#i have family coming to stay this weekend with us so i likely won’t be able to draw even more because you know . family
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i keep saying i am going to draw but i just end up not drawing, these last two weeks have been just terrible for my brain mentally
#i have family coming to stay this weekend with us so i likely won’t be able to draw even more because you know . family#things just have not been great and the one thing i’d like to do to like help me cope in some way is just not happening#i’ve been playing zelda though at least not the new one#botw is very fun so far i’m actually shocked i didn’t remotely try to get this far into it before shdjfkf#the controls jsut were not great for me and they still aren’t but i’m trying my best even though i’m dying all the time whdjfkf#anyway video games .. please allow people to change button schemes to their liking thank you#anyways yeah i am going to try my best to just . draw a bjt maybe ?? i honestly don’t know at this point sorry if i just don’t draw for a#whole month i just shsjdkf things are rough <3 but we’re trying#honestly i might just write more i’ve been in that mood to write but have got nothing#this is just me rambling at this point i’m sorry ahsjfkf
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Why try? | poly! marauders x fem! reader
tag: @staarflowerr @mooonyxoxo @liviessun
fluff / slight angst if you close an eye
word count: 1.5k
chapter one, chapter two, chapter three , chapter 4 will be coming soon
CW: negative self talk, cursing
TW: mention of skipping meals!!! Be safe please bestie 🩷
It’s been a couple of days.
A couple of days of you hiding in your dorm room because you just can’t bring yourself to talk to them. The worst thing is that you can’t even talk about it, because nobody knows that you’ve been dating them.
So your roommates just think you’re going through some type of depression.
Thankfully, being the weekend, you don’t have any lesson to go to, so you can just stay in bed and cry all you want.
You don’t even know why you’re making such a big deal out of a single comment, you are painfully aware that you can’t even fight over this small thing, but it still hurts.
That single comment brought out your first two years in Hogwarts, when nobody really was looking forward to become your friend, when you felt like a wallflower in every social setting, when you felt like somebody to be tolerated, not somebody to be loved.
The problem is, you haven’t eaten in two days, and even though you aren’t necessarily hungry, you know that you’ll have to have breakfast on Monday. You aren’t even sleeping well, this mix isn’t really helping your mood, nor the headache that doesn’t seem to pass. You just hope you’ll feel better tomorrow morning.
“Sirius you can’t just barge into her room, for God’s sake” James was sitting on his bed, head in his hands.
“Yeah, Prongs here is right. We aren’t even here boyfriends”
“So what? We’re gonna ignore the fact that she hasn’t been eating for two days straight and pretend that she is fine? Because she is not, I’m telling you. Remus you told us that she seemed strange in the library, yes?” Sirius was pacing anxiously back and forth in their dorm room. He just couldn’t understand why you had been in your room for two days straight, they thought they should have given you some space, but it was getting ridiculous, and Sirius hated space, he wanted you here with his two boyfriends.
Remus shook his head “Maybe she has been eating? How do you know she hasn’t left her dorm room?”
Sirius blushed “I may or may not have checked the map every five minutes since Friday night, and I wanted to remind you that she hasn’t eaten a thing even then! Herbology my ass, you don’t get that upset over herbology! She’s a little genius, I don’t think she has ever struggled since the first year, I won’t believe she is struggling with some stupid plants”.
James and Remus shared a look. Sirius didn’t usually care that much about anyone apart from them. They suddenly realised that they couldn’t loose you, not when Sirius was already going through so much with his family, he would simply break.
“You’re right Sirius. If you’ve checked, she has to eat. It’s a miracle she hasn’t fainted yet”
“Tomorrow morning. We have potions together, right? We’re gonna talk to her, and we’re gonna fix… whatever this is.”
Except you didn’t make it to potions. You were late, the night before you’re brain just shut down, and you woke up on Monday evening, skipping a day of class and, most importantly, three meals. This unplanned fast was getting ridiculous, even to your own eyes.
You felt a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N” Emmeline was trying to wake you up. “I brought you some food. I don’t know why you’re so upset, I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need to talk to someone, or if you just want somebody to be there for you.”
You sighed. She was the only friend that stuck with you since the first year, and she was an angel; always there for you, always ready to listen and give advice, but you just couldn’t manage to talk about what was going on in your head.
“Thanks Em” You smiled, then she exited the room, and you looked at the plate. You ate something, but you were just too exhausted to finish everything.
You didn’t actually go to class since Thursday.
Truth is, you felt like a coward. You didn’t want to face the boys, too afraid of what they would think of you, of what they would say to you, and every day it got worse. You knew that they thought you were avoiding them, and you weren’t even sure why you were doing so, but every time you tried to get up and go outside, you just couldn’t.
Each day, Em would bring you something to eat, you just took a bite of everything, not really finishing the food you were given. Everyday, Em would tell you about how the marauders were looking differently, and how they stared at them throughout the meals, and you really felt guilty.
So, even though you skipped breakfast, having woken up late, you decided to go to class and to talk to the guys, at least to try to. You didn’t want to end something that didn’t even have the chance to start just because you were overthinking.
You were walking to the Great Hall when all of the sudden your vision became blurry, Em was telling you something about the upcoming herbology test, when every sound became sort of muffled, and your head suddenly felt so heavy, and now your legs weren’t cooperating anymore, and then you just fainted.
The marauders, which were catching up to you in the corridors, saw you falling to the ground, and suddenly they didn’t give a fuck about your brother anymore. He wasn’t there to help you anyways.
“Y/N!” Sirius rushed to you, Em staring at him with wide eyes.
Remus was quick to raise your legs in the air, while Sirius promptly made sure that the position wasn’t suddenly flashing the whole student body, while making sure you were smelling his strong cologne, putting your wrist under your nose. James was running to Madam Pomfrey.
Little by little, you started to gain consciousness. You didn’t make sense of the situation at first, so you just nuzzled into Sirius touch.
“Love, have I ever told you that I love your cologne? It smells really great, I want to bathe in it” You looked up at him dreamily. He chuckled.
“Well, sweetheart, thank you. You could have told me so without having to faint, giving me an heart attack.”
And then you realised the position in which you were in. You were in the middle of the corridor.
The students were all looking at you.
Em and Aurora were looking really funny, Em with her eyes open wide, Aurora practically fuming.
But Remus didn’t give you the time to think about this, hauling you in his shoulder and rushing to the infirmary.
They hauled you on a hospital bed, James and Poppy waiting for you.
“Well, what happened?” You tried to speak, but the boys didn’t let you.
“She fainted in the middle of the corridor. She hasn’t been eating for five days” You looked down, embarrassed. How did they know?
“I actually did eat a little” Sirius rolled his eyes.
“I think we have a diagnosis. You’re a smart girl, you should know better than to starve yourself. If you feel like it, I think you should go have lunch. I don’t think we have to conduct further examinations, if you don’t have anything else to tell me?”
You shook your head.
“Is it okay if I carry you, darling?” James looked down at you softly. You blushed, nodding.
So he carried you, and you made your grand entrance: James carried you in his arms bridal style, Remus and Sirius walking at your sides. You could hear the students gasping, a buzz suddenly starting to raise in the common room.
The boys ignored it, sitting you next to them, their friends eager to get to know you.
“So you are the famous Y/N!” Peter was smiling at you, you blushed.
“How do” You cleared your voice. “How do you know my name?”
The boys and their friends started laughing. “How could we not know your name? They’re talking about you 24/7!”
“You should have seen Sirius this weekend, he was so tense that we barely could stop him from lashing out on a poor first year” Lily was smiling, you looked over at Sirius, who was feigning ignorance.
Remus filled your plate with mashed potatoes, some kind of meat, lots and lots of veggies and definitely too much bread.
“Eat. First you eat, then you talk. Please?” You nodded, feeling slightly ashamed, he looked really concerned, they all did.
“So anyways, how did you guys meet? And, most importantly, how come an angel like you got herself tangled up with them”
James shoved lightly Regulus, who was grinning, while you nearly choked on your food.
“Leave the poor girl alone, will you? You already know everything about how they met her, her eyes were sparkling in the sun and she had this-“ At this, they all said in unison “pink sundress flowing lightly and her hair were put in a perfect ponytail”
You could feel your ears burning, the guys all smiling at your shyness.
#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders angst#slight angst#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders fic#james potter#sirius black#remus lupin#remus x reader#sirius x reader#james x reader
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Drill Lessons
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
Natasha shows you how to use a power tool and your mutual crush comes to light
Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (N and R receiving)
Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist
To you, Natasha Romanoff is the most beautiful woman to ever walk the earth.
You’ve been wanting to tell her for months that you like her. Ever since you joined the team you’ve had feelings for her. But you can’t get a read on her.
You have no idea if she has feelings for you too. Sometimes it feels like she’s flirting with you but then you see or hear her act the same way with one of the guys and you brush it off as nothing.
This weekend Clint invited everyone to his farm to enjoy a quick getaway and clear your heads. Missions hadn’t been easy lately, so you all needed the reprieve.
When you arrive, Natasha walks in the house first. She’s clearly very comfortable here.
“Welcome!” Laura says to everyone. “Come on in. Make yourselves at home!”
“Thank you for having us, Mrs. Barton,” you say when you greet her.
“Oh please, called me Laura,” she says. Then she addresses everyone, “We don’t have enough rooms so you’ll have to share. Nat, can y/n sleep with you?”
You try not to have a visceral reaction to the idea. You hold your breath as you await her reply.
“Sure,” Nat simply says. She turns to you, “I’ll show you the way.”
You follow her up the stairs where you run across a couple of kids.
“Auntie Nat?” A girl asks, in shock of seeing Nat.
“Hey malyshka,” Natasha replies. She brings the girl in for a hug. “Lila, this is y/n. Hopefully you won’t discover you like her more than you like me.”
You smile and wave to Lila. She returns the smile before running off downstairs.
Nat takes you down the hallway and to what appears to be her bedroom when she stays here. There are photos of the Barton family and Nat on the dresser. You admire how happy she looks here.
“I always sleep on the door side, but we’ll do whatever you feel comfortable with,” Nat says.
“Oh, either side works for me.”
Nat nods. You set your bag down on the bed and unpack a few things. Natasha moves around the room, gathering a few of her own things.
You both go back downstairs for the rest of the evening. Nothing too eventful happens. Everyone makes plans to spend time outside tomorrow.
Natasha is first to the bedroom. She slips into the bed casually. You try to do the same but fail miserably at not looking nervous.
“I don’t bite, you know,” Nat says teasingly.
“Right,” you respond too quickly. “I just- sorry.”
“Relax, y/n,” she says. You settle on your side of the bed. “Goodnight.”
“Night, Natasha.”
You both drift off into a peaceful sleep. You first, and then Natasha.
At some point during the night, you end up snuggling close to Natasha. She wakes up to the feeling of your arm draping over her. But she doesn’t mind it. Actually, she likes it.
When you wake up in the morning, you find yourself still nestled in her arms.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, trying to move off of her.
“Hey, it’s fine,” Nat says, only tightening her grip a bit before letting you loose. “So, you’re a cuddler, huh?”
You look away shyly and Nat just smirks. Now you definitely can’t believe you slept next to Natasha and accidentally snuggled with her all night. She doesn’t say anything else about it until you go downstairs for the day.
“Good morning!” Laura greets. She’s pulling fresh biscuits from the oven. “How did you sleep?”
“Good,” you answer briefly.
“She sure was cozy,” Nat interjects. It’s just Laura in the room with you two, but you still try to hold back a blush.
“Mhm, I’m sure,” Laura replies. Somehow you’re sure she knows the way you feel about Nat and how Nat feels about you.
Soon, the boys come tumbling into the kitchen. You all go outside to do your respective chosen activities. Steve promised to show you how to chop wood while Nat and Clint run off to the barn to build a new shelter for some of the animals.
“So, what’s the deal with you and Romanoff?” Steve asks after a few minutes of chopping the wood.
“Oh, is there- is there a me and Romanoff?”
“Is there not?” He asks genuinely. “I’m sorry. I just thought that you two- nevermind.”
“It’s okay,” you reply, shrugging.
It does leave you wondering if the other members of the team think something is happening there too. You try not to think about it too much as you continue to work outside. The fresh air does wonders for you.
Steve asks you to go grab the axe sharpening block from the barn, so you walk to the structure. When you get there, you catch sight of something that makes your jaw practically drop to the ground.
Natasha is wearing only a blank tank top and shorts are she uses a power drill to build a wooden structure. Sweat drips down her neck and chest as she expertly uses the tool.
You swear she catches the sight of you out of the corner of her eye, but she continues on with her drilling. She lifts heavy pieces of wood with ease. You can’t stop staring.
Nat lifts her tank top up to wipe the sweat from her face. You see her ab happy stomach and the sports bra that’s keeping the rest of her skin covered.
“Enjoying the view?” Nat says aloud. You’ve definitely been caught now.
“Oh, I was just-“ you start, but there’s no use. You were doing exactly that. “My bad.”
“Don’t apologize,” Nat says. “Come on in, what did you need?”
“We needed the axe sharpener block thing?”
“Is that a question?”
“Well, I don’t know what it is so yes?”
Nat chuckles. She turns to look at the shelf behind her for the tool you need. Her backside somehow looks just as good as her front.
“Here you go,” Nat says. She hands you the block. You are standing close to her now. “The real fun is happening in there though. I can show you how to use this.”
She gestures to the drill in her left hand, pressing her finger on the trigger to make it whir. You shouldn’t be so intrigued by it. Or by her for that matter. But you are.
“Maybe tomorrow you can show me?” You ask her.
“How about tonight?” Nat asks. Her voice drops an octave. You pray she means what you think she means.
You swallow shyly and Nat shoots you a smile. Slowly, you leave her there and go back to Steve. He doesn’t mention how long it took you to get the tool, thank goodness.
Later that day, you all grill out burgers and hotdogs. Clint tries to show off his grilling skills, but the team just gives him a hard time saying that it’s not all that hard anyways.
By the time evening comes, everyone’s sitting around a campfire. Natasha sits across from you. She glances at her phone and then to you as a way of alerting you to look at your phone.
The text reads: Meet me in the barn. 10 minutes.
You nod in her direction to acknowledge you got the message. The minutes pass by and you both leave to go to the barn.
When you get inside, Nat is already over by the wood she was working with earlier.
“Come on, I’ll show you,” Nat says.
“Okay,” you agree. You stand next to her.
“First things first, always know your surroundings,” Nat says.
She abruptly places her hands on your hips. She easily moves you to the right and left to observe your surroundings. Your heart stops when she reaches around you and her face is mere inches from yours.
She steps back and has a pair of clear glasses in her hand.
“And wear safety glasses,” she says. She places them on your face. You’re sure you look like an absolute fool. “Cute.”
“You didn’t wear these yesterday,” comes your reply.
“That’s because I’m an expert,” Nat says. She surprises you by pinching your cheeks. “You’ll get there, sweetheart.”
Natasha grabs the drill and ushers you to move closer to the wood with her. She takes you through step by step on how to use the power tool.
“Now, you can try,” Nat says.
“Okay,” you reply. You feel a little nervous about trying it. Nat assures you that you can’t mess it up.
You try to focus even with Nat being so close to you. For the first time using a drill, you don’t do terribly.
“Nice job, y/n,” Nat says. “But you’ll want to apply more pressure. Let me help you, sweetheart.”
Natasha places her hand on yours and pushes down on the drill. You pull the trigger and drill the screw into the wood. Her hot breath is on your neck.
You smile at your success and turn just enough to look at Nat. She’s just inches from you.
“Should we take this inside?” Nat asks. Her eyes glance to your lips and back up to your eyes. She brings her other hand to your cheek and brushes the back of it against it.
“Are you- um- yes?”
“Yes? Or yes.”
“The second one,” you say. Natasha smirks at you.
You leave the drill and safety glasses behind. Natasha holds your hand as she walks you to the house. You slip upstairs easily and she closes her bedroom door behind her.
“I’ve had my eye on you for a while,” Natasha says.
“Really?” You ask innocently.
“Really, detka. Come here,” she says, bringing you to the bed with her.
You sit next to her and she kisses you softly. It’s like floating on a cloud. You didn’t think she would be this gentle. But you’re loving it.
“May I?” Nat asks, gesturing to your shirt. You nod. She lifts the material over your head. “Beautiful.”
You feel sure you’re blushing at her words and the way her eyes rake over your body.
“Can I- um?” You pull at her tank top hem.
“Yes, baby,” Natasha says. “You can do anything to me.”
You lift the thin material over her head. Your heart stops at her beauty. You immediately lean forward and take her nipple into your mouth. It surprises Natasha how intentional you are being.
“Fuck, baby.”
“Is this okay?” You ask, pulling away a bit. Nat pulls your head back to her breasts. You’ll take that as a yes.
Natasha fumbles with your pants. She gets them unbuttoned but grumbles in frustration when she can’t get them off. You chuckle against her.
“Okay, hold on,” Nat says. She stands up and pulls her own pants down before grabbing you by the hips and pulling you up too.
Natasha takes your pants off with ease this time and slips them down your legs along with your underwear. She grins and drops to her knees. It doesn’t take her long to get to work licking and sucking at your pussy.
“Oh my god,” you moan out.
“You taste so good, baby. All for me,” Nat says.
“Fuck.”
You feel close to coming embarrassingly quickly but Natasha is proud of her work.
“Come for me, y/n,” she says. Her voice drips with sex.
“Fuck, Natasha!”
You come hard against her tongue. She licks you clean and stands back up. She kisses you deeply. It’s the most on fire you have ever felt.
“I want to taste you,” you tell Nat.
“Your wish is my command,” Nat says. She lays on the bed and you crawl over her body.
“So beautiful,” you say as you kiss from between her breasts down to her hips.
“You’re not so shy now are you?” Nat asks. You answer by diving into her wet pussy.
Her folds are slick and she’s ready for you. You lick and suck her, cherishing every noise she makes.
“Fuck, baby,” Nat says. “I’m going to come.”
“Come for me, Natasha.”
She does just that. You relish in the sounds she makes. You move back up her body and lay next to her.
“So, all of those times I thought you were flirting with me you actually were?” You break the silence.
Nat chuckles. “Yes, y/n. I’ve been hinting at it for months. I’m glad we finally got on the same page.”
She looks at you through her long eyelashes. You rest your head on her shoulder.
“I’ve always liked you, Natasha,” you say. “Do you think the team noticed we left?”
“Nah,” Nat says. “Even if they did, I don’t care. I have you.”
“You sure do.”
You snuggle further into Natasha. She holds you close as you lay together and talk for hours.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#soft natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff comfort#natasha romanoff smut
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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 26
Warnings: 18+, angst, alcohol consumption, weed, mentions of vomiting, mentions of sex, mentions of cunnilingus, clueless reader, jealousy
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: During a spontaneous birthday 'party', you find some things out, things that maybe should've been left unsaid.
Word count: 6k+
A/N: So, this chapter took a whole turn while I was writing it. It was supposed to head into a whole different direction but my angsty heart, had to say no to the fluffy route. @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me, you're amazingggg
series masterlist
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Steve lied.
He lied again.
It’s something he hasn’t done in a while.
He promised himself to never do it again, knowing how much damage it had caused in the past, in both relationships that he had.
This lie is harmless, though. At least, he thinks that it is.
He spent the day with Robin and Dustin, they had surprised him with a homemade birthday cake that Robin had made with Chrissy’s help, it would’ve been a cute one, had Dustin not ruined it with his Star Wars decorations. Lucas and Max showed up as well, ‘surprising’ him by throwing a bunch of balloons and confetti at him.
They made him blow out the candles, before forcing him to open all the presents. Dustin’s present was not surprising, at all. A Star Wars movie collection. Lucas had given him a keychain, with a little basketball pendant. Max acted all careless as always, shrugging it off when he gave her a kind smile and a ‘thank you’, yet, she gave him one of the best presents, a collection of polaroids of him with the teens, with Robin and even you, along with new records, claiming that he needs to expand his music taste. He has yet to unwrap Robin’s presents.
They ate cake, went to the movies and the diner. And afterwards, Steve drove everyone home. Robin didn’t believe him when he said that he made plans with his parents for the evening, that they’d come home to spend his birthday with him. She was suspicious, not buying the lies he was feeding her with, Steve could tell but she had no choice but to say goodbye when he dropped her off at home, he really didn’t want her to stay longer than she had to, he wanted to be alone, by himself. So, when she begrudgingly got out of the car and gave him a sad smile, he gave her a cheerful one back, pretending to be happy when he was feeling anything but it.
He didn’t go home. He knew that his parents wouldn’t come and he couldn’t stand the thought of staying in that big house, all by himself, tonight. He drove past your street, as well, fighting the urge to go and see you.
There is only one place he knew he would find peace at. The Hideout.
Now, he is sitting here, in the corner of the bar, with a drink that he had bought with his fake ID, soon he won’t have to use it anymore. With his head hung low, he lets his mind go to places that he had avoided all day. Dark thoughts that hold nothing but heartbreak and loneliness. He doesn’t feel miserable, just really fucking sad. He has people who care about him, friends who love him, people he now considers family. And yet, he still feels lonelier than ever.
He looks around the bar, it’s not very crowded, it never is. Maybe on weekends, but never during the week. Rock music plays in the back, he hears the chatter of a group of young men by the bar, they’re laughing, throwing back drinks – they are clearly having a great time. For a while, Steve watches them. How they laugh with each other, how they all look so carefree and happy. He doesn’t even know what it feels like to feel that way anymore, to have fun and be happy without ruining everything with his actions in the matter of just a few minutes.
He sighs, leaning back in the chair, he looks down at his drink, that lately he started to find more and more comfort in.
The door opens but he doesn’t bother to look up, not caring about whoever it is that walked through the door. He is so focused on the miserable feeling inside his chest, the tearing, the longing, the yearning, the hurt.
Before his mind can react, his heart is already fluttering when he hears your voice. He raises his head, eyes finding you immediately. You’re here. You’re here with Eddie. And you look more beautiful than ever. You’re wearing a black dress and the dark denim jacket that he was cursing at, last year when he had yet to find out who it belonged to. Your hair is falling softly in waves, your lips are glowing a soft pink beneath the dim light, you’re giggling, slapping Eddie’s arm playfully when he whispers something in your ear.
His eyes soften, despite you being here with him, giggling at him, he can’t help but smile when he finally sees you again. It’s only been a few weeks since he had properly seen you, yet, it seems like forever.
When your eyes find him and your giggles die down, your smile falls and your eyes widen. He freezes. Not knowing how to react or what to do. Not only have you caught him staring, you have also caught him lying. Again. You were the first person he lied to about his birthday plans. He looks away with a blush on his cheeks, his hand grip the glass tighter, he inwardly curses himself out for coming here, tonight.
“It’s his birthday, right?” Eddie mumbles behind you.
“Yeah,” you whisper in confusion. “He told me that he would spend his birthday with his parents..”
Eddie looks away from you and back at Steve. He sits there, looking crestfallen. His shoulders are slumped, his face etched with sadness, he can see it, even from a distance. The sight of him sitting there so lonely and sad is pitiful. Eddie knows what he feels like, at this moment. His dad never cared about him, not even on his birthdays, he never even bothered to give him a call from wherever he was currently living or staying at.
But, Eddie has Wayne, he always had Wayne. Steve doesn’t. He doesn’t have anyone who looks after him. He is all by himself.
“I guess they didn’t come,” you mumble with sadness and a hint of disappointment in your voice. “They never do.”
“Robin told me that he was acting weird when he dropped her off earlier.”
Despite his dislike for him, he can’t help but feel bad for Steve. The people he wants the most, aren’t in his life.
His parents are gone.
You are gone.
Steve had changed. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, Eddie can see that he has changed for the better. That he isn’t the guy who hurt you, who left you standing on your birthday, who broke your heart and left you for someone else. He isn’t that guy anymore. Had he still been that guy, Eddie wouldn’t even bother to look at him twice and feel any ounce of pity for him but now, things are different. He is different. In a way, it scares Eddie, because he knows that he now has a chance for a second try, with you.
“Do you think he’s here by himself?”
You shrug, looking away from Steve, you turn towards Eddie, “yeah.”
You feel the little item in your pocket, the one that suddenly feels too heavy, the one you itch to reach for and give it to the one you got it for.
Eddie looks down at you, at the sadness in your eyes. For once, it doesn’t make him feel frustrated or annoyed to see you be so sad for someone who hurt you.
“No one should be alone on their birthday,” Eddie mumbles.
“Yeah,” you sigh, looking down at your hands. “But, I-I guess it’s what he wanted, he could’ve spent time with Robin.”
“He was with her before, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah.”
Eddie sighs. There is hesitation in your voice and in your eyes.
“Do you want to spend time with him?” He asks, already feeling the dread tugging in his chest, knowing that the night won’t go the way he wanted it to.
For a moment, you stare into Eddie’s brown eyes, there’s a kindness in them, kindness for him. That is something so rare.
“Uh, I’m sure he wants to be alone.”
Eddie knows you. Eddie knows what you want, right now. But, you are hesitating out of fear of upsetting him.
“Sweetheart,” he whispers, placing his finger under your chin, tilting your head up. “I won’t get angry. If you want to spend time with him tonight, we can cancel our plans and you can go be with him.” He nudges his chin into Steve’s directions. “I don’t like him but, shit, even I can’t stand the fucking kicked puppy look that he’s sporting, right now.”
You eye his face. Even through the sadness for Steve, the smile for you, you can see the slight fear in his eyes. The fear that any moment with you, will be his last one before you find your way back to Steve, before you say goodbye to a friendship that might’ve saved your life. But even through the fear, he still wants the best for you, he still wants what you want.
“I think he wants to be alone,” you repeat.
Eddie looks over your shoulder to see him staring at you.
“Nah, I don’t think so.”
You sigh, shaking your head.
“What if we all hang out together?”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think that Steve would be happy to spend time with me–”
“Please, Eddie,” you whisper, mustering up the best puppy eyes and a pout that he can never say no to. “We can just have fun together, you’ve never met drunk Steve before, he can be funny – unless he decides to break your heart but, that won’t happen to you, don’t worry,” you giggle.
He raises his brows at you, surprised that you are making a joke about that.
“You go buy us drinks and I’ll go convince him to spend time with us. We can just all get drunk together, maybe you’ll finally get along,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile, you place your hands on his chest, pushing him towards the bar, not taking no for an answer.
“I don’t think it’ll take much convincing,” he snorts. As though you would ever have to convince Steve to spend time with you. Eddie is certain that all it takes is a glance from you and that man is already by your side, you got Steve wrapped around your finger, just like him, and you don’t even know it.
You turn on your heel, not waiting for a response from Eddie. You make your way over to Steve, whose head is still hung low. Your heart thumps a little faster in your chest when you inch closer and closer to him. You push your hand into your pocket, reaching for the tiny bag that you had taken with you earlier when you considered dropping by his house.
You stop in front of him, taking a shaky breath as you place the small bag on the table, sliding it towards him.
“Happy birthday, Steve,” you whisper.
His wide eyes stare at the bag, the tiny jewelry pouch that clearly holds a present inside for him. His eyes soften, staring at your ringed fingers that linger next to his hand for a moment.
He looks up, slowly. Hazel eyes flashing with softness when they meet yours. You stare at him with a shy smile, sadness lingering in your pretty eyes. His heart flutters so strongly, he longs to touch you.
“Thank you,” he whispers, giving you a smile. “W-What’s that?” He asks, pointing to his present without tearing his eyes from you.
“I got you a little present. I-It’s nothing special just, I just wanted to get you something. You don’t have to open it now, just uh–”
“Y/n,” he smiles, interrupting your rambling, “you didn’t even have to get me anything but I appreciate it, I will love it.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“Yeah but it’s from you, so, I will love it, dolly.”
A smile appears on your face, you nod slowly, whispering a small ‘okay’. You know that Steve always loved to keep certain presents for last, so you’re not surprised to see him tucking it into the pocket of his jeans.
“Your parents didn’t come?”
He looks down, holding the glass tighter, he shakes his head, unable to bear the pitiful look on your face.
“Oh.”
“It’s okay,” he whispers before you can say ‘I'm sorry, steve.’ He doesn’t want you to pity him.
“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I-I wasn’t alone, I was with Robin all day and the kids–”
“But, now you are.”
He raises his head to look at you. And, before he can even say anything, his words get caught in his throat when he looks at you. Your eyes are glistening, not with tears and sadness, but with something else, something he cannot read. You look at him differently than you did weeks ago, not in a way that scares him or breaks him but, in a way, that only leaves him with one too many questions. He struggles to read you, to understand you. It’s like he can no longer see through you the way he could before. Nonetheless, he feels so calm and safe in your presence and he wants this moment to last forever.
“Right now, I’m not, though. You’re here.”
You smile at his words.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
When Eddie appears by your side, Steve tries not to let his smile fall.
Right. He is here too.
“Happy Birthday, man.”
To Steve’s surprise, he sees Eddie not with two but three shots in his hands, he places them all on the table. Grinning at him in a way he can’t tell whether it’s a kind one or a sarcastic one.
“Thanks,” Steve nods at him.
Eddie pulls the chair back for you, you smile at him, taking the seat across from Steve. Eddie sits down beside you, leaving Steve with a questioning look on his face as he looks between the two of you.
“W-What?”
“You think we’re gonna let you spend the night alone, Harrington?”
Steve looks at Eddie in confusion, hearing these words not from yours but from his mouth leaves him more puzzled than ever. Eddie spending time with him willingly? He purses his lips, squinting his eyes as he turns to look at you. You smile at him, shrugging. You slide one of the shots towards him.
“I mean, I thought that we could spend this night together,” you say, smiling with hope in your eyes. “Or we can leave if that’s what you–”
“No, I-I want to.”
He looks between you two, giving Eddie an awkward smile.
“Cool! Let’s drink, then.”
“Yeah, let’s drink,” he chuckles as he ditches his glass of whiskey for the shot of whatever Eddie had ordered.
“When’s the last time you got drunk?” You ask them both.
“Oh man,” Eddie mumbles, leaning back in his seat, he puts his arm on the back of your chair. “I don’t even remember, it’s been a while. What about you, sweetheart?”
“Uh, well, I had a cocktail night with the girls, a few weeks ago,” you say, giggling. “Oh, also at a party.”
You and Eddie look at each other, he instantly knows what party you are talking about when he sees the amused look on your face. He chuckles, though he instantly gets taken back that night. When you showed up with that stolen bat plushie, when you told him how much you missed him, when you told him that you wished you met him first.
Steve looks between you two, a sinking feeling in his stomach takes place. There are things you share with Eddie, things that he will never know about because he isn’t in his place anymore.
“I knew it! I knew you were lying to me, Dingus!”
Startled by the voice, all three of you snap your heads towards the angry girl walking towards the three of you with a frown on her face, pointing her finger at Steve.
Steve’s eyes widen, “I can explain.”
Something about the anger on Robin’s face and the panic in Steve’s features makes you giggle.
Robin slaps the back of his head, lightly.
“Ouch! Robin!”
“You are such a–”
“Dingus, yeah yeah, I know.”
Eddie laughs at that, smirking at Steve who throws him a glare.
“You think that’s funny, Munson?”
Eddie leans back with a satisfied grin, “actually yeah.”
Robin plops down in the seat next to Steve, still staring at him with a frown on her face.
“Why did you lie to me? Why are you here?”
Steve sighs, scratching the back of his neck as he gives her a sheepish smile.
“And what are you two doing here?” She asks, turning to look at you and Eddie.
“Came here for a couple of drinks and then we found this sad puppy,” Eddie mumbles, pointing at Steve.
Steve rolls his eyes, mumbling a few incoherent words under his breath.
“We just asked him to spend the night with us.”
Robin gives you a surprised look before her eyes move back to Eddie, who, doesn’t look as enthusiastic about this whole thing as you do.
“How did you even know I was here?”
Robin leans her elbow on the table, tilting her head at Steve, “well, I was craving some burgers and my favorite driver was apparently at a birthday dinner so I couldn’t ask him to drive me, so I walked, imagine my surprise when I saw a certain BMW standing in front of The Hideout.”
“Robin–”
“No! Don’t Robin me! Why’d you lie?”
Steve didn’t want her to feel like it’something she had to do, hang out with him, spend his birthday with him because there’s no one else for him other than her. He doesn’t want her to do anything out of pity for him.
He doesn’t feel comfortable to talk about it in front of Eddie or even you, knowing that you pity him the most. You always did and he hated it. A part of him always thought that that’s why you were with him, because you pitied him, the sad boy who was always abandoned by his own parents, because you knew he had no one else that cared about him, that loved him. So you stayed, you stayed even when you shouldn’t have.
Even now, you look at him with those big sad eyes with that look of pity in them.
“Robin,” you warn when you notice how uncomfortable he looks, how he clenches his jaw and bites his lip.
Eddie senses the tension, the looks you are giving Robin, the way she is ignoring you because she desperately wants an explanation from Steve.
“Lay off, Robin. Maybe he just wanted to get a few drinks and not deal with your annoying ass,” he says to her with a grin.
She flips him off, rolling her eyes at him.
“Just relax, here, take my shot and drink it, you need it, Robin,” you say, sliding the shot glass towards her.
She turns towards the two of you, shaking her head with squinted eyes, “you’re both pretty rude.”
“So are you, Robby.”
“Ew,” she scrunches her face up at Eddie, “don’t fucking call me Robby.”
“I’m gonna keep calling you that, if you don’t stop being so rude to sad birthday boy over there.”
Steve sighs, running his hand down his face.
“Can you just call me Steve, dude?”
You giggle at the annoyed look on his face.
Eddie grins, “okay, Steve.”
“Not like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re mocking me!” Steve exclaims.
“How am I mocking you, Steve?”
Steve scoffs, shaking his head, “see, you’re doing it again!”
“Oh my god, shut the hell up!” Robin slams her hands against the table, truly, shutting them both up. “Eddie, get me a drink.”
Both Steve and Eddie look at her as though she had grown two heads, while you giggle at her little outburst.
“That was an order.”
“Damn girl,” Eddie whistles, getting up from his chair, “you need more than one drink,” he mumbles as he walks off.
“You are both two immature idiots,” she groans, burying her hands in her hair.
“You are so mean to me,” Steve mumbles, looking at her in disbelief, “and that on my birthday!”
A smile tugs at your lips, you look between them, chuckling at the way she rolls her eyes at him.
“You know what, I really need a few drinks.”
“Wait, are we actually doing this?” Steve asks, gesturing to the shots on the table.
“What, getting drunk?”
He nods at you.
“Yeah. Just like old times, right?” You smile at him in a way you always used to.
“Just like old times.”
His eyes suddenly flash with amusement, he snorts, “do you remember my fifteenth birthday?”
Your eyes widen as a giggle falls from your lips.
“Of course I remember!”
Robin’s eyes flash with curiosity. There’s things she doesn’t know about yours and his friendship, things neither you or Steve had talked about yet.
“Wait, what happened on your fifteenth birthday?”
Your eyes light up with excitement, you lean closer to the table, looking at Steve, waiting for him to tell the story.
He chuckles at the look on your face before he turns his body towards Robin.
“We stole my dad’s super expensive wine, he was supposed to take it to some event – I got in so much trouble for that, by the way,” he says to you.
“I know, I know. Keep going, Steve.”
“Alright, so, we stole that wine bottle. We played a drinking game, kept passing that bottle back and forth until we were fucking hammered,” he says, chuckling as he thinks back to that day in his backyard. The way you giggled at anything he said, the way you danced and ran around barefoot on the grass, the way you jumped in his pool, fully clothed, the way he hugged you when you were both in the water.
“This crazy girl over there started to cannon ball into my pool–”
You giggle at the memory.
“She did it over and over again and it looked so fun so I joined her. Honestly, it was pretty fun but I had half a bottle of wine and ate a whole pizza before that.”
“Oh,” Robin scrunches her face up, already seeing where this is going.
Steve can’t even fight the smile off his lips, his eyes crinkle, his cheeks flush and he giggles, “we’re in the pool, having the best time of our lives, right? And, fifteen year old me apparently thought that it was a good idea to kiss my best friend, but I totally missed her lips and kissed her nose and she fucking laughed at me, but I wanted to try again. I lean in when I suddenly feel the urge to throw up.”
“Oh, ew! Stop!”
“He threw up in the pool, Robin!”
“That’s so disgusting!” She whines, trying to get the image of Steve puking into the pool out of her head, “you don’t have any better stories to tell?”
You and Steve can’t help but laugh harder at her reaction.
“I mean the kiss on the nose is fucking embarrassing, Steve. But throwing up in front of her afterwards?”
“I thought it was funny,” you giggle.
“What is funny?” Eddie asks when he comes back with two drinks for Robin, placing them on the table and sliding them towards her before he sits down beside you again.
“Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” Robin says with a look of disgust on her face.
“I don’t?” He asks, glancing at you and how amused you look.
“No, you really don’t.”
“Okay,” he snorts.
He glances at Steve, grinning at him, “hey dude, I got a birthday present for you.”
All three of you turn to look at Eddie in surprise, watching him in curiosity when he raises his hand, reaching for something in the pocket of his dark flannel. He picks out a joint, tossing it at Steve who catches it with one hand.
He laughs at that, raising one brow, giving Eddie a smile, “I do appreciate this, it’s kind of expensive nowadays.”
“Is it expensive?” You ask, turning to Eddie, “you always give me some for free.”
Eddie’s lips curl into a smile, he lifts his hand towards your face, tapping your nose with his finger, “well, you’re my best friend.”
Steve keeps his eyes down, not wanting to look between you and Eddie.
You smile at the way Eddie looks at you, the way his eyes glisten, the way his cheeks are always a little red, the way–
“Do you guys wanna smoke this?” Steve asks, cutting the voice in your head.
“Here?”
He chuckles at Robin, “of course not. We could go back to my place, my parents aren’t home, anyways.”
To Eddie’s surprise, he not only directs these words at you and Robin, he also directs them at him.
“Uh, I’d love to!” Robin grins.
Steve gives you a hopeful smile, one that makes it impossible to say no to him.
“Me too.”
At that, his eyes light up and his smile grows bigger.
“Sure, let’s do it.”
“We’ll have to walk though,” Robin gestures to the drink Steve already had, “cause you can’t drive and I don’t have a license.”
He shrugs, “we can take Eddie’s van and I’ll get my car tomorrow morning.”
“Uh, no,” Eddie mumbles, scratching the back of his neck, “my uncle took my van cause his car is at the shop, we walked here.”
Steve sighs, “shit.”
“But you could let me drive, I didn’t have anything yet,” Eddie smirks, pointing to the untouched shots.
Steve snorts at him with a deep glare, “uh, yeah, keep dreaming, Munson,” he mumbles as he leans back, reaching for the keys in his pockets, you all watch him curiously. “The only one who’s allowed to drive my car is dolly.”
Robin raises her brows in surprise when Steve chucks his keys at you that you quickly catch, looking down at them with a dumbfounded expression before your eyes light up and you look up, beaming at Steve.
“Okay, let’s go,” you smile, excitedly as you play with the car keys. You scoot back, getting up from the chair. Robin knocks back one shot before she gets up as well. Steve and Eddie glance at the four untouched shots on the table and then, their eyes meet, they both shrug at each other and reach for two shots, each.
Robin pats Steve’s shoulder, chuckling when he knocks one back and then the other, grimacing at the strong taste.
You giggle at Eddie, who looks unfazed by the bitter taste.
“Let’s go, ladies and.. Steve,” he grins.
“Dude.”
“Don’t start this again,” Robin warns, pointing at them both before she rushes over to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, she grins, “us ladies, ride in the front, and you two can cuddle in the back,” she winks at them, pulling you away with a giggle.
-
After an eventful ride to Steve’s house and a few shots of tequila, you all settled in his backyard, each of you occupying one of the many loungers around the pool. Passing around the joint that Eddie had given Steve as a ‘birthday gift’. You are sipping on a drink that Steve has made for you, coke mixed with his dad’s expensive whiskey. You are pretty sure that you will regret the amount of alcohol and weed you are having tonight, when you wake up tomorrow morning. But the floaty and giddy feeling you are experiencing right now, will have to make up for it.
Steve is sitting on the lounger beside you, a can of beer in his hand, his lips wrapped around the joint that is already stained with your lipstick. A spitcurl is hanging in front of his eyes, he doesn’t bother to push it away. He shakes his head at something Robin had said to him, something you didn’t even hear because you were too busy letting your eyes skip back and forth between him and the curly haired metalhead who now left his lounger to be closer to you.
Eddie wraps his hands around your calves, stroking your skin softly with his ringed fingers as he places your feet on his lap. He does it all without breaking his conversation with Robin. Though he feels the goosebumps on your skin, he hears the breath that hitched in your throat when he touched you. He hides his smirk behind his drink as he takes a sip of the cold beer.
Steve clenches his jaw as he looks between you and Eddie. The way he continues to stroke your calf, the way he smirks at your reaction, the way you are blushing, biting your lip as you look down at the hand touching your skin.
He forces himself to look away, turning back to Robin, he offers her the joint.
“Thanks,” she mumbles, giggling when she almost doubles over as she reaches for the joint.
“Already hammered and we haven’t even played a drinking game yet, tsk,” Eddie shakes his head, giving her a playful grin.
With an eye roll, she gets up, placing the joint between her lips as she sits down next to Steve.
“A drinking game, huh? What kind? ‘Never have I ever’? Okay,” She grins at him without giving him a chance to reply. “Never have I ever had a girlfriend,” she smirks, teasing him.
Steve licks his lips, chuckling at Eddie, who nods at her with an annoyed look on his face.
You raise your eyebrows, “why are you teasing him, I never had a girlfriend, either,” you shrug.
“Yeah but you had a boyfriend,” she mumbles, nudging Steve’s shoulder.
Eddie tilts his head at you, looking you up and down with a smirk, “do you want one?”
“A girlfriend?” You ask as you raise the glass to your lips, shrugging, “I don’t know, I never thought about it but kissing girls is fun, so.. I suppose doing anything else with a girl is fun too.”
Eddie’s lips part, his brown eyes widen, darkening as they do so. He swallows as he continues to stare at you. Millions of questions run through his mind. There are things he doesn’t know about you, yet?
Robin and Steve look at you in surprise.
“Wait, w-what?” He mumbles, laughing nervously.
Robin’s lips curl into a smirk, “you kissed a girl before? Who?”
“Yeah, sweetheart, do tell us your dirty little secrets.”
“Hmm, no,” you smirk, batting your eyelashes at him.
“Was that before or after me?” Steve asks, cheeks flushed red as he tries to fight the images out of his mind.
“Before you,” you giggle.
“Shit, I wanna know who it was.”
“Me too, Eddie,” Robin says. “I know that it wasn’t Chrissy, she’d tell me.”
“Huh, was it another girl from the cheer squad?”
You shake your head at Eddie, biting your lip to keep yourself from laughing.
“Were you close?”
You shrug, nodding your head.
Steve squints his eyes, tilting his head at you.
Robin’s jaw drops a little when she figures it out. There is only one girl that you’re close with that wasn’t in the cheer squad – well, besides her.
“Holy shit,” she mouths at you, grinning.
Steve and Eddie glance at each other in confusion.
It’s amusing how obvious the answer is, yet, neither of them are close to figuring it out.
“If you think kissing a girl is fun, you should try eating one out,” Robin mumbles before she takes a drag from the joint, “it’s the best thing ever.” She blows out the smoke, not noticing the confused frown on your face.
“For once, I have to agree with you, Robin,” Eddie chuckles.
Steve freezes, closing his eyes as he looks down.
“Huh?”
Noticing the look on your face, Robin suddenly regrets opening her mouth about that. Your lips are parted, your eyes filled with confusion and curiosity, your brows are pinched together as you stare at her with a questioning look on your face. She straightens her back, muttering a quiet ‘fuck’ under her breath when she looks at Steve’s embarrassed face.
“What’s that?”
Eddie freezes. The smirk falls from his face, he glances at you, at the clueless, lost look on your face. Oh. Steve had never – fuck. How? If you were his, he’d spend day and night on his knees, worshiping you.
“Huh?” This time, it’s him, whose confused.
You look at him with big and curious eyes.
“What is that, I don’t watch porn.”
“Damn, I guess it’s time to,” Robin mutters through gritted teeth.
“Licking someone’s pussy, sweetheart. And well, fucking one with your tongue.”
Your jaw drops, your cheeks heat up and you stare at him in shock. You look cute like this and he could stare at you forever but, in his state of shock, he slowly turns his head towards Steve, eyes filled with concern, confusion and disbelief, “dude, what is wrong with you?”
Steve, whose face is beet red, glares at him.
“I’m very self conscious of not doing a good job, so–”
“You learn!” Eddie throws his hands up.
“What, Munson, are you the pussy expert or something?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes at him.
You look back and forth between them. Taking in the sight of Eddie’s slightly angered face and Steve’s embarrassed one.
“I have eaten my share of pussy, thank you very much.”
The scoff falls from your lips before you can even stop it. Neither of them acknowledge you though, until you open your mouth. “What, like three?” You scoff, again. “You only fucked three girls, that’s what you told me, unless you lied about that.”
Eddie swallows, glancing at you, he fails to notice just how intense the look in your eyes is.
“There’s a difference between sex and foreplay, sweetheart.”
You bite the insides of your cheeks, swallowing the bitterness on your tongue as you look into his eyes. Not once, had you spent a single second wondering if Eddie was seeing someone, if he was fooling around with girls when he wasn’t with you. But now that you think about it, now that you imagine him with other girls, you suddenly feel the bile rising in your throat. The sickening feeling makes you want to drop to your knees and puke out the waffles you had eaten this morning.
“So, when was the last time you did that then, Eddie?” Robin asks, both curious to know and to see your reaction.
He shrugs, “I don’t know, Buckley. I don’t keep count of how many days–”
“Yes, you do! Men always do!”
He doesn’t feel comfortable sharing that in front of you, but he knows that Robin won’t drop it until she gets an answer she’s satisfied with. Besides, you probably won’t even care. Despite Dmitri’s encouraging words, he still refuses to believe that there are any feelings other than the platonic ones that you feel for him. This won’t hurt you, right?
“Fine! Two or three months ago, happy? Now, Harrington, I think I should teach you some basics.”
You feel as though a cold bucket of water has been dropped on you. Your heart leaps to your throat as your stomach drops. Another wave of sickness floods through you. You stare at him, not noticing Steve’s or Robin’s eyes on you.
When was that? Was it the weekend you couldn’t spend time with him? The night you couldn’t come to his gig? Was it before or after he had gotten angry at you for kissing Steve?
It shouldn’t affect you as much as it does, it shouldn’t make you feel this sick, this jealous. You barely figured out your feelings for him. But the longer you stare at him, listen to his words, you can’t help but feel anger rather than jealousy.
You didn’t have feelings for him back then, or at least, you weren’t aware of them. He’s single and free to do whatever he wants but so are you – so were you when you kissed Steve and yet, he was so angry at you when he found out about it. He treated you so coldly, all because he hated the thought of you kissing Steve. Yet, he was out there fooling around with other girls.
“You have never actually eaten pussy before, dude?” Robin mumbles.
Steve rubs the back of his neck, nervously, “I mean, yeah. Just not–” he pauses with a look of shame in his eyes as he briefly glances at you.
You roll your eyes.
You’re not surprised to hear that, you’re not even hurt. After everything that happened between you and him, his sex life with Nancy is the last thing you had ever worried about. You always knew that he treated her better than he ever treated you.
And, that he tried new things with her isn’t anything shocking to you, anyways.
You open your mouth but before you can say something that might ruin the night, you press your lips together again. Sighing, you look down at your drink. You take a deep breath before you raise the glass to your lips, gulping down the rest of it.
You plaster a smile on your face. Ignoring the concerned looks that Robin is giving you. She thankfully changes the topic. Eddie and Steve, surprisingly fall into yet another conversation.
Their distraction allows you to slip away for a moment, you pass by Robin without meeting her eyes and make a quick escape to the bathroom. Locking yourself into the small room for a moment to collect yourself.
Despite the anger you are feeling, you don’t want to ruin the night for Steve.
You splash some cold water and run your fingers through your hair.
With tears in your eyes, you stare at yourself in the mirror.
Whether it’s tears of anger or tears of sadness. You are sick of it. You are sick of yourself. You are sick of crying. You are sick of the pining, of the jealousy, of the sadness.
Steve had given Nancy everything. He tried new things with her while you were grieving your relationship, crying yourself to sleep and thinking about him like a goddamn fool while he was having the time of his life with a different girl.
And Eddie, you try not to think about it, you try not to let the jealousy in. But you can’t push out the anger that you are feeling for him, right now.
Or the anger that you are feeling for yourself.
How you take everything to heart. How you let everything and everyone hurt you.
You are done.
You are so fucking done.
-
next chapter
-
tagging friends & mutuals
@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @succubusmunson @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfirebunnyxx @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @chrissymjstan @somethingvicked @nemesis729
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst
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the l word
pairing: joel miller x reader
summary: the five times you realized that you loved joel, and the first time one of you says it.
word count: 9.1k
warnings: canon divergent, no apocalypse, 5+1 fic, hurt/comfort, a certain someone gets punched, brief mention of postpartum depression & abandonment, really brief mention of physical abuse in 3, fluff, domestic fluff, angst with a happy ending, found family
author’s note: happy very early valentine’s day! this is part three of the soccer parents au, you can read spectator sport (p1) and clean sheet (p2) here!
this fic would not be possible if it were not for the help of @freakinfairykind, who sent me the idea for scene 3 and listened to my thought vomit whenever i hit a roadblock! you can thank them for the brilliance that is what occurs in that scene :)! enjoy!
part four / series masterlist
Zero
After Nathan, you were sure that you would never fall in love again. Love was supposed to be beautiful and soft—a random bouquet of flowers, having a whole conversation with just your eyes, sweet messages sent to you when you expected it least and needed it most, and foot massages after a long day. For you, love had been nothing of the sort—settling for mediocrity, spitting out venomous words during arguments, and biting back tears on forgotten anniversaries.
Love wasn’t kind or patient, or rainbows and flowers. Love was a storm cloud that followed you around when you were around him, pouring sadness and anger on you and striking you with lightning bolts of resentment.
Maybe some people just simply weren’t meant for love. Maybe you were one of them.
One
After years of trying to hold together a failing marriage and hide the myriad of painful feelings you were going through for the sake of your daughter, bottling up your feelings had become your preferred coping mechanism to everyday stressors.
For the most part, it worked for you. Sure, some days were harder than others, and the smallest confrontation or blip in the day would send you spiraling; but more often than not, you were able to compartmentalize whatever was bothering you and save it for a rainy day.
That was part of what worked so well about the relationship you had with Joel during the soccer season—you had the opportunity to unscrew the lid of the shaken bottle of your feelings just a little bit, taking some of the edge off by yelling about completely inconsequential things. But now, you don't have that outlet. And today was one of those days that you desperately needed it.
Nathan had come by to pick up Chloe just a bit ago, and it was very obvious that she hadn’t exactly wanted to spend her weekend with him. Some of her friends were going to the mall and having a sleepover, and because Nathan wasn’t particularly fond of their parents, he’d very openly told her no. She begged and pleaded to stay with you (mainly so she could go hang out with her friends), which of course broke your heart a little bit, but also led to a pretty dramatic outburst from your daughter to Nathan when he’d picked her up.
“You’re raising a spoiled little brat,” he hissed at you, pointing an accusatory finger once Chloe was in the car.
“At least I’m raising her. You only show up when it’s convenient for you,” you shot back. If Nathan wanted to stoop low, you could fall to his level. “Put your finger down. She’s watching us.”
“A little argument won’t hurt her,” he scoffed. “See? You’re proving my point: you spoil her too much.”
“Because years of watching her parents bicker wasn’t traumatic enough? Get in the fucking car, Nathan.”
He huffed, looking back at the car, then over at you. “Fine. But before I go, I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking poorly about me in front of her. Clearly she’s listening to you and acting out because of it.”
“Have you considered that you’re just a shit father and maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you?” you were already making your way back inside, feeling the avalanche of emotions beginning to stir inside of you, and a little frightened of what might come out next.
“You’re still such a bitch. Every day I praise every deity that’s out there that I left your sorry ass.”
You were viciously fighting the urge to get the last word in, knowing that whatever would come out next wouldn’t be good, and you certainly didn’t want Chloe seeing you like that. You left him with a sarcastic thumbs up, then slammed your front door, taking deep breaths to attempt to calm yourself down.
You crumbled down in front of the door, still maintaining slow and deep breaths. It was no big deal. Nathan just says stuff like that to stir the pot. You just needed to find something to take your mind off of everything. Your mind went to the scarf you’d been working on crocheting, something you could mindlessly do for a little while while you cooled off.
The scarf was going well. You were calmly crocheting the evening away when you checked your phone to find a few apologetic messages from your coworkers. Feeling confused, you went on to check your email, only to find that the promotion you’d spent the last few months of your life slaving away for had been given to someone else—someone who had worked half as hard as you, and even took credit for a few of your projects.
Your hands shook as you set down your phone and attempted to pick back up the crochet hook. You were fine, right? Sometimes these things just happen. Sometimes you sacrifice hours of your free time, hours of time you’ll never get back with your child, or significant other, hours you’ll never get back of sleep, hours of-
You cut your mind off, tossing aside the scarf and taking a deep breath. You were gonna be okay. This just meant you could take your foot off the gas going forward, since your work, effort, and time clearly was not being valued. Maybe you would just sit at your desk and play games, then slap your name on projects and presentations like Naomi. Maybe you’d just-
Your phone began to vibrate on your bed and your immediate reaction was to silence it, but upon checking the contact name, you became slightly more inclined to answer.
“Hey! I almost thought you weren’t gonna pick up,” the man on the other end chuckled.
“Is everything okay?” you asked, although you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle anything else today. With how your day was going, Joel was probably calling you to break up.
“Better than okay. We finished up early, and Sarah’s already at her friend’s. You in the mood for some company?”
No, not particularly. In fact, if Joel came over, you’d probably end up going off on him over something you don’t really mean, successfully putting an end to the best thing you’ve had in a while.
“Uh,” your voice cracked, and a rogue tear slipped down your face. You didn’t even know that you were on the brink of tears. “I’m sorry,” you uttered, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes.
“Sorry for what? You don’t have to feel bad for not wanting me over,” he said genuinely, not picking up on your emotional state over the phone.
“No, I do want you over,” you whimpered. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, too.”
“What? I promise you I’m not going anywhere. Well, I’m going home now, but I can also come to your place if you want me to.”
“Please,” you grit out.
“You okay?” he asked, finally catching on to the fact that something was very off with you.
“I don’t know,” you confessed.
“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”
“No.”
“You sure you want me to come over?”
“Yeah,” you sniffled, desperately trying to fend off your tears.
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon, alright?”
“Bye,” you hung up, burrowing yourself under layers of blankets and curling up onto your side. Maybe this tidal wave of emotions would pass by the time Joel got to your place. You closed your eyes as you took deep, shaky breaths, wiping away stray tears every now and then as they fell. You could pull yourself together.
You kept telling yourself this as you dragged yourself out of bed to answer the door, but the moment you saw Joel with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers, you completely lost it. He immediately tossed the items down and pulled you into a tight embrace, not exactly knowing what was wrong, but instinctually wanting to comfort you regardless.
You didn’t even really know what it was either. Sure, you were pissed that you’d lost the promotion, and even more upset that Nathan had called your daughter a name while insulting your parenting skills, but it was far more than that. It was every little thing from the past two months that had upset you in some capacity that you had decided to push as far down as possible.
You sobbed until your throat was raw and your eyes grew sore from crying so much. The whole time Joel wordlessly held you, rubbing soothing circles into your back and swaying you back and forth just the slightest bit. You almost felt like your tears would never stop, and the more you willed yourself to pull it together, the harder it was to do so.
Finally, you pulled away, head hanging with humiliation by the emotions abruptly pouring out of you. You truly felt like a live wire. You should’ve just told Joel not to come over.
“Want me to run you a bath?” he asked softly, tilting your chin up so he could look at you, and rubbing a thumb over your cheek. “Or is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
“A bath is good,” you said quietly, averting your gaze. You almost felt like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum. The shame of being a grown woman who couldn’t even control her emotions was overwhelming, but Joel didn’t seem to mind much at all. He simply led you up to your bathroom and quietly filled the tub for you, checking it every now and then to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Once the tub was filled up, he helped you undress, then held your hand as you stepped into the tub.
“Would you like me to stay?” Joel asked as you settled into the tub.
“Not really,” you admitted.
“Okay. Just yell for me if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs.”
Somehow, the bath was everything you needed. It was just warm enough to relax your rather tense muscles, and just quiet enough to allow you to actually process your thoughts. You sat and soaked in the bath for a while, just inhaling the scent of lavender, and trying your best to let go of the feelings that you’d been holding onto for so long.
Eventually, you felt ready to talk about things, and called out Joel’s name, who after a moment, showed up in your bathroom and sat down on a towel next to the tub.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching for your pruny hand.
“Better,” you answered as you laced your fingers with his.
“Well, I’m here when you feel ready to talk about it. And if you don’t feel ready to talk about it, that’s okay too.”
“Okay,” you said quietly. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, the apology being more of a force of habit.
“You don’t need to be sorry,” Joel assured, “we all feel our feelings sometimes,” he pushed away a bit of hair that had fallen into your face.
“I’m sorry you had to see me like this, I guess,” you continued. It had been a while since you’d shown any negative emotions in front of anyone, let alone a significant other. In fact, the last time you’d been sad in front of a significant other, you’d been laughed at and mocked. You’d been conditioned to see your own vulnerability as weakness, as a character flaw you needed to apologize for.
“Like what? Naked?” he teased, trying to at least make you smile when you’d clearly been feeling so down. “You know I don’t mind that at all. Seriously, though. There’s nothing wrong with being upset, and there’s nothing wrong with being upset in front of the people you care about.”
A tear slipped down your cheek. It had been so long since anyone had made you feel like you weren’t a burden for having a rough day. Joel gently brushed away your tears with his thumb, and kissed your forehead.
“Thank you,” you muttered, feeling all sorts of feelings, particularly one feeling you couldn’t quite describe that had been lying dormant for years of your life.
You eventually got out of the tub once the water had become too cold and you had become
somewhat of a human prune, and you found yourself curled up in bed with Joel, wearing a flannel that he’d left behind the last time he was over.
“Feeling any better?” he asked once again, gently rubbing your back as a trashy reality TV show played quietly in the background.
“Yeah,” you mumbled as you looked up at the ceiling, “it’s been a rough few months.”
“Months?” Joel asked, scooting closer to you. “What’s been happening?”
“Too much to get into,” you sighed. “I guess it just all came out now.”
Joel turned down the volume of the TV, and turned his body so that he could face you properly. “If you want to talk, we have the time. I may or may not have drank a coffee on my way over here, so I’ll be completely alert for the next few hours.”
He gently grabbed your hand and squeezed it, a little reminder that he was here for you.
“Today’s just been… bad. When Nathan picked Chloe up, she was upset so he called her a spoiled brat and said that it was my fault that she was one. Obviously I do a lot for her, and I know that I’m a good mom, but sometimes the way he talks about her scares me a little. I don’t want her to have self-esteem issues because her dad likes to name-call. I mean, she’s probably gonna have enough issues from our shitty relationship and messy divorce. That really upset me, but that definitely wasn’t the last straw or anything.”
Joel silently sat and listened, holding your hand and listening attentively.
“I lost the promotion, Joel. You know, the one I’ve been working absurd hours for? But it’s not just that, it’s just… there are months of emotions I haven’t had a chance to process. I guess it just all came out now after that.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “Nathan is an asshole. He shouldn’t be saying that kind of thing about his child just to make you feel bad. And your boss is stupid for not giving you that position when you’ve clearly earned it. Everything you’ve felt today is valid, but so is everything else that you’ve been holding in for the past… however long. It’s okay to feel your feelings in the moment instead of waiting for them to boil over.”
“I guess, it’s just… I don’t know. I’ve had to be strong for so long. I don’t know if I know how to not wait for my emotions to boil over.”
“Well, you don’t have to be so strong anymore. You’re not alone,” he assured you. “If you ever need me to watch Chloe because you need to go out to the middle of nowhere and scream, or just need someone to talk your feelings out with, I am more than happy to do so. Okay?”
“Okay,” you agreed, setting your head on Joel’s chest.
You were getting that weird, dormant feeling in you once again. There was an odd warmth in your chest and butterflies in your stomach, that felt strange and familiar, but most of all, exciting. You had no idea what was going on, or what that feeling was, but you did know that you didn’t want it to stop anytime soon.
And honestly, it didn’t seem like it would.
Two
Walking into Joel’s home to the sound of soft guitar chords made you feel a bit like you had woken up in a dream, or died and gone to heaven. It wasn’t often that you’d heard him play guitar. Sing? Sure! He loved to sing along to a song he liked on the radio, or do karaoke with you and the kids. But playing guitar was something that he seemed to like to keep to himself.
Joel had picked Chloe up from school, as you had an important work event that you’d anticipated going quite late, and as you’d predicted, it was nearly midnight by the time you got to Joel’s place. It was rare for you to see those two alone, without yours or Sarah’s presence, but you’d assumed the latter had gone to bed due to how late it was and the fact that they had school in the morning.
So hearing Joel play for your daughter felt… weird. But a good weird. Like he trusted her enough to be doing something that he often kept under wraps, even for you.
“I love this song!” you heard your daughter exclaim from the living room. You rounded a corner, not quite ready to appear yet, but curious enough to eavesdrop on the scene.
Joel chuckled at her reaction, “should we sing it together?”
“Maybe, I’m not very good, though.”
“I doubt that,” Joel said, continuing to play the introduction to the song on a loop.
“I… fine, I’ll sing.”
The two of them began to sing along to the song, and you could’ve sworn that your heart did an actual flip as you listened. There was something very sweet about the whole scene, of Joel playing a song your daughter loved, of him assuring her that she was good enough, and singing something together.
You should’ve felt bad for listening in on the scene, for invading on a moment that was clearly meant to be private, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to feel that way when your heart was so filled with… something that you couldn’t quite place.
The song came to a soft conclusion, and you figured there was no better time to finally step out from behind the wall than then.
“You guys sounded so good!” you stated as you entered the room.
“Oh hi,” Joel greeted a little awkwardly, looking down at his guitar as if he’d been caught red handed.
“Mom!” Chloe exclaimed, coming over to you and hugging you. “I missed you.”
“We were just killing time while we waited for you to get home. How was work?”
“Eh,” you shrugged, sitting down across from Joel as Chloe curled up next to you. “It was work.”
“Mom, did you know that Joel sings and plays guitar? He’s really good!”
“Really? I didn’t know that,” you acted surprised for your child, but looked mischievously at your partner. It wasn’t often that you had the chance to get Joel to play you something, and you refused to let the opportunity slip away from you. “Can you play me something?”
“He can!” Chloe accepted the offer before Joel could begin to protest. God, was this child your mini-you. “Go ahead, Joel.”
He looked to you as if he needed some sort of excuse to not do it, or encouragement to play (more likely than not, he was looking for an out), but you simply shrugged, far too enthused at the idea of him playing guitar for you.
Just as the man sighed and began to put his fingers to the string, Sarah came down the stairs and plopped herself right next to you.
“You guys are loud,” she stated, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized. “You were just about to miss your dad’s concert!”
“Oh good,” Sarah giggled, getting all comfortable next to you as she pulled a blanket over her lap.
“I feel like this is a premeditated attack,” Joel held onto his guitar.
“It’s definitely not. We just want you to share your gift with the world!”
“Alright, fine. Only because I like you guys so much.”
The three of you cheered from the couch as Joel began to play again, the soft acoustic notes of a love song you’d heard a few times before. As Joel played and sang, he looked straight at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like the lyrics were coming straight from his heart to you.
That warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you’d become more and more familiar with over the course of your relationship began to reappear as you sat there, the moment a snapshot of the perfect domestic bliss that had become your home life. As you sat with your two favorite children in the world, and your favorite man, you realized that you’d never felt more content in your life.
Three
When you agreed to come to a bar with Joel, you hadn’t expected it to be a quaint little hole-in-the-wall with great live music.
The atmosphere was lively, the drinks were dangerously sweet, and best of all, it was cute watching Joel in his element. Part of you wondered if he ever saw himself up on the stage, playing for a little audience. Although, he was so bashful and shy playing in front of you and the girls that you wondered if he would like it at all.
You finished off your first drink rather quickly, but you were feeling up for another, and prepared to head back to the bar. “Do you want another drink?” you asked Joel over the loud music.
“I’m alright. Thank you, though,” he kissed your cheek, then looked back up at the stage, directing all of his focus there once more.
You made your way back to the bar, where you ordered another fruity drink for yourself and patiently waited for it to be made, humming along to the cover being sung on stage.
Being able to find out more about what Joel liked to spend his time doing was (unsurprisingly) quite nice. While he was vulnerable with his emotions, he was often a little more closed off when it came to sharing his hobbies and interests. You wondered how many of these live shows and open mics he was familiar with, how many local artists he was friends with. Would he ever feel comfortable enough around you to share those things with you? Well, you certainly hoped so.
You looked around with a small smile on your face at the thought of learning more about your partner’s interests. Had he ever been the one up on stage? Maybe before Sarah was born and he was launched straight into the time consuming world of fatherhood. Although, he surely would’ve shared that with you by now.
You were drawn out of thought when eyes landed on a head of hair that looked a little too familiar for your liking.
No.
There was no way.
This bar was definitely not his scene. In fact, if you’d suggested this bar, he would’ve laughed in your face and called you a hipster, before dragging you out to some stuffy restaurant where he’d complain about the portion size of both his meal and the bill.
Your mind was just playing a mean trick on you. You’d had a somewhat stressful week, and sometimes drinking made you the slightest bit paranoid. Besides, it was just someone’s hair. Literally anyone could have that hair color, or hair cut, and although the world was small, it wasn’t that small.
Just as you began to fall headfirst into your nerves, the bartender handed you your drink, and you walked back to Joel, head still in the clouds.
You couldn’t shake that off feeling, even as Joel danced around with you and stole a sip of your drink, both actions bringing a smile to your face, but not quite quelling the growing discomfort in your stomach.
You just needed to go clear your mind and freshen up. At least, that’s what you told yourself before telling Joel to keep your drink safe and power walking to the bathroom.
You stood at the sink, splashing your face with water as cold as the faucets would go. Nathan was not here. You needed to just relax, and enjoy the fun date that Joel had planned. You couldn’t keep letting this man ruin your experiences, even when he wasn’t present.
“You okay, hun?” a voice asked you while your head was bowed over the sink. When you looked up, your eyes nearly popped out of your head, as if you were some ridiculous cartoon character.
Well. Your brain must’ve really been fucking with you today. Or the Universe just really hated you.
Claire, Nathan’s new girlfriend, was asking you if you were alright in the bathroom of a bar that your new boyfriend had suggested.
You were completely unsure of whether she knew who you were or not, although she seemed tipsy enough not to care.
“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled awkwardly at her. “But, uh, my mascara’s a little smudged. Any chance you have a makeup wipe?”
“Yeah!” she said, digging into her purse to check for the item.
You’d never met Claire before, but as far as first impressions went, this one wasn’t too bad. She offered you the wipe, then stood next to you as you dabbed at your under eye.
“You meet anyone fun tonight?” she asked, beginning to touch up her own makeup.
“No, I’m actually here with my partner. He really likes the music,” you said casually, dabbing at the same spot so you could at least attempt to maintain your composure in an otherwise dramatically ironic and tense situation.
“Oh no. Was he the one making you cry?”
“Cry? No! I was sweating. We were dancing,” suddenly, a slightly perverse question crossed your mind. “Does your partner make you cry a lot?”
“How do you even know I have one?” she giggled, sounding less accusatory and more confused.
“I don’t I just-“
“No, not really,” she shrugged as she reapplied her lip liner. “He mostly just buys me shit and spoils me. What would I have to cry about? He’s a really good guy.”
Oh, you remembered that phase. Well, phases. The time after he’d slapped you during an argument immediately came to mind. Nathan could probably teach a seminar on love bombing, then making you feel guilty for having any negative feelings because of all the money he’d spent on you.
“That’s good,” you nodded, tossing the used wipe in the trash and making your way to the door. “Thanks for checking in on me and helping me. Have a good night.”
“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” she asked as your hand hit the door.
“No,” you replied promptly, maybe slamming the door behind you a little too hard.
This was a lot to process, and a lot to take in. Despite having a fun time with Joel, you really just wanted to go home. Finding your way back out to him, you silently accepted back your drink and stood besides him stiffly.
“You okay?” he asked, gently grabbing your arm.
“Fine, just… just.. I have an upset stomach,” you explained. You were never a good liar, the concern in Joel’s eyes told you that you hadn’t suddenly become one.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said, rubbing your forearm gently. “Let’s go home, okay?”
You certainly didn’t protest as he began to lead you out of the bar, and you let out a sigh of relief at being able to leave before running into anyone else you knew.
Although, life was never that simple, was it?
As you approached the door, a familiar voice called out your name, sending a chill up your spine. Joel’s head whipped around from where it was coming from, and scowled when he saw who the voice belonged to. Ignoring him, the two of you continued your departure, a newfound urgency in both of your steps.
Once you were outside, you felt yourself puff out a sigh of relief. You’d managed to get out of the bar with only a brief conversation with Claire, and no direct interaction with Nathan. Now, if you could only get home, curl up with Joel on the couch, and tell him the absurd story of how you’d bumped into your ex’s new girlfriend in the bathroom.
But the universe clearly wasn’t letting you off the hook just yet.
“Hey!” Nathan called as he stepped out of the bar, Claire trailing just a few paces behind him. “You’re such a fuckin’ bitch. Can’t even say hi to the father of your child.”
You were almost alarmed by the speed in which Joel marched over to your ex and reprimanded him. Not even wasting a moment, Joel shoved him back—a warning of sorts, with your knowledge that he was certainly holding himself back.
“Leave her the fuck alone,” he barked. It was like no tone you’d ever heard him use before, not when he was upset with anyone, and not even when he was yelling at a referee for a bad call.
“And who the fuck are you?” your ex shot back.
“Does it really matter?” Joel pressed, not backing down despite the slightly shorter man getting in his face. “You’re not gonna go around trying to degrade women.”
“Oh yeah? You gonna stop me, Mr. Nice guy?” Nathan pushed Joel, but your partner barely budged.
“You fuckin’ cuck,” Nathan muttered. “Why do you even care about this whore?”
Nathan took a second to think about it, glancing between the two of you before a light seemed to go off in his little brain.
“Oh, I know. You’re that guy from the soccer games. You two together now?" His condescension was almost jarring to hear, and part of you worried about what your clearly inebriated ex might say or do next. “I see you’re still the community cumrag,” he directed at you.
You hardly had a moment to process what was just said before Joel was swinging, clearly seeing red as he threw a hefty right hook at your ex, leaving a nasty crunching sound as he fell to the ground.
“Don’t talk about her, or any other fucking woman like that ever again,” he squatted down to his level, and grabbed both of his cheeks. “Leave her the fuck alone, you understand me? Or next time you’re gonna wish it was just your nose.”
Nathan cradled his bloody nose and whimpered and Joel walked back to you, the fury on his face melting into something apologetic as you looked at him with wide eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he began, cautiously approaching you as if he was something to be afraid of. “I shouldn’t have done that. I overstepped-“
“Joel. Don’t apologize. Do you know how much that asshole deserved it? You did everyone a favor tonight, but especially me.”
You had never had someone defend you so literally before. Sure, your friends had argued with Nathan a few times on your behalf, but punching Nathan in the face had truly raised your expectations for anyone who claimed to be doing anything to help you. You don’t think you’d have felt this alive or cherished in years.
“Now let’s get you home and ice those knuckles.”
Four
You were usually a big fan of rainy days. The sound of rain pattering against the window or on the roof of your car, and the smell of petrichor on the pavement were sensations you wished you could experience all the time. But today, you weren’t quite so pleased to see the rain.
You’d taken the day off to spend it with Joel, who had specifically asked for you to take some time off to be with him. You couldn’t blame him, as you’d been slightly neglecting him after things picked up once again at work. You’d had a whole outdoorsy day planned, with a morning hike, a visit to a conservatory, and a picnic at one of your favorite local parks. Unfortunately, none of those activities could be done comfortably in the pouring rain.
Instead, you opted to come back to your place after you dropped your kids off at school, and have a domestic little day-in.
After putting some homemade cinnamon rolls into the oven, the two of you found yourselves on your couch, comfortably sitting together and reading your own books while the smell of warm cinnamon filled your house.
Occasionally, you glanced out your window, the scene of rain granting you a sense of serenity. At one point, you noticed Joel’s gaze out the window as well, and you couldn’t help but comment on it.
“Don’t you just love the rain?” you asked, setting your book down on your coffee table. It was more of an excuse to break the silence than an actual comment, but you said it regardless.
“It’s nice,” he agreed, his tone oddly somber for a comment on the rain.
“You okay, big guy?” you asked before moving closer to Joel.
“I’m alright,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. There wasn’t any real concrete evidence that something was off, but something inside you told you that something definitely was off.
“You sure?” you asked, squeezing his bicep.
“Yeah, it’s just,” he paused, looking down at his book as if he was about to go right back to reading instead of telling you the issue. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke once more, “it’s the anniversary of Diane leaving.”
Oh. So that’s why he’d asked to be with you today.
You’d never heard Joel say her name before. Sure, you’d seen her name written under a polaroid or two, but you’d never heard Joel reference her ever. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t really know what their deal was. Amicable exes? Divorcees? Was Joel a widower? You felt awful that you’d gone this far into a relationship and still didn’t know anything about his last significant one.
“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not completely sure how to react. You mainly wanted to get a gauge on Joel’s reaction–just how upset was he? Did he want to talk about it? Or just get the importance of the day out in the open?
“It’s just… Today feels like that day in a lot of ways.”
You nodded slowly, still not exactly sure of how to approach the situation. You thought back to all of the times he’d been there to support you when you were having a rough day, and ended up asking aloud, “is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
“Maybe just listening, if that’s okay. It helps to talk about it,” he paused. “The rolls smell done. I’ll go get them,” with that, he was off to the kitchen, barely giving you time to react, or even protest his departure.
He clearly wanted to talk, but just wasn’t completely ready to do so at that moment. You could listen. You could be the best damn listener on the planet if that was what Joel needed from you. No matter what he revealed to you today, you were determined to make Joel feel comfortable, and know that whatever he was going through, he wasn’t alone—just as he’d shown you in the past.
By the time he came back to the living room, Joel offered you a plate with an iced cinnamon roll and acted like everything was normal. He sat back down next to you, stole a bite from your plate, then buried his nose right back into his novel.
You respected his right to process his emotions in any way he saw fit. All you could do was be a good partner, and offer whatever he needed from you to feel better, like he’d done for you so many times before.
While you were fine with spending your day cuddled up on the sofa and reading, you were also aware that there were a good amount of house chores that were calling your name. Upon mentioning these tasks, Joel insisted on helping out, which was how you two landed in the laundry room, laughing at something stupid that had happened to you this week.
While you loaded light clothes into your washer, Joel suddenly caught you off guard with a question that was a far cry from the banter you’d just been having only moments before.
“Is it… are you okay with me talking about it?”
By it you could only assume he meant the giant elephant of a woman in the room.
“Of course,” you turned to him, offering sympathetic eyes.
“She left just a few months after Sarah was born,” Joel busied himself by pouring out laundry detergent and fabric softeners. “I just woke up one morning to an empty bed and a note in the kitchen saying she was leaving, she wasn’t coming back, and not to look for her.”
You were taken aback by the cruelty of such an abrupt ending, especially with such a young infant. You couldn’t imagine being put in those circumstances so unexpectedly.
Joel casually poured the respective liquids into their proper places in the machine, then turned it on. “It was a day just like this. The nursery had a nice, big window that we put a rocking chair in front of. Sarah liked looking at the stars when she was younger, it always helped to calm her down. I remember holding her in that chair and bawling my eyes out while she cried too, and with all the rain against the window… it felt like the Earth was crying right along with us.”
You weren’t sure what to say or how to react, but it seemed like Joel was prepared to move right on, quickly changing the subject as he led you out of the laundry room.
Baking cinnamon rolls had left a lot of dishes in the sink, but luckily for you, you had an extra set of hands to help you out. Joel was on rinsing duty, and you were on loading.
You quickly found your rhythm, as you often did with partnered tasks. You worked quietly while loading the dishes, letting the music from your speaker fill up the silence, but it was obvious Joel was lost in thought.
Eventually, he quietly began to speak again, “I kept trying to make sense of her leaving. I knew that postpartum depression hit her really hard, and that she was barely sleeping at night because of how often Sarah was crying. Sarah was a really sensitive, fussy baby. She’d told me how she’d felt a few times, and I always kinda thought things would just pass. Every new parent hits that roadbump where they just can’t see themselves doing this thing forever, right? Then, she just left. I thought maybe she just needed a few days away, and that she’d be back. But days went by, then weeks, then it had been a month, and it was still just Sarah and I.”
“Did she ever come back around?” you asked, setting down the last dish into the sink, then closing the machine.
“Never heard from her again.”
You closed the distance between you and the man, wrapping him in as tight of a hug that you could manage.
“I’m so sorry,” you muttered into his shirt as he melted into your embrace. “I can’t even imagine how painful and stressful that was.”
As a mother, you couldn’t imagine abandoning your child; the tiny human being you spent nine months carrying, and would spend a lifetime loving. But as a human, you understood the stress of being the parent of a newborn. Waking up every few hours because your baby is crying and you’ve tried everything to get her to stop but she just… won’t. Paired with postpartum depression, which you were no stranger to, you could understand the circumstances that led Diane to feeling like she had no other option but to leave. But that didn’t, in any way, make it the right thing to do.
As you held Joel, a sound you hadn’t ever heard from him escaped his lips, wracking his body. A guttural cry that had clearly been trapped deep inside of him for the longest time had suddenly escaped as he recalled an event that had clearly changed his life.
You stood in the kitchen holding him for what felt like forever, when he finally pulled away, wiping his face a little bit.
“Thank you,” was all that he managed to get out.
You laid next to him in bed after a rather emotionally loaded session of lovemaking, trying to catch your breath as the two of you recovered from the underlying emotional and physical aftermath of your fornication. As Joel spooned you, a question lingered on your mind.
“Do you still love her?” you asked, keeping your eyes forward on the wall. You wanted to say you were sure he had moved on, but these types of situations were rather nuanced. There were just some bonds that regardless of time or circumstances, people continued to hold on to.
“No,” he answered clearly. “I don’t hate her, either. I guess I just understand her. But that doesn’t make what she put me or Sarah through any better.”
You slipped your hand down to where his were currently laying on your stomach, and you set one on top of his.
“I’m not jealous, I’m just curious. Do you ever miss her?”
“I used to,” he sighed, the close breath blowing some hairs on your neck. “I don’t anymore.”
Eventually, your laundry was dry, meaning you two needed to get out of bed and get to folding.
“She has a new family, now,” he said out of the blue, as he folded up a pair of your pajama pants. “Husband, kids, dog, the full nine yards. Tommy found her Facebook a few years ago, but I still haven’t looked. I don’t really know why.”
You didn’t really know why either, but you knew exactly the feeling he was experiencing. Seeing your ex who you’d invested so much into and had a child with move on with someone was a particularly gut wrenching feeling. You could only imagine how much worse it was in Joel’s scenario, where Diane had abandoned him and their child, yet had a child and built another family elsewhere.
“Does Sarah know?” you asked, putting a blouse onto a hanger.
“Bits and pieces. She kinda just accepted that her mom’s not in the picture, but doesn’t know why she left or anything about her mom’s new family,” Joel finished up with his basket, then began to help you with yours. “Maybe when she’s older. Old enough to understand that it isn’t her fault and that these things just… happen sometimes.”
“I guess,” you frowned as you grabbed your last article of clothing and hung it up. “It shouldn’t have happened, though. Neither of you deserved to be abandoned.”
“It was gonna happen one way or another,” Joel shrugged, putting your baskets away. “Our relationship had been on the rocks even before Diane became pregnant. If it wasn’t then, it would be later. I’m just glad it happened early enough that Sarah doesn’t remember. You in the mood for a coffee?”
His words gave you a bit of whiplash, but you accepted the offer of a warm drink regardless.
You sat at your table, stirring your drink as Joel sat down across from you.
“Good, right?” he asked. “I think I’ve officially nailed the way you like your coffee.”
“It’s pretty good,” you admitted, taking a sip from a mug that Chloe had decorated in her school’s art class.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Good. It is one,” you hummed.
It was clear that his mood was slightly improving the more that he talked about his experience. You wondered just how much of this information he’d shared with anyone else before you, as he told the story as if he were confessing something for the first time ever.
“I’ve never told anyone this much about it,” he confessed. “I’m glad that of all the people I could’ve told, it ended up being you.”
“Joel, I,” the words popped into your head, but died on your tongue. “I care about you so much. I know this can’t be easy to talk about, so thank you for sharing this with me,” you squeezed his hands across the table.
“Thank you for being so supportive. I also care about you a lot. So much that it scares me. Especially knowing that you could lose everything in a literal night,” he admitted.
“Oh Joel,” you said softly. “I’m also scared. I’m always so scared that I’ll lose you and Sarah and this little blended family we’ve made. But if that’s the price I pay for… caring about you so much, I’m okay with being afraid.”
Joel looked at you like he had something to say, but instead sat there quietly for a moment, processing your words. “Do you want to watch an episode of The Bachelorette?”
“Is that even a question? C’mon,” you stood up.
The two of you cuddled up on the couch once again, this time with a much lighter feeling in the room, partially due to what Joel had confessed to you, and partially due to the absolutely ridiculous content playing on your television.
“I’m sad that I had to go through what I had to go through, but I’m glad that it led me to you,” Joel said out of the blue, resting his forehead against yours.
You were glad that he found you too.
Five
It wasn’t every day that the forces of the universe seemed to be on your side, but for some reason, today was one of those days.
When you’d been called into your boss’ office that morning, a pit formed in your stomach. You’d figured that the day you were going to be laid off was coming, especially following the whole promotion fiasco. As you walked into her office, you fully intended to be walking out without a job.
Except, that wasn’t what happened. You had been promoted, and promoted into a position even higher than the one you’d previously been gunning after.
Once you found out, you had to fight the urge to skip out of your boss’s office, singing and dancing with joy. Instead, you fought that urge by closing the door to your office, and calling Joel.
“Hey honey, what’s up?” he answered casually.
“Joel, they promoted me! And it’s an even better position than what I was trying to get before!” you squealed.
Joel cheered from over the phone, making you somehow smile even harder. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you. I can’t think of anyone who deserves this more than you.”
“Oh my god, stop it,” you giggled, putting your hands up to your warm cheeks.
“No, I’m serious,” Joel countered. “I know a lot of hard workers, and none of them work as hard as you. You’ve sacrificed so much to get here and it’s finally paid off.”
“Thank you, Joel,” you had more to say, but you decided to keep it to yourself. Mainly, how did you get so lucky to end up with a man like him?
“Are you busy tonight?” he asked.
“I’m just dropping Chloe off at my mom’s, then I should be free for the evening. Why?”
“Why don’t you come over to my place so we can celebrate? You picked the right time to get a promotion. Sarah’s going to her uncle’s for the weekend.”
“Sounds good to me,” you hummed. “I’ll text you when I’m heading over.”
“Alright. Again, congratulations! So proud.”
You hung up and attempted to get back to work, but you were far too excited to focus for too long. You somehow made it to the end of the work day and to Joel’s house without spontaneously combusting from joy.
When you walked in, you were immediately met with the smells of one of your favorite candles, mixed with the mouthwatering scent of fragrant coming from the kitchen.
“Joel, I’m home!” you announced, making your way to the kitchen only to find it very dressed up. The lights were dimmed, a crisp white table cloth rested on the table, and a gorgeous arrangement of flowers sat in a vase in the middle of the table, right next to a rather nice looking bottle of champagne.
Joel was finishing up plating something spectacular as you came in. “Please, have a seat,” he directed. You didn’t need to be told twice.
With the arrangement of the table, you almost felt like you were sitting at a fancy little restaurant, but better, knowing all the effort Joel had put into making the table look this way. He brought over two plates, set one over at his seat and one in front of you, before leaning down and kissing you gently.
“Congratulations. I am so, so, so proud of you,” he said after finally pulling away, reaching for the bottle of champagne on the table.
“If anyone in the world deserves good things,” he turned away from you so that he could safely pop the bottle. “It’s you. I’m glad you’re finally getting the recognition that you deserve.”
With the bottle opened, he poured you out a glass, then poured himself some. You lifted up your glass and Joel mirrored you.
“Cheers,” you said with a grin, tapping your glasses together, then taking a sip. Once you finished drinking, Joel leaned in for one more kiss before he situated himself back into his chair.
“I think you deserve a promotion from best boyfriend in the world to best boyfriend in the universe,” you softly laughed, looking down at your plate.
“Do I? I think anyone would celebrate the person they…” he paused for just a split second, and you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t paying such close attention. “The person they’re sharing their life with if they made a big accomplishment like this.”
“Honey, you’d be very surprised. I can think of at least one person who would view this promotion as a bad thing.”
“Well, don’t think about them right now. This is an amazing thing, and we’re celebrating you today. Not an insecure man with a Napoleon complex and a small penis.”
You laughed out loud, nearly choking on a bubbly sip of champagne.
“You’re right,” you picked up your fork and knife, reading to dig into the amazing looking meal in front of you. “Thank you for this, Joel. You always make me feel so appreciated and cherished. You’re truly one of a kind.”
He shook his head bashfully at the compliment, eating right along with you. It was almost cute how he never seemed to accept compliments, but certainly deserved them more than basically any other person that you knew.
“You always show me how much you care about me. It’s only fair that I do the same.”
“You’re so romantic,” you sighed. “How can I guarantee that I can keep you around forever?”
“Just keep being you, I guess. That’s all I’ve really ever wanted.”
How did you get so lucky? How did you manage to hit the jackpot on men with Joel, almost let it slip through your fingers not once, but twice, and still managed to end up with one of your favorite people in the world?
However it ended up happening, you certainly weren’t mad at it, and as you sat together, you hoped for things never to change.
Plus One
Given that you practically lived at each other’s homes now, you often spent your mornings together getting ready to take on the day. It was cute how you both had your own little routines and were able to coexist in a tiny little space.
Today, you stood in Joel’s bathroom, washing your face as the mirror across from you began to become progressively more foggy from the heat of Joel’s shower.
“My hair is gonna be so frizzy,” you muttered to yourself as you rubbed moisturizer into your skin.
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come in here with me,” Joel shot back from the shower, turning the water off.
“Whatever,” you grumbled, getting back to work on your face as Joel dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist.
“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy in the morning,” he commented as he approached you, standing next to you at the sink.
“I am not grumpy,” you argued, then paused once Joel gave you a very disbelieving expression. “Fine. I can get a little irritable in the morning. Especially when someone’s boiling hot showers make my hair get all frizzy.”
“I wonder who that someone is?” Joel looked around the room in faux confusion.
“Ugh, shut up. You are such a dad,” you fought back laughter, but you couldn’t really help the smile that appeared on your lips.
“Shutting up,” Joel acknowledged, grabbing his razor and some shaving cream to touch up some of his facial hair. You began to brush your teeth, focusing on yourself in the mirror to make sure that you were making your dentist proud.
Your eyes eventually migrated and were meeting Joel’s in the mirror. You flashed him a big, foamy grin, and he immediately broke into hysterics, setting the razor down so he didn’t cut himself while laughing so hard.
“Really?” he asked between laughs. “While I’m shaving?”
“Sorry,” you shrugged with a self-satisfied smirk.
“You are such a dork,” Joel sighed as he calmed himself down, leaning against the counter as he began to work on shaving his face once more. “Ugh, I love you,” the words seemed to come out of his mouth involuntarily, if the horrified look on his face told you anything.
It seemed like the whole house stopped after Joel said it, the dripping from the showerhead ceasing, the faint buzz of the air conditioner nowhere to be found, and the noises of your children downstairs coming to a halt.
You were shocked at the admission, and Joel seemed to be shocked that he’d said anything.
Now that he’d mentioned it, you really did love Joel. You loved how he supported you, and how he treated your daughter like she was his own. You loved that he wasn’t afraid to fight for what he believed in, especially when that included socking your ex in the face. You loved his ability to be vulnerable with you, and the way that he seemed to always know what to say at the right time. You loved knowing that no matter how shitty of a day you’d had, Joel would always be there, ready to order your favorite foods and spoon you while decompressing with the worst, most trashy reality TV you could find.
You’d spent all this time thinking that you’d never experience romantic love again, that romantic love was tumultuous and exhausting, when you’d been in love with Joel the whole time.
You were one of those people who were meant to love and be loved. Joel had proven that much to you.
“I love you too,” you confessed, toothpaste still obstructing your mouth.
Maybe love wasn't so bad after all.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fluff#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#joel miller imagine#pedro pascal x reader#soccer parents au
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Hi dear I hope you're doing well and I was hoping if you can do the whole greaser gang with a s/o that's like Fiona Gallagher from the show shameless? Like she's taking care of her six siblings and her dad who's usually at the bar or passed out somewhere. Their mother ran out and is mentally ill so their s/o is left to be her siblings mother/father/ and nurse fill free to ignore if you want to do and I hope you have a good day!
Summary: The Outsider x Fiona Gallagher!Reader Warnings:mentions of absent mother, drinking, very toxic adult behavior, dysfunctional family Author's Note: gonna be busy tmrw and weekend again, ill try and post 1 fic per day but no promises.
PONYBOY CURTIS
Ponyboy doesn’t really live in a dysfunctional family, yes his home life is tough but Darry loves him and tries his best and pony knows that
However, pony cant mentally put himself in Darry’s shoes of having no-one to lean on and having to take care of many siblings
When he first met you, he was absolutely smitten. And when you told him of your problems, he thought you were the toughest chick in town
He often asks Darry what to do to take a couple of burdens off your shoulder. He applies it to you and also at home, you’ve made him a better person.
JOHNNY CADE
Has a dysfunctional family and can understand, to an extent..he still gets fed sometimes and doesn’t have to work to stay in his home
But he doesn’t have a hard time adjusting to you.
He’s very open and loves your siblings, so he tries to take them out as many times as possible to give you some rest.
He genuinely doesnt understand how your parents could have left you doing all this by yourself when you’re such a perfect girl.
SODAPOP CURTIS
Soda admires you like you’re a work of art.
He takes everything into consideration, for example, if he wants to take you on a date he’ll invite some of the gang members to hang out with your siblings and keep them away
Never asks you for anything, not to rant, vent or anything. He feels as if his problems could never measure up to yours so his whole world revolves around you.
Tries to spend as much of his money as possible to get you nice things and spoil you.
STEVE RANDLE
Steve understands how tough it is for you mentally. He’ll often stop by your place with something for you, like a box of chocolates or something.
Whenever he’s over, he makes an effort to get to know and play with your siblings, he even was going to introduce himself to your dad. You convinced him it was a bad idea so he didnt.
He makes it known that you can tell him anything, literally anything, and he’d listen. He also wants you to know that you can call him anytime and he’d come for you.
Reassures you that he won’t ever leave you, that you’re special and he’s madly in love with you.
TWO-BIT MATHEWS
Two-Bit has some kid experience so he tries his hardest to keep your siblings company and even brings his sisters for ‘playdates’
Really enjoys spending time with you and would even do the chores around the house with you to keep talking with you.
He’s not very good at comforting people and he tries to make up for it by using his humor. You get where he’s coming from and it often helps a lot actually.
Tries his best to look nice for you when he comes over, he wants you to know he’s not a washed up nobody like your parents and wants to be a rolemodel to your siblings.
DARRY CURTIS
Often tells you that you’re perfect and that your siblings will grow so much better with you as their ‘parent’. He once made you cry because of what he said and he just held you in his arms while you sobbed.
He can sort of relate to what you’re going through but his is not as extreme as yours.
Whenever he can he drops by to help you. Date night consists of making dinner for your siblings, washing the dishes and having a late night dinner together after you put your siblings to bed.
He knows you'd make a perfect wife since he’s old enough to marry, just waiting on the right time to pop the question.
DALLAS WINSTON
Dallas is insensitive and rude to you. He knows what you’re going through, he just doesn’t care.
However, once you caught him putting on a bandaid for your younger brother. He wasn’t kind about it, saying things like “can’t you do this yourself?” but he still did it.
He knows you saw it and thinks that hanging around your house and helping you with chores and siblings will keep you quiet about it
He doesn’t like kids, but he tolerates them for his reputation, and because you’re growing on him.
#shroomsroom#clara'sroom#the outsiders x reader#dallas winston x reader#dally winston x reader#johnny cade x reader#steve randle x reader#pony curtis x reader#ponyboy curtis x reader#soda curtis x reader#sodapop curtis x reader#two bit mathews x reader#two bit matthews x reader#two bit x reader#darrel curtis x reader#darry curtis x reader
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PAC: What Would Happen If You Had a Friend Like You?
Hello beautiful people! I thank you guys so much for the support I’ve received over the past couple of months and even this past weekend. I will continue to make content that resonates with my collective. I am delivering my new PAC as promised, even though it was supposed to come out last night (oopsie lol). Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoy this one. It is inspired by tears and frustration of those who feel taken for granted in their friendships (including myself). Please don’t hesitate to book a reading with me if you would like to receive a personal reading. Without further ado, please select your pile.
Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)
Pile One: If you had a friend like you, PIle One, I think that you would meet them while working/interning for a company. I think that this person would be the fresh air to the heavy atmosphere surrounding y’all. I see that you are both sophisticated professionals who know how to handle conflict calmly for the most part. It’s hard for you both to “pop off” and this may be a problem within you guys’ friendship. You both must learn how to be okay with not letting things go off the hook. You must be intentional with the way you navigate or you will be screwed over every time. I feel that if you had a friend like you, you would be very suspicious of this person because you can’t put a finger on why you feel this way. This person will be equally suspicious. But once you actually talk to each other, you will share stories and experiences regarding business ideas, your dream career environments, many of you will bond over being the only women at work and even sharing secrets about your family dynamics. I could see that you will run a business with this person and it will be successful. It may take a while to hit this bump but it’s definitely possible. Lastly, beware of oversharing too soon or jumping to conclusions. Take it slow, babe. There will be slip ups between the both of you but it’s best that you become strict with yourself on what it means to have a healthy friendship.
Cards Used: Queen of Cups, The Chariot, The Emperor, The Tower (RX), 9 of Wands, 6 of Swords
extras: nipsey hussle. “motivate” saweetie. moldavite. overbite.
Pile Two: It’s very interesting how your story will play out, Pile Two. It’ll be a story to tell your grandchildren. So what I am getting from your pile is that you will meet your other half during a breakup. But the thing is, this person will partially be the reason for your breakup. I see the scenario of women getting played by a guy. The movie ‘John Tucker Must Die’ comes to mind. Also, the storyline between Teddy, Spencer and Skylar from Good Luck Charlie comes to mind. You guys will find comfort in each other during this painful period. Many people would stay away from “the other woman”, but you won’t because your situation is unique. I feel like if you are dealing with someone right now, they have two sides to them. They could have air sign placements. I feel like when you come face-to-face with this person, you will not feel any sort of anger or resentment towards them. You will cry in this person’s arms and immediately feel at home. But you should know that once you feel that you want to move on from this, the bond that once existed will change and this change will more than likely not be taken lightly. So enjoy your time with this person for the moment being, Pile Two. Have conversations with this person about how the dynamic will change overtime to prepare for it.
Cards Used:The World, 3 of Swords, Two of Cups, Wheel of Fortune, King of Cups (RX)
extras: igbo tribe. medulla. voguing practice. thelma and louise. grief counseling. hideous bangs.
Pile Three: I feel like this group is into music. You may want to move to one of the music capitals like Atlanta, Nashville, New York or Miami to pursue a music career. In my third eye, I am seeing snippets of the pilot episode of ‘Star’. The premise of the show is the formation, trials and tribulations of a girl group. There are two sisters and a best friend that are in this girl group. During the pilot, the blonde sister has to physically fight her sister’s abuser to bring her to Atlanta so that they can move to Atlanta with their aunt. After this, they are proactive in jumpstarting their career even with drama, drugs and whatnot clouding their future. Now, I feel like your friend will obviously be a newcomer in the music industry as well. It is best if y’all work together. I see that if this person has a kid, you will be the child’s godparent. I also see some notoriety, fame and recognition coming with this person once you all decide to work together. This will only happen because y’all collaborated; if y’all went solo, the same result would not happen. But you need to be aware of doing things in vain. You and them both need to think about each other because the spotlight can blind people’s true intentions. Think clearly. But I feel like y’all would actually be friends for a long time despite any differences that may occur because of vanity. There’s chemistry that y’all have with each other that you will not have with anyone else so cherish each other while you all are still here.
Cards Used: 10 of Cups, Four of Discs (RX), The Star, The Empress, 8 of Cups, 6 of Wands, King of Wands
extras: girl groups. ‘musically inclined.’ music industry. tlc. money grab. “cut the check.” “ain’t shit sweet.”
Pile Four: And last but not least, Pile Four. Your situation will involve meeting someone who is also addicted to something. You have their vices so do they. I am channeling the energy of Edward Norton and Maria Singer. They are liars. They show up at AA meetings for fun and catch each other in a lie. I feel like this friendship will be about holding each other accountable. I am also channeling Rue and her sponsor, Ali. They have an uncle-niece relationship. I believe that you all will have a significant difference in maturity. And this will be the reason why you bump heads. Someone believes that they know more than the other person because they’ve been doing it longer or they don’t believe that their vice is worthy of being taken seriously. Now, this vice could be drugs, sex, over/undereating, online shopping, gambling, playing video games, etc. Now, when you meet this person, you will be put off because you won’t know any better. But this person will leave a strong impact on your life. It is best that you keep them around because you won’t know what you got till it’s gone. Taking this person for granted will be the worst thing that you can do because there is no one else that will hold you accountable like them, Pile Four.
Cards Used: 9 of Discs, Princess of Cups, Temperance, 6 of Wands, The High Priestess, The Hermit, 9 of Wands
extras: low fade haircut. burning hair. electric slide. goal chaser. fear of death. close call. chewing ice.
#law of assumption#manifesting#neville goddard#tarot#hoodoo#tarotreading#astro notes#pick a card#pick a pile#divination#pac reading#tarotcommunity#spirituality#tarot deck#tarot pull#daily tarot#pick an image#pick a reading#free tarot#tarot cards#tarot pick a card#tarot pac#black tarot readers#tarot community#tarot reading#tarotblr#tarot witch#kpop tarot#Spotify
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With the final season of YR coming up, I’ve been thinking about Wille’s journey again. Because he’s 16, we won’t know if he actually chooses to renounce his title or remain in his role as future king, but I have a feeling this season will give us an indication which way it will go. So, before we get any type of confirmation, I want to get my current thoughts out. I’m aware that a lot of YR Tumblr skews toward King Wilhelm so my pro-renounce post might not resonate with anyone and that’s ok. I just want to put all my thoughts together before S3 comes along with something that totally blows all my opinions and assumptions out of the water 🙂 I understand the idea of wanting Wille to be King because he could be such a great leader. He is kind and compassionate and can be good at taking charge. BUT just because a person could be good at something, doesn’t mean they should be forced to do it. My number one reason for being in favor of Renouncing his Title is the sheer fact that Wille doesn’t want to be King. He doesn’t want the title. He doesn’t want that life. Wille has been shown a multitude of times talking about how he struggles with the duties that come with being a prince. Whether it’s with Erik:
Or August:
Or Boris:
(honestly, this boy will spill his guts to anyone who is willing to even half listen to him. My god. I’m so glad they gave this poor kid a therapist) He's also talked about how he feels trapped in this position. For him, to renounce the throne would be freedom. Freedom to live a life he actually wants.
Even the mere idea of staying in his current position makes him physically ill.
Some people take the end of episode 2x06 to mean he’s moved beyond all that and accepted his role as the future king. I didn’t personally see it that way. I saw it as a combination of a few things. 1) When come face-to-face with it, he just couldn’t let August give the speech (But the fact that he was initially willing to let someone who distributed revenge porn against him become king really speaks to how much he definitely doesn’t want that position) 2) He didn’t want Simon to have to compromise his happiness and give in to a situation he didn’t actually want 3) He didn’t want to hide anymore. He wanted to be himself. Wille is a person who craves authenticity. Which brings me to a bigger point… Life as the Crown Prince / King is inherently inauthentic. One of the main pro-King arguments is that he would blaze his own trail and do things his way. But how? Being a member of the royal family is a job. The basic responsibilities of that job are to do things like diplomatic visits, hosting events, being part of photo ops, schmoozing with people… pretty much all things having to do with putting on a public persona. It’s great that he could be himself in the sense that he would be the first queer Crown Prince / King, but the baseline duties he would have to fulfill are still inherently inauthentic. And I don’t know how he would “do it his way” aside from just not doing it. He hates putting on fake smiles
the photo ops
the schmoozing with people
Erik even told Wille, the way to get through that stuff is to just pretend to be someone else.
We know he’s capable of doing it. We saw how charming he could be at Parents Day weekend. But that was because he wanted to sit with Simon and impress Simon’s mom. Other than that lunch, he mostly hid in his room. And it goes back to my original point. Just because someone may be good at something doesn’t mean they should be forced to do it. (And yes, even if he walked away from the line of succession, he could still have familial obligations, but it wouldn’t be anywhere near the level of what is expected now) At this point, Wille is only continuing as Crown Prince because of a commitment to his family. Mainly Erik.
He doesn’t want to let him down or feel like he’s betraying his legacy. To Wille, Erik was perfect. We only saw two full conversations between them and in both conversations, Erik was telling Wille to get his act together because “it’s not that hard”.
That quote is probably something he told Wille a lot. So much that Wille later regurgitates it to Boris. Three different times.
Going on to say that Erik could handle everything easily.
Based on the fact that Erik was going to Boris, he probably wasn’t managing everything with ease. But in Wille’s perception, he was. Wille is basically chasing a ghost. Self-imposed pressure of unattainable perfection. He bears a guilt that pushes him to want to be someone he thinks Erik would be proud of. The problem with that is, Erik was a monarchist. Maybe he struggled a bit (which is why he went to Boris), but based on the things he would say to Wille, he backed the monarchy / family completely.
Ultimately, I just want Wille to be happy. Maybe S3 will completely change my outlook and I’ll root for him to become king because that’s what he wants. But right now, I think he only wants it out of a sense of obligation to Erik. And honestly…maybe my most controversial opinion…if he did stay in his position because of Erik, he probably wouldn’t change that much within the institution. I mean, he couldn’t change much even if he wanted to. He wouldn’t be allowed to do big things without the consent of the Swedish parliament and maybe a public referendum. And I doubt he’d even have the capability to make small changes. As already pointed out by @piebingo in this great post, Kristina didn’t actually want August to be next in line. But she was overruled. The Royal Court has a lot of power and making any sort of reforms or independent decisions is not that simple. Especially within an establishment that relies on keeping everything exactly the same. But even if that weren’t true. Even if Wille could snap his fingers and make all these huge changes… part of me doesn’t think he would. I know a lot of the folks who are pro-King Wilhelm want him to become the king just so he can completely destroy it from within. But to me, in Wille’s eyes there would be no bigger betrayal to Erik’s legacy than Wille burning the institution to the ground. And if he wants to live up to Erik’s legacy. Not betray him. Not let him down. He will act as he thinks Erik would act. If Wille becomes king because of Erik, he’ll maintain the establishment because of Erik. And he would be miserable doing it. Miserable and without Simon. Yes, my other controversial opinion. If Wille stayed as king, Wilmon wouldn’t make it. Simon is described to us as a socialist. One of his introductory scenes is him calling the monarchy the country’s biggest welfare scammers. I can’t imagine Simon giving up his musical dreams to join an institution that he hates. I also can’t imagine Wille letting him do that. That was such a big part of Wille’s growth in Season 2. Wille wouldn’t let Simon sacrifice his happiness for the sake of his own happiness (being with Simon). Even if Simon didn’t end up pursuing something in music, he made it clear in his talk with Rosh and Ayub that he wants to work hard to make something of himself.
I mean, look at him. Look at this sweet baby angel’s face when he’s told he has an opportunity that will open doors to his future. I can’t imagine him giving up his ambitions or autonomy to become prince consort. Having to live every day under royal rules and protocols. Maybe he would. I personally can’t see it. And finally, I know a main reason people like the idea of King Wille is because we like the idea of a queer king. But as much as we all want queer representation; I don’t think it should be anybody’s responsibility to be the political representation that people want to see. Wille shouldn’t be in a position he hates because he’s queer. A queer person living their life and getting out of a toxic situation is also good representation. A person can’t fix the problem by becoming part of it. Having him be the face of an institution that’s been about exploitation and oppression isn’t going to solve it. It's always been said by Lisa and Edvin that Wille’s problem is not that he’s queer. It’s that he’s a prince. Everything about what’s making him unhappy is about him being prince / the future king. Him walking away from his title would be about him escaping a future that would make him miserable. Personally, that’s what I’m hoping for.
#I’m sure all of this will be useless when S3 comes out#Since Wille is only 16 it’s pretty useless now 😅#But I’m happy to finally have these S1 and S2 thoughts out of my head#young royals#pro (eventual) abdication
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strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader
before - part one
series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3
it’s summer in austin, and you and joel meet for the first time.
a/n: the joel miller brain rot is real and your advocate is here to help! masterlist will be up shortly, special thank yous and shout outs to @psychedelic-ink @allfoolsinluv and @gnollengrom for letting me scream about this fic in your dms 🤍 I have thought of little else for the last 48 hours
word count: 3.4k
warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI - this part is not explicit but other parts will be, masterlist has further warnings, but no real warnings for this part except a lot of fluff?? and banter?? and I’m obsessed kthanksbyeeeee
✨I no longer have a taglist - if you’d like to be notified of new works/chapters, follow @friskito-library and turn notifications on!✨
You meet Joel Miller long before the world implodes.
It’s 2001, you’re fresh out of college, relocated to Austin, Texas where your parents have taken over an old hardware store that once belonged to your grandfather. Nowhere else to go and nothing else to do for the time being, you spend most of your time in the store, stocking shelves and chatting with customers, learning the different things the store keeps on hand, what has to be shipped in special order. It’s not much, but it’s something to do; you’re just happy to be back with your family after four long years at college. Sure, you came home for holidays when you could, but it wasn’t the same.
It still isn’t the same, not really.
The house you live in is foreign to you, not the same roof you grew up under. The people are the same, your parents clearly happy to have you back, your little sister overjoyed to have someone in her corner again. Austin is nice, the weather warmer than you’re used to after four years in Michigan, but it’s a welcome change. Summer seems to go on forever, and your weekends are spent basking in the sun, finding new places to explore, wandering the shops that neighbour the hardware store and beyond.
And then one day, everything changes.
You’re stood at the end of one of the aisles, fixing a stubborn display of plaster tubs that won’t stay upright, when you hear the bells over the door chime, announcing the arrival of a customer. You don’t stray far from the display, calling out a good morning! and returning to your work. Your sister is perched behind the register, flipping through an old magazine, and you hear the tell-tale squeak of work boots on the linoleum, the sound now all too familiar to your ears.
The boots move in your direction, but you pay the sound little mind until it grows closer. Most people who come into the store know what they’re looking for, and your parents had been careful to keep everything in the same aisles and shelves they’d been on for the past decade, so as to not disrupt the regular customers. From the corner of your eye, scuffed, dark boots step a little closer, and your eyes drag over from the display, taking in the man before you.
You try really hard not to let your eyes linger everywhere, but it’s hard. He’s…well, he’s hot. Dark hair, dark eyes, patchy facial hair that really shouldn’t work as well as it does. Long legs covered in dark jeans, a t-shirt that’s definitely seen better days and is straining against his broad shoulders and thick arms. It’s a classic look you’ve come to associate with every guy who works construction in Austin, but right off the bat, you know there’s something different about this one.
“Hi there,” he says, his southern drawl not as intense as some other folks you’ve talked to, but still there, coupled with a little quirk to his lips, an almost-smile that makes you instantly desperate to see the full thing.
“Hi,” you breathe out, curling your fingers around the metal shelving in front of you, abandoning the plaster display.
“I’m lookin’ for a quarter-inch drill bit,” he spits, nearly stuttering the request out. You’re stuck still for a moment, absolutely enamoured by the man before you. And it makes your own lips twitch, the way his cheeks flare red and he drops his gaze after a moment, rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m also assuming you work here but I now realize you don’t have a name tag or anything so I’ll just—”
You clap a hand over your chest dramatically. “Shoot. Must have left the stupid thing in the back.” He lifts his head, eyes going wide, the almost-smile returning. “Follow me.”
He follows you like a little lost puppy a few aisles down from where you were standing. He’s taller than you, by nearly a head, those broad shoulders almost blocking out the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. You may or may not let your hips swing a little harder as you walk.
“Any specific brand you’re looking for?” you ask over your shoulder, coming to a stop in front of the pegboard that holds bits of all sorts of sizes. “Or just a quarter-inch?”
“As long as it fits in my drill,” he answers, and you turn to the board, scanning for the right size. You can feel his eyes lingering on you, and you’re basking in it. When you find the right one, you pluck it off the hook and hand it to him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” you say, shoving your hands in the back pockets of your jeans after he takes it from you. “If it doesn’t fit, just bring it back and I’ll make sure you get the right one.”
The corner of his mouth twitches and he looks between you and the little package a few times, tapping it against the flat of his palm. His lips part, like he’s about to say something, but then your sister calls your name and your head snaps up.
“Come on up to the front when you’re ready,” you say, feeling a little bold and touching his arm as you step past him, “and I’ll cash you out.”
He watches you walk away, too.
“I need coffee,” your sister declares as soon as you’re within view of the front counter. “You want anything?”
“Nah, I’m good,” you reply, stepping behind the register, righting a cup of pens that’s fallen over. She slips down from the stool, flipping her magazine shut, and brushes past you, just as a now familiar deep voice reaches your ears.
“Thanks again,” tall, dark, and handsome says, approaching the counter with the drill bit and a tub of plaster from the display you’d been fixing in his hands. Your sister steps around him as he walks up, and turns to look at you over his shoulder, her jaw dropped, giving you two thumbs up. Your cheeks flare with heat, but you ignore it, taking the bit and the plaster when he sees them on the counter. “Are you new here?” he asks, and then rubs his hand up the back of his head, turning sheepish again. “Here being Austin, I mean. Haven’t seen you around before.”
You can’t help but grin back at him. “New-ish. Moved back at the beginning of the summer after I finished college. My parents took over this place after my grandfather died, and I can’t afford rent in the city, so here I am.” You ring up his purchase, tell him his total, and he fishes for his wallet, digging in the front pocket of his jeans. “For now, anyway.”
He presses his lips together as he pulls a twenty out of his wallet and hands it to you. “Maybe I’ll see you around again sometime.”
You punch in the right amount, letting the register drawer hit your hip as it shoots open. “Maybe you will.” You hand him his change, and as you press the bills and coins into his waiting hand, you offer your name with it.
“Joel,” he says by way of answer, and your chest puffs a little with the knowledge. “Miller. Joel Miller.”
Your grin widens. “Well, you have yourself a good day, Joel Miller. Hope I see you soon.”
He takes the bit and the plaster and takes a step backwards, walking directly into a display stand holding rolls of bright green and blue painters tape, sending it toppling to the floor. “Ah, shit, I’m sorry,” he grumbles, and you step around the counter, dropping to your knees, catching the tape as it rolls in a million different directions.
“Don’t worry about it,” you tell him earnestly, righting the stand and getting back to your feet. “Now I have something to do.”
“You sure?” he asks, straightening, his cheeks burning red. “I’m sorry, again.”
“Don’t worry about it, again,” you laugh, gesturing towards the front door. “I’ll see you, Joel.”
“See you,” he replies, tacking your name onto the end, and you have to ignore the way the sound of your name on his lips sends a prickle up the back of your neck.
You watch as he walks out the door, the bell ringing again as he departs, getting into a pick-up truck that has definitely seen better days parked at the curb. He scrubs a hand over his face as he starts the engine, and then turns and looks at you through the glass, lifting a hand in a wave before he pulls away from the store. You lift your hand to return the farewell, and your sister walks through the door a moment later, two coffees in her hands, pushing one into your grip even though you said you didn’t want one. You sip it anyway.
“Who was that?” she asks, bumping her hip into yours.
“Joel Miller.”
+
He comes into the store nearly every day for a week. Always looking for something new, another drill bit or packages of nails and screws, a hammer, rolls of tape. He’s a carpenter, you learn, and goes bright red when you hint that must mean he’s good with his hands.
Your conversations are always brief, but sweet. He asks what you went to school for, admits he never got past a high school education, laughs when you tell him he seems to be doing pretty well for himself despite that. He shows up one morning with coffees for both you and your sister, and a box of doughnuts, earning a squeal from your sister and a bright thanks Joel from yourself. One afternoon, he’s in a hurry, having run out of drywall screws, cursing that he left his wallet at the job site, and you wave him off, all but pushing him out the door with a new box.
Then Monday rolls around, and you find yourself watching the door, waiting for the bell to signal his arrival. Every time the bell does ring, you jump, stepping out of whatever aisle you’re in, checking to see who’s walked inside.
“I’m sure he’ll come by tomorrow,” your sister says when the clock hits two and there’s still no sign of him. “He’s probably just busy.”
“I know,” you say, brushing it off best you can.
The rest of the day passes like molasses, the minutes ticking by so slow you’re half sure the clock on the wall is broken. You even go so far as to check the batteries, earning a laugh from your sister. You curse yourself for flinching every time the door opens, doubly so when your father arrives to take over for the evening and you jump so hard you drop the stack of sandpaper boxes in your hands. “Sorry, honey,” he laughs, helping you pick up the boxes. “Long day?”
“Something like that,” you reply, putting the sandpaper on the right shelf before heading for the counter to grab your bag. “See you at home!”
Your father waves without looking, but calls your name before you can walk out the door. “Someone’s at the house, just so you know. Your mother’s home, of course, but I hired a guy to look at the back porch, asked him to fix the light in the hallway too.”
“Shouldn’t you be able to fix that yourself,” you joke with a smile, “since you own a hardware store and all?”
He just waves you off. “Get outta here.”
You laugh, pushing the door open, the bells jingling above your head as you step through. It’s just before dinner time, the sun starting to hang a little lower in the sky. The inside of your car feels like a sauna when you slide into the driver’s seat, and you blast the air conditioning, turning up the radio loud enough you can hear it over the noise. It’s a quick drive from the store to your house, and you’re too distracted by the song that’s playing on the radio to notice the rusty pick-up parked at the curb.
If it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad.
Your mother is sitting in the kitchen when you walk through the door, calling her hellos, and you dump your keys and bag before bee-lining for the bathroom. The house is all one level, one bathroom shared between the four of you, and you flick on the light, turn on the shower, strip down quickly. The warm water is a balm for the long day, the tension that had been sitting between your shoulders melting away beneath the spray.
You wrap yourself in a towel afterward, collecting your clothes from the floor before flicking the light off again. You’re still humming the song from the radio as you open the door, wiping a drop of water from your cheek and—
“Joel?”
“Shit!” he mumbles, dropping the screwdriver in his hand. He’s standing right outside the bathroom, balanced on a step-stool. Fixing the light; you remember what your father had said. You’re instantly flushed, starkly aware of the fact that you’re basically naked except for a towel, dripping water and your underwear is basically dangling from your hand. “I’m sor—fuck!” The stool wobbles and out of instinct, you grab for him, planting your hand on his stomach. He’s reaching over his head still, and the bottom of your hand meets bare skin, his t-shirt riding up slightly.
“You good?” you ask, pressing your lips together as he balances himself. You move your hand, carefully bending your knees and picking up the screwdriver from where it landed on the floor. “Here.”
“Thank you,” he says softly, taking it from you, jaw working as he chews the inside of his lip. His cheeks are as red as your whole body feels. “Sorry, I’m—”
“I should go!” you say quickly, and side-step him, bolting out of the bathroom doorway and straight into your bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you. Your clothes tumble to the ground as soon as you’re inside, clapping a hand over your mouth as the towel nearly slips off of you. “Oh my god.”
+
You open the store by yourself the next day, your sister claiming she has the flu, your father with a golf game he can’t miss, and your mother with ‘far too many things to do around the house’. You don’t mind it; it’s usually quiet in the mornings, with the exception of the week of Joel, where he’d shown up at nine o’clock nearly on the dot each day.
Once your father got home last night, you’d all but interrogated him. Turns out, Joel had stopped by the store late the night before, walking in just before closing, and he and your dad got to talking. When the subject of the creaky back porch and the broken hallway light came up, Joel had offered his services, and your father had accepted.
A minute after you’ve flipped the sign from closed to open and unlocked the door, a now-familiar pick-up truck pulls up to the parking spot outside the curb. You inhale sharply, nerves and embarrassment in your gut, and you turn away from the door, heading towards the counter, you back to the door as it jingles open.
Joel Miller calls your name. You nearly freeze, but continue your steps until you’re safely behind the counter. You hear his boots squeak on the floor as he approaches, but you can’t bring yourself to lift your head until he’s standing right in front of you, saying your name again.
“Morning, Joel.”
“About yesterday,” he says instantly, a hand reached into the space between you, landing in a loose fist on the countertop. “I had no idea that you were—that it would—” He blows out a breath, ducking his head before meeting your eyes. “I’m sorry, is what I’m tryin’ to say.”
“Y’know, I usually make a man buy me dinner before he sees me half-naked,” you say, the line rolling off your tongue before you can stop yourself. Joel balks, and you clap a hand over your mouth, nervous giggles pouring out of you. “Oh my god, that was cheesy, I’m sorry. And it’s okay, for the record. I should have checked the hallway before I walked out.”
He laughs, you laugh, and the idea sparks in your mind. Your hands move of their own accord, reaching for a pen and a scrap of receipt paper. You scribble out your phone number, accompanied by a little smiley face after the last digit.
“Here,” you say, pushing the paper across the counter, nudging his hand with your own. “Why don’t you take this, and maybe we can see each other someplace besides the paint aisle or outside my bathroom.” When he doesn’t answer right away, that sick feeling of rejection crawls up your throat, and you nearly snatch the paper back. “Or we could just pretend it never happened.”
“Can’t do that,” he murmurs, and his voice is so low and inviting you can’t help but lean across the counter slightly. His eyes dart to the clock on the wall and he curses under his breath. “Shit, I’m gonna be late.” He grabs the paper, folding it up and tucking it into the pocket on his t-shirt. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay,” you reply, nodding, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he touches his hand to yours, fingers glancing over your wrist before he pulls away. He steps backward again, eyes not leaving yours. Thankfully there’s no display in his path for him to topple over, but he only looks away when he reaches the door, that almost-smile you’ve been chasing since the first day you met spreading into a full-blown grin that sends butterflies shooting through your stomach. “Bye, Joel.”
“Bye,” he replies, your name a near-whisper afterward.
As soon as the door shuts, the tinkle of bells echoing, you slump across the counter with a squeal. The bells ding again a second later, and you shoot upright, schooling your face into a normal-looking smile and greeting the customer that’s just walked through the door.
+
It’s nearly ten o’clock that night, when your phone rings.
You’re lounging in bed, a book propped against your knees, Sheryl Crowe crooning out of your stereo. The robotic ring makes you jump, and you hit the answer button quickly, lifting the phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Sorry, I know it’s late,” Joel says, and you smile, sinking deeper into the pillows. “Had a long day, and I almost didn’t call, but I really wanted to.”
“I’m glad you did,” you reply, letting the book fall shut on your lap. “What made your day so long?”
It’s easy conversation, the two of you chatting for a good hour. He talks about the job site he’s been working at, his brother that works with him, how his truck nearly broke down when he went to leave, making him late to get home. The call only comes to an end when you’re both making each other yawn, mumbling apologies every time.
“I should let you get some sleep,” Joel nearly whispers, his voice so soft through the phone you barely hear it. “Didn’t mean to keep you up so late.”
“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” you quip, rolling onto your side, keeping the phone pressed to your ear. “But I like talking to you, just for the record.”
“I like talking to you, too,” he replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Just for the record.”
“Are you making fun of me?” you ask, faking shock. He laughs.
“Nah, I just like the way you talk, darlin’,” he says, and the pet name makes you shiver. “I’ll let you go.”
“You didn’t ask,” you say quickly, and he pauses, dead air on the line for a moment.
“What?”
“I said you could make it up to me,” you tell him, rolling onto your back, glancing out the window at the moon, big and white in the dark sky. “That was your opening to ask me out.”
Another pause, and you’re holding your breath, chewing your lip.
“Have dinner with me on Friday?”
You hum, beaming into the phone. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Joel barks a laugh, the biggest one you’ve gotten out of him yet, and you smile harder. “You’re trouble.”
“You’re the one having dinner with me,” you shoot back, and he laughs again, softer this time. “Goodnight, Joel.”
You can tell he’s still smiling. “Goodnight.”
NEXT
#my fics#strawberry wine#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fluff#joel miller angst#the last of us#the last of us fic#the last of us spoilers
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Forgiven Not Forgotten | Part 7
Never let it be said that the Harringtons knew how to go small. They didn’t. The quaint little two bed they’d been living in was always going to be temporary if Steve came home. Even if it was now… technically theirs. It was a nice house, perfect for many a small family, which technically they were.
But they were also… filthy stinking rich.
The Harringtons didn’t really know how to go and stay small. Which is why by the following weekend, Eddie’s release from hospital looming upon them and the two bed house feeling more and more cramped by the day, they already had a cash offer in place on a five bedroom estate in Bloomington.
Five bedrooms, four bathrooms, a finished basement games room, just under eight acres of land, a pool, and an extra little pool house outfitted as a detached bungalow on the property.
The little house they’d lived in… given it was theirs, well. They had no real plans for it yet. Selling it on was a potential, it was too far from the estate to even contemplate handing the keys to one of the families linked to theirs through their children’s shared trauma, although that’d be a nice gesture on their part, the idea of separating their kids after such an ordeal?
Nope. They’d clung to each other. Kept each other alive. They needed each other.
One of the reasons they even chose the bigger property was because “It’s big enough for you all to be there.” That’s what Lynda had told Steve when he’d asked about it. “It’s not going to happen for another couple of weeks, so the house is still going to be a little cramped with everyone in it, but…”
“We have no intentions of separating you from your family, Steven.” John finished for her, nodding over Steve’s shoulder to the multiple sets of eyes watching them. “Like your mother said, what we have now is too cramped, this new place will have plenty of room for everyone.”
“And… what about when their parents turn up?” Because it was a when, not an if. “Just gonna go back to an empty house?” They were operating on when. Nevermind that they’d never seen their parents get out of Hawkins. Nevermind that the only parent they knew for certain was alive and well outside of Joyce and Hopper, was Karen Wheeler, Ted having put himself between his kids and a Demogorgon during the early days and hadn’t come out as the victor. It didn’t matter that they’d seen horrors beyond anything a child should have to witness.
The kids needed to operate on when.
“Then we’ll help them find homes in the area, but until then, the house will be… a home base of sorts. A comfortable starting point for all of you so you’re not too far away from each other, it’ll never be an empty house, Steven. I know it might look like we’re just spending money for the sake of it but… it’s not like that anymore.” They weren’t doing that anymore. They’d found a better way than being away from home all the time. John worked from a home office and delegated important tasks and jobs to others to free up his time, and Lynda decided she wanted to be at home.
They were just glad Steve was allowing them to just decide to be there for him all of a sudden. He didn’t have to.
“…Forgive me if I still doubt that.” No amount of tearful apologies could erase all that history “But thanks, for… for thinking of us. It’s true, we kinda stuck together like glue after Mr Wheeler…” he trailed off. After they’d gotten Karen and Holly out of that house while Ted held back that shaking door, huge, clawed fingers tearing through wood. He still remembered Holly’s screams, still remembered Karen crying, begging them to go back as Nancy and Mike dragged her out, Holly running straight to Steve. “We were never far apart from each other.” It’d be weird without them, unsettling when the dust finally settled. When parents returned to claim their kids.
“And you wont be.” John placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, firm, squeezing it in comforting reassurance. “You won’t be.”
~~
“Aaaand this is your room.” Had it not been for the fact that Eddie had been in a coma for the last god only knows, where he could, with rules, conjure ridiculous shit, he’d have probably assumed he was still out.
He had a room. In what was essentially. A mansion. But he’d never seen it before, so he wasn’t still in his funky little void because he wouldn’t have been able to conjure it.
Only what he’d seen, only places he’d been.
He had his own room. Bigger than his old one at the trailer because of course it was. Currently empty of personal belongings, void of personality, but Steve was holding boxes. Boxes with stuff in them, rolled up tubes of paper, stuff wrapped in newspapers, and he was setting those boxes down one by one inside the room. “…What’s in those?”
“Shit we saved from the trailer, it’s not much but… it’s something.” Eddie silently turned to just. Stare at him. Brows furrowed, confusion so evident Steve had to ask “what?”
“…How long has it been since I died, Steve?” He had to ask again, just to be sure of something, even if it was a weird question to ask.
“Bout two years, why?”
“… And in that time, Hawkins basically ate shit, right?”
“Yup, where’s this going?”
“How’d you save my stuff for that long? Why did you save my stuff for that long? Shit couldn’t have been easy to keep safe, right? So… why?” Steve fell silent, his jaw shifting, lips pursing, visibly going through all the possible reasons he could have saved that stuff, all the reasons why he would have saved that stuff, all the potential excuses, the boy would be terrible at poker.
He settled on shrugging his shoulders.
“Because I did. Because I could. Like I said, it’s not much.” It was so much. Not quantity wise, no… Steve was right there wasn’t much in those boxes, probably why Steve could carry multiple at a time but it meant so much. Steve obviously wasn’t going to go into the why’s or the how’s with him though. He was going to brush them away, without answers. “We saved some mugs, there’s some posters in here, uhh, I got a bunch of your tapes and your deck, I wish I could say I saved your guitars but… I’m sorry man, it was just too risky carting around something that could make noise. I think… they might still be there but—”
“It’s fine, Steve… this—this is way more than I could have asked for.” He could always get a new guitar, eventually. It’d mean saving up somehow, or using some of the hush money that the government had promised him for signing, he was planning on using that to find Wayne though.
It’d been over a week, the hospital had slowly been cleared of survivors, the Sinclair’s were the only parents who’d made it thus far, having been staying with Sue’s sister a few towns over doing the exact same thing as the Harringtons. Waiting. Hoping. Praying for news on their kids, any news. Anything.
They’d taken the Harrington’s offer to stay in the converted pool house with Karen until they could get housing arranged, the kids staying in the main house with everyone else.
“Yeah well… we’ll sort you out a new one eventually. Can’t leave the bard without his instrument, right?” Eddie’s wide eyes were on him again, a beaming smile spreading across his lips, dimpling his cheeks, stretching the scar tissue on his jaw, and Steve had to look away, he had to, because otherwise he just might fall again, and he couldn’t… he couldn’t make that mistake twice.
“Be still my beating heart, was that a D&D reference, Harrington?” He could feel the warmth seeping into his cheeks at the attention, as Eddie leaned in a little closer, got into his space, it’d been so long since someone had paid him any attention. Even if it meant nothing to Eddie, even if he was just being silly, be still his own beating heart.
“Maybe. Now get to unpacking your shit.” He put the last of the boxes down on the bed, purposefully turning away from Eddie to hide his reddening face, to hide what he knew Eddie had never wanted to see. “We’ll be heading out into town in an hour to find us all some new clothes, maybe some new stuff for the rooms too. Hop to it.”
“You’re not gonna help lil ol me unpack? I just got out of hospital!” Eddie called after him as Steve made to leave the room.
“With a clean bill of health! You can manage a few boxes!” And he was gone. Running away. Like a coward.
#PirateWrites#ForgivenNotForgottenFiclet#Steddie#Post!S5#Mentions of Kas Eddie#Hurt/Comfort#Miscommunication
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Pub Crawl - Kevin Magnussen x MalteseOlympicLacrosse! Reader
Plot: Having attended university in the UK and becoming a professional at Lacrosse meant you often stayed in the UK but what happens when your offered the opportunity to compete for your country in the Olympics!
You and Kevin were used to the constant travelling. You travelled as much as you physically could with Kevin. You would train with your team during the week and then get a late night flight to whoever he was in the world late night on the Friday to try and get to him by Qualifying on the Saturday.
However, the last few weeks had been shambles, you’d been in a National match in the UK, seeing your teammates and training more after finding out you’d gotten a place in the Olympics on their Lacrosse Team for your home country Malta.
“Girls?” You say reading the letter with a shocked expression on your face.
“What, oh! That’s your Olympic letter!” One of your team mates from your English team squeals.
“I- I got in!” You cheer celebrating! You rushed all the way home thrusting the letter in Kevin’s face.
“Baby look! I’m going to the Olympics” you say before he even has a chance to read the letter.
“Oh my gosh, that’s incredible” he says lifting you up and placing a light kiss in your forehead before keeping you in his warm embrace rocking you side to side.
Then it was the British Grand Prix that you’d been able to go to from the Thursday to Sunday as you were already in the UK from your previous tournament.
It was a nice change for Kevin to have you their to support him for the whole weekend and it was nice to have him with you for your tournament, being that it was in a Tuesday.
“Ah don’t you just love the atmosphere of Silverstone, there’s only a few races I think beat this for the vibe” you smile leaning on the out wall, taking in the rare summer sun that had graced the track.
“Mmmm it’s definitely one of my favourites” he smiles. Kevin had been having a difficult season despite Haas actually doing pretty well thanks to Nico.
“I know it’s been a difficult season and I know they’ve confirmed that you aren’t … coming back to Haas but there’s other options right?” You smile encouragingly. He just shakes his head.
“I think … I think I’m ready to go. I want to focus on what’s important to me” he says reaching out for your hand and pulling it into his lap.
“Wait, really? Your retiring?” You ask and he nods.
“There’s so many things I want to start in life with you. Like a family … and I want to be there full time for it. It doesn’t mean I won’t ever race again but I definitely need a break”
You can’t help but just pull him into a hug.
“I want all of that too”
After the British GP, it was the Euros. Originally you were supposed to go with Lando, as you both had been invited by the English Team however all of your friends were watching on from a pub in the UK.
So you and Kevin stayed watching England vs Spain from a busy pub in the UK. Kevin loved pubs in the UK which ended up turning into your friends taking you guys on a massive pub crawl across London and drinking England’s loss to Spain.
Needless to say, you and Kevin had an incredible night but regretted it the next morning when you both woke up in your friends apartment hungover.
After that it was the Hungarian Grand Prix where you didn’t attend because you were off training in Malta with your team and making funny TikTok’s with your team gear.
You started training with your team, and you hadn’t spoken to Kevin in person in what seemed like ages where Spa was right after Hungary.
“Hey baby I miss you” you’d said to him on the phone that he was very close to.
“I know baby and I’ll be back in France soon! It’s not that far a drive from Belgium” he told you with a smile on his face.
Then a knock sounds from your hotel room door.
“Gimme one second, I think one of the girls is at my door” you say before running to open the door.
“KEV!” You screech dropping your phone and jumping into his arms.
“Hello Elskede” he smiles and you look shocked.
“W-what are you doing here?” You ask in shock.
“You don’t think I’d miss your first game do you?” He asks in a teasing tone and you pull him into a kiss.
“Thank you! I love you so much” you smile.
y/user
Liked by kevinmagnussen and haasf1team
y/user: It’s been a dream of mine to compete for my country since I was a little kid. Thank you Olympics2024 and Team Malta for giving me a shot on your Lacrosse Team 🇲🇹 🥍 🥇
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fan1: what a summer, we get the Euros, the Olympics and all these F1 races.
kevinmagnussen: I’m so proud of you. TEAM MALTA 🇲🇹
-> y/user: Thank you my love 🫶🏼❤️
haasf1team: Let’s go Y/N, sibt dan! 🇲🇹🏴
-> Thank you! Well done on an incredible season so far! 🇺🇸
fan2: I cannot wait to see her compete! Going for Gold ⭐️
Instagram Story Caption:
Cheeky Stop in London before Paris begins 🏴⚽️
Taglist:
@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#kevin magnussen#kevin magnussen x reader#Kevin Magnussen fic#Kevin Magnussen fanfic#km20#km20 fanfic#km20 x reader#km20 fic
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On the first day of his last year of high school, Soos finds out that no one in Gravity Falls, Oregon is a foster parent.
He’s sitting in the hallway of the hospital with a police officer and social worker as they explain to him that even though he’s 17, he has no legal parent or guardian. It’s the day he find out his Dad terminated his parental rights.
They tell him that the nearest set of registered foster parents is about a 3 hour drive away, which doesn’t give him much time to pack.
While he’s packing up his things at the house, their landline starts ringing. Soos goes to answer it and is met with gruff spanish he doesn’t hear very often.
“Hola señora, ¿cómo está Soos? No lo he visto y sé que es su primer día de regreso a la escuela. Le dije que no había trabajo la primera semana, pero por lo general viene para al menos contarme cómo le fue y solo quería asegurarme de que estaba bien.”
Soos stands speechless for a moment. He’s unable to get the words out in Spanish.
“Hi Mr. Pines, um, I won’t be able to come into work anymore.”
“Soos? Kid, are you alright?”
“Abuela passed away this morning. It turns out there aren’t any foster parents in town, and the nearest couple is 3 hours away, so I’m glad you called because I wanted to let you know that I won’t be able to come back to work. The social worker is having me pick up my things right now, I don’t know if they’ll let us drive past the Shack so I can-“
“Soos, I need you to pass the phone to the social worker for me.”
He does, and before he realizes what’s happening, Soos is being packed into the car and driving down familiar roads. Mr. Pines must have convinced them that Soos wanted to say goodbye and when the arrive he’s shocked to see him sitting on the front porch in clothes that aren’t the Mr. Mystery costume or his weekend tank top and boxers. He’s dressed in slacks and a clean dress shirt with no embellishments. He looks like he shaved.
Soos leaves his bag in the car to say goodbye and is surprised when the social worker grabs it for him.
“Mr. Pines, thank you for offer of temporary guardianship as we sort out Jesus’s situation. It’ll be easier for him to stay close for the funeral and in making decisions about his grandmother’s estate.”
Mr. Pines has an expression Soos has never seen and can’t figure out. The man is always smiling or grumbling and now he’s just nodding and offering his hand to the social worker before turning to Soos.
“Hey, Soos. Why don’t you take your bag and go get set up? I cleaned out the room on the first floor for you, I’ll be right in.”
***
Soos had been in this part of the Shack many times over the years, usually to work on homework with Mr. Pines after work or to eat tamales that his Abuela had asked him to send along.
He finds the room Mr. Pines was talking about and sees that everything looks like it’s been hastily cleaned and stored away. The room itself looks the same with a bed, dresser, closet, rug, and desk all freshly, if haphazardly, wiped down.
He sets down his bag and sits on the bed, unsure if he should unpack. Unsure how long he’s staying.
An indeterminate amount of time later, he notices Mr. Pines standing in the doorway and must startle, because Mr. Pines raises his hands a little looking sheepish.
“Didn’t mean to startle you, kid. Sorry.”
He continues to stand a bit oddly in the doorway before sighing, grabbing the desk chair, and pulling it so that he’s facing Soos.
“Look, there are a couple of things you and I should talk about, and I know this is all going a bit fast, so once I let you know what’s going on I’ll try and slow it down a bit. Do you have any questions?”
“Er, how long am I staying here?”
“Well, see, we kind of need to figure that one out together. I got you placed in my custody temporarily since I told them I’m a friend of the family, and it’ll take a while to sort out the foster parent paper work-“
“But, Mr. Pines, I’m your handyman. I don’t-“
“Kid, if you think I’m letting them ship you off to some yahoos from God knows where before we’ve even had a chance to hold the funeral-“
And Soos swears he didn’t mean to, he’s almost 18 and he hasn’t cried in a long time, but it’s been a long day and it’s really setting in that Mr. Pines is taking him in and that Abuela is dead.
Mr. Pines is next to him quickly and Soos realizes this is the first time he’s been hugged by Mr. Pines that didn’t have some sort of odd excuse to avoid seeming awkward.
When Soos has cried himself out he breathes for a minute and lets himself enjoy the fact that Mr. Pines is hugging him and then pulls back to get a good look at him and wipe his eyes.
Soos’s tear tracks are on Mr. Pines’s shirt and his eyes look a little red, but otherwise he appears to be holding together better than Soos.
“You’re staying with me now, alright? I’ll help you sort out the funeral and moving your stuff over here, and talk to your school. You’re still a kid, and even if you weren’t, I’m not letting you do this by yourself. I’ll need your help though, since I haven’t met any of your other family and I don’t know who I should be trying to get in contact with and all. But we can sort that out tomorrow or the day after.”
“Am I going to school tomorrow?”
“Nah, kid. I’ll call you in until we can get everything figured out. Come on, I should figure out what we’re doing for dinner and then I’ll let you pick something on tv. Or I mean, we can talk if you need…”
Soos shakes his head a bit. He doesn’t know what he’d say. It feels wrong, sitting in this house and doing normal things that he’d otherwise be excited by. He’d always wanted Mr. Pines’s approval, but not at the cost of his Abuela.
And for everything to just keep going made his chest hurt. Mr. Pines was right, all of this felt like it was going too fast because none of it should be happening at all. He should have had years with his Abuela, he should have got to come home and tell her about his first day of senior year and talk her ear off about all the cool new exhibits he and Mr. Pines were putting together.
But that wouldn’t ever happen again.
Mr. Pines put his arm around Soos’s shoulders and led him out into the kitchen.
***
What cut through the misery and strangeness and wrongness of grieving his Abuela were the changes he saw in Mr. Pines.
He was… gentler.
Soos was used to the gruff and sometimes abrasive personality of his employer. Now foster parent. But he did not know the man who woke him up for school in the morning, made breakfast, packed lunch, and cooked dinner. Who called his extended family, helped him pack his Abuela’s house, helped him with homework, and stood next to him on a Tuesday in September as they said goodbye to his Abuela.
The real difference was how much he talked, and what he talked about.
He was just, more open.
If Soos cried, he was there. If he wanted to visit Abuela, Mr. Pines went with. If he needed help with homework, Mr. Pines sat with him until they figured it out.
He asked him about his videogames and anime and manga and anything else Soos was interested in. He offered to show him how to work on his car.
He didn’t really talk about himself much, but now, there were small scraps and interjections about things that Soos had never heard him mention. Observations about the desert, names of people he picked up Spanish from, boxing tips, how he read body language or tone for making a sale. Things that made him seem less like Mr. Mystery and more like Mr. Pines.
It felt like Soos was peaking behind a curtain.
Mr. Pines seemed to have dialed himself back, maybe. Soos wasn’t sure what to call it.
Even when he was fixing things up around the Shack for him there was less gruffness in his requests.
Soos loved it and felt an immense guilt about it.
He knew Mr. Pines was just being kind and that Soos was almost an adult and wouldn’t need this level of kindness since he’d be expected to.
Well.
Actually, he wasn’t sure what would be expected of him when he turned 18.
So one night at dinner, he asked Mr. Pines what would happen when he turned 18.
“You wanna go to college?”
“Not exactly but-“
“You want to keep working here?”
“Well yes but Mr. Pines I meant-“
“Soos, you’re welcome here for as long as you’d like to stay. This is my home and it’s yours as much as you’d like.”
“As much as I’d like?”
Mr. Pines shifted awkwardly in his chair and nodded.
“I didn’t want to assume anything but, the paperwork makes me your legal guardian. I’m responsible for you now, kid. So yeah, my home is yours. I don’t want you to feel like I’m keeping you from your family or anything but, even if I’m only fostering you, you’re part of mine.”
“You want me to be part of your family? For real?”
“Well yeah kid, I didn’t sign all those forms because you’re my employee. I mean you are kinda but like- Soos. Did you think I was only doing this because I wanted you to keep working at the Shack?”
Soos felt his face heat up and started to deny it but Mr. Pines cut him off pretty quick.
“Shit kid, okay look. I was trying not to presume how you feel about any of this. I didn’t want to put words in your mouth or um. Well, look. I was only married in Vegas briefly and I don’t really have my sights on going the whole conventional route of getting married and then, that’s to say, shit. Soos, I’ve always sort of thought of you as my son.”
Soos’s eyes were so wide. Mr. Pines’s face also seemed to heat up a bit and he tried shrugging, as though this wasn’t a big deal. As though it wasn’t something incredibly important to Soos.
“I wasn’t gonna say anything, because I’m not really a great father figure and all, but look. When your Abuela was still around I could kid myself that it wasn’t something I wanted, being a parent and all. But now you’re living with me and I can’t help it. You’re a good kid, Soos. I’m not trying to replace anyone but, I guess, I want you to know that this is permanent. If you want it to be.”
Soos felt his eyes well up and Mr. Pines was on his feet, turning their chairs together so he could wrap an arm around him.
“I care about you, kid. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but it felt like something I should let you decide.”
Soos cried a little and laughed when Mr. Pines ruffled his hair before moving far enough apart to go back to eating, but not all the way across the table from him.
“So, if I wanted to stay here and keep working for you?”
“That’s more than enough for me, kid. I’d love for you to stay, if you want to.”
“And when I’m an adult, does that mean the foster thing-“
“I don’t really know what happens with that exactly. I mean, the social worker told me that I mean, if I wanted to and you agreed, I could file adoption paperwork since your um, well since your Father terminated his parental rights but uh, I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to bring that up.”
Soos felt his eyes tear up again and Mr. Pines gently cuffed him on the back of the head.
“Oh hush kid, c’mon no more tears. I swear no one else in our family is this weepy. It’ll ruin my reputation.”
“Our family?”
“Well yeah. Crap. I’ve uh, well I’ve got an older brother who’s got kids I should probably introduce you too. Surprise, you’ve got cousins!”
Soos laughed tearily and chanced another hug, which he definitely got.
And of course it hurt, his Abuela was gone and he missed her everyday. But it was nice not being alone.
Google translate spanish below the cut:
Hola señora, ¿cómo está Soos? No lo he visto y sé que es su primer día de regreso a la escuela. Le dije que no había trabajo la primera semana, pero por lo general viene para al menos contarme cómo le fue y solo quería asegurarme de que estaba bien.
Hello ma'am, how is Soos? I haven't seen him and I know it's his first day back in school. I told him there's no working the first week back but he usually stops by to at least tell me how it went and I just wanted to make sure he's okay.
#gravity falls#stanley pines#soos ramirez#soos#grunkle stan#i hate dialogue tags so much#and i’m sorry abuela#didn’t actually mean to write all of this#but i kinda love the idea of stan adopting soos#also - would this mean soos stumbles across the portal or learns of ford? or helps stan try and bring him back?
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Right After All: Part Seven
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~3.1k
Warnings: minor angst
Summary: You've studied so hard to be a nurse but you're finding yourself wanting to go on more hunts with Sam and Dean. After you've convinced them to let you go on a vampire hunt, you don't realize how exhilirating it is.
Right After All Masterlist
Square Filled: gas station for @spnclassicbingo (deleted bingo)
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
You and Clarissa haven’t talked since Disneyland, and you’ve been avoiding her. You told her that you love her boyfriend. What sister would be okay with that? Clarissa is a very emotional person and you hate doing anything to upset her. You never wanted to come between them. Still, you have to face her eventually so you go to the Bunker knowing she’s been staying here since you got back from Disneyland.
You knock on the door and wait for someone to answer it, and you’re kind of disappointed when Sam does.
“Hey, come in.”
“Thanks. Is Clarissa here?” He doesn’t have to answer because you see her in the war room about to head up the metal stairs. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling and texting you. We should talk.”
“I gotta run but I’ll see you at home.” Your heart drops knowing she is avoiding you but she pulls you in for a hug. “It’s going to be a girls weekend, okay? I’m taking you out.”
“Okay.”
She pulls away from you and leaves the Bunker with a smile on her face. She doesn’t seem all that upset. Then again, she’s a good actress. Once she pretended to be nice to you for a family gathering but then when you were alone, she gave you the meanest cold shoulder. You forget why you two were fighting.
“What was she doing here?” you ask Sam.
“I don’t know. She’s been in Dean’s room the whole time.”
Speaking of, Dean walks into the war room and tenses when he sees you. Oh no. What the hell did Clarissa tell him? Shit. Of course, she’d tell him that you’re in love with him. God, you shouldn’t have said anything.
“If you’re looking for Clarissa, you just missed her.”
“I know. I saw her.”
You and Dean try to avoid each other’s eyes and Sam looks at both of you.
“Okay, I found a case.”
“A hunt?” you ask with interest. “Can I come?”
“You want to go hunting with us?”
“Yeah. The last time was fun. What are you hunting?”
“A nest of vampires.”
“Sounds easy enough,” you shrug.
“Easy? Have you ever used a machete before?” Dean asks.
“Yes, have you?” you tease.
Dean finally cracks a smile and shakes his head without answering your question.
“What about your job?”
“Look, I love being a nurse and helping people but after Disneyland, I realize the best way to help people is to hunt. Isn’t that what it’s all about? To help as many people as I can? I can still be a nurse but it won’t be in a hospital.”
“What about the internship? You worked so hard for it,” Sam says.
“Yeah, I did, but that was before. All I know is how I feel now, and I want to learn how to be a hunter. Who better to help me than the best.” You smirk. “Unless you’d like me to go to someone else, you know, who isn’t the best.”
“I know what you’re doing,” Dean playfully glares at you.
“Does that mean I can come?”
“Fine.”
“The more the merrier,” Sam chuckles.
“Yay!”
You don’t have a lot to pack so it doesn’t take you long to pack the car up with what you need. Sam and Dean take longer than you so you’re inside the car with your feet on the dash, talking to Clarissa on the phone.
“Looks like I’m going hunting with them. A nest of vampires, according to Sam. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in time for our weekend.”
“Good. You really like doing this kind of work, don’t you?”
“I do,” you smile. “Listen, are we okay? You know, after Dis--”
“We’ll talk when you get back, okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper.
You don’t feel any better about the situation. Sam and Dean join you in the car and put the bags into the trunk.
“Feet off the dash,” Dean says and slides behind the wheel.
“Yes, sir,” you say sarcastically, but you don’t miss the way his jaw ticks and how he shifts on the seat.
For the first few hours, you listen to your own music and play games on your phones, but by hour five, Dean turns down the music and glances over at you.
“So, tell me how you think you kill a vampire.”
“Okay.” You put away your phone and shift so you’re facing him. Sam is sitting sideways with his legs stretched across the back seat. Even in that position, he has to bend his legs since they can’t fit all the way.
“Stake through the heart? Put it in sunlight?” You think that’s funny but Dean doesn’t laugh. Sam chuckles but he coughs to cover it up when he sees his brother’s look. “I’m guessing that’s wrong?”
“No. Decapitation is the only way to kill one of them. That’s why we have machetes. Listen, they’re strong but you’re craftier. Whatever you do, don’t let their blood get in you--through eyes, open wounds, or the mouth. You’ll turn into one of them. If you do happen to get turned, don’t drink human blood. There’s a cure for vampirism but it won’t work once you fully transition into one.”
“Got it.”
It’s a lot but you’re not going to let it scare you. You chose this. You have to be okay with everything that comes with hunting. Dean stops for gas and Sam goes inside to get something to eat and to stretch his legs. You stand off to the side with your machete in hand and practice swinging it. You don’t think it will be hard to slice a head off the body but it can’t be easy. You three are the only ones at the gas station so you’re not worried about scaring someone with your machete.
Dean puts the gas nozzle back into the hook and looks at you. He chuckles to himself when he sees you swinging the machete around. He looks at Sam to see him still browsing the food so he walks over to you carefully.
“Careful there, slugger. You might take an eye out,” he jokes.
“Sorry. I’m just practicing.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“Am I doing it wrong?”
“Your stance is off. If you stand like this,” he spreads his legs slightly and turns his body slightly toward you, “then you’ll swing more smoothly.” You try to copy his stance but you look as stiff as a board. “Here, let me show you.”
Dean presses his body to your back and you immediately freeze. He grabs your hips and turns you while keeping your legs where they are. He kicks your right foot lightly and you move it further by a couple of inches. His fingers trace up your body and to your arms. Goosebumps follow his fingers as they make their way down to your hand. He wraps his big hand around yours so you’re both holding the machete. He keeps one hand on your hips and turns you slightly before swinging the machete down. Your heart is racing a million miles a second. This shouldn’t be happening.
“See how much easier that feels?”
“Yeah, it does,” you whisper.
Dean’s hand flexes on your hips as if he’s holding back from exploring your body. You turn in his arms and look into his beautiful green eyes. What you wouldn’t give to kiss him right now. His eyes dip to your mouth but before anything can happen, Sam calls for you two.
“Hey, you guys good?”
“Are we good?” Dean asks you, his voice low.
“Yeah,” you whisper.
Dean’s the one to break away from you and you feel sad that you can’t feel his body anymore. You only have two more hours to go. Two more hours locked in a car with Dean. The sheriff is waiting for you when you three arrive in town.
“Thanks for agreeing to meet with us,” Sam says and shakes his hand.
“Of course. Thanks for coming. We’re having a bit of a crisis here. Our small town doesn’t do well with back-to-back murders. Well, supposed murders.”
“What do you mean?”
“Not a single body has been found. People go missing and everyone speculates that they’ve been murdered. It’s a small town. No one ever leaves and if they do, we know exactly why--money, new job, marriage--people don’t disappear from here.”
“Do you have any theories?”
“I don’t want to start drama but a new family moved into town on Old Miller Farm. Justin Miller, bless his soul, got sick and sold his farm to the first person he could get to buy it. They’re weird, won’t talk to anyone, and they only come out at night. They’ve got everyone freaked but they haven’t broken any laws.”
“We’ll take care of it, Sheriff. Thank you for speaking with us.”
Old Miller Farm is the next stop, and there is a small space for the Impala to park where you can see the farmhouse in clear view. If they are vampires, then they won’t show themselves until the sun has gone down, and they do. As soon as the sun disappears beneath the horizon, they file out of the house. Two of them sneak to the back of the property at a place where you can still see from the car. There is a huge woodchipper and tornado shelter doors that lead further underground. The vampires outside talk to each other for what seems like hours before heading back inside.
The two vampires by the woodchipper open the storm doors and head down into the shelter before returning with two bodies slung over their shoulders. Even from where you are, you know they’re dead. One of them starts the machine and the other tosses a body into the shipper. Seconds later, the entire body is shredded only to be fed through the chipper again. Whatever is left over is poured into buckets. You’re not sure where they plan on taking the contents but if they have pigs, no one will ever find their remains.
“God, this is horrible,” you sigh and look away from it.
“They must be doing this to hide the bodies. Feed them to the pigs and everyone is none the wiser,” Sam says.
“So, how are we going to do this?” you ask.
“Well, you’ll stay here and Sam and I will--”
“Excuse me,” you cut him off, “I did not travel a thousand miles with you to stay in the car. I’m here. I want to help. Look, I might not be ready to take a nest on by myself but I can distract. Use me.”
Sam and Dean look at each other in silent conversation.
“Fine,” Sam stutters. “You distract from the front and we’ll sneak in the back.”
“Alright, if you’re going to go in there, you need to know a few things,” Dean says. All three of you get out of the car and Dean opens the trunk where the weapons are. He takes out two syringes from the bag. “This is Dead Man’s Blood. It won’t kill them but it’s like poison. It’ll take it down to where you can kill it, okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod and take the syringes.
You wait for the vampires to be done crushing the bodies before you three head to the house. You break off from the brothers and walk to the front door. Sweat forms on your hairline but you try to keep calm. Vampires have super hearing. They’ll hear your racing heart and smell your fear. They’ll know something is up before you can distract them. You take two deep breaths before knocking on the door. A woman answers it and she looks dirty like someone just picked her off the street.
“Can I help you?” she asks.
“Yeah, my car broke down and I was wondering if I could use your phone?” You point to the Impala which can be seen from the house. “I promise I’ll be quick.”
“Are you alone out there?”
“Yeah, can I use your phone? My cell died.”
“Sure. Come in.”
She opens the door wide enough to squeeze you in, and you have to stop the gag when you smell how bad she is. There are half a dozen people inside, all of whom are staring at you like you’re a piece of meat. You keep your eyes cast downward and follow the woman into the kitchen where the wall phone is. There is another woman inside eating something red. You don’t want to know what it is.
“Thank you.” You pick up the phone and dial your sister’s number. Don’t pick up. Don’t pick up. Please don’t pick up. She doesn’t and you chuckle nervously at the two women who are staring at you. “Damn, she’s not answering. Let me call someone else.” You dial Dean’s number knowing his phone is on silent. He doesn't answer it so you hang up with a slight blush on your cheeks. “Sorry to waste your time. It looks like no one is answering.”
“Do you need shelter for the night? There’s an extra bed here,” the woman offers.
“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you any longer. It’s okay. I’ll charge my phone in the car and call a tow truck.”
You turn to leave but she blocks your path.
“Why didn’t you do that in the first place?” You open your mouth to answer but you hear a loud thump coming down the stairs. She hears her friends shout in anger and she turns to you with deadly eyes. “Hunters.”
She bares her fangs and lunges at you, pinning you to the wall. You grab one of the syringes and stab her in the neck, emptying it into her system. She cries out and stumbles back but you’re not free yet. The other woman runs at you and slams her body into yours. She knocks you over the kitchen table and onto the floor. You reach into your jacket pocket and unsheath your machete but the female vampire is too quick for you. She kicks the machete out of your grip and steps on your hand. You scream out in pain just as she leans down to attack, and the kitchen door slams open. Dean rushes in and slices his machete through the air and right through her neck.
“Are you okay?” he asks and helps you up with your good hand.
“Yeah, just a bit bruised. I don’t think it’s broken.”
The vampire you injected with Dead Man’s Blood writhes on the ground, moaning in pain, and Dean yanks her up by her hair.
“Wanna kill your first vampire?” he asks.
You flex your injured hand, deciding that it’s okay enough to grip the machete. You pick up your machete from the ground and twirl it in your hand.
“Yes.”
You do what Dean taught you to do and bring the machete down on her neck. Her head falls to the ground and rolls to the side, and you gasp at the shock of it.
“Look at that. You’re a natural,” Dean smiles.
The kitchen door slams open and you and Dean look at Sam.
“We gotta go. The cops were tipped off.”
Party’s over. You don’t bother cleaning up your mess knowing the police will either cover it up or make some excuse as to why the new family in town is no longer living there. You’re back home earlier than you thought you’d be, but you stay home to unwind from the case before hanging out with Clarissa. She made a spa appointment for you two on Friday, which is a good thing since your body aches from being thrown over a kitchen table.
“I saw them, Claire. They shoved those bodies into the woodchipper, but I killed my very first vampire. It was exciting. It was awesome. Dean was awesome. You should have been there.”
“Nah, that’s your thing. Spas are kind of my thing,” she chuckles.
You lean back on your chair and sigh happily.
“This is nice, too.”
You and Clarissa are alone in the room to unwind before they call you back and give you a massage, and Clarissa looks at you with a sigh.
“I gotta tell you something. We should talk about Disneyland.”
Yep, there is it. Hunting took your mind off this conversation but now you’re forced to confront your feelings.
“I know. Look, it wasn’t fair for me to--”
“No, let me talk first.”
“Okay.”
You sit up and remove the face mask off your face so you can see her better. She does the same and tosses the mask into the trashcan.
“When you saw me in the Bunker earlier this week, I was there to break up with Dean. We’re not dating anymore.”
Wow. You were not expecting her to say this. You blink rapidly as you try to think of a response.
“Oh, wow, I don’t really know what to say to that.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said at Disneyland and it’s true. I don’t love Dean. I’m ashamed to say I only kept him around for selfish reasons. Don’t get me wrong, I really did like him in the beginning but he’s not the man for me. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He loves you.”
Okay, now you don’t know what to say to that, so you don’t say anything.
“Are you okay?” you ask once you find your voice.
“Oh, I’m fine. I’ve been talking to this guy for a while. Dean knows about him. I’m not a cheater so I ended things with Dean so I can be with this guy. His name is Asher. He’s rich and loves spending his money, especially on me.”
You can’t help but laugh at that. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a man who has a lot of money. It doesn’t make Clarissa shallow. That’s just what she’s into.
“Well, I’m happy for you. I can’t wait to meet him.”
“Yeah, but I think you should be with Dean. You two are clearly meant for each other, and I didn’t want to hold you back from who makes you really happy. What kind of sister would I be if I kept him from you?”
“Thank you, Clarissa,” you smile with tears in your eyes.
“Don’t mention it. Oh, and I know you switched the presents on our birthday. I know he got me that gun.”
“Yeah,” you chuckle, at a loss for words.
Dean was single for the entire hunt. He was single when he held you in his arms. He was single when he held your hips. He’s yours for the taking. How the hell are you going to bring this up to him?
x
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#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester angst#dean winchester fiction#dean winchester fan fiction#dean winchester fan fic#supernatural#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#spn
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Связи (n.) connections - three
disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest
pairings: mob!bucky x reader
Summary: “Did you think you could hide from us? That’s adorable, little one. There’s no where on this planet where you could hide from the Shostakov Bratva and even if you did manage to evade us, the Barnes Bratva would find you. Your связи, your connections, will always come back to haunt you, Y/N.”
Warnings: cursing, I know I know it’s pretty mild but it’s getting there
Word count: 2.6k
part two | series masterlist
taglist: @scott-loki-barnes @unaxv @identity2212
A/n: I already know this weekend is going to crazy for me and many others so I’m posting part three early as an early Christmas present. Enjoy!!
I don’t know who I should shoot first; Bucky or Carol?
Both are looking like good options at the moment.
“So let me get this straight, the FBI needed help getting shit on my family and the Barnes Bratva just decided out of the kindness of their heart to help? Oh and somewhere there needed to be a marriage between the Barnes and Shostakov families?”
Carol is quick to correct me, “wait no. We found a way around the marriage so that won’t be necessary anymore.”
Sam makes a surprised noise and Bucky shoots him a death glare. This interaction doesn’t go unnoticed by Carol and she questions them.
“There was a change of plans,” is all Bucky offers.
“What the fuck could’ve changed that much?” Carol sneers as she steps in front of where I’m sitting at her kitchen table. Bucky rolls his eyes at the display of dominance and possessiveness over me.
“Alexei was the one who suggested a marriage and he was adamant that it was the only way to solidify the merge. With Nat gone and Antonia lurking around, he wasn’t going to let it go so I decided to not fight him on it.”
“That’s not what we agreed to.”
“We agreed that I get you whatever information you ask for by whatever means I see fit and you don’t get to ask questions about it. You wanted an insider and that’s what I gave you,” he says in a low voice that’s edged with brewing anger.
“That didn’t mean marrying my girlfriend.”
Bucky looks at me from over Carol’s shoulder and holds my eye contact as he says, “she’s my wife and Sovietnik now so whatever protection our agreement offered is extended to her too.”
Carol scoffs, “she was always going to be safe. You had no right to do…”
“Your word means nothing, Danvers. You have no way of protecting her and you know it. Like I said, she’s my Sovietnik now. No one can touch her even if her father tries to pull her down with him.”
My eyes widen at his words and I’m quick to avert my gaze when Carol turns to me. We both know that he’s right, she wouldn’t have been able to do anything if Alexei implicated me when he’s arrested. I would’ve been as good as dead but now that I’m (maybe?) married to Bucky and apparently his newly appointed Sovietnik, I’m untouchable.
Sam clears his throat, “Welcome to the family, Y/N. Looks like we’ll be working closely.”
I smile at Sam, “I’m assuming you’re his bookie then?”
“Obshchak, I’m his Obshchak,” Sam says in an annoyed tone.
Carol is still fighting with Bucky but she stops to start arguing with me.
“No you will not be working with him. You’re not going anywhere.”
Bucky stays quiet and waits for me to say something. His sharp eyes cut into me and make my body stand on high alert as he stares expectantly at me.
“Carol, honey, I don’t think I have a choice,” I begin as my gaze darts between her and him. “Alexei will get suspicious if I’m not with Bucky and if you expect me to be able to get anything useful out of him, then I have to play his game. This is the way it has to be.”
The hurt is clear in her eyes and it pains me to have caused it but I’m backed into a corner. There’s more going on, more at stake than I originally thought and I’m starting to realize that if I want to make it out alive, I have to keep my head down.
“It won’t be forever. After Alexei is behind bars, I’ll get a divorce and we can wash our hands of this entire mess. It’s not like we have to break up.”
“No, you have to,” Bucky breaks our bubble of honest devotion and we both snap our eyes to him. “If anyone were to see you together, the entire operation would be blown. Even getting a divorce is out of the question for the time being.”
“And why is that?” Carol snaps at him as her hand finds mine and takes it into a crushing hold.
I whimper at the pain she’s causing me and Bucky tenses before nodding to Sam. He steps towards us and Carol’s grip intensifies. Standing, I try to hold it together and gently ask her to let go but she doesn’t hear me.
“Carol let go please. You’re hurting me,” I try a little louder and only when I say it again while pulling away does it register with her. She looks at me confused as I step away and rub the hand she’d been holding. Sam gingerly pulls me into him and leads me to Bucky’s side.
“From this moment onwards, you will treat Y/N like she’s my wife. You will not touch her, speak to her, or even fucking think about her. Any communication will come from Wanda and go directly to me as it should anyways. Until this operation is over, you will forget who she is to you and pretend that she doesn’t fucking exist. Do you understand me?”
Carol opens her mouth and I step forward to interject as well but Sam holds me back with a shake of his head.
“Nat’s blood is on your hands and I will not let you spill Y/N’s too.”
I freeze.
What did he just say?
“She left our custody. What happened afterwards is not our fault.”
“You both have 4 seconds to tell me if either of you had something to do with Nat’s death,” I mutter, completely still in Sam’s light hold.
Carol has the audacity to look upset and Bucky keeps his usual cool.
“The Feds had her in their custody after the first threat was made. They were supposed to keep her off grid until either Antonia or Alexei were arrested or one of them was killed. Carol was the one assigned to her when she went missing and later turned up dead,” Bucky tells me and my mouth falls open in shock.
“How long?” I ask Carol.
“I…”
“How long have you been lying to me?”
“Babe…”
“She’s known the entire time,” Bucky answers when Carol drowns in her own lies and deceit. “I’m guessing it’s the reason why…”
“No,” she interrupts him and looks at me. “Babe, I promise everything about us is real. None of it was a lie or a trick.”
Her bullshit isn’t worth listening to. Even if she had truly liked me and asked me out because that’s what she wanted, it all started as a plot to get closer to Alexei. I started as a plot to get to Alexei. To make matters worse, she was the one responsible for my sister’s death and forced me to take Nat’s place.
Sam leads me out of the apartment and back to the car as Bucky and Carol no doubt continue to argue. Once in the car, I finally find my words but they feel useless in my mouth. I want to know why I was brought here. What was the point of bringing me here only to lay out betrayal after betrayal? What was the purpose of telling me any of this if I’m expected to keep up appearances and play my part?
The only word that does come out is why and Sam almost breaks his neck to look at me, apparently shookes that I’ve spoken.
“He wants you to know the truth.”
“The truth? All he’s done is break any trust I’ve built with anyone and made it so I don’t know what truth even looks like anymore.”
Sam sighs, “but at least you’ll know that he will always be honest with you. Even if you don’t trust him or me, you’ll know that we’ll tell you the truth.”
“How did she die?”
He takes in a sharp breath and hesitates. I know he doesn’t want to tell me but he did just vow to always be honest with me.
“Gunshot wound. She would’ve died instantly.”
“She felt nothing,” we both whisper to ourselves.
Bucky climbs into the passenger seat and briefly glances at me in the back before giving Sam the go ahead. He doesn’t say anything to me but reaches his hand back and gently clasps my leg. It’s something he used to do to Nat when she was nervous. She would always bounce her leg when she was nervous and he was always right there to ground her. The action hurt because I knew it was subconscious. He didn’t do it because it was me, he was doing it because he was thinking of Nat.
They’d been dating when I was kidnapped but our lives didn’t leave room for romance or love. I can only imagine that it was a matter of time before the demand of their families became too much, forcing them apart. I stare at the hand clasped around my calf and I want to ask about her but I can’t do it. I can’t think about her or how I’m now married to the man that was definitely the love of her life. I can’t think about how he is definitely thinking about her as he tries to comfort me. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s better that I let him love a ghost and I pretend to not notice it. Or maybe it’s not. I don’t know what to think anymore.
Instead I look out the window and watch the city pass by as I think back to when we first met. I think I was maybe 9 when we met and I was scared to death to meet the famed Barnes family. My own family was infamous, sure but there was a dark air to the Barnes boys. Bucky and his older brother, Joseph, were always moving in the shadows of rooms and slipping in and out without notice. Yelena and Natasha told me enough stories about them that I was convinced they were the bougie man’s henchmen.
Joseph scared me the most. He was taller and leaner than Bucky but a thick beard covered his jaw and it hid any emotion or expression on his face. Bucky was no more than 19 and he had been the one to approach me first. He made a joke at Nat’s expense and earned himself a playful shove but that small introduction told me enough that I knew I could trust him. If he could make Nat smile and make her trust him, I could do the same. Joseph rarely came around after that, too busy being groomed to be the next Barnes Pakhan so that left Bucky to entertain us girls.
Nat and him grew the closest being that they were only a few years apart but I always had a crush on him. I never did anything about it because well he’s ten years older than me. I made a promise to myself that when I got older, I would tell him but that never happened. I disappeared from their lives and besides, he loved Nat and I wouldn’t want to or be able to compete with her. Though, now it seems that fate wants to be cruel and gave me what I wanted but took something of equal value in return. I could have Bucky but my sister would be payment.
The thought is too sobering and I subtly move my leg out of his grip. He gives it a squeeze before retracting his hand.
—-------
“Sam?”
He hums in response as he sits next to me scrolling his phone. Bucky had left us in the waiting room of what I imagine is his attorney’s office and ordered that we stay put.
“Why did you kidnap me?”
He blinks up at me and gives me a deadpan look, “maybe not say that in a law office.”
“Maybe don’t do it then. Oh wait you already did and I want to know why.”
“You’ll have to ask Buck,” he says as he returns to scrolling tiktok aimlessly.
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
“Why?”
“Are you six or something? Enough with the why bullshit.”
I smirk, “why?”
He lets out a dramatic sigh as he digs into his pocket and pulls out his airpods. He makes a point to make as much movement as he can so that I see him put both in.
Standing up, I walk over to his couch and plop myself down next to him. He looks at me from the corner of his eye and turns away from me. I scoot closer until our thighs are touching and he takes out one airpod as he stares at me.
“What?”
“Why?”
“Oh my fucking god.”
Just then Bucky walks out and gives us a confused look before saying goodbye to his attorney, Mr. Murdock. The man is wearing sunglasses and it takes me a second to realize that he’s blind and not a douchebag.
“Everything okay?” Bucky asks Sam who is acting like an annoyed older brother.
“She’s about to get punched.”
“Are you threatening to punch my wife, Wilson?”
Both of our eyes widen and Bucky makes it worse when he starts laughing. He shakes his head as he starts to walk away and gestures for us to follow behind. Sam whispers to me that he is not afraid of Bucky and he will fight me if I keep being annoying. I giggle which causes Bucky to glance back over his shoulder at us and we straighten up.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” I whisper to Sam and he rolls his eyes at me.
“What did you ask?” Bucky pipes up from in font of us. Before Sam can warn me to keep my mouth shut, I blurt out the very same question that started out bickering.
“Why did you kidnap me?”
“I’ll make you a deal. For every question you ask me, I get to ask one of my own.”
I weigh my options carefully. At this point there can’t be any secrets between us and if there were, I’m sure he would find them out in seconds. If he’s anything like my father, he would have ways of knowing them before I even did and the shit he pulled at Carol’s is evidence that he doesn’t give a single fuck about exposing them.
“Okay, you have a deal. Now tell me why you, Sam, and Joseph tried to kidnap us that night.”
Bucky’s jaw feathers at the mention of his brother and Sam tenses ever so slightly as well.
“She didn’t trust your father to be able to protect you after Dreykov so she found a way to do it herself.”
I stay quiet, waiting for him to finish but he doesn’t.
“You better not be done talking,” I say and he just looks at me through the rear view mirror.
I curse under my breath and cross my arms as I slouch against the seat. Of course he was vague. Why wouldn’t he be? It’s not like I specified that his answers had to be full and clear.
Sam seems to sense my frustration and lets more spill before Bucky stops him with a glare, “she set it all up; the fake kidnapping, the trust, living with Eve. She had it all figured out so that all three of you could disappear together.”
“What changed?”
“No,” Bucky mumbles. “One question at a time.”
I roll my eyes, “fine. Ask yours.”
“In due time.”
Sam snickers to himself and I sigh dramatically.
I’ve made my decision. Carol is getting blocked and I’m definitely shooting Bucky and Sam the next chance I get.
#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fic#marvel imagine#bucky barnes fanfic#mob au#mob!bucky barnes imagine#Связи (n.) connections#Связи (n.) connections bucky x reader#bucky barnes reader insert#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes and reader#marvel#mob bucky barnes#mob bucky x reader
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i need Vale‘s pov of picking up Marc from Pesaro, because Marc wasn’t the only one worried, vale definitely was down bad just as much. The man of his dreams, who he almost lost before, is coming over to visit him. To meet him the first time as the person he really is. What if he only liked Vale for his money? Or if it just was some kind of hero worship? Valentino may have parked horribly, but that man was nervous, give him a break
Thank you for waiting so patiently, anon.
Here's another Vale's POV interlude, this time of Vale being Down Bad at the train station.
You should come.
To Tavullia. Come ride with me.
When Vale invited Marc to Tavullia to come ride with him, he hadn’t really been thinking. He knew he wanted to see Marc, so he invited him without thought of the consequences or how he would explain things to his family, friends, and staff. He’s too excited to take back the invitation, though, so as soon as Marc agrees Vale throws himself into planning.
He carves out a long weekend that he’s sure he can block off, and he starts firing off messages to all the normal visitors to the ranch and his home that he will be busy those days. Uccio is noticeably suspicious, so Valentino gives up and explains that Marc is visiting.
Uccio isn’t pleased, but they’ve known each other long enough at this point that Uccio knows when he’s lost a battle and he doesn’t push back too much. Vale makes him promise not to show up, and threatens that the other man may see something he doesn’t want to if he shows up. Even with the threat Vale isn’t convinced Uccio won’t try something, but he’s at least confident that if he does turn up it won’t be a huge argument. Vale can survive a little awkwardness if it means having Marc by his side, finally.
They negotiate travel plans and Vale pays for everything. He was tempted to completely throw out Marc’s itinerary and send a private jet for him, but he forces himself to play it cool at least a little bit. There’s still part of him, lurking in the back of his mind, that thinks Marc could be using him. He hopes that when he meets Marc in person the fear and anxiety will dissipate.
Allowing Marc to fly commercial doesn’t stop Vale from obsessively checking the timing of Marc’s flight, though. He stays attached to his phone throughout Marc’s travel day, ears open and listening for the notification that Marc has landed.
As soon as Marc lands, Valentino is in his car and off to the train station. He knows he’ll have to wait, and that he’s going to arrive far too early, but he can’t help it. He’s far too restless and excited to continue sitting around.
He’s in the car when the message pops up that Marc is on the train, and he forces himself to slow down. Driving faster won’t make Marc’s train move faster.
It is late enough at night that Vale has no qualms about parking right up front. He pulls haphazardly into an empty taxi space, and tries not to count the minutes until Marc’s train will pull into the station. He tries to talk himself down from being nervous, but now that he’s seated in his car with only music for company, a thousand thoughts run through his brain. This may be the moment that he finds out that Marc really does only want him for his money. Where will he be then? He knows Uccio won’t say “I told you so,” because he won’t have to. Vale will hate himself if things go wrong with Marc.
He desperately wants the younger man to be genuine. He wants his feelings for Marc to be reciprocated and warranted. He wants the chemistry that they have online to be true in real life.
He also can’t wait to touch Marc. A bitter part of him whispers that if Marc is using him for his money, at least he’ll get to have the weekend with him.
The minutes tick down as Vale nervously spirals, turning his music up to try and drown out the thoughts of insecurity.
When Marc walks out the station doors, Vale can’t help but climb out of the car to greet him. He’s not exactly keeping it cool, but Marc is simply too beautiful. Vale is drawn to him like a moth to flame and he wraps Marc in his arms.
Marc is small. He’s tiny in Vale’s arms, but Vale can feel the solid muscle beneath the warm hoodie he traveled in. His mouth waters as he pictures the hard muscle and tanned skin he knows is underneath the sweatshirt.
He forces himself to let go of Marc, who is positively beaming at him. It’s overwhelming, seeing that enthusiasm and joy in person. It’s even more overwhelming to know it’s directed at him. All at once Vale’s thoughts that Marc might be using him disappear. There’s no way the joy in his smile could be hiding an ulterior motive. There's no way any person, no matter how talented at acting, could fake such genuine happiness. It nearly brings Vale to his knees.
When they climb in the car, Marc asks him why he wasn’t afraid of people photographing them. Vale, after all, had stood publicly in front of a train station and held Marc in his arms.
Vale is stunned into silence for a second. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he should probably try and keep some semblance of privacy when picking Marc up. He tries to shrug and play it cool.
“It’s late at night. People will leave us alone.”
He hopes that is true and he hopes Marc buys his explanation.
The tension in the air is thick, and Vale considers pulling off the road to drag Marc into his lap and ravish him. Every time he glances at Marc, beautiful, joyful Marc, it’s all he can think about. By the time he pulls the car through the gate and up toward the house nearly half an hour later, he thanks every god in existence that he managed to get them home without crashing.
Vale promises Marc a tour and some riding in the morning, before carrying Marc’s bag into the house.
They barely make it inside the house before they’re on each other. Vale drops Marc’s things unceremoniously somewhere near the door, and then his arms are full of the small Spanish man. Marc is positively sinful, moaning into Vale’s mouth as he slides his hands underneath Marc’s shirt.
Marc is so satisfying to hold, and Vale promises himself he’ll take the entire weekend to fully map Marc’s body. He has a sickening moment of hoping Marc will let him have this forever; that Marc won’t want to leave him once he is bored of having sex with his hero.
Vale guides an enthusiastic Marc toward his bedroom, and his heart nearly stops when Marc freezes in the doorway. For a moment, Vale thinks Marc has gotten cold feet and is going to turn around and insist he be driven back to the train station.
“You really do have a bike in here,” Marc says, awed. “You won a championship on this.”
The wide-eyed look on Marc’s face goes straight to Vale’s cock.
“Sit on it,” he says, hungry at the thought of seeing the younger man on his bike. He has fantasized about this hundreds of times, and as Marc settles onto the seat Vale thinks he might burst into flames at the sight.
They’re both hard, and Marc climbs back off the bike as Vale grabs the smaller man and manhandles him onto the bed.
He’s wanted this for so long, and as he strips both of them of their clothes and gets his hands and mouth on Marc, he knows without a doubt that he’ll do whatever he needs to do to keep this forever.
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Kate, honey, winning a match doesn't mean you can't be sad and insecure. You can. And you can talk about this with Anthony. He is there for you, ready to support you, no judgement. And wouldn't you do the same for him? You absolutely would. So do yourself a favour and talk to him. Let him take care of you. 🙏🏽
They are both so used to dealing with everything on their own (despite the fact that they do feel the support of their respective families) that they keep harbouring their true feelings. It is so easy for them to show love and trust and support towards other people. But it's like they don't believe they are worthy of being on the receiving end of such affections.
I think this is the nicest thing about where their relationship grows to. The fact that Kate can be in another country to Anthony and she has a day where she feels overwhelmed, or insecure, or stressed and the first person she calls is Anthony.
Some days she’s already got him on the phone when she leaves practice.
“Hey what’s up, Babe?”
Hearing his voice makes her want to cry sometimes. “I just um… sorry, you’re probably busy.”
“I’m not busy.” Anthony said firmly, “I’m never busy if you need me.”
Kate let out a shuddering breath, relaxing against the cushions of the sofa in her hotel room. “I just really needed to hear your voice today.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
Anthony was silent for a moment before he clicked his tongue, “Well, do you want to hear about how I’m now friends with the voice that lives in your fridge?”
Kate let out a watery chuckle, swiping at her tears. “I didn’t know my fridge had a voice.”
“It does! I’ve named her Pam. She’s ordered me a steak from M&S for tonight. Very excited about it.”
Kate took another deep breath, “I love you. I miss you. I fucking hate clay courts and my ankle still feels weird and I hate being photographed with Tom because they always try to start shit.”
She could hear Anthony rustling around before he cleared his throat, “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”
“You won’t be here for weeks.” It ached in her chest, the distance after being so used to seeing him every day.
“Well I just booked a train because it’s Friday, and I can come and spend the weekend and then come back here.”
Kate’s breath caught in her throat. “What?”
“Babe, France is… so close you can swim there. You want me there so I’m coming. I’ll just have to get Pam to cancel my steak.”
“I’ll buy you one when you get here.” Kate breathed, “I love you.”
“Love you too.” Anthony hummed, “Oh! We can go to Disneyland and take cute pictures together!”
Kate but back a smile, “Yeah we can. Thank you.”
“Nothing to thank me for. Stay in the phone with me while I pack and we can stay on the phone while we’re on the train. I’ve treated myself to business premiere. Very exciting.”
“Are you sure if it’s alright if I hear the conversation between you and your new girlfriend Pam?”
“Of course just cover your ears.”
#pumped up au#kathony#anthony x kate#kate sharma#kate sheffield#anthony bridgerton#molly’s asks and answers
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