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fandomwritingbit · 1 year ago

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👻Hallowe'en Special👻

Ghosting.

Michael Afton x fem!reader.

Synop: After being abandoned by a friend at a stellar Halloween party, reader hooks up with someone in a Ghostface costume... turns out to be Michael Afton. This is a very distant sequel to Hateful with both Mike and reader being arseholes with an enemies to lovers thing going on.

Warnings: drinking, swearing, horniness, smut, public sex.

You’ve been looking forward to tonight for months. A friend of a friend spread the word about their ‘killer halloween party’ almost as soon as August rolled around and rumours of fancy dress, live music and drinking games followed suit. It sounded like just what you needed to perk you up after weeks of studying.

And now, looking at your costume laid on your bed, you can’t help but grin, it’s cheesy and a little old-fashioned, but hey, if it ain’t broke…

You’ve spent much too long getting it just right, using several sharpies, glitter and lipstick to perfect the face on your blanket, huge eyelashes on top of your eye cut-outs and big pouting lips. A fucking perfect, tarted-up blanket ghost. You complete the set-up with a pair of fishnets and chunky heels, unable to hold in your giggles when you check out the outfit in your mirror.

“Oh my god, you look crazy.” Your friend Gemma laughs, looking at herself in the reflection next to you, her playboy bunny costume a much more basic choice than yours. One could argue a more sensible one too, because you'd had to layer up so all your secrets couldn't be exposed by one big gust of wind.

“Yeah, crazy hot.” You put your hands on your hips and pose, both of you tittering like schoolgirls. It is funny, but you’re aware that the pre-drinks you’ve had are probably making it seem funnier than it is.

Your friend grabs a jacket and slings it over her shoulders, gesturing with her head that it’s time to go. “Can you even see anything?” She asks as you join her outside, looking at you sceptically as you turn around to lock your apartment door, missing the keyhole on the first try.

If she could see your face, your eye rolling would be very evident. “Yeah. I know what I’m doing.” You bring your hands to the lips of the blanket, “I even cut a hole so I can stick a straw through.” Showing her by sticking your tongue through the gap, though quickly cringing at the feeling and taste of the fabric.

“Oooh, she’s prepared.” Gemma says sarcastically, before putting a hand on your shoulder and all but forcing you to get a move on, you don’t want to be more than fashionably late after all.

One giggly taxi ride later, you and her are struggling to get out of the car without flashing anyone. And then, you're heading up the front steps to the house, where the party is already in the swing of things. A werewolf sits next to an inflatable flamingo on the steps, one smoking, the other vaping, you’re admiring their costumes when you realise the wolf is a lad from your tutor, so you stop to tell him how amazing he looks.

“Come on, y/n.” Your friend again takes your arm, her voice faux-whining. “We haven’t even got drinks yet, you can mingle in a second.”

You let her guide you, though not without a sharp glare, quickly turning to the wolf before you go, “See you later, Joe!”

As you step away, she grins at you, almost knocking over a witch’s drink sitting beside her on the top step. “Really gushing over Hoe-seph, huh?” She wiggles her eyebrows, her tone a little condescending.

You can’t help but laugh, “Shut up, you knob.” you nudge her, making her wobble on her huge heels. “You’ve got to admit he looks great.”

She scoffs in response. “Sure, he does. But it’s fucking Joe! We can do better tonight.”

…

So much for that, you think to yourself as you sip probably the cheapest lager you’ve ever tried through a curly straw. Not even an hour after you and her had arrived, she’d found a group of people she knew from law studies and buggered off with them. Right now, you can see her bunny ears peeking over the crowd and swaying slightly to the music.

You probably should have anticipated being on your lonesome.

Though that doesn’t make it any less shit.

“You alright, y/n? You here all on your own?” Someone you recognise talks loudly over the music, pulling you out of your silent thought.

You sigh, though they probably can’t hear the extent of it. “Yeah… Gemma pulled her signature move and left me in the dust.” You try to explain, having to repeat the words twice before they understand. When they do, their expression shifts in pity and they put a hand on your shoulder.

“Awww, come drink with us then, screw her.” You pull a face as you consider, before nodding and following them over to the kitchen where they and six others stand around an island drinking. It’s much brighter in there with the big lights on and you blink after being so used to the muted multi-colour lights of the living room.

Your new buddy catches your reaction. “Hey, don’t let the light sober you up. What are you drinking?” They ask, and man, you really need to buck up and ask their name.

“Uhh… whatever this is.” You twist the bottle around so they can see the label and their expression instantly reveals disapproval. Which you completely understand.

“You want another one of them?” A bloke standing next to the fridge pipes up, who you'll come to learn is called Ash.

“...Not really.” You admit and they laugh.

“Vod and coke?” Your saviour prompts with a huge bottle of smirnoff in their hand and you beam under your costume.

“Now we’re talking.”

As enjoyable as the change in drink was, it didn’t take much for it to take effect and pretty soon you’re hanging off the arm of someone you've just formed a strong drunken friendship with, and singing along to someone’s halloween playlist.

The drunkenness itself wasn’t so bad, everyone else was too and surprisingly this group was an excellent match of personalities. The main problem was that drink makes you horny. Like seriously horny. Horny enough to scan these people for a viable and interested partner. But you swiftly realise the seven of you are made up of two couples, someone that doesn't date girls and that Ash guy.

You struggle to think of who around could be your hook up. Yes, you could go find your werewolf friend, or his flamingo buddy, but that doesn’t feel too appealing.

“I’m gonna go outside… I want to smoke.” You try not to slur your words, and pat the arm of the person that led you to this drunken safe haven as you walk, or rather stumble, past. The struggle is real, especially in these heels, but you manage it. Squeezing through masses of guests and trying not to get decked by tipsy people dancing, some of them shouted sorrys at you, others stared after your form like you were in the wrong.

The cool night air was pleasant and you soak it all in as you check faces around. You recognise lots of people even through costumes but you know them too well for a quick drunken hook up, and there's no need to make your social circles awkward. But, god, you’re thirsting.

Moving down the steps and being really careful not to slip, you pull a packet of cigarettes out from under your blanket, the box warm from being pressed against your skin for so long. Then you go down the side of the house, flinching when a motion-sensor light kicks into life and illuminates the path in a dingy yellow light. It’s like the party doesn’t exist back here, the noise completely dying when you turn the corner into the back garden.

And that’s when you see him. Some guy in a full Ghostface get-up, one glove pulled up to let him scroll through his Instagram feed. You can’t help but grin under your covering, you have a special place in your heart for Ghostface, the movie one of your favourites for many reasons. Not all of them wholesome.

Placing the cigarette through the slit in your costume, you light up. Taking yourself over to slasher and standing beside him.

“Uhh hey…” He turns to you tilting his head, no doubt trying to figure out who you were under your mask and failing. “That costume is-”

You smirk as you cut him off, “Amazing? I know. Proving to be a little inconvenient though.”

“Yeah I’ll bet. Do I know you?” You make a humming noise, trying to decide if you want to know who he is. There’s something really hot about the anonymity of it, hell you can play with the idea of a Matthew Lillard or Skeet Ulrich under there. And just the thought of that spurs you on immensely.

“I’m not sure. But there’s fun in that.” The guy nods, but you can imagine a look of confusion under that sexy mask. You’re not usually this bold, but liquid courage and boredom can make anyone risqué.

The two of you fall silent for a moment, before you break it teasingly, “Well, aren’t you going to ask me?”

Ghostface scoffs in hesitation before he bites the lure. “Ask you what?”

You dramatically place a hand on your chest as you pretend to gasp. “... The Question. From the movie, you know, the one Ghostface is famous for?”

“Ohh.” he laughs as he catches on. A hand digging in his robe for a small black device that looks like a radio. He holds it up to the mask and does as you ask, “... What’s your favourite scary movie?” The voice changer is scarily movie accurate, that iconic voice that is the perfect mixture of terrifying and ridiculously hot.

You gasp for real this time, losing yourself in giggles, “That is awesome, holy shit.” You move a little closer, deciding that yeah, you want to test the waters with this fella. “Scream…” You answer, “Because I think Ghostface is really hot.”

The flirtation in your tone isn’t hard to miss and although he’s surprised you just walked up to him and staked a claim, he certainly isn’t complaining. “Yeah?”

You nod, alcohol making you brave enough to lay all your cards on the table. You lift up the hem of your blanket slowly to show him how good your upper thighs look in these fishnets. “You interested?”

He laughs, “Hell yeah.”

Right there against the back of the house you pull the sheet up over your hips and your little shorts down, grinning in excitement as you watch him pull his gloves off and set about doing the same. He tries to help you take the fishnets down, but at this point you just hook your fingers into the holes and rip them enough to allow him access to your slick seam. “Fuck.” he breaths when his fingers come into contact with your wetness. How the hell has he gotten this lucky tonight?

The vodka in your veins doesn’t let you feel the cold, right now there’s nothing you want more than a good fuck and you hope that whoever is gripping your hips right now can do that for you. And judging by how quickly he finds your clit and begins to slowly rub circles, he absolutely can.

It’s clumsy, but exactly what you want and pretty soon you’re arching your back and pulling at the waistband of his boxers. You free his cock and he’s delightfully big and thick in your hands, so much so that you have to commend yourself, you really picked a good one here. Your hurried grabbing of his dick pushes him to press into you, hands cupping under your behind and lifting you to his perfect angle. It’s unexpected and you grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself, leaving him to slide his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick, before pressing firmly inside you.

“Shit-” You hiss instantly, a buzz in your core becoming apparent at the gorgeous feeling of him filling you up. You move your hips against him as much as you can, spurring him on to a rough pace of fucking in and out of you. Neither of you consider that you’re completely exposed, lewdly hooking up outside next to someone’s house, anyone could come round the back and catch the two of you but that’s the furthest thing from your mind.

His grunts match the pace that’s quickly bringing both of you to your ends, gradually becoming whiny as he tries to make you come before finishing, but your tight walls are making that fairly difficult, as are the sweet sounds he’s pulling from you. He doesn’t realise how close you are and so the second he again starts to stroke your clit, the waves of your climax hit you hard. Your pussy sporadically tightens around him as you cum, your head tilting back against the wall and just like that he has to pull out, his release immediately hot and sticky on the top of your thighs. He thrusts into his hand as he finishes, groans dripping from his lips.

By now you’re recovered enough to be annoyed that he’s covered your lower body in cum and you push against him to get him off of you. He obeys and leans against the wall next to you, both of you staring forward for a moment of realisation. How the Hell are you supposed to go back in there with this costume fucking sticking to you? God, you probably should have discussed logistics beforehand but hindsight is 20/20, huh? Your still tipsy brain nearly laughs at the situation but stops when the bloke next to you starts shifting in his costume, grabbing at his mask in an almost panicky way.

He manages to pry it off and closes his eyes for a moment. The very moment he does you practically jump 30 feet in the air. A gross knowledge snapping through you so fast, you swear you touch all five bases on the grief scale. Your Ghostface was fucking Michael. Michael Pissing Afton. “Oh. Fucking Christ.” You snap out of nowhere, making Mike flinch.

“Woah, what? What’s wrong?” Your reaction is so strong he thinks you must be in pain of something and swiftly turns towards you, hands hovering over you like you were about to hit the deck.

You neglect to answer him, just angrily pulling the blanket up and tearing it off your form with an exasperated sigh. Only Michael Afton could make you completely sober in the span of two seconds.

He watches with wide eyes and almost winces when he reaches the same conclusion you did. “Y/n?” He laughs a little in surprise, still staring as you toss your costume on the floor and stand there in the tiniest shorts and top going. “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

You scoff, “I didn’t fucking know, did I?” You say loudly, the silence following it deafening. Honest to God, how didn’t you realise sooner? You definitely should recognise him from your fling nearly a year ago- must be the alcohol, but still, if you’d have known you probably would have shopped around a bit before settling for Michael Fucking Afton.

A stupid smug smirk coats his lips, that pinch between your brows is just funny. He speaks through a chuckle, “I actually can’t believe it’s you… How’re you doing, it’s been a while?”

The sharp gaze you fix him with just makes him laugh harder. “Yeah, that was intentional.”

And there was that side of you that got on his last nerve, props to your attitude for being able to ruin a perfectly good shag. “Why are you pissed off? You came on to me.” He asks the questions incredulously, his tone irritating.

“Huh, bet that’s a first.” You retort, a condescending smile increasing tenfold when he scowls.

How in the name of all that is holy did this happen?

A/n: Hope you enjoyed, stay tuned for the next one xxx

#fnaf #michael afton #michael afton x reader #michael afton x you #michael afton smut #FWB's halloween event #fnaf smut

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findafight · 1 year ago

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I think the most insufferable part of the “Steve is the worst” refrain is that even when the change is acknowledged, they constantly make out like he’s on thin ice.

But the funniest part has to be that they write this whilst also having pretty much every new main cast member they add to show take a shine to him;

Billy just wants Steve to pay attention to him (and was bitterly disappointed that Steve was just some dude and not the raging asshole that everyone’s told him about)

Max hates teenage boys, but concludes she has found the one good one

Robin enjoys his company despite herself and becomes soul bonded to him

Eddie ends up being straight (I’m sorry) up *enchanted* by Steve, and we have a whole scene of him trying desperately to communicate this to him - of course Nancy wants you, dude! Who wouldn’t?

I know we’ve joked about Joe’s charisma, but canonically Steve’s must be *otherworldly*. Clearly the only reason Nancy didn’t let him fuck that old man was because the writers needed to make things difficult for them.

The show simultaneously trying to remind us Steve used to be a dick but is actually the most charming lad in all the land and is everybody's favourite most specialest boy. Like they try to make us remember Steve being mean but then it's also telling us he's a silly billy driving his bestie to school without questioning it and not knowing she doesn't even know how to drive. How are we supposed to think he's gonna backslide.

Lmaooo billy being disappointed Steve's not an asshole. It's no fun winning for him if it wasn't actually a competition :(

Max: no teenage boys allowed

Steve and Lucas: *exist*

Max: okay I will make an exception because they seem very nice

Dustin just consistently telling everyone he meets Steve is the coolest most badass person alive. Can you imagine the hero worship Suzie has heard?? (Suzie is also a Steve Stan and she hasn't even MET him)

Robin spends one month in close proximity to Steve and she's like well. Guess he's my best friend now!! And she was probably actively trying to not like him! And yet here we are! She liked him before they got tortured and she was probably so ticked off about how she, too, has fallen platonically for the Harrington charm. Not fair. Embarrassing.

Eddie spends less than a week around Steve and immediately joins his little cheer squad with Robin and Dustin. Like, if they wanted us to know that Steve was a dick to people for no reason in highschool Eddie would've been the person to use to demonstrate that, or the tension between who he was and who he is, but they don't! Eddie just admits he made assumptions about Steve without knowing much about him other than his rich parents and big house and popularity with girls, (saying more about himself than Steve) and then immediately jumps on the Steve bandwagon because now he can't understand why anyone who spent any amount of time with Steve wouldn't like him!

Even Nancy wasn't immune to Steve's charms in S4, and she had previously broken up with him messily! But all it took was a little bit of the town in danger and Steve trying to make sure everyone's on the same page while Looking Good for her to be Gazing Lustfully at him. That's why S2 and S3 had them separate for so long. Too long around him and she'd remember that she does find him cute and funny and brave and also hot.

Reasons Nancy stopped Steve from Fucking That Old Man: 1) writers needed them finding out info to be more of a struggle 2) they also probably didn't want a middle aged supposedly professional man sleeping with one of their teenage characters I guess 3) Nancy would have been wild with jealousy about the whole thing and stancy revival would have been much more obvious earlier, much more Nancy driven, and much funnier.

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve and eddie #steve and max #stobin #stancy #sorry anon but honestly the set up for a little stancy here i couldnt resist #findaanswers #anonasaurus

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lovingthereign25 · 2 years ago

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Reconciliation 🖤

Part 2

How can we be lovers if we can't be friends!

The next morning I woke up still in Joe's hotel, I looked over and see Joe still sleeping peacefully. Without waking him I slowly slip out of bed gathering my clothes and belongings. I quietly leave Joe's room. I get back to my room thinking I'm in the clear….not a chance I'm taken back by Lana.

" Bitch you scared the hell out of me " I said holding my chest

"And where have you been?" She asks

'I went to the gym early" I tried to lie

"Liar…you're still in your gear from last…." She started stopping mid sentence. Then the look I hated most washed over her face. Her I was right face!

''You spent the night with Joe didn't you?" She asks smirking

''So what if I did he's my husband still…so it's kinda like recycling " I say

"Recycling? I truly hate you" she laughs

"Lana in all seriousness it was just a quick little fix nothing changed it meant nothing' I say heading towards the shower.

As Lana and I headed to the car that was waiting for us I spotted Joe and Solo who were walking right towards us

"Lana I'll meet you in the car" I say trying to head out before Joe noticed me

"Y/n!" I heard shit he saw me but I kept walking as if I hadn't heard.

"Y/n, hey " I feel Joe now turning me around

"Hey, I thought I heard my name" I lie

Joe leaned in to kiss me but I moved going in to hug Solo

"Hey, Big shot, how's the main roster treating you?" I smile

'Good good I'm blessed to be doing this with the fam" Solo answered nodding towards Joe

Solo is pulled away by Xavier leaving just Joe and I.

" You slipped out early this morning huh?" He asks

" Yea, sorry I needed a shower" I say trying not to make eye contact

"My room had a shower, but hey I get it" he says " don't want anyone to know you're screwing your husband" .

"Joe, it's complicated." I whisper

"Complicated?...right" Joe says

" Joe…." I start but he cuts me off

" It's fine Y/n, I'll pick the kids up tomorrow" he says walking away.

A few days later I was talking to Lana and Brandi who were two of my best friends about an arrangement Paul and Stephanie had offered me about coming back to team with Lita and Becky for WrestleMania in a few months.

"This is so exciting…Y/n I'm so happy for you" Brandi smiled

" We should celebrate" Lana chimed in

" What exactly are we celebrating?" We turn to see Joe holding one of our twins, our son Karter. Who was a spitting Image of his father, just like all 3 of our kids were.

"Y/n, is gonna have a WrestleMania match with Becky and Lita against Damage Control" Lana nearly yelled.

"Hey, that's great!Right bubs?" Joe smiled bouncing Karter in his arms

"Oh I gotta go, I forgot I had to pick up Liberty." Brandi says

"Yea me too I have to meet Rusev for dinner" Lana says as they both come over to hug then Joe.

"Mama, can daddy help me with my homework today?' our 7 year old Leilani asked

"That's up to your daddy sweet girl." I smile at her

"Daddy, will you stay and help me?" She asked Joe .

I couldn't help but smile knowing Joe couldn't say no to her especially with those big beautiful brown eyes of hers

"I sure will, let me put your brother in his playpen" he smiled at his little girl.

"Joe, if you want you can stay for dinner too." I say

"Sounds good….thanks!" He nods heading into the living room.

After dinner Joe put the babies down. While

I got Leilani in the bath and ready for bed.

"Karsyn kept grabbing her ear before bed thinking she might be getting a ear infection" Joe says startling me a little

"Shit, you scared me" I almost yell

" My bad. Hey, I just wanna say how proud I am of you, this comeback these moments you're getting you deserve all of it" he smiled

"Thanks, by the way I'm sorry for how we left things the other day at the hotel. It's just this whole separation before the divorce gets to me sometimes and well I'm just sorry if I made you feel some type of way" I say

"It gets to me too Y/n, I just don't think this is the right thing to do anymore, maybe we should try a little harder to make"us " work". He says

"Joe,I don't think we can fix this " I reply

"How could you say that? Is that what you honestly think?" He asks

"Joe how can we be lovers if we can't even be friends…this is the longest we've gotten along in weeks" I say

" What if we just agree to start over ya know star fresh" he says

" When we try to work it out we never get it right..we must be crazy to keep this up" I say trying my hardest to hold back tears.

I loved Joe. I honestly and truly did but us as a couple just didn't work.

" Y/n, we belong together. That's what I know" he says stepping closer

"Joe what if we aren't though" I whisper

Joe kisses me without warning backing me up against the counter, his hands slowly moving up my body stopping at my face. Stopping for a brief second to place me on top of the counter.

"Joe" I let out

" I got you baby" he says kissing my neck

" No, Joe we have to stop sex can't fix everything" I say

"True, but an orgasm will help with all the stress from arguing " he says, connecting our lips again.

#roman reigns imagine #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfiction #reconciliation

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quismetarc · 2 years ago

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heeeeeey girl, i think we're like super close now so i think it's only right i tell you that these pants are barking up the wrong tree haha if u get what i'm saying! it's all good u dont need to feel embarrassed, all the new mommies went through the same thing and i could not just let you walk around looking like that........... <3 have i told u about this ABSOLUTE FABBBBB yoga class? u should comeeeeeeeee, it'll work miracles!

did sherry conrad just call me fat ? again ?

i cannot believe that i have spent the past eight months brown-nosing the neighbourhood momfluencer's too-tight-to-be-natural ass only to find myself back at square one. this was not progress, this was an eternal damnation that i had willingly signed myself up for. the things i do for my family, the things i do for forty. henry, not forty. not. forty. well, fuck it. what did it matter at this point anyways ? it’s not like he had a social media brand to maintain like sherry’s sugar free, gluten free, lactose intolerant as a choice, keto diet children. god i hated her. i should’ve stuck that fork in her eye when i had the chance. the one time i reel in my intrusive thoughts ( thanks for nothing therapy ! ) only to be stuck with a social leech who had promoted me to the title of new best friend. sherry was probably dying for me to put it in my instagram bio, like i should be honoured. i’m disgusted.

i give her a tight lipped smile and reach out to place a hand on her arm. ❝ i appreciate you and how you always keep it so real with me. ❞ i’m taking my couple’s therapy lessons on communication and applying it liberally to the real world because it’s not joe and i who need fixing, it’s all of madre fucking linda. and if you can solve the root of the problem then you’re cured from the whole illness itself. i can’t wait to be cured of this shit hole town. ❝ i haven’t had the heart to tell you, but i think you should lay off the muffins today. love handles sound a lot cuter than they look. ❞ hashtag girls looking out for girls. i reach over and slide the tray away from her with a gentle smile as if i’m delivering terminal news to a dying loved one. sorry for the sleepless nights and calorie counting to come, sherry. ❝ count me in for yoga though ! ❞

#sherryconrad #i hate you for this still losing my mind about it HASJKFA

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collectingtruths · 1 year ago

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Part 10: Let’s Back Up Twenty Nine Years

“A life might end, but sometimes their case lives forever.”

― Charlie Donlea

July 14th, 1994 - Route 51 RV Park, Darlington, Pennsylvania

Don’t stay out all day again, Sasha. [She shook her head as she walked away from the RV, her mom shouted as she waved a hand back at her. She wasn’t a baby. She was fourteen and this wasn’t the first time they stayed at this place. Every summer her family came to the same RV park to spend two of the three months of her summer vacation. And she hated it. Her friends got to go to cool places. Her best friend Tina got to go to New York to see the Statue of Liberty and all the skyscrapers, but most importantly, she got to shop. They didn’t have a lot of money though and her mom always said that this was what memories should’ve been about. Not shopping. Sees how much she knows. She sighed, but decided to make the best of it.

She was going to head down to the small vending shed, grab a few snacks and then walk the thirty minutes to the campground pool. She had worn her swimsuit under her cut off jean shorts and her oversized Aerosmith t-shirt that she had tied in a knot in the back. She had tucked several dollar bills in her back pocket for the vending machine and had clipped her yellow Sony Walkman to her front pocket and shoved the tiny earbuds in her ears. The song Cat’s In the Cradle by Ugly Kid Joe played loud enough that she couldn’t hear the traffic that occasionally zoomed down the highway.

She reached the vending shed around ten minutes after leaving the RV park, which was pretty typical and she had come there so much that she already knew what was going to be offered. She fiddled with her sun faded friendship bracelets while she waited her turn in line and when she was through, she was a few dollars lighter, but had an ice cold Pepsi Crystal, a sleeve of Starbursts and two quarter bags of honey barbecue twists. The plastic bag swung from her arm as she set out toward the pool. She’d need a pass to get in, but the boy who worked at the gate always let her by. He was so cute. His hair was a few shades lighter than her own, but that could’ve been because of how much time he spent in the sun and on the rare occasion he wasn’t wearing sunglasses, he had the prettiest shade of green eyes she had ever seen. He was almost exactly one year older than her. She had learned that by speaking with some of the girls that hung at the pool. Maybe this was the year that she’d get a boyfriend and she could tell Tina all the fun things they did over the summer. Her very own Danny Zuko.They had just finished helping the senior class production in June, so the songs were still fresh in her mind. And even though she preferred the style of music her dad listened to, she thought the story was real romantic.

Just as she suspected, Carter let her walk right on in. Didn’t even charge her. He even asked her if they could catch up when he went on break and even though she was excited, she just nodded and gave him a quick “sure” as a response. She posted up at the far edge of the pool where she was just far enough away from the noise, but where Carter could still see her. She pulled her shirt off, laid it on the grass before she stepped out of her shoes and unbuttoned her jeans and let them fall to her feet. She sat on her shirt like it was a towel, which she didn’t bring, put her earbuds back in and then shielded her blue eyes from the sun to see Carter grinning at her. She smiled back and then fell back onto her shirt to let the sun warm and tan her skin.

She had taken a dip in the pool several times to wet her skin and cool off, but it was the break she shared with Carter that had her stomach doing all those weird flips. They spent twenty minutes making out behind the lifeguard shed before he had to get back to work. But before they parted, he made her promise she’d come back to see him tomorrow. She was definitely looking forward to it. Tina was going to lose it. She spent the remainder of her time eating her snacks and she even stayed for the last evening swim before she knew it was time for them to close up. She still had the half hour walk back to the RV park and it was already starting to get dark and she would already be walking a little slower after spending a whole day in the sun. With her earbuds back in, shorts and shoes back on, she wrapped her t-shirt around her waist and started the walk back toward the park where they were staying.

She hadn’t been walking along the side of the road for long, but her feet were already hurting. The sun had dipped way down behind the trees and the faint glow was just above the top of them and the batteries in her Walkman were slowly dying because the words to “Cryin” were starting to sound more demonic by the second. She sighed and pulled them out of her ears but let the cord drape over her shoulder. She saw lights coming from behind her and just a few moments later the car started to roll slowly beside her, the passenger’s side window was already down.

The guy driving was decently young and had a straight jaw with no sign of a beard, his darker hair was brushed back on the sides, not long but not short like her dad wore and the top part looked like it was used to being brushed back but the wind had brought it down toward his eyebrows. His smile was nice though, his teeth were perfectly straight and white and for some reason it made her a little less nervous.] If you're gonna ask for directions, I can’t help you. I only know what’s along this road. [He chuckled, the sound again seemed nice and her heartbeat, which had been going a little faster, seemed to settle. “I don’t need any directions, thanks though. You know it’s dangerous for you to be walking out here when it’s getting dark? Trucks and things along this road might not see you. You could get hit.” She shook her head.] I stay far enough over. Besides, I don’t have much further to go. [She chewed the inside of her cheek. “How much is further? I’ve got a little sister about your age and I’d hate for her to be walking out here alone like this. Let me give you a lift.” She shook her head quickly.] No, that’s alright. I’m just up here a little bit. It’s really ok. [She smiled again, a little bit of nervousness came back, but maybe he really did have a sister her age. He didn’t look like he was /that/ much older than her. Definitely over eighteen, had to be. But still…her dad would be so pissed if she got in a car with a stranger. “How about I give you a ride to the vending shed? It’s just right up the way.” By this time he had stopped driving and was slightly pulled onto the side of the road. He must be from around there for him to know about the shed which was still about fifteen minutes of a walk up the road. “It’ll be a five minute drive instead of fifteen. I’m going that way anyway. Like I said, I’ve got a little sis and it would kill me if she was walking out here. And it’s getting dark. Come on, it’s alright.” She hesitated for a few minutes, but the ache in her feet and the heat on her skin was already making her so tired. She sighed and then reached for the door and opened it before climbing in and closing it.

She looked over at him and his eyes seemed so much darker than they did when she was standing outside. Maybe it was because it was getting darker outside. His smile seemed to fall for a second. His hands gripped the wheel, but he hadn’t moved the car just yet. He seemed as though he was thinking through something, but then the smile returned and he turned the wheel the tiniest bit and pressed on the gas. The conversation became nonexistent as he drove them down the stretch of road, they had only passed one or two other cars and as soon as the shed came into view, her stomach started to settle. She had made it. Everything was fine…except it wasn’t. He didn’t slow down. With wide blue eyes, she saw the shed whirl by and then her stomach sank.] Stop the car. Please…stop the car. [She could already feel tears starting to burn behind her eyelids and her chest started to rise and fall before he spoke again. “Didn’t your daddy ever teach you never to get into cars with strangers?” She turned her head to scream out of the window, hoping that someone, anyone might hear her and at the very least call the cops with what they heard, but then she felt a sudden burst of pressure and pain radiate from the back of her head. The trees which had been whizzing by in a blur seemed to start to fade as her head tilted forward. She could hear his voice coming in and out and she knew he must’ve hit her in the back of the head. “Shh…don’t cry. It’s alright. I’ll take care of you.” A moment later, she felt another blow to the side of her head, her body knocked into the inside of the door.] Sorry, momma…[Her eyes closed as her body got heavy, darkness crept in as she slipped unconscious.]

~Present Day~ Beaver County, Pennsylvania.

[She looked over at the worn expression on Faye Beekman’s face. Hard line had set in, there was a spattering of gray hair framing her face and the hand that lifted the cigarette to her lips was covered in paper thin skin that revealed the blue and purple veins beneath. “There’s not much more I can tell you today about that day than I did back in 1994.”]

I understand that, but I’m trying to find the person or people responsible for your daughter’s death. And anything you can remember, even after all these years might be able to shed new light on this case. [She watched the smoke billow from the woman’s mouth before she tapped the cigarette near the ashtray letting the stack of ashes fall into the black plastic. “I told her not to go far. I told her not to stay out all day, but she loved that damn pool. I couldn’t drive her, my husband had the car apart, he was working on it. I should’ve told her to keep her damn ass at home!” Faye closed her eyes and then opened them a few moments later. “It’s not her fault. It’s mine. As a parent, it’s your job to keep your kids safe, but she was a teenager, she didn’t want her mother hanging around. I wanted to give my little girl freedom.” Tears dribbled down Faye’s cheeks before she flicked them away as quickly. “It took almost four full months to find my baby’s body. In Ohio. We never went to Ohio. I hated that damn place. We avoided it if we could. And that’s where they found my little girl? It killed Roger. When the coroner told me and my husband what happened to our kid, he was never the same. But I don’t think it would’ve mattered either way. Could’ve been an accident all the same, I would’ve lost my husband. Sasha was his whole world and with her gone, he just…drank and drank. I put my husband to rest a year after Sasha.” She scoffed. “No…he’s not at rest. I buried my husband, but I can still feel his anger and sadness every damn day.” Faye pushed the butt into the ashtray, little wisps of smoke still rose. “A few months before they found Sasha that other girl went missing. I knew in my heart it was the same son of a bitch that did it. When I saw that girl’s picture, I knew. She looked like my Sasha, but the paper said she was seventeen. She was small for age. Same hair color, eye color and everything.

The cops wouldn’t listen because it wasn’t in this state. Said it was a coincidence. They kept trying to blame Sasha’s disappearance on that lifeguard boy, Carter…he was the last one with her, but it just didn’t feel right. A mother knows, you understand me? A mother knows. And that boy didn’t hurt my baby.” Faye’s eyes closed. There wasn’t anything she could do to bring comfort to a mother who was hurting for nearly thirty years. “They found that girl…Karen a few days after she was taken. Strangled. Like Sasha, but since they found her so fast, they could see things on her they couldn’t on my daughter. She had been raped, beaten and strangled before being dumped in that same damn lake.” Faye’s tired eyes finally met hers. “I will never know peace, Ms. Vance. I lost my entire family because of what that man did. But if you could bring justice to my family before I die, at least we can have that.” She stood up and nodded her head.] I’ll do everything in my power to find whoever is responsible. And thank you for the pictures. [She held up the small envelope of pictures that showed a very happy and very loved Sasha Beekman. With a few more exchanges she was making her way back out to her rental car. As she pulled out of the driveway and left the trailer park behind, she knew she had another home to visit today. But on the way, she was going to take route 51 through Darlington that turned into Route 14 that would bring her right past Berlin Lake in Ohio. She’d pass the RV park, the vending shed and the exact same stretch of road that Sasha went missing on. She hit play on the screen on the dash, listening to the detective’s notes that had been uploaded onto a playlist. She needed to know everything they did, everything they tried and every single suspect they interviewed. This job certainly was different from what she was used to, but it gave her an entirely new purpose.]

#TDATD #KillerCases

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transizzyhands · 2 years ago

Text

Hey look, here’s some more:

All of his clothing fit into one drawer of his dresser—he'd traveled light, not that he'd really had any other option. He didn't hate any of it, but he didn't love it. There were none of the graphic tees he once wore, no baggy jeans and colorful jackets. They were boring, muted clothes that belonged to a different person, a stranger. They belonged to Lucas Driscoll, the man he had to become. The man who, right now, had nothing but these clothes. He didn't even have a personality. Just a flimsy paper trail and a flimsy paper life.

He scrubbed his head in the sink, towel-dried it, and ran the clippers over his hair. He would let his beard grow out, but he needed to keep his hair short.

Now he'd been to town, shown his face with the locals. Aside from that first afternoon at Ruthie's (he didn't know if that was the name of the bar, but he thought of it as hers), he'd run into Joe Parker three more times just this week. That was just the product of small-town living, but every time left him feeling he should be holding his breath.

In the grocery store, they glanced at each other for the briefest of moments—he'd noticed Joe first—and he quickly turned, expecting Joe to call after him, but he didn't. The second time, at the diner, Joe, Ness, and a pair of their friends waved him over. They invited him to sit with them, but the four of them were already squished tightly around the booth. He declined as politely as he could, and the Parkers didn't try to change his mind.

The third time... back at Ruthie's, he caught sight of Joe across the room. Joe gave him a casual wave and Luke brought his drink over.

“Hey, Luke! Take a seat! Settling in?”

“Yeah. Yo, listen, Ruthie tried to recruit me for this plan to—”

“Plan to get me dating, yeah. She does that every couple of months. Don't worry about her, she'll give up on it in a week.”

“Oh. Well, I can't promise anything, but I figure I'll stay for a bit.”

Joe grinned. “If you can succeed where no one else has, you'll be a town hero.”

“So what's the deal?”

“The deal?”

“Yeah. Why's dating so hard around here?”

“Low dating pool. Not much going on. And it's not really a priority for me. Any free time I don't spend at the store is with the seniors anyway.” He paused for a moment. “Nice ink. There on your wrist.”

“Oh.” Luke unconsciously pulled his sleeve down. “Thanks, but... I've been thinking of getting it lasered off.”

“Yeah? Stop one too many jobs?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, but... the guy who got this? I'm not him anymore. I need to let it go.”

“Hmm. Is covering it up an option?”

“Maybe.” He needed it gone. This one in particular—he needed this tattoo gone. It was another tie he needed to cut.

He didn't realize he'd gone silent until Joe cleared his throat. “Hey, listen, just tell me to mind my own business. I just... that's my bad habit. I try to fix everything. Even things I really shouldn't.”

“No, you're fine.” In a desperate bid to change the subject, he said, “So, what needs doing around here?”

“What, like, jobs?”

“Yeah.”

“Legal or… not?”

“Legal.”

“Paid or unpaid?”

“Whatever'll just get me out of the cabin for a few hours a day, preferably during daylight hours.”

“Farm work?”

“I can chop wood, that's about it.”

“Can you cook?”

Not food. “If someone shows me how to do something a couple of times, I'll figure it out.”

“Adaptable, got it.” Joe nodded slowly, absently tapping two fingers against the table. “Let me ask around and see what I come up with.”

Haines's rugged isolation was both a blessing and a curse—the wilderness was right there, easy to flee to. But it also meant that the nearest NA meeting was over an hour's drive away. Far enough that he could very easily imagine himself inventing excuses to himself not to go. Even now, he toyed with the idea of just not going at all.

He grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He'd spent a quarter-million dollars to hit reset. Lest that be the stupidest investment he made, he needed to actually try to improve his life. Including going to NA.

The radio stations in the truck were static-shot and faded, bleeding into each other so he couldn't tell what was an ad and what wasn't. He'd have to figure out how to fix the music situation, but for tonight, the only background noise came from wind whipping past the partially-open window, carrying away the smoke drifting out of the cigarettes he chain-smoked as he drove. It didn't do much to clear his head, but he didn't have high hopes on that front anyway.

He pulled into the community center parking lot ten minutes before the start of the meeting and finished his cigarette. The parking lot was full—there was no way there were so many people here for an NA meeting. He watched a handful of people go inside and then finally got up to go inside as well.

He peeled off his coat, slung it over his arm, and tugged at the high neck of his sweater, finally feeling something familiar—the awkwardness that accompanied the first meeting in a new place. There were about fifty chairs in the cramped basement, and maybe a third were filled. No one really wanted the total stranger to sit next to them, so in a bid to stall for time, he wandered over to the refreshment table and got a cup of coffee.

It was hard to waste time when you drank your coffee black, so in a moment he was alone again with his styrofoam cup. Trying to project an air of confidence, he slowly turned and surveyed the assembly.

As if magnetized, his gaze immediately found Joe, already sitting down with his own coffee, staring off toward the front. Luke watched him take a swig of his coffee and glance at his watch.

The metallic clang of a door slamming made everyone jump, and Joe caught him looking. Luke quickly looked away, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks, and footsteps pounded on the staircase overhead. While everyone else was distracted, he grabbed a brownie and picked the nearest open seat.

The meeting started a few minutes later, led by a woman in her late 60s with weathered brown skin and wearing a biker vest. For once, he didn't really mind listening to other people bitch about their problems. In a way, it was just another normal part of life. It was reassuring. No matter what else had changed in his life, NA meetings remained the same.

About halfway through, Miriam the biker asked him to introduce himself. Hating every eye suddenly on him, he managed, “I'm Luke. Just moved to Alaska from Wisconsin.”

“Why Alaska?”

Because it's the farthest I could run. Because someone said it would be a good idea. Because Mike told me I could be anyone I wanted up here. None of those worked though. “It's pretty up here. Nice spot to start over.”

“Starting over. A romantic idea. But are you actually starting over, or are you just going to repeat past mistakes?”

Past mistakes. Mistakes that only ended in death and pain. Every time he'd tried to change, Walter White had ruined it.

But Walter White was dead now. He couldn't pull him back in. Now all that was left was to figure out who he was without the meth.

“It's over. And I know I probably don't deserve it, but... God, I'm glad I'm getting the chance.”

Miriam crossed one leg over the other and set her chin in her palm. “'I probably don't deserve it.' That's not the first time we've heard something like that said tonight. A lot of us, we talk about what we deserve or what we don't deserve, and it's easy to wave it aside when we say something like, 'I don't deserve this bad thing happening to me because I'm a good person.' But that's not how we in this room tend to use that expression. As Luke and a few others have demonstrated already, we in this room believe that we don't deserve to have good things happen to us because we're bad people or have done bad things. But that's a very black-and-white attitude to have, which doesn't just hurt us but everyone else around us.”

Luke tried to stay focused, but his gaze kept drifting back to Joe, slouching in his seat. A glint of gold from under his dark hair—an earring? Even after the topic shifted, Luke couldn't quite keep his attention on the discussion. He found himself watching as Joe fidgeted with his own cup, gently shredding the foam between his fingers.

By the end of the hour, he needed another smoke. When they finally broke, he had a cigarette in his hand before he even made it out the door. He flicked his lighter as soon as the door slammed behind him, but it didn't catch and light until the fourth or fifth try. Finally he managed to suck down a lungful of nicotine and headed back to his truck.

He got ready to go, but he got distracted by the metal door opening again and Joe striding outside. He paused, lit a cigarette of his own, and started walking. Luke unconsciously held his breath. He didn't exhale until Joe passed his windshield, and he didn't know why he felt disappointed, but he did. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, wondering if something new was wrong with him or if this was just another symptom of the same issues.

Knuckles rapped on his window and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Shit, sorry, buddy,” came Joe's muffled voice through the glass. “Wasn't tryin' to sneak up on you or anything like that.”

He cranked the window down. “You're... you're fine. Something wrong?”

“No, nothing wrong. Just... we're both here, at NA. Figured it'd be weird if I didn't say something, right?”

“Yeah, kinda. Anyone else from Haines here?”

Joe took a drag from his cigarette, glancing out toward the street. From this close, Luke could see the simple gold hoop in his earlobe. “Nah. Just me. And you now, I guess.”

“Oh. Is it supposed to be a big secret or something?”

That made Joe laugh. “Feels like it sometimes, but no, it's fine. I think it's kinda nice that there's someone around who won't make a big deal of it. Know what I mean?”

Luke thought for a moment and then shook his head. “The only people I know who aren't weird about it are people who have been through it. That's it, yo. Other people, they don't know what to say.”

“That's for sure.” Bitterness colored his words, and a piece clicked into place in Luke's head.

“That another dating issue for you?”

“I get a lot of respect for staying sober, but that's about it. Just mentioning being in recovery is enough to kill the mood.”

“Huh. Guess I never really dealt with that. I actually met my last girlfriend at NA.”

“Sounds like that would make it easier.” Joe took a long drag. “Heroin for me. What... what was it for you?”

“Meth. Well, heroin was what sent me to rehab, but I used meth more.”

“Shit, that's a rough one. Sorry.”

“They’re both shit.”

“But you're sober now.”

“Some weed a month or two ago, but that's been it for the last year.”

After a long silence, Joe said, “They really fuck up your life, don't they?”

“Credit where it's due. I did that pretty well on my own.”

Joe laughed. “I'll confess to that myself.”

“How long have you been coming here?”

“Year and a half.”

“So what's your honest assessment?”

“Of this place? Good people here. Lucky, too, since it's the only NA meeting within driving distance. At least on this side of the border, and I don't feel like going international every week.” Joe leaned up against the side of the truck. “What'd you think of Miriam?”

“She reminds me of... every other facilitator I've met. Like they all read from the same script.”

“That might be intentional. Consistency, right?”

“I get that they have to have, like, the same message or whatever, but why can't they just... say it like a normal person?”

“What, and miss out on the chance to bore everyone to sleep?”

“Why is it that the best naps are always when you're supposed to be awake?”

“It's the danger of getting caught. I'm assuming.”

Luke grinned and made a split-second decision. “Wanna come in? I can turn on the heat.”

“Love to, but I can't. I actually gotta head back to town now. Find me tomorrow at the store, though. I got a couple of things I've been digging up for you.”

“For me?”

“Yeah. The jobs you asked me about.”

“Oh. Right, yeah, great.”

Joe grinned, a bright smile that lingered in Luke's vision long after it disappeared. “Awesome. See you tomorrow, Luke.” He waved as he walked away.

Luke's heart pounded and his hands shook as he started up the truck. He must have had too much coffee.

hey look it's the first 2,000 words or so of this post-El Camino fic ive been working on

After 26 years in the desert, the first big adjustment was coping with the cold. Sure, it got cold in New Mexico, but it was nothing compared to Alaska's bitter freezes. Back when Alaska was just an idea in his head, he thought he could handle it. Oversized hoodies and beanies pulled low over his ears had been his wardrobe since he was a teenager, after all—they should have served him well up north.

Not so much. Less than a week after he arrived, after a night of shivering himself awake next to the wood stove, he got into the truck and headed into town.

It was a small town, vastly different from Albuquerque's busy streets and sprawling neighborhoods. Most of the vehicles around here were old trucks and Jeeps, bodies half-rusted away, with the occasional Subaru or SUV parked along the street. Small cars didn't fare well in the snow. Before the next big snowfall, he'd have to get chains. First things first, though: more layers.

A storefront called SNOWBUSTER'S EMPORIUM caught his eye. In the windows, a headless mannequin modeled a fur-lined parka and matching trousers, with a scarf around its neck and sturdy boots. He cut the engine halfway down the street and headed inside.

The bell over the door rang out, punctuating the classic rock playing softly over hidden speakers. “Hey, Joe!” came a woman's voice, but he couldn't see anyone.

“Uh. Not Joe. Sorry,” he said.

A head poked up from behind a rack of sweaters. “Oh! Nope, definitely not.” The woman, dark-haired and dark-eyed, shot him a mischievous grin. “Sorry about that.” She stepped out from behind the rack and approached him. “I'm Ness. New in Haines?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, let me know if I can help you find anything, okay?” She looked friendly enough, in her early forties with her dark hair in twin braids and a light-green flannel shirt buttoned high. “Passing through or staying?”

“Haven't decided,” he said. That, at least, wasn't a lie.

“This is a nice town. We always welcome a friendly face. How long have you been here?”

“Few days.”

“How do you like it so far?” As Ness spoke, she moved around the store, straightening displays or re-folding scarves.

“Not bad. A little cold at night.”

She hummed in agreement. “Staying warm at night is tricky. I always recommend getting a dog for that. But if you're allergic to dogs or you're not interested in getting one, there's always long johns! Back here.”

After a brief hesitation, he followed her to the back of the store and she gestured to a rickety shelf stacked with folded long johns. “Take a look back here, and if you don't find something you like, we can always special order something for you. It'll take a couple weeks to get in, but it's worth it. Welcome to town.” She stuck out her hand.

He shook it. “Thanks. Lucas,” he added.

Her smile widened. “Nice to meet you, Lucas. If you need me, I'll be up at the register. Just holler.” She went back to the front, leaving him to stare at the woolen clothing in silence.

But his attention just shifted right back to the shelves. They were splintering, half-eaten away, and looked like they were a rough sneeze away from falling apart. Flimsy plywood held together with wood glue and prayers. Before he could stop himself, he called over, “Where'd you get these shelves?”

Ness propped herself up on her elbows, leaning against the front case. “Why?”

“Hope you didn't pay too much for 'em, or I'd say you got ripped off.”

An eyebrow went up along with a small smile. “And how much would be too much?”

He scanned the rest of the store, eyeing the shelves in the walls. “Fifty bucks.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.” A horrible thought struck him. “You didn't make 'em yourself, did you?”

“No, I didn't make them.”

“Oh. Okay.” His heart rate started to return to normal.

“My brother did,” Ness finished as the bell above the door chimed out again.

“Your brother did what?” asked the man who'd pushed open the door. He wasn't particularly tall, maybe three inches taller than him, but his wide build, grown-out beard, and intense stare all immediately indicated that he was not someone to be messed with.

“Apparently, my brother is a piss-poor carpenter.”

“No, wait—that's not what I said,” he protested, silently kicking himself. He'd been in town less than a week, in this store less than five minutes, and he was already making an ass of himself. How the fuck was he supposed to keep himself out of trouble when he couldn't last a day with regular people?

“Lucas, this is Joe, my brother. We own the store.”

“I'm... sorry,” he mumbled, starting to skirt around the edge of the store toward the other door. His first, panicked reaction was to go for the gun in his waistband—the gun he didn't have on him. “I have this bad habit, I talk too much—look, I'll just leave and I won't bother you again.”

“That one doesn't open,” Joe said, his beard twitching.

“Ah.” He couldn't get a read on Joe's expression, but he didn't want to look too closely at him, either. “Are you gonna let me go?”

The siblings exchanged a look and then Joe stepped away from the door.

He took the opening presented and bolted before they could change their minds.

The snow crunched under his stiff boots, heavier on his feet than he was used to. Discomfort came from unexpected angles, from the cold against his scalp and the tug of still-healing scars when he talked, to tight new boots that hadn't broken in yet and an ache that went bone-deep when he bent his left knee. He focused on that to keep from panicking, focused on the key digging into his palm as he finally drew level with the truck.

The engine hadn't cooled much, so the air that blasted him was still warm. He fumbled through his unfamiliar pockets until he found his cigarettes and lighter. Maybe one day he'd quit, but right now, he didn't care. There was no guarantee he'd even make it to 30 anyway.

He needed a drink to calm himself down, but the idea of drinking alone after spending the better part of a year alone was enough to drive him crazy on its own. So going to a bar was the best option.

Fortunately, he didn't have to drive far. Barely a block away, he pulled into a practically-empty parking lot and went inside. It wasn't the sleaziest dive he'd been to, but it was up there. The dim lighting inside obscured anything farther than ten feet away. In some dark corner, only the quiet click of pool balls cracking together indicated a game of billiards. Despite the NO SMOKING sign behind the bar, an old-timer sat at a far table with a fat cigar burning. He went up to the bar, vacant aside from one bleary-eyed patron, and flagged down the bartender. “Jack and Coke.”

“ID.”

He slid his license across the bar top. The bartender's eyes scanned the name, the photo, the birthdate. “Sure thing, Mr. Driscoll. Five bucks.” She slid it back to him.

“Isn't it ten?” he asked, pointing to the prices listed above the bar.

“Happy Hour started at four. Jeez,” the bartender added. “Never heard a guy complain about a cheap drink before.” She pulled out a glass and started pouring, then nodded at someone over his head.

Before he could turn around to look, another body was in his space, sliding onto the stool next to his. “Just put it on my tab, Ruthie.”

“Sure thing. Anything for you? Get you your usual?”

“Nah, I'll just be a minute.” Leather creaked as weight shifted. “Never did get a chance to properly make your acquaintance. Joseph Parker. Everyone calls me Joe. Nella said you're Lucas?”

He swallowed and forced himself to look at Joe. “Yeah. Luke is good too.” It brought Luke Skywalker to mind. Badger and Skinny Pete were Trekkies if anything, but he'd always preferred Star Wars.

“Luke.” It looked like Joe was grinning, but it was hard to tell for sure.

“Yeah. Luke. My last name's Driscoll, though. Not anything cool, like Skywalker.”

Joe laughed, a big and genuine laugh, and Luke took a swig of his Jack and Coke to hide his sigh of relief.

“So, like... what are you doing here? You didn't follow me here just to buy me a drink, did you?”

Joe nodded slowly and lightly tapped his pinkie and ring fingers on the slick wood of the bar top. “You're right. I just wanted to—look, are you okay? When you left the store, you looked like you were about to pass out.”

“Huh?”

“What you said? 'You gonna let me go?' You were shaking like a Chihuahua.”

“But your sister said—”

Joe waved dismissively. “Ness was messing with me, that's all. That's what she does. I know those shelves're garbage. They've been like that for ten years. We fight about them all the time.”

“So why don't you just replace them?”

“You'll have to ask her that. Sometimes it feels like the only way they'll get fixed is if someone does it overnight.” He propped himself by his elbow. “Bah, it's not that important. Listen, there's no hard feelings, Luke. You gave a fair and moreover honest assessment of my work. It don't bother me any. Besides, if you keep talking to Ness about it, you might be able to help me convince her to replace them.” Joe got to his feet and held out his hand. “Come on back sometime and we'll take care of you.”

He shook Joe's hand. “Yeah, for sure. I'll be back.”

“Cool. See you around, Luke.” He stepped away, his hand lingering a fraction of a second longer in Luke's, and Luke swore his heart missed a beat but by the time he processed it, Joe was out the door.

He swirled his drink for a moment and then took another swig, grimacing slightly at the burning tang of whiskey.

“Well, since Joe's paying, want another?” Ruthie asked.

“He's really not gonna kick my ass?”

“Who, Joe? He's a big cuddly kitty-cat. Besides, I wouldn't offer if it was gonna be a problem. So how 'bout it?”

He stared into the glass for a few seconds and then finished it off. “Yeah, sure.”

“Great.” She mixed up another and swapped out the glasses. “Here. So, I'm gathering that you're new around Haines. Makes sense, I've never seen you before. You hanging around?”

“Haven't decided. I haven't unpacked yet, if that's what you mean.”

“Well, why not?”

“I don't know.”

“Think you could stay for, say, a month?”

That wasn't what he expected. “For what?”

“Well, if I'm being honest, it's a little boring. Everyone knows everyone. Kind of a relief to get some fresh blood in here.”

Something about that comment put him on-edge. “You're not... uh, vampires, are you?”

Ruthie laughed so hard she cried. Neither of the other two bar patrons even looked over at them.

“I'm guessing that means no.”

Her giggles slowly subsiding, she wiped her eyes with the back of her wrists. “No, no vampires in this town that I know of.”

“Werewolves?”

Ruthie looked like she was going to lose it again. “Luke, I need your help to get Joe a date. This isn't a monster movie. Not to imply the two are mutually exclusive or anything.”

“Why do you need my help?”

“Because you're exciting, you're bright, shiny, and new, and you're probably looking for new friends of your own anyway, right? So it's a win-win.”

“Sure. So what's your angle in this?”

“What makes you think I have one?”

“Just seems a little weird, you know? Asking a stranger for help setting up your friend.”

“What? Come on, I bet you're a great wingman. But listen, hey. He's a good guy. He just needs to shake it up a bit. Stranger from out of town sounds like the perfect way to do that. But, hey, if you're not interested, no problem.”

There was only one right answer to this, and the wrong answer felt dangerous. But there was a tug in his chest, something telling him to stay. So he compromised. “I'll think about it, okay?”

Ruthie nodded appreciatively. “That's more than I can rightly ask a stranger.”

#el camino #jesse pinkman #brba fanfiction

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angelst4re · 2 years ago

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୨♡୧ Jamie x Reader

Lie Detector -- there are rumours that you and jamie are dating, and you go onto a talk show and take a lie detector test! (inspired by charlie and natalia!)

'Til Death Do Us Part -- yours and jamie's honeymoon! he gets a bit jealous and you have a little argument :/

Cravings -- pregnant french!reader is craving macarons, jamie surprises her with some in bed

photobooth with jamie -- as it says :)

jamie coming back from filming -- as it says :)

Poor Thing -- you have never had aftercare before, so after doing the deed with jamie you get ready to leave, but he makes you stop, gives you cuddles and all his love <3 (no smut btw! ik this sounds nsfw but it's not)

boyfriend jamie headcanons -- as it says :)

Baby Body -- you feel insecure about your post-childbirth body, but your husband reassures you that you have the most beautiful body in the world!

Joe? -- you go with jamie to a dinner with the stranger things cast and meet joe keery, who you used to have the biggest crush on, jamie gets a bit jealous!

Disappointed -- pregnant!reader goes for an ultrasound, you expect jamie to be there but because of his work he was unable to come with you, leaving you upset

Too Soon -- you're pregnant with twins and want to tell jamie, but you're afraid that it's too soon and things are going too fast between you :(

No Peeking -- jamie gets a tattoo for your birthday!

Always Yours -- after receiving hate online, you post some pictures letting them know who your boyfriend belongs to :)

Night Drive -- when you can't sleep, you and jamie go for a drive!

Flawless -- after receiving hate online you start feeling insecure, however, your boyfriend is always there to comfort you and remind you how wonderful you are!

Gender Reveal -- as it says! :)

As You Are (plussize!reader) -- jamie likes you, but you odn't understand why, you feel like it's a cruel joke, but he's determined to show you your worth and show you how much he loves you! part 2! (warning! NSFW!)

coming out to jamie -- you bump into your ex, and jamie knows she wasn't just a friend...

First Time (getting a tattoo!) -- it's your first time getting a tattoo, so jamie comes with you to calm your nerves!

Night Terrors -- jamie comforts you after you have some bad dreams :(

Drunk in Love -- you come home drunk after a night out with your friends, jamie helps you get ready for bed :')

For the Thrill of It -- you're 1. in a band and 2. in a secret relationship with jamie and you're sick and tired of having to hide, and the rumours, so with the help of your daughter, you let everybody know the truth

cuddling with jamie! -- as it says :)

daddy issues -- you have a fight with your dad and run to jamie's in the middle of the night for comfort

Be My Mistake -- you broke up with jamie because the attention and hate from the fans was too much to handle, you spent the next 9 months working on yourself but when you see him at a party, you can't help but fall into old patterns

Right Here -- reader has nightmares and trouble sleeping, jamie calms her down and helps her back to sleep again :')

My First -- jamie is your first boyfriend and you feel a little insecure about it

Midnight Rain -- jamie calms you down from a panic attack in the middle of the night

Every Part -- you feel a little bad about yourself but jamie reassures you that he loves every part of you :')

Head Over Heels -- jamie proposes to you!

protective jamie

Perfect (ftm reader!) -- jamie comforting you when you feel insecure :)

Home -- jamie returns home after tarvelling for the comicons, ft. clingy jamie <3

Pretty Boy -- trans masc reader! you finally allow your boyfriend to confirm your relationship on social media!

Last Updated: 28th May!!

#jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower x reader

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finelinevogue · 3 years ago

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I love your “little moments” series… I have a weak spot for dad!Harry💕 and I love the relationship between the family’s members 🤗 and I really hope u will continue to update it! And for this series I would like to request Harry doing the 73 questions interview for Vogue and his kids and wife make an appearance (u can choose if the kids are toddlers or teens) and they even answer some questions OR an Howard Stern interview where Harry is asked about his family,maybe the host makes like not so nice-low key shady comments on his wife and on Harry’s daughter coming out story. Ok I’ m done, so sorry ik it’s so long 😅 it’s just I love your series sooo muchhh 🥰🥰 ok I’m done love u have a good day 😘

i’d love to answer this one!! thank you so much for loving my little series💕this one’s for you and for the other request i got which i’m combing with this: “Harry is doing a interview on facetime when his kid crashes the interview.” so pls enjoy and yeah enjoy;

oli - 6, felix - 4, belle - 1

The day had finally arrived for Harry Styles to complete the 73 Questions with Vogue.

It had come to be the promo for ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ and his schedule was booked with interview after interview after interview, and it wasn’t ideal for this to all be happening months whilst also having to look after three meddling toddlers, one of whom had only recently turned 1 years old.

The house was chaos. Fun, but chaos. And it was also the setting of this interview.

“Alright you lot, this way.” You shoved your children along to your living room, giving Harry the space he needed with Joe Sabia - the interviewer.

“Thank you love, see you later.” He blew a kiss to you and returned his focus to Joe. This interview was the first of many and it was also a major marketing ploy. These types of interviews were so highly recommended for Harry to be involved in and Jeff had thought it was about time for him to do one.

Joe had arrived around 15 minutes ago, just to

run over the script and remind Harry of the pre-determined questions - which reminded him of the answers that you’d run through with him the night before. Now the cameras were set up, the mic people were all at stand-by and Joe was ready it was time to begin. The children had been so fascinated by all these new people, after not seeing anyone for months due to the coronavirus pandemic, which is why it took a lot of trouble to get them to shuffle away from their beloved dad.

A fake door knock arose.

“Harry Styles hello!”

“Hi!” Harry waved at the camera.

“I’m here to do the Vogue 73 Questions, shall we get to it?”

“Of course! Come in!” Harry welcomed Joe into the house and shut the door behind him, not trusting his little ones to not escape if they were running wild.

“Beautiful house! Is it your only one?”

“No, but it’s my only one in London.” Harry made a point of not exploiting how many houses he did have and where they were. In fact, you still didn’t know about the Island that he was currently investing in just for you. You were a huge conservation activist and so Harry thought you could spend your free time helping the fragile ecosystem on this island.

“Did you design it yourself?”

“Me and my wife built the plans, but we go the experts to finish it all off.”

“What’s your favourite room?”

“Um, probably the living room.”

“Why?”

“So many of my favourite memories have happened in there.”

“Could you give us some?”

Harry could give loads, but they were far too precious for him to just give away. The living room wasn’t even a massive room, it was quite quaint with a couple of sofas, a logwood fire and then rugs and paintings on the walls. It was a home within a home. It was where Felix had taken his first steps. It was where Oli had spoken his first words. It was where Belle had fallen over for the first time and given herself nasty carpet burn. It was where presents were opened at Christmas. It was where you and Harry had made love next to the fire. It was where Felix and Oli had had their first tiny argument. It was where you spent family nights. If your house was a map then that room marked X the spot.

It was treasure. Priceless.

“My favourite would probably be when my wife, Y/N, spilt red wine all over the new white carpet and then proceeded to throw white wine over the stain because she’d read somewhere that it helps to get rid of it.” Harry chuckled at the memory.

“Did it?”

“No, God no. The carpet’s grey now.”

Joe laughed, as did Harry.

“I have to say Harry, you’re looking very fashionable today who are you wearing?”

“Gucci.” He blushed, because he knew that everyone would’e known that without question. He was wearing a lilac silk shirt with his name embroidered on it - but really it was to symbolise your last name not his - with a white wife-beater shirt and white shorts. He looked rich.

“Shouldn’t have asked really? Is your wife as much a Gucci avid fan?”

“She hates anything expensive. I think she still wears the same jeans she was wearing at university!” He knew you’d hit him later for saying that.

“So she’s a hoarder?”

“God yeah. She keeps everything and anything.” Harry laughed in admiration.

“Has she always been?”

“Always. When we went on our first date, her bag was so full that she couldn’t find her purse and she was so embarrassed because she thought I would think she was taking advantage of who I was. Anyways I did end up paying that night, but she had actually, I don’t know how, sent me money for her portion of the bill. From that moment I knew it was going to be her.”

“Do you write songs about her?

“Every day.” He smiled at the thought of the one he’d written just this morning.

“Which one is your favourite about her?”

“I don’t know about favourite, but the one I hold closest to my heart is probably ‘Fine Line’.” Harry stopped there, not wanting to share the intimate details of why and Joe respected that.

“Do your children have a favourite song of yours?”

“They go crazy for Kiwi and Golden. Belle loves Treat People and Oli knows the dance to that one actually.”

“Did you choreograph the dance for TPWK?”

“Partially, but I had help from my friend Paul and Y/N helped too actually.”

Harry and Joe had now made it through the house, weaving in and out of rooms, until they had made it to the Garden. Unfortunately, you’d forgotten to shut the bifold doors to the living room and so as soon as Harry came into focus for your children they immediately ran for him. Oli and Felix could run quite well, but Belle was a lot slower. She was only learning how to walk and so she fell a lot, unless she was being supported by you or Harry. Oli reached his dad first and then Felix, to which Harry knelt down to embrace them in ‘super-dad’ hugs as he liked to call them.

“And who do we have here?” Joe asked.

“Trouble.” Harry replied in jest, but whispered something into his boys ears before backing away.

“Hello i’m Oli.” Oli waved proudly to the camera.

“Hi i’m Fix.” Feliz shied into his dads neck, embarrassed of himself. Harry kissed the back of his head and kept a hold oh him around his back for comfort.

“Fix?” Joe asked at the peculiar name.

“It’s Felix, but he can’t pronounce his own name for some reason so we just call him Fix now. Or Flix. Don’t we buddy?”

“Oh my! I’m so sorry about this!” You ran out in panic, knowing your one job was to keep the kids entertained and away from their dad. At least that was the original plan, but both Harry and Joe like this idea so much more. You were blushing red in embarrassment, picking up a fallen over Belle on your way over to everyone else. “So sorry.”

Belle became restless in your arms, reaching forward for her dad. She whined when she couldn’t quite reach and Harry immediately stood up to take his winging daughter from your arms. As he did, he leant into you and whispered in your ear whilst leaving it a warm kiss behind.

“You’re okay love. Don’t be sorry.”

“Hello Y/N!” Joe spoke.

“Hiya! How are you?”

“I’m great, and you?”

“Peachy.” You laughed, leaning down to collect Felix who was making grabby hands at you. Oli was quite happy standing next to both his parents, one of Harrys hands running through his tiny locks of hair.

“So now we have the family together, how do you feel to all be together?”

You looked to Harry smiled to find him smiling back already at you, knowing you both had a very similar answer. “It feels right. It feels like home.” You answered and Harry nodded in agreement, giving Belle a gentle rock in his arms.

“Are you okay with showing your children’s faces publicly?”

“No we’re not.”

“Looks like we have a hell of a lot of editing to do back at HQ.” Joe laughed, but completely understood the reasoning behind yours two decision. If needed, you could re-film scenes of this interview so that it didn’t include your children. Joe had done his best to keep the camera on you and Harry and luckily the children kept their faces buried in their parents necks anyways. “Is that going to be forever?”

“When they are old enough to decide whether they want to be in the spotlight then we’ll see.” Harry smiled, holding onto Belle tighter because all he wanted to do was keep her protected, and his, forever.

“You two seem like very good parents.” Joe spoke sincerely, and it made you swallow down a sob because it was always really lovely to hear such compliments - knowing you’d struggled with postnatal depression.

“Thank you Joe.” Harry nodded respectfully.

“Okay let’s carry on?”

The interview carried on until Harry had answered so many questions. He redid bits, due the children being too involved and he re-filmed answers to questions he found difficult to answer the first time around. He had such a great experience and was happy with the way that the day turned out.

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thegallaghersociety · 3 years ago

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Thanksgiving GG Style

Rachel: The Host™. Has spent the last two days frantically running around the cabin trying to clean up old dishes, dirty clothes, various lethal weapons, dusty cabinets, and confidential files. Emailed Madam Dabney to ask what kind of decorations she should use for their table. May or may not have borrowed a dress from the Gallagher Academy spy closet to wear.

Joe Solomon: Has kept Rachel from the brink of three mental breakdowns so far and prevented the house from burning down when she attempted to cook a sweet potato casserole. Spent all night checking on the security measures over the entire property (some habits never die). Was yelled at by Rachel for trying to wear the same flannel he wore all week to the dinner.

Cammie: Slept in and had to get ready in one hour. Almost burnt her hair off when she attempted to curl it before it was dry. How the hell does she manage to make a simple skirt and blouse look so good? She doesn’t tell anyone that Macey helped choose her outfit. Makes Zach stop by Starbucks on the drive down so that she can be fully awake before arriving at the house.

Zach: Was up at 5:30 AM sharp. Probably ran like 10 miles and caught a criminal before getting ready. Thought about waking Cammie up but was happy she was finally sleeping the whole night through and decided to let her rest. Watched the news while emptying the dishwasher. Rolled up his sleeves past his elbows because “he didn’t want to get food on them” but gave a sly wink at Cammie from across the table as she drooled slightly.

Bex: Got in from a mission at one in the morning and fell asleep on the couch. Woke up to Liz calling her phone to make sure she was remembering to bring the rolls. “Of course! I got them on my counter right here-- no I did not just wake up!” (They were definitely not on her counter) Wore a casual yet classy all black outfit that turned heads when she sprinted into the grocery store and snatched the last pack of crescent rolls before a Karen could reach it.

Liz: Had her outfit planned two days in advance, her food prepared a week in advance, and an itinerary for the day on hand almost a month ago. Was in charge of all of the desserts. Ever since her first failed attempts while she was in the Academy, she had mastered the art of baking. Almost dropped all the pies down the stairs while getting to her car because she thought she should call Bex to make sure she got what she needed (she didn’t believe her one bit though).

Macey: The best dressed (of course). Almost used her laser lipstick instead of the regular one though. Her louboutins were a little out of place in the rustic cabin but it was clear she was perfectly at peace there. At one point was found standing out by the lake thinking about all the things that had happened since she had first woken up in this house. Got a call after dinner asking her to go on a mission the next day-- “Is it somewhere warm? Sign me up.”

Preston: Excited little golden retriever ™. He was invited to a family holiday with all his friends!! It was the best day of his life (besides that one time he got to kiss Macey on the train). Still a little twinge of sadness as he tries to forget about why he isn’t spending it with his regular family, but Macey quickly distracts him with a kiss. “We’re your new family now!” Insists they listen to Christmas music for the entire drive so they can get “in the holiday mood.” Macey acts annoyed but soon joins in.

Abby: Is running late (definitely has nothing to do with Townsend getting in the shower with her--) Takes a call with a North Korean informant while casually putting on her makeup. Downs two cups of coffee before heading out the door. Texts Rachel to let her know that they are on their way and that they are sorry for being late. O shit! We forgot the napkins--

Townsend: Remembered the napkins. Just decided not to tell Abby he grabbed them so she could panic the rest of the way to the cabin. Usually hates holidays and large gatherings, but for the first time is excited okay with going. Made a green bean casserole that is surprisingly good considering he hasn’t cooked real food for three months. Offers to help Joe carve the Turkey. May or may not have been the one to start the game of knife throwing after dinner.

#Gallagher Girls #gallagher academy #gallaghergirls #The Gallagher Academy #cammie morgan #Joe Solomon #bex baxter #Zach Goode #zammie #preston winters #macey mchenry #rachel morgan #liz sutton #abby morgan #townsend #edward townsend #thanksgiving #thanksgiving headcannons #Ally Carter

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falcqns · 4 years ago

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Mute

Pairing: Chris Evans x Mute!Reader

Summary: You meet Chris for the first time and he doesn’t know you’re mute. All hell breaks loose.

Warnings: angst, chris being an accidental asshole, fluff, sebastian stan being protective

A/N: I based this on a dream I had, as well as my experience with being a selective mute from 2017-2020, and how I communicated and who I spoke verbally to. Hope you enjoy!

Sebastian was shocked when he met you in pre-production for the first post-endgame Marvel movie, and you didn’t speak, instead nodding and using hand gestures that he later deciphered to be sign language. He knew that you were fairly new to the industry, and so approached Joe Russo.

“Hey, Joe. I just had a question about the new girl, Y/N?” He asked, while watching you walk of with your PA next to you. “Sure, what’s up?” Joe responded.

Sebastian cleared his throat before continuing. “I tried talking to her a little bit, but she didn’t speak, instead she used sign language, and I just was wondering if you knew why? Just so I can be better prepared and know how to help her,”

Joe smiled at Sebastian’s request. Being the insanely caring person that Seb was, his question didn’t surprise him. “She’s a selective mute. She does talk, but it is only when she is acting, and she’s an amazing actor. She mentioned to me that she doesn’t speak verbally unless she is very close to the person and trusts them wholeheartedly, such as her family and best friends. Her PA is her best friend, and can help you communicate with her. But, other than that, just get to know her. She’ll probably open up to you.” Joe finished, before patting Seb on the back, and walking off to talk to some production people.

Sebastian looked in the direction that you had gone, and decided to talk to you. You may not communicate verbally with him, but he wanted to get to know you.

Over the next few weeks of pre-production, both Sebastian and Anthony got to know you, and both were insanely shocked when you performed your first scene with them. You delivered your lines like you had been talking all your life, and with the gravity of an experienced actor. They both congratulated you, and you signed “thank you” in response. If any one had any doubts about your skills as an actor before, they had fully dissipated.

When it had been announced that production would be moving to the UK, Seb approached you and Mackie with the idea of renting a place together. You had agreed instantly, glad that you wouldn’t be living on your own in a foreign country all alone, especially since Y/B/F/N couldn’t come along. Living with both boys was chaotic to say the least, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. They gave you the biggest bedroom in the house, and began learning sign language so you wouldn’t have to carry your ipad everywhere for your text-to-speech app.

A few weeks in, you began to speak verbally to both boys. They were shocked when you spoke to them for the first time, but were insanely happy. Seb was almost in tears, recalling that you only spoke to those who you trusted whole heartedly. He had become insanely protective of you, and treated you like a sister, which you absolutely loved.

Everything was going great. That was, until Chris Evans showed up.

He had just finished filming his latest project, and decided to come and visit his two closest friends that he hadn’t seen in a few months. Mackie had mentioned that he was coming, and would be staying in the spare bedroom, and you foolishly assumed that he would tell Chris about your mutism.

But Mackie being Mackie, he didn’t. And neither did Seb, who also thought Mackie had told him.

You hid in your room when Chris arrived, not ready to face him at that point. You ventured out just after dinner time, and grabbed a plate of food before retreating back into your safe haven with the cover of working on an assignment that you had told to Seb. They bought it, and you and Chris made eye contact and shared a wave before you disappeared from sight.

A few days later is when all hell broke loose.

Chris seemed to have a habit of searching you and Seb out. It started off with him walking into our bedroom while Seb was talking to you, and admiring how you’d decorated the place. Yo gave him a small shy smile, which he returned, although there was a hint of confusion written all over his face. Then, you were asking Sebastian for clarification on the Romanian lines that you were supposed to speak the next day, when Chris wandered in to the kitchen. He noticed how you instantly fell silent, and whispered a thank you to Sebastian before you scurried past him. How watched your back retreat, and sighed, but grabbed his the beer he came for before walking into the living room.

It was later that night that you had decided that you wanted to talk to Chris. You hadn’t known him very long, but you felt very safe around him, and everyone had told you how trustworthy he was. You had spent the last 30 minutes hyping yourself up in the mirror before walking out on a journey to find him. You heard his voice floating from the kitchen, and as you got closer, your heart instantly broke.

“I just don’t get what her problem is with me.” You heard Chris say. Another voice, Seb, responded.

“Chris, I don’t think she has a problem with you,”

Chris scoffed. “Yes she does. Why else would she not talk to me, and rush out of a room quicker than she entered when I walk in? She has a huge problem with me. I don’t know why she thinks that just because she got a part in a movie that she can walk around all high and mighty, but I’ve done nothing to her. She’s being a bitch,”

You heard Seb exclaim and start to defend you, but you didn’t stay to listen to what he said, instead running back to your room in tears, your confidence shattered. You grabbed your iPad and apple pencil, and began to draw, an activity that let you communicate your feelings. You wanted to show Chris that you didn’t hate him, and that you didn’t think more of yourself just because you got a part in a movie.

You finished it right before dinner, and kept it in your grip tightly when Mackie called you down for dinner. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you made your way down the stairs, but your face fell, and eyes welled up with tears when you saw Chris wasn’t there.

“Is Chris coming to dinner?” You asked Seb, and he shook his head no sadly.

“No. He’s not in the best mood, but dont worry, he’ll be fine.” He said, as he grabbed his plate.

“Oh, okay.” You said, your voice coming out shaky. You looked down at the ipad in your hands, before walking out the kitchen. Seb followed behind you. Just before you reached the stairs, he gripped your arm, causing you to turn around.

“What’s wrong?” He asked sincerely, and you couldn’t hold back the tears.

“I-I heard h-him talking about m-me earlier,” You whispered, and Seb cursed before pulling you into a hug.

“You heard him,” He said. You nodded before speaking again.

“I drew him a picture and I wanted to give it to him to show that what h-he said wasn’t t-true, and that I’m actually a huge fan of his,” You sobbed into his chest. Seb didn’t move, but waited for your tears to subside, before walking with you upstairs.

“He’ll come around. He had a rough night, although that doesn’t excuse his behaviour. I’ll talk to him, okay?”

You nodded, and curled up in bed. “Do you want me to bring you up some dinner?” Seb asked, and you nodded again, before telling him what you wanted.

He left the room, and came down the stairs. he plated the food that you wanted, and grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge.

“What happened?” Anthony asked from the dining room as Seb passed.

“She heard what Evans said, and she’s heartbroken. I’m bringing her dinner, and then I’m gonna talk some sense into that motherfucker.”

“Good, he needs it.” Anthony agreed, watching as Seb walked away.

Seb dropped the food off to you, before walking across the hall to Chris’s room. He answered after the first knock.

“What’s up?”

“First of all, you’re a grade A asshole, and second of all, you need to go apologize to Y/N.” Seb said, anger bubbling in his voice.

“Why? She hates me, I’ve done nothing to her to-“ Chris began before Seb interrupted him.

“SHE DOESN’T HATE YOU!” He exclaimed. “She’s selectively mute, that’s why she doesn’t speak to you! She’s a huge fan of you. She’s in her bedroom, right now, heartbroken, because she heard you talking about her.” Seb finished, his hand pointing at your bedroom door.

Chris felt his heart sink. “Why does she talk to you, but not me?”

Seb sighed. “She only talks to people she trusts a lot, and you met her yesterday. Of course she’s not gonna talk to you right away, and now I’m afraid she never will because you talked bad about her. She drew you a picture in hopes that you would understand that she didn’t hate you, but you broke her heart even more by not showing up at dinner. Now, go and fix it or will not hesitate to call your mother.” Seb finished, before walking away.

Chris sat back down on his bed in disbelief. He’d fucked up, and he didn’t know how to fix it. He thought back to Seb’s threat, before picking up his phone and calling his mom.

You had just finished another episode of Criminal Minds, when a knock came to your bedroom door. You dragged yourself out of bed, and opened the door to reveal Chris. You felt tears welling up in your eyes, and kept them locked on the floor, in fear that he was going to yell at you, and repeat his earlier statements to your face.

“I’m sorry,” Chris breathed out. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You slowly moved your eyes up to meet his, and he sucked in a breath when he saw your puffy eyes. “It’s ok.” You signed, and Chris shook his head no, before enveloping you into his arms.

He moved the two of your further into your bedroom, and shut the door behind him.

“It is NOT okay. In any way. I broke your fucking heart, Y/N. I have no excuse for what I said, and I want to make it up to you. Will you let me do that?” He asked, his face buried into the hair atop your head. You nodded and he pulled away from you. You grabbed your ipad, opened up your text to speech app, and typed in a sentence.

“Do you want to watch a movie with me?”

Chris nodded, and smiled, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Of course. You pick.”

You led him over to the bed, and got in, and he climbed in the opposite side. You picked up the remote, and chose the movie “Swat: Under Siege”. Chris wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and pulled you close to him. You cuddled into his chest as the movies opening scene began to play.

About halfway through the movie, Chris tilted your chin up to look at him.

“I really am sorry. I hate that I said what I did. I just- Seb had told me all about you, and I had seen some of the leaked pictures from set, and all I wanted to do was impress you. When I thought you hated me, I couldn’t handle it, and I lashed out. I’m so so sorry about that.” He said, his thumb teaching over your cheekbone once more. “Also, Seb told me that you drew me a picture? Can I see it?” And you nodded.

You unlocked your ipad and opened the drawing app, clicking on the most recent one, before handing the device over to Chris.

His breath caught in his throat while he looked down at the picture you had drawn of him.

“T-that is amazing,” He said, tears coming to his eyes at the picture that you worked so hard to make of him. “You’re even more amazing than I thought.” He finished. “Thank you,” You signed, before thinking of a question.

You grabbed your iPad once more, and typed into your app.

“Why did you want to impress me?” Chris smiled at the sound of the robotic voice coming from the device.

“I was drawn to you. I dont know what is was, but I couldn’t get you off my mind. I had searched and searched to find another tv or movie you had been in, but nothing came up, and I was so shocked that you got such a big part right off the bat. But I was also insanely excited to see you perform. And when Seb and Mackie told me I could come and stay for a while, I was ecstatic to be able to get to know you, and that’s when I realized that I liked you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. Did Chris Evans really just admit to having a crush on you?

“Now, I understand if you dont like me back, but I had to get that off my chest, especially since I just broke your heart.” Chris said, his eyes focused on the tv to not meet your gaze. You gave him a small smile, but grasped his chin into your hand, and drew his lips into a soft and tender kiss.

He let out a breathy moan, and pulled you closer. His lips travelled from your lips, and all over your face, amking you let out a giggle. He started laughing too, and pulled away. “I’m guessing this means that you like me too?” He asked, and you nodded immediately.

He smiled, and grasped your hand in his. “Well then, can I take you on a date?”

You took a deep breath, and opened your mouth. “Yes.”

Chris’s eyes immediately welled up with tears and he pulled you in for another kiss.

“You spoke to me,” He whispered when he pulled apart, a few tears rolling down his face.

You shrugged and gave him a smile.

“I trust you wholeheartedly.”

#chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans angst #chris evans x reader fluff #sebastian stan #anthony mackie

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henryobsessed · 3 years ago

Text

The Veterinarian and the Werewolf - Chapter 12

Word Count: 1838

Warning: Angst

A/N: Thank you @sillyrabbit81 and @amberangel112 for your help and encouragement. Also to my lovely readers, your comments on this story have been so engaging and encouraging :)

Chapter 12 – Jessie

Jessie had waited impatiently at the tree. They had fallen asleep together and she had been so eager to be wrapped up in his arms. But here she was waiting. It had felt like ages since she had arrived when she heard it. The sound of snapping jaws and deep desperate snarls. Standing, wondering if she needed to run, a wolf broke into the clearing. It wasn’t any wolf; it was Henry’s wolf.

“Henry are you ok?” she asked, watching carefully to see if it truly was Henry or if his wolf had taken control. But the look of anger and pain she saw in his eyes as he looked at her told her that this was Henry. This was the man she had grown to love; his feelings were clouding his mind right now and she knew she needed to be careful. He was unpredictable, what else could she do but offer a safe haven for him when he was ready.

She slowly knelt down, patting her lap, letting him know she was ok and that she was there for him. All the while she watched as he paced back and forth, each footfall a deliberate strike against the earth. Whatever had set him off must not have been good, she had never seen him in human form or wolf form this angry and in this much pain apart from that first night. Even then he had calmed the moment her presence had been seen. He continued to pace but his footfall grew softer, then he turned walking towards her. She could see his eyes no longer held the blaze of fire instead a pool of pain lingered. He laid his head in her lap, her hand automatically moving to caress him. She felt his body shudder beneath her hand as his breathing evened out.

At that moment she felt the shudder flow from his body to hers. She could feel his emotions, the grief, the pain and yet the comfort that she was giving him overshadowed all the other feelings. She closed her eyes focusing on the overwhelming sensations, breathing in the smells that surrounded her, the sounds of the birds chirping and then a snapping. Her eyes opened quickly searching the bushes until she realised the sound was coming from Henry. She stilled, not knowing what was happening, fear-fille her as she watched his limbs contort and change. Awe consumed her as she watched his human form appear, then heat crept up her cheeks as she realised clothes were not a part of the transformation.

You would think that seeing her lover in all his glory would make her desire him. And truth be told she did linger on his impressive organ between his legs, something she had felt many times but never seen. But all that was quickly consumed by the sound of Henry, his exertion evident by his laboured breathing and shuddering chest. Her hand tentatively reached out touching his hair as if he might break.

“Henry” she breathed softly, calmly. “Henry, are you ok? Can you tell me what happened?” His body curled up, shivering, his head turning to find her eyes. Not willing for him to see her fear she softened her features, leaning down and kissed his forehead. “It’s ok sweetheart, you’re safe.” Her whispers sounded as if they were shouted in the stillness of the forest. All the animals halted their sounds as if listening to their conversation.

He reached his large hand up to her cheek, touching her, as his horse voice broke, “I thought I had lost you, the forest would not let me reach you. I…”

Her hand braced his own against her face as she kissed his palm. “Shh, my love. It’s ok, your here and I am here. Nothing can harm us here.” They stayed in that embrace until their bodies calmed, their breathing gentled. Finally, the trees began to move again, the birds began to make their song as Henry shut his eyes and slept, his body exhausted. She smiled down at his face, the peace, when he was asleep, was something she had not had the privilege to witness until now. Her mind chuckled at the thought of him sleeping within a dream. She spent that rare time memorising the contours of his face. The way his nose was slightly crooked, his chin dimpled, his brow creased and the smile lines in his cheeks. For a short moment, she felt true peace, which gave her the determination that nothing would happen to her precious mate.

That morning she awoke to an empty bed, she could hear the sound of voices happy and laughing down in the kitchen. One more than she was prepared for, she walked down she saw Tom, Joe, Henry, and a strange man. However, it became very apparent who it was by the way that Joe was hanging off his body. This must be the allusive Dillon who she had spoken to on the phone but never met in person. He was everything opposite to Joe. While Joe had blonde hair, Dillion’s was black, where Joe was colour and bubbliness, Dillion was goth, his black clothing and pale skin accentuating his lack of sun. His profession was a gaming programmer who rarely left his house, so the fact that Joe had managed to get him to come out was amazing.

She stood for that moment and watched the banter, and friendship in the room. Even Henry was yipping as if he was joining in the conversation. Who would have thought that she would ever have this in her life? She saw that they had missed getting the milk, so turning she went outside. There, as usual, was the two bottles of fresh milk but what she saw next chilled her heart. A letter with a small poise of flowers sat up against the milk. She knew it wasn’t from Tom, so was it from Boyd? Not wanting to disturb the merriment inside she opened the letter.

Dear Jessie,

I know you were upset the last time we spoke, so I am willing to overlook your disrespectful behaviour. We have to talk, so you will meet me today just after lunch at the big tree in the forest. Come alone. I would hate for anything bad to happen to your precious wolf. And don’t think I haven’t noticed that Tom stayed over last night. If you want to keep him safe too, you will not let him know where you are going.

Our life together is going to be so special; I can picture you swollen with my children cooking in our kitchen. No need for you to keep your hobby working with animals, you will be too busy looking after me.

I love you Jessie and you will be mine.

Love

Boyd.

A shiver of fear ran down her back, not for her own safety but for that of her mate, and her friends. Stuffing the note in her pocket she picked up the milk leaving the flowers in the dirt and headed inside.

That morning she tried to enjoy the banter and giggles around her house. They had all decided to stay and keep her company. While Joe and Tom set about picking board games to play from the family cupboard, Dillon sat on his laptop in the living room. Henry was quietly watching her as she began making snacks.

“Come on Henry. Why don’t you go get the bag of chips from the pantry hmm?” A sparkle lit his eyes as he trotted off bringing back the Lays chips held daintily between his teeth so as not to damage them. “Go on, take them into the living room and give them to Dillion.” He tilted his head just slightly then nodded before heading out.

How was she going to get away with so much activity? Actually, it ended up very simple. After a morning of games and fun and food, they had settled into the living room to watch a movie. Jessie excused herself to go to the bathroom. After returning she noticed they were all preoccupied. Joe in Dillon's arms and Henry curled up next to Tom, where he had previously been turned the other way his head on her lap. Taking her chance, she slipped out the door and headed to her tree.

The walk that normally was filled with calm, instead anxiety was thrumming through her body. What was she going to say to him? How could she get him to leave Henry and Tom alone? As she stepped into the clearing, it was almost like a scene from her dreams, her tree, the wood filled with the sound of birds and other animals. But instead of Henry waiting at the tree, it was Boyd. Leaning against the tree, his tall, built body, no matter how appealing, held no enjoyment. Nothing like the fluttering in her stomach when she saw Henry.

“Well little lady, you took your time.” His rich voice sent the wrong kind of shivers down her back.

“What do you want Boyd? I made myself pretty clear the other night I do not want anything to do with you. So, you can stop this nonsense and give up.” Her voice held more authority than she knew she had as she tried to stare down the man.

Just like an animal, he seemed to pull up taller at the challenge. “Well now ain’t that a pretty speech, but you see I have the upper hand here. All it would take is a small word to the sheriff that your wolf tried to bite me, and he will force you to put him down. I can’t possibly imagine how heartbreaking it would be to have to do that yourself seeing as you are the only one qualified in this area. Plus, that little pansy of a boy that seems so infatuated with you, just one word from me to my boys and he won’t be able to get out of bed for months. And before you think running to his dad, he is backing me on this, he has no love for the boy.”

Jessie began to shake. What was she going to do? How could she even pretend to love this bastard? Boyd stepped closer just out of reach, spitting some chewing tobacco to the ground before he drawled, “"Now.. Come here little one, give me a kiss before I force it from you"

Trembling, she didn’t know what to do. She was ready to do almost anything, but the idea of kissing that filthy mouth and submitting to this animal was abhorrent. He took another step forward before she heard a deep throaty growl behind her.

Nooo!!!

What happened next all seemed to go by in slow motion. Henry jumping in between her and Boyd, the cocky grin on his face before he pulled a pistol from his side, and the sound of the gun going off.

Chapter 13

#The Veterinarian and the Werewolf #henry cavill #werewolf #true mates

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

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Little Border Town

Summary: It begins with a man and a woman, as it always seems to. One lives in France and the other lives in Italy, technically, but they’re also neighbors. Various issues arise between these two and they can’t ever seem to see eye to eye on anything. Will they ever move past their petty fighting or is the little town they live in doomed to only gossip about what Harry and Y/N are fighting about today?

AKA: Harry and Y/N are neighbors that fight all the time, the whole town wants to know when they’ll just fuck.

Featuring italrry as well as mustachrry! and running italrry... I hope y’all like! this is just part one, so much more is in store so pls let me know what you think :) lots of love - first fic that’s not named from a quote said in the story I’m shook!! the growth, the range...she has it apparently! side note: i had to change the gif from italrry/mustachrry bc something is whack with the formatting and either the keep reading or the title keeps disappearing so i tried some stuff to resolve it *sobbing*

Word Count: 8.5k | Warnings: swearing, mentions of relatives death, bickering, otherwise tame for now?

Pt. 2

There’s a little town that straddles the border between Italy and France. It’s just a little ways from Nice on the French side and Ventimiglia on the Italian side. The population is rather small and the tourists who come are usually either returners or are very very lost. One street you’re in France and the next you’re in Italy. It can be confusing to newcomers, but the locals love it -- for the most part. These streets are easily delineating as French or Italian by the little country flags that hang above all the shops or in the windows.

It’s a coastal town with cobblestone everywhere and bright painted buildings. The water is a soft blue and the wind barely ever brings any waves greater than a foot high. There’s a shop for everything and it seems to be frozen in the past from the outside, thankfully if you step into the tiny bed and breakfast there is wifi. The sun almost always shines down on this sweet piece of paradise, the winter does however bring gusting winds and thunderstorms. Those storms rattle the little town and afterwards you’ll find the residents picking up the pieces that have fallen off the shops.

Now, this little border town, with its streets separated by French and Italian customs, well almost all of them, it seems imperative to mention. There, in the exact middle of the little town, is one street that is split down the middle, half in France and half in Italy. The locals from the French and the Italian sides love that street the most because it has this certain dynamic spark of change that brings them together, makes them unique. Except for two locals that seemingly hate this street. These two locals aren’t actually true locals either. They both moved there a couple years ago.

Harry, from the Italian side, owns the shoemaker and repair shop. He hailed from England and moved to the little town when his great uncle, Joe, had sent him a letter pleading for him to take over his shop so that he could retire. Harry, ever the traveler, hopped on the next flight out to Italy and then traversed by train and bus until he reached his Joe’s home. Like most of the shops, there was a living space above the shop area. Harry lived there with Joe until he passed away a few years back leaving Harry to tend the store alone. He didn’t mind too much, being left there alone. He had always loved Italy and to get to live in the countryside in a little cobblestone town and own a shop was a dream come true. After living there for two years, he had bought a sailboat that he would take out when the shop was closed. He also had bought himself a motorcycle that he would ride to the next greatest city if he was ever in dire need of more of a nightlife as a 26 year old. He loved it, his own slice of paradise… except for his thorn in his side.

Y/N, from the French side, owns the bookstore, which carries lots of vintage books and records. She had moved there after college. In school, she had studied French and taken a year abroad in Paris and had traveled down to Nice for a month. While in Nice she had made a few friends and one of them had come from the little border town. They had insisted they all go there for a weekend. When Y/N stepped foot onto the street she now lived on a few years before, she fell in love. Seeing the little Italian and French flags in the windows and potted plants with a view of the sea had been so endearing to her.

She was drawn to the bookshop and had chatted up the old French woman who ran it. The woman had reminded Y/N of someone but she couldn’t quite place her finger on it. It was strange for her because she often found these connections with older people, she felt like she had known this woman her whole life. Y/N went back into the store the next two days she was there to talk to the woman again, Marie, she had learned. Before she left the little town she left her number with Marie and kept in some contact with her. After about a year though, their communication fell off. Y/N was sad but understood that life can be busy for people and that she obviously wasn’t the most important woman in the little border town bookkeeper’s life. Or so she thought. In the middle of the summer after she graduated college, Y/N was backpacking through Iceland and got a call from who she assumed was Marie. She was ecstatic and answered the call immediately. Sadly, it wasn’t Marie, instead a friend who had been given her will to execute. In her will she had left Y/N the bookshop. Her reasoning was similar to why Y/N had liked Marie so much, she said that Y/N had reminded her of her sister who had died unexpectedly in her teenage years. Being so far from home at the time and completely consumed with love and loss, Y/N had agreed to take over the shop without any hesitation.

She got home and informed her parents of her choice and moved to the little border town as soon as she could. She lived in the little area above the shop that Marie had also gifted to her and she tended the shop downstairs. The living area hadn’t really been cleaned out and Y/N had found an old collection of vinyls in the corner of the bedroom. As much as she wanted to keep them to herself, she thought it would be a good addition to the shop and had made a section for records in memory of Marie. She loved France and the coast, she bought a little car and would drive to Nice every so often or to the more sandy beaches along the French coast. It was quiet and different from the life she had maybe expected, but taking over a bookshop because a kind stranger had gifted it to you as one of their dying wishes wasn’t something Y/N could ever turn down. Her soul was too sweet. At least it was for most people, not for her neighbor though.

Her neighbor was the shoemaker, Harry. Their shops lived against one another even though he was on the Italian side and she was on the French. They were located exactly at the split between France and Italy. With less than a foot between the buildings, they saw a lot of each other. On their first interaction, Y/N had seen too much of her neighbor, meaning she had seen all of him. Their shops were similar to track homes, meaning they were built completely the same only mirrored. This meant that the windows of their bedrooms matched up exactly, she wondered who had thought that was a good idea after her first night. When Y/N had first moved in it was August, she left her window open and without the shade down to let as much fresh cool air in as possible. With her jet lag, she had found herself wide awake at about three am. Pacing around her room in the pink silk tank dress she had decided to sleep in, her eyes froze on her window - or rather, who she saw through her window. The light from her room and the moon were strong enough to illuminate the tanned and tattooed skin of the naked man in the room next to her. He held a bowl in his large hands that he seemed to be spooning cereal into his mouth from.

His half-lidded eyes flickered to the light coming from the place next door. The bookshop had been closed all summer and no one had been living in the upper area for a little longer than that so he had gotten into the habit of leaving his window open. He was half drunk after stumbling his way home from the tiny bar down the street. He had decided a naked cereal run would be a good idea to tide over his cravings. But upon seeing the girl wearing lingerie a mere two feet away from him, separated by the screens on their open windows, he realized that wasn’t actually true. His eyes widened only slightly as he saw her, his drunkenness allowing him to keep his blushing to a minimum. His drunken confidence kept him from covering himself as he lifted a single brow and made a salute with his spoon hand before going back to his bed.

She stayed at the window for a moment after the naked man disappeared and then quickly ran back to her bed. She shut off her light and tried not to think about everything she had seen. She tried to not think about his toned arms that flexed as he moved around his food, or the tattoos that lined every part of his body (the tiger and ferns seared into her mind specifically), or his tousled chestnut hair, or his searing green eyes, or the full mustache that held a little milk from his cereal. She tried, she really did. But how was she supposed to face her neighbor ever again after that. Maybe he wasn’t her neighbor, she reasoned, maybe he was an acquaintance her neighbor had just spent the night with. That wouldn’t be better! Her hands grabbed her other pillow and shoved it over her face trying to force herself to go to bed.

The next day, she had been working out front of the bookshop, beginning to repaint the windowsills of the shop with some navy paint she had found in the back to give it an updated look. It was early and she hadn’t expected to see anyone at all. Her jet lag still ailed her and caused her to be up bright and early. This was her second run in with the shoemaker, this time though, both to her dismay and joy, he was fully clothed. He wasn’t watching where he was going and almost toppled the both of them over as he left his store front, locked the door behind him, and then set off down the street. His large body, covered in short black running shorts and a mesh grey tank top, bumped into her almost immediately. He was still fiddling with his music on his phone as he began his run. She jumped back and dropped the paintbrush from her hand. She yelped as his body collided with hers and he stopped in his tracks. His eyes scanned her and took in the light wash cuffed jeans and moss ribbed tank top she was wearing. They widened when he recognized her face, the expression of shock similar to that of last night when she had seen him in his bedroom. He smirked and took out one of his earbuds. She grabbed her paintbrush from the ground as he extended his hand to her.

“I’m Harry,” his hand is greeted with hers. He speaks to her in English and she decides it’s probably best to follow along with whatever someone else began with. She worried that she’d run into a lot of Italians who didn’t know French or English and she’d have some trouble. His eyes flicker to the bits of blue already littered on her hands and in her hair.

“Y/N.” She nods, avoiding eye contact with the man she had already seen too much of. At least he’s not your neighbor’s lover, he’s just your neighbor. She also notices how he doesn’t apologize for running into her.

“You were spying on me last night,” his hand returns to his side and his smile quirks up again as he watches her face flush. His nicely groomed mustache twitches, trying to contain his laughter.

“I was not!” She finally looks up at the taller man and takes in his tanned face that is even more attractive in the morning light and up so close. The hat he wears is funny, a blue trucker’s hat that read “If you ain’t a fisherman, you ain’t shit!”, and she would laugh if she couldn’t already tell he was going to be extremely annoying.

His smirk continues and he barks out a laugh. He removes his sunglasses to really look at her now. “It’s alright, I work hard for this,” he gestures to his body, “glad someone appreciates it. Just means I’ll need to be installing a shade now, I guess.”

“You don’t have a shade and you walk around your room naked?” She ignores his first bit of conversation. She can’t think about his body or how it had looked last night. She sets down her paintbrush and folds her arms across her chest, trying to figure the man in front of her out.

“No… but it’s not all my fault. You had your shade open too! Who’s willingly up at that time of night anyway? I was just fixing myself a snack after the pub.” He raises his brows triumphantly at her, feeling confident that he has gotten the upperhand in the conversation.

She narrows her eyes at him as she finally registers that his accent isn’t Italian or French. He’s British and she wonders what he’s done to get himself in this little border town. He also seems to own the shop beside her since he locked the door behind him. He was peculiar, but she couldn’t dwell on what she thought about him since he had just accused her of being a peeping tom.

“Someone is up at that hour because she just moved and has terrible jet lag and can’t sleep. The place has been completely closed up for months and I needed to get as much cool air in as possible before the hot day. That’s why I was up and that’s why my shade wasn’t down.” She stands up straighter and rolls her eyes at him, muttering something in French to herself about annoying men. She smiles to herself when Harry doesn’t seem to understand. He obviously can tell she said something, but he doesn’t know exactly what. He could understand a good bit of French and he could speak some, but if someone spoke quickly and quietly, like she had just done, he wouldn’t be able to make it out. He figured it was something rude, though, with the way she sounds and begins to turn from him.

“Are you here to stay?”

“Yes.”

“Well, welcome to the best place in the world. It was so nice, two countries couldn’t decide who got to keep it and decided to split it.”

His arm sweeps out around him, gesturing to the street around him. She smiles up at him before following his arms movement. His arm had more tattoos than she had realized from her eyeful last night. She noticed the intricacies of all the black ink and again she had a million questions that she had to keep to herself. He was arrogant, conceited, impatient and a little bit odd and she knew all of this after barely one conversation. At least they could agree on one thing, they loved this town.

He looked back at her after scanning the street and saw her smiling in wonderment at everything around her. This brought a fleeting genuine smile to his face, knowing she was happy to be there. He had known Marie and was sad to see her go less than a year after his great uncle. He had always thought that Marie and Joe were both secretly pining over each other. Constantly stopping into each other’s shops and waving from their windows at each other, but Joe had always shaken his head at Harry when he mentioned it.

His smile faded when her eyes came back to his fac face face. Her smile disappeared as well. “Right, so, see you around…?” He said, already forgetting her name. She scoffs when she realizes what happened and then repeats her name. He nods curtly before replacing his sunglasses and single airpod and starts running again. She calls after him, “Thanks for the apology!” and then mutters to herself, “le con” knowing she shouldn’t shout that down the street where other people speak French. He doesn’t hear any part of it, his music up high enough to drown out the sounds of the world.

Y/N settled into the bookshop fairly easily, but she never failed to mention how unhelpful Harry had been:

“Yes, well, it’s been going pretty good...except for this one man. Well, I’d hardly call him a man - a boy. My neighbor, actually, he owns the shoe shop...no, nevermind that, he practically made it his mission to make my move the hardest thing in the world...Harry -- yes, that’s his name, Mama… well I don’t know, It’s just Harry. - it doesn’t matter! He’s been in my way at every turn… yes, both physically and metaphorically...I’m not kidding! And I’m not being dramatic… Well, It was nice talking to you. Love you, talk soon.”

That was her first telephone conversation with her mother since arriving in the little town. Maybe ten days after she arrived. Naturally, she had it in the downstairs area of her home, the bookstore. And naturally, Harry had wandered in, to discuss one of their shared planters, and overheard her entire side of the conversation and gathered the rest from his own imagination. When she had laid eyes on him after setting down her phone, she rolled her eyes at the smirking Chesire cat look on his face.

“You would be the kind of man to eavesdrop, hm?” She restacked a group of books that were already in order.

“Thought I was a boy?” his smirk remained on his face. He strided closer to the counter she stood behind.

“Like I said...What can I help you with?” Her voice drips with venom as she finally turns her eyes to look at Harry. His smirk still remains on his face now that she is making eye contact with him. He’s clad in a t-shirt that has some baseball team on it with burgundy corduroy flared jeans. She notices the strain of the shirt over his chest and biceps and avoids the scoff of how vain he must be to keep himself in that good of shape for tending a shoe store in the South of France, or rather Northern Italy…

“Right, Thought I’d pop in and tell you that one of our planters is shared. So you’ll have to talk to me before replanting anything. I noticed you coming in with tulips the other day.”

“The ones on the front of the street?” He nods as her head turns to glance out the front window. “Why the hell do we share a planter?”

“Because, my late great Uncle Joe and Marie fancied each other.” Her eyes went wide at his words, trying to think of Marie having a crush on someone. “They were never together, never admitted the fancying, but they always did the planters together. They each had one of their own and then bought the third together, said it made sense to make the shops look nice...I know it was just so they had more to tend to - together.”

She hums, taking in everything that he said and how his eyes shine slightly just at the mention of his uncle. His voice had perked at the story he had just spun for her and she smiles thinking about the idea of love and loving someone so much that you’re content with simply planting flowers together. It seemed really old-fashioned to her, but it also brought even more charm to the town she now called home. Romance was still alive here, or so she hoped.

“Okay, I’ll make sure to let you know when I’ve decided what flowers I want to put in there.” She turns around, assuming the end of the conversation and getting back to work. She doesn’t really find a reason to entertain Harry anymore than necessary. Like she told her mother, he was constantly in her way or being naked in his room, something she had chosen to leave out of her conversation with her mom.

“You’ve misunderstood me. Maybe my English is getting rusty, I rarely speak it since everyone else knows Italian.” She flips around at his rude comment, eyes alight with fire once again. “If you want to replant anything, which I don’t understand why you would, the flowers I put are wonderful, we’ll have to discuss it. It’s not you just telling me you’ll be doing it. We own it equally and I won’t let you bulldoze my hard work.”

“On a planter?!”

She sticks on a sickly sweet smile as she tries to refrain from laughing. “I guess the countryside really can make some people enjoy the simpler things in life…” With that she walks to the back of the shop, leaving the stunned Harry to see himself out of it. When the little bell rings, her stifled laughter can be heard among the books.

It doesn’t matter what it is, Harry and Y/N are able to make a fuss about anything and the whole street, if not the whole town, had quickly figured that out. No one had a problem with Y/N, they welcomed her with open arms. Marie had told the entire French side and a good amount of the Italian side how wonderful and tenacious she was. How Y/N reminded Marie of her sister and upon meeting her, many agreed. But the first time Harry and Y/N had a public row, at the bakery in the center of town, on the French side, everyone was quick to realize that there was bound to be trouble between the two. It was a stark contrast to the loving comments and endearing looks the previous owners had always engaged in when they were still alive. This fight was maybe a few days after the planter business and Y/N had tried in the following days to get him to change the planters to no avail so she was in an especially pissed off mood towards Harry.

“Could you be taking any longer?” Y/N rolled her eyes as she stood behind her tall neighbor, her foot impatiently tapping a beat against the stone floor.

Harry stood hunched in front of the display case, scanning for exactly what he wanted and desperately trying to remember what he had come here for. He was a bit more dressed up that day, his mother had been coming to visit him for the first time in a while and he wanted to look nice and have a special treat for her when she arrived. His trousers were a deep navy that matched the navy of the stripes on his sweater vest, the blue pinstripes of the button down underneath was a slightly lighter shade, but blue nonetheless. He had rolled up his sleeves past his elbows, showing off his various tattoos and sinewy arms. As his eyes scanned over the case again, he ran through his mental list and bit at his lip, knowing he was forgetting something. He barely even heard her drawl out her insult, the tapping of her foot eventually getting his attention due to its faltering.

She straightened upright from her hip jutted position when he didn’t even bite at her unkind words. Her foot stopping its melody. As she was about to give another go, Harry turned around and she gave him her full look of displeasure.

“Country life requires a bit of patience. I doubt you’ve ever had to wait your turn in your life, but you’ll have to get used to it here.”

Her eyes roll instinctively. She noticed that they seemed to do it just at the mention of his name or the sound of his voice. She had always thought herself a lover of the British accent, citing Downton Abbey and various famous musicians - Freddie Mercury, George Harrison, Elton John, etc. - as members of that little island who were formative to her identity, loving them for their talents as well as their accent. Yet with Harry’s deep meandering British voice, she found herself wishing to be anywhere but in its presence. She found that he took so long to ever get out an actual full thought and when he did it was barely coherent. He also never failed to let his sarcasm or smugness drip into his tone, causing her to audibly be aware of the smirk on his face even if she couldn’t see it. The image flashing across her mind no matter what.

“You’ll have to let me know when you’ll be here again…” His eyebrows quirk at her odd response and it’s her turn to smirk up at him. She’s already satisfied with her quip even though she’s only gotten half of it out. His mouth opens to question her, but she finishes her thought. “That is, so I can plan around you. If I have to alot a whole day to the boulangerie just waiting for you… I’ll never get settled.”

Harry scoffs and a fleeting expression of actual offense flashes across his features before turning around to finish his order. The others in line and the worker are all equally wide eyed and she hears some hushed whispering behind her, but it’s in Italian so she can’t make it out. The worker eyes Y/N as she rings up the rest of Harry’s chosen items. The worker smiles softly at Harry, feeling for the man she had known long enough to know that he wasn’t as rude as he was being with Y/N. She was also taken aback at Y/N’s response, but hadn’t seen her be rude otherwise so she had to assume it simply had something to do with the man.

When Harry is all set, he turns to leave and pass Y/N again. His eyes narrow and his words once again are turned nasty. “I wouldn’t mind if you never got settled,” he said before muttering something in Italian under his breath and leaving the store. She assumed it to be nasty as she eyed the couple behind her giggling, before walking to talk with the worker.

She shook her head trying to rid herself of her cold exterior that she kept having to conjure up for Harry. Now smiling, she asks for her items in French, happy to be speaking the language that brought her so much joy rather than English which seemed to be reserved only for Harry now. She hadn’t gone to the Italian side very much yet and the people she had met over there so far had spoken French to her once she had introduced herself.

As the worker finished with Y/N’s order, she asked in a hushed tone, in French, “How do you know Mr. Styles?”

“Harry?” Y/N guessed, not actually knowing Harry’s last name until now. The girl behind the counter smiles quickly before nodding. “Mon voison” she sighs and contains the accompanying eye roll when she sees the girl blush at the idea of being neighbors with Harry. “He’s a brat,” she continues and the girl laughs lightly before saying, “I think he’s rather sweet… not bad to look at either.” She looks out the window of the shop wistfully, like Harry’s still there and Y/N whips her head around, afraid he knew that she was talking about him. Thankfully, he was gone and Y/N laughs to herself when she feels the anxiety that had gripped her for a moment dissipates. Shaking her head at the girl, she grabs her items and change from her before making a break for the door.

It was soon after that incident that Harry and Y/N’s squabbles became notorious throughout the little town. Drama wasn’t common there and any sort of excitement was the talk of the town. It made sense that this was snapped up by the gossipers from the French and Italian sides alike.

Anne, Harry’s mother, was stopped the next day, when she was out for coffee and Harry was still at the shop, and was asked why her son was so angry at the new bookshop owner. She thought it made sense for her to drop into the bookshop next to her son’s shop after hearing that. Walking into the shop, she was greeted with the smell of lavender and the sweet melody of a love song. She immediately smiled at the charm of the bookstore, feeling like there was a bit more life in it then there had been the last time she had come in. Harry had told her that Marie had passed, but not that someone new had taken over and she was eager to meet them, especially now that she had been told about the town gossip.

A messy haired, but bright eyed Y/N came trotting out of the bookshelves at the sound of the door opening. A smile beamed on her face when she saw the mature brunette woman standing just inside the doorway. “Bonjour! Bienvenue!” She greets as she smooths some of her unkempt hair. Y/N had been digging around the back shelves of the store searching for a specific book one of her other customers had asked about yesterday. And much to her dismay, she wasn’t being very successful. When the woman only says “Bonjour” and makes no inclination that she plans to speak more French, Y/N believes it’s safe to assume she’s a tourist and switches to English. “Can I help you?”

Anne laughs happily to hear English and walks over to the counter that Y/N had walked behind. “Yes, Hi! My son lives here and I’ve just come to visit him. He didn’t tell me someone had taken over Marie’s shop.” Y/N perks at the name of Marie and she smiles sincerely at the woman now. Not quite a tourist, yet not quite a local, she noted for herself.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N. I was a friend of Marie’s, so to say, and she left me the place.” Pausing, Y/N turns over the vinyl that had just finished side A, and then returns to her place at the counter. “I’m still really new, but it’s a small town. I don’t know of many other people who weren’t born here who live here, though, who’s your son?” She rests her elbows on the counter and leans on them while staring at the kind woman. She had noticed the British accent, but hadn’t connected the dots yet. It wasn’t uncommon for people to have a British accent when they spoke English so it didn’t necessarily mean she was from England. But maybe Y/N should have noticed the light eyes and brown hair, maybe that should have been an indicator as well. Or the way she had said ‘my son’ and nodded in the way of the shoe shop. But no matter what, it came as a shock when the woman with the coffee in hand said what she said next.

“My son is your neighbor! He runs the shoe repair shop. His great uncle, my ex-husband’s uncle, left it to him a couple years ago.” Y/N’s eyes widen so much so that she has to blink a few times to assure herself they haven’t popped out of her head.

“Harry...is your son?” She speaks slowly and Anne smiles at the girl. She nods and Y/N nods back, taking the news in. He has a mother...she guessed she should have expected that. It had been unlikely that her theory of him being sent straight from hell to make her life just like it was accurate.

“Here you are mum! What are you doin’ in here?” Harry rushes through the door when he sees his mother inside from the window. Y/N rolls her eyes on cue, but still notices the soft adoring look on his face while he gazes at his mother. She supposes she can concede that he isn’t the spawn of satan now. His look hardens when he turns to Y/N, who has straightened up to her full height upon his arrival.

“I was just meeting the new bookshop owner, Y/N!” She looks between Harry and Y/N. “What’s this about you being angry with her?” She asks more to Harry, but Y/N hears easily. Harry’s eyes flash at Y/N and her eyes widen once again, but shrugs to Harry, having no idea where his mother had gotten that idea.

“What did you say-”

“I didn’t say anything! I’d just realized she was your mother right before you walked in!”

“It’s true. Someone said something about it to me at the coffee shop. Of course, I didn’t even know the book shop even had a new owner, so I decided to come by.”

“It’s nothing, mum,” Harry insists.

“Harry and I...we just don’t exactly see eye to eye. But, I’m sure we’ll warm up to each other eventually,” she easily lies through her teeth, knowing she really couldn’t see herself ever being friends with this prick. “Feel free to look around the shop, it’s not exactly to my liking yet, but then again, I am just getting settled. Otherwise, you two should enjoy your time together. I’m sure it’s not often you can make the time to journey all the way out here.” She smiles sweetly at Anne, choosing to ignore Harry completely.

“Thank you, Y/N. Harry can be an acquired taste for some, but just below that exterior of his, he’s a giant softy.” Harry groans at his words, Y/N’s smile only grew.

“Au revoir! Good Day!” She calls when they leave the shop rather swiftly. It seemed to her that Harry was desperate to get his mother out of the shop as soon as possible, while Anne was happy to browse and look at what had been changed in the shop.

Their early unhappy encounters were now months ago. But encounters of a similar caliber happened at least once a week. It’s hard to avoid a neighbor who you seem to find anything they do to be an annoyance, even their existence. They saw each other around town and at their shops and in their bedrooms. Even though they didn’t particularly like each other, hated was actually the correct word, the drawing of the shades was a near impossible task with the heat that plagued the little town between August and Mid-October.

They had fought over who could leave their shade open and who couldn’t because Harry believed only one of them had to close it to maintain privacy but then he wouldn’t settle on an agreement on taking turns closing shades. Y/N argued that they could both leave them open if he would agree to stop walking around his room naked all the time, but he refused that as well, at first. He conceded after a week of having his shade drawn that he would wear boxers. Therefore, practically every night, Y/N and Harry would see each other before bed since they actually seemed to have the same sleep habits. Sometimes she would have to yell at him to close his window if he came home with a guest and he would yell at her to turn off her light if she was reading or watching television in bed too late.

Thankfully, it was approaching the end of October and the weather would begin to change. There wouldn’t be a reason to have the window or shade open and they at least wouldn’t have to see each other right before bed.

This morning, Y/N is up early, she found it amazing to wake up early here, something she had never done before this little border town. It was teaching her new things about herself and changing her, but she liked it. In deep forest green flared pants and a long sleeved rainbow striped shirt, Y/N is watering the planters in front of her shop as well as the little ones attached below the windows. It was always a little cool in the mornings, but she had checked her weather app and seen that it was actually going to be the first cold day of the season. The first cold day since she had arrived actually. As much as she liked the sun, she also loved fall and winter, so she was excited to experience them for the first time in the little border town.

She smiles to herself as she moves around gracefully. In her back pocket, her music plays softly, Paul Simon sings lovingly to her. She hums along and moves to deal with the planter at the edge of the sidewalk. But she’s foiled by a man she seems to think about far too much for how much she says she dislikes him. Harry jogs back a half step upon realizing he has run into her yet again. One would assume that one of them would either change their routine or know to step out of the way or really just be a little bit more aware of their surroundings with how many times this has happened since Y/N’s arrival. Of course, their stubborn personalities actually require them to be unrelenting in this area of their lives as well. Much like the shade debate, the who was in the way of who debate is still majorly undecided.

“Oi!” He looks down at his shirt and it has a substantial wet spot on it. She had spilled some of the watering can’s contents.

“Excuse you!” She says simultaneously, not realizing she’d gotten water on him.

“I’m not the one who just threw water on someone.”

“Neither am I. You ran into me, it’s not my fault you never look where you’re going.”

“You’re just always in my way. This has been my route for ages, I’m not going to change it just because you moved in next door.” His hands fly around in annoyance and anger.

“You’re unbelievable!”

“Well! I can’t stand you!

“Clearly!” “Cleary.” They’re both huffing out insults that don’t seem to really be going anywhere. Harry has straightened his posture for once and she actually finds his true height slightly intimidating. They both breath for a moment, finding no other words to fill the tranquil morning silence that they had just disturbed.

“Are we ever going to have a conversation where we’re not at each other’s throats?” She sighs, feeling upset that the nice Fall day was suddenly ruined for the rest of time just because of this.The bickering with Harry was tedious and she couldn’t keep going like this. Being in a completely new place and running a small business was hard enough as it is. Something snapped in her just then, hoping to squash a part of her life that is causing her stress and exhaustion.

Harry’s expression falters, his eyes losing that glint of angered passion for a moment, he wasn’t expecting that response. It wasn’t necessarily mean, it was more like she was resigned. Simply done with the conversation. He felt his anger and annoyance slip away rather quickly at her question. She sees his mustache twitch, which she realized happened when he was either amused or confused. She didn’t think what she said was funny so she presumed he wasn’t sure what to make of what she had just said. Her head tilts to the side and waits for his response. Her watering can falls to her side now, making herself a little more comfortable and leaving only a small amount of air between her and Harry.

“Tired out already? Thought you were more of a competitor than that.” He mirrors her by tilting his head as well.

“I didn’t realize we were in any sort of competition.” She stepped forward and straightened her posture a little, feeling challenged by the tone he had taken. She may have a kind and soft exterior for most, but she was nothing if not fierce in her core. She was an Aries afterall. She wondered what Harry might be, she wasn’t super into astrology, but she was sure that he wasn’t an Aries. Aries were fiery and passionate and were very unwilling to admit defeat, so he had just hit the exact right note to keep her from squashing their now long-standing quarrel.

“We’re not. I just thought I had met my match, guess I was wrong.”

He looks off in the distance to be nonchalant, like he wasn’t trying to bait her even if that’s exactly what he was going for. Sure, he found her annoying, for whatever reason. But he had realized when she had posed the question, that he hadn’t had this much excitement in a while. Nothing and no one really challenged him in the little border town, his work was easy enough, money wasn’t tight, friends were easily made, and partners for the night were easy to find. He didn’t dislike any of those facts, truly, he counted himself lucky and was overjoyed that he lived there. But the verbal sparring he engaged in with Y/N fulfilled a need he hadn’t realized was going unsatisfied. He would never admit it, but she was often a highlight of his day. Getting into a little quarrel with her brought a smile to his face when he recalled it later. The bird she had started to flip him before bed made him genuinely laugh. He liked it, so when she seemed to want it to end, he did what he knew would make her change her mind. Tease her.

“I see...bonne journée, cul.” She decided to bid him farewell, knowing he didn’t plan on apologizing any time soon. She turned her body from him and Harry understood enough French that she had ended the conversation with a “good day”. He also knew that she had called him an “ass” as well. His brows raised for a moment at the insult before giving a flicked salute in her direction and jogging off for his morning run.

For some reason, after a moment of knowing Harry had gone she glanced up in his direction and watched his retreating figure. And for some reason she found herself looking back down at the flowers and smiling to herself. Somewhere inside her she was glad Harry hadn’t given into her veiled request to stop fighting. It was a strange sensation because as tiring it was to bicker with him, she feared if they stopped then they would stop talking at all and her heart panged at the thought. She didn’t know why and she didn’t care to know why either.

The bell of the book shop chimes and Y/N pops up from behind the counter. She had been crouched out of sight trying to organize the books of notes on customers Marie had left that Y/N had only just found. She hadn’t realized the cabinet existed in the counter so when she accidentally slid it open she was a little taken aback. Still, she was quickly distracted by the new customer. Her cream collared shirt was unbuttoned to where her collarbone and decalotage were on display, some gold medallions hanging around her neck today. Her worn light wash blue jeans were barely visible behind the counter due to her height. In her hair was a classic red bandana, pulling back her hair out of her face save for the strands that worked themselves free on their own accord.

Her smile was wide, happy to see the first customer of the day as she pinched at her shirt to make sure it was in place. Her posture slumped immediately when she realized that her first customer wasn’t a likely customer at all, instead who else but Harry. A mischievous glint in his eyes as he strolled in and right up to the counter. He leaned his large body down to rest his head in his hands and look up at her. He crossed one ankle over his other, getting comfortable as he stared wickedly up at her.

She wet her lips and took a step back. It was her first look at him today, apparently missing him on his morning run. Maybe she should have thought something of that after their encounter yesterday, but she didn’t. Like most days, his trousers were high waisted, Gucci likely - how he afforded them, she had no clue - and his usual shirt had now been accompanied with a striped red, black, and yellow open cardigan. His hair looked wet like he had just taken a shower, most of it was pushed up but a few strands fell over his large forehead. His mustache looked freshly trimmed and the rest of his facial hair had yet to leave any shadow after his obvious shave.

“Harry.” She says definitively, regarding him with even contempt.

“Ice Queen.” He levels, eyes narrowing.

She scoffs immediately. “At least give me something original...or accurate maybe. I may not like you, but ice queen? Hardly.”

He genuinely chuckles at her quick response and nods, agreeing easily with her for once. “You’re right. It was weak, I’ll admit. Feel like you need a nickname though, thought something really rude might upset you.” He smirks cheekily. His agreement doesn’t make her feel like she’s won at all, unsurprisingly.

She rolls her eyes at his comment. “Care to let me know why you’re gracing me with your presence today, Mr. Styles?” Moving around the counter, she begins to walk to the back of the shop, assuming Harry would follow her if he needed to. He apparently did and walked after her after realizing she wasn’t coming back.

He gives a half-laugh, “Yeah, I came in for a new record. I saw you decided to restock them...thought I’d pop in. It’s easier to get them here than order online...Curtain-hater.” He adds the name as an afterthought.

She glances at him from the bookcase she’s standing at, her eyes shifting to meet his. A smile fades into her features as she can’t contain the giggle at his new attempt at a nickname. She then wrinkles her nose, “That isn’t good either, but proficient try, I guess.” She gives him points for actually relating the name to her in some way, but it still doesn’t incite any anger in her which she knows is what he is going for. She probably should question herself why she’s helping Harry to nickname her something rude, but alas, she doesn’t. He nods solemnly, knowing she’s right again. He needs to find a nickname for her and he doesn’t know why, but he’s glad she seems alright with him giving her one, so long as it is fitting.

Her body shifts from the bookcase over to the boxes she had gotten to hold the vinyls. She had a small collection since the place was small overall, but Marie’s old collection had sold successfully so she had restocked afterwards, this time choosing some of her personal favorites.

“I’m not sure of your taste...I know you bought Marie’s Ella Fitzgerald album last time.” She sifts through the records, trying to find something she thought he might want. Like she said, she didn’t know what he liked, but she prided herself on knowing music and as an owner helping a customer, she wanted to please Harry. She knew he liked Ella from his previous purchase and she knew he liked Marvin Gaye in the evenings when he had guests - how very cliche she would add. “I mostly got in 70’s/80’s rock...Elton, Queen -”

“Got any Paul Simon?” Harry cuts her off and she looks at him surprised. Her fingers stopped when she looked up at him, their tips placed on the peaks of the albums covers. “Thought I heard it here the other day?”

Her face perks up at the mention, she loved Paul Simon. “That was on my phone, but I do actually. Well, it’s Simon & Garkunkel. I can order something from just Paul Simon whenever I have to order again if you want?” Their gazes are holding each other’s, her fingers still rubbing over the pointed edges of the two albums she had between her hands. Harry’s watching her and leaning against the table the boxes sit on.

He nods after a moment. “That’d be great.”

“You’ll have to tell me which records of his you already have so I can order something new for you.” She grabs the Simon & Garfunkel album and flips it to Harry so he can look it over.

He regards the Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme cover reading over the fine print with all the tracks listed on the bottom right. “Thanks,” he mutters out after another moment of silence. It was rarely this quiet between these two, so it was different. “I’ll take it, Shrimp.”

“Oh my god!” She gasps before bursting into a fit of laughter. He had actually made her laugh and his eyes widen at the sound, almost confused that she hadn’t scoffed. Her laughter was far louder now then the half-hearted chuckle she had given earlier, which really was probably just another scoff. This laugh was loud and unbridled, but melodic and fun. In the back of Harry’s mind, he noted that he liked it. The first bullet point on a list that was likely to grow. “That works, just the perfect amount of rude. I love and hate it at the same time.” She finishes before walking back to the front. Harry saunters after her, pleased with himself.

“I’d like to say I wasn’t looking for your approval, but I guess I sorta was,” he ponders out loud as she takes the record back from him to type in the correct spelling into her relatively new computerized system. She twists her mouth to the side of her face to refrain from smiling anymore and then hums. Her eyes flit back up to Harry’s triumphant smile and for once she doesn’t want to slap it off of him.

“People-pleaser…” She prods him easily. His smile falters only slightly, not out of unhappiness, but of borderline jealousy.

“How do you come up with that so easily? It just rolls off the tongue,” He asks seriously, confused by the woman before him. This time she laughs as she hands him back the record and a copy of his receipt.

“I’m well read, that usually helps, but maybe it’s just my intrinsic wit that gives me an edge,” she raises her brows slightly, before beginning to walk off now that their exchange is done. She’s surprised she doesn’t want to rip her hair out after that encounter, but she figures she should simply count her blessings. “Au revoir, trouser-boy!”

He rolls his eyes as he turns on his heel and exits the shop, amused rather than annoyed with the bookkeeper.

enjoy! lmk what you thought :) part 2

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #once the slow burn ends #harry styles angst #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #enemies to lovers!harry #enemies to lovers #slow burn #the france italy one is a fever dream au #little border town #not proofread at all

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peakyscillian · 3 years ago

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| The Year Later | Cillian x Reader | Mini-Series |

Summary: A year after your first date. This is 100% Fluff, sickening, tooth rotting Fluff. Warnings: Age gap (Reader is in her 20's), Smut reference maybe. Request: Part one was a request. A/N:Like always no disrespect to Cillian's family, this is basically an AU where he's single.

The Year Later | Mini-Series

Part one here, Part two here, Part three here & Part four here Masterlist You and Ella had finally arrived in Manchester, the guys had a few days break from filming Peaky Blinders, you'd made plans with Cillian to travel up and be with him.

It was coming up close to your year anniversary.

You'd both admitted you didn't really celebrate anniversaries but he'd already been away for a few months and it just felt right.

Ella had planned the evening on the drive up, sat next to you in the passenger seat discussing different bars and restaurants you could all go out to, before you got to spend the two days after with just Cillian.

*** Cillian was pacing around the back of the restaurant, Helen was sat watching him "you need to relax" she sighed, he turned to look at her "What if she says no?" he asked stopping his pacing.

Helen laughed lightly "Seriously Cill?"

He nodded, a serious look on his face "Seriously, it's a lot to ask someone" he laughed lightly, Helen stood up reaching out to squeeze his arm.

"She's so in love with you, she won't even have to think about it" Helen smiled before leaving the room, in search of a drink to bring Cillian, to calm his nerves.

***

Ella linked her arm through yours as you got out of the car, Cillian and Paul had agreed to meet you at the restaurant after finishing up some scenes close by.

You felt nervous you hadn't seen Cillian in about three months, the longest you'd been apart since you got together, Ella was busy on her phone as you headed to the entrance,

You pushed open the door to the restaurant, the maitre d greeted you with a smile, giving over your name he led you towards the back room, you turned to frown at Ella who just shrugged with a smile.

The maitre d opened the door for you both, you were busy talking to Ella to notice the room half full with friends of Cillian, from Peaky Blinders, people you had got to know over the past year who you would also consider friends. Your mouth fell open at the sight in front of you as you finally turned round, Cillian was down on one knee a jewelery box open, the simple diamond ring catching the light. He cleared his throat "I know it's been a year, which is probably too soon in most people's eyes but I've never felt this way before and trust me I'm in my forties I've had time" you laughed at his comment, catching Helen rolling her eyes with a smirk. "What I want to say is, I've had the most amazing year with you, getting to know each other, finding great restaurants, avoiding award shows, mixing you gin and lemonades after dates, while you sit on my sofa and make me feel like you've always been there" he continued.

You nodded slowly, feeling your hands turning warm in his grasp, the feeling of everyones eyes on you. "I've already settled the having you around all the time by finally convincing you to move in with me" you laughed lightly His blue eyes locked with yours "but I want to know if you want to be mine for the rest of your life, our life and marry me?" he finally asked, you were nodding frantically tears rolling down your cheeks. "Yes, Cillian, yes" you gasped out, breathless at the speed of your heart pounding, he stood up pushing the ring on your finger. "Well thank fuck it fits, eh?" he laughed cupping your cheeks, thumbs brushing the tears away. "Spent so many evenings trying to smuggle a ring from your dish on your bedroom side" he laughed finally pressing his lips with yours, in a soft kiss.

You laughed, arms looping around his neck "does this mean that we have to attend award shows now, because it's official and everything" you hiccuped through another wave of tears.

Cillian laughed "We've been official for a year, I just hate award shows"

Paul was the first one over, pulling you both into a hug and congratulating you followed by Helen and Joe. *** Everyone had settled in the private room, Cillian hadn't unlinked your fingers until the food was served, his lips brushing over your cheek as you all caught up on the past couple of months.

"So fucking happy" he whispered in your ear, when everyone was either busy eating or talking.

You turned to him a smile on your lips, your eyes gazing over the ring sat on your finger . "Me too, Cill" you pressed your lips to his, his tongue sneaking past your lips, hand cupping your cheek.

"Alright, Alright" Finn laughed from across the table "having a moment over there while people are trying to eat" he tutted.

You pulled away from Cillian, picking up your wine glass "Finn, you'll always be my number one Cole" you winked as Joe laughed from the end of the table "but I've got myself an older man" you shrugged taking a sip of your wine.

Cillian squeezed your thigh as he laughed "sorry mate, stole your girl" Finn rolled his eyes "you're both unbelievable" he chuckled turning to catch up with Ella.

***

You were laying in the bed, in the apartment Cillian used for when he was filming in Manchester.

Cillian had been in the kitchen for a while, you'd managed remove your make up, get into your pyjamas and chucked your hair into a messy bun.

Finally he was pushing through the door, two glasses of champagne in his hands. "Thought we could celebrate alone" he mused, kicking the door closed gently behind him.

He handed you the glass, "you gave me this a few hours ago" you giggled holding your hand out to him.

He caught it bringing it up to his lips kissing the knuckle above the engagment ring "I know, and you agreed to marry me" he slipped under the duvet, tapping his glass against yours "can't wait for you to be my wife" he confessed.

You moved closer to him "can't wait for you to be my husband, Mr Murphy" you took a small sip from the glass, the bubbles popping against your lips.

Cillian shifted under the covers, his free hand palming over himself over his boxers, you laughed lightly "You like that huh?" he took your glass placing it on the bedside table.

As he turned round he pulled you into him, kissing you "Mr Murphy sounds amazing coming from your mouth" he sighed nipping down your neck, hand moving under your cami top, cupping at your bare breast.

You're fingers brushed over the harsh shaved sides of his head, this was the first time you'd seen his iconic Tommy haircut in person, It was hot, when he'd first FaceTimed you he'd been grumbling about how much he hated it.

"This hair" you almost groaned, pressing your thighs together, he dropped his head into the dip between your breasts.

Letting out a deep laugh against your skin "not you as well" he looked up at you, biting at your lip

"it's really hot Mr Murphy" you batted your eyes lashes as he moved up to devour your lips with his.

**** Taglist (Let me know if you want to be added)

@queenshelby @elenavampire21 @lawfeys @janelongxox @datewithgianni @missymurphy1985 @lawfeys @otterly-fey @vhscillian @magicalpieex @cloudofdisney @uchihacumdump @being-worthy

#Cillian Murphy #Cillian x fem!reader #the date series #my writing #requests open #taglist #Cillian x y/n #Cillian fluff

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junova · 4 years ago

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↬ 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐭 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

abstract: the one where steve finds your love letters.

pairing: au!steve x fem!reader

word count: 3K+

warnings: cussing, fluff, angst, crying, slight self-deprecation.

[author’s note]: hey guys! i’m really new to the writing scene so kind words are appreciated! srsly just testing my writing style out and wanted to just post something to motivate me to keep writing. hope u like it. <3

also thank u ari for the inspo and that bomb ass album that saved twenty-twenty. now we just need biden to get elected.

ps. don’t forget to vote! <3

Stevie,

First and foremost, I want you to know how proud of you I am. You have become the man you’ve said you become, the one I always knew you would. You have finally seen what the rest of us see.

A good man.

The soul you carry within you shines brighter than I’ve ever seen. Just for that only, I’m thankful for the time we’ve spent together. Maybe one day, I’ll be brave enough to tell you this without hiding behind the comfort of this notebook. She won’t spill my secrets, fortunate for me.

Some days you have no idea how badly I want to tell you. I think it’s on the days I discover a new fleck of green in your eyes or maybe when you show up to class with a cup of coffee for me without request.

More. More. More.

It’s selfish of me, that much I know. More days than not, I would say you give too much of yourself away. Always wanting to appease everyone, you, Steven Rogers, the bridge to making the people around you happier than they walked in. Even when Bucky drags you into his nonsense bullshit, you say yes without hesitation.

I’ve got not a a clue on how you continue on, how you still remain you when you tend to spread yourself so thin. Who watches out for you? Who cares for you? Who loves the almighty, selfless Rogers?

For me, it’s much easier to pretend you carry too much on your plate than to deal with the rejection I would receive from you. You’re just too good, more than I deserve. More than I would be willing to take. I know I couldn’t possibly give you what you deserve but, I hope that one day you might see me differently. You would see me more than the light I’ve painted myself in.

Even though the shade is lovely, I want to be deeper. Deeper into you on a level which only seems unattainable at this point.

A forever friend. To be in your life, just as a friend, is an reward in itself.

But someday I hope you would love me in the same way I do. It’s all a love struck girl could do. Hope for the best, bet be prepared for the downfall.

With much love, your forever friend.

Tearing the page away from the binding of the overfilled notebook, dispensing it in the first empty drawer you could find, you abandoned the feelings as soon as the pen’s ink bleed out dry.

“You know it would just be easier to tell him how you feel.” You peaked up at the sound of her voice, before realizing she was looming over you, watching your write the letter.

Your supposed, secret letter.

“Nat, please. No.” Opening the drawer, she grabbed the letter but was surprised with just how many she found.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve written about him multiple times?” You sank in the soft, plush material of your seat hoping that just maybe it would begin to swallow you whole. Hopefully, fast enough were you wouldn’t have to endure the rest of the conversation. One you had been trying to avoid, for the past three years.

“It’s nothing Nat, just forget it.” Just like a Romanov, she couldn’t leave it alone. Even if she tried it was laced in her blood to see any little thing through.

“You really shouldn’t wait so long. A window might close for you, much sooner than you think.” With a curious eyebrow lifted, you felt your breath leave you.

“What does that supposed to mean?” Steve certainly deserved the best and you knew it was only time for him to figure out you would never be enough for him.

“Peggy Carter.” Peggy.

The one girl of a sea of many who had been enamored by Steve. He never really seemed to spend anytime with the women who vied for his attention, but Peggy was surely different than the rest.

Even if Steve was oblivious when it came to the advances everyone would make on him, he saw Peggy. Considering she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, she intimidated you. God, did she ever.

On numerous occasions she and Steve had gone out, and even though he assured you they were just friends you were starting to believe he was only trying to protect your feelings. As a friend.

He had never cancelled on you once for her and he would tell you if he had started to date someone, just like he had before.

Even though the entire three years you’d known him he only had one serious girlfriend and after eight months, the pair broke up and even now he still didn’t budge on why they broke up.

“Steve can do whatever he wants with her. He’s a single man. He’s gone out with her before and he’ll probably go with her again.” Then Sam was the next to speak up, dismissing the total bullshit spouting from your mouth.

“Can’t you see he doesn’t want to? The damn man follows you around like a goddamn puppy.” Okay, when did he even come in here?

“God, fuck, no he doesn’t. He would have said something by now, he’s had three years and it’s been nothing but radio silence.” With an all knowing smirk, Sam proposed a new concept into question.

“It has been three years. So, have you ever said anything to him?”

Shit. Fuck you, Wilson.

“W-Well, not exactly.” Sam didn’t have to say anything in response. You knew he was right and you hated it.

Your unwillingness still stood for you, there was just no way he actually would reciprocate your feelings.

“Listen, I think it would be really good for the both of you to air everything out. Peggy is sinking her claws in him and it isn’t too long before they get stuck. Just talk to him.” You nodded silently, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever have the courage to.

—

Emptiness.

It’s all you seemed to feel today. Following you around was a dark cloud, looming over you. Wishing you could be anywhere but your own body. Nothing in particular happened to make you deserve the feeling you were granted with. It just so happened to be one of those days.

From the moment you got out of bed — or rather stayed in bed until four in the afternoon, you felt like anything you would have done just didn’t feel enough. The feeling was fleeting, never staying for more than a day or so, but it made the day drag on. Never ending.

Your muscles sore, body aching from the lack of activity your presumed. Or maybe you had built it in your head too.

Thankfully for you, Nat was busy helping Bucky move into his new place the entire day. She asked if you wanted to help, but mentally you didn’t feel you would be useful for anyone. Simply, telling her you would hang back, claiming you had another an essay to write.

Which you did, you weren’t completely lying, but there was more than your sour mood to blame for your dismissal of social interaction.

You hated to be that girl, the one who needed the presence of men. Specifically, the company of one very beautiful, blue eyed one.

His absence in your life the past few weeks felt heavier on you than you thought it would. You knew from Sam’s intel he had been hanging out with Peggy more and more. He said the two of them were getting close, mercifully sparing you the details.

You hated it’s you’d become. A girl so damn struck over a boy who was giving his attention elsewhere. Upset you were though. Before even if he was busy between classes and his internship at the gallery, he would still text to check up on you.

Now, it was nothing but radio silence letting you draw conclusions on your own. Very, very dangerous territory for you to travel to.

Steve and you are just friends. Get. Over. It.

You thought you’d be alone the rest of the Saturday, especially since it was nearly midnight. Figuring Nat was staying over at Bucky’s and Wanda leaving earlier in early hours of the morning to see her boyfriend for the entire weekend.

Then, an incredibly drunk Steve stumbled into your quaint apartment, the thoughtfully sweetness in him blubbering out with the alcohol flooding through his system. It was like he was on overdrive. More than ready to crash at any given moment.

You had enough when Steve started shamelessly raiding your kitchen, but you remained on the couch attempting to maintain some distance between the two of you. He had a history of being incredibly handsy whenever he had bit too much to drink.

Stumbling his way over to you, almost tripping on the rug, until he was basically cuddling up to your side. His arms latched tightly around you, pulling you into him. Not spared a choice, not that you’d want one.

The security of being wrapped up to him wasn’t something you ever grew tired of. You don’t think there would ever be a time you would ever be capable of turning him away.

“I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.” His soft tone, penetrating the tiny resistance you held towards him. “Me too. I was starting to think you disappeared on me, bubba.”

“Never.” His iron grip holding so tight like he was afraid you’d slip right through.

“Is everything alright?” Trying to pull from him, but Steve seemed unable to let you go. You whispered in his ear, caressing his back.

“I think so.”

“Here, let me grab you cup of joe and some water. Okay? I’ll be right back.” Leaving him a kiss on the cheek, before heading him into the kitchen.

If you had been around him recently, perhaps you would be more in tune with how he was feeling. Then the guilt sept in.

“Sweetheart, do you know where the phone charger is? It’s not by the recliner.” You heard him shout, trying to stop your heart from hammering into your stomach.

Just make him some coffee, sober him up, until he crashes.

Steve always seemed to be a lightweight and somehow whenever he did decide to drink he always found himself routing his way into your home. You thought it was simply for accident alone. The bar he frequented at was only a few block from you.

The past few times he would just stumble into your bedroom, immediately passing out in your soft, silky sheet. Now, he seemed to have more pressing matters at hand.

“Check the drawers, Stevie. I think there’s one you left around here somewhere.” You grabbed the filters and the grounds out, brewing the coffee. Soon, with a black cup of coffee and a water bottle in hand you took note of just how quite he was being.

He was never this silent and it was freaking you out.

“Are you sure you’re o-”

Just like that.

Fuck.

Hunched over, practically on his knees, he read over the endless letters you wrote about him. Confessions never meant to be seen by him. You lost track of how many you had written over the past few years once realized how irrevocably in love with him you are.

He didn’t realize you had found him and you were suddenly paralyzed. Unaware of your presence he continued to read through them and his expression was unrecognizable. One you’d never seen from him before, and you didn’t quite know how to react.

No. He wasn’t grimacing nor did he seem to be elated either. He just stood there just like you, afraid what would happen next.

What did this mean for the two of you? Your entire relationship was purely riding on whatever happened next.

Softly, with a gentle hand, he sifted through them all like he was looking for something specifically. Steve let them fall to the hardwood floors as your shaking hands could no longer support the weight of the dainty coffee cup he had actually sculpted himself.

The glass shattering everywhere, several pieces making their way towards him, thankfully not fiercely enough to penetrate his skin.

Truly, you had never been more sorry than when he looked up at you with tears in his eyes. Threatening to spill over. Because of you.

You didn’t have to be told, you already knew.

Carefully, Steve stood up making his way over to you around the shattered mug. Still you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Simply just watching him until he was right in front of you — more silent than you’d ever seen him before.

“Those were about me. Weren’t they?” You nodded having no reason to lie other than to protect yourself from a rejection you been hoping to spare yourself from.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this. Or at all really.” Your resolve dropping instantly when Steve took a step further gripping by your hips, pulling you closer.

“Why not?” He questioned you, again. Almost like he needed a verbal affirmation of every secret he had just read.

Unintentionally, stealing your soul served for him on a silver platter.

“I know how you’d feel about me, Steve. It’s not how I want it to be and it’s okay.” You remove yourself from him, traveling to the other side of the living room. Suddenly, the apartment seemed suffocating with him in it. “I’m fine, Steve.”

Hearing him sigh in frustration only furthered your immense feeling of being a burden to him.

You’re just one more obstacle he has to deal with.

“One of them dated back for over two years ago. Two fucking years.” His harsh tone, piercing through you like a knife.

“I know. I should have told you.” You whispered, wishing you could disappear into any abyss that would take you. Deeply wishing you just didn’t have to endure for the rest of this conversation. Wishing you could have stopped him from opening that stupid drawer. “I tell you everything, but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak about this. Look at how you’re reacting? How could you blame me when every fear I have about this is justified?”

You really should have kept those elsewhere, not your open, public living room.

“Because it’s us. I’m always here for you.” He was still crying through broken words and you didn’t know why. Almost like you had shattered his resolve and his control leaving with it.

“Not lately. You’ve been otherwise occupied.” Suddenly find the plant in the corner of the room. It certainly weren’t trying to distract yourself from the insatiable cerulean eyes.

The breathtaking british woman wasn’t even here and as soon as she was brought up — there was a wall. Seperating, you from whatever was between the two of you.

“This isn’t my fault. You never said anything. How was I supposed to know you feel that way about me?” He tried to make his way towards you but you just stalked off in the other direction. Circling around the living room like a coward.

“It didn’t matter though, did it? You found someone perfect for you regardless of how you feel.” God, you wish he would just leave so you could let the dam break.

“No. You don’t get to do that. Since the moment I met you I only had eyes for you, but you never seemed like you were interested. So, I dropped it. Okay? You never left me a crumb to think you would ever want to be more than just friends.”

“You were my best friend. You still are. No matter how I felt, it could never outweigh the need I have for you to be in my life.” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. Trying to figure out what was next for the both of you. Steve always had to initiate and this time was no different.

“Peggy told me tonight she wants to be exclusive.” His confession washing over you like a ton of bricks. Crushing you.

You really couldn’t have any ill feeling towards her, she was just doing what you lacked the courage and the tenacity to do.

“But I didn’t really know what to do.” He took quiet steps towards you, not wanting to spook you. He voice not no longer held the a warmth of teddy bear, but a man on a mission rather took over.

Steve kept quiet until he had you backed up into a corner, no escape route in vision for you.

“’Cause there’s this other beautiful woman, absolutely breathtaking — and I just I really needed to know how she felt. If I had known before, I never would have gone anywhere else.” His hand caressing your soft, plump lips. Pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb, sending you into a frenzy.

“Then, I just wanted to forget about everything until Sam called me. Three beers deep, when he told me of a drawer filled with letters I should take a look at.” You could feel his breath on you, temple pressed against yours.

“I just need to hear you say it. Just once.” Taking it a step forward, intertwining your finger with his own.

“I love you.” It was all he needed as he sealed his own affirmation with a sweet kiss, inking your lips with all of his love.

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