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katyswrites · 2 years ago

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'tis the damn season

PART 3 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), angst (LOTS of angst), friends-with-benefits, parental neglect/abuse, smoking, alcohol use, two fools who can’t just say what they feel

Wordcount: 10.4k

Childhood friends-to-lovers-to-strangers-to-lovers again, broken promises, and roads not taken, lots of angst, soft smut, illicit affairs, what-ifs, and it’s always been you. And it all leads to your hometown, during Christmas break.

PART 3 | call me 'babe' for the weekend

THEN, Autumn 1985

You hummed to yourself as you unzipped your suitcase - the bed was already set up and made, thanks to your mother. Your parents had insisted on coming to New York to help you move, despite your protests about how far it was to travel for them - don’t worry, sweetheart, your dad had said. We’ll get a hotel, and make a trip out of it - do all of the sightseeing.

I want to see Cats! your mother had added cheerfully. You had grimaced, but in hindsight, thanked your lucky stars that they had been there. The line for the elevator was unbelievably long, with frantic families and excitable students lugging their lives upstairs in the form of boxes and bags. The late August heat seeped through the walls, the air conditioning doing little to combat the crowding of bodies in the downstairs lobby. You had opted to try the stairs while your parents waited with the bigger luggage, until you realized what a feat climbing to the 14th floor actually was. Halfway through, you had given up and stood defeatedly in the common space of the 8th floor, awkwardly elbowing your way into the half-full elevator stopping on its ascent. In the end, you only beat your parents to your dorm by about 10 seconds, just far more exhausted and sticky with sweat.

Now, hours later, you were taking some time to set up the rest of your room while your parents checked into their hotel downtown. Freshman orientation was later in the evening, and you wanted at least some time to yourself before getting swept up in the madness of freshman weekend. You hauled your belongings out of the box - while your parents had fussed about things like making your bed, building a bookshelf, and unloading your clothes - these were the personal things, the stuff that would make the bland dorm feel like home. A few of your favorite books, your Polaroid camera, a tattered teddy bear (shut up), your journal… and your memory box. Small things - movie ticket stubs, handwritten notes and drawings from Robin, old birthday cards, and photos - so many photos. You and Robin in your pep band uniforms; your parents on vacation five years ago; a group trip to the county fair in middle school, back when you and Robin were closer with Nancy Wheeler and Barb Holland; and, Steve. Of course, pictures of Steve.

One of you as kids, dressed as Dorothy and a scarecrow for Halloween, one when you and him “got the married” when you were 5, a white tutu on your head as a makeshift veil, with a pretzel stick bouquet. And, more recent ones. One that your parents made you take with him at graduation, still a bit distant, being only days before that fateful night at the party. Some of just Steve, taken by you over the summer - him in just his swim trunks, standing on the edge of a dock with the glittering lake behind him; him, asleep in his bed, hair mussed and bare-skinned beneath the sheets in the morning light; and, one of the both of you, your faces squished together, faces bright thanks to the flash against the dark night sky. He had insisted you take it with him, despite your protests, having just come out of his pool, soaked and slightly sunburnt from earlier that afternoon. It’s maybe your favorite picture of both of you - it’s a moment in time, and while only about a month ago, it’s already fading, despite how desperately you try to hold onto the simplicity of the past summer. It was the kind of summer that made you wonder if it was possible to be nostalgic for the present. Taking pictures of Steve had become your favorite pastime - all just polaroids, no artistry to them, just snapshots in time. It’s what you had always loved to do - pictures from the last decade or so filled the box, like a piece of the town you were leaving behind.

You taking these with you? Steve had asked a few days ago, sifting through your pictures as you were packing. You had nodded, frantically searching through your closet for those sneakers that you knew had to be somewhere.

Good, he had said. Don’t want you to go forgetting about this pretty face over in New York.

That had earned him a pillow thrown at his head.

You sat up on your knees on your bed, carefully clipping the pictures to the clothespins hanging off of a string lining your wall. You were so occupied with your task, that you hardly heard the keys jingling in the lock of your door. When the door did open, you nearly jumped enough to fall off the bed.

You turned quickly, hand to your chest to see a girl in the doorway, presumably your roommate.

“Oh! Jesus, sorry - you scared me!” you said shrilly, accompanied by nervous laughter.

The girl grinned, and gave a small wave. “Sorry! I meant to be here hours ago, but… early hasn’t really ever been my thing.”

“Right,” you said, shifting to sit crisscrossed on the mattress.

The girl lugged a duffel bag and suitcase through the doorway, plopping them on the empty bed on the other side of the room.

“Looks like you beat me to the better view!” she said, glancing at the window near your bed. It was a beautiful view, Lower Manhattan sprawling before you, with its high rises and busy blocks, the skyline visible over the apartment building in the foreground.

“Yeah,” you said sheepishly. The last thing you needed was to piss off your roommate from the jump. “Sorry, I probably should’ve waited -”

“Nah,” she said, waving her hand. “All good. The city’s not going anywhere.”

She hopped up on her bed, unzipping her suitcase. “I’m Debbie, by the way,” she added. You told her your name, and she nodded, setting herself to unpacking her bags.

You took her in - she was a redhead, hair permed with volume for days, with freckles and a curvy frame. She was relatively short, but moved like someone with a six-foot stature. Her nails are painted with chipping black nail polish, her worn t-shirt adorning the name of a band you weren’t too familiar with. You glanced back at the door.

“So, uh, do you have more stuff? Are your parents coming up behind you?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Nah. My folks aren’t exactly the ‘hands-on’ type. Besides, I pack pretty light. But, first -”

She dug through her back pocket, and fished out a pack of cigarettes. She hopped off the bed and bounded towards the windowsill at the end of your bed. She hoisted herself to sit on it, settling near the open window, propped earlier by you to let some fresh air in.

“You mind if I smoke in here?” she asked, already pulling a cigarette from the pack. “Promise I won’t set off the alarm, I’m a pro.”

“Oh, yeah - I mean, if you’ve got a spare one, that is.”

She grinned. “I’ve got a feeling we’re going to get along,” she declared, handing you a cigarette as you joined her on the sill.

She passed you the lighter after lighting her own, leaning back against the beam.

“So, where are ya from?” she asked, blowing smoke out the window.

“Hawkins,” you said. She raised an eyebrow, prompting you to add, “It’s in Indiana, maybe like an hour outside of Indianapolis.”

“Oh, nice,” she said, feigning interest. It was boring, and you knew it, so you chose to just reciprocate.

“You?”

“Long Island,” Debbie replied. “If you had a nickel for every person who tells you that this semester, you’ll probably be able to pay the tuition.”

You found yourself fascinated with this girl, with the way she pronounced it a Lawn Guyland, her words stretching and curling like bubblegum wrapped around a finger. Nothing seemed to be a problem, nothing was a big deal to her. Maybe you could be like that, too, in time.

You laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think there’s enough nickels in the world for that.”

She smirked, and took another drag. “You’re not wrong about that.”

“Well, I’ve never been to Long Island,” you said. “So, that sounds pretty cool to me.”

She scoffed. “Trust me, it’s not. Though, maybe if I was from Indiana I’d change my tune.”

You can’t even feel too offended, not when getting out of that godforsaken town was what you’d been working towards your whole life. So instead you chuckled dryly, staring out at the cityscape below you. It still didn’t feel real - the next part of your life, starting right then, in the city you’d dreamed about for as long as you could remember.

“What’re you majoring in?” she asked. “I’m in Gallatin, and yes, that’s the bullshit school, before you get a chance to say it.”

You held up your hands in defense. “Hey, I wasn’t going to say anything - besides, that sounds cool - I mean, Individualized Study, it means you can forge your own path, you know?”

She shrugged, which was enough for you. You flicked some ash out the window, as you added, “I’m Journalism, though I think I’m going to minor in Creative Writing, too.”

“Oh, nice, she’s a writer?” Debbie says with piqued curiosity. “I see you, Indiana.”

“Well, I don’t know if I’d call myself a writer, yet.”

She shrugged. “It’s the yet that’s important, Indiana. I mean, that’s why we’re here, right?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, shutting your eyes. “Why we’re here.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the city drifting up from below.

“Who’s the guy?” Debbie asked after a while, lifting her head towards the pictures hanging on your wall. You turned, seeing how Steve’s face was scattered throughout the memories pinned above your bed.

“That’s my friend from home, Steve. We’ve known each other a long time.”

You looked wistfully out the window, towards the west, as if you could see him, back in Hawkins. Debbie raised her eyebrows.

“Just a friend?” she asked, her voice suggestive.

You felt your face heat, and stared down at your shoes. “I mean, kind of. He’s - it’s complicated, I guess.”

She shook her head incredulously. “Nah, I don’t do complicated.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think I did, either.”

Then, Debbie got a mischievous glint in her eye. “But, to be clear, he’s not your boyfriend? It’s just, he’s kind of all over your pictures.”

You nodded cautiously. Then, she looked giddy. “Perfect. That means nothin’s stopping you from coming out with me to a party tonight? It’s at my friend Michelle’s place, but her older brother’s in Stern, invited all his friends too. I mean, I can’t be the only one flirtin’ with the upperclassmen.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but then she was hopping off the windowsill and heading back to her bed.

“Oh, I don’t know - I mean, it sounds fun, but it’s the first night -”

“And? C’mon, we can think of it as roommate bonding. What’s holding you back, Indiana?”

You thought for a moment, then felt a cheeky smile start to form.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

THEN, Winter 1985

“So, tell me all about it!” Robin said excitedly.

You sat with her and Steve in Gateway Diner, your go-to hangout spot in high school. You poured syrup over your pancakes, dousing them until they were drowning in the stuff. Steve smirked next to you, Robin rolling her eyes.

“You want some pancakes with that plate of syrup?” she asked sarcastically. You kicked her under the table, earning a scowl from her and a laugh from Steve.

“Fuck off,” you grumbled, sipping your coffee indignantly.

“Jesus, I really missed you around here,” Robin said, shoveling some of her veggie omelet into her mouth.

“What am I, wood?” Steve asked.

“I’m stuck with you everyday, dingus.”

You smiled, the familiarity of it all feeling so right. Being here, in this booth, the din of chattering customers and clinking dishes, the smell of eggs and coffee, the stickiness of the vinyl seat and linoleum table as reminiscent of home as your childhood bedroom. You and Robin would always come here after late-night band rehearsals, or on lazy Sunday mornings. And, this past summer, the three of you would slide into this booth, with Robin and Steve becoming closer at Scoops Ahoy, while you and Steve…

If Robin knew about you two, she wasn’t giving any indication. You had only arrived back in Hawkins yesterday, and made the promise to meet up with her in the morning. Spending the night at Steve’s hadn’t been in your plan. But, when Steve went to pick Robin up, with you already in the passenger seat, she hadn’t questioned it. It didn’t matter that Robin’s house was technically on the way to yours from Steve’s, not the other way around. It didn’t matter that you were keeping your red wool scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, well-aware of the bruises Steve had left on your neck and collarbone the night before. And, it didn’t matter that you smelled like Steve’s shampoo. Because the three of you were here, and it was familiar, easy. Because, deep down, you had missed home these last 4 months more than you’d liked to admit.

“Well, tell us everything!” Robin exclaimed, leaning forward on her elbows on the table.

You smiled as you took a bite of your pancakes. You felt Steve’s eyes boring into you, but you avoided looking at him - he had heard a lot of this yesterday, during your aimless drive around town, and last night, curled into his side, tangled in his sheets.

“Well, I mean - it’s amazing,” you said, trying to find the words to describe your life from the last semester. “At first, it was hard - I didn’t know anyone, and I kept getting lost - I made so many rookie mistakes, like taking the subway in the wrong direction - and, people can totally tell when you’re not from the city, I felt like an idiot. But, I at least got used to how to get to my classes pretty quickly, then I had my roommate show me around - Debbie, I told you about her, right? Anyway, she’s from Long Island, which is not the same as the city, I learned, but she at least showed me around.”

You took another gulp of your coffee to wash down the sticky pancakes. Under the table, Steve’s fingers brushed the side of your thigh, and your breath hitched. You did your best to keep looking at Robin and keep your face stoic as you continued.

“Debbie’s really cool - you guys should meet her. When that storm came in at Thanksgiving, I was so devastated that I couldn’t come home, so she was beyond kind and let me take the train home with her to her house - I mean, I think it was just to piss off her parents, but that’s neither here nor there.”

And you went on from there, to talk about your classes, and how even though they were mostly boring gen eds, you were excited to be enrolled in more actual writing classes next semester. You told stories of your best and worst professors, the best food spots in the city, how you were making friends with people in your classes and some theatre kids from the Tisch school. You went on and on, talking animatedly about how wonderful and scary it was, how different it all was.

“They mean it, when they say it’s the city that never sleeps,” you added. “I mean, I didn’t get a good night’s sleep until about two weeks in - you get used to the noise, eventually.”

As you spoke, only occasionally interrupted with a question from Robin, you were so aware of Steve - how his hand was traveling up your leg, his knee knocking into yours, the feeling of him by your side, becoming increasingly impossible to ignore. You realized it was a game to him - how soon until Robin connects the dots? But, two could play that game, you decided.

“So, have you, like, met anybody?” Robin asked.

You hesitated for a moment, confused. “Well, I just told you - there’s Debbie, and Ann, and Jake from Tisch, and -”

“No,” Robin said, smirking. “I mean, did you meet anybody? Like, not exactly friends?”

You felt your face heat, well aware of Steve next to you. His hand, now on your knee, stilled, waiting for your answer.

“Oh! Uh, no - not really. I mean, Debbie’s always trying to get me to like, ‘get out there,’ or whatever. But, um -”

You stole a glance over at Steve, just half a second. He was looking at you intently, but his face rather neutral.

“- I just, didn’t meet anyone that interesting, I guess. I mean, c’mon Robin - I’m there to be a student,” you added, albeit facetiously.

“Right,” Robin said. “Remind me, which bars are the ones that don’t card?”

You crumpled up your napkin and threw it at her, causing the three of you to descend into a laughing fit so contagious that other diners turned to look at you, annoyed. And, for a few moments, it felt as if you had never left Hawkins.

******

Steve dropped Robin off first, later that afternoon. She had briefly asked why, knowing that it made more sense to stop by your house on the way back to his. Steve had made some excuse about going on auto-pilot, and missing the turn. You played along, playfully slapping his arm and calling him an idiot. Inwardly, your heart was doing somersaults. After Robin bid her goodbyes, and you promised to visit her at work, you and Steve were driving away, silence falling between you two.

“You know,” Steve finally said. “What Robin asked, back at Gateway - it’s okay.”

You shifted to face him, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s okay?”

“You know - if you started seeing someone. Or, you just wanted to have some fun, or whatever. It’s all good.”

You felt your face grow hot, staring at him as he continued to look ahead at the road.

“Well, yeah - I mean, I know. Was I supposed to think it wasn’t?”

“No! No, definitely not. That’s part of this - this whole thing. As long as it’s fun, it’s all good. Just - if anything got more serious, with some other guy or something, you’d tell me, right?”

You paused for a second, taken aback. “Yes, of course. I told you that, last night - if there was someone else, really someone else, I’d tell you. I mean, same goes for you, right?”

He glanced over for a moment, nodding ferociously.

“Yeah, of course I would.”

“Good!”

“Good.”

You stared out the window for a while after that, a million thoughts running through your mind. Steve didn’t own you, you knew that. And, you knew that there weren’t any promises between you two - why should there be? That was the whole deal. And, if you had wanted to seriously flirt with someone this past semester, you could’ve - you just chose not to. That was the easiest way to think about it, the most sensical. But, for a moment, you thought about Steve seeing other girls while you were gone, and you wanted to throw up. You did your best to shake the feeling, choosing to stare at the reflection in the rearview mirror.

For a while, neither of you could think of anything to say. It was a somewhat comfortable silence, a familiar one. Still, this strangeness hung in the air, unanswered questions. You let your ears become attuned to the radio instead, hoping the music would drown out the noise in your mind. Crackly Christmas music filtered through the car’s speakers, occasionally cutting out when service got spotty. Soon enough, the familiar, synthy sound of Last Christmas started playing, and you started humming along. You leaned across the console and turned it up, earning a groan from Steve.

“No, not Wham!” he cried.

“C’mon Steve, you know you love it!”

He rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. You leaned across the console towards him, mimicking holding a microphone as you sang:

Last Christmas I gave you my heart

But the very next day you gave it away

This year, to save me from tears

I'll give it to someone special

You were being annoying about it, and you knew it - you were singing with a stupid grin, shoving the imaginary microphone in his face. He laughed, and eventually joined in with you, despite his faux-protests. He drove through the neighborhood streets, passing houses with white-picket fences and frosty, browning lawns, begging to be covered with a blanket of snow in the coming weeks.

At a stop sign, Steve seized the opportunity to fully turn to face you, matching your energy to scream-sing in your face, both of you overpowering George Michael. As he did, he reached across the console and placed his hand on your thigh. Unlike the restaurant, it didn’t even seem intentional - no, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. But you did.

Your voice trailed off, the sound of the song fading as your ears roared, the blood rushing to your face.

He stopped too, after a few moments, his smile falling, softening into something else.

“What is it?” he asked. You let your eyes flick down to his lips, just for a second, and you shook your head softly. You brought your hand up to cup his cheek, and leaned in closer.

“Pull over, Steve. Somewhere private.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

THEN, Autumn 1986

“That was -”

“Mm hm,” you said, breathing short. You pulled the sheets up around you, turning on your side to look at the man next to you.

Dave smiled, resting his arm behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

“I mean, wow,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m glad I convinced you to grab that drink.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, scoffing.

“Yeah, well, only after like, the eighth time.”

“Worth the effort,” he joked. You giggled, nuzzling further into the sheets.

He cleared his throat after a moment, glancing over at you quickly.

��Um, you’re good, right? Like, do you need me to do, uh, anything else for you?”

It took you a moment to realize what he was getting at, and you felt our face heat.

“Oh! Uh, no! You’re good! It was - it was nice!”

The answer was actually yes, I got pretty close, and you really should go down on me for an hour to make up for it, but it feels like a moot point now. But, that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun, or enjoyable - it had felt pretty good. You had just been a bit spoiled up until now, you decided. That had to be it.

Besides, Dave was great - handsome, a bit mysterious, and a senior, who shouldn’t be interested in a sophomore like you, but he was. He was nice, and interesting, and bought you a few drinks - how could anything be bad about that?

“Okay, just making sure,” he said, sitting up against the headboard. He reached for his bedside table, fishing through the drawer until he fished out a pack of cigarettes. He stuck one in his mouth, then extending the carton to you.

You accepted it gratefully, taking one out for yourself and letting him light it for you.

After a few moments passed, he said, “So, uh, d’you live far from here?”

You glanced over, exhaling smoke before you answered.

“Oh, um, not really - I’m in Lafayette this year.”

He frowned, flicking some ash into the tray beside the bed.

“I mean, that’s way over close to Chinatown, right? It’s kind of a hike this time of night.”

Oh. What he was really asking was how are you getting home?

“Oh, I mean, I can take the subway. Not a big deal.”

He cocked an eyebrow, then shook his head.

“No need - I’ll call you a cab, yeah?”

You felt your heart sink a little, but then again, what were you supposed to expect? That he’d let you stay over, on a weeknight, in his apartment that looked like it cost more than your parents’ house? It had only been a first date, for Christ’s sake. You suddenly felt so out of place there, so small, but you feigned a smile.

“Oh, sure - that’s really nice of you.”

He waved his hand, fishing through his discarded jeans for his wallet.

“Don’t mention it - you’ve gotta get home safe, you know?”

You nodded quietly, stubbing out your cigarette in the tray on the windowsill. He stared at you for a moment, expectantly. You got the hint, and nodded.

“Yeah, uh, just give me a minute to get dressed, yeah?”

He nodded, leaning back against the headboard as you searched around for your things. You excused yourself to the bathroom, hurriedly getting dressed. This was probably how the real world was, you decided. What you and Steve did - that wasn’t the norm. Nothing about your situation with Steve was exactly normal, you supposed. But, what did this make you now? Do you even tell Steve about Dave, next time you’re home? Wait, why the fuck are you thinking about Steve right now?

On your way out, after Dave handed you some cash for the cab, you stood with him in his doorway.

“Well, uh, thanks for the cab,” you said, fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied. Then, after a moment, he added, “I - I had a good time tonight. And next time, maybe we’ll do an actual dinner? On me?”

Next time?

You nodded, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.

“Yeah! Yeah, totally! You know where to find me!”

He smiled endearingly, and when the taxi honked outside, he pressed a quick kiss to your lips. And, when you got in that cab and gave the address, you felt… confused. But, you couldn’t think anymore, not right then, so you pressed your head against the glass, and traveled home in silence.

THEN, Winter 1986

You sipped your drink slowly, the crackle of the prosecco mixed with cranberry on your tongue tasting like just like Christmas. The Harringtons’ house was warm, full of chatter and laughter as guests clinked their drinks and snacked on appetizers. You had made a beeline for the bar, set up in the kitchen on the counter. Poinsettias seemed to be the drink of choice, and despite having only been there a few minutes, you were getting towards the end of your second.

You had been home nearly a week, avoiding Steve with various excuses - you had promised to visit your aunt in the city, you had to go shopping with your mom, you needed to spend a day baking to prepare for Christmas Eve. There were a few times he had called, too, and you had told your parents to lie and say you weren’t home, claiming you didn’t feel well and didn’t want to see friends at that moment. None of the above was true, not really.

You were being a coward, and you knew it - you just had to tell him. It wasn’t a big deal, you had known this would happen -you were just shocked, more than anything, that it had happened to you first -

“Hey! There you are!” you heard a familiar voice say. You turned, and felt your face break into a wide smile when you laid your eyes on Robin.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around her.

“When did you get here?” she asked as she pulled away.

“Oh, just a few minutes ago -”

“No, I mean in Hawkins. You never called to say you were back!”

A pang of guilt hit you - you should’ve told her, but if you saw Robin, you’d have to see Steve too. You opened your mouth to answer, until you saw Robin wave over your shoulder to someone - you could’ve bet a million dollars who it was.

“There he is!” Robin said excitedly. You paused, and plastered a smile on your face as you turned, only to come face-to-face with Steve.

His eyes widened, just for a moment, his gaze roaming up and down your form.

“Hey,” you said quietly.

“Hey,” he echoed, face soft. “I, uh, tried calling - you never said when you came back to town, exactly.”

He sounded wary, like you might bolt if he wasn’t careful.

“Oh, yeah - I’ve been back for a few days, but it's been crazy busy. You know, with my family, and stuff.”

It was blanket-thin, and you knew he saw right through it. But, he just flashed a quick smile and nodded.

“Oh, cool - well, it’s great to see you. Seriously, really glad you could make it.”

Your heart ached a little - you hadn’t seen him in months, had hardly called him all semester. Had hardly called home at all, really. And, God, he looked great. Pretty, even, in the warmth of the Christmas lights.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Me too. I really missed you guys,” you added, glancing over between him and Robin.

“Well, enough of the sentimental crap - let’s get drunk, and stuff our faces with a bunch of sugary junk?” Robin said, clapping Steve on the back as she headed towards the dining room. You moved to follow her, but stopped when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey - are you okay?” Steve asked. You stared ahead for a moment, before taking a step back to meet his eyes. “When I hadn’t managed to get ahold of you, I - I mean, are you pissed with me?”

You shook your head fervently. “No, no, Steve, I - I’m sorry. I should’ve called you, the day I came back. I just -”

You sighed, and gently shouldered his hand away. He frowned, but waited patiently for you to gather your thoughts.

“Steve - I really didn’t know how to tell you this, but… I’m seeing someone. Well, sort of. But, it’s been going on a couple of months now, and - you should’ve known about it sooner, and I’m sorry, it’s just -”

“Hey, hey -” he cut you off, placing his hands firmly on both of your shoulders. “It’s okay, seriously. I mean… we knew this might happen, one way or another. I mean, I think it’s great.”

You furrowed your brow - he sounded sincere, and looked it to.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I swear - I mean, I’m not gonna lie, I was looking forward to -” he glanced around, suddenly aware of the house full of friends, family, neighbors, “- well, you know. But - we’re still friends, right?”

He sounded small towards the end, the question coming out timidly in a way that was so uncharacteristically Steve. You suddenly felt guilty, and incredibly stupid for ever thinking that this conversation would have gone any differently.

“God, yes, of course, Steve,” you said gently. “We’ll always be friends. I think we shook on that, a long time ago.”

He smiled fondly at the memory. “Good to know you’re still gonna be a pain in my ass, then.”

You both laughed, and you sipped more of your drink, your head finally starting to feel a bit fuzzy.

“Well, let’s find Robs - I mean, she might start a rumor that we’re sleeping together, or something.”

He rolled his eyes and chuckled, before moving to follow you towards the dining room.

“Hey,” he started, “What’s his name?”

You stopped, turning to face Steve again.

“Who?”

“The guy, your boyfriend, or whatever.”

“Oh - Dave. He’s a senior, a film student.”

Steve nodded, swirling the beer in his glass.

“Well, I hope he’s a great guy - you deserve someone great.”

He was looking down as he said it, not quite meeting your gaze. You just nodded, face sympathetic.

“He is - I mean, he’s good to me.”

Steve smiled at that, genuine and warm, and a moment of understanding passed between you two. For you, it felt like this great weight had been lifted off of your shoulders, this thing that had been in the back of your mind for weeks suddenly not a big deal. And, it was Christmastime, and here he was, the same boy you’d always known. The drinks were flowing, the fire was warm, and you were home. And maybe, for the week, you could pretend you were 17 again, because it was easy to do that when you were with Steve. It was always easy with him - and in that moment, you were certain it always would be.

THEN, Summer 1987

That summer, when you came home to Hawkins, Dave had promised to visit. You had stayed behind in New York for a while after the semester ended, so you could cheer him on at graduation. Well, he didn’t have enough tickets for his section, so you sat up in the nosebleeds at Yankee Stadium. Nonetheless, you were able to go out drinking with him and his friends after, thanks to the fake ID he had acquired for you.

He said he’d come to Hawkins at the end of June, and properly see where you grew up, and the people who had been there with you through it. Part of you had been terrified, embarrassed by the rundown, small town, by your overbearing but loving parents, by your goddamn childhood bedroom that still had dolls standing on the dresser. Still, as much as you had been trying to distance yourself from Hawkins, to leave it behind and never look back, it was where you had come from, the place that molded you - if he loved you, then he should love Hawkins, right?

But, all of the worries you had were pointless - Dave would never get on that train, would never set foot in Hawkins, or your childhood home. He would never meet Robin, or Steve, or anyone else who mattered. Because, after weeks of hardly hearing from him, you tried to call him directly. And, some woman named Lisa picked up. You knew damn well where his phone was, right on his bedside table. You also knew how early in the morning it was when you called, hoping to catch him before he left for work.

When you showed up on Steve’s doorstep that night, with tear-stained cheeks and red, tired eyes, he didn’t question it. And, when you asked to stay over, he didn’t give the slightest indication that he minded. And, when you finally told him what happened, he held you while you cried.

You deserve better than that asshole he had said soothingly. One day, you’re going to find someone who thinks the world revolves around you, who can’t breathe when they’re not with you. I swear.

And, when you started kissing him, he had protested at first - c’mon, you’re crying, you need some time to deal with this.

And, Steve was probably right. But, you had taken his face in your hands, and whispered, Please, Steve - I need you, I missed you - make me forget all about him.

And he did. One, two, three times that night. And the next morning. And, nearly that entire summer - twisted in Steve’s bedsheets, driving around in Steve’s car, and everything was Steve. Throughout that summer, you spent your days in his passenger seat, taking late-night drives to Lover’s Lake, eating sweet, sticky breakfasts at Gateway, singing along to Tears For Fears until you can’t hear your own thoughts. That summer was sunscreen and cheap beer, chlorine and Steve’s cologne, sweet strawberries and the soft morning light that filtered through his bedroom window. Just like before, no promises were made - you couldn’t do that, couldn’t cross that line. But, it was fun, and it was easy, and for just a passing moment, you almost didn’t want to go back to New York in August. Almost.

THEN, Winter 1987

“So,” Steve said, blowing smoke out the window, “How serious are you about this guy, exactly?”

You were sitting in Steve’s living room, the fireplace crackling as Christmas music played from the radio in the kitchen. His parents were gone, attending his dad’s annual office Christmas party. According to Steve, it was really just for everyone to receive their holiday bonuses, but it was also an excuse for them to get drunk and stupid. Once again, you had to break it to Steve that you had started seeing someone new - it had only been a few dates, but the guy was kind, and treated you like a gentleman, and Steve may as well know now, so it isn’t a surprise down the line if it ever became something official.

You raised your eyebrow, flicking some ash off of your cigarette.

“Who, Paul?”

He nodded, taking another drag while keeping his eyes on you. You shrugged, taking another swig of beer as you considered your answer.

“I wouldn’t say ‘serious’ is part of the conversation right now,” you said, measuring your words carefully. “I mean, we’ve gone out a few times, and - he’s really great. Like, a really nice -”

“I’m sure he is,” Steve replies, flicking some ash into the tray on the windowsill.

You sighed. “...but?”

Steve shrugged. “Nothing. It’s just - I don’t want to see you get hurt again, that’s all.”

You bristled, folding your arms. “Don’t worry, Steve - I’m a big girl, I think I can handle myself.”

“Oh, I know - but, that shit that Dave pulled? I don’t want to see that happen again, you know?”

“This is different - Paul is great -”

“Yeah, you mentioned that.”

His words were short, voice sharp. Silence fell between you two for a few moments, tenuous and awkward. You stared down at your feet, avoiding the way Steve’s eyes burned into your skull. You heard him huff, and even though you were avoiding looking over at him, you could imagine the way he was running his hand through his hair, thinking.

“Look,” he said, more softly this time. “I just - I’m looking out for a friend - I mean, you just deserve someone who treats you right, that’s all.”

“He does treat me right,” you shot back, meeting his eyes again.

“Good.”

“Great.”

Neither of you spoke again for a while, just letting the quiet night and hum of the television fill the air. You took another drink, quietly debating how to move on from this topic. You remembered that you hadn’t called Paul yet since you’d arrived home, and a pang of guilt hit you - knowing him, he was waiting by the phone, hoping that you had a nice flight and that you were already missing him.

“I really do like him,” you added, feeling stupid and small as soon as you said it.

“You know,” Steve murmured, “you shouldn’t just be going out with someone nice.”

You rolled your eyes. “Didn’t you literally just say you don’t want me to get hurt, and be with someone who treats me right, all that shit?”

“Yeah, I did - but, nice isn’t enough. Not for you.”

He shifts, scooting closer until he’s right next to you.

“I mean, nice… that’s a given. But - you deserve more than that. I know you - you need excitement, and fun, and someone who thinks the sun shines out of your ass even when they’re unbelievably pissed off with you - the real stuff. It should just, like, feel like you’ve been struck by fucking lightning, when you’re with someone. Not nice.”

The last part came out forcefully, perhaps more than he had meant. Your breath caught in your throat, and you whipped around to look right at him. His eyes were wide, pleading.

You placed down your bottle, slowly, not breaking eye contact with the boy.

“Is that so?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. His knees were brushing yours, the two of you shoulder-to-shoulder. Your heart was pounding, threatening to break through your ribcage and fly away at any moment. Before you could think, or say anything at all, he closed the distance by pressing his lips to yours.

There was nothing slow or gentle about it - he was kissing you fast, desperately, fervently. And, you let him. He immediately brought his hands to the sides of your head to pull you impossibly closer. You were breathing him in, it’s all gnashing teeth and tangling tongues, quiet moans and shaky breaths.

The last few months of distance, of toeing the line of something-like-friendship, were dissolving in an instant. As you breathed him in, tasted him, you were telling him I missed this, I wanted this.

You shifted until you were swinging your leg over his, straddling him without breaking the kiss. It was when his tongue entered your mouth that you moaned - he tasted like cigarettes and cheap beer, smelled like mint and cologne, and it was so Steve.

It was when you brushed against his clothed bulge that he groaned, earning a deep fuck from him.

You pulled back, both taking a moment to come up for air, and maybe to your senses. You looked into Steve’s eyes, a question hanging between you both - we shouldn’t do this, not again - right?

But his eyes were like chocolate and honey, his lips tasted like home, and god dammit, he just looked so pretty right then. So you were kissing him again, practically devouring him, doing everything short of melding your body into his. It set him off, and before you knew what was happening, he was taking charge.

He wrapped his arms around you and gathered you into him, picking you up off his lap and moving until you were on your back on the floor. He held himself over you, kissing you with everything he had. There wasn’t time to move up to the couch, let alone his bedroom upstairs - there wasn’t enough time, you needed each other now.

He reached down for the button of your jeans, fumbling with it until it popped, and you shimmied them down your legs as he sat up, pulling his shirt over his head in one swift movement.

It was a whirlwind, a dizzying haze - you weren’t sure when the rest of your clothes came off, or his - all you knew was that you were needy, enough that you whispered touch me, Steve, please into his mouth. And he did - oh, he did.

He brought his hand downwards, fingers brushing along your slit as he swore.

“Fuck, you’re so wet baby - so wet for me -”

You nodded eagerly, bucking your hips up into his hand. He got the message, not even bothering to make fun of you for being desperate. Instead, he brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing slow circles there. You gasped, canting upwards until your forehead was buried in his shoulder.

“Feel good, baby?” he asked.

Baby. He only ever called you that in moments like this, and you had missed it more than you wanted to admit. So you just bit your lip and nodded, whispering. “Yes, my God, feels fucking amazing.”

Nobody could make you feel like Steve did, not without being told. But he knew your body, knew you, better than anyone. So when he sped up his ministrations on your clit and started kissing you lazily, you let him. When he slid in a finger, two, three, you let him. And when he hit that spot inside of you that made you see stars, you let him.

He moved his lips down as he touched you, sucking a bruise to your collarbone. You cried out, and he smiled into your skin.

“You close? Yeah, are you gonna come on my fingers, baby?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathed, eyes screwed shut as you arched up into his hand. “Right there, don’t stop - fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck - oh my God -”

Then you were coming undone, his name a strangled scream on your lips as you came.

“There you go, Jesus, just like that -” he whispered in your ear, sucking on the soft skin behind it as you came down from your high.

You had forgotten what it was like, for it to be like this - nothing compared to losing yourself in Steve Harrington. That was why, while your heart was still racing, chest still heaving, you were kissing him again, already wanting more.

“Inside me - please, Steve, I need you -”

“Fuck, yeah, I know. I do too, hang on -”

He frantically pulled down his boxers, the only piece of clothing left between you two. The carpet was itchy against your back, the floor hard beneath it, but you didn’t care - not with Steve above you, ready to give you what you wanted.

He leaned back on his knees for a moment, looking down at you, his expression so soft that you thought you might melt under it.

“What is it?” you asked quietly.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. He started to bring himself down over you again, then froze.

“Shit,” he said under his breath.

“What?” you asked, aware of how whiny you probably sounded.

“I don’t think I’ve got any condoms,” he grumbled, pressing a hand to his forehead. Your heart sank for a moment, because God, you were certain that you’d die if you didn’t have him that very moment.

“Steve, hey -” you whispered. “I mean… I’m on the pill. I have been, for a while, I just never… I mean, I know you, so - if you wanted…”

His eyes widened, and he lowered himself, propping himself up on his elbows as he brought his face inches from yours.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded slowly. “I trust you, Steve.”

And you did - you really did. He looked like all of his Christmases had come together at once, and he kissed you again, with ferocity.

“Thank God,” he rasped, “because I think I’d die on the spot if I couldn’t fuck you right now.”

Your stomach flipped at that, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it, because he entered you in one swift movement. You groaned, the sudden intrusion a welcome one - you were so full, Steve fitting you so perfectly, so completely. You had forgotten just how good he felt. He dropped his forehead to yours, breaths ragged.

“Fuck - you feel fuckin’ perfect -” he breathed. “Please tell me I can move,” he pleaded.

“Please do, Steve.”

That set him off, and he started rolling his hips into yours slowly. You just sighed into his mouth, his nose nuzzling yours as he set a slow pace. He pulled almost all the way out before pushing back in. Without being told, his hand traveled down to where your bodies met, his forefinger rubbing your clit in agonizingly slow circles.

You gasped, fingernails grazing down his back for purchase. You clenched around him, and he let out a strangled groan that nearly killed you.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, picking up the pace a bit as he thrust into you. “You’re takin’ me so well, you always do - fuck, nobody takes me like you -”

“It’s not - ah, shit - it’s not like this with other people,” you whined, pressing your lips to his shoulder. “You just feel so good, Steve, ohmygod -”

You were both messes, babbling dirty words and sweet declarations into each other’s ears. And semblances of rational thought had vanished, because all you could feel was each other. All you felt was his cock, stretching and filling you so perfectly; his hands, touching you in all the right places; and his voice, saying all the right things, like you’re so fuckin’ amazing and I needed you so bad.

You were saying things too, crazy things, desperate things - it was hard not to, Steve was like a drug, one you’d never get enough of. Maybe that’s why what happened next did, you told yourself later. You would later try to rationalize it in so many ways, beyond the most obvious one. Because, when one moment changes everything, isn’t that what you do?

It was when you had shifted positions, both of you upright. He held you to him as he sat up, pulling to onto his lap as he continued to fuck up into you. His hand found your clit again as you started to bounce on his cock, the new angle hitting you just right.

“Fuck, I’m close,” you cried, meeting his thrusts. He buried his head into your shoulder, sloppily pressing his lips there as he groaned.

“Thank God - I’ve been close ever since you started kissing me, baby.”

You laughed, moving faster as you chased your high.

“Where can I finish?” he asked, suddenly aware of the lack of the usual barrier between you two.

“I told you,” you breathed, the sounds of your slapping skin growing louder. “I trust you - come inside me, Steve.”

He sounded like he actually died right then, pulling you impossibly closer. Your breasts brushed the hair on his chest, and it was driving you crazy, being that close to him. He started babbling nonsense towards the end, like he often did.

“Oh my god, baby, fuck, it’s like this pussy was made for me - ya know I mean that, fuck - just like that, yesyesyes -”

You were so focused on yourself, and the tightening coil in your belly that was threatening to snap at any moment, that you almost missed what he said next - almost.

“I’m almost there - fuck, I missed this, missed you - God, I love you, you know that? Ohgodohgodohgod -”

Before you could say anything, the coil snapped, and you were coming, so hard you nearly went blind. You screamed, throwing your head back as he continued to thrust into you, his cock twitching inside you. He followed a moment later with your name on his lips, and there it was again - fuck, I love you.

You felt him come inside you, a new sensation, warm as he filled you up. You shuddered at the feeling, his cum seeping into you as you continued to clench around him, the aftershocks of your orgasm coursing through you.

Both of your chests were heaving, breathing almost in unison. You still sat in his lap, arms wrapped around each other. You felt his heartbeat against yours, hard and rapid as he peppered gentle kisses along your shoulder.

But, as you came down from your highs, you were frozen - did you hear that right? No, you couldn’t have - there was no way that he really said -

“Wow,” he whispered. “That was -”

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “It was.”

You felt him start to soften inside you, and you moved to clamber off of him. He gripped your back for a moment, as if to say not yet, stay here for a minute, but it was too late - you extracted yourself from his embrace, seating yourself on the living room carpet. You still felt him inside of you, threatening to trickle out of you. He must’ve realized too.

“Oh, shit,” he said. “Let me, uh, get you a towel or something - I didn’t even think of that, sorry - I’ve just gotta run upstairs, I’ll be right back -”

Before you could say anything, he was pulling on his boxers and standing up. Before he left the room, he stopped and left a quick, chaste kiss on your lips - something he hardly ever did after sex. Something new. He did it without second thought, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Then, he was running up the stairs, taking them two at a time to the bathroom.

You sat there for a moment, alone, and held your head in your hands. Shit.

I love you - that’s what he said, twice, loud and clear. And, he doesn’t even seem to know. You’re not sure if that fact made it better or worse. There was only one thing you knew for sure - that feeling, settling deep in your chest, so big and overwhelming that it threatened to split you in two - it was fear. This wasn’t supposed to happen - that was the whole point. Here you were, naked in Steve Harrington’s house, after having sex on his living room floor - what were you even doing? Then, you thought of Paul, who you hadn’t even bothered to call since you got home - and it set you over the edge. Your head felt light, the room spinning as a dull ring filled your ears. Before you knew it, tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes, and then they were falling, hot and fast.

You didn’t even hear Steve come back into the room, wearing pajama pants and holding a towel in one hand and a blanket in the other, presumably for both of you. Not until he dropped on his knees next to you, hands brought to your shoulder.

“Hey, hey - what’s wrong? Are you okay? Did I do -”

But you shouldered him off, reaching to grab your clothes. You pulled on your panties and clasped your bra, avoiding eye contact with the boy, despite his desperate pleas.

“Wait, what’s going on? What happened? Hey -”

He gently grabbed your wrist, forcing you to stop and look at him as you were pulling your jeans back on.

“Talk to me - whatever it is, it’s okay.”

His eyes were panicked, concerned. You sobbed, fresh tears rolling down your face.

“Hey - Chicago,” he said firmly. Well, fuck.

You just stopped, and took a deep breath. “Did you mean it?”

He furrowed his brow, puzzled. “Mean what?”

Your breath hitched, and you shook your head.

“Forget it,” you conceded, pulling your sweater back on over your head.

“Forget what? Seriously, what the fuck?”

You straightened up, and looked him in the eye. You let your face become stoic, at least to the best of your ability, before saying, “We can’t do this anymore. Sex, I mean, you and me. It’s a bad idea.”

His face fell. “What? What are you even talking about? Was it like, not good for you? I thought -”

“No! Jesus, it was fucking great - that’s the problem?”

He only looked more confused, and you pressed the heel of your hand to your forehead as you shut your eyes, frustrated.

“Okay, shit - I mean, I’m seeing Paul, okay?”

He looked taken aback at that. “Wait, that’s what this is about? I thought you guys weren’t that serious, not actually dating or anything -”

“Well, it’s not fair to him. Or you, or anyone involved, really.”

“And that’s for you to decide?”

You crossed your arms indignantly. “I didn’t say that. But, I’ve got a life back at school, and I just don’t think -”

“Oh, I see,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “That’s what this is about.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?”

“Look - it’s no secret that you hate Hawkins, and you want to get the Hell out. And, I don’t blame you. And, you’re doing it. But, let’s not pretend like you haven’t always thought you were better than this town, and the people in it.”

You straightened up and took a few steps towards him. “That’s not true -”

“C’mon, I’ve always known that you’ve looked down your nose at me, Miss NYU,” he spat out. “I mean, you’re talking about what’s fair? Have you ever thought about how much this has been killing me?”

His stare had hardened, his voice heavier.

“How much what is killing you?”

“Us! This!” he said, gesturing between the two of you. “I mean, what? You go have fun out in the city, in college, have this whole new big life, and come home only to use me for a quick fuck for the holidays?”

Your blood was boiling - his words were biting, neither of you bothering with niceties.

“How dare you -”

“You’ve never actually cared about this, us,” he stated. “Admit it.”

“Steve, that’s not -”

“Tell me this - if your parents didn’t insist you came home for breaks - would we have ever even seen each other at all after you left for New York?”

You stopped, thinking of how to answer that, but the moment of silence was enough for him.

“Yeah - that’s what I thought.”

You rolled your eyes. “Steve, don’t act all high and mighty - you could’ve always taken a trip out to see me, I told you that you could -”

“Yeah, as if you actually wanted me there.”

Your heart sank at that, despite being unbelievably pissed with how this conversation was spiraling.

“Of course I did - why would you ever think I didn’t?”

“Well, it’s not like I could just up and leave Hawkins! What, did you think I’d just uproot my life and hop on a plane to come and like, watch you study?”

Tears were making your eyes burn again, your throat sore and heavy. You were tired, and frustrated, and maybe that's why you said what came next - still, no excuses could ever overcome the regret that would follow.

“Uproot your life? Be serious Steve - you couldn’t take a week off from your minimum wage job, chauffeuring a bunch of teenagers, and maybe being Daddy’s punching bag?”

The words tumbled out of your mouth, spat at him like venom, and you gasped as soon as you said it. You could feel the regret, immediate and heavy, filling your mouth and mind like the metallic taste of blood, threatening to drown you.

Steve’s eyes widened, and you could’ve sworn they were glistening, in a way that could only mean one thing. You immediately wanted to apologize, to take it back, but you knew that was impossible.

“Fuck you,” he said, voice icy.

“Steve, I -”

“Please get out of my house.”

His words were short and sharp, and he wasn’t even looking you in the eye anymore. He laughed, mirthlessly, as he ran a hand through his hair. You couldn’t help but notice that it was shaking.

“Yeah, okay,” you said quietly. You turned, and made a beeline for the door, slipping on your shoes as you shouldered on your coat. It was maybe the fastest you had ever done anything, desperate to remove yourself as soon as possible.

Steve still wasn’t looking at you, staring at the crackling fire, back slumped.

You stopped in the doorway, and after a moment, he turned to look at you. He was trying his hardest not to cry, to crumble, and an indescribable shame hit you. It was so visceral, it threatened to suffocate you.

“Steve,” you murmured. “I -”

“Don’t,” he said firmly. “I can’t - and to think that I -”

He shook his head, chuckling dryly as he stopped himself. “It doesn’t matter anymore, I guess. Have a nice Christmas.”

And that was it. You nodded, head hung in defeat as you headed out the door, slamming it behind you. And, that was the last time you saw Steve Harrington for over a year.

NOW, Winter 1988

A few hours after the incidental run-in at Family Video, you’re still curled up on your bed, nuzzled under the covers. It’s the middle of the afternoon, and there is so much to be done - Christmas is only a week away, and you have hardly prepared anything - no shopping, no decorating, no baking, nothing. Still, nothing stirs you from your sulking until you hear a gentle rap against your door.

“Mom, I told you -”

“It’s me,” Robin’s voice says from the other side. You just sigh, followed by a loud groan.

“Yeah, okay, I’m taking that as come in,” she says, swinging the door open and moving right in until she’s standing at the end of your bed, hands on her hips.

“Okay - what the fuck?”

You groan again, pulling the covers over your head and attempting to burrow down as far as you’re physically capable.

“Nope, uh-uh, none of that,” she says. You feel the mattress dip next to you, and the comforter is pulled back off of you.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you say, sitting up and crossing your arms.

“Yeah, well, you’ve got to - because my two best friends aren’t speaking, and can’t be in the same room as each other, apparently.”

You roll your eyes, then decide to meet Robin’s stare.

“Well, what do you want to know?” you ask, aware of how pouty and pathetic you probably sound.

“Well, what the fuck happened with you two? You guys were so close, and then Steve suddenly wouldn’t even bring up your name anymore - I mean, he was a mess all afternoon, after you left, and he won’t even talk to me about it -”

“We were sleeping together,” you say bluntly. Robin stops mid-sentence, her mouth hanging open.

“Oh - I, uh - wow.”

“Yep,” you say, starting to pick at the threads in your comforter.

“Um, when? How long? And why the hell didn’t you tell me? Sorry, shit, that’s making this about me, which it totally isn’t, but I’m just saying -”

“Okay, look - Robin, I promise, I’ll explain everything. But, promise me you’ll just listen, and - at least try to understand, okay?”

Robin nods, and crosses her legs on the bed, settling in for a while. You take a deep breath, and begin.

You tell her everything - that night at the party, the rekindling of your friendship, and something more; Steve taking your virginity, and the agreement that was forged between you two; your ongoing illicit affair, the break you took when you dated Dave; then, that fateful night last December, and the things said in that horrible argument, the words neither of you would ever be able to take back. You only leave out one part - when Steve had said he loved you. It doesn’t feel fair to tell anyone that, not even Robin - Steve himself doesn’t even remember saying it, after all. And, you explain how this is all part of why you didn’t come back to Hawkins this past summer, and extended your internship in New York - and why, once you graduate in May, you’ll probably stay there.

After all is said and done, Robin sits there for a moment, her face contemplative. You let her process it, think about it for a few minutes.

Then, she only says one thing.

“If you let that boy go over all of this, you’re a fucking idiot.”

You stare at her for a moment, then sag.

“I know.”

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lavendertales · 2 years ago

Text

Love is the devil—Javier Peña x f!reader

Chapter 15 of the Unholy series

summary: at Steve’s birthday party (and the celebration following Escobar’s demise), things get a little emotional for you and Javier—as well as tense.

word count: 5.3k

WARNINGS: brief mentions of PTSD; alcohol, soft & gentle Javi, allusions to masturbation & sex.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @joel-millerr

series masterlist | AO3

The blood spills all over your clothes, hands and feet, and fear courses through your veins. It freezes your body altogether, immobilizing your limbs as you watch the scene unfold for the millionth time. No matter what you do, you cannot stop the catastrophe from happening. You cannot stop the bloodshed, the pain, the horrific aftermath.

Even after you wake up, the sentiment remains deeply imbedded in your brain and bones alike, shaking you up completely.

You basically chug your coffee, in a lame attempt to rid yourself of the phantom sensation of Carrillo’s blood over you, but it doesn’t do much for you. It does warm up your extremities, though, so you take every little win you can.

The past three days have been buzzing with celebrations all over Colombia, as well as all over the world. The news that Pablo Escobar’s reign has come to an end took over the world, and you were undoubtedly eased as well. You heard about Trujillo and Steve’s heroic moment, how the two of them caught and executed Escobar on the spot, and you couldn’t have been prouder. Part of you does wonder how come Javier missed the once in a lifetime opportunity to be perceived as the third hero in this story, but you needn’t ask yourself too much why.

That time, you lost yourself. Although you would never have done it, your emotions ultimately prevailed, and you now sincerely regret it.

The raw truth is that your father was never there. You only saw him three or four times a year, and each time he gave you a quick hug before heading out again, leaving you in a state of confusion. You were alone when you were born, and you remain so today.

And it wasn’t fair to yourself, after all, to distort the image of a paternal figure to the point of pushing away the most influential and constant presence in your life. In the end, Javier was the one perpetual element you could always count on no matter what.

So when you return to the office, one sunny morning, you’re greeted by all your colleagues, equally enthused—perhaps for several reasons, not just your appearance.

“Are you back? Please tell me you’re back,” Sofia nearly begs, holding your hands into hers.

“I’ll be back on Monday. Although I’m not sure for what, now that Escobar is gone.”

“Well, the Cali cartel is gaining terrain and power, so that’s a whole other thing now. And—“

Sofia pauses, catching your attention. “What?” you ask.

“Oh. They—didn’t tell you.”

“Who’s ‘they’? And tell me what?”

“Okay. Uh… Javi was assigned as the lead for the Cali operation, and… he recommended Steve, me and you for the mission.”

The news surprises you in a way you wouldn’t have expected it, and you make no attempt at concealing that.

“He wanted Trujillo too, but he actually resigned yesterday, so,” Sofia goes on.

“Huh. So… the four of us are going to Cali?”

“We’re going to Cali.”

She hugs you briefly, missing out on the confused expression on your face as you scan the room. In this moment, as your anger has finally vanished completely, you seek Javier. Your eyes seek him out relentlessly, yet he seems nowhere to be found.

The next person to greet you is Steve. He also draws you closer for a hug that you happily reciprocate.

“How have you been?” he asks immediately.

“Better,” you say, and you believe yourself, finally feeling your words to be true. “Really better.”

“I’m glad to hear it. It’s been a rough couple of months for you, huh?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Listen, since I got you here… Connie and I were talking and we wanna do a little celebration at our place tonight. She may have insisted because of my birthday too, but… yeah, you know how it is. Happy wife, happy life.”

“It’s your birthday?”

“Yeah, it’s this weekend.”

You hug him again, truly happy to feel like you have made at least a couple of friends throughout your time in Colombia. “I’ll be there,” you tell him with a smile on your face.

“I should probably warn you, Javi’s coming, too.”

You hold your breath, and it’s probably visible on your face, but it is way past playing pretend with Steve.

“That’s okay,” you concede. “I figured he would.”

“You sure it’s okay?”

“Yes. Worst comes to worst, I’ll sit in a corner with Sofia and Connie.”

“You’re still not on speaking terms, I take it.”

“About that, uh… is he around? I haven’t seen him.”

Steve’s eyebrows lift in surprise as he looks around. “He was here like two hours ago. But then again, he stayed throughout the night, so he might’ve left to sleep.”

Your brows crease in confusion, yet you do not ask for more. You can only speculate the reason behind Javier’s habit of pulling all-nighters again. Was he avoiding you? Probably not on purpose, but it certainly did create quite a beneficial side effect.

You decide not to overthink anything. For now, you try to take one thing at a time.

“There’ll be alcohol, by the way,” Steve informs you like he had just read your mind.

Your face lightens up and you even sport a dashing smile across your face. “Perfect,” you joke.

But not really.

Because you will need booze if you have to spend the entire celebration evening with your coworkers and Javier lurking about.

The thing about your family is… you’ve never really had one.

Your grandmother, may she rest in peace, was the one who took care of you, cooked for you, helped you with homework and everything else in between. She was both a mother and a father to you, so when she passed away, you were heartbroken, to say the least. That’s when you decided to do something useful with your life, to fight like she fought for you. So you began your training and later joined the DEA office in New York.

You didn’t know your mother. She left you and your father when you were born, and you never heard from her again. You tried to track her down over the years though, and eventually managed to get some information about her, but you never spoke to her. She felt too far out of reach, too much of a stranger to begin having a relationship now. When you heard she passed away, it wasn’t that traumatic, though it carried no shortness of pain and guilt. At least for a little while.

And your father… well. Now that you have the full picture, you see your childhood in the clearest picture possible. He tried, when you were still a toddler, to be there and do everything, but he always struggled with money. Your grandmother managed to put food on the table thanks to her rather generous pension, but your father could not stand the idea of being the man of the house and having his own mother still provide for him and his child. So he went traveling for a few weeks, only to return a completely changed man. He was in a better mood, seemed healthier and happier, and proudly announced that he found a job as a traveling salesman. You remember the moment he had cupped your cheeks and told you, with happy tears in his eyes, that neither of you will have to struggle again. He told you that you will have everything you need, and that he will take care of it.

From thereon after, you only saw him three, four times a year, maybe five if you were lucky.

So you were never close with him either. The only family you ever know, your grandmother, passed away peacefully after you graduated from college. The timing had been perfect, come to think of it: you had been trying to figure out what to do afterwards, and when you bid your goodbye to her, it hit you. You knew what you had to do.

You’ve thought about your life from every possible angle for the past few weeks, every single day, without fail. The anger you once felt has evaporated, much like a boulder has been lifted from your shoulders, no longer forcing you to carry such a heavy burden. There was only understanding and regret to be felt.

And a certain type of yearning that almost felt debilitating in its complexity.

You both dreaded and longed to see Javier tonight. More so because you wanted to make things right, express your understanding of his choice, and, most importantly, let him know that you would’ve followed the same course of action.

It wasn’t even about duty per se. It was about doing the right thing. And Javier did the right thing.

So you take a deep breath now as you finish applying your makeup and give your outfit one last look in the mirror in an effort to calm your worries and clear your mind. There is no denying your nervousness.

You start to create a mental picture of Javier, trying to recall every detail of him because it feels like eternity has passed since you last saw him. You can still picture his full lips, moustache, and light stubble, which tickle just right when he is tucked in between your legs. You can also picture his brown, gentle eyes that get dark with lust, his brown hair that is so lovely to pull, and his aquiline nose.

And your craving feels insatiable at this very moment.

It is no simple carnal desire. It stretches far beyond that; it’s a desire to hold close, to have and appreciate the one constant you’ve had throughout your life. You want him to understand everything about you lately, and you want to apologize, to be held in his arms again.

You wonder what he’ll wear tonight. Those tightly fit jeans that make your eyes follow his silhouette around? Paired with his trademark leather jacket, perhaps? Chances are yes, but regardless of what he’ll be wearing, you’ll be eyeing him up and down still. Waiting, wondering, craving.

You carefully place the bottle of wine in the gift bag, grab your purse and hit the road, taking a cab. You reason that since there will be drinking during the party, you will undoubtedly require a ride home.

There’s more people on the street like never before, and you know well the reason why. You’ve never seen people in town be happier. All they’ve done was be subjugated and barely allowed to mourn their loved ones, and naturally, now that Escobar’s reign of terror was over, people felt a little more confident walking on the streets after dark. There was a new threat, namely the Cali cartel that was rapidly rising to power, but for now, the people could be allowed to celebrate.

“Aquí estamos, señora.”

You struggle to ignore the fact that the driver addressed you as “ma’am” as you pay the driver and proceed to Connie and Steve’s apartment. You recall your encounter with Javier the last time you were there, as well as the unexpectedly pleasurable events that ensued.

When you knock on the door, you hear the music booming from beyond it, and the indistinct chit-chatter of those already present. You’ve made it an hour and a half later than the agreed upon hour, but it seems you arrived right on time. When Steve opens and welcomes you in, you already see Connie and Sofia giggling next to the couch, their cheeks crimson-flushed; Trujillo is there as well, immersed into a conversation with one of the FBI guys, Hugo, and finally—

“Hi,” Javier greets you, barely able to hold your glare.

“Hi,” you reply.

Unbeknownst to you, Connie makes a shocked face somewhere in the back, immediately joining Steve.

“Whoa!” he exclaims, examining the bottle of wine you brought. “This is an expensive brand.”

“Well, I got the money for it.”

“Did you rob a bank or—?”

You chuckle. “We have the same job.”

“Yeah, but nobody joins the DEA for the financial benefits.”

“I don’t really go out or buy things, so I thought you should have something nice.”

“Very much appreciated.”

He gives you another hug before expressing pain as Connie snatches his arm and turns him in her direction.

“Are you insane?!” she whispers maddened.

You have enough decency to pretend like you don’t hear them, even though you already know the reason for all the hush-hush business.

“Ow!” Steve whispers back. “What?”

“You invited both of them tonight?! There’s gonna be a bloodbath in here!”

“I told her Javi’s gonna be here, she said it’s fine. They’re grownups, they can handle it.”

“Yeah, but—“

“I double checked with her, it’s fine!”

“Uh, excuse me,” you smile at them, “not to burst your little bubble, you’re doing great at hiding in it, but I’m fine. We’re here to celebrate Steve’s birthday and the fact that he and Trujillo ended Escobar, so that’s what we will do.”

Connie squeezes your hand, smiling at you just as Sofia joins your side and clings to your arm.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Connie offers.

When you make eye contact with Javier, on complete mishap, you quiver.

“Please,” you tell her, and both the girls giggle.

That’s exactly what you do: you hold your wine in one hand while, ostensibly, holding Sofia close to you in the other. Her flushed cheeks and the warmth that emanates from her and onto you are both indicators that she is already tipsy.

“Are you okay?” you ask her, somewhat amused.

“We finally get to relax a bit,” she exhales. “I am ready to kick back, drink and have fun.”

You suddenly recall the last time you went out with Sofia and she said the same expression, more or less, and you stifle your giggle.

“Just mind which palate cleanser you pick tonight,” you seemingly warn. “There’s four guys here tonight, and one of them is spoken for.”

Connie raises her brows, exchanging a surprised look with Sofia. They both stare at your afterwards. “What about Javi?” Sofia asks.

“What about him?”

“Oh, please! You’ve been here for two minutes and he cannot stop staring at you!” Connie practically laughs. “And you’re sneaking glances at him, too! Would you just quit this nonsense and talk it out? I know it’s been rough between you two, but I think—“

“Speaking of which, whatever happened with you and Javi? I never found out,” Sofia says with an adorable pout grazing her lips. “It’s unfair.”

You hesitate for a brief moment, unsure if you should go around spreading such a personal affair to people, but you’ve grown close to Sofia. You know you can trust her. Besides, what does it matter now? The deed is consumed.

And the worst is over.

“As it turns out, my dad was working for Escobar and, during one of the earlier missions, three years ago, Javier killed him. He was following Carrillo’s orders, and my dad was… ruthless. He had no choice. And he did the right thing.”

Sofia nods along your story, taking the occasional sip from her wine, while Connie reaches around your shoulders to hug you.

“That’s—a lot,” Sofia concludes. “I’m so sorry to hear that, I—“

“It’s fine. Really. I was never close with either him or my mom, so. No harm, no foul. Definitely no real loss.”

Both of them hug you, and Javier catches the scene unfold from across the room. The moment tugs at his heart, making him feel like someone’s dragging it through gravel. He respects your personal space and he does his absolute best to keep his distance from you, and that is no easy task.

You’re… fuck. You’re as gorgeous as ever. The makeup, the way those jeans embrace your legs and your ass, the way you’re stealing the occasional glance down his way… fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s on the verge of a breakdown, and the fact that you are essentially forbidden fruit makes it all the more enticing.

But he meant it. He won’t go near you, not unless you want him to.

By the looks of it, you might never want to. You’re mentally throwing daggers at him just with your eyes. Who knows what will happen if you’ll truly be in his vicinity?

“So you’re really okay being here tonight?” Sofia checks with you.

“I’m fine. And even if I weren’t, thank goodness for alcohol.”

“Yeah, that’s what you need right now, alcohol.”

You frown at the sarcastic remark. “What do you mean?”

“Tension is thick as hell. Simmer down with the alcohol, babe.”

You turn to Connie instead, but you find her nodding along.

“There’s no tension, I said I’m fine.”

“I don’t think that’s the kind of tension she meant,” Connie clarifies.

You take a deep breath, the air nearly choking you instead. You reckon they are both right. You feel it in the depths your bones; each time you catch a glimpse of Javier on the other side of the room, it stirs something inside of you that is absolutely unhinged and needy.

However, tonight is not the time to share with Javier all of your most personal, inner thoughts and feelings. Tonight is about Steve and his significant professional achievement, which you will celebrate with your coworkers and friends. Rest is not urgent.

You move around, talking to everyone; Steve, Sofia, Connie, Trujillo, even Hugo and one of Connie’s friends from work, Maria. Two hours, four glasses of wine, two of whiskey and two shots of tequila later, you are drunk enough to let your intrusive thoughts win.

You were right. Keeping your eyes off Javier was impossible, even more so when he’s wearing exactly what you had predicted, and seemingly got a haircut, too. Fuck. You had to remember, with each step you take, that you are not in the right state of mind for a confrontation, or even a sincere conversation. All you want right now is to be alone with him, but this is not the time or place for it.

You have to keep it together.

You finish laughing at one of Trujillo’s jokes and head to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water. You need some clearance of mind. You’re already drunker than you would’ve thought.

A gasp escapes past your lips when you bump into Javier’s chest, some water spilling on the floor. You stare wide-eyed at him, holding your breath. He seems to be doing the same, and it’s baffling you.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.”

“Here.”

He hands you a tissue to clean the dribbling water on your jaw, but when you fail to take it, he dabs it gently on your skin, eyes focused on the task at hand and thus failing to notice your own, searching his in return.

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“I should—go.”

You catch his wrist, and you manage to see the bewildered expression on his face. He clearly hadn’t expected it, but he’s not pulling away. He doesn’t ask you anything. He simply watches you, utterly enthralled and disarmed, curious as to what your next move is.

You don’t say anything either. You stare at each other for what feels like the longest time, the only thing you are capable of hearing are his irregular breaths, as well as your own. The music’s vibration reverberates through you still, the alcohol swimming carelessly through your veins as your inhibitions drop drastically. Each glance you steal at Javier makes your stomach churn even more, and you could not possibly hate yourself more for craving him more than you do right at this very moment.

He looks so damn fine it’s nearly painful. Especially with that worried look on his face, those big, brown eyes gone soft at the simple sight of you, it’s—it’s too much. It’s the most relaxed you’ve felt in weeks, but ironically, the most tense you’ve felt in who knows how long.

You need some relief. Badly.

Tonight, of all nights, you know that falling apart on your own hand won’t be enough. Your fingers desperately trying to recreate Javier’s grip and subsequent touch has proven to not be enough in the past, and certainly not the same. While you’ve barely addressed him since you got here nearly four hours ago and he hasn’t either, the tension has grown to be painfully thick.

With the right stimulus, Javier could be easily persuaded. You just have to push the right button.

You take his hand into his, and Javier holds his breath, unable to think anymore. That simple gesture makes him crumble on the spot. What’s more worrisome is the fact that he would follow you blindly anywhere, and he’s known this ever since college.

It takes him a while to realize you’re both in what’s probably the guest bedroom in Connie and Steve’s apartment. You shut the door behind you, giving him a glare that’s longing, and borderline aching. Javier licks his lower lip, still curious as to what your next move is, even though he can clearly see that you’ve been drinking.

Before he gets in a word edgewise, you blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind.

“I’m sorry.”

Javier looks bewildered at you, waiting for something more. He’s painfully aware of the fact that you’re still holding his hand and it doesn’t make things any easier.

“For what?” he asks, truly confused.

“Last time we spoke, I—I said something I shouldn’t have. I hurt you, I didn’t—“

You finally feel how drunk you truly are, and that’s probably why you’re so emotional right now, tears stinging your eyes, but you don’t care. This is long overdue, and you both need this. You both deserve it.

“I didn’t wanna hurt you,” you say. “I mean I did, but… I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. Don’t be. I deserved it.”

“No. I wasn’t gonna do this now, or here… but I can’t… I can’t not do it. I can’t stay away from you. I lashed out, I overreacted, I know, I—“

Javier lets go of your hand only to grab your shoulders, so gently you could cry on the spot. “You reacted the way anyone would.”

You frantically shake your head as you look at him with the same desperation in your eyes and hunger for understanding and forgiveness for all of your transgressions.

“No, you don’t get it,” you try not to slur your words. “I didn’t even know him. It was some… sick, twisted illusion, but… he wasn’t there. Neither was my mom. They were never there. The only constant that I’ve ever known was my grandma… and you.”

He coos your name, in the same soft manner, and it doesn’t help you one bit. If anything, it incites you even further, creating a more chaotic concoction of chemicals and emotions inside of you.

“You’re the only one who got me,” you go on. “Ever. You’re the only who—you’re the only thing I want. The only one. And I cannot, for the life of me, stay away from you. It’s—worrying. Worrisome? Worry?”

Javier grins a little, unable to hide his admiration for how cute you look after a few drinks.

“We do have a tendency to revolve around each other,” he seemingly agrees.

“Well obviously! I mean… just look at me!”

The look in his eyes is something along the lines of I am unable to look away from you, but you are too drunk to pick up on that.

“I obviously got both mommy and daddy issues, and the other issue is that I am hopelessly and annoyingly in love with you!”

With the music still blasting in the background, Javier could’ve easily blamed that for mishearing you. His heart is fluttering in his chest, threatening to burst out at any given moment.

He coos your name again, a sudden craving emerging in his voice’s undertone, and that you pick up on.

“Javier,” you coo in return. “I do, you know? I do love you.”

“Don’t—don’t do this to me.”

“What?”

You notice he’s keeping his eyes closed, attempting to hide whatever inner battle is going on inside of him, yet you only approach him further, if even possible. You need to have him as close as possible after all of that time apart.

“Don’t do this to me now, here,” he repeats. “I can’t—don’t tempt me.”

Javier’s so close now you can count of all his eyelashes, his warm breath tickling your face—and your senses alike.

“I want you,” you say, and it’s consuming you just to say the words. “Please? Please.”

The more he says your name, the more he calls out to you, making it impossible for you to resist. It’s temptation at its finest, wrapped in the most alluring package you have ever laid your eyes upon.

Which is why you don’t think twice when your hand traces on his chest, tantalizingly slow for someone who’s not so coordinated right now, and reaches at the back of his head to pull him in, just as your lips meet with his. It feels like it’s been far too long since you’ve had a proper taste of him, and you crumble right then and there. You fall apart in his mouth as the kiss deepens, with Javier’s body pressed against the door. Both your brains are scrambled with desire, fogged up and unable to think straight.

Heat runs through your body, blood boiling in your veins when Javier’s hands grab your hips and pull you in closer, gluing your body to his. Your arms are both around his neck, your mouth slowly devouring his, and vice versa. You decide to get a bit bolder as you separate to draw in more air into your lungs, and start unbuttoning his shirt. Your vision’s blurry but your fingers know your way around his body better than anything. You’re surprised when his fingers catch yours and put a stop to your torture.

“We shouldn’t,” he tells you, although there is a huge knot in his throat that nearly makes him choke.

“Javier, please. I miss you, I miss… feeling you.”

God, he cannot resist you. He simply can’t. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you, but the moment isn’t what he’d prefer for your reunion.

He takes your hands into his, holding them close to his chest, now teasingly exposed to you, and looks at you like he’s having the toughest battle inside of his head.

“Don’t take this to mean I don’t want to,” he tells you, and he genuinely sounds like he’s falling apart. “Believe me, I—I do. I’d slide inside you and make you cum as many times as I possibly can. I’d fuck you until tomorrow, till you can’t walk properly and you’re dripping with me.”

Breathless, your eyes drop to his neck, thinking how much you’d love to hear him moan under the weight of your fiery kisses.

“You—can,” you tell him.

“You’re upset and you’re drunk. It’s not right.”

You frown like a child being denied its favorite treat. You hate how reasonable he is, and how sweet he’s being.

“Do you know that being sweet about it makes it worse?”

“How?”

“Because now I want you more.”

Javier chuckles, admitting that deciding to stay apart from you is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, particularly when you’re asking him so nicely, your voice calling him out like a siren ready to devour her prey. You’re not having the best night, so his choice is the proper thing to do. Succumbing to your sweetly enunciated craving would have been a treat if you had been sober and, let’s face it, still a little angry with him. Given how upset and frustrated he’s been, he would not have hesitated to fuck you right then and there, but seeing how difficult it is for you to stand up straight tells him that he is undoubtedly making the correct decision.

“How about I take you home? Is that okay?” he checks.

You nod and he takes your hand in his, guiding you out of the bedroom, searching for your jacket. You both bid goodbye to everyone present, and Javier figures there will be plenty of talk about that, but he doesn’t care. He cares about you, and getting you home safe is his number one priority.

“Oh, oh,” you mumble, threatening to buckle over. You close your eyes in order to embrace the fall, but then, all you feel is warmth and softness.

You look up and see Javier’s face close again, realizing moments later you’re in his arms and he’s placing you carefully in the backseat of his Jeep.

“You good?” he asks.

You nod, but before he lets you stretch in the backseat, you pull him by the jacket’s collar and press your lips on his again. It’s softer this time, a sign of gratitude that Javier fully embraces this time.

The ride back to your place is smooth and silent, though you did fall asleep several times. You only wake up when you’re in Javier’s arms again, swiftly realizing he’s carrying you on the stairs to the apartment.

“Where are your keys?” he asks.

You smile mischievously, licking your lips and staring at him in the most adorable way he’s ever seen in anyone.

“Guess you’ll have to frisk me to find out,” you giggle.

Javier rolls his eyes, bemused. “Don’t think I won’t do it.”

“I’m hoping you will. It’s the most action I got in a while.”

Javier puts you down closer to the wall to ensure you got some balance in you. He checks your jacket first, mind preoccupied.

“Honestly, me too,” he says out of the blue.

It takes you a good minute to understand what he’s telling you, and when realization hits you, it carries no shortage of surprise.

“Wait, seriously?” you ask.

“Yeah, why?”

“Because you’re—you. You’re great in bed, you have your lady friends…”

Your eyes meet his again, and his seem filled with regret. Suddenly, your stomach drops, and you wish you hadn’t asked that because you feel a wave of jealousy washing over you.

“Did you—?” you start, and halfway through acknowledge the fact that you cannot finish the question.

“No,” he quips sharply. “I thought it’s what I needed, something meaningless and fast, but it wasn’t.”

He recalls the exact moment when he came home to Gabriella, her smile and excitement visible in her body language. He also recalls how he excused himself to her, explained the situation, and offered to drive her back home. He recalls the apology he issued for making her drive across town for nothing, and her advice to him as she bid him goodbye for good.

Fight for her.

“What do you need then?”

He feels starved as he looks at you, eyes darkened by that lust that always drove you both past the edges of sanity and professionalism.

“Didn’t I make it clear back at the party?” he grazes his thumb over your bottom lip, and for the briefest of seconds, you feel a different kind of drunk. “Tú. Sólo tú, cariño.”

Only you, honey.

“I guess this means taking a raincheck on that ‘fucking you till tomorrow’ business?”

It’s a silly question, laced with a dangerous playfulness, but if there’s anyone who loves that, it’s Javier.

His fingers graze your cheek delicately, turning you to look at him, and God it hurts to keep your legs together from how overstimulated you feel.

“Whatever you need, you can have it,” he whispers. “Anything, everything. But sober.”

You kiss him again, and again, and until you run out of breath, until the only scent invading your nostrils is his cologne and him, musky and earthy and home-like.

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shemarmooresfedora · 4 years ago

Text

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: pure fluff and a happy ending as promised :)

A/N: the final chapter 😭❤️ see my full note at the end

Masterlist

Chapter 37

“What’s your location? Over,” the walkie talkie on the kitchen counter crackled.

“Dino chicken nuggets are coming out of the oven as we speak. Over,” you replied back.

“Roger that. Over and out,” Jo stated and the walkie talkie went back to static.

Spencer got them as a gift for her and she would constantly have one with her, giving the other to someone before leaving the room so they could talk through it.

You headed out to the back porch and down the steps into the yard with a big plate of nuggets and dipping sauces as well as some juice boxes and applesauce for the twins.

“Coast is clear. Do you copy? Over,” you spoke into the walkie talkie.

“Affirmative. Bring ‘em up,” Jo exited the main part of the treehouse and you saw her on its little porch.

Spencer had built her a little pulley system with a basket and rope so she could lower or raise items up into the treehouse instead of carrying them up the ladder.

You placed the food and drinks inside and then made your way up the wooden ladder.

“Thank you, Mommy,” Jo smiled as she bit into a nugget.

“No problem, Cadet Jo,” you ruffled her hair up a little as she giggled.

You ducked to get through the door of the treehouse and sat down on a cushion on the floor next to Spencer who had both the twins in his lap.

“What are we watching?” you asked as you clipped the twins’ bibs on.

“Cars!” Jo cheered.

“I wanted to watch a subtitled Russian film but I was ‘boo’ed when I made that suggestion,” Spencer grinned as he grabbed the spoon to start feeding the babies.

“Hm I wonder why,” you teased.

Once Jo got the movie playing on the laptop, she took a seat in your lap with the plate of nuggets and took turns eating one, then handing one to you, then Spencer.

Once all the kids were fast asleep in your laps and the credits were rolling, you turned to Spencer.

“You and Derek really did a good job building this treehouse, love,” you complimented him.

“Anything for my family,” he smiled, then leaned over to kiss you.

It was the morning of Jo’s 8th birthday party. You wanted to make it extra special in light of what happened at her 7th birthday party.

Spencer kept reminding you that it wasn’t your fault a psychopath shot you and sent you to the hospital but you just wanted to give Jo the party she deserves.

You rented a bouncy house and an inflatable water slide. Spencer was doing a magic show and Penelope was doing face paintings. You baked a huge stegosaurus-shaped cake from scratch. No kid would be bored and Jo would have an amazing time.

You settled for having it in your backyard instead of the park now that you had plenty of room. The whole team came over earlier to help set up.

Penelope got all her paints organized on the porch table as Spencer set up his mini stage for the performance. Hotch and Derek filled the slide with water while you and Emily carefully brought the massive cake to the table outside.

Jo came running outside already in her swimsuit, eager to get the first splash in the water slide.

“You have to come with me, Uncle Derek,” she insisted.

“Jo, I don’t have my swimsuit on,” he replied.

“You’re in athletic shorts. They’ll dry quick,” Savannah, his girlfriend, yelled from where she was setting up the food table.

Derek looked to Hotch to help him out. Hotch pointed back to Jo who was giving him puppy dog eyes.

“Fine,” he groaned, taking off his shirt which elicited a holler from Penelope.

Jo made her way up the steps with Derek right behind her.

Jo sat down in Derek’s lap and then turned around to face him.

“Okay, ready?” she asked him.

Derek nodded and then pushed off, sending them both down the slippery slide.

“Weee!” Jo exclaimed as they slid down.

“Again,” she demanded, “Where’s Daddy?”

“He went to put his swimsuit on, Baby J, so he can go with you,” you told her as you set Ollie down next to Ophelia in the playpen outside.

“Coming, Princess!” Spencer ran outside and scooped the little girl up in his arms as he trekked up the steps.

“How about we go down like a penguin this time?” he suggested.

Jo nodded enthusiastically as Spencer got onto his belly and Jo laid on top of him and wrapped her hands around his neck.

“1…2…3!” Spencer pushed off and they raced down the slide again, Jo giggling the whole time.

“Again!” Jo said.

“I think we are going to have to buy one of these, love,” Spencer called over to you, laughing and running up the stairs right behind Jo again.

“Please welcome my lovely assistant to the stage,” Spencer spoke in his magician tuxedo.

You waved as the audience clapped. You were wearing a sparkly red sequin dress to compliment Spencer’s bow tie.

“I am going to make my assistant…disappear,” he stated.

The kids in the audience gasped.

Spencer took your hand and guided you to the big black box in the center of the stage.

“Just like we practiced,” he whispered to you as you stepped inside.

You winked and he kissed your hand as he let go and closed the door.

Spencer knocked on the door a few times and wiggled his hands for some showmanship.

“Okay, on the count of 3. We’re all going to yell ‘Abracadabra’,” Spencer explained, “1…2…3!”

“Abracadabra!” all the kids yelled.

Spencer set off a small smoke bomb and quickly opened the door, revealing an empty box.

The kids all screamed in wonder.

“Bring Mommy back!” Jo yelled.

You had to stifle your laughter from behind the fake wall in the box you were hiding behind.

“Your wish is my command, Princess,” Spencer closed the door again.

“To reverse the spell, we need to say the exact same word,” Spencer stated.

“Abracadabra!” the kids yelled once again.

This time, you opened the door and the kids clapped enthusiastically.

“For this next trick, I need a volunteer from the audience,” Spencer smiled.

All the kids’ hands shot up in the air.

“I’m going to have to go with the wonderful birthday girl right in the front row,” you took Jo’s hand and escorted her up onto the stage.

“Jo, I need you to pick a card, any card. Show the audience but not me,” Spencer fanned the cards out in his hands and closed his eyes.

Jo picked the ace of hearts and showed the audience.

“Now, put it back in the pile,” he said.

“Alright,” Spencer opened his eyes and began to shuffle the cards, “Is this your card?” he asked, holding the eight of spades.

“No, Daddy. Try again,” Jo said.

“Is this it?” he questioned, holding the queen of diamonds.

“No, Daddy.”

“Oh,” Spencer smacked his forehead, “I know where I put it,” he pulled off his top hat.

Spencer then proceeded to pull a bouquet of flowers, an endless handkerchief, a rubber chicken, and many other silly things out of his hat that had the kids in tears from laughing.

Finally, he pulled out the ace of hearts, “Is this your card, Princess?”

“Yes, Daddy!” she beamed, hugging him.

Jo’s birthday was a complete success. She was completely worn out by the end of it and slept in late the next morning.

But when she did finally wake, she was eager to try out her gift that you and Spencer had gotten her: a big kid bike with no training wheels. It was purple which was her favorite color with a white basket on the front and a little bell on the handlebars.

You and Spencer were going to teach her how to ride it today. She padded up with some knee pads and elbow pads and her helmet.

You had the twins in their double stroller with mini bucket hats on to protect them from the sun.

“Okay, Jo. Me and Daddy will run with you for a little but then we’re going to let go but you’re going to keep pedaling,” you explained to her.

“I’m scared,” she replied, looking at the street in front of her.

You were practicing in the street in front of your house because it wasn’t very busy and it was flat. Plus, you could leave the twins in the stroller in the driveway.

“It’s okay, Baby J. You’ve got all your padding on so even if you fall, it won’t hurt at all, I promise,” you assured her.

“I believe in you, Princess,” Spencer kissed her helmet-covered head.

“I’m ready,” she nodded, moving her feet to the pedals.

“That’s my girl,” you smiled.

You and Spencer began to jog alongside her as she pedaled.

Spencer looked at you, “Okay, Princess. We’re letting go.”

You and Spencer both removed your hands from her bike and she continued to speed forward.

“Yes, Jo! You’re doing it! ” you encouraged her.

“Princess, can you turn around and come back to me and Mommy?” Spencer asked.

Jo carefully steered her bike and headed back to you both with a massive smile on her face. You and Spencer were loudly cheering her on.

“Okay, try to brake,” you said.

Jo slowly came to a stop right in between you both.

“You’re a pro!” you grinned as you both knelt down to hug her.

Jo had been biking for the past hour and she was still having a blast.

You and Spencer were laying in the front yard with the twins in your laps.

“Mommy, Daddy! Look!” Jo exclaimed as she did donuts on the bike.

“We’re looking, Baby J,” you laughed, “Great job!”

You leaned your head on Spencer’s shoulder.

“Y/N…” Spencer began.

“Yes, Spence?”

“Thank you,” he replied.

“For what?” you looked up at him.

“All this,” he motioned to Jo, the twins, the house, the yard, the chalk drawings on the driveway, the rocking chairs on the front porch, the doormat that said ‘The Reids’, everything he ever dreamed of, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you kissed him, “I’d give you the world if I could.”

“You already have,” he smiled.

A/N: thank you everyone so so so much for reading, commenting, reblogging, etc.! i love you all so much. i’m probably going to miss this too much and do one-shots of this series in the future. also, this series hit 14,000 on ao3! that’s crazy that that many people read my work. thank you, just thank you! -dory <3

main taglist (just ask to be added/removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @babymetaldoll @fics4arainyday @ssavanessa22 @all-tings-diego @idonotexiste @beepbooptoop @tvandfanfic @mggsprettygirl @big-galaxy-chaos @navs-bhat

series taglist: @doctorreiding @reidsfish

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #reid x reader #cm fic #cm fanfic #dad!spencer

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bistevethor · 4 years ago

Text

Steve Rogers Fanfiction Recommendations

Happy birthday, Steve!

I know that there are some (a lot?) of steve fans who sometimes struggle to find fics focused on him, so I am here now putting a list of Steve fics. I was going to fics that I haven't seen recommended a lot and most of the ones on this post have less than 200 kudos only, but I end up putting everything (it's probably easier to put my bookmarks as public but well...). It's a massive list (over 100 fics?), so it's will be separated into several posts/reblogs.

Not all of them are from Steve's POV or even have him as the main 'main' character, but rest assured he played an important role and is featured heavily. Lots of these are friendship-focused but I categorized them. The shippy ones are mostly samsteve, thundershield, and some rare pairings because I don't venture to other ships a lot and when I did it's to the rare ones instead lol. Hopefully, any of you can find some gems from this list and these are as enjoyable or as good as I remembered. I'll continue to update it, hopefully, every time I find new ones.

Fics are under read more.

General

The Rocket's Red Glare

Steve was born on the Fourth of July (no joke), so a party is in order! Unfortunately, PTSD decides to rear its ugly head. Fortunately, Steve's got an entire team at his back to help him through it. And screaming goats.

an entry in the scrapbook of absurdity

In which Steve turns into a baby and bites people.

Baby Steve Adventures

Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him.

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't)

"Dragr," Thor called them. "Demons" Clint had said. "Thieves" is what Steve labels them as. AKA, the one where Steve is captured by creatures that feed off of happy memories, and the team is left to pick up the pieces. Post-Avengers.

In Search of (Bucky, Family, Home)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

A week following the events of CATWS, Steve recruits Natasha and Sam to help find Bucky.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to recap again? You were shot three times, beaten near to death by an enhanced super soldier with a metal arm and then almost drowned. Yeah, your ass is going to need a few more days of healing time.”

The Truth When Captains Meet

Steve Rogers wakes up on an alien’s space ship being carried bridal style by Carol Danvers. As far as first meetings go, it’s memorable.

Irish Coffee

Pairings: Jessica Jones & Steve Rogers

Jessica runs into an incognito Cap at a cafe. They form an unlikely friendship of sorts.

The Lifetimes of Steve Rogers (Series)

What happens when Steve Rogers steps onto the quantum platform to return the Stones? Where does he go? What challenges does he find? Who does he meet? How many lifetimes can one man have?

Fifty-Two Pickup

Less than a week after the fall of the Triskelion, Steve Rogers is released from the hospital. Although his physical wounds are almost fully healed, other injuries need a bit more time, and some help from friends.

little kids get big so fast

Steve ends up having to take care of the deaged Defenders.

Grampa Steve's Bedtime Stories

If Mommy was away for work, then Morgan’s Grampa Steve came over to stay with her. He’d tuck her in, let her give Mommy a kiss on video chat, then hand her the picture of Daddy for his kiss. Once Daddy’s picture was back on the bookshelf, Grampa Steve would turn off the bedside lamp so that Miss Friday could cover the ceiling with stars, and ask Morgan what story she wanted to hear.

“Captain Steve, Grampa! Tell me Captain Steve!”

Grampa Steve sometimes read to her from books and other times watched a movie with her, but her favorite by far was when he told her Captain Steve’s Adventures Through the Multiverse.

On Camping Trips

Sam is more Hermione than Natasha is, and Steve doesn't want to be Harry.

Powerful

Steve loses the advantages of the super-soldier serum. This is not a tragedy.

His Dream

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze.

"Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic."

"Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.

The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum."

Realization clicked in Sam's head.

"The gas de-serumed you."

Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

OR: Steve gets temporarily de-serumed, with his height and stature staying the same but his immune system being as bad as it was before, and has to stay in the hospital to prevent a severe allergic reaction or illness. Sam stays with him the whole time, making sure he's not alone.

A Strange Encounter

Things have gone awry and Strange is injured. With no other options, he's called for assistance from Captain America and his team.

even if we're apart, i'll always be with you

Steve finds a dirty toy bear at an abandoned gas station, on the way back from a school trip. He brings him home.

As Long as You’re Not Tired Yet of Talking

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

When Steve Rogers tells her, “Don’t be a stranger,” as they’re all going their own ways after New York, it makes her want to laugh.

Draw/Breath

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Natasha like knowing what makes people tick. She likes knowing things, about her teammates and her coworkers and herself. Oddly enough, sometimes other people like knowing her too.

AKA: Natasha wants to know why Steve isn’t drawing anymore, and takes the long way round to get her answer. Because why not.

With Magic We Do Fly

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

In Civil War we see Wanda fling Steve into the air with her magic. They must have practiced that, right?

Que Wanda throwing Steve against a wall. Many times.

Just Like We Practiced

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

Steve had said, in the movie when he asked Wanda to lift him into the building, "Just like we practiced." But just how did they come up with the idea of her lifting people with her powers, and putting them up somewhere like an escalator? Perhaps it was because Wanda accidentally sent a certain tall, blond Avenger face-first into the floor once and he decided he would help her learn to utilize this as a confidence building exercise. Natasha keeps an eye, Thor and Sam help build the training grounds, and Wanda has found her new home. Takes place between AGE OF ULTRON and CIVIL WAR.

Black and White but Red and Blue

They're watching black and white film reels, but Steve sees them in colour.

"My shield may be black and white but it was red and blue. Just like the blue sky under which red blood was spilled. Like Bucky's blue eyes and Peggy's red lips..."

The Road Warriors

Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff

It wasn't pretty, but somehow the four of them managed to make it through two years on the run.

We'll Fix It

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Steve has a hard time after his battle with The Winter Soldier and isn't sure what to do with himself. After not seeing him for a week, Natasha finally shows up to his apartment unannounced to figure out how they can get back to work. There is some crying involved.

From Here On Out

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

The Accords, the search for Bucky, the fight at the airport ... In a world where nothing will ever be the same, sometimes the road to rebuilding trust and friendship is a little rockier than it should be.

AKA, the story of Steve & Natasha and how they got to where they are.

Set post-Civil War but pre-Infinity War.

I have this breath and I hold it tight

Parings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Vision

Steve finally goes to Wanda’s tiny room and taps on the doorframe, although it’s hardly necessary, with the slightly warped floorboards creaking under his feet. “Hey,” he says. “Got a minute?”

Wanda's been a little withdrawn since Steve broke everyone out of the Raft. She's had a lot to think about.

to you.

Pairings: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Tony Stark

It's Wanda's birthday today. She's not sure how to feel.

New Love

Pairings: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Steve Rogers

Near the end of World War II, Diana Prince finds herself attempting to reconnect to her long-gone, beloved Steve Trevor. However, she comes across Steve Rogers instead.

Sharing Life (And Canned Green Beans)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

It’s Thanksgiving, and Steve is hiding in the second living room on the 8th floor of the penthouse apartments with a can of green beans.

I'm Fine

Steve slowly began to realize that the problem with being a national icon, a hero, and a role model, is that somehow, he became more than human. He become a symbol, not a person. So when he becomes increasingly unhappy, deeply depressed, and utterly adrift in a world where he doesn't belong, the loneliness and isolation are unbearable. How could anyone believe that an iconic hero like himself was really just an ordinary kid from Brooklyn, dying inside because everything he'd gained still wasn't enough to replace everything he'd lost? How could he possibly bring himself to bleed on the ones he loves? So he tells himself the same lie over and over, hoping one day, he'll believe it.

dogpile

"My dog ate my mission report" An injured Steve remembers something he has to do. Unabashed Steve and dogs fluff. "Didn't peg you for a pet guy." "Allergies."

Alone In This World (Together)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

“We’re fugitives,” Steve said finally. “It might never get better.”

“The world’s always going to need saving," Sam replied. "We’re still Avengers. No one can take that away from us.” Then, like they hadn't been having an entire conversation before, “So when do we leave?”

“Once night falls.”

Do we have any idea where she is?”

“No.” Steve took a sip of his coffee. “But I know where she’ll be.”

it gets the worst at night

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Here's how it goes: Natasha sometimes shares a bed with Steve. It's not what it sounds like.

(In which there are Colombian drug lords, awkward boners, cuddly super-soldiers and the Avengers are all giant dorks.)

Shelter

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Sam and Steve, right after the fall of SHIELD.

Princely Bickering

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Jane Foster, Steve Rogers & Thor

Steve allows Sam to lean up and inspect his head for bruises and blood. He then checks out Steve’s eyes. ‘Do you know where you are?’ Steve rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t be an ass, Cap, apparently you can break.’ ‘London, England, chasing apparently useless Hydra intel despite having about five hundred international arrest warrants out for us because we’re just that stupid,’ says Steve. Sam pats him - gently - on the shoulder. Life on the run isn't easy, especially not after an injury. Fortunately Steve still has a few allies left.

And The Seconds Tick Down

AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.

"Grant" and "Francis" Go Shopping

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve and Clint both have holiday shopping to do for their family of choice, so they make a day trip to an outlet mall, have a few heart to hearts, use some coupons, buy a bunch of presents, and eventually get through their shopping lists.

A Tune Without Words

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As he and Sam prepare to begin searching for Bucky, Steve gets various offers of help—some more unexpected than others.

Purpose

Tony Stark wins the fight in Siberia completely by accident.

Steve Rogers does not resist his arrest as he is taken to the Raft.

Sam Wilson, T'Challa, and Pepper Potts pick up the pieces.

Full of Wounds and Still Standing on my Feet

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

The five times Steve looked out for Wanda, and one time Wanda decided someone needed to look out for Steve.

Three Awakenings

The first three times that Steve Rogers woke up during his first twenty-four hours in the twenty-first century.

Making Your Own Future

Characters: Steve Rogers, Diana Prince, Steve Trevor Five times -- plus one -- that Diana Prince and Steve Rogers encountered one another.

Better Living Through Pizza

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve takes some time off from soldiering and Avengering to get his head on straight, and Clint is assigned to keep an eye on him, because apparently SHIELD believes in the blind leading the blind. Steve really needs a hobby, since modern television shows baffle him, but Clint keeps bringing him DVDs and pizza.

Five Times Clint Barton Spoke with Steve Rogers about Growing Old and the One Time He Didn't.

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

When Steve Rogers reappeared from the past as an old man, there was a lot of catching up to do. Clint Barton made sure nobody got left behind.

Hammer's Totally Heavy-Handed and Incompetent Revenge

"So, at the end of IM2, Justin Hammer swears revenge on Pepper. He waits until Tony and Rhodey are halfway across the world to launch his attack.

Unfortunately for him, thanks to SHIELD, Iron Man and War Machine aren't the only superheroes in Pepper's rolladex. Steve thinks Pepper's just swell and doesn't take too kindly to somebody trying to hurt her."

Cue badass!Steve and competent!Pepper

Fan Mail

Steve starts getting his fan mail and receives an invitation to the prom. Written for a prompt at the Avengers kink meme. It was a great prompt, and so much fun to write and get feedback for!

Prom. Steve 'Grandpa Iceberg' Rogers at a 21st-century high school prom. "This isn't happening. This whole conversation is just an elaborate practical joke. Bruce really just has orders for widgets or something."

Bruce waved the printouts at him. "Fraid not. I don't really do practical jokes. Messing with other people's moods just seems. I don't know. Karmically unwise."

Mascot

Steve runs. People see Steve run. Steve gets adopted by the neighbourhood he runs through every week day morning. He finds this confusing. Tony finds it amusing.

Locks Not Replaced

Tony angsts back at Avengers' HQ, Ross is a bully and Steve makes sure he doesn't get away with it. In other words, there is much regret, a bit on the philosophy of locks, adventure and far too many Robin Hood metaphors.

woof

For a prompt on the avengers kinkmeme: "...something different happens when Steve gets Dr Erskine's serum plus the Vita ray treatment... Steve does get taller and stronger, but when the first full moon hits, he turns into a big friendly looking dog. Yes, he's a weredog, not a werewolf."

Mission: Baby

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

The Asset finds himself in charge of the care of a small baby, but somehow he knows—he has to protect the baby from all harm, whatever the cost.

14 Tracks

Pairings: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team 14 tracks from Steve's iPod and how they got on there.

Life Will Rattle Your Bones

Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr & Steve Rogers

Captain America and the Howling Commandos find Schmidt sooner than they thought... wait, what do you mean this is a *different* Schmidt?

In war-torn Germany, the paths of Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr cross, part, and cross again.

come build me up

Pairings: Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“Do you ever feel like -- like you joined up because you wanted to do good. You wanted to do the right thing but somewhere along the way, you just lost the whole fucking plot.”

“All of the time.”

Or: the one where Captain America and Agent 13 give long distance friendship a whirl.

Down in the Worn Out Place Again

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

“You don't look a day over 85, Captain,” Wanda says.

Natasha smiles, just barely, and nudges Steve with her elbow. “She makes jokes now.”

(Post AoU, stories about friendship.)

Satellites

Characters: Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Nick Fury Pairings: Natasha Romanov & Steve Rogers, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

In the immediate aftermath of SHIELD's collapse and Steve's plunge into the Potomac, Natasha considers her place in the world. Also the fact that Steve is depressing.

Timeless Classics

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Avengers Team Five An undetermined number of times (six, apparently) Steve unexpectedly got the reference (sort of), and one time everyone discovered something new together.

you just wait and see

Pairings: Rocket Raccoon & Steve Rogers

“Thor said you’re the captain.” Rogers says, his voice distant, sad smile growing into a sadder grin. “Tough job.”

The Small Hours

Pairings: Steve Rogers & T'Challa, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

"I'm not getting him back, am I." The words were flatly delivered – not a question so much as fatigued resignation. "We will do everything we can to help him," T'Challa quietly replied, but he wouldn't lie, not about this. Not to a fellow warrior he respected on and off the field of battle. "The possibility does exist, however, that the triggers are permanent."

The Man We All Remember From the Newsreels

Still getting used to the twenty-first century, Steve comforts himself with memories of long-gone friends. But Howard Stark, the man Steve remembers, is nothing like the man he sees in the newsreels.

we're all choir boys at best

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

You are totally getting laid tonight. "Please stop talking." You hijacked my brain first, this is totally not my fault.

Epistaxis

Steve doesn't worry the first time he gets a bloody nose that won't quit. But when it happens a second, third, fourth... He, and his teammates, start to get concerned.

You Close Your Eyes and the Glory Fades

His body isn’t his own, he knows that, knew before the procedure that everything would change. That was the easiest thing to wrap his head around, actually, the physical changes. He’s used to his body betraying him, so this is just another thing to learn his way around. But the colors of everything, even the sliver of blue sky he could see, craning his head at the tiny window, look different.

Looking For Answers (From The Great Beyond)

After the Battle of New York is over, and Loki and the tesseract are returned to Asgard, Steve takes a road trip across the country, and tries to figure out what he wants to do next.

Mourning the Future

Steve's ties to the past and the future are pretty tenuous, and the serum ensures he lives in an eternal present state of ever-youthful vigour. When an old war buddy gets handed his last marching orders, Steve has to wonder if everyone will eventually leave.

Riviera Life

Sam and Steve have been traversing Europe looking for Bucky. Not everyone is convinced it isn’t an open invitation road trip.

Voluntary Bros.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

"Dude, you could be twins, they tested you before they defrosted you to see if you were a clone or something, or if he was a clone," Clint said.

"I want to talk to him, I think. I mean, a girl threw her latte at me last week for not calling her back and this dude felt me up at an art gallery yesterday," Steve said.

Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple

Pairings: Miles Morales & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.

... in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.

Battle Fatigue

Steve thought he was doing okay. Things weren't going great, but they were fine, manageable even, and then suddenly they weren't.

We Become New Yorkers (or: Five Times Steve Rogers Looked For Home, and One Time Home Found Him)

New York is a million cities at the same time. This is how Steve found his.

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

In which Steve and Peter learn that the best way to get through a bad situation is together. And to avoid collapsing buildings. And that concussions are terrible, terrible things.

Leviticus 25

"You want to save Bucky Barnes? You are going to have to put your own house in order first because he is going to need a rock to cling to. You are not ready to be that rock for him. You owe it to him -- and more importantly, you owe it to yourself -- to figure things out, figure out how you can be happy in this time and place, whether or not Barnes is with you."

Strike

Sometimes the road to recovery involves bowling. Conveniently, so does the one to the Grand Canyon.

Conversation in Wakanda

“I have been told that you had the privilege to share a training session with some of our Dora Milaje,” T’Challa says. “May I ask how it went?”

“Well,” the Captain huffs. “There’s no polite way to say it: I had my ass handed to me. Repeatedly.”

He sounds and looks utterly delighted.

Contact Light

Everyone thought computers would be the thing that really blew Steve's mind about the 21st century. They were wrong. When he finds out that he missed the moon landing, it's the start of an ongoing obsession with space that maybe involves Neil deGrasse Tyson, Twitter, and Star Trek marathons.

Twenty-Two

“This is Lucky,” Clint said when a dog got between him and Natasha. Lucky’s vest was bright, like desert mornings and night explosions.

“Does he help?” Natasha asked.

Clint pressed his hands flat on the counter behind him. “He saved my life.”

Natasha looked at Steve, her expression fierce. Steve resisted the urge to yank down his sleeves. Instead, he dug his nails into the puckered skin on his forearms.

AKA An AU in which Steve is a veteran just trying to survive (or not).

Gray

Peter doesn't expect Steve to show up at his house one night when he gets home from school. He also doesn't expect to have a long conversation with him, and choose to be on his side instead.

We're Happy, Free, Confused, and Lonely at the Same Time.

"Tony isn't sure, but he *thinks* Steve Rogers is going to try and argue with him about not being a kid, while wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and plaid pyjama pants watching a Disney movie. Tony really hopes that is the case. The Captain America voice looses all affect when wrapped up in that blanket and Tony can't wait to inform him as such." - The one where Tony realises that Captain America and Steve Rogers are not the same person, and Steve is so much younger then he thought.

This Isn't A Love Song, This Isn't A Fable

Steve's not OK with people's perception of Captain America, no matter what he says or how much he pretends otherwise. It's like no one in this time period realizes that there's more to him than a spangly outfit. And yes, he's including the Avengers in that. ... or, the one where everything's all right, until it's not.

it's safe here in our new world

Post TWS. In which Natasha and Steve go shopping, have Thursday night movie nights, and learn that Natasha loves to platonically kiss Steve. Which is good, because Steve loves being platonically kissed by Natasha.

Shadowboxing

Pairings: Matt Murdock & Steve Rogers

It doesn’t matter how many times you fall – what matters most is how many times you get back up. Steve Rogers knew this lesson far too well and it was one Matt Murdock had endured all his life. With both men at their lowest, could a chance friendship bring each of them to their feet again?

Everybody Eats When They Come to My House

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“You’ll ruin your dinner,” Sam says, gesturing with Steve with his spatula.

i fear for the calendar; its days are numbered

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Before she goes off the grid, Natasha gives Steve her phone number. He’s honored that he’s the only one to be trusted with it, but quickly learns that she spends most of her free time texting him Dad jokes.

Status Quo Ante

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

A tale in which Sam suspects he should be used to this by now, for values of 'this' that involve certain folks he hangs out with and situations he finds himself in, Team Cap becomes Team Ex-Cap becomes TBD, and nobody but Clint really wants to know what happened to Scott Lang's GI Joes. (Sam Wilson from the final scene to the mid-credits scene.)

The Glass Parade

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

Steve thinks that he’s seen Natasha be at least three different people in the short time he’s known her, and he isn’t sure which one is real.

In which the most confusing part of the future is how much Steve has in common with Natasha, and the fact that she seems dead-set on being his friend.

Still Life

Steve Rogers and a very modern form of art therapy. (The one where Steve draws himself out of despair and into some notoriety when his cartoons hit the internet, but he's still not allowed to look at Tumblr without an okay from Pepper.)

Selective Service

The serum's given Steve a lot, but it hasn't taken anything away from him. Not even the things he never wanted in the first place.

I'm a Hustler, Baby

Steve Rogers has a talent for pool--and for making others believe he's terrible at it.

The Healing Properties of Felt-Tip Pens

Rapid healing has worked wonders on Steve Rogers' body, but occasionally it really screws with his head. In the aftermath of torture, Bruce Banner helps Steve to reconcile mind and body.

If I Die Before I Wake

It's his job, as their leader, to endure the sadistic focus of their captor, and that is the one thought that carries Steve through.

Even Gods Do

Captain America doesn't have a good relationship with sleep anymore. Also, he's not a toy.

Under My Skin

Written for a prompt on avengerkink: I want to see something where, for whatever reason, Steve's accelerated healing turns out to be a bad thing. Something where the faster healing is making things worse. I would prefer something other than the standard, super-healing allows for more torture without death. “He's lucky – to have the serum, to have you all.” Tony wasn't sure about that first part. When one faced death and destruction every day on the job, there were many advantages to having a healing factor...and a great many disadvantages as well.

A Glossary of the 21st Century

Pairings: pre-Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Steve's sick of not understanding what's going on, and the team are not all that helpful, so he starts keeping an illustrated notebook for further research. With the help of wiki, google and Logan he starts to settle in and find his place in the twenty-first century.

Blanket Gift Policy

“You didn’t,” Bucky said, with no real hope of being contradicted. Clint shrugged helplessly and passed him the large, soft bundle wrapped in shiny purple foil.

“Sorry.” Tony covered his eyes with one hand.

“I’m getting a migraine.”

“So,” Bruce said wearily, “counting Clint, me, Bucky, Tony, and Sam, that brings it up to five.”

“Excuse you, mine’s not a blanket,” Sam said. “Mine’s a slanket. Big difference.”

Bucky resisted the urge to throw the whole heap of parcels at Sam’s head. “Because it has sleeves? It’s still a blanket, Wilson. They’re all blankets. Even Thor’s direct-from-Asgard raven gift delivery was a cloak, which just means it’s a blanket with a strap. We all got Steve a goddamn blanket.”

One Tin Soldier

Written for a prompt at avengerkink: Because really, under any other circumstances, why would they follow him when he's some guy who's younger than the rest of them (time as a Capsicle aside), who goes around wearing that spangly outfit, who's not even used to the modern world? Why Steve Rogers, rather than a Norse god or the CEO of Stark Industries or anyone else?

“Love is for children,” she'd said, but respect knew no such bounds. The five times the Avengers accepted Steve as their leader, and the one time they followed without question.

and if there's life we'll see it

Steve is instantly taken with this idea of having the picture of the person calling you flash on your screen when they ring your cell.

Secure Your Own Oxygen Mask (Before Assisting Others)

Steve keeps going, because they need him. Being Captain America - having the serum - is a responsibility and a privilege he takes seriously, and he won't waste it by sitting around resting in the middle of a crisis. But then the work is over, and the original victims of the crisis aren't the only ones needing looking after.

Way of the Eagle

Clint introduces Steve to kung-fu movies. Things escalate quickly.

Walking Wounded

In the aftermath of the battle against the Chitauri, Steve's doing just fine. Until he's not. Fortunately, Thor is a perfect mother-hen, Tony makes decent back-up, JARVIS is a genius, and Soap Operas are life-changing. (Or, Post-Shawarma Feels.)

#steve rogers #fic rec #pro steve rogers #i guess i'll tag the ships #samsteve #thundershield

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scrumptious-delusion · 4 years ago

Text

MESS IS MINE [PART 9]

series masterlist

warnings: swearing, talk of murder again 😂, mention of: blood and injuries.

length: 4.5k

a/n: my first cliffhanger 😉.

Dropping your father off at the gym with a promise to be back soon, you drive into the centre of town to finish buying his birthday presents.

You plan on waking up around seven tomorrow to take him out for breakfast, also ensuring that he’s out of the house before the people setting up his party arrive at eight.

Tony had messaged you on Thursday with the details, asking you to keep Ed away from the house until ten, half an hour before the party began and when Tony would be arriving with his wife, Pepper.

Stepping out of the car, you glance down at your phone just as it starts ringing, an unfamiliar number lighting up the screen.

Muffling a groan, you ignore the call and block the number, knowing it can only be one person. A person whose number you blocked the same day you found him in bed with another woman.

A week later and Isaac was still attempting to talk to you.

Shrugging it off, you focus on what you need to get done this morning.

You’re browsing through the birthday card display, searching for a meaningful fiftieth card when someone calls out your name.

Turning around, you’re met with a hug from Peggy.

“Hey!” You laugh, surprised. “Winnie said you were coming up with Steve today.”

Stepping back, you take in the woman you haven’t seen in a month.

“Yes, Steve’s at the bakery and I just came in here to buy Winnie some flowers.” Peggy smiles, pointing at the numerous bouquets by the shop’s entrance.

“You haven’t seen her yet?”

“No, we only just got in.” Peggy states, and for the first time you hear an underline of nerves in her tone.

“Well I just know you two are going to get along great.” You soothe, meaning it.

She smiles, “I hope so.”

There’s a lull in the conversation and you use it to take a breath and gather your courage. “By the way, I want to say I’m sorry for how I dropped off the radar, I just… things with Isaac -”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Peggy interrupts, squeezing your arm. “But Steve did tell me about what happened, I’m so sorry -”

“Don’t be,” You cut in this time. “I’ve moved on from it.”

The betrayal hurt, there was no denying that truth. However, once you had recovered from the initial shock of it - the sting of the cut… you found there wasn’t much left for you to feel.

Nothing that wasn’t anger or bitterness, and even those emotions hadn’t stuck, waning more and more each passing day.

It worried you to an extent. The lack of… everything. It made you think that perhaps - while terrible, the whole ordeal had been a blessing in disguise.

You thought you loved Isaac. You had uttered those three important words to him numerous times, but if you had truly loved him, shouldn’t there have been more pain? More heartbreak? More tears and time spent wondering “what if?” while struggling to move on?

Shouldn’t there have been all the things you felt when Bucky left you?

Without meaning to, you find yourself thinking back on the question Peggy asked you that night in the car. A question you hadn’t dared to think too hard about, knowing in your heart what the answer would be.

“What was it like when you loved Bucky?”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Peggy replies genuinely, letting go of your arm. “He doesn’t deserve another thought.”

You smile just as you catch sight of Steve over Peggy’s shoulder.

“So… will I be seeing more of you?”

Breathing out a soft laugh, you joke “Only if you want to see more of me.”

“Of course I do!” She grins.

“Hey!” Steve greets then, drawing you into a tight embrace. “What are the chances?”

“I think you’ve forgotten how small this town is.”

Releasing you, Steve sighs “I’d love to chat but I told Winnie we’d be over by now -”

“Go.” You shoo, “I’ll see you both at the party tomorrow anyway, right?”

“Definitely.”

“See you then.” Peggy says, taking Steve’s outstretched hand.

You wave as they walk off to buy Winnie a bouquet before turning back to the card display, continuing your search.

The entry door slams shut loudly, but fortunately there’s no one else around to hear it.

Midnight is minutes away and instead of getting some much needed sleep, you’ve met up with Wanda as she locks up the restaurant for some fun.

“Let’s go to Asgard Park.” She whispers, linking her arm with yours.

Heading off at a slow pace, you ask “Why are you whispering?”

“I don’t know.” She whispers again.

Your laughter intertwines with Wanda’s, echoing down the empty street.

It’s not far from Wanda’s restaurant in the centre of town to the large park, and it’s a trek you’ve both made countless times before. Many nights of your later teen years were spent sneaking out to meet with friends there, simply because there wasn’t anything better to do.

Pietro was one of those friends and would be a welcome addition right now, but he wouldn’t be arriving until tomorrow, caught in the middle of training for an upcoming marathon.

Soon enough the concrete beneath your shoes gives way to grass, the park laid out before you.

Lampposts shine down on the paths that weave in and out of the park while solar lights that have been strung up in the trees provide a dull glow. Everything else remains hidden in the shadows.

So relying heavily on memory, the two of you head in the general direction of the swing sets.

“Imagine if tonight is the night we’re finally murdered here.”

You shouldn’t laugh but you do - loudly, as does Wanda.

“Uh-oh, that sounds like trouble.” A voice calls out from the pitch black.

Both you and Wanda freeze, grasping each other’s arms.

“What the fuck…” Wanda mutters to you before yelling out “Wilson, is that your creepy ass?”

You laugh, as do multiple other people.

Wanda continues “Okay, what the -”

A bright light shines directly at the two of you, cutting Wanda off as you both shout, hands raising and eyes shutting as Sam’s laughter rings out clearly and the light dips.

“Ass!” You and Wanda call out at the same time.

“That wasn’t me!” Sam yells back indignantly.

Your eyes finally readjust, and with the light shining from the torch in his hand, you make out Steve, Peggy, Bucky, and Sam.

“Steve,” You huff.

Wanda gasps, smiling wide and dragging you behind her as she races over.

She releases your arm to hug Steve, who fondly hugs her back.

“Hey!” He protests as Wanda pulls back and swats at his stomach.

“That’s for blinding us.” She scolds before shifting her attention. “You must be Peggy,” Wanda smiles. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You too Wanda.” Peggy grins.

Wanda walks past Sam, flipping him off as she goes, making his eyes roll.

“Hi Barnes.” She greets in a low tone, standing before him.

Bucky warily starts to reply back when Wanda - much harder than with Steve, jabs at his stomach.

Sam and Steve snicker while you cover your face with one hand, peeping through the gaps in your fingers.

You’re fairly certain you hear Bucky utter out “I deserve that” through a groan.

Before he can even recover, Wanda pulls him into a hug, whispering something you can’t hear into his ear.

“What are you weirdo’s doing here anyway?” You joke as Wanda returns to your side.

“Could ask you the same thing, dork.” Sam retorts.

You glare at him as Steve speaks up.

“Sam wanted to meet up but he had to work a late shift, so we were trying to think of what to do and then we remembered this place…”

“Felt weird to tell Ma what we were doing instead of hiding it.” Bucky chuckles.

“Not that we ever did a good job at hiding it.” Steve confesses, making everyone laugh.

“I have to admit this feels kind of odd, the gang more or less back together after so long.” It’s a sentimental statement that you wholeheartedly agree with, however you’re distracted by Sam’s choice of words.

Wanda giggles, proving that you both share the same mind as she mocks “Did you really just say gang?”

That’s the final straw.

“Alright, you know what, I’ve had it -” Sam grumbles before lunging.

You both screech and take off running in different directions.

“I guess that’s the game started!” Steve yells with a laugh as you run for your life, trying not to trip over in the dark.

A typical game you all played whenever here late at night was a simple one - tag. Though it was more of a hide-and-seek tag with all the dark sections of the park.

You hear Wanda squeal off to your left, followed by a “Got you!” from Sam.

It’s going to be a fun night.

The game’s been going on for hours. The last time you checked it had just passed two in the morning.

You’re all getting tired, growing noisier and sloppier, so the game will no doubt be ending soon. For the moment however, you’re focused on hiding from Peggy.

Creeping over quietly to where you know the children’s cubby house to be, you feel around for the edges of the small structure, crouching down once you find the opening.

Entering with your hand outstretched to find the back wall, you’re brought to an abrupt stop when you come into contact with… something.

An instinctive yelp is seconds from leaving your lips at the unknown object, when a hand covers your mouth - well, half of it really.

“Sshhh,” A voice murmurs. “It’s just me.”

“Bucky?” You whisper-shout back as his hand falls. “How the hell can you fit in here?”

You’re definitely going to have to find another spot. This place was a tight squeeze when you were both teenagers -

A gasp, muffled by Bucky’s hand over your mouth once again, escapes you as you’re dragged into the cubby house.

Just moments later you hear someone’s - most likely Peggy’s, footsteps over the sand surrounding the playground, but thankfully they just pass by.

Proving your point about the tight fit, almost every part of you is pressed against every part of Bucky and the mental image of the two of you hunched and squished in the pink cubby house has laughter bubbling in your throat.

Bucky must sense it, or rather he notices that your shoulders begin to shake, because he places his hand more firmly over your mouth.

“Sshhh.” Bucky repeats in your ear, but it’s broken up and you can tell he’s trying just as hard not to laugh.

Which makes the situation even funnier.

Air is rushing in and out of your nose loudly, and tears have started falling down your face, which Bucky must feel on his hand. His body starts to shake with laughter beneath you.

“Angel, please…” The desperate, almost whining tone - because he hasn’t been tagged once yet, is what undoes you.

Bucky doesn’t even try to fight it anymore. Letting his hand drop, your laughter spills out freely, along with his.

Not ready to admit defeat, you both squeeze out of the cubby house as the sound of Peggy’s giggles and footfalls grow close. Bucky doesn’t wait for you to stand on your own, he just picks you up, placing you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and starts running.

Your laughter is like a tracking device though, his not much quieter, easily giving away your position.

“Ha, two in one!” Peggy calls out, one hand on your head, the other on Bucky’s back. “There goes your streak Barnes!”

Bucky doesn’t respond, instead he falls to his knees, taking you both to the ground where the laughter continues.

“I’m… sorry…” You pant, making him laugh more.

Making his way over, Steve shines his torch over the two of you and grins “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

Wanda holds a hand out to you, shaking her head with a smile as she pulls you up, Steve doing the same for Bucky.

“How are you girls getting home?” Sam asks.

“Our cars are parked at the restaurant.” Wanda answers.

“Hop in mine and I’ll drive you over.”

“Okay.” You nod, finally regaining enough composure to talk as you wipe the tears from your face.

All six of you walk to the two cars parked by the curb, Steve, Peggy, and Bucky heading towards the same one.

“Thanks for a great time!” Wanda waves to them.

A chorus of “bye” and “see you tomorrow” sounds out as everyone gets into their respective vehicles.

The drive takes less than a minute and you both thank Sam as you get out and wave, even though he idles patiently while the two of you walk to your own cars.

“Looked like you and Bucky were having fun.” Wanda muses.

“Please don’t.” But she, of course, does.

“I know you still have feelings for him.” She continues softly, “Or never stopped having them.”

“Wanda.”

“I’m definitely not saying you should forgive and forget. I’m just saying that despite what happened in the past, if Bucky is who you want, he would treat you right. He only ever wanted what was best for you, and he knows how he fucked up.”

“Wanda -”

“I know.” She interrupts, turning to face you as you reach your car door. “I’m not trying to start a conversation about it, I’m saying it because it’s true and I know you. If you want to try again with Bucky I know this is something you need to hear from someone other than yourself.”

Wanda smiles, “I’m just saying there’s nothing wrong with wanting to try again - unless you don’t want to, in which case, just forget I said anything.”

“Okay.” You huff without any real heat, storing her words away in your mind.

Hugging you, Wanda says “I’ll see you tomorrow, love you.”

“Love you too,” You smile.

Your alarm pierces through the quiet morning, waking you.

Tears well in your eyes instantly. The four or so hours of sleep you got were definitely not enough.

Suck it up, princess.

With all the determination you can muster after only just waking, you roll - fall, out of bed and get yourself ready for the big day ahead.

When you wander into the kitchen you’re not surprised to find your father already sitting at the dining table.

“Happy birthday!”

“Thank you, honey.” He smiles as you hug him. “I’m surprised to see you up already, considering when you got home.” He teases.

Pulling back, you frown “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay, I fell straight back to sleep.” He reassures. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah,” You grin. “Wanda and I went to Asgard Park.”

Your father hums knowingly. Like Winnie, he always knew what you were up to as a teenager - even if you didn’t tell him.

“Sam, Steve, Peggy, and Bucky ended up being there too, so we played tag.” You laugh.

“That would have been a sight to see.” He murmurs, smiling. “No noise complaints?”

“Well Nat didn’t roll up.”

He lets out a whistle. “Lucky, I think I would’ve ran for the hills rather than face that woman.”

Laughing, you tug at his arm.

“Come on old man, I’m taking you out for breakfast.”

Mouth falling open in shock, your father demands “What did you just call me?”

“You heard me!” You call back, already running for the car.

Pulling back into the driveway, you notice three new things.

First is the balloons strung to the mailbox. Second is the red carpet that’s been rolled out from the driveway and down the side of the house, to the backyard. Third is the expensive car parked out front, which Tony and Pepper step out from.

Getting out of your car, your father groans as Tony calls out “Happy birthday, old man!” before meeting him in a hug.

Pepper follows after, wishing him a happy birthday much more pleasantly.

“Hey kid,” Tony greets with a smirk.

“Hi,” You greet him, while extending your hand to Pepper. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” The stylishly dressed woman smiles. “Your father talks about you all the time.”

“Oh?”

Meeting your gaze, your father shrugs with a grin. “What else have I got to talk about?”

“Well soon you’ll have your amazing fiftieth birthday party to talk about.” Tony grins, gesturing to the backyard “Shall we?”

“Suppose I don’t have much choice.” Your father jokes, eyeing the red carpet.

“No, you don’t.” Tony sasses back, urging you to lead the way.

Following his prompt, you walk the path to the backyard.

Holy shit.

That’s all you can think as you take in your father’s now unrecognisable backyard - and what a blessing that he owned a decent amount of land, otherwise there’d be no space for all of… this.

There’s numerous food vans parked around, advertising woodfired pizza, desserts, kebabs, fried foods, sandwiches, snacks, spit roasts - practically anything.

A stage has been erected towards the far end, where a band is currently setting up, and of course there’s also a dance floor.

Plenty of tables, chairs, and benches fill out the entire backyard, and marquees have been assembled to provide shaded areas.

There’s carnival games set up everywhere too. Ring toss, shooting games, ball toss, darts, and others - there’s even a mechanical bull.

You spot a bunch of drink stations scattered around and on top of all that there’s a fully decked out bar.

Tying everything together are the balloons, streamers, and ‘Happy 50th Birthday Ed’ banners everywhere.

It’s like a county fair in your backyard.

“Holy shit.” Your father voices your earlier thought, as stunned as you.

This… this was not what you pictured when you heard “a big outdoor barbeque”.

“Happy birthday Ed.” Tony wishes much more earnestly, patting him on the shoulder. “You’re only fifty once.”

What a way to celebrate it.

“The guests won’t be arriving for another half hour yet, how about we head inside while they finish setting up the last few things?” Pepper suggests.

Ed agrees, leading the way back to the house.

You grab Tony’s attention while your father talks to Pepper.

“Thank you.” You say sincerely, beyond grateful. You could never do something like this for your father.

“It’s my pleasure kid,” Tony smiles. “You enjoy it as much as him.”

“Fuck me.” Wanda gasps.

“I know.” You agree, standing beside the present table, where the red carpet ends, just before the balloon arch entrance.

Wanda sets down her gift for your father, eyes still glued on everything further ahead.

“They weren’t kidding about Stark’s parties.”

“And he considers this small.” You muse.

Wanda simply shakes her head and mumbles “Can he do mine next?”

“Nat, look!” A familiar voice insists. “There’s a mechanical bull!”

Turning around, you see Nat and Clint approaching.

“You know what happened last time.” The redhead warns, throwing you and Wanda a smile as she places down their gift, Clint focused on the carnival games.

“The bleeding didn’t last that long though.”

“Hey you two.” You greet, drawing Clint’s attention from the party.

“Oh hey,” He grins. “I’m guessing your dad’s already down there?” He gestures vaguely to the other people wandering around, mostly near the food vans.

You nod and Clint tugs at his wife’s hand.

“Okay, we’ll catch up later.” Nat winks, allowing Clint to lead her into the party.

“I’m definitely riding that bull.” You hear him announce.

Wanda chuckles before facing you again. “You look very pretty by the way.”

You had picked out one of your favourite dresses today - it was safe to say you weren’t planning on riding the mechanical bull.

“Thanks, so do you.” You reply honestly. Wanda’s dressed more suitably for a possible bull ride - high waisted jeans and a cute crop top.

“Trying to impress anyone?” She suggests slyly, eyelashes fluttering.

“No.” You glare, shoving her weakly.

Wanda cackles.

“Hey girls!”

Both of you turn to see Thor - clearly identifiable by his booming voice, along with his brother Loki.

“Hi guys!” You both call back, waving as they walk on by to go see your father.

“Are you trying to impress anyone?” You mimic under your breath, referring to the crush Wanda had on Loki years ago.

“Shut up.” She hisses, slapping your arm, but you just laugh.

“Girls!”

At this point the two of you almost feel like greeters as you turn once more, this time to the sound of Winnie’s voice. Trailing behind her is Peggy, Steve, and Bucky.

“Hi Winnie.” You greet, hugging her.

“You both look great, and what a party!” She exclaims, drawing Wanda into a hug.

“Hey.” You smile at the other three as they approach, placing gifts on the table.

Winnie steps back from Wanda, a smirk playing on her face. “I practically had to shove these ones out of bed this morning, how did you girls fare?”

Groaning, Wanda states “I felt dead.”

“I almost cried when my alarm went off.” You admit.

The woman laughs heartily, shaking her head. “Sounds like you’re all getting older.”

All five of you protest at that, making her laugh more. “Alright, alright, where’s your father?” She asks you, smiling.

Pointing her in his direction, Winnie thanks you and leaves.

The others are already in the midst of a conversation when you turn back around, and you take a moment to glance over Bucky.

The bruise on his left cheek has faded more since Friday, almost completely gone, and the beginning of a beard still covers his defined jaw.

His hair is pulled back in a low bun, some strands tucked behind his ears and much like that night at Coney Island, he wears jeans and a fitting shirt - white this time.

The short sleeves are tight, showing off his large biceps and if you stare at the shirt long enough, you can almost see the muscles you know are underneath -

Stop.

“I never asked, who won Friday night?”

The question just pops out of your mouth, your brain trying to distract itself.

Bucky turns to you in surprise, having been engrossed in whatever the others were saying. Once the question registers, a grin spreads across his lips and you can’t help but copy it.

“Zemo did.” He sighs happily, “I got my second chance.”

“Good,” You smile. “Make it count.”

“I might be sick.” Wanda groans beside you, holding onto your arm and practically making you drag her along.

In a singsong voice, you say “I told you not to eat those pancakes.”

“They looked so good!”

It’s almost two o’clock, so the party’s been underway for a couple of hours now and everyone is loving it. No one’s going to want to leave.

“Hey Wanda, where’s that brother of yours?” Your father’s voice yells out from the right.

Stopping, you both turn to see him sitting at the bar with Tony, Thor, Loki, and a few others.

“He should be here any minute now!” Wanda calls back with a shrug.

Your dad was as fond of Wanda and Pietro as he was you, especially after their parents passed.

“Better be,” He warns teasingly.

Waving, you continue on dragging Wanda through the crowds, closer to where the games are. “Alright, what should we do next?”

She hums in thought when suddenly someone grabs your free arm.

“Clint’s about to ride the bull.” Peggy grins.

You gasp and loop your arm with hers, the three of you rushing over to the mechanical bull pit, not wanting to miss out on the spectacle.

Steve, Bucky, and Sam are already there and Nat stands on the other side of the pit, laughing at the excited expressions on all your faces.

Clint’s currently mounting the bull and you hear him tell the operator “Give me everything you got.”

Oh boy.

“Alright,” Sam grins “Ten bucks says he doesn’t last a minute.”

“No way,” Bucky shakes his head. “He’ll last longer than that.”

You agree with Bucky, as does Peggy, however Wanda and Steve side with Sam’s bet.

A bell sounds and the bull starts up.

You all watch adamantly as the bull quickly picks up speed, Clint’s one-handed grip growing tighter and tighter as he fights to stay on. The closer the clock ticks to a minute the more you, Bucky, and Peggy cheer, trying to drown out the sounds of the other’s taunts.

The second the clock hits a minute, you grab Bucky’s arm next to you, jumping in celebration while he cheers, and Peggy sticks her tongue out at Steve.

“Suck it, losers.” You jeer at Sam and Wanda who both flip you off. You laugh while Bucky responds in the same manner.

You all turn back to keep watching Clint and that’s when you realise you’re still gripping Bucky’s bicep.

It feels so nice.

Letting go, you force out a laugh, “Sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” Bucky murmurs, meeting your gaze.

Those steel blue eyes pin you easily - like always, stripping you of any defence and leaving you vulnerable, but this time… this time you don’t hate how it feels.

In fact, the feeling they give you is one you haven’t felt in a long time.

Butterflies.

“Oh shit.” A collective gasp draws your and Bucky’s attention back to Clint.

Oh shit, indeed.

You have no idea how Clint fell off, but it clearly wasn’t in a good way because he’s covering his mouth and you can see blood.

He’s ushered out of the pit where Nat meets him, walking him over to a bench to inspect his injury.

The six of you follow over.

Tugging his hand away, Nat looks over the cut as Clint insists “Nat, I feel perfectly fine.”

“That there is a reason to worry.” She drones teasingly, making her husband smile.

“Here.” Peggy draws a packet of tissues from her handbag and gives them to Nat.

You see there’s a cut along Clint’s chin, but it’s his lip that’s bleeding most - he must’ve bit it when he fell.

“I’ll go get some ice.” Wanda says, darting off to a drink station.

Patting away the blood and analysing the cut better, Nat declares “Looks like stitches won’t be needed this time, just a band-aid.”

“I’ll get one from the house.” You say, spinning around and making your way back through the party.

When you reach the balloon arch near the present table the back door of the house starts to come into view, the sounds of the party quieter, though the thrum of live music can still be felt under your feet.

Movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention, over on the red carpet leading to the entrance you just passed through.

You turn your head to see what guest has arrived late and with a surge of joy you recall what Wanda said about Pietro.

The moment your eyes land on him, you swear your soul is jolted from your body.

“Oh my god.” The phrase leaves your lips involuntarily as your brain tries to process what your eyes are seeing.

Isaac’s here.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #boxer!bucky barnes x reader #boxer!bucky barnes #mess is mine #mim

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blushnote · 4 years ago

Text

↳ requested | 1.6k words

↳ dom!wonwoo smut

a/n: HELLO. i’m sure everyone is wondering what’s going on and WHY i’ve been absent for a few months. put simply: things got hectic and i needed a break! i’m not saying i’ll jump back into being completely active again, but that i’m going to come on as often as i can! (which might be every few days or so! i apologize!!)

as a treat for everyone - this features rich girl wonwoo! <3

wonwoo stands at the street pole, conversing with his friends. the bar is unusually crowded. mostly likely because it’s a friday and there isn’t much else the townspeople would rather do than get plastered, forgetting the atrocities of work. his friend extends a box of cigarettes to wonwoo, offers him one, but he shakes his head.

since getting involved with you, wonwoo has attempted to forfeit smoking. it has always been something he’s done to pass the time at the street corner. plus, he likes the idea of blowing a big, stinging cloud right into someone’s face when they give him attitude.

instead wonwoo suckles on a lollipop that tastes like an artificially sweet strawberry, pushes up the bridge of his glasses, and folds some silvery hair under his beanie. he knows it’s about the right time for you to be returning from that dinner party your parents forced you into attending.

as wonwoo’s friend exaggerates a tale about getting into a fist-driven confrontation at a bus stop last week, someone strutting by on the packed street bumps wonwoo’s shoulder.

“choose a better place to stand.” the stranger rumbles, agitated.

wonwoo flicks up his middle finger indifferently. “fuck off.” he grunts, the fog of his breath appearing in the night air.

he’s feeling sort of agitated himself. your parents have tethered you to a leash lately, forcing you to all these fancy gatherings and opening ceremonies and dinners. to put it frankly – wonwoo misses you. your laugh, your eyes, the texture of your skin, your voice in his ear. he’s been wanting an excuse to get his hands all over you. every single inch.

that’s when he hears the ding in his jacket pocket. looking away from the dramatic enactment involving his friend driving a fist into his palm, wonwoo checks his phone to see a text from you. a series of images.

23:28 // JPEG.1034

23:28 // JPEG.1035

23:28 // JPEG. 1036

the three pictures load. he chokes on his breath.

23:28 // i know u don’t like when i spoil my lingerie but.

23:28 // don’t i look so cute :( so fuckable?? im srry but I had to :(

his teeth crack the strawberry lollipop into sugary shards in his mouth. that lace is squeezing your flesh in all the right places. the picture with your fingers splayed teasingly over your underwear, hiding your core, it’s enough to make him shudder, salivate even. he’s officially ignoring his friend’s story by tapping a reply, fiddling with the thin stick in his mouth.

(ww) 23:30 // u free now? head to my place.

he receives an answer immediately.

23:30 // hmmm why?

(ww) 23:30 // u know why. don’t act like such a brat.

already, wonwoo can sense the desire form inside him. pounding almost. like a second heartbeat. you’re usually compliant and bending to his carnal whims. maybe all this time away from each other has you forgetting just how well wonwoo can fuck that stubbornness out.

23:30 // it’s new. i don’t want u ripping anything!!

(ww) 23:30 // idc.

23:30 // so mean!! not even gonna let u touch me now :-)

(ww) 23:30 // yeah. ok. we’ll see about it then.

after sliding his phone back in his pocket, wonwoo glances briefly in through the bar window. he sees a bartender pour a glass full of ice cubes before sloshing in a surge of alcohol. at that, wonwoo gets an idea. when his friends question about why he’s leaving so suddenly, he smirks.

“need to teach someone how to behave.” wonwoo shrugs before jogging quickly across the street.

“i’m not gonna tell you again. keep your fuckin’ thighs spread nice and wide for me or else i won’t let you cum – not even once. you understand?”

a harsh dip in your stomach suggests the breath you just inhaled. after a moment of silence, he hears you comply, and watches with his hungry, intent gaze as your legs part open for him. wonwoo has been teasing you with a bowl of ice cubes. at first, he held them to your nipples, had you whimpering into his mouth while he simultaneously rubbed his tongue against yours. but the real fun began when he introduced the ice cubes to your lower region. it was a very different punishment compared to his past endeavours, a tantalizing one.

wonwoo returns the cube to the nook of your inner thigh, then creeps it slowly toward your core. you’re beginning to tremble with the restraint required to not snap your legs shut. the ice cube ghosts transiently up your slit, a contact you had yet to experience, and a beautiful gasp tears from your lungs. he swears that you leak even more onto the sheets.

he takes the cube away, then drags his warm tongue from the bottom of your pussy right to the top, delivering a slow, flat lick which tastes sweet and cold and makes him so unbelievably dizzy with how much he loves it.

“w-wonwoo, please, pl-please keep going.” you stutter, opening your thighs even wider to invite his tongue.

he shakes his head. “what else did i tell you? don’t ask me to do anything. you’ll lie there and you’ll fuckin’ take it.” smiling, wonwoo issues a tight grip on the ice cube and presses it right into your clit. you whine sharp and loud, your hands traveling all over your body in confusion, not sure if it’s more pleasure than pain, or a hot mix of both.

“or are you still interested in acting like such a brat, hm?” wonwoo utters in his deep voice. “ like a smug little princess who thinks she can tease me whenever she wants and she’ll still get my cock all the way inside her? nice and full, just how she likes it. is that it, babygirl?”

he feels the ice melt under his fingers. you can hardly piece together a response, just a very incoherent, “no wonwoo” as tears start slipping down your cheeks. wonwoo takes the cube away, then massages your clit with his thumb, warming you up slowly. a few jolts pass through your body. he can tell you’re falling apart inside with how badly you want to cum, though wonwoo had strictly told you to hold it. he rubs and rubs and rubs, barking at you to control yourself, your pussy so slippery with arousal that it’s running all down your skin and wetting the bed.

right when he feels you’re about to snap, wonwoo completely removes his touch. you wail at that, suckle in a shaky breath and cry his name.

“please, wonwoo! i-i’m sorry, m’soso sorry! i’m sorry for acting so bratty and sending those pictures, t-teasing you like that! but i just c-ccan’t take this anymore. treat me however you want, but please let me cum!”

he’s truly missed the sound of you begging for him. his cock twitches in his pants, reminding him of how hard he currently is. each time you cry the boy’s name in such a lewd manner, there’s another surge of pleasure and he aches even more, to the point where he could cum just from touching himself over his clothes. still, wonwoo must ensure you’ve really learned your lesson. so, he offers you a deal. he’ll get to watch you pleasure yourself with the ice cube until he cums.

and so wonwoo sits in a chair based at the end of the bed, a hand stuffed down his pants, watching you swirl an ice cube at your sensitive core. he guides you every now and then: “hold it right there, pretty baby. let it melt all the way down. that’s it, sweetheart. n-now rub it, okay? f-finger yourself too. nnrgh, f-fuck. fuck you sound so wet. m’gonna c-cum—”

his strokes lash faster until wonwoo’s head rolls back against the chair, his eyes blinking shut while he chases his high. he hears you continue to whine as he cums, his cock throbbing in his hand, still so hard and heavy. in fact, wonwoo requires a moment just to breathe and let the heat circulate properly through his body.

with his fingers covered in the sticky mess of his cum, wonwoo approaches the bed again, fingering it as deep as he can inside you. he’s unable to remove his gaze from the filthy sight. there’s something so raw and intimate about watching his own seed getting pumped into you that sets his whole body aflame. he decides to let you orgasm as well, stimulating your g-spot consistently, letting you clamp down tight and ride his hand until you’ve got a full fix.

wonwoo supposes he’s done his job.

“i don’t think i’ll ever be able to look at an ice cube the same way again.” you laugh, sitting back against the headboard, tucked into his t-shirt.

drawing a warm washcloth between your thighs, wonwoo blinks at you, a very sly grin forming on his mouth. he plants a kiss on your nose.

“good. means it worked.” the boy says.

he folds the cloth over and finishes the last of his cleaning, ensuring there’s nothing more of his fluids that are still leaking out or anything sticking from your orgasm. grabbing your overnight bag off the floor, wonwoo pulls out a fresh pair of underwear and helps you slide into them. your lingerie sits in a pile off to the side, a few lace straps ripped.

“sorry about your little outfit.” wonwoo apologizes, staring at you earnestly. “it was pretty. you look good in everything.” he squeezes your hip and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“it’s okay.” you murmur. “i’ll order something even better. and i’ll surprise you with it. maybe for your birthday. sound good?”

“mmhm.” wonwoo purrs, pulling you down with him to cuddle up close for the night.

“as long as i can take it off you, sweetheart, i’m fine with that.”

#seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #svt smut #jeon wonwoo #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #svt fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #svt x reader #wonwoo x reader

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falsegoodnight · 4 years ago

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these are the fics I read or reread and enjoyed this month! like last time, i’m separating it into different sections: main list, podfics, wips, and non-1d. rereads will be included in the main list and marked with *.

*note: this list encompasses the fics i’ve read from the 1st to the 25th and any fics read after will be included in next month’s fic rec list because otherwise this is going to be obnoxiously long.

—

main list ~

✰ black cherries and chocolate by @harryanthus | NR | 666 (intense and jarring in the best way. this leaves you with that heart-racing feeling and panic crawling up your throat)

There is something or well, someone in the walls.

✰ keep secrets just to keep you by @hadestyles | T | 1k (loved this so much!! and need 1000000 more royalty abos from rori immediately)

“With the elements as my witness, I take you to be my husband. My heartbeat begins with you and ends with you, Louis Tomlinson.” Louis sinks to his knees as well, salty tears mixing with the pure rainwater. “And I take you as mine. My heart beats for you and with you.”

✰ bitter coffee and sweet love by @dontfuckwithmyotp | G | 1k (so cute and sweet!! proud of you ari for getting your first fic out and excited to see what you do next!)

“Hello! Welcome to The Busy Bean! Are you new?” Louis blinked in surprise at the voice and looked around to find the source. “Behind you,” The person tapped his shoulder once and he whirled around at the unexpected touch.

“Hey! Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to interrupt a person—” His rant stopped when he finally faced them. It was a guy—Harry Styles, according to his small black name tag. His eyes widened in embarrassment.

✰ turn your mic off, baby by @vogueharrystan | E | 2k (i love when lilli writes harry’s pov. this was so hot!)

Louis walks around the house naked all day and ignores Harry to play video games instead. Harry gets tired of it.

✰ This Could Be Love by mulletharry | G | 2k (such a cute and perfect little valentine’s day fic! put the biggest smile on my face <3)

Harry and Louis have been together for four months. They spend their first Valentine’s Day together.

✰ you appear as my soul by @hadestyles | T | 2k (so gorgeous and raw)

He aches — not as much as Louis, he could never imagine all that he bears quietly — and as cruel as it sounds, it keeps reminding him of how fragile they are.

✰ the energy from your body by sweetielouis | E | 3k (hilarious, hot, and cute!)

Harry and his friends have a popular podcast, for the Valentines Day special they get a bit drunk and talk a bit too comfortably about their friends arses.

It's a good thing Louis doesn't mind it all that much.

✰ look how i remember by @harryanthus | M | 4k (this left me speechless and aching)

He hates it, he wants to scream and tell Harry as much. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me as if we are in love. Kiss me like you will never do it again. Kiss me with so much hatred that it turns back to love.

✰ Things Unsaid by @londonfoginacup | G | 5k (so so cute and funny!!)

"That chunky oversized sweater is like a clown outfit made for winter."

It feels like time slows down.

Those words echo in his mind, familiar. Why are they familiar? The— the sweater he saw last week. The one with all the knit squares.

The train slows to a stop and Louis just— he doesn’t move. He feels frozen in place as people surge around him. Suddenly everyone is moving too fast and then just as suddenly the car is near empty, taking off again.

The man is gone.

His soulmate is gone.

✰ reckless serenade by @thepolourryexpress | E | 4k (adorable and funny and amazing!)

Harry's Google search history may or may not look like 'my girlfriend doesn't know we're dating.'

✰ dancing in the moonlight by @outropeace | E | 5k (need 100k more of this immediately, thanks. so wonderful)

Louis’ fuck buddy gets a date for Valentine’s day and he discovers that denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.

✰ The truth is, the stars are falling by larrysbeanies | E | 5k (hot!!! walking-in trope that i love so much)

Harry knows Louis is gay. Hell, he came out to Harry exactly two months ago (when the dreadful dry spell started) because it was becoming increasingly hard to hide the fact that his one night stands were men. And, you know, they’re best friends so there aren’t supposed to be secrets and all that.

Thing is, Louis told Harry he’s gay ergo, Harry is aware that Louis likes men. Why the fuck did he act so normal while fingering him three days ago, then? Is this something straight guys do to their gay best friends in Harry’s world?

Louis would really like to know.

✰ to be used and to be in love by @thelesserneptune | E | 5k (blessed that this is a series. really hot and cute!)

Louis doesn't know why his filthy best friend turned into a vanilla boyfriend and thinks of the perfect birthday present to solve that problem.

✰ on the borderline by @princelouisau | E | 8k (the way danielle writes... poetry. this broke me down and then stitched me back up <3)

Louis makes his choice.

✰ One Step Closer by agrinwithouthiscat | G | 12k (reading asexual hl fics is instant comfort and this was lovely)

The one fake relationship AU where they don't end up together.

✰ i glow pink in the night by @raspberryoatss | E | 12k (hybrid louis perfection, beautiful writing, characters, and story as always!)

Harry reads a lot of articles about hybrids and Louis is determined to prove them wrong.

✰ The Thinker of Tender Thoughts by @speakingwithink | G | 13k (asexual hl again! this one made me cry)

Louis sits on his hands to stop them from shaking as he adds, ‘and I’m ace.’ If only he had glitter, he thinks. Coming out deserves a bit of sparkle.

✰ Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice by @harriblou | M | 13k (enemies with benefits to lovers goodness! so hot and entertaining)

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that,” Harry muttered through clenched teeth, bones already burning with the pure desire and hatred mixing in his body. It was an intoxicating rush of adrenaline and something else that probably came with fucking Louis Tomlinson. He squeezed his neck just a little tighter. “I can’t stand it.”

Their lips were brushing against each other, just moving with the ragged movements of their mouths and harsh breathing.

“You’re a lying piece of shit dickhead,” Louis muttered right back. That was all he did, challenge and nag. He loved to have the last word and Harry let him because he used all his energy to fuck him mindless.

✰ hold onto your stars by vashtaneradas | NR | 16k (this writer’s atmosphere/prose draws me in every time. such a lovely story)

Harry's in the army, Louis' back home, and ninety days is a lifetime.

✰ The Future is Now by @jacaranda-bloom | E | 16k (love fics in this five times format and this one was so unique and cool!! and the friends to lovers aspect = chef’s kiss)

Five times Louis follows the fortunes to seek out his true love, and the one time he realises that what he's been searching for might've been right in front of him the whole time.

✰ Visceral Heat & Carnal Highs by @theisolatedlily | E | 18k (the prose in this... gorgeous. so fucking good and addicting. delighted that there’s going to be a sequel and excited for whatever lily does next!)

Louis is a demon at a house party prowling for a meal, indulging in horrendous sins to satisfy his hunger. Harry is the talk of the night, beckoning all eyes on him and the reason why Louis’s plan goes awry.

✰ deFENCEless by @solvetheminourdreams | T | 27k (this was so cute and so funny and i had the biggest smile on my face the entire time. not surprised since stef always evokes that in me with her writing)

When Louis butts heads with his new neighbor who loves to garden a little too much, all he can do to protect his yard (and heart), is keep on building up his fence(s).

✰ darling, you give love a bad name by snowcaplou | M | 29k (been waiting for this one since summer and i wasn’t disappointed! so wonderful and real!)

Louis’ has been best friends with Gemma all his life in this stupid little town he’s grown to hate. What happens when, after one night together with his best friend’s brother, he falls pregnant? Surrounded by small minds and conservative cultures, Louis has to deal with parents that demand they do the “right” thing. Get married before anybody finds out.

✰ The Haunting of Louis Tomlinson* by @helloamhere | T | 31k (will never not be an all-time favorite. louis’ character is my absolute favorite - gothic heroine indeed - and harry is the best dramatic gay ghost ever <3)

Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

✰ begged and borrowed time by @bottomlwt | M | 40k (this concept was so unique and so cool!! loved the medieval setting and the time travel and how everything fit together in the end!!)

“It wasn’t until 1568 that it became time for Prince Harry to find a queen and prepare to rule. However, the day he was set to choose his bride-to-be, he mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen again despite the multiple search parties that went on through the years. To this day, historians still do not know what happened with the infamous Prince Styles case..."

✰ Lidocaine and Palm Trees.* by @daddyharrie | E | 45k (definition of ris comfort read - on nth reread and still love it wholly. makes me miss la which is an astonishing feat in itself)

Heat, fake tans and lots of traffic.

Harry never expected to earn his living this way when he moved to LA.

Louis didn't think he could ever be the same after his divorce.

A lighthearted story about two guys trying to find themselves in the vibrant, sprawling city of Los Angeles, with a side of technical porn industry stuff.

✰ haunted by the ghost of you* by @missandrogyny | E | 49k (perhaps my favorite fic of all time? the humor, the characters, the angst?!?! all the britney spears!! and pink ouija boards and wikihow!!)

He’s tall—that’s the first thing that registers in Louis’ head when he spots him, standing with his hands behind his back. Tall, with curly hair, staring at them with the widest, greenest eyes Louis has ever seen. And wait, are those dimples? Louis didn’t know ghosts could have dimples.

Because he’s definitely a ghost, this boy. At first glance he looks normal, standing there pigeon-toed in a band shirt (The Ramones, Louis can’t help but note incredulously), dark jeans, and some boots, with rings on both hands, and tattoos littering his left arm—a sleeve made of anchors and names and roses and other completely unrelated things. But he’s also a little bit translucent; if Louis focuses, he can see the outline of the furniture, the design of the wallpaper through him.

“Hi,” the boy—the ghost—says to Louis. His face shifts; somehow his dimples dig deeper into his cheeks. His eyes flit from Louis, to Niall, to Liam, and finally to Zayn, and his face goes from shocked to elated. “I’m Harry.”

At in that exact moment, standing between three of his best friends and staring at a (quite handsome) ghost, Louis can only think one thing.

Nick Grimshaw was right.

✰ like real people do by @eeveelou | E | 64k (this was... so amazing. the characters were so wonderfully written and so was the journey of healing and growth that louis undertakes over the story :’) loved the contrast between l and h’s lives and how they fit into each other still so perfectly)

Jessica Jones AU in which the dead stay where they belong, featuring Zayn as the high-powered lawyer with a hopeless crush on his assistant Liam, Niall as the constantly stoned but strangely insightful neighbor, Harry as Manhattan’s media darling, and Louis as the never-was hero who’s just trying to pick up the pieces.

✰ Black With Autumn Rain by whimsicule | T | 93k (i actually can’t remember if i’ve read this before??? either way - it was wonderful! loved the setting and atmosphere and the supernatural elements! i was so intrigued from the first sentence onwards)

Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren’t exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

podfics ~

✰ tall stories on the page by @soldouthaz & read by @softlouislove | T (hannah’s voice is so lovely and perfect for reading aloud - and ofc the fic itself is amazing)

Harry's tired of being interviewed by people that only care about the same pointless gossip. Louis is a nice change of pace.

wips ~

✰ Truth Behind Golden Eyes by @lwtisloved | E | 60k | 6/16 (just caught up fully today but i’m really enjoying everything! this is everything i’ve ever wanted in a fantasy fic)

Louis is a royal servant born with magic in a kingdom where his sole existence is outlawed with a war he has no idea he has a part in upon him. Harry is the prince on whom the burden of mending a broken kingdom falls upon and he might be willing to risk it all for a simple servant if only he admitted it to himself.

✰ ‘cause all our tomorrows lead the way by @loubellies | E | 39k | 3/10 (having a blast reading this one!! i’ve never seen the bachelor in my life but in fic-format, it’s so fun!)

So maybe Louis’ in over his head.

He had signed up for the Bachelor on a whim after his second bottle of wine and well, here he is. He’s just been announced as the twenty-sixth Bachelor and his ass is sweating. Like, literally sweating. He’s positive that if he was to turn around, the entirety of Bachelor Nation would get a nice peek of his ass sweat.

✰ The Night Still Whispers Sins of Old by @toomanydreamers | E | 6k | 2/? (loving this so much, as expected. can’t wait to see how everything unfolds)

Two and a half years have passed since the fateful day when Louis and Harry were crowned Triwizard champions. Confronted with misunderstandings, wounded pride and heartache, Louis stumbled away from the possibility of a future relationship with Harry. Instead, he buried himself into relentless work as a junior Auror and refused to let himself be vulnerable with another person. Circumstances change that force Louis to confront his feelings - and Harry. Stolen glances, picnics at sunrise, thrilling adventures, original spellwork, midnight feasts, soft lips and cautious second chances culminate in an unforgettable mission - but will it be enough to mend their relationship?

non-1d ~

✰ like a bullet needs a gun by @millsxwriting | T | 21k | wilds au (despite me having no context, mills still got me to fall in love with toni and shelby. this was so cute and lovely!!)

Toni doesn’t expect to fall for anyone in her senior year. Least of all for Shelby Goodkind, the new girl that arrived in town just before the end of summer. In fact, Toni can’t even look at her for longer than two seconds, or listen to more than three sentences coming out of her mouth without wanting to accidentally push her off a cliff.

Cue a group project and endless bickering, and suddenly Toni finds herself with an unbearable crush.

If you read any of these beautiful works of art, remember to leave kudos and comment to show your appreciation!

*if i made any errors, please let me know :)

enjoy!

#fic recs #my fic recs #28th appreciation #february recs #2021 recs #february 2021 recs #scheduled

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starlightrows · 4 years ago

Text

Something Sweet

Chapter 0 - Chasing Dreams

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Modern!Paz Vizsla x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: angst, symptoms of depression (not graphic or diagnosed), brief mention of alcohol and drug use, hopeful ending

Summary: Paz finds himself trapped in a routine that’s keeping him tied to a lifestyle that brings him no joy. It’s not until a phone call from his good friend Din, that he realizes that there are better things waiting just over the horizon if you can just be brave enough to make the leap of faith

This chapter is labeled chapter 0, because it takes places before the events of the actual story and does not include the reader. If you’re only here for the couply-goodness, feel free to skip this chapter and sit tight the romance is coming I promise!

Chapter 0 - Chasing Dreams is dedicated to @maybege who inspires me to chase my fan fiction dreams every single day, and is single handedly responsible for my love, yearning, and obsession with the Big Blue Mando Man we all know and love as Paz Vizsla! This is one is for you May ❤️

The 5am train is full of commuters, heading into work with coffee cups in hand and more or less rested ready to start the day. Everyone seems to be on the same page, consume enough caffeine to be personable by the time you get to the office, use the time on the train to do your hair or makeup or start a little early on emails from your phone if you’re behind. It’s all very hustle and bustle, keep your head down and keep grinding to make it in the big city.

Paz rode the 5am train every morning. But not heading into the city. No, he got on the train at 5am and rode it all the way down to the end of the line to get back to his dumpy little shoebox of an apartment on the outskirts of the city around 8am.

Why he chose to move to the city after getting out of the Marine Corps was beyond him. His commander told him that he had a friend that was looking to hire some muscle as private security for his upper echelon nightclubs and it could be a good job opportunity for him fresh out of the service. Not having anywhere else to go, he took the job. Now his days blurred together in a lopsided haze. Wake up around 3pm, eat something cheap and tasteless, work out, shower and get dressed to work. Catch the 6pm train into the city and spend all three hours thinking about far away places. What his life might be like if he was someone else or somewhere else. Get to the club and start work at 9pm. Spend the night watching people dance and sing and scream, drink ridiculously expensive alcohol and take brightly colored party drugs that blow out their pupils and make them want to dance and sing more. By the time 5am rolls around again his head is pounding from listening to electronic dance music for 8 continuous hours, and he spends the remaining 3 hours of his day riding the train back out of the city and wishing he had made different choices in his life.

Of course he does get Monday’s and Tuesday’s off, those days he still doesn’t really know what to do with himself. It’s too expensive to have a car in the city, so he can’t drive anywhere. And he’s too far away from any of the attractions of the city to walk to them. So he tends to spend his off days either walking around the track at the local park, or in his tiny kitchen kneading bread dough and baking test batches until it comes out the way he liked it. This is one of the big things he spends his time wondering about. If he kept up working in private security, and paying for this shit apartment, would he someday be able to afford to move closer to work and spend less time commuting? Maybe he could eventually save up and get a place with a bigger kitchen so he could try making more things. He liked baking. Kneading bread dough, making cake batter, mixing frosting colors. It’s telling that a man like him dreamt about pastries and cooking every night, and spent his long commuting hours debating on saving up more for a better place or spending a little extra on culinary equipment.

He didn’t tell anybody this is how he spent his time and money, not that he really talked to anyone these days anyway. Since leaving the service he hasn’t been good about keeping up with his brothers in arms, or his friends from before getting deployed. He hasn’t really made new friends in the city either. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to any of them, he’s just busy and when he does think about reaching out to someone, he always figures they’re busy too. Every day the sun rises and sets, and it’s like he’s just floating through life, waiting for something to change.

One Monday, Paz is walking around the track at the local park. It’s scraggly and not well maintained but at least it’s outdoors. He’s thinking about the sourdough loaf back in his apartment rising right now. Hopefully this one will turn out good, he’s planning to try a dutch oven bake soon, but that requires buying a dutch oven and he’s trying so hard to save up for a better apartment. His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he considers just letting it go to voicemail figuring it was probably his boss asking him to come in and work tonight. But something in him tells him to look, the name on the screen surprises him. Din Djarin. His long time friend from way back before joining the service. Paz answered the phone.

“Hey buddy, Happy Birthday!” Din says. Paz stopped walking

“It’s not my birthday?” Paz stepped off to the side of the track and sat down on a bench running a hand over his face.

Din laughs on the other end of the line, “Yeah it is, April 30th right?”

Paz pulls his phone away from his face and checks the date, “Holy shit, it is my birthday,”

“Yeah man. Did you really forget?” Din asks, he sounds like he’s moving around Paz hopes he’s not bothering him or getting in the way of his day right now.

“Honestly yeah, it feels like April just started,” he admits

“Been busy then? Running around in the big city, making big money, romancing cute hunnies?” Din teases, Paz can hear another voice on the other side. He figure’s it’s Din’s son, he’s gotta be about two or three years old now.

“Yeah, something like that,” Paz mumbles

“Yeah? Then why don’t you sound happy about it?” Din asks, sensing his friends lack of enthusiasm

“It’s fine, really. The city is nice, I just wish I could actually live in it and enjoy it. Actually I wish everyone who lived here actually enjoyed it. Kinda just feels like everyone who lives here only knows how to work or be a strung out party goer,” Paz sighs

“Guess the big city life isn’t all it's cracked up to be huh,” Din says “Listen… you should come out to visit sometime. I feel like this city is more your style. We’re still a major city with nice attractions and events, but there’s more community here and things are a little slower ya know,”

“I can’t just drop everything and go all the way out there. You live over 2000 miles away,” Paz says, though the prospect of a smaller city with a community atmosphere does sound awfully appealing

“Paz, you’ve been working for a private security company for two years and I can almost guarantee that you haven’t taken a single hour of paid time off or sick leave. Flights are a little pricey, I’ll give you that, but you can stay with me so you don’t have to pay for a hotel or anything,” Din offers “I’ll pay for your half of your flight, call it a birthday present,”

“I’ll tell you what Din, I’ll think about it. You’re probably right, I do need to get out of the city for a bit. I’ll talk to the boss about taking some time off,” Paz says, standing back up.

“That’s the spirit!” Din exclaims “Call me when you figure out a time that’s good for you so we can book you a flight,”

Paz and Din chat idly for another couple of minutes before Din bids him goodbye, and happy birthday. Paz tucks his phone back into his pocket and smiles. For the first time in a very long time, he’s actually looking forward to something.

----

Two weeks later Paz is sitting on a plane for the first time since coming back to the states after deployment, with two weeks off of paid vacation time on his way to visit Din. It’s a long six and half hour flight and the seat is pretty small for how wide his frame is, but he’s hopeful. If nothing else, he was going to get to spend two weeks with his best friend.

Din is waiting for him at the airport when his flight arrives. He greets him with a bracing hug and the promise of a really good dinner waiting for him. The moment Paz steps out of the airport he knows he’s in trouble. Instead of a massive industrial looking city full of high rise buildings with thousands of people pushing their way through to get on with their day, he’s met with bright blue skies. Trees that are just starting to put out new leaves and flowers for spring. The air is fresh and clear. A feeling wells up in his chest, when he turns and can see mountains in the distance. It’s beautiful.

“You coming?” Din draws him out of his thoughts, tossing his suitcase in the back of his truck.

“Yeah, I just didn’t realize you lived so close to the mountains,” Paz admitted stepping up into the passenger seat.

“Everyone says that when they first come here. You should see them in winter when they’re covered in snow,” Din says. Paz can imagine it, but he hopes to see it with his own eyes.

Din drives through the city, it’s a lot like the city Paz had just come from, except older and less flashy. Less people, and less cars. All of the businesses looked unique and inviting.

Din passes a street and points down it without looking, “My studio is right down there. It’s a great little spot. All the business owners on the block are close, we play poker and shoot pool on Tuesday nights at the bar on the corner. You’re definitely coming with me for that this week,”

“I could shoot some pool,” Paz laughs.

Din turns out of the downtown area, and takes a main boulevard lined with fast food restaurants and dive bars. Din points again, “That’s the stadium for the university. Hope you like football, because it’s kind of a big thing here,”

“Still think I could have pulled a scholarship for football straight out of high school if I wasn’t so dead set on going into the Marine Corps,” Paz jokes

“It’s just as well,” Din shrugs with a smile “you make one hell of a Marine,”

Din turns down another road off the main drag. They pass parks, an elementary school, neighborhoods, and a lone Dairy Queen before turning into another neighborhood full of very nice houses with front lawns and trees giving off pink and white flower buds.

Din pulls the truck up into one of the driveways, and cuts the engine. Paz gets out of the truck and takes in the house. It’s massive by his standards.

“Is your girlfriend a CEO or something?” Paz asks with a laugh. Din gives him a look, and goes to take the suitcase out of the back.

“No? She and her brothers flip houses together,” he replies “why do you ask?”

“Your place is huge, man! When I was a kid these are the kind of houses I thought millionaires lived in,” Paz follows Din towards the front door.

Din laughs, as he unlocks the door. “Maybe in other states, but not here. The million dollar houses here are the size of castles. This house is pretty average for this area, and it didn’t cost us an arm and a leg to get,”

Paz nods and follows his friend into the house. It’s not just a house, it’s a home. Paz can tell because even though it’s clean on the inside it looks lived in, well loved. Pictures and art on the walls. The living room had a big tv and sectional couch, perfect for hosting game day events and watch parties. He could see a chest in the corner that clearly had toys in it. The kitchen was huge! A double doored refrigerator, cabinet space and marble countertops. He can see through a sliding glass door there’s a backyard, a play structure and home swing set sat in the middle of it for Din’s little boy. He didn’t have any pets but he could picture a dog running around out there too.

This is it. This is what he’d spent the last two years dreaming about on the train rides to and from the city. This is his far away place. He’s been here for less than half an hour and he already knows, he is meant to be here.

The next two weeks are the happiest Paz has ever felt. Exploring the downtown area, visiting the parks and the nature reserve just outside of town, the restaurants serve great food that doesn’t cost a fortune. He takes Din’s little boy to the zoo and out for ice cream. He gets to know Din’s girlfriend and her two brothers, apparently flipping houses in some of the older more run down parts of town is very rewarding and breathes new life into the city. He visits Din’s tattoo studio, and goes with him to the bar on Tuesday night like he promised.

Everyone there is friendly, welcoming and adamantly against him leaving at the end of the week.

“You sure you have to go back, you’re part of the crew man!” says Cara, she owns the boxing studio down the street.

Paz took a swing from his beer, and laughed “You think I want to go back there? I gotta figure out how to get out of my lease, quit my job. I gotta find somewhere to live and work here first,”

“If you’re looking for a job just to get on your feet, I could use another bartender,” Boba, the guy who owns the bar says “Fennec is looking to move to part time too, more time slots available for work,”

“If you’re serious, I’ll take you up on that offer,” Paz says.

Boba extends a hand to him, “Job’s yours if you want it,” Paz grins and shakes his hand.

A few days later Paz is genuinely sad about having to hug Din’s little boy goodbye, and get back on the plane to take him back across the country. Back to the city that never sleeps, and doesn’t appreciate the little things in life. Back to the six hours round trip of commuting. Back to the scraggly uncared for parks and dirty streets. He promised himself on that plane ride, he would not get caught up in the monotony and blinding routine like before. There is a better life waiting for him. All he has to do is make the leap of faith and take it.

———

He holds himself to his promise. In the first week when he got back he spent the entire three hour train ride to work researching apartments in the area he wanted to live. He was shocked to find out the exact same price he was paying for his shoebox apartment with no amenities and terrible maintenance; could get him a huge apartment with a big kitchen, access to a pool, gym, and shared entertainment space. It even came with a parking spot. And there were other options that were almost as nice for less money. And to think he had wasted so much time and money pretending he was happy, or was getting close to being able to afford to be happy living in the bigger city. What a joke.

He had Din submit an application to an apartment complex he really liked about a week after he got back. The second he found out he was approved and got the apartment, he put in his two weeks notice and started packing. Another six hours plane trip didn’t sound very appealing but, at least it was a one way trip this time.

Paz found moving out of his apartment to be exceptionally easy. He threw all of his belongings into two suitcases, and shipped the few things that wouldn’t fit in a box he could pick up at the post office when he got there. Everything else was not worth saving, so he put everything out on the side of the road in front of his old apartment with a piece of paper taped to it that read: FREE!

Unfortunately moving into the new apartment in the new city was a little more challenging. Furnishing an apartment from scratch is no small task. But to his amazement and truly heartfelt joy, all of Din’s friends he had met when he came to visit helped him move things into his new place. Boba even loaned him his truck to go pick up bigger furniture like the couch and bed frame he ordered. Cara and Peli, the woman who owned the auto parts store on the next block over from Din’s studio and Boba’s bar, sat with him for hours assembling IKEA furniture. Din’s girlfriend even came by with Din’s little boy, to visit uncle Paz and help him figure out how to appropriately decorate and furnish a “real apartment”.

He loves his new life in this new city. Working for Boba at the bar in the evenings is pretty low stress, and he makes quite a bit in tips. During the day he’s been working on sourdough starters, determining the best herbs and flavors to top focaccia bread, trying his hand at doing French baguettes. And more recently, he’s been trying to make chocolate croissants from scratch. Though he hasn’t had much success yet. But he keeps trying.

Every time something comes out perfect, he writes down every step in a blue notebook he found lying around with his things before he moved.

Paz never imagined his life turning out like this. If he was told just 3 months ago he would be moving across the country on a whim, to chase his dream of living a simpler life, he wouldn’t have believed it. And then things got even better.

About six months after moving, Paz really felt like he was home in this city. He split his time between working part time as an instructor at Cara’s boxing studio, bartending for Boba, and working on his culinary hobby. Until one day, the older couple that owned the bagel shop a few doors down from Din’s tattoo studio closed up shop. Apparently they were retiring, packing up the business and moving out of state to be closer to their grandchildren.

There was a sign on the vacant building indicating the unit was about to become available. A thought crossed his mind…. he had no idea where it came from or if he was remotely qualified to pull it off… but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

“Does anyone have a contact number for the couple that owned the bagel shop?” Paz asks the group

“Yeah,” Cara pipes up “I house sat for them once. Why?”

“I want to buy their industrial baking equipment, and takeover their lease,” he replies seriously

“You want to run the bagel shop?” Fennec asks

“No… I uh, I wanna open a bakery,” Paz admits

“You do make a mean sourdough dude…. I say go for it,” Din encourages him

“I’m sure they’ll sell you the equipment at a discount. Hell they might even leave it to you for free if you tell them what you’re gonna do with it,” Cara tells him, she writes down a phone number on a napkin and hands it to Paz. He pockets the napkin with a thank you and a nod.

The next day he calls the number, and has a lovely chat with the wife who, as Cara pointed out, was eager to get the equipment off their hands. She also provided a ton of helpful information on running a small business in this area, who trustworthy suppliers were, a good lawyer to get all the paperwork done, a good accountant to file taxes next spring, and more. Honestly it was a lot more than Paz has even considered, but something in his heart was telling him it’s the right decision. That this is a challenge he absolutely had to tackle. That maybe this has always been his calling.

And right he was. Vizsla’s Bakery had a grand debut the following autumn. And he knew, this is it. He’s finally made it. All of the time he spent in the Marines fighting in wars he never truly understood, all of his years spent working a mindless job in a depressing city, pretending he was not struggling. All of it has led him here. To a city he loves, with friends so close to him they’re like family, a home… a real home. And a dream he can finally live out.

Tag List: @maybege

#Star Wars #The Mandalorian #Paz Vizsla #Paz Vizsla x reader #Paz Viszla #Paz Viszla x reader #Pastry Chef!Paz AU #Pastry Chef!Paz #Modern!AU #Modern!Paz Vizsla

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