#she says woes of the day are go drinking with friend time
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@moonstoneandopal gets a little treat
❝ Wong! ❞ She calls out, the smile in her voice must be obvious, ❝ Please tell me your chores ⸺ ❞ To which she meant important duties tied to being Sorcerer Supreme. ❝ are done, and attend The Bar with No Doors ⸺ ❞ She'll pout if she has to, throw her titles around, because surely wouldn't say no to the Warlord of Manhattan, Sorcerer Supreme of the Dark Dimension, and one of his dear friends. ❝ with me? ❞
#you're reading the run where bar with no doors was invented#blend in some mcu canon that he is sorcerer supreme ? cause it's what he deserves ?#she says woes of the day are go drinking with friend time#moonstoneandopal#moonstoneandopal; wong#[ IC ] Clea Strange
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Zhu Bajie: do you exercise Travel Companion: I like to run away from my problems and feelings
The dialogue is based off a scene from Doctor Who. I don't think that my OC would be going with Zhu Bajie and the Destined One into the rock for the final battle (probably cause she is not able to enter) so she has to sit outside and wait anxiously for them to return.
She is happy to see them return but then also immediately notices how the Destined One's whole demeanour and aura changed. She knew that this point was going to happen where he inherits everything and becomes the new Monkey King, but I also think that she has a hard time wrapping her head around the concept of reincarnation and struggles with accepting it.
So yeah, I imagine the moment after new Sun Wukong comes out of the rock, it's an angsty moment. He just wants to see his best friend and tell her what happened, and now that he is finally "whole" again be able to propely have conversations with her and ask her about all the weird things she says and does, but instead she looks at him like she is very unsure of everything.
Sun Wukong doesn't really have the temper imo or at least here things get a bit heated and he snaps and well, she does what she is best at in situations like this: fucking book it :)))))
Obviously SWK wants to chase after her but Zhu Bajie helds him back and says "ayo kiddo give the lassie some time to process everything, she will come around" he doesn't want to but he knows that is what she needs atm.
Where is Travel Companion hiding meanwhile? In the Zodiac village, the Yin Tiger offered her a spare bedroom, and in exchange she helps around, with the crops, bringing materials back and forth and also has some good times drinking and sharing stories with the villager. Maybe also crying about her woes, and I think that the villager sharing their stories about SWK and explain more about his backstory and stuff helps the her to come around more.
also SWK knows she is there and comes by every day to get his harvest and the free medicing from your local meth dealer Xu Dog. She is hiding in Yin Tiger's lil blacksmith hut everytime he is visiting, but she knows that he knows that she knows that he is there.
And then one day when he is visting Yin Tiger, SWK sighs and goes all "hey bud can you pass this message to Travel Companion," and inserts some very sweet and sappy stuff, knowing that she is there and can hear him. Just as he is about to leave she decides to come out of her hiding spot and go "Hey... let's go talk somewhere more private".
SWK is not showing any emotions but you can tell by the flicker of his tail that he is relieved to see her. Bit worried about the dark eye circle and how not well-rested she looks like, but he will make sure to fix that soon.
#szynkART#wow that basically an entire fanfic lmfao#except it's not really a fanfic because I cannot write TT___TT#hey so any writer wanna swap skills with me for a month#let me write all the self-indulging fanfics and you get to draw all the selfindulging fanart#oh yeah also my OC had a massive school girl crush on Yin Tiger the first time she saw him#and he knows that but he is all like “gurl I am old enough to be your great great great great great great great grandfather”#but he cares for her#cepheus baskerville#black myth wukong#sun wukong x oc#sun wukong x reader
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— BURNER CELL ; 2 ; DABI ; 荼毗
summary: after a week of silence, you finally text dabi. pairing: dabi / f!reader ; quirkless word count: 1.3k tag: humor, maladjusted dabi meets normal adult woman, flirting, canon-based world building, cancer mention, texting as a plot device, slight au, univeristy student!reader a/n: this stole all my concentration. siri play emo boy by ayesha erotica ← previous | the tag
It's the kind of week where, aside from class, human interaction isn't really on life's setlist.
It's also the kind of week where you rediscover making a meal of raw cookie dough straight from the package. Your econ textbook might have a stranglehold on you, but you make enough time to scarf down a few globs between chapters — after all, who needs protein or fiber when you're sure this five-year master's program will kill you first?
Your head hurts.
You slump against the counter, refilling your water bottle.
It's late now — and you can feel the quiet woes beginning to wane as you blink at the clock. By now, your friends are probably on their second or third drinks. You turned the invite down when they asked yesterday. Nuri tugged on your sweater sleeve and pouted the best pout she could manage, but you didn't budge.
I've gotta finish this paper, I'm sorry, Nur'.
You roll your jaw as you shut the faucet off, wandering to your freezer to wrangle some cubes from the tray. You bend it slowly, deep in thought. A few pop out, and you idly drop them into your water bottle with a twang.
You're staring at your phone. It's by your computer on the counter.
...You never did text Dabi.
You told yourself it was for the best — after all, you weren't looking for a catastrophic derailment of your life at the moment. Things are good. You're two semesters away from finishing University, your family's bakery back in Kyoto is doing well, and Dad's chemotherapy seems to be working. Things are good! It's almost fall, you've managed to stick to your monthly budget, and Mizu settled in happily to your new apartment.
No four-day poop strike like the last time you moved.
The large tuxedo cat in question ambles through the kitchen — brushing against your leg and letting out a long, low mrrooow.
Things are great!
You shouldn't text Dabi.
But... even if you did, it's not like it'd be the end of the world, right?
Wait, could he figure out where you lived from your number...?
You could use one of those anonymous texting services. Then, it wouldn't even be your number. Just some fake string of digits that allow you to satiate the bizarre curiosity that's been swirling in your head for the last week.
You're sure the novelty will wear off.
He's probably not even going to respond.
You're telling yourself this is stupid as you begin to set up an account with the service — the app boasts privacy, andunlimited calls and texts... You can't help but feel a little strange as you finalize your account.
It's done.
You import his contact with two taps and stare at the blank screen.
...Now what?
Are you really going to do this? I mean — he's a wanted criminal. He's a member of the League of Villains. If anyone ever found out you were in contact with him, you'd be toast. You'd have All Might kicking your door in and demanding to look through your phone and that mental image is enough to make you cringe. Say goodbye to your degree, goodbye toyour future as Sakura Flour's owner, and goodbye to freedom. You're sure the Safety Commission would place you on some watch list for the rest of your life, and frankly, your tweets are already questionable. You don't need more scrutiny.
...So, there are two options.
Delete his number and move on... or don't get caught.
You shouldn't text Dabi.
...But, you do.
Truth be told, he isn't shocked to see that cute Nuri girl hanging on Giran's arm again. The Broker seems pretty into her — the guy even mentioned something about taking her to a nice dinner during the week as a congrats on passing some big test. Dabi can't blame him. She's cute. Looks good in red. Not his type, but he can appreciate it from time to time.
However, Dabi is a little shocked that you're not a part of the group cheering in Giran's VIP section. There's bottle service being ordered, laughter, dancing, and a gaggle of pretty, five college girls — and none of them are you.
His lips twist into a scowl.
He decides he's leaving; his piss-poor drink is tossed back, and he dumps a bill down for the bartender before tugging his hood up and sucking his teeth.
He never liked this club anyway.
He's crossing the threshold of the back door, stepping into the damp and dark alley, when the phone in his back pocket buzzes. Someone's smoking a Marlboro by the dumpster. The familiar smell makes Dabi's fingers twitch.
He's tryna quit.
He tugs the phone from his pocket, no longer bothered by the splintered glass screen. His battery is at 13%. This fuckin' thing barely holds a charge anymore.
The number on the screen isn't one he knows.
Dabi's passcode is unnecessarily long. His phone clicks open as he narrows his eyes and shambles towards the opening in the alley. He doesn't know this number. He has everyone's cell memorized that he needs. Shigaraki, Toga, Spinner, Jin, Compress, even Giran. He doesn't keep contacts. Doesn't work when he's ditching phones all the time. He's got his noggin. That's good enough.
The text is one word:
hi.
Dabi's squinting at the text when another buzzes through.
← 909.999.3399 ; 11:48pm sorry, this is bar girl
→ dabi ; 11:46pm thought u were never gonna txt me ur girlie nuri is here where r u
There's no way.
Your phone buzzes three times from its far place where it sits face down on the counter — you just walked away from it, hellbent on distracting yourself while you waited out the potential reply. You go rigid in your kitchen.
Did he seriously text you back immediately?
You purse your lips, then slink towards the phone. It buzzes again.
→ dabi ; 11:47pm c'mon don't leave me hangin pretty
Your eyes are wide as you stare at the string of replies. He has read receipts turned on like the psychopath he is.
You lean back against the counter, chewing your cuticle as you let out a ragged sigh. Nuri is with him? Or... No, they said they were going to that club you hate.
← 909.999.3399 ; 11:4pam oh, are they at the bar?
Dabi's fingers move fast.
→ dabi ; 11:49pm nah in downtown club tropical or whatever the fuck it's called
You snort a little.
← 909.999.3399 ; 11:49pm i hate that place. their drinks suck.
Dabi has started making his way back to their hideout — back to the shit box apartments they're renting above Kurogiri's bar. He's slow, idly texting as he weaves through the crowds of nightlife in Kamino Ward.
→ dabi ; 11:50pm a girl after my own heart where r u ur dodging my question u on a date or smthng????
He's insistent, you'll give him that. You cross your legs as you lean back against the laminate counter and chew the inside of your lip.
He's typing. It starts, then stops, then starts again.
When you start typing, the bubble disappears.
← 909.999.3399 ; 11:50pm nah, got a huge paper to finish uni student, remember? sorry to disappoint
→ dabi ; 11:51pm ur missin out giran got bottle service him and nuri looked cozy
← 909.999.3399 ; 11:51pm not shocked she thinks she can fix him
→ dabi ; 11:51pm ooooo love when that happens poor girl
Typing...
Typing...
→ dabi ; 11:51pm u think u can fix me? :p
The emoji makes your face break into a smile — it's so... not what you expected.
← 909.999.3399 ; 11:52pm nah i'm not stupid
→ dabi ; 11:52pm just busy.... really lame of u tbh coulda been fun
← 909.999.3399 ; 11:52pm wasting cash on mid drinks is the opposite of fun
→ dabi ; 11:52pm i meant seeing me
Oh, what the fuck.
Why does that text make your face feel hot? Why does that text make you feel like you're not texting the League of Villain's #1 Arsonist, but some cute boy from class? He's not a cute boy from class. He's a danger to society.
You're glad you don't have the opportunity to reply. Your phone is buzzing in your hands, the haptic feedback lighting the neurons in your brain on fire.
→ dabi ; 11:53pm gtg phone is gonna die have fun with ur paper u loser hope u get a good grade or whatever i'll txt u later
You shouldn't have texted Dabi.
But you did.
#burner cell#mha dabi#bnha x reader#bnha dabi#dabi todoroki#dabi x reader#dabi x you#dabi imagine#mha imagine#bnha imagine#touya x reader#touya x y/n#dabi x y/n#this is ridiculously fun i love these two haters
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Having them as best friend's:
Multiple X Reader
Contains: Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Charlie, Lucifer, Vox, Velvette, Rosie, Adam, Lute, and Valentino
ALASTOR
You're gonna have to hear me out with this one: he's down for the gossip 24/7!!!
He will listen and talk shit with you 100% and I'm not arguing on the matter.
Someone says some wack ass shit to you in public? "I beg your fucking pardon?" With like the scariest grin that fucker can muster.
You start talking to someone? He interrogates them! If they're not strong enough to survive one little interrogation with THE Radio Demon, they're not good enough to date you. Sorry not sorry.
The friendship would be violent, but in almost a sibling type relationship. If he said something absolutely out of line, you'd smack him or kick him in the back of his knees. He'd always get payback, whether it was immediately or a few days/weeks later.
You called him a 'radio faced cunt' once in front of everyone and they all mentally started planning your funeral.
Until he clapped back with something equally as interesting.
He only accepted affection from you and Rosie. And Charlie that one time.
If you had a bad day, he'd know immediately by the look on your face and wouldn't let anyone talk to you until he knew exactly what had made one of his two favorite people upset.
He'd kill them if you told him to. Just supportive bestie shit!
Angel Dust
Let's be real, if you're best friends with Angel, you're probably equally as close with Cherri.
But just you and Angel Dust as best friend's? Shit, he's awesome.
Had a bad day? Go to his room and cuddle Fat Nuggets while you cry/rant about the days woes.
Spontaneous sleepovers BECAUSE YOU CAN!
Platonically flirting to the point that everyone thinks you're together. Neither of you deny the claims, just to keep everyone on their toes.
The words 'love you' followed by something like 'slut' or 'bitch' are common occurrences.
When it comes to dating, Angel just wants you to be happy.
But if someone breaks your heart? He'll come out with guns blazing with no hesitation. NO ONE hurts his bestie.
Platonic cuddles because you love his floof.
Would probably form some sort of marriage pact with you for fun one night when you're both wasted. "Yeah, I'd marry you if we're both still single in 100 years, Toots."
Husk
The banter would be unmatched. You call him a furry and he'll clap back with something that makes your jaw drop before you burst out into laughter.
He'd tell you how it is, regardless of whether you asked or not.
Sure, you're his best friend, and he cares about you. . . But it's because he cares about you that he won't sugarcoat something, even if it's not something you wanna hear.
He would listen to your problems, like any good friend.
He wouldn't trust anyone you had romantic interest in, especially since the ones you always went for had some serious issues.
He'd say something like: "Don't cry to me when that bastard breaks your heart."
And you wouldn't cry to him when it happened, but he'd make you a drink and silently take care of the problem once he had one of the other hotel residents hoist you up to your room.
The next morning you'd tell him he was right and he'd smirk as he wiped down the bar, but wouldn't say anything.
He was never good with affection, so he respects your space and you respect his.
He literally always has your back, even if you don't know it. You do.
Charlie
Honestly, you probably grew up together and that's how the two of you became best friends. (But even if you didn't, everything is still the same.)
She's the friend that's too trusting of everyone, so you easily filled the place of being the friend that questioned everyone's intentions.
You even heavily questioned Vaggie's intentions when Charlie insisted on bringing her around after finding her.
You only warmed up to Vaggie when Charlie admitted her feeling for her, to you one late evening. She was a nervous wreck, but you were always the level-headed friend.
Being best friends with the princess of Hell had some lesser known perks — invitations to high class parties, special access at LuLu World, and the most eventful sleepovers known to Hell.
Whenever you mentioned interest in someone, Charlie was the first to push you to go for it.
If it went wrong, she was always there first, telling you it would be completely fine. If it went good, she was the first to congratulate you.
She's 100% the mom friend. Thirsty? Here's something to drink. Cut your finger? "Here's a bandaid, be more careful."
A relationship similar to siblings, bit without any malice or envy. Just happy to be in each other's presence.
She literally documented everything the two of you did, since the very first time you called her your friend. She's not going anywhere.
Lucifer
Yeah, so, everyone thinks you're dating. Even Charlie is a bit suspicious. You're not, but you had been there by his side for as long as he could remember.
When Lilith left, you filled some part of the void, not allowing Lucifer to go hungry when he spent long days in his office.
On his good days, he's absolutely there for all the tea, especially if it's PIPING HOT. "That bitch said WHAT!?"
He has no filter and will unintentionally intentionally hurt someone's feelings when it comes to you.
He protects you as fiercely as he protects Charlie, despite knowing that you're capable of protecting yourself.
The two of you argue like an old married couple, which only fueled the dating rumors. . . Until you mentioned someone you had interest in.
Bro interrogated everyone you ever liked. Can't handle five minutes with the king of Hell? Not good enough for his bestie. Keep it movin' pal.
No one is allowed to call you a bitch, but him. Anyone else tries, they'll be met with absolute SASS.
Not even joking, Lucifer would be so sassy towards people, to the point that you picked it up.
So the two of you just went around unintentionally terrorizing demons!
Vox
You hate someone? Bet. He'll have someone spy on them and give you the real tea.
Brings you as the plus one for many major events, but bullies you the entire time. You thought you'd get five minutes of peace on your best friends arm? WRONG!
Literally throws toddler meltdown style temper tantrums when it comes to Alastor. You're usually the one who has to reboot him or just smack some sense into him.
You're both pretty level-headed most of the time, but one of you probably has a couple of screws loose. (It's definitely him.)
No one is good enough to date you. Not sorry.
If anyone looks at you wrong, they've signed their second death to double Hell.
You and Vox talk shit about everyone, especially if you've had a hard day.
If it was bad enough, he'd offer to kill the demon who dared make your day shit. He'd still listen to you though.
"Fuck that. You're not going alone." And then you have to wait 15 minutes for him to look 'good enough' to go out, even if you were powerful and just wanted to go on little walk down the street.
Body doubling. Different tasks, silence, but the comfort of having someone else in the room. Absolutely.
Velvette
She likes you slightly more than Vox and Valentino, which is fabulous.
Weekly designated sleepover nights where the both of you unload from the week.
Someone is rude to you? Cue Vel lecturing them on how they fucked up and their career is over, but make it musical.
You went on a date with someone and didn't tell her? "I want details, Lovey! Are they an overlord too? Tell. Me. Everything."
Prepare for Hell's greatest gossip sessions, especially around the topic of Hell's cutthroat fashion industry.
She might not seem like it, but she's a good listener.
You're leaving the tower to run a small errand? Surprise Surprise, she's coming with you and turning it into a whole day, complete with lunch and shopping!
She uses you as a model sometimes, purely because she can.
Will call you a sweet name and insult you in the same breath.
Gets worried if you don't text back within five minutes. She will literally show up to make sure you're alive. You're probably taking a nap.
Rosie
Literally the best to spend the day with. She loves walking with you or just having tea.
Much like Alastor, she would be down for the gossip, but she wouldn't go very far with it.
In terms of relationships, she'd want you to be happy, but would also threaten to eat your partner if they hurt you.
She'd be such a good listener when you came to talk about your day.
She'd even offer advice and just casually drop something like: "Listen to your intuition, darling. It'll tell you others intentions."
At some point or another, everyone questions whether you're dating or not, which both of you laugh at frequently.
She enjoys her privacy, but she also would love having you around more than others.
She would love giving platonic affection, just to make you feel loved.
Sometimes Alastor pops up and Rosie gushes about how the two of you would get along — and immediately you're just thinking how this trio would be iconic.
She doesn't care about your past, you don't care that she's a Cannibal. . . Well, she cares, but she would NEVER hold it against you!
Adam
He literally goes out of his way to piss you off.
There's a lot of threatening and him calling you stuff like 'Sugar Tits'.
Adam annoys you to the point of you WANTING to just jump to Hell, but you never do, because he's your best friend, and you wouldn't want to emotionally traumatize him by making him think that he lost his best friend to Lucifer, AFTER losing his wives to him.
He says "Suck my dick, Bitch" AT LEAST A DOZEN TIMES A DAY. It irritates you to no end.
The banter is unmatched. He wants to get sassy? You're the SASS MASTER.
You pushed him down the stairs for fun and he didn't talk to you for two days.
He doesn't give a fuck who you date, but if they hurt you, he's taking care of them and not telling you SHIT to avoid all of that mushy feelings crap.
The two of you argue too much for anyone to think you're together.
There's NEVER a moment of silence when you're out. He's always singing, talking, laughing, or mimicking the sound of some instrument.
Lute
She's annoyed 24/7 and you're one of the two main causes.
But she wouldn't replace you because who else would put up with her attitude and listen to her rants like you?
If you had a hard day, she'd probably make some offhand comment and then subtly try to make it better by like getting you ice cream with rainbow sprinkles or something.
She hates physical touch, so the only time she touches you is to smack you, probably for saying something very Adam-ish. "Say that shit again and it'll be worse."
She hates everyone you have romantic interest in, but let's you learn your own lessons the hard way.
Nobody could ever picture the two of you as friends, let alone dating.
She's like the sister that has it all but claims she's the black sheep of the family.
Her job comes before everything else in her life, that including you, but when she has time for you, there's usually food and shit talking involved.
She makes sure you drink water every day. She'd kick your ass if you passed out because of dehydration.
She'd give you the key to her place, but you'd never use it unless she told you to. (Like in the event she forgot her set or something)
(I've reached the 10 media limit, so just imagine a gif right here)
Valentino
He offers you a job almost weekly. You hold off on kicking his ass every single time because that's your best friend.
Derives great pleasure from pissing you off.
You don't agree with the manner he treats his employees, so you undermine him every chance you get, just to make sure they get the best treatment possible.
It pisses him off to no end, but he let's it go. He wouldn't hurt you. He couldn't, not without a whole bunch of backlash from quite literally everyone.
Whenever you start liking someone, he warns you to be careful because he knows the industry. He is the industry.
He's gossip central. Talks super exaggerated with his hands and his voice changes whenever he remembers another detail.
He's a touchy feller, that much is evident. He's always touching you in some way, but it's not sexual/romantic or violent, it's more reassurance for both of you. It's a safe middle ground.
You have to leave for some reason? "The limo will take you, but don't touch anything."
He throws tantrums on the regular and you've learned to just let them go on until he eventually shuts the fuck up and let's you speak.
He'll call you a slut and then ask if you want to get food. It's extremely clear that you're not dating lmao.
A/N: I hope this is okay! I've never written for a bunch of these characters, as I just stared writing Hazbin stuff last week, and even then, it was a small Vox one-shot and a Lucifer one-shot.
Requests are open, if anyone would wanna request something for one of these characters? I'd pull through to the best of my ability.
Part Two
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor#angel dust#hazbin hotel husk#charlie morningstar#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel velvette#hazbin rosie#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel lute#valentino hazbin hotel#x reader#hazbin hotel imagine
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i'm holding every breath for you
steve harrington x nextdoor neighbour!reader {8.2k} based on the song i’d lie by taylor swift. friends-to-lovers. lots of pining, a bit of angst, steve being oblivious to reader’s feelings. reader uses she/her pronouns. no use of y/n. not proofread
You root through the glove compartment of Steve’s car, bent over at the waist to peer into the small space trying to find the lip balm you swore you left there the last time he gave you a ride.
“Why d’you have so much crap in here? How am I meant to find anything?” You pull out random scraps of paper, food wrappers and notes scribbled in a hurry that were barely legible.
“You wouldn’t have to look through it if you didn’t forget something every time you’re in here.”
You shoot him a glare, no malice really behind it because he was right, you did have a bad habit of constantly leaving your stuff in his car. Though to be fair, you were constantly leaving things behind in the places you’d been, it wasn’t exclusive to his car.
“S’not my fault, I just forget.” You’ve got a pile of rubbish on your lap now, the glove box empty enough for you to actually see its contents. When you finally see the plastic tube you’ve been searching for you let out a small ah!, inhaling quickly as you pull it out with a victorious smile on your face. “Got it.”
“Best put it somewhere safe, god forbid you have to root through my stuff again.” Steve’s eyebrows were raised, a sarcastic twang to his voice, but you know he’s not really mad. He was never mad, not at you anyway.
“I know, sorry, could have all sorts of secrets in here.”
You put all the rubbish you’ve accumulated back into the compartment, really you should keep hold of it to throw it all out. But the thought doesn’t cross your mind until you’re back home in your room.
“Think you know all of my secrets anyway, I’ll let it slide.”
You sit back in your seat, pulling down the sun visor to shield your eyes from the summer evening sun that was hanging low in the sky. You have your own car, and were perfectly capable of driving it, but Steve insisted on driving you around because your car was old and rickety and ‘should not be allowed on the road’. He was at least a little bit right, and you can't say you mind him picking you up from your shifts at the grocery store. His passenger seat had always felt a bit like home, even through high school and the girlfriends that would come and go, your presence up front was a constant.
You undo a few of the buttons on your work shirt, the sticky heat of the day clinging to the fabric and your skin. The air conditioning near the checkouts in work was temperamental at best, and today it had decided to pretty much pack in altogether. The first thing you’d done when you got into Steve’s car was crank the AC up to try and lower your body temperature from feverish to just plain old hot.
“You coming to the lake this weekend?” You pick at your chipped nail varnish, Steve finally able to actually start the drive home now you’ve dug through his mess successfully. It was a Hawkin’s summer tradition to spend at least one day down by the lake, drinking and smoking a bit too much and getting a little dizzy from a full day of sun exposure.
Steve hums, nodding in response as he pulls out of the parking lot. “You’ll never guess who asked me that at work today.”
“At work? Robin?” You look away from your nails, brows furrowed and nose scrunched with confusion.
“No, not Robin.” Steve chuckles, your response typical of your mind, always a little ditzy and in your own world. It was endearing in a way, your world view simple and honest and good. “Tammy Thompson.”
Your mouth opens to a small ‘O’, head nodding slowly. “You gonna go with her?”
“No, absolutely not. Couldn’t pay me to go with her.”
“She’s not so bad, in the grand scheme of Hawkin’s.”
“If my best option is Tammy Thompson, I think I’ll just stay single forever.”
You press your lips together, nodding again. You were overly familiar with Steve’s dating woes, both throughout school and now into adulthood. Maybe if you were bolder, with less to lose than your best friend, you’d just tell him to date you. Bite the bullet and take the leap and just give it a try. But you weren’t bold, you were safe and comfortable in the familiar and not ready to jeopardise that by confessing some big feelings that Steve was oblivious to.
“You just gonna hide from her the whole time then?”
“Maybe, use you as a human shield.” He grins at you, watching as you scrunch up your nose again. It was one of those mannerisms that you did all the time, whenever something confused you or if he teased you a little. It was a dead giveaway for your emotions, even if you were unaware of it.
“But you’re bigger than me, I don’t think I’d be very good at it.”
“Y’not even gonna try? I’d do it for you.” He pouts at you, you’re sure he’s doing his best puppy dog eyes behind his sunglasses too.
“Sure, I’ll try. But don’t blame me when she spots you, I can’t grow like 3 feet taller in a few days.”
“Don’t think you’d need to grow 3 feet, honey.”
“To do a proper job I would.”
Steve just nods, smiling to himself as he pulls into the street you’ve both grown up on. Carpooling was pretty easy when you only had to make one stop, though he’d take you to the other side of the world if you asked him to.
“You gonna need a lift to work tomorrow?” Steve parks up in his driveway, turning the ignition off and cutting off the AC you’ve been basking in, a small sigh coming from your lips as the cool air stops fanning on your skin.
“S’okay, I start at like 6am so I can drive.” You pick your backpack up out of the footwell, corduroy straps held tightly in your hand.
“You’re not driving that death trap when you’re half asleep, you know I don’t mind dropping you off.” Steve’s car keys dangle from his pointer finger, the collection of keyrings you’d gotten him over the years from every holiday you’d been on jingling against one another. “Just bang on my door if I don’t knock before you need to leave.”
“You’re silly for doing this, y’know that?”
“Only for you, sweetheart.”
Steve leans over to ruffle your hair, earning him a huff from you as you try to move your head away. You smooth out the mess as you climb out the passenger side, slinging your bag over one shoulder as you start to make your way over to your own house.
“You forgetting something?” Steve calls after you, and as you turn you see him holding out the same lip balm you’d left behind before.
“Oh, thanks Stevie.” You hurry back over to take the tube out of his hand, giving him a sweet smile before heading back home again.
—
You’re used to early mornings, pretty good at pushing past the grogginess after having to work so many opening shifts and be alert when the sun is still climbing in the sky, but being jostled about the back of Eddie’s van with the rest of your friends when you’re all still half asleep hurt your head a little bit.
It was the easiest option, meaning you could all make your way to the lake together and only have one designated driver, but you did miss seatbelts.
The heat was still yet to break, the air thick and clammy despite only wearing a tank top and some jean shorts over your bikini. You’re already slathered in sunscreen, the artificial coconut smell a bit overwhelming in the enclosed space and it doesn’t seem to lessen even once you’re out in the fresh air.
“I wish we had one of those big umbrellas.” You stand with your hands on your hips, watching the boys lug the bags filled with snacks and the cooler of beer and soda out of the van. “It’s so hot.”
“That’s what the lakes for, cools you right down.” Eddie smiles, shaking his curls out of his eyes as he stands up straight.
You shrug, staring out at the glistening water. “I don’t wanna get my hair wet.”
“It’s gonna get wet.”
“Shame.” You chew the inside of your cheek and hold your arms out to take one of the picnic blankets that’d been brought along.
It took you about fifteen minutes to all settle on a spot along the shore, Eddie and Robin wanting to be as close to the pier as possible so they can dive-bomb into the water but Nancy saying there’ll be too much foot traffic there and nobody will be able to relax. You stand back, letting your friends argue it out and laying down your blanket once the issue had been resolved.
The sun feels nice on your skin, the lake having more of a breeze than the rest of town making it bearable to lay out in. It doesn’t take too long for the midday heat to have you peeling off your tank top, shorts unbuttoned and rolled down a little so you can feel the heat on your stomach.
Eddie hands out one of the joints he pre-rolled for the occasion, something about needing to start early so he can sober up before he drives you all home. The smoke has your head feeling a little fuzzy, mixing with the beer you’ve been sipping slowly and slowing your mind down.
“You’re going pink.” Steve sits down next to you, cross legged and shoulders almost brushing.
“I thought it was green?” You tilt your head to one side, putting the back of your hand to your head to feel your temperature. “I feel okay.”
“No, not that, your shoulders.”
You lift your sunglasses onto the top of your head, looking down to your shoulders which were turning a little pink. Your freckles coming out where the sun had kissed your skin. “Oh, right, I am.”
“C’mere.” Steve leans over to reach for the sunscreen, not moving from his seat next to you as he stretches his arm over the blanket. “Your mom will be mad if I let you get burnt.”
You shake your head, shuffling around so Steve can get to your shoulders easier. “You’re her favourite, she’d just tell me to be more careful.”
The sunscreen feels cold, even as Steve rubs it in carefully against the hot patches of skin on your shoulders, being careful to get it under the straps of your bikini. You’re used to his gentle touches, him always looking after you ever since you were kids, but now you’re older and you’re more aware of the way his hands move and how he treats you like you’re precious and it makes your heart skip a little.
He moves a hand away to take the joint off Robin, inhaling as he keeps massaging the sunscreen in with his other hand. He can feel the heat radiating off your skin, not yet in the sunburn territory, just a little warm. Your skin always feels soft, he’s not sure if it’s some moisturiser you use or if it’s just how you are. He leans his arm over your shoulder, holding the joint out to you as you take it between your fingers.
You inhale, careful not to press your lips against the roach too hard in case your lipgloss transfers too much. Steve finally finishes rubbing the cream into your shoulders, and you shuffle again so that you’re facing him. “Is my face pink too? My nose feels kinda warm.”
Steve lifts his own sunglasses up so he can look at you clearer, hair pushed back by the frames and his hand shielding his eyes from the sun's glare. “A little, you want sunscreen on there too?”
You nod your head, closing your eyes. Your eyelashes cast little shadows on your cheeks, something Steve hasn’t really noticed before but he likes it. Likes seeing you up close, even after all these years. His movements are careful as he brushes the cream across your nose and over your cheeks, just using one finger to rub it into your skin.
You enjoy the sweet moments, but sometimes they’re too easy to get lost in. It's easy to pretend you don’t harbour all these feelings for Steve when you’re apart, even when you’re just hanging out at a safe distance. But when he’s close, your mind gets a bit carried away. Dreaming up scenarios where he might press a kiss to your lips whilst your eyes are still closed, hold your hand once he’s done and keep it there for the rest of the day. You’ve got a big imagination, it’s a real bother sometimes.
Steve finishes his careful application, and sets his hand down in his lap to look over your face once more to check he hasn’t missed anywhere. He takes a moment to just watch how you breath steady, a small smile on your lips that always seems to be there without you even knowing. “Okay, you’re done.”
You open your eyes, instantly squinting from the bright sunlight. You quickly bring your sunglasses back over your eyes, the red heart shaped frames contrasting against your complexion. “Thanks Steve, you’re the best.”
“I know, s’why you love me.”
If only you knew, you think. You have to force your face not to react to his words, simply giving him a smile as you lay back down to sunbathe some more.
The heat and the smoke and the alcohol makes you clingy. They always do, even on their own, so mixing all three was sure to have you craving closeness.
The boys had all been in the lake, splashing and tackling each other and making enough noise to draw attention from most of the people on the lake. When Steve walks back to the blanket, you hold out your arms to him as if to summon him.
“Hey, honey. You good?” He sits in that same spot next to you, you instantly lean your head on his shoulder and hum a response. His body is still wet, but you suddenly don’t mind your hair getting a little damp. Steve knows what you’re like when you’re high, having spent enough nights on his back porch sharing a joint when his parents were out of town. Knows how you like to be close to him, he doesn’t mind it so much either.
“M’good.” You mumble, pushing your face further into his neck. He smells like the fresh water, that same strong sunscreen but somehow still like Steve. You wish you could bottle it up, it's probably your favourite smell in the world.
Steve puts his arm around your waist, head resting on top of yours. If it was anyone else the close contact in the heat would probably be too much, but it’s okay if it’s you. You’re like an extension of him at this point. “You had enough water today? Don’t want you going loopy.”
“Yeah, drank like two bottles.” You nudge your head in the direction of the empty water bottles discarded next to you, keeping them in a pile to collect at the end of the day.
“Oh, must just be loopy anyway then.” He teases, giving your side a gentle squeeze. It feels like his hand has an electric current running through it and each movement sends shockwaves through you.
“Thought you already knew that.”
“I do, it’s cute.”
“So you’ll visit me in the loony bin then?” You shift your head slightly so you can look up at him through your sunglasses, everything tinged some muddy colour from the lenses.
“Every day, if they don’t lock me up with you.”
“God, can you two get a room? Even Robin and Vickie aren’t this bad and they’re actually together.” Eddie shouts over from the other end of the mismatched collection of blankets, your cheeks heat up more than they already are with his words. The sun at least gives you an excuse for the flush of colour.
“Can it, Munson.” Steve flips him off with the hand that isn’t still on your waist, the other boy returning the signal with a smug grin on his lips.
You kind of want the ground to swallow you, suddenly aware that everyone probably knows you’re in love with your best friend. You don’t want the pity smiles or the sorry stares, but then if everyone else knows, why doesn’t Steve? Surely someone must have let something slip by now. Hopefully they haven’t. It’s even worse to think he knows and is ignoring it to save you from the rejection. You squeeze your eyes hard to try and push the thoughts away.
You lean further into Steve’s side, the cool water on his skin feels soothing against your own. His hand finally moves from your waist up to stroke your hair. His thumb brushing slowly over and over.
“You seen Tammy Thompson yet?” You want to put the question back inside your head as soon as you’ve said it.
“Yeah, think you did a pretty good job at being my shield though. Took one look at us and turned on her heel.”
You smile to yourself, a small laugh coming out as you put your arms around Steve. “That’s good. Maybe I’ll get a job as a bodyguard.”
Steve chuckles and you can feel the movement against your body, the vibrations making your hairs stand on end. “Don’t think they usually let bodyguards do this sorta thing.”
“Oh.” You hold your bottom lip under your teeth and exhale. “Maybe not then.”
—
You’re wallowing. It’s maybe overdramatic, and you’re glad nobody else is there to see it, but you are. You have the house to yourself again, and the whole day off work, but you’ve spent most of it laid out on your lawn with a book trying to distract yourself from the fact that Steve is on a date.
He told you yesterday, as he was dropping you off from work again, that some pretty girl had been in Family Video and he’d asked her out and she’d said yes. You’d smiled, told him you were happy for him, because he was your best friend and you wanted him to be happy more than anything else in the world. But it hasn't stopped you from moping about the entire day.
The grass tickles the skin on your back that’s exposed from where your shirt is riding up, the feeling irritating you more than it usually would. You’d managed to read about twenty pages in the past hour, having to re-read each paragraph at least three times because your mind keeps wandering.
Your book is left at your side, defeated by the words that jumbled in your brain, your arm over your eyes to block out the last of the day's light.
“Hey, you.” Steve chimes from over the shared fence, you hadn’t heard his car pulling up and his voice spooks you a bit as you quickly sit up.
“Steve, you’re here.” You furrow your brow, confused by his presence. You were no expert on dating, but you had assumed he’d be out much later than this.
“Can I come over?”
“Stupid question.”
He smiles at your response, giving you a nod as he walks down the fence and back around into your back garden. “You been out here all day?”
“Almost. I had to go inside for a bit because it was too hot.” Your legs stretch out in front of you as you lean back on your palms, head tilted up to look at Steve who’s still standing over you. His body blocks the sun, his shadow gives you some relief from it.
“It was pretty hot today.” Steve agrees, lingering in his spot for a minute before he finally takes a seat next to you mirroring your posture.
“How was your date?” You try to sound interested, like you’re hoping he had the best time and was going to see her again and maybe she was the one. The thought really made you want to die a bit.
“Bit of a bust.” Steve shrugs, he doesn’t sound too phased by it. You curse yourself for wanting to smile.
“That’s a shame.” You say, shifting your weight off your palms so you can sit up straight and pick at the grass under your hands. “Not gonna see her again?”
“Probably not, just didn’t have much to say to each other.”
“But you can talk anyone’s ear off.” You tease, looking at him with your eyes squinted a little, corners of your mouth turned up. Your features look soft in the evening sun, shadows rounding out your cheeks and the little bump on your nose bridge.
“I can talk your ear off.” Steve corrects you, and gives your shoulder a light shove. The light reflecting off his hair has it turning the colour of honey, the same with his eyes. You wish he wasn’t so pretty, his face was far too easy to look at.
“Sorry it didn’t go well.” You twist your mouth to the side, eyes all apologetic because you do want him to be happy even if it does hurt your heart.
“Don’t be. It was nice enough, just not second-date nice.”
“Y’want to watch a movie? We can watch A Nightmare on Elm Street, might make you feel better.”
“Why would it make me feel better?”
“Because you’re not getting chopped up in your sleep.” You say it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Touche. Okay, let’s do it.” Steve pushes himself up off the lawn, holding his hand out to you to help you up. You put your hand in his, his grip solid but still gentle as he pulls you up from the grass.
You brush your legs off, little indents from the grass left in the bare skin of your calves. “I’ve got the good popcorn too.”
You walk into your house through the patio doors, the laminate floor cold underfoot as you pad your way into the kitchen. You root through the cupboards, pulling out the various tins and boxes of health food your mom had stocked up on until you finally find the popcorn.
“See, cinema quality.” You hold the packet out to Steve, pointing at the words printed on it.
“You’re too good to me.”
“Tell me about it.” You roll your eyes, all affection and sweetness really. You turn the stove on, placing the biggest pan you can find on the hob and letting it heat a little before tipping the kernels into it and putting the lid on top.
You hop onto the counter beside the cooker, legs dangling and ankles hitting the cupboard below you as you swing them a little. “Now we wait.”
Steve’s leaning against the island in the middle of your kitchen, hands in the front pockets of his jeans as he looks at you. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact you’ve been lazing around in the sticky heat all day, hair probably a mess and skin a little dewy and definitely not looking your best.
“Can I ask you something?” He asks, head tilted a little as his eyes stay locked on you.
You shrug your shoulders, trying your best to keep your breathing steady and not give away the fact that such a simple question has your throat drying up and your stomach twisting into a knot. “Sure, ask away.”
“Do people ever just, like, assume we’re dating?” He asks the question so casually, like he was just asking how your day had been. “Like, when you’re trying to date, do they ever say that?”
You scrunch your nose up, tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek as you try to come up with an answer, try to pull words out of your brain that currently feels like it’s been scrambled. “I d’know, I don’t date much, so I guess not.”
Steve pauses, just nodding at your response. He knew you didn’t really date, not after high school anyway. He’d never given it much thought, you’d always come away from dates complaining they were boring or got too handsy or didn’t laugh at your jokes and he’d always thought that those guys must be crazy. Because you were great, the best person he knew if he was being honest.
“Why?” You force the question out, hoping your voice doesn’t audibly crack from how much effort it's taken to say just one word.
“I was just wondering. Heard it a couple times now, and I was just curious if you had too.”
Heard it a couple times now. The words echo in your brain, bouncing around over and over to the point it was making you a bit dizzy. Your hands grip the counter beneath you to try and ground yourself.
The sound of the kernels popping against the lid of the pan breaks the silence before you have to, a silent prayer of thanks to whatever God is watching over you in the moment. You hop down off the counter to get a proper look at the pan, watching as the kernels expand and pop until the little bangs slow and you can turn the stove off.
You stand on your tiptoes to reach the cupboard above your head, fishing out the largest bowl in there and carefully tipping the popcorn into it. You finally turn back to Steve, bowl held close to your chest with both hands so you won’t drop it. “Okay, let’s go watch some people get slashed up.”
Steve laughs, the little creases at the corners of his eyes deepening with his smile. “You’re morbid.”
“No, I’m creative.” You say the words bluntly, but your eyes are still full of warmth for the boy in front of you. Even the coldest words wouldn’t be able to take away from the way you always look at him, a bit like a lovesick puppy.
You put the bowl of popcorn on the table in the middle of your living room before trying to find the tape you need from the stack around the television set. You have to check a few cases, because most of them weren’t in the right one and there was no point trying to logically work out which one it’d be in.
“Didn’t you loan this from Family Video like, two months ago?” Steve asks, already in his usual spot on your couch as he watches you open your fifth case to no avail.
“Probably, yeah.” You don’t sound too bothered by it, the late fee something you’ve never had to pay thanks to Steve always wiping it for you. Finally, on your eighth try, you pull the correct tape out and hold it up to Steve with a grin. “Got it.”
You eject the tape that’s currently in the VCR player, putting it into the case that you’d found A Nightmare on Elm Street in without checking if it was the right one, and push the right tape into the player before you stand up.
“That seems like a flawed sorting system.” Steve nods towards the scattered cases on the carpet as you sit down next to him.
You shrug. “It works for me. We don’t all work in a video store, Steve.”
“You’re right, my bad.” He holds his hands up in defeat.
You lean forward to grab the popcorn bowl and pass it to Steve. “Try it, I need an unbiased opinion on it.”
“Why would you be biased?” His question is muffled by him throwing some popcorn into his mouth.
“I bought it, I want it to be good.”
“Makes sense.” Steve nods and takes another handful of popcorn. “It’s good, but not cinema good.”
You sigh, taking a handful for yourself now that Steve had given his review. “They always lie on the packets.”
You and Steve had watched this film about ten times, including when it was in the theatre and you made him go twice. Knowing the plot back to front was really not helping to distract you from how close Steve is sitting to you, you didn’t have to pay attention because you know what’s about to happen so instead your brain is entirely focused on the fact you can feel Steve’s body heat, his leg pressing against your own and his arm resting on the back of the couch behind you.
You’re really trying to keep your mind on the movie, eyes stuck to the screen barely blinking, but your brain just won’t cooperate. It’s not like Steve doesn’t always sit this close to you, because he does. But you’re still reeling from what he said in the kitchen and your thoughts show no sign of slowing.
Steve sits up to put the half eaten bowl of popcorn back on the table, his movements making your breath hitch in your chest and your muscles tense. You think you must look crazy.
“You feelin’ okay?” He puts a hand on your shoulder, which only makes you tense up more.
“Mhm.” You hum, turning just a little to glance at him and give him your most convincing smile. “Probably just got sun sickness y’know? Brains been cooked all day.”
“You mean heat stroke?” He rubs his thumb over the curve of your shoulder, the feeling comforting in a sickly sort of way.
“Nah, different things.”
“You wanna go to bed? We don’t have to watch the movie.”
You shake your head, eyes focusing back on the gory scene on the tv in front of you. “I’m okay, I think it’s helping.”
“Watching people get chopped up?”
“Exactly.”
—-
The Hideout is dark and loud and warm, and you’re a bit out of place. You promised Eddie months ago you would come and watch his band play, always meaning to do so but things never lining up the right way, but tonight you were making good on that promise.
You try to dress the part, at least to the extent your wardrobe allows, a strappy black top and a short skirt - that definitely used to fit fine but was now bordering on indecent - all covered up by a big denim jacket that you thrifted a couple years back. A bit of eyeliner smudged across your lids, messy and already creasing with the heat of the venue.
Steve is at your side, obviously. Because he heard you were planning to go to The Hideout and there was no way he was letting you go alone, not when you look like that and the place would no doubt be crawling with creepy guys. Not that he told you all this, he just said he wanted to come along. He was always protective over you, but this felt different to him for some reason. Like, he didn’t want creepy guys to bother you, but maybe he didn’t want any guy to bother you? Those were thoughts he’d have to unpack later.
You pull at the hem of your skirt as you linger near the outskirts of the room, shuffling from one foot to another in your doc martens that aren’t quite broken in yet. You look up at Steve through your mascara coated lashes, eyes wide a bit like a deer caught in headlights, mouth open a little with your tongue pressing against the back of your teeth.
“You all good?” Steve has to shout a little to be heard over the music thumping through the venue, the old sound system struggling to keep up with the heavy bass.
You nod, eyes darting between Steve and the bustling space around you. Your hands stay at the hem of your skirt, finding a loose stitch to pick and pull at as a distraction. “I think I need a drink.”
“Yeah? What d’you want? I’ll get it for you.” Steve could see the way you were staring at the bar, it’s at least two deep the whole way along and you’re definitely smaller than at least 90% of the people waiting. It just made more sense for him to be the one to try and fight his way through.
“Just a lemonade. Unless they don’t card, then I’ll have a beer. But lemonade's totally fine.” The words fall out of your mouth quickly, the heat of the room suddenly sticking to your chest and making you feel flushed.
“Okay, just wait here and I’ll be back.” Steve steps away, but turns back to put his hands on your arms. He locks his eyes with yours, your pupils still blown from the dim lighting. “Right here.”
“Right here.” You look down at your shoes and then back up to Steve, giving him a reassuring smile that you weren’t going to move.
You watch Steve make his way to the bar, feeling a bit exposed now you’re standing alone. He turns back to you from his spot in the queue - if you could even call it that - only briefly, just to check you’re okay and haven’t moved.
It doesn’t take Steve that long to get served, probably about ten minutes from him leaving you to actually having the drinks in his hands. He tried to keep an eye on you, but the closer he got to the bar the more people crowded behind him and blocked his view. So he curses himself a little when he finally breaks through the mass of bodies to see you talking to some guy. Some guy who is definitely at least ten years older than you, and is definitely drunk.
“Um yeah, my friend is in one of the bands playing tonight.” You try to be polite, making small talk has never been your strong suit but you don’t want to be rude. Especially not when you’re on your own.
“Oh right, cool.” The guy - you think his name is Mark? He did tell you but you didn’t really listen - nods enthusiastically. “Just a friend, though? No boyfriend?”
“I, erm -“ You laugh awkwardly, not really sure what to say. You want to lie, it’d be the easiest way to end this conversation. But you’re even worse at thinking fast than you are at small talk.
You don’t have to lie though, or say anything at all, because Steve is back at your side and standing so close your body’s are practically pressed together. He holds out a cup for you to take without a word, and as soon as you take hold of it his arm snakes around your waist to hold you to him.
“Hey, honey. Who’s this?” Steve looks between you and the other man who’s now looking much less interested in talking and much more interested in leaving.
“Oh, I was just telling him that we know Eddie.” You dodge the question of who he is, because you can’t give a real answer.
“Right, and that’s it?” Steve sips his drink, not taking his eyes off the guy in front of you.
“Relax dude, I get it. I don’t want your girl.” Mark, or maybe it was Matt, holds his hands up before he skulks off back into the crowd, most likely to find his friends or another girl to try and hit on.
Hearing the phrase your girl makes your head spin, especially with Steve’s arm so tight around your waist and his body pressing into yours. You take a deep breath and a shaky sip of your drink as you try to calm yourself, because everything is fine. Steve is here and people think you’re together and it’s so fine.
“You alright?” Steve finally breaks the silence, squeezing you somehow closer to him as he speaks.
“Yeah, thanks Stevie.” You grin up at him, the low lighting doing you a favour by covering up the pink that was spreading over your cheeks.
“You didn’t wanna speak to that guy, right? Because you can totally speak to any guy you want, he just looked a bit…” He trails off, scrunching his face a little and shrugging in place of words.
You laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t want to, I’m here with you.” The words come out before you really think about them, your eyes widening a little as soon as you realise what you’ve said.
Steve doesn’t seem to react, if he heard what you said - or more so what you meant - he doesn’t show it. “Okay, good. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”
You just smile at him, enough confirmation that you are happy. Perfectly content just in his presence. Even if the room is too close and the beer is kinda warm and you feel like you’re dressed up in a costume instead of your clothes.
When you see Eddie walk out onto the stage you step away from Steve, tugging on his hand to pull him closer so you can actually watch your friend and hopefully get his attention to prove that you held up your promise and came out to a show.
Even when you settle in a spot close to the stage, you don’t drop Steve’s hand, and he doesn’t drop yours. Your plastic cup in one hand and Steve in the other, it all feels a bit surreal. Maybe it’s the heat making your brain a little mushy.
You manage to catch Eddie's eye at some point, grinning and holding your drink up at him. He looks between you and Steve, down at your conjoined hands, and nods dramatically with a wide smile. You’re going to have to tell him it’s not what it looks like later, not sure how to articulate that with just one hand and facial expressions.
It’s nice seeing your friend so in his element, the energy of the room lifted by the band's energy on stage. You feel bad for waiting so long to come and watch, even if it was always out of your control.
Their set isn’t too long, only five songs, but they really make the most of their slot. The whole place seemed to get involved, everyone cheering when they finally finished up and headed off the small stage.
“You wanna get some air?” Steve asks, some loose hairs falling into his face as he looks down to you.
“Yeah, s’pretty hot in here.”
Steve leads you through the crowd, still holding onto your hand, and out through the venue doors into the parking lot. There’s a few people outside smoking, little groups gathered together all talking and drinking and looking like they belonged. It made you laugh a little to think about what you and Steve must look like here.
“That was fun, Eddie is so good.” You look down at the almost empty cup in your hand, swirling the remaining liquid around in it til it nearly splashes over the sides.
“Yeah, it was. Don’t think I’ll become a regular here though.” Steve laughs, giving your hand a squeeze as if to acknowledge that he is still holding it. You try not to read into it.
“Yeah, the place doesn’t really scream ‘Steve Harrington’.” You shrug, finally drinking the last of your beer. If it wasn’t warm when you first got it, it definitely was now.
You see Eddie walk outside and finally release Steve’s hand to skip over and hug him, already wishing you hadn’t let go because what if he doesn’t hold it again. You push the thought out of your head and try to focus on Eddie. “That was so good Ed’s, you looked so cool.”
“Thanks short stack.” Eddie leans back to pat you on your head. “‘Bout time you finally came.”
“I know, I don’t break promises.” You speak matter-of-factly, face all serious as you cross your arms over your chest.
Steve was beside you again, though not so close this time. “Good job, Munson. Guess you’re not all talk.” He teases, Eddie giving his shoulder a playful
shove in response.
“It’s good to see you two together. About time.” Eddie points between you and Steve, and your chest tightens as you process what he’s said.
“Oh, no, we’re not-“ You laugh, but it comes out awkward and forced and you look between Steve and Eddie and the floor and try to bargain with the powers that be to strike you down.
“Oh, shit, my bad.” Eddie looks around the parking lot, pressing his lips together as he sighs. “Better hurry it up Harrington, or someone else’ll snap her up.” He pats Steve on the back, and you look at him like he’s gone absolutely insane.
Steve nods, a weak laugh at Eddie's comment giving nothing away about how he feels about it.
You take a deep breath through your nose, hoping the cool night air might stop you from passing out on the spot.
“I better get back inside, have a good night kids. Stay safe.” Eddie waves you off as he walks back inside, disappearing into the dark room and leaving you outside with all the tension and awkwardness in the air that he’d put there. You’d be mad at him if he wasn’t such a nice guy.
You and Steve are both quiet for a minute, and you think this is finally it. You’d managed to keep your friendship untouched by your feelings for so long but it’d finally come crashing down.
“Reckon we head home?” Steve cocks his head as he looks down at you, you must look a sorry state given the pity filled smile he’s giving you.
“Yeah, probably for the best.” Your voice is quiet, and you drag your feet along as you walk to Steve’s car. You toss your cups away in a bin along the way, all over dramatic and woeful as you sigh with the movement.
The drive home was quiet. Steve would try and spark up a conversation but your brain was whirring and everything felt like too much and you could barely force a coherent sentence out.
When you finally arrive at Steve’s house, and your house respectively, you feel frozen in your seat. Because what if you get out and go home and that’s that? Steve stops giving you rides to work and stops watching movies with you and stops letting you stay in his bed when you drink a little too much and don’t want to be alone.
Steve says your name, and you force yourself to stop spiralling in your own thoughts to look over at him. “I had a really nice time tonight.”
“Really? You didn’t think the place was a bit gross?” You pulled the sleeves of your jacket down over your hands, holding them in your lap.
Steve laughs, shaking his head at you. “The Hideouts always been gross. I had a really nice time with you.” Even under the dim street lights Steve can see your puzzled expression, brows pinched together and a little pout on your lips.
“Well, yeah, we always have a nice time Stevie. S’why we’re friends.”
Steve sighed, because you were right. But it’s not what he was trying to say. He was never all that good with his words, and he also didn’t really know exactly what he wanted to say. “Y’know what Eddie said?”
“We don’t have to talk about it, it’s just Eddie, he just says stuff.” You can’t make eye contact as you speak, in half a mind to just bolt from the car, hop your fence and lock yourself in your house for the rest of your days.
“Well, yeah, he does. But I guess lately I’ve been thinking about it, about us.”
You swear your heart was moments away from actually bursting from your chest it was beating so hard, your hands feeling clammy as they gripped tightly onto the denim of your jacket sleeves. “What about us?”
“Just that we’re so close, you know? You’re my best friend, but then sometimes, lately, I look at you and it feels different.” Steve tries to gauge your reaction to his words, but your eyes are staring down at your hands in your lap and your hair is falling so that it covers your face. Maybe he’s got this majorly wrong, completely misread things between the two of you.
“Different how?” All you can manage is stupid questions pushing him for more, for him to just be clear and concise and put you out of your misery.
“Different like sometimes I think I want to kiss you.”
You stop fiddling with your jacket then. The words hitting you in the chest like a semi-truck. You’re not sure you actually heard him right, because you’ve been so certain all this time that your feelings were one sided. A hopeless crush that would just burn in your chest forever, longing for more but never getting it.
“You think you want to? Or you want to?” You finally look up at Steve, turning slightly in the passenger seat so you’re facing him. Seeing the way he’s looking at you, so full of affection and like you put the stars in the sky, makes your stomach flutter like there’s a hoard of butterflies in there waiting to be set free.
“I want to.” Steve breathes the words out, soft spoken like if he says them too loud it’ll scare you away. “If you want me to.”
Your mouth hangs open a little as you try to speak, words failing you completely. So you just nod, blinking quick a few times to make sure you’re actually awake and this isn’t just a cruel dream. “Yeah, I want you to.” You eventually manage, your voice cracking a little.
Steve moves carefully, his hand cupping your cheek so softly it’s almost as if he’s not touching you at all. You breathe in deep through your nose, closing your eyes in anticipation. You’re still not entirely convinced it’s happening until you feel his lips press against yours.
It’s slow and shy at first, a little unsure of what’s allowed when you’re kissing your best friend, when you finally cross that boundary. You tilt your head into his hand some more, as if to say it’s okay, permission to kiss you the way you’ve been dreaming about.
Your hand moves to Steve’s jaw, thumb running along his cheek against the stubble that was there after a couple of days of not shaving. You part your lips a little, and Steve takes your movements as a green light. He kisses you a little harder now, still gentle but with more behind it. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip making your breath hitch in your throat.
It’s a simple kiss, nothing crazy or wild but it’s just what you want. Because it was Steve, and he wants you.
When he finally pulls his mouth away from yours, he rests his forehead against your own. “Was that okay?”
You can’t help but giggle, because it’s such a ridiculous question to you. Of course it was okay, God, it was so much more than okay. “Yeah, Stevie, it’s okay.”
“So I can do it again?”
You’re both whispering, faces still so close that you don’t need to speak any louder. “Yeah, any time.”
Steve presses another gentle kiss to your lips, just a quick one this time but still as full of affection as first. You have to blink hard when he properly pulls away from you to try and stop your head from spinning.
“I wanna do this properly, y’know. Not just kiss you in my car. I wanna take you on a real date, wine and dine you.” Steve nudges your chin with his finger, head cocked to the side as he looks at you.
“I don’t really like wine.” You shrug. “I’ll give it a try though.”
“You’re a real trooper.”
“Anything for you.” You smile sweetly, and you mean it. You think you’d do absolutely anything for Steve Harrington. But it’s fine, because he’d do absolutely anything for you, too.
thank u so much for reading + thank u to the anon for the song rec / request <3
#i wrote this in one day im sorry its not proof read#but its here . i made it. i survived#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington x female reader
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I know everyone loves Wayne and Claudia falling in love, but what about Wayne and Susan?
cw: alcoholism
Think about it. Post S4 where Eddie and Max live ofc but are greatly hurt. And it’s a fucking wake up call for Susan Hargrove née Mayfield, let me tell you. Her daughter was almost killed and she was none the wiser because, when she isn’t working, she’s drunk/passed out…and sometimes she’s working and drunk. And yeah, she has her own grief, but she’s been ignoring Max’s this whole time and never realized how bad it got until she read Max’s letter to her.
So yeah, she devotes herself to getting sober, to getting better, to being better, both as an individual and as a mother.
Anyways, she’s there in the hospital, visiting Max every chance she can…when she isn’t backsliding into her cup. But she’s trying, it’s just hard. It’s an addiction and her little girl is in a coma and her stepson is dead and her ex-husband had been abusive but he’d been…okay, when he wasn’t angry. But he was gone now, just like her first husband who hadn’t been good either.
While at the hospital, she meets this gentleman she vaguely recalls from the trailer park. He’s there visiting his nephew who’s in a medically induced coma too, and…they get to talking. They commiserate the pain of having a child in the hospital.
She honestly didn’t even know what was going on with the murders because she was wasted the entire time, but Eddie had sold her stuff before, and though she wasn’t quite in her clear mind during those few times, he had seemed like a nice boy, and Wayne spoke so kindly of him now that she honestly couldn’t believe him guilty at all.
Eventually, Eddie heals enough to be brought out of his coma, and Susan is happy for Wayne but sorry to see him go once Eddie is released, but Max is still in a coma and Susan backslides again. She’s honestly kind of drunk at the hospital, a little belligerent even because why won’t her daughter wake up?!?
And then amazingly Wayne is there again, to keep her company, to listen to her woes, and to quietly ask her if she would want Max to see her like this when she wakes up?
The answer is, of course, no.
And Wayne still comes to the hospital to keep her company even after Eddie is released, whenever one of Eddie’s friends are around to keep him company and help him out while under house arrest, and some of those friends are Max’s friends too. She doesn’t recognize all of them, but she knows enough.
And then, some times later, after another round of earthquakes and another visit from a girl with a bleeding nose, Max wakes up.
It’s not easy, and Susan desperately craves a drink every single goddamn day, but…Wayne’s words make her realize she needs help. And surprisingly enough, Wayne is one of the people who helps her. Max visits Eddie when she’s released too—Max is actually a key witness in proving Eddie’s innocence as the only surviving victim of the murder spree—and so Susan and Wayne see each other a lot too.
Wayne gives up drinking in solidarity, even though he never had a problem with it, and together they work towards a life of sobriety. Even though Susan occasionally slips up, even though Wayne isn’t an official sponsor, he never judges her and is always there to offer a listening ear or helping hand when she’s having crisis days.
Wayne helps her stay sober, driving her to meetings, keeping her company when she feels herself backsliding, and in general just being there to support her.
Wayne is, she comes to realize, a caring, sensitive man, just like his nephew. He’s gentle, and even when he gets angry at the unjust world, he never takes it out on anyone as a scapegoat. He never truly raises his voice, never throws things, and never once lays his hand on anyone or anything in anger.
She’s there with Wayne when they catch Eddie kissing the boy who takes care of Max too, Steve. She remembers Neil saying those hateful words to Billy, the way Neil would leave bruises and scars both physical and not. She tenses, knowing what comes next.
Except Wayne just sighs loudly and reminds Eddie to keep it PG in shared spaces. Asks Steve if he caught the game the previous night. Eddie mouths off against Wayne for being a secret jock, and Wayne shoots Steve a look, prompting Steve to smack Eddie upside the head, more playful than anything.
Eddie grins, his hand on Steve’s knee, and Steve sits back with his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, smiles and calls Wayne “Uncle Wayne” easily and Wayne smiles back. The only moment of unease between the three of them was when Eddie and Steve realize she’s there. She pauses, then smiles and says she’s glad she hasn’t had to walk in on Max and anyone yet.
A week later she walks in on Max and Lucas. Wayne laughs at/with her in ironic solidarity.
Wayne helps her on her bad days, and eventually she actually makes it a month sober. Then two. She backslides during the holidays, but Wayne doesn’t judge her. She wants to do better. She just doesn’t think she has the strength to do so.
Until, on a stormy night she stumbles home drunk, she sees Max curled on the couch with tear tracks on her cheeks, having obviously fallen asleep crying. There’s a bat clutched in her arms and all the lights are on. Susan’s entrance startles her awake and Max cries out, terrified, and then when she realizes it’s just her mother there’s such a profound sadness and hurt in her expression that, even three shades to the wind, Susan realizes she never wants to see again.
Susan makes it one month, two months sober. Three months. Four months. Wayne is there every step of the way, and so is Max. There’s guarded hope there and Susan doesn’t want to fail her daughter again. Doesn’t want to fail Wayne, who has been so patient and kind with her. Doesn’t want to fail herself.
Five months sober.
When Susan is handed her six months chip, she wants to celebrate. Previously that would be with wine, or something stronger. Now, she orders pizza and soda and watches Max’s favorite movies with her. She asks Max if she can invite Wayne over too. Max agrees.
After, when Max has fallen asleep with her head in her mom’s lap, her mom’s fingers playing through her hair, Susan and Wayne share a private smile.
Wayne is a good man. Thoughtful, kind, and a better man than she had ever known. When she’s with him, she almost feels like she’s drunk again, except the good kind. The kind that makes you smile, that makes you giddy and happy, the kind that makes you hopeful.
Susan talks to Max. She’s subjected her daughter to terrible men before and she refuses to do it again. But she watches Max with Eddie—and Steve—and she doesn’t think she’s ever seen her smile so much. She watches her with Wayne, and while it had been awkward and wary at first, now Max grins her sharp toothed grin and banters with him just like she does Eddie.
Max takes a moment at her mother’s words, truly considers them. She studies her mother’s face. She looks at the display Eddie made for her to hold her collection of tokens as a thing of honor.
Max looks at the picture of her mother and Wayne that the boy Jonathan had taken during one of the group hang outs at the park. Neither Susan nor Wayne had known the picture was being taken. They were looking at each other, smiling and enraptured in conversation, their pinkies lightly touching on the bench seat.
Max nods and says “Yes.”
Susan asks Eddie.
Eddie gawks for a moment until Steve elbows him in the stomach. Eddie calls her “Lady Susan” and then tells her to keep it PG in shared spaces. Susan blushes and Steve smacks Eddie upside the head.
Susan asks Wayne.
She had never been the one to take initiative before. The men came to her and she accepted it because…well, they seemed okay at the time. Mostly. And she was expected to agree with their desires. Now, however, it’s her desires she listens to, and she doesn’t want an okay man. She wants a good one.
Wayne is startled to see her on his porch, flowers in her hand, and she stutters her request for a date. Wayne takes the flowers. Susan knows she finds a good man when he shyly smiles, flushing but happy with this role reversal, and invites her inside for coffee.
Eddie and Max make kissing sounds from around the side of the trailer.
Steve smacks them both upside the head.
Susan decides that that’s a very good idea, however, and closing the door behind her, she smiles with eyes clear and her heart open and kisses Wayne with the knowledge that being in love is so much better than being drunk.
She doesn’t miraculously stop craving the drink entirely, but she has a man who loves her by her side and a daughter who’s proud of her in her arms and a new son who never fails to make her laugh. And that’s more than enough for her.
Anyways, this is a thought I’ve had for a while, and one I keep intending to include into a fic of mine, though I haven’t had the chance to yet, so take this little thing of mine with you instead.
Hostage hotties: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump
#cw alcoholism#susan hargrove#wayne munson#uncle wayne#susan mayfield#stranger things#max mayfield#eddie munson#steve harrington#plot thots
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Cressida Torture Porn
RANT INCOMING: What the absolute fuck is wrong with this show and their love for torturing Cressida? Do they get off in making this girl suffer? If I was in her position, I would go apeshit too.
All this girl wants is a genuine connection, to be valued and all people do is knock her down. She lashes out horribly on people just like Penelope, but she’s punished while Penelope is considered a girlboss even though Cressida’s home environment is shittier than Penelope’s. Her hope from her suffocating fate was Eloise only for Eloise to push her to the side for a friend who lied to her for years and screwed her over. Got called a viper (EVEN THOUGH ELOISE KNOWS WHO LW IS! 🤬🤡) by the person she always wanted to befriend even before Eloise fell out with Penelope.
Cressida saved Eloise from loneliness but Eloise didn’t reciprocate when Cressida was in need. Even then, she liked Eloise so much that before she left to get shipped away to even a more emotionally absent relative, she wanted to reconcile with Eloise, but Eloise closed the chapter. She tried to say goodbye to Eloise before she left. Eloise didn’t even bother to look Cressida’s way when she left.
All for Penelope who has done considerably more damage to her than anyone. 😐😑
It was the first time ever I was genuinely upset at Eloise. Eloise knew about Cressida’s ordeal but still vilified her and abandon her like she was a side piece(ain’t far from the truth really). Eloise unfortunately had to drink the OOC Koolaid for Penelope to get her HEA. This made me despise Penelope more btw. While everyone is in a damn romantic sitcom catering to Pen, Cressida is fighting for her life in this SAW trap where it’s do or get fucked.
Cressida was a bitch throughout the show until we came upon her reasonings in S3 which made her more of a sympathetic character than Penelope ever was. We should feel bad for this “woe is me” jackass who’s more privileged than anyone in this goddamn show but not the one who has parents that are emotional as a spiked bat?
The one who’s been indoctrinated heavily by her mother to treat other women like enemies?
The one where it’s her 3rd time on the marriage mart, got the guy she had her sights on get taken away just for Penelope to say sike and marry Colin and for Lord Debling to go MIA?(the same happened to her with the fucking prince in season 1!)
The one who’s being forced to marry an old man cause rarely anyone wants her?
The one who lost a friendship she thought was genuine while that friend is going around dunking on her name?
The one who is actually looked down by the ton because they can’t take her seriously?
Her life pretty much sucks but the show keeps trying to shove in our faces that Cressida is a bully so she got what she deserved. Fuck Cressida Cowper, amirite?
Oh Christ.
I’m not justifying her rude and sometimes cringe actions, but if people can “understand” why Penelope does what she does, why can’t people extend the same courtesy to Cressida? Oh yes, she was mean to the show’s golden child so she gets the hammer.
Cressida didn’t expose Penelope to the queen even though she could have. She wasn’t even the one who wrote the fake Bridgerton slander, it was her mom and she even confronted her mom and made her displeasure known about it!
All she wanted was money to be free from her fate. She was desperate but the Bridgertons are like “haha u stupid and u suck. Speaking of suck, time to go suck on Penelope’s toes.”
Yeah, Cressida isn’t clever, she’s stupid right? Stupid enough to quickly figure out who LW was before you Bitchgertons. You hacks didn’t even figure it out when Colin and Penelope’s engagement was printed THE NEXT DAY!
They did Cressida so dirty this season like it’s really heartbreaking, no joke. Cressida is the true victim, not the redhead who got an undeserved HEA cause self-inserters and favoritism.
P.S. Penelope keeping her persona but just using her real name is SO FUCKING STUPID
#Bridgerton#cressida cowper#creloise#eloise how could you#so tragic wtf man#The show lives to kiss Penelope’s ass and I’m tired of it#Colin shut yo clown ass up you self absorbed loser you will never understand Cressida’s situation#Imma need a HEA for her or else
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Falling For It
Part 5
Hey...I am alive. This part is kind of mid buttttt at least it is finished, more jack content coming since I'm finishing up with school in two weeks.
Previous ... Next
Y/N sat with her friends at their favorite coffee spot, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of her stomach. Lexi's incessant complaints about Quinn were starting to grate on her nerves, but she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as she listened to her friend's woes.
"It's like he doesn't even care anymore," Lexi sighed, swirling her straw around in her drink with a frustrated look on her face. "I don't know what I did wrong."
Y/N exchanged a glance with Angie and Heather, who both rolled their eyes in unison. It wasn't the first time they'd heard Lexi lamenting about her relationship troubles, and they were starting to grow tired of the constant drama.
But before Y/N could interject, Lexi turned her attention to her, her eyes narrowing inquisitively. "So, what about you, Y/N? How's things going with Jack?"
Y/N felt her heart skip a beat at the mention of Jack's name, her mind racing as she tried to come up with a suitable response. She couldn't deny that things had been going well between them, but there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her that it was too good to be true.
"Oh, you know, same old, same old," she replied casually with a shrug, hoping to deflect any further questions. "We're just taking things one step at a time."
Lexi wasn't so easily deterred, her probing questions becoming more persistent with each passing moment. And as Y/N felt the eyes of her friends boring into her, she couldn't help but wonder if there was more truth to Lexi's words than she cared to admit.
Lexi leaned in closer, her voice dripping with faux sincerity. "You know, Y/N, you're so lucky to have found someone like Jack. He's such a catch."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, a flicker of suspicion crossing her features as she studied Lexi's expression. There was something in her tone that set her on edge, a subtle hint of insincerity that sent alarm bells ringing in her mind.
"Oh, really?" Y/N replied, forcing a tight smile. "And what makes you say that?"
Lexi shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a glint of mischief in her eyes that Y/N couldn't ignore. "Oh, you know, just his charm, his good looks, his... appeal," she added with a sly grin. "I wouldn't be surprised if some other girl tried to snatch him away from you."
Y/N felt a surge of anger bubbling up inside her, but she forced herself to keep her composure. She knew that Lexi's words were meant to unsettle her, to plant seeds of doubt in her mind. But she refused to let her friend's petty jealousy ruin what she had with Jack.
With a steely resolve, Y/N plastered on a fake smile and brushed off Lexi's comments with a casual wave of her hand. But deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that trouble was brewing on the horizon. “If that’s what he wants to do but I don’t think that will happen anytime soon.”
…
Later that night y/n sat with Hugo on the couch, his purring lulling her into a state of comfort as they both watched ‘How to get away with murder.’ The noise from the TV faded into the background as her thoughts drifted back to Jack, his charming smile and magnetic personality.
He had been taking her out every week up until now and she couldn’t help the giddiness that spread into her body as she replayed their last encounter. Despite Lexi's snarky comments earlier in the day, she refused to let anything dampen her spirits.
A buzz near her leg caught her attention momentarily, y/n sprung up and snatched her phone unlocking it to see Jacks name on her phone. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she read his message, the warmth of his words sending a flutter through her chest.
"Come out to the bar with us tonight," the text read, simple yet inviting.
She twiddled her fingers as she thought of a text to send back. Before she could even type out a reply, another message from Jack appeared on the screen.
Another buzz vibrated her hands as he sent another one. "I'll give you a big hug," he added, a playful tease laced in his words.
With a satisfied grin, she hit send on her message and tossed her phone aside, the thought of seeing him again tonight filled her with a warm anticipation, and she couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude for the unexpected invitation.
…
Y/N stepped into the bustling bar, the cacophony of voices and clinking glasses washed over her, mingling with the pulsating beat of the music. She navigated through the sea of people, her eyes scanning the crowded room in search of familiar faces just like last time.
The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter and chatter. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the dimly lit space as she made her way through the throng.
Her gaze landed on a familiar figure tucked away in the corner of the room. Her heart skipped a beat as she spotted Lexi and Jack engrossed in conversation, their heads bent close together in hushed conversation.
Every step brought her closer to him, her heart pounding in her chest as she drew nearer to the corner where they sat. Lexi's laughter rang out through the crowded bar, her voice carrying a hint of flirtatiousness that set Y/N's teeth on edge.
As she approached, she caught snippets of their conversation, the sound of their laughter mingling with the pulsating beat of the music. Y/N's eyes flickered to Jack's back, his broad shoulders blocking her view of his face. Lexi's voice floated over to her, laced with a playful charm that made Y/N's skin crawl.
"Jack, you're such a riot," Lexi laughed, her hand resting casually on his arm as she leaned in closer. "I could listen to your stories all night."
Y/N's jaw tightened at the sight, her stomach churning with a mixture of frustration and jealousy. She forced a tight smile, her fingers curling into fists at her sides as she struggled to keep her composure.
Jack's eyes lit up as he spotted her, a warm smile spreading across his face as he rose to greet her. "Sorry I'm late," Y/N interjected, her voice tinged with forced cheerfulness as she forced herself to meet Lexi's gaze. "Traffic was a nightmare."
Lexi's smile widened at her arrival, a glint of mischief dancing in her eyes as she turned her attention back to Jack. "Oh, don't worry about it," she replied, her tone dripping with honeyed sweetness. "We were just getting acquainted, weren't we, Jack?"
Y/N's heart sank at the implication, a surge of frustration bubbling up inside her. She clenched her jaw, her nails digging into the palms of her hands as she fought to keep her emotions in check. With a forced smile, she turned her attention to Jack, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for his response.
Jack noticed Lexi lingering, her eyes fixed on him with a hint of desperation. Ignoring her completely, he turned back to Y/N with a charming smile. "Hey, would you like to dance?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine interest as he extended his hand to her.
"I'd love to,” she answered.
His hands, warm and comforting, found their way to her shoulders, his fingers working their magic as he massaged away the knots of stress that had been building up all evening.
She couldn't help but sigh in relief, the weight of the world lifting off her shoulders as she leaned into his touch. His closeness, the warmth of his body pressed against hers, sent shivers of anticipation coursing through her veins.
"Better?" Jack murmured, his voice low and husky as he leaned in closer, his breath tickling her ear.
Y/N let out a soft chuckle, the tension that had been coiled tight within her chest slowly unraveling in his presence. "Much better," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she turned to face him, their eyes locking in a heated gaze.
With a sly grin, Jack took her hand in his, his touch sending electric currents dancing across her skin. "Good," he murmured, his voice filled with a hint of mischief as he pulled her closer, their bodies swaying in time with the music.
Their banter was playful, filled with teasing jabs and flirtatious remarks that left them both breathless with laughter. "You're quite the dancer, Y/N," Jack remarked, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he spun her around, their movements fluid and effortless.
Y/N grinned up at him, her heart pounding in her chest as she twirled under his guidance. "And you're not too bad yourself, Jack," she teased, Y/n leaned in closer, their faces inches apart.
As they lost themselves in the rhythm of the music, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation wash over her. In Jack's arms, she felt free, unburdened by the weight of the world as they moved together in perfect harmony.
They were joined by the rest of the group, swirling around them in a whirlwind of laughter and joy. Lexi, in her eagerness to join the fun, accidentally bumped into Y/N, causing her to stumble and spill her drink all over Y/N's dress.
Y/N froze, her eyes widening in disbelief as the cold liquid seeped through the fabric, soaking her to the skin. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Lexi exclaimed, her voice tinged with feigned panic as she reached out to dab at the stain with a napkin.
But Y/N didn't hear her apologies, her mind consumed with frustration and anger as she turned on her heel and stormed off towards the bathroom, desperate to escape the eyes of onlookers and regain her composure.
The dimly lit hallway provided a welcome respite from the noise and chaos of the bar, the cool tiles beneath her feet a stark contrast to the heat of the crowded dance floor. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, her dress clinging to her skin in damp patches.
She reached for a handful of paper towels, dabbing at the stain with shaky hands as she tried to salvage what was left of her ruined dress. But no amount of wiping could erase the humiliation and frustration that gnawed at her insides, her mind replaying the events of the evening over and over again in an endless loop.
Taking a moment to collect herself, Y/N straightened her shoulders and squared her jaw, determined not to let Lexi's carelessness ruin her night. With a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped back into the dimly lit hallway, ready to face whatever the night had in store for her.
She approached the booth where they were sat, she could hear the murmur of their voices, punctuated by bursts of laughter and animated gestures. Taking her place by Jack's side, Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as she settled into her seat, her fingers instinctively intertwining with his.
The group seemed to be deep in conversation, their voices rising and falling in a steady rhythm as they discussed their plans for the rest of the evening.
Quinn and Nico were engaged in a spirited debate, their voices growing increasingly heated as they argued back and forth. But Jack's touch was a soothing balm, his grip firm and reassuring as he squeezed her hand gently, his eyes meeting hers with a silent understanding.
Quinn leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he addressed the group. "Alright, so here's the plan," he began, "We can just go to our lake house. For some ya know late night fun"
Nico raised an eyebrow, a skeptical expression crossing his face. "And what exactly does 'late-night fun' entail?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement.
Quinn grinned, shooting Nico a playful wink. "Oh, you know, the usual—bonfires, music, maybe a little bit of skinny-dipping if we're feeling adventurous," he replied, his words met with a chorus of laughter from the group.
Lexi nudged Y/N, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Sounds like it's going to be quite the party," she remarked, her tone teasing as she glanced over at Jack.
Y/N rolled her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "Oh, I'm sure it will be," she quipped, shooting Jack a knowing look.
The conversation continued around them, Jack leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, "Let's go." His words sent a shiver down her spine, a thrill of anticipation coursing through her veins as she nodded in agreement.
With a quick glance at her friends, Jack's hand firmly in hers as they made their way towards the exit.
…
The lake house stood nestled among towering trees, its wooden facade blending seamlessly with the surrounding nature. She marveled at the tranquility of the setting, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of pine and the distant sound of birdsong adding to the serene atmosphere. She took a moment to soak it all in before Jack's footsteps approached from behind.
"Hey," Jack greeted, a warm smile gracing his features as he joined her by the edge of the lake.
"Hey," Y/N replied, returning his smile, feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest. Together, they wandered towards the lake house, their footsteps crunching softly on the gravel path. Y/N's cheeks flushed in embarrassment as Jack's hand found the small of her back, guiding her closer to him.
The wooden structure loomed before them, its windows reflecting the shimmering surface of the lake. Jack led Y/N inside, and she found herself in awe of the rustic charm of the interior.
Their tour culminated in Jack's room on the second floor, a cozy retreat with a panoramic view of the lake. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight, the tranquil waters stretching out before her in a mesmerizing tableau.
"This is amazing," she breathed, turning to Jack with a smile.
"I'm glad you like it," Jack replied, his voice was soft, filled with warmth. His eyes sparkling as he led her to the window. Together, they stood in silence, gazing out at the serene landscape, the soft lapping of waves against the shore providing a soothing backdrop.
In that moment, time seemed to stand still, and Y/N found herself lost in the depth of Jack's gaze, a warmth spreading through her veins.
“I really like you y/n.” He said softly, his lips softly trailing down to the side of her neck before whispering. Y/N felt her heart swell with affection for this person who had captured her attention and her heart.
“Tell me to stop.” His grip tightened on her hips as she continued to stare outside the window. His kisses became more eager, becoming more passionate as he pulled y/n closer to his body.
A gasp escaped her lips causing jack to smirk, his hands creeping up to her back. Y/n looked up to meet his eyes not caring about her doubts anymore. “Kiss me,” she whispered. Jack’s lips met hers in a rush, y/n could no longer breathe due to the intensity.
Her breath was caught in her throat as jack wrapped his hands around her thighs and lifted her, slowly carrying her to the bed facing the window.
He dropped her down on the plump mattress before shrugging off his jacket. Y/n watched from her position, hungrily eyeing his figure hidden by the white shirt he was wearing.
He crawled back between her legs, her heart pounded at the sight of him so close in the intimate position. “Tell me to stop.” He begged practically, Y/n shook her head no, placing her hands in his hair while he gazed at her.
She trailed her nails down his torso, eyeing his body in the dim light of the room. His hands slide down to her hips and squeeze once more before moving a little lower to her thighs. “Why are u acting so scared Jack” y/n questioned teasingly.
"Scared?" He laughed at the comment as he caressed the smooth skin of her thighs a bit harder. "You think I'm scared of you?"
“I think you’re scared of what I can show you. How good I can be,” she tilted her head, meeting his gaze with a soft smile.
"Is that right?" He chuckled, the sound low and intimate.
Abruptly, Ang and Jesper walk in, interrupting the moment. “Oh jack, you guys should uhm come out and see everyone downstairs. They’re all waiting for you” she says with a smirk to jack. They both giggle as they close the door and leave the room in a rush.
Jacks smile quickly turns to a scowl. He leans back over y/n and whispers, “I’m not finished with you.” His hand runs down her face and caresses her cheek before he walks out of the room, leaving y/n to sit there shocked and speechless. She ran her fingers over her bruised lips, letting a small giggle out.
#fluff#angst#masterlist#new writers on tumblr#new fic#jack hughes fic#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes smut#nico hischier#nj devils#new jersey devils#jesper bratt#new jeresy#jh86#luke hughes#quinn hughes#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes#nhl players#nhl hockey#nhl imagine#nhl#hockey#ice hockey
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After Dark - Chpt.1
Summary: Tucked away in a lower level of Coruscant, Crosshair finds himself in a bar that he frequents - not for the drinks, nor the music, but for one woman, and one woman alone.
After months of silent encounters and flirtatious glances, Crosshair finally plucks up the courage to approach her.
Hopefully, she reciprocates his admiration.
Pairing: Crosshair x f!Reader
Rating: SFW (but will end NSFW)
Word count: 2k
Tags: Slow burn, Multi-chapter, Strangers to lovers, Flirting, Drinking, Dates.
Notes: Inspired by After Dark by Mr. Kitty - a favourite song of mine that reminds me of Crosshair.
I've been slowly working on this for a few months, and I figured I should at least post the first chapter lol. Curse depression for killing my motivation to write :(
She's here. Again.
That girl at the bar, sitting alongside her friends, chatting away in between the soft glances in his direction.
Crosshair's local watering hole, sometimes accompanied by his brothers, is a dingy dive bar near the lower levels of Coruscant. It's no 79's, far from it. Fuck that place, with its thumping music, overprices drinks, and hoards of regular clones. The Batch prefer to drink somewhere quieter - Crosshair prefers to drink somewhere quieter.
He's alone tonight, dressed in a crisp shirt and pressed pants, looking far too tasteful for a man who is simply out for a few drinks by himself. He's always been a fan of his own company, secluded in his usual little corner, a half-empty glass of bourbon sitting on his table. Within a couple of minutes, he'll finish the last swigs, and order yet another.
Crosshair never drinks heavily, a handful of doubles, and then he's gone. He'll stay in this bar for, what? An hour? Two at the most? He just needs some quiet time to himself, an escape from the rush of war and destruction, but coming to this particular bar wasn't his choice.
Back when the Batch were first deployed, and they returned to Coruscant after their first successful missions, they celebrated by going out on a bar crawl. Wrecker's idea, and seeing as they were still young and dumb(er), they all agreed to it.
One thing led to another, and they stumbled upon this place by chance. It's quiet, with soft music playing faintly through the speakers, a range of guests who keep to themselves, and shitty decor that was in dire need of a refurbishment a hundred years ago. But most importantly - they serve clones.
The Batch were only meant to have one drink here, one and done, then onto the next bar! Until a group of ladies entered the venue, a particular one catching the Sniper's eye.
Crosshair has never been one to ogle, stare, fantasize, or even crush on another being. Romance is… phah! Not his thing, Wrecker's maybe, and Hunter's for sure. But Crosshair? What's the point? Wasting your time, credits, and emotions on someone who will string you along for a few months, and then dump you out of the blue. Crosshair's cynical mindset has kept him far from ever obtaining a love life.
Everything clicked into place when he saw you, a revealing dress hugging at your body, heels that were clearly new from their lack of scuff marks, pristine hair and makeup, and a cute little clutch bag hung over your shoulder. Yeah, his admiration was noticeable, as his brothers caught wind of it within an instant, and to this day, Crosshair has never lived it down.
Yet, despite all his years of training, and the woes that he had already faced, he couldn't pluck up the courage to simply… walk over to you, and say hi.
Maker, no. An elite Trooper such as himself doesn't have a lick of courage when it comes to intimacy. Or rather, he didn't. Such a thing has grown over the months that Crosshair has spent returning to this establishment, either by himself, or with one of his brothers. Never the whole pack at once, though, as they'd definitely do something to embarrass him in front of you.
But tonight's the night. Crosshair has promised himself that. Even if (when) you reject him, it'll be worth it. He tried, and he can cross 'love' off his list of things to do, and move onto the next thing.
Although, Crosshair is hopeful. He's met your gaze one too many times, flirty glances from across the room, your girls giving you the odd nudge and wink whenever they notice that Crosshair is looking your way. The void in Crosshair's chest burns with admiration after each and every minor encounter, and the butterflies in your stomach dance and flutter just the same way. Such a pleasant feeling for two people who have never spoken a word to each other.
Your girls, like his brothers, are just as eager to get you two finally talking. This must be part of one big plan, as they inform you that they're going out for a smoke, leaving you to continue sitting at the bar, watching their drinks for them.
Just as luck would have it, Crosshair finishes the last of his bourbon, the liquid courage pumping through his veins. He rises to his feet before his brain can really process what's about to happen, and as he approaches the bar, all he does is rest his hands atop the counter as he waits to be served.
He's standing right beside you, yet you're facing forward. If only you'd tilt your head to the right, and look up a little, you'd finally make close contact with the man who's been clouding your thoughts every night. Finally, you do it, looking at him, only for your words to fall flat.
Crosshair flops worse than you do, almost letting out a squeak from his cracking voice. He's nervous, but he puts in an attempt to mask that daunting emotion. "Hey," Crosshair finally settles. No cheesy pickup line, no textbook flirting, just a simple greeting in hopes that you'll at least welcome him into a conversation.
"Hey," you greet in return, matching (or attempting to match) his content demeanour. Crosshair practically shivers at your voice, smoother than any velvet that he's ever felt. And now that he's up-close, he can already feel himself getting lost within your eyes, warm pools welcoming him in, a sight that he wishes to wake up to every morning.
'Get a grip!' Crosshair reminds himself, and plays his second card. "Would you care for a drink?" he offers. It's a little stereotypical, but it makes his intentions clear.
"Only if you let me buy the next round."
Ah! Your tone, the soft sprinkle of sass. Such wit and charm, and you've only said ten words. Crosshair prays that he's met his match, someone just as dry and cynical as himself.
"It's a deal, Miss…?" Crosshair's words trail off, but his question is quickly answered as you give him your name. He nods, repeating it with grace, and then gives his own. "I'm Crosshair."
"That would explain the tattoo," you point out. Crosshair often forgets about it, the stick and poke tattoo right across his face. He wonders if you like it.
"It's my area of speciality," Crosshair explains with a light shrug. "I'm a sharpshooter for the Republic."
"A clone?" you question, and Crosshair has to bite back at hissing at the word. Ugh, don't remind him!
"To some degree," he shrugs once more, then focuses his attention to giving the bartender his order, swiftly followed up by yours.
Attempting to relax, Crosshair perches himself on the stool besides you. "And what about you?" he questions, making light conversation. You tell him your job, as dull as it can be, "but it pays the bills," you explain.
"Mhm, I know how you feel," he hums. Crosshair's eyes wander across your body, not in a perverted way, but out of sheer curiosity. "You always dress well," he finds himself complimenting without a single thought, throwing both of you off.
"Thank you," you reply with a smile. "I can say the same about you. You can't go wrong with a button-up shirt and smart pants."
Crosshair catches himself smiling. "Thanks," he responds, and for once, not with a hiss.
"You're not with your friends tonight," you point out, vaguely gesturing to the empty booth where his rowdy bunch tend to rest.
"My brothers," Crosshair corrects you. "They can be a bit… much sometimes. I enjoy coming here to get a break from them," Crosshair explains, letting his eyes roll in annoyance at those that he secretly loves.
"Is that the only reason why you come here?" you ask with a wink, causing the tips of Crosshair's ears to turn red, and the sea in his stomach to unravel into a thunderous storm. May the Maker help him, because he's starting to realise just how uneducated he is when it comes to feelings.
"You know damn-well that's not the only reason," Crosshair replies with a chuckle. "I simply adore the decor," he follows up, attempting to bring some humour to the conversation. Internally, he's cringing at his poor attempt, yet it's enough to let you laugh.
"Me too," you laugh. "There's nothing that I love more than old furniture that is soaked with alcohol!"
Crosshair laughs along with you, but with every chuckle, his stomach turns deeper with unease. Maker, he's finally here, speaking to you, and who would have thought that you'd be perfect in every way?
Then again, things are far too early for Crosshair to truly know what you're like. Hopefully, if you allow him, he'll discover who you really are within time.
Your drink being placed on the bar top catches your eye, and you don't hesitate to bring it up to your lips. "Thank you again for the drink," you comment after taking a sip.
"It's no problem," Crosshair replies with a soft shrug, helping himself to his glass of bourbon.
"Why don't we try a different bar for my round?" you suggest, which throws Crosshair off guard. This is swiftly becoming an impulsive date, not that Crosshair minds. Then again, does he? He hasn't got a clue what he's doing, but seeing as you're initiating things, he must be doing a decent job. (For now.)
"I'd like that," Crosshair agrees, being careful to use like and not love. Can't be too eager!
The sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floor draws your eyes away from the Sniper, peering over your shoulder to see that your girls have finally returned. They're nattering away as they approach you, not paying any mind, only they stop in their tracks, mouths agape, when they finally look in your direction.
Never would they have guessed that they'd be met by this sight - their friend, who they left to sit alone whilst they went outside for a smoke, is finally sitting next to that reclusive man who she gets giddy just from the sight of.
"Girls," you call out to them. With a hand raised, you gesture to your new-found friend (date?)
"This is Crosshair."
#tbbwriting#the bad batch#tbb#tbb crosshair#crosshair x reader#tbb crosshair x reader#f!reader#after dark#tbb fanfic#bad batch#reader insert
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ೃ⁀➷*Boyfriendೃ༄
Pairing: Alisa x fem!reader
Words: 1k
Warnings: Drinking
Synposis: Your boyfriend breaks up with you and your friends drag you to a party. Not happy to be there you bump into Alisa who makes the night worthwhile.
You couldn’t believe your friends had managed to drag you to this party. It was inevitable that they were going to, your boyfriend had just broken up with you and they were tired of your moping around. So here you were, dressed up and hating every second of it. The drink you had been nursing since you had arrived growing warm. With a sigh you toss it in the first trashcan you see. On your way towards the door to end this awful night it gets worse because you stumble into the most beautiful woman you have ever seen in your life.
“I’m so sorry,” you say, cheeks growing warm with embarrassment.
“That’s alright, I’m Alisa,” she says as she places a hand on your shoulder to steady you. “Were you leaving?” You nod as you look down towards your now much too uncomfortable shoes.
“My friends all went away, even though this was their idea to ‘cheer me up’, lot of good it did me.” Your eyes widen a little as you look up to her. “Sorry, you probably didn’t come here to hear the woes of a stranger.” She lets out a laugh and suddenly your fiddling with the jewelry around your fingers.
“Well, we can’t have that. Here-” She smiles down at you and leans down a bit- “ I’ll make a deal with you.You hang out with me for half an hour and if you’re still not having fun I’ll take you home.” Your breath hitches in your throat.
“Okay,” it comes out so quiet you’re almost sure she didn’t hear you but a wide grin breaks out across her face as she grabs your hand and leads you to the dance floor. You can feel a smile beginning to grow across your own face. Eyes locked on your intertwined fingers. It doesn’t matter that the song playing is the same one from a few minutes ago. It doesn’t matter that there’s people crowding and pushing around you. It doesn’t matter because she’s looking at you with the sweetest gaze and she’s holding your hand as you jump and twist to the music.
Laughs escape your lips and soon enough half an hour has flown by. You're both out of breath as she leads you off to a corner. “So, are you having fun or do you want me to walk you home?”
“Definitely the first option,” you say, the smile that had appeared half an hour earlier is still there. Your cheeks are beginning to hurt from the intensity of it. She laughs and grabs both of your hands.
“Well then, let’s keep dancing.” She pulls you back to the dance floor.
Hours go by of the two of you smiling, laughing, and dancing. By the end of the night, or the beginning of a new day, you’re sweating. Cheeks flushed, out of breath, but smiles still firmly planted on your faces. By the time people are getting kicked out of the house you are faced with reality again.
“Can I have your number?” You ask as you pull out your phone.
“In a let’s be friends way or you're hot and I want to take you on a date way? Because for me it’s the second option.” Her own face is a bit flushed as she asks and pulls out her own phone.
“Definitely the second option.” You smile and say softly. The anxiety that was weighing on your shoulders is gone. You hand your phone to her and you take hers. After putting your numbers and photos in your phones are handed back.
She walks you home and as much as you don’t want the night to end it does. It ends with a simple kiss to your cheek and a date planned for the following week.
It’s funny how much slower the week passes by when you have something to wait for. Your friends had caught on to your giddiness and were teasing you about how you should listen to them more often. That conversation ends with you pushing them away gently and leaving the room.
You arrive at the cafe and there is Alisa, looking as gorgeous as usual. She has a black crop top on and slacks with a grey blazer thrown over her shoulders. Her hair is kept out of her face by a simple pair of cat eye sunglasses pushed on her head. Her face is unamused and guarded until she sees you. Her face immediately brightens and she waves you over.
“Y/N! I’m so happy you were able to make it.” She pulls you into a hug and you hug her back.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You smile softly at her and she holds your hand as she pulls the both of you up to the counter.
“What would you like?” Oh…you know that voice. You press your lips in a tight line as you look at the boy in front of you. Alisa looks at you a little confused before the dots click in her head. No worries though as she wraps her arm around your shoulder.
“What would you like my love?” Is it warm in here or are you just blushing? You’re just blushing. You give her a shy smile and tell her your order. “I’ll have a caramel iced coffee and my date here will have c/o. I’ll be paying of course.” She pulls out her card before you can stop her and pays for both of your drinks.
As you walk back to your table she notices you shiver and takes off her blazer effectively wrapping it around your shoulders. “Thank you Alisa.”
“Of course, anything for such a cute date. You’re just so cute, how could I not?” She laughs and as you sit at the table, hand in hand, jacket thrown over your shoulders, and a smile on your face you think.
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to go to that party after all.
I hope you guys enjoyed!!! It’s pride month so happy gay month everyone!!! There’s Three more fics coming your way as Pride Month specials! There’s still time to join the taglist for the others!!!
Crush (Kiyoko)
Girls (Yachi)
Casual (Saeko) -6/8
Taglist: @nnnyxie
Masterlist
#haikyu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#alisa haiba x reader#alisa x reader#hq fluff#haikyu fluff#shroom writes#shroom’s pride month girl kisser agenda
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A Mishap
Garreth Weasley x Slytherin! Reader Smut
Summary: Sebastian is always picking fights. Sometimes, revenge on the Sallow boy affects his friends. Ominis knows the woes of it. Now, Y/n got the brunt of this revenge planned by some Gryffindor boys.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
"Like you could, Prewet. I would like to see you try."
"I could, Sallow. Duel me right now!"
Sebastian cast Levioso on the Gryffindor boy as he walked by. He winked at Leander's 'girl' making her giggle.
"Nice try, Leander. Come back more prepared next time."
Leander thumped to the floor. He angrily looked in the direction Sebastian walked. He growled,
"I will definitely win one day, Sallow. Mark my words."
He stood up, dusted himself off, and went to find Garreth. He found him in the restrooms at his 'Secret Caldron'. Everyone knew it was in here. They were just surprised the Professors didn't. He pushed open the stall door,
"Hey, Garreth. I have a favor to ask for."
---------~
It was a couple days after the incident. Leander's plan was going swimmingly. He got Garreth on board to get revenge on Sallow. It was simple. Make a loopy potion, slip it into Sallow's drink at lunch, and after it kicks in, duel him, then, Leander will be victorious.
It was time. Leander will cause the distraction and Garreth will pour it into his cup. Easy right?
Leander approached the Slytherin table and the famous trio. Sebastian scoffed,
"What do you want, Prewet? Another loss?"
"No, Sallow. I came to ask a favor of Y/n."
Sebastian and Ominis raised an eyebrow. Ominis turned to him,
"What do you want with Y/n?"
Said girl looked just as confused as they did. Leander smirked,
"I want to request her help with some dueling practice. I was thinking and the fact she bested you, Sallow, says a lot so, I want to learn from the best."
Sebastian growled,
"You better walk away now. Y/n won't help you."
"Let the girl herself tell me. Well, Y/n? Is what Sallow saying true?"
The girl finally turned like the other two towards him.
Garreth saw his chance, reached across the table, and grabbed what he thought was Sallow's drink. He dumped the little vile of potion into the drink and stirred it quickly before running back to the Gryffindor table.
"Um.. Leander. I actually have to help Poppy with the animals today so, I apologize."
Leander shrugged as he hid is widening smirk,
"It was worth a shot. Have a good day."
He turned and walked away. He finally released the hold on his smirk as he walked over to Garreth. He clasped the other boy's shoulder,
"Good job, Garreth!"
The trio went back to eating. Y/n picked up her cup and thought she smelt something but, ignored it. She took a large drink of her drink. She thought she felt something off about the drink. She just shook her head and went about her lunch. Garreth watched from afar and saw Y/n drink the drink. His eyes widened.
It was actually her drink. He knew he messed up but, he said nothing to Leander. For once he hoped his potions didn't work. He hoped that it was null and Y/n would be okay. He'll stay close by just in case and approach her when she is alone.
-----~
Y/n felt more and more off. She felt her body heating up and her brain felt full. Her face started to hurt red and she started to feel out of breath as she stood in the greenhouse. Professor Garlick saw this and felt the girl's head,
"Oh dear! You are boiling! Um.."
She looked around quickly and spotted someone,
"Garreth! Come here. Quickly!"
Garreth rushed over and saw Y/n's state. He knew what was wrong. It was his potion he made for Sallow.
"Take Y/n to the nurse quickly!"
Garreth nodded. Y/n tried to walk only to wobble forward. He quickly put his arm around her waist and her arm over his shoulders.
"I got her, Professor."
After they walked out of ear shot, Garreth looked over at the Slytherin girl,
"Can you describe what you feel? I may be able to help."
Y/n looked over at him glazed over eyes,
"I feel hot and my brain is full."
"What are your thoughts?"
"A lot. I need these off."
Garreth knew she meant her clothes by her gesture. He looked around quickly and tugged her towards the Gryffindor common room.
"Y/n. I'm taking you to my dorm. I'll help, I promise."
He quickly ushered her to his dorms. Thank Merlin most of the students were in their classes. He got to the stair case that led to the dorm. He tried to walk Y/n up them but, her legs started to shake.
"Hold on, Y/n. Let me just."
He moved his left arm and picked up the dizzy girl bridle-style. She was surprisingly light. Her arms found their way to his neck. She tucked her head into his chest. He looked down at her and chuckled.
They finally made it to his room. He opened the door and closed it behind him. He looked around the cluttered room for a chair. All his chairs have books stacked upon them. He grumbled to himself. He just took the girl to his bed and laid her down. He then walked away to lock his door. He didn't want Leander or anyone for that fact, to see Y/n in this state. It was his fault and he was gonna figure out how to make her better.
Garreth turned to the girl,
"So, let's figure-"
His breath caught in his throat. Y/n was taking off her clothes muttering hot over and over.
"Y/n! What are you doing?!"
Garreth felt his pants tighten. He always had a crush on the girl in his bed. Ever since she helped him with getting a fwooper feather for one of his experiments, he was smitten. He tried to get close to her by going on ingredient retrievals but, any other time, she was busy. It was hard because they are in different houses but, that never hindered him from trying and seeking her out.
He snapped out of his thoughts when her skirt was tossed onto the floor in front of him, followed by her knickers. He quickly looked up at Y/n and rushed to her. He grabbed her hands keeping her from removing her bra. The red-headed boy was face was flushed as he made his eyes only look into hers. No where else.
"Y/n. This is indecent. Stop taking off your clothes."
She looked up at him with hazy hooded eyes and whined,
"But, it's hot. I need it off, Gar. I'm hot."
The nickname went straight to the male's groin. He held back a groan and stared at her before taking a breath,
"What are your thoughts right now, Y/n?"
Y/n moved her head closer to his face and gave him a peck on the lips,
"You, Gar. Help me. Please."
Every once of self-restraint went out of the window. He kissed Y/n deeply. He gently pushed down onto his bed, her hands now being held beside her head by Garreth's larger ones. The girl moaned out and his tongue entered her mouth. He moved in between her exposed thighs.
He finally broke the kiss and moved his hands to her waist. He started to kiss down her neck, nipping and sucking on the flushed skin. Y/n let out whimpers and moans at the sensations, her body overly sensitive because of the potion.
When Garreth got to the fabric of her bra, he looked up at her asking silently for permission. His green eyes filled with love met with her (E/c) lustful ones. She nodded and arched her back so he could unclasp it. He then tossed it aside. He continued his conquest of exploring her body.
He kissed, sucked, nipped, and bit down the girl's body. Her hands tangled and gripped themselves in his thick red hair. She moaned, whimpered, and begged as he explored. Her hands then moved from his hair to his shoulders and she tugged on his clothing. He chuckled in her skin,
"Okay, lovely. I'll take them off for you."
He sat up, leaned back on his knees, and started to unbutton his vest. The girl below him proceeded to squirm and rub her thighs together to relieve the building tension. Garreth paused his unbuttoning and gentle pressed a hand on her stomach,
"Hey. You aren't being a good girl right now, Y/n."
He leaned over and whispered into her ear as he moved his hand to her thighs,
"Be a good girl and open those legs for me or, I stop right now. We don't want that right?"
Y/n answered with a whimper and opened her thighs for him.
"Good girl."
He leaned back and continued to unbutton his shirt. He praised her as he did, watching her pussy clench around nothing. Once he was only in his boxers, his hands moved back to Y/n's craving body. His hands squeezed her inner thighs.
"G-Gar. P-please. I need you."
Garreth chuckled and moved his face closer to her exposed center.
"Patience, Lovely. All in due time."
His hands moved toward her center as his lips met hers once again in a searing kiss. His thumb rubbed over her entrance. Her hips jerked as she moaned into the kiss. He broke the kiss and smirked,
"You're dripping. I bet you can't wait for me to finally enter you."
He rubbed her entrance before inserting a finger into her quivering entrance.
"A-Ah Gar~"
He slid his finger in and out of her as he kissed her breast and sucked on them.
"Enjoying yourself, Lovely?"
He slowly inserted another finger into her as his thumb rubbed her clitoris. She arched off the mattress followed by a moan.
As Garreth played with her, he felt her start to get tighter and tighter around his finger. Well, just as Y/n was about to cum, he pulled out his fingers, sucking off her juices as she whined and looked up at him. He pulled his fingers with a pop. He discarded his boxers finally and Y/n's eyes widened. He smirked at her and stroked his cock. He winked at her and leaned forward, capturing her in a kiss as his tip teased her entrance. Y/n pushed her hips toward him, his tip slipping inside her in the process.
Garreth started to pant feeling her squeeze around him. He gripped her hips as he started to push into her slowly. Y/n hands hand found his back and gripped tightly.
Once he was fully sheathed, they both took a couple breaths. Garreth kissed her gently and rested his forehead on hers. Y/n looked up at him and she gently kissed him. She wiggled her hips and he took the hint and started to thrust into her gently at first and progressively got harder and faster.
"G-Garreth! Ahh~"
"Y/n. FuckK~ You're so fucking tight. What a good girl you are for me."
Y/n moved her hips to meet his as he thrust into her. Her back arched off the bed, her nails digging into his back, leaving red lines in their wake. His hands gripped her hips with a bruising grip as he lost himself in the woes of pleasure. He lost himself in her.
Garreth felt her getting tighter and tighter around him. Y/n's moans and the yells of his name getting louder and louder. He panted into her neck.
"Gar! I'm-I'm-"
Garreth growled and thrusted faster,
"Come for me, Y/n. Come on my cock."
Y/n's back arched as he bit down on her neck. She finally came with a scream over his name,
"Garreth!"
"Good girl."
Garreth thrust a few more times and came as well. He and Y/n just lay there, coming down from there high. The redhead nuzzled his head into her chest and hugged her close. Her hands found purchase in his hair.
The lustful haze finally cleared from her mind. She looked down at the Gryffindor boy. She sighed,
"So, are you going to tell me why you felt so responsible for my condition?"
He looked up at her,
"So, Leander paid me to make a potion to weaken Sebastian so he can finally beat him a a duel. Well, I was supposed to slip the potion into Sebastian's cup and I chose the wrong cup."
Garreth expected Y/n to get mad and leave. He was surprised to hear her start laughing. He looked up at her with a confused look. She calmed down.
"You're okay, Garreth. I'm not mad at you. That's such a pitiful thing Leander tried to pull. I could never be mad at you if I'm honest."
The green-eyed male hugged her tighter,
"I still feel bad that it happened. I don't wish anything bad to happen at my hand. I love you too much."
Y/n's eyes widened and her hand paused its trail through his hair,
"Y-you love me?"
Garreth looked up at her again and smiled,
"Yeah. I do. I have ever since the fwooper feather incident. It's just hard to catch you sometimes because you are busy. I always watched from afar. I admire you and I love your smile. Your laugh makes me happy. I just love you."
Y/n's eyes glazed over with tears,
"I love you too, Gar. I really do."
Garreth looked up at her with his goofy smile,
"Good because I'm not leaving. You love me and I love you. Plus, I did just bed you and I don't do that willy nilly so, your stuck with me."
She laughed and kissed the top of his head,
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
Y/n soon fell asleep. Garreth, reluctantly, got up and cleaned up their mess, making sure to clean up the sticky mess between her thighs. Afterward, he closed the curtains around his bed and cuddled his lovely Slytherin under the covers. He fell asleep with a smile on his face.
BONUS:
Leander grumbled as he made his way to his dorm room. He had a bone to pick with Garreth. The potion didn't work and he ended up losing to Sallow... again. Anger was beyond how he felt. He finally arrived at his dorm room and pulled the handle. It's locked? During midday? That's odd.
After unlocking it with an Alohomora, he walked inside to see the curtains pulled around Garreth's bed. He didn't see the discarded clothing on the floor. Leander angrily stomped over to the boys bed and pulled the curtains,
"Garreth, you fucking dumb-"
He looked to see Garreth cuddling a certain Slytherin girl. He closed the curtain and a smirk crossed his face. He reached into Y/n's skirt pocket and took her wand. He had something to tell Sallow and he had proof that it was happening by having Y/n's wand.
He quickly departed the room and ran to find the Slytherin boy.
#x reader#hogwarts legacy#garreth weasley#sebastian swallow#ominis gaunt#garreth weasley x you#garreth x you#garreth weasley x reader#garreth x reader#hogwarts legacy garreth#garreth weasley smut#garreth weasley x reader smut#hogwarts imagine#hogwarts legacy imagine
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The Ugly Duckling
(My Swansea Headcannon of his early life)
I imagine Swansea originally got kicked out of his house when he was seventeen. It might have been because of his bad grades and his “unique lifestyle” (I Headcannon him as a greaser as a teen) so for awhile he just roamed the streets going between jobs, hanging out with his friends who didn’t go to college, drinking, drinking a lot. I imagine he did this an escape from his already terrible life. So he drank a lot which caused him to get fired a lot. Until one night when he was fired from his job and decided to get a drink at a bar around the block. He comes in already drunk out of his mind as he looks up and sees this women standing here, the bartender. She’s his age black hair, hazel eyes, and a smirk on her face. He tries to use his unwilling charm on her we’re she laughs and aks what he wants to order and drunk out of his mind he just goes with it. And when it’s about two in the morning he leaves and heads to his apartment we’re he still can’t get his mind away from this woman. He doesn’t know what it is maybe it was hee laughter or the way she didn’t judge (atleast not to his face) but there was just something about her. So he made excuses every week as to why to visit her it could’ve been he was in town this week or running from a gang in the next but they got to know eachother more and more and he found out her name was Ducky. They never spent more than the night and this went on for years and at the bar he doesn’t know if it was the alcohol or the constant threats he kept on getting from his gang or other gangs, but the nights always went to fast to be able to spend with her. One night he’s reached a corner his gang is pissed at him and other gangs want him dead, Everyone. Wants. Him. Dead. So on natural instinct he runs to the bar drunk out of his mind and looks around for a single person to help. And he finds her he begs her and pleads to stay with him when everyone else left him he talks about the gangs and she gets panicked, and in a attempt to get away from the situation she punched him breaking his nose. She tells him “don’t ever talk to me until you have your shit together.” And leaves. He lays there in an empty bar with the whole world wanting him dead. “Well fuck it.” Is hes gonna die he might aswell do it in style so he drinks and drinks taking the drinks from behind the bars and drinks his woes away. He goes out onto the curb and laughing and staring up at the stars, it’s the best he’s felt his whole life. till he looks down at a street lamp. And there he sees his own desecrated corpse. It scared him straight. We’re he wakes up still on the curb and he decides to get himself together. He sells his apartment, moves to a whole nother place, goes to rehab, tries to find work but no place is gonna openly hire a maybe unstable recovering alcoholic, but there’s one. Pony express. Not the best pay but it was something so be got the job as a mechanic, all those years of fixing his motorcycle paid off a damn he was a good mechanic. So a couple years pass and one day at the grocery store he’s picking up things for his next haul and someone bumps into him. Ducky. They’re awkward for a minute but ducky nervously says “sorry about your nose.” As she points to his crooked nose, as they stand there for a minute before they both burst out laughing asking how eachother have been and she looks at him like he’s really changed. So they meet up once a week like normal but this time they choose parks, or restaurants and eventually they start dating and then there engaged, and then there married, as there tiny love for eachother transformed into a family of two daughters and a dog. Him and ducky have been thinking of retirement hell he’s about to be 64. But he doesn’t know, he doesn’t feel fulfilled in anything he’s done maybe he’s being selfish but the one time he’s felt alive was when he was on the curb, drunk dancing singing. He’ll shrug it off and leave it for another day as he says bye to ducky and gets on the space shuttle for another shipment for pony express. He’ll think about it more when he gets back……
#swansea mouthwashing#mouthwashing#maybe delete later#maybe i’ll write it#pony express#i should go to bed
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here is to the sebchal girl!charles wag fic i never wrote (760 words, warning for angst and mentions of blood and miscarriages)
The splash of cold water against her face is a welcome relief. She’s been sitting in the bathroom floor for fifteen minutes, hoping the rush of blood to her head would fade sooner than later. The headache feels a bit numbing at this point, like it will always be there, a meddling friend in these trying times.
It is almost a welcome relief, too, that the stick she holds up to the light has only one little line. She can take these fertility issues, but another miscarriage would kill her, if not in the body, then in the soul.
Toilet paper wrapped around the test, the trash can closing loudly, a sigh. Quiet, at last.
As soon as the door clicks, Sebastian raises his head from the magazine he’d been flipping through, clearly trying to keep himself busy. He’s letting his hair grow again, his beard is a bit messy, and his heart is a bit bunched up to the left, meeting an apex Charles cannot hope to be a part of if things keep going like this. Charles takes a deep breath, shakes her head no and tries to put on a plaster smile. If Sebastian’s sympathetic face tells her something is that she’s failing miserably at pretending this is all going well.
“Oh, well,” he says, sounding rather unconvinced, “let’s go out for a drink, sounds good?”
Charles nods, smiles for real now and heads to the walk in closet, narrowly missing the look of haunted sadness that floats in Sebastian’s face. It’s been three years now, they can move on, they can keep going.
-
The first time she thought of a divorce was in the little dusty room her brother calls a ‘my trophy room’. There is a wall lined floor to ceiling with shelves filled with helmets. Some his own, she can spot the one he was wearing that warm summer he became a Formula 3 champion, and some foreign. Sebastian’s 2017 Monza Grand Prix helmet, coated in dust that shimmers lightly when she swatted her hand over the cavallino rampante in the side, is the only one she ever feels sad he didn’t keep for himself.
Or she used to, anyway. More recently the thing's become a symbol of better times, better days.
Monza’s woes and throes and the first time they laid eyes on one another, the sister of a Ferrari Driver Academy star and the man leading the F1 championship in red. A recently divorced champion meets a girl with a knack for picking lost causes to try and workshop into humans. It was only meant to be a night or two of fun.
It became a wedding in Trieste a year later and a house with two dogs in the Swiss mountains just a few months after that. And packing a bag she never got to fully take apart, working from a laptop in a crowded hospitality or ignoring the world in the hotel room Sebastian turned into a loving nest at least for a few nights.
She stepped back from the helmet, takes a sip of the yogurt she had poured in a tall champagne glass just to feel like she was drinking something strong and walks away, hoping things would be different, hoping she didn’t know her mother has a lawyer in her on her address book next to the guy that used to be their tennis coach. It’d be funny, any other day, to know that, if she didn’t find it all too alluring, all too tempting.
Sebastian retired at the end of the 2022 season and in the rueful cruel fate that awaited them, she didn’t imagine he’d be so disappointed she couldn’t bear him a child. It’s not the end of the world, he said after the hospital visit, when she was crying with a pillow pressed so hard against her face she was damn near smothering herself, we can try again another time, it’s fine, you are fine.
“We can try another time”. Charles wanted to wrap her hands around his neck and scream 'I just ripped my body open and bled for hours and you want me to try again!' No sympathy, no peace, just we'll try for a baby another time and if it rips your body to shreds then oh well!
Charles pulls on the green sequin dress she wore the day Sebastian was first introduced as an Aston Martin driver and kisses him on the cheek when he opens the door of the car, an electric SUV he's been yapping about for months, and tries not to think about the way his eyes lingered on a stranger girl walking across the street.
It was meant to be a night or two of fun and now it's bleeding raw over her lap, like the car he could never get championship with.
#goosefiction#<- new tag bc it's funny to me#sebchal#girl charles fest i would have been so unhinged for you if i had time/health to do so#ok bye just wanted to share this <3
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abandoned love- jim hopper
CHAPTER ONE ( new moon on monday )
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌, was silent.
"Any clue on where Will could be?"
A tall figure stood before her , hunched over and examining a pile of papers. His back to her. The voice flew to his ears but his mood contorted the pleasant sound into a painful screeching one- not wishing to have company at this moment after the following incidents.
"That's none of your business young lady," all the man did was huff, his lips aching for the sweltering sensation of a non-filtered camel. In a slow effort, he turned around to greet himself with the comely appearance of the eldest Henderson.
Slickened, rowdy strands of golden tresses draped down a lined back, straight and complemented by a mature posture. They cascaded down the striped magenta shirt, blurring into one woven river of cool honey. Feet planted firmly on the ground, her eyes commanded attention, her palms out and prickled with trustworthiness. For a brief second her lips parted, showing the two teeth that back in her day, helped fabricate a rumor that she was a bunny. The bunny that he once referred to as “from hell”.
His voice trickled down the vents of the room, becoming only a distant and passing sound, "You got anything to say kid?"
She shook her head, eyes slightly narrowing as she continued to set her sight onto him, and gently a scoff blew from the edge of her lips, "Kid? I'm twenty now, Jim. Wouldn't say I'm a kid."
He studied her in the brief minutes of time he was given before his stares would be interpreted as chilling, "Still look pretty pathetic to me."
There was no scent that reminded her of home, only phrases that sparked a memory of home. In the three years of which she had spent her days partying, drinking, flourishing on the slippery wood on yachts owned by the wealthy- she kept the distant memories of Hawkins in the darkest space of her disorganized mind. Frankly, she hid them.
Rolling those jade eyes, she propped herself onto the nearest, unoccupied desk. Bare legs swung back and forth, lips smacked as she watched him. Watched him fuel with irritation before huffing, deeply sighing then trailing back to a huff, "Get out Henderson."
His voice resounds through the room, her still being the topic of his pessimistic wishes. The room is silent afterwards, except of course for the sound of once-young swinging by her two crossed legs, and the irregular clam of her palm shifting against the sweating wood.
-ˋˏ ༻🍂༺ ˎˊ-
She could have stayed, if she truly wanted to. But meatloaf called for her, swarmed her sinuses and dragged her along out the door. Off of the unoccupied desk.
She had no clock , but the time of 5:55 had become embedded in her mind. He promised, to pick her up here, at 5:55, and due to all those times, it was now a self conscious remembrance. Her limbs would ache, heart would tremble as she remembered the feeling of 5:55. The feeling that overwhelmed her, could be mistaken for dread, but it could only be described as anxiousness.
There was a certain amount of excitement entangled within the fear that he might be different than what she could remember. She took the kid in as her own, back in the days of when he was a freshman and she was a senior.
The blonde referred to the 'king' as her son, teaching him the way around high-school while providing him with another view that didn't have the sights of his friends littering it.
But, luckily for her the excitement doused worries came to an end once his car pulled up, and he flashed an equally excited at her, "Winny, bow to the king."
It was cheesy, it seemed out of character by what she knew about him from before but just to nourish the need he recently felt for appreciation and control, she provided an effort-lacking bow.
"King, really? What, do you go by King Steve now?" she rolled her eyes, a playful manner though of course. Those worries from before faded and she hoped into the passenger seat, not listening completely to his woes and warnings about being careful with the seat.
In her defense, nothing was damaged.
A proud smile graced his lips while his foot reassigned itself to the gas, "C'mon, you know it suits me,"
Even if there were signs now of an inflated ego, she shook her head, blowing a raspberry into the air before lifting her head and to his dread, ruffling up the gelled, stiff feathers he called a mane.
"I don't think so pipsqueak, you're still a wee little freshman to me."
That was a moment of horror for him, but in her presence he let it slide. Maybe, he was a pipsqueak, but being brought down to Earth wouldn't be enough to deflate an ego already inflated heavily.
He paused before speaking again. As if there were piles of questions to pick through and chose, voicing to her, "Out of all places, you wanted to go see Hopper on your first day back, why is that?"
"Well, a little birdie told me Jim visited Dust-a-roo during school, I got curious but soon got distracted by asking about Will."
She stared ahead, the emptiness of a paved street sedating her alone in that moment, "He's still such an ass though, don't you think?"
The Harrington boy could only nod, a small chuckle coming from his chapped lips- courtesy of the bitter air- "Chief has always been an ass, you kidding me? And he won't ever change."
The two shared a laugh simply at that. Simple, bland, teenage and young adult humor.
#stranger things smut#stranger things#steve harrington#jim hopper smut#jim hopper#stranger things x reader#stranger things fanfiction#st fanfic
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ok so hello people of tumblr. who wants to know what happened since i last regularly posted here????
i became friends with this girl at work i was loooowkey crushing on, we became too close way too quickly. she confided in me a month and a half into out friendship how she had a crush on a***d which caused her a sexuality crisis bc she was convinced she was gay until then. i felt weird but loved her too much to let something silly like this ruin the friendship. he started hanging out with us, i felt real fucking baaaaaad. life situations led me into telling a***d i liked him for ages. he said we're too good friends to ruin it, we're beyond that point! if i had said something earlier then maybe! then i found out he liked her!!! but he decided because of me he would stop talking to her!! i was living thru insanity bc of it. then me and him spent a month and a half being friends but also more than friends? but also "it's just good friends it's nothing romantic bc i said i don't feel the same i don't wanna ruin it you're one of the utmost important people in my life up there with my childhood friends blahblah" and we cuddled and hugged every time we met, texted every day after work until late at night, went thru a kissing/making out one evening after drinking a lot of alcohol drama. he initiated all of this!!! always!! i was in this weird grey area and thought everything is Fine because i know it's not a good idea
then almost a month ago he decided to ask her out! he didn't tell me in advance (despite the fact i told him if you ever choose to act about your feelings just say so). she did not tell me about it despite me being transparent with her all along, and despite telling me she thinks friendship is more important than all of this. so this went on for a week and a half, without me being told, whilst i was feeling weird asf and convincing myself i'm going crazy because of my anxiety bc everything was Normal. and then i found out thursday march 28th (haha a month ago exactly.. what a coincidence) because we were together and he said he can't wait for a "right time" like she wanted to. all of life collapsed from the feeling of betrayal from and anger at both of them. first i hated her, now i realised i hate him because he was at fault for all this messed up shit and took zero responsibility the one time we talked. i gave 2 of them chances to talk as some closure and we haven't spoken since. i truly hate him and think he's a shit person.
took a whole week off work after that first happened. was depressed at home. one day i decided to dress nicely and go meet my friend who just came back from abroad at the city of christ..... told her everything. then she took me to see a cool hostel i'd like bc it's in an ancient building. guy who works there studied with us but i didn't remember him lol. we talked & had wine then i got tipsy i overshared everything. he was the most charming and cute person i met.... (& a proper proper leftist too). we spent 3 hours there with him despite my friend wanting to kill me bc that WASN'T the plan. he was overly friendly, had a very interesting vibe.. esp abt the situation... then he told me how he's going abroad the next day and perhaps is gonna break up with his ldr gf... we sat together whilst my friend was in another room/on the side on her phone (I APOLOGISED PROFOUNDLY) and he even showed me pics of him from the gym... my biggest regret is when we left, had food with my friend and just got on the bus, he texted me on ig that i should come back to say bye again.. i didnt... then he came back from abroad last week and sort of said if i got the time i should come visit.. so of ci did lol but the Vibe was gone (as like... he didnt break up with the gf and therefore there was no vibe & i was fine with it lol). he asked me if i want him to teach me how to fight and i said yeah so besides updating him again on my woes we also literally fought with each other which was fucking fun. like he was properly teaching me what to do in a fight. i'm still feeling sore (that was 2 days ago) he is so cool and i wanna be his friend now that i am not cr*shing on him...
besides that life is still grim and i am going back to work in a day and gonna have to see those 2 people who ruined my life again aaaaand i know my mental health will take a dive. what do you even do when this shit happens
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Keep Away From The Edge
Chapter 2
Read Part one here: Part 1
Pairing: Mark Hoffman X Emmy Hodges
Recovering, Hint of Panic Attack, Crying, Not Comfort, Drinking, Nightmares
(You can also read it here! Keep Away From The Edge)
Emmy only stayed at the hospital for another day before they decided she was well enough to head home.
Well enough was of course relative. Emmy wasn't sure she'd ever be well enough again, but she wasn't in any danger of dying from her wounds. They'd monitored her to make sure she didn't spike a fever, and released her with scripts for painkillers and an antibiotic.
"If you start to feel like you have a fever, please come back." Her nurse, Betty, had explained. Betty handed her the clothes she had arrived in, which had been washed as thoroughly as they could be, but still had slashes from the glass. Emmy winced at the sight of them.
"Is there anything else I can wear out of here?" She asked. The idea of putting the clothes she had suffered in back on made her skin crawl. These garments were fated for a fire when she got home, most likely. "Also…did you find a tape recorder with my things?" Emmy didn't know why she was worried about that thing in particular. The memory of sticking it in her back pocket was already becoming hazy.
"I think we may have some sweat pants and t-shirts we can send you home in." Betty looked uneasy at her second question. "I'm not sure about the tape recorder. I would guess that the police probably took anything like that as evidence."
Emmy thought about the detective's business card that still sat on the bedside table. She imagined herself calling him up, demanding to have her tape recorder back. It was hers. She'd earned it. "My wallet and cell phone are gone too?"
Betty just shrugged, looking very apologetic. "I didn't see anything besides your clothes."
Emmy drew in a long, labored breath. "Can you still see about those clothes?"
Betty gave her a small smile and a nod, leaving her to find something for her to wear. Emmy was grateful, but soon how she was even going to make it home crossed her mind. She lived across town, and with no wallet she couldn't get a taxi. She had no family left and the few friends she had were states away. She had one friend that did live close by, but Emmy also didn't feel like she had the strength to explain what had happened to her again…not yet anyway.
Her eyes wandered over to the business card again. 'Detective Mark Hoffman' in bold black letters above his phone and fax number. Surely he was far too busy to humor Emmy's woes. Maybe she'd just see if one of the nurses could give her just enough for bus fair. Then she thought about being crammed in a tight space with strangers, unfamiliar faces, any of which could be the person who had taken her.
Her hand yanked the room phone off the receiver and she was dialing his number before she could think any further about it. By the third ring she was starting to get cold feet, her hand on the receiver getting tense, ready to slam it down after another unanswered ring.
"Detective Hoffman."
Great he'd answered and now she had no idea what she was even going to say. What had she even needed in the first place? Her wallet?
"Hello?"
"H-hi." Emmy forced the word out. "It-it's Emmory, Emmory Hodges?"
"Yes." Hoffman's voice pitched up in recognition. "Did you remember something?"
"W-well not exactly."
Mark listened to her plight. "You don't have any family who can help you out?" Of course Mark knew she didn't, but asking was a part of the script, part of the act he had to keep up as the detective who hadn't been following her around for weeks. He knew her routine very well, and it wasn't very exciting. It looked much like his had, before John. Work, bar, home. Only to be repeated day after day. Both of her parents had passed away, and there were no siblings that he knew of. And she certainly didn't spend time with friends. At least not often.
"No, and without my wallet I can't get a cab." Emmory said.
Mark looked over at her possessions he had taken when he'd grabbed her. Just a cellphone and wallet. He'd added the tape recorder she'd put in her pocket before dropping her off. Just three lonely items sitting on a cluttered desk in the crowded warehouse he was currently using as a home base. Mark checked his watch for the time. He should probably head into the station soon anyway.
"I can swing by the hospital, and I think I can return your wallet and cell to you."
"That would be great." Emmory's voice brightened. Just a little. "Then I could pay a cab. I don't mean to be a bother."
Hoffman smiled at that. He wasn't exactly sure why.
"O-oh there was one other thing." She sounded unsure again. "There was a tape recorder in my back pocket. Did the police retrieve it? If so…I would like it back too."
"You want your test tape back?" Now Mark was truly confused.
"Y-yeah. I made it all the way through with it in my back pocket and I…I just want it."
Mark chewed the inside of his lip. On one hand he didn't see much harm in returning it to her. He could wipe it for all prints, and it was one John had prerecorded. But what she wanted with it was a mystery, and Mark didn't like mysteries.
"I'll see what I can do." He answered. He heard a whoosh of air on the other line.
"O-okay. I'll see you soon?"
"Yes." Mark was already standing and grabbing his coat. "I'll be there soon." She hung up and Hoffman snapped his cell closed. He stood over her things, cell, wallet, and tape recorder, still debating on whether just giving her the thing was a problem or not. Then he had to stand there and consider why he was even humoring the request. He should just tell her he couldn't get that particular thing out of evidence. She'd believe it.
He pulled on his leather gloves and shoved all three items into his coat pockets.
At the hospital she was waiting for him at the nurses station just outside her room, which was currently being turned down and sanitized for the next patient. Emmory was wearing a shirt that looked to be two sizes too big, and a pair of sweatpants that were synced around her waist. They looked like they were as big as the shirt. In her left hand was a plastic bag with what looked like her old clothes.
Her eyes landed on him as soon as he exited the elevator. They almost pinned him still in the spot. They were such an intense shade of corn flower blue, a little unsettling if he was honest. Mark kept his feet moving, procuring her wallet and phone from his pocket. For now he left the tape recorder where it was, not exactly keen on revealing it in front of all the nurses there. She grinned as he handed them to her, opening her wallet to make sure everything was still there.
"Wow, they didn't take anything." Relief was obvious in her voice. Next she tried the phone, but the battery had long since died. She put both things in the pocket of her much too big sweatpants. "Thank you again…and the other thing?"
Of course she'd ask. Mark tilted his head toward the elevator. "Let me walk you out." She followed without further comment, looking absent again. When the elevator doors closed he produced the tape recorder. "Here, but it's our little secret."
She took it with wide, almost reverent eyes. He told himself he was giving it to her to gain more of her trust. The more she trusted him the easier his life would be down the line. Her thumb hovered over the play button, and Mark put a hand over it.
"Maybe don't listen to it. Not so soon after anyway." Was she trying to traumatize herself further? Thankfully she listened to him, putting it with her phone and wallet. The rest of their ride down was silent.
On the ground floor the elevator doors opened up to pure chaos. In the short time it took him to get here and their elevator ride down, the press had learned Emmory was being discharged today, and were not swarming the front doors. Emmory stopped dead, watching the reporters shout at her through the doors. Apparently the hospital staff had shut off the automatic sensors and locked the doors.
"Oh…" Emmory said, her hand fisting itself into her oversized shirt. "How am I going to get a cab?"
She wasn't, not without going through that throng. The two of them were far enough back that the crowd hadn't noticed them, and Emmory was already taking a step back.
"We go back to plan A." Mark said simply, tapping her elbow. "I take you home. Come on. I parked in the parking garage. We can go out the back way."
She looked up at him with those wide blue eyes again. "Okay."
Escaping the press was relatively easy. At least it seemed that way to Emmy. She supposed the detective was probably used to maneuvers like this. Emmy tried to covertly take the man in properly from his passenger seat, being fully conscious for the first time in days.
Objectively he was handsome. The first thing that had stood out to her was his eyes, blue like hers, but riddled with emotions she could not even begin to decipher. Then his lips, they were so full it seemed like a crime. His hair was a dark brown and combed carefully. Clean shaven face and a build that was just…solid. He wasn't exceptionally tall, but he was…well thick. He looked like her might be a little soft in some areas, the way older men sometimes were.
"So, where am I taking you?"
Emmy started sharply. Right, he needed to know where she lived. "I'm just outside of the city. 1428 Summers Ave." She gave him directions on how to get to her place, although once she said the street name Hoffman had nodded. He probably knew every street name in a ten mile radius of the city.
There was still something, at the back of her mind, bugging her. Like an itch she just couldn't reach.
"You seem to be handling everything very well." Hoffman said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.
"Oh…well…" truth be told she hadn't really let herself stop to think about it. She'd either been sleeping or trying to figure out how she was going to get home. "It hasn't, I guess, occurred to me yet?"
Hoffman was quiet for several moments, then he nodded. "It could still be shock. Hasn't sunk in yet." They were out of the city now. Her stop wasn't very far from here.
Emmy tried to think about that. It wouldn't do her any good to ignore it. Was it just that she was so thankful to be alive? She didn't really think so. Yes she was happy she didn't die, but now she was going to be covered in scars, and probably have some bad nightmares to boot. Would she just go about like it didn't happen? Why hadn't she cried yet? Emmy thought the not crying thing was probably the weirdest part. Then again she'd heard stories of emotions so great they were beyond tears. Maybe that's what she was experiencing?
"Hey, you get lost in there?" They were stopped at a red light, and Hoffman had taken the opportunity to look at her, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at her face, which was pointing down to her lap.
She blinked slowly, coming back to the present painfully. Her throat was closing and she suddenly couldn't be home soon enough. She turned her head to the window, swallowing hard. "I'm fine."
He left her alone for the rest of the ride. When he pulled up in front of her house Emmy turned back to him. "Thank you. You really saved me."
Hoffman smiled and something flickered in his eyes. "Hey, it wasn't any trouble."
Emmy tried to smile at him as she left the car. It felt off, and she hoped she wasn't actually grimacing at him. Once she closed the door behind her everything hit her like a wave crashing over her. Her back fell against the door and she slid down until she was holding her knees and shaking. It was then, when she was finally all alone for the first time in a few days, that the tears came. They rolled down her face fat and hot. Now Emmy could really feel the ache all over her body, how the deeper cuts hurt.
A sob bubbled out of her chest, which started a torrent of more sobbing. She sat there, on the floor with her back to her front door, and cried for what felt like hours. She cried until she just couldn't anymore. She was still heaving sobs, but her cheeks had long dried. Eventually she got too tired to even make noise, so she subsided to whimpers, then silence. Just sat there with her chin on her knees, staring at the hard wood floor of her living room.
How was she meant to just keep going after what had happened to her? The point of the test was to teach her to appreciate being alive, but now all she could think about was how she was going to go about things as usual when she had nearly been another deceased victim of the Jigsaw killer. Now she was one of his lucky survivors. She was supposed to just put that all behind her? In the moment that seemed impossible. Like she'd never be able to move on. Logically she knew she eventually would, probably with plenty of nightmares, and the scars to remind her every day, but down the road it really would become just a memory.
Being back in her home just threw into sharp relief how wrong it felt. To be back here, safe in her house, when only a few days ago she may never have seen it again. It was beyond her comprehension. And her job…oh God she'd have to go back to work. That alone suddenly seemed like a monumental hill to climb. Did her boss even know what had happened to her? She hadn't called him yet, but she'd have to go back to work eventually. Trauma didn't make the bills go away. Emmy sniffed at that. It felt cruel that the earth kept on spinning.
Her ass really started to hurt from sitting on the hardwood floor, and her back was getting stiff, so she got back to her feet. She walked into the kitchen, which was just a step out of the living room in an open floor plan. Her phone charger was on the kitchen island so she plugged her phone in and set it down there to charge. She took the tape recorder out too, setting it next to her phone. It still had her dried blood on it. She hadn't noticed that before. She went back to retrieve the plastic bag she had been holding that held her old clothes. She chucked it into the trash on her way to her office.
Her office was down the hall off of the living room. Really she just wanted to go into her bedroom and collapse on the bed, pretend she didn't have to actually exist for one more day, but she thought it would be better to check in sooner rather than later, and she was sure her email was full to bursting by now. Mainly she wanted to email her boss and make sure she did indeed still have a job. That would really just be the cherry on top, having to job hunt after everything. Her email was full, most of it was spam and chain emails. Some were from her boss, wondering where she was, and worried. Emmy sent a way too brief email explaining what had happened and letting him know she'd be back again on Monday. She hadn't realized what day it was until she sat down. Thursday. For some reason the fact that the Jigsaw killer took her in the middle of the week really stuck with her.
Wonder if he has a 9 to 5 schedule.
She received an email back within a few minutes. It was the middle of the day and he was probably sitting right at his desk. Her heart thumped opening the email, expecting him to say that she'd been terminated. But no, he was relieved she was alive, if not okay, and that she could take more time if she needed to. Emmy replied back her thanks, but that she'd be in on Monday. She thought returning back to routine is what they always said you should do. Keep yourself busy and all that.
Now all she had to do was turn on her phone and see who had tried to contact her.
The precinct was abuzz as it always was. Kerry cornered him as soon as he walked through the door to ask him about the latest survivor.
"Did she have anything new?"
Mark could have rolled his eyes. "You read the notes. She saw as little as the others."
Kerry followed him all the way to his office, filled with way too much energy. "I want to bring her back in. After recovering she may remember more details.
Real irritation flared in Mark's chest this time and he rounded on her, his hand gripping the door handle. "Jesus, Kerry, give the woman a few days at least. She's going to have enough trouble adjusting."
He watched as shame flickered through her eyes. Mark wanted to sneer openly in her face. You forgot she was human for a moment there didn't you? All you could think about was that she lived through what you are studying. He could have sympathized with Kerry at one point, not so much now. Maybe some of that was his own fault. The work he did with John seeping unto his very marrow. Had he once just wanted to put bad guys away? He thought so. Now he was beholden to a dying old man who swore there was a better way.
"We can give her a week, but I do think it's important we question her again. It's standard."
It was. People tended to remember details after a period of time. Not that Mark thought Emmory would magically remember anything important. Well he knew she wouldn't. His only reply was a grunt as he opened his office door. A clear sign that this conversation was over. Mark sat down in his chair with a groan. He had plenty to do, or pretend to do. That day he had the request John made of him to fulfill, and he had a lot of work ahead of him.
Mark worked well into the evening, eventually checking his watch and seeing it had gotten quite late. He’d made some good headway. He’d call John and update him once he got out to his car. He wanted to drive by Emmory’s place, just to check in. Not that he expected he’d see much, but it was worth a look to see if she were home, or back at her favorite bar.
All was quiet at the Hodges House. The lights were out, and the car was in the driveway, which didn’t mean much. The little hole in the wall Emmory frequented was only a couple of blocks away, and he knew she was prone to walking there. They couldn’t take your keys if you didn’t drive.
So Hoffman made his way to the bar. It was a small place with a weird name, Lavender Tavern Syndrome. It was a step above a dive bar, and seemed to be video game themed. There were arcade cabinets along one wall and a few of the tables themselves were arcade machines, with a screen under the glass tabletop. Hoffman wondered if this place was Emmory’s favorite because of the theme, or because it was so close. He also thought they’d probably do better business deeper into the city, but they seemed to be doing well enough. There was no sign of Emmory here either, so hopefully she was at home in bed.
Mark ordered a drink, not wanting to look more suspicious than he already did in his cheap suit. The bartender was very welcoming, taking his drink order with a smile and producing it quickly. Definitely a far cry from the bars Mark had been used to in his heavy drinking days. He’d finish his one drink, then head home for the night. Maybe he’d swing by in the morning to see if there was any change. He didn’t think Emmory would be open to joining them, he wasn’t sure if she had the fortitude…
And maybe he didn’t want her to be. John’s cult didn’t need to grow any bigger. Mark could guess that John would eventually want to talk to Emmory, see how she took his ‘rehabilitation’, but Mark would leave that up to his discretion when he returned from Mexico. Mark wasn’t ready to out himself to her anytime soon.
Emmy tossed and turned in her bed, a sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. The nightmares had come, memories of broken glass and how hot her blood had felt oozing out of a fresh cut. Shards grinding against the bones in her knuckles. In her nightmares she could have sworn there were still pieces inside of her, burrowing deeper under her skin.
Then, at the very end, when she got to the light at the end of the tunnel, a voice. It was deep, resonating in her chest.
Congratulations. You made it.
@grxmreaperx
#mark hoffman#saw 2004#sawposting#saw franchise#saw movies#saw x#mark hoffman x oc#Mark Hoffman x Emmory Hodges#Keep Away From The Edge
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