#your morning service from El

[hogans-heroes]

[maiiruo]

soft sex with ellie williams ! credits to whoever came up with the idea that ellie would hate gloss on herself but love it on you. modern au

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა⋆｡°✩ellie was always rough. as a result of jealousy from that one guy at a cafe who was supposedly staring at your ass, her words, and her extreme sadism. she loved seeing you all teary eyed when she was finished with you, knowing you probably wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.

ellie was feeling more romantic than usual, bringing back your favourite flowers from one of the stores on the way back from her morning jogs. you very rarely received flowers, not because ellie decided not to get you any but because they were so hard to take care of, in your opinion. this time, she bought u pink lilies that you almost mistook for being real. you secretly thanked whatever gods existed that they were fake—you could keep them forever.

“…are they okay?” you didn’t notice you had been staring and ellie was panicking, her body becoming restless and starting to fidget with the promise ring she kept on her right ring finger. her words snapped you back into reality and you practically threw yourself at her, the residue of your gloss and lipliner staining her face as you suffocated her in kisses. she always hated wearing gloss herself, yet the feeling of yours on her face never failed to leave her cheeks all rosy. she would walk around with your lips plastered on her cheeks if you didn’t make her wipe it off beforehand.

ellie took the flowers off your hands before they got ruined in the midst of your slightly aggressive love for her, placing them on the bedside table on your side of the bed. she returned the favour and placed kisses on your cheeks, your forehead, god even your nose, both your giggles filling the air. she finally ended her kissing frenzy by meeting your lips with hers, your scents revelling in each other. her hands found their way to your waist, holding you so gently you could mistake it as a breath.

her lips travelled further down your body, your neck to your chest, to your thighs that she probably loved more than you at this point. before she asked to be your girlfriend, you always caught her staring at your thighs in shorts, skirts, occasionally in your baggy jeans—eventually her favourite place to sit became between your thighs. you swore you would kill her like that one day but she didn’t seem to care.

she knew how sensitive your inner thighs were and when she kissed you there? you didn’t even try to hold back. although she loved to tease you, she was taking her time while giving you what you wanted like a host at your service. “els…come on, i can’t take this.”

“yes ma’am.” she giggled as she said this, knowing you liked it when she acted all obedient despite having the chance to have her way with you whenever she pleased. she slowly but intensely dragged her tongue across your slit, moaning deeply while her low eyes looked up at you. the air was soft and calm with the only noise being the occasional giggles and low, sensual moans. her hands wandered back to your thighs, grabbing and squeezing while the vibrations of her voice reverberated against your heat. something about ellie being so soft was intoxicating. “ellie..wanna cum, please.” her tongue lapped against your cunt faster, the sound of your slick filling her ears. she held your hand as your hips bucked against her mouth and your legs tightened around her head—you did say you swore you would kill her like that one day. she laughed in a low voice, still swallowing your sweetness and letting you know how good you tasted. how she could apparently live off of you alone. ‘100% pussy diet’ she called it.

she got up from between your legs to kiss your nose and dragged her fingers along your pussy, licking your slick off just to get another taste of you. she reached into the bedside table to put her strap on, keeping eye contact with you as she did. you always thought she looked so pretty getting herself all ready for you, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail and a few strands that would soon stick to her damp face. completely contrasting her usual roughness, she held her cock up to your entrance with her eyes on yours, waiting for your okay. you nodded with a smile and she slowly eased herself in, so slow it was almost painful. you watched as her eyes struggled to find somewhere to rest on, flittering between your eyes, your lips, your boobs and, of course, your thighs. she leaned over to place kisses on your chest, leaving dark marks over your skin only for her eyes. her breath hitched, slowly turning to soft moans and leaning over you so her skin was touching yours. she was warm and heavy on top of you, her lips still wandering your body. ellie fit perfectly against your body. her stomach was flat on yours, her chest pressed against yours—there was so little space between the two of you that you might as well have fused into one being.

she picked up her pace yet her kisses remained soft and calm, your head becoming fuzzy as the both of you rode out your orgasm. her moans were louder and her strokes became sloppy, practically losing control over how good you felt around her, how gorgeous you looked when she showed you how much she loved you. she reached for your hand once again as you reached your shared climax and your thighs tightened around her waist, her knuckles turning white from how hard she was holding you. the air was filled with i love yous and you’re so perfects and you left a layer of your cum around her cock.

“fuuuck…you’re so pretty, i love you. so, so much.”

you giggled shyly, “i love you more, els.”

this took so long to finish bc college is beating my ass. i don’t like it as much as i wish i did but i need to post something ! i haven’t proof read it so apologies for any mistakes :P

don’t steal, translate or repost my work

©maiiruo

[findafight]

Wait. Wait. Kinda part 2 to this post. For the angst of it all. Cw: implied and assumed homophobia

Because sure, after that dinner Joyce relents in not being, y'know, openly confused or frustrated with Steve being around. El obviously adores him and Jim is always glad when he comes around. Joyce can put up with Steve for them. But she's a stubborn woman, and somewhere in her mind, Steve is a Bad Egg. So she's still not 100% on board.

All this rears its head one night after a lot of their world saving group has had a movie night and ended up in a puddle on the floor. Steve is squished between Robin and Eddie, snuggled up all cozy. Joyce sees this when she quietly pads out of her bedroom to just. Check on the kids.

Eddie and Steve are sat up, Robin's face pressed against his hip. They're whispering something, heads leaned close. And they lean in further, silhouetted by the moonlight filtering in, and kiss. It's pretty chaste, though not a peck.

Joyce's blood boils. Steve has a girlfriend, he should not be going around kissing his friends like that, stringing them all along. She feels strangely vindicated, that her assumptions about Steve were right, that he wasn't actually a good guy or had changed at all. She almost yells at him then and there, but holds off. No need to wake everyone up. She can lecture him in the morning.

Once everyone is fed and lounging in the late morning, she pulls Steve out onto the porch.

"I saw you kiss Eddie last night" she says, without preamble. "And I cannot believe you would think behaviour like that is acceptable in my house."

Steve blinks, clenches his jaw. "Jo--Mrs Byers. I--"

"I don't want any of your excuses! It's despicable what you're doing, and I won't have it. For whatever reason, those kids look up to you. What kind of example are you setting for them? For El?" Steve's eyes widen, and if Joyce hadn't been so caught up with her anger she probably would have seen that instead of being ashamed or embarrassed, Steve is scared. "She looks up to you so much, though I can't imagine why. You need to clean yourself up, Steve. For real this time. You can't go around doing whatever you want. It's disgusting and disrespectful. Did you even consider the people you'd hurt? How doing shit like that would affect the lives of people who care about you? They deserve better than that." She shakes her head. Arms crossed. Steve is tense in front of her, but he doesn't say anything. To her, that's as good as confession. "Everyone talks about how you've worked hard to improve yourself, become a better person. But after last night? I just don't believe it. No one who's really changed, really a good person, would do what you did." She sighs. "You should probably leave now."

Steve nods stiffly. "Right. I'll. Uh, I leave. Can you...please, don't tell anyone, ma'am. I'll Grab my bag and I'll get outta your hair, but don't tell. I'm so sorry. Please." She purses her lips. His girlfriend deserves to know, but Joyce has no clue who that is (it might be the Robin girl attached to his hip, but she has no way of knowing). She nods once. Steve's shoulders slump.

Stepping back into the house, Steve quickly and jerkily snags his backpack from the corner it was shoved into before leaning over to whisper something in Robin's ear. The girl nods, looking worried.

He doesn't look at Eddie.

For a while, her house is Steve-free. Joyce breathes easy, hoping their talk was a wake-up call for steve. He is painfully polite when they bump into each other, Robin usually by his side with a strained customer service smile. Small talk is non-existent.

But then Will starts getting quieter. Maybe avoiding her. Certainly does his best to be small and doesn't look in her eyes. She has no idea what's going on, and she's worried.

What if the Upside Down came back? What if there's something wrong with her boy? What if everything they've fought for and sacrificed didn't mean anything and it's never actually over?

She tries to talk to him, but he shrugs her off, says he's fine and not to worry about it. Assures her it is definitely not the Upside Down.

Finally, after two weeks of Will looking absolutely miserable when he talks to her, she gets Jonathan to try. Tension around the house is high, Steve is barely around and always skitters away when he sees her, and in combination with will, it's out everyone on edge.

She doesn't mean to eavesdrop. But she doesn't not mean to either. It's just that they're on the porch, and she was in the kitchen and heard something, and when she went to see, she heard them talking.

"it's not--i want to tell you but it's not my secret to tell."

Jonathan sighs. "Will. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong. Please. Talk to me. I'll love you no matter what, you know that."

Will heaves a breath. "I had a talk with Steve --" and oh, the rage in Joyce's chest when she hears that. What did he say to her boy?? "And...uhg. fuck. Okay, you have to swear, swear! You're not going to tell anyone what I'm going to tell you. If you figure it out, because I don't. It's not mine to tell."

"okay. I swear. I won't go spilling Steve's secrets."

"you have to mean it, Jonathan. It's dangerous!"

There's ruffling fabric. Jonathan's voice is softer. "I promise."

"Steve said he was telling me because he thought we might be...similar. In some ways. And he talked about who he's dating. And that Hopper and El and Robin and Eddie know. And that they're all safe. Y'know? Like you are."

"okay..."

"and I said you were, and he said that was really good, and then emphasized that if I ever wanted like, and actual grown up to talk to, not just another teenager, Hopper was safe. But. The way he said it made it seem like...I don't know, but something was off? And I asked him." There's a pause. "I asked him if Mom knew. And he said yes. But he hadn't... Before that, he hadn't said she was safe. Jonathan..."

Something...wasn't adding up. Joyce was trying to puzzle what she wouldn't be safe to talk to about. She'd been in the tunnels and Upside Down and through it all. Her children, and by extension the children that had helped save them, were always safe in her house. To come to her if they felt unsafe. Why Steve would tell her own son she wasn't --

Will continued. "Steve said that it'd probably be different because I'm her kid, y'know? She--she did all this stuff to get me back and to keep me safe and loves me. So she could. So she'd maybe change her mind. For me."

"Will..." Jonathan's voice sounds pained.

"but what if she's not? What if that's where it ends? Shell save me from a demogorgon but not love me for this. Steve's saved my friends half a dozen times, Jonathan! He got--he got tortured" that is not something Joyce knew. When the hell did that happen? "with Robin to protect Dustin and Erica, Billy beat him half to death when he stepped in to protect Lucas and Max! He's good! I'm not as close to him as the others but he still told me. He trusted me enough with a secret that I can't even say outloud about myself yet! And Mom still-" will hiccups, and Joyce wishes she knew what he was talking about. Wishes he was saying these things to her, so she could comfort him.

Heaving a breath, Will is quieter. "Steve's the reason no one's died. He's El's first brother. And she still called him disgusting for-- for kissing someone he loves."

Ice fills Joyce's veins, a heavy pit balls in her stomach. Because that's not--she didn't--it wasn't like that.

But Steve had begged her not to tell anyone. Had stood still and not tried to justify anything and called her ma'am when he asked her not to tell. Held himself still when she was around and bolted at the first possible opportunity, leaving disappointed people in his wake. Oh, shit. Oh, she's fucked up so badly. Hurt some kid because she was suspicious of him from over three years ago and assumed the worst. Instead of realizing that maybe the reason he and his girlfriend were keeping it quiet was because he didn't have a girlfriend at all, and that the boy he kissed that night was his boyfriend, she had just assumed he was cheating. And then she'd told him he was disappointing and disgusting and a bad influence on the kids. Even after, he still made sure Will knew there were safe people around, that he'd have someone to talk to. And all she'd done was make him scared of her.

"oh, buddy."

Will's voice is muffled, and Jonathan has probably pulled him into a hug. It cracks when he speaks. "how can she say that about Steve but still love me? When so much of this shit's been my fault?"

"none of this is your fault. Don't believe that, will. No one blames you or El for any of it. You know that, right?"

"okay..."

"it's true. And as for mom...I don't know." Jonathan huffs "I'm not sure. I'm sorry, buddy."

Joyce turns then, feeling sick. She shouldn't have eavesdropped on her children, but now she had she was going to make things right. Hopefully.

Ensure everyone, including Steve, knew she was safe.

Part 3

[chelseeebe]

menswear.

been wanting to write a menswear inspired lil ficcy for sooo so long n to celebrate the fact that i will finally hear it live after 9 years i thought this was a great time

a/n: i just wanna write a disclaimer that i am british and tend to britain-ise my writing so if it seems off for an american wedding don’t bite me x it’s ovulation week which is the only way i can explain this if i’m honest

summary: meeting steve at an old friend’s wedding could really only lead to one thing, couldn’t it?

18+. smut. alcohol and drug use. steve is a mess. no use of y/n!

steve’s still drunk from the night before, his tie crooked and one of the buttons on his shirt is uneven. he looked even more disheveled than he felt.

he hadn’t been keen on the idea of going to the wedding of his ex girlfriend and the man who essentially took her from him. not that he blames jonathan of course, he wasn’t exactly the gold standard boyfriend. he had his faults and would quite happily admit to them.

but still, it was confusing and weird and he’d tried to get out of it but robin had quite frankly insisted that he be there or else he was a terrible person.

so, as all sensible people would, he got absolutely fucking blasted the night before. he hadn’t meant to get so drunk but catching up with old friends and the kids he once looked after, had lead to him being carried off to his room by his best friend who was mumbling a bunch of profanities under her breath.

he still stank of booze, christ even he could smell it. it lingered on his body despite the twenty minute cold shower he had forced himself through this morning. there had been an attempt to style his hair but it mostly hung around his face in limp strands.

did you know the best way to beat a hangover is to keep drinking? hair of the dog and that. at least, that’s what he was telling himself. nursing a double whisky at the hotel bar at stupid o’clock this morning.

he didn’t have robin to hang off today, left to his own devices as she’d been recruited into the bridal party. her one track mind focussed on nancy and not her absolute failure of a best friend.

the venue was nice, a tad unorthodox and not where he’d choose to get married but it fit the strange pairing in a nice way. slinking up the cold stone of the aisle, trying to find his reserved seat among the crowds of people.

max pulls him into one of the rows, shoving him down on the empty seat with a small scowl on her face. she’d seen him struggling from her seat and had so graciously gone to help the poor man.

‘thanks.. max,’ he groans, nodding at the girl a she settles into his seat, honestly just hoping that the service would go quick so he could resume his pitiful drinking.

he sighs, thumbing through the programme. smiling slightly as he reads the officiants name, el hopper. they had just had to make this the strangest wedding he’d ever have the pleasure of attending.

‘do you know the bride or groom?’ your voice speaks from beside him, it’s the first time he’s realised that he’s actually sat next to anyone and he’s actually not in his own little world of misery.

‘huh?’ he asks, looking up to meet your eyes.

you’re smiling, looking as spritely as he wished he felt. clearly some people hadn’t got wasted the night before. amateurs.

‘do you know the bride or groom? sorry- i don’t really know anyone here,’ giving him a shy chuckle as your cheeks flush, maybe you would have to dip after the ceremony.

‘oh.. oh no, i know both of them.. nancy’s my ex girlfriend,’ he wants to kick himself because what on earth had compelled him to say something like that.

‘oh wow..’ you laugh, ‘not awkward at all then,’ kissing the back of your teeth.

‘it’s actually not.. not really,’ he shrugs, shuffling in his chair to face towards you properly, ‘i mean, if i had a choice i probably would’ve skipped but.. what can you do?’

‘right.. still, i don’t envy you,’ smoothing down the creased material of your dress, a deep green to match the earthy tones of the wedding.

‘d’you wanna know my secret to weddings?’ he smiles, leaning in.

‘mhm hit me.’

‘you just gotta get as drunk as humanly possible and they’re actually not so bad..’

‘isn’t it like..’ you check your wrist watch, ‘it’s noon,’ breaking into a giggle.

‘and that is why i started last night,’ tapping his finger on his temple, he was a genius really.

he wasn’t new to this game. having been forced to a plethora of fancy weddings with his parents and the wave of weddings from high school friends, he was wise to all the tricks in which made weddings bearable.

‘well, i might have to join you.. i don’t know anybody here,’ looking around at the hordes of strangers milling around the large room.

‘why are you here then?’ immediately wincing at his choice of words, ‘shit no.. i meant, do you know nancy? or jonathan? or have you snuck in?’

you giggle again and it’s music to his ears. sat next to a pretty girl who finds him funny? maybe today couldn’t be all that bad after all.

‘i know nancy.. we were roommates at emerson, she’s like.. the only person i’ve kept in contact with.’

he nods, going to speak but is abruptly interrupted by the sound of the organ chiming. your cue to actually start paying attention to the ceremony at hand. he turns his attention to the alter, exhaling heavily.

‘i’m so sorry.. i never asked your name,’ whispering with his body still facing the front, but completely leaning his shoulder into yours.

oh this wedding was about to be so much fun.

-

you had taken steve’s advice, who’s name you had now learnt, immediately downing a glass of champagne when you got to the reception. hey, if you were going to have to meet a thousand new people tonight, you’d have to be a little buzzed to do it.

it’s no surprise you’ve been shoved onto the singles table, finding your name on the board and slinking off to your corner of the banished. steve already sat slumped over at his seat which was suspiciously next to yours again. he totally hadn’t swapped out stacey’s name card for yours.. never.

you slide into the chair, ‘we have got to stop meeting like this,’ gently nudging his elbow with yours as to not alarm him.

‘huh,’ he smiles, eyes glistening, ‘it must be fate,’ swivelling on the chair to give you his attention.

‘must be,’ raising your eyebrows ever so slightly.

he’s nursing what must be his fifth? sixth? drink, this time opting for something a little more socially acceptable with a beer. if it weren’t an open bar he’d offer to buy you a drink but it seemed a little cheap.

‘so, where are you from?’ he’s utterly intrigued by you, desperate to know everything there is to know.

‘denver and then boston.. for college and now i’m in cincinnati for my job,’ you shrug, feeling immensely coy under his gaze, ‘i take it you’re from indiana like nancy?’

she had spoken about how people mostly stayed in their small town, they’d meet someone in high school and fall into the suburban family life without ever realising it. and then before they knew it, it was too late and they were stuck there. she was determined to not do that.

‘yeah..’ he sounds deflated, thinking of the place he called home, ‘but it’s home i guess..’ he taps on the table, ‘what d’ya do for work?’

‘i’m an editor at a publishing house,’ his expression says that he doesn’t entirely understand, ‘i work with a lot of writers and basically tell them what to do,’ that was the very basic premise of your role but you’d gathered that he probably didn’t actually care much.

‘oh wow.. so you’re boss lady then?’ swigging on the now-warm liquid, he’s listening intently to whatever comes out of your mouth.

‘hah.. not quite,’ fiddling with the tiny name plaque in front of you, ‘one day.. hopefully,’ you were never a fan of talking about yourself, ‘so what do you do?’

he rolls his eyes playfully, ‘work for my dad, i didn’t get into college soo.. he gave me a job,’ eyes wandering to the guests now joining your table, ‘but really i’m just a glorified assistant and even that’s being generous,’ playing off his disappointment with a small laugh.

‘well that doesn’t sound too bad..’ picking up on his demeanour, ‘shall we get another drink before we have to sit through the awful speeches?’

his pretty pink lips curl into a smirk, ‘i like your thinking,’ standing from the table with his hand offered out for you to hold.

-

‘i-i’ll say a couple words.. c’mon,’ he grins, stepping up towards the small stage, hopper reluctantly passes the mic over to steve, watching apprehensively as he climbs onto the stage.

robin sighs, this could really only go one way and she sure as hell did not want to be in the room to witness it.

there’s a chance that you two had slightly overdone it with the free bar.. you wince watching him up on the stage. the opinions of these people meant absolutely nothing to you but quite obviously did to him.

‘as you all know.. nancy is my ex girlfriend-,’ there’s a collective groan from the audience, ‘but.. but no, that’s not what i came to say.. i wanted to say that-,’ he hiccups into the microphone, ‘that the first time i properly spoke to jonathan, he beat my ass and fuck did it hurt,’ chuckling to himself, ‘but that ass kicking actually.. and you won’t believe it, but it made me a better person and y’know what.. i’m really happy for you,’ he thrusts his glass into the air, ‘so, please join me in a toast to our newly weds.. you deserve it,’ turning to face the cringing couple at the table.

nancy gives him a small smile, it wasn’t exactly shakespearean but the sentiment was nice and he hadn’t embarrassed himself or fallen off the stage head first so she was going to take it as a win.

‘thank you, steve,’ jonathan nods, steve’s sure he can see a tiny smile on his face despite the lousy speech he’d just given.

hopper claps him on the back as he gets off of the stage, taking a mental note to keep an eye on the boy for the rest of the evening. the free bar may not have been the wisest decision after all.

steve collapses into his chair, immediately leaning into you, ‘that was good, right?’ taking a sip of his drink.

‘uh.. yeah, maybe didn’t need to mention the ex girlfriend thing buuut.. i don’t think it was that bad,’ you laugh, watching as he nods in self satisfaction.

‘good, i’m glad you approve,’ his eyes are narrow, glossy as they look back at you, he tilts his glass for you to cheers.

‘cheers.. to a not-so-bad wedding,’ you say, knocking your glasses together.

‘and to new friends,’ he adds, that same grin you’d now become accustomed to after only a few short hours.

‘to new friends.’

-

you and your new friend had sorta maybe totally took full advantage of the free bar and the tiny bag of magic powder steve had kept in his blazer pocket. it wasn’t something you’d usually indulge in, but the champagne had gone to your head and the party was getting dull so..

‘i just wanna say.. i don’t do this shit all the time,’ using his credit card to push the powder into small lines on the edge of the basin, ‘just for when i need a little pick me up..’

he looks up at you from his hunched over position, he’s half-smiling as he pulls a ten dollar bill from his wallet, fiddling around as he rolls it into a small cylinder, offering it to you.

you’re cramped into one of the tiny cubicles together, your back pressed against the cold wall, ‘mm hmm and me either.. just to clarify,’ carefully placing the half-empty champagne flute down on the sink.

‘ladies first..’ hand brushing against against the small of your back as he stands up, mere inches from your face.

you oblige, bending over to sniff the powder, wincing as it stings on the way up. holding out the note for steve to take, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes the note. perhaps it was the copious amounts of alcohol but you could’ve worn you felt your heart miss a beat.

he stands back up, holding his nose. eyes still very much refusing to leave yours. they’re a beautiful chestnut colour and you’re sure they looked even better with a sober mind.

‘ready to dance?’ you ask, raising your brows.

his tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth to wet his lips, ‘in a minute,’ your heart pounding in not only your chest, ‘fuck- can i kiss you?’

‘please-,’

interrupted by his lips pressing against your own, eyes fluttering shut as his clammy hand finds your waist, pressing himself into your chest.

your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, his tongue glides over your bottom lip, mouth opening for him, as your fingers thread into his hair. he tastes of beer, cigarettes and the mint he’d not-so-sneakily shoved into his mouth before bringing you in here.

it’s all teeth and tongues, his hands getting grabby as they begin to roam around. you so desperately want to jump up onto the sink and let him fuck you into the porcelain right here. pressing your thighs together trying to satiate the growing ache.

you don’t, obviously. his lips chasing yours as you pull back, clawing at the back of his neck, the thumping music of the reception getting louder as someone enters the bathroom.

you put your finger on his lips, willing him not to say a word as the stranger locks themself in the cubicle right next to yours. he’s smirking, pupils blown out from the substance you’d shared. it was exhilarating, pushing his knee between your legs, fingers digging into your sides.

jesus christ, it feels like you’re in this position for eternity. waiting forever for the mystery person to vacate the bathroom. growing impatient as his fingertips dance around your hips, teasing as they tug on your dress.

eventually, they get the fuck out and steve is on your lips again before the door had chance to shut fully. moaning softly into his mouth at the sheer feeling of his thigh brushing against yours. you were a mess and he’d barely touched you yet.

‘shall we.. go? i have a room upstairs,’ mumbling between kisses, not wanting to let go of your lips for too long.

-

there’s a banging on the door just as he’s managed to slip your dress off. you clutch the material to your chest, covering your dignity in fear of intruders.

‘steve? you in there?’ a woman’s voice calls through the wood.

your eyes widen, absolutely certain that he’d had some hidden girlfriend who was now positively fuming that he’d disappeared with you.

his head slumps as he breathes out, hair brushing against your face, seemingly relieved with whoever was outside, ‘it’s rob.. let me just..’ he clambers off of the bed, ‘she won’t leave until i answer.’

steve swings open the door, met with an unimpressed robin. she’s been scouring the party for the last hour trying to find him. only to find out that he’d last been seen with a girl no one had ever seen before.

‘heyy rob.. everything okay?’ he asks cautiously, well aware that he was shirtless, belt hanging from his pant loops.

‘is everything okay with you? you just disappeared.. what’re you doing in there?’ eyeing his disheveled appearance.

‘ah shit i’m sorry.. i couldn’t find you,’ lies, he hadn’t even looked, far too interested in getting you back to his room.

her eyes narrow, glancing down at the hastily removed heel in the doorway, ‘d’you have a girl in there?’

he frowns at his best friend, ‘wha-? i’m just, going to bed..’ following her gaze to the shoe, ‘yes.. there is.’

you try not to giggle from behind the door, watching as he kicks your shoe backwards into the room.

‘ew,’ she grimaces, ‘why’d you answer the door, you freak.. i’ll see you in the morning,’ scoffing as she walks away.

steve closes the door gently before making his back to the bed, ‘i’m so sorry.. she woulda called the cops if i didn’t answer,’ climbing onto the mattress, sat on his knees in front of you.

‘oh? and she’s your..’ slightly bemused as to who that even was and why she seemed to care so much.

‘best friend,’ he leans in, tugging at the dress still pressed against your chest, ‘so where were we?’ devious smirk painting his face as your grip begins to loosen.

he presses forward, connecting your lips once more, nudging you into laying back, hovering over your body with one hand attempting to wrestle the dress from between your bodies. it lands on the carpet with a soft thud, his hand now free to roam the length of your body, fingers softly brushing over the waistband of your underwear before settling on your thigh. it’s cruel and teasing, you’ve already wasted so much time.

you move your hips upwards, chasing his touch. utterly desperate to feel him again. groaning into his mouth, not bothering to hide your impatience. steve smirks, walking his fingers up toward your hip.

his fingers slip into your carefully chosen panties, choking for air as he pulls back from your lips, ‘holy shit.. you’re soaking,’ still lingering around your aching heat, not doing anything to satisfy the growing wetness.

‘shut up,’ you grumble, pulling him back onto your mouth. rutting your hips to signal how desperate you really are.

he finally gets there, middle and forefinger travelling between your slick folds, rubbing pathetic circles around your clit. you’re grateful for the long awaited release, detaching from his lips to moan.

‘ohh fuck,’ he mutters, feeding off of the delightful sounds coming from your mouth. his cock twitching against your thigh.

‘please,’ you whine, unable to take any more of his incessant teasing. it had gone on for what felt like forever. you blame the various substances for your neediness and the subsequent lack of embarrassment for it.

‘keep begging like that and you can have anything you want,’ rescinding his fingers to tackle his own belt, hastily unbuckling the metal and yanking his suit pants down. boxers coming to rest around his thighs shortly after.

your eyes widen at the sight of his leaking cock springing up. you had felt that he was big but holy shit, this was something else. your surprise doesn’t go unnoticed, his veiny hand fisting his cock as his other hand comes to rest beside your head.

‘i’ll go slow,’ he breathes, eyes hooded as his chestnut eyes gaze into yours. he was used to the apprehension by now. your clammy hands grip onto the back of his neck, feet coming to rest on his lower back. nodding quickly underneath him.

he slides into your cunt achingly slow, his mouth falling open. a strangled sound rumbling from his throat, ‘fuck.. you feel.. so good,’ staying where he was, assessing your reaction before making his next move.

it feels like he’s splitting you open but it’s good. burning desire filling your veins, ‘fuck me..’ you nod, ‘please fuck me,’ becoming accustomed to the feeling of being full, pleading for him to just move.

you don’t have to tell him twice, an animalistic growl escaping as he begins to thrust his hips. he’s still holding back, you can tell but it’s oh so much better than his stagnant pace of before.

your eyes struggle to stay open, eyelids fluttering as he slams into you. hitting the sweet, soft spot you’re sure only he could reach. back arching off of the mattress, sweaty chests colliding, chasing that feeling.

‘oh my god,’ you moan, loud enough for whoever is staying in the adjacent room to hear. it’s filthy, lewd and desperate. the sound of his balls slapping against your supple skin, fastening in response to your encouragement.

‘yeah?’ he pants, reaching his hand around to brush the wild hair from your face. ‘been waiting to do this- nghh.. all fuckin’ day,’ relentless with his tempo, pubic area perfectly catching against your throbbing cult, hurtling you towards your orgasm.

‘fuck,’ you grit, eyes screwed shut. it’s disgusting how the sounds of your cunt fill the room, even worse that it was encouraging him. pounding into your hole ruthlessly, grunting as he nears his own orgasm.

the familiar sensation twists in your stomach, mouth hung open as it’s useless even attempting to muffle yourself. ‘steve..’ you mewl, more as a warning that you were fast approaching your release.

he can feel it, the way you clench around him and the utter mindless babbling coming from your mouth were all too familiar. ‘you gonna come? huh? you wanna come?’ struggling to keep his own composure.

you can’t even verbalise your response, nodding maniacally while your legs squeeze around his waist, keeping him deep inside as you begin to tremble. stomach flipping and your head becoming fuzzy, the tip of his cock nudging against the spongy spot as you come undone around him.

the pleasure is almost overwhelming, tears pricking in your eyes as you writhe against him. ‘shitshitshit,’ whining breathlessly into his ear.

‘oh fuck,’ he barks, beginning to lose his rhythm. hips stuttering as he fills you up, thick ropes of cum painting your walls. pulling out far too late and collapsing on top your sweaty body.

chest rising and falling in time with his as you try to regain your breath, still clinging onto his neck while he buries his face into your shoulder, arms wrapping around your back.

‘oh fuck is right,’ you remark, giggling at his pathetic demeanour. fingers running through his damp hair, his wet lips pressing against the skin of your neck. your mind still too hazy to truly comprehend the implications of him coming inside of you. something for tomorrow you to worry about.

‘i’m sorry,’ he mumbles, cocking his head to finally look up at you, ‘your fault..’ attempting to crack a joke.

‘oh it’s my fault?’

‘oh yeah,’ shifting off of your body and onto the bed slightly, still holding onto your waist. ‘i’d have a baby with you any day,’ wrestling to pull the blanket over your bodies.

you narrow your eyes, resting your head on the soft pillow, choosing to blissfully ignore his comments. the toll of the long day starting to take on your body as your eyes begin to close. snuggling into the side of his body, tangling your leg between his.

‘i wasn’t joking,’ he murmurs sleepily, fingers brushing your back softly.

‘shut up.’

-

you’re wary of even waking him, wondering if it’d be easier to just slip out unnoticed. maybe you could leave a note on the bedside table for him to find.

no. no, that’d be rude. most one night stands you wouldn’t even be contemplating it, you’d have ran out of there the second you were awake. something felt different with steve.. like maybe you shouldn’t.

you nudge his arm, leaning over his body.

‘steve? steve.. i have to go..’ you coo softly, coaxing him awake.

he jolts, snapping his head in your direction, ‘huh? what?’ squinting as he comes to, head already pounding from the copious amounts of liquor he’d ingested last night.

‘i have to go..’ smiling at his sleepy demeanour.

‘what? no.. no no, where are you going?’ voice heavy with sleep, a whole octave deeper than it was last night.

‘i’ve gotta check out out of my room and drive home.’

he sits up agains the pillow, stretching his arms out with a stifled yawn, ‘now? it’s so early,’ his fingers wrap around your wrist, ‘stay.. ten minutes,’ gently trying to pull you back into the bed with him.

‘it’s a long drive.. i can’t,’ you mutter, standing strong despite the overwhelming urge to just get back into the warm bed with him.

‘let me walk you back then,’ the smooth pad of his thumb tracing along your wrist, ‘gimme like.. five minutes and we can go,’ dropping your arm as he springs out of the bed.

‘you don’t have to.. really,’ you persist, watching as he shimmies into a discarded pair of sweatpants, frantically searching for a clean t-shirt in his suitcase.

‘well i’m going to,’ he pulls it over his messy hair, it had been neglected the last few days and he’d been kicking himself for not looking his best for you.

you simply smile at him, nothing you could say would change his mind so it was easier not to and you weren’t exactly averse to spending more time with him.

he emerges from the bathroom looking slightly more put together, ‘okay i’m ready.. let’s go,’ grabbing his wallet, nearly empty cigarette box and his room key from his discarded pants pocket and grinning.

it’s a comfortable silence on the way back to your room, steve nodding his head at a few wedding guest stragglers who were either doing the exact same thing you were doing or trying to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

the atmosphere is pleasant, almost natural as you walk the halls. arms brushing against each other with every step.

‘well, this is me,’ nodding at the basically untouched hotel room. you’d stepped foot in it once to drop your bag off and hadn’t seen it since.

steve’s biting down onto his bottom lip, ‘you really gotta go now?’ sounding a little disappointed.

‘i’m back to work tomorrow.. i’m sorry,’ trying to disguise your own disappointment. realistically, you probably wouldn’t see him again. just a one time, crazy wedding story you would look back on fondly in a few years.

‘i’m not,’ he offers, trying desperately not to let this go. dating in hawkins wasn’t great, and he wasn’t sure that he’d ever find someone like you even if he searched for his entire life. he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t at least try.

‘oh?’ raising your brows.

‘yanno, i’ve never been to cincinnati before,’ smirking down at you, ‘i was actually thinking of taking a little vacation there.. like, this week?’

the corners of your lips twitch into a smile, ‘you know what? that sounds like a great idea.’

[friendlyneighborhoodslut]

𝓲𝓿. 𝓣𝓱𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

»𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐛𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬«

0:59─〇───── 4:20

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

“Enemies By Monday” series, part 4.

MASTERLIST

Summary: She couldn’t let him spend Thanksgiving alone, but letting Steve Harrington into her life is a dangerous slope of which she’s unsure she’s ready to cross.

Warnings: Strong language, drinking, ANGST, unrequited love in the form of flashbacks, bullying, Reader’s going through it emotionally in this one, arguing? Idk man I just work here. This is so long I’m so sorry.

𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟗, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓

Fuzzy music plays through the busted radio on the counter. Eleven dusts the entertainment center in the living room while I am pinned with the unfortunate task of making the turkey for the third year in a row. I still don’t know how I ended up getting stuck with the tradition, I suppose Dad just decided one year that he’d had enough of doing it.

Violating a turkey at ten o’clock in the morning isn’t on my list of favorite activities. But it’s only once a year, right?

The kitchen is the stuffy type of warm; a combination of the preheating oven, boiling potatoes on the stove, and my personal workout from lugging around a fifteen-pound bird. As I pull its neck and other giblets out of the cold center, I gag and place them in a plastic bowl at the edge of the counter. The next step is to season the it inside and out, and I take note that the rosemary I’d gotten from the store is absent from my spread of ingredients. I lean back, still elbow-deep in the turkey, scanning the room. A tiny plastic container of fresh rosemary springs sits lonely on the oak dining table, taunting me.

Once I pull my hands out of this thing, there’s no way in hell they go back in.

“El!” I shout over the music.

“What?” She hollers back, annoyed.

“Can you hand me the rosemary from the table, please?” I call out, wiggling my fingers against the cold meat. My little sister is suspiciously quiet, and it isn’t until I peer over my shoulder that I realize she hasn’t ignored my request. The rosemary drifts vicariously in the air, wiggling like she’ll drop it from the other room. It plops down in front of me on the tray that I prep the turkey on. “Thank you!”

The front door opens and closes, rattling the thin walls in its wake of motion. I hear El greet him before he enters the kitchen, a gray plastic bag swinging from his fingers. “Munson Delivery Service,” he grins, setting the bag on the ground. The sound of beer cans clanking against one another faintly echos against the floor.

“You’re a life saver,” I exasperate, finishing my task and pulling my hands out of the turkey. I raised my arms up, covered in seasoning and poultry juices. My hands are trembling and I feel out of breath.

He grimaces, playing with his hair. “You’re nervous,”

“About what?” I try to play it off, but he’s right, I’m petrifyingly nervous. I feel as though I could turn to stone at any moment.

“You know what,” he tilts his head.

I shake my head, putting the turkey in the oven. “I know he’ll judge us, what we have—or more like what we don’t—I’m already prepared for it to be spread around school, not that it’s much a secret anyway,” I ramble, delicately dropping eggs in a pot and filling it with water.

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Eddie counters, coming up behind me to lift the large heavy pot out of the sink for me. He places it on the stove. “Admit it, Princess. You’ve still got a thing for Harrington,”

My stomach does summersalts. “I do NOT. I’m offended you’d even insinuate that,”

“So you invited him over for dinner for…what? Shits and giggles?” he taunts, turning the stovetop on high and dumping an ungodly amount of salt into the pot.

“Eddie,” I sigh, scrubbing dishes in the sink. “It’s not like that. I technically work for the Harrington’s right now,”

“I don’t recall ‘have Holiday meals with the pretty one’ being on your verbal contract,”

“Do you have a point or are you just trying to piss me off?” I hiss. I need a fucking drink.

“My point is, don’t be stupid. And if you’re gonna be stupid, well, be careful,” he tells me, rummaging through the bag and grabbing out two beer cans. He cracks one open and sets it next to the sink, in my line of sight. I’m grateful he can read my mind.

“Enough about me, Munson. Tell me about Joey. He’s coming to dinner tonight, right? To meet Wayne?” I shift the uncomfortable topic, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind.

“Yeah, that’s tonight. I’m nervous as hell,” he admits. Eddie had only come out to Wayne three weeks ago, despite his steady relationship with a boy from our school, Joey, having been ongoing for three months.

Eleven pads into the room, running to the fridge. We watch as she snatches a Coke from it, opening it and beginning to chug.

“Chill out, no more sugar or you’re gonna be running up the walls,” I scold and, goddammit, I’m starting to sound like our dad.

She sticks her tongue out at me.

“Hey, you heard her, Kid. Need you on your best behavior tonight. Lay off the sugar and no superhero stuff.” Eddie instructs. Annoyingly, she listens to him better than me.

“Right, because Mantis’s boyfriend is coming over,” she teases.

“He is NOT my boyfriend!”

“He totally is her boyfriend,” Eddie’s a horrible whisperer.

“Edward, don’t lie to the child, you know she believes everything you say,” I glare. He shrugs. The damage has been done, as she’s already scampered back off to the living room to do more cleaning. I’d agreed to a candy for every piece of furniture dusted, something I have come to regret, as she keeps finding things to clean.

“Now you’ve done it, can’t wait to have that conversation later,” I complain, eluding to the inevitable ‘when a man and woman love each other very much’ conversation that I predict is approaching very quickly with her. Dad can’t be trusted to do it, he’s to awkward for his own good. She’d never come to him about those things anyways, it’s always been me.

“What, are you gonna have sex with him and you’re worried she’ll hear?” He teases, jabbing at my side with his elbow.

“Jesus, Eddie!” I choke.

“No judgement! I would, given I could forget who he is for a bit,” he mumbles the last part and I wack him with the towel I’m drying my hands with.

“You’re disgusting.” I tell him. He laughs.

Eddie is trying and failing to explain Dungeons and Dragons to Eleven for the ten-thousandth time, foolishly hoping someday she’ll understand enough to join a campaign. I’m on my third beer, finishing the last swig as my vision begins to blur, and I suddenly feel a lot less nervous. In fact, I don’t feel shit other than contempt. I almost forget about the looming threat of Steve Harrington coming to my house—almost—until there’s a knock at the door.

Im on my feet and opening the front door before I can think to stop myself. He stands on the front door step, remnants of summer-kissed skin against a blue sweater, hair swept perfectly to the side. He looks perfect, standing there, like a painting, but then I remember I’m supposed to hate him and definitely not supposed to stare.

“Hi,” I can’t come up with anything else to say. Eddie snickers behind me.

“Hey,” Steve breathes, his hot breath visible in the frigid air. I step aside and gesture for him to come inside. He steps up and I’m paralyzed as he brushes past me and sets his backpack down on the floor.

Eddie peeks up over the couch to look at him. They exchange awkward nods before Eddie stands.

“Alright, Kid. Remember what I said, behave yourself,” Eddie tells El, bending down to ruffle her hair. He approaches me, leaning in to whisper, “you behave too,” before leaving quickly. I groan internally and close the front door.

“Did he… leave because of me?” Steve asks.

“Uh, no,” I lie, and it’s obvious. Steve nods anyways though, looking around the room.

Don’t look too close, I silently beg.

I round to the other side of the couch to make some distance between us. “This is El, my sister,”

Steve’s expression is one of bewilderment, but he smiles. “It’s nice to meet you, El,”

She all but ignores him, turning to me, “I want another Coke,”

“Only if you agree to go outside and run off all the energy from the sugar,” I tell her. She nods enthusiastically in agreement. I giggle and watch her take off to the kitchen, then out the back door. I follow her from afar, leaning over the kitchen sink to watch her through the window. She runs in circles, arms outstretched and pretending to be a bird—or maybe a plane—flying in a loop.

“She’s cute,” Steve’s voice startles me. I jolt and turn around. He’s leaned against the doorway. “I’m sorry I chased your boyfriend off. I can go, if it’s gonna cause a problem—“

“Boyfriend?” I blurt out, brows knit in confusion.

He fumbles over his words, lips parted in contemplation. “Munson. I know he doesn’t like me. Can’t blame him. I don’t want to make your life harder than it needs to be,”

“Harrington,” I interrupt. He watches me closely. “First of all, you already make my life harder than it needs to be. Secondly, he’s not my boyfriend,”

“But—“ he shakes his head. “You’re always together, he calls you Princess. I heard you tell him you love him—“

“Are you stalking me, Steve Harrington?” I pretend to be dead serious, keeping my face straight.

“What? No! It was dark, wanted to make sure you didn’t get kidnapped or something on the way to the car,”

“Kidnapped, in Uptown?” I begin to laugh and laugh until, I can’t stop, and I’m in an uncontrollable fit. My eyes water from laughing so hard. Steve is unamused.

“So.. you’re not dating him?”

“No, God, no,” I giggle, wiping under my eyes. “Eddie’s gay. He’s got a boyfriend,”

“A.. Boyfriend?”

“Correct,” I snort. “You know what those are… right?”

“He flirts with you,” Steve thinks aloud, like he’s trying real hard to put the pieces together.

“Eddie will flirt with anything that breathes, even you. Better watch out,” I tease.

He gives me a look and I shake my head. “There’s beer in the fridge. Help yourself.” I tell him, turning to pull the turkey out of the oven. As he sits at the table and drinks his beer silently, he asks if I want any help. I shake my head, finishing the mashed potatoes and deviled eggs.

I try to clean as I go, washing dishes and laying them on a towel to dry. Steve stands and I snap, “Harrington, sit your ass back down,”

“You look stressed,”

“I function well under pressure,” I tell him absently, working quickly to arrange the spread of food. I can feel his eyes on me and I begin to sweat. This is an unforeseen type of pressure, different than anything before. My hands fumble a bit but I refuse to ask him for help. He watches me intently and I do my best to ignore him, finishing the setup just as El comes barreling in through the back door.

“I’m so hungry I could eat the house!” She announces.

“Probably because you just burned a week’s worth of calories in twenty minutes,” I joke.

“What’s a calorie?”

“A unit of measurement for energy, used to express nutritional value of food,” I explain, setting a heaping plate in front of her. Eleven contemplates then nods. Steve watches us interact, fascinated. I crack open another beer, feeling wobbly.

“How many of those have you had?” Steve inquires.

I shrug. “Not enough,”

“Don’t be getting drunk on me now, we need your Genius brain in tact,”

I take another swig. “I’ll always be your Genius, drunk or not.”

He grins and I do too, hiding mine behind the cool aluminum of a Busch Light can.

I’m tucking Eleven into bed, the door propped open just an inch. Kneeling over her bed, I kiss her head. She’d had boundless amounts of energy after dinner and practically begged Steve to go play with her outside, ecstatic to have someone new to play with. I told him he didn’t have to but surprisingly, he obliged. Turns out Steve Harrington not only loves kids, but he’s like a magnet for them. They played until she was worn out and the sky was dark. This is the earliest she’s gone to bed all year.

“Your boyfriend’s pretty cool, Mantis,” she mumbles against the comforter, eyes fighting sleep.

I laugh through my nose. “You did good today,” I praise, flicking the lamp on her nightstand off. “Get some sleep. Goodnight.”

Closing her bedroom door behind me, I step into the dark hallway.

“Mantis, huh?” Steve’s voice is deep and reverberates against the night. I flail, unsure of where he is. Two large soft hands grab my shoulders, spinning me to face a shadowy figure. His breath fans my face, a mix of spearmint and cheap beer.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting in hallways like this,” I quip and turn to hide, escaping down the hall.

He chuckles and follows me.

The lone desk under my bedroom window is crowded with a semester’s worth of biology homework. We both cram into the space, shoulders touching as we go through the first textbook.

“Cells reproduce by dividing, so all cells exist because of pre-existing cells,” I explain, highlighting the basis of Cell Theory in my textbook. “I’ll send you home with this, you’ll need to study it for your final. I can’t take that for you so it’s very important that you actually—what the fuck are you looking at?”

Steve’s got this goofy look on his face as he stares at me. He’s so close to me, one arm resting on the back on my chair and his chest pressed into my shoulder. I look at him expectantly and he shakes his head, taking a drink from his fourth beer of the night. “Just lookin’,” he tells me.

“You should be just lookin’ at the page or your stupid self is gonna be repeating senior year,” I retort.

“Wouldn’t be so bad. Could hangout with you more,” he slurs.

I’m not sober enough for this.

“So you can torment me and extra year?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he leans impossibly closer.

“Shut up and read the textbook, Harrington.” I shove it his way, standing up to make some space between us.

“Why do you call me that?”

“You mean your name?” I snark, wrapping my arms around myself and holding my elbows.

“My name is Steve,” he tells me, drunkly, in a matter-of-fact way; like he’s proud he knows something I don’t.

“Steve Harrington is your name,” I snicker. He’s much more pleasant in this way, the drunken idiot. “Steve’s the boy I was friends with four years ago. Harrington is, well… you,” I roll my eyes and plop down onto my bed.

He stares blankly at me across the room. There’s an eerie silence in the room and I can tell he’s thinking—or trying to, at least—about something. Watching him sit at the same desk I’ve had since Dad dragged me all the way out to Indiana brings me back the days when all of this would’ve seemed so normal. He sits the same way he always has, one leg tucked up to rest on his knee, back slouched into the chair.

“Remember the day we met?” The words come out before I can stop them, fueled by a drunken stooper, brave and bold.

“Shit, yeah,” he lulls. “Miss. John’s English class, back when she used to teach both seventh and eighth grade,”

“Dad had just dragged me to this shitty town after… y’know,” my throat closes up thinking about Sarah. I was so young when she died, but that didn’t make it hurt less. The fallout and subsequent divorcing of my parents was devastating to my preteen self. “I was terrified, shaking like a leaf. The whole class was staring at me when she introduced me. I thought I was gonna die,”

“You were much more shy back then,” Steve confirms. “Nicer, too,”

I scoff, grabbing a pillow off my bed to throw at him. He holds his arms up to shield his face.

“Only seat open was next to you. You scared the shit out of me,” I admit.

“What, why?” His voice goes p an octave.

“You were staring at me,” I giggle. “Like you’d never seen a girl before,”

“Maybe I thought you were pretty,” he suggests.

I pretend to be annoyed. “Remember? I sat down and dug through my bag; then I realized, shit, I forgot—“

“A pen.” We say at the same time. I remember it so vividly, him silently handing me one across the small aisle. I took it and our fingers brushed, electricity igniting me instantly. I was a goner from the second I looked into those chocolate brown eyes.

“What kind of Genius forgets something to write with on the first day of school?” Steve scolds. “You never gave me that pen back, by the way.”

“I’ll buy you a new one to make up for it,” I joke.

“You could make it up to me a different way,” he raises his eyebrows. Some people really do never change, do they?

“Ugh, gross, Harrington!” I scowl.

“Oh, no, not that!” He shakes his hands in defense. “Just… humor me a second,” He drags his chair across the room, right up to my bed, and sits on it backwards, his chest pressed to the back. “I have questions,”

“We have work to do,”

“Please?”

“No,”

“Just a few,” he pleads. “Then I’ll do whatever you say for the rest of the night. Besides, you owe me. For the pen,”

“I hate you,” I groan.

“Is that a yes?”

“Three. That’s it.”

He adjusts in his seat, giddy like a little kid. “First, where’d the kid come from?”

My heart plummets into my stomach. “El?”

He nods. “I mean, I remember…Sarah, what little times you talked about her. I don’t remember you having two little sisters,”

“I didn’t,” I gulp. “El’s adopted. Her uh… biological parents passed away. Dad got pretty close to her on a case he was working on, he was the only one she’d talk to. Eventually it only made sense that she comes to live with us,” I’m careful to leave out the unsavory details, such as superpowers and monsters. They’re just little details, anyway.

Steve soaks up every word I say, nodding. “What’s El short for?”

“Is that your second question?” I ask stubbornly.

He shakes his head. “Second—this one’s important—what’s up with the nickname, Mantis?”

I laugh. “My mom. She said when I was a baby, she left my nursery window open while I was sleeping. She came to check on me, heard me laughing by myself, and there was a female Praying Mantis on my face. She was a big skeptic and thought it was a spiritual sign of good luck to come,” I sigh, leaning back against the wall. “Turns out I have like, the worst luck imaginable. So I don’t think the Mantis was any help,”

“You’re bad luck, huh?” He tilts his head to the side, chewing on the inside of his lip.

“Oh, yeah,” I add. “I’m trouble.”

We share breathy laughter, the tension slowly melting away. “What’s your final question?”

He contemplates for a second. “Ah, I’ve got it,” he giggles. “Why are you so damn mean?”

I cackle, covering my mouth at the outburst. “I’m usually not. It’s reserved for you,”

“Why?” He presses. Put those big brown eyes away, you asshole.

“Because you made me that way, Steve,” I declare. “I was perfectly fine until you broke my little pre-teen heart. It was—back then—the end of the world for me,”

Steve’s chest rises and falls a little faster. He stares at the floor, like he’s digging up a memory he hasn’t thought about in years, a privilege I had not been granted.

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟎.

I was in seventh grade, Steve was in eighth. After Sarah’s death and my parents divorce, I’d flunked out of the seventh grade and needed to repeat it; only this time, at a new school in a completely different state. People knew my dad was a cop by that time, and it squashed any chance I had at making friends, labeled unrightfully as a snitch. To make matters worse, I was relentlessly teased for needing to repeat a grade. Pre-teens are pure evil.

A lonely day in the cafeteria was interrupted when a boy in a purple sweater and blue jeans sat down next to me. His hair was much shorter then, nowhere near reminiscent of the waves with their own zip code that he adorns now. He hadn’t grown into his strong nose yet and he’d just barely started playing sports two weeks ago. He was a scrawny kid with no friends and a big dark cloud looming over him, just like me.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” He asked, sitting next to me. I must’ve been staring at him like he had two heads, because he added, “It’s me, Steve. From Mrs. John’s? Y’know, I just realized I never told you my name—sorry, let me start over—“

He used to be so awkward. But I loved that about him.

We were fast friends. I’d dare to even say we were best friends, at one point. I had the world’s most diabolical crush on him, and I thought I hid it very well. That was until the Spring on 1981. We were on the cusp of the end of the year. Steve would be headed off to High School and I’d be trapped in Junior High for another year. He suggested that my dad pleads the case for me to be moved up, that my grades had proven that getting held back was purely circumstantial and due to lack of attendance the year prior. It was no luck, though, and we’d be separated for an entire year. This idea bothered Steve an ungodly amount, but I could never figure why.

It ate away at him, piece by piece, until one day it didn’t .

It all changed overnight, after he’d slept over at his teammate Tommy’s house. Tommy had a sister named Taylor and, well, she was the root of all evil. If Satan had spawn, Tommy and Taylor were definitely it. Something happened that night, because the following Monday, Steve and Taylor were dating and he wouldn’t have anything to do with me. My greetings were met with indifferent stares and zipped tight lips, and his seat at the lunch table was cold and empty.

I was blindsided and devastated. It was back to sitting in the cafeteria alone, watching from afar as the table Steve now sat at grew more and more crowded by the day. Very rarely, Steve and I would catch each other’s glances.

Taylor hated me and she made it very apparent. Bugs in my locker and tearing up my notebooks, she’d even gone as far as to get her friends to egg my house and my dad’s car.

It came to a head when Steve brushed past my empty lunch table, slipping a note underneath my tray.

Meet me in the west hallway.

How stupid I was back then. I foolishly dropped everything and ran to him, embarrassingly willing to welcome him back with open arms despite his douchebaggery. He was waiting by the boys’ bathroom, and shit—did he look different. His hair was gelled back and he had a different type of cloud around him, almost a sort of haze.

“Where the heck have you been?” I hissed, shoving his shoulder.

“Ow!” He squealed, rubbing his shoulder. “I’ve been busy,”

“Too busy to speak to your best friend?” I snapped.

“I’m sorry,” he frowned. “Look, I’m here now. And I need to talk to you,” He got closer then. We’d been close before, but never this close, and it made my heart drop into my ass. I began to sweat and I tried not to show how nervous I was. “I like you, Y/N. A lot. I can’t stop thinking about you,”

“I…like you too,” I admitted.

Idiot.

Steve leaned in and so did I.

On cue, Taylor burst out of the bathroom, two open cartons of chunky expired strawberry milk in hand. Carol swooped in from behind her and held me in place as Taylor poured the milk over my head while Tommy snapped a picture on his Polaroid. The room-temperature slime that oozed from the cartons smelt like a combination of vomit and a corpse.

“That’s awesome!” Tommy gleamed.

I wiped the substance from my eyes, feeling it settle into the strands of my hair and the knit of my shirt. I peeled out of Carol’s grasp and shoved Taylor.

She shoved me back. “Stay away from my boyfriend, you whore!”

Until that night, when my father awkwardly explained it, I didn’t even know what that word meant.

I pushed Taylor again. Carol joined in and the took turns pushing me around and pulling on my strawberry milk infested hair while Tommy egged them on. Once they shoved me to the ground, a voice boomed down the hallway.

“Leave her alone!”

It was a tall boy with frizzy black hair. He was bigger and taller than both Tommy and Steve, and that intimidated them. The boy ripped the camera from Tommy, throwing it on the ground and shattering it.

A flash of kicks and punches thrown. Muffled yelling as chunks of milk clogged my ears and blurred my vision. Before I knew it, Edie Munson was leading me into the bathroom to wipe my face with a wet paper towel. He picked solidified milk out of my hair and helped me rinse it in the sink.

“Thank you,” I told him, doing my best not to cry.

“It’s no problem. And it’s okay to cry sometimes, you know,”

That’s all it took. I was a blubbering mess as he took his sweatshirt off and gave it to me, directing me to change out of my sweater in one of the stalls and handing me his. From that day onward, Eddie became my best friend and practically my older brother. I never spoke to Steve Harrington again, wouldn’t even look in his direction. He became the thorn in my side, the one person I hated more than I thought humanly possible. If there’s one thing I excel at, it’s holding a grudge.

“I’m sorry,” Steve laments, snapping me out of my trance.

I blink rapidly to stop the tears from escaping my eyes, but it’s no use. They come before I can stop them, cascading down my cheeks and dripping off my cheeks. He reaches forward, breaching the unspoken personal bubble between us to take my face in his hands. As he brushes away my tears with his thumbs, my body reacts to a violent range of emotions. I tremble under his touch, desperate to run away but even more so to stay. I’m paralyzed, and he can tell, taking advantage to speak again.

“I was a stupid kid. I should’ve never done that to you. I’m so sorry,”

“I just wanna know why,” I sniffle.

His lips form a tight line. “The honest answer?”

I nod. Honesty is the one pillar of integrity I allow zero leeway for.

“You scared the shit out of me,”he breathes. He strains against the chair, getting as close as possible. His elbows rest on my knees as he continues to wipe my tears. “You challenged me, made me think more about everything. It was infuriating but exciting, a terrifying combination. But the scariest part was that you made me fall in love with you when you weren’t even trying,”

I feel like I’ve been shot and punched in the chest at the same time. Time slows down and I look around, trying to uncover if this was really happening. My grief is replaced by shock, then anger, as I come to a conclusion that this is real. Steve Harrington is admitting to being in love with me; the one thing I wanted to hear him say more than anything.

Except he’s four years too late.

“Get out.” I command flatly.

His face falls. “What?”

I peel away from him and I feel empty and gross, like I’m contaminated somehow. I stumble off of the bed and open my bedroom door. “Get out of my house, Steve,” My breathing picks up and my heart hammers in my ribcage until it shatters, little shards getting stuck in my insides that poke and prod at me. I need space. I need to process.

He stares at me like a kicked puppy.

“I didn’t mean to—“

“Leave, before I make you.” I threaten.

He relents, picking up his things before quickly leaving. I watch him go through my bedroom window, a part of me dying as he gets into that red BMW. He sits there for a minute, both hands on the steering wheel. Just when I’m about to open the window and call out to him, he stars the engine, backing out of the driveway and disappearing into the woods.

“Fuck.” I murmur to myself. Going to the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face. I look up at myself, water droplets dripping across my skin. So much of my mother resides in me; the older I become the more I resemble her. Glaring at myself, I curse whatever unforeseen force oversees this unforgiving universe. If my mother could see me now, she’d regret giving me such a forthcoming nickname.

Unluckiest Mantis in the world, I think to myself.

[lolasimms]

Just an idea but what about Ellie and y/n’s honey moon???

High by the beach - Ellie x Reader

_____________________ ୨୧ _______________________

౨ৎ She makes so many White lotus references and makes you rewatch it every night.

౨ৎ Will wake you up at 6am sharp so you can be first at the breakfast buffet.

౨ৎ She insists that “the earlier, the fresher” the food is.

౨ৎ Loves leaving love bites all over you especially with the sundresses and open clothes you’d wear.

౨ৎ She’s obsessed with your bikinis but especially the ones with little lace ribbons and frills.

౨ৎ Will fondle you at the pool, beach, breakfast , lunch and dinner.

౨ৎ Her sex drive during the honeymoon has you utterly exhausted and spent.

౨ৎ After the second night of the honeymoon you’d vowed to hit the gym in the morning after a big dinner.

౨ৎ Plans were changed after Ellie spent an hour in between your thighs, refusing to let you go until your come for her 5 times.

౨ৎ You’d woken up sore and exhausted between your legs and mad that you’d missed your gym session.

౨ৎ Ellie takes pictures of everything, she brings her digital camera with her wherever the two of you go.

౨ৎ Signs you guys up for the hotels, wine and painting night and ends up painting a naked portrait of you.

౨ৎ Somehow manages to find a plug and insists the two of you smoke at the beach.

౨ৎ After having done so and getting absolutely zooted at the beach, you head back to the room and order a hefty amount of room service.

୨୧

“Why does everything sound so good?” you asked, your mouth practically watering over the thought of French fries.

“Because we’re a high as fuck,” Ellie replies, snickering. You both fell silent before bursting into a fit of giggles.

“I want a cheeseburger.”You blurt, nuzzling into her.

“Oh my god, yes.” She rolls over to see the menu. “Crumbed chicken and macaroni and cheese”. That sounds good. Nachos? We should get those too.”

“This is getting expensive.” You laugh, as you grab the menu from her hands.

“Run up a tab. We’re celebrating baby, it’s our fucking honeymoon” She places both hands on your face and leaves a harsh kiss on your lips.

“We’re high Els.”

“Because we’re celebrating…” She hums and licks her lips. “You know since we’re married, we should make a baby. I should put a baby in you tonight.”

“What?”

“We can put a cheeseburger in you first. I’m hungry, too.”

୨୧

౨ৎ You surprise her with a trip to a planetarium on your second to last day and she’s over the moon.

౨ৎ While the tour guide is explaining the constellations she leans over and tells you about how bad she’s going to eat you out tonight.

౨ৎ She books you a couples massage overlooking the beach front.

౨ৎ The two of you love going on night swims, usually they end in you both getting handsy.

౨ৎ Tries to convince you to extend the honeymoon the day before you leave because she’s having so much fun.

౨ৎ When you get back home you catch her looking for ‘best holiday destinations for married couples’ no more than two days after the honeymoon.

[wimble-warcrime]

Ooh can I request how you think kid and killer would show their interest in you? Basically their way of courting you/beginning of a relationship. Together or separate, whatever you feel like 🖤🖤

hi anon, thanks for the ask! i'd be happy to do both :)

im a big fan of the concept of courting in general (to many period drama influences) so some of these may seem weird or ooc

kidd-

different from killer, who would take a more traditional approach to courting/wooing a potential partner, kidd's approach is more... chaotic... we'll say

we all know that this tulip head has the emotional range of a teaspoon, and therefore struggles with expressing any emotion other than rage and pride, so be prepared for a whirlwind of whiplash

he doesn't know what he wants, you don't know what he wants

killer knows what he wants, but won't be at all helpful in this case

while he will staunchly deny this until the day he dies, kidd's love language is acts of service (beating the shit out of people for you), gift giving (making you things to beat the shit out of people) and quality time (discussing in depth on how to beat the shit out of people)

expect a lot of shiny things, handmade metal contraptions, and requests for you to just sit with him (he tells you he needs someone to hold something for him, or shine the light at a particular angle, but we all know he just wants to be around you)

he fails miserably at any attempts of flirtation

the first time you cackle at him for his terrible pick-up lines, he shuts himself away for a few days. the second time, (with killer's guidance) he realizes that making you laugh would be great way to warm up to each other.

it becomes a witty back-and-forth of banter and cheesy pick-up lines, and a solid friendship is formed. you talk about whatever, he gives his (sadistic) input, he rambles on about his latest invention (probably a weapon) and you give your feedback

you don't know that each of these conversations are pertaining to the same creation, he's (very secretly, and quite skillfully (to killer's surprise)) getting your input, because he's making it for you.

it's months in the making, he probably started right after your first lengthy discussion about preferred weapon types or something like that.

i'd like to think that for kidd, it's obsession at first insult with him, so you'd probably be relatively new to the crew. he wouldn't last long enough to have known (and liked you) for years, no patience with dis man

he gets talkative when he drinks, so i guarantee you the first time he gets like black out drunk around you, he spills his guts. its an unspoked rule amongst the crew, that any 'gushy' feelings that come from that captain while he is inebriated, are not to ever EVER be brought up afterwards.

so you kind of just. sit there. thinking abt the fact that this angry tulip man like you. and wont admit it to your face.

after the first emotional moment TM you guys share, things start to pick up. you are witness to a softer side of the one-dimensional captain, and quite like it.

start seeking those out more. he won't, but the best progress is one made in emotional vulnerability. (dr. wimble advice corner approved)

he cant take a hint, so dont bother dropping any. if you wanna go forward, say something. kidd cannot read (alegedly), let alone between the lines. your best bet is to whip out your tits (gn) in front of him.

i will die on this hill, kidd is firmly a boob guy, dont try to change my mind. he lov em

there is no "so, should we date now?" phase with this guy, he just skips right to the "fucking them with the lights on" phase. a hot and heavy encounter later, and he has firmly planted himself at your side, no takes-backsies~~

you wake up the morning after hovered in hickeys and bite marks, and EVERYONE know your his now. he wont say it, but you are.

killer-

killer on the other hand, is a traditionalist, an 'el hopaness romtic' if ya know what im sayin

he will woo the pants right off you, season two anthony bridgerton wet shirt scene style (iykyk)

you probably aren't new to the crew, kil strikes me as the kinda guy who doesn't know he likes someone until it's too late. like man's good at self reflection and all, but it takes TIME to get to him, so there is no 'love at first fisticuffs' with him.

it starts with friendship (demi killer till the day i die), you two are like each others bestfriends. no one tops kidd (ehehe) for this guy, but you can tie

it's the little things at first, and more one-sided at the beginning (on your end), like complimenting his cooking, offering to help with dishes

maybe you buy him some hair stuff, he did mention that he was running out, off handedly. or, you sharpen up his knives for him while he's away

Killer's love language is also acts of service, more so on the receiving end tho, but he likes to give gifts. he'll cook for you, personally

like one meal just for you type thing. he says he wants you to try out a new recipe of his, but really, he just made you a nice meal, and cant say it to your face.

you two act like a couple already, but both deny it, saying youre just 'really good friends'

he first really realises that he likes you, seriously likes (maybe love) you when you get injured. and not like, oh little scratch, but like, almost died injured.

a foe has never been downed faster, than when killer heard your scream of pain and terror from across the battle field, and fucking flew across to get to you.

it's obvious to anyone that mans got it badd. he doesnt leave your side until youre concious again and the promptly blows up you for being dumb and reckless and almost getting killed. its a nasty fight, one that shatters your friendship. no one expected anything like that from him. probably the most anyone has ever heard from him in one go

he is just worried, but cant tell you that he loves you, without fully knowing how you feel back. not a guy who readily takes risks like that.

it's a few weeks before he's talking to you again, afraid that he astronomically fudged it by his little outburst. the exchanges are clipped, (you, who had been pining hard for him for like ever) and you're positively sure he hates your guts (he doesnt he just scared)

he avoids you, trying to put as much distance between you two as physically possible, trying to get rid of his feelings for you. but the you go and get yourself hurt. again

it was an accident this time, he saw it happen. like slow motion, the knife you were holding was bumped out of your hand by someone backing into you, it fell, cutting your hand open, before notching itself into the flood

he blows up at the person responsible, before dragging you to the medbay to patch you up. all the while, muttering about how clumsy you are, how much of a danger magnet you seem to be.

its at that moment you know how he feels. it's not said outright, but the care he takes with you, treating you like you're glass

you lean down to kiss his mask. just a small pec, an utterance of a 'thank you' whispered after

but

his heart is beating like a wild mustang, and he freezes. he makes sure your affection wasn't just because you were grateful (after he starts working again)

your reassurance is like cupids arrow for his heart. you like him, have liked him for a while

nothing really changes between your dynamic after that, at least from the outside. really, you've started to be more physically affectionate behind closed doors.

it's a huge step when he takes his mask of around you. the lights are off, and you can't see his face, but he lets you touch it. huge step in your relationship

he's still a baddie, violent and unhinged, (to keep up appearances), but when no ones looking, he'll love on you

this feels kinda rushed ngl, but alas, when is it not? anywayz anon, hope you like it! iv'e already done poly! kidkiller here, i hope you enjoy :)

btw my requests are open, but im still in college, so be mindful if it takes me a hot minute to reply to them

[melhindips]

🚨 Update on the current field situation in the Gaza Strip as of 09:00 PM on day 337 of the war on Gaza:

⭕️ Northern Governorate:

▪Martyrs and wounded as a result of an Israeli bombardment on a tent sheltering displaced persons inside the Halima Al-Sa'diya school in the Jabalia Al-Nazla area, northern Gaza Strip.

▪️More than 30 injuries due to artillery shelling on citizens' homes around Al-Qassam Mosque in the Beit Lahiya Mashrou', northern Gaza Strip.

▪The water desalination stations in the Gaza and North Governorates are still struggling to provide service due to the lack of fuel necessary for their operation.

▪️ For the tenth month, the Israeli occupation has prevented the entry of vegetables, fruits, frozen goods, and basic materials into the Gaza and North Governorates.

⭕️ Gaza Governorate:

▪️Two martyrs, including a child, and injured people as a result of an Israeli bombardment of a residential building belonging to the "Gherbawi" family near the Youth and Sports Roundabout in the Al-Nasr area west of Gaza City.

▪️ Three martyrs and more than 20 injured as a result of an Israeli bombardment on the "Amro Ibn Al-As" school in the Abu Iskander area in the Sheikh Radwan neighborhood north of Gaza City.

▪️ For the fifteenth day, Israeli occupation forces continue to advance in the Zaytoun neighborhood.

▪️ Heavy bombing, demolition, and burning of citizens' homes south of Street 8.

▪️ Very heavy Israeli artillery shelling on various areas north of Street 8, specifically in the regions of Al-Hasan Ibn Ali Square, Abu Habib intersection, and the Islamic Complex area.

▪️ The occupation forces continue to prevent the entry of cooking gas since the beginning of the war until now, forcing citizens to resort to using alternatives made of nylon, cardboard, and fabric, which may pose a danger to lives and property.

⭕️ Central Governorate:

▪️8 martyrs, including a child, and many wounded as a result of an Israeli bombardment on a group of citizens in the Al-Hasayna area west of the Al-Nuseirat camp in the central Gaza Strip.

▪️6 martyrs, including two children and three women, as a result of an Israeli bombardment on a house belonging to the "Eid" family on Old Court Street in Al-Nuseirat in the central Gaza Strip.

▪️One martyr as a result of an Israeli bombardment near the Gaza Valley Bridge north of the Al-Nuseirat camp.

▪️Israeli bombardment on a house belonging to the "Radi" family northwest of the Al-Nuseirat camp.

▪️Israeli bombardment on a house belonging to the "Abu Shawish" family west of the New Camp north of the Al-Nuseirat camp in the central Gaza Strip.

⭕️ Khan Younis Governorate:

Two martyrs and injured as a result of Israeli shelling on a house belonging to the "Jarghon" family near the Islamic University southeast of Khan Younis.

▪️Injuries due to heavy Israeli artillery shelling on several scattered areas of Khan Younis.

⭕️ Rafah Governorate:

▪️Two martyrs as a result of Israeli shelling on civilians in the Areeba area north of Rafah city.

▪️Recovery of a martyr and injuries as a result of Israeli artillery shelling targeting the vicinity of Al-Firdaws School west of Rafah city.

▪️Recovery of the bodies of martyrs since this morning from various areas of Rafah city.

▪️Israeli shelling on a group of citizens near the Al-Alam roundabout west of Rafah city in the southern Gaza Strip.

▪️Israeli shelling and demolition of residential buildings northwest of Rafah city.

Saturday, September 07, 2024

[tan1shere]

heyyy i was wanting to request! where reader and ellie has a kid and its christmas night, yall are putting the presents up and yall can hear your kid moving around in their bed and yall run to yalls room to not get caught, just a silly fanfic really! 😊

Christmas Shenanigans

Ellie williams x fem reader!

A/n: yes my anon ! At your service ! I don't particularly like this but I hope you guys do :)

My masterlist!

Warnings: none, just pure fluffyness, maybe some language but not much, just slightly flirtatious Ellie.

The warmth from the fireplace is one of the things keeping you happy and content. You were currently sipping some hot cocoa, sitting on the couch as Ellie approaches you. "She's finally out, we can start whenever." It was currently Christmas eve and Ellie had just put your daughter down for bed. "Little mites incredibly excited." She says with a smile etched onto her face, plopping down on the couch, next to you. You smile also leaning into her touch. "When should we get the presents out here?" You look over at the tree, you guys were waiting for Autumn to fall asleep. "We could do it now, speedily." You nod, going to get up. "What time are we going to see Joel in the morning?" You inquire. She also gets up. "Well we would probably be there at around mid day, he's putting on a lunch for the fam."

She goes to your guys room which was thankfully on the other end of your daughter's bedroom. You follow after her. "Sounds like a plan." You go into the closet getting the already wrapped presents. You grab a few and so does Ellie. Quietly making your way down. "This kid is spoiled." You laugh out. "Dont talk like thatt. Only the best for my little princess." You laugh at her. "What am I then? Chopped liver." She let's out her own laugh. "Dont worry, you'll get the best present later on in the evening." She winks at you, and you just roll your eyes. Always gotta be joking about something.

You had finished not too long ago the room was dark as you were ready to go up, but you suddenly hear the floorboards in your daughters room creak. You and Ellie both look at one another, quietly but at a fast pace, going into your guys shared bedroom. Ellie plops on the bed with you hugging your form and smiling like crazy. "Well Mrs claws I think thats a job well done." Ellie says with a small smirk. "Oh, so you're Santa?" She nods, proudly. "Why ofcourse, and you're my little hoe." That cocky grin on her face says it all. "You're trouble williams." You push her off getting onto your side of the bed. "Uh uh, that's Santa. To you." She smirks going to her side of the bed. "Night you." She smiles. "Night my lil helper."

"Mama, mommy!" You've been awoken. Watching as Ellie fully awakens. "Hey lil munchkin." She helps Autumn up onto the bed. "Its Christmas!" She beams with excitement. "I know! I think someone's paid you a lil visit down stairs. Why don't you go check it out and me and mommy will be down soon yeah?" She nods her lil head, letting Ellie set her down. You then roll over to look at her. "Merry Christmas baby." She leans down to kiss you when you reply. "Merry Christmas Els." You smile at her. "Better get up huh." You say, beginning to sit up. "Yes, or else the little monkey will bother us more." You laugh gently. "But she is very adorable."

Ellie nods heading down there with you. "When are we seeing grandpa, mama?" She looks up at Ellie. "Soon, but first! Let's open some presents." "Yeahhhh." Your daughter jumps with excitement. You go into the kitchen to prepare some hot cocoa for the three of you, bringing it out once you're done. "Thank you mommy." Autumn smiles at you. "That's alright love. Right let's get to opening presents."

You all had a fun filled morning opening presents, spending time with one another. You arrived at Joel's not too long ago. "Grandpa!" Your daughter squeals going to hug him. He picks her up. "Hiya kiddo!" He smiles, hugging back. He smiles at you and Ellie. "She wake ya up early?" You laugh at how he just knew. "Did she what." He looks at her gently setting her down but going to bend down to her level. "I got you a lil somethin princess." He smiles at her gently poking her tummy. She giggles. "Yayyy." You shake your head with a big smile. "Aren't you lucky!" She nods. "Thanks grandpa!" He stands back up going upstairs.

"Good manners." Ellie smiles at the small girl. Joel soon after comes back down with a pretty pink wrapped box. "Here you are." He hands it to her, her face lit up as she opens it. It was a cute little t-shirt saying 'grandad's girl' It was adorable and it was obvious she loved it. "Can I put it on now?" She smiles wide. "Can't say no to that." He then smiles. She goes into the bathroom to do so, coming down. "Tadaaa." She twirls. "That shirt is very true." He winks at her as she giggles. "Actually she's mama's princess." Ellie punches Joel's arm lightly. "I think I've won her heart more." He ruffles Ellies hair, walking away. "I'm her parent!" She huffs, you rub her arm. "You're crazy." She laughs putting her arm around your shoulder. "Yeah but you love me." "That i do."

[useless-catalanfacts]

Florenci Pla Meseguer "La Pastora", intersex antifascist hero

One of the most famous maquis (guerrilla fighters against Franco's dictatorship) is Florenci Pla Maseguer.

(thank you @neonbutchery for the suggestion)

He was born in a farmhouse in Vallibona, in the rural mountains in north of the Valencian Country, in 1917. His body did not fit the categories of either male nor female, so his family were left with the choice of what sex to register him as. His parents decided to register him as female so that he could avoid the mandatory military service.

He grew up in the farmhouse being a shepherd, and never went to school as was usual at the time for the rural working class. When he reached puberty, he developed male secondary sex characteristics.

When the fascists did a coup d'état in 1936, sparking the Spanish Civil War, he wanted offered himself as a volunteer to fight in the republican (=antifascist) army, and he thought that this way he would get officially registered as a man, but couldn't.

He kept dressing as a woman until he was 30 years old, but always felt a man. In his words (originally in Catalan in this interview in El Temps from 1988):

Interviewer: What did you think of your sexual condition? Did it cause you any worries?

Florenci: Problems...? Mainly because of the beard. They said I was half man and half woman, but I never felt a woman. I still remember the first time I dreamed I had an affair with a woman, when I was 13 (...)

I: Have you always felt a man?

F: Always, and I have always liked men's jobs and being registered as a man. In fact, when I walked the flock I carried a sarró [=a kind of bag], like men, and not a basket like women.

He kept wearing women's clothes until he was 30, when he joined the maquis. By then, it was 1947; the fascists had won the war in 1939 and, as a result, Spain and its occupied territories were ruled by Franco's fascist dictatorship, which persecuted the political dissidence, the national minorities (such as Catalans-Valencians) and their languages, and everyone who didn't fit the strict normative and nationalcatholic morale, prominently LGBTQI+ people and women who didn't limit themselves to the roles that the patriarchal society considered fit. The maquis were the armed resistance.

I: How did you change the flock for the maquis?

F: Since I lived in the mountains, I had sometimes talked to them. On a snowy night, three maquis took refuge in a house that was only inhabited in summer -El Cabanil- but one of them ran away -one who was from Morella- and everywhere he went, he spread the word, he snitched it. And the Civil Guard [=the regime's military police] followed their clue until they found them and burned the house down, because they were resisting. The next morning, they arrested El Cabanil's owner and I got nervous because I worked for him, and I decided to escape out of fear of being killed.

I: Was it because of the fear of reprisals or for the humiliations to which the Civil Guard put you through?

F: Yes, that determined it, too. That was on the morning of the same day they burned down El Cabanil, and it was "teniente Mangas" [="lieutenant" Mangas, which he says in Spanish], six guards and two militiamen, one from Torremiró and the other one from Herbesset.

I: And what did they do to you exactly?

F: They were curious to know how could a shepherd girl be half man and half woman. I had sold thrushes to the militiamen, and they told the Civil Guard about my anomaly. Teniente Mangas ignored all rules and made me take off my clothes, until their curiosity was fulfilled. And when they were done, they said "bueno, a hacer bondad" ["well, behave" in Spanish, as a way to say goodbye]. And I felt so much rage, so much helplessness. (...) I joined [the guerrilla] and I dressed as a man. There, I was a man like any other.

From then on, he lived as a man and named himself Florenci, though he was known with other nicknames like "Durruti" (after the famous anarchist leader) and, most famously "La Pastora" (the shepherd).

He ended up living in Andorra, but a journalist for the Spanish tabloid El Caso published about him, attributing to him the crimes committed by other maquis, even ones that he had never met. For this reason, La Pastora became famous in all of Spain and the police intensified the search. The Andorran police turned him in to the Spanish police in 1960, accusing him of robbery, banditry and terrorism. He was judged twice for the same crimes: a tribunal sentenced him to 40 years of prison and the other one sentenced him to death and later changed it to 30 years of prison.

He spent 17 years in prison. First, in a women's prison where the women (and him) had to wear very tight miniskirts. He was later moved to a men's jail, where the case was further investigated. The detective saw that there was no proof and that the story didn't match up, so it was impossible that Florenci had committed these crimes. He was freed with a pardon in 1977 and the detective officially registered him as a man.

Despite the slander published by the press, when he came back to his hometown Vallibona, everyone came down to the village from their farmhouses to greet him. He died in 2004, at 86 years old.

Nowadays, Florenci "La Pastora" is by far one of the most famous maquis, if not the single most famous one. He is talked about in songs, books and documentaries, and has become an icon of the antifascist resistance.

[artiststarme]

Steve’s No Good, Very Bad Day

This is something a little different from what I usually do so I hope you guys like it! Please leave your thoughts and title ideas in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Steve was just wrapping up at work one day, getting ready to run some errands when the kids stampeded through the door. He hardly even had time to sigh before Dustin was trying to negotiate for him to give them a ride to the community pool. 

“Steve, it’s eighty four degrees outside right now and the community pool is a mile away. If we bike there in these conditions, we could get heat stroke and die. What kind of friend would you be if you let us die when you could’ve prevented it? Since we all know you’re my best friend, you should give us a ride.”

“Dude, no. I have errands to run and I’m really not in the mood to babysit,” Steve said, shaking his head. He had better things to do than drive them around town all day. Like buying himself groceries and toilet paper, interesting stuff. 

“Please, Steve? We’re counting on you! Just give us a ride and we’ll leave you alone for the rest of the weekend!” Lucas bartered. 

“I’m hosting DnD at my house tomorrow,” Steve said, completely deadpan. 

“And we’ll leave you alone until then!” Dustin jumped in. “Please?”

“Son of a bitch, fine! Go wait by my car. Jesus Christ, you’re truly annoying. You know that, right?”

“Thanks Steve!” Dustin called and ran to wait by his car. 

Steve just sighed and shook his head. He didn’t sign up for this. He loves those kids but goddamn, he just wanted one day to himself after working customer service and faking smiles all morning. Nevertheless, he climbed into his car and cranked the AC before heading towards the pool. 

“So where’s Will, Max, and El? Are you guys hanging out with them today too?”

“Of course we are,” Dustin answered snootily. “They’re our friends.”

“They’re meeting us at the pool,” Lucas added. 

“Well, thank you Lucas for answering my question,” he turned to look at Dustin in the passenger seat. “You need to lose the ‘tude, Henderson. I’m doing you shitheads a favor. Tone it down.”

“Sorry,” Dustin muttered. 

They traveled the rest of the way in silence with only the soft tones of Simon and Garfunkel playing softly through the radio. When they turned into the pool’s parking lot, something felt off. Steve couldn’t put his finger on it. Nothing looked out of the blue but something was wrong, he was certain. 

“Stay in the car, I’ll be right back.” He opened his door and Henderson opened his as well. “Dustin, please. Just stay in the car for a minute.”

“Wha- but…”

“Dustin!” He gave him a confused look but shut the door regardless. 

Steve saw Max, Will, and El rounding the corner and ran up to them. They looked fine too but something still felt off. His stomach was twisting in warning and he didn’t know why. 

“Hey guys-”

“Steve? I didn’t know you’d be coming. We could’ve used the ride,” Max snarked.

“Listen, something feels off. Get in my car,” Steve told them. His heart started beating faster and he could feel sweat dripping on his forehead. His adrenaline was going crazy and he didn’t know why. 

“Steve, there isn’t enough room. We won’t fit-” Will tried to explain but he was cut off by the sound of gunfire. El threw up her hands to telekinetically redirect the bullets and Steve tackled Max and El to the ground. 

He lightly smacked his head on the cement but he picked himself up soon enough. When he looked around the parking lot, there were dozens of government agents facing El with their guns drawn. 

“Eleven. We are with a secret department of the United States government. If you come with us peacefully, we’ll let your friends live.” As the woman in charge was talking, Steve noticed a man standing behind El raise his gun to her head. 

“El!” He jumped up from the ground the pushed her away from the path of the gun as it fired. He felt a sharp, searing pain in his shoulder and then he was back on the ground. 

“Steve!” She looked over at him but he just shook his head with his teeth clenched. 

“Kill them!” He felt bad about ordering a kid to kill the fifteen agents, not for them but for her. She didn’t deserve to carry their deaths on her conscience. But as he saw all of their necks snap in unison, he couldn’t help but feel a little relieved. 

All of the kids surrounded him worriedly. The boys looked slightly nauseous while Max and El were looking at his shoulder in concern.

“Steve? Are you okay, buddy? I’m pretty sure you got shot.” Dustin told him gently, just as he had in Billy’s Camaro all those years ago. 

“El… you okay?” Steve asked her quietly. It was getting harder for him to speak. It felt like there was a fog over him that was pulling him under.

“Of course I am okay, Steve. You were the one that was shot,” she told him matter-of-factly. 

“Hmm, yeah makes sense. Fucking... figures,” and then he lost consciousness. 

~*~*~*~

When he woke up, it was to a bland hospital room. His head ached, his shoulder throbbed, and his throat was dry. As annoyed as he was with the situation, Steve was glad that he had been there for the kids. Who knew what would’ve happened if he hadn’t gotten there when he did. Would El have that man’s bullet in her head? Would Max and Will be dead due to a slew of bullets? He’s glad he would never have to find out. 

He was so lost in his thoughts of what could have happened that he didn’t notice Hopper stepping in until he spoke. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” Hopper hissed angrily. 

“What do you mean?” Steve asked in confusion. It almost seemed like Hopper was mad at him but he was pretty positive that he had no reason to be. 

“Why the hell were you taking the kids to the pool? You know that people are after her and you just took her out into the open? How could you do something so stupid?!”

Steve’s entire body flinched at his comment. “Hop, the kids were going anyway. The only reason I was there was to give Dustin, Lucas, and Mike a ride. The other kids were meeting them there. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You’re the adult, Harrington! You should’ve told them no and then none of us would be in this situation!” 

“Hop, I’m sorry. Next time I’ll be more careful. I know it must’ve been scary to see your kids like that…”

“You’re not my son!” He screamed at him in fury.

Steve’s blood turned cold. “Wh-what?”

“El is my daughter and your actions almost got her killed! And you put all the other kids in danger too. I don’t know if Joyce and I can forgive you for this, Harrington.”

Hopper shook his head derisively one last time and stalked out of the hospital room. Steve just laid there in shock. He didn’t know why Hopper was so mad at him or why he decided that Steve wasn’t worth any effort anymore. He didn’t know why he always pushed away his parental figures but this was three people now that he managed to disappoint so it had to be an issue with him. All he could do was close his eyes and cry at the unfairness of it all.

~*~*~*~

Between visits from Eddie and Robin, Steve was alone. The kids were banned from seeing him due to what Hopper had coined ‘reckless endangerment’ and it wasn’t like he had anyone else interested in visiting him. So it was a surprise when a chastened Hopper entered his room. 

“Hey kid, how are you doing?” He asked him softly. 

Steve just stared at him. He wasn’t sure where he and Hop stood after he screamed at him just a few days prior. 

“Look Steve, I want to apologize. I uh, I didn’t have all of the information and I blamed you when it wasn’t your fault. I know now that you were there to protect the kids and you did a great job other than getting shot and getting another concussion. I’m sorry.”

“I meant Will. When I said you were worried about your kids. I meant Will and El. I know you don’t consider me your son, why would you? Literally no one wants to be my parent so I get it-”

“Steve, I do consider you my kid. I shouldn’t have said that and I only did out of anger. You didn’t deserve that and I’ll make it up to you. You’re going to move into the house with us until you get better,” he promised him. 

Steve just shook his head though, “don’t worry about it. Eddie is going to stay at my house until I can use my arm. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Harrington, I don’t care if I have to kidnap your sorry ass. You’re staying with me, Joyce, and the kids until you’re better.”

“This is part of your apology, threats of kidnapping? What the fuck, Hop?” Steve exclaimed, absolutely perplexed. 

“Yeah, did it work?”

Steve huffed, “get me some orange Jello and I’ll consider it.”

They had a ways to go until they were back to where they were but they’d get there. Steve would forgive him in time and Hopper would forgive himself eventually too.

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[ruh--roh-raggy]

Heart Of Wires (Sundrop/Moondrop x DCA!OC Piper) Part 2

Hello hello! I am so sorry to all of my Monty fans for this chapter, I love him I promise but who better to play our villain this chapter? A couple warnings in this chapter, mostly just super fluffy and sweet as Piper and our Daycare Attendants get to know each other and start falling for each other. I hope you enjoy!! If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!!

WARNINGS: Monty is kind of a creep this chapter, he makes Piper uncomfortable, unwanted flirting, robot on robot violence, fighting, yelling, punching, mentions of workplace harassment, mention of a stalker, some swearing, I think that's it, if there's anything you would like me to add please let me know!

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 4,946

Part 1 - Part 3

Piper adjusts the strap of her messenger bag on her shoulder as she rides up the escalator. This was the first morning she wasn't greeted with Merry’s cheerful expression as she walked into the Pizzaplex. Piper had been working in the daycare for almost a month at this point, she didn't need anyone to show her how to get there, but there was something odd about the bubbly blond being missing from her usual post. Typically, when Piper arrived, she was busy handing piles of maps to the line of Mapbots that were going through their daily pre-shift checks, wishing each of them a Faz-tastic day as they sped off. The Pizzaplex made Piper feel uneasy, being the only sign of life in such a massive space didn't feel right. She guessed she never really noticed that feeling with a friend by her side. She jumped out of the way of Staff bots that whizzed by her, carrying new boxes of neon balls over to the mini-golf course, bags of paper cups to El Chip’s. “Piper!” She nearly jumped out of her own skin when her voice was suddenly called. Her head snapped to the side, finding Merry heading in her direction. Piper froze in place, happy to see her friend, but terrified by the sight behind her. It was important to note that Merry was not a small woman. She stood around 5 '11, her whole body was broad and muscular from years of doing strenuous, physical labor, being the lead service technician here Piper could only imagine how strong Merry was. She would be willing to bet that Merry could crush her head like an egg with her bicep alone. So, at the sight of the hulking green alligator that sauntered behind her, absolutely dwarfing Merry, Piper had to stop herself from bolting to the daycare in search of safety.

“So this is the new DCA.” The Gator, she thinks his name was Montgomery, rumbles. “You didn't tell me she was cute.” He gazes at Piper hungrily, lips pulling back into a smile of sharp teeth. Piper swallows thickly, goosebumps erupting across her skin as she holds his leering gaze. There was a soft ‘tink’ of Merry slapping the animatronic’s arm.

“Stop it.” She shoots him a warning glance. “Piper, this is Monty. I figured I'd introduce him ahead of time since he’s going to be swinging by the daycare for a party later.”

“Yeah, I remember Sun telling me about that.” Her eyes stay subtly trained on Monty, not wanting to let him out of her sight. She could see him roll his eyes under his yellow and purple star shaped sunglasses.

“I thought you said it was just going to be me?” He mutters to Merry.

“Sun is going to be there to show Piper the ropes, okay? I know the two of you don't always see eye to eye-”

“That's an understatement.” He scoffs.

“As I was saying,” she cuts him off with an annoyed glare. “Try to get along.” Her expression softens as her attention turns back to Piper.

“It should be an easy day, you just have to keep them on schedule.” She reassures you. She groans as her pager beeps on her belt, she unclips it and quickly reads the message. “If it wasn't bad enough… first you have a golf ball lodged in your shoulder joint-” she trails off grumbling to herself. “Come on, I have to get you back to Gator Golf.” She waves for Monty to follow her. “We’ll catch up later, I want to hear all about your first party.” She smiles warmly at Piper, clapping her on the shoulder as she passes by.

“Guess I'll be seeing you later.” Monty winks at her as he passes by, quickly snapping his jaws in her direction so that she would get startled. He chuckles at her expression, giving Piper one final wave before he follows after Merry. Piper makes the rest of the trip to the daycare in silence, the whole interaction with Monty not sitting right with her. She sits on one of the brightly colored wooden benches in the daycare’s lobby for a moment. Piper remembers other men she had issues with in the past who started out acting like Monty just had with her. Being backed into office corners, trying not to gag from their coffee stained breaths as they stood too close to her. It took her years to shake the ex coworker who had started stalking her after she rejected him. She shook the thought from her head. She discarded her messenger bag in the staff only room before flinging herself down the slide with growing familiarity. She clatters into the ball pit, letting the feeling of the cool plastic pressing into her skin ground her from a moment as she allows herself to lay there. She hears Sundrop’s long, even strides approach her.

“Good morning Piper!” He greets her cheerily, pausing when he sees the agitated look on her face. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just had a weird interaction this morning.” She explains with a sigh. “I think I just need a minute to level myself out.” When she spoke again Sun noticed the unmistakable tremor in her voice, she was nervous. He sits down on the edge of the ball pit, not wanting to risk overwhelming her by invading her space, he figured it would be best to let her decide whether or not she would come to him.

“Why does she look scared?” Moon’s voice rattles in the back of Sun’s head.

“Did something happen?” If he found out someone had hurt you-

“Have you ever met someone and the whole interaction just feels off?” Before he had a chance to fly too far off the handle she spoke up, the sound of her voice reminding him that this was about her, he needed to make sure she was okay before anything else. “I know I probably sound stupid, but just the way he looked at me… I don't know.” She glances to the side at the sound of plastic clattering against plastic. Sun was currently wading into the ball pit in her direction.

“Sunbeam,” he crouches down next to her, a look of concern painted across his features. Piper had to resist the urge to reach out for him, he was the only thing that seemed to provide any comfort to her at the moment. “I want to make you feel better, but for the life of me I can't seem to think of how I can do that.” He lets out a soft chuckle.

“He called me cute,” his entire body froze as he remembered Moon calling her pretty the first day they met. “It made me feel gross, I don't know how else to describe it.” He carefully retracted the appendage that rested closest to her, the temptation of taking her much smaller hand in his own flashing through his mind, but he knew that's the last thing she probably wanted right now.

“I’m sorry-”

“Sunny, why are you apologizing for something he did?” His eyes finally met hers, perfect blue little ponds that stood out like sapphires against her pale complexion.

“Well it's just, the day you started, Moon called you pretty. We just don't want you feeling gross about us, too.” He explains in an almost embarrassed tone. Piper sits up, stumbling slightly as the balls threaten to send her crashing to the floor beneath them. She maneuvers herself closer to him, putting herself directly into his line of sight.

“I need both of you to listen to me.” Her tone was firm, Sun had never seen her be so serious before. “Sunny, Moon, you are both wonderful. I look forward to coming here everyday because I get to see you. I don't think you're gross.” She chuckles as she reassures them. Her cheeks grew warm as she continued, “if anything I’m flattered that you think I'm pretty.” She smiles bashfully at them, causing him to feel that strange pang in his chest again. “He made me feel small… objectified…” She carefully chooses her words, not exactly sure what the passing comment from Monty made her feel but it was definitely somewhere in the neighborhood of what she was trying to articulate to Sun. “The two of you have never made me feel that way.” She finishes quietly, her eyes averting from his. He shifts slightly, wanting to pull her into a hug. Before he had a chance to agonize over asking for her permission or to just let it go, Piper made the decision for him. She pushes forward, wrapping her arms around his slim torso, his metal body cool against her burning cheeks. He thought he had blown a fuse for a second, he couldn't seem to think. But as he glanced down at her everything seemed to fall into place. Her body perfectly slotted against his, the soft smile that graced her lips. He embraces her tightly in return, her shoulders noticeably relaxing as if being close to him like this was enough to erase all the stress from her body.

“We won't let him make you feel like that again.”

Who Piper assumed was the birthday boy bounded up to Sun the second he crawled his way out of the ball pit. “Well hey there, Eli! Happy birthday!” The large animatronic scoops the boy up into his arms with ease. “This is Miss Piper, she’ll be here to help make sure your big day is extra special!” He gives Piper a shy wave that she happily returns. The boy's bright green eyes scan around the room.

“Where's Monty?” Piper caught Sun twitch slightly out of the corner of her eye at the mention of his name.

“He’s going to be coming by later when we go upstairs for cake and ice cream!” He explains, bouncing the boy on his hip as he carries him off to his group of waiting friends. The party itself was simple enough to handle; 15 kids, a few extra activities than the normal day to day routine, nothing crazy. Sun had decided to keep a close eye on Piper, the whole ordeal this morning obviously making her a bit anxious. He loved watching her interact with the kids, she truly was amazing at it. Sun couldn't help but smile as he watched her admire a paper pal she was being presented with, the face nothing but googly eyes.

“I need to apologize to her.” Moon rasps.

“She said there was no need to Moon, she’s not upset with us.” Sun responds.

“Still, I would like to say something.” He grumbles. “And I would like to find out who exactly she had an interaction with this morning.”

“Me too.” Sun glanced up at the clock, there was about an hour left until Monty was due to show up. “Here, spend some time with her before cake, I don't need you being more irritable than usual while he's around.” Sun makes eye contact with Piper, making the motion of opening a book with his hands to signal it was story time.

“Alright boys and girls, we have one more activity before it's time for cake.” She explains in her usual chipper tone, earning a chorus of cheers from the group. “We’re going to have spooky story time with Moondrop.” She lowers her tone as she continues, setting the slightly eerie mood that made all the kids giggle in excitement. She groups all of them up, leading them into the nap room and having them all get settled around a fake campfire that had been set up in the middle of the room before turning off the lights. Sun stepped into the dark room and shut the door, Piper heard the soft whirs and clicks as Moon took center stage. He turns to face her and gives her a bashful smile.

“Piper, I know you said I didn't have to apologize for calling you pretty-”

“And I meant that.” She cuts him off with a flustered giggle, not expecting it to bring it up to her face so suddenly. “From him it felt malicious, from you it was a sweet compliment.” She explains, trying to put him at ease. He offers her his arm, a routine she had gotten used to in order for Moon to easily guide her through the dark room. She rests a hand on his forearm.

“I hope you have your best scary story prepared, I feel like this is going to be a tough crowd.” He jokes, smiling at her soft laughter.

“Oh, I'm bringing my A-game, I hope you can keep up.” She winks at him. Piper takes her seat, Moon greeting all of the children before plopping down at her side. The small circle was filled with giggling as Piper and Moondrop took turns telling their spooky stories. “The old woman pulled the blankets over her head as the intruder's footsteps thudded in the hallway, where is my tooooooeeeee.” She draws out the word in a ghostly tone, earning squeals and laughter from the group. Piper pauses to laugh herself for a moment. “She hears her bedroom door creak open.” She mocks the motion of opening a door as she lets out a high pitched creak of her own. “The footsteps walk up to her bed, the old woman lays there as silent as possible. You have it!” She suddenly exclaims, earning more squeals and screams from the group that quickly dissolves into giggles. She feels Moon’s hand bump into the side of hers, she can't stop the blush that immediately spreads across her cheeks as her eyes land on his expression of pure adoration. There was a knock at the door before it was opened up, a staff member alerting you that it was time for cake. The children rushed out of the room in an instant, Moon and Piper chuckled at their excitement. Moon stood, offering Piper his hand to help her up from the floor. His fingers remained wrapped around her hand for a few moments after she had stood, his thumb running over her knuckles before he dropped it, clearing his throat and mumbling out an apology. The pair slowly walk up to the door, enjoying their last few moments together before Moon has to go back to sleep for the rest of the day.

“If that guy ever bothers you again I want you to tell us, we’ll make sure he won't bother you anymore.” His eyes flicker over her face, memorizing every curve of her features.

“Moon?” He hums at the sound of her saying his name. “Can I give you a hug?”

“Of course you can starlight, anytime.” He smiles softly as he carefully pulls her into his arms. Piper holds him tightly, knowing this would probably be the last time she would see him today. “Go have fun, I'll see you soon.” He whispers, keeping an arm wrapped around her as he slowly brightens the lights. She hears Sun take over, he jolts slightly as he realizes he's holding her.

“Piper,” he lets out a sigh of relief at the sight of her. “Did I hear right? It's time for cake?” She nodded, letting her arms finally slip from his waist.

“Cake just got brought in, then it's free play and we’re done.” She reiterates the rest of the schedule, knowing that sometimes when the two switch places they can get a bit frazzled.

“Let’s go have some cake then.” He places a large hand in between her shoulders as he leads her out into the main daycare, she squints slightly as her vision is assaulted by the bright colors as they leave the dimly lit room. The party room upstairs was somehow even more chaotic than the daycare on your busiest days. The cramped space was packed with children and parents alike, the kids running around at top speed, all hopped up on Fizzy-Faz and birthday cake. A little girl with braids ran up to her, hunching over slightly as she heaved from all the running.

“Miss Piper!” She yells cheerily. “We were wondering where you and Mr. Sun were!” She smiles at you. “Monty Gator’s here!” She juts a finger excitedly in his direction

“You should go say hello, I'm sure he'd love to meet you.” Piper responds with a grin of her own, trying to hide how nervous the new addition to the group was making you. The girl darts off, distracted by the swarm of her friends that had buzzed past her. Piper felt herself pale as she straightened up, realizing that Monty’s gaze was locked on her.

“Eli, it's time for presents!” You hear the birthday boy’s mom call. A smirk stretches across Monty’s features as he realized this was just the chance he needed to break away from the group to get you alone. All of the kids and parents gathered around one table as a staff member started bringing over all of his gifts.

“Well, well, well. Look who it is?” Her blood turns to ice in her veins at the sound of the deep voice that rumbles at her side. “What’s the matter sweetheart? I feel like I've been chasing you around the room all night.” He chuckles, taking another few steps closer to her. She shuffles to the side, keeping her eyes set straight forward on Eli.

“Monty, I'm trying to work.” She states flatly, knowing that wouldn't be enough to brush him off but she figured it wouldn't harm to try.

“So am I, I'm just making small talk with the newest staff member. Where's the harm in that?” She winces as he blows a hot puff of air from his nose against the side of her face. She hears the swishing of fabric, something grazes past her side but never fully touches her.

“Typical.” Monty scoffs. “Leave it to the birthday clown to always ruin my fun.” He growls. Piper finally dared to glance next to her, she caught sight of the familiar red and gold stripes and she realized that it was in fact Sundrop who had placed himself in between the pair.

“It doesn't seem like the situation is any fun if you're the only one enjoying yourself.” He snaps back.

“I don't know, I think Piper and I could be having a lot of fun if you hadn't gotten in the way.” Monty crosses his arms over his chest. Piper didn't miss the way Sun bounced his leg in agitation.

“Sunbeam, would you mind holding things down here with Brayden while I go have a chat with Monty.” Sun rests a comforting hand on her shoulder, nodding towards the staff member that looked bored enough to die.

“Sure, just be quick okay?” Her eyes darted between him and Monty nervously. Sun’s hands clenched into fists, the gator following him out into the hallway with a cocky smirk. The pair disappear into one of the other party rooms, leaving you to wonder just what exactly would happen now that they were out of the public eye.

Sundrop holds open the door for Monty, letting it slam shut behind him as he steps in the room. “It was you, wasn't it? You're the reason she was so upset this morning.” Sun jabs a finger in his direction. The two kept their distance from each other, standing on opposing sides of the room.

“Don't know what that little tart would be so upset about, I just gave her a compliment-”

“You made her uncomfortable is what you did.” Sun cuts him off, making the other animatronic snarl.

“What's the matter Sunny? Find a nice little piece of ass that can finally put up with your obnoxious personality and you suddenly want to play the hero, huh?” Monty chuckles.

“Don't call her that.” Sun responds through clenched teeth.

“And what are you going to do about it?” He laughs. “You gonna fight me for her? Make some big display about how you're a good guy who's going to take care of her?” Sun averts his eyes to the floor. Monty chuckles at his mannerisms, “pathetic, you can't even tell her, can you?” He starts to head towards the door, deciding he had enough of this conversation. “Just don't beat yourself up too bad when I inevitably win her over. A girl like that would look a hell of a lot better hanging off of my arm anyways.”

Piper’s head snapped in the direction of the loud slam against the wall from the next room, the party guests still too invested in Eli opening gifts to notice. She locks eyes with Brayden, nodding to the hallways and motioning she'd be right back. The first thing she heard as she exited the party room was the sound of two voices yelling at each other. She jogged to the room next door, peering into the window to see Monty and Sun grappling with each other, Sundrop at the obvious disadvantage. Piper slams against the door pushing into the room. “Well look who decided to show up.” Monty chuckles maliciously as he looks down at Sun.

“What a shame that your little girlfriend is going to have to watch me rip you apart limb from limb.” He snarls. Sun winds back his arm before his hand smashed against the side of Monty’s snout, leaving a pretty sizable dent in its wake. Piper screamed, slipping and slamming to the checkered tile floor as she scrambled for the phone. She rips the receiver off of the hook dialing the first number that popped into your head. Blood thundered in her ears, almost drowning out the sound of ringing as she prayed for an answer.

“Merry speaking, what can I-”

“They're fighting!” Piper yells into the phone, her voice cracking as she tries to fight back tears. “At the daycare! They're going to fucking kill each other!” She heard Merry slam down her phone as it went dead, no doubt rushing to try and minimize the damage. Piper couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene as she crawled backwards into the farthest corner from them, her whole body trembling. She watched in horror as Monty managed to grab Sundrop, lifting him clear from the floor before smashing him back down onto a table. He stands over Sun’s motionless form, grabbing him by the top of the head and hauling him to a sitting position.

“You need to remember your place, clown.” He sneers. “I'm at the top of the food chain in this place… Not… You.” Just before he had the chance to deliver a devastating blow to Sun’s head Merry burst through the door, rushing at Monty in order to tackle him to the ground. Luckily, at this point Brayden managed to quickly lead the guests to another location in the Pizzeria, leaving the rest of them to be the only ones left in the daycare. Merry seemed to have finally calmed down Monty enough to subdue him after a few minutes.

“Don't move a single muscle.” She warns, pointing down at him. “Piper, are you hurt?” She asks as she rushes over to Sun. Piper couldn't even respond, she just sat there staring at the animatronic who still wasn’t getting up. “Piper!” Merry tries again, a bit firmer this time. The redhead’s eyes snap to the blond, tears welling up in her waterline as the reality of what had just happened to her friend set in. Piper shakes her head softly, pulling her knees to her chest to make herself appear smaller. A wide eyed and breathless Brayden appeared in the door.

“How bad was it this time?” He starts, pausing and looking to the side when he catches a glimpse of Piper’s terrified form. “Are you proud of yourself?” He yells at Monty. Brayden shakes his head before cautiously approaching Piper. He kneels down a good distance in front of her. “Piper, why don't you come downstairs? We should get out of Merry’s way while she's working.” He speaks slowly, knowing it would take her a little longer to process what he was saying considering she seemed to be in a state of shock. Piper stands, slowly shuffling out of the room. She takes one last glance over at Sundrop. Merry had popped off a panel on the back of his head, a focused look adorning her features as she quickly works. The sight alone was enough to make Piper well up, tears sliding down her cheeks before she hurried from the room.

Piper laid on her side in the dark room, a pillow beneath her head and a blanket draped over her still shivering form as she stared straight ahead at the wall. Brayden had moved her down to the nap room, figuring it would be best if she didn't have to see him take Monty out of the room. She hears the soft creak of the large doors being pushed open, the opposing end of the room showing a thin sliver of light before the whole room is plunged into darkness again. Piper could make out the subtle whirs of Moon coming out, she resisted the urge to rush over to him and crush him in a hug. The last thing she needed right now was the embarrassment that would come from Moon seeing her cry. He lets out a sigh before his eyes scan around the room. He finds Piper curled up in a corner, facing away from him. His shoulders slump slightly at the sight of her, he never wanted to see her scared, the fact he was part of the reason almost made him want to leave without disturbing her.

“Piper?” He calls her name softly, taking careful steps in her direction. She sits up at his acknowledgement, the sound of her quiet sniffling made Moon’s chest hurt.

“Please tell me you're okay.” Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke.

“We’re alright.” He reassures her softly. “Some dents and dings.” He moves a bit closer to her.

“I thought you were gone.” Her voice quivered as it filled the otherwise silent space. Moon paused as it finally set in. She wasn't upset, she was worried. She watches the two glowing red dots, the only indication as to where Moon was in the room at the moment, study her from their distant position.

“Monty knocked my power supply loose when he threw me on that table.” He explains. She drops her head to her knees, the wave of relief that washed over her making her emotional all over again. This time, Moon didn't hesitate. His feet started to move before he even had a chance to process what he was doing. He sank to the floor, wrapping his long, slender arms around Piper. “I got you, Starlight. Let it out.” Piper didn't know how long she had been crying but she felt utterly wiped out by the end of it. The whole time Moon just held her, running a hand soothingly up and down her back. Moon gently takes her chin between his fingers, running his thumb over her damp cheek to wipe away any remaining tears.

“So I guess you probably figured out that he was the reason I was so off today.” She whispers, her forehead still resting against his chest. She didn't have it in her to meet his eyes with the state she was in right now. “I'm sorry.”

“What did you say to me this morning? Why are you apologizing for something you didn't do?” He cradles the back of her head gently for a moment, wanting her to know it was okay if she stayed like that, before retracting the appendage.

“Yeah, but you got hurt because of me.” She sniffles.

“Piper, I wouldn't change a single thing that happened to me today. Sure, Monty roughed me up a little, that oversized gecko only thinks with his biceps anyways.” The joke earned a weak chuckle from her. “There's never going to be a time where I'm not going to defend you with everything I have. I can be fixed. What matters to me is that you're okay, and that you know there's someone who's going to do their best to take care of you.” Moon nervously glances down at her, he sucks in a sharp breath when her pretty blue eyes meet his. “We care about you, Piper.” Her heart races in her chest at his words, she wouldn't be surprised if Moon could hear it beating.

The door is suddenly shoved open, Moon’s face spins around as Sundrop’s familiar golden points fold out. Piper’s eyes immediately land on the massive crater on his temple, Sun quickly lifts his hand in a failed attempt to hide it from her view. “Look at me, I'm okay.” Sun reassures her with a patient smile. Piper nods in response, trying her best to appear braver than she felt.

“Alright, let's get you all situated. You have a real mean left hook by the way.” Merry chuckles as she walks in the room, rifling through her tool box. She freezes when her eyes land on Piper’s puffy red eyes. “I'm going to kick the shit out of Monty for you personally.” She points at her, making Piper laugh.

“Is it okay if I stay while you work on him?” She asks softly. Merry notices Sun give her a small nod. Seeing the way Piper still clung to him, like he would disappear if she let him out of her sight.

“Sure thing, kid.”

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @twelvelevens @zalladane

[allthecanadianpolitics]

From treatment issues to car wash bans, accessing clean drinking water has remained a struggle in Iqaluit with one MLA saying a resolution is likely still years away.

Adam Arreak Lightstone, member of the legislative assembly of Nunavut for Iqaluit-Manirajak, spoke to CTV's Your Morning on Wednesday to discuss some of the ongoing issues facing the territory's capital.

It comes after the Iqaluit government announced in late May that its ban on using city-treated water for car washes remained in effect as part of an effort to be "water wise" and conserve the local water supply.

In April, the city of about 7,700 people, as of the 2016 census, said its water treatment plant would return to service after shutting down due to fuel contamination.

Although the federal government last year announced $214 million to fix the city's water infrastructure, Lightstone says it will still take time for that project to finish. [...]

Continue Reading.

Note from the poster @el-shab-hussein: Will the federal government make verifications that this fix is even being implemented? Are they going to oversee the refurbishing of the infrastructure? Will they literally do anything other than throw money at the problem and leave? Tagging: @politicsofcanada

[separatist-apologist]

no gods. no religion.

Just bad, bad decisions

Summary: Galactic Senator Elain Archeron knows her ex-fiance is financing a crime syndicate. All she needs to oust him is a little proof.

And, of course, a pilot.

The prompt: SENATOR ELAIN AND FLYBOY LUCIEN

Part 1/2 | read on ao3 (OR GIVE ME A KISS)

12k words, but this is STILL A DRABBLE

Elain Archeron required a pilot. 

Well—not technically a pilot, but a soldier, really. But someone who could fly better than most, who knew how to be discreet, and perhaps most importantly, could fire in a straight line. She didn’t know many in the naval academy, but she did know her sister. General Archeron, the woman who had turned down ruling a planet in favor of military service, was the exact kind of woman Elain had been hoping for when she’d gone to her sister.

“I need to know the true scope of the Nolan’s involvement,” Elain had whispered. Nesta could have sneered, could have narrowed her eyes and asked if this was just a personal vendetta. After all, she and Count Nolan’s son had been engaged. And it was known well enough she was angry about how things had ended.

She’d won her election and he’d left her, despite supporting her campaign publicly for months. And Elain had learned it had been, in her fiance’s eyes, nothing more than an amusement for him. He hadn’t expected her to actually win. He’d thought she’d lose dismally, marry him, and finally settle down on his country estate, raising babies while he did the true politicking.

Now they shared the same air in the Senate and things were tense. Sure, she’d been upset for the first couple months, but with the help of several friendly staffers, Elain had begun to think Graysen had done her a massive favor.

She hadn’t known just how filthy his hands were, or how well connected to criminal syndicates his fortune was. Nor did she want to believe he’d help terrorists ship deadly weapons, pumping the republic full of modified blasters capable of cutting through all but a lightsaber. Meanwhile, Graysen waxed poetic about ridding the galaxy of criminals who obeyed nothing but their own greed.

All the while funding the Hybern Syndicate. 

Elain just needed to know for herself. It was risky—not only was her life forfeit if one of Hybern’s mercenaries caught sight of her, but if Graysen learned what she was up to before she could compile an expose and rid democracy of grifters like the Nolans, she’d lose her seat, too. 

“What do you know about…” Elain looked down at the data pad in her hand. Nesta had sent over her recommendation that morning with a note to meet just outside the hangars. “Lucien Vanserra.”

Her elder sister's lips quirked in not quite a smile. Nesta was as severe as ever, hair braided in a crown against her scalp. She wore the Naval white and orange, vest snug to her chest. 

Holding up a hand, Nesta ticked off Vanserra’s qualities. “Discreet, quick on his feet, damn good pilot. That was what you wanted, right? He’s the best and he owes me a favor. Plus, he’s afraid of me, which means he won’t take unnecessary risks when it comes to your life. Do what he says, alright El? No matter how…arrogantly…he barks those orders?”

That didn’t sound promising. 

“Does he know the mission?”

Nesta’s eyes swept over the massive, open hangar with distaste. To Elain, everything was running smoothly—pilots, mechanics, and other professionals bustled about, readying a wide array of ships to both fly in and out of port. A large viewport betrayed air command, setting courses and waving ships in and out. Elain could still recall growing up on Naboo and the advisors who used to joke there was no pleasing little Nesta Archeron. She’d been bred to be a Queen, so why wouldn’t she act any different? To Elain, Nesta’s straight spine and her unwillingness to accept anything but perfection always made sense.

What hadn’t was a moment of weakness—a man, sent from the Republic to meet the middle Archeron, diplomat to diplomat. Cassian Alonso was more rebel than anything. A man already when Nesta had only been nineteen. They’d taken one look at the other and that had been it. Elain still didn’t understand it a decade later. Nesta hadn’t wavered, though. She’d married Cassian and joined the Republic.

And now, instead of Queen, she was General Archeron. Elain wondered if her sister didn’t see them the same way. 

“He knows enough,” Nesta finally said, cutting through Elain’s musings. 

There was no opportunity to interrogate her sister further. They halted before a rather run down ship that seemed as if it must be fast, and able to take a beating. Sleek and pointed, with a little orange fox painted just over the ship's hull, Elain thought it was better than nothing. Far shabbier than her usual vehicles, and yet she knew she was in no position to complain. Not when her plan was going off without a hitch and someone was willing to help her.

A pair of legs hopped to the platform, landing with a grunting oof. The man who rose was much younger than Elain had been imagining in her head. He couldn’t have been two or three years older than her. Maybe as old as Nesta, but likely not by much.

“General,” he said respectfully, offering up a dimpled grin. He was a beautiful man despite the trio of scars running over his left eye, which had been replaced with a rather lovely golden cybernetic. The other was a nice shade of russet brown, flecked with just enough gold to catch the light.

Auburn red hair was half braided off his handsome face, allowing the rest to spill over broad shoulders wearing the same red and white vest her sister wore. She hoped he didn’t plan to keep his uniform, given how immediately noticeable it was. He seemed like the sort who could blend in under the right conditions, although maybe that was just wishful thinking. 

“Vanserra,” her sister replied, ignoring how Lucien’s eyes immediately fell on her. Some of his easiness faded as he, too, drank her in. Obviously she wasn’t going to wear her heavy skirts, nor was she going to sport the elaborate updo she currently wore. It wasn’t like they were leaving today. Still, Elain couldn’t help but fidget under his disapproving gaze, her fingers crushing the velvet of her blush colored dress. 

“My sister Elain.”

His smile returned, bright and hot like the sun. “Senator, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she replied stiffly. 

He knew. From the way his expression sharpened, Elain knew he knew. Maybe not all of it, but he knew, just like Nesta had when Elain had first dumped all this in her lap, that Elain was still chasing after Graysen. She wanted to scream, to get on the holonet and tell the whole damn galaxy that she was over it. Graysen humiliated her on a grand stage and now the whole galaxy would forever believe she was nursing a broken heart.

Elain wouldn’t have taken him back even if he’d begged. He had no integrity, no heart, and if she was right about his underworld dealings, no soul, either. And what did that say about her, that she’d slept beside him for so many nights unaware the man she’d wanted to spend the rest of her life with was a rotting cesspit of greed?

This wasn’t the place to ruminate on that. 

“Nine am sharp, then?” he said, unaware of how much relief his words provided. Who cared if he thought her merely a scorned woman so long as he did what she wanted. Elain didn’t expect this man to understand. 

“You got it,” she agreed, offering up her most practiced smile. His own faltered for a moment, his eyes taking on a strange, glassy quality. 

“Vanserra!” her sister snapped. His head bowed, cheeks warming as pink crawled up his neck. Elain understood she had been dismissed and with a sunny smile and a wave to her sister, vanished out of the hangar without tripping on the hem of her dress. 

Tomorrow. Elain would finally repay Graysen for what he’d done. Maybe she’d always be scorned, but at least she wouldn’t be the one sitting in a Republic prison. 

And for someone who loved compromise, that was the best Elain could ask for.

LUCIEN:

“That’s your sister?”

Lucien looked up at his General, hoping his expression conveyed his reproach. He’d been imagining someone more like Nesta or Feyre…not…not….kriff. Elain Archeron was easily the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life. And when she smiled? Gods, but Lucien didn’t think this mission was a good idea anymore. All the things he loved when accepting an off the book mission—risky, unsanctioned, likely to end in death—seemed unreasonable in the light of Elain’s beautiful face.

“Keep it in your pants,” General Archeron snapped, though Lucien swore Nesta’s silvery blue eyes were filled with amusement. “She has that effect on everyone.”

Yeah, he bet. Lucien might have told Nesta to find another pilot had he not been sure that man would have fallen in love with her, too—and that was unacceptable to Lucien. Especially when he knew Nesta was likely to send her stealthies pilot and Azriel wouldn’t waste an opportunity like Elain Archeron.

“She seems…” like my future wife, though Lucien didn’t dare say that out loud. “Green.”

“She’s a junior Senator. Just…do this for her, okay?” Nesta said with an air of resignation. “I don’t expect much to come from it, but this is the liveliest she’s been in months.”

“Right,” he agreed, his mind racing. He hadn’t paid much attention to the dust up when Nolan and Archeron had split. Amiable, that was what he remembered. Clearly not if Elain was trying to link her former betrothed to a crime syndicate. Ballsy, too. Lucien liked that. If Elain was right, he hoped to be the pilot who helped take a corrupt Senator down. That sort of thing all but guaranteed him a promotion.

And a beautiful wife, if you’re smart about it. 

Lucien was a strategic man. Lucien was a smart and patient man. And he wanted very few things out of his life, but he knew the minute Elain Archeron smiled at him, that he wanted her. Even if it made an enemy of Nesta and even if it meant a lifetime of rubbing elbows with politicians.

Lucien was willing to sacrifice for her.

It was an exhilarating feeling. 

“Nothing is to happen to my sister. No matter how persuasive she is or what promises she makes you Commander. Remember that my sister has been trained from birth to be a politician. She could convince anyone to do anything she asks with a few smiles.”

Yeah, Lucien believed that. 

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Lucien said, hoping he sounded convincing and not desperate. “I spent a month with Feyre, remember?”

Nesta was polite enough not to remind Lucien how he and Feyre had managed to set an ancient estate ablaze under his watchful eye. Still, she let him go with only minimal threats, which Lucien thought spoke to his skill. There were likely very few people Nesta Archeron entrusted her sisters to, and he’d been tasked with both. That filled Lucien with warm pride, buoying him long enough to make traversing the Coruscant markets for all the creature comforts a Senator was likely accustomed to.

Lucien’s last assignment had been a month with a Jedi. That, he thought, had been far easier given the man wanted very little. Lucien suspected Elain wouldn’t be content to live off supply bars and sleep on the cold, durasteel floors. 

Lucien spent more money than he might have, and when he was finished, submitted his receipts through his datapad to Nesta for reimbursement. If the amount irritated his General, she didn’t say—all Lucien’s credits had been returned before he made it back to The Fighting Fox. 

Lucien set his things away, clearing space in the small Captain’s quarters for Elain. He’d make do in one of the swinging hammocks just outside the cockpit. The room he offered her was small—the bed took up most of the available walking space, and the closet was really three drawers stacked atop each other. She had a viewport, though, and a short walk to the shared ‘fresher. Lucien even swapped out the soap dispensers for something nicer, something a shopkeeper assured him women loved. 

With nothing left to do, Lucien kicked his boots up over the dash, pulled his data pad from his pocket, and decided to do some recon. All good missions started that way…and if it meant he got to study his soon-to-be wife, well, all the better for him. 

Lucien learned several things about Elain Archeron. She was a spit-fire. Feisty and passionate all under the demure, beautiful face that had stunned him into silence for perhaps the first time in his life. He got caught up watching speech after impassioned speech, occasionally rewinding to listen to a particular turn of phrase a second time. 

And Graysen, the Senator supposedly financing the Hybern Syndicate, was every bit as clever as the woman he’d let go. Lucien studied him, too, though he was far more critical than he was of Elain. Lucien, by virtue of growing up with an elder brother who was, perhaps, one of the wiliest politician’s the galaxy had ever seen, knew what a liar looked like. Graysen was adept at saying so much without saying anything at all, and yet it felt good. 

And, though it felt a little like betrayal, he watched Graysen’s holovid where he announced the end of his relationship with Elain. 

Amicable. Lucien remembered that from memory, and yet by his count, Graysen stressed it no less than four times in the span of fifteen minutes. Smiling like too-white teeth, he hardly looked sorry at all. I wish her nothing but the best.

Elain had opted to say nothing at all, which had allowed the media to run roughshod over her. Perhaps she’d figured there was nothing she could say that wouldn’t make her seem bitter and had chosen to give the media nothing to work with. No words to pick apart, no lines to read between. Just Elain, several days later going to work with clear eyes and a bright, practiced smile. 

If she suffered, she didn’t show it. Lucien wondered what had fractured them. Maybe he’d find out. By Lucien’s estimate, they’d be together, conservatively, for a month. With the time it would take to get out to the outer reaches from the inner core and then the recon, the data collecting, and whatever else Elain hoped to achieve, a month assumed perfect circumstances.

It assumed nothing would go wrong. Lucien had never worked a mission like that. They’d have plenty of time to get to know one another, to impart painful truths and perhaps, if he was exceptionally lucky, plan a wedding.

Though, he wasn’t counting on that last one. 

Still, the thought put him to sleep in his hammock, tucked away in the obnoxiously loud hangar. He slept like a babe, used to the clanking and the shouting of military life, and woke an hour before Elain was supposed to arrive.

It had occurred to Lucien that the one thing he knew Elain and Graysen had in common was their impeccable sense of fashion. He could dress well, too, though too often what was the point? He was covered in oil half the time, and the other half splattered with blood or goo or some other substance he preferred not to think about. 

There was no point putting on his nicest pair of robes—the pair such a deep, forestry green that it made his skin seem to glow—but there was wisdom in digging out a pair of well-fitted brown pants and an equally tight blue shirt with the quarter sleeves.

Just so she could see the black inked tattoo on his forearm. The one that denoted his rank in solid black bars. No one called him Commander, but they sure as hell knew he was Commander Vanserra when they saw those six black bars. He wanted her to know that he was ambitious, same as her. 

He rebraided his hair after carefully pulling out the tangles, and shaved just enough to leave the stubble behind. It was rugged, he decided, and women generally liked that. At least, the ones he was in frequent contact with did. Why shouldn’t Elain, too? 

Lucien was buckling his belt low over his hips, weapons laying out before him, when he heard the punctual, polite, rapping knock on the door. He was grinning like a fool and he knew it, and still he couldn’t help himself. Lucien pulled his boots on and met her just outside the hangar.

She was a vision with a bag at her feet and her hair pulled in a neat chignon just at the nape of her neck. He suspected this was Elain Archeron’s attempt at looking nondescript, as if the hundreds of credits she’d spent on that deep blue cloak pulled over her beautiful face was anything but a massive neon sign that screamed wealth. 

She was in a white jumpsuit that hugged every inch of her—not that he was looking. 

“Ready?” he asked, leaning against the open door as the ramp slowly descended. Elain didn’t seem convinced of him, but that was fine. 

“As I’ll ever be,” she admitted, teeth sinking against her full, bottom lip. Lucien stepped aside, one hand outstretched to take her bag. 

“You’ll be in here,” he said, closing up behind her before gesturing for her to follow. Elain hesitated when she saw that little room, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“We’ll be sharing?” she asked, her cheeks the prettiest shade of pink. It was Lucien’s turn to hesitate. If he said yes, he could force them into close quarters.

“No,” he replied, thinking it was better to give her some space. “I’ll be just outside. It’s not much, but it's better than nothing, don’t you think?”

Relief stole over her expression. “Yes,” she admitted as Lucien shoved her little bag inside. “I’m surprised there is enough space for a private room at all on this thing.”

“It was my only requirement when picking it out,” he admitted with a sly grin. In his mind, he was already upgrading to a nicer—albeit more expensive—model. One with a room big enough for them both to move around in. He assumed a Senator was used to yachts, but maybe she could get used to something smaller in exchange for speed. 

One thing at a time. 

He expected her to make a small fuss. To hole up in that room while he got them ready, but Elain merely followed after him, up the ladder and into the cockpit where she took the co-captain’s chair. He liked the sight of her there, hood down and wide eyed with excitement. 

That’s my girl, he thought, practically giddy.

“How does it all work?” she asked, watching him carefully flip switches. 

“Maybe I’ll show you some day,” he said, not wanting to make himself obsolete to her just yet. “But not today. Buckle up, princess.”

If he’d said that to either of her sisters, he’d have been shot in the face for it. But Elain merely rolled her eyes and did as she was told. 

Unaware she was a princess—his princess. 

And he’d do anything she asked.

ELAIN: 

“How long before we get to our outpost?” Elain asked, already bored. They’d been zooming through space for the better part of a day. Realistically, she knew it was going to take five days of non-stop, lightspeed travel. And yet part of her hoped Lucien knew some magical shortcut that would get them there by the end of the night.

Long legs stretched up over the dash, his datapad held in one of his broad, strong hands, Lucien Vanserra didn’t look her way.

“Five days,” he replied, thumb sliding over his screen. Elain sighed and Lucien finally looked over at her. It was an effort not to rake her eyes down his muscular body again. She didn’t think he’d appreciate being ogled when he was merely trying to fulfill his duty to her sister. Had Nesta chosen him specifically for how appealing he was? Or was Lucien really the best? 

“Yes, princess?” he drawled in that deep, warm voice of his. Elain suppressed a shiver. It had been so long since any man had made her feel anything but revulsion that she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. 

“I’m bored.”

That was enough to bring back his dimpled smile and to convince him to turn off his data pad. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell me what this little journey of ours is about then. The whole version,” he added pointedly.

So he wanted to know about her break-up, then. Elain swallowed some of her bitterness.

“Well. I guess if we started at the beginning then I’d say that I met Graysen Nolan back on Naboo during Feyre’s first campaign. I was helping her run it as her official diplomat to the Republic, and Graysen had been sent to get a feel for her. She was young, and everyone expected Nesta to run, but she’d recently run off with Cassian…it was a mess.”

He chuckled, but said nothing. It was invitation enough to continue.

“Father was…unwell,” she said, thinking that was the most charitable way to describe their fathers rapid spiral into misery. “And mother was dead. Nesta was gone and Feyre busy…I was just…”

Stars, but Elain hated admitting this to herself, let alone the beautiful man with the teasing eyes.

“Lonely?” he guessed.

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “And Graysen was nice. It was a whirlwind, truthfully. I never had a moment to catch my breath. Feyre was elected and Naboo needed a new Senator and Graysen convinced me I ought to run and Feyre was begging me to…so I did.”

Elain swallowed hard. “When he asked me to marry him, I think he expected I’d drop out. And then, when I won, well…What he wanted was someone more domestic.”

“Okay,” Lucien said, still smiling though his eyes were tight. “I wasn’t asking about your breakup, for the record, but I guess it’s good to know Nolan is as much of an asshole as I always suspected. I assume this is why you want to go on this mission? Revenge?”

Well kriff. “No,” she said, a shade too defensive. “It’s been eight months. I’m not still…I don’t miss him. There was a bill up for vote in the Senate last month and Graysen waged war to kill it in a committee. I couldn’t figure it out—of course he comes from money, but who doesn’t know that at this point? His rivals point it out every change they get. Why wouldn’t he want to share who donates to his campaigns? It seemed like such a nothing bill, easily passed. And it made me start digging. I still have all his old passcodes,” she admitted sheepishly, thinking Lucien would think her low for snooping.

His real smile returned. “Clever.”

“He must have figured it out because he changed them, but I was in long enough to see a lot of his money leaving accounts for offshore banks in planets in the Outer Rim. And money came in, too—in huge sums, all unaccounted for. I did a little digging, and it turns out the First Raider Bank is used exclusively by the Hybern Corporation. And Hybern—”

“Deals in black market weapons,” Lucien supplied for her, rubbing at his stubbled jaw. Elain’s satisfaction returned.

“Exactly. I know I don’t have a lot to work with, but if I had some proof I could remove him from his seat and the Republic could have the transparency it so badly needs.”

Lucien, to his credit, didn’t add what anyone else would have—and your revenge. Elain wasn’t denying that was part of it. She’d loved Graysen. Believed the best in him, even when her sisters thought her stupid and naive. And he’d not only abused that trust, but he’d been lying to her the whole time. Sometimes, when Elain truly wanted to punish herself, she imagined what would have happened when she learned. How humiliated she would have been.

And how trapped. 

Instead, Lucien tilted his head toward her, body still facing the neon blue viewport and the blurred stars that illuminated the entire cockpit in blinding, burning white. “I’m in this until the end, princess.”

She wondered if he called her that because, technically, she was a princess. When she returned home, everyone addressed her as such—though no one called Nesta princess. They called her General. Elain didn’t mind it because Lucien didn’t make it seem mocking. 

“Well,” she said, suddenly embarrassed. “I should…I’m going to head to bed, if that’s alright with you.”

Lucien’s gaze returned to his data pad. One had waved for her to go, revealing six black lines inked against the skin of his forearm. Commander. 

He seemed awfully young for a rank so prestigious, and hardly showy about it like she might have expected. Nesta hadn’t said anything about it, either. Lucien, unaware of where her attention now lay, was fully immersed back in his holovid. 

Everyone she knew had managed to achieve such great, important things. Feyre was Queen of Naboo, her sister a General. Even this pilot, Commander Vanserra. And what was she, besides a joke? 

Elain climbed the ladder back into the hull, listening to the pleasant hum of the ship as she made her way back to the closet Lucien called a bedroom. Elain was used to shuttles and yachts with private ‘freshers and enough space to stretch out her legs and pace. Lucien’s private quarters housed a bed that might have fit them both if they laid chest to back.

An appealing idea, given the general shape of him. 

And likely totally inappropriate given he worked for her sister and this was just a job. Elain wasn’t sure she was even in the right space to indulge him. Something about the way he moved his body and the casual arrogance that radiated from him made Elain think Lucien wouldn’t say no if she invited him back into bed.

And he wouldn’t look at her twice when they were back on Coruscant. He’d get to say he’d been with the naive senator and she’d…she’d be humiliated twice. That was enough to convince Elain to carefully fold up the clothes she’d brought, dig out a towel and her night dress, and pad down to the equally tiny ‘fresher.

She knew she’d have to be quick on a ship this small. The water tank likely couldn’t support a full forty five minute break down beneath scalding hot water and Elain refused to rinse soap from her hair in the cold.

She felt a moment of wicked delight when she pushed the shampoo dispenser and found her favorite honey scented soap plunk into her hand. Had Nesta told Lucien, or did they just so happen to prefer the same? She’d ask him later—once she wasn’t in the shower, at any rate. 

Elain stepped out in a short, ivory night dress and her hair dripping down her bare arms as she tried to towel dry her wild hair. She’d wondered if Lucien would be sleeping in his pilot's chair and found a hanging hammock just between the ladder up to the cockpit and her own bedroom.

And Lucien, shirtless and staring at the water she was dripping all over his floor. This wasn’t a yacht, she reminded herself. This was his ship that had likely cost him a year's salary and she was careless.

“Sorry,” she said as Lucien stepped forward, one hand outstretched when she tried to toss the towel to the floor. 

“No,” he replied, his eyes unfocused. “No, you’re fine. Just…watch your step, princess.”

He never looked back up at her, which gave Elain the briefest opportunity to look at him without being caught. Lucien was…wow. Shirt gripped in one hand, the other still hovering in midair, while the rest of his body was lovingly carved by whatever god blessed pilots. Elain had the strangest urge to cross the gap between them and trace the muscled grooves of his golden brown skin with her fingertips.

Or her tongue, depending on his preference. 

But he wasn’t looking at her, his cheeks inflamed, and Elain suspected he was uncomfortable. So she offered him a smile he couldn’t see, murmured a good night, and vanished behind the closed door of the bedroom, cursing herself for making things weird between them on the first day.

It certainly did bode well for the rest of their mission.

LUCIEN:

He couldn’t sleep. Not with the image of that very shreddable nightdress clinging to Elain’s body, made sheer by the sheet of dripping curls tumbling over her shoulder was burned just behind his eyes. And he’d been shirtless, not that she’d noticed or cared. She’d assumed he was upset about the water, unaware Lucien was screaming at his stupid, useless cock to remain as it was instead of thickening with interest.

Like it was now, pulsating against his thigh and urging him to go and check on her, the utter bastard. Lucien warred between his rationality and his cock driven need to open the door and see how she was doing. In his mind, her hair would be a wild halo of curls around her beautiful face and those big, brown eyes would be half lidded from sleep. Maybe the tiny nightdress would have ridden up her hips and she’d pull at the blanket so he could slip in.

And Lucien would part her legs and—

“Stop it,” he hissed, refusing to even touch himself. He didn’t want to give in, like his cock was a living thing that could be rewarded and not a manifestation of his own aching need. He could go in the ‘fresher and handle his erection and it made him feel like a pervert. So Lucien remained in that swaying hammock, eyes closed as he ran through drills and listened to the gentle hum of the engine. Eventually his cock grew bored and deflated and Lucien fell asleep, too. 

He woke to the smell of food winding around him, filling his lungs and reminding him he was not alone. Lucien shifted, checking that he was still flaccid before opening his eyes. Elain had set up shop in the tiny little kitchen, if it could even be called that, frying eggs and panna cakes with a cheerful smile. 

“Another day,” she said when he all but fell from the hammock. Lucien flung a shirt over his chest quickly before making his way toward her. Elain eyed him hopefully, but the answer was unchanged.

“Four days,” he said in a sleep heavy voice. Elain’s smile threatened to drive him to his knees though he was appropriate enough. Maybe his smile bordered on sultry, but she didn’t seem to mind.

They went on like this for three days—sharing little bits of information or playing games where Lucien learned Elain had the most infectious laugh he’d ever heard in his life. He slept better than he ever had, despite the knotted rope digging in his skin. Maybe that was her, too, because Lucien had never had to fight his cock for the right to use his own blood the way he had been recently.

The day before landing, Lucien pulled up a holomap. “Florrum,” he said, letting Elain drink in the arid, desert planet now hovering before them. He couldn’t picture the pristine woman sitting beside him trekking through the desert, and yet the determined slant of her mouth told Lucien she would be. 

“We’ll land in the outpost tomorrow afternoon,” he said, bringing up the image of the oasis Doshar outpost was situated against. It was deceptively lush, though Lucien knew from his own research harsh sandstorms often wrecked the pretty greenery and made the sparkling water undrinkable without a filter. “Spend a day getting our bearings and plotting our course. I’ll need a little time to track down a speeder and we don’t want to go charging in. It might be worth your time to chat up the locals…see what they’ve heard.” Elain bit the inside of her cheek, nodding. “So maybe two days at the outpost.” She glanced over at Lucien before reaching into the pocket of the nice dress she wore. His heart stumbled at the sight of the plain, silver band now resting in her open palm.

“We’ll need a backstory,” she said, swallowing as he plucked that ring from her. Lucien slid it over his finger, admiring the way it looked. He’d have to wear it around his neck when he was back on Coruscant, but maybe another tattoo, inked where the ring would go? Beside him, Elain slid her own simple band over a slim finger before curling them into a fist. 

“Married,” he said with dizzying delight. “Good idea.”

“You could say you’re looking for work,” she suggested, sliding a hand over her flat stomach. Lucien’s heart pounded as she continued, “And I’ll say I’m looking for a place to settle for the time.”

Children. Because they were going to have a family and— “Good thinking,” he managed, unable to look her in the eye. “Smart.”

“You probably shouldn’t go around telling them you’re Commander Vanserra—”

Lucien’s whole body went achy and tight at the sound of his title coming from her lips. 

“So I thought we could be Rose and Fox.”

“Rose…and Fox…” he repeated, still fixated on Commander Vanserra. Commander Vanserra and Senator Archeron, married with three—no five—children, settled on Naboo after—

“Lucien? Would you prefer something different?” she asked, her voice timid and soft. Right. Pretend to marry her for now, really marry her when they arrived back home. 

“Fox is great,” he said, flashing her an easy smile. “Anything else I should know?”

A flush crawled up Elain’s neck. “No, I…that’s all I have. I didn’t want you to think…”

Lucien reclined back in his chair, the image of Florrum forgotten. “Think what? That you’re trying to trap a gorgeous guy like me into marriage?”

“No!” she exclaimed, immediately defensive. Lucien needed to get out of her breathing space for a minute or he was about to admit he wanted her to trap him. Despite being strangers, and despite the attraction simmering just beneath his skin, Lucien wouldn’t have told her no if Elain had said they needed to get married truthfully, nor would he have freed her from it once they were finished.

“Sure,” he replied with a wink. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

And though it was a flippant comment, he’d accidentally touched an old wound. Jes, who’d wanted to get married right until she didn’t, which had been, conveniently, the day before their planned wedding. Lucien considered, as he stood with a grin he knew didn’t meet his eyes, that he rushed into things.

He was always all in. Hadn’t he sworn he wouldn’t be hurt again? That he’d be more cautious next time, that he’d spent months—years, even—making sure the next woman loved him more than she loved anything else. That she, at the very least, loved him the way he loved her. Elain was none of those things and yet here he was, planning a whole future with her all the same.

His boots hit the bottom of the hold when he heard her say his name.

“Lucien!” Elain breathed, unaware he’d hurt his own feelings. Still, Lucien remained still, listening to the sounds of her carefully climbing down the ladder behind him. “If I upset you—”

“You didn’t,” he said, adopting an easy smile she thought she saw right through. “Trust me, there are a million worse things than being married to you.”

She didn’t smile back. “You’re the only one who thinks so,” she said, and Lucien wondered if they didn’t have matching wounds. He’d foolishly forgotten about Graysen. 

Lucien couldn’t help himself, turning to reach for that pretty, heart-shaped face. “Lucky me,” he murmured, letting her see some of his desire. Not all of it, but enough to settle her—to let her know he meant it. 

She sucked in a soft breath through her teeth. “Lucien—”

“Save it,” he replied, not wanting to hear her protests. Exhaling, Lucien dropped his hold. “Get to know Florrum before we land. I’m gonna…”

He was gonna what? They were practically on top of each other. He couldn’t escape her, not when she occupied his bed and all the private space on their little ship. Still, Elain waited, her chin tilted just enough that he could have reached for her again and kissed her. She might have liked it, too, if Graysen Nolan was the last pair of lips that had touched her.

“...use the ‘fresher,” he finally said lamely. 

Was it his imagination, or did some of the air deflate from her body? Elain murmured something polite and the pair vanished, getting about as far from the other as they could without flinging themselves into hyperspace. Lucien sat in the ‘fresher longer than was polite, head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. 

Get it together, Vanserra, he ordered himself. He knew he wouldn’t, just like he knew when he climbed back up into the cockpit and Elain turned in her chair, smiling up at him, that he was in so much trouble. A face like that…surely there had to be some other reason for the demise of her engagement? Did Graysen imagine he could do better? 

Lucien was certain no one could do better than Elain Archeron. 

ELAIN:

They landed at dusk, kicking up sand all over the viewport. Elain didn’t care, though Lucien frowned at the sight, eyes narrowed. She was practically giddy with anticipation, ready to put her boots on the ground and finally—finally—prove she was more than just some pretty nobody from Naboo. Overshadowed by her far more powerful, more interesting sisters. This was her shot, and the only one she’d get. 

Lucien had convinced her to ditch the cape, saying it was far too conspicuous in a place that seemed drenched in poverty. He was right, she reflected, and she might have told him so had they both not stepped onto the hangar so Lucien could immediately begin arguing with someone about cleaning up his ship.

Fussy. 

She wandered toward the edge, fingers curling over the railing that overlooked the outpost below. The image Lucien had shown her made it seem picturesque, but reality was far less kind. The grass was more brown than green, clinging to the sandy as an unforgiving wind battered it about. Everything had a fine layer of red sand dusting it—even the giant yellow sun dipping in the sky cast a hazy, bloody glow. 

Lucien’s presence at her side told Elain he’d managed to haggle out a price for fuel and repairs that he could live with. Was Nesta financing this trip for him, or had it come out of his own pocket? Lucien hadn’t asked her for credits which seemed unusual. Even Graysen had often opened his palm in the name of fairness.

“C’mon,” Lucien said, handing Elain a heavy brown jacket that smelled of smoke and oil. “Try not to breathe in too much of the air. I’ll get us some scarves in the morning.”

And that was that. He kept a hand on her back and his body angled as if something lurking in the sand was going to come running at them. Elain very much doubted anything would, though she had read that gundarks made their home on Florrum, though typically higher up on the cliffsides she could just make out in the distance. 

No sand monsters. Just sand, which was its own monster given how it was filling her boots despite the elevated walkway that wound toward town. Lucien seemed unphased and even the cruel wind somehow avoided his beautiful face, as if the world recognized he was special somehow. 

Or perhaps too beautiful to mar, which Elain agreed with. The galaxy had so few lovely things to start, it would be a shame to harm him further. Elain still wondered what had happened to his eye—who had wounded him? And why did it make her so angry? Elain had been trying to work up the nerve to ask him without making him feel self-conscious about it. The scars added something to his beauty, told a story of someone brave and clever—a survivor. 

Unaware of her own admiration, Lucien stepped in front of the cantina. Everything about him shifted so quickly she might have blinked and missed it. Gone was the serious pilot, the smiling man she’d come to know. All his worst traits seemed exaggerated when he stepped into the dim, artificially illuminated space.

No one batted an eye or even turned to look at them. It allowed Lucien to saunter up to the edge of the bar, wedging himself between two open stools so he could lean against his elbow. “Got any work?”

That…wasn’t what she’d expected him to ask. The barkeep glanced up at the pair of them, eyes narrowed for just a moment. Lucien certainly looked like the sort who came into places like this all the time. Elain might have appreciated his worn clothes and how he strategically hid his arm so the bars denoting his rank were no longer visible. He could have been any low-life looking for a job.

But she couldn’t. And when those pair of green eyes landed on her, Elain knew she couldn’t fake her easy, privileged upbringing. Lucien hadn’t mentioned that at all, and now she wished she’d thought of it.

“You’re looking for work?” the woman asked, turning her attention back to Lucien.

Lucien’s grin widened. “Got a pretty new wife to support. Her family didn’t like when I ran off with her.”

And just like that, Lucien had smoothed over every question on that lined, weathered face. The barkeepers shoulders relaxed and she went back to rubbing that filthy rag all over the equally filthy bartop. 

“Aye! Marcellus! Got you a taker!”

Lucien turned his head, angling his body in front of Elain so she was half hidden behind his bulk. From the shadows, a tall, lanky, dark haired, dark eyed man stepped forward. His gaze swept over Lucien first before turning to Elain. She didn’t think she quite liked the way his expression sharpened into something akin to hunger. 

“You want a job?” Marcellus asked Lucien, though he was still looking at Elain. 

“Pretty, right?” Lucien asked casually, hand drifting toward the blaster holstered against his muscular thigh. “If you keep looking at her like that, we’re gonna have trouble.”

“Ain’t never seen a woman half so pretty,” Marcellus replied, tipping his head in Elain’s direction. “Where’d you find her?”

“Corellia,” Lucien replied with a grin. 

Marcellus turned his attention back to Lucien. “Maybe it’s time to pay the core a visit.”

They laughed at Elain’s expense, but she didn’t care. So long as they believed she and Lucien were together, Elain didn’t mind a little male laughter in the form of bonding. From the corner of her eye, she watched him rest his hand on his blaster, a subtle warning that for all their joviality, Lucien would make good on his promise if he felt like he needed to. 

“What’s the job?” Lucien asked once Marcellus’s smile faded a bit. 

“Gundarks,” Marcellus said with a grimace. “You a steady shot?”

Elain reached for Lucien’s arm, squeezing slightly. The gesture wasn’t lost on their new friend, who glanced at her again. 

“Maybe we should go,” she said, letting her own anxiety creep in. “I’ll talk to my father, I’ll—”

“No,” Lucien interrupted smoothly, playing along perfectly. “I can take care of my new wife. Gundarks aren’t the worst thing I’ve faced, besides. Your sister, for one,” he said, earning another laugh from Marcellus. 

“I’ll bring him home mostly intact,” Marcellus informed her. Elain shrank back like the good, sheltered Corellian woman she knew he expected to see. In truth, Elain had never been to Corellia and had no idea what women were like there. She trusted Lucien knew what he was doing.

“Speaking of, you know any places with some availability. I think we’ll be sticking around for a bit,” Lucien told Marcellus. The barkeeper, still listening over the hum of conversation, leaned forward again.

“I got a place. It ain’t much, but it’s cheap.”

“I love cheap,” Lucien told her with an easy, beautiful grin. They worked out a price for the month and Lucien handed over credits without looking at her at all. Elain had been prepared to pay, even if only to continue with the charade. There was a tightness to Lucien’s shoulders as he paid and she wondered if this wasn’t a matter of honor that she didn’t understand.

He was given a key card and directions to their new home for the month with another murmured, remember it ain’t much, as if they hadn’t just spent a week on top of each other on his ship. Anything was better than the tiny room they’d been given. 

“I’ll meet you in the morning. You got a name?” Marcellus asked.

“Fox,” Lucien said with that same charming smile. “And this is Rose.”

“Well, Fox. I’d get your pretty woman a blaster if I were you.”

But it was the barkeep, with her narrowed eyes, that leaned toward Elain. “If you want a job, I got something for you. It’s not glamorous, but it pays.”

“Okay,” Elain said breathlessly, nodding her head with an earnestness that felt real.

“Come by when he leaves and I’ll get you set up.”

And that was that. Elain stumbled out an appreciative thank you while Lucien snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She felt his lips pressed into her hair, swore he inhaled softly. She was tempted to fling her arms around his middle and didn’t, if only because that wasn’t the sort of thing high born ladies did. She’d never seen Nesta act that way with Cassian when they were surrounded by people, though she knew her sister loved him enough to risk everything for him. 

Lucien led Elain back out into the rapidly cooling desert, his arm migrating from her waist to her shoulder so he could pull her closer. It was practical, given the wind whistled around them, throwing sand right into her mouth. Lucien was, once again, immune to the weather and the world, leading her through closed shops and little, round houses shut tight for the night. Their own was right in the middle of a rather nice neighborhood, rundown and shabby and yet she saw a child’s hovercar parked in front of a door a few houses down. People had a life, were happy here. 

The sight strengthened Elain’s commitment to bring Graysen down. The galaxy was filled with people like this, who just wanted safety and security. They deserved better than the rich getting richer off shady deals while funding terrorists to ensure that wealth.

Lucien opened the door with a, “Home, sweet home.”

The barkeep hadn’t lied. It wasn’t much at all. Three connected rooms that hadn’t been updated since the High Republic if that peeling, gold paint was any indicator. The kitchen seemed functional enough, and the bedroom had a closet at least—and a bed hardly any bigger than the one Lucien kept on his ship. Maybe he wouldn’t be directly on top of her, but he’d certainly be touching her. 

“I’ll sleep out here,” he said, peeking his head over her own when Elain turned on the light.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. She’d seen the sofa and its lumpy cushions. If he was going to clear out gundark nests, he’d need better sleep or he was likely to get eaten. “We’re married, right? We’ll sleep in the same bed.”

Lucien took a healthy step away from her, back in the hall that held the decently sized ‘fresher. “We’re not actually married,” he reminded her, shaking sand from his pulled back hair. “This is just a job.”

Elain swallowed the little hurt. Just a job. “I don’t want to explain to my sister why Gundarks ate her favorite pilot,” Elain snapped, her words just a shade too frosty. “I didn’t realize sleeping beside me was such a terrible prospect, but if you want to risk it, be my guest.”

She went to stomp toward the kitchen and see what they had in the way of cookware when Lucien’s fingers curled around her arm.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, looking down at her. Russet and gold were matched in their intensity. “The idea of sleeping beside you is a little too appealing. Surely you know that.”

“I don’t know anything,” she replied, wrenching her arm from his grip. There was no ire to her voice, though. In fact, Elain thought she sounded just a shade too suggestive given the way he was looking at her.

Still, it soothed her a little, knowing the attraction wasn’t one sided. 

“Would you like to?” he called after her retreating form. Elain shivered, though she didn’t turn. Yes, her mind screamed. Instead, Elain went to the kitchen just as she’d planned.

Silent and wondering how long they’d last before they gave in.

LUCIEN:

Elain was back in that silky ivory nightdress—the one with the pearls on the straps, a detail he’d missed before. She’d unbound her hair, letting it fall around her delicate, freckled shoulders. Lucien wanted to map them like a constellation, wanted to memorize them like star charts. Instead, he slid into bed beside her, nervous like this was his first time. Elain glanced over, her cheeks burning red and Lucien was glad he hadn’t put on a shirt. 

“Are you really going to clear out gundarks?” she asked once they were alone in the dark. Lucien resisted the urge to pull her against him, if only because he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands or his mouth to himself.

“I meant it when I said I’ve done worse jobs. It’ll give me a chance to get a read on the planet—and you a chance to hear the local gossip. If the Hybern Syndicate is working here, that’s more money and I’m a good shot.”

“You’re going to work for them?” she gaped, twisting so she was facing him. Lucien remained on his back, sliding his hands behind his head to keep them to himself.

“No, but an introduction never hurt anyone. Especially not you,” he added, though in truth it very well could hurt her. This was just recon, and not a takedown, and as long as no one recognized either of them, they couldn’t get hurt. 

Not badly, anyway. 

“I have a blaster for you,” he added, thinking of the weapon he’d left in the kitchen for her. “Shoot first, ask questions later. Nesta will kill me if I bring you home covered in bruises.”

“Nesta isn’t my mother,” Elain replied, shifting back to her original position. She kept rolling, until her back was to him and once again, Lucien had to fight the urge to pull her closer. He remained where he was long after sleep took Elain, his mind a jumble of thoughts and emotions. Nesta would want a report tomorrow, and Lucien didn’t know what to tell her. This was a monumentally bad idea, made all the worse by how fervently Elain wanted to see results. Lucien wasn’t convinced she would back down if they managed to find proof of Graysen’s connection—and that was what made Elain dangerous. She was untested, unpracticed, and too used to using her words as weapons.

The Hybern Syndicate would use weapons as weapons, and would hardly mourn the loss of one dead Senator. Lucien would, though, which made him risky, too. He lacked his usual distance and the ability to shrug things off. His mind was still in the cantina, on Marcellus and his lightning hot rage as the man looked Elain up and down with open appreciation.

Mine, she’s mine—it wasn’t rational, and yet he had been too close to putting a blaster bolt in the man's head if he hadn’t backed down. Lucien didn’t think he could handle a whole day listening to another man talk about how beautiful his pretend wife was.

In the end, Lucien gave in to impulse and pulled Elain’s pliant, sleeping body against his own. For as long as they were on Florrum, she was his wife and surely that meant he was allowed to hold her. 

He woke to a painful erection—the result of being relaxed and asleep and the scent of her shampoo burning in his nose—and the sound of knocking on the door.

Elain groaned. “I just fell asleep,” she mumbled as Lucien angled his hips away from her. Best not to assault her with his penis first thing in the morning. He didn’t release her though, burying his face in her hair to drink that floral, sweet smell. 

The sun filtered through a filthy window, betraying to Elain that she hadn’t, in fact, just fallen asleep. Elain pressed herself back against him, narrowly avoiding sliding her ass against his still interested, still very awake cock, unaware of how Lucien’s heart stumbled at the thought. He dind’t want to freak her out.

He wanted her to touch him.

“Fox! You still coming or what?!”

It was Lucien’s turn to groan, resting the urge to kiss her arched neck. “Another day, princess,” he said, though truthfully he was talking to himself.

“Give me a minute!” Lucien yelled, flinging the blankets off his body. By the time he’d managed to get himself into his pants, he was back to normal which was a relief. He didn’t want to face the gundarks still worked up over his pretend wife. 

“Here,” Lucien said, fishing in his pockets for some credits. “Get a couple scarves and whatever else you need to blend in. Nothing fancy,” he added, as if she’d be likely to find it. Elain sat up, her tangled hair tumbling down her back. 

“I have credits—”

“C’mon,” he chided, pulling his hair back in a rather sloppy bun at the nape of his neck. “What kind of husband would I be if I made you spend your own credits? And besides. Nesta will reimburse me for all the money I spend, so no harm done.”

“She wouldn’t do that for me,” Elain mumbled, taking the little gold and silver pieces.

“Exactly,” he said with a flourish, offering up a grin while he tripped into his boots. “Don’t forget your blaster, sweetheart. I love you!” he added loudly, pushing open the door a second later. 

Marcellus looked exactly the same as before, though his sleeve was rolled up. Lucien wasn’t stupid—he saw the half-hidden, black inked tattoo in the shape of what seemed to be a cauldron just beneath leather vambraces.

Marcellus wasn’t a simple good samaritan, then. Good. If Lucien impressed him, he’d be able to loosen his tongue with liquor, and maybe get that invite faster than he’d anticipated. 

“Ready?” Marcellus asked, running a hand through his closely cropped hair.

Lucien felt a pair of hands run up his back. Turning, he found Elain still in her nightdress. 

“You’ll take good care of him?” she asked, blinking wide, doe-eyes up at him. Kriffing hell, but Lucien was seconds from closing the door, damning the mission and convincing her all the reasons she should be his actual wife. 

“Very good care,” Marcellus replied, his expression just a little too friendly. 

“Yeah, okay, eyes up here pal,” Lucien grumbled, brushing his knuckles over Elain’s cheek. Their first kiss wasn’t happening like this. Not that Elain seemed to have gotten that memo, as she reached for his hand and pressed a sweet, soft kiss against his palm. 

“Be safe,” she said earnestly. None of it felt fake to Lucien, whose knees nearly buckled beneath the weight of her words.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he replied. 

And then they were gone, walking into the sand and the early morning heat. Marcellus whistled softly, leading Lucien to the blue and silver hovercar idling just off the path. “How’d you meet a girl like that?”

“Luck,” he said honestly. Better to pepper them into his lies to make them easier to remember. “The same way you meet any beautiful woman.”

“Need me that kind of luck,” Marcellus said with a smile. “But I don’t think I’d bring that kind of woman out to these parts.”

Lucien grunted, taking a seat beside Marcellus. “You would if you met her father. He had plans for her.”

“I’ll bet,” Marcellus replied. “You hidin’ out, then?”

“For now. Trying to find something long term, but I gotta start somewhere.”

“I might have a job for you after this, if you don’t mind getting your hands dirty.”

“I’ve never minded that,” Lucien said with a grin. That much was true—he was pretty sure he still had a little engine oil caked beneath his nails. The whipping wind silenced their conversation, and Marcellus was kind enough to offer Lucien a smoky smelling scarf for his face, if only to keep his lungs from filling with sand. Lucien hated Florrum, and was desperate to return to the artifice of Coruscant. There was no true weather at all—just a carefully controlled climate made by machines in order to keep the planet from total collapse. 

Marcellus drove Lucien out into the dune filled landscape, drowning him in a sea of red. Cliffs scaled a few feet in the distance with carved out holes likely made by the gundarks in question. 

“Got a nest of ‘em right up ahead,” Marcellus told Lucien grimly. “They’ve been harassing workers on their way to the mines.”

“Mines?” Lucien replied with genuine surprise. What could they possibly be mining on Florrum? Sand? 

“Some upstart from Coruscant’s little pet project,” Marcellus said flippantly, unaware this was exactly what Lucien wanted to know. “Not many from Doshar Outpost work there—conditions are rough and credits are low. But a lot more a few towns over do, and the gundarks are picking them off one by one. I’ll go half with you if you don’t die.”

“Encouraging words,” Lucien grumbled, swinging himself out of the speeder. So it was Graysen’s money funding this job. Lucien didn’t hate that, though he also didn’t like being so close to the man he was trying to take down. Still, he trusted Marcellus not to do too much blabbing—that would be bad for business, after all. 

What followed was, perhaps, the worst day of Lucien’s life. After scaling the cliffside, both he and Marcellus quickly found that gundarks in any number were a formidable foe. At least as tall as Lucien, with four arms, red fur, and the will to kill him, there were several back handed blows that convinced Lucien this would be his last day alive.

They stumbled back to the speeder closer to dusk, bloodied and bruised and exhausted. “Fuck you,” Lucien said, adopting the crudest language he could think of. “That was…that was a suicide mission.”

“It’s done,” Marcellus replied, swiping at a cut over the bridge of his nose. The unspoken words between them was, of course, that neither had truly believed they’d survive it. There must have been eight of them in that nest—no wonder so many people were being hunted. Lucien had questions about the mines, about Graysen, about all of it. 

And none of it mattered. Not as he fought to catch his breath and adjust to the ache of his body. Lucien indulged himself in a fantasy where Elain patched up all his little hurts like a good wife, though in truth he figured she’d admonish him loudly for being so reckless.

She’d just have to get used to that.

“I’ve got another job for you, if you want,” Marcellus told him, pulling outside the cantina.

“Pay me for this one, first,” Lucien grumbled, stumbling out of the car. “And then we’ll talk another.”

Marcellus chuckled. “You got it.”

Lucien pushed open the door, intending to wash himself up in the ‘fresher before going home to Elain. He didn’t need to bother. There she was, with a pretty yellow scarf tied around her head, hiding her hair and leaving just that beautiful face of hers visible. She’d taken his advice and gotten some new clothes, and the brown pants clinging to her hips, along with the pretty blue of her shirt tucked inside neatly, made Lucien forget all about gundarks.

Wife. That's my wife. 

Elain had an empty tray in one hand and an apron tied around her waist. “What happened to you?” she gaped, rushing between tables for him.

Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the ebbing fear. Lucien didn’t know what made him reach for her face, nor could he account for drawing her closer until his mouth slanted over her own. All Lucien knew was he couldn’t die without kissing her, at least once. 

He’d expected something polite back. Just enough to sell the kiss before pushing him away with get it together eyes.

That wasn’t what happened. Elain reached for him, too, arms tangling around his neck as she surged upwards for what, to Lucien, felt like a frantic, desperate kiss. Good. He forgot they were in a cantina, forgot he was covered in gundark blood. He even forgot his aching body and this mission that was going just a shade too well for his personal comfort. 

All he knew was the taste of her mouth—spicy and sweet, like she’d had a spice brew sometime that afternoon—and the way her tongue slid into his mouth so she could taste him, too.

A jarring touch on his shoulder pulled Lucien back. “Got your credits,” Marcellus said, offering up a tired smile. “Why don’t you sleep on it, get back to me sometime tomorrow about this new job. You were a damn good shot in there. Glad to have you at my back, Fox.”

“You too,” Lucien admitted, slipping his datapad from his pocket for a quick transfer. “I’m taking her home, if no one objects.”

The barkeep merely waved them on, uninterested in the small, personal drama playing out in the middle of her floor. Elain tripped forward, handing back her tray with a sweet, grateful smile. 

“Thank you for the job,” she said, her words endearing. She played the part of sheltered, naive princess so well. Even the barkeep's flinty eyes softened.

“You got it. Glad to have some help in this dump.”

“I’d carry you out, but I think my ribs are bruised,” Lucien told Elain ruefully, leading her back into the chill. It had been blazing hot all afternoon and now that night was approaching, they’d be treated to freezing weather again.

“What happened?” she demanded, reaching for his scratched up hand.

“Gundarks,” he replied grimly. “I’ll tell you all about it when we’re back inside.”

“Here,” she told him, unwinding a scarf from her apron for him. Orange, just like the little fox painted on his ship. Lucien wondered if she’d guessed, or that had been the only thing available to her. Another day he might have asked, but Lucien was merely grateful to be back inside their shared, temporary home. Tripping out of his boots, Lucien made his way for the ‘fresher.

“I’ll make dinner,” Elain called, reminding him he had no idea when he’d eaten last.

It was on the tip of his tongue—I love you—and he was grateful he didn’t say so. That kiss would surely be ruined by his stupid heart and his inability to look before he leaped. That had been his problem with the gundarks, with this mission, with everything he’d ever done. 

It would have been a lie to say he didn’t have a few regrets. Maybe someone else would have been better suited for this mission.

But Lucien knew one thing with absolute certainty: Nesta Archeron had sent him on this mission for a reason. And if Nesta thought Elain had nothing, and this was merely to placate her, she could have sent someone better suited. Someone more level, someone less likely to jump into things. That wasn’t Lucien.

That had never been Lucien.

ELAIN: 

Real or not real? 

All through dinner, that was Elain’s only, burning question. Had the kiss been real or had it been fake? It felt real, and there was no reason for it—everyone believed she and Lucien were married after the day of gushing she’d done. Not to mention, Elain’s worry as the hour grew later and later certainly sold the nervous, sheltered wife act. She was nervous…and maybe a little sheltered, too. 

And then Lucien had come in, looking every inch the hero Nesta had suggested he was. Cut up, bruised, and covered in blood that, for a second, she’d been terrified had been his. But no, gundark blood was so dark it was almost black, mingled against his own blood of which there seemed to be very little of.

The wanting slammed into her mere seconds before he did. He looked good. Better than good—incredible, like the sort of man she’d been waiting on her entire life. And then he’d kissed her and Elain had forgotten about their mission or even that they weren’t really married. Because of course this was her husband—her filthy, stupid husband—and he was safe.

And now he was clean. A little battered and bruised but alive and spooning a third bowl of her mediocre stew into his mouth. In between bites, Lucien recounted his day and the fight with the gundarks, unaware of how her heart stumbled every time he laughed off a near miss with death. As though it were all funny to him.

And all the while, all Elain truly wanted to know was if the kiss had been real. Did he mean to kiss her like that? Like the only thing keeping him on his feet was her? Or had it been part of his ruse for Marcellus? Tapping her fingers, Elain waited until he finished another bowl, groaning as he stood.

She cleaned while Lucien eyed her warily. “Are you okay?” he finally asked, walking toward the other side of the counter so he could lean his muscular body against the cool metal. His clean shirt clung to his chest, a vibrant blue that made his skin seem more sunkissed than usual.

“I’m fine,” she lied, because she wasn’t. 

“Are you upset with me?” he asked. And she wasn’t mad at him, either. Not when he’d managed to score a job with Marcellus, who might be connected to Hybern, and when he’d learned Graysen was operating a mine, for reasons Elain couldn’t untease. 

“No,” she said, looking up at him. “Of course not.”

“Then what is it?” he asked. Damp tendrils of auburn hair spilled over his shoulders, framing a face that was too perceptive for his own good. Elain blinked.

Nothing. That was what she intended to say. “Why did you kiss me like that?”

Lucien’s lips parted. “Because…” he swallowed hard, the knot in his throat bobbing ever so slightly. “Kriff, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t…I crossed a line, and…I’m sorry.”

“So…it was for show?” Stars, but that hurt more than anything he could have said.

His expression sharpened. “Who said that? I said I was sorry for crossing a line…not that I was putting on a show.”

Finger beneath her chin, Lucien tilted her face so she had to look at him. “All I want to do is kiss you. All the time,” he added, just in case she didn’t understand. 

“All the time?” she repeated. “Like…right now?”

“Especially right now,” he agreed, drawing them closer. 

“Lucien—”

He silenced her plea to get on with it, a smile on his face. She could taste it, warm and bright and tinged with the dinner she’d made him. There was a soft exhale of air and then his fingers tangled in her hair, drawing her closer still, until she was flush against his body.

Lucien groaned from either want or pain—she couldn’t say for sure. Whatever it was, it didn’t keep him from banding her closer, to pulling her up so her legs were wrapped around his waist and he was holding her in the air despite his many injuries. 

And the whole while, all Elain focused on was kissing him. The taste of his mouth, the softness of his tongue gliding against her own—all of it was too much. She wanted far more, wanted to peel his clothes from his body and have him whatever way he’d let her. 

Lucien grunted when she tried to pull the shift up over his head. “I want to,” he panted, pressing his forehead against her own. “You have no idea how badly I want to, but…”

But she was sliding back to the floor and the splattered bruises against his ribcage told Elain he was in far worse shape than she’d originally thought.

“Take it off,” she whispered, wanting to take stock of him. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Lucien tossed his shirt behind him, shrugging his cut up shoulders. He didn’t react while she ran her fingers over his toned chest, mapping the scars and bruises beneath her fingers. 

“Will you let me take care of you, at least?” she asked him.

His eyes flashed with heat. “Careful, Elain, or I’ll start thinking you’re my actual wife.”

Something in his tone made her think he might like it if she was. 

“What woman wants such a reckless husband?” she replied lightly, grateful he couldn’t hear the way her heart raced. “I’d be a widow before the year was out.”

His eyes tracked her, even when she reached for his hand and pulled him toward the bedroom. “I don’t know about that,” he all but purred. “I’m deceptively resourceful.”

“I’m learning,” she replied dryly, shoving him gently to the bed she’d made after he left. “Stay here. I’ll dig out some bacta.”

Lucien laid flat, stripping to just his under things so she could slather his cuts in the thick, cold goo before gently laying a bandage over top.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say the princess was a healer,” he said, his voice strained and breathless. It didn’t take much to understand what had him so worked up. Elain had seen the bulge outlining those tight shorts the moment she’d settled between his splayed legs to clean up a rather nasty cut against his inner thigh. And maybe she’d lingered there, rubbing her fingers over his skin like she was checking for something internal, when in truth she merely liked feeling his muscles flex just beneath his skin. 

“Why do you call me that?” she asked him, settling back once she was certain he was as patched up as she could get him. “Princess? No one calls me that outside of Naboo.”

“You look like one,” he told her earnestly, rising up on his elbows to look at her still kneeling between his legs. “What else would you like me to call you?”

So long as he wasn’t mocking her, Elain didn’t mind if he called her princess. In fact, she didn’t think it was such an awful thing to be considered his princess. “Princess is fine.”

He grinned, gesturing for her to come toward him. Elain collapsed against the solid strength of his chest, burying a smile into his skin when his arms wrapped around her. His face was back in her hair, inhaling deeply before he kissed her gently. 

“My pretty princess,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her cheek. 

“Marcellus can wait a day,” Elain told him, laying flat on her stomach so she could look at him. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Lucien offered her that dimpled smile. “Oh? Hoping to keep me in bed, are you?”

“I have a job, don’t I?” she shot back without malice. “I’m working a little charm, too. But it would be nice knowing you’re here, tucked away and safe.”

“It’s tempting, but if you’re leaving, I am too,” he said, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. 

“Because this is a job?” she asked anxiously. 

“Because I’d be a shitty husband if I laid in bed all day while my wife worked. I’ll take care of myself,” he added hastily, offering another warm kiss. 

“Promise?”

Lucien placed a battered hand against his bruised chest. “I swear it on the vows we made the day we got married.”

Elain offered him a loud, exaggerated sigh of exasperation, but Lucien was still grinning. “He knows I need the money. He’ll expect to see me tomorrow. And I want to know what’s going on with that mine and how it all connects. Trust me,” he added. 

Elain settled beside him. 

“I do.”

[pinkflufflybunny7]

At the Capitol Station:

Warinigs: Sad, very very sad. Mention of dead. 🥲❤️‍🩹💔 I try to adapt a little the story of the song En el Muelle de San Blas by the band Maná. Only instead of on a dock, at the Capitol Train Station.

"She said goodbye to her love, he left on a boat at the San Blas dock. (on a train at the Capitol Staion)"

Today was a sad day, you said goodbye to the boy you loved at the train station. He would leave to the twelfth district, where he would be for a timeserving as a Peacekeeper. Despite this, he had promised that he would become a medic and could finish his years of service in a district closer to the Capitol, hopefully on two. But above all, he would come back so the both of you could get married.

He swore he would return, and soaked in tears she swore she would wait.

— Don't be sad, little butterfly. This won't be the last time we see each other. I will come to see you whenever they give me permission, I will call you and send you letters as many times as possible. — Said the boy while he dried the tears that ran down your cheeks with his thumb.

— I know, I know you will. That you are not going to forget about me. But Sejanus, I'm going to miss you so much, baby. — you responded, playing with his fingers, while you couldn't stop the tears from coming out of your eyes again. — I'm a crybaby, I know. — you added with a sad pout. You looked at the hand in which you had the engagement ring that he had given you the day before and smiled. — But I swear I'll wait for you. I love you so much that it doesn't matter how old you are. Truly, I will wait for you my Sejanus. — You told him, caressing his cheeks after having taken his face in your hands.

—I would like not to make you wait so long. And I won't tell you that you deserve better, someone to be with you all the time because I already tried, and you scolded me. — The brunette commented, letting out a soft laugh before placing a kiss on your forehead. — But nothing makes me happier, and gives me strength to face what I have to do, than knowing that when all this happens you are going to be my wife. — He added. The boy now had his arms around your waist. — I love you too much. —Sejanus finished before they gave one last kiss at the train station.

The days went by and feeling sad was normal. But waiting for that call, that letter, made the illusion return to you. It wasn't easy to miss someone you considered your better half. In the last letter, he had told you that he had made new friends. That Coryo had found Lucy, and that they had all visited a nice lake that you would surely like. That had left you happy. It's just that the somewhat that nervous expression in his eyes the last time you spoke to him on the video call threw you off. Something was happening to him, and he didn't want to tell you. Sure not to worry you. Before he hanged the call you were about to ask what has happening when suddenly the call was cut off. The signal with the districts was terrible.

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

This morning, you had found your mother's wedding dress, and you insisted on wanting to try it on. You wanted to see how you looked like as a bride, plus she had promised you could use it at your wedding with the Plinth. — How do I look, grandma? — you asked as you walked around and stood in front of the mirror.

— Beautiful! You will be the most beautiful bride. — Grandma said happily with a big smile on her face. — Daughter, go see our princess in your wedding dress. It'll just be a second, please. —The old woman commented when she saw her daughter, who was talking to someone at the door. It was Strabo, he seemed to have a more somber and serious expression than usual. — I'm coming, mother… — the tone in the woman's voice was somewhat trembling.

Mr. Plinth left, and your mother closed the door after him. She walked towards you with a worried and sad expression on her face. — Honey… come here. — She said, extending her hands to take yours and then pull you into a hug. She didn't even want to take a good look at how you looked dressed as a bride. At that moment, Grandma knew something wasn't right, and so did you in the depths of your heart. A shiver ran through your entire body. Soon you felt that all your thoughts were clouded, your heart hurt, a lot.

— I'm so sorry, darling, I really am. — Your mother said as she took your face in her hands. — No, that's not true. It's dad's plan to separate us. He never liked him because he was from the district. I knew it… I knew it. — you said in a muffled tone of voice. —Sejanus is coming back, mom. He promised me and I believe him. He's fine, he's fine… — you said repeatedly in denial. Sejanus Plinth couldn't be dead.

— What's more, I'm sure he will be at the train station by now. Today he was supposed to arrive. They were his days off, and he had permission to return home for a few days. — You pointed to the calendar, sure of what you were saying. — I'm going for him, he has to see how pretty the wedding dress looks on me. He will be very happy. I love the two of you, I'll be back. — you indicated to them. In your delirium of pain, you were convinced that he would return. That you just had to be patient and wait. So you took the skirts of that dress in your hands so that it wouldn't drag on the floor, and you headed to the exit before the astonished gaze of your mother and grandmother.

— Daughter, come back. Where do you think you are going? —The woman said, while she tried to prevent you from leaving. — Mom, I already told you. I'll wait for Sejanus to arrive. I'll go to the train station. — There were several attempts by both of them to stop you from doing it, but it was in vain.

¨Thousands of moons passed And always she was at the station, waiting¨

At first, you only went on the days when the peacekeepers were supposed to return to visit their families at the Capitol. But then the visits to the station became constant. There came a day when you didn't want to leave that train station. Days, weeks, months, and years passed. And you were still at that station waiting for him.

¨She was wearing the same dress. In case he came back, he wouldn't mistake. Her hair became white, but no train returned her love. ¨

Many years passed, and no one could get you out of that station. You were still wearing your mother's wedding dress and the engagement ring on your finger. However, your hair was disheveled, the dress was shabby, and your gaze was lost.

¨And one afternoon in April, they tried to transfer her to the asylum. No one could tear her out, and they never separated her from the station.¨

There were many times they tried to admit you to a hospital, but they couldn't. 65 years had passed since that tragic day and the new tributes from 12 arrived at the new and fast train. Maybe your mind did not reason and you no longer even had a notion of time, however you knew where that train came from.

So even when the peacekeepers tried to stop you from speaking to the tributes, you managed to do it. — Darlings. Do you know when Sejanus Plinth will return to the Capitol? We were supposed to get married, but it's almost time for me to go… and he's not coming. He is a handsome young peacekeeper, with dark hair and doe eyes. — you explained to the young couple.

In the twelfth, there were stories of the peacekeeper who was hanged for treason on the hanging tree. Of course, to those in the district he was someone who was on their side, and he definitely hadn't done anything wrong to deserve what happened to him. The young woman was about to let go of reality, this was Katniss Everdeen who usually had no filter, and she wasn't even malicious, she just had little tact. But before she spoke, the boy intervened when he saw the expression of loneliness and sadness in your eyes. They were already the eyes of an old woman, a flower withered by time and sadness. Which made him feel sorry for you. You were just looking for an answer, someone to give you that news that you waited for so many years. — You can be calm. He will join you soon. You will be together again. —The young blonde assured her.

—Why did you tell her that, Peeta? — The girl questioned.

— Because it's what she needed to hear. Also to a certain extent it is true. Look at her Katniss, so old, frail, and sick. We both know he didn't even get a chance to grow old. But so even if he is not in this life, in the next they will meet again. And I think that it won't take that long. — the boy admitted.

¨In the town they called her the crazy woman from the Capitol Station.¨

— Ah, I see that you met the Madwoman from the Capitol Station. — A man was heard commenting to them as he walked alongside the pair with a drink in his hand. The peacekeepers had finally managed to get you away from the tributes. For some reason they had more tolerance for your interventions because every year it was the same. Also, crazy or not, you were still Capitoline. The difference was that this time that boy had restored your hope.

¨She stayed there, she stayed until the end. She stayed there, she stayed at the Capitol Station. ¨

Almost without strength, you managed to sit on an empty bench and watch the train go by, like every day. You closed your eyes and fell into a deep sleep. When you opened them again, there was the love of your life in front of you. Dressed in his formal suit, again with his curls. There was a small mark on his neck, but you didn't pay attention to that. You only focused on having him in front of you again.

— Butterfly, I came back for you. Did you think I would abandon you? I'm sorry it took so long. I wanted to be with you before. Forgive me. — he told you, extending his hand to you so that you could stand up and take it. — I told you that I was capable of waiting a lifetime for you, and that's what I did. You're already here and that's what matters. — Make sure by caressing his cheek. — I love you with all my heart. — you declared. — I also love you with all my heart, little butterfly. — Sejanus replied before kissing you in a long, tender kiss.

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

high infidelity | seventeen

Wherever you stray, I follow I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans, that's my man *Noah's POV* (sorry I know it's a lot of Noah but the story just flowed better from his prespective) After another hour of teasing and intense flirting, we left the bar and decided to head back to the hotel. The weather was so nice and warm when we walked towards her car. My eyes wondered down to our intertwined hands, our Naruto tattoos almost mirrored each others. I never believed in the invisible string theory, but how many people do you know that have matching tattoos that weren’t planned? A world where she isn’t with me just doesn’t exist to me anymore.

“Are you okay?” Ellie asked as we got to the car, I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts I realized I hadn’t said anything since we left the bar. “More than okay.” I assured her. “I just had the best day with the most beautiful woman in the world, and it’s only 4 o’clock.” “Yeah, I had this really hot tattooed guy spend the day with me today too, it was amazing.” I rolled my eyes at her joke and she lightly pushed me away, not before I could grab her hand and pull her back into me. I lifted her chin so I could kiss her gently, she held onto me tightly as she got on her tip toes. The wine mustive given me some confidence because I picked her up and put her on the hood of her car, kissing her more. Ellie’s hands found their home in my hair and gripped onto her thighs, kissing her deeper. I could feel her smiling against my lips and I loved every second of it, not caring who saw us. I was in love with this woman and I wanted the world to know it. *Ellie’s POV* After spending the most incredible day with Noah we decided to spend the rest of the night in our hotel room since we’re leaving early tomorrow morning. When we got back to the hotel room we cuddled in bed and had an unplanned nap together. The clock read 7pm when I finally rolled over and got out of bed. I was going to wake Noah up but he was sleeping so peacefully beside me so I quietly ordered us some room service. I wasn’t sure what he would want so I ordered chicken tenders with a side of fries cause I was starving. After that I went into the bathroom, did my skincare and changed into one of Noah’s shirts with just a pair of underwear on underneath. As I got changed my phone started to buzz, it was Danielle. “Hey stranger.” I whispered as I slipped onto the patio, deeply regretting leaving my legs exposed but whatever. I just wanted to let Noah sleep. “How’s my girl?” Danielle replied loudly. I heard music behind her, telling me she was at work. It sounded right up my alley, making me wonder who was playing. “Well your girl is staying at very nice hotel with the lead singer of Bad Omens…I feel like I’m waiting for someone to pinch me.” I said as I looked back inside, seeing Noah starting to stir. “Well honey, I hate to tell you, this isn’t a dream…you’re with Noah Sebastian.” The music got a lot louder before it faded completely, telling me she went backstage towards her office. “Was that Amity playing in the background?” “Yeah but they sound like shit, I have no idea who the opener was and five people got thrown out already. It’s a nightmare over here, I’m gonna have so much fucking paperwork tomorrow.” She sighed deeply, I don't know how she works in HR. “I would’ve invited you but I don’t know what is going on with you, also, what the hell is going on with you?” “A lot.” I chuckled. “Tyler got the papers, he just gave up and is giving me whatever I want. We’re putting the house up for sale so I’m gonna start looking for an apartment next weekend. He’s also taking Liam to his parents for the next few days so I’m gonna go to Vegas tomorrow with Noah to see him play again.” “El, that’s amazing! I know that my mom said Tyler looked fucking horrified and put his tail between his legs so I’m not surprised. How is everything going with Noah?” “Unreal.” I started, replaying this afternoon in my head. “We went to the aquarium this afternoon and I took him to Vieve for some drinks afterwards. He even mentioned getting his own apartment here because he really likes it, and to be closer to me.” “Wow El, does that scare you at all?” “No.” I responded confidently, “Danielle, he told me he’s all in for me and I know he’s being genuine about it. I’m still going to have my own space and if things don’t work out he can go back to California.”

“I trust your judgement and I trust Noah.” I breathed a sigh of relief because she was so protective of me and who I let in my life, especially after everything Tyler put me through. I felt a little guilty not mentioning that Noah was gonna stay with me first but I can save that for another day. “Just look after yourself and enjoy your freedom but don’t lose him in the process. From what I saw, he looks like he’d walk through fire for you.” “Well I’m definitely in love with him.” I said as the door cracked up, causing my heart to jump a little. I looked up and Noah sent me the softest smile before kissing the top of my head. “I gotta go.” “Okay, call me when you land tomorrow?” “You know I will. Goodnight.” “Danielle?” Noah asked me as I stood up. I just nodded as he pulled me into a warm embrace, his hands ran under my shirt and caressed the band of my underwear. “This shirt looks better on you than me.” “Is it the shirt or the fact that I’m not wearing pants?” I joked before kissing him. “It’s probably that.” He smiled against my lips, his thumbs applied pressure onto my sides making me gasp a little. “I just wanted to let you know our food is here.” “Okay, I’m right behind you.” I said between the kisses he planted sporadically on my mouth. God, I never wanted him to stop kissing me, the taste of him was so addictive.  We went back inside and ate our food in bed as we settled on a rerun of bobs burgers. After a few episodes we settled into bed and Noah instantly fell asleep and I laid there and just studied him. He was so beautiful and I didn’t care if that didn’t make sense to anyone but it made sense to me. My eyes started to close finally and I drifted off to sleep, already excited for what tomorrow was going to bring.