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lovelettersforthedamned · 7 months

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Let Me Be There, Let Me Be Yours

--genre + trope: fluff, hurt/comfort, slight nsfw, 18+ ONLY MDNI

--pairing: frat!peter parker x f!reader

--word count: 1.7k

--summary: while attending peter's frat party, he realizes he wants to be more than friends with benefits with you after seeing his frat brother harry osborn flirt with you. this leads to an emotional conversation about the future with peter.

--warnings: drinking, mentions of alcohol/alcoholic games, suggestive nsfw, kinda forced drinking, protective!peter, drunk!reader, confession, peter takes care of reader while she's drunk, peter's down bad.

--gif credits: @talkaboutyourday

You can hear the bass bumping through the walls of the fraternity as you make your way up the steps of the porch. The first Delta Chi party of the school year brought in a lot of people this time. You hesitate before opening the door. Why you’re so nervous puzzles you, yet those thoughts are quickly interrupted by the smell of cheap beer and smoke flooding your senses. You look around trying to find any familiar faces.

“(L/N)!” Harry’s voice recognizable over the loud music echoing through the familiar frat. You turn around to find the familiar brunet with a red solo cup in his hand.

“Harry Osborn,” You taunt back, “Where’s Parker?”

“I don’t keep tabs on Parker? Who do you think I am, his best friend?” He waves his hand around in the air in a dramatic way.

“Actually yeah,” You laugh, reaching out for his cup to take a sip, “What’s this?” You take a sip before he can answer you. The familiar burn of the vodka runs down your throat. “Jesus,” You mutter to yourself.

“Let’s get you an actual drink, then we’ll go find your little boyfriend, Parker,” Harry throws an arm loosely around your shoulder leading you through the house.

“Since when was he my boyfriend?” You ask, looking up at Harry. He looks down at you with his typical shit-eating smirk and a quirk to his brow.

“My mistake then, just thought after you guys fucked the last few times he would’ve made it official or something,” he joked.

“Well-” You laughed, “We’re just fucking.”

You don’t remember getting to this point of being trashed, but you’re definitely there. One shot turned into two, then Harry offered to take another with you, and another. None of it matters as you finally see Peter grabbing a beer from the fridge. It takes a few ‘Excuse Me's' to eventually reach him, plotting a funny way to sneak up on him in the process, before you poke him on the side of his waist.

“Jesus fuck,” He turns quickly to look at the culprit, you. You honestly wonder how he didn’t get whiplash from turning that fast, “Are you serious?”

“Yes, are you serious?” You ask with a laugh. Your cheeks are warm, as you grin up at him. You think you’re the funniest person in the world right now, and Peter is looking at you with confusion, and a bit of amusement written across his face. He’s speechless at your state right now.

You feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, “Looks like you found him,” Harry teased.

“Yeah, you sure were a lot of help Osborn.”

Peter’s eyes dance between you and his best friend's arm that’s thrown casually across your shoulder. He doesn’t know what’s going on between you two, but he has a weird feeling in his stomach about it. It’s teetering on the line between anger and jealousy, but he doesn’t know why.

Harry sticks his tongue out playfully at you, all you can do is roll your eyes in response. Even though you knew you were pretty plastered right now, you also knew that Harry was not the one you wanted attention from. Being around Peter was easy, and most importantly, simple. What you have with him is strictly a situationship, friends with benefits, maybe. You’re still open to do as you please just as much as he is.

“How many drinks have you guys had,” Peter asks bluntly.

“A few,” The brunet answers for you both. You crane your neck up with a puzzled look, he meets your gaze, “What?”

“A few drinks? Harry, how many shots in are we,” You start counting with your fingers jokingly, you hold up at least 6 fingers, “This is just a few?”

This makes Peter look between the two of you again, “Hey, maybe we should go get water (Y/N)?” Still looking at Harry’s arm slinged around your frame.

“Nah, she’s fine,” Harry once again said for you, “Right, (Y/N)?”

You respond with a firm, yet dizzy nod, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Harry guides you away from Peter, the beer now warm in his hand as he’s been clenching it in his fist the entire time Harry interrupted your brief conversation. He watches as his frat brother leads you to a beer pong table, asking around if anyone wants to play with the two of you. As the game starts, Peter’s already in the background of the crowd watching how you sway as you aim for a cup. As the game goes on, you and Harry gain a lead and ultimately win the game, leaving you to play another round with two new people. Peter has gotten closer to you as viewers disperse to find another form of entertainment.

The second round started, and Peter can tell that you’re not doing well. There’s a more prominent bend in your knees, almost like you’re about to fold at any minute if you’re not too careful. The other team’s ball flew into a cup right in front of you, Harry insisting on you taking one for the team and chugging it. Maybe it’s because Peter has been watching you all night, but he notices a slight gag as you’re about half way through the drink.

This is what sets Peter off to approach you, “Maybe it’s time for you to actually get some water, yeah?” Reaching for your elbow to guide you away from the crowd, dragging you into the less populated kitchen.

“Parker, how many times…how many times do I have to tell you that I am fine,” you sluggishly reply, trying to pull away but ultimately failing.

“Peter, at this point you’re just killing the vibe,” Harry’s voice chimes in as he makes his way into the room, “Just go find someone else to bother, you’re interrupting us.” A smirk is on his face at that last bit, knowing he’s struck a nerve in Peter.

“Honestly Osborn, shut the fuck up,” Peter snaps. This pulls you out of your drunken haze, your eyes now locking onto the guys in front of you.

Harry just laughs, “Whoa, calm down Pete,” he raises his hands in defense.

“No Harry seriously, just get the fuck out of here,” Peter turns his back to his best friend and grabs your wrist, “Let’s go.”

“You’re not my boyfriend Parker,” You snap, ripping your arm from his grasp.

“Well you’re not letting me be your fucking boyfriend,” He quips.

“We’re just fucking, you made that clear since the beginning.”

Peter runs a hand through his hair, “I made that clear? You’re the one that-fuck,” He rubs a hand across his jaw in frustration, “Let’s go.” He grabs your wrist once again dragging you from the kitchen, he doesn’t falter when his shoulder rams into Harrys. He pulls you across the house and up the stairs to his room, despite your complaints.

“What the fuck-”

“I’m the one that made it clear?” He questions, now clearly frustrated, “You’re the one eye-fucking every guy in the room, (L/N).”

“Because I fucking can, like I said you’re not my fucking boyfriend! You don’t have that jurisdiction Peter!” You raise your voice.

“Because you won’t let me,” He spits out calmly. The tension in the room doubles, his new tone making the room feel small.

“Because I don’t fucking know how!” Your chest heaving with rage. Your eyes melting into his hazel set, “I don’t know how,” you repeat quieter. At this point your drunken haze has completely left you with a sick hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach. Peter just stares at you, unable to form words. The seconds tick by painfully slow, you become nervous as they pass. “Can you just say something Parker-actually fuck this,” you cut yourself off, turning to grab the door handel.

“I-I’m sorry,” He stutters, “I just don’t know what to say.”

“Figures,” You laugh sarcastically.

“Look (Y/N), we could make this work if you just let me in,” Peter says.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m scared, Pete,” You glance at the floor with a sigh “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it.”

You laugh,“I just can’t.”

He walks over to you, “Please,” he whispers, “I want to be with you.”

You turn to finally look at him, tears clinging to your lashes, you give him a sad smile as your eyes melt into his.

“Please,” He asks again, “Just let me try, just give us a try.”

“I don’t want to hurt you Pete, I can’t do that to you.”

“It’s fine,” A grin etching its way onto his face, “I’ll wait as long as you need me to.” He brings his hand up, cradling your cheek in his palm, wiping away the stray tear, “Just let me be there, let me be yours.”

You bring your hand to lay on top of his to keep the contact for just a bit longer, “Yeah,” you sniffle before you nod with a grin, “Fine, but if it becomes too much, you have to let it go.”

“You’ll never be too much for me.”

“Should we head downstairs?” You suggest, wiping the rest of ur tears.

Peter opens the door letting you walk out first, “Yeah, I think I need to talk to Harry real quick before I walk you home.”

As if right on cue Harry appears at the bottom of the stairs, “Yo, Parker! What I did was out of line, my bad dude. It won’t happen again.”

“Nah, it’s alright,” He says out loud before pulling him in for a quick side hug, “Don’t mess with her again like that, alright? Everyone else is fair game, not her though.”

A quick nod is shared between the brothers before you head out, walking back to your apartment, since it’s only a few minutes away. You and Peter aren’t simple, and you aren’t a situationship. You are navigating your way through each other’s lives, together.

--author's note: HEY!!! you guys love peter so much, and i love him so much that i had to go write about him again. really in my frat!peter era, so here's my take on this beautiful AU. shoutout to @webslingingslasher for being an absolute god in all things frat!peter, im obsessed. don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support your writers!! ok ily, bye<3.

#frat!peter #tasm!peter parker #andrew garfield peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker fluff #peter parker hurt/comfort #marvel #andrew garfield #college au #frat!harry #protective!peter parker

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dorkszn · 11 days

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PLS PLS PLS MORE GALLAVICH X READER CAN WE GET THEM BEING PROTECTIVE OF READER

GUARD DOGS + gallavich

sfw under the cut, homophobia, violence, cursing, homophobic slurs, sorry it’s short

+ i have state testing coming up so sorry if I’m not very active!!

“Fuck off, Damien!” You shout, pushing at the hands gripping your shirt. The man ignores your order and throws you against the wall. You wince harshly as your head hits the bricks. As if there wasn’t enough of your blood dripping down your nose onto his skin. You swing at his arms and body, banging your fist against him.

“Just like any other faggot, not strong enough to do anything but take dick in your ass.” He laughs, he pulls you up to slam you into the wall again but a voice interrupts him.

“Let him go, Dame.” Mickey suddenly calls out. You both turn to look and find Mickey and Ian standing near the entrance of the alley. A bat stained with old blood sits in Ian’s hand. It goes with the clear gun print within Mickey’s jacket.

“Relax, I don’t want your bitch.” Damien scoffs with a smug grin.

“You got until 3 to get the hell out of here.” Ian threatens, gripping the bat harshly and bringing it to his shoulder.

“1,” Damien lets you go.

“2,” Damien shoves you against the wall and spits at you.

Bang! There’s no three. Just a loud bang. You frantically look up and see Damien in the crouch position on the ground then Mickey holding up the pistol, not aiming particularly at Damien.

“Okay! Okay! Fuck! Relax!” Damien barks out, stammering to find his footing while backing away. “Control your damn dogs!” He adds to you, shooting you a shaken-up glare. You watch as he stumbles down the alleyway before taking off down the road.

Ian sets down the bat and jogs over to you. “You alright?” He questions, scanning your body up and down while patting your arms and shoulders.

“Just a little bit of blood and probably CTE,” you half-snort, rubbing the back of your head. Ian covers your hand with his, softly holding you.

“The blood’s kinda hot,” Mickey comments with a smirk, tucking the gun back into his pants. You turn to him and grin.

“Dame was right, you guys are some fucking dogs.” You chuckle, wiping some blood from your nose with the back of your hand. Ian pulls you from the wall and puts an arm around your shoulder, the two guiding you back down the alleyway. You grab the bat as you walk by it.

“You love us,” Mickey scoffs, lighting a cigarette between his teeth.

“I never said I didn’t, sweetheart,” you hum, reaching for the stick. Mickey casts you a side glare.

“Don’t call me that shit,” He huffs, pulling the cigarette away from you. He loved it. But he wouldn’t tell you that. “You can’t fucking breathe, how you s’pose to smoke?”

“Ian’s done it,” you answer with a frown.

“Well you’re not me,” Ian interjects, ruffling your hair. Mickey passes the cig in front of you and to Ian, who takes a long drag from it before blowing the smoke in your face.

“Asshole,” you hiss, slightly shoving him to the side. Ian gives you a smug grin through the white puff. His freckles lifted with the corners of his lips. “So what are we doing about Dame?” You ask with a sigh.

“Don’t worry, we’ll deal with that fucker later. Right now, we’re getting you to V.” The redhead replies.

#dorkszn #dorkfilmz #shameless x reader #shameless #shameless tv #ian gallagher x reader #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich x reader #mickey milkovich #gallavich x reader #gallavich #gay #male reader

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breakfastteatime · 9 months

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Today's request is 'You've got one minute' for @ralndown ^_^

Every time Cal thinks he’s settling into a routine on Bracca, something awful happens. Maybe the Ibis Maw gets hungry for flesh and grabs a tentacleful of unsuspecting scrappers. Maybe a ship that’s been in the same place for two years suddenly decides to collapse under its own weight. Maybe someone breaks something aboard an old terraforming lab and suddenly there’s a bunch of people turned into trees.

Today, Cal’s crew makes it halfway through their shift before the worst, most terrifying siren goes off. Bracca doesn’t have a lot of warnings for incoming disaster, but this one? This is the one they’re all trained to react to in one way, and one way only.

Get out. Get out now or die.

Maybe that’s why the Force left Cal feeling nauseous all day. It’s so useful like that.

Dropping the wires he’d started stripping, Cal follows the others. Prauf’s leading them and he’s already on the comms, listening intently to whatever’s being said. When he stops still and holds up a hand to make everyone else do the same, Cal shivers under the weight of the collective fear around him.

It only gets worse when Prauf starts issuing orders in a sharp tone of voice Cal’s never heard before.

“It’s a chemical leak. A bad one. We’re too deep in the ship to get out in time. Get into your emergency teams, find a room, and seal yourselves in. If we’re lucky, we’ll see each other on the other side of this thing.”

People break off into their groups. There’s no time for goodbyes or good lucks. Cal sticks close to Prauf and Tabbers. He takes a breath and immediately coughs it out, a sharp bite scraping the back of his throat. Prauf grabs him, throws him into a room, and Tabbers seals the door.

It’s not enough. The room, a tiny refresher, has an air conditioning vent high on the ceiling. Even Prauf can’t reach it to close it off. Gas seeps in. Cal hears people coughing and choking from all around, senses their fear and pain.

“We gotta seal it, now!” Tabbers shouts. His eyes stream, coughing hard. “We’ve got one minute before we’re all spitting out chunks of our lungs.” He pulls a wall panel down. “Weld this over that vent!”

“Lift me up,” Cal says. He puts his filter mask on, hoping it will help. “I can do it.”

Putting his own mask on, Prauf grabs Cal, lifting him. Cal plants his feet on Prauf’s shoulders. His eyes burn, so full of tears he can hardly keep them open. Tabbers hands him a sheet of metal and Cal presses it to the vent, welding torch in hand as he covers it up. He can’t keep his eyes open, so he trusts Prauf to guide him, molten metal sealing the panel in place.

“Good job,” Prauf says, lowing Cal down. “Sit, both of you. That gas is light, so we should be safer down here.”

Cal’s feet touch the ground. He drops to the deck moments later, eyes squeezed shut, lungs still rebelling. His mask isn’t doing much to help, but it’s better than nothing.

“Is this shit what I think it is?” Tabbers’ voice is muffled by his mask.

“Yeah,” Prauf replies. Cal hears him sit beside him. “Someone messed up big time.”

“I’d threaten to beat the idiots myself, but I cannae imagine they’re alive now,” Tabbers says.

“What is it?” Cal asks when he can talk again.

“A chemical weapon designed to rot battle droids,” Prauf says.

“Aye, not that it worked,” Tabbers adds. “It’s far better at killing us organics.”

Cal never heard about anything like that. Not that he tells the others. The idea that the Republic would create something like that leaves him nauseous.

“Looks like no one thought to remove the canisters before we started pulling this thing apart,” Prauf says. “Foreman said someone cut off the wrong thing and boom – we’re all breathing in poison.”

Cal doesn’t join the conversation. He pulls his knees to his chest, keeps his eyes firmly closed, and tries not to suffocate in the feelings of so many people dying around him. He pushes the Force away, begs it to leave him alone like it usually does.

“Cal?”

Prauf’s big, warm hand lands on his back. Cal startles, eyes flying open. His vision is fractured by the tears still running, but the burn is easier to manage now.

“You okay?” Prauf asks.

“Yeah,” he says, knowing he doesn’t have to worry about how rough his voice sounds. And then, because he needs a distraction, he keeps talking. “Can’t believe we’re stuck in a ‘fresher.”

Tabbers chuckles. “Get comfy, brat. We might be here a while.”

It’s two days before the foreman gives them the all-clear. The survivors are given a half-shift break to clean up, get something to eat and drink, and then sent back to work to make up for the two days of sitting around doing nothing. Cal notes that their crew is down several people when they meet up to be assigned duties, but no one says anything.

Back to the Bracca routine.

#fic requests 2023 #star wars jedi: fallen order #jfo headcanon #jfo minific #back to bracca!!#cal kestis #prauf #tabbers

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knownangels · 3 months

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party

wc: 3.5k

Benji keeps his head down, nose uncharacteristically in his phone. He hasn’t got much to take his attention on the screen; its an outdated model with few apps besides those pre-loaded. He uses it to text and occasionally prove Maran on the definition of some word with a quick web search, but that’s about it.

He pretends to find something interesting in the notes app, as he’ll likely be doing a few hours from now. Swiping his thumb up and down the screen, seeming busy to bystanders (too many) doesn’t dull the noise of the store, however.

“Why the fuck d-does this list have —“

Benji glances up just in time to see Benny shake his own phone at the wall of refrigerated fresh juices. They’re in the organic section, which might as well be a completely foreign country to either of them.

“What kind of store even stocks p-p-pomegranate juice?”

Benji rounds the cart, accidentally brushing up against a posh looking woman who seems a little miffed to be anywhere near the loud, brash blond’s vicinity. Still, her gaze sort of lingers on the back of his neck as she scoffs and pushes away, which makes Benji snort.

“This kind.” He says, nudging Benny aside to point out the hourglass-shaped bottle of dark ruby liquid. “Right there, you bellend. Kill ya to be wrong and quiet?”

“Yes.” Benny clips out, snatching the bottle from the shelf and purposefully shoulder checking Benji as he tosses it in their cart. “It w-would. One fancy fuckin’ fruit juice down—“

Benji sneaks a peak at his list, noting the additions of several of Maran’s snack food amongst the alcohol and party basics. “Five to go?”

“What is she, hiring a full s-service bar?” Benny squints at the list then throws his hands up in the air. “Dragonfruit extract. That’s going to be a fuckin’ grand, at least. I haven’t even had that shit before.”

His tone of voice is one Benji knows well — he’s not really pissed off about the contents or length or price tag of Matilda’s list. She’s paying, after all. And her birthday events are pretty legendary; Benny’s almost guaranteed a good time, even if there will be one too many rich-taste cocktails for his liking.

No, Benji recognizes his tone. It’s the get me the fuck out of here strain. For him, it’s near constant in a store. And Saturday morning, with the crowd and noise and —

“Me either. But I’m not gonna be the one to turn up wth a short list.”

Benny, hands on his hips, looks at their cart full of snacks and alcohol, paper plates and red plastic cups. “She’s not gonna notice one thing.”

Benji peers up at him, fingers clutching his phone tighter now. He’d really like to get going. “It’s Matilda.” He says. “And it’s her birthday. She’ll make it your funeral, too.“

Benny’s eyes narrow as he debates this. Then he sighs, head tilted dramatically back on his neck, and shoves the trolley forward with a hip. “Fuck. She really would, huh. N-No issue sharing the spotlight as long as I’m fucking dead.”

“I’d eulogize.” Benji offers as they circle the produce area, round the bakery, and head back towards the center of the store.

“You would n-not.”

“I would.” He insists, sticking a foot between the wheels and Benny’s boots in so blatant a trip attempt that someone behind them laughs. “I’d start it somethin’ like: ‘we’re gathered here to remember’ — y’know, blah blah, how those go —“

“Sure.”

“And then I’d have to say, y’know, ‘he was a disgusting freak of nature but he was ours’.”

“You’ll make me c-cry.” Benny deadpans. He sneers at someone blocking the aisle, which Benji respects. Another reason he hates this shit is because doing that, calling people on their shit public decency, isn’t socially acceptable for some reason.

“We’ll never get rid of him, not really.’”

“Because he was such a light and good influence.”

“Nah,” Benji chirps. “Roach.”

“Fa—”

An elderly woman rounds the corner in front of them. Benny cuts himself immediately off, flashing her one of his weird yet charming grins with a little faux-hat tip. She rolls her eyes and flaps a hand, but takes the offered space and carries on with her shopping.

They meander towards the exit once their cart fills a bit more. A pint of ice cream sneaks its way in among the party supplies. Benji shoots Benny a teasing look when he realizes it’s Maran’s favorite flavor — double chocolate brownie and peanut butter, and not from a particularly cheap brand.

“Might as well just tell ‘em.”

“Might as well just s-suck —“ Benny’s phone goes off with a tell-tale ding! Benji smirks; he’s got a special sound, some little cartoon noise from one of Maran’s favorite shows, to indicate a text from the man himself.

“Not a word.”

“Fa—“

Suddenly, Xavier stumbles out from the neighboring aisle. He looks paler than normal, fingers twisted in the plastic casing of a bag of chips.

“Holy shit they’re all out of Lucky Charms—guys!”

Benji pauses, having taken over trolley pushing duties when Ben’s phone came out to text. “Alright?”

“You guys left me.” Xavier pouts. He starts towards them and nearly barrels over someone, dances around them with comically exaggerated movements that are both graceful and graceless at the same time. Benji swipes his fingers over his mouth to hide the smile.

“Did not.” Benny argues, gesturing down the crowded aisle with too wide a sweep; he nearly hits someone too. “You went, ‘oh, they got the f-f-fancy cheese crackers here’ and ran off.”

Xavier aims that pleading puppy stare on Benji, who avoids eye contact and shrugs. He had done exactly that.

“I got way too high, dude,” Xavier whispers. His breath is hot on Benji’s neck, as close as he’s gotten. He does his best to ignore it. “I’m like five more seconds of noise away from running out screaming.”

Benji snorts. With a hand cupped under Xavier’s elbow, he guides them away from the crowded aisle towards a stack of chips. Xavier tucks one under his arm as they pass.

“Here.”

“Benji.” Xavier whines excitedly, tugging at Benji’s sleeve as he delves into his jacket pockets for — “Oh, shit. These are your good ones.”

Benji deposits the pair of earbuds into Xavier’s massive palm, fighting another grin. They go into his ears immediately. He has a playlist on his phone specifically for — well, this. A bunch of electronic and house music he’s not particularly attached to

“Noise cancelling.” He offers.

Xavier tilts his head, gesturing towards his ears. Can’t hear you — then the playlist starts. His face lights up. Benji has to turn away, cheeks flaming about the fact that Xavier follows only a step behind him the rest of their shopping. At the checkout, which is as crowded a section of the store as possible, their hips brush several times as Xavier tries to maneuver himself away from the press of bodies and noise. Still, his foot taps to the music. The sense of victory is enough that Benji doesn’t mind the drain from his account.

“Forgot my c-card.” Benny pouts exaggeratedly, out-turning his pockets and no doubt hiding the credit card between his fingers in some magic trick. Benji glances at Xavier, happily in his own world, and shrugs.

On the way back to the car, Benji hears a shout rise up in the parking lot. A patter of feet and the loud brrrr of a car horn follows. Something crashes into the back of his legs, and he stumbles against the boot with a soft, surprised noise.

“Yuna!” A familiar voice cries. Benji glances around for it, twisted at the waist, and then instinctively down.

Little arms wrap around his calves. Yuna, a sleight girl of six who sports a poorly managed bob because she insists on cutting it herself, clings to him. He knows her from the community center’s music program for kids; his first semester at the university, he’d found a flier in the campus bookstore requesting musicians for youth tutoring and has been doing it every weekend since. Yuna’s one of his favorites, and a bit of a genius besides.

“I saw you in the store!” She shouts. She lets go of Benji’s legs and takes a step back; his hand shoots out and grabs her shoulder, pulls her back away from the busy lot’s lane.

“Yuna, where the f— where’s your mum?”

“Dad day.” She announces. Then her tiny voice drops, conspiratorial and whisper-light. “I saw you steal grapes.”

Behind him, already lazy behind the wheel while Benji unloads their party haul, Benny snorts. Benji’s face heats up, especially when he hears Xavier’s muffled what, what? and a shuffle that tells him the other man is getting out of the car.

“I wasn’t stealing.” Benji insists. He squats down to fix Yuna’s hood back up around her ears; it’s rainy, and the tips of them are going pink. “I was testin’ to see if they were good.”

“Were they?”

He shrugs, mouth pinched in a thoughtful grimace. “Meh.”

“Yuna!”

Her father, out of breath, jogs across the parking lot. Benji rises to his feet and snatches Yuna up around his hip as he goes. She kicks and laughs, her rain boots knocking a familiar rhythm against his thigh.

“You been practicin’ that song?” Benji asks. He hears the passenger door shut, another set of footsteps on pavement. Slower than Yuna’s father as he approaches, and then they too pause.

“Ba-ba-ba-dum dududu bam!”

“Nice.” Benji laughs. He passes her off fluidly to her father as he approaches. “Can’t wait to hear it on Saturday.”

“I’m so sorry,” the older man says. He squeezes Yuna close, briefly burying his face in her neck. “Yuna, you can’t do that. Daddy needs you to stay holding my hand in the parking lot, okay?”

“But—“

“I told you we would say hi, but we didn’t want to bother Benji.”

“I wanted to bother him now.” Yuna insists. Her bottom lip trembles, but her eyes don’t well up. Benji tries not to laugh at the manipulation attempt.

Benji steps closer to fix her boot, which has started to slip off her foot from all the jostling. “Yeah, happy to be bothered. But you listen to your dad, okay? There’s a buncha cars and it’s dangerous to run around like that. You might see them, but they don’t always see you because you’re so little.”

“I’m not that little.” Yuna insists. She tugs at her father’s jacket lapel, turning the big shiny eyes to him instead with the same goal. Benji watches him soften a bit more and squeeze her tighter. “I got a whole ‘nother inch on my height chart yesterday.”

Benji whistles to indicate how impressed he is by this information.

“If you’re okay to be bothered more —“ her father says, pulling Benji’s attention up to his bespekcled face, “Yuna’s at mine this weekend. I’m, uh, doing this new meal prep thing. Made way too much food. If you have a day open…”

“Oh?” Benji tilts his head at the little girl, makes a face to get her to laugh. “Might have to rain check that, got a stacked calendar. But I’ll see this one Saturday like regular, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Yuna shouts, throwing both tiny fists into the air.

“Uh. Yeah.” Her father agrees, with slightly less enthusiasm.

They say their goodbyes and Benji goes back to emptying the rest of the cart. He’s glad her father hadn’t made mention of the copious amount of alcohol going into the car. He’s almost done loading it all up when he glances over the hood.

Xavier stands on the other side of the car, his palms flat to the roof and face…strangely blank.

“You’re getting rained on.” Benji laughs incredulously. “M’all done here, already loaded up. Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Xavier says, voice thin over the following crack of thunder.

Benji slips into the back of the Mustang, legs tucked up to accommodate the several angle Xavier has to slide back his own seat. He catches Benny’s red sunglassed stare in the rear view mirror, and raises his eyebrows.

“You get the DILF’s n-number, dude?”

Benji scowls in confusion, Benny just continues staring, and Xavier slips lower in his seat, the volume of music blasting from his earbuds rising to a worrying level.

Later that evening, Xavier repays his debt tenfold.

Well. Benji would never think of it that way. Anything he’s done to ease Xavier’s way a bit has been for just that —not with the end goal of reciprocation in mind.

Letting yourself get used? The mean little voice in the back of his head needles. Typical Benji, isn’t it.

The alcohol doesn’t make these sorts of thoughts louder, but it doesn’t pick at the careful netting that holds them back. And once that little hole in his defenses is made, they tend to spill out.

He wonders if he looks as pathetic as he feels, wedged into as quiet a corner of the party as he can find, leaning against the wall. He’s got a rapidly warming beer in one hand, half-finished; it’s his third, maybe. Fourth. He hates the taste of this particular brand, but it’d gotten ignorable the more he’d drank, so. He’d kept going.

And if it doesn’t quiet the sound of his own increasingly critical thoughts, it was least makes the external voices easier to muffle. Matilda throws a good party, and the people around him seem to be having more fun than he is; no one has approached him in a decent spell, not since he’d scowled openly at some poor, pretty blond from Matilda’s glass blowing class, or something. The invitation to dance had died before it could even be punctuated with a question mark. Benji felt a little bad for the twist of embarrassed rejection flashing across the young man’s face, but he was in no mood — and he was no dancer.

He sort of just wanted —

“I need to get out of here.”

Benji swings his head to the side. It’s a bit slower than his thrumming vision betrays. With hooded eyes, he stares up at…Xavier.

“You n’me both.” Benji responds. It’s soft against the steady bam bam bam of whatever top hundred chart song the stereo beats out. Xavier leans down to hear him better, their eyes never straying apart; that consistency makes Benji’s chest twinge.

“So? Let’s go.”

Benji looks around. “It’s Matilda’s birthday.”

Xavier laughs, chin tilting back to flash pale throat. There’s a flashy rainbow strobe on her mantle, and it licks shades of blue, green, red across the column. Madly — drunkenly — Benji wonders if the skin tastes different under each color.

“She left, like, an hour ago dude.”

“What?”

“Irish departure, or whatever it’s called.” Xavier hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “Lark was my ride but he went with her.”

Benji’s turn to laugh at the absurdity of that. Good fodder to tease him about later. What sort of prick leaves their best friend for a chance to get laid? He imagines asking. And, true to his nature, Benji imagines the chipper, smart-ass response: This kind, bro.

The irony of his internal teasing is lost on him a half hour later, once they’ve miraculously survived the walk back to Xavier’s flat. There aren’t any suspicious sounds coming from either of the other two’s rooms, but they sneak on dramatic tiptoes, jostling each other and trying not to giggle, anyway. Whatever sort of sneakiness they think they have is totally undone by the loud slam of Xavier’s door as they tumble inside, falling against one another in a drunken effort to stay quiet.

The irony continues to elude him, even as Xavier finds a movie and kicks off his shoes and they turn around, room stifling hot for some reason, to change out of uncomfortable party clothes. Benji doesn’t thank him for the borrowed pajama set; a blue gone fishin’ shirt with holes in the ribs and a too-long pair of plaid joggers.

“What are we feeling. Looks like Netflix refreshed so all the good horror—“

Xavier breaks off suddenly. Benji gives up on rolling the hems up his ankles to access the silence, half expecting a monster or something equally frightening on the screen. Instead, its just some muted auto play trailer of a shit comedy. Xavier’s staring at a spot next to him, eyes glassy with a remaining alcohol sheen.

“Find something?”

“Yes.” Xavier says immediately. He loads up the movie and tosses the remote aside, diving under the blankets. Benji follows, notes the frame squeaks under their combined weight. Reminds himself to check the screws on the bottom, next time he thinks about it. Next time his fine motor skills aren’t significantly impaired, too.

“Did you have fun?” Benji asks over the jazzy lulling soundtrack of the opening credits.

Xavier tucks into his pillow, hand coming up to slip between his cheek and the soft jersey fabric. Benji watches him settle with heavy eyelids.

“I’m not gonna lie, the best part of the day for me was getting to listen to music at the store.” Xavier admits with a giggle. “Sometimes that shit is so exhausting there’s no way I can have fun.”

Benji settles too; it takes a bit longer, shifting around on the mattress and ignoring the bump of their legs together. There’s no way to fit without touching, so eventually he gives in and slides his knee between Xavier’s own.

“The store?” Benji asks sympathetically.

“The party.” Xavier corrects, to his shock.

“You love parties.” Benji laughs. “You love dancin’ and music and talkin’ to people and crackin’ jokes so forty different drunk fucks piss ‘emselves laughing.”

Xavier casts a quick glance at the television. “Um. That’s a generous crowd estimate—“

“Fifty.”

“Shut up.” He huffs. He goes to kick at Benji, but with the angle and their intoxication, it’s no use. It only serves to tangle them together a bit more. Benji feels the ever-present tingle of a chill slip off him, replaced by a blanket of heat; between their bodies, touching, and the blankets Xavier hadn’t bothered to kick off, he’ll be sweating and over-warm in no time.

He refuses to fucking move.

“To be fair, you did a fair bit of hosting once Til disappeared.”

“They went for a birthday walk.” Xavier intones like it’s a great secret. “Lark had a special gift for her, or something.”

“Or something.” Benji snorts nastily, his shoulders jumping with the force of a restrained laugh.

“What—“

And its no longer restrained, once Xavier’s face crumples like that. With realization. Abject fucking horror, that look. Benji can only hysterically giggle at how the weight of that knowledge (or something, special gift) ages him in seconds.

“M’so sorry, mate. Oh, fuck. Oh your face, Xavier, holy — m’sorry. Really.”

“You’re not.” Xavier whines. There’s no heat to his tone, no genuine annoyance or disgust. In fact, at least to Benji’s own ear, he sounds…amused.

When his humored tear-heavy eyes crack open again, Benji finds himself being observed.

“Something on my face?”

Xavier shakes his head. The quiet sounds of the movie carry on. Benji’s got no idea what it’s about, the characters, the plot. He feels stuck in place by the pinning green stare across the mattress.

“Ddi you have fun?”

He deliberates this. Shopping was fine. He liked seeing his students out and about. Liked being recognized, made to feel important. He liked introducing Xavier (my friend), liked that he stood close and twitched to the music Benji provided, that he’d lingered in the kitchen while Benji helped with party prep, that he’d given the earbuds back dead because he enjoyed the playlist enough to listen all the way through.

He hadn’t liked the party. But he liked leaving it. He liked leaving with Xavier. He liked the idea that people had seen them leave together. That people had also, inevitably, seen Matilda and Lark do the same. Benji liked the idea that maybe similar conclusions would be drawn.

And he feels bad for that. Feels unfair. Feels — feels…guilty. Dirty. Manipulative.

He swallows the strange lump in his throat and shifts a bit in bed. Their legs are still tangled; he can’t go far. Instead of answering, Benji dodges. He tells the story of one of Saha’s equally legendary birthday parties, just to draw a thread of connection. To keep his mind off the warm body so close to his, touching him.

To keep his mind off the fact that Xavier’s eyelashes flutter prettily as he holds onto conscious. That he tries so hard to keep listening, even as sleep takes him.

Benji keeps his mind off all that, largely; at least until Xavier sighs as he goes under. The second his breathing evens out into something sleepily rhythmic, Benji’s brain fills with nothing but thoughts of Xavier content just like this. Falling asleep this way, movie in the background. A dozen times before this, and if he’s lucky, a dozen times after.

As tired as he is from the long day, he genuinely isn’t sure if he’s dreaming as he tucks hair behind Xavier’s ear, presses knuckles to a sharp, cheekbone. He hopes so. He doesn’t have permission to touch — to bother.

I had fun. Benji thinks, vision blurring as the exhaustion catches up to him now, too. I feel happy. You were around. How could it be anything else?

#writing #bp #xw #bp x xw #jlb #college au #i just wanted to write something cute im sorry ok it is brainless and boring with no plot but i Needed To

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katberk · 2 years

Text

The Imaginary Friend P2

Eddie Munson x fem! Reader

(2/2)

Soulmate au - Imaginary Friend

Summary - Y/N isn’t happy that Jason interrupted her conversation with her soulmate, she gets violent with a lunch tray

Warning: Bad punctuation and grammar, and POV changes a lot from 3rd to Eddie’s so bare that in mind :)

“Is this freak bothering you?!”

That voice belonged to the blonde haired boy with the terrible threat. He just decided to come up and interrupt the conversation that was right in front of him. His eyes were narrowed and his jaw was clenched.

“No, not at all actually!” Y/N started up. “If you didn’t see with your eyes that I walked up here myself you would of known already!” Her passive aggressive tone went through the jock’s ears and straight to the floor when he just kept on talking telling her that his name was “Jason”and if “I didn’t see who I was taking to!”

His whole existence was making her blood boil. Shaking her head she turned to Eddie once more and continued. “Hi! Yeah, you’re just super familiar and I wanted to talk.”

Eddie’s smile just couldn’t be wiped off his face. Even with Jason who was still behind the girl that made his heart beat faster than normal, mocking him, his attention was only on her.

“Come on Ed’s! Cheer up, you’ll graduate next year.” The girl next to me said throwing her arms up and around my neck. “And look on the bright side! I’ll be closer to being a senior so maybe we can graduate together!”

“Y/N it’s not that simple! I should be out of the shit hole, not spend another grueling year trying again.” My shoulders started to shake as tears formed in my eyes. “So I can get away from Hawkins and find you… I just want to find you.”

Her shushes and whispers swam around the room. Her hands rubbing my back, breath on my neck, and her words in my ear. “Please don’t cry Ed’s. This isn’t the worst outcome.” Her pointer and middle tapped my chin softly. “Look at me Eddie-bear.”

Eddie-bear. The nickname that I always loved to hear.

“We’ll find each other. Maybe not this year, but soon. I can feel it!” Her body started to become transparent. “For now, I’m happy being your imaginary friend.”

And with one last smile, she was gone

“Is he dead?!” Dustin’s voice cut Eddie’s concentration.

Getting back to reality Eddie noticed that the lunch room was quite. Dead quite. Standing up a little his eyes laid on Jason Carver on the floor not moving. Moving his eyes to his right was Y/N, the new girl at Hawkins, with an empty lunch tray that was probably Gareth’s in a vice grip turning her knuckles white. She was standing over the jock with a shocked but enraged expression.

“Hey Eddie, I think she killed him… he’s not moving!” Dustin leaned over to the metalhead that had his mouth agape.

The tray made a clattering sound when it hit the floor and Y/N started to become antsy. Everyone was looking at her with either shock, happiness, or death, and she did not want to stick around for the latter. Making eye contact with her astonished other half she grabbed his arm and ran out the double doors tripping slightly on the way out.

“You’re a little off Ed’s.”

Glancing up at Y/N I gave a slight tilt of my head. “What do you mean?”

“You just did an E-flat, it’s suppose to be a B-flat.” She corrected not looking up from the magazine on her lap.

“No it’s supposed to be an E-flat.” Strumming the guitar to prove my point she finally looked up and shook her head.

Pointing her freshly black painted nails at the music sheet she smirked. “Ed’s it clearly says B-flat…”

“Shit…” Hiding my face in embarrassment I placed my guitar back on the wall and splayed out on the bed. “You’re right!”

“You have to attention!”

“How can I when you distract me Angel?”

That caused her to laugh, and that laugh caused me to smile.

The two ran until the bench was seen. “Okay! So maybe I went a little bit overboard.” Huffing Y/N tilted her head to peer at Eddie’s face hoping for a good reaction.

“Overboard?! Angel you whacked Jason Carver with a lunch tray so hard people thought he died on impact! That’s fucking badass!” Eddie beamed pacing the leafy ground while Y/N started to sit on the wooden bench.

“I mean, he was talking shit about you.” She mumbled sighing when Eddie stopped his movements. “He was talking all this crap about you being this leader to a giant satanic cult and how freaks shouldn’t be around me…”

“Well, yeah, that’s Hawkins high. I’m Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson!” He gave a little bow and crooked smile.

“You never told me how bad it got. You always said you were doing good, that I didn’t need to worry.” Y/N said placing her cheek on her left knee. Eddie made his way over and sat next to her coping the position she was in.

“Angel, I told you that because it was true. You never had or needed to worry about me, and I was doing good. You made my days good.” He placed his free hand on the girl’s head rubbing the baby hairs out of her face. “Having you there with me after every shitty day made me forget and enjoy the rest.”

Scooting closer Y/N placed her head on Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m so glad I found you Eddie-bear.”

Smiling and lying his own head on hers he closed his eyes and replied. “And I m’lady Angel am too!”

And with that the two halves became a whole on the wooden bench that very day.

Imaginary friends that became reality.

⭐️Tag list⭐️

@grungegrrrl

@tpwkstiles

@fangirling-4-ever

@marianita195

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfics #stranger things soulmate au #stranger things soulmate #soulmate #soulmate au #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem! reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader soulmate #eddie munson x reader soulmate au #eddie munson x y/n

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mignonricciardo · 1 year

Text

august | dr3

chapter three

I had writer's block for a while on this one, but once it started, I was CHUGGING away. thank you all so much for the love on this <3 august is my baby, and I'm so excited to be sharing it [please let me know if there are any formatting or accessibility issues! tumblr editor messed up my text and I'm ~hoping~ I've fixed it all]

notes: day five (8.5k words)

warnings: alcohol consumption, intoxication, mention of death, grief, mention of first kisses

here is chapter 1 and chapter 2

Day 5 of 19

“Now this is too good.”

I groan when the voice startles me awake, and I go to roll over to reach for something to toss at the intruder. When I roll, my head bumps someone else, and we both groan as we hold the tops of our heads. I quickly realize it’s Daniel. Shit, we fell asleep on the couch. Once I’m finally aware of my surroundings, I notice how my arm is pressed against Daniel’s and my leg is tucked beneath his. Startled, each of us pull away to sit up on the sectional. We avoid each other’s gaze as we look at Michael in front of us, ready for his workout and grinning as he snaps pictures on his phone.

“You had a movie night without me?” he asks, laughing at the images on his phone as he shows us one of us both asleep.

“Sorry lover boy,” Daniel’s voice is gruff in the early morning hours, and he ruffles his hair which sticks up wildly. “You were busy up there.”

“Piss off,” Michael laughs. “I could say the same for you two.”

“You’re disgusting,” I throw at the trainer, lifting myself from the couch to stretch once I’ve finally untangled myself from Daniel’s limbs.

The two men laugh before chatting about their workout for the day, and Daniel heads up the steps without another word to hurriedly dress for his session with Michael. I put coffee on, sighing as I take in a deep breath of the comforting smell filling the kitchen, and my eyes catch Daniel’s wild hair before he disappears around the corner of the top landing. Michael grins as he follows me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he picks through a stack of old mail, and he stares at me as I move through the space.

“What do you want?” I sigh as I rub my eyes, glaring at him once I’ve rid them of the sleep still hanging heavy in my lashes.

“Callie,” he chuckles quietly, tossing a clementine between his hands, “you’re sucked right back in.”

“No, I’m not,” I answer as the coffee pot starts hissing. “We’re best friends, Michael. You know how much I love both of you. We just fell asleep during the movie.”

He sighs gently, “I just want you to be okay—both of you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I reach for the pot.

“Listen, Callie, I don’t know what happened, but it’s obvious something did,” he glances at the steps to make sure Daniel hasn’t started to come down. “I know both of you were heartbroken, and you’re both heartbroken again between your dad and his contract. I don’t want either of you to get worse. I saw what happened in France.”

His words hit me square in the chest—true concern for his two best friends. I place an arm on Michael’s forearm, tone softening, “I appreciate you, Michael, especially with how you look after both of us. We’re going to be okay. There’s coffee for you both when you get back.”

“Callie,” he starts, but Daniel’s voice as he sings a song and comes barreling down the stairs interrupts him. Michael’s voice drops low before the driver makes it to the bottom of the stairs, “I’m not finished. We’ll talk later.”

“Well, I’m running errands today,” I start, flicking off the pot as I start toward the stairs. “See you guys later. Enjoy the workout!”

I’m pushing myself up the stairs before Michael can get another word in, and Daniel calls a goodbye as they head toward the front door. In the hallway, I pass pictures along the walls—Daniel and Michael at the karting track with helmets on, Daniel and his father fixing a motorbike out back, Michael and Jack tossing each other into the pool. I linger in front of the final picture leading into my room. It’s my dad and I with his hand covering mine as he helps me light the sky with a sparkling firework. My eyes are crinkled as I’m mid-laugh, and my dad’s dimples are evident in the glowing light of the sparkler in front of us. My heart tugs at the image, and tears are welling in my eyes as the memory floods me. Would seeing him in this house ever get easier?

Climbing into the car, I welcome the comfort of the leather seats as I pull away from the house. I catch a glimpse at Daniel and Michael training in the garage on the other side of the house, kettlebells spread in the makeshift gym. The drive to Greenhouse is familiar, and despite the coffee this morning, I order another as I find a spot in the corner pressed against the bay window to get some work done. I pick through emails and ignored text messages from coworkers, getting myself caught up on communications with agents, the publishing house and authors. I save two more manuscripts to my computer, marking them to print when I get home, and turn toward the manuscript I’d been working on since arriving at Madfish. I become lost in the manuscript, marking margins with pen and sentences with highlighter, digesting every sentence as I’ve already moved on to the next. My glasses slip down the bridge of my nose, but I don’t even notice as I become engulfed in the plot before me. I’m not sure how long it’s been when I get interrupted by another coffee cup landing on my table.

“Figured that one is cold,” a man says, and I look up startled.

He’s tall and blonde with a hint of a British accent, and I must be staring dumbly as he begins to explain, “You’ve been here long as me and I’m on my third. I asked up front what you ordered.”

I nod slowly, still processing the beauty of the man before me offering me a coffee, “Flat white?”

He nods with a soft smile, “I’m more of a latte guy myself.”

I clear some of my things to the side, motioning for him to sit, and I thank him for the coffee repeatedly after finding my old flat white was entirely cold. I sip from the new one as we speak. “Yeah, visiting for the winter. There’s something about the beach when it’s cold out.”

He nods along with me, “I’m still learning my way around. I’ve been in Melbourne for a few years, but I’m here for business right now. Looking at buying some properties for my company.”

Our easy conversation continues, and it’s not long before his phone starts buzzing repeatedly in his pocket. He eventually checks the caller ID with a groan.

“Look, I’ve got to take this, but I’d love to get to know you more, especially that you know the area better than me,” he smiles gently. “Meet me for a drink later?”

Michael’s words from earlier repeat in my mind—you’re sucked right back in. The ping around for a moment. Just long enough for the man in front of me to start to wonder of my hesitation, and with a sudden surge of confidence, or maybe spite, I answer.

“Asking me for a drink without even knowing my name?” I grin at him despite the hollow feeling in my chest.

He chuckles, sticking a large hand out across the table, “I’m Theo.”

I shake his hand, “Callie.”

“So, Callie,” he grins, pulling his hand away to write his number on the sleeve of my coffee cup, “meet me for a drink later? You pick the place.”

“MacDonald’s at 8,” I grin as he stands. “I’ll text you the details.”

“I’ll see you then,” he responds warmly before stepping away, answering his phone and heading outside of the coffee shop.

Did that just happen? I stare dumbly at the work before me, trying to wrap my head around what I’d just agreed to. When I look up from the manuscript before me, Theo is gone from the front of the coffee shop, but once glance at the coffee he had brought me reminds me to save his number to my phone. Once I finish some more work, I start cleaning up all of my items and slip the coffee sleeve into my bag before throwing away the empty cup. My drive back to the house has nerves eating my stomach, but it isn’t nerves for how drinks will go with Theo. It’s about how I’m going to tell Daniel and Michael. When I arrive home, parking next to Daniel’s sleek car in the gravel lot, Michael and Daniel are lounging in the living room arguing what to make for dinner.

“Thank God you’re home!” Daniel calls as I drop my bag on the kitchen island. “We’ve been trying to figure out what to make for dinner, and you’re the tie breaking vote.”

My chest warms when he calls this place home, and I suddenly remember the nerves eating away at me in telling them I’ll be gone tonight. I make an attempt to hide my hesitation in answering, but Michael has picked up on it before I can try to mask it.

“What’s wrong?” the trainer asks, sitting up some from the couch.

Daniel follows suit, eyebrows drawn as he looks at me from across the room. I pick at my nails as I take a steadying breath.

“So, I won’t be here for dinner tonight,” I start with the two men. “I’m getting drinks with someone. A guy. I met him at Greenhouse.”

“You have a date?” Michael asks, brows high as Daniel stares at me.

“Not a date,” I quickly answer, feeling Daniel’s eyes on my face. “Just a drink. His name’s Theo.”

A silence settles as we wait for Daniel to say something, but he just stares at me for a moment with drawn brows. I can just make out the divot in the side of his right cheek, hidden beneath stubble and the shadows of the room—he’s upset. A part of me wants to say something, but until he can say something himself, I hold back. He suddenly shifts his expression, throwing a grin on his face.

“Theo sounds like quite the catch,” he starts. “What time are you leaving?”

“I’m meeting him at 8 at MacDonald’s,” I start.

“I’ll drop you off so you don’t have to worry about parking,” he says with a sense of finality.

“Daniel, it’s really okay. I wasn’t planning on drinking much and-”

“I’m dropping you off,” he states finally, and Michael looks between us as we battle with our words. “If he’s such a catch, he should bring you home like a gentleman.”

Silence falls across the room, and Michael stands to break the growing silence, “Well, I’ll work on dinner. Cal, I’ll leave you some in the fridge for when you get back.”

Michael walks toward the kitchen, opening the fridge and gathering ingredients to start on whatever he is making. Daniel and I continue our faceoff, staring at one another before I huff and grab my bag to head toward the stairs. I inform them I’m going to finish some work before getting ready, and I don’t look back as Daniel’s eyes follow me up the steps. I drop my bag in my room next to the stack of leaning books, sighing as I flop on to the bed. I stare up at the ceiling and the still fan as memories flood me.

“You can’t be serious,” Daniel says, following me up the stairs. “Does your brother have any idea?”

“No, and he won’t because you’ll keep your mouth shut,” I answer defiantly as he follows me into my room. “I can make my own decisions.”

“Apples, he’s a dick,” Daniel continues as I pick through my closet. “I’m just trying to protect you.”

“He’s nice and actually interested in me,” I glare at him. “Besides, it’s not your job to protect me.”

“Yes, it is,” he calls, flopping onto my bed. “As your best friend and brother’s best friend, it is entirely my job to protect you.”

“Won’t Allison be there?” I roll my eyes, feeling jealousy rear its ugly head.

“It’s Alyssa, but yeah, I think she’s going,” he lays back on my pillow, poking the stuffed dolphin next to his head.

“Perfect, you can hang out with her while I have a good time with Liam,” I pull a bikini from the depths of my closet and toss it to the bed.

Daniel picks it up gingerly with his fingertips, eyes wide as he holds it up for inspection, “No way in hell you’re wearing this, Callie. You have to make him work for it at least a little bit. It’s Liam fucking Anderson.”

“Excuse me?” I spit at him, scoffing as my eyebrows reach toward my hairline.

“Excuse me?” he responds in a mocking tone. “You can practically see everything! You’re 15, Callie!”

“Do I need to remind you what you did last summer?” my voice is raising in volume as he interrogates me.

“This isn’t the same,” he rolls his eyes. “You’re a girl, Cal. You know people don’t talk about us the same. I’m just looking out for you.”

“Looking out for me?” I scoff, pulling the bikini from his fingers. “Please. Cut the bullshit and then maybe I’ll listen.”

“He’s going to break your heart,” Daniel says matter-of-factly.

I glare at him where he’s spread on the bed, curls fanned out around his head and tan skin seeming darker against the mint duvet. He tosses the stuffed dolphin above his head, lean arms flexing as he does, and the single earring in his lobe glints with each pass of his arm. He eventually meets my eyes, catching my dolphin and holding it against his chest. Silence ensues as we stare at each other—one of our infamous showdowns. He is the first to break beneath the weight of my angry eyes.

“Callie, you need to trust me that I’m looking out for you.”

I start to waver beneath his gaze. Stuck in his brown eyes and easy tone, my angry face starts to crumble.

“You need to let me do things on my own,” I answer. “You need to let me be free one day.”

“And I will,” he starts, sitting up to look at me more closely. “I will when I know it’s someone who isn’t going to break your heart.”

“Like Alyssa won’t break yours?” I challenge him, eyes locked onto his.

“She doesn’t have my heart or whatever you girls say,” he smirks with a laugh, but his eyes return to mine. “It’s why I know Liam will break yours. I know how guys work.”

“And do enlighten me,” I spit at him, anger rising the closer he gets to me.

Daniel stands from my bed, suddenly towering over me and leaving the dolphin and bikini forgotten on the mattress, “He’ll take one look at you in that and immediately want to kiss you.”

“And that’s bad because?” my voice trails off, suddenly growing quieter as I notice how close he is.

“Because you’ll have your first kiss with someone like that,” Daniel says, voice quieter as he continues his slow step into my space. “Someone who only sees your body instead of you.”

“Then who should my first kiss be?” I throw at him as I try to ignore my heart leaping into my throat. “Don’t have a lot of takers.”

Daniel chuckles at my comment, “I see how guys look at you. There’s a lot of takers.”

“You’re just saying that,” I scoff.

“Why are you so nervous?” he smirks suddenly. “Surely, that’s why you haven’t kissed anyone yet.”

My face burns red, and I hope that Daniel will get the hint, but he refuses to end my embarrassment and misery. His smirk deepens as I feel my face light up in flames. Even my ears are burning.

“I don’t know how,” I whisper, hyper aware of his torso only inches away from me. “I’m nervous to mess it up.”

“It’s completely natural, Apples,” he says immediately, his smirk playful but not mocking. “I promise you.”

“It’s natural?” I ask, and he nods emphatically. “Entirely.”

Silence falls for a second, and our breaths fill the space between us. My eyes trace the light freckles across his face like a roadmap, and his eyes dip to my lips and back to my gaze. His intake of breath steals mine from my lungs.

“Do you want me to show you?”

Before I know it, I’m nodding my head gingerly, and his hand rests softly on my cheek. Fingers curl behind my head and neck. He lifts his eyebrows as if to ask if it’s okay, and with a subtle nod and parting of my lips, he leans forward. Our lips meet briefly, but it’s enough to send butterflies bursting in my stomach. When he pulls away, my eyes open softly, and I notice my hand on his chest. Silence hangs, but he clears his throat when we hear footsteps on the stairs.

“Are you guys almost ready?” Jack calls, not even looking into my room as he saunters down the hall toward his bedroom. “I’m not waiting for you like last time, Callie!”

“We’ll be ready!” Daniel calls, cheeks with a hint of pink as his eyes stay on mine.

There’s space between us now, and I’m still trying to wrap my head around what just happened. Daniel kissed me. That’s what happened. It was sweet. Soft. Everything I ever wanted.

“See?” he says suddenly. “Entirely natural. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, eyebrows drawn as he starts to walk toward the door.

“You’re ready for your first kiss,” he grins his signature smile. “Liam won’t know what hit him.”

The memory continues to replay in my mind as I get ready, flashing in images as I do my makeup in the bathroom mirror or digging through my finally unpacked bags for a suitable outfit. That was the first time anyone had kissed me yet alone the first time Daniel had. It was soft and sweet, and everything my 15-year-old self needed to boost her confidence. It was so Daniel—sweet yet playful, caring yet casual.

I glance in the mirror in my room, the same mirror I had scrutinized my appearance in some 15 years before, and I consider the outfit. A white tank tucked into my favorite denim, complemented by gold jewelry and platform Converses. The black leather jacket and purse sit on the end of my bed as I spray perfume and make sure my bangs are sitting right. I can hear the boys downstairs, turning my music up on my phone to drown them out. As I rush around the room, finishing getting ready, I miss the footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Callie, are you almost-”

I jump as I spin around in the room, shrieking as I look toward the door. Daniel stands in the doorway, lips still parted from his unfinished question and forearms resting on the door as he leans in. His eyes are on me, and I can’t help but feel his stare. We’re silent for a moment, looking at each other while our brains fire at rapid speed.

“You look good, Cal,” he says after clearing his throat, eyes lingering on my tank before meeting my face. “Hopefully you’re not too cool for him.”

“Too cool for him?” I ask, hyper aware of his eyes on me.

Daniel laughs as he nods his head, “Yeah, you’re too cool for him. He’ll be wearing a suit.”

“Believe it or not, a suit looks good on men, Dan,” I grin. “I know you wouldn’t really know that, though.”

He laughs at my dig, groaning an ouch as he brushes his own shoulder. I laugh at his act, trying to remember my annoyance at him from earlier. I grab my jacket, shrugging it over my shoulders, and slinging my purse across one of them. He watches me from the doorway, forearms still pressed into the wood, and I stand before him once I have everything. Neither of us yield at first until I finally break the silence.

“So, are you ready to go?” I say, waiting for him to move out from the door.

He does one last glance at me before answering, “I’ll grab my keys. We’ll intimidate him by using my car.”

“Daniel!” I shriek, but I can’t help the grin spreading on my face at his comment.

Is he jealous? I follow him down the wooden stairs, laughing as he presents me to Michael who whistles at my appearance. Michael makes a comment about not coming home too late, and a sudden pang rips through me—it’s something my dad would have said years before in the very same spot. Making dinner with a towel over his shoulder, Dad would make Jack promise he’d have me home, and Daniel would always be there to make sure he listened. I freeze at Michael’s comment, nodding my head absently as Daniel reaches for his keys, and while the two boys notice my sudden change in demeanor, they act no differently. Michael wishes me luck before Daniel shuts the door behind me.

The drive is familiar even with how dark it is. The road winds away from the house, and Daniel plays something through his phone that reverberates through the car. It’s a house song I recognize as one he had sent me earlier during the season. With every good luck text from me, he’d send me the song he was listening to before the race. It was a little tradition that had started despite our strained relationship. Our silence stretches.

“Are you okay?” his voice startles me as I watch the moon reflect off passing waves.

I glance at him and debate telling the truth before settling on a lie, “Just a little nervous. Last time I’ve really done a date or anything was April.”

“Right, the ex,” he says, seemingly buying my excuse. “What exactly happened there? I know you said you didn’t love him, but…”

His voice trails off, and I meet his eyes before turning back toward my window, “I’ll be honest—he made it hard to want to love him. Even when I tried, I couldn’t make it.”

“I don’t think you should have to try to love someone,” he says quietly over the music. “If you love them, it should work.”

“I think you can try not to love someone, but you’ll love them anyway,” I whisper. “Even when you know you shouldn’t.”

Daniel opens his mouth to answer, but he shuts it again as words fail him. I can’t tell what’s running through his brain. His eyebrows furrow, and a divot appears in between them. He takes a sharp breath when he finally finds his words, “So even trying to love him, you didn’t?”

I nod my head, “I never loved him no matter how hard I tried. That wasn’t enough for him.”

There’s a sense of finality to my words, and Daniel chooses not to push the topic any further. He could sense something had happened that I won’t divulge, so he continues his drive. We make small talk, and I mainly let him fill me in on more things I had missed over the two years I didn’t see him in person. He tells me stories about his time with McLaren and getting to know his young teammate, his break in Montana, how he spent his isolation in Bahrain. The emotions surrounding the reminder of my dad ease as he laughs at his own story, and I’m hit with waves of gratitude for the man sitting next to me. He pulls up to the parking lot of MacDonald’s, face suddenly serious as I start to sling my bag over my shoulder.

“You’ll call me if anything happens or if you need a ride home, yeah?”

My heart tugs at his use of the word home, and my chest goes warm at his sincere look. I nod my head, promising him I’ll call or text him later about how and if I’m coming home. I step out of the car, ready to shut the door.

“Thank you,” I say suddenly, catching myself off guard with my sudden admission. “For the ride and for the compliment earlier. I didn’t say thank you when you came into my room.”

He smiles softly, “You’re welcome, Cal. I meant what I said. You look good tonight.”

I blush at his words, eyes cast to the ground to avoid the sudden intensity of his gaze.

“Now, go get your posh man,” he grins with a laugh, poorly impersonating a British accent. “Show him what it’s like to be with a Sheila.”

I laugh at his use of the Australian slang, thanking him once again before shutting the door and heading inside. He waits to pull away from the bar until I’m out of sight. The bar hasn’t changed much since I was last here. It was with Mum, Dad and Jack right after we found out Dad’s diagnosis. We still had hope, so we came down to Madfish for the day, opting to stay at the beloved beach home for the night before making our way back to Perth. The four of us drank at MacDonald’s—it was our last trip before we got the news of just how bad it was going to be. The place is exactly as I remembered it, and I sit at the bar before texting Theo that I’m here. It’s 10 minutes before he answers that he’s on his way and 20 minutes before he busts through the doors of the pub. I hold back laughter when I see him in his suit—Daniel was right.

Theo greets me with a brief hug, arm wrapping around my shoulder, and he sits next to me on one of the barstools. I catch how he glances around the place with his lips downturned, judging the older rock music and pinball machine in the corner. He makes a comment about no wine being served, and I hold my tongue as he looks through the draft list. He eventually settles on a glass of what I’m having, but he barely sips it before asking me about the place and the rest of my day.

Conversation is stilted with Theo talking mostly about himself and his corporate job. It’s not long before I officially decide the date is a bust, but I nod along to be polite and I ask questions for more detail where appropriate. I’ve downed my third beer before he asks me a question about myself.

“That’s why I’m in town right now. Why are you here in the winter?”

I take a swig of my beer, noting the warmth buzzing in my toes, “I used to come all the time as a kid. My best friend and I have been having a tough time as of late, so we decided we needed a break.”

“Work been tough?” he asks, fingers holding his glass without taking a sip.

“For him, it has been,” I answer honestly. “Mine is life-related.”

He finally takes a sip of his drink, but he makes a face as he does, “Oh, I understand you there. The business has been getting so crazy over in Melbourne, and we’re talking about relocating to a new building which means I’ll have to move to get an apartment closer for the commute. I have no time for a social or personal life.”

“My dad died last year,” I say suddenly, bluntly, with my eyes staring ahead past the bartender’s head.

Perhaps it was the moment in the kitchen. Maybe it was the reminder of the last time I was in this bar. Whatever it is—my time around Daniel, my time in the house, my time around reminders of Dad—it breaks loose from me.

Theo is at a loss for words, looking awkwardly at his drink before he answers, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was cancer,” I continue, feeling the overwhelming urge to talk about him after holding it in since my mum first called me with the news. “He was only 58.”

The floodgates are broken, and I start dumping things that have been buried so deeply, I don’t even realize they’re coming out of my mouth. I blame the alcohol. It probably doesn’t matter to the man sitting next to me. Even when the conversation steers away from my dad, something will come up that reminds me of him, and it’s like we’re going in circles. His phone starts ringing, and he apologizes half-heartedly as he steps outside of the crowded bar to answer it. Minutes pass, and I glance over my shoulder to look for him as his beer sits on the counter next to me. It’s nearly full. I don’t catch a glimpse of him, and after another ten minutes with no sign of him, I officially accept I’ve scared him off with my baggage. I take his beer in repayment, taking a long drink of the beer to bury the embarrassment festering in my stomach. I’m reaching for my phone before I realize it.

“Cal? Are you okay?”

“Daniel, can you come get me?” I ask, fighting the tears welling in my eyes as my voice cracks.

“I’m going to kill him,” I can hear him moving on the other end. “What did he do?”

“He left without saying anything,” the tears start now, and I take a shaky breath. “He said he was getting a call and never came back. Please can you just come get me? I don’t want to sit here alone and look pathetic.”

“I’m on my way,” he says, car dinging in the background and engine turning over. “He just left?”

“I started talking about Dad,” I whisper, voice aching as my lips quiver.

“Cal,” his voice is gentle, devoid of any of his previous anger or typical humor.

“Please, just come get me,” I wipe my eyes. “I want to go home.”

“I’m coming as fast as I can, Apples,” his tone is sincere. “I’m only ten minutes away.”

The house is at least 25 minutes away from MacDonald’s. He never left?

“You didn’t go home?”

He hesitates, and I catch him clearly as he does, “I stayed in town in case you needed me. I’m parked just outside of Gulliver’s.”

More tears well in my eyes, but it’s from his admittance to waiting in case I needed him. He sat outside the bookstore Dad used to take us to as kids. Michael and Jack never wanted to go, and I’m not even sure Daniel wanted to be there, but he never told me no. We’d dig through stacks of books until Dad made us leave. He’d always let us get one. Sometimes Daniel would pick one I wanted so I left with two books—he’d slip it into my room when I wasn’t around.

“Thank you, Daniel,” my voice is wavering now as tears make their way down my cheeks.

He promises to be here soon when I hang up, and I down the rest of my drink in his absence. I wipe my eyes to keep from too many people in the bar staring at me. I stare at the wall beyond the counter, looking at the pictures plastering the walls along with license plates and signs and neon lights. There’s pictures of rugby stars, football stars, soccer stars and even racing stars. There’s a picture of Senna hoisting his trophy from Adelaide—a picture that I recognized from Daniel’s room from when we were young. There’s one of Daniel near him. Canada 2014 with his trophy held high over his head. A Springsteen song starts playing over the radio, and if I close my eyes, I can hear Dad singing along to the raspy vocals. There’s a commotion near the door toward the end of the song as people are suddenly laughing and a couple of claps arise. I turn toward the door to see Daniel, laughing along with the bouncer and some of the seemingly regulars flocking around the entrance. He shakes hands with some of them as they clap him on the back, and I can see the smiles beaming on all their faces as they talk to him about the season and to keep pushing. When he looks up to the counter, his smile grows as our eyes meet. He finishes his conversation, eyes barely leaving mine, before he makes his way toward me leaning against the counter.

“You came,” I say, eyes wide in what must look like adoration.

He stands before me, smiling with a soft gaze. Brown eyes suck me in beneath the dim light of the bar. His thick flannel hands loosely from his shoulders as he sticks his hands in his pockets.

“You called,” he answers as if it were obvious he was waiting for me.

I’m staring. I can feel myself staring, and it’s so bloody obvious, but he does it right back. He breaks his gaze to sit at the bar next to me, and I follow his every move before spinning back toward my empty glass. There’s a silence as he takes in my appearance—glassy eyes and remnants of smeared mascara. I order another beer from the bartender who takes away my empty glass.

“You’re on the wall,” I say to break the silence, sipping from the fresh draft. “Your win in Canada.”

He looks to where I’m pointing, squinting before laughing softly at the image of younger him, “You know, I remember how mad you were because you weren’t there. On the phone, you’d go from yelling about how mad you were that you missed it to crying because you were proud of me.”

“Dad and I stayed up for that race. It was 3 a.m., but we stayed up to watch it together,” I start as the memory takes over. “Jack woke up from our screaming when you took second and came to join us. We all watched as you won, and Mum woke up to see the podium celebration.”

“You called me only a few hours after the race. Did you sleep at all?” he grins as I share the memory with him.

I shake my head, “How could I? I was itching to call you, but I didn’t want to do it too soon and bother you with all the post-race celebrations and media things.”

“You’re never bothering me, Cal,” he says, voice more serious than before. “Not then, and not now.”

“I was your childhood best friend back home, Dan,” I shrug my shoulders. “I’m sure I wasn’t the first person you wanted to talk to.”

He starts to form an answer, lips parting to speak, but I’ve moved the conversation on to avoid dwelling on when I had a hopeless crush on the driver. I point a finger near his picture on the wall again, focusing my unsteady hand on the other driver on the wall.

“You’re near Senna. It’s from Adelaide,” I say, feeling my words starting to slur.

He follows my shaky finger, pride swelling in his chest at my recognizing the picture. He remembers telling me about the race when I asked him about the picture on his wall. His favorite racer was immortalized on his walls and shelves, and he used to tell me about how great he was. Daniel was just old enough to remember, and I was too young to have watched the iconic driver. He laughs quietly as glowing pride spreads warmth across his body.

“You remember?” he asks quietly, elbow bumping mine on the counter.

“You loved him. How could I forget?”

I turn away from the picture to catch a glimpse of him, but he’s staring at my face already. Our eyes meet, and I’m not sure how long we sit in our silent gaze. His skin looks even darker in the dim light of the bar, freckles and moles barely visible across his cheeks and neck. Black curls and brown eyes reflect the neon lights on the opposite wall.

He laughs quietly, “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“No,” I nod my head insteads of shaking, indicating my intoxicated state.

He laughs even louder now, tipping back in his seat with his hand on my arm, “Oh my god, Callie, you’re definitely drunk. You're squinting when you look at me.”

“Can you blame me?” I scoff, trying to keep my eyes wider as they were falling shut. “I come on a date for the first time in months, bring up my dead dad, and then he leaves without saying anything. I think I’m allowed to be drunk.”

Daniel shifts in his seat at the mention of Dad, letting my words hang for a moment, “Do you want to talk about him?”

“Not yet,” I shake my head, hand resting on his over my arm with a gentle squeeze. “I can’t talk about him without crying.”

“It’d probably be good to get some of it out, and-”

“Daniel,” I whisper, the alcohol taking full effect as tears fill my eyes again.

His heart splinters as my lips quiver and voice cracks, and he twists his hand to squeeze mine. We look at each other, ignoring the people in the bar and the cheers of mate, there’s a driver here. His smile falters, and he nods his head gently.

“When you’re ready, Apples,” he whispers.

We sit in the bar for another drink as we reminisce on childhood and teenage memories in Madfish. Daniel orders two beers, one for me and one for him, and I argue with him as he replaces my card on the tab with his. My brain is growing fuzzy as I stumble over my words, and the nostalgia as we share memories has me suddenly feeling choked. Daniel laughs at me as tears threaten at my lashes again, and his laughter continues as he hugs me gently with my head on his shoulder as I sniffle. I hear him tell the bartender to close the tab, promising he’s giving me no more to drink. His glass is half full still. Daniel pulls me from my barstool, leading me out of the bar and bidding goodbye to the men near the exit as they cheer for him again. They cheer when I start clapping, and Daniel can’t help his contagious laughter as he guides me through the doors and into his car. He laughs as I sing along to the older rock songs coming through the stereo as he drives home, waving my hands and pretending to sing into a microphone. The alcohol starts to pull me toward drowsiness, and Daniel is holding back laughter as my singing morphs to light snoring with my head pressed toward the window. He wakes me up once we’ve arrived home, laughing at my confused demeanor.

“C’mon, let’s get you in,” he says, pulling me from the leather seat.

The living room and kitchen are dark, and Daniel grabs two water bottles from the fridge before following me up the wooden stairs. My purse is slung across his shoulder, and he’s making sure I don’t stumble on any of the steps as my feet clumsily climb. He follows me toward my room, and he leaves the purse on my desk. He notices the picture frames turned over, and he glances at one of my dad and I before placing it back how he found it. He frowns, but I don’t catch it as I flop on to my bed.

“Cal, you need to take your contacts out,” he says gently, nudging me with his knee as I lay sprawled on the bed. “And you need to at least get your makeup off. You’ll kill me in the morning if I don’t make you do it tonight.”

I groan as he knocks his knee into mine, “But then I can’t see you very well, and I have to get up.”

“I’ll give you your glasses,” he chuckles quietly at my reasoning. “C’mon, let’s go to the bathroom.”

He tugs my arm to pull me into a sitting position on the bed despite my protest, and he drags me toward the bathroom in between our rooms. I slide up onto the bathroom counter, laughing as I slip into the sink basin and Daniel pulls me out as my legs fail. He laughs as he looks through the cabinet, searching for a wash cloth and my makeup remover. He sets them on the counter before looking toward me.

“Alright, contacts. Get’em out,” he says, reaching for my case and solution.

“Will you do it?” I whine, eyes falling shut as I tip my head back. “Just like after the beach bonfire with Liam and Alyssa, remember? After you kissed me for the first time?”

He’s silent for a second, but my drunken brain doesn’t catch his hesitation before he chuckles quietly, “Yes, I remember, Cal. How could I forget? You were so nervous you were grabbing my shirt. Open your eyes for me.”

“Well, sorry that I didn’t know what to do,” I huff, keeping my head tipped back as his fingertip gently pulls at my eyelid. “I had never been kissed before, and then Jack walked by and I thought he was going to kill us.”

He laughs at the memory, fingers gentle against my face before dropping the lens into the case. He gets to work on my other eye as he answers, “I still can’t believe he didn’t see that. I was planning some kind of excuse. Do you need me to take your makeup off, too?”

I nod, “Put some water on my face, but not too much or I’ll get cold. Then, take some of the product out and rub it between your fingers. It’ll take all my makeup off.”

He laughs gently as I stumble through the directions and my side comments, but he dutifully follows my drunken instructions. His fingers work circles on my skin, rubbing away the makeup from the night, and I giggle as he gingerly rubs my eyes and lashes.

“What’s so funny, Apples?” he asks as I hiccup.

“You’re being so careful,” I answer, sighing contently as he wipes my face with a warm washcloth. “When we were kids you used to drag me around on a skateboard or send me out on a motorbike.”

“Well, that’s when we were kids,” he answers with a soft smile, and my eyes open to meet his once he’s finished washing my face for me. “We’re adults now.”

Our gaze lingers, and even through my drunken haze, I’m aware of his eyes sucking me in. I finally register just how close we are with the front of his thighs brushing my knees, and I’m entirely distracted by the freckles and moles across his face and neck. He rests a finger on my cheek, wiping away a stray eyelash, and my breath hitches at his touch.

“Do you want to take a shower?” he asks quietly. “I can start it for you. You’re shivering, Cal.”

I look down at my arms covered in goosebumps, and his hands rub up and down on my biceps. I nod my head, but the movement sends me spinning and I start to slip off the sink. Daniel catches me suddenly, and a groaned whoa slips past his lips as I tip forward. He keeps me from crashing to the ground, but I send my bottle of solution clattering to the ground. Daniel laughs, “Can you take a shower by yourself?”

“Yes,” I nod my head, trying to act more sober as I straighten up before him. “I’m cold. I want to be warm, so I need to shower.”

He continues laughing at my strung together answer, trying to follow my drunken logic, “Alright. How about I sit in your room in case you need anything? Deal?”

I agree with him, and he starts a warm shower before he shuts the door behind him. It takes me a minute to get the button on my pants, and Daniel can hear me cursing the zipper on the other side of the door. I finally get into the warm stream, grateful for the temperature to ease the chills across my body. In my drunken state, I send bottles crashing to the floor, and yell out an apology to Daniel in the other room. He laughs in response before asking if I’m okay. Once I’m finally done despite the chills still racking my body, I turn off the water and reach for a towel off the hook. My fingers miss, but when I pull the curtain back to look, there’s no towel. My whole body is shivering as I call out for Daniel.

“What’s wrong?” he asks from the other side of the door.

“Can you get me a towel?” he can hear the shake in my voice as I shiver. “There’s none in here, and I’m still really cold.”

It’s not long before the doorknob twists, and Daniel is gingerly stepping into the bathroom. I’m hidden behind the curtain, head poking around the edge, and Daniel’s eyes are cast down as he reaches his hand out with a towel. I thank him as I take from his hand, and he waits for me to wrap it around my body and open the curtain before his eyes dare to look up from the ground. His eyes are wide and his mouth ajar as he watches me. My drunken brain doesn’t process his stare as he takes in my appearance—damp skin tinged pink from the heat of the shower, and water droplets sliding down my arms from my hair. Daniel snaps out of it when he sees my visible shaking and goosebumps pimpling my skin. He steps back toward the bedroom before reappearing with folded sweats and a sweatshirt and setting them on the counter.

“For you to wear,” he motions toward the teal set on the counter. “I wore these in Montana. I can confirm they’re warm. And I brought you your glasses.”

I thank him for the clothing and my glasses, still mulling over how they’re his as he shuts the door. The fabric is soft against my skin, and I relish in the oversized fit. When I open the door, wet hair falling onto my shoulder, Daniel is sitting on my bed.

“Warmer?” he flashes his lopsided grin, and I nod my head, “Thank you, Danny.”

He smiles softly, ears turning pink, “You haven’t called me Danny in a long time.”

“I’m drunk,” I wave my hands as I flop onto the bed next to him. “It’s a force of habit.”

“It’s cute,” he whispers quietly, pulling a fleece blanket over me as my shivering continues.

I thank him as he tucks the blanket beneath my chin, and as I’m about to say something, I pop up from my lying position as my head starts spinning. Daniel’s eyes are wide as he asks what’s wrong, and when I answer that the room is spinning, he starts to prop pillows against the headboard so I’m not laying flat. He fluffs them before I lean back into them, and he laughs when I pull the blanket tighter beneath my chin. He watches me for a moment as my shaking continues.

“Still cold?” he asks, trying not to laugh at the image before him.

I nod my head as I whine, “So cold. This is your fault, so you have to fix it.”

“My fault?” he scoffs.

“Yes,” I whine, “you let me keep drinking.”

“Fine,” he sighs in defeat, unable to fight against my drunken logic any longer. “Scoot over and give me your glasses before you fall asleep with them on.”

“Oh my goodness,” I draw as he nudges me over, pulling another blanket over the two of us after setting my glasses on the table. “Are we going to cuddle?”

He laughs loudly, “You’re so going to kill me when you remember this in the morning. Yes, we’re going to cuddle, Cal. You’re always telling me I’m like a human heater, and you’re making me a little nervous right now.”

“Is it because we’re so close?” I ask, cheek resting against the thick flannel covering his arm.

He laughs, “No, because you’re so drunk you’re this cold, but we can pretend it’s because we’re close. Would that make you happy?”

“Incredibly,” I sigh, eyes feeling heavy as his body heat radiates through this thick flannel jacket and my fleece blanket.

He adjusts so that his arm is wrapped around my shoulders, and my cheek brushes against his chest. We’re quiet as I settle in, shivering starting to ebb as he radiates warmth. The ease that spreads through my veins is comforting, and I relax into his side as my eyes continue to grow heavy.

“Danny?”

“Hmm?” he hums quietly, looking down to where my eyes are shut and cheek pressed against his chest.

“Do you think my dad would be happy right now?” I whisper. “Happy that we’re here?”

“He would,” he answers without hesitation. “He’d be happy we’re here. He’d be happy you’re here, Cal.”

“Do you think he’s happy we made up?” my voice is raspy now, barely audible as my eyelashes weigh heavy.

He hesitates this time as I lean in closer toward him, my leg pressing to the side of his, “I think he’s happy, Cal.”

“I’m happy,” I whisper, tipping on the edge of falling asleep. “I missed you, Dan.”

His arm around my shoulders squeezes me in toward him, enveloping me with more warmth and an overwhelming sense of comfort, “I missed you, too, Apples.”

“Dan?” I whisper despite the sleep tugging at me. “Are you staying?”

He stretches his legs out in front of him, tugging at the blanket as he leans back further into the pillows, “Do you want me to?”

“Don’t want you to go, yet,” I mumble, yawning in the middle of my sentence. “You’re warm and comfy.”

“Then I’m staying, Cal,” he says quietly, his gentle laughter vibrating in his chest. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

“Thank you for taking care of me and letting me talk about Dad how I wanted,” tears start to well in my eyes from the alcohol still pumping through my veins. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“You’re my best friend,” he says quietly, a yawn breaking through his words now. “Now go to sleep, you drunkard.”

It’s not long after his comment before my breath goes heavy, indicative of sleep, and my body rests against his side as dead weight. Daniel isn’t far behind in falling asleep, curls fanning out around him as his head tips backward on to my pillows. I stay tucked against his side, and his arm curls tighter around me. My dreams are haunted by memories of childhood—the crossroads of Dad and Daniel.

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vro0m · 7 days

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He kind of came into the weekend pessimistic didn’t he (as much as his pr training allowed anyways), great sprint but the grid was neutralized. He didn’t touch the setup in Suzuka and he was okay but has Lewis ever been one to fight for p8/9? idk? it’s a bit odd isn’t it cuz same suzuka last year he was scrambling with george for what p7? idk? Maybe his garage is just shit? if he himself is just shit he sure doesn’t look it in his post interviews and Lewis is not very good at hiding his emotions (this isnt me policing his emotions btw). So maybe the setup is the problem as he says and he’s going extreme. Will he then stop since they’ve all been failures? I doubt lol he may feel like he owes it to the team to find the setup of the car that propels them to the front. Alonso (tho imo not in good faith) said Lewis only knows how to drive from the front, not that it’s true but they’re currently at the back and maybe he’s seeing it as an opportunity to throw anything at the wall and hope it sticks. He prolly feels like he has nothing to lose anyways except the millions of articles and think pieces as we’re doing now lol. Maybe we’ll see a change when he’s finally out of the engineering room. I’m trying and failing to be optimistic.

I don't know if he did. It was clear from the start they weren't gonna be any miracles on this track despite what happened with the sprint (which wasn't a miracle : rainy qualis can go crazy but they don't make a result by themselves + without Alonso he probably wouldn't have finished in P2). I don't think his garage is shit, that's what frustrates me. They are good. They can and should do better.

There's many understandable reasons to his actions, regarding the setup or otherwise like. I get it. The current situation is unacceptable and he's trying literally everything to get himself out of this hole. I've told everyone to be patient before drawing conclusions. I'm trying to do the same thing. But I'm starting to believe this isn't the way. Throwing everything at the wall to see what sticks Isn't. Working. I don't understand what it is he's hoping to find pushing the setup this way. He's not gonna produce 0.5 of pace out of thin air. Which is why I'm wondering if the issue really is him taking the setup too far or if it's not that the setup is particularly extreme but that he can't make it work either way, you know?

#vro0m's asks

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wow-cool-robot · 11 months

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i'm still enjoying it, but i finally put my finger on 2 things that have been bugging me about this show. first: this is a show that does not care about logistics. it acts like it does, it has communications as plot points, and you see the ways mobile suits get around minovsky particles to communicate long distance with flares coming out of the finger, but it's so much less concerned with logistics than 0079 was. in 0079, in the first 2 episodes char loses 3 zakus. this is a big deal, and episode 3 is entirely dedicated to him restocking, while he gets chewed out for losing them and needs to prove the gundam is just that powerful. jerid's lost 5 mobile suits personally and they keep giving him new ones. it doesn't feel like the individual mobile suits represent many hours of labor, lots of expensive materials, and the cost of transporting them to the frontlines in the way it almost always did in 0079. there were a few exceptions, that one mobile armor char's crew sends out without telling him that he's just very confused by comes to mind, but mostly it stayed true to that.

in 0079 the first new mobile suit after the first episode is the gouf, which ramba ral has in episode 12. that upgrade is because he's being tasked by zeon high command with an important mission, and they know he'll need a more powerful mobile suit than the zakus that have failed so far. it's explicit that zeon is just throwing shit at the wall to see what sticks with the mobile armors introduced in seemingly every episode in the back half, because they're in a bad position and need to get out of it. on the federation side there are 3, but all 3 are prototypes where they're trying to figure out what works. so when this show is at the same point and has introduced at least 2 mass produced suits for both sides, as well as like 4 or 5 other suits that aren't even the gundam, it feels so much messier. and when jerid can just keep breaking mobile suits with no results as a new recruit who's never accomplished anything it makes it feel like they don't matter and the titans are just completely incompetent. despite aesthetically being so much more hard scifi gritty war story, it's actually worse at that than 0079.

this was kind of stream of consciousness, but i hope that made sense. and i don't want to make it sound like i hate the show or anything, i just think the show aesthetically went one direction but the actual content went another. this show feels focused a lot more on kamille than 0079 did with amuro, and i really like it. the show just seems out of sync with itself, and i think that's partially because the showrunners aren't used to the kinds of demands placed on them here by bandai, so i hope they can start to tell better stories while still introducing more mobile suits. and the mobile suits are very good, as is the action generally. this might also just be something i get used to as time goes on, we’ll see

#gundam liveblog #zeta

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kpopjust4u · 2 years

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Life changing situations (Part 2)

If you haven’t yet read part 1, please read it, HERE.

Post Date: 19th September 2022 Content: Angst - EXO Baekhyun x Reader x EXO Chanyeol (Mentions) WC: 2.3K TW?: Fuck Boy! x Mafia! Baekhyun/ Pregnant Reader/ Mentions of Abuse/ Mention of Violence/ Controlling/ Belittling Request?: Yes

Masterlist Prompt list

The threat of losing your own life, but your unborn child’s also, gives you no other option other than to do as Baekhyun says. Well... More like orders. That’s all he’s done since you’ve essentially become part of his furniture. It was like you weren’t even a human being at this point with the way he just orders you about, screams in your face and forgets about you until he needs a release. Even then, you’d refuse to open your legs back up for him despite his orders to, often receiving a harsh, stinging slap across your face.

“You were happy enough to open those whore legs of yours for me once,” he hisses, standing tall over you as you gulped, but sticking your ground no matter what the consequences were.

“That was before you knocked me up!” the sarcastic reply you give him should’ve been enough for him to throw more abuse at you, but all he does is walk away, slamming his office door in your face.

You drop against the wall, back sliding down it as your knees are brought up to your chest, as much as you possibly could with the bump that was slowly growing, making it merely impossible for you to do much these days. Looking down at your bump, you caress it lightly and tears prick at the corners of your eyes, making them sting as you whisper to yourself, hoping that the little life growing inside of you hears your gentle words.

“I promise little one, we’ll get out of here safe. You’ll never have to know what a piece of shit your father is, it’ll just be us, forever,” the tears fall down your face, too busy talking to your new reason for life to hear the sound of the door creaking open behind you.

Baekhyun looks down at you pathetically, arms crossed as a stinking smirk crawls onto his face, “Just you two forever, huh? Let’s see how that works out for you, don’t forget. Never forget, Y/N. You’re mine,” he mockingly coos at you, kneeling down at your level to pinch your chin to force him to look at you.

You were his, huh? What about the multiple people women he’s been sneaking around with, despite having a woman who’s pregnant with his child? It was like you were just an incubator for the heir of his business, not that he cared much for the fetus with the multiple threats he’s made to rid of its existence every time you challenged him.

Stiffening your upper lip, you get to your feet, facing the man who’s caused you nothing but pain. At that moment, you wanted to reach into his pocket to grab the gun and run for your life, but where would that take you? Though you thought it would be impossible, he’d eventually hunt you down.

Just before he returns to his office, his hand flies up and you flinch at the sight of it, cowering behind your arms as a laugh falls from his lips. “Just so you know, I have to go to this charity event in the week, and you’re my plus one. You better, and I mean you better, behave. You got me?”. The tone of his voice with each word made you shiver.

A public event? Showing up on his arm, four months pregnant? What could possibly go wrong? The sound of it was enough to make you heave, but you composed yourself before you embarrassed yourself in front of him, unwillingly nodding before scurrying to your room.

Once the door was closed, you threw yourself onto your bed, sobbing with tears as you beat your pillows with your fist. Any hope that you had of being able to escape from his control, alive, was stripped away from you. The minute the other mafia boss’ and their gangs notice you with Baekhyun, you know you were going to be labelled by his name, and it made you want to throw up.

The day comes when you’re forced into a tight-fitting dress that delicately outlines your bump, it was like Baekhyun’s plan to do so. “Never forget, Y/N. You’re mine” repeats in your head as you stared at yourself in the mirror, tears fighting to fall but you refuse to let them. “Behave...” you whisper to yourself, “Behave and you both live”.

The loud bang on the door makes you jump out of your skin, Baekhyun invites himself into the room without an indication for him to do so. He leans against the door frame, arms crossed his chest as his eyes look at you, head-to-toe. A small, sadistic smirk makes its way onto his face as he reaches his hand out for you to take, “The car is waiting, let’s go”.

What was that about behaving? It completely slips your mind as you look at his hand in disgust before pushing past him, storming away from him and to the front door. One of his men goes to grab you but a flick of Baekhyn’s hand commands them to let you be. It was safer to just let you have this moment, after all, you were being forced to go against your will. He had to be some form of lenient about it.

The sick feeling you had all throughout the car ride just increased, and you were sure you were about to pass out in the back of the car. It would be better than having to go into the building, linking arms with him. The car ride felt like it went on for hours, giving you plenty of time to dwell on your life at the moment, to question everything and mainly to regret ever meeting Baekhyun. The man who tricked you, the one who seemed awfully too nice to be true and that’s how it ended up being.

Just before you could even climb out of the car, Baekhyun grabs your arm, pulling you close to him, voice dark as he threatens you with his eyes, “Behave, Y/N. You’re here to make me look good. Don’t mess that up, or you’ll regret it when that thing growing inside of you exists no longer”.

At his touch and his words, you freeze up with your hand resting on your bump. For a moment, you felt as though you had died right there and then, clutching onto the only thing that was giving you hope for a better life. Luckily, this time, he didn’t need you to reply to him, leaving go of his grip on your arm, forcing a soft smile as he caresses your cheek gently with his hands, “You look beautiful, by the way”.

He was insane. Better yet, psycho. You were going to a charity event with a psychopath. You were going to have a psychopath’s child. These thoughts rushed through your brain the minute you could even let yourself breathe, trying to get out of the car without embarrassing him there and then with the other mafia boss’ watching the car from outside of the venue.

There was one who caught you off guard, taking your breath away from you the minute you laid eyes on him. The tall gentleman towered over the rest of the mafia bosses’, even Baekhyun who you thought was tall. The gentleman’s hair was dark brown, pushed back a little and dressed in a dark navy suit, a little different to the typical mafia boss attire.

Another boss broke your attention away from the handsome gentleman who flashed you a small smile. “So who’s this lovely young lady on your arm, Baekhyun?” he asked, and you were so focused on the tall one, you didn’t even realise Baekhyun had linked your arm around his.

“This is my adoring girlfriend, Y/N. She’s a looker ain’t she?” Baekhyun scoffs with glee, but the false titling of ‘girlfriend’ made you sick in your mouth a little, forcing a smile on your face as you glared at Baekhyun.

“Let’s have a good day, shall we?” another boss asked, opening the doors for you both to walk through. But all you could feel was all the eyes on you, and your bump, hearing the men whispering behind you as you walked through, “What’s the bet that’s the 100th girl he’s gotten pregnant?”.

The place was huge, people from the other mafia groups filled the room, talking and putting in donations to their desired charities. How could a group of criminals be so caring to even put a penny towards any of these charities? You’ve always thought they were heartless assholes who didn’t care for anyone but their own, but the shocking amount of money that was getting deposited towards each one took you by surprise.

Then you came across the table for donations towards women’s health care, which you fully understood was severely underfunded and mostly forgotten about. Not to any surprise at all, there were barely any donations made towards it and you didn’t have to ask why. Your situation with Baekhyun was evidence enough as to why they’d completely disregard that.

Talking of Baekhyun, he was no longer linked on your arm, nor was he anywhere to be seen. You wondered if there was any chance you could make a deal with him, donate to this charity and you’d forever do as he says. But that would be pushing your luck a little too much for someone who knows nothing but himself and his needs.

Whilst unwillingly trying to find the man who brought you here in the first place, you bump into the gentleman from outside, cursing to yourself at first not realising who it was. Once you looked up at the man who towered over you, apologies came flying out of your mouth, knowing that you’ve probably messed up big time.

“Oh, I’m so, so sorry, sir!” You whimper as you shyly take a step back as if to run for safety if needs be. Though when you find yourself standing there in front of him, captured by his charming smile, you couldn’t move.

“No need to be sorry, are you okay? I didn’t hurt your bump did I?” his voice was soft, a little deep and raspy but it was so attractive. You almost forget what he asks you, getting lost in those dark eyes of his.

Looking down briefly, gently caressing your bump, you shake your head in reply and completely ignore the pain in your right side as you try to straighten yourself up, “I’m not hurt, we’re not hurt. Thank you”.

“Could I offer you a drink? Non-alcoholic, of course,” at this moment and time, you could use a stiff drink, however you decline his offer anyway despite how nice he was, it could be another trap. Just like Baekhyun was the night he knocked you up.

“Whats-” you go to ask him about his name, but get interrupted by the loud, familiar voice getting extremely close to you, grabbing at your waist and a low growl escapes his lips, “Chanyeol”.

Baekhyun appears next to you, holding a drink out for you to take from him, “Here you go, darling”. Again, you thought you could’ve thrown up all over him with the fake relationship stuff that he was spurting, the nicknames that made you shiver in disgust.

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol returns what could barely even be a greeting, their eyes closing slightly as they stared each other down. You weren’t sure if this was joking around or if they seriously had something negative going on between them.

Then that was it for the interaction between the both of them before Baekhyun drags you away, practically pushing you ahead of him out of Chanyeol’s sight. For someone who always had something to say, Baekhyun said nothing. Just his eyes focused on Chanyeol who glared right back at him.

You thought it was best to keep quiet, and practically out of sight as you took a seat in the corner of the room, your back aching so bad. Baekhyun stood next to you, a hand firm on your shoulder as he sips from the drink he’d picked up on the way.

A moment goes by and his mood suddenly changes, putting his hand out for you to take, barely giving you a chance to take all your weight off of your feet as you are forced to join him in the midst of the crowd again.

However, due to the number of people trying to swerve between each other, you’re pushed side to side, almost falling straight onto your face as Baekhyun catches you, your drink being forced out of your hand as it falls all over his suit. Not now, not here, please.

Once you managed to balance to your feet, you rush to take the napkin out of his pocket to clean him up, but his hand flies across your face, slapping it so hard that it stung and brings tears to your eyes.

“You stupid bitch! This suit is fucking expensive!” he bellows, yanking the napkin out of your hand as you step back, clasping at your cheek as you fight the tears that make break down your face, “You’re nothing but a useless whore!”.

The whole place stops to a halt, watching everything that’s going on in the middle of the floor between the both of you as you try to stick your ground but fail, your hormones pushing you over the edge as you’re unable to do anything but cry.

“You’re nothing. Nothing!” he screams, forcefully grabbing you as he pulls you out of the venue, throwing you onto the side of the street, “You’re lucky we were surrounded by loaded guns, or I would’ve done worse to you”.

After crashing onto the floor, you cry out in pain, clutching at your bump as you just about manage to sit up on the edge of the curb, unable to look up at him as he storms off. Leaving you behind on the curb, where you’d wished he’d left you back months ago.

Tags: @scuzmunkie, @ateezreactionsandscenarios, @trashlord-007, @fanfictrashlord-007

#kpop #kpop blog #kpop fanfic #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #exo #exo reactions #exo scenarios #exo fanfic #exo imagines #exo imagines baekhyun #baekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun angst

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vanosslirious · 1 year

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BBS Dialogue Prompts #206

BBS Dialogue Prompts & Sentence Starters: [ 9 ]

SMII7Y

Do you want me to read to you?

Shit, I can't read, can you read this?

I never had that card, I was lying about that.

I'm reading a story on the fire.

Why did I hear myself?

Yeah, I ate all the food, that's why we're starving.

You literally almost got us killed.

We're actually nuts!

We just didn't appreciate it.

This has to be it.

I think it's broken, guys, nothing's working.

That was really aggressive.

As I was saying, please cry on my face.

We don't do that here.

You've been rolling with it ever since.

I'll finish him, I guess.

What are y'all talking about, and how do I get involved?

What is this fucking riddle you're throwing at us?

Well, he should've been better with his aim.

You know what, I hope you fucking die after that noise you just made.

NOGLA

I'm hanging tight, and so are all my friends.

That's the first thing you thought of?

My UberEats got fucking robbed.

Don't forget my strawberry milkshake.

If I go, will you open up a Pokémon pack with me?

You call this catering, my friend died!

Who the hell did this?

I shouldn't be laughing so hard, I'm a Christian, this is definitely blasphemy.

I was tired when I typed this.

I was sober for one day!

H2ODELIRIOUS

I have a damn stalker.

Guys, I found a door!

Don't say that!

We cheated, guys.

Don't come in here, guys, don't do it.

What did you just break?

Ah, kiss me!

I’m gonna let it play out.

Don’t bleed all over me.

Yes, go clean.

TERRORISER

It’s always been…

Keep doing that.

I got clubbed to death.

This is not funny by the way.

Let's make this ghost our bitch.

This is where you found me.

I hate your whistling!

When in doubt, get the glow sticks out.

All we heard was screaming in the distance.

One makes me money, the other spends it.

KRYOZ

I think mine's solid, but who's going to know?

Honestly, I like the company.

I don't know if we're actually running out of time, but it feels like it.

You make it sound so easy.

I'm gonna stand right here.

I need this most…you went the wrong way.

Let's be honest, it isn't fun if it's only this thing.

I'm pure positive today.

You guys really fucked that up.

Is that what you meant?

WILDCAT

I don’t think you got me out of there.

I did more as a piece of shit than you can as a real human.

Planting explosions until you guys get here, please hurry.

We’ll save you, just press the button.

You’re lucky to even be alive, what are you talking about?

Hold me and put me in the pod.

You’re so fucking dumb.

I can barely hear myself think, fuck you!

He bled everywhere!

You broke my leg, ow!

BASICALLYIDOWRK

Just die, kid.

We’re just floating.

You didn’t make it.

Why would you bring that mask in your house?

Bro, why is the cat staring at the wall?

I have an irrational fear of bunny rabbits.

I just want you to know, I hate you all.

You better still be there, I swear to God.

What does that mean?

There’s so many things to craft, where’s the little book?

MOO

I didn’t get anything either.

Can we kill these guys?

Just throwing things against the wall.

I feel like I'm in a box of lego's right now.

Okay, we gotta go deeper.

You guys just have to open your big mouths, didn't you?

I didn't know we were starting.

We lived.

This is going to be a long session.

Does this mean you like me, cause you want me in the video?

VANOSSGAMING

Aw, damn, back to this shit.

You went flying.

This is just to get the fucking teleporter open.

Look at him, he’s meditating.

Yes, get him, get him!

That’s the joke?

Who the fuck is this?

We’ll save you!

I just want to see, I don’t have any fucking torches.

What did you find, what did you find, what did you find?

#banana bus squad #bbs #banana bus squad prompts #bbs prompts #smii7y #daithi de nogla #h2odelirious #the terroriser #kryoz #i am wildcat #basicallyidowrk #moo snuckel #vanossgaming #prompts #rpf prompts #sentence starters #tw swearing #text #words

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dragon-heisters · 1 year

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Session 26, 19 Feb 2023: "'Sleep?! You hack! For Godssakes."

We’re on on Sunday this week. Suggested talking points: finding friends asleep in ditches after parties, has Pfenig always been green (yes), now we’re nearing the end of Dragon Heist, the DM is going to start actively trying to kill us. (Hazel: “Well, what have you been doing up to now??”)

This area of the sewers counts as Primary Passage - which is good, because it has walkways and we don’t have to swim.

We are so accustomed to this place now that we no longer have to make Con saves versus throwing up. Hooray…?

The Tiny Overlord is in bed, so Hazel joins us and we’re off to the sewers! As his last act of mercy, the DM offers us a long rest and a shopping trip. We accept. Hazel haggles for potions, bartering them down to 38gp per, then 35 by fluttering her eyelashes at Fala. She is unable to barter the arrows down, however, and pays the full 4gp each for them.

Nuri wants to find a scroll of Magic Mouth. Thessalie has some stuff she wants to sell. Nuri asks Pfenig for the fake stone, saying loudly that he DOESN’T WANT THE REAL ONE. Can any of us think of a message he can make the fake stone say if it gets stolen, to convince the thieves it’s the real one?

“Thank you for stealing the Stone of Golorr. Your attunement is important to us.” We decide to have it say something like “PROVE YOUR WORTHINESS”. That should keep the thief occupied.

Nuri decides on: “PROVE YOUR WORTH! WHAT COMMON WORD HAS THREE CONSECUTIVE DOUBLE LETTERS?”

The trigger will be if someone holds the stone to their face as if examining it. This will happen every time someone does that, until dispelled.

We take long rests, Thessalie pops Aurix out and has him sit on her shoulder, and off we go. We follow the map on the ransom note - it leads north to a little cul de sac. The sewer is not locked, so we open it to a ladder and a familiar stink of sewage. We find ourselves in a small room with the symbol of the plumbers guild is on the wall. There is a door with an open padlock lying on the floor in front of it; Pfenig opens the door convinced it’s a trap.

It’s weirdly clean in the room beyond. The tunnel beyond that is rushing with sewage running out of pipes and into it. It’s about waist deep in the middle, but we’ll only get our feet wet if we stick to the edge. Pfenig goes first and gets hit with a pseudopod!

His armour hisses a bit and his AC goes down.

He Shillfglkfgkfhjjjh’s and hits the Black Pudding with his staff. 20 hits for 8 Bludgeoning damage. It fails the save and takes two necrotic damage.

“It hates you a little bit.”

“I’m comfortable with that.”

It occurs to Nuri that last time we were here and he did fire magic, we all got exploded a bit from all the farts.

(The DM remembers to make Hazel and Pfenig do Dex saves to keep from getting sewer water splashed in their faces as it lands. Hazel fails.)

Nuri does Mind Sliver, deciding against fire for now, and Thessalie Magic Missile; the thing is cracking and starting to show signs of damage. Hazel scampers away, covered in shit, and hides behind a pipe. She rolls an 11 and is not hidden, but she’ll still get sneak attack anyway because it’s in range with Pfenig. She rolls an 8 - it hits! She does 18 damage total.

As her arrow strikes it, it does more cracking damage - but her arrow sinks in and dissolves. ("I just spent four gold pieces on that!")

The pudding has another go at eating Pfenig. 15 - “That’s exactly my new armour class since the last attack!” He loses all his hit points including his favourite one and goes down. It’s his turn now so he makes a death save. 11! Yay!

Nuri makes a Perception check - a 5.

DM: “Never mind!”

Nuri Hexes it and does a point blank Fire Bolt, rolling at Disadvantage. 9 still hits - and there is no explosion. He sets fire to zero farts! Thessalie splashes across the river to see the pudding, grumbling about her boots, and accidentally steps on Pfenig; to make it up to him she uses one of her OWN potions to heal him 5HP. (He owes her a potion now, she tells him, of which fact she will remind him at a later date. On fancy stationery.)

Hazel hides, rolling a 27 and is informed that she is not hidden. A quick nature check tells her that it has Blindsight. Fuck!

A bit of the blob breaks off at her next attack, though, and falls into the water. The pudding makes an attempt to Dash - Nuri gets an Attack of Opportunity if he wants it. Can he give it a bit of distance and then shoot it with a shortbow? Yes, the DM tells him. 9 hits for 9 piercing and 5 fire/necrotic.

It’s looking ropey and another bit sloughs off and hisses into the sewer water.

Pfenig: “Right, revenge flavoured death.” He swigs a healing potion and then administers an Ice Knife, hitting for 22 and doing 6 piercing and 4 cold damage.

The DM has good news and bad - well, two bits of good and one bad. He’ll give Pfenig a shit sandwich. The blob takes the piercing, is immune to cold, how de do dis!

Right, where to now? Nuri investigates the dead body that Pfenig found before the fight. He pokes the body with a stick; the pockets seem empty. There are fewer teeth than fingers, and that doesn’t look recent. Nuri suspects this death was something to do with the gang war in the city. There are no tattoos that Nuri can see; the skin is quite rotten, black and purple, so he might be missing something. Does he want to look closer? He opens the shirt with the stick and peers - nothing he can see. He tries not to throw up in his mouth.

He makes a Perception check while standing there - 11. Never mind. Pfenig barges across the river to a door on the other side and opens it. There’s a guard there, but he says nothing as Pfenig enters.

We all follow, Thessalie complaining about having to clean her boots again. The guard, a dwarf, once we’re all in the room, stands aside from another door further in and tells us the rest are waiting for us.

“Where’s Jodd?” Pfenig demands of the individuals in the next room.

“Did you bring the Stone?”

“Where’s Jodd?” Nuri and Pfenig refuse to hand anything over until we have proof of life. Nuri takes the (fake!) Stone out of his pocket, (without cackling), and holds it up.

“We give you this and you, what, tell us where he is?”

“Leave the Stone on the crate and leave the room. We’ll take a look at it and call you back in.”

Hazel makes an Insight check to see if the thug is telling the truth about Jodd being alive. She thinks he is. We reluctantly slink out.

Back in the first room, we hear Nuri’s message go off through the door. It opens again after about a minute.

“Oi.”

We go back in; they know it’s not the real Stone. We feign ignorance; looks like we’ve all been taken for suckers. The dwarf doesn’t like being dicked around. Look, we gave you the Stone, now give us Jodd! That’s the only Stone we got!

The dwarf doesn’t believe us. He’s got his orders. He’s happy to kill us and take it off our dead bodies.

Thessalie: “Alright, let’s see how that goes.”

“Alright then.” We roll Initiative, as Pfenig reminds himself never to try and order Thessalie around.

The lead thug approaches Thessalie with a nasty grin and calling her 'sweetheart' - he hits her for a lot and gets Hellish Rebuked in return. Pfenig uses his Symbiotic Entity, and then casts Shilsfgljsfglkfhjh.

Hazel stabs him with her rapier. “Fuck you. Sweetheart.”

Thessalie casts Shatter on the backup thugs, three of the four fail and take 8 damage. She takes a potion for her bonus action. One shoots at Hazel, who failed to hide, and nat20’s her for 11 damage.

Nuri Scorching Ray’s the captain and two of the thugs, killing one and burning his shadow onto the wall. He kills the other thug too, burning his shadow on top of the other one. He blows on his finger guns and holsters them.

A remaining thug shoots him. Nuri: “I refuse.” 15 hits him good though, and he takes a cheeky little five piercing damage.

The guard comes in and pokes Nuri with his scimitar - but not before making a Con save. He fails and takes 6 points of gross from Pfenig in his lungs.

Aurix stings the captain and then flies out of reach, poisoning him. Disadvantage on ability checks and attacks for an hour, yeah!

He hits at Thessalie but misses, then at Nuri and misses again, then at Pfenig but hits. (This is definitely racially motivated, Pfenig and Nuri decide.)

It’s Pfenig’s turn, and the captain takes one portion of Shilleksfglhjh right up his gusset - and Pfenig swings at Advantage as Thessalie is within range. 19 hits for 11 damage.

Hazel hides, and these fucks don’t have Blindsight so she’s hidden, yay! She shoots a thug and thinks that ten misses - but it doesn’t. 12 damage and how de do dis!

“Ohhh, he falls down.”

Thessalie Battering Ram’s the captain for 18 damage, pushing him into the opposite wall. “Don’t call me Sweetheart.”

A thug shoots at Thessalie but she Shields and he misses.

Nuri casts Infestation - the guard fails and is Covered in Bees!

It’s the guard’s turn, so he pokes Nuri in the pudding for 4 damage.

“Ah, why?”

“Because you covered him in bees!”

Aurix bites at the captain but misses and flies away looking sheepish.

The captain makes more attacks - still at Disadvantage from Aurix’s poison. He misses all of us!

Pfenig’s turn. He will bop the captain on the head with his Shkdlfsgkdfhljh, “In a non-lethal fashion.” The captain parries, making the attack miss. Pfenig reaction-poisons him a bit. Captain fails the save and take 5 Spore damage.

Hazel does a little stabby-stabby with her rapier against the guard. 11 hits the guard and gets the how de do dis! “He is stabbed with the rapier and he gets all stabby and bleedy and he falls down. He’s very sorry for what he did.”

Thessalie non-lethally Fire Bolts the captain, who goes down. Yeah. She brushes some dust off her sleeves and sniffs disdainfully.

The last remaining thug shoots at Thessalie and misses; “I should stop while you’re behind if I were you, darling.”

A purple haze appears in the room, along with another man who’s been hiding in here the whole time!!!

Magical Ambush…

He casts Sleep, taking Aurix and Thessalie out right away.

It’s Nuri’s turn. He approaches the newcomer and Burning Handses him.

DM: “That’s rude.”

Nuri, with disgust at the mage: “‘Sleep’?! You hack! For godssakes.”

Pfenig turns his attention to the remaining thug and Shslfgdkfhjhs him and gets the how de do dis! “And stay down!” The floor is stone so instead of hammering him into the ground like a tent peg he hammers the dwarf’s head into his neck like a tent peg.

Aurix is out, so Hazel is up. She shoots the mage and gets the how de dos dis! “Do we need him alive? Non-lethal damage.”

Nuri: “We don’t need him, we got the other guy.”

Hazel, gleefully: “Lethal damage!”

We tie up the captain and loot the bodies. Nuri finds this:

We will interrogate the captain next week…

#dnd #dragon heist #dragon heist spoilers

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creatingspaceinmyhead · 2 years

Text

Look what you made me do.

I’m sure everyone loves that song by taylor swift.

“I don't like your little games Don't like your tilted stage The role you made me play of the fool No, I don't like youI don't like your perfect crime How you laugh when you lie You said the gun was mine Isn't cool, no, I don't like you .”

So I’m writing these journal entries becasue I’ve had someone in my life who has acted in a completely shady way and I really need to jut sit here and write eveything that went down. So i can finally clear my head and move on with this mess. I’m probably going to included the messages as well. Now just to be completely honest and transparent, I also acted like a tool throughout this as well. Mostly out of hurt, but I did say thngs that I am not proud of.

I’m going to put these under read mores - TRIGGER WARNING TALKING ABOUT CHILD ABUSE -

But this ended up playing perfectly into what she wanted to happen anyway.

But I digress, I should start at the beginning because all good writing has those. So my sister in law we’ll refer to her as H, from now on. Started dating this abusive dickead who we’ll refer to as L, back in 2017. He’s a complete waste of time and space, he doesn’t even have the looks to make up for his terrible personality. So they had been dating a while when this happened, but basicaly L has a kid called C and obviously being the crapbag that he is, he treats him like shit all the time and calls him names and is genrally terrible. H’s mum J has spent the past 2 years coming down to us, complaining about L and basically wishing that H would just hurry up and leave him. (spoiler she won’t because he’s her “soul mate”.)

I had, had my daughter B several months before, so we had the ‘pleasure’ of seeing H more and hearing about the drama that is her life. Until on day when she also brings down L and his son C. Now this day L had a stick up his arse, and you could just tell that he was being foul. By this point we’d seen him with his son a coupe of times and hear enough from J to know that he’s abusing this kid. But obviously becasue they don’t do anything, and he’s comfortable enough around us, he obviously thought that he could do anything he wants and not get into trouble.

So C is on the floor playing with B, he’s 6 so he’s miowing and pretending to be a cat. You know kid stuff. L is on the sofa being miserable and staring at his phone when he suddenly shouts, “god shut up you stupid cunt.” yes to a child who is just pretending to be a cat. H and J half heartedly tell him off, he ignores them and goes back to his phone. My partner T (H’s brother) is obviously annoyed he takes B to get a bottle in the kitchen. I’m uncomfortable as all heck, so after a little bit I start to follow him down to the kitchen, I’ve barley left the living room when I hear an almighty CRASH and turn around.

J shouts H, go get C. And all you can here is L shouting. The H starts banshi screaming “give him here, give him to me, STOP.” My partner hearing this comes storming down the corridor. He hands me B. And starts to make for throwing L out on his arse. Because we could all hear that he had just thrown that little boy into a wall. J is already screaming at him in the living room “your a terrible father, how dare you, that is disgusting behaviour.” L just sits down casually on the sofa. J then tried to restrain T from throwing him out (I still don’t know why. As H rushing past me into the kitchen.

We all follow her, C has a hug egg on the back of his head, a chinese burn up his arm and all H can say is lamely “sorry guys.” Like this is normal. Poor fucking C says “why is daddy so mad at me.” They all leave shortly after. He tries to hld his dads hand in the car and he snatches it away. When L gets to his ex-K house he tells her a lie that C was swinging on a doorknob and thats why he has a bump.

H and L break up that night

And H does the only decent thing shes ever done, and tells ex-K what really happened and that L abused his kid and hurt him. ex-K said “not like its the first time.” (I’m going to tell the story in order but this part is important.)

The next day H and L get back together (obviously, she is a doormat.)

I spend the next 2-3 days wrestling with wether I should contact social services. J says that she has half a mind to report him herself because his behaviour was so bad. My partner T is livid and agrees that I should. So I ring up social and tell them what happened.

A couple of days after that I get an angry message for J saying that H has just rung her in floods of tears, becasue shes had to talk to the police on her first week of being a teacher (yes I know H is a teacher.) But that its all my fault because I reported it and how dare I.

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caitimetravels · 3 years

Text

she's insignificant

chapter 10: where you've gone

the umbrella academy x (fem) reader

disclaimer: i do not own the plot/storyline of the netflix tv series and i do not own the umbrella academy characters.

warnings: none

masterlist

with a sigh, y/n stood. five was still writing away behind her on the walls non-stop. she didn't dare interrupt him, simply leaving. she would be back anyways. all she needed was a nice walk.

as she wandered down the street with no destination in mind she spaced out, eyes trained on her feet. suddenly someone knocked her shoulder and brought her back to reality. she raised her head, hoping they weren't someone looking to start a fight or argue with her.

"y/n?" instead she was met with allison. her technically older sister seemed frustrated.

"allison? are you okay?" y/n's eyebrows furrowed, looking up at the curly haired woman.

"yeah.. i think so" she frowned, "i'm worried about vanya. she won't listen to me but her boyfriend, whoever he is.. i think he's dangerous. i couldn't find anything about him-"

"you went searching for his records?" y/n pulled back in disbelief, "allison! you know vanya doesn't like-"

"i know, she already got angry with me" allison sighed, shaking her head.

"why would you do that?" y/n tilted her head up at her, eyes narrowing incredulously. "where are you even going?"

"well, i found his address. i was going to see if anything's weird.." she earned a disapproving look, "i can't just sit around and do nothing y/n! please, help me, for vanya?"

y/n's expression only darkened, "why are you trying to ruin one of the only good things in her life?! she deserves to be happy for once and im not going to help you take that away from her!" she begun to shout, freezing as she realised her powers were getting out of control in the middle of the street. "just.. leave them alone!"

she took off, hoping to get away, she needed to get away.

————————————————–

as the sweet melody came to soft halt y/n smiled up at her sister. vanya donned a similar grin, placing her violin down and joining y/n on the floor, cross legged and leaning back against her bed.

"one day, you're going to be amazing, v" y/n mumbled quietly, looking like she was in a slight daze, "more amazing than you are now.. you're going to be a famous violinist, i can see it now. 'vanya hargreeves, the world's best violinist'"

vanya softly nudged her shoulder, shaking her head. "no way, the world? c'mon"

"i'm serious!" y/n was adamant, sitting up straighter to see her better, "you're gonna be so cool! and everyone here is going to see you and say 'damn, wish i had seen how awesome our sister was back then' and you're going to have lots of fans!"

vanya snorted, shyly brushing her long hair to the side, "yeah, right"

".. you won't forget me when you're famous, right?" y/n leaned back against the bed to avoid direct eye contact, her voice was much softer now. "don't forget me.. okay?" she nervously side eyed her sister, trying to gauge her reaction.

"i could never" vanya shook her head, leaning into the h/c haired girl. both of them shared small content grins.

————————————————–

as she walked upstairs to five's room she heard a commotion, hopefully he hadn't gotten into a fight with one of their siblings again, right?

wrong.

"put her down" five snarled, holding a gun up to luther who held dolores' body out the window. y/n grinned at the sight, highly amused. who would have thought luther would ever threaten someone? well, y'know excluding their missions.. but five nonetheless? she leaned casually against the doorway, arms crossing and waiting for them to sort out whatever issue she walked in on.

"put the gun down, you're not killing anyone today. i know she's important to you so don't make me do this" luther paused, waiting to see what five would do. "it's either her or the gun.. you decide"

eventually five did decide that dolores was more important and dropped the gun before spacial jumping to catch dolores before she could fall. not that much damage would have occurred to the mannequin anyways, maybe a few scratches.

"i can keep doing this all day" luther spoke triumphantly, now holding the gun at his side. y/n snorted, catching their attention.

"you're such children" both glared at her in response, "c'mon, surely you have a better plan than whatever ended up in this-" she gestured vaguely between them, "squabble"

"we did not squabble" five hissed, placing dolores down and straightening his jacket. "but yes, i do have a one other plan"

————————————————–

the three of them, five, luther and y/n, drove down an empty road before slowing to a stop. five unbuckled his seatbelt and sighed, looking around.

"you know, i never enjoyed it" he started and luther turned to him in confusion.

"what?"

"the killing. i mean i was- i was good at my work and i took pride in it but it never gave me pleasure" he took a deep breath, "i think it was all those years alone. solitude can do funny things to the mind"

"yeah well, you were gone for such a long time.. i only spent four years on the moon but that was more than enough. it's the being alone that breaks you" luther placed a hand on the briefcase, "you think they'll buy it?"

"well, what i do know is that they're desperate. it's like a cop losing his gun" he alluded, "if the commission finds out they'll be in deep shit, well not to mention that they'll be stuck here until they get it back"

"i should hold onto it" luther suggested, patting it with one hand.

"hm?" five's eyebrows furrowed,

"incase they make a move on you" he added to explain his point.

"okay, luther.. but be careful. i've lived a long life but.. you're still a young man, you've got your whole life ahead of you. don't waste it" y/n snorted and five turned to her, unamused.

"what?" they stared at each other for a moment before five shook his head, looking away with a small smile.

suddenly a car began to drive towards them and they all made to get out of the car. "here we go" five sighed again, he was doing that a lot, y/n realised.

the car continued to drive past them, stopping a few metres away.

"if this all goes sideways.. do me a favour and tell dolores i'm sorry" five turned to luther who nodded slowly.

as five walked away from them y/n leaned back against the car.

"i have a bad feeling about this" she nervously picked at her nails and luther frowned, looking over at her.

"why? what's wrong?"

"that.. i don't know yet" she looked down the road, "i just.. feel like something's off" she shook her head as five walked back, leaning next to her.

luther stepped forwards a bit, "what happens now?"

"now we wait"

barely a moment later they heard the music of an ice cream truck. y/n squinted against the sun and wind, trying to work out who it was. she took a moment to focus, sensing klaus, diego and ben. uh oh.

as the car got closer luther turned to five, "is that her?"

"luther, you idiot" y/n shook her head, "it's klaus and diego" right on time klaus waved to them as they passed.

the two assassins begun shooting, thinking it was a set up and y/n raised her arms to cover her head as luther stepped in front of her and five to block any shots.

suddenly time stopped.. well, only for five.

he frowned down at y/n next to him, the girl cowering in on herself. he felt bad for bringing her into something like this but she was very persistent.

he slowly stepped under luther's arm, looking at everyone frozen in slight confusion.

"neat trick, isn't it?" a feminine voice called out behind him and he turned to face the woman he had asked to see. the handler. she stared at him, pulling the veil over her face up and onto her hat instead before pulling her sunglasses off.

"hello, five" she smiled, "you look good.. all things considered" she softly gestured to all of him.

"it's good to see you again" he nodded back,

"feels like we met just yesterday, 'course you were a little bit older then" she teased, "congratulations on the age regression, by the way. very clever, threw us all off the scent"

"ah, well, i wish i could take credit" five shrugged, looking away. "i just miscalculated the time dilation of projections and.. well, you know, here i am" his gaze met hers once again, throwing his hands up before putting them back in his pockets, casually.

"you realise your efforts are futile" the handler shifted so that her briefcase was behind her, "so, why don't you tell me what you really want?"

"i want you to put a stop to it" five moved his own hands behind his back.

"you realise what you're asking for is next to impossible even for me" she shook her head, "what's meant to be is meant to be. that's our raison d'etre"

"yeah?" five smiled sarcastically, pulling a gun from his shorts "well how about survival as a raison?"

"i'll just be replaced, i am but a small cog in a machine" the handler waved it off, ignoring the gun pointing straight at her heart. "this fantasy you've been nurturing about summoning up your family to stop the apocalypse is just that.. a fantasy. i must say though, we'll quite impressed with your initiative, your stick-to-it-tiveness, really quite- quite something. which is why we want to offer you, a new position back at the commission, in management" the handler held a hand up, smiling like her offer was an obvious choice.

"sorry what's that now?" five scoffed as she stepped closer, hand tightening on the gun.

"come back to work for us again, you know it's where you belong"

"well, it didn't work out too well the last time" he glared up at her, not liking the persistence.

"oh but you wouldn't be in the correction department any longer, i'm talking about the home office, you'd have the best health and pension and an end to this ceaseless travel" she laughed freely, "you're a distinguished professional in.. school boy shorts. we have the technology to reverse the process. i mean you- you can't be happy like this" she slowly pushed his gun down, stepping ever closer.

"i'm not looking for happy" he spat through gritted teeth.

the handler only tilted her head, eyeing him carefully before raising a hand to stroke his cheek, "we're all looking for happy. we can make that happen, we can make you.. yourself again"

five huffed a laugh, gesturing to his siblings. "what about my family?"

"what about them?" the handler raised an eyebrow, acting like she didn't already know he intended to save them.

"i want them to survive"

the handler took in a deep breath, taking in the sight of luther protecting y/n who was still crouching against the car as well as diego and klaus who were in the middle of crashing the ice cream truck.

"all of them?"

"yes, all of them" he narrowed his eyes at her,

the handler gave him a small smirk, moving towards the recoiled girl. five watched carefully, waiting to see what she would do.

"it's such a shame.. she would have done well with us. if only we could take her too" she reached a hand out, about to touch her but five moved first, spacial jumping in front of her and grabbing her hand. he held her away from y/n.

"don't touch her" he snarled, unmoving from his protective stance.

"my my, five, i didn't expect such protectiveness from you" the handler merely smirked, stepping away. as they walked back she once again proposed her deal.

"well" the handler begun, reaching a hand into her pocket and pulling out her sunglasses before putting them back on her face. "i'll see what i can do from them.. do we have a deal?" she reached a hand out to him, awaiting his acceptance. he merely stared at her hand before sighing,

"one thing" five stepped back, putting his gun in his shorts again. he walked over to hazel's gun on the floor, taking out the ammunition and chucking it on one side of the road before chucking the rest of the gun to the other. he turned and walked back, noticing the bullet headed towards luther and y/n. he frowned, using his pointer finger and thumb to move it over so that it would hit the car instead of them.

as soon as he shook her outstretched hand they disappeared and time was restored.

y/n shivered, ignoring the bullet hitting the car next to her and the way her siblings scrambled around to get away quick. she allowed herself to be shoved into the car with klaus and diego, spaced out.

"you alright?" diego turned to her while klaus stuck the middle finger up at hazel and cha cha.

"i felt someone else.. it was only for a moment but i felt someone.." she spoke solemnly, staring at her shaking hands. "and then five just.. disappeared"

tag list: (if your name is crossed i couldnt tag you) @rxses-and-reverie @lostgreekgod @on-yourmark-99 @bicyhot1 @navs-bhat @midnightmystic @shawkneecaps @baby-bi-bi-bi-yeah @velveticxyyy

#tua #the umbrella academy #tua x sibling reader #the umbrella academy x sibling reader #five hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #luther hargreeves #ben hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x reader #allison hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #vanya hargreeves x reader #luther hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves x reader

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psychdelia · 3 years

Text

steve knows he’s being fucking stupid. that he should grab his stupid scoops ahoy hat and shirt and put them back on.

but he’s never been too bright, especially when he’s in love.

“open the door.” he meets shaky breaths and silence. “open the door!” he snaps at the kids behind him, eyes locked on his boyfriend, rocking back and forth in the sauna.

these damn kids were about to get themselves killed. he has to save them yet again, but it’s not just their asses on the line. billy is in there, possessed, and max couldn’t get through to him so now it’s steve’s turn to try. shirtless, scared steve who has no idea if he’ll make it out of there alive. running on love and adrenaline, he doesn’t care.

eleven cracks the door open just enough for him to slip in, locking it again.

steve starts sweating immediately. it’s hot. billy is just sitting there, rocking back and forth, knuckles white as they grip the bench he sits on.

steve slowly drops to his knees in front of billy, keeps distance between them as he stares up at his boyfriend. his expression is blank, lost, but his eyes. fuck, his eyes. they’re so sad. exhausted and glazed over, wet with unshed tears. he doesn’t know if billy’s all there, or even there at all.

“billy.” he murmurs softly, hands hovering above his knees, not quite touching him. too scared of what might happen if he does. “billy, baby, it’s me.”

steve doesn’t have the time or energy to deal with the shocked and confused gasps that come from the kids, not when billy’s eyes finally meet his. they brighten just a touch with recognition, still red rimmed and teary.

“hey.” steve smiles sadly. “i-i know you’re in there. i know you’re probably so fucking scared, but you gotta be strong. you’re so strong billy, you just gotta fight.” steve’s hands finally land on his knees, not daring to squeeze or startle him. or the mindflayer.

a tear rolls down billy’s cheek, face unmoving.

“i know.” steve frowns sadly, smoothing circles over billy’s knee with his thumb. “i know you’re tired of fighting and hurting. please, billy, it’s just one last time. i’ll keep you safe and make sure nothing - no one ever hurts you again.”

more tears roll down his cheeks.

“i promise.” steve adds softly. “i know you’re in there, i know you see me, hear me. come on, billy, talk to me. please.” steve begs. he doesn’t realize how the sauna has gotten significantly hotter.

doesn’t have time to worry about it when billy finally cracks and breaks, broken sobs and whimpers leaving his throat. he chokes out a broken “steve.”

the clarity comes back into his eyes, sadness and fear written all over his face.

“he made me do it,” billy cries, shaky hands grabbing onto steve’s and squeezing so tight.

“who? what did he make you do?” steve climbs up onto the bench beside billy.

he should be scared, shouldn’t be pressing their sides flush and ridding of any distance between them. but with billy back to consciousness and seeking his comfort, well he has a little glimmer of hope and lots of love to give.

“i don’t know he-he’s like a shadow. he made me hurt people. i don’t wanna hurt people, steve, please forgive me. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” he’s crying freely now, slumping against steve.

“it’s okay, it’s okay. it’s not you, baby, you’re not doing this. none of this is you, but you gotta stay with me. you can’t let it take you again. we’re almost done, just. please stay.” steve’s voice breaks off at the end, holding billy up as his shoulders shake through sobs.

“heather.” billy whimpers. “she’s in m-my trunk. i don’t wanna hurt her anymore but he’s making me.”

“we’ll get her out, okay? she’ll be perfectly fine, just like you. just breathe and stay with me.” steve rubs billy’s back, catches sweat on his fingertips and palm. he glances up to find max tossing lucas the key to the camaro before he sprints out. he comes back with heather, looking shocked and scared and sad.

“it hurts.” billy whines through gritted teeth. “it’s so hot. he-he likes the cold.”

“i know. we’re gonna get him out of you soon. you just gotta keep fighting. gotta stay with me. then everything will be okay. i can’t lose you.” relief washes over steve as billy nods weakly, shaking and crying in his arms.

steve pulls billy even closer and tighter. he’s starting to burn up too, skin sweaty and prickling. he can’t even imagine how billy feels, burning from the inside out. he sneaks a glance out at the kids, catches their shocked and sad eyes. he finally finds eleven’s, big and too strong for a kid her age. she must read his mind because then she’s nodding and reaching toward the thermometer. her eyes are shut tightly, face contorted in pain and determination. it takes a second, but the room gets impossibly hotter.

“too hot.” billy hisses, his skin burning up beneath steve’s hands. they’re both too hot, skin red and sweaty and on fire.

“we’re almost there.” steve reassures. “you love the heat. the california sun and beaches and warm water. this isn’t any different. i’ll take you back. take you to all the beaches and your favorite stores and restaurants and try those street burritos you always talk about. i’ll burn under the sun while you get golden tan and hot to the touch. i wanna give you the world, billy.” steve rambles.

billy cries harder, so scared and in so much pain.

“i love you so much, fuck. too fucking much it hurts. i don’t want you to hurt. not anymore. please just fight him out.” the room feels like it’s getting hotter, steve’s chest getting tight.

he thought he knew love. thought he had already gone through the trial and error of being in love with nancy.

that’s nothing compared to this right now.

“what if i can’t and-“

“you can.” steve cuts him off fiercely. “you can and you will.” the room feels like it can’t get any hotter, feels like it already it.

steve’s moved on from love and sadness and grief. he’s angry, now. so hot and sweaty and irritable. he wants billy to get angry.

“fuck him.” steve spits. “fuck all of them. your mom for leaving you, your dad for hurting you. all the teachers and adults in your life who failed you. fuck this shadow. fuck them! don’t let them win. you’ve been through so much, too fucking much. you can’t give up now. can’t prove them right.”

billy just weeps, shaking his head.

steve gently grabs his face, such a contrast from the anger running through his veins. he coaxes billy into looking up, making eye contact with him.

“listen to me. you’re billy fucking hargrove. you’ve been fighting your whole damn life and you’re so close, so close to winning. to being free and letting me drag our asses back where you belong, under the stupid fucking sun on the stupid fucking sand. you lose now, there’s no more beaches. there’s no more warm water and burritos and sand stuck in your hair for days. you let him win - your dad, the shadow - you lose so much worth fighting for. you hear me?”

billy nods. he’s stopped full on sobbing, left with a quivering bottom lip and leftover tears wetting his cheeks.

“so be my strong, stubborn hardheaded asshole boyfriend and fight this thing out. NOW.”

billy clenches his jaw, nostrils flaring as the fire simmers underneath blue.

“NOW!” steve yells.

the room is as hot as it can get, eleven’s screaming at the thermometer about to break through the fucking wall. max is crying in heather’s arms and the boys are chanting and yelling, cheering billy on.

billy’s eyes and veins are turning black, body twitching before he’s screaming in pain and agony, the black shadow leaving his body and crashing through the sauna ground. it feels like it goes on forever despite it only being a minute, the mindflayer fucked up entity finally leaving billy’s body and leaving a hole right in the middle of the ground.

billy gasps for air and slumps against steve once the room stops shaking and lights stop flickering and the black hole looks more like layers of cement and foundation. he coughs and heaves, throwing up black goo. steve holds him upright, makes sure he’s gotten everything out of his body and system.

steve gently pulls billy back up when he’s reduced to groans and whimpers, beyond relieved when he finds billy’s eyes and skin have returned back to normal, no traces of black or mindflayer left behind.

“hey, hey, hey. billy, you there? look at me.” steve cups his cheeks in his hands, forcing billy to look up at him.

he looks like shit. red and sweaty but worryingly pale at the same time. his hair is damp and flat, sticking to his face. steve can’t imagine that he looks much better himself.

“tacos.” billy finally speaks. he looks up at steve. “they’re street tacos. not burritos.” he grins, sideways and tired but still billy.

steve smiles so fucking wide, heart too big for his chest as he pulls billy into the tightest fucking hug, peppering kisses all over his face and head.

“let’s get you out of here.” steve helps him up, guides him around the hole in the ground and out of the sauna after el opens the door for them.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #this is how the sauna test should’ve gone #wdym this isn’t canon???#billy and steve are so in love #and steve is blinded by love

310 notes · View notes

pennylanefics · 3 years

Text

Accidentally - Jacob Black

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for like a week. i wrote this in like an hour and a half lol, got the idea and ran with it. loved it up until the ending 🤷🏼‍♀️

warnings: descriptions/mentions of blood, injuries, stitches

•••

The fight with the newborns was finished. The vampires retreated after realizing Bella would soon become one, no lives were lost on your side, and everyone, besides Jacob, was unharmed. Though his accelerated healing pulled through after Carlisle reset his bones, and he was back to himself.

Bella, seeing this as a win for everyone, and wanting to celebrate her engagement with Edward, invited the wolf pack and their imprints over to the Cullens’ house for dinner. You found this to be odd for a couple reasons; vampires don’t eat, and the two groups usually aren’t ones to celebrate things together.

The pack eventually, reluctantly, agreed, and the date was set.

When you arrived with Jacob, the rest of the pack and their loved ones did as well. You join Emily and Kim to head straight for the kitchen, finding that Esme and Carlisle were cooking.

“We know that Paul can eat, so we made sure to make enough for everyone,” Esme smiles.

The three of you offer to help and she gives you each something you can do. You were given broccoli to cut up for a side dish of steamed broccoli, while Emily helped cook the chicken dish and Kim made a pasta salad.

The atmosphere is a little awkward at first. The vampires converse with each other, and the wolves stick to their pack. Eventually, Emmett apologizes to Paul for the misunderstanding on the tribe’s land, and things relax a bit.

Bella and Edward talk with Seth about their news; she looks so happy, and you could tell she really loved Edward. Though you knew she was playing with fire, being so close to people that could kill her instantly.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you weren’t paying attention and end up slicing your finger open. Feeling the piercing pain, you drop the knife, catching everyone’s attention.

“Ah shit,” you hiss, cradling your hand. Esme and Carlisle share a knowing look. Kim wraps your hand in a towel, but that makes it worse, as it spreads your scent around more. This keeps Jasper’s attention the most; he’s still not really good at controlling himself around human blood.

You didn’t know what happened, but one second you were standing next to Kim, and the next you were flung into the wall, crashing and falling onto a glass table. You can feel shards of glass in your arm, but the growling and hissing from the two supernatural groups in the room distracts you.

Emmett was standing in front of you, trying to keep Jasper from coming for you. Sam and Paul join in and lunge for the blonde vampire, Emmett pushing the group as far away from you as possible. Carlisle rushes over to you to assess your bleeding arm.

“Get him out of here, now!” He demands to the three. Jasper finally relaxes and walks out of the house, Alice, Edward, Bella, and Rosalie following. Carlisle helps you stand and Emily brings another towel to try and help with the blood.

“What the hell is going on?!” Jacob rushes in, Embry behind him.

“Jake, why don’t you go to the living room and calm down before-”

“No, Emily! I wanna know why the fuck my girlfriend is bleeding!”

“I’m going to take her to my office to stitch her up, she’ll be fine,” Carlisle tells him softly. Jacob tries to grab his shoulder and stop him in an angry manner, but the vampire is too fast for him and rushes up the stairs.

“Kim?!” He demands. She shakes her head, still in shock at how fast everything happened. Huffing, he follows you upstairs, but he gets lost trying to find Carlisle’s office. When he does, he sees you sitting on a small table.

“Get away from her,” he growls, his anger growing by the second. Carlisle keeps calm and faces him.

“I’m not a danger, Jacob. She’s in safe hands, I promise.”

“I don’t give a shit, get away now!”

“Jake,” you call out, your voice quiet and soothing. Upon hearing you, he calms down immediately, his eyes catching yours. “He’s okay.”

“You should be worried about Jasper. He’s the one that caused all of this.”

“What the hell did he do? Slam her into the wall for fun?!”

“Jacob, I’ll tell you once Carlisle finishes, just please.” He sighs and takes a seat in the chair next to the door, hanging his head in his hands stressfully.

He stays by the door the entire time, making sure no one comes in. He also watches Carlisle, but that’s not as big of a worry because he can see and sense how comfortable you are. Part of him hates that he acted out on the doctor, seeing as he just recently helped heal him.

“She’s all done. About ten stitches in her arm, and two in her finger. I’ll come over to your place when they need to be taken out,” he tells Jacob, discarding his gloves and washing his hands.

“Thank you, Carlisle,” you say. He smiles and pats your shoulder.

“Anytime. I’ll see you in about a week.” He walks out of the room, shutting the door. You reach your hand out for Jacob, and he finally trudges over to you.

As soon as he stands in front of you, to get a better look at the two bandages on your body, he breaks down crying. He stands between your legs and leans onto your shoulder, crying loudly. He holds onto you gently, being mindful of your injured arm.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles through tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you and you got hurt when I was here.”

“Hey, it’s okay, babe. Things happen.”

“It wouldn’t have happened if I were inside, protecting you.”

“Jacob,” you pull back to look him in the eyes. “Emmett saved me. I’m okay.”

“Emmett did this?” He begins to grow angry again. “I thought it was Jasper.”

“I cut my finger while chopping broccoli. Kim gave me a towel to try and contain it, but it made it worse. Jasper went to attack me, but Emmett pushed me away. I ended up slamming into the wall and falling onto a glass table.”

“Fucking vampires,” he whispers under his breath. You giggle and cradle his cheek.

“I’m okay, so let’s-”

“No, we’re not staying. We’re going home right now.” Deciding it was best not to argue with him, you nod. He helps you down from the table and guides you back downstairs. Carlisle and Esme were the only two in the living room, the vampires having gone to their respected rooms and the wolf pack and the others waiting outside.

“Thank you again, Carlisle. I’m sorry my blood ruined the party,” you chuckle. He laughs and pulls Esme into his side.

“It’s my job. And no worries. Wolves, humans, and vampires aren’t really meant to have parties like this. If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been something else.”

“Well, wish Bella and Edward the best for me, and apologize to Jasper.” They nod and wave goodbye as you and Jacob head outside. Before you could get into Jacob’s car, a voice stops you.

Emmett appears at the bottom of the stairs in seconds due to his speed. Jacob goes to lunge for him, but Paul and Embry hold him back.

“I just wanted to apologize for what happened. I didn’t mean to throw you into the wall, I just wanted to get you away from him. I kinda forgot you are human for a second,” he tells you.

“No hard feelings Em. Thanks for saving me.” You hug him tightly and he is careful with your arm, but hugs you back as well.

“No fucking thanks for throwing her into a glass table!” Jacob yells angrily. Emmett sighs and faces Jacob, crossing his arms cockily.

“Would you rather have had Jasper get to her, bite her, and turn her into one of us? Or would you rather her walk away alive with only a few stitches in her arm?” Emmett offers. Jacob sees his point right away and relaxes. He can’t read their minds like they can with him, but he can see Emmett is being sincere in his intentions.

“Thank you,” Jacob finally mutters, holding his hand out for Emmett. The buff vampire shakes his hand and backs away.

“I promise my intentions were good. I would obviously never want to hurt her, because I know what you wolves can do when someone hurts your imprint, but it was the best option.”

“I get it. And yeah. I may want to rip yours and Jasper’s heads off, but I’m glad she’s not one of you.” Emmett chuckles and pats your back one last time before heading back inside. Jacob helps you into his car as soon as he turns his back, and drives off within seconds.

“Did he say to change the dressing or anything?” Jacob asks as you two get ready for bed.

“He said I need to keep it on through the night, then I can take it off in the morning to clean it and redress it. He gave me some gauze to do so.”

You two finally crawl into Jacob’s bed, you laying on your left side, facing Jacob. He caresses your cheek then reaches for your injured left hand, which was resting by his face. His lips gently graze over your skin, his kisses ending just below the gauze wrapped around your index finger.

“We’re never going back over there,” he whispers. You giggle lightly and nod.

“What about Bella’s wedding? We’ll have to face them then?”

“We’ll go out of town that weekend. Sorry, but I don’t want you around Jasper anymore. Honestly I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from attacking him anyway. No one gets away with intending to hurt a wolf’s imprint.”

“He still struggles with being around human blood, Jake. At least be a little understanding.” He stares at you in confusion.

“No, I won’t. Emmett said it himself. If he wasn’t there, Jasper would’ve killed you and...I…I wouldn’t kn-know what to do,” he stumbles over his words, feeling the tears come again. “I can’t lose you, baby.”

“You won’t lose me, Jacob. I won’t go around them anymore, and we’ll go out of town for Bella’s wedding.”

“Good. She’ll be upset with me, but she’s not my problem anymore. You’re my entire world, and I want you to be safe. Being safe beats celebrating a wedding that is going to end up with her dead anyway.”

“If that’s what she wants, then let her. She’s their problem now, like you said.”

“Mhm. Anyway, enough about that. Get some sleep, okay?

“Alright. I love you too, Jake.”

“I’ll forever love you. Goodnight, my love.”

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