#and maybe I’ll try to remember the things the little girl has taught me. about listening and loving and being | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

exclusivecolette · 11 months ago

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LOVE AGAINST ALL ODDS

PT.8

(also kinda rushed sorry)

(if you aren’t blonde or don’t apply to the features, you can just put your own features in. i just put my features because i didn’t really know what else.)

summary: a girl starts to fall in love with a boy in class. But, her abusive parents are extremely strict (ignoring the fact she’s even old enough to drive.) And what is she gonna do when she realizes, he isn’t just some crush

TW: cussing, mention of smoking, not much-

As she peaks over the light fabric she prays matt would be on the other side. But she was just met with that same light fabric. Matt was gone. what did i do?

I made my way to sit the kitchen to sit down. I just thought. He taught me how to roll it. I acted like a child a bit. Then we kissed- we just kissed. Then- um.

I don’t know.

is that why he’s upset? because we kissed?

As thoughts flooded her mind, tears flooded her eyes. She didn’t know what she did, or maybe it was something she didn’t do- she didn’t know but it was stressing her out.

Her cries were interrupted by the front door opening. She quickly walked over to see. He just went to the store. He just went out for a bit. She was met with a familiar pair of eyes but not the ones she’d hoped. “oh baby what’s wrong” Syds arms wrapped around her instantly. “he’s gone.” is all that left her mouth beside choked cries.

“Who?” She thought for a second and fury instantly filled her body. “god i’ll fucking kill hi-“ she plotted before i interrupted her. “No i think i did something. But im not sure what” i say pulling away and walked over to the kitchen stools. “What do you mean?” she asked joining my seated position. “Well me and matt smoked a little” i say quietly avoiding her eyes.

“You smoked?” She asked in shock. “Yeah and i just messed around a little and everything was fine, we- um” i cleared my throat “kissed” the painting on the wall has never looked more fascinating. “Kissed? Then he left?” she asked in disbelief. The tears had stopped and i had wiped them away as a little anger filled my body. “I’m not sure if i did something because I just woke up in my bed. And we didn’t kiss on my bed, we kissed on the porch.” i let out a breath.

“Sounds like a dick. If something did happen you’d think he’d-“ i stopped her. “I just not sure.” i say standing up.

I stayed the night a sydney’s to get my mind off things. My parents were coming back today. And i was not looking forward to it. I wish i could be with matt right now. But he just left, he doesn’t wanna be with me. I was just something to take his boredom away. He left without a word and still hasn’t text me, im not mad i- I just miss him.

The wind blew onto his cold face as he stared into the door he was starting to become familiar with. He finally had the courage to even lift his hand to the door. He knocked, and waited. Nervously. He heard the door unlock. But his face didn’t meet the blonde he was hoping to see. Instead he met Charlie’s. Charlie scoffed as he stepped out of the house, shutting the door behind him. “What are you doing here?” He looked mad. Was he mad at me? “i’m just here- um his y/n home?” his voice shook.

“No actually, she was so upset about something. And i was just thinking what could have made her so upset.” Char felt his body heat up “Then i remembered, you were at the house with her” his finger poked matt’s chest aggressively. “I don’t charlie, she hasn’t texted me-“ Matt tried to explain. “You know what? Just stay away from her man.” He turned around and made his way into the house, slamming the door behind him.

Y/n returned back to her now awkward and tense house. She had 3 more days left of spring break and was just hoping for one thing, or one person. Her parents tried to get her out of her bed. Charlie spent the rest of his break next to her, binging tv shows. He didn’t even wanna try to ask what happened. She felt bad.

Char was wasting the rest of his break to be with her. She tried to explain that she was fine, but he shut her down each time. She wasn’t fine, how could this boy she just started intimately talking to after her this much? Her parents were worried, they didn’t know what happened or if it was their fault.

It was the first day back after break. She was forced to see matt and she wasn’t ready at all. She threw her hair in a low messy bun, sweatpants, and a random crop top. She’d thought about texting matt first but didn’t know what happened. That’s what was driving her crazy.

I avoid matt as much as possible, i only the back of his head all day and that was enough. But know she had to sit next to him. She walked into class and sat down putting her head down, preparing for when matt was gonna walk in. She heard the seat next to her get sat in. Then objects slowly moving around on the desk. She had to put her head up at some point so she decided to just get it over with.

So she did, she felt matt’s eyes instantly shot to her. Tears threaten to pour out so she rest her head on her left hand that was block her face from him. He sighed.

A girl sat next to him. They started talking, i felt jealously fill my body. I just wanted to see who it was. I lifted my head, looked and locked eyes with matt for second. I looked to the girl and back to him, he was silent. Pathetic. I stand up in my seat grabbing my stuff. “Class isn’t over y/n” an older voice stated, but i ignored. I made my way to the bathroom and stayed in a stall for the rest of the day.

Sydney’s eyes met with matt’s while they were both out in the halls during class to escape a few minutes. “Fucking prick” she said while she walked by “what did you just call me?” he turned around. “I called you a fucking prick. That’s what you are. You had no fucking right” Her voice raised “what are you taking about?” he asked confused. “leaving her like that without letting her know it fucking ridiculous” She explained. “I left a note.” he defended. “sure you did” she stormed off shaking her head in disbelief.

“he didn’t leave a fucking note” i say upset through the phone. “yeah i know. And he was the nerve to lie about it?” Sydney added. “whatever i’m gonna to bed goodnight syd” they ended the call.

Y/n made her way downstairs. “Will you stir this for me?” Her mom asked referring to the pot of pasta.

!FLASHBACK!

“what are you guys making” i ask and nick says “well pasta but the noodles keeping fucking up. they keep getting stuck together.” he complained “well are you stirring it?” i ask. “dumbass” matt muttered. “god” i laugh and walking over to it and stirring it.

“yeah sure” I cleared my throat as i felt tears build in my eyes. I stir the pot thinking, “that’s good thanks” my mom said and i nodded and started walking away when i spot something. I piece of paper under the refrigerator. I picked it up and quickly run up to my room.

I turn the paper over:

I didn’t know if i should stay or not, so i’m sorry. Text me when you wake up. Only if you want to. I’m sorry again

-matt <3

shit.

#Spotify #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo

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ardenloughty · 1 year ago

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[ phoebe dynevor, woman, she/her ] — whoa! ARDEN LOUGHTY just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for THIRTEEN YEARS, working as a/an SERVER AND ATTENDING NYU FOR HER NURSING DEGREE. that can’t be easy, especially at only 25 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit IMPULSIVE and SARCASTIC, but i know them to be COURTEOUS and PASSIONATE. whatever. i guess i’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to QUEENS!

tw; alcohol, death

✹ get to know me quick.

name: arden loughty

age: 25

birthday: April 21, 1998

occupation: server & student at NYU

location: queens, ny

✹ bio

Twenty-Five years ago, Arden Loughty was born in Manchester, England, as the fourth and last child to her mother and father. When her mother was in her early twenties, she moved to England for a better career choice only soon later meeting her father and the two falling in love, creating a family and life in her father’s hometown. Growing up Arden didn’t have a bad childhood, she enjoyed school, had many friends, attended church with her family, it was every typical childhood dream you could think. At only the age of twelve, Ardens grandmother had fallen sick, and her mother couldn’t afford to continue flying back and forth, leaving her parents with no choice but to pack up and move the family to New York.

The move to a whole new country, let alone New York, was quite the struggle for Arden. Having to try to fit in with everyone, they only ever cared about the fact she had an English accent, nothing more or less, causing her difficulty in finding friends who cared more about who she was not where she was from. In high school, Arden was finally matched with her best friend, Brielle. The two were inseparable, Arden had felt she finally had met someone who had similar interests as her and didn’t care one bit that she might say a word different than her friend. The two made a pact that when they graduated, they were going to attend NYU together and get their nursing degrees. One the things the two shared within each other was the need to always help others, especially someone not feeling well, seeing the brightness of their smile at their roughest times was what Arden dreamed of being able to accomplish.

The summer of graduation, Arden and Brielle were attending a grad party that happened to get way too out of hand. Cops ended up showing up leaving everyone to scatter as quickly as possible while Arden and her friend just hopped in the back of one of their classmate’s cars, begging them to drive. Knowing if they got caught drinking or at a party, not only would they never hear the end from their parents, everything they worked so hard for school would just be thrown away. As their classmate was driving the two girls back home, Brielle noticed them swerving and started to beg for them to pull over to call someone else to pick them up. In the middle of the argument the driver not paying attention, zoomed past a red street light causing an oncoming car to collide right into them. All Arden can remember that night was holding Brielles hand as she took her last breath, soothing her the entire time. The classmate driving ended up with fifteen years in prison for manslaughter and a dui.

Ever since that night Arden made a promise to follow through with the dream her and her best friend promised. Getting a job serving at the Corner Pub, she was able to afford moving out of her parents and owning her own apartment located in Queens. She is attending NYU, as promised, while still trying to pick up as many shifts as she can. After the death of her best friend, Arden has tried her best to keep a smile on her face and always uphold herself with the best manners as her parents have always taught her. Though sometimes she can’t help snapping at somebody who holds the lack of common sense.

✹ Cute little facts

Never had a serious relationship, had flings, but never went too far

She is very family oriented and dreams of having a big family one day

She is very focused on school and her job, and maintaining her life.

She loves reading, whenever she has free time she picks up a new book.

She does enjoy drinking, seeing as shes a server at the pub regularly she will take shots with the regulars.

She doesn’t smoke.

She goes on a morning run every morning to keep herself up and ready for the day.

This is her last year serving as at the end of her school year her internship nursing starts and she will only have more year of school left until her degree.

✹ Connections

Brothers: (Arden is the youngest out of four children and the only girl. Shes very close with them and they are super protective of their little sister)

Close Friend: (Ardens next best thing to a best friend. She doesn’t open up to many people but this person she does more than other.)

Flings: (Just a little hookup on the side)

Coworkers: (Arden has been at her job for five years, starting when she was only twenty so its safe to say she has coworkers shes closer with.)

Students: (Someone else attending school or who just has the same interest in medical like she does.

The One Who Got Away: (Ardens never been in a relationship but if she were to picture her future husband/wife she would picture this person)

#tw ; death #tw; alcohol #˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . intro #boroughs.intro #hey yall im ash im so happy to be here!#im down for any connections or what just shoot ur girl a message :)

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4lexnilsen · 16 days ago

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alex just lies there for a moment, staring at the dim ceiling of the bunker, his arms wrapped around abilene as she talks softly, her words carrying the weight of beautiful albeit painful memories. he feels the warmth of her body pressed against his, her heartbeat steady against his chest, and for a moment, he lets himself focus on that — on the fact that they’re both still here, together. safe, for now. their friendship like a stubborn wildflower, blooming in the middle of a battlefield. when she begins to talk about her mom, caroline, alex listens in silence, his heart aching for her. he knows this kind of pain all too well. the ache of missing someone so deeply it feels like a part of you is gone forever. and the story hits him even harder because it’s just so familiar. he remembers his own mom dancing in the kitchen, humming a tune only known to her, spinning bryce or cameron around. and so he tightens his hold on the dark-haired girl, feeling the weight of her head on his chest as he breathes but finding it comforting.

“caroline merino.” he makes sure to memorize the name, thinking it’s very beautiful. “she must have been such a loving soul, sounds like one. you take after her, then. with your love for music and this voice of yours… bet she’s looking down on you now, feeling so very proud of who you are, how much you’ve survived.” there’s a brief pause as he contemplates was to say next, a lump lingering in his throat. “i’m sorry to hear that. sorry about your sister, too. losing a child must be… unimaginable. what about your uncles and aunts?” are they still out there? he swallows hard, his voice catching for a second before he speaks up again. “it’s so unfair when terrible, terrible things happen to good people.” he had no idea just how much abilene has suffered, the extend of her loss… he gives her hand a squeeze that he can only hope feels comforting. does she have any family left?

“my turn? well, only if i get a slice of that famous chocolate cake and get to keep the left kidney,” he chuckles softly, but then his features grow more sullen. he kind of owes her an explanation. “elizabeth nilsen,” he says quietly, testing it out like it’s something fragile. “she — she died giving birth to david. i’ll never forget the smell in that room. there was so much blood.” his breath hitches a little. he doesn’t say it, but he feels it — guilt mixed with anger. like somehow, his mom’s death is tied to david’s life, and that’s a weight he’s carried for years. he closes his eyes, feeling a burning behind them. “she was a teacher, and baked the most delicious apple pies, and loved books, and always smelled like daisies. my dad called her ellie, the only variation of her name she truly liked. she hated lizzy and libby and beth and liz. maybe she only liked ellie because she loved my dad so much. she taught me how to read when i was just four years old, she was very proud of all of us…” he’s grateful for the time they had, but still feels like he missed out on something huge. like there’s this part of him that should be there, but is not.

the silence between them stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. it’s heavy, filled with the weight of everything they’ve lost, everything they carry with them. but at the same time, it’s comforting to know that abilene is right here. that she’s listening. that she gets it. the attempt at humor is weak, but it’s there, trying to lighten the mood and he appreciates it. because that’s what they do — they hold onto the little moments of light in all this darkness. he rests his chin on top of her head, closing his eyes and letting out a slow breath. “but yeah, tomorrow’s fluorescent-light-rise? definitely around six. they should have a pool here, don’t you think? with fun slides and all that.”

abilene believed that when a person was remembered , was spoken of , it was almost like they were here again . pain blossomed in her chest as though her heart was wrapped in thorny vines and squeezed when she thought of all of them , of her family , but even then there was beauty in that pain . grief and pain were just love persevering , wasn't it ? she was quiet and snuggled in a bit closer to alex .

❛ caroline merino . ❜ abilene said . the moment her mother's name left her mouth images of her flashed in abilene's mind . she wouldn't tell anyone this , not even this boy , but it had been so long that . . . sometimes the images were fuzzy . sometimes , she had memories of her mother's laugh or her touch but she wasn't able to conjure up an image of her face . ❛ she was . she would sing with her brothers and sisters almost every night , and we'd always go even if it was just one song . when tanner and angus were little she'd spin them around and around the dance floor until they did that irresistible little baby giggle . she taught me everything i know . . . ❜

abilene's hand , the one that was not tangled with alex's own , rested on his chest . she felt the steady pump of his heart beneath her palm and squeezed his hand . ❛ she died when i was nine . she was pregnant with my sister , papa named her cheyenne . she was too little and mama . . . her heart couldn't take it . i miss her . a lot . ❜

feeling as though she had yet again thoroughly brought the mood down , abilene sniffled and cleared her throat . ❛ what a coincidence , i'm in the market for a left kidney . not the right one , though , that'd be a deal breaker . ❜ abilene smiled , her hand on his chest moving to wrap her arm around his chest . even if the position was uncomfortable , which it wasn't , it didn't matter because as soon as she moved david shifted and his cheek rested against her hand . ❛ it's your turn . you wanna tell me about your mom , now ? ❜ he didn't have to , of course . ❛ or we could talk about the weather ? i bet tomorrow will be about seventy degrees , and that the fluorescent-light-rise will be about . . . six thirty ? maybe six ? ❜

#qverdia #q.#back when they were just getting to know each other!

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lauraneedstochill · 2 years ago

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Make a move

summary: you think Aemond is too arrogant to woo you, but he’s got some tricks up his sleeve. pairing: Aemond Targaryen x F!Reader words: ~ 6000 warnings: a bit of bickering and teasing, it gets slightly heated (Aemond has a praise kink, but I doubt anyone is surprised), mostly it’s just silly fluff author’s note: this was inspired by “Crazy, stupid, love”, particularly the scene where Emma kisses Ryan (one of my favorite on-screen kisses!) and everything that follows. I recently rewatched the movie and had an idea for this story (also, I may or may not have a thing for men’s hands... you’ve been warned)

You keep mindlessly tapping your fingers on the wooden table, your cup of wine untouched. You don’t really notice the movement, too wrapped up in your thoughts, until your friend Margaret sneers.

“If you don’t stop, I might bite your hand off,” she says, sitting across the table.

“Then I’ll use the other one,” you huff but pause your fidgeting. “Better bite my head off, it will do us both more good.”

“But I like your head very much,” she pouts. “Is this about Thomas again?”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands and thinking back to the conversation you had earlier today with said man. Your emotions are a mix of annoyance and embarrassment as you can’t stop thinking about his words.

“He said the meeting will be of great importance. What if he...? You know,” you mutter, and Margaret huffs.

“I hope he won’t.”

“Hey, you are supposed to be my friend!” you playfully pinch her hand, and she fakes a gasp.

“I am your friend. And as your friend, I think you deserve way more than that sad excuse of a man,” her face gets serious for a second, and you feel your smile waver.

“Mar, you know I don’t have much of a choice,” you breathe out, and your heart sinks at the thought. “He isn’t that bad, really. He’s always been kind to me.”

“Sounds like every girl's dream,” she rolls her eyes. “And you want to settle down for a kind man? Nothing else?”

“What do you think my options are? Please, enlighten me since I’m clearly missing something,” you cross arms on your chest. You know she’s right and she means good, but your frustration gets the best of you.

Luckily, Margaret catches it and gives you a sympathetic smile.

“All I’m saying is that for as long as I can remember you’ve always dreamt of something more,” she extends her hand across the table and lightly squeezes yours. “We’ve been friends since we were little kids, and you are the most loving person out of everyone I know. Should I remind you who taught me how to dance? Protected me against my idiot brothers?” you giggle at the memory. “You’ve got an adventurous spirit and a heart of gold. You deserve an epic love story,” there’s a hint of sadness in her voice.

For a minute you sink into your thoughts again.

“And you think Thomas is not the one?” you sigh.

“He’s epically boring at best,” Margaret takes a sip out of her cup. “I know he’s not the one — and you do, too.”

“My parents approve of him,” you try to argue, but she’s quick to object.

“They only care about your approval. And they mistakenly took your lack of protest for it,” Margaret gives you a gloomy look.

“You are aware that I can’t wait forever, right? I’m not getting any younger.”

“Nor smarter,” she snickers.

“Not everyone is lucky to meet the love of their life at the age of ten-and-two,” you frown. Margaret and Jamie got married three years ago, but they have been betrothed for seven prior to that.

“Fair,” she beams, and you can’t stay irritated for long. They are still ridiculously in love with each other, and you are really happy for her. You just wish to feel that, too. You crave that indescribable feeling of longing and wanting and caring for someone else — and being loved just as much in return.

“Maybe the concept of love is overrated,” you ramble. “It was easy to believe in when I was a kid but... As I am growing older, it’s getting harder to cling to hope, I guess. And I’m trying to make an effort and meet new people and... to show just enough character to not scare them away,” you quote your mother. “Yet all of them just make me feel nothing. At all. And I—” you realize that Margaret isn’t listening, her gaze is on something else behind your back. “Hey, I’m pouring out my heart of gold,” you hiss, and her sight shifts to you.

Before you can question her behavior, she informs. “Someone’s been keeping an eye on you.”

“Margaret, I’m trying to have a serious conversation about my future,” you fight the urge to turn around.

“Maybe this is your future!” she winks, and you grunt at her silliness.

“We are in a tavern out of all places! I’d rather take a kind man as my betrothed than a drunk one,” you’re about to scold her, but your friend’s eyes go wide.

“His hair,” her voice is barely above the whisper. “I can make out the strands of silver,” Margaret slightly leans towards you. “You know what that means?”

“That you had too much wine? Mayhaps we should head home,” you suggest, but your friend protests.

“Sit down!” she shushes. “He is coming over here,” Margaret puts on a smile that looks painfully forged. The never-ending chattering of people around you makes your head hurt, and you’re too tired to play along.

“Mar, it’s been a long day, and the last thing I want is to waste my time entertaining some man’s arrogance and...,” you don’t get to finish because he interrupts your train of thought.

“What if a man entertains you?” his voice is low and cocky. You close your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. You don’t want to make a scene in a public place so you pull yourself together, thinking that you can talk your way out of this ridiculous situation.

But when you turn to him, your eyes meeting his, your plan is suddenly forgotten.

He is taller than you, a black cloak covering most of his body and his head, so your attention is naturally drawn to his face. He wears an eyepatch, and you look over his sharp features — his prominent nose, high cheekbones that flow down to the curved contour of lips, plump and alluring. Margaret was right about the hair, but she failed to mention the color of his eye. Taking that into account, it’s not hard to guess that he’s a Targaryen. Which means that he definitely is arrogant.

Well, two can play that game.

You ignore his question and pointedly don’t stand up in his presence.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I believe the pleasure is all mine,” he is only looking at you.

“We just met, you should not jump to conclusions,” you feel Margaret kicking your leg under the table but dismiss her warning.

“Sharp tongue,” he notes.

“Will this be a problem?” you challenge him.

“On the contrary,” it sounds like he’s actually enjoying it.

It is tricky to read his intentions. But when his gaze is concentrated on you, it makes you feel like there’s no one else in the room, and that sensation is thrilling.

“What brings you here, if I may ask?” you press, trying to ignore the unknown feeling creeping up on you.

“It is a nice tavern, wouldn’t you say so? Since you are here, too.”

“No, I mean what brings you to our table. There are plenty of others you could’ve graced with your presence.”

“Something must’ve caught my eye,” he says, and you see a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Some thing? Well, the interior isn’t very eye-catching if you ask me. But we might have to disagree on that.”

“You aren’t being very agreeable, it seems.”

“That’s what servants are for, and I’m not one,” you’re being defiant yet it doesn’t bother him.

“Please, do tell me more about yourself,” he swiftly pulls up a nearby chair and sits right next to you, his eye never leaving your face.

“Should you pull another one? For your ego, since it takes quite a lot of space.”

He squints at your words, and the corners of his mouth turn into a grin.

“I think we have that in common,” he bites back, but there’s no anger in his voice. If anything, the man looks curious, and you have to admit that you don’t take offense at his wit.

“Are there any other far-reaching conclusions that you managed to come up to?” you turn your body to him, so now you two are opposite each other.

“I only got here a few minutes ago. But I am a great observer should you give me a little more time.”

“Am I supposed to take your word for it? You are not as convincing as you think,” you impugn, so he pauses briefly.

“You don’t trust people easily, do you? How’s that for an observation,” his voice gets quiet, but his gaze is piercing.

“Men,” you correct him. “I don’t trust men.”

“Any of them dared to break your trust?” he gets a little closer, and you instinctively gravitate toward him.

“That would’ve required them to gain my trust first,” you retort.

“And what would it take for me to do so?”

“Do you expect me to make it easy? That’s not very observant of you,” your grin matches his own.

“Nothing good comes easy,” he murmurs, and you involuntarily lay your eyes on his lips. “But I expect it to be worth it.”

You feel a pull toward him, something that’s hard to describe but oh so natural to give into. His confidence isn’t intimidating but rather attractive, and you can’t help but notice how his gaze warms up your whole body. He makes you feel wanted without even doing anything.

But then you think of Thomas. Of the upcoming meeting and your future that depends on it. And you know you can’t throw it all away for some silly conversation with a self-confident stranger. No matter how enjoyable it seems to be.

You bite your lip and look away from him.

“That is enough entertainment for today,” you put some distance between you two. When you give him a quick glance, you catch a shadow of disappointment on his face.

“Didn’t take you for a quitter,” the blond comments.

“You should manage your expectations.”

“Maybe I should manage yours,” he has some nerve.

“That would be very time-consuming,” you suddenly realize that he’s sitting in your way, and it looks like he isn’t going to move.

“Are you in a rush?”

“I am” — “She isn’t,” you and Margaret say at the same time. You feel your cheeks heating up as you give her a death stare.

“Has anyone told you that you look charming when you are embarrassed?” he remarks, and you want to wipe the smirk off his face. Preferably with your lips. You mentally scold yourself and push that thought away.

“Does this usually work for you?” you get up, thinking of a way out.

“You tell me,” he leans back on his chair with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly aware that he's blocking your exit.

“Cornering women in taverns is your way of courting?” you think how to distract him, but nothing springs to mind. “And then what, you just drag them into your man cave?”

“They come voluntarily,” it looks like your words struck a chord, but he keeps up the facade of indifference. “I happen to live nearby,” he notes casually.

“We both know that’s not exactly true,” you scoff with a tilt of your head. You are positive that the walk to the castle will take at least thirty minutes.

“Want to bet?” he sits up straight.

“And what do I get out of this?”

He looks you up and down before answering:

“Me.”

He’s pushing his luck at this point.

You glance around and take note that the tavern is packed with people, and no one is paying attention to you. You also realize that Margaret already sneaked out and is standing at the door. She raises an eyebrow with a silent question, as if asking what are you going to do.

That’s when you decide you can push some boundaries, too.

Your eyes are back on the man in front of you. Without giving it a second thought, you step closer to him.

“Was that supposed to make me weak in the knees?” you whisper, and his face expression melts into an amused one. Seizing the moment, you yank your dress up and throw a leg over him. He immediately looks down at the exposed skin of your thigh, his mouth is slightly agape as he’s now sitting between your legs. You see him tensing up, his fingers clenching into fists as if he’s fighting the urge to put his hands on you. You think that if he does, you are not going anywhere. You wouldn’t want to go anywhere — the realization makes you tremble, and you know that you don’t have much time.

You boldly place your hand on his shoulder, pressing him back onto the chair.

“I hate to break it to you, but you are not that impressive,” you say, throwing your other leg over him and successfully moving away.

When you get to the door, the look on Margaret’s face is priceless. You grab her by the arm and drag her outside in a hurry, merging into the crowd of passers-by.

“I need you to explain what the h—” she starts, but you interrupt her.

“Please, don’t,” you snarl. “Don’t say anything, just give me five minutes.”

You can’t even explain to yourself what happened back there and why you did that. You think of his gaze roaming over your body, the depth of his voice and the curves of his lips. You tell yourself that you need to get him out of your head as soon as possible. You fail miserably.

One week later, you are dining with Thomas at his house, and yet your mind wanders back to the arrogant one-eyed man. Aemond, as you’ve learned — and it wasn’t that you wanted to, but fate had other plans.

And by fate, you mean Margaret.

Once her five minutes were up, she couldn’t stop talking. By the time you came home, you got his whole backstory — the second-born son of the King, has two brothers and two sisters, rides the biggest dragon in the world. Overly confident, stubborn, wears an eyepatch because he doesn’t want to scare the ladies of the court. Usually doesn’t talk much.

Unlike Thomas who gathered his whole family and can’t stop blabbing. You struggle to participate in their conversation, giving polite smiles left and right. You don’t know what to expect of the evening, and it makes you nervous. And not in a good way. All of a sudden the possibility of marrying Thomas doesn’t seem to be the best.

From the corner of your eye, you catch him standing up, clearly readying himself for a speech. He has a manner of pursing his lips every time he’s agitated, and it looks weird. That’s also how it felt when he kissed you, which is probably the reason you haven’t done much kissing after that. You wonder what it’s like to kiss Aemond. Just thinking of it makes your heart rate speed up, and you nervously gulp half a cup of wine.

“I gathered all of you today to make an important announcement,” he starts his pompous monologue, “that may not come as a surprise to some of you.”

You cautiously look at the door.

“But, as of recently, I received inspiration to change the course of my life. And I decided to devote myself to the service of Gods.”

You nearly choke on your drink. In all the years you’ve known Thomas, he’s never been to the Sept once.

“And I wanted to grant you this privilege to be the first ones to know.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. You wait for any other announcements — literally anything else — but Thomas goes back to chattering, also accepting pointless congratulations. It takes you ten painfully long minutes to get a chance to talk to him alone.

“May I have a word?” you inquire, and the two of you move to the far end of the room.

“It is about your speech,” you clarify. “It might sound silly, but I thought that you were planning... Um,” you’re trying to formulate your concerns. “I was wondering, how would you describe our relationship? Or the prospect of it, I should say,” you give him a tight smile.

“Oh,” his face pales slightly.

Your facial expression mirrors his. Oh?

“I am actually glad you asked,” he awkwardly takes your hands in his, and you notice how sweaty his palms are.

“You know, you’ve been a great companion of mine,” his voice is as weak as his smile. “And I am forever grateful for those moments that we shared as they only brought me joy,” his hands feel like jelly, and you don’t want to hold them. Like, ever. “But now that I’m choosing to follow my destiny,” you do your best to suppress a chuckle at his dramatic phrasing. “I decided that... I need some time to figure out how I feel. About us.”

You look at him, dumbfounded, his words sinking in.

“You need... some time?” you drawl, feeling an emotion bubbling up in your chest. You are not sure what it is. “You? Need to think about us?” you repeat, and he nods, his brows furrowed at your reaction.

There is a moment of silence, and then you hear yourself laughing. You can’t control it as you’re overcome with emotion, your laughter only growing stronger, to the point of you tearing up a bit. The emotion is relief. There’s no way you’ll ever marry this man.

“I am the one who should be glad, Thomas,” you shake his hand while he seems wildly perplexed, all of his guests staring at you. “Thank you for your honesty, really. I hope you will be successful in all your endeavors, marriage included.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you already turned around.

“Where are you going?!”

You stop for a second, your thoughts rushing back to the conversation with Margaret. To that evening in the tavern.

“I have a meeting, it’s of great importance,” you say and quicken your pace. You reach the tavern when it’s already getting dark, the weather is cloudy, and your coat is wet in the light drizzle. You walk in a daze as you’re torn between being excited and anxious. There is a chance that Aemond won’t be there. That he doesn’t remember you. That he’s with someone else. That he had a change of heart. That he...

You spot him almost immediately after you walk in.

Coincidentally or not, he’s sitting at the exact same table you were at the first time you met. You stay still as his eye absentmindedly wanders around the room and then lands on you. Aemond stands up — way too quickly — and you see a well-known grin growing on his face. Your eyes dart to his lips, and the question pops up in your head again.

You feel the pull — and before you can think, your body follows it.

He keeps his gaze on you, his brows rising at the speed of your approach. You cover the distance in a heartbeat, your hands reaching his face, and he slightly flinches, probably because your fingers are cold from being outside. And then you stand on your tiptoes and crash your lips onto his without any hesitation.

He gasps, surprised and frozen for a moment. It takes just a couple of seconds for him to melt into the kiss, and his hands are instantly on your waist, pulling you closer to him. Aemond’s lips are way softer than you anticipated — and it’s the only thing on your mind. His mouth on yours, warm and exploring, the slow pacing of the kiss that leaves you lightheaded and yearning for more.

He presses your body into his, lifting you up with ease, and your feet leave the ground. You tug his hood further down so it covers most of your face, too, and then you slide your thumb up the sharp line of his jaw. His tongue runs over your lower lip, and you feel a wave of heat rising in your stomach.

You pull away before you can take it too far.

“You remember me?” you ask him, panting.

He hums, his eye focused on your lips.

“Still believe that nothing good comes easy?” you mimic his words, but he ignores your jesting.

“Definitely,” Aemond looks you in the eyes, keeping his hands on your waist.

“Is the bet still on?”

“Yes,” the corners of his mouth curl.

“Lead the way, then.” By the time you reach the castle, the rain is pouring in full force, and your clothes are drenched. The two of you rush through the streets, your hands intertwined, and it feels like it only takes about ten minutes before you sneak into his chambers, both out of breath and giggling.

Only when you take a look around the unfamiliar settings, it suddenly dawns on you that you are all alone with a man you barely know, and your bravery starts fading away.

Whether Aemond notices the change in your mood or not, you can’t tell, but he respectfully keeps his distance.

“You need to get out of these,” he points at your coat and dress. “They’re soaking wet.”

“Is this your way of trying to get me naked?” you eye him suspiciously, making Aemond scoff.

“I just don’t want you to catch a cold,” he honestly states. “I’ll fetch you a shirt of mine.” Sensing your doubts, he adds, “Don’t worry, it is long enough.”

He brings you the shirt and politely turns away, going to the other end of the room to light the fireplace. On his way there, he removes the cloak and the jacket, his upper body only covered by the same piece of clothing he gave you. You watch him carefully, noting the movement of his back muscles as he bends down.

The sparkling glow of fire brings you back to reality, and you hastily remove your clothes, leaving the undergarments on, which are luckily dry. You put on his shirt, and it barely reaches your knees, but the material feels nice and comfortable. While Aemond is still busy with the fire, you glance over his room.

It’s spacious and simply furnished, and your attention is drawn to a couple of shelves nearby. You look at the tightly packed rows of books, some of the hardcovers are worn out from old age. You catch the familiar naming and pull one of them out, gently flipping through the pages.

“You take interest in philosophy?” his voice startles you. You missed the moment he came back, and when you take your eyes off the book, you see him leaning on the nearest shelf, looking at you inquisitively.

“I do, indeed,” you confess. “And I read this one so many times, my own copy pretty much fell apart.”

“You can take mine,” Aemond offers.

You notice that despite his cockiness, his presence is actually very calming. Everything is easy with him — striking up conversations, making jokes. Taking his hand in yours, running in the rain. Kissing.

Your heart skips a beat, and you sheepishly move on to another topic:

“Shouldn’t you change as well?” you refer to his shirt, but he shakes his head.

“No need.”

“Oh, was it the Targaryen’s dragon blood that helped you dry up?” you tend to jest when you’re nervous, and right now is no exception.

“My cloak is too thick for the water to soak through. But I like your version, too,” his lips ripple into a smile.

You can help but smile back. “Thank you for the shirt.”

“It looks really good on you,” the words smoothly roll off his tongue and ignite the familiar burning deep in your core. He keeps his gaze on your face, your eyes locking for a moment.

You look away first, letting out a timid laugh.

“I must admit, I like this way of courting better,” you place the book back. “But you can cut it short. What’s your move?”

“My... move?” Aemond gives you a quizzical look.

“Yes, your big move. Show me,” you request eagerly.

“Don’t know what you're talking about,” he looks down, his aplomb faltering.

“What do you usually do to impress a lady?”

“I don’t really need to do anything,” Aemond shrugs.

“What a humble individual you are,” you chuckle and give him a minute to think. “So what is it?”

“I just told you...,” it seems like he’s trying to dodge the topic, which only sparks your curiosity.

“Oh, come on! You princes always have a move. Let me guess, you speak to her in High Valyrian? Men like to talk big,” he snorts. “No? Try to win her over with your...,” you gesture at his bookshelves, “...precious collection? Although it’s risky because what if she’s not into reading, that would be awkward,” and then it hits you. “Wait, it’s the dragon, isn’t it? You show her your dragon? Got to make sure it’s well-fed, though, otherwise you’ll have a date with a roasted —”

“It’s my sword,” he cuts you off, and you swear you can see him blushing at the confession.

“Um, your sword? Is this a metaphor for someth—”

“Gods, no. I mean the actual sword. The one you grip with your hand and poke people with.”

“That description didn’t help,” you tease, and he groans.

“You know what I mean,” Aemond gives you a pointed look, but his face flushed pink, and you can’t take him seriously.

“I do, you just look really charming when you are embarrassed,” you say cheekily, which makes him huff. “My apologies. Please elaborate on the sword. How does it work?”

Aemond hesitates but then realizes that you will never let it go, so he gives in.

“I bring my training into the conversation. And then I... show them,” he talks with his hands when he’s uncomfortable, and you find it endearing.

“And that’s it?”

“Pretty much,” Aemond nods.

“They watch you train, and that’s what does it for the ladies?”

“I don’t know why, I never gave it much thought.”

“Well, someone should. Can’t imagine it ever working on me.”

You feel a sudden shift in the air as Aemond slowly looks up at you. You’re standing a few feet apart, and he’s yet to initiate anything, but once again, it only takes a look from him for you to feel a familiar flare-up of the tantalizing desire.

“I’m not going to take you to the training yard in the pouring rain,” he concludes.

“But it’s not about the place, is it? Must be something about you,” now you’re the one champing at the bit to see what the fuss is all about.

“I don’t have a sword on me.”

“Opt for something smaller, I am sure it will do,” you hint at the dagger that you’ve seen him carry, and wait expectantly for him to agree.

Aemond reluctantly contemplates your suggestion, then sighs and goes to get his dagger which he left next to the cloak.

You wonder if the ladies are attracted to his competitive spirit. If they enjoy the feeling of danger they get at the sight of steel, the cold shine of it, the clang of swords. Or maybe it’s the urge to take sides and root for the winner?

And then you see Aemond rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, — and your breath suddenly hitches.

The room is lit by fire, the warmth of it illuminating his skin, casting shadows that frame every muscle of his arms. He takes the dagger in one hand, the movement fast and honed, and your eyes follow it. You notice the scattering of his veins that go down his wrist and into his palm, the blue lines tightening with every swirl. The silver blade catches and reflects the light, but you are focused solely on his flexing muscles.

He’s maneuvering the dagger with ease, almost carelessly, yet you know that every motion is well-practiced through years of training. His long fingers grip the hilt, revealing the sharp outline of his knuckles. The steel silently cuts through the air, again and again, but your eyes are glued to his hands. The way they move, the power that he holds in them. The things he can do with them, with his fingers. The way they will feel on your bare skin and in your... You swallow, letting out a shuddered breath.

“Are you weak in the knees yet?” his words bring you out of your trance, and you blink a couple of times, trying to shake the feeling off. Your body is so heated, you’re surprised you are not sweating yet.

“Is this the point when the ladies throw themselves at you?” your voice is hoarse, and you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself.

Aemond stops his movements. You feel your skin tingling with anticipation, waiting for him to finish what he started, but he doesn’t budge. For a short while, you’re taken aback by the change in his demeanor — and the realization strikes you.

“Wait, how many ladies were here before me?”

“I never said I take them here,” he puts the dagger back in its sheath, averting his gaze.

“But you told me that you do your... thing with the sword for them.”

“In the training yard, with other people around us, yes.”

“So then you just leave them all hot and bothered? Aemond, that is cruel,” his actions confuse you, but while you’re looking for an explanation, he turns back to you and finally meets your gaze.

“It would’ve been cruel to lead them on when I feel nothing for them,” he reveals, and you discern the raw honesty in his words. And you know exactly what he means. It’s the tiresome attempts to find someone who will spark your interest, to spot a connection, all of those efforts leading nowhere and making you feel like you’re the one at fault. But you aren’t — and he isn’t, either.

Aemond looks almost ashamed of letting out something so personal, but you welcome the intimacy of this moment.

“I shall consider myself lucky, then,” you say softly.

He gives you that same look that makes you feel like the world around you disappears.

“You are... something else,” Aemond mumbles.

You guess that he isn’t used to being straightforward about his feelings, nor does he know how to express his affection with words. You really, really want to kiss him again.

The boyish grin reappears on his face.

“Did you mean I left you all hot and bothered?” Aemond narrows his eye.

“I never said that,” you smile coyly. “Maybe you should’ve tried a little harder.”

“I happen to have some tricks up my sleeve,” he takes a step towards you and, before you can ask for details, you feel his fingers on your ribs as he starts tickling you, and you immediately burst into laughter.

His touches are light, fingers grazing against your clothed skin as he subtly moves you further into the room until your legs bump into his bed. Losing your balance, you fall on it, your back met with the fluffiness of thick blankets. Aemond hovers over you, and you can’t stop giggling, trying to wiggle away from his tickles.

Wrapped up in the moment, you make a careless move, your hand brushing up his cheek — and you suddenly see a bright gleam of blue on the right side of his face.

Aemond freezes at the spot, halting his actions, and momentarily flinches away. You are gawking at the sapphire, unable to form a coherent sentence.

He makes a move to fix his eyepatch, but you stop him.

“Don’t,” you catch his hand mid-air, your grip delicate but firm, and he doesn’t fight it. You would’ve been surprised by your own quick reaction if only your mind wasn’t completely occupied with the sight in front of you.

It looks like the gem absorbs all the light in the room, shimmering with various shades of blue. It’s cut in a way to imitate a surface of an eye, the sides of the sapphire polished and blending into each other. There is a depth to it, bright sparkles drowning in a color that’s close to black, and the spillovers are mesmerizing.

You bring your hand closer to his face, to the area that’s been left covered and unloved, and touch the skin with the tip of your finger. He lets you.

“Wow,” you breathe out, gently tracing his scar. “This is the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”

Aemond looks at you in disbelief, his eye fixed on your face, and his lips parted.

“...What?” he manages to ask.

“You look like a pirate. A really badass... sky pirate?” you suggest, and he lets out a light chuckle, still not entirely sure he believes you.

So you shamelessly continue.

“A pirate with his own dragon. The largest one in the Seven Kingdoms as I’ve heard,” you can almost feel him swelling with pride. “He charms the ladies with his fighting skills — and has a gem for an eye? Incredibly irresistible,” your index finger circles the area around his sapphire.

He listens attentively, holding his breath.

“A prince who is as good with his sword as he is with his wit, fond of reading and isn’t averse to mischief. Any lady of the court would’ve been fortunate to get a hold of such treasure,” you remove the eyepatch and tenderly cradle his face. “Yet I am the one who’s been honored to see all of him,” you glance from the bright gemstone to his eye and back. “Honestly, it’s kind of hard to pick which one I like more...,” you are barely able to notice him sharply lower his head, and your words die down.

Without a warning, Aemond covers your lips with his, the intensity of the kiss pulling the air out of your lungs right away. He’s been holding back the first time, but he isn’t now, and the passion sets you ablaze. His tongue slips into your mouth, easily tangling with yours, and you moan at the contact. Aemond skilfully unbuttons your shirt, and the second his fingers touch your skin, you shiver, the quivering sensation washing over you. His hands slowly slide down your ribcage, tracing the curves of your body, making your back arch, your chest flush against his, your heart pounding. He contours the bend of your hips, then presses his palms there, his touches rough, claiming, burning. You move your fingers up the base of his neck and run them through his hair, and he releases a shaky sigh. Aemond relishes in the feeling of your compliance, the fervor of it, your body being so needy and welcoming, until you are both gasping for air.

“Was that impressive enough?” he rasps, and you look up at him through your lashes, spellbound and breathless. His pupil is dilated, gaze clouded with lust, your noses adjoin.

“Yeah-yes. Yes, very,” you utter, at a loss for words.

“Good. Because I’m about to outdo myself,” he tightens his grip on your thighs, picking you up and moving into the middle of the bed. Your head barely touches the pillow when his lips are on yours again.

🔥 my masterlist

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes

#aemond targaryen x reader #not gonna lie the main reason I'm finally posting this is because a few ppl on AO3 liked it and it gave me a *little* boost of confidence #kinda??? I mean it also took me a few days of trying to convince myself to post it on tumblr #(also I've been staring at this draft for 4 hours)#my confidence is non-existent lmao #my stuff #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond one eye #oh god how many tags can I come up with #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfics #aemond targaryen fics #hotd fanfiction

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dreamwritersworld · 2 years ago

Text

Once innocent. Part 5. (Sully family x reader)

Hi! Just a reminder that this is a mini series to show the deeper sides of Y/n’s life BEFORE “The chore” :) 💕

“Tuk! No!” I rush in to protect her from the glass. Everything felt so slow, all I saw was Tuk, I’ll take any hit if it meant keeping her safe. But then it all went black.

*y/n ‘dream’*

“Y/n?” I open my eyes “Rey’akana? (Rubbing my eyes to get a better look) Rey’akana! W-where have you been? I missed you.” He embraces my hug and shares my emotions. I began sobbing in his arms unable to hold in any of my emotions “I’m so-….I’m so stupid, I-I don’t know what to do.” He gave me his safe sad look “Oh I know that feeling, you know I was making it all up as I went along right? You kept me going. You wanna tell me about what you’re up against?” I look down at my tiny hands, playing with them. (Rey’akana sees Y/n only in her kid body, not her teenage body!)

“It’s dad. He doesn’t think I can take care of Tuk. He’s going to take her away. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way I-I- I didn’t mean for it to go this way. I just- I’m so attached to her, I love her. She’s everything to me, she’s my light and he knows it. He’s completely fine in taking it away. I can’t keep fighting him anymore, it’s not easy. I can’t go back to him anymore. Maybe he was right, I was a distraction I get people killed.” Rey’akana looks at her with the most shocked and angered face, soon calming down realizing he should try a different approach. Exhaling a sigh

“Oh sunshine, you know you always get like this after arguing with him, after something big. Remember when you argued with him over you hitting that girl for saying something mean?” I shake my head “yea but that’s different, I was alone. Now I have Tuk. I’ve realized that…I can’t just keep fighting him, he’s only going to push her away”

he takes a moment and looks back out to the forest “…it’s harder when you have something to lose. But having her, people you care about? That’s a good thing. She’s fighting beside you. Because of you.” I nod my head agreeing. he laughed and said “To think when I did your hair or taught you survival, I was just following memories from 20 years back. But you…You have a gift of surviving, you’ve kept Tuk strong. She looks up to you. You’re a leader Y/n, a natural. You’ll have the power of a clan one day.“

I smiled and look up at him “thank you Rey’akana, talking to you just always makes me feel a little bit better.” He gives a sigh of relief “you know you didn’t distract me right sunshine? I made it clear that I’d protect you. If anything, you gave me motivation to keep fighting in wars. Eywa sent you the same gift she gave me. A sweet innocent child. A ray of sunshine. Tuk is your gift. But something tells me Eywa is sending you more. A real chance at life. For you and Tuk. You just need to remain patient. Remember your job Y/n, you made a promise. When you return to Tuk, you tell her all the things you need her to do, give her a simple push to keep going with you. You don’t think it hurt her the same way when she heard her father yelling at the one thing she holds sacred? That girl looks at you as if you were the only one there. You look at her like she’s the only person you’ve ever known. She see’s it. So when you go back to her Pick it up, and start again. You’ve got a second chance. You could go home. Ignore him, it’s just irrelevant. I’ll only be able to come back once it’s all over Y/n. When you need me again, I’ll be here watching you, holding you while you sleep. You could still be what you want to, what you said you were when I met you. You’ve got a warm heart and beautiful brain, don’t let him take it away.” I grasp onto him more trying to hold onto our little time left, before he goes but I can’t wait to see him again. Please no.

“I’m not ready to go without you again, please.” He sighs and hold me tighter before saying “A guardian who has not prepared their ‘child’ for their own death has failed as a guardian. I prepared you. You’ve been doing good, just need to come back down. You have prepared Tuk, I’ve seen you…but it’s not your time. Come see me again, when you’re really fine and got both of you out ok? Out and safe.” I cry into his arms again “Ok, oel ngati kameie Rey’akana” he smiles and says “Oel ngati kameie, Sunshine” *

I let out a long gasp as I come into reality. “Y/N! Oh Y/n, I’m so happy your ok! Let me get grandmother!” She rushes out after a quick hug and barley gives me the chance to say anything. I wait patiently, preparing what I’m going to say, to Tuk, to father. “Y/n…how are you? Are you ok? I’m so sorry that happened my child. You were out for awhile, but you seem to be as good as you could be in this situation.” Grandmother cleans and checks me up. “Your mother and father are on their way. Sit tight.” She leaves, with a sympathetic smile on her face. She doesn’t know what happened but she knows it wasn’t right. None of the treatment Y/n received was right. But what could she do? It’s her daughters child. If she betrays her daughter, she betrays herself….

“Sunshine, come here, in my arms ok?” Tuk looks hesitant, almost as if she’s scared to hurt me. “…a-are you sure? You’re still-“ Y/n cuts her off with a laugh “I don’t care sunshine, I just want to hold you and talk for a minute. Before they come ok?” Tuk complies and goes to sit in my arms. “This is just what happens sometimes-“ Tuk shakes her head and says “But it wasn’t supposed to happen to you!” I sigh taking in her frustration, it’s valid for her, she wanted to take the hit just as much as I did, but she’s just a kid.

“My sunshine, You’ll always be sunshine to me. Look at me…You’re so perfect, how did I get so lucky?”

She looks at me with tears in her eyes still remembering the fear she felt when she tried to save her sister in the room. How she thought she lost her. “Please. Don’t be silly right now. Not right now. Please. Stop. Just stop. I thought I lost you, I thought I’d never see your sweet face again.” I sigh and close my eyes preparing my speech.

I need this confirmation. I need her to know even if she was scared, she could live without me. I need to know that she won’t give up. So I’ll talk like it’s my last breath. To make sure it’s heard. “I have a job for you. If and when the time comes for me, I need you to get back home. I need you to sleep in your own hammock, and have friends, and grow tall. Taller than I ever was I hope. I need you to live Tuk. That’s your job now. I need to hear you say it” she looks down, crying before looking up at me securing her promise “Ok Y/n that’s my job now” I hold her for the meanwhile while she sleeps, I begin picking glass out of her hair.

“Y/n? Oh thank Eywa you are ok.” Mother rushes in and hugs me. This is uh…new? I just TRY to accept the hug. Father walks in soon after. “Y/n, sorry. I never meant to hit you with the glass.” He didn’t hit me, but he wanted to hit near me. “Let me make this clear. I do not care what you felt you had to do. Or what your intentions were. You are wrong. And I am allowed to be as mad as I can be about it. I do not want to hear your excuses. We both know that the way you hit, how hard it was, the aggravation, next time your intentions are going to be worse and we both know that. I’m not gonna pick glass out of Tuk’s hair again, it’s just not gonna happen. I will be allowed to see Tuk. You OWE me that.” He still gives me that silently frustrated look. He can keep it. All I need is Tuk. I carry her quietly as I walk out to go home so I can pick more glass out of her hair. Eywa only knows what she felt and saw when I was hit.

*Tuk’s Dream*

He’s yelling at her again. This time, he’s too mean. He’s always mean to her. I was listening to them argue until I heard him say “You will not watch Tuk anymore.” What?! No no no please. I run to get mom to help me stop the argument. Then I run back back to go inside and stop it. As soon as I walked in dad threw a glass handle, headed right to me but it was obviously not intended for me…but for my sister. My mind didn’t process how fast it was, I could just hear her voice

“Tuk! No!” It hit her so bad, she fell to the floor with glass cut into her face. “Y/n? Y/n?” No, no not like this. I whistle out to her crying in between, praying to Eywa to have her whistle back to me. Let me know she’s ok.

“No! No! What have you done! Mom help! No Y/n! You’re gonna be fine, your gonna be ok. Not my sister, please not my sister.” Mom rushes in “Jake, carry her NOW. We have to take her to my mother.” I run as I follow them, yelling out to Y/n in hopes she’ll wake up and hear me. “Y/n! You’re going to be ok! I’m right here!” Then we made it to grandmother’s and she got to work quick.

I turn to dad ready to speak my mind. Like I was taught. “Y/n is hurt because of you. I don’t know why you get so mad at her. But it is not an excuse for you to hurt her. She will never be good enough for you will she?…no matter how hard she tries. She’ll never be strong enough…she’ll never be perfect enough…Y/n stopped trying with you because you only saw the worst in her. She loves this family. You’re the one that doesn’t care. You’re the one who’s…reckless! She could die because of you.” I was mad. I will not hide it in order to make him feel comfortable. I hold zero mercy for someone who clearly didn’t care. I walk away towards Y/n, ignoring him calling my name. Ignoring him give me his sad voice and pleads. My heart is still racing. It hurts. She’s alive but, nothing will bring me comfort knowing that she’s not sleeping willingly. She can’t wake up. She’s just stuck in transit right now. *

She wakes up scared, screaming my name. “Tuk? It’s ok, it’s ok I’m right here. Don’t worry I’m not leaving you. I’ll protect you. I’m here sunshine.” She sobs into my arms “I can’t sleep. Let me sleep with you. Please.” “I’ll never deny you sunshine, let’s just clean up first. We’re dirty right now. Once we’re done we can sleep.” So we did just that and as we are laying down tuk decides to ask a question “c-can you sing me to sleep? Like when I was a baby…I’m just too distracted right now.” I give a small laugh and agree. We haven’t done this in so long, I missed it. She’s getting so big.

“Moonbeams and starlight, magical twilight

The warmest ray, hear it whispering your name

Rainbows at midnight, sparking night skies

Don’t go away, stay another day.”

I can feel her peacefully sleep and soon I follow her….

💕!

I tried making this my last part, but I just can’t rush it. I want more sister moments, more ********* moments. Can’t give too much away 🤭 Hopefully Y/n and Tuk can catch a break soon. 💔

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir @itshype

@zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll

@abbersreads @tsireyak @neteyamforlife @aimsro

@elegantkidfansoul @goodiesinthecloset21

@nikotokitaswife @bucky1235 @detectivesparrow @kikosaurscave @octavias-next-meat-bite @midnightliacr @waitingforanotherpart @marybrown23 @ssc7514 @destinylb @simp-erformarvelwomen @eirianna @ambria @lv9su @im-in-a-pansexual-panik

#jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #sully family x reader #loak x reader #angst #neteyam sully #sully family x daughter reader #neytiri sully #avatar loak #avatar the way of water

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dejwritesarchived · 3 years ago

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SPOTTED — msby black jackals volleyball star atsumu miya following pop princess (y/n) around like a poor innocent puppy. seems like the twin’s tail is stuck in between his legs now that princess (y/n) sank her teeth into him. #hisfriends&hisdadhateher

— atsumu miya x reader ( corruption kink, nepotism child!reader, singer!reader, dom!reader, sub!atsumu, handjob, mean!reader, manipulation, sexist jokes, reader calls atsumu 'tsumu', mentions of pubes, gaslighting, spit kink, bathroom sex )

theme song(s): crybaby, megan thee stallion ft da baby + dark red, steve lacy

XOXO, GOSSIP GIRL MASTERLIST.

YOU STOOD WITH SUNGLASSES ON AS YOU WERE WAITING FOR ATSUMU TO PICK YOU UP FROM THE AIRPORT. You felt annoyed at the fact that you were stuck at the airport for over forty-five minutes, hoping no one recognized you as you sipped on coffee and went through your social media pages and other websites. Particularly Gossip Girl, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes and remember the post they wrote about you. How could they say those things about you? And people were agreeing with it. Perhaps your post wasn’t as bad as that supermodel Hakkai’s post. They called him a manwhore that can’t walk straight.

You don't understand people sometimes. Why was it that it was okay to write those things about people like them? But when you said something back, you were the bad guy? You were the one labeled as a bitch or hard to work with. It made you laugh. Being one of the most popular pop singers in the world became more stressful considering the bizarre comparison with stars like Dua Lipa and Ariana Grande. And guess who was seen as the tyrant between you three? You.

Your phone started to ring and you saw your manager calling you, you answered it with a quickness. “I still can’t believe you decided to go to freakin’ Japan. Even though his friends hate you,” Your manager said.

“Do they hate me? If they did, they would have made him dump me,” You responded bluntly.

“You have that much of a charm on the guy,” Your manager said.

“I wouldn’t say that, he has a charm on me also,” You said. You found yourself smiling a bit even thinking about your boyfriend.

“Just don’t let your temper get the best of you. They don’t know the real you,” Your manager explained.

You let out a sigh, “Okay, I won’t. I mean, it’s just dinner with his friends.”

“And dinner with your famous volleyball player's friends can be intense, especially considering his family already don’t like you.” Your manager soon adds.

“Okay in my defense, I think they’re just upset he’s been spending more time with me than them. I can’t control that,” You bluntly admitted.

You heard your manager let out a chuckle, “Everything isn’t about you hun,” They admitted.

“Gossip Girl says otherwise. That website is spreading lies about me and because small-minded people rather read gossip, of course, they’re going to believe that page over me. Do you know how embarrassing it is having Jimmy Kimmel make a joke about who I slept with? That’s why I’m the bitch I am today. Perhaps women should be angry some more, maybe just maybe misogyny would be banished if we were a little angrier,” You ranted.

You could hear your manager let out a sigh. “Just enjoy dinner with Atsumu’s friends and please behave. I’m running out of ‘Y/N is deeply sorry’ basket ideas to give out and the label is tired of giving out hush money,” Your manager warned.

You glanced up seeing Atsumu walk toward you and you couldn’t help but let your lips curl into a smirk. “Tsumu’ here, I’ll behave.” You quickly said before hanging up.

Those were the last words you told your manager before hours later you found yourself clutching at the bathroom sink trying to consume your anger. You inhaled sharply and exhaled. You even did the counting trick your infamous actress of a mother taught you to do when your emotions were getting the best of you. You didn’t expect to meet Atsumu’s friends today, but here you were in his brother’s restaurant hiding away after a comment was made about your embarrassing interview a couple of weeks ago.

You chewed at your tongue to spit out harsh words, but instead, you pushed yourself from the table to excuse yourself to the ladies' room. “Everything is going to be okay, just take a deep breath. You do—”

Your words were cut off by your boyfriend’s voice, “You don’t have to snap at everyone. That’s the reason you’re labeled as a bitch in the first place.” He finished.

You looked at him as he slowly crept his way into the room being sure to make sure no one saw him. You rolled your eyes at him before going back to washing your hands for what seemed like the third time.

“You’re okay?” Atsumu asked.

“Of course, I’m not.”

“It was just a little joke Y/N.”

“But jokes are supposed to be funny. It wasn’t funny. I already have the world constantly trying to berate me, I don’t need your friends doing it also,” You sneered. “They don’t like me.”

Atsumu was quiet for a second, his lips parted to speak but you interrupted him quickly.

“And you didn’t even bother to defend me. So much of a boyfriend you are?” You snapped.

“Maybe if you weren’t so fuckin’ stubborn and acting like a diva then they’ll like you! It was a harmless joke, which he apologized for right after. You’re just on edge because of that Gossip Girl post.” Atsumu argued. “The way you’re acting right now, clearly shows people what the blog is saying is true.”

His words cut you like a harsh knife as you looked at him. You were so shocked at his words, that you didn’t know what to say. You could feel how intense the moment was between the two of you after the harsh words that were spread between the two of you. You never expected Atsumu to raise his voice at you, he had never done that before. You could even tell it took him by shock. Like clockwork, instead of acknowledging Atsumu’s words, you ignored them. You’ve noticed you did that a lot, completely ignored his side of an argument. Afraid to admit that you were wrong.

Your lips pouted out as you looked at him, “Tsumu, I’m ready to go home. Can we go?” You innocently asked. You leaned up to place subtle kisses against his chiseled jawline.

“But babe—“ His words were cut off when he felt the palm of your hand rub against his crotch.

“Please.” Your voice oozed with manipulation, your lips placed a peck on Atsumu’s lips.

“I just think we need to cool down from the situation,” You said lowly as you stepped closer to him.

“And we need to go home to do that?” He questioned. “You just don’t want to be around my friends.”

“Why would I want to be?” You asked out loud. “I have nothing in common with them.”

“They’re a part of me. I’m not saying you have to act just like them or like the same things they like. I would just appreciate it if you guys got along,” Atsumu explained calmly.

You thought about it for a second as you met his gaze. He was giving you that same puppy dog look he gave you when he wanted something. His thick eyebrows knitted together and his lips formed the same pout that was plastered on your face.

“Fine but first,” Your head motioned to the stall. Now it was time for you to pout again.

“Seriously? You want to do it here, in my brother’s restaurant bathroom?” Atsumu said.

Your teeth nibbled on your lower lip as you were backing into one of the stalls slowly. Your index finger motion for the volleyball player to follow you. “At least let me make you feel good.” You suggested.

Atsumu’s ears perked up like a dog hearing its favorite chew toy being squeezed. His feet glided against the bathroom floor as he followed you into the stall. Your lips instantly crashed into his once the stall door was closed and locked. It was insane how much you had a charm on the guy. Although, from the bottom of your heart you knew it was wrong. There were times when you said some things and did some things to get Atsumu practically eating out your palm. Only cause you were afraid that he won’t look at you the same. That he’ll look at you the same way the people who wrote horrible things about you looked at you.

Your hand instantly went to undo his pants. Pushing them down slightly to release Atsumu out of his boxes. You were so eager to stroke his cock, wanting to feel the feeling of Atsumu’s dick growing hard in the palm of your hand. Not wasting any time as your fingertips stroked at his pink shaded mushroom-shaped tip. Atsumu lets out a relaxed sigh as he let his body slump against the bathroom stall. You would free your hand from his cock holding it up to his mouth. “Spit.” You simply said.

“What?” The volleyball player asked confusedly.

“Just do what I say,” You urged. “Spit.”

You heard your boyfriend sigh before he’s spitting in the palm of your hand that previously was clutching his thick member. The wet substance pooling in the palm of your hand before you guide it to his dick. Atsumu’s dick was pretty. You loved giggling about it in your friends' group chat when you were off about six mimosas after brunch. Even on days where he didn’t trim, his dick still sat pretty when he was rock hard. The feeling of his cock hardening in the palm of your hand was amazing. If you weren’t a cocky superstar, you would even admit that it was a better feeling than holding your fourth Grammy. Although, he was more of a grower than a shower. When he was growing, he would grow. It was thick enough to have your lips gasp apart when he bottomed down inside you. His tip was a nice mushroom shape that looked pleasant when it glistened with precum. And he even jokingly would tell you that he and his twin brother Osamu have an identical vein on their cocks that seem to only appear when they’re hard.

The pornographic sound of you stroking Atsumu’s cock bounced off the walls in the bathroom. You loved teasing your boyfriend a bit, deciding to flick your wrist in a slow-motion that caused his voice to get whiny just the way you like it. Occasionally when you gave him Lil teasing handjobs, he’ll even place those large hands over yours to help you guide his cock at a pace he wanted. When he did that, your panties instantly grew soaked at the action. But right now, you wanted to take it at the pace you wanted.

“Y/N,” Atsumu whined as his hips bucked upward into your palm.

Hearing your name from his mouth made your heart beat faster before you flickered your wrist up and down his cock at the pace he liked. You watched as his face grew as red as the Chanel purse you carried today. He was a whining mess right in front of you and you were loving every moment of it.

Despite the gossip articles about how you didn’t care for Atsumu. That you were only dating him for popularity. No one knew that you could read the volleyball player like a book. You knew him, you knew his mind, and of course, you knew his body. You knew that the lower part of his abdomen always quivered when he was about to cum. His hips always buck recklessly just so he can shoot thick strings of cum either inside you or on you. The heat of the moment in the small bathroom stall was so intense, that you could see Atsumu’s eyes water with tears of pleasure as he let out a breathy moan. His head fell back to be met with the stall walls. “Y/N, fuck—“ his words were interrupted by the sound of the women’s bathroom door being pushed open.

Your free hand instantly clasped over Atsumu’s mouth, shushing the moans that he wanted to spit out. The two of you could hear two women chattering in the bathroom, most likely touching up their makeup. Your wrist flickered up and down in a slow-motion that caused Atsumu’s chest to cave inward. He was trying to control his breathing so he wouldn’t cum just yet.

“Go ahead and cum, I don’t care.” You whispered as you were pooling up all the saliva in your mouth. “You’re so close to cumming baby and I would hate to leave you like this.”

You would give your boyfriend a flirtatious wink as you would then let your spit out your mouth to drop on Atsumu’s cock. The wetness hitting his cock and your hand to add more lubrication to it. You continued to work Atsumu’s cock, hand gliding up and down in a quick motion as he squirmed in your touch.

“Did you see Y/N at that table? I can’t believe that guy is with her. The tabloids say she’s a horrible person.” You heard one of the women say.

Your ears grew hot hearing your name fall off their tongue, but you didn’t stop jerking Atsumu off. Especially given that his eyebrows were curled together and his face was growing red indicating that he was about to cum.

“You should give your number to one of his friends so they can give it to him. I’m giving maybe a month or a week before they break up.” The other woman said, letting out a giggle.

You felt Atsumu’s body tense up and your thumb instantly placed on the one hole that was stopping the thick creamy substance from oozing out his cock. His eyes grew big at the move you made, you never denied him of his orgasm. Not like this.

“I want to hear what she says,” You whispered, your head motioning to the woman behind the closed stall door.

“Hmmm, I would look better on his arm than her.” The woman laughed. “We should do that, let’s go.”

Just in time, you let go of Atsumu’s cock and your hand freed itself from covering his mouth. Atsumu let out a loud groan of pleasure as his hips bucked into your hand letting his cum shoot out effortlessly. You could hear scandalous gasps behind the stall before you’re unclenching yourself from Atsumu’s cock and coming out the stall.

Your head held high as you pushed in between the two now silent women to wash Atsumu’s cum off your hands. You didn’t say a word as you dried your hands and soon wet a couple of paper towels. You walked over to the stall Atsumu most likely was embarrassingly sunken in, giving him the paper towels to clean himself up with before he soon was stumbling out the stall line a hormonal teenager wanting more.

The two women's eyes grew big as they scattered to leave the room, one instantly going to text on her phone. Your lips curled into a smirk as you turned to look at Atsumu, your lips curling into a smile.

“Can we go home now Tsumu?” You once again asked as you stepped forward to fix the pants he was wearing. He had forgotten to zip his zipper and while doing the small task, you were sure to let your fingertips graze over his crotch.

“Sure, just let me go say bye to the guys first. You can just wait in the car,” Atsumu stuttered out. His face is shaded with a bright red color before he’s leaning in to place a peck on your lips.

You would give him your infamous smile before twirling around to leave the bathroom with him. You always will have Atsumu wrapped around your fingers, no matter what Gossip Girl said, his friends, your friends, anyone. Just as you made your way to the exit, you knew everyone was glancing at their phone at the sudden Gossip Girl post.

SPOTTED — Our favorite pop singer Y/N still has her boy toy wrapped around her fingers. Too bad Atsumu friends, she’s here to stay.

XOXO, Gossip Girl

TAGS — @woahhajime @nanaminshousewife @hhawkz @aasouthteranoswife @touyasghosty @aces-high @serenareiss @festive @cirigiri @stunnababyyabyyy @maboiisuga @harrylovesmc @indiecursor @caribbeanwifey19 @v4ncher @imsuchawh0r3 @chososcums1ut @yuujilove @torapologist @sofiakistein @goofbye @simpfor2bcharacter @awkwardaardvarkforever @atshena @kookieflvr @nekoriots @ambersea7 @getosbunny @silversslut @0rang3wax @xyvezyr @bokenams @@n4namins @whatdidhesayyyy

#atsumu miya smut #atsumu miya x reader #anime x reader #anime smut #hq smut #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #atsumu x reader #deja's 4k followers event.

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theshippirate22 · 1 year ago

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No no no, that’s the thing. I’m not both. Not even a little. I am 110% a Crowley-girl down to the weirdest coincidences. (Ask and you shall receive because here’s the essay) Look at this:

-I was raised super religious and my faith was always shaken by my questions. I understood the concepts and believed what I was being taught- I still do to a certain extent- but I’ve never understood why it needed to be the way it was and because of that, I was never the believer i am fully capable of becoming.

-I’m gender-fluid and my sexuality relies very heavily on who I am and who we’re talking about. Enough said.

-I own one (1) pair of sunglasses. they are $14 knock-off Lennon’s I bought off amazon three years ago. I had never seen or knew anything about GO. I also went through a phase where I was super mentally ill and trying to keep people out and it would make me really physically sick (stomachaches, headaches, joint/back pain, neck/shoulder tension, migraines, etc.) so i would often wear them inside.

-I own a black car with a woman’s name that almost never needs to be filled with gas. (It’s a hybrid Prius so it’s mostly electric. I didnt buy it on purpose to be like Crowley. My parents bought it and i ended up buying it from them. Also her name is Priscilla)

-I was taught to drive in the southwest, which means if you’re driving in front of me and you’re going five over, i hate you. drive fucking faster.

-my response to something stressful is and always has been escapism. I WILL run away. Unfortunately I don’t have Alpha Centauri so mine is whatever readily available piece of media i can consume and make my entire personality. Yes, ironically GO is one of these.

-I’m not an angry person, but when I am angry, I’ll say unhinged shit i don’t mean and a lot of the time i end up coming back with my tail between my legs knowing i messed up.

-I work in what is widely known as the WORST retail pharmacy in the US (not specifying for legal reasons but i bet you can guess) literally all we do is make people miserable and there’s a ridiculous amount of paperwork. It’s exactly how Hell is portrayed in the GO universe. I chose this profession when I was a sophmore in high school so what are the odds right?

-that being said, i wear scrubs like 70% of the time. The rest of the time, i wear the one pair of women’s black skinny jeans that i own. Again, not to be like Crowley, this was just a habit i formed years ago.

-I’m an oldest daughter, which means my innate nature is to care for things. If i see a child or an animal, i will look after it, but i am going to be bitter and resentful about the whole thing because of how i had to be a parent so young.

-I am very much of the mentality that it’s better to be free but disowned instead of obedient but loved. This is also part of what made me an outcast from my religion and what made me kind of a weird kid.

-I was really good at English when I was in school, like analyzing literature and writing essays but it was so boring and repetitive to me to do it for class, but then I discovered Chemistry and it was exactly like angel!crowley watching the nebula. The idea that we can strip something down to the very elements that make it up, or go even lower to the atoms and then use it as raw power of creation???? my mind is blown. I was also an art kid. I have painted space and nebulas for as long as i can remember.

-my greatest, most haunting fear is that deep-down i will never be able to make up for the fact that it’s just me. doesn’t matter what i’m doing, it will always be inhibited by the fact that it’s just me. in other words, i won’t be forgiven for what i am. that’s just not who i am

-slut in theory, virgin in practice. put that thing away, i don’t know where it’s been.

-I’m consistently a second choice. I don’t know why that is; maybe i’m doing something that no one has bothered to tell me, but it seems like everyone who i put first would also choose something before they chose me

-And if it had been me in the final fifteen, I too would’ve stood next to the car and hoped that Aziraphale would change his mind. Because against all odds, i’m an optimist. My mom says she can tell when i’ve been in a room because i leave every drawer i open half-open out of habit. I am the same way with people. I leave everything open in the hopes that someday, someone, somewhere, will have exactly what i need laying on the top of a half-open drawer.

like. look me in the eye and tell me that isn’t a bunch of really weird coincidences. Like Crowley and I are one and the same.

So because of this, I am an Aziraphale girl. I’m obsessed with him, not in a fangirl-blorbo-babygirl sort of way (i mean. sometimes) but in an i-need-to-take-apart-his-brain-and-figure-out-why-it-works-like-that way. an i-want-him-to-be-happy-even-if-i’m-not way. a what-would-i-have-to-do-to-get-him-to-want-me way. i hear aziraphale in every single song i listen to and i see him in the hot chocolate i drink every morning and i think of him whenever someone brings up crepes.

I am an Aziraphale girl.

I’m a Crowley-coded girl, which makes me a Crowley girl, but because I’m a Crowley girl, I’m actually an Aziraphale girl. In this essay I will-

#good omens #ineffable husbands #shut up jay

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little-fics · 3 years ago

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Curiosity Killed the Cat

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Request summary: you are not happy about your daddies new way of keeping track of you, but maybe you could warm up to the idea of it

Warnings: Age regression; pacifier mention; sort of leashes but its like a baby leash connected to a backpack; baby has hurt feelings; I could have missed something so please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: I really hope you like it nonnie, I really enjoyed writing it. love you buggy boos <3

You wanted to look at everything not matter where you went with your daddies. At the park it was every dog, every leaf. At the store it was every fluffy thing you could find, every piece of candy or toy. If you saw something you wanted to look at, you were gone. Steve and Bucky had discussed their options after the fifth time you'd run off from them. It wasn't that they didn't want you to look, but you're their baby and you needed one of your daddies to go with you. The problem with that? You forgot in your excitement; a lot.

That's how you've found yourself in this predicament.

You were ready to go to the zoo, tattered thigh jean shorts and a pretty tie-dye shirt with SpongeBob's crew with cute purple shoes. You were bouncing on your heels at the door, waiting impatiently on your daddies. You know better than to go out the door and wait for them by the car, so you're whining, rushing your daddies.

"Papaaaa, it's time to go! We not gonna get to see eb'ryfin'!" Steve came rounding the corner, Bucky trailing right behind him with a lavender backpack in his hand that seemed a little full. Steve picked you up, balancing you on his hip, "We're almost ready little one," he wiggled his finger on your tummy, "we just want to show you something before we go." Bucky held the backpack up, smiling innocently.

It was so cute, it was a shade lighter than your shoes to match perfectly. It was plain, other than the pins and small keychain fidget toys your daddies had surely put on. He opened it up and it had a coloring book, a pack of colored pencils, your favorite pacifier and Lincoln the Ram, the oldest stuffie you had. You reached for the ram, and when you'd pulled him out you saw a bag of candy. Bucky laughed when your eyes lit up, "No baby, that's for today, you can have some later." You jutted your lip out and he shook his head, "Nice try, but puppy dog eyes only work on papa."

When you accepted that, Steve spoke up, "This is a special backpack sweetness." Your brows furrowed as you looked at it, not seeing anything about it. Bucky pulled out a stretchy cord that ended in a scrunchy like bracelet. "When you put this backpack on, daddy or papa will put this on." He slid it on his wrist and tugged at the cord close to his wrist, "So you can't go wondering off like you always do." You whined loudly, "Won' run off!" Your face in Steve's neck, letting out another loud whine.

“Oh silly baby,” Steve kissed your hair, “it’s okay, you’re not in trouble for being curious, we’re just trying to protect our kitty.” You let out a heavy groan, “No, don’ wanna wear it.” You clutched to Lincoln, your chin wobbling on edge of tears. “Dollie,” Bucky said softly, stepping forwards to rub your back, “it’s dangerous when you run away from us, you forget in the pretty head to tell your daddies where you’re going and we can’t find you.” You let out a long groan in protest and stayed in the crook of Steve’s neck, Bucky’s hand still on your back, “We can stay home instead of going and seeing all the animals, would you like that better?” Your head rose and you shook your head at him, “No daddy, I’ll wear it.” Bucky felt a strain on his heart when he saw the way your pout still rested on your face. “You won’t hardly notice it baby,” he kissed your nose, “not with all the pretty animals we’re gonna see.”

When you got to the zoo, Bucky unbuckled you in the back. You always sat in the middle because that’s where you were most protected, so he had to drag you out of the car a bit. “Okay baby,” he held the backpack up, “put ‘em in there.” You just stared at him a minute, “What if I pinky p’omise to be good?” He shakes his head, “Baby, you already are good. You agreed to wear it to be safe, we can’t go in if you’re not going to be safe.”

You huffed and put your arms in it, the band already around Bucky’s wrist. “Good girl, now listen to me baby, you gotta keep your backpack on, it can’t come off or it defeats the whole purpose.” You nodded deftly, body now trained on bouncing towards the gate. As you got around more people, Steve grabbed your shoulder and bent down to your face. “Did you hear daddy baby? That backpack doesn’t come off until we are back in this parking lot or you're in one of our arms, understood?” You nodded and Steve raises his eyebrows, “Yes papa, I understand.” He rubs your cheek with his thumb before giving you a quick kiss, standing back up.

It had worked remarkably well, you’d gotten distracted by all the animals as suspected. You were pulling Bucky around everywhere, and of course with Bucky came Steve. You pulled them to the lions rather quickly, jumping up and down, changing positions all over the outside of the enclosure to see them. “Daddy!” You ran to near the end of the enclosure, stopped dead in your tracks by the leash.

Bucky chuckled, but to you it was no laughing matter. “Wha’ you doin?” You pulled on him, shaking your bag roughly, “Baby, slow down okay, we’ve got plenty of time to look at the lions.” You made an angry face at him and continued to pull at the leash, “Come on! Wanna walk wif it!” You stomped your feet until he finally caught up with you. “Dis’ is why I always look wifout you, you too slow.” Bucky ignores your comment, mainly because you grab his hand and intertwined your fingers with his, shaking his arm and pointing at the big cat, “Take it home wif us?” Steve, who stood behind you, laughed in shock, “That’s a no from me bug, come on, let’s go see what’s next.”

With his recommendation you remember that there are so many more animals at the zoo. You squeak out a high pitched okay and take off skipping. Your long legged daddies had no problem keeping up throughout the next few hours, but then you had to potty. Truth be told, you were tired of looking at the giraffes anyway.

You glanced up to your daddy, who's whispering something in Steve's ear and laughing. You tug on him, and he turns toward you, "Gotta go potty." He smiled, nodding his head, "Of course bug, thank you for telling us without trying to run off." You grumbled and started walking to the bathroom, keeping the leash taught the entire time. You started to shrug off your backpack, irritation creeping up your spine before stopping.

You turned around to Steve and Bucky, a frown plastered on your face. You waited until they were dead in front of you, you slid off the backpack and pushed it roughly into their chest, stomping away to the bathroom. Both of them stared at each other for a moment, Steve commenting lowly, "Awfully grumpy." Bucky's mind swirled, you're not one to be outrageously bratty, so when you came back out, he knelt down and grabbed your hand.

"What's going on my buggy boo? Is something bothering you? You not feeling good?" You shrugged, pulling your hand back and taking the backpack with a wobbling lip. He made a clicking noise, smiling and took the backpack from you. "How about papa wears the backpack and I'll carry you, it's about time for lunch anyway, right?" You seem to instantly relax and let Bucky balance you on his hip, kissing your cheeks.

Steve slipped on the backpack, an odd and tight fit on his body but with the straps completely loosened, it had a millimeter of wiggle room. He starts to lead the way and Bucky whistles sharply at him. Steve turns around with raised eyebrows, but Bucky is looking at you with a 'can-you-believe-him' look.

Bucky turns to Steve, grabbing the bracelet part of the backpack and sliding it on your wrist, "You can't go running off either," Bucky looks down to you, giggling into his shoulder, "isn't that right sweetness?" You nod, looking up to Steve, shaking your wrist, "Papa we gots tuh know you safe!" Steve immediately catches on to what Bucky's doing, and smacks his forehead playfully, "How silly of me, huh dovey?" You pointedly nod, a smug look on your face, "Uh-huh, now nommies please!"

You're in a much better mood being carried by your daddy, shaking the leash playfully at Steve when you sit down at the table. He slid the backpack off of his back, laying it down on the table. "I thought maybe you'd like a dum dum while we wait on Daddy to come back?" Steve was bouncing you on his knee, already popping the sucker into your mouth. You laid your head on his shoulder, your eyes fluttering closed while enjoying the sweet lemon in your mouth, too asleep to notice it disappearing from your mouth.

Bucky sits down with Steve, smiling at your tired form, "I told you she'd tucker herself out and we wouldn't be able to get through the whole zoo today." Steve scoffed, "You act as if she's going to be willing to leave." Bucky kissed Steve softly before planting kisses all over your face, rousing you from sleep.

As much as you don't want to be grumpy, you can't help but frowning at Bucky. He just kisses your nose and tilts his head towards the food at the table. Your eyes land on the chicken strips first and your whole body bounces at sight of the large slushy on the table. "I-Buh-'S mine?" Bucky laughs at your apprehension to breaking the rules, don't have too much sugar. "Of course baby, we thought you'd like something sweet, like yourself."

When you are done eating lunch, Bucky tries to help you put your backpack on, but you run away from him, around the table. "Nuh-uh," you cross your arms over your chest and look to Steve with puppy eyes. "Baby," he starts, coming over to you, sitting on the metal seat, "what's going on? Don't you like your new backpack?" Your bottom lip wiggles again, tears in your eyes, "'S ugly." Steve looks shocked, "Honey, you love purple, what's really going on?"

That's when the damn broke, tears falling from your face and broken sobs coming out. Steve's holding his arms around you, and Bucky's found his way to rub your back. "Shhh, dove, tell papa what's got your head going so fast." You're hiccuping, letting out broken coughs with small gags, unable to form coherent words. Bucky grabs your chin, holding your straw to your lips, "Here baby, take a drink of your slushy." Somehow you listen to him, sugar is always a good bribe for you.

"Dollie," Bucky pulls you onto his lap, "what's wrong?" His eyebrows are raised, forehead against yours, noses almost touching. He's waiting for you to regain a normal breath to press harder. He doesn't get the chance, because you start talking before he can ask again. "J-jus- 'nother reason tuh ignore me."

Bucky's heart breaks, Steve's expression matching the hurt Bucky feels deep inside him. "What on earth are you talking about honey?" Your eyes start to tear up again and Bucky scolds you gently, "No, no more of that you hear me?" You nod and let Bucky wipe away one of your stray tears. "Honey, we bought the backpack because we were so worried, not so we could ignore you. You run around and poke at everything, you forget to tell your daddies what you're doing and it scares us. You understand baby?" You shrugged and Bucky sighed, kissing your cheek. He's about to say something else when Steve picks you up from Bucky's lap.

"Bucky, put the backpack on, let's go," he's gentle about it, but you're still upset. "No! Wanna see more pets!" Steve tries to lightheartedly chuckle, but it comes out dry, "Oh dove, we're not leaving the zoo, we're just moving on." When Bucky has the backpack on he puts the leash on your wrist, just as it was when Steve wore it.

Steve catches you shaking the band around your arm, and a lightbulb goes off in his head. "You see baby?" Steve starts, and you're confused, so he continues, "You're constantly playing with it, that means your eyes are on daddy at all times." You furrow your brows, a pout still resting on your face. "Go on Bucky," Steve nods in an opposite direction, and Bucky starts walking. When the leash reaches the end of its rope, your arm is pulled until Bucky turns around to face you.

You're hesitant, eyes flickering between Steve and Bucky, "No forgettin' me?" You're looking up into Steve's eyes, swimming with love, "Dove, you're everything on our mind every second of every day. We got it so if anything happened, anyone tried talking to me or Bucky, or we argued over dark or milk chocolate, we'd never be too distracted for you." You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, cuddling closely to him.

You can feel the leash pulling on you, and it takes your attention away from Steve. Steve doesn't move his feet though, Bucky playfully moving side to side to pull at the cord around your wrist. "Papa, daddy's tryin' to run off!" You could hear Bucky laugh as Steve caught up to you. "Whatdya say we get some of that ice cream you love so much Dollie, before we go see the rest of the animals?"

You beam at Bucky, a genuine smile crossing your face that lights up your eyes. "Dippin' Dots!" You shake and dance in Steve's arms, "Lemmee down, lemme down! Dippin' Dots! Dippin' Dots! Dippin Dots!" Steve lets your feet hit the ground, and you pout a little, glancing to the backpack. Steve seems to pick up on your hesitation, "How about daddy wears the backpack, you wear the bracelet and hold my hand? That way everyone is kept together and safe?"

You happily take his hand, all wariness thrown to the wind when you started skipping. "Dollie," Bucky stops, making you and Steve stop in place. He looks stern for a minute, but then breaks into a laughing fit, pointing to the righthand turn at the intersection. "You were so excited," he kept laughing, moving you to see the stand with many balloons and a sign that says 'Dippin' Dots', "that you ran right by it!"

You take off running, Bucky and Steve quick to follow. They didn't bother trying to gently reprimand you, they didn't care if you were excited and couldn't contain yourself. In fact, they loved it, as much as they needed a way to keep track of you with the leash, they wanted a way to make sure they never miss your bubbling excitement.

When you've made it to the stand, you are tugging on Steve. He looks down to you, watching your eyes flicker to the balloons. He smiles at you, adding your favorite color balloon to the order. Once you'd all sat on a bench, he starts to tie the balloon around your free wrist but you jerk away. "Daddy," you turn to Bucky, "we switch." You starting pulling the backpack off Bucky without waiting for a response, causing him to struggle to shuffle around his dippin' dots while laughing at you.

You've safely switched who holds what, now chowing on your dippin' dots in your hand and a y/f/c balloon on your wrist. You're starting to think the backpack isn't so bad, maybe you can convince them to buy you more of the things you want if they see you so excited over them.

Or you could always pout about the backpack and get what you wanted any ways.

1K notes · View notes

just-jordie-things · 4 years ago

Text

Bite Me - Mike Wheeler

word count: 4052 warnings: swearing, unedited and poorly written summary: Mike has harbored a crush on (y/n) since the day they met. And all it takes is a run-in with Billy Hargrove for him to lose his shit and let his feelings be known. (a/n): I just randomly felt the need to write for one of my best boys

___

(y/n) (y/l/n) was a sweet girl. If you asked anyone they’d tell you how kind she is, to everyone she meets. From giving out homework answers when someone forgot, to sharing her lunch, she’d lend a hand no matter who you were. She was a good person, and that’s why Mike was so in love with her.

He had been ever since she’d joined the Party, back in the fourth grade. She’d been bringing in an extra juice box and snack for two weeks, just for Will, and the four boys agreed unanimously to offer her a spot in their group. Mike can still remember the look on her face, the wide grin that showed off her recently lost tooth, and the way she’d giggled and agreed instantly.

They taught her D&D, she was invited into Will’s fort, and taken in by Joyce as one of her own. She was truly one of them.

She didn’t look at him like everyone else did, it’s one of the first things he’d noticed about her, and he could see it every time their eyes met. That annoyed expression that he was used to receiving -from peers, from his parents, even Nancy, even their friends- he’d grown so accustomed to it, until he’d met her.

“Fuck you! Fuck you!” Mike was shouting, about to lunge towards Steve, before (y/n) and Dustin grabbed his arms to yank him back. “We can’t just stay here and-”

“That’s exactly what we’re doing!” Steve shouted back, shoving a scolding finger in the younger boy’s face. “We’re staying here, so I can keep you dipshits safe!”

Steve rolled his eyes before spinning around to leave. Nothing stressed him out like these kids.

“Come on, we’ll figure something else out” (y/n) said quietly, and tugged on Mike’s arm a little more.

His glare softened when he turned to her.

She nods her head off to the side, prompting him to walk off with her. He groaned, but he followed when she pulled him towards the living room. Her hand didn’t let go of his wrist until they were away from everyone else.

“You know nothing you could say right now is gonna make me less pissed off-”

“I know,” (y/n) giggles before he can start ranting again. “But maybe you can just take a breath and pretend to calm down?” She hums, and she laughs again.

Mike groans loudly, loud enough that everyone in the house could hear him, before he threw himself down onto the sofa.

(y/n) just shook her head, and sat next to him.

“Steve’s just trying to keep us safe, Mike,” She says, voice just as soft, but a bit more serious now. “He’s not doing this to make you mad, you get that, right?”

He nods, but hangs his head in his hands.

“Are you… um… upset because El’s out there?” She asked unsurely.

She had a pretty good feeling that Mike had a crush on Eleven. He was distraught when she left, and since she’d come back (a few hours ago) he’s been extremely on edge. Hence the pouting right now.

“I guess,” He shrugged. “I just- I want to just-”

“I know,” (y/n) murmurs again. “I get it”

She admired Mike’s need to help, to get involved. He was brave, if not a little reckless as well. But there was something sweet about his extreme need to help. Even though she was still convinced he was only wired this way because of his crush on Eleven.

Mike looked over to her, finding that loving look on her face. His favorite expression -maybe even his favorite thing- and it somehow calmed him down a bit. She smiled when he hadn’t started grumbling again.

“You good now?” She asked.

“Yeah,” He sighed. “I’ll be fine”

She grinned, and poked his cheek affectionately before getting up from the couch.

“I’m gonna get a glass of water and make sure Steve’s calmed down too,” She told him. “Guess I’m the only sane one around here”

He laughed a bit as she left the room.

“Steve?” (y/n) called gently as she approached her older friend.

He turned to her, an unamused, and rather annoyed, look on his face.

“You alright?”

“I will be, once I’m in a retirement home and have restraining orders placed on all of you,” He answered, making the girl laugh. “Your boyfriend calm down yet?” He asked, and her laughter stopped almost instantly.

Steve was chuckling now at how red her cheeks were turning.

“He’s not-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, heard it before, pretended to believe it before, whatever,” He said, and (y/n) busied herself with getting a drink. “Now’s as good a time as any to just, you know, confess. You’re stuck here anyways”

“No I… I can’t um…” She shakes her head, staring down at the bottle of water she’d grabbed from the fridge. “I can’t do that” She finished weakly.

Steve had known (y/n) for a few years now. He’d met her the first night he’d hung out with Nancy in the Wheeler home, she’d been there with Mike coming up with a new character for D&D. His first impression, as it was for all of the kids, was that she was a geek. And she was, but she was a lot of other things too, and what stood out the most to him was her kindness. She didn’t exactly fit in with the Party like the boys seemed to. Not only because she was a girl, but because she was… friendly.

Mike wasn’t cruel to Steve by any means, but he was a snarky little shit that sometimes made Steve just want to-

“Why the hell do you like that little asshole so much anyways?”

(y/n) was still blushing as she shrugged her shoulders.

He’d picked up on her little crush one of the first times she’d met him. He called her out on it right away too, luckily only Dustin had heard, and he’d laughed it off, thinking it was a joke.

It wasn’t.

“He’s such a piece of shit,” Steve said through a laugh, earning a pointed glare from (y/n). “Obviously he doesn’t treat you the same way he treats, well, everyone else”

“No, he doesn’t,” (y/n) sighed lovingly.

Her eyes glanced out to the living room, where Mike and Lucas were heatedly, and quietly, arguing. She rolled her eyes at the sight, not that it surprised her.

“He’s very, um-”

“Sweet on you?” Steve supplied, earning another look, which quickly turned into a nervous smile. “Yeah, that’s how I’d put it. I don’t know why you’re being such a baby about it. He obviously has a little crush on you too,” Steve said, wagging his finger around in her face. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be such a little gentleman towards you”

(y/n) didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t have to for Steve to know how she felt. He’d always known. She didn’t do a great job at hiding it, but her friends, and Mike for that matter, were oblivious.

They were interrupted by a bright light shining in through the windows, bright enough that she shielded her eyes as she wandered out to the large picture window.

“Who is that?” She asked, as everyone gathered around to figure out who could show up at the Byers’ house right now.

Their question was quickly answered.

“Sinclair!”

The angry, dangerous voice sent a shiver all the way down (y/n’s) spine, before an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. Billy Hargrove was bad news, but him being here, right now, was even worse.

“Stay inside” Steve ordered, shoving the kids down underneath the window.

“I know you’re in there!” Billy screamed again from outside.

“Stay inside” Steve repeated, before walking out of the house.

“What the fuck does he think he’s gonna do?” Lucas asked, as everyone peeked their heads up just enough so they could see what was going on outside.

“He’s gonna fight him” Dustin said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

“He’ll lose,” Max mumbled. All eyes turned to her, but her gaze was trained on her brother, afraid. “He’ll kill him”

“He’ll be okay,” (y/n) whispered to her new friend. “Steve’s a tough guy, and can throw a punch-”

“I’m not so sure he can take one, though” Max said.

(y/n) frowned, and set a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“We’ll be alright” She assured, even though she wasn’t certain what was going to happen.

Steve was now walking down to Billy, who was still yelling, but they couldn’t make out what exactly.

“What’s he saying?” Mike hissed, only to get shushed by Dustin, thus starting a ‘shh!’ war.

(y/n) only let it go on until Billy shoved Steve back by his shoulders.

“Boys!” She scolded, sitting up a little straighter as the fight outside escalated.

Just as she’d sat up, Mike grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her back down.

“You want to get seen and murdered?” He whisper screamed. She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her sweet smile. His brow furrowed at her smile, but he wasn’t quick enough to say anything about it, as everyone’s attention was pulled back to the scene outside.

Billy had shoved Steve to the ground, and was racing up to the house now. He locked eyes with the Party, who all quickly leaned down as low to the floor as they could get.

“Lucas, run!” Max screamed, shoving the boy to haul ass before her brother could storm in and get his hands on him.

When the door swung open so hard it slammed against the wall, Mike grabbed (y/n) by both arms and just about ripped them out of their sockets as he pulled her upwards with him to get her as far fucking away from Billy as possible.

“We have to help Lucas!” She tried telling him while he dragged her off to the other side of the house. “Mike!” She shoved his hands off of her, and gave him a pleading look. “This isn’t like you, come on, he needs our-”

“Where are you, Sinclair!? Come on out!”

She ran away from Mike before he could convince her to hide.

Finding Lucas shoved up against the wall, something in her clicked. Billy’s significantly larger framed towered over the boy, who was clearly afraid, while Billy snarled nasty things right in his face.

“Why don’t you just fuck off?” She yelled at him, before thinking through the consequences of her actions.

Dustin and Mike stared at her in shock. She didn’t curse much, so to hear the foul word come out in her voice was… pretty out of character.

Just as Billy whirled around, likely about to send one knockout punch to her face, Lucas took his moment of distraction to knee him right between the legs. (y/n) squealed, both hands covering her mouth in surprise.

It was then that she took Mike’s advice to run back into the kitchen, and duck down behind the cabinets so she was out of sight.

“You’re fucking dead!” Billy howled in pain, and while every bone in (y/n’s) body told her to cover her ears, close her eyes, and stay hidden, she peeked around the corner anyways.

“No,” A different voice, a calm voice, a familiar voice, spoke up.

(y/n) had never been so relieved to see Steve in her whole life.

“You are” He finished, and took a strong swing of his fist against Billy’s jaw.

The crack that resonated made her wince, and she shut her eyes only for a moment as illy toppled backwards. He didn’t fall, and instead swung back at Steve, starting a very violent fistfight in the Byers’ kitchen.

“Come on, you gotta move” A pair of arms encircled her torso and helped her up from the ground.

Mike’s hands were much more gentle with her now than they had been a few minutes ago, and this time she let him bring her out to the living room, away from the fight.

Her eyes were wide with fear as she watched Billy throw Steve around the kitchen effortlessly. It was terrifying, she felt as though she was about to see him get killed.

When he landed a rather harsh punch, right under Steve’s chin, she cried out for him.

Steve crumbled to the ground, definitely knocked unconscious. He looked dead, though, and as the thought crossed her mind, she felt it again. The snap. Like an instinct buried deep was just let loose.

“You motherfucking piece of shit!” She screamed in a way that Mike, or any of them, had ever heard before, and was charging at Billy in an instant.

It was a hasty decision, grabbing the beautiful vase of flowers off of Joyce Byers’ table and throwing it full force at the back of Billy’s head.

While his head was soaked, and definitely bleeding from the shards of glass, he still managed to stay standing, and was fuming with anger as he glared down at (y/n).

“You made a big mistake little girl” He growled, and began to stalk towards her in a threatening manner.

“Bite me” She snarled back at him, followed by the rash decision to spit on him.

“(y/n) what the hell are you-!?”

Mike’s warning was cut off when Billy reached her, and she kicked him with all the force she could right in the gut. He grunted, but it hardly slowed him down. All she could see was red as she kicked him again, and began to throw her fists against his chest.

She didn’t have an ‘oh fuck’ moment until he grabbed her wrists in his large hands, and kept his hold so firm that tears welled in her eyes from the pressure.

“I’m gonna fucing kill you, little girl” He snarled, teeth bared right in her face.

Oh, fuck.

She tried to yank her body backwards, out of his grip, but he was faster, and stronger, and bigger than her. This resulted in her being thrown, no, slammed into the nearest wall. She cried at the crack of her skull against it, but had no time to react as Billy’s fist was all she could see, before it struck her and knocked her out instantaneously.

She fell like a limp, broken thing, and even when Mike grabbed her and shook her by her shoulders, she remained unconscious. It didn’t matter that Billy was still looking for blood, he pulled her into his lap and held her close against his chest. He was living a delusion thinking he could protect either of them if Billy came back for more, but he didn’t care. He was gonna keep her safe now.

Max had plunged the syringe into her brother’s neck, and was threatening him with Steve’s bat, but Mike hardly paid them any attention.

“(y/n), wake up, come on,” His voice was barely a mumble, and he hated to admit it but his throat was growing hot and tight with his tears choking him up. “C-come on open your eyes” He stuttered.

He pushed her hair out of her face so that it wouldn’t get sticky from the blood running out of her nose. He wiped away the red substance with his sleeve, not bothered by it at all.

“We’re going!” Lucas called, and rushed over to Mike to help him carry her. “Dustin Will and Max are getting Steve in the back. I’ll help you with her”

Mike didn’t have time to question anything Lucas had just said, and hastily went along with the plan. They looped (y/n’s) arms over both of their shoulders, and made their way out to Billy’s car. ___

Everything.

Hurt.

It was the first thing that (y/n) was aware of when she came to. Her legs, her arms, her torso, her head-

Oh shit my head hurts.

She groaned softly, reaching a shaky hand up to prod around her eye. She wasn’t exactly sure why, but it was definitely bruised. The rest of her body had to have been bruised too.

She suddenly shot upward as the car went over a bump, and that’s when she realized she was even in a car. Why was she in a car…?

Her head rolled against the seat, and she was met with someone’s shoulder against her cheek. She winced at the pressure, probably because her cheek was bruised and bleeding.

“(y/n)?” A gentle, but distant voice called. It sounded kind of hazy, like the person talking was miles away, and not right next to her. “Hey, can you hear me?”

Her eyes met Mike’s round and worried brown ones, and a lazy smile tugged on the edges of her lips. Even though his brow was furrowed, and there was a deep frown on his lips.

“What happened?” She asked, voice scratchy and quiet.

“What happened?” Mike repeated, much louder than he intended. She flinched, and while an apologetic look swept over his face, he didn’t apologize. “(y/n), you attacked Billy Hargrove” He told her in a grave tone.

“I did?” She asked proudly, her smile returning.

“No- don’t- jesus (y/n) what the hell are you on?” He asked. “He almost killed you, I mean, look at you!”

“Can you please stop yelling dipshit?” Max called from the front. “I’m trying to focus here!”

(y/n’s) eyes widened, and it dawned on her that Max was the one driving. But just as she opened her mouth to protest being in the car right now, Mike continued on with his angry little rant.

“I mean, seriously, what the hell, (y/n/n)? Did you think you were gonna win? Did you really think that you were gonna take him down?”

Her brow crinkled and her eyes welled with tears, both from all the pain and his cruel words.

“Do you even realize that he could’ve killed you? Huh? I mean, I really thought he did for a second. Do you even care?”

“What’s your problem right now?” The girl whimpered

“You are! You’re my problem,” He said, not thinking through the fact that she was crying right now. “That was really stupid (y/n), really reckless”

“Oh, because you care so much about playing it safe,” She scoffed.

It was getting awkward for the others in the car, minus Steve, who was still knocked out.

“All you wanted to do tonight was to get out there- well- well here we are, Mike!” She shouted. It hurt her head to yell, and Max was yelling again too, but she drowned it out. “Hope you’re freakin’ happy” She mumbled, holding her hands against the side of her head.

Mike sighed, and pulled her hands away from her face, staring at her seriously.

“(y/n)...” He said softly. “I’m sorry it’s just…” He let out one more heavy breath to prepare himself before diving in. “Look at yourself (y/n), you’re hurt and there’s- there’s nothing I can do about it”

(y/n’s) brow furrowed as she stared back at him.

“What do you mean?” She mumbled weakly.

“I mean I- you… I have to… ugh” He groaned, clearly frustrated by his inability to form a coherent thought.

“You have to… what?” She hummed, face leaning around his shoulder tiredly.

They were close enough that their whispers were only heard by them. And somehow, it felt like they were the only people in the car.

“Mike?” She whispered when he hadn’t said anything yet.

His eyes flickered over her battered face. The black eye, her split lip, her bruised and cut cheek, his heart broke looking at how much pain she must be in right now. He couldn’t believe he let this happen.

“...protect you” He answered lamely.

“Protect me?” She repeats, soft, and loving. “From what?”

“Apparently everything from interdimensional monsters to senior year bullies” He said, making her laugh softly.

“You don’t have to do that,” She said with a small shake of her head. “I’m alright, I will be anyways. You don’t have to worry so much about me-”

“See I do though- you- you make it impossible not to worry. I’m just always- I’m a mess, okay?”

She giggled again, and rose a brow.

“I’m not following…you sound kinda crazy Mike-”

“I love you, okay?” He told her.

She choked.

“And I just need you to not get yourself hurt… okay?”

She’d never heard him speak so quietly, so nervously.

“You- you’re- um-”

“No more fighting people- and-and things- bigger than you, deal?”

His hands cupped around her face, thumb stroking over the bruise on her cheekbone in a comforting sort of way. She swore she was melting into his touch, for a moment she forgot all about the agony her body was in.

She didn’t think twice about leaning off his shoulder so she could reach up and plant her lips against his. It’s a gentle kiss, because her lips are sore and she was a bit nervous.

Mike’s eyes widened, and he was sure this wasn’t real. No, it couldn’t be real, there was no way (y/n) was kissing him. Maybe he was the one that got knocked out? And this is all some kind of twisted nightmare-dream?

But it was real, she was kissing him. And it was… wow it was great.

She’d almost pulled away, but he pulled her right back in, and shut his eyes to kiss her properly this time.

If he was being honest, he wanted nothing more than to just take her and pour every ounce of love he had for her into this kiss, but it would probably only hurt her more.

They were cut off by a low whistle, and (y/n) turned to see Steve, who had apparently been sat next to her this whole time, and Dustin, who was sat on his other side, both giving the pair very different looks.

Despite his face looking just as messed up as hers, Steve pulled a sly grin, and winked.

Dustin, however, looked like he might vomit.

“What. The. Fuck!?” His voice cracked when he screamed, making both (y/n) and Mike jump a bit in their seat. “You guys have been- been- hooking up this whole time!?”

“What? No!” (y/n) argued back, shaking her head and trying to kill the idea in Dustin’s head before it escalated, but it seemed to be too late for that.

“You have! You’ve been frenching!”

“Oh my god,” Mike rolled his eyes. “Dustin, shut up”

“Can we save this argument for later, fellas?” Max hollered from the front. “I don’t think that this is the most important thing going on-”

“W-wait a- wait a minute- wait a-!” Steve’s eyes widened as he started to panic. “No! No way! Stop the car right now! Who let her drive-!?”

His screaming was abruptly cut off by the car swerving, causing everyone to scream now.

“Drive on the right side of the road! Jesus Christ we’re all gonna die!”

(y/n) wrapped both arms around Mike, one behind his neck and the other around his torso, keeping her secure. In case this car were to crash, her seatbelt, and Mike, would anchor her in place. Well, she hoped it would anyways.

He reacted quickly, embracing her tightly.

“I’ve been thinking I would get killed by a demogorgon,” She mumbled to him. “Guess it’ll just be a plain old car crash that takes me out”

He chuckled, but shook his head at her.

“No one’s dying, we had a deal”

She glanced up at him, a sweet smile on her lips. And she waited for him to look back down at her to say anything.

“I love you too” She hummed, just soft enough that Dustin (luckily) couldn’t hear.

The smile that grew on Mike’s face was brighter than she’d ever seen from him before. (y/n) was so relieved that her feelings were returned, that she felt she could go back to sleep, if she wasn’t getting nervous all over again about what was going to happen.

All they had to do now was to kill a monster and save their friends.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

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