#excuse these chaotic tags i have not slept

[lovinthosecrits]

The Times are Quangling what it means to be a crackship!! Traditionally, Aguefort and Lapin would be a crackship. Primsy and Sid? Cracked. But?? They're technically cannon (ish) now! Even if we don't get fanfic of them! They were on screen and played by their actual actors.

We live in such a beautiful and insane world

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Eleven: Fall Into Me and I'll Catch You Darlin'

dbf!joel x f!reader | WC: 5k | E 18+ mdni

Series Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings. Joel is his own warning. Angst/despair, fluff, smut - this chapter has the works. Please excuse my lack of medical knowledge. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

This is it, folks, the final chapter! Just the epilogue left now. Thank you for coming along on this ride with me. I have fallen in love with this little family and I hope you have as well.

Moodboard by the lovely @mrsmando. Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Chapter Ten | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Four days. Joel hadn’t left your bedside in four days, so immovable that the nurses took pity on him and asked an orderly to setup a cot for him in your hospital room.

You still hadn’t regained consciousness and Joel was losing his god damned mind over it.

The list of your injuries a mile long, among them a bunch of broken things – ankle, nose, ribs, wrist. That’s what you were right now, broken, and you had a hard road to recovery ahead of you. Joel agonized over your condition, freaking out when you had to go back into surgery shortly after coming out of it the first time. He’d barely laid eyes on you before they hauled you away again, machines beeping chaotically at whatever went wrong. You developed a hemorrhage, the doctor later told him, but they caught it in time.

Joel hadn’t stopped crying in four days, except for a brief time when Sarah was discharged. He held her for hours, trying his best not to smother or hurt her as she sat on his lap next to your bed. Aside from a purple cast on Sarah’s broken wrist, her limited injuries were already healing. Joel’s worry over his sweet little girl lessened a bit and he trusted Tommy, your dad, and your best friend, Emily, to watch over her while he sat vigil at your bedside. They brought Sarah by to see you twice a day, every day so far. Still, you hadn’t woken up.

He lost it the first time Sarah saw you lying there, barely recognizable from the injuries you sustained. Face bruised and swollen, body wrapped in casts or dressings. Sarah worried that you were dying, nearly inconsolable at the thought that you might die, might leave her, and her dad, forever. She couldn’t handle it, the thought of losing the only mom she’d ever known, ever wanted.

Joel had to leave the room at his daughter’s visceral expression of the pain she felt, her inconsolable weeping a reflection of his own anguish. He left Tommy to deal with it, and slid down the wall in the hallway, just a little way down from your room, shoulders shaking from the strength of his own sobs as the sound of Sarah’s caterwauling carried through the air. JB was the only one who could reach him through his pain, the understanding of one father for another as they both shed endless tears over you. He sat next to Joel, right there in the hallway, and wept with him, whispering words of praise of how strong you were, how much you loved them all, how you would pull through.

Joel fought hard to believe those words, to trust in JB’s hope as he was quickly losing his. He raged inside at how unfair life could be until he exhausted himself emotionally and fell into a dreamless daze in the cot next to you. When the sun rose above the horizon, he stopped trying to sleep, stopped pretending that he could while you remained unconscious.

“Come on, son. Go home and shower, take a nap in a real bed. You haven’t slept in days. I’ll watch over Spud, and you’ll be my first call if anything happens,” JB insisted the morning of day 5 at the sight of heavy bags beneath the younger man’s eyes.

Opening his mouth to argue, to adamantly refuse, Joel snapped it shut at the concerned look on your dad’s face. He gave into the exhaustion then, all the fight fleeing him, and he stood with shoulders hunched. He was completely deflated, emotionally and physically. “Ok, you’re right. I at least need a shower.”

“That you do. I could smell you down the hall.” Joel’s lips twitched at JB’s comedic effort, but he didn’t have it in him to smile or laugh. “Go on, git. Emily’s at your house with Sarah. She’ll stay while you nap – please try to get some sleep. I don’t want to see you for at least three hours, ya hear me, son?”

Joel nodded and kissed the small spot on your face free of bruising, slinking from the room with one last glance over his shoulder at you. He noticed how your dad kept calling him son – a new development since the accident and it warmed his heart in a way that he sorely needed during this torturous time.

The drive home a blur, his limbs functioning on muscle memory alone, Joel stumbled through the front door of his home with just enough energy to great Emily and Sarah.

“Joel!” Emily exclaimed, jumping from her spot on the couch to pull him into a tight hug. She adored him from the first second you introduced them, finding the man dreamy in that way that was a perfect match for you. It tore her apart to see him falling to pieces over your current condition. “JB commanded that I send you right to bed. Give Sarah a kiss then git goin’.”

Too drained to be disgruntled about being given orders in his own house, he swept Sarah up with tired limbs, ever mindful of her cast. “Hey baby girl. I love you. Have you been good for Miss Emily?”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m always good. Is she any better?” Sarah asked in her sweet, young voice that pulled taut at his heartstrings.

“Not yet,” Joel choked on the words, unable to fight the tears stinging the back of his eyes at his daughter’s worried face. He set her down on the couch before trudging up the stairs. Aching to climb into bed – as empty and cold as it would be without you – but he jumped into the shower first to wash the past few days away.

If only it was that easy.

Joel collapsed on the unmade bed, barely managing to throw a pair of sleep pants on after the quick shower. He was dead asleep seconds after his head hit the pillow.

An hour later, he pried his eyes open, clutching to the warm body clinging to him. For a brief moment, his mind thought it just another normal morning waking up to you at his side. Reality crashed down on him, hard, before he even had the chance to enjoy the thought. Sarah’s frame clung to him like a spider monkey in her sleep. She must have joined him for a nap at some point and was still out cold.

Her steady breathing lulled him back to sleep for another couple hours until Emily woke him with a shout. Joel bolted upright at the echo of his name, heart thumbing in his chest as he jostled Sarah in the process.

“Joel!” Emily called again as she reached the top of the stairs and peeked into his bedroom. “She’s awake!”

Mind still fighting through the fog to wake up, he stared at your best friend with owlish eyes.

“JB just called. She’s awake! You gotta get back to the hospital!” Emily stepped fully into the room, tossing a pair of jeans and a tee shirt at him to get him moving.

“Dad!” Sarah’s uninjured hand nudging him into action as she exclaimed. “Can I come with you?”

Finally, Joel’s mind kicked into gear. You were awake. He had to see you, but first, he needed to get dressed. “Not yet, baby girl. Lemme see how she’s doing and maybe you can see her tomorrow. We don’t want to overwhelm her, okay?”

Flopping back onto the mattress with a pout, Sarah muttered, “Okay,” as Joel eased out of bed with a groan.

It started with muscle twitches. Fingers flexing. A small grimace creasing your battered face. The process to consciousness was a daunting one that ended with fighting against the intubation tube. Even once a nurse came in and removed the tube, you still fought to come fully back to yourself.

“Dad?” Throat dry and raw, you could do little more than croak despite the rising panic. Your eyes darted around the room in confusion, landing first on your dad before taking in the plain white walls and clinical equipment. You were in the hospital, that much was obvious, but you couldn’t recall why. A thick fog wove through your mind, leaving you trying to make sense of anything, everything.

“Hey Spud. Sleeping beauty finally awakens,” your dad teased, his voice gentle but, even with a foggy brain, you picked up on the worried undertone.

“What happened?” It hurt to talk but you needed to know.

“You don’t remember? Of course you don’t, you got a pretty good knock to the head,” he muttered half to himself before tenderly taking your hand between both of his. “You and Sarah were hit by a drunk driver. Does that ring a bell?”

Like a light bulb coming on, things came back to you, brightening the dark corners of your memory. The ride home from school, going to get ice cream, the sudden and unexpected impact as you proceeded through a green light, the car rolling once, twice, then… nothing. With the memory came your brain’s recognition of pain and your body’s aches made themselves well known.

Everything hurt.

Seriously, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, to lie still. It hurt to just fucking exist.

“Oh my God, Sarah? Is she okay? Where is she? Where is Joel?” You glanced around the room as if waiting for them jump out from behind something, the panic returning as you gulped for air.

“Calm down, honey. The little nugget is okay. She’s home, Emily’s watching over her now. Joel’s on his way back. I’ll let him tell you how she is, but just know that she’s fine.” JB spoke in short, clipped sentences, not wanting to overwhelm you further, one grizzled hand stroking your hair back like he did when you were sick as a kid.

You tried to sit up but abandoned that idea the moment the room spun, the throbbing pain too much. Fuck, your face hurt like hell.

“Don’t do that, Spud. While Sarah might be okay, you were seriously injured. I’ll let the doctor explain when he comes in, but you shouldn’t try moving or anything just yet. You’re pretty banged up,” he explained softly.

You met your dad’s eyes, and you could see at once the toll your condition took on him. You had so many questions, but you couldn’t process them quite yet. The pair of you sat quietly for a little while until the doctor joined you, explaining the laundry list of injuries you sustained. No wonder everything hurt. They gave you more medicine for the pain now that you regained consciousness – you couldn’t believe you were out for so long – and things started to make more sense in your brain.

You’d be stuck in the hospital for a few more days before the doctor would even think about discharging you. As much as hospitals sucked, you knew it best you stay put when you couldn’t even sit up with collapsing back in pain.

Joel burst into the room shortly after the doctor left. Sipping at a cup of water your dad held for you, you nearly choked at the sight of him. You’d never seen him look so disheveled, so run down, his normal scruff grown out into a near full beard after a week of not shaving, eyes bloodshot and sunken, curls a messy, wild halo around his head.

“Oh darlin’,” Joel said as you attempted to smile at him. The bandages covering portions of your face and the swelling from the repaired break in your nose made it hard, but your eyes sparkled with happiness at the sight of him.

“Hi Joel,” you croaked in return.

He practically launched himself at your side, knocking JB out of the way so he could sit bedside. Hands hovering, afraid to touch, tears glistened in his eyes. “I was so fuckin’ scared. Thought I was gonna lose you.”

Tears sprung to your own dry eyes as the fingers of your uninjured hand tangled with his. The mere tickle of tears in your nose was damn near excruciating. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

Startled, Joel’s dark chocolate eyes searched your face, completely baffled. “Darlin’, what? What in the world are you sorry for? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

You blubbered as Joel and your dad stared at you bewildered. “I almost got Sarah killed!”

Joel cracked a smile then, the first one in nearly a week, before leaning forward to place a tender kiss upon your chapped lips. “The hell you did. You didn’t do anything but take care of her. None of this was your fault, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t shake the guilt though, not even days later when the doctor discharged you. Sweet, little Sarah waited for you with a bright smile and a mylar ballon that read Welcome Home as Joel and JB helped you into the house. The sight of the purple cast on her right wrist wiped the smile from your face. How could Joel not see that this was all your fault?

You could hardly hug the girl as guilt overwhelmed you.

Emily and Tommy stood behind Sarah as you wobbled through the front door, smiles not hiding the winces at the healing trauma on your face. Emily could tell at once that you were on the verge of breaking down, unable to take your eyes from the healing contusions on Sarah’s adorable face or the cast on her wrist.

Stepping forward, Emily pulled you into a hug, ever mindful of your healing ribs and incisions. “It’s so good to see you awake and in one piece!” she whispered in your ear. “None of this was your fault, you know that right?”

She knew you too well. You choked on a sob, burying your head in her shoulder for several minutes until you had your emotions back under control.

“Do you wanna sign my cast? Daddy got special markers for it! I wouldn’t let anyone else sign it before you came home.” Sarah held a silver Sharpie up for you, flashing those puppy dog eyes at you. Unable to deny her, you took the marker with a trembling hand and drew a heart on the topside of the cast, your name scrawled sloppily beneath it.

Delighted, Sarah handed Joel the marker next and, with a quick glance at you, printed his name above the heart you drew, adding Sarah’s next to yours so that it now read Joel hearts you & Sarah. The tears returned when both Sarah and Joel gazed at you with unabashed affection.

Perhaps they really did not blame you for the accident, for Sarah’s broken wrist, for all that you put them through in the past week and a half. You weren’t sure if you deserved their love, but you basked in it, allowing it to wash over you and heal your soul.

Six weeks of convalescing at home under the tender care of Joel and Sarah, and you finally felt like yourself again, emotionally, and physically. It took a while, but Joel managed to convince you to set free the irrational guilt you felt over the accident, aided by the news that the drunk driver pleaded guilty.

Wanting to celebrate your recovery and the removal of your and Sarah’s casts, Joel planned a small gathering for July 4th. Just the Millers, JB, Emily and her husband, and Maria – the attorney Tommy fell head over heels for last year finally gave into his advances and they were happily living together now. She was a gem and fell right in with the group, giving as good as she got.

“Darlin’, just put that down, I’ll get it,” Joel insisted as you pulled a plate full of raw steaks from the fridge.

“Joel, I’m not a delicate little flower who will break under the weight of a few steaks,” you teased lovingly. Placing the plate on the counter, you turned to Joel and slipped your arms around his neck. Fingers threading through his curls, you pulled his head down, pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”

Joel’s large hands slid down your back, grabbing your ass as the kiss intensified. “Mmmm, I love you, darlin’,” his deep voice rumbled against your mouth. A knock sounded on the front door as he placed another kiss on your lips. “Now, let me take care of this while you welcome our guests.”

Before long, everyone gathered in the backyard. Your dad, Joel, and Emily’s husband Ed stood around the grill while Joel cooked the steaks and Sarah showed off her swimming skills to Maria and Tommy. You and Emily sat on the patio with glasses of sangria just watching everyone you love.

“I know I’ve said it a million times already but thank you again for being there for them after the accident,” you said as you watched Joel manning the grill with confidence. “I know it couldn’t have been easy and I just want you to know that I appreciate you.”

“Always, that’s what friends are for.” Emily smiled at you. “You really got somethin’ good here, you know. That man, he was a complete wreck while you were in the hospital. And that little girl, she worships the ground you walk on. Those two would do anything for you and I know you would do anything for them.”

You heard from your dad how hard Joel struggled while you were in the hospital, how he barely slept, refused to leave your side. Emily reiterated it all and you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that you would have done the same if anything happened to him or Sarah.

“I don’t know how I got so lucky,” you said after taking a sip of the fruity red wine concoction. “I can’t imagine my life without them in it.”

“That’s good, really good.” Too busy making googly eyes at Joel, you missed the knowing look Emily shot you.

“She can’t keep her eyes off you, son,” JB teased. “You ready to do the thing?”

“What thing is that?” Ed asked curiously.

“Imma ask her to marry me,” Joel mumbled, already feeling a little nervous. “I got the ring in my pocket, just waiting for the right moment.”

“Good on ya, man!” Ed replied. Turning to JB, he added, “I take it he has your blessing?”

Nodding, JB grinned at his future son-in-law as he replied, “He sure as hell does. I couldn’t have asked for a better man to take care of my little Spud.”

A flush rose along Joel’s neck and moved onto his cheeks at the praise. “Alright, alright. Let’s not talk about it anymore. I don’t wanna risk her overhearing something. I want it to be a surprise.”

The other two men nodded in understanding. “Just one last thing,” Ed said. “You should ask her during the fireworks. I brought my good camera; I’ll make sure to get great shots of it for you and the fireworks will just add to the ambiance.”

The steaks were grilled to perfection, Joel nailing that medium rare sear that you loved, and Maria’s macaroni salad was a hit. Once everyone devoured their food, you jumped into the pool, letting the water ease the lingering ache in your bones while your dad and Emily insisted on helping Joel clean up. Before long, everyone else joined you in floating around to kill time before the town’s fireworks show began. The house was perfectly situated to see them from a distance, so you didn’t have to fight the traffic to find parking in town to see the show.

Drinking in the sight of Joel shirtless, swim trunks sitting low on his hips, you licked your lips hungrily. He dove into the deep end of the pool, swimming underwater until he reached you in the shallow end. Popping up next to you, he slicked his wet curls back from his forehead with a grin. Fuck, he was handsome.

“Hey beautiful,” Joel greeted. “Enjoying yourself?”

Smile so broad your cheeks hurt, you nodded. “Today has been wonderful, thank you, Joel. This was exactly what I needed.”

“I’d do anything for you, darlin’. You know that, right?” he implored, pulling you close so that you could wrap your legs around his waist beneath the water’s surface. “I’ve never been so in love before. You have completely changed my world.”

“I could say the same about you, babe.”

“The fireworks are gonna start soon. Watch to watch them from the patio?”

“Sure,” you replied. So caught up in Joel, you didn’t notice everyone watching you both with broad smiles as the two of you climbed out of the pool.

Settling into one of the cushioned outdoor chairs, the soft glow of the string lights from that special date all those months ago glistening on your damp skin. Joel moved his chair closer and sat, holding his right hand out for yours, he grinned when you twined your fingers with his.

Suddenly, Tommy appeared in front of you both, carrying a fresh glass of sangria for you and an ice-cold beer for Joel. “Here you both go.”

“Thanks Tommy,” you said gratefully.

“You ready?” he asked, his dark eyes glowing warmly in the low lighting.

“For the fireworks?” you replied, slightly confused. “You bet!”

Tommy smiled indulgently, sharing a look with Joel before moving to the poolside to help his girlfriend out of the water.

Glancing around at your friends and family, you found everyone watching the two of you. You had the feeling something was up, that there was something you were missing. Before you could dwell on it, the first bursts of light exploded in the sky, the whistling boom echoing distantly.

Mesmerized by the show, oohing and ahhing with everyone, you didn’t see Joel slip from his seat to kneel next to you. As the finale began, he said your name, drawing your attention away from the sky.

An audible gasp left your lips as he gazed at you, love lighting up his tanned features. Your eyes darted around the yard to find everyone watching you instead of the fireworks, Ed snapping away with that fancy camera of his.

“Joel, what—” you began breathlessly before he cut you off.

“Do you remember that song we danced to, right here in the yard, beneath these very lights?” His smooth voice gave no hints of the nervous energy flowing beneath his skin.

You nodded, recalling the memory fondly. “That was a beautiful night.”

“It was, and I hope to have many more just like it with you.” Still kneeling, he reached his left hand into his pocket and your breath hitched. Your heart nearly dropped when you merely pulled his phone out, tapping at the screen until music began to play in the background.

Taking your hands in his, Joel began to sing along, his deep voice the perfect contrast to the artist’s.

“On the day that I met you,

The world had just spit me out.

On my way to the bottom

Sure I’d never be found.

Then you saw me for me

Made me believe in myself.

On the day that I met

It all turned around.”

Tears stung the back of your eyes, but for the first time in weeks, they were tears of happiness, not pain or guilt. You clutched at Joel as he went to pull his right hand free, and he chuckled.

“I fall more in love with you every single day. I don’t know how I ever got to be this lucky, to find someone like you, who fits so perfectly, so seamlessly into mine and Sarah’s lives.”

You finally loosened your grip so he could pull his right hand free, digging into the zippered pocket as you swiped at the tears coursing down your face.

“You are the woman of my dreams, the one I was sure didn’t exist until I met you. If I promise to fall for you over and over again, will you promise to be my wife, to be Sarah’s mom, to love us from now until forever?”

Gazing into his dark, gorgeous eyes, misty with tears of his own, you nodded. “Yes, yes. A million times, yes, Joel. I’d love to be your wife and Sarah’s mom.”

You were sobbing as he beamed, slipping a beautiful, understated princess cut diamond ring on your finger. It fit perfectly and your heart swelled, the love in you threatening to spill over, to burst straight from your chest. “Joel, it’s so beautiful!”

Joel stood, pulling you with him until your feet left the ground and he spun you in a circle once, twice, before setting you down on solid ground. You lurched forward, sealing your love, your promise with a heated kiss.

As if they hadn’t all witnessed every second of what just happened, Joel looked over at everyone and declared, “She said yes!”

The small group of your favorite people made a racket with their whoops and whistles, JB shouting above the rest, “About fuckin’ time, son!”

Unable to contain herself for another second – she had been incredibly patient, after all, letting her dad do the asking instead of her – Sarah burst from Tommy’s grasp, launching herself at you. Joel helped you sweep her up for a tight hug.

“It’s official now, right?” Sarah questioned, nearly vibrating with excitement. “You’re gonna be my mom now. I finally get to have a mom and not just any mom, but you. The best one I could have asked for.”

Just when you thought the tears ebbed away, the waterworks started once again. “Oh, my sweet, perfect girl. I promise to try my best to be worthy of such an honor. I couldn’t have asked for a better girl to go on this adventure with.”

“This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever witnessed,” Emily said, her voice catching as tears ran down her cheeks as well.

“Agreed,” Maria chimed in with a sniffle and Tommy pulled her close with a dumb grin spreading across his face. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he thought about how he’d propose when the time came.

You and Joel couldn’t keep your hands off each other once Sarah went to bed and everyone left. Your need for each other was too mighty to fight, not that either of you wanted too anyway. He treated you like glass the past six weeks, afraid to hurt you, to aggravate your injuries. You understood, but that didn’t stop the desire, the need for him and it frustrated you that he would not give in. Now that you were mostly healed, you wanted him to make love to you like he used to.

Readying yourselves for bed, you climbed onto the mattress, straddling Joel’s hips where he laid back against the pillows. Half hard already at the mere sight of you naked before him, he grasped your hips to grind your core down on him.

“I need you, my love. I need to feel you inside me. It’s been too long,” your voice a breathy whine against his mouth, your lips touching but not yet kissing. “Let me ride you.”

“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel gasped as you shifted against his now fully hardened cock. “Take what you want, sweetheart.” He watched with lust blown eyes as you slid his sleep pants down his hips, and he kicked them off to lay in a pile at the bottom of the bed.

So wet and needy, you didn’t even need foreplay. Sealing your mouth to his, you swallowed his groan as you slid down on his cock. Pausing for a moment once he was balls deep inside you, fingers threaded through his luscious curls, you sighed in contentment.

“I feel so fucking full, Joel,” you moaned, finally starting to move. “I’ve missed this so much.”

Joel gazed at you, completely enraptured and unable to speak. The words stuck in his throat, he just watched you move on him, his hips shifting upwards to meet your movements. It felt so good he knew he wouldn’t last long, shifting his hand between you to pluck at your clit as you rode him.

“Come for me, darlin’. I need to feel you come apart around me,” the words burst from deep in his chest, dripping with need as he got closer to the edge. Thumb moving frantically against your clit in that way that drove you crazy, he made you come apart within minutes.

“Fuck, Joel!” you gasped, burying your face in his shoulder, biting down on the flesh to stifle your moans. Waves of pleasure washed over you so strong you couldn’t move your hips anymore. Joel took over, thrusting up into you, drawing out your orgasm as your walls fluttered around him.

You sunk your teeth further into the meat of his trapezius, the shock of pain like a bolt of lightning straight to his cock. His movements grew sloppy as his balls tightened and he came with a guttural growl, sucking at your neck as rope after rope of cum splashed inside you.

Breathless and satiated, you stayed in place, allowing the aftershocks to roll through you both. You brought your hands up to cup his face, the patchy scruff of his beard tickling your palms. The diamond ring on your left hand sparkled in the dim lighting and you grinned down at Joel, so full of love.

He pulled you down to lay with him, his softening cock slipped out of you in the process, and you both ignored the mess as you cuddled together.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” You felt the words rumble from deep in his chest as he spoke them, pulling you impossibly closer until your sweaty skin melded to his. “I fuckin’ love you, darlin.”

Smiling sleepily, you murmured your love for him, your excitement over being engaged, the beauty of the ring he chose for you, until you fell asleep mid-sentence.

Your dreams were no match for the life you and Joel were creating together.

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx

@pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr

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[rogue-durin-16]

SUNGLASSES AND LIPSTICK STAINS (part III/III)

Summary: after having his heart torn in half at Tina's party, Steve finds comfort in the most unexpected person. Who would have guessed he would develop such a strong connection with someone he's barely spoken to?

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Genre: mostly fluff (hurt/comfort)

Tags:

Sunglasses And Lipstick Stains: @shycupcakealissa @dessmxsworld @liberhoe @damon-loves-pie @littleagxs

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, mild violence

A/N: long awaited and, after deleting tons of angst, finally here. This is not a chapter, this is a bunch of chaotic scenes under a trench coat pretending to be a chapter. Bear with me and enjoy <3

Part I

Part II

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

An unknown ruckus that did nothing for my throbbing head had woken me up, yet I was not expecting to stumble into whatever was going on at the Henderson's.

Most of the kids ran around attempting to tidy up their sleeping place, although Jonathan was clearly doing the actual job. Mike yelled through the phone, presumably at his mother, periodically being shushed by Hopper, whose back faced the group of middle schoolers and the tired junior ushering them.

That was probably the oddest part of the scene, because Hopper seemed to be confiding information to Y/n from across the kitchen counter —the overwhelming kind, given how she massaged her temples with closed eyelids.

"—And back to the police station." He finished explaining, tapping his palm on the marble surface before turning around. "Good, he's awake. Hopper pushed himself off the kitchen counter and wiggled his car keys at me. "You got five minutes. Grab your things."

"Where are we-" Hopper was out of the house before I could finish the sentence. "what's going on?" I flinched at the loudness of the kids as I made my way to the kitchen.

"I asked him to take you to the hospital." Y/n intervened. She had straightened up as soon as Hopper noticed I was out of bed, and was now handing me a glass of water along with Tylenol. "how's the head?"

I chose to ignore her question and formulated one of my own instead. "What d'you mean 'to the hospital'? You patched me up."

"I did but— bye guys!" She waved at both Byers and the four kids trailing after him. "You need an actual doctor to check it out."

"Y/n, I can't— you don't understand—"

"Chief told me everything." The girl took a step closer and maneuvered my chin ever so carefully to check my broken nose. "Or at least everything I could beat out of him."

I breathed out a surprised chuckle. "You're something else."

"I'll take that as a compliment." She countered with a small tired smile. Now that I had a moment to study her upclose, I wondered if she had slept at all that night. "we gotta go." She whispered.

"You too?"

"It's Monday, Steve." Monday. Jesus, I completely forgot about school. A groan escaped my lungs while the girl jogged to her bedroom. "I'll tell Ms. O'Donnell you're sick!" She shouted while I finally chugged the Tylenol. "C'mon." Y/n was back in a flash. She tossed me my jacket and motioned at the already open front door for me to walk over.

A furrow formed between my brows when, instead of joining me, Y/n rummaged through the cushions. "What are you doing?"

"Jonathan brought... Ah! This." The girl skipped to her home's entrance, bag dangling on her shoulder by a strap, and handed me my sunglasses. "You'll need them."

Sweet. I would have never thought I'd use that word to describe Y/n Henderson, but to be fair, I'd never thought she would look at me so tenderly.

The next thing I knew, I was planting a kiss on her temple, her hand secured in mine. It had come as such a natural occurence that I hadn't given it a second thought.

There was a pink tinge on her cheeks when I pulled away. "What's that for?"

"For taking care of me." It was an excuse. Something about the way she tilted her head to the side told me she knew that.

November 9, 1984

READER'S P. O. V.

"What happened to you, Stevie boy?!"

The obnoxious voice could be easily identified way before he made an appearance. Most people walking from class to class on my locker's corridor did. That's why Tommy Hagan was able to strut freely through the racket of students at Steve's tail, whose head hung low.

"Did you fall face first?" His taunts grew louder the closer they were to my locker. "From king to punching bag!"

"Piss off, Tommy. I'm not in the mood." Now that was barely audible. In fact, I wouldn't have caught it if it wasn't because Steve was walking right by my back when he spoke.

"Aw, he's not in the mood." Hagan mocked him.

During the previous weekdays, I had found myself growing closer to the former King of Hawkins High, now reduced to an exhausted teen walking the halls alone. One would say I even turned somewhat protective of him; that's why I didn't think through my actions until Tommy was on the floor, his palms catching him just in time to avoid a broken nose.

It took Billy and Carol a hot minute to process that I, who now faced them instead of the row of lockers, was the reason why the remaining member of their trifecta had tripped mid sentence.

There was a brief halt in everyone's motions. The shock in the sudden silence among us shifted to anticipation as soon as Tommy himself caught on what had happened, "Did you just fucking trip me?"

"Nope," I popped the 'p', feigned cluelessness dripping from my tongue and making Tommy's blood boil. "I think you just fell face first, Hagan."

It took all my willpower not to flinch when Hagan's freckled face was shoved to mine close enough for our noses to touch.

"The fuck did you just say?"

I barely registered a yelled, warning 'Hey!' from somewhere on my left flank that sounded like Steve.

However, it was —to my surprise— Billy Hargrove's hand the one immediately enclosed around Tommy's bicep, yanking him back with an iron grip.

"She's not worth it." There was a tinge of fear in his uncanny irises, flooded with both hatred and frustration when he gave me an up-and-down that felt closer to a spit. "C'mon."

It took them making a left at the end of the hall for me to release the strained breath I didn't know I was holding.

My irises locked with Steve's warm ones as soon as I turned my head to the left. The boy stood at a safe distance, balancing his weight from one leg to another with hesitance.

He opened his mouth, yet words either got caught up in his throat or dissolved into nothingness. His eyes darted behind him for a second, and soon returned back to me with intent.

I watched the boy's moves with a frown as he spun and slowly took the few steps separating him from the bathroom.

One last tentative glance from the door was all I needed to follow his lead, mindful of the eyes around us that luckily had already returned to their respective business.

"Harrington?" My pitch was careful, since I was unsure of whether or not we were all by ourselves.

"Here." Was the only response I obtained —it reverberated from afar in the seemingly empty bathroom.

My boots clicked on the tiles as I dove further into the fluorescent lit room. I clutched my books against my chest in anticipation when I caught a glimpse of Steve's figure in the sinks's mirrors at the very far end of the restroom.

My steps stopped right at the corner and knocked on the last stall's poorly hinged door before resting my shoulder against it.

"Hey." He whispered, hands shoved in his pockets as he leaned back on the wall in front of me.

"Hey." I echoed with a tight-lipped smile. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I just—" His visage was quickly casted down to avoid eye contact, making his hair bob as he looked for the right words. "Thanks. Don't do that again though, 'cause if you think Tommy won't hit a girl—"

"I'm very aware of what was about to happen." I cut him off, re-accommodating my books to rest on my hip so I could gesture at the bathroom's entrance with my thumb. "It'd trip Hagan anyday."

"Why?"

"He's an asshole."

"And I'm not?"

"You want me to trip you too?"

There was a moment of silence in which a spark of mischief crossed Steve's eyes. It was swiftly followed by a snort he could barely hold back.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," his fingers carded the few rogue strands falling on his eyes, an amused smile lingering on his gaze. "I just thought of the corniest pick-up line."

"Oh God."

"Now I really need to say it."

"No, you don't."

"If you were to trip me, I could say I..." Steve intently wiggled his brows at me. "fell for you."

I stared blankly at him for an instant, trying not to laugh and accidentally spur him on. "That's just tragic." I feigned a disappointed sigh. "Just when I thought I liked you."

Silence. Ominous silence that carried the blood to my cheeks when I realized what I had just said.

It's okay, I told myself after briefly meeting Steve's mildly widened eyes, it doesn't have to mean I like like him.

"Y/n?"

"Hmm?"

"This is..." The senior pushed himself off the tiled wall, one of his hands finding comfort in his hair once again. I would have never pinned Steve Harrington as a fidgety guy, but he was full of surprises. "Do you wanna come over after school?"

"...What?"

"We could watch a movie." He explained further, blatantly ignoring the shock tensing every muscle of my body.

"I... like- like a uhh" I shifted on the spot, tightening the grip on my books in a vain attempt to ground myself when Steve walked closer. "like a hangout? or like-?"

"I'm asking you out, Y/n." Steve seemed to ponder his thoughts for a second before plainly saying, "I like you."

My whole body refused to respond, and I was frozen in place, left to see Steve's confidence slowly crumble.

"Am I— did I read this wrong?"

The bell ringing was a life saver. I for one did not hesitate to jolt straight to the door with an apologetic smile that was closer to a grimace.

I couldn't get far before five slender digits were gently wrapped around my wrist. "If I did, can we ignore that last thing I said? Honestly, I could use a friend right now and you're—"

"You didn't... read it wrong." My quiet words, strained with pride, eased the situation instantly. "At your place at 7?"

"Yeah, that's good." He exhaled, thumb rubbing a couple of reassuring circles on the back of my hand before dropping to his side. "I'll see you later then?"

"M-hm." I gave him a quick nod and, after debating on whether or not I should do something stupid, I leaped forward and planted a kiss on his cheekbone.

I had no way of knowing he would trap my lips with his the moment they lifted from his skin. I didn't oppose either.

For the next weeks, that was it for us. We unraveled ourselves in lazy make out sessions, secret bathroom talks, and indoors dates.

It was easier like that, when it was just us who knew —even if it meant sneaking kisses when he dropped Dustin home and pretending not to know to each other while we were in class.

Yeah, it was easier to pretend to be a couple when no one else had to know about it, but December came and we weren't pretending anymore.

December 15, 1984

STEVE'S P. O. V.

"Now you're gonna go in there,"

"Yeah,"

"Look like a million bucks!"

"Yeah!"

"And you’re gonna slay ‘em dead."

"Like a lion." I had to fight the urge to cringe at Dustin's purr.

"Don't do that, okay?" I begged instead, earning a tiny, chastised 'okay' from the kid.

An encouraging nod and a handclasp later, the boy was climbing out of the car with his chest puffed and his chin high.

Turns out middle schoolers weren't the headache Nancy made it out to be. It was actually quite a refreshing change to have them around. Throughout both November and December, I had grown to know how nice it would have been to have a younger sibling around.

Maybe I would have felt less alone all the time.

The amused smile that had twisted up the corner of my lips at the sight of Dustin proudly adjusted his blazer whilst talking to a teacher gradually faded away at the depressing thoughts which began to cloud my mind.

My shoulders slumped slightly at that dark feeling that had been looming over me more often than not during the year; that terrifying loneliness I rarely seemed to get rid of.

The school's ajar door being pushed open not only pulled me out of my own head, but also slowly returned the grin to my face.

It was Y/n the one exiting the building. Her joyful laugh echoed in the nearly empty parking lot, just temporarily filled by passing cars dropping the kids off at the Snow Ball.

Her confident stroll slowed down at the sight of my car, but her face's brightness didn't falter.

"Harrington."

Her tone was of surprise as she resumed her walk, even though I was positive Dustin had mentioned I would be driving him to the ball.

"Henderson." I reciprocated the greeting, trying not to seem too eager to be near her when I ripped more than unplucked the key from the ignition and stepped out of the vehicle.

It had become exponentially more complicated— to be distant, to try and make it look like we were mere acquaintances. In all honesty, I didn't even know why we kept the lie up anymore.

"I see my brother took your awful hair advice." She teased with a coy grin, her forearms resting atop the roof of my car. She searched and found a faux vexed reaction from me.

"Uhm, excuse me." I huffed, circling the obstacle between us at a watchful slow pace. "'Awful hair advice'? I think you mean awesome." My heart skipped a beat when the girl gnawed her lower lip to bite back a laugh —a mindless habit of hers that never failed to suck the air out of my lungs. "Have you seen this?" I questioned, motioning at my hair.

"Yeah I've seen the bird nest." She taunted me, turning to face me when I reached her side.

"You're really fucking mean."

"Hmm... I thought I was the sweetest person you'd met?" She jokingly inquired, rocking forward on her tippy toes. "Your words, not mine."

A single breathy laugh left my lungs, chin falling so I could stare at my shoes, which had turned to be an engrossing sight every time Y/n did that.

"I didn't know you were chaperoning." I chose to comment once I had collected myself enough to meet her gaze.

"I'm not." She corrected, bracing herself when a particularly cold beat of wind hit us. "The teachers needed a hand with the decorations. You think I'd come to a Ball dressed like this?"

"I think you could wear Mrs. Click's clothes and still knock the air out of any guy's lungs."

Whatever Y/n was going to respond died in the back of her throat. I was about to audibly take pride on leaving her speechless when her fist playfully knocked my arm.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"Stop teaching my brother dumb pick-up lines!" Her index finger pointed accusative at my form.

"He uses them?"

"UHHH YEAH." Y/n giggled to herself, spinning to rest her back against my BMW's side. "He sounds so fucking ridiculous, practicing them in the mirror and shit."

"Hey, don't laugh at him!" I barely had enough restraint to not snicker at the anecdote while I moved to stand in front of the girl. "You're such a bad sister."

"And you're such a bad influence!" She countered, letting her melodic laugh gradually die down, leaving no trace but a beautiful beam gracing her gaze, slightly pinked by December's low temperatures. "What are you doing to my brother, Harrington?"

"I'm just helping him be cool, y'know?" I shrugged, trying to seem as suave as I could about being inches away from Y/n's body. "Giving him a pinch of King Steve's advice."

"I'll shove King Steve's advice up your ass."

"You're just jealous."

"Maybe I am a little jealous." She gave me a nonchalant shrug.

"Wait, really?"

"You can't blame me." Her digits tugged on her sleeves, probably to preserve the little warmth left in her palms. "It's always 'Steve this', 'Steve that'..." She swinged her head from one side to another, empathizing her words and simultaneously making it all more hilarious. "One day you're a jerk and the next you're this awesome dude he adores."

"Some things run in the family, don't they?" I teased, taking her cold hands in mine to bring them up and blow hot air in them.

"I never said you were awesome." Her voice turned into a whisper, y/e/c eyes searching for my thoughts in mines.

"I know you think I'm awesome." Y/n scoffed at my cocky quip. "And I know you secretly adore me."

"Ha."

"Ha." I mocked her, bringing her palms to rest on my chest so I could slide mines down to her waist. "You're not denying it."

"You're annoying." It was more an exhale than a sentence. "So annoying. You have no idea."

"Then you adore annoying."

I felt a chill running down my spine when her icy fingertips creeped all the way up to my nape hair to toy with it.

"I think I'm gonna kiss you." I muttered, bumping my nose with hers.

Y/n pulled away ever so slightly, yet enough to make me chase her frame, even with her hands still around me. "Here?"

"Yeah." I tried to act nonchalant for both of our sakes. It would have never occurred to me that I would be anxious about getting caught kissing a girl. "That okay?"

After a second of hesitation and a short lived nod, a beam lit up Y/n's gaze as she brought me into an innocent kiss that soon deepened.

There was something intoxicating about her, something that stuck with me back in October at Tina's Party and had yet to let me go.

Maybe it wasn't something about her, maybe it was her —the way she carried herself, the cleverness in her words and how her hands held me. It was definitely her, and I couldn't get enough.

That's why when Y/n, whose senses were sharper, abruptly pulled away with a gasp, my immediate reaction was to whine.

And then I heard that little shit's voice.

"Y/n?" The wide-eyed girl pushed me aside to make direct eye contact with Mike. "Oh my God."

"Mike." one of my hands remained on Y/n's waist while she raised her menacing index finger at the younger Wheeler. "Don't you dare."

The kid stared at Y/n, then stared at me, and then ran back inside. A faint 'Dustin' made it out of the building before the door got shut.

Soon enough, Y/n was attempting to chase Mike, although I was quick enough to bring her back to our previous spot before she could cross the entrance.

"That little bitch is gonna tell everyone!" She complained, trying and failing to walk past me.

"Then let him, who cares?"

"Uhhh you?"

"Says who?"

Her mind seemed to malfunction for a second, not quite processing my words. "What do you mean?"

"why would I mind people knowing we're dating?"

"THERE'S A MILLION REASONS!"

"Name three." I requested, raising three fingers between us.

"Okay— Nancy."

"I have my life and she has hers." I countered. "Plus, I didn't see her holding back with Jonathan right after we broke up."

"Status."

"Dustin said I gotta grow out of that bullshit and he's right."

"I—" a judging frown twisted her expression. "are you taking advice from a middle schooler?"

"he's pretty smart." I defended myself, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Third?"

"I don't know."

"You said there was a million reasons."

"Shut up." She leaned back against the car with a scowl substituting what had been a joyful smile just a couple of minutes ago.

"Are you embarrassed?" I questioned, tugging on the hem of her jumper.

"Steve, we went through this a million times." She sighed, catching my fingers with hers. "I'm not, I just don't wanna—"

"Undermine my reputation blah blah blah. Fuck that." I pecked the tip of her nose, unleashing a new wave of amusement trying to fight its way through the stress. "Let's go out."

"We go out every Friday."

"No, like, out out? To the movies or something." I couldn't tell if the pink on her cheeks was due to the biting cold or my proposal. "That dipshit's gonna spread the word like wildfire anyway."

She considered for an instant, but we both knew which answer she wanted to give me.

"You sure?" She said instead, making me push out a lighthearted scoff.

"Do I look unsure to you?" Before she could speak, I stole a quick, tender kiss from her. "Next Friday. I'll pick you up at 7."

"Jeez I didn't even say yes."

"Oh were you gonna reject me?" I teased with raised brows.

"Fuck you, Harrington." She spat without an ounce of malice in her tone, trapping her lower lip between her teeth. God, I was a goner.

"I'll hold you to that." She huffed at my wink and my smug smile, and I knew she was as much of a goner as myself. "C'mon," I stepped aside to open the passenger door. "Let's get you home before any of those little shits decide to believe Wheeler." Just when I thought Y/n would, for the first time, not complain about me driving her anywhere, she stopped between me and the now accessible passenger's seat. "Jesus, don't start—"

"Did you have dinner yet?"

Well, that was not what I was expecting. "...No?"

"Wanna go to that new diner downtown?" Blink. Another blink. Was she asking me out? "It's on me."

"I... Okay. Yeah! Yeah, cool."

"Cool." She echoed, the corner of her lips twitching up with amusement. "C'mon then."

"Shit, yeah." I left her side to circle the BMW and, when I climbed in, I found her already belted and ready.

"It's a date, by the way." She clarified, tugging on the sleeves of her jacket once more.

"Yeah I got that, dumbass." I whispered back whilst starting the car.

I didn't even attempt to hold the genuine grin that only she seemed to be able to pull out of me these days when her fingers found my free hand to tangle with my own.

[missvelvetsstuff]

Low Expectations

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Reader is low on self esteem when she meets Bucky. Can he convince her that she's the one he wants?

Chapter 2

Warnings: swearing, mostly fluff with a little angst

When he hadn't contacted her for 2 days Y/N officially gave up. It was nice for a minute but her experience told her that guys who looked like James didn't have relationships with girls like her. She hadn't seen Terri all weekend so she was spared the questioning but it didn't make her feel any better. After drinking way too much on Sunday afternoon she slept fitfully and showed up at work hungover, never removing her sunglasses until she returned home that night. When Sheila tried to ask about her data, Y/N just shook her head and Sheila let it go.

When she saw Terri, her friend didn't even need to ask, she knew by the look on her face and hugged her.

Y/N pulled away "It's fine, nothing that hasn't happened a hundred times before. I don't really want to talk about it" and poured a glass of wine to take to her room. "I'm really tired. I'm going to take a bath and crash."

Terri nodded, worried about her friend but unsure of how to help without making things worse. Calling Sam to bitch him out about his friend came to mind but it went straight to voicemail.

On Wednesday Bucky finally had a minute to breathe and was in a place where he had a signal so tried to call Y/N but kept getting her voicemail. He texted her, frustrated but figuring she was at work only sent one and tried to relax while he could.

Y/N overslept on Wed and forgot to grab her phone so was antsy all day at work. The office was chaotic because some big executive that was just hired wanted to tour the offices and look for ways to cut costs. That usually meant layoffs so everyone was in a tizzy trying to look perfect.

When she got home her phone was dead since she had forgotten to plug it in so she had to charge it while she made dinner. When she sat down to eat she grabbed her phone to see what she missed. She was shocked to see a bunch of missed calls one voicemail and one text from James. He apologized profusely and at great length, explained he was called away for an emergency and without a signal most of the time. She tried to call him but it wouldn't go through so sent a text and laid down to read while she waited to hear from him again. She fell asleep without hearing from him.

After 2 days of playing phone tag Bucky was relieved when he was finally able to get through to speak with her. He apologized some more, she was skeptical but agreed to give him a second chance with a warning that it would be the last one. They scheduled a date for the coming Tuesday for dinner at the same diner and he promised up and down that he would be there and explain everything.

Y/N got a text from James on Tuesday morning confirming their date and had to talk herself down from getting too excited. As Terri helped her with her make up she warned her "He better not flake again or I'll kick his ass. I don't care who his friends are" which made Y/N laugh.

Her boss was being a tool again, everyone had to document their typical work day and basically prove to the new management that they were worth keeping on and lower management was stressed and stretched thin. She ran late again but was happy to find him waiting for her this time. With flowers in his hand. She felt her stomach flutter.

"James! I'm so sorry I'm late. My supervisor was being a pill all day and wanted to talk to me which made me miss my train. I hope you can forgive me" she fluttered her eyes at him while sporting a cheesy grin.

James laughed softly "I'm pretty sure that bosses being difficult is an acceptable excuse for tardiness in the book of dating rules but don't let it happen again. Besides you look beautiful and I'm not sure I could stay upset with you if I tried."

Y/N noticed his eyes sparkle when he smiled and got lost for a minute when she realized he was trying to get her attention. "Wait, what?"

He couldn't stop smiling "Where did you go?"

She felt her face heat up and hoped he couldn't tell "You have such pretty eyes"  she blurted out before she could stop herself. She covered her mouth, mortified "Sorry, just a little striking. I couldn't see them when we met."

He blushed at the compliment "Thank you but You don't need to apologize for complimenting me, doll. My eyes don't hold a candle to yours. You're even prettier than I remember. Why don't we go inside?"

A waitress approached them, looked Bucky up and down then looked surprised when she saw Y/N was with him "Hey Y/N, who's your handsome friend?"

"Hey Cindy, this is James. James, this is Cindy."

Cindy put on her best flirtatious smile "Hi James"

Bucky smiled and nodded "Cindy, nice to meet you" then turned to Y/N which made Cindy huff out in annoyance.

Once they were seated and looking at the menu Y/N spoke up "So how does a guy named James get Bucky for a nickname? Braces? Bucked off of a horse?"

He laughed softly "My middle name is Buchanan and there were too many James' on my block growing up."

She laughed with him. "I guess it's not too bad, I've heard worse nicknames but I like James better"

Bucky blushed and felt butterflies in his stomach at the way she said James. "When I was a kid only my ma ever called me James but I'll give you a special dispensation" and smiled

Y/N felt her insides turning around and a tingle in her core when he smiled at her. This man is beautiful she thought to herself. And the way his nose crinkled when he laughed! All the more reason to keep her hopes in control. She had a ton of male friends, 'You're such a great girl with the best personality but I just don't see you that way. More like a little sister' Guys act like they're the only ones trapped in the friend zone. No way would someone this sweet and funny and good looking want her.

Once their food had been delivered Y/N noticed that Bucky seemed to tense up "Are you ok, James? Is the burger bad?"

He shook his head "No, the food is great. I'm just a uh a little bit nervous that you'll never want to see me again when I explain why I wasn't there for our date."

"Unless you were with your wife or consulting with Nazis or just playing games with me I can probably find a way to forgive you." She tried to reassure him.

Bucky smiled "I really hope so." He cleared his throat "Do you remember the night we met? Your friend was sitting on my friend Sam's lap? Yeah, he's Sam Wilson, Captain America. I was helping him on a mission overseas that I can't get into details about but Sam can verify it.

I'm James "Bucky" Barnes the Winter Soldier. Well that's what I was called but I didn't have a choice and when I was in Wakanda they nicknamed me the White Wolf which I like a lot better but no one knows who that is I hope you don't hate me and still want to be friends." He rambled out quickly.

Friends, of course she thought but tried not to let her disappointment show, she sighed "I don't hate you. Already knew who you were the night we met. The stuff I read said you were rehabilitated so I didn't really think much about it. I didn't know you were doing avenging with Sam."

"Technically it's not Avengers business but it is with the US government. I don't really care about all that I just want to back my friend up and maybe make up for some of my past." He explained

Y/N looked thoughtful for a minute "I suppose backing up Captain America is a tolerable excuse for missing a date. I might have to assign some penance but once that's completed I'll probably forgive you" she teased

Bucky grinned "As long as this penance involves spending time with you I'm in. I need all the time I can get to bask in your beauty"

Y/N felt her face heat up, the things this man did to her. "You don't have to say stuff like that. It's sweet of you but I know it's not true"

Bucky shook his head "I won't ever lie to you and you absolutely are beautiful. Who made you think otherwise?"

She looked down "You don't want to hear about all of my broken hearts."

"Doll, look at me." He waited until she looked in his eyes "I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to know. I just want to make sure I know who to hurt." He smirked at her.

"My ex and his friends always told me. He said 'you're not pretty. You're not ugly, just plain looking.' I can't remember if that was before or after he told me he wanted to marry me but I needed to lose weight first." She told him sadly

Bucky looked angry "What a complete piece of shit. Sweetheart, you are beautiful just like you are. That guy sounds like an idiot.

Your face and body are breathtaking." His voice dropped "I'm fighting myself to keep from touching and tasting every inch of you."

She felt her heart speed up and moisture pooling in her panties, her throat suddenly too dry to respond.

"Fair warning doll, I have enhanced senses and I can hear your heart racing and can smell. You."

She looked confused "What do you mean smell me?"

Bucky raised his eyebrows and looked towards her lap.

Y/N felt her face heat up, she was beyond flustered "I uh, well uh you and oh I-"

Bucky took one of her hands in his "I'm sorry doll, I didn't mean to embarrass you. Just wanted to be totally honest with you. Besides, you smell delicious."

She shook her head "You're not playing games with me are you? I'm really not up for games. You sounded pretty set on the friends thing so it's kinda confusing."

Bucky kissed her hand "I don't play games doll. My ma raised me better. I don't know how to make you believe that I really like you, way more than friends but I will figure it out."

She offered him a small smile "I look forward to your efforts to woo me. It's been a long time since anyone has tried."

He smiled at her "I've met so many girls like your friend Terri and I'm sure she's a wonderful person but I'd rather have someone a little more real. Someone that sees me and not a soldier or Avenger.

Did you know there are hero groupies that just want to sleep with me because I'm an Avenger even though I'm not one officially, just so they can brag about it. Sam doesn't mind it so much but the whole idea makes me feel kinda gross. Then there are the others who judge me for my past and fear me."

She nodded sadly "I didn't know but it certainly doesn't surprise me.

Is that why you wear gloves? You don't need to around me. In fact I'd love to see your prosthetic. It's very sci fi."

Bucky smiled and she felt her core clenching. If he really was sincere she would have to really work to keep herself from jumping him, so figured it's better to wait and be sure he meant it.

"I'd be happy to show you but maybe somewhere a little more private." He looked at their food to see she was done too. "Are you ready to go? I can give you a ride home if you don't mind motorcycles."

She grinned "If you have a helmet for me I'm down. My ex had a bike so I'm a pro at riding on a bike. Never got very good at driving one."

Bucky let some bills on the table then stood up and offered her his hand. "Maybe if you're nice to me I'll let you practice on my bike."

She took his hand "I'm always nice as long as you deserve it."

"I will try to always deserve your kindness." He told her as he pulled her up, never letting go of her hand.

They walked outside and he gave her his helmet and helped her put it on. "What about you, James? You need a helmet too."

He smirked "Don't worry doll, I'm a fast healer but have ridden long enough to know how to stay out of trouble."

He mounted his bike and she climbed on behind him, putting her arms around his waist.

They took a short ride back to her building. He helped her off the bike and she took the helmet off and returned it to him.

"Thank you for dinner, James. I had a good time."

"Yeah, me too. When can I see you again? Are you busy Friday night?"

Y/N smiled at him. "No, I don't go out much except when Terri convinces me to go to clubs with her."

"I'll call you tomorrow and we can make plans."

He grabbed her hands and pulled her closer for a hug and soft kiss on her cheek. He just stared at her for a minute before pulling away.

"G'nite doll"

"Nite James."

Y/N ran up to her room and fell on the bed half ecstatic that he wanted to see her again but half disappointed that he only gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek. She couldn't figure out what he wanted from her but decided to stay positive about the whole thing while trying not to get her hopes up. That anxious thrill you get when you first start getting to know someone was a blessing and a curse. Excited and scared, in equal measure, of what comes next.

Bucky rode home feeling the same kind of emotions and hoping he didn't end up disappointed.

Chapter 3

[lunar-writes]

AkiRohan Incorrect Quotes

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Rohan, scrolling through Twitter: Koichi, what the fuck is 'AkiRohan'?

Koichi, who accidentally started the tag:

-

Josuke: Are you two dating?

Rohan, holding Akira's hand: No why would you think that

-

Rohan: *making fun of Josuke & Okuyasu* That's gay

Akira, holding him in his lap: Really-

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Akira: Why the fuck are you drinking Monster at 3 in the morning?

Rohan, sleep deprived and physically shaking: Pain is temporary but greatness is eternal

Akira: go to bed

-

Akira: Damn, my fingers hurt from playing all day

Rohan: I can rub some cream on them for you

Akira: Is this just an excuse to hold my hand?

Rohan:

Akira: Answer me Rohan

-

*Arriving at a hotel together*

Akira: Oh there's only one bed

Rohan, laying on the bed seductively: How unfortunate

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Rohan: Should we start dating?

Akira: Were we not already?

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Rohan: I fucking hate EVERYONE

Akira: Everyone?

Rohan:

Rohan: ....alright fiNE-

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Akira: I want to give you a pet name

Rohan: Like what?

Akira: Sweetie, darling, dearest, dearly beloved, my love—

Rohan: *blushing intensely* PLEASE stop

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Rohan, holding out a card: Happy Anniversary, I guess

Akira: Thank you....?

Akira: *reads the card* ....

Akira: "I don't hate you"?

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Rohan: I have done nothing wrong, ever

Akira: I know that's bullshit but I love you anyways

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Akira: I have an idea

Rohan: No murder

Akira: I no longer have an idea

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Akira: You're violent

Rohan: Who's the murderer here???

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Akira: Tell me something good before I commit another murder

Rohan: No music in prison

Akira: This is why I love you

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Koichi: Rohan-sensei, why are you ignoring Otoishi-san?

Rohan: I'm playing hard to get

Josuke: Why? You're already hard to want

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Akira: I'm going to play all of Metallica at max volume and no one is going to stop me

Rohan: Akira

Akira: One person is going to stop me

-

Okuyasu: You deserve an award for putting up with me

Josuke: Oku, you are my reward ♡

Akira: You deserve an award for putting up with me-

Rohan: Damn fucking straight I do

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Rohan: The stars are bright tonight, aren't they?

Akira, mumbling: You're the brightest star

Rohan: What was that?

Akira: I said I want to hit you with a jar-

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Rohan: Color me surprised

Akira: You're literally white as a ghost

Rohan: As if you're any better

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Akira: Truth or Dare?

Rohan: Truth

Akira: How many hours have you slept this week?

Rohan: Dare

Akira: Go to sleep

Rohan: I don't like this game

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Rohan: I know you think my judgement is clouded because I like Otoishi a little

Koichi: You drew your wedding invitation

Rohan: That's our joint tombstone

Koichi: My mistake

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Rohan, seeing Josuke getting blasted into the nearest wall by Akira: Was that necessary?

Akira: No, but it was dope

Rohan: Understandable, carry on

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Rohan: Why did God deem it necessary for me to exist

Koichi:

Koichi: *gestures to Akira*

Rohan: Oh yeah, that's why

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Rohan: I despise you immensely, your music is absolute garbage and your sense of fashion is atrocious

Akira: You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid

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Akira: Rohan, babe, hun, hotstuff, light of my life-

Rohan: No I will not pass you the aux cord

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Josuke: Isn't that, like, your twentieth drawing of Otoishi?

Rohan: And don't you still have that stupid hairstyle? Fuck off

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Koichi: Rohan-sensei said you have pretty hair and a nice ass

Akira, twirling a strand of hair: He thinks it's pretty?

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Akira: Do you think I have a type?

Josuke: Yeah, the unlovable

Rohan: I am riGHT HERE-

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Rohan: That's ridiculous, Otoishi doesn't like me at all

Reimi: Yes he does

Koichi: Yes he does

Akira: Yes I do

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Rohan: If I run and jump at Akira, he will most certainly catch me

Rohan, running at Akira: CATCH

Akira: NO I'M HOLDING MY GUITAR-

Akira: *catches Rohan with one arm, still holding guitar*

Rohan: How the fu-

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They've taken over me and now I'm obsessed with these two dumbasses. They're chaotically in love and I'm here for it

[this-is-spn20]

Day 17 of Christmas: Drive Around and Look at Christmas Lights

You decided to stay in New York for three more days. You were excited honestly! You felt energized, you hadn’t slept so well in so long. The city was always alive while you slept, and that’s what made you so calm. Sam and Dean had a bit of a culture shock yesterday. They were light sleepers so when they heard the loud car horns, it was hard for them to fall asleep but they got through it! You were helping them as best as you could to help them settle in at least a little as you’d be here for the rest of the weekend. You figured despite the boy’s slight exhaustion, they’d be excited for more exploration of the city! Today you’d told them you’d be riding around the city. Just looking at the pretty decorations and lights everyone put up.

You locked up your apartment and headed down to your favorite Mexican restaurant a few blocks away. You let the boys order first before ordering your usual and making small talk with the cashier. After you guys admired the decorations in the restaurant, you paid the bill and left into the brisk, December air. Immediately your nose turned red and your cheeks did as well, responding to the cool wind flowing through the city. It was nice, seeing all the store owners put so much into decorating their shops for the holidays. It was always nice when the city was filled with a bit of holiday cheer. You’d go to the little cafe at the edge of Lower Manhattan and you all bought hot chocolates to keep yourselves warm. You could hear Dean let out a small hiss as he picked up his drink and took a small sip. You felt the same as all of you were freezing. That's one thing you never cared for in New York. No matter how many layers you wore, the cold always seemed to seep through any protection you may have had. And the quick contrast from being in a warm building to the cold air in the street was sure to make you catch something at the very least. 

You’d asked the boys if they were up to going to explore different burrows of the city with you. Knowing they were dying for some good old adventure, they said yes! And so there you were sitting on a train to Time Square. One of the few places you hadn’t taken them. The blinding LED lights would always brighten your mood. No matter where you were in the world. All you had to do is think of this concrete jungle and it’d bring a starry shine to your eyes. You looked around in wonder at the bustling streets like it was your first time there. The decorations on the staple buildings were so god dammed pretty, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh. Sam chuckled at your blissful self. Slightly shaking his head he spoke up and said, “You know, I think we’re supposed to be staring open-mouthed at everything, not you.” You blushed as Dean joined in. “Yeah Y/n, save some excitement for the rest of us.” 

“Well excuse me if I just so happen to be enjoying myself, boys. But I miss this place. I haven’t been here in a while. I just can’t explain it, this place is magical.” You looked around you and the boys looked at each other and smiled softly as they saw your happy face. They couldn’t say they ever saw you so relaxed and happy. Walking down Time Square, you showed them some places you loved to just relax at. The decorations were even better on this side of town. Huge blow-up snowmen and Santa Clauses all around. There was a woman ringing a big old bell telling people to donate to a cause of some sort, but you kept walking, knowing they’d take the donations straight to their own bank accounts. 

The boys and you were just content on walking the city and enjoying the lights, and each other’s company. Your boisterous laughs filled the streets as some people look at you all with a bit of disdain but you didn’t care enough to notice as the few white flecks drifted onto your clothes, as the snow began to stick to the ground below you. 

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TAGGING: @fooshigoomies @of-a-chaotic-mind @naturalswifty89

@imaginestuffs

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[queenshelby]

Three O’Clock

31 Days of Kink: Day One

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,236

Warning: Smut, Intercourse while sleeping (consensual) 

Imagine waking up to Cillian being inside you, making you come hard just as you wake from your naughty dreams. What a sexy fantasy, right?

***Jetlag****

‘Just wake me up next time and I will help you Cilly’ you giggled after you caught your husband masturbate while watching some explicit movies at 3am in the morning.

He was still jet-lagged after returning from the US after filing A Quiet Place 2.

‘I am not going to wake you up at 3am in the morning to have sex with you’ he went on to say and you began to smirk, a wide grin forming over your face.

‘No, actually, don’t wake me. Just make love to me while I am asleep. No doubt I will wake up from the pleasure you give me’ you said, suggestively biting your lip.

‘Excuse me?’ Cillian chuckled, thinking that you were joking. But you weren’t.

‘I am serious Cillian. I couldn’t imagine anything sexier than waking up to you being inside me’ you said, secretly hoping that his jetlag would last a little bit longer.

Unfortunately for you, the next two weeks, Cillian slept very well and his jetlag had passed.

***Two Weeks Later***

It was time for your annual camping trip and Cillian was not a fan of camping. Sleeping on the hard ground inside a cold tent wasn’t comfortable and he would usually pack a good number of books to kill some time at night while camping when he couldn’t sleep.

The first night, he read the rest of a novel he started to read two days earlier. The second night, he decided to read your new novel which contained some rather raunchy chapters.

But, unfortunately for Cillian, reading your new novel would make it even more difficult for him to get some sleep and, by 3am, he was still awake that second night at camp.

‘Fuck’ Cillian mumbled to himself, not being able to sleep after reading what he had just read. He loved the fact that you were secretly basing some of the steamy chapters in your novels on your real-life experience with him but, unfortunately, it also made him fantasise about the fantastic sex he has with you on a daily basis.

Bothered by his thoughts, he rolled over to position himself behind you, spooning you without quite touching your body. His cock was fully engorged, thick and long, resting against his own belly button beneath his Calvin Klein briefs.

He huffed briefly, remembering what you had said to him and remembering what you wanted him to do.

He slowly eased his hand along your side, and rested it on your hip. You were unbothered, not even noticing and he thought that this was absolutely ridiculous.

But, what you want, you usually get and, since he was aching for you, he thought why not tonight? So, he slipped his hand down your thigh, pushing your sleeping bag down to reveal your full, round ass. Stroking your smooth leg briefly with one hand, he scooched down to better position himself behind you, then he slipped his hand gently around to the front, gliding his fingertips along your inner thigh just below the heat of your pussy. He grazed your skin, up and down, for several seconds and your breathing picked up.

‘Hmm Cill’ you murmured just as you wiggled around before drifting back off to sleep.

Cillian chuckled slightly before moving one of his hands inside your panties carefully before running two of his fingers along your pussy lips, slightly opening you.

Continuing to caress you, he worked both fingers further and further in, the wetness of your pussy quickly becoming apparent. Keeping his fingers around the outside of your vulva, he opened you up even more.

You repositioned one of your legs to open yourself up to him, still deeply emerged in your dreams. You often had wild dreams, very wet dreams so this was nothing unusual. Sometimes, you would even touch yourself in your sleep. By this point, you didn’t even realise what Cillian was doing to you.

Cillian carefully pushed down your panties, before quickly removing his briefs, stroking his hard member a few times before lining it up against your entrance.

After lubricating himself with some of your wetness, Cillian slowly slid himself inside you. Still asleep, you gasped, feeling his thickness pushing in.

When he was half way inside you, Cillian moved his hand up to your hip to get a firm grip on you as he pushed his full length inside you. Surely, this would wake you up, he thought.

But it didn’t. Still deep within your wild dreams, your breath was becoming more laboured now and you let out a soft moan before trying to turn around, wanting to pull your sleeping back over you.

Cillian held himself there momentarily, still impressed by the fact that you hadn’t yet woken up. After your movements stilled, he slid all the way out and then all the way in again slowly, repeatedly thrusting himself into you, eliciting the same pleasing moan each time.

For several minutes he fucked you while spooning, plunging himself into you over and over again.

Involuntarily, you began to push back against him, not quite knowing what was going on but slowly waking up from your deep sleep.

Your movements made Cillian groan and it wasn’t long until you realised what was happening. You could feel your sexy husband’s cock thrust in and out of you as you were waking up and as soon as he realised that you were waking up, he picked up speed, matching your hip's motion, and clutching a handful of your hair, pulling your head back, your mouth still open and gasping.

‘Fuck Y/N you are so sexy, you know that?’ Cillian groaned and you moaned loudly in response.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you moaned as you could feel your orgasm building while you were still in a trance, your eyes closed as you were remembering the dream you had about Cillian taking you over the kitchen bench at home.

‘That’s it babe’ Cillian moaned, feeling your walls clench around him and, just like this, you both came together in sync.

Cillian grabbed your waist tightly as you moaned his name several times. Both of your orgasms came on hard and fast.

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, filling you with his warm cum. Just as he did, you reached your hand down between you and ran your fingertips along his testicles, eliciting a moan of unexpected pleasure from him, milking the last of his seed from him. Stroking him gently, you were lying there and focused on the feeling of his cock throbbing away inside you as you both came down from your high.

‘Oh fuck, please wake me up like this every morning Cilly’ you giggled as Cillian pulled out of you gently.

‘It’s 3am babe’ Cillian chuckled and you laughed briefly.

‘Oh god…you really need to go to sleep now Cilly’ you murmured as you pulled up your panties. You never opened your eyes through this and it didn’t take you long to fall back asleep as Cillian was cuddling up against you from behind.

This time, Cillian joined you in your dreams, finally able to get some sleep himself.

Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse   @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni  @momoneymolife  @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03  @mcntsee​@cloudofdisney​ @missymurphy1985​​ @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @otterly-fey janelongxox  @uchihacumdump @chaotic-bean-of-smolness​

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@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee  @daydreamingnymph  @fookingshelby   @chocolatehalo

[theladyofdeath]

The Ranch {3}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: We thrive on all the beautiful comments you send us about this story. It’s been one of our favorites to write! Enjoy. xx

The Ranch Masterlist

Warning: mature content 

Nesta’s back was pressed up against the wall by the door and Cassian’s hands were cradling her face. His lips were devouring her, and one of her hands was tangled in his loose hair while the other was exploring the expanse of hot, tanned skin that his open shirt left exposed.

As his lips broke from hers, he leaned back slightly. He breathed, “Please tell me that was an offer. Please, fuck, just-.” He let go of her face and grabbed her ass, pulling her against him and letting her feel how hard he’d become. “I’ll back off if it wasn’t and I read the play wrong, but fuck, I want you, Nesta. I’ve wanted you since the moment I walked into the main house and found that perky, little ass in the air cleaning out the fridge, throwing away my beer, and just generally throwing a wrench into my life.” He gripped her ass tighter, making her gasp. “And I think you want me, too.” He dropped his lips to her neck, pressing a kiss to her skin between words. “Please.” Kiss. “Please.” Kiss. “Please.”

Nesta responded with fiddling with the button of his jeans until they became undone. Her cheeks were flushed as she whispered, “Don't be gentle.”

Cassian leaned back, slowly, until his eyes found hers. They were ignited, dazed, completely wild. 

His breath was hot against her skin, smelling like sweet bourbon. 

The length of him pressed up against her thigh was nearly her undoing, alone. It had been so long since she’d been with a man, and the man in front of her was six-foot-five of unadulterated beauty.

Steady hands found the hem of her tank top and pulled it over her head. Beau had made himself scarce as Cassian dropped the thin piece of fabric to the carpet. Her bra was unhooked, expertly, Cassian’s eyes never leaving hers until it was gone, then they trailed to her breasts. Nesta’s breathing hitched as she watched his eyes trail down her body and she was grateful for the alcohol to control her nerves.

It was the alcohol that put them in this position in the first place, but Nesta couldn’t bring herself to care as his mouth started at her neck, and started trailing lower and lower.

His lips closed around her nipple, followed by his teeth, and he tugged gently. A quiet moan tumbled from her and her fingers tightened in his loose hair. He pressed himself into her harder, and pulled back, his lips a breath away from her own, and breathed, “Nesta, I-.”

A loud buzzing from across the room interrupted him and all at once, Nesta realized what she was about to do, who she was with, what she was - or better yet - what she wasn’t wearing. “You should get that.”

He shook his head. “No, I can call them back.”

It was clear his mouth was about to return to its former spot and she knew if she let Cassian’s lips touch her skin again, they wouldn’t leave anytime soon. So she firmly pushed against his chest, attempting to unwind his legs from where they were wrapped around him like a vice. He gripped her tighter, holding her tighter against him. She had to stop herself from moaning as she felt his generous length pressing against her neglected sex.

She didn’t give herself a chance to hesitate, knowing if he kept rubbing her lower back like that, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from having him.

She placed a hand on his chest and pushed again lightly. “It might be about one of my sisters.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and out through his nose. But he nodded and her feet once again touched the floor.

He turned and crossed the room, heading for where he’d left his phone on the kitchen counter. Before he even reached for it, he knew it would be the group chat between he, Az and Rhys. Sure enough, the chat had ten unread messages and he glanced through them quickly. It was exactly what he expected.

Azriel and Elain had left shortly after Cass and Nesta, stopping in the parking lot at Rhysand’s truck. Feyre had yelled at Elain for keeping Nesta’s arrival from her and ambushing her until they were both in tears and Rhys and Azriel were left picking up the pieces.

Cassian prayed that Nesta wouldn’t ask what the texts were as he quickly typed out a reply that they had made it home and he’d talk to them tomorrow. She’d be destroyed if she knew Elain had cried because of her. She’d be pissed if she knew Feyre was the cause.

But he didn’t have to worry about that. Because after he put his phone down, he turned, ready to pick right back up where he’d been with the beautiful storm of a woman who had blown into his life.

Only to find that the door was wide open and she was gone.

____________________

Nesta woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and memories from the night before that she wished to forget.

The moment she walked into the bathroom, just after nine, she cringed.

She looked as bad as she felt. 

After turning on the shower, she stripped herself down and stepped into the warm water. She was mortified. Not that she wanted Cassian in the first place, because any woman would, but that she let it get that far. It was inappropriate, to say the least.

Aside from the fact that she had known him all of two days, she was technically his boss. She may not have paid him, but, through their agreement, he had to do whatever she asked on the property. Crossing that line, even once, was a gross overstepping of boundaries.

After her shower, she popped two aspirin, not even drying her hair before she threw it in a loose bun atop her head, and knew she couldn’t put off the day any longer. She walked up the path towards the main house, the red paint of her car standing out against the old, muted wood. She paused and looked at it, noticing the beauty in the image. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, unable to stop herself from turning back to look in the direction of the cabin.

Please tell me that was an offer.

Nesta turned on her heel and continued up the stairs and into the house. She took up her normal place in the kitchen, this time on her hands and knees, trying to bring what little life she could back into the old wood floors.

I’ll back off if it wasn’t and I read the play wrong.

Nesta ground her teeth as she dunked the rag back into the soapy water.

It wasn’t that he read the play wrong, he read the play exactly right, down to the way he kissed her and touched her and the way his voice flowed across her skin.

And it had been so long since a man had appreciated her so. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t enjoyed it, said it meant nothing to her.

But lie she would, because anything else would be the downfall of her father’s legacy, and she had disappointed her father enough.

She sat back, tossing the rag into the soapy bucket as her back hit the cabinets. She pulled up her knees, dropped her face into her hands, and groaned.

It was all a mistake.

One big fucking mistake.

Nesta had no idea what she was doing, no idea what she had truly gotten herself into. A month ago, she had been living her dream, and now, she was back in a town she had tried so hard to leave, only upsetted her sisters with her presence, nearly slept with a man under her employment, and was on her hands and knees scrubbing at floorboards.

But this was it.

That was her new reality, because she had sold everything else. This new, shitty life of hers was all she had left.

The knock on the front door snapped her out of her pity party and she stood, wiping her hands down her baggy t-shirt. She glanced down and saw tiny dots where the blue fabric was darker than the rest. Nesta wiped her face, not even realizing she’d let herself cry, and headed for the door.

She pulled it open and found three uniformed delivery men on the other side. “Nesta Archeron?”

————————

Cassian noted Nesta’s little car, sitting by the house across the way from his cabin before he trekked up to the main house. It had been a long day. Hot as hell, and a long to do list. By the time the sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky, he was exhausted.

But his frustration kept him going.

He couldn’t let himself sit, couldn’t let himself relax, because when he did, all he saw was Nesta, pushed up against the wall, her legs wrapped around his body, topless. 

And how she left without an excuse or a goodbye.

Which simultaneously pissed him off and made him feel like an idiot.

He needed to go for a ride. Nothing helped clear his mind more than riding through the pastures after a long, hard day.

Stopping in front of the shed behind the house, he reached into his pockets for his keys and remembered that they were still on the table by the recliner. The recliner that he would always see her sitting in, her legs tucked under her, chin propped in her hand, somehow looking cute as hell and sexier than sin at the same time.

He swore and headed for the back door of the main house, praying that she hadn’t gotten around to “cleaning” the laundry room like she did the fridge. Warm or not, beer was beer. He’d drink it.

As he got closer, he noticed a light on in the kitchen, but with the blinds pulled shut, couldn’t tell if anyone was in there. Her car sat in front of her house though, so he figured he’d be all alone.

When he lightly jogged up the stairs and threw the door open, he was hit the most amazing smell of his entire life. He also found out that he was very, very wrong.

The kitchen looked completely different than it had just that morning. Stainless steel appliances had replaced the ones that had been there for as long as Cassian could remember, including the little fridge that had now been replaced with a fridge bigger than anyone should need. And standing in front of the stovetop, stirring something in a massive skillet, was Nesta.

Whose shoulders tensed the moment Cassian shut the door behind him.

“What the hell happened in here?” he muttered.

Nesta didn’t turn to face him as she said, “It’s been updated.”

Yes, it had. Not only were there new appliances, but a new, bigger, longer table sat where the old one used to. It was a high top, made of dark wood. One of the stools alone most likely cost as much as the last table.

Considering Isaac had built the last one himself.

Cassian wanted to grab her by the shoulders and pull an explanation out of her, but he didn’t. Instead, he said, “Looks nice.” I guess, he added, inside of his mind. He thought the kitchen looked nice before, though, too. 

“What’re you making?” he asked, when she said nothing.

Her shoulders rose and fell as she took a long, deep breath. “Food.”

Fine. Cassian could take a hint. He stalked down the hall and went into the laundry room. Apparently she hadn’t made it there yet, thankfully, so Cassian took the key to the shed off the hook and grabbed a beer out of an already-opened box and popped it open before walking back into the kitchen. 

He didn’t want to tiptoe around this, didn’t want to drag this out any longer than he had to, so he leaned a hip against the cabinet next to the stove and looked at her.

She either had very little or no makeup on. He had no idea she had the lightest of freckles scattered across her nose. Her hair was loosely piled on top of her head. She wore a ratty t-shirt, something scrawled across the back in French, and ripped jeans. He had never seen her look so raw. Never seen her look so beautiful.

When she finally looked over at him, those stormy eyes, eyes he’d nearly drowned in the night before, were like stone. “What.”

The bite in her voice hurt in a way he wasn’t expecting. “Where’d you go last night?”

She turned back to the skillet, flipping the large steak sizzling in it to its other side. “I realized it was extremely inappropriate for me to be there, so I remedied the situation.”

Cassian blinked. “Remedied the situa-? Nes, I turned around for thirty seconds and you disappeared.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “We hardly know each other.”

Cassian opened his mouth to say something but words escaped him. The night before, even before they had made it back to his cabin, Cassian felt like they had made a connection. Now, he had no idea what was going on, had no idea what was going on the second he turned around to find her gone.

“Okay,” he began, slowly. “Did I offend you in some way?”

She dropped her spatula, only to rub her temples. Her eyes fell shut. “Look. I’m your boss, okay? Last night was inappropriate.” 

Cassian blinked. Out of all the things he expected her to say, that wasn’t one of them.

“Inappropriate,” he repeated. Nesta turned and crossed the kitchen, picking up a knife and chopping herbs - on a kitchen island that definitely hadn’t existed that morning. She didn’t say anything, just ran her knife through the greenery with expert technique. “You’re saying you don’t want to be with me because it’s inappropriate?”

She grabbed a garlic clove from her cutting board and smashed it with the flat of her knife. “Yes.”

He took a drink from his beer and sat it down. “Because you’re my ‘boss’.”

Nesta pretended he hadn’t used the air quotes when he said boss and used her knife to move the garlic and herbs to her awaiting skillet. She didn’t look at him as she turned and sprinkled it over the steak. “Yes.”

“And it’s not because you don’t want me to fuck you?”

As she turned to him, it occurred to Cassian that he maybe should have waited until she wasn’t holding a knife to ask her that.

To his pleasure, she slowly set it down atop her cutting board. She remained silent.

It wasn’t until Cassian took a step toward her that she spat, “I was drunk. People do stupid shit when they’re drunk.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he said, stopping on the other side of the island. 

He leaned against it, on his elbows, and she scowled. “Get your filthy elbows off my countertop,” she said, in a venomous quiet. 

Cassian cocked his head to the side. “Not until you answer my question.”

Nesta didn’t say a word.

“Because last night,” Cassian went on, “you were begging me.”

Nesta lifted her chin. “I was drunk.”

“Drunk people often are the most honest,” Cassian shot back, grinning.

Her expression didn’t change. “Did you need something?”

He held up the keys. “Needed the spare keys to the shed. Wanted to go for a ride since I didn’t get one last night.”

“You’re a pig.” She turned back to her skillet and though she was clearly dismissing him, but he didn’t move.

“You said it had been two years, Nesta. I’m not asking you to marry me, I’m just suggesting we have a little fun.” Her eyes slipped closed and she sighed. He pressed onward. “I’m not even saying anything long term, just a little release and-.”

“That’s not how it works for me,” she said, cutting him off. “You may be able to fuck whoever you please, but I can’t do that.”

“You’re a grown ass woman,” Cassian said. “You can do whatever you want.”

“Are you done?” She asked, exasperated. “This conversation is over, so unless you need something else, fuck off.”

Cassian simply lifted a brow. “You’re my boss. It’s inappropriate for you to use such language with me.”

Nesta was fuming. “Get out, or our deal is off and I will fire you.”

“You wouldn’t,” he pushed, eyes not leaving hers for even a second. “This whole place would go to shit without me.”

“Try me,” she spat. 

At last, Cassian's smile slowly faded and his eyes turned hard. He wanted to say a million things, but all of them faded away. Cassian had a feeling she didn’t say things just to say things. She was dead fucking serious.

Cassian pushed himself off the island and Nesta’s eyes followed him as he took a step back, jaw locked, and gripped the keys in his hand as he trailed back toward the door. He stopped, though, before reaching for the handle. 

After slowly turning to meet her gaze, Cassian said, “And to think I thought your own sister was wrong about you.”

He pretended not to see the flicker of pain in her eyes as he opened the back door and let himself out. 

[implexedactions]

I will protect you

You are a citizen of Dunwall, under the reign of Corvo Attano, the ruthless emperor. He lost everyone who mattered to him, and turned cold as a result. What happens when he stumbles upon you? 

(A/N): Just played through the first game recently, and now I'm in love with the game (and also Corvo). I watched someone play through the 2nd game AGES ago and read about the Emperor Corvo ending and got very excited, so I wrote this! This does feature kidnapping, although nothing sexual happens, but the non-con tag didn't feel right, so this is just a warning if you're not one for possessive behaviour, protectiveness or things like that.

If there is a Tag/Content Warning I forgot to add, PLEASE tell me!

Find me and the fic on Ao3

It was a dark, stormy night in Dunwall. The city was in ruins, which seemed to be the status quo. You were scavenging a ruined building, close to the royal district. You could hear music and party coming from inside. You envied them, a lot. As a child you always imagined being in the royal district, living the life of a noble person. Emily was a kind and wise ruler then, after Corvo had silently and mercifully changed the course of history, Dunwall grew brighter every day.

Then a usurper almost killed Emily, and something within Corvo broke. He ruthlessly killed everyone, civilian or enemy alike, on his way back to the throne. He didn’t even free Emily, saying that, at least when she was in stone, he could always protect her. Almost losing everything for a second time really changes a person, you guessed. He became the new emperor of Dunwall and a dark age settled upon the land. The city was falling down around him, with brute force and dark power replacing the subtle and wise ways of Emily.

He was renowned for retaking the throne for Emily after her mother’s death with not a drop of blood spilled on either side. In retaking the throne a second time, it appeared as if he was trying to make up for lost time, the blood of civilians, guards, and nobles, all spilt through the land. It wasn’t even that bad in Dunwall, Karnaca had been thrown into disarray and was essentially a ghost town.

You realised it was probably late, and decided to just walk home, leaving the shell of the house to wither away another day. The storm raged as you walked home, staring up at the walls to the throne room. You failed to notice the man staring down at you.

---

The next morning, you awoke to your slum-like apartment. With Corvo in charge, the nobles were all thrown out, so basically everyone was living in cold, dreary, apartments. The sense of karma from seeing nobles starve to death did little to help your disposition though. You moved around the apartment, eating a meagre breakfast, before closing the window that blew open during the storm while you were sleeping. Emerging onto the damp street, you walked to the market stalls, hoping to sell or barter the stolen goods you collected the previous night.

The marketplace was busy, even the now passed storm hadn’t dissuaded many people from coming. Then someone called out to you. A man wearing an almost skull like mechanical mask walked up to you. It seemed familiar but you couldn’t place a finger on it.

“You have a gold pendant? Stole it from that blue apartment near the royal district, 3rd floor, bedroom, red jewel in the centre? 10pm yesterday?” he said, bluntly

“So what if I do?” you responded, cautious of anyone who knew your exact movements. He was correct of course, but you didn’t need him knowing that.

“200 gold”

You gasped, 200 gold was more than you expected, you could eat well for weeks with that much. Safety be damned, you needed that money!

“Deal, thank you so much! You have no idea what this means to me”

“Oh, I think I do, my little jewel” he said handing you the money, his hand lingering in yours before he stepped back into the madness of the street, gone from your sight.

With the rather rich creep gone, you bought a few rations from the stalls then walked home. Fingers on the money in your pocket constantly, determined to not lose it.

---

The window was open again. That was the first thing you noticed as you walked in. You put the money in your safe, then walked over, cautious to inspect it. The lock was forced open, that much was clear, there were signs of someone trying to get in.

You froze, the window was open, if someone was trying to get in, then they HAD gotten-

Suddenly, two hands grabbed you from behind, and as if aided by magic, you passed out almost instantly.

---

You awoke to chains around your ankles and wrists. A noble room, with a roaring fire across from the room. It seemed to have a double bed, with a large window behind it. It was night, and there were large shadows being cast by the fire. Crawling as far as you could to the window, you looked outside. There was a new storm raging outside, so visibility was low. You were high up however, very high up.

“Hello! Is anyone there? Help!” you shouted

No one replied. You walked as far as your chains allowed. Which wasn’t very far, there wasn’t anything within your reach. Above the fire was a very large painting of Corvo Attano. Honestly, you hated him at this rate. If he didn’t go on that bloody rampage in Karnaca, things could’ve been so much better for Dunwall. If Emily was queen again things would be so much better

“Fucking bastard…” you say to the painting.

“Now that’s not a nice way to speak to your kind host, is it?”

Your blood ran cold. That reply could only mean one thing, you weren’t an idiot. You turned to the shadowy corner where Corvo Attano stood, seemingly invisible unless you knew he was there, like you unfortunately did.

He stepped out of the corner and walked over to you.

“What do you want with me?!”

“Oh a lot of things, all of them good. Right now just one thing, your hand in marriage” he said, like it wasn’t the weirdest request imaginable

“What?! No? Of course not! Are you an idiot?” you screamed in response, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

“Oh, it wasn’t really a question, more a statement. You see, since I am the emperor, the abbey will basically do whatever I like, including allowing the forced marriage of two people…” he trailed off.

“If it makes you feel better, my sweet jewel, you’ll have the best life. The nicest things in the empire, every whim catered to, people will have to obey you”, he continued sweetly, “otherwise they’d have to answer to me, and not many people stand up to me and live” he said with a sudden change in tone, the threat in the air apparent as all hell.

“Why me?”

“Well, your fine looks are part of your charm, of course. But your kindness is the main reason. When I was on the run, helping Emily to retake the throne, I got trapped by those guards near the estate district. You helped me, remember? You looked at me hiding, about to be found by the guards, then ran up and told them you saw a weeper attacking one of their hounds. They ran off, determined to save the bloodthirsty hound. You saved me, and at the time, I was merely grateful, it was just another reason of why I should save and protect this accursed city.”

“You see, the empress was always so kind, it was the reason I fell in love with her. And one of the many reasons I tried to encourage the trait in Emily. I was so naïve then, thinking kindness and compassion could win out. Then Delilah Copperspoon happened, and I had to face reality”. He paused and looked away.

“Everyone I love would be ripped away from me. It was just a fact. My kindness only let others kill those I loved. My desire for a less chaotic world forced me away from the empress for the six months that led to her being killed. And then Emily…”

He starts choking up a bit, and you’re taken aback. The evil emperor Corvo has a heart…well a twisted one admittedly. You ARE currently being kidnapped, and he’s done horrible things to the empire. It’s not really an excuse.

“Emily was still so…. I had to leave her in the stone, it was the only way I could protect her, by becoming as ruthless as I needed to”

You prod a bit. “Couldn’t you free her from the stone, it's not like she’s gone forever. Things can still go back to normal, right?”

His fist slams into the wall as he stares at you with fire in his eyes.

“NO! Things can never go back to normal! The world is cruel and unkind, and it will only keep taking from those who find themselves caught in its sights! This is the only way I can protect her!”

You back yourself into a corner, huddling and hoping he doesn’t hurt you.

“But when I saw you the other day, I was reminded of your act of kindness. I wanted to help you, to protect you. I broke into your house that night, while you slept to figure out how to best help you. I only meant to help you, that was all it was at first. As I stared at you while you slept, well, I couldn’t help but wonder if you could eventually warm up to me…”

“But then after I gave you that money, at the markets? That was me by the way. A man saw, and he tried to follow you with a knife… I stopped him, of course, his body now litters the sidewalk. But it showed me that you wouldn’t be safe out there, I couldn’t just help you by giving you gold and gifts. I HAD to protect you, to save you from the storm the world had become. And from there I think you can guess what happened.”

You stare at him, shocked at the events unfolding in front of you. You try to reason with him

“Please, I’ll give the money back, just let me go! I don’t want this!”

“Oh my sweet jewel, I don’t care what you think, really. I know how the world is, and I know I must protect you above everything else. When it comes down to it, my desire to protect you overrides your feelings about the matter. It is safe in here, where I can protect you. It is not safe out there, where I cannot protect you. It’s not that complicated of an idea.”

“But, surely the empress wouldn’t want you to kidnap-”

He suddenly appears by your side, a knife against your throat.

“If you value your life, you will never speak of her again. She was- is important to me, she did so much for me and the empire only for the empire to double-cross her. I made the mistake of being forgiving once, and after Emily, I vowed to never make that same mistake again. I have powers far beyond your comprehension, jewel, it would be unwise to cross me. I adore you, but that will only get you so far”

You try not to move, his sudden teleporting across the room was shocking. It was like he froze time.

“Okay, I won’t mention…her again, okay? Just, get that knife away from my neck, please?”

“Of course, my jewel. Now, I can’t trust you right away, as explained by the chains. But I swear they are a temporary measure if you behave. I have to go meet with, and then kill, some nobles requesting aid, okay? But I’ll be back in an hour. Okay, my sweet jewel? I will protect you, that is my promise”

[a-second-hand-sorrow]

Living Together Headcanons (Richie Tozier X Reader)

WC: 805

Warnings: Language, it’s mostly just pure so that’s fun

Summary: What it’s like for Y/N, Richie and John to live together

Tagged: @tozierskaspb @ashleybees @billhaderlovebot

A/N: MORE PRCU CONTENT!! this was so much fun to write. It is set from about 2010 til 2012. also excuse me using a stefon gif but it had both Bill and John so I figured it would work pretty well. Enjoy guys!

Ok so John and Y/N have lived together since they graduated from college. They went halves on a very cheap, very dodgy apartment in New York and that’s where they’ve lived since then. Obviously they did it up as best as two broke college graduates could, but it was weird and strange and it was their home.

Now for Y/N and Richie’s one year anniversary, Richie asks Y/N to move in with him. As much as Y/N wants to, she can’t leave John because he’s her best friend so Y/N proposes that Richie instead moves in with them. They wouldn’t need another room bc Richie could just move into Y/N’s room, and Richie and John were pretty close anyway.

Richie said yes pretty quickly, and then before thanksgiving 2010 they were all living together in that same shitty apartment from all those years ago. 

They lived together for about two years until Richie and Y/N got married and decided to buy their own, nicer apartment somewhere else in New York. Anna ended up moving in with John into the apartment and it was all good.

Anyway, those two years were some of the most chaotic of their lives. So. Much. Chaos. When you put three very funny, very talented people in a small space shit is bound to go down.

For example, Y/N has a tendency to wake up in the middle of the night and not go back to bed, so she will often wander into the kitchen and get something to eat. One time the noise she made from trying to make a bowl of cereal without turning on the lights lead Richie to wake up and think there is someone in the house, and his panic doubled when he noticed Y/N wasn’t next to him. So he picked up Y/N’s very thick copy of Wolf Hall and rushed into the kitchen, turning the lights on to reveal his girlfriend sitting on top of the kitchen bench, wearing one of his shirts and eating a bowl of dry cereal. There was a bit of an argument that followed this, and the best part was that John slept through the whole thing.

Though it can be chaotic, it is always fun. Y/N has a tendency to play loud music whenever she’s doing anything and that often leads to aggressive lip syncs and dance sessions with the three of them in the kitchen or living room.

Sometime she plays stuff from a bunch of different musicals that Richie has never heard before, and although he likes to make fun of her for being a nerdy theatre kid he really loves watching her get so into the music and just having fun.

Before John and Anna got together, he would occasionally bring girls home and sometimes Y/N would grill the poor girl at breakfast the next morning after making it very clear that she was not dating John, she was just his closest friend and was very protective.

Richie sings in the shower. So does Y/N but the funniest part is that Richie almost exclusively sings Taylor Swift songs despite denying that he likes her if he’s asked. To combat this blatant lie, Y/N once recorded a particularly intense shower session of Love Story and kept it on her phone for if Richie ever denied liking Taylor Swift near her.

MOVIE NIGHTS!!!! Every Thursday night these dorks have a movie night in the living room. They take turns with who picks the movie each week, and most of the time they can’t hear the fucking movie over all the commentary being made by each other. Richie and Y/N always end up cuddled together under the blanket, his arm around her shoulders and hers around his waist. If it’s a horror movie they’re watching, John and Y/N gang up and gently bully Richie for his reactions to the scares (however after Y/N finds out about all the shit that went down in Derry she feels fucking horrible for making fun of him and promises to never do it again because we do Not make fun of trauma in this house)

Y/N always does the cooking bc the boys are Hopeless, however John is a surprisingly good baker. They’ve banned Richie from the kitchen after The Incident, because HOW CAN YOU BURN WATER, RICHARD?????

he didn’t just burn the water but a good majority of the tea towels and paper towels in the kitchen. he also nearly blew up the kitchen trying to turn on the stove so he has since been Evicted from ever being in the kitchen for food preparation purposes.

Anyway these three living together is utter chaos but it’s a household full of love and laughter

[bugaboosandbees]

Reine Ruse Part 2

Hello all!

I'm sorry that this second chapter took so long to write. I'm a bit of a recovering perfectionist, so it's still strange to share my writing with others and I ended up putting it off quite a bit...

As a result, it's not been closely proofread so as to avoid giving me time to second guess myself.

(This chapter is quite a bit saltier than I'd planned it to be... oops! I discovered how difficult it is to make it reasonable for Mari to want to spend her time with Chloe if everyone else isn’t being kind of pretty awful.)

Please let me know if you have any comments or suggestions on how I can improve. Seeing what you all think really makes my day. :)

Also, feel free to let me know if you’d like me to add you to the tag list! (Or remind me if I’ve forgotten... computers are hard sometimes.)

Tikki

Tikki was worried about her bug. Of course, she loved all of her chosen deeply, but Marinette was so young. She was also the first in such a long time to have such unbridled joy in creation. Tikki could feel her powers sing in harmony with Marinette’s soul as the girl drew and sewed, knitted and baked, and tended the steadily growing garden on her rooftop balcony. And then there were the days when her young chosen would do something so reckless or chaotic and it would strike Tikki like a bolt to the chest how much Marinette could remind her of Plagg.

She knew that it was stupid and illogical, but sometimes when she slept at night, she selfishly dreamt that the girl was really theirs. Beyond loving Marinette as a partner and a friend and a mentor, Tikki loved her as a mother. And it was tearing her apart inside to see her chosen, hers, so distraught. She tried to be there for Marinette as best as she could, pressing into her side from inside her purse and offering encouraging words. She had never wanted quite so badly to be human, to have arms to hug the child of her spirit with. She knew she was being selfish, she would never dream of taking Marinette away from her human mother who had those arms, ready for hugging, if only she could persuade her chosen to make use of them!

She cursed everything that she’d said to Marinette in the beginning. Lessons to make her into a better Ladybug be damned, she’d somehow managed to convince her chosen that the weight of the entire world rested on her small shoulders and that she didn’t deserve to ask for help in carrying her burdens and nothing she said now could convince the girl otherwise. Plagg’s wayward chosen certainly wasn’t helping either! The next time she saw her other half, she was going to have words with him about disciplining his kit.

She had to admit that she was actually grateful for Chloe Bourgeois. That wasn’t something she thought she’d ever say. She’d disliked the girl from the moment that she’d first heard her belittling her chosen from her hiding place in Marinette’s bag. That being said, for some reason, she was the only rock that Marinette seemed willing to cling to in the storm she was fighting through. It had been a week since she’d first seen her bug fall into the Bourgeois girl’s arms through Marinette’s transformed eyes. She’d found herself accompanying her chosen to Chloe’s balcony every night since seeing a new side of the blonde as she treated her chosen as the treasure she was.

She was relieved that Marinette was allowing someone to pick up her broken pieces. She wished she could do more to help, but she would be there, right by her chosen’s side until the very end, and that would have to be enough.

Marinette

Walking into class the morning after she had fallen apart in the comforting arms of the girl who’d bullied her for years was easier than Marinette expected. She looked up as she crossed the threshold of the room. It wasn’t unusual to see the entire class gathered around Lila and Adrien’s desk, or, unfortunately, the death glares the group sent toward her as soon as she’d come through the door.

“Good morning.” She hated how her greeting was quieter than it had been since the previous year, since before she’d met her first real friends. Now she was back to wondering what awful things would happen if she spoke too loudly or took up too much space in this room. She couldn’t afford to be further targeted by Lila, she couldn’t afford to be akumatized. If that meant returning herself to the sidelines, that was what she was going to have to do.

“Marinette!” It was Alya, voice strong with the righteous anger that used to fill Marinette with awe and pride in her friend. “How could you?!”

Marinette wasn’t quite sure what exactly she was supposed to have done, but she shrank back from Alya’s anger nonetheless. She must have looked confused because the class bristled.

“I’m sure there’s some explanation,” Lila simpered tearfully from the middle of the group.

“Explanation?!” It was a wonder Alya’s screech didn’t deafen her. “She convinced Gabriel Agreste that you stole your designs for the contest from her because she was jealous you won the internship! There is no explanation or excuse to defend what a bitch she’s being!”

E tu, Alya? Marinette’s jaw dropped. Lila had been discovered? But, she never talked to Mr. Agreste. She’d cried and given it up as a lost cause. Even if she could somehow get in contact with Mr. Agreste, she’d die before letting her idol know the trouble she was facing or how weak she was. But if she hadn’t told Mr. Agreste that Lila had stolen her designs, who had?

Chloe

It had been a week since Chloe returned from vacation with her mother to find that everything had somehow gone wrong at school in her absence, the entire class fawning over the shady Italian exchange student who was obviously lying through her teeth and glaring daggers at the little-miss-too-perfect-for-words Marinette Dupain-Cheng as they’d rarely even dared glare at her in the past. When Cesaire of all people had led the charge in tearing down Marin--- Dupain-Cheng for claiming that Liar-la’s contest-winning designs were actually hers, Chole found herself breaking into the conversation (not to be nice or anything) out of sheer shock. She left the class alone for two weeks to spend some (admittedly disappointing) time with her mother, and they apparently no longer had two brain cells gathered between them.

After the disastrous Monday of her return, Chloe had initially planned not to do anything about the strange situation at school. She had no interest in Lila’s plans, whatever they were, and it was frankly amusing to see her holier-than-thou classmates fawning over the liar. Then, after Ladybug had left that first night, Chloe had found herself, quite against her will, thinking of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, running out of the classroom, tears streaming down her face. Something about Ladybug’s story had reminded her of the sudden changes in the class’ attitude toward the blue-haired designer and, even if she’d never been and would likely never be friends with the baker’s daughter, she could certainly appreciate the appeal of working out her frustrations with Ladybug’s traitor friends on the class full of turncoats she did have sway over. Besides, it had become significantly more fun to irritate Dupain-Cheng since she’d begin to grow a backbone and it irked her to see her rival losing the confidence she’d somehow obtained over something so stupid.

It had been easy to get her father to request a word with Gabriel Agreste who, though a recluse,  wasn’t stupid enough to ignore a request to talk to the mayor of the city his fashion empire was based in. It was almost physically painful for Chloe to tell her father to inform Mr. Agreste that Lila had stolen her designs from Marinette, but she admitted that it would look like a repeat of the derby hat competition if she didn’t have proof that Lila was lying, and she’d learned the hard way about the lengths her classmate went to to prevent the theft of her designs. She told her father to suggest that Mr. Agreste should turn the designs upside down and inspect the stitching that Marinette was sure to have hidden somewhere in her images.

She’d expected to go to class the next day and wade through a sea of satisfying guilt and self-deprecation as her classmates groveled at Marinette’s feet, but it appeared that she’d underestimated either how good a liar Lila was how utterly ridiculous her classmates could be. Lila had somehow managed to convince them that Marinette had tricked Gabriel-fucking-Agreste into believing that Lila was a liar because she was jealous. Chloe was well aware (and somewhat disappointed) that there did not appear to be a vindictive bone in Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s body. She’d seen Marinette’s perfect parents and home long ago and had terrorized her for years, hoping that at some point she’d snap and show that she wasn’t so perfect after all, but no matter what she did Marinette never rose to the bait. She’d even thrown Chloe a fucking party when she’d become Queen Bee. It was thus completely un-fucking-believable to her that the entire class was buying this shit. She was half certain at this point that if Jagged Stone himself came to class and said that he’d never had a kitten, Lila would be able to pass it off as a weirdly specific case of amnesia. Chloe would clearly need to rethink her approach to taking on the interloper, but for now, she had more important things to focus on.

It had been a week since the first day that Ladybug had appeared on her balcony at the beginning of a rainstorm crying and six days since Chloe had discreetly slipped a note to Jean Baptiste, requesting a collection of books -- five since she had returned from school to find them stacked on her desk. She started reading immediately. Ladybug seemed determined to come to her of all people, and she was going to do her level best not to let her hero down. For the rest of the week, Chloe filled the hours between school and Ladybug’s visits with books on imposter syndrome, on dealing with trauma, and on learning how to move on from broken relationships. (If some of those had hit rather too close to home, well, she’d never admit it.) She’d practiced what advice to give and how to respond in front of her bathroom mirror and strategically placed even more pillows than usual on the couch that Ladybug favored. After all, she was a Bourgeois, and when a Bourgeois wanted something done, it was done right. (If she was a bit obsessive about preparing, that could simply be chalked up to never actually having been the one to do any of the aforementioned somethings previously.)

What she lacked in experience of these matters, she made up for in enthusiasm, as evidenced by the cup of hot milk and plate of cookies ready in the room at precisely 8:55 on Thursday night, exactly 5 minutes ahead of Ladybug’s arrival. The heroine had taken to arriving at 9:00 and staying until around midnight, clearly wishing to spend as much time as she could in an environment where she didn’t feel the weight of others’ judgments and expectations. (And didn’t that just make Chloe cringe with regret at the memories of her first several interactions with the spotted hero.)

It did appear that miracle of miracles, the visits were actually helping Ladybug. She hadn’t yet been as distraught as she’d been the first night, and for that Chloe was grateful. They’d mostly chatted about lighter topics or watched movies. Once, Ladybug had actually painted Chloe’s nails, as if that hadn’t given her a minor heart attack. Sometime during the evening, if she’d been on patrol or dealing with akumas, or if it had just been a bad day and she’d stayed out too long, Ladybug would take the plate of cookies and head for Chloe’s bathroom, emerging several minutes after she’d gone in. Neither girl verbalized how much trust was in that action, but Chloe knew it down to her bones and she sure as hell wasn’t going to make Ladybug regret it.

She looked down at her watch. 8:59. Any moment now… Her head shot up at the loud noise from her balcony. What the? Ladybug burst into the room like a dervish, panting and shaking. She ran for the hallway and as she passed Chloe, her panicked eyes locked with the blonde’s.

“I’m not here. If he asks, I’m not here. Please, Chloe.”

Shocked, Chloe nodded and Ladybug darted inside Chloe’s bedroom and shut the door.

Warily, Chloe walked over to the open balcony doors and looked outside. What was going on?

Tag list:

@demydreamer-otaku-and-book-lover  @anastasian-dreamer  @donegonewrong  @twinkletoes-rp  @asandygraves @fatimaabbasrizvi 

[eddiesasspbrak]

When I’m With You Ch. 2

Eddie can’t stand the barista at his favorite coffee shop. Richie has fallen in love with the man he sees twice a week. Stan is dating someone but won’t let his friends meet them. Ben is in love with Beverly, but is so afraid of scaring her away he’s not moving forward. Chaotic friends navigating college together.

Ch.1

Ch.3

Read on AO3

Less than 2k words

It was Saturday, Eddie didn’t have to do anything. When he woke on the couch, his neck hurting from the insufficient head support, he was glad to see his streak of no hangover was still going strong. Still, he felt off. A little sick to his stomach, but not from the drinking. It was that emotional kind of ache that came with anxiety usually. He wasn’t sure what was causing it and it was really quite annoying when it hit out of nowhere.

He sat up, rolling his neck and allowing it to pop and stretch. He’d slept in his clothes and that always made him feel too warm and gross. The first thing he needed was a shower and then he should probably eat something, even though his stomach protested at the thought. He turned the shower on and looked at the way his hair was sticking up in the mirror. He looked tired. He was tired. Sleeping on the couch wasn’t exactly restful.

Stripping off his clothes, he stepped under the warm spray of water. The events of the night before were coming back slowly as the groggy remnants of sleep faded away. He remembered Bev showing up with Richie and being stuck talking to him all night. He remembered Ben and Bev leaving them there alone without telling him they were going to go. He remembered Richie inviting him for pie and then leaving in a hurry when he got a text. The sad and disappointed look he tried to hide behind a smile crept back into his mind and his stomach churned with that heavy anxiety feeling again.

He tried to shake all thoughts from his head as he focused on getting clean instead. Feeling fresher than he had before, dressed in clean clothes, hair drying, he went to this kitchen to see if he could find anything he could stomach at the moment. In one of the cabinets he found a sleeve of crackers and took them back to the living room with him. He switched the TV on, ignoring the cooking show that was on as he checked his phone for the first time since waking up.

Ben: I’m so, so, so sorry. Beverly said she wanted to go somewhere alone and wouldn’t let me tell you first.

Eddie rolled his eyes as he read the text. He wasn’t actually mad at him and didn’t really expect an apology. But Ben was probably sitting there worried that he was angry. He was always like this. He’d spent his childhood before moving to town without friends. They’d met in middle school and found they liked some of the same things. Eddie didn’t really have friends either, so they found comfort in being with another outcast. However, Ben was always worried he’d do something wrong and lose him. Even in high school when their friend group grew to include Stan, even when all three got into the same college and ventured outside of their small town for the first time together.

Stan and Ben lived on campus, but Eddie’s mom had helped him get his apartment. He’d started out in the dorms, but he couldn’t stand living with a roommate who didn’t keep clean and his roommate was constantly complaining about him being anal about cleanliness. He also didn’t cope well with the communal showers. In the end, it was just better for him to live on his own off campus. He’d thought about finding a three bedroom with Stan and Ben, but for the time being, they were enjoying living on campus. It was fine. Eddie didn’t mind living alone.

He munched on some crackers while he typed out a response to Ben.

Eddie: It’s fine. I left right after you. That was pretty much the plan anyway

Ben: You’re not mad?

Eddie: No. How did it go?

Ben: Can I come over?

Eddie: That bad?

Ben: No. I just want to talk about it in person.

Eddie: Yea. I’m home

Ben: Twenty minutes

He hadn’t really expected to have company but spending a few hours with Ben wasn’t a terrible way to spend his Saturday. He could probably guilt him into buying him lunch to pay him back for the bar tab. Eddie went to put his phone down when another text came through, this one from Stanley.

Stan: Did you guys go out without me last night?

Eddie: Every time we ask you out you say you’ve got a date

Stan: So…you did

Eddie: If I had texted and asked you to come out what would your answer have been?

Stan: …that’s not the point

Eddie: omg ok I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to hang out Stan. I promise that next time I will ask you to come so you can turn me down properly instead of bringing this mystery person for your BEST FRIENDS to finally meet.

Stan: You will meet them eventually. I’m just not ready.

Eddie: It’s been three months.

Stan: Excuse me but I’m supposed to be mad at you. You can’t just turn things around on me like this

Eddie: Ben is coming over now. Do you want to come too? He’s going to regale us with the fascinating events with Bev from last night

Stan: …I can’t

Eddie: Oh my God

Stan: Next time?

Eddie sent back an emoji of hand flipping him off and dropped his phone down on the couch. He half focused on the cooking competition show while he ate almost the entire sleeve of crackers and waited for Ben. He was starting to feel better, more relaxed after texting with his friends. They both knew that he struggled with a panic disorder and were often the ones to help calm him when things got bad. Over the years they’d learned what they needed to do for him. Just being with him, occasionally hugging him or just placing a hand on his arm to keep him grounded. He really did love them.

He figured Ben was texting to let him know he’d arrived when his phone chimed about fifteen minutes later. He unlocked the screen and stared down at the number the text had been sent from. It was local, but not one he had saved or recognized. He opened the message warily, figuring it was probably a spam message from some store that had his information. Instead of a special offer or a sale announcement, he was met with the picture of a slice of pie.

?: thinking of you

Eddie: Who is this?

?: really? The pie didn’t tip you off?

Eddie: Um…

?: it’s Richie

It clicked for him a second later, having been working hard to forget about any of their interactions from the night before. Of course, he’d asked him to go get pie with him before he’d disappeared. The only question remaining was how he’d gotten his number. He for sure didn’t remember giving it to him and he didn’t want him to have it. He would never know peace if Richie was able to text him.

Eddie: Why do you have my number?

Richie: Bev gave it to me

Eddie: Why?

Richie: I asked her

Eddie: Why?

Richie: I wanted it

Eddie: Why?

Richie: did you give your phone to a 5yo?

Eddie: I’m just trying to understand why you would want to have the ability to contact me

Richie: you’re not very social, are you?

Eddie: No. I’m not.

Richie: we’ll have to work on that Eds

Eddie: Don’t call me that

A text came through from Ben, letting him know he was downstairs. Eddie set his phone aside, ignoring the new texts from Richie and going to the intercom. He pushed the button that would allow Ben to enter and unlocked his front door. He went back to the couch and a minute later Ben was letting himself in. At first glance, he didn’t look upset. Things must have gone well.

“So?” Eddie said, expectantly.

“I kissed her.” Ben blurted out, going tense.

“What? Really?” Eddie was really interested now.

“We left the bar and we were just walking. It was cold but it was like, I couldn’t even tell or something. I just wanted to keep walking forever if it meant that I could have her by my side.”

“Ok, enough of the poetic shit. Tell me what happened.”

“We stopped to get coffee at this place that was still open, and we were sitting and talking and…”

“And?”

“She’s just so pretty. I was staring at her and she started laughing at me, so I thought I screwed up. Then she just leaned across the table and kissed me.”

“Like, on the mouth?”

“Yep.”

“I told you she liked you.” Eddie couldn’t help the ‘I told you so’ as he had been telling Ben for months that Bev was into him. He was so sure that she wouldn’t be into him that he doubted every move he made around her.

Ben finally left the door and joined Eddie on the couch. He looked like he was in disbelief, like maybe he was thinking that he’d dreamt it all.

“So, are you guys dating then?” Eddie asked, pulling his legs up underneath him.

“I think so. She said I was cute and then we held hands while I walked her home and we kissed again before I left.”

“Did you ask her out again?”

“No. But she said her birthday is on Thursday and she wants both of us to come.”

“Is it a party?”

“She said drinking and laser tag.”

That didn’t sound terrible to Eddie. He liked Bev. Considered her a friend. He would like to celebrate her birthday with her. He’d never been to play laser tag, so he wasn’t sure he’d be any good. Still, he didn’t have any classes on Friday so a fun night out on Thursday didn’t sound bad.

“Should be fun. And, hey, she wants to see you again after kissing you. That’s a good sign, right?” Eddie asked, patting Ben on the shoulder.

“I guess. Do I kiss her when I see her? When I shop for a birthday gift, should I shop like I’m buying for a girlfriend? Or a friend?”

“You need to calm the fuck down, man. When you see her, if she wants to kiss you, she will let you know. This is Beverly we’re talking about. As for a gift, just buy her something you know she’ll like. I’ll go with you to find something.”

“Really?”

“Yea, of course.”

Ben wrapped his arms around Eddie and pulled him into a crushing hug. “I love you.”

“I know.” Eddie patted his back and laughed. “I love you too.”

Ben ended up staying the rest of the afternoon. They spent the day watching movies and playing games together. It had been a long time since they last did this, just enjoying each other’s company. They ordered dinner, Ben paid, and ate in front of the TV. Eddie told him about how he knew Richie and how Bev had given him his phone number without asking him first. Now he had him saved as a contact in his phone and he hated it.

When night fell, Ben chose to stay the night instead of heading back to his dorm. Tomorrow was Sunday and he didn’t have to be anywhere. They shared Eddie’s bed and the next morning they went out for a late breakfast of pancakes and coffee at a diner. Eddie absently remembered Richie’s comment about cheating on him with someone else’s coffee and rolled his eyes, drinking every drop and asking for a refill.

[nerdy-bookworm-1998]

The Arranged Marriage part 9 Aftermath

Pairing: (Royal AU) Prince!Steve Rogers x Princess!Reader Words: 1151 Warnings: Implied smut A/N: If you wish to be tagged in future works feel free to send me an ask. Please leave feedback/reblogs. Feel free to check out my Ko-Fi and Patreon accounts, I’m running a promo on Patreon for the first 20 subscribers. Links are available in my bio.

The aftermath of the battle was chaotic, to say the least. Many of our allies were dead or wounded. Bucky had injured his left arm badly. Thor had suffered a cut to his right eye. Tony had suffered a harsh blow to his chest.

Even though there was much loss to grieve, there were also countless feasts across the lands to celebrate our victory. Once we returned to the capital we were greeted by our parents with open arms and joyous smiles.

"We are so glad that you are safe and sound. We were so worried about you!" Sarah exclaims as she embraces us tightly.

"Yes indeed. We have hardly slept since you left. But now that you have returned, there is something we wish to discuss with both of you," George adds seriously.

"Is everything alright?" Steve asks, concern evident in his voice.

"Everything is perfect. Your mother and I have decided that it is time for us to retire. This whole war situation has made us realize that we are really getting too old for this. We will still live in the palace grounds, but we will be in the manor by the lake while you and your lovely wife will stay in the palace," George explains.

"It is time for a new king and queen to take over. And who better than the crown prince and princess Y/N, the Titan Slayer?" Sarah adds, making heat flood my cheeks at the new moniker the people had bestowed upon me after learning the events of the battle. "So? What do you think?" Sarah asks.

Steve and I share a look before turning back to the older couple. "We would be honored," I smile brightly as I lace my fingers with Steve's, giving them a soft squeeze.

The months that followed were some of the busiest in memory. There was much rebuilding to be done after Thanos' army destroyed so many towns and cities. Then there was moving all my belongings and those of the staff accompanying us on our journey to our new home. There were still small cells devoted to Thanos, but they were dealt with as swiftly as they popped up. Before I knew it nearly three months had passed since vanquishing our enemy, life could not be sweeter. Yet I could not help but feel like there was something missing...

On an afternoon stroll through the gardens with Nat and Wanda at my side, I confide this feeling to them.

"Have you talked to Steve about it?" Wanda asks.

"No, you know how he is. He would try to lay all the blame on himself, and that is the last thing I want him to do," I sigh heavily as I feel the beginnings of a headache creep up.

"Pin him to the bed and keep him there until he has no doubt that he is not to blame," Nat suggests which makes Wanda blush scarlet with a hissed "Nat!"

Suddenly a lightbulb has gone off in my head. I turn quickly to my two best friends. "Nat might actually have a point. If you ladies will excuse me, I must go see my husband urgently." And with that, I'm hurrying off into the palace. I search through all the most likely rooms with no luck. Just as I'm about to give up hope I see Bucky walking further up the corridor.

"Bucky!" I call out causing the man in question to turn around and wait for me to catch up to him. "Do you know where Steve is?" I ask, slightly breathless from all the running.

"He's in your chambers, is everything alright?" Bucky asks, worry coloring his tone.

"Everything's great, thank you!" and with that, I'm sprinting off again in the direction of our chambers. Once I reach the door I take a moment to breathe and calm my nerves before slowly entering the room. Our chambers are large with dark wooden flooring, a few tapestries depicting hunts and battle victories, a door on the far side that leads to the bathing chamber, large oak desks and bookshelves are pushed against the wall with the battle map table next to the window, and on a raised platform in the middle of the room and surrounded by heavy dark blue curtains in the largest and most comfortable bed I have ever slept in with feathered pillows and countless warm fur blankets and a large, blazing fireplace opposite it to keep the room warm.

Steve is bent over some documents on his desk when I enter. His brows are furrowed and he is deep in thought. For a moment I consider abandoning my plan and rather going to sit by the fire with a book. But that plan is flung from the window as soon as he looks up and smiles widely when he sees me. "Hello my darling, I was just wondering where you were," Steve says as he rises from his chair and walks across the room to wrap me in a loving embrace.

Even though I return it he can still feel the tensed way that I hold myself. He pulls back enough to see my face. "What's wrong sweetheart? What troubles that beautiful mind of yours?" he asks softly as he leads me closer to the warmth of the fire.

"I know that you love me, just as I love you. But... what you said that evening before we went into battle, about wanting to start a family once the war was over, was that all just talk?" my voice comes out softer and more hesitant than I would have liked.

"Of course I want to start a family with you sweetheart! Why would you think anything else?" Steve sounds perplexed, his brows furrowing as he tries to coax my chin up to meet his stare. "Wait..." he says softly as if a thought had just dawned on him. "I'm such an idiot! Sweetheart, listen, the reason why I haven't touched you in that way is that I didn't want to rush into something that you might not be ready for. I never meant to hurt you." He cups my face between his warm hands, his eyes begging me to understand.

"I know you didn't sweetheart, it's okay. But, I really do want to start a family with you," I reassure him as I bring my hands up to caress his wrists and turn my face to kiss his palm.

Without warning he sweeps me up into his arms, carrying me towards the curtained platform. "Steve! What on earth are you doing?!" I squeak out through the giggles pealing from my mouth.

"Showing my wife just how much I love her," Steve says just before my back hits the mattress. The look in his eyes tells me that we wouldn't be leaving any time soon if he had anything to say about it.

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[queenshelby]

Time for Change – Part Seven

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,290

Warning: Pregnancy, Infertility

Notes: Not based on Cillian’s life. This is fiction guys! Also, the next few parts will be short but frequent!

Exactly two weeks ago, Cillian ended his relationship with Danielle and told her that he would be moving out and was filing for divorce.

Whilst you and Danielle weren’t exactly close, she asked you whether you would be able to help with the children while she was working through some things like schooling.

You knew that the separation certainly took a toll on them all and, without hesitation, agreed to her request. You thought that, after what you did, this was the least you could do for her.

But, despite your best efforts, Danielle didn’t make things easy for Cillian, threatening him and manipulating the children which was something you despised.

This, however, didn’t change the fact that, unbeknownst to Danielle, you spoke to Cillian daily and, whilst he clearly struggled with not seeing his children as often as he would have liked, he felt as though he was in better place now that he was staying on his own.

You and Cillian still saw each other, once or twice per week while each of you worked through your separations. Yet, neither of you were willing or prepared to start something new and you certainly didn’t want James or Danielle to find out about your secret relationship.  If they did, you knew that things would become much more difficult for you and your children.

***

It was Thursday evening when you called into Danielle’s house to drop off some forms the school had issued for the upcoming excursion.

When you arrived at Danielle’s house, she offered you some wine and dinner and, after a bit of convincing, you agreed to stay for an hour.

‘Where are the kids?’ you asked when you sat down at the kitchen table and Danielle poured you a glass of wine.

‘Staying with Cillian until Monday’ she said, which made you smile.

‘I am glad you are letting him see them Danielle’ you said just as Danielle plated up some lasagne for you which had come straight from the oven.

‘Are you still feeling sick?’ Danielle asked, noticing how pale you looked and going by the fact that you only just picked on the piece of lasagne she had offered you.

‘Yes, but I am going to see my doctor on Friday to get it checked out’ you said, pushing the plate aside and excusing yourself once again in order to use the lavatory.

‘I am curious Y/N…did you take a pregnancy test?’ Danielle then asked when you returned to the kitchen, causing you to laugh before taking another sip from your glass of wine.

‘You know I can’t have children Danielle, that’s why we adopted Chloe’ you reminded her.

‘Well, I’ve heard of stranger things happening before. There is no harm in taking a test now then, is there?’ Danielle laughed and you realised that she clearly had been drinking too much already.

She told you to wait there while she went into the bathroom and, before you knew it, she returned with a whole box of pregnancy tests.

‘Well, now I am curious as to why you have pregnancy tests in your house’ you laughed while filling up your wine glass.

‘Don’t mention this to anyone but, about a year ago, I went off the pill, thinking that I might be able to conceive again’ she explained and your eyes widened immediately.

‘Please tell me that Cillian knew about this’ you then said somewhat concerned and Danielle shook her head with some embarrassment.

‘No and I know I did the wrong thing Y/N, so please don’t judge me’ Danielle said before explaining to you that, obviously, it never happened and telling you that Cillian and her didn’t have sex for over six months and that she was sure that he had been seeing someone else for the past month or two.

‘But none of this matters now that he has left me, probably for some young slut’ Danielle huffed out, failing to acknowledge all of the marital problems they were having over the past two years.

‘Danielle, you both need to take responsibility for the separation. I know you’ve been having problems for over two years’ you said calmly and Danielle nodded and, after you both talked about your failed marriages for a little longer, she insisted that you take the test.

‘Fine, I will pee on the damn stick’ you huffed out eventually, grabbing it off her and disappearing into the bathroom.

***

When you reached the bathroom, you unwrapped the test before placing it onto the vanity and getting comfortable on the toilet.

You couldn’t believe that you were actually doing this, taking a pregnancy test after you had been told that you wouldn’t be able to conceive naturally many years ago by a doctor in America.

Doing what had to be done, you peed on the stick and, when you were done, you dried it off with some toilet paper and washed your hands before carrying it back into the kitchen where Danielle was waiting for you.

Without looking at it, you handed it to Danielle.

‘Happy now?’ you laughed before reaching for your glass of wine but, just as your hand took hold of the glass, Danielle pulled it away from you.

‘Uh Y/N, no more of this for you for a while’ she grinned with excitement.

‘Why?’ you asked somewhat confused and, just when you did, she turned around the test and showed it to you.

‘You are pregnant!’ she then said and your chin dropped.

In this moment, you didn’t know whether to scream, laugh or cry. This could not be happening, you thought.

‘This test must be fucking wrong. I can’t be pregnant’ you said anxiously before disappearing in the bathroom again with another pregnancy test from the box which Danielle had left on the kitchen table.

To your surprise, this test also returned a positive result and you immediately began to crumble.

‘So, perhaps you and James can work things out then huh?’ Danielle asked and you shook your head before beginning to cry.

‘I can’t…fuck. What the fuck have I done?’ you shouted and cried, tears tumbling down your face.

‘Oh my god Y/N, it’s not James’s baby, is it?’ Danielle then asked and you shook your head.

Of course, it wasn’t his baby. You hadn’t had sex with James for a very long time and, in order for it to be his, you would be well and truly showing by now.

‘Who is the father then?’ Danielle then asked.

‘Just someone I met a little while ago’ you then said knowing that you really couldn’t tell her that you had slept with her husband and that the child was his.

‘I just don’t know how this could have happened Danielle? I was told that I cannot conceive naturally’ you explained.

‘Perhaps it wasn’t you who was at fault. Maybe it was James? Did they ever test his sperm or did they just assume you were the one with the problem following your accident?’ Danielle asked and, as soon as she did, you realised that the child James supposingly had with his secretary probably wasn’t his either.

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[su8arandspite]

For Old Time’s Sake

Summary: It’s 1995 in Hawkins. When Heather Johnson returns home for the Hawkins High School reunion, she comes face to face with an old lover. Or, alternatively, the one where Steve falls in love with Heather all over again.

Steve Harrington x oc

Warnings: 18+, mature content, smut

Tags: @casaharrington

The town of Hawkins kept its secrets well. From the outside, and to every kid who made a run for it after high school, not much about the town changed. Small town stillness washed over the buildings and suburban homes that Heather Johnson passed on the drive home to her parents’ place. If not for the empty lot where the Dairy Queen had been and the newly painted houses, Hawkins could have been a time machine to 1985.

She parked curbside outside of her childhood home. Through the trees, just past the Harrington home, she could vaguely make out the ruins of what was once Hawkins Lab. Even abandoned, it brought bile to her throat. When Heather left Hawkins, danger eschewed the rosy lens of childhood she knew it under. Time blurred and muddied her memories, but fleeting images of a boy with a baseball bat comforted her; whatever it was, they defeated it together.

Heather yanked the keys from the ignition. She didn’t come back to dig up old nightmares. Steadying her breath, she hauled her suitcase from the hatch of her car into her old home. Whatever she saw ten years ago in that shadowy building couldn’t hurt her now.

She retired to her bedroom that night with a head swimming in unsaid words and forgotten dreams she bottled up and left here in Hawkins. Traveling through the hallways of her parents’ house brewed an unwelcome, lonely sense of dejavú that could swallow Heather whole.

The door closed softly behind her. Heather looked to the window next door, partially out of habit, partially wrapped up in foolish hope, but instead found the curtains drawn. She longed for the secret notes passed through window panes on late nights and the stolen kisses as he stumbled into her bedroom. That was- they were- long gone now.

Now, standing alone in her girlish lilac bedroom, she felt like a stranger in her own life. The knick-knacks, trophies, polaroids, and photo booth strips belonged to someone else entirely. She thumbed over the picture frame sitting proudly on her nightstand, swiping the dust away from the picture-perfect memory of two smitten teens. Her mother must have retrieved it from the floor and replaced it sometime after she left. The crack down the center obscured her face, but she cared more about the way Steve looked at her. Just as she let herself want, her finger caught on the crack and blood sullied the cheap frame. Cursing, she cushioned the wound between her lips to dull the bleeding.

Heather Johnson blossomed into her own person through the past decade; she had a place to call her own, a job she felt passionately for, everything she once doubted she could earn without her Daddy’s help. Something about Hawkins, though, made that woman shrink slowly back into the scared girl who ran away from it.

High school for Heather looked picture perfect. In some ways, it had been, yet a part of her always felt sandwiched into the tiny pond that Hawkins was and desperate to swim upstream into the outside world. For someone with as many friends and as surrounded by people as Heather the Cheerleader had been, she never felt more lonely. Her friends’ parents worked boring desk jobs that required no traveling and most of them had one boyfriend or another to waste their time with. She kissed as many boys as she could just trying to make up for the loneliness she felt in her parents’ absence; it always found its way back. Until Steve.

Steve Harrington lived next door. He talked too much, slept around quite a bit, and had a poor taste in friends. Heather might nod along and listen as Laurie or Becky rambled off reasons why he could not be trusted, but she never cared to listen. She liked to think she knew Steve perfectly well.

The first time Heather met Steve, she might have agreed with what her friends thought of him. They knew each other only through summer block parties and whatever other events their parents dragged them to until 1982. That summer leading up to sophomore year changed a lot for Heather; her body filled out and her Dad started leaving home more. She took up a job lifeguarding at the community pool and returned to school in August sunkissed, slightly curvy, and in need of a little trouble. Steve, who received a shiny new BMW for his sixteenth birthday, looked exactly like the kind of trouble she wanted.

She had him completely, utterly wrapped around her finger by the end of September. Heather and Steve soiled every inch of that car as summer came to autumn. She only meant to distract herself, but her desire for fire and trouble died down into an ache for the boy next door. Heather let herself love him wholly. Steve became her future; he tamed her rebellious spirit into a lovestruck girl who wanted only for him to stay with her forever.

Forever, for Heather and Steve, instead became the beginning of junior year. He stomped on her heart and spit it right back at her. As Heather pulled back to lick her wounds, Steve zeroed in on his next prey. Nancy Wheeler stood for everything Heather could never be. Girls like Nancy didn’t just offer up their virginities to the first boy who called them pretty or invent their own hangover cures out of necessity. Heather hated the thought of Steve with someone like that, because she could never be half as good. Good girls like Nancy shone like blank canvases void of any tarnish and squeaky-clean enough to bring home to Mom; Heather the Whore and her Father-sized baggage could never compete with a girl like that.

Even now, the sight of that swimming pool nauseated her. Mr. Harrington had it drained years ago, but she only saw the very end of Barbara Holland’s life, the thing that took her, and the boy she still loved already falling for Nancy Wheeler, all right outside her bedroom window. Heather yanked her curtains shut. The demogorgon might be unreachable now, but nothing so far healed her battered little heart.

---

“Joey, you little shit! Let go of your sister’s hair”

Heather clung to the kitchen island, watching as the red-headed toddlers tornadoed across the living room. Carol stormed out of the bedroom sporting only one shoe and looking more grown up than Heather ever imagined she would be. Tommy and Carol’s wedding unsurprisingly predated the prompt birth of their first child by mere months. Between the two nightmares currently messing up their house and the heavily pregnant bump in her purple gown, Carol looked about one temper tantrum away from a spectacular breakdown of her own.

However exhausted parenthood and married life looked to someone like Heather, that new sheen in Carol’s eyes and the bizarrely adult change in Tommy’s demeanor suggested otherwise. The life of a Hawkins housewife, with all its cliquey glory and PTA snobs, suited Carol’s catty nature and, to everyone’s surprise, fatherhood had calmed Tommy’s recklessness. Heather took one look at their messy, chaotic, love-filled life, and her confidence crumbled. Her life in New York outpaced anything Hawkins could offer her, but she couldn’t pretend that she had once not wanted anymore more than this life with Steve.

“For fuck’s sake Tommy, would you hurry up?”

Carol herded her husband towards the door, cursing under her breath at his inability to correctly tie a necktie. If not for the wedding rings and Carol’s baby bump, Heather might have mistaken the scene for a recreation of their senior prom night.

Heather piled into the backseat of Carol’s mini-van. Tommy stuck his head out of the driver’s seat as they sped off to Hawkins High, screaming:

“Class of ‘85, motherfuckers!”

Carol yanked him back into the car by the collar. She added a swift smack to the head for good measure. Heather smiled to herself; at least some things never did change.

As the burgundy minivan pulled into the spot once reserved for Heather’s Jeep, she saw her life from the outside. Without the safety of her green and white cheerleading outfit, Hawkins High School looked a whole lot less impressive than back in the day.

Tommy and Carol dispersed into the crowd not long after their arrival, while Heather gravitated towards the open bar. She greeted passersby who recognized her and watched the crowd swell. She stirred her drink absently and watched the night unfold around her.

Old cheer squad members earned careers in fashion or television or teaching. Her third grade best friend married her ninth grade lab partner. Old Hawkins friends gathered like nothing ever changed, but Heather felt acutely aware that everything had.

Meanwhile, Steve tore himself away from a conversation with a few classmates he only vaguely remembered. He stopped a few feet away from her, as if unsure whether or not to proceed.

Time dealt Steve Harrington the short hand. He stayed in Hawkins, he told himself, not out of fear but just to keep an eye on things for a while. Jim Hopper promised to call if any more monsters popped up. No need, he said. I think I’ll stick around a while longer. First, Nancy and Jonathan Byers, even Billy Hargrove, graduated and took the fast track out of town. By the time Dustin and Lucas and Mike and the rest of the rugrats set off to college, Steve was fresh out of excuses.

Hopper took a quick visit down to the record store where Steve took up a job to pay his bills. He leaned down over the counter Steve worked behind and lowered his voice:

“What the hell are you still doing here, kid? We both know you don’t belong in this shithole.”

“Yeah,” he deadpanned. “You’re probably right”

Hopper, more a father to Steve than his own ever was, refused to let him give up like this. Where Steve saw in himself the self-righteous asshole who vandalized the town movie theater, Hopper saw the young man who readily put his own life on the line to save those kids.

“Look, I don’t really care what you do,” he lied. “Just quit feeling sorry for yourself and do something with your life.”

The next morning, Hopper arrived at the station to find Steve Harrington sitting with his tail between his legs in the chair facing his desk. By that time the next year, he was the latest member of the Hawkins PD. And a damn good one at that, he might add.

For the first time in his life, Steve had everything he could want. Everything, that is, except someone to share it with.

His heart skittered as he worked up the courage to get Heather alone. He’d heard that she came alone and wanted little more than to catch her attention. Things ended so badly between them- his fault, really- that he hardly imagined she wanted to see him again. So, with the same sense of humility as that fateful morning in Chief Hopper’s office, he tapped her shoulder:

“Save me a dance? For old time’s sake.”

Gooseflesh rippled her bare arms; she would recognize that voice anywhere. Heather set her cocktail glass on the bar, turning her head towards him. He looked the spitting image of the nervous boy who first asked to take her out to the movies. Hands scrunched in his suit pockets, and sporting the very same crooked smile she remembered, Steve Harrington stood before her.

Heather’s powder blue dress blended well with her skin tone in the dim gym lighting and her dark hair popped against the fabric. His heart swelled at the sight of her standing in the very same gym they shared their first kiss in. Steve wondered how he ever let a girl like that slip through his fingers.

“Okay,” she said. “For old time’s sake”

He led her by the hand to the makeshift dance floor, feeling for the first time in ages the sweaty anticipation of a lovestruck school boy. Her rosy cheeks swelled with a smile in tandem with her shaky hands as they locked between the ducktail of hair at the nape of his neck. His hands resting easily on her hips, they danced.

“Y’know,” he chuckled. “I really didn’t expect to see you again. I’m glad I did”

The way he looked at her, even after all these years, sent Heather to the verge of tears; no one had looked at her like since she was a teenager. Since she and Steve were in love.

“Yeah,” her voice came out soft and small. “Me, too.”

They’d come full circle. Although life led them in different directions, and took Heather and Steve to the wrong people in their journey to find the love they first had in each other, it seemed their story looped back to that dingy old gym. Steve knew the second he saw her that tonight would be a whole lot more than reminiscing with a lost lover. Even if Heather didn’t know that, yet, Steve didn’t mind waiting.

Steve would wait forever for her if it only meant that he could see that smile one last time. The way her brown eyes sparkled in the dim lighting, the way her hips filled out the fabric of her gown, the way her delicate touch ghosted over him as they danced; Heather was filled with reminders of the way he once loved her. The way Steve still loved her.

Heather cupped his cheek, stroking it with her thumb and watching after him with a melancholy smile.

“I am so proud of you,” she whispered.

Heather clung to her once-lover long past the end of slow songs, the two swaying to synthetic pop tunes. It seemed that each of them darted around fears that, should they let go of each other, they might never get the chance to do so again. Whether she admitted it to herself or not, Heather let herself believe that, maybe, she was always meant to find her way back to him. She felt not like an adult but once again like a teenage girl nervously dancing with the prom date of her dreams.

He nuzzled his nose forward against her cheek. His hot breath fanned out against her skin and pulled her in even more. The sweet, mesmerizing scent of Steve’s rosewood cologne, the ghost of spearmint chewing gum, and a hint of musk hypnotized Heather. As he finally kissed her, Heather folded into his touch. The kiss was a decade in the making, the kind featured on movie screens and cheesy discount novels. Every word they were too afraid to speak into existence and all their repressed emotions poured into the kiss.

Reluctantly, he broke off the kiss. Only as the final song of the night faded into its closing note did Heather pull herself away from his warmth. Steve stole a quick kiss to her cheek. They walked slowly towards the edge of the dance floor.

“Here,” he said. Steve draped his sports coat over Heather’s shoulders.

Hair bouncing along with his lopsided grin, Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of Heather and that captivating laugh of hers. Even as she led him away from the dance floor, Steve found himself absorbed in her. Her neatly styled hair fell rebelliously out of place, the heat on her cheeks and perspiration from nerves and the dancing all adding just the right amount of lived-in smudge to her make-up. Heather looked radiant. The words fell out of his loose lips like thoughts so strong that his mouth couldn’t contain them:

“You’re beautiful.”

She slumped into a seat, letting out a breathy laugh. He slid into the empty chair beside her. Although his mind seemed acutely aware that they were running on borrowed time, Steve swore that the night would last forever. Time was edging on despite his best efforts to run backwards against the current; he would never be fifteen again, and their relationship would never be from a clean slate again.

She thanked him quietly. Another stolen kiss followed. The night grew thin around them, their classmates retiring to whatever lives they put on pause for the night's trip down memory lane, but neither could be bothered to tear themselves away. Heather was quiet for some time afterwards, trying to make sense of her emotions. Steve turned to her, forehead pulled in thought:

“We made quite the mess, didn’t we?”

Heather paused, tearing herself away from the fears of yesterday. Her eyes flickered to him. She smiled sadly. All Steve has to do was stay. When it was Heather’s turn to choose Steve, she decided to run instead. It seemed neither of them had the courage to face the very real feelings between them that even time and betrayal couldn’t seem to erase.

“Yeah,” she said eventually. “We sure did.”

He chuckled dryly, rubbing his palms together in thought. The universe seemed to laugh at them, to revel in the tragedy of their bad timing; love itself just wasn’t enough to make them work. His eyes begged Heather to ease his nerves. Steve needed Heather to give him some sign that this was more than just in his head.

“Why is this so hard for us?”

The worry in his tired face looked all too familiar to Heather. A sinking feeling returned to her stomach.

It wasn’t until the summer after graduation that Heather let herself start to forgive Steve for breaking her heart. With the drama and confines of high school now behind them, Heather and Steve vowed to make that summer theirs. A last hurrah of bad decisions with minimal consequences. What they intended to be a string of crashed house parties and getting drunk by the quarry instead was a summer filled with late-night conversations on the hood of Steve’s car. With Heather often teetering between sunburnt and sun-kissed after a shift at the community pool and Steve sticky and burnt out from serving ice cream at Starcourt Mall, they lacked much time or energy to live out the summer they outlined.

Neither of them really minded the extra time to themselves. In fact, Steve soon found himself excited for his shift to end and comforted by the knowledge that Heather was waiting for him in the parking lot, food in hand. By late June, Heather had his order memorized and Billy Hargrove had stopped trying to get her to hang around with him past closing time. That was how they found themselves devouring take out from Dairy Queen, still in their work uniforms, and sitting closer than necessary on the BMW.

She wiped the grease from her fingers with a napkin, laughing. Heather caught a glimpse of Steve in her peripheral vision- dripping with happiness, a shine to his eyes, his Scoops Ahoy sailor hat sagging lowly on his head.

Having Heather back in his life, even if only for brief, stolen moments on the hood of his BMW and late summer nights thick with their past, the future; it patched up the broken parts of his battered heart. She felt like home. It might only be for the summer, but Steve fully intended to hold onto every second with Heather that he could.

“Hey, Steve?”

He looked so eager, so happy to see her. Steve wouldn’t even know what hit him. That summer, he slowly tore down the walls their break-up built against her and she knew from the start that she couldn’t take him with her. The thing about running away from her problems, it seemed, was that Heather had to abandon every good thing in her life right along with the bad. Unfortunately, that included Steve.

She knew she should have told him from the beginning, that she never should have let herself get that close to him again so soon before leaving town. Heather should have told him, and yet she couldn't bring herself to break it to him. Not that Heather hadn’t tried to; she had, many times. It just hurt too much.

His laughter tapered off into an inquisitive hum.

“Do you ever think about leaving Hawkins?”

Maybe it had treated him less than kindly the past year or so, but it was still the only home Steve had ever known. The thought of skipping town never crossed his mind. He decided a long time ago that he would stand his ground and fight until his dying breath if he had to- Steve was braver, more stubborn than Heather that way. Another reason she would tell herself they didn’t work out; Steve Harrington was a fighter but Heather Johnson was a survivor. And sometimes that meant putting herself first.

“No, I can’t say that I have. Why?”

She shrugged, uncharacteristically shy:

“I don’t know,” she balled the napkin up into a makeshift stress ball. “I-I just think maybe I need to get out of this town, Steve. Parts of me can’t seem to shake what I saw, what I did-“

She let Barbara Holland die. Heather watched from her bedroom and did nothing as the thing ate her whole. And when she saw the damn thing again, she hadn’t been strong enough to kill it. She couldn’t save its future victims.

“Hey,” Steve pulled her under his arm. “Don’t say that, okay? You did what you could… We all did. It’s not your fault.”

Tilting her chin upwards with his fingertips, Steve pressed a meaningful kiss to her lips. She leaned into him. His embrace quieted her thoughts enough to mute her worries away. It wasn’t the first kiss they shared that summer, but something hid behind it that made Heather unable to shake him- so much so that she lost her nerve to break the news to him. She left Hawkins the next morning, while Steve dreamt of seeing her again.

The guilt ate at her from the inside out until the town she once loved only suffocated her with living nightmares and her own inadequacies. Deep down, Heather knew that running away from her problems would not solve anything. Still, she craved a change of scenery, an escape from the reminders of what Hawkins truly was under its all-American suburban facade. Hawkins was, quite simply, home to the gates of Hell and Heather didn’t want to stick around and wait for them to crack their way open again.

They had, eventually, done just that; only, Heather wasn’t by Steve’s side that July Fourth when he needed her the most.

Steve stood abruptly, offering her his hand:

“You want to get a drink?”

Nodding, she smiled. The last thing she wanted was to leave Steve’s side. Heather took his hand and followed him through the parking lot. They walked in a comfortable silence. She squeezed his hand in hers.

“Steve?”

The pair paused beside his car. Heather glanced up at him with the guilt of a child caught breaking their parents’ valuables while playing inside the house.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you I was leaving,” she paused. “I should have.”

Steve’s eyes softened. He brushed loose hair from her face, smiling sadly.

“I know you are,” he said. “It’s okay, Heather. That was a long time ago.”

Forgiven or not, Heather still juggled her feelings of guilt and lingering feelings for Steve between stolen glances on the drive home. He may have absolved her, but Heather still needed

to forgive herself first.

“Come on,” Steve opened the passenger door. “How ‘bout that drink?”

---

The pair of them stumbled into Steve’s old bedroom between stolen kisses and wandering hands. Retracing steps from a lifetime ago, they fumbled blindly in the dim lighting, too utterly consumed in each other to care much for the world outside those walls. There was only the electric rush of pure, raw sexual chemistry and unresolved feelings.

Steve pulled back momentarily, lips dripping in unspoken words. Heather shook her head, stroking his cheek sensually with her thumb:

“Not now, Steve,” she shushed him, her waiting kiss soaking up his silent fears.

He pulled her hips flush against his torso, working blindly on her dress zipper. Steve’s rough palms explored every inch of her flesh that he could reach. He pinched purple hickies into the crook of her neck, chasing after her as her head flopped in pleasure. Heather hadn’t let anyone mark her skin that way in years. Steve made her feel young again, like his touch was the Fountain of Youth and she was Ponce de Leon, drinking him in deeply.

Her dress pooled on the floor around her feet as Steve pushed the thin straps from her shoulders. She looked even more mesmerizing than he remembered. Heather grew into her curves; time transformed her from a bewitching teenage beauty to the woman of Steve’s dreams. And he wanted to feel, to taste, every inch of her.

Spreading her legs apart ever so slightly, Steve dropped to his knees before her. He thumbed at her through the meager fabric of her lace panties. Another hickey on her smooth upper thigh. He groaned at the smell of her arousal. His expert mouth latched hungrily onto her core through the fabric.

Heather wriggled in pure, hot pleasure against his magical lips. Her fingers dug into his scalp, pulling on his hair just the way she knew drove him crazy. Steve pushed aside her panties, buried his nose, his lips into her most sensitive nerves. She tasted like heaven to him, the mere sight of her writhing above him an ethereal vision. Her taste dizzied him and Steve coddled her closer to his lips.

Steve loved the chase almost as much as the kill itself. He knew what he was doing, and knew he was damn good at it, too. If Steve had been a wolf in the bedroom as a teenager, then the only thing to stop him now was a silver bullet. And Heather was his full moon.

Her first orgasm hit hard and unexpectedly early, received by Steve’s eager tongue. He pulled her in by the neck for another kiss. The salty taste of her own arousal clinging to his breath intrigued Heather; touching Steve turned all her other experiences into blurry non-memories. Touching Steve felt like coming home after a long day.

The sight of Steve in all his naked glory sent Heather into a tizzy. She licked teasingly along his length, easing her way into giving him the head of his life. As she worked, Heather focused in on the bliss reflected in his face.

“Jesus,” he whined. “I forgot how good you were at that.”

Eager to be inside her, Steve reluctantly pulled her back up to her feet. He backed her up against the bed. Heather melted back against his pillows, a siren waiting for him to fall right into her trap. He kneeled over her figure. Steve kissed her sweetly. One hand thumbed at her clit. In one fluid motion, he pushed inside her.

Steve loved the way she clung to her. Her touch only egged him on. Steve rutted into her deeply. He made love to her with a veracity and dedication that put every other man she’d been with to shame. It was only Steve.

With one final grunt sandwiched by her name, Steve came deep inside of her.

She fell back against his sheets, spent in a fucked-out bliss. Heather felt her life in the city slipping further from her mind the more Steve Harrington and his magnificent cock drew her to a future here.

“Do you remember what you said to me the night Nancy and I broke up?”

Heather hummed in her sleepy daze, nodding:

“Sure, I do.”

“Did you mean it?”

She rolled over on the pillow to face him, fully awake now. Heather blinked through the darkness. Grasping in the dark, she clamped their hands together. From behind his messy hair, Steve looked like a shivering puppy left out in the rain. A soft smile graced her lips. She thought of the last time she saw that look.

“She never loved me.”

Nancy might have been the good girl toying around with Hawkins’ playboy, but instead she tore Steve to shreds and ran for the hills. Now, he wanted someone to sympathize with him. Heather, though, had no room in her life to be anyone’s second choice.

Heather tossed the hat to her candy striper costume on the duvet, sighing. She pawed at the vomit stain on her skirt with a damp towel. Perhaps the only person in town who had missed Steve and Nancy’s fallout, Heather left Tina’s party early to lull a dangerously intoxicated Brittany Matthews home before she ruined anyone else’s costume.

“What? Why are you even here, Steve?”

“I don’t know,” he shrunk down. “This is the first place I thought of.”

Oblivious to his pity party, Heather fussed about. She tried to clean the night’s memory of her drunken, sophomore team mate nearly passed out on Tina’s front porch right off her dress right along with the stain.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Steve?”

“Nancy,” he suddenly fell sheepish. “She never loved me.”

Heather watched after him, incredulous. Her hands gripped at the soiled towel as she bit her tongue. Steve, craving some sort of reaction from her, pressed on:

“I should have known,” he sulked. “I mean…God, when did I become such a fuck-up? This is bullshit. Of course it was. I should have known no one could love me-”

“Oh, fuck you! I did! I loved you so much, Steve. You had to have known that.

“What? Heather-”

“You broke my fucking heart, Steve. I’m not about to pretend that I didn’t see this coming and I’m sure as hell not your shoulder to cry on”

She tossed the soiled washcloth right at his chest. If Steve hadn’t been crying before, he sure was now. Still no movement.

“But-“

“I think you should leave.”

When he made no moves to do so, some part of her snapped right along with the last string of her heart that still reached out for Steve. She plucked the picture frame from her nightstand, their picture, and chucked it towards him, only narrowly missing his head. It landed on the floor under her dresser, as cracked and broken as their relationship, where it stayed until well after Heather graduated and left home.

“Get the fuck out, Steve.”

He faltered a moment, her words hitting him full-force with the one thing he must have known and feared but chose to ignore for the past year. Thick layers of tears caked his cheeks. Steve moved slowly and fluidly back towards the window he snuck in through, hoping all the while that he might uncover some magic words to undo the damage he slung onto her poor heart. He found only silence, and by the time his feet hit the ground, Steve knew he’d really done it this time.

He wanted only to be the carefree fifteen-year-old who got to kiss her in secret moments shared in the backseat of his BMW and late at night in her bedroom, when her parents were asleep. Steve wanted Heather back, but this was too little, too late. She locked the window behind him.

Looking at him now, her heart ached. The stubborn parts of her hadn’t forgiven him for breaking her heart all those years ago. Yet, she mostly just wanted him.

“Yes.”

Steve pressed his lips lightly to her knuckles.

“For what it’s worth, I loved you too.”

Steve leaned over the extra pillows to face her.  

When Steve awoke the next morning, he found himself surprised to see her messy hair splayed out across the pillow beside him, and utterly bewitched by the sight of Heather curling into the sheets as she slept soundly in his bed. He thought, though not for the first time in his life, that he might like to wake each day to the sight.

Later, as he walked her to her car, the idea still bounced around his mind. He grabbed at her hips, using every last drop of cheekiness to woo her away from that car. Steve let Heather go once before and he spent the next ten years regretting it.

“Stay.”

“You know I can’t.”

“What’s keeping you?

She exhaled with a soft laugh. Her home, her friends, her career, all waited for her back in the city. The only thing Hawkins, Indiana had that New York City didn’t was Steve Harrington.

“I’m sorry,” she kissed his lips sweetly. “Goodbye, Steve.”

He stood at the curb, hands balled into his shorts pockets, and watched her drive off until the Honda turned out of sight. Steve smiled after her, sporting the same smile he’d flashed the first time he told her his name, only this time a bitterness hid behind it.

Like Lot’s wife fleeing Sodom, Heather knew better than to turn around, knew his puppy dog eyes would trap her here forever, melt her down into a pillar of salt. And, like Lot’s wife, she did anyways.

She knew she’d see him again, if only in her dreams.

-----

Heather nervously twirled the phone cord around her finger. She stared at the slip of paper and dialed his phone number, her mind stuck over the words. The last time she felt this afraid, Heather lodged an axe into the neck of an interdimensional monster. This time, though, she knew that wouldn’t solve her problems.

“Steve? I need to see you.”

The trek to Indiana did little to calm her nerves. She drove silently, the radio turned down to silence. No matter how many times Heather practiced the speech in her head, it didn’t get any easier.

She stood at his doorstep. Fiddling with her hands, she contemplating blowing him off. Heather felt out of place at his apartment. To her, Steve would always be the boy next door. No matter what happened tonight. She thought of him always as he was then- handsome, full of life, brimming with dreams. Full of love for her.

When he opened the door to let her in, Steve couldn’t dull his smile. He looked almost the same as the boy in her memories. The love hadn’t quite left his eyes yet. It was with the comfort of this thought that she stepped inside.

Steve’s apartment was neat, small, homely. She could see him settling down before the TV with a beer or fussing over his hair in the mirror by the door. The thought made her smile.

He sat down with her on the couch, hands clasping with hers. His bright eyes watched her closely, waiting and ready to accept her back into his life.

“Is everything okay? You sounded upset on the phone.”

“I just- I wanted to talk.”

“Talk?”

He blinked. Steve knew this song and dance and he was tired of trying to keep her here. Tired of letting her toy with his heart.

“I haven’t seen or heard from you in months and you came all this way just to talk?”

Steve told himself he would hear her out, but his emotions got the best of him. He raised his voice in frustration. The abrupt shift in tone caught her off guard. She hadn’t meant to upset him. Heather deflated in her seat, the speech she’d had prepared now stuck in her throat.

“Forget it,” she rose. “I don’t even know why I came here.”

He followed her out onto the sidewalk. Heather walked out of his life too many times for him to let her go again.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know! Home, I guess.”

“Don’t you dare walk away from me again!”

The brunette stopped in her tracks, whirled around to face him. Angry, frustrated tears welled in her eyes. He stood just close enough for her to touch. Close enough for her to feel his heart breaking.

“And why not? We both already know how this ends.”

“I love you so much that it hurts. Why can’t you just admit that you want this, too?”

“That’s not why I came back, Steve.”

“Well, then, what? Is this some kind of a game to you-“

“I’m pregnant.”

His expression blanked. Steve didn’t know the first thing about fatherhood. His own gave him next to nothing to start from; the last thing he wanted was to find himself repeating his father’s shitty parenting style. He liked to think that he had finally shed the damage his absentee parents did to him, and that he had found a way to fill the gap their cold demeanor created where affection should have been in his childhood, but that didn’t stop his fears of repeating the vicious cycle.

Heather looked just as afraid.

“Do you really think we’re ready to be parents?”

“No,” he held her hand tighter in his. “But I know that I’m not my father and we can learn from our parents’ mistakes. You’re my future, Heather”

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course, I do.”

They sat together on his front porch steps. Silence engulfed them for a moment as her earth shattering news settled in. Fear crept back up on Heather the longer he stayed quiet. Did Steve want to raise this child with her? Did he want her? Her questions and insecurities were overwhelming.

She broke into tears. “I’m scared, Steve.”

“Me, too.”

He held her close to his chest as she cried. A few tears slipped from his own eyes. Steve combed his fingers through her hair and whispered comforts into her ear. Suddenly, he saw a future for himself. A modest, comfortable cottage with a nice yard for the kids to play in, maybe a dog too, and Heather standing beside him with all the love in the world in her eyes. It was comforting, warm. He wanted that future, with her.

“Stay here, with me. I love you, Heather, and I want to raise this baby with you, if you’ll have me.”

Sniffling, she turned her chin upwards to face him.

“Okay,” she said. “Yes, I will. I love you, too, Steve.”

As he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, Steve knew that everything would turn out okay. He loved Heather Johnson and that was enough for him.

[crowkingwrites]

Bang Bang!: Guilty (Ch.8)

Pairing: Ramsay Bolton X Reader

Summary: You are now a full-fledged member of the Red Kings. After your first successful mission, Domeric comes with troubling news: they’re being watched and there’s a mole among them. The Red Kings, Ramsay, and You now stand against a new enemy: Stannis Baratheon, a high ranking FBI member out to seek justice who may have his own dark secrets he’s trying to hide.

In this next part of the series, you will be tested, face old enemies, and encounter faces you’d thought you’d never see again. You thought you were safe, but the game has just begun.

Words: 1649 // Ao3 Link // Warnings: None

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]

Here’s where you can buy me a Ko-Fi!

The sun reached its highest point in the day and you were still in bed with Ramsay’s arms wrapped around you. You didn’t dare move. Why would you? You were warm. You were being snuggled. All had been quiet, even Ramsay’s snoring had faded away. Bacon and Eggs slept at the foot of the bed together.

One of them sniffed the air and started to bark at the door. So much for silence. Before you could deal with the noise, Ramsay shot up. His hair stood up in spots. He squinted at the door.

“Who is it? What the fuck do you want?!” Ramsay shouted at the door. He didn’t want to be disturbed either.

“It’s Mance. He’s here,” you heard a very distinct Damon from the other side. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Now? It’s morning!”

“It’s afternoon, Ramsay,” Damon shouted back from the other side. “Check your watch, asshole.” Ramsay huffed and glanced at his watch on his wrist. He groaned loud and got out of bed. Fuck. You had to wake up too.

“Tell him I’ll be down there in ten,” Ramsay told him. “Don’t fucking wake me up again.” He turned towards the bathroom. You heard his piss and shot up yourself. This day wasn’t going to be pleasant by any means.

With both of your fur babies by your side, you faced Mance Rayder first. His scowl deepened when he laid eyes on you. Three other men stood behind him. All of them looked the same with their plaid shirts, jeans, and work boots. Your frown faded away when you remembered you had two pitbulls at your side. Nothing bad was going to happen to you here.

“Good morn—

“Where is he?” Mance asked. “I want to talk to him, not you.” You rolled your eyes and stepped aside. Ramsay tugged at the collar of his leather jacket. He glanced your way and then his full attention went to Mance.

“You have a plan I presume?” Ramsay said. “Or are you here to gawk at her and waste my time?”

“I have a plan,” Mance told him. “And you better start learning manners, boy.” Ramsay rolled his eyes.

“I don’t need manners. I could just end you if I don’t like you,” Ramsay glanced at you again. “Or she could. Your choice.” Silence fell into the room like a large elephant.

“Are we doing this?” said one of Mance’s men.

Ramsay clapped his hands together. “Yes, what’s the plan?”

“No, not with her here,” Mance wagged his finger at you. “I want her to leave.”

“Excuse me?” You responded. “I have a name.”

“I won’t talk until she’s gone,” Mance stood straight. His fists at his sides. Ramsay started to laugh.

“You really are afraid of her aren’t you?” Ramsay’s voice carried across the brewery. “Pathetic.” Silence fell like an elephant once more. As if the two elephants in the room weren’t enough to create another awkward moment. You could hear Damon slurping away on a smoothie.

Mance’s face turned soft. “There’s a group of people who need to come south. Their contact asked me personally to get them here. My problem is, I have a U.S. Marshall breathing down my back. He has manpower. I don’t.”

“You need us to kill him?” Ramsay asked.

“I need you to help me get these people across the border.” Mance urged. “The less death there is, the better.” Ramsay glanced at you and shared the same look. Mance didn’t know how you two dealt with things. His eyes went back to Mance, stepping forward towards him.

“Give me logistics,” Ramsay ordered.

That night, you sat next to Ben at a quiet bar. Old men enjoyed their beers around you. Neon signs lit up the place while ESPN played in the background. You tucked your arm around his.

“What are you doing?” Ben asked.

“We’re pretending we’re a couple, no?” You pointed out. “We have to look like one.” Your fingers curled around his. The sensation became weird. There was a time where you could kiss and flirt all you wanted with other men, but the thought of Ramsay sat in the back of your mind. You’d wondered what he would do if he as here.

“How are you and Ramsay?” Ben asked. His eyes stayed on the door. A bouncer sat idly on his phone, keeping his jacket on for the colder weather outside.

“We’re…I don’t know,” you confessed. “Charlotte and I had a fight about it. She told me about Beth.”

“Fucking Charlotte,” Ben cursed under his breath. “You weren’t supposed to know about her.” You rolled your eyes.

“Think I don’t know that?”

“No, it’s just—ugh,” Ben grunted. His eyes shied away from the door to you. “He wanted things to be different with you.”

“Is there other shit you guys are hiding from me?”

“Yes. No, it’s complicated.”

“Of course it is,” you said. You let go of Ben and sat back in the booth you two occupied. The head on the pint you were drinking shrank down to size. “Why is it so hard to trust him?”

“Because he’s not trustworthy,” Ben confirmed for you. “You’re not Beth. The last thing Ramsay wants is you dead or hurt, ok?”

You shook your head, staring off at one of the televisions. Your eyes almost lost in the football game. “This is exactly why I can’t tell him.”

“What do you mean? Are you okay?” Ben’s eyes shifted back to the door and then to you again. His hand found your back. The comforting touch of a friend was more healing than you remembered.

“I’m still scared. We lost to Petyr. He’s still out there. What if he’s out to get me? What if he’s placed hits on me? I ruined him. I ruined the pretty birds. He gave me a home, a job, and so much more. I give him his legacy in ruins.”

“Whoa hey now,” Ben pushed his dark hair back. “Petyr manipulated you. He didn’t give you a life. He used you.”

“I can’t get him out of my head. Sometimes I can’t sleep at night because I think he’s going to come and kill me.”

Ben’s eyebrows knitted together in concern. His hand rubbed your back continuously. If Ramsay were here, he’d be livid. Having one of his bastards touching you like this was more than he could handle. In your early days as a trainee, Luton and you were teamed up quite often for exercises. Luton had taken to you quickly, and you considered him a fairly good friend. That is, until Luton smacked your ass as a joke.

In seconds, Ramsay tackled Luton to the ground, knife in his hand. He’d become Ramsay’s new toy since then.

“Have you told Ramsay? Have you tried?” Ben asked in more hushed tones. You shook your head. “Ramsay wouldn’t understand. He’s never lived in fear like that. If I told him, he would just roll his eyes at me. I don’t think he cares.”

“Ramsay’s never been afraid of anything. I watched Locke burn Ramsay with a cigarette when we were kids. Straight up told him that he was going to kill him. Ramsay didn’t care then either. He just smiled and told him to fuck off.”

“How old was he?”

“Eleven. His mom had died the year before. His mom’s family passed him around until his grandma finally went to Roose and dropped off all his things. She told Roose that Ramsay was a stain in their family, that nobody wanted him.”

“He just doesn’t care?” You asked.

“Whether if he lives or dies, he’ll still have the same chaotic smile on his face. I fear the day Ramsay faces death,” Ben’s words faded into the air. They sat there with a heavy weight. All of you were assassin and spies. Two occupations that were not known for their long lives. Your head went back to Petyr Baelish and the Birdcage.

What happened to the girls left behind? Were they able to run away from him? Did they stay with him? Did anyone die? You thought of Roz, your best friend in the entire world, and how she died. She did Petyr’s work well, so well that he sent her to her own death. You couldn’t help but remember his hands around your neck. The gun to your head. His filthy words and actions soaked in your head until Ben nudged you.

“Focus,” Ben told you. “I don’t know how bad it is, but I need you here. We’re on a mission, remember? Couple time.” Ben’s fingers curled back around yours. He was right. You were a Red King now. You had power. You had your new skills. You had your friends. Nothing bad was going to happen to you. You held Ben’s hand and watched the door with him.

Both of you were waiting for your target to arrive. Mance Rayder had told Ramsay and his bastards about him. He didn’t directly work for Stannis, but he may as well have. A young man who was almost the same age as you. He had accomplished so much for his status in life. He had made it to the highest clearing of security that Homeland Security could offer. He led Border Security and was the biggest enemy of Mance.

Ben and you were only Phase One. Ramsay and the others were spread out across the sleepy Northern town.

“There,” Ben eyed the door. Both of you watched your target walk through the door. He sat down at the bar where the bartender immediately served him two bottles of an IPA. “It’s him. I can see his pretty brown eyes.”

He took his jacket off, and you saw the attractive young man beneath. His dark curls and perfect chest made you hold your breath.

“Jon Snow,” you said.

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