to be a surprise.” Steve scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly.

Billy’s still just standing there, and for a moment Steve is afraid he overstepped. That he was hijacking a moment from Billy’s mom that was only okay to do if she did it. He tries to get a read on Billy from his side profile since Billy is only turned slightly towards him but he can’t. A few more seconds of Billy standing there- and what Steve hopes is stunned silence- before Billy quietly murmurs,

“You made me a confetti cake?”

Steve holds his breath after a strained little, “Yeah.” The unshed tears from earlier are threatening to fall again, “You said you loved confetti cake, and that it made you happy. Wanted to make you happy.”

Billy spins on his heel fast, catching Steve’s face in his hands and lips with his own. Steve’s heart bursts and jerks a little with the surprise. It’s a chaste thing, just a press of lips, before Billy pulls away.

“You’re so... you just...” Billy trailed off and it was, like, a huge thing for Steve in that moment. Billy? Speechless? Steve never thought he’d see the day. It makes his face heat but his heart full and he beams.

“I’m... what?” He draws out.

“Fuckin’- somethin’. You’re somethin’ else.” Billy tugs him in by the waist and uses the other hand to swipe at the flour on Steve’s cheek. He looks so goddamn fond it makes Steve’s heart rate skyrocket.

“Is it okay?”

Billy hums, “It’s so okay. So much better than okay.”

He presses sweet little kisses to Steve’s lips and Steve can’t stop smiling.

“Well,” he says between pecks, “I wanted to do something special.”

Billy hums again, kisses trailing pepper like to his cheeks, his forehead, his nose and now down his neck.

Steve fights down the urge to shiver as he wraps his arms around the other’s shoulders. But-then he feels a wetness at the crook of his neck and makes a soft concerned noise at the back off his throat. He tugs Billy gently off and is met with blue, glassy eyes. Billy was tearing up.

“Thank you.” Billy says wetly, gently, before hugging Steve tight. “God- i- thank you.”

Steve smiles sweetly, hands going into Billy’s hair. He doesn’t ask because he doesn’t need to. Knows that this is Billy being happy, knows that this isn’t bad, knows Billy. Loves Billy.

Steve pokes Billy’s sides- grins, “Happy birthday, baby.” And punctuates it with a kiss.

#my writes #harringrove #billy x steve #steve x billy #harringrove fic #drabble #stranger things #steve harrington #billy hargrove #ahhhh i wanted some soft n sweet fluff #thank you for this idea #scratch writes

[simvlacrvm]

@0first0holder0​ asked: "Sometimes I wish you hadn't come, because then maybe you wouldn't have died. I wish you could have forgotten me and had a normal life. I'm so sorry, I ruined your life."

x

“Jesus fucking christ.” Those are the first words said, well, grumbled after hearing that. “You didn’t ruin my damn life. Quit feeling responsible for that bastard’s actions.” Anger is very audible in his voice, Niji only barely able to stop himself from raising it. He can’t help it. Damn asshole who calls himself ‘all for one’ messed his fiancé up so incredibly bad. Can see the results of it every single day-- every single shitty second.

Like the way he hides food and so much of himself in general. The way he has such a hard time being able to relax. Oh, and let’s not forget to mention how goddamn insecure he is. Makes his blood boil.

“Do you have a quirk that allows you to see the future? Nope. Absolutely noone could’ve seen any of that absolute bullshit coming!” And he’s raising his voice. Man, he’s pissed. Not at Yoichi, never at him, but at a certain someone else. “Hell, I would’ve died at some point anyway, regardless of whether I knew you or not! Everyone dies! That’s how life is! And even if we never met, I’m so incredibly fucking certain that I would’ve fought that piece of shit anyway! I just am like that! Besides, look at how much control he had! You’re not responsible for my actions and neither are you for his, damn it!”

Niji pauses and takes a deep breath, finally aware of what he has been doing. He rubs the back of his neck with a sigh. “Sorry for yelling.” 

The man walks towards his fiancé and oh so gently wraps his arms around him, comfortingly rubbing his back. “I’ve never blamed you, not even once. Yoichi, hon, you’re the best damn thing that has ever happened in both of my lifes. Being with you makes me so fucking happy. Waking up next to you, kissing you, holding you, being there for you, protecting you, seeing you smile, hearing you laugh, watching you do things you enjoy, just spending time with you-- shit, that’s my favorite part of life. You’re my favorite part of life.”

#0first0holder0 #Try not to hold me down. Feel alive when I'm in this town ( Ic ) #I'm gonna be myself or I could be someone else. No one's stopping me now ( Memories back verse ) #I'm gonna hold you tight. Because you're the only thing that I can't lose. I just want to be with you (NijiTenshi) #// haha oof #tw abuse #tw mention of abuse

[twinkleomorashi]

Hey so I thought I’d post one of my old fics to test the waters!! Camp omo anyone?

The second Kylie finishes explaining the rules of counselor hint to the campers I run as fast as I can to the trails to hide. I’ve been planning this spot since I was a kid and finally being able to do it was sending all sorts of adrenaline racing through my body, far past the normal levels one should have during hide and seek.

I scamper just a small ways past the trail entrance and climb the tallest oak tree I can find. The branch is broad and relatively comfortable, but hidden just out of sight of the path to the point where I was still in bounds, but barely noticeable even if you were looking pretty hard. I tuck the popsicle sticks that we’re gonna use for points in my bra strap as I cling to the trunk for extra support, smirking to myself. I check my watch and notice that the game is set to start in three, two, one.

Twenty minutes out of the hour go by and no one has found me yet. I’m pretty proud of myself. Definitely should’ve gone pee first though, but I guess it’s better than dehydration. I adjust myself on the branch a bit. I check my watch, still 39 minutes to go.

I honestly thought at least one group would’ve found my by now. I’m not even in stealth mode anymore. I keep having to move and adjust myself just to keep my steadily growing need to pee at bay. Ugh, I’m such an idiot. I wrap my legs around the branch and press into it as a substitute for using my hands to do so, since they’re what’s keeping me from falling out of the tree. It helps enough and I can’t help but laugh to myself because this whole situation is kind of funny. I’m gonna have to tell June first thing tomorrow. I know she won’t think it’s that funny and I’ll be laughing too hard to even tell it right, but that’s just the sort of thing that we do anyway.

As time slowly passes, it becomes less funny and more nerve wracking. My shirt is soaked in sweat as I keep shifting against the tree. I wipe the sweat from my hands onto my t-shirt before they shakily grab the trunk again. My brain is sending out about a million warning signals. I check my watch again.

“August!” a voice calls. I turn around and see a group, Lisa is leading them. I grit my teeth as I motion for her to come get the popsicle stick since I’m way too high up for any of her campers to reach.

“You okay?”, she asks, “You’re super pale.”

I laugh through my pain and hand her the popsicle stick.

“Yeah, fine. Just chose the worst possible time to have to pee.” I joke.

She laughs as I reassume position and let a small groan escape my lips. I contemplate just calling it quits and coming out of hiding, but now that a group found me it’d be unfair to the others. Besides, I can wait another ten minutes. Ugh, god, I’m shaking. I cling to the tree even tighter, more scared of falling than anything else. A wave of sheer desperation passes over me and I double over as I hold onto the tree as tight as I can.

“This is bad…” I mutter.

I shift more rapidly and check my watch again. The bark of the tree catches on my shin and scapes it as a squirm. I grit my teeth in pain and glance down to see a small trickle of blood running down my shin. I attempt to wipe it away using my other one, but the branch is too thick and I’m just scraping it up more. The stinging isn’t helping with my other predicament at all. I don’t know which pain to focus on more and my body is saying “leg” causing my brain to think it can stop worrying about the other thing. I try to override it by pressing against the tree again, but just the movement from getting into that position is enough to make me accidentally… a little.

“Fuck!” I hiss, immediately clasping my hand over my mouth as I realize what I just said and checked to see if any campers who could’ve heard me were around.

I tentatively glance down at my khaki shorts which now have a small, but existent wet spot on them. I check my watch. Five minutes. Come on, August, just five minutes. Five minutes and then you can run into the nature center and use the bathroom and it’s gonna be fine.

The mere thought causes another leak to prematurely escape.

“No..!” I whimper.

Okay, okay, don’t panic, it’s fine. I can hold it. Of course I can, I haven’t had an accident since I was in second grade! Besides, the more miserable I am now the funnier the story becomes anyway right? Tears start to line my eyes as I squeeze my legs around the branch even tighter. I have to go so bad that my vision is blurring.

“Come on! Come on!” I whisper as I squeeze my eyes shut to stop myself from crying. I feel a spurt run down my leg, it stings my cut causing my to wince and pain and causing another leak to escape.

“Please no!” I plead though the massive lump in my throat.

In a panic I check my watch for the millionth time. Two minutes. My begin to hyperventilate as I try to myself that I’m gonna be fine while knowing that that was getting less and less likely by the second.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! It’s okay! I can- I can-” I stutter as my bladder suddenly lurches.

“Agh-! I- I-”

I break down. Hard. I collapse against the tree trunk and shakily groan as my legs spastically quiver and my body gives in. I can hear it pattering onto the dead leaves below as my legs and shorts become soaked with piss. My breathing is all over the place, quick and shallow as I try not to cry like a wimp but also taking in deep breaths of sheer relief as even my socks get soaked through. As I finally finish up and reluctantly peek down at my shorts. Shit. There’s no hiding what just happened. It’s bad. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do now. I can’t just go back to my group like this.

I decide that I’ll stay in tree as long as I can manage and then sneak back in my cabin and shower once all my campers and my co counselor ere asleep.

I can hear groups walking back to their cabins. The trails are right outside of the we’re the cabins are and I wait until I year all three camps living there go by before I let down my guard and relax. Well, as much as one can relax while hiding in an oak tree in piss-soaked pants. I hear the rumbling of Addie’s golf cart in the distance and think nothing of it until it starts to sound less and less distant. It suddenly stops and I hear footsteps walking down the trail. This isn’t happening. No way can I let her see me like this. I duck back into my hiding spot.

“August m!” she calls, not like she’s looking for me, but like she sees me and is asking me what the hell I’m doing.

“You need to get back to your cabin.” she says, a bit more sternly this time. God, she's terrifying when she's stern. Sweat’s pouring down my back. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

“August?”,she calls, “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” I weakly respond.

“Why are you in a tree?”

“Counselor hunt.”

“You know that ended nearly half an hour ago, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay follow up question, why are you still in a tree?”

“Because I can’t go back to my cabin.”

“And why is that?”

“Why do you care?” I huff in embarrassment.

Addie sighs and leans against the tree.

“August, I’ve been here long enough that I was your counselor. You’re one of my kids whether you like it or not and knowing how much you love this place I know there’s a good reason why you’re hiding in a goddamn tree and not with your group. I mean, no offense to her but your co has no idea what the hell she’s doing.”

I take a deep breath as I blink back my tears and hop off the branch. I can hear Addie not-so-subtly force back a snicker as she sees me.

“I’m sorry!” she corrects herself, still smirking.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. But I can’t go back to my cabin, especially now that my kids are showering.” I blush.

“God, you really are still one of my kids, Pennington.”

“I was sixteen when you had me, stop acting like your some big shot who raised me or something.” I roll my eyes.

“Excuse you, I totally raised you. And stop acting so pissed off, pun intended, I still haven’t forgotten, y’know.”

I blush.

“You’re eighteen and not a camper so I can joke about it with you now. The massive crush you had on me, I mean.”

“I-I-I- What are you talking about?!” I say as I feel my face turning red.

“Hey I could've said have. Don’t play dumb, piss-pants, did you actually think I wouldn’t notice? You're loud as hell, I could hear you talking to Elle about how you wanted me ‘to take you away on my lesbian bike’. Which for the record, I do have a motorcycle and I’ve been calling it my lesbian bike ever since.”

“Jesus Christ.” I mutter in embarrassment.

“Anyway, I can’t take you away on my lesbian bike, but you can settle for my gay golf cart on a joyride to the nurses office for now.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious, I can’t just leave you here like that.

“Th-thanks, but I think I'll just wait it out. I don't wanna ruin your seats or anything.”

My face is practically burning from pure embarrassment.

“Whatever, I'm not the one who has to deal with it.”

“Then who is?”

“You, dumbass, it's your piss isn't it?”

“You haven't changed a bit.” I say as I crack a smile.

“You don’t mess with perfection, kid.”

#omocute #omorashi #omo #omofic #pissfic

[love-fireflysong]

Day 9: Pet

Fandom: Until Dawn Character(s): Chris Hartley, Ashley Brown  Words: 3506 Rating: General  Author’s Notes: Fucking hell. This is so late. I am so sorry. I didn’t expect this to get nearly as long as it did. But to make up for the absolute horror I wrote yesterday Monday, here’s just the worst pining. Like the worst. It’s awful. Nothing but the purest, free-range Chrashley pining here folks! There isn’t even a plot, or at least there wasn’t supposed to be. Apparently I can’t write fluff without a build-up. 

Neither couldn’t place exactly when it all started. Or at least, when something changed between them. Really changed. They had always been more obvious about their affections then either would have liked, not that the other had ever noticed of course. Fond smiles when the other had said something even a little bit endearing. Longing looks when backs were turned. Touches and hugs that always tended to last a linger or last longer than what would have been appropriate for friends who absolutely did not have a crush on each other. 

Each day they spent together was a torture, a reminder that no matter what, there was no way that they felt the same way about each other. But it was always better then the alternative, feeling like a dagger was being shoved into their hearts every moment they were apart. So they endured, hoping in equal turns for either the feelings to fade (it didn’t) or for the other person to finally look their way (they always had).

And while they don’t know when things changed, they can pin point the two singular moments when it shifted.

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

"Just use a pillow, Chris.”

“I would love to Ash, I really would. But I seem to recall that you stole all the pillows and are holding a monopoly on them right now.”

Chris wasn’t lying. He and Ashley were hanging on out on the couch in his and Josh’s dorm room, and she had shoved every single pillow (all two of them) in the dorm behind her on the couch.

“It’s not my fault that your couch has the worst lumps I have ever felt before. And some how only on the back and arms of this thing. Seriously, how do you two sit on here?”

Chris poked at one of the said lumps as he regarded Ash with a flat look. “We don’t. Unlike you, Josh and I don’t read on the couch—”

“I have never once seen either of you read a book that wasn’t a comic.”

“Really not the point, Ash. Also, rude. You’re not wrong, but you’re also being very rude.”

From where she had curled herself up in the corner, legs tucked under her, Ashley stuck out her tongue at Chris. “I still don’t understand why you or Josh haven’t replaced the thing yet. It’s not like neither of you could afford it.”

Chris gave a short snort. “It’s not like Josh couldn’t afford it. Do I look like I have a couple of hundred chilling for a couch? I barely have enough money to pay Josh when he gets back with the pizza. Anyway, it came with the dorm so it would be a big no-no if we tossed it.”

“I still don’t understand why Josh had to go to get the pizza in the first place.”

“The place doesn’t like to deliver on campus. Apparently a delivery driver got their car completely covered in spray paint or something when they had to deliver during frosh week a few years back.”

“...How much longer till he gets back with the pizza?”

As if knowing that he was being talked about, and honestly with Josh, it was entirely probable, Chris’s phone went off with a beep of an incoming text message. “Uh, hold on. He just texted.” Chris looked at the screen for a moment, and groaned. “Shit. He says that something happened at the restaurant and they managed to lose our pizza. Gave it to the wrong Josh W. apparently. So they’re making us a new one.” 

“Are you serious? Really?”

“Unfortunately. Wait. He’s sending something else.” Chris’s face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. “Oh fuck yeah!”

“What? What?! You can’t leave me hanging like that Chris!”

“He says that as an apology, the place is giving us a free order of garlic cheese breadsticks!”

“Ooooh. That is good news.”

Chris nodded excitedly. “It’s gonna be another half-hour or so until they finish making it though.”

“That’s fine.” Ash shrugged, and then sighed happily. “It’s worth the wait for some of the cheesy garlic-y goodness coming our way. Plus, I’ll be able to finish another chapter or two of my book while we wait.”

“Gee thanks, Ash. Glad to know that you would rather read a book then spend your time with me.”

“Oh, Chris,” she smiled brightly and reached out to pat his leg comfortingly. “You’ve always known that.”

Chris narrowed his eyes. “Oh, I see how it is. Fine then, if that’s the way you want to play it...” Before he could think it through, or she could react, he flopped over onto his back and placed his head onto her lap.

“Chris! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

He shrugged as he shifted around a bit to make himself more comfortable. You stole all the pillows to read your book, so I decided to do the same. You’re my pillow now.”

“Oh my god. You don’t even have a book.”

Chris waved his phone in front of her face. “Newsflash, I don’t need a book. Got all the things I could ever read right here. Twitter and facebook and tumblr and games all at my fingertips. God. Join the 21st century Ash.”

She didn’t say anything, just smacked him lightly in the forehead with her book.

“I don’t think pillows are supposed to fight back.”

“Then get off, dingus.”

“Too late, I’m comfortable now. And I don’t think pillows are supposed to talk either.”

Conversation between the two of them trailed off after that, Ash opening her book to where she had last left off with an long-suffering sigh, and Chris turning on his phone. Except, as he mindlessly scrolled through whatever social media app he had randomly clicked on, his mind was not on the phone. Not at all. Nope, his mind had suddenly realized that his head was in Ashley’s lap and it was all he could think about.

It shouldn’t be awkward though! Friends did stuff like this all the time, using each other for pillow, right? At least, Josh certainly did. He was liable to sprawl across anyone’s unguarded lap if they weren’t careful. Hell, he had done it to Chris just this morning! But Josh didn’t have a huge, stupid crush on the person’s whose lap he was sprawled on (or at least, Chris didn’t think so?). But this was fine. It was normal and he could do this! He would not panic and turn into a blushing moron! Which was the mantra he kept up in his head, over and over to distract himself from the realization that she really did make a good pillow.

Which was why he didn’t notice that Ash’s fingers had been running through his hair for the last couple of minutes.

The moment he did though, Chris froze like a statue. His eyes slowly moving so he could look at her in the face. But her eyes were on her book, moving back and forth as she continued to read, and she flicked a page one-handed with practiced ease. She had no idea what she was doing. Probably thought she was petting a cat or something. Yeah! He thinks he remembers her mentioning once or twice that one of her cats at home likes to curl up into her lap when she reads. So she probably just thought that she was petting her cat! That was a thing, right?

He catches her lick her lips when she flicks another page, and averts his eyes, face turning a shocking shade of pink. Only to completely forget that when one of her nails lightly scrapes his scalp by accident and he sucks in a gasp between clenched teeth. It hadn’t been a gasp of pain though, no siree Bob, not at all! It was almost scary how intense the jolt of pleasure that shot up his spine was. He nervously chances another glance at Ash to make sure she hadn’t caught that,  only to watch her wet her lips again and swallow. 

Chris can honestly say in this moment that stopping her is the last thing on his mind. In fact, if he were to make a list of all of the things going on in his mind right now, stopping her isn’t even on it.

So instead, he closes his eyes, phone long forgotten, and just centers on the feel of her fingers running methodically through his hair. On her nails catching every so often on his scalp to scrape at it.. On the sound of her peaceful breathing. On the rustle of a page turning every so often in semi-regular intervals.

He decides that if Josh takes a little longer to bring the pizza, then that’s fine. Chris is more than happy to just stay here like this.

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

She really hoped that one of them was home. Really, really hoped as she banged on the door to the boy’s dorm with her fist. She was ready to admit that maybe she should have texted them first, but well, today just really hadn’t been her day so far.

Finally, finally, she heard movement on the other side of the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Hold your goddamn horses!”

Chris. Part of Ash was really, really glad that it was Chris. Another, just as large, part was really, really bummed that it was Chris.

Yup, it really wasn’t her day. She continued to bang in hope that it would get him to the door faster anyway.

“Holy fuck, I said I was coming! If this is you Brian, then I swear to God—” the door swings open inward and Ash gives a bashful smile. “—Jesus H Christ Ash! What the hell happened to you?!”

She knows that she’s a sight. Dripping wet and covered in mud, and dripping all of this onto their entryway. She sneezes and smiles weakly.

“Hey Chris. Mind if I steal your shower?”

Chris doesn’t even answer her, pulling her into the dorm room and yelling over his shoulder towards the bathroom. “Josh! I need you to get your ass out of the shower! Now!”

She makes out Josh’s voice muffled through the shower and the door separating them. “What the hell, dude! I just got in here!”

“Don’t give a shit! Ash needs it more!” Chris moves to grab her unsurprisingly also soaked school bag and begins to hurriedly remove her thankfully still dry textbooks and binders from within. He places them carefully on the nearby table and she finds herself falling further in love with him all the more for it.

“Ash? What’s she doing here? Doesn’t she have her own shower? She can go home and use that one! This one’s got my name all over it for at least the next twenty minutes!”

Cold and miserable and soaked to the bone, Ashley finds she just doesn’t care anymore. “Joshua Washington! You get your goddamn ass out of that shower in the next five minutes or I swear to God I will rip you out of there myself!” She catches Chris staring at her in a mix of fear, awe, and something else she can’t quite place but makes her stand just a little taller despite the fact she’s shivering and literally looks like a drowned rat and creating a puddle the size of Moscow on his floor. 

There’s a stumble and what may be the sound of a bottle dropping onto the shower floor. “I’m moving, I’m moving! Fucking hell, can’t a guy even shower in peace anymore?”

To his credit, Josh is only in the shower another two or so minutes, and when he opens the bathroom door he stops to stare at her stunned. “Holy Hannibal. What happened to you?”

Ash growls as she pushes past Josh (or would have, if he hadn’t jumped out of the way) and into the sanctum of the bathroom, already dreaming of the hot water on her skin. “I’ll tell you after. Shower first, story second.” With that, she slams the door behind her.

She’s also ready to admit that she spends an altogether too long amount of time in the shower. But she’s covered in mud and cold so really, who can blame her? She also spends a far longer amount of time staring at the bottle of body wash that she knows is Chris’s as she debates whether to use it or not, but she’s less likely to admit that one.

Finished, her skin and hair no longer a muddy brown, but the usual pasty white and dull auburn, Ash feels better then she has in hours. Refreshed and ready to take on the world, or at least the asshole in the Chevy. A hesitant knock at the bathroom door startles her, and with a grey and green striped towel wrapped around her, she opens the door a crack and stares out into Chris’s face, eyes upturned and face pink as he resolutely does not look at her but at a dark stain she knows is just above the doorway. Before she can say a word, Chris shoves an old grocery bag at her and a set of dry clothes.

“Here. Put your clothes into the bag and I’ll throw them in the washer downstairs.”

Ash feels her face redden to match his and reaches out to carefully grab the bag and clothes (where did he manage to find some clothes for her?). “Just give me a sec.” Keeping the door open just a crack, she starts shoving her sopping wet and muddy clothes into the bag and hand it to Chris. “I don’t have my wallet, sorry. Forgot it in the English building earlier.” 

“It’s fine. We’ll figure something out.” With that, Chris grabs the bag and turns to  walk stiffly away,probably to go and search for some change she assumes. She can’t help the stupidly fond smile that comes to her face as she closes the bathroom door and starts to get changed. Only for the smile to drop when she realizes that the clothes she’s holding is a sleep shirt of Chris’s that she is able to recognize on sight, an old grey number with the classic PlayStation logo he had found in a game store years ago, and a pair of dark blue sweats with a waist cord. Oh. 

She spends a moment to debate even putting on the clothes, but realizes that her choices are either a: walk around the dorm in a towel (nope, not happening), b: confine herself to the bathroom until her clothes are clean (at least an hour’s wait, not ideal), or c: wear his clothes (towel is starting to look like a more attractive prospect honestly).

Feeling like her entire body is blushing, she puts on the shirt and pants, thanking the heavens that her underwear had managed to survive her unexpected bath relatively dry. The shirt is almost comically large on her, the collar keeps slipping to showcase one shoulder bare of any bra strap (her underwear may have survived, by the bra unfortunately did not), and the sweats she has to roll up at least five times so she won’t trip and break her neck. As she tightens the cord around her waist as much as she can, Ash stares at herself in the still foggy bathroom mirror, face as red as her hair and wearing her best friend/major crush’s clothes. 

She is suddenly really relieved that she opted not to use the body wash now. Wearing his clothes and smelling like him? She probably would have self-combusted on the spot.

Grabbing an extra towel on the rack, she takes a deep breath for courage and opens the door of the bathroom. She notices Chris’s back as he’s standing in front of the microwave and hurriedly starts to towel dry her hair as a way to hide her burning face.

“I’m making you some hot chocolate if you’re okay with that. Figured that you might want some.”

She sighs happily at that. “You figured right. Hot chocolate sounds like heaven right now.” She takes a moment to realize that someone is missing. “Where did Josh vanish off to?”

“He’s digging in the car for some spare change for the laundry room, should be back up in a—” he turns around and starts choking on nothing.

“You okay?”

Still coughing and face just as red as hers, he wave a hand though his voice is strained when he speaks, really, wheezes. “Fine, I’m fine! Just-just dust, you know? Really should dust more often.”

Ashley tilts her head to look at him in confusion. “I guess?”

“Yup. Just dust. Go and sit down on the couch, I’ll bring you the hot chocolate when it finishes.” His voice is still strained when he waves her towards their lumpy couch.

She sits on it, and abandons the towel to run her fingers through her hair to try and break up knots and get some degree of neatness without a brush. Barely a minute later, Chris walks over and hands her the mug of cocoa. Somehow, they manage to get the mug to exchange hands without their fingers brushing. Good, she’s already obvious enough with how red her face still is.

Slowly, Chris sits next to her on the couch, his fingers tapping a beat on his knees. “Why were you using your fingers?”

Ash blows on the mug, hoping that she can claim the steam as an excuse for her face. “Forgot my brush in the English Building, too.”

“Oh. Um.” she watches Chris take a deep breath, his hands now digging into the fabric of his jeans, holding on as if his life depended on it. “I-I can help with that?”

Ash blinks, not quite understanding where he’s going with this. “I mean, sure?”

To her absolute shock, instead of just leaving to go and grab her stuff from the English Building like she expected, he instead starts to comb his fingers through her hair. The only reason she doesn’t drop the mug in shock is because she immediately tenses at the contact and just grips onto it harder.

For a moment, both are silent, nothing but the sound of Chris running his fingers through her still damp hair, breaking tangles and knots as gently as he can. It’s all she can do to stop from flinching when his hand reaches the bottom of her hair and brushes her bared shoulder.

“So,” Chris’s voice is high-pitched and strained as he speaks, “what happened?”

“What?” Unfortunately, hers is just as strained and somehow pitched higher then his.

“You came here looking like you decided to take a walk through a hurricane, but it’s not even raining outside. What the hell happened to you?”

“Oh. That.” Hands shaking and face burning, Ash struggles to take a sip of the hot chocolate with dumping it on herself in the process. His fingers through her hair is entirely too distracting but she can’t bring herself to make him stop. “You know that huge puddle by the library? I was walking by it to get back to the English Building when some dick in a Chevy decided to drive right through it and soak me. I only came here because your shower was closer.”

“Are you serious? What a fucking asshole. Why didn’t you text though? I would have picked you up at the library and brought you to the campus.”

“Yeah, well, unfortunately I left my phone in the English Building too, I was in such a hurry to leave and study, that I managed to forget an entire bag there.”

Chris gave a short, quiet laugh behind her. “Just not the one with the books of course.” His fingers catch on a particularly large tangle and her breath catches. She can hear him suck a breath in behind her. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t be sorry.” It is. It’s really, really fine. She kinds wants him to do it again, and her face somehow burns hotter at the the thought.

“Okay, If your sure.” He continues with with calming motion, conversation done as she just closes her eyes and decides to fully enjoy and embrace what will never ever happen again. Until that is, he accidentally rubs his fingernail along the back of her neck, the blunt edge scraping the skin slightly as it runs down. 

She can’t help the gasp that leaves her as it happens, her back arching a bit at the sensation. She turns around and looks at Chris, knowing that there is no explaining away her reaction just now.  Both their eyes are wide and and they’re breathing far too heavily for what had just happened.

Behind them, the front door slams open and they spring apart. “Hey Cochise! You got another twenty-five cents hidden around somewhere? We’re short a fucking quarter to run the dryer!”

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

So yeah. While they don’t know when things changed. They sure as hell know when they shifted.

#pride month prompt challenge #my writing #until dawn #chris hartley #ashley brown #chrashley #how the fuck is this longer then seasons?????? #what the hell happened?????

[thecleverdame]

Control and Release - 18

Series Masterlist

TEDTalk!Sam x Reader

Summary: With the rest of the staff caught in a snowstorm, you find yourself acting as a personal assistant to the notorious Sam Winchester.

Warnings: Dom/Sub, humiliation, embarrassment, sexual objectification, mutual masturbation, spanking, cum play, fingering, anal play, orgasm control, nipple clamps, dub-con, breath play. 

Beta: @ilikaicalie

Words: 3k

Parts 19, 20 & 21 are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

-

Sam has always had a tendency to fixate on things.

As a kid, it was easier to hide. His teachers called him “special,” sometimes “gifted.” But really it was an all-consuming voracity to understand everything on any given topic.

When he was in sixth grade one of his teachers assigned him a report on ancient Greece. It was supposed to be a two-pager, easy peasy, something Sam could do in his sleep, but he got an F because he never handed it in. Not that it mattered. Two weeks later they were back on the road. He spent a month in the back of the Impala, reading by flashlight. He checked out copies of The Iliad and The Histories of Herodotus, only to drop them off at the next town’s library and pick up a copy of The Republic. By the time he was done, when he finally felt he had a grasp on the inner workings of the culture and the people of Greece, it was nearly a year later and the paper was long forgotten.

He knew he wanted to go to college and he knew where: Stanford. His future was in California and he could feel it. He had a plan. All he needed was to get good enough grades, he could fake the rest. The morning he left the motel where his dad and brother were sleeping, he honestly thought he’d never see them again. The guilt was real as he walked down the road, sticking out his thumb to every car that passed. It was an uneasy feeling that took residence in his gut and stayed there a long time.

That feeling lingered all through freshman orientation and well into his first semester. But then he met Jess and he found a new thing to put all his focus on. His family was fucked, he knew that without a doubt. But she was his chance to be normal, to be happy. No more monsters hiding in the dark; no more made up stories about the big bad to justify all the crazy his dad spouted day in and day out. No, Jess was all the good stuff in life. She was gentle and thoughtful and way too sexy to be with tall, skinny Sam. But inexplicably she loved him and he felt like he’d won the lottery every day.

Jess became the focus which seemed to help with his studies. She was everything and school was second which made things manageable for him. Against all logic, his girlfriend didn’t distract him, she allowed his brain to focus a normal amount, to move on instead of getting stuck on the details and needing days of research to answer every niggling question. Jess balanced Sam and he never took her for granted. 

When she died Sam thought he might die too. He’d never been in love before. Yeah, his dad and Dean were family and they loved him the way you love the people you also hate. But with Jess he’d been in love, ready to create his own family, to fulfill what he truly wanted in life, a normal job and a person to hold at night. Just when he finally believed the universe wasn’t so shitty, fate stepped in.

Dean came begging for him to join him on one last trip. Dad was MIA and Sam was powerless to say no. Dean needed their father in a way Sam never had. It was just a couple of days, he’d be back before anyone missed him and life would move on.

The police have maintained since the beginning that Dean killed Jess. They theorized that he stabbed her and then set the apartment on fire to cover up the evidence. For years Sam was so angry he let himself believe it. The anger would bubble up from his stomach, get caught in his throat and he’d think about how much he wished he could kill Dean.

So Sam did what Sam did best: he focused. After moving to the east coast he threw himself into law school. He lost himself in books and cases and facts. Anything but people.

Dean found him a couple of years later, showed up right after Sam graduated from Harvard Law. His brother told him how proud he was of his geeky little bro and that dad would have come but you know how he is.  

“Shouldn’t you be drunk or something?” Dean chirped good naturedly as Sam stared at him in the living room of his studio loft. “Celebrating with the rest of the class? Havard fucking Law School, goddamn Sammy.”

“Don’t call me Sammy,” Sam snapped back, folding his arms over his chest. He used to feel so much but as he stared at Dean all he felt was empty. “Why are you here?”

“Because,” Dean tilted his head, looking at Sam as if his brother should have already understood. “This is a pretty big deal. I’m proud of you.”

Sam stared at him in silence, both of them flinching as a car backfired outside.

“Did you do it?” Sam asked the question he’d wanted to ask for a long time. It didn't hurt to think about her anymore. Jess was just a concept now, an idea of what could be taken away if you let yourself care. It happened to his father, his mother died and his dad went batshit crazy. Sam understood now, letting people in was just setting yourself up for pain and misery. It wasn’t worth it.

“Are you really asking me if I killed your girlfriend?” Dean laughed, smile fading as he realized Sam was serious. This tall, beefed-up version of his brother wasn’t the wide-eyed, big-hearted kid he grew up with. “No, I didn’t kill her.”

“Good,” Sam nodded. “Was it dad?”

“Jesus Christ,” Dean had had enough. “You think he’d do that? Why?”

“To prove a point. To get me to come back.” Sam dropped his backpack onto the table. “You should go, I have a lot of work to do.”

“You graduated three hours ago.” Dean watched Sam, realizing the extent of the damage. This Sam wasn’t his Sam at all, not anymore. “You got work to do?”

“I have to find a job, Dean. I have goals.” Sam waved his head. “Please don’t come back. This can be goodbye.”

“You mean that?” Dean asked, lips pursed trying to suss out if this was an act, but it wasn’t.

“Fuck, Dean,” Sam turned, arms spread wide with desperation. “Just leave me alone. I want you and dad to stay out of my life.”

“I hear ya,” Dean looked at Sam one final time before walking out.

In hindsight Sam’s not sure what he believes truly happened all those years ago. His dad might have killed Jess, maybe to teach Sam a lesson about family and leaving. Maybe he was delusional, maybe he thought she was one of his demons. Who knows. Maybe it was Dean after all, the old man did a real number on his brother. Dean was, and is, a true believer, he always has been.

From that moment, Sam worked. He put in eighty-hour weeks, he took chances and he built an empire. With success, isolation came hand in hand. The more money and power he gained the more he saw the worst in people. Everyone wanted something from him. It was easy to become the infamous Sam Winchester he is today.

And then you walked into his hotel room.

He’s always been able to read people, a talent that’s served him well through the years. So when you looked at him that first time, pupils widening, that nervous swallow you still get when you’re excited, he knew you saw him.

For most people, the initial attraction to him is the celebrity of his success. He’s in an elite group of powerful men recognizable by the general public, which has always made him uncomfortable. Strangers in the street do a double-take, trying to figure out how they know him. Sometimes he can hear the whispers as a wife leans toward her husband.

“Tim Cook? No, but he’s someone, I know I’ve seen him before!”

But when you reacted to him, and he saw that pulse of excitement in you, there was nothing else but raw attraction that you didn’t even understand yourself. You didn’t want him, or his attention, in fact, you would have faded quietly into the background if he’d have let you. Something about that appealed to him.

For a long time, it was just sex. He meant what he said. He had needs and you were beautiful with that tight little ass. And to top it off you got wet every time he so much as raised his voice. It was just sex and then one day it wasn’t. It was something more, a small, excited feeling that he hated and denied.

There were two others before you. One woman he paid, the other wanted more from him. Neither of them sparked anything inside him.

But you did.

You asked questions, personal things that no one had dared ask in a long time. You touched him, held him after you came like you already knew he cared for you. The way you rested your head on his shoulder and your arms wrapped around him, dug up old feelings.

Sam hated those feelings with a passion. He still does.

Part of him wishes he’d never confessed them to you. He should have saved you from Brent and sent you on your way.

He’s not good for anyone, he’s a slow working poison. His cold, dead heart will leak its toxin like arsenic until one day you’ll be just as numb as he is. He’ll break you. And you’ll hate him for it, that much he knows for certain.

-

“She’s been like that for hours,” Sam explains, pacing back and forth in front of the bedroom door. “She can’t get warm.”

You woke up like this, shivering uncontrollably.

“Look at me,” the doctor shines a light in one eye, then the other. “Are you having any auditory symptoms? Sounds that shouldn’t be there?”

“There’s, um,” you pause, closing your eyes and honing in on the sound. “A ringing. It’s distant but constant. It started a few hours ago.”

“Take a deep breath,” he instructs, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “What you’re feeling is normal. Everyone reacts differently and after what you went through it would be strange if you weren’t experiencing any repercussions.”

“What do we do?” Sam moves to stand behind him, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares down at you. If you didn't know better you’d think he was pissed.

“Well, I can prescribe something for the panic attacks, but what she really needs is a support system and time. She should see a therapist and it should happen soon. Tomorrow at the latest. It’s vital to involve a professional as soon as possible. Will you be staying with her?”

“Yes,” Sam nods, his eyes shifting from you to the doctor.

“Good,” he turns back to you. “You may start to feel more acute feelings of loneliness and isolation. It’s normal, but you shouldn’t give in to those tendencies. You need to talk, to be around people. And I meant what I said, seek professional psychiatric help. It doesn’t make you strong to try and handle this on your own. It only makes you foolish.”

-

Sam settles next to you on the couch as a half dozen men and women mill around his living room. A tech sets up audio recording while another focuses a video camera on the two of you.

“I’m agent Ashburn with Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms. This is Agent Murtaugh with the FBI. We’re a joint task force and we want to make this as easy as possible. Hopefully, we won’t need to speak with you a second time.” She offers a practiced smile, shifting her gaze to Sam. “We’ll probably need you for follow up. More than one I’d guess.”

“I understand,” Sam nods, crossing one leg over his knee, his arm extending over the back of the couch behind your head. “Do you know how many people were injured?”

“As of right now we’re looking at nineteen injuries and seven fatalities.” Murtaugh leans forward, both arms resting on his knees. “It would have been a lot worse if you hadn’t gotten to him.”

You shift in your seat, looking down at your hands. You want to ask about Max and Tim, but at the same time, you’re afraid of the answer.

“Did you see a doctor, Y/N? We have a lot of resources available.” Ashburn reaches out, tapping the coffee table gently.

“Yeah,” you look at her, feeling your heart speed up. You’ve been fighting these random panic attacks all morning and the medication only helps a little.

“We had someone come over this morning,” Sam elaborates, a hand squeezing your shoulder. “She’ll be fine.”

“Just to clarify,” Murtaugh gestures with the end of his pen between you and Sam. “What exactly is the nature of your relationship?”

That question is so complicated you don’t even know how to begin thinking about an answer but Sam picks up the slack without skipping a beat.

“Romantic,” Sam states simply.

“Right, okay.” Agent Ashburn scans through her notes, looking up to Sam. “We’re allowing you to stay with her, but these questions are for Y/N. I need her to answer, no interruptions.”

“I understand,” Sam confirms and you close your eyes for a moment, trying to focus.

“Prior to him being let go, did Brent ever say or do anything that you found odd or aggressive?”

“No, he was nice. A lot of the junior associates are assholes, sorry, jerks, but we all liked Brent.” You think back scanning your interactions with him. It’s all true, he seemed like one of the good ones.

“Would you say you were friends?”

“No. I mean, he was a work friend, but we’re not close. I said “hi” to him every morning for six months. We talked a couple of times a week. He was more than an acquaintance, less than a friend.” You look from the agents to Sam. You want to give them the right answer, to help. “I’m sorry, I’m trying, I just-”

“You’re doing great,” Sam gives you another squeeze, his voice more gentle and encouraging than you’ve ever heard him before. It’s almost unsettling.

“Yes, you are,” Murtaugh jumps in. “You’re doing what helps us most. Just talk, don’t overthink the answer. Sometimes we get the details we need when people don’t even realize it.”

“Okay.”

“Did you ever spend any time with him outside of work.”

“A few times,” you shrug. “On Wednesdays everyone goes to the bar, he went a few times. I never really talked to him though.”

“How about after he was fired? Did you have any contact?”

“Yes, I texted him. I can show you if you want.” You reach for your cell phone and Sam picks it up from the side table and hands it to you. Pulling up the text you read it out loud. “It was the only time I ever texted him. I just said We’re all so sorry about what happened. Hope you still show up for drinks.”

“He never responded?”

“No,” you hand Ashburn your phone and she reads it.

“We’ll need to keep this,” she explains, handing it off to a tech who drops it into a plastic bag. You shift towards Sam, looking down at your hands. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s just, ummm, Sam and I text sometimes. There are private messages...photos.” You can feel the heat in your cheeks.

“Well, I won’t lie. Our techs will comb through everything but we’re only interested in your correspondence with Brent.”

“God,” you sigh, trying to remain calm. You should have deleted the thread between you and Keith Campbell, some of the things on there would make Ron Jeremy blush.

“Don’t worry, they’ve seen it all.” Ashburn winks, trying to keep things light-hearted and you want to sink into the couch. “I have to ask. We’re unclear on Brent’s plan. We’re not sure if he was targeting specific people, or if it was random. We know he was upset with Sam, do you feel that he may have focused on you because of your relationship with Sam?”

“No,” you sigh, the very thought is unnerving. “No one knows about us.”

“I see.” Both agents ask question after question, right down to the mundane details of your breakfast that morning, and then they go through them again. It’s almost three by the time they’re done with you. Retreating into the bedroom you turn on the TV while Sam begins his interview. You doubt you gave them anything, any insight, but Sam might. You don’t know the details of his termination, it's possible he holds all the answers.

#sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester smut #sam winchester x reader #Sam Winchester