#and she's very good at dialing in to what she needs for dinner in a given week

[longroadstonowhere]

been really into eating these boneless wings from a restaurant near me recently

i feel like that's probably just my body telling me i need more protein? but who knows, it's never been very clear on that front for me

[propertyofwicked]

CAUGHT - LN

summary - sneaking around finally catches up to lando and his best friends little sister

warnings: smut at the very beginning, angst + swearing but fluff!! (fewtrell!reader)

part 3 to first and quiet

masterlist the playlist

“we really need to stop meeting like this,” lando grunted breathlessly, his thrusts never faltering as he bent y/n over the bathroom sink once more.

“maybe try not being so famous and recognisable and we could go on a date? to a restaurant?” y/n panted in response, hips rolling into lando’s tight grip on her waist, “like normal people?”

“but that would spoil the fun,” lando whined jokingly, “besides, if everyone knew about us, we’d have to start fucking in normal places. i don’t know about you but something about this bathroom really does it for me,” he added with a smirk, catching her eyes in the mirror.

“the toothpaste splatter real- fuck,” she started, cut off by the moan wrangling from her throat as lando pushed his length deeper, the pressure of the cold, bathroom counter pushing on her stomach, “keep going, fuck.”

“so good f’me, baby,” lando replied, feeling the way her walls tightened around him as he praised her, “all mi-”

“y/n? are you home?” max called out from the bottom of the stairs, sliding off his shoes.

“fuck sake,” lando groaned, stilling his hips but leaving his cock pressed deep inside of her, “i hate your brother.”

“y-yeah! i’m just….having a shower?” she called out in response before pushing herself up, pressing her back to lando’s chest before whispering, “no you don't. you do, however, need to get out of here without him seeing you.”

“have you seen lando?” max shouted again.

yes, he’s right here and he was very close to bringing me to orgasm, y/n internally grumbled as lando removed himself from her, finding his clothes quickly and tugging them on in a hurry.

“erm, not recently, no!” she replied, wincing slightly at the way her voice stuttered with the lie, her eyes making direct contact with the man in question. his arm reached around her, leaning into the shower and switching the dial quickly, spatters of water landing on his arm as he quickly retracted it.

“right you,” lando started, hands coming to hold her jaw, “shower. i’ll see you later,” he added, pushing her towards the shower, but not before pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, his heart softening at the sight of her eyes slowly closing in his embrace. he walked to the door, slowly prising it open as he peered through the gap, checking the coast was clear. nodding to himself at the empty hallway, he made a run for it, trying to walk in a way that exuded casual, but with some speed in his step.

had he only looked harder, he may have noticed his best friend stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching as he crept his way out of the bathroom.

y/n stepped into the shower, turning on the water just enough to create some steam. she wasn't really there to get clean; she needed a moment to compose herself and keep up the pretence that she was, in fact, taking a shower. she ran her fingers through her hair, feeling the cool droplets against her skin, and sighed.

and as she entered the kitchen, now with convincingly damp hair, y/n saw max sitting at the kitchen island, staring at the wall. his jaw was clenched tight, but every so often, his face would droop in confusion. he looked like he was trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces.

"hey, max," y/n said casually, trying to keep her voice light, "what do you want for dinner tonight?"

max didn't respond immediately. he continued to stare at the wall, his fingers drumming lightly on the counter. finally, he turned his head slowly to look at her.

"why did you say you hadn't seen lando recently," he started, his voice strained, "when he literally walked out of the bathroom you were in? i know your eyesight's not great, but i think even stevie wonder would notice a literal human being stood in the bathroom with him."

y/n's heart skipped a beat. she hadn't expected him to put it together so quickly. "max, i can explain..."

max interrupted, standing up and pacing. "i just don't get it. why would you lie about something like that? why was lando in there with you?"

y/n took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "i didn't mean to lie, max. it's just... complicated."

"complicated?" max echoed, stopping to face her. "you call sneaking around with my best friend complicated?"

"yes, it's complicated," y/n said, her voice rising slightly. "because i didn't know how to tell you without you freaking out like this."

"freaking out?" max said, throwing his hands in the air. "you think this is freaking out? i'm just trying to understand why my sister and my best friend have been hiding this from me. whatever this is."

“max, i-” lando started, emerging from the doorway from where he’d been listening in.

“and you? of all people, you?” max argued, directing his anger at lando, “how did i piss you off that badly that you decide to fuck my little sister for revenge?”

“it’s not like that, we-”

“have you had sex with my sister?” max interrupted bluntly.

“well yes, bu-”

“how long?” max asked, turning to his sister for an answer.

“i’d say 6 and half inc-”

“how long have you been seeing each other, y/n?”

“3 months? 4?” she conceded, allowing her attempt of lightening the situation to wash over, ”and may i just say - insinuating that all i’m good for is a revenge shag? thank you so much for that,” she added sarcastically, smiling at him with no happiness behind it.

“are you serious? 4 months? lando? couldn't you have picked someone else?" max continued to argue, refusing to allow the guilt of his insulting comment to weigh on him in this moment, “literally, anyone else?”

“ouch,” lando commented, looking to the ceiling to avoid the awkwardness in the room, narrowly avoiding the daggers being shot at him from max’s stare.

“well maybe i would’ve if you hadn’t threatened anyone who tried,” y/n sighed, sick of his attitude, “is it that hard for you to just be happy for me? truly, would it kill you?”

“it might,” lando added.

“why didn’t you tell me?” max asked, looking to his sister as his voice lowered for the first time since she’d stepped into the kitchen.

"oh, sure, let me just check with you next time i develop feelings for someone. you don't get to control my life,” y/n rolled her eyes - max may be calming down, but she was just getting started.

“i care about her, max,” lando interrupted, trying to control the situation as he noticed the way y/n’s hands balled into fists against the worktop, “and i didn't want to hurt you or make things awkward between us. it was my idea not to tell you, ‘cos i didn’t know how.”

“we didn't want to cause any drama."

"too late for that," max muttered.

“clearly,” y/n responded bluntly, turning on her heel and heading towards the door as she stormed off in anger. but before she could leave, lando caught her, his grip firm but gentle.

"y/n, wait," he said softly, turning her back to face max. y/n felt lando's hands stay on her hips, rubbing gentle circles into her skin to calm her down. she relaxed slightly but kept her gaze fixed on max.

“i'm sorry for how you found out, but you have to understand that i'm capable of making my own decisions,” y/n said, her voice steady but still tinged with frustration, "finding out your own brother is the reason you have felt so alone for years is not a pleasant feeling, max.”

“it was for your own good.”

“my own good?” she scoffed, feeling the anger rise in her chest again, “for the sake of your own good i suggest you leave right now.”

“this is my house? i live here?”

“yeah? and if you don’t leave now you’re also going to die here,” she gritted, feeling lando’s fingertips press into her skin as a warning that maybe she maybe shouldn’t be so aggressive.

“fine,” max muttered, walking past the two of them and swiftly grabbing his shoes and coat before leaving the house, letting the door slam behind him.

y/n stood frozen for a moment, staring at the closed door. the weight of the situation finally caught up with her, and she felt her composure slipping, her shoulders shaking as the first tears began to fall.

lando was by her side in an instant, turning her round and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. "it's okay, baby," he murmured, rubbing her back in soothing circles, "let it out."

the dam broke, and y/n let herself cry, all the anger, exhaustion, and frustration pouring out in a torrent of tears. she clung to lando, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as she sobbed into his chest. lando held her close, whispering comforting words and continuing to rub her back.

after what felt like an eternity, y/n's sobs began to subside. she pulled back slightly, her face tear-streaked and red. she looked up at lando, her eyes filled with regret.

"we should've been more careful," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"no, y/n,” lando shook his head, his expression firm, “your brother should be less of a dick. this is your life, you live it how you want to, and if he can't handle that, then that's his own burden to bear."

y/n sniffled, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. "but he's my brother. i don't want to lose him over this."

"you won't," lando assured her, his hands cupping her face gently. "he's just shocked right now. he'll come around. but that doesn't mean we should regret being together."

y/n nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "you're right. i'm just... so tired of all this."

"i know," lando said softly, pulling her back into his embrace. "but we'll get through it."

they stood like that for a while, the quiet of the house enveloping them. y/n felt the last of her tears dry up, replaced by a renewed sense of determination.

“i’m proud of you, y’know,” lando started, causing y/n to pull back slightly to look up at him again.

“why?”

“you stood up for yourself,” he smiled, “in all the years i’ve known you, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you stand up for yourself - not even to max. that’s why.”

“thank you,” she mumbled, before grinning at him, “turns out getting fucked daily fills me with confidence - not just cock.”

[rivalsispunk]

Beneath The Surface (Chapter 2 of ongoing series When We’re Alone)

Best friend’s dad!Declan O’Hara, boss!Declan O’Hara x AFAB reader

Series summary: Journalist Declan O’Hara is in need of a personal assistant as his Corinium career skyrockets, and his daughter Taggie has the perfect candidate: her best friend. What seemingly starts as a professional relationship soon snowballs into something both Declan and reader were never expecting and are no longer able to deny.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, (eventual) smut, cursing, age gap romance (reader is a few years older than Taggie), mention of male appendages (IYKYK), more warnings added per chapter

Word count: 3.6k

Chapter summary: Declan grapples with the risk of hiring you while you grapple with whether or not you're good enough. Once the verdict is in, you both realise you may have jumped in feet first a little too hastily.

A/N: Things are heating up in more ways than one and I am soooo ready for you guys to meet the silently unhinged Declan... Oh, and in this universe, Declan did end up interviewing Margaret Thatcher. Also not entirely proofread so may be some mistakes. Happy reading!

© rivalsispunk please do not steal, copy, or translate any of my work onto other platforms!

Chapter Two: Beneath The Surface

“A promise of secrecy was of course very dutifully given, but it could not be kept without difficulty; for the curiosity excited by his long absence burst forth in such very direct questions on his return as required some ingenuity to evade, and he was at the same time exercising great self-denial, for he was longing to publish his prosperous love.”

You’ve spent the last half hour reading, then rereading, the same page of Pride and Prejudice, your creature-comfort book since you were a young teenager. Normally, you’d be able to recite the passage from memory by now, but your mind has been elsewhere than focussed on the words in front of you. It’s been over a week since your interview with Declan and you’ve heard nothing. Zilch. Nada. For days, your brain has been stuck in a constant loop of questions you’ve no answers for.

Why hasn’t he called? 

Why haven’t you heard anything? 

Did he find someone better?

That last one has been the most burning question of them all, coupled with the memory of Declan’s gravelly voice telling you, I’d be lucky to have ya.

So, why hasn’t he called?

It’s not lost on you that you sound more like a needy girl hanging out for a guy after a date than someone waiting to hear back about a job you weren’t even sure you wanted until the moment you were sat in his office. But you do want it.

The job, that is.

Taggie was none the wiser, too. She’d told you her father had barely given her an inkling of where his head was at, and that he remained suspiciously mum on the outcome of the interviews he’d had in the days succeeding yours. “I think he’s just been busy,” she countered, mentioning that Declan had been on edge in the lead up and preparation for his televised interview with Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. You were well aware, and knew how much the opportunity meant to him, so you’d made a conscious effort to stay away from The Priory, as not to overwhelm Declan or put any additional pressure on him to make a decision about the assistant position. Instead, you’d met Taggie in town for afternoon tea on the days she wasn’t preparing for an event, or a meal at Bar Sinister when time called for a catch up. But the Thatcher interview was days ago now — a roaring success with both viewers and ratings — and you were getting restless for news.

Slamming your worn out copy of Pride and Prejudice shut, you reach for the phone by your bedside and dial your best friend for what feels like the fiftieth time this week. You’ve called The Priory so often in recent days that she doesn’t even say hello when she answers.

“Still no word yet,” she sighs down the line. “He’s in an awful mood tonight, though. Went straight up to his office when he got home, refused dinner. I think Mummy being away is getting to him.”

You hum in agreement, not that you have any real insight on the matter. “I’m sure he’s fine, Tag. Probably tired of putting up with that Tony Baddingam’s shit. I told you what a right arse he was to your dad when I was there, didn’t you?”

“You did. Honestly, I didn’t think about anyone else at Corinium when I suggested you work for Daddy. It’s one thing for you to be under him, but to be at the beck and call of Lord Baddingham, too?” You practically hear Tag shudder down the line. “Makes me feel ill the way he treats the women who work for him.”

You push aside any runaway thoughts elicited by Taggie’s mention of you under Declan and shrug. “It’s fine, Tag. I’ve dealt with enough Baddinghams in my time to know to tread carefully.” You pull the phone cable taut and pluck it with your finger. “Besides, I don’t think I’ve got the job anyway. I should have heard by now.”

In the room above Taggie, Declan stubs out his cigarette, reclining in his office chair as he listens to his daughter’s voice reverberate through the house. One final plume of smoke emerges from the pile of ashes and butts that have accumulated in the tray over the last twenty-four hours. He ought to be prepping for his next TV interview, a fairly benign chat with a local farmer who has grand plans for the land on the outskirts of the Cotswolds. A piece of cake, he’d told Tony earlier today when he was asked how his preparation was coming. However, he’d flicked through his notes and research God knows how many times this evening, yet couldn’t recall one lick of fact about his upcoming subject. Instead, he’d spent hours — no, days — agonising over whether he should hire you. His producer, Cameron Cook, was breathing down his neck for him to hire someone so he was spread less thin, but it’s not an easy task. On paper, you’re the perfect choice. Hell, in reality, you’re the perfect choice. Still, he prayed that one of the interviewees after you would prove better candidates (and notably male), but no one measured up to you. Sure, they were intelligent. Passionate, somewhat. But then there was you; intelligent and passionate, and looking far too delectable in that bloody skirt that belongs to his fucking wife. Yes, his wife — that’s if she still even wants to be called that — who’s been gone for weeks without as much as a phone call or letter to the house. Their son, Patrick, had mentioned that she’d phoned a couple of weeks ago to inform him she was back in the city, but spared their university-bound child the details of her whereabouts. Declan loves Maud, despite her shortcomings — of which there are many — but he couldn’t help but resent his wife for her absence, and moreover, for the constant dull ache that had been burdening his cock since seeing her skirt on you. He rationalised that if Maud was here, he wouldn’t be up at night thinking obscene thoughts about his daughter’s best friend who had showed up to his office all smiles and curves in his wife’s long-forgotten hand-me-downs. Every time Declan closes his eyes he sees the shallow dimple that adorns your left cheek. He gets random flashbacks of that black lace bra he imagines holds perfect breasts, if he just allows his mind to wander.

He flexes his hand in an attempt to rid it of the itch that’s been daring him to relieve himself ever since you left his Corinium office. There have been countless instances over the last week where he wondered if he just gave in — just a little, just a stroke, something, anything — that the ache will go away. But there’s a bigger part of him that’s afraid that once he starts, he won’t be able to stop, and then how will he ever be able to face you again? Face Taggie again, knowing the pure filth that’s taken him over in the moments when he’s alone?

Cameron had demanded that afternoon that he chooses someone to pick up his slack by the weekend so help her God or she’ll stick him with an intern with more boobs for brains, and he knows — he knows — he can’t be stuck with someone with the same level IQ as a stale loaf of bread. He’d combust. So, against his better judgement, he decides as he lights yet another cigarette, that he’ll offer you the job as his assistant.

So help him God.

The phone rang just after half seven as you took your first bite of marmite toast. “Do you want the good news or the best news first?” You wince at Taggie’s chirpiness so early in the morning.

“Umm, best ‘til last,” you option. “Good news first.”

“Well, I’m making shepherd’s pie for dinner and you’re coming over.”

“Alright,” you giggle. “And the other news?”

“We’re celebrating.”

“Celebrating you making shepherd’s pie?”

“No, you nitwit! We’re celebrating you! You got the job! Daddy just told me on his way out this morning.”

Your chair whines against the floorboards of your flat as you shoot to your feet. “I got the job?”

“You got the job!” Taggie shrieks down the line. “Daddy said he was going to phone you when he gets to the office but I couldn’t wait to tell you myself. I know you’ve been anxious waiting to hear back.”

“Oh, Tag, I can’t believe it! I really thought he’d found someone more suited,” you express, cheeks pinching with a grin.

“He said he was very impressed with you,” your friend continues, voice laced with pride. “He also suggested we go shopping for some new officewear.”

“So, he hated my outfit, is what you’re saying.” Him and everybody else at that bloody station.

“No, it’s not that. I think him seeing you in Mummy’s clothes freaked him out a little, is all,” Taggie confesses. “He’s been a bit all over the shop since she’s been gone and I suppose when it comes to her, out of sight, out of mind is best.”

You think back to Declan spluttering his tea everywhere during your interview, and his little explosion afterwards. It makes sense that he doesn’t wanted be reminded of the woman who stepped out on him. You were just glad his reaction wasn’t to something you had done.

You and Taggie chat for a few minutes more about potential shopping destinations and your plans for the day before she rushes through a goodbye, eager to get to the market to pick up groceries for your celebratory meal. An hour later, Declan calls.

“Morning, it’s Declan,” he says, words stifled by the cigarette between his lips. “Declan O’Hara.”

You bite down a smile at the unnecessary clarification. You do the same to thwart your enthusiasm at finally receiving his call. “Hiya. It’s nice to hear from you. How’re you this morning, Declan?”

“Yeah, good, good. Tony’s riding my arse as per usual but other than that, good.” Silence reigns as you wait for Declan to relay the good news. After a moment, he clears his throat like he just remembered you’re on the other end of the line. “Look, I don’t have long, but I wanted to give you a bell to let you know the assistant job is yours. If you want it.”

Although you were already aware of the job offer, you do a happy jig in your kitchen. “Yes, thank you! Of course, I accept.”

“Great. Does Monday work as a start date?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be there. Thank you, Declan.”

“Welcome. Chat soon.”

The line goes dead not second later, and while you’re still overcome with excitement about the new job, your chat with your new boss seemed off. Declan seemed off. Far removed from the chatty, friendly man you sat across from at Corinium just days ago. But like he said, Tony was on his back. He’s probably just… tense.

It becomes clear to Declan as he watches you and Taggie move seamlessly around the kitchen while clearing up after dinner that you’re effervescent. Far more than he’s ever noticed, in all the times you’ve visited his daughter over the recent months, and it bothers him. He hated how his pulse quickened at the sight of you on his doorstep two hours earlier, David Bowie T-shirt peeking out from beneath your checkered coat. If you were at least the tiniest bit irksome or slow-witted or just plain dull, he’d be able to reckon with the fact that his reaction to you was purely chemical. Just another man taken by a young woman’s good looks. But then again, if he found you any of those things, he wouldn’t dare allow you anywhere near his work, near his research. Nor would he be impressed with his daughter adopting a friend as such, either. 

Your laughter trills, egged on by the celebratory champagne Taggie had provided, and Declan catches the tailend of his daughter flinging a handful of dishsoap suds in your direction. You were a good girl, a good friend, being there for Taggie in the last few months. Always willing to lend a hand, or an ear, certainly a shoulder to cry on more than Declan liked to think about or admit. But you were just that: a girl. A girl who was now his assistant. He’ll be damned if he were to become another man at Corinium taking advantage of that power imbalance, which is why he replaces his glass of bubbles with a whiskey and retires to his office after supper, pressing a kiss to his daughter’s forehead as he goes.

You decide to sleepover at The Priory after consuming a few too many glasses of champagne for it be considered safe to drive home. Although, sleepover may be too generous of a word because you’ve barely slept a wink since sinking into bed beside Taggie over an hour ago. Your friend, however, had no trouble drifting off, only to start snoring so loudly the whole bed vibrates. You’ve already tried covering your head with a pillow and the counting backwards from one hundred trick to coax yourself to sleep, but it’s no use. You slide out from under the poppy-printed covers and tip-toe downstairs in a sweater hanging on the back of Taggie’s bedroom door. You’re swimming in the woollen brown garment. It falls to mid-thigh and is sleeves are at least half an arm-length too long, but it keeps the chill at bay when you swing open The Priory’s back door. You slide on a pair of Wellington boots that sit on the doormat and step out into the biting air. In it, the inches of skin between the hem of the sweater and your long socks prickle with goosebumps, and your breath forms a fog under the soft glow of fairy lights leftover from a garden party the O’Hara’s hosted in the summer. Somewhere in the distance, a owl twoos and foxes rustle through shrubbery. When you lived in the city, the nights were overrun with sirens and drunken hooligans singing football chants down the alleyways and other racket that made it very difficult to hear yourself think. Meanwhile, out here, in the countryside, you could just be.

“Nice sweater.”

“Fuck!” The sudden verbiage shocks your shoulders to your ears. There’s no mistaking that voice, yet you have to scan the area to see where the Irish lilt is stemming from. It’s not until you hear the swish of water that you realise he’s in the hot tub that’s tucked away from the courtyard, his silhouette barely visible against the night. “Declan. You gave me a fright.”

“Sorry,” he croaks. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head. “Taggie’s snoring like a freight train.”

As your eyes adjust to the dark, you just catch Declan’s moustache quirk with a lazy smile. “Just like her mother.”

The comment coaxes you closer to the tub, waiting for Declan to elaborate, but whatever story he might’ve spieled evaporates with the steam from the water. The heated pool was just another of Maud’s extravagant buys, and Declan hated the addition when it showed up in a delivery van, during summer, of all seasons, because he knew it would be forgotten about in a matter of days once she’d found something new to obsess over. There was always something with Maud. If it wasn’t an extravagant purchase to distract herself with, it was a lover, and if it wasn’t a lover, it was a trip far, far away from the Cotswolds. Her recent truancy being case in point.

There’s hardly any light in this corner of the yard, aside from a small golden glimmer beneath the hot tub surface, but it’s enough for you to take in Declan’s form. He’s lax, whiskey in hand, with his head reclined against the lip of the pool. You notice the thick smattering of chest hair across the breadth of his torso, dark and unruly. The few men you’ve ever been with have been around your age, either trimmed or unable to grow body hair where its desired. But then again, they were just boys in the scheme of things. Declan has always been so fucking manly. His already dark hair black with water, pushed away from his face like he’s slicked it back with his hands. It hasn’t stopped miniscule curls frizzing to fruition at his temples. Declan takes a sip of the amber liquid in his glass.

“If I’m being honest, I thought you’d be a tad more excited when I spoke to you this morning.” The subject change surprises you.

“Oh, trust me, I was! But–“

“But Taggie had already broken the news to you by then, hadn’t she?”

You look down at your feet, not wanting to give your friend away, but Declan knows his daughter has a hard time keeping a lid on her excitement. “It’s alright,” he chuckles. “She means well.”

“She’s a good friend. They’re hard to come by.”

You’re telling me, Declan thinks, taking a one-handed inventory of his own close companions.

The frosty air hugs you and your toes seize under its bite, even through your socks and boots. “Do you mind?” You point to the hot tub. It takes a moment for it to click in Declan’s brain that you’re asking if you can join him. It would be rude for him to say no. Stupid for him to say yes. Instead, he gives a non-commital shrug and whispers Lord, help me into his glass. Over its rim, he watches you perch on the edge of the tub to while you toe off your wellies. They land with a thud on the pavement and you giggle to yourself, oops, when one ricochets into a nearby shrub. Muscles zip up the back of your leg when you peel off your socks, and Declan has to force himself to look away when the hem of your sweater — no, his sweater, one of many Taggie had stolen away — rides dangerously high on your thighs as you swing your legs over the lip of the heated pool. He’s thankful that only one of the lights below the surface is in working order because his prick rouses when a satisfied hum seeps from you as your feet kiss the warm surface. Declan’s jaw ticks. The devil on his shoulder probes that you’re purposely torturing him and his conscious bites back that he’s a sleazy bastard for thinking as much. You’re not doing anything. You’re just here.

Get a grip on yourself, O’Hara, he scolds, and chases it with a swig of whiskey he only hopes will burn away the filthy thoughts you manage to conjure for him.

“You got another one of them?” When he faces you again, you’re pointing at the glass that’s fogged up in his sweaty palm.

“The champagne not enough for ya?”

You roll your eyes. “If you don’t want to share, just say so.”

“You can’t handle this.”

“Are you really going to sit there and tell a girl what she can and can’t handle?” you press, eyes locked in on his. “You’d be surprised what I can handle, Declan.” You don’t mean for it to sound so provocative, but challenging him has set your whole body ablaze. For good measure, you quirk an eyebrow at Declan, and the subtle move has his cock doing the same in the confines of his striped swim shorts. Without another word, Declan floats across the hot tub to where you’re seated and presses his glass into your hand. You offer a thank you in the form of a gentle smile before pressing your full, blush lips to the rim. Tilting the glass to the sky, you can feel Declan’s heavy gaze on you, watching. Waiting. You allow your eyes to fall shut as the bitter prickle of the whiskey waves over your tongue, so you don’t see him slide a hand to the back of his neck. His nails dig crecsents into the skin there, both as punishment for and distraction from the fact his mind is trekking to dark places where your lips are pressed somewhere far more sinister. He can’t keep his eyes off you while you drain what’s left of the whiskey, your eyes fluttering open when you realise there’s nothing left.

“I told you I could handle it,” you tell Declan, ignoring the slight burn that stings at the back of your throat. You both reach your hand into the small space between you, fingers grazing as you pass the glass back to Declan. 

The air between the two of you is charged. You wouldn’t be surprised if someone lit a match and the whole world went up in flames taking the pair of you with it. That same pained look that took Declan’s expression over during your interview rears its head again. Before you get the opportunity to put a name to it, a door creaks in the distance and your name echoes into the night.

“Are you out there?”

Taggie.

Taggie.

There’s a flurry of movement as Declan slides to the opposite side of the hot tub again and you all but catapult yourself onto the pavement as if you’d been caught redhanded. Doing what, you weren’t entirely sure, but you were certain it wasn’t a good look. You yank your socks over your damp feet, followed by the wellies and make a start for where the kitchen light illuminates your friend in the doorway.

“There you are!” she sighs, almost relieved, when you meet her at the step. “You alright? I thought you might’ve driven home after all.” “God, no. I’m fine! Just…” you glance over your shoulder to where the blaze of a cigarette burns in the darkness. “Just getting some air.”

Loved writing this chapter, and things are just getting started!! Reblog, share, comment: it all means the world to me!! <3

Previous chapters: Chapter 1: The Interview

[avenging-fandoms]

okay, i just got this angst at start but fluffy ending type of storyyy. can you do something where the reader is pregnant, and only hotch knows, so he’s panicky when he finds out they found where she’s at but calms down when he sees that she’s okay and only has a few scratches on her face? if not that’s fine but thank you for reading!! have a great day angel 🥰

Yn only found out 3 months ago that she was pregnant and hadn’t told anyone yet, expect for Aaron. He was her boss and also the father but no one on the team knew that.

Yn and Aaron started to secretly see each other almost a year after Haley died. Slowly the two started to meet for breakfast, then he was making dinner, then Yn was meeting Jack.

“Oh my goodness, you’ve popped.” Yn stands in the bathroom mirror in her bra and underwear as she gets ready, Aaron holding Yn’s hips to make her turn. He hums and holds her stomach, kissing her neck. “I can’t believe this is happening, are you sure you want to wait to find out what it is?”

Yn chuckles and puts her hand over his. “I’m sure, hon. Don’t you love waiting until the day they come earth side?” She looks at him in the mirror and he smiles, kissing the side of her head.

“You’re right, get dressed. I’ve made french toast.” He mumbled against Yn’s ear lobe and she giggles, kissing him quickly before he leaves the bathroom.

A year and some months later, Yn sat on the bathroom floor while Aaron sat on the tub, Jack on her lap. “Can I look Daddy?”

Yn smiles at the idea. “Of course you can, buddy. If it has a smiley face, that means there’s a baby in Yn’s belly.”

Jack stands up and you grab Aaron’s hand, kissing it a few times when Jack grabs the test. “There’s a smile!”

Yn gasps as Aaron lets out all the air in his lungs. “We’re having a baby.” Aaron whispers, kissing his girlfriend softly. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, Aaron.”

Both Aaron and Yn were shocked the team of profilers hadn’t figured it out yet, but they had it all planned out, that was until the baby news arrived.

The team delivered the profile of the unsub, a man in his 30s kidnapping women at night. It was Yn’s idea to be used at a decoy, which Aaron shut down immediately.

“Come on, Hotch, you guys will be near, no? If anything happens you guys will save me.” The rest of the team nods and looks at Aaron.

“I still think it’s a bad idea. He’s very quiet, we might not be able to catch him.”

“We will, come on, I can do this.” Derek nods and rubs Yn on her back.

“I believe in you.” He reassures his friend and Yn gives him a small smile.

“Alright, let’s plan this out so we don’t miss him.”

Yn was dressed normal, no vest, just jeans and a jacket walking down the street, sitting on a bench in the dimly lit park. The only thing she could hear was her breath until the ear piece turned on.

“You can do this, Yn. Please, be careful.” Aaron spoke softly. “I love you.”

She does the sign for ‘I love you’ and looks around, hearing the snap of twigs and then everything goes dark.

-

“Hotch, she’s not here.” JJ spoke over the radio and Aaron steps on the gas pedal, bringing the car to a screeching halt when he gets to the park.

“Where did she go? Did he get her?” He looks around frantically, yelling her name a few times.

“We believe so, sir. I have Penelope looking at the cameras-” Aaron didn’t let Jennifer finish as he calls Penelope on speed dial.

“Garcia, tell me you have something on the cameras.” His tone was harsh, his eyebrows knit and JJ watches his behavior.

“All I got, sir, is Yn doing the.. rock star sign and a brown van and he’s.. oh my god. He threw Yn into the back of it.” Aaron bows his head and sighs, knowing it wasn’t the rock sign.

“Try and get that license plate, Garcia, we need to know who he is and where he’s going.” Aaron hangs up and gets back in his car, Derek walking over to JJ.

“Is he okay?” Derek asks as they both look at Aaron.

“He didn’t want to do this in the first place, he’s probably beating himself up for saying yes.”

Aaron’s phone rings and he answers it immediately. “What do you have, Garcia?”

“An address, sir.”

-

Yn’s head hangs as she was chained to a wooden pole standing up, hands strapped at her sides. “Hello?” She speaks groggily, gasping at a man sitting in a chair across from her.

“You’re with child.” The unsub spoke, looking at Yn’s bare stomach. He had cut her shirt off, leaving her in her bra with her belly clearly out, unprotected. “Do you know how special that is?”

Tears fall down Yn’s face as she nods slowly. “It’s my first.” She speaks weakly, chin trembling, barely able to look at the unsub.

“I hope it’s a boy.” He gets up from his chair, sauntering over and dragging a hand on her stomach which made Yn cry harder.

“Please..” She sobs loudly, trying to wiggle her way out but it was no use, the tip of the knife dragging along her skin, tracing a circle on her belly.

“FBI!” Aaron’s voice booms off the warehouse walls and the unsub picks up the knife to put to Yn’s neck and Aaron puts 4 bullets in his body, an extra one in the head. “Yn.” He holsters his gun immediately and rushes over to his girl.

Yn sobs as he holds her face, crying with her. “Let me out, please.” He unbuckles the straps and picks her up off the stand, Rossi draping his jacket over her shoulders.

“Are you okay?” His hand falls on Yn’s stomach and she sobs, holding his arm tightly.

“Take us home, please.” She keeps the jacket tightly closed as Aaron helps her out of the building.

Police and ambulances surround the building and Aaron take Yn to the nearest one. “She’s pregnant, help her, please.” He puts her on the gurney and the team’s eyes widen behind him.

“She’s.. pregnant?” Emily asks and Aaron looks at them, hand on the door to step in the ambulance with Yn. Emily’s eyes narrow, studying his face and giving him a smile. “Congratulations, sir.”

The rest of the team finally catches on and some jaws drop, but every person congratulates him and wishes them good luck.

Aaron holds Yn’s hand all the way to the hospital, giving the doctor all of her medical history and following the nurses and doctor into a room.

For an hour they were constantly checking in on Yn, making sure her and the baby were okay. An OB came to check on them, bringing an ultrasound.

She puts the wand on Yn’s stomach, moving it around searching for a heartbeat. Yn squeezes Aaron’s hand during the silence, closing her eyes and opening them when she hears the most beautiful sound.

“A great heartbeat, your baby girl looks healthy.” Yn and Aaron look at each other with smiles, Aaron standing and holding her head as they cry. “I’ll let you two be, congratulations.”

They thank her softly and Aaron gets in the bed with her, stroking Yn’s hair. “A baby girl.” He chuckles and kisses her head.

“So much for waiting.” She sniffles and smiles. “I don’t care, I care that she’s healthy. I was so scared.. he..” Yn takes a deep breath and snuggles into Aaron, stroking her thumb over her stomach. “He said he wished it was a boy, and dragged the knife in a circle.. he was going to hurt her..”

“I know, I know.” He tilts Yn’s chin up and kisses her softly. “I think we need to take a vacation. Me, you and Jack. No stress, just relax.” Yn hums and closes her eyes, laying her head on Aaron’s chest.

“Is she sleeping?” Yn’s eyes open slowly as she hears Spencer’s voice. The two had been close the day Yn started so it was no shock he was here before anyone else. “Hey, Yn.”

“Hi Doc.” She sits up as well as Aaron, Spencer tucking his hands in his pocket.

“Are you okay? Is the.. baby okay?” His voice was cracking and Yn looks at her best friend.

“Spencer..”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He takes a step closer and she grabs his wrist.

“I’m sorry, Spencer. I just didn’t know how to tell anyone I was dating the boss, let alone having his baby.” The three share a laugh and Yn looks at him. “We were actually talking and we were wondering if you’d be our daughter’s godfather.”

“Of course, thank you.” Spencer squeezes Yn and she smiles, Aaron smiling at the two.

Yn recovered in a little over a week, and her, Aaron and Jack were off to Florida for a few weeks of sunshine, theme parks and no worries.

[kujakumai]

On the subject of being good with children, which characters do you think WOULD be good babysitters?

YUGIOH CHARACTERS AS BABYSITTERS, RANKED

TOP PICKS:

Seto Kaiba runs an entire company dedicated exclusively to safely entertaining children, and unless his parks are getting continually sued I believe he knows how. Your kindergartner is not only safe with him but will probably leave knowing how to play chess and write in C++. He may allow them to play with knives, but only if they're 9 or over, plus he has all the emergency numbers on speed-dial.

Hiroto Honda babysits his niblings on the regular. Can warm a bottle and change a diaper. A level-headed and practical guy. He’ll be fine as long as his friends don't drag him into a horrible game-themed deathtrap. Don't ask why that caveat exists.

Rishid Ishtar is safe, experienced, has dad energy, however he will crumple like wet paper at the first sign of conflict re: ice cream for dinner / no bedtime / blood-soaked cross-country quest for revenge / an extra episode of cartoons over the screentime limit.

Ishizu Ishtar would make a great babysitter. I don't really have a quirky joke here she just would.

"MAYBE"S

Jonouchi used to watch his little sister and I think he'll do about as well as any other teenager you're paying minimum wage, and with a lot of earnest enthusiasm. Your child will be fine at the end of the night, though they will probably have eaten some junk food and played a T rated videogame.

I do not think Atem would know what to do with a baby, and may panic about it, though if you have an older child he will be happy to offer a rousing speech and some deep-voiced mentorlike advice while teaching them to play board games. Not a bad choice, just try not to leave him with anyone under seven.

Yugi knows zilch about kids and often appears a little annoyed by them. Same general rules as Atem--do not leave him with a baby, but he'll probably just teach an older kid to play shogi or something.

Mai Kujaku will put the kid in front of the television and order pizza while she paints her nails. Honestly, though, what more are you paying her for?

Listen, I love Anzu. I do. She’s smart, driven, and big-hearted, but she is also sort of short-tempered and impatient, and patience is like 90% of child-rearing. Please do not ask Anzu Mazaki to watch your children. She WILL say yes because she needs the money, and she WILL go into it with optimism and gumption, and yes, both she and your child will both be in one piece at the end of the night, but it will be clear from both of their frazzled expressions that she lost most of her sanity an hour in after the fifth "Why?"

DEFINITELY NOT

Ryou Bakura would in theory be a perfectly good, if kind of spacey, babysitter, but you cannot trust him to remain Ryou Bakura, and the other guy is definitely not someone you want anywhere near your children.

I don't think Marik Ishtar has ever interacted with a child for very long and the number of people he talks to that are even his own age is in the single digits. And he is definitely not getting spat on or dealing with any bathroom stuff. I'm not saying he can't figure it out but the learning curve is going to be steep.

I have to put Yami Bakura here in principle and yet for some reason I think it wouldn't go that bad? I mean he definitely doesn't care about the safety of your child. And he may enlist them to the armies of darkness. And he's not cleaning anything up. But he's like, a weird socially awkward over-the-top guy? And children love those? Honestly I think they would both have fun. For at least an hour until everything goes horribly wrong.

Please do not summon Zork Necrophades to babysit your child.

[vicsnook]

Never Left Me Pt. 1 | Scott Miller x Reader

word count: 2330

warnings: arguing, Scott being Scott

notes: Hello! I’m still here y’all, just been dealing with a lot of personal stuff so haven’t been able to write as much as I’d like. But here is a little something for this brat of a man who had probably less than 10 minutes of screen time but continues to live in my head rent free. Hope you enjoy and part 2 will be up Sunday! As always, please don’t forget to like and reblog 🫶🏼.

A row of desks is all that stands between me and the man who I once thought might have a soul despite what everyone else said. Everyone that is sitting on the desks is thankfully too busy to see me coming and that’s how I make it past the receptionist and to his office.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Scott! You can’t go through with this!” I yell as soon as I walk in. The anger is still cursing through me from where I read the termination email.

His eyes lift up from the monitor and I can tell immediately by his expression that he is very displeased by my interruption. Well that makes two of us now, I think to myself.

“Sorry sir, she ran past me,” says the receptionist from behind me and I don’t need to turn around to know she’s giving me a nasty look.

He looks between us before waving her off. “It’s fine, Kathy. Please excuse us.”

“It’s one thing to have investors when you could do our research with grants and not have to be unethical.” I fume. “It’s another to let the biggest asshole in Oklahoma now own half the company and let him fire half of us without cause.”

He scoffs, not bothering to look at me. “I did what was best for the company. Sorry you didn’t make the cut. If you need any letters of recommendation, please let Kathy know.”

It takes everything in me not to walk over and smack the attitude out of him but I know I might need the stupid recommendation so I take a deep breath instead.

“Anything else? Or do I need to get security to escort you out?” He says, looking at me with those icy blue eyes that once gave me butterflies.

“When this inevitably blows up in your face, don’t bother to call.” I respond and walk out, not bothering to close the door on my way out which I know he hates.

The elevator is slow to get me to the lab where I pick up what little I keep in my office and then with one last look to the place that I once considered my second home, I start to head out. Taking down the picture of Javi, Kate, Scott, and I from the wall and throwing it in the trash can before I get on the elevator.

After eating way too much ice cream for dinner and playing darts with Scott’s picture attached to the board, I realize I have no idea what to do next. Only thing that’s for certain is that bills will pile up quickly if I can’t get another job soon though.

So I dial the only person I know might help me and hope my past job is something he can look past. Hope fills me up when he picks up on the first ring. His southern drawl already making me feel like things will actually be okay.

-

“Good lord, Y/N, as I live and breathe! What the heck are you doing here city girl?” Asks Boone, pulling me in for a much needed hug.

“Well the city didn’t really want me anymore so here I am.” I admit, looking at my feet as I blush in embarrassment.

Boone knows me too well and it won’t be long before I know I’ll have to keep him from punching Scott in the mouth. Even if he really deserves it. He sighs in response, looping his arm through mine and leading me to the rest of the team.

“Look at what the cat dragged in, come here girl,” Dani says, enveloping me into a hug that Lily is quick to join into. “Welcome aboard,” they whisper before pulling away.

“Alright, Alright, let’s not suffocate our newcomer. We still gotta show her the ropes.” He says, and I feel my heart begin to race. Damn you, Tyler Owens for having this effect on me, well actually, on most of the female population.

“Thanks again for the opportunity,” I say, turning around to meet his eye. The past couple of months definitely did him well, I think as I take in his physique.

“Don’t mention it.” He responds, leaving me to get acclimated with my new role in his team.

-

Soon enough we’re racing down the road to where a Tornado has begun to form but before we can turn into the street that will lead us right to it, the Scarecrow truck that I once shared with Scott cuts us off.

“God I hate that asshole,” Tyler mumbles as we resume our journey, now trailing Scott who can’t seem to pick a speed. “Turn left up here, then turn right before the dead end, it’ll put us right ahead,” I tell Tyler who is quick to follow instructions as I buckle into the harness and hold the steering wheel so he can do the same.

But the action is over before it’s even begun as the tornado quickly dissipates before it reaches us. Tyler and I look at each other and down at the computer which shows no other storms in the area today.

“Maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow,” I say, radioing the rest of the team who suggests heading to the diner down the road for dinner.

“So what happened between Kate, Javi, and Scott? Why did they take off?” Tyler asks, as he drives down the nearly deserted back roads that lead to the town.

“Scott had a majority share in Storm Par because of his uncle and after the stunt Kate and Javi pulled in Reno, he had them pretty much fired.”

“Well, I got that already from Kate and being there but why didn’t they come back?” He asks, and I know exactly what he’s really asking. Why did Kate ghost him?

But I don’t know how to tell him the truth. So I try to do the one thing I suck at. Lie. “They just got busy, I guess. Javi got a job with Kate last I heard and it just worked out better up there for them,” I say, avoiding eye contact.

“I bet it did,” he mutters, and I can’t help the guilty feeling in my stomach. But could he handle the truth?

-

We head up to Texas the following week and the ride is mostly silent except for me giving directions to Tyler every once in a while. I don’t think he takes up very well to lying since he’s stopped trying to make friendly conversation and will only talk about work.

The motel comes into view and it isn’t the nicest. But when are they ever nice?

Tyler hands me my room key and I grab my bag. It feels odd being here without the rest of the team but we need to be in two places at once sometimes to get our data.

“Hey Tyler, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for lying the other day. I really hate to start our work relationship on the wrong foot.” I say, as we walk up the stairs to the rooms.

“So why don’t you tell me the truth then?”

His green eyes lock on mine and I suddenly feel nervous. “Kate, she wasn’t ready to be here. After her and Javi got fired, they figured they could make a better difference up in New York working with NOAA.” His face twists into a frown. “For what it’s worth Ty, she almost came back for you but you’ve gotta understand after what she went through, she just wasn’t ready.”

“I just wish she would’ve called.”

“I’m sorry, Ty. But she’s coming to see her mom in a few weeks. Maybe show up? See what’s up?”

“I just might. Now go on and get some sleep. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” He says, and I nod heading into my room.

-

“Ugh!” I grunt when my alarm goes off the next morning.

Why did I pick this job when I’ve never been a morning person?

I shower quickly and pack my dirty clothes back into my bag and as I put on my shoes there’s a knock on my door. He sure is punctual.

“Hey we’re getting some crazy weather east of here. You ready?” Tyler asks as soon as I open the door. “Yep, let me grab my stuff.”

By the afternoon we’ve already had two F1’s and a whole lot of data collected so Tyler decides we can head for some lunch.

The sight of the Storm Par truck is enough to make my appetite go away as I spot the scarecrow sticker on the back but nevertheless I follow Tyler in and order a burger.

“Hey I gotta make a call, I’ll be right back.” Tyler tells me and I’m left alone in the booth picking at my fries. Unfortunately for me it isn’t for long as Scott slides in to the seat across from me.

“Didn’t think you’d go work for the hillbillies,” he says, stealing one of my fries and I roll my eyes. “What the hell do you want Scott?”

“Just to offer you a job. I need a navigator.”

I scoff. “I told you I’m not working for you again.” I can feel his eyes on me but I refuse to look up.

“Suit yourself,” he says, sliding out of the booth and leaving me alone. God I cannot stand that man.

“Y/N! We gotta go!” yells Tyler, rushing back into the diner and I throw two 20’s on the table and run after him. Noticing Scott also getting up to follow.

The weather has changed in the little time we were in the diner. What was a clear sky is now dark gray and the rain starts to come down hard as I slam the truck door shut.

“It’s coming this way, look at the radar,” says Tyler as he shifts the truck in gear and soon we are speeding down the two lane highway. “Ty, it’s starting, oh God.”

The tornado is forming right ahead of us and as I stare at the screen in my laptop I realize it’s headed straight for the diner.

“Fuck, hold on!” yells Tyler, doing a U-turn and speeding back towards the diner. We need to move fast and get these people to safety.

I hop out as Tyler puts the truck in park and we rush back inside, Tyler yelling out to get to the back since there isn’t a storm shelter. People nearly trample us as they file into the back room.

I turn to the windows, the sound of the familiar sirens is almost deafening and that’s when I see him. Scott is pulling into the parking lot and the tornado is right behind him.

“Y/N! Get in here!” Yells Tyler but it’s muffled. My body is almost in autopilot as I sprint to the door to try to save the man who’d probably leave me for dead.

“Scott!” I scream, the rain is coming down harder and I can hardly see anything. The ground shakes beneath me but I push through to where I think I see him and we collide. “C’mon!” I yell as I pull him with me to safety and it’s like everything is in slow motion.

The windows burst into shards of glass and I duck, hoping Scott did too. My hand never leaving his as I continue to pull us inside and we make it, just barely.

He envelops me in his arms as the tornado goes over the diner and everything around us rattles. The screams of the people around us are terrifying and I think “Is this where we die?”

And just like that it’s over.

We survived.

-

I sit in a booth wincing in pain as Scott and Tyler pull glass shards out of my face and arms. The pain is nauseating and all I want is a shower and a nice bed.

“What were you thinking going after him?” asks Tyler when Scott walks back to the bathroom to get more paper towels.

“I wasn’t.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well that much is clear.”

I nod in agreement as he takes the paper towels from Scott and dabs at my cuts and I wince in pain.

“Yeah, you need to go back home and get some proper rest.” Tyler says, and shushes me before I can protest. “I’ll book you a flight tomorrow. Take a few days off. I’ll be back in Oklahoma by the time you’re good to go.”

I nod reluctantly.

“I can take her back, I’m heading back up tonight.” Scott says from behind Tyler and I stiffen at the suggestion. “Y/N, that's okay with you?” Asks Tyler looking at me and as much as I want to say no, I know if he doesn’t have to buy me a flight, he can use the money to help the community affected so I nod.

“C’mon I’ll take you back to the motel to get your things. Can you meet us there Scott?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he responds.

The car ride is silent other than the radio reporting the damages and all I can think of is wanting to stay but I know better than to argue with Tyler.

I slowly gather my things when we get to the motel trying to avoid spending much time with Scott. Why did I really go after him?

The hot water feels good on my skin as I wash away the blood and remaining pieces of glass. The alarm on my phone startles me and I step out knowing we have to go soon.

I wince as I apply ointment on my cuts then head out the door to meet Tyler and Scott.

“Drive safe!” Tyler yells as Scott pulls out into the highway and I know it’ll be a long six hours as he turns up the radio.

click here for part 2 🫢

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Corn Cob (The Surprise, Part 14)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: explicit language, discussion of AFAB body parts, pregnancy times, blood, medical/miscarriage scare, invasive medical exams (hello, again, Pap smear), vague references to past abuse, happy ending Word count: 2.4k

Summary: When you find blood in your underwear, you panic. Emily races to you, both working against time to make sure the baby is okay.

Week 24: The Corn Cob

You’d thought it was going to be a normal day, a good day even. It was Friday. Emily wasn’t in the field. She’d even promised to be home on time. You’d just returned from the grocery store with ingredients to cook dinner, when you had to run to the bathroom. You were always running to the bathroom these days. Little corn cob didn’t leave a whole lot of room for your bladder.

But when you pulled down your pants, a flash of red made your stomach drop. You sat down heavily on the toilet, head reeling. You felt like you might be sick. You’d had cramps today, but that wasn’t unusual. It wasn’t supposed to be unusual. But the blood? This was way too much blood to be spotting. You looked down at your stomach, placing your hands on either side, and hoping, praying, with everything you had in you, that the little one was okay. But you hadn’t felt her kick all day. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

Your breath was caught in your throat, and you couldn’t seem to pull it in. You pressed your hands to your face and noticed that you were crying, that your hands were shaking. You didn’t think you’d ever been so scared, so helpless.

You pulled out your phone, letting out a sob as your home screen came to life–one of the sonogram photos of the baby’s blurry little face. It was dialing, and suddenly you were even more scared to tell Emily. What if you had lost the baby? You didn’t think you’d ever forgive yourself if you lost her. How would Emily?

“Hi, honey!” Her voice was so bright, so happy. You felt paralyzed with fear.

You sucked in a shaky breath, and Emily’s tone changed immediately.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“Emily, I’m bleeding!” you gasped, tears streaming down your face as you wrapped your arms around your baby bump.

“What!?”

You could hear her voice shift, could hear movement, and you knew she was coming. You felt the wave of panic subside just a little. Not much, but a little. Emily was coming. She was on her way. You needed her, and she was coming.

“What do you mean bleeding?!” she asked, frantic. “Bleeding where!?”

“Out my vagina!” you cried, sucking in big gulps of air that didn’t seem to ever get to your lungs. You felt lightheaded.

“Okay,” she said, and you could tell she was trying her best to stay calm, even as her voice shook, even as you knew she had to be panicking herself. “Okay. Honey? I need you to hang up and call Dr. Delgado.”

“I’m scared, Em…” Your voice was high and desperate, and tears dripped from your face.

Her voice changed again, and you heard the ambient noise of traffic. She would be here soon. She was coming. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. Alright? I’m on my way. I’ll be there as soon as I can. But I need you to call Dr. Delgado. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you.

“Okay. That’s good, honey. You’re doing great. Now you hang up and you call her. And then you can call me back right after, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you,” Emily added. And it was only then that you could really hear the fear in her voice, the absolute terror.

“I love you, too,” you told her, trying to stop a fresh wave of tears.

All the panic Emily’s voice had kept at bay came flooding back in after she hung up, and your fingers were shaky as you scrolled through your contacts to find Dr. Delgado.

The conversation was quick, no-nonsense. Just questions and answers. But as soon as Dr. Delgado determined that the bleeding wasn’t light, she got serious.

“Y/N, you need to go to the emergency room as soon as possible,” she told you.

“Is this…” You gulped. “Am I miscarrying?” You were afraid to ask, afraid to hear the answer.

“It’s rare in the second trimester, but I can’t say for sure. It’s imperative for you to get to the hospital as soon as you can.”

“Okay. I will.” You were suddenly even more scared than you’d been before.

“Give me a call once you’ve been seen,” she told you.

“Thanks, Dr. Delgado.”

Trying to pull yourself together, you got up, running to your closet for a new pair of underwear, adhering so many pads to it that you might as well have been wearing a diaper. You rang Emily on speakerphone, and she picked up immediately.

“What’d she say?!”

“I need to go to the hospital,” you told her, stumbling as you pulled on a pair of maternity leggings.

Emily exhaled shakily. “Alright,” she said. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Meet me in the parking lot. Are you okay? Can you make it down there?”

“Mmhm.” You sniffed. “How’d you get here so fast?!”

“I took a Bureau SUV. Morgan’s driving. We’ve got the lights and sirens going.”

“Please hurry,” you said, quiet and scared, locking the door behind you and sprinting to the elevator.

“I’m coming, baby. Just a little bit longer. It’s gonna be okay.”

Emily quite literally leapt out of the passenger side of the SUV as it screeched into the parking lot. Her eyes were wide and alarmed as she ran to you, nearly tackling you in a hug. You were so relieved to see her you thought your knees might buckle under you. Seeing her triggered a fresh wave of tears, and she cupped your face, wiping them away.

“It’s alright, honey. I’m here.” She led you to the back of the SUV, never letting go of your arm, never removing her hand from your back where she held you steady. Then, slamming the door, she sprinted to the other side, jumping in the backseat with you.

“Drive,” she told Morgan.

“Jesus Christ, Derek!” you exclaimed, as you peeled out of the parking lot and onto the road, swerving and moving at speeds that would be illegal in any other situation.

“Sorry, mama,” he called back. “Gotta get you to the hospital.”

“Just close your eyes, honey,” Emily said, kissing the side of your head, and pulling you protectively into her.

Emily scanned you up and down, one of her hands resting on your baby bump. You were trying very hard to keep from crying.

“Are you in pain?” she asked quietly.

You shook your head, blinking back tears. “Cramps, but I didn’t think anything of it. I should’ve known something was wrong. I just– I thought she was sleepy today. I haven’t felt her move. God, I’m so stupid! What if she’s–” You sucked in a shaky breath.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Emily said, placing her hands on either side of your face. “You’re spiraling. We don’t know that anything’s wrong. Let’s not worry until we have to.”

But she was worried, too. You could tell. Your eyes were swimming. “I’m so scared, Em,” you squeaked.

“Me too,” she sighed, pressing her forehead to yours.

At the ER, you thought Emily might actually assault a health professional to get you seen faster. Your anxiety came out in tears. Emily’s anxiety came out in her being absolutely, terrifyingly authoritative. You kept tugging on her sleeve, hissing, “Em, don’t be mean! They’re just doing their jobs!”

But you had to hand it to her. She got shit done. You were in an OBGYN exam room with a doctor–”A doctor, not a nurse!” Emily insisted–within fifteen minutes of your arrival. Which, in your experience, was nearly unheard of.

The doctor sat and rolled over to the exam table. You sat, holding Emily’s hand tightly, already in the hospital gown one of the nurses had given. “Thank you so much,” you’d said, trying to make up for Emily’s brashness. He held a clipboard, reading the scribbled intake notes the nurse had taken.

“Alright, Ms… Y/L/N?”

You nodded.

“I’m Dr. Booker. I see you’ve had some vaginal bleeding today. Would you classify it as a lot or a little?”

“A lot,” you replied, voice shaky.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Any pain, nausea, fever?”

“Umm, just some cramps. Nothing really bad.”

He scribbled a bit more.

“Okay.” He set the clipboard down and slapped his hands on his thighs, rolling even closer to you. “Mind if I take a look?”

You gulped and nodded, tears threatening at your eyes again, as you watched him roll to the nearby cabinets and pull out a speculum. Emily squeezed your hand, watching you sympathetically. She knew that you did, in fact, mind if he took a look. This was your worst nightmare as far as doctor visits went. Not only did someone have to touch you, look at you, shove something inside of you, but it was a man. And you hadn’t had any time at all to emotionally prepare.

You trembled. Emily pressed her lips to your ear as the doctor pulled on gloves. “Do you want me to ask for a woman?” She was so quiet you could barely hear her.

You shook your head, staring hard at the ceiling. “I just want to know what’s wrong,” you whispered. “As fast as possible.”

She kissed your forehead, smoothing your hair as you lay back. You breathed deeply, trying to prepare yourself for the cold metal, the pressure, the feeling of being violated that somehow never went away, no matter how many times you had to do this stupid examination. But this time, it was for your baby. And you would do anything, anything at all, to protect your child.

So you braced yourself against the speculum, sucking in a shaky breath as the doctor forced it inside of you, seemingly oblivious to the ordeal he was facilitating. Emily held your hand tight in one of hers, the other gently rubbing the side of your face, catching any tears that fell.

She hated this. She hated this for you. But she loved you so deeply, so desperately for being so brave. She’d always known that you were the one for her, had known from the very beginning, but she knew even more now, in this moment, that she couldn’t have found a better person to have a child with. You were mothering, she realized. Right now, on this exam table, choking back tears, trying hard not to write away from the doctor’s hands inside of you. You were being the baby’s mom. And she loved you so much for it.

“Ah!” the doctor exclaimed, rolling away for a moment and leaving the speculum inside you. You felt your heart drop. You couldn’t breathe as you waited for him to roll back, to finish his thought. Emily’s leg bounced so fast and so hard that the sound seemed to take over the whole room.

The doctor rolled back with a petri dish, and you flinched as he reached back inside you. You felt a pinch and gasped, then grimaced as the doctor placed a small stalk of tissue into the petri dish and shut the lid.

“Cervical polyp,” he said. “Nothing to worry about. The little buggers just bleed a lot.”

“Oh, thank god.” Emily let out a shaky sigh, bending forward and pressing her hand over her mouth.

“So the baby’s okay?” you asked, terrified to hear the answer.

“Healthy as a horse,” he nodded. “I can do an ultrasound if it’ll make you feel better.”

You both nodded vigorously.

“What about Y/N?” Emily pressed. “Is she okay? What is a… cervical polyp?”

He waved her off. “She’s completely fine. Cervical polyps are just irregular growths. Very common. Almost always benign.”

“Almost!?” Emily exclaimed, sitting up rail straight, eyebrows furrowed.

“We’ll send it off for testing just to be sure, but 99% of them are benign.”

Your body shook with relief, but you couldn’t quite let the anxiety go. Not until you’d seen the baby.

Emily bit her nails as the doctor squirted the gel on your belly, rubbing the wand over your baby bump.

You let out a relieved sob as the baby’s head came into view, and Emily planted kiss after kiss on your cheek. The sound of the heartbeat filled the room, and you and Emily pressed your heads together, both weepy, both more relieved than perhaps you’d ever been.

“All’s well, ladies,” he said, removing his gloves and handing you a paper towel to wipe off the gel. “It’s been a pleasure. A nurse will bring your discharge papers by. You might experience some cramping, and the bleeding won’t stop right away. But it should slow and stop within the next 24 hours.”

“Thank you so much,” Emily said, rising to shake his hand. She was all charm now that you and the baby were okay.

But, even still, she did not let her hands leave you even once as you walked into the waiting room, Derek wrapping his wide arms around both of you.

“I’m not gonna lie, mama, you had me worried,” he said, squeezing your hand. He left to get the car, and you and Emily made your way outside to wait for him.

“Jesus Christ,” Emily mumbled shakily, her arm around your waist to steady you. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.”

You frowned at her. “You’ve literally been held hostage. You had to fake your own death.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, pulling you into her chest and resting her chin on your head. “And the thought of losing you or the little guy is way worse than either of those things.”

Emily held your face between her hands and pressed a kiss to your forehead before melding her lips with yours. You sighed into her, the anxiety and panic of the day rolling off of you.

You jumped at the sound of a car horn. Derek smirked, rolling down the window. “I swear, you two can’t go two minutes without being all over each other.”

You blushed, and Emily flipped him off, but you were both loose and happy with relief. You let Emily wrap you in her arms in the backseat, knowing that she’d need that for a while–to hold you close, protectively, to reassure herself that you were safe.

You knew you’d get home and lay down and she’d get you your heating pad, and then she’d pull your head into her chest, lace her legs with yours. And you’d feel like nothing bad in the world could touch you, not in Emily’s arms.

[dazedandconfused-15]

Heaven's in your eyes (Part 2)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

@tatumrileyslover @nocturnest @i-keepmyideals @eddiestans-blog here you go!

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It has been exactly six days since Billy dropped you home that Monday after the trip. The following days he never fails to greet you if you cross paths in the hallways. He hasn't ignored you once, even though you haven't called him yet. The truth is, you are terrified of doing so. When you think about dialing his number, two days later, you think it's too soon and you will look desperate, so you put the phone receiver back in its place. At the same time, you keep mulling over his words. 'Call me when you feel like it'. It means you don't have to call him right away, maybe he really means to call him when you feel like it. On Saturday morning, you decide it's the perfect time to call him. Enough time has passed to avoid seeming desperate, but not so much that it seems like you don't want anything to do with him. You need to repay the favor, and even though it's pouring rain outside, you pick up the phone.

After a couple of hours of pondering and racking your brain, you decide to take the risk and go for it. You had written Billy's number down as soon as you got inside, safely on a piece of paper. As the phone rings, you're already regretting your decision, feeling nervous as hell.

“Hello,” a girl's voice answers.

“Oh, um, hello. Is Billy there?”

You definitely didn’t expect a girl to answer. She sounds very young.

“Hold on,” she says, sounding bored. You quickly move the phone away from your ear as she screams Billy’s name.

A few seconds later you hear the rustle of the phone being moved around. “...cking yelling like a banshee. Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Y/N” you say, hoping he remembers your name. It would be weird if that’s the case.

“Hey. What’s up?” he says instead.

You instantly feel relieved. 

“You told me to call you when I wanted. I hope it’s not a bad time.”

“‘Course not,” he says. “You okay?”

“I’m good, thank you. And you?”

“Yeah, same. What you’re doing today?”

“Um, nothing special.” You glance at the window. “The weather is awful. I was actually wondering if you wanted to go grab a bite?” It feels like you’re inviting him on a date. It’s embarrassing. “Since it’s raining.” Now you’re repeating yourself. You’re glad he can’t see you blushing furiously as you keep rambling. “I mean, remember you told me you wanted to see more of Hawkins? I saw the weather and thought about this place. It’s a bit outside of town. If you don’t have anything planned.”

“Yeah, sure. Just need to finish working on some stuff. I can pick you up at seven.”

“Seven is perfect,” you say, your heart still hammering in your chest. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

You change clothes at least three times, unable to decide what to wear. You don't even know why you're making such a big deal out of it—it's not a date, just an outing between friends. Actually, you two aren't even that close. But don't dwell on that too much; what is the reason for your outing, anyway? Originally, it was to show Billy the rest of Hawkins. Dinner is part of that plan, but Benny's Burger isn't one of the places he mentioned, even though it's a bit more isolated. However, that didn't seem to bother him. This time, you decide to bring enough money to pay for both of you. It's the least you can do.

Despite anticipating this moment with secret enthusiasm, seven o'clock arrives faster than you'd like. You leave the house in the pouring rain to find Billy's Camaro idling in front of your trailer, its low rumble cutting through the night. You hurry to open the door and close your umbrella, trying not to let any water into the car. As you settle into the seat and turn to greet him, your breath catches. You try not to look too impressed by the sight of him as you fix your wet hair, but a quick glance is enough to get your heart racing. You’re increasingly convinced that this man has no physical flaws, and that thought destabilizes you. He’s wearing a white tank top under a black leather jacket, with blue jeans that fit like they were tailor-made for him. As he puts his hand on your seat and looks over his shoulder to back up, he manages to keep his cigarette firmly between his fingers, one hand on the steering wheel. You take the opportunity to steal a glance at him. The movement brings him closer, and the scent of his cologne reaches your nostrils, making your skin prickle. His long curls are perfectly styled, reminding you of a lion.

“I didn’t think you’d actually call.” he says as he shifts from reverse to first, heading toward the end of the trailer park. 

“Oh,” you say. “Why is that?”

“Dunno.” he chuckles, his long lashes brushing his cheekbones. “Maybe you were scared of me or something.”

His sentence moves something inside you. "Oh. Not at all,” you say, your voice carrying a hint of determination. You are determined to make him understand that you may be shy, but you are not a fragile little thing. "I'm not scared of you."

“You’re not?” his voice is like a low rumble, it burns through you and sets you on fire.

“Uh-huh.” your mouth feels dry, and you distract yourself by feeling the hot air coming out of the vent with your hands.

“Good.” 

When you walk into Benny's Burger, it's practically deserted. There's just a couple of old gentlemen. From the way they are dressed, they look like fishermen. It looks like they have recently ordered because there is only cutlery and two glasses of beer on their table. Benny Hammond comes to take your order and greets you warmly. He and your dad are good friends, they went to school together here in Hawkins. Billy orders a double burger and a large portion of fries, and you order a steak with a small portion of fries. You were afraid the evening would be punctuated by few words and awkward silences. Billy is not the biggest of talkers, but the feeling of uneasiness quickly vanishes as the night goes on. You tell him about your dad and Benny, recounting how your dad was born and raised in Hawkins. When you tell him about his travels, you linger and talk a lot about California. Billy is curious about what your dad did there for five years. Then you tell him how he went to Jamaica alone and risked his life several times but had a good time. Then Billy tells you how his group of friends in California had been very diverse, two of them being a Jamaican and a Filipino. He tells you how good their mothers' cooking was when he was invited to eat at their house. You are surprised how the conversation always manages to bounce back. 

Half an hour later, Billy has cleared his plate. You, on the other hand, are still struggling to finish your steak, so he finishes it for you. You comment in amazement that he eats like a horse, then immediately apologize, feeling your face flush with embarrassment. Billy laughs and tells you he does weight training five times a week. You feel like saying you've noticed, but luckily manage to stop yourself in time and avoid further embarrassment.

You insist on paying to make up from last time, but Billy refuses categorically. You feel guilty, but his stubbornness prevents you from doing anything else. When you leave the restaurant, it has stopped raining. The smell of rain rises from the asphalt of the car park. As you walk towards the parked Camaro, you cross your arms over your chest, suppressing a shiver. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Billy take off his jacket.

"No, don't take it off, I'm good, really." you tell him, already knowing what he’s doing.

“Here,” Billy drapes it over your shoulder anyway. The weight of a jacket and the smell of leather envelop you. You try not to show your surprise as his warm hand gently squeezes the back of your neck. “Just wrap it around yourself. Don’t wanna catch a cold.” 

His hand seems to leave an imprint on your skin. You didn’t know you would like his touch so much until now. The sound of zippo rips through the silence and your mind. Billy walks past you, the orange glow of a freshly lit cigarette is the only light in the evening darkness. He opens the driver’s door and bents inside, inserting the keys and fiddling with the radio. You lean your back against the side of the car, enveloped in the warmth of his jacket, still carrying the lingering heat from his body. You breathe through the collar of it, smelling the faint scent of his cologne. 

The gentle guitar strumming of ‘Landslide’ wafts through the air as Billy closes the door, windows down, and leans against the car, beside you. You turn towards him, your eyes dragging over his body covered only by his wifebeater. He takes a drag from his cigarette, the tip of it vibrating until it almost turns red. 

"You’re sure you're not cold?" you ask, daring to be a bit bolder and nudging his shoulder gently.

Billy nudges you back, mumbling around his cigarette. “Hey, I’m a tough guy.”

You softly shake your head at his answer, looking at the trees in front of you, forming a wall of darkness, a trickle of wind shakes them slightly in the breeze. “I love this song,” you say with a soft smile. Then you look at him. “I didn’t know you liked Fleetwood Mac”.

“What did you think I liked?” Billy asks after exhaling the smoke, taking the cigarette from his mouth.

“I don’t know,” you hesitate, hoping he doesn't misinterpret your words. “I thought you were more into metal. Just ‘cause I heard you playing it from your car sometimes.” you hastily add.

Billy hums in acknowledgment. “So you were watching me, huh?”

“No, it’s not that! You just, sometimes the music is very loud.” 

He laughs, and it’s such a pleasant sound. It makes your insides swirl. “S’alright. I do play my music very loud.” he flicks the cigarette on the ground, the glowing ashes extinguishing silently on the wet asphalt. “I listen to metal, yeah, but I like rock in general. Hard rock, folk rock,” he jerks his head to his right where the music comes from. 

You hum thoughtfully, tightening his jacket around you. “That’s nice. I think they’re among my favorite folk rock bands.

“Those guys?”

“Yes.” 

Billy nods his head. “They’re cool, yeah. What else do you like?”

You hum while thinking. “There’s lots. My dad likes all these rock bands, like Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and a bunch of others. I picked it up from him. He used to blast them in the house when I was little," you recall with a soft smile. "He's a big fan."

“Well, well, well.” Billy grins in appreciation, his smoldering eyes on you. “Didn’t know little miss was so cool.” 

You let out a small laugh, and put a strand of hair behind your ear with a shake of your head to do something with your hands. You thank the night for hiding how flustered you are. “I just…” 

“What else are you hiding?” he tilts his head toward you, the warming mood bringing him closer than before, his shoulder brushing against yours.

“Not much.” you laugh again, unable to meet his eyes. 

“Huh-huh,” he mumbles playfully, bringing the cigarette to his mouth. 

You switch the conversation on him, to shift the attention from you. “And how did you start listening to rock?” 

Billy initially stays quiet. At a certain point, you’re almost convinced he either didn’t hear you or doesn’t want to answer.

“My mom.” he finally says. You look at him, instantly feeling the shift in his mood. “She listened to all this folk stuff, like Joni Mitchell, Mamas and Papas, Bob Dylan. I remember hearing it play in the house since I was a toddler.” he muses, and for a moment seems lost in the memory, breathes a silent laugh through his nose. “She was a bit of a hippie.”  

You can imagine his mom dancing barefoot in the living room, him mirroring her movement with a smiling chubby face, his bright blue eyes looking up in adoration at her.  

“And my old man didn’t like that part of her one bit,” he says then, his voice turning acidic. He flicks his cigarette again. “You meet someone and expect them to change what they are for you. Kinda makes sense, huh?” 

Something in the way he talks about her suggests to you that her mother is part of his past. You don't know on what level, but surely the whole thing didn't end well. And that's one of the sensitive topics regarding his life in California. 

‘Dreams’ starts playing next, filling the last few seconds of silence. It makes you think about the vinyl of that album you bought in Chicago when you spent part of last summer at your grandparents’. It was the right before your mom left.

"I think it’s kind of cool. It's usually always dads who listen to that music,” you say gently in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

“Yeah, no.” Billy snorts. “Surely not mine. He thinks that’s the Devil’s music. Still into that conservative bullshit.”

“My grandma thinks the same,” you comment. “I had ‘Rumours’ on vinyl before.” you start, referring to the current song’s album. I bought it that summer when I visited them in Chicago. It got damaged shortly after buying it. I still think she broke it on purpose.

“Shit. That sucks.” 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “It’s my favorite one.”

“Do you still have your record player?”

“Yes. I have a few other vinyls too.”

As the two of you continue to talk about music, a topic you didn't think you'd be on the same tune on, the mood returns to a lighter one. Soon later, the rain starts falling again stopping you in the middle of your conversation and you both realize it got late. Billy crushes his unfinished cigarette with his boot and you get in the car.

“Thanks for paying tonight. Again,” you tell him sheepishly once on the drive back home. 

Billy slightly lowers the radio's volume until the guitar strums are just background noise, his eyes fixed on the road. “There’s lots of other ways to make it up to me, but I won’t let you pay. Sorry, sweetheart." 

His tone suggests he's not sorry at all. It almost sounds like it’s out of the question for him. You try to ignore how the nickname makes your heart flutter, refusing to dwell on its meaning.

“But why?” 

“Because,” he chuckles, probably amused by how you seem fixated on the question. “It’s just the way it works.”

“Doesn’t make sense,” you mumble quietly, burying half of your face in his big jacket still wrapped around you and suppressing a shiver. 

“Shit. Does it always rain in this shithole?” he squints his eyes a little bit as he lifts the lever to increase the windshield wiper's speed. The rain is now pelting the car more aggressively. 

“I think it’s because you’re used to California,” you say gently. 

There still are a few droplets of water on his naked arms and shoulders. However, he doesn’t seem to feel cold since he’s not shivering.

“Guess so,” he mutters. 

For the first time, you notice he has a tattoo on his shoulder. It’s a skull smoking a cigarette. You wonder when he got it done, what does it represent? 

Before you can stop, your mouth talks. Your voice is quiet, but it is still audible. “That’s a cool tattoo.”

He turns his head toward you, and for a moment he seems surprised. Then his face settles back into a composed expression, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. "Yeah, you like it?" he responds casually, you swear his tone betrays a touch of warmth.

“Mh-mh.” you nod, feeling comfortable enough to say what you really think next. “It suits who you are.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle under his breath. “What do you think that is?"

Maybe it’s the relentless thundering of the rain over you, maybe it’s the fact that it’s pitch dark or you’re slowly being accustomed to being around him. You feel a sense of comfort enveloping you. 

“I think… You’re tough on the outside, you always act distant from what surrounds you, like you don’t care about anything and anyone. But deep down, you’re kind-hearted and really gentle.” 

The only sound breaking the silence is the soft hum of the music and the harsh drumming of rain against the car. Your swallow seems thunderously loud in the quiet, but the collar of his jacket offers some solace. Glancing at him, you breathe in the scent of leather and him, focusing on his forearms—robust yet slender—then his hands gripping the steering wheel, long fingers lightly wrapped around it. You wonder what it would feel like to have his arms around you, his hands on your waist, neck, cheeks. Every thump of your heart against your ribcage feels hyper-aware.

“Like, incredibly kind and gentle,” you venture, sensing the weight of your words. It's why you try to cloak yourself in the armor of a rough exterior, a fortress formed by sharp cutting gazes, sharky smiles and skinned knuckles. You want to say more, but it feels too personal, too revealing. You know he wouldn't handle it well. It would make him feel vulnerable, prompting him to close off. You guess he’s hiding some things from himself and the world, afraid it would spill over and flood the fragile sanctuary of his soul. 

Billy chuckles softly, his tone light yet evasive. "You're painting me as a real softie, aren't you?" his words carry a playful edge, his gaze still fixed on the road ahead. His eyes won’t meet yours, though. There are a few seconds of silence before he speaks again. "Got it last year. The tattoo. Hurt like a bitch."

You notice his subtle attempt to divert the conversation. But you can’t blame him. You went a bit too hard. 

“I want to get one too. Someday,” you murmur. 

“Yeah?” he glances at you.”D’you have something in mind?” 

“Not really…I guess I’d have to think about it.”

“You should. It’s gonna be there forever. Unless you get it lasered off, which is a new thing. And that’s a whole other level of pain.”

Just to make you think about it makes you shiver. “Laser it…?”

“Yeah.”

Getting a tattoo is something you have to ponder for a long time indeed. And you’ve always had a penchant for changing your mind. Getting excited about ideas, projects, and it always seemed to work for a long time until you changed your mind. Or something happened and you consequently changed your vision of things. You’ve always been uncertain. Your life had a penchant for unexpected events and uncertainties as well.

“Maybe getting a tattoo is not for me,” you mumble. “I’m bad at making decisions. I feel like all of my life is going to be like this.”

“What do you mean?”

As the car slows down, you realize you’re already driving on Forrest Hill trail road.  

“I mean…” you sigh, uncertain whether to delve into what’s on your mind and risk exposing yourself. But Billy opened up tonight, so you feel compelled to do the same. It also feels kind of natural. “In my life, things always seem to take unexpected turns. Often in a bad way. I can never know what to expect. And I don’t like that.”

The car comes to a halt, and you find yourselves parked in front of your trailer.

“Well, I could tell you ‘That’s the beauty of it’ or some stupid shit like that. But huh…” he chuckles, shaking his head as he rattles the pack of cigarettes in his palm to extract one. “My life has been a shit show itself. So, I get it.”

“I’m really sorry,” you say softly. That’s all you can say, you can only imagine from the vague piece of information he gave you. 

Billy shrugs as if to brush it off. It’s so natural it looks rehearsed. You wish you could tell him it does matter, that he deserved to have a happy childhood, he deserves a happy life.

“I wish I could at least have a hint. Even if it’s just one piece of information. I don’t like all of this uncertainty,” you continue. You've known Billy long enough to understand he doesn’t appreciate pity, or even anything that remotely seems like pity. “I wish I could see my future. My grandma…” you stop yourself with an embarrassed laugh. “I know this is gonna sound stupid. It’s probably not true anyways. But I’ve always wanted to get my palm read. My grandma used to know how to do it.”

Met with silence, you feel the familiar burn of shame and regret welling up inside you. Why would you say that? He’s probably thinking you’re crazy for believing in this stuff.

“Wanna give it a shot?” 

You turn toward him in surprise. “You know how?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty good at it.” he shrugs, putting the pack of cigarettes in the compartment. Then places his cigarette behind his ear. “Come on.” he holds his palm in invitation. You place your hand in his, palm facing up. 

“Alright,” he begins, tracing a line with his fingertip, “This here, is your headline. It’s curved and wavy, which means you’re creative and intuitive. You think outside the box, not afraid to follow your own path.”

You watch his face, his concentration as he reads your lines. “And this one. Huh. Oh yeah. See, your lifeline is strong and deep,” he continues, his voice a low rumble. “That means you’re full of energy, and vitality. You’ve got resilience, no matter what life throws at you.”

He shifts his focus to another line, “An this, here, this is your fate line. Not everyone has one. Suggests you’ve got a purpose, something you’re meant to do, and it’ll shape your life significantly. Basically, your destiny is in your hands.”

His thumb moves lightly over your palm, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Your skin is soft. How's it so soft all the time?” he almost mutters to himself. “Means you’re sensitive, maybe a bit sheltered. Shows you’re not letting anyone in. But it’s not a bad thing, you know what I mean?”

You could listen to his voice forever. It’s like a low melody, resonating deep within you.

“How do you know all this?” you breathe, your eyes studying his face. 

“Told you my mom was a hippie. She was into all of this stuff. Taught me how to do it. Shit”, he chuckles. “...haven’t done that since I was ten probably.”

Finally, he traces the heart line, deep and prominent. “And this,” he says, rubbing his finger across a line that nearly runs the full width of your palm. “is your heart line. It runs deep, straight across. It means you feel things intensely. You love deeply, but you also hurt deeply. See this?” he presses his thumb into the little fleshy space between the first and middle fingers, then meets your eyes. “When it curves outward like this, it means you’re willing to give a lot to the other person. Like, you give all of you.”

You are caught between the urge to look away from him and hold his gaze. His tourmaline eyes are two deep pools in which you swear you can lose yourself.

“I uh, we’ll see about that.” you manage to say. “I haven’t had anything like that before.”

“Haven’t had a boyfriend yet?”

A small laugh escapes your lips at your own embarrassment. His own slightly twitch too. “God, no. I haven't exactly been in the game.”

“So nada, huh?”

One of his thumbs caresses your palm, the other the skin of the inside of your wrist, drawing circles. It sends tingling along your body. A pleasant shiver that makes your whole body aware, a hot sensation in the pit of your stomach, all your nerves rising. You can feel something hanging in the air, a palpable tension, but you also wonder if it's just your imagination running wild. Being inexperienced as you are, perhaps it’s all in your head, and all of this is fueled by the undeniable attraction you feel toward him. Then Billy jerks his chin toward your right.

“Looks like your dad is waiting for you.” 

You follow the direction he’s pointing at. Indeed, the little light outside the trailer is lit. Your dad is peering at the small window on the door, you can see him munching a pickle in the meantime. As you’ve been burned, you quickly retract your hand from his.

You are grateful to your dad for entering the picture and getting you out of this situation. With him looking at both of you, you can do little other than simply greet Billy without a second thought. Had he not been there, you would surely have stumbled over your words.

“Oh, uhm. Sorry about that.” you chew at your bottom lip before looking back at Billy, an apologetic expression on your face. It’s embarrassing. “He was probably worried, he does that when I come back late. Oh,” you suddenly remember you’re still wearing his jacket, so you quickly take it off. “Here. Thank you. I’ll see you at school?”

Billy takes the jacket. “Yeah. See you there. Sleep tight.” 

You want to ask him if another hangout is on the program, but you don’t wanna press too much, so you hurry inside the trailer with your heart a little lighter and a thousand questions. In your bed, you keep replaying the hours spent with him unable to fall asleep. His change of tone and attitude when he talks about his parents lingers in the back of your mind. You don't know his story in depth, but you are increasingly convinced that he and you share more than you think.

[futchrina]

1. Where's the doctor???

"So as I was saying , Ralph Lauren really got some great polos. You see the one I am wearing right now, it's Ralph Lauren as well. Don't take me for a blowhard but this one is custom made and.....". Karina forced a smile towards the man sat in front of her going on about some polos she was least interested in.

"So is it all a lie?" , she thought bitterly. Those love stories they show in dramas, those forever lasting love dramas she has seen since she was a child. She had dreamt for a lot of things. A successful career in the kpop industry, a loving and supportive family and some friends to whom she can share whatever she wants.

But among those dreams, there was also one where she yearned for a loving partner. Someone with whom she would share all her childhood shenanigans, her secrets, her fears, her tears, her happiness and everything she owns. Someone with whom she would grow old.

"Karina, are you listening?", the man said.

"Yeah, sorry I zoned out. What were you saying?" , she apologized.

"I was saying since the date went so well, would you like to continue our conversation in my apartment? " . Karina internally cringed and felt disgusted by the man's audacity. She wanted to slap the smirk out of his annoying face but she had a reputation to maintain.

"I'm sorry but I don't think we are a good match. Thank you for the dinner but I need to leave now. "

Karina left the restaurant irrespective of the man's requests for another date and dialed her manager's contact asking him to pick her up.

"I guess it really is all a lie"

"Move!!!!!!! "

Karina looked towards the direction from where the sound came. Her eyes widened in horror when saw a bike coming towards her speedily.

"the area is still very sensitive as the wound hasn't healed completely. So I would suggest a complete bed rest for 2-3 months. A visit after a month would also be appreciated so that I can monitor the healing process." Y/N said to the woman accompanied by her what she assumed to her husband. The couple nodded their heads in acceptance and thanked their way out. The doctor batted her eyes at the couple sharing a loving kiss in relief and huffed internally. She felt disgusted. It wasn't like she hated them or had anything against them. She just hated the fact that there were people who still believed in love.

Her family and friends did everything they could to make her think otherwise. That love really existed. But she was at last a doctor. Someone who believed in practicality rather than on something which existed only in fairy tales and some k-dramas which cringed her to no limits. Her belief only strengthened last year when her parents got divorced. Her parents who were together since their college days and were deeply in love with each other.

"It was never real and it will never be. They who still believe will realise it soon."

The young doctor was deep in thoughts when she heard a loud voice from the reception area. She hurriedly went outside to see the matter when she heard another scream.

"Where's the doctor"???

"What's the matter?" Y/N asked the man sternly. Karina, who was trying to calm down her manager, looked towards the doctor.

" I'm really sorry doctor. It's just ......". She couldn't speak further. Karina just couldn't. She didn't realise what was happening when she suddenly felt it. Her heart suddenly increased its pace and was beating rapidly in her rib cage. She felt the blood rushing towards her cheeks turning them crimson red and found herself incapable to speak anything in front of the beautiful doctor.

"Maybe it's true!"

[scoonsalicious]

6.3 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language.

Word Count: 500

Previously On...: Lily tricked Bucky into going on a picnic date; they made plans for a "friend date" for later that evening.

A/N: Sorry this is late- I tried something new with the texts, but it took too long, so I don't know if I'll do it again, lol. Reminder: My break is starting today, so there will be no new updates until Thursday, May 23rd. I'm hoping to get a ton of writing done, but I won't leave you hanging for content, I promise!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He was really hoping his plans with Lily would take his mind off of his fuckup with Major. He must have thought about calling her about seventy five thousand times, but each time he picked up his phone to dial her number, he saw her shrug in his mind’s eye when he asked if he could call her later. Lily may have been wrong about the reasoning, but what if she had been right about the gist of it– If Major really wanted him to call her, wouldn’t she have said so? It was driving Bucky crazy.

So, he agreed to a night out with Lily as a distraction. After their impromptu picnic, he’d walked her back to her car and they’d set back off to the Compound, where Bucky napped and took a shower. He was just deciding what to wear to dinner in a few hours when a text came through on his phone. He almost did a double take when he saw it was from Major.

Sugar: Can we talk?

Bucky’s heart sped up at the sight of her words. She wanted to talk. This was good, right? 

Bucky bit his lip. Lily would understand if he had to cancel, right? He’d explained to her how much he liked Major, how upset he was when he thought he’d blown it with her. She’d get why it was so important for him to meet with Major tonight. They could do a raincheck on their friend-date.

Okay, she was putting the ball in his court. Bucky wracked his brain, trying to come up with an idea that would be spontaneous, but also romantic, so he could show her that he was serious about her, about making this thing between them work. An idea struck him suddenly, and though it wasn’t very original of him, all things considered, it was perfect. Absolutely perfect. He was just going to need a few hours to get everything ready. Glancing at his phone, he realized he needed to get in gear; he didn’t have a lot of time, and there were things to do.

>> DROPPED A PIN

>> Meet me here at 7:30pm.

A few hours later, Bucky was doing his final set up preparations. He checked his phone– Major should be arriving any minute, and if he said he didn’t have butterflies in his stomach, he’d be lying. He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone buzzed with an incoming text, but it was just from Lily.

Shit. In his haste to get everything prepared for Major, Bucky had completely forgotten he’d made dinner plans with Lily. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was a long moment before the three dots appeared on his screen, indicating Lily was typing.

Bucky smiled at his phone, not sure why he had been so nervous about telling Lily he was dating Major in the first place. 

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

You know I had seen some headcanons about ghostflower as parents, and here is a bit of my take on that.

Miles is the responsible dad, Gwen is the fun mom.

And that assumption has entirely to do with this.

Yep, I think the roles would be reversed for them, hear me out.

Miles was raised by loving and present parents, they have room for improvement but I don't doubt that Jeff and Rio knew how to establish healthy boundaries, knew when to be strict and when to be more permissive, and are all overall supportive, amazing parents.

Now, the thing about Gwen's parents-

Mom we know nothing, Gwen's mom is never mentioned in the spider-verse movies and again, I haven't read all of her comics, but if that woman was mentioned I don't remember. I normally assume she died when Gwen was very young so she doesn't have too many memories of her.

This leaves us with George.

So, I don't think George is the worst, I have my issues and I would scream at him until he goes deaf- but you can see at the end that he loves Gwen, and while he doesn't know what he is doing, he is trying.

We haven't seen much of him, but what did I notice?

He is not good with emotional intelligence; he doesn't realize that telling Gwen how the case is doing will not make her feel better (and it has to be a while since Peter died, he should know this by now.) Clearly doesn't know what to say to cheer her up. Tries to talk about his job and his duty when he doesn't know how to proceed.

And then he leaves because there was an emergency with the police; and is obvious this is not a rare occurrence. As someone who was basically raised by a single parent doing a lot of hours at work, I can tell you by this interaction that Gwen probably spend hours or entire nights alone.

So, how does translate to their parent styles?

Miles would feel a lot more confident in his role as a parent, he would definitely read a lot of books and would have his parents on speed dial; but Miles he is also a natural. He would thinking back on how his parents raise him, looking back in their decisions and understanding where they are coming from, and overall end up finding a middle point between how he grew up, and what he thinks is right for him and his family.

I will share what he does when the kids are older while sharing Gwen's approach.

Gwen on the other hand? Extremely anxious, Miles needed to reassure her a lot specially at the beginning. She can barely remember her mom, and her dad wasn't the most present. While I think by this point the relationship between her and Miles's parents would be better, I think part of her would also be afraid looking incompetent in comparison to Rio.

Later when the kids are older, Gwen defaults more to let the kids play and do things that they probably shouldn't "Is just one day/night," "Oh when I was their age I was trying to imitate the gymnasts on the TV, at least they are a lot more resistant that I was!" and "Hmmm, maybe this is something we should ask your father too."

Gwen's laxer approach was thanks to not being heavily supervised and not realizing when is too much at times, or thinking these is one of those things kids should learn and it would be fine.

Thanks to this, Miles is normally the one who needs to more strict and reasonable. "No, we can't have popcorn and ice cream for dinner, it doesn't matter if is Friday and summer is starting"; "I DON'T CARE IF YOU CAN HANDLE FALLING 6 FEET TO THE GROUND, YOU ARE NOT PRACTISING TIGHT ROPE!" and "I told you no, and don't go asking your mother just so she can say yes, I will find out."

Miles is still, the one parent to go when the kids are sad, upset or need to be hear out. While he may be stricter of the two and tries to stop anything that he deems too far; he knows the best how to de-escalate a situation and see reason.

Gwen while a lot of times doesn't know what to do, their kids always go to her when they just need a hug and be comforted. While Gwen a lot of times doesn't know what to say to make things better, or what advice to give; she never shy's away from telling her kids that sometimes they will make mistakes, and she would do too, but that never means they deserve any less love or compassion; no matter how hard the world is or the mistakes they make, Gwen promises to be there at any point, and that Miles and her would never stop loving them.

There is a lot of adjustments and discussions, but they balance it out.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine helping Benn get away to see a 'friend'

Benn: *trying to slip off the ship during dinner for the third night in a row*

Shanks: *notices he's gone almost immediately* Where's Beck?

Lucky Roux: *counting the money Benn bribed him with to keep quiet* I dunno

Shanks: *Runs out on deck to find Benn trying to sneak over the side of the bot* Where we going?

Benn: we aren't going anywhere, I'm going to port by myself.

Shanks: You're leaving the crew! *Starts to tear up*

The crew: *piles out when they hear Shanks' caterwauling* You're leaving! Without even saying goodbye!

Benn: I'm just leaving for the night, not forever...*realizes no one is listening to him* oh my gods, FINE! Fine, I'm not going anywhere.

Crew: *cheers as they herd Benn back into the mess hall*

An hour later

Benn: *finally manages to claw his way out of the impromptu game night to take a breather out on deck*

You: *watches him lean on the railing, trying to light night cigarette* Need a light?

Benn: *jumps in surprise and drops his lighter into the bay* You scared the shit outta me!

You: *hands him your lighter and leans against the railing*, so why were you trying to sneak off?

Benn: what's it to you?

You: maybe I could help if you have a good reason.

Benn: I wanted to go see a friend I always hook up with when we make port here. She knows I'm a pirate, but not what crew I'm apart of.

You: and you don't want us to meet her? Are you shamed of us?

Benn: *no hesitation* very...Nah, nah, it's just she's a sweet gal and rather timid.

You: and you think she'll be scared off when she finds out you're the emotional support idiot to one of the four emperors?

Benn: yes...Wait, I'm no one's emotional support idiot.

You: In order to stop Shanks from pouting you had to let him curl up in your lap.

Benn: so?

You: You looked like you were burping him, like a baby, when he's a whole ass grown man.

Benn: *purses his lips because he knows you're right, so he elects not to respond*

You: Anyway, you want help sneaking out?

Benn: No offense rookie, but I don't think you can help me. They're a group of seasoned pirates, and you.... You've only been in this life for what? Three years?

You: You're forgetting that they're also just a bunch of dudes who are children at heart.

Benn: what are you getting at?

You: What I'm saying is sneaking out will cost you.

Benn: how much?

You: Take me shopping tomorrow and we'll find out.

The next night

Benn: There's no way this is gonna work.

You: Boys! Benn bought you some stuff! *Presents them with a 10,000 + piece Lego set of the Red Force (I'm making Legos cannon for a plot device), a dial set of Uta's newest album, and twenty barrels of booze*

The Crew: *move like a wave, taking up the gifts*

Shanks: What brought this on?

Benn: Just thought we could use a new activity for tonight, you've all been working so hard lately and all.

Thirty minutes later

The crew: *absorbed in sorting Lego pieces and reading the instruction manual*

Benn: *also absorbed*

You: *elbows him* aren't you trying to get laid?

Benn: but Legos.

You: You really gonna pick Legos over pussy?

Benn: but what if they finish it without me?

You: I'll make it have an accident, so they have to start all over. Now get out of here.

Benn: I can't believe that your plan worked.

You: yeah yeah, get outta here before they notice you're gone

Benn: You're the best *kisses your forehead and flings himself off the side of the ship*

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List of Up-and-coming works

[darkseidex]

How Austin Met His Girl

LA, the land of hopes, dreams, and ridiculously overpriced coffee, was a place Luella had grown to love; or at least that was what she kept telling herself right now. The scent of motor oil and gasoline filled her senses, the red light seemed to taunt her, and the drivers at the back tailing her did nothing to ease her temper. She got this for driving at five p.m., otherwise known as hell hour. Her hand remained on the steering wheel of her Dodge Challenger, the privacy glass doing a remarkable job at keeping her concealed.

She groaned as she fought the urge to hit a U and return to her home. She sighed as she dialled Callum's number, letting the Brit know she'd be a bit late, hoping he wouldn't chew her out because he did tell her about the traffic beforehand. However, her being her, she thought she could outsmart it ( she couldn't).

The familiar dial tone sounded before resting him on her empty passenger seat as she lightly pressed on the acceleration to move forward.

"You're late, Lu," Callum's clipped British accent came through the speaker. She rolled her eyes, muttering, "No kidding."

"You know, the point of telling you about traffic was so you'd avoid it, not dive in headfirst," he quipped.

"Look, I've got it handled, okay?" she shot back, her tone sharper than intended. The red light finally flickered to green, and she eased the car forward, the rumble of the Challenger's engine almost soothing.

"Handled," Callum repeated with a snort. "The same way you handled that detour last month and ended up halfway to San Diego?"

"That was one time," she grumbled, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

The faint sound of mumbling came from Callum's end, followed by the rustling of what sounded like papers. She sighed, the faint feeling of guilt etching at her soul. The Boys in the Boat—his latest project.

Callum had poured his blood, sweat, and tears into it, meticulously crafting every detail. She'd promised to go see it with him, swearing she wouldn't flake this time. But here she was, stuck in traffic with the clock ticking and a shadowy SUV breathing down her bumper.

"Lu?" Callum's voice brought her back, sharper now, cutting through her spiralling thoughts.

"I'm still here," she said quickly.

"Good. Just focus on getting here in one piece, yeah? We'll deal with the rest when you arrive."

Her grip tightened on the wheel. The SUV behind her wasn't letting up, inching closer each time she tapped her brakes. She tried to shake the thought of what Callum would say if she told him she was ditching him again. Worse than that, she hated the thought of him sitting in an empty theatre seat, watching the dream he worked so hard for come to life without her.

"Dinner on me?" she offered, hoping to soothe both her guilt and her nerves.

There was a pause, then a soft laugh from Callum. "Bribery now, is it?"

"Call it an apology in advance," she replied, easing her grip on the wheel as the SUV pulled ahead and merged into another lane. For a moment, she felt relief, though her eyes lingered on it disappearing into the distance. "I owe you for dragging me out of my cave anyway." Callum snorted, "I'd argue you need to spend more time there; you're never home for more than a month."

Luella shrugged; it was true, ever since interstellar she'd been booked and busy for as long as she could remember, and truthfully ever since she'd graduated she'd felt like she'd been able to get more time at home, more time to enjoy the home she'd bought and fill it with flowers, charms and trinkets; to make it her own. They'd just wrapped Barbie and the second season of House of The Dragon; it was roughly a year of back-to-back filming with very little time off, but it'd pay off; it always did.

"You owe me more than dinner, Lu," he said, though his tone had lightened. "But I'll take it. I'll even let you pick the place this time, as long as it's not that dodgy taco truck you keep swearing by."

"Hey, those tacos are life-changing," she retorted, her smile returning despite herself.

"Life-ending, more like," he countered, and she could practically see the smirk tugging at his lips. Her pulse quickened as she caught the glint of the SUV's tinted windows in her side mirror. "Maybe you just have a weak stomach," she said, forcing a casual tone. "Can't blame you; you're used to British food, I guess."

Callum's laughter died down at her quip, and she could feel him roll his eyes. "Touché," he said dryly, though there was still a trace of amusement in his voice. "But you're dodging the fact that you've got shitty taste when it comes to street food."

"Please," Luella shot back, navigating past a merging car. "My taste is impeccable; thank you very much. I'll have you know I've never gotten sick from those tacos."

"Yet," he emphasised, drawing out the word. "Give it time."

"So," she started, trying to redirect her thoughts, "have you gotten the script for Masters of the Air yet?"

There was a beat of silence, and then Callum replied, his tone carrying a hint of excitement, "I have. Just came in last week."

Her grip on the wheel loosened slightly, her smile widening. "Finally! It's been sitting on my desk for days, and I've been dying to dive in, but I've barely had the time. You've read it, right?"

Callum continued, his tone now laced with playful intrigue, "I invited a castmate to the screening tonight Austin Butler, you know, from Elvis?"

"Elvis, as in the biopic? The one that gained all that traction?" She asked him, and he heard his hum of confirmation.

Luella wracked her brain for the familiar film; it'd been on her watch list for way too long, gathering digital dust as its number one place changed to seventh within the next month. She'd meant to watch it; truly she had, but she'd gotten another script dropped into her lap, which soon consumed her life and became her bread and butter. When that'd ended, Murphy, her Daschund, had gotten a minor cold that'd worried her sick, and that took up a solid week of her time and bonus to ensure he was alright.

Looking through her rearview window, she noted the black SUV still hot on her tail; unease flowed through her veins as she turned off the road and opted for the longer route, adding fifteen minutes to her journey, but she didn't mind; there was less traffic this way, and she'd gotten rid of the heebie-jeebies that'd crept up her spine at the sight of the blacked-out vehicle with no number plates

"Austin Butler, huh?" she said flatly, her mind already shifting back to the SUV as she moved further away from it. Another star in the endless revolving door of Hollywood's elite. It wasn't that she didn't respect his craft—she did—but the novelty of meeting 'big names' had worn off years ago. If anything, she'd rather be home with Murphy right now, pulling his small body into her bed and forcing the disgruntled dog into her embrace.

"Yeah," Callum replied, the amusement in his voice clear. "He's a great guy, easy to talk to. He's really into the project, and he was in town, so I figured, why not?"

Luella hummed and grinned, "And here I thought I was your only American friend."

Callum laughed, the sound light and teasing. "You are my favorite American, don't worry. But Austin's a good guy. We got along pretty well when we first met, and, well, I thought it'd be nice to have him there tonight. Plus, he might be interested in some of the upcoming projects we're working on... and he's single."

Luella groaned as she made a left turn and got closer to her destination; sure, she'd broken a few speed limits, but she'd pay for those later. "You're not pimping me out to this man, and vice versa. What happened to me embracing my single era? Y'know, being happily unattached?" She glanced at the empty passenger seat. "I thought you supported that."

"Oh, I do, believe me, however, your counterparts are a bit concerned that your commitment issues are-"

"Commitment issues?"

Callum sighed. Oh, here they go.

"Yes, Luella, commitment issues," Callum said, his voice laced with the kind of patience that always felt condescending. "You've had, what, three dates in the last year? And you ghosted two of them before dessert."

"First of all," Luella shot back, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, "that second one was an accident. He talked about his crypto portfolio for thirty minutes. Thirty minutes, Cal. I had to fake a phone call just to escape."

Callum chuckled. "And the first one?"

"That was..." She trailed off, searching for a reasonable excuse. "Okay, fine, maybe I wasn't feeling it. But that doesn't mean I have issues. It just means I have standards."

"Standards so high even Everest looks up at them," Callum teased.

Luella rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips. She navigated through a roundabout, her thoughts briefly flickering to the SUV that had been tailing her. Even though it was gone, she couldn't shake the unease it had left behind.

"Look, I'm fine on my own. I've got Murphy, a solid Netflix queue, a rose, and enough wine to survive a minor apocalypse. What more could a girl want?"

"Oh, I don't know," Callum said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe companionship? Someone to share those tacos with before they kill you?"

"You're so funny, Callum," she deadpanned, pulling into the venue's parking lot at last. Her Challenger growled as she shifted into park. "Anyway, I'm here. You can stop playing Dr. Phil now."

"You brought it up," he countered. "But fine, I'll drop it. For now. Just be nice to Austin, alright? He's a good guy. Not everyone in this business is an egotistical nightmare."

"I'm always nice," Luella said, grabbing her bag from the passenger seat.

"Debatable," Callum replied.

Looking into the mirror, she reapplied an even coat of her gloss before checking her hair and giving herself a once over before picking up the phone, ending the call and switching off her phone. Finally, the black SUV that'd been tailing her pulled up, and on sync, their cameras rolled down, and the familiar shuttering of cameras was heard. With a roll of her eyes, she met the eyes of the cinema attendant and gave her a gentle smile as she guided her out of the public eye and into the warmth of the cinema.

With a gentle smile, she accepted their hand and walked into the space, the smooth sound of jazz filling her senses as she grabbed a glass of wine off one of the servers trays, sooting him a small 'thank you as she was walked into the cinema, thankfully she wasn't too late, but the pitch blackness would prove to be a challenge, she took the hand of the server as they guided her to one of the top boxes where Callum would be waiting.

She adjusted her baggy jeans with her free hand as she made her way to them, finally, her eyes caught those of the dark-haired Brit.

...

Austin Butler was just a man. Don't get him wrong, but he was still just a man. After his breakup, he never truly shied away from his meaningless hookup now and again, eachrve a purpose to blow off steam get into character and get out of character. He'd never truly thought of entertaining someone for longer than that.

His three-month-long friend, Callum, had invited him to his newer movie showing and he was in town, so he figured, why not? A quiet evening at the cinema beat spending another night scrolling through scripts and nursing a half-empty whiskey glass. He wasn't expecting much—just a chance to unwind and offer Callum some support. What he didn't expect, however, was her.

Austin leaned back in his seat, the quiet hum of conversation around him doing little to break through his thoughts. He wasn't expecting much tonight—Callum's movie was sure to be good, but these industry events were more obligation than excitement. He scanned the darkened theater, his gaze briefly flickering to the other attendees. Familiar faces, polished smiles, the usual.

Then she walked in.

At first, it was just the faint click of her heels on the carpeted floor, barely audible over the smooth jazz playing in the background. He turned his head casually, expecting yet another well-dressed figure blending into the crowd. Instead, his gaze landed on a woman who somehow seemed completely out of place and yet utterly commanding.

Luella.

Callum had mentioned her once or twice, but always in passing, like a footnote in his usually animated stories. A force to be reckoned with, he'd said. Austin hadn't thought much of it at the time.

Now, seeing her, he understood.

She moved with a kind of quiet determination, her bag slung over one shoulder, her other hand tugging at the hem of her baggy jeans as if she didn't care to fit into the glamorized mold everyone else seemed so eager to embody. Her hair caught the faint glow of the overhead lights as she followed the attendant to the upper-level seating. There was no effort to put on airs, no false pretense. Just... her.

And then she stumbled.

It wasn't dramatic—just a slight misstep as she climbed the last stair. Austin didn't even think. He stood, steadying her with a light touch on her elbow before the moment could tip into embarrassment.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice low enough not to draw attention.

She looked up at him then, her gaze locking with his for the first time.

"Yeah," she murmured, brushing abraid out of her face. "Thanks."

Her voice was soft but carried an undertone of something unspoken—like she wasn't used to needing help but appreciated it nonetheless.

"Austin," he said, introducing himself as he released her arm.

"Luella," she replied, a polite but distant smile tugging at her lips.

He offered his hand, and for a moment, she hesitated, her gaze flickering down to it before slipping hers into his. Her grip was firm, her skin warm against his.

"Callum's been hyping you up," he said as they made their way to the seats.

Her laugh was quiet but genuine. "That sounds like him. I'm not sure what there is to hype, though."

He arched an eyebrow as they settled into their seats. "Maybe he just knows good company when he sees it."

Luella didn't respond immediately, her attention seemingly caught by the faint flicker of the movie starting on the screen. But there was a small smile playing on her lips, one she didn't bother hiding.

Austin leaned back, his focus shifting between the film and the woman sitting beside him. She didn't make small talk, didn't force conversation to fill the silence. Instead, she seemed content to simply be, her presence quietly magnetic in a way he hadn't expected

[f1swiftiee]

I Promise - CL16

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x model!reader

a/n: this is my first time writing on tumblr, so let me know what you think!! also, this is not proofread, so feel free to message me if you find anything! enjoy!!

You were going to be gone for a week for a photo shoot with Vogue. This meant that you were going to miss a whole week of Charles's summer break. You tried to tell him that you were sorry and would make sure to call him, but he seemed to brush you off. This was unusual, as he would normally at least have some sort of reaction. As you were preparing to leave that morning, Charles seemed very eager to help you pack up and get out of the house. This was also strange, but you decided to brush it off. You had started to see over the past few weeks that Charles had begun to be more distant. You thought it was due to stress from work, but now you were starting to suspect that something else was going on. A few weeks prior, you had told him to plan a dinner reservation for your two-year anniversary, but when the day arrived, he seemed to have completely forgotten. Another time, when you surprised him at a race, he didn't seem too excited to see you. Sure, he smiled at you from time to time, but he seemed to be trying to avoid you the whole time you were there.

Sitting on the plane hours later, you awoke to your phone buzzing nonstop. You checked, and to your surprise, you saw a news article heading, "F1 Driver, Charles Leclerc, Seen With Mystery Girl on Yacht Who Does Not Appear To Be Y/N". At that moment, everything made sense. He had been seeing someone else. With tears in your eyes, you continued to read other articles about this strange mystery girl. You thought she looked familiar, but you couldn't quite figure out where you had seen her before. With shaking hands, you dialed his number on your phone. You clicked the call button, but it went straight to voicemail. You tried calling him again, but you received no answer. Of course, there was no cell service 30,000 feet in the air. You put your phone down and tried to distract yourself for the rest of the plane ride but ended up spiraling down your thoughts. Two full years with the man you thought was going to be your forever, gone. You thought of the countless times Charles had told you about how you two were going to get married, have two kids, and adopt another dog to keep Leo company. All of it was gone. Surely this couldn't be real. A few minutes later, the pilot announced that he would begin descending the plane.

When the plane landed, you rushed to get off the plane and ordered an uber to your hotel. When you arrived in your room, you decided to text Charles.

Of course, he was making up another excuse. This wasn't the first time, as he had done this many times in the past few weeks. He couldn't be in a meeting because his summer break had just started. The following week flew by, and before you knew it, you were turning the handle to your shared apartment. You walked in to find Charles sitting on the couch texting someone on the phone, with a huge grin on his face. He quickly sent another message, shut off his phone, and turned towards you. "Ma chérie! Didn't expect you to be home this early!" "Yeah, I caught the earliest flight here this morning. And just so you know, I saw the news articles about you." "What articles?" "Don't play dumb with me right now Charles. I know you're cheating." "What? No! She's just a friend! It's Alex, you've met her countless times! I was hanging out with her because her boyfriend broke up with her, and she said she needed something to take her mind off of it. I was just being a good friend!" "Okay then, care to explain these pictures? They don't look too 'friendly' to me!" You pulled out your phone and showed him the pictures you had screenshotted from the articles you had read.

"Okay, okay! Maybe I was being a little more than friendly, but it didn't mean anything, I promise!" "No Charles! You don't get it! You can't just go out with another girl whem I'm gone and expect me to be totally fine with it! We're done, and I'm leaving! Don't try to contact me." And with that, you went into your shared bedroom, grabbed a suitcase, and shoved most of your belongings into it. You left as quickly as you had come, and you texted your friend, who'd agreed to let you come stay with her. You blocked Charles on all social media platforms, which caused fans to create theories. For the time being, you couldn't deal with that, so you spent most of your time off your phone.

A month later, while you were home alone, you heard a knock at your door. You thought it was your friend, who had come home early from visiting her family, so you had rushed to open it. To your surprise, you saw Charles, stumbling around with very noticeable eye bags, and you could smell the alcohol reeking from his breath. You fought the instinct to slam the door in his face and decided to hear him out. "Charles? It's 12AM - what are you doing here? Wait, how did you figure out I was here?" "Ma chérie, please. Give me another chance. I messed up, and I realized you are the one I need. The one I love. Please, I love you, and I will do anything to prove it to you." "Charles, are you drunk? If you are, then I'll talk to you when you're sober." "No, please don't make me leave. Please let me inside." You looked at him with sorrow and hesitantly agreed to let him inside. Charles stumbled in and soon fell asleep on the couch. You didn't have to worry about your friend for the time being, as she was supposed to be back in a week. However, you had no idea how to explain it to her whenever she got back. You went back to your room and got ready for bed.

The sun shone in through the blinds inside the guest bedroom, and you got out of bed to get ready. You walked out of the bathroom after getting ready and saw Charles standing in the kitchen eating something. You had completely forgotten about what had happened last night. "Charles?" you called out. "Oh, hey! I made you some pancakes with the stuff I found." "Thanks, Charles, but listen, we need to sit down and have a conversation about y'know, last night." "About that, I'm sorry for showing up so abruptly. I was at the bar, and the drinks were getting to me and then I ended up here. It was all a mistake." "So you didn't mean anything you said about wanting to try again?" "Yeah... uh, no. I- it all happened really fast. One moment I was with Carlos at the bar and the next thing I knew I was here. I know you're still upset with me, but please, give me a second chance. Let me prove to you that I can be better." Charles appeared sincere, you could see it in his eyes, as they started to water. "Charles, I-I don't know, everything is still so fresh. I don't know if I can just forgive you like that. Yes, I still love you, but I don't know if I'm ready to try again yet." The truth was, you had missed him more than anything. Yes, he had hurt you and had broken and shattered your heart into a million pieces, but you still loved him. "Please, ma belle, I'll do anything." "Charles shut up." After saying this, you walked over to him and tiptoed to kiss him. He didn't understand at first, but he began reciprocating after a few moments. "I missed you, Charles. Promise to not break my heart again?" "I promise."

a/n: the end! i hope you all enjoyed! let me know if i should turn this into a series!! thanks for reading!

[musings-of-a-college-dork]

Oh, Pretty Woman...

Steve Harrington x Fem!Henderson!Reader

Word count: roughly 5.5K

Y/N Henderson has been away from Hawkins for a while…but she’s come home only to realize her long held feelings for Steve Harrington. So when he invites her over for their usual dinner making hang out, things play out a bit differently than usual. 

Warnings: NSFW (mdni), terms of endearment, fluffy Steve, slight season 3 spoiler (Robin has a partner), one OC (Jude), very fluffy smut, watching of Pretty Woman, not proof read.

Author’s note: Ok this has been a long time coming BUT I wanted to make sure it was everything I wanted it to be before posting! Enjoy some very fluffy Steve smut!  

Y/N had been pacing back and forth all afternoon. She was overthinking this. She was totally overthinking this.

“It’s just movie night and dinner,” she said aloud as she help up her outfit options, “Like you used to do…Stop being so…ugh.” Finally, she realized there was only one thing to fix this. She walked over, picked up her phone, and dialed the number she knew by heart. 

“Hello, this is Jude?”

“Hey, it’s Y/N,” Y/N said as she flopped down onto her bed, knowing they would set her straight if she was spinning out about this and not seeing it for what it was. 

“Holy shit what’s wrong?” They sat on their bed, hearing their friend’s heart beat practically echo through the phone.

“Nothing ... .ok um…” Y/N tried to think of how to start this, “You know Steve and I make dinner together whenever I’m visiting town?” 

“Oh my god,” Jude sat back on their bed. “Yes? Are you seeing him?” Jude’s brows were raised as Robin came in to water the plants in their bedroom. “Seeing Steve I mean.” They whispered to no avail, because Robin heard everything.

“Steve?” She asked. Jude motioned for them to be quiet.

“Oh god is Robin there?” Y/N asked as she could hear another voice, wanting to crawl up in a hole because if Robin knew she was overreacting she was totally gonna tell Steve.

“Hang on,” They tried to comfort Y/N. “Robin, honey, I need a moment.”

“No, no it’s fine as long as she swears not to mention this to Steve, ever,” Y/N said, emphasis on the ever. 

“No,” Jude said. “Robin, you know I love you. But I need a moment with my sister.” Robin nodded, ruffling Jude’s hair as she walked out of their tiny bedroom, closing the door. “Tell me.”

“Ok so Steve invited me over to do like dinner and stuff which we do a lot when I’m home since he can’t cook, well he couldn’t cook when we started,” Y/N rambled, “He’s actually really good now when he tries-”

“Okay Y/N, sweetie, get to the meat.” Jude was waiting with baited breath to hear what she said.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N finally admitted, “To go over. I’m nervous.” 

“And….is this… a new thing? You said you’ve been going over for a while now.”

“Yeah the nerves are new,” Y/N said with a sigh as she moved to look at the outfits she had been deciding between, “I mean it’s the first time we’ve hung out in a while and…I wasn’t nervous then but I am now. I mean, Jude, I’ve been through every outfit in my closet, I’ve showered and like an everything shower, and….ugh!” 

“Oh god, an everything shower?” Their tone, usually mocking, was warm. “Well…are you planning…well let me rephrase. Do you want something to happen tonight?”

“What?” Y/N asked, the thought suddenly coming to her mind, “I…oh my god…I….” 

“Do you?”

“Yes,” Y/N said honestly, “I…I really hadn’t thought about it because I was so busy with stuff,” a lie, Y/N had thought about Steve every day, “but…it would explain a lot of things.” 

“THINGS??” Jude sat up. “HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?? THINGS??”

“I mean,” she thought for a second before going, “I don’t know! I mean I’ve always thought Steve was handsome, he’s a good looking dude, everyone thinks Steve is handsome. And like sure there have been little moments where I wondered, what if, but I…I never really thought about liking him in that way but…then we were making dinner for the first time and he got that little smile and…and I fell for him. Deep and hard and- well not like that! But I just…I’m smitten Jude!” 

“I mean he has been a rock for you after everything,” Jude nodded totally following, “And he’s a good guy. He’s funny and awkward and charming and he…definitely cares for you. You two danced and-”

“But what if he’s changed his mind?” Y/N asked as she flopped down on the bed, “What if I go over there and he’s totally moved on and doesn’t feel the same way and now it’s like starting over from scratch or worse, what if he just wants to be friends and I have to bury it all down again?! Maybe he doesn’t feel that way and maybe he…I mean…I like him so much and I have since…jesus the seventh grade? On and off and…Jude what do I do?” 

“Oh Y/N,” Their voice consoling, for once no mockery. “You gotta go for it. You gotta. You have something special with him whether it’s romantic or not. And look at Robin and his friendship. They are still super close even after he confessed his feelings. He’ll always be there for you.” Relief did wash through Y/N in this moment only to be replaced by a new kind of trepidation. 

“Then what do I wear?” Jude cackled at their friend’s nervousness, finally indulging. 

“What are your options?” Jude said through laughter. 

The drive there was also easy with the radio on blast. Even the way up to Steve’s apartment was easy…it was knocking on the door that was hard. But she did it. And then she waited. 

Steve jumped and blew out the candle he lit. It’s not like that. Well maybe it’s like that. But remember what you’ve practiced. Follow her lead. See where she's at and make sure she feels the same still. He jumped to get the door, swinging the towel over his shoulder before opening the door. 

“Hey,” His jaw hung open slightly, seeing Y/N. Why the fuck did I blow out that candle? “You look beautiful.” Fuck that was way too forward. Can’t take it back now. He scratched the back of his head before backing up and letting her in. 

“Thank you,” She said, her voice so much shakier than she wanted it to be as she struggled to meet his gaze. She came in and kicked her shoes off as she always did out of respect. The lights had been dimmed significantly and there was already something cooking, as the room smelled of rich vivacious flavor. 

“Steve that smells incredible!” Y/N said as Steve shut the door, “What are you making?” 

“ I just made Penne Rosa,” He shrugged it off like it was the most casual thing in the world. Y/N just turned and looked at him, narrowing her eyes. 

“I leave for what…three months and suddenly you’ve gone world class chef on me?” She teased with a smirk, “Steve, there will be no point to me coming over if you can suddenly cook better than I can! Jeez.” 

“Hey now Y/N, just accept that I am officially allowed to be better than you at something,” He grabbed the spoon and offered her a taste. Y/N was far too excited for a taste as she followed him into the kitchen. Steve dipped the spoon into the sauce, got a bit, and without thinking much about it blew on the spoon to make sure it wouldn’t be too hot before passing it over to her. Y/N beamed as she took the spoon and popped it into her mouth letting out a hum in reply. 

“Oh my god that’s so good,” she praised. 

“You like it?” He beamed. “ I can relax now.”

“Like it? Steve that is the best sauce I have had maybe ever,” she said with a little sigh, “Oh that’s so good, wow.” He watched her enjoy it, before having to distract himself with his sauce. 

“The bread I got from a bakery because I didn’t have time to bake any. If you could cut some into slices that would be wonderful.”

“Of course,” she beamed, happy for a task to do as she pulled the bread knife from his drawer where she knew it would be, “So…have you been seeing anyone?” Steve dropped his spoon, splattering sauce on the ground.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” He exclaimed, immediately getting down to wipe his mess. “Uh, no. No I haven’t been. You?”

“No,” Y/N said as she passed him a paper towel, “I um…I haven’t been either.” 

“Oh,” Steve stood up and slung his towel over his shoulder, watching her back as she intently cut the bread. “Huh.” He went back to his sauce, stirring for a minute before finally giving in. 

“So,” Y/N turned to look at him again, facing him fully this time, trying to break the tension she had somewhat created though she was thankful for the relief that he was still single, “What else is new?” 

“Same old, same old”. He turned off the burden, allowing the sauce to still cook without the fire. “Nothing much to do other than work. Things just aren’t the same without you here.” Y/N’s cheeks went red and Steve smiled, confidence surging through him that spark was still there. 

“How’s my brother been?” Y/N asked as she watched him work for a moment, noting how at peace she felt here, with him.

“He’s the same as usual too,” Steve scoffed, “Cocky.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N teased, “You gave him your hair products and since then-”

“Woah, woah, don’t blame the hair,” Steve said as he pointed to his favorite feature, “The hair is not the problem!”

“I’m just saying,” Y/N chuckled, “The hair and you being around boosted his ego…but it’s nice. Except the cat thing when he’s flirting.” Steve cringed at the memory of Dustin doing the “rrrrr” sound he so often did.

“Yeah I was kinda waiting for him to grow out of that.” The pair both fell into laughter at the thought of Dustin - someone they both held dear - only being brought back by Y/N asking,  “Can I do anything else for you?” 

“Just enjoy yourself,” He smiled at her. “Actually, if you could get the wine out of the fridge…..I might have splurged because you’re back.”

“Steve,” Y/N said as she cooed his name on her way to the fridge, “Don’t splurge on my account! I’m just happy to get to spend time with you.” 

“Welp, I should have kept the receipt then.” He plated the pasta. “ Oh, speaking of splurging...you’re gonna hate this,” He smirked. 

“Steve Harrington,” Y/N put the hand not holding the bottle of wine on her hip as she looked at him with mock scolding, “What did you do?” 

“I got Pretty Woman, definitely not because it’s your favorite movie. I just happened to be available at Family Video and I had Keith hold it all day for me.” Y/N literally melted on the spot. She just looked at this man and she knew she was down bad. She had no words and could only smile at him, like he had hung the moon. “Y/N? Hello Y/N?”

“Well I mean,” She started, coming back to earth with a blush on her cheeks, “If you went through all that effort, I suppose we just have to watch it, now don’t we?” 

“I guess so,” He handed her a plate. “Listen it’s a special occasion so if you don’t like the pasta we can order take out. I will not judge or be offended.”

“Steve, I will love anything you make because you made it,” shit, she thought, that was a lot…but I can’t unsay it. So she just walked over and set the bottle of wine down on the table and got two glasses - the only two he had - out of the cabinet. He brought both plates out to his tiny dining room table, practically only enough for two. But she was the only other person other than Robin who ate here, so it didn’t really matter. As they sat to eat, he couldn’t help but feel at peace. He couldn’t help but feel like spending the rest of his life in Hawkins wouldn't be so bad. Maybe getting out every now and then with her wouldn't be that bad. As long as they had a van to drive around in. 

The pair finished dinner and Y/N was up, taking Steve’s plate to wash it before he could get a word of protest in. 

“You cooked, I’ll clean,” she had said before he could speak, “That’s how this works.” He smiled, sort of relieved that he could rest for a moment. He chose to watch her do the dishes, not in a creepy way. You’re being creepy. He looked away, going to set up the movie. 

“Is it okay if I start it? You might just miss the opening.”

“I am so sure I have this movie memorized by now so feel free,” Y/N called from the kitchen as she continued to clean, making sure everything was dried and put away before joining Steve on the couch. 

Soon enough the two were invested in the action, Julia Roberts walking down the street to Pretty Woman, one of Steve’s all time favorite songs. He felt the couch shift ever so slightly as Y/N pulled her feet up, getting even cozier on the couch and moving closer to him as a result. He wasn’t sure what to do next. Should I put an arm around her? 

“I love this song,” He said. Smooth.

“Me too,” she said with a nod. The next pan had the pair watching as Julia Roberts caught sight of the store she had been turned away from earlier in the film…the same attendant on shift.

“This is my favorite part,” Steve whispered. 

“You have a favorite part?” Y/N whispered back. 

“Of course I have a favorite part. This movie is iconic. How uncultured do you think I am?” He nudged.

“Well between dinner and your choice in film clearly I have given you less credit than you deserve,” she shot back with a smile. He turned to her, not expecting such a  genuine statement, and watched the warm glow of the TV flicker against her face. It was soothing in a way. He felt a warm rise up into his face and quickly turned away. Get a grip Steve. 

“Hi. Do you remember me?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“I was in here yesterday, you wouldn’t wait on me.”

Steve sat up straighter, hitting her thigh with excitement. 

“Oh my god, oh my god.” Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle at his excitement.

“Oh.”

“You work on commission right?”

“Ah yes.” 

“Big mistake. Big,” The pair said at the exact same time. “Huge.” They looked at each other, their smiles faded and replaced with something else. Something deeper. 

And with that, Steve shifted his position on the couch, grabbed Y/N’s face, and pressed a long awaited kiss on her lips, finally. He had been thinking about kissing her from the day she kissed him when they were in the seventh grade. A quick peck, a bet, not a real kiss. It wasn’t fair she had kissed him first and that it was so short, not even enough time to blink. He knew that someday when he got to kiss her again, he’d cherish every moment of it. 

Y/N’s eyes went wide for a second, in shock that this was occurring before leaning in, totally reciprocating. She couldn’t help herself, deepening the kiss to prove it was real by placing a hand ever so slightly in Steve’s hair, her fingers running to his roots. Holy shit. 

They moved closer and closer together, continuing to kiss, neither pulling away for air for fear that if they stopped for even a second the other would disappear back into real life once more. Y/N’s heart was beating out of her chest as both their hands wandered, trying to touch everything all at once but also so unsure on where to put their hands. At this point she was basically sitting just to the side of Steve’s lap but he wanted her, needed her closer. In one solid motion, he pulled her into his lap, his hands roaming her body. There was urgency to both of their movements, both allowing soft moans to fall at how nicely they fit together. As much as Steve wanted to treasure each and every second, kissing her like she was his life support, he couldn’t help his hands from coming to rest on her ass. He used the next leverage to pull them even closer into each other which drew a gasp from Y/N - finally making him pull away. 

“You alright?” He asked breathlessly. 

“God, yes,” Y/N moaned as she kissed him again, keeping her hands in his hair, “Fuck Steve, please don’t stop.” 

“Fuck,” Steve swore as her begging without him even having to ask, instinctively grinding his hips against her. The whimper she let out had him on the verge and they were both still fully clothed. Her legs coming to wrap around his waist so that she could feel even closer to him was the nail in the coffin. He needed her. Now. 

Steve broke away from the kiss only for a moment but Y/N didn’t cease, beginning to kiss up and down his neck until she found a spot that made him groan. She focused on it with a fervor as Steve brought his hands up to the top button of her dress since the whole thing was a button down. He kept his hands there as a “May I?” and when Y/N pulled back to nod at him, he didn’t hesitate. Steve went back to kissing her as he slowly unbuttoned her dress, bit by bit, wanting to not look until he was fully done. This proved to be a difficult task too but luckily Y/N helped him out, starting at the bottom as he made his way down. The second their hands met and the last button was undone, Steve couldn’t help but to break their kiss to look at her. His hands came to rest on her hips as he pulled away, sucking in a sharp breath. Steve had never been one to believe in God but to see the woman he had been chasing after for years undressed in his lap wearing lingerie- and Jesus Christ not just any lingerie. His favorite kind. 

It was a light blue and mesh material, almost completely see through other than being covered in beautifully detailed lace flowers. Again, Steve Harrington was pretty sure he didn’t believe in God but seeing Y/N looking better than any porno he had ever even dreamed up - he was ready to start praying. 

“Is…is it ok?” Y/N asked quietly as she looked at Steve, her hands moving to her lap as she fidgeted with them, unsure of what to do. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like it and I know I um…I don’t look like a lot of the girls you’ve been with but-” Steve kissed her so hard and fast, one of his hands moving from her hips to tangle in her hair in an effort to keep her from falling off his lap with the force he kissed her with. He needed her to know, to feel how much he wanted her. How much it had always been her. 

“You, Y/N Henderson,” he whispered after pulling away, “Are the most stunning person I have ever seen in my life.” Y/N’s eyes went wide as she took in his compliment. How was this the same Steve she had known all her life? The Steve who didn’t know how to give genuine compliments so didn’t? The Steve who Robin constantly complained acted like a twelve year old boy and couldn’t say anything other than boobies? 

“And holy fuck,” Steve swore as he brought his hands up to her waist, just underneath her breast as he ran his thumb ever so gently over the lace. 

“You can touch me, Steve,” Y/N said gently as she brought her hand up to rest over top of his, “Please…please touch me.” 

“Fuck,” Steve swore under his breath as he didn’t think twice moving his hand up to cup her breast in his hand, marveling at how she felt under his touch. Y/N ground her hips against his with a little whimper and he fucking lost it. He pushed the dress off her shoulders so she was truly in nothing but her underwear before pulling off his shirt, not wanting her to feel like she was the only one undressed. Y/N admired him as he did and felt her heart skip a beat. Steve had filled out. He had always been a decently broad guy but the second he had allowed himself to breathe and live his life instead of merely trying to survive from disaster to disaster he had grown softer instead of being lean muscle. The muscle was underneath but he had become a bit self conscious about the additional mass.

“Is that why girls don’t like me?” He had asked Robin as they passed a joint between them, “Because I’ve…”

“Nah,” Robin had replied with a shrug, “If anything that would help your case. Like the chest hair. Girls like you just fine, you just don’t like them.”

“That’s not true-”

“Yes it is,” Robin had cut him off, “Because none of them are Y/N Henderson.” 

He had laughed then but as he had her on his lap, looking at him like he had brought the sunlight back to her dark world, he knew Robin was right. No one had ever compared to her, no one ever could. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” the words flew from Steve’s mouth before he knew what he was saying, “You don’t even know.” He wanted to take the confession back, afraid she'd vanish despite the grip he had on her hips but she didn’t. Instead she turned her gaze back to his face and leaned in, going to press a kiss to his lips but she stopped just short.

“I know because I’ve wanted you just as much.” With that her lips connected with his again and it felt like the sky burst open. He pulled her closer than he thought possible, her hands coming to tangle in his hair as they kissed, rough and messy, teeth clashing as they both took what they had so desperately wanted. While Y/N was content with her hands tangled in Steve’s soft hair, Steve’s hands explored every inch of her exposed skin, one arm wrapping around her low back to keep the two of them rocking against each other with abandon. Y/N’s soft moans and the feel of her lips against his had Steve barreling towards the edge with shocking speed but he knew he didn’t want to finish still dressed on the couch. No, he wanted to be in her. 

“Y/N,” He pulled away, the pair both breathing heavily, “I want to-”

“Me too,” Y/N breathed heavily as she looked at him, hands moving to caress his face and press kisses to his neck, “Your room?” She didn’t have to ask him twice, Steve’s hands coming to hold her ass as he picked her up. Y/N swore Steve took only three strides before she found herself pressed underneath him in his bed, his lips already back on hers. Her nails raked up and down his back gently and Steve wasn’t content with that. No, he wanted to be able to feel her, see evidence of this tomorrow, otherwise he wouldn’t believe it was true. His one hand came back to grasp at her one breast, tweaking her nipple roughly making her cry out in pleasure while his other hand trailed down to her underwear. The sheer material allowed him to feel just how wet she was as he trailed a finger up and down her slit, a gasp leaving her as her eyes flashed open. 

“Shit,” He swore as he felt her, “So fucking wet. For me?”

“Yes,” Y/N said through gasps as she grasped him tightly, “For you Steve, all for you.” Steve would have smirked under normal circumstances but he felt so out of control all he could do was groan at her words and continue to feel her, rocking his hips against anything he could to try and relieve some tension from his body.

“Please don’t tease,” she begged him without the man even having to ask, “Please Steve, I just…want you now.”

“My fingers?” He asked between kisses and hickeys he pressed to her neck, taking the time to claim her as his. 

“No, I want-”

“The answers are my finger or my mouth, baby,” Steve said as he pulled back, continuing to stroke his fingers along her slit, daring to dip just the tip of one in over her underwear but denying her more until she asked for it. “Can’t have anything else until you’re warmed up-”

“I am, I am, please Steve,” She begged, seeming to be on the verge of tears from how badly she needed him, “Can I…no more pants Steve. Wanna see you, all of you.” Steve wasn’t going to deny her a thing as badly as he wanted to finger her until she came around him, he would do whatever she asked. He climbed off of her and rose, bringing his hand to his jeans but Y/N moved and put her hand over his. 

“Can I do it?” Steve’s mouth dropped open ever so slightly but he nodded as he closed it, moving his hands to her hips to give her full reign. She took his moment of submission to undo the button on his jeans, and then the zipper, before putting her hands through the loops and pulling them down. They fell to his ankles and he took a moment to step out of them, his hands on her hips pulling her into him as all that remained between the two was their underwear, allowing Y/N to feel Steve so much more than she had been able to before. 

“Fuck Steve,” She swore as she brought her hand down to stroke him through his underwear causing the man to groan, “You’re so…wow…” Steve didn’t waste a second, kicking her legs apart a bit with his feet so he could bring his hand down to cup her sex once more, pushing her underwear to the side as he pressed a finger into her. 

“Shit,” Y/N’s knees buckled a little bit at the intrusion and her grip on him stuttered. 

“Lay down for me,” he commanded as he withdrew his fingers only for a moment, bring it to his mouth with a groan as she compiled, “Fuck you taste good.”

“Can I taste you?” Y/N asked as she laid in bed, his bed, and looked up at him with an angelic gaze. 

“Not today, baby,” he cooed as he climbed on top of her, his fingers pushing her underwear aside again with ease as he slipped two fingers into her making her moan, “I’m already close and if you blew me, I wouldn’t be able to do what I really want.” 

“And you want…?” Y/N asked between little gasps as he found that spot inside her that had her nails scratching into his back. 

“Fuck,” Steve swore again as he burried his face into her neck as her hand moved inside his boxers, stroking him in earnest. “To be inside of you. Please.” Y/N moved her hand and brought both of her hands down to her underwear, pushing them off and kicking them to the ground as Steve stripped off his own. She couldn’t help but look at him, fully naked on top of her and looking like a Greek god. 

“You’re so handsome Steve Harrington.” The honesty of her compliment had Steve melting as he reached into his bedside table and grabbed a condom out of the unopened box. Y/N took it from his hands and ripped it open with ease, slipping it onto him as he kissed up and down her neck.

“And you’re so beautiful Y/N Henderson.” Y/N smiled and allowed her one hand to come back to his hair, that combined with the way he stroked himself made him groan. He lined himself up with her entrance and ran his tip over her folds for a moment before remembering her beg not to tease - not that he could even if he wanted to. He was so desperate he knew the second she gave him the ok he would slip into her without a second thought. 

“Can I-”

“Please.” Without another word, Steve began to press into her as gently as he could manage. The room turned into a mix of moans and swears as Steve fell to his elbows, bringing them impossibly close as Y/N’s nails dug into his back as she buried her face into his chest. The first few inches already had her so tight around him as he paused to revel in the feeling. Steve gently tangled his fingers into her hair to move her head from his chest, wanting to see her. Y/N must have caught on as she allowed her head to fall back on the pillow looking up at him in awe. 

“You okay?” Steve asked as the hand that was in her hair moved to cup her cheek. 

“Feels so good,” Y/N breathed out as she looked at him, her eyes watery from the feeling as she allowed her one hand to fall from Steve back and down onto the bed. “S’big.” Steve would have normally chuckled and made some comment about his ego being inflated too much but he couldn’t focus on anything except the way she felt around him and that he was less than halfway in. 

“Doing such a good job,” He praised, trying to keep his voice even as he brushed some of the curls that had fallen around her face away so he could fully see her. “Too much?” She shook her head adamantly which made Steve smile. Seeing Y/N Henderson, one of the most composed and well spoken people he knew, reduced to nonverbal because of him was becoming his new kryptonite. He used his hand not bracing himself above her to hoist her leg over his hip, bringing them closer even still. He then took a moment to lace his hand with hers as he pressed her hand into the bed. Y/N was so distracted by this she didn’t even notice Steve pulling out almost all the way before fully pushing in. A soft moan slipped from Y/N’s lips as her eyes squeezed closed but that didn’t work for Steve. She was holding back. He knew it. And he didn’t want her to. 

“Y/N, honey,” he spoke between kisses to her neck and lips and pretty much anywhere else he could reach, “Wanna hear you. Maybe some noise for me, hm?” 

“But,” Y/N said as she looked up at him, her lust blown eyes blinking gently, “It’s embarrassing-”

“It’s beautiful,” he praised as he gently rolled his hips into her, getting her used to the movement and feeling, “Everything about you is.” Y/N melted and as she felt his tip prod that spongy spot deep inside of her she let out a real moan, her inhibitions slipping away with the pleasure. 

“That’s it,” Steve cooed, “That’s it-oh fuck-” Steve swore as began to rock into her at a harder faster pace as he felt her clench around him. “So damn tight, fuck Y/N.”

“Steve please,” she whimpered as she pulled him closer. 

“Yeah? That feel good?” He said, increasing his pace and making sure to press as deep into her as he could with each thrust. Y/N felt like she couldn’t breath, feeling like she could feel him all the way in her stomach. Steve clocked his too, their hands no longer laced together as Y/N had decided she needed one to scratch his back up and another tangled in his hair, so he was able to trail one of his hands down to where he knew he was in her. He pressed down and watched as Y/N’s mouth formed a little o, her eyes rolling back as he felt her cunt start to flutter around him. 

“All the way in there, honey,” he cooed, through gritted teeth as he tried to hold off his own end until she had found hers. Keeping his hand there, he used his thumb to draw soft slow circles on her clit. That contrasted with the way he was fucking her so rough but with so much passion and praise had her teetering on the edge. 

“Steve-Steve I’m gonna-”

“Let it go honey,” he whispered before pressing a firm kiss to her lips. “Cum for me.” And she did, hard. Her cunt clenched impossibly tight around him, her eyes squeezing closed and mouth forming an o in a silent scream as her release coated his lower abdomen. 

“Holy shit-oh fuck,” Steve swore as he fell to his other elbow, not able to do anything more than let his release follow hers. He came with a high strangled groan - a sound Y/N was sure had come straight from the heavens had it not been so damn sinful. He slowed the pace of his thrusts as he rode out his orgasm but didn’t pull out as he all but collapsed on top of her before he realized oh shit I’m crushing her. He went to move but Y/N’s hands held his head to her chest. 

“Stay,” her plea was a strangled whisper as she tried to catch her breath. And he did, knowing he’d never question her and her wishes, never for a second. He laid on top of her, their breathing syncing as he could feel himself soften, still inside her. He felt his eyes begin to droop and knew he couldn’t go to sleep no matter how comfy he was. Not until he had checked on her. 

“Y/N?” He asked softly as he pushed up on his elbows to look at her. Her eyes fluttered open as they had been previously closed as she just took it all in while playing with his hair. 

“Mhm?” She smiled at him, glowing with sweat and adoration. All words left him as he rolled onto his side, still inside of her and moved her to face him. He just wanted to hold her, that was all he wanted. So he did. Steve wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in so her face was nestled into his neck as he just took in the weight of her in his arms, memorizing every detail of this moment. He knew then that while this was the first night she’d rest in his arms, it wouldn’t be the last. This, Y/N was his forever. 

Yay! I do love Steve very much and while I mainly have written for Eddie in the past, this idea kept coming back to me! Hope you all enjoyed and requests are open!

[debonairprincesposts]

You answered my question perfectly and I'll be sure to request more Lucifer in the future (love our short king). But this time I'd like to request Charlie x reader angst if that's okay (totally not inspired by your last request 😅 and sorry it's a bit long).

Reader planning an evening out for their 1 year anniversary (with help and ideas from Lucifer), based on when she's supposed to be back. It's not until later on in the evening the reader finds out she's forgotten/changed her mind and gone for an evening out with Vaggie instead. Reader leaves a crumbled note on top of a bouquet of flowers and a new dress/suit they had brought just for her and that evening. Note is your typical breaking up and leaving, with the reader leaving the hotel to try and not be found and blocking her number.

Omg anon! I have no idea where you keep getting these ideas from! They’re absolutely *Chef's kiss*

I also just love how the reader and Lucifer are basically just bonding over Charlie. And I don't mind how long your messages are! I just love reading you guys' thoughts.

Anyway! Here is the angst you requested! Hope you like it :)

Enjoy (。•̀ᴗ-)✧

Forgotten

Charlie x Reader

You were filled with anticipation for today, a mix of excitement and nervousness. After all, it's your and Charlie's one-year anniversary! Your desire is to ensure that the day is flawlessly wonderful! You plan on buying her a gift and giving it to her during dinner.

One small issue tho-

You have no idea what to get her.

Maybe you could ask someone? Someone who's known Charlie for a very long time. Someone like maybe-

Lucifer!

Surely he'd know! He is her father after all. Surely he wouldn’t mind you calling about a matter such as this, right?

In slight anxiety, you pick up your phone to dial in Lucifer’s number. He gave it to you once Charlie revealed you two’s relationship to him. Saying to call him should you need anything cuz you are his ‘future Child-in-law’. You just hope he’s free enough to answer his phone.

He picks up on the third ring, “Hey kid! How are you doing these days?”

“Hello sir! I just uhm- kinda need your help with something.”

“Of course! Whatever you need, dear! What’s up?”

“Sooo- today is Charlie and I’s 1 year anniversary and I don’t know what to get her. I plan on buying her a gift and taking her out for dinner, but I have no idea what I’m supposed to get her. Do you perhaps have any ideas?”

Lucifer let out a gasp, “Totally! Maybe you can buy her new suit? She loves those.”

That’s brilliant! How come you didn’t think of that before!

“That’s a marvelous idea, sir! Thank you for your help!”

“Always happy to help, dear! Have fun with your anniversary!”

You both bid each other goodbye and hang up.

Okay! Time to go shopping!

You spent three hours trying to find the perfect suit. And it was absolutely beautiful. It should fit Charlie like a glove. She’ll absolutely love it. Now! All that needs to be done is give her this suit to wear and take her out for dinner! You try to give her call, but it went straight to voicemail mail. Worry fills your heart. It’s getting closer and closer to the time of the reservation and she’s still out of sight.

It’s getting pretty late, you’ll miss your reservation if you don’t leave now.

You go down to the lobby, maybe someone knows where she is. You see Husk and Angel Dust at the bar. Maybe they know.

“Hey guys! Have you seen Charlie? I haven’t seen her since this morning.”

“Haven’t seen her either, toots. Why? You need her for something?” Angel Dust turns to you as soon as you get closer.

“I’m taking her out for dinner, but she won’t return any of my calls.”

“She’s been out with Vaggie since this morning. Hasn’t been back since.” Says Husk before taking a swig of his bottle.

“I-I see. Thank you.”

Husk and Angel shoot either other a worried glance as you left. You were a pretty good friend to them. They didn’t like seeing you upset. But they figured it’s best they give you some space.

Another hour passed. You had completely missed your reservation. Being by yourself for a bit gave you time to reflect on your time with Charlie. It made you realize that this wasn’t the first time she’s done this. It always felt like you were a second priority to her. Every time you’d want to spend some time with her, she’d always make excuses about how she already made plans with Vaggie. And you know what? You’re done. If she wants to hang out with Vaggie so bad then you won’t stop her.

In your fit of heartbreak, you write a letter. The letter’s contents are that of a break up. Explaining how you’re done with her. How you’re done with always being second place. How you’re always second priority. You spent three freaking hours picking out a suit for her just for her not to show up.

After finishing up the letter, it being all crumbled from how hard you were gripping it and being stained with your tears, you take the bouquet of flowers you were going to give her and leave it on her bed next to her suit.

This is goodbye.

You start packing your bags. You weren’t going to stay with someone who never cared for you as much as you cared for them. When you’re done, you leave your phone behind. You’ll make sure to buy a new one with a new number and everything.

You exit through the fire escape and never look back.

And just like that, you’re gone.

Another request fulfilled!!! Finally! I was struggling with how I’m supposed to write this, but I think I made a decent piece. Hope you like it anon! Hopefully it’s up to your standards! Sorry it took me so long to write this. Anyway!

Stay healthy and hydrated!

Bye babes! ∠(ᐛ 」∠)