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moonlightspencie · 10 months

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… Angels Roll Their Eyes

Description: A new recruit to the BAU catches Reid’s eye. Unfortunately for the both of them, she has a past with someone very close to him. Are they willing to keep secrets just to keep one another? (TWO-PART MINISERIES)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, reader gets a minor injury, sexual references/content (i’ll accept 16+ because its definitely not more than pg-13 material but writing anything sexy makes me feel weird if i know teenagers are reading it)

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: READER’S POV!! this is where the bridge kicks in teehee. (also savannah is more of a minor character at this point, nobody really knows she and derek are together)

Devils Roll the Dice… (click for part 1)

I walked up to the figure illuminated by vending machine lights. His head was down as he looked through the options, not really intending on buying anything at all. I slowed my steps on the approach, just barely catching his attention before I was right next to him.

“Hey,” he said quietly, giving me a soft smile.

I grinned in full, not bothering to hide my feelings. Nobody was around, anyways.

“Hey. You come here often?”

He laughed. “Only this once. Waiting around for this girl who said she’d meet me here.”

“Sounds like she’s into you.”

He nodded. “I think so.”

I grabbed his hand, attempting to pull him closer. He took the advantage to bring me in instead, my back against the hard plastic of the machine’s display. Rather than kissing me then and there, he leaned in, lips unbearably close to my ear.

“I feel like we’re sneaking around past our parents,” he said quietly.

“You never got that ‘teenage dream’ experience. Maybe this is your second chance.”

He smiled. “Maybe.”

His lips pressed to mine, silencing our whispered words for good.

We were far from teenagers at this point, but he was still a dream. I found myself feeling giddy at every turn, completely ignoring the impending doom that loomed over our relationship.

We both knew we weren’t trying hard enough to hide it. Neither of us knew what would happen when it finally came to light.

Until that happened, we’d pretend it wasn’t in the cards at all. Summer love was still sweet, even being far removed from the romanticism of anything resembling the movie-loves I’d grown accustomed to religiously watching. This was somehow better. Maybe because it was more realistic. Probably because it was always more thrilling to live it out.

I smiled into our kiss, feeling his wandering hands trying to get themselves under my legs to lift me up. Sadly, we never got the chance.

We heard footsteps coming down the hall quickly, breaking apart and trying to look as nonchalant as possible as we mindlessly gazed at the snacks inside the machine.

“I’m thinking M&Ms,” I noted, almost laughing.

Spencer hid a smile. He clicked the right buttons right as our visitor reached us. The little package dropped, our secret still somehow concealed from a slightly-confused Aaron Hotchner as he stood behind us waiting for his turn.

“Night,” I said, giving a slight nod.

“Goodnight.”

Spencer followed behind me, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious that he didn’t have some cheap snack of his own in hand as we walked past. I rationalized that he looked too tired to notice, anyways.

We wound up back in my room, giggling with each other like kids at a sleepover. I made him do a face-mask with me while he made me listen to a lecture on how the hyaluronic acid in the formula provided moisture for our skin. I gladly listened with a smile on my face, and he happily accepted a hundred kisses as I wiped his face clean afterwards.

We laid on my bed, mindlessly talking about whatever came to mind. He took my hand in his, running his thumb across the back of my hand in repeated motions as we talked.

“What do you say we stop hiding us?” I asked at last, staring at the ceiling. “I’ve established myself on the team at this point, I think.”

He was quiet for a moment, still running his thumb over my hand.

“I don’t know. I think it’s better that we keep it quiet.”

I paused, taking in his response. I’d hoped that after a while we wouldn’t be hiding anymore. As much fun as it was to sneak around, it could be utterly exhausting. But, if he still wanted to, I’d agree.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he questioned, turning his head to look at me.

I looked back at him, giving him a small smile and a nod.

“Yeah. If that’s what you want, it’s fine by me.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I sprung up a moment after, standing at the foot of the bed. I grabbed my phone, clicking around on the screen as he propped himself up to look at me. I held out a hand to him.

“Dance with me, pretty boy,” I sang out, hitting shuffle on one of my playlists.

He quickly obliged, not wasting a second in worrying about whether or not he could actually dance. He knew I’d be there to guide whatever movements he didn’t know how to do yet.

Whispers of ‘are you sure?’

I smiled at him, admiring the way he payed way too much attention to how he moved. I made it a goal to loosen him up. After a minute, he was letting me guide, leaving his body to its own devices. He was really better off for it.

I can see us lost in the memory

We swayed along to the song, silently praying it wasn’t some kind of sick foreshadowing of how our summer would end. I pretended not to care much about the lyrics. He pretended not to listen to most of them.

August sipped away like a bottle of wine

Cause you were never mine

“Do you think that’ll happen to us?” I asked, still smiling past the gravity of the question.

“Of course not,” he answered with finality.

Wanting was enough

For me it was enough

To live for the hope of it all

I took his hands, the both of us spinning around in circles with smiles on our faces that were real and genuine despite a nagging feeling that something might be wrong.

I knew mine had a lot to do with very real feelings I was scared to talk about. I was too afraid to think about what may have filled his head. It was really none of my business, anyways, so I cleared my head of it all. Wanting was enough. I didn’t have to doubt that. It had been enough for two months so far. That had to count for something.

Weeks later and it was August. That lingering question of “will it last” was ever-present in my head. I just kept pushing it down. Fuck compartmentalization. That question was locked in a dungeon, chained to a wall, and I intended on keeping it there until we were either burning to the ground or eloping in Vegas.

Those seemed like the most viable options, anyway. An extremely-attached, yet no-strings kind of situationship could really only go one of two ways.

I almost wanted him to hate me at that point. It would certainly be a thrilling end if he revealed that he never cared about me and was only doing all of this to screw with my head. Almost like he was a spy, trying to uncover whatever boring substance made up my psyche.

I knew that was… Slightly less realistic, though.

I probably shouldn’t have been thinking about it so thoroughly, especially since it was merely theoretical. It would have caused a lot less mental work. It also might have prevented me from being off my game.

I had a habit of being a bit clumsy when we weren’t in life-threatening situations, but messing up while we were on a case? Unbearably embarrassing.

I looked up as my arm hit the wall to stop me from falling over my own two feet, disgusting to find that an exposed nail head had given me quite the scratch. It looked pretty gnarly, and frankly I was thanking my lucky stars I’d already gotten a tetanus booster after my last injury. However, I probably couldn’t go much further with my arm bleeding. Especially if they didn’t necessarily need me. It was one man they were going after, and we didn’t even know if he was in this house.

I voiced to Hotch what had happened, and he told me to leave if I was safe enough to do so. JJ and three officers occupied the house anyways, so I booked it out of there.

I cleaned myself up as well as I could with the first aid kit in the car, planning on doing a better job when I got back to the precinct. The house we were in turned out to be a bust anyways. Our unsub was still in the wind. He clearly hadn’t even been in the house in weeks. It was wildly frustrating.

Until Miss Penelope Garcia called in to save the day as she always did. She let JJ and I know that the others were currently heading across town to an apartment that she was certain housed the unsub and our most recent victim.

“Finally,” I sighed, leaning my head back in the seat.

JJ was quiet, and I looked away from my driving to see her. She smiled at me when I turned my head.

“What?” I questioned with a laugh.

“Can I ask you something?” she inquired, sitting up a little more straight. “It’s a little personal.”

I quirked a brow. “You can ask, but I reserve my right to remain silent.”

She laughed. “Alright. Fair enough. Uh, I’m just wondering about you and a certain team member.”

I swallowed. Uh oh.

“Okay?”

“I’ve just— I’ve heard rumors, and I wanted to ask you directly about them rather than letting the rumor-mill run.”

I nodded slowly. “What have you heard?”

“Word on the street is that you and Morgan used to be an item.”

Oh.

“Ah,” I replied with a chuckle. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, we were a thing. But that was a while ago, and I’m pretty certain we’ve moved past it.”

“Right, yeah,” she nodded. “You know, he has a secret girlfriend now.”

I smiled, glancing at her. “Really?”

She nodded again. “Yeah. He’s been trying to hide it, but Garcia loves to talk.”

I laughed, thinking of the bubbly, well-meaning woman. She had a hard time with secrets, though she tried her hardest.

“That’s good. He deserves to be happy, he was always a great guy,” I said.

“Just gotta look past all of the mindless flirting and the jock-persona,” JJ noted jokingly.

I hummed in agreement, turning down the road that would lead us to the precinct at last. It was a good thing, too, since my arm was really starting to irritate me now. My discomfort must have been obvious, as JJ looked at me once again.

“You okay?” she questioned. “That cut on your arm looks pretty painful.”

I looked at it, noticing there was some bleed-through on the bandage. I sighed, not looking forward to cleaning it up.

“I’ll live. It just itches pretty bad right now, and it’s fairly sore.”

“I can help you when we’re back at the station. You shouldn’t have to do that alone.”

“Thanks Jayje,” I said, resting a hand on her arm briefly.

She covered my hand with her own, giving me another smile. It felt like she could see through me on occasion. She had quickly become one of my closest friends on the team, which took me a little by surprise. She seemed a little too unironic-girlboss when I first met her, but the second Penelope helped me see her true colors… We were fast friends.

I almost found myself telling her about Spencer and I on multiple occasions, but always ended up thinking better of the idea. That moment was one of the times I almost said something.

Of course, I thought twice about it, but she gave me that look like she knew what I was thinking.

I found an out when we pulled into the precinct, and took up her offer to help me with properly fixing up my arm. We made light conversation as I tried like hell not to focus on the stinging pain that occurred every time she probed at the cut.

We did whatever we could to help after she was finished. At least until the rest of the team showed up. But, to my delight, we rounded out our night by heading home and going straight to the bar.

I didn’t often let myself get well and truly drunk. Especially not when I was around Spencer. I knew I had been staring at him once I downed my sixth shot, but by the third mixed drink he was pulling me out of the bar. He threw out some kind of excuse that he was tired and I needed a ride home.

“What’s up with you?” he asked after bidding a goodnight to everyone else. “You’ve been acting weird, and now you’re getting wasted.”

I was annoyed by the comment, but there was concern in his voice over everything else. I leaned into him as we walked towards my car.

“I just wanted to have some fun, Spencie.”

He sighed, continuing to help me walk until we reached my vehicle.

“Come on,” he muttered under his breath, helping me into the backseat of the car.

I slumped over into the seat as he did, just barely letting him put the seatbelt around me and click it into place. He was fairly quiet as he did so, which really only furthered my concern. Even drunk I knew well enough to see that something was off with him. He shut the door, and I let myself drop against the seat, listening as he opened and closed the driver’s side door.

I glanced up, seeing him adjust the mirror to keep an eye on me in the seat rather than the road. It was dangerous and stupid. And so sweet it made my stomach flip.

I let my mind wander as he turned on the radio, thought he kept it low, and started driving. I thought of him and the summer we’d shared thus far. Three months is nothing in the grand scheme of life, but it felt like everything when I was with him. He felt like everything in that time. I hated keeping him a secret so much.

Maybe I shouldn’t have drank so much.

I let out the tears I was holding back, sniffling as the snot starting trying to weasel its way out of my system. If I was going to cry like a baby, I wasn’t going let myself get all gross and grimy. That’s where I drew the line. I’d make sure at least some of my dignity was preserved.

He looked at me in the rear view mirror, brows furrowing.

“Y/N?”

I sniffled.

“Yeah?” I managed, knowing I sounded absolutely pathetic.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft. “Why are you crying?”

I met his eyes as he continually glanced at me in the mirror. I had to have looked ridiculous, laying on the backseat with tears streaming down my face for seemingly no reason.

“I’m fine.”

He deadpanned. “You’re sobbing in the backseat of your own car.”

“I’m fine,” I said again through tears, voice coming out much more whiny than I’d intended.

He said my name as a warning, seeing through my… untruth. I felt more happy calling it that than anything else. I looked at him, admiring his pretty face through the mirror as he looked on at the road ahead. Maybe it was a good idea for him to practically drag me out of the bar. I could be a messy drunk, and I definitely would’ve outed us by wanting to be messy with him in front of the team if I’d drank any more.

Keeping secrets sucked. It was stupid and annoying. Especially when he was so hot.

I whined out loud at the though, squeezing my eyes shut.

“What?” he whined back, a laugh on his lips.

“I’m sick of this.”

“Sick of what, baby?”

I sighed, wiping away tears that kept on rolling.

“Keeping secrets. I don’t want to have to keep hiding this just to keep you.”

He sighed to match mine. “I know.”

“I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“Honey, we don’t have much of a choice.”

“But I’m going to explode if I can’t kiss you in public anymore.”

“No, you won’t,” he said, looking at me again.

I pouted. “I will.”

“You’re drunk, baby. We’ll get you into bed and you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“Will you come to bed with me?”

He smiled softly. “Of course.”

I felt the car starting to slow, and though my vision was a little blurry, I saw the green light ahead turn to yellow. I looked at him again, a small smile coming to my tear-soaked face.

“Spencie?”

He hummed in question, not yet looking at me.

“Can I tell you something really stupid?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

I paused for a moment, letting my inebriated state wipe away any inhibitions I may have had otherwise. The car stopped at the light at last. I smiled softly.

“For what it’s worth, I love you,” I mumbled. “And it’s the worst fucking thing you could hear right now.”

I hoped he’d say it back, though part of me expected him to pretend he hadn’t heard me at all.

I definitely didn’t expect him to look at me through the mirror with a devilish smirk.

“I know you do,” he stated. “And it’s not the worst thing I‘ve heard by a long shot.”

I bit my lip to hold back a smile as he pulled away from the light. We ended up back at my apartment, Spencer still helping me stumble the whole way there. I pushed him back against the door as soon as we were inside, but he held my wrists to stop me from feeling him up. I pouted.

“Ow,” I said, pulling my injured arm from him.

“You okay, princess?”

I nodded, quiet. He simply looked at me, certainly not believing me.

“Why are you doing that?” I questioned.

His eyes widened. “W-why am I stopping you?”

I nodded silently, still pouting.

“Baby— You’re drunk. I’m not doing anything with you while you’re drunk.”

I dropped my hands, whining as I leaned my full body into his. He wrapped his arms around me, walking— more so waddling— with me until we reached my couch.

“I just wanna kiss you,” I grumbled into his chest, letting him drop me onto the cushions.

I stared up at him, trying to look alluring. I probably just looked a little out of my mind.

“I love kissing you, but not while you’re so drunk you can’t even stand up by yourself without almost tipping over,” he said, smiling softly as he crouched between my legs.

He leaned up, softly kissing my forehead. He kept my face in his hands, looking at me. He let one hand drop, running it across my arm. I pulled back again, feeling the discomfort in my arm from my earlier injury.

He furrowed his brow, looking down at my arm as it was covered by my sleeve.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded. “I’m fine.”

“You pulled away twice when I touched your arm.”

“It’s okay.”

He sighed, grabbing my arm and gently moving my sleeve up over the bandage. He let out a sharp breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” he asked, trying not to be annoyed with my concealment. “When did you get hurt?”

I deflated. “Today.”

“How?”

“I got cut. Fell into a nail in the wall.”

He ran a hand over his face. “You should’ve told me.”

“Why?”

He glanced up, furrowing his brow. He was clearly annoyed with me, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel terribly about it.

“Because I want to know when you’re hurt.”

I swallowed. Okay, that made me feel a little guilty.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is. That’s a pretty big bandage.”

I was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to worry.”

“It’s my job to worry about you.”

“No, it isn’t.”

He quirked a brow. “Why not?”

“We aren’t even like… A real couple,” I said, closing my eyes. “All we do is sneak around and you don’t ever want to tell anyone and I just don’t think that we can keep acting like it’s gonna last forever if we can’t even tell friends about—”

“It’s not my fault you dated Derek first,” he said, cutting me off.

I scoffed. “He doesn’t even care. That was forever ago and he has his secret girlfriend now anyways.”

“You wanted to keep this secret in the first place.”

“Well I’m sick of it,” I yelled. “I’m sick of keeping secrets and I’m sick of you not caring that I’m in love with you.”

“Not caring?” he asked, voice raising as he leaned back on his knees.

“You didn’t even say it back when I said it.”

“Because you’re drunk! How am I supposed to know if you even mean it?”

“Because I do!”

I groaned, my head dropping back against the cushions. My buzz was starting to wane, and I wished it would hold on a little longer.

“You were crying in the backseat. We said we’d talk about this tomorrow when you were sobered up. Why don’t we stick to that plan?” he said after a moment.

“Why can’t you just tell me how you actually feel about me?”

“I don’t want to say something and have you not remember it.”

“You’re so annoying,” I grumbled.

He rolled his eyes, standing abruptly. I readied myself for him to leave. I knew I was being childish, but I was tired of keeping everything bottled up. I wouldn’t blame him for dropping me then and there.

But, he reached out a hand.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

I looked up at him curiously, not yet taking his hand.

“You’re staying?”

He nodded. “Of course. I don’t want to leave you like this.”

I reached out, letting him help me up. We walked to my room, quietly undressing. I climbed into bed, watching him as he finally tugged off his pants, leaving him in just his undershirt and boxers. He shut my door, turned off the lights, and got under the covers with me.

He reached out for me under the sheets, tugging me against him. I sighed, resting my hand over his arm.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“It’s okay. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

I woke up to a horrible headache, and a nauseous feeling that I was convinced would probably never ever go away. I was 100% certain I would never drink again ever in my life. It was a set rule that I made very quickly.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked.

My next rule was that nobody was ever allowed to speak to me again.

I broke it immediately.

“Like crap.”

“Here,” he said, a stupid smile in his voice from the one word.

I opened my eyes to see him offering me a couple of little pills and a glass of water. I took them, grateful, even though I wanted to tell him to leave me alone in the dark for the next few months. Thankfully, he let me lay in his arms until the medication kicked in and took the edge off of my stupid hangover. I was at least thankful we didn’t have work that day.

My head was buried in his chest when I felt his lips against the top of my head. He rubbed my back, coaxing me back to the real world. Unfortunately I’d been a mess in the real world the night prior and did not want to deal with the aftermath.

“Baby,” he said quietly. “Are you alright?”

“Mhm,” I hummed, leaning back a little. Just enough to see him. “Medicine helped.”

“Good,” he smiled. “I was a little worried. You drank a lot more than you usually do last night.”

“I know. I was a mess.”

He smirked. “A little bit.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, brushing hair out of his face. “I’m sorry we argued.”

He was quiet for a second, then perked up a little when his phone dinged.

“You hungry?”

“I really don’t want to go out, love.”

He laughed softly. “I know. I ordered in while you were laying down.”

“You’re a dream, Spencer Reid.”

We tumbled out of bed, Spencer insisting on preparing everything after he thanked the delivery person at the door. He made me sit at the table and wait for him, not allowing me to do anything at all until all of the food was laid out. He delighted in it.

“There,” he said, setting down our drink at last as he sat next to me. “And you tried saying I didn’t love you.”

My eyes widened, not expecting him to say anything, but especially not like that. He looked at me.

“What?” he questioned.

“That’s how you’re going to tell me?” I asked with a laugh.

“I thought you knew anyways,” he shrugged. “I do love you, you know?”

I felt heat in my cheeks at that, a smile on my face that I couldn’t control. He smiled right back at me, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand.

“Do you really think we’ll last past summer?” I asked, hoping he was feeling honest.

He sighed, the smallest grin on his face.

“It’d be a cruel end if we didn’t.”

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid reader insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction

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ltsokaylove · 3 months

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“Endroit Sûr” Safe Place

A Regulus Black x Reader

Summary: After a long summer of not being able to write to one another, you reunite in his dorm at the beginning of sixth year.

!Tw!

Scars, very brief mention of abuse

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The amount of relief that flooded her system on the first day of sixth year was astronomical to say the least. Leaving Regulus alone in the company of his family was the last thing she wanted to do, but as a half blood, she didn't really have the option to go with him.

The fall air felt amazing on her face as she walked into the train station. After walking through to platform 9 3/4, her eyes betray her and search the station for Regulus and his family. Her eyes catch on Regulus and his parents before Shes startled out of her staring.

"Y/n!'

She turns and is met with the mischievous face of Sirius.

"Make it any more obvious and my mother will probably come hex you,"

Her face heats up immensely. "Shut up Siri," she mumbles into his chest as he embraces you lovingly. You feel the rumble of a chuckle as it breaks out through his chest. "Missed you idiot,"

"Missed you too chéri," he says with a childlike glint in his eye.

She rolls her eys playfully, pushing herself out of his grasp.

"I know, I know it'll always be my brother," he dramatically sniffles and grabs his arm as if he's physically wounded.

"Oh toughen up Padfoot!" James yells from behind her, tackling them both simultaneously and pulling her into a warm hug.

They find Remus and Peter before retreating into your usual compartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hogwarts felt a little different this time around, colder maybe? Or maybe the only thing that was bothering her was the fact that she couldn't get Regulus to look at her once throughout the entire feast, and he wasn't in his usual compartment on the train.

Her heart ached for him, and it wasn't a feeling she liked. The entire walk back to the Gryffindor common room her mind spiraled on how she would get James to lend you his cloak.

The second the boys ventured up the stairs to their dorm you were on their tails.

"Y/nnn, what do you want? To see us naked? Were gonna change."

She snorts, "Fuck off James I need your cloak".

James is laying stomach down on his bed facing her, his legs kicking up like a schoolgirl. "What for dear Y/n?" He teases with a smirk.

She rolls her eyes at his antics. "You know,"

"Fine"

"Thank you so muc-"

"But you're doing my charms homework for a week"

Her smile dissipates, "Fine, James, give it".

He smiles mischievously tossing it at her head.

"You little-"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You threw the cloak over your body, cradling it close as you stealthily navigated the hallways to the Slytherin common room like you had so many times before.

She creeps into his dorm silently, praying his roommates aren't there, even though she knows they're definitely out partying with the Ravenclaws since its their first night back.

The first thing she sees is beautiful, Regulus laying on his side with his back to her. The candlelight perfectly illuminates the muscles in his back. The breath is almost stolen from her as she admires the candid beauty of him, until she almost has a heart attack as she notices the scars running at his lower back.

She drops the cloak immediately, "Reg?" He doesn't even have a chance to be surprised before you're on the bed next to him cautiously examining his body, or the parts of it that aren't shielded by the black satiny sheets of his bed.

"Mon chéri?" he asks cautiously looking at you, as if its you that should be breaking down instead of him. "Why are you here?"

"God Reg, I've been so worried about you".

His stoic expression immediately drops when he sees the look on your face, he takes a slightly shuddering breath before exhaling.

"And when I couldn't find you on the train, or get you to look at me during dinner, I thought I messed it up somehow-"

He sits up, "You didn't do anything, wrong, I promise-"

She sighs, gently running a hand through his dark curls. "I don't even care about that right now, Reg. What happened?"

He looks at her with a heartbreakingly vulnerable expression, like he's ready to beg her for mercy. But for what? She doesn't know.

He's shaking, "Remember I love you so much, I would never hurt you or let anyone else-"

She swallows, "What is it Reg? I can take it,"

After a few beats he breaks the silence, "I got the mark- I didn't want to-" he swallows, "I just don't want to die yet".

He studies the expression on her face, "Please don't leave me," his voice is so tiny and desperate that you almost didn't hear the small plead.

"No, no. Of course I'm not leaving you- I'm just a little shocked as all," she immediately pulls him into her arms. As she does so she gets a view of the rest of the scars along his torso and chest and she starts to tear up, heartbroken. "What did they do to you,"

He seems pained but sounds unbothered when he answers you, "Oh you know," he laughs lightly, "Just mother".

She doesn't laugh with him. "I don't want you to stay in that house.."

"Its not that easy-"

"I know its just- I worry. I couldn't fathom losing you".

"You've got me," with says with finality, leaving no room for argument or dismissal.

She embraces him tighter.

"Stay the night love?" he asks looking down at her with hope filled eyes.

She grins hesitantly, "I was just about to ask".

He walks over to his closet and tosses her a sweater and sweatpants. “Here get comfy”.

She nods thankfully before quickly changing, ignoring the heat pooling in her stomach as she feels him watching her intently.

“Take a picture it’ll last longer,” she giggles throwing her old shirt at him.

He rolls his eyes playfully, and pulls her by the waist back into bed. His arms tighten around him and he pulls her closer, all the tension in his body disappearing the moment she touches him.

“You really are my endroit sûr, mon chéri,“

“Endroit sûr?” She asks quietly, face buried into the crook of his neck.

“Safe place, your my safe place darling”.

#marauders #harry potter #regulus black #regulus deserved better #regulus black x reader #regulus black x oc #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #i love him #marauders era #the marauders era #the marauders #regulus black kinnie #i kin regulus black #reggie #myreggie #regulus #regulus fluff #regulus angst

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enviedear · 7 months

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Hiii !! How are you? Pleasure to meet you!

I saw your engineering major!Anakin post and when I tell you I immediately twirled around on my bed and started kicking my feet like a fucking teenage girl… I’m not joking.

This is a headcanon that has been following me ever since I entered the beautiful world of Anakin Skywalker. Seriously. I even have a one shot about lmaoooo

Could you please elaborate on that? I would love to hear your takes, discuss them and just thirst over him together! Because god lord, I’m so grateful to found someone who was the same interest on engineer Anakin. Also bonus points for college student Anakin because that’s just hot as fuck

Thank youuuu

Mina

i literally am obsessed over this concept thank you so much for indulging me! i centered it over him in college mostly because— i just... it does things to me.

also what if i said engineering major!anakin fic in the works...

a few nsfw themes in here so minors dni i will block you <3

he strikes me as the type of guy you'd see once on campus and then immediately try to find him on the university's social media accounts.

he wouldn't be fucking anywhere until you find the engineering college's Instagram account

it hasn't had a single post in two years but it's okay because you find one of him !!!

and the only picture of his face is so grainy, but he's in it and he looks so fucking hot at his computer and that's enough

also he's totally unapproachable

not that he's a dick or anything, he's just cussing out all his professors in his head and worried about his last materials exam

i think in his (very limited) spare time he'd be into either metalworking or cars... probably both

like i think he could fix almost any car-related issue without having to go to a shop

axel on his car goes out? yeah he's ordering the part and putting it on his damn self

his motor blows up? he's spending his summer rebuilding it while taking sixteen hours of summer classes

and if he does have to go to a shop, it's strictly because he doesn't have time and he most certainly will pop the hood and check their work

also i believe he'd like stick shift

literally won't buy a car unless it's manual

"what the fuck is the point of an automatic"

he totally also learns how to tune in his free time and everytime you hear a car speed by you on campus you just know it's his work

now, if you're lucky enough to catch his eye i truly believe he'd be so fucking consumed by you

he'd ask you to go everywhere with him; he needs to study in the library? he's asking you to come. he has to give a dissertation? he's begging you to come watch him. it's 3am and he just finished his statics project? he's calling you like, 'baby please come with me to get food. I'll buy you a treat.'

also the biggest and most clingy bf ever in the history of the world

will stop doing his work to come watch you play the sims and just hold you (also tells you how to build a proper house despite you bing like,, "ani... the fun part is making them get into trouble not making sure their roof is durable.")

also likes to be incentivized with you

"if i get an a on this next test will you let me bend you over the desk?"

or, "i'll study better if you let me taste you, please baby?"

star-student, no question.

and he's so fucking smart it's a bit annoying because he'll bitch and moan about how bad he's doing while getting on the dean's list every year

the way he explains what he's working on is hot as fuck

numbers make sense to his mind in ways you will never understand, but good lord is it nice to watch his smart little mouth move

type of man to take you on a date into the city and point out the shitty infrastructure

"for as much rain as we get you'd think these fucking idiots would have put more drains."

"that bridge is due to fall in less than ten years, what the fuck were they thinking."

he's just the smartest boy, and you make sure to tell him any chance you get not that he agrees but he'll always say, "thank you pretty girl"

#he's literally so fucking smart and i just wanna tell him he's doing a good job #—engineering ani !#anakin x reader #modern! anakin #anakin skywalker x reader

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yelenabelovasbxtch · 9 months

Text

Crush On An Archer PT.1

a/n: Hey! Omg long time no see! I kinda maybe lost interest in writing for a bit there but tbh I think I'm back. No promises because I don't want to promise and then break your hearts but also I realllyyyy enjoyed writing this and I hope you all enjoy reading it! Will def be making a part two in coming days so stay tuned. LMK if you want to be added to the taglist, I am going to put some tags of past taglists below just in case they are interested in reading :) ALSO! Special shout out to @scmg11 because their writing is honestly what made me wanna get back into it. So,,I hope you enjoy!

Kate X Fem!Reader

Concept: Reader has a crush on Kate (school/Uni setting) and she doesn't know how to tell her.

Warning: Cussing, mentions of smut, IM TRYING TO WRITE SLOW BURN BUT BEAR WITH ME ITS NEW!

Word Count: 2.7k

You’re a month into your summer vacation and things couldn’t be more…boring. You love and appreciate your parents dearly for putting out the money so that you could attend a prestigious school in New York with a kick ass archery team but does it ever suck to be this far from all your friends for four months. To make the situation work, your dad had to transfer jobs to another state that pulls in a little more money annually with slightly more affordable housing but that means you aren’t even near the people you grew up around. Rural Mississippi is a fairly big step from living in Boston. Boston at least had people, out here it’s like you’re lucky if you get to meet a neighbour because the land has us all so far apart. In all honesty, although it’s boring, you really have one specific reason for being so bummed out. Towards the end of your last semester, you got started getting closer with one of the girls a year younger on your team, Kate. Typically the older girls competed and practised together and the younger girls did the same. Although you two were only a year apart it’s just how things worked out, so you didn’t cross paths very often. However, one day you were walking home from class, stopped to get coffee and basically bumped into her. The meeting was really brief but it was enough to make you catch feelings almost instantly.

Your interest in her grew as you followed her on Instagram and she followed back. Obviously you took a peak at her page and scrolled to the bottom laughing at the really cringey posts from 2015 she had still up. All you wanted to do was talk to her again but you didn’t know how, although she was a year younger than you she intimidated you so much. Her deep blue eyes were honestly enough to make you stutter whenever you had the chance to talk to her. A month had gone by already and you could not wait to get back to school so you could see her again. Luckily, coach has yearly “team-building” days before the season starts and they’re about half way through the summer so hopefully you can talk to her before then and maybe convince her to hang out when you come back to school.

Over the next week or so you liked a few story posts that she’d upload every now and again but the day finally came where you felt like you could swipe up and respond to it…y’know…maybe spark a little conversation.

“Damn Bishop, is this a new bow?” In response to a story post of her showing off some of her off season training.

“Haha yeah it is, flips out and everything…it's really freakin’ cool.” She replied almost instantly and that made a giant warm smile come across your face.

Shit– what do you say back? Your main goal was honestly to keep the convo going so you could subtly mention down the line hanging out with her.

“Yeah that’s sick, wow I’d kill to try something like that out.”

“Well next time I see you, please by all means give it a shot” She replies back.

“Might just have to take you up on that. How’s your summer going anyways?”

“It’s alright, kind of boring though. All my friends from school move back home and I am working for my mom’s company over the summer so it all is just kind of dull. I miss going out and having fun. Wbu?”

“Yeah, I hear that. I am SO bored here. I would kill to fast forward to the fall, I miss being at school honestly. There’s only so much I can do by myself here during the summer.”

“Ugh right! I want it to be school again too but don’t get me wrong, I love the summer, the weather is great here recently and the nightlife is amazing too. I just have nobody to go with, you know.”

“Yeah I get it. Trust me, if I could be there to go out with you I would, there is definitely no nightlife here haha.”

Shit. That wasn’t too forward was it? She is taking a while to respond to you. She hasn’t even opened the message yet.

*4 minutes later*

“Well, you’re going to be around for that team-building thing coach has us doing in a couple of weeks right?”

“Yeah, I should be.”

“Well, we can go out then if you want? Me and a few friends had plans but they’re all on the team and I’m sure they’d love to have you there too.”

“Yeah, that sounds great I’d love to!”

The conversation pretty much ended there and your contact with her was fairly limited, just a small comment here or there until you finally got to fly back to school for summer training. You settle back into the apartment you left a couple months ago, everything is still a mess where you left it but the kitchen and living room are even filthier since you are not around to clean up much after your roommates. You decided to wait until your team practice to talk to Kate about hanging out again. You didn’t want to come on too strong but also a small part of you feels like she forgot what she said months ago and you won’t end up seeing her, not outside of team stuff at least.

You grabbed your gear and headed to the field where practice was being held. You saw some of your friends from last year and decided to catch up with them before coach pulled you all in to start practice. You were trying your best not to make it obvious but your eyes were tracking all around you looking for Kate but she was nowhere to be seen.

*Whistle* “Okay team! Let’s bring it in. First, I just want to say thank you to everyone for making the effort to come back to campus for this, meeting I–”

“SORRY SORRY SORRY!” You hear the coach interrupted as footsteps are fast approaching the circle of archers.

“Hi Kate.” Says coach.

“I am SO sorry. My driver was running late and then there was traffic because of a giant accident, I think there was some battle in the streets again, I don’t know, either way, my bad coach, won’t happen again…I promise.” She says with the most adorable grin that is absolutely saying she will be late again.

“It’s alright Kate, it happens, I was just telling the team how thankful I am that everyone could make the trip back to campus for this.” Coach went on to talk about the drills you were doing for the day and man was it hard to not be in awe watching her. You tried your best not to stare all day because the last thing you wanted to do was make it obvious but fuck it felt impossible. The day came to an end and you packed up your gear, Kate was talking with the other seniors on the team as they were gathering their things and started to head out. You could feel your window closing to talk to her but interrupting her conversation with her friends and “inviting” yourself out with them just felt too weird and uncomfortable. If it wasn’t meant to be then it wasn’t meant to be but you would kill to be able to just spend an hour with her.

You watched as she started to walk away towards the parking lot with her friends when all of a sudden she motioned for them to hold on a minute and she turned around and jogged over to you.

“Hey y/n! Sorry we didn’t get to catch up much during practice, I saw your shooting though it’s looking good.”

Yeah…your face is bright red. Control your shit.

“Anyways, me and a couple friends are going out later tonight to a party that one of their friends is hosting. It’s like a Hawaiian beach summer nights themed type of party so if you have something like that to wear, that would be great.”

“Yeah, I might have something, I’ll take a look when I get home.”

“Cool! I’ll text you the address once I get it off my friend and I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah, sounds good!”

“Here, why don’t you put your number into my phone, I don’t like using DM’s that much.”

You take Kate’s phone out of her hand and fill out a contact for yourself, praying that she can’t hear your heart beating out of your chest.

“Cool, thanks, I’ll send you a text in a bit.” She says with a smile and then runs off to re-join her friends.

It seems silly sitting by your phone and literally watching the minutes tick by waiting for her to text you but that’s all you could do. The anticipation felt like it was killing you.

Your phone finally buzzed with a mystery number attached, “Hey y/n! It’s Kate. So…slight change of plans.”

Fuck. Is she bailing? Your eyes were glued on the three dots as she typed and you watched as they disappeared and reappeared.

“Turns out the party is actually around the corner from my place so if you wanted to just come here first, we could pre-game and shit and then walk over together? My friends said they were going out to get their hair done so they’ll be running late.”

“Hey Kate, yeah no problem that works for me just send me your address and lmk what time you want me there.”

Kate dropped a pin of her location to you with the text attached telling you to come over at 7pm.

7pm rolled around and you were already there outside but you kind of felt like you should wait another minute or two so you weren’t RIGHT on time. Or is it weird to be a minute late? But wouldn’t being on time be weirder? Whatever, you decided to just wait a minute and then knock on her door.

Knocking on her door was the most nerve wracking thing you ever did, you were genuinely shitting bricks.

“HEY! Come in come in!” Kate eagerly yells at you as she swings the door open. She’s wearing shorts with a bright purple bikini top and a button down Hawaiian shirt over top that doesn’t have a single button done up. Are you starring? Yes. Probably? Absolutely you are.

“Make yourself at home, feel free to grab a drink from the fridge, my roommates are out of town and left all their alcohol so help yourself.” She said with a laugh.

You heard that right? Her roommates are out of town. Just the two of you…you never know.

You grabbed a drink from the fridge and took a seat on the couch next to her and yeah…the drink started going down faster than usual because of all the nerves in your stomach. The two of you made small talk for awhile but the conversation started flowing a little more naturally about 2 drinks in. Were you still kind of awkward as hell? Yeah…a little. But at least you warmed up to her a bit and weren’t acting so weird. About an hour later, her friends showed up and grabbed you guys to head over to the party. Honestly, things were going so well with just the two of you that you didn’t even want to go to this party but if it meant you got to spend more time with her then there you were. You got to the party and you honestly knew practically nobody. You weren’t exactly a social butterfly but Kate clearly was. She was talking to EVERYBODY. The boys at the party especially loved her. There was lots of laughing and flirting going on, you could feel the jealousy building but acting out was definitely not an option. You ended up socialising with a few of the other people at the party but for most of the night you stuck by Kate’s side, the two of you got pretty drunk together, pouring shots for one another and dancing in the pit of people to extremely loud music. There was a point where it felt like it was just you and her and nobody else was there while the music was blasting into your ears and the two of you were jumping together to the beat and singing out the lyrics to whatever song was on at the time. Kate got really close to you until some guy would come and pull her away in an attempt to make a move on her. Although, it never actually happened. Kate always ended up finding her way back to you. At one point she grabbed your hand and pulled you into the middle of the crowd as the two of you sang (screamed) the lyrics to “love story” into each other's faces. The party, as all do, started to simmer down. You guys actually ended up being some of the last people at the party, you stuck around to the point where the music was gone and most people were just sitting around chatting halfway sober.

“Hey, I think I’m going to go home, I am super tired right now.” Kate says to you.

“Okay, I’ll walk with you, I left my bag at your place anyways so I have to grab it.”

“Right, sounds good.”

Although the two of you had been singing and dancing for hours, she looked just as perfect as when you left and you were trying your hardest not to stare at her while the two of you were walking side-by-side.

The walk back to her place was pretty quick, when the two of you got inside you went to grab your bag and get your things together. You were desperately trying to figure out what to say to her while you were organising your stuff. You didn’t want to come on too strong but you also want to make sure that she knows you had a good time…I guess just tell her exactly that?

“I had a really good time tonight, thanks again for inviting me.” You say as you’re leaning against the wall in her hallway.

“Of course, anytime. And I did too. We should really hang out more when we come back to school.” She replies.

Kate walks towards you and stops about a foot away leaning up against the doorframe to her bedroom. The hallway is super narrow and all you can think about is pinning her against the wall while you kiss down her neck and pull her tight by her waist.

“Yeah I think so too. I guess I should probably head out.” You say as she looks at you with the softest eyes that you swore said “please stay”. You lingered for a second longer as the two of you were looking at each other, tired, kind of tipsy and on the verge of ripping each other's clothing off. All you wanted was for her to actually ask you to stay a little longer but before she had the chance you were already walking towards the door.

“Have a good night y/n.” She says. “Text me when you get home safe.”

“I will. Sleep well Kate.” You reply as you turn to look at her with a smile and step out the front door.

That goodbye felt different. It felt like there were still feelings in the air and lots that wanted to be said that wasn't. It felt like the perfect opportunity with nobody around after an amazing night together has passed but you regret none of it. Although you weren’t able to get a confirmation on whether or not Kate even likes women like you do, you knew there was definitely a type of tension between the two of you that she definitely noticed.

-- END OF PT 1 --

Taglist: @yelenaslyubov @youreatotalposer @jeyramarie @flosbelova @bridgecitybrad @justthis-stuff @chloe7076 @ailenepuff @ravenclawbitch426 @mellowladyangel @amcg0605-blog @kassies-take @yelenaswife1996 @wandanatchick @lilroachsworld @inluvwithfictionalwomen @x666hours @natashaswife4125 @onetruwhore @karmasgxrl @hopelesslyfallenninlove @setsuna1415 @swiftdazer @imobsessedwithmilfss @madamevirgo @louisprettybab @splatalia-jumpanova @jediluka @t00manyfand0ms

#kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop fanfiction #kate bishop smut #hawkeye #hailee steinfeld fanfic #hawkeye fanfic #hawkeye series #hailee steinfeld wlw #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfield x reader #hailee steinfeld smut #marvel fanfic #marvel #wlw

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pebblysand · 8 months

Note

Hi can you do me a prompt? Cause I LOVE your writing! 💗

Ginny comes home from the 2014 quidditch world cup-reporting after a long long time away from harry and kids!

did it take me two and a half years to fill this prompt? yes. as evidence that no one should ever lose hope.

spring rolls, pizzas and curries

Tonight, after she gets home - after a smiling kiss hoisted up to the corner of his mouth, tippy toes and tight hugs to the kids - after a warm shower and a change of clothes, they'll order in.

It's the end of summer, that year. Leaves wilting in the trees; the wireless runs repetitive adverts for Hallowe'en decorations and this morning, when he headed into work, Harry noticed an irreversible sort of chill in the air; when Ginny comes down later, her hair wet over her shoulders, she'll be wearing a jumper. Lily and Al will soon hound her with questions, about the World Cup and about Namibia or about something else, and James will hurry into the kitchen too, just as she will pour herself a large glass of wine. He will be loud and lanky and almost-teenage. 'Where's food?' he'll ask, then.

And: 'Well, hello, Ronald,' she will laugh. Say.

Chinese, Indian or Italian - the kids will have their pick. It's a long-standing tradition in the Potter household since the dreadful winter of '09, when James had the flu and Lily was sniffling and Harry spent five days battling family germs on his own until Ginny came back from a work trip to save them all. He tiredly sunk into the couch next to her and: 'You should have stayed there,' he observed. Sighed like a headache. 'You're gonna catch it too.'

She shrugged. Smiled. Laid her head on his shoulder. He didn't have the heart to push her away. 'Let's order in, yeah?'

Harry will phone in. Everybody's favourites memorised like the faded lines at the back of his hand. There will be noise - James arguing with Al over the TV remote, Lily talking to herself, playing with her animal figurines and toy soldiers. She's built a whole ranch with Playmobils in her bedroom: fake horses and fake cowboys and fake fences - her magic makes it all move of its own accord - it's a bit of a nightmare.

The kind of nightmare Harry doesn't mind having.

They'll eat pizza on the couch or nems from clear plastic boxes scattered across the kitchen table, and the kids will fill Ginny in on everything she missed. Lily won't stop chatting and 'Mum' this and 'Mum' that, and James will say: 'Oh, will you shut up for once?' One of them - or both of them - will automatically throw back: 'James, don't talk to your sister like that.'

There will be second servings, thirds. Harry will smile and laugh, and feel like a weight lifted off his chest the moment she opened the front door just as easily as he will later clear the plates, with a simple wave of his wand. Ginny will go up to unpack, and he'll try to convince the kids to go to bed - with moderate success. James will try to convince him he needs a new broom, with no chance of success. Al will wandlessly tie his brother's shoelaces together before quietly retreating to his bedroom, a loud tumble ensuing with his victim falling flat on his face at the top of the staircase. He will deny having done any magic the next morning.

'Prove it,' he'll say.

Harry will want to smile (like a headache, too).

And, you know, he wonders - sure - but he's not jealous. Being jealous of his own kids would be fucking weird and, anyway, he's over it, now. He's even stopped being bitter. Ginny hasn't stopped being angry but there's something almost comforting about it, about her anger and her capacity for unrelenting outrage when they sent Petunia a card last Christmas and she wrote back: Please, take me off your mailing list.

'Cunt,' she said.

He winced or cringed, he's not sure. 'Yup.'

He's not jealous - not bitter - but he does wonder. He wonders and thinks of James. So, so tiny, in Ginny's belly. The first time he felt a kick against the tips of his fingers and held his breath - like, forever. And Ginny, who asked why he couldn't sleep, that night, watched him puff cigarette smoke out the window. 'I'm nervous,' he said.

'I'm the one giving birth,' she laughed.

'What kind of father do you think I'll be?'

He thinks of James and he thinks of Tom, sometimes. His palm against the skin of her stomach was sweaty - like warm, summer nights.

And, he looks at the kids and he wonders. What it would have been like. Growing up like that.

With them, you know?

He thinks of James again. Of James and of Albus and of Lily. He wonders if they know. That he's happy. That they're happy. That he's not jealous or bitter or angry. And, that love tastes like food. Like strawberries on Ginny's lips, and spring rolls, and pizzas and curries.

#hinny #hinny fic

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vintagemulti · 2 years

Text

rose coloured glasses

pairings: marc spector x reader , steven grant x reader

desc: welcome back to the land of the living. are you ready to fight for your life?

warnings: injury, blood, angst, swearing, smoking, sex mentions, death, murder, reader is a killer, reader is a fairly bad person, absolutely heart breaking angst because i am a sadist

a/n: sigh this took so long to write sorry guys, two more parts after this then it’s done!! remember to reblog as it does far more than likes

series masterlist

masterlist

the breeze blew your hair slightly, but it wasn’t a cold breeze. more summery, warmer. if it was the middle of summer and a hot day, it probably would have comforted you. but it didn’t - not right now.

you were afraid, alone, in a place that seemed like it went on forever and ever without stopping to catch its breath.

“is this…?” you almost whispered, looking around.

hathor seemed to understand what you were asking anyway. “the field of reeds, yes.”

it took a breath out of you, that somehow by some miracle, you had made it to a kind of heaven. you never expected this - not one bit. you were sure you had a first class ticket, straight to hell.

“it seems that in reliving your most traumatic experiences-”

“i got over it, yeah.” you finished for her, turning back to look at her. “so is that it? am i- fuck, am i stuck here? forever?”

a beat.

“hathor?” you were fully facing her now, body parallel to hers.

“it’s risky, y/n. there’s no guarantee you’d make it.”

your head tilted. “but there’s a chance?”

“yes,” hathor breathed. “yes, i suppose. if you can make it to the gates of osiris and he choses to let you pass, then you can go back to earth. if not… if not, you’ll end up the same way as if your scales didn’t balance.”

it took you only a few moments to weigh up your options. stay here, in this beautiful place forever, or go back to your life and find your husband? or die - again - trying? you were willing to take those odds.

“take me back,” you mumbled, nodding. “take me back, please.”

just as the words had left your mouth, the world around you changed once again. it went back to the familiar purple-orange skies, laced with clouds. you never expected to be happy to see it - but you were. you were relived that maybe, just maybe, you’d make it back.

while you were standing on the wooden deck of a ship the last time you were here, this time you were surrounded in sand, your white canvas shoes bright against the golden colour.

that’s when it kicked in - your fight or flight. you had been standing in one spot for too long, fuck, were you even trying to get back to your husband? run. it was the first thing your mind told you to do - run, and run until you’re at the gates. run.

time didn’t pass. it was paralysed - hanging in the air and suffocating everyone in the room.

marc still held you, weeping into your body. steven stood completely still. what was he meant to do? he wasn’t built for this - in fact, part of him was that he was meant for the opposite - to forget that death even existed.

the silence encompassed the entire space, not even the occasional bang from a few floors up daring to enter the room.

“we-” layla was the first one to speak. “we should put her somewhere, marc, we can’t stay here.”

it seemed as though she was the only one thinking rationally, because marc shook his head vigorously, pulling you tighter into him.

marc, please. steven was thinking too. give me control, i’ll do it.

marc seemed to have been waiting for those words, and for the first time in a long time, marc was more than relived to give steven control of the body.

the weight of you was the first thing that shocked steven. he had held you before, felt your body weight on top of him more times than he could count, but this? this was different. you were completely limp, lighter, even. you had less blood inside you, steven knew that. but for a second - just a second - he would have thought your weight loss was a lack of soul. the life, gone.

“come on,” layla put a hand on his shoulder. “there’s a nicer place than this.”

standing up, steven shifted you in his arms so he could carry you bridal-style. he was covered in your blood, from his hands all the way to his shoes. god, what he would do to go back in time and swap places with you. what he would do to stop marc’s anger, because the last thing he ever felt towards you was rage. pure, utter, disgusting rage. steven hated it.

every single bit of it.

layla led the way, down the hall and back down the stairs. she knew harrow wouldn’t be there. why would he? half way through his speech she had worked out what he was trying to do - pin everyone against y/n and then let them find her body. make them feel guilt, sadness, anger - then they would be easier to get rid of.

all the rage she felt for you had now transferred to harrow. she was ready to kill him - truly. layla would let marc and steven mourn you, while she would avenge you.

the room she led steven to was a room that looked totally out of place in a pyramid - it was covered in flowers. before steven could even ask, she explained;

“no, these haven’t been here forever. the ground underneath here’s fertile, so flowers bloom. and because there’s a water source, the survive.”

steven nodded, looking around. almost every kind and colour of flower was present, from red roses to baby’s breath. there was a puddle of water - well, bigger than a puddle. not quite a pond, though.

it’s like this place was made for you, he thought.

“i’ll, um,” layla cleared her throat. “i’ll leave you.”

he whispered a thank you, but he wasn’t sure any words even came out. he wasn’t sure he could form any words right now.

“fuck,” you mumbled, the various weeds in the sand almost tripping you up.

the gates were in sight now - only a hundred or so meters away. you hoped to any god that someone - anyone - would give you some sympathy and let you pass.

as you moved towards the gates, the ground seemed to solidify, turning to a stone-like pavement under your feet the closer you got.

giant was the first word that came to your mind. huge, giant, looming gates. they looked smaller from further away, and as you stood almost underneath them, they must have been at least two hundred feet tall.

you came face to face with a set of doors as tall as your house, bright white light seeping from the bottom. not really knowing what to do, you brought a hand up to knock the door.

“y/n l/n.” a voice boomed before you managed to knock.

the volume made you flinch backwards, but the voice itself wasn’t particularly alarming - it sounded familiar, friendly almost.

“you weren’t due here for a long time yet,” it spoke as you looked for a source. “but i suppose no one really is. enter, y/n.”

white light engulfed you as the doors swung open, too bright for you to be able to see what you were walking into. blinking as you walked through, your eyes slowly adjusted to the light.

it was just that - light. a completely white room, so white that it was like colour never existed. you thought of that one scene from harry potter - something like that.

“now, hathor tells me you’ve come to plead your case, correct?”

“yeah,” your voice broke. “yeah.”

“alright, let me hear it.”

still looking for a source to the voice, your eyebrows furrowed. “sorry- um, what do you want to know, exactly?”

an apologetic sigh travelled across the room. “sorry, i forget that not everyone is as well versed in these proceedings as your husband.”

the thought of steven made your heart twinge.

“i am osiris, although i’m sure you gathered that. to be allowed passage back to the mortal world, you must prove to me that you a deserving of it.”

it was then that all the hope you had drained out of you. deserving? there were seven billion people more deserving than you.

“sound good? let’s start with good deeds. what have you done?”

“i-” you paused. what had you done? “i- um…”

“come on now,” the voice encouraged. “there’s got to be something. charity donations, saved lives?”

everything seemed to crumble around you. there really wasn’t anything. you’d spent your entire life as a bad person - fucking teachers, stealing, killing people. maybe what you really deserved was to be dragged back into the sand and stay there forever.

a tear fell, and you were quick to catch it.

“alright, i get it, tough question. what about you as a person?”

this was only getting harder - you as a person? should you tell him about all the times you’ve lied, every argument, every human being you’ve killed? it wouldn’t do you any good to lie right now, surely?

“please, i-” you couldn’t stop the lump in your throat. “this is pointless, i- please.”

a beat.

“why do you think this is pointless?”

you shook your head, not really knowing if someone was watching or not. “i amen’t… i’m not a great person, alright? it would be easier for both of us if you’d just let me-”

“but are you loved?”

the question took you by surprise. you paused, eyebrows furrowing. “what?”

“is there people who love you? would mourn you? would feel that by you being gone, their lives are worse?”

the first person you thought of was marc. then steven, and layla, your friends, coworkers- the lady across the street who’s cat you always fed while she was gone. they would mourn you.

“now,” osiris spoke. “now we might be getting somewhere. would someone mourn you, y/n?”

“i think so,” you nodded. “a few people.”

“a few people is better than none. would someone’s life be worst without you?”

it took everything in you to not laugh. you had always been the one to ruin lives, after all. “i mean, probably.”

“good. now let me ask you again, what good deeds have you done?”

you took a breath. “well, when i was younger, i used to babysit, um, before i got kicked out. and when i got kicked out i- like, i gave all my stuff to charity. i know it’s not a lot, but i think that’s good.”

osiris hummed. “alright. what about caring for someone, you ever do that?”

“yeah,” the thought brought a smile to your face. “my husband gets in fights a lot.”

“oh, yes,” he laughed. “thanks to one of our own, no doubt.”

“that old bird, yeah,” you mumbled, making him chuckle. “he always comes home bloody and bruised, so i was normally left to patch him up.”

“would he mourn you?”

something stung in your heart. you didn’t have to guess or use maybes this time. “yes.”

“then you might not be a lost cause after all - but, i have to say, y/n, overall it is not looking good for you.”

you had been expecting that. “how so?”

“well, you’ve killed over a hundred people. that’s - that’s a new record for someone your age. you’ve ruined lives, including your husbands. i mean, i don’t have to tell you what you did, but… y/n, why? why would you do that?”

“it’s… fuck, i feel awful for it,” you choked out. “it’s such a stupid reason.”

“but a reason nonetheless?”

sighing, you nodded. “bushman - raoul - he hated having to share the money with marc. he thought that marc was this total dick, who was never nice or considerate - a completely and utter cunt, really. at the time, i was dating anton, you’ll know all about that i’m sure.

“anton was the one who employed bushman, and marc. he wanted some relic from a temple, or something like that, and marc and raoul were the best on the scene - apart from me. it’s so fucking stupid, but…

“when i met bushman in that bar, anton and i were fighting. we always fought - all the time. he used to buy me shit and leave the price tag on to make me love him again, but this argument… this one was different, i mean.. he brought up my family, you know?

“so i was mad. seeing fucking red. so when i went to that bar, i saw the perfect opportunity to fuck things up for anton. get one of his crew to kill the other one? that would be a massive blow - i mean, he’d probably never see what he was aiming to get anyway, because bushman would have to go on the run. you don’t kill your partner, not in the mercenary world, anyway.

“and that’s what i did. i told bushman to kill marc, to just leave with the money. fuck - it was so stupid. it didn’t even fix anything, either. as soon as anton found out he went fucking mental. like, off the rails. screaming and yelling and punching walls. we broke up that night.

“and it wasn’t him who broke up with me, by the way. i was willing to apologise, but then he hit me. so it was game over.”

you took another breath. why did this still feel so raw? like it didn’t happen a decade ago?

“go on,” osiris prompted.

“that’s it. that’s why i did it. to get back at my boyfriend, who i ended up breaking up with a week later anyway. and look what it did, huh? fucked up everyones life.”

a moment of silence passed, you couldn’t quite tell if it was good silence or not.

“y/n,” osiris finally spoke. “all the memories you had to go through, i saw them as well. there’s things in there that you can’t explain. not just getting back at boyfriends - y/n, you’ve killed people. for the sake of killing people.”

you swallowed. had you really expected your shitty explanation to be enough? not really. you were what he made you out to be. a monster. the ruiner of lives, someone who only left death and sadness in her wake.

“i understand,” your voice was hoarse and gravelly, scratching its way up your throat. “please- please, just let me see him once more.”

“i’m afraid i can only show you what he’s doing at this moment, and he won’t be able to hear you, or see you. hathor can accompany you, and i will be watching.”

nodding, you watched the room around you shift and change, until you were standing in a completely different environment.

hathor was beside you once again, standing a few steps away. she looked almost disappointed, hurt that you hadn’t plead your case as well as you could have.

the room was completely out of place for where you assumed you were. the space was completely covered in greenery, flowers blooming from almost every corner and crack in the ground. there was a small well of water on the opposite side of the room, barely visible through the yellowed, dim lighting.

whatever this room was, it was beautiful.

footsteps broke your trance, your head snapping to the doorway.

it was layla who entered first, face blotchy and mascara slightly smudged under her eyes - with just that sight, you knew exactly what you were about to see.

steven stepped into the room, you in his arms. but you didn’t look at your body, only him. the way his hair was messy and tousled, his big brown eyes bloodshot and puffy, even his posture was different. shoulders slightly more slouched than normal, no longer a skip in his step.

it broke your heart.

the two came deeper into the room, steven pausing almost in the direct centre, never taking his eyes off of your body.

“i’ll, um,” layla cleared her throat. “i’ll leave you.”

if you hadn’t been listening carefully, you wouldn’t have heard steven’s almost nonexistent ‘thank you’, and for a moment you thought your mind was playing tricks on you. even his voice was different.

layla was also the first to leave, eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before she turned and walked out of the room. you noticed her jaw clench on her way out, eyes filling with a familiar fire.

time stopped. steven stood, completely unmoving, for at least a minute. after what felt like a million years, he fell to his knees.

you rushed over to him, forgetting for a moment that he didn’t even know you were there.

steven moved your body, so you were laying flat on the grass-and-flower-covered floor, a small amount of your blood still spilling out and onto the daisies below you.

it once again hit steven that he was not made for this. he could not process any of this - never mind come up with the words to say, to say goodbye. for the second time that day, he welcomed the switch.

you felt the room around you change, the air turning thicker and stuffier. it meant only one thing to you - marc.

“oh, god, baby,” he whined, bringing his hand to your hair. “my baby.”

tears stung in your eyes, and you too fell to the floor, opposite him with only your dead body separating you.

“i’m sorry, baby, ‘m sorry,” marc said, tears dripping onto your body. “this is all my fault, all my fault, i’m sorry.”

“no.” you spoke, not even caring that he couldn’t hear you. you meant it so much - so fucking much - that it’s weight would carry through to the living world. the single syllable held so much, so much pain, anger, sadness, that everyone on planet earth would hear it.

marc took a breath, hand still running through your hair. “i can’t- what am i meant to do? baby please, i can’t do this without you. i can’t, you know i can’t. neither… neither of us can.

“i’m sorry i was angry, baby, i know- i know you didn’t mean it. you didn’t know what would happen, you were so young. fucking bushman, it was his fault and only his. you didn’t pull that trigger and you never would.”

not taking your eyes off of him, you watched marc bubble out his last words to you.

“i love you so much. god, baby, i adore you. if i could, i would take all of this. every last bit. it would be me lying dead - fucking hell, it should be me lying dead. you don’t deserve this, you’re an angel.

“you’re my angel, baby. you saved me. over and over and over again, you saved me. you brought me back from the edge every fucking day and every fucking night. i wouldn’t be here without you.

“y/n, please, you can’t… i don’t know how to live without you, baby. it’s always been you. since the day we met, i have always loved you. fuck - maybe i’m the worlds worst husband at showing it, but i have loved you with every moment of my life.

“if i could take back every argument i would, i swear to god i would. i never, ever, deserved you. you should have been with someone better than me, someone who would love you properly and not treat you like shit.

“i think you knew that, though. but you fucking stayed. through it all. even when i told you about steven, you stayed. never cheated, never tried to leave. fucking hell, baby, i don’t know what i did to deserve you.” marc brought his spare hand to rub his eyes.

you didn’t even try to stop the tears coming at this point. you let them - let them fall down your face and create a little puddle, watering the flowers.

“from the day i met you, y/n, you saved me. even with all this khonshu bullshit, you… you were the only real superpower i ever had, baby.”

a hand flew to your mouth to stop the sob come out. it would have sounded more like a scream - this was torture. worse than you had ever endured in your entire life, this was the worst thing you had ever had to watch.

“i love you baby, so fucking much. i know what we said in our vows but death won’t ever change that. wherever you are, i will always love you,”

he moved your body, shifting you so that you were lying completely straight and flat, and marc took both of your hands and laid them across your stomach, your hand wearing your wedding ring on top.

marc leant down, kissing your lips one final time, holding your face as he pulled back. his tears still dropped, washing away tiny specs of blood that covered your face.

stared, not caring that a literal god was in the room (she was just as upset, for what it matters), sobbing like a child at the scene before you.

your husband pulled away, getting back onto his feet, although he seemed slightly wobbly. he looked down at your body, and for just a second - a spilt second - you swore he made eye contact with you, like he knew you were sitting there.

“forever and always, baby. i’ll be counting down the days until we meet again.”

as he walked out of the room, the scene around you once again faded to the bright-white room. you remained on the floor, chest heaving in broken sobs as hathor stood in the opposite corner.

this was it, you thought. you would never see him again, ever. forever would go by, and you would never hold your husband again. never would you kiss him, sleep next to him, feel him inside you.

you would never have children, never sit until god knows when with steven as he babbled on about something or other, never have him compliment you, never have one of steven’s cups of tea, never have to patch him up again, never-

a ringing noise invaded your ears, making you open your eyes.

was the room this colour last time? no, you would have sworn it was completely white. so why, why on earth was it getting darker?

hathor laughed from the corner, your head snapping to her.

“osiris,” she smiled. “you old softie.”

it was like waking up from a nightmare. pushing yourself up, gasping for air, covered in cold sweat.

everything hurt. aches and pains shot through your entire nervous system, sending alarm bells straight to your brain.

you blinked. and again, and again. what the fuck?

it was the same room. the same flower-covered, yellow lighting, little puddle of water, indent in the flowers from where marc had been sitting.

everything was the same.

but this time, you weren’t watching from a third person perspective. you weren’t weightless, you could feel your heart pumping - so strong you thought it might beat out of your chest.

you were alive.

how were you alive? had seeing your husband break down really had such a big effect on osiris? god, maybe he was a big softie.

this was a strange sensation. everything burned a little brighter, colours were more vibrant. where you would have heard silence before, you could now hear hundreds of sounds. you could feel your blood running through your veins, your eyes focusing and un-focusing in the light.

“holy shit,” you whispered. “fuck.”

as much as everything hurt, the pain in your head was far greater than anywhere else. you brought a hand to it, feeling a deep cut just about your right eyebrow - exactly where you were shot.

but hey, you would take a cut over a bullet any day of the week.

with the feeling that time was ticking by, you pushed yourself onto your feet, the sensation of blood rushing to the limbs almost being ticklish.

walking in the same footsteps as marc and layla had, you left the room, a trail of blood following. the hallway was dead silent, quieter than you would have expected. were people still even here? you had no idea how long had passed from when you had died.

a bang down the corridor answered your question.

feet slightly unsteady as you walked to the source of the noise, you came closer to the room, bangs getting louder with every step.

find khonshu’s ushabti.

you flinched, instantly looking for the source of the voice. it was one that you recognised, mind registering it has hathor’s voice.

“what?” you hissed.

silence. find khonshu’s ushabti? like, those little stone things steven had told you gods get put into when they misbehave? surely khonshu wasn’t sentenced to that, you thought. but then your better judgment kicked in. he was on his last chance, after all.

“alright,” you nodded, talking to thin air. “sure.”

making your way down the hall, every room was empty. there could only have been two or three rooms left, and you’d need a lot of luck to find the exact item you needed in one of them.

voices sounded from outside the hall, making you question where exactly you were. they were echoing, as if in a massive chamber. what the hell?

quickly walking to the nearest exit, you poked your head around the corner.

surely fucking not. surely.

was this… the pyramid of giza? here? it sure looked like it, judging by the huge statues of different gods and massive interior.

what an impressive place to say you died in, you thought.

you watched the people in the chamber, they seemed to be waiting for someone. you hoped it wasn’t-

harrow walked into the chamber, coming from the corridor right next to you, everyone instantly turning to look at him. for fucks sake.

it was hard to make out exactly what he was saying, but in his hand was what you recognised as an ushabti. not khonshu’s, though, right? you prayed it wasn’t, because your job would have gotten ten times harder if it was.

harrow went silent for a second, before he threw the ushabti to the ground, making you flinch slightly.

sand collected around where it had smashed, the cloud getting taller and taller by the second, becoming more dense and coloured - until a massive creature was left.

your jaw dropped. this thing - this god - was exactly how steven described ammit. the exact thing that you were trying to stop harrow getting his hands on.

“fuck,” you whispered, seeing ammit get used to being out of her stone casing.

the urgency of finding khonshu’s ushabti pressed into you, your eyes scanning for a hopeful-looking corridor. then you realised - harrow had came from the next corridor over. with an ushabti.

you almost ran into the next corridor, praying no one spotted you. this hallway instantly seemed more promising, small torches lining your way.

the corridor opened into a single room. a huge, dimly lit room, the most noticeable feature being the hundreds of shelves on the wall. bingo.

rushing to the shelves, your eyes scanned for anything that you recognised as khonshu, starting from the top row down. you were beginning to lose hope when you reached the bottom rows, but there it sat.

a perfect depiction of khonshu.

picking it up, the grainy texture was cold in your hands - but it wasn’t in your hands for long. you threw it to the ground, a similar cloud of sand gathering around the impact area.

you never understood what marc meant when he said khonshu was terrifying. how scary could a big bird be? well, you were eating your words.

a massive skeletal figure looked over you, crescent shaped staff casting a shadow on your face.

y/n spector is back among the living, then. khonshu said, his voice booming in your ears.

“yeah, looks that way, doesn’t it?”

his massive head tilted. and here i expected your husband to have the attitude.

you scoffed. why did everyone always think marc was the only tough one?

ammit has been released.

turning to look at him, you couldn’t hide your impatience. “no shit, sherlock.”

a gust of wind blew through the room, making you laugh lightly. steven was right about his temper tantrums.

we must bind her in something more powerful than an ushabti - a human. khonshu stated.

you were about to nod, but then it hit you; “we?”

khonshu paused. only an avatar can bind someone. marc is not strong alone.

it almost made you laugh. “fuck no. i’ve seen what you do to marc.”

your husband will die if you don’t.

taking a few steps away, you shook your head. “i will do anything but that.”

and khonshu was gone. to see marc and steven, presumably, but gone nonetheless. god, you couldn’t stand him.

another bang sounded, far closer to you this time. the force of it shook dust and sand from the ceiling, some of it falling onto your head.

only an avatar can do it, and marc will die if you don’t. for fucks sake, why did it have to be you? of all people to manipulate into this, why you? which god would possibly take you as an avatar?

oh. oh.

“hathor?” you whispered, only half expecting a response.

a beat.

“hathor?” it came out more urgent than last time. “please.”

it was a strange feeling, a god speaking through you. it took you by surprise, feeling your mouth move with words that were not your own; yes, y/n?

“make me your avatar.” you were begging by this point.

i can, but it’s not that simple, you know?

“please,” you hissed, falling against a nearby wall. this was a weird feeling. “you can give me the ins and outs later, just please-”

a bang, before the ceiling right in front of you crumbled, almost squashing you where you stood.

then you felt it; your entire body being overtaken, like your heat beat went backwards, a tingling in your fingertips.

as the rubble cleared, you saw the chamber in front of you. looking down at yourself, you noticed the change of clothes.

material the same reddish-colour as hathors dress covered your body, gold detailing on the sides. it was a strange material - soft but harsh, protecting your body.

“nice outfit choice,” you smiled.

thank you. something special for my new avatar.

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rosefinch07 · 2 months

Text

Just imagine being jason in the highschool au

You become friends with a boarder kid on scholarship who wants to become a dentist

Batman seems to have invited blue beetle to gotham for a longer period of time than usual because he's always helping during situations

The guy has his first encounter with seeing a dead body when joker breaks out and blows up a few buildings

Dick fights with bruce that night so you go to your best friend's dorm for the night, he looks like he needs the hand holding more than you do

You cut his hair when he complains about it being too long and thick and an oil sink

You get a bruised cheek during sparring with blue beetle bc he finally landed a hit on you but he freaks out and says sorry a bunch

Your best friend then thinks you have an abusive boyfriend before you say it was just because you were practicing fighting with someone because he can apparently see through concealer that tricks everyone else

one day you fall in love with the guy when screwing around in the rain with him after school

You fight with bruce and go to his dorm, going to his dorm is becoming a pattern

You freak out because you think bruce is going to kick you out, your best friend bets otherwise

The stakes are getting him a pop

You get caught when leaving the dorm

Bruce gets called to pick you up

Your friend SPRINTS down to the office to wait with you, he's half dressed, you're still in your pjs and a hoodie you stole from him

Bruce arrives in all his brucie glory

You end up owing your friend a pop

You go to homecoming together as friends

Your best friend gets insanely drunk after one cup of punch because someone put in vodka into the punch bowl

You file away that he has a really inflamed back right at his spine between his shoulderblades, but he says he doesnt know the reason and you just focus on him being safe

You start patrolling with blue beetle

You fall even more in love with your friend by the day, you get a girlfriend to try and escape because you dont want to mess up your friendship you have with him

He is supportive of you, but something weird flickers in his eyes every now and then

On patrol you confide in blue beetle, he says to tell your girlfriend the truth and wishes you luck with your friend

Your friend almost gets kidnapped when going to the store because he went in his uniform

He says that batman saved him before changing the topic by asking to kiss you

You start dating that day

You ask bruce when you get back to the manor

Bruce backs him up even though there was no mention from the other kids at school that batman was there

You let it go

Freshman year turns to sophmore year

You keep hiding that you are robin and your boyfriend is also hiding something from you, but he assured you that it wasn't dangerous so you let him keep it private

Finals pass, he goes back to texas and his family like he does every summer

He visits, though, so you go on dates with him every chance you get

You want to find your birth mother

You look at leads

You find one and the night before your boyfriend's flight you go to his hotel room and say goodbye

You say "catch you on the flip side, don't miss me too much, yeah?" And he says "if you somehow find a way to die, i'm bringing you back to life just to kill you myself"

It was clearly meant to just be a joke

Joker

Warehouse

Bomb

You ended up finding a way to die anyways

You wake up in your grave, get picked up by the loa, and come back to gotham as red hood

Your (ex??) boyfriend is kneeling at your grave, the stupid capsule prize ring from a carnival on a necklace clasped in his hands that you have the match to

He's singing through silent tears, singing songs that you two used to sing together when doing karaoke

He's older now, he's clearly back in gotham for college, he has his gotham university student id clipped to his shirt

You dont know if you're welcome

You don't know how to begin to explain

So you dont try to

You just stare from the rooftops at the boyfriend you left behind

#rose finch fic rambles #jaime reyes #jason todd #gunbug #jaime reyes x jason todd #jason x jaime #jaime x jason #blue beetle #red hood #jason todd x jaime reyes

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scoops-aboy86 · 12 days

Note

chubby Steve fic idea:

Eddie and Steve take the kids to a fair and Steve gets excited for all the treats.

Thank you thank you thank you for this, because I've been struggling to figure out what I wanted to do with the final installment of the love spell AU fic and this has finally kicked my ass into gear. I'm still working on it, but here's a teaser... Just shy of 1k words.

(If anyone wants to be added to the tag list for when I post the complete chapter, comment here to let me know. 😊)

The kids have been clamoring to go to the county fair, so when August rolls around they load everyone up in Eddie’s van and the Wheeler’s station wagon and head out of town to the Roane County Fairgrounds.

Steve meets them there, because he’s picked up some work helping with the rides set-up and has been at the fairgrounds since ass o’clock in the morning. Which conveniently means they’ll also have the BMW there at the end of the day, and Robin—who Steve has made a point of helping get her license—can drive it back with the kids.

It also means that Steve gets to see his boyfriend’s eyes go wide when Eddie sees him for the first time today, takes in the way his shirt clings to his broad chest, dark with sweat down the front from the exertion of lifting and carrying all morning and cut down into a muscle tee at the sides, scars be damned. And unlike Eddie, who looks like he’s starting to pink under the sun already, Steve has been building up a healthy tan all summer parked out by the pool whenever he has down time; plenty of skin and new freckles to show off.

The kids are at the head of the pack, so they don’t notice Robin elbowing Eddie until his mouth snaps shut and he raises hand to rub faux casually at his mouth before shooting her a betrayed look—and Steve just knows that Robin told him to stop drooling in public.

Then Dustin slams in for a hug, catching Steve in the doughy middle and just about winding him. He gives an over-exaggerated wheeze and pretends to stagger. The motion helps him get Dustin into noogie, and from there the rising sophomore doesn’t stand a chance against all the muscle he still has from his jock days, regardless of the extra padding over them now.

“Yield, I yield!” Dustin yelps.

(“Why are they doing that?” El whispers loudly down to Max in her wheelchair.

“It’s a dumb brother bonding activity,” Max informs her with a roll of her eyes. “Just observe, like animals at the zoo.”

El continues watching them with a perplexed furrow between her brows. “Will and Jonathan don’t do this.”

“That’s because they were raised by Joyce Byers. They’re slightly more evolved than your average teenage boy.”)

“Butthead,” Steve chuckles as he lets Dustin go. “Okay, I’ve got ride tickets to hand out. Once you use these up, if you want more you have to buy your own. Got it?”

There’s a chorus to the effect of yes Steve, with varying amounts of eye-roll. Robin and Eddie have caught up by now, the latter circling around closer to him while he dolls out strips of tickets. A lively debate springs up almost immediately between Dustin, Mike, and Lucas over how to best maximize their haul, with Will patiently moderating every three-way tie to more subtly inject his own opinions into the discussion. Max gleefully heckles them about every ride that she can’t go on, with her legs still in casts and arms in braces, digging in with pithy little guilt trips that, as far as Steve can tell, aren’t crossing the line into actual upset or self-pity territory. (Something to keep an eye on.)

He’s glad they’re excited about the rides, and even the games that will definitely end up cutting into their pocket money by the time the day is done. But Steve is excited for something else entirely, and is antsy to get the show on the road.

“Alright, that’s everybody. Now why don’t you all go enjoy the fair I’ve been slaving over, you little assholes. The Gravatron in particular is sick.”

That does the trick of getting rid of most of the crowd, El and Max break off in a slightly different direction, probably towards the Ferris wheel that El’s been practically vibrating to ride ever since someone explained what one was, having already settled a time and place to meet up with the rest of the group later.

Robin takes her tickets with a bright thank you thank you thank you because she’s meeting up with Vickie soon for their first official date. She’s about to run off when Eddie stops her and hands over all but four of the tickets Steve had just given him. “Go knock her socks off, Robbie,” he says, and then messes up her hair.

She flips him off, and Steve too when he snickers a, “Be safe, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” before flitting off. Telling him with her expression and a dynamic eyebrow movement that she doesn’t think it would be a high bar to clear. Which… fair, honestly.

“And then there were two,” Eddie says, sidling up to Steve a grin and a raking glance that sends a trickle of anticipatory heat down his spine. “You ready, sweetheart?”

Before Steve can answer, his stomach does it for him with an audible grumble—not the first he’s experienced while working today, but definitely the loudest. He automatically rests a hand over it, kneading in a gentle massage to calm it down the way he’s been doing for a while, though it doesn’t seem to be helping now that he knows it’s time.

“Sounds like a yes to me,” Eddie murmurs, long lashes dipping as his eyes go subtly darker, then waves dramatically ahead. “Well, what are we waiting for, my liege? Let us partake of the festivities that await!”

He marches off, leaving Steve to follow with a laugh and shake of his head, utterly charmed by his total nerd of a boyfriend who is about to take very good care of him.

Tag list: @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth @zombiethingy

#wg steddie #love spell no go au #chubby steve harrington #feedee steve harrington #feeder eddie munson #this is just the set-up really so it absolutely is a tease #but as i have not written the rest yet #and don't want this ask to languish in my inbox forever...#scoops words

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lemonhoarddragoness · 10 months

Text

Wayne & Benny headcanon: Grits, Fish, and Breakfast

Just a small headcanon I ended up thinking wayyyy too much about after seeing a post on twitter from @feral-jackdaw about Wayne eating at Benny's Burgers and talking with @/The_KingKas (twitter) about it. Forewarning it's about to get v sad folks.

Wayne isn’t from Hawkins, but he used to drive through it often when he had a trucking gig and a rig.

Benny’s Burgers, like most diners right off the highway, is like a lamp on the side of an old farmhouse in the deep of summer and it draws in the truck drivers like flies - Wayne is no exception.

Over breakfast one day, Wayne mentions his nephew, Eddie, and how he’s been asked to take him on since his father (Wayne’s idiot brother) is headed for a prison cell. He’s a good kid, but Wayne doesn’t know how he’s going to manage it while also being on the road all the time.

‘Move here,’ Benny tells him, like it's as easy as drying off the dishes, ‘Quiet, outta trouble. Good jobs around.’ ‘No family though,’ Wayne counters, but he doesn’t argue when Benny responds back, ‘Doesn’t sound like they’re doing you much good anyhow.’

Wayne sells his trucking rig to purchase a beat up mobile home in Forest Hills trailer park and hauls his scrawny, baldheaded nephew up to Hawkins, Indiana, from the south. They don’t know anyone but Benny, but the union jobs ‘round here pay good and they’ve got one another, so Wayne tells him, ‘They’ll be alright.’

When Wayne pulls into the diner’s parking lot after getting off work, it’s empty more often than not, but the smoke from the roof and the smells that come with it let him know the building’s open for business. Scuffing his boots outside, he trudges into the diner and finds his usual seat vacant and waiting.

‘Grub’ll be ready in five,’ Benny grunts into the griddle, Wayne’s food already started long before he arrived. Benny knew he’d be here, because he’s here nearly every day and has been for almost a decade now.

A cup of joe is poured and Wayne takes it, the din of sleep deprivation and hunger enveloping any notion of conversation. Benny doesn’t mind though, never has, and as he prepares Wayne’s breakfast on a plate he tells him about what he’s read in the newspaper this morning and how the game went that Wayne missed while he was at work. Wayne doesn’t say anything until he’s at least gotten a cup and half his breakfast down.

Once he’s more lively, they talk about things around town, trade fishing lures wrapped in newspaper across the counter like its an illegal smuggling operation, discuss their next weekend out on the lake, and how Benny might cook a catch for breakfast.

Wayne always shows off Eddie’s newest yearbook photo when it comes out and tells Benny what a good kid he is, no matter what phase he’s going through.

Before he heads home, Benny often gives him something for Eddie to eat, to keep the growing boy going.

‘Don’t do nothing stupid now,’ Benny’ll tell Wayne as he gathers up his things to head back to the mobile home. It’s his way of telling him to drive safe, tired as he is still. ‘Coffee’s kicking me in the teeth right ‘bout now. No chance of that.’

In middle school and early high school, Eddie busses tables at the dinner for a few bucks every now and again. He’s awkward at it and doesn’t much like it, but Benny is a family friend and it’s like helping out, but he gets money in return. Structured employment isn’t for Eddie, but it helps him buy his first guitar.

Benny lets the boys play one gig, their first and only in Hawkins at the diner. It’s a Wednesday evening, hardly anyone around, and they’re terrible, but it’s the beginning, and to Eddie, it’s everything.

The morning Wayne rolls up the dusty dirt road to the diner to find the parking lot buzzing with police officers and emergency vehicles, the lights bounce off the windowpanes of the diner like a firework display. There’s no smoke coming from the roof of the diner, and no smell of cooking food or percolating brew.

As the ambulance ambles slowly by his beat up old truck, Wayne knows: Benny’s gone.

Jocks settle into the remains of the diner with an authority and an impunity that makes Eddie’s stomach roll. They claim it as their private lounge, rearranging things to their liking and defacing it with their own juvenile interests.

Eddie breaks into the diner one night, a little high and little drunk, and he ransacks the bullies' lair, tossing their things in an attempt to break and disperse them. He pulls old pictures off the walls.

Hopper pulls Eddie out of the building and throws him in his squad car - he wants Eddie to explain himself, but he won’t say anything. ‘Ought to keep him in a jail cell and book him’, Eddie’s told, but instead the sheriff calls Wayne.

It’s the closest to a righteous anger that Wayne’s ever felt toward his nephew - hearing the boy trashed Benny’s old place - but he comes down to the station to collect him anyhow.

That disappointed anger melts when he looks at Eddie through the bars of the holding cell and sees the distraught and dejected teen before him. Eddie doesn’t say much, but instead reaches into his vest and pulls out a tattered and slightly mangled photo which he passes through the bars, ‘I thought you should have this’.

Two men, Benny and Wayne, stand side by side, their hands clasping the shoulders of a young kid - barely fourteen years of age, whose head is drowning in a tackle-covered fisherman’s hat and holding onto a flopping fish for dear life.

Wayne can’t hug him tight enough.

When the local newspaper posted Benny Hammond’s obituary, Wayne sat at his coffee table and cut it out, carefully storing it away in his lockbox, thinking solemnly to himself how that was the last young man he would have to see buried in Hawkins, Indiana, and what a shame this loss was.

He never would have guessed only three years later he’d be cutting out another obituary from the same newspaper; this one for his nephew.

The cutout lays atop Benny’s in the lockbox as Wayne packs his things and takes stock of this once seemingly quiet, little town off the highway.

#wayne munson #benny hammond #eddie munson #stranger things headcanon #stranger things #my writing #Mine

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hypocriticaltypwriter · 7 months

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A random ask for mi wifey👀✨

For chrysta and the boys how did they know they were ready to have kids? Who wanted to have kids in the first place? Was it planned and talked about? And how was chrysta during each of her pregnancy’s? ((Moods,cravings,etc)) who did she tend to cling onto more???

Bonus: was there a lullaby/song that she sang her babies to sleep???🥺

GUYS.... I NEED A MINUTE MJ IS LETTING ME INFODUMP I- ✋️✋️✋️😔😔😔 OUUUGHHH

OK ILL TRY NOT TO RAMBLE TOO LONG I PROMMI ILY 🙏🙏🙏 💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷

SO, Let's see where we should start first... >:]

The idea of kids between the boys was one that actually wasn't mentioned a lot... And if it was, it would probably be dropped after a minute or two of the conversation. One of the biggest concerns with it all was the fact Chrysta was still human at this point, (Fun fact, she was human for both Anastasia AND Jennifers births, she turned after some issues with Jenny's brith that the guys just couldnt risk again) and she wasn't really prepared to take the next step and enter through the Veil of immortality.

It wasn't like anything truly onsided! (Like Chrysta wanted kids, and the guys didn't, or vice versa.) Simply the life and hassle of chasing baby vampires around the Boardwalk just didn't seem like something in the cards for the coven.

Oh... But then there was that weird maternal smell starting to linger around the cave - almost similar to the one that'd hang around Star when she was left as Laddie's caretaker. And that murmur in Chrysta's heartbeat began to become way too distinct to be a murmur as the sound grew stronger... Especially to David.

While the other guys could smell and hear just enough to start panicking and getting a little nervous, it was 10× stronger for David, which made him catch on real quick that Chrysta was pregnant, and it was with his kid.

Now, the only problem they were trying to figure out before going into full panic mode was... Did she herself know?

Short answer? Yes. 🫣

After like- 2 months in of acting as though everything was all good and normal, the nights on the back of bikes was starting to become too risky and wreckless to take chances, and the smells adorning the boardwalk were too strong to just run straight to a restroom to throw up that evenings meal and excuse it with having to freshen up makeup in the bathroom.

She knew it was only a matter of a few more days till she broke the second the boys had come to her window late at night and saw Chrysta hurriedly shove a bunch of her old scrapbooks of her as a baby with her mom and any other childhood memories glued into the pages for whenever she got homesick in the summers.

David looked right her the second they were invited in and stated blunt and with no room for argument: "You're hiding something from me, aren't you Chrysta?"

Didn't take long for the poor thing to burst into tears, stating in between sobs that she was scared but she was prepared to take the next step and become a Mama, and she felt damn ready to leave Santa Carla and do it herself if she had to.

Dont worry David got her to calm down and reassured her she wasn't about to leave Santa Carla, and she was definitely not having and raising a kid (let alone a VAMPIRE) by herself. And she's got four daddy's to help her out. 🥺🥺🥺 She just cried harder after that LMAOOO

So then after sweet Annie was born, it wasn't long until the baby fever kicked in for the rest of the boys, and they started realizing they wanted a chubby, green-eyed bundle of fangs and giggles resembling themselves to give a little more lovin' to. 🫠💜💜💜 Chrysta had fight them off with a stake for a good while there BAHAHAHA

And how was each of her pregnancies?

About six months in Chrysta actually felt pretty good! It was just the normal pregnancy things you'd expect and nothing she was too worried about that she hadn't read about in the baby books... But those last two months were rough.

Given she was a human, it wasn't a surprise that her body had a hard time taking the energy it did to prepare herself for a baby vampire, so instead of taking just half the energy it would, it took ALL if her energy and health and pretty much left her super sick those last two months.

Her legs hurt, her ankles were sore, everything was too hot, her back and abdomen ached, and for some reason she really wanted to eat/craved raw meat. 😬😬

Of course things went pretty smooth during the birth, and Chrysta only took a few weeks to recover and get back to her old self! It wasn't until the second pregnancy that the scary stuff happened.

What Chrysta went through her last two months during Anastasia lasted the whole nine months with Jennifer. It left her in some nasty shape afyer the birth so much so that Max had to tell his boys if they planned to add any more to the little pack, Chrysta was gonna have to become a vampire.

It didn't take much convincing, Chrysta felt ready for it at that point, wanting to take that final step and spend an eternity with her mates and especially her kids.

So after becoming a creature of the night, Chrysta had normal and easy pregnancies+ births for Tiff, Kat and Chris! Still got the last two months sickies tho...

The cravings overall just extended to meat or anything with blood- even as a human if she pricked her finger with a needle or got a papercut she found herself sucking on her finger draining the cut a little too long for comfort. And if the boys decided their little Mama needed to be spoiled, she'd always request stake as rare cooked as it could get-like, this girl would beg for it, clapsed hands, puppy-dog-eyes and everything.

And who she clinged to the most during the nine months was probably whoever the dad was. Given a birthing bond was between them, whichever one of the boys baby Chrysta was having was gonna be watched over by the biological papa.

During the day (or a few of the nights when Chrysta was getting used to it still) the one singular boy would break off from sleeping in the rafters with the rest if the family and stay on level ground to watch over and protect Chrysta given the vulnerable state she's in- and she can't exactly sleep upside down in her condition.

... But it wasn't rare her go-to's for when she just felt clingy was probably Dwayne or David. Not that Paul or Marko weren't treating her less or anything! But sometimes she just needed to hug an arm or lean against a back to ease her sore one without any questions asked. 💜💜💜💜

EDIT: OML AND FIR THE LULLABY QUESTION:

She hummed or sang to the tune 'Still Loving You' by the Scoprions 🥺🥺🥺

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brokenjere · 2 years

Text

seventeen going under (j.f) (part 10)

seventeen going under (j.f)

synopsis: it won’t stop raining and Jeremiah takes a nap in YN’s bed

just doing what I can to keep it so lighthearted but I can’t help that my mind keeps track of everywhere your hands have been to - emily james that was then

catch up here

It did rain that night. Jeremiah and I sat on the roof, not saying a word, and then we felt the first raindrop. He was right. When was he not? I made it home before it really started to rain. It wasn't a light drizzle or a simple summer shower. It was a downpour. A vicious, chaotic, earth-shattering downpour. For three days. Storms in Cousins were rare, especially in the summer but they happened. Usually, Jeremiah and I would go for swims in the rain as long as it wasn’t lightning outside and we stayed inside and watched movies until it all stopped, taking breaks to sit in the all-seasons room and watch the rain hit the glass roof.

Rain swims were our favorite, usually. We liked swimming at night, of course, but when it rained: that was when it was the best. The water was always warm from the humidity and you were completely surrounded by water. It felt like a warm hug. I didn't swim in the rain this time, though.

My mom dragged me out of bed the next morning, tugging on my leg as I pulled the comforter up to my chin further. “I don’t wanna,” I cried and kicked her hand off my ankle.

She laughed and sat down next to me and tried to rip the blanket off of me again. “Get up, it’s almost 11 and it’s still pouring out. I’m bored,” she whined. Sometimes, she was still like a little girl.

“Where’s Susannah and Laurel?” I felt the sleep in my throat.

“They’re doing their own thing. It’s raining too hard to walk over there.”

“You don’t have an umbrella?” I opened one eye and peaked at her. She waved me off and laid back on my bed with a sigh, her back crushing my legs. I wigged my legs underneath her and she laughed, sitting back up.

“What if I just wanna hang out with my girl?” She tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and I melted because she was my mom. I gave in and got out of bed and we binge-watched trashy reality tv all day and drank too much coffee to stay away to see what was going to happen next.

We fell asleep on the couch, the rain pounding on our steel roof. The trees swayed outside, hitting the windows and you could hear how hard the rain was hitting the pool. When I woke up really late at night, I stood by the patio door and watched the droplets ripple in the water. Every action had a reaction, even the rain.

All day, I was dodging texts and phone calls. Jeremiah, the first night, called twice. He texted: did you make it home okay???

Conrad texted the next day: Jere said you didn't reply. you okk?

Belly even called me a couple of times, leaving voicemails wondering if I was okay and if I wanted to hang out.

Mom wasn't far off saying it was raining too hard to walk over. Sure, next door wasn't that far away but between the rain and the wind and the dark, looming clouds, it was depressing to step foot outside. No one wanted to do it, not my mother, not Susannah and Laurel, and certainly not myself or the boys. Which is why I ignored every single text. I was in my own personal bubble, with no chance of intrusion.

The next morning, my mom let me sleep in again and we ate ice cream for a late breakfast/early lunch and I read a book in the all-seasons room while I listened to the rain, and then, when I felt like I was too cooped up, I went for a run in the rain.

I was not a runner. I did not run. Never have and frankly thought I never would. But my chest felt like it was going to explode at any given second and I felt like all my bones were expanding inside of my body and I wanted to scream every time I opened my mouth and I was drowning. I was drowning and I couldn’t swim to the top. I couldn't find the light at the end of the tunnel. I couldn't find the silver lining when it wasn’t in Jeremiah’s eyes. So I ran. I ran and ran until my chest felt too tight to run anymore.

The sun was out today, beaming down on me like a spotlight. The only sign of life in the streets of Cousins beach. The wind died down and it was no longer thundering but the rain was still a steady downpour.

It was a sweet relief from the burning in my muscles. I left my hair down and it stuck to my face. My feet splashed in puddles on the sidewalk, soaking my shoes and socks so much they squished under the pressure of my body. When I could no longer breathe and the water was too much, I leaned over with my hands on my knees and retched into the grass. When I stood back up, the ice cream and bile that swam in my stomach were now in the grass. Vivian, Jeremiah, and Conad swam in the grass with it.

“What the hell happened to you?” My mom asked when I got home. I was soaking wet, dragging water throughout the house but I didn’t care.

“I’ll mop when I get changed,” I told her. She waved me off, throwing a towel on the hardwood floor, and scooted on it behind me until I reached the stairs. She grabbed my wrist and stopped me. Water pooled under my feet.

“Are you okay?” I shook my head. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything.”

It was still pouring out the next morning. It was starting to get old. The tide would start to be too high on the beach and I bet it smelled like dead fish down there and would for days. I was downstairs getting a cup of coffee when there was a knock on the door. I opened it to a very wet, very sad-looking Jeremiah.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. That was the wrong thing to say. I knew it the second I said it and I cringed at myself. “You’re wet.” He was drenched. His hair was a mop on his head, plastered to his face that was both pale, ghost-white and bright red and rosy cheeks.

“I know it’s raining,” he quipped. “Can I come in?” He gestured to the inside and I stepped aside, letting him come in. This time, I was the one chasing after him with the towel.

“You got this wet just by walking next door?” I asked. He used the already wet towel from drying the floor to try and dry his hair. He ended up just shaking it out like a wet dog.

“I sat outside your house for a while debating if I should knock,” he admitted.

“You did,” I stated. He nodded and threw the towel by the shoes in the foyer. We were still awkwardly standing in the entrance, not sure what to say or do. I figured I should offer him more dry towels and maybe his change of clothes I wore home the other night but I couldn’t move. I hadn’t seen or talked to him since Belly’s party. It was like a stranger was in my home.

“I did.”

“Want to go upstairs and change?” He nodded and followed me upstairs. I collected his clothes and tossed them on the bed and retrieved some towels from the bathroom. “I’ll leave you to it,” I said and turned to leave the room. Jeremiah grabbed my wrist to stop me and I tensed. I felt every muscle in my body tense and seize like it was entering fight or flight mode and I wanted to do both at the same time.

“Yn..”

“Yeah?” I said barely above a whisper. I didn’t turn around to look at him. I didn’t want to see him look at me the way he has been lately.

“Is there something going on between you and Conrad?” His words stabbed me a million little times right in the back. “He’s been acting so weird this summer and so have you. I don’t know, maybe it’s because of what’s going on with our parents or the whole football thing but,” he sighed, “I just need my people back.”

I just need my people back. That broke me. I turned around and Jeremiah was more broken than I was. He had started to cry and I didn’t even notice. I pull him toward me and our bodies slam together gith in the middle. I wrap my arms around his shoulders so tight it almost hurt. He engulfed me in his arms, almost lifting me off the ground from trying to hold me as close to his body as possible. He was right. He had lost his people. Somehow, someway, both Conrad and I had let the issues sizzle between us until it turned into a full fledge kitchen fire that distanced us from the best part of us. Jeremiah.

I held him as he sobbed into my neck and I didn’t even care that now I would have to change clothes. “I’m right here,” I said to him. He nodded and I kissed his neck where my lips could reach and when we pulled away briefly, I tugged on his wet shirt, asking him to take it off. He was freezing. He did as I asked and I grabbed his hand, walking him to the bed. I sat down and he crawled into my lap. He cried while I played with his hair and he held my waist so tight to his body I was afraid he would never let go and then, I felt stupid.

Stupid for letting Conrad get in the way of this. This relationship. This friendship. This everythingship.

I think he ended up falling asleep because his breath became shallow and ragged. His chest moved up and down in a perfect pattern. I settled into the pillow underneath me and the skin on his chest and arms kept me warm enough that I fell asleep, too.

When I woke up, Jeremiah and I were tangled together like old necklaces in the drawer. Our legs were twisted around each others and his arms were still wrapped around my waist and mine were flopped over his back. He was snoring softly, like a little kitten. I tickled my fingers up his back and he stirred in his sleep until eventually, he lifted his head up enough to look at me. “Hey,” he said, grogily. He smiled softly at me, the muscles in his face not yet warmed up enough to fully smile.

“Hey sleepy head,” I teased.

“You fell asleep, too. I can see it in your messy hair.” Jeremiah rolled off of me and onto his back, stretching out his limbs. His muscles flexed in his arms and chest and I wanted to reach out and touch them. Feel their warmth on my skin one more time.

I rolled out of bed instead, flattening out on clothes. I sniffed my t-shirt, smelling rain water and salt from Jeremiah’s tears. “We should change,” I told him. I peered over my shoulder at him. He was now on his side, propping his head up on his elbow. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” He fluttered his eye lashes innocently.

I shook my head and dug out some clothes out of my dresser and stuffed them under my arm. “I’ll be back.” In the bathroom, I ran a hot shower and surrounded myself in the water and pretended like it was Jeremiah again. When I returned back to my room, he was changed into the same clothes I was the other night and sitting on my bed, ruffling out his now dry hair with his hands. “Do you wanna hang out? Watch a movie?”

Jeremiah stood up and walked over to me, taking my hands in his. “I should get going. It’s almost dinner time and you know Mom.” Oh. I nodded and looked down at my feet. He squeezed my hand three times.

“We have some space at our table?” I offered. He turned me down again. “Why not, Jere? Are you mad at me?” My voice broke and I felt dumb. Like I was begging him for something. Maybe he finally had enough and I pushed him to the breaking point and he came over here earlier to tell me he was done, leave him alone, never speak to him again but then we got all tangled up in sheets and feelings and sleep.

“I just want to give you the space you asked for, yn,” he said and then glanced back at the bed and he laughed. “Not like that really worked out very well.”

“Jere-”

“Just think about us, okay? You know where I stand and that’s not gonna change, alright?” He bent down and tucked a piece of wet hair behind my ear and then he kissed my cheek. “I’ll call you later, alright? We’ll go get ice cream if the rain settles down.” I nodded and Jeremiah slipped around me and out of the room before I had a chance to say anything.

Downstairs, I sat at our dinner table with my dad at the head and my mom at the rear and I sat smack dab in the middle. I silently chewed my pasta bake while Dad went on a huge tangent about this lady at the store in town. Something about peaches, I wasn’t really paying much attention. Mom laughed, as she always did, at his sometimes insufferable jokes but she reached over and squeezed my hand.

“I think the rain is going stop tomorrow,” she said after my dad was finished.

“That’s what they say,” my dad said, lifting his drink in the air. He clinked it against my mom’s as they said cheers. “It’s been a long few days.”

“Yn went on a run yesterday, actually.”

“Mom,” I whined. She laughed and held her hands up in defense.

“What? You never do that. It was weird.” Dad laughed too and I hid my face in my face, sinking further into my chair. “Oh, we’re just teasing!”

Dad reached over and patted my leg, giving it a reassuring squeeze and I peeked in between my eyes at him. He had a smile on his face, one that always made me feel like home no matter where I was and in that moment, I was eternally grateful for my people.

“Are you feeling better, honey?” Mom asked. She never really pushed and prodded, especially when I was upset or mad. She always let me tell her on my own time, and eventually, I always would. I gave her a slight shrug. “Do you want to tlak about it? With us?”

I looked over at my dad, who gave me a nod and I shrugged again. “There’s just a lot of things that added up. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Well, what happened first?” Dad asked.

I looked down at my lap and picked at the skin around my fingernail. If I was going to tell them, if I was really going to say it out loud for the very first time, I needed to at least control my heart rate. Right now, it was beating out of my freaking chest. I bet the entire Cape Cod could hear it.

What happened first? If I could pick apart that night and dissect it into little tiny pieces, pulling out what was important and flushing away what was not, I would. But it all jumbled together. Conrad’s words, the tears, the anger, the confessions. It was all a blur of arms, legs, lips, sadness. Where the fuck did I begin?

I looked up at Mom and asked, “did you know Susannah was sick again?”

taglist: @things-that-make-sa-happy@marajillana@calpurnia2002 @revemixer@harrysswhore

#jeremiah fisher #jeremiah fisher fan fic #tsitp #conrad fisher #the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher x reader #tsitp imagine #jeremiah fisher imagine #jeremiah fisher x reader #conrad fisher imagine #reader insert #belly conklin #jenny han

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hannahssimblr · 2 months

Text

Chapter Twenty-Five

Jude flies home to a city that’s bursting with the first blooms of summer. I wake up to a Dublin that feels more colourful to the one I fell asleep in, because he’s home, and the mere fact of that makes every aspect of my life feel sunnier. It takes him hours to get through arrivals at the airport and drop all of his things off at his parents house, so by the time I spot him turning the corner by the railings of Fitzwilliam Square I have gone beyond the point of excitement and entered a state of genuine agony.

I throw open the door to him before he has a chance to knock. “Hello Evie,” He says, and he looks every bit as tanned and sleek and sexy as he did when we said goodbye at Paphos airport. None of the time in between then and now feels meaningful anymore.

“Good flight?” I say, and he’s kissing me deeply and kicking the door shut behind him, and I realise as he puts his hands on me and backs me towards the stairs that kissing is never going to be enough for either of us ever again.

“I missed you,” He murmurs on the landing, and he’s already taking his t-shirt off.

“Yeah, same,” I say, and almost stumble over yesterday’s discarded doc Martens boots inside the door of my bedroom.

“That’s good then, we’ve catching up to do.” He lifts me off the floor and tosses me onto the bed where he comes down on top of me so he can kiss my throat and slide his hands up my skirt. We don’t bother getting undressed all the way, there isn’t time, and anyway, as he told me before, he’s kind of into the idea of being half dressed.

“I think I’m impatient by nature,” He said one late night on the phone, “and sometimes I just don’t want to wait additional seconds to take things off, Like, why waste any time with buttons and things, I don’t want to undo every one of those. And doesn’t being in a rush make it hotter anyway?”

“You like it when someone is oh-so-desperate for you that they lose their mind and they can’t possibly wait, okay, I hear you,” I said, and I meant it in a teasing, eye-rolling kind of way, but now as he yanks my underwear out of the way and battles the elastic waistband of his tracksuit pants and I’m feeling suitably desperate I think I understand what he meant.

“God, I thought I’d never get home to you,” He says, and he sounds relieved. I like that he does, and I like that he referred to me as something that’s part of his home like his life is in someway incomplete without me in it.

“It wasn’t easy when you were gone,” I whisper.

“Yeah, it was the worst. I don’t want to do that anymore, I couldn’t really stand it. I just wanted to be here.”

“Don’t leave me anymore.”

“I won’t, I won’t… Let’s not even leave this room.”

And we don’t. For a whole day and night we stay in, and we make good on all of the promises we made to each other in our texts and phone calls. I love how present he is with me, how much he speaks to me, looks at me, checks on me like he cares every bit as much about what I like and how I like it as he does about himself. And when I mess something up he always says it’s okay, and when things go wrong we laugh and try it again.

“Does that feel good?” He’ll say. “Let me help you. Here. That’s it. Did I hurt you? You want it a bit rougher? Like this. Do you prefer when I’m on top?”

And as he’s learning all of these things about me, concentrating on whether I like a hand over my throat, how hard he can go before it hurts, I think, in the moments when I can think, about how entirely different this is from what I was doing before, how what I called sex then couldn’t possibly have been sex, because this and that are too far removed to be defined in the same way or to be reasonably compared. There should be more words for what this is.

“Tired?” He says to me, and it’s five in the morning, maybe. The sun will come up soon.

“No, are you?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to sleep yet.”

“We should then.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” He says, which is bullshit, because he crashes within three minutes. I don’t mind. He’s beautiful when he sleeps, and I can’t help but look at him with the cool haze of twilight across his face. The silence of the early summer light transports me to a teenage morning, somewhere, of dew on my ankles, the roar of the sea in the distance. Nobody in Dublin is awake but me. I kiss both his eyelids and rest my head on his chest. I love him. I should probably tell him that eventually.

I wake up after he does, but he’s still with me. He’s looking at his phone, and when I roll over and nestle my head onto his chest so that I can look too I see that he is composing an email.

“What’s that?” I wonder sleepily.

“It’s a job application, there’s an investment firm in Sandyford looking for a graphic designer.”

“Uh,” I say, because it’s too early to process the meaning of things like investment firms. “Are you qualified for that?”

“I have a degree in fine arts.”

“Isn’t it different from graphic design though?”

He scratches his head, “Yeah but it’s fine, these finance people don’t know the difference. I have some stuff in my portfolio that’s sort of graphic-design-adjacent, and I’m pretty sure it’ll be alright. It’s all the same to them, they just want someone to make ads for them.”

“Hm,” I say, and scan the portion of the cover letter he’s already written, “Are you interested in that sort of thing?”

“No, not especially,” He says, “But I’d like to get a job in Dublin, you know, just for a year or so so that I can stay here while you finish college.”

“That’s considerate of you.”

He laughs, “But?”

“But nothing,” I close my eyes again and nestle back into the cool side of my pillow. He’s running a little bit too hot to be lying on top of anyway. He prods my arm. “That felt like a loaded statement.”

“You’re paranoid.”

“Am I?”

“Yes,” I pause for a moment and then turn over to peer at him through half shut eyes, “But…”

His eyebrows quirk up, “But?”

“But I don’t think you should apply for a job that you’re not going to like just because you think you have to get something.”

“Okay but I don’t really want to sit around in my parents house for a year doing nothing.”

“Why don’t you just look for jobs that you like? Why are you compromising right off the bat?”

He gives me a look which makes me understand I’m missing something. “There’s no work relevant to my interests in Ireland, Evie. I’ll need to just find something to tide me over for a while.”

“Really? There’s no work at all in film props or anything like that?”

“No, Ireland’s not really a great place to do what I want to do.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.”

He strokes the hair at the nape of my neck and goes back to tapping out the email, “That’s okay, it’s just how it is. A job like this one will be fine, and the pay is okay too.”

“Imagine what kind of place that will be to work. Do you think you’ll have to wear a suit and tie?”

“I hope not.”

I’m giggling now because I have new amusing ideas about how it might be to work in an investment firm, “Do you think they’ll all stand around the water coolers and say things like ‘it’s hump day!’ or ‘can’t wait for the weekend!’?”

“Yes, and there won’t be any women working there, and the average age will be 54.”

“And they’ll make you do raffles all the time, and sign birthday cards for people you’ve never even spoken to.”

“Yeah, Alan in HR is turning 49, better contribute a tenner to his gift.”

I roll onto my back laughing because the idea of it all is so absurd. I wonder how on earth anybody can stomach it. An investment firm.

Jude is biting his lip thoughtfully though, perhaps weighing it all up, picturing himself in that place, in a stuffy suit, using the bathroom in a cubicle with a flickering fluorescent light and eating a sad sandwich at his desk, and the look on his face makes it all a bit less hilarious.

“Good money though,” I say, and he nods, quickly hiding his emotions with a grin, “God,” he growls, and pulls me into him to mess up my hair, “The things I’d do to stay here, huh?”

“If you stay here you get me,” I point out, and he pecks the crown of my head, “Yeah, see that’s what’d make it worth it.”

I nestle in under his arm and join him in his examination of his phone. He lets me read the cover letter, which makes a lot of grand claims about his hard working nature and team player attitude, and when he asks for my opinion of it I tell him it’s fine, because what would I know?

“Okay then I’m sending it.”

“Yes! Do it.”

He hesitates, “This is a good idea,” He says, and I can’t tell if it’s a statement or a question.

“Send it.”

“I’m sending it.”

He sends it, and I wonder if I should cheer or something, but I don’t. In fact there’s no ceremony about it whatsoever, he just tosses his phone onto the duvet where it instantly gets swallowed up in the folds, “Now, I don’t want to think about that anymore.”

“No?”

“No thanks, actually I’ve already moved on from it. What job application?”

“Never heard of it. What’s the next thing?”

“A bit of you, preferably, if you’re up for it,” and obviously I am, and I think, as he is putting me on top of him once again that I probably always will be up for it. I hope it will always be like this.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky girl part 3 #tw: sex

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jellybeansmud · 27 days

Text

so i got angry trying to catch an octopus. and now its 4:30 am and i finished a little something about how horrible it must be to be the farmer when your player is crazy stupid and trying to achieve everything immediately like they're a fucking speedrunner or something (<- thats me. i am like that)

putting it under readmore. unedited since im only getting two hours of sleep today even without editing

Solo Stress | Farmer & Elliott

| they/them for the farmer | 1693 words

It is a beautiful morning in the Pelican Town, and the local farmer is yelling at the sea like it just insulted their mother. It is barely seven.

You get used to it always being a bit noisy, living right by the sea, but swearing that was so loud it almost sounded like it was right inside of his cabin overpowered the usual sound of waves and seagulls quite a bit. Enough so that Elliott shot straight up from his bed before even properly waking up, running outside with his heart sinking to his stomach, fully expecting to find someone injured there, or to see fire, or a flood, or something of sorts. He rubbed his eyes, adjusting to bright rays of sun shining right into his face, and looked around the beach.

The area was peaceful enough. Definitely no natural disasters happening. All Elliott could find that was out of the ordinary were a kicked over bucket, a few sardines flopping helplessly on the sand next to it, and the town's newest resident, who stood by the edge of the water, screaming and gesturing around at such speed that the fishing rod in one of their hands hit the water from time to time, sending splashes half their height up in the air. After a minute of consideration, he called out to them before walking closer.

Olli whipped around faster than Elliott has ever seen a person turn in his life, fishing rod drawing a half-circle deep in the sand. Their, honestly, quite terrifying scowl dropped when they saw him, to his relief. The second that they looked at him like that was enough for him to reconsider whether it was a good idea to ask them what happened. He did so anyways.

"Fucking octop- octip- octopi, is what happened!" they hissed, throwing their hand up. Purple metal of their fishing rod shined brightly, catching a ray of sun, before it fell to the ground a good distance away from the shore. The farmer seemed to not even notice they threw it, caught up in their anger. "Motherfuckers get my fucking bait, almost break my arm thrashing on the hook worse than the god damned Legend, and then they rip my line like it's nothing! I've hooked two dozen of them just this summer, and you know how many I pulled out in the end? Fucking none!" The bucket almost joined the rod in the sand, but ended up falling several meters closer to the treeline. Elliott didn't know people could kick something this hard before. "Fucking none! They are just some fucking fish! What the hell am I supposed to do to catch at least one alredy?!"

He was, frankly, stumped here. This must've been the first time anyone in the town has seen Olli this angry, and it was over some bad luck with fishing. Elliott wished someone else was dealing with this right now. Unfortunately, Willy just left for a fishing trip on his newly repaired boat. Oh well.

"I... suppose, uh, out of everyone in town, Willy would be the only one who could give you any advice on that... Would you like to have some tea, perhaps? I would invite you to saloon, if it weren't this early in the morning," he tried. If he couldn't offer any advice, then distracting Olli probably was his best chance to prevent them from doing sonething stupid. Like smashing their fishing rod in half. Or fighting an octopus with a sword. He wouldn't be surprised if they tried that.

The farmer dragged a palm across their face to calm down, taking a deep breath, and just nodded in response. Their shoulders sagged as they followed Elliott to his cabin.

The Moonlight Farm was one of the best ones you could find in the country. Even if it couldn't compete in output with huge corporate farms, it definitely won all awards when it came to the quality of produce. It was almost unbelievable that the smell of starfruit that filled the room came from the dried cubes in the tea Elliott served to his guest and not a fresh fruit, so sweet and intense it was. The writer often wondered how Olli managed to achieve so much in two short years since their arrival to the abandoned, barren farm. Right now wasn't the best time to ask, though.

Olli was cutting a pomegranate with a pocket knife when he turned from his kitchen cabinets to the little table with a pair of cups in his hands. He grabbed a bowl for the seeds after setting down the cups.

"Brought this for you," the farmer said, smiling shallowly without looking away from the fruit when they heard the clink of the bowl placed in front of them.

"You are such a kind friend." Elliott sat on the other side of the table and smiled back. "You were planning to visit me?"

"Just wanted to bring a gift. There are a few more, too."

They pulled a bundle of cloth with several pomegranates inside from their bag that sat on the floor by their stool and placed it on the table. Each fruit looked pristine and absolutely perfect, like no fruit Elliott has ever seen anywhere but Pelican Town. He thanked Olli again, and they offered him the same faint smile.

"You seem really upset still. Are you trying to catch an octopus for something important, or is there something else bothering you?"

They didn't reply for a minute, popping the seeds out of the pomegranate in their hands into the bowl. They looked somewhere past it, however, eyes lost and unblinking.

"Uh... Just... Slept bad tonight and overreacted because of that, I guess... It's fine, don't worry, it's alright, it's- It's alright."

It really did not seem alright. Olli just pretended to focus on cleaning the fruit.

Elliott studied them while they seemed to not even notice his eyes on them. He didn't get a chance to look at them up close often, really. They were always around, and chatted with him (and everyone else in town) every day, but most of the time, they were in one place only for a few minutes before running off. The longest they stayed somewhere besides the farm was when they went fishing. Or to the mines, from what he's heard from Robin, who sometimes saw then enter them early in the morning and leave past sunset.

"Are you getting enough rest, usually?" he asked, realizing now that he has never seen them without these dark circles under their eyes.

"Yea, it was just... Um... Baahrbara had a lamb late into the night, I had to stay with her, you know, to see if they're alright. Just a..." Olli took a deep breath, poorly trying to hide either a sigh or a yawn. "Just one of those things."

It seemed like that one time he saw them arrive to the tide pools well past midnight when he got carried away writing was, perhaps, not just an one-time thing.

"And you were here today since?.."

Their face fell. Weak smile they held gave place to a sad, tired expression, and they slumped into themselves.

"...You know, don't you?" they asked quietly, not looking at him.

Elliott reached across the table to place his hand on their shoulder.

"You do a lot of hard work every day. You know you should take better care of yourself, right? Nobody would want to see you hurt yourself by accident because you were tired."

Olli stayed silent, bringing their legs up to hug them. Their long hair obscured their eyes, but Elliott was almost certain he saw tears behind their bangs.

"It's okay, Olli. You've helped the town so much, and you're still doing a lot of great things for us all. Do something for yourself, too, okay? You don't have to wear yourself out this much."

"People need the farm, y'know?" Their voice was definitely watery now. First time anyone in the town has seen them cry, too, probably. Elliott got up to hug them around the shourders. "I- We don't have the JojaMart anymore, I have to work harder so I can give enough to town, I can't just not do this! And there are public plans that need finances, so I need to sell enough to cover that, too, and- and- Yoba, I j- I just can't, Elliott, I have to work this hard! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He didn't say anything, patting their back while they cried into their knees. It only lasted for a brief minute, and then they forced their tears to stop, curling up tighter and hiding their face more.

Elliott fixed their hair, trying to look them into the eyes, and Olli glanced up for a moment. He smiled warmly at them.

"I'm sure Marnie wouldn't mind helping you with animals, right? And Shane need something to do, since he doesn't have a job right now. I can ask Leah to help with the plants, and most people would be happy to help with the harvests, if they have free time. This can even be a new little festival, don't you think?"

"They already have enough to do without this, it's my farm, I-"

"Clearly you can't do all that you want to do alone, Olli. It wouldn't hurt to ask. Think about it for a while, at least, okay?"

"...Okay. Okay. I- Thank you. I'm... I'm gonna ask Shane. That's... I think he will like my chickens. Okay."

"And take at least today off, please."

They looked up at him, eyes wet and pained, and he cut them off before they could say a word.

"For me?"

"...If it's for you."

"Thank you. I'll help you bring your things to the farm. Go to bed when we get there, you can always talk to people later."

Olli slipped off the stool right into hugging him.

Elliott collected their discarded bucket and fishing rod as they both headed out to the other side of the town. He hoped they will follow his advice. He really wanted to see them happy.

#mud babbles #stardew valley #sdw #stw elliott #i am mentally unwell and love torturing myself. i shouldve just written it after work #but nooo. i needed to do this nowwww. well enjoy sleeping only 2 hours before work you idiot.

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parkitaco · 1 year

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perhaps . 43 🤞

It's getting close to dark when they leave the lake, the sun dipping low in the sky. The summer is drawing to a close, but the evenings are still warm and peaceful, crickets chirping in the bushes as Mike and Will walk hand-in-hand back in the direction of Mike's house.

"So," Mike says, voice teasing as he leans into Will's arm, "Thoughts?"

Will glances at him, a small smirk on his lips as they pick their way across the gravel road that winds around the quarry. His face is streaked in orange light, hair wavy and half-dried against the sides of his face, and Mike knows he’s smiling like an idiot at him and simply can’t bring himself to care. "What, about today?"

"Yeah," Mike says, grinning all teeth, "How did I do?"

Will hums, considering, and his eyes flick back to the road. "A-minus date," he rates, trying and failing to hide a small smile, and Mike squawks indignantly.

"A-minus," he huffs, "Where could the minus possibly come from-"

"Well, we had to walk," Will points out, and kicks at a rock with his toe to prove his point.

"I-!” Mike gapes at him in mock offense, “My car stopped working! That's not my fault-"

"Also, you're definitely sunburned," Will cuts in, raising an eyebrow as he glances over at Mike. "Your arms are all pink."

Mike huffs. Will has a point - now that they've left the lake, he can feel the uncomfortable heat of his sunburn stretching across his shoulders, and the skin across his cheekbones feels too tight whenever he talks. "It's not that bad."

"You're going to be such a baby about it, though," Will complains, as Mike narrowly avoids tripping over a tree branch. "All week. You're going to be all whiny and miserable and I'm going to have to take care of you."

"You like taking care of me," Mike mutters, and Will laughs lightly, a small acknowledgement.

"Yeah, well,” he acknowledges, and his thumb brushes over the back of Mike’s hand like a reflex, “If you'd listened to me and put sunscreen on it wouldn't be a problem."

"Okay," Mike says, feigning irritation as he rolls his eyes and tugs Will closer into his side, "Other than that, though, it was- good?"

Will smiles, soft and genuine in the dying sunlight. "Yeah, Mike. 'Course."

Mike beams, and he's about to say something else, something along the lines of can we do this again, then, like, maybe forever and ever, because technically speaking this is only the fourth date they've been on but Mike is pretty sure he could keep going on dates with Will Byers for the rest of his life, but he doesn’t get a chance to say any of that before -

Smack.

His shoe catches on a root, and Mike goes tumbling to the ground, landing hard on the rocky edge of the road as his hand slips out of Will's. He yelps, landing in the dirt, and Will is instantly beside him, gripping his shoulders.

"Are you okay?" Will says, eyes wide with concern, and Mike blinks at him, entranced by the sun-warmed freckles on his face, before he remembers to respond and bobs his head quickly.

"Yeah, yeah," he says quickly, shrugging Will's hands off and clambering to his feet. His flip-flop is busted, the strap broken off of the shoe, and Will notices it at the same time Mike does, brow furrowing.

"I told you not to wear flip-flops," he says, stern, and Mike grins sheepishly under his gaze. "You can't walk barefoot."

"Sure I can," Mike says brightly, plucking his broken shoe off of the ground and holding out his free hand for Will. "We're almost there, anyway."

He takes a step and immediately winces as a pebble pokes into the arch of his foot, and Will shoots him a disbelieving look as Mike winds his fingers through Will's. "You're an idiot," Will replies, and then- "I- here, come here."

Mike obliges, narrowing his eyes in confusion as Will draws him closer. "What?" he asks and Will blinks up at him.

Will sighs. "Just- here, you can’t walk like that, I’ll carry you.”

Mike blinks. “You’ll carry me?”

“Yeah,” Will says, blinking seriously at him, “On my back. So you don’t hurt your foot.”

“Wh- my foot is fine,” Mike says, even as a twig pokes into the side of his foot, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Will assures him, “And we’re almost to your house anyway.”

This is true - Mike can see the roof of his house from here, and the dirt is pretty uncomfortable on his bare foot, so he bites his lip and holds out his arms, and Will shoots him a grin as he crouches to help Mike climb onto his back.

Will is warm, his t-shirt tight around his shoulders as Mike drapes his arms around his neck and presses his face into Will’s neck. He smells like summer, and Mike can’t help but cling to him as Will’s arms wrap around his legs. Will stands, wobbling a little as Mike makes a small noise of alarm and wriggles closer to him.

“Okay?” Will asks, smiling and tilting his face to look at Mike, where he’s clinging to him like- a koala bear, or something. Mike nods meekly, tightening his hold around Will’s chest, and he can feel the reverberation of Will’s soft laugh as he starts trudging in the direction of the house.

“You’re a dork,” Will proclaims, as Mike tucks his face away against the junction of his shoulder and his neck.

“I’m your dork,” Mike mumbles, lips brushing Will’s skin, and Will shivers before tightening his hold on Mike’s legs and hoisting him higher.

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, and Mike smiles to himself as he presses a kiss to Will’s neck, then another, before- “Mike, you can’t do that or I’m going to drop you.”

Mike grins, squirming a little higher and peering as far over Will’s shoulder as he can without toppling them both over. “Are you saying I make you weak, Byers?”

“I’m saying,” Will huffs, sounding a bit out of breath, but they’re on Mike’s street now, only a few blocks to go, “that you’re a distraction.”

“Same difference,” Mike says happily, and presses another kiss to Will’s shoulder to prove his point.

“Dork,” Will mutters, but it sounds like he’s smiling.

They arrive on the Wheeler’s back lawn, and Will takes the opportunity to immediately release his hold on Mike, sending him tumbling into the soft grass. Mike squawks indignantly, scrambling back to his feet, and Will grins sheepishly at him, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “Sorry.”

“You could have given me some warning,” Mike points out, but he’s smiling, wrapping his arms around Will’s waist and kissing his cheek.

“Sorry,” Will says again, not really sounding like he means it, but that’s okay, Mike doesn’t need him to - “You’re not all that light.”

“I know,” Mike says, as Will wraps an arm around his waist and guides him in the direction of the basement door, the grass cool against Mike’s bare feet, “That’s why I tried to warn you.”

Will shoots him a look, like he’s missing something obvious, and tightens his hold on Mike’s waist as Mike reaches out to open the door. “I wasn’t going to let you walk barefoot,” Will says, like it’s an entirely ridiculous concept to begin with, and follows suit as Mike flops down onto the couch, holding out his arms for Will. “You would have hurt yourself.”

“I might not have,” Mike defends, but there’s no bite to it. He finds it hard to be annoyed or defensive when Will Byers is this close to him, legs thrown over his lap and grinning at him.

“You definitely would have,” Will says evenly, and Mike shifts around to tackle him, pinning him to the sofa and raising an eyebrow as he hovers over him. “You would have stepped on something and cut yourself and it would have been super hard to watch.”

“So mean to me,” Mike grumbles, and Will grins at him all teeth. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go out with me again on Friday, but maybe not now-”

“No!” Will yelps, laughing, and Mike loses all of his fake nonchalance as he collapses onto Will’s chest, grinning. “No, I’m sorry, we can do that, and I’ll carry you the whole way even if you wear your dumb flip-flops and-”

“Okay,” Mike cuts in, grinning and wrapping his arms around Will’s neck, shifting up just enough to kiss his cheek. “Got it. Lots of dates from now on.”

“Yeah,” Will agrees softly, threading his fingers through Mike’s hair, and his smile is brighter, even, than the fiery sunset outside, more beautiful and more precious to Mike by a long shot. “Sounds like a plan.”

#ty moon i hope u enjoy <33 #43 - giving them a piggy-back ride #byler ficlet #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #they're such idiots fr

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writing-good-vibes · 2 years

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How about 22 and 28 for Otis? Thanks a bunch!!! 🥰

lottie, my love 💗 !! ahh your first request from me and my first request for otis (my problematic fave, i will always admit) !! a lot of first it seems. i realised after finishing this that i totally forgot about the polaroids prompt 👀 i have no idea how but i was very pleased with myself up until that realisation. i have another drabble coming to make up for it !! but anyway, here we go, thanks so much for dropping by with a prompt !! 💗 WARNING for mild, mild smut, otis saying mama (because it's hot and also canon mwuhaha), other fem/gendered language and alcohol consumption.

[☀ requests for summer prompts are still open, and will be all month ☀]

otis driftwood (wanderlust)

When you woke up that morning from another sweaty summer night, you didn't expect your day would end out in the scrublands.

It had been a long and hazy Texas afternoon. The sun bearing down on the Firefly house and you and Baby had set up camp for the afternoon, lay on towels in the backyard with a beer cooler between you and a stack of magazines Baby had 'lifted on her last run into town with RJ.

You could feel the heat settling into your skin, the sweat building at your temples and trickling down your back. For a while you and Baby had chattered but now, as the alcohol started to work its way through you, you fell into a comfortable silence.

You were unsure how long it took you to notice, but you soon released that the sun was far less harsh on your face, and a shadow was dimming the light through your eyelids.

Cracking an eye, you checked to see if a cloud had come over. Instead you see Otis, leaning over you, his white-blonde hair curtaining his sharp face. His eyes are shadowed by the straw stetson on his head.

"Otis," you greet him. Reaching up, your fingertips brush the ends of his hair.

He stands up straight again, "Hey, mama."

"Beer?" you ask, reaching for the cooler.

"No beer for him," Baby pipes up, leaning up on her elbows from where she is lay, face down, on the other side of the ice-box.

"And why the fuck not?" Otis jabs, taking a beer for himself anyway. "I bought this damn beer."

Baby seems to concede, but whines, "Fuck you," anyway.

"Fuck you," he chides back.

You sit up properly on your towel, watching as Otis cracks his beer open and meanders down to the bottom the yard. Gazing upon his kingdom, you think.

He has a long sleeved shirt and jeans on. No skin showing besides his bare feet that are caked in the Texas dust.

After a few minutes he wandered back towards the house, back to you.

"Come w' me," he grunts, his hat falling lower over his eyes.

"Where to?"

"Never you mind, woman," he snaps, "Get your ass movin'."

He stalks back to the house, the battered screen door slamming closed behind him.

You roll your eyes, smirking at Baby.

"Don't take no notice of him," Baby shrugs. She sits up and unties the string of her bikini, throwing it aside and then lying back down. "He's in one of his stupid, fuckin' moods."

Baby was right. She usually was about Otis.

***

As you drive along with Otis in his clapped-out pick up truck, you relax into your seat. The wind whips through your hair from the open windows and you squint against the sun that is sinking low on the horizon. It's late.

At first, when you followed Otis into the house and back out again to the truck, you thought he'd got a sudden urge to hunt. It wasn't particularly unusual, though usually he sent Baby out to catch the rabbits. He tended to keep you at home; keeping the house clean and the bed warm, you supposed.

But this was different. Not his usual blood-driven mania at all. He seemed almost subdued as he pulled away from the farm house, dirt kicking up in your wake.

About 20 miles out of Ruggsville you take your chances and ask, "What are we doing out here?"

For a moment he doesn't reply. Then, "Baby was gettin' on my fuckin' nerves."

You hum in response. Noncommittal. He wouldn't drive out all this way if Baby was just annoying him. He'd probably just call her a stupid bitch and then go off to play with whatever poor, unfortunate soul he had to hand.

You let it go, though, as you had found out long ago that it was for the best.

Another twenty miles and you're close to the boarder. Otis hasn't looked at you since you asked what you were doing out here and he still doesn't. Instead, he pulls off to the side of the dirt road and parks up.

The stars are clear as day, out in the empty scrub.

"Get out."

You do as he says, as you always seemed to do when he was like this (and in the back of your mind you think about how fucking stupid you are for it). You follow him around the side of the truck.

The truck bed is uncomfortable. Something, you can't tell what, is digging into the small of your back. You're rather preoccupied anyway.

Rough hands, calloused not with hard work but with countless sins, trace just as roughly up your thighs. Lithe fingers tugging your shorts down and pushing your leg up.

His hair needs washing (so does yours) but you run a hand through it anyway, gripping tight when he pushes inside and doesn't stop. He lets you, just like you let him.

***

"You drove me all the way out here just to screw me?" you ask after a while. Otis is sat on the edge of the truck bed. You can see each dip of his spine and the sharpness of his shoulder blades. He's leaning forward, elbows on his knees, cigarette dangling between his fingers. The red cherry glow illuminates his face when he brings it up to take a drag.

As the smoke coils with his breath, he replies, "Didn't hear you fuckin' complain' when I was "just" screwin' you."

Instead of answering, you keep your mouth shut. Baby was right, he is in one of his stupid fuckin' moods.

You wait a while longer and, just as you're about to try again, Otis beats you to it. "Soon, we'll have to get outta here."

For a second you think he means the scrub, means you'll have to drive back home to the Firefly House, not that anyone will mind too much that they've missed dinner. But then you see it. Otis lies back on the cold truck bed and watches the stars above.

He means out of Ruggsville. Otis had been running for as long as he could remember. From one place to another, never settling and never keeping hold of anything. Of anyone.

But now he'd been in one place for too long, he thinks. He's always travelled with the wind but for too long he's been stuck. Stagnant. He doesn't think he should stay still much longer. That's how you get caught.

"We don't have to, y'know," you say, twisting around to lie beside him. Your view of the stars is flipped. "You don't have to keep running. Not yet, anyway."

He grunts, a low sound that suggests nothing besides the fact that he isn't listening to you.

#otis driftwood #otis driftwood x reader #firefly trilogy #house of 1000 corpses #baby firefly #yeah she can get a tag #she fulfils the important plot role of telling otis to go fuck himself #ive never written otis x reader before so very exciting all around #lottie i hope you enjy !!#and thank you for requesting im excited i got to write a few things for the slasher fam this season !!#totally forgot about polaroids idk how but another drabble will follow #a little bonus bit for you lottie 💗

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