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#because I can count on one hand how many times she has ever hissed in her whole life
dreamywriter143 · 1 year
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Scorching Heat
Paring: Neteyam x Y/n (Reader)
Status/Type: Oneshot
Summary: Y/n usually insures she is away from home for ‘training’ whenever her heat cycle starts. She hates feeling needy, and never wants to burden her mate, Neteyam. What will happen when Ewya decides to bring her heat early this time. How will Y/n react?
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI (Minors STAY AWAY!!), Public/Exhibition (Someone sees Y/n during her heat), Dirty talk, Breeding (mentioned once), Fingering (f-receiving), dumbification, tiny bit of possessiveness and Ao’nung being a pervert. All characters are AGED-UP (19-20’s years).
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“Neteyam” Y/n whines, nuzzling her face into the mat she slept upon, she clutches her lower abdomen in pain. It felt hot, way to hot for what it should have been.
Ever since Neteyam had left their shared Marui for a his regular morning hunt with his Jake and Lo’ak, Y/n has been in agony. Her stomach lurched with butterflies as a unfamiliar heat took over her entire being.
She was sweating profusely, her breaths coming out in pants as she curled up in a fetal position. She couldn’t seem to figure out what had lead to her feeling this…sick?
Was it the clams she shared with Tsireya last night? Was it the yovo fruit she ate immediately after? Did those two different type of food not complainant each other like she had thought it’s had?
Y/n lets out a groan, feeling her stomach flutter, her eyes squeezed shut as she didn’t bother wiping the sweat off her face, she even couldn’t think straight. Her thoughts were muddled together and all she would focus on was the biting heat between her legs.
“Y/n?” A tiny voice calls peeking into the Marui.
Y/n almost missed it, it sounded so distant to her. As if her head were to be submerged under water. She opens her eyes slowly, her vision blurry with tears. She tries to respond back but a another pained whine escapes her lips as she claws at her stomach.
Tsireya gasps, seeing her best friend in this state. She rushes to her side looking her over, her cool hand laying on top of Y/n’s forehead, as she hisses at the cool temperature.
“Y/n , can you hear me? You’re burning up!” She says alarmed again, feeling the heat radiate off her.
Assessing her sweaty skin and pants that racked her friends body she realizes this was severe. Y/n was shivering as if she were cold, but she was sweating from how hot she felt internally. Y/n groans in response unable to form words.
“Dear Eywa” Tsireya whispers realizing what this had to be.
It was her heat.
Tsireya counts the days mentally to the last time Y/N had excused herself for a couple days worth of ‘training’. The time Y/n would spend far away from the safety of the village to wait out her heat. Training was the excuse she used to hide herself away from everyone, even her mate during her heat cycles. It wasn’t an uncommon practice, many other Na’vi females who didn’t want to burden their mates did the same.
Y/n loved her independence. Spending her heats alone was something she had argued with Neteyam over plenty of times. She just didn’t see the appeal of sucking her mate dry for her cycles, every month. Neteyam only allowed it because he would do the same, going far and wide to wait out his ruts in fear of hurting Y/n.
Thus leading to Y/n meticulously tracking all of her heats, planning for her excursions to the T. Planning and prepping ahead of time so she wouldn’t have to rush anything as she slotted enough time alone, out in the wilderness.
But this heat, it came unexpectedly. According to Tsireya’s calculations, Y/n was one week early. Which has never happened before.
“I-I’ll call mother!” She says standing up. Y/n gasps, she didn’t need the Tsahik, she didn’t need her friend. She just wanted Neteyam, she needed her mate.
“Ne-t-” she whispers, her voice shaky. Tsireya pauses, her shoulders tense.
“But Y/n-”
“Neteyam!!!!” She hisses loudly, sounding like a struggled moan.
She didn’t have time to feel embarrassed. She felt a deep itch with him her, an itch she knew her mate could fix. Tsireya flushes red at her friends state nodding.
She quickly leaves Y/n’s Marui heading to her own. She had a device that Lo’ak had given both her and Y/n in case of emergencies. She intended on calling Neteyam using her device.
~~~~
Ao’nung, who was walking towards Y/n’s Marui to pull her out for a swim stops the moment a scent fills his nostrils. He feels his irises dilate as he deeply inhaled the scent greedily.
He realized the scent was too delicious to ignore, he had to find out where it was coming from. He needed a taste. Coincidentally the scent leads him to Y/n’s Marui. The very girl he was looking for.
He walks in, holding back the growl that threatens to break through. The scent was so thick in the marui it drove him insane.
“Y/-Y/n?” he croaks, clutching the tiny bit of sanity he had in him. He looks her over, his best friend who he loved so dearly. He saw how she was face first into her mat, her bottom in the air as her back arches. She whines loudly hearing a voice, a voice that made her believe it was her mate.
“Neteyam” she breaths out lowly. The burning sensation seemed to intensify with arousal as she realized Neteyam had arrived to help her with her heat. Gasping she slowly rubs herself whist humping into the mat, moans leaving her mouth shamelessly.
She was beyond herself, she had lost herself to her heat. All she wanted now was a release, and to be taken care of. Ao’nung covers his nose, effectively muffling his whines of excitement. The position itself along with her grinding seem to send her scent off in waves, each wave getting stronger and stronger.
He felt his own erection painfully press against his loincloth. He wouldn’t be surprised if he came right then and there watching his friend hump herself to a climax she couldn’t reach. His other free hand reaches down to grab his thick hard cock through his loincloth, squeezing his member in attempt to relief himself of the pain.
“It’s Ao’nung” he says, loudly, still palming his cock to her moans. Each time her voice reaches a high note, he felt himself get that much closer to his own climax. He groans at the sight.
Y/N pants wildly, a part of her wondering why her mate hadn’t mounted her yet. She was in the perfect position to be taken advantage of, she presented herself in such way so Neteyam could fuck her to oblivion. She gently reaches behind in her hunched state, tugging her already soaked loincloth to the side. Exposing her treasure to the cool, but humid air.
The sight of her soaked pussy sent Ao’nung for a loop. His eyes roll back, his breathing is laboured as all he can see is how wet she is. How ready her pussy is for a cock. He saw how it glistened, how it twitched around nothing. Ao’nung groans loudly, biting his lips to contain his growls.
“F-fuckkk-”
Hearing him say something she is again clouded. She couldn’t seem to grasp Ao’nungs desperate attempt to tell her he was not Neteyam. Feeling his limit come closer and closer Ao’nung finally uncovers his nose. He begins to walk deeper into the marui, towards Y/n when he hears yells in the distance.
His ears twitch at the sound of Neteyam’s voice, which seem to snap him out of his trance. Taking one last deep inhale of her scent, Ao’nung takes a careful step back to create some distance. He lets go of his cock just as Neteyam bursts in through the entrance.
His eyes immediately land on his mate, who was still face first into the mat, revealing her glistening folds between her legs. Her essence ran down her legs, adding more delicious aroma into the air. Neteyam feels her need, smells her need. He was able to smell it a good few feet from the marui. His pupils dilated, his nose inhaling deeply to memorize the scent.
Realizing he’s not alone he turns to Ao’nung, his glare deadly. He bares his fangs and hisses harshly. Neteyam takes a step forward, pure rage overcoming his body. Ao’nung looks down, his ears flattening against his head.
“Ao’nung. Out, NOW!!” he says sternly, his chest rumbling with a threatening growl.
He tried his best to stay composed, for his sake as well as his mate. He was also aware that his father and Lo’ak were close behind him when he had rushed home. He didn’t want to create a bigger scene.
Y/n on the other hand, let out an unintentional mewl at the rough sound of his voice, still not being able to figure out who stood by the entrance.
Her tears of frustration clouded her vision, but she was able to pick up Neteyam’s scent. Her mates scent, which only caused her to moan pathetically. Desperately trying to gain his attention.
Ao’nung didn’t need to be told twice, he quickly ducks out of the Marui, his hands covering his still prominent bulge. He would have to deal with that privately, as he marches towards his marui. As soon as he is out, Neteyam rushes to Y/n’s side.
Her scent alone drove him insane, he felt his inner self want to drill into her at that very moment as his eyes lingered over her sopping pussy. Waiting to be filled. She looked to be so wet that he could have easily mounted her right away if her wanted to. But the logical part of him took over, at least for now.
“Yawne, shhhh, shhhhh. Are you alright? Should I fetch you some water?” He whispers, couching down beside her.
He gently brushes the hair from her face which caused her body to jolt wildly upon contact. The entire time Y/n had been edging herself, the mere touch of Neteyam’s fingers on her body sent over over the edge as her body trembled under his touch.
“Fu- I’m-“ Y/n couldn’t finish her sentence as her whole body convulsed under her much needed orgasm. Neteyam’s eyes widen, admiring the way her pussy twitched and clenched with the delicious aftershocks of the orgasm. Neteyam pulls her into his arms cooing softly, he cups her face into his palm.
“Oh babygirl, do you want me to help you with your heat baby? It must feel so painful….”
After the initial orgasm, Y/n had a few moments of clarity, registering Neteyam’s face. She noticed how dilated his irises were, how his breaths hitched and how his fingers danced around her hips enticingly. As if waiting for her to give him permission.
“Neteyam” Y/n whispers, her eyes still watery from the many tears she had already shed.
“I never want to bother you with my heat-“ Neteyam visibly frowns “-which is why I disappear from time to time…..but now-“ Y/n starts feeling the itch deep within her flare up again. More intense than before.
“-It’s….so painful……I need you to fuck me.” Y/n gasps. Neteyam smirks, his free hand trailing down. His fingers working on untying the soaked, useless lioncloth and tossing it aside. Neteyam leans his face closer to her, relishing the look of pure lust clouding her eyes.
“Oh baby girl, I’ll fuck you alright. I’ll make you feel so good you won’t forget the shape of my cock deep in your pussy” Neteyam growls, his fangs grazing over her neck sending shivers down her spine. His fingers spread her swollen wet folds, growling at the feeling of her slickness.
“So wet baby, all for me?” He murmurs quietly, taking in her scent.
“Hmmm”
Y/n’s eyes roll back, feeling two digits enter her pussy gently. The sting and stretch of the two fingers caused her body to twitch out of pleasure. It felt so good, so right.
“You let Ao’nung see this. See the pussy that belongs to me” Neteyam growls, his fingers pumping out of her slowly, but forcefully. Y/n moans in response. She hadn’t known if Ao’nung was here, she also didn’t know what Neteyam was talking about. But she opted to agree with him, to ensure he didn’t stop his movements by any means.
“I’ll fuck you just right baby, I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll be filled with my cum. I want Ao’nung to watch as MY cum drips down your legs” Neteyam whispers, curling his fingers just right.
Y/n whimpers at the sensation.
“Then do it—“ she chokes out.
“-Breed me until I’m plump with your child” Y/n mumbles deliriously.
She tries catching her breath, her heart beating wildly at the thought. Neteyam smirks wide at her plea. Feeling whatever logical part of him shatter at her words, he allowed her heat to fully engulf all of his senses. He was ready to give it his all, no holding back. He was going to fuck her till she forgot her name, he’d make sure of that.
“Anything for my baby girl”
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Note: This is my first ever smut! I’ve always wanted to write smut but I’m worried I’ll be horrible at it! This was a request from my friend so please let me know how you guys think! Was it good? Bad? Should I continue writing smut? Let me know!!
Also while I’m working on my main series: Nga Yawne Lu Oer , I’ll also be doing Prompts, Incorrect Quotes and Oneshots in between. Let me know if you have an requests!
Ps: Pt.2 is OUT. Please check it out!!
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sagesolsticewrites · 2 months
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religion's in your lips, the altar is my hips
in which Steve takes care of you after a bad day
- including but not limited to: praise kink, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), Steve lowkey being a service dom 👀
(this is. very self-indulgent. very veryyyyyy self-indulgent. you have been warned <3)
a/n: huuuge shoutout to @upsidedownwithsteve's (aka Emmy, Queen of Smutty Sunday <3) most recent smutty Sunday event for giving me inspiration to write my very first smutty fic! Obligatory disclaimer that yes, this is my very first smut fic ever, I am an ✨asexual virgin✨ please manage expectations accordingly, yada yada yada. Also so many hugs to my bestie Kenz @fangirl-imagines for looking this over before I posted it ☺️ Kenzie has some incredible fics, go support her y'all!
Word count: 2870
Warnings: THIS IS SMUT. MINORS BEGONE. 🔞
Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍
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You let yourself into your apartment with a sigh, shoulders relaxing the tiniest bit as you step over the threshold into your home and finally toe off your heels.
Bypassing the darkened kitchen and empty living room, you open the door to your bedroom, where you knew you’d find a shirtless Steve in the middle of his post-work ritual of playing some game on his computer.
He looks up as you enter, face brightening with a smile as he greets you.
“Hey baby, how was—”
In lieu of an answer, you flop face first onto the bed with a groan.
You can hear the smile fade from his voice as he hisses sympathetically, “That bad, huh?”
You lift your chin so it’s propped up on the pillow as you explain your terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.
“You know that project that Marie was working on? She asked me for help on it, and I gave her some pointers, but she said she still wasn’t really understanding it so I ended up having to do all of it for her. And she’ll probably take all the credit for it, too.” You grumble, rolling your eyes, “And we had that meeting with our new clients, and my boss basically volun-told me to take notes for it, even though that’s really the liason’s job, and then she criticized me for not taking as detailed notes as Lauren even though that’s literally Lauren’s job! And she was there, she could’ve taken the notes, I don’t even—”
You shake your head in exasperation, shifting topics, “And then I didn’t even have time for lunch because Sara wanted me to help train the interns, and…” You end your rant with a groan, letting your face drop back into the pillow. “‘M just. So tired.”
“Sweetheart…” Steve’s voice turns soft as the pillow underneath your head, and he gets up from his spot at the desk to climb onto the bed, pulling you into his arms.
You curl into him instinctively, your head finding that space in the crook of his neck that feels like it was made for you personally, one hand coming up to toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, tracing patterns along the freckles and moles dotted along his skin.
“What can I do to help, honey?” Your boyfriend asks, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
“Jus’ wanna… I dunno, just. Stop.” You mumble against his shoulder, shrugging and curling further into him.
He hums in understanding, grabbing the hand that’s currently drawing invisible hearts around the moles near his collarbone and pressing a kiss to the back of it.
“You’ve been doing so much for everyone today,” he murmurs, voice layered with understanding and adoration as he leans in and peppers tiny kisses over your forehead, your nose, your eyelids, and you relax even more as his voice washes over you, “Worked so hard.”
He pulls you closer, scattering kisses all over as you finally release all the tension you’ve been holding, letting out a sigh and shifting in his arms to face him. You don’t realize you’re straddling him until you’re pressed nearly flush against him, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.
His lips brush over every part of your face, down to your neck and then back up as you become putty in his hands, murmuring soft words of praise to you the whole time.
“You just need to stop working now, huh? Need to stop thinking,” His lips draw a path to your ear, where he whispers, “need to let someone else do all the work, huh, baby?”
A shiver runs down your spine, constantly in awe of the power just his voice has over you. His hand settles on your hip, a comforting, grounding weight while his other hand brushes a strand of hair back from your forehead. His lips work their way back down over your cheek, stopping to hover just over yours, mouths brushing together as he murmurs in a voice like silk, “Is that what you want, honey? Want me to take care of you?”
Warm chocolate eyes meet yours, soft, caring, always ensuring he has your consent before he does anything.
At your near-imperceptible nod, he drags his hand up to cup your chin, thumb dragging along your bottom lip.
“Need your words, pretty girl.”
“Yes,” you breathe, and that’s all the confirmation he needs to surge up and capture your lips with his.
As you brace yourself on his shoulders, his hands move to the thin strip of exposed skin where your shirt has ridden up. Your kisses become hungrier, ignoring your need for oxygen in favor of Steve’s plush, kiss-swollen lips, and he slowly drags up the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss briefly to get your permission.
At your eager nod, your shirt is off and tossed to some corner of the room, his mouth eagerly on yours once more.
You can feel exactly how much he’s enjoying this through his sweats, and you instinctively begin to rock in his lap, dragging your increasingly damp core over his.
His hands grip your hips, the familiar feeling sending a thrill through you… but rather than guiding your movements like he normally would, he holds them still.
You pull away, brow furrowed, but before you can voice your confusion, he flips you onto your back, moving to hover over you in one smooth movement.
“I told you,” he murmurs against your lips in a tone that sends a pulse of scorching heat to your core, “I’m doing all the work, sweetheart.”
The whimper you let out is muffled by his lips on yours once more, his wandering hands and hungry kisses making short work of turning you into a moaning, gasping mess.
“Steve,” you whine out his name as his lips travel down to your neck, and you can feel his smile against the hollow of your throat before he returns to licking and sucking dark patches into your skin, the occasional use of his teeth making delicious shivers shoot up your spine.
“What is it, sweetheart?” He mumbles against your skin, trailing his lips along your collarbone. His eyes meet yours, a mischievous twinkle mixed with the searing heat in them turning you molten as he asks, “What do you need?”
Unable to find the words, your hand finds his hair instead — God, that hair — and begins pushing him down towards where you really want him.
“‘M gettin’ there, honey, I promise,” he grins, pausing your efforts to press a kiss to the valley between your breasts, “Lemme take my time and I promise it’ll be worth it, ok?”
He reaches up to toy with the strap of your bra— a simple nude thing you could get away with wearing under a white shirt at work— a questioning look in his eyes answered by a furious nod from you.
He makes short work of the clasp, and that really should not be as hot as it is, but— oh who are you kidding, even his breathing is insanely hot right now.
You throw your head back as he presses kisses all over your chest, mumbling against your skin the whole time about how pretty you are, just gorgeous sweetheart, God, I can’t believe I get to do this for you…
Your head goes deliciously fuzzy with the praise, and you can’t quite form words so all you can do when he takes your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it for good measure, is let out a keening “Ohhh” and instinctively tighten your grip on his hair.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Steve groans, the noise sending heat racing through your body, and you grin knowing you were the one to elicit it, “You sound fucking incredible.” He murmurs more praise as he turns his attention to your other nipple, giving it just as much attention and eliciting more gasps and moans and whines from you before he continues his journey south.
You lift your head and watch as Steve Harrington fucking beams when he reaches your stomach, your pouch poking out slightly more than you’d like over the waistband of your jeans.
He meets your eyes, his own swimming with sincerity as he begins to scatter kisses over your midsection.
“You”
Kiss
“Are”
Kiss
“Fucking”
Kiss
“Stunning”
Kiss
When it seems like he’s covered every single inch of your exposed skin in kisses, remaining stubbornly focused on your torso when what you really want is for him to be significantly lower, he meets your eyes as he plays with the waistband of your jeans, once again wordlessly asking your permission.
And once again, your furious nodding is all the consent he needs to peel your jeans off and toss them away.
“Sweetheart.” He breathes, wide eyes on where your jeans once were, “Honey. Baby. Are you trying to kill me?” He says in a strangled voice at the sight of your simple lacy panties in a deep, wine-purple color— a color Steve once drunkenly confessed was his favorite, though he told anyone who asked he preferred red.
You bite your lip in an attempt to contain your grin, “I thought you might like those.”
“Like them?” He murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your inner thigh, looking up through lidded eyes to meet your gaze as his own darkens, “I never wanna see you in anything else again.”
Your toes curl, and your breaths become shallow in anticipation as he scatters slow kisses all along your inner thighs, carefully spreading them apart, stopping when he gets to the edge of the purple lace.
He holds your gaze, gauging your reaction as instead of pulling them down over your hips to toss to yet another corner of the room, he simply…
Pulls.
The lace.
To the side.
You barely have time to let out a quiet, shaky, “Oh my God,” at the ravenous look on Steve’s face before his mouth is on you and you forget how to think, you forget how to breathe, you forget everything except Steve.
Let it be known: Steve Harrington knew how to eat a girl out.
He licks a thick, fat stripe up your center, gathering the moisture collected there before darting up to flick at your clit, an action that has you gripping the sheets like a lifeline, a stuttering moan that sounds vaguely like your boyfriend’s name escaping from your lips. His arms hook around your thighs, pulling you close in an attempt to keep your hips grounded, and he continues a few more passes of the same lick, flick pattern until you’re a writhing mess underneath him, his current strategy both too much and not enough.
He pauses just long enough to meet your eyes, pressing a single kiss to your clit that sends a jolt of pleasure up your spine, before diving in.
His tongue finds your entrance with ease, the way his nose pushes through the thatch of wiry hair to nudge at your clit providing extra stimulation as he makes short work of making you fall apart. His tongue swirls through your folds as he lets out a languid moan at your taste.
“So fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart.” He mumbles against your core, “So perfect, lettin’ me take care of you. This is all you needed, huh?” His eyes flick up to meet yours as you shudder and moan underneath him, struggling to keep your eyes on him.
He licks another languid path through your folds, savoring your taste, before continuing, his voice muffled as he licks and sucks at your entrance “Jus’ needed me to give you a break, needed me to tell you it’s okay to turn off your brain and jus’—” Steve punctuates his last words by wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking gently “—be a good girl for me.”
The combination of stimulation to your clit and Steve’s words has your hips arching off the bed, despite your boyfriend’s best efforts to keep you still. You can feel him grin against you and let out a dark chuckle at the moan you let out at his last words in particular, the way your hand tightens and pulls at his hair all the evidence he needs.
Still, he asks you, though he doesn’t quite expect a coherent response.
“Aw, sweetheart. You like it when I call you a good girl? You like bein’ a good girl for me?” He purrs in a voice like syrup, lips still brushing your folds.
“Fuck, I— yes, Stevie,” you whine brokenly, gently gripping his hair in an attempt to bring him closer to where you want him, whimpering softly, “Stevie please.”
“I know, baby, I know,” he murmurs, scattering kisses frustratingly just outside your core, “Jus’ trust me, I gotcha.”
You resist the urge to move, to just grab him and put him where you want him, even as you let out a frustrated whine.
Just as your patience is about to run out, you feel him smirk against you before diving back in, holding your legs apart as he sloppily licks and sucks at your entrance, his tongue diving deep inside you.
You let out a gasping moan as he attacks your core, practically clawing at his hair in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer, your brain going fuzzy and then melting entirely when you hear the endless praise falling from his lips as he eats you out.
“So good for me sweetheart, just perfect— shit, do you have any idea how good you taste?” He groans against you, his thumb coming up to gently circle your clit as his other hand moves to splay flat over your hips, holding you as still as he can, “Could do this all fuckin’ day, god you’re amazing sweetheart—”
Then he clamps his lips around your clit and moans, and you’re fairly certain you’re going to die of pleasure, both your hands flying to grip his hair and yank as your back arches off the bed, your head falling back against the pillows, mouth open to let out a high, keening moan.
When you come back to your body, Steve is back to gently licking through your folds, and your hands claw at him, needing him to be closer.
“Steve,” you whine, “Stevie please, ‘m so close, I jus’— I need— please, baby.”
As your words turn into incoherent moans and pleas, Steve is quick to assure you, thumb returning to playing with your clit as he mumbles against you, “I know, honey, I know what you need and ‘m gonna give it to you, I promise. Been so good for me today, taken such good care of everyone, now it’s your turn, ‘m gonna make you feel so, so fuckin’ good, baby—”
He dives into you once more, thumb rhythmically circling your clit as his tongue hits every spot inside you in a pattern that has you turning to liquid underneath him, your legs hooking together behind his back to keep him right there, and your vision goes white as Steve brings you towards your release.
You let out a cry as you hit your climax, and Steve dutifully guides you through your orgasm, murmuring soft praises the whole time.
“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs as he pulls away, mouth glistening and pupils dilated wide. Your hand cards through his soft brown waves, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Steve brushes gentle kisses to your inner thigh, your hipbone, your stomach, following a path up to capture your lips with his own, swallowing the contented sigh you let out.
He pulls away, meeting your gaze with a smile as he pecks your nose.
“Feelin’ better?”
You hum contentedly, “Much.” Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek as you pointedly glance down, “What about you?”
Steve lets out a mock-annoyed groan, forehead coming down to rest on your shoulder.
“Baby, we just went over the whole thing about you not needing to take care of everyone.”
He lifts his head, meeting your gaze, “Seriously, though,” he presses a kiss to your cheek, rolling to lay next to you and pulling you into his chest, “I’m fine. This was about you, and I’m so glad I could help take care of you for once.”
You cup his cheek, turning his face to yours. You hope he can see every sincere, tender thought in your expression as you simply say, “Thank you.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart. You know that.” He murmurs in response, lips quirking up into a small smile as he turns to press a quick kiss to your palm.
“So,” he says, fingers stroking through your hair, nudging your eyes closed, “nap time and then appetizer dinner? We’ve got mozzarella sticks and some chicken tenders I can throw in the oven.”
You grin, despite already being half-asleep, “That sounds perfect.”
You can feel his smile as he presses a kiss to your forehead.
“I love you.”
“I love you more.”
“I love you most.”
“I love you infinity.”
“I love you infinity plus one”
“I love you—”
“Alright, let’s call it a tie, babe.”
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Tagging a couple friends! Hi besties @austin-butlers-gf @sassy-ahsoka-tano @dontbesussis
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dreamwritesimagines · 2 months
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The Eye of the Hurricane [7] - On Edge
A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️
Summary: New enemies can complicate everything.
Word Count: 3200
Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, drinking. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
Series Masterlist
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You had to admit; your therapist had many good ideas but this?
You weren't so sure this was one of those good ideas.
You pulled the souffle out of the oven and took a look at it, then grabbed a toothpick and put it through the center, only to pull it out completely dry.
“God damn it!” you exclaimed, putting it next to the other five failed attempts, and grabbed the bowl again. “This fucking…”
“What are you doing?”
Your head shot up and you looked over your shoulder. “What the—go away, why are you here?”
Bucky raised his brows.
“Hello to you too Charm,” he said, putting his hands into his pockets, his eyes darting around the kitchen. Even you had to admit that the sight of you in the kitchen was unfamiliar, considering that you barely knew how to make eggs but seeing him in your kitchen was equally strange. Your chef would normally be in the kitchen at this time but you were pretty sure he wasn’t here to see her.
“Who told you I was here?”
“The maid,” he said and motioned at the bowl you were holding. “What is this?”
“Why are you here?”
“I asked first.”
You heaved a sigh and put the bowl back on the counter, then crossed your arms.
“I’m baking,” you said as if there was nothing out of the ordinary with that statement, and Bucky frowned slightly.
“Why?” he asked. “What is this, your plan to play house with your civilian boyfriend?”
You rolled your eyes at him.
“My therapist seems to think it’s a good idea,” you said. “She says I should do things like these to relax my mind.”
“Right, you sounded very relaxed when I walked in.”
“It’s because these fucking souffles refuse to have chocolatey center!” you snapped and Bucky blinked a couple of times.
“You’ve never baked once in your life and you decided to start with one of the hardest things to bake in the world?”
“Go big or go home.”
“I’m right with you on that but when it comes to baking, people usually start with cookies.”
“I already baked cookies, they weren’t challenging enough,” you said, motioning at the plate on the kitchen island and he walked to it to get a cookie.
“Did you poison these?”
“Yeah,” you said and he shrugged, then took a bite of it, a look of surprise crossing his face as he chewed on it.
“This is actually good,” he said. “Is this cinnamon?”
“It’s arsenic,” you deadpanned and he nodded his head.
“You know, if you ever decide to go into it professionally, we can get you a bakery.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m serious, we’d put it in the neutral territory if it makes you feel any better, it could work—”
“Why are you here?” you cut him off and he popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth, then leaned back to the island.
“I’ve been summoned,” he said. “So has everyone else.”
Your eyes widened. “Everyone else? What do you mean, everyone else?”
“All the bosses in the city.”
“What the—why?” you asked, lowering your voice and he shot you a smirk.
“How long have you been here?”
“Bucky!” you hissed and he grabbed another cookie.
 “There’s been an attack.”
“An attack?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat. “From a family?”
“Not from a family,” he answered. “An outsider, or so it seems.”
“What outsider?” you asked and he chewed on his bite.
“No seriously, if I paid you, would you make more of these for me?”
You smacked his arm and snatched the cookie out of his hand.
“Hey!”
“What outsider?”
“It happened in Stark’s territory,” he said, eyeing the cookie. “He knows more than I do, he and your father had a talk I heard but we will all be informed in the meeting.”
You arched a brow. “And?”
“I swear to you, that’s all I know. Can I get it back now?”
You heaved a sigh and handed him the cookie, making him shoot you a happy smile.
“Thank you.”
“Do you think they’re the same people who were involved in the shootout?”
Bucky clenched his jaw, then cleared his throat.
“Who knows?” he said. “So did you think about my proposal?”
You threw your head back in frustration, then jumped to sit on the island, crossing your legs.
“I did,” you said, leaning slightly back, resting your palms on the island and pretending to be in deep thought. “And you know what, it kind of makes sense to use a marriage for my benefit and rise to power.”
If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was holding his breath, a hopeful light glimmering in his eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah so, Steve or Sam?” you asked airily and he frowned.
“What?”
“Yeah, I mean Romanoff is with Banner, Barton is married, so is Stark…”
A groan left his lips. “Charm…”
“So that leaves us Steve or Sam.”
“They’re my best friends.”
You shrugged your shoulders. “I know that. So what?”
“They would never.”
“Why not?” you asked. “Because you called dibs on me or something?”
He averted his gaze from you and you sat up straighter, pulling your brows together.
“Bucky,” you growled. “You have exactly three seconds to tell me you didn’t call dibs on me as if I’m a cookie because we’re standing in a kitchen full of knives—”
“I didn’t!” he said. “They just…they won’t, okay?”
“Well then that plan is not going to work because I’d never marry you—” you started but heard a knock by the door, making you turn your head to look at Steve.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all,” you said. “Bucky was just leaving.”
Steve glanced around the kitchen with his brows raised. “Since when do you bake?”
“It’s very good for mental health!” your defensive answer came almost too fast and he held up his hands.
“Alright then.”
“It does calm you down,” Bucky said solemnly and you narrowed your eyes at him.
“I’m going to take your cookie back.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Steve eyed the cookies. “Can I have one too?”
“See? He asks for permission,” you told Bucky. “Perfect marriage material there.”
“Excuse me, what?” Steve asked, gawking at you before Bucky grabbed a cookie from the plate and tossed it to Steve who caught it mid-air, then he turned to you.
“You know where to find me.”
“Yeah, between some woman’s legs,” you retorted, making him roll his eyes as Steve chuckled.
“I’ll see you around Charm,” he said and walked out of the kitchen with Steve following him. You nibbled on your lip, then grabbed a cookie and laid down on the island, keeping your eyes on the ceiling.
“So relaxed,” you murmured as you bit into the cookie. "I'm so very relaxed."
                                            *
That meeting took hours to be finished and even though you wanted to stick around in the house, you still had plans with Ethan for lunch. You were at the end of your wits from curiosity so by the time Ethan got there, you were still glued to your phone, waiting for a text from Becca.
“Hey,” he said, pressing a kiss on your cheek and you smiled up at him.
“Hey,” you said and took out the small container out of your handbag to put it in front of him, making him tilt his head.
“What is this?”
“Cookies,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee. “I made them today.”
Ethan stared at you. “You made cookies?”
“Why does everyone sound so shocked about it?” you asked back and Ethan chuckled.
“Y/N, while we were dating, you tried to make toast in the microwave.”
“It’s not my fault if microwaves aren’t that advanced yet,” you told him and he chuckled.
“Of course,” he played along, opening the container to take out a cookie. “What brought on this sudden interest in baking?”
“My psychiatrist,” you said as he took a careful bite and his eyes widened.
“You made this?”
You gasped in a dramatic manner and pushed at his boot with your heel. “I take your disbelief as a compliment.”
“You should, it’s amazing!” he said. “So your psychiatrist told you to bake cookies?”
“Well not just bake but more like…you know, relaxing stuff,” you said. “I started with baking because it sounded more interesting than the other options. And more delicious as well.”
“I think you unlocked a talent there,” he said and you hummed.
“Eh, maybe. My souffles disagree.”
“You made souffles?”
“I started for souffles but now I have muffins,” you said. “You know, not much of a difference there.”
“Muffins are better than souffles anyway,” he told you, grabbing another cookie as the waiter brought his coffee. “Thank you.”
“So I was going to ask you,” you said, turning your phone in your hand. “Where is your apartment exactly?”
“Between 33rd and 34th street right across from the bank, downstairs there’s a cute—”
“Drawing supplies store,” you finished his sentence for him and he blinked a couple of times.
“Do you have a map in your mind or something?”
“My father made me basically memorize the whole city so yeah,” you said and heaved a sigh. “Great. Stark’s territory.”
He pulled his brows together. “Is that bad?”
“Not necessarily,” you said, running a hand over your face. “So hypothetically speaking—”
“Jesus, we’re back to that?” he teased you and you shook your head slightly.
“No I’m serious,” you said. “Hypothetically speaking, it wouldn’t be a good idea to wander around there late in the evening nowadays.”
His frown deepened.
“Is this related to that attack there earlier today?”
Your eyes shot up to his. “You were there?”
“No no, not very close at least,” he said. “It’s just—there was terrible traffic and I heard the police cards and the ambulance, and people were saying there was an attack.”
“At who? Or what?”
“I really don’t know,” he said, shooting you an apologetic look. “Sorry, I didn’t really think much of it. So is this related?”
You pursed your lips together and shrugged your shoulders.
“I’m not sure but as my dad says, you can never be too careful,” you said. “Alright, here’s the thing. I’ll hire someone to keep an eye around your apartment just in case—”
“Wait, what?”
“Just as a precaution.”
“Y/N, I’m a civilian,” he said with a small laugh. “You said civilians don’t get involved—”
“They don’t, it’s a just precaution,” you repeated, taking another sip of your coffee. “I’m sure nothing is going to happen, but it’s good to be careful.”
He leaned back in his chair, deep in thought.
“I’m not gonna have a bodyguard following my every move, right?”
“No they do that with me, not you,” you said, a smile curling your lips. “I assure you, you won’t even notice they’re around.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Not really, I don’t hire amateurs.”
A small chuckle climbed up his throat and he shook his head.
“This is insane.”
“You wanted excitement,” you pointed out. “I’m just making sure that excitement doesn’t turn into actual danger, that’s all.”
He popped another cookie in his mouth. “Did you bring me these so that I would feel more relaxed?”
You shot him a mischievous grin. “Maybe. Is it working?”
“I feel better about it than I would have with zero cookies,” he joked, coaxing out a giggle from you. “So wait, you wanted to let me know first?”
“Yeah because I don’t want to be the psycho ex who puts people in your tail in secret.”
“No, just the ex who has the ability to pull something like that and bake cookies at the same time.”
“I’m nothing if not versatile,” you stated, making him laugh.
“Oh trust me,” he said. “I’m well aware of that.”
You mirrored his smile and held his gaze, biting at your lip before sitting up straighter.
“So,” you said. “Enough about me. How’s everything at the office?”
                                            *
When you got back home, the meeting was mostly over but apparently Bucky and Sam had stayed for a short talk with your father. Even Ian was sent out of the room which gave you a strange satisfaction but it didn’t last very long when you saw him smirking while talking on the phone in the living room. You stepped inside and flung yourself on the couch, crossing your arms while waiting for him to finish.
“Yeah no, because I said—that’s what I’m saying, just be prepared for anything, we don’t know whose territory it might be next. If it’s ours…”
You checked your nails, humming a song just so that you could get on his nerves and Ian stole a look at you.
“I’ll call you later,” he said and hung up, then put his phone into the inner pocket of his jacket. “Y/N.”
“Ian,” you said. “They kicked you out while the real bosses speak then?”
“I had to step outside to make some calls,” he said and you hummed.
“Before or after they kicked you out?”
“Better than not being invited in at all,” he stated, making your jaw clench. “I half expected to see you eavesdropping in the hallway, you surprised me.”
You clicked your tongue, then shot him a fake smile.
“Do they ask you to bring them coffee?” you asked. “While they talk? Like an assistant.”
“I know you find this hard to accept, but I hold a very important part in those meetings,” he said. “Seeing that I’m the heir.”
“Are you though?” you asked. “Father didn’t officially announce you.”
“And he certainly won’t announce you,” he said and you crossed your legs, trying to seem calm and collected.
“So what is going to happen if our territory is next?” you asked him airily and he sat down on the couch across from yours.
“We are going to retaliate.”
“And you hope our territory is next,” you stated and he shrugged his shoulders.
“Not at all but if it is, we will handle it.”
“And the rest of the city?” you asked. “The other territories?”
He rolled his eyes. “You might want to check your priorities there, Y/N.”
“Do you seriously think our territory can just survive on its own?” you asked back. “Do you think if it somehow leads to a war, if any of the other territories get affected, we will still be fine? That will affect the truce and if the peace—”
“That’s the difference between you and me,” Ian cut you off. “The exact reason why uncle chose me as his heir over you. I don’t care much for peace.”
You stared at him, your heart beating in your ears because of the fury spreading through you over his words but before you could say anything, you heard Bucky’s voice in the foyer. You shot up from the couch, rushed to the foyer to see Bucky and Sam, your heels echoing on the marble floor.
“Hi Sam, nice to see you,” you said without even stopping, and grabbed Bucky’s arm to drag him towards the spiral stairs. “You’re coming with me.”
“What, it’s not good to see me?” Bucky asked but followed you without so much as an argument. You made your way through the hallway after you reached the top of the stairs, then pushed him into your room and slammed the door behind you.
“Charm if you wanted me in your bedroom, all you had to do was ask—”
“Keep dreaming,” you snapped at him and he shot you a mischievous grin.
“Hi.”
“What did you all talk about?”
He looked around the room as if trying to take it in as much as he could, and you followed his gaze as it fell on the fireplace and to your reading corner by the window, then to the antique mirror and your vanity before he approached your bed to sit down on it.
“Lovely room,” he commented and you crossed your arms.
“Tell me.”
“This relationship is starting to feel very one-sided—”
“That’s because it is,” you cut him off. “What is going on?”
He heaved a sigh and ran his vibranium hand through his hair.
“Well, at least now we have a name,” he said. “One of the men Stark captured, he said something.”
You arched a brow. “What did he say?”
“Hydra.”
You pulled your brows together, deep in thought.
“Doesn’t sound familiar,” you said. “What, are they new or something?”
Bucky scoffed a laugh and shook his head.
“Not at all,” he said. “We’re still gathering more information about them but they’re not new, that’s for sure.”
You clicked your tongue.
“And let me guess,” you said. “They’re not just a couple of people?”
Bucky shook his head again and you closed your eyes for a moment, letting out a breath as you opened them.
“Fuck.”
Bucky shot you a dry smile. “My reaction exactly.”
“But either way, if all families are working together against them,” you thought out loud. “It means—where did they attack in Stark’s territory, by the way? One of his places?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“A café.”
“Stark doesn’t own a café.”
“No he doesn’t.”
Your stomach did a painful flip as you stared at him.
“Civilians?” you asked, your voice hoarse. “They’re attacking civilians?”
“They’re attacking everyone including civilians,” Bucky answered and you pursed your lips together.
“So no code then,” you murmured. “They’ll create chaos and…”
“We will stop them before they do that,” Bucky assured you as he stood up from the bed. “But Charm, listen to me. From now on, nowhere in the city is one hundred percent safe, no matter whose territory it is. That whole bullshit you keep pulling with no bodyguards—”
“I don’t have a death wish,” you cut him off. “I know how dangerous it can get in a situation like this. I grew up with the same stories as you, remember?”
Bucky’s phone started vibrating and he checked the caller ID, then put it back in his pocket again.
“I gotta go,” he said. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“To repeat, I—”
“Charm,” he interrupted you as if he didn’t have the time for nonsense, his tone completely serious. “Promise me. Please.”
You frowned slightly, then shrugged your shoulders.
“Yeah sure,” you said and he nodded to himself, then walked to the door but stop when he heard you say his name.
“Bucky?”
He turned to you. “Yeah?”
“This whole thing, it won’t lead to the truce breaking, will it?” you asked, desperately trying to convince yourself. “Between the families?”
Bucky shot you an almost reprimanding look like he could see right through you.
“I’ll lie to you if you want me to but we did grow up with the same stories Charm,” he reminded you. “It will lead to something, and you know it as well as I do.”
With that, he walked out of your room and you sat down on the armchair across from the fireplace with a sigh, your heart slamming against your ribcage. You gritted your teeth together and leaned your head back, then pressed your palms on your eyes.
 “Oh,” you said. “God damn it.”
Chapter 8
279 notes · View notes
woso-dreamzzz · 4 months
Text
If Music Be The Food Of Love
Laia Aleixandri x Reader
Summary: Leila can't quite believe that Laia's bringing her to see the orchestra
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"Since when were you into music?"
"I've always been into music."
Leila gave her a deadpan stare, one perfect brow raised. "Not classical music. You told me when you moved in that classical music was the bane of your existence and if you found out whoever played it in the locker room, you would come down upon them with a vengeance."
Laia had forgotten that but she awkwardly clear her throat, trying to brush the comment away. "Things can change," She said," Maybe I've matured."
"Matured? Ha!" Leila replied," Sure, and pigs can fly."
"Look, if you don't want to be here then fine! Leave!"
"Whoa, whoa!" Leila held her hands up in defeat. "I never meant that. Thank you for the tickets, really. I was just questioning your newfound love for the orchestra. Sorry if I hit a nerve or something."
Laia ignored her friend as they filed into the auditorium, finding their seats in the box. "Hi," She greeted the other people in the box with familiarity as she took her seat, dragging Leila with her," Hello. It's good to see you."
"Who is your friend, Laia?" A much older woman asked, hands wrapped tightly around the walking stick between her legs.
"This is Leila, we play together. For club and country," Laia said, indicating to Leila who looked incredibly confused as to just how many times Laia, the self-proclaimed classical music hater, had been to see this orchestra.
"A different type of playing than this," The old woman joked.
"Very different to this," Laia agreed.
A hush descended upon the audience as the curtain rose and revealed the orchestra, a group of smartly dressed individuals in all black.
Instantly, Laia's eyes sought you out. She had no problem finding you. She never had a problem finding you - even though you sat closest to the audience in the first chair to the conductor's left. She was drawn to you no matter where you were and could find you in a crowd without a second thought.
Your face was a mask of professionalism but, when your eyes glanced to the box, the barest hint of a smile poked at the corner of your lips.
"Don't tell me that's why we've come," Leila hissed in her ear," Because you've got the hots for a violin girl."
Laia didn't get time to respond (not that she would, lost to the world staring into your eyes despite the distance between you) because the conductor cleared his throat, hand up to begin the concert.
Music of angelic quality filled the room but Laia didn't turn her gaze from you. Your eyes were slightly closed as you counted your beats and rests. Your violin was a snug fit under your chin and your bow moved over your strings with such experience and skill that it was obvious why you were the concertmaster.
Laia didn't stop watching you even when there was a flute solo. You caught her eye several times but mainly stayed focused on your conductor. But, every so often, your head would tilt the slightest bit to the side, towards the box that Laia was sitting in.
Your eyes would meet for a moment and you would instantly be transported back to when you first met her, in a hole in the wall café that served the best coffee in the city.
She had asked to sit at your table as everywhere else was full. You would later learn that it was just an excuse so she could finally pluck up the courage to speak to you.
You welcomed her into your booth and got to talking, about her football matches and your orchestra concerts. She confessed her hatred for all things classical and you invited her round to your place to listen to good classical music - because only people who heard bad classical music ever swore off the genre entirely.
Things had blossomed easily from there and soon she was sat in the family box with your fellow musicians' families, listening to you play with a soft smile and warm arms to welcome you at the end.
You adjusted your positioning as the introduction to your solo began to build. The music swelled before, one by one each of your fellow string sections dropped off. Your first violins accompanied you into the first few notes before stilling, letting you take the lead - your shining moment of the song.
You kept your eyes on Laia as you played, not really needing the conductor when you had played this particular solo many times to perfection.
It was actually the first solo you had ever played in Laia's company when she had demanded to hear your excellence on your third date, curled up in your apartment after a warm meal.
●~●~●~●~
"Are we allowed to be here?" Leila asked in a hushed voice even as she took a flute of champagne from the waiter offering it to her.
"For the last time, yes," Laia said back, sipping her own champagne. It wasn't her alcohol of choice but your events tended to be fancy like this so she had gained an appreciation for it.
Leila let out a breath as she surveyed the room where the afterparty was taking place. "You never told me how much I owe you for the tickets. I mean, a box Laia? How much did this cost?"
"Nothing." Laia was only half paying attention, eyes focussed on each of the doors, trying to guess which one you were going to walk through. "They were free."
"Free?" Leila's voice was steeped in incredulousness. "Have you been donating to the orchestra or something? Those seats were fancy."
"Not quite."
You stepped through the door on her left. Your face held a single-minded purpose as you walked across the room. You took a glass of champagne on instinct, not bothering to look at the waiter as you joined Laia and Leila.
"Hi," You said.
"Hi," Laia said back.
"Hi," You said again.
"Hello."
You broke your gaze from Laia and turned it to her companion. You smiled. "You must be Leila, it's so good to meet you. I'm y/n." You held out your hand.
She took it and nodded knowingly. "Violin girl."
You giggled, taking a sip of champagne. "That's not a name I'm quite accustomed to. Usually, it's just the concertmaster."
Leila grinned. "I'll pretend that I know what that means."
"It means that she's second in command," Laia said quickly. She placed her champagne flute off to the side and wrapped an arm securely around your waist. "I'm very proud."
"I'm glad you could come," You said to Leila sincerely," It's nice to finally meet one of Laia's friends."
Leila looked between the two of you suspiciously, taking in Laia's arm and the way you leaned into her grip, practically laying your head on her shoulder.
"I take it I have you to thank for the box tickets."
Your cheeks coloured. "I get up to four free box tickets for every performance. I told Laia she could bring whoever she wanted."
"And is Laia a constant audience member for you?"
"Always." You pressed a kiss against her cheek. "Laia's been coming to shows ever since I made her fall in love with classical music again."
"Laia? Into classical music?" Leila laughed," You must be some persuader."
"I like to think it was my kisses that really sealed the deal."
Leila roared with laughter but Laia didn't care.
She dipped her head down to meet your lips. You tasted exactly like usual, a mix of fancy champagne and the chewing gum you always used before a performance.
You kissed her back just as sweetly.
"So," Leila said, wiggling her eyebrows," I'm getting the sense here that you two are an item."
"What gave it away? The kissing?" You asked.
Leila shrugged and Laia already knew she was going to regret introducing her friend to you. "And the eye fucking every time she looked at you on stage."
326 notes · View notes
maximoff-pan · 1 year
Note
steve and reader drabble about a secret relationship mayhaps? 😫
you know I can’t resist writing for this hunk of a man ;)
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 2.4k
warning(s): some swears, being caught red handed 🤭
quick a/n: hi lovelies! sorry for being m.i.a recently. I’ve gone back to school and it’s been too busy for me to write anything. I apologize for this being rushed/incoherent, please forgive me….
part two
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Fucking girls night…
Whatever possessed you to think this was a good idea, you’re not entirely sure. Honestly, you can’t even remember who convinced you to come; they’d all been begging you for weeks to finally show up to one of these things. And now that you’re here, you’re quickly realizing why you’d been so hesitant before.
You don’t think you’ve ever felt this flustered or uncomfortable in your life, and that’s definitely saying something. Really saying something…
It’s not the fact that everyone here has a significant other that bothers you. It’s the fact that everyone here has a significant other, and they think you don’t. Because as far as they’re concerned, you’re as single as single can be.
Which would be fine if it was the truth. But it’s not. And the guilt is starting to eat at you. How many more times do they have to try and set you up before you break?
Quite frankly, at this rate, it feels like you’re almost there.
“What about Peter Wilson?”
Robin recoils at Nancy’s suggestion, picking her nails in disgust. “Absolutely not.”
You remain quiet. They’re trying to find you a boyfriend, again.
“What’s so bad about him?” Max inquires.
El adds, “He’s kind of cute.”
���Sure,” Robin scoffs, “If you’re into delusional sociopaths.”
Tilting her head, brow quirked, Nancy asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Robin’s pitch drops slightly. “Let’s just say, that incident where Stacy Mathers almost drowned last summer, wasn’t so much of an accident.”
Max’s eyes widen. “You mean he tried to–” she trails, too disturbed to even finish the sentence.
Robin nods. “That one’s as sadistic as they come.”
“Okay.” Nancy agrees, moving the conversation along. “So that’s a no on Peter.”
“Ooh.” El claps, eyes locking with Max. “What about Adam?”
“Adam Richards?”
Max and El nod together.
Your head has never whipped around faster. “You can’t be serious!”
Your voice catches Robin’s attention. “First of all,” she smirks, “welcome to the conversation! And second of all, what could possibly be wrong with him?” She knows exactly what’s wrong with him, she just wants to see you squirm.
“Rob, he’s fucking sixteen.”
“And?” Max joins in.
“I’m almost twenty.” You state. That should be reason enough, but as you glance between them, they don’t look convinced. The concern on your face is evident as you say, “I am not about to be some cradle robber!”
“But he’s like,” Max pauses adding on a valley girl accent, “the hottest Junior at Hawkin’s High.”
Your face scrunches in disgust, mimicking the accent back. “Fucking, ew.”
Nancy and El giggle at the interaction.
“Okay, so you’re not into younger guys then.” Robin teases, a sparkle of mischief in her stare. “Noted.”
These girls are going to drive you into madness…
“You know what else I’m not into?” The cadence of your voice carries with a hint of amusement. “My friends desperately trying to set me up because they think I’m pathetic and lonely.”
“But you are lonely.” Is El’s retort. Three pairs of eyes widen at the remark, but not yours. El’s bluntness has never surprised you. It’s actually pretty comforting, because you know she’d never lie to you.
Nancy hisses with a whine. “El.”
You’ve been around the Wheeler’s long enough to know that Nancy was raised to be a proper young lady, one who would never dare offend anyone. That alone causes your lip to quirk in bemusement.
You chuckle, feelings quite intact. “Oh good.” Your smile is cheeky. “At least you don’t think I’m pathetic.”
“She never said she didn’t.” Max points out with a grin.
“Hilarious Maxine.” You mock a sarcastic and melodic laugh.
“I don’t think you’re pathetic.” El cuts in before Max can say anything else. “I just think you need a boyfriend.”
You have half a mind to say ‘I’ve already got one,’ but you bite your tongue.
Just like you have for the last six months.
That’s half a year of trying so hard to keep your relationship status on the down low. Because things with Steve are new, and after many years of denying any feelings towards each other, you finally decided to go for it. But, on the off chance you both found that you were better off as friends, you came to the mutual decision that waiting to tell the kids (and everyone else) was the best idea. As much as you think they’d be happy to see you two together (and boy have they pushed for it), it’s not something you’d want to get their hopes up for.
You’re serious about Steve, more serious than you’ve ever been about anyone before. As much confidence as you hold in your love for him, you know he’s serious about you too. And maybe now that you’re certain (at least on your end) that you’re both sure, you can start to tell everyone about your relationship. For tonight though, you’re going to have to continue playing the role of the lonely single.
How tragic…your mind wanders.
“Oh my god!” Nancy’s interjection catches you off guard. She’s masking her smirk well, but you can still see it. “How could I not have thought of this?”
Her surprise feels more like it’s been planned, like she’s been thinking of a way to bring whatever she’s been thinking about into the conversation without rousing too much suspicion.
“Thought of what?” Robin asks, feeding into it.
Your eyes narrow.
Nancy leans over to whisper something into her ear. The chain continues with Robin leaning in to tell Max, and Max whispering it to El, leaving you thoroughly left out.
What is she planning?
“Uh, a little inclusion might be nice.” You tutt.
Four pairs of eyes bore into you, excited smiles resting on each of their faces.
Here it comes, you think.
“All this talk of boys…” Nancy starts. “What about Steve?” She asks.
And there it is. “Guys.” You groan. “Not this again.”
“C’mon (Y/n), please?” Max’s whine is on the verge of a full on beg. “I know you’ve thought about it. We all see the way you look at each other.”
“Like I do.” El’s matter-of-factness is not so comforting in this moment. “With Mike. And Max, with Lucas.”
“Oh!” Max exclaims. “Remember when Nancy and Jonathan first got together? They were really good friends, like you and Steve.”
You take a quick glance over to Nancy who’s now gone quiet, a pink blush covering the softness of her cheeks.
“Guys. Steve and I are just that,” you eye each of them with a deep intensity, “friends.”
Nancy remembers saying the exact same thing to Murray Bauman after he’d accused her and Jonathan of suppressing their feelings.
She hadn’t quite known then how strong she felt about him, as she does now. But as she glances in your direction, she reads an expression on your face that she wasn’t expecting: guilt.
You don’t exactly look like someone who’s freaking themselves out over their newly discovered — and to everyone else, totally obvious — feelings for their best friend like she had. Instead, you look like you’ve accepted them, and more so, if Nancy is as good at reading you as she thinks she is, you look like you’re hiding something.
“You’d be perfect together.” Is one of Max’s last attempts of the night at convincing you. She only wants to see you happy. Maybe if she just pushed a little more.
Your heart wrenches at her words.
You hate lying to them, you really do. You’re almost not sure why you’re doing it anymore, but you can’t seem to stop yourself.
God, you wish a black hole would suck you into the abyss. “Max, you know that’s not how it works. You can’t decide you’re going to be with someone just because you want to be. There’s a whole other person to consider.”
“Semantics.” She puffs a breath of air, waving you off. “And not if that other person is already head over heels in love with you.”
“Max.” You warn with the tilt of your head and an extremely deep breath.
Robin jumps in, lips pulled into a cheeky grin. “I’m not hearing a no.”
If that’s what it’ll take, you think, “Then no.” You finally say.
Robin catches your gaze, her eyes softening. All hints of teasing seem to be gone. There’s no way this can mean anything good.
“I know I don’t do this often,” she starts, “but I’m going to say something in all seriousness here.”
“Please don’t.”
Robin’s unimpressed stare tells you that she’s not only going to ignore your request, but she also really means what she’s about to say. Her voice is steady and calm as she speaks, “Steve likes you.” She says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you suppose it is. At least now.
“He’s told me. I mean, he really, really likes you… like marry you this instant, thinks about having six kids with you, likes you…” She drags the words slowly trying to emphasize her point.
You know this. But you have to play that you don’t. “Jeez, I don’t know about the six kids and the marriage part, I think you might be getting way ahead of yourself there Rob,” your voice drifts slightly. “But I’d hope that at the very least Steve likes me. It’s not like he’s one of my best friends or anything.”
Max lets out a low groan. Robin has basically confirmed that Steve (despite everyone else already knowing this) is in love with you, and you’re still refusing to acknowledge it.
It’s beyond frustrating. “You’re so hopeless.” She says.
“Am I?” You jest. As guilty as you feel, this is sort of fun for you.
“Terribly.” Is her reply.
You grin, happy to change the subject. “Can’t make things easy for you now can I?”
“We’d never expect you to.” Stormy blue orbs catch yours, a flicker of recognition flashing back to you.
There's a hint in Nancy’s voice and demeanour that tells you she knows more than she’s letting on. The look she gives you says it all: your secret’s safe with me.
You shouldn’t be surprised that she picked up on it. She’s probably known for months. Because not only does she know you and Steve better than almost anyone else, she knows exactly what Steve looks like when he’s in love.
With a soft smile falling onto your lips, you breathe a sigh of relief in the moment of brief silence that rests between you. Someone knows, and they approve. Your eyes glimmer gratefully. Thank you. Your signal is nonverbal, but she understands nonetheless.
You’re welcome.
• ж • ж • ж •
Steve wonders how you’re doing right about now. Because at the moment, he wants nothing more than to be with you, hanging out and not having to worry about keeping this a secret.
For the past hour, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike have been driving him up a wall. Susie this. El that. Max, blah blah blah.
Mike had started it all with a quick, ‘Hey Steve, why don’t you have a girlfriend?’
Then Lucas had joined in. ‘Yeah, what happened to you man? I thought you were supposed to be some kind of God or something?’
“He used to be.” Dustin had assured them. “Still is. The God’s somewhere in there.” Dustin poked at Steve’s chest. He’d seen Steve in action before, he knows the charm is real.
The pale raven haired teen beside Dustin then snorted. “Bagging my sister doesn’t count.”
Steve almost punted Mike over that one. Smug little bastard…
And that’s not even the worst of it. Steve can take the constant teasing of his romantic failures; he’s been doing that for years now, taking blow after blow to his ego. It’s Eddie’s creepy staring that’s sending him over the fucking edge. Every time he looks over, there’s Eddie, already looking at him.
Steve shudders at the thought. He can feel Munson’s pair of deep brown eyes burning holes through his back, the hairs on his neck raised in discomfort. It’s like with every breath Steve takes, Eddie is analyzing it. He’s this close to smacking Eddie upside the head and telling him to cut this shit out.
It’s only when they get a moment alone does he discover the reason for the Hellfire club leader’s strange behaviour. They stand awkwardly in Mrs. Henderson’s kitchen, fumbling for snacks for the boys when Eddie finally breaks the silence.
“So,” his smirk is apparent. Steve didn’t know someone could smile that wide. “I was thinking.”
“Ah.” Steve hums trying to settle the nervous pit in his stomach. “Is that what that was?”
Eddie chuckles. “You know what Steve-O? Just for the ‘tude, maybe I shouldn’t tell you what I was thinking…” he trails.
That’s a challenge if he’s ever heard one, and he’s not about to bite. Eddie is anything but patient.
“Fine by me.” Steve claps a hand on Eddie’s shoulder as he passes him to grab a bowl from one of Dustin’s cupboards.
Eddie’s brow raises in surprise at his response, running a hand through his curly mop of hair.“Woah, c’mon.” He moves swiftly following him. “I was only kidding! Of course I’m going to tell you.”
Steve grabs the bag of popcorn from the cupboard, and pops it into the microwave. “Alright.”
“Okay.”
A couple of moments pass before:
“So?...” Steve’s fingers drum across the countertop in anxiety.
Eddie’s eyes widen. “Oh right.” He says, watching the time tick down on the clock. “It’s more of a question really.”
Steve moves to grab the bag out of the microwave as the timer beeps. “Shoot.” He replies, gently dumping the popcorn into the big plastic bowl. He’s kind of proud of himself for keeping this calm when he feels so on edge.
“Stop me if I cross the line or anything,” That’s never a good start to a sentence…
Eddie’s voice lowers in volume, but his tone grows in confidence. There’s something else to it, amusement…satisfaction maybe, Steve can’t quite place it. But he doesn’t like it.
Amber eyes meet a honey brown. Steve’s not sure how many seconds pass before he hears Eddie say:
“How long have you and (Y/n) been fucking?”
Well, fuck.
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pearlsinmyhair · 9 months
Text
₊ ⊹ the price of the name.
synopsis: reader has had a hard life, and now she’s an orphan. but someone just as lonely comes into her life to take her under his wing.
warnings: some calm before the storm. miguel won’t compromise his morals. diet angst. cursing.
platonic!miguel x daughter-like!reader. no seriously, reader is eighteen and young. this is found family, not romantic. training begins, and with miguel it is anything but easy. but sometimes he softens.
part i
word count: 2k
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part ii: star girl
   .     ˚     *     ✦   .  .   ✦ ˚      
“there are a lot of things you’re going to have to keep up with.” miguel said to you as you both walked through the halls of the spider society. you didn’t miss the glances and stares as you passed, and it made you shift closer to him.
he glanced down at you before glaring at a spider who stared a bit too hard, and they scrambled away.
“excuse their attention, i don’t usually take on apprentices.” he said simply as he continued walking. you had to practically run to keep up with his long legs.
“rule number one, keep up. i don’t need a kid dragging me down on missions or runs around the base. you’re eighteen, you can handle that.” he said without looking at you. you had to fight the urge to scoff at that. did he even realize how fast he was walking?
“rule number two, you have to protect your universe just as much as others. you are the only spider woman of universe 348, so you need to be vigilant.”
he glanced back at you again before saying.
“rule number three, you have to keep your grades up.”
you paused at that, your step faltering. “excuse me?”
“you heard me. you need to stay sharp, and not just in your training.” he hovered his hand over the key reader to the training area, and the doors opened with a soft hiss.
she had figured that he was insanely smart in some subject, as all spider people were, but she hadn’t figured it out quite yet. she’d only known him for a week.
“okay, fine. i’ll keep my grades up. anything else?” she asked as she looked around at the various equipment around the gym, all high tech and sparkly.
“yep. rule number four, when i say jump, you say…” he looked at you pointedly.
“how…high?”
“good job, you understand one of the most universal phrases. now run a lap.” he said, putting his hands on his hips and nodding to the track.
you stood still, not quite used to miguel’s pentient for sarcasm. he snapped his fingers in front of your face.
“c’mon kid, out of the clouds. jump.”
you rolled your shoulders, letting out a sigh as you began to jog.
this was going to be so much fun.
₊ ⊹
as weeks passed, you were beginning to realize just how much of an oddity yours and miguel’s partnership was.
the spider society had begun to call you ‘star girl’. the name laced both awe and envy.
it was loosely based on your suit, you were sure. it was blue with a few little stars trailing down it to add ambiance. but it was also linked to rarity.
the looks did not fade as time passed. and some looks of curiosity hardened into ones of jealously.
miguel was the unofficial leader of the spider society, and he was a hard man to please. many spiders gunned for your position, wanting even just a nod from him. but they got nothing. most of them were lucky if they ever got a single word out of him at all.
you would argue that their idea of miguel was tainted by rose colored glasses.
getting morsels of praise from him was great, partially because you knew he meant it when he said it. but every thing else?
“you need to be quicker. one day you might need that second to sling a web to safety or save a civilian. you can never afford to be slow, y/n.”
“again. your right hook is still too weak. you can’t always rely on webs.”
“kick your leg higher.”
“your webbing aim is still lacking, kid.”
“again.”
“again.”
“again.”
you had never been worked so hard.
it all piled into one training session of hand to hand combat.
there was always one rule when they were on the mat: no hitting faces.
no kicks. no punches. no slaps. no webs.
so instead, miguel would catch your blows with his hands, allowing you to throw punch after punch into his palms, correcting your positioning and your power everytime.
“it’s still really weak, kid. again.” he said, taking a step back, widening his stance once more in preparation for your punch.
but you didn’t move. you had been getting worse and worse as the lesson went, completly lost and confused as miguel kept dismissing each of your attempts.
“i don’t know how.” you murmured.
“quit pouting and try again. if you give up this quickly in an actual fight, you’ll fail. do. it. again.” he demanded, unaware of how tears pricked your eyes in frustration.
“i said i don’t know how!” you yelled, voice cracking pathetically halfway through.
miguel actually took a step back at your outburst, eyes widening slightly. for a moment, you expected him to bite back, or send you home. but when he didn’t reply, you kept going.
“i don’t know how, miguel. you tell me again, but i don’t know how to correct it. i need you to show me, not just tell me.” you said softly, suddenly embarrassed and a little frightened at his silence.
he swallowed, and his expression softened.
“go…go get a drink of water, then i’ll show you.” he said, blinking as he glanced away from you.
you had to fight off the urge to raise your own brows, instead using this rare moment of mercy to chug down water from one of the bottles on the side.
when you stepped back on the mat, miguel stood beside you, showing you exactly how to hold your fist, then how to move your arm.
when he stood in front of you again, holding his hand up in preparation, you threw your fist with as much force as you could muster.
the resounding slap made you cringe, and you opened one eye to check miguel’s expression.
the asshole looked bored.
“still didn’t hurt.” he deadpanned, and you responded by shoving him. he took a step back, a move that would not be possible unless he allowed it.
“you didn’t let me finish. it didn’t hurt, but it was better.” he said, pushing your forehead with his pointer finger.
you smiled, happy that at least you were improving.
and to your surprise, miguel gave you a small smile of his own.
₊ ⊹
after that practice, miguel’s whole training model changed.
now four months later, he met you at the entrance to his office, fiddling with his watch until a glowing portal opened up. when you raised a brow at him, he simply stepped into the portal, not bothering to tell you to follow.
when you exited the in-between of the universes, you were surprised to find that you were in a massive forest full of trees as tall as buildings.
without so much as an introduction, miguel shot a web and swung away from you.
“hey! what the hell, mig?” you shouted, struggling to swing beside him.
he glared at you. “never, ever, call me that. and we’re working on your swinging today.”
you glared right back, fumbling to keep your balance in the new setting. “no shit. but did you have to leave me?”
he smirked, flashing his canines at you when you almost fell. “expect the unexpected, y/n. i thought i taught you better.”
you scoffed, before once again nearly dropping.
miguel reached a hand out to you on instinct, but you recovered your balance.
“okay, let’s start easy. swing and fwip.” he said, murmuring the words as you mimicked his actions.
you smiled at him as you got the hang of your new surroundings. “did you get pointers from peter b?”
his face became grim. “do not dare mention that mans name. it summons him.”
you chuckled at that, before you pulled your web hard and swung your body into a backflip.
“see, i’m not entirely incompetent.” you told miguel, continuing to swing with him as he gave you small pointers.
“i’m aware. but i need you to be in top shape for when you go on a mission soon.”
you stopped shooting webs, pausing and dropping to the leaf-covered ground.
miguel circled and landed before you.
“are you telling me i’m ready?” you asked, looking up at him in disbelief.
“i’m telling you that i think you can handle slight anomalies. nothing big yet, just little disturbances.” he said, keeping his expression blank.
you bounced on your toes, chewing at your lip in excitement.
four months of training, and you’d be in the field.
you fought down the urge to whoop in celebration, or jump, or something. this was miguel after all. he didn’t appreciate sudden expressions of joy in his general vicinity.
so instead you settled for a sincere “thank you.”
he nodded sagely, fwipping back up to the trees.
and you followed, shooting webs and flipping, eager to sharpen your technique.
because of this, you missed the proud smile across miguel’s face.
₊ ⊹
you opened the door to your bedroom, eager to get your suit off and shower when you spotted the white box on your bed.
it was unassuming, plain except for a small message written in absurdly neat handwriting.
‘star girl’
you glanced around your room, even going so far as to ask lyla to scan it. calling on her was something you didn’t do too often. even though she was an a.i., it still felt like she was a person and that you were annoying her.
the projected woman granted your wishes, turning to you to tell you that all was well. she wore a secretive smile across her digital lips as she looked at you, then the box.
you glanced at the cardboard.
“you know something.” you said, tone suspicious as you tried to study lyla for answers.
she shrugged. “best way to know is to open it.” she replied before disappearing into a cloud of pixels.
you shuffled over to the box, tracing the edge of it before lifting one corner. you glanced inside and promptly slammed the top shut.
no fucking way.
there was absolutely no way.
you took a step back, turning your back to the box.
you couldn’t accept that.
but it was left on your bed. with your nickname on it.
you sucked your teeth as you turned back and fully opened the box.
inside it sat a beautiful midnight-blue spider suit with flecks of white stars all along it. you lifted the body of the suit up by the armpits, studying the way that the webs along it became geometric like constellations.
the white lines around the sides and waist glittered and flickered.
nanotechnology.
only one person had the materials to do this. and only one would have the courage to give it to you.
miguel.
you clutched the suit to your chest, fighting the raw emotion that caught in your throat.
you told him how much you loved the stars, explaining each and every constellation you had included on your suit.
you flipped the fabric in your hands to check.
cassiopeia on the ribs. canis major on the base of your foot. orion tangled in the spider symbol on the chest.
he would never give it to you in person. no, that would be far too informal, far to unprofessional.
so you sat in your room, biting your lip to fight back tears as you stood in your empty house, holding the glittering gift to your body like a vice.
you wondered how many nights he had spent making this. he had told you how hard his suit was to make, how tedious the process was. and he had done it all again.
for you.
fuck being unprofessional. you wished that he had given it to you in person anyway.
“lyla?”
“yes, y/n? are you alright, hun?”
“can you tell miguel-” you swallowed as a tear trailed down your cheek. “can you tell miguel thank you? like, really thank you?”
“…of course, hun. get some rest.”
you sank to your knees in the quiet of your dead house and sobbed, wishing for all the world that someone was here.
masterlists | part iii
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yeah it seems pretty wholesome rn, huh?
would be a shame if someone…changed that.
tag list:
@ladyfairenvale
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imagineredwood · 2 months
Text
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4. Stars ✨
Summary: EZ is president now and with that new control over the club has come new control over you.
Pairing: EZ Reyes x female reader
Warnings: 18+ Sexual content MDNI, PIV sex, oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation-(everything is consensual but the reader does ask him to stop due to overstimulation, not because she is no longer consenting), EZ talking the reader through it a little condescendingly
Word count: 745
A/N: Named it Stars because that what the 🍆 has you seeing in this one 🥰 Could potentially be seen as a little OOC for EZ, I just went with more of his personality from the later seasons. The more ruthless EZ as opposed to the usual characteristic early on cinnamon roll EZ 🫣 Also none of the other women that he’s been with on the show exist in this timeline so the reader is his first valentine since getting released.
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"I can't, I can't, I can't-"
EZ chuckled at your breathless voice, high-pitched, whiny, and desperate as you pushed at his shoulders, trying to earn some reprieve. The vibration against your clit ran a shiver through you, a quiet sob pushing past your lips at the overstimulation. You weren't sure how many times he had made you come now.
You had stopped counting after six.
It was Valentine's Day, and with his time in prison, EZ hadn't had a Valentine to spoil in quite some time. But he had you this year and he had pulled out all of the stops. Breakfast in bed, spending the day together doing the hobbies of your choice, a fancy dinner at your favorite restaurant, and now that you were both home, he had spent the last 45 minutes with his face buried in your pussy eating you like a man starved.
It had been great at first, like always, but somewhere around the fifth orgasm, it had somewhat lost its novelty as you shook and spasmed over and over. He took some pity, opting to move his mouth to your inner thighs, leaving kisses and soft bites while his fingers worked into you instead. He'd given your swollen clit some safety from the abuse for a good few minutes, long enough to help you settle. Just to bring his full lips to it once more, suckling and kissing, your thighs casing tightly around his head.
But he simply laughs again, taking true pleasure in your overstimulation. His goatee has rubbed your lips raw and he pouts slightly as the small welts of irritation that ripple the texture of your sensitive skin.
"Poor baby."
He runs a finger over your slit, shaking his head at the way your hips jerk.
"I can't, EZ. I'm s-serious. I can't...I can't...no more..."
You're having trouble forming words, your brain turned into mush long ago. The Mayan president gets up from his prone position, a kink in his neck that he ignores. He's sitting up on his knees, looking down at you with pride and adoration, his mouth and beard glistening in copious amounts of your slick and his spit. His hand is unceremonious as it comes up to wipe at his mouth, his eyes darker than you ever remember seeing them. Ever since he's taken the gavel, he's been this way. More rough. Primal. Feral even.
And now that he has reduced you to an incoherent babbling mess, he finally grips his cock, thick and solid and leaking, just to tap it sadistically against your puffy pussy. He runs the underside over your clit, reveling in the small hiss you let out at the contact, cooing at you as he does.
"You're ok. You can take it. I know you can. You can be strong for me, right? Can't you?"
His tone was babying yet condescending and you blinked the tears out of your eyes, your head nodding softly. He grinned and leaned down to press his lips to yours, his tongue dominant as it pushed against yours, your taste still in his mouth. He pulled away after a moment more and took hold of himself once again, cock pushing through your lips easily, back and forth, back and forth, your hole clenching on nothing on nothing every time he grazed over your clit.
He finally sunk into you without warning, slow and steady until he was buried within you fully. He leaned his weight on top of you, burly arms coming up to rest on either side of your head, encasing you. His lips kissed and sucked at your jaw as he gave you a moment to adjust, his left hand fisted into your hair. Not pulling or tugging, but ensuring he kept you just where he wanted you. He pulled his hips back then, all the way until he had almost slipped out of you, and then sank all the way back in. Your thighs trembled as they rested against his waist, your breathing shallow and ragged and he continued those strokes, making you see stars.
You made noises that EZ assumed might've been meant to sound like words, but they were unintelligible, so he paid them no mind.
"There you go, baby. That's my good girl. Look how good you take all of me."
You whimpered and nodded, your brain as scrambled as your insides, you having no choice but to lay there and take everything he gave you.
General taglist
@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl  @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast  @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114   @destynelseclipsa  @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben  @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lyly00 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester  @alexxavicry  @savagemickey03  @fanfic-n-tabulous   @gangstaliciou06
Mayans MC taglist
@dazzledamazon​  @abunnykisses​ @briana-mishell24​  @wrcn9fvlcver​  @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @krysiewithak​  @appropriate-writers-name​  @blessedboo​  @megapeacelovemusic-blog​ @emoengelfurleben​ @blowmymbackout​ @abby-splace​ @kola95​ @black-repunzel99​ @redpoodlern​  @myakai13​
@cruzwalters​  @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty​ @lyly00​ @im-just-a-mississippi-girl​  @angel-121​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @90sisthenew80s​ @lovelytricia @librarian1002
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stephstars08 · 4 months
Text
Happier
Ethan Landry x Reader
Warnings: Jealousy, Adult Language, Sexual Themes & References, ANGST, Heartbreaking Breakup, Depression, Alcohol, Reader gets cheated on, Fluff, Mention of Violence, Arguing, Suspicion, and Maybe some Grammar Errors. (Sorry if I forgot any)
Summary: Ethan and Y/N have been together for almost two years, but when Ethan’s jealousy finally pushes Y/N over the edge she breaks up with him and moves on from to some else so quickly. Ethan becomes heartbroken because when he first sees that Y/N has moved on, he thinks she looks happier with the new guy than she was with him.
Inspired Song: Happier by Ed Sheeran
Word Count: 2,277
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Ethan was sitting in his shared apartment. He was sitting on his couch running both of his hands through his brunette curls. He just got into another fight with his girlfriend Y/N. About a month ago Y/N met this other guy who works at the same café she works at that is on their college campus. Ever since the first day Ethan saw Y/N with him he instantly became jealous. Ethan noticed the way that asshole looks at his girlfriend. He knew that guy wants to get into Y/N’s pants so bad. But every time he mentions it to her, she always says the same thing. They are just friends and that’s it. Ethan has been with Y/N for almost two years, so he has no reason to be suspicious.
The couple was sitting in the living room doing their annual study date when Y/N got a text from her co-worker that set Ethan off. The fight got so heated Y/N threw her textbook down onto the carpet floor and went into Ethan’s bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. Ethan could hear Y/N’s sobs coming from his room. It makes his heart ache to hear her cry. It hurts even more because he’s the one that is making her cry. No matter how many times she tells him he has nothing to worry about his jealousy just takes over.
Ethan took his hands out of his hair and took a deep breath to calm himself down. Once he felt like his jealousy was out of his body he stood up and walked to his bedroom. He quietly opened the door to see Y/N sitting on the end of his bed crying into her hands. Ethan walked over to her and sat down next to her. “Y/N.” Ethan said in a soft tone. She scooted away from him without saying a word to him or looking at him. “Y/N, please talk to me.” Ethan said in a pleading tone. “What’s the fucking point!” Y/N snapped in frustration in her voice as she removed her hands off her face. “According to you every word that comes out of my mouth is a fucking lie to you!” Y/N hissed as avoided eye contact with him as tears continued to fall down her cheeks. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Ethan told her. He went to take her hand, but she stood up. “I can’t fucking do this anymore.” Y/N said walking out of the room. What she just said made Ethan’s heart drop to the floor.
He quickly stood up and walked back into the living room. Y/N just got done putting all her stuff back into her bag. When she stood up Ethan grabbed her arm before she could grab her bag off the floor. “Y/N, please stay.” Ethan said as tears started to fill his brown eyes. “Ethan, I can’t deal with you accusing me of cheating on you anymore.” Y/N told him as she tried to keep herself calm. “I fucked this up, didn’t I?” Ethan said knowing that this there isn’t anything he can say or do to make her stay. He pushed her over the edge. “I think you know the answer to that.” Y/N said getting out of his grip.
She grabbed her bag off the floor and walked over to the door. She didn’t even take a glance back at him. She walked out of the apartment and just let the door close on its own.
********************
Two weeks have passed since Y/N broke up with Ethan. It took everything in her to walk out of that apartment, but she had to do it. She can’t be with someone who doesn’t trust her. As much as she loves Ethan, if there is no trust, she can’t be with him. The first two days Y/N didn’t get out of her bed. If she didn’t have Tara and Mindy, she would most likely still be in her bed.
Y/N and Tara just got done with their first class of the day, so they decided to go to the café Y/N works at to grab something to eat before they have to be at their next class. After they got their food, they picked a table to sit at. Y/N forgot napkins, so she set her food down and walked over to where the napkins were and bumped into the guy that Ethan got so jealous of. She didn’t even know that he was working. “Hey, Frankie.” Y/N said with a kind smile. “Hey, how have you been since the breakup?” Frankie asked her with concern in his blue eyes. “I’ve been doing better than I was. It’s a good thing that I have Tara and Mindy because if I didn’t, I would still be in my bed all crawled up into a ball.” Y/N told him.
“Listen, I know that it’s only been two weeks, but I’ve had this huge crush on you, so I was wondering if you would like to go out sometime.” Frankie said in a curious tone which made Y/N’s heart rate speed up. “Oh, I don’t know.” Y/N said unsure if she’s ready to date someone so quickly. “Please Y/N. Just give me one chance.” Frankie said looking at her with pleading eyes. For some reason, Y/N couldn’t say no. “Okay, it does sound like it would be fun.” Y/N said with a nod. One date with Frankie won’t hurt. To be honest, she does need to get out. “Awesome, is tomorrow night good?” Frankie said with a smile. “Yeah, just text me the details.” Y/N told him. “Sounds good. See you tomorrow.” Frankie said with wink and walked away so he could get back to work. Y/N grabbed some napkins and walked back over to the table Tara was at.
“Hey, what were you talking to Frankie about?” Tara asked in a curious tone. “We’re going on a date tomorrow night.” Y/N told her as she sat down. Tara stared at her with wide eyes. “What?” Y/N asked her putting the napkins down next to her food. “Don’t you think it’s early?” Tara said to her in a soft voice. Y/N thought about it, but shook her head no. “But Y/N, it’s only been two weeks. You and Ethan were together for almost two years.” Tara told her which made Y/N let out a sigh of frustration. “It’s my life Tara!” Y/N told her in a stern tone. “It’s time for me to move on with my life.” She added. “But Y/N- “Tara started but Y/N cut her off right away. “Enough Tara! My mind is made up and I’m done talking about it!” Y/N told her in a snappy tone. Tara saw the stern look in Y/N’s eyes, but she also saw sadness in her eyes as well.
Tara knows Y/N is still not over Ethan and she wants to talk her out of going on this date with Frankie, but she knows that Y/N is stubborn so she’s not going to change her mind. “Okay, you’re right.” Tara said with a nod. “If you want, Mindy and I can come over to your place and help you get ready for the date.” She offered. “Thanks, I’d really like that.” Y/N said with a soft smile.
********************
It was the next night and Chad finally got Ethan to come out of the apartment for a night out. Ever since the breakup the only time Ethan comes out of the apartment is to go to his classes. It took everything in Chad to finally convince Ethan to come out with him for a guy’s night out. All Ethan can think about was what Y/N said to him that night before she walked the door. He wishes he ran after her, but the guilt took over his body.
Ethan was walking down the sidewalk listening to Chad babble about something till he came to an abrupt stop. “What the fuck!” Ethan hissed. “What’s wro- “Chad started to say but cut himself off when he saw what Ethan saw. “Oh shit.” Chad said. In the restaurant across the street through the window there was Y/N sitting at a table with Frankie. Ethan felt like someone just stabbed him in the heart. It’s only been two weeks since the breakup and she’s already on a date with the asshole that caused the breakup. Ethan’s jealousy quickly rose in his body, but so did sadness.
He noticed the happiness in Y/N’s eyes. Ethan hasn’t seen her this happy in a long time and it was breaking his heart that it was a different guy making her happy. Ethan felt his heart sink when Y/N laughed at whatever the fuck Frankie just said to her. He wishes he was the one making her laugh. He used to be the one making her laugh. “Listen Ethan I- “Chad started to say but Ethan cut him off. “Don’t!” Ethan hissed looking away from Y/N. “Let’s just go.” Ethan said and walked away. Chad let out a sigh and followed him.
********************
A week has passed, and Y/N is still with Frankie. The first date turned out so well she decided to keep seeing him. Y/N was at a frat party with Frankie. Tara was at the party with Chad while Mindy was there with her girlfriend, Anika. Ethan wasn’t at the party which did feel strange for Y/N since this is the first party, she is at without him by her side. Y/N isn’t the biggest party girl, but she didn’t mind coming to them with Ethan since he made her feel safe and comfortable. She knew that no one was going to try and make her do something she didn’t want to do with him by her side.
Y/N was downstairs in the frat house talking to Tara and Chad. Frankie was with her but went to bathroom which was thirty minutes ago. “I’m going to go check on Frankie.” Y/N told her friends. She made her way through the crowd to get to the stairs. She walked up the steps and walked to the bathroom where before she even knocked on the door, she heard a girl moaning. “Frankie!” Y/N called out as she knocked on the door. “Shit!” She heard Frankie hiss which broke her heart. He was in there fucking another girl. That’s why he was taking so fucking long. “You know what, finish what you’re doing because we are fucking done!” Y/N called out before he could say anything as tears started to form in her eyes.
********************
Ethan was sitting in the living room of his shared apartment. He was drinking whisky and trying to focus on the movie he was watching, but the only thing that was on his mind was her. He was hoping the whiskey would numb the pain, but it wasn’t. He was going to go the frat party, but he couldn’t see Y/N with Frankie. He knew if he went, he would’ve end up doing something that would make Y/N even more upset with him.
Ethan was about to pour some more whiskey into his cup when there was a knock at the door which made him groan. Ethan stood up and walked over to the door. When he opened the door, he was shocked to see Y/N standing there. He could tell that’s she’s been crying. “Y/N.” Ethan said in a soft voice. “Can I come in?” Y/N asked looking up into his brown eyes with glossy eyes. “Yeah.” Ethan said with a nod as he stepped to the side so she could walk inside the apartment. “Thanks.” Y/N said walking past him and straight over to the couch. “Do you want me to get you some- “Ethan started as he shut the door but stopped when he turned around to see Y/N sitting on the couch drinking the whiskey right out of the bottle.
Ethan walked back over to the couch and sat down next to her. He picked up the remote and turned the tv off. Y/N hissed as she put the bottle of whiskey back down onto the table. Because she drank so much of it in one ship, it burned her throat. “Why aren’t you at the party?” Ethan asked her which made her do a heavy sigh. “You were right about Frankie.” Y/N started. “I guess since I haven’t let him get into my pants, yet he decided to go get into some other girl’s pants.” Y/N said avoiding his eyes. “Shit, Y/N I’m sorry that happened.” Ethan told her. He really wanted to go to that party and beat the shit out of Frankie, but he knew he needed to stay with Y/N because of the current state she’s in. She just had her heart broken twice in just three weeks.
“Have you told the girls and Chad yet?” Ethan asked which earned Y/N to shake her head no. “I thought it would be better to come to you first.” Y/N said looking up at him. “Really?” Ethan asked as he stared into her beautiful eyes that reminded him of diamonds. “I guess I knew that if Frankie hurt me, I could come back to you.” Y/N told him. “You’re right about that beautiful.” Ethan said using his hand to push some of her hair out of the way of her face.
“You’ll always be my girl.” He told her cupping her cheek and stoked it gently with his thumb. “I love the sound of that.” Y/N said as her lips curved up into a smile. Ethan smiled back as he leaned in a connect his lips with hers.
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rinstrumental · 7 months
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so kiss me
tanthamore /
# inspired by kiss me - sixpence none the richer 💋 occurs before the events of the show!! no beta we die like ballantine, cross posted on ao3, gave them a more dramatic height difference because I Can
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"I can't stand these things," Kit declared, defiantly slamming her cup down on the table and earning a glare from Sorsha a few meters away. Not that she'd notice her mother's disapproval, anyway.
Jade set her own cup down slowly, as if the delicateness of her own actions would make up for the roughness of Kit's. It was another beautiful night spent in the stuffy confines of the banquet hall. Jade longed to leave the party - maybe even a little more than Kit did - but it was not her job to entertain the rebellious tendencies of the princess, as much as she wanted to.
"Would you like to dance?" Jade asked lightly, noting the restlessness of Kit's hands. The band was playing well tonight, and the dance floor was crowded. Those who weren't dancing were drinking and eating and chatting noisily away. She knew that the last thing Kit wanted right now was to be around other people, but it didn't hurt to try, right?
And Jade was right. "Have you seen the amount of people on the floor? I haven't seen it this crowded ever. And Mom will get me to dance with some stupid suitor from god-knows-where and maybe even talk to him." Kit shuddered at the thought, earning a laugh from Jade. Always the optimist.
"I wouldn't mind dancing, though," Kit admitted a moment later. "But only with you."
"I have to say the same, Your Highness," she replied. For a second, all Kit could see was Jade and her eyes that got so bright when they were under the light and her beautiful red hair and the freckles dotted across her face. I could count them, she thought. I could stare at her for hours and then tell her how many freckles she has.
When Jade finally looked away, Kit hadn't even noticed what had drawn her attention away in the first place. She followed her gaze to where the commotion seemed to be coming from. A barrel of wine had been knocked over and was leaking red all over the floor.
"How did that even happen?" Jade muttered, almost in awe. The crowd was split and running to avoid the mess, the commotion deafening, and without the melodic tunes previously playing in the background, it was chaos. Sorsha was dancing around the puddles on the ground, calling for someone to get up and do something to stop the leak!
Jade averted her eyes, the thought of seeing the queen in such a state feeling somewhat wrong. Kit, on the other hand, was absolutely thrilled, her face lit up and a laugh lodged in her throat.
"Let's go!" she hissed excitedly, and without another thought, Kit had swung her legs over the bench and jumped to her feet. Jade followed suit, not even realizing what she was doing until she was standing. "Wait, what? Are you actually going to help?" she asked in disbelief, eyes flickering between the mess in the middle of the hall and the wild look on Kit's face. Why was she even asking that? She knew Kit. She was not going to dive headfirst into saving her mother from embarrassment out of pure goodwill.
Right again. "Jade, as much as I'm dying to get drenched in wine, I have other plans. Now come on, please?" Kit's hand was outstretched, tempting.
"Where are we going?" Although Kit did often refer to these parties as 'so boring it'll make you kill yourself', she'd hardly ever actually left one halfway. Sorsha had her ways of coercing her daughter into 'royal duties', and they worked.
Mostly.
"You'll know. It's not like the grounds are that big," Kit teased, waiting for Jade to take her hand. Just waiting, not hoping - somehow, she didn't have a doubt in her head that she'd refuse.
Their hands collided together, Kit wasting no time in grabbing the other's the moment she reached out. She always liked the way Jade's hands felt. Warm and slightly bigger than hers - calloused and scarred but still gentle. Kit's were cold and unscathed, so it was a nice change.
The pair stole out of the hall and into the cobblestone courtyard, heavy skirts hitched up to reveal their scruffy matching boots underneath. Jade couldn't help but grin when she saw Kit wearing them too. Sure, they would wear troublesome gowns and pin their hair back into place for a night, but world be damned if they had to force their feet into those suffocating heels.
"What she doesn't know won't hurt her," Kit said, 'her' being Sorsha. She broke into a run, still pulling Jade along with her. There was no need to rush, but the adrenaline rush from their escape (and Jade's hand in hers') was nothing short of exhilarating.
They ran all the way around the castle to one of the gardens, next to a huge floor to ceiling window that looked into the hall that they'd just left. The surroundings were weakly illuminated by the light coming from indoors, a light breeze rustling the trees and bushes. Clearly the situation had finally been resolved, because the din was relatively softer now. The barrel had been run dry, and the servants were now dutifully mopping up the mess.
If someone inside the hall had looked at the floor near where the window ended, they would have seen two pairs of eyes peering into the room. Jade and Kit stood and watched beneath the window, the latter on tiptoes and thoroughly enjoying watching the aftermath of the disorder.
"Looks like nobody managed to stop the leak in time," Jade commented. "What a waste of wine."
"It was probably diluted to hell," Kit scoffed, dropping back onto her heels and dusting off her hands.
Jade turned away from the window. "What are you going to do when your mother notices you're missing?"
"That's for future me to deal with."
"You know, with the amount of trouble you get into, one would have assumed that by now you'd have a way to get out of it."
"Thinking ahead is… is not something I'm familiar with. You should know that about me."
"With all due respect, Your Highness, I know. Because you usually drag me into it too."
The band inside the hall started up again. The music was low at first, uncertain, but after a few cheers from the crowd the music came back in full force.
Jade took a deep breath of the sweet night air, glad to finally be outside and able to enjoy the wonderful weather. A radiant full moon hung above them, accompanied by a swarm of stars.
While she watched the sky, Kit physically could not take her eyes off Jade. If the flickering candlelight lit up Jade's eyes, the milky moonlight practically made them glow. Despite their mutual hatred for party gowns, Kit couldn't help admiring Jade and the way her dark green dress draped so prettily no matter the way she moved.
"Jade Claymore, will you dance with me?" The words left her mouth before she let herself overthink it. Jade's gaze shifted to the girl standing in front of her. The music played softly behind them, filling the silence as Jade shuffled across the lawn to Kit. Her dress dragged across the ground and rustled the grass, but she stepped carefully so as to not trample the wildflowers. She smiled again when she stopped, and Kit thought she'd never see anything more beautiful.
"Who am I to deny my royal Highness?" This time, Jade took Kit's hand first, to the princess' surprise, gently pulling her in close before letting her hands settle on Kit's waist. Her grip was loose, almost hovering. Kit put her arms around Jade's shoulders, hoping that she would take the damn hint and hold her properly.
There was barely an inch between them now, the slight height difference doing nothing to stop the fervent eye contact. Kit couldn't suppress her smile as they danced. It was nothing complicated like the tedious routines her mother forced her to learn years ago - this was simple. It was perfect.
"Why do they overcomplicate dancing so much?" Kit whispered. "All those stupid steps and unnecessary twirling. This is much nicer… just getting to hold the other person and move to the music, you know?" Jade's hands relaxed little by little as she talked, the tension melting as their usual banter returned.
"I think I like this more too. But maybe I shouldn't judge - I never had professional lessons like you did, after all."
"You know, I used to pretend the instructor was… someone else. It made it feel a bit less like torture."
Jade wasn't one to jump to conclusions, especially when it came to Kit - but the way she looked away when she had mentioned the 'someone else' was telling, needless to say. "Was it me?"
She'd meant to make it sound teasing, unserious. But once again her unwavering loyalty betrayed her, and the words had sounded a lot more genuine than she'd wanted them to. Kit's eyes widened at the response, expecting a change of topic instead of the boldest question Jade has ever challenged her with.
"What if it was?"
"…I'd be flattered, I suppose." Jade's mind raced to find the words, still caught up on the fact that she'd even said that. "And surprised?"
The music stopped, replaced by distant claps and cheers. It was like the noises in the vicinity had doubled in volume - the chirping of crickets, the whispering wind, and the quick beating of two hearts. None of them could remember when Jade pulled Kit in so close that their bodies were now pressed against each other, or when Kit's hands came to rest on the nape of Jade's neck.
Neither of them pulled apart, even though everywhere they were touching seemed to burn, even though their faces were so, so close.
For the first time tonight, Kit deliberated the words on her tongue. She didn't dare imagine what Jade would say or do in response, but she held onto that little spark of hope. The spark of hope she felt whenever she noticed Jade staring at her from the corner of her eye.
"Can I kiss you?"
Oh, was all Jade could think. Oh, oh, oh. The princess' bright blue eyes were filled with what Jade could only describe as longing, and she wondered if they mirrored her own. Wondered if all those years spent trying to convince herself that her heart beat for the kingdom of Tir Asleen and not the heir to the throne were for naught. Wondered if she loved her back.
Jade nodded tentatively, exhaling shakily. She hated false hopes. She waited for Kit to pull away, or laugh that she was joking, but it didn't come.
Kit leaned forward and her lips brushed against Jade's, more carefully and tenderly than anything else she had ever handled in her life. When Jade didn't reciprocate, Kit's eyes fluttered open, her heart dropping. Had she somehow misunderstood? And now her friendship was ru-
Jade crashed her lips into hers, banishing any other thought from Kit's mind as the taller girl pulled her in even closer and craned her neck to meet Kit halfway. Kissing Jade was beyond anything Kit could have ever imagined, her arms tightening around Jade's neck and for a beautiful moment she wasn't Princess Kit of Tir Asleen, she was just Kit and Jade was just Jade and this was all she'd ever needed. Both relief and want flooded her veins, so impossibly glad that the redhead had wanted this just as much as she did.
The loud thumping of two pairs of footsteps approaching, accompanied by a familiar voice shouting Kit's name, forced Jade to pull back, breaking the kiss. Kit made a whine of disdain.
"I think that's the Queen, Princess," Jade whispered, looking wistfully to the side. Her hands were still shaking, heart rate jumping off the charts from the kiss, but she fell to her first instinct - to protect the princess. Kissing her was nice, of course, but she couldn't do that when Kit's mother was angrily lecturing her.
"Imagine her face when she finds her daughter sneaking off to swap spit with her best friend," Kit deadpanned, unraveling herself from Jade's grasp. She missed feeling Kit against her already. Their hands remained tightly entwined as Kit hitched up her skirt, as if she was getting ready to make a break for it. "Don't worry, I have a plan."
"Which is to run from your mother and rile her up even more?"
"You know me so well."
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Burning Sage (a.k.a. the Spicy Six go camping)
Part Deux
It begins with Steve and almost ends with Robin, because every time he brings it up she’s quick to respond with a resounding “nope!”
It doesn’t matter how sneaky he is about it. Nor does it matter how long her day has been or how exhausted she is. He can handle both their clean-up duties after their shift. He can ply her with pop and homebaked muffins. He can carry her dozing, dead weight from his car and up to her bedroom – the answer remains. And yes, she loves him. She loves him a lot, probably more than she loves, has loved, or will ever love anyone else.
But she won’t endure blisters and black flies for anyone, not even him. No way.
So, whenever he starts talking about camping, or hiking, or – god forbid – fishing, she’s quick to shoot it down. They’ll argue about it, and he’ll grumble and pout, but she stands firm every time. She successfully holds down the fort for over half a year.
And then.
It happens on a Wednesday afternoon. Business is slow, the only customers two eighth-grade girls whispering in the comedy section and one Eddie Munson up by the checkout. Although, the jury’s out if Eddie counts as a customer. Most of the time he only shows up to talk for a few hours (“enriching your work environment!” says he; “being a fucking nuisance,” says Steve). He’s been regaling them with a tale of how the kiddies utterly failed all their rolls and almost got eaten by a something-or-other because they couldn’t make a fire when Steve gets that wistful look in his eyes.
Here it comes.
Cub scouts. Nature. Knots and s'mores. The taste of wilderness and sound of fresh air. She could stop him already, but if she’ll refuse to tag along the least she can do is let him reminisce about it. It is pretty endearing, the way he lights up, words tumbling out and hands waving with excitement. Were she weaker…
But no. Black flies. Blisters. No way.
“...and it’s the best feeling in the world,” Steve says to Eddie.
Eddie stands draped over the polished countertop, curls spilling past his shoulders and an easy smile on his face. His eyes are glazed, though not with boredom or disinterest. Rather the opposite.
“I haven’t done it in ages,” Steve continues. “I’ve been wanting to! It’s just that it’s not the same thing, doing it alone. But Robin’s not into it, and I never even asked my high school friends since, uh, you know.”
Steve sighs and rests his forearms on the counter. It brings his face closer to Eddie’s, whose eyes grow hazier and ribcage heaves deeper. The tip of his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Robin would've laughed at him because of it, if her gut hadn't screamed that something terrible is about to happen.
“You wouldn’t be interested, would you?” Steve asks Eddie with a dry tone, like he isn’t really asking because he already knows the answer.
Except Eddie nods, still smiling. Robin’s breath stutters and her gut shrieks as he says, “Yeah.”
Steve gapes. “Wait, really?”
“Uh-huh.”
“HAH!”
Steve slaps his palm against the counter, leaving a smudged print on the wood and making Eddie flinch and reel out of whatever daydream he was stuck in. Steve doesn’t notice as he whips toward Robin. “You see?” he says. “Eddie gets it!”
Robin rolls her eyes but swallows her retort, because the two girls are approaching. They’ve been in here before – many times, in fact – and the last time she tried to serve them instead of letting Steve do it, she was on the receiving end of twin glares during the entire transaction. Whatever. She grabs Eddie by the jacket sleeve and pulls him out of the way.
“You’re a damn traitor, you know that?” she hisses.
Eddie shrugs. “In my defense, he’s hard to say ‘no’ to.”
“He’s literally the easiest person ever to say ‘no’ to.”
“Maybe for you, with your rock heart pumping ice through your veins!”
She rolls her eyes at him, too. “You’re actually going through with this?”
Eddie hesitates only so long it takes him to steal a glimpse of Steve, who's politely ignoring how the girls flutter their lashes and stick their little chests out. Doesn't seem like they'll go further this time either, which is a shame. Robin needs to witness them once they finally gather the courage to ask him out – she’ll take great schadenfreude in their rejection, and she won’t be ashamed about it.
Turning back to her, Eddie nods. “Yeah. Why not? He wants it, and… it’s camping. How hard can it be?”
And that’s how Robin gets roped into a three-day camping trip. Because what else is she supposed to do? Let them go alone? The woods are dangerous! The last time she took her eyes off either of them in the wild, they both ended up strangled and nearly eaten. Also, what would she do in the meantime? Wait for them to come back?
No way.
— ⛺ — ⛺ — ⛺ —
Jonathan isn’t entirely sure why Steve is there. Will and El are out, so it can’t be to pick them up or drop someone else off. His mom was clearly expecting Steve, though, and now she’s rattling away in the kitchen cabinets while Steve hovers in the living room and makes awkward small talk with Argyle. The news anchor is giving a semi-interesting update on the situation in Chernobyl, so Jonathan opts to focus on that, bestowing a mere half-ear to the conversation in the room. He barely catches when Steve says something about a camping trip and Argyle responds with a drawled “camping is awesome, brochacho!”
“You want to come with?” Steve asks, ripping Jonathan from the weather report because, hang on now, what was that?
Argyle and Steve have both turned to Jonathan with open, questioning expressions. He darts between them as he tries to untangle his own tongue. Camping trip? Camping trip? Jonathan has never gone camping before, unless staying the night in Castle Byers counts (it doesn’t). Camping is for people with time to spare and money to spend on equipment. And that means the nice equipment, the waterproof kind that’s too thick to tear after a single use.
“Uh,” he says. “Um, I guess, yeah?”
Argyle smiles his relaxed and late-summer-warm smile, nodding his approval. Steve’s face, however, erupts into a million-watt floodlight-beam. He lets them in on the plans: who else is going, where they’re going, what they’re bringing, that they’re leaving early on the 24th and driving back before noon on the 26th so no one will be missing any possible Memorial Day celebrations, and and and and and-
And Jonathan is going camping for three days with Steve Harrington. What the fuck.
He thumps his head against the sofa’s backrest, begging for the world to stop spinning and make sense again.
“I’m not sure how,” he tells Nancy the next day as they lie sprawled on her bed, she reading and he drawing lines along the patterns of her sweater, “but I’m going to go camping with Steve in two weeks.”
Despite everything, he is going. He’d tried finding a reason not to, but when he asked his mom if she surely didn’t need him to be home during Memorial weekend she told him no and that he should enjoy himself. “You can bring your camera,” she’d said. “I bet the woods at Everdusk are much prettier than ours.”
“You too?” Nancy says, flipping a page of her magazine. “Robin said she dodged it for ages, but then Eddie agreed and she felt forced to go.”
“And then Argyle agreed and I felt forced.” He rolls on top of her, burrowing his face between her shoulder blades until she grunts. “Will you come too? I don’t know if I’ll survive without you.”
“Robin said that, too.” She sighs, puts the magazine down, and wriggles around so they’re face to face. “Camping just isn’t my thing,” she says, as if it’s even remotely Jonathan’s thing either. “I didn’t go back whenever Steve and I were dating. Going now feels strange.”
“Why is it strange? It won't just be the two of you – it’s a group thing.”
“Why not let it be a bonding experience for you boys? And Robin.”
“Nance, you don’t understand. Steve will be there.”
“Oh, yeah.” Nancy nods and knits her eyebrows into mock seriousness. “Very audacious of him to be at the camping trip he’s organizing.”
He laughs. “You know what I mean. He’ll be there, and he’ll have Robin and Eddie, whom I don’t know at all, and I’ll have Argyle. I need you there for balance.”
“What if I go rogue and create a third faction with Robin?”
“We’d still be balanced.”
Nancy heaves a sigh. “Look,” she says, pushing him off whilst grabbing for her magazine, nearly slipping down the bedspread. “I just really don’t want to go camping, okay?”
“Guess that makes three of us.”
Her painted lips twist into an almost-smile. She’s about to speak when a bang sounds from downstairs. She snaps towards her closed door, like a hound catching scent; her shoulders tense and jaw clenches as the noise is followed by voices – Mike’s and maybe Dustin’s? – shouting. Amongst the muffled screams, Karen calls for Nancy to “please come down and help”.
Nancy’s entire face clenches – jaw, mouth, eyes – whilst she rubs at her temples with her middle and pointer fingers. A groan slithers out her mouth. Jonathan sits, offering his hand to pull her with.
“You know,” he says. “There won’t be any little brothers in the forest.”
She glares at him, though her heart’s not in it, and then they both rush downstairs to face the ruckus.
— ⛺ — ⛺ — ⛺ —
“How did I end up here?”
Eddie folds his hands behind his head and stares at the ceiling. There used to be a poster there above the bed, but it’s since been ripped off, the tape taking flakes of paint with it and leaving beige spots in the white ceiling. He can’t remember what kind of poster it was.
“Depends on what ‘here’ is,” Jeff says without looking up from his acoustic. He strums experimentally, and shakes his head at the resulting sound. “My house? You drove.”
“How did I end up being the kind of person who goes camping with Steve Harrington?”
“Luck? Destiny? I’ve no idea, man.” Jeff goes back to plucking scales. “You know I don’t like existential questions – they’ve got no clear answer.”
Eddie scrunches his nose. “I hate the outdoors.”
“So don’t go?”
“But I like spending time with Steve, and Robin. And Nancy, apparently? And I do want to get to know Jonathan and his pattern-christened compatriot.”
“Okay.” Jeff positions the guitar back on its stand, then leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees. His eyes are gaining that same sharpness as when he’s considering his choices, weighing them on an invisible scale. When DMing, Eddie quite likes that sharpness; right now the hollows of his knees are starting to get clammy. “What do you want from me here? Tell you to go? Not to go? Go and how to survive slash not make a fool out of yourself? What do you need?”
“I don’t know!” Eddie throws his hands into the air. “I’m digesting!”
Jeff hums. Goddamnit, Eddie should’ve gone to Gareth instead. Gareth would’ve let him complain for an hour tops and then thrown something at his head with a “suck it up and shut up”. He would not have tried to help solve the problem (the not-problem – there is no problem). Because Gareth is considerate like that, unlike Jeff, the bastard.
“Why did you agree to do this?” Jeff asks. “And don’t say it’s because you want to hang out with them – you already do. Constantly. Us guys have actually started to feel a little bit replaced.” He cocks his head askew, adding softly: “It’s kinda hurtful, you know?”
It’s instinctual, how Eddie rolls off the bed so fast he nearly brains himself on the side table. His knees thunk against the carpet and then he’s crawling up to Jeff on all fours. He grabs Jeff’s hand, and Jeff lets it be grabbed, fingers curling around Eddie’s.
“Don’t say that! Jeff, don’t ever say that! I could never- you had my back for years, whenever no one else would, okay?” His eyes bore into Jeff’s as he squeezes his hand. “Nothing can replace that. We’re still the same, yeah? I’m yours and you’re mine. It’s just that, lately I’ve needed… ”
“I know.” Jeff waves his free hand in the air. “Whatever went down in March, you need to work it through. With them.”
“I will tell you about it, sometime,” Eddie says but doesn’t quite promise. He isn’t yet sure it’d be a good idea for them to know, now, later, or ever.
He doesn’t have to promise, though, because Jeff is already smiling, placated.
“All right. So. Why did you agree-”
He interrupts himself with a chuckle as Eddie spins around and faceplants on the bed, groaning into the unwashed mattress. It really was a bad idea to talk to Jeff. To be a problem-solver is one thing, but to be so relentless about it, too? It’s rude.
“It was just…” The words come out muffled; Eddie slides his face down an inch to release them. A stray feather sticking out of the down comforter ends up poking him in the cheek. “He was so excited about it. You should’ve seen him! He kept looking at me with these eyes and my brain went frtzz.” He wiggles his fingers by his temple to illustrate. “Next thing I know, I’ve pledged to spend one of my treasured three-day weekends in the wilderness.”
“I get it.”
Eddie looks over his shoulder at Jeff, who’s picked up the guitar again and started playing the intro to Electric Funeral. The feather pokes his ear now. “You do?”
“Yeah. I’m not into dudes, but he’s got this, like, guy-prettiness to him? I’d definitely agree to doing something stupid just ‘cause a hot chick suggested it.”
Eddie grunts in reply. Plucking the feather from the comforter, he starts pulling off the barbs while Jeff plays. Finishing the first verse, Jeff’s eyes flicker from the fret to meet Eddie’s.
“So, did you want survival advice?”
Eddie snorts. “Think I’m better off asking Wayne.”
“Hm, yeah. Or don’t. Play up the helpless angle, let Harrington be the big, manly hero who-”
“Jesus Christ, shut up.”
Jeff snickers. “Okay. Hey, are you nervous?”
Eddie rips the last barb off the shaft. The downy bits lie scattered on his thigh and, without them, the shaft looks unrecognizable. Almost alien. His head is cool, his breaths are slow, and his gut is housing a raging storm. He flicks the bare shaft across the room, shaking his head.
“Why would I be?”
— ⛺ — ⛺ — ⛺ —
La continuation
Tag list: @santasteve, @madaboutmunson
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weyrleaders · 3 months
Text
here have another one lol the fact that flirting with jax leads to the reveal that yall have been flirting back and forth for ages makes me want to scream in the woods at 3am so thank you for that @vapolis
i have no idea how the prosthetic eyes work so i took some liberties for the sake of what little plot there is
Aster has always preferred to work alone. At the end of the day, the only person you can really count on is yourself. So why risk relying on someone else when they won’t always be there?
That said, he does enjoy working with Jax. They may be acquaintances at best, but Aster does appreciate Jax’s work ethic. He doesn’t have to plan around Ray’s faux impulsivity, or Ray’s knack for wasting valuable time, or the odds that Ray will make a detour to fuck a stranger in an alley. Ray’s unwillingness to do whatever it takes to get results. Ray’s—
Aster sighs. The little fucker’s not even around and he’s still managing to get on Aster’s nerves. And Aster’s fairly certain why that is.
He glances over at Jax. He’s leaning against the ledge, peering down at the mansion below with one hand on his gun. They’ve been waiting for a few hours, but now the guests have started to arrive.
Aster keeps quadruple-checking his gear without taking his eyes off Jax.
“McClair?” He asks, just loud enough for Jax to hear, the first word either of them has spoken since they settled in to watch.
“Not yet,” Jax replies.
“Then we have a few minutes,” responds Aster. Both glocks are loaded and ready, holdout pistol secured in his right boot, holdout switchblade ready to be stashed in his left. It’s redundant to go over it all again. The third time was enough.
Jax is still looking down at the mansion, scanning the crowd as they head inside. It really is strange to see him out of his usual clothes, foregoing designer button-downs for nondescript street clothes. Which are probably also designer, to be fair. Aster wonders how many weapons he managed to fit in his coat.
“Can you please do me a favor and just fuck Ray already?” Aster asks, sliding his knife back into his boot after testing the sharpness.
Jax doesn’t startle easily, and he doesn’t visibly react beyond cutting his eyes over at Aster for a brief second.
“Excuse me?”
Aster sighs again.
“Our staff meetings—”
“It’s hardly a staff meeting with only four people,” Jax mutters under his breath.
“—are getting unbearable. I know you want him, and while I do have to question your taste—”
“You wore a denim jacket with jeans last week.”
“—I won’t judge you for it,” Aster continues. “Please, for all our sakes, take the bastard to bed and get it out of both of your systems.”
Because that’s how Ray operates. Almost always once, rarely ever twice, and Aster can count on one hand how many other hook-ups have become any sort of semi-permanent arrangement. Not because he cares or has any interest, but because Ray’s an over-sharer who never shuts up and Orla has specifically forbidden him from cutting Ray’s tongue out with the first piece of rusty silverware he can get his hands on. He even asked nicely.
Aster is going to lose no matter what, really. He doesn’t know anything about Jax’s sex life and would love for that particular status quo to remain. But having to sit through Ray’s little play-by-play of what they manage to get up to because they’re stuck in the same room would be worth not having to deal with the weird sexual tension that happens whenever Ray and Jax make eye contact across Orla’s desk. At least the detailed summary would only be once. The longing gazes are forever.
Jax glances over again and narrows his eyes before turning back to the mansion.
“How do you think I feel when you fall over yourself to agree with Orla on everything?”
“That’s different,” Aster hisses. “Of course I agree with her, she’s my boss. McClair?”
“I think that’s his car,” he reports. “She said you did well on that last job and you were practically drooling.”
“I was not—”
“As your coworker, I’m telling you—McClair’s here, we have two minutes—that it’s not going to end well.”
“Stop dodging my original point,” Aster says, keeping his tone very carefully flat as he stands. He makes his way to the edge of the roof where Jax is keeping watch just in time to see their target go inside.
Jax makes for the fire escape as Aster takes his original position at the ledge. As soon as Jax is out of sight, Aster taps their joint mission channel on his SocialLink to get his attention. Jax sends back an acknowledgment.
Aster watches the mansion for any sign of movement. His eyes are better, even if he can’t keep up the fancy tricks for long.  Jax is good, but he can’t be expected to watch the front door, the side entrances, and all the windows at the same time.
Jax tracks down McClair’s car once the valet leaves it unattended. It wouldn’t be fair to continue their discussion, since Jax can’t reply, so Aster just hangs back and lets him work. There’s a brief moment where a woman pauses by one of the windows, and Aster zooms in to watch her face and body language while taking mental notes of what she looks like in case they have to track her down later. But she doesn’t show any sign of alarm or confusion and wanders off after a moment, so Aster returns to his patrol.
McClair isn’t actually the target. They’re here for the prototype in his car. Aster doesn’t know what it is, exactly, just that it’s very valuable and very secret. And he’s selling it to Orla for a lot of money, which is in the small case that Jax is supposed to leave in place of the prototype.
It’s not as if McClair can safely meet with any of them without risking his reputation or job—and thus any more interesting toys he may be willing to part with later down the line—so he and Jax are once again on pickup detail. Aster does a lot of that, lately. Mostly because Ray has Orla convinced he lacks the patience for it and would likely fuck it up. Asshole.
“Done,” Jax reports in a hushed whisper.
Aster enhances his vision and hits the override for his eyes so they can move faster. Everyone is still inside and no one has lingered at the windows. The valet is still waiting by the door and hasn’t so much as glanced in the direction of the parking area. It’s still a very long couple of minutes until Aster hears Jax making his way back up the fire escape.
Aster closes his eyes and reverts their settings back to normal, massaging his temples. He’s going to be eating those black market headache meds Echo got for him like candy tonight.
“As I was saying,” Aster grates out, “watching the two of you dance around each other like school children is painful. You’re both adults. Stop making all of us suffer when you know he’s going to say yes before you even finish asking.”
“And as I was saying,” counters Jax, “you should really be careful about throwing those rocks from inside that glass house of yours.”
Aster sighs.
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lovelyglares · 10 months
Text
Cherries | pjm
Rockstar ! MC x hybrid! Jimin
Chapter Two: Road to Recovery
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Summary: Y/N has had a rough run. She’s known for living on the edge and never taking anything seriously but her music. Guys and Girls love her. People idolize her. She seems like the perfect girl. Gorgeous, talented, smart, but nobody is as perfect as they seem. She’s finally learned to have peace with her demons and find joy in life , but shes never felt whole. She has everything she’s ever wanted but what is missing? Who knew she’d find the answer when she finds an injured hybrid inside an alleyway just across the street from the club she performs at , after a long night at one of her concerts. Who knew how important they’d be to one another?
Warnings: Angst, Injuries, its starts with a rocky start but mellows out towards the end
Authors note: Hello everyone! Im glad to know everyone is enjoying the story so far! I have so much written for this story already that im excited to get out. Feedback is always welcomed! Enjoy! 💜
Prev / Next Chapter
Masterlist
Taglist: @tinkerbellmini
——————————————————————————
Y/N P.O.V:
I wrap the bandage around the sleepy hybrid’s last open wound on his leg with a huge exhale.
Thank goodness thats taken care of.
Jimin was in even worst shape then you first intentionally thought. It was too dark in the alleyway to get a proper diagnosis of how bad his injuries were but when you gave the hesitant hybrid a bath - after a ton of reassurance that it was only so i can properly treat him- you quickly realized just how bad the poor man really was.
The clear bath water quickly turned into an almost burnt burgundy color and alot of his injuries came to light. He had bruises across his back and torso , leading down to his knees. He has cuts and scars scattered all over his body, some worst than others that you minded to treat immediately after the bath , you could count way too many bones on him. You had to resist crying on multiple occasions, thankfully you found the hybrid just in time because if he got neglected much longer, he probably wouldn’t have made it very long and bled out on the street.
You had quickly but gently massaged shampoo into the hybrids scalp being mindful of the hybrids sensitive ears. You learned Jimin loves getting his hair washed and nearly cried when you removed your hands from his scalp. You gave him the soap to wash his body , letting him take care of that part which he shyly agrees, and did it in slow movements to be careful not to hurt himself. When he was done you helped him out the bath and helped him into a pair of your soft pajamas to wear once he was done.
After the rushed bath, you helped him walk towards your bed to sit on it so you could treat all his wounds , apologizing when the hybrid hisses and whines when you irritated the infected wounds with disinfectant medicine . You wipe the sweat off your forehead when your done with the last bandage and let out a huge sigh of relief.
“There we go! You’re clean and all nicely patched up. Now, would you like something to eat?” you ask as you gather all the supplies and towels spread out across the bed and put it all back in the first aid kit. You don’t hear a response and look at the quiet hybrid confused as to why he’s not answering you.
He’s staring at you in disbelief.
“Are you okay? Whats the matter?” you furrow your eyebrows, not sure what has the hybrid so flabbergasted. You see him take a shaky breath in and open his mouth-
“You nursed my cuts and now… you want to feed me?” he asks in shock , blinking quickly almost as if he doesn’t believe someone could possibly offer him food to eat after starving for so long. Realization struck you.
Instead of sadness and grief that you’ve become familiar with these past few hours, boiling hot anger burns through your veins. No not at the hybrid -never at the hybrid, but at the awful , monstrous people that tortured and starved this gentle person.
Jimin notices the shift in your demeanor and starts to shake in fear - worried to death that he made you mad for asking a question- and quickly moves away from your form to bow on the ground, silently crying inside at the pain of the sudden movement.
“I’m sorry for upsetting you! Please dont punish me, i-i promise i wont open my mouth again!” Jimin pleads into the ground at your feet.
Your anger vanishes as quickly as it came and all you feel is bewilderment. You breathe in and out a few times to slow your raising heart down and sadly exhale. You frown and kneel on the ground in front of the quietly weeping hybrid.
“Jimin, sit up for me.” you quietly demand the hybrid. The hybrid hesitates but listens to you and sits on his knees with his head down and eyes glued to the ground.
“Look me in the eyes , please.”
Jimin stiffens and slowly raises his eyes to meet yours. You hold your hand out waiting for him to give you his hand. He puts his shaking hand into yours and you lightly hold his hand between your two hands, caressing the skin.
“I sincerely apologize for momentarily getting angry there for a second but do know that im not mad at you. “ you say sincerely.
“I got so, so very angry because how can anyone dare hurt such a sweet and gentle person. I may not know you and we are strangers to one another but nobody - and i say this from my heart- deserves to be starved and beaten. While you are with me, I promise you that you are safe. Nobody will hurt you here. I will never punish you because you are your own person, and I have no right to punish you. You can move as freely as you want. If you want to raid and eat all the food in my fridge- go ahead! If you want to steal all my blankets and hog my TV all day than go right for it! If you want to sing as loudly as you want- than be my guest! I will probably join you! -“ you exclaim, emphasizing on certain phrases to get my point across with wild limbs moving in the air. You fail to notice the faint giggles coming from the amused hybrid ,whose fear had melted away as soon as you started on your tangent , and failed to realize him moving until you feel arms wrap tightly around your middle and a feel a fluffy head of hair shove itself in the crook of your neck which causes you to go still and quiet.
“Thank you.” Jimin says and gently rubs his face in your neck to scent you. You relax and wrap your arms around him and hold him tighter to your chest.
“Say, lets get some food in you now, yeah? I know you’re hungry and afterwards you can lay down and get some rest okay? “ you say and as soon and you do, the hybrids stomach growls -causing said hybrid to blush. You giggle and watch the hybrids ears flick and move at the sound. You detangle yourself from the hybrid with only slight difficulties and pat his head.
“I’ll take that as a yes. You wait here and ill bring you some of my famous and favorite ramen!” you demand with a bright smile on your face and rush out the room to prepare the hybrids food.
——————————————————————————
Jimin stares at the vacant spot on your floor where you just stood with his mouth dropped.
He’s never met a human like you before.
He’s never once heard of a human sharing their food or bathing their hybrid before. He’s never seen a human cry and get mad over a person of his species. He’s also never had a human apologize to him. To be fair, he hasn’t been around many humans beside past owners and human who work and shown up at the shelters he’s been in either. Although with that being said, he’s also never met someone so compassionate and caring before. He’s surely never felt so safe with someone before- let alone a human.
Earlier, Jimin was not scared of you hitting him when you were mad- oh no not at all, you’ve shown no signs of hurting him- he was terrified that he ruined his chances with getting help from the one and only nice human he’s ever met. You shown up like an angel, saving the broken hybrid and gave him something he’s never had before—- hope.
Hope is a dangerous thing to have in the hybrid world. Sure, hybrids have more rights today like being able to be independent and get jobs without a owner and its not as bad as it once was but hatred and prejudice is still booming as bad as it was before. Maybe even worst. There are still people who riot these new laws and who still believe hybrids are just animals who should be put in their places. Law enforcement and the government don’t do much to protect the hybrids and provides no protection towards stray hybrids.
He’s never felt like someones had his back before. He’s doesn’t know that to do in this situation and he’s almost afraid he actually died and this is heaven or he’s going to wake up at his old owners house and this all be a dream.
If this is a dream, please don’t wake me.
Jimin inhales the strong scent of cherries and cotton that cover every inch of the room and closes his eyes. He want to rolls and bask in the scent of your bedsheets and add his own sweet orange and citrusy scent to the comforter but holds back his urges and looks around to observe what he is sure is your room. He see paintings and photos of who he assumes are your friends or family on the wall, he sees old trophies and metals from sports you did in school and college, he sees a guitar and keyboard sitting in the corner of your bedroom right next to your window. He feels the soft blankets from under his palms and cant help himself when he instinctively starts to kneads into your comforter. Purrs irrupt out his body and he leans his body against your headboard. He closes his eyes and start to relax when he suddenly hears clinging noises and the door open.
Y/n strolls in with a steaming bowl and mug in her hands.
“Im back! Sorry it took a while! I ran out of some things so I had to make do with what I had so im hoping this taste good and I brought you some lavender tea to help you relax and get a restful sleep!” you say and sit right in front of the hybrid.
“Would you like my help feeding you or do you think you can do it yourself? We don’t want your wrist to be more sore but you are welcome to feed yourself if you’re uncomfortable or I can-“ you ramble but stop as Jimin put his hand on yours and guides the chopsticks to the bowl.
“Feed me.” He says and you dont waste a second or hesitate. You grab him some noodles and blow gently on them to cool it down and puts the chopsticks with the ramen on it in his open, waiting mouth, making sure to avoid getting any ramen broth on him. You repeat this process until Jimin cannot eat anymore and you’re pleased when you noticed majority of it was ate. By the time youre done, you noticed Jimin eyes start to close as he starts to doze off from the sleepy induced food coma on his way. You slightly smile and put his plate and dishes aside. You tried to gently adjust the male’s body into a more comfortable position and move the blankets out from under him to place over his body and tuck him in. You adjust the pillow under his head to make sure he doesn’t end up with a cramp in his neck from the awkward positioning and step away from the hybrid.
You reach under your lamp to turn it off and gather all the dirty dishes again. You head to the door and look back at the hybrid to see him already passed out in your bed, seeming the most peaceful you’ve seen him tonight. You smile to yourself and whisper a quiet ‘good night’ and head down towards the kitchen to clean up the remaining mess and work your way toward your living room to set your couch for bed. In the midst of all the craziness, you completely forgot to tell your friends you made it home safely. You curse and run to your phone to message them to see;
5 missed calls from Joonie 🧸
4 missed calls from HandsomeJinnie
10 messages from Hobah 🦊✨
12 messages from JK 🐰
4 messages from TaeTae
2 missed calls and voice mails from Yoons
9+ messages from ‘the Bang Idiots’
Well I am in for a rude awakening, you think as you open the groupchat to respond:
Y/N: guys, please dont kill me.
In a matter of seconds, you feel multiple vibrations from your phone.
HandsomeJinnie : L/N Y/N didn’t Namjoon tell you to tell us as soon as you get home to avoid aneurisms! Well guess what? You gave us all an aneurysm anyway!
Joonie 🧸: Are you okay? Why did it take you hours to get home?
TaeTae: Finally! I was about to track you down myself!
Yoons: I second that.
JK 🐰: Dont scare us like that, noona. We got really worried about you.
Y/N: Im sorry guys, i got held up with something but everything’s okay now!
Hobah 🦊✨: What holds you up at 4 in the morning?
Y/N: Heh, its a funny story actually that Im way too tired to explain right now but I will first thing when I see you guys. Just know I made it home safe and sound! 🥰
Joonie 🧸: We’ll let it go for now because its way too late to be having a conversation and we’re all tired but we’re glad and relieved to know your safe and can now all go to sleep in peace.
You all say your goodbyes and goodnights, not after getting a few scoldings before they go. You sigh and rest your head on your pillow and snuggle up in your blankets on the couch.
You reflect on the events that happened today; being late to work and almost late to the show, having an absolute blast performing, being absolutely drained after hours of singing to being quickly woken up and horrified by finding an injured and bloody hybrid-man in an alleyway, to taking the hybrid home and bathing and nursing him back to health and whose currently snoozing in your bed right now.
What an unexpected turn of events.
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moon-spirit-yue · 5 months
Text
Once Upon a Time, In a Land Far Away...
(So remember when I said I wouldn’t make an OUAT au? I was a liar. However, I am ending this fic after the first season or perhaps season two because ya girl can’t be writing all that. TW SMALL FIGHT SCENE IN THE BEGINNING ILL MAKE THE TW OBVIOUS!
READ THE NEW NAMES BECAUSE YOU WILL BE VERY CONFUSED IF YOU SKIP THIS! Raya’s Storybrooke name is Rose, Namaari’s is Natasha, Virana’s is Vanessa, Benja’s is just Ben, Sisu’s is Suki, Boun’s is Brian, Noi’s is Naomi, and Tong’s is Thomas. Please enjoy!)
“What the hell happened? I thought you managed to get lost or something,” Namaari hissed the second Raya came back into the room.
“It’s so much worse than we were hoping. Snow went into labor before they could finish the portal. The baby is being sent to this other world by herself,” Raya told her in a frenzied manner.
“Oh my god,” Namaari whispered, absolutely horrified.
“I just, I need to sit down,” Raya stated warily as she all but collapsed on the couch near the door.
Namaari shot up from the bed and rushed to Raya’s side. Just like she always does. Raya can always count on her.
“What does this mean?” Namaari asked worriedly.
“It means that Emma’s going to need to find a way to break the curse all on her own,” Raya sighed as she buried her face in her hands.
Namaari wrapped her arms around Raya and pulled her close. Immediately, Raya returned the embrace and squeezed tightly. 
The Heart woman never wants to let go of her. Namaari. Her wife. But now she doesn’t have a choice.
When the Evil Queen threatened Snow White and Prince Charming on their wedding day, everyone was on edge. The Evil Queen does many things, but make empty threats are not one of them.
Snow knew the only way to guarantee the safety of the kingdom and her unborn child was to consult with Rumplestiltskin. Then they discovered that Snow White and Prince David’s daughter would be some magical curse breaker for them all. The original goal was to put Snow in the tree trunk so that she could raise the little princess curse free due, to the fact that there’s only enough magic to send one person. They just couldn’t make the tree fast enough. 
“I can’t believe this. I run from Druun for six years, and now it’s all ruined because some bitch who’s in an eternal battle with her step daughter wants to even the score,” Raya spat.
She had to be angry. If she wasn’t enveloped in rage, she’d breakdown in tears, which wasn’t very appealing at the moment.
“Look, we’ve been through a hell of a lot in our lifetime, and we will get through this too,” Namaari assured her.
“I don’t understand how you could possibly be so confident about that. We’re putting our hopes, our lives, in the tiny hands of a baby that hasn’t even been alive for a full day. That’s too much of a burden for anyone to bear,” Raya huffed. She speaks from personal experience, after all. 
“I know it is, but Rumplestiltskin already prophesied this all from the beginning. Which means that as long as Emma can escape, we've all got a chance," Namaari assured her.
Raya sighed and took a glance at the window. She has no idea where this curse is going to take them. Nobody does. They're at an utter disadvantage. The most information Raya's gotten from it is that everyone's memory is going to be wiped.
“I’m sorry I’m being so negative about this. You’re going to be cursed too, I should at least be attempting to comfort you,” Raya sighed, feeling so utterly defeated. “I just have no idea how we can make it past this.”
“Hey, you’re the most hopeful woman I’ve ever met. I mean, you hoped for six years that a dragon could bring your father back, and you were right. You hoped for all of a Kumandra. I can hope for us both right now. That’s what marriage is. Helping each other when the other is struggling,” Namaari told her. 
Toi, Raya is so in love. She didn’t know it was possible to feel so much adoration for one person until Namaari. The Heart princess simply gave her wife a kiss. One that Namaari immediately returned.
“I’m going to miss this. Something tells me that in this cursed land, we won’t be newly weds,” Raya sighed, pulling Namaari in for a hug.
“You might be right about our marital status, but I’ll still be in love with you. I always have been, and I always will be. There are some things not even magic can change,” the Fang princess said in a soft, comforting voice. 
“Yeah? Well if someone as lame as you can manage to love me in a cursed land, I bet I can love you so much more. Because, you know, I’m a lot cooler than you are,” Raya mumbled, trying not to cry her eyes out. 
“As if. I’ll love you so much in this cursed land, you’ll be embarrassed at how lacking you were when the curse gets lifted,” she heard Namaari huff out.
“You know what? If you can somehow manage to get Rumplestiltskin off my back in the cursed land, I just might agree,” Raya snorted.
“Please. That guy’s like three feet tall. I can totally get him to back off from you in the new world. If I have to keep Rumplestiltskin away, then you have to help me deal with my mother. I bet she’s going to be especially difficult in the cursed land,” Namaari scoffed. 
“I think we have ourselves a deal, binturi,” Raya giggled.
At that moment, David rushed into the room and quickly closed the door behind her. He was holding Emma in one arm and his sword in the other.
"My god, what the hell's happening out there?" Raya blurted as she and Namaari both stood up from the couch.
"The queen's guards. They infiltrated the castle. They're...there's so much more than just me. I don't know how I'll get past them all," the prince rambled while trying to catch his breathe.
"In and out David, in and out. Look, we've got your back. Raya and I will have gladly go out there to offer some backup," Namaari assured him.
"I can't ask you to do that," David said, trying to shoot the idea down.
"Hey, your fate isn't the only one that depends on getting her to this other world before the curse does. Besides, it's been a while since I've had a good fight," Raya smirked, trying to not panic at whatever was beyond those two doors.
"Hey, we sparred four days ago," Namaari reminded her with a frown.
"I know what I said," Raya grinned, feeling her nerves ease little bit more. It's like just looking at her wife is good for her health.
"Okay, less flirting, more preparing for battle," David reminded them.
"That's fair," Raya conceded as she grabbed her sword.
Namaari did the same. They never did go anywhere without a sword. That probably says something about themselves.
"Alright. We're good," Namaari nodded.
"Pause. I want a kiss for good luck," Raya told her.
Though no one was willing to say it outloud, they all knew that it was very possible this could be the last time any of them see each other. That's probably why David had no objection when Namaari used her free hand to cradle Raya's face and give her a deep kiss. Raya decided she liked that kiss so much that there was no way it'd be their last.
"I love you," Raya smiled as her wife pulled away.
"I love you too," Namaari whispered fondly.
Then a loud crash resounded from the outside, causing the trio to face the door with a deathly grip on their swords. When they decided no one would be breaking in, Raya and Namaari stepped out in front of David to take on whatever battle awaited them.
There were six guards at the end of the hall. They didn't look like they had a clue where they were going. Raya's pretty damn sure she could take these guys, especially with her badass wife beside her.
"Go ahead David, we'll hold them off," Namaari told him.
"Dep la, I was going to say that! Can you read my mind?" Raya grinned.
"I just know you too well, my love," Namaari responded with a small smile of her own.
"Thank you, I'm eternally in debt to the both of you. And for god's sake, focus on the fight instead of flirting!" the prince exclaimed before rushing off to send Emma into the wardrobe.
"Tell Emma Auntie Raya and Auntie Namaari love her!" Raya yelled as David sprinted away.
(TW WARNING START)
Okay, the Queen's armed forces were now right in front of them. No biggie. The first guy that came up to her was a cinch to beat. A solid kick in the chest made him slam against the wall and knock the guy out cold. Poor bastard must have been new.
Namaari was dealing with her own trio of guards as the remaining two ganged up on the Heart woman. They were fast, but clumsy. One guard managed to nick Raya's eyebrow and nose bridge. While it wasn't going to do any lasting damage, it'd certainly leave a mark. The force of their hits meeting air kept them off balance enough to give Raya a chance to swipe back.
She checked the corner of her eye to make sure Namaar was doing well and of course, she's beating their asses. After a couple good stabs through skin, Namaari knocked the other three off thier feet.
Raya had managed to stab the last guy in the leg when his guard was down. Hah. These guys are really bad fighters. Then she heard Namaari groan.
"Hey, do you think that," Namaari began, before she lunged herself at Raya.
A Queen's guard jumped out of the shadows and came hurtling to Raya when her back was turned. Namaari was able to interfere, but the guard just moved the blade the side and sliced Namaari's arm clean off. Raya's wife collapsed to the floor, crying from pure agony.
With absolutely zero hesitation, Raya raised her sword and pummeled it straight through the guard's heart. He was dead before he hit the floor.
Then left nothing for Raya to focus on except for her wife. She quickly took off her waist band and firmly tied it around the edge of the spot where the arm was cut off to prevent further blood loss. She's honestly not sure how she did it with her tears blurring her vision.
Once the band was tight enough, Raya moved Namaari so that her head was resting on Raya's lap. The screaming had stopped, there was only a pained whimper was coming from her now.
(TW WARNING STOP)
"Hey, hey, hey, look at me. Namaari, you have to stay awake, do you understand me? If I have to live through this stupid curse, then so do you!" Raya sobbed.
This can't be happened. They've been married for what, a month? It didn't matter that there was a curse or everyone would be miserable, Raya wanted to be cursed and miserable with Namaari. For the rest of their lives. One month is not enough.
"You're...so bossy. Even now," Namaari mustered out.
Raya couldn't hold back the extra tears seeing Namaari in so much pain from such a simple sentence. She's trying so hard to stay awake.
"Thanks for the defense back there. That guy totally would have sliced right through my heart if you hadn't done anything," Raya whispered, tears still stubbornly streaming down her face.
"I know. I'd rather lose an arm than lose you," Namaari said.
"I wish you didn't have to lose one at all," Raya told her honestly.
"Will you still love me even if I only have one arm?" Namaari blurted.
God, how stupid is this woman?
"That may have been the most ridiculous shit you've ever said in your entire life, Namaari. Of course I'll love you without the arm. Besides, you've seen what dragon magic can do with those metal arms. Once this curse business is settled, you can get a magical metal arm and you're gonna look so badass," Raya choked out with a small smile on her lips.
"You think I'd look hot with a metal arm?" Namaari grinned.
Even though the reason why is so painfully stupid, Raya's just happy to see that smile.
"Duh. I think you'd look hot with anything. Do you think I'll look hot with the eyebrow and nose scar? The wounds are kind of deep," Raya sniffled.
"You're always hot. The scars will add to it. I wanna kiss them when they're healed," Namaari mumbled, seeming to drift off.
"Aye! Stay with me, One Armed Wonder!" Raya snapped.
"Did you just call me One Armed Wonder?" Namaari mumbled incredulously.
"Too soon?" Raya sheepishly asked.
"I want that engraved on my metal arm," Namaari decided with a giggle.
Raya laughed a bit too. It's so hard to laugh knowing that the love of her life is in so much pain and there's nothing she can do about it.
The ground began to shake. Raya looked out the window to see the black and green fog slowly take over the whole kingdom.
"It's coming," was all Raya managed to say.
"Kiss me," Namaari said.
And how can Raya say no to that?
Raya leaned down and pressed a soft but firm kiss on Namaari's lips. She's feels so safe in the kiss. Even when the world is ending. No one's ever made Raya feel the way Namaari does. No one else ever will.
Raya gently broke away and gasped as the shaking grew more intense. Raya leaned over Namaari in order to protect her body from any more potential injury.
"I love you," Raya yelled as the fog approached.
"Love...," Namaari trailed off.
She was way too weak. It was a miracle the Fang warrior lasted this long. But that's okay, Raya doesn't need her to say it out load to know she means it.
All she could do was hold her wife tightly as they were swept into a land where they were never married in the first place.
************************
(27 years later)
Roseline Heart woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Literally. There’s a spot on the mattress that has the spring sticking out because of how old it is and it ended up cutting Rose’s cheek. Now there’s a thin trail of blood coming from her face. Fantastic.
Groggily, Rose helplessly grabbed around for her glasses and shuffled to the bathroom. She’s pretty sure this is where the bandaids are. After actually putting on the glasses, success was Rose’s as she managed to get her hands the hello kitty band aid box. After cleaning up the cut as best as she could, she put her bright pink band aid on and headed out to the kitchen.
“Morning Sunshine! How’s-” Suki began before noticing bright ass bandaid on Rose’s face. “Okay, seriously, you gotta replace that mattress. Someone’s gonna call the sheriff on me for domestic violence if you keep this up!”
“Someone’s dramatic. I just forgot to put a thick pillow over it like usual. No big deal,” Rose said with a dismissive flick of the wrist.
“It feels like you never remember the pillow. Besides, you've already got a couple scars on your face. No reason to add on another,” Suki huffs while handing her an apple.
“Aye, don’t sass the hand that’s gonna be dying your hair blue tonight,” Rose warned. 
Suki simply stuck her tongue out at her and began rummaging through the cabinets to find some of her cereal. 
Suddenly a loud, obnoxious knocking at their door caused both girls to groan.
“You get the door, I’ll get the checkbook,” Rose said in defeat.
“You got it, bestie,” Suki huffed while headed to the door. 
Rose heard the door open as Suki made idle chit chat with their intrud- guest. Beloved landlord. She found the checkbook resting on her living room couch. Rose grabbed a pen, wrote out her check, and tore it off the booklet. 
“Mr. Gold. What a joy it is to see your wrinkly face so early in the morning,” Rose deadpanned.
“You’ve always known how to charm a man, haven’t you?” Gold mocked.
“Considering the fact that I’m a lesbian, I really hope not,” Rose grumbled while handing him the check. 
Mr. Gold examined it, front and back, before deciding it was sufficient.
“Well, everything seems to be in order. As per usual,” Mr. Gold spat. “I’ll leave you girls to your morning, then. Ms. Datu, I’ll be expecting your half of the rent on the first,” Mr Gold told her.
“And that is when you will receive, sir,” Suki said with an uncomfortable polite smile.
“Wonderful. I’ll be off then. Have an excellent day, Dearie,” Mr. Gold smirked. 
With that, he walked right of their apartment without bothering to close the door. Rose scowled and slammed the door shut. God, she wanted to take that cane from his hand and bash his face in with it. 
Will Rose ever understand what Gold’s problem is with her? No. No she will not. Rose just doesn’t get it! She’s an excellent tenant. She’s never been late for a payment. Not once. Hell, sometimes she gives Sisu extra cash in case she falls short with her rent money.
Yet somehow, Mr. Gold is never satisfied with her stellar reputation. In fact, he seems to be quite irritated whenever Rose manages to deliver the rent. Which is every time he asks for it. In simpler words, Mr. Gold is always pissed at Rose and there is nothing she can do about it. Rose wins none and loses all.
It used to make woman want to rip her hair out from pure frustration. Here she is, always giving rent when she needs to and she smells like flowers all the time! What more could a landlord want?! 
It wouldn’t be such an issue if he treated everyone else like this. But he doesn’t. Of course, just like any other landlord, he expects his tenants to pay rent on time and he tends to be a no nonsense kind of guy. But Mr. Gold’s willing to negotiate with others. He’s fine with coming to a compromise of some sort. But if Rose were to have issues?
She’d be on the streets faster than you can say ‘what a jackass’.
It’s not like there’s anything Rose can do about it, either. The only person that could match up to Mr. Gold in the realm of power in this town is Regina Mills, the mayor. Unfortunately, Mr. Gold has some sort of in with Mayor Mills, so Rose is totally screwed. 
But, well, Rose has accepted her status as Gold Enemy Number One. Nothing she can do about it now.
“God, I hate that guy. Why the hell can’t he just lay off your back?” Suki scowled. 
“Question of the century, truly. Think you can pick up some fruit while after work? Seems like we’re running low,” Rose asked her roommate.
“Got it. You better get dressed girl, aren’t you opening the store today?” Suki asked.
“Yeah, I need to move it,” Rose sighed while rushing into her room to get ready. 
Rose hastily put on a green long sleeve shirt and blue jeans that were way too big for her, held up by a dark brown belt. She flew in and out of the bathroom in record time. Once she grabbed her satchel like bag, she was ready for work. 
“Have fun, don’t hurt yourself!” Suki yelled as Rose put on her beat up sneakers. 
“If anyone’s gonna hurt themselves today, it’s you. See you later!” Rose yelled as she exited the apartment. 
Speed walking out of the building, Rose was so lost in her own world that she almost didn’t comprehend the fact that she nearly torpedoed into Mary Margaret. 
“Crap, sorry! I had a late start today,” Rose apologetically stated.
“Oh it’s no problem, Rose. You know, I was actually hoping I would run into you today. I’ll be super quick, I promise,” Mary Margaret said. 
“Yeah, for sure. What’s up?” Rose asked.
“Would you be able to tutor a kid in my class? His name is Henry, same age as Naomi, and he’s a really great kid. He’s just going through a bit of a hard time. He’s also a very quick study, the only reason why his grades have been slipping is because he lacks focus. His mother insisted on him getting a tutor and she has every intention of paying you. I only ask because of how great you are with Naomi and how much her grades improved after your tutoring,” Mary Margaret pleaded.
Huh. Rose really can't remember much of Namoi's progress. Well, Mary Margaret is her friend and a little extra cash couldn’t hurt. Besides, if she can help a kid out what’s the harm?
“That can work. I’m free after 4:30 on Mondays and Wednesdays, does that work out?” Rose asked. 
“Oh that’ll be perfect! I can not thank you enough! Think it can start today?” Mary Margaret asked with hopeful eyes.
Rose frowned and checked her phone to come to the discovery that today is, in fact, Wednesday. Shit, all the days blend together.
“I can do that, I just need to text Suki that I’ll be home late,” Rose responded. 
“You are seriously saving my life, thank you. Okay, meet me at Granny’s Diner at about 4:45 so that you two can get started,” Mary Margaret informed her.
“Granny’s at 4:45, on it. Alright, I gotta scatter before Moe has my head. See you later, Mary!” Rose yelled as she began a light jog to her car.
“Bye Rose! Thanks again!” Mary Margaret yelled.
Rose smiled and waved as she continued her jogging pace. The moment she got into her car, the pedal was to metal. Though she may have broke a couple speeding laws, Rose made it to work a whole two minutes early. 
Once she hopped out of her car that should have been thrown the in the dump years ago, Rose opened the door to her beloved place of work. 
Game of Thorns is her happy place. Surrounded by the soothing aromas of tulips and lilies, arranging the flowers to compliment each, and just staring at all the plants gives Rose a sense of peace. Besides, since the owner Moe French hates Mr. Gold, the old snake can’t set foot in this place. Here, Rose has solace. 
Mostly.
There is, of course, the fact that Natasha Fang is one of the shop’s biggest customers. 
The name Natasha is very fitting. Similarly to a gnat, Natasha does everything in her power to be as big of a nuisance to Rose as possible. The name quite literally speaks for itself.
Unfortunately, that would be very bad for business. The shop could just get rid of every single customer except for Natasha and they would still be kept afloat. She always orders in bulk and tips well, which is the only good thing Rose can say about her. 
Natasha is just so.....awful! Rose will never forgive how that woman betrayed her. Natasha and her stupid undercut can take a long walk off a short pier. 
“Rose, how are you on this fine morning?” Moe French asked as he walked through the door. That’s one way to snap Rose out of her thoughts.
“Morning Moe. I’m okay. I got my daily dose of Gold today, which was super fun for me,” Rose huffed as she set up the register.
“Ugh, that old bastard has no business harassing you! So what if he’s your landlord? He still has a job to treat his tenants with basic respect!” Moe rambled as he began to reorganize the flowers. 
“You are preaching to the choir, my friend,” Rose sighed. 
The two worked quietly together in order to set up the space for opening. Only a couple of customers came in the shop before Rose saw an unnecessarily flashy sports car parked right in front of the shop.
“The gnat is flying in!” Moe hissed when he also noticed this specific car.
Rose quickly retreated to the back room. It’s their fun little code word for saying that Natasha, the worst person ever, was entering the shop. Moe and the rest of Rose’s coworkers all understood the complicated dynamic between the two girls. Said dynamic being Natasha tries aggravating Rose at every possible opportunity while Rose does everything in her power to avoid her.
Rose is very grateful that her colleagues had her back and were willing to talk to Natasha instead. Does Rose realize that it's petty and childish to run from her problem? Yeah. But it works and gives Rose a better peace of mind.
"Mr. French, good to see you today," Rose heard Natasha say as she walked into the shop.
"Ms. Fang! And you as well. What can I do for you?" her boss asked.
"I'll need the usual, please. Carnations instead of peonies this time, though. One of our clients is obsessed with peonies so I'm trying to play to my audience. If you guys can help deliver them this Friday, that would be great," Natasha informed him. (Probably with her stupid fake smile.)
"Of course we can! Come on, I'll ring you up!" Moe excitedly stated as the footsteps got closer.
Ugh, Rose wishes Moe could be as anti Natasha as he was anti Gold. The girl does drop a lot of cash for this store at his core, Moe French is a business man. Rose knew this business would not be half as good without Natasha's participation. Doesn't mean she had to like it, though.
"Thank you for your business!" Moe said. Rose could practically hear the smile in his voice.
"Of course, Mr. French. I'll see you on Friday, Heart," Natasha said with way too much glee.
Though no one could see it, Rose scowled. She worked full time. When the shop is open, Rose is working. Of course Natasha knows that.
The young florist waited until she heard the door close before reentering the main part of the shop.
"I wanna punch her in her stupid face," Rose blatantly stated when she excited the room.
"All she'd need to is grab you with her prosthetic arm and it'd be over for you," Moe reminded her.
"Well I would have made the experience very stressful for her," Rose grumbled as she got back to work.
"I'm sure you would have, Rose," Moe nodded.
Rose internally groaned and mentally prepared herself for this Friday. Even it's only two days away, she needs all the help she can get. Rose is positive she doesn't work at the only flower shop in the world, so why can't Natasha go to literally any other?
It doesn't even matter. Rose is just going to do what she always does. Talk to Thomas exclusively, hide behind the flowers whenever Natasha's in eyesight, and teleport out there before any interaction can occur. It's in everyone's best interest.
The day droned on as usual. Moe decided to close up shop today, so Rose was able to get to Granny's Diner a tad earlier than expected. She saw Mary Margaret already at the diner, which was very convenient.
Rose walked up to the table where she was sitting and saw the kid also sitting with Mary Margaret. Huh, so the whole gang is here.
She was about to introduce herself when she caught sight of the woman sitting next to Henry. Can anyone explain why the ever loving fuck the mayor is sitting next to this little boy?
Rose gave the teacher a look and jutted her head to the side which is the nonverbal cue of 'get the hell over here right now'.
Mary Margaret, being used to Rose, knew what she was getting at walked over to greet her.
“Mary,” Rose said in an eerily calm tone.
“Yes, Rose?” Mary Margaret asked in a meek voice.
“Please do not tell me that Henry’s last name is Mills,” Rose hissed.
“Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t honest before, but he really needs the help and I was worried you’d judge him before meeting him!” the teacher exclaimed.
“I’m not judging him, I’m judging whether or not I’ll be able to even live in Storybrooke!” Rose snapped. “I can not afford to make this kid upset, Mary. I’ve already got Gold on my back for, I don’t know, breathing! If I manage to get on Mayor Mills’ bad side, I will quite literally have no choice but to leave town!”
“Rose, please, he’s not that kind of kid. Besides, one of the things he’s been struggling with is the relationship with his mother. Just give it a shot. One day trial. If you really think you can’t do it, then fine. But please, just try,” Mary Margaret begged.
Rose sighed at the kid that seemed absolutely miserable sitting next to his own mother. Just looking at him, Rose does feel bad for the little guy. And it’s not like Rose has anything better to do on a Wednesday afternoon...
“Fine. One day,” Rose agreed. 
“You are a god send! Okay, get ready to meet the family!” Mary Margaret whispered as she tugged on Rose’s arm. “Mayor Mills! Henry! Here’s this fantastic tutor I was telling you guys about.”
Madame Mayor looked Rose up and down, examining her like she’s trying to decide whether she’s worthy of being in her and her son’s presence. 
“Regina Mills. This is my son, Henry. Thank you for taking time out of your day to help him,” the mayor said in a drawled sort of voice. Then, Mayor Mills stuck her hand out to shake. 
“Roseline Heart. Everyone calls me Rose. It’s a pleasure to make both of your acquaintances,” Rose said with a polite smile. 
Rose then stuck her own arm out to shake. When she made contact with the mayor’s hand, Rose felt a vice like grip in the handshake. But she would not be the one to back down. As previously stated, she really can’t afford to. 
“Firm handshake. Wonderful,” the mayor said as she let go with smile. 
Rose isn’t sure exactly what kind of smile the mayor’s flashing, but she knows for a fact it’s not a genuine one. 
“Well, with that I will be off. The job of Mayor never stops. Behave Henry. I love you. And for heaven’s sake, actually pay attention to what she says please,” the Mayor told her son. 
After planting a quick kiss on her son’s forehead, the mayor was off. Probably to make an innocent man cry. 
Rose stared at Henry. Henry stared right back. 
“So. You wanna play go fish and every time you lose, we have to actually focus on your school work?”
At the prospect of a game, the boy’s eyes lit up with excitement. 
“Uh, yeah!” he grinned as Rose brought out a deck of cards to shuffle.
It may seem stupid, but it works. Rose challenges Naomi to a battle of go fish all the time when she needs to get work done. The ability to make homework fun tends to make kids more inclined to comply. 
Rose decided that she likes Henry after his mother picked him up. Mary Maragaret’s probably right. Just a good kid with a rough relationship with his mom, likely due to her job. 
There’s just one more stop to Rose’s journey before heading home.
Rose took slow steps to Storybrooke’s general hospital where she briefly passed by Dr. Whale. After a quick greeting to the physician, she entered the hallway where the patients reside.
Calmly, Rose sat at the chair right at her father’s bedside. Without saying a word, Rose held his hand stared at his expressionless face.
God, what she wouldn’t give for just one expression to overcome her father’s face. Rose’s father has been comatose for who even knows how long. Dr. Whale insists there’s hope, but that may just be his way of sustaining his paycheck. 
She wants her father back. More than anything, Rose wants her father to open his eyes. 
But just like every single day before, Ben Heart does not open his eyes. He lays on the bed, still as a statue as he always does. Nothing has changed.
Rose mustered up the courage to tell her father about her day because maybe, just maybe, he’s listening. Once there was nothing more to say, she got up to drive back home.
As she left her father’s room, she looked to the side and saw yet another face that has yet to move. John Doe, he’s been in a comatose state for about as long as her father as, and no one’s ever claimed him. Talk about a bad break. 
Rose figured it’d be best to leave before she gets too wrapped up in all the depressing thoughts. She managed to get home in one piece where Suki is waiting for her.
“Hey bestie! How’s your day?” Suki asked.
“The Henry kid is nice. I’ll continue tutoring him. Other than that, you know how my day went. Same as every other day.”
************************
(one year later)
Rose was scrolling through instagram on her phone, waiting for Henry to show up at Granny’s like usual. The kid was running late, which really isn’t like him. Rose contemplated calling him before the young boy burst through the doors.
“Hey Rose!” Henry exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement.
Rose had to say, she’s surprised. She’s never seen Henry so....happy? Vibrant? Not utterly depressed?
“Hi Henry! What’s got you looking so positively gleeful after a long day of school?” Rose smiled.
“I’m not sure you can handle it,” Henry shrugged.
“Uh, I absolutely can,” Rose interjected. 
“Whatever you say. Just know I won’t be offended when you won’t believe a word I say,” Henry sighed.
With that, the little nine year old boy plopped a thick leather book on the table. It was definitely old and had beautiful golden lettering with the words ‘once upon a time’ written on it.
“Oooo, fairytales? I loved this stuff as a kid. What about this is unbelievable?” Rose asked.
“I know this going to be a lot to digest and like I said, you won’t have to believe me. Have you ever wondered why the clock never moves? Why you can’t seem to remember just about anything from their past? Why no one ever leaves this town?” Henry inquired mysteriously. 
“Uh, one is that your mother never hires anyone to fix the clock, two is just an age issue, and three is because we’re all too lazy or like this town,” Rose explained.
“All of your answers are incorrect! It’s actually because this whole town is cursed!” the young boy whispered.
Rose blinked once. Twice. Three times.
“Okay, I realize I’m not exactly in the height of my life right now, but I wouldn’t say I’m cursed,” Rose laughed.
“It’s not just you, it’s everyone in this town! They’re all characters in this book. You all just can’t remember anything and time doesn’t move,” Henry explained.
Now Rose wasn’t entirely sure to handle this. What Henry was saying is clearly some fantasy to cope with whatever issues he’s dealing with at home. 
“Look, Henry,” Rose began. 
“Just wait. Let me ask you something. Do you remember why exactly you hate Natasha? Do you remember who gave you that dragon pendant? Or the ring on your right hand? Can you remember how you met Suki? Or Ms. Blanchard?” Henry asked, quickly following one question after another.
“Well, Natasha betrayed me. When were kids. Yeah we were young, but she clearly lacks remorse,” Rose said.
Though she didn’t want to admit it, Rose only addressed the first question because it was the only question where she was certain of her answer.
“But what actually happened? What did Natasha do to betray you?” Henry pressed.
Now Rose had to admit, the details are.....fuzzy. Rose can say beyond the shadow of a doubt that Natasha is a traitorous snake that should be avoided at all costs.
But honestly? She doesn’t remember exactly what occurred during this awful betrayal. The person who gave her the ring and pendant were important to Rose. She’s kind of sure of that. Rose is also pretty sure whoever gifted her those items were from the same person. However, Rose isn't entirely sure who this person is. She thinks they were gifts from a relative.
The gold dragon pendant with a bright blue gem in the middle went matched well with gold band of the ring that also has a bright blue circular gem in the center. Little diamonds run along the band making it the most beautiful and valuable thing Rose owns.
“I have a terrible memory, Henry. Anyone that knows me can attest to that. So what if I can’t remember the exact bits of what Natasha did? Or who gave me jewelry? Or how I met my friends? Having the memory of a goldfish don’t mean there’s a curse,” Rose tried to remind him.
“I get why you don’t believe me. After all, you got wronged by a lot of people which made you very cautious and untrusting,” Henry sighed, looking incredibly disappointed.
Rose frowned at seeing the boy so dejected. She tried to think of a way to cheer him up without lying and saying she believed him.
“If you’re so intent on the idea everyone in this town is a story book character, who am I?” Rose asked just to humor him.
At this, Henry’s eyes lightened up. He opened the book and flipped to a page in big, fancy letters that read out to be ‘Raya and the Last Dragon’. 
“This is your story. You’re Raya, untrusting heroine that has to learn to have faith in order to get her happy ending. In the book, after Namaari betrays you, you have to find the almighty dragon Sisu in order to return everyone from stone. Then Namaari proves herself by risking her life to save you and everyone else in Kumandra. After that, you two spent a lot of time together reuniting the five lands and eventually you two fall in love and get married! You were only married for a few weeks before the curse hit,” Henry informed her.
“Huh. Well, at least my story book life has a happily ever after before this supposed curse,” Rose huffed. “Wait, so who do you think Suki is? And Mary Margaret? Oh, you have to tell me who you think your mom is!”
“Suki is Sisu, the dragon that helped you save the world. Mary Margaret’s Snow White and my mom, well...,” Henry sighed, clearly hesitant to speak. “She’s the Evil Queen.”
Well this theory is most certainly going to drive an even bigger wedge between Henry and his mom than before. Though Rose has to admit, she finds the concept of Suki being a dragon very amusing.
“Wow. That...is a lot of information you dropped on me,” was all Rose could say after that.
“Yeah, I know,” Henry nodded. 
“Alright, I’m still not quite convinced that everyone in this town is a cursed fairytale character and you’re fine with that. So I just have one last question for you,” Rose told him.
“Lay it on me,” Henry nodded.
“Who’s my wife? You know, the girl that’s really Namaari but got cursed and is now not my wife. According to you, because I am doubtful,” Rose grinned.
“You’re not gonna like my answer,” Henry admitted sheepishly.
“Oh no. Who is it?” Rose asked, weirdly afraid of who he was going to say. 
“It’s Natasha Fang. She’s your wife before the curse,” Henry informed her. 
“I want a new one,” Rose demanded. 
“What,” Henry deadpanned. 
“I said I want a new one. Natasha Fang can’t to be my wife, she sucks! So pick a different one,” Rose told him. 
“I can’t just pick a different one, it’s who you married! You chose Natasha! She chose you! It already happened, there’s no take backsies!” Henry glared.
“Um, excuse you, if you get to tell me my entire life is one big curse, then I get to have a better wife! What about that girl who works at the electric company? She’s cute and she always gives me a discount whenever she needs to fix up my apartment! Make her my wife instead,” Rose whined childishly.
“That’s not- you know what? There’s no point in arguing with you. If there’s any hope of saving you and everyone else in this town, I need cold hard proof,” Henry sighed. 
“.............................are you sure cute electrician girl can’t be my wife?”
“Yes, Rose. I am sure. Cute electrician girl is not and will never be your wife. Deal with it.”
“............................rude.”
18 notes · View notes
lillylvjy · 6 months
Note
nsfw wilma thoughts it is! (i have quite a few headcannons so please bear with me incase this gets super long)
- is either a pillow princess or the biggest service top you’ve ever met in your life
- has fantasies about using a strap (giving and receiving, receiving mostly) but she’s too nervous to bring it up
- goes weak if you kiss just below her earlobe, it’s the quick fire shortcut to turning her on
- loves nicknames like princess, sunshine, flower but you call her angel and the wholesome dynamic she has will flip 180 and you will get topped SO hard
- loves loves loves receiving praise, if you tell her that she makes you feel so good or that she’s a good girl, she gets close so quickly
- has a soft spot for waking you up by eating you out in her bed in the cottage because the rising sunlight hits your tits just right (an image in her head for a new painting later)
- sometimes uses a paintbrush to tease you by trailing it down the length of your back and up the inside of your thighs
- when she tops you, she loves lightly choking you to see your eyes roll back and hear you gasp but, to her, nothing is more rewarding than feeling you try and brush up into her hand when she strokes your hair
- has the prettiest, most aesthetic small collection of toys that she was really nervous to show you but had no reason to be nervous because once you saw the look on her face when you used the small rose quartz dildo on her, you couldn’t stop using them
- doesn’t seem like she would be into it but uses orgasm denial leading into overstim when she finally allows you to cum a LOT
- would love to have sex with you in her private gallery
- she’s so quiet, barely a moan escapes those lips but her little whimpers and whines are just so cute
I- this took me so long to get too but I’m not mad at all- I love this women with my whole life-
Minorssssss- no. I am hissing at you like a cat.
Ngl I see both- like I find her to be more of a pillow princess personally but if she really felt like it, she would immediately be on top of you in seconds. She wants to return the favor!
Ugh! Yes yes! No because she wouldn’t bring it up, but she’d leave you clues for it. Like maybe an ad for one pops up on your phone and she’s like “hmm that looks nice.” Or maybe she’ll start talking about new things you guys could try. She wants you to catch on so badly-
No because I imagine she’s painting and you kiss her there as a greeting, not fully aware of where it was and immediately seeing her freeze up and let out a small whine- lord… afab wilma and eating her out while she paints is… yes. Now same thing with mtf Wilma- like- sucking her off….. sign me up.
No because Angel is what she is. And also! If that makes her top you hard, than I want to say darling turns her into a subby mess real quick
She only deserves praise. Idgaf about anyone else’s opinions, if anyone says anything mean to this beautiful women I will hurt them. No but just a simple “good girl, keep going.” Has her whining and squirming. And it can be in any situation, if it’s from you it counts.
Bro- I don’t think you know how many times I’ve thought about that- just her moving the covers away from your body, fully exposing you, mentally taking so many pictures of the light hitting your body just the right way before she stays to kiss up your thighs to finally placing a kiss on your clit than going to work. And when she finally hears that small gasp you let out and a hand snake down to her hair, she’s smiling so big as she looks up at you- and you bet that painting will be one of her best.
Oml- now and when you start to squirm and plead for her, she just smiles at the control she has in the moment and uses it to her advantage. Kissing all over your body as she runs her hands everywhere she can-
She can put her hand around my neck anyday. But she loves the little gasp and moan you met out when she lightly squeezes your throat too like- lord she thrives off of it. No but also when you try to brush up into her hand, she’s cooing so fondly at you and praising tf out of you.
I- do I even have to say anything for this one because yes. She looks gorgeous anytime obviously but just the way she reacts to every movement and shit is so- lord I love her.
Ok but I see it- she’s do it every once in awhile when she’s stressed or some shit and takes it out on you but like- anything for you mommy.
OMG YES! and like her private gallery is like right outside the house and it’s all glass windows and shit so it’s so ethereal and shit- like you guys are just on the couch that’s in there, the light hitting both of you so beautifully, and the sensuality of it all is so- so amazing. All full of love and admiration.
Yeah- no I feel like she whines and whimpers a lot tho. Like maybe every once in awhile she’ll let out a moan from either being close or finally coming, but she just makes small noises that you love very much. But you do want her to be loud sometimes-
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maximoff-pan · 1 year
Note
just here to peer pressure you even more into writing part 2 of steve and yn’s secret relationship!!!!!!
ummm, absolutely….I couldn’t resist ;)
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 2.2k
warning(s): fluffy goodness, slight sexual mentions... mike wheeler
a/n: hi everyone! I just wanted to thank everyone for the responses to the first part of this. I never thought it would become what it has. But I’m so grateful! Your feedback and comments mean the world, thank you, thank you, thank you! And I hope you enjoy this little sequel!!! <3
part one
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• ж • ж •
“Fuck sakes man.” Mike snaps, looking down to his wrist signalling the time. “What are we waiting here for?”
It’s that kind of complaining that makes Mike your least favourite. You hate yourself for thinking that, but it’s kind of just how it is. Because you try so hard not to pick favourites; you guess he’s just done a good job of making sure he’s on the bottom of that definitely non-existent list.  
“Steve said they’d only be a minute or two.” Robin replies. Like Mike, she’s a tad antsy, but for a much different reason. She’s ever so curious as to what Steve had deemed was so important that he needed to gather everyone in his living room, on this very uneventful Saturday afternoon mind you, to tell them. 
She’s never been good at waiting. Evidently, neither has Mike, (as you’re becoming more and more aware). 
“A minute or two my ass…” He quips with a huff.
You roll your eyes in annoyance, because not only do you have it on good authority (from his mother no less) that he has nothing better to be doing, he’s not even wearing a watch. The impatient little bastard…he probably just came here to use the pool, you think.
“You know man,” Robin starts, gaze narrowing in on the younger Wheeler, “you’ve got a bit of an attitude problem.”
“Oh do I?” Mike’s tone is equally condescending. “I totally wasn’t aware.”
“Mike.” Nancy hisses from beside him. Jonathan is sitting on her other side, trying (and failing) to hide the bemused smile that’s sneaking onto his face. You can hear a couple hushed giggles make their way around the room, the kids thoroughly enjoying the back and forth between Robin and the Wheeler siblings. 
Mike shoots Nancy an intense glare, deep coffee orbs pouring with disinterest. He just wants to get out to the pool. 
When Steve finally enters the room, he looks utterly terrified. And it’s funny, because you’ve seen this man fight extraterrestrial beings, monsters people can only dream of, and this is the most scared you think you’ve ever seen him.  
Eddie saunters in behind him, grin shit eatingly cocky, as he takes a seat next to Max and Lucas on one of the Harrington’s many couches. You can only assume what they’d been talking about, hoping Eddie’s likely encouragement hadn’t been too much. Eddie has a bad habit of scaring people into not doing things, simply because his enthusiasm can be so off putting. 
In a sea of panic, Steve’s eyes find yours: ‘we doing this?’ they ask. They’re swimming in pools of fear. 
You smile with a gentle nod. ‘Everything’s going to be okay.’
For a second you think you see him relax a little, until your brief moment of reprieve is interrupted as El and Max simultaneously squeal, “C’mon!” They’re just as impatient as the rest of them. 
Robin agrees. “Yeah dude, dying with excitement over here.”
“Okay okay.” You hush everyone. Grasping Steve’s hand comfortingly, you lead him to the centre of the room. Standing in front of them, you take a moment to smile, nudging Steve in reassurance. 
You can feel the anticipation in the atmosphere, and a little something extra coming from Mike’s direction. Restlessness maybe, or agitation? Whatever it is, you can feel it brutally.    
“We’re–” he struggles, a lump catching in his throat. Steve knows that Eddie’s heart really is in the right place, but his gaze is anything but comforting. If the word eager had a face, it’d be Eddie’s, and it’s only making him more nervous. “We’ve got something to tell you.” He finally manages.
Mike groans. “We gathered that Captain Obvious.”
That earns another glare from Nancy, and a piercing stare from you. El almost whacks him with a magazine that’s laying on the coffee table. Powers or no, she’s entirely capable of putting him in his place. Because at this point, even she can see how anxious Steve is.
And quite frankly, no one enjoys seeing him this way, except for maybe Dustin (and Eddie). They’re so used to Steve being this rock, a playful and fun rock, but a rock nonetheless, that it’s strange to see him like this. 
“Woah dude!” Humour and sarcasm seep through Dustin’s voice as he directs his attention to Steve, trying to lighten the mood “You’re not gonna tell us you’re pregnant are you?”
Robin chokes out a laugh. “Could you imagine?” The pairs of eyes that turn to her are unsettling. She shrinks slightly at the attention, almost unsure of herself. “I mean, could you?
Jonathan chuckles at her drastic drop in confidence, joining in with a mocking look of horror on his face. “I don’t think I want to.” 
“Oh I do.” Is exactly the response you expected to come from Eddie. He looks proud of it too. 
“Eddie.” Max recoils. “You’re a freak.”
A smug smile quirks his lips upward. With a hand to his chest, he accepts it as praise saying, “Thank you. That means a lot.” 
You can sense the apprehension growing on Steve’s end. Usually he’d be eating this banter up, joining in and rousing everyone up. But he’s completely silent, having nearly turtled in on himself. 
“Guys.” You interrupt firmly. “As much fun as this is…” You trail, your implication obvious. 
If Steve hadn’t been so adamant about being the one to tell them about the two of you, you easily would have done it by now. But you want to respect his wishes. So you’re going to let him do it, no matter how long it takes. 
“Go ahead Steve.” Nancy encourages him, a soft, sweet, and knowing smile on her lips.  
“Okay, yeah, um. We’re uh–” Steve clears his throat with an apprehensive pause, “we’re together.” He says. 
Now that he’s said it, the reality of it sets in, your nerves spiking. You hadn’t been worried until now.
His arms do this awkward gesture, a half flail, half choppy, chaotic swing. It totally would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so nervous yourself. Had Steve’s living room always been this small?
Your gaze drifts, allowing yourself to look up. There’s a collection of different reactions forming on the faces of the people before you. A couple of them look knowing, (Nancy and Jonathan for sure) as if they’d been predicting this for some time now, and honestly…that’s fair. It’s not like you and Steve hadn’t been pining over each other for a couple of years or something…
Those reactions aren’t surprising. It’s the unreadable expressions on Dustin and Mike’s faces that get you. Irritable and fucking annoying Mike…of course he’d be the one to throw you a curveball.
“Like, together together?” Mike’s question catches you off guard.
You nod, confirming his inquiry. “Yes.” There’s a hesitance to your tone; you’re not sure what they’re thinking. 
Urgently, Dustin jumps in. “Since when?” 
“What?” Steve asks. He’s not confused by the line of questioning; it makes sense that he’d be curious. It’s the urgency with which he’s demanding an answer that has him puzzled.
“Answer the question Harrington.” Lucas implores. The silence is deafening.
“How long?” Dustin repeats with more vigour. Steve feels stuck. He doesn’t answer, afraid he’ll fumble. 
“Jesus Christ.” Mike huffs. He looks just as desperate. You’d think they had money on the line…
Ohhhh, you see now. A smug quirk of your lips tells them you know.
“(Y/n), how long?” Dustin turns his gaze to you. This is quite amusing to watch. 
You contemplate not telling them, because watching them squirm is really really fun, but instead you’re quick to answer, more curious as to who’s going to win. “Six months.” Is your reply.
Mike and Dustin both let out groans of defeat. “Fucking shit.” Mike says.
“You’re telling me I was one month off?” Dustin whines. “C’mon guys that’s gotta count for something!”
“No, no, no, no, no.” Lucas counters. “Will had six months. Therefore, he wins.”
Jonathan turns to his brother with a smile. “You guys had a bet? And you won?”
Will nods with a shrug. “I’m good at noticing things.”
His response is nonchalant, humble, and unassuming, much like him. It makes you proud to know that he cared to notice the little things between you and Steve, enough to pinpoint exactly when your relationship started.  
“Damn.” Eddie’s voice cuts through the discourse of the group, effectively shutting everyone up. “I really thought I was the only one who knew.”
Steve chuckles softly, showing signs of relief for the first time this afternoon. “I did too.” He says to Eddie. “Honestly, when you asked me how long we’d been — you know” he gestures semi-crudely, and despite trying to be subtle, his implication is pretty clear to everyone, “my heart almost jumped out of my chest.”
“Hold on.” You interrupt, skipping past the part where Eddie asked how long you and Steve had been having sex, because of course he did... (that’s an adventure for another day). “Did any of you not know?”
Robin raises her hand sheepishly. “I didn’t.” She says. “But in my defence, I can barely focus on anything for more than thirty seconds.” 
“I also didn’t.” Max adds. “And I have no excuse. I guess I just gave up hoping it would ever happen.”
Ouch… 
“I had no idea.” El’s tone is the same brutally honest one that you’ve come to love. “If I did, I would have said something.” That’s definitely true. 
Your gaze drifts over to the older teen couple, tilting your head slightly for an answer.
“I’m pretty aloof.” Jonathan smiles, “but I had an inkling.”
Nancy snorts. “Yeah, my inkling.”
Your face breaks into a smile. They complement each other perfectly.
Immense chatter emerges amongst the group, from Mike chastising El for not knowing, to Lucas teasing Max for being woefully unaware (which earns him a swift smack). And then there’s the pride on Jonathan’s face that Will won the bet (and Nancy’s smugness that Mike didn’t). It’s cute to watch everyone so animated, debating over when they knew, and how. The common theme being, it was bound to happen eventually. 
“Feeling better about it?” You sweetly ask Steve.
He lets out a laugh. It’s relaxed, the kind that makes your heart flutter. “Yeah.” He replies. “I’m not sure why I was so worried.”
“Because,” you drag the word slowly and teasingly. “You love them. And you care what they think.”
Steve’s cheeks warm at the thought. Despite them being the biggest pains in the ass the majority of the time, he does love them, with everything he has. Sheepishly, with a hand rubbing at the back of his neck he says, “’Suppose so.” He gives you a tired grin, with a mocking sense of warning... “but please don’t tell them that. I can’t have them thinking I care about them too much, or I’ll have no control over them.”
You chuckle. “Like you have any control over them now.”
“Hey!” He swats in offence. “I’ll have you know that Will listens to me all the time.”
“That’s because Will is just about the most well behaved kid this planet has ever seen.” You say. “I wouldn’t exactly call that an accomplishment.”
You both watch as Will excitedly giggles, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas handing him the money they owe him. It’s cute, very wholesome.
On that note, you pause, thinking aloud, “I’m a little surprised Robin didn’t know.”
Steve scoffs. “Really? She’s too preoccupied with Vickie to notice anyone else.”
“Oh, you’re definitely right.” You laugh at the realization. Vickie really had consumed Robin’s every waking thought. But you’re happy for her.
“Say that again.” Steve’s voice is low and smug, damn him for being so charismatic. 
You decide to play into his game. It’s not like he gets to hear it very often. Mimicking his sultry tone, you whisper, “You’re right.” 
He revels in it, a soothing silence settling between you, as the booming of voices continue floating throughout the room. 
You and Steve allow yourselves a moment to bask in it, as you lean back into his chest. He wraps his arms around you, draping his hands to clasp yours. You can feel his breathing, steady and calm, and you’re sure he can feel yours. Despite the chaotic mingling of nine voices it still feels peaceful. 
The uncharacteristically quiet tenth voice however, makes its way over to you, grin wide and extra toothy.
“So...” Eddie’s tone drips like honey as he approaches. He likes seeing you two like this, happy and in love.
You can hear the smirk in his voice, his amber eyes piercing into yours and Steve’s like a man who’s never been more satisfied in his life. In his mind, this was his discovery after all (even if most of the kids, and Nancy had known for a long time)...
But that’s besides the point. This was his, and no one is going to tell him otherwise. 
Deep brown orbs twinkling, he leans in to say, “Guess we know how long you two have been fucking.”
If it had have come from anyone else, you might have been more shocked. But it’s Eddie, so you’re not. You and Steve hum together in contentment, dopey smiles resting on your faces.
Guess we do...
• ж • ж • ж • ж •
tags: @shireentapestry @shortstoriesbyher @the-empress-of-sass @freezaz123 @damon-loves-pie @justmesadgirl @thepineapplesimp @murdockluvrr @siriusfahey @selfdeprecatingnerd @leilatremblay15 @mama-miya @sigh-mon-says @scoopsr0bin
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contentconsumer · 2 years
Text
a second chance
a/n: okay so i started a series, welcome to part 1! this is more of an introduction/setup for the rest of the series but y/n was kinda based on this post. hopefully posting part 2 later this week, let me know your thoughts and requests are still open - my prompt list can be found here. ily guys! also have a playlist for this series so let me know if you wanna hear it word count:3.4k(ish) requested?: no pairing: steve harrington x reader warnings?: um awkward steve, enemies, nancy slander (sorry not sorry) summary: you hate steve harrington. until you are forced to save hawkins together. then you don’t hate steve so much?
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“Hi, I’m really sorry but we are closed now.” You smile at the customer in front of you, praying they would retaliate with the same kindness. However, that would be too easy, “Can’t you just make me a coffee? I just want a small one.” You grit your teeth trying not to let your customer service smile drop, “Unfortunately, everything’s shut down and I was literally just about to lock the doors.” The older gentleman who stands before you exaggeratedly sighs, “Well, you’ve just lost a customer. You should make your opening times WAY more clear.” He turns on his heel and leaves, ironically speeding past the door with your store's opening time clearly printed on. Letting out an aspirated sigh, you continue cashing up - today feels like it has gone on forever. It had been a hot day in Hawkins so of course it felt like the whole population decided to flock to your place of work, a small and normally quiet coffee shop which conveniently also sells milkshakes - you had made a lot of milkshakes. As if God couldn’t give you a break, you hear the bell above the door ring again, assuming it’s the same guy coming back because he didn’t get his kick out of being rude and pouting to a teenage girl earlier therefore, without looking up you’re beginning to say “Look-” while simultaneously cursing him out in your head, yet before you manage any other words a voice you recognise calls out, “Gooooooood afternoon gorgeous!” Your best friend Eddie’s voice bellows across the store, “Hiya Eds, how are you?” You look up with a smile and a fond shake of your head, slightly surprised to find Eddie standing with others - who weren’t in his little DnD group. “Better now I’ve seen you.” Eddie shamelessly flirts but that’s just how your friendship worked, everything was strictly platonic but to an outside eye may not seem that way.
It certainly didn’t look that way to Steve, who stood behind Eddie and to the left of Robin, his mouth physically ajar in confusion of why on earth it appeared Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson was flirting with the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Robin picked up on Steve’s gawking which lead to him receiving a prompt elbow to the ribs, Steve hissed and rubbed his hand where his friend had hit him, “What the fuck was that for?” He moaned, Robin stared at him “You’ll catch flies.” she scolded. Before any bickering can begin, your voice pulls their attention back to the issue at hand. Eddie had demanded that all of them pick you up on the way to see the rest of the gang in hopes to discuss what their next plan for Vecna was. You knew about the Upside Down and all that came with it after you met Max and Dustin. They came in to your work in attempts to find Eddie when he had gone on the run from the police, you demanded more information as you were scared shitless for your best friend, not to mention you were certain there was no way Eddie murdered Chrissy making you all up for proving his innocence. What you weren’t expecting was the  full run down of Hawkins and how many secrets the small town harboured.
Despite this, there was no way you were backing out, not even when you saw Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington standing opposite you. You tried extremely hard not to roll your eyes at the mere sight of the boy but it was taking all your energy. You hate Steve Harrington and the worst part is, by the look in his eye (as he was very obviously checking you out), he didn’t remember who you were. You were the unfortunate soul who was forced to have the locker next to Steve for the whole time he attended Hawkins High, even though you had tried to swap with your friends. On multiple occasions. Regardless of this, you ended up stuck listening to the king of Hawkins High himself complain to his friends about issues you didn’t give a shit about for example, who was holding this week's party, how he was failing Spanish, his dad catching him drinking and/or smoking, the list goes on. Or if he wasn’t whining so loud the whole hall could hear, he was making out with Nancy Wheeler, a girl you never really spoke to, predetermining you two wouldn’t get along by the way she walked around the school with her nose turned up, right against your locker, meaning you were forced to attend many lessons without your appropriate books - being too nervous to try and get the two to stop playing ‘tonsil tennis’ as Eddie named it. Instead, you stuck with Eddie and a few others, but now you had also befriended Robin after bumping into her when you were passing through the halls with Max. But Steve? Up until this point you had luckily not run into him since he had graduated yet you knew the reunion would be coming sooner rather than later after Dustin started talking about how he was also in the group.
“Okay, so if we let Steve-” Dustin began as you drove him and Max home from a long day of questioning you about Eddie, “Hang on,” You butt in, “Steve as in Steve Harrington?” You can’t help the grimace that plastered itself on your face, to which Dustin physically retracted at, “Oh no, don’t tell me you two slept together too?” “Ew,” You shudder, “No. I-actually it doesn’t matter.” You don’t offer any more information about how you knew Steve much to Dustin’s dismay who was now very curious. 
“Okay, so why am I coming to this meeting?” You questioned Eddie before moving your attention to Robin, “Hey Robin” You greet with a smile, the girl replies with a small wave but notices how your smile drops as your gaze shifts to Steve. Before you have a chance to hurl abuse at the poor boy who still hasn’t realised who you are, Eddie interrupts, “Because you’re my best friend and I said to.”  “Sounds good enough to me,” You giggle and Steve swears he physically swoons over the sound but also can’t help but feel relief at Eddie’s use of ‘best friend’ - he notes you two aren’t actually together. “Let me just lock up and I’ll drive down behind you.” You raise your eyebrows at Eddie, “Oh hell no,” he waves his hand in the air, “I’ll come with you - Robin and Steve can lead, can’t ya?” Eddie turns to Steve, expecting a response, “Oh-uh-yeah for sure. You can follow us, yep.” Steve mumbles, running a desperate hand through his hair and tugging on it slightly, embarrassed. “Right let's go then dingus.” Robin grabs Steve by the arm, half yanking him out of the store, she turns her head to face you as she leaves, “See you in a sec!” 
“Yeah,” you squint and draw your eyebrows in confusion, “See you in a sec.”  “Steve, what the actual fuck was that?” Robin whisper-yells at her friend as soon as they exit the store. “I have no idea, was it bad? It felt like it was kinda bad.” Steve cringes, a blush forming on his cheeks, “It was like watching a train wreck. In slow motion.” Robin deadpans, “Wow thanks Robin, you have such a way with words.” Steve glares. “Oh Steve, will you please enlighten me on why on earth you just fell apart when speaking to Y/N Y/L/N? You like puddleified.” “Puddleified?”  “Melted, like turning into a puddle. Wasn’t my question. Answer. Now.” At this point they have reached Steve’s car and as he unlocks the doors, he can’t help but feel like he knows your name from somewhere - he just can’t put his finger on it. “What? She’s pretty. Pretty girls make me nervous.” Steve tries to explain but cuts himself off when he hears Robin scoff, “What?” he slides into the driver’s seat and turns his head to look at her, “That’s the most embarrassing excuse I think I have ever heard, and I had to listen to you try and get out that date with Stacy last week.”  “I handled that well!” Steve proclaims, “Steve, you told her you had chickenpox! You’re 19! And statistically 90% of cases of chickenpox are children 5 and below!” She hits his arm, “Anyway, you’ve got no chance idiot.”  “Why? Do you think she likes Eddie?” Steve can’t help the wave of disappointment wash over him as he tries to draw to a conclusion, “No way.” Robin states, “They have been friends forever, I think if anything would’ve happened, it would’ve happened by now.”  “Then why do you think I have ‘no chance’.” Steve uses air quotes, before turning to face the front of the store, seeing Eddie chat to you as you smile at him and lock the doors before replying to whatever the metalhead has said to you. Steve turns his key in the ignition, waiting for the engine to catch. “Because,” Robin says cockily, “She hates you.” She says it as if it’s a fact everyone should know. Like, oh the grass is green, the sky is blue and Y/N Y/L/N hates Steve Harrington. Steve can’t help but whip his head back round to the passenger seat, “What? Why would she hate me? She doesn’t know me.” Robin tuts slightly, “Oh but Stevie,” She teases with a shit eating grin, “She does.”  “Since when?” Steve shoots back, a part of him thinking Robin is just making this all up. “School you imbecile, she had the locker next to you and from that experience, she hates you.” A singsong tone covering her voice. It’s like everything clicks into place, he falls back into his seat, head thrown back as he groans, “Oh my god.” He mumbles before running both hands over his face, memories flooding back to him, you rolling your eyes everytime you tried to get to your locker, sighing and walking off when he was spending time with Nance, or mumbling curse words under your breath when you saw him heading towards his locker,  “You’re right. She does hate me.” Before either of the pair have a chance to say anything else, a knock on Steve's window makes him bring his hands down. Face to face with Eddie, he rolls his window down with a “What?” to which Eddie replies, “Dude are you gonna leave or? Y/N doesn’t know the way to Dustin’s house.” “Right.” Steve lets out a huge sigh, “Yep.” He slaps his hands onto the wheel.
Eddie returns to your car and slips into the passenger seat, “Well?” You scowl slightly, “He’s going now.” Eddie points his thumb in the direction of Steve’s car, who still had the window slightly ajar meaning you could hear Robin’s laughter from where you were sitting. You start to reverse your own car, before looking over to Eddie, “You might wanna like-crouch down?” “Crouch down?” Eddie laughs, “You know, in case the police drive past, I don’t really wanna be caught with a fugitive in my car.”  “I am not a fugitive.” “Eds, you are about as fugitive as they come right now.” You laugh, “Anyway, whose house are we going to?”  “Dustin’s.”  “And Steve just knows the way there because?”  “They’re friends?” Eddie tries to state but it comes out as more of a question, you let out a huff. “Y/N you can’t hate him forever.” “Don’t you start too,” You interject, “First Robin, now you, oh he’s changed. He’s so nice now.” You purposely put on a high pitched voice exaggeratedly pretending to be Robin, making Eddie giggle, “I’m being real with you, he’s actually alright, well so far.” Eddie shrugs, “Exactly,” You try, “So far. We still don’t even know that much about him.” You complain, “Yeah but Robin does, hell they even work together and I don’t see Robin hanging out with someone who is, as you claim, a total dickward.”  “HE is a total dickward,” You wave your hands around letting Eddie grab the wheel as your car almost swerves, “Hands on the wheel please Y/N or this fugitive is going to be found dead in your car.”  “If he keeps trying to make me befriend Steve Harrington then maybe it’s for the best.” You purse your lips trying to hide your smile, Eddie lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his heart, “You would let your BEST FRIEND DIE because he’s asking you to give a guy a second chance?” He shouts, “I don’t care about giving ‘a guy’ a second chance,” You mumble, “Just not Steve Harrington. Man, I hate Steve Harrington.”  “We’ve established that.”  “Fuck off Munson.” 
You arrive at Dustin’s house, far too quick for your liking. Slightly hitting the curb with your wheels you begrudgingly set your car into park. Meanwhile Eddie, the dramatic, is acting as if you just got into a head on collision, grumbling about your wheels and how if you damage them he doesn’t want to be the person who changes them, again. “Firstly, you offered to change them last time and who am I to stop you? And secondly, if I can change the wheels on my motorcycle I doubt it’s much harder.” You retort, “Wait?” Robin’s voice makes you jump, not realising she had caught up with you two as you march towards Dustin’s door, “You have a motorcycle? That’s so badass” She sounds awestruck, “Yeah,” You wave your hand, “It’s in the shop right now thanks to idiot-” You gesture to Eddie, “And his genius idea to try and drive it himself.”  “It wasn’t that bad.” “It certainly was that bad,” You exclaim, “You took my prized possession and drove it straight into a tree!” You begin to recall the dreaded night Eddie, after too much weed, decided to give his hand at motorbike driving, “You didn’t tell me it was gonna go so fast.” Eddie tries to bicker with you, an argument you had been repeatedly having since the incident, “I was high Eddie. You got me high then crashed my bike so I’m stuck driving my godforsaken mother’s Honda around.”  “I like your mom’s Honda.” “No Eds, you like my mom.” “Well, have you seen her?” Both you and Robin make various noises of disgust, all the while Steve trudges along behind the three of you. Wondering how he was going to make up for 5 years of his ‘King Steve’ era that you had witnessed, yet he couldn’t  help his look of surprise after listening to your story involving both drugs and a motorcycle - he didn’t take you for a motorcycle rider and definitely not a stoner. Nevertheless, he shakes his head in a way to physically remove the thoughts of you that seemed to plague him.  Eddie knocks on the door in front of him and Dustin swings it open with a happy grin, “Oh perfect, you’re all here.” He says before hurriedly waving the group of older teens through the door. “Common, hurry, we only have an hour before my mom’s gonna be back from bookclub.” He rambles, “Oh shit, I’m missing book club for this shit?” You gasp, voice laced with so much sarcasm Steve can’t help the laugh that bubbles then leaves his chest. Your head shoots to look at him, “Nice one.” He coughs, nerves overwhelming him, “Thanks.” You tilt your head in confusion, there was no way Steve Harrington laughed at your stupid joke. “Stop with the sarcasm and get inside or have you forgotten we have a literal demon running around Hawkins?” “Eddie’s right here. Not running anywhere?” You smirk, earning a punch in the shoulder from Eddie and a hushed, “No more talking from you.” From Dustin, Steve freely lets his smile widen at the sound of your voice. 
Once you settle into Dustin’s living room squished between Eddie and Steve, after of course complaining to Max about her being sat in the armchair (to which you got a “You snooze you lose Y/L/N.”  in response) Dustin began talking. Laying out facts you knew, and some you didn’t - you tried to pretend you were shocked at the horrors which were being described in front of you but Steve felt your body stiffen, almost without thinking he went to rest his hand on your thigh in attempts to reassure you but he stopped himself, Robin’s words echoing in his mind, instead he chooses to place his hand back on his lap, ringing his fingers together. All the while you took a deep breath trying to focus on what Dustin was saying and not the warmth radiating from Steve, if he didn’t disgust you as much you might’ve relaxed into him. But he does. You hate him. You almost have to remind yourself after your eyes flicker to the moles which litter his cheek.
The meeting continued on, Lucas explaining to the group that he overheard Jason telling the whole basketball team they were going to pay you a visit in hopes of figuring out where Eddie was hiding, in response you guys formed a plan which involved you occupying the Hawkins Tigers at work, in an attempt to buy time.  Luckily, no one had noticed the tension between you and Steve, that was until Robin had to open her big mouth, “So Steve,” She claps her hands together to turn and leans on her knees to speak to the boy in question, “You’ve met Y/N obviously, why don’t you give her hand, y’know make sure things don’t go south.” Robin tries to sound innocent but she can’t help but have a teasing undertone. Before Steve has a chance to reply you do, “Actually Robin, I’m good-” you sit back and cross your arms over your chest, “I can assure you I don’t need any help in keeping basketballers busy.” As you finish Steve starts, “I would uh actually agree with Y/N, I don’t think I can provide much help.” He curses as he feels a blush creep up the back of his neck, something you take a note of but don’t speak on, instead your own scheme forms in your head, “On second thought,” The gang turn to you, a smirk peeking under your bitten lip, “I could probably do with some help just incase you know ‘things go south.’” You quote, “So what do ya say Harrington?”  Steve feels all the air exit his lungs hearing you say his surname. “Uh-oh of course.” He manages to squeak out, “Would love to do that.” He sighs, “Okay it’s sorted then,” Mike starts, “You two keep Jason busy while we look through his car to see if he has anything that could explain why Vecna chose Chrissy as his victim.” 
As you leave the Henderson house, Eddie is hot on your heels, “Staying over Munson?” You question as he clambers into your mom’s car. “You know it. What was that thing?” His thumb jerks back to the house you had just exited, “I thought you hated Steve?”  “Oh,” you giggle, “I do. But for whatever reason I clearly make him nervous, so I thought it would be fun.” You face the road, “What would be fun?” Eddie can’t keep up with how you mind works, he says it’s because you’re a woman and you say it’s because he’s stupid. “Spending some alone time with him. See if he remembers me. I might actually be able to get an apology from him but I won’t count on it.”  “Y/N don’t tease the poor boy.” Eddie reasons, nervous for what you’re going to put Steve through, “I won’t. I just uh want to y’know,” You turn in your seat, “Give him a second chance.” You wink, “I should’ve known you would use my own wise words against me. I’m hurt Y/N. You’re never hearing this wisdom again.” Eddie laughs, “I think I’ll survive.” You beam.
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