#jeff just tells him how much he fucked up not ditching them to hang out with steve
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I want more platonic stobin and bisexualy disaster Steve and gay disaster Eddie in my life. So I wrote some :)
Steve wanted to scream as he tried the handle again. "Steve. Steve!" Robin pulled him away from the door. "They aren't opening the door, and you're just gonna break the handle. Keith already hates your guts. Don't make it worse." She pointed out, weirdly calm about all of this. "Plus, it's not like we don't share space normally." She says and sinks down to the floor, tugging him down with her.
Steve looked at the door, "Why can't they accept that we're only ever going to be platonic?" He asks and runs a ran through his hair. He was sick of this. Of the comments and the teasing. It stresses him out.
They kept pushing the two of them together, and Steve was worried that it could mess up what friendship he had with Robin. Because Steve's used to messing up and hurting someone, and he really doesn't want to hurt Robin. He has nightmares of outing her by accident and ruining her life. It terrifies him.
"Steve, come on, it's okay. It's just a stupid bathroom. We've shared a bathroom stall. This is bigger than that." She jokes, and he pulls his knees up to his chest.
"I can't do this, Rob." He admits and watches her freeze. Her walls climbed up like he said something really stupid. "I'm sorry, but I'm just-"
She cuts him off, "I get it. You don't want to deal with the backlash of being a lesbian's friend." She says, and he blinks.
"What? No! I don't want to say the wrong thing. I get bitchy when I'm annoyed and I'm easily annoyed when I'm stressed. And I'm stressed! So I don't - I can't be the one to out you. I can't mess that up for you." He says, and it's nice to finally admit his fears.
Robin blinks at him, "That's what- Steve, that's what bothers you about all this?"
Steve nods, "I mess up everything I touch. I can't do that to you, I won't do that to you. Honestly, you should probably find better friends. One who thinks with his brai-"
"Shut up." Robin snaps, and he stops speaking. Looking at her with wide eyes. "You can't talk about my best friend that way. I won't let you," She states.
"You're best friend?"
Her eyes soften, "yeah dingus. Who else would be my best friend? We're soulmates," She decides, and he's confused because she sounds like she means it. "Platonic, with a capital p, soulmates."
He swallows back a ball of emotion, "even if all the kids I babysit-"
"Mother."
"Babysit," he stresses, and she smiles. "Try to get us together at every opportunity and won't believe that we aren't in love. Or that I'm in love with you at the least. I think you're better off because you call me dingus more than my name," he mused.
Robin sighed, "I won't say that it's not annoying. But I'm used to dodging questions about boys, and this way... with you, I have someone to be myself with. That's more important to me than some stupid preteens who think locking us in a bathroom would get us together."
Steve smiles, "last time we shared a bathroom did go pretty well, honestly." She knocked her knee into his. He glanced over at the door. "Do you think they'll give up?"
Robin snorts, "Dustin's more invested in your love life than you are. I don't think he'll give up unless you're dating someone else or the truth comes out."
Steve sighed, chewing his lower lip until something clicked in his head. "What If I come out?"
Robin blinked, "you- what?"
Steve nodded, "I mean I like both but I could just say I favor guys." He shrugs, "it's not like they could disprove it since it's mostly true."
Robin stared at him, "Steve... since when did you- what? Steve oh my god," She shifted onto her knees and slammed into him. "Since fucking when! Why didn't you ever tell me!"
Steve raised an eyebrow, "what do you mean since when? I literally point out hot guys all the time! When we watched watched Rocky Horror, I said Tim Curry was sexy!"
She shook his shoulders, "you did no such thing! You ask if I also think a guy is hot and you said- oh." It clicks for her and she falls back on her ass. She covers her face, "holy shit."
Steve smirks, "holy shit."
A giggle escapes her lips, "you so have a type."
"Shut up," he groans.
But before they can really dig into it, there's a loud knock on the door. "We're gonna open the door in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!" The door swings in a Dustin's hand is over his eyes like he's gonna be scarred at the sight of them.
"We're literally just sitting on the floor Henderson. Not having freaky bathroom sex," Steve rolls his eyes and stands, Robin following suit.
Dustin looks upset like he expect his plan to work. "I don't get it." Steve ruffles his hair as he passes the kid. Robin lets out a small laugh as she stretches her limbs like she had been stuck in there for more than just 15 minutes. Steve turns, and she locks eyes with him, a silent question.
"Kid, I've said this a million times, but I'll say it one more time." He glances at the other kids that had either always been there or gotten here at some point since he'd been locked into the bathroom. "Robin and I will never date. She and I have no romantic feelings for each other. And if you pull this shit when we're at work again, I'll kill you."
"It's not like it was hard to figure out how to check someone out," Max shrugged and Steve huffed at her nonchalant grin from behind the counter.
Steve ushers the kids out from behind the counter before taking his normal spot, looking around at the empty store. Robin moves and bumps shoulders with him. "Platonic feelings only." She gestures between them.
Dustin groan, "I just don't get why!"
Steve glances at Robin, "because I'm too gay for her." He states and everyone goes quiet. "Honestly boobies are so high school." He winks at Robin who looks at him like he's bravely stupid.
"Wait but you dated Nancy?" Mike questioned arms over his chest.
Steve rolled his eyes, "so? I am more picky on who I date. Doesn't matter the gender. Robin doesn't tick my boxes."
"But she should!" Dustin complains and Robin groans.
But then Steve sees someone in the windows, heading towards the doors to Family video. "My type is more," and he just gestures just as the door dings to call their attention to the newcomer.
Eddie Munson glances at the kids and then at Steve. "Sheepies," he says. Eyebrows raised in confusion at the eyes on him. Eddie glanced at Steve, "Harrington, you break the kids?" He asks as all the kids continue to stare at him as he moves to the horror section.
Steve waves his hand, like he can brush off the confusion. "Nah, they're just shocked that I'm not completely in love with Birdie over here."
Everyone's jaw is on the floor as Steve leans his arms on the counter, not even bothering to hide the way he checks Eddie out when the man looks away. "Right," Eddie sighs and grabs a movie. "Well, not everyone's type is jocks." Eddie teases slightly, having warmed up to Steve little by little when Steve picks the kids up from Hellfire.
Steve takes the movie from Eddie, giving him his one free movie he gets for the week and hands it back to Eddie without charging him. "I'll win ya over." He winks, and Eddie's eyes go a little wide.
Eyes glanced around like he could ask if anyone else saw that. "Um, well, yeah, how-how much for the-"
"Consider it on me." Steve waved his hand and then leaned more into Eddie's space, "I haven't seen this one yet."
Eddie swallows, "You should check it out. It's, uh, pretty good."
Steve smiles, "I'm shit with horror, maybe if I had someone to hold my hand through it." He sighs overdramatically, then snaps, "Oh, I know! If you're not busy we could watch it together. I mean, it seems like a scary metalhead like yourself would be capable of holding my hand through the jump scares."
Eddie's eyes are blinking rapidly, "it's for the boys." He says, looking lost. Steve frowns, and Eddie jumps into action, "But I could-" He stops himself and groans. "I've got to- plans- fuck-" He stumbles and practically smacks into the door in his rush to leave family video.
Steve sighs and leans his head down on the counter. Robin pats his back, "I miss my whiteboard." She sighs and he looks up to glare at her.
#eddie screams in his pillow when he gets home#gareth calls him pathetic#jeff just tells him how much he fucked up not ditching them to hang out with steve#because have you seen steve?#dustin begins to start to plot how to get steve and eddie together not long after this#platonic stobin#steddie#stranger things#knightly talks#pre steddie
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Hey, I love your stories and your style of writing 💕 I was wondering if you could write one on Scott Reed, along the storyline of the series, where the reader was Jeff's girlfriend until his death, and Scott is there by her side and starts to get along with her, but he's hesitant to make a move because he was pretty close to Jeff as well?
MOVING FORWARD?
A/N: Trigger warning: character death. I hope you like this. I tried to focus more on the process of moving forward with little snippets. I’m sorry this took a while, I had to make the parts flow together and it was challenging. I wrote and rewrote it a few times. Sorry if spacing is off, I tried to fix it as best I could. You’ll want tissues and maybe a snack. It’s a long one.
SEPTEMBER
“Babe, you don’t have to go. I can go get more beer. You stay here with your friends.” I asked Jeff, who was getting his coat to go on a beer run. Jessica’s party was in full swing and everyone was here. Even Clay Jensen came, to most people’s surprise.
“(Y/N), I’m good. I’ve been drinking Coke all night. I’ll see you in a few. I love you.”
I sighed as I looked up at his beaming face, “okay, fine. I’ll see you in twenty. Drive safe, I love you too.” I kissed him softly and watched as he jogged out to the car to run to Blue Spot. I decided to go off in search of my friends and found them in the kitchen, arguing with Scott and Monty about who should get the last beer.
“Ah, finally. Someone who can break the stalemate. (Y/N), who do you think should get it?” Scott asked me.
“Easy. Me.” I smiled, taking the bottle from the table and opening it.
“But- you… you don’t even like beer.” Layla stuttered.
“I know, but it saves me from watching the four of you argue until Jeff gets back. I’m sure you can last,” I checked my watch, “fourteen minutes without a beer.” The boys groaned and Layla turned to Katie, sighing dramatically. I shook my head as I walked away.
I was alone for a while, just wandering the house. I had seen Clay run out of the party a while ago, followed by Sherri and Hannah a while after that. I played with my necklace, a gift from Jeff for our first anniversary, just people watching, the bottle of Coors still full in my hand. My phone buzzing in my pocket pulled me from my thoughts. “hello?” I asked, not bothering to look at who was calling. I assumed it was Jeff calling to confirm how much beer he needed to get.
“(Y/N)? (Y/N/N)- you- oh fuck.”
“Who is this?”
“I-it’s Clay. (Y/N) you… oh god. I called 911 already. There’s been an accident.” No. No no no. Please don’t say what I think you’re about to say. “J-Jeff.” His voice cracked. I heard sirens in the distance. I felt as though I was frozen. “Th-the police are here; they want to talk to me. They’re calling his parents. Oh god (Y/N/N). I have to go.”
“Clay. Clay wait. What happe-.” I tried to ask. He hung up before I could get any words out. It was almost like I had an out of body experience. I lowered my phone and felt the full bottle fall from my grip, shattering on the floor. No one was around to notice, or at least, I couldn’t see if there was. I had tunnel vision. Jeff… he can’t… no.
I blinked quickly a few times to try and make my vision normal, as well as keeping the welling tears from falling. Need to find sports boy. I couldn’t think of the proper words. Walking back towards the kitchen, I scanned the room for someone in a varsity jacket or a face I could identify as an athlete, hell, I scanned for Monty’s plaid shirt. Something like this should trump the stupid fight we had earlier today. I spotted him over by the fridge, talking to some girl. “Monty.” I said quietly as I approached him. He didn’t hear me. “Monty.” I tried again, a little louder. He still didn’t hear me, or he heard me and chose to ignore it. “Montgomery.” I said louder, my voice cracking and placing a hand on his bicep. He froze for a second.
“One second.” He told the girl he was putting the moves on. I watched him turn to face me. As soon as he saw my face, his mouth closed, and his brow furrowed. “(Y/N), are you okay?” Monty asked me, his eyes softening and his demeanor changing almost immediately. I couldn’t get any words out now that I had found someone to tell. I just shook my head and waved my arms awkwardly. “(Y/N/N), did something happen? What happened?”
I opened my mouth and my voice cracked. It felt like my throat was trying to open around a peach pit. “J-Jeff….” Was all I could say. My face crumpled and my eyes squeezed shut, trying my damnedest to keep from crying or screaming. “He… there was an accident.” Monty’s entire face dropped.
“What kind of accident?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s good Monty. We have to… I have to….” I trailed off, trying to find the words to explain that we needed to leave.
“(Y/N) you need to breathe. Let’s go find the guys. Come on.” He said, his face hardening as he pulled me along beside him. I turned to look at the girl he walked away from. She looked royally miffed.
“Scott. Where’s Bryce?” Monty asked his friend. I stood behind him, clutching his shirt tightly to keep myself upright. Had it been any other time, I think he would have minded.
“I don’t know, I think he went upstairs. Why?”
“We need to go.”
Scott looked between Monty and I. “Uh… do you need permission to leave now or something?”
“No Scott. We need to go.” Scott looked at me again and he seemed to register the look on my face as not simply having too much to drink. Monty leaned forward to whisper something to Scott. His eyes widened and he sucked in a deep breath.
“Okay. Uh… I’m good to drive, so you go upstairs and look for Bryce and Justin and whoever else. I’ll take (Y/N) to the car.” I clutched Monty’s shirt tighter.
“(Y/N), you need to let go. I’ll be right back. Go with Scott.” He told me, prying my fingers off his person. I heard myself hum and felt Scott guide me out to the car.
He opened the door and guided me to sit down in the passenger seat. “Do you want some water?” he asked, squatting down to my level. I nodded and he went around to the driver’s side. I turned to watch him root around in his gym bag for a water bottle. He walked back around to me and handed me the fresh bottle. I opened it and took a small sip. He watched me, steadying it when I shook too much. My phone rang again, and I looked down to see who it was. Jeff’s mom was calling. “Hello?” I asked, timidly.
“(Y/N)? Darling, you need to come to the hospital. There was an accident.” She told me, her voice shaking. I could tell she was trying to get the words out without crying.
“I know. Clay called me. We will be there soon.” I looked up as I saw the group of athletes walking out, confused and somber looks on their faces. Scott waved them over. “Okay. We are on our way to the regional hospital. Let one of us know when you get there and we will come down to get you.”
I nodded before realizing that she couldn’t see me. “Mhmm. I will.” I squeaked before hanging up. I felt several dozen eyes on me as I stared at my lap. “They’re going to the regional hospital.” Was all I said as I turned myself forward and shut the door. It was quiet for a few moments before Scott came around and started the car.
Neither of us spoke until we were about halfway to the hospital. I felt my stomach churn the closer we got. “You need to pull over.” I told Scott stiffly.
“You okay (Y/N)?” he asked, his eyes darting to me and back to the road.
“Pull over now.” I ground out, trying to keep from heaving.
“Okay, just a second.” He signalled to pull over and stopped the car. In a matter of seconds, I had the door open and was hunched over on the side of the road, throwing up in the ditch. Diego and Monty pulled over as well when they saw me, and I heard Diego call from the Jeep.
“Is she okay? Or like… she’s okay?”
I groaned. “I’ve got her, you guys go on ahead.” Scott called back. I wiped my mouth and stood up straight, sending Monty a thumbs up. He nodded and merged back into traffic. I walked back to the car, taking a gulp of water, swishing and spitting it on the road.
“We can go.” I said and it was quiet again.
Arriving at the hospital and calling Jeff’s mom was a blur. It was also a blur waiting for the doctor and watching his parents argue that I should be there to hear what was happening. I stared at the wall blankly while I waited for news. Some of the guys whispered around me, others prayed, others like me, stared blankly. Finally, the doctor agreed to let me listen and I walked over at the wave of a nurse. The nurse took me into the small room I remembered being in when I was young, and my grandma had passed.
“Mr. and Mrs. Atkins, Miss (Y/L/N). I am very sorry to have to tell you this, but Jeff passed away at the scene of the accident. I am sorry for your loss.” I closed my eyes as his mom dropped to the floor and screamed. His dad dropped and pulled his distraught wife into his arms. I took a breath and turned to run from the room. I ran down the hall, ignoring the group in the waiting room. “(Y/N), wait.” I heard someone call behind me. I ignored them. I also ignored the footsteps following me. I have to get out of here was running over and over in my head. I stopped running when I got outside and bent over, placing my hands on my knees. I gulped the air, trying to slow my heartrate and put off the impending breakdown.
“(Y/N)?” a voice spoke from behind me. I shook my head. I knew who was talking to me, but I couldn’t make myself speak. “Come here.” Bryce said gently, as though I was a fawn he was trying to approach without spooking. I still couldn’t say anything. His hand gently touched my back and rubbed in circles. I began to stand up and his arms immediately went around my middle to support my weight in the event that I couldn’t stand up. He held me for a few minutes, while I shook and tried not to cry. I noticed Justin standing at the doors with a broken yet menacing look on his face.
“He’s gone.” I whispered quietly into the blond’s shoulder.
“I know. Let’s go back inside, yeah? Get you some water and have someone take you home?” I hummed as he tucked me under his shoulder, supporting my weight.
The group of heartbroken boys were still in the waiting room with Jeff’s parents. I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact with them. Monty walked up to Bryce and took me from him.
“I’ll take her home.”
“Stay with her.” Diego told him, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing. Monty nodded and took his flannel off, wrapping me up in it. I took one last look at his parents before turning and walking away, not daring to think of how I was going to have to begin the grieving process for my boyfriend.
I walked up to the school doors on Monday morning and stood there, just looking at it. I was early so there weren’t many people outside, but those who were, stared at me and whispered to each other. Jeff’s baseball shirt hung off my thin frame and my black yoga pants hugged my curves, hidden by the shirt. It seemed to be bigger than it was a few days ago. “Are you going to go inside, or do you want to cut today?” Monty asked from behind me.
I jumped slightly. “I’ll be there in a minute. I have to be here today.”
“Okay. I’ll wait with you.” He stood beside me quietly until I was ready to walk in. I took a step forward and then another, and another. He fell into step beside me. People stared as I walked in. I guess I should get used to it.Principal Bolan and Mr. Porter were waiting for me at the main office.
“(Y/N), if there is anything the school can do, just let me know and I will handle it.” The principal said. Yeah, sure you will.
“Thank you.” I replied, quietly. He nodded and walked back into his office. The appeasing statement has been made. Let’s not appear to care too much.
“(Y/N), you don’t need to be here today. You’ve suffered a great loss. Your teachers would understand why you weren’t here.” Mr. Porter offered.
I stared at him. Is he serious? “I know you’re trying to help and that’s great. But I do need to be here today.” I explained.
“Why?”
“I heard he was drinking, and she let him get in the car anyway.” A girl I had never met muttered to her friend as she passed me. Monty must have seen my features darken and he placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing. I gestured to Mr. Porter.
“That is why. I need to get ahead of this. Jeff is-,” I caught myself, “was a wonderful and well-loved young man, but the kids at this school don’t care about that. If I wasn’t here, the rumors would be even worse.”
Mr. Porter nodded; he had been here long enough to know how people were. “Alright, but if you want to talk or decide you need to go home, come let me know.” I nodded at him and together, Monty and I walked to my locker.
“Did he really say, ‘you don’t need to be here today’? Like he actually fucking said that?” I asked.
“Yup. I heard it too.” Monty said, shaking his head. Clay stopped us in the hall, and I tried to smile at him. It came out as more of a grimace.
“Hey Clay. How’re you doing?”
“I don’t know. How are you doing?”
“I changed my shirt this morning. So that’s something I guess.” I shrugged.
“I’m really sorry (Y/N).”
“I know. Me too. Jeff really liked you, you know.”
“Yeah.” Neither of us knew what else to say. “I uh… I’ll see you around?”
“You will. Let me know if,” I paused, “if you want to talk sometime.”
“Okay.” He nodded before making his way to wherever it is that Clay Jensen spends his time. I tried to ignore the whispers as I sighed.
“This day isn’t going to get any easier.” I muttered. Monty shrugged as we walked. No one else really said anything to me as we walked, all of them grieving in their own ways.
“She isn’t left alone today, okay?” I heard Bryce tell the rest of the athletes, who had crowded around my locker. I had to stop myself from speaking up and telling him that I’m not a child and I can take care of myself. Instead, I readjusted my bag on my shoulder.
“Hey Bryce. Guys.” I greeted somberly.
“Hey (Y/N).” Bryce greeted, equally as somberly. He pulled me into a slightly awkward but understandable hug. Bryce hugs people when they aren’t in shock? This is probably one of the strangest interactions I’ve had with Bryce Walker since… ever. I wasn’t sure what to do so I just patted his back gently. He pulled away and the group made room for me to get to my locker.
“You can all stop staring at me any time. It’s kind of creepy.” I said as I gathered my things. “I know this is a hard day for all of us, but that doesn’t mean you need to stare like everyone else.” When I turned back, they were still looking at me. “Seriously, stop. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I will however, go to my stupid physics class and learn about the laws of motion.” I put my textbooks in my bag and began walking away from my friends. When I didn’t hear any of them following, I turned around. “You coming Diego? Hutcher will get all bent out of shape if we are late, even under these circumstances.”
“I guess so, yeah.” He mumbled, confused before quickly catching up with me.
Between the sad looks from teachers, the boys and their girlfriends following me everywhere, and the whispers from students, my patience with today was beginning to wear thin. It was around lunch time when I heard two girls talking to each other. They must not have noticed I was walking past.
“She really seems to be milking this grieving girlfriend thing.”
“Lizzie, it’s been three days, give her a break. I wonder what it was like. Must have been-.” I had finally had enough.
“What what was like? What part would you like to know about? The part where I begged him not to leave? Or when I got a phone call from a kid freaking out? Would you like to know about what it was like gathering all the guy at that party and going to the hospital? Because it turns out a brother dying sobers you up pretty quick.” I paused and looked at their expressions. “No. No you don’t want to know about that. You want to know what it was like listening to his mom scream and cry and beg God to bring her son back. You want to hear about how I haven’t eaten in three days because I’ve been crying so much I can’t keep food down. And how everyone is staring at me and whispering because apparently Jeff Atkins’ death is inconvenient for them.” Before I could continue, I felt arms going around my waist and I was being pulled back.
“Easy there Ticat.” Scott Reed spoke into my ear. I struggled for a moment and he wrapped his arms around my waist tighter. Finally, I relaxed, and he let go. I watched him turn to the girls.
“She lost her boyfriend three fucking days ago. We lost a brother. Have some goddamn respect.” He scoffed and shook his head as he grabbed the bag I dropped and led me towards the door. The girls looked as though he slapped them as we walked away. He passed me his phone as we walked. “Call Monty.” I did as he said and put it on speaker.
“Hello?” Monty answered.
“Hey. I’m taking (Y/N) home.”
“Why? Is she okay?” He asked.
“She is. At least as okay as we can expect. It’s everyone else that’s the problem.” He grumbled.
“What happened?”
“I’ll explain later. Tell Porter she had to go home for me?”
“I will. Keep me posted?”
“Will do. Bye.” He took the phone from my hand and hung up. We had arrived at his car and he seemed to have calmed down a bit. “So, home?” I blinked at him, not totally understanding the question. “Where do you live?” He clarified, slowly.
“Oh uh… just off Lincoln and sixth.” I replied. He nodded and got in the car. I followed suit and stared out the windshield. “That was… something.”
“Yeah well it’s been a long day.”
“I think they’ll be long for a while.”
“Me too.” He replied, sadly. “You don’t want to go home do you?” he asked, suddenly. I was quiet for a while before answering.
“Not really no. My parents are at work and they’ve just been hovering since Monty brought me home. But it’s so quiet.”
“I can stay if you want. I’m not the greatest cook in the world but I can manage soup broth.”
“You don’t want to go home?”
“No. Bryce may be a dick a lot of the time, but he’s right. You shouldn’t be left alone today. And I can guarantee that I am far better company than some of the other guys. We don’t have to talk or anything. If you’re not comfortable with that, I can call Monty back or one of your other, uh… friends?”
“You mean Layla and Katie? They aren’t really my friends. Have you seen or heard from them today at all? Because I haven’t.”
“I haven’t. Why do you hang out with them then?”
“Why do you spend time with Bryce Walker, Scott?”
“Fair point.” He replied, dropping the subject.
We got closer to my house and I spoke again. “It’s the slightly darker grey one up ahead here.”
“As opposed to the slightly lighter grey houses?” Scott joked. It was a really bad joke, but I felt myself start to smile slightly for the first time in days.
“Well, yeah.” I stated, biting the inside of my lip slightly to keep a straight face. He must have caught himself smiling slightly too because he quickly relaxed his face back to the somewhat somber expression, we all wore today.
“Heard that one before?”
“Yeah. Jeff joked about it a lot.” I smiled sadly at the memory. We were silent again as he pulled into my driveway and we walked to the door. Our stuff was arranged neatly by the door and we made our way through the house to the kitchen. Evidently, he wasn’t kidding about the soup thing.
“Okay, where do you keep your pots?” He asked, clapping his hands together.
“Bottom cupboard by the stove.” I pointed. I’m really not hungry and this really isn’t a good idea. He nodded and set to work searching the kitchen for ingredients.
I decided to leave him be as he fell into what was clearly his zone. When I was upstairs, I decided it might be time to have a shower and clean some of the sadness off of me. It doesn’t work like that (Y/N). I shook my head. You think I don’t know that? I just need to do something that feels normal. Once I was showered and changed into a clean sweatshirt and bike shorts, I made my way downstairs. At the sound of my footsteps, Scott looked up. “I made you a sandwich. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want, but it’s there.” I nodded and sat at the island in front of the bowl of hot soup broth. I took a timid sip from my spoon and sighed. This is really good.
“Thank you.” I muttered quietly. He nodded at me as he took a bite of his own sandwich. We ate in silence across from each other. Scott wasn’t lying when he said we didn’t have to talk if I didn’t want to. Once our lunch was done, he pulled out a notebook and did some homework at the table while I turned on the tv at a low volume, pretending to be interested in some soap opera that had been on longer than I’d been alive. Just like this morning, I pretended not to notice his not so discreet looks to check on me. He didn’t leave until just before my mom got home from work. We bid each other a slightly awkward goodbye and I breathed a sigh of relief that I could finally be alone for a few minutes.
The next couple of days at school weren’t much better. Bryce was still being… nice, which I found slightly odd. It wasn’t nice in a creepy way or anything like that. He seemed to genuinely be nice. He walked me to my first class since his was next door, keeping a respectable distance between us at all times. If he saw me in the halls, he would wave at me or nod in acknowledgement. At first, I thought he was being weird, but when I talked to Monty about it, he just shrugged. “This might be how he’s choosing to grieve. Focus on being nice to you and making sure you know someone is there.”
“I get that, but its Bryce. Usually when he’s nice to a girl….”
“I know. He’s annoying and says stupid shit. But he’s my best friend. I know him. He’s actually trying to be nice to you. Jeff was his friend.”
I sighed. “Okay. I’m not going to start hanging out with him or anything though. If he’s your best friend, what does that make me?”
“My person or whatever.” He muttered, going back to his geometry problem.
“I knew you paid attention when we watched that.” I muttered as I went back to my biology notes.
The stares weren’t much different, but it seemed like it had started really setting in for people by now. Jeff Atkins, one of their classmates, their idols, their friend, was gone. The snarky whispers stopped, but I wasn’t sure if that was because of my outburst on Monday morning or not. I noticed Hannah Baker watching me at my locker during breaks, but I didn’t pay much mind to it. She’s the girl Clay is in love with and Jeff wanted them to get together sure, but that girl had more going on than met the eye. Jessica and Justin seemed more lovey than usual which sucked to watch but whatever works for them I suppose. Justin and Bryce’s relationship seemed kind of off, but I attributed it to some stupid high school bullshit or having different ways of dealing with death. Diego and I hadn’t ever been super close or friendly at all, but he was friends with Jeff and Monty, so I had been around him. When we stopped to talk in the halls or anything, he talked to me just like he always had. We kept it to small talk and school related topics. I was grateful he wasn’t walking on eggshells and trying not to say the wrong thing.
Scott Reed was the one person I couldn’t wrap my head around though. We were kind of sort of friends. More than acquaintances, but not friends, friends. More, you’re friends with my boyfriend and best friend so that’s something, friends. We had also worked on group projects together in the past. He seemed to be stuck between trying to help me and being scared to talk to me. I would catch him looking at me from his locker but he would look away quickly in the mornings, but then at lunch or when the halls were quiet, he would try to make me smile or laugh. It was very confusing, especially with my head being so clouded by grief. I knew he wasn’t trying to make any moves or anything. It’s probably just the way he’s processing things. Maybe he’s trying to avoid the issue and this is how he wants to do it. We didn’t mention our afternoon at my house on Monday, nor did he insert himself into any grief related outbursts that may or may not have occurred in the last few days. You need to stop thinking so much. This is too much to deal with right now.
** **
I hadn’t retained anything we had talked about in school this week. I was too busy dreading this day. I stared at the classic black dress hanging on the door of my closet. It stared back, mockingly. I was in my room, hair freshly curled and pulled out of my face, neutral makeup on, doing all I could to not think about what my plans for the day were going to be just over a week ago. It was shocking how fast plans could change. Instead of a relaxing walk and maybe a game of catch with my boyfriend before dinner, I was getting dressed for his funeral. I rolled my eyes up to try to keep the tears at bay for just a little longer. A knock at my door redirected my attention. “Hey.” Monty said from the door. He leaned against the door frame, likely wrinkling his black suit.
“Hey.” I replied. I sighed and shook my head.
“Are we getting dressed or are we going to stand here hoping it dresses you on its own?” he asked, stepping into my room.
“I don’t know.”
“Your folks are downstairs waiting for you.”
“That’s good.”
“Do you want a drink?” I turned around to face him as he pulled a silver flask out of his inside jacket pocket.
“No. Need to be sober for this.”
He nodded and took a swig of whatever it contained. Today wasn’t the day to argue with him about drinking before eleven. “Do you need help with the dress or are you good?”
“I think I’ll need you to zip it up.” I muttered, motioning for him to sit on my bed as I took the dress off its hanger, going into my closet to change. I didn’t look in the mirror as I passed it on the way to my bed. He zipped it up deftly. I again, decided not to make a comment about how he wasn’t usually zipping dresses up.With that taken care of, I slipped on my black pumps and turned around to look in the mirror. “Do I look okay Monty?” I asked, pulling on my sleeves slightly, trying to cover up a little more. He placed his hand on mine to stop me.
“You look beautiful (Y/N). Stop fiddling with it and let’s go downstairs.”
“I don’t want to.” I replied, my voice cracking. Don’t cry. Do not cry.
“I know. But we need to.” He sighed. “Everyone will be there. If it makes you feel better, I can even talk to the Jensen kid.”
“Clay. And I don’t know if it would honestly.” Before we went downstairs, I asked him, “can I take you up on your offer of flask juice?”
“Not right now. You said you have to stay sober for this.”
I sighed for what felt like the millionth time today and walked downstairs, clutching the railing as I went so that I didn’t topple over.
Jeff’s parents asked if I wanted to come early so I could have some alone time to say goodbye to Jeff. When we arrived at the church, his parents, the Priest, and the funeral director met us out front. Jeff’s dad pulled me into a tight hug and whispered apologies in my ear. I rubbed his back softly and apologised back. His mom was quick to pull me in as well. “I’ll always consider you akin to a daughter, (Y/N).” She whispered. I had to fight back tears when she squeezed tighter before letting me go.
“I’m very sorry for your loss.” Father Carmichael said as he took my hand gently. They were warmer than I expected for a man his age.
“Thank you.” I mumbled. The sentiment was shared by the funeral director and I was ushered off to the waiting hearse. The back door was opened, and I stared at the shiny walnut casket filling the space. It almost didn’t believe what I was seeing. It didn’t seem real. I placed a hand on the varnished wood, noting how smooth it felt.
“This can’t be happening.” I muttered softly. I paused to wait for a response I knew would never come. “We promised each other we would have forever.” There was more I wanted to say but the tears were becoming impossible to stop. I hoped that he knew everything I wanted to say already. I wiped my tears quickly before turning around and waiting for the pallbearers to arrive. We were ushered into the church before other people arrived.
“(Y/N), would you like to sit with the family? You practically are to us.” Jeff’s mom asked as my parents went to get some water.
“Umm,” I paused and turned to Monty. He shrugged and nodded. “I guess that would be okay.” I replied, not completely sure of my answer.
“Alright sweetie.” She hugged me again and turned as the pallbearers began arriving. I watched on as the funeral director explained procedure to them. His parents and I were led out of the church once again to follow the casket into the chapel.
The church was packed full. I could hear the quiet loud of a large group chattering with one another at the door. I quickly shut the door on the original idea of a large gathering in this little church. Oh, how that day would have been so different than today. My dad wouldn’t already be seated inside, I wouldn’t be wearing black, Jeff would be standing at the alter instead of…. Suddenly we were watching the group of young men carry the heavy casket up the church steps. His cousins were trying to keep their tears in but couldn’t help the few that slid out. His uncle had tears streaming down his face. I took a deep breath and began following his mom and dad into the church. When I got to the doors leading to the chapel, I froze. I couldn’t make my feet move. Once again, I was bombarded with what should have been. I could feel people’s eyes on me but try as I might, I simply could not move. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement coming around the last pew. Scott was standing at my side in a moment.
“One foot in front of the other.” He muttered as he held his arm out slightly. I grasped it, probably too tightly, but he didn’t even flinch. Together, he walked me towards the alter. I didn’t bother to think about what people would say about it. People here weren’t that callous. I took my seat and took a deep breath as he quickly made his way back to his seat.
Father Carmichael performed a wonderful service for Jeff. I felt tears streaming down my face the whole time. When it was over, I excused myself to the washroom to fix my makeup and have a moment to myself. As expected, Monty was waiting for me when I was done. Not as expected, was the addition of Scott waiting with him. I cleared my throat and pointed to my face. “You’re good.” Monty said, after a quick once over.
“Okay.” I nodded. I turned my attention to Scott. “um… thank you. For what you did in there.” I told him, awkwardly.
“It was no problem. That couldn’t have been easy.” He said. I shook my head. It wasn’t.
“Are we going to Jeff’s after this?” Monty asked me. I paused. I should. I really should go. I just don’t know if I can.
“I don’t… know?” I hesitated.
“You could show up for a few minutes, make a quick round, and say you need to be alone.” Scott suggested. I looked up at him. Could I really do that?
“That’s not actually a bad idea.” Monty replied, rubbing his jaw in thought. “We could go to the docks afterwards.”
“Flask empty yet?” I asked.
“(Y/N) (Y/L/N). We are in a church.” He gasped, scandalously.
“I don’t mean for now. And that’s rich coming from you. When was the last time you cracked open your Bible Montgomery?” He was silent and avoided eye contact. “Exactly.”
“It’s not. But it’s not like we can’t refill it if we need to.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” I nodded. I put on another brave face as we walked out of the church on the way to the grave site to lay Jeff to rest.
We made a quick appearance at the house, during which Bryce gave me another sad hug and I smiled awkwardly at people when they gave me the look I had become so familiar with in the last week. I was able to excuse myself and leave quietly with Monty and Scott in tow. The three of us made our way to the docks, after a quick stop at my place for a flask refill and extra bottle of vodka. I sat on the railing, staring out at the ocean, blankly. My companions flanked me on either side. The metal flask was passed silently between us until it was decided that I was “thoroughly fucked up” as Monty put it. The burn of the alcohol had stopped bothering me long before that.
“I cannot deny that statement.” I said, watching the waves.
“Ready to go home then (Y/N/N)?”
I turned my head to face him with wide eyes, “no. What do you think my parents would say if I showed up at home drunk?”
“Today?” Scott asked.
“I think, given the day you’ve had, they would understand. Plus, you were hanging out with me so they know you’re safe.” Monty shrugged.
“It’s the middle of the day. And you have been drinking since before eleven. There is no way you can drive right now.” I closed my eyes to stop the spinning in my head.
“I can drive. I haven’t had that much to drink.” Scott offered. It was true. He spent most of his time with the flask, holding it in his hand.
“See? Scott can drive. It’ll be fine. But if you scratch my car, I’ll beat you.” Monty threatened.
“Sure, you will Monty.” Scott laughed. We spent the rest of the day driving around town until I sobered up enough to go home, where I fell asleep as soon as I laid on my bed.
OCTOBER/NOVEMBER
The rest of September and much of October went by in a blur. I often found myself wondering if this was going to be my life now. Was I always going to be the girl whose boyfriend died? The staring stopped after a few weeks. And a couple of weeks after that, people started to move on. It was deemed socially acceptable for everyone else to continue living their lives. Sheri Holland stopped making weird eye contact with me. I wonder what that is about. Clay had seemed to stop openly pining over Hannah Baker. The guys were able to find ways to fill their time without being upset about Jeff. Everything was so… normal. The only person who wasn’t allowed to move on, it seemed, was me.
Everything was normal. Until Hannah Baker’s suicide. In the span of two months, Liberty had lost two students. Being a year older than her, we seemed to be more removed from the situation. It was still sad though. Especially when I watched how it was impacting Clay Jensen. Jeff had taken the boy under his wing while he was being tutored. I had asked him about it one night while we were on a date. Jeff had replied in his usual, happy go lucky glass half full tone, that “Clay is helping me with my grades and I’m helping him with Hannah. They’re good for each other.” I smiled fondly at the memory. Things were so much simpler then. People still looked at me in the halls. They still whispered when I passed. It became easier to ignore them. The drunk driving posters which had upset me so much when they were posted because I knew that Jeff wasn’t drinking that night, were replaced with suicide prevention posters. For the majority of my fellow seniors, Hannah Baker was just a girl. For me, she was just a girl. A girl who my late boyfriend tried to set up with his friend. It was tragic. But in my mind, it paled in comparison to the tragedy I had experienced only a month earlier.
Eventually, everyone else had gone back to normal. Except for Scott Reed. We had never really been friends. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. And while I appreciated what he did for me, both at school and at the funeral, we didn’t talk about it. He still didn’t really say a whole lot to me. Yet somehow, he was always just… there. I would catch him watching me. Or I would notice his ears perk up when I was mentioned as the guys passed me in the halls. Montgomery of all people even noticed. “You know, Scott was asking about you at practice the other day. What’s going on there (Y/N/N)?” He mentioned to me in the library one day. I merely shrugged and waved it off.
“He hasn’t really talked to me, so I don’t know.”
**
He was watching me again. His eyes followed me as I grabbed a book for my paper in the library. Stare at me any harder and you might set me on fire. Rolling my eyes, I turned and plastered on my best and brightest smile. Scott looked down and suddenly became very interested in his own book when he noticed me walking towards him. I pulled out the chair across from him and leaned in. “What’s your deal, Scott?”
“My deal?” he said into his book.
“Why are you staring at me? And why do you act like you aren’t?”
“I don’t stare at you (Y/N).”
“Then what do you call watching someone from across the hall and across rooms? Hmmm?”
“I uh… don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Monty said you’ve been asking about me.”
He looked up. “He did?”
“Yeah. So, I’ll ask again, what is your deal?”
“Nothing.” He pushed his book aside.
“Sure. Whatever.” I huffed. Pulling out my books, I got comfortable. I’m already sitting here. Might as well take advantage. We were quiet for a while. He was trying not to watch me study. This is the most normal thing I’ve experienced in at least the last month.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Oh.”
“He was my friend (Y/N).”
“I know. Thank you. For what you did for me. I realized I never said it before.”
“No problem.” The bell rang. Packing up our stuff, we wordlessly bid each other goodbye and went our separate ways.
That day in the library wasn’t the only time Scott and I studied together after that. One of us would find the other sitting alone at a table or looking for something in an aisle. Our interactions were mostly wordless. A nod here and there when we sat down. Maybe the odd whispered question about homework. A shared chuckle about something we read. We never talked about Jeff again though. It was too hard. Still too fresh for both of us.
Around the middle of November, our silent study sessions began to change. They got a little less quiet. It was like we were walking on soft dirt ground rather than eggshells. We started bringing snacks. “What’s in the bag today Har?”
“Mini pancakes, chocolate chips, and banana protein bites.” I said, as I opened the containers. I set them in the middle of the table so we could both reach. We were studying quietly, both of us focused on our respective assignments. I could feel his eyes on me.
“I thought we were past this Scotty.” I muttered, smiling into my book. It was Thursday. I did English homework in the library on Thursdays.
“Old habits and all.”
“Mhmm. Right.”
“Actually (Y/N)?”
“Yes Scott?”
“Did you want to grab a coffee at Monet’s or something later?” I stopped writing. His question caught me off guard. “As friends, obviously.” He added when he noticed my hesitation.
“Sure. Say 4:30?”
“4:30 works.”
“Okay.”
I met Scott at Monet’s just after 4:30. We had both gotten stuck behind the same accident. He held the door open for me and even conceded when I suggested we pay separately since it wasn’t a date. I got a triple americano with cream and he got a drip coffee with milk.
“It’s like quarter to five in the afternoon (Y/N).”
“I know. But this is my order.” Jeff did the same thing.
“I’m not judging.”
“It seems like you’re judging a little.” I smiled.
“Swear I’m not.” He chuckled. I nodded and took a sip of my coffee. We sat at an open booth near the coffee bar. It was far enough away from the table Jeff and I used to sit at that it felt okay to sit at.
Neither of us really knew where to start in a conversation. The ten minutes of silence we sat in, made it exceedingly clear that all we really had in common was Jeff and some shared classes. I decided to break the ice. “Aside from football, baseball, and making soup, what else do you like to do for fun?”
“Video games but I don’t think that’s the answer you’re looking for. Hmm. I like driving into the city to go to the movie theater and seeing whatever is playing next.”
“No, it wasn’t. Expected that answer. Random movies sounds cool.”
“Yeah. What about you?”
“I volunteer at the local animal shelter. What’s the weirdest movie you’ve ever seen doing that?”
“Central Intelligence, easy. It came out last year. It wasn’t a bad movie exactly. The Rock and Kevin Hart were in it. Just not my thing.”
“Huh. I heard about that one. My cousin went to see it. She didn’t like it much either.”
“Glad to know I’m not alone. What do you do at the shelter?”
“Oh, you know, walk the dogs and puppies. Pet the cats. Clean up the odd accident. Aside from that last one, it’s pretty nice. It’s the best when you see a friend who’s been there for a while or longer, finally get their forever family and forever home.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that like?”
“It’s hard to describe. Most of the dogs get this smile and almost are able to breathe normally again. The cats get cozy in their carriers or their box. It’s really adorable. They’re content.”
“That sounds like it’s really rewarding.”
“It is. You could swing by sometime if you want. See the animals.”
He seemed skeptical and I was worried I had overstepped. I know it’s been a while since I’ve dated, but this is just as friends. So I shouldn’t be worried about overstepping. “Are you sure that’s okay? Like you’re allowed to do that?” Oh, I see. That’s a relief.
“For sure. It gives them a chance to socialize. Don’t worry, the dogs and cats that have issues with people aren’t ready to be put on the adoption list or in the adoption section until they’re able to be around people safely. Any interaction with strangers is beneficial too so they aren’t as freaked when people come to look at them to potentially adopt. Plus, who doesn’t love to play with puppies and kittens?”
He laughed heartily. “I’ll think about it. Might have to take you up on your offer. What about the other animals?”
“Oh, I’m not really comfortable handling the birds and stuff so I kind of stay away from there. It’s not a problem for the shelter. They don’t want you to be uncomfortable or afraid.”
“That makes sense. You can tag along for a random movie sometime if you want.”
It was my turn to be slightly taken aback. “I’ll think about it. It sounds like a lot of fun.”
“Did you finish that already?” He nodded towards my now empty mug.
“Yes. It was delicious.”
Scott chuckled to himself softly. We still weren’t sure what to talk about, because we didn’t know what we had in common aside from Jeff and school. Somehow, we found things to talk about and the hour we expected turned into two. He looked at his watch. “My folks are expecting me for dinner in approximately no minutes. I should get going.” I checked my phone and my brows rose.
“I should get going too. Before they send the cavalry to find me.”
“Library tomorrow?”
“Yeah, sure Scott. I’ll see you there.” On my way home, I realized that for the first time in months, I hardly thought about Jeff this afternoon.
Our study sessions changed again after our not a date just friends’ coffee. Things were less awkward, and it seemed like we had found our footing for the most part. We talked to each other in the halls more and Scott had finally stopped watching me like a hawk. We were even cracking jokes with each other. He had begun treating me like everyone else was. Like I wasn’t going to break if he or someone else said the wrong thing. Like I was (Y/N) and not the girl whose boyfriend died.
DECEMBER
I arrived at school later than usual on a Tuesday morning. It had been a little under three weeks since our coffee not date. I immediately noticed Scott at his locker. His bag was slung over one shoulder and he was wearing his varsity jacket. He was talking to Mike. Mike was a senior in my Spanish class. I didn’t really know him all that well outside of that. I didn’t realize they were friends. When I walked past his locker, I overheard them talking about me.
“Why don’t you go for it and ask her?”
“I don’t know man. She’s really great and all but….”
“She was Jeff’s girlfriend. I get it.”
“He was my friend. I don’t want to overstep.”
“I know.” Mike said. I wanted to hear more of what they were saying so I bent down and undid the heel strap on my wedges. I fiddled with it while they talked. “This is going to sound horrible. I realize that so don’t hate me. I miss him as much as the next guy. I really do. But… Jeff isn’t here anymore, Scott. He’s gone.” You’re right Mike. That is horrible. “There isn’t really a line to overstep. It’s not like anyone can do anything to fix it. It just… is.”
“But do I want to be the guy who asks his dead friend’s girlfriend on a date?” A date? My cheeks flared. I couldn’t say that the idea hadn’t crossed my mind that Scott was an option. I had just felt absolutely terrible for it as soon as I did.
“Maybe you need to be. Maybe that could help both of you.”
“Help us what Mike?” Scott asked, the unease clear in his tone.
“Help you move…” Mike paused, “on isn’t the right word. Forward? That sounds better. Help you move forward. She needs someone and from what I’ve seen, she has Monty, those two girls who basically stopped talking to her after Jeff died, a couple of randoms she doesn’t seem to like that much, the baseball team-but it seems like they keep her around out of pity. And you. She has you.”
“And how would asking her on a date help me?”
“You have Monty, Charlie, and the baseball team. You think I think you like the rest of the team?”
“No.” He admitted.
“Exactly. And you have her. Jeff was your friend. He was her boyfriend. And he died. You both need someone to get through that. Because going through it when you feel like you’re alone, sucks. Besides, (Y/N) doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to stop being friends with someone if they ask her out and she isn’t interested in that. So, either way, she won’t not be in your life.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Course I am. Now, go. Go shoot your shot. I gotta get to math.”
My eyes widened when their conversation ended abruptly like that. I wasn’t prepared. Quickly, I stood and sped off to my own locker. I had barely had time to open it and pretend to look for something before Scott was behind me. “Hey Ticat.”
“Oh, uh. Hey Scott.”
“Whatcha looking for?”
“Book for English.”
“Cool, cool.”
“Mhmm.” Oh my God this is awkward. Please don’t ask. I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. Someone pulled my attention away before Scott could say anything else.
“(Y/N)!”
“What?”
“Monty and Alex just got into it in the parking lot. You have to come see this.” Once again this morning, my eyes widened. They’ll probably stick like this if it happens again today.
“I’ll be right there.” I turned to Scott, abandoning my bogus search, “I uh… I need to go take care of that. I don’t know if I’ll be able to study today.” Or tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that.
“No problem. Go. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay, text me.” I called as I ran off.
I skipped our study sessions for the next week and I was cautious with our texts. It was like we were back at the beginning of our friendship. Could you even call it a friendship? Well, technically Friday wasn’t skipping. I had a doctor’s appointment. Scott didn’t appear to pick up on the change though. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was oblivious, like most other boys, or if he was just as freaked out as I was by the idea of dating. I used the time in the week that I should have been studying and would have been spending with Scott, to think about him. I thought about how easy our conversations had become and how comfortable and normal I felt with him. The way his piercing blue eye shone when he laughed. Or the way they narrowed slightly when he was silently judging some stupid comment his friends made. About how white his teeth were. The way he smiled when he finished a difficult homework problem. About how soft his hair looked. Oh dear. I’ve got it bad.
I texted Scott the next morning. Library this afternoon? He answered about half an hour later, while I was eating breakfast.
Sure. I’ll save you a seat.
Cool. I have leftover chocolate chip cookies.
In free period, I found Scott at a table in the corner of the library. His stuff was spread out on what looked like exactly half of it. There was a clear divide of where his stuff ended and where the free area was. Did he save half of the table for me? He looked up from his notes when I sat down. “Hey Ticat.”
“Hey Scotty. How’s the,” I paused and looked at his notes, “calculus coming?”
“It’s coming. I have a test tomorrow and I have no idea how I’m going to pass.”
“I can try to help you?”
“I’ll see how far I can get with this and go from there?”
“Of course.” I pulled out my geography notes and the cookies. We easily fell back into our usual silent study. It was like I hadn’t been bailing on him for a week.
When the bell rang, we packed up our belongings and snuck sly glances at each other.
“Walk you to class?”
“Sure.” I nodded and threw my book bag over my shoulder.
“How have you been this week?”
“You know. Busy.”
“Yeah. How was the doctor?”
“Good. I got a clean bill of health.”
“That’s good.” I cleared my throat, awkwardly. What happened to the way things were last week? “Hey (Y/N). Uh, did you want to maybe see a movie sometime?”
“A random see what’s playing next, movie?”
“Sure. Or, you know. You could pick a movie and we could see that.”
“Scott?” I stopped walking and stepped to the side of the hall.
“Yeah?”
“Are you trying to ask me out?”
“What would you say if I was?” I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“I’d say I thought you would be much smoother and more direct. And also, I think I would like that.”
“Saturday afternoon?”
“Sure. Saturday works for me.”
“Awesome.” He stepped back into the crowded hall and walked me to class. Maybe Mike is right. Maybe this will be good for us. For me.
Saturday morning, I got up early to get ready. We had decided he would be at my place at 12:30. Since it had been so long since I had been on a first date and… and my last date had been with Jeff, I was more than a little anxious. I wasn’t sure what to wear. I wasn’t sure how to do my hair. I couldn’t call anyone to ask because I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell people I was going on a date. Staring at my closet didn’t really help the indecision. Jeans? Do people wear jeans on a first date? I pulled a few pairs out. A skirt is too formal. And I don’t want to make the wrong impression. Shirt? I need to wear a shirt. Flicking through the hangers, I picked a couple of choices that were nice but not too nice. Options in hand, I laid them out on the bed. The jeans were easy to pare down to one choice. I went with a comfortable pair of Levi’s. Again, they were nice, but not too nice. A safe choice. I ended up choosing a striped high neck tank top and grabbed a black cardigan to wear on top. Pulling a pair of flats out, I slipped them on and fixed my hair. I side braided it quickly and pulled a few pieces out to frame my face. It looked effortless. Presentable and like I thought about it, yes. But still effortless, nonetheless.
The doorbell rang just before 12:30. “I’ll get it!” I called out to my parents in the other room.
“K.” Mom responded. I hopped over to the door. Scott was standing on my porch with his hands in his pocket. His usual varsity jacket was traded for a simple grey hoodie.
“Hey (Y/N).”
“Hey Scott. Just let me grab my purse and we can head out?”
“Sure.” Purse in hand, Scott and I walked out to his car. He opened the door for me, and I smiled shyly at him. Why are you acting so shy? It’s Scott Reed. It’s not like you’ve never spoken to him before. Oh, I don’t know? Maybe because I’m going on a date with him?
“You look… really pretty.”
I blushed and looked down briefly. “Thank you. I wasn’t really sure what to wear, to be honest. You look pretty too.” I realized what I said, as soon as the words left my mouth. I can’t believe I just said that. Oh, my word. Scott burst out laughing. “Uh. I mean. Handsome. You look handsome. Very put together.”
“No, no. I’ll take pretty. I’m confident enough in my manhood that it’s a compliment. Not every day a girl calls me pretty. Let alone one I’m interested in.”
“Trust me, it happens. It might not be to your face. But it does happen.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” We were quiet for a time. My face was still pink from embarrassment. “Did you have any particular movie in mind?”
“No, not really. I thought we could give your whatever movie is next thing a go?”
“I like the way you think. As long as it isn’t 2001. Because there isn’t a more boring film in existence.”
“Oh my God, I know right? I had to see it with my cousin once for ‘family bonding time’ and I fell asleep like twice.”
“Your family does bonding time too?”
“Ugh. You don’t even want to know.” I sighed dramatically.
“Tell me about it next time?” Woah. Next time? That… doesn’t actually sound that bad.
“Next time? We haven’t even gotten through a movie together and you’re already talking about next time?”
“Well- I- uh- we-.”
“Scott. Relax. Ask me again on the way home?”
“Okay.” He sounded relived.
When we arrived at the Crestmont, the ticket person was staring blankly out the booth’s window. The joys of the Saturday afternoon shift, I guess. “Welcome to the Crestmont.”
“Hi. How are you?” Scott asked the boy. His name tag read Andrew.
“Good. And you guys?”
“Good.” We answered together.
“How can I help you?”
“Can we get two tickets to whatever is playing next?”
“Two tickets to Ferdinand in not 3D. That’ll be ten dollars please.” Scott handed him the cash and I took the tickets. “Enjoy the show.”
“Thank you.” I said.
Inside, the concession worker greeted us in a much kinder tone than the ticketer. “Any chance you’ll let me pay for the snacks?”
“Not even a little.”
“Oh, come on Scotty, you drove and paid for tickets. The least you could do is let me pay for snacks.”
“No, I’ve got it. Don’t worry about it Ticat.”
“Please?” I looked at him with my best puppy dog eyes. I could see the resolve begin to crack. “Pretty please?”
“Ugh. Fine. You can buy the snacks.” He caved, dramatically.
“Yay.” I said, softly. The cashier looked like she was trying not to laugh but she was smiling. “Hi. Can I get a pack of gummy bears and a medium Cherry Coke, please?” I turned to Scott, “are we sharing popcorn? I don’t really eat very much.”
“That sounds good.”
“Okay. And a large popcorn. And whatever he would like.”
“Can I get a pack of sour patch kids and a medium orange Fanta, please?”
“Coming right up.” I paid her and caught Scott grimacing in the corner of my eye. The puppy dog eyes always work. With our snacks in hand, we found some decent seats, given the time of day we were there. The movie was adorable. While it was technically for children, I found it to be incredibly heartwarming. Somewhere around thirty minutes into the film, our hands found each other on the shared armrest. We turned and smiled shyly at each other.
After the movie was done, we walked back to his car, hand in hand. It felt strange but also kind of nice. “I’m getting snacks next time, if I have to steal your wallet.”
“Scott Reed, commit a crime? Why I never.”
“You’d get it back after the movie.”
“Fine. But I thought next time was when I got to bore you with family bonding time stories.”
“Only because I get to bore you with mine. And fine. Then the third date.”
“It’s a date.”
JANUARY
Scott and I had been dating for about a month by now. We were keeping it on the down low. I wasn’t ready to announce to people that I was no longer the sad, grieving, heartbroken girl who was destined to be alone that they thought I should be. Scott understood that. As far as anyone at school was concerned, Scott and I were just friends. We had already been studying together so it wasn’t out of the ordinary that we were still doing that. They must have missed all the coy or longing glances we shot each other. If anyone saw us together outside of school, they assumed we were just helping each other through Jeff’s death.
Scott and I were on a date at Monet’s. It was a Sunday afternoon. It was abuzz with patrons looking for an afternoon pick me up after church or brunch. But to us, it may as well have been empty. We were still in that ‘we are the only two people who exist when we are together’ stage. Scott had just gotten back from ordering us a couple of refills. He had memorized my order already. I thought it was the sweetest thing. “So, we’ve never really talked about it but,” he paused. Oh no. Please don’t ask about Jeff. I’m not ready to get into all of that. And I don’t want to do it in public. I’m going to cry. I know I will. “you and Monty seem pretty close. What’s the story there?” Oh, that’s it? Just Montgomery? Phew.
“Not really much of a story. We grew up next door to each other before my parents moved across town in eighth grade. His family moved in about a year after mine did. I kind of took him under my wing, especially as we got older. There weren’t many kids our age in the neighbourhood. Or at least, none our moms would be okay with us spending time around. So, we had each other.”
“Interesting. He never mentioned it.”
“Well, he likes to keep his home life… private. Or….” I paused, unsure of how much Scott knew. It wasn’t my place to air that information unless necessary. Which, if you ask Monty, was never.
“As private as he can when his dad is his dad.”
“You know?”
“Yeah. He’s crashed on my couch a few times. And it’s kind of hard not to notice the bruises.”
“Yeah. Unless you’re and authority figure at school in this town apparently.” I muttered, bitterly. Scott scoffed in agreement.
“Your parents never…?”
“Offered to help? Of course, they did. He always refused. And as long as he knew he could escape to our place and be safe, they felt it ‘wasn’t their place to interfere’.” I rolled my eyes.
“I see.” He nodded, rolling his eyes too. “My parents are the same way. Give the kid a safe place for the night, some breakfast in the morning, and send him on his way.” I nodded.
“Anyway, yeah. We grew up together. Even though we are a year apart, it never really affected our friendship. Things were a little harder for a while after we moved. But that only lasted a few weeks. Everything went back to normal soon enough.”
“Cool. It’s good that he has you. The other guys….”
“Can be terrible excuses for human beings?” Scott laughed and smirked into his cup with a raise of his brows.
“Yeah. That’s one way to put it.”
“You know, it’s weird. Because I saw it from the outside looking in, in freshman year. And then when Jeff and I started dating in sophomore year, I got to see it from the inside to a degree. I never understood how Jeff did it. Or how you do it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well. You and Jeff are so… good. Like inherently good. I get the teammates and ‘you’re like family’ thing. But you guys are so different from the rest of them. And I see it with Monty too. Because I see the him that he doesn’t want the guys to see. The decent him. But he fits better I guess because I know he can have his, let’s call them moments. I never understood how you could stand by and watch it. I’m not trying to attack you or anything. Just so we are clear.”
“No, no I know. I guess… I guess it’s because you don’t want to be the odd guy out. Even though Jeff never said or did anything, he was still looked at like a brother. He was able to stay in the background with all of it and almost be the glue that kept the team from falling into complete debauchery. He gave us a shred of decency. So, everyone else had something to look to. Whether they always listened to the ‘Atkins Voice of Reason’ or not is a different story. I learned a lot from him and now it’s my turn to be the voice of reason. It’s a fine line and it can be hard to walk sometimes. But someone has to.”
“I guess that makes sense.” I nodded. We spent a little longer talking about lighter topics before parting ways. We snuck a few kisses in the alley beside the building first though.
FEBRUARY
Since we had started dating, Scott had come by the animal shelter a few times to help out. He said it was to see me. I saw right through his lies. He mostly just wanted to play with puppies for a few hours. I didn’t blame him though. I would do the same thing. He surprised me on a Wednesday evening. I came back into the shelter from a walk with a German shepherd and a rottweiler. It was a long one, so they were happy to be back so they could lounge around and beg for attention. When I entered the kennels, Scott was sitting in the middle of the puppy room, surrounded by a puddle of puppies. He was being attacked by fluff. One of the labs, Daisy, was trying to scale his chest to lick his face. A terrier mix, appropriately named Jack, was trying to get his attention by gnawing on his hand. He was giggling and had the absolute brightest smile on his face. A loud bark tore my attention away from him. The rottweiler was apparently upset that I wasn’t paying attention to him. “Oh, I’m sorry Rascal. Did you need something? Do you need some attention?” I cooed and reached out to rub his head.
“Need some company? My shift is over.” I asked as I walked into the room and shut the door firmly behind me.
“Always. How was your evening?”
“It was good. Only had to deal with a few accidents. How was practice.”
“It was alright. We had more than a few accidents.” He chuckled. Daisy had appeared to have managed the climb and was cuddled against Scott’s chest.
“I see you’ve made a new friend.”
“It looks like I have. She’s very cute. Think I could convince mom and dad to let me bring her home?”
“With you going off to college next year? I don’t think so.”
“Damn. At least that one has stopped trying to eat me.” He nodded towards Jack. He was curled up in a ball in his lap, sound asleep. The rest of the puppies were either sleeping now or trying to get attention from me. I shared the pets and love as equally as I could.
“Yeah. He hasn’t learned all of his manners yet. Eating people is not the most polite thing to do when you’re trying to get adopted.” We laughed quietly together. After another half hour, it was time to call it a night and head home.
A couple of Sundays after the puppy puddle, I decided I was ready to take a big step. I was finally ready to go and see Jeff’s grave with Scott. I had been on my own before and it had been hard. I would sit and talk to him for hours. I couldn’t tell him about Scott though. I felt like we had to go together to do that. Depending on what you believe, he probably already knew about us. But I wanted to tell him anyway.
I called Scott that morning. “Hey. Are you busy later?”
“Hey Ticat. No, I’m not. Why? Something on your mind?”
“Yeah. I was wondering if you wanted to go to Jeff’s grave with me today. Tell him about us?”
“Are you ready for that?”
“I think so. It’s time. I feel like it’s time for him to know. I need to tell him, but I don’t want to do it alone.”
“Of course, (Y/N). I’ll pick you up at one?”
“Okay.”
I decided to wear a skirt and a flowy top today. It was a nice day out. Scott picked me up and we stopped at the florist for some flowers. Jeff always got me purple tulips, so I grabbed a bouquet of them to leave on his headstone. At the cemetery, I walked hand in hand with Scott. We were both silent as we wandered through the maze of people’s final resting places. When we passed Hannah Baker’s grave, I took a single flower out of the bunch and placed it on her headstone.
It was both so long and yet much too fast before we were standing at the foot of Jeff’s grave. I neatly placed the flowers on the base of his headstone. Someone must have been by to visit recently because there was a worn-out baseball cap hanging off the corner. I could feel Scott’s eyes on me as I sat down and smoothed out my skirt. Since I normally came alone, I wasn’t really sure where to begin or what to say. He sat down beside me but didn’t reach out to take my hand. He was letting me do everything in my own time.
“I don’t know if you can hear me, wherever you are. But I’m choosing to believe you can.” Scott started after I hadn’t said anything. “I miss you. Everyone misses you. Coach Rick is still the same hard ass he’s been. We are hanging your jersey before our season opener. There’s some argument about if it should just be the team or if we should do it at the pep rally. I think you would want it to just be us.”
“Mrs. Davidson finally stopped reading out loud to us in Literature this week. Remember how she would just go on, and on, and on about the smallest, most insignificant details? And we don’t have to listen to her boring, monotone voice read every class now.”
“We have a chance at making state again this year. It won’t feel the same without you though. The guys are going a little crazy but I’m keeping things together. I think (Y/N) being around helps though. She really is amazing man. You have no idea how lucky you were to be with her. Or maybe you do. With the way you paraded her around like she was your pride and joy.”
“We really had something special. And I wish you were still here to keep sharing it with me. But you aren’t. And eventually, that will be more okay. And it will hurt less. But for now, it sucks. And it hurts. But I’ve started learning how to get through it. And I have help.” I reached out to take Scott’s hand in mine. He squeezed it. “Scott has been there for me every step of the way. Even the times when I wouldn’t be there for me if I were him. He’s seen it all. Heck, he’s seen me puking on the side of the road.”
“Or getting piss drunk at the docks.” I pushed him lightly.
“Yes. And he’s shown me that even though it hurts, I can let someone in again. I can be happy again. We’ve been together for a couple of months now. It’s harder some days than others. But he’s always there for me, no matter what. I understand why you liked him so much. He makes it hard not to. I see parts of you in him and it makes me smile on the hard days.” I had to pause because I was getting choked up.
“I see why you loved her so much. She makes it hard not to. She’s kind and smart and selfless. Even when she doesn’t need to be, she is. I wish I didn’t have to be, because you should still be here, but I am so thankful that I have the privilege of being with her. I hope you know that I will take care of her and I work every day to make her feel as loved and important as you made her feel. Our story can’t compare to yours, but I hope it makes you proud.” My tears had started to fall, and Scott pulled me into his lap. I cried into his shoulder. This was so much harder than I thought it would be. I miss Jeff. When my tears were under control, I looked at Scott for a moment. I looked back at Jeff’s headstone and was silent for a while. I was the first to stand. Brushing the dirt off my skirt, I reached out for Scott’s hand. He stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I moved the ball cap on top of the flower stems so it wouldn’t blow off in the wind.
“I love you.” I whispered. Turning around, Scott and I walked back to the car silently and drove home in somber, yet comforting silence.
MARCH
I was asleep on Scott’s chest when my phone began buzzing on the bed beside me. I slowly woke up and groggily searched for the unexpected noise. “Hello?” I whispered; my voice thick with sleep.
“(Y/N)?” Monty’s voice came through the other end of the line. He sounded like he was in immense pain. I sat up slowly, so I didn’t wake Scott.
“Monty, what’s wrong?”
“My arm. It really hurts. My old man. I, fuck, I don’t think I can drive. Can you come help me?”
“Uh…” I paused, looking at the man sleeping soundly beside me. “Yeah. Give me fifteen, twenty minutes.”
“Okay.” He said before he hung up.
I noted the time before waking Scott. It was just after one in the morning. “Scott.” I whispered, shaking him slightly. He grunted in response. “Scott, wake up for a second.” I urged again.
“Hmm? Wha’s goin’ on?” he mumbled as he woke up.
“I need to go take care of something. I don’t know when I’ll be back. You can stay here and go back to sleep. If I’m not back when you wake up, you can go home or you can stay here. If you stay there is cereal in the cupboard, and K-cups under the Keurig. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Okay (Y/N).” He muttered, already falling back asleep.
After quickly changing into a clean shirt and sweatpants, I ran downstairs. I left Scott a note on my dresser so he wouldn’t be too confused if he didn’t remember my telling him goodbye. I pulled up in front of Monty’s house and we drove silently to the hospital. I really hate it here. “What are we telling them this time?” I asked after I paid for parking.
“Sex?”
I blinked at him slowly. “What the hell kind of sex results in a possibly broken arm?”
“The really kinky kind?”
“Pick something better.”
“I fell down the stairs?”
“Alright. That could be believable.” With that, we made our way into the ER to have his arm fixed. We waited an hour to be seen and then another forty-five minutes for an X-ray.
“It looks like you won’t need surgery. I will need to cast it though.” The doctor advised.
“Alright.” Monty replied calmly, the pain meds having done their job. The doctor produced a bin of colours to choose from.
“Pick a colour and I’ll have you on your way soon.” He looked through them and decided on blue. Once wrapped and we were going to be on the way, the doctor added, “turn on the light next time.”
“Will do Doc. Thank you.” Monty replied and waved with his good hand.
Once we were in the car and on the way to my place, I realized I would need to explain Scott being over to him. Just tell him. I sighed before speaking. “Hey, so my parents are out of town, but you’ll need to sleep in the guest room.”
“Uh… okay? Why?” he asked.
“Because?”
“Because why?”
I felt my face heat up a bit. “Um… my room might already be… occupied?” I squeaked. I peeked over and his eyes widened.
“You mean…?”
“Mhmmm.”
“Who is it?”
“Scott?” I said, my voice raising an octave or two. Monty breathed out a whistle.
“Are we okay with that?”
I paused again, thinking. “Yes. Yeah, we are.”
“Well alright then.” he replied, leaning back and getting comfortable in the passenger seat. The house was quiet when we got back around four-thirty. Monty was tucked in the guest room as I slinked my way back into my own room. Scott was still sleeping soundly in bed. I crawled in beside him and went back to sleep for a few hours.
The following morning, I woke up and quietly made my way downstairs for breakfast. Monty followed not long after me, grabbing a mug and pouring himself a mug of coffee. I waited until he sat down and had a few sips before greeting him. “Morning Monty. Sleep okay?”
“Morning (Y/N). I slept okay. You?”
“It was alright. Warmer than I’m used to.”
“I’ll bet it was.” He smirked at me.
“Oh shush you.” Monty chuckled softly as I rolled my eyes.
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”
“Yeah. I am.” I nodded, smiling.
“Good. That’s good.” He nodded and took another sip of coffee. We heard footsteps coming downstairs and looked up.
“Morning (Y/N).” Scott muttered from the middle of the stairs.
“Morning Scott.” I replied.
“Morning Scotty.” Monty greeted, as though this was a perfectly normal Saturday morning. Scott almost missed a step, he stopped so fast.
“Uh. Morning Monty?” He looked to me and raised a brow.
“He needed me last night. I had to tell him.” I shrugged.
“Okay.” He said, walking over to the Keurig and making a cup of coffee. The three of us stood around the kitchen slightly awkwardly looking at each other.
“Same rule applies as with my car. I’ll beat you if you scratch her.”
“Jump right to the threats, why not?” I muttered into my mug.
“I’m sure you will, Monty.”
“Damn straight.”
“Even though I’m your favourite friend?”
“(Y/N) is my favourite.”
“I’m your person. Not your favourite.”
“Yes you are.”
“You don’t call your favourite when you kill someone and need help hiding the body.”
“Excuse me?” Scott interjected, alarmed.
“She made me watch Grey’s Anatomy with her over spring break a couple of years ago.”
“Oh. I see. How was that?”
“It’s network tv with a lot of censored sex. And drama.”
“No boobs?”
“No boobs.”
“Yeah, it would be better with boobs. And if everyone stopped leaving and dying.” I added.
“Does this mean I have to watch it with you?”
“No, you might have to sit through an episode of The Bachelor though. I mostly just watch it because I don’t understand how none of those stupidly attractive people can find dates on their own.”
“You hate watch it. I can’t wait.”
“Well, you’ll get to look forward to what happens after we get done hate watching it.” I retorted, lowly. Scott rose his brow suggestively.
“Oh really?”
“And on that note! Who wants… whatever I can make (Y/N) cook with eggs, peppers, and… meat? What is this meat?” Monty cut in as he went through my fridge.
“I think it’s pork. Could be ground turkey though. There’s potatoes in the cupboard. Breakfast hash?”
“Sounds delicious.” Scott answered. I moved around him and got the bag of potatoes so I could start helping.
“How long has this been going on for anyway? Also remember that I’m still here so you can’t be all touchy.”
Scott looked at me before answering. “Since December.”
“How did I not notice?” Monty said after a pause.
“I don’t know. Too busy with sports and Bryce? There’s also spinach. Do I add the spinach?” I turned around and the boys were both making faces. “No spinach then.”
“I was not busy with Bryce.”
“Mhmm. That’s not why you blew off our movie marathon tradition?”
“Okay, point made.”
“How’s your arm?”
“It’s okay, hurts like a bitch. Why, Scott?”
“Just asking.” Scott turned to me and whispered, “his dad?” I nodded.
“No flirting.”
“I didn’t get to kiss her good morning, give me a break.” I turned and watched Scott playfully flip Monty off. Then, he placed a soft kiss to my lips and I smiled into it. “Good morning beautiful.”
“Good morning handsome.”
***
“Monty knows now.”
“He does.” I replied, leaning back into his chest on the couch. “He’s okay with it.”
“That’s good.”
“You aren’t going to be jealous, are you? Because there is nothing going on between us.”
“No, I know. What was the fight about this time?”
“Who knows. He called me and said he needed me, so I went. He wanted to tell the doctors it was a sex accident.”
Scott laughed. “What the fuck kind of sex would that have been?”
“The kind that would have broken his wrist, not his forearm.”
“You would have been the top?”
“Yes. So, you see why we couldn’t say that.”
“Right. That’s why.”
“We said he fell down the stairs.”
“Plausible.”
“Anyway, no idea what it was. But knowing his dad, it could have been anything. There’s a reason I don’t go to his house very often.” I left it at that and we cuddled on the couch for a while.
“Hey Scotty?”
“Yeah, (Y/N/N)?”
I sat up and turned to him. “Now that Monty knows, do you think we could tell other people? Maybe… maybe enough time has passed that people will understand?”
“I think we can tell people, if you want to. I don’t care what people think. I would have told everyone in January if you wanted to.”
“I know. I just… I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never been the girl whose boyfriend died before.”
“I know. People might talk for a few days, but they’ll move on. No one expects you to have stayed single for the rest of your life.”
“Not my whole life necessarily. Just the rest of high school.” I joked.
“The people who complain can fuck off.”
“I guess. And things have kind of gone back to normal now. Or as normal as they can.”
“We don’t have to tell people if you don’t want to (Y/N).”
“I do. I think we need to. I don’t want to hide you anymore. It’s time for me to start living my life in the open again.”
“And honestly, I’m tired of hiding you.” We spent a little longer watching tv together. It was nice having someone I could just sit and be with again. We each took turns choosing shows. “I should probably head home soon sweetheart.”
“Okay. I’ll see you Monday?”
“Of course.” Together we gathered up his things and tidied the kitchen. Scott kissed me goodbye, and I leaned against the front door after he had driven away.
Monday would be the last big thing I had to do before graduation. It was the last step in beginning to move forward. I would always love Jeff Atkins. He would always be a part of me and hold a special place in my heart. But I had realized over the last several months that I could be happy again. I wouldn’t be betraying him for allowing myself to fall in love with someone again. And I had Scott Reed to thank for that.
#montgomery de la cruz#jeff atkins#scott reed#scott reed imagine#Scott Reed x Reader#scott reed x reader#Jeff Atkins x reader#Jeff Atkins deserved better#13 reasons why#13rw#thirteen reasons why#writeblr#fanfiction#fan fiction
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Three’s Company
Harry Styles x Reader x Florence Pugh
Story Summary: The relationship of Harry Styles, Florence Pugh, and Y/N are kept under wraps... until it all falls apart.
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: Language // Angst
Authors Note: Please ignore the fact I’ve had writters block for over a month... Hope this is at least (semi) close to what you wanted anon! I kind of been carried away in daydreams of a poly relationship with Harry and Florence lately... xx
>>>Kind of a continuation of this fic<<< (Not necessary to read first)
PART TWO
>>><<<
"Come on." Harry breathed out the words onto your skin. His lips pressed against the smooth sensitive velvet of your inner legs. "Jus' wanna make yeh feel good, baby."
"I gotta go." You whined, your head pressed down into your pillow on his bed as you pouted up at the ceiling. It was 11:32 and you had exactly 28 minutes until you needed to be across town for this dumb lunch you promised your friends you'd show up to.
"Only need five minutes." He smirked into your skin. Playful green eyes shot up from between your legs when you out a huff.
"Shut up." You mumbled, your legs snapped closed as you tried to roll out of his oversized bed. His long, lanky, arms around your waist trying their best to stop you from leaving.
"Wait!" He pouted, his head rested on your shoulder.
"Harry." You groaned, your head leaned back as your feet dangled off the bed, inches away from the floor, and towards the plans, you were starting to regret making for the day.
"Sweetheart, 've missed yeh." His calloused hands wandered down your waist, under the shirt you'd stolen from his closet for your impromptu nights stay.
You were starting to wonder why you even bothered having an apartment of your own when those fucking hands started soothing motions on your breast. Rough fingers swirling your nipples into a hard peak.
Your soft sigh floated through the air as his lips curled against your neck. You could tell he thought he won this time, his gloating smirk, a self-satisfied hum drifting from that damn mouth that you simultaneously wanted to smack and grind against. He always knew how to do this, he managed to find all your weak spots in less than a month.
The bastard.
"You two always start without me." The voice of your girlfriend broke through that foggy haze of lust in your mind. You jumped away from Harry. Your bare feet hit the floor with a loud slap.
"Ugh." Harry groaned as he slammed back into the soft mattress, his eyes glared at Florence. "Now she's gonna leave."
"What? No…." She drew out in a whine. Perfectly pink lips pouted at you from the corner of Harry's bed.
"I promised them I'd go this time." You mumbled as you tossed articles of clothing that didn't belong to you across the room.
You three needed a cleaning system.
"But…" Florence sighed as she took down her hair from the towel on top of her head. "Today's our day off."
"You guys can still do stuff." You said as you wiggled quickly into your jeans, not at all paying attention to the worried look on both of their faces.
It had been a little less than a month of dating and the two of them hadn't gone anywhere without you. Sure, you'd done things separately with the both of them. Separate dates, divided time between both their apartments, and long nights with either one of them in a bed.
You'd done just as much together as you had apart but neither one of them wanted to push the bounds of the slightly new relationship. That left you with one boyfriend and one girlfriend, who really didn't seem to be dating each other, only you.
"We've talked about this." You groaned as you slid your bra around your bare stomach. Harry's shirt bunched around your neck as you threaded each arm through a strap. "Go out on a date, fuck each other."
"We do!" Florence protested, her arms crossed against her bare chest, the towel in her hair fell slightly as she pouted to you.
You couldn't have rolled your eyes harder if you tried.
"Without me." You said as you tucked Harry's shirt into the top of your jeans. His head popped up from the bed, a dimpled smile across his face when he saw you wearing his clothes for the day.
"We wanna give yeh time to get used to it." He said as he rested on his elbow. His soft curly hair hung in his eyes.
"I know," you sighed as you sat down on the edge of the bed to put on your socks. " I appreciate it but really, you two are dating too."
"Won't change your mind?" Florence asked after a second too long of you three being in silence.
"Flor," you cooed in a soft voice when your eyes lifted to see her looking so vulnerable. "I'm not going anywhere. I want this."
Your hand cupped around her face, thumb stroking her cheek. Her head nodded in agreement before you leaned in to capture her lips with your own.
This would be good for all of you, you thought. A chance for the three of you to become a solid unit, not separate moving parts. You smiled softly at her as you leaned back from her. Her eyes still held a look of disbelief hidden deep in them.
"Promise I'm not going anywhere."
>>>
"You're late!" Your best friend yelled way too loudly at you as soon as you rounded the corner of the sidewalk. Your cheeks flamed as you glared at him, thankful your sunglasses hid you at least a little bit from the seemingly millions of people, now staring at you.
"Get famous friends and now you think you can be late."
Your elbow dug into his side as you passed him. The doors to the sports bar, you used to be a regular at, opened with a ring as he mumbled under his breath, dutifully following behind you as he rubbed the sore spot on his side.
The long table that was once filled with your handful of single friends was now filled to the brim with the original three and their partners. You were the only singleton, the lone warrior, or at least that's what they all thought.
The decision to not go public was made almost immediately by the three of you. No media coverage seemed like the smart move for everyone involved.
The only exception you made to the keep-it-under-wraps rule was your immediate family and your one best friend, Sam, who promptly told his own girlfriend.
"You should go out with our travel agent, Y/N, he's really sweet. Not much of a looker though." Lisa, a girl you didn't even like, piped up halfway through your pasta dish. Your teeth ground together as you smiled up to her over your fork.
"Might as well, Y/N." Sam's girlfriend, Casey, snickered from the other side of you. Her laughter was cut short by your foot kicking her leg under the table, hard.
"I'm good." You huffed, you didn't know how much longer you could take sitting here with all of them trying to set you up with friends of friends, or worse their sad sympathetic smiles everytime one of the couples at the table did something cute.
"You could tell them." Sam whispered to you when he saw your mounting frustration with the situation. Most of your friends had married assholes who had no problem voicing their opinions about your love life.
By the third beer and your slice of cheesecake, you had relaxed a bit. The conversation had finally gone from your lack of love life towards everyone's children or careers. The end of the long lunch was finally on the horizon and you could successfully ditch having to hang out with all of them again for at least another 6 months when your phone started buzzing out of control from your purse behind you.
All 6 people who sat around the table with you seemed to be more invasive than you originally thought. All set of eyes stared you down as you unlocked your phone to silence it, when the notifications caught your attention.
So many fucking notifications.
Every account you had, countless tags and mentions, tweets from every person in America, it felt like.
Thank fuck, @Y/N_Y/L/N can FINALLY leave @Harry_Styles alone!
Ding, Dong, the third wheel is DEAD @Y/N_Y/L/N
Hope @Y/N_Y/L/N is recovering well from @Harry_Styles choosing the better girl @Florence_Pugh
#Florencerry #Farry #Florry CONFIRMED. #ByebyebyeY/N
That familiar feeling of dread flooded your stomach, your tongue grew thick with anxiety as your eyes scanned so many messages. Your silence covered the entire table, or maybe it was the ringing in your ears that made it feel that way.
You said you wanted them to go on a date, not this.
No, this, this was awful. A picture of your two partners with their tongue shoved down each other's throats. They were in a corner, away from everybody, trying to be as private as possible. Harry's hand wrapped in her hair, her own hands grasped the back of his shirt.
Why wouldn't they be more careful? Where did this leave you three?
Where did it leave you?
"Everything okay?" Sam's voice sliced through your anxious thoughts.
"Just my brother." You lied as smoothly as you could. Your phone quickly locked and placed back into your purse, a wad of money thrown on the table for your meal. "He's at my apartment, got to go let him in."
"Okay?" Sam's voice trailed behind you as you rushed through the doors to the restaurant and back to the safety of your own apartment.
>>>
"What the fuck?" Florence groaned, her pillow thrown off the bed, towards Harry's phone that wouldn't stop ringing.
"'M up." He mumbled, his blurry eyes barely opening. They definitely shouldn't have had all those drinks with lunch.
"Wot?" He grumbled, half-asleep into his phone, not even paying attention to the name that flashed across the screen.
"Why didn't you tell me you're going out with Florence? This is great for the movie!" Jeff cheered, loudly, way too loudly. Harry's eyebrows pulled together as he pulled the phone back from his face.
Florence gasped, shooting up from her place, phone in hand as she panicked. Her eyes widened larger and larger, the longer she looked at her phone.
"Oh no." She whispered, her phone pushed in Harry's face that fell into a frown the second his eyes focused on the bright screen.
"Well, 'm not-" he cleared his throat that suddenly seemed like the desert. "'M dating her and Y/N."
"At the same time?" Jeff said after a very long and uncomfortable pause. Harry's hand ran through his hair as Florence signaled for him to put Jeff on speaker.
"Yeh, we're all datin'." Harry's lips pursed as he hit the speakerphone button. He wasn't exactly sure what Jeff would say. Sure, he was supportive in the past but this was new territory, at least for Harry.
"Harry…" Jeff sighed through the phone. His voice seemed to make the room go completely still. Everything paused in time. "You can't- listen, it's not a good idea to go public with that."
"Not really y'choice."
"Give it till the movie's over. You and Florence date publicly and promote the movie, once it's done go public then if you still want to."
"We'll talk 'bout it." Harry muttered, the phone call ended as quickly as it started. His phone thrown haphazardly back onto the nightstand beside the bed as he let out a long groan, his hands ran down his face.
"God, Y/N had to see that already. She's probably freaking out." Florence said as she got out of bed, determined to go check on her girlfriend no matter how late it was.
"Jeff was right." Harry said softly, his eyes fixed on the wall opposite of him. The small amount of light that filled the room was barely enough to see the shocked look across Florence's face, but Harry didn't have to see it to know it was there.
Even he was surprised at his own words.
Was he really prepared to give you both up to save his career? Or could he take all the stigma from dating two girls at once? He didn't know and he didn't have time to process.
"You did not just say that."
"What would people think, Flor? 'M a guy, dating two women! I'd be a womanizer and yeh two the bimbos who put up with me datin' each other."
"Wow, Harry." Florence's voice boomed around the room as she threw on her clothes. Angrily stomping around until she was clothed.
"Yeh knew what I meant." He sighed, his head rested in his hands.
"I don't want to hide who I'm with. I'm happy with you two and I can't believe you want to hide that!" She shrieked, her foot stomped on the floor as she glared at him.
Logically, she could understand his reasoning. Emotionally, she was pissed. How could he be thinking of hiding away what you three had? You were the perfect girlfriend and the three of you worked so well together.
"I wanna give it time!" He snapped back, his voice sharp with an anger she hadn't heard before.
"Why?" She asked in a huff, her hands crossed over her chest as she glared at him.
"People are gonna eat her alive. She'll always be the third wheel. If we wait til after the movie maybe it won't be so bad" Harry's words sucked the life right out of Florence. Her chest seemed to deflate as she stared at Harry. Stress, anxiety, and about a million other feelings ran through her all at once.
"Oh." She sighed, the edge of the bed dipped in as she sat down. Both of them silently staring at random objects in the room that suddenly become the most interesting thing.
Both of them wondering where this left the three of you.
>>>
It had been three months, three long and hard months of feeling like the outsider in your relationship. Maybe not in private but in public, you were always the odd man out.
Don't stand too close to Harry.
Don't be too friendly with Florence.
Don't laugh too hard.
Don't smile too much, and for the love of God, do not let anyone catch you hugging each other for too long.
It was hard but as the holidays grew closer and the final scenes of the movie were filmed, you knew the end was just on the horizon. You'd finally be able to hold hands with them in public again. You'd be able to fix Florence's hair or adjust Harry's shirt without being murdered online.
The trivial things that you used to not pay any mind to doing every day were hard to stop doing in public at first. It was a hard road, with too much speculation from fans and a lot of rude tweets about you, but it was worth it. You'd spend your nights wrapped up with the both of them, a smile on your face as you drifted to sleep.
It was hard but worth it. You'd repeat to yourself almost daily.
They cared about you.
They wanted to be with you.
You loved them both.
"Hello?" Your voice cracked as your one hand rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, the other barely opening the front door of Harry's house.
You didn't think he was expecting anyone.
"Is, uh, is my brother here?" Gemma asked from the other side.
"Oh, he and Florence are at an interview for the movie." You said as you opened the door fully for her. Your bare legs that weren't covered by Harry's t-shirt raised at the cool air that ran in. "You can wait for him if you want."
"Yeah, okay." She mumbled as she walked passed you, her eyes barely made contact with your own as she made a fast-paced walk to the living room.
"I'm sorry, if I'd known you were coming I would have picked up or you know, made tea or something." You said awkwardly from the entryway. Your arms crossed over your chest as you walked further into the room.
"No offense or anything," she started as she looked over the semi-messy room and back over to you, "why are you here?"
"What?" You asked with an uncomfortable chuckle, the smile that was there fell from your face.
"This is Harry's house and he's not here. Plus, he's dating Florence." Her pointed words stung deep as her eyes sliced into you.
"He's, he didn't- wait," you stuttered out as you circled to where she was standing, your eyebrows pulled tightly together as you looked into her stern face. "Did he not tell you?"
"Tell me what? That you're Florence's friend?"
The lung was sucked out of your lungs so quickly it felt like you were a fish out of water. Your tongue wetting your lips was the only signal to your brain that you were still alive and moving around, breathing but barely.
"Florence friend, right." You said softly, your eyes stung as you scoffed. You shook your head as you stared at the floor.
It took a millisecond for you to get a hold of yourself. You gave her a sad smile as you walked past her towards the bedroom. His shirt left on the bed and all of your belongings that were in sight packed into your oversized purse.
You were done.
You were so done being the third wheel. You could handle it for a little bit, maybe even forever if it was just with the public, but this was his sister. His family, his inner circle, and he hadn't told her.
"Y/N?" You heard her panicked call of your name from the other room. Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach. Your head thrown back as the tears started to flow down your cheeks.
You couldn't be with one and not the other.
"Where are you going?" Her voice broke as she saw you standing there, your bags packed, his shirt on the bed.
"Y/N?" His voice stung, the betrayal burned in your throat.
"I'm leaving." You said from the middle of the bedroom, your back still faced them as they stood in the doorway.
"You'll be back tomorrow, right?"
"No, Flor, I'm not coming back." You whispered, tears flooded your eyes as you heard her suck in a deep breath.
"Y/N, 'S almost over, one more interview and I prom-"
"Fuck your promises." You yelled as you turned furiously in your spot, your vision blurred as you glared at him.
"Wha-"
"Ask your sister." You scoffed as you stormed past them, your shoulder knocked his as you pushed through the doorway.
"What does that mean?" Florence yelled as she trailed after you. Harry's shocked face and slumped shoulder not deterring her at all from chasing you down.
"It means I'm done." You sniffed, the sleeve of your sweater used as a tissue. "I'm your girlfriend not some slut you welcome in your bed from time to time."
"We don't think that at all!" Florence cried harder, her hands cupped your face as she closed in on you. Your shoulders shrugged, your own hands pushed hers away as you sucked in a deep breath.
"I can't Flor. I just can't."
"Baby, please, lemme explain…" Harry pleaded as he walked up behind Florence, his hands rested on her shoulders, his own green eyes watering. "I didn't it to get out before we were ready. Jus' a little longer and then it goes back to normal."
"This is normal. This will always be our normal." You sobbed, your hands covered your eyes as you turned from the both of them. Your arms hugged around yourself for comfort. "I'm always going to be the one who's in the middle of your relationship."
"You're not!" Florence choked as she held onto Harry's hand.
"I'll fix all of this, please, jus' stay." Harry's hand reached for your own but you jerked your body away.
You couldn't say anything, nothing more would come out. No words made sense to you right now. Your heart was broken and so were you. You turned to leave, walking tight past the shocked Gemma and towards the door.
"I love you." Her words made you pause but only for a second, the doorknob turned in your hand before you could give it a second thought.
Leaving was harder than you ever imagined but you couldn't stay where you felt unwanted. Your sniffling nose and shallow breathing was your only company as you walked the long street back to your car then back to your lonely apartment that shined with object after object that reminded you of them.
#Harry Styles x Reader#Harry Styles x You#Harry Styles x Y/N#Harry Styles#Harry Styles Fanfic#Harry Styles Fanfiction#Fanfic#Fanfiction#Florence Pugh#Florence Pugh x Reader#Florence Pugh x Y/N#Florence Pugh x You#Florence Pugh Fanfic#Florence Pugh Fanfiction#harry styles dwd#Florence Pugh DWD#dwd movie#DWD fanfic#Don't Worry Darling#writing#mine
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Chapter 2
Characters - Reader, Ransom Drysdale, assorted OCs
Word count - 3100
Warnings - Drinking, language, sexual content
A/N - Hope you enjoy the next installment of my Ransom series. Still setting things up in the chapter, but we’re moving along. For a while, there will be a good amount of heavy drinking and the questionable choices that go along with that, just FYI. Remember this is fiction and the acts are not recommended. They will also be acknowledged later if you are concerned.
Feedback is wonderful, & if you notice any errors please let me know!
Dividers made by @firefly-graphics
Chapter 1
You order drinks plus shots.
“To another fucking week,” you salute with Whitney. It burns, and it’s sweet, and you just want it to act fast.
“Yeah, another one.” She grabs hers, salutes, and tosses it back back. She cringes for a few seconds, but once she recovers, she picks right up with half of a conversation you weren’t having. “So, are you gonna take someone home tonight?”
“You’re more worried about my sex life than your own.” You shake your head at her.
“After what that asshole did to you, you deserve all the good fucking. I’m just trying to find a good dick to help you forget.”
“Wow, that’s sweet in a weird way.” You shake your head again, but smile this time.
“Well, it’s true. I also don’t want to feel bad if I ditch you later for my own fuck buddy.” She wiggles her eyebrows like a cartoon villain. At least she’s giving you a warning this time and not just disappearing on you later.
“Jesus, Whit. Yeah okay.” You can’t help but laugh with her. “It’s just,” you survey the group around you, “You never really know what you’re gonna find at the end of the night.”
“Uhhh, yeah. That’s what having a one-night stand is...Oh hi.” She offers a dazzling smile to a cute guy pushing next to her at the bar.
You wait a few seconds for her attention to return before you mutter, “I am well aware.”
“So pick a partner and do-si-do. Come on, cowgirl,” she nudges you, nodding to the guy in the fraying straw hat next to you. Nothing seems to deter her.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” you giggle.
She smiles and shrugs. A few minutes pass as she looks you over, studying you.
“You’re being weird about this.”
“I know.” You nibble on the straw in your glass for a moment before getting to where your mind’s been stuck for hours. “So hey, that guy we hung out with? Ransom?”
“No.” She shakes her head hard from side to side, a slightly manic giggle coming out between the repeated, “No, no. No.”
“What?” you try to sound casual, indifferent, but she knows you too well. “I just want to know what his deal is.”
“You don’t,” she insists, shaking her head.
“Why? Did you sleep with him?”
“No, I haven’t.” She pauses for a moment, you can see she’s actually thinking over her answer. “He’s just gonna get what he wants from you and push you away.”
“You do realize that’s exactly what you’ve been telling me to do? So I should screw someone, but not him...because that’s what he does?”
“Yeah.”
“Wait, are he and Michelle a thing? I don’t want any extra relationship drama.”
“Psshh, yeah, god knows you’ve had enough of that.” She stares off into the middle distance before shaking her head and focusing again. “No, they’re not together either, but please? Please? Just promise me you’re not interested in Ransom.”
“Okay, but why?”
“I don’t know, I guess I don’t really think you’re his type.” She lets the words hang, and you’re unsure how to interpret them until you finally settle on hurt. You physically recoil a bit when the sting of her words hits.
“Wow, ouch. What the hell does that mean?” You look down into your lap, looking yourself over really quickly and not finding anything major sticking out.
“I just don’t see it. Trust me, and tell me you’re not being serious with this.”
Even with her strange and kind of harsh reaction, you can’t get rid of the swooping feeling you get in your stomach just thinking about him. So, you try to purse your lips to control the uncomfortable smile trying to break through. You want to assure your friend, but can’t lie to her either...at least not well.
“I’m totally not,” you finally say with an awkward laugh behind it. Again, failing miserably to play off nonchalance.
She sees it all and knows you’re full of shit. “No one will have any respect for you if you fuck around with him.” She says, matter-of-factly.
Where this is all coming from, you have no idea.
“You’re being mean and cryptic and I don’t like it. I’m not even saying that anything’s going to happen, but that sounds a little extreme, Whit. Come on,” you whine.
She rolls her eyes. “It’s not. Just find someone and ask him to buy you a drink. Look around, you can pick anyone, but I am not enabling you and Ransom,” she quickly adds.
You try to lighten the mood by teasing her about having standards, but can’t find much ground to stand on when she brings The Ex into the discussion. She’s really on a roll tonight and pulling no punches. It’s not what you wanted or needed from the night. You came out with a mission to have fun, so you take a deep breath and decide to be the bigger person.
“Hey Whit?”
She keeps her eyes on the bar in front of her, letting you know she’s still somewhat annoyed at you. “Yesss?”
“This week sucked. Let’s get trashed.” You sling your arms around her shoulders and shake her until she laughs with you. Her party-friend is back in action.
“Fuck. Yes.”
You struggle to go along with Whitney’s plan for your night, especially when the Cowboy and just about every other guy she pushes your way fail to keep your interest. Not that you’d never had a one-night stand, but just that lately they’d been pretty awful experiences and you wondered far too often lately what a life of celibacy would look like. It’s much easier to dismiss the guys and remember that at least your vibrator can get the job done.
Before last call you give in and you text Jeff. Yes, the Jeff with whiskey dick who left you high and dry last time as Whitney reminds you with a giggle. He sounds genuinely happy to hear from you again and promises to make up for last time which makes it seem worth it to give him another shot. He’s tall, fit, with long fingers and if you remember correctly, a decent enough dick.
He manages to stay hard this time around, and he takes his time feeling you up, but the two of you can’t find a rhythm that works. You finally bat his hand away and rub yourself off while he pumps sloppily into you. Afterward, he leans in for a kiss and you turn away to give him your cheek. Getting dressed, you give him a few non-committal answers when he asks about seeing you again, and at the end of it all, you’re most grateful that you didn’t take him to your place.
You spread out alone in your own bed and think over Whitney’s words.
Whitney knows more than a few of your dirty secrets; the friendship between you two had blossomed quickly with your guard easily let down. She never really judged you, at least not openly, which left you swirling in doubt for days, obsessing over what would probably end up being nothing.
What made you not his type - looks? Money? Another woman? She never really had a filter, but she was being so short on the topic of Ransom which made you think even harder, rooting through some more recent bad memories.
“Am I a bad person?” you ask Carrie during the week.
“What? No!”
You accept her answer with a nod, silently thinking.
“I wonder if I should just take a break.” When Carrie looks at you funny, you clarify, “Like, maybe I am finding these losers because I am not all that great myself? These guys are all just…”
“Babe, you’re meeting them at bars...with Whitney.”
You heave in a deep sigh, “I know. And she’s not that bad.” A humorless laugh escapes. “Maybe I am aiming too high or something?”
“There’s no such thing.” You see her shoulders shift, fire in her eyes and protective mode activated like she’s done a few times in staff meetings. “What happened?” she asks.
“Nothing. Just thinking.”
Whitney laughs when you tell her you’re thinking of taking a break.
“Was Jeff that bad? I thought you said he was good with his fingers.”
You look around, even if Whitney has forgotten she’s in public, you haven’t. No one else reacts though, thankfully.
“You’re such a bitch,” you sigh. She fakes offense which you ignore. “No, he wasn’t that bad, I just want to find a nice guy. I don’t know.”
Her already buzzed gaze moves somewhere over your shoulder, “Oh whoa, stop that thought. There’s a guy behind you that looks like he wants to bend you over right here. So,” she drags out, “How about we see how that goes and forget about Jeff, and nice for a while.”
She adjusts her own posture, subtly popping up her tits and tilting her chin down to offer him and enticing smile.
‘Jeff isn’t the problem,’ you think to yourself, but she’s already moving forward with her plan for your night. You toss back the shot she places in front of you and turn to check him out.
It’s not happening, even as tipsy as you currently are, this guy with the ironic mullet hovering next to you and trying to get handsy is not getting into your pants. You know it, Whitney knows it (even if she continues to flirt with his friend), hell - the people in the space station know it… but Mullet Guy is oblivious. It’s embarrassing.
You sit there with your hands over half of your face, wishing he’d leave you alone, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Turning, you see a familiar pretty face surrounded by blonde hair.
“Do you need some help?” Michelle asks, eyeing the guy next to you.
You’re surprised she even recognized you, let alone approached you, but you’re desperate to take the help where you can get it. “Oh my god, yes.”
She gives you a knowing grin, “You’ll find some of us in the corner booth in the back.”
“You sure?” you ask, still thrown off by the interaction and nearly stumbling off the bar stool. “What about Whitney?”
“I’ll get her,” She gives you a little nudge.
You slip past the guy hopelessly hitting on you, mumbling and hoping he doesn’t follow and head down the aisle alongside the bar until you reach the large, corner booth. A few faces look familiar, but when he looks up you consider turning back. Judging by his smirk, there’s no chance of that happening.
You raise your voice to be heard over the noise of the bar, “Um, Michelle sent me over,” your nerves turning it into a question rather than a statement.
Ransom raises an eyebrow like he’s about to ask a question, but nudges the people next to him to make them get up and make room for you.
“Oh, no that’s...I’ll just sit on the end.” You try to politely wave them off, but they’re already up.
“Come on in, sweetheart,” he invites you, arm thrown over the back of the seat and your heart beats double-time with just how much you want it wrapped around you. The two people who vacated their spots shift impatiently and you clumsily sit down and start to scoot over under your knee bumps into his, making you immediately stop and apologize.
“You here all alone?” he asks, swirling his drink, the ring on his pinky finger flashing in the light.
“Nah,” Michelle reappears and speaks up for you as she sets down a few glasses onto the table, “Whitney’s here, but she’s got some company. This lucky lady,” she points to you and continues with a light laugh in her voice, “Was just looking miserable with some idiot not taking a hint.”
“You should’ve just told him to fuck off.” Ransom says.
You look over the crowd, finding Mullet Guy waiting for you back at your seat. His eyes droopy from the liquor and Whitney swaying with his companion.
“I know, I just don’t like doing that. Plus, uh, I think Whitney is trying to fuck his friend.”
“So leave her. She’s a big girl and can handle herself.”
After that he continues the conversation he was having with the others before you arrived, and once again, you sit there silently watching.
If you can call anyone the leader in the group, it is Ransom. Watching the way the other guys at the table defer to him and how he responds to what they say makes it obvious. He knows it too, practically sitting here holding court at the big square booth.
The conversation isn’t all that interesting, at least not to you. Some kind of pissing contest the guys are having involving some sports stats. Every now and again you hear them say something so blatantly wrong, but you don’t know them well enough to correct them. With the underhanded comments and passive aggressive insults, you can’t help but wonder if any of them are actually friends. Eventually, your attention wanders over the rest of the bar patrons.
“Am I keeping you from something?” Ransom startles you with how close he is, body still but eyes roaming. You suck in a deep breath, smelling the alcohol and his cologne which makes your mouth water.
“N-no, sorry,” you struggle to come up with an excuse for zoning out, “Just looking for Whitney.”
He tips his head, “She’s right where you left her.” You follow his line of sight, finding her easily.
“Oh. Yeah.”
The way his face goes impassive unsettles you, like it was the wrong answer. “We’re boring you. That’s alright. Let’s talk about you.”
“Not much that you’d be interested in, I think.” Whitney’s assertion that you’re not his type replays in your head
“I don’t know about that. I have a lot of interests.” He stares at you with this look on his face, like he’s listening to something funny, but his eyes are serious. It’s intimidating when combined with the way he’s lounged so comfortably next to you, taking up the space like he owns it and yours. His tone, and the little tickle from his fingers against your shoulder feels like flirting, and now your inner voice begs you to remember how to fucking flirt. ‘For the love of god, shake off the nerves and flirt with this gorgeous creature.’ You take a deep breath and try to sink into it.
“What do you want to know?” You ask, setting your elbow on the table and propping your face on your palm while you turn even further toward him.
One side of his face lifts almost into a smile. He starts with a few basic questions, finding out you’re not from the city, how long you’ve been around. He ignores what you ask in return, continuing with his rapid-fire questioning.
“How do you know that little brat?” he asks with a tiny flick in the direction of the bar.
“Whitney?” you chuckle and he nods, “Friend of a friend; she practically became attached at my hip once we started going out together.”
“A quiet little mouse like you and her? Really?”
“I promise you, I’m not always so quiet,” you challenge.
“See, now that is interesting. Think I’d like to see that,” he answers, eyes giving you a quick up-down in your seat.
In the seconds it takes for you to process that he is indeed flirting and you need to respond, the moment is broken by a high-pitched voice.
“There you are! You fucking ditched me.” Whitney practically howls at you. You feel like a child who got caught out after curfew as you see her eyes move between you and Ransom. “What’s happening here?”
The alcohol has settled enough to remove some of your tension. With that and her overdramatic reaction, trying to control the urge to giggle at being caught is impossible, so you bite down on your lips to keep the grin from your face. “Nothing,” you answer, poorly faking innocence.
Ransom’s eyes stay on you, you can feel it, but he talks to your friend, “We were just getting to know each other better.” He turns to look at her, “Sit down with us,” his tone almost sounding like an order.
“Getting to know each other?” she asks you pointedly.
You can’t understand what her problem is with him, especially since he’s her friend. At this point, you’re too intrigued. It’s not like there’s any point in trying to deny that you’re attracted to him with half your body leaning into him like he’s a magnet, but for some reason you think you see real disappointment in her eyes. Biting your lip, you take a peek at him to find him waiting for your response; he’s already smug with the attention.
“Yeah.”
“What about your break?” she spits out.
You feel too many people looking at you, but you can’t answer, too shocked that she’s put you on the spot like this.
“Remember?” she asks like you’re forgetful, “You’re taking a break because you’re looking for a nice guy.” She over-enunciates as she stares daggers at Ransom.
“Why don’t you get the stick out of your ass, Whitney. I’ve been nice all night, haven’t I sweetheart?” The hostility between the two makes your back go rigid, anxious for the moment to end and the spotlight to be directed anywhere else.
“I’m fine,” you tell her as firmly as you can.
She shakes her head at you, but sits down anyway, jumping right into flirty conversation with Eric who is sitting at the end of the booth, notably there without the girl from the other weekend.
“Hmm,” Ransom hums right against your ear, making your skin tingle. “I think someone just got in trouble.” He’s clearly amused and not sounding remorseful at all.
He makes a move then. It’s slight, but you feel him tuck you a little further under his arm. Part of you is glad Whitney is distracted, but the other part wants her to notice it and realize she might be wrong.
“I…yeah,” you stumble over your words, confused and flustered between the two of them. Chest tight and pulling in short breaths and stomach swooping with excitement, you internally scream, begging for him to make it worth it.
#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale x you#ransom drysdale series#ransom drysdale fanfiction#knives out fanfiction#c'mon let's pretend series#my writing#chris evans characters#ransom thrombey#ransom drysdale fluff
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Chapter 8; Sketchy Shit
The year had been going on for a while. I honestly can’t tell you what happened since last time, but I’m having a blast. Ever since I’ve been hanging out with Randy and the team things are turning up for me. I’m finally back where I stood at my old school. Popular. It’s dumb, I know, but, it’s just so awesome. People don’t fuck with you, you have friends in every class, and everyone knows your name.
Right now, I’m sitting in the gym. I was talking with my friends until the coach threw her keys at me.
“Woods you open up the locker rooms.” She ordered as I gave her a quick nod in return, standing up as I hopped down the bleachers to go down the hall.
Today was stormy, the rain was so loud and hard it sounded like a waterfall overhead. The sky was an angry bluish-black color, lightning lit up the sky now and again, rolls of thunder chasing after it.
I didn’t like going down to the locker rooms, because once you opened the double doors that led to the hall they were on, it was pitch black. According to Randy some kids had busted out the bulbs with a basketball and the school never bothered to fix the lights. I couldn’t see anything in front of me, the only light I had was the weird glow from the slit windows on the doors back behind me. I felt along the left wall, quickly finding the door to the girl's locker room. I messed with the keys, trying to get the one that went to the door before I stopped. hearing a noise within the locker room.
I slowly turned the key in the lock, peering my head in. The sound came from the far back of the room. I stepped in, slowly making my way through the darkroom, the bangs of thunder rumbling the building a bit. That’s when I could make out the sound, it sounded like a baby crying. My heart dropped into my stomach, I didn’t want to go any closer to where the sound was, but my feet disobeyed my head as they pulled me forward to it. It was like I wasn’t even in control. My heart was slamming against my ribcage as a sick feeling came up my throat. I stopped in the hall of the showers, pulling back the numerous curtains until my eyes trailed to the right of me.
I saw watered-down blood running off into one of the drains, the sounds of the baby now closer than ever. I tore my eyes to the curtain, the deadly curiosity getting the better of me as I pulled the curtain back.
What I saw was horrifying, I almost threw up.
On the floor of the shower was a bloody infant with its neck twisted at an unnatural angle, bloody cries of agony coming from it. Terror surged through my body as I got the fuck out of there, screaming.
I stumbled out of the hall, having dropped the keys in the showers, all eyes turning to me. The gym teacher marched over, grabbing me by the shoulders.
“Hey, hey Jeff what's going on?” She asked, trying to make me turn to face her.
I didn’t know what was going on, everything was too much, I couldn’t handle all of this shit at once. My body was shaking, It was like I was a deer in headlights.
“Woods! Get it together!” She hollered, striking me across the face, bringing me back down to Earth, albeit very painfully.
The gym went silent, the teacher sending back one of the other kids to get the keys I dropped. I felt so embarrassed, I wanted to cry and bolt. She took me to the sides and sat me down on a bench, a few guys coming past me, giving me awkward looks. I’d probably do the same after seeing a screaming kid get bitch slapped by a teacher.
I sat there for a while, trying to cope with what the fuck I just saw. It had to be me losing my shit and not taking my meds. Ghosts aren’t real, it had to just be me seeing stuff. It was probably just the way the room was set up and how some shadows fell. It was just so weird, and scary. Even if it was in the shadows, how could I have heard crying? Why did the baby look so real? All these questions were making my head hurt...
“Jeff, sweetie you ok?..” I heard a soft voice ask, looking up to see the gym teacher.
“No ma’am..” I admitted, the woman sitting down next to me with her hand on my back.
“What’d you see back there?” She asked, looking over at me.
“You’re not even gonna believe me Coach G..” I mumbled.
“Any answer’s an answer sweetheart.” She told me.
“I saw a baby..” I whispered.
“You’re gonna have to speak up a little bit sweetie.” Coach G told me, leaning in with her ear so she’d hear better.
I hesitated, before letting out a sigh, answering again, “I saw a baby, a dead one.” I told her.
Coach G went silent, I looked over, the color drained from her face completely. She was almost as white as the tennis shoes she was wearing.
“Coach G? Are you ok?” I asked, concerned.
“Nobody’s ever told you about the incident?” She asked, her motherly brown eyes becoming cold and unnerving.
‘What incident?” I returned, a bit scared.
“Well, back in 2009, there was a girl, she’d been pregnant and had her baby in one of the showers. She didn’t want it, so she snapped its neck. Not too long after she died from bleedin’ too much.” She explained, a grave expression on her face.
I sat there, my face losing its color in fear. I’d just seen the ghost corpse of some girl’s dead newborn. I felt sick to my stomach, what the absolute fuck?
After that class, I fucking dipped, to say the least. I wasn’t spending the rest of the day in school knowing full well there was some creepy shit going on. I quickly texted Keith, asking him to help me ditch, to which he thankfully agreed. I waited in the pool room, raindrops slamming onto the skylight roof above. I leaned up against the wall, staring at the water, the buzzing of the lights overhead accompanying the thunder and lightning.
I waited there for a while, closing my eyes, opening them once more, only to see a floating body inside of the pool.
I screamed again, running for the door, slamming my hands against it as I forcefully shoved it open, running outside into the unforgiving storm. I didn’t even have to wait before I saw Keith’s car pull around the corner. I ran over to sit, barely giving him time to stop as I swung the door open and got in, slamming it shut.
“Jesus Christ, what’s up with you dude? You look like you just saw a ghost.” He laughed, locking the doors as he pulled off.
“Cause I just fucking did Johnson.” I snapped, shaking.
“Hey, calm down, you’re cool now dude.” He told me, reaching over with his free hand to pat me on the shoulder.
I exhaled a large sigh, looking at the road ahead of me as Keith drove us. The windshield wipers pushing back the water now and then. The silence setting over us again, my eyes trailing to the gloomy scene outside.
All I could think about was what I saw back at school. Was Coach G trying to pull my leg? Was that body in the pool even a body? Was I just being a forgetful bitch and not taking my meds? I groaned softly, leaning my head back as my eyebrows bent downwards in frustration.
I saw Keith glance over to me in the corner of my eye, gently patting my forearm with his hand.
I felt my hand snatch him, holding his palm captive within my own. Keith was taken by surprise, but I didn't care. I was so scared, confused, and upset. My heart slowing down as he gently began to caress the top of my hand with his thumb. The two of us sitting in a nice silence for the rest of the rainy drive back.
Once we got to his house, I kicked off my shoes, greeting a few of his absolutely weird pets before I trailed upstairs into his room.
I flopped myself face-first onto his bed, breathing in the comforting scent of his room. Cigarette smoke, black coffee, and teenage boy. I grabbed the blankets, curling myself up in them as I heard Keith coming up the stairs and down the hall.
“Ma maison est ta maison?” He laughed.
“Oui.” I chuckled, Keith, launching himself on the bed, landing on top of me. “Dude get your skinny ass off me!” I laughed.
“Hmmm, no you’re a nice pillow bro.” He snickered.
“I’ll pick you up, no cap.” I threatened.
“Bet.” He smirked.
“Bet,” I repeated.
“No balls.” He poked.
“None.” I giggled.
Keith tried to shoot a reply back, but I beat him to his words. I pushed my arms up underneath him as I picked him up bridal style, standing straight up.
“Told you I could do it.” I gloated.
“How-” He spoke, confused.
“I go to the gym,” I answered.
“Roid midget.” He mumbled, yelping as I dropped him back down on the bed.
“I’m not a midget,” I whined, Keith, staring at me in the eyes, before smacking me with a nearby pillow, bringing me down onto the bed.
We lost our shit laughing, smacking one another with the pillows on his bed, Keith got me a few times in the face.
After a while, we both got tired. I flopped on my back, calming down as I finished laughing, tears in my eyes. Keith laying his head down on my stomach.
“You have like, no business being so fun to be around dude.” He told me.
“You ain’t got no business being so funny either,” I replied, my arms resting at my sides as I stared up at the ceiling.
We laid together for a short while until we both fell asleep to the sound of the raindrops dripping onto his bedroom window next to us.
#creepypasta#jeff the killer#jtk#creepypasta jtk#digital art#digital illustration#jeff woods#homicidal liu#my au#alternate universe#chapter eight#liu woods
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My Name Jeff
Hey everyone! I know you were all expecting chapter 8 and it’s coming today but first I wanted to share this idea I had. If you like it I will probably make it into a series or at least write another part. Hope you enjoy it and I can’t wait to hear what you all think about it!
The night was alive as the place bustled with drunk college students swarmed around them. The lens focused on them as craziness ensued. Chants of “Chug!” and “Shots!” resounded over the loud music. The smell of smoke and booze filled the air and stuck to their clothes.
“If you make this beer pong shot everyone here wins a thousand dollars” He yelled, commanding the chaotic scene.
Their drum-shattering cheers exploded around him. The shot was made and landed followed by shrieks and tears of joy as excitement spread across the room.
The red Vans climbed down the chair where he was standing. They were the only pop of colour amongst the sea of black that was his wardrobe. He smiled and was hugged by uncountable bodies.
As the first wave of excitement washed away and the madness died down he walked towards the door. Fresh air was in order. The sky was clear, the moon stood full and bright amongst umpteen twinkling lights.
“That’s crazy” He smiled looking at the door. And to be fair, it was. It was crazy that that was his job. Going to parties, hanging with his friends, doing insane stunts and giving away money were all part of his job description and he loved every last second of it.
“Yes, it is. Apparently there is some big Youtuber in there, David something. It’s like a cult, honestly. I saw the cars they came in and it blows my mind how those people can make so much money by just partying. It’s sickening.” A femenine voice said.
He looked for the source of the voice and found it sitting by the door in a pair of light wash mom jeans and a white long sleeved t-shirt. Her hair was up in a messy bun tied with a pencil and a pair of glasses framed her eyes. Her back laid against the brick building and her legs were extended in front of her, a book opened on her lap.
“I reckon you are not a fan.” David spoke amused at her hatred. It was obvious she didn’t recognize him, not that her eyes had even left the page she was reading.
“No, I’m not. I guess I’m just bitter that some of us actually have to work to make a living.” She didn’t raise her eyes for a split second.
David had encountered many people like her in his years of doing Youtube, most of them hid behind a screen name of course. Maybe that was why he wasn’t ready to end that conversation. He enjoyed people watching and that was the perfect opportunity.
“What are you reading?”
“Hmm… It’s just about… how the First World War changed the entire paradigma of the art scene inspiring visual artists to design new perspectives that provided a take on reality through a dream-like vision.”
“It seems like a light read. Perfect for a party.” He chuckled, taking a seat next to her.
For the first time she looked up at him. She had piercing dark eyes, David felt like her gaze could stare right into the deepest corner of his soul. She smiled and said “Art History”
“That’s a weird name.” He joked, earning a little chuckle.
“Right, Y/n. Sorry. And you are? Wait let me guess…” She examined him for a moment. “Hmmm… camera in hand, people watcher, you found the fact that I’m reading at a party interesting instead of disturbing… Sociology?”
“Nice.” He smiled.
“And your name is?”
“My name?” He panicked.
“Yeah, it’s an arbitrary combination of letters that your parents decided would be the way people would call you for the rest of your days. You do have one,right?” She giggled.
Just then his screen lit up with a text from “Jeff… My name Jeff. Sorry… is… my name is Jeff.”
Well done Dave.
She giggled again.
“It’s nice to meet you Jeff.”
“It’s nice to meet you too.” He said, shaking her hand. “So, Y/n, art history, what brings you, a girl who is reading about the impact of the First World War on the paradigmas of art, to a party tonight? And don’t tell me you came to see the Youtubers because I wouldn’t believe you”
She chuckled looking down and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I swear I’m not always such a loser. My friend wanted to come because she heard this David guy would be here. I was brought here because, and I quote, I “don’t know how to have fun” and “need to chill before I wake up one day bald from yanking my own hair out during the night because of all the stress I put myself under” ‘cause apparently that’s a thing.”
“Oh wow…” His eyes opened wide and he laughed.
“How about you? Why are you here? I mean, if you are here to see the Youtubers you are pretty much blowing your shot by staying here talking to me.”
If only you knew.
“No, I just came here with some friends.”
“You seem pretty sober… and who brings a big camera to a party anymore? Isn’t that what phones are for?” she seemed suspicious.
“Ummm…” he started panicking again.
“Are you a photographer?”
“Yeah” his voice broke. “I mean yes, I’m a photographer”.
“Oh, that is so cool. What do you shoot?”
“I mostly like taking pictures of my friends” Was he lying?
Just as he finished his sentence the door opened and out came a bunch of college students. He quickly lowered his head hiding behind his black cap. Once they were gone he noticed she was staring at him with confused eyes.
“I…” Saved by the bell, his phone started ringing. “ I need to take this, hold on”. He stood up and walked away so she wouldn’t be able to listen.
“Where are you, man?” Ilya said from the other side of the line.
“I’m outside.”
“I’m coming to find you. The party died down, we are all going to Saddle Ranch.”
“No! Wait don’t come here!” He panicked in a low voice, turning for a split second to see if Y/n was looking in his direction.
“What the fuck was that?”
“I’m talking to a girl. She doesn’t know who I am and she hates Youtubers so I told her my name was Jeff. If you all come out she might recognize someone or people from the party could follow and fuck this up.”
“Dude, what the fuck. You can’t lie to some girl about who you are. Just tell her.”
“She’s not going to want to talk to me if I tell her now”
“Why would you even want to talk to her if she hates you?”
“She is... interesting”
“Bro let’s go. You only like her because you know she doesn’t like you, you just want the challenge.”
“So what?”
“So ditch the girl and come with us, bro”
“No, dude. I’m staying”
“I’m coming to find you.” Ilya said before cutting the line.
Fuck.
He made his way back to where Y/n was sitting, her whole focus had turned back to her book.
“Hey, sorry about that. My friend wanted to let me know he’s leaving” He said sitting back down.
“That’s fine,” She said looking up.
The door opened again and Ilya came out. He looked at the pair sitting and a wide grin extended over his face.
“Hey Jeff, and hello…?” He smiled.
“She is Art History” David said, earning a chuckle from the girl.
“I’m Y/n” She said looking up at his friend.
“Ilya.” The boy said before going “Jeff, can I talk to you for a sec?”
“Sorry” David said getting up and walking with Ilya so she wouldn’t listen.
“Okay, I get it, she is hot. But if she hates Youtubers enough to tell you during your fifteen minute convo at a party then you have no chance, dude. I mean what are you going to do? Make her fall in love with you so she can see how prejudiced she was?”
“...yeah” David said after thinking about it for a second.
“Dude, quit fucking around. There is no way in hell that a girl who hates youtubers, studies art history and goes to a party with a fucking book would ever fall for you…”
“Why not? I bet you I can make her fall in love with me…” David said getting offended by Ilya’s statement.
“I bet you can’t.” Ilya said.
“Okay, how much?” David was getting railed up.
“Bro, this is stupid.”
“How much Il?”
“10 grand” Ilya laughed.
“Fine, make it twenty.” David said, feeling insulted by how little his friend believed in him.
“Dave, why? You could have any girl you want, why get fixated on the one who wants nothing to do with you? That’s just dumb.” Ilya tried to dissuade him.
“Are you going to take the bet or no?” David pushed.
“Fine. If you can make her fall for you in two weeks I’ll give you twenty grand.”
“Bro, what the fuck? You need to give me at least two months, people don’t just fall in love over night.”
“No way bro. Three weeks.”
“A month.”
“Fine” Ilya shook David’s hand. And David turned to where Y/n was sitting, nose buried in her book.
How the hell am I going to get that girl to fall for me in a month?
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FIC: Some Sense of Normalcy ch.2 (baon)
Summary: It’s Edge’s first day back to work at the Embassy, but his job isn’t the only thing on his mind.
Tags: Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Past Injury
Chapter 1 |
~~*~~
Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.
Read Chapter 2 on AO3
or
Read it here!
~~*~~
Stretch kept watch out the front window, waiting for Edge to drive off with Red at the wheel of his car and wasn’t that a question he didn’t have time to find out the answer. Then he went back upstairs to get dressed; he had places to be and of course today would be the morning that Edge decided to let his ridged adherence to his schedule slip.
It was pretty damned hard to nudge Edge out the door without making him suspicious, since all previous evidence pointed to Stretch trying to keep him in bed as long as possible and now that he was finally gone, Stretch needed to double-time it.
He hadn't lied about the video conference with his therapist, but that wasn't until this afternoon and there was something to look forward to. He had a love/hate thing going with Doc Lee, loved that she could help him collect all his thoughts back into the right baskets and get 'em back in order, hated that he had to actually talk about why they were scattered to begin with to get there.
In the meantime, he yanked on the first pair of pants and sweatshirt he found in his side of the closet. He was headed back downstairs, socks in hand, when the doorbell rang.
Stretch opened the door, leaning awkwardly on the jamb as he reached down to pull on his socks. "hey, andy."
“Morning,” Jeff said with a smile. He was dressed for work and Jeff’s style was a little less posh than Edge went for. No suit coat and his button-up shirt was a deep blue with a scattered floral pattern and a sort of long, gauzy white vest hanging open over the works. He looked good and Stretch didn’t mind telling him so.
“good thing i’m a math genius, your clothes are looking pretty acute there.”
Faint pink rose in Jeff’s cheeks. The kid didn’t take a compliment well, it was a work in progress. But he sure as heck proved his pun skills were up to par. “Thanks for going at the right angle so I don’t have to be obtuse about it. Are you ready to head out?”
“give me two minutes to feed the chickens and we can hit it.”
Stretch headed into the backyard, Jeff at his heels. Jeff stayed out of the coop in deference to his nice shoes and only watched as Stretch let the chickens out, scooping feed into their trough. Nugget came out of the coop last, not the normal order of things, gobbling her food with record speed. Probably wanted to book it back inside to her weird nest and that was another mystery on Stretch’s list. It’d keep for a day or two, and Stretch would take a dozen peculiar eggs, carton and all, to have her back home. He gave her a light pat, didn’t even mind when his affection was ignored in favor of the eats.
Meanwhile, Jeff wandered over to the freshly planted garden beds, peering down at the tiny points of green poking out. "So, do I get to hear why you didn't hitch a ride in with Edge?"
See, that was the problem with Jeff being pals with Edge; it made him concerned for Edge’s welfare and feelings and stuff. That was some double-sided sticky tape, ‘cause Stretch wanted Jeff to like Edge but not enough that he’d tattle. "that would be because he'd interrogate me about what i was doing."
"And you think I won't?"
"nah, you will, but you're more lucky to fall for the eyes." Stretch turned to him, feed bucket still in hand, and gave him the very best doe-eyed, pathetic look in his collection.
"okay, that is pretty effective,” Jeff admitted, “But, somehow, I don't think you're planning a surprise party. So, I have to ask, is what you're doing going to make Edge mad and that's why you're going behind his back?"
"nope." Probably not, anyway.
Jeff gave Stretch a scrutinizing look that would give Sans a run for his money. Well, maybe a leisurely stroll. “All right,” he said at last, “If I don’t take you to the Embassy, you’ll just take the bus, anyway. But if something is actually wrong or you need real help that isn’t solved by a quick lift, you tell me. Deal?”
“deal,” Stretch hesitated and added, “i promise.” Fuck it, Andy was his best friend, if he couldn’t confess to him at least a little, then he might as well start rethinking the title.
Stretch never really gave Jeff a rundown about how he felt about promises, but stood to reason that someone did. His expression softened into a lopsided smile and he jerked his head towards the house. “Then let’s get going before I’m late. Catty is a good boss but the last person in has to get coffee for everyone for the rest of the day.”
The ladies were still chowing down and Stretch left them to it, though he did double and then triple check that the gate was shut tight. Not that he’d ever accidentally left it open, but he was pretty resigned to being stupid about his chicks for a little while yet.
Jeff’s car was a sporty little compact with a surprising amount of legroom in the front seats and there was zero doubt in Stretch’s mind that Edge was the one who chose it with that feature in mind, along with every safety feature package that they could cram in without popping a seam. He didn’t wait for the seat belt speech, already buckling up, and they were off.
Crawling through the streets of New New Home to the security checkpoint and once they were through the gate, Jeff turned things up a notch. His cautious driving was only about a step down from Edge’s, but unlike Edge, Jeff didn’t say a peep when Stretch rolled down the window and let his arm dangle out, relishing the cool wind on his bony fingers.
Nice to be able to relax and enjoy the breeze. Edge would’ve bitched at him and he knew from experience that Blue would stop the car and refuse to move until he rolled the window back up, citing statistics about Humans losing limbs and heads all the while.
Yeah, okay, today wasn’t a good day to think about anyone losing their head. Stretch pulled his arm back in and let it sit more sedately on the window ledge. He could feel Jeff giving him a look, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t ask or probe or scold and that was why he was an awesome friend. Even if a couple times he’d asked about things Stretch didn’t like to think about, things from the past, from Underswap—
The sound of the wind through the opened window suddenly sounded a little too much like a brewing storm in Snowdin, the way they often swirled up across the narrow path that led to Waterfall. Dredged up memories that Stretch usually kept packed away, neat and tidy in a box of ‘past is past’. His head really wasn’t on straight today and—
Stop it, STOP IT—
“how’s things at the embassy?” Stretch asked abruptly. He yanked his arm inside and rolled the window up entirely, sealing out the blowing wind. Jeff didn’t seem perturbed about the sudden break in the silence.
“Great. Busy.” Jeff kept his eyes on the road, but his smile was honest and wide, “I know you’re going to put me off for saying this, but I seriously could never thank you guys enough for getting me this job.”
Stretch shrugged. “i didn’t have anything to do with it. i have less pull at the embassy than hussain, and i’ve heard what he did with the cafeteria.”
“The food is great,” Jeff agreed, “especially the falafel.” His quick side eye said a lot about how much he believed the rest of it.
It wasn’t that Stretch minded the gratitude, but it really wasn’t necessary. Yeah, sure, being his pal probably got Jeff’s foot through the door. That wouldn’t make Edge give Jeff a job that he couldn’t do or that he wouldn’t be suited for. Strategy was what Edge did, and if he thought Jeff would be great for Public Relations, Stretch was a hundred-and-nine percent sure he was right.
“anything i had to do with it was strictly by association,” Stretch told him, “you’re probably more lucky being my pal didn’t put them off, but eh, if they haven’t ditched edge, i doubt you’ll be in line.”
“I think if they fired Edge, half the Embassy would grab their staplers and follow him out the door,” Jeff snorted, “Speaking of lines, you want to stop for a coffee on our way?”
Seriously, best pals forever, “lead on, macduff, i’ll follow you anywhere.”
Jeff laughed even as he turned into the lot for the Beanery and headed for the drive-thru.
Jeff dropped Stretch off at the Embassy entrance before he went to park his car. Which was fine, he knew where he was going, and he didn’t need Jeff to hold his hand along the way.
The security guard only gave him a disinterested look as he swiped his rarely-used keycard and headed for the elevator. Not the normal elevators, the ones that led to the offices upstairs that Humans and Monsters used all day long, where you could press any button and be off.
No, the elevator to the labs was around the corner from those and needed a keycard just to open the doors, another swipe of the card with a password to activate it. Not all Monsters had access to all the labs, and their cards would only take them as far down as their security clearance allowed.
Stretch’s card would take him to any of the labs. All he had to do was swipe it.
He stood in front of the elevator, the card gripped too-tight in the clench of his fingers, staring at the closed doors.
When he’d texted Alphys yesterday, she’d been perfectly happy to meet with him, but said she couldn’t get away from the labs right now, so he’d have to come here. He’d assured her that it was fine and yesterday, it was. It’d been a relief, even.
Somehow while he’d been lying in bed the day before, lost in the tangle of his thoughts, the idea of his HP dropping again got hooked into his head. He couldn't stop thinking about it, none of his distraction techniques were working, his focus was fucking shot. All the clues that he might be having HP trouble were banging on the door, demanding to be let into his mind.
Like the fact that the lower his HP got, the wearier he was and just lately, he'd been feeling awfully damned tired. He'd gotten used to his HP being at five and the extra slice of energy that came with that. Falling asleep at random times in even more random places was becoming the exception rather than the norm and he fucking well liked it that way.
Last time Alphys checked him over, his HP was back on the rise, but it’d been a while. Lately, he'd been smoking way too much, using up a lot of magic healing, and he’d been so, so tired. He wasn’t the puzzle-fiend that his bro and Edge were, but even he could do one that only had a couple pieces.
Yesterday, Alphys’s assurances that he could stop in had been a relief, enough to make that worry back off a little and let him go back to his sour ball of grief over Nugget. Now that mourning was off the table, the reports of her death greatly exaggerated, here came his ghostly HP worries, trundling back in to for another go at haunting the inside of his skull.
After dinner, he’d gone upstairs to take a shower and stood there, looking at himself in the mirror. All it would’ve take was a quick Check, only a few seconds, and his stats would have spilled out right in front of his eye lights, letting him know exactly the state of his HP. Just a quick check and if everything looked good, he could tell Alphys never mind, he could stay home and take a day, not curled up on the bed but on the sofa, maybe, day-binging Netflix. Or outside, watching the chickens roam the yard, maybe see if Nugget would let him get a picture of that mystery egg she was so protective of.
Would’ve only taken a quick Check and Stretch just…couldn't. The magic was sitting there ready to be used and he couldn’t make himself pull the trigger on doing it. He couldn't do it and he sure as fuck wasn’t going to ask Edge. Like Edge needed any other problems on his radar? Not a chance.
So that cemented the plan right there. He was gonna go downtown and see what the deal was, and if it was bad, he would tell Edge. No secrets, not this time, no trying to hide this shit. Edge was going to have to deal with whatever fallout came down the line from his HP dropping, so may as well give him as much prep time as he could.
All he had to do was open the elevator door.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
Stretch startled so badly the world blurred around him in an aborted shortcut. The mostly empty coffee cup in his hands slipped though his fingers, spilling out a few creamy droplets when it hit the floor.
Jeff only went to the nearby cleaning station to grab a paper towel, crouching down to wipe up the mess while Stretch tried to remember how to breathe normally.
Finally, he blurted out, “you scared the shit out of me, andy!”
“I noticed and it’s extra impressive considering you don’t shit,” Jeff said. He tossed the cup and dirty paper towel into the trash can. “And you didn’t answer me. Do you want me to come with you?”
Stretch laughed unsteadily, “you don’t even know where i’m going.”
“I don’t,” Jeff agree. “What I do know is that leads to the labs downstairs. And I know you have trouble with labs sometimes, even your own. So. Do you need me to come with you?”
Jeff’s gaze was steady, calm, and beneath it was that warm gentleness, the compassion on his face as obvious as the soft green of his soul. It was hard to resist the urge to grab onto him and drag him downstairs, fuck all the security protocols, but that would be plowing over all kinds of boundaries and Stretch wouldn’t be the only one getting in trouble over it. He wasn’t about to damage anyone at the Embassy’s trust in Jeff over his own stupid issues.
“nah,” Stretch forced a smile, “you need to get upstairs before you’re the designated coffee runner for the day.” Then, when Jeff didn’t move, he said, more seriously, “but you can hit the button for me. if you want.”
Jeff stepped up but instead of pushing the button, he wrapped both arms around Stretch’s rib cage and hugged him tightly. All of Stretch’s good intentions snapped like the elastic in an old pair of undershorts; all he could do is lean down and hug Jeff back, his slim body giving in a way that bone simply couldn’t. Jeff was softer and squishy and so very Human, the best part of humanity.
If anyone came down towards the elevators, Stretch might’ve let go sooner. As it was, they stood there an embarrassingly long time for whatever security cameras were probably watching. Jeff didn’t let up an inch, held tight and let Stretch be the one to step back first.
Stretch shook his arms out, gave himself a full body shake. He could do this.
“okay, i’m heading down,” Stretch said firmly. He pushed his card into the key slot. “hit it.”
Jeff did and the elevator door slid open smoothly. Stretch stepped inside and the doors were closing almost before he could turn around.
“You can text me whenever you’re done!” Jeff called through the narrowing opening. The door closed completely before Stretch could reply but that was okay, Jeff would know his answer without him saying a thing.
He pushed his keycard into the control panel slot and tapped in his password; the calendar numbers of his wedding anniversary used in a linear equation. The elevator lurched hard enough to unsettle his non-existent stomach and started downward.
No big deal, Stretch told himself, struggling to pull his keycard back out with sweat-slick fingers. He rubbed them impatiently on his pants and tried again, and this time the card came free, just as the elevator doors opened into the gleaming stainless steel and glass of the labs, all clean sterile lines, nothing at all like his own cluttered workspace. But it was all fine, he wouldn’t even be in the lab long, Alphys always took him right to her office.
Right on in and she could do all her tests, let him know the state of his body and soul, that was it, yep.
No big deal at all.
tbc
#spicyhoney#papcest#keelywolfe#underfell#underswap#underfell papyrus#underswap papyrus#by any other name
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FFT: it all started with glow paint; jeff hardy
Notes:
Did I ever mention to ya’ll that I am legit still in love with Jeff Hardy? No? Oops, sorry. Anyway, this ask came into my main from @xladyxfatex and I had to move it to this blog, of course. Couldn’t lose this one. I had fun writing Jeff again. Perhaps I’ll write even more Jeff Hardy in the future? Who knowsss.
Summary:
Iris decides to ditch a girls night out and sneak down to the room Jeff hangs out in whilst he’s painting. Flirting and playing with glow in the dark paint and making out ensues.
Warnings:
uhh.. paint in places not a canvas. mentions of nudity. innuendo. steamy makeout.
Pairing:
Jeff Hardy x OFC, Iris
His taller muscular frame filled the doorway to the dressing rooms and he chuckled quietly to himself. Inside the room, Iris wiggled her hips as she whipped her hair around and giggled quietly. He’d overheard her earlier saying she was getting ready to go out and quote-unquote “Dance her little ass off.” and just the thought of other men seeing her like she was dressed currently had the North Carolina native up in arms. He nearly shot a foot into the air as he felt a finger tapping the back of his shoulder.
“Being a creeper again, I see?” Lita gave a soft and knowing smirk as Jeff tried to play it off. Trish was quick to speak up and call him out. “ Ya know, if you just actually made a move as opposed to skulking around and taking out pretty much any other guy who shows interest, Jeffro.. You might possibly get somewhere. Something to think about?” Trish mused with a soft laugh as she shut the door in the man’s face, drawing a pout to his lips.
Trish and Lita shared a look and wandered over to the newest hire to the roster, flanking her on either side. “Happy 21st!”
“I know right? I can finally legally drink!” Iris giggled, sitting down the almost neon pink lipstick she’d been about to put on, staring at herself in the mirror. She realized that Lita and Trish were staring at her and then kind of trying to subtly have a muted conversation over her head and she cleared her throat. “Okay, out with it. What’s going on, huh?”
“Well…”
“Here’s the thing, tiny.” Lita took the lead. She knew Matt and Jeff better and she knew that Jeff was literally never going to step up. But he would keep taking on every single guy who even dared look at Iris wrong and earlier tonight, he’d almost bitten off much more than he could chew when all 3 members of the Brood tried ganging up on him. It had taken Matt and one or two others just to break up the insanity at the end.
It had taken Jeff at least two hours to calm down and stop threatening to go and find Edge and kick his fucking head in for whatever thing he’d done or said towards Iris that Jeff wasn’t particularly fond of, too. Lita just hadn’t seen Jeff get that way before, so she knew that whatever he was feeling was real and until he got it out, it was going to keep him from having his head totally in the game.
“Yeah?”
“ Remember how you were telling us you thought a certain Enigma was so hot?” Lita teased gently, laughing to herself at how easy this was potentially going to be as soon as she saw the look on the younger female’s face and saw those big brown eyes getting that dreamy and faraway look she often got whenever Jeff Hardy was concerned.
Iris eyed Lita with a raised brow and a hand on her hip, the other one tangled in long blondish brown waves. “Yeah? And?”
“What if I told you that the Enigma in question might feel the same way?”
Iris started to laugh but her laughter trailed off as soon as she saw the calm serious looks on the two older females faces while they stared at her. She swallowed hard and muttered in a quieter tone, “Okay, you have my attention..”
“But you know how shy he is, Iris.” Lita started, Trish chiming in in a velvet purr, “Sometimes men.. They have to be lead.”
“Lead, huh?”
“Mhm. And maybe, Iris, if you were to go down to the room he always disappears to.. Maybe you’d have a better time tonight than if you were going out drinking with all of us like we planned.” Lita finished, nodding towards the door, giving the other female a gentle push towards. Iris swallowed hard, her hand poised to reach for the handle.
Trish tossed a tee shirt at their friend and called out through laughter, “You might want to actually finish getting dressed first, goofball.”
“Good idea.” Iris tugged the shirt down over her body and opened the door, taking a deep breath. She had to relax. She knew Jeff wasn’t the kind of guy who’d ever really.. approach her first, Lita and Trish were right. If someone was going to do something, it clearly fell to her.
She wandered down to the area Jeff always hung out in to paint or play his guitar and she’d been about to raise her hand to knock, but instead, she quietly pushed the door open.
Jeff stood there shirtless, the shirt he’d been wearing earlier tied around his hips as he stared at a canvas that glowed with several varied shades of pink and purple and orange. He didn’t hear the soft click of the door as she closed it. He didn’t hear her tiptoeing softly across the room either. She pressed against his back and he tensed a little, muttering a quiet “What the fuck?” before turning around.
“Iris? Hey.. What are you doin here, darlin? I thought you were goin out with Lita and Trish.”
… come on mouth, work!… Iris took a few deep breaths and pressed herself against him, staring up, lazily pressing a fingertip against those kissable lips of his. “Well, see.. I got to thinking.. I can go out and drink anytime now.” Iris trailed off, getting distracted by bright and deep jade-colored eyes and Jeff’s breath caught in his throat as he muttered huskily, “Yeah?” and his arms wrapped around her, hands locking across her lower back. Iris grimaced at the cold wet paint that he’d had smeared on his hands that was now on her skin and before she could stop herself, she was whimpering at the lingering touch. It seemed to make something snap in Jeff and he pulled her even closer, leaning down and pulling her up slightly. “So you want to spend your birthday with me, hm? Am I getting that right?”
“Mhm.” Iris practically purred the one-word response and Jeff gripped her more firmly, clearing his throat. When he spoke again, it was with a hint of a smirk. “Sweet.” as his hand squeezed her ass, grinding her against him in the process. Iris hissed at the feel of more cold and wet paint on her body. With a giggle, she reached out, grabbing a paintbrush covered in pink. “Ya know, this is my favorite color…” she drawled, painting an arrow pointing down his abdomen. Jeff swallowed hard and chuckled quietly, “Really now, Darlin? I hadn’t noticed.” he pretended to be totally shocked and as he was staring down at her intently, his hand reached back, grabbing for the paintbrush he’d discarded when she snuck up on him. He dipped the brush into the pink paint and gave a low, dark chuckle as he slid the brush down the front of her shirt similar to the way she’d done to him.
Iris reached up, the paintbrush clattering to the floor quietly and taking his face in her hands, she pulled his mouth against her own as deep as she could manage and somehow, he managed to further deepen the kiss to a point where Jeff Hardy honestly couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. He was picking her up, sitting her on the edge of a table nearby. His hands slipped down, fingertips toying with the hem of a tee shirt.
One of his merch shirts, to be exact. He started to tug it upward and Iris gave a shaky gasp, her hands moving over his chest, dragging through wet paint as her legs circled his waist. The more his tongue tangled and dominated her own and the more light-headed she became, the further she wanted to push it. Her shirt settled on the floor and the shirt tied around his waist did the same. Purple glowing paint-covered hands roamed back up her body, gripping her breasts and squeezing them together as he bucked into her and growled against her neck at the way her quiet whimpers and soft pleas filled the quiet between them. Her white bra was now glowing purple on either side and as his hands gripped her thighs and squeezed, purple handprints lingered on soft skin, making her nip at his bare chest and making him whimper almost helplessly as she started to nip and bite her way down.
He stopped her, shaking his head, leaning her back on the table, leaning down into her. “Oh no, birthday girl. No. Tonight, I’m gonna take care of you..” he drawled as his lips ghosted over her abdomen and he fixed lust filled jade-colored eyes on her intently, his tongue slowly dragging over his lips….
#jeff hardy fanfiction#jeff hardy fanfic#jeff hardy fic#jeff hardy oneshot#jeff hardy imagine#// fluff and slight innuendo#// things get kinda.. steamy.
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Drunk Punch Love: Chapter 8
Pairing: FemShep and Garrus Vakarian (Shakarian)
Rating: PG-13 (with some tossed F-bombs)
Summary: Their awkward, badass journey through saving the galaxy and accidentally falling in love
The emptier the ship got, the more apparent it was that the ones left were avoiding her.
Chapter 8: Bloody Workout Gear
Quite a few of the crew-members from the Saren mission were taking shore leave on the Citadel, while the Normandy was hopping around the galaxy, taking people home. Tali had gone back to the Flotilla, despite Anya insisting that she'd buy a few junk ships and be her new flotilla if she wanted. And they were currently on their way to drop Wrex off on Tuchanka. He decided, after all their time together, that maybe he should head back and try to bring some order to his people. After all, there was a war coming and Krogan enjoyed a good war.
But it was a little awkward when Kaidan and Liara were still on board and she sometimes went days without seeing them. Liara spent most of her time in her science office, analyzing any Prothean artifacts they had and preparing for her next research position, which they were taking her to after Wrex was gone. And Kaidan was always spending his time with Chakwas, Joker, or working with newer recruits. Basically anything away from Shepard.
Even Garrus seemed to be avoiding her. He kept on saying he was busy with some calibrations, always under the Mako, or working on their guns. She thought they were finally good, actually more than good, after Ashley's funeral. But maybe they weren't.
Anya knew that Kaidan had a very good reason to avoid her; she broke his heart into too many pieces that night before Ilos, and she understood that. And she knew Liara was really overwhelmed by suddenly being the foremost researcher on everyone's new favorite ancient species. She at least apologized for continually ditching Shepard at every turn.
Garrus really was the confusing part; she had no clue what she did.
The only person left talking to her was Wrex. She'd have Joker, but Kaidan was holding her favorite pilot hostage as his own personal buddy, so that wasn't an option. It was kinda pathetic that the only person who would talk to her was about to abandon ship in a day or two.
At least the guy loved taking breaks to do some target practice.
"Your aim is shit today, Shepard."
Anya grumbled, took another shot at the target. This time, she hit a half-inch off. "It's not bad."
Wrex laughed at her, laying his own gun on his shoulder. He pointed a very accusatory finger at the target and said, "Yeah, sure. You and the turian can spend hours here waiting for someone to miss, but missing it every time today isn't that bad."
"Fuck off, old man."
Even though she put her pistol in the holster and tried to walk away, Wrex followed her. All the way upstairs to the kitchen, even. "So what's eating you?"
Anya didn't really want to hear it. "Absolutely nothing."
"You say that like a Varren gnawing off their own leg."
Turning around, Anya punched his chest plate. She was pretty over all his prying. The only good part of hanging out with him was their very short conversations. When did it suddenly need to get all serious? "What is it with you and comparing me to Varren?"
"I dunno, you're kinda like one. Vicious and badass, but kinda cute when domesticated."
"It sounds like you're calling me a dog." Shepard took her blueberry juice out of the fridge and poured herself a glass. It was hard not to notice how empty the mess was; empty enough that their voices kind of echoed.
Wrex sat down on a stool across from her. Mental note that if she wants to be bitter and alone, to remove all seating from the kitchen. "No clue what that is, but sure." He gave a pointed look between Anya and the fridge. She groaned, but maybe it would shut him up. She poured him a glass of some very dense Krogan beverage (non alcoholic) and slid it to him. Unfortunately for her, that didn't stop him from talking. "Hope you're not getting feeble on me. I'm expecting you to take care of the galaxy while I take care of Tuchanka."
"I wouldn't dare." When Wrex started drinking, Anya's prayers seemed to be answered. He was glugging down the- beverage? It smelled nice, but looked like sludge. She didn't really know what to make of it. The silent company was nice, reminded her she had friends but didn't remind her that she was off her game because of the other fickle crewmates.
Well, it was good until a certain pilot walked up. "Ooh blue juice? Pass me some of that."
Anya glared at him while she got out the juice, poured another glass, and then handed it to him. She hoped her annoyance seethed into the drink. "Joker, what the hell are you doing here?"
"We're stopped above Tuchanka. We got here early. No one tell you over comms?"
Looking between Wrex and herself, Anya shook her head. "Um, no. That's your job."
"Right... Well, I've taken to not broadcasting my location all over the ship. Sure, I may be at the pilot's seat 10/10 times, but a certain angsty biotic doesn't need to know that."
Shepard peered at Joker and crossed her arms. "Is that why you've been pinging everyone whenever you're in weird places around the ship?"
"Convinced Tali to give me a device that lets me say I'm anywhere without having to be there."
"C'mon, Kaidan can't be that bad."
"He's not, unless he's in a bug funk mood about a certain Commander rejecting him. Oh wait, he is." After frowning at her and rolling his eyes, Joker then turned to Wrex and said, "We told the drop ship that you'd be ready in thirty minutes."
The tall Krogan downed the rest of his drink. "Good thing I haven't packed yet." He waved at them before heading downstairs. Presumably, to do that packing thing. That left Joker, Anya, and the blueberry juice.
After a sip from his glass, Joker said, "So, haven't seen any cranky turians in your room lately."
Anya was about ready to throw her drink at him. Glass first, hopefully. "You shouldn't be seeing anyone in my room, because you shouldn't ever be there in the first place."
"A guy's gotta protect his bones, okay?"
"We're both nearly 30, Joker, maybe stop getting so drunk you need your old academy roomie to babysit you."
Joker took another sip, which seemed to be a sure sign of him saying something annoying. "So you are really bothered about not hanging out with Garrus lately."
"I'm going to break your dick, I swear."
"At least aim for a more impressive threat, Shep. Because that's not a hard thing for anyone to do."
Grumbling, Anya didn't want to dance around whatever stupid point he was trying to make. "Okay, fine. What do you want to say about it?"
"You two just seemed cozy, hanging out on that couch."
"We have a weekly movie night, this isn't exactly wild news."
"I know. Even more suspicious."
Anya was pretty over it. Joker was having too much fun dancing around what he really wanted to say, and she'd rather he just spit it the fuck out. Especially since she knew he was enough of a Kaidan beacon to need anti-lieutenant protocols. She didn't really want to have to deal with that right now, either. "Get to the fucking point, Jeff."
"All I'm saying is that you don't get very cozy with people. Exhibit A is literally stalking me around this ship out of heartbreak. I just want to get a feel on what's happening here. Mama bear would be interested if you're getting close to someone. She was pretty pissed you didn't tell her about Rike back in the day."
"One, why are you discussing my sex life with my mother? And two, there's nothing for her or you to be pissed or prying about. So shove off it."
"You say that, but I have eyes."
"Not for long if you keep this up."
"Fine, fine. I'm just saying, why aren't you talking to him?"
"I-" Before she could say anything, Wrex came upstairs, dragging Vakarian in tow. Garrus looked a little shell-shocked and Anya couldn't help but stare. Wrex didn't even let the poor guy wipe the oil grease off his face.
Then very loudly, Wrex announced, "Now, you two are gonna escort me down to Tuchanka."
While she and Garrus were just swallowing down the awkwardness between them, Wrex was shouldering his pack. Joker said, "I wish I could pack that fast. Damn."
Leaving her blueberry juice, Anya tried to get a handle on the very quickly changing situation. "I'll just go grab my armor-"
"No need, I just wanna show off that the so called "savior of the Citadel" has my back. Good way to start showing dominance and fixing shit up, right?"
Anya didn't even know how to argue. "I guess, sure. The workout gear will do."
He threw an arm around her and Garrus and then dragged them to the stairs. "Time to show my planet I'm back."
They followed him to the docking port in relative silence. Their next few minutes were spent entering a drop ship and watching the burning planet all the way to the surface. No one spoke. Wrex had this purposeful energy to him, and she didn't know what to say out loud that they hadn't already said the past few days.
But Garrus, across from her? He seemed like he was itching with something. He kept on fidgeting with his armor and checking the clips on his sniper rifle. Even that night she was a drunken idiot, he could look at her the next day. Albeit after a lot of awkward talking, but now he seemed a world away. What made it worse was that she had no clue how to reach him.
When they landed, Wrex was happy to walk out into the Krogan hub, with the blistering sun hitting his face. but when he exited into the harsh brightness, Anya suck it up and opted for the least tactful approach. She grabbed Garrus' arm. "I don't know what I did, but whatever it was, I'm sorry."
"Shepard, I-"
His answer was interrupted by Wrex calling them over to a group of nearby Krogan. The entire ship port experience was Wrex just dragging her around, telling slightly exaggerated stories of how badass he was to prove a point. She understood that for a merc coming home, this was the equivalent of networking. But with the turian on his other side, she couldn't help but feel like she had some things to say that were getting overrun by Wrex's posturing.
That is, until she felt a bullet whiz past her ear. She turned her head around and saw a trio of Krogan running their way. With a quick order to take cover barked at her companions, Anya dove behind cover as quickly as she could. From the looks of their armor, they didn't seem to have any merc gang affiliations, so her only source of information was the krogan in cover next to her. "What the hell, Wrex?! You told me not to wear armor!"
He shrugged. "I figured someone might come after me. Chances were low, but it definitely proves a bigger point if we kick their ass in no armor."
"You're not wrong, but I hate you for it. You owe me new workout gear if this gets bloody."
"I can do that."
Lucky for her, Wrex brought along the two best shots on the team. And even better, the krogan attacking were mostly relying on shotguns. They just had to shoot 'em out before they got too close. She just had to hope their durability wasn't great.
Just as they downed the lead krogan, she noticed a shimmer on the other side of Garrus. Any infiltrator knew what that meant. "Vakarian! Tactical cloak to your left." Garrus reacted accordingly and they shot the stealthy one down, but it made her a little more wary of what they were up against. Looking towards her krogan friend, she yelled, "Shit, Wrex, they must really want you dead."
"Great, huh?"
"Not the word I'd use for it."
Anya was about to peek out from cover and take some shots at the final krogan, but Garrus beat her to the punch. "Shepard, look out!" He was rolling from his cover to hers and dragged her to where Wrex was hiding.
And right after they got behind the metal crates, the final krogan barrelled through the box she'd been hiding behind. Her eyes met Garrus' and she said, "Thanks." The second she spoke, though, he released her waist like it was a ticking grenade and instead stood up, shot the krogan in the eye, and he dropped dead.
Wrex stood up and smirked. "That's the best welcome home present I've ever gotten."
"Bud, we're gotta have a conversation about what you find endearing." Taking a deep breath, Anya glanced down at her shirt and noticed there was a few drops of blood on her. They seemed to be coming from a forehead scrape from when Garrus dragged her away from the danger box. "Shit. And you definitely owe me new clothes."
"Technically Garrus did that."
"Yeah, but you're the one who made me come without my gear."
"Fine, I'll send the credits. But it was worth it."
When her omni-tool pinged with the money, she let out a sigh. It also emptied out any annoyance for putting her life in danger, since everyone always did that to her all the time. Including herself. "Tell us if you got too many assassins to handle."
"I think I'll be set after that display of quads." Then, Wrex turned to her and Garrus and pulled them into a hug. "Until next time." And when he stepped back, he gave Anya a wink. "Vakarian. Shepard."
She rolled her eyes, but played along. "Wrex."
And then he picked up his bag and walked off.
Anya should definitely be less surprised that they just had the most krogan goodbye in existence. But for now, she'd settle for getting off the damn planet. She just jogged her ass back to the drop ship. While Shepard wasn't one for running away, she also wasn't about to encourage any other krogan to try to fight her, not like this. If she was lucky she could rub out the blood and have two pairs of good workout gear.
Garrus followed behind silently and, in a few short minutes, they were closed up in the drop ship, her wound was bandaged, and they were heading back to the Normandy.
But that was when the real battle started. Anya hated to admit it, but Joker was right. She couldn't stand not talking to Garrus, and it had to stop. "Garrus..."
"Shepard, I'm leaving."
The words hung between them like a dead man. Her fingers felt numb. After too long of him not looking at her, Anya asked, "What?"
"When we talked, I figured out I wanted to do more for the galaxy. Like you do. And the next day, I got an offer to join the Spectres training program. I said yes."
Everything felt so dry and cold, the air, her skin, the energy between them. Anya didn't really know how to process it. But she did know what she should say, what was honest and true. "You'd make a great Spectre, Garrus." Then, she tried to add it all together, and still ended up lost and confused. "But then why were you avoiding me?"
"Because I didn't know how to tell you I was leaving. Or maybe I just didn't want to tell you." Garrus sighed and sat down next to her. "I know this is what I want, but that doesn't mean I want to leave you. I didn't want you to feel like that's why I did it."
"Of course not. I get it." There were a lot of feelings running around her head, but in all honesty? Few of them had anything to do with him. She was proud of him and admired him. He wanted to be a hero. How could she blame any of her fantastic team for wanting to make a difference, even if it meant leaving her?
The only real things making her pause were her own, irrelevant feelings of attachment to him. And they were her problem, not his. So, like a good friend, Anya shut up the feelings and added, "When do you leave?"
"Two weeks. We'll drop off Liara, check out Alchera for the Council, and then when we stop back to the Citadel to report, I stay."
Anya crossed her arms and gave him the most deadpan, serious look she could. "Well, we got a lot of movies to watch before that, then."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. You ever heard of James Bond?"
///
The thought of Garrus leaving literally cracks my heart so that’s fun.
I’m sick an burning my tongue with warm beverages like a proper knob, but posting this stuff and being my weird creative self with you folks help make it better <3
The true behind the screens drama is that I’m sick ALL THE TIME so sorry if that’s the narrative 50% of the time.
Anyway, thanks so much for reading, and double thanks to my lovely patrons:
Danyell Jones
Amy Connolly
If you'd like to support my writing and creations, please go check out my bio for more info :) (hint, I’m trying to buy a desktop to share more of my goon, fandom trash behavior with everyone. Any support is appreciated!)
#Shakarian#Drunk Punch love#femshep x garrus#Garrus Vakarian#Anya Shepard#Mass Effect fanfiction#bioware romances#Mass Effect#Wrex#Liara
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Chapter 12: Stone's POV
A/N: Ugh, I keep forgetting to post! Sorry about that. I’ll try to post the next chapter soon. Please like and comment, it keeps me going!
TW for vomiting
They make it to Bakersfield – like four hours – without talking, aside from occasional pleasantries. Stone thinks Eddie might even be asleep at one point, and he’s getting pretty tired himself when Eddie suddenly says, his voice hesitant and awkward, “Did I… do something?”
“What?” Stone asks in surprise, because he’s been really spaced out and his brain has to catch up. “Like what?”
“I don’t know,” Eddie says uncomfortably. “We were talking and stuff and now it’s… never mind.”
“Okay,” Stone says, and he knows he’s being an ass but he’s too tired to care. Eddie turns away and stares out his window and Stone can see in its reflection he’s starting to tear up. He sighs. “Ed…” he starts, but can’t think of anything else to say. He’s not mad at Eddie anyway, he’s guilty, but he can hardly say that. “I’m just tired,” he finishes and feels even worse for lying, but Eddie glances over and he looks so relieved Stone can’t help but feel a little better.
“Okay, that’s fine,” he says, offering a tiny smile, and Stone nods. “We don’t have to talk then.”
“Cool,” Stone says. Silence for a few minutes. Then, “Uh, do you maybe want to drive for a while?” He thinks it’s a little rude to ask, but his eyes are actually burning and he keeps thinking there are dark shapes in the road, so maybe it’s safer if Eddie drives anyway.
“Yeah, of course,” Eddie says, and Stone pulls over instantly, rubbing his eyes for a minute before he climbs out and walks around to the other side, his legs aching. He pauses to stretch for a moment before he climbs in the passenger seat; Eddie’s already in the driver’s side, waiting.
“Are you doing okay?” Eddie asks cautiously as he pulls out. Stone glances over, frowning.
“Yeah, why?” he says, and wonders if maybe Eddie’s asking so he’ll ask too. “Are you?”
“Yeah…?” Eddie says like it’s a question, seemingly equally confused. “I just meant because you’re pretty quiet, you know.”
“I’m just tired,” Stone says again, resting his head on the headrest. He doesn’t bother looking over to see if Eddie believes him – he’s busy trying not to think about Beth on the off chance Eddie can read minds.
“Okay,” Eddie says after a minute. Then he adds in a rush, “Just because Chris is fucked up doesn’t mean you can’t be.”
“I know,” Stone says, clenching his hands into fists and forcing himself to breathe evenly. “Can we just keep driving, please?”
Maybe Eddie hears something in his voice, because he nods and stops asking questions. There’s silence for a long minute and Stone suddenly wishes he was with Andy, a painful ache in his chest that says that Andy would know exactly what to say and how to make him feel better, and all of a sudden he hates Eddie for being Eddie and not Andy, for being necessary.
“What?” Eddie says, making him jump, and Stone realizes that he’s glaring.
“Nothing,” he says sharply, and goes back to staring out the window. What the fuck is wrong with me? He suddenly feels like he can’t control or hold back any of his emotions, and it comes up all at once by throwing up.
Everywhere.
“Holy shit!” Eddie shrieks, slamming on the brakes and nearly going off the road. Stone squeezes his eyes shut, nauseous.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans out, looking at his car. Now it’s stained with both Chris’s blood and his puke.
“Okay, there’s a gas station up here,” Eddie says through his hand over his mouth. He looks like he might throw up himself. “We can get some paper towels, we have more clothes in the back –” He gags violently. “Shit.”
“I’m sorry,” Stone says miserably, digging a couple of napkins out of the glovebox and fruitlessly trying to wipe himself off.
“Don’t, you’ll just rub it in,” Eddie says, a little sharply, and Stone winces and stops. That’s the last thing he needs.
“Fuck, this is gonna smell for the whole trip now,” he mutters. Eddie wrinkles his nose.
“It’s only a few more hours,” he says weakly, pulling into the gas station. “They probably have air fresheners or something in there anyway.”
“Yeah, true,” Stone mutters, and carefully unbuckles his seatbelt and holds it away from his body. Eddie gets out and goes inside, and after a few minutes returns and opens Stone’s door, handing him a wad of paper towels.
“Okay, uh, try to step out and wipe your stuff off a little and I’ll get your bag out of the back.”
“Cool,” Stone says, because this is actually a nightmare and it’s all he can think of to say. He carefully stands up, shaking the puke off his shirt, and peels it off, wiping himself off with the paper towels. He ditches the shirt – it was pretty old anyway – and pulls off his shoes.
It takes them almost a full hour to clean up the car – and Stone – before they load it up with about ten air fresheners and finally start driving again. Stone stays totally silent, still utterly humiliated, and Eddie is clearly too busy pretending he’s not gagging to carry on a conversation.
“Stop,” Stone snaps, suddenly angry. It’s almost more humiliating for Eddie to pretend it’s not bothering him than to just admit it.
“What?” Eddie asks innocently, and Stone glares at him viciously until he sighs. “Okay, it’s not that bad. I just have a weak stomach.”
“Jesus,” Stone mutters, not even sure why he’s so upset. Again, he finds himself wishing he was with Andy, and then he feels guilty. Eddie’s fine – he’s just not the right person right now. It suddenly occurs to Stone that Andy’s mom has been calling – he could always ask Eddie to stop again and call her back. He’s just opening his mouth to tell Eddie to find a place to stop when he remembers they’re already an hour off track.
“What?” Eddie says, looking over. Stone shakes his head. “What were you going to say?”
“Nothing,” Stone says, and realizes how petulant he sounds. He sighs. “Andy’s mom has been calling me.”
“Oh,” Eddie says, still seeming a little confused. “And… you want to know why?”
“No, I was just… thinking,” Stone says. “Of calling her back, but we’re already off track.”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, looking a little guilty, like he was the one who puked everywhere. “I mean, we can stop if you need to…”
“I’m good,” Stone says, like it would be ridiculous not to be. “Just keep driving.”
“Okay,” Eddie says. “Uh… want to play the questions game again?”
Stone shakes his head, and feels a little guilty at how disappointed Eddie looks – but not disappointed enough to play Twenty Questions with him. He would rather jump off a cliff than talk right now.
Around three, they stop at a gas station and load up on coffee – they still have two hours left to go. Stone is so tired he’s starting to cheer up out of sheer delirium, and Eddie’s clearly had way too much caffeine – they’re both laughing so hard the car is swerving all over the place, and Stone can’t even bring himself to be worried.
“Jesus,” he gasps out. “It can be taken different ways, okay, it’s not –”
“That’s what she said!” Eddie nearly screams out, and Stone starts choking again.
“Oh my god,” he wheezes out, and Eddie swerves so hard they go into the oncoming lane for a minute, barely missing a passing semi. For a second they stare in horror, and then Eddie takes a giant sip of coffee and Stone cracks up again, and Eddie does too.
“Okay, pull over, pull over,” he croaks out, because his car is in serious danger. Eddie is roaring with laughter, but he somehow guides the car to the shoulder and they sit there for a minute just doubled over, tears streaming down their faces.
“Okay, I think that’s enough coffee,” Eddie giggles, and Stone picks up the cups and dumps them out the window, making Eddie shriek with laughter again.
“Stone,” he chokes out, pounding his knee desperately, and Stone bursts out laughing too. He can’t help it.
“Okay, okay,” he says after a minute, calming a little. Eddie is still grinning. “We gotta start driving again.”
“Fine,” Eddie laughs out. “You wanna drive?”
“Sure,” Stone says, hopping out. He shoots Eddie a quick smile as they pass each other and settles into the driver’s seat. “Where exactly are we going, anyway? Do you still have the map?”
“I think it got puked on,” Eddie says, clearly trying not to laugh again. “It’s okay, once we get into San Diego I can just tell you where to go. Probably.”
“Oh, that’s reassuring,” Stone says sarcastically, but he smiles so Eddie knows he’s joking. “I guess I’ll just keep going the same way, then.”
“Sweet,” Eddie says, and Stone instantly starts laughing again.
“You are such a surfer,” he says, and Eddie laughs a little, embarrassed. Stone elbows him lightly. “Cowabunga, duuuude,” he says very sincerely. Eddie just rolls his eyes, smiling. “You know you love it,” Stone tells him.
“Definitely,” Eddie says. After a minute his smile fades a little. “How do you think Chris is doing?” he asks cautiously. Stone sighs.
“At this time of night, he’s either passed out or blissfully drunk,” he says, and Eddie shoots him a look. Stone frowns. “He’s fine,” he says seriously. “Jeff’s with him, and if he’s not, it’s because he’s fine. So you have nothing to worry about.”
“I know,” Eddie says reluctantly. “I guess I just have to get used to it.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of all this stuff,” Stone says. “And despite how people act, you’re not the only transplant. Jeff is from Montana, actually, he hasn’t lived here that long.”
“Really?” Eddie says in shock. “Everyone’s acting like I’m such an outsider – I mean, not that many people,” he adds quickly, probably noticing how pissed Stone looks. He still can’t believe people are being rude to Eddie about that. “It’s just ironic, is all.”
“Yeah, it’s stupid,” Stone mutters. “People here can be real asses.”
“Most people have been nice so far,” Eddie offers. Stone nods, even though he doubts Eddie is telling the truth.
“That’s good,” he says. There’s silence for a while, and then Stone realizes Eddie is laughing quietly. “What?” he asks, glancing over and smiling. Eddie just shakes his head.
“I was just thinking… I really could’ve used that coffee,” he laughs, and Stone grins.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” he says. “We can always stop and get some more if you want.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Eddie says. “We’re already gonna be there really late, anyway.”
“Oh, should you call your mom so she knows we’re still coming?” Stone asks. “She was expecting us at midnight, it might be a little weird to show up at like six in the morning.”
“It’s fine,” Eddie says dismissively, and Stone raises his eyebrows in surprise.
“Are you sure?” he says. “I’d definitely want to know if I were her. And we’re gonna be really late.”
Eddie sighs heavily and Stone glances at him curiously. “The thing is… she doesn’t really know I’m coming,” he says, and starts giggling again.
“What?” Stone chokes out. “She doesn’t know we’re coming? Will she even let us stay there?”
“Yeah, of course,” Eddie says, but he doesn’t sound convinced. “It was her idea for me to visit him, anyway.”
“So your plan was just for us to show up in the middle of the night and convince her to let us hang for a few days?”
“Well… yeah,” Eddie says, and Stone can’t help but laugh too.
“Jesus,” is all he can think to say. “Wow. This trip is a fucking mess.”
“Yeah,” Eddie laughs. “Ah, fuck.”
“Fuck,” Stone agrees weakly, smiling too. “Let’s get more coffee.”
“Can we afford it?” Eddie says, and they both crack up again.
“Not really,” Stone admits. “We can just take turns driving and napping.”
“Deal,” Eddie says. Stone shakes his head a little, smiling.
“What time does your mom get up, anyway?” he asks. “Will she be up at six, or is it one of those families where six is like the middle of the night?”
“I think she gets up around seven,” Eddie says doubtfully. “So it’s not like it’ll be crazy early. We’re fine.”
“Okay,” Stone says, although he’s still a little doubtful, especially about his presence – maybe Ed’s mom is cool with her son dropping by occasionally, but he doubts she likes him to bring his grungy friends. “Are you sure you don’t want to call or something first? Because we still can.”
“Stone, it’s like four,” Eddie says with a laugh. “She really would be mad if I called her right now.”
“Okay, okay,” Stone says reluctantly. “Just don’t want to spend the night in my car.”
“Too late for that,” Eddie says, and Stone laughs. “Don’t worry, she’ll let us stay. She’s very much a mom.”
“I believe you,” Stone says. “You know, by the time we get there we’ll have been up for almost twenty four hours.”
“Trust me, I know,” Eddie says, rubbing his eyes. “I think I’m gonna let myself sleep for a little while, if you don’t mind?”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Stone says. He figures talking to Eddie is only making him slightly less drowsy anyway. Eddie nods.
“Sweet,” he says again, and Stone hides his smirk. “Wake me up when you get too tired and I’ll drive.”
“Sweet,” Stone mimics, and Eddie shoots him a dirty look before he settles down and lets his eyes close. Stone turns his focus to the road.
“Hey, Eddie,” he says, thoughtfully, and then winces when he remembers Ed’s trying to sleep.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, opening his eyes just enough to squint at Stone curiously. Stone shakes his head.
“I wanted to talk about something…” he starts, but chickens out. “Your mom’s not a bitch, right?”
“Only sometimes,” Eddie says with a half-smile, and closes his eyes again. Stone sighs and settles back into the seat.
It’s going to be a long drive.
#music#music fanfiction#soundgarden fanfiction#soundgarden#pearl jam fanfiction#pearl jam#mother love bone fanfiction#mother love bone#grunge fanfiction#90s grunge#grunge#eddie vedder fanfiction#eddie vedder#stone gossard fanfiction#stone gossard#chris cornell fanfiction#chris cornell#alice in chains#jeff ament#kim thayil fanfiction#kim thayil#mike mccready#temple of the dog fanfiction#temple of the dog
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(Justin Foley x Reader): Convincing
Request: Can you do a Justin Foley one-shot where the reader is Scott Reed’s twin sister (younger by 10 minutes) and she’s best friends with Sheri, she helps Clay, Tony, and Sheri detox Justin, she and Justin get closer and end up dating, word gets out that Scott had been defending Bryce, she storms off and Sheri and Justin try to go after her but she says “don’t. I need my space”, Scott finds her and apologizes for not realizing the truth earlier, and he thinks she hates him but she doesn’t?
Summary: Reader gets more than she bargained for as she helps Justin detox, only to find out that he’s not the only boy in her life she should be worrying about when she finds out her twin brother has been defending Bryce.
A/N: whoop! Sorry it took so long to get to this request (I’m very backed up (writing-wise) at the moment, but I’m getting through them slowly but surely!)
“Why exactly is going to Clay Jensen’s house on the top of your priority list?” You ask Sheri as the two of you walk down the street. Sheri was your best friend, and now that she was back from a stint in juvie you were trying to make up for lost time, but when she suggested you come with her to Clay’s you were more than confused.
“Clay’s my friend -and I thought he was your’s too- but he called in a favor, and I owe him,” Sheri replies.
“Owe him what, exactly?” You ask as you walk up to Clay’s house.
“Thanks for coming guys,” Clay greeted the two of you as he let you into his room, sounding exasperated.
“Uh, Clay, what is Justin Foley doing laying on your couch in a blanket burrito?” You ask him slowly as your gaze trains itself on the face of a sleeping Justin.
“It’s a long story, but Sheri’s been helping me detox Justin,” He says.
You glance over at him slightly alarmed, “Justin’s a drug addict now?”
Sheri nods, “But hopefully not for much longer.”
Sheri got to work pulling stuff out of her backpack that the two of you might need while you sat down on Clay’s bed and stared at Justin’s sleeping figure, trying to figure out what the hell you’re doing here.
Sure, you’d run in vaguely the same circle as Justin last year, but you had never been friends. You mostly hung out with Sheri, Jeff, Clay, and Scott (when he didn’t ditch you for the jocks). You hadn’t really been close with him, and by the time the tapes got posted online, you were left with a grief-stricken Clay and your idiot twin brother as your only friends. You hadn’t really known what happened to Justin, and frankly, you didn’t really care, you’d heard the rumors about him running off somewhere, but you also heard the rumors that Bryce was spreading about how he ran because he made up the story about Jess getting raped because he was embarrassed that she cheated on him, so you weren’t really sure what to believe.
But the guy laying in front of you, all curled up in a duvet, wasn’t anything like you pictured him. He looked small, and sick, and...vulnerable.
When Justin eventually woke up Sheri started pumping him with liquids as he threw up over and over.
“He’s just gonna keep throwing up whatever you give him,” You tell Sheri while Justin groans over a garbage can.
Sheri gives you her infamous ‘no nonsense’ look, “We can’t let him get dehydrated, that will just make everything, especially the pain, worse.” Sheri glances at her phone before cursing to herself, “And by we- I mean you- I gotta get home before my dad freaks out. Can you handle this until Clay gets back?”
“Yeah, yeah, you go home,” You tell her dismissively, “I’ll take care of him.”
After an hour or so of you forcing Justin to drink Gatorade and stop throwing his blanket off of himself, Justin suddenly looked up at you from where he was curled up on the carpet.
“I still don’t get why you’re helping me,” He told you.
You sighed slightly, “Well, Sheri’s my best friend and after…. Well, she just got back, and if this is what she wants to spend her time doing, I guess I’m gonna do it too.”
“I just thought that since you hang out with Bryce and all of those guys that you wouldn’t want to associate with me,” Justin replies. You can hear the pain in his voice but you’re not sure if it’s from the withdrawal cramps, or if just talking about those guys is painful.
“For the record, I never really hung out with them. That was all Scott. But after everything, I just can’t bring myself to be around them anymore, y’know?” You tell him frankly, “Now stop throwing the blanket off, you’re shivering, dumbass.”
“Okay, mom,” Justin replies teasingly as he grumpily allows you to pull the comforter back over his shoulders.
After a few days of helping the others and babysitting Justin, the two of you had gotten weirdly close. After everything that had happened you certainly didn’t plan on developing feelings for him.
You tried to cojustce yourself that it was jsut a crush, I mean, every girl at Liberty High was in love with him, surely it was just a purely physical attraction that was just...latent or something. Yeah.
“Justin, can I ask you something?” You suddenly asked as you looked up from your book for English class. (y’know, the book you’d be pretending to read for the last hour).
“Of course,” He replied as he sat up slightly so he could look at you.
“Did you really just come back for Jessica?”
“Well, yeah,” He replied before thinking about it for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain his reasoning, “I need to make up for everything that I did to her.”
You nod at his answer before your next question flies out of your mouth before you can stop yourself from asking it, “Are you still in love with her?”
“I mean, I love her, but I’m not in love with her, not anymore. I think it’s probably best for both of us to leave all of that in the past.” He says before glancing over at you curiously as you quickly hide your head behind your book again.
“Besides,” He says after a moment, “There’s this other girl that I really like, and I think once I convince her that there’s nothing between me and Jess I’m going to ask her out.”
“Yeah?” You ask as your face turns slightly red, “And you think she’ll say yes?”
He shrugs, “I don’t know, will you?”
“I think I still might need some convincing,” You tell him with a slight smirk as you he moves towards you.
“Like this?” He asks before leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours.
He breaks away what feels like far too soon, “I think I need a little more,” You mutter as your pull him by the collar of his shirt towards you.
Days (of canoodling) later you found yourself sitting in the front row of the courtroom between Sheri and Justin on the day that Bryce was going to testify. Your fingers were tightly intertwined with Justin’s as you glanced around the courtroom nervously.
“Uh, (Y/N), why is Scott sitting over by Bryce?” Sheri asked suddenly as followed her sightline and looked over at the group of baseball players sitting on the other side of the courtroom.
“That little…” You mutter as you glance over at where your twin is sitting and piece together everything that’s been happening lately, “I-I gotta go,” You tell Sheri and Justin curtly before abruptly standing up.
“(Y/N)-” Justin starts as he tried to get up.
“Don’t. I just need some space,” You tell him before storming out of the
Scott looks up at the sudden disruption as you walk out and makes eye contact across the room with Sheri who gives him a look that could only mean, we tried, it’s your fuckup before turning away as Scott rushed to follow you.
As you rushed out into the lobby of the courthouse your mind was moving a mile a minute.
“(Y/N)! (Y/N) wait!” Scott shouted as he rushed out of the courtroom after you.
“Why are you defending that monster?” You ask him breathlessly as you turn to face him, “You know what he’s done, why are you here?”
“Defending him? (Y/N), please-”
“No, I should have known that there was a reason you’ve been weird lately.”
Scott looked at you with desperation in his eyes, “(Y/N), I just didn’t want to make things weird with the team. If things get tense then the season is shot and any chance I have of getting a scholarship goes down the drain.”
“But defending him, Scott? Was that really the only option you had? I know high school is a minefield, but you don’t have to defend a rapist. That’s not how this works.” You tell him as you cross your arms over your chest, “I told you that Justin came back, and that he was going to testify.”
“I fucked up, (Y/N), I get that, but please, I didn’t mean for anything to happen, I tried my best to get out of the hole I dug myself, but I’m so, so sorry.” Scott pleads with you, “(Y/N)?”
“You’re lucky you’re my brother.” You grumble, “I know you’re better than those assholes. I just need you to prove me right.”
“I promise,” Scott replies with a relieved smile before tightly wrapping his arms around you.
#13 reasons why#13 Reasons Why fanfic#13 reasons why fanfiction#13 reasons why imagine#13 reasons why reader insert#13rw#13rw imagine#Justin Foley#justin foley imagine#justin foley fanfic#justin foley x reader#scott reed#scott reed fanfic#scott reed x sister!reader#clay jensen
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Chapter 19
His hands are shaking from withdrawal or anger or both as he stirs the off-coloured liquid with the end of a syringe. His phone is pinging beside him, but he ignores it because he knows it’s Jeff asking where he is, and he can’t be arsed with it right now. He’s late. He knows.
Jules reckons he’s in over his head. He’s not making money like he used to, and he knows it’s because he got caught up in it all. He spends more time in the apartment than he does out on making deals these days. He’s barely making rent and Jules is charging him full for the drugs now and he was meant to be with Jeff and Dean an hour ago, sipping beer before they leave the apartment but instead, he’s doing junk on his bedroom floor because—
Hear him out. Everything’s just so fucking much recently. He’s always feeling so blinded and he just wants a bit of darkness.
Does that make sense?
The phone goes off yet again and he gives in, balancing the syringe on his knee as he sends a hurried text; ‘meet u there.’ He was meant to tell them ages ago. Most have forgotten.
After hurriedly drawing the liquid into the needle, he pulls the lace tight around his bicep to take the hit. When he’s done, he chucks the syringe into a mug and leans back onto the end of his bed. He’ll clean it later.
X-Ray Spex are playing so loud that the bass drowns out his pulse. The weight of it drags him into the ground, pins his hands down and his eyelids shut as he breathes through it; heavily through his mouth. He stays put for a while, listening to the music and letting the room evaporate around him until he’s floating in black tar.
He remembers listening to this album on a field with his best mate at seventeen, weed-high with his eyes shut and wishing he could disassociate; to stop feeling and smelling and seeing and hearing anything else around him. Just the music that made his brain jump about in his daft head.
Now he is buried in warm sand and all he can feel is the beat vibrating the ground and all he can smell is nothing and all he can see is black.
For a second, when the song ends and before the next one begins, he feels and smells and sees and hears absolutely nothing. Then Poly Styrene is chanting “I'm a cliché, I'm a cliché, I'm a cliché, I'm a cliché,” and all of his senses come back all at once.
He groans, counts to ten, and forces himself up from the ground. His legs fail him for half a second, but his elbow becomes acquainted with his dresser in time to stop the fall. He grabs a pack of fags whilst he’s there, counts himself in again, and slumps out of his room and through the apartment.
They’re going to a party tonight. It’s half ten at night and Jules has gone out for a fag, which he’d usually do inside but he’s pissed off as well.
He finds him sat on the curb outside, smoking steadily, eyes cast down to his phone. He looks up when the door shuts behind Curly, asks, “you ready,” and Curly nods.
They sit in silence in the car and split off when they get to the party. Curls finds Jeff and Dean almost immediately and sits with them in the living room, lighting a joint and sinking into the sofa as the conversation fills the rest of the air around him.
After an hour or so, Jeff asks, “Curls, are you good,” and Dean says, “man you don’t look right,” but he doesn’t feel like defending himself and he’s soon shuffling pitifully across the front yard to where Jules now sits on the curb with Oscar who’s fresh out of work.
Curls says, “I’m sorry, mate,” and falls beside Jules, arse hitting the pavement so hard his breath thumps and all the air within a twelve-mile radius fills his skull. He takes a long, deep breath to compose himself. “Sorry I’m a cunt, I aren’t like you. I’ve got nothing happening for me these days. It’s rubbish.”
He supposes he did blow up for no reason; didn’t want to come out tonight but didn’t want to be alone again. That’s all. He just wanted Jules to stay, because ever since he came clean about Jordan, he’s felt just a bit closer to his roommate, even if he never tended to say the right thing and, if anything, has become more distant than ever. He just wants someone to cling to for a while.
“That’s not my fault,” Jules scoffs, but he passes his lighter to Curly like a peace-offering. “You got fired. You ditched your guy. You cut your best friend off. You called your mom a… What was it?”
“A daft cow,” he mumbles, and they both laugh a little, but then pretend it never happened because they’re both still meant to be just a little bit angry.
“Right. You did that, not me.”
“I know,” he mumbles, and he feels so fucking minuscule. It’s not really that funny, is it? “It’s just… Shit. Feel like I’m going mental.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you need to get out more. Not just for deals,” Oscar chimes in now and great, he’s had enough of Curly, too. He wonders if Jules has filled their roommate in on Curly’s shit show. Jules nods along with Oscar.
“Yeah. I know, I know.” He doesn’t really know what else to say. “Can I nick a fag?”
Their place on the curb rings with a chilling silence, but the 'oh Curly’ type of laughter that follows washes the tension away and the air is breathable again.
The night feels easy after that and it turns out he isn’t fussed about being out of the apartment after all. The house is a bit rammed and Jeff is winding him up, giving him a look every time he opens another beer, but other than that, he feels comfortable. It’s the first time in weeks that he doesn’t feel like he’s buried in static and white noise.
“Hey Curls, you good?”
It’s a little later when Oscar nudges his shoulder and he’s drunk too, so Curly’s not embarrassed to slur his words.
“Yeh. Have y’got a lighter?”
“Ask me in thirty minutes,” Oscar says. “Oh, and Curls, go clean yourself up, man.”
Curly doesn’t understand why he has to wait or what he’s meant to be cleaning up, but he gets distracted soon after anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.
Dean kisses his cheek at some point. His beard itches and whilst he’s there he whispers, “you wanna crash with us tonight, buddy,” and Curly shakes his head but says, “cheers though.”
Dean’s wiping kitchen roll over Curly’s forearm and there’s a little blood on it but God knows why. Well, Curly knows why. Because he keeps forgetting to ‘rotate scenes’ or whatever it is Jules keeps badgering him about.
“Maybe you should head home,” Dean suggests. Curly walks off.
He dances alone in the kitchen for a bit, then in the living room and then talks to a bloke called Rooney about modern punks and how Curly reckons “it has a whole new meaning these days, and Morrissey is a complete arsehole. Always has been, mate,” but then realises Rooney is a knob who won’t pipe down about immigrants and all the rights he reckons they don’t deserve.
He tells Rooney to sod off and dances some more in the back yard instead with someone (or no one - who knows?)
Someone says, “your accent is bullshit,” and someone asks, “what are you on, dude? Got any spare?” Somebody else tells him, “yeah, no, I get it. Like I tried to go vegan once but…” something, something, something…
A boy with nice eyelashes tells him his hair is amazing and asks to touch it and, oh, at one point he speaks to a bloke named Henry. That’s his dad’s name and Henry says, “yeah, you already said.”
“Your hair’s growing like crazy,” Jordan tells him and... Oh.
Curly doesn’t remember starting a conversation with him, doesn’t even remember seeing him here. Doesn’t remember coming back inside from the back yard or how he ended up in an empty bath, fully clothed with him, shoes scuffing the sides of the tub.
“So why did you wanna talk to me in the bathtub?”
Oh. Alright. Wow, okay. Why did he want to do that?
He rubs his face. He thinks... He thinks. Think think think. Okay. The party was too full. Jeff said, “Curls, slow down,” and Dean said, “J, don’t bother. He’s had too much already.” Jules and Oscar went home (he thinks) and everyone said he should go with them, but he’s been having too much fun and doesn’t like being told when to stop.
“Everyone ’ad too much t’say.”
“Right… But what did you want to say?”
Fuck’s sake. What did he want to say? His head throbs when his temple hits the wall and, oh, was he tilting? Jordan’s hand slips between his head and the tiles, the other landing on the other side of his skull and bracing him.
“Curls, are you alright? Curly, hey.” Curly’s head is tilted back, J’s thumbs digging into his cheeks. “Open your eyes.”
“Yeh.” He does as he’s told, and it turns out his head isn’t tilted back after all, it’s just at the right angle to watch Jordan as he frowns. Didn’t even realise he’d closed his eyes in the first place. Why is he in a bath with— Oh, yeah. “I just… wanted t’say…. Fuckin’ell.”
“I’ll get Jeff-“
“No— jus’…” Curly’s hands are on Jordan’s face now, until the weight of them wins and they drop to his shoulders instead, grabbing the material of his shirt so they don’t fall away. “Are y’a’right?”
Jordan’s eyes narrow, his brows crease and his face tilts slightly. Then he laughs and Curly thinks God bless.
“You. You just wanna know if I’m alright?” His words are tinted with laughter and everything is warm and cool at the same time. “Yeah, Curls. I’m alright. Are you alright?”
He hums, blinking slowly, and when he opens his eyes, he’s on Jeff and Dean’s couch.
The apartment is dead quiet but there’s light coming through the blinds that someone forgot to close. He has a thick, knitted blanket draped over his top half, but he’s still got all his clobber on and his feet hang over the arm of the sofa, Dr. Martens weighing his ankles down. His arm is aching like mad when he feels around for his phone and when he looks down, he’s got a peeling plaster patched onto the crease of his elbow.
His phone has two missed calls and a new message. They’re all Jordan.
10:34 - text when your up
He’s ready to crawl up his own arse with embarrassment. He hesitates but texts back saying exactly that and, within two minutes, Jordan is ringing him.
He answers and forgets to say hello at first, but when he remembers, it’s sandy and his voice takes a second to wear in and the ‘h’ is missing.
“Morning. How’re you feeling?” Jordan’s voice feels worn and sleepy too and Curly can picture him now, in bed with his hair scruffy and his glasses on because contacts are too much effort for the first five minutes of his morning.
“Shite. Head’s killing me,” he grumbles, groaning as he rolls onto his back. “Fuck’s sake. Sorry for last night.”
Jordan laughs over the line and Curly hears him take a breath and reckons he’s getting out of bed or off the sofa. He wills himself to do the same, but only sinks further into the cushions as he listens to Jordan speak. “No need. You didn’t do anything.”
“Was I sick?” Silence. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, I was. Was it bad? Did I row with—“
“No, no,” he cuts him off and he’s giggling. Giggling. As if. “No puke, no rowing…”
Curly can’t quite decide if he wants more information or he’d prefer to stay blissfully unaware, so he stays quiet and waits for Jordan to decide for him.
“Your nose still bleeding?”
“What?”
“Never mind. Listen, about what you said last night: I get it. A’ight?” Curly racks his brain, trying to figure out what he could be on about, and Jordan must make sense of his silence. “If you don’t remember, it don’t matter, I just. I wanted you to know I’m sorry for—“
“Curly,” a voice chimes from behind him, and he finally pushes himself up from the sofa, met with Dean stretching his arms over his head as he makes his way from his room and towards the kitchen. “How are you feeling?”
“Is that…“ Jordan pauses. “Call me back later, yeah? We’ll talk about it.”
“No, it’s alright, now’s fine,” Curly insists, but the line’s already dead. Dean’s looking guilty, only now realising he’d been on the phone, but Curly says, “morning, mate. I feel like utter shit,” as he drops the phone into his lap.
“I bet you do,” Dean chuckles as he hobbles sleepily into the kitchen. Curly hears crockery clang as he calls, “hey, at least your nose stopped bleeding.”
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Everything Has Changed
Here lies my Rumbelle Secret Santa for @ittybittybitchywitchy she asked for karaoke and a Rumbelle duet especially the song Everything Has Changed by Taylor Swift/Ed Sheeran.
Chapter One
“You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when I met you”, crooned Neal far too loudly into his girlfriend’s ear. “No, I wasn’t. I met you when I found you sleeping in the back seat of my car”, protested Emma, “and you will never find a song to fit that scenario”.
“Ok, Ok, how about this?” Neal tried again, “You were working as a waitress in a karaoke bar when I first fucked you”.
“That much is true” she laughed, “but a rather vulgar attempt at a serenade. Plus, you are going to have to stop singing that song when Belle comes out because Gaz has been hammering it out none stop at her all night”.
“Ah shit, not again, is that why you wanted me to walk you two back tonight?” Neal worried. His girlfriend and her flatmate, Belle, loved their job at the “Top Hat”. But it was in a rather dodgy part of town and some of the customers got a bit too handsy by the end of an evening’s drinking and would hang around outside waiting to hijack anyone not coupled off. He lived in the flat above the bar, it was terribly noisy, but it was cheap and way better than couch surfing or sleeping in other people’s cars. Living above the bar had made him bouncer-in-chief for the two girls, they got an escort back to their flat and in return he got a quiet sleep-over with Emma. They also had heating, clean sheets, warm showers and a stocked fridge.
Belle finally hurried towards them, tottering in her ridiculously high heels and pulling her tiny coat on. “Can we get a taxi?” Belle sighed. “My feet are killing me. I think I have blisters on my blisters!”
“No way!” Complained Emma, “That would mean we worked the last hour for nothing! I’m going to have to cut down working so many shifts soon with exams coming up, I just need the cash. You should wear flats, I do keep on telling you. No blisters and your gorgeous ‘fuck me’ shoes don’t get waterlogged with slops”.
“OK Mrs Practical footwear and sensibly warm leather jacket, but you and Neal are going to have give me piggy backs or I will never make it. And they are the only way I can reach those glasses at the top. If they were ‘fuck me shoes’ surely I would have a boyfriend by now”.
“Haaa,” said Emma, “that is because you turn down every offer you get”.
“Ugh but I work in a troll bar, they are all disgusting!”
—
They ended up deciding to crash at Neal’s. The lovers curled up on the sofa together while Belle stretched out on the floor trying to tend to her battered toes. While they indulged in some ‘medicinal’ whisky the conversation returned to Gaz and his band of fellow ‘disgusting’ trolls.
“So, he took off his shirt at this point and hurls it towards Belle at the bar, thrusting and gyrating his hips and repeating ‘don’t you want me baby’, until Jefferson just pulled him off the stage.”
“It didn’t end there,” added Belle, “Notty and Gaz caught me on my break, they were on either side of me trying to grab my hand, so I positioned them until they were holding each other’s hands and made a break for it. They were too embarrassed to come after me.”
“Yes, I bet they had to thump each other to prove their heterosexuality to the other nobs after that” sneered Neal.
“OK, so he is a total sleaze-bag but come on Belle, you have to admit that Gaz is not your average “Top Hat” troll. The six pack, the cheek bones, tall, dark and handsome, he is your classic hunk.” Emma asked her flat mate who had started shaking her head vigorously.
“Not for me, Ems, he is just gargantuan, like Big Foot or an abominable snowman, and all those muscles just give me the creeps. I’ve dated a tall guy, Will was over six foot and I used to get neck ache just trying to look him in the eye, kissing was a logistical conundrum.”
“So, come on Belle then, if it isn’t hunks what type do you go for?” Neal enquired, flashing his eyes and puckering his lips. He quickly received a thump on the arm from his girlfriend.
“Well you have got really lovely eyes Neal, but sorry you are like a brother to me”, said Belle.
“I do love a well-dressed man, not too tall, any colour but the darker the better, mysterious, intelligent – obviously, well read - definitely, a good cook, mature. I’m so sick of the kids on my course, I know that I’m only a few years older than most of them, but they still think that talking about bodily functions is the height of wit.”
“OK, OK, I’ve got it,” enthused Emma, “you ditch the Troll bar, and get a job at a dwarf tavern next to a university frequented by lecturers and librarians.
“No” said Neal, “librarians are always dressed pretty dowdily.”
“Oh no they are not!” argued Belle, “I was a librarian, we are always smartly put together.”
“When were you a librarian?” quizzed Neal. “I thought you were studying management.”
“I am now. Libraries are always losing funding, I was made redundant, I could not find a new job for love nor money, Emyr – my boyfriend left me for his best mate – Arthur! So, I came to London for a new start and to retrain for a new career. I’m heartbroken though, not over Emyr we were never right for each other, he was always off on marches, joining every campaign there was, trying to save the world. I was quite happy to sign the petitions and write strongly worded letters, but I hated the confrontational side of protesting, I just wanted to stay at home and find my ideal word in a book. I loved being a librarian. I really would do anything to live all my life surrounded by books.”
“OK, so not a dwarf tavern, you could be a manager of a book shop with a really low door so only short-asses can get in” decided Emma.
“Or limbo-dancers” laughed Neal. “Would you really do anything to be a librarian again Belle?”
“Definitely. I would even sell my soul to a demon or a powerful wizard to make it happen.”
“Right, If I found you a job, would you ditch the heels and wear trainers?” tempted Neal.
“Then we wouldn’t have to crash in this dump and we wouldn’t have to get up at 5 to get to classes” dreamed Emma.
“My shoes, that is a higher price to pay than my soul Neal! And Emma if I had a job I wouldn’t need to work at the bar. But anyway, you are not going to find me a job because there are seriously none out there.”
“We will see!” said Neal with a wink to Emma. “I will win this deal and you need to go shopping for some trainers.”
—-
“What are you up to Cassisdy?” asked Emma. She was desperate to get to sleep knowing she had to get up early to trek back to her flat first thing. Neal, however, had other ideas and was busy clicking away on his laptop.
“Ha! Got you” Neal finally whispered triumphantly and pointed to a website on his screen.
“Storybrooke library seeks qualified and experienced librarian” read Emma. “Neal this is a press release from three years ago. That post will have been filled by now. Hey, Storybrooke? Isn’t that the dreadful one-horse town you escaped from?”
“Yes, well it is more like a village with an ego-problem. It pretends to be a town and only gets away with that status because it counts all the hamlets from round and about in its supposed population. Private money built the library and a leisure centre, it pretends to be more important than it is. Nobody visits and nobody leaves. Before I escaped my Dad was having a feud over this job with the mayor.”
“Another feud?”
“Yes, another feud, that is one of the reasons I had to leave,” he sighed. “A feud broke out every other day in that place, usually involving my dad.”
Neal had a very complicated relationship with his father that had always intrigued his girlfriend. Emma had grown up in the care system and would have loved any family to call her own. Whereas Neal refused to speak to either of his. When he had first left Storybrooke to study law, he had had a personal crisis, finally out of the clutches of his overprotective father, and buoyed by city life he had decided to seek out his estranged mother. This had led to a very strained relationship with his father and to top it all his mother and her new husband were as vile as his father had, annoyingly, described. So, he had dropped out of Uni, changed his name and hit the road to ‘find himself’. All he had found was that it was miserable, cold and uncomfortable not having any money or anywhere to stay. He had taken to breaking into cars to sleep and scraping a living working in seedy bars. Without a national insurance number, he had to take what work he could. That was when he had met Jeff who had bailed him out a thousand times with an interesting array of jobs, none too illegal.
His life had turned around recently when he had met Emma, in her car, and she had finally forgiven him and become his girlfriend. Jeff had settled down a bit by buying a bar trying to clean up his act, primarily because he had managed to regain custody of his daughter. So, in return for lugging the bottles and kegs around, washing-up, baby-sitting the delightful Grace and general dogs-bodying Neal got to stay in the flat above. Jeff had also magicked up jobs for Emma and her flat-mate. He had even saved enough money to enrol part-time on a drama course. It had helped that the course was run by Jeff’s girlfriend Ariel. Jeff maybe as mad as a hatter but he always seemed to magically solve every problem that came his way and now Neal was convinced he had discovered a way to magically solve Belle’s problem.
“I bet you anything this job is still there.” Neal explained. “Dad said she would try to bury it, which is why there is only a press release about it. Nobody looks at those pages and it is not on the job site. You must know where it is to find it. Regina was angling to get her sister the job you see. Dad managed to find a loophole in the town charter, that said you had to have a degree in library science and experience of working in a library to get the post. She will have hidden it and used the money for a different project out of spite. Dad was always pro-library, and anti-anything to do with the Mills family.”
“But,” said Emma, “even if Belle wants to go and live in the middle of nowhere and she does apply for and get the job aren’t you afraid she will tell him that she knows you and tell him where you live.”
“She will never find out, unless you tell her. We have different names and she is hardly going to get into a long conversation with him for anything to come up. He is an anti-social grump. The town pariah.”
Chapter Two
Two months later and Belle was on a train back to London having had her interview in Storybrooke. Emma had been texting her all the way up, sending their normal karaoke inspired banter to try and calm her nerves. She was obviously desperate to know the outcome as Belle found eight unread messages when she had finally taken her seat, most of them containing question marks and expletives.
Emma: This is Ground Control, come in Major Tom, report?????
Belle: This is Major Tom, returning to Planet Earth in tin can. I’ve put my trainers on.
Emma: Yayyyyyyyyyyy!!!!! What time will you dock? Welcoming committee getting ready to inspect footwear.
Belle: Ah, they were metaphorical trainers. Did not want to jinx myself. Rendezvous at Hat at 8 for reveal.
Emma: So pleased, but sad you are leaving. Were villagers friendly?
Belle: The place is weenie like a village in a fairy story, everything was so small.
Emma: Did you find a dwarf tavern then?
Belle: No, but the taxi driver was definitely Grumpy and the guy on reception Sneezy
Emma: What was the interview like?
Belle: Mayor was Evil Queen, patronising, bossy and scary, her assistant a crazy red-headed witch
Emma: R U sure this job isn’t a poisoned apple then?
Belle: The library is perfect, and the main users are two teachers who charmed me. Plus, I can live in the flat above, rent free which is good because local landlord is apparently a monster.
Emma: Belles are always good at taming Beasts. Will tell Neal good news, CU at 8
—
Belle had settled into her little flat in the quaint village of Storybrooke but had struggled to make friends. Everyone seemed to regard her with suspicion, silence met her every move. The library needed a lot of modernising before she could open it to the public and she was usually too exhausted to go out in the evening. The waitress at the café had been friendly but far to busy flirting with the male customers to chat with Belle, so she spent most of her time texting Emma.
Emma: Have you passed inspection yet?
Belle: Yes!!!Evil witch and mysterious Mr Gold arrived @ 2. Gold looks like a cross between Mick Jagger and an accountant. Tho’ he is Scottish so maybe Rod Stewart but not blonde.
Emma: Billy Connolly? Were they impressed with all the work you have put in?
Belle: Not Billy he is no comedian! He’s serious but strangely flamboyant when angry. He does remind me of someone though, it will come to me..
Emma: How are you making him angry? Isn’t he the Beast?
Belle: Not me, the witch. They seem to like to snark at each other. Hopefully their fireballs won’t burn my books. GTG it looks like the Beast is coming back.
Gold had seen the little beauty from a distance, but he had been trying to keep away from Regina’s latest project. However, now he had seen the librarian close-up he was drawn immediately back. She was stunning. She had chestnut curls and beautiful blue pools for eyes, stunning long legs over incredibly sexy heels, the like of which he had not seen in this god-forsaken town. (Well except for the ugly sisters but after dating their mum he really couldn’t think of them as anything other than spoilt little brats). Now, but now, he felt like he had been asleep for a hundred years and his princess had come to wake him and breathe new life into him. He also felt like a total idiot. One pretty face and he was acting like a smitten school boy. She was so young and oh so beautiful, he on the other hand was old and grumpy, with a limp and generally just a complete and utter bastard. Anyway, he was on a mission and he had to return to the library and if that meant he got to gaze on his princess then so be it.
“Good afternoon Mr. Gold. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. I’m sorry I didn’t catch your first name?”
“Just Gold will do”, he automatically replied, wanting to punch himself for being so rude.
“Oh, is that short for Justin?” Belle enquired.
“Don’t be smart with me Ms French you know what I mean, you can call be GOLD or MISTER Gold if you insist”
“I am sorry MISTER Gold, I wasn’t meaning to be rude. I was trying to be friendly I didn’t realise it was a state secret.”
“I don’t expect such impertinence from a public servant. Good day Miss French”.
Gold stormed off, well stormed off as much as you can with a dodgy ankle and a cane. Shit, he had got all flustered and totally screwed it up and he was so looking forward to getting his hands on that book.
Belle: I’ve totally screwed up. I asked the Beast too many questions and he got angry, roared at me and disappeared in a puff of smoke! Shit!!!
Emma: OMG did you ask him if he was single and if he was any good with his tongue?
Belle: NO!!! His first name. I only asked him for his first name and he looked so sad with big puppy eyes just like Bae’s and then he exploded.
Emma: He must have a real stinker of a name then. What do you reckon? Arsehole? Arsehole Gold?
Belle: Beastly because that’s what he is. But he does have Bae’s pretty eyes, weird.
Emma: What a coincidence. Hugs.
Belle: Yep virtual ones are the only ones you give.
Emma: We can’t all be touchy feely like you!
Belle: I still can’t believe I have made my first customer storm out! Aaaagh
It took Gold two weeks to enter the library again. He had been monitoring the comings and goings at the library from his shop, on the opposite side of the street and chose the busiest time he could in a hope of not having to deal with the librarian. He sneaked in when Mary Margaret had ushered in her class and creeped to the back. It didn’t take too long to find the precious book and slipping it under his jacket he made his way to the door. Belle was busy at the desk dealing with many little hands all waving their picture books and hoping to be next. He grabbed this opportunity and rushed towards the door when suddenly there was a loud clanging alarm and flashing lights. All eyes were on him.
Before he could move Belle was by his side. “Mr Gold you seem to have set off the alarm. Is there a book that you wish to borrow? I realise that I’m rather busy now, I could check it out for you later and drop it off at lunchtime if you would like?” He had little choice but to hand her the book and without saying a word he returned to his shop empty handed.
It took ten more minutes for Belle to sort out the children’s books and while the class got back into their coats Belle chatted with their teacher. She couldn’t help bringing up the incident with Gold.
“The look on his face was a picture! I’ve never seen him speechless before! He obviously didn’t know about the security tags. I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t given us that talk. What was the old miser trying to pinch anyway? He is so rich he could afford a hundred libraries you know. His son was lovely. I taught him, and he went off to University. Never comes back though. Obviously sick of the monster too.”
“No, I don’t think he was stealing, just in a rush and didn’t have time to queue I should think. When is your next class due?”
Belle was relieved when the children had gone, and calm returned. No more screaming kids with sticky, grabby paws and no more judgemental chatterboxes. Just her and her beloved books.
It was nearly lunchtime, so she decided she had better deal with Gold straight away. First snag, he wasn’t on the system. There was an entry for Baelfire Gold, but by the birth date it was obviously not him. Second snag, it was a reference book and it was not allowed to leave the library. She was going to have to ring him and tell him the bad news. Third snag, no entry on the system, no phone number. She was going to have to face the Beast in his lair.
Gold was hiding in the back room of his shop, head in hands. He now remembered Regina had talked to him about the modernisation of the library and some state of the art security system, guess he hadn’t been paying too much attention, transfixed as he had been by Belle’s brightness. Now he had been humiliated in front of many of his tenants, well their children and the ultimate town gossip Mary Margaret. That librarian had him bewitched, but she had been kind and had covered up for him, and her smile had made his heart skip a beat, or maybe that was the shock of the alarm. All he was sure of was that the beauty had him under her spell and he was cursed to make a fool of himself in front of her every time they met.
Of course, the doorbell was jingling now, he knew it was going to be her, so he pulled himself up and braced himself.
“Ah Ms French, I do hope you have my book.”
“Unfortunately not, Mr Gold, the book you seek is a reference book and I am not at liberty to allow it out of the library. But you are welcome to attend the library anytime and peruse it at your leisure.” Belle replied, trying desperately not to shake. At that very moment she saw his books. Antique books, immediately drawn to them before Mr Gold could reply she had one in her hand.
“Jane Eyre” she said with wonder. “Is this a first edition Mr Gold?”
“Unfortunately not, Ms French, it is a third edition, but quite rare, if you turn to page 279 you will find that the 9 is actually missing and..”
“Oliver Twist!” said the awestruck librarian, grabbing another prize, her mouth was open wide, eyes flashing, body shaking with excitement.
“Now that is a first edition and a first issue. As you can see it has a Boz title page and the ‘Fireside’ plate. This was rushed out in book form before serialization was complete, and the last few plates were hurried in. Dickens disliked the final ‘Fireside’ plate and asked for a new design, the ‘Church’ plate. He also decided that he no longer wished to be styled “Boz”. The first issue, that you are holding, was published on 9 November; the second, with cancel titles, omitting the sub-title and giving Dickens’s name as the author, and with the ‘Church’ plate at the end, was issued on 16 November 1838.”
Belle was struck dumb during his little speech, she had realised that he was the most handsome man she had ever met, beautifully dressed, intelligent, knowledgeable about her favourite subject and if it wasn’t for his eyes she was quite convinced she would have to kiss him.
Gold smirked. “However, I am not a liberty to allow them out of my shop without you paying the asking price, which you can clearly see on the protective sleeve.”
“Touché, Mr Gold, touché”, Belle sighed.
“But you are, of course, welcome to visit and peruse my collection at your leisure”, Gold added.
They both couldn’t help laughing at that.
Chapter Three
That was the beginning of Belle and Gold’s lunchtime chats. Gold would put the kettle on, Belle would bring a treat from the café or some experimental bakes from her limited repertoire. Gold was always polite and ate them and smiled, his offerings were of a much higher standard, (YES HE COULD COOK TOO). Finally, she had found someone to chat to in Storybrooke and the need for company was obviously mutual, she realised that Gold was very lonely. There were hardly any visitors to his shop because he sold most of his antiques on line. The local residents only came in when they needed favours, usually asking for more time to pay the rent and they were never pleasant conversations.
Lunchtime was Gold’s favourite part of the day for that was when Belle arrived like a ray of sunshine. He was so deeply in love with her, she was beautiful, intelligent and so enthusiastic to hear all the tales behind his collection of books and antiquities. Her visits were a delicious torture but he was addicted to her and although he was convinced he was not worthy of her company, he couldn’t and wouldn’t give her up.
Despite them meeting up for over two weeks Gold had not yet visited the library. Belle wondered if it was his leg that stopped him from popping by, but she wasn’t quite sure how to bring it up without causing a scene and they had been getting on so sweetly that she did not want to rock the boat. She was totally besotted with him now, even his eyes drew her in, Neal totally forgotten. She was unsure how to proceed on that front either, he was such a gentleman, so dignified, so refined, so out of her league.
“How about tomorrow, you could come over to the library, Dylan?” Belle finally asked bravely, cheekily adding: “You can look at that book you tried to steal”
“No it is not Dylan, and I didn’t try to steal it, I..” Gold broke off turning abruptly and moving behind a curtain. Belle slightly alarmed that she had teased too much too quickly followed to find her companion in tears. She was stunned and on instinct drew him into a big hug stroking his back and whispering words of comfort to him. Gold broke down, the hug making him cry even harder. Pathetic, he felt like a pathetic wretch, but this angel made him feel safe and loved, finally he manged to get a grip of himself and he motioned to use his handkerchief.
“Belle, I am so so sorry, what must you think of me? The book, it is the Yearbook for Storybrooke High and it, well, it has a picture of my son in. I haven’t seen him for three years and I have been so keen to get hold of this picture, it was the last one before he left, and I just needed to see it, the library has been closed and I’m afraid it has become an obsession. It is pathetic I know, but, but I miss him so much and I tend to grab on to any tiny contact with him I can get.” He proceeded to tell her how he and his son had become estranged, the bitter words, the mistakes on either side.
“Oh, my precious friend,” Belle replied, she was so moved by his story that she just couldn’t help herself from taking his hands and placing a light kiss on his lips. Gold’s tears soon became tears of joy.
From that moment everything had changed. Lunches with Gold were now interspersed with cuddles and kisses as they finally understood that their love for each other was a shared feeling. Tonight, though, tonight was a biggy. Gold had invited her for dinner and by the look in his eyes and the passion in their kisses she knew they were both ready for something more serious. She decided she would bring him a gift so she found the correct Yearbook and got ready to scan the pictures into her laptop. It was then she saw it, Gold’s son, Baelfire was her friend Neal!
Belle: Hi Neal, or should I say Baelfire!
Neal: Don’t understand
Belle: Come on Neal, surely you knew I would find out. It all makes sense now, how you knew about this job, this obscure place.
Neal: Shit. I didn’t think you would ever to talk to my Dad. He doesn’t talk to anyone.
Belle: I saw your picture in the Yearbook and yes we talk, a lot.
Neal: You haven’t told him you know me, have you? I really don’t want to see him.
Belle: Not yet, but you should, he is sorry, and he misses you so much.
Neal: Please no Belle. I’m happy here I don’t want to run again.
Belle: You don’t need to run
Neal: You don’t know what he is like he is just so suffocating.
Belle: I do know what he is like I’m his girlfriend
Neal: WTF!!! He is my Dad!
Belle: Well I did not know that did I !!!
Neal: Suppose not. Please please please don’t tell him, not yet. Hopefully you will split up. He is such an arsehole it won’t be long.
Belle: He is not an ass, he has a nice ass.
Neal: Ew, gross. You haven’t slept with him have you?
Belle: None of your business, but I’m hardly gonna become your step-Mum anytime soon
Neal: OMG. This is a nightmare.
Later that night Belle lay entwined with her new lover, smiling, content, satisfied.
“Don’t you think it is about time you told me your first name, now that we have been intimate?”
“Hmm, nice try French, I may have shown you every bit of me but I’m still not willing to share that detail”, Gold grinned and pressed a kiss to her brow, nose, lips, and chin.”
“How bad can it be? I feel as If I’ve gone through hundreds of silly names already”.
“OK, I will give you three more guesses and then you will have had your lot”.
“Who do you think you are? Rumplestiltskin? That’s it isn’t it. Well I’m sticking with that now. My darling little Rumple, you better get used to it or tell me your real one” demanded Belle.
“You will never guess I will bet you anything and I’m fine with Rumple but I think you need distracting” laughed Gold. He kissed her deeply. He slowly moved down her body until he had reached the promised land, he hooked her legs over his shoulders and grinned at her little appreciative noises. Swirling his tongue around her folds and clitoris he didn’t stop until she screamed, shuddered and slumped down in ecstasy.
He woke up hours later with Belle’s luscious lips wrapped around his penis, she was returning the favour and he was in heaven. When he had recovered they cuddled some more, neither was prepared to move, even though it was time to start the day.
“Would you like some breakfast my beauty? Gold asked. “Or have you filled yourself up already?”
“Yes, I’m starving after that work out. But I’m surprised you can talk this morning, I thought your tongue might be in a sling.
“I loved pleasing you, the little moans you made, the screams and your delicious taste
“Well it was amazing, I’ve never had such a treat, how did you manage to keep going?”
“A book Miss French of course. I read that the best technique was to draw the alphabet with your tongue and when I finished that I started spelling out Lord Byron’s ‘She Walks in Beauty’”, confided Gold.
“God, I love literature” sighed Belle.
Neal: You promise you haven’t told him.
Belle: No but for my silence I need a favour
Neal: What? Anything.
Belle: What is his first name? And why is it such a secret?
Neal: Oh, now that would be telling. You out to blackmail the pair of us?
Belle: Maybe
Neal: It is Randy, after Randy Newman, his Dad’s favourite singer.
Belle: Ah I see. Suitable in America but for a kid in Scotland an excuse for bullying.
Neal: Yep, I don’t think he ever got over it. Wouldn’t tell anyone, didn’t trust anyone, it kind of closed him off especially after Mum dumped him.
Belle: See you still care for him.
Neal: Maybe a little bit.
Belle: How’s Emma? Not heard from her. U 2 OK?
Neal. U2 are pants and you know it. No, we are great but we got broken into and Emma got her phone nicked. She moved in with me and now this happens!
Belle: That is awful, what are you going to do?
Neal: Well Jeff has come to the rescue. This huge bald guy turns up, like 7 foot, with loads of little guys, and they buzz around the place, fit locks, CCTV, central heating, new shower.
Belle: Wow! This huge guy wouldn’t be called Dove would he?
Neal: Yes I think he was. You know him? I guess he is one of Jeff’s old bouncer mates.
Belle: Yep maybe.
Lunchtime couldn’t come quick enough for Belle, she had Gold’s name and after what Neal had revealed, many other questions to ask, like how many 7 foot Dove’s in the world could there possibly be?. It was Gold’s turn to bring the treat and he had come up trumps with strawberries, melted chocolate and cream.
“So, If I do guess your real name Rumple, what is my prize?”
“Oh I will owe you a favour, ask and it will be yours, but you only have two more guesses.” He smiled and popped another strawberry into his mouth.
“Ok, Rudolph” said Belle.
“No, my nose isn’t the slightest bit red! Last try”
“Randy?” asked Belle all innocently.
Gold was silent, “Shit, yes that is it, wow. I never thought you would get that. I hate it. Ruined my childhood. I was bullied and bullied. Randy Beggar they used to call me, the jokes never stopped. Even the teachers joined in. Please stick with Rumple Belle. It just makes me shake whenever I hear that name.”
Belle got down on her knees before him taking his hands: “Of course Rum, I will. I will never say it again, I wouldn’t want to upset you, ever. But you are still going to owe me a favour.”
“Thank you,” he replied, “anything, ask anything of me”.
“Karaoke”, said Belle, “I want you to sing a duet with me.”
“What you have got to be joking! You want me to what go down to The White Rabbit, that hole, and sing in front of my tenants, no, Mr Gold does not sing. I would rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty fork!”
“Oh, come now, Rumple, you promised me and it doesn’t have to be The White Rabbit, karaoke bars exist now, you can even hire out little booths with just a few friends.”
“I know dearie, I own one!”
“I knew it you own the Top Hat don’t you? That is why your man Dove was there, that is why Jefferson is so generous to us, you are spying on your son!” replied Belle angrily.
“My son! What do you know about my son Belle? What do you know.”
“Oh Rum,” sighed Belle “just that you love him and will always look out for him whatever happens, and that my best friend loves him too and that he is one lucky guy.”
—
Epilogue
It was the best Storybrooke Christmas ever. Emma, Neal, baby Henry, Rum and Belle were all wrapped up in their silly Christmas onesies passing presents to each other. The newly married Gold’s had tastefully decorated their Victorian house and purchased the biggest tree on offer. They were drinking Bucks Fizz and the mood was merry and bright.
“Ok Belle, this box is for you” said Emma, but it is too heavy to lift so you are going to have to come here. Belle pushed up off the sofa with a little help from Rum, her tummy rounded and heavy with child. She carefully unwrapped the present.
“A karaoke machine!” she cried.
“Yes, I promised to sing a duet with a beautiful librarian some time ago and I never break a deal, Nealfire set it up”
“Sure Rumplestiltskin, you hold the baby and I will get right on it”, laughed Neal.
The machine was a great hit. The boys couldn’t get the girls off it as they relived their time together at the Top Hat blasting through the favourites. It was after dinner when the happy family gathered to hear the long-awaited debut of Mr and Mrs Gold at the mike.
“What are we going to sing Rum? Belle asked.”
“Well, my dearest son was kind enough to help me purchase this machine and he has been helping me practice singing your, apparently favourite song, so hear we go. ‘Everything Has Changed’ by TayTay and Mr Edward Sheeran. Merry Christmas my love.”
The family cheered, and Belle sang, followed by Rum and then the rest of the Golds joined in.
[Belle]
All I knew this morning when I woke
Is I know something now, know something now I didn’t before.
And all I’ve seen since eighteen hours ago
Is green eyes and freckles and your smile
In the back of my mind making me feel like
[Belle]
I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now
I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now
[Belle and Rum]
I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now
I just wanna know you, know you, know you
[Belle and Rum]
‘Cause all I know is we said, “Hello.”
And your eyes look like coming home
All I know is a simple name
Everything has changed
All I know is you held the door
You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours
All I know since yesterday is everything has changed
[Rum]
And all my walls stood tall painted blue
And I’ll take them down, take them down and open up the door for you
[Belle]
And all I feel in my stomach is butterflies
The beautiful kind, making up for lost time,
Taking flight, making me feel right
[Belle and Rum]
I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now
I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now
I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now
I just wanna know you, know you, know you
[All]
'Cause all I know is we said, “Hello.”
And your eyes look like coming home
All I know is a simple name
Everything has changed
All I know is you held the door
And you’ll be mine and I’ll be yours
All I know since yesterday is everything has changed
Come back and tell me why
I’m feeling like I’ve missed you all this time, oh, oh, oh.
And meet me there tonight
And let me know that it’s not all in my mind.
[All]
I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now
I just wanna know you, know you, know you
Merry Christmas to all Rumbellers and especially to ittybittybitchywitch
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Craving You Chapter 8 part 1
A/n: HI ya’ll i’m having issues with tumblr tonight but i’m loading this anyways, if anyone knows how to make the text messages be smaller please let me know. Without further ado here is chapter 8 its part 1 of 2, tell me what you think. You are all amazing and I thank you so very much, more than you know. If you have any questions let me know as well, hit that ask button. For this story Jensen is Single and Danneel is happy elsewhere, please no hate on Danneel or JJ, I love them both and hope to meet them one day. My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my doing so. Gifs and images i use are not mine they belong to respected owners. Also a big thank you to Portia at @writersaredreamers for beta’ing this chapter, and for @secretlyfurrydragon for encouraging me to continue and all you wonderful followers, readers, and writers who inspire me. thank you.
Warnings; Language, fluffy stuff, and Jensen being adorable.
I woke up to my text messaging notification tone going off, which scared the hell out of me. It was set to the minions saying ‘Let me out I’m stuck in your pocket,’ which Cassie must have been playing with my phone again. I quickly grabbed it since it was so loud only to smile at the name that was on my screen. I was laying on my stomach, but quickly turned onto my back. I unlocked my phone with a smile to read the messages.
I immediately got out of bed and went to the bathroom for a quick shower, after that I brushed my teeth and got dressed. I hadn’t heard the doorbell yet or gotten a text message, so I figured he was still driving. Depending on where he’s coming from, traffic can be a bitch. I opted to wear a pair of blue jean shorts with a gray/black short sleeved shirt, which was one of my favorites to wear lately. It’s more like a baseball type shirt, that I used to wear when I play softball back in junior high and high school,during practices so I have a few of them. Getting my purse ready, I heard a familiar voice beckoning me.
“[Y/N}! She came running into my room and stopped half way in after she saw me standing there frozen like I was in trouble or something. “You’re handsome prince awaits you,” she comes over to me swooning which kind of scared me.
I feel my cheeks turn red as the crimson and butterflies in my stomach swim around. “Do I look ok?”
She looks at me, “Babe, you’re beautiful. Go have some fun, enjoy but be back by 3 because you and I have some fun stuff lined up.”
I hugged her, “I promise, I’ll ditch him if he won’t bring me home in time.”
“Oh no you won’t, he’s a keeper {Y/N}. You’ll just have to hog tie him down, throw him in the backseat, steal his keys and drive his truck which is out of this world by the way to get here by 3.” She was pushing me out of my bedroom.
“Ok, ok I get it. I’m going.” She walked with me to the front door where I saw Jensen standing there talking to Jeff. He was handsome, he was wearing a forest green Henley short sleeved, and a pair of stonewashed blue jeans that hugged those curves and features, which really accentuated his bow legs that I find totally adorable.
He approached me and took my hand, “Hi, ready to go?”
I smiled at him, “Yup, but I have to be back by 3 otherwise Jo said I can hog tie you down in the back seat and take your keys away.” I turned to look at Jo, I knew I had embarrassed her. So I knew what was coming next.
“SMALLS! You’re killing me!” Her voice was already fading in the background as we headed out of the house to his truck. She was not kidding, that thing was a beast, but damn it was gorgeous. “WOW, that’s a beautiful truck, this is yours?”
He opened the passenger side for me, I was completely blown away on the inside as well. “Yes, this is all mine. Worked really hard to get her too.” He helped me up on the step sides, thank goodness for those because I don’t think I would have been able to climb into that thing.
He shut the door, then walked around the front to get into the driver’s side just as I was fastening my seatbelt. That shirt he had on, really brought out his muscular arms and chest when he jumped into his side. I had to turn my head for a moment to catch my breath, ‘Holy fucking hell, he’s hot.’ Yup, there went my heart yet again.
He turned to me as he placed his right hand on the backseat, he had his dark sunglasses on, I so wanted to die. “Ready to get the best damn coffee in the world you ever had?”
I just nodded my head almost with a squeak of a yes which made me blush ten times more. ‘Geez {Y/N}, get it together.’
I caught a brief glance of a smile when he looked out the window to back out of the drive way, ‘God, I don’t know if you can hear me right now, but thank you for creating him.’
“So, what kind of music do you like to listen to?” He spoke suddenly that made me jump a bit.
“I um, it varies really. Growing up I listened to classic rock mixed with some country, George Strait is my all-time favorite artist. But here lately, the new singers of country music has been slowly invading my playlist.”
He reached forward and touched a button on the screen that lit up with sounds and lights, I was completely blown away by that. This truck had everything one can ask for, ‘what did he say he did for a living?’
“There’s a rule here in Texas, that if you have a pretty girl sitting beside you, windows rolled down, cool breeze in the air, country music better be playing in those speakers.” He winked at me as he changed it to a familiar song that I love right now. “Craving you,” by Thomas Rhett, I just love his voice.
He was about to change it, and I slapped his hand away. “I love that song, it’s a good song.”
He chuckled, “Ok, you win.” He smiled as he backed out of the drive. “So, Smalls what’s that all about?”
I smiled remembering how I got that nickname, I turn to face him, “Do you remember that movie called ‘The Sandlot?’ the one about Scotty Smalls who was kind of nerdy, and tried to play baseball and was scared of it at first? If I remember correctly, even gotten a black eye when his stepdad was playing catch with him? Yup, that was me. The same thing happened to me when Jo and I wanted to try something new, because all the other kids were playing it.”
“I love that movie, it’s a classic.” He turned to look at me.
The cool breeze came thru the window at just the right time and it blew a strand of hair in my face. Jensen, the sweetheart of a man took his right hand and removed it from my eyes, while we were stopped at a red light.
“But I can’t believe you were nerdy like that, tell me more how did you and Jo meet?” The light turned green, so he could turn down a very familiar rode. I started to get goosebumps as I saw the old high school in view, too many memories ago.
“Well, back in middle school after my parents and I moved here from Houston when I was about 10, I didn’t have any friends or anyone to talk to or hang out with. Jo was a couple of houses down from me, and she came to my rescue after this girl pushed me down at the bus stop. I landed in a mud puddle of course, but Jo saw everything and punched that girl in the face. She helped me up, gave me her jacket till we got to school at least so I can call my mom to have her bring some different clothes. Well, we became friends after that, she was kind of like my bodyguard or something. Always there ready to pounce on someone if they even tried anything with me, I didn’t’ know how to react to that, so it was scary at the time, but it’s all good.” We both laughed a bit.
I had turned my back to face the window to look at him better, he had a console in between us that our arms rested on. Our arms touched and electricity went thru me. I cleared my throat but not chancing moving my arm from him, “Jo thought it would be cool to join the neighborhood softball team, I guess you can say our lives was like the movie. She was the Benny in the relationship, always protecting me from anyone who dared to get to close, but challenging me to do something new I wouldn’t ever do before. When that movie came out, we realized how much our lives were exactly like it so she ended up calling me Smalls.” I jumped telling him to slow down a bit. “Ooohh, right there under that tree.” I pointed and he nodded agreeing with what he saw. “I was in a fight, my first ever because Jo wasn’t around. She had to go be with her grandma in Kansas. After coffee if you like, I can show you some old haunts.”
He turned into the coffee shop, “I’d like that,” He found a parking spot and was about to turn off the truck, I gave him a look because the song that was currently playing, “My Girl,” by Brett Young wasn’t over yet it. It had a few more seconds.
“There’s also a rule that if you’re in the middle of a song you love, don’t turn it off.” I gave him a wink as he held his hands up as if he was surrendering. I giggled at the sight. “Alright, you can now.”
He chuckled. When he turned his head as he killed the ignition, I can only imagined that he was smiling. I unbuckled my seatbelt not noticing Jensen was already at my side of the truck opening the door for me. He took my hand and helped me down and with a small jump I landed in his arms. Chest to chest.
I looked up at him and just when I did, his lips met mine. He held me in his arms far longer than I expected, because I felt myself leaning backwards to the truck’s seat. My right arm went under his arm and up his back, as my left found the back of him. As one of his rested on my shoulder and the other around my waist. I sucked on his bottom lip for a moment as it was one of my favorite things to do when I kiss a guy, just something about those lips attracted me to him. I wanted to taste him, and him to taste me, it was amazing. I felt his left hand up the back of my head while his fingers threaded in with my hair, which made me want to go weak in the knees. I moaned as my head went back breaking the kiss.
“Good morning, beautiful.” He said softly as his lips were still dangerously close.
I looked at him, still in awe of this man. “Good morning to you too, but I believe we already said that.” I took my right hand and ran it thru his hair.
He leaned in to my neck with a soft kiss, I dunno what it is but guys always know where to go to get my motor going.
He broke away after that, and took my hand, “It was thru text, not by mouth.” He winked at me as he held my hand. “I believe I owe you a coffee Smalls.”
I faced palmed, “you’re not going to let that go are you?” I look up at him as we walked to the shop.
He opened the door for me, “Nope, not when it’s the cutest thing I ever heard.” He kissed my forehead before I walked ahead of him.
He was not kidding, the smell of this place cinnamon, vanilla, and ginger, filled the air. My nose followed the smell to the counter where a beautiful young woman with long black hair and small frame stood.
“Gen, this is {Y/N}. {Y/N}, this is Genevieve Padalecki, she’s the wife of my best friend or brother I should say. She owns the coffee shop, and if you ask me.” He paused, “She makes the best tasting coffee ever.” He placed his hand on his heart to show his gratitude.
“Jensen, you’re full of it. “She held out her hand to me and I took it. “Nice to meet you {Y/N}, but can I ask you why you’re with this guy?” You could tell she loved Jensen and that they always joke with each other.
I was about to answer, when Jensen decided to for me. “Hey, I heard that you know. And Frankly, I’m hurt by that.” He faked a pout.
She just rolled her eyes, “Gotta watch out for him, what can I get you, you name it we probably have it.”
We got our orders and left her to do some work, Jensen led me over to a small area kind of tucked away from view. We sat down in some of the most comfortable leather chairs ever. They were wide enough that I was able to bring my feet under me to be able to unwind a bit. Jensen took a sip of his coffee, and I followed suit. “Oh my god, you were not kidding.” I blurted out after my first taste of my frappe.
“You think that’s good, you should try regular coffee, or even her cappuccino. She’s amazing, I tried to get her to move in with me before Jared did, but he won.” He nodded with a smile towards her like she heard what he was saying.
Just as he did that I noticed his dimples, I love to see him to do that. He’s just so adorable, freckles dusted over his nose as if they were sprinkled there by a fairy godmother herself. His eyes shown more with the color of his shirt, and the little crow feet on each side of his eyes just made my heart flutter for him. I’m not sure what we have yet, or if this is anything at all. But I tell you what, I wouldn’t mind finding out.
** Let me know if you want me to tag you**
@writersaredreamers @secretlyfurrydragon @secretimpala67 @nanie5 @laqueus-ludovicus @impalaimagining @theshygirlao3
#Jensen Ackles#jensen ackles x reader#reader insert#genevieve padalecki#Jared Padalecki#coffee shop#nicknames#smalls
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Jeff Atkins Imagine #1
Yay im adding 13rw to my list of imagine… things anyways
I hope this is good because I legit love jeff but tony is my fav... and HE DESERVED BETTER and this takes place before Hannah and Jeff.... *cries*
~~
Most of the time, you were the one in the relationship to get extremely mad. Sometimes your boyfriend Jeff was too nice for you, too calm for everything and that made you angry sometimes. Especially when you wanted him to yell and let his true feelings out. You could see veins throbbing in his muscular body when you two fought and it made you worried that one day he would explode. You wanted Jeff to get mad at you because it worried you if he didn’t.
And one day you had enough. You two (more like just you) had been fighting over the fact that Jeff seemed to be spending more time with Clay and his other friends more than he had been with you, and all Jeff could do was sigh and tell you he was sorry.
“Y/N, baby I’m sorry. Clay’s been hanging out with Hannah and I know he likes her and I just want him to be happy. He hasn’t liked someone this much since kinder.” Jeff said as he watched you pace in the library, where Clay had just left from after helping him with his paper.
There he was, giving valid excuses. Excuses that you actually thought were cute and didn’t want to stop, but you were so angry that he just didn’t tell you off. You would have liked it better. You hated that you were the bad guy in the relationship.
“Come on, baby.” Jeff said, getting up from his seat and wrapping his arms around you from behind. He rested his chin on your shoulder as you stared ahead. “I’m sorry. I’ll take you to the movies tonight if you want? I’ll skip one practice just for you. The new Ouija movie came out yesterday and I know you want to see it.”
You felt the heat bubble under your skin as you thought of his kindness, and when you didn’t answer Jeff placed a kiss on your temple. “You know I would spend more time with you if I could, Y/N. Please...”
“Jeff, stop!” You said sharply, pulling away. He looked at you while his jaw tightened. You could tell he was angry that you were still angry. You knew he hated that he was being honest and you were still being a bitch, and you hated yourself for walking away too.
You ran out of the library, running at the back of Clay’s retreating backside, calling out his name. “Clay, wait up!”
Clay turned around with his eyebrows furrowed, his mouth open slightly. “Hey, Y/N... weren’t you just fighting with Jeff?”
“Jensen when you witness someone get into a fight you don’t ask questions three seconds later.” You sighed, before laughing at his expression.
“Right.” He said, nodding and then continuing to walk. You walked with him, only glancing back slightly to see that Jeff was standing at the door of the library with his arms crossed.
You turned away quickly. “You want to go to Rosie’s with me? My treat.” You asked Clay, fixing your shirt.
“Uh, well,” Clay looked back as well but you stayed looking ahead. “I have work at seven so...”
“It doesn’t take that long to eat a meal, Jensen. Come on.” You hooked your elbow with his and put on a fake smile, beginning to tease him about Hannah, who just so happened to be one of your new friends.
~
It had been a few days since your fight with Jeff, and since then you had been ignoring him to your greatest extent. You wanted him to confront you, to tell you you were being a bitch, which three people had told you so far. You wanted Jeff to act normal. But yet despite the severe case of bitchiness you were showing him, Jeff still went out of his way to send you goodnight, goodmorning, and just in general cute texts. He kept apologizing, but that’s not what you wanted. You wanted him to be a human and get angry and yell, sometimes his perfect collect and physique got you. Sometimes it made you feel insecure because you weren’t like Jeff and you felt like you didn’t deserve him. Jeff deserved better.
But on this particular day, after three consecutive days that you had been ignoring Jeff, you guessed it got too much for him. It was after a baseball game, and the minute that the game had ended and Jeff had won the game for the team you shot out of your seat like the rest of the crowd, yelling loudly.
You threw your half eaten hot dog to the ground and ran off of the bleachers as the baseball team was walking to the locker rooms. Bryce Walker, a friend of Jeff’s, was walking right in front of your smiling boyfriend, both of them covered in red dirt and giving high fives away like candy.
“Bryce!” You yelled out, catching the attention of both men. This was your last try at getting Jeff mad. At giving him a chance to explode on you. At being a little less perfect.
“Y/N?” Bryce said with a little confusion and a lot of excitement. He held out his arms hesitantly and you shrugged before giving him a giant hug, laughing loudly.
“Good game, Bryce! You did good out there.” Your eyes went wide when his hands lingered too low on your waist, instantly pushing him a little with laughter. “Any plans for celebration? I’ve got weed.”
Bryce raised his eyebrows and grinned, twisting his bat in his hands. “Wow, didn’t know you smoked, Y/N! Well me and the guys are getting together for a little fun stuff. The hot tub will definitely be put to good use. Any chance you wanna share the stuff?”
You could see Jeff out of the corner of your eye, his neck and temple throbbing with veins. He was getting angry. You still ignored him.
“Hell yeah, I’ve got a new two piece I have to show off.” You winked cheekily and Bryce coughed loudly.
“Of course your boyfriend would be coming too.” He said while glancing at Jeff.
“So?”
It all happened in a flash, one second you were walking next to Bryce and the next there was the clatter of a bat and you were swept off of your feet and thrown over someone’s back. It was Jeff and he was completely ditching his route to the locker rooms and was carrying you the direction of the parking lot, which was slowly clearing out.
“We still on?” Bryce called out.
You nodded while struggling in Jeff’s tight grip. Jesus, you had a good view of his ass and muscular arms. “Fuck,” You cursed. “Jeff, ease up a bit on the grip, I bruise easily.”
Jeff said nothing but obliged to your request, his breathing hard and fast. Honestly, you were scared a little bit. You knew this is what you had wanted, but you didn’t exactly know what was in store for you. Was he going to break up with you? Murder you and throw your body in a ditch. Angry Jeff was unpredictable because he hardly ever existed.
When you two arrived at his car he set you down a little roughly, throwing his baseball cap off of his head and running his fingers through his hair. “What did I do?” He asked softly despite his rough demeanor.
You thought you had heard wrong. “What?”
“WHAT DID I DO?” Jeff yelled loudly, his face going red. “WHAT DID I DO TO MAKE YOU SO COLD TOWARDS ME! I LOVE YOU, BUT Lately you’ve been acting like such a- such a- BITCH!”
Part of you was relieved that he had called you that, but not when the guilt suddenly ate his features. “NO- no, Jeff! It wasn’t you oh MY GOD! It was me, Jeff, I was a bitch, I am a bitch don’t apologize.”
“No, you’re not oh my God, I’m so-”
“JEFF! Please don’t apologize! Do something! Call me names, yell at me, look at this point I don’t care! Punch me, let out your anger, Jeff! God, I hate seeing you like this, angry but you don’t do anything.”
Jeff was confused, his chest heaving. “Baby, you know i hate being angry. It makes me feel like a bad person.”
You let out a huge breath of air as you turned around in a circle, tugging at the roots of your hair. “Jeff,God, Jeff does that mean I’m a bad person? Jeff, you’re human it’s okay to be mad and it’s okay to yell every once in a while. Do you know how it makes me feel when you can do everything with so much kindness and positivity? It makes me feel insecure because I’m not as pure as you and I’m a big bitch. God, I love you, Jeff, but please just get angry at me. It is my fault.”
Jeff stood there for a second, staring at you and processing your words. His eyes gazed over your face and you shifted uncomfortably after a second. Then, without warning he surged forward and kissed you sweetly and despite his sweaty hands and body he tasted like mint.
When he pulled back he smiled and shook his head. “You ignored me for three whole days because you were angry that I never get angry? That’s kind of ridiculous, babe. Listen, I do these things, I put up with you even when you’re irrational because I know you feel bad when you do it. I know that it doesn’t matter how long it takes you always apologize. Let me guess this way your last attempt?”
You grumbled slightly because Jeff was grinning down at you now, his hands on your shoulders as his fingers squeezed you lightly. “Yes.”
“Baby, in so many ways it makes you better than me, because I bottle those emotions up. One day I told my mom off because I was angry at Zach and I didn’t do anything about it. He doesn’t know that breaking my lucky bat was wrong because he thought I was okay with it, because I didn’t get angry. Please, Y/N, don’t feel insecure with me. We’re both a little rusty on our humanity skills baby.”
You nodded and Jeff did so too, placing his forehead across yours as he smiled before enveloping your lips in his, his teeth grazing your bottom lip teasingly. “I love you, Jeff.”
“I love you too, Y/N.”
“More than anything in the world.” You both said together before kissing once more.
“Now let me tell you how hot you look when you’re yelling, Jeff.”
(PLS FEEDBACK IF I SHOULD DO MORE)(not edited)
#jeff atkins#jeff atkins imagine#13 reasons why#13rw imagines#13rw#hannah baker#clay jensen#zach dempsey#jeff atkins deserved better#x reader#female reader x jeff atkins#jeff atkins gif
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So I've been mentally writing this sterek fic (I am literally always mentally writing a fic, it's the actual writing part that I struggle with) and it's SUPER frustrating because I'm realizing that I totally do not know the sequence of plot events in TW at ALL after the whole nogitsune shenanigan.
Like okay so it starts with The Summer Fling, which is canon fight me. And Derek angsting about Stiles age and Stiles low-key panicking about Scott finding out and the usual stuff there. And then comes the Unofficial Breakup that has to be Unofficial because they were never Official but after the vault and Erica and Boyd, it's all a little too Real for Stiles and he's like whoa pump the brakes.
So that's chill, and then the no-tell motel, Derek is Dead drama whereafter Stiles goes to the loft to like, mourn or whatever. Turns out Derek's not dead, that's great! Not great? The pair of delicate feet and slim ankles appearing at the top of the Sexy Spiral Staircase over Derek's shoulder. Obvs Stiles just like bolts at this point because Derek isn't his boyfriend, he has no right to be there, Derek's not dead and moved on it's all SO wonderful.
In all the running away, Stiles misses that A. The ankles belong to his English teacher and B. Derek's been magically seduced! Tragic. Rapey. All very much part of Derek's general milieu. Where's Cora? Honestly who cares like I hate to say that about a female character but she's so obviously a stand in for Erica that they murdered for no reason that I just Cannot with the interchangeable women. Miss me. She's running around the woods grieving Boyd. Maybe burying him.
Anyway. There's drama! Alphas! Ice bathes! Root cellars! The canon nonsense. Derek gives up the alpha powers still because that matters later for my plot so i guess Cora is around somewhere. Being vaguely poisoned.
Except that after it's all over Derek turns up in Stiles room to uuuuuh dance around an apology/explanation for the whole Ms. Blake misunderstanding and of course Stiles tells him that it's not his fault and there's uuuuuh... comforting. Where's the sheriff? Fuckin sleeping, dude had a rough night.
And then of course Stiles ruins the afterglow. Because he and Allison and Scott, they did something. And you don't get to fuck around with death magic without consequences. And for Stiles, lovely hella extra Stiles, who cares too much about everything it's that now he doesn't care at all. Not personally. He knows he should, he used to, that he can fake it for his dad and for Scott but he doesn't want to Have To fake it for Derek so he tells the truth.
Which naturally for Derek is a Big No. He's not gonna be with somebody who isn't with him, not really. It all touches on some weird consent and trauma issues and it's just bad news all around and everyone (really just Derek, cuz stiles isn't big on emotions RN) is real sad. Super sad. Pack up with my magically healed sister and ditch town sad.
And then of course comes stiles spiraling deterioration, because he wants to get mad about the whole thing but he can't and that just makes him want to get madder and things aren't going well and then nightmares hallucinations nemeton etc etc Possession. Cool. Literally do not talk to me about the creepy asylum sex or the coyote girl. Stiles' possessed, sleep deprived and drugged up to his eyeballs. It's problematic at best and I'm not about it. Too bad, not sad, don't care. Didn't happen.
Anyway. That's a whole rigamorole. Derek pops back into town, there are some tragedies, again canon nonsense not too caught up in the details here kids. And then! Since you can't be a wolf and a fox at the same time, the nogitsune is defeated and it turns out that when it puked stiles new body out in a pile of bandages, it kept his pretty little darkness all for itself. Convenient! Stiles has Feelings again y'all I could shed a tear.
Except that I WON'T because this is where I basically don't know the plot anymore. I just had to read Wiki plot summaries of the last 3 seasons, which are, ohmilordy, absolute fucking nonsense.
All the shit with the Calveras and Kate being a purple leopard and Derek being both de-aged and human, the Desert Wolf and Kira leaving and the benefactor and the mute and the Beserkers and Liam being introduced and Lydia figuring out the Banshee thing and whatever dumb Peter shit goes on ALL HAPPENS IN SEASON 4? MY GOD. Plus there's extra nonsense with bonfires and magical werewolf viruses and tea leaves that I didn't even KNOW about?
I feel like I deserve a medal for a 5 minute perusal. Anybody that watched all that shit deserves a fucking National Holiday named after them. And that's before all the nonsense with Theo and the Dread Doctors and the Nazi alpha that is apparently NEVER dealt with because of the Ghost Riders and Kate AND Gerard SOME MORE and then some dude named Monroe like Y'ALL.
Y'all.
The plots of this show are a fucking Rat King and Jeff Davis be shot.
Anyway.
Now I know that after Stiles gets his Feelings back, he keeps that shit to himself. Derek's got a lot going on. He's kidnapped! And then is a fetus! And he picks up a hot mercenary girlfriend somewhere and she teaches him how to use guns cuz he's a wooby human for a while. Basically all the plot anybody cares about picks up again in the van on the way to Mexico Part Duex.
Because that's the first time Stiles spends any real time alone (isnt liam passed out for most of it?) with Derek, and he got the feels, but Derek doesn't seem to be doing the weird chemosignal sniffing. (Does stiles know about the humanity in canon? Idc.)
So Derek doesn't appear to like... know. So stiles keeps keeping that shit to himself because it's Too Late anyway. Anything they might have had is long dead.
Speaking of dead! Derek gets gutted! Again y'all. And so of course Stiles is really missing the times when he didn't feel stuff because he loves Derek, fuck does he, and Derek is always a friggin martyr so instead of staying he lets braeden handle it and goes to save scott. With long seconds of forlorn staring and several glances back beforehand, of course. Aka what happened in canon.
So then Derek evolves like a Pokemon, as one does, and when stiles (hauling scott) comes out of the church he's just standing there in the moonlight in all his naked glory.
Stiles drops Scott. There's an affronted sounding 'oof' when he hits the ground, but it doesn't even register for Stiles because Derek's head whips around, nostrils flaring and Stiles knows that Derek Knows.
Stiles blinks and Derek is just there, right in front of him, one filthy hand cradling Stiles jaw.
"Why didn't you say something?" Derek asks and there's more than a little accusation in his voice. Stiles scoffs as dismissively as he can manage.
"What was I supposed to say? 'Hey Derek, surprise! I'm capable of loving you again, so you should break up with your hot, age appropriate girlfriend to go back to sneaking around with a teenage moron who may or may not ever actually tell anyone about you!'"
"Yes," Derek shrugs, and now there's definitely some affronted noises, both from Scott and from Braeden.
"Your girlfriend has a gun," Stiles points out, but it sounds weak to his own ears and Derek doesn't acknowledge it. Stiles is very focused on the rough pad of Derek's thumb tracing the thin skin under his eye. Derek's other hand clenches in the fabric of his shirt, hauling him closer. His own hands come up to curl around Derek's neck and tangle in his hair. It's gritty and greasy and Stiles couldn't care less; Derek's naked and throwing heat like a sauna pressed down the length of him. It's intoxicating against the freezing desert night and Stiles huddles closer.
"So kiss me already," he huffs, and Derek's answering grin is blinding for the split second he can see it before Derek jerks him in the final few inches. Stiles makes an embarrassing noise against Derek's mouth and can't bring himself to care.
Derek's hand slides down his back, settles in the curve of his spine and his fingers dig in. Stiles moans into his mouth again. He can't stop running his hands through Derek's hair, down his neck and shoulders, thinks vaguely he might be trying to climb him but it doesn't matter.
It's probably a long time, longer than Stiles would like to admit, but Lydia finally does interrupt them.
"As lovely as this reunion is, do you think we can go now?" She asks finally, voice strained. Stiles breaks away from Derek just enough to glance over and find her heaving slightly under Scott's weight. Scott, who looks extremely bemused and unhappy, but not terribly angry. Braeden, when he thinks to look for her, is straight up gone.
"Uh, yeah. Hang on," he turns back to Derek, "Do you have like, pants?"
There's more, with like feelings and stuff where Derek says he wants to be with Stiles more than he wants to leave beacon hills, and Stiles is like, deeply moved. And then physically moved because he still does the FBI internship program, Derek just goes with him and stays off the FBI most wanted list.
And that's that on this week's self indulgent bed time story. Now that I've done this I'll have to think of another one for tonight. Oh well.
#sterek#text post#fic#ish#this is a wall of text i'm sorry#i cant figure out the read more on mobile?#but i have all of 2 followers so i apologize for all the scrolling you will have to do to get past this
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