#she already has been screaming at everyone like every day for the past week and i do Not want to make that worse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunrizef1 · 18 days

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Girl back home

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x wife!reader

Warnings: cursing (I think)

Authors note: this took forever, but now I can actually work on whiv now that I’ve finished this

Summary: Everyone keeps trying to set Logan up, but no one bothers to ask if he's already got a girl (surprise! he does!)

Word Count: 4.2k (jesus)

“What about her? she’s pretty,” Alex asks as he points at the five hundredth model to walk past the Williams garage that day.

If it hadn’t been his home race, Logan might have walked away an hour ago when Alex’s pointing started but instead, he stayed, choosing to endure Alex’s unrelenting matchmaking.

“No, Alex. I’ve already said no to about 50 other girls you’ve pointed out, what makes you think she’d be different,” Logan groans, his head leaning back to rest against the wall behind them.

Alex purses his lips, a frown on his face, “Why won’t you let me get you a girlfriend?”

Logan pauses to stare at the ceiling of the garage for a second before he turns his head to face the man next to him, “I don’t need a girlfriend.”

“Yeah sure man, I’ve seen you stare quietly at a wall by yourself more times than you’d probably admit. If that doesn’t scream “I need a girlfriend” then I don’t know what does,” Alex shrugs before turning back to face away from his friend, his hand coming back up to point at a pretty-faced blonde girl making her way past the garage, even smiling when she locks eyes with Logan, “Ooh what about her? She seems to like you!”

Logan just hums in response, his eyes closing as he leaves Alex to talk to himself.

In reality, Logan truly didn’t need a girlfriend. He had something even better, a wife. Who also happened to be you. You had met when you were kids and had been in love ever since. You liked to joke that it was love at first sight but every time you said it, Logan would wonder how much of a joke it really was.

You had been there for every step in his career, through the wins and the losses, through karting to Formula racing. So when he proposed after the end of the f3 season in 2020, no one close to you was really surprised.

You got married shortly after, neither one of you wanting a big, flashy wedding. Instead, the wedding was small but still nice, just some close friends and family in attendance. Even Oscar had been there and he made sure to reference the event to everyone who wouldn’t understand when around Logan. He loved to talk about the “party” Logan had in 2020 to the other drivers who, frankly, had no idea what he meant.

When he got his move to Formula One, you were over the moon for him. You didn’t worry about long-distance. You had made it work in the past and you both had total confidence in each other to make it work. You continued your degree in engineering and he continued his career in racing. You tried to make it to races when school would let you, which wasn’t often, and he was more than happy to fly you out when he could.

Logan genuinely loved you more than anything. With that being said, this meant that he did not have the time of day for anyone trying to set him up with the Instagram model of the week who had decided to visit a garage.

But at the same time, he also didn’t feel the pressure to share your marriage with anyone. He didn’t really know any of the other drivers very well and if they wanted to know more about him, they could ask. It’s just that no one ever did.

Except, it seems, when they wanted to set him up.

“Hey, Logan!” A British voice calls out to the American, whose head shoots up at the uncommon voice.

“What’s up, mate?” The blonde asks Lando, pocketing the phone where he had just been texting you to ask about your engineering final.

Lando grins and places a hand on the American's shoulder, raising his voice to be heard above the sounds of the paddock, “I was talking to Oscar and he mentioned something about your love life and something about you being lonely, I don’t really remember what he said but anyway, I’m talking to this girl and she has this friend who I think would be perfect for you.”

Logan’s face drops at the brunette's words, a frown replacing his smile, “I’m cool Lando, thanks though.”

Lando furrows his eyebrows, disbelief written on his features, “You sure, mate? She’s sooooo fine.”

Logan just nods his head in response, backing away from the McLaren driver slowly, “Yeah I’m sure Lando, you have fun thinking about your girlfriend’s friend though.”

Lando doesn’t seem to catch the diss as he just glances up and down at Logan before shaking his head and turning on his heel to head back to his garage. Logan sighs before taking his phone back out of his pocket to see another text from you. A grin breaks out on his face as he sees your name.

Logan hadn’t talked to very many of the drivers on the grid, often feeling on the outs of a lot of conversations. So he’s even more surprised to see Charles Leclerc making his way toward him at a club. A club he had only agreed to come to so he coule be Oscar's designated driver, by the way.

“Eyyy, it’s the American!” Charles says, the alcohol clearly present in his voice. The lights are too dimmed but if they were brighter, Logan would be able to see the lipstick smudges around his white collar.

“Hey, Charles,” Logan replies, scepticism laced in his voice. The Monegasque leans closer to him, the drink in his hand sloshing around in the cup.

“I have something to tell you,” Charles slurs a bit, leaning dangerously before a pretty brunette comes up and grabs him, based on her lipstick shade compared to Charles’ shirt, she had already been more than acquaintances with him before this conversation.

Logan glances at the pair before responding dryly, “Oh no.”

Charles grins before pointing back to where he had come from, a dark-haired girl sitting at the table, “That’s Natalie.”

“Navaeh,” the brunette pipes up to correct Charles as he nods in response.

“Yeah, Nivia. Anyway, she’s a friend of mine and she’s been eyeing you all night, thought you’d want her number.”

Logan rolls his eyes at the very clearly drunk couple in front of him, increasing his headache from the pounding EDM, “What an assumption there Charles. I’m actually good though.”

“What?” Charles asks, squinting to see the blonde under the club lights.

“No thanks,” Logan smiles tightly before moving to step around the couple and probably tell Oscar that either they were both leaving or Oscar was getting an Uber, “You guys have a good night though.”

The couple is already too busy sucking face to realize he’s left.

“I just don’t understand why they keep trying to set me up, I’m perfectly happy with you,” Logan complains to you over the phone a few nights later.

You were sat in your dorm, engineering work strewn across your desk and your roommate at a party somewhere. You were trying to get as much work done as possible before Logan came to Austin for the GP so you could spend the weekend with him.

“I mean, have you told them you’re married?” You ask, trying to stifle a yawn as your hand moves to write down the equation for the problem in front of you.

Logan shakes his head, the movement almost imperceptible through the small phone screen, “Nah, but it’s just that no one’s asked you know? I’m just waiting for someone to say “Hey Logan, you got a girl back home?” Before they try and set me up with some Instagram model they know.”

You smile softly as he talks, his hands moving to mess with his blond hair periodically. He eventually looks back to the screen once he’s done ranting and is met with your smiling face filling his phone screen, “What?”

“I love you,” you say warmly, your grin practically splitting your face.

Logan blushes before laughing and shaking his head to hide the redness on his face, “I love you too. I’ll see you next week yeah?”

You look down at the now-completed homework in front of you. Homework that could’ve taken about 2 fewer hours if you weren’t on call.

“Yeah I’m done with this. I’ll turn it into my professor tomorrow and after that I am free. When do you get in?” You ask, shuffling the papers together and sliding them into your bag before moving out of your chair and flopping onto your bunk, sleep clouding your eyes.

“Uhh,” Logan pauses, glancing at his suitcase. In reality, he was supposed to get in twenty two hours and six minutes from when he hung up the call, his flight leaving in three hours and arriving in Austin after a 16 hour flight and a 2 hour layover in DFW followed by an hour long flight to Austin. He would effectively be arriving about a week before any of the other drivers. Besides maybe Daniel. But he couldn’t say any of that. He wanted to surprise you, especially now that you had no work to do. So instead he just hums, “Next week I think.”

“That’s great, babe,” you yawn, a small smile on your lips at the idea of him being back with you again, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Yeah?” Logan grins.

You hum, your eyes drifting closed slightly, “Yeah.”

Logan notices your less-than-awake state and finally decides to end the call, “Goodnight, I love you.”

You yawn again, your eyes fluttering shut, “Good morning Logan, I love you too.”

The call ends quickly after and Logan glances at the time, grinning when he sees the 8:24 am displayed on his phone screen. You’d both had to deal with the difference in time zones for so long, you probably had all the time zones memorized. Or at least you remembered enough to call out good morning instead of goodnight while he was in Qatar.

His flight touches down twenty-two hours later and the first thing he does is call you.

“Hey what's up?” It's about 10:30 in Austin and the only thing you were doing was picking up barbeque from this place on the edge of campus that your roommate had been raving about.

“Not much, just bored,” Logan replies, his eyes scanning the background of the face time call for where you could possibly be this late.

You glance down at your phone for a second to do the same, eyebrows furrowing, “Where are you? It looks dark.”

Logan glances around slightly before replying, “In a car,” he wasn't lying, he really was in a car. Just one that was ubering to your campus instead of one with his team in Qatar, “Where are you? It's like 10 pm over there.”

“Just picking up some food,” you reply, eyes looking over the moonlit sidewalk that threads through the well-kept grass that surrounds you.

“This late?”

You laugh, “I slept through dinner.”

Logan smiles before sliding forward slightly when the car stops, “Are you just going back to your dorm?”

You look around quickly, “Yeah it's like a quarter mile back though.” You tighten your grip on the bag in your hand, the plastic having started to slip. Maybe your Ugg slides hadn't been the best choice for this walk but you'd manage.

“Oh yeah I know where you are, I remember eating at that place last time I was there,” Logan pulls his suitcase out of the trunk and tips the driver, checking periodically to make sure you hadn't clocked him.

“Yeah yeah, really good stuff and the owner remembered me today, guess I've been there enough times,” You laugh, starting to move back in the direction of your dorm once again.

By the time you had stopped to readjust the bag of food and your shoes, Logan had already started to speedwalk in the direction of your dorm. As he walks he passes enough drunk college kids to fill the football stadium they had all visited so many times.

You're walking pretty slowly, enjoying the moonlight shining brightly on the campus. Your shoes definitely weren't making you any faster to be fair.

“You turn your assignment in?” Logan asks, hoping you don't notice his eyes darting around the campus in search of you.

You nod, reaching a hand up to rub at your sleepy eyes, “Yeah, he even gave me extra credit for turning it in so early.”

Logan nods absentmindedly and you raise an eyebrow as you watch him do it before his eyes lock on something and he abruptly ends the call, “I've got to go, love you!”

You stand staring at your phone with a confused look on your face for a moment, words dying on the tip of your tongue. Weird.

You shake your head before moving to walk again, Logan's weird actions at the forefront of your mind.

Before you can even take a step, someone calls out your name and you turn quickly to see Logan standing there with the biggest grin on his face.

You gasp and wrap him in a bone-crushing hug warmth spreading through you from his arms. You move to spread kisses all across his face and for a few minutes, you both just stand there, not having seen each other in a few months and taking the time to readjust.

“I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulder, unexpected tears starting to spring from your eyes.

He just sets you down before wrapping a hand around the side of your face, “I missed you too.”

You bring a sweater-clad hand up to wipe away a tear before grabbing the food in one hand and grabbing his hand in the other, starting to lead him back to your dorm.

He grabs his suitcase as you start moving, “Is your roommate here?”

“No, you know how she is. She'll be with her new boyfriend for a few weeks so we're fine,” you wave away his question as you walk toward the building a few hundred feet away.

He smiles in response, “Hope you got enough food for two.”

You just laugh joyously.

A week and a half later, you’re stood in the hotel room Logan’s team had provided him, the room much nicer than your cramped dorm room. You had spent the last 12 days exploring Austin with your husband, making up for the time spent away from each other.

You had accidentally slept through Logan’s departure for the morning, waking up to a text explaining that, with your busy class schedule, he wanted you to get as many days of sleeping in as possible but he had gotten you breakfast and it was currently sitting in the kitchen.

You smiled at the text, appreciating Logan’s thoughtfulness. In the kitchen was a coffee from your favourite coffee shop as well as a McGriddle from McDonalds, which, no doubt, hurt Logan to order considering he wasn’t allowed to eat them.

You quickly ate the food, texting Logan to thank him. He texts back surprisingly quickly, considering he was supposed to be in a meeting.

He filled you in on how his morning had gone before asking when you’d get to the paddock for the race. You replied that you’d be there soon, quickly sliding on a light jacket over your tank top and jean shorts, preparing for the Austin heat.

Considering you had never been in the COTA paddock before, you would rather be in any situation other than your current one. There were about three hours until the race and you had no idea where the Williams garage was. You had gotten in just fine but, for some reason, you couldn’t find the blue of the Williams employees anywhere.

Logan wasn’t answering his phone, which you expected considering he had already been reprimanded for being on his phone during a meeting once this morning. Now you were left by yourself, trying to navigate the busy paddock.

You were somehow in a sea of orange, eyebrows furrowed. You turn in a quick circle, eyes setting on a curly-haired man in an orange polo who you take a few quick steps towards, hoping he can help you with directions.

“Excuse me,” you call out to the man who turns around swiftly, eyes pulling across your figure before landing on your face.

“How can I help you, love?” The man replies, a British accent laced through his voice and a sharp grin on his rosy lips.

You glance around slightly, leaning away from the man’s hungry gaze, “Do you know where the Williams garage is?”

He nods his head but keeps his eyes locked on your face, his smirk unfaltering, “Yeah, yeah, it’s just down that way.”

He points to nowhere in particular, moving to lean against the wall you’re standing near, “What’s your name, darling?”

You have to hide the smirk that tries to escape you at the fact that this man clearly has no idea you were married and also clearly thought you’d be an easy girl to flirt with considering his unwavering confidence.

You tell him your name and a grin breaks out on his face, “Pretty name, I’m Lando.”

Ah, so this was Lando. You had only ever seen him with his helmet on and from what you heard from Logan, his current behaviour made perfect sense. Logan hadn’t talked a lot about the Brit but he had mentioned him a few times considering he was Oscars teammate.

You hum, glancing around amusedly around the garage. You and Lando talk for a few more moments before a shorter figure clasps a hand on his shoulder. You lock eyes with the newcomer, grinning when you see a familiar boy standing behind Lando.

"Hey Osc," You smile at the Aussie. Oscar glances sideways at Lando, eyes shifting across his face before they turn to you. You just smile sweetly at the man who reciprocates the grin back at you.

"Hey," Lando glances confusedly between the two of you at Oscar's response. When Lando's confusion goes on a bit too long, Oscar turns and swings an arm around your shoulder, effectively moving the both of you away from the still-confused McLaren driver.

"I assume you're looking for Williams, then?" Oscar asks, running his free hand through his hair which had already begun to stick to his forehead from the Austin heat.

You hum in affirmation, sliding your sunglasses down your nose as the two of you step into the sun to make your way to your husband's garage.

Oscar makes conversation as he pulls you along, talking to you about how his season had gone and also asking a lot of questions about your engineering classes.

“I’d do a video for you, shock all your classmates,” Oscar says when you tell him you had to do a presentation explaining the engineering behind a piece of machinery and you had chosen a Formula 1 car.

You laugh, shaking your head as you do, “Yeah? I'd take you up on that, but I have a driver who'd be much easier to get a video from.”

Oscar snorts, smiling as you reach the Williams garage, “Lando?”

You roll your eyes as the name leaves his lips, hitting the back of his head with the small bag in your hands, “Don't get me started on Lando. You know he tried to set Logan up with one of his friends?”

Oscar furrows his eyebrows, “What?”

“Yeah, Lando said you told him Logan’s love life was lonely or something like that,” You reply, glancing around passively in search of your husband.

Oscar somehow manages to furrow his eyebrows even deeper, mouth opening and closing in disbelief, “That’s not what I said at all.”

“Tell him that.”

You both walk into the garage after that, you move to make conversation with Benny who’s sat to the side, surprise crossing his face as he sees you.

Oscar, though, spots Logan and makes his way to him quickly. He clasps a hand on the blonde's back who turns to face him with a grin, “What’s up Osc?”

“Lando was flirting with your wife,” Oscar states flatly, trying to push down the grin on his face.

Logan blinks a few times in an attempt to understand what the Aussie just said, “What- why?”

“Don’t think he knew she was your wife, mate.”

Logan rolls his eyes before turning around slightly to resume his conversation with his engineer. He stops mid-turn and swings back around to Oscar quickly, eyes wide, “My wife’s here?”

Oscar laughs at the American's face, stepping out of his line of sight so he can see you conversing with Benny.

Logan grins, sliding past the other boy to step toward you as quick as he can, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Oscar can’t hear what you two say to each other but he can see the love painting your faces as Logan plants a kiss on the top of your head. Benny smiles at the two of you, walking away to let you two talk.

As Oscar leaves the Williams garage, he briefly debates telling Lando you were married, especially to Logan, but he eventually decides not to. He’d figure it out eventually. Also might help to have him learn the hard way.

You sat in the garage for the entire race. But when Logan ends the race in eight, you’re jumping up happily to follow the Williams employee guiding you to where he’ll be.

The moment he’s done being weighed, he runs over to you, pulling his helmet off and unzipping his suit to his hips.

He grasps the side of your face, pulling you to him as he kisses you softly. He pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against yours, lifting a hand to grab the one you have against the side of his face, fingers brushing over your wedding ring.

“Thank you for being here. I love you.”

You can’t help the lovely laugh that escapes you, throwing your head back a bit to escape the heat rising on your cheeks, “I love you too, dork. I’m so proud of you.”

He smiles before leaning to catch you in another kiss.

Lando had finished the race in 4th. Not bad considering who had finished in front of him. He’d already talked to his team so he was now just roaming around, looking for someone to talk to.

He locks eyes on you and takes a few steps toward you before someone comes running past him. He looks over to see Logan grasping your face in his hands before pulling you down into a kiss.

He can’t help but stand in shock for a few moments although he can sense a couple people walking up next to him. He glances beside him to see Charles and Alex, both also staring at Logan in disbelief.

“What the hell?” Lando asks, to no one in particular. Luckily, or unfortunately, for him, someone has an answer.

“Are you lot staring at Logan and his wife?” Lando doesn’t look over to catch the amused look on Oscar’s face as he asks the question. But Alex does, and he furrows his eyebrows at the younger man.

“Sorry?” Alex asks the Aussie who just smiles and turns back to the couple, still smiling in each other's embrace.

Charles is the first one to notice anything and he smacks the other two on the head when he does, “They’re both wearing wedding rings.”

Alex blinks for a second, caught in the strange reality that he hadn’t noticed his teammate wearing a wedding ring the whole season. He pulls out his phone to go through old photos and low-and-behold, Logan’s wearing a ring in every single one.

“Jesus Christ,” Lando mumbles, running a hand through his damp curls, “I flirted with her.”

“Yeah,” Oscar nods, hands on his hips, “I probably wouldn’t talk to Logan for a while if I were you. Unless you want to find out how they do it in Florida.”

Lando gulps at the boy's words, of course, having no idea how they “do it” in Florida but only assuming he’d end up with a black eye. Oscar has to stifle a laugh, knowing Logan would most likely just laugh it off if Lando genuinely apologized. Not that Lando would.

Oscar's eyes drift across the trio of confused drivers, most likely all going through their memories of the times they had tried to set Logan up.

“You told me he was lonely,” Lando finally whines out, turning back to Oscar who shakes his head.

“I told you he was lonely because his girlfriend couldn’t make it to any of the races. If you would listen, you would’ve heard that part.”

Lando has no defence to that and turns his head back again to watch as Logan laughs at something you said, fingers intertwined together.

When the news spread across the paddock the next day, Logan received a lot of incredulous texts from drivers and employees alike, all shocked that he was in a relationship, let alone married.

Logan didn’t read any of them, he was too busy hanging out with you.

Except, of course, the message from Oscar that included three specific drivers all with their eyes wide as they stared at him and you.

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Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau #logan sargeant x fem!reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant x reader

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watchmegetobsessed · 5 months

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MISTLETOE

A/N: oh my god??? im actually posting something??? wow!!! okay joke aside lol its been ages since i last poste anything and im not saying im back, but i've been trying to write here and there so hopefully i will be back soon. until then, here is this little something i manage to finish last month!

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: Everyone knows Harry is crushing on Y/N, but he hasn't made any major moves. Maybe tonight, when they find themselves under the mistletoe...

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“So Styles, are you gonna man up and ask her out finally, or be a baby?” Niall laughs, bumping his shoulder against Harry’s as they are approaching the pub they spend almost every Friday night at.

“Shut up,” he groans, but it’s impossible to miss the blush on his cheeks. Niall didn’t even drop a name, but they both knew who he was talking about.

It’s kind of an open secret that Harry has been very into Y/N. Well, all the boys know at least and they very much enjoy teasing him about it. Or maybe not about the crush, but about how long he’s been into her and he still hasn’t made any major moves. The past couple of weeks it’s been even more intense, because it seems like Y/N has been very much open towards Harry and his interest in her, but he’s been clearly waiting for him to make a move.

As the boys arrive at the pub it’s just as buzzing as always even despite the painfully cold weather that’s been keeping everyone on campus wrapped up in their warmest clothes. A few days ago it was even snowing for a bit, though there’s nothing left from the whiteness by now.

Harry sighs happily as the warmth of the crowd inside hugs him in an instant. The bunch that’s already there, including Y/N, is sitting in the back at a table they often sit by, it’s kind of their spot at this point.

He spots her in an instant and his cheeks warm up, but this time it’s not because of the temperature inside the pub. He saw her just the other day at lunch, but he can always feel his heart skipping a beat as if she was coming back from a months long trip.

“You’re being obvious,” Niall bumps his shoulder against his, grinning at his friend, but Harry just rolls his eyes again as they make their way over to the table.

With only two weeks until winter break the place is decorated, there are garlands running along the walls and pipes, ornaments hanging from the corners of the framed photos, there’s a tiny christmas tree on top of the bar and if you’re not paying attention you can end up standing underneath a mistletoe here and there as well.

“Hey! Thought you guys weren’t even gonna make it!” Jackie exclaims as she stands from the table, hugging the boys one by one. She is practically the person who brought the group together, everyone in the gang either had a lecture together with her, went to practice with her or shared a room with her. The latter is how Y/N got to meet the boys, including Harry. Though the two girls are not roommates anymore, they are still very close.

Just as Harry wraps his arms around Jackie his eyes meet Y/N’s over her shoulder and his ming blanks for a moment. With her shy smile, simple yet flattering outfit and vibrant aura she is definitely the one who steals the show, at least in Harry’s mind.

“Hi,” he breathes out when they are finally facing each other and she gifts him with the brightest smile as she lifts her arms to wrap them around his neck.

“Hi,” she giggles, her front pressing against his and he holds her just a bit tighter and longer than anyone else. Which she seemingly doesn’t mind.

Of course they end up sitting next to each other. It’s no surprise to anyone. Niall is sitting across Harry and every time Harry looks his way he gives him a nudging, teasing look that screams “come on, make a move” which Harry tries to ignore as much as possible, though Niall tends to be a bit much at times.

“What are your plans for the break?” Y/N asks him, the two of them have kind of tuned out of the conversation that’s happening around the table.

“Just going home, spending time with my family. My mum is very excited,” he chuckles softly. “What about you?”

“Pretty much the same,” she smiles. “I’m pretty sure my mum has already started cooking.”

They talk about family traditions, gifting and funny stories from past holidays, completely forgetting about the rest of the group for a while. When their glasses empty out they head over to the bar for a refill, sticking to each other’s side still.

When Y/N tries to pay for her drink Harry steps in, earning a knowing look from the bartender.

“What a gentleman,” he murmurs under his breath with a smirk, pushing the two beers towards them. Harry’s ears turn red, while Y/N just nods in agreement.

A guy hurries past them, pushing Y/N slightly against Harry whose hand moves to her waist out of instinct to steady her. The moment gets lost in the crowd to everyone else, but not to them. Harry’s whole body flames, the closeness of her feels exciting and calming at the same time and he doesn’t know, but she shares the same feeling.

“You alright?” he manages to ask her, their faces way closer than ever before. She peeks up at him with a short nod.

“Yeah, thanks.”

It feels like a moment that would be perfect to finally make a move. Harry knows and as he is looking at her he also knows that she wouldn’t reject him, yet he still can’t get himself to take that step and cross the line he’s been dancing on for so long.

The seconds pass by and the moment fades as well, disappointment bubbling in her gut as she moves back from him, his hand falling off her waist and he is already regretting being such a coward.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself as Y/N starts to move ahead of him, back to the table and he follows her feeling like the biggest loser ever.

Why is he so afraid of making a move? She’s all he’s been thinking about, they get along so well and everyone’s been telling him she wants him too. But still, that awful voice in the back of his head keeps reminding him there’s a chance she rejects him and everything would be ruined after that.

Defeated, they join the rest of the table again and they both can feel a wall sitting right between them. Harry keeps replaying the moment in his head, he thinks of everything he could have done not to mess up his chance, wishing he could go back in time and man up finally.

Soon enough the group moves to the darts boards as Niall and Liam start a match, the rest enjoying the show because Niall is known to be quite competitive in any and all sports.

Harry is standing by Y/N again, but there’s tension between them obviously and his mind is racing to find a way to ease the situation. Should he ask her to talk? Pretend like nothing happened? Or what if he just swung an arm around her right now? What if–

“Oh! You two!” Niall snaps him out of his thoughts, pointing at him and Y/N. “You’re standing under the mistletoe!”

They look up at the same time, checking that he did not lie, there really is a mistletoe hanging above them. Their gazes meet and the moment is back. Y/N is looking at him with hope tinkering in her eyes and Harry knows he can’t mess it up this time, but he needs just a few seconds to build up the courage, this is a big step and he…

He is taking too long. He sees the moment when Y/N is letting go and panic sets in, screaming at him to do something and then… he finally does. Just when Y/N turns her face in defeat he gently cups her cheek, turning it back and she sucks on her breath before he finally presses his lips to hers.

A lot happens around them, there’s whistling and clapping and Niall shouts something but it all tunes out to Harry, she is all he can sense. Her arms are quick to snake around his neck and his hands find their way to her waist, pulling her tight into his embrace, hoping he never has to let go of her.

All his fantasies about what kissing her would feel like vanish and he swears it’s all he has ever known, the touch of her soft lips, the way her tongue swirls against his, the warmth of her body pressed against his.

Their mistletoe kiss stretches long and neither of them really wants to end it, but reality pushes its way back into their bubble and the noise pops it. Pulling apart they stare at each other for a while before Y/N’s lips slowly break into a smile that Harry feels like wants to own forever. He can’t bear the thought of anyone else being the reason she smiles this way.

“Harry Styles finally grew some balls!” Niall shouts, completely stomping over the moment they just shared as they turn back to face their friends, arms still around each other.

“A Christmas miracle!” Jackie joins in on the teasing.

“Okay, okay! I get it!” Harry groans, not quite enjoying being in the center of attention.

Y/N’s arms have moved to circle around his abdomen and she gently squeezes him, grabbing his attention. The moment he looks at her smiling face he forgets about everything that’s making him uncomfortable.

Leaning down he presses a short, lingering kiss to her lips, replacing every word he ever wanted to tell her and she understands it all, happy to be finally speaking the same language.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

WIBTA if I broke up with my girlfriend for not taking her meds?

My (24M) girlfriend (28F) has bipolar and BPD. We've been together coming up on 3 years now. For the last half a year we were together it was pretty rough and turbulent, she was unmedicated and was having suicidal breakdowns almost every day, ended up in hospital several times, threatened and got into physical altercations with other girls who spoke to me or she thought were flirting with me, and I was spending almost every single day of my life having to take hours to talk her down from suicide or self-harm. It was emotionally exhausting and as someone who's also had suicide attempts in the past it was also incredibly triggering and damaging to my own mental health.

For additional context as to why I feel the way I do, my last girlfriend also had diagnosed BPD and NPD and when she stopped taking her medication she became fully abusive both physically and verbally and it took me a year of being absolutely beaten down to finally snap and leave her.

(Obvious note: I'm not saying everyone with bipolar, BPD, or NPD is abusive or that these illnesses inherently make you abusive. They were an abuser who just happened to have those things, and that played into how they acted and thought/felt.)

Current girlfriend eventually got medication and has been doing much better for most of the time since then. When she's on her meds she's a wonderful and generally pretty healthy partner - she's supportive, understanding of my boundaries, checks in with me, she's a year clean from self-harm, hasn't displayed any kind of self-destructive behaviour. She's gotten a job and managed to hold it down (got fired from several jobs in the past because of her daily meltdowns meaning she wasn't attending work), she's started exercising and going to the gym, she's picked up new hobbies, made new friends, she's just been doing great in general.

For about the past month though, she started going days without taking her medication and when I reminded her she would say she didn't want to, that she hated taking it, that she doesn't like the way it makes her feel etc. This is something my last girlfriend said too, and I know it's really common for people with BPD (and maybe bipolar too?) to stop taking their medication because they feel emotionally flat in comparison to how they feel off of the meds. I pretty much said that I couldn't handle going back to how she acts when she's off of the medication again and that if she was going to stop taking them then I didn't think our relationship would last through that kind of period again because last time it completely destroyed my mental health, my sleep, my life and several of my relationships due to how much energy and time I was having to put into her vs. myself and everything else. I suggested asking her doctor/psychiatrist/etc. for another dosage change or meds switch again to see if that would work better (though up until recently they have seemed to be working great so I'm not sure how good of an idea switching it up again would be).

She agreed at the time but I was kind of concerned about whether she'd been keeping up with it or not because over the last few weeks I've already noticed things devolving again - her screaming at me out of nowhere and having mood swings, intense jealousy and possessiveness, impulsive behaviour, even a couple of breakdowns again and having to talk her out of self-harm for the first time in over a year. True enough, today I found out she's been pretending to take her medication and throwing them out. When I confronted her about it she admitted she hasn't taken her medication for weeks.

I pretty much withdrew after that and didn't say anything at that moment but after a while she asked me why I was being so quiet and I basically repeated what I'd said to her in the last conversation, that I was honestly rethinking whether or not the relationship would work because I can't handle that kind of emotional exhaustion and constant sacrifice all over again. I don't mind some emotional support and some labour of love in a relationship because of course I'm going to need to look out for her mental health and reassure and comfort sometimes, that's the reality of loving someone who struggles, but I can't do it 24/7 again. I can't once again put talking her down for hours every day and weathering screaming and violent lashing out all the time at the expense of even my own basic needs and my own mental health struggles (for example my c-PTSD from my last relationship).

When I said that she got very very upset and basically said I was forcing her to choose between me and freedom or being able to live a normal/unmedicated life (which I mean, I guess I can't argue with because in a way I am making her choose between me and stopping her meds), and that I couldn't control her like that. I told her I wasn't doing it to control her and that if she's really determined to go off of them she could, but that I would have to make my own personal choice to walk away as a result of it for my own sake.

She said she'd think about it but ever since that conversation I've been going back and forth in my head on how much of a dick move it would be to flat out just do a black-and-white "Either you stay on your meds and regulate your behaviour or I leave"

TL;DR Girlfriend wants to go off of her medication, but when she's off her meds she has almost daily suicidal breakdowns and lashes out at me physically and verbally. WIBTA if I broke up with her if she goes ahead with stopping?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

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foliosriot · 6 months

Text

Scream

pairing: ghostface!noah sebastian x reader

warnings: talk of death and murder. brief knife-play. vaginal fingering. p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it, my friends). pre-kink. fear-play i guess. let me know if i missed anything else! 18+ only MDNI or i’ll block you.

a/n: (that one tiktok sound like-) “he was the best guy around” “what about the people he murdered?” “what murdahhhh”

tags: @starsomens @fvckmeorchokeme @cncohshit @concretenoah + everyone else who didn’t know they needed ghostface!noah in their lives ;)

masterlist

You will admit: the recent string of murders have had your guts twisted with fear and anxiety. Because what if it’s someone you know next? What if it’s one of your friends? What if it’s you?

It has been terrifying just trying to exist the past week and a half. Three people were already dead, and who knows when the next person would be found mutilated? The last one was just down the street from you, for fuck’s sake! What’s stopping that masked psycho from claiming every other life — including yours — on your street?

Nothing, you’re sure. Serial killers are hardly ever satisfied. And this one is absolutely fucking insatiable.

However, right now, it’s a little hard to think about a psychotic killer with your boyfriend looking the way he does. He’s standing in your little kitchen, a mug of tea in one hand, the other tucked into the pocket of his sweatpants.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea if you stay over, Noah,” you finally manage to say. Noah had asked if he could stay over for the night what felt like an eternity ago. You had struggled to comprehend what he had said, and were only able to respond when your best friend and roommate, Olivia, had walked up next to you.

“Why not?” Noah asks, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion.

“There’s a murderer on the loose, remember, dickhead?” Olivia snaps at him. “I would rather not come back to find my best friend all dead and bloody, then adding you into the mix just to make it worse.”

Olivia had a family reunion she had to go to, something that had been planned in advance long before any of the murders had taken place. She wasn’t able to get out of it, nor was she able to convince her parents to let you tag along, even though they love you like you were their own. She was heading to the airport later tonight and coming back in two days.

You watch Noah shoot a glare at Olivia as he says, “Yeah, I’m aware there’s a murderer on the loose. But I, also, would rather not come back here to see my girlfriend dead.”

As Olivia is clearly gearing up to launch herself into a heated debacle with Noah, you stop her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Guys, I’ll be fine,” you assure them, hoping they can’t hear the waver in your voice. “After I take Olivia to the airport I’ll lock the doors and windows, turn off all the lights, then sleep with my dad’s old baseball bat next to my bed. Besides, Noah has a label meeting early tomorrow morning, so he should just head home to get some sleep for once.”

Neither of them look particularly convinced. But the mention of the metal bat seems to be enough for their tense limbs to relax.

This is the exact reason your dad gave you his bat when you first moved out, anyways. He wanted you to be safe and to protect yourself in case of an emergency. And this seems to be an emergency worthy of the beloved metal bat.

Olivia sighs dramatically from beside you. “Fine. The bat is better than nothing.” She returns Noah’s glare. “You better be gone by the time we leave for the airport in an hour.”

Noah clenches his jaw. “Got it,” he says.

With an annoyed grumble, Olivia turns on her heel and stomps towards her bedroom. Your boyfriend and your best friend have never really gotten along, simply because they both want what’s best for you and they both tend to believe they know exactly what that is. They butt heads a lot when it comes to you. Thankfully, they know they can’t have you without the other, so it’s become a resigned acceptance between them, however uncomfortable they may be about it.

You are finally able to relax your shoulders after you hear Olivia shut her door with a loud thud. Olivia is very overprotective of you and would just have you attached at the hip if she could. But sometimes her worry is suffocating. Like now. So you know she just needs a few minutes to herself before she gets on her flight.

“Did you have to be such an asshole?” you say to Noah.

“How was I being an asshole?” Noah fires back as he sets his mug down by the sink.

“You never seem to know when to stop antagonizing Olivia.”

“Well, excuse me for being worried about your safety. She’s not the only one who gets a say in this shit.”

“And you do?” you scoff, resting your hands on your hips. “So would you be okay with me unlocking every door and opening every window? Turn on each light so I’m just a fucking beacon for the murderer to come and get me next?”

Noah narrows his eyes as he stares at you. You’re now beginning to forget any thought of a psycho killer, and instead thinking of letting Noah stay tonight anyways. Let him keep you safe while also letting him do whatever he wants to you. The idea is very enticing.

“But if you don’t want that to happen, just stay the night, ‘cause I know you want to,” you encourage Noah, a small smirk making its way onto your face. “You’ll still be there for the label meeting. Olivia doesn’t have to know. Come over and keep me safe.”

Silence falls around you. Noah just continues to look at you with a dark gleam in his eyes, and you can feel a white hot knot beginning to coil down in the depths of your stomach. You shift slightly under his gaze.

“You’re being a brat.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you spit at him immediately, knowing with 100% certainty that he is going to make you pay for that comment.

“I will if you stop being a fucking brat,” Noah counters sharply. “Unless you want to keep being one, and end up being punished for it.”

You remain where you’re standing. You have zero intentions on obeying Noah, nor do you plan on dropping the bratty act. Noah loves it when you’re being a bratty bitch and defying his orders, even if he doesn’t outwardly say it. You know what it does to him, so why stop?

“Stay tonight.”

Noah doesn’t say anything. His eyes remain fixed on you, and you can feel the searing sensation of his irises roving over every inch of your body. You shift once more, hoping he doesn’t catch the movement, but you know he does.

“Come here.”

His tone is almost casual. It catches you slightly off-guard that he appears to be mildly bored, when he would normally be demanding you to approach. But you’re feeling defiant, because what is he gonna do if he doesn’t get dominant with you?

“No, I’m okay,” you say with a sickly sweet smile. “I’m not feeling very passive at the moment. Thank you, though.”

That earns you a glare. You can see the way Noah takes a grounding deep breath as his gaze darkens even more. You watch him cross his tattooed arms over his chest as he settles his weight back against the kitchen counter. He angles his head downwards, his eyes still trained on you.

God, is he trying to scare you? Because if that’s the case, he needs to rethink his fear tactics.

“I’m not afraid of you, Noah,” you practically scoff at him.

“Have I ever given you reason to be afraid of me?” he asks lowly. The tenor of his voice hums in your ears.

“No.”

Noah doesn’t say anything in response. He just continues staring at you intently, his dark gaze fixed on you wholly. You aren’t able to detect any emotion in his eyes or facial features. If you couldn’t see the subtle rise and fall of his chest you’d think he were a statue — a man carved from marble with numerous, intricate paintings spanning across the beautiful stone.

As the silence drags on you begin to grow uncomfortable. Noah staring at you isn’t what’s causing you discomfort; no, it’s the anticipation and sense of the unknown he’s letting fall over you. You roll your bottom lip into your mouth and begin chewing on the skin.

But then the corner of his mouth twitches upward. The action is sly and riddled with intention.

“Then I won’t start now,” he finally says. “Unless you want me to.”

His word choice is deliberate, each one laced with a level of teasing you don’t think you have ever heard come out of Noah’s mouth. He knows what he’s doing. And he knows it is finally getting to you in the way he had initially wanted.

“So what’s it gonna be?” Noah asks. His voice is firmer as he speaks. “You gonna come over here like a good girl … or will I be giving you a reason to be afraid of me? Either way it’ll be worth it, I’m sure. But hey, your choice, princess.”

Now, there is the commanding voice you had been expecting from the start. And your heart is pumping uncontrollably now. The pulse buried beneath the surface of your neck is throbbing and vibrating, making the blood roar loudly in your ears.

He’s giving you an obvious choice: admit you were being a brat and surrender. Or, run like your life depends on it. Because it might at some point, in a manner of speaking, you realize.

“Oh, but I don’t wanna scare you too bad,” Noah continues nonchalantly, like he’s talking about the weather or something. “Especially with that psycho killer on the loose and everything, y’know.”

You’re gonna kill him. He’s being a complete ass but being so unreasonably cool and collected about it. He knows he’s getting under your skin, burrowing further beneath your veins and tendons. It has you growing enraged and annoyed with his antics, despite that searing hot coil deep in your belly.

When Noah casually pushes away from the counter, you stagger back a few steps. His grin slowly grows as he makes his way in your direction. Your feet seem to be glued to the floor as Noah is now towering over you.

“You’re gonna pay for that, by the way,” he murmurs. He brings his hand up to your face, and grips your chin between his fingers. “But not tonight. You said it yourself, princess: I have a label meeting early in the morning.”

Noah uses his grip on your chin to tug your face towards his. Your lips meet in the middle, and Noah already has his tongue in your mouth before you can process what’s happening. And you have half a brain to kiss him back, but he’s pulled away by the time you manage to catch up. You can’t control the whine that bubbles up from your throat.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Noah says with a grin. “I love you.”

Then he’s stepping out of your space and leaving through the front door.

He leaves you breathing heavily. You nearly sprint outside and stop Noah from leaving when you hear someone walking up behind you.

“Oh, good. He’s gone.” Olivia’s voice nearly startles you. “I’ve got my stuff ready so let’s just go now. I don’t wanna get stuck in traffic.”

You nod in acknowledgement, but your brain feels fried. Your entire nervous system just got short circuited because Noah thought it would be fun to mess with you. He knows you want him to stay over while Olivia’s gone. And, you know he wants to stay over. So why did he just blow you off like that?

You don’t give yourself time to think it over before you’re following Olivia outside. You let Olivia drown you in conversation on the drive to the airport. She doesn’t appear to notice your weird behavior, or, if she has noticed, she doesn’t mention it.

But then she’s getting out of the car with her bags and you’re hugging her and you watch as she walks inside the airport and leaves you behind.

You feel like screaming.

The drive home feels like a blur. You wish you would be arriving home to see Noah waiting for you, but the house is empty. Annoyance strikes your intestines as you do what you promised initially: lock the doors, close the windows, turn off all the lights, put baseball bat at bedside.

It still feels wrong somehow. You want Noah with you, even though he has that meeting very early in the morning. In order to remedy his absence you tug on one of his sweatshirts before climbing into bed.

The next day drags on. Olivia had texted you when her flight landed and when she was reunited with her family. Noah had sent a good morning text and nothing else. You were growing increasingly angry as the hours ticked by.

You were off work today, so you had the entire day to do what you want. But your brain was vibrating with anxiety and had you stuck on the couch. You were able to get through an entire season of your favorite show, though! It still didn’t feel right.

The sun had long since fallen beyond the horizon by the time you’re rummaging through the kitchen to find something to eat for dinner. You settle on making some mac ‘n cheese, and get to work.

You’re pouring the small pot of hot noodles and water into the colander that sits in the sink when the phone rings. Another thing your dad had insisted on when you moved out: a fucking landline phone. You thought it was ridiculous, but you had humored him anyways by getting one.

With the noodles in the colander and the hot metal pot set aside you reach for the phone. You press answer and stick it between your ear and shoulder as you continue making your dinner.

“Hello?”

“Can I help you?”

“Who are you?”

“I dunno, who are you trying to reach?”

“I’m not sure.”

“That’s okay. Must be wrong number. Don’t worry — it happens.”

You’re quick to transfer the phone back in to your hand and end the call. Dialing the wrong number happens all the time, so the oddity of it doesn’t irk you.

Not until you have the mac ‘n cheese all ready a couple minutes later and the landline rings once more. You furrow your eyebrows as you go to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must have dialed the wrong number again.”

It’s that same voice. There’s a familiarity to it you can’t quite put your finger on.

“It’s alright. I’ll let you go so you can try again. Third time’s the charm, right?”

You’re about to put the phone down when the person on the other end stops you, saying, “Wait! Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?”

“Why do you wanna know my name?”

“Just in case I accidentally call you again, of course.”

“Well, I’m confident you won’t. You’ve got this.”

“In the meantime, as I’m trying to remember the correct number, let’s play a game.”

You roll your eyes. “A game? Why?”

“‘Cause it’s fun,” the person says simply. “Plus, I think we’re friends now, so it’s only fair, isn’t it?”

“I guess…”

“Good. Answer a series of questions correctly and you win. Answer incorrectly, and I win.”

“What does the winner get?”

“Whatever they want.”

You consider this for a moment. Because what’s the harm in answering some meaningless questions from a stranger? But you find yourself anxiously rethinking your decision even as you agree.

“Good. I’ll give you a couple warm-up questions. Starting with: do you have a boyfriend?”

“I do.”

“Hm. Pity. What’s he like?”

“First you wanna know about me, and now my boyfriend?” You’re growing more and more irritated with every passing second you are on the phone with this person. “You planning on stealing him from me?”

“No, of course not. Just tell me about him.”

“Oh, my god. I’m hanging up now—“

“Hang up and it’ll be the last thing you do.”

The sheer aggression and violence that ripple through this stranger’s voice forces you to stop. The phone begins to gently rattle against your ear and you can’t suppress the shaking that overcomes your body. Panic is now flowing through your veins as you stand in your kitchen in silence.

“Good girl. Now, where were we? Right: tell me about your boyfriend.”

“Um, he… He has tattoos, a-and he’s really tall. Uh, he— He’s in a famous metal band, and—“

“Yeah? What band?”

“B-Bad Omens.”

“Oh, I know them. Don’t they sing that song Just Pretend?”

You nod, even though you know they can’t see you. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, that’s them,” you murmur.

“Well, let’s start the actual game, shall we? First question: your boyfriend was at a meeting this morning with his band and their label. Who’s their label?”

The question stuns you. You’re suddenly frozen in place and you can’t gather the air in your lungs to even breathe, let alone speak. How the fuck do they know that? Why do they want this information if they obviously already have it?

“S-Sumerian,” you choke out.

“Correct. Next question: what band member left before the production of their second album began?”

You now feel sick to your stomach. You suspect this has to be some crazed fan with an unhealthy obsession with Bad Omens. If that’s the case, they should know already know the answer to this particular question. So why are they asking you?

“Vincent.”

“Good. Final question: where am I?”

“Wh-What? What do you mean where are you?”

“Where. Am. I?”

Dread floods your body. “Are you in my house?!” you practically yell in to the phone speaker.

“Come find out. But if you find me it won’t count as answering the question.”

You’re quick to tear the landline from your ear and jab your thumb against the end call button then tossing it onto the kitchen counter. Your hands are shaking as you take a few steps away from it, silently hoping it won’t ring again.

But it isn’t the phone’s shrill ring that makes you jump. It’s a sound coming from somewhere else in the house.

Your fight or flight response kicks in immediately. You rush to flee through the front door when you hear slow, heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. They sound calculated and deliberate, and you have no choice but to stand there in terror.

From the direction of yours and Olivia’s bedrooms comes a dark figure. They walk out of the shadows and into the dining room. Their body is covered in a black cloak, with a hood up over their head and a white mask on their face. The mask is a simple depiction of a screaming face. But it’s not any less mortifying as you watch them.

The figure comes to a stop when they catch sight of you. Their head tilts to one side, almost they’re considering their next move of action.

But you move first, suddenly booking it for the opposite end of the house towards the laundry room, the extra bathroom, and the garage. You hear them give chase a moment later.

You scramble your way into the garage in hopes of getting the large door to slide open. But the masked figure is one step behind you, and prevents you from hitting the door controls. They have you tripping forwards, and you nearly face plant into the concrete but you catch your weight on your hands. You push yourself up just as the intruder goes to grab you.

Darting around your car, that still sits idly in the middle of the space, you are being taunted by the figure in the hood. They stay near the door back into the house which keeps you on the other side of the car.

Then they’re skirting around the vehicle straight for you. You make a last second decision and make a break for the door inside. The intruder races back after you.

The figure chases you down the hall towards your bedroom. You go to slam the door shut before they can reach you, but you didn’t anticipate their strength. They shove the door open all the way, making you scramble back to your bed. You’re panting as you scoot backwards on the mattress.

The black-cloaked figure says nothing as they slowly stalk towards you. Adrenaline in coursing through your veins and you’re panicking. You are rendered silent as they reach the bed and continue their hunt across the sheets until they’re looming over you. The white mask is haunting as it stares down at you with that soundless wail.

“P-Please… I-I don’t wanna die…”

No response. Whoever is underneath that mask does not seem interested in listening to your pleas.

One of their hands reaches back behind them and reveals a shimmering hunting blade. The metal is clean and shiny, and you can see your fear reflected back at you through it.

Their unoccupied hand goes for your shirt, and you flinch at the contact. Your heart is pounding relentlessly as your shirt is lifted from your body. You couldn’t help but be compliant, especially with how they’ve got you situated between their legs.

You watch as they point the knife at you, then have the fine tip poking at the indent at the center of your collarbones. The barely-there feeling of the cold metal on your skin is sending your brain into overdrive. They then slowly, lazily, drag the blade downwards across your bare chest. You see how they’re clearly enamored by the goosebumps flaring across your abdomen as they continue dragging the knife down, down down…

Suddenly, there’s a hand gripping your throat. But it’s not with the murderous intention you were expecting. Instead, there is almost a gentleness to how their squeezing your neck, with the way their thumb grazes your pulse point.

You’re horrifically confused.

You nearly say something to them, but they’re taking the hand holding the knife to their mask. And then they tug off the black hood and this is the end, oh god—

“Noah?!”

And yes, that is your boyfriend kneeling above you with a wicked grin on his face and a knife in his hand. The terror and anxiety you had been feeling begins to melt away, and you can feel nothing but anger and embarrassment.

“Told you I’d see you tonight, didn’t I?” Noah says casually.

It’s a struggle to comprehend his presence. You can’t understand why he’s doing this or why he thought it was okay with a murderer running rampant.

“Wh-What the fuck?” you stammer.

“Oh, what’s wrong, baby?” Noah takes his gloved hand away from your throat and uses it to brush aside the stray hairs that were clinging to your skin. “I thought you wanted me to stay over? Keep you safe?”

You did want that, yes. But this is not what you meant. Never did you say you wanted Noah to stalk you like he were the predator and you were the prey.

But you can’t stamp down the exhilaration that is igniting your insides. You can’t get rid of it, especially with how Noah is looking at you. You suddenly want to turn in to jelly and be completely and utterly obedient to his every word.

And that sort of terrifies you.

“I-I did, but you didn’t have to do this,” you tell him. Your body is slowly relaxing beneath the weight of his own, now that any imminent danger has been found folly.

Noah looks at you quizzically. “What do you mean?” he asks you innocently. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe and sound.”

Noah begins tracing lines across your stomach and chest with the blade’s edge once more, a careful hold on the hilt in order not to pierce your flesh. The sensation has your brain faltering and not fully processing his words. Your hands inch towards his thighs.

He notices your hands moving in no time. He doesn’t stop you and says nothing.

You slither your hands under the cheap black fabric, and you immediately grip at his legs. You boldly glide your hands upwards until you reach the waistband of Noah’s pants. Noah watches as you tug lightly at one of the belt loops, then going for the zipper.

“Did my little charade turn you on, baby?” Noah moves the knife under your chin and gently pushes up so you’re forced to make eye contact with him. “Did you like me chasing you?”

You nod. And you see him grin.

“Shit, and who am I to deny you?”

But you know Noah. He’s going to tease you and get you all worked up, have you in near hysterics before he finally gives you what you want. And he doesn’t seem to be in a very generous mood at the moment.

Noah drops the knife to pull off the entire costume. He tosses it aside before getting rid of his shirt as well. A part of you knows this is what he wanted from the beginning, when he first offered to sleep over. But you can’t be bothered by that, not when he’s moving back enough to pull down your pants.

When he gets your pants off, and they join the rest of the clothes on the floor of your bedroom, Noah drags his tattooed hands up your legs agonizingly slow. He stops briefly when he reaches the top of your thighs, but then he proceeds to dig his fingernails in to the soft flesh and tugs you towards him. You yelp in surprise and are promptly shut up when you find your legs slung around Noah’s waist and his hand resting at your throat again.

“Good girl,” Noah says quietly. The hand not on your neck has begun making its way to your clothed core, which earns a weak whimper from you. “Are you gonna keep being a good girl for me?”

You whine when his fingers start stroking at you through your underwear. You think you answer him, but you don’t care enough as you are now grinding into his hand.

For a moment, you feel Noah remove his hands from your body. You whimper and whine at the loss of touch, until his hand is back at your throat and there’s a sharp cold resting on your hip.

The knife harmlessly glides against your skin once more. Then the pressure from the waistband of your underwear vanishes, to be replaced by the metallic cold of the blade in Noah’s hand. It slowly travels down past your pelvis, making you jerk in surprise.

Noah chuckles at the way your body reacts. You almost begin bitching at him when the knife disappears and is then substituted for his fingers. And his fingers feel so much better against your folds than that stupid knife could ever dream of.

And he’s just lazily stroking, avoiding slipping any one of his long, tattooed digits inside of you. You try your best to grind back against his hand, but the one at your throat squeezes for just a moment. It makes you pause, whining at the unexpected dizziness you are now experiencing.

Then his fingers are inside you, stroking and rubbing and searching for that bundle of nerves deep within. You cry out at the sudden intrusion. But then you’re pushing back on Noah’s fingers and the pressure on your throat eases a bit.

“Such a good girl,” you hear Noah murmur. “Can you cum for me, sweetheart?”

You nod frantically and he thrusts his fingers harder into your pussy. You’re moaning and writhing at his touch, and then that same pressure is applied once more to your throat and it’s just too much. Your body clenches around Noah’s fingers and you ride out your orgasm as he slows down his strokes.

The feeling of suddenly being empty is overwhelming. But you don’t have to worry about that much longer when Noah maneuvers your body off of him and onto your stomach. You feel the bed shift as he moves, and the sound of him taking off his pants has you gripping at the sheets.

Then the bed dips from Noah’s weight and he’s suddenly right above you. His bare legs are caging in your thighs and his hands are gently roaming over the expanse of your back. You can feel his cock against your ass; it takes a little too much self control to not push back into him, although you end up failing.

“You look so hot like this, baby,” Noah says. His hands halt at your hips, and he’s digging his fingertips into the bone. “So, so good for me.”

Noah doesn’t hesitate when he begins pushing his hard cock into you and using your hips as leverage. You’re crying out and moaning weakly as he adjusts slightly and then bottoms out.

There isn’t any warning given before Noah is pulling out just enough then slamming back in. He sets a brutal but steady pace as he fucks you. Your knuckles are whitening from your tight grip on the bedsheets. You quickly become a moaning, blubbering mess beneath Noah as he keeps going and going.

He keeps hitting your cervix perfectly and it makes you see stars. His hands on your hips is currently the only tether you have on reality.

Suddenly there’s a hand in your hair and it tugs at the roots until you prop yourself up on your elbows. Noah’s grip on your hair is sending spikes of pain from your scalp all the way down to your shoulders. But each thrust of his hips is another tug on the strands of hair entangled in his fingers. It’s a mashup of sensations that has you chasing your high again.

“Ah— Ah—“

God, you’re so close. You need to cum so fucking bad.

“Ah, Noah—“

“Come on, baby,” Noah breathlessly encourages you. “I want you to cum with my name on your lips.”

And with that, your pussy is clenching around him and you’re coming with a cry of his name. Then his thrusts get sloppier until he’s coming inside of you. You feel all warm as you are filled with nothing but Noah.

Noah then pulls out and the feeling of his cum dripping out of you is definitely the best thing you’ve ever experienced.

His hands are then forcing you to turn over and rest on your back. He straddles your weak body, and the sight of him above you like that makes you want to go again.

“Such a good little slut for me,” he says quietly. His chest is heaving as he drags one of his hands upwards, starting at your stomach and stopping at your tits. He palms one then the other, playing with each for but a moment. “Always so good for me, baby.”

Silence settles over you while Noah continues to just touch you. It’s calming and has your eyelids growing heavy.

But there’s still something that is gnawing at your brain. And you have to say something.

“Are you the killer?” Your voice is fragile when you verbalize your question.

It doesn’t seem to bother Noah, though. His hands are still wandering and touching you as he seems to process what you said.

“Yes. Does that scare you?” he replies. His eyes dart up to meet yours, and the dark glint has your heart pounding. “Do I scare you?”

You don’t have an answer for him, so you remain quiet.

“Are you afraid of me?”

He’s referring to what you had talked about yesterday. A part of you wants to yell out and tell him you are utterly terrified of him, that you cannot fathom the horrific atrocities he has committed. You can’t stand the thought of how much blood stains his hands. The hands that are touching you, caressing every curve…

“No,” you whisper.

Noah’s mouth twists into a lopsided grin. Your answer seems to satisfy him, and you can’t help the satisfaction you also feel spreading throughout your chest.

“Good. I would never want you to be afraid of me,” he tells you as he leans down so your faces are parallel. “You’re mine. And I’ll get rid of anyone that thinks they can take you from me.”

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated :)

a/n: happy halloween, my fellow noah whores >:))

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #scream au #ghostface noah sebastian #𖤐 #𖤐: writing

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unforgettwble-sumii · 9 months

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KISS ME — A . F

(Amber Freeman x fem!reader 📖)

⭐ Amber gives you an accidental kiss infront of your friends.

⭐ Warnings ‼️: ooc! Amber (?), swearing, I don't know anything about gaming, Ghostface does not exist, still haven't watched Scream bcs all the killing will make me sad lmfao, not proof read!

⭐ word count: 699

a/n: I am willing to do anything for Amber Freeman. Also I was listening to Clarity while writing this, I low-key felt high.

—

The sound of the television and soft laughing could be heard in the background as Amber was sipping a mug of coffee. It was around 6 a.m in the morning and for some reason, everyone was awake.

Not that you had a problem with it, infact, you absolutely loved it. Everyone all huddled up in your apartment and making stupid jokes to pass time; it made you warm and soft inside.

This past week everyone has been staying in your apartment, and seeing them every morning made you feel safe—not from anyone or anything in particular, but you just liked the feeling seeing everyone all together.

"Here, drink this." Sam, who just came from the kitchen, handed you a mug of coffee.

You gave her a smile and softly thanked her; earning a smile from the older woman in return.

"It's decaf coffee, by the way." She added, plopping on the blue bean bag beside the couch, taking a sip of her own coffee before changing her gaze to the television.

"By the way, why are you guys awake at this hour? Especially you Chad. You'd still be asleep due to the amount of alcohol you drank at last night's party." Mindy stated, eyeing her twin brother.

While everyone else was answering Mindy's question, you glanced at Amber who gave you a smile and motioned for you to sit beside her.

You happily obliged and sat beside her. Amber snaking an arm over your shoulder.

Keeping the relationship between you and Amber a secret was harder than you thought; often forgetting that you and Amber kept it a secret.

Coming out to the people you love was a big yet an important thing to do, you just wasn't sure when to tell them or how they would react.

Amber softly rubbed circles on your shoulder, pulling you closer as if you already weren't as close as possible.

"How was your sleep?" She asked, tilting her head slightly.

"Could've been better." You sighed, resting your head on her shoulder.

Everyone, other than you and Amber, had shifted their attention to the screen and the two infront of them; Mindy and Chad, who were currently playing Mario kart.

'Who the hell plays Mario kart at 6 in the fucking morning?' you questioned yourself. You shook your head, discarding the question.

In the midst of the chaos; laughing, giggling, and the sounds of the controller clicking, Amber leaned closer to your face and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

This had caught you off guard, and apparently, your friends too. They all looked at Amber as if she was on fire, eyes wide and mouth agape. Absolute shock washed their face. No words exchanged, just dead silence as you tried to compose a sentence.

"Ok, what the fuck." Tara broke the silence, shocked as everyone else.

You tried to speak, yet failing miserably as you couldn't even form a sentence.

"I knew it. I fucking knew it." Mindy put a hand over her mouth, "pay up fucker." She said, looking at Chad, her smile clear as day.

Chad grumbled as he dug through his pocket to fish out a $20 dollar bill.

Mindy laughed at her brother's defeat, but a serious expression soon plastered her face as she realized you had been hiding your relationship with Amber this whole time.

"You two have been dating this whole time, and didn't think to tell us?!" Tara scoffed, arms folded infront of her chest.

You apologized, "I didn't know how to say it, I'm sorry T, and everyone else." You looked down, not really sure what to say now.

A giggle could be heard beside you. Amber, was laughing her ass off, as if making fun of her friends for not knowing.

You softly hit her chest and giving her a look before she cleared her throat then spoke.

"Yeah, we've been dating for 3 months now."

The sounds of laughing and scoffing soon erupted, lighting up the atmosphere.

Turns out, they didn't really mind. Knowing how hard coming out is, they get where you came from. And in the end, it all worked out well, for you and Amber at least. Chad? not really.

— ⭐ ©unforgettwble-sumii's work. Pls do not repost, steal modify, or translate.

#amber freeman x reader #amber freeman #amber freeman x fem reader #amber #whor3 #scream #Scream6 #mikey madison #mikey madison x reader #fem reader #scream x reader #Mikey #mikey madison x fem reader #mikey madison x fem!reader

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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A Fresh Start [13]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: sick child, medical procedures, anxiety, reliving past traumas, panic and fear about losing a loved one

Word Count: 3,439

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

A/N: HEY MY DUDES. THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE CHAPTER THAT INSPIRED IT ALL. I pictured the scenes in this chapter in my head, wanted to write it, but I knew in order to have the emotional impact I wanted it to have i had to build a full ass story around it and I did lolol.

Thanks to all who have shared their love! This is like my fourth update in four days but unfortunately that will slow a bit this weekend. I’m crazy busy this weekend so it might not be until next week that you get a real update.

Ch. #13: THE DANGER HAS PASSED, CYAR’IKA

Chapter Summary: You must relive your past in order to save your future.

“She was powerful,

not because she wasn’t scared

but because she went on so strongly,

despite the fear.”

-atticus

After deciding to go to the clinic, you paused only to tuck your blaster into the back of your waistband before sprinting out the door. It would take you at least fifteen minutes to get to the clinic, and that was if you ran the entire way. Hot wiring and stealing the neighbor’s speeder bike? That would take you two minutes top. A talent you had Tatooine to thank for.

When you set Grogu in the speeder’s basket, so your hands would be free, he screamed. A mixture of unintelligible cries and ‘Ma’ over and over again. Hands trembling, you got the bike going and jumped on. It maybe wasn’t the safest to drive with Grogu in your arms, but you couldn’t bear to not hold him. The streets were bare of anyone and everyone. There had been no city wide siren for a warning, like Coruscant had, but the word about the pirates must have got around.

Everyone was hiding.

As predicted, you got there in a quarter of the time on the speeder bike and when you reached the clinic you hopped off before it came to an actual stop. The bike ended up slamming into the clinic wall without someone to turn it away, but you were already halfway through the door. Just like the rest of Nevarro, it was bare.

“Hey!” You screamed as you reached the empty front desk of the waiting room. “Daelar! Where the kriff are you!?” A woman, a young Twi’lek, poked her head out from around the corner. “You!” She jumped at your tone. “Get me Daelar right now.”

“He’s not here, ma’am.” She shook her head.

Whatever. You didn’t have time to chase that bastard. “Fine. Where’s the med droid!?”

“Broken.” She admitted. “If this is an emergency I can call a shuttle to take you off world.”

You felt the blood leave your face, your heart stopped in your chest, breath caught in your lungs. The words slipped from your mouth, aghast, “What did you just say?”

“Daelar left off world hours ago, and the droid has been malfunctioning since yesterday.” She repeated. “But I can…”

She was still talking. Her mouth was moving, but all you could hear was Grogu’s whimpering cries and a high pitched whine that filled your head⏤ as if a bomb had gone off and left you deaf to the world. Daelar left? He left off world knowing the droid was broken? Knowing that he’d be leaving all of this world without a healer?

“How long for a shuttle?” You demanded. “How long to get to the⏤ How long!?”

“An hour tops, I would guess, but I cannot guarantee⏤”

“No, no, no.” You moaned. Even if that time estimate was accurate it was too long. Grogu was getting hotter and hotter, his cries getting weaker and weaker, and you hated the way his eyelids fluttered weakly. You shook your head. “Unlock the doors for me. I need to get back there.”

“I’m sorry. That’s for medical personnel only.” She replied. She set her hands on the desk.

“I don’t care.”

“Ma’am⏤”

Without blinking, you pulled the blaster out from the back of your waistband and leveled it at her. Her eyes widened in panic. Hands shot up in surrender. You chose to leave the safety on. You didn’t want to hurt this woman, but you weren’t going to let her stand in your way either.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” You seethed. “That door will be unlocked, I will have access to the medical supplies, and I am going to save my son. This is going to happen regardless of the decision you make right now, but it’ll be easier for all of us if you help.”

She nodded once and you lowered the blaster. The Twi’lek hurried to the side door and you followed her. She used her hand print to open the door into the emergency medical bay. The large room had four cots in total, and the side wall was made up entirely of glass cabinets where you could see supplies and ingredients. You quickly set Grogu on the closest cot and the fact that he didn’t even react to being set down sent a sharp strike of fear through you.

“Hey, what’s your name?” You shouted back at the girl while hooking up Grogu to the vitals machine.

“Aayla.”

“What’s your training?”

“I’m⏤I’m new to this. I’m a tech.”

No official medical training, but a tech would be helpful. You pointed to her, voice clear and loud, to get your order heard. “Aayla, get four ice packs. I want one under him, on top of him, and on either side. I need to cool him down quickly. Understand?”

She nodded and turned to the supplies to get the ice packs. The vitals machine began to blare, and your head snapped back to look at it. Heart rate was much too fast, even for Grogu who ran high naturally. His oxygen level was hovering on the lower end of normal. His temperature though⏤ Maker⏤ it was 102 degrees and you watched in horror as the decimal point next to it changed from 3 to 7. It was still steadily rising.

The sound of his whimpers, the blaring of the machine, you felt stuck. You were trapped in that moment once more watching Soran die. You shouldn’t have been her physician. It was too personal.

This was so much worse.

Aayla returning with the ice packs was what snapped you back to reality. You were scared, terrified, but you couldn’t afford to be. You swallowed every ounce of it and forced yourself to move. You needed to act.

You had told Din it was normal for parents to panic, but you couldn’t.

Your next movements were a blur of muscle memory. It didn’t matter that this clinic was unfamiliar to you. Training kicked in and you moved like a woman possessed. Fluids first. You grabbed a bag and set it in the cooler before returning to Grogu with IV gear.

“Aayla.” You sent her to the supplies and called out all the materials and supplies you would need to compound the medicine. While shouting them out, you began to attempt to start an IV on Grogu. It wasn’t easy. His arm was small, his veins smaller. It took you three tries before you finally got it in. Aayla had brought over all the items requested and you sent her for the fluids you set in the cooler. “Clip it in, and hang it.”

Aayla confirmed the order and you stepped aside to begin to work. You needed an antipyretic first. The rising fever was the most dangerous aspect of Grogu’s sickness right now. Any higher and he could start to have seizures⏤ any higher and his body could shut down. Anxiety crawled up your spine and latched to your mind. It had been so, so long since you compounded anything. What if you messed this up? No. You didn’t have time to doubt yourself. Go with your gut. Trust yourself.

When you added the last ingredient the liquid turned from clear to an electric blue and relief flooded your body. Aayla watched intently as you hurried back over and connected the vial of antipyretics to a medigun. You pressed the clean needle to Grogu’s outer thigh and pulled the trigger. All of the liquid disappeared and you set the gun aside.

“How do you know how to do all this?” Aayla gasped.

“I’m a doctor.” You answered mechanically.

Now, you needed an antibiotic. Same process. Different ingredients. You wanted to cover as many bugs as possible, go as broad as you could, and then once Grogu was stable the coverage could narrow to something more specific. It took you about the same time to make the antibiotic and when the liquid turned the shade of purple it was supposed to be you rushed back to Grogu’s side.

Aayla held up the medigun when you went to search for it and you realized she had replaced the needle with a fresh one and sanitized the entire thing. You thanked her and injected this one into Grogu’s opposite thigh. Fluids. Antipyretics. Antibiotics. That was all you could do.

Now, it was out of your hands.

Din’s entire body ached, and he was exhausted. The only reassuring thought being that the fight was over, and he could go home. Home to Grogu. Home to you. As much as he still wanted to have that talk, he wondered if he could convince you to hold off until tomorrow. All he wanted right now was to crawl into bed with you and his son in his arms. Granted, he might need to have the talk before inviting you into his bed again. Details, details. Din just needed to get home, and you’d have a plan⏤ you’d know what to do.

Clearing the rest of the ex-Imperial base had gone very well. When only two pirates were left standing they both surrendered. Din figured this could be used to their advantage. Pirates were hardly the loyal kind. A little squeezing and they could possibly find where Gorian Shard liked to hide. Granted, that was more along the lines of a bounty hunter’s thoughts than a Marshal’s. Din chose to come back with Mayfeld and Cara to shove the two pirates into the cells. They could be dealt with in the morning.

“Good job today.” Din grunted, already moving toward the door, “Stay home tomorrow. Rest. I’ll work the shifts.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Cara scoffed. “We can still come in.”

“Uh, speak for yourself.” Mayfeld chimed. Din was halfway down the hall when Mayfeld called out for him. Din’s feet came to a stop and he heaved an audible sigh. This really was the day that would not end. “Boss man! Seriously! Get in here now!”

Din jogged back, happy that his helmet wouldn’t show just how annoyed he was right now, and when he re-entered the room both Cara and Mayfeld were crowded around a holopad. Cara glanced up and the look on her face filled Din’s stomach with lead. “An intruder alarm was set off while we were out. From the clinic.” Din’s entire body stiffened. No. He was jumping to conclusions. You promised you’d stay in the house, he called Daelar to go to you. There was no way you and Grogu could’ve been there while someone broke in. “You should see this.”

Mayfeld flipped the holopad around at her words and Din’s eyes focused on a security feed. A young Twi’lek girl stood behind the front desk with her hands raised in surrender while a familiar figure wielding a familiar blaster aimed the end at her chest. Din would recognize your voice anywhere, in any setting, at any time. Even with the security feed adding in a garbled white noise under it all, he knew your voice.

“⏤supplies, and I am going to save my son. This is going to happen regardless of the decision you make right now, but it’ll be easier for all of us if you help.”

He lifted his gauntlet to check his communicator link. What was going on? Why hadn’t you called? His eyes widened when he realized the circuitry in his vambrace was dead. No, no, no. He slammed his other hand into it as if that would miraculously fix it, but it stayed dead. The taser. Dank farrik. He should’ve been paying attention. Din had lost contact with you hours ago and was only just now realizing it.

Din spun on his heel and took off down the hall in a sprint. Cara and Mayfeld were calling out to him, he could hear footsteps following, but he didn’t pause and wait. The clinic was right down the road. He needed to get there. Din needed to be there⏤ now.

You had pulled over a stool and sat by the cot’s side. One hand resting on the half melted ice pack on Grogu’s belly and the other holding his tiny hand. Then you waited on baited breath. Aayla was moving about the room, cleaning you thought, but all you could do was stare at the young boy who looked so small on such a large cot.

“Please, please. Oh, Maker, please.” You mumbled the pleas under your breath⏤ willing the universe to bend to your will. Grogu was your first patient since Soran. If anything happened to him you wouldn’t survive it. You barely survived losing Soran. Kriff, it could be argued that a part of you didn’t. You watched Grogu’s chest rise and fall. ‘Please, please, please.’ You were pleading⏤ begging. If you thought it would help you’d get on your knees and scream at the sky.

Finally, the machines chirped and when you looked up from Grogu to read the numbers you saw his temperature had fallen two full degrees. Your lower lip quivered, relief slamming into you, and it took all your strength to not crumple to the floor.

Din barreled through the clinic’s doors⏤ hard enough that he accidentally shattered the glass as it slammed into the wall. The Twi’lek he had seen on video popped her head around the corner with wide eyes. She held her hands out.

“You’re the Marshal.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I hit the alarm because a woman came in⏤”

“Where is she!?” He barked.

“This is a misunderstanding. I don’t want to press charges⏤ she’s actually a doctor and⏤”

“Where⏤”

Cara slid in behind him and blurted. “That’s his son and wife. Let him through.”

The girl nodded in understanding, and Din couldn’t even spare a thought toward the title Cara had given you. The clinic worker pointed through a set of double doors and Din stormed past her without another second of hesitation. The back room was filled with cots and shelves of medical supplies.

Sitting in the corner though, he saw Grogu lying on a cot with an IV in his arm and connected to the machine on the wall. Din didn’t recognize all the numbers and symbols, but they were all written in a neutral green rather than a dangerous red. Right by his bed, you were perched on a stool with your hands holding onto Grogu while your head rested on the cot. At the sound of his arrival into the room, you lifted your head and your eyes widened. Din rushed toward you and you stood up so fast the stool fell to the floor.

“He’s okay now. He’s stable.” You blurted. “Daelar never brought me the⏤ the medicine. Grogu spiked a fever and got worse, I tried to call⏤”

“My communicator broke. I’m so sorry.” Din leaned over the cot and cautiously ran a hand over his son’s head. Grogu didn’t look sick right now. He just looked like he was sleeping. Snoring softly without a single cough. “The fever⏤”

You spoke up. “It broke maybe twenty minutes ago? It’s normal now. All his vitals are. I gave him antipyretics and antibiotics for whatever infection he has. He’s stable.” Din let out a sigh of relief and he bowed his head to lightly tap against Grogu’s. Your voice shook. “He’s stable.”

Din slowly lifted his gaze to look to you. You had never looked so small before. Panic and fear still shone bright in your eyes despite the air of confidence you were trying to push out. Your arms were wrapped around your own body. Din took a step toward you and you flinched.

“Cyar’ika.” He whispered. “It’s okay.” You nodded once⏤ swallowed hard. “You said it yourself. Grogu is stable. He’s safe.” Your lower lips quivered and he watched you bite down on it. Din took another step and held his hand out to you. “You saved him. You. You did this⏤ you saved him.” Tears collected in your eyes and you lifted your gaze to the ceiling as if to avoid looking directly at him. Din knew you must have been a storm of genius confidence just like he saw you last night. He had seen the video of you holding a stranger at blaster’s end to get the supplies you needed. Din also knew that sometimes it was easy to take action, grab ahold of the danger, and let your body act while your mind took a backseat. Instinct took over. When that happened, it was hard to slip back into reality. To relax. “It’s over now. The danger has passed, Cyar’ika.” Din set his hands on your arms. “Talk to me.”

Your eyes snapped to meet his and those collected tears streamed down your face. You shook your head, voice shaky and pained, “I was so scared, Din.”

He was already pulling you into his chest at the same time that you leaned into him. Din cupped the back of your neck, squeezing in reassurance, as you buried your face in the crook of his shoulder. You sobbed into his neck⏤ tears soaking into his cloak. He whispered that everything was okay and his words slipped out in Mando’a out of habit. Din added in Basic. “You did so good, ner kar’ta.”

“I was so scared I was going to mess up.” You clung to him so tightly. As if he was the only thing anchoring you here. “He was so sick and I⏤I haven’t done this in so long. I was terrified⏤ He⏤If he⏤ If he died⏤” Din didn’t even like thinking along those lines. You suddenly pulled your face away from him, but Din wouldn’t let you get far. He kept you caged in his arms. You shook your head. “I⏤I didn’t want him to end up like Soran.” Your words came out between harsh sobs. “I didn’t want to be the reason somebody I loved died again.”

If Din wasn’t the kind to pay attention then your words would have been nonsensical. However, he knew you were hiding from something. He knew you had a past that led to a terrible injury. And he knew your name wasn’t Soran. The way you screamed it out that night he woke up. Plus, half the time when he called out to you using that name you never answered. Din got more response from calling you ‘Cyar’ika’. He knew all of this, he just didn’t care. Who you were didn’t matter to him. You mattered to him. You in this moment. You in his arms.

Din tore off his gloves, something he’d never do outside of the safety of his ship or home, but he needed to touch you. He needed you to feel the warmth. Din cupped your face tenderly, using his thumbs to swipe away the lingering tears. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead softly to rest against yours.

“I don’t know your history, I don’t know your past, but here’s what I do know.” Din spoke slowly, enunciated every single word so it would be seared into your mind. “You are an incredible woman. Smart, beautiful, brave⏤ You never cease to amaze me, and there is nobody in this galaxy that I would trust Grogu with over you.” The words rang true as they left his lips. It wasn’t a simple comfort. It was a declaration. “Every single day I leave my home, I know⏤ without a doubt⏤ that I am leaving Grogu in the most capable hands other than my own.”

“Din…” You breathed.

Maker, he wanted to kiss you. It wasn’t a desire born of lust. Not this time. Din wanted to press feather light kisses against every inch of your face. Use his lips to brush away your tears, to stop your lip from quivering, to chase away your fear. Never, in his entire life, had his helmet felt like such a restriction to him. A wall of beskar keeping him from bringing you the comfort you needed. The comfort he wanted to give.

“I trust you, and all tonight does is prove that I was right.” Din said. “You saved Grogu. Not me, not anyone else. You.” You took in a slow breath, the first steady one he had seen from you since he got here, and he felt his entire body relax at the sound. “Thank you. Just thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for that.” You replied. “I’d do anything for him. Anything, Din.”

“I know.”

“I’d…” You paused. Your eyes closed and Din found himself missing the color. Even for the brief moment it was missing. “I’d do anything for you too.” Your eyes opened once more and the panic and fear had faded. Leftover tears clung to your eyelashes, but he was staring into eyes he recognized⏤ eyes filled with so much kindness and care that his knees felt weak. “I love Grogu and I… You…”

Din nodded and pulled away from your face so he could tuck you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you as he set his head atop yours. Din needed to feel more of you. He ran a hand up and down your spine, “You’re important to me as well, ner kar’ta.”

For the first time since he left the house this morning, Din felt at peace.

mando’a translations

Cyar’ika: Darling, sweetheart

Ner Kar’ta: My Heart

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #protective din djarin #good dad din djarin #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian and grogu #Female reader #reader insert #slow burn #cara dune #migs mayfeld

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dragonflylady77 · 4 months

Text

This is my contribution to the Harringrove Relay Race! ✨

@harringrove-relay-race

Read it on Ao3

I took the 500 words minimum word limit and blew it out of the water, so... enjoy.

(unbeta'd)

***********

I wanna do everything with you

the coffee shop au x college au x enemies to lovers x there was only one bed fic you never knew you needed... (also, with basketball!)

***********

“Out of the way, pretty boy.”

Steve grits his teeth and presses himself closer to the coffee machine so Hargrove has room to walk past him. Why the guy decided to bring in another box of coffee grounds during rush hour when there are three full bags in the cupboard already, Steve has no idea.

The Californian import is probably doing it to mess around with Steve as usual. Steve sighs as he gets back to making the next drink on his list. As much as he has enjoyed working at The Dolphin Café over the summer, he can’t wait for fall to arrive and classes to start. He won’t have to see Hargrove again after that.

He isn’t sure why Hargrove has it in for him like that, he’s barely talked to the guy since he started. Not on purpose, but they usually have different shifts and the way Hargrove stares at him sometimes when they’re working together makes Steve uneasy. Makes him feel things he’d rather not think about.

Billy Hargrove is hot and he knows it and he seems to loooooove the attention from everyone, regardless of gender. Golden curls, a killer smile, a sculpted chest he keeps exposing by not buttoning up his shirt, no matter how many times their manager reminds him he should and jeans so tight they look painted on. Yeah, the guy is the full package.

Too bad the full package is also arrogant as fuck and determined to get on Steve’s last nerve every shift. So Steve takes deep breaths and smiles even when he wants to scream, and he focuses on filling orders and the end of summer.

He is counting the days until he can see Robin again, once she’s back from her trip to Germany. He’s really missed his best friend all summer and he knows there is no way his dad would have agreed to their deal without her.

Steve will always be grateful to Robin for helping him craft a proposition Richard Harrington agreed on. They’d even got a lawyer involved and his father had signed off on it, promising he’d pay Steve an allowance while he’s in college if he managed to get accepted and hold a job all summer beforehand.

Steve knows how lucky he is to have gotten in, even if it’s on a basketball scholarship. The look on his father’s face had been worth all the extra work he’d put in. The knowledge Richard Harrington has lost this particular battle against his only son, whom he deems a complete idiot, is the cherry on top.

Now Steve just needs to survive the last couple of weeks at the coffee shop, with Hargrove breathing down his neck at every opportunity. Then he’ll be free, and in college, and he can hang out with Robin again.

***

“Tell me more about this guy,” Robin asks the second she gets in his car, her bags filling the backseat and the trunk of the Beamer.

Steve instantly regrets offering her a ride to her dorm. It’s a long drive back to Chicago and his last shift is still fresh in his mind. Well, what happened when he’d clocked out for the last time anyway. Steve said goodbye to the manager who reminded him he could still come back for weekend shifts. Steve once again declined his offer and told him he was done with the Dolphin Café, as staff anyway. Hargrove was behind the counter and stared at him for the duration of that entire conversation, his eyes full of what looked like hurt. Steve glanced away and walked out without a word.

“You know as much as I do already, why must we spend more time on the subject?” Steve knows he’s whining but fuck, it’s not enough that he spent all summer working with the guy, now his best friend wants to talk about him as well? Steve is so fucking glad he never told her about the dreams. No one, EVER, needs to find out about those.

“Because, dingus,” Robin starts, cutting him that look of hers that means she knows something Steve doesn’t. It’s a look he’s really familiar with by now.

He sighs. “What? Spit it out, Rob. It’s a long drive and I’d rather talk about something else.”

Robin snorts and Steve glares.

“The dingus doth protest too much, methinks,” she says and Steve groans.

"Stop it."

“Oh come on, Steve. From everything you’ve told me about this guy, it’s clear to me you have a crush on him and I th—”

“What? What the fuck, Robin?” Steve swerves a bit from the surprise but manages to keep the car in the appropriate lane. “Leaving aside the fact that I am, you know, straight, how exactly did you get to that conclusion?”

“Really? Did you not hear yourself over the past three months? Hargrove this, and Hargrove that, you haven't stopped talking about him.”

“Because he’s been a pain in my ass since the day he started at work! He’s constantly in my face, calling me names and making a nuisance of himself.” Steve is getting worked up, because why can’t Robin see the problem? He takes a few calming breaths, and focuses on the road.

“He’s pulling your pigtails, dingus.”

“What? No! He hates me, and I didn’t even do anything.”

Robin shakes her head and Steve doesn’t need to sneak a glance her way to know she’s rolling her eyes.

“Steve…”

“No.” There is no way. Is there?

“Fine. Enjoy staying in Egypt, I heard it’s nice this time of year.”

“Whatever.”

Steve is glad that Robin drops it then and moves on to talking about the classes she is gonna be taking when college starts.

***

Billy is stacking the latest batch of lemon blueberry muffins on the display stand when he hears a familiar voice. He glances up to scan the sparse Sunday afternoon crowd and spots Harrington walking towards one of the booths in the back.

He’s chatting animatedly with a girl Billy hasn’t seen before. She’s got light brown hair and big eyes and talks with her hands a lot. Harrington must have said something stupid because the girl punches him in the shoulder and he laughs it off, while rubbing the spot she hit. Their behavior gives off a sibling vibe, which does nothing to quell the longing in Billy’s chest.

They sit on opposite sides and the girl looks up at the menu on the big boards behind the counter. Harrington sneaks a few glances around and Billy looks away before they make eye contact.

It’s a surprise to see Harrington again after he announced his departure a week ago. Billy is still getting over the feeling of betrayal upon finding out his secret crush was leaving, as he was walking out the door.

He thought he’d have more time to try to turn the stupid rivalry into some kind of friendship. But he always seems to rub Harrington the wrong way, no matter what he says. From the day Billy started at The Dolphin Café at the end of July, he’d tried to make friends but Harrington wanted no bar of it.

Billy finishes placing the last muffin on the stand and puts the dome cover on top in time for Harrington’s friend to come up to the counter to order.

“Hello, welcome to the Dolphin Café. What can I get you?” he smiles as he asks and the girl smiles back, her eyes dropping to his name tag for a second.

“Hey Billy. I’m Robin. The best friend. Can I get two of those delicious looking muffins please, a cappuccino and a mocha with four sugars and extra whipped cream.”

“Ah, yes, the Harrington special. Coming right up.”

The girl snorts and Billy chances a glance in Harrington’s way. He is reclining in his booth, glaring at them, and looks away the second Billy’s eyes meet his.

“Is that an actual item on the menu or a name you made up just for him?” she asks, leaning her elbows on the counter.

Billy feels his face warm up and he turns towards the coffee machine, praying Robin can’t tell he’s blushing. He busies himself making the drinks she ordered, mulling over his answer before things get too weird.

“Um…” He shrugs, sprinkling cinnamon on her cappuccino. “I mean, I did ask Hop to add it to the menu as a legacy item since Steve left, but he declined.”

“Aw, my poor dingus is not special enough to make the menu. He’ll be heartbroken.” The smirk on her face and the tone in her voice belie her words and it’s Billy’s turn to snort.

“Pretty sure he hated this place so…” Billy places the drinks on a tray, with the muffins Robin ordered. “You go sit down, I’ll bring them over.”

“Thanks, Billy.”

Billy follows Robin back to the booth and carefully unloads the contents of the tray on the table. He manages to not look at Harrington while he does but he can feel him watching his every move. It’s unsettling and rekindles the fire in Billy’s chest.

Fuck.

“Thanks.” The frosty clipped tone does things that it shouldn’t to Billy’s insides and he focuses on Robin instead.

“Enjoy. Sing out if you need anything else.”

“Thank Billy,” she says again with a grin.

With a nod, Billy leaves, stopping to clear a table and wipe it clean on his way back to the counter. He needs a smoke but it’s a while yet until his break. A loud group walks in and he is happy to be kept busy. He still notices when Harrington and Robin leave and wonders if that was the last time he’s ever gonna see him.

***

A week later, Billy walks into the gym for the first basketball practice. His advisor was surprised he’d picked a sport as an elective, he’s an English Lit major after all. Makes Billy want to cackle really. Seems people either think he’s a meathead and want him for his body, or they’re shocked to learn there’s more to books and case studies in his life.

He steps around the corner in the changing room and a familiar voice stops him in his tracks. Keeping his eyes on the locker numbers, he locates his and heads over, dumping his gym bag on the bench in front of his assigned locker.

“Hargrove?” Harrington’s voice reaches him, surprise and dismay thick in his tone. “What the fuck?”

Billy glances at him and nods once in acknowledgment before focusing on getting changed. He can hear Harrington muttering about him to the guy he’s standing with a few feet away but he manages to tune them out. Force of habit, really. Growing up with Neil Hargrove has taught him not to react and he has become really good at it.

The coach walks in and sends them into the gym to do some laps as a warm up. After some drills to see where they’re at, he splits them into two teams. Billy plays skins, and to his great delight, Harrington ends up on the opposing team.

They’re both point guards which means Billy can get up close to try and stop Harrington when he gets the ball. He is thrilled to discover that Harrington is as competitive as he is on the court, even if he seems to have trouble staying upright when Billy crashes into him to steal the ball.

Billy offers Harrington a hand, half surprised when the other guy takes it, and he leans down close, the pendant around his neck nearly touching Harrington’s chin.

“You were moving your feet. Plant them next time, draw a charge!” He lets go of Harrington’s hand, his fingers tingling from the contact and steps over him to go back to his side of the court as they reset the play. He feels Harrington’s eyes on his back as he walks away but forces himself to look straight ahead, trying to get his breathing under control.

Fuck, that was exhilarating. Billy knows he needs to be careful how close he gets to Harrington because basketball shorts don’t hide much and he doesn’t need the embarrassment or the rumors that would follow him like the plague.

Once training is over, he showers in a corner as fast as he can and gets out of there, glancing at Harrington on his way out. He nearly walks into the door jamb when he clocks the hair on the guy’s chest and manages to dress in record time, despite the semi he’s now sporting.

Tight jeans conceal anything, thank fuck for small mercies. He shoves his gym clothes in his bag and hightails it out of there like hellhounds are on his tracks.

Once in his car, he allows himself to breathe, closing his eyes and letting himself remember the literal fur covering Harrington’s fucking chest. He’d give pretty much anything to run his fingers through that.

Billy groans, pressing his palm on his crotch to relieve some of the pressure and turns the engine on. He’s got a shift at the Dolphin in ten minutes and he can’t afford to be late. Jerking off to the memories of Harrington naked in the shower will have to wait.

***

“One Harrington special!” Robin announces as she puts down Steve’s drink on the table, before flopping on the chair across from him.

“Shhhh, Robin, we’re in a library!” Steve whispers and Robin rolls her eyes.

“No one cares, dingus.”

Steve takes a sip of his coffee, watching Robin get her laptop out of her bag. He frowns. “What did you call my drink just now?”

“Oh, um, the Harrington special. That’s what Billy called it the other day when we were at the coffee shop.”

“I’m sorry. Billy?” Steve stares at her and she shrugs. “Robin, why are you on a first name basis with that guy?”

“Cos he’s nice? And funny? And, like, really really clever?”

“What. The. Fuck?” Steve has no words. He can’t comprehend the betrayal twisting in his gut right now.

Robin sighs. “He’s in my Romantic Poetry class and also my Literature of the Commonwealth class. He’s also in my Creative Writing Workshop class and we may or may not be working on a project together. Don’t be mad.”

“Robin. I… you… what?”

“See, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. I know you’d be weird about it.”

“Only because you seem to have swapped me for my fucking nemesis.”

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking dramatic. You’ve been hating the guy for months for no reason.”

“Robin! I told you what he did. How he was with me. All summer when I worked at the Dolphin! If anything, he’s the one who hates me.”

Robin gives him that look that says he’s being a giant whiny baby (her words) and Steve sits back in his chair, sipping his coffee. He doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. Robin won’t listen or take him seriously anyway.

“Steve, let me ask you this,” Robin starts, and he can tell she’s trying to be patient with him. “Why would a guy who hates you name a drink after you?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t know, okay. I don’t know how his brain works, or why he called me pretty boy and sweetheart for three months straight. Makes no sense to me.”

“Really?”

Okay now she’s giving him the ‘oh can you so fucking dense’ look and Steve decides enough is enough.

“You know what, whatever. I’m gonna go.” He closes his laptop and starts gathering his notes. His statistics assignment can wait. He already got an extension anyway. “Need to pack for my trip. We’re leaving at the crack of dawn tomorrow and I need to go to bed early or I’ll miss the bus.”

“Ah yes, the basketball trip. Billy mentioned it at our study session last night.”

“Last night? That’s why you blew me off for movie night?” Steve is getting more pissed off by the minute. He closes his backpack and grabs his coffee, though he’s not sure he wants to drink it anymore.

“Did you miss the part where I said we are working on a group project for a class?” Robin asks, leaning forward on her elbows, one eyebrow raised. He hates that she can do the eyebrow thing and he can’t.

“He better keep his hands to himself or I will punch him.”

“Yeah well, you can relax with your macho bullshit, cos he knows about me not liking boys.”

“You told him?”

“It came up,” Robin replies, mysterious as ever.

“Fine. Whatever. You know what? Keep your little secret rendez-vous and your brainiacs study sessions that I will never understand. I’ll see you when I get back, unless Hargrove kills me while we’re away.”

He leaves the library in a huff, Robin’s cackle following him out the door.

The next morning, Steve gets to the bus with two minutes to spare. He shoves his bag in the luggage compartment before stepping onto the bus, running a hand through his hair to try and tame it. Of course he slept through his stupid alarm and now he owes Robin, again, because she called him to check he was awake.

He spots Hargrove at the back of the bus, with Tommy Hagan and Jason Carver, so he sits at the front and keeps his head turned towards the window.

They get to the school where they’re playing that afternoon and Coach gets them to run drills and warm-ups for a couple of hours. Steve manages to stay away from Hargrove as much as possible, though Hargrove seems to have dialed down the hostilities and only shoves him once.

Soon enough it’s time for the game and they get stuck into it, the instructions yelled by Coach taking precedence over everything else.

It’s a hard fought battle, the opposition is really good, but their team prevails at the last moment, thanks to Hargrove.

Finally, it’s over, Steve is exhausted but happy. He ends up next to Hargrove for the team huddle and for once he doesn’t mind being this close. They’re all riding the high of beating a good team and it’s a heady feeling.

After they’ve all showered and filed back onto the bus, they make their way to the motel. Once they park there, Coach announces that due to budget issues, they’ve had to reduce the number of rooms they could book and they’re all gonna have to bunk with each other.

A collective groan travels down the length of the bus at the revelation. Steve barely pays attention. He doesn’t care who he gets told to bunk with as long as it’s not Hargrove, and he’s pretty sure the other guy feels the same and will ask to stay with Tommy or Carver.

“Right, lads, me and Ms Ross decided that the easiest and most fair way was to lump you alphabetically.”

When Steve hears that, he knows he’s fucked. Because he knows the names of every guy on the team and he’ll either be bunking with Tommy, who he hasn’t talked to since ninth grade, or Hargrove.

Fuck.

Sure enough, a moment later, Coach says Hargrove’s name then his, and a room number. They get off the bus in pairs and grab their bags, with a reminder that they’re expected to be back on the bus at 8am the next morning.

In the lobby, most of the guys on the team arrange to meet at the diner across the road once they’ve dumped their bags in their rooms. Ignoring the noise, Steve gets the key from the front desk and heads down to room 7.

He gets into the room and stops in his tracks when he sees the bed. As in, singular.

One bed.

It’s a big bed, but it’s only one bed.

Fuck.

With a sigh, Steve drops his bag at his feet and he’s about to turn around to go back to the desk to demand a different room when he hears footsteps behind him. Clearly his day can get worse.

“Hey, Harrington,” Hargrove says as he enters the room, “what are you doing standing here in the dark?” He flicks the lights on and drops his bag on the desk to the side.

Steve watches as he takes in the large bed taking most of the space. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“It’s okay.” Hargrove shrugs then unzips his bag and starts looking through it for something.

Steve turns his head to look at him. ��It’s okay? Nothing about this is okay.”

“Oh my god, dude. Don’t freak out because we need to share a bed. Jesus. We can put some pillows down the middle of the mattress if you’re that stressed about it.”

“I’m not stressed about it!” Steve is quick to say, earning himself a look of disbelief from Hargrove.

“Whatever. You going to the diner with the rest of the team?” Hargrove asks as he heads to the ensuite, holding some clothes and his toiletry bag.

“No, I… I’m not hungry.”

“Suit yourself.” The door shuts with a soft click and Steve closes his eyes. He needs to talk to Robin but he knows she is out on a date with some girl she met at work.

Once Hargrove has left the room to get dinner, Steve eats a protein bar he found in his bag then gets ready for bed.

He slips between the covers, ready to leave this day behind. He makes a point to not pile pillows between the two sides of the bed. No need to give Hargrove more ammunition.

***

Billy sighs and checks his watch again. He’s been staring at the ceiling for two hours and is no closer to falling asleep than he was when he got back to the room. Less, even. Because he was sleepy after dinner and not in a mood to get drunk with his teammates, on beer purchased for them by Carver’s boyfriend, the only one old enough to legally buy alcohol.

Billy was surprised to see no pillows separating the two sides of the bed when he walked in. Even more surprised to find Steve fast asleep.

He gives up and sits up, hazarding a glance at Steve. He’s lying on his side, the light coming from the crack in the curtains giving a golden shine to his hair. He looks peaceful and soft and Billy would love nothing more than to cuddle up to him and feel his arms around his back.

He runs through his conversation with Robin for the four hundredth time since it happened three days ago. He was surprised to see her in three of his classes but glad they got paired up for the Creative Writing assignment. From the interaction he had with her at the Dolphin last week, she seemed quick and witty and that hunch had proved right. She’d also clocked him as queer faster than anyone beside Heather ever had and her coming out to him had reassured him immensely.

He isn’t a hundred percent on board with her assessment of Steve’s feelings towards him though. That seems a bit hard to swallow considering the past three months, but she is Steve’s best friend, so Billy figures she might know what she’s talking about.

He’s about to turn the side lamp on and grab his book since he can’t fucking sleep when Steve lets out a whimper. Frozen on the spot, Billy listens, in case Steve is having some kind of nightmare he’ll need to wake him up from (Robin mentioned something about that).

But then the guy starts moaning, a low raspy sound, that causes Billy’s ears to heat up as his sweatpants get a bit tight in the crotch. Billy hears the rustling of the bedding, and Steve doing some kind of squirming that has Billy immediately on edge.

It only gets worse when Steve starts muttering. It’s not really words at first, and Billy rolls over so he’s closer, and can hear properly. He regrets it a minute later.

“P-please… Don’t stop, please,” Steve mutters and Billy bites his fist to stop from making a sound.

This is not happening…

Billy can’t believe he has to lie there silently while Steve is having a fucking sex dream. He moves away and sits on the edge of the bed, his back to Steve, hands balled into fists at his sides, willing his dick to go down because this is beyond pathetic. Yes, he has a crush on the guy, but getting off to his sex dream feels one step too far.

Yet, Steve keeps making goddamn sex noises, and apparently willing whoever he’s dreaming about to keep doing whatever they’re doing to him in his mind and Billy is two seconds away from having a cold shower at three in the morning when suddenly he hears his name.

“Billy… Billy, please…”

Oh fuck.

His fingers dig into his thighs with the effort it takes to not touch his dick and get some relief. He can’t breathe, there is no air in the room, only Steve’s moans and whimpers and his desperate pleas.

And Billy knows it doesn’t mean anything, okay? He knows that Steve can’t stand the sight of him, no matter what Robin said the other night. And there’s nothing he can do about it. Maybe he’s just bad at flirting with a guy he actually cares about. Maybe there’s just something about him that Steve just can’t stand and it’s not his fault. But that doesn’t stop his brain from sending images of what he could be doing to Steve with his fingers and his mouth and, fuck, he really needs to stop thinking about that or he’s gonna blow his load in his pants like a fucking twelve year old.

He doesn’t remember ever being so hard as he is in that moment, when Steve’s breath quickens and he keeps saying Billy’s name over and over and over.

Billy needs to do something, either pretend to sleep or lock himself in the bathroom, because there is no way Steve will react favorably once he’s awake. He’ll either pretend it didn’t happen or be angry at Billy for no reason, as usual.

Unable to listen any longer, he races to the bathroom, slamming the door shut and flicking the lock before he turns the shower on to cover any noise he’s about to make. Leaning against the counter with one hand, he reaches inside his pants and wraps his fingers around his cock, hissing at the contact.

He is barely aware of the movements of his hand, his mind still in the room, in that bed, imagining a hand that’s not his touching him instead. He knows he won’t last long because he’s too keyed up from listening to Steve. He squeezes the head of his cock, and groans at the feeling, his knuckles turning white on the counter.

Billy closes his eyes, pretending Steve is there with him. He can almost feel Steve’s lips on his neck, Steve’s body against his as he jerks him off… The visual is so clear, so much what he craves, and he’s so close now, he can almost taste his orgasm.

“Billy?”

Steve’s voice reaches him through the door and wraps around him and he comes with a grunt he can’t silence, making a mess in his underwear. Panting and trying to catch his breath before his legs give out, he washes his hands and wishes he’d have taken the time to get undressed and step into the shower.

Steve is knocking on the door now. “Are you done? Dude, I need to use the bathroom.”

“Gimme a minute!” Billy’s voice sounds wrecked even to his own ears and with the shower going. He shuts the water off and unlocks the door, steeling himself to face Steve before he opens the door.

Steve’s hair is a mess and Billy forces his eyes to a spot to the side of Steve’s shoulder as he pushes past him and into the room.

“Billy?” Steve’s voice stops him in his tracks and he turns around slowly, taking in Steve who’s standing in the doorway, illuminated from behind by the light in the bathroom. Billy doesn’t remember Steve using his actual name before tonight, he’s always called him Hargrove.

“Yeah?” Billy asks softly. He’s still feeling wired from the whole thing and doesn’t have it in him to maintain the usual bravado in front of Steve. He is not sure what to think when Steve steps closer until he’s standing a foot away. Billy makes sure to keep his eyes up, his gaze following the trail of beauty spots on Steve’s shoulder and up his neck.

He is not so out of it that he doesn’t notice Steve’s eyes tracking down then back up, snagging somewhere on Billy’s naked chest then his mouth before Steve locks eyes with him. The warm spot in Billy’s gut starts boiling.

“Um, Robin said… um Robin has this theory, and… and I think she might be right.”

Billy sighs. He just wants to clean up and get into bed but Steve has never looked at him that way before so his curiosity gets the better of him. “What theory?”

“About me and how I’m not actually, you know… straight.”

“Okay…” Bill isn’t sure what to say. He’s not exactly surprised, in light of the dream Steve was having not that long ago.

“She said something else too.”

“Oh?”

Steve moves forward and he’s so close now that Billy can feel the heat from his body. He doesn’t know where to look or what to think. He takes a deep breath to calm down, and realizes his mistake when all he can smell is Steve and it’s overwhelming.

“You don’t hate me, do you?” Steve asks, his tone sounding more assured now. “You know, Robin reckons you have a crush on me.”

Billy chokes back a moan and bites his lip. Steve’s eyes immediately zero in on that and Billy shudders.

“What are you doing, pretty boy?” Billy whispers, his heart in his throat.

“What feels right,” Steve whispers back, his face so close he’s all Billy can see. “Stop me if you don’t wa—”

Billy breaches the gap and slants his lips onto Steve’s, groaning when Steve tangles both of his in Billy’s curls to pull him closer. Steve’s lips are softer than Billy imagined and he grabs Steve by the waist, using Steve’s needy moan to slide his tongue in Steve’s mouth.

The kiss goes on, hands grabbing and pulling, as they stumble backwards towards the bathroom, bodies pressed close from shoulder to toe.

“Fuck meeee…” Billy whispers when they break to breathe, blinking to adjust to the light. He feels like he’s seen God and can’t get enough of Steve’s tongue in his mouth.

“Maybe later,” Steve replies with a grin, and Billy digs his fingers into Steve’s hips at the thought.

“Steve…”

“You know,” Steve starts, moving away to turn the shower on, his eyes never leaving Billy’s even when he takes his shirt off and drops it on the floor, “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you say my name.”

“Yeah?” Billy stares as Steve walks back to where he’s standing by the countertop, his eyes straying to Steve’s waistband hanging low on his hips before moving back up.

“Yeah…” Steve stops in front of him. “I wonder how loud I can make you say it…”

Billy gasps then loses the ability to make words when Steve drops his pants. Then Steve hooks his fingers in the waistband of Billy’s sweatpants, a question in the tilt of his head. Billy nods in agreement, and Steve slides his hands around then down, over the curve of his ass, fingers splayed, before he pulls Billy’s pants and underwear down.

“Wanna shower with me?” Steve asks and that shakes Billy out of his trance.

He steps out of his clothes and slides his hands around Steve’s waist, pulling him up, and laughs happily when Steve curses even as he wraps his arms and legs around him.

“Baby, I wanna do everything with you.”

He steps under the warm spray with his precious cargo, pressing him into the wall and finding his mouth again.

*****

Please look forward to the lovely/wonderful/amazing work from the next contributor, @harringrovest.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #dragonflylady77 #harringrove relay race #coffee shop au #college au #enemies to lovers #there was only one bed #all of the tropes #because why not

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kining-the-evil · 1 year

Text

All I Have Left ch1/?

Summary: you were in love with Randy, you had a life plan with him. But after his death, you cut out everyone in your life. It’s not until you take custody of his niece and nephew that you begin to live life again.

An: this is going to be platonic/motherly!reader to the twins. The idea has been bounced around my head for a couple of days, so I wanted to try it out

It’s not overly long, but if I continued with the idea it would have been way to long. So I may write a part two

Scream Taglist: none currently. Let me know if you want added

Scream Masterlist All Masterlists

“I think it will be a girl.”

You glanced up at Randy when you heard his words. The two of you were in the middle of a movie night in his dorm room, you tucked into his side while his arm was wrapped around you. He wasn’t even looking at you, making you wonder if you were hearing things.

“What?”

“Our first kid, I think she’ll be a girl.” He further explained, looking down at you. The two of you had been talking the night before about life after college. You were high school sweethearts, and had talked about it plenty of times. He was going to major in film, and you psychology. You would live in Hollywood while starting your carriers, and once ready for a family you’d move to a close by suburb. A plan you had started making the summer before senior year. And last night, you’d talked about kids.

“You think so?”

“Absolutely,” he confirmed.

“What makes you so sure?” You asked while giggling slightly.

“A dad just knows,” he winked.

“Well, so does a mom and I think it will be a boy. Besides, it’s not like you’re currently a dad.” You poked his chest lightly, making him chuckle.

“I’d love to have a son, and I’d love him,” he reached down to grab your left hand and place a kiss on the engagement ring on your finger. “But I’ll get my little girl. Don’t care how many times I have to fuck you.”

“Wow, so noble,” you teased as he pulled you to straddle his lap. “What would you name her?” He had clearly put thought into this, and you wanted to know how far his mind had gotten.

“Mindy.”

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

That night was only a week before Randy was killed, and every night after you wished you were dead yourself. Everything made you angry. Seeing Sidney or Dewey made you angry, and even thinking about Gale and her stupid book made you angry. Seeing the school made you angry, and the police made you angry.

So you dropped out of school. You cut people off, distanced yourself, and moved back to Woodsboro. You only went to town when you had to, and worked at home in any way you could. You didn’t need a tone of money, just enough to live in your small house alone. Sidney had tried to reach out a few times, but eventually got the hint that you didn’t want to see her. The only person you were slightly civil with was Randy’s sister, Martha.

She worked at one of the stores you went to often, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to hate the women. You’d known her for years, being friends with Randy for years before going out. So when you saw her at the store, you said hi. If she asked you to come over for a drink or dinner once in a while, you said yes. And when she got pregnant, you promised to be as involved with the kids life as she needed.

“Please…” Chad whined, giving you his best puppy eyes. You had to hand it to the seven year old, he was pretty good at it.

“No, your mom said you’ve been wearing them for the past three nights. They need washed,” you attempted to reason with the boy. Which didn’t work in the slightest.

“Mom said she ‘gave up on that fight’” Mindy spoke up. She had already changed into her pjs, quickly complying when you promised a treat during the movie. Martha and her husband were out for the night, and you had offered to watch your niece and nephew (technically godchildren but as Martha said ‘you would have become their aunt’).

“Enough,” you scolded her before turning back to Chad. “I know for a fact you have more then one pair of train pjs. Get one of your others.” You were at a standstill, a staring contest with a seven year old. You were pointing towards the dresser, and you were determined to win this fight.

“Fineeeeee,” he stretched the word before walking towards the dresser. “But can you wash them for tomorrow night?”

You agreed, knowing Martha would appreciate the clothes at least being clean. You helped the two kids get ready for bed before sending them down stairs to pick a movie. You grabbed some more of their clothes, starting a load of laundry. The sound of arguing drew you downstairs, but you stoped at the fire place. A small shrine that had been set up for Randy. You still didn’t know how to feel about it. Every time you saw a photo of him it reminded you of finding him in that van, but at the same time it reminded you of whatever goofy memory surrounded the photo.

You were pulled from your thoughts again when the arguing got louder. You were sure you knew what it was about. Mindy was attempting to get Chad to agree to whatever movie she wanted to watch. He mate as of splitting it up you grabbed the two bags of candy, one of each of their favorite, and walked into the room to flop onto the couch. This caught both of their attention.

“What are you doing?” Mindy was practically glaring at you, and you had to do your best to hold in your laugh.

“Well, i was going to give you guys this for during the movie, but you are busy arguing so I figured I’d eat it myself.” A horrified look crossed their faces at your words, and it took minutes for them to chose a movie and to climb onto the couch with you. They each stole their respected candy, giggling as though they had tricked you into handing it over.

It was almost 2 in the morning when you woke up to the sound of the house phone ringing. Chad and Mindy were up in bed, and you must have fallen asleep while waiting for their parents. You blindly reached over to grab the phone, pulling it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Is this the Meeks-Martin household?”

“Ya, can I take a message?” You yawned a bit through your sentence, trying to wake up a bit more.

“Y/n? Its Dewey.” You sighed lightly at the man’s words. You did your best to be civil with the man, it wasn’t his fault that your worst memories in life included him.

“What can I do for You officer Riley?” You questioned.

“I um, I’m calling for Woodsboro memorial Hospital. I have some bad news.” You quickly sat up, suddenly not so tired. “Joel and Martha Meeks-Martin were in a car accident. They um- they were dead before getting to the hospital.”

“W-what?” You whispered, unsure of what else to say. Your entire body felt numb, the same way you had felt when sitting at the police station after Randy. A feeling that made everything feel fake, like in a dream.

“I’m so sorry y/n,” Dewey’s voice practically whispered through the phone. “But we need you to come down and identify the body’s, as well as decide what will happen with the kids.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing tears not to fall. What felt like your only two friends left were gone, and you had to tell their kids what had happened.

“Y/n? Are you ok-“

“Do you need me tonight or can it wait until morning?” You cut him off.

“Tomorrow is Fine. Listen, if you need anything at all-“

“I’ll see you then Dewey.” You quickly hung up the phone, setting it on the couch next to you. You let your head fall to your hands, a small sob being let out. You would cry tonight, morn your friends tonight, and tomorrow you would be whatever Mindy and Chad needed you to be.

#scream #scream 1996 #scream 2 #scream (2022)#randy meeks x reader #randy meeks #mindy meeks martin #mindy meeks martin x motherly!reader #chad meeks martin #chad meeks martin x motherly!reader #motherly!reader #not a request

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cookiesupplier · 4 months

Text

Every Rose Has It's Thorns - Part Eleven

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc (Talia)

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, panic attack, stalking.

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. Not that it is any easier for the soulmate in question. Thus is the fate for Ricky and Talia. Sooner or later, however, life is bound to collide, but what will happen when it does?

author’s note: Unbeta, reader beware.

tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @jordynyingling0219 @faceless-mirror @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747 @witchyweeb34 @black-damask1999 @casangel1986

Please ask if you'd like to be tagged, to this story or in general.

Coming home from this tour was supposed to be the most amazing feeling in the world, at least, he had hoped it would be. Instead, Ricky had come home to find that Grace was there, in his house, waiting for him.

She hadn’t left yet.

He’d let himself into his house, to find that she was still there and, yes, naturally considering everything that he’d been going through in the past two weeks, he’d gotten pissed. Could he call it trespassing when technically they’d been living together for the past two years? However, the house was in his name, and he’d told her he wanted her to pack her things and be gone by the time the tour was over. The screaming had started immediately, but it had quickly turned into her begging him to hear her out when he picked up the phone and started calling the police, asking if he wanted her gone so badly, why hadn’t he even announced their break up on their socials yet?

He’d stared at her in complete and utter shock.

So that was it. Whatever was spinning through that head of hers, she was clinging to the shred of hope that he still wanted her. Because he wanted his privacy, and not to smear his personal life all over the internet and what felt like the biggest, stupidest mistake of his life, airing it out for all his fans and the trolls to see, she was taking it as what, a sign he still wanted her in his life?

No.

Not going to happen.

He’d called the cops. Had her escorted off the property, not arrested considering she left, but she got a warning, and a report would be filed, he asked for a copy of that.

While she gave his keys back then and there, he got a locksmith in to change the locks to his house the next day, every last fucking one. The alarm company was booked in for next week to do an upgrade, he wasn’t taking chances, he was done. Coming home to find her in the house. Any hope that her leaving him alone and their break up could be amicable after she’d already proved willingness to stalk him, was gone.

He wasn’t above a restraining order if she tried anything else. That was why he’d asked for a copy of the police report.

It was safe to say, that he had been looking forward to everyone being there, the barbecue had become the tradition for them to relax rather than being confined on the bus, even Ryan and Justin stayed the extra few days with their partners so they could come before heading home. A bit of a respite in a way, a detox from the tour. Ricky thought of the barbecue as a reminder of how they didn’t actually want to throttle each other, and he had a feeling that this time around, the reminder was about how none of them wanted to throttle him.

He knew he hadn’t been easy to live with the last couple of weeks.

Rick hadn’t even told anyone what had happened when he got home. Wasn’t like he wanted a fucking pity party or anything either, he just wanted all of this to be done with. So, the plan was simple, he’d go to Chris’ parents like he usually did post-tour run, he’d enjoy the afternoon, have some barbecue, eat some pie, and laugh with everyone else. Right? Exactly, simple.

So, why didn’t it feel so simple when he turned up to find out that Vinny and Ava had bought Talia? Chris pulled him aside as soon as he got there with a hushed remark, shit shit shit, apparently Ava convinced Talia to come to visit because she was Ava’s family, and wanted her to get to know Vinny, the way Vinny wanted her to get to know his family. Alright, he understood that he did, but where the hell did that leave him?

“And he had to bring her today? What the fuck Chris! As if I don’t have enough.. Grace was still at my fucking house the other day!”

Rick’s fingers ran through his hair. He was done, he was so fucking done with all of this shit, and Chris, who had glanced back out to the back, making sure everything was going fine, and that tidbit had gotten all of his attention, he looked livid.

“Tell me you called the police?”

“Of course! I filed a report, escorted her off the premises, locks have been changed, I’m upgrading security, the whole nine yards.”

He remembered what Chris had been through, they all remembered. None of them were going to forget any time soon. Rick still felt sick thinking about it, some of the shit that could have happened if everything had gone sideways, but he’d been lucky, and Rick knew all the precautions now, before things got bad, the moment he was home, they were done.

“Restraining order, man, now. I know you probably don’t feel like it, but I do, man I do, and maybe not for your benefit, but,”

Chris glanced back to the house,

“It might not be you that needs it.”

Right paused, there was just one problem with that, if he was the one getting the restraining order, it wouldn’t protect her, without claiming her as his soulmate. There was no fucking way he was going to do that. That was legally binding shit and no fucking way.

“No way, no way in hell. As long as Grace stays away, I’m not pushing for legal action unless I have to Chris, she’s never tried to hurt me. I’m taking precautions, she crosses the line, I’ll do something, I have the report, I’ll get the forms, I’ll be ready if I need to be, that's it.”

Chris frowned, it was obvious he didn’t like the answer, but what could he do as Ricky was already walking back through the house towards the backyard where everyone else was, having fun out in the back by the pool. Hearing Vinny call out to Rick happily when he saw him come out, he sighed, fucking hell Rick, Chris just hoped he knew what he was doing. No, he knew he didn’t know what he was doing, he just thought he did. Chris shook his head, and followed Rick back to the party, considering at least warning Vinny, it was about time he upgraded his security too, he could frame it as for Ava’s benefit.

At least Ava had given her fair warning about packing some swimwear for them both when asking for the extra gear, not that she’d told her that it was going to be for some big group get-together. Just swimwear. She’d packed the bikini that she knew Ava loved and would show off for Vinny, something she’d already seen him enjoy, the man’s eyes almost fell out of his head seeing her in them, and it left almost nothing to the imagination, not to mention showcasing that soulmate tattoo, perfectly. Talia had laughed softly at the way Vinny had walked beside her, hand in hand, man, he was already smitten with her.

She enjoyed watching them together, it was a night to see them work out. Even if it made her sad, knowing that the odds of Ava coming home were unlikely, but that was okay. Talia could visit, she had nothing against being long-distance besties. She had friends all over the world.. She had friends all over the place. It was fine. Still, he was on tour constantly who knew what would happen, who knew what she would decide, Talia knew what she would, though. Her family wouldn’t hold her back, and Ava only had three people who would encourage her to move here. She’d tell her to be here in a fucking heartbeat. Especially with how she was with Vinny already.

Talia, however, made sure she had a cover-up for her swimsuit, bringing a wrap-around maxi-style dress, it was nice and breezy under the sun. This way she could get away with looking nice and relaxed, but also still enjoy the day out by the pool, not wearing anything thick and heavy to cover herself. Covering herself, that was what she wanted. To hide from one man's glares, to hide from the wordless accusations, from the actual accusations. She had enough of all of it, both in reality and in her mind, over the past two weeks.

Talia found herself sitting with some of the women, talking about different things they’d gotten up to while the boys were on tour. Justin was the only other member of the band other than Vinny with a soulmate it would seem, they were married, and she was already trying to talk Talia into designing a new tattoo for her, even talking about including her in the girls weekend she was planning that involved flying them all out to Florida next tour. In the end, despite the thrill of meeting her, and the hopefulness of new friends here, Talia just shook her head, she wasn’t a band girl, she was just family of one, she didn’t count. Still, she had just assured her that didn’t matter, she was inviting her, and that was the important part.

Talia eventually agreed to at least consider it. The last thing she needed was to make plans and have them thrown in her face. As excited as she was right now to meet everyone, she had yet to come face to face with the one person she knew could so easily affect her, much to her dismay, rip her open and make her feel like she could bleed out without even saying a single word. She thought about that fact all morning, and that every good feeling came with this ominous shadow in the back of her mind.

She never used to resent the soulmate tattoo, she never used to hate it. It used to be something she just accepted, and lived with. It was just another tattoo, another picture on her skin like all the rest. Now it has become something else. Meeting Ricky, feeling the judgement, that hate in his eyes, had changed everything.

There he was. Looking over to the house as she heard Vinny call out to him, he did not look happy, then again, she hadn’t seen him once since she’d met him when he did. Sighing, she missed that, that smile, that happiness in him. Rick was, he was beautiful, especially when he was happy. Even when he was pissed, just knowing that it was her being here that upset him…

Why else would he have reason to be when he’d only just arrived

Looking down at her glass, she swallowed, only to have Ava nudge her shoulder, shake her head, no. Easier said than done, she couldn’t stop blaming herself, but, she could push it down, reminding herself, it wasn’t her fault. This wasn’t on her and Rick could go shove it blaming her. Lifting her cup to her lips she drank down the rest of her glass and finished her drink.

“I’m just going to get a refill.”

Anything to get out from under the eyes of everyone around her for the moment, especially Ava’s, she didn’t want to be watched while in Rick’s eyesight, not by Ava, she knew her too well. The others, she could put on a mask and be fine, Ava would know.

Instead of just going to get another drink from the table with all the food and drinks, she went inside, walking down the hall towards where she’d been told the guest bathrooms were earlier. She just needed some time to cool off, just needed a moment to think, think about anything but Ricky. She could do this, she could be here and not deal with him. It was just one day, one day of this trip dealing with being anywhere near him and then she could forget he was around. It wasn’t like she’d have to hang out with him all the time right? No, she was here for Ava, Vin, and his family.

In the bathroom, she splashed some water on her face, cooled off, and just breathed.

Considering how long she was in there, the was probably a slight chance she was hiding in there, just a little.. But when no one came in to bang on the door, Talia felt like she was safe. Sooner or later though she knew she had to come out sometime.. So she did. Sighing, she stepped out, closing the door behind her, only to find Ricky, in the hall. Why the hell was he there? She didn’t know, but the way he was looking at her knowingly, she guessed, maybe, he was waiting for her.

“About time, almost starting to wonder if you’d solved one of my problems and just fallen in.”

Her lips pressed together, swallowing heavily, biting off the retort, she didn’t want to make things difficult for Ava by ripping into one of Vin’s best friends, but she was tempted. Taking in a breath,

“Rick, obviously Ava and Vinny are doing well, this isn’t going to be a fleeting thing for them, so we’re going to have to find a way to at least be civil and get along.”

He smirked then, stepping towards her.

“Oh, I agree.”

His eyes flitted down to the tattoo on her neck, the rose, her soulmate mark, and without thinking, instinctually, her eyes flitted down to his neck just as he had to hers, to his tattoo. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen the same image in the mirror every day, the same rose, the same, but different, the way the tattoos around them marked them differently.

“You want to claim you’re my soulmate. Prove it.”

Prove it? She was supposed to think that he was willing to give her a chance, here? How the hell was she supposed to prove it? She’d never heard of a way to prove it.

“How?”

“Well, you suggested to Grace to get a fake tattoo.. Makes me wonder if you're willing to ensnare a famous soulmate once…”

Oh yes, Ricky was going there, he was wondering if implying that if she got that tattoo to trap him, she could be trying to trap other famous people too, tattoos hidden on her body under those clothes. His eyes swept down her body, plenty of her hidden by her cover-up dress, some of her tattoos exposed, the one down her leg, some of her arms, but most of her body was covered. He knew enough people out in the world had had their tattoos exposed just like he had, and dealt with people trying to fool them constantly…

Ricky would probably recognise them if he saw them, well, some of them.

His eyes met hers, those stormy blues…

“You want to prove you’re my soulmate. Strip.”

#motionless in white #miw #ricky olson #ricky horror #ricky olson fanfiction #ricky olson x ofc #original female character #soulmates #vinny mauro #fanfiction #miw band #rick olson #ricky horror olson #soulmate au #soulmate #tattoos #ricky olson fanfic #vinny mauro fanfic #fic: every rose has its thorns

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idontplaytrack · 29 days

Text

'Not Even In Your Top 5'

AJ Campos x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, coarse language

In which reader feels like she's never anyone's first choice. And AJ finds that ridiculous. Very ridiculous.

Enjoy this little drabble :D

Things have been rocky between you and AJ for the past couple weeks. Because of what you’ve been hearing about you from fellow students, you were upset. Maybe more than upset, so you were pushing AJ away. It was a reflex for you once you faced something like this- a switch flips in your brain and you just ignore the one person who loves you. You didn't want to hurt her like you were hurting yourself. But she kept staying by your side, causing you to push her away even harder. And as patient as AJ has been, she was bound to reach a breaking point, even if she didn't mean to.

You walked through the front doors of the school, trudging to your locker as you avoided eye contact with everybody in your path. All you could think of was how they were all talking about you behind your back. That's what every quiet conversation, every pointing finger and every chuckle was to you- someone judging you.

When the last bell rang for the day, AJ immediately went to wait for you outside your classroom. “AJ, what are you doing here?”

“To talk to you. You can’t keep avoiding me.”

“I can try.”

She lets out a quiet sigh, “y/n, please talk to me.”

“I can’t do this.” You blurted out, pushing past your girlfriend and heading towards the exit. AJ however, wasn’t more then two feel behind you with each step you took. Finally, she’s had enough and grabbed your wrist. “Sit down- we need to talk.” AJ said firmly.

“Not here.” You replied quietly, defeated. She got what you meant and took you to her car instead, and you sat in the front with her. She drives away from the school, and towards her home. Once the both of you were in the privacy of her room, she asked you what had been going on with you and you just felt the words getting caught in your throat- you had no clue how to verbalise it to her.

“It’s been two weeks, baby. This silent treatment or whatever it is…if you don’t talk to me, I can’t help you.” She started, sitting at her desk to give you some space since it’s been looking like you needed it. “Was it something I did? If I did anything to upset you, just tell me. Be straightforward with me.”

————

You inhaled shakily while fiddling with your thumbs, feeling the tears brim at your eyes…just as you’d expected. You hated confrontation, it always brings you to tears. Always have an always will. You never fail to feel like the other person’s first reaction would be to scream at you, just like your parents always did growing up at every little mistake.

“I’m sorry.” You told her tearfully, explaining to her as best as you could, how you’ve been feeling and what you’ve been feeling.

“It’s always been a problem for me…overthinking, feeling like everyone’s out to get me or judging me. Sometimes I feel like I’m not even in your top 5.”

“Oh, babe…” AJ exhales, licking her lips. She envelopes you in the hug, her initial frustration and bit of anger dies down quickly. “That’s ridiculous. You’re my favourite person- you’re my girl. Nothing and no one will ever change that for me. If anyone gives you crap, they’ll have to go through me first.”

You allowed yourself to chuckle, wiping away a couple of fallen tears. “Oh, God. Why am I like this? I thought I’d already got over this problem in therapy.”

“It’s okay, baby.” She kisses you sweetly on the lips, “You’re okay. Recovery’s never 100% linear, hm? Don’t go blaming yourself, now.”

“You literally saved me.”

“Don’t give me all the credit. You’ve done a lot of work yourself in therapy for months.” She clasps your hands in her own, giving them a squeeze.

“I know, I know.” You squeezed her hands in response, “I do owe part of it to you, though. So, thank you- I just wanted you to know that.” The conversation continued and took a lighthearted turn, much to both of your relief. You lay down on her chest and she was scratching your head mindlessly like you always loved.

“I think we should go on a date.” You mentioned.

“Oh, yeah?” She asks, grinning.

“Yep. It’s been awhile and spring break’s coming up- maybe it’s time we plan a little something.” You nodded.

“Okay. I’m sure we can think of something with all that time on our hands.” AJ smiled brightly, causing you to do the same.

#auli’i cravalho #aj campos #lgbtqia #queer #crush #hulu crush #hurt/comfort #fluff #angst #reader insert #x reader #wlw

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collectivecloseness · 11 months

Note

I have this angsty mess of ideas that I don't know how to put together but I'm gonna try to explain it. So like Steve has been in love with you since like forever and you become friends in season one blah blah blah you're inseparable etc, you have the tendency saving Steve's ass everytime but then you die while saving him and steve never got the chance to confess (not really that important but I guess it adds emotional damage idk) he obviously blames himself for it and everytime his phone rings he answers with the hope that for some fucked up reasons it's you and you're actually still alive but stuck in the upside down. Everyone is concerned about him bc it feels like he's slowly going crazy and is very much delusional.

Idk if that's like very long or makes no sense at all so sorry in advance, your eyes must be bleeding after reading this. :/

Robin being the one to always check on Steve after he loses you. She knew what you meant to Steve, most shifts mentioned you, and your recent interactions with Steve, most nights were him- were the both of them, talking on the phone about you. She loved the whole will they won’t they, and the puppy love gossip with Steve. Now she wished she’d pushed more, at least Steve would feel better if you’d known.

Robin’s learnt to be more open and vulnerable, since she’s been the one to look after Steve, being emotional and like a true friend, rather than snarky and quippy and teasing with him. She’s always coming in to check on him with her key to his house, pressing her hand on his shoulders each time she says hi, unless she’s rushing to comfort him again.

Robin tells him a few times “You know I said I can move in, or we could both move to our own place! I’m lonely! Besides, I love spending time with my best friend.” Robin’s been encouraging it. Her and Steve had breiefly passed the ideas before, before you, but she got the feeling back then they both badly would have liked it, living together, but neither wanted to be the first to come on too strong and vulnerable. It was different now. And Robin really didn’t want Steve to be lonely either. Besides, Robin came over to Steve’s literally every day she could anyway.

But to Steve, Robin wasn’t you. He still loves Robin, as her own person and his friend, he doesn’t compare you two at all. But Steve worried the constant company might make him go crazier than he already feels. It also wouldn’t allow for any of his unhealthier coping mechanisms. Steve would argue in his head, even crying or screaming himself to sleep, he wouldn’t be able to do anymore, but he’d done that in front of some of his friends anyways.

Robin, Nancy, Eddie, Dustin, all of his friends all worried about him. Max, Lucas and El had come over yesterday. Joyce makes sure to drop by a couple of times a week at least. Robin came every day, while the others did sometimes, varying in frequency. They knew Steve wasn’t healthy.

Sometimes, Steve whipped his head to the side, out of nowhere, or maybe with a small sound one of them picked up, from years of fear of monsters from other dimensions. But they knew it wasn’t Steve being scared of bumps in the night. It was because he thought he may have heard you. It was a glimmer of hope, just for a second, and they hated seeing it shatter each time.

Steve did worry about bumps in the night too. Steve worried about the next time he’d have to fight, no matter what it might be. Because this time, no one would come to save him.

You were always the first to come for him. You specifically sought Steve out first, checked on him first, he was always your first choice, the one you always checked on, the one you’d always save. You were with Steve for all his fuck ups. You’d seen him grow, and he knows you’d never judged him for his past once he actually got better. Not once. No one else had done that. But you also made Steve better. And he was still scared he won’t be as much now, without you.

But on the other hand, Steve wasn’t sure he really wanted anyone to save him next time. If the next time he dies saving the others, then whatever. He couldn’t save you. At least he could be with you then.

No one would be designated to check Steve first, to save him first, and that’s what he got. Steve always put himself in front of danger first, and now he’d lost you, there would be no one to save him. It was his price.

Steve wanted to go back straight after. He wanted to go back for you the next day, and the day after. To the place he’d left you. At the end of the week, he told Robin his plans, with his rucksack already on his back. And not only did she physically hold Steve to the floor, but she locked all the doors as she walkied Eddie and Nancy - not the kids, she knew when Steve was better, even now, he wouldn’t want the kids to see him like this - and Eddie had to bear hug Steve so he wouldn’t try to leave, while all of them gently tried to talk their friend down. They said it was a suicide mission! And that’s when Steve screamed “I DON’T CARE!” Trapped in his friends arms. Screaming those words not enough overemotionally, but too genuinely, that it really got them worried. Steve was still fighting to leave. He had collapsed into tears after that. He wanted to go and he meant it.

Nancy wanted to sedate him by that point, because she was too worried Steve would leave. But Robin put her foot down at that thought. It would create a super bad spiral, and Steve wouldn’t trust them, she knew they had to do something else! Luckily Robin thought of something. Mixed in with Steve’s yells at Eddie, Eddie trying to talk to Steve, and Nancy on edge and trying to not look as upset as she probably was while getting Robin to think of something else before she snapped.

Robin called the number she knew to, and soon afterwards, Joyce was entering Steve’s home with her own spare key. Joyce let Steve cry into her lap, and she stroked his back, talking when Steve wanted to, only lulling her own assurances when he didn’t, and just soothing Steve, until he fell asleep like that, in his room with her. Robin knew Steve wouldn’t fight Joyce to leave, or yell too much at her or anything. Steve had fallen asleep early in the afternoon, and Nancy didn’t even need to sedate him because he stayed asleep, luckily for the entire night. Joyce wouldn’t leave. She wanted to stay until morning, she didn’t want to leave Steve overnight, or at all right now.

Joyce even made breakfast the morning after, making sure to stay by Steve’s side because he’d always eat her cooking if she was there. And it was a sickly sweet feeling for everyone watching whenever that happened, because Steve would take a few bites and then finish his plate clean. But they knew he’d probably only had a few bites the day before, with how much he gorged on Joyce’s dishes when she was around to eat with him.

Robin stayed in bed with Steve most nights for sleepovers. That night Joyce had, which she’d done quite a few times. Nancy or Eddie had done it several times more, too. Sometimes Steve would say look, he really just wanted tonight alone. And if they trusted the way he said it, he got that. They understood sometimes he did need that. But Robin also hates leaving Steve alone, because she knows nights are worse for him (and in general as well). She didn’t want to be overbearing though, something friends when she was younger would stop being her friends for, but a trait she’d stopped shielding when she needed to be Steve’s open support. But to be honest, even if Steve couldn’t mourn as well if he wasn’t alone at night, those mostly seemed like mourning in the destructive ways.

Steve knew he was safe with Robin, or Nance, or Eddie, or Joyce there, from monsters, and from himself. Not that he was thinking of that last part, he was trying to convince them, but he wasn’t very good at stopping his brain from eating himself alive, because he didn’t feel like he wanted to stop. He wanted punishment.

At one point, after you’d died, Eddie had tried to give Steve something of yours, an item he got from your house when he went to visit your family. When he’d explored your now, forevermore, empty room. But Steve had a moment, and was mad that Eddie had ruined your shirt, forever tainting it with his smell, and his touch, and not leaving it the way you had the day you’d gone to meet Steve and the others. Steve had later apologised for freaking out on Eddie about it. Something Eddie casually waved his hand over, promising Steve never could be freaky, and saying it was okay, he was sorry too. Steve didn’t really want to think about anymore. That top still felt slightly tainted, no matter how ridiculous Steve knew it was. He just didn’t have much left of you, that was still untouched. That was yours, and had still last been touched, moved, adored, by you. So Robin didn’t bring Steve things from your house. She’d just tell him if she found something, if he wanted to look at it, or go over later. To which Steve would generally just nod at her.

Steve had had a few moments, but luckily, he’d had friends there every single time. No matter how different the moments were. If it was him spiralling, down dangerous paths for himself. Him accidentally spooking someone, maybe by lashing out, or just not having the energy to look after someone else, even if they were upset because of his crumbling. Including the ones, where Steve would adamantly deny the facts in front of him. It was like the first two days, Steve knew you were dead. And he always did, of course. The fact never left his soul. But after that things changed, and became slightly more of a purgatory, Steve always seemed even just a fraction hazy.

One time Robin had come back to Nancy crying, and Steve sobbing loud like a broken child on the floor. Steve had sworn it was you who had called. But he’d missed the call, running and slipping since he’d been in the shower when it rang. Nancy and Robin guessed he’d been thinking about you. And with a hand to his forehead between his wails on the floor, Robin knew he’d made the water too hot, again. Steve had tried to call back, but it wouldn’t work. And he yelled at Nancy for not picking up the phone, but that was only after she’d tried to gently remind him that it couldn’t be you. And then Steve had done everything to try and call back, almost breaking his phone till Nancy had wrestled it away from him. And when he realised he couldn’t, either call back, or call you, Robin hadn’t quite gotten through to him about it, Steve had collapsed into pained sobs, so distraught, and so unable to be taken out of his pain, that Nancy was sobbing too.

El had left inconsolable once, because Steve had asked multiples times if she could somehow contact you in the upside down. No one had realised, Steve had gotten El to agree one time, until she called Joyce crying because she couldn’t find you, and now she couldn’t get Steve to talk, he just had his head in his hands. But the next day, when El came to visit, with chocolates she always liked to give Steve since she heard they were good for making people happy, he’d apologised and she was herself quite easily again. Something Robin was very relieved with, knowing it would have wrecked Steve if he thought he’d hurt one of the kids.

Dustin had been turned away by Eddie before, on days Steve said he didn’t want to see anyone, which if he said that exactly, made people come over to check if he was okay. And on a day Steve wasn’t doing very well, and had Nancy and Robin bandaging his hands up because he’d punched a mirror, swearing he saw you in the reflection in a blink of his eye, and thinking for that split second maybe it was a gateway to the upside down. Although they were pretty relieved he realised that wasn’t the case straight away, no one wanted Dustin to see Steve like that, least of all Steve. But even Dustin’s visits, as the encouraging little brother, didn’t always bring a smile to Steve’s face, even a fake one he couldn’t muster. Some days, there was just little that could help.

Robin thought maybe Steve only sometimes thought this, even if there was a 0.5% chance always in the back of his head, that maybe, somehow, you were still alive somewhere. It wouldn’t matter where, because then Steve would find you. Robin wished more than anything they had your body, mostly for you, but also for Steve, and for all your friends and family. But she wasn’t going to risk anyone, to go on a suicide mission. And she didn’t want anyone else to leave Steve either. Steve wouldn’t always bring it up. But occasionally there’d be flare ups, where Steve would go on about how you could be out there. Robin was the one who’d decided she’d never flat out disagree with Steve if he got like that. He always needed one person he felt like he could always trust. So even though she never encouraged it, even if for the first week, and now she still had that 0.4% chance in the back of her mind, she’d more try to go through why Steve thought that, and be by his side as the others tried to explain.

But Robin felt at least slightly successful with every little breakthrough she and Steve had together. She was normally there for his, even if she wasn’t the one helping him get to that point anyways. But the biggest breakthrough came a night, where the day leading up to it had been pretty normal.

Keith had actually been very generous with bereavement leave for Steve, even indulging Robin every time Steve called the store in tears, panicking, and needing Robin back immediately. Today had been okay. None of them were good. But she’d come over about 9am, Eddie calling right before he knew she’d leave, to say he was dropping off McDonald’s breakfast for them both just before ten, because he had to go help his uncle with some errands today.

Robin had helped set out a fresh set of clothes for Steve, ones Nancy had left in a pile in his room yesterday afternoon when she’d been with him. Robin smiled at her little post it notes Nancy left around, for Steve, and for his friends around the house. But Robin setting out Steve’s clothes always helped kick him up just a notch enough to get out of bed and go shower. Eddie had stayed for fifteen minutes, and Steve had even watched this time as he and Robin threw hash browns off each other’s faces. Steve sometimes found it hard to watch, when other people were smiling. Robin had been really proud of him today.

Then Steve even picked out what they should have for lunch, and although Robin wasn’t sure Steve could exactly be craving a salad, she was still really happy he’d suggested something, and got to work on Nancy’s refrigerated Tupperware boxes and groceries. Nancy liked to cut things up when she had the time. Robin was pretty slow no matter what she had to cook, because otherwise she was clumsy, and no one liked to focus on something and leave Steve alone. Nancy probably chopped things up yesterday when Joyce came to visit Steve as well.

The one time Robin cut her finger when cooking for Steve with Eddie, Steve had had a full blown panic attack, but he also either thought it was your blood he was seeing, or remembered yours. Steve threw the knife to the side, grabbing Robin’s wrists and panicking, until she soothed him into remembering where he was, and who he was with, and that she was unharmed, and when Steve was back, Eddie could take him away for a second while Robin found the newly restocked first aid kit. The other times she’d hurt herself since, she’d hidden them from Steve’s sight very quickly.

Steve had picked between a variety of activities Robin suggested after lunch, and two person board and card games it had been. Everyone had been buying or donating games to the Harrington household, even the kids had been giving theirs over. So Steve never was bored of any of the games, and he could play them.

Hopper and Karen had actually both taught Steve how to play solitaire, when Mike and El had dropped off some more game to donate. A joke even Steve gave a breathy chuckle at when Eddie said there two people to explain the most famous one player game. But Robin was glad Steve might have something to do to take his mind off things when alone. She knew focusing could be hard sometimes right now for him, so she got that they both tried to explain the game. Also, Karen and Hopper did talk over each other quite a bit in explanation.

But after that, Robin had whipped something quick together for dinner, and Steve had stayed to talk with her in the kitchen the entire time. He even got out glasses and some soda. Even though Robin did most of the talking, Steve took part, which was good. But also, Steve liked talking with Robin. Because she’d talk so much, and be so passionate about what she was saying, he didn’t even need to say much to be part of the conversation, and it was something about his best friend he really appreciated at the moment, even though he used to joke about never getting a word in edgeways. Eddie was a bit the same.

Steve held the remote as they channel surfed, sitting on the couch together with their meals on their laps, since neither of them really liked the silence while eating, and Robin was pretty talked out after finishing her story in the kitchen.

But when Steve had flicked through two news channels, he froze as he immediately recognised the scene in front of him. It was from a romance film you loved, about two thirds of the way through. Steve recognised it from the first frame, from the first note of its score, as he turned over the channel.

Robin recognised it too, although she hadn’t watched it fully, and she hadn’t watched it nearly as many times as Steve had with you. She tried to keep her face blank as she looked to Steve, only a light questioning, curious expression, to see how he was feeling, before she let any of her own thoughts and feelings make him spiral. But Steve simply said “Gotta put something on, the food.” and picked up his fork, turning the volume up enough to cover any chewing sounds, like he’d done for Robin since the first time they watched tv and ate together. That had been long before he lost you.

Steve had finished quickly, but that was just a few scenes before the most important part of the romance film. The confession scene. And Steve was crying before it had even started.

Tears streamed down his face, the two leads finally starting to open up, and explain how they were really feeling. His eyes not even brown, but looking black, so big and red ridden, his cheeks drowned. Robin felt her heart hammering watching Steve crushed again, but she tried to be the best friend she possibly could, as she was always learning to now. Robin reached just a little for the remote on the coffee table, eyes questioning on Steve. But he turned to her and shook his head, so she leaned back and kept the movie on. Steve watched the film, as Robin watched both it and him. Scooting even closer, so their sides were pressed together, as Steve continued to cry. And then, even Robin was tearing up. Especially as the scene continued. And Robin wrapped her arm around Steve’s waist, her other holding his closest hip, and they both quietly sobbed watching the love confession scene, of your favourite romantic movie you’d watched a thousand times.

Just a scene you never got to live out in your young life. A scene Steve never gave you.

Steve turned to Robin as the couple shared their first kiss, the happy score coming on as the confession was over, it all goes well, and with the way Steve’s shoulders are shaking and his chest is heaving, Robin knows he needs her. She immediately opens her arms, pulling Steve in who sobs heartily into her shoulder, all her shirts used to having snot and tears and spit on them now. And she cries too, quieter than Steve, but still all the same, as she rocks him, holding him close through his heart break, through his loss, through his pain, as Steve cries loud into his best friend.

Steve mumbles everything he’s said a thousand times over. How he’s lost you. How he needs you. How you can’t be gone. That Steve wants you. That you’re dead. And that word hits hard. That word took him a while to say, after the second day of screaming it.

And when Steve pulls back, and Robin holds him still, Steve looks deep into his best friends eyes, and he shakes as he tells her the one thing he still hasn’t said yet. “I loved them.”

And Robin rubs her hands up and down Steve’s arms, as she smiled so sadly, and wept so dearly. “I know.”

Steve hiccuped, and a small groan left him. Robin still smiling sadly, still stroking him. Steve looks down, but not a lot, and Robin can always tell Steve’s thoughts, even if it’s gotten harder now. Steve just wants to think.

“How did you?” He asks, sniffling, and swallowing.

Did you know too? Maybe if Robin knew... maybe you did too. Steve just wanted you to know. He should have given you that. But maybe if you knew... even if you didn’t feel the same way, maybe you knew somebody loved you, maybe you knew he saw you just like you did him, before you were stolen.

“Well first of all, you were very romantic, lover boy, always talking about them, always filling the world with your golden thoughts about them.”

Steve liked the way Robin spoke. He thought maybe she’d picked some stuff up from Eddie too. Even knowing his loving thoughts about you had been spoken into the world you’d been living in... even if it wasn’t the one your body was in now, it gave him just a flicker of hope. A bite less of guilt.

“And...” Robin faltered now. He hands falling to Steve’s wrists, and he looked up more inquisitive now.

“And they talked about their crush on you. It’d only been a couple of days before... into the whole upside down thing. Otherwise I’d have manoeuvred you two into each other as soon as I knew, even if I had to trick you and lock you dinguses in a room or something. But that’s all y/n talked about those days.

Steve sucked in air. People didn’t say your name much anymore. Probably scared of his reaction, but Steve missed it. He needed people to bring you up, to remember you, to say your name.

“All they talked about was how they’d been in love with you for years, but recently it was too much to bear, and they just had to tell you. I told them to go for it, that I thought you might realllly like them back! But, y/n wanted to wait to tell you after we saved the world.”

Robin looked up at Steve. He was still crying, and she was joining him again. Her hands squeezed his wrists, and Steve’s knees turned to face Robin those few centimetres more, leaning warmly against her own. “And I agreed. And I wanted to wait until you brought it up again. Until you said again, that you loved them, like you used to tell me every day.”

Robin had hoped it would be less painful that way. While Steve wished it had been you he’d been telling it to every day instead.

“And... was it the right thing to do?” Robin gasps for air with her sob, shaking under Steve now.

And his breaths were gasping, his best friends starting to mirror, as his head shook up and down. “Yeah... it was.”

Robin threw her arms around Steve again, and he moaned as he held her back, so so tightly. Gripping onto Robin’s shoulders like he’d never have to let go again, as Robin nearly scrambled on top of his legs. Both of them crying open mouthed into each others shoulders. Teeth and spit and tears latched on. Neither of the best friends caring about being any semblance of perfect, and not wrecked, not when they were with each other. And they held each other so tight, so hard, as if the grief in their hearts was a magnet, pushing them even closer, but Steve and Robin never wanted to let go of each other, to help the burden of that grief.

Steve and Robin missed you, so much.

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captainkirkk · 1 year

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

BNHA

bloody, but unbowed by redrobin1989

“I’m sure you all have a cause that means something to you, something you want to help change." Aizawa said, addressing the class. "For the next few days, I want you to think about what it is you believe in and do a short presentation for the class on Friday."

It's Advocacy Week for Yuuei's hero students and it gives Midoriya Izuku a lot to think about about what kind of hero he wants Deku to be.

DC (Batfamily)

The Fishbowl by LordLuxury

Dick’s goal for Thanksgiving (code named Operation F.I.S.H.): A family outing to the aquarium.

It feels achievable - everyone has been getting along better lately, Jason is spiraling closer, Cass is coming home. But there is a lot of unspoken hurt in every direction, and Dick’s own position in the family is shakier than ever since Bruce returned.

If Dick wants to realize his dream of family bonding, there will have to be many painful conversations between all parties. Dick’s own secrets will need to surface, the ones he has long kept submerged, the ones he will fight to sink forever.

(Or: Where Bruce is just a bit darker, even less emotionally available, and treats everyone a little worse, and how they all fix their family anyway.)

family helps family by RedHoodie19

Tim never learned how to swim.

Being slung over Red Hood’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes as the crime lord walked toward the Gotham docks seemed like a good time to learn, though.

Whumptober 2021 prompt #11 - drowning.

Stranger Things

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting. by badpancake

It’s the first time in a while that he doesn’t know what comes next. He’s dove into the water hundreds of times. Screamed as his flesh was torn apart, heard Master of Puppets in the distance and held back tears. Felt Max’s cold, small hand in his as she laid in the hospital bed. There are things that always happen, no matter how hard he tries: El doesn’t arrive in time. Eddie dies. Max is put in a coma.

Steve fails. They lose.

“Steve, how many loops have you been through?”

His head is nodding, and his eyes are watery, and Eddie has approached him like a spooked animal.

“I lost count.”

AKA: The one where Steve Harrington is stuck in a time loop, and Eddie Munson is really fucking hard to save, or: fuck Volume 2, these bitches are in love.

it's his party (and i'll fall if i want to) by formosus_iniquis

“Who invited us to this party anyway?”

"Well I invited you," the ‘you should know this already dingus’ hangs in the air, not needing to even be said, "and Steve invited me."

"Steve?" She nods, but even death couldn't stop him now,

"Harrington? Steve Harrington? King Steve? Steve "the Hair" Harrington? Steve "Big House, No Parents" Harrington? Steve "Sex God" Harrington?"

"I am certain you made at least those last two up. Yes, Steve "Lady Killer" Harrington invited me to his party."

"Are we about to be Carrie'd?"

hometown blues by pukner

The quarantine over a Post-Vecna Hawkins has been provisionally lifted, allowing family to come home and visit those who didn't leave even after the world got cracked open.

Which is how Gareth Emerson keeps running into Steve Fucking Harrington and hearing a dead man on the radio. Dorothea Harrington comes home only to find her house filled with strangers and aforementioned dead man. And Vickie Summers is getting swept off her feet by Robin Buckley.

Meanwhile, Steve and Eddie continue to be the Most Insufferable Couple In Hawkins.

the secret i have learned by Crykea

It takes some new additions to the party for the gang to realize that something has been off with Steve for quite a while now. They help him together and, in doing so, strengthen themselves as a family. Steve lets himself be cared for, remembers important people from his past, and finally allows himself to move on in some of the ways he never thought he could.

#happy saturday everyone #weekly fic round up #my posts #fic recs #stranger things #dc recs #bnha recs

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jerzwriter · 9 months

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With a care in this world...

Based on this ask ("sleeping in a hammock together") from @annoyingmillenialnewbie. As with all my requests, I apologize for being so late! I was really missing Eli and Zoe, so I was so happy to have this little fic to do. I hope you enjoy it!

Book: Wake the Dead

Pairing: Eli Sipes x F!MC (Zoe Rivera)

Rating: General

Category: Fluff with a little angst

Summary: The summer heat is taking its toll on the colonists, and Zoe is no exception. Delighted when a cooler day arrives, Zoe decides to enjoy a little time outdoors, but Eli isn't pleased.

Words: 1044

A/N: Participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge - but I improvised a little - instead of stargazing, it's skygazing. If Dani will alow it. :)

Summer had become Zoe’s least favorite season. If the increased zombie activity wasn’t bad enough, merely surviving in the oppressive heat made every day more of a challenge. The past week had been so brutal that Shannon advised only essential duties could be performed outdoors. Heat exhaustion at Olympus was becoming prevalent, and she didn’t want to see it elevate to heat stroke.

When they woke up to cooler temperatures this morning, the colonists rejoiced. Everyone except Troy that is. Zoe attempted to wake him up at the crack of dawn. The two of them were scavaging for supplies today, and as she told her immovable friend, the sooner they left, the sooner they’d be home. Then he’d have the first crack at the showers and the vanilla pudding the Angel planned on making today.

True to her word, they were home early, and Troy rushed inside to claim his rewards. But Zoe was in no hurry. She had been cooped up for too many days, and the shaded hammock Minna had recently built was calling her name.

She hopped in, stretched her arms above her head, then laid back and peered at the perfect blue sky peeking through the lush green leaves. After a cleansing breath, she gently rocked herself back and forth. She wouldn’t dislike summer so much if it were always like this, she thought as she fell half-asleep.

While Zoe enjoyed her rest, Eli was busy collecting water from the stream behind the compound. With two large buckets filled, it was time to head back, and he couldn’t be happier. This marked his fifth and, thankfully, final trip of the day. Even though it was cooler, it was still too warm for backbreaking work like this. A small smile formed on his lips when he saw the lodge in the distance, but that smile faltered as soon as he spotted Zoe alone on the hammock. He called a young colonist over and handed him the buckets, then rushed in her direction.

She looked so peaceful and adorable that he almost considered letting her sleep. But not when her safety was an issue. She was obviously safe, but his mind couldn’t stop racing as he approached her, and his heartbeat quickly followed.

“Zoe! Wake up!”

Zoe’s eyes remained shut, though an impish little grin spread on her face.

“Mmm... jealous?” she yawned. “You could have signed up for scavaging first thing in the morning, then you’d already be taking a nap, too.”

“Zoe! I’m serious,” he said, shaking the hammock. “What are you thinking sleeping out here alone!! You know better than that!”

“Relax,” she replied, sitting upright. “I do know better. But it’s the middle of the afternoon, and the perimeter is being guarded.”

“Yes, on the perimeter... but you’re not on the perimeter.”

“I’m not exactly alone. Shanon has the children on a nature hunt right over there,” she pointed a short distance away. “I’m sure I would have heard the screams if we had any drone activity.”

“They’re still too far away!”

To make a final point, Zoe pulled her hunting knife from her hip pocket in two seconds flat. “I also have this.”

“Which would have been very helpful after a drone already attacked you.”

Zoe Rivera was nothing if not stubborn, and under normal circumstances, she would have defended her point all day. But she also knew Eli better than anyone, and she noticed the terror in his eyes.

“Baby, I’m OK,” she whispered, patting the space beside her. “Come, sit by me.”

Eli settled next to her, and she wrapped her arm around his shoulder and gently kissed his cheek.

“I know you worry about me, hon. But look, I’m OK. I’m right here.”

Eli’s eyes stayed focused on the ground as he tried to center himself, pushing memories from the past out of his mind.

“I know,” he said with a pained voice. “But it takes just a minute, Zoe, and I can’t bear to think...”

“Hey,” she held him closer. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Eli. I understand, I really do. While we face a certain amount of risk daily... you’re right... We don’t have to invite more. If it makes you feel better, I won’t nap outside alone anymore.”

Eli turned to her, his rough hand pushing her hair gently behind her ear, then cupping her cheek in his palm. “I hate to ask that of you. I know how much you enjoy it... and it’s not as if we have a lot of things that bring us joy...”

“That’s not true,” she smiled. “As long as we have each other, I have all the joy I need.”

He leaned in and closed the space between them, his lips meeting hers with a soft, tender kiss. His arms encircled her so tight Zoe nearly lost her breath.

“Uh, Baby. If you want me around, you probably shouldn’t asphyxiate me,” she teased.

Eli loosened his grip. “I’m sorry for overreacting, but I can’t imagine losing you, Zo.”

“I know,” she grinned. “Why don’t we go inside? We can both take a nap in our bed.”

“I’m really not that tired,” he said, to her great disappointment. “But, how about I lay on the hammock with you. I’ll stay awake while you get a little rest in.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Lying here holding you isn’t exactly a sacrifice,” he chuckled.

“Then fine,” she said, pushing him back and nearly causing the hammock to topple. As Zoe’s laughter filled the air, Eli steadied them with an exasperated sigh.

“Stop pretending you’re mad at me,” she said, snuggling into him.

Eli kissed the top of her head. “You know I can’t stay mad at you for long. Now, close your eyes and get some rest. I’ll make sure you’re up in time to get ready for dinner.”

“That sounds like a plan,” she said with a yawn.

Then Zoe drifted off into a peaceful sleep; Eli peered at the bright blue sky, peeking through the lunch leaves above, and he smiled. Loving someone always comes with the risk of loss and pain; it’s unavoidable. But at long last, he had something that made it all worthwhile, and he knew just how lucky he was.

@choicesmonthlychallenge @openheartfanfics

Tagging in seperate blog

#choices fanfic #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #wake the dead #wake the dead choices #choices the stories you play #eli sipes #eli sipes x f!mc #choices fic writers creations #choices monthly challenge #cfwc fics of the week #fic requests

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allthefandomthings55 · 1 month

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Life in the Limelight

Chapter 6

Spencer’s POV

As I drove to work, I had a smile on my face the entire time. Sure it was 4 A.M. but I had just had one of the best nights with a girl, woman, that I really like and who really likes me. She likes me enough to know that I’m a technophobe, but gets me an IPhone anyways just to send me pictures of her. She likes me enough to know that I’m a technophobe, but gets me an IPhone anyways just so she can have my location to make sure I’m safe.

As I pull into the parking garage, I quickly wipe the smile off of my face. Y/N and I have agreed to keep our relationship a secret not only for my sake, but for hers too. She has explained that if I see her on TV and she says that she doesn’t have a boyfriend, that is just to keep the facade up. I fear about this because I know, from the past few weeks, that JJ, Emily, and Penelope are huge fans of hers, and no one is better at pointing out when someone is lying. I’m not scared that they’ll do anything to her, but I am scared that they wil do some digging to see if they can find out who she is dating.

As I’m in the elevator I take a deep breath and bring out my new phone and text Y/N.

Hey I just wanted to say thank you for this gift. I hope you have a great time in Milan and I know that you will rock it!

I was about to put it back in my pocket when she responded

Her

Thank you! Also you’re welcome on the gift. I wanted to say just text me anytime. I’m taking my private jet so I don’t have to worry about airplane mode on my phone. But I know that you will be busy. Good luck on your case!

I was about to respond to her when the elevator dinged, indicating that it had reached my floor. I quickly scrambled to put my new phone in my bag and walked into the bullpen. As I walked in, I saw everyone there just heading up to the conference room.

“Hey look who made, Pretty Boy!” Morgan called out. Everyone gave a chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah, hey, I had a late night thinking I might have been able to get a few extra hours of sleep.” and everyone agreed while still chuckling. As we walked into the conference room, Penelope was already there.

“Ok friends, so today you are heading to Dr. Reid’s very own Las Vegas, Nevada for a case where there have been prostitutes kidnapped, held for two days and tortured, then dumped outside of dive bars in the alley. They aren’t normally hidden and any employee or patron that walks out the bars alley door is likely to see them.”

Rossi looked at his file, “Interesting, there are marks on their wrists and ankles indicating that they were tied up. Maybe this unsub’s ruse was to pretend they wanted their services, only to knock them out somehow?”

“But how? There are no drugs found in their system.” JJ answered.

“Unless it was rohypnol. We all know that that drug doesn’t stick around long enough to appear on a tox report,” Morgan responded.

“Well there are about 800 to 1,000 bars in Las Vegas, there are really only 20 to 25 bars and nightclubs in Las Vegas that could be quantified as ‘dive bars’,” I put out there.

“Ok guys,” Hotch started, “This guy seems to be on a two day cycle. Wheels up in 20.”

With that we all left to gather our things and head over to the airport.

Once we got to the airport, I felt my phone buzz and I looked down.

Y/N

Look up. I see you!

I looked up across the tarmac and Y/N was over at the next terminal waving to me. I waved back when I heard a squeal.

“Oh my god! That’s Y/F/N!” Emily, JJ, and Penelope all screamed while waving back enthusiastically.

I smiled to myself and texted back.

Yeah I see you. My coworkers are big fans.

Y/N

I could hear them screaming from here lol

Lol? Also, I know I can’t, but I wish I could just run over there and kiss you.

Y/N

Laugh out loud. You have no idea, but we both know how important our work is to us and how we like to keep our private life private.

That’s very true. I do like to keep my life private from my coworkers. And I know for you it’s more serious than that.

Y/N

Yes it sadly is. Anyways, good luck on your case and stay safe!

Thank you. Good luck at your modeling/fashion show!

Y/N

Thank you 😘

I put my phone away as I settled into my seat on our plane. Once we leveled off in the sky, we debriefed the case and came up with some new theories. Once we got to break to relax, I looked at my phone to see Y/N’s text. It gave me a small blush and I quickly put my phone away. We debriefed quickly on the plane and took the rest of the time to ourselves. I could hear Emily, JJ, and Garcia talking about how this case is going to go fast because we saw Y/N. Something about how it’s good luck to see your favorite celebrity, I wasn’t really listening to them.

Time Skip because I suck at coming up with case stuff

As the team and I are chasing the Unsub, he turns around to take a shot at JJ. I pushed her out of the way and took a bullet in the shoulder.

“Oh my god Spencer!”

“Go!” I yelled, “Get him!”

JJ stayed back with me and put pressure on my shoulder. “Come on, Spence. Let’s get you to a hospital.” JJ took me to the nearest hospital. It was nothing too bad, all they needed to do was take the bullet out and get a few sticthes. My arm is in a sling and my arm is going to hurt for a week. The rest of the team got the Unsub and he is in custody.

As we boarded the plane, JJ stopped me outside. “Thank you, Spence, for pushing me out of the way. I owe you one.”

“It’s no problem JJ.”

“Yes it is! That shot would’ve killed me. It would have gone into my heart. I would be dead.”

“That’s what I’m saying JJ. My choice was either you being killed, or my shoulder being in pain. That’s not a choice, it’s an obvious point that I needed to take action.”

JJ hugged me and went onto the plane. I took my normal spot on the plane and got a book out. After about four hours, I thought since it has been a couple of days I should update Y/N.

Hi Y/N. How did your fashion show go?

Y/N

It went amazing! I got to model three different outfits and they were all gorgeous! Plus the designer let me keep them. I’m actually at home right now let me go try them on and send you a picture.

I would love to see the outfits but I need to tell you something. Can I come over? I’ll be careful I promise.

Y/N

*Picture sent*

Yeah you can come over! My house is actually more secure so you can just drive up the driveway. When you get to the gate just say your name and they’ll let you in.

You look gorgeous.

I’ll do that then. We’ll be landing in about thirty minutes. So I’ll be there in like 45 minutes.

Y/N

*Picture sent*

Sounds great! I’ll be ready!

*Picture sent*

Those two outfits are also gorgeous. God do they put anything on a runway that isn’t amazing?

Y/N

Never. If it’s not amazing, it doesn’t go out. See you soon.

I put my phone away discretely and went back to my book.

#aaron hotchner #david rossi #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #jj #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #doctor spencer reid

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canirove · 1 year

Text

Bluebell | Chapter 22

Author’s note: And we’ve made it to the end! Thank you very much to everyone who has read this story, liked it, shared it with others or commented. It always means a lot 💜

For those of you who like Rúben, next Tuesday (Jan 31) I’ll start posting a new story with him (will probably share a characters introduction and maybe the summary on Sunday), and if everything goes as planned, I’ll start posting a new story with Mason the week of Valentine’s Day.

Hope you like this last chapter, and again, sorry to some of you for the previous one 😅

Previous chapter

Masterlist

"Thank you for coming, Mason. I didn't know who else to call."

"It's ok, don't worry. Do you know where the generator is?"

"I think it is this big thing next to the heating system."

"This big thing" he chuckles.

"You know what I mean" I say as a thunder sounds somewhere very close.

"We should check it before the storm arrives. C'mon" Mason says.

It was announced that a huge storm would be hitting Bluebell, and everyone in town had been urged to stay safe, but also to check if they had everything that may be needed in case of flooding, power cuts... And since Rúben was out of town and couldn't check it all for me, Mason was my next option.

Every time we've been alone during these past few months, things have been great, we’ve behaved like we've always had (minus the having sex part, of course). When Rúben is around, it is a bit more tense, but both of them are doing their part to keep improving their relationship, and hopefully one day have a normal and civilized one.

"Everything is fine over here" Mason says after checking the generator. "If the power goes out, it should start working on its own."

"Thank you."

"But shouldn't you be staying with Mrs. Smart? You are eight months pregnant, and I don't see any guests coming in with this weather" he says as the whole room gets lightened, a thunder sounding just seconds after.

"I'm going there later for dinner, I'll be alright. I'll..."

"What? What is it?"

"I need to go to the bathroom."

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just need to pee. Wait upstairs in the living room."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Mason..." I say when I meet him, the storm already here. "I’m in labour."

"You are in what?"

"I... Fuck!"

"Fuck what?"

"The baby is coming, Mason" I say, trying to breath through my contraction.

"Now?"

"Yes, now. And fast."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"This... We shouldn't be doing this. You should be at the hospital, not here."

"Mason, there is no time to go to the hospital, you heard what they... Fuck!" I scream as I feel another contraction.

"But I don't know what to do! I've never seen a woman actually give birth, just what they show on movies!"

"Welcome to your first time, then" I say, trying to smile now that the pain has eased a bit. "Check how much I've dilated."

"What?"

"You heard what the midwife said, Mason. We must check it to know when it is time."

"Are you sure you want me to do it?"

"You are very familiar with that part of my body."

"I am, but I'm sure it doesn't look the same right now."

"Mason. Do it" I say, my voice sounding more like a grunt as I feel another contraction coming.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Ok guys, it's time to push" my midwife says over the phone.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" Mason says.

"It's gonna be fine, I'll guide you, ok?"

"Ok" he repeats, taking a deep breath.

"Push!" the midwife says.

"Oh, oh, I see something!"

"That's good, that's good. Remember to breath and... Push!"

"The head! I see hair!"

"We are almost there, probably just another push. Are you both ready?"

"Yes" Mason and I say at the same time, our gazes focused on each other.

"Ok... Breath and... Push!"

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Where are they?" Rúben says, storming into Daisy's.

"Shh, quiet. They are sleeping."

"Where are they, Mount?"

"I already told you. Sleeping. She needs to rest, and Mrs. Smart is keeping an eye on both of them. Her, and Dixie. That cat hasn’t left her side since she went into labour."

"Ok" Rúben says, letting out a big sigh and sitting down on the sofa. "What happened?"

"The baby got tired of waiting, and decided that the day the biggest storm in the past decade was hitting Bluebelll, was the perfect day to come to the world."

"And you were here?"

"Yep. Since you were busy, she asked me if I could come check the generator downstairs just in case there were power cuts. And an hour later, I was bringing a baby to the world."

"Thank God you were here. If she had been alone..."

"Yeah..." Mason whispers.

"Thank you."

"Uh?"

"Thank you for helping her and the baby."

"Of course. You know I would do anything for her. Even if she chose you and all that."

"Friends?" Rúben asks, offering him a hand.

"Friends-ish" Mason says, shaking it. "Fancy a drink to celebrate that the little one is here and both of them are safe and sound?"

"That sounds like a great idea. Do you know where she keeps the nice stuff?" Rúben asks with a smile.

"Oh, I do" Mason replies, also smiling.

"What do we toast to?" Rúben asks once they both have their drink.

"To the little one, of course. And to that amazing woman you have as a girlfriend" Mason says, lifting his glass.

"To them... And to you. Thank you for what you did. Again."

"Cheers, bro."

"Cheers, Mason."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"You won't believe what I just saw downstairs."

“Please tell me the basement isn’t flooded and that we have ducks swimming on it.”

“No, nothing like that” Mrs. Smart says. “This is something good. I think.”

“You think?”

“Mason and Rúben were together downstairs, having a drink, and laughing.”

“They were doing what?”

“What you heard” she says. “Rúben also asked if he could come see you both. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Can I come in?” Rúben asks, opening the door.

“Of course. There is someone who is dying to meet you.”

“Hello, little one” he says, sitting on the bed next to me, caressing the baby’s head. Our baby. Our son.

“What do you think?” I ask him.

“He’s perfect. And you are amazing.”

“Me? What for?” I chuckle.

“Giving birth at home? With no drugs? And just with the help of Mason, who knows nothing about these things.”

“I had my midwife on the phone. And this is nothing compared to what other women do and go through.”

“I know. But to me, you are amazing” he says, kissing my cheek. “Can I hold him?”

“Of course. Little one, meet your dad. Dad, meet your son, the one who still doesn’t have a name” I say while putting him on his arms. He looks so tiny on them...

“Now that he is here, it’ll be easier, you’ll see” Rúben says, his eyes focused on him.

“I hope so. What about Mason?”

“I’m not naming him Mason.”

“That’s not what I meant” I say, rolling my eyes. “What was happening with him downstairs?”

“Oh, that” he chuckles. “Nothing. Just that this little guy may be the thing that will put an end to almost a decade of hating each other.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You are a miracle baby, little one” I say, kissing his head.

“Daniel.”

“What?”

“Daniel. Daniel Dias, with the accent on the e. I like how that sounds” Rúben says.

“No middle name?”

“Nah.”

“Daniel Dias... I like it. What do you think, Dixie?” He is sleeping at the end of my bed and hasn’t left my side for the past couple of hours, kind of protecting me. I sometimes wonder if that’s why my dad left him with me. To protect me now that he was gone.

“Meow” he says before stretching his legs and curling on a different position.

“I think that’s a yes, I like it.”

“Thank you, Dixie” Rúben laughs. “I love you, you know? You and Daniel. Both of you.”

“I love you too. Both of you” I say, resting my head on his shoulder and not being able to stop smiling while I watch him caressing our son’s head in the most loving and caring way I have ever seen.

I thought that after my ex and my best friend broke my heart, I would never recover from it. That I would never fall in love again. Make new friends. Find people I could consider my family.

Yet here I am, having found all that and more, feeling the luckiest and happiest woman in the world.

#mason mount #ruben dias #mason mount x reader #ruben dias x reader #mason mount fanfic #ruben dias fanfic #mason mount imagine #ruben dias imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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