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cameronspecial · 1 year ago

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Before The Last Petal Falls (Part 1)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Talks about sex and drugs.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Coming home is supposed to be a happy occasion, but it's hard to be happy with your ex-boyfriend lurking around the corner.

A/N: This is a sequel series to Thorn In My Side, Rose in My Hand series.

Masterlist

Going back home is the last thing Y/N wants to do right now. The Outer Banks is full of memories from a heartbreak she does not want to remember. However, she is no match for the force known as Cassie and Marvin, and that is how she finds herself on a plane back to North Carolina. For the past five years, Y/N has done everything in her power to not step foot on the island again and now, it is all for nothing. “Please fasten your seat belts, we are preparing for landing,” the pilot’s voice stirs Y/N from her slumber. She can’t believe this is actually happening right now. The elderly lady beside her smiles at her, “First time going to North Carolina?” “Uh, no. I actually grew up there, in the Outer Banks, but I haven’t been back since I left. It feels a little weird,” she answers honestly.

“Ahh, so you were running from something.”

“Yeah, I was. But it looks like I can’t anymore. I just hope that something isn’t there anymore.”

The plane lands and Y/N gets her bags from the carousel. She waits for Mason in the pick-up area, running towards him when she spots his car. Mason crushes Y/N in a hug, “It’s so good to see you back on American soil. This is long overdue.” Y/N pats his back while returning the hug. “Yeah, yeah. It’s good to be home. Did Lace get Sparky here okay?” Mason picks her suitcase up and packs it into his trunk, “Yep, he’s probably being a little energy ball in our living room as we speak.” They both laugh at the joke and then hop into the car. “So how’s your internship at the architectural firm? Is it different from the one in Toronto?” she asks her brother, bringing her hand to the locket around her neck. Heading back to the Outer Bank is causing her to be anxious and playing with the locket calms her down. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Mason that she still wears the necklace and is playing with it.

“It’s going well. Most buildings that people look into getting built here are a different style than in Toronto. OBX wants beach boxes, while Toronto has a wide range of styles. It’s really fascinating watching how my boss’ designs still match to look different from one another.”

“That’s cool. I like the name beach box. It sounds fun. Like a giant sandbox. And are you enjoying it?”

“Yeah, I really am. Although, I do want to see if I can get an internship in an Asian country afterwards. They have a different style that’s interesting. How is the bookstore coming along?”

“A little stressful right now to be honest. Juggling my book edits and what I need to change or add so that the building is up to code and now being here. It’s all just a little too much. At least, I have a name Bookkeeper. It’s gonna confuse people who actually know what that career is but I think it’s funny.”

“It is a good name. It’s very punny.”

“Ugh, that was so bad.”

———

One of the worst places to be is her childhood bedroom. The countless days they spent cuddling on the bed haunts her. The love they expressed physically all over the room is practically engrained in her brain. She had never been able to feel that way again. She unpacks her clothes into her closet and goes to check on Sparky downstairs. He was left down there because she didn’t want him sitting on her suitcase like he did when she was packing her bags in London. He has gotten bigger and he has a little bit of an attachment issue. He doesn’t like being very far from his Mommy for very long. Y/N’s heart drops to the pit of her stomach when she sees the open front door and bolts out of it in hopes of catching her dog before he gets too far.

She follows his barks like a trail of breadcrumbs to the sidewalk. If her heart wasn’t already giving her problems, it certainly is now. The sight before her is one she never thought she would see again. Rafe Cameron is kneeling down and petting Sparky. Beside him is a beautiful woman in a sundress. Her long black hair cascades down her shoulders and her brown almond-shaped eyes show such warmth behind them. Her makeup is done to absolute perfection. Y/N slowly approaches the trio without hesitation. She doesn’t want to go near Rafe, but seeing as it doesn’t look like Sparky is nowhere near going home, she had to go get him.

“Hey Sparky, long time no see. It’s good to see you again, Bubba. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for ya. You’ve gotten so big,” she hears him greet. As she approaches, she accidentally steps on a stick and the crack alerts the others to her presence. “Hey,” she awkwardly begins. “I’m just here for my dog.” Rafe nods and stands up, moving to wrap his hand around the woman’s waist. “Uh, yeah. I remember a time when he used to be my dog too.” Sensing the tension, his companion introduces herself, “Hi, I’m Blythe Katsumi. I’m Rafe’s fiancée.” Blythe sticks her hand out for Y/N to shake, which she does. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N. Rafe’s- uh…this is Sparky.”

“It’s okay. I know you were his high school girlfriend. He told me about you.”

“Right. And he didn’t tell me about you.”

Rafe rolls his eyes and huffs, “Yeah, well it’s not like we were doing a lot of talking in the last five years. What are you doing here, Y/L/N?”

“You mean besides looking for my dog, in front of my house? The better question is what are you doing here Rafe?”

“I have every right to be here because unlike you, I’ve been coming back home.”

Before Y/N can retort, Blythe stops the conversation from going any further. “Well, it was lovely meeting you, but we need to go. We have to get some stuff ready for the engagement party.” Blythe waves goodbye and takes Rafe’s hand to walk away. This draws Y/N attention to Blythe's left hand with the giant diamond engagement ring. This causes a stabbing feeling to shoot through Y/N’s heart. Her hand shoots up to her locket and she begins to rub it for some comfort. This action doesn’t go unnoticed by Rafe as he catches it from the corner of his eye.

———

Everyone has their own vices. Cheating. Gambling. Alcohol. Lying. Rafe’s is drugs. There was a period of time in his life when weed was not the outlet he turned to when in need of getting out of his own head. That one blissful year he had with her was his escape instead. But after the breakup, weed was the only thing that made him forget about her. Eventually, he became numb to the weed and he needed something stronger, so Barry introduced him to cocaine. Mason didn’t know that Rafe had stepped it up in the drug department because if Mason knew, he would’ve found some way to get Rafe to stop. And Rafe didn’t want to, he needed to escape the feeling of being consumed by her.

Before today, Rafe had managed to go a month without thinking about her at all. It was his highest record in the past five years they had been apart. There was no bookstore he walked by with a girl quite similar to her standing at the window. No hard kombucha in Mason’s fridge to indicate that she had been there. No caramel ice cream at the parlour that she would beg him to buy. It was like the universe was giving him a break from being haunted by Y/N. It seems the universe is done with giving him that gift because as he drives to Barry’s house, he is drowning in thoughts of her. He loved seeing Sparky, of course, but why did she have to come back? He couldn’t get the smell of her hibiscus body wash out of his mind. The sweet but gentle tropical scent she wore contradicted the foggy and rainy place she had moved to. Her hair is held back in a claw clip he used to play with whenever she would leave them around.

And the thing that had really caused him to spiral is her hand still holding the locket he had given her for their first Christmas as a couple. Has she been wearing it for the past five years? Had she worn it while she let other men make her feel good, but nowhere near as good as he can make her feel? Would she wear it when she told them she loved them? But most importantly, how dare she come back to what is now only his island and wear it as if she cared for him? She hasn’t been back in years or talked to him; she doesn’t get to pretend like she’s thought about him. It is driving him crazy and he needed something to stop him from going too deep down this rabbit hole.

Barry hears Rafe’s motorbike and is waiting outside for him. “Well, well, well, look who came back from the dead. Thought you went sober on me for a second there, country club. What can I get you for you?”

“However much you got. I got a feeling that I’m gonna be needing it more often.”

He knew he would need whatever he got his hands on to help him forget about her because if he didn’t then he would remember. And it would probably kill him to remember just how his heart almost leapt out of his chest when he saw Y/N Y/L/N right before his eyes.

———

When they broke up, Mason told both of them that he would not be used as a source to find out more about the other. He said it was for his own sanity in not wanting to be caught in the middle of his sister and best friend, but it was also in hopes that it would cause discourse between the two that would lead to their reunification. So it made sense that Mason would keep an engagement from her. But she still needed more information that she would give Mason no other choice but to give her. “How long have they been together, Mace?” Mason closes his eyes in a silent prayer that he isn’t about to have this painful conversation with his sister. He lifts his head from his laptop and turns towards her, “A year and a month. They’ve known each other for a year and a half.”

“How long have they been engaged?”

“Four months.”

“Did you help him propose?”

“He didn’t ask.”

“How come you didn’t tell me?”

At this, Mason can hear the sadness in his sister’s voice. He knew no matter how much she says she is over Rafe, it isn’t true. It’s why she still wears his locket after all. He knew she needed to know though.

“You know I don’t want to get in between you two. Also, I just didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to tell you something that would hurt you so much. I love you and I want to protect you from that pain.”

“Yeah, I get that. It just would’ve hurt less if it came from you,” she whispers, not knowing what else to ask or add to the conversation. She turns around and goes to her room, where she finds Sparky waiting for her. He gives her a pouty look, asking how come he couldn’t go with his Daddy. She sits down on her bed beside him and places his head on her lap, “I’m sorry, Bubba. But I did what I had to do. Breaking up with him was necessary. I mean I set him free and look at him now, he is getting married.” It hurt. It hurt that he was okay with marrying Blythe before he turned twenty-five. He wanted to speed up his life plan two years earlier just for Blythe. How come he was willing to do that for Blythe but not for Y/N? Was Blythe really that much better than her?

Doing what any other girl would do, Y/N resolves to some internet sleuthing. It wasn’t that hard to find Blythe’s Instagram. She has a public account and Mason is following her. She has an impressive 500K followers; probably because she is the heiress to a popular Japanese hotel chain. All her posts have her makeup done to perfection and her clothes are all designer. One of her saved reels is of her and Rafe partying on New Year's Eve. At least Blythe can keep up with Rafe on that level. Y/N moves her search to Google and finds Blythe’s Wikipedia page. She was born in New York and raised there. She attended UNC for fashion. From multiple tabloid pictures, she can tell that the party scene is one Blythe frequent but she is also a sweet girl. In one picture, she is giving her jacket to a homeless person along with some money when she is returning home from a party. She helps out at soup kitchens and takes children out on shopping sprees. Y/N supposes that Blythe could just be doing it for the media attention, but the look in Blythe’s eyes tells her it isn’t true.

After finding out possibly everything she could find out about Blythe, Y/N turns all of her electronic devices off to stop her from spiralling on social media anymore. She heads over to her bookshelf in need of a bookish escape. Her eyes glance over the different titles until her eyes find one particular book she had not thought about it in a while. She pulls the book off the shelf and opens it up to the title page with the inscription on it. The copy of The Lightning Thief that Rafe had annotated sits before her. She had left it here when she went to university because it felt too hard to bring with her. It held too much meaning. As she sits down on her window sill, she begins to read the book with a special focus on the inscriptions. She reads for hours, allowing herself to feel every bit of emotion that passes through her. God, it hurts to be back home.

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @f4ll-for-you

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 2 years ago

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COMFORT- M. MURDOCK

Pairing: Boyfriend! Matt x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 850

Summary: matt helps comfort you during a panic attack

Warnings: panic attack, anxiety, sensory issues, mentions of getting sick, praise, lots of fluff

Notes: i wrote this while having airport/ airplane anxiety this morning, as i woke up bright n early so i had a lot of time to think. then my flight got cancelled, rebooked, then cancelled again. so im stuck here till tomorrow :) (i want to cry. also airport wifi sucks so bad btw)

He could hear your heartbeat miles away.

Fast.

Thrumming so hard it was as if it was a motor engine, constantly revving but instead of speeding off into the night- it sputtered.

Your breaths were fast. Irregular. Panting raggedly, as if you were a dog.

Hands clutched to your knees, a steady creaking against the old hardwood as you rocked yourself in a ball on the floor.

The two of you left for the airport in less than an hour. Matt had taken care of all the flights, him and Foggy triple-checking everything to make sure everything was booked, purchased and on time. Luggage was packed for your little getaway planned in Central America, zipped up tightly waiting by the door.

But you remained put on the floor, feeling the grooves of your long nails dig into your skin, pinching little crescent moon shapes as your lungs struggled for air.

“Sweetheart?” he called from the doorway, shaking the rain from his coat off as he hung it up to dry.

No response.

Your tongue felt like millions of weights were pulling it down, inflaming it so you were unable to speak. Nothing but dry saliva coated your mouth like a thick paste.

“What's going on love? Can you explain how you’re feeling?”

He knew there was no point asking whether or not you were okay when clearly- you weren't. You were having a panic attack, something that you got very often. Changes in your routine tended to set it off, or things like big crowds or loud noises.

Matt knew your mind was racing with endless possibilities of what could go wrong. You had expressed them to him last week.

What if we miss our flight? Or there is too many people and I’m trapped? Or I feel sick and have nowhere to go? Matthew what if our flight gets cancelled? Or the gates? There's going to be so many people there, all so stressed and non-self aware.

Something was wrong when you called him Matthew instead of Matty. That was always the first indicator he picked up on.

“‘m just anxious.” you whispered softly, voice low and rough as if you had just discovered you could talk for the first time. He softly padded over to a window, opening it just a smidge so fresh air could sneak through the crack, and the sound of the rain pattering against the glass was amplified.

“Can I touch you sweetheart?” he asked politely, crouching down next to you.

You nodded.

Warmth spread through your body as his large arms wrapped around your body, shielding you from the outside world. “Okay. Let's just breathe together okay? Just follow with me.”

He took a deep inhale through his nose, to which you shakily followed. A deep exhale escaped from your lips as you followed the rise and fall of his chest, breathing in his comforting smell as your fingers made there way to twist and tangle in the fabric of his shirt.

“Thats it, atta girl. You're doing such a good job!” he praised, letting you cling to him as you slowed down your breathing- expanding your lungs again.

“We’re going to take this one step at a time okay? It’s going to be okay, I’m never going to leave your side. Security is the scary part. Then we just wait in a quiet part until we get on the plane. And it’s just a two hour flight, and you've done much longer car rides than that.”

“But what if I’m sick?” you asked timidly.

“Then we’ll deal with it when it happens. We’ll scout out all the washrooms and there is one on the plane sweetheart. I’ll hold your hair back I promise.” he joked, making you sniffle as you giggled.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Let’s just get some water into you, and we can get your headphones and fuzzy sweater for you to wear. It’s going to be just fine angel.” he kissed the top of your forehead, stroking your cheeks with his thumb, the callouses on the flesh of his fingertips bringing you a sense of comfort.

You watched through slightly clouded vision as he swiftly went over to pour you some water from the Britta you nagged him to buy, and you heard the pills rattle from the bottle as he dropped a gravol or two in his hand.

“I’m tired.” you murmured. Your thumbs were bleeding, and you felt the sticky blood smear as you tried to stop it.

“I know baby. You can sleep soon. I promise.” he assured, coaxing water down to quell your thirstiness as you swallowed the ginger pill.

“I need my headphones.” you said, attempting to find your balance as you wobbled up to your feet.

“I have them here sweetheart.” he smiled, grabbing them from the luggage- leaving them out for you just in case. Siding them over your head, the world was slightly muffled and you exhaled.

It was quiet. It would be quiet. And you could do this.

“Ready?” he asked. “Ready.”

“Good, cause we have sunshine and margaritas waiting for us.”

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fic #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil fic #daredevil fluff #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil x y/n #charlie cox

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babygirlbenji · 1 year ago

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I Still Love You - Mason Mount

A/N: This is a long-awaited part 2 to Last Train To London which you can read here! I worked really hard on it and I hope it lives up to expectations. Enjoy!

Warnings: mild angst, mild swearing, fluff

WC: 2.8k

When your train pulled into London King’s Cross, Ben was there, as promised, to pick you up with a McDonald’s meal. He took you under his wing, and let you stay at his place for the night.

‘Make yourself comfortable, sweets, and please know you can stay here as long as you need.’ You knew you had an offer from Sophia and Kai to crash at their place until you got back on your feet, but you didn’t want to intrude on their space.

‘I might take you up on that offer, Ben, thank you.’ He showed you around his place, making sure you knew where everything was in case you couldn’t sleep, let you have free rein of the fridge, freezer and cupboards, and even let Oscar the dog stay in your room, which Oscar was more than happy to oblige.

‘I think that’s everything. If you need me, text me, okay? I’m right here.’ You shuffled over to him and wrapped your arms around his torso to give him a hug you’d needed for weeks at that point. He rubbed your back affectionately. He was like a big brother to you, and you were more grateful than you could ever put into words for his support.

You had expected that night to have been sleepless and anxious, but you were simply too exhausted, both mentally and physically, that by the time you changed into your pyjamas, brushed your teeth and climbed into bed, your eyes were drooping already. Oscar jumped onto the bed and turned around a couple of times, making a nice little den in the blanket for him to snuggle up next to you in. You reached out to fiddle with his curly fur. The dog was like a weighted blanket, reassuring you that you were safe and you were okay. Before you knew it, you were fast asleep.

As the days, weeks and months rolled by, you could feel yourself slowly healing. Ben, Reece and the rest of the Chelsea boys, along with Kai and Jorgi over at Arsenal (they were still very much part of the inner circle), stood stoically beside you every step of the way. You had initially distanced yourself from Stamford Bridge for the first couple of months, the memories you had made there with Mason all too painful, but you gradually made your way back into the hallowed halls of the iconic stadium. You attended matches whenever you could, and started to wear CHILWELL 21 shirts to matches.

This had not gone unnoticed by fans. They had quickly cottoned on to the fact that you had gone back to London and Mason was still in Manchester. The gossip websites were in full swing, linking you and Ben together and writing spiteful articles about how you were a gold-digger, how you hopped from one football player to another, how it was your fault that your relationship had ended… You never minded, though. You continued on your healing journey and went about your daily business. You had secured a well-paying job back in London as an events planner in Soho, and had managed to find a nice little studio flat not too far from your office. Ben had insisted he buy you a new car, as you had sold your car up in Manchester to help bring some money in to pay for the flat deposit. Your life was most definitely on the up, and it would take a gigantic storm to blow you off course.

That gigantic storm came about a year after you moved back to London. You had your routine, you were solid in your job and you met up with Ben and the boys regularly.

One such outing in Knightsbridge, Ben pulled you aside to have a chat.

‘What’s up, Benji?’ The nickname you had for him was one only you could use. He hated being called Benji by everyone, but you were basically his little sister. In his eyes, you could get away with murder.

‘Well, um…’ His face told you he had information he would rather not give you, but felt it was his moral obligation to do so anyway.

‘Come on, Ben, out with it!’

‘Declan’s invited me and Mason to his birthday party, and he’s invited you, too.’ His words sent a chill down your spine. You hadn’t spoken to or about Mason in months, although that hadn’t stopped you from thinking about him every day. Thinking about what could have been, thinking about the ‘what ifs’, thinking about what you could have done to make him stay in love with you. You were brought back to earth by Ben putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. ‘You don’t have to decide just yet, but the offer is there if you did want to go. It would be great to have you there.’ He gave you a quick hug, before he went back to join the rest of the group to have drinks, leaving you with your thoughts and a large decision to make. While you would love to celebrate Declan with your friends, you hadn’t seen or heard from Mason in a year. The awkwardness was what worried you the most, along with the possibility of all the emotions coming back if you did end up running into him. Because deep down, in your heart, you knew that you still loved him. He was the absolute love of your life, and you couldn’t help but feel that he was your one that got away. You realised then just how much you missed him.

The night had swiftly come to an end for you, so you messaged Ben to let him know that you were on your way home and that you’d see him soon.

Benjamin: No worries J text me when you get home, and let me know if you’re coming to Dec’s birthday bash. We’d love to have you but I know you’ll have to decide. LOVE YA X

It was safe to say you didn’t get much sleep that night. You were awake for hours, tossing and turning, thinking about what Ben had said. It would be great to go and show up for Declan. He’d been there for you through everything, even with Lauren giving birth to little Jude. They had both made space for you in their busy lives with a new-born, and you couldn’t have been more grateful. Before you could stop yourself, you sent a message to Ben:

To: Benjamin: Been thinking about it all night. Sorry for the late message, I figured I needed to say it before I think about it more lol. I’ll be at Dec’s party x

You rolled over onto your side. There was no turning back now.

The day of the party arrived. Your room was a mess, dresses and shoes strewn across the floor. You wanted to find the perfect outfit for a party, which would show that you cared to make an effort but not too much effort, on the off chance you would see Mason.

Your eyes fell upon a navy blue bodycon dress that you had worn a couple of times before. It came down to your mid-thigh and had a neckline that did your bust some considerable favours. Finally feeling more positive about what you were wearing, having started to feel like you were going to have a breakdown about not being able to find anything appropriate to wear, you shoved on a pair of simple black heels and touched up your makeup. There was a knock at your door. Checking your phone, the time was 7:30; Ben was picking you up and he had arrived bang on time.

‘Coming!’ Your voice carried into the hall as you opened the door to find Ben, who was wearing a smart navy-blue button down with black slacks. Your mind briefly registered the fact that the colour of his shirt was basically a direct match to your dress.

‘Hey, you,’ he smiled, leaning in to give you a hug. Your senses were temporarily hazy by his cologne, which you painfully recalled as one that Mason had recommended to him as you had liked it on Mason. On Ben, though, it didn’t have the same knee-weakening effect as it had done for you when Mason wore it. ‘You good?’ He had obviously taken your quietness as nervousness.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m good. You?’ He nodded. You could tell he was searching your face for any signs of discomfort, of not wanting to go, of being terrified of seeing Mason.

‘All good. Mostly just worried about you.’ You shrugged.

‘I’ll be fine. Got my wingman, I’ll be okay.’ You shared a laugh as you walked downstairs to where he had a car waiting. He held the door open for you, letting you slide in with him following you.

You and Ben spent the journey talking about your days and what you’d got up to, how your job was going, what antics he and the boys got up to at training and other small talk. He didn’t want to say anything, as he could tell you were nervous enough as it was, but he knew you well enough to know that you missed Mason almost as much as Mason missed you. You were quiet, reserved, not your usual bubbly self. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you hadn’t been your usual bubbly self since the breakup. Ben knew you loved Mason, but he never thought the breakup would impact you as much as it did.

Before long, the car pulled up at Declan’s house. The nerves in the pit of your stomach started doing backflips as you went up to the front door. Loud bass was audible through the walls, and you could tell there was a large crowd already, even though it was early by most people’s standards. You just wanted to stay for a couple of hours at the most before quietly leaving, all ideally without seeing Mason.

That plan quickly went out the window when Declan opened the door, arm in arm with Mason.

‘Hey guys! Oh…’ Declan’s wide grin disappeared the minute he saw it was you and Ben, clearly thinking you were someone else. The awkwardness was palpable. ‘Hey Y/N, Ben, glad you guys could make it!’ Dec brought you in for a hug, whispering an ‘I’m so sorry’ in your ear as he did so.

‘Don’t worry,’ you replied in an equally quiet voice, hoping he could hear you over the music. The squeeze he gave you told you he had heard you.

You avoided Mason’s eyes completely as Ben and Declan caught up, Ben asking about life at Arsenal and how Declan was finding his new club.

‘I’m gonna get a drink, did you want anything?’ You asked Ben at a break in the conversation. Mason’s eyes raked over you as you got close to Ben, one of your hands absent-mindedly on his arm. Jealousy raged in his stomach.

‘Just a beer, please, gorgeous,’ Ben replied. His usual pet-name for you was innocuous for the both of you, but took on a whole new meaning in Mason’s head. Why was he calling you gorgeous? Why were you touching him? Were the tabloids correct? Had you gone for his former teammate in the wake of the breakup? Mason’s head was reeling.

You handed Ben his drink and wandered off to mingle with some of the Arsenal WAGS, introducing yourself to Martin Ødegaard’s new girlfriend and giving Milly, Ben White’s new wife, a big hug to congratulate her, as you hadn’t been able to attend the wedding.

Neither Declan or Ben missed the fact that Mason’s eyes rarely left your form for more than a few seconds as he watched you chat and catch up with some old friends.

‘How are you, Mase, United treating you well?’ Ben asked conversationally.

‘Yeah, ‘s alright.’ Eyebrows were raised at Mason’s curt tone. Ben and Declan exchanged confused glances, before leaving Mason to his thoughts and continuing into the party to see some of the other guys who had made an appearance. Mason was left with his thoughts as he stood and pondered his next move.

As he was doing so, he saw you excuse yourself from the small throng of people to head to the kitchen to scope out the buffet. He seized his opportunity and followed you into the kitchen.

What he couldn’t have known was that instead of grabbing something to eat, you were having to physically stop yourself from having a full-blown panic attack. Gripping the counter with your hands and keeping your head bowed, you focused on keeping your breathing deep.

You had no idea how many minutes had passed, but an all-to-familiar voice brought you back to earth with an almighty bump.

‘Y/N? You okay?’ You turned, and before you knew it, you were face-to-face with the person you never thought you’d see again. ‘Y/N?’ he asked again.

‘Y-yeah, I’m okay.’ You had suffered with anxiety and panic attacks throughout your relationship, and Mason had always known how to help you.

‘You sure?’ A deep, shaky breath rattled through your body. You both knew the after-effects of the panic attack were the worst part of it all. You would feel exhausted, ashamed, guilty… But he had always been there to help you through it all. He would offer you cuddles, a listening ear, a movie, whatever you needed.

Things were so different now, though. There was a rift the size of the Atlantic Ocean between you, and you didn’t know how to get across it.

‘Let’s get you somewhere quiet, come on.’ He hesitated, before holding out his hand for you to hold. ‘You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.’ But you realised you wanted to. You needed him, you needed his touch, his hold. You reached out and grabbed his hand, immediately feeling like you had been connected with the earth again.

He led you upstairs to one of the far guest rooms, opened the door and followed you in. You took a seat on the bed, fiddling with your hands in your lap. He sat on the floor in front of you, eyeing you carefully.

‘You sure you’re okay?’ You sighed. A big, deep sigh. Now that you had him in front of you, the questions you’d held in for a year were threatening to spill over.

‘Can I ask you something?’ The look on his face suggested that he knew what you were going to ask, but he nodded, all the same. ‘Why did you stop putting effort into our relationship? You always said that I was the love of your life, that I was it for you… what happened? What happened to us?’ He sighed, similar to how you had sighed earlier.

‘Honestly, Y/N, I don’t have a good reason. I wish I did, believe me, but I don’t. The media scrutiny, the fans giving me shit on social media, the move, everything to do with it, it all just got to me. I pushed you away without even realising and for that, I will never be able to apologise enough.’ You pondered his answer, and then debated asking a question you had longed to know the answer to since the day you left but were too scared to know the answer to.

Before you could ask it, though, Mason spoke up. ‘Are you seeing Ben?’ The gravity of his question made you pause.

‘What?’

‘Are you and Ben, you know, a thing?’ You shook your head.

‘No. He’s like a brother to me, Mase, you know that. All the boys are. When I met you, you gave me a whole new family I could only have dreamed of.’ Your eyes met again. His eyes hadn’t changed a bit. They were still the deep chocolate brown you’d found home in for all those years.

You climbed down from the bed and sat with your back to the bed. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to figure out how to ask the question you were starting to crave the answer to. You felt like the answer to it was yes, but you needed to be sure. Finally, you decided to just go for it.

‘Do you… do you still love me?’ The look on his face said it all. He was looking at you like he had never seen you before, as if you were the only woman in the entire world. And to him, you were. You were everything to him and he would be forever kicking himself for ever making you feel like you weren't. He scooted forward to crouch in front of you before gently holding your face with both hands.

‘Y/N Y/LN, of course I still love you. And if you’ll have me, I’ll spend the rest of my days loving and cherishing you the way you deserve. The way I should have shown you from day one.’ Your eyes brimmed with tears as you looked at the man who had your heart.

‘Of course, I’ll have you.’ You sat up and collapsed into his arms, finally feeling that you were home once again.

#mason mount #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #mason mount smut #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #mason mount oneshot #manchester united #chelsea fc #mason mount blurb #football imagines #footballer imagines

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simmerandwrite · 2 years ago

Text

Sink Into Me - 03 - mob!Steve Rogers x plus size! reader

Summary: You were simply doing a good deed, pulling the handsome stranger out of the way when a car jumped the curb. Little did you know that the life you saved belonged to Steve Rogers, the Army veteran turned art dealer with connections to the Brooklyn crime syndicate.

Steve Rogers, who won’t stop calling you his guardian angel.

Steve Rogers, whose new goal in life just might be repaying his debt to you.

Steve Rogers, who isn’t shy until it comes to his feelings and will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08

Wordcount: 6.5k

Warnings: canon level violence (series), body image issues (series), smut (series)

Notes: Hey! This is coming out later than I wanted but life is busy these days so this story is taking a back seat. Thank you to everyone who has read so far - I appreciate all the interest! While I also appreciate every single ‘like’ on the chapters, a comment or reblog goes a long way to let me know how you are enjoying the story :) Trust me when I say a nice comment or reaction gif can really make a writer’s day and I would love to hear from you all! ( if you see me in the wild, i’m @simmerandcry)

----

The weeks of your life following the event at your apartment felt like a blur.

A lot of positives had unintentionally come from the whole experience. First, you had crossed into a friendship zone with Steve. If that’s what you wanted to call it. You both seemed to toe the line between friendly and flirty and you had no idea what it meant. Sometimes you simply traded thoughts sparingly during the day and other times there were almost-cheeky messages after the sun went down.

He had graciously supplied you with a new phone to replace yours and even put you in touch with a dog daycare in the neighbourhood that a friend of his operated, in case you wanted to look into it for Hercules.

Outside of all the positives though came the heavy downside to your entire experience. It felt like you barely slept anymore. Steve had very kindly returned back to your apartment the next day and even communicated with your landlord about repairing your door and window, and when a security camera was installed one day, you figured Steve had a hand in that too.

It didn’t stop you from feeling paranoid anytime you were there alone. You rushed home from work most days and crashed while the sun was still up, but once the darkness rolled in, every single noise outside made you feel nervous. Although you believed Steve when he said he would ‘take care’ of things, you couldn’t help but feel less and less secure as you grew more and more sleep deprived.

It was just another reason to break your lease and move on, but the idea of apartment shopping and moving was both a financial burden and a huge stressor added onto your life. Instead, you just powered through and hoped your fears would eventually subside, even if that felt impossible.

At least when you weren’t home, you were less anxious about everything.

“You look more exhausted everytime I see you,” Claire had nearly begged you to meet her for brunch on your day off while she was in between shifts. “Did things escalate with Steve the mobster?”

You rolled your eyes, stabbing your fork into the syrupy waffles sitting in front of you. “No, no. We talk sometimes but..” You tried to hide the excitement on your face when you saw a message come in from him. Not that you had been anxiously waiting for a reply from him or anything.

You [11:31AM]: dropped off Hercules for his trial at daycare today! Thanks again for the rec :) Steve Rogers [11:50AM]: Happy to help the little guy out, sweetheart. Kate will take good care of him, I promise Steve Rogers [11:51AM]: Let me know how it goes!

Fuck, it was those petnames that got you. It had to be flirting if he was calling you sweetheart, right?

Sweetheart, honey, baby, doll..

Not that you wanted to admit it, but it had been a long time since you had felt any kind of emotional reaction to another person like this. Your last situationship had been with a coworker months ago and it had not gone well for you when it crashed and burned. This kind of twist in your heart when you talked to Steve was scary. Almost scarier than the idea of your apartment being broken into, really. To feel wanted by another person, romantically or physically or both, was intimidating and hard to believe.

But the more you got to know Steve, the more worth it the risk seemed.

You shook your head of those thoughts and caught Claire’s cheeky smile as you put your phone away.

“Was that him now?”

“Yes, it was but-”

“Ahhh. I knew it. You have the anxious glow of someone in the early stages of crushing.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Claire, it’s not like that.”

“Are you sure? Because honestly if any man is giving you his time and communicating and making you check your phone obsessively…” She gave you a look when you checked on your buzzing phone again. “Having feelings for another person isn’t a bad thing, you know.”

Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe it was the pull in your heart. Either way, you trusted Claire and without even meaning to, your insecurities spilled out. “Claire, he’s way out of my league. He’s a 10 and at my best I’m sure I’m not the type usually on his radar. Our lifestyles are so vastly different, I’m guessing all his kindness is to remedy the guilt he feels over my saving his life. Whatever this is..” you grabbed your phone and waved it around. “..is bound to fizzle out when he loses interest or thinks he has put in enough time. It’s just how these things work.”

You hadn’t even realized your eyes were squeezed shut but when you opened them, Claire was staring you down as if you had two heads.

“You just gave me like half a dozen reasons why you think this guy wouldn’t be into you. But has he told you otherwise?”

You paused. No, it hadn’t been explicitly clear what Steve’s intentions were. Maybe he was just kind, maybe he thought you were friends. Or maybe he was interested in more.

“You’ll never know if you don’t ask, babe.” Claire took a sip of her coffee cup and her eyes widened. “You should make a move.”

“What? Like asking him out? Absolutely not.”

“Just dial up the flirtatious chatter. Send him a late night selfie, something a little bit sexy.”

“Claire. I can’t.”

“Uhm, you totally can. You told me you sent some pretty risky things to that idiot from your work last year sooooo take the leap.” She clapped her hands together before raising her fists in a mock cheer. “Leap of faith, leap of faith!”

“Okay, okay.” You couldn’t help but laugh as you tried to quiet her across the table. “I will try the photo thing. But if he rejects me and I get sad about it, you’re in charge of my emotional repair. Deal?”

“Deal.”

---

Steve tried very hard to keep a clear line between his work and personal life. When he was meeting with a client or getting his hands messy taking care of less than legal business, he was in work mode. It helped that he was an independent person, keeping his personal attachments to a minimum as best as he could.

But with you, his lines were starting to blur. It hadn’t made much of an impact yet but when your name showed up on his phone or your face crossed his mind, he tried to dismiss it until he could give you all his attention.

The ‘No Phone’ policy at Billy Russo’s poker game helped that, thankfully. The game was really less of a formality now, another opportunity to discuss business behind closed doors. And once the cards were piled up and every chip was cashed out and accounted for, that’s when the important conversations took place.

The backroom of Russo’s newest warehouse served as a perfect backdrop for them - with subtle tinted windows looking out towards the Hudson. The high ceilings echoed with their idle chatter. Sam had moved away from the table to flirt with the bartender, leaving Steve and Bucky with Russo and his own partner in crime, Frank Castle. But despite the gameplay and niceties, Steve had an agenda.

“To answer your question,” Russo set down his crystalline glass and leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised as a smirk grew on his face. “Of course Rumlow came to chat. I humoured the man but can you blame me?”

“He wants storage space,” Castle added in, answering the question before Steve or Bucky could even wonder.

Steve nodded. It wasn’t a secret that the docks, operated by Castle and Russo, had notorious clientele in the darkness of night. But Steve was their biggest partner and their working relationship had been ongoing for nearly a decade.

“Which we won’t give him, of course. I’m not an idiot. I know the rules.” Russo shrugged. “But I gotta tell you, Rogers - he’s getting pushy.”

To Steve’s left, Bucky grumbled. “If I see one of his guys out there with that new shit again, I’m finishing this. Discussion over.”

“Hey.” Steve reached his hand out to rest on Bucky’s shoulder. “One step at a time.”

“Becca said she heard about another kid, you know. Hospitalized because of that new shit.”

Steve’s lips tightened into a line. His biggest rule for anyone crossing his boundaries - no targeting the high schools. And this new stuff Rumlow had introduced, some unstable, addictive upper - it had already been making a mess. Steve knew he couldn’t control the movement of drugs and hey, why would he want to? It was lucrative for him. A twenty percent cut across the board kept his bank accounts padded. But the way Rumlow had started bleeding in, against Steve’s rules, it was getting out of hand.

“At least what you did to Walker scared him off for the time being,” Castle laughed, getting up to get a refill of his whisky. “What I wouldn’t give to see that guy’s smashed up face.”

Bucky smirked. “It wasn’t pretty.”

“He made his bed, sending that driver after my property. Then showing up to scare a witness who has no connection to this? He’s a bastard. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.” Steve tilted his head. “I think we’ve been clear enough for the time being. Just let me know if you see Rumlow again. Because if there is a next time, I'll deal with it myself.”

Russo stood up as Steve did, extending a gracious hand as a thank you. “So - to the club? I’m looking for an unforgettable evening.”

Steve laughed, extending his arm over the man’s shoulder. “Oh, I can promise you one.”

“Should I call up Meredith? Let her know she can come meet us?”

Steve politely ignored Russo’s bait. It had been an ongoing thing for months now - with Billy trying desperately to arrange a relationship between his sister and Steve. Quite frankly, it was embarrassing. Sure, Meredith Russo was a beautiful girl but Steve had decided a long time ago that if he was ever going to settle down with someone, it had to be genuine and not for the long term sake of a business relationship.

As they headed towards Shield , with Rumlow and Russo driving ahead while Steve and Bucky got into their awaiting car with Katy at the wheel, Steve finally checked his phone. How could he even humor the idea of Russo’s sister when there you were, sending him a few late night messages. And when he realized you had sent a photo…

You [11:45PM]: best method to tire yourself out before bed? You [11:51PM]: I’ve tried everything. currently I’ve decided to just bake cookies instead You [11:52PM]: (IMG-6521)

“Please tell me you’re pursuing that.”

Steve rolled his eyes when he saw Bucky leaning over to look at his phone screen. “Eyes to yourself, punk.” He sent his elbow across the backseat and nudged Bucky in the ribs.

As much as Steve knew he had to be rational before letting you further into his life, damnit - how could he think with his upstairs brain when you were sending him photos like that? Because even in the fluorescent lights of your tiny apartment kitchen, you were a sight to be reckoned with. From your casually messy hair to your revealing tank top to the way you were biting your lip… The tight feeling in his pants was another important reason to try and focus on his rational brain, the one who did things correctly to win you over.

But he wasn’t sure how much longer this type of talking was going to work for him. Sure, he wanted to get to know you better but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to get his hands all over you, too. He had a feeling you and him would go together so well.

He took in a deep breath and finally formulated a reply.

S Rogers [12:29AM]: I can think of a few ways to tire you out before bed, baby S Rogers [12:29AM]: and what I’d give to taste whatever you’re making S Rogers [12:34AM]: I won’t invite myself over but when can I see you? I need to see you. are you free tomorrow?

---

You nearly threw up when Steve asked you out. And as the minutes ticked by Sunday morning before you were to meet him for lunch, your nerves were getting the best of you.

I need to see you.

That meant he was interested, right? You had left a series of frantic voice messages for Claire, praying that she’d enjoy them on her morning break and true to her nature, she had calmed you down with a few positive affirmations and some advice for the sudden date.

You could do this. He wanted to see you. What was the issue?

The issue, perhaps, was your lack of sleep and how exhaustion was slowly creeping up on you. Maybe this was all a weird dream and you’d be showing up to lunch alone.

I need to see you.

Dressed in your favourite date outfit, which toed the line between casual and trying too hard, you headed towards the little lunch spot Steve had suggested. When you found him outside waiting for you, a wave of relief settled in your chest. There he was.

God, he was handsome. The mustard yellow striped shirt he was wearing hugged his chest perfectly, accentuating his biceps - which you suddenly had an urge to squeeze. You weren’t sure anyone else could pull off such a look paired with black slacks and dress shoes, but Steve managed it. Maybe it had something to do with his confident energy.

When he noticed you down the block, the grin on his face grew.

God, he was handsome.

You remained as composed as possible while he greeted you with a hug, not before pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. With a squeeze of your hand, he led you inside and immediately the server placed you both at a small table near the window.

You thought it might be awkward - the next part. The gradual move into ‘get to know you’ type of questions, but with Steve, it felt easy. Way easier than you could have anticipated. He casually ordered for you both once he confirmed your choice and cradled your hand in his across the table as you chatted.

The details in his face were so obvious in this setting - the golden blonde in his beard, the crinkles beside his eyes when he laughed, the shine of his blue eyes. You had a hard time looking away, because you felt so captured by him. And you didn’t want to jinx it, but you had a feeling that maybe he felt the same way too.

“I don’t know.” With your lip trapped between your lips, you scanned his face and held back a smile. “I think you’re lying. I find it really hard to believe that The English Patient is your favourite movie.”

“Oh, come on,” Steve laughed, pausing to take a sip of his coffee cup as he narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think that?”

“Gut feeling,” you replied with a shrug, tipping your head from side to side. “And I cannot imagine you deciding to put on a movie to relax and picking that.”

He pursed his lips for a moment then finally, his shoulders sunk down. “Okay, you caught me. My favourite movie is Singing in the Rain.”

You couldn’t help but let out an excited laugh, smile wide as you watched him. “Amazing. Unexpected, really, but somehow that feels just right.”

“What’s amazing is you saw right through me. I promise I’ll never lie to you again,” Steve crossed over his heart with his index finger before reaching his hand out again and tugging yours away from the edge of your water glass. “And now to be very honest about something - this , you and me, it somehow feels just right, too.”

You couldn’t get over his bold words but thank god he said it. What was this mysterious feeling that seemed to be sucking you both in, head first? You squeezed his hand and did everything in your power not to pinch yourself.

You could just feel it, enveloping you without hesitation - you were falling hard, already. It was a risk but you tried to remind yourself of what Claire had said: stop playing it safe, take the leap..

Steve barely humoured you when you offered to pay for the meal once the cheque arrived at the table. He spared you a quick glance over the billfold then took care of it with a swift flick of his wrist, sending the server away without another word.

Steve’s voice brought you back to the present, after momentarily losing yourself in him again. Your eyes had been fixated on the small area of skin on display above the buttons of his shirt, showing off just a hint of both chest hair and the ink of tattoos that were hiding beneath his gold chain.

With a small smile, you finally looked up and met his grin. “Sorry to stare. I was just trying to figure out your tattoos.” You watched as he swallowed hard, as if trying to contain his response.

Steve cleared his throat, motioning to the door as you both stood up. “Do you have any?” Using his closest hand, he splayed his palm against your lower back as you headed outside together.

You paused once you were back on the sidewalk, accepting the suggestion as Steve offered to walk you home. “I have one lonely tattoo.”

“And where is that hiding?”

“That is a secret.” You turned and looked at him over your shoulder as you started in the direction of your apartment.

Within a few strides, he caught up and reached for your hand. Jesus Christ, you were holding hands. How were you supposed to keep your composure?

Steve carried on, with no intention to skip over the tattoo topic. “At least tell me what the tattoo is of?”

“Just a song lyric that reminds me of my mom. I know that’s a bit silly.”

“I think that’s sweet. You’re close with her?”

“Oh yeah. She’s my best friend. I wish I could see her more but she refuses to move back to the city. She has a good circle out in Albany though so I try not to worry about her.”

“And your dad?”

“Uhm, non-existent.” You glossed over that quickly, tugging Steve along as you ventured through a crowd at the crosswalk. “What about you and nurse Sarah?”

“My ma - she’s whole heart. I almost lost her once and..” he trailed off, as if experiencing a jolt of unwelcome pain. “She’s the most important woman in my life.”

Once you got back to your apartment, you had a feeling Steve didn’t want things to come to an end yet. And truthfully, you didn’t either. Maybe inviting him in was too soon, especially in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, but he happily agreed to join you as you took Hercules for a walk.

You regaled Steve with the dramatic story about how you adopted Hercules (“He was my first attempt at fostering a dog and I immediately fell in love.”)

Steve told you about how he enlisted with Bucky and Sam after college. You traded stories about figuring your lives out in the city after your careers got started.

Before you realized it, you had looped around the block numerous times until finally, Steve remorsefully shared that he had some work things to take care of and he had to get going.

“I wish we could just keep going with whatever this is,” he insisted with a sad smile. Slowly, he reached his hand out and cradled your cheek. “Can I see you again? Dinner this week?”

“You want to see m-” You cut yourself off. Was now really the time to be filling your mind with self doubt? You were already putty in his hands, if it wasn’t obvious enough. “Yes, I’d love that.” It pained you but you knew your work week ahead was a bit intense. “Wednesday?”

Steve tipped his head back and groaned, very dramatically. “I guess I can wait until Wednesday.” He dragged his tongue across his lips, his hand travelling from your cheek towards your neck. “But in the meantime, I don’t think I’ll be able to wait until then to do this..” He met your eyes for an extra moment, waiting for your permission.

You had barely nodded your head before Steve tipped his head down and pressed his lips to yours. To describe Steve as eager would have been a disservice - but damn, the man was hungry. His lips moved in a way that seemed both calculated and feverish, leaving you catching your breath and Steve letting out a quiet growl for more.

The strap of Hercules’ leash dropped from your hand and before you realized it, Steve had caught it with his free hand, pulling away from you with a coy grin.

“Wednesday,” you whispered out the words, happily taking the leash back from Steve. “We should do more of that Wednesday.”

---

You [4:01PM]: crisis alert - Steve kissed me after our date You [4:01PM]: and it was so good. SO GOOD. Wanda [4:02PM]: !!!!! Wanda [4:03PM]: why is this a crisis? You [4:05PM]: I need to be grounded in reality Maria [4:05PM]: don’t worry, I’m always here to burst your bubble about some average man Claire [4:06PM]: let’s hope he’s above average Claire [4:07PM]: girl, get it. the real crisis is your underwear drawer, probably You [4:08PM]: wow, ouch You [4:08PM]: you’re probably right Maria [4:08PM]: booooooo

---

Steve was trying so hard to do this correctly. He could take any girl to dinner then back to his bed, but with you, he was strategizing. The extended lunch date had been step one. And leaving you with just a kiss, despite his undying desire for all of you, he was trying to establish this was important to him.

You were important to him.

Just getting to know you and seeing your smile, and God, hearing you laugh - he was done for. He hadn’t felt this way before and he didn’t want to fuck it up. It wasn’t lost on him how rare this flood of feelings were - when was the last time he anxiously paced around his office, half-assing his check-ins, delegating more than he normally would, daydreaming about you, counting down the minutes until he picked you up?

It didn’t help that you two had spent the last few nights on the phone, talking way later than either of you probably needed to be awake. But it seemed you couldn’t help yourselves.

When you messaged him about working late then picking up Hercules late and that you were running behind, he frowned.

You [5:57PM]: I’m really sorry Steve [5:57PM]: It’s okay, I had just gotten to my car You [5:58PM]: Well, if you want to head over now - if you don’t mind waiting, you can come in and hang with Herc :)

You greeted him at the door, already apologizing profusely for not being ready on time. How could he be mad when he got to see this side of you - in between outfits and still smiling so nervously?

“I pushed the reservation,” Steve assured you with a wave of his hand, resisting the urge to push you against the closest wall and pick up where you left off earlier that week. “Take your time.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you offered him another nervous smile before turning, heading back towards your bathroom. “I’ve been taking naps after work the last few weeks but working late today has just thrown me off. I swear I’m usually not like this..”

“It's okay, you’re giving me time to befriend Hercules anyway.” Steve took a seat on your couch, happy to spend the next few minutes playing with your dog while you got ready.

He couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but something about your energy seemed off. Maybe it was nerves, but after things had ended so positively following your lunch date, he hoped it was good nerves, at least. Positive energy, if possible. The connection between you had struck him so furiously, he supposed it made sense to look at it from a realistic perspective too, but he wanted you to be excited, not anxious.

As he leaned back into the cushions, he felt something poke into his back. Curious, he leaned forward again and twisted, eyebrows raising as he found a small cast iron frying pan lodged between your pillows.

Steve considered himself a very intuitive person. Once he took a half second to analyze your space, he was coming to a conclusion he hoped wasn’t true. Tipping his head to the side, he scanned the doorway. The landlord had quickly removed the broken door and replaced it with something more secure, thanks to a strongly worded phone call and thinly veiled threat from Steve. And yet, you kept a spare dining chair propped up behind it.

Behind him, the window above your couch had also been replaced - and you had left the protective plastic on the new pane, plus added an extra blanket to cover it up.

He stood up and took a few paces further into your apartment, sparing a glance into the kitchen. You had moved your knife block closer to the edge of the counter.

“Do you think those guys are going to show up again? At my apartment?”

Steve let out a quiet sigh, desperate to keep a rational mind as he called out your name.

“I’m almost ready!” You called back through the bathroom door, opening it slowly to find Steve’s concerned face. Your bathroom was tiny and even in the doorway, it seemed as if Steve was already inside the room with you. “Is everything okay?”

He nodded, barely. Steve sucked in a breath, dragging a hand across his jaw as he flicked his gaze down to watch you through the mirror. Fuck, he just had to ask. “I think so... But why did I just find a frying pan behind your couch cushions?”

Slowly, you brought your hand back down and rested it on the sink, meeting Steve’s eyes in the mirror. “Oh, uh.. I must have forgotten it there..”

He could see your immediate distress, the way you held your breath and gripped the edge of the countertop. “I mean, I know you have a small kitchen but if you are using your couch for storage..” Steve said your name, confidently calling your bluff as he searched for the explanation. He reached his hand out and rested it on your shoulder. “Hey, talk to me.”

You closed your eyes. “I can’t really explain..” You swallowed hard, head moving side to side in a curt shake. “I understand if you want to leave.”

His head shook slowly, one eyebrow drawing upwards in concern. “What? Why would I do that?”

“I could think of a dozen reasons why you’d want to bail now.”

“And I can think of a dozen reasons to stay.” He lifted his hand and cradled your chin, encouraging you to look in his direction. “Sweetheart, tell me what’s going on. Just try and explain it, please. I’m listening.”

Maybe you were tired, maybe you had nothing to lose. Taking a deep breath, everything just spilled out. “Fine. I.. I can’t sleep anymore. I’m scared here all the time and I don’t know what to do. I can’t afford to even think about looking for a new place so I’m hoping this’ll just go away and, well, I know this is a lot. Too much, probably. I’m too much - it’s okay if you don’t want to deal with it.” You choked out a laugh. “It’s not like I’d be able to attack someone if they broke in again! I mean, look at me - what kind of insane person hides wannabe weapons around her home, just in case? What am I going to do - attack some gun wielding idiot with a frying pan? I just.. it’s a dumb precaution I guess.” You shook your head, tearing your eyes away from Steve. “I’m scared. And tired, so tired.”

Steve took in a deep breath, then leaned in to press a kiss to the top of your head. With a few quiet words and his guidance, you were suddenly sitting on the closed toilet seat while he crouched in front of you.

“You’re not too much.” He rested his hands on your knees, thumbs swooping in circles against your skin. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

You shrugged, letting out a deflated laugh. “We met like five minutes ago. I don’t do this sort of thing-” You motioned between yourself and Steve, “-often and I’m worried I’m screwing it all up. Having irrational fears about living in my own home - you don’t want to deal with that.”

Steve sighed. If anyone was going to screw up, he knew it wouldn’t be you. “Contrary to what you might think, I don’t do this much either.” He motioned between you both the same way. “So, let's try and deal with this ‘scared to sleep’ thing together.” He offered you a small smile. “First thing - how about a nap?” He was confident that your door and window were secure though he was determined to check on those things later, too.

“But you made reservations and-”

He waved his hand, dismissing your argument. “C’mon. Do you think you’ll sleep better if I’m watching guard from the living room?”

A frown returned to your face. “I guess. But I bet I would have the most success if you were.. in bed beside me.”

Steve laughed, brushing his tongue over his lips to focus his thoughts. “I’m trying to be a gentleman, sweetheart.”

“We’ll keep it PG..” You stifled a yawn. “I promise.”

---

You half expected Steve to be gone when you finally stirred from your sleep. Even if he had crawled into the bed beside you and draped his arm over you, with one cautious hand rubbing your back as you drifted asleep.

But when you woke up, he was still on the bed. He had shifted slightly to sit up against the headboard, typing on his phone. The glow of his screen and your bedside table lamp cast a glow across his stoic features.

When he noticed you stirring, he turned his gaze in your direction. “Hey you.”

“Hi,” you replied quietly, propping yourself up onto your elbows. “Hope I didn’t sleep too long.”

“About an hour,” Steve answered, reaching his hand over slowly and brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Seems like you needed it though. The pillow drool is evidence.”

“Nooo,” you pushed his hand away and tried to hide under the blankets. “Let’s pretend you didn’t see that. Drool is for third dates, at the earliest.”

“Wanna come somewhere with me? I know it’s not the date we had planned but I need to check out one of my buildings.” Steve reached over and tugged down the blanket. “What do you say? We can bring Hercules too.”

You could already hear your excited pup getting up from his perch on the hallway floor outside your room, excited to be included in whatever the plan was. You appreciated Steve’s ongoing inclusion of your son. “Sure. I’m sorry I turned our evening into this.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, sweetheart.”

You were quick to get ready again, although with a bit less attention to detail since your fancy dinner reservations had gone out the window. By the time you put yourself together and headed to Steve’s car, you couldn’t hide your loud, hungry stomach.

And instead of letting you dismiss your hunger, Steve doubled down and insisted he take you by his favourite pizza place on the way to his property. You laughed when he claimed it was a Brooklyn institution, deserving of every single pizza award in existence. You didn’t have the heart to tell him it was fine and your own preferred spot was way better. It probably wasn’t the right time to have a playful argument with him while he was greeted so warmly by the owners of the pizza shop.

One thing you appreciated immensely about Steve already was how much he seemed to care about Hercules and how he was a part of your life. Steve didn’t even hesitate to let him into his very fancy car and even mentioned that moving forward he’d try to bring a bigger vehicle to better accommodate your son.

Although you couldn’t be certain, from the way he discussed it, Steve clearly owned multiple properties of varying purposes. The building he eventually parked in front of was what looked like a refurbished apartment building. It was on a quiet street just a few blocks from Steve’s own apartment.

“Wow,” your commentary spilled out when you got out of the car, guiding Hercules along too. “You sure he can come in here?”

Steve grabbed your free hand and nodded. “Of course, this is a pet friendly building. Actually, it even has a mini dog park off the left side beyond the community room.”

You followed where he motioned beside the building, craning your neck to see a tall fence beside the far wall. “You’re kidding. Dang, a real luxury building, Herc. What a dream.”

“You have no idea,” Steve joked, pausing outside the door before someone appeared to let you in. “Thanks, Barton.” Steve turned and introduced you to the man as you walked in.

“Nice to meet you,” you said to Clint, who Steve described as a ‘jack of all trades’ property manager who helped maintain all of Steve’s buildings. “This place seems amazing.”

“You know how that phrase goes, right?” Clint threw up his elbow to nudge at Steve as you all headed to the elevator. “Jack of all trades, master of none?”

“Hey, you’re a master of a lot of stuff, I know. You should see this guy play darts,” Steve shot you a small glance and winked.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Rogers. Let me show you that newly vacated unit - third floor.”

You weren’t sure what the weird non-talking was that seemed to be going on between Steve and his friend, but you figured it wasn’t your place to ask. It seemed as if everything Clint was saying and explaining to you, he needed Steve’s approval for it.

By the time you got to your destination, Clint had gone through a thorough list of amenities about the building. You weren’t sure why he was doing that either - you figured Steve must already know about the building since he owned it but it was nice to hear about. Beyond the dog park, there was a small coffee shop being added to the lobby, plus there was a full gym and rooftop deck area for all tenants to use at their leisure. Full time doorman, co-working space, parcel delivery, basement storage, bike storage, garbage pickup.. It was beyond luxury.

Clint flipped through his keychain and let you and Steve into one of the units on the corner, then excused himself on a phone call.

“This building is amazing. Wait, I already said that. Incredible, there we go.” You took a few more steps in, taking in the bright lights and clean lines of the one bedroom apartment. “Wow.” While the bar for what you considered a decent apartment was low, this place was still impressive.

It wasn’t much bigger than your own place but the layout made way more sense and it was clearly recently renovated, with a small kitchen full of new cabinetry on the left wall that opened up into the main living room space. And god, the windows were huge - giving a nice view into the streets of Brooklyn. And shit - what was a dishwasher?

You looked back at Steve, who was watching you from his little pose leaning against the door. “Did you just need to see the unit to make sure it was all clean for the next person?” Truthfully, that didn’t make much sense but you seriously could not pinpoint why Steve had any interest in checking out the apartment.

He shook his head, a growing grin on his face as he pushed off from his pose. “Did you see the in-unit laundry?” In a few strides he pulled open a closet door to reveal a stackable washer and dryer unit. “Big closet in the bedroom too.”

You followed him into the bedroom, which shared the same view as the living room with windows that reached the ceiling. “It’s so nice. Whoever moves in next better appreciate it.” Your eyebrow raised up, curious when Steve started wringing his hands together, nervous. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yes,” he hesitated, tipping his head side to side before he took a step closer to you near the window. “I’m just trying to figure out how to approach this right. This apartment.. I want to offer it to you.” He pointed his fingers out through his clasped hands, waiting for your reaction. “What do you think?”

You laughed at the idea, unable to even take him seriously. “There is no way I can afford this place, Steve. Thank you but..”

“Don’t let the price be an issue.”

You scrunched up your face, keeping a firm grip on Hercules’ leash. “You can’t just give me an apartment.”

“I’m not,” He smiled, soft and honest. “I mean, I would but.. I’ll match your current rent. No deposit, no extra fees. You’ve got to let me give you back your sense of security. It’s killing me knowing you’ve lost that.” Though your resistance was wavering, he tried to reassure you. “Just think about it, okay? I promise I don’t have any ulterior motives. I just.. your safety is important to me. And I told you - a thousand favours.”

You closed your eyes, juggling both the uncertainty and excitement of possibility in your mind. “Steve, an apartment is worth a lot of favours, I think.”

“Do you know the exact exchange rate of rental property to favours? We could start a spreadsheet maybe..” His cheeky grin was practically spilling off his face. “You deserve to feel safe in your own home, sweetheart. Hercules too.”

With a gentle poke you tapped against his chest. “Just let me think about this one?”

“Okay, okay. Whenever you decide, whatever you decide, you let me know and we’ll get things sorted with Clint.” Steve took another step closer and slowly brought his hands up to your cheeks again, nibbling his own lip as he took you in. “Now, how about a sleepover tonight? I think we have some unfinished business from our last date.”

---

< Chapter 02 - Chapter 04 >

Notes: Up next: like our queen Miss Taylor sang in Labyrinth: ‘oh no, i’m falling in loveeee’ and maybe… some smut and danger and a peek into Steve’s business side. I’d love to know what you think so far! thank you for reading :)

#steve rogers x reader #mob boss steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x plus size reader #mob boss steve rogers x you #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #mob au #simmerandcry #simmerandwrite #story: sink into me #simmer and write

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freak-attorney · 5 months ago

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Random Ace Attorney headcanons!!! :D

Feel free to leave ur own in the notes or if u agree/disagree!!

(Also please keep in mind that I'm basing these off of the first trilogy since that it all I've played so far!)

Feel free to ask/request any other specific headcanons from me :D

Phoenix Wright

Barely passed the LSAT

Used to have panic attacks in court (is now in therapy)

Always has a hair tie for Maya

Has learned how to do Pearl's hair for her

Filipino/American

Chronically online

Finds millennial humor funny

ADHD undiagnosed

Bisexual

His hair ALWAYS has traces of gel in it

He's a dog person but loves cats

His suit is always a bit wrinkled

Survives on red bull and microwave dinners

*finger guns*

Love language is physical touch and acts of service

Falls asleep at his desk every night during a case

Needs 5+ alarms to wake up in the morning

Uses concealer to hide his eye bags

Doesn't floss

Sleeps like a starfish

Has sweat stains on several shirts

Naturally wavy hair but he straightens it

Miles Edgeworth

Always hours early to a case because he's very anxious about being late

Sometimes wishes he had a different career (outside of law) but never even considered it an option until recently

Very argumentative over silly things, eventually apologizes with a small gift or note

Love language is gift giving

Enjoys parallel play.. like he enjoys just having someone in his office while he's working even though he doesn't acknowledge them

Has good stamina from always using stairs over elevators

Can cook very well, enjoys cooking for others

Autistic (late diagnosed)

Has a collection of fidget toys that only a few people know about

Chronically OFFline

Enjoys animal crossing and other peaceful games

Has excellent hygiene

Started dying his hair grey as soon as he found one strand of grey hair

Makes a photo album for Franziska for her birthday each year

Has a blanket that he's slept with for 10+ years

Keeps every trinket that Pearl or Maya might give him

Has fresh clothes and toiletries at the office in case he sleeps there

Prefers gold over silver

Is a cat person but is okay with dogs (he thinks dogs are messy)

Has an ironing board in the wall of his office

Probably gay or somewhere on the aroace spectrum

Wears a full face of makeup to court (gatekeeps his sweat proof foundation)

Sleeps curled up in one corner of his bed

Maya Fey

Loves to do cartwheels (can't actually do a proper cartwheel)

Tries learning Japanese on DuoLingo (can't keep more than a 5 day streak)

Taught Pearl basically everything she knows

Love language is quality time

Is very good at rhythm games

Has "childish" interests like Sailor Moon, Hello Kitty, My Little Pony, etc.

Enjoys older arcade games like Galaga, Frogger, and Mappy

Wanted to be a veterinarian at some point but is a bit too squeamish for that

Is ALWAYS late even if she plans to be early

Sleeps with a night light

Has a collection of rocks that Pearl gave her growing up

Loves abstract art

Hugs very tightly

Since Mia's death her last words to anyone close to her when they separate for any amount of time is "I love you" just in case

Is naturally unorganized but started keeping a planner when she started working with Phoenix... she sometimes forgets the planner exists but she TRIES okay??

Dick Gumshoe

Love language is gift giving and acts of service for SURE

Would gladly give someone his umbrella in the rain knowing he'd get soaked

Doesn't know how to cook because he doesn't have the resources but he'd like to learn

Forgot to put water in his ramen once and almost burned his apartment down

Doesn't always shower because his water gets cut off

Smells pretty rank but Edgeworth gifts him nice body sprays sometimes

Always makes sure Edgeworth is up at a reasonable time for a case/trial even though he really doesn't need to

Always chewing gum

Dream car is a Jeep Wrangler

Demiromantic

Memorizes little details about people to give them good birthday/holiday gifts

Gets very excited about fortune cookies

Loves buffets

Gives the BEST hugs

Is scared of thunderstorms and terrified of hurricanes

Really appreciates small gifts like keychains or trinkets

Lets Maya and Pearl paint his nails

Has really large and calloused hands

Sleeps all snuggled up hugging a pillow

Used to collect magnifying glasses

Bites on his pencils/pens

Franziska Von Karma

Sapphic.

She wears press ons

Stalks the social media accounts of her clients

Sleeps in a grandma nightgown

Has two planners: one physical and one on her phone

Really wants a pet rabbit

Has so many decorative pillows on her bed and arranges them every morning

Hits people next to her when she laughs

Quietly gives gifts for holidays/birthdays without making it a big deal

Casually gives super expensive gifts

Plays Genshin

Forces Edgeworth to watch reality TV with her (Say Yes to the Dress, My Strange Addiction, ANTM, Jersey Shore)

Really likes horror movies but can't handle too much gore

Classically trained in ballet

Enjoys photography

Watches the Kentucky Derby every year

Basically raised Miles when Manfred didn't

Knows how to sew but doesn't have the time

Collects Monster High dolls

Likes dogs but LOVES cats

Finds dumb people really attractive

Needs complete silence when doing paperwork or she can't concentrate

Autistic (undiagnosed)

Doesn't plan on ever getting married

Probably one of the only characters that gets proper sleep

Prefers pleated skirts over pencil but wears them in court to look professional

Hates the texture of chiffon fabric

Always wearing a different pair of earrings

Has a couple small tattoos but covers them well

Has the sharpest eyeliner known to man

Fluent in a few languages including Mandarin Chinese, French, and Italian

That's all for now!!

#ace attorney #dick gumshoe #franziska von karma #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #maya fey #phoenix wright ace attorney #ace attorney trilogy #ace attorney headcanons #aa headcanons

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deanscutiepiesam · 2 months ago

Note

happy wincest wednesday! random question: do you think salmondean have any weird phobias that they didn't mention on the show? -lizzy

Happy Wincest Wednesday!! ♡

First, thanks for the ask! Second, this is a really good question, and it got me thinking. So I'm just gonna ramble a bit about why I think they have each phobia I list under the cut. Also, they're not that weird of phobias, I don't think, so I hope that's okay! ^^

---

Dean:

• Cynophobia: Fear of Dogs.

After being brutally mauled by hellhounds, I would be scared too :( However, in typical Dean fashion, he represses it, and it comes off as just an aversion to dogs. (Ex. Running from that small dog in Yellow Fever, being upset at Sam for having a dog in his car in s8, Portia from Man's Best Friend with Benefits clocking that Dean dislikes dogs.) I think it isn't until Dog Dean Afternoon where he can understand them and act like them, does he come to face his fear and even come to like dogs. Hence why he was sweet with Miracle in s15.

• Pyrophobia: Fear of Fire.

I think this one was temporary, as well, and definitely when he was little. I feel like watching your house go up in flames and having your mom die when you're four will do that to you. As I said, this one is definitely temporary as Dean had to "grow out of it" when he started hunting with John, and they needed to salt & burn bones and things of that nature.

• Taphophobia: Fear of Being Burried Alive.

I don't have much canon support on this one, but I think waking up burried in s4 could've fucked him up a bit. Not to mention in s14 with the Ma'lak Box, he has nightmares about trapping himself in it with Michael. I feel like anyone would be freaked out over this, but I don't know, it just feels right. Dean likes being in control and he usually fears things where he feels trapped and vulnerable (like planes) so I think it's possible.

• Homophobia (Kidding lmao.)

Wait, actually...

• Internalized Homophobia.

I don't have to explain this one. You understand, yes?

Sam:

• Eisoptrophobia: Fear of Mirrors.

Sam is a very guilty character, as we all know, and I think that could seriously skew how he sees himself to the point that he avoids looking at himself whenever he can. I think it gets worse after he gets his soul back, and he has identity issues with all his soulless counterpart did. Plus, all the times he's been possessed. Sometimes, he looks and sees Lucifer, sometimes Gadreel (maybe even Meg in earlier seasons. She could've started his aversion). Regardless, it's just easier for him not to look at himself.

• Phonophobia: Fear of Loud Sounds.

Late seasons Sammy flinches™ :((

In canon, he has visible reactions to Dean getting loud and angry, and I also think it could apply to other loud sounds as well. With all he's been through, I wouldn't be surprised if this was a symptom of his ptsd. (Also, I headcanon that he enjoys spending time with Eileen because it's always quiet. They can sit in silence and sign to each other, and it's calming.)

• Decidophobia: Fear of Making Decisions.

Wait, hear me out. Nearly every time Sam makes a big decision in his life, it backfires on him. It's always the "wrong choice" no matter how much good he tries to achieve. I, of course, don't blame him for this, but basically, everyone in his life does. With that in mind, I think Sam would struggle to make big choices. The fight being zapped from him in the later seasons? Submitting to Dean? It's easier. In his mind he can't "fuck anything up" if he just does what he's told... and even then, it's never good enough :(

Sam & Dean:

• Eremophobia: Fear of Being Alone/Abandoned.

This one also doesn't need explaining. These codependent boys need each other like oxygen. Canon support: the entire show.

• Somniphobia: Fear of Sleeping.

This is a long one y'all...

I headcanon that they both are anxious to go to sleep because [insert trauma here], but they never realized it because they'd always slept either with each other (when little) or next to each other (in motels). But after having separate rooms in the bunker, it called it to attention. I feel like they started (literal) sleeping together after the newness & excitement of having their own rooms wore off.

People can have this fear for different reasons, and I listed nightmares, but I also think Sam would have sleep paralysis and sometimes see Lucifer, which isn't fun. Fear of dying in your sleep can also be a symptom, but I'm spinning this one to the fear of each other dying. If the brothers are (literal) sleeping together, they can check the other's pulse from time to time, feel their breathing, and know that the other is okay. Also, another symptom can be things happening to them in their sleep (website said like burglary, fire, disasters, etc), I think it's fitting too, but it'd be more like monsters and demons for them.

Canon support for this is kinda low, but there is some, in my opinion. In motels, sleeping on the edge of their beds near each other. After hell trauma, sleeping fully clothed on top of the covers, never settling. Guns and knives hidden under beds, mattresses, and pillows. (People have also pointed out seeing one brother's stuff in the other brother's room, so this fuels my delusion that they share rooms in the bunker sometimes.)

---

Anyways, that's all I have for right now. I'm sure I could find more if I kept researching (because this is so interesting and I'm going down a rabbit hole of fears), but this post is already kinda long... Thanks again for the ask, and I hope this is what you were looking for! ^^

#asks answered #wincest wednesday #wincest #samdean #headcanons #fear headcanons #character analysis i guess?

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fleatomatosauce · 10 days ago

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Meet my silly little Mimesona: Jux!

Alias: Mint

Pronouns: she/they

Mime Height: 6’9 (without ears)

Puppet Class: Balloon animal

Puppet height: 9’4

Class: Annoying Doggirl

Strength: Humor, Support

Weakness: needles

Jux is the embodiment of mint green. She’s a natural optimist, and tries to cheer her friends by telling them the good in each situation they face. Much like El Ganso, she has high empathy, and because of this, tries her best to support her friends…although she doesn’t always succeed in doing so. Jux likes to call themself “silly” and is reflected by their usually playful and happy nature. They have a strong sense of justice and isn’t afraid to tease those she’s against. Despite this, they’re still victim of feeling depressed and anxious at times. Don’t worry for them, though! They can easily find ways to cope. :3

Description

True form

Jux stands at 6’9, being relatively average height for a mime. Her hair is a dark

Mint green and consists of three long balloons-2 acting as “ears” that stick out and one going down in the center, like a ponytail. She also has long loose “strands” of hair at the front of non-inflated rubber. They have two pairs of facial markings, both in a lighter shade of mint than their hair. One pair is of circle blush marks on their cheeks, and the other is of outstretched diamonds vertically across the middle of each eye. Jux wears circular shades with mint tinted lenses. Her eyes are semicircles, with the straight line being on top. Her pupils are light mint with a white circle surrounding each. Their eyebrows are circular, and are the same dark mint as their hair. She has one fang on each side of her mouth. Jux’s carapace is black, as well as all of her arms and legs. These limbs can stretch and compress much like pop tubes. There is a string wrapped around Jux’s neck tied to a bow.

Puppet Form

Jux is a giant balloon dog-esque puppet whose midsection is a black pop tube that can stretch in and out to her own will. Other than that, the rest of her body is mint green. She retains her facial markings, but they are now colored black. The endings of her balloons are also colored black. The string bow necklace that Jux wears in mime form stays.

Bios

True form

“Haiii!!! My name is Jux, you know, like the word “juxtaposition”? Yeah, that’s me! Not like the name really matters or anything. I just think it sounds silly. Like me! I like to be full of joy and whimsy, and maybe I’ll give you some of it if you want! :3

Personality

Likes

* Stuffed animals

* Animals in general

* Alternative rock

* Using her limbs to reach stuff

* Helping those in need

* Sticking her head out of car window frames

* Baked goods

* Chocolate, surprisingly

* Messing with people she doesn’t like

* Carnivals

Dislikes

* Obnoxious, offensive people

* The fatty parts in meat

* Not being taken seriously at times

* Being rejected

* Needles

Much like TyVson, when Jux first came to Earth, she was very curious about the new realm she has entered. She had a mostly positive view on these subjects that she’s just recently learned about, but there are still things she hates with a passion. It’s just more good things than bad to her.

Jux also has a high sense of creativity. They like to make digital art and write stories. They’re also interested in creating music, but they want to find a band to play in. Or maybe they could just be a music producer and compose with a computer???

Morals

Despite her energeticness, Jux is neutral good. The logic is simple to her: see someone in help that isn’t a shitty person? Is nobody out there to help them? Then, go ahead and be the one to help them! The bystander is freer still applies to Jux, which can make her not do anything if she assumes someone else will help.

Thoughts on hosting

There are a lot of conflicting parts to the process of hosting that question whether or not Jux would like to host in the future. On one hand, you get to experience life as someone you’ve never been before, especially one as a different species than you. Jux has always wanted to be in a different form than her true of puppet forms, to this aspect of hosting is one that excites her. But on the other hand, the person your hosting has to be dead. That means if you see someone you really want to host, you must kill them. Jux does NOT want to do this, so they’ll just wait for someone that’s already dead to host. But how do they find them? They can’t just break into a hospital and crawl into a corpse of a patient. The process is hard, and that’s why Jux doesn’t have a host form yet.

Relationships

Foxglove

Jux and Foxglove are sort of “sisters”, since they both resemble canids. Because of this, the two have a closer bond than if this wasn’t the case. Foxglove is usually annoyed by Jux’s behavior, and Jux feels bad for this and wishes to be quieter around her, although it’s hard. That way Jux leaves Foxglove alone when possible: after all, there are tons of other people to be with, mimes or living.

Caela

Many mimes see Jux as a toned-down version of Caela. Due to their similar personalities, they are close friends and love to cause shenanigans together.

Ching

Since Jux is best friends with Caela, they were quickly introduced to Ching. They like how “chill” he is, and they develop a crush on him. The problem is that Caela and Ching are partners. This makes Jux very jealous, but being friendly, she believes that Caela deserves Ching, and tries not to think about it as much. Just get another partner, Jux.

Chickenstab

Chickenstab is what Jux considers their second best friend. They’re both chaotic and fun-loving, and the energy is doubled when they’re together…and yes, it’s tripled when Caela is around.

TyVson

Jux and TyV bond over the fact that they find Earth fascinating. They like to talk to each other about things they’ve recently discovered, and they even go out on adventures to learn about various subjects. TyV also has gotten Jux into television. Maybe she’ll host a robot in the future? She is still very unsure of who to host.

El Ganso

Because they both have high levels of empathy, Jux and El Ganso are close to each other. They talk about the best way to support people, and they then put it into action. El Ganso can get annoyed by Jux, though, but they still enjoy her presence.

Rachel

Jux and Rachel are both peppy by nature, so it’s natural for them to be friendly towards each other. Rachel is practically Jux’s living gossip machine.

Debbie

Debbie and Jux bring the same sort of chaos to others. They find each other entertaining to be around, especially with what Jux thinks of Debbie. She’s even allowed to call Debbie, erm, “Debbie” instead of D, but Jux just sticks to the latter “because it’s cool”.

Vilmr

Jux has a crush on Vilmr, but like the situation with Ching, she’s not asking him out because he’s with Debbie. Other than than, she likes how “silly” he is and she learned how to play Minecraft by him. They meow at each other because it’s funny.

Trivia

Jux is the “mimesona” of Lyn.

Jux is based off of a fidget toy that Lyn found of a plastic balloon dog with a pop tube in its center.

#pandoraposting #pandora draws #pandoras OCs #colorquest #cq #oc #original character #jux #colorquest oc #cq oc

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jawritter · 2 years ago

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If It’s Meant to Be

Pt. 8

Summary: Bad things happen to good people, that’s just the rule of thumb. But sometimes, things happen for a reason, and that reason is so you can find the person you’re meant to be with…

Pairing: Alpha!Beau Arlen x Omega!Reader

Warnings: 18 + ONLY!!! ANGST!!!

Word Count: 3108

A/N: This fic is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Enjoy!

My Masterlist Series Masterlist

‘Silent as the grave’, would possibly be a good phrase to describe the car ride back to Y/N’s little house that was nestled so quaintly on a quiet street just outside of town...

Or would it really be a good phrase if you think about it? Because honestly, there was plenty of noise all around them. Just like she would assume there would be in a grave, if one was buried that is. So maybe it was a good enough analogy?

In the grave, it would be safe to say that you would hear the muffled sound of the cars as they passed by on the highway. You would maybe even hear the muffled mourning of a passing funeral procession further down the line of silent tombs. Outside there would still be birds singing. Dogs barking. The occasional bombing of a radio of a young, carless person they passed by, going on about their daily lives. There would be ‘noise’ all around, echoing into the empty, dark, tomb that held the carcass of the one that no longer lived here on this side of the universe.

Sitting in that car was almost the same. There were noises. Cars flew by them on the highway. Dogs barked on the side of the road as their owners attempted to walk them. If the window was down, there would be the occasional bird singing. The car next to them at the redlight had a loud thump of a base that even shook her rearview mirror. But inside the car, inside this ‘grave’ of sorts, not a sound was uttered between the two of them as she drove closer and closer to home. It was just the echo of life going on about them into the dark place they both seemed to find themselves. So yes, she assumed ‘silent as the grave’ would fit the pair of them perfectly.

The only sound that came from the passenger seat next to her in her little car, was the high-pitched wine that would slip past Beau’s very high defenses every time she stopped suddenly or hit a bump in the road. At first the sadistic side of her revealed in the fact that she caused him at least some measure of pain. A twisted payback if you will, for the pain he’d already caused her. But the more he did it, the more the Omega inside of her took pity on him, and she slowed her pace down to be more careful of the stop signs and bumps. At which point, the car’s interior became deathly silent, all but the sounds that were coming from all around them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she pulled up the small, concrete driveway that of her house, and put the car in park, her heart hammering so loudly that she was certain he could hear it, but when she looked over at him, sitting in the passenger seat with this head down, and his eyes shut tight, carefully breathing out of his mouth, she had a feeling that he could currently give a fuck just how anxious she was in that moment. Mostly likely, all he cared about was how much pain he was in. Which, honestly, he had been shot, so that was kinda understandable.

“Are you just gonna sit there, mouth breathing, or do you plan to come inside,” Y/N shot at him, doing her best to hide just how much she wanted to reach out and comfort him, putting up the same cold manners he’d given her.

Beau looked at her then, and she had to bite down hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from whining at the dead, pained look on his face. It was enough to make her feel guilty for snapping at him.

She would have almost understood if he’d decided to bite back at her. But instead of arguing, or even making a snide remark, he just nodded as he hit send on the text message on his phone he’d typed up to Jenny, she was pretty sure it was something to do with pain medication he needed from the pharmacy, and she eternally slapped herself. She wanted to give him a dose of his own medication, but she didn’t mean to be THAT cruel.

He didn’t give her time to say anything else to him, he just grabbed the door handle and manhandled the door open on the car, stepping out onto the driveway to wait on her.

Way deep down in the back of her mind, she knew this was going to be harder than she wanted to admit, and maybe, just maybe, she should have taken him back to his trailer and just stayed with him there. She knew that her house would reek with her scent, and she knew Beau knew it too. Him still having signs of rut in his system wasn’t, being here would probably just make things that much worse. But honestly, she could not make herself step foot back in that trailer right now.

Even though both of them knew these things, neither said a word to one another as she turned the key on her front door, and stepped inside with him right behind her.

Her house was not a large one. One bedroom, one bathroom, with a small open kitchen and living room floor plan. It was all the rent she could afford when she came to Montana. Now, she wished that she would have at least splurged for the two bedrooms.

“Where am I allowed to sit down?” Beau asked behind her, making her jump at the scratchy, tired sound of his voice.

“Anywhere,” she answered, shaking herself out of the daze she had let herself slip into. She had a tendency to do that when she was stressed. She’d let herself slip away into worry. Which is exactly what she had just done.

She watched him as he slowly made his way over to the couch and sat down slowly, grunting as he did so with the effort it took to move. She knew he was in pain, she wasn’t an idiot, and it made the Omega inside of her sway her for just a moment.

Beau winced as he tried to remove the jacket from his shoulders, and out of reflex, Y/N moved to help him, when a deep, warning growl sounded so suddenly from him, that she damn near fell on her ass in sheer surprise.

Beau seemed a little surprised by his own reaction, and stared at her, wide eyed, and mouth moving, but no words seemed to be able to come out as Y/N slowly backed away from him.

She couldn’t decide if she deserved that reaction, or maybe if bringing him here was a really, REALLY bad idea, and this was the first sign of it. Maybe Beau wasn’t who she thought he was, maybe he was one of those Alphas that every mother everywhere warned her about.

The air between the pair of them was so tense, and so thick, you could have cut it with a knife. Neither one of them could move. Y/N’s emotions were reeling at a thousand miles a second. She was more than a little upset if she were being truthful about the whole situation, and while she had been no saint to him, she had been pretty hurt by him from the beginning. Still, she didn’t expect him to become suddenly aggressive with her. If she would admit it, even to herself, his reaction to her even just touching his jacket was more than a little hurtful. It stung really.

Beau stood slowly, careful with his movements because of his arm, and also, she was sure he could sense she was afraid of him. “Maybe it would be best if I just go and stay with Jenny—”

“And when you go into rut, and have to be hospitalized, who do you think will end up in jail Beau? They’re not exactly going to come after the Sheriff, but they will have no problem coming after a no name Omega like myself.”

Beau’s nostrils flared and his lips thinned out into a line, showing off dimples that did nothing but spell out his discontent in a cute fashion. Which she was a little too angry and hurt to focus on at that moment, but she was sure they’d come back to haunt her later.

After a moment of consideration, Beau sighed heavily then sat back down on the couch to run his hand over his face harshly.

“You don’t want me here, I was just trying to relieve you of me, that’s all.”

She opened her mouth to rebuttal him, but as soon as she did, the doorbell sounded.

“That’s probably Jenny with your things,” Y/N said, her voice tight with frustration and hurt, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Beau. She didn’t give him any time to open his mouth again and hurt her any further, so she opened the door for a very concerned looking Jenny, who wasted no time to step inside with her full attention on Beau. So much so, that Y/N just stepped back and closed the door behind her for the tall blonde that hurriedly made her way towards the injured Alpha.

“Jesus Beau,” she fussed as she knelt down in front of him, and Y/N tried not to let it show that she was suddenly nauseated. “You’re still covered in blood.”

Y/N did not miss the judgemental tone in her statement, but said nothing, she suddenly felt very outnumbered in her own home. Like a third wheel in this whole situation.

“Well, I kinda had to wait on you to get here before I can take this off, I doubt she would have anything that would fit me,” Beau quickly responded, letting Jenny help him lower the sling and lift the soiled shirt from his chest and over his head. Something that his Omega should be doing, not Jenny. Y/N had to bite down hard on the inside of her check, the urge to tell the Alpha to get the fuck out of her house was suddenly almost overpowering, and the slap to the face that Beau was basically letting her strip him in the living room, when he woudln’t even let her take off his jacket fucking hurt.

Here she thought that Jenny was trying to force them together. Now she felt like she was shoving herself in the way.

“Come on,” Jenny pressed, helping Beau stand to his feet as she looked around the small space towards the bathroom. “Let’s get you showered and cleaned up, you don’t need to sit here with this blood on you.”

Beau’s eyes drifted towards where Y/N was standing, leaning against the front door. What she was feeling inside, the hurt, the turmoil, the utter fucking slap of it all, must have been showing on her face, because Beau carefully shrugged out of Jenny’s grip, and lowered his gaze.

“I think I can handle that from here,” he announced, careful to keep his head down and his voice low, but Jenny wasn’t slow by any means, and caught the hint right away, looking towards where his gaze had been just a moment before to find Y/N standing there, with her own head lowered, and suddenly very interested in the floor under her feet.

“Oh, OH, fuck I’m sorry. I need to get out of you guy’s hair.” Jenny gasps, backing away from Beau as if he was contagious, as she turned to Y/N, who still stood rooted in her spot. “I really am sorry Y/N, I did it without thinking. I just— he’s my partner at work, and I’m to having too—”

“It’s okay Jenny,” Y/N silenced her by holding up her hand and stepping away from the door so that the blonde could leave. “It’s not like he belongs to me, and the likelihood he ever would is almost non-existent. If you want to stay and help him, I’m not going to stop you. Hell, he wanted to go with you a few minutes ago, and—”

“No,” Jenny said, turning around to glare at Beau, who suddenly became very interested in his feet again, refusing to make eye contact with either female. “He’s staying right here. I’m not going to get into your business Beau, because I said that I wouldn’t in the hospital today, but you guys, him especially, need to work this out. You’re his true mate, whether he wants to admit it or not, you both know it, and he needs to man up and do what his instincts are telling him to do and stop being a little bitch about it. That being said, he’s staying right here.”

“So much for not getting involved,” Beau mouthed behind her, and she turned again to glare at him, causing the Alpha to look at the floor again.

“I’m going to leave before I hurt him,” Jenny said, turning to Y/N again. “If he gives you any shit call me, and I’ll take his ass back to the hospital myself, where I will embarrass the shit out of him by telling the entire hospital he couldn't bring little Beau up to bat, so now he’s back here.”

Y/N had to repress the smirk, cause she was pretty sure Jenny would do it, and judging by the mortified look on Beau’s face, he was too.

“He’s meds are in his duffle,” she called over her shoulder as she made her way towards the door, giving Y/N a quick pat on her shoulder as she exited, leaving Beau and Y/N alone once again, this time Beau standing shirtless in the middle of the floor with his arm held in a sling like position, and dried blood on display on his side and chest.

“Look,” Beau said as soon as he was sure that Jenny was out of ear shot, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “I just— I just need you to help me through the next few days, and then I’ll be on my way. I don’t think I’m going to go into rut, at least I don’t feel like I am. I just can’t get this off of me without your help. I know you want to throw me in a corner, and pretend I’m not here, which I don’t blame you for that at all, but I can’t even get this fucking bandage off to get in the shower. I need help. Whether I want to admit that or not. Give me a few days and I will call Carla. She was my first Omega, and by law, if she will agree to take me in, I can go stay with her and Em, and there will be no repercussions on you. Then you will be rid of me. Can you just please help me for a few days? If not, and you really don’t want me around here, I’ll go check myself back into the hospital, and tell them it was my choice. Either way, I’ll make sure your hands are clean.”

Y/N ran her hands down her face before she glared back at him, angry, hurt, and fuck if every time he opened his mouth it didn’t just make things worse.

“It’s not that I don’t want you around Beau. Hell, I tried to help you take your jacket off just now, and you growled at me! So how do you expect me to help you if you wont even let me touch you!!!” Y/N yelled, and Beau flinched. “You’re the one who rejected me Beau, not the other way around. I woke up alone in that trailer, and then was handed a Goddamn Plan fucking B pill because YOU did not want me to come up pregnant, and mess shit up for whatever obsession you have with Carla, or Jenny, or whoever the fuck! But DO NOT come and blame this all on me, like I’m the one rejecting you, because that’s not what happened AT ALL, and I will not be made out to be the bad guy in this while you play the victim!”

Beau said nothing, he just looked down at his feet, and slowly sank down on the couch.

“NOW,” she continued to kick him while he was down, but honestly, it’s what he deserved after what he did to her, used her, then tried to make it out like all this was HER fault. “I will help you, IF you will let me. I’m not a heartless wretch like you are. I’m not out here to just USE you like you used me. But if you leave, if you walk out that door with Carla, don’t come back. If you go back to the hospital, don’t come back. If you go into rut, better order a toy, cause you won't use me again. Period. You are under my roof until you can legally leave, or find somewhere else to go, you will do what I say, and nothing more. I’m not a fucking rut bunny, and I wont be put through that again. End of story. That’s not up for debate. My house, my rules. You’re free to leave if you want too. I’m not going to hold you here, but I’m also not going to put myself in a position to get hurt again.”

“I never wanted to hurt you Y/N, I—”

“Well, you fucking did Beau, end of story. I don’t really want to hear what your reasons are right now. Now, sit still and I’ll take the bandages off. The clean towels and clothes are in the little bathroom pantry as soon as you walk in. You can bathe yourself.”

Beau did not argue, he just sat still and silent as Y/N worked to carefully remove the bandages from the stitched bullet wounds on each side of his shoulder. She couldn’t help but feel that she’d just drawn a battle line in the sand, and stupidly threated an Alpha to cross it, but she had to protect herself and her own wellbeing at this point. He might be biologically her true mate, but right at that moment, he was not her friend, and he was not her mate. Period. He would have to do a lot of crawling and a lot of groveling to change that, and even then, some things that are broken just can’t be put back together.

Forever:

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deepperplexity · 1 year ago

Text

Prompt: 11. Imperfect Holiday [D1]

Pairing: Gruber x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Setting: Train heading north through the English countryside

Continuation of: RICKMAS2022 Prompts 14. Icy Roads & 15. Frosty Glass

A/N: It’s been a year! Well, three days short of a year but still a year! And I’ve had so many messages, lots of asking about Hans and Anna-Louise — how it turns out, if she finds out who he really is, how she reacts to it if so, and everything else. I’m honestly so thrilled this story caught so many darlings’ attention and I’m more than happy to continue this story. As I write this it’s 16.09 the 10th of December and I’ve yet to actually start writing - the past few days have been hectic and my little one has been sick so there’s been need of extra cuddles which hasn’t allowed me to write until now. But I’m excited! (Continuing this note after I’ve written the fic…)

Okay, so, this turned out to be bloody long - again, why do I do this to myself? Especially on days I have so little time 😅👍 I’m very happy with the continuation of this story though, and in true Hans x Anna-Louise spirit, there will be one more part this RICKMAS - two parts, just like last year, and I’ll probably make it tomorrows prompt actually - why not? It matches up well and I’m sure to have a bloody war with the keyboard yesterday as well given I tend to make these fics longer. WORTH IT THOUGH! 🙈👏

Tags/TW’s: Different Lifestyles, Running Away (technically), Self Doubt, Forehead Kisses, Kissing, Caring, Hand Holding, Being Spoiled A Little, Falling In Love, Unmarked One Bed Trope, Motion Sickness, H/C, Patient MMC/Anxious FMC, Following One’s Heart, Secret Identity

Recap of last year’s fics: Anna-Louise (Lulu/Schnuki) Humphrey met Hans Gruber a snowy evening when he pushed her out of the way of an oncoming car while she were slipping around on an icy road in the middle of her run-down hometown. He captivated her with his handsome features and eyes that seemed to truly see her, and he was in turn captivated by her, seeing much potential and sweetness.

When they met again at the little café where Martha (the old lady with a fat dog and a cane she liked to swat at peoples legs) exclaimed him to be a handsome gentleman while Anna-Louise did all she could not to die of embarrassment at the old lady’s choices of conversation they ended up talking about her coming with him. Anna-Louise told Hans that was how to get kidnapped one-o-one but Hans pointed out he felt they were far more than mere strangers.

All her life she had been treated like a nuisance, a person not even worth mentioning by her full name — sometimes just as blabber missy even — and she had longed for years to leave. But she’d been frightened, fearing she’d end up a lonely puddle of anxiety more than anything. Yet, Anna-Louise ended up running to the train station at nine in the evening, hoping he would be there, and of course, he was. They left the poor little town together on the train heading north after sharing a toe-curling embrace where Hans kissed her forehead while calling her Schnuki and his sweet treat…

Word Count: 4.9k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

The train lurched into action and my stomach dropped. I was a silly-nilly, a delulu Lulu truly. It’s all gone pear-shaped now, hasn’t it? Dad won’t make it without me, sis will be a furious mess for him to deal with when Ferdinand’s litter box needs cleaning and when he needs his weekly bath with the oils and nobody will do the laundry, and the bins, it’ll pile over and— But my eyes went to Hans at that moment — sitting opposite me in a private cabin with red chequered seating and walnut furnish — and my rampant thoughts calmed down.

He watched me, his undivided attention fully on me. I wanted to squirm under his clear eyes yet I remained still, feeling wholly seen and wanted by that mere look of his. “Is my mind in a hoax with my eyes?” he asked, making me scrunch my brows. “I can’t believe you are actually sitting there, here, with me.” My cheeks burned at his words, spoken in that German accent of his. “I can’t believe it myself to be honest. I feel… Stupid.” “Stupid?” he asked, his eyes widening while his brows shot up. “This is a thing of romance movies and hostage situations, perhaps a police chase movie with bombs and exploding train tracks that’ll force the passengers to jump into the snow at break-neck speeds and run for their lives or—” I clamped my mouth shut. “Sorry, rambling again…”

Hans tilted his head, one leg crossed over the other with his coat only resting atop his shoulders, watching me with a small smirk. He was too bloody handsome. My very bones felt warmed by that daftly charming smirk. It wasn’t as devastatingly chaos-wrecking as his smile though. I liked both equally either way.

“You are worried, no?” he asked. “Worried?” “Well, you said it yourself, we are strangers and it is kidnapping one-o-one for a woman not to go anywhere with a stranger, especially a man. Yet,” he held out his hands, “here you are. Having boarded a train taking you anywhere.” The fact he remembered exactly what I’d said had my heart performing a stutter before my mind kicked into gear. “Not anywhere, last station is Durham, I’ve wanted to take this train many times. Not that I ever thought I would, I kept track, pun not intended mind you, but I never thought I’d actually get on, you know? Where would I go? I have nowhere to go, never had anywhere to go, and why would I leave when my family needs me,” I rambled on, my nerves getting the better of me again. Stop, stop, just, stop, or he’ll kick you off the train before you can say you’re a blabber missy. God, I’m so annoying.

“Well, you are correct, schnuki. The last station is Durham. The rest of your words, I can’t deem as right.” “What? Why?” “You have everywhere to go, many things to see and experience. Your family treats you poorly and I, for one, do not accept someone as bright and sweet as you to be kept bound to such a terrible fate. Cat claws and mints, doing other people’s bidding at all times.” He watched me most intently as he spoke, goosebumps travelled down my spine when he spoke of doing other people’s bidding, the words felt two-fold for some reason I couldn’t wrap my thought-riddled head around.

“You’re rather blunt, you know.” I thought that from the very start so maybe it’s a trait of his? Or a German thing? Martha would have a field day if he were to join for crisply burnt biscuits and cold tea next Thurs— Ah, right… “Schnuki?” I shook my head to focus on the man and not my bloody overwhelming thoughts. “Are you well?” he continued. “S-sorry, just, lots of thoughts.” “Speak them,” he said, leaning back and getting comfortable (at least it looked like it).

I blinked at him for a moment, my hand squeezing the edge of my duffel bag beside me while I did all I could not to weep at those words. He probably thought little of them, but they had me gobsmacked. “Speak them?” “Yes, you know, say them out loud. Is that not the term in England? Works fine in America.” I chuckled while my entire face heated. “Yeah, sure, it’s right but… I talk enough as it is.” “I doubt you could ever talk enough, schnuki,” he said with a deep chuckle.

My face sank, my shoulders slouched and I felt a million utterances of blabber missy and shut it, Lulu attack me from within. From the past. The very, very recent past. But Hans wasn’t like that, he wasn’t some prick spilling poppycock into my ear or forcing me to do something I didn’t want to do. No, he made me do something I’d dreamt myself blue about.

The plush bench beneath me sank on my left side, Hans sat right next to me and I hadn’t even noticed he’d moved. His hand enveloped mine, my eyes turned wide while he squeezed my still-scratched-up skin — Ferdinand was probably at the top of the tree now, swatting at tinsel and knocking off the star at the top while I was nowhere in sight and I wasn’t sure how it made me feel knowing the feral kitty wouldn’t be fully cared for. Would he end up on the street or could I at least count on sis keeping him, and feeding him?

“You are brave, my sweet treat,” Hans said. “I will not allow you to squander your life away any longer, understand me?” he continued and I gulped down a breath before nodding, my constant stream of words quiet for the moment. My insides were in shambles over the sudden close contact though, he was so warm, and he smelt like mint— No, not mint, menthol. Menthol and ginger, and something… something else I’ve never smelt before. “Speak those thoughts,” Hans said beside me. “You smell good,” I blurted out without thinking first.

My ears were given a cacophony of his laugh, deep and rumblingly loud — it was perfect. “You smell like a treat,” Hans said and smiled at me after he’d stopped laughing. “A sweet treat.” “Oh, it’s my shower gel, it’s scented like gingerbread cookies.” “Ah, yes, that’s the smell, partly at least. There’s more to it though.” “More?” “Yes, something incredibly sweet,” Hans continued and we fell silent as our eyes locked. His were so clear, so open, and endlessly bright with sprinkles of grey within the blue I hadn’t noticed before. Blimey, you’re perfection… “I’d say that’s you,” he said softly and I blinked. “Did-, did I say that aloud?” He chuckled and leaned in, kissing my temple, while he rumbled a deep “yes”.

My cheeks burned, feeling bloody mortified and flustered. “Oh,” I managed and he squeezed my hand. “You have the brightest of voices, schnuki. Speak as much as you need,” he assured and what on earth was I supposed to think of that? Nobody had ever said such a thing before, my voice was annoying and far too shrill, and used too often too — ask anyone, I’m a blabbering nuisance.

We fell into a stiff silence, but he never let go of my hand and the train chugged onward toward the north with the winter wonderland hidden in darkness outside the window only reflecting the inside of the space we sat in. Hans urged me to get some sleep, we were apparently a few hours away from our stop, but how could I possibly sleep with adrenaline and nerves turning me into a mess? I felt a sandwich short of a picnic, as if I’d gone completely bonkers — the entire situation was madness, and what if it all went to pot? Dad and sis would take the Mickey out of me if I returned home after a few days, they’d know I tried to get away and have a laugh at my uselessness…

Hans had already drifted off to sleep beside me, his hand softly clasped around my smaller one while my entire body gravitated toward his. He was warm, sturdy, and I couldn’t help but lean against him while my eyelids drooped. It was close to midnight I think when I finally dozed off, my head still spinning with questions and worries of all kinds.

***

Hans called my name just as I chased Ferdinand through the house to snag him up in a towel after his weekly bath. He hissed and roared in a manner no kitty was ever supposed to, I clamped down on him, rubbing with the towel when Hans called my name again. My home evaporated and I found myself back on the train, clamping down on Hans’ hand too harshly. I let go and scooted to the side a bit.

“Dreams?” “Just, yeah, Ferdinand needed a bath and I had to dry him and rub him with a— Oh, you don’t need to know that, sorry,” I said while my voice went from hoarse to its usual state. “The cat?” “Yeah, right, sis’ cat. He’s a feral thing, he’s sweet, but he’s… Sorry…” He nodded and reached out to grab my hand anew, little indents from my nails littered his skin, just beneath his knuckles. “I’m sorry, I-, I didn’t mean to scratch you.” “This?” he asked, holding our joined hands up. “It’s nothing, don’t fret over it, sweet treat,” he continued and kissed my fingers one at a time — I was sent into a burning heaven of warmth by the action.

The train came to a halt and my sluggish brain went into overdrive again as Hans let go of me and stood. “This is us,” he said and the speakers sparked to life with a woman saying “Darlington Station” and then repeated it once more. “We’re off here?” I asked and he nodded while grabbing my bag for me. He had no luggage at all it seemed.

My nose wrinkled at the sight, he walked ahead of me as the doors were too narrow for us both to go through and the lane just as tight. My bag looked beyond cheap when slung over his shoulder dressed with a seemingly incredibly expensive coat, and the Oxfords on his feet paired with the grey linen trousers matched so perfectly that my bag stood out like a ragged reindeer among Arabian horses.

He took my hand the moment we stepped off the train, the station lay nearly deserted so there was no need to stick close yet he kept me right by his side. “I can carry that myself, you know,” I said and he nearly glared at me. “No.” “I’m perfectly capable—” “I’m aware, but just because a lady is capable doesn’t mean she should. You should know how to change a tire, but you shouldn’t have to do it. You are perfectly capable of carrying your bag, but I will not allow it when I can do such a thing for you, schnuki.” “O-oh…” I whispered, my cheeks once more burning hot while he smirked at me and squeezed my hand.

We moved across the street to a car park with snow crunching beneath our feet. Hans released my hand and bent down by a gorgeous car — it was sleek and maroon blue with an air of richness to it. It looked like it hadn’t been parked there for very long though. He dragged his hand by the wheel and produced a set of keys.

“This is yours?” “Rental,” he said. “Allow me.” He opened the passenger door like a gentleman and I slunk inside, keeping my feet outside the door to dunk them against each other not to drag in more snow than needed. The creamy leather smelled divine even if it were terribly cold, my old jeans did little to keep the chill of the seat from crawling into my skin and up my spine while Hans dropped my bag in the trunk and slid into the driver’s side.

The engine purred to life and I buckled up. “Good girl,” he said and gave the strap over my upper body a tug, cinching it across my middle at the same time. “There, perfectly strapped,” he continued with a cheeky grin and began backing out of the lot while I gaped at him.

Hans drove with skill and ease, weaving through the streets, taking several turns along smaller ones with tightly packed buildings dressed in Christmas lights standing on each side before the open road lay before us and my eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. Should have grabbed my motion sickness patches, I thought while my stomach protested and the back of my mouth filled with saliva I struggled to swallow.

“Are we driving far?” I asked, my voice quieter than usual as I gripped the car door to make my body feel a bit more stable, it usually helped the motion sickness a wee bit at least. “Twenty minutes, given the roads are clear. Why?” Hans glanced toward me and his eyes widened. I was probably a bit pale. “Motion sickness,” I said, slightly shamed by being a nuisance once more. “I’ll drive as steadily as I can. Is it speed, turns or the motion in general?” he asked and I gaped at him, feeling like my jaw got too much exercise since I met him. The care and interest he showed in everything regarding me was insane. “Acceleration and unsteadiness,” I confirmed to be the worst parts for me. “But you drive really well.” “I’ll do my best to keep steady, schnuki.”

Hans eventually slowed down when we entered a narrower street lined by giant trees void of greenery. It was still pretty though. “Here we are,” he said and steadily slowed down before making a smooth turn into a giant estate with several brick buildings. It was absolutely beautiful but truth be told I just wanted out of the car to breathe some fresh are and stave off the motion sickness. The red sign at the end of the driveway dressed with garlands and twinkling lights said Headlam Hall, Rural Resort & Spa in golden letters.

I was out the door as soon as the car stood still. Hans came around and stroked my back a few seconds later while I breathed deeply to take away the worst illness. The fresh air was wonderfully clean and crisp. A faint scent of cinnamon and hay lingered within it and I honestly couldn’t say I disliked that particular smell. Smelled like Christmas on the countryside.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, his care beyond sweet. “Yeah, just need some air, it’ll pass in a few minutes. Sorry for being such a nuisance, Hans.” “Don’t say such a thing.” He looked almost offended at the words. “What thing?” “You are in no way a nuisance. Had I known I would have procured some pills for you.” “That’s my responsibility, I have patches at home, crazy how well they work for me without side effects. Should have grabbed them, but I packed so fast. Martha got them for me, some Chinese shop had them when she was in London visiting her sister. They’re bloody brilliant really, the pills always make me drowsy for over a day, and I— Oh, sorry, rambling,” I said and stopped myself from spewing more unnecessary words by taking a deep breath. “Stop gifting me words in your sweet voice only to apologize for it,” Hans said gently and kissed my temple. I shivered in my thin, tattered jacket and he fetched my bag while I tried to steady my legs — if it were his sweetness or the motion sickness making me wobbly I couldn’t really tell.

I was in some form of an awed daze while Hans led me inside the three-story brick building covered in vines that still held their leaves even in winter. The building was beautifully decorated with fairy lights around windows and the roof, with a blanket of snow all around it looked like it was taken out of one of those Christmas rom-coms where they needed to save the inn only to end up falling in love and living happily ever after (after some sappy words or cringe-worthy kissing scene).

The reception area was spotless, a beautiful mix of modern and classic English style that made me feel completely misplaced. It was rich, luxurious, and far beyond anything I’d ever dreamt of experiencing up close. Unlike the little café in my hometown with its tacky santas, plastic garlands, and altogether jumbled decorations this place was stunningly decorated in red and gold with real trees and boughs. I felt truly out of my depth. But Hans, well, he moved with an air of belonging to him, his strides confident and his whole look made it feel as if it were an obvious thing he belonged in such surroundings.

I kept looking around, nearly twisting my neck off to see without moving my legs, and Hans got our room sorted and declined any attempts of the receptionist to ring for someone to show him to it. He ended up leading us through the building, past a modern bar with a burning fireplace and sitting area next to it, through a big room with several seating areas, up some stairs, and through some hallways. It was as if he knew where he was going, as if he’d been there before. I merely followed like a lost puppy.

The room was stunning. Absolutely gorgeous with hints of tweed fabric, deeply rich wooden furnishing, and pale beige and white fabrics that soften it all. Tasteful Christmas decorations were placed in perfect spots and there was even a little hearth in the room, with two winged-backed chairs and a little table in front of it as well as two stockings hanging from the mantel. The giant four-poster bed screamed for me to lay down but the bathroom off to the side called for me even more.

Hans came up behind me, setting my bag on the floor before wrapping me in his arms, holding my back toward his front while my heart hammered as if I were some silly little schoolgirl with an irrevocable crush and filled with unruly hormones. “How about a bath before bed?” he rumbled by my ear and I nodded, lost for words by how closely he held me. “I’ll sort the room and you go relax, schnuki. Take a bath, and then we’ll turn in for the night.” “Sounds good,” I managed to say while he kissed my temple quickly before letting me go.

I ended up taking a long shower rather than a bath. I was too tired to wait for the tub to fill and it felt like a waste when I hadn’t the energy to really enjoy a long soaking. Hans didn’t bother me, even if I had left the door unlocked. As I dried my hair, while wrapped in the lushest of white robes, my tired body began to tremble. My hands worst of all while my legs felt like overcooked spaghetti strings beneath me.

I sank down on the chair by the claw-footed tub, squeezing the towel in my hands to try and stop the shaking. I left. I really left. And I’m in a spa resort, with a German bloke I don’t know. I’m a bloody moron for all of this. Am I completely daft? I’m usually not some muppet, but this is beyond stupid. I can’t even get home if I want to, not that I want to. I don’t want to, why don’t I want to go home? Shouldn’t I want to be with my family and all that good old hometown fluffing people always talk about? Especially during Christmas no matter that I know it would be a more than imperfect holiday, a disaster as usual, with things for all others and none for me but those from Santa that really are just from me to me. I'd probably end up wailing in bed with my face pressed into the damn pillow, just like every year...

A knock at the door interrupted my, rambling, pittyfull thoughts. “Yeah?” “Are you dressed?” he asked. “I’m in a robe.” The door opened the next second and I did all I bloody could to stop my hands from shaking and my face from betraying my anxious state. “Schnuki, my sweet treat, are you alright?” Hans asked while he stepped up to me, sinking to one knee while wrapping up my hands, still holding the wet towel, in his. “I’m— Well— I am, I am but, I’m not. I should be, and I am, but not really no.” I made no sense.

“Let’s get you to bed, you need sleep. Did you eat before meeting me?” “No, no Dad had his pals for poker and sis had me running to the shop for a new lipstick and then I packed, and I tried to make sure Ferdinand would have enough food and I did his litter box, cleaned it fully and put new sand and everything and I took out the trash and started a load of laundry and then I packed, and I cleaned my room and stripped the bed so—” “Schnuki, my sweet treat, calm down for me,” he said and cupped my face with his hands, his eyes holding mine steadily while I stopped rambling; in a rush to explain myself to the best of my capabilities so he would understand why I hadn’t eaten.

“There’s a silk pyjama on the bed for you,” he said, talking softly as if I were some delicate thing needing gentle care. “I’ll order some room service and you’ll eat before we sleep. Eggs and bacon, sound good?” “Y-yeah,” I exhaled, feeling all degrees of spoiled and pampered, cared for, and baffled by the warmth it filled my stupidly thundering heart with. I’m such a silly-nilly… I couldn’t help but wonder if I had been right two days ago, about Christmas being the time for kindness and care, perhaps this Christmas would be one like that for me?

“Alright then. I need to make a call, I’ll be on the balcony.” “There’s a balcony?” I asked, my eyes widening, and he smirked with a cheeky look. “We’ll have breakfast with blankets out there tomorrow, sound good? The view is fantastic you see.” “Oh, oh yeah, sounds brilliant,” I replied and he kissed my forehead most softly before leaving me to dry off my hair completely. That I wished to know what those lips felt like against my own was a thought I couldn’t quite get to pipe down. I bet he’s brilliant at kissing, nothing like Bobby Parker… I shuddered at the memory of my first kiss, and soon enough my mind ping-ponged like a rabbit between holes in the ground with memories of the kisses I’d had in life.

Bloody hell, I’ve had terrible luck in the love department… Well, the kissing department, I’ve never fallen in love with anyone. Maybe it’s all the blokes unable to kiss making me unable to fall in love. But I knew it was a place thing, rather than anything else. Living in a tiny town had few options lining themselves up, and with my sis being the pretty and popular one I stood even less of a chance. Every bloke I’d ever kissed she’d already been pawing in one way or another only to lose interest.

I hung the towel to dry and left the bathroom only to see the lilac-coloured pyjama set of silk on the giant bed. It looked like pure luxury. I’m supposed to wear that? I couldn’t do it, so I rummaged around in my bag for my old flannel pyjama bottoms and my old Bowie tee washed out completely and worn at the seams with a little hole right where I always fiddled with the hem. I glanced at the lilac silk once more before scurrying back into the bathroom and changing.

I walked over to the balcony door, finding Hans pacing on the other side of the glass in just his linen trousers and white shirt, his red tie still firmly secured too. He looked good enough to eat whole. Don’t be daft, Lulu…

As he paced back and forth I could hear a muffled snippet of his conversation every time he was close to the door. Words of stocks and vaults, then words of exits and insurances. Perhaps he worked on the stock market? Or a bank? He looked the part, like one of those Wall Street blokes you’d see on TV from time to time. Just, less dishevelled and without the crazed look of rapid exchanges needing one’s full attention.

“We will be in and out in four minutes,” he said while stopping with his back toward the door. I saw him fully through the sheer curtains but he hadn’t taken any notice of me. “Alex can crack it, Henry will be in the car and it’ll be smooth sailing. I’m close to Newcastle, picked up a little something special on the way so I’m a day late and will be two days late getting there. Can I trust you to handle getting the team set up and ready to go in four days? Friday’s are checking days, it’ll be stocked.” I wasn’t sure what the bloody hell I was hearing but it sounded important. His voice was so much harder than when he spoke to me, and clipped in a different way entirely. The sweetness and care had vanished, leaving only a decisive deep voice behind. A commanding one at that.

He ended the call and I scurried back to my bag, rummaging through it, pretending to search for something when the door opened and closed behind me. For some daft reason, I wasn’t scared despite the red flag of him being so different on the phone. Nothing about Hans scared me, not even being in the dark about who he was. He was Hans, he cared and he listened. He tended to me and took me away from the place I’d been dreaming of escaping for years but never dared to leave. He saved my life the very first time we met. I don’t know anyone who’d put themselves in harm’s way for others… Especially not any stranger in the middle of the road.

“Schnuki, what’s this?” he asked and I half turned my head, still kneeling on the floor by the foot of the bed with my hands in my bags. “Do you not like my present for you?” he asked with a glance toward the pyjama set. “You bought them?” I asked while straightening, abandoning my pretend hunt. “Yes.” When? “I love them,” I confessed. “But I can’t wear that.” “ That ? Something wrong with them?” “No, no! They’re perfect and pretty and super soft and a beautiful colour and everything,” I rushed out. “They’re just… expensive looking. I don’t wanna ruin them, you know?” “Ruin them? By wearing them as intended?” Sure, when you say it like that it sounds as silly as a goose having shoes and a bonnet.

Hans stepped closer, his eyes roaming over my form hidden beneath the loose, tattered fabric I wore. He tugged me into his arms and I gasped at the sudden closeness. He was still so warm, despite having been out in the cold English winter for several minutes. “Anna-Louise,” he said gently, “you ought to get accustomed to wearing fancy things, and eating good food, being in luxurious surroundings. I won’t have you in anything less than that.” “Hans… What-, what do you mean? I’m perfectly fine with way less, I don’t need all that fancy stuff. I’m used to—” “You’ll get used to better things quickly enough, schnuki,” he interrupted. “Hans, we barely know each other, you can’t lavish me with things like that.” “Don’t say such a thing.” “That I don’t want to be lavished upon like some fancy old lady sitting in parlours sipping tea in expensive silk while waiting for her dear husband to return home from some overseas journey?” I joked while giggling, but he didn’t laugh. “Hans?” “I do a lot of business overseas, would it be terrible of me to wish to come home to you, waiting in pretty silk, after each trip?”

He took a step back while I tried to take in what he’d said. Our eyes locked together and I damn near couldn’t breathe as he looked at me with such longing. “In pretty silk?” I whispered, wholly overwhelmed and wondering what kind of rich man I’d stumbled upon. “All finery imaginable,” he said with a nod. “Why would you want me?” I asked, for the first time posing the question which had been bugging me for a long time without me realising it. “Why would I not want you?” he asked, but before I could ramble a number of reasons, he kissed me.

I melted. He kissed me softly but with urgency, his thin lips perfect against mine. He kissed me so well my foot came off the bloody floor like in a sappy romance movie, I couldn’t help it. Fireworks exploded in my veins, my mind turned utterly quiet and nothing in the world mattered but him holding me close, kissing me with passion and longing leaking out of him with a dark hum while his arms tightened around me.

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Oh boy... this really did turn out to be quite long but gosh I love these two so much I can't help but wanting to write for them - and it's just too much fun too 😂👏 I hope you enjoyed the continuation of this story from last year and as I said above there will be one more part to this story tomorrow! Hope you're excited for even more of these two and the secrets they carry along with the love that's flourishing between them 🥰❤

Q: Would you rather spend Christmas at a big resort, with all amenities, or a small town in a picturesque cottage? 🎄 A: I'll take the cottage - I do love those cosy vibes and I don't mind having to stoke a fire and wear an extra jumper and socks 🥰

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @mamawolfsmith87 @snowblossomreads @ladykardasi @a-queen-and-her-throne @eternal-silvertongued-prince @lyrixsnape @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @daddythanatos

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[Dec:2023]

#rickmas2023 #rickmas 2023 #rickmas #hans gruber #hans gruber x oc #hans gruber fic #christmas fic #alan rickman #rickmaniac

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blueboyluca · 1 year ago

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Puppy update for anyone interested:

Topaz is now 15 weeks. Things have gotten easier now that she is fully vaccinated and can go more places.

I have still done very little in the way of training. It's very hard to find the energy at the moment. I've still got a lot going on in general and it would be nice to have a break, but I can't take leave until October.

Good things:

Topaz and Marcie have gotten closer and now Marcie is soliciting play rather than just accepting or rejecting it. They attended a trial night together and played and chased on the field, which I've never seen Marceline do out there before, so that was nice.

Topaz has a a great drive for food and pretty good drive for toys. I took her alone to my club last night and she was happy to play around with both food and toys. (Of course, not the toy I bought especially for her, but a big fan of Marceline's tugs.)

She is pretty well sorted in the house now. Has still had a couple accidents toileting. Sleeps on the bed now without issue. I still have the crate next to me in case she won't settle but it has only been needed once since I got back from Alice Springs.

She is so far pretty good about walks, if a bit anxious overall.

Not super great things:

She barks at stuff. The three main scenarios for barking are: spooked at movement from afar; spooked at a new person who appears "out of nowhere"; and frustration. It's not, like, terrible, but I am a little concerned about the spooky barking. I'm trying to distract and redirect when it happens. I'd also like to catch her before she starts barking but it's not always predictable. I have a lot of fear about ending up with another reactive dog so trying not to let my stress affect the situation. She's people and dog social still, just spooky at first with both people and dogs. But it's not even with all dogs and people, just in some situations.

She still hates the harness. Not just the putting it on, but wearing it in general. I have limited harness use to the car and walks only. When I can just use the collar and leash I do. (I still don't feel comfortable walking my dogs on just a collar. They're small and their necks are fragile.)

I feel like she has two personalities at the moment. She has this fun crazy wildchild thing going on at home and in some other environments once she's used to them. Otherwise she's flat and a little bit anxious. People keep telling me she's "so good" during these times, but it's not being chill and calm, it's being anxious and quiet. She doesn't show any major signs I'm concerned about, just this overall smallness compared to what I know she's capable of. I have no idea if this is due to my failure in socialisation, or just her personality.

I intend to get back into my routine with all three dogs now that Topaz isn't restricted to the home. That will include morning and evening walks spread amongst all three. I need to work out how I'm going to do training at home as I still haven't quite figured it out. I want to start teaching stationing and turn taking so it's a solid skill for future agility training as well as for easy training at home. Luca and Marcie aren't superstars at either, so I will need to put some more effort in.

#puppy blues #Topaz

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pbandjesse · 2 months ago

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Today was a good day. I hate that I was so anxious about it. There was no reason for that.

I slept. Fine. Not the worst, not the best. I just couldn't find a good temperature and wasn't as comfortable as I would have liked. When James got up I ended up rolling into their side and stretching out but even that didn't help a ton. Just not the best sleep.

I heard James leave. And dozed for another hour. When I got up I was trying very hard to psych myself up. I got dressed and felt fine. I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for breakfast. I wrapped my gift of that tortoise painting for Celia. I put the stickers for the flag house in my purse. I laid on the couch. I waited until it was time to go.

I made the meeting time 10. Which is when their museum opens. It is only 7 minutes away but I still left around 940 because I was so nervous about parking. But I would luck out again and got a great parking space. Which made me way to early. So I just chilled in the car for a bit.

I would finally walk over. I stopped to take some pictures of my sticker outside so I could make a post on Instagram about it. And then I was going inside. And they were so excited. They gave me a check. And we talked about the process and the images and their hopes for the future. It just made me feel so happy. Chris, the man who had originally commissioned me, said that when they send out their newsletter my sticker is going to be the first big topic about the gift shop. Amazing. I counted out the stickers to make sure they were all there. And I actually had 53 instead of just 50. So I would keep 1. Which made me very happy. I'm so glad I got to work with them and I hope I can keep finding these opportunities.

I would leave there a few minutes after I got there. And stopped at the little free library and got James a book about modern art masters. Which seemed pretty sweet. And decided I would go to second chance to see if they had anything for the baby room.

I was annoyed with myself when it realized I didn't have my earbuds in my purse. I was going to have to raw dog the store with my own thoughts?? Terrible. But I ended up having a few sweet little conversations with the old guys in the store. And it would be fine. I didn't find anything I wanted to buy but it was fun to look around. Even if I got sweaty and felt tired pretty quickly. So I went home.

When I got back here I would hang out with sweetp and had some yogurt and laid on the couch. I was meeting with Celia at 1. So I had time to just chill.

I had been wearing my doc marten boots for the morning (I'm trying to break them in) but they really hurt my feet so I knew I would be changing for the afternoon. But I chose my doc marten sandals which honestly aren't much better and I would still end up with blisters. Stupid. I should have worn socks but it's fine. I would mainly be fine.

I would take a very bizarre way to the zoo because I missed my exit. Oops. But I still beat Celia there. I waited for her outside the entrance. And was able to use my BMI membership card to get us in for free! So that was exciting. I would still end up spending $40 but it's for her birthday so it's fine.

We started with penguins. And then to see the bears. Which me and James had missed on Monday. I think that's what I enjoyed the most, we got to focus on different stuff. And I really had a lot off fun.

We got lunch. And I made a last second decision to get pizza but I regretted it and would end up wrapping most of it in napkins to put in my purse. I really enjoyed the fries. And I got another souvenir cup. And the girl in the back yelled over to me that she made sure I got the lion one!! She kept saying it and it was hilarious to me and made it worth it.

We had a nice meal though and continued on. Celia kept saying I was moving to fast because I was moving from window to window to try and catch the animals but she would literally run to stuff when she thought something was happening so it was just funny. We would get to see the elephants respond to calls. And deer in their enclosure which they chased. We had great otter action. And the bobcat! I really had a good time. We went in the aviary too which was really nice. We spent a lot of time on birds honestly. But it was really great.

We overheard a weird conversation with a girl who apparently works at the Huston zoo. She was chatting with a volunteer and made a snotty comment about how much better her zoo is. And like yeah I've heard great things but also, you aren't be a very good ambassador? You being snotty isn't making me want to try and see your zoo. But whatever. We got away from that pretty quick.

We made sure to see as many turtles as we could. Celia works with turtles now so it was fun getting to what she knew about different ones. And I was having fun but my feet were starting to hurt and I was running out of steam. So we started heading back towards the front.

We got to see the last penguin feeding of the day. Celia got to ask some questions. We got to learn that their oldest penguin is 33 years old!! Which is how old I am!!! Crazy. But it was fun seeing them eat.

We stopped at an ice cream truck on the way out and got milkshakes. Mine was actually a float but they mixed it so it was more like a creamsicle shake but it was still good.

We were going to take the tram back but no drinks allowed so we walked up the hill. Even though I was huffing and puffing a little. I made it and as we were leaving we got to see a raccoon on a trashcan! Which honestly may have been my favorite part. Love a random raccoon walking all over the scarecrows they have set out for Halloween.

Celia walked with me to my car so I could give her the painting gift and she really liked it! Made me happy. I also gave her some rocks. They were nice ones! She gave me a hug and we said goodbye.

I was honestly at the end of my energy. I didn't feel amazing and really really wanted to go home. Of course there was going to be traffic but I made it home by 430.

When j got back here I had a few things I needed to do. Specifically I wanted to finish the best in the teddy bear hospital. I had cut out the hat and pillow that needed to be made. And pulled out my sewing machine to do that. And while I was finishing that James came home. I was very happy to see them.

They jumped in to doing laundry. And I finished the bear and I'm very happy. I sent off some photos to the owner and I hope she likes him too! (She would text me later and said she'll come check him out next weekend at the market!)

I would come upstairs to clean up my nails. Cut my cuticles and filed them into a better shape. And then I took a quick shower. Which made me feel slightly better.

But I mostly just wanted to be in bed. And I would hang out in bed for most of the evening. James would work on their laptop. And come and talk with me. They brought me the package I got in the mail. Which is a little id bracelet but it came in a huge box which I was baffled by and could only laugh at.

Eventually James brought me a cupcake. Sweetp stole some of it and got crumbs everything. James showered. And is now folding laundry. And I am fighting to keep my eyes open. I am tired!!

Tomorrow I'm going to be at the farmers market. And then in the evening I'm going to have dinner with Callie and I'm very excited to see her. It's been to long!!

I hope you all have a great night. Sleep well. Be safe. I love you all. Good night!!

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hoppingonslimjim · 2 years ago

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smoking kills (j. hopper | st)

premise: in which you hate jim’s smoking habit, but jim doesn't really care.

or, you successfully use your puppy-dog eyes on the notorious hardass jim hopper because he's whipped for you

paring: jim hopper x y/n

word count: 2.3k

warnings: none, sfw

etc.: daddy jim hop, that is all

read it on ao3: link

*************

you lay sprawled across the worn-down couch, swaying your feet lazy to the beat that was playing out of the record player. your lips hummed along to the melody as you watched for the door to swing open and for him to come into the door.

any minute now, you sighed, continuing to let the melody control your body.

in all honesty, there wasn't much to do at jim’s house, and you wondered why you opted to spend so much of your time here just waiting for the police chief to come home from his long shifts of protecting and serving hawkins, indiana. you had a perfectly good home with a TV box in the living room and a border collie that absolutely adored you. though, obviously, this question was rhetorical. you were head over heels for the town’s police chief and your boyfriend, jim hopper. you loved even just being in his house, even if he wasn't there, as everything reminded you of him. the whole house was an embodiment of his musky scent, you could wrap yourself in his oversized clothes, and no one would know or judge, and you could indulge in his personal belongings that he would be too embarrassed or refused to show you (like his vintage porno stash or more innocently, the photo’s of his late daughter of who you wished you had the chance to meet).

just as you threw your head back to let escape a bored sigh, you heard the familiar sound of a car rattling up the driveway. your eyes quickly flicked over to the clock next to the fridge, which confirmed your suspicion; it was 6:30. jim was right on time. today was not going to be another one of those days where you wasted away for hours as the police chief had to stay later to do paperwork or entertain the town’s parents’ hysterias.

you switched off the record player and hurried to your feet to greet him right at the door. if you were a dog, your tail would be wagging at concerning speeds right now. in a way, you did feel like a dog, more like an anxious puppy glad to see its owner return home. it was kinda pathetic, but in a cute way, or at least to jim, it was.

the door swung open, and the much larger man immediately scooped you into his arms and held you tight against his body. as you buried your face into his chest, you couldn't help but let your whole body go limb in the safety of his embrace.

“waiting for me at the door?” jim chuckled, “you missed your old man that much today, huh?” he teased, setting you down and taking off his coat.

“yea,” you admitted shyly, your eyes taking in the man that you called yours in front of you. at the very least, he had a foot on you and a hundred pounds. he made you feel small in the best way, in a safe way. his upper lip was home to a dark bushy mustache that you had just gotten used to, mourning the days of his full beard you had the privilege of racking your hands through. and just below his chin was a thich mate of hair peeking through his brown buttoned uniform. when you are tired, you found comfort in snuggling on jim’s chest hair and breathing in his scent.

your daydream of jim hopper was cut short just as it had started by the distinctive flick of the mental lighter and the sound of him rummaging in his coat pocket for his pack of cigarettes. he fished out one cigarette from the pack, hurriedly jammed it between his lips, and brought the flame to the tip of the cigarette to light it. as jim took his first drag, he nodded his head approvingly at the cigarette as to say, i needed this.

you backed away a few steps from him and his cigarette, crossed your arms, and waited for the man to put his eyes back on you instead of his dirty little habit.

“oh please, not today,” the older man moaned, cigarette still pressed against his lips. “i don’t want to, or need to, hear your lectures today, kid.”

“james-” you started

“oh, here we go; we’re already starting with my government name”

“jim!” you huffed, instinctively stomping your foot on the ground like a toddler at the beginning stages of a tantrum. “can you please not interrupt me before i’ve even started?”

“mhm,” the man flippantly replied, crossing the room to dig in the fridge to find a beer to wash down his cigarette with

“we’ve talked so much about this. it really makes me upset, and you know that. i care about you so much, and it sucks to see you throwing your health down the drain like that,” you gestured exhaustly to the cigarette as smoke trailed out of it as it lay perched between jim’s fingers.

“i don’t know what you want me to tell you, kid,” jim sighed, taking another drag and washing it down with a swig of beer. “do you really want to have this conversation for the five-hundredth time?”

you chose not to answer, and instead, you held his gaze, crossed our arms even tighter, and pursed your lips together firmly. the two of you started at each other, neither breaking the newly sanctioned stare-down contest. you were trying to shoot lasers into the man’s eyes, though he wasn’t backing down. maybe it was the military or the years in the police force that did it, but one thing jim hopper was good at was not backing down without a fight.

the two of you held each other’s gaze, with only the tap of one of your feet on the ground or the swishing sounds of the beer in jim’s glass bottle as he absentmindedly played with it. your jaw clenched, and you could feel your heart beating faster and faster. jim, though seemed relaxed, in his element, ready to take on your bratty behavior, or how you saw it, merely stating your opinion, any day.

your eyes squinted, his squinted. when your nose crinkled up, his nose crinkled up. you even felt like your blinks were synced as you never saw his eyes close for a second, and instead, you both held steadfast in the quasi-power struggle.

the reality of the situation came pouring down on you, and your gaze faltered from the older man’s. you were ultimately the one to lose the battle, as you tore your eyes away and threw your head up in the air with a defeated sigh. hot tears started to bubble in the corner of your eyes inadvertently, and you quickly used the edge of your sweatshirt sleeve to wipe them away before jim could notice.

though, of course, he noticed, being the dad he is. jim got out of the chair while rubbing the cigarette out on the ashtray on the kitchen table.

“no,” you whimpered, stepping farther back before the man could console your tears that started to fall. you sighed, roughly scrapping your eyes again and taking a deep breath through your nose and out through your mouth.

you felt pathetic because you were crying, but mainly because of how stupid the reason was. it wasn't a silly reason to you, but certainly to everyone else, including jim. smoking was as accepted as breathing. everyone partook in it and everywhere and didn't even bat an eye at the act indoors, outdoors, etc. as soon as you were old enough, you smoked, or were the small minority of people, like you, who believed that smoking was bad. there wasn't a whole bunch of science to prove your point, but there was enough to conclude that it was at least not a net-neutral action that everyone claimed it to be. the nauseating, nose-curling smell was enough for you to know that something was not good with the cigarettes that so many people found themselves defending

at the end of the day, you cared for jim. you wanted to see him healthy and happy, so his almost pack-a-day addiction started to become more and more apparent and thus concerning the more time you spent with him. maybe one cigarette when needed wouldn't be too bad, as you were fully aware of the stress the man had to endure due to the responsibilities and nature of his job. however, a pack-a-day was downright inexcusable and borderline hazardous. he was already not the fittest man, admittedly (even though you loved his beer gut and large thighs). the cigarettes were not helping anything, but certainly harming

you had reasoned with the man so many times with the information mentioned above, a few instances of tears, and a lot of heated ‘debates’ (more aptly characterized as yelling-matched), and you were starting to feel utterly defeated. you just wanted what was best for the man. why didn't he get that?

“listen, kid,” he sighed, tightly wrapping his arm around your frame and resting his chin on the top of your head. he brushed his thumb over your shoulder and just stood there with you, ever so slightly rocking you as you buried your head into his chest in your last ditch ever to hide your tears. jim, of course, could sense how upset you were, though, and just stood with you silently, swaying back and forth in the kitchen.

in the comfort of his embrace, you quietly let all your tears out, with only a tiny hiccup now and then that gave away your cover.

“i hate how upset this makes you, sweetheart.”

“i hate how upset i feel,” you squeaked.

“you know i can’t just quit cold turkey.”

“i’m not asking you to!” you yelled-whined before quickly cooling your frustration that had abruptly boiled over and burrowing into the man’s chest once again. “all i want is for you not to have one of those stupid things in your mouth every five seconds. i wish you knew how much i love you and how much i want you not to die an early death or something,” you sighed

“you're not getting rid of me that easily,” jim laughed, his thumb soothingly sliding back and forth over your shoulder blades. “i plan to stick around for at least a year, kid.”

you couldn't help but chuckle a little bit at his humor. peering up from his grasp, you wiped your whole face, which was now wet, red, and definitely a little red now. you sniffled a few and steadied yourself to hone in on the more rational part of yourself to have, or at least try, to have a proper adult conversation with jim

“i want you to promise that you’ll try to smoke less. like try only to do a half a pack or something like that, anything like that, please.”

“you know i don’t like false promises, y/n.”

“it doesn't have to be a false one if you actually follow through,” you said pointedly.

jim sighed and took you by the shoulders to peer down into your eyes. “you know how long i’ve been smoking, kid?”

“forever,” you quipped back, mocking his tone of voice a little bit.

“mhm, exactly,” jim responded somewhat sternly, “so i can’t just quit cold turkey or even stop that much, realistically.”

you couldn’t help but grimace at jim’s words. you felt like the conversation was going in circles and circles. like every other time you two had this conversation, it would inevitably end with you two getting all worked up, not talking to each other all night, jim sleeping on the couch, and then you two making it up in the morning. and all of that just for it to happen again, like right now

“but what i can do,” he interjected, noting your defeat, “is to try my best. and that’s all that matters, right, kid?”

you felt your body relax into his hands as he finally cracked.

“i will try for you, and only you, kid, because i love you, even though it seems like i don’t,” the man chuckled sarcastically, rustling your hair with his fingers and bringing you in once again to his chest.

you happily squealed a little bit, this time accepting the embrace by hopper and smiling into his chest. it felt good for jim actually to listen to cries of concern and take you seriously, even though you were much younger and jim loved to remind you that you had barely lived life (and thus not learned a lot of those good-ol ‘life lessons’)

“you better be so glad i love you, kid,” he huffed jokingly, “i wouldn’t agree to your shit if i didn’t.”

“i love you too, hop, and thank you.”

“i hope you know i’m thinking of starting with a one-cig-a-day reduction, nothing crazy, of course. i don’t want to risk falling over and dying, y’know”

you chuckled and rolled your eyes at his dramatics but knew he was being serious. but even one less cigarette a day was a win in your book, and it was comforting for jim to stop being stubborn and thinking he always knows what's best and actually listens to your gripes.

“i love you, kiddo.”

“mhm, love you too,” you mumbled, face pressed tightly into the hair on his chest.

“thank you for looking out for your old man, i mean it, y/n,” he sighed, brushing your hair away from your forehead and planting a kiss on your temple.

“you stubborn little thing, you got me good,” jim laughed into your head as he played with the hair on top of your head.

“yea, get used to it,” you retorted.

jim laughed and tickled the sensitive skin between your arm and shoulder blades as retaliation, knowing you are the most ticklish person to exist. you giggled uncontrollably and wiggled out of his grasp to sprint down the hallway to escape the impending onslaught by jim

#stranger things #jim hopper #daddy jim hopper #stranger things fic

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self-shipping-doll13 · 11 months ago

Text

And the tendency for tenants is secrecy.

Word Count: 1.8k

Cw: death mentions, swearing, paranoia, implications that an unseen person is really not having a good time™️

Noise wasn’t exactly tolerated where I lived.

The crashing of pots made me jump first. A mistake washing dishes knocked just about the entirety of my kitchenware onto the ground… Luckily nothing had been damaged. Then it was the angry fist at my door. Mr. Davidson lived on the same floor as me. He was also the landlord. I rushed to accommodate him.

His reaction was so angry it itched in my skin.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! It won’t happen again…”

“You’re right it won’t!”

I grimaced apologetically, like a dog presenting its belly in an act of submission. A taught behaviour. Quickly, I explained, made promises, and got off on a warning.

This demand of silence bordered on unreasonable.

Of course, that was fine. I could be calm and quiet. The noise rule definitely had its upsides: no rowdy parties (the flats were too small anyway), no thumping music, no loud children shrieking and banging on the walls. It was more than perfect for me. Late at night I’d sit at my desk, restless, listening to car horns blaring outside. Mr. Davidson wasn’t too bad. You got used to it.

My other neighbours were far less unpleasant.

One I ended up liking in particular was as elderly lady named Ms. Adler. She’d hobble up and down stairs unsuited to arthritic knees, clutching her velvety handbag, her feet wrapped in those soft little slippers with pastel petals embroidered over the toes. Always kind and cheerful, offering you a little sweet or a mint and patting your hand in fond chuckling laughter. As if you were her own long lost grandchild.

She lived alone. No one visited her but me.

Ms. Adler came to greet me a few times too. Once when I’d just moved in, and I didn’t know anyone.

It was my first time living alone - in the big city, and my new apartment was a mess of cardboard. When she saw Peaches around my heels, she’d coo and pucker her lips. “Oh, little sweetheart…” Bent down painfully. She actually managed to elicit a curious sniff.

There was a young man who lived here too. He kept to himself. Well… ‘Reclusive’ actually might’ve been an understatement. I barely saw him. A person like that could be easily overlooked or forgotten, scrubbed over with happier, funnier memories. If only he wasn’t so strange - if only our encounters weren’t so awkward.

Months ago: It was still very dark outside, I was leaving early for my appointment, going downstairs. He was going up. Going home? Ah, that was a problem.

Obstructions were pretty common. The stairway was tiny, one-way, ideal for traffic jams, and the lifts were out of order for as long as I’d known them. Lawrence - I only learnt his name later - wore a sweatshirt and had his yellowish hair tied back. The fluorescent bulbs shone his face a sickly cadaverous hue. He gave me a deer-in-the-headlights stare I probably mimicked. No one could have appeared more harmless. I stopped and made an embarrassing noise in my throat.

“Nice plant.” I must’ve been chipper that day. He was gently cradling one I wouldn’t know the name of. The leaves were glossy and vibrant, stained red, like someone had emptied their veins all over it. I imagined they were healthy. “Uh… I’ll get out of your way.”

“…Thanks.” He looked away, grinning. Baring his teeth in a cagey wince. I could even tell he was anxious. A bit of shuffling. I hopped back up the narrow steps.

“Have a good morning.” Not much else for me to say.

“Uh… You too.” And well, that should’ve been that.

But Lawrence didn’t enter his apartment. He stood with one hand clamped around the handle. I realised he must’ve been waiting for me to leave first. So I did.

This was the first time I discovered it was possible to feel someone’s eyes fixated on you. The back of my neck was unguarded, (no scarf, like an idiot) and for an odd moment I feared my throat would be ripped out. Instinctual residue from a distant, herbivore past.

But was I unnerved or simply nervous?

I was on the bottom floor. I lingered. From above me, the metallic symphony of too many locks. Echoing.

My routine was mundane. I was an insect pinned in a glass box. Life here was small and compact that way. And when something was amiss, you noticed it.

Of course you did.

Shampoo, hairties, pens. I didn’t know how I lost things when there was scarcely anywhere for them to hide. I inspected my fridge. Did I still have milk at least?

No. It was all gone. I sucked an involuntary breath in. This reminded me of other things I could’ve forgotten, which in hindsight was a good thing. Because just then I remembered too late the last of the dry stuff I fed Peaches tinkled into her bowl - fuck, how did I let things get away from me so often… I checked again and the bag was still empty. Obviously. Nothing left for the morning. I had to leave early for my lecture, too.

My clock told me it was 1am - I should be asleep now. But I decided on biting the bullet, grabbed my keys and pulled on my jacket, boots and coat. Not my scarf.

January was miserable at the best of times. But the sharp, frozen air outside was strangely refreshing, like a bucket of cold water. I was high on adrenaline, too. The nearest open shop was about a 5 minute walk. I might’ve dozed, since I blinked and I was there.

I trudged up the entrance. Automatic doors slid open with an off note chime. I recognised Lawrence. Not honestly a surprise - I only met him this late at night, the occurrences random, but increasingly persistent. He only spared me a passing glance before he quickly refocused back on the snacks he was holding.

The bright light here was almost nauseating. I found the right aisle, snatched up what I needed and silently joined the queue. Not that it was much of a holdup - but the person at the front was laughing and joking with a cashier who probably deserved a break. Lawrence wasn’t talkative. For now I was glad for it. Something in his quiet lifted the pressure to act fully human.

I sighed and leant against the sweets rack. The colourful packets were borderline hypnotic to my exhausted brain. A dazzling array of yellows and pinks, swirls, funky lettering, anything to lure in those wonderful impulse buys. My lids were about as heavy as lead. God, this guy was taking forever…

I let myself drift away for a bit. My neighbour’s voice was so low and soft, it took a moment to register.

“Excuse me… I need to get past you…”

Startled, I jumped, and regretted meeting his stare. Two icepick eyes boring into me like a lobotomy.

“Oh.” I moved to the side. He disappeared.

Lawrence didn’t come back, so I took his place and bought what I needed. I felt a little embarrassed. Did I really just nod off right in front of him? Jesus.

Exiting, I took a fresh gulp of oxygen, the world outside appeared to have died. Witching hour was upon the city now, silenced and watchful. I could even hear my own footsteps, my boots scuffing on the pavement. I set one before the other. Step, step, step. Never underestimate the crushing weight of silence. Thoughts were swarming around in the hive of my mind.

Future thoughts and past thoughts and everything in between. Assignments, dates, meals. Tossing around in a faulty washing machine. Step, step, step.

The mass of my shopping crinkled. Unease flooded me without reason. Or perhaps I had all the reason; I was alone, so defenceless… Strange tension raked down my upper vertebrae. The fine hairs stood up on the back of my neck, I reflexively whirled to look—

There was no one there. No one I could see.

Skittish, a lone doe in a big metal forest, I felt the urge to hide. I clutched the plastic bag to myself. It would make a lousy weapon, I thought. My heart raced in my chest like it was trying to escape. I made an effort to force it down. Ridiculous. Just the adrenaline…

I walked on, passing under dim yellow streetlights. The city council had updated most of the area with better, more radiant lamps, but this particular block was a bit overlooked. So between the flickering rays lay patches of complete and utter darkness. I sped up, and jumped again when my road was blocked by a motorcycle.

The big scarred biker revved his engine at me. I waved at him nervously and he let me pass. I didn’t care to decipher his wolfish grin. I just wanted to get home.

At the sound of my apartment door opening, Peaches let out a quiet chirp and leapt down from my bed.

The click of the lock told me I was fine and safe now. I stroked her flexible spine, ignoring how my own still tingled. Her tail wiggled in that happy way.

“Yes, this is for you… No, you can’t have it now.”

In my pyjamas, I debated if it was worth it to even attempt sleeping. Not if I crashed too hard too early. My blood was still pumping hard, anyway. So I ended up making this late night one that I never wanted to stop, pushing it and pushing it, until it was 4am and I realised with sinking dread that I only had a few more dwindling, choked out hours until my life resumed.

Everything was more beautiful when you had little time to savour it. Music painted in colours so evergreen. All of the books I’d never open. How thunder rumbled, loud and massive. I realised a heavy downpour was pattering against my windows. I envisioned the rain gathering and dribbling into soil, trickling down bark. The universe was so alive, birthing, living, rotting. Sleep numbed that, at once instant and endless. Just like dying. That might’ve been the adrenaline, too.

That’s when I heard the noise. An ear-piercing shriek, more animal than human. My response this time was to go rigid. It came from my floor. I stared down at it.

Mr. Davidson wasn’t happy. “Shut the fuck up!” I heard enraged stomping. Must’ve disturbed his rest.

I tried to remember who lived just below me… And I hoped they didn’t get it too rough in the morning. Maybe they’d just blasted a horror film by accident or something. The incident left me giggly. Or it might’ve been jitters. I padded over to my fridge and got a coke - a little treat. It bubbled like lava down my throat as I sat back down on my rickety bed, folding my legs.

Returning to my laptop, I imagined my neighbour was staying awake too. The thought was oddly comforting. This dark and secret gap in time was just for us.

Then, a quiet fluttering. A perishing. I looked up. A moth was beating its fragile wings against a bulb. So tiny, this insect boxed into 4 walls. It and I both.

Add flowers - this place might be my tomb.

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

#🪴🔪🫀#my writing

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