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writersdrug · 6 months

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Ghost x Konig x Reader: I Don't Need You (Ch. 6)

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Summary: You (surprisingly) get more comfortable with Kortac, and slowly let yourself connect with the team. You subconsciously tether yourself to Konig, who is more than willing to help you fit in. The pain of the past begins to fade into the back of your mind like the end of a long chapter of your life.

Additionally, Konig starts asking the hard questions - it unearths a piece of you that you'd hoped would remain buried, but you still share the memories with Konig.

Chapter warnings: Mentions of violence, mentions of rape, cursing, google translate German, shirtless Soap, very EXTREMELY watered-down mentions of sexual themes (we ain't there yet, boiis)

Notes: Sorry it took so long, I've got a lot cooking in the kitchen now and I'm hoping to pump out a lot this week!

Additionally, I've had some comments on this work not being an x Reader. First off, I never want to mislead anyone. I label this as an x Reader because Bonnie is not an OC of mine. I've seen other x Reader fics include callsigns that refer to the reader, so I assumed using Bonnie similarly would be alright. I also mentioned a name ONCE in chapter 3, "Jane Morris," which I thought to be a very generic name, and I haven't used it since and don't plan to. I have a personal preference of writing longer, chapter-by-chapter fics in first POV because it feels more natural to me than second POV. The same goes for using y/n - I like to avoid it if I can because it feels unnatural.

Again, those last two thing are a personal preference. I'm not bashing any fics that use these things at all, I enjoy both ones that do and ones that don't, and I don't enjoy one over the other. When I say one feels more natural than the other, I mean it feels more natural to write, not to read. I'm debating changing the name I used in chapter 3 to just y/n l/n to make this a true x Reader. If you still feel like I should change this to an x OC please let me know and I'll be happy to adjust the tags, titles, and descriptions. Again, I never meant to be misleading, and I hope I didn't make anyone angry. If a mistake has been made I am happy to learn from it. Thanks!

Konig had cracked the code on me. He figured out that after a case of American beers and a long drive, away from the crowd of new faces, my outer shell began to soften.

There was still a wall that I was holding up between me and everyone else, even though it was significantly smaller than usual. When Roze and Castillo approached me at breakfast, I didn’t get up and leave. And when Juno used the empty spot in the gym room right next to me, dropping his bag on the floor and giving me a cautious glance as he set up for his routine - I didn’t grab my things and move to the other end of the room. That was my first instinct, but I fought it. Instead I huffed, facing the mirror in front of me and focusing on my sets.

I’d started going to the common area more often – maybe not every night, but often enough. We’d make it a habit to play poker on the nights I did show up. I was better than most of the group, since none of them were quite used to my mannerisms yet. However, Konig and Horangi still took the lead as the winners, despite most of us arguing that they shouldn��t be allowed to play if they were going to wear their masks. The argument would eventually turn into a casual conversation – I didn’t engage in it too often. I preferred to sit and listen, using the time to slowly learn more about the team. I typically planted myself between Roze and Konig, keeping my legs crossed on the seat and nervously fiddling with my Yuengling bottle.

Although I was ashamed to admit it, Konig had become a conduit for my interactions with the rest of the team. The way he engaged with their activities, yet still managed to stay reserved, struck a chord with me. I respected the fact that it could sometimes be difficult to find him on base, and that at the same time, he was always there when I started to feel overwhelmed. I didn’t need him, no… that was a stretch. But sometimes I felt grateful that he was so eager to accompany me places – especially when he invited me to go on “perimeter checks” with him, which mostly consisted of long drives off base.

I don’t know how I had grown to appreciate him so much – maybe it was because he felt similar to me, in the way that we both needed our alone time, and with how we often found ourselves slipping out of the common area around the same time, with the original excuse being that we were tired. Half of the time, we would sit in the mess hall and talk until the early hours of the morning.

“A sniper?” I asked on one particular night, fiddling with the mouth of my beer bottle. “You’re way to big for that – no offense.”

Konig chuckled. “And that’s what they initially told me.” He took a swig of his (nasty) German beer. “But, despite being handed other opportunities, I proved them wrong. I’m sill a damn good sniper.”

I huffed. “Nah, you should be happy you got promoted to Colonel; you’re lucky, you get to avoid being in the trenches – at least, as much as the rest of us.”

“Lucky? No…” Konig said, shaking his head. “I do not like being a Colonel. I’d much rather be doing the dirty work of soldiers than writing these stupid reports.” He slapped a large hand over the manilla folder that sat on the table next to his beer. “It keeps my head busy, and I don’t have to listen to myself think.”

I nodded while sipping my beer. “I completely get that – If I’m not actively doing something with my hands, my brain gets too loud. Like – like there’s a mini me in my head, and the only way to drown her out is by physically doing something. Anything, really.”

Konig laughed – almost a snort – “‘A mini you’. I like that, that’s good.”

I huffed a laugh through my nose, turning my head to hide the smirk on my face. Despite being a large, brutish man, he had a youthful essence about him. It was hidden deep beneath the thick exterior of a war-hardened soldier. But, every now and again, it rose to the surface, touching a part of my soul I hadn’t allowed to be seen in a long time.

I pushed my stack of bills into the middle of the table. “All in.” I said nonchalantly.

Gaz narrowed his eyes, leaning back in his chair and looking down his nose at me. “You’re bloody stupid…”

“Or really smart.” I retorted. I folded my arms over my chest, not wavering under his intimidating gaze.

It was unbearably hot in the room – whether that was from the tension of the game or the broken air conditioner (Price eternally insisted it would be fixed, “… by next week…”), I didn’t know. I was donned in my sweatpants and sports bra, Gaz was in a wife beater and sweats, Ghost was covered head to toe in a sweatshirt and jeans (one could ever rarely catch him wearing anything less), and Soap… well, Soap was Soap. Completely shirtless, with only a pair of gym shorts on. Typical for him to be so shameless.

Ghost looked at his cards, his jaw clearly tense underneath his mask. He wasn’t very good at hiding his unlucky hand – it was almost like he wasn’t even trying. Which was a possibility.

“Fucking hell… I fold.” He tossed his hand onto the table, revealing his sour bunch of cards. He walked to the fridge and cursed under his breath, rummaging through the contents.

“Jesus, you’re a load of dry shite.” Soap commented, leaning against the wall adjacent to Ghost. “You could’ve at least tried to intimidate ‘em.”

“You could try shutting your fucking mouth, alright?” Ghost snapped back. Soap raised his hands defensively, leaving Ghost by the fridge.

He flopped onto the couch near me and Gaz. “Miserable sap…”

I did my best to tune out their bickering. I stared down Gaz, tapping my fingers on the edges of my cards. I was relying on the river card – I had a chance at a four-of-a-kind, praying the last card on the table would be another seven.. It was risky, and Gaz was probably right in calling me stupid. But I was never one to back down from a challenge. I craved the thrill of it. Most of the time, I ended up getting lucky.

Gaz chewed his lip. He cocked an eyebrow, slowly pushing all of his cash to the middle of the table. “Call.” He said.

And I heard it – the telltale sign of his bluff. A fraction of a second where his voice had waivered, followed by him grinding his jaw. I knew I had it in the bag.

I was savoring the moment of triumph, watching Gaz stare at his cards, when I felt a hand on my back. I nearly spun around and yelled at whoever touched me, until I saw a gloved hand place a Yuengling bottle to my right, the lid already popped off. I faltered, staring at the bottle, feeling the hand on my back rubbing a thumb back and forth over my spine.

I glanced behind me, looking up to meet Ghost’s eyes. He was looking down at me with an empty gaze. His eyebrows twitched for a brief moment as he continued rubbing his thumb over the skin of my back.

I knew what he was suggesting. What he was asking. Put a woman on a compound with broken, touch-starved men, and eventually one of them will succumb to the temptation. Even so, I was shocked that it was Ghost. I would say he was showing a weakness here, no matter what he decided to call this – it was an admission that he needed something – something from me, specifically – which I never thought would happen.

He continued staring at me for another few moments, waiting for an answer. Keeping my eyes locked on him, I took the bottle and drank; my reply. He gave the tiniest nod, walking away and sitting down next to Soap – who was shuffling the remaining deck of cards, eyes narrowed at Gaz. He knew he was bluffing too.

I turned back to Gaz, smirking as he revealed the river card.

“You ever think about what you would say to those kids now?” I asked, tapping my beer bottle. “The ones who bullied you.”

Konig hummed. “Mm… not really. I don’t hold too much resentment.”

I chuckled. “If only we could all be a saint.”

“Well, it all happened so long ago.” Konig tried to justify himself. “We were only kids, bored and trying to stay on the surface. They just wanted to look tough so that no one would pick on them. Of course, I wouldn’t understand that as a kid. Maybe then, I would have admired what I’ve become, and I would have wanted to boast about it. But now that I am a Colonel – Ich habe besseres zu tun.”

I sarcastically rolled my eyes. “And that means?”

“Ehh…” he groaned, squinting his eyes. “How is it said… ‘I have bigger fishes to cook.’”

I sputtered, turning my head and laughing. Konig glared at me. “Gibt es ein Problem?” he asked, which I sort of understood. He sounded irritated, that much I could tell.

“No, Konig…” I said, standing up and giving him a pat on the shoulder as I walked by. “Just keep up the English lessons, ok?”

He scowled. “Verpiss dich… Start learning German and maybe I will.” He retorted, and I waved at him dismissively from behind my back.

I stuck my head into the fridge, grabbing a Yuengling and one of Konig’s beers. I walked back and placed them both next to him. Like instinct, he took each one and hooked their lid onto the edge of the table, then smacked the side of his hand down on the tops, sending the lid clattering to the ground. He opened my beer and handed it to me, then repeated the process with his, before reaching down and collecting the lids. He added them to the pile, totaling six beer lids so far.

If someone had shown me this image a year ago – Konig and I, sitting up late into the night, chatting like we’d known each other for decades… not to mention the fact that I was so unusually open with him… I would have been insulted. I would have laughed. No one would have been able to convince me that I would become so attached to anyone else after what had happened with the 141. Yet, all of this felt so natural. It was beyond how I felt that Konig and I were kindred spirits… it really did feel like I’d known him before. Maybe, he reminded me of a part of myself that I tried to bury away.

Or, maybe, I was just submitting to loneliness and trying to justify how quickly I clung to the first available soul. That was also an embarrassing possibility, one that I would rather not admit to.

“I have a question for you.” Konig’s voice and the clink of his beer bottle on the table brought me back to reality.

“I might have an answer.” I replied.

He looked off to the side, perhaps wondering whether or not he really wanted to ask the question. “Who did you kill? And why?”

Just like that, I felt the walls being built right back to where I had them. Bonding time’s over. Back to square one.

His inquiry caught me off guard. I froze, my bottle hovering in the air before I could take a sip, my eyes glued to the table. Just the mention of the incident brought the painful memories up to the surface, like claws scraping at the dirt, digging up the deepest roots.

“Lots of people.” I said, deflecting. I took a swig of my beer.

“You know what I mean.” He scoffed. “Why did you end up in military prison?” He leaned over the table – clearly not planning on letting the topic go.

I sucked my teeth, staring at him defiantly – moments ago, it was pleasant talking to him. Now, I was fighting back the urge to leave him at the table and go to my dorm. I felt ambushed at how he had changed the subject so abruptly. Like he had been waiting for me to carelessly stumble into the trap, and now he was watching me snarl from within it.

He leaned back with a sigh. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I just thought we were getting somewhere here.”

“Oh?” I said dryly, cocking an eyebrow. “’Getting somewhere?’ What’s that sup-“

“Hey, it’s ok.” He raised his hands defensively. “I get it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” His words were forgiving, but his eyes said something else – I knew what he was thinking.

Weak.

I gave him a hateful stare. Fucker know how to play his cards.

“I killed a sergeant.” I admitted. “My lieutenant’s right-hand man.”

That got Konig’s attention. He leaned forward again, putting his bottle off to the side. “Why?” he asked again.

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled, as I leaned back in my chair. My eyes fell to the floor as I forced myself to recall the memories. “In Egypt, a while back. Don’t ask when because I won’t tell you.” I warned Konig, and he huffed – but obliged.

I continued. “We were going in to retrieve a hostile target. Everyone was jumpy – me included. It was dark, and we didn’t know what to expect. After the hostiles started to engage, we were scattered. I got stuck in one tower, so I went upstairs to try and make a foxhole.”

I paused. It was now my own hands, covered in dirt, clawing at the roots of the memory. Each word I said was painful, yet somehow felt overshared. Like I was trying to get Konig to pity me. Except I wasn’t – I just wanted him to listen.

And that’s exactly what he did. No comforting shoulder pat, no soothing words… he just listened. He knew that if he stepped on the wrong spot, it would break my openness, like a branch breaking under his foot would disturb the silence of the woods.

“The sergeant – ‘Flare’ – he was up there, too. I thought we’d had the same idea, but… holy fuck…” I ran a hand down my face, feeling my heartbeat grow faster. “At first, I didn’t know what he was doing, I just heard him making those sounds and I thought he’d been hit, but… he was taking advantage of this – this woman – and with her kids right fucking there… she was probably just trying to hide, to hide them, she had to be so fucking scared… he didn’t even stop when I found him, I don’t know if he even heard me screaming at him.”

I paused, almost waiting for Konig to say or do something, but he remained silent. Despite my eyes never leaving the floor, I could see his blue ones watching me carefully. Concerned, patient, and calm.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” I said, my voice faltering the slightest bit. “So I shot him. In the head.” I unintentionally shivered. “Probably traumatized that poor woman and her kids, but… quick decisions aren’t the best ones.”

I ended my rant with a heavy sip of my beer. Konig continued watching me with wary eyes, which I ignored. I didn’t need consolation, or sympathy, or whatever he might try to offer. Somehow, he seemed to understand that.

“I would have done the same thing.” He commented.

Would you?

After a moment, he exhaled. “I don’t understand… I’d say you were in the right. Why did they put you in prison for that?”

I chewed my lip. “There was… some speculation, that I was jealous of his position. We’d been close throughout my time with the team, and when he got the promotion to second-in-command, I was a bit envious at first. People thought I was taking my anger out on him in what seemed like the perfect opportunity to lie.” I took another sip. “But I was happy for him. He worked hard, and he deserved it. But then the pressure got to him – Lieutenant was always depending on him for too much, and Flare couldn’t handle the responsibility. If he slipped up, it was a lot worse than if one of the rest of us did. I guess… the pressure is what got him in the end. Made him crazy in the end. He didn’t have any morals anymore.”

More silence. It felt uncomfortably loud – Konig’s stare seemed to make my head ring, making me fidget and bounce my knee. I wanted to snap at him. What are you looking at? Why are you asking so many fucking questions? But I was able to keep my anger at bay, justifying the situation by assuming his questions were fueled by nothing more than curiosity.

I figured I had said enough for the night, and finished off the rest of my beer. I slapped my leg, the telltale sign that I was getting ready to turn in.

Konig ignored it, or seemed to not notice. “Why did you kill him?” he asked.

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “Why did I? What do you mean?”

“Why kill him? Why not just… disable him for the moment, and let your commander deal with him later?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice was a second too late. “Again… in the heat of the moment, you don’t make distinctions like that. You think: ‘shoot,’ or ‘don’t shoot.’ And shooting him was the choice I made.”

Konig’s gaze became scrutinous. He knew I was lying about something… he was hellbent on figuring out what.

He’s going to have to wait a long damn time.

“Goodnight, Konig.” I said flatly. I collected my bottles, getting up from the table. With a clang, I tossed them into the bin by the exit, walking down the hall and leaving Konig sitting alone in the mess hall. I feel tears stinging my eyes, but that’s all they did. It’s all just water under the bridge, y/n. Get it together. You’re alright.

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Taglist: @igotmajordaddyissues @princekonig @vixionix

#konig x reader #konig x reader smut #konig cod #konig smut #call of duty #cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #ghost cod #cod #konig #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader

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celestie0 · 2 months

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notes on kickoff ch.7

hellooo if you're here thank you for taking the interest! i just had some creative notes i wanted to get off my chest with the release of ch.7 lol i felt compelled to do so with this one i'm basically journaling here. you can read this after reading ch7 here!

I. on gojo's feelings

as for why didn't gojo just tell reader how he felt at the end of the chapter, and instead only says what he does. i think i rewrote this ending like five different times, he was never supposed to tell her at this point based on my story planning, but i did explore the idea of a dramatic confession here regardless, and it didn't fit for lots of different reasons for one, i think he's finally able to put himself in reader's shoes. it's true he's pretty dense and obviously has commitment issues/valid fears that keep him from opening up, but that still doesn't mean he hasn't hurt reader in a lot of different ways already. he realizes, whether intentionally or not, he's led her on and to do a complete turnaround within a few hours while she's already trying to process rejection as she is clearly withdrawn from him i believed would've been selfish on his part, and could possibly cause even more hurt over the fact that he could come off ingenuine. gojo is finally emotionally aware of her enough to recognize it, but he's not a perfect person so it still slips through that he's distraught at the thought of never seeing her again. in general i'm of the opinion that if someone asks for space, you respect that unless they say otherwise of note, just because he realizes that he has these feelings, doesn't necessary change his fears, as no single moment can undo years of trauma, so i think that's why he bites his tongue too. i'm not keen on making this a "woman fixes man" story but i moreso want to embrace the sentiment that you don't need to resolve every single bad thing that's ever happened to you in order to embrace love or happiness.

II. on gojo's commitment issues

i know it was brought up in the first gojo pov that he has issues committing to just one woman, but i wanted this chapter to reveal that it's really just his fear of opening up to people due to the still raw loss he feels of losing someone he loved. i aim with his pov to be more of a stream of his own consciousness rather than from an omniscient observer, which may explain the ambiguity. he's not sure if he's able to open up to a person in a way he knows is normal and healthy, so he settles on shallow connections instead. just wanted to clear this up, and say that it won't be any sort of plot point in which he struggles to be sincere or faithful when he seriously wants to commit to someone as he has no issues with that if he truly wants to be with them (unlike the whore he's been so far in the series lmao)

III. on strawberry vanilla soda

btw i've never had this flavor of soda i'm not even sure where i came up w it loool or if it even exists. i was kind of toying with the idea of gojo seeing reader's message on the can during the match, and that would maybe help him get more focused on the field (sooo sports romance cliche but i still love it haha) but i settled on him seeing it afterwards to kinda parallel the clumsiness he's had with reader so far. for some reason, the universe just doesn't want him to get his timing right with her lol

IV. on angst/conflict

i know ch7 was a bit differentttt less gojo x reader and more just gojo lmfao, it was also a bit angsty. it definitely won't stay angsty throughout the remaining chapters. this was just gojo's lore drop chapter LOL. there will still obviously be angst here and there, but i've got a lot of fun, cute, tense, silly, passionate, messy scenes still planned similar to ch5&6 because i prefer writing those kinds of scenes haha. ultimately this story was always meant to be a full-circle romance, so ch7 was to lay some of the emotional groundwork that gets brought up as the story builds to its climax

that's all i have to saayyy if you actually read this whole thing i love you?? lol. ch7 really emotionally resonated with me as i wrote it, both as someone who understands how gojo feels but also as someone who understands how reader feels, and if it resonated with you too then that makes me very happy and that's ultimately every writer's dream haha. was very cathartic to share these thoughts. i hope to see you in the next oneeee <3 have a wonderful rest of your day!

#kickoff #gojo satoru #fanfiction

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marilynthornhilllover · 2 months

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When you call my name. do you think I'll come running? { chapter 7}

+ If i only could I'd make a deal with God I'd get him to swap our places.

Alcina dimitrescu x fem!Reader

Warning: pre-grief, depression, slight sadness, extreme rage, LOTS of angst, extreme plot twist, talk of suicide, slight fluff. { read chapter 6 here }

A/n: I just wanted to start off by saying thank you to the people who showed utmost appreciation to this series and interest of it continuing! I never actually thought this series would hit it off! And it warms my heart to know so many of you are interested and it has captured the attention of your heart! Sorry for the long wait in chapter update! I know it's been almost five months since i last posted CH. 6 and I sincerely apologize! :). This is a bit lengthy so I had to split it into two parts so, chapter 8 will be a bit short!! Love you guys enjoy!!.

Today no one spoke..... no one moved.... no one even dared to blink or breathe too hard. If you were ever to be caught dead in the sight of Lady Dimitrescu who knows what she might do to you..... Perhaps Rip you in half?, shred you to pieces?, pull your throat out?..... well no one wanted to be a human experiment, therefore everyone kept their distance away from the lady and her personal space. Her rage is not one to be tested and neither is her faith. She's like a lion, sly in the shadows but dangerous in light, she couldn't be trusted then and certainly not now. Ever since you left she's been acting as a fish out of water.

She never left her office or the castle itself and when she did, no one could be able to point out her emotions. She'd always dress in her usual formal black dresses and Veil hats that covered three quarters of her face. Her elegant walk and perfectly fitted gloves, only God knew what monster hid behind the poker face of 'Countess Dimitrescu' .

The entire castle was silent - completely silent. You could hear a pin drop. Make noise and your dead, make one slip up and show weakness or incompetence and your also dead, no one wanted to be alive in the same place where " Countess Alcina Dimitrescu " also lived. The villagers who'd usually bring fresh food and fruits to the castle heard of the matter and started delivering their pastries at the back door, too terrified of the wrath she held for anyone who may know what she's going through or even the smallest detail of your whereabouts.

It was a mad house at castle dimitrescu, maids started whispering rumors and stories of how the lady was going completely mad and turning into some sort of witch or dragon - if that's even possible, at night. Some say she flys over the village howling and puffing looking for her.... lost one.... but that's not true..... right?.....

It was 10:05 am, the lady drinks tea at 10:00 am, the lady's tea is five minutes late.... why because the poor little tiny girl who's job is to bring the raven hair goddess tea is scared out of her mind to so much as to stand infront of her door, she's done this a million times, so what's holding her back now? Maybe the fact that no one knows where her fate might lie after the woman opens the door, perhaps only mother miranda will know.... but she's a topic for another time.....

The girl took slow strides walking up to the lady's door as the tray that laid in her hand containing the lady's tea shook vigorously as a result of her nervous system failing her, cold sweat dripped from her forehead as her lips quivered and shook.

One

Two

Three

Knock, knock

Her shaking palms returned to her side as she sighed a breath of pure fright. For two long , minutes there was complete silence, no movement, no breathing, no sign of other recreations, nothing, absolutely nothing. And just as she was about to leave, hoping the lady thought her ears deceived her, there were loud thudding foot steps. No exaggeration used, the tall woman's footsteps were loud and massive. They spoke of frustration and pure rage. The young girl then again started struggling to breathe.

As the footsteps got louder and closer she managed to bow her head just in time when the lady opened the door. Suddenly the girl was taken back when an impossibly human surviving air hit her skin. The air was cold and thick, she could easily tell that the lady in fact hadn't left her room in a while and there was no ventilation happening in there. It felt as if someone had truly died, as if all life was lost, and the world had truly ended and all love was forgotten.

" yes, what is it, can't you see I'm busy?!" her voice was cold, brutal and hoarse, it showed no sign of life, love or even integrity , instead she sounded bitter and cold as, if she was the first person to ever be born on earth and everyone else were just a burden or her just her unwanted ornaments.

" f- forgive m- me my lady i-if I'm wrong but- you have wine with your b- breakfast, and tea in t- the mid afternoon, m- my lady" she wasn't wrong... in fact she's one hundred percent correct, but when your life is at stake you try to minimize your talking and smart mouthing - simply being correct. Again there was a long pause of utter silence. The girl couldn't even hear the lady breathe above her , it was as if she wasn't there at all, if she wasn't quite literally staring at her heels she would have believed she had returned inside.

Besides from that she couldn't even hear herself breathe, she minimized her heart beat and lungs respiration so low that it felt as if she was dying, her chest started to burn, it was as if she wasn't breathing at all. The girl heard a sigh of frustration before a loud slam of the door infront of her.

Well.... it's better than having your throat ripped out and being made into fine Romanian wine then being sold to the market.

Alcina sniffed walking back towards her desk. she held onto the rim of it for emotional support. She bit her lip as it quivered, while fighting back tears. Your voice rang through her mind, you were like a ghost, invisible with high amount of impact but held powerful memories. Alcina couldn't function or focus the way she should be. You were the only thing she thought about, the only person she ever truly loved or cared about besides her daughters. And to have you pulled out of her life by the hands of the person she hated so greatly made her feel as an failure even more.

It ate away at her heart to know that if you had died - as miranda said you did, that means that you spent the last few minutes of your life probably cold and afraid, thinking that it was her fault. But regardless, what ate her up the most was the fact that you died with holding her hand, without her being by your side until you took your last breathe. It wasn't fair, and it was her fault. It is her fault. After all she is a monster.

' Monster '

' Your a monster '

' No one loves you '

' Your the reason she's d- '

" SHUT UP" alcina picked up her vanity and threw it across the room with great power, breaking it in half and slightly cracking the floor of her office. That's definitely gonna need fixing.... which means someone will have to visit the castle. She didn't want any guests or company, not because of the rumors, or the uneasiness you felt as soon as you stepped foot into the palace, no alcina was bigger than that, what she wasn't bigger than was herself.

Not her literally self, the one she saw when she looked into the mirror, the one she felt 24/7 weighing down her shoulders, the one she heard most of the time.....her entire life, the one she felt deeply inside waiting to be unleashed, to be able to set the world ablaze and get rid of all human beings. The one she was called...... a monster..... this part of her..... this was the part she wasn't bigger than.

No matter how much she tried, no matter how much she fought..... it ate her up inside..... her inner soul was bruised, scared, busted, call it what you want, but the truth was she fought to keep the outside going strong and tall. While the fire was running low she fought to keep herself elegant and up right. Good Posture, perfect teeth, phenomenal business, respected name. All of it was just a show that people got to tell. What people failed to realize was that although Alcina may be dead on the inside..... she's still human.....

She still loved... she's still cared, for God's sake. This was the part of her she just couldn't get rid of. The weight of it all soon caught up to her and it and not light at all.

She missed you.... so so much, beyond explanation.... beyond belief.... she loved you, every part, your smile, your hair, the way you'd do a little nose scrunch when she tackled you onto the bed, your laugher, your dramatic side eyes when she said something that didn't quite suit your style. She cared for you.... so damn much too. Cared if you ate, if you slept, if you were happy.... and now you were gone.... erased from her memories, from her life.

She longed for you....

You stired as you slowly opened your eyes to see daylight. You blinked rapidly trying to clear your eyes and refocus your vision. After a while of low steady breathing you were finally able to open your eyes completely and take hold of your surroundings. The room was small, it reminded you of the vintage times. It was raged with cigarette smoke and burning medicine plants - too much burning medicine plants. The room wasn't clean but it also wasn't the tidest.

There was a small bed on which you laid on and another which was empty, there was another room connected to the room that you were in that had a beaded curtain handing before the entrance. From the view that you were sitting you could see an old woman slowly moving her hips side to side as she hummed softly to a playing jazz music that your ears couldn't yet pick up. You coughed as you tried to get up slowly, you instantly felt excruciating pain all over your body.

You fell back sobbing as your hands felt utterly weak. You heard small foot steps before seeing a familiar face. It was Carmen. Your mom's old yoga and herb cooking buddy. A small warm smile was plasted on her face as she sat on the stool infront of you.

" Easy now child, you don't want to make this wound worst" she spoke, her voice cracky and faint. She was dressed in a light pink night gown and a soft brown head band with her hair braided in a fish braid. She gently dipped a wash cloth in a bowl of green like liquid before gently pressing it to your wound that was located on your hip. You whimpered softly at the slight stinking sensation before it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. After multiple wips of her cleaning the wound she placed a badge on it.

" thank you carmen" you mumbled, your voice also being raspy from using for the fisrt time since God knows when. The elder woman smile before waving you off with her hand. She got up and and went back into the kitchen.

" how did I end up here?" You asked her before standing since you felt a bit more better now. You heard her chuckle before hearing some pans clack together.

" I found you laying in the forest the other day when I went out to pick berries, you were all cut up and bruised, could have swore you were a zombie or perhaps even a lycan" she laughed before emerging from the kitchen and into another room. You Curiously followed her just to find four small but widthful shelves of books.

She bent down groaning slightly before taking out some books and dusting them off and replacing them, continuing the step for others.

" I hoped you'd wake up soon, when I found you, you had only a faint pulse that lasted every twelve seconds, you were basically half dead. Anyway I need to go to the market, i'm sure you can fend for yourself, you did just fine, God knows how you ended up 36 miles out into the woods" you froze..... did she just say 36 miles..... into the woods....

" am I in south Romanian?!" You asked a bit too loudly. Carmen looked up at you with raised eyebrows.

" yes.... did you forget you and your mother use to hop the river to come visit me for my birthday? Silly girl, yes south Romanian, mother Miranda's old village, the one she used to rule over? Yes my dear" she moved towards the other selve and began packing.

" Carmen! Do you heard how crazy this sounds?! I live in north Romania, you know... where castle dimitrescu is?! " again your voice was on the raise and she didn't quite like it, but you didn't really care either. She sighed before getting up, she facial expression and body language completely changed into a colder one.

" have a seat child" you compiled before she sat infront if you with a very serious expression. She sighed before placing her hands down onto your thighs.

" your mother died y/n...." your eyes zoned and you swore you could hear your eyes ring as you heard your heart beat slow down. Carmen squeezed your thighs before continuing.

" it's a hard pill to swallow but you better do, my condolences my daughter" she said doing the sign of the cross. Your mother meant alot to you, she wasn't really a huge part of your life, you didn't even remember much of her. You remember being kidnapped from your house one night by mother miranda and seeing the terror on her face before you passed out, and seeing her in a dream once. You've lived in an orphanage for your entire life and that night was the first time that you got back your life to her.

That didn't meant you wouldn't miss her.... you just couldn't find a reason to miss her.... you barely even knew her to begin with.....

" you know that lady people said your in love with?.... you know.... tall, big vampire mommy lady with wings" you gaved her a sarcastic fake laugh before looking at her dead serious. She smirked before continuing.

" there was a rumor that she killed your mother....." you tilted your head to the right, trying to comprehend the information you just received. You shook your head before nervously laughing.

" No that's not true.... it was probably miranda but people are to scared to say that so they blame alcina, they always do that, trust me, miranda was the last person my mom saw so-" Carmen cut you off by shaking her head and tsking.

" No child..... your mother was killed six months ago... and if I'm not mistaken you were kidnapped and forced to work for this ' Alcina' almost two years ago.... look they said it was big boobs vampire lady, bird lady and some lady who's obsessed with carrying her doll everywhere" you were significantly frozened between reality and what carmen was telling you now - which would obviously be a lie.

No one is saying carmen is a lier but sometimes elderly people loss their minds as time goes by - especially is they love to gossip..... anway.... your mom is dead and you felt nothing, you don't even think you miss alcina, now that your away you feel.... nothing..... you don't miss her, part of you don't even seem to care if she's doing ok, it's as if you never loved her.... maybe your body is still in shook, carmen did say that you had been out for two days straight, maybe your sleep dprived and can't think straight or maybe........ no let's not go there.

Carmen could clearly see that you didn't believe her, getting her she sighed as she began to grab her belongs, shoes, shopping bags, bud spray and pepper spray.

" look child believe what you want, don't go cra cra over your mom too much, wishing on things that just weren't possible, i'm off, when I'm back maybe we can make cinnamon rolls and some soup to get you better" she smiled softly at you before leaving a small peck on your forehead then leaving. You decide that your going back to castle dimitrescu, you needed answers...... you demanded them..... and even if it's the last human thing that alcina is capable of doing she will give them to you.

You could feel it in your heart that you were drifting away from alcina..... that spark that you once felt.... that burning passion.... that burning love.... gone....

You didn't have any belongs at Carmen's but you walked with some of her stuff, like water, little protein bars, bud spray and a knife. You left her a note thanking her for her utmost compassion and kindness upon you before starting your very very long journey....

TAG LIST : @willalovexx @ilovehugslikealotalot @milkiedimitrescu @willowshadenox @enchantressb @moisblofish, @nclgsticore @vampire-s61914 @snkskyler15 @milkkyshakeez @luisa323 . If you wish to be apart of the tag list for the next up coming chapters please comment below :) <3

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spaceyaceface · 9 months

Text

Sorrow - Safety Ch 6

Ominis Gaunt x f!Ravenclaw!Reader (Reader is not MC)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Angst (but also fluff)

Summary: Y/N L/N had always despised Ominis Gaunt. He was everything she hated about her life. As the only daughter to a wealthy pure-blood family, she knew it was inevitable that she would someday find herself in an arranged marriage.

But why did it have to be him?

Or, a classic arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn.

Also available on AO3

Chapter One | Chapter Five

He should have known better.

That’s all he could think from the moment Constance had stormed off, the fresh wounds from her words still bleeding out. It’s all he thought when he made his way to the Undercroft, allowing a fire of anger to burn to keep a sea of tears at bay. It’s all he thought when he heard her voice, when he turned away, ignoring the painful sting in his chest as he left her there. And it was all he thought when Sebastian came, dragging him back up to the common room, insisting he at least try and sleep.

He was glad his fallen tears had dried long before Sebastian came for him. Anger was an easier emotion to describe—it was one Sebastian had seen on Ominis before, and could therefore understand. But that deeper hurt—that feeling of betrayal and remorse that made his eyes burn—that was one he didn’t want even Sebastian to see.

Ominis couldn’t sleep. The words that Constance had said—words she had once said—still echoed in his mind.

Look at you, nothing but pure evil. A disgrace to magic.

No wonder you had to precure a bride—no one would willingly choose you.

I pity the monster you are.

There were more things Constance’d said. An entire torrent of insults, of partial truths, of words he’d tried for years to stop saying to himself. And it was all back in a flash.

To think, it had all come from the first person he’d put his trust in in years.

That was what hurt the most. Not the words themselves. Not even Constance’s cruel tone of voice. No, it was the fact that just that morning, he’d smiled a bit at the idea of greeting her. Mere moments before, he’d hummed the simple song he’d taught her on piano. He’d let himself think for even a second that she could see past the blood that ran through his veins.

And it all tumbled down.

So he paced, unable to sleep, in the Slytherin common room. Sebastian sat on a sofa, and after a good several minutes of his friend’s relentless steps, he sighed.

“I thought you were going to try to get some rest after coming up here,” he said.

“And I thought I’d told you I’d be in this state whether here or in the Undercroft. You should have just let me stay there.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Sebastian said, quietly.

Ominis whirled around, facing his friend. There was something in his tone. Some sort of admittance. “Why? Why have you dragged me up here?”

“She…” Sebastian hesitated a bit. “She didn’t have anywhere to stay the night.”

Ominis’s jaw dropped, and his shock quickly gave way to more fury. More betrayal. “So you pulled me out for her sake? After all she’s done?”

“She hasn’t done anything,” Sebastian said, standing up from the sofa. “Last I checked, it was Constance who came to torment you.”

“And where did Constance get all that?” Ominis fired back. “You think she came up with all that herself? She was just repeating what’d been fed to her.”

Ominis knew this much to be true. A lot of what Constance had said had been echoes of Y/N’s words when they’d gotten the news of the engagement. Coming from her, with anger over the situation, with knowing that she had never known him before—well, that was easier to forgive. To look past. But having been lied to, tricked into thinking she viewed him differently only to be proven completely wrong was painful.

“Y/N told you she was wrong about you,” Sebastian said. “Her friend’s opinions are her own.”

Ominis’s lip curled in a near snarl. “She didn’t even try to stop her from coming to me.”

“She didn’t have the chance.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, didn’t have the chance?”

“Constance stole a letter from her parents, and she went off to find you while Y/N was still in class. She had no idea, not until she fought with Constance and went to you to apologize.”

Ominis frowned, taking in Sebastian’s words. “They fought?” He asked.

“Yeah. It… must have been pretty bad. She didn’t tell me much, but it sounded like she took your side. She was—well, she was a bit of a mess over all of it. Over hurting you.” Sebastian gave a small, humorless chuckle. “Kept asking how you were.”

She’d… defended him? The memory of them outside the Undercroft came flooding back to him. Her tone, shaky and desperate. And his returning voice—defensive and fierce. She’d just stood up to her friend, her best friend the moment she spoke out against him, and he’d returned the favor with nothing but more anger. Would he have done the same? If Sebastian had confronted her, would he have thrown all caution to the wind to stand against him, risking it all for a newly formed friendship?

He wasn’t even sure.

She couldn’t even sleep in the same room as her friend. That’s why Sebastian had taken her to the Undercroft, wasn’t it? To stay away from the friendship she may have just shattered for his sake.

What was the last thing he had said to her? I should never have let you in.

His heart fell. He had been so quick to let his emotions control him. He’d chosen to forget how clear the regret had been when she’d apologized in the past, how just as much as he’d let her in, she’d done the same.

He’d figured she still thought the worst of him. And in fear, he did the same.

He ran a hand through his hair, sitting silently on the sofa. “Merlin, I…” He let out a shaky breath. “You… you said she was a mess. Is she alright?”

Sebastian sat down in the chair across from him. “She will be, I think.”

“I should go talk to her. Apologize,” Ominis said, preparing himself to stand before Sebastian interrupted his thoughts.

“Let her get some sleep,” he said. “You can talk to her in the morning. You’ll both think clearer after some rest.”

Ominis scoffed a bit. As if he would be able to sleep at all. But he figured he’d done enough damage for that day—best to leave something for tomorrow.

He dragged himself up to bed, not even bothering to lay under the covers as he settled there. In the morning, he thought to himself. In the morning he’d try to make things right.

The night had dragged on, until finally, he simply couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled on his uniform and rushed to straighten his hair, bypassing the typical care he gave it. It was only a few minutes before he found himself trekking down to the Undercroft, the familiar creaks of the door sounding as he entered.

She wasn’t there.

Instead, all he found was a few neatly stacked blankets, tucked into a corner. He brushed his hand over them, noting the sweet scent of vanilla still clinging to them. He frowned a bit. Perhaps she had gone back up to the Ravenclaw tower sometime in the night. Maybe she’d fixed things with Constance, realizing she shouldn’t have tried to offer any of her sympathy for him. He couldn’t blame her if she had.

Ominis stayed there a moment, wondering what to do. He needed to think. He left his secret sanctuary to head for another, walking the familiar path to the music room.

And unlike every other time he’d arrived, someone was already there.

The piano player was clearly inexperienced. The notes were choppy, and more often than not, wrong. But he could still make out the melody through the mistakes, and it brought a small smile to his lips.

She hit one particularly sour note, and he stepped into the room before he could overthink his approach. “It’s a c, not an f. Though your choice certainly has some sort of flair to it.”

She whirled around, hands dropping off the keys in a sudden lurch of silence. “Ominis,” she said softly. After a slight breath, she began a torrent of words, standing from where she was sitting on the bench. “Ominis, I’m so sorry. I had no idea what she was doing until she had done it, please don’t think I still think those things of you. I’m so—”

He said her name gently, approaching her. “Sebastian explained things to me. It’s me who should be apologizing.”

He heard the sigh that left her lips. “No, this is all my fault. You were hurt. I can’t blame you for being angry. I… I don’t even want to know what things she said. What things… what things I used to say to her.”

He reached out, placing a careful hand on her arm and pulling her down to sit on the bench once more. He sat beside her, letting his hand fall away. “But you don’t think those things anymore?”

It came out as more of a question than he had intended. He realized he needed to hear her say it—to reassure him. Thankfully, she was more than willing to give him that.

“Of course not,” she said. Her voice was thick, as if she were on the verge of tears. “I would take it all back if I could. Every word. You… you’re good, Ominis. And kind, under all that sarcasm of yours.”

He chuckled a bit as she continued.

“Kinder than I deserve.”

He frowned. “Well, I wasn’t very kind to you last night. I… I didn’t mean what I said. I’m sorry. I value our friendship, despite it’s strange beginnings. I hope it can continue, even after all this.”

Her hand came back up to the keys, tracing over them. “I would like that,” she said softly.

The relief that filled him so completely surprised him. He hadn’t been wrong to place his trust in her. She had done the same—and they’d managed to navigate through this storm. But another worry still ate at him.

“You and Constance,” Ominis said. He felt her tense up beside him. “Sebastian said the two of you fought?”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “I can’t blame her for being angry with me. I lied to her. But she—she shouldn’t have taken that letter. She had no right.”

“I agree,” Ominis said. “But can I ask… Why did you lie to her in the first place? I’m not saying you were wrong to, but why keep that from her?”

She hesitated before speaking. “I wanted something to feel normal,” she said softly. “I wanted… I wanted something to stay unchanged. Something to not feel like it wasn’t falling apart. Let myself pretend it was all fine, you know?”

Of course he knew. He knew all too well.

“It wasn’t fair of me, but I forced her to be that.” She laughed bitterly. “Funny. Now I doubt things will ever be the same with her again.”

“You don’t think she’ll forgive you?”

“I haven’t got a clue,” she admitted. “I took my side when we fought. And I didn’t choose her.”

You chose me, Ominis thought. He hated the small bit of warmth that thought brought to his chest—hated it because something she cared for had been broken, but it had been for his sake.

“I’m sure she’ll see sense in time,” he assured her. “She made her own mistakes. I’m sure she’ll recognize that she wasn’t fair to you, either.”

“Maybe.” The word sounded so full of defeat it nearly broke Ominis’s heart. He wished he could fix this for her—it was a strange desire, one he had never felt before. Not even for Anne or Sebastian. When they made mistakes, when things went wrong because of choices they had made, it was usually easy to step back and let things play out. Of course he would comfort them—but he also knew they had to deal with their consequences. That was just how it went.

But for her… well, if he had the power, he’d wave his wand and set everything right.

Unfortunately, he didn’t think there was a spell for that.

He placed his hands on the keys, beside her own. “You’ve been practicing.”

“Not much,” she admitted.

“Still,” he said, small smile curling the corners of his lips. “You’re improving.”

“Ah, yes, my lovely rendition of the song you heard when you arrived surely proved that.”

He chuckled. “I very much enjoyed the melodic liberties you were taking.”

“I’m glad someone was. Sounded awful to me.”

“Not awful. Just abstract.”

He felt her mood lighten. Perhaps he couldn’t fix everything. But he could make it a little better.

“Would you play something?” she asked.

Her question took him a bit by surprise. But he found himself unable to turn it down. “Of course,” he said. She took her hand from the piano, and laid it on her lap. He allowed himself to spread his fingers over the keys, and began.

He wasn’t used to playing for an audience. But any nerves he may have disappeared the moment the music began to swell. That was how it always was. He could get lost in the notes and chords, and he’d stay there as long as he could.

Even as he found himself in the music, he found a small thought in the back of his head hoping she felt the same. That he could let her escape with him, even for a few minutes.

When those minutes ended, when his song was complete and he lifted his hands from that final chord, they let the following silence linger for a moment. It was… intimate. Sacred. It was a little overwhelming, if he was honest, and he found himself needing to break it.

“Breakfast will be starting soon,” he said softly, hardly more than a whisper.

“Yes,” she said.

“You can sit with me and Sebastian,” he said. Then he realized that that was quite the suggestion, and that it was perhaps too much. “If you want, of course. I just thought I’d offer, considering…”

“I think I’ll accept your kind offer.” There was a hint of a smile in her voice. One he couldn’t help but be glad to hear.

“Well then,” he replied. “I suppose we should be off before my menace of a friend steals all the pastries.”

She laughed, and he felt lighter.

If Sebastian was surprised to see the two of them walk into the Great Hall together, he didn’t let it show in the slightest. He was quick to scoot down a bit on his usual place on the bench, providing room for her. It wasn’t unheard of for students of other houses to sit at different tables—really, the only time the unofficial ‘rule’ was strictly followed was the grand feasts at the beginning and end of the year. Still, she seemed a little tense. He could hear he she shifted nervously in her seat, the way her breath was just a little more shallow than normal.

“Apple tart?” Sebastian said, offering it out to her. She took it.

“Thank you.”

“Do you have another?” Ominis asked.

“Nope,” Sebastian said, eating the last bite of his own tart. She chuckled from beside the two of them.

“Wonderful. Glad to see you’re already favoring your new friendship,” Ominis said dryly.

“Well, she hasn’t ever done anything to piss me off,” Sebastian reasoned.

“I can’t promise it’ll stay that way,” she said.

Sebastian shrugged. “S’alright. I’ll still prefer you to Ominis any day.”

Her laugh was cut short, and Ominis quickly assumed why. “Is she looking at us?”

“She did for a moment,” she said softly. “But she’s gone to sit down now. She… she seems fine.”

The three were quiet for a moment before Sebastian changed the subject by offering her some bacon.

The days passed much the same as that breakfast had. It was strange, Ominis thought, that she hadn’t been by their side for so much longer. Letting her into their group had nearly been effortless. Part of Ominis thought it was because he and Sebastian had always been so used to a trio. She filled the space Anne had left. But it was more than that—she brought her own things to the table. They were quick to realize that she was a Ravenclaw, through and through. She was always learning something new. From practicing charms to memorizing her favorite poems to picking up new hobbies, there was always something. And she was always eager to share it with the both of them.

Ominis found it quite endearing when she would track him down in the library, tossing a book on the table, ready to show off whatever new trick she’d learned. She didn’t always get it perfect, of course—at least not on the first try. But her determination to figure out where she had gone wrong was impressive.

“What are you doing now?” he asked, hearing her fiddle with something as they sat across from each other in the library.

“Knitting,” she answered. She paused for a moment, observing her work. “At least, I’m trying to knit. I’m not sure I’ve quite got it right.”

“Knitting?” he asked, small smirk on his face. “Is there anything you haven’t tried your hand at yet?”

“Oh, plenty. But I’ll get around to them eventually, I’m sure.”

He chuckled, leaving his textbook on the table as he turned his attention more fully to her. “What sort of things have you already mastered?”

“Mastered is a bit of a stretch, but there are a fair few things I’d consider myself adequate at,” she said. “I’ve tried my hand at embroidery, sewing, crochet… there wasn’t a lot to do in the manor growing up. I had to entertain myself most of the time, so I made it a habit to try whatever I could.” She smiled. “There was even a summer I got pretty good at baking. Of course, when my father caught wind that Diane was sneaking me into the kitchens, he put a stop to it real quick.”

He felt the slight shift in her mood, and knew her mind was wandering into unpleasant memories. It was a feeling he knew.

“Diane?” he asked, hoping to shift away her worries for a moment.

“She’s a servant at our manor. She’s… well, she’s wonderful. Raised me more than my parents ever did,” she said. “She’s the only thing I miss when I’m not home.”

He hummed. “Seems like she would get my approval, sneaking you into the kitchens and all that.”

She laughed. “What about you? Any Dianes you have, or did I just get that lucky?”

Ominis smiled fondly. “My Aunt Noctua. Truly the only good thing to ever come from my bloodline,” he said.

“Besides yourself,” she amended.

“It’s all thanks to her,” he said. “She always treated me kindly, even before I got my wand and could prove myself. When my mother would complain about how hard it was to raise me, she’d take me to her home for a few days, telling me I didn’t have to believe her. I didn’t have to believe any of them.”

He trailed off a bit, getting lost in the strange mix of hopeful and heartbreaking memories. “She was the only person I ever considered real family.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Was?” she asked softly.

He gave a solemn nod. “She disappeared several years ago. No one knows what happened to her. My father didn’t ever seem too concerned about her fate, and I was too young to do anything about it.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s alright,” he said. “I miss her terribly. But having known her makes me all the more determined to become someone she’d be proud of.”

She reached across the table, placing a hand on his wrist. “I think you’re well on your way to doing that,” she told him. “It seems a part of her lives on in you.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, mouth gaping open as a strange prickling started behind his eyes. He cleared his throat. “Thank you. She’d be happy to see me have a friend like you.”

The topic changed after that. He asked more about knitting, more about baking and Muggle books and poetry. She didn’t hesitate to share these parts of her. And he didn’t hesitate to memorize every word.

Mere days before, he’d worried his worst fears were true. That there was no one he could trust. That he was doomed to be as lonely as he’d always been.

How glad he was that he was wrong.

Chapter Seven

A/N: Oh my gosh thank you thank you THANK YOU for all the kind comments and asks I've received recently for this series!!! Seriously, it's made me so excited to keep writing it! You're all amazing, I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)

TAGLIST:

@skarathewitch (it wouldn't let me tag you ahhh I'm sorry! @cherryflavoredcoke @phoenix666stuff @wt-fxck@shameless0shenanigans @fitzs-trained-monkey @mxmia @vee-mage (same with you sorry!!) @myrachondria

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #hogwarts legacy #ominis x you #ominis x reader #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis gaunt headcannon #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x you #ominis #hogwarts legacy ominis

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hbyrde36 · 6 months

Text

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 10

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 ao3 link

CW: Smut/NSFW

*Steve*

Sometimes in life there are people you just click with. Within hours of meeting them you know you’ll be friends for life, and it feels like you’ve known them forever.

Steve had a feeling that was exactly what happened between him and Robin during their insane car ride back to the trailer park.

She wasn’t the type of person he normally gravitated towards, not that normality held any sort of meaning in his life these days. Robin was blunt, with no filter to speak of, all the while being just a little bit awkward. She didn’t care that Steve had been missing, apart from the fact that she wanted all the gory details, for curiosity’s sake of course. Not in a cruel way, by the end it was clear that she had sympathy for all that he and the others had been through, but she was the first person to hear his story and not look at him with some level of pity. Even Eddie, who had been so great to Steve even as his own world began to come apart at the seams, had given him the look once or twice.

It was a little harder to concentrate on The Talk while he was driving, especially when he was so woefully out of practice after not having been behind the wheel of a car for so long. At least with Chrissy he’d been to give her his full attention, but Robin didn’t seem to mind the rambling way he explained things, and seemed to follow his off-the-track train of thought just fine. She poked fun at him whenever it was appropriate, and even once or twice when it wasn’t (though somehow Steve knew she meant no harm), and it made him feel wonderfully human again, and a little less broken.

“Jesus. You’re nothing like you used to be are you?” Robin said at one point.

“How so?” Steve asked, a little amused.

“If someone had tried to tell me that Steve Harrington, the same douchebag who asked dumb questions and dropped bagel crumbs on the floor in Click’s class every single fucking morning, would give a shit about some girl he found in the woods, I would have told them they were crazy.”

Oh.

He didn’t remember sharing any classes with Robin, but obviously they had. Maybe he was a douchebag.

Steve shrugged. “I guess…people change.”

“Clearly.” Robin said, huffing a laugh.

She paused for a moment and he glanced at her, noting the way she narrowed her eyes at him before continuing on. “But I'm not sure that’s it. I think maybe you’ve always been a good guy, it's just that no one ever expected you to be so they didn’t think to notice, and maybe, neither did you.”

Steve didn’t know what to say after that.

It wasn’t long before they were nearing the entrance to the trailer park, the car quiet for the moment save for the dulcet tones of top 40 radio coming from it’s speaker system.

“So, Eddie just happened to be the one to find you, huh?” Robin said softly, almost conspiratorial as he made the final turn into Forest Hills.

She nudged his shoulder with a knowing look in her eye. Steve wasn’t all that surprised that she had picked up on the energy between him and Eddie. She'd seen up close the way he had rushed to Eddie's side, maybe even clocked the way their touch had lingered as they stood there in the yard talking to her.

He’d certainly noticed the very not-straight way in which Robin had perked up when she spotted Chrissy Cunningham in their midst, and then immediately agreed to go with them.

Something else they had in common then.

Steve felt his face grow a little warm and glanced in the rear view mirror to see if any of his other passengers were listening in. They seemed to be otherwise occupied. Max was tucked into Chrissy’s side, listening to Lucas talking softly as he held her hand. Chrissy herself was staring out the window seemingly lost in thought, and Billy was unlikely to hear anything from where he was, locked in the trunk.

The urge to spill his guts to Robin about his feelings for Eddie was strong. It was miles ahead of where they should be as acquaintances go, and if that level of trust felt a little unearned, well, Steve would just roll with it anyway. Eddie had, in his way, predicted this budding friendship and Steve couldn’t help but trust in that. He had been right about far too many things thus-far not to. They had all accepted the bad premonitions without blinking so why not accept something good too?

Unfortunately, opening up to Robin would also mean outing Eddie without his permission, and Steve would never want to hurt him or anyone else like that. He and Eddie needed to talk anyway- about what they were to each other now, if anything, and how comfortable each of them was with others knowing. Steve decided that if Eddie gave him the greenlight he would tell Robin everything, but for now he would keep it to himself, mostly.

“I like to think we found each other.” He replied, unable to keep from smiling like an idiot at the memory.

In more ways than one.

She didn’t seem offended that he hadn’t confirmed or denied her subtle implication, and, as though she perfectly understood why he hadn’t, she didn’t push. He loved her a little bit for that, this girl he had only just met. It wasn’t often that people understood him like that, took the time to see past the packaging and really look.

“I don’t know what me and El would have done if he hadn’t been out there in the woods. We probably would have been caught and dragged back to the lab by now.”

She stared at the side of his face for a long time. It wasn’t until he parked in front of the Munson trailer and the others started to climb out that she spoke again, placing a hand on his arm to stop him from moving just yet.

“Why did you risk it tonight- being seen?”

Steve blinked at her, confused because, wasn’t it obvious? “We knew Max could be in trouble…it…we had to do something.”

Robin shook her head. “Even from what little I've seen and heard I know the others could have handled it without you. You could have stayed behind, safely hidden at Castle Munson with your magical little sister. Why did YOU risk it?”

He shrugged, not quite knowing how to answer, not that she waited for him to give one.

“I’ll tell you what I think. I think you’ve got a self sacrificial streak a mile wide.”

“I don’t…” He started to protest.

“Listen, Steve. It's shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you. I don't know how much I truly understand about what’s happening here, or what the future is going to bring if this Vecna creep really exists, but…try not to get yourself killed, okay? I think we could be really good friends, if you can manage to stick around long enough.”

They left Billy in the trunk.

Sure it was dark enough out to obscure their faces, but Steve knew that if anyone in the park did happen to look out their window it wouldn't be hard to make out the shape of two guys dragging a body out of a trunk. Also, with Hopper having arrived while they were gone and the addition of Max, Chrissy, and Robin to the party, they were honestly running out of standing room inside the trailer.

So, Billy could stay where he was for now, and at least this way they could feel Hopper out before making him aware of their latest crime.

Steve walked over to the van just as Eddie was getting out of it. He smiled broadly and it warmed Steve down to his toes. He wanted to kiss him, to brush lips over each of his dimples in turn before focusing his attention on that mouth.

Nancy and Jonathan came spilling down the front steps of the trailer, just in time to bring Steve back to his senses.

The couple’s eyes settled on Max, taking in her pale face and the way she clung to Lucas and Chrissy.

“Was it?” Nancy gasped, looking to him for answers as she wrung her hands.

“Henry, yes. We- we got there just in time.” Steve said.

She nodded, looking a little like she was in shock until Jonathan took hold of one of her hands and the two of them began to try and wrangle their brothers and the other kids.

“Hey guys, I'm sorry but we have to get you all home.” Jonathan called out.

Mike, Will, and Dustin all erupted into a cacophony of whining and complaints. Lucas was too focused on Max and she was watching the entire scene unfold with wide eyes.

“C’mon Will, you know how mom gets when you’re gone for too long.” Jonathan said, which quieted Will and Dustin pretty quickly. They all knew his mom had never quite been the same since ‘83.

“You too Mike.” Nancy added. “Do you even know what time it is? It’s a school night. Mom will freak out if we don’t get you home soon.”

“Oh please.” Mike spat. “Who cares about shit like school right now?!”

“Mike!” Nancy shouted

“What? It's bullshit Nancy! We’re just supposed to go on like everything is normal? When-”

Mike glanced around and lowered his voice, at least having the wherewithal to be quiet as he continued to argue with his sister.

“- when Eddie has fucking powers now and Steve is- I don’t know what the hell, and Eleven is real, and in danger, and there’s some evil wizard out there trying to kill our friends?!”

“That's exactly what you’re going to do. For now.” The booming voice of Jim Hopper came from behind them and the whole group turned as a unit, only just noticing that the man had stepped out onto the front porch and had been listening in.

Shit.

They were definitely not being careful enough.

Hopper shook his head at all of them as he tapped his hat on his leg.

“Anyone who’s staying, get inside. The rest of you- go home, and for the love of god keep your mouths shut about all of this!” He turned, grumbling, “There’s too many of you involved already,” to himself as he went back into the trailer.

“Who put him in charge?” Mike sneered.

“He’s a cop, I think they’re just wired that way.” Dustin said.

“He’s actually not a bad guy once you get to know him.” Max cut in, speaking for the first time since they’d left her house.

Everyone stared at her in surprise and she crossed her arms over her chest, a little of the attitude Steve had heard the boys talking about beginning to break through as she spoke again.

“Between Billy and Neil you don’t think we have the cops coming to our door every other weekend? Please...” She rolled her eyes. “Hopper might sound grumpy but he’s really just a teddy bear.”

“I heard that Mayfield!” Hopped bellowed from inside the house.

Max giggled as the rest of the group continued to look at her in amazement.

“What?! He takes me to the diner sometimes for milkshakes when things get bad.” She said with a shrug.

Everyone said their goodbyes and the remaining members of the party paraded inside.

Eddie went right to his uncle, whispering something in the man’s ear that made him drop his head into his hands and give the most long-suffering sigh that Steve had ever heard. Wayne walked off towards the hall closet a moment later mumbling something under his breath about a tarp.

Hopper was oddly subdued as Steve, Eddie, Chrissy, Robin and Max piled into the living room. Although, upon closer inspection Steve realized the man was trembling with anger. He was just on that level of angry where he was very fucking quietly seething and even Max was eyeing the man warily.

Wayne quickly found what he was looking for, which appeared to be a medium sized blue tarp and headed straight back out the front door. Steve and Eddie shared a look, rushing to follow behind the older man.

Steve popped the trunk to reveal Billy, staring up at them, eyes shining with rage and struggling against his restraints.

“Oh. He’s alive.” Wayne said, and began unfolding the sheet of plastic.

Eddie bent down so he could get his face as close to Billy's as possible and whispered threateningly in his ear. “You can keep struggling while we carry you inside if you want, but don’t be surprised when we drop your ass and you get hurt.”

Billy continued to glare but seemed to see the wisdom in Eddie’s words and stopped flailing, at least for the time being. They laid the tarp over him, tucking it under loosely to make sure he could still breathe and then together they awkwardly carried the bundle inside.

Hopper stared as the three of them reentered the living room and dumped the lumpy blue package unceremoniously on the couch, quickly unwrapping it.

“Jesus Christ! ...What? ...Why?” Hopper shouted as he began pacing around the small space. ‘You know what, no. I don't even want to know.”

He stopped in his tracks suddenly and growled in frustration. “No… no. Fuck. God damnit. I need to know. Spill.” Hopper stood in front of Eddie and Steve with his hands in his pockets and waited for them to explain.

As they did, with Eddie doing most of the heavy lifting, El appeared holding a stack of comic books she must have borrowed from Eddie's room. She took hold of Steve’s hand and smiled up at him. He could see the relief on her face that he’d returned safely and he felt a new surge of guilt for leaving her. He squeezed her hand to say he was sorry, to say he loved her, and she squeezed back.

When it was all done Eddie plopped down on the couch as far from Billy as he could manage. Everyone present ignored him as they continued to discuss things.

Hopper sighed. “I can’t say I'm happy about this, and I'm sure there were better ways to go about dealing with Hargrove here, but I'm glad you were there to help Max.” He admitted.

“Exactly Jim, that’s what matters here.” Wayne agreed, earning himself a little side eye from the Chief.

“Alright, so it sounds like she’s safe enough for now, assuming this music business keeps working but what’s the plan? Do we wait for this guy to attack again or are we going to try and take him on his own turf?” Hopper asked.

“We tried that already, in the game. Some of the party went into the Upside-Down while others tried to distract him. It, uh, didn’t work.”

“It didn’t work AND you died.” Steve corrected, taking the seat right next to Eddie. He wanted to take the other boy’s hand but settled for sitting closer than what might be considered strictly friendly.

“But if our only other option is to wait until he starts picking us off, then…” Eddie began to argue, but was interrupted by a frantic woman’s voice calling out over Hopper’s police radio from where it sat on the kitchen counter.

The chief lunged for it and quickly responded. “This is Hop.. Slow down and tell me what’s going on, Flo.”

“Hop?! Thank god. It’s the lab! There’s a huge fire over at Hawkins lab and they need all hands on deck over there.”

“Shit.” Hopper cursed, casting his eyes to the ceiling before clicking the button to respond. “Who’s been called?”

Flo’s voice came cracking over the radio again. “Hawkins Fire is on site now and they put a call in to Cartersville for back up. I sent Powell and Callahan over too but they need you on site to manage everyone.”

“Tell them I'm on my way.” Hopper said, signing off and slamming the radio back down.

Eddie must have sensed the tension growing in Steve as they listened to the call, he tried to hold on to him but Steve was out of his seat like a shot. “You gotta let me come with you.” He said to Hopper.

“Steve!” Eddie yelled at the same time Robin and Chrissy both shouted “No!”

“No, Christ, especially not you! You're in hiding, Steve! You have to stay here!”

“But what if it’s him, Hop?”

“I know, but..”

“It can’t be a coincidence!”

“I know!”

“You might need my help. Even if it’s not Henry, you don’t know what they’ve done, the things they have in that lab!”

“I KNOW!” Hopper shouted, loud enough that Steve flinched and El put her hands over her ears.

Hoper took Steve by the shoulders, the look on his face was still intense but his touch was gentle. “I know. Okay, kid? I get it, but I won't risk you going back there. I won’t risk any of you. I promise I'll come back as soon as I can and I'll tell you all about it.”

Steve nodded, a little dumbfounded that the man seemed to care so much. Then he remembered someone else who cared, if only a little and he stopped Hopper just before he had made his way out the door.

“There’s someone who works at the lab,” Steve began. “A Dr. Owens. He’s…he helped us. He saw me and El escaping and he let us go. I think he might be a good guy.”

“Owens. Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.” He gave Steve an awkward but well meant pat on the shoulder, and then he was gone.

Steve stood by the door staring, mind reeling wondering how the hell this could have happened and what could it mean? He wanted to be thrilled at the prospect of that hellish place burning to the ground, it was a thing he’d dreamed about doing himself dozens of times since he and Eleven had met. Now though, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this couldn’t be good news.

A warm hand landed on Steve's lower back. The touch was firm and grounding. He knew by the scent of leather and denim and just a hint of cigarette smoke that it was Eddie.

“You okay?” He said softly, and for Steve’s ears alone.

“For now. I should check on El though.”

“I think she’s doing just fine.”

At that Steve finally turned around and saw that El had walked up to Max. It sounded like she was introducing herself. She took the redhead’s hand, urging her to follow her into the kitchen. Max looked back at Chrissy as though she were asking if it was okay. Chrissy smiled and gave an encouraging nod.

As the two girls walked off to the kitchen, they could hear El saying. “Come on, Mr. Wayne makes the best hot chocolate.”

Steve wasn’t fooled into thinking she didn’t care about what was happening at the lab, but the girl had a remarkable way of carrying on through the bad shit. Helping Max feel better would make her feel better too, and it seemed like both girls could use a friend so Steve didn't want to interfere.

He and Eddie made their way back to the couch and the girls, Eddie’s hand remained a steady presence on his back. He wasn’t sure if Chrissy noticed but Robin clearly did, and sent him a smirk to prove it.

“Looks like Red imprinted on you like a baby duck, Chris.” Eddie joked, though Steve knew he meant it.

“Yeah, I think she sees you as the person who saved her.” He added.

Chrissy frowned. “But, I didn't do anything. You…”

“You caught her.” Eddie interrupted. “You held her hand and told her it would be alright. She feels safe with you.”

“Oh, I don't know if I…” Chrissy trailed off.

“Listen, Chrissy, you don’t have to stay involved with this if you don’t want to. You’re a target, there's no changing that but we’ll do our best to shield you even if you want no part of this.” Steve bit at his lip, he couldn’t help offering her an out. They’d told everyone the truth to keep them safe but he knew how overwhelming it all must be. “I know what it is to get pulled into this stuff, to find yourself feeling responsible for someone you didn’t expect. It’s a lot.”

“No, I want to help. For the two of you, for Max and for myself.” Chrissy said, sitting up a little straighter in her seat. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. I do have to go home soon though, or my mom will worry and she can be a lot.”

“Same!” Robin said abruptly and a little too loud. “I mean, uh me too. About the staying involved thing. Also the home thing because gotta tell you- my dad? Craaaazy conspiracy theorist. He’s the one you can thank for me believing you about all this crap by the way. Unfortunately that also means I can’t just disappear or he’ll panic.”

As her ramble came to an end Robin’s cheeks reddened. Eddie was staring at her, in his defense he hadn’t yet been exposed to Robin's particular style of speaking yet since they’d ridden in separate cars before, but Steve didn’t think his attention was the reason for Robin’s sudden flush. Chrissy was smiling at her widely and leaning into her a little, amused by her speech and Robin was panicking.

She was saved by a knock on the door. Three sharp raps from god knew who. It was far too soon to be Hopper coming back, and they certainly weren’t expecting anyone. Eddie moved to answer and Steve followed, hiding behind the door so as not to be seen.

Eddie tried to open the door just a crack but the person on the other side forced it wide and suddenly Jason Carver stumbled inside screaming for Chrissy.

“Where’s Chrissy? I know you’ve got her here, Munson. Chrissy!” Jason shouted, any remaining words dying on his lips as he took in the odd gathering he’d just crashed. His eyes fell on his girlfriend first, well, ex-girlfriend now from what Chrissy had told Steve. He moved towards her but stopped, eyes growing wide as he spotted Billy all tied up, who’d started struggling again with renewed enthusiasm now that there was someone new in their midst.

He backed up, unfortunately bumping into Eddie in the process and he jumped, screaming again. Steve watched him take it all in, Robin, Wayne and the girls in the kitchen, and then finally Steve himself.

“Harrington?” He mumbled stumbling to the side. He took one last look at Chrissy and then he bolted. He was out the door and in his car before any of them could react. Steve still had Billy’s keys and so he ran out after him, but Jason’s car was tearing down the road before he’d gotten halfway to the Camaro.

“Don’t worry about it, son.” Wayne said as they regrouped.

“He’s gonna be a problem.” Eddie insisted.

“Not much he’ll be able to do in one night. Hopper will handle it. Go on and get those girls home so we can all get some sleep. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

Steve had offered to stay behind and help Wayne keep an eye on Billy, as well as Max and El while Eddie drove the older girls home, but Wayne insisted they stick together.

Robin was dropped off first, they watched her stumble into the house half dazed after Chrissy had given her a hug goodbye. Steve caught Eddie’s eye and they shared a look, knowing they had both seen the same thing.

Chrissy was next, and In the back of Steve’s mind he knew they would have to pass right by his old house to take her home. They were neighbors. He just hadn’t thought about what it would be like to see the place again or how the sight of a for sale sign in the front yard would make him feel more abandoned than ever.

He didn’t say any of that out loud of course but he should have known that Eddie would sense something was up anyway.

Once Chrissy was safely inside, Eddie pulled away, turning in the opposite direction from the trailer park. Before Steve could form the words to ask what he was doing, Eddie was parking the van along the side yard of a house where the bushes were thick enough to hide the vehicle's presence from anyone who might be home.

Eddie turned in his seat, facing Steve. “It’s totally up to you, but do you want to go back to your old house? Just to see the place or maybe to get some of your old stuff?”

“Won’t someone see us?”

Eddie pointed out a path he couldn’t quite see and explained. “Through those trees and two backyards is the back of your place. I snuck in before, I can do it again.”

“Didn’t you get caught last time, sort of?”

“Technically, but I think Hopper is a little busy right now so we should be fine. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can just go back, as long as you don’t mind borrowing my old sweatpants, ripped jeans, and worn out band tees.”

Steve ran his fingers absently over the faded Iron Maiden logo that was plastered across his chest. He was still wearing the clothes Eddie loaned him the night before.

“I think they look better on you, but kinda like wearing your clothes. I like that they smell like you.”

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and curled his fingers tightly around the steering wheel. “Steve, you can’t just say shit like that.” He groaned. “And you're wrong. You have no idea how good you look, what it does to me to see you in my clothes. I would have thought that was obvious with the way I embarrassed myself when you stepped out of the bathroom last night.”

“I thought you were looking at me like that because of how much of a mess I am.” Steve admitted, running a hand through his hair self-consciously.

Eddie took Steve's other hand and laced their fingers together, eyes full of sincerity as he said, “Sweetheart, I was looking at you like that because I had to physically stop myself from jumping over the counter to eat you.”

Sweetheart.

“Oh.” Steve breathed.

“Yeah.”

“I would have let you.”

Eddie grinned. “I think I’m starting to get that.”

Steve leaned in and Eddie met him in the middle, rubbing his thumb over the back of Steve's hand as their lips met. Steve melted into the kiss, he had been wanting to do this for hours but the two of them hadn’t really been alone since Eddie had left to pick the kids up from school. It was an effort to keep himself from climbing over the center console and straddling the other boy’s lap. He could have stayed there with their lips locked together for hours but as hidden as they might be it still wasn't a good idea for them to linger for too long.

Steve pulled back from the kiss reluctantly and let his forehead rest against Eddie's while he considered what he wanted to do.

“I think I want to go in.” He said, finally.

“Okay.” Eddie said, pressing a kiss to the back of Steve’s hand before letting it go.

As they snuck through trees and backyard shadows Eddie whispered to Steve all about how he had snuck into the abandoned Harrington house the first time by crawling through the laundry room window, shedding layers to fit through the small opening which was how Hopper had found him out.

When they finally made it to Steve’s backyard, Eddie headed right for the window again, not noticing that Steve had broken away and was no longer following him.

As much as Steve would get a kick out of watching Eddie pull himself up through the small opening, he recalled that when he was younger his mother used to keep a spare key to the back door hidden in a flower pot so that he could let himself in after school. Sure enough, the second pot he checked had a small rusty key sitting under it.

Steve smiled to himself and jogged over to where Eddie was. He’d already removed the screen and was starting to push at the glass. He stopped as Steve dangled the key in front of his face. “I thought maybe you’d prefer using a door this time so you don’t risk losing your vest again.”

“Where did you? …How?” Eddie sputtered.

“Did you even try to look for a hide-a-key the last time, Eds?” Steve said, laughing a little at the incredulous look on Eddie’s face.

It was downright eerie inside the house. Steve had been home alone a lot growing up and It had always been a little creepy and quiet. He was used to it. Sometimes he’d even play a little game with himself, a challenge where he’d see how long he could stand the silence before giving in and turning on the television or radio for company. What he wasn’t used to was the way his and Eddie’s footsteps echoed now in the empty space.

There was something about the lack of stuff, or maybe the sheets covering the few remaining pieces of furniture that made Steve want to crawl out of his skin.

“Is it all like this?” Steve asked.

Eddie hesitated for a beat but answered. “Pretty much, yeah. Except for your room. I…I don’t know why, but they left it all the way it was.”

“If they thought I was dead they probably just didn't care. Would have let whoever bought the place chuck it all out, or keep what they wanted.”

Eddie was quiet, likely not knowing what to say but began rubbing soothing circles into his back.

“It’s okay. I’m… I know I should be numb to it by now.”

“Hey, Stevie no. You’re allowed to feel however you want to feel.”

“Could you…” Steve trailed off, biting nervously on the inside of his cheek.

“What is it, what do you need?”

“I don’t want to see anymore, do you think you could just grab some of my clothes for me? There should be an old gym bag in my closet.”

“Of course.” Eddie said quickly, leaning in to kiss Steve on the cheek. “I'll be right back.”

Eddie was fast. He was back within 5 minutes carrying a small duffel bag that looked full to bursting. He took Steve’s hand and squeezed. Steve squeezed back as Eddie pulled him out the door.

“Come on.” Eddie said. “Let’s go home.”

When they got back Uncle Wayne was sitting on the couch, newspaper held up to his face reading, while a sullen looking and still tied up Billy was sitting on the other end looking half asleep.

“I tucked the girls into my bed for the night. They wanted to wait up for you two, but little Red was pretty tired so it wasn’t too hard to talk them into it. I’ll be alright out here, I assume you boys don’t mind sharing Ed’s room?” Wayne said with a pointed look.

“Yeah, that’s… we’re fine.” Eddie muttered, blushing. “What about him?” He asked, gesturing to their captive.

“We can’t keep him like this, and we don’t know how long Hopper is going to be or if he could even come up with an excuse to hold him.” Steve said.

“We already tried to reason with him once.” Eddie argued.

Steve hadn’t even realized that Wayne had left until suddenly the man returned, marching back into the room with a shotgun held loosely in his hands. The older man walked straight past them and over to Billy, shoving the barrel of the weapon right in his face.

“Okay boy, I hope you're listening because I'm only going to say this once. If you do or say anything that might remotely expose or endanger either of my boys or their friends, I will personally see you dead, do you hear me?”

Wayne paused, waiting for some signal from Billy that he was listening. He gave a small almost imperceptible nod. Wayne lowered the shotgun and harshly ripped the tape from Billy’s mouth. He winced but didn’t cry out although it had to have hurt.

“I ain't afraid of your piece a shit father either so don’t even think about getting him involved in this.”

Billy grit his teeth but nodded again, looking off in the direction of Wayne’s bedroom where they could all hear Max and Eleven still awake and giggling together.

“The girl stays.” Wayne said, interrupting before Billy could even ask. “In fact, consider that part of our agreement letting you leave here with your balls intact. You cover for that girl with your parents, make up whatever story you have to but she’s staying with us until this mess is over with. My boys are the only ones who can keep her safe now.”

Billy agreed to their terms and with no better options they cut off his bindings and let him go, though it pained Steve to return the keys to such a beautiful car.

It wasn’t as awkward as it probably should have been, climbing into bed with Eddie for the first time, each of them wearing nothing but boxers. It probably had something to do with how exhausted he was, the need for sleep overpowering any anxiety Steve would have felt in the situation under normal circumstances.

He still wanted to talk with Eddie about what they were doing. He was trying not to get too hung up on labels, and he knew in reality it had only been one day of them kissing, one day of them knowing that they liked each other, and there were so many bigger things to be worried about. But life was unpredictable, you could never truly know what was coming next or how much time you had. Wasn’t that the whole reason Steve had thrown himself at Eddie that morning in the first place? But now just didn’t seem to be the time. He didn’t want to risk popping their delicate bubble just yet.

They both layed down on their sides, the bed too small to allow for much else. With Steve facing Eddie's back and no more than a few inches separating them. Steve tried to just go to sleep but it felt wrong to be that close to Eddie and not be touching him. He slowly eased his arm around Eddie's waist and scooted closer letting his chest press up against the warmth of Eddie's back.

“Is this okay?” Steve whispered.

In response Eddie took hold of Steve's arm and pulled, wrapping it even tighter around himself as he leaned back into his hold. Suddenly Steve’s cock was pressed firmly against Eddie's ass and he began to grow hard almost immediately. He buried his face in the back of Eddie’s neck, embarrassed, and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down but it only made things worse. It was all he could do to keep from grinding against him.

“Sorry.” Steve whispered again and tried to back away.

Eddie chased right after him, turning so they could face each other and pulled Steve back into a tight embrace. With their fronts pressed so firmly together there was no hiding that he was hard too. Steve groaned and captured Eddie’s mouth with his own, their tongues finding each other quickly as the kiss became messy and desperate. Steve found himself whining into Eddie's mouth as the other boy slotted his thigh between his legs, providing pressure and friction in the place he was most desperate for it.

For a moment his entire world narrowed down to nothing but Eddie. The feel of his lips, the way his arms fell around Steve's body, the way they shared breath, It all felt so good.

Too good, actually.

Steve froze, afraid of ruining their good time before it had even begun.

Eddie stilled too, breaking their kiss. He brought a hand up to caress the side of Steve's face, pushing a few stray hairs out of the way as he looked deep into his eyes.

“Do you want to stop?”.

“No.” Steve admitted, softly. “It’s just that I’m… a little out of practice.”

“It’s okay. I mean, I…” Eddie trailed off.

Steve nuzzled into Eddie's touch and closed his eyes. He couldn’t believe he was about to admit this out loud, but he had to say it. “No, I…Eddie, I haven't even touched myself in two years.”

“What?”

“The lab…there were cameras everywhere, even in my room. I mean, the shower was private I think but…”

“You didn’t feel comfortable.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so how about this. Why don’t you just lay back and let me take care of you.” Eddie’s hand disappeared from his face and began to slide down his chest leaving behind a trail of tingling skin.

Steve made a noise low in his throat “Eddie, I…”

“I promise I'll be gentle.” Eddie teased.

“That’s not what I'm worried about.” Steve gasped as Eddie’s hand moved lower, thumb pressing into the dip of his hip.

“And what are you worried about?”

“That I'm gonna cum the second you touch me.”

“I think that would be pretty fucking hot.”

Steve whined again and Eddie leaned in, kissing a wet line up Steve’s neck and taking his earlobe between his teeth.

“Can I touch you?” Eddie asked, his hot breath in Steve’s ear making his whole body break out into goosebumps.

“Yes.” Steve breathed.

Eddie pulled his leg out from between Steve’s and gently urged him onto his back. He ran teasing fingers up and down each of Steve’s thighs, getting closer and closer to his groin with each pass.

Finally, finally, Eddie dipped his hand into the waistband of Steve's borrowed underwear and wrapped his hand around his leaking cock. The simple touch drove Steve wild, his entire body growing impossibly hot with desire. Eddie stroked him slowly, it was dry save for the small amount of precum he was dripping, and a little bit clumsy, as though Eddie was as nervous and unsure as he was, but none of that made it any less earth shattering.

Tears streamed out of Steve's eyes as he bucked his hips, thrusting up into Eddie’s grip. He was overwhelmed and so close already.

“It’s okay baby, just let go. I've got you.” Eddie soothed as he kissed the tears away and continued to pump Steve's length.

He came with a soft cry and stars bursting along the edges of his vision. He surged up to crash his lips into Eddie’s, wanting to taste his mouth again as he worked him through his release.

Steve barely gave himself a moment to recover before attempting to return the favor. If he was honest he couldn’t wait to get his hands on Eddie for the first time. He hadn’t been with another guy before, not having discovered himself until he was locked away, but he knew what he liked and he thought it wouldn't be too hard to translate that to touching someone else.

He tried to reach for Eddie and found the other boy scooting away.

“You don’t have to…” Eddie started.

Steve was confused for a moment, almost hurt, until Eddie sighed and explained.

“I, um, came when you did.”

He sounded embarrassed, which was crazy to Steve. “That’s..”

“Sad?” Eddie said.

Steve couldn’t help it, he rolled himself half on top of Eddie, uncaring that they were both a bit wet and sticky and all but jammed his tongue down Eddie's throat.

He eventually broke the kiss, both of them panting. “That’s so hot, just like you said. That’s really fucking hot, Eds.”

“Oh.”

Eddie shimmied himself out of his boxers and helped Steve out of his own, both wanting to get them off before the mess could dry further. They didn’t bother putting anything else on, what was the point when it felt so good to be skin to skin. They continued to make out as they settled back under the covers, but It wasn’t long before long their kisses turned lazy, the day catching up with them as well as the afterglow.

Steve was almost asleep when the worry started to creep back into the back of his mind, and he couldn’t help thinking out loud. “Do you think the kids and everyone will be okay?”

Eddie, who had his arms wrapped around Steve, tightened his grip and dropped a kiss to Steve's temple as he replied.

“Yeah, they know what we’re up against. Red’s got El with her, and her headphones. Chrissy promised us she’d get hers on too as soon as got inside. The boys will take care of eachother, and they have Nancy and Jonathan too. Lucas lives right next to the Wheelers so he can sneak over there if he’s afraid to be alone. They’ll be alright.”

There was still plenty that could go wrong, Steve knew, but for tonight he let himself believe that everything would be okay.

Chapter 11

Thank you @penny00dreadful 💜

Taglist: @newtstabber @goodolefashionedloverboi @adaed5 @buckleybarnes @soaringornithopter @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @bestwifehaver @5ammi90 @sofadofax @ellietheasexylibrarian @manda-panda-monium @hardboiledleggs @mentallyundone @epiclazershark @herebedragons404 @estrellami-1 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @the-s-is-silent @brbsoulnomming @goinsteddie @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga

#steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve and el sibling supremacy #good uncle wayne #chrissy cunningham #max mayfield #robin buckley #canon is just a crazy game of d&d #sort of #ao3 #steddie fic #steve x eddie #fanfic

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storiesofsvu · 11 months

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Love Comes Quietly Ch 6

Alex Blake x reader warnings: language, some minor chaos not sure how much i like this chapter, and i honestly feel like t's been way too fucking long since i've written but i know that's not true. but we're moving forward and getting more plot so... yeah... dont hate me lololol.

It wasn’t often that Alex woke up to an empty house and if you’d asked her, she say that today, it felt rather strange. She’d gotten so used to you being around in the mornings that even despite knowing you had to be at work early, something was almost… off about it. She couldn’t help but smile at the coffee pot being full, a little sticky note stuck to the outside with a smiley face on it. She was ever thankful for your thoughtfulness, pouring herself out a mug before getting started on her breakfast. She was even more thankful that it was Friday and the weekend was finally on the horizon. Not that it had been an overly stressful week or anything, you hadn’t even had to leave DC area for a case, it had been a pretty boring week, she was just excited for a break.

Finally she managed to drag herself away from the crossword, having to leave it half completed so she wasn’t late for work herself. Grabbing her bag she tucked her lunch inside it and scooped up her keys, heading to the front door and it was there she found the entry way table scattered with today’s mail. Mail that had clearly distracted you on your way out the door, a container and a now stone cold coffee sitting beside the envelopes. She chuckled, scooping up the container before letting herself out of the house.

You hadn’t been concerned at all about your six month review, after all it was just with Emily and you knew that you’d been doing your job and meeting if not exceeding expectations. She’d gone over a handful of things with you, asked if you had any questions and then the two of you had spent another near half hour in her office chatting. Eventually she got a phone call and you muttered something about finishing up paperwork so you didn’t have to take it home with you, returning to your desk.

Which is exactly where Alex found you when she got into the office.

“Think you might be missing something.” She smirked, sliding the Tupperware out of her bag and onto your desk, “and I picked you up a fresh refill.” A steaming Starbucks cup made home next to your forgotten lunch and you glanced up to her with a wide smile.

“Oh you are a godsend!” You reached out to grab the coffee, taking a sip, completely unsurprised when she’d picked up your seasonal favourite, “thank you. I didn’t even realize.”

“You would have by lunch time.”

“You’ve got me there.” You laughed.

“What was so distracting in that mail?”

“Nothing exciting.” Rolling your eyes you took another sip, “late car payment, they didn’t update my address when I asked. Got it taken care of on the drive in though.”

“Good.” She smiled softly, “you want me to throw that in the fridge?”

“That’d be amazing, thank you.” You flashed her a smile before turning back to your work and Alex picked up the container, dropping her bag at her desk before disappearing into the break room. While she was in there she figured why not and fixed a second mug of coffee for herself.

“Morning.” Emily’s voice rang through the air as Alex tossed the stir stick into the garbage, glancing up at the other woman.

“Morning.” She shot her a warm smile over the brim of her cup, watching Emily pick up the coffee pot, draining it of liquid. She added cream and sugar into the mug before quickly refilling the machine to brew again. “That long of a day already?” She asked with a laugh and Emily huffed her own laugh out.

“It’s the extra early mornings, they’re just not for me.” Emily shook her head, taking a sip of her coffee, “did you know that Murphy got up early enough to go for a run before coming in today?”

“I was still blissfully dead to the world.” Alex replied with a chuckle.

Emily’s phone pinged and she let out a sigh, doing her best not to roll her eyes, it felt like anyone and everyone was demanding things of her today and it was barely past nine. Her eyes scanned through the email, letting out a huff and she glanced up to Alex.

“I know you just got in, but is there any chance you can make sure to get those reports for the Reyez case to me today?”

“Of course.” Alex nodded, “I’ll put them at the top of my to do list.”

“Thank you.” Emily smiled softly, taking a breath when her phone started ringing. Picking up her very needed coffee she answered, disappearing back into the hallway to retreat back to her office.

The day went on quite like that, everyone had small wrap up assignments, paperwork, or other odd tasks to occupy them. While it was mainly quiet in the bullpen there were little spurts of conversation, debates over topics or call backs to cases if someone needed reminders. Shortly after lunch Alex finished up with her task, knocking on Emily’s office door with an extra coffee in one hand and files in the other.

“Figured you might need a pick me up.” She greeted, placing the mug down on her desk.

“Thank you.” Emily responded, immediately grabbing the mug to take a sip, “you really know how to boost morale.”

“Oh I’m not done yet.” Alex chuckled, revealing the small tub of chocolate covered espresso beans from her pocket, “here. A pick me up always needs an extra afternoon treat too.”

“Well you’ve officially become my favourite team member. Don’t tell the others.”

Alex laughed, settling into a chair across from her desk as she placed the file folders into Emily’s inbox, “I did a follow up call with the girl’s parents, you’ll be happy to know that her recovery’s going well and they’re already done with the nightmares.”

“God you really are the best, aren’t you?” Emily chuckled, “think that’s the part that we always lose track of, we leave town and move onto a new case before we can even really close the last one.”

“Yeah.” Alex frowned slightly, accepting a chocolate treat when Emily offered it to her.

“Okay but I need a break, talk to me about anything aside from work.”

“Do you have big plans for the weekend? Another round of debaucherous mini golf?” She smirked and Emily let out a huff, playfully glaring in her direction.

“Absolutely not. It sounded a lot better than it turned out. I’d prefer this weekend to be hangover free.”

“I heard that McDonald’s ended up not treating you very well.”

“I will never look at a Big Mac the same way again.” She grimaced, “hey, thanks for the hospitality, even if you didn’t know I was there til the next morning.” She laughed, “the house is super nice.”

“Don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing the pool.” Alex teased.

“More like I wanted to drown myself in it that morning.”

“Well I think more than a few of us would be against that.” She chuckled, pulling a laugh from Emily as she took another sip of coffee.

��How’re things at the house? You finding it weird to be living with someone again?” Emily was genuinely interested, at this point she was just trying to distract herself.

“They’re great! We’ve really fallen into a good routine, it’s actually nice to have someone else around all the time again. You know when you’re living alone and it feels like there’s just constantly something to be done, whether it’s cooking or dishes, or cleaning and you have to do it because it’s your mess? Now it just feels lighter, and she’s good company to have around, but you already know that.”

“Yeah.” Emily’s eyes drifted toward the window, watching you work away at your desk, “she doesn’t bring work home all the time does she?”

“No more than the rest of us.” Alex replied with a chuckle, “she’d prefer to keep her weekends for play unless we’re out on a case.”

“You really keep her grounded, you know that?”

“Well one of us has to.” She teased with a sly grin and Emily scoffed.

“Hey! I’m just trying to make sure she’s having a fun time settling into DC.”

“Well you’re succeeding.”

“What about you?” Emily asked, leaning forward to grab another chocolate, “you getting out and having some fun on the weekends?”

“Emily please.” She laughed, “the last time I did something like drunk mini golf was probably ten years ago.”

“So what you’re saying is next time I have a stupid idea we’re dragging you along.”

“Oh, no. You girls can keep your fun to yourselves.” She chuckled, “but I appreciate the thought.”

“Guess I’ll have to think of something tame then.” Emily grinned, “but seriously, you can’t tell me you just sit around the house all weekend?”

“Sometimes, yes.” She admitted with a laugh, “with our workload? Sometimes all you need is a nice break, a good book out in the sunshine. Maybe some people think it’s boring but sometimes it’s all you need. Other times, I’ll get out in the city, even if it’s just by myself.”

“I take it that means you haven’t started dating again?”

“No.” Alex let out a loud laugh, “and I honestly don’t know if I want to bother.”

“Oh c’mon…” Emily prompted, “what’s gonna hurt about a couple of free dinners?”

“James and I made it work because he was gone just as much as I was, I don’t know if I have the energy to work through all of that again. Besides, at my age I figured I was kinda just done.”

“Alex, please, we’re basically the same age.”

“And you constantly talk about being married to the job.” She shot back with a playful grin.

“I’ll download an app if you will.” She offered, “hell, I’m sure we could get Murphy into it.”

Alex had never been more thankful for the interruption of a knock at the door, Emily calling out to come in before you popped up in the doorway.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt.”

“We’re doing literally anything but work, what’d you need?” Emily asked.

“Okay well if you weren’t working then I feel less bad about this… I was looking at listings, how’s Crestwood for a neighborhood?”

“Sweetheart that’s a five minute drive from our place.” Alex replied with a small laugh.

“Oh, okay, perfect.” You smiled back, “I’ve got a couple places in there and a couple in Glover Park lined up to go see on Sunday, you free?”

“I fly to Boston Saturday.”

“Fuck, right. I forgot you were teaching next week.” You glanced to the other woman, “Em?”

“I didn’t have any plans yet, sure.”

“Remember that even if you’re wildly hungover I’m still dragging you with me.”

“I don’t plan on taking any shots for the foreseeable future.”

“Yeah… you said that two weeks before mini golf.”

“I will be there!”

“Thank you.” You replied, dragging out the final vowel in a sing song voice, “and… I may have found a place in Alexandria that’s doing an open house today but only til five…?” You practically pouted at her and Emily laughed, playfully rolling her eyes.

“You were here early; you can cut out early. Just keep your phone on the chance we catch a case.”

“Will do boss!”

You’d made the grave mistake of napping once you’d gotten home from the open house and now you just knew you were going to be paying for it. At the very least, it was Friday so a late night probably wouldn’t hurt that much and if you were being honest, you preferred it. There was something calming about being awake while the rest of the world slept. Though, not everyone was sleeping.

Your head swiveled from your spot on the couch when you heard Alex’s door open and she wandered down the hallway, smiling softly at you.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” Your hand darted out to grab the remote, turning the volume on the tv down, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You didn’t.” She replied with a small huff, crossing through the kitchen to pull down a wine glass, filling it with merlot, “I thought it was anxiety about the flight tomorrow so I did some middle of the night packing thinking that would help.”

“I take it, it didn’t?”

“Nights are just weird, a little restless a lot of the time. Even if James wasn’t here all the time it’s still weird, first it was a struggle to sleep in the empty house, then it was readjusting to having someone around. Reminding myself that the weird bump in the night wasn’t to be worried about.” She rounded the side of the couch, leaning on the arm, “what’re you doing up? You’re not still working are you?”

“Very lazily.” You laughed, flipping the file folder closed, “just knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep yet, I prefer the night owl lifestyle anyways.”

“Explains the coffee addiction.” Alex smirked and you chuckled, “what’ve you got on?” She asked, gesturing toward the tv and you looked up at it.

“Uh… god, don’t judge me.” You laughed, “Love Island.”

“I can’t say I’ve seen a single episode.”

“It’s a little over the top dramatic, but it’s also really good mind numbing television after a long week.”

“Understandable.”

Alex slipped down the arm of the couch, nestling into the corner of the couch opposite you, her gaze on the screen and you turned the volume back up. Your eyes flitted between the file on your lap and the screen intermittently until you needed to get up to grab a refill and you let out a soft sigh, finally tossing the folder onto the coffee table. With your attention no longer on work, you were able to keep up a more frequent conversation with Alex, laughter and jokes about the show, a few questions that you answered considering you’d seen it before. Along with little comments about the upcoming weekend and how you were going to spend your free time, how long Alex was going to be in Boston for and if she had plans to see Daniela while out there.

A few hours passed, Love Island continuing into a marathon, keeping both of you fully occupied and invested. Alex caught herself laughing over just how ridiculous everything was, yet she was someone still completely enthralled with the entire thing. Her mind wandered back to the conversation in Emily’s office, wondering if the dating world had really progressed into something that needed this level of extremity.

“Alright,” She started, taking a sip of her wine, “I know a lot of this must be fake and extra dramatic for the show, but please tell me the dating world isn’t really that bad?” She looked toward you and you scoffed out a laugh,

“Alex, dating is a fucking joke. I think I’d rather end up on Love Island than have to navigate this bullshit. At least then I’d be guaranteed to be surrounded by attractive people and have the bonus of getting paid to do it.” You laughed, pulling one from her as well as she shifted on the couch so you were more facing each other.

“Is the terribleness why you’re not dating?” A brow raised in your direction and you shrugged, shaking your head.

“I just can’t really be bothered. I mean, we don’t exactly have a lot of downtime from work and to have to put in that much effort on days off? Ugh.”

“You’re in a new city, plenty of new suitors.” She grinned and you playfully rolled your eyes, nudging at her leg with your foot.

“Doesn’t help me meet any of them. Everything nowadays seems to be trapped on dating apps, and they’re a nightmare on their own, never mind being a queer woman attempting to use one.”

“How so?” She asked and you chuckled, “what? Oh come on, enlighten someone who’s never used one.”

“You looking to get out there on Tinder Blake?” You asked with a tease, nudging at her thigh again and she rolled her eyes, “but seriously, you’re lucky you’ve never used one. I’ll open an app, swipe for ten minutes and all I’ll have found was a bunch of couples looking for a unicorn, an apparently ‘open’ relationship where the girl says she just wants to play or explore her sexuality, a surprising amount of men despite having selected women only, full on married people looking to cheat, or poly couples. Which, I’ll support the last one, but I much prefer monogamy and half the time you’re wasting your time because people won’t have told you any of the above in advance, you find out on like, date three. Which doesn’t happen until like, months down the road considering how much free time the FBI loves to give us.”

“Well you could always look into giving it a second chance now that you’re in D.C, everyone here is career driven, a lot of them put it at the top of their priority lists, they’d understand.”

“I’d rather be a spinster with eight cats than open Tinder again to be completely honest.” You laughed, “but if you want me to help you set up an account I will.”

“Ohoho.” She laughed, “no, I think I’m good.”

“If you’re looking to get out there an app is probably your best bet. I mean, when was the last time you organically met someone you clicked with? Bonus points if it wasn’t at a bar.”

“I’ve got a pretty good track record when it comes to bookstores.” She grinned across at you and it was your turn to laugh, shaking your head at her.

“Doesn’t count, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“It was a correct answer to your question.” She retorted with a smile, “maybe dating is… completely overrated nowadays.”

“It really is.” You let out a sigh, your gaze drifting back to the television. Alex watched you for a moment, the gears in her head turning as you continued watching the show.

“Do you ever get lonely?” She asked softly and your eyes shifted back to her, your head tilting as you took in her words.

“Sometimes.” You shrugged, “but between work and maintaining stability in life there’s not much time leftover. Guess I don’t really think about it, besides,” grinning you shoved at her leg again with your foot, “I’ve got you to have middle of the night life chats if I can’t sleep.”

“I guess that’s true.” She replied with a soft smile, taking a sip of her wine before her gaze found its way back to the screen.

“Are… you lonely?”

“Hmm?”

“Is that the reason for all the questions?”

“Oh, no!” Alex pursed her lips, shaking her head, “having the house to myself was weird at first. Even though James was gone a lot, after the divorce I found that in the back of my mind I was still expecting him to show up sporadically. It felt like there was a little bit too much space for just me here, but, we’ve got that fixed now.” She laughed and you smiled back at her, “honestly when I got divorced I kind of figured that was it for me, I’d had a big love, now it was time to focus elsewhere.” She shrugged, “Emily brought up dating earlier, I guess it’s now just on my mind.”

“Well don’t black list it completely, you’re an incredible woman, brilliant, not to mention gorgeous. Anyone would be stupid lucky to have you.”

“Now you’re just sucking up.” She teased, feeling the warmth of the compliments soothing through her.

“More like pointing out the obvious.” You stifled a yawn, doing your best to hold it back but it was too late, Alex involuntarily let out an even larger one, followed by a small laugh.

“I guess it’s finally time for bed.”

“Probably a good idea.” You stood from the couch, collecting both yours and Alex’s empty glasses to place in the sink, “you don’t want to sleep through your alarm.”

“Definitely not.” Alex smiled, yawning once again as she said a quick thanks before she turned down her hallway, “goodnight y/n.”

“Night.” You shot her a smile before returning your attention to the dishes, quickly washing what was leftover as Alex’s bedroom door clicked shut.

Making sure you had your phone; you brushed your teeth and finally made the way back to your bedroom to climb into bed. The conversation with Alex was still very fresh on your brain as you slipped between the sheets, dropping back against the pillows. You had been truthful, you weren’t lonely, you’d made friends with the team, you had regular people you saw out on runs or at the gym and you had Alex for company at home. Chewing on your lip for a minute you finally reached out, grabbing your phone and swiping across until you found the toggle with the handful of dating apps you’d used in the past. You made it less than five minutes on Tinder before you were reminded exactly why it was absolute trash and not worth the fucking effort. You had friends to spend time with and a perfectly good vibrator for things they couldn’t assist with. Tinder was completely unnecessary.

Right?

_______________

@svulife-rl @clarawatson @hbkpop @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @itisdoctortoyousir @temilyrights @alexxavicry @evilregal2002 @alcabots @ladysc @dextur @disneyfan624 @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @prentiss-theorem @happenstnces @whiteberryx @heidss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @emobabeyy @1974-sp @theclassicgaycousin @kalixxa @leftoverenvy @bigolgay @daddy-heather-dunbar @regalmilfs4me @scorpsik @riveramorylunar

#alex blake #criminal minds #alex blake x reader #criminal minds fanfic #love comes quietly #alex blake: criminal minds #alex blake series #alex blake fanfic

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rehfan · 1 year

Text

Chapter 8 is here...

The Hat Shop Girl

Inexperienced!Ralph Penbury X Fem!Reader/AFAB!Reader

Summary: You were working as a clerk in a hat shop when Ralph Penbury walked into your life. Nothing was ever the same.

Tags: meet-cute, eventual smut, slow build, angst with a happy ending, class differences, fantasizing, implied/referenced drug use, non-consensual touching, sexual inexperience, first kiss, kissing, first French kiss, neck kissing, sexual education, angst, emotional hurt, handjob, vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal sex, first time, blow job, cream pie, fluff and smut,.

Warnings: 18+ and over only please. Eventual smutty smut - NOT for children! Non-consensual touching, implied/referenced drug use.

PLEASE DO NOT POST MY WORK TO ANY OTHER SITE. MY WORK IS MINE. PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

If you want to read this and any of my other stuff, find this work on AO3

Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - Ch 8 - Ch 9 - Ch 10

*****************************

CHAPTER 8: Une Interruption du Noblesse Oblige

Six weeks had come and gone and the shop was not only open, it was bursting. All your new designs had come into your mind in an avalanche, the customers had drifted in beginning as a trickle and now as a running river, and your new staff, while still a bit like deer on ice, were trustworthy and fast learners. You were still terrified opening the doors every morning, but a happy exhaustion greeted you every day by closing time.

Ralph, true to his word, was as silent as a partner could be. He had only met up with you a handful of times before your grand opening to ask if there was anything further he could do. He had taken you to tea at a swanky place down the street from the Ritz each time. It had been decadent in the extreme, but you were sure to Ralph, it was just an average Tuesday. He was all politeness and propriety the entire time. However, there was a sense of something else in him that you couldn’t quite place. You knew you should have asked him if there was a death in his family or if he had received bad news of some kind, but whenever you tried, he had kept you chatting about the store and the plans you had and who your new hires were and how well everyone was doing that you never got the chance. Soon tea was over and it was back to work. And each time, Ralph had tipped his hat to you as he dropped you off and smiled, but you noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

And each time, he was gone before you could say anything and your staff was calling you back in for your assistance.

As the weeks passed, you lay awake in your new flat, turning away from the shadows once again. You knew you shouldn’t feel so alone when Ralph was still in your life, but you did. A strange emptiness hollowed you out whenever you parted company, or when he phoned the shop and you hung up the receiver, or when he sent you a letter and you had finished reading the last line for the first time. And it all made you wonder about other things, darker and more depressing. You wondered when it would all end. When would the Penburys get sick of you? When would Ralph finally drift away and back into the society he was used to with a slip of a giggling cocaine-addled girl on his arm? When would he forget you?

Most days, you could stamp it down. You could bury your hollowness under duty and plans and structure and routine. But it was still there. And the nighttime shadows always found it, churned it up like a plow turned the earth, exposed it to the air, pushed it into your senses. The feel of his kiss, warm and soft. The taste of his cock, musky and salty. The pressure of his touch, gentle and eager. The sound of his voice. The coo of it over the phone. The soft tones of it across the luncheon table.

You ached for him. And there was no resolving it. You couldn’t be with him the way you wanted. You couldn’t return to that house - or indeed any of the Penbury properties - after Victoria and her gang had found you that way. It was too humiliating. You were lower than dirt to them and all you could expect was derision and mockery from all of them. And that would only harm Ralph.

So you kept schtum about your feelings when you met Ralph every month. You ate your food and sipped your tea and talked about the business. And you tried to ignore the sadness that you felt in your heart when you parted. And you wondered about the smile that had dimmed on his face each time. Could he be feeling that same loneliness too? Had he not gained more friends? Was he not having an easier time?

Somehow, three months had gone by. And while the shadows still haunted you, business was booming. It spoke to Ralph’s character that he was thoughtful enough of Mrs. Randolph that he arranged for fresh flowers to be brought in every day from her shop to help decorate yours, thus making up for stealing you away from her forever. Your heart swelled with every new delivery. You didn’t have the heart to throw away the day-old blooms; they were still good. You had decided after the first few days to rotate sending them to three different old-age homes, six different churches, four different branches of the WI, and some to your mother.

Your clientele was impressed by your wares and your shop. Word of mouth led to bigger business and bigger business led to more profits. More profits meant more money to go back into the business, which raised the quality of your items. And it also allowed for advertising. Soon you had captured the interest of a buyer from Selfridges who was seeking out your hats to put on their shelves. You thought of Miller with a sneer of contempt. Watch him come to your door seeking employment. You’d turn him out like he was last week’s rubbish.

That happy tiredness you had become accustomed to over the last four and a half months made your muscles ache. You were just closing up and had put the shade down over the door and secured the lock, smiling to yourself because your next meeting with Ralph was tomorrow. Your mood always lightened within hours of seeing him again. The shadows dimmed. It let you breathe.

You planned a long hot bath and maybe your thoughts would allow your hands to drift and cover and caress your sex the same way his had that final night. Yes. That would be just what you needed. Then you could sleep and dream. You stifled a yawn and unhooked the chain that led up to your flat when there was a knock at the front door.

“We’re closed,” you shouted.

“Even to a silent partner?” came the reply. Ralph.

Your heart leapt. You flung the door open to find him in the entryway alcove. He stood with his hat tucked in the crook of one arm - one of your designs - looking as pin perfect as always, his smile almost perfect as always.

“Well hello stranger,” you said, checking your wristwatch. “You and I have an appointment tomorrow morning, I believe. You’re a tad early.”

“We do indeed,” he said and almost immediately he looked crestfallen, “but there has been a… development. And I’m afraid that you’re affected.”

“What’s the problem?” you asked, a knot slowly developing in your stomach. The niggling notion you had harbored in the back of your head for the past four and a half months woke up; the notion that one day Ralph would see fit to cut you loose. Of course, he gave you no reason to believe that was ever going to happen. But Victoria still held a stranglehold on his decision-making. As he stood before you, shifting his weight from foot to foot, it seemed to you his sister may have had a hand in his visit tonight. “Affected how?"

“Well,” he began, “it seems that Victoria has discovered my, uh… purchase.” His eyes roamed around the room. “And she’s not best pleased.”

“I would imagine not,” you said, dismayed. You let out a sigh and straightened one of the hats on its stand. “But we’ve been seeing a profit practically since we opened! How can she be upset?”

“Apparently it’s not just the shop. It’s the whole building. It’s a bit of a drain on our coffers. And-“

“It’s eating into the cocaine expense account,” you finished.

Ralph’s ears went pink. “I have no doubt that you’ll be able to keep the shop, but she wants to pull out of silent partnership. And as for the building…” He didn’t finish, but you knew what he meant. There was no way the business could function without getting a loan and then the tightening of belts would be in this season. And with a new building owner, new rules would apply. Certainly a change in the rent for both the shop and the flat above would be expected; Ralph had been a tad lenient in your agreement about that.

“And then you’ll disappear too?” you asked, already suspecting the answer. He didn’t say a word and yet, in his silence, he had said volumes. You don’t know where you got the steadiness in your voice when your world had just been knocked into a cocked hat, but you sighed and said: “Well, Ralph, if you need to sever ties, then I suppose that to sever them completely would be wisest.”

He hadn’t stopped you saying it out loud. He hadn’t even made eye contact with you. You swallowed past the lump in your throat and willed yourself not to cry. You loved this shop, but what’s more: you loved that Ralph was a part of it. You didn’t want to change anything that had been going on, but it seems you weren’t going to be given a vote in the matter.

“Oh Ralph,” you sighed. “I was so happy.”

“As was I.” You could see a fat tear glide down his cheek.

“She hates it that much, does she?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“And there’s no changing her mind?”

“No. I’m afraid not.” He dabbed at the tear with his handkerchief - another one of yours - and wiped his nose.

“What aren’t you afraid of?” There was no malice in the question, just a weak attempt at levity.

“You,” he said, finally raising his head to regard you. “You don’t make me afraid. You… make me sane. And calm. And happy. And I like that very much.” He tilted his head, a sad half smile playing on his face. “I will miss our lunches. I really looked forward to them.”

“Well,” you reasoned, “those don’t have to stop, do they? If anything, they don’t have to be all business anymore. We can talk about anything. We can just… be friends now. Can’t we?”

He seemed confused as you spoke, but soon brightened as he realized how right you were. “Yes, that sounds… lovely.”

“Then it’s settled. I’ll be the hat shop owner in your life - for as long as the shop can keep its doors open, that is. And just as you once knew that horrible man from Selfridges, instead, you’ll know me.”

“And you’re a much better person than he ever was! And ever so much prettier!” Ralph practically giggled at the thought, tea and cakes with you, or lunch at the Ritz, or that fussy French bistro place you seemed to like so much. He wouldn’t have to let you go completely, would he? And you wouldn’t have to let him go. Isn’t that wonderful?

Ralph was beaming again all the way to his teary eyes and your heart sang at the sight. The dam of the tension in the room had broken. You felt bolder. “And now, you can tell me what’s been on your mind this whole time?” you asked.

At this, his whole demeanor changed in an instant. You had to dip your head down and approach him to get him to meet your eye. “I mean,” you said, “now that we’re such good friends?”

“I can’t think of what you mean,” he said with a nervous cough.

“Ralph Penbury, don’t you try to give me the slip,” you said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about it for months now and you always change the subject on me. No more hiding now. Please. What’s wrong? Has Victoria been awful to you again? I mean- besides this building nonsense.”

“Well there is, I suppose, but I didn’t want to trouble you with it. It’s my burden to bear, after all. You are a respectable proprietress now and I didn’t want to-“

“Oh for pity’s sake, Ralph! Please, do come to it,” you said.

He blushed beautifully and said softly, his words stuttering out then pouring forth like an avalanche, “I- I can’t get it out of my head.”

“Get what out of your head?”

“T-the sight of you- lying there, lost to my touch…” his voice became a whisper as he went on, “I can’t- It’s just been- I haven’t slept properly in months. I keep thinking of you that way. I- touch myself and- I’m ashamed of how I feel. It’s just so… lascivious. You’re too good a lady for me to have such thoughts, yet it was you with me that night wanting me and teaching me and guiding me and you looked so- and I couldn’t breathe then and I can’t breathe now and you’re so beautiful and lovely and good and right but you’d think me no better than Miller and I couldn’t bear it. I just couldn’t and-“

“Shh!” you put a hand over his mouth and stepped closer to him, pressing yourself to him. He bowed his head to meet your mouth. The kiss lingered deliciously, his arms wrapping around you possessively. It was as if kissing you were the last thing he would do before he died and the only thing he wanted to do for the rest of his life. When it broke, the look in his eyes caused your breath to catch; he was on the verge of tears.

“I missed you too,” you admitted. Suddenly, you thought of Charlie. What would you do if this was Charlie? If class differences weren’t the problem? The answer was: you would throw caution to the wind. Ralph was single and unbetrothed; so were you. You were two consenting adults in a modern world. There was no reason standing in your way at all. And, truth be told, you were no longer a simple shop clerk. You were a shop owner and clothing designer. And a successful one to boot.

Damn the torpedoes. You straightened your spine. “Shall we pick up where we left off?”

“What?” It was a shocked whisper in the gloom.

“Tell your man to go,” you said, referring to the driver who was no-doubt waiting outside for his master’s return to take him back home. “And then come back. I’ll be upstairs. We won’t be interrupted this time. Alright?”

“Heavens…”

You pecked his lips and slowly parted from him. Walking slowly to the stairs, you unhooked the chain from its loop. “I’ll see you in a minute, yeah?”

“Oh.” He visibly swallowed and fiddled with the brim of his hat, his eyes never leaving you. “Yes. Quite. Heavens.”

He was still standing in the middle of the shop floor when you disappeared from view. “Hurry back, your Lordship,” you called to him and smiled when you heard the front door bell jingle and the door itself slam shut.

**************************************

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#fanfic #writing #ralph penbury #ralph timewasters #ralph x reader #ao3 #ao3 writer #The Hat Shop Girl #THSG #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn

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dreamsontheirway · 10 months

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Bait | Ch. 6 | S.R. x OC

Summary: Willow Brooks is a kind-hearted, but spitfire red head who treats each case with the upmost compassion and care. But when an unsub is targeting women who look just like her, she’s faced with the dilemma of acting as bait for the unsub. Spencer Reid, her boyfriend, is absolutely not keen on the idea. Warnings: violence, knife, guns Word Count: 1k

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Look at you, little birdie...

Now you're at my mercy.

-----

Luckily, Willow wasn't knocked out from the impact and she was able to lift herself up from the dirty concrete below her.

"Who are you?" Thomas' voice boomed, as he kicked her harshly in the stomach. "Did my magpie send you?"

My magpie? Willow thought, but she couldn't think straight from the pain erupting from her core.

"Answer me!" Thomas roared, and he pulled her to her feet before punching her harshly in the face.

Willow saw stars from the impact, and was completely unable to fight back at this point. She hoped to god that Spencer and the rest of the team were on their way and would arrive shortly. She felt hot, sticky liquid start to run down from her nostrils.

With what little strength she had, she tried to engage Thomas with what she knew so far.

"Thomas," she said, using his first name, attempting to personalize the situation. "It's me, your magpie. Please don't hurt me."

Confusion clouded Thomas' face at the remark, his brows furrowed, yet still angry.

"You're not Magdalene."

Magdalene... so the magpie is a woman named Magdalene?

"It is me, Thomas," Willow spoke, coughing up a small amount of blood. "Please."

She pleaded, and his grip on her loosened slightly. It was short lived.

"FBI, hands up!"

Thomas spasmed, pulling Willow's back into his front and branding a knife against her throat.

Where the hell did the knife come from? Willow thought to herself.

Spencer stood at the other end of the alleyway, his gun trained at Thomas. Although he stood confidently, Willow could see the slight shake of his hands at the sight of her being covered in blood and held against her will. The rest of the team stood guard behind him, their guns also pointed towards Thomas.

"Thomas," Spencer started, his voice containing a hint of fear. "Don't do this to Magdalene. She loves you, Thomas."

Thomas adjusted his hold on Willow, confused once again. He thought about it for a moment, considering, before pulling the knife closer to her throat once again.

"You're lying to me."

"No, Thomas, I'm not. We know that Magdalene left you, but she's back now."

"I don't believe you!" Thomas screamed, the knife starting to impress into Willow's skin. "She left me, with our son! She flew away, my magpie flew away."

Spencer considered Thomas' words, and continued in his efforts to save Willow.

"Thomas, she's back now. She has your son, and you don't want to hurt her before you get to see him."

Thomas' grip loosened slightly and he looked at Willow.

"Is this true?"

"Yes," she croaked, starting to wilt against him.

"Thomas, drop the knife. Drop the knife and we will take you to your son." Spencer attempted to coerce the man, who's grip on Willow stayed the same.

"No, no, no," Thomas rambled, his eyes wide. "You're lying, I don't believe it!"

In his frenzy, Thomas pushed the knife further against Willow's neck.

"No!"

She could hear Spencer's voice bellow before she heard a gunshot. Willow collapsed onto the hard ground, her vision dancing with black spots.

"Baby," Spencer's voice cooed, and she felt his hands wrapping around her, pulling her into him.

Willow merely groaned in response, and opened her eyes slightly. She could feel Spencer's quickened heart rate against her ear, and it was calming.

"Spence," she gasped, and winced in pain at the effort.

"Oh, honey," Spencer muttered, his eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sorry. God, I should've protested against this more than I did. This is my fault, I'm so, so sorry."

"Not your fault," she managed to say; her voice was guttural.

Spencer let out a sob then, and rested his forehead against hers. Willow could feel a few of his tears land on her face.

"We need to get you cleaned up," he spoke, shaking his emotions off and lifting her into his arms bridal style. Willow allowed herself to wrap her arms around his neck as tightly as she could.

He carried her to the ambulance that had arrived on the scene, and laid her gently onto the gurney. He climbed in after her and stroked a long hand against her badly beaten face.

Her eyes fluttered, and Spencer tried to get her to stay awake.

"You can't fall asleep, honey. You probably have a concussion. I know you're tired, but let me see those eyes."

Willow groaned in response, wanting to succumb to the sweet darkness of sleep lurking behind her.

"Reid, how is she?" Hotch's voice suddenly filled her ears; he was standing at the entrance of the ambulance.

"She'll be okay, no thanks to you."

Spencer's words were harsh, and through Willow's blurry vision she could see him stand, his fists clenched at his sides.

"I'm sorry for what happened to Agent Brooks, Reid, but I don't regret my decision. We caught Thomas, and people were saved because of it."

"Oh, but it's okay that my girlfriend got beaten to a pulp and is in the back of an ambulance barely hanging onto consciousness?!"

The silence after Spencer's outburst was palpable, and Willow could hear Hotch sigh loudly.

"Reid, just take care of her. We'll talk later."

Willow could hear Hotch's steps dissipate into nothingness, before Spencer's presence returned to her. He stroked the blood-soaked hair from her face, his eyes glossy.

"Spence, he's our boss," Willow croaked out, attempting to plant a small smirk on her face before wincing at the movement.

"Shh," Spencer cooed, rubbing her face softly to try and get her to relax. "I know he is, but I told him this was a bad idea. I told everyone this was a bad idea."

Spencer's lips were taut in a tight line and his eyes held a mixture of determination, and some semblance of guilt. Despite her state, Willow picked up on the gears turning rapidly in Spencer's mind and quietly attempted to comfort him.

"It's not your fault."

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captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship · 10 months

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Men pay a lot of money to get their name into Gwyn's exclusive black book - enough that, with careful planning, she's putting herself through law school debt-free. Once she's graduated, she can retire the high heels and little black dresses and get to work in the pursuit of justice that she and her sister never received.

Azriel Singer's profile intrigues her, with a smile that never shines in his eyes and a delectable body. But will his attitude get in the way of any future potential?

I am so fortunate to be chosen to write Ch.2 of this fic for the ACOTAR Writing Circle 3 that has been coordinated by the amazing @azrielshadowssing

Part 1 was written by the incredible @hlizr50 and I hope I did this work justice!

Here is the link to Part 2, or read below!

TW: mentions of SA

ONE MONTH LATER

This had been a month from Hell. Gwyn was all but dying as she turned in her final assignment of the semester, thankful that she had somehow found the time to study and work a few extra nights of the week.

Gwyn had met with Tarquin the day after the disastrous meeting with Azriel. He was sweet and her saving grace over the last month. He didn’t want anything more than what she was used to offering - just a few weekends of fun. She made her rent with some cash to spare just from him alone.

It was all fine, but Gwyn couldn’t stop herself from venturing to Azriel’s profile, perplexed at what kind of bullshit someone had to go through in order to be such a massive asshole. He was hot, sure, and the kind of rich that would make paying off her college tuition look like a drop in the bucket. Had he been even a little less of dick, she might have milked him for all he was worth.

So fuck him.

But still… she couldn’t delete his profile off of her contact list. Couldn’t break that single connection to the man who equally perplexed and infuriated her.

Gwyn’s phone pinged, bringing her out of her stupor and back to reality. Her group chat with Nesta and Emerie consisted of funny memes, gossip, and the only source of true fun Gwyn had had in ages.

Nesta:

Let's go out tonight to celebrate!

Gwyn:

I am exhausted, Nesta. Maybe next time?

Gwyn entered her apartment and collapsed on the couch, ready to pass out and allow herself the bliss of sleep. Her phone went off again, and she silently cursed as she read the next message.

Emerie:

Take a nap and then join us! It isn’t everyday that you finish your second year of Law School, let alone in the top five of your class. You are a shoe in for any internship in the country. Take the evening off and just live a little!

Gwyn thought about it. When was the last time she really spent time with her best friends? Her weekends were filled with being whisked away on private jets to sunny beaches with Tarquin and her week days were jammed with studying and writing paper after paper. She had some money left over, and with this break coming up she could take on more clients than usual to get ahead of her bills.

Gwyn:

Fine, you win. Now you guys leave me be for the next 6 hours and then we can meet at Rita’s at 9pm?

Nesta:

YES! Finally!!!! First shot’s on me ;)

Emerie:

WOOOOOOO!

Emerie:

Ok, love. Get some sleep, because tonight we PARTY!

Gwyn chuckled at their enthusiasm, and it wasn’t long before she set her alarm and passed out- content and excited for the night to come.

----

Gwyn, Nesta and Emerie strode into the club and headed straight for the bar opposite the dancefloor.

“Three tequila shots and lime, thanks.” Nesta said, gesturing to the male bartender, Balthazar. She had taken a martial arts class with him when they all attended Velaris University and he always hooked the girls up when they came in. He just smiled and brought them right over, ignoring the guys who seemed to be attempting to flag him down to bring them some beers. Nesta just gave them one of her cold smiles and they shut right up.

“Here you go ladies.” Balthazar crooned as he dropped 4 shots of tequila and a small bowl of limes down in front of them. He smiled at Gwyn kindly and she was alway happy to see a friendly, male face whenever she was here. “I haven’t seen you in a while, Gwyn. Finally crawling out of your den to join us in the land of the drunk and living?”

“If only you knew the half of it. I’m literally bending over backwards to finish this degree. You try finding the time to make the dean’s honors list in Law School, work your ass off, and still look this good in heels after a final’s week from hell.” Gwyn retorted back.

His gaze dropped to said heels appreciatively. Perhaps it took a moment longer than necessary for his eyes to crawl back up her legs to her smirking features, but Gwyn wasn’t complaining. He just put his hands up in silent surrender and passed out the shots to all of us.

Nesta held her glass out in a toast. “To the shit we have seen, and the shit to come. At least the booze and company are worth it all.” They all grabbed a lime slice, clinked their shots together, and knocked them back. Gwyn savored the heat of the tequila running down her throat.

As she slammed her glass down on the bar victoriously, Gwyn could feel someone watching her. Her neck tingled as a gaze- hard and determined- bore into her back. Turning towards the dancefloor, she scanned the room until her eyes landed on a pair of familiar hazel ones. Ones that she had ogled in fascination all month behind the comfort of her phone screen.

Azriel was standing there and staring directly at her. No trepidation. No hint of shyness about him all.

She couldn’t read his expression from so far away, but she could feel his eyes raking down her body - noticing her tight cobalt outfit. The skirt barely covered her most intimate areas and her crop top wrapped around the curve of her body as though it were tailored just for her. The fabric shimmered under the club lights, giving the illusion of moonlight on an ocean wave.

His gaze sent electricity sparking up Gwyn’s spine. For the first time in a long time, she felt exposed under his attention. Once Azriel’s eyes met hers again, she remembered the reason they were in this predicament and turned her back to him - deciding to ignore the source of her current vexation for the rest of the night.

Despite her best efforts to ignore him, Gwyn couldn’t help but feel Azriel’s piercing gaze on her back the entire time.

She just ordered another round of shots from Balthazar, whose doting attention was not unnoticed. When the shot glasses of vodka arrived, she turned around to see Azriel sitting in a booth on the other side of the club with two people she hadn’t taken notice of before. The man was as large as a tank. His long hair was tied up in a messy bun and Gwyn could spot some black swirling tattoos peeking out from the open buttons of his black dress shirt.

The woman, sitting on the other side of the long-haired man, was one of the most stunning women Gwyn had ever seen. Surely a model, her golden blonde hair fell in waves around her face and down her back. She was wearing a deep gold top that just barely covered her chest, with chains at the neck and back leaving her tanned skin utterly exposed. Her matching skirt had her shining like a gilded sunset.

“Looks like you have a secret admirer, Gwyn.” Nesta teased from beside her.

Gwyn scowled in reply, content to follow out her plans to have fun and not think about work for a night. Or for that matter, a pair of hazel eyes that saw entirely too much and a broad muscular form that appeared as though it were carved by a Renaissance artist. Why did he have to be such an asshole? Gwyn hated him for it.

“His friends aren’t so bad to look at, either,” Emerie said. I turned to look at her and found her eying Azriel’s blonde friend with predatory intent. She smiled a little to herself. Although Gwyn was determined not to get any tonight, she wouldn’t stop her friends if they wished to partake in a one-night stand.

Perhaps it was reckless, but Gwyn couldn’t help but stare Azriel in the eye as she took her shot, not bothering with a chaser. He leaned forward in his seat - his eyes tracking the small drop that seemed to escape Gwyn’s lips and ran down the side of her mouth. She wiped it with her thumb and sucked it off- refusing to let her gaze fall from his. Gwyn just winked at him and turned back to her friends.

She hoped he felt the same lick of fire creep up her depths and ricochet through her spine. She wondered if the air had gone thick with heat and tension for him as well. But Gwyn didn’t chance another glance over to him.

This was war, and she was determined to win.

“Let's go dance.” Was all she said, and her friends followed in tow.

-----

The dance floor was packed tonight. Rita’s was only a few blocks away from the university, so everyone was trying to make the most of their end of semester celebrations. The girls found their way to the middle of the dance floor and started jumping and swaying with the music. For a while, Gwyn forgot about the pair of hazel eyes that had been watching her all night.

At some point, Nesta had spotted the man who had come with Azriel, and she left without a further glance at them.

He was exactly her type: bold, dominant, and from the way he laughed, he was definitely a teddy bear at heart. Gwyn and Emerie started laughing to themselves at how the man’s jaw seemed to drop when he saw Nesta approaching him. When they approached each other, drifting as though attached to some magnetic force, the gaze they shared was so intimate, Gwyn almost looked away - but the liquor in her system had robbed her of that courtesy.

“How much do you want to bet that Nesta will be waking up in his bed in the morning?” Emerie joked, yelling slightly over the loud music.

“They are either going to hate each other or be inseparable. Time to start writing the wedding invitations now.” Gwyn yelled back. Both girls fell into a fit of giggles as they casually watched Nesta and man start dancing with each other at the edge of the dancefloor.

A few more songs passed by, and Gwyn was fully entranced by the music and tequila. She hadn’t had enough to be drunk, but she did have just enough to loosen her inhibitions. Maybe that was why she had teased Azriel relentlessly at the bar. Gwyn looked over to Emerie who seemed to be distracted, continuously staring at the blonde woman who had come with Azriel. It seemed the woman was staring at her right back.

“Go shoot your shot, Em. I will be fine. I was hoping to leave in a few songs anyways.” Gwyn said with teasing encouragement.

Emerie looked nervous, chewing on her lip as her eyes scanned Gwyn. “Are you sure? What if she isn’t into girls?”

Gwyn just squeezed her arm in gentle encouragement, “You will never know unless you go up to her and ask.”

Emerie stayed until the end of the song, trying to dance away her nerves. When one song flowed into another, she said, “Ok. I’m going. Are you sure you are gonna get home safe?” Gwyn knew Emerie was just trying to stall the inevitable, so she just laughed in return. “I’ll be fine, Em. Go. I will text you and Nesta when I get home.” It was always their unspoken rule. Every time they went out, they would text the group where they were headed after the club. It also helped that the girls shared their phone locations with each other - just in case.

Emerie took a deep breath and turned towards the booth where the blonde was sitting, only to find it empty now. Looking around confused, Gwyn couldn’t help but feel bad for Emerie when all of a sudden her friend turned behind her to find the blonde tapping her shoulder.

“Want to dance?” The blonde said, a warm smile washing over her face as she held out her hand.

Emerie took it without hesitation, “I would like that.”

Gwyn waved them off as she continued to dance by herself, just enjoying the flow of the music through her veins.

She told herself she would stay for two more songs, make sure her friends were ok, and then head home to change into sweats, eat ice cream, and stream Grey’s on Netflix thanks to Nesta sharing her account with Gwyn.

Midway through the penultimate song, a pair of hands gripped onto Gwyn’s waist. They were rough and felt wrong. The man pulled himself close, trying to dance with Gwyn but she was not in the mood to be manhandled today.

She tried to turn out of the man’s grip, to shuffle away with a swift turn to the beat, but the guy just squeezed her waist tighter and tighter until she was being pulled against her will.

Memories flashed through Gwyn’s mind.

Dancing at a freshman year frat party. Another man’s hands on her waist. Her saying no as he brought her into a spare bedroom and took what he wanted from her.

Gwyn stood frozen in fear, unable to say anything. She knew self-defense, of course. She had met Nesta and Emerie at a self defense course for women who had been through trauma. But there were too many people around her and she didn’t want to risk hurting anyone else.

She tried to pry the dude’s fingers off of her waist, but he just leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Want to go home with me tonight, princess? That pretty outfit would look even better on the floor of my bedroom.”

Gwyn shuddered in absolute disgust. What kind of douche just asks if you want to sleep with him without even introducing himself?

“I’m good, thanks. I was actually just heading out. Have a good night.” Gwyn tried to escape his grasp again, but he just held tighter and started roaming his hands down her sides.

“Come on, Princess. It will be fun. What do you say?” he said in her other ear. His beer breath bombarded her nose and all but made her gag. Gwyn just about had it with him and was about to damn the consequences, but suddenly those hands were jerked off of her.

In a startled haze, Gwyn turned only to find Azriel pulling the man off of her by the collar of his shirt. “The lady said she isn’t interested.” Azriel all but growled at the guy.

The guy stared up at Azriel and balked. Azriel stood a whole head taller than him, and the look on his face would send most people running in the opposite direction.

Gwyn couldn’t help but think that that look was kinda hot. Couldn’t help but bite her lip as heat swam through her depths, replacing the icy nausea that had made a home there just moments ago.

The guy just stared between Azriel and Gwyn in shock. He didn’t wait around, sparing her a scoff and leaving. Azriel turned to Gwyn, his dark gaze roaming over her. Looking to see if she was hurt, she realized.

“Are you ok?” He asked, taking a step towards her.

That set Gwyn into motion. She took a step back, flicked her hair over her shoulder in fake bravado, and said cooly, “I’m fine. Thanks for the help.”

She turned over her shoulder and walked right out of the club and into the cool summer breeze.

----

She was in the middle of texting the girls and calling an uber when the club doors swung open beside her. Azriel walked out the doors in a frantic huff. He turned frantically in place until he noticed her leaning against the brick storefront, then all but ran towards her in a frenzy.

“What the hell!?” He said in a panicked voice. “Why did you leave? I was looking everywhere for you.”

Something tickled Gwyn’s nerves. On the one hand, it was sweet that he was looking for her. So at odds with the asshole she had interviewed with last month. On the other hand… “Why? Just cause I am an escort doesn’t mean that you are entitled to my time.”

“I know, but-”

She cut him off before he could give some bullshit excuse. “You made it perfectly clear the last time we met that you wanted nothing to do with me. So what the fuck was all that inside?” She crossed her arms over her chest in frustration.

Azriel cringed at her comment. He loosed a sigh and looked down. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took in a shaky breath before he opened them to meet hers. “I’m sorry for how I treated you that day. I’ve been going through a rough time. My friends set me up and although their intentions are good, I wasn’t in the right headspace. Would you let me take you somewhere so I can explain?” His eyes were pleading. He actually looked sincere.

This emotional rollercoaster was taking Gwyn for a loop. She shook her head and scoffed. “I was just groped by a random dude in the club. What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you right now?”

Azriel’s eyes darkened with rage. He kept it bottled in as he said, “At least let me take you home. Maybe grab some food on the way? I just want to explain. Start over.”

Gwyn didn’t want to deal with this right now. She was at her wits end and just wanted to go home. “Why do you even care, Azriel? We met once, you were an ass, and life moved on. Just leave me be.”

Gwyn was done.

She was done with men who thought they were entitled to her because she sold her time and body. But there were still hers.

Hers to choose who to spend her time with.

Hers to choose when to give it.

But always her choice.

Gwyn started to turn to walk down the street and put some distance between her and Azriel, but he grabbed her wrist to stop her. His grip was light and she could easily shake him off if she wanted to but something inside her was telling her to stay. To listen.

“Please, Gwyn. Just give me a chance to explain. If I can’t convince you to give me a second chance by the time I drop you off at home, you will never hear from me again. You can have anything you want, just- please.”

Gwyn stared at his eyes, and whatever she saw there made her sigh in resignation. She could ask for anything. A lot of her problems could be fixed with that kind of offer. She pulled out her phone and texted Nesta and Emerie.

Gwyn:

Taking a detour on my way home. Be safe!

She clicked off her phone and looked Azriel in the eyes, “Lead the way then, Singer.”

#gwynriel #acotar #gwynriel supremacy #azriel shadowsinger #gwyneth berdara #azriel x gwyn #azriel #nessian #emorie #gwyn is making azriel crawl for her #he will eat out of the palm of her hand #Gwyn is so hot and azriel is so hot #acotar writing circle 3 #acotar writing circle #this was so fun to write

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kasienda · 1 month

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Opening Line Patterns

thanks for the tag @ladyofthenoodle!

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 posted fics and see if there's a pattern. I'm not going to link each individual fic, but here's my Ao3 if something catches your fancy! :)

From most to least recent:

Rena Rouge: Secret Keeper - Ch 4 Chat Noir was earlier than Ladybug. That was hardly unusual. What was unusual was that he was dreading her arrival.

The Untold Story of DJWiFi - Ch 9 Alya’s biggest complaint about being tied up in a giant spider’s web was that she couldn’t film the whole akuma encounter.

Bend the World Around It - Ch 3 They don’t talk about their names and identities. He doesn’t ask and she doesn’t want to talk about it anyway. It’ll just make them both sad.

Not Part of the Plan - Ch 12 She wakes up next to Adrien. He looks as gorgeous as ever and more than anything she wants to throw herself at him and have her way with him.

Celebrity Status - Ch 7 I can’t believe Ladybug dropped someone!

Miraculous Reveal #15 - Rings True I figured out who Monarch is. He’s Gabriel Agreste. Meet me at the Agreste Mansion.

Right Behind You - Ch 13 Nino adjusted the headphones over his ears, and hit play again, listening to the track he had so far.

Yin and Yang - Ch 5 Adrien’s room was something out of a child’s fantasy.

Spin the Bottle Nathaniel’s family home is not as large or ostentatious as the Agreste family manor, but that only means Adrien feels more at ease.

Aftermath - Ch 5 After their unplanned disaster sleepover, Marinette and Adrien fell strictly back into their routine.

Well, in 6/10 the first line seems to serve to establish where the character is more than anything else. Nothing too fancy about those.

And in 5/10 (with some definite overlap with the previous six) there's something in there to quickly establish the character's mood/mental space.

In 2/10 it's a line of text! I think this is interesting in that it's similar to starting with a line of dialogue, which is very easy for me, but I've mostly trained myself out of that. Mostly! Haha! But apparently I can still find ways to cheat. I'm actually shocked that none of these are an ACTUAL line of dialogue. I'm sure that it will happen again.

I don't usually put a lot of energy into the opening line. I more try to get into a character's head and that often takes more than one line and I usually find the rhythm later. The first line is helpful for getting in that mood though and getting words to flow!

No pressure tags to: @asukiess @bbutterflies @bittersweetresilience @jennagrinsoverml @blur0se

#first line #life of a writer #metacognitive #haven't done this one in awhile #defnitely got a very different result this time #no alarm clocks for one #haha!#writer game

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wardenparker · 2 years

Text

You’re So Vain - Chapter 8

Dieter Bravo x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Oscar winning star Dieter Bravo’s reputation is suffering after the debacle of “Cliff Beasts 6″ and “Beasts of the Bubble”, so his management team has signed him on to a publicity stunt to find his soulmate and show the world a softer side of the erratic and unpredictable star. The plan quickly go awry, though, when Dieter’s soulmate wants nothing to do with him.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+! We finally made it! Word Count: 10.9k Warnings: *Blanket warning for chronic illness, cursing, and deceased family members. This is a Dieter fic, folks, so there absolutely will be discussions of drugs, drug use, and addiction.* Enemies to lovers, fake dating, angst, a dash of fluff, and a surprising amount of yearning. Summary: Date #5 is a bust, but Taco Tuesday is the real test of what lays ahead for you and Dieter. And what lies ahead is nothing like either of you expected... Notes: I have nothing to say for myself this week, guys. I just *really* love these two idiots.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7

It’s been two days since you’ve heard from Dieter. Surprising, considering the fact that you’ve now slept with him, and you would be lying if you claimed it didn’t hurt a little. Maybe you were nothing more than convenient in the moment and that’s all it was. Just a moment. But you have to begrudgingly admit to yourself, standing on the Santa Monica Pier waiting for him to show up for your fifth scheduled date, that you’re hurt that he hasn’t even texted.

Of course, you hadn’t sent anything either. Too afraid of being rejected in the very sober light of day to brave even a “Hey”. You had left a note, and he had chosen to ignore you. That’s what you get, apparently. You get rejection. He’ll probably show up tonight like nothing is wrong and not even acknowledge that anything ever happened.

If you had begun to let yourself hope that you were more than a contract to him, the message is now clear: you are a means to an end. He’s probably forgotten about taco night, too, and you’ll have to explain to a heartbroken Nora why her newly minted uncle won’t be showing his face around the house again. And it’s your fault for getting your hopes up. Looking out over the water, you check your phone again and sigh. He’s late. Only five minutes but still, he’s late. Figures.

******

“I’m not going.” Dieter has been arguing with Libby for forty-five minutes. Staring darkly up at his manager as he very pointedly sits in his boxers and a bathrobe, not dressed for his date. “I’m never going again. So just fucking forget it. Let her out of that stupid ass contract, because I have no intention of doing anything else.” That was entirely true, because apparently Nora knew about Taco Tuesday and he wasn’t disappointing her, but after waking up alone, he wanted nothing to do with you.

“If you would tell me what the hell happened, I might consider it.” She’s asked five times now and he keeps dodging the question, and it’s making her more and more aggravated. Dieter can be evasive in general, but this is bad even for him. “You’re already late, so what’s the five minutes it’s going to take to tell me why you hate her all over again?”

He stares at her for a few moments, about to continue the stubborn silence but he finally huffs. Looking away in embarrassment and a little sadness, he mumbles, “She took off while I was asleep.” He confesses quietly.

Libby stares right back for a second, jaw almost dropping open before she can stop herself. That was not the response she had been expecting, and judging from the pout on his face it’s actually something that is upsetting him. “No note?” She asks, leaning back against his sink. “She seems like the note type.”

“Fucking nothing.” He sneers, shaking his head. “She’s made it clear that she regrets it. Didn’t even text me. So I’m not going to bother.”

“Maybe she thought you would regret it and didn’t want to hang around just to be asked to leave.” If anything, Libby would be a damn liar if she claimed nothing like that had ever happened to her when she first got to LA. The doubting expression on Dieter’s face is unshakeable, though, and she shrugs. “I don’t know, Dee. Neither of you has ever been particularly excited about the whole thing but it’s doing exactly what we want it to.” She puts on her most excited face, trying to entice him into some kind of positivity. “The contract from Paramount that just came through has a clause for two more pictures and they approved your entire rider.”

“No.” Dieter shakes his head and huffs. “I don’t care, it’s enough.” He tells her. “Once I get through Taco Tuesday and leave for Switzerland, I’m happy to never think about her again.”

“Taco Tuesday?” She raises an eyebrow at him in question. Usually he’s not one to participate in cutesy shit like that.

Dieter rolls his eyes and huffs again, feeling a little self-conscious. “I promised Nora I would watch Toy Story with her, and Tuesday is the only day that would work and it’s apparently Taco Tuesday in their household.” He explains, making sure to emphasize that he was going for Nora. Kids don’t deserve the shitty end of the stick because their aunt sucks.

“Tuesday is tomorrow,” Libby tells him gently, in case he hasn’t looked at a calendar yet today. He made his costume fitting earlier but that was because the studio sent a car for him. “You’re gonna go have dinner with her tomorrow after standing her up tonight?” Her shoulders tense, seeing the obvious flaw in that plan. “You know I can’t let her out of the contract, Dee. It’s too important. But if you post the tiniest bit on your social media from dinner tomorrow night, I’ll call her right now and tell her to go home. Can we call that a deal?” There’s still the sixth date to consider, and she’ll have to figure out what the hell to do about it, but she can cross that bridge on her own and tell him the plan later.

Dieter bites his lip but after a moment of consideration, he blows out a sigh. “Fine.” He narrows his eyes at Libby. “But I’m not doing a sixth date.” He promises. “Sue my ass, I don’t care.”

“I’ll figure something out.” She’s good at that. The problem solving of having movie star clients is something that she’s very good at, in fact. He doesn’t always like her solutions at first, but she definitely gets her desired results four out of five times. That’s why she’s worked for him for so long - she works for him.

“Yeah.” Dieter rolls his eyes and leans back in his seat; happy he’s gotten his way. “Don’t tell her.” He decides, smirking slightly. “Let her sit there.”

“She’s not the Wicked Witch of the West, Dee.” Libby shakes her head. She has no intention of letting you stew, but judging from how hurt he is she might wait a little while before calling. “I’m guessing this was about the party?”

“It’s about the fact that she snuck out of bed and left and didn’t even give me a ‘fuck you Bravo’!” He leaps up out of his seat and turned to the window. The sheets had been changed and he was honestly thinking about getting rid of the entire bed.

“Dee.” Libby almost groans at the realization but smothers it with a sigh. “You like her now. Don’t you? You did a complete 180.”

“No.” He refuses to look her in the face, staring out at the pool as if he can magically transport himself to it. “I don’t and drop it.” He warns, turning around to level a glare at her.

Holding up both hands in a show of innocence, Libby takes a step back out of range of his glare. “Okay, okay.” He absolutely fucking does like you. She’s only ever seen him go from childish to angry like this when his heart is completely on the line, so she definitely has her answer. And that is enough to let her change the subject. “Are you packed yet?”

“Yes.” Dieter shrugs one shoulder and gestures towards his closet. “No. I’ll be ready by the time I leave.” Because of the locale and what it means, he will dress a little better. As if in tribute to his sister. She would have pulled his ear if he tried to walk into a museum in a bathrobe.

“I’ll get you packed.” Like with everything else in his life, Libby knows Dieter’s most and least favourite things, and also the things that are bad habits that she can help break him of with a little gentle prodding. Like packing shirts that fit him properly as well as the soft, shapeless t-shirts that he loves. “I’ll come by tomorrow while you’re doing your at taco night and pack you up. We won’t do it tonight so that you don’t have to think about it. Okay?”

“Okay.” Dieter shrugs and turns away from the window. “I’m gonna go for a swim.” He announces, eager to get away from the questioning eyes of his manager.

“Okay.” Libby nods, knowing that that is the end of the conversation for tonight. “Try to get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Dieter glances at the woman studying him and gives another halfhearted shrug. “‘Night.” He tells her. “Go home to your soulmate. Stop worrying about mine.”

“I worry about you,” she clarifies, but turns for the door. “I haven’t stuck with you for twenty years just for the pay, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He huffs, smiling slightly and rolling his eyes. “It’s because you’re secretly in love with me.”

“Our little secret.” Libby offers him a smile, and turns to leave. She’ll come back tomorrow and pack some of his favorite treats into his suitcases for Switzerland. With Dieter the little things make all the difference, and if he’s nursing a broken heart then he deserves all the big and little things in the world.

Dieter peels off his robe and dives into the pool, not even caring that he’s not wearing swimming trunks. The cool water surrounds him and instantly relaxes his volatile emotions. He hopes you are standing at that pier a long time, although he figures you probably didn’t even show up yourself.

******

It’s been two hours, but you haven’t dared to call or even text him. If he didn’t bother contacting you after fucking you, and now he’s just not showing up for one of his manager’s precious arranged dates? He’s done with you. The message couldn’t be clearer: You served your purpose and now he’s done. The worst part isn’t that you’re being rejected by your soulmate. Sure that’s fucking heart breaking to think about, but the worst part is that you’re going to have to explain to Nora that she isn’t going to see him ever again.

******

Dieter huffs to himself as he stands in front of the door he would have been happy to be in front of just a week ago. Or at least not as upset to be here. He knows you will be here, but he’s just going to focus on Nora. The gift in his hand for her. Sighing, he presses the doorbell at seven on the dot.

Your neck nearly snaps when the doorbell rings, and you can hear Nora happily cheering from the living room where she and Steph have been setting up the movie and TV trays around the sofa for movie night. Your time in the kitchen is usually soothing but all you’ve been able to think about is actually joking with Dieter in the car about taco toppings like some kind of normal couple getting to know each other instead of the fucked-up mess you are together. For whatever godforsaken reason, though, he’s here. And on time, to boot. “I’ll get it!” Steph calls, hurrying to the door before you can even put your knife down. She’s heard you crying the last couple of days and she hates it, so beating you to the door is an effort to prevent immediate shouting.

He’s relieved to see a face that he considers friendly. “Hey Steph.” He greets her breathlessly and bites his lip. “I, uh, Nora and I are supposed to watch Toy Story?”

“Yeah,” she nods, being plenty aware of the plan. She had thought it was a great sign until she saw your mood the last few days. “Come on in. It’s…uh, it’s a family thing, so that includes you.”

“I don’t know about family.” He murmurs, feeling self-conscious and apprehensive about seeing you again. “But I appreciate the opportunity to see Nora before I leave.”

“You’re family.” Steph assures him quietly, shutting the door behind him. “Family doesn’t always agree or get along one hundred percent of the time, but they matter to each other. And Uncle Deedee matters.”

“Maybe to Squirt.” Dieter huffs and reaches into the bag to pull out a bottle of tequila he had brought her. “For my hostess. Can’t have tacos without tequila.”

“Thanks.” She really is at a loss for what to say beyond trying to promise him that he is not the enemy. Not to her and Nora. Your stance is a little shaky at the moment. “Come on in. There’s fresh guacamole and queso and more chips than have ever been in one place before.”

Dieter is saved from more awkward conversation by a loud, happy squeal. “Uncle Deedee!” He turns and grins when he sees Nora rushing towards him, outfitted in her Jessie costume. “Hey, Squirt!”

Steph shuffles into the kitchen guiltily to grab the appetizer tray and you nearly wince. “I can’t believe he came.”

“Well, he’s here.” Steph murmurs softly.

“Yeah.” You nod in the vaguest way possible, feeling small and petty for being hurt over it. “I know it’s just for Nora. I know that. But—” But he couldn’t at least text you to tell you that he had gotten what he wanted? “I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t go out there.”

Steph sighs and rolls her shoulder back, listening to the sounds of Dieter and Nora chatting animatedly. “What happened?” She’s tired of assuming the worst, but she’s determined to figure out how to advise you.

“We—” You sigh, putting down the knife in your hand and looking down at the kitchen counter instead of up at your friend. “We slept together. And I don’t remember much, to be honest. But I had to leave the next morning to get home and I couldn’t wake him up, so I left him a note. Apparently that wasn’t good enough because he hasn’t spoken to me since and he stood me up yesterday.”

“Oh shit.” Out of everything, Steph hadn’t expected that. Not even with you coming home the next morning. You had looked hung over, so she had just assumed you had crashed. “I— are you—was it—?” She can’t get the words out because she doesn’t believe Dieter is that type of man, but…

“I don’t know.” Shrugging deeply, you scrub both hands down your face and groan. “I know I enjoyed myself. I remember that much. But clearly that doesn’t mean shit.”

“How do you know you enjoyed it?” She asks, concerned.

“I started remembering little bits.” It was a shock, the first time a little memory had come back to you, and you had pushed it out of your head immediately, but a few more memories had followed over the last few days. “Just a few flashes, but graphic ones.” And it hurts so much worse knowing it had been good before it all went wrong again.

She feels a little better at that, knowing you aren’t the type of person to just give in if you don’t want something. “And of course, talking isn’t an option.” She murmurs to herself, amazed at how stubborn the two of you are. A perfect match in her opinion.

“The ball is still in his court.” You have no problem saying that, but he better have a hell of an apology for yesterday. “I left him a note. He chose not to talk to me after that.”

Steph bites her lip, knowing that you wouldn’t appreciate her putting in her obvious questions. You already feel like she’s ‘team Dieter’ so it’s best to not ask where you left the note. “Just— hopefully tonight goes well.” She murmurs finally.

“I’m not going to cause shit.” Of course not. You wouldn’t do that to your niece. “Tonight is for Nora.”

“For Nora.” Steph nods, reaching out and rubbing your shoulder gently. “I’m here if you need to talk.” She offers, knowing that you normally run to talk to her, but this time you’ve been quiet.

“I’ll get over it.” It’s barely a mumble as you go back to slicing radishes to add to the tray of taco toppings. “He obviously got what he wanted from me. No use pretending it was anything more.”

Your best friend sighs and shakes her head, wondering why they hell you haven’t learned your lesson about communication. “If that’s what you want.” She comments as she walks out into the main living area.

******

Dinner would have been pure torture if not for the movie. Nora happily chatters along with the dialogue while the adults eat much more slowly, and you park yourself in the armchair next to the end of the couch he isn’t sitting on to put some distance between you. Not that he’s even glanced in your direction the entire night. Not one single time. And no matter how many times you tell yourself that it is what it is, it still fucking hurts.

Dieter can feel the aching hurt just crawling under his skin. Making him want to scratch endlessly along his body and tear it out. He wants to yell at you, demand to know why he wasn’t good enough. Worse, he wants to kiss you again.

It’s bullshit that you have to sit here and pretend everything is okay, and you practically jump up out of your seat when Nora yawns and stretches as the credits begin to roll. Picking up plates and cups and loading everything onto a tray to bring back to the kitchen, everything is fine until you reach to snag the plate from in front of Dieter without realizing that his hand was touching it. Touching him is not what you needed tonight.

Dieter yanks his hand back like he’s been burned, hating the way that his stomach twists and clenches almost painfully. “I gotta go, Squirt.” He murmurs as he all but leaps up off the couch and pats his pockets for his keys. “You be good for your mom, okay?”

“Uncle Deedee nooooo!” She pouts, yawning again. “Don’t want you to go!” She’s had fun tonight and even though she knows she’s going to have to go to bed she wants him there until the very last second.

“How about I carry you up?” He compromises, heart melting towards the little girl. She has a special place in his heart. A reminder of everything good and sweet that was still around.

“Really?” She just about lights up, arms already open wide to sling around his neck. “Yes, please!”

He pretends to grunt, huffing at her playfully. “Bigger than you look, squirt.” He teases. “Might have to carry me upstairs.”

“Noooooo.” She giggles, grabbing on to him like she used to do to with Shawn when he carried her the same way. It makes you want to scream and cry and ask him what the hell you did wrong this time, but you can’t even open your mouth or move.

It’s a fucking shame that this wonderful little girl was your niece. Especially since he was certain that eventually you would prevent him from seeing her or Steph again. “Okaaaaay.” He grumbles and starts for the stairs. “I’ll carry you this time.”

Steph disappears after them as you pile things up on the tray and bring them back to the kitchen. There’s a lot to clean up and you’re probably going to have a hell of a lot to drink once he’s gone, drowning the remnants of chips and guac in tequila like it will somehow make you less sad.

******

Upstairs, Dieter is fascinated by Nora’s bedtime routine. Nodding as she shows him her toothbrush and humming in approval when she reappears in a Toy Story nightgown. When she’s in her bed, he winks at her and bends down to kiss her forehead. “Night, squirt.”

“Night night.” Nora hugs him tight before reaching for her mother, demanding more hugs from a second source. “Night night, Mommy. And night night to Auntie Gigi.”

His stomach twists at the mention of you and he gives a small smile as he backs out of the doorway. Having every intention of sneaking out without seeing you again.

An intention that backfires when you’re standing in the living room collecting rejected drink glasses when he hits the bottom of the staircase. “Thank you for not punishing her for things she has nothing to do with.” Twenty minutes alone in the kitchen and that’s what you decided to say to him. No yelling, no anger, no self-pity.

Snorting, he can’t even begin to fathom the audacity you have. “She speaks!” He cries softly, scornfully. “She’s innocent.”

“I speak?” And just like that, the self-righteous fury is right on the surface. “You have been freezing me out, not the other way around.”

He probably resembles a fish the way that his mouth works for several moments, opening and closing without any words coming out of them. Indignation fills him and he narrows his eyes. “Considering the way you snuck out and didn’t say a goddamn word, I figured it was exactly what you wanted.”

“I told you exactly where I was going.” You shoot back, glad the cups in your hands are all plastic and all empty. “But I’m sorry a damn note isn’t good enough for Dieter fucking Bravo. What the hell else was I supposed to do?”

“What note?” He demands, hands on his hips and his voice creeps up a notch. “You didn’t leave a fucking note!” Sneering, he shakes his head. “I woke up, alone, after a great night to find out my soulmate would prefer a walk of shame rather than stay in the bed with me.”

The way your face falls is complete – understanding dawning all at once. “On your sketch pad. It was the only paper I could find.” You tell him, voice strangled in your throat. “I left you a note that I had to come home to take care of Nora but that we should talk.” At the time you had been afraid of him not being happy to see you there in the morning but now he’s calling it great? “I tried to wake you up…but you wouldn’t budge.”

He wants to call you a liar, to scoff and say that there was no note on his sketch pad, but he hadn't looked at it. Especially after waking up alone and feeling the overwhelming disappointment that had crept over him. He had searched the entire house for you, until Rico told him that he had taken you home, although he had cut the man off before he could even finish the statement. "I—" His voice cracks and he shoves his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for you. Trying to shield himself from being vulnerable as his shoulders round. "I didn't see it." He admits, voice low. "I just – I thought you regretted it and I – when I am completely relaxed and....happy, I'm a heavy sleeper."

“When I just didn’t hear anything from you, I thought you regretted it.” And you had cried yourself to sleep at the thought of your soulmate regretting you, but he doesn’t need to know that. “I don’t actually remember much…but I had promised Nora a trip to the zoo that next day, and I…” He looks so wounded, like a spurned puppy, and all of your anger completely melts away. Of course he was freezing you out if he thought you took off. You would have done the same thing. “If you called after you woke up, I was going to ask you to spend the day with us…but then I didn’t hear anything and I—I was afraid to call just to find out that you didn’t want to see me again…”

“I—” He’s horrified that you don’t remember, especially since he remembers everything. “I was looking for you.” He promises. “Wanted to— wanted to take you out to brunch. And maybe even bring you to the appointments I had, if you had wanted to.” He had woken up happy, not ready to let go of that date. “I thought you skulked out because you were upset you had— that we had slept together.”

“No.” Shaking your head and shoving your one free hand in your pocket purely out of nerves, all you can really do for a moment is stand there. “I wasn’t upset. I just wish I could remember more than a few flashes here and there.”

Dieter goes a little green, shuffling on his feet and reaching up to scrub at the back of his neck. “It was— uh, shit…” He hisses. “I didn’t coerce you; I promise.”

“I remember enough to know that,” you promise him quietly. And Rico had also assured you of it that morning. “I’m sorry we got our wires crossed, but I really—” Your drooping shoulders pull up in a shrug. “I’m sorry I was too scared to call. We could have had this conversation days ago.”

“I thought you still hated me.” He confesses, dropping his eyes down to the floor and staring at his feet. “That it was a mistake you had made when you were drunk.”

“I was definitely drunk.” That is definitely something you can say without hesitation. “But I hope it wasn’t a mistake.”

“What do you remember?” He asks, biting his lip as he thinks about that night. He had tried to avoid thinking about it after he woke up alone, but he was definitely thinking about it now.

“Um…” Glancing up the stairs, it’s clear that Steph is either reading Nora a second bedtime story or lingering on the top floor to give you privacy, and you make a mental note to thank her for it profusely - probably with cookies and booze. “I remember some specifically placed body shots…and feeling like you were going to rearrange my damn organs while you were inside me…” Saying any of it out loud - even slightly mumbling and quiet - just isn’t your normal kind of behaviour and you feel like your face is going to overheat and set on fire. “And that you wouldn’t let me go down on you because it had been a while.”

“So you don’t remember the car?” He asks quietly, cock twitching when he hears you telling him what you remember. The bottle of rum was still sitting on his bedside table. Even if he hadn’t slept in the bed since that morning.

“Wh—what did we do in the car?” Oh Jesus…you’re never going to be able to look Rico in the face ever again…

“You— I fingered you.” He tells you. “You were on my lap, and we couldn’t wait to get home.”

“That…” Even with one hand covering your face, you groan slightly in embarrassment. “That tracks. For me anyway. I’m—” Oh, the irony. “I’m kind of a horny drunk. In case that wasn’t clear.”

“Oh.” He nods, wondering if it was just because you were drunk. It must be, considering he doubts you would have slept with him sober. “That’s okay.” He tells you.

“No! No, shit, that’s not what I meant.” Having kept yourself from breaching the three feet between you, it seems like now it the time. He doesn’t step away as you step forward, so you’ll take that as a good sign as you gently reach out to touch his arm. “It’s like…if I’m with someone I like…it takes away the fear. All the voices in my head telling me why I shouldn’t, or trying to convince me that the other person doesn’t like me the same…they go away. Not that I’ll just throw caution to the wind and fuck anybody around after two glasses of champagne.”

Relief and honestly, fear, washes over him. Fear that you will find him lacking. That he will be everything you expected. “Okay.” He understands needing something to be relaxed enough. Fuck knows he’s done enough drugs to understand that. “I understand.” He swallows down the way his stomach rolls. “I didn’t— I don’t— it was really good.” He murmurs softly.

“Then I hope I remember more.” It’s been a little bit every day, and before right now, that has been a devastating thing to deal with. “I get why you stood me up, if you just thought I left without a word.”

“I didn’t see the note.” He murmurs, shuffling closer to you, as if drawn to you. “I’m sorry.” He knows now that it seems like he was a dick. “I just – I wish you had texted me. Or that I had woken up.” He blushes slightly.

“We’re sensationally bad at this.” It actually makes you laugh despite yourself, a wry little chuckle as he steps closer. “Maybe…” It’s a wild, crazy, flying leap, but it’s on the tip of your tongue and didn’t you just say how bad you are at communicating? “Maybe…I don’t know what filming is like…but maybe we could talk sometimes?” The part of you that wants to grab on to him right here and right now and start making ludicrous promises is definitely not the part to let free, but talking is good. Talking is responsible and positive and hopefully won’t backfire. The last few days have made it perfectly clear to you that you don’t want to just lose him altogether. “I know you’re leaving in a few days and you’re probably super busy…”

“We can talk.” Dieter interrupts, nodding quickly. “I— if you text me, I’ll answer when I can.” He doesn’t want to leave things in such an awkward place, hoping that at least the two of you can be amicable even if he wonders if it will ever be more than just that night.

“I can do that.” He’s so close that it would take almost no effort to just lean forward and kiss him but you’re sure that would be crossing a line. “By the time you get back, I’ll be back in school, so my schedule will be a little tighter. But that’s okay.”

He nods, now slightly regretting taking the project. He couldn’t have ever anticipated actually not wanting to leave so he could spend time with you, but here he is.

“Are we…” You hate how small your voice sounds, and how you’re still afraid to reach for him despite the small touch to his arm a second ago. This man has literally been inside you - you shouldn’t have to be afraid of touching him. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah.” Dieter nods, giving you a very serious look. “We’re okay. I’m sorry again.” He murmurs. “I—I would have texted you.”

“Thank god for Taco Tuesday, I guess.” Without it, you’d both be too stubborn and proud to have ever spoken up, and you would have gone on assuming that he regretted sleeping with you.

“Thank God for Taco Tuesday.” Dieter grins, shaking his head. He bites his lip and decides that while it will be too much to kiss you, but he does pull you in for a hug.

He’s a completely enveloping presence, with a broad as he is and as well as his arms fit around you. Both of your arms go around his waist, and even with the cups you’re hanging onto with one hand, you still feel like it’s the best hug you’ve had in years. You don’t want to admit that you’ll probably miss him while he’s gone, but right now you swear you’re so relieved at knowing he isn’t mad at you anymore that you might not let him go.

“So, let’s make a deal.” He murmurs, not wanting to quite let go of you. “We work on this communication thing.” He chuckles quietly. “Obviously we aren’t good at it. And my job is communicating with my audience.”

“We suck at it.” You snort, laughing a little against his chest. “Like we’re probably the poster couple for shitty communication.” It’s the first time that word has ever crossed your lips in reference to the two of you and you can feel the way you hold your breath instinctively - worried that you’ve stepped too far somehow. The only person who’s ever called you a couple is Libby or sometimes the media, but that doesn’t mean he actually wants to be with you.

“I don’t think Mate Marks wants to advertise that.” He huffs in amusement, unable to describe how light he feels when you call the two of you a couple. Even though he’s never wanted to think in those terms, since him…it just clicks in his brain. “We might have to just keep these stories an inside joke.”

“The world doesn’t have to know everything.” They definitely don’t know all of how rocky your beginning was, even if Fuck you, Bravo! did turn into an immediate meme. You do feel pretty bad about that one. “What are you thinking? Like phone chat dates? Or are we instituting an honesty time and banning sarcasm all together?” Pulling your head away from the sound of his heartbeat, you end up smirking a little. “Because if you ban sarcasm, I’m going to lose my sense of humour completely.”

“I like just the idea of before we put our foot in our mouths and assume, we just be honest first.” Dieter pulls back and smirks at you.

“So, completely the opposite of what we’ve been doing until now?” You huff at him, playfully indignant in the moment. “Fine, I guess.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “I better go.” He murmurs, sad that he has to. “I have an early morning.” With as much as he has to do, drinking and partying would have been limited even if he was still using.

“Okay.” It twists your gut in a way you don’t really know how to handle, but you hug him one more time before forcing yourself to let go and step back. A month is a long time, but maybe reducing your contact to only conversation will be good for this new resolution of better communication.

“Goodnight.” If the past few days hadn’t happened the way they had, he would kiss you, instead he just offers you a smile.

“Goodnight.” There’s an ache in your chest that you refuse to name as he walks through the front door, but at least this time you know he’ll be back - and it won’t be to yell at you.

******

Libby lets herself into Dieter’s house, unsure of what exactly is still going on between you and her client. She had called you as soon as she left, making apologies but not lying about why Dieter wasn’t showing up to the fifth date. Just that he wasn’t. She had heard the hurt and confusion in your voice.

Packing Dieter is simple. She knows his taste and what he needs, which things he prefers and which things he’ll only wear or use if she forces him. Since he’s going to Switzerland, she moves to gather up his favourite art supplies and stops short. A scrawled few sentences in handwriting she doesn’t recognize — signed by you. She knew you were a fucking note person! From how hurt Dieter was yesterday there’s no way he lied about not seeing it. He must genuinely have not picked up his sketchbook since then. The idea dawns slowly, but as she stares at the note that innocently explains having to take care of your niece and wanting to talk about what happened, she pulls her business phone from her pocket and opens the recent calls list to find the airline Dieter is flying to Switzerland. One more ticket needs to be bought, for a later flight to the same destination. In your name this time. The two of you are going to work this out if it kills you.

******

Dieter both loves and hates traveling. He loves visiting new places, physically seeing things that he would draw in his art classes in school. Trying new cuisine and learning local traditions. He hates everything to do with TSA and Customs. Finally on board, he sighs and reaches for his phone, deciding that he will at least send you a text before he turns it off for the flight. “Want Swiss chocolate when I come back?”

“The Lindt factory tour is on my bucket list 💗 that would be amazing of you.” The text comes back almost immediately, practically beaming through the phone.

Dieter grins and sends back a few emojis before the intercom on the plane come on. “👍🍫 🍫 🍫✈” He shuts off his phone and wonders when he can get a drink.

******

You’re still smiling at your phone over your breakfast when it unexpectedly rings. Libby’s name splashes across the screen and you scrunch your nose, wondering what she might have to say. Dieter just got on the plane; she can’t possibly be trying to schedule a date. “Hi Libby,” you decide not to send her to voicemail, knowing she’ll just call back if you do.

“I need you to pack your bags.” Libby announces without preamble. “You have a flight in three hours to Switzerland.”

“Excuse me?” Your jaw nearly hits the table, eyes blowing wide.

“The fifth date didn’t happen.” Libby reminds you, not that you are at fault. “You are going to join Dieter in Switzerland and stay with him while he is shooting the movie.”

“You’re serious?” There’s a mild panic in your voice, not because you don’t want to see him again but because his manager just expects you to pack up and rearrange your life at the drop of a hat. “Exactly how long are you supposedly sending me halfway across the world? I don’t exactly have the funds for that. And that means Steph will have no one to help look after Nora.”

“Actually, that’s already been taken care of.” Libby announces. “Rico will watch Nora; he has experience with managing Dieter so a four-year-old is a piece of cake.” She jokes with a small laugh. “And the ticket is already booked. First class. Everything will be covered for you while you are there.”

“What, you’re just going to hand me a copy of Dee’s black AmEx card and send me off to Europe?” You practically scoff into your phone but eventually sigh. The contract you signed never stated where or when the six dates would occur, so technically she is within her legal rights to say that visiting him there is one of them. “Does he know I’m coming?”

“Nope.” Libby practically sings the one-word answer. “I didn’t get a chance to tell him, but I’m sure he will be thrilled.” He hadn’t come home in a bad mood according to Rico when she checked in this morning; so it was promising.

“Didn’t get a chance to tell him or intentionally didn’t mention it?” Face dropping into one upturned palm, you huff another sigh and admit to yourself that it will be whatever it will be. “How long am I supposed to be there for, and do I get to wear my own clothes? Logistical questions are what I’m going to ask you instead of getting indignant at being surprised.”

“I’m going to have a selection of clothes waiting for you, but you should also bring your favorite things.” Libby pauses and decides that she’s going to give you leverage if you need it. “Dee likes you, just— think of it as a long-deserved vacation with your soulmate. And learning how hard he works.”

“Are you coming by to drop off my tickets?” Considering you haven’t flown out of any airport in nearly ten years, the intricacies of digital check ins and in-app boarding passes escape you. “I’ll have to talk to Steph about all this. Three hours isn’t a lot of prep time.”

“I can come by and make sure you have everything you need.” Libby promises, having already put together a travel kit for Dee’s soulmate. She likes you, despite the way the two of you seem to clash. And now that Dee has done a 180 on his feelings for you, she will be your biggest supporter if it means you make her client happy.

“Okay.” You take a sip of your coffee and lean back at the breakfast table. Steph and Nora are outside in the backyard gardening, so you might as well go talk to them now. “I’ll see you when you get here, then. I’m going to go talk to Steph.”

“Okay!” Having expected far more of an argument, Libby quickly agrees and hangs up the phone, doing a little victory dance in the hallway of her office.

Shoving your cell phone into your pocket and pushing back from the table, you grab your coffee mug with one hand and the remnants of your bagel in the other and head outside. “Nora baby, do you wanna head inside and wash your hands? I need to talk to Mommy for a second.”

It’s never a good sign when you sent Nora away, especially when she’s outside. Steph paints a smile on her face and nods at Nora. “Go on, sweetheart.” She urges her. “Adult conversations aren’t fun.”

“Libby called.” You start, as soon as Nora disappears past you into the kitchen, and you finish chewing the end of the bagel that you shoved into your mouth. “Apparently the fifth date has been rescheduled.”

“Oh?” As far as Steph knew, Dieter was leaving for Switzerland today. “Did his departure get delayed a week?”

“No. He texted me from the plane, he’s already left.” Both of your hands wrap around your coffee mug, and you blow out a nervous sigh. “It seems I’m going, too.”

“Do what?” Her mouth drops open in shock and she stares at you in shock. “I – I thought—” she doesn’t mention how upset you had been yesterday. After Dieter left, you had gone to your room, and she had been hesitant to go in to check on you.

“That was pretty much my reaction, too.” You admit, sinking down next to her in the chair that Nora had just vacated. “We talked before he left last night, and we said we’d talk while he was away and try to be better about communicating instead of assuming. But this…this is a lot. And by calling it the fifth date, it falls under the contract and I kind of have no choice.”

“I— you’re going to Switzerland!” Steph is shocked but one thousand percent happy for you to be able to travel. She chews her lip and nods. “Nora will just go to daycare and you better send me a million pictures!”

“Libby says she’s arranged for someone from Dee’s staff to help out. You know Rico? The guy from his security staff that drives him sometimes? Uh…apparently he has childcare qualifications.” It makes you tighten again inwardly, guilt for leaving mixing with excitement at being able to travel — and to be able to see Dieter. You have to admit that to yourself – you do actually want to see him. “You can say no, and I’ll tell her to just forget it. But I don’t want you to be without help while I’m gone.”

“Rico?” Steph arches a brow and shakes her head at you. “There is no way you are turning down an opportunity to travel.” She insists. “I’m assuming you aren’t having to pay for it?”

“Apparently it’s all-expenses-paid as far as I’m concerned.” You’ve never paid for a single thing where Dieter in concerned, and though that makes sense considering the contract and the fact that he makes literally millions more than you, it still makes you a little uneasy. The idea of taking advantage of him doesn’t sit well. “Libby’s on her way over to drop off the tickets and some other stuff.” Shuffling in your seat, you look over at your best friend and sigh. “The only thing is…he doesn’t know I’m coming. Libby clearly thinks making it a surprise is some kind of genius move.”

“I— he doesn’t know?” Steph frowns and sighs. “Does she know about what happened between you two?” She asks. “You said you two talked last night.”

“I don’t know what he told her, but I’m hoping she’s not gleefully sending me into what she thinks is a lion’s den.” A surprise is one thing, but a bad surprise is entirely another. “I guess we’ll do my birthday when I get back? Except it’ll be a reverse birthday since I’m definitely bringing you guys souvenirs.”

“Maybe she –” Steph bites her lip. “You think this is because he said something to her? To convince her that you needed to be there?”

“I really don’t know,” you admit, more than a trace of sheepishness in your voice. “But do you guys want to come upstairs with me while I pack? We can explain to Nora where I’m going together?”

“That sounds like a plan.” Steph quickly climbs to her feet. “It’s great.” She gushes. “You’ve wanted to travel more and now you get to.” She turns halfway to the door and grins. “You are going to have an amazing time.” She predicts.

******

Even in first class, eleven hours is a hell of a long time to be on an airplane. The nonstop flight included luxuries you didn’t even know airplanes offered, and you managed to finally finish reading the book you had started two weeks ago but could never find time for. Amazing food, drinks always just a polite request away, but still - eleven hours took its toll. Landing in Geneva at 10pm, you found yourself appropriately exhausted as you looked out into the sea of people waiting at the international arrivals gate to retrieve their travelers. Though you secretly hoped he would be there to pick you up you knew that it wouldn’t be the case, and sure enough a uniformed woman with white-blonde hair and a generous smile is holding a sign with your name on it.

Suitcases in the trunk, you pour yourself into the car for what the cheery woman promises will be a short drive. She hands you an envelope once you’re settled and pulls the car out into the streets of Geneva, headed for the Hôtel Métropole. A credit card with your name on it (clearly attached to a business expense account), a room key marked for the Calvin Suite, a map of the city, and a visitor’s pass for the studio you assume Dieter is working at, are all sitting inside waiting for you. Three weeks. Three weeks spending every single day in a country whose languages you don’t speak, spending hopefully just a tiny bit of time with your soulmate each day. This…might actually be fun, despite the layer of scared that’s coloring your outlook. You just wish Dieter knew you were coming.

******

Dieter groans as he steps out of the shower. It had been a grueling day, unfortunately the moment he disembarked and got through customs, he was busy. Meeting the director and taking care of the last-minute issues with his costume and character. A true ‘hit the ground running’ situation and he was exhausted. Thankfully the next two days were devoted to jet lag, allowing other pour souls to filter in from around the world to make this movie. As soon as he throws his robe on, he’s ordering too service and passing out. After he sends you a quick text to check in.

The hotel staff is kind when you are ushered inside, greeting you in French and then English as you pass by. The elevator would be distractingly gorgeous if you weren’t so tired, and you figure you’ll just get upstairs and order some room service and text Dieter before passing out. Steph already got a text to say you landed safely, and that was that. Since Dieter has no idea you’re here, you’ll surprise him fresh in the morning. Not in the crinkled linen shirt and jeans you just traveled half a day in.

Dieter had just put the hotel phone down, room service ordered, when he hears the electronic lock on his door gets accessed. Turning in bewilderment, he watches the door swing open slowly, as if someone is cautiously making their way in, wondering who the fuck has a key card to his room.

The second you’re through the door he’s right there, and you swear you couldn’t feel like more of an idiot if you tried. Libby has completely played you without effort - sending you on a surprise visit and giving you a key to his room so casually that you didn’t even stop to consider that you wouldn’t be given your own space. Of course not. This is all about getting the two of you seen together. Well…at least there’s a sofa for you to sleep on, since you’re not expecting an invitation back into his bed any time soon - despite having to admit to yourself that you would probably accept if it was offered.

“Surprise,” you manage to murmur, obviously as shocked as he is for you to be walking through his hotel room door with a pair of suitcases.

He stares for a moment, wondering if he’s having some kind of dream or if he taken ‘shrooms without knowing it. You aren’t supposed to be here, but you are. “Hey.” When he gets over his shock, when he can think again, he’s rushing forward to help you with your stuff. You look as worn out as he feels.

“Hey.” His suite has a full front sitting room and more beyond that, but you don’t have time to think about what else might be waiting for you because he’s ushering you inside as soon as the door clicks shut behind you. Wet hair, worn t-shirt, pajama pants, robe. He must have been getting ready for bed. “Libby arranged a little surprise for you…I, um…I hope this is okay?” You swallow down the fear that he won’t be okay with you being here. Don’t assume. Let him tell you how he feels about it.

“I— yeah.” Dieter nods, wiping his hands on his pajama pants and looks around the room. “I— it’ll make it easier to text.” He jokes.

“Yeah, definitely.” Looking around you, even a little further into the suite, it’s clear that he must have told Libby everything that happened between you, because through the open doors you catch sight of only one bed. “Nora and Steph asked for pictures,” you murmur, defaulting to talking about the two people you both universally enjoy. “So I might tourist a little while you’re working. I—I don’t want to…you know. Be in the way.”

Dieter realizes you are in his room, with your stuff. “I— are you okay staying with me?” He asks, not knowing what she might have said to you about sleeping arrangements. “Or do you want to see about your own room?”

"To be honest?" Honesty is what you agreed on, after all. "I don't mind sleeping on the couch if sharing a bed makes you uncomfortable, but...three weeks in a foreign country where I don't speak the language and don't know why way around? I… I think it might be nice to share space." As soon as it's out of your mouth, you're rolling your eyes at yourself, knowing that it didn't sound as good out loud as it did in your head. "If it starts to bug you that you don't have any privacy, I'll ask for my own room. But it...it might be nice to share?" It would be a comfort to be able to share space with the literal only other person in the country you know. The fact that it's him? Well...you said you wanted to get to know each other, right?

“We don’t have to have sex.” Dieter immediately assures you. “It’s not— I don’t mind sharing a bed with you.” He had slept incredibly well next to you. “It’s a king-sized bed, you won’t even know I’m there.” He jokes, wondering why Libby sprang you on him and didn’t book you a separate room.

You can't help but chuckle, mostly at yourself, and offer him a shrug. "I've never shared a bed with anybody but you and a very cuddly toddler, so if I end up rolling over too close to you in the middle of the night, just push me away."

“I don’t mind that.” He admits quietly. “I’m kinda a cuddler.”

"I guess we'll see what happens." As casual as you can possibly sound, your body's reaction to being able to be in the same bed as him again is definitely louder - the distinct feeling of arousal making you feel much warmer all of a sudden. "Don't let me interrupt whatever you were doing...I can unpack tomorrow if you were headed to sleep."

“No! I, uh, are you hungry? I ordered room service and I can add on to it for you.” Dieter offers.

Nearly groaning, you barely manage to stop yourself from the obscene sound you would have made and nod. "I'm starving," you admit with a laugh. "I was too nervous on the plane to each much."

“Okay.” Dieter nods and walks over to the book with the room service menu. “Pick out what you want, and I’ll add it to your order.”

The room service menu, like the hotel, is incredibly fancy and some of the items are unfamiliar. With as tired as you are, you're not up for a lot of experimenting, and the discovery of a few different kinds of upscale sliders being offered is delightful. After pointing out the item to Dieter and thanking him again, you're ready to just leave your suitcases where they are for now except you have to dig out some pajamas before exhaustion completely takes you over.

"This place is huge." You observe rather uselessly. "Which way is the bathroom? I'm just...just going to put on my pjs. We can eat and hit the hay? I'm guessing you have a lot to do tomorrow."

Dieter nods and points to the doorway through the separate bedroom. “If you want, go ahead and shower and I’ll make sure that I call you when it’s done.”

"Thank you." Snagging your new, Libby-provided backpack with all your toiletries and a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt stashed in the bottom, you instinctively reach to squeeze his hand as you walk by him in the direction he pointed. "I won't take long."

“Okay.” Dieter grins and nods. “I’ll order it right away.” He tells you. “You shower and get the travel grime off you.” He is happily reaching for the phone to order more food as he talks.

******

About twenty minutes later you're clean as a whistle and feeling like you finally don't smell like an airplane anymore. The toiletries provided by the hotel are just as luxurious as everything else, and your feet dig into the plush rug as you pad back out into the main room in your pjs to see Dieter accepting a tray of room service from a young man in the obvious uniform of the hotel's staff. "Looks like I have perfect timing."

“You do.” He snickers and turns around with the trays. “Now we can pig out and sleep for twenty hours.”

"You don't have to work?" You grab the drinks he ordered off the tray to make balancing a little easier for him and follow him through a doorway you hadn't even noticed before - one that opens into an enormous formal dining room with seating for ten. "Holy shit, this is just...part of the room?" Who hosts dinners in a hotel room?

“Yeah.” He laughs and shakes his heads. “Apparently dinner parties are a thing?” He asks. “So if you want to have one, go for it.”

"Who would I even invite?" The two of you pull out chairs and you pop the tops on the San Pellegrino cans that were included on the tray after sitting down beside him. "So, I guess you don't have to bring me home any chocolate," you joke, thinking back to that text he had sent you early this morning.

“I guess not.” He’s not upset about that. “You can do that Lindt tour if you want.” He hums and grins as he unrolls his silverware. “And I have every intention of going to the museum the first chance I get.” He knows you will understand which one, he’s talking about.

"Do you mind if I tag along?" In no way do you expect him to want to spend every free second with you, but there are a few things that you might actually have fun doing together. The Kunstmuseum Basel being one of them.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Dieter hums as he forks up a bite of his food. “Anything you want to do. I’ll give you my schedule and If you want an exploration partner, I’ll go with you.” He hovers the fork next to his mouth. “And you can come to set anytime you want.”

"Really?" The extremely upscale sliders on your plate look amazing, but you find yourself looking at Dieter instead of just digging into your food. "You wouldn't mind me being there?" Somehow you had expected him to be more resistant to the idea of having you infringing on his time in his favourite place, but you're...pretty thrilled that he's so receptive, actually. In a way you never expected to be.

Since he found out that you wanted to spend the day with him after sleeping together, he’s been craving more time with you. This seems like a windfall and he will have to thank Libby, in his own way. “No, unless you don’t want to be there. You don’t have to. I know it’s not exactly interesting to some.”

"No, I want to." Like most people, the most insight you've ever gotten into what goes on, on a movie set are behind the scenes featurettes for movies you've seen. And for the longest time you told yourself that you didn't care. That you didn't want to know. But the fact is...now that you know him a little? You're curious to see what his work is like. "I mean what the hell do I know about being on a movie set, right? It could be fascinating. I'll save days where I want to do stuff you're not interested in for the days when you have the most demanding work, and we can do the stuff we both want to do together."

“That sounds good.” He agrees and takes a bite. “Although after we eat, I’m going to pass out and sleep until I can’t sleep anymore.”

"Definitely." Reminding yourself that you were starving just a second ago, you pick up one of your sliders and dig in, moaning unrestrainedly at the gorgeously flavourful bite - only to laugh at yourself a second later for the shamelessly enthusiastic noise.

Dieter chuckles and shifts in his seat, ignoring the pangs of lust that race through him. “At least you enjoy the food.” He jokes with a wink.

"Shut up," you mumble around another bite, laughing at yourself despite being a little embarrassed. "I'm not dainty, you knew that already."

“Oh I remember.” Dieter huffs and immediately bites his lips to stop himself from saying things that could completely offend you. Instead, he gives a shrug. “I don’t mind that at all.”

"Okay." Two more bites and the first slider is gone, giving you a second to sit back and wipe your hands on a napkin and take a sip of your drink. "I want to know what happened." Since you talked to him about it you've only dredged up a few more flashes of memories from that night - mainly the car ride back to his place from the party - and it was enough to have you excusing yourself to your room to remember in private. "You said you remember everything."

“What do you want to know?” He arches a brow as he takes another bite of his own meal. “How I suffocated myself in your pussy despite you being shy about the trim job?”

"It's not like I ever have anybody to trim it for." The protest is mumbled at best, and you shrug like it doesn't matter even though your cheeks are on fire. "I do remember you like having your hair pulled..."

“Yeah.” Dieter has zero shame in admitting that. He liked it, he liked it a lot. “You liked my reaction to it too.” He reminds you with a playful wink. “And you liked riding.”

“I do like riding…” That, at least, you already knew about yourself, and you grin a little as you take another bite of your food. “I’m almost afraid to ask if anything embarrassing happened, since everything I remember was good.”

“Nothing embarrassing that I think is embarrassing.” He shrugs with a grin. “Just a lot of orgasms and fun.” He reaches for his water and takes a sip, trying to act like he’s not remembering every single second of being inside of you that night.

“Well…good.” What else can you really say to that, except to be relieved that you didn’t fart in his face or something? Talk about mortifying. He’s the first man in a decade to actually see you naked, but that’s probably far too emotional of a fact to be brought up when you’re both jet-lagged and scarfing down your late-night snacks. Instead, you huff a small laugh and shrug, offering him a sheepish smile. “With three weeks and one bed it seems like Libby is banking on a repeat.”

“That might be my fault.” Dieter admits with a wince. He remembers the conversation with Libby. “I didn’t handle you slipping away very well. Told her to let you out of the contract because I wanted nothing to do with it and I wasn’t seeing you again.”

“I should have texted you when I didn’t hear from you.” You can admit when you’re at fault, even if it stings your pride. “This—this whole trip might actually be good for us. There’s no way to avoid each other if something upsets us. We’re kind of…forced to deal with our shit. And we said we wanted to work on our communication anyway.” The second slider is gone with a happy hum and you have to admit that this - just sitting and talking - us kind of nice.

“This might be the first meal we’ve had together without being upset.” Dieter muses. “Quick, throw the salt at me.”

“Maybe I want to set a dangerous precedent,” you grin at him, a little wider than you expected. “Not constantly fighting with my soulmate sounds really nice.”

“Unheard of.” Dieter jokes, throwing your grin back at you, admiring the way that your eyes crinkle slightly when you’re happy. “What else would we do?”

“Not a damn clue.” He looks so much more comfortable - so much more himself - when he’s relaxed and it almost surprises you that the first word that flits across your mind is handsome. He looks so much more handsome when he’s relaxed. “I guess we’ll have to figure it out.”

“I’m sure we will.” Dieter nods and tries to smother a yawn. Now that you are here, he doesn’t want to sleep, but he’s about to pass out. Needing to close his gritty eyes and unplug from the world for some hours.

“You were up early, you should tuck in.” The only reason you know that is because he texted you from the airport, but it still feels nice to have a better sort of handle on what’s going on with him. Not that you have any sort of claim as a partner, but just as a friend. Because really - it would be excruciating to find out that your soulmate wants nothing to do with you, so the least you can be is his friend. “I’m going to have my last few bites and I’ll leave the tray outside the door before I join you?” Yeah…getting into the same bed as him is going to be…well, your heart rate definitely jumped saying it.

“Yeah.” As much as he doesn’t want to turn in, he has to. “I’ll brush my teeth and then let you have the bathroom again.” He offers, standing up and sending you a tired look. “If I’m snoring, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Offering him one more smile as he trudges from the room, you dig your phone out of your pocket and shoot a quick text off to Steph as you hungrily demolish the last few bites of your delicious room service.

To Stephy: Got to the hotel to find out Libby has us sharing a suite. There is only one bed. I am living a fanfic trope. Update you in the morning.

Dieter brushes his teeth and shuffles into the bedroom, wondering what side you want to sleep on. It can be something that you discuss tomorrow. Instead, he just chooses his normal side and climbs in.

It’s only about ten minutes later that you’re crawling into bed, too, feeling self-conscious enough to stay on the edge of the other side of the bed despite freshly brushed teeth and a freshly showered self. Your awkwardness has nothing to do with cleanliness, but everything to do with the fact that you wish, however secretly, that he might actually roll over and get closer to you in the middle of the night. Whatever happens over the next three weeks, it’s sure to be an adventure.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri

YSV: @tortor-mcgee @hnt-escape @sammus-white @spanishmossmagnolia @frasmotic @quietpainter

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #Dieter Bravo x female reader #The Bubble #Soulmate AU #enemies to lovers #fake dating #Trash Can Man

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 years

Note

Just finished watching the end of Ch 6. SPOILERS for those who don't want them.

When Vil turned old and had his emotional tantrum I felt weirdly happy? Like, he's been an actor for most of his life, so he probably never really got to be a young child who could make mistakes and cry about it. He was able to let his persona drop completely.

He may have been an old man, but it certainly did seem like for the first time in a long time he got to act like a kid again.

Ooh, that’s an interesting way to look at it 🤔 but I can see where you’d get the feeling from.

From the episode 5 flashback, I really get the vibes that Vil was in a situation where he was forced to “grow up” quickly. Vil’s dad is a famous celebrity, so he’s probably very busy with his career. It is stated that Papa Schoenheit dotes on Vil and makes time for him despite his job, but realistically speaking, I don’t think he would have been around very much to actually raise Vil (cook for him, play with him, etc.). He’d probably have hired help, or Vil was a latchkey kid and had to learn how to look after himself whenever his father was absent.

Vil also puts on a tough exterior as a child. This, I would assume, is in part due to the industry he’s in. The world of entertainment is very competitive and cutthroat, and what sells Vil as a child actor is not only his talent, but his confidence and willingness to do anything to stand on the stage until the curtains close. He also has his pride as a performer on the line—so, in a way, he has to grow tough skin to keep from breaking down. When others ridicule Vil for the roles he plays, he has to act like he’s above them and their nasty jabs. He could easily defend himself if others attacked him first, but he could never risk starting anything if provoked because it could hurt his image. This is likely how it has been his entire life: rigorous treatment and training to maintain his beauty and skill, while also dealing with the lofty expectations placed on him by his fans and his work and even his haters, as well as being mindful of negative attention and press coverage.

All of these factors have essentially put Vil in circumstances in which he has to act mature. His career and public perception (and, in the case of young child Vil, his survival when he’s home alone) basically relies on it.

Episode 6 is where we actually get to see Vil caught in a moment of weakness (crying), as well as a moment of being childishly cute (when he is restored from his old age). It’s kind of ironic, seeing as Vil implied his image could never be the same as Neige’s (which is why he wanted Epel to be his “poison apple” to match Neige’s cuteness and defeat him). Vil just couldn’t afford to let himself be, not with his upbringing and experience in the industry. It is only in foregoing his pride and casting off his strong suit that Vil’s true emotions can come to the surface 😌

“In this moment, I am the fairest one of all,” Vil recites, in spite of his withered skin and hunched figure. He’s accepting himself even in old age, but he has yet to accept his own capacity to be vulnerable and “cute”. It just goes to show that the TWST boys have a lot more room to grow and to come to terms with their pasts, which I think is really fascinating to explore 👀

#Vil Schoenheit #twisted wonderland analysis #Neige Leblanche #twst character analysis #twisted wonderland character analysis #twst analysis #notes from the writing raven #spoilers #Epel Felmier

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hbyrde36 · 8 months

Text

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 6

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 ao3 link

*Eddie*

Eddie had finally lost his mind.

He was hallucinating.

He’d gone right off the deep end and into the frigid waters of lake lunacy.

He blinked hard, but the figure refused to disappear.

“Harrington? Is that really you?” Eddie blurted out in disbelief.

“Eddie, please. I need your help”

Holy. Shit.

It really was him. Steve Harrington was there, in the flesh, not 5 feet in front of him, and Eddie, well, in all honesty he could have used a minute to cope with that information, but the girl Steve was carrying looked like she was in bad shape. His freak-out would have to wait. Harrington himself wasn’t looking too great either, actually, and the baseball bat he held had some really suspicious looking stains on it. Which, what the fuck?

Eddie did his best to shake off his shock and took a tentative step towards the other boy and his companion. He wasn’t sure what to say, but this didn’t seem to be the time for stupid questions like, ‘are you okay?’, when the answer was so devastatingly obvious.

“My van is about a mile that way. I could give you a ride somewhere?” Eddie offered, awkwardly pointing back in the direction of the road.

Steve’s eyes searched his, and Eddie had to work hard not to squirm under the attention. Finally he nodded and softly said, “Thank you.”

They didn’t make it more than a few steps before it became obvious that Steve was struggling. He was breathing heavily and his arms trembled with the effort to keep hold of the mystery girl.

Eddie slowed to a stop, eyeing the two of them with concern. “I could carry her for a bit. Give you a rest?”

“I’m fine.” Steve’s response was instant, automatic.

He very much was not fine, and they both knew it. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was a pride thing or if the other boy didn’t trust him, but he had to do something before he had two unconscious people on his hands. Clearly, Steve had been through some serious shit, so Eddie wasn’t sure how hard he could push, but he was nothing if not honest.

“You look dead on your feet, man.” Eddie winced at his own poor choice of words, but pushed on. “Just let me help. I won't drop her.”

Steve’s face crumpled, and he chewed on his bottom lip. Eddie was relieved when he nodded once again, carefully transferring the girl into his waiting arms.

One look at her face confirmed Eddie’s suspicions. This was definitely the same girl from the polaroid, though she was older now and covered in streaks of dried blood. He adjusted his grip and started walking again. She was a bit heavier than he expected, but he was pretty sure he could manage to get them to the road. He’d be damned if he dropped her now after assuring Steve she’d be safe with him.

They moved through the trees in a strained silence, the weight of a million unasked questions hanging in the air between them. Eddie didn’t know where to start, or if Steve would even want to talk about it, so for now he just concentrated on getting the three of them safely to his car. He’d worry about the rest later.

Though he tried not to, Eddie’s eyes kept flicking down to the young girl’s face. He was hit again with the feeling that she looked familiar somehow, of course, he had been staring at that damn photo for days. That had to be it.

“Who is she?” Eddie hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the question slipped past his lips without permission.

“My sister.”

He knew Steve didn’t have any siblings, unless this was some long lost relative he had discovered. Eddie chanced a sideways glance at the other boy. “Didn’t know you had a sister, Harrington.”

Steve shrugged. “I do now.”

When they finally reached the pull off, Steve became visibly more tense, tightening his grip on the bat he held at his side. He kept looking up and down the road, which was, thankfully, deserted this time of day. Eddie wasn’t sure what would have happened if another car drove past them right then.

He opened the rear door of the van and gently set the girl down on a cushion he kept back there. Only after Eddie climbed into the driver’s seat did Steve end his vigil and join them in the vehicle.

The moment they were all inside with the doors locked, Steve hung his head and drew his knees to his chest, huddling in the seat. Eddie started the engine but didn’t pull onto the road yet. He took the opportunity to really look at the other boy and assess the state of him.

His hair was long. Far longer than he had ever worn it at school. With his legs drawn up, Eddie suddenly noticed that Steve and the girl were wearing almost exactly the same clothes. Nondescript gray sweatpants with a matching sweatshirt for her, a plain white t-shirt for him. The shirt had some dried blood on it that had probably come from the girl, but Steve’s arms were covered in scratches and some blood of his own. They both wore only thick socks on their feet.

Eddie’s breath stuttered. Steve had been walking through the woods, for god knew how long, without shoes, all while carrying another person. Where did they come from? How had they made it?

Steve's shoulders began to shake and Eddie realized he was crying. He didn't know what to do. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to comfort him, or if it would be better to pretend he didn't notice. Some people were weird about that stuff. Steve didn’t make him agonize over the decision for long. He looked up, meeting Eddie’s eyes with his own that were red and damp.

Eddie reached out a hand and cautiously placed it on Steve’s arm, rubbing lightly with his thumb. “What happened to you?”

Steve choked on a wet laugh. “It’s a really long story.”

“I’ve got time, unless you have somewhere you need to be?” Eddie tried for casual. A hint of tease just to ease some of the tension, but it fell a little flat. Steve’s mouth turned up at the corner for a brief second, and he thought maybe the other boy appreciated his effort anyway.

“No.” He replied after a long moment. Eddie hadn’t known it was possible for one word to contain that much sadness.

Steve turned away to stare out the windshield as he spoke on. “I..we have nowhere to go, actually. I can’t take her back to my house. They’ll find us.”

It wasn’t as surprising to hear as maybe it should have been, but the fact of the matter was, Steve had been gone for a long time, only to return bloody and battered. It wasn’t difficult to believe there was someone after him.

“Who will find you?” Eddie asked.

Steve whipped his head back around, eyes wide with something akin to panic. “I can’t…”

Eddie quickly pulled his hand back. “Shit, I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, It’s okay.” Steve rushed out, grabbing hold of the hand Eddie had just taken away. He inclined his head towards the back of the car where the girl slept. “it's just that, it's not only my story to tell.” Eddie smiled and squeezed the hand he was holding. He understood.

“I could bring you both back to the trailer park with me. No one would think to look for you there. You’d be safe.”

“Really? You would do that?”

“Yea, of course.”

What Eddie didn’t say, because it would make him sound crazy, was that he was more than happy to offer up his home since he had no intention of letting Steve out of his sight now that he’d been found. Not if he could help it.

Now that they had a destination, he put the van in gear and finally took to the road. The quiet stretched tight between them again, but this time Eddie didn't dare to be the one to break it. He wasn’t sure if he could trust himself to speak without it turning into more questions that he had no right to ask.

A few minutes into the drive, Steve spoke up. “I'll talk to her when she wakes up. If she’s okay with it, I’ll tell you everything.”

“You don’t have to.” Eddie insisted. He meant it too. Of course he wanted to know, but he had already decided that he would do anything he could for Steve whether he told him what was going on or not.

“I want to,” Steve quietly confessed, causing Eddie’s stomach to do some embarrassing acrobatics.

“I was so relieved when I realized it was you out there.” Steve continued, shaking his head at himself. “I know that probably sounds weird, it's not like we were really friends before but I just.. I remember how you were at school. How you used to look out for people who needed it, and I had a feeling that I could trust you.”

Eddie kept his eyes on the road, but it was an effort. He swallowed hard.

“You can.” Eddie breathed. “I promise, you can.”

It was a promise to Steve as much as to himself. Eddie would not fuck this up, he would not let him down.

It wasn't much longer before they arrived back at the trailer, but still Steve had fallen asleep against the window at some point. He must be exhausted. Eddie would have loved to let him rest, but if someone was really after these two, he needed to get them inside as soon as possible.

Eddie gently shook Steve's shoulder. “Hey, we’re here.”

Steve woke with a start and was instantly on alert and looking for threats. Eddie held his hands up in front of him, palms out, and waited. He saw the change in the other boy’s eyes when he remembered where he was, and who he was with. He peered over the seat, presumably to check on the girl and finally relaxed.

He looked back at Eddie, blushing slightly. “Sorry.”

Eddie smiled, waving the apology off. “Before we go inside I wanted to tell you something. I live with my uncle. He works nights, so no one else is home for now, but he’ll be back in the morning.”

Right away Steve looked nervous.

“You can trust him. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn't think it was safe.” Eddie assured him, pouring every ounce of sincerity into the words that he could muster, terrified that Steve would run away.

“Ok. I believe you.”

Eddie handed Steve his house keys before getting out. At any other time he would have been worried about being seen, but It was fully dark by then and the street light closest to the Munson trailer had been out for years. It was the first time he’d ever been grateful for the Township’s neglect. He did not need nosy neighbors wondering why he was pulling an unconscious girl out of the back of his van.

Once inside, he carried her straight through the house to his room and set her down on the bed. Steve hadn’t followed, which seemed odd with how protective he was over her, so Eddie quickly returned to the living room, once she was settled, to check on him.

Steve was standing in the middle of the room, expression unreadable as his eyes wandered slowly over the collection of mugs that lined the wall before moving on to Wayne’s hats. Their place wasn’t exactly messy, but it was definitely lived-in, as his uncle liked to call it.

Eddie cleared his throat, trying to subtly get Steve's attention. It worked, though he suspected he startled the other boy again. He’d have to be more careful about sudden noises and stuff.

The baseball bat was still held loosely in Steve’s hands, and he looked unsure of what to do with it. Eddie held out a hand and Steve wordlessly gave it over.

It was a simple gesture, but to Eddie it felt huge. Steve was in a strange place, the home of someone he barely knew and he had just given away his only form of protection. It spoke of a trust he didn’t quite feel like he’d earned yet, but Eddie vowed he would prove himself worthy of. He made sure Steve saw where he put it, propped up against a coat rack by the front door.

“Where’s my sister?”

“I put her in my room, it’s down the hall on the right if you want to see.”

“She had a lot of…” Steve trailed off, gesturing to his own face. “Do you have something I could clean her up with?”

“Sure. Go see her, I'll bring it in.”

Moments later, Eddie entered his room to find Steve sitting on the side of his bed. The sight short-circuited his brain for a second, but one glance at the girl’s bloodied face was all it took to bring him back to the present.

He set a bowl of warm water and a few clean hand towels down on the nightstand and watched as Steve worked. He took his time wetting the cloth and gently scrubbing the mess from her face. It took a little while and the water was a nice shade of pink by the time he was done, but at least she was clean.

Steve smiled down at the girl and kissed her forehead before rising from the bed.

“Would it be too much to ask for a shower?”

“Not at all. Bathroom is across the hall. There's towels in the cabinet and I'll find you some clothes and leave them outside the door.”

Eddie was glad he’d bitten the bullet and finally done some laundry the other day, so that he had something clean to offer. He found a pair of sweatpants, sans holes, and his favorite shirt. It was an old, faded, but extremely comfy iron maiden t-shirt. He wasn’t sure what the etiquette was for sharing underwear with your straight male acquaintance, but he added a pair of boxers along with socks to the pile. Steve could decide for himself if he wanted to wear them or go commando.

*Steve*

It was when he was finally alone, hidden behind a locked door, and sitting on the floor of Eddie’s shower with scalding hot water raining down on him, that Steve finally broke down. He’d let a little of it out earlier in the van, something he felt terrible about, honestly. Eddie was already doing so much for them, Steve didn’t need to subject the guy to his hysterics.

He heaved great big sobs that made his chest ache and his stomach clench. He was feeling so many things at once that it was overwhelming. He mourned the life he lost that day in the diner when Brenner found them, something he had never done at the lab, because he would die before letting that man think for even a second that he’d broken him. At the same time he felt relief that the two of them had finally escaped, even if that feeling came tinged with shame for not having managed it sooner.

He and El had been through so much in those years of confinement, and he couldn’t help but blame himself for it just a little. He felt like a failure. They were free now, but his plan had never stretched beyond the simple goal of getting out. They had no home, and he had no means to take care of Eleven. They were effectively on the run and not just from the lab. Henry, One, had found her, and Steve was absolutely certain they hadn’t seen the last of him.

The water turned cool, and he knew he was taking too long, but he had to get himself under some kind of control before facing Eddie again. He took several deep steadying breaths and stood up, quickly washing himself before finally getting out.

Steve never thought he’d be so happy to see a simple pair of black pants and a t-shirt, but the prospect of wearing something other than stiff gray sweats that were at least a size too small, was enough to pull a weak smile out of him. The clothes were soft and smelled faintly of smoke, but he didn’t mind, it was better than the chemical odor of the industrial cleaners that he was used to. They also smelled of Eddie, and that was comforting for reasons he didn’t have the capacity to think about just yet. He wrapped himself in the borrowed items, boxers and all, and bravely pushed the door open to face whatever came next.

He felt shy suddenly, shuffling around the unfamiliar house. After looking in on El one more time, he found Eddie working in the kitchen, putting together what looked like a mountain of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

“You hungry? I know I am, so I just assumed you…” Eddie trailed off when he finally looked up and saw him. He stared wide eyed, and for long enough that Steve started to feel self conscious. He must look worse than he thought. He nervously ran fingers through his hair to try and straighten it.

The movement seemed to wake Eddie up from whatever trance he’d been in and he returned to his task with his head bowed. Steve thought he might have been blushing but couldn’t imagine why.

They took the food over to the couch and together devoured the entire plate within minutes. Steve hadn’t eaten since the day before and couldn’t remember the last time he’d had peanut butter. It was honestly the best thing he’d had in years. He stopped short of telling Eddie that, afraid of giving anything away for now. Though he did thank him profusely.

“I know you want to wait and check with your sister before you talk about stuff, and I fully respect that, but, um, is there anything you can tell me about the last two years? Where you’ve been, or what you’ve been doing?”

Steve considered what would be safe and easy to share, and didn’t come up with much. “Protecting her, mostly. I’m sorry, I feel like such a dick for not explaining anything when you’re trying to help.”

“It’s okay. Does she have a name? It would be nice to have something to call her instead of, her, or the girl ”

Steve grimaced and shook his head. He couldn’t even tell him that without it raising even more questions. “I’m sorry”

Eddie raised his eyebrows, probably wondering what the big deal was about a stupid name, but he accepted the lack of an answer without complaint.

“What do people think happened to me?” Steve asked. At least that was something they could talk about.

Eddie hesitated

“You can tell me. Whatever it is, I promise you it can’t be worse than the truth.”

“The school reported you missing when you didn’t come back after spring break in ‘84. As far as I know, Hopper started an investigation but some government guys came in and took over. Honestly, man, I'm sorry, but a lot of people assume you’re dead.”

Well, that was something.

“Um, do you know anything about my parents?” Steve asked, but quickly backpedaled, realizing it was stupid. “Nevermind, sorry, I wouldn't expect you to know.”

“Well…”

“What is it?”

Eddie looked a little uncomfortable but could tell Steve was desperate for any information. “Your house is for sale. I don’t think they’ve been back to Hawkins since you, y’know. I’m really sorry.”

Steve snorted. “Don’t be. I’m not surprised. They were never around before, so there was no reason to hope anything would be different now. I think they were just waiting until I was done with High School to cut me off completely. Probably thought they got a lucky break when I disappeared.”

Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes but Steve blinked them away. He’d cried enough for today, and his parents just weren’t worth it.

Eddie touched his arm lightly, setting his skin alight with goosebumps. “Hey, if that’s true, then they are even bigger pieces of shit than I thought. Seriously, fuck them.”

He must have decided that was enough talking for now, and turned away to switch the tv on low, leaving them each to their own thoughts. Steve was grateful. His eyelids were heavy and his brain felt like mush after the long day.

From one blink to the next the tv had changed from an old rerun of The Twilight Zone, to the evening news, and Steve realized he must have dozed off.

“You should go lay down in my room if you’re tired.” Eddie said quietly. “I’m okay out here on the couch.”

To further prove his point, he reached back and tugged a fluffy quilt off the back of the sofa and wrapped it around himself. It covered him from ankle to chin. Steve smiled at the boy’s head full of dark curls sticking up through the slightly fuzzy mound of pink yarn. He felt bad for kicking the guy out of his own bed, but El was already in there anyway, so he supposed it wouldn’t really change anything if he refused. He felt Eddie's eyes on him as he got up to leave, and for some reason it made him shiver.

The room was unlike anything Steve had ever seen. He hadn’t really looked around much when he was in there before, too focused on El, but everything about the space screamed, Eddie.

The walls were covered in all manner of things. Posters, drawings, and a sheet spray painted with the words, Corroded Coffin, covered almost the entirety of one side of the room. There was even a guitar mounted up high in front of a mirror. Stacks of books and cassettes littered every available surface, save for one table by the window that housed an overflowing ashtray. Steve loved it. His own bedroom had about as much personality as a brick wall, and he much preferred Eddie’s in-your-face style.

He slid into the bed next to El, and whether it was the exhaustion or the comfort of having her so close, he was out cold within minutes.

Steve woke up sweaty and gasping for air. It didn’t happen too often, but sometimes he would have nightmares about the night he fought the dogs. Only once did he dream about the other presence in his mind, the thing Owens had removed from him with heat. In his dream the plan hadn’t worked. He had been forced to witness everything while trapped inside his own mind as his body went on a rampage through the lab, killing indiscriminately. It took him days to get over that one, it had left him with the feeling of being watched. A prickle on the back of his neck.

He rolled out of the bed, careful not to disturb Eleven. As much as he wanted her awake, he knew she needed her rest after using so much of her powers. He could wait until she got up on her own.

Something caught Steve’s eye as he crossed the room to the door. A drawing he hadn’t noticed earlier that hung over the desk. He thought it was a flower at first but as he got closer…

Steve's knees went weak and he heard a loud whooshing sound in his ears as he stared at it. It couldn’t be what it looked like. Could it?

He tore the piece of paper right off the wall and ran out to the living room, not even bothering to close the bedroom door behind him. Eddie was on the couch, still awake,or awake again, Steve wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what time it was. Either way, the other boy looked more than a little shocked to see Steve rushing up to him.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie threw the blanket off and sat up.

“What is this? Why do you have this?” Steve all but shoved the slip of paper in Eddie’s face. He knew he was being intense, could see it in the way Eddie’s eyes went wide at his tone, but he had to know if these things had gotten out of the lab. If that was the case, their problems were even worse than he thought.

“Will drew it. Will Byers? I don’t know if you would know him. Um, it’s a monster from our D&D game.” Eddie spoke slowly, carefully, like you might do with a child or someone less than stable.

“A game?” Steve pressed. His heart was still pounding but he was starting to get the feeling that maybe he was overreacting a little. It was just too big of a coincidence to let go.

“Yea, Dungeons and Dragons.”

That sounded familiar. Steve took a deep breath and tried to force himself to relax. “That’s the, uh, dice game, right? Nancy’s little brother used to play that I think.”

“He still does, Mike is part of our group too.” Eddie still looked a little on edge but at least he was no longer talking to Steve in that cautious way.

“Since when do you hang out with middle schoolers?” Steve was genuinely curious, but he was also trying very hard to act normal. It was likely too little too late to distract from the way he’d come out of the room in a panic over a picture made with crayon, but he tried. None of this game stuff explained how this kid, or Eddie for that matter, knew what the dog creatures looked like, but, one step at a time. God, he needed El.

Blessedly, Eddie took his lead and ran with it, continuing on as if they were having a normal-ish conversation. “They’re my cousin Dustin's friends, or at least that’s how it started. They’re all in high school now though.”

“Oh. Right.”

Right, two years. Steve missed graduation. Hell, he’d missed senior year.

“God, I guess I really am friends with a bunch of baby teenagers now. How will I ever recover my tarnished reputation?”

Steve laughed and it felt so good. He couldn’t believe how easy Eddie was to be around. He liked that the other boy still tried to joke with him, even in their odd circumstances. It made him feel like a person again.

“So this monster, what do you call it?”

Eddie tapped the paper. “That one’s a demodog. It’s not an official D&D monster, it’s more of a homemade thing me and the kids came up with. There’s also the demogorgon, which is a lot like the dog except it stands on two feet and is like 9 feet tall.” Eddie got more animated and excited the longer he went on, but the more Steve heard, the tighter his chest got. ”Then there’s the mind flayer, big black smoke fucker that looks like a giant spider, and most recently this really wicked dude called Vecna.”

Steve gulped. He tried to hide it behind a smile but Eddie narrowed his eyes. He definitely knew something was wrong.

“Steve?” A soft voice called from the hallway, causing both of the boys to jump in surprise.

“Hey, sweetie. How do you feel?” Steve asked, rushing to her side and crushing her against his chest in a tight hug.

“I’m ok. Where are we?”

He guided her over closer to the couch. He wasn’t sure how she would feel about strangers, so he was a little nervous. “That's Eddie, this is his house.”

“He’s Your Eddie?” She gasped, looking up at Steve with a big smile.

Previous panic forgotten for a moment, Steve felt his face heat up and he knew he must be bright red all over. He turned to Eddie and ducked his head, embarrassed. “Sorry, she just means, um, I might have mentioned you before, is all. Stories about school and stuff.”

“I’m flattered to have made the cut, Harrington.” Eddie grinned.

El finally looked at Eddie, moving closer to study his face. Steve could see the other boy stiffen and he sympathized. He remembered being under that same scrutiny once, in the woods, under the rain.

For some reason she reached out for Eddie’s hair. Steve was about to tell her to stop, but Eddie waved a hand to keep him quiet, apparently not minding. She pushed the bangs back from his face and stared into his eyes, all the while Eddie held perfectly still. He smirked a little, amused at the girl’s antics, Steve supposed.

“Are you..?” She started to ask a question but abruptly dropped Eddie’s hair in favor of grabbing his hands and turning them over. She looked from one wrist to the other, brow furrowed.

That's when it clicked for Steve. What she was doing, what she thought Eddie was.

“Honey, he’s not. It’s not possible. I don’t think…”

“No, come look.” She said.

Reluctantly, Steve peered over her shoulder, first offering Eddie a sympathetic smile in place of an apology. He just looked back and forth at them in confusion, and Steve knew they would have to start explaining some things, and soon.

“He has a scar right here.”

Steve's mouth dropped open. Sure enough, Eddie had a deep, but long healed scar in the same spot on his wrist where a number tattoo would have been, if he was indeed like El.

The front door of the trailer squeaked loudly as it opened suddenly, startling all of them and causing Steve to jolt, further damaging his already frayed nerves. On instinct, he stepped protectively in front of both El and Eddie to face the intruder.

A gruff older man stood in the doorway. He wore a trucker hat similar to those that decorated the trailer’s wall and there was a set of keys still dangling from his fingers. Oh, Eddie lived with his uncle, right.

The man blinked up at Steve, a hint of recognition in his eyes. “What’s going on here, Ed?”

Steve backed up and flopped down hard on the couch next to Eddie, willing his heart to get the memo that there was no imminent danger here.

Eddie looked from him, to El, then back up at his Uncle. “Honestly, Wayne? I have no fucking idea.”

Chapter 7

@penny00dreadful @buckleybarnes @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @goinsteddie @brbsoulnomming @the-s-is-silent @paintsplatteredandimperfect @estrellami-1 @herebedragons404 @epiclazershark @iaminmultiplefandoms @adaed5 @mentallyundone @hardboiledleggs @hotshot9 @manda-panda-monium @ellietheasexylibrarian @stxrcrossed186 @sofadofax @5ammi90 @meccaminayah @bestwifehaver

#steddie fanfic #canon is just a crazy game of d&d #sort of #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #life is a game #steve harrington/eddie munson #eddie munson and dustin henderson are cousins #steve harrington and eleven taking care of eachother #steve and el sibling supremacy #ao3 link

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