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mrsharrington83 · 2 months

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Code Blue

Summary; The aftermath leaves Y/N second guessing everything in her life. Losing friends and witnessing her boyfriend of two years getting closer to his ex is enough to push her over the edge. Will they be able to pull themselves out of this hole that’s darker than the Upside Down itself? (For the sake of this fic, what happened at the end of the last episode of season 4 hasn’t yet happened)

Warnings; usual Stranger Things, things. Swearing, blood, injury, alcohol consumption, mentions of death and suicidal thoughts. If any of this is triggering, please don’t read.

A/N; I haven’t written anything in so long! It’s a long fic! 6.5K words, my longest on here yet. I apologise if this is bad, I’ve just been in a writing mood so thought I’d let out a lot of angst and fluff (we love it) I am a British writer (England) so sorry if things don’t make sense to you! Thank you for stopping by, hopefully my writing streak stays strong. Requests are always open. Love to all xoxo

The aftermath of the supposed earthquake had everyone second guessing. Some people left, other people were packing to leave. Having known what really went down, you sat in silence staring into your vanity mirror as everyone else you knew went to help the community at Hawkins High.

You just couldn’t stomach it. Cuts and grazes over your skin, tiredness evident in your eyes, your hair still clumped with dirt from the Upside Down, dried blood. You hadn’t even showered yet. You didn’t know how to process anything that had happened over the past 72 hours. You were accustomed to this kind of thing having it been a big part of your life for the past few years, the most recent battle however, took the biscuit.

Small Polaroid pictures littered around the back wall of your desk. Smiles, memories, better times. Max and Dustin when she stole his cap. They were in mid laugh so it was blurred a bit, but a happy memory that was stuck in time. That same Max was now in hospital, fractured bones, blind, unresponsive. Not laughing and joking with her friends, not happy, not anything. Doctors didn’t know if she’d ever wake. She was such a selfless soul, way beyond her years, but still so young. Too young. You all were.

Pictures of the group, you and your boyfriend Steve. A picture of you and Eddie during a D&D game. His hair all over the place, tongue sticking out, you laughing, Dustin in the background pulling a stupid face.

Memories.

Eddie.

Your best friend.

Gone.

Just like that.

He didn’t run this time, and fuck. You really wished he did.

The tick of your small clock dragged you away from the pictures, the light ticking mocking you, “shut up! Shut the fuck up!” you screamed from deep in your lungs, a howl so painful from your chest, putting what was left of your strength and upset from the past few weeks into knocking the blasted thing to the floor, hearing the glass and mechanics hit the floor in one swoop. It was a gift from Eddie one Christmas as you were pretty much always late. Bittersweet.

Guilt built in your stomach as you stood up fast, pushing your stool back with your legs, failing to the floor, cupping the bits of broken glass as sobs wracked your body, not realising your hands were clenched around the shards, the all too familiar claret running through the lines in your palm and down your fingers, dripping into a pool on the wooden flooring of the bedroom.

Your breathing hitched as you remembered Eddie die in your arms, the way blood trickled from his mouth. The look of pure terror on his face. He knew he was dying, but he kept it together till the very end for the sake of you and Dustin. His best friends, the people that were there for him no matter what everyone else was saying. You didn’t want to believe it. Dustin’s screams and sobs as the light left his eyes. You saw them gloss over. The way you both shook him, screamed into his ear, telling him not to leave you both behind. Your hands covered in blood. His blood.

Dropping the bits of glass on the floor, you pushed your feet and newly cut hands against the floor, the small slitters of glass that were still on your palm slicing deeper into your flesh until your back met the wall, your hands and body shaking, the tightness in your chest getting worse and you struggled to fill your lungs with air. You felt like you were about to pass out.

The past 72 hours had been, by far, the worst time of your life. You’d witnessed what you thought was your boyfriend of two years get closer to his ex, eyes can be deceiving, but there was something in his own eyes that glimmered whenever he spoke to Nancy, deep down you always wondered what Steve saw in you. Maybe you were just a knock off version of Nancy. Someone to keep him grounded in all of this. A warm body to forget all the wrongdoing in the world. Someone he knew cared about him. Perhaps more than he cared for you. You didn’t know that of course, it was just what your mind was telling you.

Your best friend had died for a town that hated him, Max, the girl who had adopted you as a cooler older sister after Billie died was lying in a hospital bed with the looming same fate, Vecna was still out there somewhere and you were sure there was even more danger on the horizon.

Even after everything that happened, your mum hadn’t bothered coming home. She was always away with her new man for weeks on end. She had called up one night before the phone lines cut out to make sure the house was still standing after witnessing the news, but other than that all you got was, ‘with everything that’s happened in Hawkins, I’m going to stay with carl for another few weeks, maybe more. Be careful out there.’”

You’d never felt more alone. You didn’t blame your friends or Steve. They wanted to help out, of course they did. You did too, but you were in no way the right frame of mind to be seeing people crying for their loved ones, talking to people that had lost others whilst you were reeling from losing your own.

You pulled yourself off the floor with great difficulty. It felt like you had a ton of bricks weighed down on you. Metaphorically speaking, you did. Though it wasn’t bricks, it was the weight of hurt and anger, of death piling up one by one. “Get yourself together Y/N. get your fucking self together.” Rummaging through your dresser, careful not to get blood on everything, you pulled out some comfortable lounge clothes that were bigger in size, purposely avoiding one of Steve’s t-shirts as you dragged yourself to the bathroom.

Putting down the toilet seat, you placed your clothes and rinsed your hands under the cold tap. Water on open cuts made you wince, but at least you felt something other than emotional pain. Watching your fresh blood mix with water and into the sink like a mini whirlpool was almost mesmerising. Picking out the last few shards of glass making the water redder with each bit. You were lucky water was still running. There were some parts of Hawkins that had no water.

Turning the dial on the shower you undressed. Peeling your clothes from your skin. Clothes you wouldn’t bother to wash. They would go straight in the bin. You had enough awful reminders on that night, you didn’t need more. Stepping into the shower, careful not to slip, you submerged yourself in warm, running water and closed your eyes, feeling old blood, mud and debris leave your tired body.

Steve had come home early, with both of your parents almost always being away you basically lived with each other. When your mum was away, he’d stay with you and if his parents were away, you’d stay with him. He had his own keys to your place, and you had your own to his.

Steve kicked his shoes off in the hallway, tiredness in his bones. The house was silent apart from the sound of water from the shower, you were at least out of bed. When Steve left this morning you were curled up in a ball with covers over your head, blocking out the world. He leant down and burrowed his head in your blankets kissing the top of your head, saying how much he loved you and that he’d be back as soon as he’d helped out in Hawkins High, with a running car it was easier for him to pick up robin and bundle Dustin, Will and Mike in the back of along with all the supplies, it was a squeeze, but not a long drive and with everything that had happened, the kids didn’t mind being on top of each other, breathing, alive. In truth, Steve didn’t want to get out of bed either. His temples ached, his bones felt heavy and the wounds he had were still throbbing, not letting him forget about the events.

He sighed and flopped onto the sofa, leaning his head back hoping to get the knots out of the muscles in his neck, tension. He didn’t want to disturb you in the shower, even though all he wanted to do was bury his face in your hair, your skin, breathe in the only place he felt safe, the only thing that made sense to him. Seeing everyone at Hawkins High, the missing persons post filled with faces he knew, faces he didn’t, the heartbreak of all of Hawkins. All he wanted was you, but instead he just sat there.

You pressed your head against the cool tiles in the bathroom as you turned off the shower, the familiar car engine shutting off in the drive, you knew Steve was back, yet you didn’t think you could see him face to face yet. You breathed out heavily and stepped out of the shower pulling a towel from the back of the door, wrapping it around yourself and another for your hair. Red staining the white cotton as you’d opened old wounds as well as your still bleeding palms that stung. You bent down to get the first aid kit from under the sink as you got to work on your wounds. You at least looked cleaner, your split lip and eyebrow not looking as bad now you’d washed, half of these injuries you didn’t even know when you’d got them, from fighting demobats to being thrown across the floor by Eddie when you tried to help, bruises from being pulled away from your friend as his lifeless body lay motionless, wounds from yourself from hitting the wall in desperation. You looked how you felt. Completely broken. You wrapped bandages around your hands and left it at that. Drying off and throwing oversized clothes on, you reached for the door handle, your hand visibly shaking.

Going back into your room you sighed at the mess. Somewhat thankful that Steve had stayed downstairs. Glass and blood everywhere. You grabbed a dustpan and a brush from a small closet next to the bathroom as well as the small towel you used for your hair, sweeping up the small shards of glass and discarding them in a small bin next to your bed. Wiping the claret up with the small towel and putting that in the bin too. You sat on the end of your bed once again staring at the pictures behind your vanity desk.

“Y/N?” Steve called up the stairs noting that the shower had been turned off for a while, worry lacing his voice. You could hear it.

“Yeah, I’m coming down.” You stood up and dragged yourself to the top of the landing. You could just throw yourself down the stairs and hope for the best. Hope you’d have an ounce of peace from your racing mind, but you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t bring yourself to take yourself over that edge, to make the people that cared about you lose another. You’d all lost too much. Begrudgingly you walked down the stairs, the illuminating light from the sun almost blinding you, you’d been living in darkness for the past few days, being in the Upside Down and then closing all the curtains upstairs as soon as you’d got back home. You’d almost forgotten how bright daylight could be.

Steve was waiting in the kitchen for you, his eyes visibly glowing when you walked into the room, as though you lit up the small space when you stepped in. A smile tugged on your lips that suddenly dropped when you remembered he was looking at Nancy exactly the same not too long ago. The same nagging thoughts you had earlier pulling you back. Knock off version of Nancy. Now that Johnathan was back, of course he came running back to you. Steve looked down to your hands and frowned, he didn’t remember you hurting your hands so much they needed bandaging,

“Sweetheart? What happened?” Steve was by your side in an instant his hands gently over yours as he inspects the bandages,

“I dropped some glass, not a big deal. Just got a little cut up in the process of cleaning it up.” You lied through your teeth, you couldn’t be bothered to talk about Eddie again and how you’d broken the last gift he would ever give to you out of anger. Steve continued to look at your hands, careful not to disturb the bandages around them,

“Do you want me to have a look? I can bandage these a bit better for you, make sure there’s no glass and...” you cut him off with a, ‘I’m fine.’ And pulled your hands away from his warmth, Steve looked a little deflated, but understood. All of you had patched each other up countless times that it was almost routine now, you’d learnt how to stitch wounds, what ointments and antiseptics to use, you basically had a mini pharmacy under your sink for things that people would never believe.

“Honestly, I’m fine Steve.” You forced a smile and went round the Kitchen Island feeling his eyes burning through you. Your house wasn’t the biggest, it was snug. The kitchen was weirdly one of the bigger rooms and probably the nicest, it was one of the only rooms your mum put any effort into before she started gallivanting around the globe. It was bright with several flowers littering the windowsills, yellow lace curtains to match some of the décor. How the flowers hadn’t died yet, you didn’t know. You never watered them.

You and the rest of the group had spent ample time in this kitchen cooking cookies and brownies for movie night, Max and Lucas always managing to burn popcorn, Steve rushing to open windows and flail a tea towel at the fire alarm to stop it beeping whilst Robin was toppling over laughing at Dustin with brownie mix all over his mouth, You’d also spent ample time in here with the older lot of the group, your mum had quite the alcohol stash. Probably enough to open a bar downtown. From several different bottles of vodka, gin, whiskey to wine, beer, cider and god knows what other potent liquid that did the job, which is exactly what you were heading for now.

Steve was slumped against one of the dining chairs as he watched you move around the island, he knew exactly what cabinet you were riffling through, “Ahhh, there it is.” You picked out an unopened bottle of vodka and put it on the side as you went through a different cupboard to pick out a decent glass.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Steve sighed as he watched your every move, “I know things aren’t great at the minute, but we really need to pull together.” You opened the vodka and poured a small glass, turning around and leaning against the counter with your ankles crossed, the glass of vodka in your hand. You shrugged and took a gulp, the burning from the alcohol igniting your insides.

“Look, sweetheart, please.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, the lack of product evident, no one ever saw Steve walking around with no product in his hair, probably because without it, it was so fluffy and never sat in the right place according to him, “this isn’t the answer, that isn’t going to help. It’s not going to bring...”

“Shut up!” you screeched, smashing the glass back onto the counter, thankfully not breaking it, “you think I don’t know that, Steve? For goodness sake! How stupid do you think I am?!” Steve is taken aback, he’s over stepped a line and he knows it, “I know it’s not going to bring Eddie back it’s not going to stop what’s going on here,” you look around the room, “it’s not going to stop Max from being in hospital, it’s not going to stop those poor kids dreaming about what happened over and over again, how fucked they’re going to be in years’ time if they even make it that far, from losing countless people and battling these things over and over again, but maybe, just maybe it will stop my racing thoughts, the hurt, the anger, the resentment I have for this stupid fucking town for five goddamn minutes, okay?! everything is falling apart at the seams, we’ve all lost so much, I even thought you were getting cosy with Nancy again!” you bite your tongue getting caught up in the rift, Steve looked towards you bewildered. You turn back to the vodka bottle, filling your glass halfway, drinking it down like water and filling it up again, “I’m not asking you to understand Steve, I’m not even asking you to deal with this, you know where the fucking door is.”

Steve stood up from the table and walked over to you slowly, turning you to face him, moving the hair that had fallen so effortlessly over your features, “I love you Y/N, whatever you thought you saw between me and Nancy was not that. I’m happy for her and Johnathan, really. I’m so glad were now with the right people, the people who ground us and make this stupid crazy life worth living, you’re my muse. I would never do that to you, sweetheart. Not ever,” moving his hands over your covered arms, to your hands, holding them gently in his, “I’m not going anywhere Y/N, just please, I don’t want to lose you too. I can’t.”

You looked Steve dead in the eyes, his glassed over, tears threatening to fall. The beautiful honey eyes you’d got lost in time and time again, “Maybe you already have.” His hands let go of yours as he visibly slumped, and took a step back, you might as well have been holding a gun, a bullet to his chest with the way he was looking at you. Turning your back to him, your own tears threatening to fall, you grabbed the bottle again unscrewing the cap, pouring yourself another glass.

“What do you mean?” Steve is silent again, his presence still behind you, feelings of uncertainty heavy in the air, “Y/N, look at me please...” the defeat in his voice made you feel awful, this was your boyfriend of two years, the person that had stayed by your side that whole time, through everything. The good times and the bad, the way you both laughed, the random dates he took you on, sometimes even after work, some of which ended up being group outings as one of the kids had seen you both and then got on the walkie talkies as quickly as possible, they ended up calling that ‘code blue’ as the first time it happened Steve was in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, the movie nights, the late night talks, walks, your safety net, the countless jokes that weren’t even funny. Helping him with his hair, the days he was sick and you’d take care of him, and the days he would do exactly the same back for you. He never faltered, he was always brave, always stayed strong for you, for everyone, but here he was, seconds away from breaking down. A painful ache in his voice that cut you in half, the same ache breaking the last pieces of your heart that were still intact, you wiped your tears away with the back of your sweater, turning around to see Steve once more, pain drowning his features,

“I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t do this anymore.” he sucked in a shaky breath as a sob broke from his lips. Pain. Pain that you had caused. You finished your glass of vodka, keeping your back to Steve, you couldn’t watch him break, you couldn’t see the sadness and heartache on his face. As if he hadn’t been through enough recently,

“Y/N, please,” his voice was low, strained, as though he was bleeding out on the spot behind you, “don’t do this, we can get through this, we can get through anything, please just don’t...” you turned round to Steve his eyes visibly blood shot probably from tiredness and the tears that were free flowing down his cheeks,

“I’m sorry Steve.” You walked past him, a slight sway to your walk from too much alcohol in a short space of time on an empty stomach as you tackled the stairs, all you wanted to do was sleep, before you even got half way up the stairs you heard the front door close causing you to stop on the spot, your own sobs now tearing way through your body, this pain was tearing you apart, so much loss, but you had caused this last one.

You found yourself sitting on the end of your bed looking at the pictures behind your desk once again, would you ever feel that kind of happiness again or was this the new norm? A burning hole in the middle of your chest that was once whole and pushed together in the shape of the people you loved. All of those memories seemed like a lifetime ago, how time and life could be fleeting, oh how you took it all for granted.

***

Two weeks had passed.

Two long weeks.

Probably the longest two weeks of your life.

In those two weeks you’d had almost everyone knock on your door, mainly Robin and Dustin, “Y/N, open this door right now or I promise you I’ll put a brick through your window and climb in there myself.” Dustin shouted as he looked through the small glass patterns on the front door for signs of movement, “I’m not joking Y/N.” Dustin looked around your drive and picked up half a brick, “ten seconds, Y/N!” finally he saw movement and put the brick down on the grass, you opened the door and huffed,

“Dustin, every day for two weeks, ae you not bored yet?” He pushed you aside gently and kicked his shoes off before throwing himself onto the sofa and turning on the small TV as if he lived there, “and how can I be of assistance today?” you stood in the doorway of the living room, you no longer had the bandages on your hands, the cuts on your hands were hardly visible now, your other physical injuries were also doing much better, some might not even scar, not that you cared about a bit of scarring,

“You look like shit,” Dustin looked back at you and scoffed, he wasn’t wrong, you’d been wearing the same kind of clothes for two weeks, anything you could get your hands on. Mix matched sweats and sweaters, sometimes Steve’s t-shirts, on a very rare occasion you treated yourself by wearing a pair of jeans. Your usual full of life hair was lifeless and scraggly from the lack of brushing, your eyes blood shot from lack of sleep, red lips from gnawing at them constantly,

“Well, love you too, Dustin,” you rolled your eyes and went to the kitchen fetching juice and cookies on a tray, “so what is it today?” Dustin cleared his throat and made his way into the kitchen, taking a few cookies off the tray as he took a seat around the table drinking juice you’d bought specially for him,

“It’s Steve,” your breathing hitched as you looked to the floor, biting at your already raw lips, you pulled a second chair out and sat opposite Dustin, taking your own cookie and nibbling at it. You hadn’t eaten well for two weeks now,

“What about him?” you took a swig of your own juice and sit looking towards your younger friend,

“Don’t give me that, Y/N. I know you still care, Robin tells me things, y’know, and you’re not someone that doesn’t care about people,” Dustin shook his head, “this act is bullshit, Y/N. Steve is over there wondering what he did wrong, what he can do to help you, he’s broken, Y/N and none of us can get through to him, ne needs you and you need him and we need you both. We need our kick ass non babysitters back. We need to stick together. We can’t all break otherwise what do we have?” you bit the inside of your cheek letting Dustin talk, you had been unfair, everything in this world was so wrong and you were breaking the only good thing in it,

“I’m scared, Dusty,” you looked to him and he nodded, not wasting time to eat more cookies, all the kids loved your cookies,

“We all are, Y/N. you know this isn’t over right?” you looked down knowingly and started to play with the patterned table cover, “Steve needs you, I need you, we all need you. You know Eddie wouldn’t want this right?” you breathed deeply at the mention of his name, “you’re the bravest person he knew, he told me, and do you know what else?” you looked up from the table, “he loved you and Steve together, he saw how happy he made you and that’s what he wanted for you. He wanted you to be happy.” You sighed, breath shaky as a tear fell from your lashes onto the tablecloth you were playing with moments before,

“Well he got one thing wrong, he was the bravest.” Dustin put his hand over yours and gave it a light squeeze,

“Please just come and see Steve? Everyone is round there trying to cheer him up and he looks just as shit as you, if not more. If you don’t come with me, the others are going to try one by one, I’m the nicer one.” He stood up from the table, hopeful,

“Dustin I can’t,” disappointment clouded his eyes, “I can’t go over there empty handed, help me make some cookies?” the usual toothy grin from Dustin was back, one you hadn’t seen for a such a long time, one that made your heart swell. You loved those kids so much and you’d do anything to protect them, you felt bad for wallowing in in your own self-pity when everyone you cared about was going through the exact same thing as you. You’d nearly lost the one thing that made sense and you were going to try and not let that slip any further. You and Dustin got to work on the cookies, not failing to get flour all over the surface and yourselves. Once the cookies were in the oven and cooking, you looked over to Dustin, “Keep an eye on the cookies for me? I’m going to try and sort this out a bit,” you pointed to your mop of a hair as he grinned and nodded, picking up his walkie as you left the room,

“Guys, it’s Dustin, over.” He waited for the usual static of the walkie patiently as he pressed more buttons hoping to hear from the others,

“Hearing you loud and clear, Dustin, what’s the status, over.” Mike was on the other end, uncertainty in his voice, but hugged by hope, Will, El and even Lucas in the background hugging over the other walkie talkie hoping for a shred of good news. Max was still in hospital, though in good hands. There was hope that she’d still wake up, she was strong and a fighter. Lucas sat by her bedside every chance he got, but he too needed fresh air sometimes, to see his friends. Being cooped up waiting for someone to wake up wouldn’t do anyone any good if it was constant. Same four walls day in, day out. It took some time for him to realise that however.

“Guys, we have ourselves a code blue. Over.” Dustin chimed excitedly as the rest of the youngsters screamed in joy, they were out of ear shot from Steve and Robin, all around the pool as it was such a lovely day in Hawkins, warm with a light breeze hitting the trees and pool every now and then causing small ripples, birds still chirping. Even amidst all the uncertainty and heartache, life could be beautiful.

You looked into the mirror having put a little bit of makeup on, an extreme rarity for you with everything that had gone on the past few years, you’d finally put a brush through your washed hair and changed into something more you, high waisted jeans, a black t-shirt and a light denim jacket you could take off if you wanted, you felt the warmth through the bathroom window as you looked at yourself in the mirror once more, “presentable.” You could smell cookies downstairs signalling Dustin had kept to his word and kept an eye on then, not letting them burn. You hurried down the stairs with a skip to your step and twirled to Dustin who was standing in the hall with a cookie jar in hand, ready to pack them once they’d cooled a little,

“There’s the Y/N I know! Yes!” Dustin fist bumped the air with his free hand wishing the cookies would cool down faster. You gathered your shoes and a small bag to put your keys and anything else you needed in,

“what if he doesn’t want to see me?,” you stopped in your tracks, looking at Dustin unsure, “what if I’ve hurt him too much and he never wants to see me again?” you play with the hem of your denim jacket, backtracking, wondering if this was a good idea after all,

“you’re the only person he wants to see, Y/N. we just invite ourselves in and he’s too nice to tell us to get out,” you shake your head,

“You know that isn’t true, he loves you guys as much as I do, even if he’s in the worst mood possible, he’d always rather have you guys around, you know that,” Dustin nodded, putting the cooler cookies into the jar sealing them tightly, “did you bike over here?” you questioned as Dustin shook his head,

“I didn’t,” he grinned and dug his hand in his back pocket, pulling Steve’s car keys out and waving them in your face, “he doesn’t know, obviously,” Dustin shrugged as you shook your head and put your head in your hand laughing in disbelief, a real laugh, something you forgot you could do,

“Dustin! You could have caused an accident!” you tried to sound serious over your laughing that just wouldn’t stop,

“well, you don’t see many cars on the road these days after what happened, maybe people are too scared,” he shrugged once more, “not me, now. Let’s gooooo!” Dustin ran for the front door, cookies in hand, and his small backpack you didn’t realise he had draped over a shoulder,

“Ahhh. Not so fast, keys!” you extended your hand to Dustin, Steve absolutely loved that car, sometimes you wondered if he loved that car more than you and okay, Dustin got there safely, but now he was in your care he wouldn’t be driving that thing,

“Spoil sport,” he ginned as he handed you the keys stepping out into the outside. You took a deep breath. The smell of the outside you hadn’t seen in weeks. The light breeze through your hair the sun tingling against your skin, butterflies and birds, nature. Things you hasn’t stopped to look at for such a long time, “earth to Y/N,” you shook your head and walked towards the car, opening it for you both.

You hadn’t driven in forever, was it something you could forget? Fastening your seatbelt, making sure Dustin did the same, starting the car and opening the windows, you pulled the sun visor down, a small Polaroid falling onto your lap. You turned it around to see a picture of you and Steve, your heart beating against your chest as you ran your finger over the photo. It was the first one you took together, before you were even official. Halloween 1984. That stupid party, the night Steve and Nancy broke up. You found Steve crying on the back step, you spent the rest of the night trying to cheer him up. One too many beers, weed and a stupid camera, “he kept it...” Dustin looked up at you as you put the photo in the dashboard opposite Dustin,

“Of course he did, he keeps everything,” you didn’t know that, you didn’t say anything further as you pulled off the drive, it wasn’t a long drive. It was actually an easy enough walk, you didn’t live far from Steve. The nights he would randomly turn up at your house and throw pebbles at the window even though no one else was in the house, small memories making you smile.

The drive was quiet, Dustin looking out the window the whole way there, your heart still hammering against your chest, would people be happy to see you, would they hate you, would things be the same, what the fuck were you going to say to Steve? Pulling onto his drive, things got too real, you heard laughter from the other younger people of the group outside as you locked up the car, Dustin rushing to the back gate with cookies, though before he could you were tackled by El, Mike, Will and Lucas, “Y/N OH MY GOD YOU’RE HERE!” mike exclaimed as you laughed with the kids, some of them sopping wet from the pool, of course they still loved you, “we all missed you so much, it’s so good to see you” you ruffled everyone’s hair, something you always used to do when they were younger, something you still hadn’t stopped, tears in your eyes, you smiled, for once they weren’t sad tears,

“I’ve missed you all so much, I’m sorry I haven’t been around, I’m sorry I haven’t been stronger for you all.” They all hugged you tighter, understanding, when did they all grow up?

“we all understand,” Lucas looks at you empathetically, “Max would want us all together, so would Eddie,” you hugged them all just that little bit tighter as they lead you into the back gate, not much had changed in Steve’s back yard except the grass was unkempt, the pool still clean somehow, “we will let you talk to Steve now,” you took a deep breath and looked towards the back sliding doors Robin leaning against them smiling as she ran out to hug you,

“Oh praise the heavens you’re here, I cannot deal with him in there for one minute longer,” you looked towards robin apologetically and she shook her head, “none of that, Y/N. Go see him, bring our Steve back, yeah?” she smiled and sat next to the kids, stealing one of the cookies you made.

You made your way into the house, the house that had so many different memories, you kicked your shoes off and put them where you always do before poking your head into the living room, Steve’s back was towards you as he was staring at the TV something you guessed he’d been doing for the past couple weeks, a lot like you really. His hair was too dishevelled and free of product, but oh fuck did he look like home. “If you’re there to try get me outside in the pool again, Robin I swear to fuck I will change the locks on this house.” He signed defeated and tuned round, his pupils dilating, shock on his face, the evident bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, “Y/N?” he scrambled off the sofa as fast as he could, scared you were a figment of his imagination, “is... is it really you? You’re here...” he stood opposite, reaching out to you,

“Steve...” tears welled in your eyes, “I am so, so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you, I didn’t want what I said, I was so lost in my own mind,” he pulled you into a bone crushing hug, “please forgive me, I’m so sorry,” you pulled away to look at him, tears in his own eyes as he brushed your free falling ones away with his thumb, “I love you so much, I was so scared of losing you too that I fucked up and lost you anyway,” he pulled you back into him, the smell of cedar, bergamot and a slight hint of cigarette smoke, home.

“You didn’t lose me, sweetheart. I love you, more than anything,” he pulled you into him, lips crashing together, cola Popsicle and a small hint of your home cooked cookies that Dustin must have been bringing to him secretly. Everyone loved your cookies. He pulled away and smashed his lips against yours again over and over, the taste of salt now from both of your tears, small lazy kisses planted all over your mouth as he pulled away, your lips slightly swollen, his honey eyes full of life once more, he was never going to let you go. He pulled you flush with his body, your head resting against his chest, as he ran his fingers through your hair, “you’re my home, Y/N. Wherever you are. That’s home to me. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, okay?” you kissed him again, your cherry chapstick smearing over both of your mouths,

“you’re my home too, Mr. Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington,” you looked up to him, a smile on your face, no longer crying as you knocked your hip with his. The emptiness in your heart glazing over a little, the pieces of your broken heart slowly reconnecting, the feeling of life, love, family.

“Have you seen my hair right now?” he ran a hair though it, washed, but lifeless. “Give me a minute, yeah? Put a movie on.” He kissed you softly before sprinting out of the room. You sat on the sofa you’d sat on countless times as you went through old rentals that would probably never be returned as the video store was one of the places to be destroyed, you placed a VHS in the TV as Steve bounded down the stairs, his hair no longer lifeless and messy, but perfect. Your smile so big your jaw could dislocate, “better? The hair is back,” he grinned and jumped over you on the sofa, “Return of the Jedi? One of my favourites.” He pulled your legs over his lap, both of you draped over the sofa like nothing had changed, his hands caressing your knee, smiles not leaving either of your faces.

“GUYS, CODE BLUEEEE.” Dustin shouted from behind the sofa as everyone else bundled in, “and look at that, Farrah Fawcett spray,” Dustin grinned,

“That’s top secret, dude!” Steve shook his head, a genuine laugh falling from his mouth as everyone pulled blankets and cushions around themselves, your cookies in hand. A good old fashioned movie night, things were going to be okay, you looked over to Steve, his eyes glistening as he squeezed your leg. The people you chose as family, Robin in the corner of the room beaming for the both of you. Both of her best friends back together, where they belong. There was a long road ahead for all of you, but at least you’d always face these things together. You were all so much stronger together. A team. A family.

#steve harrington #steveharrington/reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #steve harrington angst #steveharringtonxreader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you

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loving-barnes · 19 days

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LOGAN HOWLETT - REMEMBRANCE

A/N: And another one! I don't know. I got this idea and turned it into a story. It's okay, I guess. Let me know. I tried.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: angst, sadness, some fluff

My stories are written mature audiences - 18+!

Words: 3400+

Important note: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine (which means he's tall as fuck!)

FULL MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - REMEMBRANCE

My heart and soul filled with sadness. I knew my biological parents gave up on me years ago, but for them to do this to me, was unacceptable. For me, this went too far. They knew this would break me.

When I got the call from my father, which was shocking as it was, all the happiness I felt that day left my body like a quick rain. Those words caused me pain I hadn’t felt in years. He took my breath away.

Once the call ended, my legs brought me to the lake that belonged to the school estate. It was farther away, hidden in woods. The students weren’t allowed to visit it without any supervision. Usually, it was my safe place - a place where I would collect my thoughts and get my shit together. If I was nowhere to be found, some people knew I would be here, trying to get over anything that troubled me.

The air was cold. Autumn was coming to an end. Winter was already at the door. It seemed that even the sky cried for me today, all grey and cloudy. The ground was wet and muddy. The scent of rain lingered in the air. It was only a matter of time before its ears would drop again.

I had no idea how long I was standing there. My arms were wrapped around my body, giving me the hug I needed. No one knew what happened. I couldn’t bring myself to go to Storm or my boyfriend and tell them what happened. Worse things were happening in our lives. I didn’t want to be whiny.

Deep breath in and then out. Slowly, before you start to choke on your sobs.

My body was slightly shaking from the cold. I knew I could use my mutation and warm myself up. But I wanted to feel as normal as possible - like a human without any abilities. I wanted to experience life as it was. That included mourning. The damn coat I brought with me was thin, good for warmer autumns.

“Y/N!”

I released the rest of the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Logan’s voice was loud and upset. I could hear his heavy steps coming closer to me. I sighed. I hoped to avoid this confrontation before collecting all my thoughts and returning to the X-mansion. Gently, I turned my head to the side to acknowledge his presence.

“I’ve been looking for you for hours,” he huffed. “You skipped all your classes, didn’t say a damn word about where you were going. I asked around and nobody knew where you were. Shit, I thought you left or worse, something happened to you.”

His anger was noticeable in his voice. I hated that my absence made him upset. That was something I didn’t want to achieve. A month ago, they almost got me on a mission. No wonder Logan was worried.

Tears collected in my eyes, threatening to spill. I tried to turn my head away from him, not to see my sorrow. I hugged myself tighter. He was mad at me, I could tell. The energy around us was insane.

But then he stopped talking and focused on me. The tension coming from him eased. “Y/N?” his voice got lower. “Are you okay?” He became worried.

Another sad sigh escaped my lips. I had to talk to him. I had to confess what had happened. “No,” I admitted. “No, I’m not.”

Logan’s hand crawled around my shoulders, pressing me closer to his body. His scent hit my nose. The cigars, the cologne and something so him made me close my eyes and enjoy his closeness. I had to admit this was what I needed.

“What’s going on, baby?” he asked softly. “You can tell me.”

When I raised my eyes and looked into his, he instinctively wrapped his other arm around me, pressing me to his strong body. Logan pressed a kiss on top of my head. This time, he waited patiently before I started to speak.

Deep breath in and out. “I, uh,” I started slowly. My voice wasn’t strong. “I got a call from my father,” I said.

“What?” Logan was surprised. He knew about my past, what my parents did to me. So to hear this was a bit shocking. “What did he want?”

Again, deep breath in and out. “My grandma died this morning,” my voice trembled. I tried so hard not to cry. I had to be a big, strong girl. People die. That’s how life was.

Logan hid me in his embrace, resting his head on top of mine. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was so harsh on you when I came here,” he apologised. “Why didn’t ya tell me? You should have come to me, princess.”

“Here’s the plot twist,” I tried to sound funny but failed. “I cannot come to the funeral.”

“What?”

Slowly, I pushed away from Logan’s embrace, only to meet his eyes. “My father called me about her death,” I started to explain what happened. “He made it clear that I cannot attend the funeral. He didn’t give me anything about the date or the location. He said, ‘You should be glad I called you about this.’”

Logan’s hands appeared on my face, stroking my cheeks lovingly. The anger was evident on his face. This time, it was not aimed at me. I could imagine where his mind went - trying to kill my father 50 ways.

“The only person who accepted me is gone and I can’t say goodbye,” I added. This time, the tears escaped my eyes. The grief wanted out, to be seen and heard. “I can’t say goodbye, Logan. I can’t…” It’s been so long since I cried like this. It was hard to catch a breath, to stop the hot tears streaming down my cheeks and onto Logan’s hands.

Again, I was pushed into his arms as he consoled me. His fingers were in my hair, lightly brushing it. He was a tough guy, but Logan knew how to show me affection and tenderness.

This was one of the times when I struggled to be a mutant. Because of my mutation, my weirdness, I was kicked out of the family when I was fourteen. The only person who kept me safe and hidden was my beloved grandmother. She was the one who helped me get to the school. And now, she was gone. The only thing that remained was the secret she shared with me several years ago.

“Shh,” I heard Logan’s soothing voice. “It’s okay, baby. Let it all out. I’m here for you. I’m sorry how I came to you. I should have known…”

I cried. I didn’t know for how long, but I let the tears fall, let the grief consume me whole. I never told Logan about my grandmother. He knew how fucked up my family was. Why did I keep her a secret when she was the first bright thing in my life?

Logan helped me get back to school. I had no idea how much time had passed. My hands were cold, my whole body was shivering. All I knew was his lingering touch on my waist and arms as he kept walking with me. He never let me go. He was present, focused on me. How would I ever repay him for this?

Some students saw us walk through the hallway until he led me back to my room. Well, it wasn’t my room anymore. Logan stayed with me since the beginning of our relationship. Back when he had his room, it was empty. It served solely for sleeping purposes.

He helped me get off the coat and put me to bed. “Rest, baby,” he said softly. Logan pressed his lips against my forehead. “You’ve been through a lot.”

I grabbed him by the leather jacket. “I don’t want to be alone,” I whispered to him. “Please, stay with me. Please.”

He took off his leather jacket and climbed onto the bed, pulling me as close to him as he could. Logan’s arms wrapped around my body. “My sweet girl,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry I was so mean to you when I found you at the lake.”

“That’s okay,” I said.

“No, no it’s not. I was worried. I’m sorry, baby.”

Logan’s soothing voice slowly helped me fall asleep. I needed a nap after all the information I had learnt. My grandmother was gone. My family still hated me. I wasn’t allowed to say one last goodbye to the person who loved me for who I was.

. . .

When I woke up, I first noticed the darkness coming from outside. Was it already that late? I yawned, stretched my limbs. My hand reached for the phone. It took me two tries until I managed to grab it. It was seven o’clock. I’ve slept for hours. I felt as if someone had slapped my face. Shaking off the tiredness, I sat up.

That’s when I realised Logan wasn’t next to me. He wasn’t in the room. I couldn’t hear the water running in the bathroom. I was alone.

A shiver ran through my body. The air inside my room was cold. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to warm up a little. For a brief moment, everything was fine. It felt like a regular day - until it wasn’t. Everything that happened came rushing back to my mind. The reality hit me like a train. There was nothing I could do about it. I wasn’t allowed to attend the funeral, to say the goodbye I longed for. They forbade me to see my grandmother one last time.

The urge to smash something came out of nowhere and it was strong. Anger bubbled inside of me. The sadness changed. It morphed into something, that made my brain turn dark. If I could set a person on fire, I would. I glanced at my hand. I could feel the heat radiating from it. One more upset thought and it would end up in flames.

The door to the bedroom opened. Logan came back. He sneaked into the room, closing it carefully behind him. He tried to be silent. When he turned, he noticed me sitting on the bed. “Hey,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

My eyes travelled over his leather jacket. Where had he been? “I am… feeling it all,” I replied. “Everything is bubbling inside of me. All negative emotions are fighting and I don’t know how to deal with it.” I became quickly frustrated.

He sat on the bed, resting one hand on my thigh. He squeezed it reassuringly. “How about a short walk before dinner?” he asked. His gentle voice was welcomed.

Blinking, I nodded. I liked that idea. “Sure. Fresh air will help me calm down a little.”

Logan helped me get my coat and made me wear a scarf. “It’s cold out there,” he said with a little smile. I opened my mouth to ask silly questions when his lips found mine in a gentle kiss. It caught me off-guard. “Love ya, baby,” he whispered.

Before he could pull away, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my body to his. Again, I let out the breath I didn’t know I kept holding inside. When his arms sneaked around my waist, I whispered, “I love you, too.”

The hallways were empty and silent. Weird. At this time, the student would hang out with their friends. It was possible Storm or Charles made a program for them. We got to walk around the place unnoticed.

Because we were alone, Logan held my hand in his. When my eyes glided to him, I could see the faint smile. He seemed proud. What made him that way? His head turned to me. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I’m just… watching you.”

“Creep,” he teased and I chuckled. I knew he wanted to cheer me up. We liked making fun of each other. “I was wondering,” Logan changed the subject. “How about we go away together the next weekend?”

I blinked a few times. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Just the two of us, far away from the school. We can visit the mountains, rent a cabin.”

My lips stretched into a big smile. “I would love that. Do you think Charles will let us go?”

“Scott and Jean got their honeymoon for two weeks. I think the Professor will let us take the weekend off,” he grimaced. “I think we both deserve it, baby.”

I squeezed his hand harder, excited by the suggestion. “Yeah, we do. I need some time off. I was ready to set everything on fire,” I confessed. “I can feel the emotions bubbling inside of me. You, saying to go away for the weekend, made me simmer down.”

While we walked further into the woods, I realised we were heading back to the lake. I raised a brow, turning my head to him.

Logan didn’t say a word. He simply held my hand and led the way to the place where I loved to take a moment and think - or to calm down.

From afar, I noticed something in the distance. A light. It was small, but it was there. And then another light. Fireflies, maybe. I didn’t think much about it until we reached a point where I could see bigger movement - people. I raised a brow. I noticed Storm’s white hair. When she turned, she held a candle in her hands. I stopped walking.

Logan brought my left hand to his lips, kissing the top of it. “Come, baby.”

“W-what is that?” I questioned. I only knew that he wasn’t proposing. Logan would never do it in front of people.

He gently dragged me forward. “You deserve to say goodbye to the one person who accepted you in your family,” he explained. “It’s fucked up that your family banned you from the funeral. So, I wanted to give you this.”

My eyes filled with tears. It was sweet and sad at the same time. Once we approached all our friends, our teammates, I lost it. Instantly, I pressed my whole body into Logan’s arms, hiding my face in his chest. What he did showed me how much he cared. No one ever cared for me this way.

I felt a pair of hands on my back. They were smaller. The scent of Storm’s perfume hit my nose. Hesitantly, I turned around. My red teary eyes met her dark one.

“Oh, Y/N,” she whispered my name. In a second, she pulled me into a hug. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

It was overwhelming. When I pulled from her arms, I scanned the surroundings. Everyone held a candle in their hands. Charles’s eyes were staring at me, face filled with sadness. He was close to Jean and Scott.

My heart was breaking and mending at the same time. This gesture meant the world to me. I took a few deep breaths to calm down. “Y-you didn’t have to do this,” I whispered. I didn’t trust my voice.

“This is the least we can do for you, Y/N,” said Jean. She wasn’t holding a candle. There was a wreath resting on her hands. There was a mix of flowers and four tea candles on it. She handed it to me.

“It’s beautiful. T-thank you.”

“Everyone should be able to say their last goodbyes to those they loved,” Scott added.

With Logan and Storm walking by my sides, we approached the shore. I handed the wreath to Logan to hold it. A tiny flame appeared on my finger. I lit up all four tea candles. It was beautiful.

I looked into Logan’s eyes, shivering. He handed me the wreath. “Do as you feel, baby,” he whispered to me. “Say your goodbyes.”

I turned on my heel, having one last glimpse at all the people gathered at the lake. This was my family. These people helped me get through a lot. Charles took me to the school and gave me a second chance. Storm was my best friend. Peter, or as I’d like to call him Speedy, was a charmer, but loyal and like a brother. Piotr, Bobby, Rogue and many more belong to my family. And Logan, my sweet grump, was the love of my life.

“I knew your grandmother, Y/N,” said Charles before I could open my mouth. After hearing that, my eyes widened. “She was a sweet woman.”

“How?”

“I met with her when she found out you were a mutant,” he explained. “She was the one who arranged for you to come to this school. I had the honour of meeting her a few times. She asked about you a lot. I always gave her every update about you.”

I shook my head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He sighed. “She asked me not to. All she wanted for you was a normal, peaceful life.”

I made a face. It was a mixture of anger and confusion. “Why? I don’t understand.”

“Your father watched her like a hawk. He feared she would be in contact with you. And we both know how your father viewed you or the mutants in general.”

I took a few deep breaths through the nose. In the end, she wanted to keep me safe, hidden from my fucked up biological family. She was the only light from that world I had left. And now, it was time to say goodbye.

“Thank you for telling me about it,” I said calmly. “She was an angel. Did she tell you that her husband was a mutant? Yeah, she told me before I came here. Unfortunately, he died when my father was a child. He never knew about it.”

“Was she a mutant too?” Storm asked.

I shook my head. “No. I inherited the mutation from him. It skipped my father and I was the one blessed with it,” I smiled. It was a blessing in disguise. Because of my mutation, the invincible string pulled me here, to this school where I met my other family.

I turned back to the water and squatted. I placed the wreath on the water's surface. I pushed it away from the shore. A light breeze stroked my cheek. Storm used her power. The wind moved it farther away.

“Thank you for everything. Thank you for bringing me here, where I found my new family,” I whispered into the wind, hoping that it would carry my words into the other world. “Now I get to help mutant kids to have a better, educated life.”

I let out a choked sob. I wanted to cry - was it from happiness or sadness? Was it both? I didn’t know. All I knew I needed to let it out.

“You were bigger than the whole sky,” were my last words before the heavy cry started.

Immediately, two strong hands wrapped around my shoulders and pressed me to a muscular body. Logan’s scent hit my nose. He was there for me, held me until I calmed down.

I was surrounded by love and support. They showed me they were there for me during happy moments and sad times.

“Let this be a uniting moment,” I heard Scott’s voice. “Through every moment of our lives, whether it’s good or bad, we have each other. We are one family. We stand together and fight for what’s right. We give one another a shoulder to lean on. Remember that no matter what, we have this family.”

I pushed a little from Logan, only to lift my eyes to meet his. Instantly, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead - in front of everyone. It made me melt.

I then noticed Scott holding Jean in his hands, Storm talking to Charles. Bobby and Rogue shared a kiss. Peter was nowhere to be found. Everyone took the moment to their hearts.

“If only I could introduce you to my grandmother,” I said to Logan when I turned my head on the other side, watching the wreath slowly float on the lake. “She would like you a lot.”

“You think so, bub?” he asked, chuckling.

I hummed. “I can see how she’d tease you for everything.”

“Ah, I see it runs in the blood,” he squeezed my sides. “How do you feel?”

The answer was simple. “Good, peaceful but sad,” I admitted. “Thank you for doing this.”

He lifted my head with his fingers. “Anything for ya, princess.” His lips found mine in a simple kiss that spoke a thousand words.

#Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x female reader #Wolverine x reader #Wolverine x female reader #Logan Howlett fanfiction #Marlve fanfiction #Logan Howlett x you #reader x Logan Howlett

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kat651 · 2 months

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Imagine: Loki finding the Norse mythology book in your room and thinking you’ll be terrified of him now.

You set the book down on your bed, leaving it open at the spot you’d been reading, and walked out of your room, not bothering to close the door. You had no worries about anyone coming in.

Well, except for Thor. And that would only be because he forgot something of his on your desk after playing a game with you and Loki. (By playing I mean losing miserably)

Loki poked his head in the doorway. “Y/n?” When he didn’t see you he turned to leave but stopped, the brightly colored book on your bed catching his eye. He took one look at the contents and his stomach turned into a tight knot. You were the only one who didn’t judge him for his actions in New York. But now that you have read this? He would be shocked if you could even walk past him without cowering in fear.

Loki walked down the hall with his head hung low. He went into the kitchen and plopped down in a chair. He had been planning to tell you something that had been at the front of his mind for weeks now. He was going to tell you that he loved you but now? Now he was heartbroken and angry with himself. Why did he have to be so foolish all those years ago?

“Loki, you ok?” You asked, bringing him back from his thoughts.

Loki took one look at you and scooted his chair away, not wanting to frighten you. “I-I’m fine…” he said in a quiet voice, not meeting your gaze, trying to seem as unintimidating as possible.

You went to touch his shoulder when you saw, though he tried to hide it, a tear slipped down his cheek.

Your heart clenched at the sight and you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

Loki trembled before letting out a sob that he tried to suppress, his whole body moving as he did so. He then stood and silently walked out of the room, brushing away tears as he did so.

You waited a moment before going to his room and knocking on his door.

“I need to be alone right now,” came a muffled voice.

You frowned and walked away, wondering what was bothering him.

You re-entered the kitchen and decided to make a batch of cookies. You’d overheard Thor mention that Loki hadn’t gotten to try many Midgardian foods yet.

You settled on just a simple batch of chocolate chip cookies, nothing too extravagant.

Thor walked in as you began to put the ingredients in the mixer. “What ya doin’?”

You looked over at Thor with a slight frown. “Loki is in a bad mood, something upset him so I figured I’d make something for him, sweets always seem to make me feel better.”

Thor put an arm around you. “I’m glad Loki has you looking out for him.”

You smiled.

Thor ended up helping you with the cookies, occasionally sneaking chocolate chips along the way when he thought you weren’t looking.

“Thor Odinson! Put it down! Quit eating the ingredients or there won’t be any left to make cookies with!” You scolded, shaking your head and playfully waking his hand as you chuckled.

Loki decided to slip out of his room and head to the kitchen, he wanted to steal Thor’s leftovers from the Chinese restaurant. That’s when he saw you laughing as you held up a spoon to Thor's mouth. “Say ah.”

Thor ate whatever was on the spoon and smiled. “Perfect.”

Loki felt a new wave of tears and ran back to his room where he cried into his pillow. Did you love Thor?

-.-.-

When you finished with the cookies you put a few on a plate. “I’ll leave the rest for whoever wants it.” You said. “Don’t eat them all, Thor!”

You knocked on Loki’s door. No answer. You slowly opened it and found Loki asleep on his bed, his shirt had ridden up a bit revealing a few scars on his back. You quietly walked over set the cookies on his bedside table and scribbled a little note. You then covered him with an extra blanket since he’d fallen asleep on the comforter.

You were about to leave when Loki let out a sad whimper in his sleep. You frowned and hesitated before leaning down, brushing aside the hair that fell on his face, and placing a gentle kiss on his temple. “I love you Loki…” you whispered. “I wish I could say that to you when you were awake…”

You turned to see Thor standing in the doorway, phone in his hand. “I got it all on camera.”

“Thor!” You whisper yelled and ran after him. “Come back here!”

Loki roused from his sleep and placed his hand on his temple where you’d kissed him only a moment before. He looked over and saw the plate along with the note. He grabbed a cookie, biting it and he glanced at the note.

‘I’m always here if you need someone to talk to

-y/n

P.S. Thor helped make the cookies, I can’t take all the credit.’

Loki closed his eyes and slowly chewed, feeling a little better already, knowing both you and Thor went out of your way to make him feel better.

Then Thor walked passed with you swung over his shoulder. “Put me down!” You hissed. “Oh Loki you’re awake! Please save me!”

“No, she’s mine!” Thor yelled, running off.

“Loki help!”

Loki found himself smiling. If you were asking for help, maybe you didn’t fear him after all. “Thor unhand the fair maiden!” Loki shouted, setting down the half-eaten cookie and running after him, dagger in hand.

“Loki!”

Loki tackled Thor then decided to take the chance. He took you bridal style and walked away.

You smiled letting your head fall on his chest. “Thank you, Loki.” Loki found himself blushing at your words and took you to his room, setting you on the bed. He sat next to you, offering a lopsided smile.

That smile made your heart swell and you smiled back. “I’m here,” you whispered, squeezing his hand.

And just like that, a sliver of dread coiled on his stomach. His expression fell and he felt tears threatening to return.

Just as he was sure he’d break down in another wave, he felt something wrap around him. He looked down to see you holding him close. “I’m here, I’m willing to listen if you need it.”

Then, Loki’s phone buzzed. Loki put one arm around you and picked up his phone with the other. He clicked on the message from Thor, watching the video with the volume of. He watched with a straight face as you left the cookies. A small smile adorned his face when you put the blanket on him. Then shock when you kissed him. He looked down at you as you continued to stay with your arms wrapped around his middle.

Loki smiled. “Y/n…”

You looked up. “What is it?”

“You really aren’t afraid of me?”

“What?”

Loki frowned. “Y-that book you were reading… aren’t you… don’t I scare you?”

You sighed. “Is this what was upsetting you?”

Loki nodded, tears collecting in his eyes.

You put your arms around his neck. “Loki, the past doesn’t define who you are today…”

Loki smiled.

“Though I am curious as to how accurate that book is…”

He raised a brow.

“Are you really a giant?”

Loki’s face lost its color. “I-I…” he sighed. “Yes…”

You looked up at him, placing your hands on his cheeks. “C-can I see?”

Loki hesitated for a moment before allowing his skin to slowly change to blue and his eyes to turn red. He expected you to cower. But instead, you slowly traced the designs on his body, stopping at the collar of his button-up shirt.

Loki hesitated for a moment before slowly unbuttoning the shirt.

You stared at this muscular chest as your cheeks heated up before you traced the outline of his abs.

Loki blushed at the realization that you were admiring his body.

You looked up at him and smiled. “Why would I ever fear this?”

Loki felt tears prick his eyes once more. Not tears of sadness but of relief. You didn’t see him as a monster.

You put your arms around him before shivering. “L-Loki your c-cold as ice…” Loki frowned, noticing Thor in the doorway.

Thor smiled, winked, shoved an entire cookie in his mouth, and walked off.

Loki hesitated for a second before placing a kiss on the top of your head. “I love you…”

You looked up at him and smiled softly, pulling his blue head closer and placing your lips on his.

Loki turned back into his Asgardian form and you moaned from contentment, he was warm now.

Fifteen minutes later, you were asleep at Loki’s side. A smile on your face.

When you woke, you found Thor had posted a picture of you asleep on Loki’s chest in the avenger’s group chat with the caption. “Took these two long enough” underneath.

Loki fumed for a moment, sighed, and tossed the phone on the carpet. “I’ll get for that later but as for now…” he looked at you with a smirk before pulling you closer and placing his lips on yours. “For now I’m content…” he mumbled, holding you in his arms and closing his eyes.

pt2?

#@Keene200213 #@jiyascepter #@jp-716 #@lesbpotmurdocklokistan #@firelightinferno #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki #loki odinson #thor #thor odinson #thor god of thunder #loki god of mischief #x reader #kat651 #marvel #@aresthelostboy #@your-setting-lotion

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number-onekidqueen · 3 months

Text

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐝

Part Two Part One

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

Comforting angst

warnings: character death, depression, lots of crying.

Days passed, days since your ki- hang out with Luke.

Hang out? Who were you kidding? It was clear it wasn’t him.

But you’d laid yourself bare to him, been about to confess all your feelings and he had just shut you down and run away.

Of course you didn’t wanna talk about it in the morning.

The tragedy was he did.

And just when you were feeling better, and your conversations weren’t so awkward, fate tossed you to the ground again, as it often did. You still didn’t really believe it.

Cecilia, your cabin counsellor, your beloved older sister had died on the road to college. It seemed impossible.

Of course, they’d had a brief ceremony, a burning of a golden yellow shroud weaved with her own fingers. And then they’d appointed you as cabin counsellor, announced a bunch of new kids had arrived and everyone forgot.

It made you sick to think people would forget Cecilia. That the three Apollo kids your cabin had greeted would grow up without her and never know of her presence.

Obviously, your cabin was upset, but they didn’t make it so as Aphrodite always did. The sun keeps shining, and Apollo kids kept going, laughing, training, even if muffled sobs could be heard the first few nights. They never talked of her, and after the first week, she was a sad little scar that had scabbed.

It still hurt a little, but the memory was what hurt the most.

Except for you. She was still a mortal, lethal wound for you. And it was getting harder and harder to keep your composure and pretend everything was okay.

Shortly, it all cracked and spilled out from you. It hadn’t been anyone’s fault really. Chiron was just trying to be supportive to little Will, but when he praised enthusiastically that he was the best archer he’d scene for 300 years, tears seemed to burst from you.

Because that had been Cecilia’s title. She had been the best archer, training all the little ones supportively and making people gasp with the precision of her shots.

It seemed Chiron had already forgotten. Everyone had.

It was like losing her all over again.

No one saw the little sun cracking on the archery field. They just noticed you disappearing behind some clouds.

You didn’t pay attention to the stares and whiplash glances of some, as you ran back to your cabin with tears streaming, and your heart in your throat.

Didn’t notice as a tall brunette boy on the sword plains spotted you, dropped his sword immediately and with a shouted apology behind him began to sprint after you.

Your bed was warm and comforting, the covers swaddled around your shoulders in a safe cocoon as you sobbed your heart and soul onto your pillow.

Cecelia was dead. Dead. This is what you would deal with every day for the rest of your life, she was dead and she would be replaced and forgotten and no one would even know her and-

The door creaked open and immediately you stilled, pretending to be asleep.

“Y/N?” It was Luke.

Not the timing, you thought to yourself miserably.

“Y-yeah,” you tried for a sleepy yawn, but it came out cracked and pained. Ugh.

“You ok?” He asked quietly, and you heard his footsteps approach.

“Yeah, yeah. Just woke up.” But your voice was hollow and very much awake.

He sat softly at the edge of your bed, and for a while you were both still. Only your breath was audible. Then, tentatively and slowly, you began to feel his warm fingers slide through your hair. It was so comforting and lovely that you had to swallow down the wave of tears that surfaced.

“It’s okay, you know,” he murmured, your hair in glorious tangles around his knuckles, “to cry. You don’t have to pretend. Especially for me.”

“Yeah, I know,” you whispered back, “it’s just-“ you hesitated.

I love you.

I don’t want to burden you with all my stupid problems.

“You probably don’t want to talk about this to anyone, right? Me included.” He guessed, and he began to retract his fingers and you felt like screaming at how utterly wrong he was. “I’m sorry, I should give you space.”

“No, you don’t have to. You can stay here.” You tried not to beg, but you were inches from clinging onto him to stop his departure. He understood.

“Would you like me to stay?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Then here I’m staying. In your bed.” He reassured comfortingly, “I mean, on.”

His flustered stuttering made you smile weakly and turn to face him.

His whole face softened, lost all his fluster and stress when your eyes met, but you were too busy setting your head into his lap so you faced up at him to notice.

He traced your tear tracks, brushing any remaining ones away with his thumbs.

“I know the pain feels awful,” he said suddenly, “but if you ever feel bad, like you can’t breathe or you’re about to burst, don’t keep it in y/n, come find me. I’m always here for you, always.”

“Thank you.” You said near inaudibly.

“I hate seeing you cry,” he confessed, his forehead crinkling, “or being sad. It just hurts me. But I love making you feel better, I’d do anything in the world to make you happy, I promise.”

“Thank you.” You said louder this time, your cheeks beginning to heat up.

It was a peaceful few seconds you gazed at each other, smiling. Then you closed your eyes, comforted.

You felt warm hands lift your body, and your eyes fluttered open. But it was just Luke lying down beside you and repositioning yourself on his chest.

“Sorry,” he murmured, “just figured we might be here for a while.”

His arms encircled you, and even in your drunken state of misery, your heart rate sped up. You turned your head slightly, so you could hide your bashful grin in the orange folds of his shirt. His chest was warm, comforting, and you could feel every deep breath he took.

“Sorry,” you murmured, facing up once more, “your shirt’s probably going to be all soggy after this.”

“I don’t mind a soggy shirt if it makes you happy.” He breathed, and your heart was bursting from the love that statement invoked when you saw his eyes flicker. Your eyes. Your mouth.

Could he really-

Surely not-

Eyes. Mouth.

The air was electric, as if Zeus himself was in the cabin. The space was getting tighter and smaller and everything was so close and dizzy and what in the gods before you knew it you were nose to nose and you could feel his warm breath and he was leaning down to kiss you against the pillow.

It might’ve been the best kiss you ever had. With salt on your tongue, and sweetness from his lips, the tastes of all your emotions were combined, giving way to the most passionate and fantastic kiss you’d ever had. Your head was pressed to the pillow, and he was moving above you, warm, soft and pouring his heart out to you, the gateway his lips. It seemed every single ‘I love you’ either of you had ever been too afraid to say was expressed strongly now, each drop of attraction and love and feeling was encapsulated between the movement of your lips.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay,” he breathed, against your lips, when you finally pulled apart, both of you panting, “I didn’t want to do anything while you were drunk. But of course I wanted to. I wanted you. I have for so long.”

“It’s okay. I have too,” and you laughed, all those emotions and secrets finally free. You were so giddy with joy! But Luke remained tense, nervous for a reason you couldn’t determine. You calmed down, scared it was all about to come crashing down.

“It’s- it’s not just that, y/n,” he paused, sitting up further away, eyes still looking profoundly into yours, “I love you. I love you, all of you, and you should know that to me you’ve never been a burden, only a miracle to have been with.”

Your breath was caught in your throat, blown away by his confession. You were expecting he might’ve been crushing on you? But loving you? You’d never dared to consider that as an option. And you were beyond thrilled.

“Now would be a great time to say anything,” he laughed nervously, fingers brushing over your shoulders restlessly. You immediately felt awful for keeping him waiting.

“I love you too.” You blurted, letting silence ensue. “You make me so happy every time you make a joke or take care of the new unclaimed kids. I’m just in shock.”

And then the pair of you were laughing together, foreheads pressed together before you were tangled in an embrace, that led to another heated kiss on your bed.

You knew soon other campers would arrive to see two head counselors kissing, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. In fact, while Luke’s like we’re on yours, you couldn’t seem to form any coherent thoughts at all.

In the back of your mind, you were still sobbing over Cecilia. Deeply, you knew you always would. Your heart would always be chipped in that way, the missing fragment forever in her fist as she wandered Elysium.

But you also knew how happy she would be to see you thriving, dating and loving Luke, a boy she had always suggested and approved of. She imagined her now, giggling in delight and grinning at what had transpired. And slowly, the pain began to lift.

Maybe a scar would be okay, as long as you loved and remembered it.

Most of all, you knew that for as long as you required a shoulder to make soggy, Luke would always be there to be your comfort person.

taglist:

@lifeonawhim

@sflame15-blog

@star611

I think this was all, if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just comment or message me :)

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thepastisalreadywritten · 2 months

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By Allison Pearson

23 March 2024

OH, NO. No. A sense that something was not right, that our wonderful Princess was perhaps in more trouble than we’d been told, was confirmed at 6pm on Friday with an unprecedented TV address that dealt a blow to the nation’s solar plexus.

Some will simply have been stunned by the news, hardly able to comprehend it (what, cancer twice in the Royal family within two months? But she’s so young).

Others will have been in tears, as I was, watching our Princess of Wales, parchment-pale, clearly fragile yet valiantly composing herself to record a message in that crystal-clear voice, reassuring us that, although it had been “an incredibly tough couple of months for our entire family,” she would be OK, given enough time, space and privacy.

One friend who heard it on the car radio pulled over to the side of the road and sobbed. “I am just so upset,” she texted.

Another confessed she was relieved that the Waleses hadn’t separated – one of the wilder rumours that had been flying around since the Princess of Wales was pictured in that photoshopped, too-smiley Mother’s Day picture without her wedding rings.

“For the backbone of Britain, we need those two to be together and happily married,” said my friend. So true.

William ’n’ Kate, Kate ’n’ William, a couple for almost the whole of their adult lives, one unimaginable without the other.

Our monarchy is assured as long as there is them (the Waleses will celebrate their thirteenth wedding anniversary on 29th April, six days after little Louis turns six).

Suddenly, with this announcement, we are reminded that they are only human too, vulnerable at times, and Britain is badly shaken.

As she finished her statement, the ramifications started to sink in. Prince William has to deal with a father and a wife with cancer at the same time.

There are haunting echoes of Diana, too, another beloved princess whose personal challenges played out so publicly.

Poor William must feel like there are snipers in the garden taking aim at his family.

You could tell the children were uppermost in her mind, just as they are for any parent who is told they have cancer.

George, Charlotte and Louis, she spoke their names aloud, her darlings. You know, I think they were the real reason she steeled herself to do it.

To sit there on that wooden bench with spring bursting out behind her. Daffodils on a grassy bank, trees in blossom – a cruelly lovely backdrop for such sad tidings.

How simply dressed she was in a matelot jumper and jeans, stripped of finery and clothed, instead, in a becoming humility, her beauty thrown into sharp relief by the strain on her face.

A 42-year-old who is uniquely privileged yet now confronts every woman’s frightening brush with mortality.

Her statement was carefully timed to coincide with the start of the school Easter holidays so the children could be safe at home and wouldn’t have to endure whispers in class about Mummy’s illness.

(Sparing them the agonies of embarrassment young William and Harry suffered at boarding school when Charles and Diana were getting divorced.)

It’s not easy to protect your children when their grandfather is the King and their father his heir.

The Prince and Princess of Wales have always been concerned to make things as normal, as Middleton, as possible, for their young family; this is their toughest test yet.

Was there more than a hint of rebuke in the Princess’s carefully measured words for a media that really has shown neither patience nor “understanding” since she disappeared from public view to have abdominal surgery?

She could be forgiven for being furious. (Believe me, many of us are furious on her behalf.)

“William and I have been doing everything we can to process and manage this privately for the sake of our young family,” she said pointedly.

“As you can imagine, this has taken time. It has taken me time to recover from major surgery in order to start my treatment.

But, most importantly, it has taken us time to explain everything to George, Charlotte and Louis in a way that is appropriate for them, and to reassure them that I am going to be OK.”

“Back off,” she was saying in the politest possible way, “leave me and my kids alone.”

Of course, she needed time to come to terms with the shattering blow of having a life-threatening illness and three children under 10. Every mother’s nightmare.

But time is one thing the vultures and conspiracy theorists were not prepared to give her.

In the vacuum Kensington Palace foolishly allowed to develop, the vilest rumours flourished.

Had she undergone cosmetic surgery? Wasn’t she just slacking? Why wasn’t William taking up more duties to relieve his sick father?

Had Catherine left William? Was it a lookalike pictured with William at a Windsor farm shop?

The gossip went global, causing universal hysteria.

Imagine feeling as sick and scared as the Princess must have done, yet being under pressure to show yourself in order to disprove the lies and appease the baying online mob. It’s barbaric.

I hope those who made such disgusting comments are burning with shame today now that we know the reason she hid away.

It wasn’t only ghouls with a conscience bypass who were trying to fill the gaps in the story.

Theories also came from people who adore the Royal family and were deeply worried for the absent Princess. We love and respect her so much.

Incredibly, in a poll earlier this month, the recuperating Princess still managed to emerge as the most popular royal, narrowly ahead of her husband.

Despite the slurry of accusations – not least the appalling claim in an early draft of a book by Omid Scobie (media snitch), that she was one of the two alleged “royal racists” who speculated on the baby’s likely skin colour – their figures are broadly unchanged since a previous poll in 2023.

Never Put a Foot Wrong is said so often it’s practically the definition of her.

Turns out there may be stresses and strains to appearing always in control, to aiming for perfection, that can eat away at a sensitive person not born to be royal.

Catherine says her job brings her joy; it must also have caused worry (such remorseless spotlight scrutiny).

We should reflect on that, I think. On what it’s reasonable to expect from one human being who expects so much of herself.

How the Princess came to win such a large place in British people’s hearts is better than any fairy tale.

Bullied at school, the quiet, sporty brunette was famous for her record-breaking high jump and tenacious character.

She had blossomed by the time she met William in their first term at St Andrew’s.

At 29, when they finally exchanged vows in Westminster Abbey, she was the first royal bride to have a university degree; the first to have lived with her husband before marriage; the first to be raised in a house that had a street number instead of a fancy name and a moat with swans.

As second in line to the throne, William was expected to pick his princess from a select group of well-bred young fillies.

Hot favourites included Davina Duckworth-Chad and one Isabella Amaryllis Charlotte Anstruther-Gough-Calthorpe.

Enough hyphens to make plain Catherine Middleton of Bucklebury, Berkshire, feel a little inadequate, you might think.

Except that, when a friend at university told Catherine how lucky she was to be going out with Prince William, a smiling Catherine replied: “He’s lucky to have me.”

The years have proved her right, haven’t they?

The death of Diana left William a damaged, stubborn and angry young man, acutely aware he was a prisoner of fate and railing at the media who pursued his mother.

Catherine has calmed him, rebuilding trust while providing the regular family life he had never known.

She has grown brilliantly into the role and the Waleses are a formidable team, lighting up any event they enter.

Now, it is his turn to soothe and calm her, although he must be deeply worried.

“Having William by my side is a great source of comfort and reassurance too, as is the love, support and kindness that has been shown by so many of you. It means so much to us both,” she said.

The King was right to salute his daughter-in-law for her courage. Imagine what it takes to first tell your small children you have cancer and then tell the whole world.

She did it so naturally, so sweetly, with such great empathy for others with that cruel disease that no one could possibly guess what it cost her. But it cost her.

She has told George, Charlotte and Louis that Mummy is well, and getting better, but the only way she will make a full recovery is if she’s left alone as she completes her treatment.

Will the vultures listen? Will they give her the time she needs or go back pecking for more?

Millions of us are praying for the return to health of our wonderful Princess of Wales. She has all our support and love.

A Britain without her is unthinkable, unbearable. Take your time, Princess, take your time.

💙🌹💙

#Princess of Wales #Catherine Princess of Wales #Catherine Middleton #Kate Middleton #British Royal Family #cancer #chemotherapy

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n1nicou · 3 months

Text

Loves wound, loves cure

pairings: dallas winston x reader

summary: dallas winston is a stubborn man, causing a fight between the two of you. but when you come to him all beaten, it seems like the fight has long left his mind, his only concern being you.

a.n: sorry i haven’t posted in three months, i had mid years and school is really eating my ass right now!!! 😀😀🤩🤩 (math and science can go fuck themselves!!!) anyway eat this up yall cause lord knows when im posting a new fic 😭

"fine! don’t want me to talk?" you shouted at dallas with an angry tone before getting up from the couch and making your way to your front door.

"where ya goin'?!" dallas said as he immediately shot up from the couch, seeing you move to the front door.

"we’ll talk when i feel like talkin'!" you said as you looked back at dallas with your eyebrows furrowed together. your was blood boiling with anger, but you couldn't ignore the hint of sadness deep inside your chest.

fights between you and dallas weren’t uncommon. when you did fight, it would always be over something stupid that would end with the both of you making up. dallas never said sorry, not with his pride and ego he did, but he found other ways to apologize to you. more subtle, but obvious enough for you to pick up on. however, tonight was a different story. you and dallas had been going on and on about something he had done.

you and dallas had been at the dingo all night, which was fun for the first few hours until some broad thought it was a good idea to try and sweet talk dallas, which you obviously did not enjoy. dallas, in his end, didn’t seem to mind the lousy and annoying flirtatious comments the girl made. not that he condoned to the girl's advances or try to flirt back with her, but the occasional smirk would appear on his face which only encouraged the girl to continue.

you watched as the scene unfolded, your eyebrows furrowed together when you noticed that dallas wasn't rejecting her advances. you knew dallas liked to have his fun, tease and bother girls, but not initiating anything as you were his first real girlfriend, which was strange for him. so when you both came back to your place, after ignoring him the whole rest of the night and finally blowing up on him after he profusely kept asking you why you were acting like this, he didn’t really understand why you were so upset. to dallas, it was just harmless fun, he wouldn’t do anything with her.

so there you two were, arguing back and forth for a while before dallas’s anger got a hold of him and he yelled at you to shut up.

and this is exactly the way you found yourself in this situation, walking out of your house as you just weren't able to deal with dallas right now. as much as dallas protested, you ignored his words, your mind filled with anger and disappointment.

dallas laid down on the flimsy couch of the curtis home, a cigarette between his fingers. he tried his best to be mad at you, wondering what your damn problem was, but in the end, he couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit guilty.

the image of your angry but sad and upset face plaged dallas's mind, making him wonder if maybe he was too harsh with you. however, dallas's deep thinking was suddenly stopped when he heard the door of the curtis house slam open. dallas sat up from the couch and turned his head to the front door, expecting to see johnny coming to find refuge from his own house or a guy from the gang.

there you were, your lip busted open, your nose bleeding. open cuts and gashes trailed down from your forehead to your jaw. you were shaking violently as tears rolled down your cheeks, the saltiness burning your open wounds and broken sobs leaving your bleeding lips. with your blurry vision, you were able to see dallas, who you hadn’t expected to see at the curtis house.

dallas wasn’t sure who came up to whom first. whether you rushed to dallas first or he rushed to you first, it didn’t really matter, as dallas was now right in front of you, looking down at you with concern.

“jesus christ, the hell happened to you, y/n?!” dallas asked with an impatient and angry tone. despite his angry demeanor, dallas’s fingers reached to gently cup your chin.

you were in too much shock to even utter a single word. you looked up at dallas, eyes full of fear, as tears ran down you cheeks. you opened your mouth to try and speak, but all that came out were a few broken sobs and his name.

“d-dally…” you croaked out in a shaky voice. dallas felt his heart break at your pained voice. he soon understood that he wasn’t going to get anything out of you unless you calmed down first. dallas gently picked you up in his arms before placing you down on the flimsy leather couch. your hand tightly gripped his forearm, tears still running down your bruised and cut cheeks.

dallas thought that if he made one wrong move, you would shatter like glass. his rough and calloused hand gently cupped your cheek, looking right down at you.

"'s alright, dally's here... relax, sweet girl, i got you..." dallas whispered in a soft and gentle tone, such a gentle tone. the kind of tone he had never ever used on a single soul, not even on you before this. the kind of tone he wouldn't be caught dead using on anyone, anyone but you right now. he simply kept rubbing your cheek with his thumb, hoping that it would calm you down, as he didn't really know how to comfort someone in this situation. to be fair, dallas never really comforted many people in his life, so he tried to keep his approach gentle, not wanting to overwhelm you.

with the help of dallas's soft rubs on your cheek and gentle words, your adrenaline slowly started to dissipate. now, you could really feel all the pain from each and every bruise, gash and cut that was inflicted on you. your breaths slowed down and you slowly became more conscious of your surroundings.

"tell me what happened, sweet girl." dallas got straight to the point as soon as he noticed that you were more aware of everything now. he was itching to know who or what decided it was a good idea to hurt his girl like this.

it took you a few moments to collect your thoughts before you spoke up in a shaky tone. "i-i was walkin outside after our fight and-and this white mustang started tailing me..." dallas felt his stomach drop at your words. he didn’t need to hear the rest to get a clear thought in his head of what had happened, but he let you talk.

“i tried running or-or sum’ but they caught up to me… and i…” you tried to keep talking, but you felt as if a thorn bush was stuck in your throat, anything else other than sobs being unable to leave your mouth.

“shh, easy, y/n… ‘s alright… did they hurt you, sweet girl?” dallas asked. he already knew the answer, but he thought that maybe it would be easier if he helped you say it. you nodded your head yes before looking down at your lap, tears dripping down onto your jeans.

"fuckin' socs..." dallas felt his blood boil as you confirmed his suspicions. his fists clenched, knuckles turning white and nails digging into his palms as a strong feeling of rage took over his mind. he would kill whoever touched you, his girl, which he had made pretty clear to everyone.

but he held back, his only priority right now being you. he would deal with the unfortunate socs who thought it was a good idea to hurt you, later.

“i-im sorry, if i hadn’t been such a stubborn idiot, if i had just shut my trap like you said, none of this woulda happened…” you spoke up in your quiet and broken voice as you kept staring down at your lap. dallas immediately stopped you, tilting your head up so his eyes met yours. the guilt hit dallas like a truck. harder than ever now that were blaming yourself and excusing his behavior.

“that don’t matter anymore. it ain’t your fault, doll” the last thing on dallas’s mind was the fight you two had earlier and he didn’t want you thinking about it, nor did he want you blaming yourself for something someone else did to you. his rough fingers kept stroking your damp cheeks, feeling your whole body shake underneath his gentle touch.

"dal-dal, i'm so scared..." you croaked out as your grip on his forearm tightened. you were still in a lot of shock and pain, your body violently shaking.

dallas couldn't handle it anymore. he pulled you into his arms, bracing you with a gentle hug, afraid that if he held you any tighter, you would collapse. you tensed up in his arms, surprised at his actions, but you soon melted into his touch and buried your head into the side of his neck.

"shhh... you're safe, those fuckin' idiots are gone... s’alright sweet girl.." dallas tried to say in the most gentle tone possible, but you heard his anger slip through his comforting words.

nonetheless, you were shocked.

dallas winston, the dallas winston had you wrapped up in his arms, in a hold so so gentle as he shushed you softly. the words he said were comforting, sweet. something no single soul, not even yourself, had ever heard from this tuff, mean, violent greaser. the man who couldn't love anything, no one, was afraid to break you as he held you so delicately. slowly but surely, you felt your fear disappear. a sense of safety washed over you as he held you.

you knew you would be okay.

#the outsiders #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders fanfiction #dallas winston x y/n #dallas winston fanfic #dallas winston x reader #fanfic #dallas winston

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valleyof-goldenlilies · 5 months

Text

The Heartbreak of Christmas Eve - Modern! Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Your best friend shows up at your doorstep on Christmas Eve.

Pairing: Modern! Aegon Targaryen x AFAB! Reader

Warnings: profanity, angst, p in v, cockwarming

Word Count: 1.75k words

A/N: hoe hoe hoe! a very merry late Christmas and Happy New Year in advance from me to you :) ALL MY AEGON GIRLIES, THIS IS FOR YOU. he may be a train wreck, but we love him regardless. enjoy ;)

lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics !

The sound of knocking at your front door was not one you’ve been expecting this evening. You had plans to celebrate Christmas Eve and Christmas on your own, since your family was travelling this holiday season. Who could it be?

Your questions were answered when you saw a dishevelled looking Aegon at the door, a sheepish expression on his weary face, a night bag in his hands. “I…I didn’t know where else to go…”

Looking at him from head to toe, taking in his pitiful state, you sighed, opening the door a bit wider to let your best friend in. “Come on in.”

You ventured to the kitchen to make Aegon a mug of tea after locking the door, just in case he was drunk again. Walking over to the couch where Aegon had made himself comfortable on, you handed him the mug. “Here.”

Aegon took it with a grateful, watery smile. “Thanks. You’re the best.” You tried not to let the words get to you. To him, it had always never meant nothing, a natural reflex in his charismatic nature, but to you, it always meant everything. It was a stupid thing, having a crush on your gorgeous, smoking hot best friend, who was the dictionary definition of the word ‘playboy’.

Just then, you heard a sniffle, and you realised with concern that his eyes were red. “Hey, everything okay?” You asked softly.

Aegon sniffled again, looking like a lost child as he hunched over his mug of tea. “Jenna broke up with me.”

Jenna had been Aegon’s latest in a series of girlfriends, and the longest lasting one at that. They had been dating for eight months now, and Aegon had really cared for her, much to your heartache. But you accepted it, as you always have, burying your feelings under the sand yet again.

“I’m really sorry, pal,” you moved into give Aegon a hug, which he melted into. Soon, you could hear sobs eliciting from his throat, as he lamented, “Why does everyone I love always end up leaving me? Am I that loathsome?”

No; you’re not, you wanted to tell him. You wanted him to know that for the longest time, you’ve loved him, much more than as a friend, and that you would never leave him, no matter what. But you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him, knowing that he would never feel the same. And even if he did, he could never give you the stable, long term relationship that you wanted.

So you only patted his back softly, and comforted him as best as you could. “You’re not loathsome, Aegon. You’re my best friend.” And I love you. “I would always be by your side, no matter what.”

“You really mean it?” Your heart broke at Aegon’s small voice, and you pulled him into a tighter embrace. “Of course. Best friends forever, remember?”

There was a silence, and you thought Aegon hadn’t heard you, but he only let out a noisy sniffle and said lowly, “Yeah…best friends forever.”

The two of you held each other for a while, hearing the snow fall outside your window as you comforted the love of your life over his heartbreak, while your heart was breaking on the inside.

Because your apartment was small, it only had one bedroom, so Aegon had to crash with you in your bed. It was your usual arrangement, but tonight, Aegon just couldn’t sleep.

Shifting uncomfortably on the left side of the bed, Aegon turned to face you, wanting to talk to you, to do anything, but you had your back turned to him. Unbeknownst to your best friend, you were fighting your own demons, trying to console yourself for being upset over this. It was his fifth girlfriend already, and you had had to comfort him over so many things ever since you were kids, so why did this bother you so much?

Because you’re hopelessly in love with him, that’s what.

You let out a quiet huff of frustration, but the sudden weight of a warm hand across your waist made you tense up. Aegon had always been feely in his sleep, but this was not helping any of your thoughts right now.

“Aegon…?” You asked in a quiet voice, careful not to wake him if he was asleep. But then, you felt a hardness press between your asscheeks, and you stiffened. He was most definitely not asleep.

“Aegon-“ “Shh,” Aegon’s low rumble that always made your knees weak sliced through the air. You could feel his breath on your neck, as he nestled his head on your shoulder. “I just need to feel…something. Please.”

You swallowed, feeling humiliation creep up your cheeks, staining it red. “Are you serious?” Your voice was not quite your own, scratchy and fragile. You were tearing up. “Aegon, for years, I’ve stood by, being your best friend, caring for you, wanting you, loving you, never wanting for anything more because I fucking loved you, but this is how you treat me? As some rebound fuck to get over your ex?” Your voice was laced with hurt venom. “I can’t believe you.”

Aegon felt every single muscle in his body freeze as your words registered in his mind. You loved him. For so many years now.

Tears were streaming down your face by now, and you wanted to push Aegon away, but you were just so tired. So upset. You flinched when he wrapped his arm around your waist tighter. “Hey,” he said softly into your ear, making goosebumps rise up on your flesh. “Look at me.”

When you refused to turn around, Aegon sighed. He deserved as much, he supposed. “Hey, listen,” Aegon began tentatively. “I know I’m probably the world’s biggest asshole right now, and I probably will earn your eternal enmity after this, but…I love you.”

Shocked, you turned your head back slightly to face him, breath hitching as you felt his hot breath on your bare skin. “…you’re joking.”

Aegon smiled sadly, shaking his head. “I’ve never been more serious in my life. I know I’m the biggest fucking idiot ever for this, but I always buried my feelings and kept it a secret, because…” he hesitated. “Because I was worried you wouldn’t feel the same.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “If only I knew you had always felt this way, I would’ve said something. Why do I always ruin everything?”

A heavy silence enveloped the room, and Aegon felt his heart break as he heard you sniffle. You were crying because of him. Gods, he was just the biggest douche out there, wasn’t he?

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, stroking your hair gently, not knowing what else to do to comfort you. “I’m so sorry, love.”

Finally, you turned around, your cheeks stained with tears that were visible even in the dark. Aegon swallowed, feeling awful. He had probably just ruined your Christmas and your year. “Y/N-“

He was cut off by the press of your lips on his. Your lips were warm against him, soft and inviting and tasting of gingerbread, and Aegon, despite his initial shock, found himself returning the kiss, letting out a few grunts as his hands found your waist again. The both of you continued making out for a while, while Aegon continued wiping the tears from your eyes. He wanted you so badly. Gods, he always wanted you.

His hands slowly wandered down to your breasts, groping them, squeezing them gently, all while he continued kissing you. You moaned into his mouth as he did, making the bulge in his pants grow undeniably harder. Your hand went down to stoke his cock over his sweatpants, and he hissed into your mouth, making you smile slightly against his lips.

Gradually, your pants fell off, and Aegon’s did too, and you gasped as you felt him stretching out your pussy. You had wanted this for so long, and now you were finally experiencing it. It was still quite unbelievable.

Aegon groaned as he bottomed out in you, his grip on your waist tightening. You made to move your hips, but Aegon stilled your movements, whispering huskily into your ear. “Let’s just stay like this. I want to wake up like this, with you around me.”

A small shiver went through you at those words, and you nodded mutely, letting out a soft yawn. Aegon chuckled, brushing your hair away from your forehead and kissing you on the lips. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Aegon. And Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

Aegon General Taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @hc-geralt-23 @saay-karani @justrybca

let me know if you wish to be added to a general taglist for aegon related works or just my works in general in the comments below or through this form! :)

thank you for reading! if you liked it, likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! merry late xmas guys 😘

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ozzgin · 7 months

Note

Hihihi!!

This is incredibly random but

Dragon!S/O (I was thinking about my favorite character from a show!)

Let's say S/O is a dragon Hiding as a human in society since many think that Myths/Legends don't exist so

S/O doesn't bother flaunting that she's a dragon and just blends in with the other humans.

S/O is originally a (the long noodle) dragon but takes a human form she can also sometimes have her horns and tail pop out!

Coincidentally She's dating (Any Baki character!) And one day when she got really irritated or sad let's just say..

SHE TURNS INTO A HUMONGOUS FRICKIN DRAGON

Infront of the (Baki characters!!)

GASP

Your choice if you want the police or satellites to detect her massive dragon form!

(I apologize for this ask, I really went random and if you're on break I don't mind if you can't do it! Thank you for reading!)

I hope you’ll forgive the delay, I set some older requests aside on purpose because I thought they’d be great for October. I found the fantasy theme very fitting. Funnily enough, if you didn’t know, Baki x Dragon Maid is an actual thing and you’ll find multiple fanart works of it haha. Randomly remembered it when I read your request.

Baki Characters x Dragon! Significant Other

Featuring some of the Baki men reacting to their significant other suddenly turning into a dragon.

[Baki Masterlist]

Truly, how embarrassing. Hundreds of years of flawless concealment. Carefully and steadily learning the ways of humans until no one could ever suspect the slightest off detail. You’ve changed identities countless times, lived in many places, and each time your true nature has been kept out of reach. So why, in the name of ancient Gods, have you just forfeited your secrecy? Now of all times?

Of course, you already know the answer. Never through the long history in which you’ve walked this Earth has there been a more annoying creature. You glare at Yuujirou with your glossy reptilian orbs. Annoyingly persistent, but also unbearably strong. Your human form was not enough to go against him, and your pride and anger took over before you could carefully consider things.

So now you stand here, your long, scaly body overlapping several times as it circles the entire Underground Arena, with your head just below the high ceilings. Everyone has gone quiet and the red headed culprit can only follow suit, staring back with raised eyebrows.

“…(Y/N)?” You hear your boyfriend mutter in an attempt to break the insufferable silence, perhaps looking for some explanation or awaiting confirmation that they haven’t gone mad. You hadn’t planned to be seen like this, especially by your partner. The shame is too great, all eyes are on you. You lift your clawed hands to your snout, attempting to hide your features, and let out a prolonged cry.

Between your sobs and hiccups you feel a faint pressure on your tail. You look down and notice your boyfriend stroking along the harsh skin, reassuringly. “Come now. You can’t blame me for being surprised, but that’s no reason to be upset. There’s nothing wrong with this.”

If you boyfriend is…

Baki, he will follow your movements with a silly expression that you can’t read. His stare is making you squirm and your long body slithers around idly, almost like a fidget. There’s a smile plastered on his face, but he’s not saying much otherwise. His gaze is fixated on you. Your orbs dart around the Arena, trying to come up with an explanation. After a few huffs and puffs, you finally face him with scolding indignation. “I know it’s strange, but can you at least pretend not to gawk like this? Why do you look at me like that?” He seems taken aback by your reaction, but follows with a chuckle. “You’re right, sorry. I just thought you’re very cute like this.”

Chiharu, he’ll be way more enthusiastic than you would’ve anticipated. You’ve already heard the story of his back tattoo and the symbolism behind it. He’ll tell you that this is no coincidence, and perhaps his design idea was already a subconscious preparation for your arrival. He finds you very cool and every now and then he might even jokingly scare you just to see your tail and horns.

Jack, he won’t say much. He is obviously very shocked alright, but he’d rather not make a big deal out of it, especially after seeing your reaction and embarrassment. He’ll cough, look away, and stumble over his words in an attempt to let you know that he doesn’t care and it doesn’t change anything. As the reality settles in, he will occasionally look at your small form with a newfound amusement. To think this tiny human could make him look insignificant in size in an instant.

Retsu, he will immediately apologize for intruding on your privacy like this. Clearly this was meant to be a secret, and the unwilling exposure makes him feel like he just caught you naked out of the shower. He is a blushing mess as he attempts to diffuse the situation, promising that he’ll take care in keeping the others quiet. Once you calm down, he’ll sneak in a few glances because he can’t help his curiosity. You remind him of a Chinese dragon. Noble, royal and powerful.

Katsumi, he will be absolutely entertained by the whole ordeal. There’s not an ounce of fear in this man’s eyes. He’s laughing and clapping his hands in disbelief and surprise. “I know I always say you’re special to me, (Y/N), but you’ve really outdone yourself this time! I think it’s safe to assume you’re just special. Unless there’s other dragons casually roaming the city.” He hasn’t thought about that. You promise him there aren’t hidden dragons in his Dojo and he doesn’t have to worry about being overturned. And you don’t know if the children are going to be half dragon. You haven’t planned that far ahead.

Hanayama, he will just stare at you after his last statement. You gradually become more nervous, unsure how to respond. That’s it? The scales around your face are flushed with a red tint and in your anxiety, a blow of hot steam is released from your nostrils. Hanayama realizes your discomfort and his eyes widen. “Sorry, I kind of assumed you needed a moment to recollect yourself. I now see I only made it worse.” He slides his fogged up glasses along the bridge of his nose and hums. “I’ll guide the others outside and then we can talk, okay? Leave everything to me.”

#baki #baki the grappler #baki hanma #baki headcanons #baki x reader #chiharu shiba #shiba chiharu #jack hanma #kaiou retsu #retsu kaioh #katsumi orochi #orochi katsumi #hanayama kaoru #kaoru hanayama

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orphicdreamers-wp · 5 months

Text

Calgary — Ethan Edwards

Summary: You find yourself slipping into old habits and only know one person who can help you. The one person who won’t talk to you. So you turn to music

Content Warnings; Drug addiction, mentions of a previous overdose, angst, mentions of oxycodone.

Pairing; Ethan Edwards x Reader

Based on Calgary by Tate McRae

You stared at the bottle of oxycodone pills on the floor in front of you. You were sitting in the middle of your dorm room floor in tears. This past term had been overly stressful for you, you knew double majoring in criminal justice and political science wasn’t going to be easy for you but you were determined to turn your life around when you changed majors from visual communications. You’d changed your major once you were welcomed back to UMich following your overdose. You had been suspended for 4 months for not following the student conduct policy. You were graciously welcomed back the following academic year, you decided to turn your life around then.

Mostly because your overdose cost you everyone in your life’s trust and support. You also lost more friends than you would like to admit. You wanted to be upset about it but you knew it was your own fault for the ending of your friendships. The biggest loss would have to have been the fact that you lost all the friendships you had with the UMich hockey players. You had no contact with your best friend since you were 3. You felt guilty for him finding you, you felt worse for the words you said to him in the hospital.

You finally caught your breath and shoved you phone and the pill bottle in your pocket as you walked into your private bathroom in your dorm room. You placed your phone on the floor besides the toilet bowl and dialed Ethan’s number. Your heart clenched with every ring, but even more when his voice mail played, “It’s Ethan, don’t leave a message that’s what texts are for.” You sighed after the beep, “Hey Eth, I know I shouldn’t have called but I’m not doing too well. I’m alone in my dorm right now packing to head home for break. I found a bottle of pills. I won’t lie, I thought about taking them. I thought I had my shit my together. I can’t take these though they look tempting. I can’t do that to you guys again.” You let out a sob as you dumped the bottle into the toilet and flushed the toilet. “I miss you E. I’m really sorry.” You hung up as another wretched sob wracked through your body.

Ethan let out a yawn as he sat down at his locker and opened his skate bag and tucked his skates into them neatly. He changed in record time, Mark was going to his girlfriend’s house for the weekend so Ethan had their apartment all to himself, which meant blasting Phoebe Bridgers during his shower in peace. He was sliding his hoodie over his head when he felt his phone in his sweatpants pocket. He hadn’t checked it since he’d come off the ice after practice. Not that he was expecting anything but out of habit.

He slightly panicked when he saw he had a missed call and a voicemail from you. He connected his headphones before pressing play to be met with your sad voice, “I found some pills.” Ethan’s heart rate spiked, he couldn’t lose you again, “I didn’t take any, I miss you E.” He had to sit down in order to not lose his balance. She didn’t take any, she’s okay. That was what Ethan was repeating to himself the entire drive back to his apartment.

—

A good 8 months had passed since you left Ethan that sad sob story on his voicemail. You took a 90 day leave from UMich and admitted yourself into a rehabilitation program. You also started NA and AA immediately after leaving the program. You returned to school and made the deans list and you had taken up songwriting. You also changed majors again to Entrepreneurship and opened a coffee shop.cYou still had a lot of forgiveness to ask for, but you were mending a lot of broken relationships. You hadn’t had any contact with Ethan or anyone you knew around that time. Currently you sat on a barstool holding a acoustic guitar in your coffee shop off of campus. You had expected to see Ethan around campus and in classes, definitely not here and definitely not with a handful of other UMich hockey players.

You tore your eyes away from him and adjusted the microphone in front of you, “Hi guys.” The usual Thursday night crowd, who all had their stories and songs or poems they shared greeted you back. You cleared your throat, “For anyone who doesn’t know how this works. Welcome to Thursday Tunes here at Blessing UnDisguised. I am the owner of the coffee shop and my name is Y/N and I am a recovering alcoholic and addict. I opened this place as I like to call it around 3 months ago. I had my struggles with my recovery and wanted to give myself and others a safe place. And many of my regular costumers here know I write music now, so I have a song I’d like to share if you don’t mind.”

Your eyes held a glimmer Ethan hadn’t seen in years and it almost brought tears to his eyes. He hadn’t heard from you or seen you since before you left him that voicemail. He didn’t reach out, mainly because he didn’t want to hurt you by not being what you needed. But in this moment he could see you had finally gotten the help and stability you needed. A proud smile formed on his face as you tuned your guitar, “Okay so some backstory to this song, I wrote this about 8 months ago. I wrote this while I laid on the floor on my room in rehab. I had realized the night before that I still needed help. Admittedly I called my ex and dumped some of my problems on him. Which I shouldn’t have done. But I checked myself into rehab the next day. I wrote this about a time in my life where I didn’t have anyone because I had drugs. I’ve struggled with drug use since I was 15 years old. I’m now 21, as of 2 days ago. So here’s a song I wrote about being 20 and just feeling alone.”

Same bar, same street. I’m 20 but I still feel 15. Sane fears, same dreams. Still tryna get my brother to like me. You said I always seemed to land on my feet. But I got problems hanging like a chain around my neck. Trying but I’m barely seeing past 23. And the best of me, right now, is lookin a lot like a mess.

I thought I had my shit together. Can’t lie the pills are looking tempting. I thought I was hettting better. No I got better at pretendin.

Old friends, downtown. They didn’t like me then and don’t like me now. Im drunk, oh, wow. My old habits came back around. ‘I’ll figure it out’ that’s what I say. Figure it out and take a break. I’ll figure it out, maybe one day.

I’ll finally get my shit together. Can’t lie, the pills are looking tempting. I thought that I was getting better, no I got better at pretendin.

And I do it again. I’m a creature of habit. The moments gone but I’m still tryna catch it. Everyone left and I never got past in. Never got past it. Same bar, same street. I’m 20 but I still feel 15.”

Ethan felt a pang of sadness in his chest upon hearing his own words he’d used against you in the hospital after you overdosed. Something that stuck with him for a day, but had stuck with you for a year. He felt guilt for abandoning you when you needed him. Mark felt the guilt in his stomach, you’d tried to stay in touch with him, shooting him congratulations messages when they won games, liking his instagram posts and congratulating him on his engagement to his long time girlfriend Zoe. But he ignored you.

You exited the small stage and went behind the stack of books acting as a divider between the customers and workers. You bend down to grab a bottle of water from the cooler and when you stood back up, you were met face to face with Ethan, Mark and a few other players. You felt like crying when you saw the way they were looking at you, “So what do you think? You guys like Blessings UnDisguised or what?” Mark smiled, “It’s beautiful Y/N.” Seamus Casey and Rutger McGroaty were too engrossed in the hockey posters on the walls to reply. Zoe and a red headed girl you knew to be Luca’s girlfriend were flipping through the box of old love letters in the middle of the room to reply.

Ethan stood in front of you with an unreadable expression on his face, “You used it as decor? Here?” He was staring directly behind you. There were two(awfully made) pottery cups on a shelf behind you. They held tea bags and sugar packets. You and Ethan had made them at some pottery shop on a date your freshman year of college. You looked at him, “You always told me I’d find my calling and be amazing. I guess sometimes I still need a reminder.” Ethan smiled, “I’m really proud of you Y/N.” You smiled, “Thanks E. I’m really happy now. I’m proud of you too.”

#ethan edwards #Ethan edwards hockey #umich hockey #umich imagine #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa #hockey player x reader #rutger mcgroarty #seamus casey

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thefreakandthehair · 8 months

Text

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 4th: Rejection | Arsonist’s Lullaby - Hozier | Lost a/n: pre-steddie post-s4, angst with soft, happy ending because I'm a marshmallow. un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to series on ao3

All Eddie Munson has ever wanted to do is play music.

That’s it. There are other hobbies, of course, other things that bring him joy– D&D, fantasy novels, art– but ever since he was a kid, whenever a teacher would ask what he wants to be when he grows up, it’s always the same answer.

I wanna play music.

As a kid, it seems less daunting. He just has to practice, he just has to play, he just has to have the passion to make it big. To be the next Kirk Hammett, or Eddie Van Halen, or Ozzy Osbourne if he can teach himself to carry a tune.

Making friends is hard, but he manages to find a few in middle school who can play the instruments he can’t– drums, bass. Eddie takes the role of frontman, not exactly a singer still but he’s charismatic enough to get away with it at their school talent show.

High school comes, and Corroded Coffin is revamped. New vibe, new members. He’s older now, a little more jaded with each rejection.

No one wants their EP, recorded by hand in Gareth’s garage onto cheap cassette tapes.

No venue will let them play, and Eddie knows that it’s probably because they’re in high school but hadn’t The Cure started in high school?

No one believes in them, trying to push them– especially Eddie– to consider more successful careers, safer paths.

But eventually, they book a regular gig at The Hideout and Eddie’s certain this is it. This is their big break. Until they play week after week, staring at the same five plastered faces every Tuesday. If they can prove themselves though, the owner will have to let them play on a Friday or Saturday.

He never does.

The final nail in the proverbial coffin comes after Eddie’s final senior year. Being accused of murder should have beefed up his credibility if nothing else– he’s already been traumatized, terrorized, and hunted like a goddamn dog, nevermind almost killed via hoard of angry mutant bats. Surely, he’ll catch at least one break.

And then the owner at The Hideout tells him he can’t play there anymore.

The hoards of people who still blame him for Chrissy Cunningham’s death are too much for him to manage himself and, in his words, Eddie’s driving away good business. His heart shatters, his breath catches, and Eddie leaves without a word because if he were to try to speak, all that would come out is either an enraged scream or a choked sob and Eddie doesn’t want to risk either.

He drives around aimlessly for an unknown amount of time, just circles around the outskirts of Hawkins. Maybe I’ll just leave, he thinks. Indianapolis might be far enough. Maybe Chicago. Fuck it, maybe Argyle and Jonathan can put me up for awhile in California. Eddie wants to go somewhere that makes him forget just how lost he is, how unwanted and forgotten he’s become. Being the social pariah is only fun when he’s making speeches on cafeteria tables, not when it boots him out of his one and only career path.

Somehow, he ends up in Loch Nora. He can’t face Wayne right now, he doesn’t want to bother Robin or Nancy, he’s already let Jeff, Gareth, and Freak down in the worst way imaginable, and if he goes to his mom’s or Chrissy’s tombstones with one more sob story, he’s afraid they’ll start haunting him. Steve’s become a friend over the last year or so it makes sense. Process of elimination and all of that.

He doesn’t have the mental bandwidth to realize that he’d started driving that way before he ruled everyone else out.

Steve welcomes him like he always does and offers him a beer, sitting with him in companionable silence on the couch as they watch Monty Python and The Holy Grail and laugh at the same parts. Eddie knows Steve can see that he’s upset but instead of asking questions Eddie isn’t ready to answer, he just sits a little closer with their thighs touching and one arm strewn over the back of the couch, just barely grazing Eddie’s shoulder.

The movie ends and Steve moves to switch the tape when Eddie finally speaks up.

“The Hideout kicked us out. Can’t play there anymore.”

Eddie sees Steve freeze from behind before turning, his eyebrows knitted together above his nose. “Are you fucking serious?”

He nods and sighs, lifting one hand to chew on this thumbnail as he looks at the wall beyond Steve.

“That’s bullshit, dude. Why? Because of the protestors or whatever?”

He nods again.

“Want me to go down there? I’ve still got my bat around here somewhere. It might be nice to swing at something that’s not trying to like, eat me.”

Eddie huffs a small laugh through his nose and meets Steve’s eyes, their righteous anger blending with his own as he sees Steve cross his arms over his chest. It’s hard not to stare.

“Well, then at least I wouldn’t be the only guy in this town wanted for murder.”

Steve shakes his head and just chooses another movie, Howard the Duck this time, before returning to his spot on the couch. It’s one of Eddie’s favorite movies but he can’t focus to save his life because Steve is even closer now, his arm draped fully across Eddie’s shoulders and creating a space for Eddie to easily just… rest. So he does.

The title sequence starts and Eddie’s head drops to the side, resting on Steve’s shoulder. It’s one of his favorites but he can’t follow the plot to save his life. All he can focus on is the way Steve’s fingers trace symptoms and shapes against the cotton of his tee shirt, and the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the feeling of Steve’s head leaning against the top of his.

“I had a new song and everything,” Eddie whispers, surprising both himself and Steve.

Steve hums and tightens his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, a ghost of a hug. “Play it for me sometime?”

All Eddie Munson has ever wanted to do is play music. And maybe he still can.

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feelingf1 · 10 months

Text

reunited - charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x female reader

summary: charles was the boy next door for a lot of your childhood, that was until he left one day without saying goodbye. you decide to go to the Monaco gp, but will he recognize you?

authors note: this sounded way better in my head, but i wanted to post something since I haven’t in a while.

enjoy!

—————

17 Years Ago:

You rushed down the stairs as fast as your little feet could carry you, grabbing your coat off the hook as you reached the bottom. You had spent all day watching out of your window, waiting for Charles, your next door neighbor and best friend, to come home from his week-long trip to Spain.

“Mama, Charles is home! Can I go see him?” You called out to your mother, who was tidying the kitchen. She smiled softly at you. “I don’t know love, they’ve had a long day full of traveling, they’re probably tired.”

You weren’t going to give up that easily. “But Mama, Charles said I could go see him as soon as he came home. Please? I haven’t seen him in like years.” Your mother shook her head, laughing. “Okay, you can go. But if Pascale is not in the mood to have you over, come right back. Okay?”

You ran over to your mother and hugged her leg tight. “Yes, thanks Mama.” and you practically sprinted out the door, not stopping until you rang Charles’ doorbell.

Pascale opened the door and called up the stairs for Charles to come down. “Y/N, I missed you.” he screamed and hugged you tightly. You returned the hug, grinning from ear to ear. “I missed you too. Where did you go?”

“I went to a karting race in Spain, and I nearly won.” The pride was extremely visible across his face as he held out the photos that his older brother, Lorenzo, took whilst he was driving.

“I got a silver medal, come and see.” The two of you joined hands, sprinting up the steps into Charles’ bedroom. He held out the medal and you took it into your hands.

“Charlie, this is so cool! You’re going to be the best driver ever when you’re older.” He smiled, “I hope so. I really want to driver for Ferrari when I’m older.”

You felt your heart drop a bit after hearing this. You thought that the two of you would live on the Monaco coast forever, like you had promised.

“But Charlie, Ferrari is in Italy, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“But then we wouldn’t live together here.”

“I can live here too, or you can move to Italy with me. Don’t worry Y/N, I will never leave you.”

You looked up at him, “Promise?” He nodded, “Promise.” “Okay good.” you said, “You can’t break a promise.”

“I won’t. Now come here and look at the photos of the beach.” He said as he grabbed your hand and jumped onto the bed with you, photos flying everywhere.

a few months later

As the bus dropped you off at your gate, you sprinted towards the door, rushing to ask your mother for permission to go and see Charles. He hadn’t been in school all week, but it was wintertime, and you’d just assumed he was sick.

You rushed into the kitchen. “Mama, can I-”

You met your mother sitting at the kitchen table, with a sad smile on her face. “Y/N, come sit, we have to talk.”

You threw your bag on the floor and sat into the chair, your mother looked very upset, which worried you as she was normally an extremely happy and bright person.

“Pascale called me this morning Y/N. She had to move back to her home in Italy, her parents are very sick and she needs to help them out.”

You felt upset, Pascale was practically your second mother, but you were happy that you still had Charles.

“That’s sad, but at least Charlie is still here.”

Your mother reached out and grabbed your hand, stroking it softly. “No, Y/N. Pascale took Charles, Arthur and Lorenzo with her. They all moved to Italy.”

You burst into tears. You couldn’t believe that you had lost your best friend, and he didn’t even get to say goodbye.

“But Mama.” You cried, through sobs. “Why didn’t he say goodbye?”

A tear rolled down her cheek, she hated seeing you so upset. “It was so sudden Y/N. She didn’t tell Charles or Arthur because she didn’t want to make you all sad. But don’t worry, Pascale said that he’ll write letters to you and maybe come visit you, okay?”

You crawled into your mother’s lap, still sobbing into her soft jumper. “I didn’t want him to go. He promised he’d never leave me Mama.”

“I know pet, but this was something nobody can control.” She said, stroking your hair. “Come on, let’s watch a movie to make you feel better.”

She wrapped you up in your arms and carried you to the living room.

“I can’t wait to get his letters Mama. They’ll be so exciting.”

You waited day after day, but the letters never came.

17 Years Later:

You grabbed the white blazer that was hanging in your wardrobe and put it on with a green top underneath. Today you were going to the Monaco GP with your two best friends, who had managed to get their hands on paddock passes.

As you curled your hair and did your makeup, you couldn’t help but think about Charles. He wasn’t just your home hero, but your childhood best friend, who you still sorely missed many years later.

You tried everything to reach out to him, sending him messages, letters, posting tweets, absolutely everything, but he probably just thought you were another crazy fan, which broke your heart.

Your friends entered your room. “Ready to go?”

You nodded, grabbing your bag from your table.

The atmosphere at the race was incredible as always. This was the first year though that you weren’t watching from a balcony at your friends house, you were actually in the paddock, and it was incredible.

“So, are you gonna try and speak to Charles?” One of your friends asked, knowing the history between you two.

“No, no. He won’t remember me, and he’ll probably think I’m just some lunatic or something.” It hurt you to say it, but you knew it was true. Charles was driving for Ferrari, there’s no way that his childhood best friend was still on his mind.

You headed to the bar and got a couple of drinks, before heading to the paddock to see all of the garages of the drivers. It felt so surreal, seeing all of this in real life.

As you walked down the paddock with your friends, you managed to grab pictures with a few of the drivers, until you headed down to the Ferrari garage and saw him, you saw Charles.

Your friends nudged you, encouraging you to even just say hi. You felt nerves and panic rise in your chest, but pushed them down and did it anyways.

You smiled broadly and waved. “Hi Charles!” You called out to him. He looked at you, returning a thin-lipped smile and a wave and continued on his way, stopping for photos and autographs, but not stopping to turn back around for you.

That was it. He had forgotten you. You knew it was a high possibility he wouldn’t remember you, but that didn’t stop you from hoping for a fairytale story, where he’d remember you, swoop you into his arms, and apologize for everything. Instead you were hit with the reality, and that caused tears to stream down your cheeks.

Your friends grabbed your arms and led you out of the paddock and towards your seats. You still cheered Charles on, after all, he was your home hero, even after what just happened. At the end of the race, Charles finished P2, and the whole crowd, including you, erupted in cheers, even if you were tired and heartbroken.

Your friends turned to you. “So, are you coming to watch the music acts?” You were a sucker for concerts, but the thought of wrapping yourself up in your bedsheets feeling heartbroken was much more appealing.

“No, but please, you guys go. I’ll be fine.” You hugged them goodbye and headed home to your apartment overlooking the coast. You threw off your clothes, climbing into a hoodie and joggers, not even having the energy to take your makeup off. You curled into bed, staring at the photos on your wall, when your eyes landed on one in particular.

It was a photo of your 8th birthday. You were wearing a pink princess dress, and Charles was stood beside you, wrapping his arms around you. There was chocolate cake smeared across both of your faces and you were laughing. You felt the tears starting again, wishing you could go back to those moments, wishing that Charles had kept his promise.

You were moments away from falling to sleep, when you heard your doorbell ring. You were originally going to ignore it, but the repeated ringing declared that this person wasn’t going away until you opened the door.

You headed to the door and your mouth fell open when you saw who was standing there.

“Charles?” You asked.

He stepped in without saying nothing and engulfed you into a hug, which you immediately returned. You started to sob into his jumper.

“I’ve missed you so much.” You managed to croak out. He held you out so he could look at your face.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for everything, for not recognizing you straight away, for leaving you all those years ago, for breaking our promise. I’m so sorry.”

You held your hand up to his face, cupping it gently. “It’s okay. You had to go. We couldn’t do anything to stop that. How did you find me?”

“I thought you looked really familiar when you waved at me earlier, it was playing on my mind all day. I seen your friends again and I asked them and they said that it was you. They told me you came hoping I would recognize you, and when I didn’t, it broke your heart, so I came right over.” Tears fell from his eyes too, which he tried to wipe away quickly.

You hugged him tight again. “I thought I’d never see you again. I’m so proud of you Charles, for achieving your dreams. I’ve followed you every step of the way, I want you to know that.” You whispered softly into his ear.

“Move in with me.” He said, out of nowhere.

“Huh?”

“Y/N, I mean it. I’ve found you now and I never want to let you go again. I don’t want to break our promise again either. Move in with me. Or I can move in with you here in Monaco, we can-”

You cut off his rambling. “Yes, yes I’ll move in with you Charlie. We’ll never lose each other again.”

You grinned at each other from ear to ear. This was it, your fairytale ending, and it was better than ever.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 imagine

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clementine-thedestroyer · 7 months

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Hello, *sigh* I keep upsetting myself with these made up situations in my head, I’m in need of some serious angst to fluff right now 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ (only if you want to write it of course🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️) a miguel x reader where reader’s in love with him and reader doesn’t want children, but assumes mig eventually does. Is already heartbroken and hasn’t even told him yet, they’re probably over, right? What if he finds another variant of Gabriella who needs a father? He’d obvi choose her 😵‍💫…….. 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ angst 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ to fluff please 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ happy endings only haha

Obvious conclusions - Miguel O’Hara x reader

Warnings/tags: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader. Reader does not want kids. Angst, fluff, mentions of breaking up. Miguel and reader are in an established relationship. Mostly what you would expect from this. Very hurt-comfort.

No, I didn’t scream over someone requesting something and actually wanting to read my writing- you did.

You had always assumed Miguel wanted kids. Because… well- obviously.

You’d walked in on him watching the old videos of him and Gabriella one to many times to just…write it off.

And- yeah. It got to you.

You love him. You love him so much. You’d move mountains for him, you’d do any and everything in your power for Miguel. This is the man you want to spend your life with…

And it was easy to forget that you couldn’t. It was easy to block out the dark voices in the back of your head reminding you that it would never work. It was easy to just love and be with him for a night.

But for every night you did, your guilt only grew.

You were misleading him- practically playing with him. you were going to break his heart. You knew he loved you too, you’d seen how he’d linger by the engagement bands any time you two were near a jewelry store.

Because one day, you’d have to tell him. One day, you’d have to tell him that you… just didn’t want kids.

Maybe he would end things right then- immediately. Or maybe it wouldn’t happen right away. Maybe he’d try to convince himself he was okay with it at first. But you knew that feeling- that dark, creeping sense of wrongness. You knew that it would build- slowly and steadily until it was too much. Until he’d finally break and tell you that he couldn’t just be okay and accept not having kids.

But either way, you’d have to tell him… and it was probably best to do before he got even more attached.

Of course, you’ve been saying that for the past two years, and it’s yet to happen. It’s easy to make excuses, and you have a lot of them… but they won’t last forever.

It all came to a head one particular summer’s night.

It had been a… rough day. Miguel had been working more than usual lately- and you had worked yourself into a bit of a fuss. It had all just- built up. And now you were face down on you and Miguel’s bed, sobbing your heart out as your mind ran wild- creating worse and worse possible reactions for when Miguel found out you didn’t want kids.

One of your friends had brought it up, actually. The two of you were talking over the phone, and they brought up you and Miguel having kids.

They weren’t trying- but their words had weighted heavy on you the entire rest of the call. When you two finally said good bye, you couldn’t do anything but collapse and sob.

Full-on ugly crying. Your pillow was soaked in tears, snot, and a bit of drool. You laid there and bawled, mourning the loss of a relationship you hadn’t even lost yet.

You hadn’t heard Miguel get home from work, you hadn’t heard him call for you as he set down his stuff, and you didn’t even hear when he tentatively cracked the bedroom door open. You only, finally, noticed his presence when he came up behind you and pulled you into a massive bear hug- his calm, soothing voice rumbling through you. “¿Amor, qué pasa?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to put up a fight and try to convince him everything was okay- the words “it’s nothing” died immediately on your lips. Because it wasn’t nothing. Miguel deserved to know- he deserved to know the truth and be allowed to move on- to move on to a woman who would happy to give him the children he so desperately wanted.

You took a second. Relishing in the love and warmth of being held in Miguel’s arms for possibly the last time. You wanted to freeze time on this moment- because you wanted anything but for Miguel to leave you, but you couldn’t keep… pretending that you wanted the same future he did.

“I-I don’t want kids!”

Once you started talking, you couldn’t stop. It was like a dam had burst inside you, and all the pent up pain was coming rushing out.

“I love you so much- I love you more than anything and I’m so sorry- I’m a liar- I led you on. I-I always knew you wanted kids, and I knew it would never work between us, but I never told you- I-I just let you assume that I wanted that too. I’m sorry Mig- I’m sorry! I-I couldn’t tell you! I didn’t know how! I-I wanted to keep you and pretend it would all work out!”

Miguel let you finish your break down, stroking your hair and holding your from behind as he listened to you lay your heart out bare for him. Once you finished, you were only crying harder. You were practically shaking in Miguel’s arm as he held you close. You were too choked up on your own tears to notice but, Miguel was looking a bit shocked.

“Sweetheart… first of all, I love you too. Second of all, where is all of this coming from?” He asked, his brow furrowed as he continued to stroke your hair.

You sniffle- coughing wetly as you choke on your own tears before managing to respond.

“I-I’ve seen you- watching t-those videos-“

Miguel cut you off, pulling you tighter against his chest and burying his face in the crook of your neck as he reassured you.

“The ones with Gabriella? Oh love… you thought I was gonna leave you if you didn’t want kids?”

You nod weakly- sniffling as Miguel continues.

“Of course not- if kids were non negotiable for me, I wouldn’t have gone nearly three years dating someone without even bringing the topic up!” - Miguel kissed you cheek, wiping away a few of your tears before nestling his face back into the crook of your neck and continuing- “I’m not going to leave you because you don’t want kids, sweetheart. Hell, I don’t even know if I want kids in the first place at all! ¡Estás trabajando sobre nada!”

“B-but Gabriella-”

Miguel once again cuts you off, giving you a quick squeeze and moving his hand to hold your waist- the other one still stroking your hair soothingly.

“But what? Gabriella isn’t my kid, and never was or will be. When I took her father’s place… it wasn’t just for her. It was what came with it… not being alone, being happy.” -Miguel pauses for a moment, swallowing thickly before continuing- “You know how all that ended… but that was a long time ago, and I’ve found that same happiness with you. I don’t need a kid to be happy- especially not if that kid doesn’t make you happy or would mean loosing the love of my life.”

You couldn’t help but feel shocked. You could hardly stop crying- let alone process what Miguel had just told you.

“Y-you…”

“Sí, amor. I’m staying right here.”

You squirm in Miguel’s arms, turning around so you were now laying on your side facing him- looking up into his loving eyes as he tried to wipe the tears from your face- only for you to bury your face into his chest and give one final sob. This time, one of relief.

Because your world wasn’t falling apart- because everything was going to be okay- because Miguel was here and holding you and he wasn’t gonna leave.

You feel his lips on the crown of your head- hear the sound of him pressing a kiss to your head as he strokes your back and holds you close.

“I love you.” He says, tugging the comforter over you two and making sure your head had a pillow beneath it.

“I-I love you too.” You respond- still hiding against Miguel’s warm chest.

“I want to talk to you about this a bit more later, just to make sure there’s no other misunderstandings or worries eating away at you, okay? But for now, how about we take a nap, alright?”

You sniffle, nodding weakly as the warmth of the heavy blanket and Miguel’s body pull a haze of drowsiness over your senses.

“I love you.” You say, mostly into Miguel’s chest rather than to him.

“I love you too.” He responds, gently petting your head once again as he presses yet another sweet kiss to it- cradling you against him tight as you doze off. As if, if he could hold you close enough, you’d be safe from all the doubts and worries he’d only just noticed that plagued you.

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