#in this house we hate led headlights

[andromeda3116]

someone got behind me tonight and my rearview mirror dealt me 5d6 radiant damage

[theartisticcrow]

This is a post about light pollution and my absolute hatred of modern architecture and outdoor lighting.

This is not going to be a short post, but I had to get this anger and frustration off of my chest. Writing is the best way I know how to do that.

I have seen a great many stars fall from the sky. Most recently when I was out in the field in front of my house, roughly a month ago, and I was wandering around, listening to Queen on my headphones, and as I looked over towards the road, I saw a star fall from the sky. I stood there for a moment, unmoving, staring up at the part of the sky where I saw that beautiful flash of light as one life ended and it felt as though mine had only recently begun, and I thought to myself how this one was different from others that I had seen. It lasted longer, about two full seconds. I continued walking, a little happy yet also a little sad. How tragic it is, what humans will do to obtain power. They oppress people, they choose the cheapest options to save money that they do not need, and rarely do they seem to think things through. They'll do anything to get the people into their grasp. They will even steal the sky from us.

How fascinated we used to be with the stars, but not anymore, because the night sky looked so much different three hundred, four hundred years ago. People used to be able to look out their windows at night and see the entire galaxy. What do we get? A few specks of light scattered throughout the sky if we're lucky? If it is not a boring, grey abyss? I should not have to drive four days into the middle of the wilderness to see the night sky as it truly is. No one should have to put up with this. I remember, when I was fourteen or thirteen, when they built a big house on the property next to where I lived, with blacked out windows, a basketball court and a swimming pool. The owners were rarely ever there, and when they were, they were terribly obnoxious with their parties and loud music, perhaps not realising how exactly sound manages to travel through that part of the island. And yet, for some reason, they felt the need to install a big floodlight which did not even shine onto their own property, but rather the field in front of my house. It shined directly into my parents window, and so often did I wish I could shoot it with an arrow. Now, my family did not own the property that we lived on. We rented a house there and in the day, the property functioned as a business. I recall the day that they installed a floodlight shining over the small parking lot. I hated it then and I still hate it now. The only reason I did not throw rocks at it until it broke was because I did not want to accidentally set fire to the building, or get evicted. Not to mention, my parents would know that it was I who knocked down the light.

But it was so frustrating, because no one is there at night except for my family and our neighbours (until the landlord kicked them out so that she could use the space as her own personal office), so why should they need a floodlight at all? And why must it stretch so far across the property? I did not live out in the middle of nowhere, as much as it used to feel like it at times. There was plenty forest and farmland surrounding the area, but beyond that was just city and suburbs. It used to feel like the only place where you didn't have to see the ugly architecture of the city, but even it caught up eventually. The house that the obnoxious neighbours built was only one example. In the distant hills, there appeared more lights than there used to be, and when I stood at the top of the hill on the property and looked out over the land, I did not used to be able to see the cranes in the distance constructing five or seven story condos. I used to not have to worry about security cameras watching me. I used to be able to wander around in darkness. I used to be able to see the stars. There were many stars at one point, scattered throughout the night sky. It was not the entire galaxy, but it was still a nice sight. I used to see the stars, and now I get little more than the big dipper constellation. Some nights, I am not sure that I can see anything at all, especially when it is a night where there are more cars passing by than usual, and you cannot even see the road when they pass, because their headlights are so unnecessarily blinding.

The night itself used to have a different colour: orange and yellowish, not horrifically bright, but now it is plagued by sterile white lights. I might like to write a complaint to whichever council, board, or committee is in charge of architecture and construction and suchlike in this city, if only I knew how. But even then, I have little belief that it would make a difference, for I would be only one voice with no one to join me. We are capable of change, I am sure of it, but if only I knew exactly how. If only I knew exactly who were the right people to talk to, how to reach them, and what to say. If only more people knew how, then maybe we could recognise that we are not alone. People don't see the point in trying, for they do not feel like putting in that sort of effort because they do not believe it will make a difference if they as an individual do not participate. But tell me, how many individuals think that? How many of you people believe that your voice does not make a difference? Alone, it might not, but when placed among thousands of others who share that same belief, it makes a huge difference! Imagine what we could achieve if we all stood up together and called for action. Imagine if people realised just how much they are actually capable of, and imagine if they actually took the steps to do that thing.

It is not impossible that I could make a revolutionary change in my country, or my community at least, if I really put my mind to it. If I gathered people together, devised some kind of plan, or used all of my writing capabilities to speak against what I believe the government is doing wrong, it's not unrealistic to say that I could make an impact. Now imagine if an entire city's worth of people did that. Do you know how much is actually possible? Do you know how much could have already happened if we didn't wait until the fate of the world was on the line? If only I knew exactly how. If only I had the resources and information. If only I was more willing to take up more responsibility and actually start trying to do something. Ah, but what might parents say if I told them I needed to be driven to the post office to send a letter addressed to the city council? I'm sure they'd be supportive, but it might be an awkward conversation, especially if they tell me it probably won't do anything. And alas, I am a coward.

Look at this entire post. Look at what I have managed to write on such short notice because I felt like it. Imagine what I could do if I were given the right opportunity. This entire post, and all because I was pissed that I could barely see the northern lights those few months ago when it was the only chance I might ever get, only to be disappointed because of that FUCKING FLOODLIGHT THAT MY BITCH OF A LANDLORD DECIDED TO INSTALL FOR NO FUCKING REASON.

[carrotsworld]

to all the boys i loved before

letters i can’t send

to: lee hyunjae

[8:01 pm] his car isn't yours

you see a pair of headlights pulling up into your driveway before hearing the sound of the doorbell ringing. you absentmindedly checked the time on your phone.

8pm.

you opened the front door, a smile adorned on your face.

“are you ready to go?” he asked gently, holding his hand out.

you nodded, accepting his hand as he lead you to his car and opens the door.

“thank you.”

you paused, seeing a black porsche parked further down the street. and the first thing that came to mind was

him. hyunjae.

you shook your head. shaking away all your thoughts of him before getting into his car. you honestly hated how easy it was for him to mess with your head. how easy it was to lie to your mind that he might come back, to try to win you back again.

"are you alright?" he asked, sensing your uneasiness.

you nodded. "i'm alright."

the drive to the restaurant was quiet, a stark difference of how he used to blast both myour favourite music on the speakers.

the restaurant was decorated lavishly, with a live band playing jazz music, it was nothing short of fancy. the waiter led you both to a table and handed you a menu as soon as you took your seats.

sangyeon's eyes were soft and warm when he spoke, "please feel free to order anything you would like tonight, it's on me." he turned to the waiter, "a bottle of cabernet franc, please."

the waiter nodded before leaving. sangyeon looked back at you, his gaze still soft. "i hope you like red wine." he said, a small smile tugging on his lips.

you smiled and nodded. "i do. thank you."

the candlelight flickered between you both, casting a warm glow on his face that accentuated his strong jawline and sharp features.

"you look lovely tonight." he complimented quietly.

"thank you. you look dashing yourself."

-`♡´-

flashback

“dinner is served!" hyunjae exclaims, coming out of the kitchen wearing a pair of pink mittens and a pink apron, a plate of lasagna in his hands.

he had decorated the dining table with candles and rose petals, what he claims is a 'homemade candlelit dinner'.

you laughed at how funny he looked. "thank you, chef."

he smiled. "my pleasure."

“i know we haven’t been able to spend much time lately, so i took some time off to prepare this.” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“i love it.” you smiled, wanting to pull out your chair but he stopped you, pulling it out for you instead.

“like a gentleman.” you teased, taking a seat.

“always, darling.” hyunjae’s lips curled into a smile, taking the seat across from you. he cut a slice of his homemade lasagna, serving it on your plate.

“how was work today?” he asked, helping himself to a slice.

“it went pretty well. my team finished up the project we were working on. so i’ll have some time to spare.” you replied, taking a bite. your eyes lighted up, “it’s really good, jae! what did you put in this?”

his eyes turned into beautiful crescents as he smiled, proud of his cooking. “my tender loving care.” he joked. “i’ll show it to you when you come over on one of the weekends.”

“promise?” you asked, holding out your pinky finger.

“promise.” he nodded, linking his finger with yours.

“thank you for everything, jae.” you said softly.

“anytime, love.”

-`♡´-

it's 2am.

the dinner went by in a blur. the food was delicious, and you had good company as well.

"is it alright if i come in?" sangyeon asked, as you unlocked your door and headed into your house.

sangyeon drove you back home, making sure you got home safely.

you shook your head. "maybe not. it's late." you answered.

"is it..." he paused. "did i do something wrong?" he asked worriedly.

you shook your head again. "you did nothing wrong." you said, turning to face him and faked a smile.

he wasn't hyunjae.

"we'll meet again?" he asked, hopeful.

you nodded. "we will."

after shutting the door, you slid down against the door, hugging your legs close into your arms. you feel like you should be okay to be with somebody else, so why did you wish it were him standing in front of your house?

you rested your chin between your knees and all you could think about was hyunjae.

how it isn't him anymore in your driveway.

how it isn’t him drivers seat on the highway.

how it isn't him on his way every friday.

and you hate that it hurts, that his car isn’t hyunjae’s.

failed to send.

[tameodesza]

Haunts of Horrors (BretShawn)

AO3 link | masterlist

Summary: Bret takes Shawn to a spooky attraction for spooky season.

a/n: I went through a trail of terror this weekend, and it was quite the experience, lol! Inspired me to write this

Shawn sat in the passenger seat, palms sweating as Bret made a sharp left turn that led them closer to their destination.

The Haunts of Horrors.

For five years in a row, the haunted attraction was deemed one of the scariest haunted trails in all of Calgary. Owen asked Bret to tag along, also convincing him to bring Shawn as a date.

“Martha chickened out, so we have an extra ticket. Maybe you should bring Shawn.”

“You know Shawn hates scary shit.”

“Exactly! He’ll be stuck to you like glue all night. You can thank me later.”

That was all Bret needed to hear before trying to persuade his boyfriend to come.

Lucky for him, Shawn accepted thinking it would be a mild scary house filled with a few boo’s and jump scares. And with Owen’s 8-year-old son, Oje, also attending, it couldn’t be that bad, right?

But Shawn’s indifference soon melted into unease as they neared the attraction, Owen spending most of the car ride telling horror stories to get everyone into the spooky mood.

Oje surely enjoyed them, huddling close to his dad in the backseat as he enthusiastically asked for another story.

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Shawn, the blond looking completely zoned out as he stared out the window.

“Stop it. You’re scaring Shawn,” Bret lightly chuckled to Owen.

“I’m fine, Bret,” Shawn said unconvincingly, not wanting to ruin Oje’s fun.

Bret turned down a dark wooded path, the only light coming from the car’s headlights and a neon sign that flashed: Welcome to the Haunts of Horrors. Enter if You Dare.

“Are you ready,” Bret asked Shawn, his own excitement evident in his voice.

“Uh huh,” Shawn answered in a quiver, his voice failing him as they pulled into the parking area.

After parking the car, Bret said calmingly, “Don’t be scared, babe.”

“I’m not.” He was.

“I promise you it’s going to be a lot of fun.”

“How would you know?”

“Owen and I have been here tons of times. It’s not so bad.”

Shawn probed, “Was it really scary when you went?”

As Bret thought of a proper response, Owen blurted, “Oh, this place is intense! Bret, remember that kid who threw up that one time? And the time some guy passed out? Then there was the time someone had a code brown-”

“Owen,” Bret hissed, but it was too late.

Shawn listened in horror as Owen listed off all of the reasons why he should turn around, the blond whining, “Oh, no. I’m going to die.”

“No, you’re not,” Bret said as he grabbed Shawn’s hand before kissing the back of it. “Especially not with me around. I would never let anything or anyone harm you. You know that, right?”

It’s moments like this one that Shawn wished he wasn’t a sucker to Bret’s loving eyes because he would’ve saved himself of the fright that was coming later that night.

Shawn nodded, cheeks reddening as he remembered they weren’t alone, Owen and Oje watching from the backseat as if they were watching a movie.

-

Bret and Shawn walked hand-in-hand, Shawn’s nerves slightly settling as Owen and Oje led the way to the line.

However, his relief was short-lived as he stood in line overhearing multiple conversations of how scary the trail was. That combined with the screamo rock music blasting in the background only made Shawn more anxious.

His fear worsened after moving to a spot in the line that allowed him to see the end of the trail, his eyes landing on various people as they left looking either terrified, drained, or like they’d worked up a sweat. And he could’ve sworn he’d seen one person crying.

Shawn turned around in Bret’s arms, the older man having been pressed against his back with a hold on his waist in comfort. Shawn looked up at him as he whispered, “Is it too late to go back?”

Bret said gently, “We’ve already paid for the tickets, Shawn.”

“Um, I’ll pay you back?”  

Bret couldn’t help but chuckle at Shawn, reassuring, “You’re going to be fine. Just stay next to me, ok?”

Right as Shawn was in the midst of calming down, an actor, one of many who’d been walking up and down the line, chose that moment to come up behind Shawn and scream loudly near his ear.

The blond jumped in Bret’s arms, shouting, “Ah, shit!”

He turned his head to see an actor dressed in a bloody Michael Myers costume before looking away to bury his face into Bret’s chest, deepening into his burrow after hearing laughter from those nearby.  

Owen said in a wheezy laugh, “You should’ve seen your face, Shawn!”

Bret gave his brother a look to shut him up before asking Shawn, “Are you ok?”

Shawn lifted his head, an embarrassed smile on his lips as he said, “That scared the shit out of me.”

“That’s what they’re supposed to do.”

“Still scary,” Shawn said as Bret helped guide him further up the moving line. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this, Bret.”

Owen said enthusiastically, “Well, you better get ready because it’s going to be way worse on the in-. Never mind,” Owen cowered at the glare Bret was throwing him.

After a few more minutes in the line, their group was led to a wooden hut where a worker went over the rules.

“Thank you for choosing Haunts of Horrors as your scare destination. There’s just a few rules to go over. As you go through the haunt, there’s to be no running, shoving, or pushing. This is to ensure that you do not harm yourselves or others as this haunted attraction is located in the woods.”

“Got that, Oje? No running,” Owen whispered to his son who nodded obediently.

The worker further explained, “Please do not touch the actors. That includes hitting, shoving, or spitting. You will be escorted out if done so. They will not touch you unless you paid for the Extra Horror experience.”

Shawn asked Bret in a hush, “We didn’t pay for that right?”

Bret interlaced they’re fingers as he whispered, “I wouldn’t put you through that.”

The worker ended, “You are to keep moving at all times to avoid holding up the groups behind you. Any questions?”

Oh, Shawn had plenty, but to save himself the embarrassment, he decided not to ask.

-

Shawn soon learned he should have taken heed to Owen’s warnings as nothing could’ve prepared him for the terrifying experience.

The haunt only lasted about fifteen minutes but felt like hours as Bret led their group through multiple scary scenarios – dark rooms, jump scares, flashing neon lights, monsters in scary masks, scary music blasting through the speakers.

Shawn kept a tight hold onto Bret’s arm barely having time to catch his breath as he made his way through the trail, screaming in terror at whatever came his way.

There were many times where Bret had to pull Shawn back to stop him from running, the blond tripping over his feet multiple times that night as they ventured through the dimly lit obstacle.

Although they were promised that the actors wouldn’t touch them, the scary figures got alarmingly close, the horrifying voices of the actors filling Shawn’s ears.

There were also times where Bret had to force Shawn to keep moving, the blond freezing in fear not wanting to move forward.

“Come on, baby. We’ve got to keep going,” Bret coaxed as the blond stooped to the ground screaming with his hands covering his ears after seeing a bloodied man revving a chainsaw.

Shawn allowed Bret to help him stand as he asked breathlessly, “It’s still not over?”

Hearing Shawn’s question, the bloodied man answered instead in a grizzly voice, “Your horrors will never be over!” He cackled before revving the chainsaw again.

Needless to say, that was enough to get the blond moving on his feet.

While Shawn struggled to make it through every room in one piece, Owen, Bret, and Oje were having the time of their lives.

Though they were also spooked, every scream ended with a hearty laugh. They would sometimes even taunt the actors, saying “That’s all you got?” or “That wasn’t even that scary. You gotta try harder than that!”

Shawn thought they were all insane, the blond telling them to stop before they made the monsters angry.

By the time they finished the trail, Shawn was a sweaty mess, breathing heavily, and looking as if he’d aged a few years. He was so grateful that it was over.

“That was awesome, daddy! I wanna go again,” Oje exclaimed. 

“Me, too, bud! Maybe we should-”

 “No!” Shawn gave a horrified shriek at the thought.

Owen went to take his son to the restroom while Bret and Shawn headed back to the car. Bret threw an arm over Shawn as the blond pouted and crossed his arms in defiance.

Upon reaching the vehicle, Bret placed Shawn between the car and himself, kissing the blond’s pout before asking, “Why the long face?”

Shawn moped, “You said it wouldn’t be that bad.”

“It wasn’t.”

“It was! That was the most terrifying experience of my life and I never want to go through it again.”

Shawn meant for it to be lighthearted, but Bret truly worried that he’d ruined the blond’s night.

He asked doubtingly, “Did you at least have fun?”

Seeing Bret’s unsurety, Shawn sighed and smiled softly saying, “Yes, you crazy man.”

Maybe ‘fun’ was a bit of a stretch, but regardless of how scared he was, Shawn enjoyed having Bret by his side. Shawn would’ve understood if the man got frustrated with him at some point with his behavior throughout the night, but Bret remained calm and was so sweet to him.

If anything, the scary experience only made them closer.

“Really,” Bret asked, a slow smile tugging at his lips.

“Mhmm,” Shawn said, unfolding his arms to wrap them around Bret’s neck. “It was scary, but I wouldn’t have wanted to go through it with anyone else. I love you.”

It came unexpectedly, but Bret was quick to respond, whispering back his own ‘I love you’ before pulling the man into a lasting kiss, neither caring who was watching.

The kiss was only broken when the couple heard Owen say as he approached, “Ew, get a room!”

And they did, the couple heading back to Bret’s house to kiss and cuddle all night trying to forget about the Haunts of Horrors.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Wedding Break

Masterlist

I really hope you’re in a modern royalty/runaway bride mood today

Warnings: only language I think

Word count: 2,1k

~~~~~~~~~~

“Which Whitethorn do you think is the hottest?” Aelin said a millisecond before shoving her phone on Aedion’s sight.

Her cousin playfully slapped her hand away. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for your speech?”

“It’s either this or hearing about carbon monoxide one more time for you.”

As beautiful as Queen Maeve’s castle was with its tiny streams and walls of pale stone, Aelin just wanted to fast-forward to when she actually got to do her first official task, or at least forget about it until it was time. For someone who have begged for a more active role in the government for years, she was feeling too much like a deer in the headlights.

Muttering something unintelligible to himself, Aedion zoomed in the picture with everyone from the House of Whitethorn and quickly assessed it.

“Tattooed Whitethorn.”

Aelin looked at the picture and bit her lip. “Agreed. I think his name is Ronan or something.”

“They could’ve picked this one for you to marry.”

Frowning, she asked, “What do you mean?” Aelin knew she’d have to marry someone eventually, but she didn’t even like to think about the nightmare it would be. Being crown princess, every formal step of her love life needed to be approved by her dad and the Royal Council, and she had enough battles of her own with them for now.

Aedion cackled, not sensing her distress or maybe because of it. “Didn’t you open Twitter today? The tabloids are saying you’re engaged with Prince Endymion.”

Gaping at her cousin, she was somewhere between laughing and frowning at this new piece of information. “Isn’t he gay? I know we both dated Dorian.”

“I’m pretty sure he is, too.” A beat. “God, I wonder how they came up with this one.”

They kept scrolling on their respective couches, sometimes chatting about things they saw online, but something about this rumor was bothering her. Aelin blocked her phone and rubbed the back of her neck, brows creased in thought. This wasn’t the first, neither would be the last false rumor about her love life. It was so common she didn’t mind anymore. What was irking Aelin was where their attention was. She was here to bring attention to carbon monoxide. Greenhouse effect. Global warming. Not to have her outfits and love life scrutinized by Doranelle’s tabloids.

Aelin cleared her throat, gathering Aedion’s attention.

“Don’t you think these rumors kinda undermine the real reason I’m here? It makes people forget the purpose of my trip and—“

“You know you’re only here because Rhoe’s boys’ club don’t give a fuck about the environment, right?”

Aelin flinched, hating how sometimes Aedion could see right through her. He straightened his posture and gave a long-suffering sigh.

“I’m sorry, Ace. It’s hard to get over this. You keep running around the castle, waiting for kernels like a damn pet—“

“I’m not a pet!” Aelin shouted, tired of having the same argument with Aedion for the millionth time.

He raised both hands in surrender and left, banging the ancient wooden door.

With a pounding heartbeat, Aelin got up and started pacing around the room. He would never get it. If she couldn’t get her voice heard in the council because of her position as crown princess, Aelin would work until she earned that spot. And it was already happening. Her dad put her in charge of Terrasen’s environmental policies as a 21st birthday gift, and there she was. Months later, only beginning to kick ass with her new task.

Aelin did a quick breathing exercise to calm herself down, too consumed by these thoughts, the gossip, her fight with Aedion and probably every single moment of the past months that led her to this. Aelin couldn’t post online without her PR’s approval, so she decided to ask Nox, the head of the team, to deny the rumors on social media. He saw her text almost immediately and left it on read, but Aelin’s shoulders still dropped in relief by the sight of it. He’d fix it soon.

~~

Doranelle’s weather was so hot Aelin took her first cold bath in months, and it was as refreshing as it could be. Honestly, she felt like a new woman, or at least in a new day. She had a tiny headache and her jaw felt sore, but it was fine. She was fine. If Aelin didn’t think about today’s previous events, she wouldn’t feel any kind of residual anger or bitterness. If she was still mad. Because she obviously wasn’t.

Choosing a pale blue dress for lunch, Aelin was finishing her makeup when her mom barged into the room.

“Why are you dressed up so early? Lunch is in more than an hour.”

Aelin sighed, feeling the weight of her shoulders quickly come back. “I needed the bath.”

Evalin smiled at her. “You look gorgeous, honey.”

Just like that, her mother’s words felt like sunshine making its way through dark clouds. Aelin beamed up at her mom, proud of herself because—

“But what happened to your hair? You can’t have lunch with the Whitethorns looking like this.”

Aelin’s cheeks burned, but she held her chin high to answer her mother. “I saw it on TikTok and decided to try. Everyone’s wearing it, it’s really no big deal.”

She gently caressed her daughter’s hair and held her chin for emphasis. “Not everyone is Terrasen’s heir, dear.” Evalin made a show of analyzing Aelin’s hairstyle before saying, “It looks interesting, just make sure the royal family doesn’t see you in it, okay?”

Nodding, she just let her mother talk her ears off until the endless reminders about that visit ended. When Evalin was about to leave, Aelin reminded of something.

“Mom?”

“Yes, dear?” Evalin asked from the threshold of Aelin’s assigned bedroom.

“Can you ask Nox to deny my engagement rumors? I asked him too long ago and maybe he forgot.” Both of them knew this was a nice way of putting that the PR team was busy, and Aelin’s requests weren’t a priority.

The sight of Evalin taking a deep breath and coming back in, closing the door, was enough to give Aelin heart palpitations. But nothing prepared her to what she’d hear next.

“Fireheart, I’m afraid your engagement rumors are true.”

Just like that, Aelin’s body, mind, her whole world came to a halt.

No, they weren’t. They couldn’t be. Aelin started feeling light-headed and leaned the palm against the wall. Her mom had promised that when the time came, they’d make the decision together. They’d let Aelin choose.

“You’re joking.”

“I know you’re upset now, but you know Terrasen’s going through a crisis, and Queen Maeve was kind enough to—“

“What about you letting me choose?” She shouted.

Evalin took a deep breath and plastered a forced smile on her face. “Like I was saying, we reached another countries too, to give you a choice, but Queen Maeve had a better offer, so—“

“So you sold me to the highest bidder! Is that it?”

Her mother’s silent confirmation made Aelin shut her eyes closed, a poor attempt to keep her tears at bay.

“When are we going back? I need to speak with dad,” Aelin said in a strained tone.

“We’re staying until the wedding, which will be in less than three months. He’ll come to the ceremony, though.” Evalin’s voice sounded more gentle now, but Aelin couldn’t see her expression because of the tears blurring her vision. She just heard her mother’s heeled footsteps and the sound of the door closing.

Aelin’s muscles went limp, so she collapsed on the floor, leaning against the wall, and didn’t bother doing any exercises to control her quick breathing.

It was hard to feel time moving when she was overwhelmed with so many questions running through her head. How could her family do this behind her back? Since when was this going on? Was her first assignment just a ruse to bring her to Doranelle?

With a caved-in chest, Aelin probably looked miserable crumbled on the floor like this. She felt too tired to do anything, but what got her up was the thought of what would her mother say if she saw Aelin’s tear-stained make up. Still, cleaning herself up sent a spark of something through her veins.

Maybe, if she talked to her father, they could figure out another way together. Aelin knew part of being queen was abdicating, but maybe they could meet halfway in this. Finishing her new makeup, Aelin held her chin high as she made her choice.

She was going back to Terrasen to talk with her father.

Leaving her bedroom, it was easy to get lost in this castle’s long halls. She had no idea how one place could be so open and look so much like a labyrinth at the same time. However, Aelin released a small breath in relief by the sight of what looked like a small gate.

The guard curtsied. “Your Highness. Good afternoon.”

And did nothing more.

After a few stretches of silence, she said, “Can you open this for me, please?”

His hand hovered over his earpiece as he asked, “Where to?”

“Out.” Aelin said through gritted teeth.

“I’m afraid you can’t leave this wing of the castle without an escort, ma’am.”

What the fuck? “Are you serious?”

Aelin didn’t bother hearing what he had to say, her ears were ringing as she stomped her way back to her bedroom. This had Evalin written all over it. So typical of her mother to treat Aelin like a ticking bomb whenever she got angry, like her own daughter was a situation that needed to be handled. She was so tired of this bullshit.

Aelin couldn’t cross a gate? Awesome. She’d make her own fucking gate to cross.

After getting back and slamming her bedroom’s door, Aelin quickly noted that her easiest way to the outside was a tree that was too short to jump from her balcony. She looked down, studying the sight. But if Aelin could get to the balcony underneath hers... She’d have perfect leverage to get to the tree.

Not thinking twice, Aelin ripped the mattress from her dull guest bedroom and wrapped it around her balcony’s ornate iron railing. Holding on the handrail for dear life, she crossed to the outer side of the barrier, and managed to find balance with half of her feet touching the rest of the balcony’s floor she had. She could feel the wind hitting her back and hear some hawks screeching far from her, but she couldn’t let fear paralyze her. Aelin took one last deep breath.

And then she jumped.

Aelin felt like her heart was free-falling, or maybe that was because she was free-falling herself. However, the gust of wind felt good for just one second, until her forehead hit the building, making her curse this city one more time. Why was this castle made of stone?

Noticing she was still depending on that short mattress to live, Aelin angled her body and swayed it enough to land inside the downstairs balcony.

Feeling every bone in her body ache from that crash, she only gave herself a few seconds to rest while analyzing that tree. She just needed to figure out the best angle to climb on that branch and—

“What the hell are you doing?”

A tall, green-eyed man was staring at her with furrowed eyebrows. He was dressed casually, with sweatpants and a black t-shirt that emphasized the ink that ran down his left arm. The same muscled, tattooed arm that gave her very improper thoughts earlier today. Somehow, the photos didn’t do Roman Whitethorn justice. Or something. God, why couldn’t she get his name right?

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” He insisted, and Aelin just realized she was staring blankly at him. Her scheming abilities let her come up with a plan in the seconds that took her to get up and straighten her posture.

She curtsied. “I’m so sorry for the disturbance, Your Highness. I’m working, and I need to retrieve something from this tree. Now if you’ll excuse me—“

“Wait. What’s your name?” As serious as he tried to school his expression, the prince’s eyes were twinkling with amusement, and Aelin wondered why.

“Celaena,” she let the lie slip through her lips not for the first time, but this situation specifically left her feeling her pulse go a mile a minute.

He hummed. “Whatever you say, Princess.”

A/N: I have some sequel ideas, let me know what you think!

Edit: Now I’m definitely continuing this and here’s a snippet of what’s to come

HERE’S PART 2 and I’ll make a masterlist soon I promise

TAG LIST

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[running-in-the-dark]

I had a doctor's appointment this afternoon and just came back. some thoughts:

I love driving. it's amazing, it's great, it's the only time I really feel free.

... that is, until there is even a single car anywhere behind me. then I want to kill and murder and explode

those fucking insanely bright LED headlights should absolutely be illegal. half of the drive back I could not see anything because the fucker behind me had those.

this appointment could literally have been a phone call. I drove thirty minutes there and back and all he did was read the report from the MRI and say it's all good, see you in 6 months

my mother is so fucking dramatic. I dropped something off on the way back and said I don't have time to stay because we're viewing an apartment soon (my husband was already there on his own, I just wanted an excuse to leave). she asked where, I told her, and she kept repeating "oh [my real name]" in this melodramatic heartbroken tone. I was like ??? and she said that's too far away. it is literally 20 minutes from her house (vs 10 where we live now).

I wish I didn't hate new/unfamiliar places so much. that made me want to move very very far away.

if I do decide to change my name legally, there's no way I can do it before my mother dies. hearing her say my name makes me feel disgusting. I can not have her ruin another name for me

I spent maybe 5 minutes tops in my mother's house but that was still long enough to make all my clothes stink so bad. it's a mix of cigarette smoke, her fireplace, pets, and food. it's the worst smell on earth and I hate it so much

but when I came home and sat down, this happened immediately, so I feel better now 😌

[thej0ry]

Are you the three weed smoking girlfriends guy?

I go to say something but stop last second. Instead, a warm smile appears as I nod behind you. "Looks like rain. Come on in." You turn around to look, and past the sea of dead fields surrounding this lonely farmhouse, dark clouds were forming. One foot after the next, you enter. I close the door.

Inside, a warm and inviting kitchen lays in front of you. Small, but cozy. A sweet aroma lingers in the air. "I was just making some tea. Happy to share." I say as I gesture you through a door into the living room. Once you're seated on the couch, I go stoke the fire in the fireplace and then take a seat across from you in an old rocking chair. "Do you mind?" I ask as I take a pipe from a table next to me. "I-it's your house." You say with a weak smile. "It is, but nonetheless. I know some people can't stand it so I try and ask when I remember. Don't want to upset the only visitor I've gotten in quite a long time." "Oh, do you live alone here?" The warm smile from before is back on my face. "What did you ask me at the door? Am I the, what?" "The weed smoking girlfriends guy." "That fellow behind all those killings those years ago?" "Yeah, him." "Now what would make you go an ask me such a thing?" Deep exhale deep inhale, smoke hanging in the air. You feel strange. Light headed. You shake it off and continue. "I'm doing an investigation on him, trying to find him. I apologize for the bluntness of the question but I ask everyone I interview that. Suppose, well... suppose someone's bound to say yes eventually." The warm smile again. "Well, that's one way of going about it. But the things I've heard about him... question like that would upset him a great deal. And the things he's capable of..." I shudder as I blow another cloud of smoke into the air. You try and summon all your confidence and bravado as you lift your coat to reveal your holstered gun. "I'm... counting on it." Thunder booms as lightning flashes across the sky making you jump, ruining any attempt of the calm-cool-collected persona you were trying to muster. Another smile from me, but this one you can't read. It's not warm this time. Something else. I take a few more puffs from the pipe. My eyes never leave you. "Hate to break it to you, with all the work you're doing, but I heard he's been in jail for quite some time now. Key thrown." I mime turning a key in a lock before tossing it behind my back. "I heard he escaped. I know he escaped. Followed some leads and it led me here." "Led you here, isn't that interesting. Is that why I'm being questioned?" "I believe he lives-- err lived here." "Lived here?" The ceiling groans as a few low rhythmic thuds move across it. Despite your best efforts the surprise visibly startles you. "You live here alone?" You ask. "Now that you mention it, I do feel like there was something... odd... about the previous owner. I looked into it shortly after buying the house. I have some paper work, public records, about the previous owner I can show you if that would help. We can talk all about that, but first, tea." You watch me leave and when you're sure I'm busy in the kitchen, you stand and begin looking around. The living room is tiny, the door to the kitchen behind you, and in front of you are stairs leading up. A fireplace, bookshelf and chairs are the only things in the room. It takes just a quick glance at the book shelf and you know it's nothing but old irrelevant books and trinkets. But across the mantel of the fireplace are a number of framed photos. You start to examine them, an old picture of me on a fishing boat in a lake, a picture of what looks like a hike. Just as you're about to move on from the photos, you see it. You wipe the sweat from your hands and palms against your jeans and pick up the photo. Him. Three girls. Your stomach drops as you look at the girl in the middle. Her midriff showing. Hello Kitty tattoo. "Tea's ready." The photo falls back to the mantel as you jump and turn to see me standing in the kitchen doorway holding a tray of tea and biscuits. "What is this?" You pick the photo back up and thrust it towards my face, but you stumble forward, sluggishness hitting you all at once from no where. "What... what is this?" You repeat with a groan. "It's the good stuff." The smile back on my face. This time, no mystery behind it, you can read it clear as day. Sinister. "Good stuff?" You giggle, your hand on your head as you try and steady yourself. "Weed. It's strong is it not?" I reply. "Nothing like a nice hotbox for a rainy night." You look up at the ceiling, still hazy with smoke and watch it as it drifts about this way and that. More groans in the ceiling as a few low rhythmic thuds move across it. "You said you live here alone? Or..." Your hand shoots to your mouth, stifling a laugh. I only smile, and call out... not to you, behind you. To something deeper into the house. Something upstairs. "Tea's ready!" The low thuds suddenly get louder, faster, heavy, and they move across the ceiling towards the stairs. Fear shoots throughout your entire body, momentarily shaking off the haze and you reach into your coat for you gun. Whipping it out fast, too fast, it flies from your hands and into the far corner of the room. You almost don't realize what happened but the booming footsteps above are almost upon you and so you just run. Shoving past me you run into the kitchen and out the door to your car. Rain whipping at your face, in your eyes. Almost impossible to see, but you know your car is just there, right ahead. Digging your keys out of your pocket, you begin to smash the unlock button but lose your footing in the wet muddy ground. Landing hard, unable to move, your car headlights flash a few feet away from you. Close. So close. You can't help but laugh as the heavy footsteps behind you get louder and louder.

[therenlover]

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs Chapter One (A Three Chapter Helmut Zemo/Reader Fanfic)

(Thank you to the wonderful anon who requested angst and smut between Zemo and the reader because Zemo had to be away from her on the run!)

Synopsis: A year after working together with Zemo in the events of Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Sam and Bucky seek him out once again in need of shelter from John Walker. Meanwhile, Zemo’s wife resents his absence and prepares for guests.

Tags: Flashbacks, Depression, Alcoholism, Separation Anxiety, Arguing, Struggling Marriage, Reunions

Rating: T (E in future chapters)

Warnings: Guns, Swearings, Reader shows signs of alcoholism/alcohol abuse, Reader uses a hot shower as a mild form of self harm

Word Count: 5000~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

----------

Helmut Zemo was not often a man backed into a corner.

He was smart, resourceful, and had nothing left to lose. If it came down to the line, he would do whatever had to be done within his morals to achieve his goals, even if that goal was simply staying alive. The Baron bowed to no man, and made his enemies, no matter their size, fall to their knees with sheer wit instead of brute strength. That’s why, when he stood backed into an alley with the barrel of James Barnes’ gun to his forehead as the Falcon watched on, it was strange that he didn’t try to weasel his way out.

“We need answers,” Sam said, hands in the pockets of his dark hoodie. Bucky wore a similar one, only he wore a baseball cap instead of keeping his hood up. “How the hell did you break out of prison for a second time?”

Usually, Zemo would have replied with a clever quip. He had never been one to back down from a fight. This time, though, he looked almost frightened as he raised his arms in defeat. “I got in contact with friends on the outside during our short adventure together. They decided to help me out once I was re-incarcerated, willingly I might add. I had no part in the plan, but who would look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“And I guess I’m just supposed to assume you had no part in getting my pardon revoked?” Bucky spat.

“If you hadn’t noticed, James, I’ve left you alone,” A hint of his usual mockery slipped into Helmut’s tone, but he quickly pulled it back, “Believe what you want about me, but I’ve had some time since last year to… re-evaluate my feelings on the world. You had no choice but to do the things you did as the Winter Soldier, and as long as you pose no threat to society now I have no qualms with you,”

Despite the strangeness of Zemo’s response Bucky remained unphased. Sam, on the other hand, was less stoic.

“Man, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but the government is looking for Bucky and I harder than they’re looking for you, and it’s kind of all your fault, so excuse me for not giving a shit about your supposed sudden change of heart!”

“Can we get to the point? I’m afraid my flight leaves in an hour and I would hate to be late,”

“Cut the bullshit!” There Bucky went, pushing the cold metal closer to Zemo’s furrowed forehead.

“Bucky...” Sam warned.

“No, Sam, I can do this. Did you or did you not actively attempt to get my pardon revoked when you took us to Madripoor? Because thanks to you, a worse symbol than Sam is now standing unchecked with the title of Captain America AND he has access to the last of the new super soldier serum AND he’s trying to get us killed so we can’t tell the world about the awful shit he does,”

“I-” Zemo went to speak and, for the first time since he had met him, Sam believed he was being genuine. There was a tremble that made its way through him, all the way to his raised hands and even his voice. It was enough that Bucky even lowered the gun minutely. “I understood that by following my lead, the both of you were risking a lot. I didn’t intend any specific malice with my actions though, no. If I may… the two of you have attracted a lot of attention here in the past few days. I assume Walker is very close to finding you?”

Sam and Bucky shared a look before Sam responded. “Maybe, why?”

“I have a safe house,” he continued, “I don’t stay there often so the location isn’t compromised, but it’s my next stop. Might I suggest we take this conversation on the road? I would hate to host your reunion with Mr. Walker in an alley over my corpse,”

There was a moment of complete stillness. Zemo remained, face dark with that strange deer-in-headlights look, a perfect statue, as the barrel of Bucky’s gun remained pointed firmly in his direction and Sam shared what seemed to be a completely silent conversation with Bucky. It was true that they had been burned before. Zemo was a man with his own agenda who did what it took to fulfill it. That being said, he had returned willingly with them back to prison before he was broken out, and without his help, the band of freshly minted super soldiers would still be running around Europe causing chaos. In the end, Bucky lowered his gun slowly before tucking it away into his boot holster.

Zemo grinned.

“Don’t think this means we trust you,” Sam groaned, pointing a finger at the man.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, gentlemen, I believe we have a plane to catch,”

As the trio began to make their way out of the alley Bucky and Sam fell to the flank of the group. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Bucky asked, eyes darting between his two companions. Sam shrugged.

“At this point, I’m doing whatever it takes to get home to my family in one piece. If that means I have to ride in Zemo’s stupid private jet again and lay low for a while, then that’s what I’m gonna do, because Sarah and those kids don’t deserve to lose me all over again,”

“But don’t you think he’s acting a little… weird?”

“Don’t worry, I have my eye on him. If he tries anything we can just throw him out front when Walker tries to shoot us,”

“You’re doing a very poor job of concealing your conversation,” Zemo shouted.

Bucky stormed ahead as Sam laughed.

“Oh, shut up!”

Surprisingly, the drive to the airstrip was mostly uneventful, as was the relatively short flight from Zurich to Avignon. There was, of course, the usual cutthroat banter and tension so thick you could feel it like a fog hanging over the group, but in an unusual twist of fate, the baron did very little to initiate. Of course, he wasn’t fully innocent though. He never was. That being said, even as his chauffeur carefully navigated the stone roads to the dropoff point he was strangely quiet. He had texted someone earlier to have the house prepared for their arrival but he kept looking down at the phone as if a response would come. It didn’t.

Sam appreciated the break from the noise. To him, it was a moment of peace after a few months of constant opposition. For the duration of the trip, he had chosen to shoot a few choice quips Bucky’s way before taking a long nap. Bucky, on the other hand, was only growing more suspicious of Zemo by the minute.

After his time with Hydra, Bucky had become intimately acquainted with the type of man that Zemo was. He was ruthless, driven by ideals that couldn’t be changed by any amount of debate or theory read inside a prison cell, and willing to do whatever it took to fulfill those ideals no matter the cost. There was remorse but no regret. A man like that doesn’t just stop believing in the thing that led him to kill dozens if not hundreds of people, because once the impetus is gone so is the only thing upholding their sense of self.

In basic terms, he was hiding something. Bucky was intent on finding out what that thing was, a thing important enough to make Zemo of all people shut the hell up and tell his enemies exactly where his safe house was, and he wasn’t going to rest until he did. The answer came easily enough in the end, but not before Sam and Bucky were forced face to face with the strangest thing they had ever seen, even when including aliens and wizards. That thing was Zemo buying flowers.

The trio had gotten out of the car somewhere around the center of the city and continued towards the safe house on foot. A few minutes after they started, though, Zemo had spoken.

“I apologize, but I’ll have to stop for a moment,” He said, holding up a hand to alert the two men trailing him to the fact that he was about to stop. Sam quirked up an eyebrow.

“At a flower shop?”

There, to the right of them, was a small fleuriste. The window was a burst of bright color. Pinks, reds, whites, purples; a certain bunch of spring blooms had caught Zemo’s eye. He shrugged. “It’s rude to arrive at someone’s house asking for a favor without a gift, Mr. Wilson. Excuse me,”

With a comfort that said he had been into the shop many times, Zemo walked through the door and began conversing with the shop owner in perfect French, even referring to her as tu instead of vous as he made his purchase.

“Did he just say someone’s house ?” Sam asked Bucky, eyes widening.

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I think he did,”

“So, we’re just showing up at someone’s door,”

“Yup. Not to mention they’re someone who aligns themself with him,”

A groan escaped from Sam as he ran his hand down his face in disbelief. “I didn’t expect much from Zemo, but damn,”

“It’s your fault for expecting anything from Zemo in the first place,”

“For once, you’re right,”

They dawdled for a moment. As their conversation stilled, Zemo returned, now burdened by a sizable bouquet from the window. Around them, the city was starting to get off of work. Families walked together as businesses had their 5 o’clock shift change. Somehow as the world around them came to life it didn’t look at Sam and Bucky with anything more than a passing glance. They were tourists, nothing more. For a moment Sam understood why Zemo would go to a place like this for safety and anonymity.

Without ceremony, the trio began walking towards their destination once again.

“I apologize for the delay,” Zemo said, keeping his pace brisk and remaining about a foot ahead of his companions, “I suppose it’s become a bit of a habit that I buy Y/N flowers whenever I come back. We shouldn’t be long now, though, the house is just a few more blocks away, maybe 3 minutes by foot,”

“Y/N?” Bucky asked. The name felt heavy on his tongue, familiar. That had to be a coincidence though. Zemo would never align himself with anyone who had worked for Hydra, and there was no other place he could have heard that name and had it hold any significance. Right?

Zemo chuckled. “Y/N is our host. I’d appreciate it if you tried to maintain some semblance of respect when we arrive, she tends to have quite the temper and it would reflect badly on me if she believed I was asking her to indefinitely house two people who would happily send her to prison,”

“About that,” Sam chimed in, “Who the hell are we about to be staying with? It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t, and by extension, I also don’t tend to trust people who trust you,”

“I assure you, Sam, Y/N is more trustworthy to you than I will ever be,”

“That doesn’t answer my question, nor does it make me feel any better,”

“She’s American, and like you, she is seeking shelter from the government. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“Man, at this point I feel like you’re not telling us because she’s actually some sort of crazy Sokovian sleeper agent who’s gonna stab us in the back while we sleep. Am I crazy, Buck, or am I right?”

Bucky, who had been trying his best to stay out of the conversation, replied. “You are being unnecessarily evasive, Zemo, though that’s nothing new…”

“Right? Like, I’m really grateful that you’re lending us a hand, but I’ve gotta be honest, if I think for a second things are going south-”

Sam never got to finish his sentence.

Suddenly, Zemo stopped short, turning around and looking Bucky in the eye with a madness neither he nor Sam had ever seen before. His whole body was stiff, rigid. The hand that wasn’t cradling the flowers delicately was gripped in a fist at his side. He looked angry, but underneath the anger, he really just looked scared. “You will not touch her. Do you hear me? Do what you’d like with me, I have made choices worthy of punishment, but you will not touch Y/N. If you so much as think of it, all bets are off. Do you understand me?”

Bucky nodded, sharp. This was certainly interesting. Sam just smirked.

“Is there something else you want to tell us?”

Zemo walked up a small set of stairs towards a home to their right. “No, Mr. Wilson, I don’t believe so,”

The building was a nice one, all tan stone with dark wrought-iron fixtures on its many windows. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a normal midtown manor-house for some upper-class member of the community. The normalcy of it all hid its true purpose in plain sight. It was genius, really. Over a dividing wall made of the same yellowing stone, Sam could see a small sliver of vibrant green garden space and a pool at the side of the building.

With a steadying breath, Zemo knocked on the door.

“You have to knock on the door of your own safe house?” There was a hint of incredulity in Bucky’s voice as he crossed his arms. This was going to be a disaster. Why had they agreed to this again?

“A little etiquette goes a long way, James, especially when you’re already in the doghouse,” Then, the door opened.

Bucky froze. There, standing in the doorway with a pistol in her hand and a fire in her eyes, was a woman he thought long dead: you. This couldn’t be right! He had killed you back in ‘02 with the rest of the AAHR...

You quirked up an eyebrow at Zemo.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,”

They were so fucked.

________________

The day, on your end of the world, had gone by much slower.

It started off like any other, with the alarm on your bedside table blaring as you opened your eyes and your arms reached out into the emptiness in the sheets beside you. Sometimes, when Helmut’s flight got in late enough, you would wake up and reach to the side only to find that he had appeared beside you in the night. Those were the best kind of reunions. They were free of pretense, no bitterness or resentment clouded your sleep-heavy brain when you opened your eyes to his peaceful resting face, and you could simply fall into the comforting rhythm of husband and wife. If you reunited with a clear head things tended not to go as well.

You groaned. It wasn’t as if there was even a guarantee he would come back, especially not after the way you’d left things last time. The philosophy of attendre et espérer, waiting and hoping like an Edmond Dantés type, wouldn’t do you any good, at least not anymore.

Maybe it was time to start moving on…

Tomorrow. You could start thinking about the next steps tomorrow. For today you’d enjoy what you had.

Getting out of bed was difficult but you managed. The sun streamed through the curtains that billowed gently in the breeze near your balconette, brilliant gold beams illuminating the dust that danced in the air. The first thing you did was shuffle along to the corner and pour yourself two fingers of brandy from Helmut’s private collection. It was like a morning ritual these days, a numbing agent against the loneliness. Once the drink was downed you moved on to the closet to get dressed.

Dressing yourself wasn’t of much importance these days. You couldn’t exactly leave the house, and nobody was visiting, so more often than not, it was easier to just wear the same pajamas for a few days until you knew Oeznik would be around to drop off groceries. Today, though, you felt… filthy. Not dirty in a physical way, just sticky and filthy and unclean under your skin and in your very heart. Maybe a shower would help.

You looked around the closet with a clinical eye. It was difficult to be in there, surrounded by lavish dresses and expensive suits that you and your husband had worn arm in arm while plotting the downfall of the Avengers before your unsteady alliance had turned into so much more. Everything still smelled like his cologne. In the small, often-closed, walk-in closet, the scent had only intensified, covering every article of clothing with a fog of cedarwood and sage. It made you sick, choked the air from your lungs and left you gasping for even a single breath that didn’t sit heavy on your tongue with the bitter taste of that familiar musk.

The alcohol had helped. It always did. The remnants of its burn in your mouth formed a sort of guard against the scent of the closet as you searched through a pile of shirts for something soft and easy to wear. Your hands suddenly stilled.

“Zemo, I’m gonna be honest, this is the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen in my entire life,”

“I’m hurt! That’s one of my favorites,”

“Where did you even get it, a 90-year-old grandpa’s closet? Jesus Christ, it looks like something out of a shitty 70’s flick about family values,”

“I’ll have you know that I thrifted that sweater. It’s very eco-conscious you know,”

Your heart hurt. Well, no, your whole body hurt, but your heart ached a little more prominently as you carefully picked up the sweater and held it to your chest. It was terribly ugly, 4 sizes too big even on Helmut and covered in an olive and forest green argyle. Somehow he was always able to pull off the oversized thing no matter how ridiculous you had always insisted you found it. When was the last time he’d worn it again?

The memory evaded you.

Still, it was a happy relic, happier than most of the monuments to a failing marriage that lined the shelves of your beautiful personal prison. It wouldn’t hurt to hope that by wearing it, you might rub just a little bit of that lost happiness off onto your present-day, right? With one last forlorn glance around the closet, you gathered up the sweater and a pair of jeans before getting out as fast as you could. With the scent of cologne clinging to you, the shower wasn’t just a good idea now, it was necessary.

So, you showered. You took the stupid foot-long exfoliating brush Helmut loved so much and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed yourself under the near-boiling stream of water until your skin was pink and raw. Disappointingly, even the new skin felt filthy. It was better, though, less intense. With some lotion and a little bit of Neosporin on the fresh patches of blotchy red, you were able to feel okay. Not good. Not clean. Just… okay. At least you didn’t smell like him anymore. The clock read 12:14 when you finally made it out of the bathroom in search of some real food.

Lunch, if you could call it that, was a silent affair. The fridge was almost empty and the pantry was only a little less bare, so you threw together a cheese sandwich, not even bothering to waste butter and grill it. You ate it plain with another glass of brandy out on the pool deck. It was gone sooner than you hoped it would be.

Oh well.

You finished your brandy with a sigh. Only seven or eight more hours until you could finish your day with a few more drinks and pass out in bed until nine or ten once again. Ah, dreamless sleep. That sounded divine. Now if only you could fathom any non-depressing way to spend the time between sleeping and waking. Swimming was out, the chemicals would burn your freshly eviscerated skin. Playing solitaire for the fourth day in a row sounded like absolute hell on earth. Even watercolors, a usual calming respite from the torturous and neverending monotony of life trapped alone in a house you had no help in stocking, were off the table ever since you’d run out of paper.

Somewhere inside the house, your phone dinged.

The second the sound hit your ears you jumped, dropping your glass and letting it shatter into a thousand tiny shards on the stone of the patio.

Phones were a difficult thing to own for someone who was trying to stay out of the eyes of the government. They were too easy to track and could tip off enemies to your location with very little error needed on your part. Even searching the internet for innocent things was too risky. If your search history was too similar to that of the alias you had used before Helmut went to prison, it would have been easy for them to find a connection and send someone to track you down. Still, you kept a cell phone charged and ready on the kitchen counter despite the risk for one reason and one reason only: Emergency contact with your husband.

He never texted from the same number on more than one occasion, always switching from burner phone to burner phone as he flew across the country doing god knows what, but if he was ever in a situation where emergency contact with you was needed, he was able to reach you at your number immediately. It had only happened a couple of times, and each time he had been in a considerable amount of danger. So, when you suddenly heard the sound you dreaded more than anything else in the world, you were quick to rush inside, even ignoring the shattered glass at your feet as you shoved through the doors and found the phone.

The small, LED display was lit up with the notification. It made your heart both soar and sink.

Flying home with two guests. Prepare the two rooms for their stay. We will be there by 5 at the latest - B

You read over the message several times before letting the phone fall from your hand and back onto the counter with a dull thud.

That absolute asshole.

Three months. Three months you had spent sitting alone. Three months without a call, or a text, or a letter, or even a word of when he was coming back by way of Oeznik. Three months! And after three months of loneliness and sleepless nights and empty bottles on the drink cart he reaches out through an emergency line of contact that almost certainly means he might be dying only to tell you he’s bringing two strangers into your safe house, the place even he refuses to stay in too long in order to not give its location away. The scar on your spine was starting to burn as you leaned up against the counter and cried.

It was ridiculous to think you had ever believed him capable of more tact than that.

Really, it was your fault. From the beginning, you’d had too much faith in a man incapable of being trustworthy, even to those closest to him. You knew that, and yet you had married him. Maybe the soft touches and sweet lies he had spoon-fed you had made you weak. Maybe you always had been.

“I’m not a child, Helmut, I know what I’m doing!”

“I don’t think you do,” he shouted. He was a few drinks in now, you both were. The nights before his departures never tended to end well when you both drank. “Because no matter what I do to protect you, you have the need to disobey me! Have you considered that I do the things I do for your own good!”

“Oh! Oh yes, the things YOU do!” You slammed your glass down on the table as you stormed over to Helmut, “I sit here all day like a fucking dog in a cage while you fly to fucking Ibiza and flirt with supermodels, but YOUR story is just so fucking tragic! I’m your wife, Helmut! I’m not an animal or your property, I’m your goddamn wife! You can’t just order me to sit and stay like a dog,”

He glared down at you, eyes hawkish and glinting in the low lamplight. For the first time in years, he looked threatening, “You may not be a dog, or a child, or my property, but you are a weapon! It’s my job to keep you here, away from the-”

“Excuse me?” You interrupted. The two of you stood, inches away and yet miles apart. Slowly, the drive in Helmut’s eyes faltered. “Say that again. I dare you,”

“Schatz, I-”

“No, Helmut, you meant it so say it again. Call me that again. I fucking dare you,” Tears were streaming down your face now. He took a step towards you, hand extended to wipe them away, but you were quick to take a step back out of his reach.

“You misunderstood me,”

“I don’t think there was anything to misunderstand,”

You swept the shards of your glass tumbler into a dustpan, hands still shaking even ten minutes after you’d read Helmut’s message to you. As you worked, your last conversation before he’d left echoed in your mind.

How had it all devolved into that? It wasn’t hard to remember Helmut before prison, jaded and broken and lonely. He had been so much like you and yet so different. Each of you seemed to be the perfect balm for the others' wounds. In the end, despite all of his flaws, you had found yourself in love. Now that he was a different man, was that love gone? You couldn’t say. All you knew for sure was that you weren’t nearly drunk enough to be facing the confusing feelings in your brain. With the last of your energy, you emptied the dustpan of glass into the trash can and returned to the house, sweater itchy against your irritated skin, to ready the guest rooms.

The job wasn’t a long one. You had never used the guest rooms in all the time you’d spent at the Avignon property, so the sheets were already clean. There was just a thin layer of dust on the furniture that needed to be swept away as you checked to make sure the dressers were bare and the bathrooms were stocked with amenities. Then, when that was done, you were left to your thoughts as the hours ticked by.

Most of the time you spent sitting on the couch doing absolutely nothing. It sounded terrible, and in all honesty it was, but what else could you do? The house was already spotless so cleaning wasn’t an option, and you didn’t quite feel like doing much of anything as you stared at the clock and tried to remember a time when your life was less of a disaster. As it got closer to five, though, you started to get antsy.

You had tried your best to not think about the obvious issue of the guests. Zemo was not the type to threaten his home, even if he wasn’t happy with you, so usually having anyone who wasn’t Oeznik or another paid lackey aware of the location of your safe house would be a big no in his book, but then you started thinking of the implications of him bringing people into your home. Your home, not his. Was he on his way to kill you? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Or maybe he was bringing your replacement.

Now that thought made anger bubble up in your throat. You were no stranger to the idea that when your husband was away, he could be doing anything. There was no guarantee when he slept in lavish hotels or drank the night away in elite lounges that he kept his wedding ring on. The fact that there were two guests meant it was unlikely he was bringing two mistresses, but never impossible. Nothing was impossible when it came to Helmut.

No, it was more likely he had finally decided it was time to end your suffering. The shouts and boisterous laughter that started to sound directly outside of the front room window only confirmed the for you. Slowly, you crept towards the door and grabbed a small pistol from its place in the umbrella stand. If he wanted you dead you weren’t going to go without a fight.

Through the curtains on the front door, you could just barely make out the trio. When you saw them your blood ran cold. It was one thing if he needed help to take you down, but getting the Winter Soldier on board? Your rage only grew by the minute.

Helmut said something, probably planning the best course of action to catch you off guard, and you sneered. Two could play at that game. When he knocked on the door you opened it calmly and held the gun with your finger just barely ghosting over the trigger.

Everyone froze.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,” you said, rage coursing through every nerve in your body. You may have been in retirement for quite a few years, but you still knew how to handle a gun. Everyone there, except maybe the Falcon, knew that. As Zemo went to open his mouth, you prepared for a firefight.

“Because I brought you flowers,”

-------------

a/n: Sorry that only one chapter is out! The fic is just getting very long and complicated and I wanted to make sure you got as much as possible before the next episode drops lol. I’ll be working pretty much nonstop from now until then, though, so the next parts should be out soon!

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater​ , @elaineygrace​, @multiyfandomgirl40​ ,  @lovelymischief​ , @rami-malek-trash​ , @dazzlingseb​, @avgravy​ , @sarahsilver , @wh0re-4-techno​ , @forcebros​ , @sugarsweetkiss​ , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff​ , @killsandthrills​ , @novasstudy​ , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp​ , @inmate-marmalade​, @alanathedeer​ , @mossybank​ , @simsiddy​ , @xxspqcebunsxx​ 

Please do not post my work on other sites, thank you!

[writersblockedx]

Protector of the Party: Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: Gone

PAIRING - Steve Harrington x Reader BASED OFF - 1x08 WARNINGS - Mentions of violence and mental illness WORDS - 3.6K

A/n - Again very sorry that this has had to be posted a day later.

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Hopper hadn't allowed Y/n to go with him in the rescue of the kids. Herself, Nancy, Joyce and Johnathan were all told to stay and to just sit until he returned. Y/n, unsurprisingly, hated every moment of it.

While Johnathan sat between his mother and Nancy, Y/n was pacing around what was left of the Wheeler house. She avoided the Christmas lights, and the bits of wall as the girl thought. She trusted Hopper, but for him to go up against the lab, who had millions of spies dotted around and even a helicopter in the sky? It was a risk. A risk big enough for Y/n to panic. A lot.

The headlights which flashed across the front room curtains acted as water thrown onto the fire which was Y/n's worry. The three behind her pulled themselves from the couch as Y/n led the way to the porch. They lurked in the doorway for a moment before the truck stopped. The headlights turned off and each of the kids, and Hopper, jumped out of the car. "Mike!" Exclaimed Nancy from behind Y/n, pushing passing the girl gently to grasp her brother. "Oh my God Mike."

Y/n followed a similar action as Dustin got out from the car. Though, unlike Mike, Dustin actually met her in the middle. "You are so fucking stupid, you know that?" She said as she daren't even loosen her grip around the curly haired boy, scared that if she did, she'd loose him forever.

But, as Dustin wiggled, Y/n pulled and stood from the ground she had been kneeling against to reach Dustin's height. Her eyes soon landed on a small, shaven-hair, girl. The same one Dustin had once named was Mike's cousin and then, after admitting to his lie, came out about the girl being called El. "Is that my dress?" Nancy asked from next to Mike.

Y/n glanced between the younger girl and her friend, no words following. So Y/n put her hand out as an offering, "You're El, right?" She presumed.

The girl looked between the hand and Y/n's expression, hesitant in making any movement at all. So she looked to Mike. "She's the one I told you about." He spoke with a smile that seemed to bring comfort to El. "The protector of the party."

And with that, El stared back at the hand and she shook it.

Everyone returned back inside the house. They wasted no time as they found their seats back on the couch, the kids crouched on the floor as they started explaining...everything. How they knew all of it completely had Y/n puzzled. They called it the upside down. That was where Will and Barb were trapped, that was where this creature, or what the kids were calling the Demogorgon, had come from.

Mike had started to draw a picture to help depict his explanation of this upside side. He lined the paper first, before doodling a small person and then a dot of some kind. "Okay, so in this example, we're the acrobat. Will and Barbara, and that monster, they're this flea." Mike guided his words with the tip of his pen as he pointed between the stick figure and the dot. "And this is the Upside Down, where Will is hiding." Her heart stung at the thought of Will in this place, whatever it was, stuck there with this creature. Mike dropped the paper and pen before continuing, "Mr Clarke said the only way we get there is through a rip in time and space." Sounded easy enough.

Y/n's brows raised as she listen to Mike like a fish on a hook. "The same Mr Clarke who teaches middle school science." She thought was right to point out.

Dustin sat up from the side of Mike, "We think he was talking about a gate." He added with his toothless grin.

"That we tracked to Hawkins lab-" Informed Lucas.

"-With our compasses." Dustin continued as if the two were fighting over who was to say which part.

But as they realised the expressions that stared back at them, they realised there was more explanation needed. Y/n, however, despite her stereotype, still a nerd, was following completely. Enough, in fact, she finished Dustin's words for him. "The gate would have such a strong electromagnetic field that it changed the compasses direction." She realised, checking with Dustin for confirmation. Who, luckily for her, nodded.

Johnathan leaned into Y/n's side, "How do you know that?" He asked.

"Physics. Last year." She told him before watching the boy lean back and question whether he had actually ever paid much attention.

From the chair across from everyone, Hopper finally voiced his thoughts. "Is this gate underground?" His expression was stern as he glared right at El.

Y/n felt her brows narrow as she clocked onto what Hopper was questioning. While she didn't remember it well, she could recall the slit in the wall that had been glowing, littered in sludge that made the girl shiver just at the thought of it. "Yes." Said El.

Y/n glanced between Hopper and the younger girl. "Next to the large water tank?" She pressed.

She nodded, "Yes." That was the gate. The gate to the upside down. Her and Hopper had been face to face with it.

Dustin, suddenly concerned for the safety of his cousin, sat upright as he attempted to gage what had just happened. "How- how do you know that?"

Y/n looked to Hopper, pleading for him to answer. Instead, Mike's voice came, "Because they've seen it."

Now, Dustin only looked to the girl. His shook his head as his mouth fell agape, utterly flabbergasted. "You- You've seen it." He reiterated in disbelief. "How the hell have you seen it!"

Y/n gestured her hand for Dustin to calm - not that it did much. "I will tell you later. What matters now, is finding Will and Barb."

"Is there any way that you could talk to Will? That you could reach him in this..." Joyce questioned as her stuttering tone trailed off, pupils on El.

"Upside down." She finished for her.

"Yeah. Upside down."

El did nothing but nod, causing Nancy to lean forward, as her hands cupped one another. "And my friend Barbra? Can you find her too?" Another nod.

A thought rose in Y/n's mind that she debated on speaking aloud. Her eyes glanced to Hopper who was still looking at Eleven in curiosity. And, so, the girl gave into her thoughts. "My mum, she was at the lab too." As she started, El's expression faded, as if just the mention of the lab was so daunting to her. "I don't think she's there anymore. Maybe she's in the upside down too." She glanced over to Nancy before back to El. "Here, I have a photo of her-" Y/n rushed, rummaging through her jacket pockets, dragging out the wrinkled picture of her mother and passing it to El. "Here. Do you know where she is?"

El stared at the picture. She stared for a while. Long enough to make Y/n nervous. As the girl looked up, shook her head, Y/n felt this overwhelming distortedness that she couldn't quite place. "No." El said and the other girl felt like her whole body urged her to run from this situation. El passed the photo back over, barely able to make eye contact with Y/n. "Sorry." She paused. "Gone. Bad men."

Gone.

Y/n didn't have to question much further. The word rung around her mind. The image, the memory of her mother flooding through her mind, knowing that was all she had. There was no more, now. She was gone - as El had put it, because of the bad men.

The girl wobbled as she stood from the couch, tears falling from her pupils as she attempted to leave the situation. She couldn't be in front of Nancy Wheeler, or the whole party, or even Joyce, crying like she knew she going to do. So she fled. "Excuse me." She had muttered, rushing down the hallway as her body shook and the girl fought to catch her breath.

Y/n got into Johnathan's room just in time. She shut the door behind her and let her back fall against the wood, sliding down as her knees became weak. Her cheeks were stained in tears as her voice whimpered through it. Her mind tried to fight off the idea of death, the concept of knowing that her mother wasn't coming back, that Y/n would never hear her voice again, or feel her touch, that she was gone, it felt like something she'd never be able to accept.

A gentle knock came from the wood of the door. "Y/n," Hopper's voice was soft compared to how they usually spoke to one another.

The girl felt as if her back were like bricks, that maybe they would never move. But as Hopper knocked once more, she shuffled along, her back now leaning against the end of Johnathan's bed. It didn't take long before the door swung open and Hopper walked in. He closed the door behind him, taking the space next to Y/n on the floor.

Silence followed.

Hopper wasn't sure what to say. He'd been here before: the day he took Y/n's mother away from her and to the hospital where she was trapped. Then, he hadn't said anything to the younger girl, and he regretted it. "I'm sorry." That's what came out first. "We- I should have realised what this lab was doing well before now, okay? I never should have lost sight of your mum's case and I'm sorry I did." He paused, looking at the girl who couldn't break her gaze from the carpet. "But we have a chance now, to tear this lab to the ground."

She finally glanced back at him. "I just want to tell her-" Her voice was shaky as she thought to speak her piece. "I want to tell her everything I didn't." And with that, the tears flooded though. While Y/n knew her mum wasn't at the mental capacity to understand much now, she still wished she had sat at her bedside, and told her things. Told her about how school went, the boy she was crushing on and the stupid joke her little cousin Dustin had made on the drive home.

"I know." Said Jim as they glance to one another before Hopper took her into his arms, letting her tears stain his jacket as she cried. "I promise you, I will get everything the lab has on your mothers case, okay?" Y/n nodded as a response. "We just need to get through this first."

Y/n retracted from the man as she wiped her tears. "How are we doing this?" Was probably a good question to be asking.

Hopper gestured to what was waiting behind the closed door. "That's what they're planning." He informed. And so Y/n stood finally, balancing on her heels as she faced the door. "You don't have to do this, you know, kid." He told her. But still, she walked out, and joined the rest of the group who were huddled around the kitchen table.

She wasn't sure what she had missed. But all eyes fell to her. She took a sharp inhale as she made sure to hold the tears that sat in her waterline. "Tell me you have a plan." Y/n said and it seemed they all relaxed, knowing that she was okay.

And so the kids started to explain. Everything. From El attempting to gain contact, to now, their plan of creating a sensory deprivation tank for the girl. That way, she would be able to successfully contact Will. Which was why they had the paddling pool and were about to leave for the middle school. It seemed like a stupid, stupid plan when it was over simplified, but it was the only plan they had. So Y/n agreed to it.

She joined Hopper in the truck as he drove the way towards the school that was abandoned at this time of night. She sat in the passengers seat as she had done millions of times before. But, what was new to her, was the hoard of bickering kids that squabbled behind them. Y/n could tell in a glance, Hopper was biting down his tongue.

Y/n hadn't let go of the photo of her mother since El passed it her back. And she even felt guilty when she looked away from it, facing Hopper as his eyes starred at the empty road in front of them. "You know what I've realised this past week?" The girl started, shoving the photo gently back into her jacket pocket.

Hopper hummed in response, giving a glare to this kids through the rear view mirror that they were too distracted to catch. "That I'm good at it."

The man peeked over at her, "Good at what?"

She shrugged, "Finding things out, I guess." She paused as she thought on her next words. "Maybe made me think of doing something like an apprenticeship at the station in the Summer." She slyly slipped in with a smirk gliding across her lips.

Hopper had never laughed so loudly - especially considering current context. "You? At- At the station?"

"What is so funny about that?" Y/n groaned like the angsty teenager she was.

"Oh, I don't know, your criminal record might be a good reason why this is so funny." He spoke thought a chuckle.

"I'm sure you could pull a few strings!"

Hopper calmed a little as he finally looked to her with a genuine expression. "Since when did you want to become a cop?" He questioned.

She shook her head lightly, "Not a cop. More like, detective stuff." She admitted, thoughts that had been floating around her head since she leant over Hopper's shoulder that day in the library, leading her to where she was now. The way that once over-dramatic conspiracy theory had unravelled, had Y/n completely mesmerised when she thought back on it. It was incredible just thinking how they had gotten here. To be able to do that as a job, it had certainly peaked her interest.

The man sighed as he realised the seriousness of this request. "I'll see what I can do." He finalized, watching as a grin tugged at her lips.

"Thank you."

Hopper stopped for a moment. He couldn't recall a time she had ever actually thanked him. Even when he had rescued her from what could have been an arrest, or probably worse and could have gained herself a court case, no thank you. But, for some reason, she thanked him for a job offer he may or may not even be able to provide.

Hopper was soon pulling into the Middle school, swerving between two spaces before stopping the engine. And everyone returned to their allocated people. Johnathan went with Hopper to acquire the ice, Nancy with Mike to gather the hose, Dustin and Lucas (while Y/n pointed out against such) were requested to set up the kiddie pool. And Y/n was paired with Joyce to prepare young El for what she had done many times before.

Y/n located an empty classroom, switched on the lights and collected a few chairs to sit around. Joyce had brought duck tape to create the darkness required for El to enter this 'state'. Whatever that meant. The women wrapped it around a pair of large goggles to effectively get that pitch black sight. How El did this, as young as she was, was a concern for another time.

"This will keep it dark for you, just like your bathtub." Joyce assured, though she seemed uncertain in calling it a bathtub. This was all a very new concept for everyone to grasp. "You're a very brave girl, you know that, don't you?" She added when El hadn't given a reply.

She glanced to Joyce and then to Y/n. The other girl nodded as a way to reinstate Joyce's words before gently placing her palm over El's hand, a small smile glistening over her lips. "You are incredible for doing this. Putting yourself in danger to save people you've never known before." She said.

Joyce then placed her own hand on top of the one Y/n had let fall to El's. She smiled too. "Thank you." She paused for a moment. "Listen, we are going to be there with you the whole time, right?" Joyce glanced to Y/n who nodded, assuring her words once again. "And if it every gets too scary...in that place, just let me know okay?"

El listened to the words deeply before responding, "Yes."

"Ready?" Y/n questioned as she straighten her back, puffing out her chest with a glint in her eye which bred hopefulness.

El reciprocated her movements. "Ready."

And so Y/n led the way towards the gym that she hadn't step foot in since she left for High School. At that moment in time, the kids and Nancy were filling up the pool. Lucas yelling, "Warmer!" and, "Colder!" Every few seconds before it reached the perfect temperature. Then Johnathan and Jim began slicing open the bags of salt and letting it pour into the pool. They didn't stop until Dustin's egg floated above the water. Then it was perfect. And then El could climb into the pool.

Joyce held her hand from the right side and Y/n held the other, guiding the young girl into the pool until she gained her balance. She slowly crouched down before floating onto her back. As if in a instinct, the flights flickered. And they didn't stop. Each of them searched their surroundings before the flights burst and darkness covered the gym.

Y/n couldn't make out what El was feeling as she floated in the make-shift pool. All she knew was that, somehow, this would lead them to Will.

It took a few moments before the lights began to flicker once again. "What's going on?" Asked Nancy who was looking around the room as if it were going to answer her.

"I don't know." Mike responded as his eye stayed glued to El.

A sense of nerves kicked in to Nancy. She leant forward over the pool, "Is Barb okay?" She questioned as if El were in any kind of state to tell her right now. "Is she okay?" The girl repeated, her voice raising, a glint of pain weaved through her tone.

A long second passed before there came an answer, in a whisper. "Gone." Said El. One word that, while it came for a young girl, echoed through the whole gym and sent shivers down all spines. "Gone. Gone. Gone." She kept going and even she was frightened by it.

Joyce reached out her hands as to soothe the younger girl. "It's okay, it's okay." She calmed as El's words faded. "It's okay, we're right here, honey." She assured. And soon, El's movements slowed and she panting nearly as much as she had been prior.

And not long after, the girl spoke once again. "Castle Byers."

Everyone looked to one another.

"Will?" El called.

She had found him.

Joyce almost leaped forwards into the pool just at the mention of her son. "You tell him-" She paused as to conjure up the right words. "You tell him I'm coming."

Y/n could only watch the young girl. The girl who had been in the same lab as her mother. Who could find places that seemed nothing more than fiction. It made her question if what Y/n's mother had been saying, about being able to enter minds and to mould thoughts, maybe that wasn't the bullshit everyone had called it out to be. I mean, if that lab had really taken her from the hospital, they must have wanted something from her.

The static crackling behind Y/n dragged her from her thoughts. And, for a second, she thought she had been dreaming when a, "Hurry." Was sounded through the static of the walkie. But as she looked to everyone; they had all too heard it.

Will was alive. He was safe.

Joyce leaned over once again, "Listen, you tell Will, you tell him to stay where he is." She instructed. "We're coming, okay? We're coming."

Eleven jolted out from the water, throwing off the duck taped goggles. Joyce held the girl tightly as to calm her as her breath became uneven. No one dared to move. Not yet. Everyone needed to let what had just happened sink in.

But, there was a sense of haste that followed. If Barb was gone, then maybe Will was next and maybe they didn't have long. Truly, they knew nothing, but it was best to move now than not at all. So, not long after, they started to disband.

Y/n took El into a towel as to get her body temp back up again. Then, she guided her to the bleaches where the girl sat, comforted by Y/n's arms and the rest of the party sat around her. Y/n watched from afar as Johnathan, Nancy, Hopper and Joyce discussed their next moves. She couldn't quite tell the tone of the conversation. Only that they all seemed to follow Hopper when he stormed off. The girl thought about following them, but the tight grip El held on her, stopped that from happening.

But, when it had been ten minutes and there was still no sign of them, Y/n's concerns raised. "Look after her." She ordered the boys before wondering out of the gym.

And just outside, Nancy and Johnathan were gathering their things as they stood from the floor. No sign of Hopper or Joyce. "Where's your mum? And Hopper?" She questioned.

Nancy and Johnathan shared an expression which made Y/n nervous. "They went to find Will." Johnathan finally dropped.

Her brows narrowed and she glanced between the pair, "And what are you two doing?"

There was a longer paused. This time, Johnathan looked to Nancy to answer.

"We're going to kill it."

--

Taglist - @fanficfanatic204 @neverylee @myheartonthemove @satsuri3su @gobringmemyfood @yourpalheapass @andraimeide @notanordinaryprincess95 (Let me know whether you would like to be added or removed)

Chapter Nine (Monster Hunting) to be published Wednesday 8pm BST

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Newcomer: Chapter 2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!Reader

Words: 2.3k 

Summary: The Outer Banks was a place you’d only heard of until recently. The unfolding changes in your life had led you to this very moment, and it appears you still have much to learn... 

Warnings: swearing, (***) minor time jumps 

A/N - sorry for the delay, had a huge assignment due and work <3 I know this is a slow ass start to the series, but trust I’m trying to build momentum LMAO 

It had been just over a week, and seemingly still trying to settle in. Majority of your belongings, clothes and other sentiments have now been unpacked and neatly placed away in their new space, although you felt the hardest part wasn’t over just yet. Yourself, Caleb and Anya still struggled to find your way around town, mostly succumbing to the help of Topper, who despite initially being ever so welcoming, had grown slightly agitated from the coercion of having to always help. He’d be dragged out of whatever event or plans he had made, just to help out, especially during the grueling days of the unpacking stages of moving. Not to mention the not so discrete argument you’d overheard, just a few days ago, that he had with his mother, complaining about not being able to enjoy his own summer break. 

You couldn’t deny that your presence did somewhat impede on his break, therefore, the guilt was there. You knew you’d have to start taking on some accountability, with or without Topper’s help. 

“Y/N, can we just run to the store real quick, I need to grab a few things and you know how hopeless I am with directions…Please, come with, or else I’ll have to get Topper and we both know how much he loves-”

“Yeah, yeah-”

With a reluctant sigh, you tagged the page you’d just turned over in your book and propped yourself off the bed, adjusting your midi skirt before nodding in agreement. 

One of the most convenient things about the Outer Banks was that nearly everything was within walking distance. It gave you a chance to explore the scenic landscape and water front, and perhaps even chat with a few of the locals you hadn’t yet properly met. 

“So, how are things looking with that JJ guy? He seems pretty cute,” You intrigued, nudging your sister’s shoulder into conversation. 

“Yeah he’s great actually, he's a really funny guy. He, uhm, he wants to meet but-” 

“But what, Anya? That’s exciting! We sure could do with someone else’s company that isn’t Topper.” 

“Yeah, I know but, I, well we, don’t really know him that well. Who’s to say he isn’t some sociopath, Y/N.”

“I highly doubt anyone around here is a psychopath, Anya. Look around, this is a place people come around to relax or retire.”

“Don’t speak too soon, Y/N…”

For some odd reason, you hesitated in a response. Anya was right, you had no familiarity with the people of Outer Banks, although it just seemed like an outrageous place for crime. Ever since arriving, you felt some unexplainable ease here. 

“But I mean yeah sure. I’ll probably meet up with JJ some time… In public though, and you need to promise me that you’ll be on the lookout. Not like you’re busy with any plans at the moment, huh,” Anya remarks, as you appeasingly roll your eyes: God she could be so paranoid. 

“Yeah, yeah. I promise. Think we turn right up ahead-”

Continuing right on the pathway, you could just faintly decipher the movement of people bustling in and out of the stores, and with that a wave of relief settled over you. Seemed like you knew your way around after all, having doubts along each turn of the walk.  

“Make this quick, Anya, the sun’s starting to set, okay.”

“Whatever, Mum!” Anya quips, before rushing off into the convenience store, leaving your lonesome self outside waiting. 

You watched the crowd across the street at the diner, enjoying their dinner, as you observed the locals in action, contemplating who was who, as you heard Evelyn exchange many names with your father over endless dinner conversations. 

One name that stuck by you was “Cameron.” 

Evelyn mentioned it countless of times, although you’d simply assumed they were one of the many well-known families that had established themselves in town. There wasn’t much else you knew, or wanted to know. You hardly met anyone else outside of the house, nor were you in any rush to. 

“Hey!-”

Instantly snapping from your extensive thoughts, the familiar voice dragged you back to reality, as you turned your sight to its direction. 

“It’s Y/N, right? Anya’s sister! It’s me, JJ, the waiter-”

“Yeah, of course, I remember you-”

As formal and proper as your manners from childhood were, just as you’d gone in for a handshake, JJ wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in warmly for a friendly embrace, before letting you go. 

It had caught you off-guard, although not at all in a distasteful way. 

“How are you? How’s Anya?” He asked, folding his arms as he leant against the wooden post of the front deck. 

“Yeah we’re good! I’m sure Anya’s kept you posted, we’ve pretty much moved in now. How about you? I haven't seen you around.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been pretty good! Oh that’s great to hear, that would mean you guys are free to come to the Boneyard tonight!” 

“The what?”

“The Boneyard? Where we have this party with a kegger, Topper didn’t tell you?” 

By the puzzled expression reeked across your face, JJ knew to take that as an immediate no, not questioning it any further. 

“Well if you’d like, I could meet with you guys later and escort you there myself. There’s a few friends of mine I’d like to introduce you guys to.” 

“Yeah, sure. That would be lovely, JJ-” 

And as perfect as the timing could get, Anya returned from her little store run, stunned by JJ’s unexpected presence. 

“Anya- I was just telling Y/N, I’d love to take you guys out tonight to the Boneyard, I was going to text you about it before, but something with my Dad-” 

“That’s fine, but we just don’t know where exactly the Boneyard is.”

“That’s okay, JJ’s got us covered,” You exclaimed, before exchanging a friendly wink to JJ who just managed to catch it.

***

“You texted JJ our address right?” You persisted, growing anxious by the thought that perhaps JJ might’ve forgotten about you two. 

“Yes, for the last time Y/N could you just relax. He should be here any minute now!” 

And just on cue, in the close distance, the roaring sound of an old engine with dull headlights belonging to one of those old, retro “hippie” vans had pulled up through your drive-way. JJ’s head popped out excitedly by the window, waving for you guys to join, and immediately you both walked over. 

It was difficult to convince your father of going out tonight, in fact, he’d been pestering you both to get out and mingle. As soon as you’d both approached him with the idea of heading out to some party, he leaped with relief, and encouraged you both to take up the offer. He was easy going like that, trusted you both knowing how well he’d raised you both. Of course, he covered some basic ground-rules: no drinking, no drugs, no smoking. 

By the time you’d both arrived to the van, you could just make out the silhouettes of some figures inside the van through the grimey windows. JJ was out of the van, as the courteous man that he was, pulling the side door right open. 

“John B-” Pointing to the boy on the driver’s seat, who gave you a friendly wave, made himself known. 

“Kie-” A lovely, young girl, exchanged a gracious smile and nod to both Anya and yourself, before JJ finally introduced “And this is Pope-”, a young, pleasant man sat beside Kie. 

“Guys this is Anya, and her older sister Y/N. They just moved here like a week ago.” 

“Nice to meet you all, thanks for letting us join you guys tonight-” You warmly proclaimed, before gesturing Anya into the van with you following her behind. 

As JJ was carefully closing the door behind you, John B mentioned how JJ spoke of you two, confessing you to be the “mystery newcomers” before kindly welcoming you to the Outer Banks. 

You felt Kie’s over gaze fall between yourself and Anya, and felt somewhat intimidated, although it there was no threatening intent to it, however more of a protective sentiment. 

“So you guys are Kooks, huh?” Kie blatantly questioned, before Pope nudged his elbow into her, as though to signal her to stop whatever interrogation she had planned. 

“Sorry, what?”- Anya questioned in response, frowning as she looked around the van, back to you.

“Kie, stop. They don’t know about any of that stuff. Just drop it, okay!” JJ insisted, as he ran his fingers through his blonde locks, almost in frustration. 

“We really have no idea what this whole Pogue-Kook business is, but perhaps you could enlighten us one day, Kie-” You suggested, as amiable as possible, not wanting to already cross the line with the few locals you’d just met. 

“I sure will, I just can’t believe you guys live with Topper. He’s such an-”

“Ass?-” Anya intervened, finishing off Kie’s sentence precisely the way she intended, making Kie smile in agreement. 

“Yeah, I don’t think he likes us very much,” Anya confessed, and as much as you hated “gossiping”, you couldn’t deny this one. 

“Well Kie, you’re on to talk… What about your Kook year?” John B laughingly mocked, as Kie infuriatingly shoved his shoulder. 

“S-So what exactly is the difference between a Pogue and a Kook?” You intriguingly questioned, shifting your gaze from Kie to Pope. 

“Well, to put it short, Pogues live on the Cut, which I assume Topper would rather die than enter. Whereas yourselves and our Kie here, live on Figure 8,” Pope answered.

“So it’s just a social class thing?” You quipped, being reminded again of how very unprogressive things were around the Outer Banks. 

“Exactly!-” Kie shouted, a hint of relief, as though finally finding someone who’d shared mutual understanding with her cause. 

“I mean there’s more to it-” JJ added.

“But it’s best if you guys don’t get as involved, your only just new here-” He calmly reassured.

“Just keep an eye out for the Kooks, they usually come to these sort of events anyways for the booze they can’t afford-” Kie ridiculed. 

“Yeah, especially Rafe-” Pope uttered, his tone reeking of bitterness to the name. 

“Wait-Who exactly is that? The name just sounds familiar-” You brush off, not wanting to vex Pope any further. 

“Good God, he’s the worst of the worst-” Pope scorned. 

“An asshole-” Kie provoked. 

“He’s the older brother of Sarah Cameron, I’m sure you’ve met her. She’s Topper’s girlfriend,” John B confessed.

“HA! Topper has a girlfriend, since when?!” Anya broke out mockingly laughing: as Kie and JJ chuckled to her comedic outburst. 

“He must be that bad, huh?” You uttered, as the rest began to settle themselves. 

“He’s a terrible person, Y/N. If I was you guys, I’d avoid him at all costs,-” Pope insisted, although by the seriousness of his voice, it seemed more of a warning than anything. 

***

The Boneyard was a secluded location of the island, where the ashy white trunks of dead logs were arranged in a way to accompany large crowds, and rowdy parties far from the complaints of the adults. As you’d all arrived, kegs ready at the hand, the party had already commenced, as people from which John B described had consisted of Pogues, Kook and tourists. Regardless, all strangers to you. 

As you finally eased yourself into that party mood, you found yourself enjoying the company of the Pogues, they were quite the friendly bunch. And it seemed ANya was letting loose as well, no thanks to her new-found companions: it always seemed like an impossible mission for Anya to enjoy herself, although witnessing her from the standpoint of a bystander, you felt comforted. 

“I’m just going to go grab myself a drink-” You assured John B, as he nodded in agreement. 

As you crammed yourself through the crowd, you felt a tight grip pulling on your elbow, making you topple in the direction of whomever it was that grabbed you. 

“Topper, what the fuck?”

“How the hell did you get here, let alone find out about this?” He exclaimed, by the faint smell of the beer oozing with each breath, you could tell he was slowly becoming intoxicated.

“No thanks to you-” You snapped, before jolting your arm out of his strained grip. 

“Seriously, Y/N. Does your Dad even know you’re here?”

Before you could even respond, some sort of internal sixth sense, felt an intense pair of eyes on you. As you shifted your gaze, to a bunch of people standing behind Topper, you’d immediately recognised his face. 

For some odd reason you felt a shiver crawl down your spine, as though in fright of seeing some ghostly figure. His intense, blue eyes just fixated on you and only you, as he took sips of his drink, with one hand snugged away in a front pocket. It seemed he was in conversation with a bunch of other guys, all dressed quite similarly to one another in their polo shirts and summer shorts, and yet he was not at all engaged... Only to you.  

“Earth to Y/N!” Topper loudly interjected, stirring you to snap back, as you fixed your view on him. 

“Y-Yes, yes he does. Now could you just let me be?” 

And before you knew it, you instinctively stormed off, before Topper had the chance to drunkenly question you any longer. As you disappeared into the crowd, heading for the kegger, your mind persisted in contemplation. 

That was Rafe, surely. You vividly remembered the whole, minor incident during your first encounter with him. 

After what the Pogues had confessed about him, and by his looming nature, you’d never felt so unnerved by someone, you’d in fact, never even met.

But why?

TAGLIST - @juliep7654 @foggybanditgardenprune​

[perksofhs]

‘I think that might be the sexiest thing you have ever said to me’

This was requested literally a year ago, I hope I did the prompt justice! Also it sort of goes along with ‘Please forgive me, I need you baby’, kind of like a prequel! xx

(Warnings: smut and mature content but also some fluff too, minors DNI) 

You hated going to parties, Harry thrived in those kinds of setting, you however did not. You’d spent most parties by Harry’s side, admiring his ability to talk to anyone like they’re old friends, never shy or embarrassed not matter the topic of discussion. You admired that about him, his outgoing personality balanced your somewhat introverted one. 

You’d been at the party for an hour or so, and if you were honest, you weren’t really sure whose party it actually was, but either way you were there, milling about with a few acquaintances, Harry carrying the conversation as usual. You take another sip of the quite large glass of red in your hand, scanning the room as it filled with more and more people, trying to pick out anyone familiar when your eyes landed on the last person you wanted to see, Mel. Mel was a ‘friend’ of Harry’s, but it was abundantly clear to anyone who watched them interact that she wanted Harry and Harry was oblivious. 

Whenever they hung out she was always touching him in any way she could, an exaggerated laugh that ended in her hand playfully swatting at his chest, or her touching his bicep as she spoke to him. It was obvious that she was flirting, and it pissed you off every time you were witness to her behaviour. After all, Harry was yours. You trusted him fully, but Harry’s biggest flaw was undoubtedly his ability to see the best in everyone whilst completely missing large red flags. 

Mel caught you staring, faking a smile before sauntering over to the two of you. “Harry!” she chirped, completely ignoring you, Harry turning and greeting her with a big smile. “Hey Mel! I didn’t know you were coming!” “You know I never turn down a good party” she says, giving Harry a hug that lasted longer than you would like. Mel turns to you, another fake smile thrown your way “Oh hey I didn’t even see you there! How are you?” she says, her voice sickly sweet. You attempt to force a somewhat believable smile before responding with a “Yeah good thank you”, Mel already focussing her attention back on Harry before you could finish your sentence. For the next 45 minutes she dominated the conversation, the acquaintances involved people slowly but surely wandering away until it was just the three of you left, and by then you had downed two more large glasses of red and were well and truly tipsy. 

On top of being borderline drunk you were more than a little angry, you were filthy, seething even. Mel had gotten on every last one of your nerves and then some. Your heart was racing as Mel continued to carry on about something stupid probablym you really couldn’t focus on anything but how much you couldn’t stand her. “So Harry, I’m planning on heading to Malibu next weekend, do you want to tag along?” Mel says completely ignoring you in these plans of course. “I mean we’re no-” “Sorry Mel we’ve got plans, remember baby?” You say confidently, taking Harry by surprise as you cut him off. “Come on Harry I was planning on hitting up that vintage shop you love” Mel says boldly. “Sorry Mel did you not hear me? We have plans and they don’t include you” you spit back, Harry remaining quiet not daring to show how much he was loving this side of you. You could tell Mel was pissed but trying to cover it up, “Alrighty then, I’m gonna go get another drink” she says, walking away in a huff. “Baby you ok?” Harry says, turning to face you. “No Harry she’s ridiculous! She just tried to invite you on a weekend away with her! Who the fuck does she think she is?” You were pissed and Harry was turned on. “Don’t worry about it, I’d never go, although I do like that vintage shop” he joked, leaning to kiss your forehead.

Your mind was spinning, which may have been the alcohol, but you needed to show Mel that you weren’t intimidated by her. Suddenly you grab Harry’s hand, pulling him up the stairs of whoever’s house this was and into the first bedroom you find, closing the door behind you before pushing him up against the wall. Harry looked at you slightly shocked as to what was happening “what are yo-” you cut him off with a kiss, the anger and alcohol surging through your veins. You fisted his hair, deepening the kiss before dragging your hands over his chest, down his torso and eagerly fiddling with the buttons on his pants as he pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere else in the room along with his pants. Harry wrapped his arms around your waist lifting you up as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso, your lips remained on his as he carried you to the bed, throwing you down before hastily pulling your pants down your legs. “I don’t know what has gotten into you but I fucking love it” Harry says, tearing his shirt off and taking you in for a moment before leaning down trail kisses down your collar bone, his hand finding your inner thigh. You writhe at his touch, knowing exactly what he was about to do. He takes his time gently tugging your underwear down before positioning himself over you, placing his lips back on yours. This was all too slow for you; you were hot and needy, and you couldn’t wait any longer. You reached down, hastily tugging his briefs down, before grazing your fingers along him, feeling him grow harder and harder as you reach the tip. You knew it sent him wild. “Stop” he moans, firmly grabbing both of your hands and putting them above your head, holding them in place with one hand, the other trailing along your belly and down to where you so desperately needed him. His fingertips finally reach the sensitive skin, rubbing achingly slow circles with his thumb and forefinger, a moan leaving your lips as the motions quicken. “Harry please” you beg, bucking your hips up, needing him. Harry obliged releasing your hands, lining up, giving himself two pumps before crashing his lips back on yours as he pushed himself in. You feel yourself stretch around him; the first movement slow to allow you to adjust before he quickened his pace. You take a sharp breath as you feel him go deeper and deeper with every thrust. Your legs wrap around his back, needing him to go even deeper. Your breath quickens along with his, a string of uncontrollable moans leaving your mouth. The anger from the night was slowly dissipating as the two of you got lost in each other. 

Your fingers gripped his shoulders tighter as the two of you began to hit your peaks. Just as you were nearly there, the tingle in your toes already building, the door creaks open followed by the sounds of heels and an unbearably whiny voice called out ‘Harry? Harry hun are you in here?’. You knew who it was before she even opened her mouth, but you didn’t let it stop you. Harry’s head snapped up, disconnecting his lips from your neck ‘For fucks sake Mel don’t you knock? Fuck off!’ a smirk growing on your lips the second the words left his mouth. Mel looked like a deer in headlights, you swear you see her knees almost buckle at the site of you as her cheeks grew more red by the second ‘I fuck- uh I’m sorry, shit I’ll j-, I’ll just leave’ she said in an absolute panic as she tried to avert her eyes but you weren’t trying to avoid her gaze, instead something spurred you on, wanting to really make crystal fucking clear that he was your, not hers. You ground your hips harder against Harry’s, he hadn’t dared to stop throughout this whole ordeal as he was desperately close to hitting his climax. You moaned his name loud enough for Mel to hear as she scrambled her way out of the room. The door slammed shut and you bit your lip, allowing yourself a small moment of victory before turning your full attention back to the man between your legs. ‘She’s gone baby, now finish me’ you whispered in Harry’s ear, eliciting an almost pornographic moan from his lips as he quickened his pace, reaching down to rub your sensitive bud, wanting to push the both of you over the edge so badly. The second his ring-clad fingers touch you you’re gone, the tingle starting in your toes as the coil tightened in your belly, ‘baby, I’m near- fffuck, nearly ther-oh god’ you moaned as the coil snapped and you lose it, hitting your peak. Your toes curled, fingers digging into Harrys broad shoulders as you rode out your intense orgasm. Harry continued to thrust deep into you, becoming just slightly sloppier, relishing in the moment as he’s finally pushed over the edge as well ‘shit you’re so fucking good baby, so fucking good’ he panted as he came, taking you in as he started to come down off his high. Allowing his body to collapse atop of yours, Harrys lips found your jaw once more, placing wet kisses on your jawbone. “God love you so fucking much” he says taking a moment to rest his head on your chest, a giddy smile on his face, “I love you too baby” you said, placing a kiss on the top of his just slightly sweaty forehead. 

“I was going to suggest that we go back out to the party but If I’m being totally honest, all I want to do is go home and do this all over again, what do you say?” Harry says, shifting from his position up onto his feet, reaching a hand out to pull you with him. “I think that might be the sexiest thing you have ever said to me” you teased, stealing one last kiss before the two of you got dressed and made your way back out to the bustling party hand-in hand. It was obvious to anyone who saw you what had just transpired, but you couldn’t care less what any of these strangers thought. You walked back into the main living area, to collect your things, immediately spotting Mel standing rather awkwardly with a group of people, trying to ignore your smug look. Harry led you through the room, waving a few quick goodbyes as you made your way out of the house and into the waiting Uber. You knew that Harry, being the kind person he is, would eventually apologise to Mel for everything but that didn’t put a damper on your victory because all that mattered was she finally knew that Harry was yours, and only yours. You’d won and god did it feel fucking good. 

Hi lovelies, this was requested pretty much a year ago but my goodness I’ve been through so much in this last year that I haven’t had much time to write. I hope you enjoy reading this little piece, I surely enjoyed writing it! If you have any requests just let me know. All the love, E xxx

[reallyreallyreallytrying]

Let me tell you about my Saab IV

Let me tell you about my Saab. I stole it from a chieftain of the moleman species, a vicious conqueror who enslaved my meagre settlement and planned to gut me for transplants to prolong his failing body. His name was Stonebeak. He and his witch doctor would ride on chariots drawn by mutated centipedes past the tunnels where I destroyed my once-strong back breaking rocks. My hands shook on the jackhammer. My sinus was swollen with earth. Stonebeak's witch doctor crept behind me with a sharpened femur, poking my flanks and observing my reflexes. I knew the boss always switched organs on the first high tide of the season. I knew that the date was fast approaching.

Stonebeak's love of collecting surface cars was famous in the tunnels. We'd heard the revving of his Daihatsus as we lay locked in our dormitories, the snarl rattling through the metal ducting. We’d smelled the acrid puff of burning diesel seeping under doors. They would be my escape. Over many weeks I siphoned kerosene from the tunnel borer and smuggled it home in tiny sachets. I picked beetle shells out of my daily bowl of insects and stashed them in a skull under my bunk. When the time came I combined the ingredients and melted the chitin into a hard shellac lockpick. With shaking hands I cracked the lock. I said a prayer for my fellow workers, daubed wet mud on my face for camouflage and clicked the door shut behind me.

Stonebeak’s warren extended four kilometres below the surface and was made up of over a thousand kilometres of tunnel. Each day it grew bigger. The tunnels stretched from the lake floor to the canyons. There were marketplaces and dungeons. There were burrows upon burrows, rows upon rows, each filled with glistening pink molemen, hairless and nude, blue eyed and buck toothed. Their hideousness was matched by their violence. A moleman would wake up one morning and slit his own throat out of spite, thrashing his legs with rage as he drowned in blood. A moleman loved biting and kicking and fighting above all else. To escape I would need to be seen by none of them. A moleman would eat you before it reported you to guards. And I had no idea where Stonebeak’s garages were.

I crept up the dormitory tunnel to the main thoroughfare, where drunken moleman guards, savage with poisoned moonshine, murdered each other and minced the dead bodies in portable shredders. They laughed at the dead. The dead were weak. I crouched beside a burned out tractor and pushed it slowly towards the onramp to InterTunnel 1. As the sounds of revelry faded behind me I gave the tractor a push. It careened down the ramp and I heard a satisfying crash as a moleman truck ploughed into it. I skidded down the dirt slope and hauled the dazed driver out of the truck. He had a sawn-off in the cabin. I gave him a long kiss goodnight with the shotgun butt and left him draped over the tractor.

As I put the truck into gear there was a movement in the passenger seat. It was a molechild. A girl. I could tell because she lacked the distinctive fleshy collar of the males. She looked fearfully at me. “Was that your daddy?” I asked her.

“Yes,” she spat. “He was a son of a bitch. Where you goin’?”

I pointed up. “Mole truck’ll never take you there,” she sniggered. The trucks lost power close to the surface. It was how Stonebeak prevented molemen from leaving.

“No fucking shit,” I told her. “That’s why I’m going to steal one of Stonebeak’s surface cars. Do you know where he lives?”

She nodded with satisfaction. I hit the gas. We rolled down the InterTunnel past black hole after black hole. “Here,” said Molegirl, and we hit an offramp. It was paved with smooth concrete. The tunnels became less bare. There were lanterns and rock carvings. We passed quiet molemen villas, their round front doors a rich brown in the truck’s headlights. Only the wealthy had front doors. Worker molemen had bare earth burrows.

As we steered uneasily around a quiet circuit there was a flash of light ahead. Bad news. It was surface daytime. The moles slept lightly and would instinctively smash through walls if woken suddenly. They hated that. Lights on a residential street meant one thing: a trap. I swerved to the side, threw the truck into reverse and smashed the back end into the front door of a nearby burrow. Just in time. A mortar exploded on the concrete where I’d just been. Molegirl shrieked with savage delight. I swerved around the crater and gunned the engine. I’d need to find another way to Stonebeak’s garage. I burned back out to InterTunnel 1 and took the next exit. My plan was to loop around and find the other end of the circuit I’d just been on. The ramp went up and up. I passed a waterlock that led up to the lakebed. I kept driving. The bare dirt tunnel led to tarmac. The rattle of the truck was replaced by a smooth whir. The road opened up into a wide roundabout. In the centre was a jagged lump of obsidian. On one side, pale green lanterns hung above luxurious oak double doors. Unbelievable. I’d done it: I was at Stonebeak’s mansion. On the other side of the roundabout short driveways led to wide holes set side by side. This was it. I slammed my foot on the accelerator and crashed through the door of the first. My head whipped forward and back. I saw stars. Dizzily, I backed the truck out and climbed down. I staggered forward to the driver’s seat of a 1983 Mitsubishi Lancer. Beautiful car. I tried to turn the ignition but it choked and fell silent. I heard the groan of heavy machinery behind me. I heard the roar of Stonebeak, half asleep and enraged, as he staggered out of his burrow and saw the devastation. In a panic I tried to haul open the door of the next garage burrow along. Locked. I heard the thunk and click of Stonebeak loading a mortar into its launcher and crabwalked my aching, whiplashed body behind the Mitsubishi.

The blast threw me against the back wall of the burrow. There was a flare as the Mitsubishi caught fire. The door of the burrow next door swung loosely on its hinges. I hauled myself inside to find a beautifully restored, glossy black Saab 900 Turbo. An incredible marriage of style and engineering. I paused a moment to take in the view. Then I slipped into the driver’s seat. Molegirl dived through the passenger window. The key was in the ignition. I peeled out of the garage and careened straight into Stonebeak and the car stopped. We were directly on top of him, but he was huge. A full-grown moleman chief. 600 kilos of bone and muscle. The Saab’s wheels were in the air. He screamed as I revved the engine and the tyres burned him, then he reached through the window and tore off Molegirl’s door. As he reached inside she went to work. In a few moments she’d bitten off three of his fingers. Blood hosed around the interior. She grabbed the shotgun, leaned out and fired under the car. Stonebeak slumped. The car tipped slowly and slid down onto its side.

Molegirl’s forearm was pinned underneath the car. The Saab’s back wheels spun helplessly in the air. She smiled, then grimaced, as she used the vicious claws on her free hand to drag the car further out from Stonebeak’s corpse. The wheels bounced down onto the ground.

Her forearm was a pulp of bone and blood. Her moist pink face had turned grey. She rolled out of the car and lay on the stone driveway. I could hear the wail of guard trucks converging on us through the tunnels.

“Get back in if you want to live!” I called desperately to her. “I don’t,” she said. She reloaded Stonebeak’s mortar and fired it at his house, then again, then again. There was a rumble as the cavern collapsed but it was already in my rearview mirror. I hit the InterTunnel again, 200 kilometres an hour, up, up, always up, weaving around the patrols, untouchable, towards the surface, towards daylight, towards home. That’s how I got my Saab.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Posting Date: July 8th, 6:00 PM CT (UTC/GMT-05:00)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / College!AU / Humor / Smut (as requested in my fundraising initiative for BLM)

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Synopsis: Jeon Jungkook had messed with you for the last time. That was what you thought when the hockey team – led by the insufferable Jungkook – kicked your dance team out again from your reserved room at the gym. In retaliation, you planned a prank of epic proportions and were caught in the act by none other than Jungkook himself. Before the rift between you could grow any deeper, you accidentally overheard something you were not meant to hear. Something which overshadowed even your heated rivalry. Faced with the choice between obvious wrong and teaming up with your worst enemy – you reluctantly chose the latter. But what will you do when feelings you once thought of as hatred become something decidedly… not?

Estimated WC: 42K

Rating: 18+

Preview: 1,941

The back of Jeon Jungkook’s head was as infuriating as the rest of him.

In the last row of the classroom, you thought this to yourself while typing into your laptop. Notetaking was part of your official duties as Teacher Assistant for Professor Rosenbarr’s class. This, along with grading homework, proctoring exams, and a variety of other bitchwork.

Despite this, the job of a TA was the best-paying on campus, not to mention that Professor Rosenbarr personally wrote the recommendation which landed your upcoming summer internship. Junior year was stressful enough as it was, with everyone turning twenty-one and realizing with some shock they were halfway through University.

Only one summer remained before entering the real world – everyone you spoke to said that this summer internship was crucial. If there was a blank period between Junior and Senior year of University, you might as well type FUCKED AROUND in the blank section of your resume and be done with it. No, this TA role was worth all the bitchwork, if only because it directly led to your upcoming internship.

The presence of Jungkook in your class though, had you seriously considering the merits of quitting.

Glowering at his messy head three rows before you, you wondered if he had even bothered to shower before coming to class. Probably not, based on the state of his hair and clothes. Both were rumpled, with wrinkles permanently stamped into the fabric of his hoodie. You were so consumed by the state of his appearance that when he stretched, turning around, there was no time to look away.

Jungkook’s eyes locked with yours and he blinked, taken aback by your staring. While you watched, his gaze narrowed.

See something you like? he mouthed over the heads of the people between you.

Stomach plummeting, your gaze snapped back to the screen of your laptop. After a long moment of pause, you slowly looked up and found him still looking. Most infuriating of all was the smirk on his lips, as though you had acted exactly as he predicted.

Once again, you remembered why Jungkook was the worst. It gave him no small amount of pleasure to see you embarrassed. Just as it made your own stomach leap to see his brow furrowed with frustration, lips pressed together as he huffed in annoyance.

The two of you had been at each other’s throats since freshman year, a feud of such epic proportion, it was difficult to remember how it had begun. All you knew was that by now, too much blood had been spilled for you to ever go back. Jungkook hated you and you hated him. That much was certain.

Still looking at you, Jungkook arched a brow.

In response to this, you scowled. Pay attention, you mouthed, gesturing at the board.

Jungkook glanced over his shoulder.

Professor Rosenbarr was so absorbed in his lecture, you doubt he would have noticed if the fire alarm and sprinklers went off. There was a zone he reached while lecturing about statistical anomalies in economic theory which not even you could pull him out of.

More importantly, he definitely did not notice Jungkook’s lack of attention. A girl in the front row was buffing her nails, the guy behind her was paying a bill and the guy to his right was scrolling through Tumblr.

At least Jungkook had his notes open, even if he was not looking at the board.

Making a face in his direction, you shooed a hand forward. With a roll of his eyes, Jungkook finally got the hint and turned around to face front. Pulling his hoodie overhead, he slumped low in his seat.

Unable to stop yourself, you let out a sigh.

The girl next to you frowned. “Shh,” she said.

“Sorry,” you whispered, sinking even lower.

While stewing in your own embarrassment, a ping sounded from your laptop. Looking down, you scowled again at the familiar email address.

From: jjeon@university.edu

To: y/n@university.edu

Subject: hey TA

Aren’t you supposed to be grading us? Maybe you should pay more attention to the lecture & less to the back of my head

Fury clouding your gaze, it made it difficult to see as you typed.

From: y/n@university.edu

To: jjeon@university.edu

Subject: re: hey TA

Maybe if your head weren’t so big, I would be able to see the slides

Pressing send, you looked up and waited for him to respond. From the last row of class, you watched Jungkook open your email, snort and bend forward.

Professor Rosenbarr cleared his throat from the front of the room.

“Something amusing about economic theory, Mr. Jeon?”

Jungkook’s head snapped up; a deer caught in headlights. “Um. No, sir.”

The Professor arched a brow. “While I appreciate your formal language, perhaps you could extend the same respect to your dress code next class. Hood down,” he said, pointedly glancing at Jungkook’s large sweatshirt.

Dejectedly, Jungkook reached up to lower his hood.

Even from your seat, you could see his ears were bright red. A small pang of sympathy went through you before reminding yourself he deserved it. Jungkook should have been paying attention – just like you should have.

Bending forward, you resumed taking notes. Professor Rosenbarr continued his lecture, the class returned normalcy but still, Jungkook failed to respond to your email.

This did not surprise you. Jungkook had always been flaky – one of the many reasons you two did not get along. You preferred things orderly, with everyone following an agreed set of rules and Jungkook had his own expectations.

A message appeared in the corner of your screen. For a moment, your heart skipped and then you realized it was only your groupchat with Seokjin and Gina, your two best friends.

Seokjin: Y/N, stop ignoring meee [10:41 AM]

Gina: lol Seokjin, she’s teaching [10:41 AM]

Seokjin: she’s not the one teaching. Rosenblah is [10:41 AM]

Seokjin: Y/N, THIS IS AN EMERGENCY! [10:41 AM]

Y/N: his name is Rosenbarr, Seokjin. What’s the emergency? [10:41 AM]

Seokjin: finally [10:42 AM]

Seokjin: there’s a party this weekend. You in? [10:42 AM]

Gina: what night? [10:42 AM]

Seokjin: Saturday [10:42 AM]

Gina: okay, cool [10:42 AM]

Seokjin: why? What’re you doing Friday? [10:42 AM]

Gina: nothing [10:42 AM]

Seokjin: so, why did you – oh, never mind. Y/N, you in? [10:42 AM]

Y/N: this was the emergency? [10:42 AM]

Y/N: who’s throwing the party? [10:42 AM]

Seokjin: um. A friend [10:42 AM]

Y/N: Seokjin [10:43 AM]

Seokjin: okay, fine, the friend is Taehyung & the party is at hockey house. But Y/N, listen to me [10:43 AM]

Y/N: pass [10:43 AM]

Gina: lol Seokjin, you had to have known that would fail [10:43 AM]

Seokjin: I was hoping that by Junior year, we would have all become rational and mature human beings [10:44 AM]

Seokjin: aka, this feud you have with Jungkook is stupid, Y/N [10:44 AM]

Gina: *gasps* he said the name! [10:44 AM]

Gina: a plague upon your house, Seokjin! [10:44 AM]

Y/N: listen. While yes, I am a rational and mature human being [10:44 AM]

Y/N: his royal douchebaggery is not [10:44 AM]

Y/N: ergo, your wish was doomed to fail, Seokjin [10:44 AM]

Seokjin: sigh [10:44 AM]

Seokjin: well, do you at least want to get pizza with Gina and I after? [10:44 AM]

Y/N: that, I can do [10:45 AM]

Seokjin: okay, fine. It’s a plan [10:45 AM]

“We’ll pick up at the same place on Wednesday,” said Professor Rosenbarr, interrupting your train of thought. Head jerking up, your fingers fell from the keys. “Please read Chapter 4 of the textbook before then and complete the assignment online.”

As soon as he stopped, the class began to pack up, shoving books into backpacks and standing from their seats.

Rereading your notes, you struggled to recall who had last asked a question. Professor Rosenbarr liked to have that information to grant class participation points, but the conversation with Jungkook had thrown you off your game.

Before you could ask someone around you, a shadow fell over your desk. Looking up, you found Jungkook in the aisle, thumbs hooked lazily beneath the straps of his backpack.

Frowning, you glanced past. “You’re blocking the aisle,” you announced, shutting your laptop. Shoving this in your bag, you attempted to stand and found him still standing there. “Not to mention my way out of class.”

“Just came to see if you needed my notes,” Jungkook said, nonchalant. “You seemed pretty distracted.”

Glancing at him, you scowled. “I’m the TA here, not you, Jeon.”

“I know.” His smile widened and you repressed the sudden desire to smack it from his face. “Doesn’t change the fact that you were staring at me.”

“The only reason I was staring at you was because you look like you haven’t showered in days. Is the hockey team really that hard-up for wins? Resorted to repulsing the competition?”

Instantly, his smile disappeared.

Jungkook had recently been made Captain of the University hockey team and it was an endless source of gossip on campus, since usually only Seniors held the coveted title. Word on the street was Jungkook was just that good – or, the hockey team was that bad.

“I showered after practice,” he said, a bit sulky. “And we’re not that bad this year.”

Despite his words, the furrow between his brow deepened and Jungkook aimlessly shoved a hand through his hair. His fingers instantly became tangled, fighting a minute before he worked through.

Staring at him for a moment, you eventually blinked and tore free.

“Whatever,” you said, glancing past him. “Let me leave.”

Professor Rosenbarr was long gone, but he would expect your notes in his office by the end of day. You still needed to format them the way that he preferred, review them for errors and find the name of the last person who spoke.

Jungkook stepped aside and, pushing past him, you entered the aisle. As you climbed the steps, you heard him follow suit. The impending deadline began to weigh on you and – against all better judgement – you turned around.

“Hey,” you exhaled, coming to a stop on the last step.

Jungkook looked up. “What?”

“Did you… hear who asked the last question in class?”

Surprise flickered over his features, though he quickly composed them. “Uh, it was Nelson.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

You lingered for a moment, then turned around and left the room. Shoving open the door to the hall, you did not bother to wait for him to exit. Disappearing into the crowd, you kept your head low and placed distance between you. He had been startled into being nice to you, but you knew from experience this would not last for long.

Jungkook always found a way to have the last word.

Your theory was proven as soon as you entered the quad, phone dinging loudly to announce a new email. Sliding open the app, you finally found his response to your message.

From: jjeon@university.edu

To: y/n@university.edu

Subject: re: re: hey TA

If you’re still wondering how clean my body is, feel free inspect it yourself. Hate to leave that kind of doubt on your conscience xx

Swallowing, your fingers hovered over the delete button before you gave up and shoved your phone in your pocket. You would not allow Jungkook to get under your skin so easily.

Such a feat was easier said than done, however. Jungkook had nearly two years of practice at pushing your buttons. By this point, you thought he might know your ticks better than your best friends. All it took was a well-placed wink from him to make your blood boil.

Still – you would figure out a way to get Jungkook back. You always did.

After all, you had two years of experience at pressing his buttons as well.

[ TO BE CONTINUED ]

Follow my writing / editing process on my Updates Schedule 

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[lizzielikeborden]

Monroe (1)

Summary: Takes place after the third season (just because I need to work with completely uncharted territory and do not wanna deal with the Sparrow Academy or any of season 2′s craziness). So the Umbrella Academy comes back home again, this time dear old Reginald Hargreeves is dead and all seems well and normal. To make sure the timeline is correct the boys are going through Reginald’s office where he kept all of his important business. That is where Klaus finds something particular...

Authors Note: No one requested this, I just wanted to get creative and I have been thinking on this and really wanna do it PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU WANT ON THE TAGLIST!

Taglist: @little-boats-on-a-lake​

When they say it only takes one time they mean that. In no way shape or form were you a heavy drinker or drug user. But it was your birthday, and your friends wanted to take you out on a fun night. Of course they couldn’t pick a regular little bar, they decided on some crazy rave spot that was technically illegal. 

“Come on it’ll be a great time, you’ve barely even been to a bar. This is gonna be a once in a lifetime experience.” Y/F/N1 chased you around your little apartment as you refused to get ready. 

“Oh it’ll be once in a lifetime alright, she will never go back.” Y/F/N2 commented as she walked into the room putting bracelets up her arm.

“Yknow we are trying to convince her to go, not convince her to never hang out with us again.” Y/F/N1 smacked Y/F/N2 on the arm lightly. 

“Wait, I like her point. Lets make a deal. If I go tonight promise me I will never have to any crazy shit ever again.” You turned to face them both with a light smile and one eyebrow slightly raised. 

They turned to look at each other and then back at you. Clearly they would do anything to get you out of the house and out to their little rave because they both agreed to the deal. Not really knowing how to get ready the girls dragged you into your bedroom. The two of them dug through all your drawers that were full of random clothes that were not fit for the occasion. 

“You are not giving us much to work with.” Y/F/N1 stated as she began going through the closet. 

“Wait I’ve found something we can use.” She took a small black sparkly bra out of your underwear drawer. 

“Excuse me but that is not clothes that is a bra. I cannot just go outside with a bra on.” You told Y/F/N1 as she held it up to your chest. She was laughing at you for what you had said. 

“We can stop by my place and a mesh top to put over it.” Y/F/N2 spoke up as she held some little black shorts in her hand. 

Before you could ever protest what was going on you were being dragged out the door. You stumbled around quickly, neither girl was allowing you to slow down or think. They knew that you’d change your mind or simply get out of going. You got in the passenger side of the car and buckled your seatbelt. You could barely shut the door and get it together before Y/F/N2 hit the gas. You were driving so fast with a lead foot that you were almost positive the car was going to get pulled over. You wished it would’ve because the closer you got to having to wear a bra and shorts in crowded public the place the more anxiety bubbled in your stomach. The car parked in a made up parking place considering how outside the lines it was. 

“I’ll be right back.” Y/F/N2 ran out and locked the car. She was quickly in and out. When she stepped back in the car from getting the mesh top she threw it at you. 

“NO. No wat am I wearing this.” You looked at the mesh shirt, it wasn’t even really mesh. It was just see-through, you could clearly see the fact that your bra was going to be seen vibrantly. 

“Oh cmon, one night and never again. We have a deal.” Y/F/N1 patted you on the shoulder from the back seat of the car. She was topless and changing in the car. 

You took in a deep breath realizing that your options to change were in a dirty restroom or the front of a moving vehicle. So, you changed into the incredibly revealing outfit and your friends began to hype you up. When you pulled up to wherever this odd location was and saw some of the most creative looking people. Y/F/N2 changed outside the car without a care in the world. You knew your friends were wild but this wild. No way. Y/F/N1 grabbed your hand noticing the deer in the headlights look you had plastered on your face. She and Y/F/N2 led you to the door and you walked down the dirty stairs with walls covered in graffiti. 

“Here we are.” Y/F/N2 screamed as she opened the door. The music that blasted through the room was incredibly loud. Smoke, blinding lights, and more loud noises completely filled the room. You realized that you could barely even see anyone, so no one would notice you or what you were wearing. Your nerves let go a bit, but still not much. Your friends got drinks and brought them over, the three of you were drinking a lot. You did it for nerves, they did it for fun. Eventually all three of you were drunk, separated and drunk. You of course were stumbling around, not as used to being drunk as the other two girls. And you tripped around and fell into a complete stranger. A beautiful stranger that you would not remember, and you spent the remainder of the time with him until your friends were ready to go. You remember having lovely conversations and dancing together a bit. You also remember the way he was and how wild yet caring he was.  Anything other than that was a complete mystery...

“So you really think we did it this time?” Luther spoke up holding a box full of books in his hands. They were from his fathers office that he, Diego, and Klaus were searching through while the others ran around making sure everywhere else was normal.

“So far everything seems normal, but we haven’t seen enough or done much else. Then again we’re the morons apparently so we wouldn’t know even if we did look.” Diego threw an empty bag across the room, moving around some of the belongings that were from his fathers childhood.

“Oh dear old dad is still just as boring dead as he was alive.” Klaus sat with his legs and feet propped up on the desk as he looked through a box of fly papers that took him forever to get the small lock off of. 

“You can say that again.” Diego agreed with his brother as he too continued to go through small chests and boxes that had been left around the room.

The three boys continued to through papers, files, boxes, bags, and other weird little contraptions. All boring, mostly of friends he had, deals he had made, knick-knacks from being alive so long, projects he never got to finish, diaries of so many different genres, and receipts for literally everything. That was until Klaus came across a file with his name printed on it in bold. 

“Hey look dad was keeping tabs on you.” Luther stood behind him and read the date on the file, seeing it wasn’t from his childhood and was from his adulthood. 

“Probably just some rehab file he kept to hate me and call me a disappointment for.” Klaus opened it and saw his picture, it was a stapled multi piece of information. The longer he read on the more he noticed it had nothing to do with drugs. It was simply just his DNA and medical things along those lines. Then he turned the page, and his eyes popped out of his head. He read the word “Monroe” and right next to it were multiple pictures of a little girl. Not a very old one at that, all of these were baby pictures. Nervously he read on more and more, he flipped back and forth between the two pages seeing that their were multiple, hell more than multiple similarities. It took a few more minutes but he finally realized that was his kid...

[slasher-sloot]

(requested) Party Blues | Billy Loomis

originally i posted this on wattpad under the user @/slashersloot where you can request. this imagine belongs to me aside from the character billy.

PARTY BLUES | BILLY LOOMIS

MY JAW WAS tense as I watched the girls flirt with my boyfriend who was basking in the attention. He went to get me a drink and had been gone for a while. My boyfriend was hot which sometimes really sucks.

I thought he got caught up with Stu, not other girls. He had two solo cups in his hand and the girl he was talking to grabbed the one meant for me. He went to protest, but she had already taken a big sip out of it. She gave him a sultry look as I stormed over and went into the kitchen. I snatched a pair of scissors before walking upstairs to her bedroom, everyone ignoring me.

It was unlocked and perfectly messy for me. I shut the door behind me before beginning to cut up all of her shirts. I cut the neck into a deep V and cut circles where her nipples would be. Then I cut up the sides as well.

Once I was satisfied with doing almost half her closet and then hiding the rest, I pocketed the scissors and went downstairs. She still had the cup in her hand and flirted with Billy who still didn't notice that I wasn't there. Without the both of them noticing, I tipped the cup back as she went to take a drink.

It spilled over her white dress instantly staining it. A satisfied smirk left my lips as I heard her shriek as I went into the kitchen and replaced the scissors before grabbing my own drink.

The host of the party was still freaking out as Billy stood there in shock while I slipped into the crowd of dancing teens. I could see the cocky smirk on his face as she tried to clean it off with a bottle of water, which only made it worse.

She grabbed his hand and began to pull him upstairs and that's when I finally saw him resist. The heavy feeling over my chest lifted as he shook his head. He may be a flirt, but at least he wasn't a cheater.

She huffed and stormed upstairs to change as I watched his eyes search the crowd for me. I let the alcohol burn down my throat as the girl I was dancing with grabbed my hips to spin me around.

A loud laugh left my lips as I dropped the cup, the contents spilling everywhere. Two arms wrapped themselves around my waist making me squeal.

He twirled me around and I was met with the beautiful sight of my boyfriend. I was still a bit mad at him, but I still accepted the kiss he planted on my lips.

Billy was a flirt and that would never change and I was fine with it as long as he didn't actually do anything.  He still had a cocky grin on his face that made me want to slap it.

"So you saw?"

I hummed before pinching his side lightly. He groaned lightly but still kissed me anyway. "I hate you."

"No, you don't, darling."

A loud scream pierced through the air making someone cut off the music. We all stared at the stairs as the blonde host ran down the stairs. She had shirts clutched in her hands and her face flush with anger.

"Who did this?" she screamed out, her words slurring together with rage. Billy slowly turned to look at me with a goofy expression, but I ignored him and played with the collar of his shirt. "This isn't funny! These clothes are expensive!"

"Maybe you should have locked your door!" Someone shouted earning a bunch of laughter.

Her face turned a bright red before she began shouting for everyone to get out of the house. The crowd began running out booing at the fact that the party ended earlier than expected. Someone shouted that they were going to take the party to their house.

Billy wrapped his arms around my waist and led me to the car forming a frown on my face. I didn't want to go and party anymore. I just wanted to go home and cuddle with my boyfriend. He shut the door for me before twirling his keys around his finger as he walked to the driver's side.

A sigh left my lips as he started the car and flicked on the headlights. He began to drive, putting his hand on my thigh and squeezing it lightly. I placed a hand over it and rubbed my thumb into circles.

He gave me another soft squeeze as he turned away from the trial of partygoers. "Where are we going?" I questioned giving him a look.

In response, I only got a wink.

We pulled up to his house making me slump in relief. After we stepped out of the car he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the dark house.

"Go change," he said before pressing a kiss to my cheek.

I grabbed his favorite pair of sweatpants and one of his horror movie shirts before making my way downstairs. He tackled me onto the couch before beginning to tickle me.

"You're hot when you're jealous," he said, propping his arms against my body making me roll my eyes. He dropped his head to my neck and nuzzled his nose there before pressing a soft kiss to the skin.

"I wasn't jealous," I huffed earning a slight eye roll.

"You literally cut up her entire wardrobe."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "And you killed the last guy who tried to flirt with me."

I tried to push his chest as he stuck his tongue out at me, but my efforts were futile as he pressed another kiss to my neck. We both shared a laugh, a warmth spreading through my chest.

"I love you."

We both froze at the words that left his lips, neither of us expecting to say it. Two years we have been together, but we both obviously haven't said it yet. While I knew I loved him, but I wasn't sure about his feelings.

His face contorted into a scared look before my lips curled into a smile. I pressed a kiss to his nose and wrapped my arms around his neck.

"I love you too."

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch41: Drops Of Jupiter Part 2- There’s Still A Life To Live. 

Intro: Pepper finally makes an honest man of Tony, and as the sun sets on, quite possibly, the most horrific year of their lives, the New Year brings a familiar face back into Steve and Katie’s life.

But Tony has some news that puts a smile on his sister’s face. If only her husband was as happy…

Warnings: Bad Language words. Brief mentions of Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: @angrybirdcr​ I LOVE YOU

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 41 Part 1

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

October 2018

Despite Katie’s protestations to the contrary, Steve refused to believe that Tony and Pepper actually wanted him at their wedding. She had tried in vain to convince him to go but at times like this he was so stubborn and, ironically, the only man on the planet that could rival him for pig-headedness was Tony himself. So now she was doubly pissed at him. He knew that, and if he hadn’t already he would have certainly guessed it by the way she was currently throwing things into her bag after hardly speaking a word to him since the previous night.

FRIDAY informed her that Happy was here to collect her and Katie closed her small carry case. Steve sighed and went to pick it up for her, fully intending on carrying it to the car, but she beat him to it, swatting his hand away.

“I got it, its fine.” she said a little curtly as she did up her jacket. “Baby, c’mon, don’t leave on a bad note.” He pleaded, following her into the living area. “You know I get that you might think Tony doesn’t want you there, but I do.” Katie’s voice was quiet as she levelled him with a look. “And I was kinda hoping that would be enough to make you swallow your pride for once in your God-damned life” His face fell and the expression on it almost made her relent and apologise. 

Almost.

But the Stark stubbornness in her won out and she simply left it at that, slamming the door behind her. 

Steve felt like shit. Absolute shit as he stared at the place his wife had been stood a few moments before, the noise of the door banging shut still echoed round his head. With a sigh he swiped at his face with his hands before he headed into the bedroom, changed and wandered down to the gym to work off some frustration.

****

Katie glanced at her reflection. The bridesmaid dress she was wearing was an Alexander McQueen, as was Pepper’s dress, her favourite designer who hadn’t been dusted. It was a deep, burnt gold, almost brown to look at with a hint of a shimmer, perfect Autumn colours. The dress was plain, with a sweetheart neckline, the bodice drawing in her waist and the skirt was floor length, with a slight flare to it.  Her hair was twisted up and she wore a white gold headband which was studded with diamonds and pearls, her mom’s necklace that Tony had given to her on her wedding day sat flush to her collar bone. But all that aside, what she really loved was her make-up. It was all autumnal colours, eyes lidded under a burnt orange which had a slight golden shimmer to it setting off her green and amber eyes to perfection, and the contouring was amazing. 

Smoothing down her skirt once more, she looked down and stepped into her gold Jimmy Choo heels and stilled as a familiar voice spoke.

“You look beautiful.”

Her head shot up and Steve’s eyes locked onto hers in the mirror before she spun round to face him stood in the doorway.

“I thought you weren’t coming?” She frowned.

“I wasn’t.” He said shyly, stepping into the room “But, after you left yesterday I thought about what you said and you’re right. So I spoke to Pepper and well, here I am.” Katie looked him up and down. He was dressed in his blue suit and underneath it he wore a light green shirt complimented by a tie more or less the same colour as her dress, along with his shiny dark brown oxfords. Exactly the outfit she’d picked for him and left at the front of the closet just in case. With his hair immaculately styled, short stubble impeccably trimmed and a nervous smile on his face, he looked absolutely gorgeous.

“I’m so glad you came.” She smiled, all anger forgotten as she stepped forward and he met her halfway.

“I hate it when we fight.” He muttered, gently kissing her, his strong hands on her back, pulling her to him. “I’m sorry, Doll.”

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.” A familiar voice drawled and the pair of them turned to see Natasha leaning in the doorway, two flutes of champagne in her hand. She looked stunning in a knee length figure hugging bottle green dress.

“You look great Nat.” Steve offered, surprised to see a faint tinge of red flushing up the blonde’s neck and cheeks as she uttered a soft thanks before she looked at Katie.

“Came to let you know that Tony’s here.” 

Steve took a deep breath.

“Right, erm…” Katie tugged on Steve’s hand and took a glass of champagne off Nat. “Come on.” “Where are we going?” Steve frowned. “To see my brother, the pair of you need to get this out of the way before the ceremony.” “Baby, I-” “Don’t argue with me Steven.” she retorted, leading him down the stairs and out into the Autumn sunshine, across the lawn which was sporting a banquet tent and down the small path which had been lined with a gold carpet. Tony was stood at the end, under the arch which led into the tent where the reception would be held, directing people. As the Weather was nice, the actual ceremony was going to take place at the end of the wooden jetty. People were already settling on chairs on the banks of the lake.

Steve felt, and looked, like a deer in headlights when he caught sight of Tony. Katie squeezed his hand and whispered for him to relax as Tony, who had seen them approaching, started striding over to meet them.

“Well, don’t you look handsome?” Katie said to him, taking in his dark grey formal tail suit, ivory patterned waistcoat and ivory ruffled tie.

“Errm, shouldn’t you be with Pepper?” Tony asked, dropping a kiss to his sister’s cheek. “You look beautiful by the way.” “Thanks. Your gorgeous bride is just having her hair finished off and then I’m going to get her in her dress, but I wanted to come and see you first, we both did.”

“It’s a err, beautiful house.” Steve cleared his throat as he spoke and looked around. He’d never been before, and he felt ridiculously uncomfortable right at that moment for being a complete jerk. He should have done this months ago. "Well, it’s a bit like you Cap.” Tony replied, his eyes locking onto his brother-in-law’s. “Ancient, but nothing a little modernisation couldn’t fix.”

Steve let out a chuckle and took a deep breath. “Tony, listen, I want to apologize. For everything.” He swallowed a little before he continued.“What went down in Siberia was, well it was harsh, and I was out of order. I should have told you about your parents. I’m sorry, I really am.”

Katie held her breath, she knew how much that would have taken for Steve to apologise, so heartfelt as well and she knew he wasn’t doing it just for her. As she stood watching, she saw Tony bristle and she stiffened slightly.

“You should be.” Tony sniffed, but just as Katie was about to chastise him she saw his face soften, “But all that’s in the past now. You know, I get that Barnes wasn’t in control of his actions but I still can’t-” he stopped himself and took another deep breath ”Look, it doesn’t matter now, so let’s just say I understand why you did what you did even if I don’t agree with it. And I’m sorry too, Cap.”

Steve took a deep breath and gave a small smile. “I missed you Tony.”

“Yeah, well, that goes without saying because I’m so incredibly missable” Tony shrugged before he smiled “I missed you too, buddy.”

The two men shook hands before Tony gave a small huff and pulled Steve into a slightly awkward embrace, the two men clapping one another on the back.

Steve felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. As much as he had tried to deny it, Tony was like a brother to him and he had missed him. Plus, he knew how much it had hurt Katie them both being at odds. And he just wanted his wife to be happy and to move forward, past what had happened. As he looked over Tony’s shoulder he saw Katie watching them both, her eyes shining and she mouthed a thank you to him before she cleared her throat.

“Right, now that’s done can I leave him with you whilst I go do Bridesmaid stuff?” She spoke with a smile on her face that her two best boys were finally over their spat.

“Yeah, go ahead, in fact, I have just the job for you,Spangles.” Tony nodded, and the two men strode off, Tony’s hand in between Steve’s shoulder blades as they walked. Steve looked back at his wife as she strode across the lawns to the house before he turned his attention to Tony as they headed towards the lake.

*****

The wedding was beautiful. And whilst he really should have been thinking this about the bride, Steve seriously thought his wife was the most stunning woman there. As she walked down the aisle first, arm linked through Rhodey’s she caught Steve’s eye from where he was sat in between Banner and Natasha and he smiled at her, a genuine smile which she returned. When it was time for Pepper’s entrance, Steve glanced at Tony and couldn’t recall a time where he’d seen the man so happy, so emotional. 

The small ceremony was conducted, and it was time for Steve to perform the task Tony had given to him-signing the witness register along with Happy. It was a small gesture, but one which meant a great deal to the Captain.

Then, the rest of the afternoon passed in a bustle of photos, drink, food and speeches. Tony’s was slightly self-indulgent, as always, before he gushed about his new wife. Rhodey told plenty of stories about them growing up, and then it was Katie’s turn.

“As all of you here know, Tony brought me up from the age of seven.” Katie cleared her throat, glancing round at the various faces in the room. “Our parents died and suddenly there he is, twenty-one years old with a business to run and a pain in the ass kid sister to look after.” She scratched at her head. “My childhood was happy, I wanted for nothing, and that was all down to you.” She locked eyes with her brother. “Tony, I don’t tell you this enough, but I really am grateful for everything you did and everything you gave to me, least of all the absolute, unconditional love I have always felt from you. I know we have had our differences but you always told me that you could never be prouder of me if you tried, and I want you to know, that the feeling is mutual. I love you, not just as my brother, but as the best substitute father I could have wished for. And it makes me so happy to see you here today, after everything, with the woman that finally made an honest man out of you.” A few more chuckles, but Tony’s eyes were now wet with tears as he glanced up at her.

“Pepper has been a big part of my life for almost twenty years now, and I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d be happier with as a sister-in-law. But, you do know what you’ve let yourself in for right?”

Pepper laughed and nodded.

“Good, because he’s your problem now, good luck!”

Katie sat down as the room erupted into laughs and Steve pressed a soft kiss to her lips, gently wiping at her tears before they could ruin her make up.

As the night closed in, the Marquee was strung up with lights and wooden benches giving the place a warm, welcoming ambient feel. Far too soon for Katie’s liking it was time for the first dance. Tony clearly hadn’t told anyone she was performing as many puzzled faces peered up at her as she took the microphone in her hand and cleared her throat with a nod to the keyboard player who struck up the opening notes to Eta James “At Last.”

Tony’s face split into a grin as he offered Pepper his hand and the new Mr and Mrs Stark took to the dance floor, applause and camera flashes filled the tent as Katie sang, watching her brother and his new wife dance closely. In turn, Steve watched his wife, her voice s powerful and sultry, her eyes shining softly as she was watching Tony and Pepper revolve on the dancefloor. And then, as customary, people began to join them and Steve turned to Nat.

“May I have this dance ma’am?”

Natasha studied him for a moment before she smiled and slipped her hand into his, where he took her into a polite hold and steered them around the dancefloor, catching Katie’s eye causing her to smile.

When the song finished everyone turned to her and she flushed a little, giving a shy smile before she cleared her throat. “I’ve got one more.”

Tony frowned as he looked at Pepper who met him with an equally puzzled look, but when the band started to play, Tony’s face slid into a huge smile as Katie winked at him, before she once more began to sing.

“Now that she’s back in the atmosphere, with drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey…”

As she continued through the verse, Tony looked up at her, his eyes shining as he tossed his arm over Pepper’s shoulders, everyone in the tent gently swaying along to the song, and when the upbeat part kicked in, everyone hit the dance floor again.

Katie was now completely lost in the song that her and her brother had sung together so many times. She allowed the memories to wash over her as she sang, suddenly back in his convertible mustang cruising over the Golden Gate Bridge, then again dancing round in shorts and a bikini by the pool, then she was back in the kitchen, both of them holding wooden spoons to their mouths as make-believe mics. She sang out note after note and as she launched into the final chorus. Tony, who knew the song was coming to a big crescendo had stopped dancing to start winding the crowd up as she belted out the last bit of the song, eyes closed as she dipped slightly, hand extended by her side.

And now you’re lonely looking for yourself out there

The marquee erupted into a cheer and Katie smiled to herself, handing the mic back to the singer of the band who thanked her, drawing another cheer from the crowd. Steve walked forward and offered his hand to his wife to help her walk down the small steps from the stage.

“You amaze me every single day you know that?” His lips brushed her ear as the band struck up into a soul song and he led her towards the bar for a drink. She beamed at him, cheeks flushing from the singing and the adrenaline that had been pulsing through her veins at the fact she’d been stood on a stage, singing in front of a group of people for the first time since she could remember. He dropped a kiss to her cheek and she moved her head to catch his lips softly.

“Kiddo?”

At that she spun to face Tony, who didn’t say another word, simply pulled her into his arms and squeezed her tight, kissing the side of her head. She held him back, happily resting her head against his shoulder until he eventually released her, and then turned to head off over the dance floor to greet someone else.

“I saw you dancing with Nat.” Katie slid her hands up Steve’s chest as he ordered a beer and a gin and tonic, his jacket and tie now discarded on one of the chairs behind him.

“Jealous?” He arched an eyebrow, his hand settling on her hips.

“Not in the slightest.” Her hands connecting round his neck. “I thought it was one of the sweetest things you could have done. She’s been so down lately.” “She seems okay tonight.” Steve turned, watching the woman in question as she stood talking to Bruce. “Maybe she just needed reminding that there’s still life to be lived.” “That’s very philosophical of you, Captain.”

“I have my moments.” He grinned, looking back down at Katie, his hand on her hip pulling her closer. “Are you still staying here tonight or coming home?” “Undecided.” She teased, her hands resting on his chest, muscles broad and tense under her fingers.

“Well if you come back with me I’ll do that thing you like.”  His short beard scratched her cheek as he spoke softly into her ear.

“That’s blackmail.” 

Smirking, he kissed her softly. “I know.”

She did go home with him, and Steve was about as gentle and tender that night as she could ever remember him being. His lips were soft as he made sure to cherish every single part of her body. His hips rolled against hers, keeping them locked together, hands entwined together as he gently pinned them at either side of her head, eyes locked onto hers as he took her apart, piece by piece.

They lay there afterwards, Katie’s head resting in its favourite place on his chest, his hand gently running up and down her spine as she slept. Resting his head against hers, he closed his eyes on what had been a pretty amazing day in all honestly. He and Tony were back on an even keel, and being surrounded by people at the wedding, he couldn’t help but marvel at the love, friendship and happiness that had been present at the event. 

He hadn’t ever thought he’d see it again on that scale after the snap, and it gave him faith that, just like he had said earlier, there was still a good life to be lived.

*******

January 2019.

Steve pulled his jacket collar up against the snow and trudged across the car park towards the store entrance. A soft, white blanket covered the cars that lay abandoned after the snap, something he knew that the Government was going to have to sort at some point. Heading into the shop, he noted that it was reasonably busy compared to how it had been the last time he’d popped in a few weeks ago. He supposed that was a good sign. Grabbing a basket he headed straight for what they needed- milk, eggs, bread, bacon, fabric softener and tampons. Okay, so the last weren’t what they needed, obviously, more what Katie needed. She’d laughed when she had given him the list, remarking that this was the first time she’d ever sent him shopping for shit like this before offering to go instead, but he was a modern man now, they’d been together for almost six years, married for over three, he could deal with buying his wife tampons, right?

Now he was making a mental note, as some woman was slyly eyeing him as he grabbed a box, to remind his wife it’s a fucking good job he loves her as much as he does.

He whizzed around picking up the rest of the stuff and was heading to the till when he heard a loud shout. Spinning round on autopilot he saw one of the security guards chasing someone, a kid dressed in a pair of dirty jeans, a jacket that was far too thin for the weather, and a baseball cap, down the aisle. Steve let out a sigh. Shoplifting and petty crime had rocketed as people struggled to make ends meet following The Decimation. As the kid neared him he gently held out an arm to stop them passing and the child, a girl, gave a loud yell and looked up at him angrily. 

Instantly his heart leapt into his throat. Granted, it was a few years since he had seen her at the last Stark Christmas Party, but he’d recognise those large, deep brown eyes anywhere.

“Gerrroffff me!”

“Emmy?” He frowned, and she paused her struggling to look up at him and he removed his hat. “It’s me. Steve.” “I know you are.” She blinked, and then began to struggle again.

“Stop it.” He instructed, voice full of authority and he turned to the security guard. “What’s the problem here?” 

“Caught her down the aisle back there, shoving packs of chocolate and chips into her backpack.”

“Has she actually committed a crime yet?” Steve asked. “I mean, nothing has left the store. If I pay for it…” “No but she was gonna!” “But she hasn’t actually?” The security guard let out a groan. “Look pal, you’ve no idea what it’s like trying to keep this place straight.” “Oh believe me Sir, I do.” Steve mumbled, before he glanced down at Emmy. She was small, her dark, ebony hair was dirty and knotted, and her olive-skinned cheeks were pinched like she needed a good meal. He looked up at the man. “I’ll pay for the items and then ensure she’s dealt with.” “Dealt with?” The Security guard frowned before he looked at Steve properly and then his eyes widened “Holy shit, you’re Captain-” Steve cut him off, holding his hand up. “I assume that’s an acceptable proposition?”

“Of course Captain Rogers.” He nodded. Steve shook the man’s hand and then turned to Emmy.

“Give me the bag.”

She looked up at him before she sighed, handing it over. Steve tipped it out onto the conveyor belt at the till. A few bars of Hershey, some kettle chips, toothpaste, soap.

“Have you been on your own since, well, since it happened?” He asked and Emmy shrugged.

“Foster parents both dusted. Not that I care like, they were horrible. Better on my own.” Steve stiffened slight as he handed over some cash to the assistant. He studied Emmy as she packed her things into her bag. He couldn’t leave her like this.

“No one’s better on their own.” He shook his head. “Listen, I’ll give you two choices. You either come back to the compound with me for something decent to eat, or I can take you to one of the shelters.” “And if I refuse to do either?”

“Okay, three options.” Steve raised an eyebrow at her sass. “I turn you back over to Mall Cop over there and you can be handed into the police.”

Emmy snorted at his film reference before she looked down and plucked at something on her coat. “Is Katie…” “Yeah, she’s there.”

“Suppose coming to see her wouldn’t be so bad.” The small girl shrugged. Steve smiled, picked up the bag of groceries and gently went to place a hand between her shoulder blades, to steer her towards the car, but he stopped dead when she flinched violently to his touch.

“Hey, its okay.” he said gently. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

She looked at him, with an expression that made her look far older than her years and rolled her eyes whilst giving a snort. “Yeah, that’s what they all say.”

*****

Lucky alerted Katie to Steve’s return home as he shot off the couch next to her and headed to the door before it even opened. Katie glanced over the back of the sofa and did a double take as Steve headed in with a familiar face in tow.

“Emmy?” She gasped, getting up off the sofa. The girl smiled a little and allowed Katie to pull her into a hug “What are you doing here?” “He kidnapped me.” Emmy glowered at Steve who rolled his eyes as she stood up from where he had crouched down to greet Lucky.

“That’s crap Emmy and you know it.” He said sternly as he turned to Katie. “She was stealing.”

“Don’t look at me like that, it was that or starve.” Emmy shrugged.

“Starve? What? Wait, have you been-” Katie let out a groan as she realised the implications of what the kid was saying. “Oh, honey you should have found someone, got help!” “Better on my own.” Emmy repeated her earlier sentiment, kicking the floor with her dirty trainers. “And you can’t keep me here ya’ know?”

Katie looked down at the girl. She would be ten now, but she looked a lot smaller than she should be for her age. Katie glanced up at Steve who nodded to the kitchen.

“Listen, I was gonna cook dinner so at least stay for some food?” She asked. Emmy shrugged.

“Suppose so, what we having?”

“Pot roast.”

“Got any mash?” The girl’s eyes lit up and for a brief second Katie saw the cheeky little kid she had last seen a few years back.

“I can do mash.”

“Okay I’ll stay.” Emmy agreed before she looked at them both, a little sheepishly “Could I have some hot chocolate, like they used to do at the parties, please?”

“Sure I can manage that.” Katie smiled.

After settling her on the sofa, Lucky jumping up beside her, Katie retreated into the kitchen and gently shut the door before she set about making Emmy the hot chocolate she had requested.

“What happened?” Katie looked at Steve who sighed, crossing his arm.

“The Security guard at the store was chasing her after he caught her stealing.” Steve shook his head “She’s been on her own since the snap, said her foster family all disappeared.” “Shit.” Katie sighed stirring the cocoa powder and a square of chocolate into the hot milk.

“Yeah but,” Steve gently moved to hand Katie the marshmallows out of the cupboard, “she said something odd, about her being better on her own and she practically jumped out of her skin when I touched her. When I told her I wasn’t gonna hurt her, she said ‘that’s what they all say’”

Katie’s hand slipped at little as she contemplated Steve’s words, and she reached for a cloth to wipe up the liquid she had spilt. “You don’t think…” “I don’t know.” Steve sighed “But I couldn’t just leave her.” “No, course not.” Katie shook her head, reaching up to touch his face. “Just one of the many things I love about you, Rogers.”

He gave a soft smile. “I thought maybe we could give her a good meal, get her cleaned up and she could stay here tonight whilst we can figure out what to do.” Steve shrugged. His wife smiled at him, and grabbing the mug, she stood on her toes and gave him a kiss.

“You know,” she said, opening the door to the kitchen, “you might not be Captain America anymore but you’re still a hero.”

The three ate dinner and then Katie convinced Emmy to have a shower and, after digging her out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, settled her down in the spare room, promising her that neither of them were mad at her. Once she was convinced the eleven year old was asleep she dumped Emmy’s disgusting clothes in the washing machine, before she headed into the living room and snuggled down next to Steve who had poured her a glass of wine.

“She okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. Out like a light.” Katie sighed “I’m so glad you found her.”

Steve sighed a little. “She looked so lost. I can’t believe she’s been on her own for so long.” “Yeah well not anymore.” Katie scratched at her nose. “This is exactly why we need to sort those homes out. I mean there are hundreds of kids out there like that.” Steve nodded and took a long pull from his beer.

“Just seems so shitty.” Katie carried on “That she’s had two foster homes now and, ok, the last one doesn’t sound like it was so great, but we’re gonna shove her back in a home and…” She trailed off, tears in her eyes. “She deserves so much better, they all do.”

“Well,” Steve turned his head to look at her. “I’m sure you’ll make sure she has a good place for when she has to leave.” Katie stayed silent for a moment, before she took a deep breath and decide to just go for it and voice what was on her mind. “What if she doesn’t?” 

“Doesn’t what?”

“Leave”

“What, you mean, she stays here?”

“Would that be so bad?” Katie asked, “I just, I dunno, Steve, I can’t…” She trailed off, simply looking at him, a hopeful expression on her face that made Steve want to kiss the life out of her. He knew she loved the little girl, she’d always had a soft spot for her. And would fostering a kid for the time being be such a bad idea? It would mean changes, a lot of changes and they would be inheriting an eleven year old, with an attitude to boot. But, they had the room and Natasha was always on hand as well…

Maybe this was just another little way they could give something back.

“Why don’t we ask her tomorrow?” Steve suggested. “If she wants to stay then maybe we can look at it, at least until something else turns up.” “You mean that?” Katie looked up at him and he nodded.

“Yeah.” 

With a teary smile she shifted so she knelt up and reached to gently cup his jawline with her fingers.

“Thank you.” she kissed him softly.

***** Of course Emmy wanted to stay. And, after a fortnight of her being at the compound, Katie and Steve made the enquiry into fostering her on a more official basis, which was easier than it would have been pre-snap, officials keen to rehouse children with people that were willing to take them in. 

The first month was full of teething problems. Emmy had refused to go back to the house she had been living in, screaming blue murder when Steve had suggested they collect her things. So Katie had taken her out shopping for clothes and bits and pieces that she needed. Then she had refused to try anything on in the changing rooms. Ever patient, and recognising the signs of trauma and panic, Katie had calmed her down and told her they would simply take the clothes home to try on there, and that it wasn’t a big deal.

It transpired, after a tearful confession later in her room, Emmy was simply frightened that they would see the marks on her back left by the belt her foster father had hit her with and she had broken down, Katie simply laying with her until she fell asleep. 

The girl also had nightmares, and would often wake up screaming, but wouldn’t let Steve anywhere near her to comfort her. He didn’t take it personally, not after he knew what she had gone through with her foster father, but it did upset him somewhat to think that she could be afraid of him. As time went by she became a lot more comfortable around him, but still wasn’t really happy with any physical contact from anyone bar Katie. Steve simply respected her boundaries, Katie assuring that she would come round eventually.

Emmy found a friend in Natasha, the young girl spending a fair bit of time with the woman, often Steve would find them in the gym, Natasha teaching her some boxing move or other. Steve wasn’t completely sure it was a very good idea, but he left them to it as Emmy would come back to the apartment gushing about what she had learnt, keen to show them both her ‘moves’ as she called them. It was those moments that they both enjoyed, the signs of a cheeky young, innocent girl flashed through and it made Steve’s heart swell to see her coming out of her shell more and more.

Maybe more surprising, however, was how much she took to Tony. Katie said it was because they were the same mental age, which Pepper had vehemently agreed with. But Steve thought it was because Tony simply treat her like he would anyone else with his usual sarcasm and bluntness and she was fascinated by anything the inventor would show her when they visited the lake house. Turns out she had a real knack for technology, and the two of them set about on a project, building a small remote control robot which Lucky wasn’t quite so sure about as the dog would run away, bark, come back, and run away again whilst Emmy cackled away from her vantage point on the stairs where she controlled it.

Alongside this, Katie was still working on setting up homes for other kids through SIDE, and when she came home saying that there was a place for Emmy at the most recent one, the Rogers were both forced to face the reality that, whilst they had meant the fostering to be a temporary arrangement, neither of them wanted Emmy to be placed back into care.

So at the end of April, they made the fostering arrangement permanent.

Which was why Steve now found himself in a hardware store with a ridiculously hyper young girl, picking out a colour to paint her bedroom in.

“I don’t want pink.” Emmy frowned, looking at the colour chart on the wall.

“Well, what do you want?” Steve asked patiently.

“Purple. I think. Maybe a lilac.” “Okay there are some over there.” he nodded and she crossed the aisle to study the colour.

“I think I like this one.” 

Steve nodded. “Good choice,” before he found the tin with the correct shade in and dropped four onto the trolley. “Alright, that’s that done.” He turned to look at her “You wanted a new lamp too?”

“I don’t need one…”

“No, I know, but you wanted one.” 

Emmy’s face lit up and she nodded so they headed over to the light display. Her eyes went wide as she made her way straight over to a tall lamp, the shade of which was decorated with tiny, silver stars.

“I love it.” She said gently. Steve nodded, picked a boxed one up off the shelf and dropped it onto the flat bed trolley.

“That was easy.” He smiled.

“Please can I get some fairy lights for round my bed?” Emmy asked timidly “We told you kid, whatever you want, well, within reason.”  

With another face-splitting smile, Emmy selected some fairy lights. And a rug. And a few new cushions. And a throw. And a new bed for Lucky who seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her room when she was in there. Several hours and a couple of hundred bucks later they were on their way home after Steve had been cajoled into taking a detour through the drive-through for a burger.

“Hey!” Katie greeted as they walked through the door, Emmy carrying the cushions, Steve lugging everything else “Wow, you buy the whole store?”

“Is it too much?” Emmy asked, nervously “We can…” “No, I’m teasing, honey!” Katie chuckled, dropping a kiss onto her head. There was a moment and then Emmy burst into tears.

“Okay,” Katie sighed, taking her hand “Come on.”

Steve watched, feeling slightly useless, as he couldn’t help comfort the girl. He followed as Katie led her to the couch and he sat on the arm chair as Katie patiently sat Emmy down and waited until she had stopped sobbing. Lucky jumped up beside her and pushed his face into hers, licking away her tears as she wound her hands into the dog’s sandy coloured fur.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Katie assured her “Do you wanna talk about it?” “I’ve never had nice things.” The little girl wringed her hands together and looked up at Katie from underneath wet eyelashes. “And when I did, then my foster brothers would break them and then he would hit me because I didn’t look after them.” She never used her foster father’s name. It was always he or him. Steve clenched his fists and felt the nerve tick in his jaw as he fought back the urge to go on a rant about the asshole.

“You know we would never hurt you Emmy.”He leaned forward, fighting the urge to reach out and tuck the hair that had fallen over her face behind her ear. “And no one else is gonna hurt you whilst you’re here.”

She wiped her eyes and gave a small sniffle. “I know.”

“So, how about we dry those tears and you help me make dinner?” Katie looked at her “Whilst Steve-O puts your things in your room.”

Steve let out a playful groan as Emmy giggled. “I really wish you’d stop calling me that.” Katie stuck out her tongue as he rolled his eyes and stood up, slapping his thighs with his hands. “The pair of you are a monumental pain in my ass.” “Language!” Emmy shot back as she smirked at him and he gave a snort, picking up the items they’d bought and taking them into her room.

Whilst they were in the kitchen, Steve set about fixing up her lamp, the fairy lights, tossed the new throw and cushions they had bought on her bed and set the remote for the flat-screen TV they had had installed on the wall on her nightstand. He called the girls to come and look and Emmy’s face was a picture, her eyes lighting up as she saw her room. She glanced around and looked at Steve, then to Katie, then back again.

“We can start painting over the weekend-” Steve began but was cut off when the girl threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her forehead to the top part of his stomach. Steve paused for a moment before his hand gently fell to the back of Emmy’s head as he stooped and gave her a hug back, looking up at Katie who was smiling from her vantage point in the doorway.

“She’ll come round in time…”  

His wife’s voice echoed around his head as he dropped a soft kiss to the top of Emmy’s head and smiled.

That was just another time in a long list of instances his wife had been right.

***** Chapter 42 Part 1

**Original Posting**