#she hasn’t spoken more than 4 words to me in a week
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BACK TOGETHER
A/N: okayyyy another little steve fic bc yall really loved my prev one!
PAIRING: Steve Harrington x Reader
WORD COUNT: 1.1k
WARNING: season 4 spoiler!!!
SUMMARY: You and Steve broke up not long ago, but watching over Max in the night brings the two of you back together.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
The gang is now stationed in the Wheelers’ basement once again. After what happened to Max in the cemetery you’re guarding her nonstop, there’s always someone watching her, checking that she is still listening to the music and hasn’t gone into trance again. It’s one in the morning and you’re the chosen one to keep an eye on her, but Steve has decided to join you.
It’s been a bit weird, hanging out with Steve so much even though the two of you broke up just a few weeks ago. You haven’t spoken much, but the recent happenings with Vecna brought the old gang together so now you’re forced to be around each other again. The breakup happened after a stupid, but pretty intense fight you had, it started because you’ve had enough of Steve always hanging out with Robin and even though you know Robin is playing on a different team, it’s still pretty annoying when you can’t make plans with your boyfriend because he already has something going on with Robin.
He accused you of being jealous for no reason and you told him he is a child and it ended with a screaming match and the two of you parted ways after breaking up. One year of relationship ended in such a ridiculous way, you almost kind of feel embarrassed.
“You’re not hearing any clock dinging, right?” Steve asks, breaking the silence since everyone around you is asleep.
“Wait, you don’t hear it?” you ask with a dead serious face and watch as his expression falls completely. “I’m just kidding,” you add quickly.
“It’s not funny, Y/N, not after what happened to Max!” he tells you off, but you still find it a bit comical. He should know you well enough to know you’d have already told them if Vecna was after you.
“Sorry, just trying to stay awake,” you yawn, taking a glance at Max who is seemingly still perfectly fine.
“Go to sleep, I can take over your shift,” he offers.
“No need to play the hero, Steve.”
“I’m not… I’m just trying to be nice,” he rolls his eyes.
“We’re not together anymore, so you don’t have to go out of your way to be nice to me, though you didn’t quite do it before either.”
Your comment comes out a bit spicier than you intended, but you also think it’s true. It’s too late to act nice now, he should have cared about you when you expected it from him.
“Y/N, maybe we should talk about that,” he sighs, running a hand through his ridiculously good hair. How does he look this good even in the middle of what feels like another apocalypse?
“About what exactly? That we broke up or that you said I was jealous or that you spent more time with Robin than your own girlfriend?”
“God, I almost forgot how hot you are when you give me an attitude.”
“And you’re such a child,” you roll your eyes and attempt to get up from beside him, but he grabs your hand and pulls you back.
“I’m sorry! Please, I want to apologize!”
“About wha–”
“Everything, Y/N,” he groans, already knowing what you wanted to ask. “You were right and I was an ass. I just always thought you would find someone better than me at college so I convinced myself you don’t need me and I didn’t want to need you either.”
His confession surprises you, he never told you he was having second guesses and you would have reacted differently if only he told you the truth.
“Steve, I’m staying in Hawkins instead of applying to schools out of state. I made this decision because of you. Do you think I would just drop you for some other guy?”
“I don’t know, I thought about that, yes,” he replies with a shrug, but it’s obvious he is struggling inside.
“You’re an idiot, Steve. That’s what you are,” you sigh.
“Well, at least we agree about that. I really am an idiot, because I lost the best girl in town.”
Silence falls on you, it’s heavy and says a lot. You want to tell him you still love him, that you still want to be with him, but you want him to take this step, to tell you he wants to give your relationship another go. But you know it can take some time for Steve to figure out, to decode the signs you send him.
“What song would you play to bring me back?” you ask to keep the conversation going. His eyebrows rise as he looks at you with a tiny smile as he thinks about his answer.
“Something from Duran Duran, it’s your favorite, right?” he smirks as you gape at him.
“You ass, that’s your favorite!” Steve starts laughing and you can’t hold it back either as you smack him in the chest.
“Cyndi Lauper Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. You played it every morning last year when we drove to school,” he then says and it’s the correct answer, it’s definitely your favorite song at the moment. “Though I’m a bit hurt that your favorite song is not related to me,” he adds.
“But it is.”
“What?” he furrows his eyebrows at you.
“It was playing on the radio when you picked me up on our first date,” you tell him. “I took it as a sign.”
“That it was gonna be a good date?”
“That Steve Harrington is not as big of a douchebag people say him to be,” you tease him smirking. “And I was right. He is a pretty good guy. He just… gets lost sometimes, forgets that I love him a lot and I don’t want other men when I have him.”
He looks at you with those puppy eyes, his ridiculously curly eyelashes framing them perfectly and all your anger and disappointment is now gone. You just want your boyfriend back. Luckily, Steve reads the situation as well and he knows this is his chance to get you back.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I was a shitty boyfriend, but if you gave me another chance I would do everything to make you happy.”
“What took you so long?” you sigh with a soft smile before leaning in and pressing your lips against his.
You missed his lips, his kisses, his touches, the way he cups your face when he deepens the kiss. For a moment you’re not in the Wheelers’ basement, but in a safe place somewhere far away from the madness in Hawkins.
“It’s so nice you two just got back together, but you’re supposed to be watching Max.”
Dustin’s voice snaps you out of your little bubble and pulling away from Steve you see him sitting up, his eyes puffy and barely open as he watches the two of you.
“Henderson, you just know exactly when to open your mouth, huh?” Steve sighs and the kid in question just smirks and shrugs before lying back down and Steve doesn’t hesitate before pulling you closer to continue from where you left it before Dustin’s interruption.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
#steve harrington#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#stranger things#stranger things season 4#stranger things spoiler#stranger things season 4 spoiler#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington one shot
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In Plain Sight: Tiana
summary: nathan does his best to support you.
pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader, f!reader’s mother (Tiana)
contents: this entire series is 18+, sick parent, parent death, grief, panic attacks, existential crisis, support!nathan
wc: 1,360
an: this one is a bit heavy so do heed the warnings. we also jump around in the timeline so it is important to have read previous parts or it won’t make much sense. be gentle with yourselves on this one
in plain sight masterlist | TIONB | planted | little hamlet
3 Weeks before To Atomize*
The day you told your mother about Nathan was one of her last good days. Many, many bad days came after. Celia— her nurse— sent you the usual report before you left to go home. It said that your mother had slept most of the day and gotten a burst of energy.
When you got home that day, she was propped up, watching some soap opera with mild interest. Seeing her genuine smile when you walked through the door had made your heart flutter.
You made her favorite tea, and brought a book to read though you really had wanted to talk to her, not at her. With working, taking care of your sisters, and her health you found that you didn’t get to do that much anymore. Talk with your mother, hearing her thoughts and opinions, her praises and suggestions. Feeling her intentional love. You crave it.
“Have you told your sisters?”
“No— I will. I wanted to tell you first.”
Her brows raise and teasingly she murmurs, “You’re serious about him.”
“I am,” You say through a laugh.
Her smile is so warm, like the sun, the corners of her eyes crinkling, “You love him.”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“But you could?”
“I could.”
“Don’t be afraid to.”
“That’s easier said than done, mama.”
She sighs patiently, shifting more on her side so that she can look directly at you, “Does he love you?”
You grow warm under her serious gaze. You don’t particularly like thinking about Nathan feeling more deeply for you. He’s assured you that he’s in this for the long haul— that he’s ‘spoken for’ but words and actions are very different things. He hasn’t done anything to show he words aren’t true…yet. “I think so. He acts like it.”
“Then let him.”
“Mama—“
“When you find a man that treats you the way you’re meant to be treated, you can’t be scared, darling.”
“But it’s scary.”
“You’ve done so many scary things in your life. You’ve watched my health fluctuate with a brave face. You’ve raised those girls out there. And now you’re on the cusp of falling in love. A beautiful girl with a beautiful heart. Everything will work out how it’s meant to.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I’m not. Isn’t that more reason to grasp it while you can?”
“I don’t know mama, this is all so existential.”
“Promise me something.”
“Anything, mama.”
“Promise me you won’t waste the time. If you want him, if you love him, then don’t waste any time. When the time comes, let yourself as openly and honestly as you possible can. Promise me?”
“I promise.”
—
Present Day (5 months after Family Dinner)
“Honey?”
Nathan’s voice pulls you out of the haze that you seem to always be slipping into now that your mother is gone. It’s hard, not wanting to escape into memories so that it feels like she’s here.
You give him a wane smile, “Hey.”
“I’ve been calling you,” He says softly, sliding onto the couch beside you.
You sigh, shaking your head a little as if that’ll clear the fog, a task that you imagine will take years. “Sorry, I’m just…”
“I know, sweetheart. It’s alright,” He assures you, draping an arm behind you on the couch. His brows are pinched with worry— an emotion you’re still trying to get used to seeing on his face.
You sit up on the edge of the couch abruptly, looking around. Where’s your phone? Your laptop? “Wait, what time is it?”
“Almost 4.”
“I wasted my entire day here?”
“You didn’t waste it. You said you wanted some space, I gave it to you.”
“But this is the only day of the week that I stay this long anymore. You didn’t have to give me that much space.”
“There’s next week and the week after that…and the week after that. I could keep going but I hope you’re understanding our situation here,” He teases gently, running his hand over your back.
You lean out of his comforting touch, feeling guilty. “It’s not, I should be cherishing my time with you. Who knows when—“
He cuts you off immediately. He’s had this conversation with you multiple times since your mother’s passing. He doesn’t want you to focus on him— but on yourself and your sisters, on getting you all through this. “Hey, uh uh, don’t do that. Don’t go there.”
You’re already there. You’ve been there for weeks now. All you can think about is life slipping out of your grasp. Of not having the words or the feelings to make the time dwindling in front of you feel like it's enough. Your chest feels tight, and you scoot further away from him trying to keep yourself centered. Its futile attempt, everything’s all out of whack, you can’t find your balance, your emotions sway and crash around you unpredictably like the waves of a seastorm.
“But, it’s true. I could lose you today or tomorrow. I could lose you right now, you could have some fucked up brain vessel or something. You could choke o-or fall o-or– and Philippa, Emma–”
He cups your hands in his chest, brown eyes soft and desperate as he tries to calm you down. “Honey. I need you to take it down a notch and breathe, you’re gonna give yourself a panic attack.”
“I don’t— I can’t—“ You gulp frantically, feeling your breath grow shallow.
“She was sick,” He whispers, pulling you flush to his chest. “She was sick, sweetheart, there was nothing to be done. I’m healthy, I’m here— so are your sisters. We can get them check ups every month, get them checked out by oncologists as much as you want. Whatever you need to make you feel alright.”
“I feel like I’m going insane. How can having less to do and worry about make me insane?” You say through tears.
Nathan hates seeing you like this. He’s never hated anything more than seeing you in pain. He wishes he could take it away— he would do anything, pay any amount of money, invent any program if it meant that you could have some reprieve.
“Stop. You’re not insane, you’re grieving. Studies say there’s no right way— trust me I’ve looked high and fucking low for a methodology— but you’ve gotta take it as it comes, sweetheart. I’ll be here, right beside you the whole time.”
You’re quiet for a long time, letting Nathan hold you. He rocks you side to side, brushing soft, tickling kisses across your temple and forehead. You focus on the rise and fall of his chest, allowing your breathing to mimic his own. He’s warm and solid against you. He’s right here. Living and breathing and talking right beside you. He’s right here.
Finally you say, “I don’t want to take it as it comes. I want to feel okay again.”
“If I could make it so baby, I would,” He whispers, squeezing you a little tighter.
“I know. I’m sorry. Thank you Nathan.”
He cups your face, guiding your gaze to his own– its unyielding and firm. No nonsense. “You don’t apologize to me, alright? Ever.
He’s been more like that since your mom’s passing. More directive and firm, guiding and caring for you in ways that were necessary before. It’s exactly what you need right now. And sometimes, it has those butterflies settling in your stomach and heat simmering in your veins.
You refocus on him where your gaze had gone a little blurry. “Not even if I accidentally knee you in the nuts?”
Nathan pretends to consider your ridiculous question. “I shouldn’t have had my nuts where your knees are.”
“You may be the closest specimen to a perfect man.”
“I mean it honey, don’t apologize to me for this. I won’t accept it and I’ll yell you every single time.”
You raise a brow at him, “Yell?”
“Yell.”
“You’ve never yelled at me, not even when you were just my boss.”
“Maybe I’m exaggerating,” He allows, grinning at you mischievously.
“You are.”
“Maybe I’m not.”
“Trying to keep me guessing?”
He presses a chaste kiss to your mouth, and then another and another, addicted. “Always, baby.”
nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @thhriller, @tenderhornynihilist, @queerponcho, @redcake333
#nathan bateman x reader#nathan bateman x f!reader#nathan bateman x fem!reader#nathan bateman fanfiction#nathan bateman#ex machina fanfiction#ex machina#in plain sight#not sfw#arson writes
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complicated
summary: harry's moved on and it's killing you to keep watching.
word count: 1,307
a/n: here's a new little piece for you. i do apologise for not putting much out, pregnancy is really taking it out of me alongside working full-time still and redecorating. anyway, enjoy this little angsty fic
//
You shouldn’t be surprised, not one bit. And yet, you can’t help the slack in your jaw or the bewildered state in your eyes.
You blink. Once. Twice.
You’re sure you’ve heard him right but part of you wonders if you’ve mistaken the news.
Yes, he’s smitten with her. Completely and utterly head over heels, and this is Harry we’re talking about, someone who very much believes in love at first sight and living in the moment.
He’s just never done anything quite like this before. Sure, taking girls to meet his family after a week of dating, or buying them bank-breaking expensive jewellery before even getting out of the taking stage.
And there’s been a time or two when he’s very prematurely asked girls to move in with him in the first month or so of the relationship. But this? This takes it to a whole new level.
Harry is engaged.
You don’t ignore the aching pang in your heart when you remind yourself what he’s just announced. How can you? Nothing with Harry has ever come easy since you split a couple years back. Reason being that Harry rushed things too quickly and you wanted to take your time to grow and get to know each other.
Yet, hearing the news brings nothing but bile and jealousy to the brim of your throat. That should be you. Two years wouldn’t be a bad time to propose to someone, not after being with them for 4 months and friends for two more years prior.
You could be living together by now, adoring that no doubt blinding ring. But you’re not. Instead, you’re bitter. Bitter that some random girl he’s known for three months is engaged to the love of your life. Bitter that Harry can’t seem to take his time and wait. Bitter that Harry couldn’t wait for you to be ready.
“Wow.”
It comes out as more of a petty whisper than anything else. And Harry notices. The gleam in his eyes turns from proud to sheepish and you hate you’ve made him feel that way.
You never meant to take his happiness away like that. You clear your throat, blinking away the selfish things you’re feeling and mustering up the most convincing smile you possibly can.
“This is huge, H. Congratulations.”
His shoulders seem to sag in relief just a little, and he turns just enough to face another friend in the group. Your heart can’t stop the consistent pangs. It’s a horrible thing to watch, to understand.
Harry is so desperate for love, to find it and keep it, that he blinds himself from common sense and functionality.
It hurts to know that he hasn’t thought this through, or maybe it hurts more that there’s a possibility he has.
Has he?
Has he thought about what this means? That not only will she have his last name but also his fortune, too? That this will be the woman he spends the rest of his life with, has he realised that? Is that what he wants?
What about Christmas’ and New Years? How that’ll be split between his family and hers. And what about children? Will they have any? Have they spoken about that? About starting a family?
Your lungs feel as though they’re crushing in on themselves, or maybe like they’re drowning in tears you’re yet to cry. You can’t breathe, not the more you think. The more you assume.
Why does Harry want all of this with her? Why couldn’t he just wait a little longer to have it with you?
As he speaks with another, you make your quick escape to the kitchen, desperate for something stronger than the bottled water he offered when you arrived at his home. Though as you stare into the fridge, you can’t see a damn thing.
Your vision is completely blurred by salty tears that threaten to spill over, you can barely make out the shape of the eggs that sit in the door of the refrigerator no matter how hard you try to focus.
Everything hurts and you’re sure your knees are going to buckle at any given moment, and when you hear that voice - his voice, telling you there’s white wine in the bottom drawer, you crumble.
Spinning on your heels, you face him.
There’s an anger in your features, he can see it, sense it. A lump forms in Harry’s throat as he takes your state in. He’s not dumb, he knows it has everything to do with his recent news of engagement.
It’s selfish, he knows, but Harry was hoping you’d be okay with it. That you wouldn’t get upset and cry and ask all the questions he knows you’re about to. He doesn’t want to face it, but you don’t exactly give him a choice.
“Four months? Four months and you propose?”
Harry swallows but doesn’t say anything. He knows you need to speak, to get out what you need to say.
You take a step closer.
“Four months of knowing her and you propose?”
Silence.
It only makes your anger grow. You shake your head, arms flailing at your side.
“Do you know her? Or have you just jumped into this like every other time? Why are you so desperate to do these things so quickly, Harry? What if this doesn’t work like everyone before?”
Harry has tears in his eyes and you can’t figure out why. Are you upsetting him with the facts, or is it something else? Did he just not want to hear it?
“How do you do it, H?” your voice is much gentler this time, it catches him off guard.
Harry expects you to shout and scream, not huff and shrug in defeat after a few sentences, he knows you have so much more to say than that.
“Do what?” he finally croaks.
“How do you move on so fucking fast? How do you forget everything we had so quickly? How do you forget me?”
He waits a beat, staring at the tears that fall. Your skin is growing clammy, heart thumping against your ribcage.
Forget you? How could he ever?
“Why do you always have to rush into things? Why couldn’t you have just waited for me?”
Harry doesn’t know what to say, your final words knock him sideways.
“Wait for you?” he asks, brows pinched. “I thought we agreed we were better as friends?”
You scoff, head rolled back in disbelief.
“You wanted me to move in with you after three months, H. I wasn’t ready for that. Then, you wanted to get me a goddamn promise ring. I wasn’t ready for that, either. We were together for four months, Harry. I wanted to take my time with you, get to know you and enjoy the stages of what we were.”
The confession sends ringing through Harry’s ears. He remembers the conversation, where you told him things were moving too fast, that you thought you’d be better as friends.
He takes a deep breath.
“You couldn’t have waited another few months to ask me to move in with you? You couldn’t have waited a month or so after that to get me a promise ring? And a few more again to propose?”
That’s when it hits him. You’re not over Harry, you never were. And all the times since the breakup, that he’s introduced new girls and milestones, you’ve sat there wondering why the hell he couldn’t have just waited and had it all with you.
“Why couldn’t you wait for me, Harry? Why wasn’t I enough?”
He shakes his head, fast.
“You were never not enough, Y/N.”
It’s your turn to shake your head profusely and step back when he inches closer.
“If I was enough, you would’ve waited. And that ring would be on my finger, not some strangers.”
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fic#harry styles angst#harry styles imagines#harry styles x you#imagine harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles smut#harry styles oneshots
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PR Relationship
Masterlist Scarlett Masterlist
Word Count: 3110
Relationship: Scarlett x Singer Reader
Summary: Y/n and Scarlett are in love with each other and have a secret relationship that only a select few know about. Things change when Y/n finds out that Scarlett may have her eyes on someone else.
(I do not own the rights to the lyrics, I just think this sounds fits the story perfectly. It’s Secret Love Song by Little Mix.)
Y/N’s POV:
For the last 3 months, I have been dating the beautiful Scarlett Johansson. However, as she hasn’t come out yet, it was a complete secret with only Lizzie Olsen knowing the truth. At first it didn’t bother me at all. It was exciting. The sneaking around was fun and trying to sneak dates and kisses without being caught was exhilarating. But the last couple of weeks have started to get tiring. If ever I stay over, she’s kicking me out at like 5am so I don’t get caught by the paps, we never travel anywhere together and I’ve lost count of the amount of times she’s totally changed her demeanour around me because someone has walked by us.
Don’t get me wrong, I completely understand that Scarlett is scared of coming out. I’ve already done that and it wasn’t easy. I would never push her to do anything she’s uncomfortable with. But it’s starting to hurt, it feels more like she’s hiding me rather than protecting herself. Thing is, I love her and I’m willing to wait for her. Which is the problem, I’m scared this might break me.
So here I am, 4:30 in the morning tiptoeing around her bedroom getting ready to sneak out. I don’t want to wake her, she’s been so busy at work she deserves a good rest. I throw on some sweatpants and a hoody whilst picking up my underwear from the floor after last night’s activities. I leave a gentle kiss on Scarlett’s forehead before slipping out of the house, unheard, into the early morning.
As I’m sat in my car I can feel the exhaustion seeping through my body. I had been spending most nights at Scar’s which meant I was only getting a few hours sleep and it was starting to catch up with me. I’ve got to be at the studio at 8am so I decide there is no point in heading home. Instead I make my way to the beach to watch the sunrise and go for a swim. There’s no better way to start my day. Well other than getting to sleep in my girlfriends arms past 5!
I get to the studio early and I start having all of these thoughts in my head which I start to collate and write down. Lyrics forming as I write. I’ve not felt this inspired for a long time
We keep behind closed doors
Every time I see you, I die a little more
Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls
It'll never be enough
It’s not until I start to pull the lyrics together that I realise how much this whole situation is hurting me. By the end of the day it’s all starting to come together, the quickest that I have ever written a song. My team love it and are already planning for me to sing it on Jimmy Kimmel. I push back though. It’s not fair to Scarlett to hear about my feelings through an interview. But writing the song has helped, I’m feeling better already.
As I get into the car I check my phone. I’ve not spoken with Scarlett all day. That’s not unusual as for us though. But a smile forms on my face when I see a message from her.
Scarlett:
Hey Babe, thanks for this morning. I really needed that sleep. I know you’re in the studio all day so can’t talk. I’m working late but perhaps you could come over tomorrow? Love you xx
Me:
Hey Scar, no problem, you need your sleep! Tomorrow would be great. Love you too xx
The next evening I’m sat on the sofa in Scarlett’s living room her legs draped over mine as we watch TV. She has her laptop resting on her legs finishing up the last bit of work before she’s done for the day. I’m just sat scrolling through my phone when I seeing articles popping up about Scarlett and her new partner. We’d been so careful to not been seen together in more than a friendly capacity. In fact, by the way we act in public you wouldn’t think we were that close as friends.
But then my heart stops, the articles aren’t referring to me but Chris Evans. What the fuck?! I can feel my heart beating faster like it’s going to beat out of my chest. Then I click on one article, “Co-Stars Scarlett Johansson and Chris Evans spotting kissing on a dinner date.” A photo accompanying it. That was yesterday! I sit up with a jolt feeling like I was going to be sick. My God she’s cheating on me and she’s not even trying to hide it!
“Hey what’s wrong Babe, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Scarlett says concerned looking over her laptop to me. I try to speak but I can’t form words. I can see her starting to get worried as she puts her laptop down on the table and goes to put her arm on my back. I’m quick to pull away and just throw my phone in her direction. She looks at the screen and her eyes grow wide.
“Y/N this isn’t what it looks like, I swear. Please..” Running my hands through my hair I stand up not even able to sit next to her. “I mean it looks like you’ve got your tongue down Evans’ throat. Not sure what else it could look like Scarlett!” I say coldly trying so hard not to yell. “Is this why you hid me? Not wanting anyone to know. Am I the dirty little secret to keep until you have Evans?” Pacing round the room I can feel my chest get tighter and my breathing becoming erratic.
“NO! I’m not cheating on you Y/N, I love you!” “THEN WHAT IS THIS!” So much for not shouting. I can feel my heart breaking in two. “Please just let me explain. With the new Avengers movie coming out our teams thought it would be good PR if we got some rumours going about being in a relationship. We had lunch and dinner dates here and there making sure to look like a couple for the paparazzi. I promise you Y/N there is nothing going on.”
I immediately stop my pacing, turning to her in disbelief. “So you can’t tell anyone about me, but you’re happy to go along with a fake relationship for you movie. Great, good to know where I sit in your priorities. Did you even consider telling me, it’s weird but I would have understood? Instead I find out by finding a picture of you kissing!” I can’t stop the tears anymore, but I won’t let her see me sob.
“Y/N please…” Scarlett grabs my hands trying to get me to look at her. “I-I can’t do this anymore.” I whisper pulling my hands away. “Wait, what do you mean? Y/N?” she says in a scared tone. “I’ve spent the last 3 months doing everything you ever asked. I never pushed for you to do anything you were uncomfortable with, even if it was at a detriment to me. I was waiting for you to be happy in yourself that you could share us with the world. I have always put your first. I knew this could break me and it has. I need to put myself first this time as it’s evident you won’t.” Turning my back on her I grab my things and walk towards her door.
I can hear her running up behind me and she grabs my shoulders spinning me around. “No, you can’t go. I’m so sorry Y/N, I love you, please you can’t leave me. Don’t go we can work this out.” Looking in her eyes I can see the pain. Her cheeks are stained with tears. “We don’t need to work anything out Scar, you do. I just hope you find happiness one day without having to hide yourself way.” With that I walk out, my heart tearing from my chest. A part of me just wishing that one day she might be ready for this relationship as a whole.
Scarlett’s POV:
I had really fucked this up. I hadn’t slept for days and had shut myself away, calling in sick to work to avoid seeing anyone. I had never felt pain like this. Y/N was my world. I love her with all my heart. I had always intended to tell the everyone but it just felt too hard and she was so great at giving me time. But this PR relationship with Chris was by far the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. This isn’t me, I don’t intentionally hurt people but it feels like I did with Y/N.
Whilst in my cave of self-pity and depression I hear banging on the door. Dragging myself up I find an angry Lizzie stood there with her Wanda head tilt. Shit that’s terrifying! “What the fuck Scar?!” She huffs pushing herself into my house. “Well hello to you too Lizzie” I half chuckle. “You broke her when all she has ever done is put your first. I warned you that you needed to be honest with yourself or you’ll lose her.” She’s angry but her tone softens when she sees the state I’m in. “Geeze Scar when was the last time you slept?” She said pulling me in for a hug. “I can’t sleep without her.” I whisper tears starting to form in my eyes.
We move to the sofa and she takes my hands in hers. “From what I hear, Y/N didn’t get much sleep with you. Staying up til God knows when with you then being kicked out at 5am. Did you not notice how tired she’d been?” I just shake my head in shame. “I’ve screwed up Lizzie and I don’t know how to get her back. I’ve told my team I won’t go ahead with the fake relationship anymore but I know I need to do so much more than that to show her I’m in this for the long run.” I don’t dare even speak that I’m terrified that I’ve lost her forever, in fear that speaking it will make it true.
“Scarlett, you need to decide what scares you the most. Coming out and fearing people will see you differently, or losing Y/N, the woman you are madly in love with, for good. Just don’t take too long in making that decision or it could be too late.” She pulls me into a hug and we lie together on the sofa. “I miss her Lizzie” I sniffle. “Well, she’s performing on Jimmy Kimmel. How about we watch that?” I nod and she grabs the remote switching over to her performance.
Y/N’s Performance:
Jimmy: Performing her latest single, please welcome to the stage, Y/N Y/L/N!
The lights dim with a sole spotlight shining on Y/N who is sat at a piano. She starts to play as the notes ring out through the studio.
We keep behind closed doors
Every time I see you, I die a little more
Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls
It'll never be enough
As you drive me to my house
I can't stop these silent tears from rolling down
You and I both have to hide
On the outside where I can't be yours and you
Can't be mine
But I know this
We got a love that is homeless
Why can't I hold you in the street?
Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?
I wish that it could be like that
Why can't it be like that?
'Cause I'm yours
Why can't I say that I'm in love?
I wanna shout it from the rooftops
I wish that it could be like that
Why can't it be like that?
'Cause I'm yours
It's obvious you're meant for me
Every piece of you, it just fits perfectly
Every second, every thought, I'm in so deep
But I'll never show it on my face
But we know this, we got a love that is homeless
Why can't you hold me in the street?
Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?
I wish that it could be like that
Why can't we be like that?
'Cause I'm yours
Why can't I say that I'm in love?
I wanna shout it from the rooftops
I wish that it could be like that
Why can't we be like that?
'Cause I'm yours
I don't wanna live love this way
I don't wanna hide us away
I wonder if it ever will change
I'm living for that day
Someday
When you hold me in the street
And you kiss me on the dance floor
I wish that we could be like that
Why can't we be like that
'Cause I'm yours, I'm yours
Oh, why can't you hold me in the street?
Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?
I wish that it could be like that
Why can't it be like that?
'Cause I'm yours
Why can't I say that I'm in love?
I wanna shout it from the rooftops
I wish that it could be like that
Why can't we be like that?
'Cause I'm yours
Why can't we be like that
Wish we could be like that
The lights faded as the camera zoomed in close enough to see that Y/N was crying before the stage went dark and the audience erupt in applause.
Scarlett’s POV:
Lizzie and I just sat there in silence. I could hear the pain in her voice and it hurt me to know that it was me that caused it. I was pulled out of my trance by Lizzie squeezing me into a tight hug whispering in my ear. “If this didn’t help you decide then I don’t know what will.” She was right, the only person who I care about is Y/N. I’m not scared anymore. I’m going to win her back.
I’m up all night with Lizzie working a way out that I can come out and show my love for Y/N. An Instagram post didn’t seem like enough and a press release was too impersonal. It needed to be something special, and that’s when Lizzie came up with a risky but perfect plan. I just hope that she could forgive me and we can start out lives together a fresh.
Timeskip
It was a week later and here I am sat in the back of Y/N’s limo. She just doesn’t know it. It’s the night of the Grammy’s and Y/N is up for an award. I’m so proud of her and it’s time to show her that she is my number one priority. Lizzie’s grand plan so far had worked. We spoke with Y/N’s team and I explained the whole situation. Her manager was surprisingly nice about and said that it explained a lot about her behaviour recently. She had agreed to arrange a secret plus one for Y/N. I would wait in her car to surprise to walk down the red carpet with her, as her girlfriend. I just hoped she wouldn’t kick me out on the curb.
My heart rate starts to pick up as I hear her talking as she walk towards the car. God I’ve missed that voice. The car door opens and she gets in letting out a slight sigh as she sits. It takes her a moment before she notices me sat there with a nervous smile on my face and she jumps “Jesus Scar, you scared the shit out of me.” We both let out an awkward chuckle. “What are you doing here?” She asks not quite able to maintain the eye contact. This is it, the moment I win my girl back.
I put my finger under her chin and lift it so she’s looking at me. My God she is breathtakingly beautiful! I then take both of her hands in mine taking a deep breath “Y/N. Since the day I met you, I knew I was going to fall madly in love with you. Every day I spent with you I fell more and more in love. No one has ever made me as happy as you do. I know it’s only been 3 months but I know you are the women I want to spend the rest of my life with. I screwed up, I know I can’t take that back. I was so paralysed with fear about coming out and people’s reaction to it, that I didn’t think about you and our relationship. I just let you carry on making the sacrifices for me. But today that changes. I love you with all my heart and I’m not prepared to lose you again. I am so fucking proud of what you have achieve this last year. You deserve everything you are going to get tonight. And…. If you’ll have me… I want to be there for you every step of the way. No more hiding. I want to walk down that red carpet on your arm as your proud girlfriend. And then I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you.”
There is a long silence as her eyes flicker between my own trying to get a read of me. I hope she can see how sincere I’m being, that I mean every word that I’m saying. “Don’t hurt me again. I don’t think I can survive if you do.” She whispers. The biggest smile appears on my face as I reach up and put my hand to her cheek wiping away the stray tear. “I promise I won’t. Can I kiss you?” I ask. “You never have to ask Scar.” And with that I pull her into a passionate kiss. I have missed her lips connecting with mine. It makes me feel complete. “You look absolutely beautiful Y/N. I’m so glad I get to call you mine.” She laughs and pulls me in for another soft kiss.
As we pull up to the venue Y/N grabs my hand. “Are you sure Scar? I don’t want you to do something you’re going to regret.” I look at her and smile. “The only regret I have is not telling the world how much I love you sooner. Let’s do this.” The fear is gone, I’m only excited now. As the door to the limo opens, I see the start of our new life together.
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the bet ch.5 - r.b x female reader
Blurb: office bonding session pt.2. the boss decides to take them out for dinner and alcohol makes everything more exciting
Word Count: 6.2k
A/N: i'm literally so tired. that is all Warnings - regulus and evan are a little misogynistic and by a little i mean a lot, sex is heavily referenced, alcohol and drinking
Masterlist | ch.1 | ch.2 | ch.3 | ch.4 | ch.6 | ch.7 | ch.8 | ch.9 | ch.10 | FINISHED
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She sent a letter to her boss immediately when she got home and she got one back barely an hour later wishing her a speedy recovery.
She felt like she did speedily recover from the injury. She took the potion when she got home as well and her head felt so good that she didn’t even tell her parents about what had happened.
They would have just worried and told her that she shouldn’t have been playing Quidditch, so really, there was no point. She did a spell to hide the bruise on her lip and decided they didn’t need to ever find out.
However, she wasn’t entirely sure she had recovered from the day. Whenever she closed her eyes she could see Regulus’ grey ones staring back at her and when they had their guests over, she was finding it hard trying to keep the conversation going when all she could think about was the way Regulus had spoken when he was trying to get her a healer.
But she sat there politely throughout the night, trying to act like everything was normal. Trying to act like Regulus Black wasn’t at the forefront of her every thought.
This time, she had no potion to blame.
Regulus eventually went over to Evan’s, who was waiting for him with a stupid grin on his face.
“So,” he said, “how did your hospital trip go?”
Regulus shook his head as he sat down next to his friend on the couch.
“Uneventful.”
“Really?” Evan asked, “You didn’t fuck her in the healer’s office? Not a nice quickie in a supply closet?”
“You’re gross.”
“Hey,” Evan said defensively, “you said yes to the bet.” And Evan was right.
He had said yes to the bet. And at first, Regulus didn’t care, because he had nothing to lose and five hundred galleons to gain. And that was still true, but he wondered if he’d feel just as guilty hurting her emotionally than as he did by hurting her physically.
He shook himself out of it.
It was just going to be a quick fuck, he wasn’t going to lead her on so it was fine. Besides, she never had to know about the bet so no feelings would get hurt.
“I think it actually helped me get closer to her though,” he said.
“That’s boring,” Evan said, “I don’t want to know her favourite colour or her favourite book.”
“You do know who we are dealing with though?” Regulus asked, “I really don’t think she’d take just anyone to bed, it’d have to be someone she actually liked.” Evan shrugged, Regulus had a point.
“Do we even know who she’s taken to bed?” Evan asked and Regulus felt something flood his body.
“No,” he said.
“Do you know if she’s even in a relationship?” Regulus turned to his friend.
“No.”
“Mate, are you serious?” Regulus suddenly felt like an idiot.
“Well she hasn’t mentioned anyone,” Regulus said, trying to defend himself.
“I mean, who would want to put up with that?” Evan laughed but Regulus made a mental note to find out during the week.
Regulus was lost in thought. He couldn’t help replaying their time at St Mungos over the weekend. Regulus was used to her being hard and rough, but she was soft and kind and Regulus thought that was a good look on her.
Because even though she was the complete opposite of what he was used to, she still had her wit and quick thinking and that was something that Regulus always enjoyed.
His mind couldn’t help but wander back to his thoughts that first week they were making potions. What would she be like in bed? He hoped that soft and gentle part would come back out again, but he was also looking forward to her keeping her smart mouth. He could have fun with that.
It wasn’t that he wanted to, but he just couldn’t help thinking about those clothes she had worn on Friday.
Fuck, he thought. For some reason, he was excited to see what would happen next week.
When she walked in, Regulus immediately asked, “How’s your head?”
“Fine, thank you,” she said, walking to her desk, “I think our potion helped.”
“That’s good.” He noticed there was no bruise on her lip, but he didn't want to ask about it.
As she sat down their boss came out and made her way over to their joined desks.
“How is your head, darling?” She asked.
“It’s better,” she said, “I had a bit of a headache, but it’s gone now.”
“Good, I hope Regulus looked after you.” She shot him a look and Regulus wasn’t sure how much of it was playful and how much was serious.
“He did,” she said and when she smiled, he couldn’t help but smile with her.
“Good,” she said, “because we never got to have our team bonding session, even though, I hoped you two bonded in St Mungos. I thought Regulus would come back straight away, but I’m glad he stayed with you.”
Regulus took offence that she thought he wouldn’t stay there, but he took it in stride.
“So,” she continued, clapping her hands in front of her, “because we missed out on our bonding session, I decided it’d be better if we went out for dinner this Friday to make up for it, what do you think?”
They both smiled at her.
“Sounds good,” they both said before the boss excused herself and went to the office to answer an owl tapping on the window.
As she walked away, Evan came in and Regulus quickly caught him up on the news.
“Great,” Evan said, “I haven’t been out in so long, I need an excuse to get drunk.” She scoffed at him as he sat in his chair.
“Do you think it’s really appropriate to get drunk at a work event?” She asked.
“Obviously you’ve never been to one of our events.” Evan winked at her and she couldn’t help but scoff again.
Regulus turned to look at her.
“You obviously don’t know the boss that well,” he said, an amused look on his face. She squinted her eyes at him, not sure whether they were being serious or not. “You’ll see on Friday.”
She gave him a cautious look before going back to her work.
Because Friday had basically been a day off for everyone, they were all trying to catch up on the work they missed. Her and Regulus didn’t miss out too much considering they were still only trying to find new potion ideas, but Evan was apparently busy; he didn't even kick the back of Regulus’ chair once.
On Wednesday during the meeting Louie came in to tell her and Regulus that they had a new request for a potion.
“An unlucky potion?” She asked and Louie nodded.
“An unlucky potion,” he confirmed.
“So like, the opposite of Felix Felices?” Regulus asked. Louie nodded.
They decided to work on the potion by themselves first, because they both agreed it was harder to think when there was someone there. But on Thursday morning, they’d share their ideas and see if they’d be able to start a trial on Friday.
She didn’t want to admit it, but she was struggling to think of a way to approach this potion. At first she wanted to start by looking at the ingredients for Felix Felicis and going opposite to that, but she was struggling to think of an opposite for most of these complex ingredients.
On Thursday morning she was nervous, because for the first time, she had no ideas. And she really didn’t want Regulus to find that out.
“So,” Regulus asked when she sat down and he made his way over to her desk, “what do you have for me?” He sat on her desk and he noticed that this time, she didn’t look like she wanted to tell him to get off it.
“I, well,” she said, “you go first.” He squinted his eyes at him. That was unusual. Usually she was always eager to share her thoughts and opinions. But Regulus happily obliged.
“Well I was thinking maybe we test out some antimony because they’ve just done a recent study on it that showed it had highly malleable characteristics which can help for specific potions.”
“Interesting,” she said, “do you have anything else we can work with?”
“I was thinking maybe even looking at some ingredients from the sleeping draught because that will help slow down the individual’s thoughts to hopefully increase the chance of things going wrong. Specifically I was thinking flobberworm mucus and valerian because of their other uses.”
“Is that all?” She asked, hoping there was more to help buy her some time to think of something to say.
“So far, what do you have?” He had his palms rested on her desk, his legs swaying softly over it. She was looking up at him, anxiously playing with her hands in her lap.
“Well,” she said, “I thought maybe we could look at the ingredients for Felix Felices and look at using the opposites of it, or the ingredients that counteract those ones.” She felt like she was rambling and not making sense.
“Okay,” Regulus said, seemingly deep in thought, “like what?”
“Like,” she said, trying hard to remember the ingredients in Felix Felices. “Maybe something rooty instead of thyme?” Regulus squinted his eyes at her. That made no sense.
“Okay.”
“And maybe thinking of the right spell instead of fleximpra.” Regulus took her in. She was avoiding eye contact and her hands were fidgeting nervously in her lap. Her leg was bouncing. Regulus wished it had something to do with their hospital visit last week, but Regulus knew this was different.
“It’s okay if you don’t have any ideas.” She looked at him offended.
“Of course I have ideas,” she huffed, “they just haven’t come to me yet.” She said it so quietly it took Regulus a few seconds to understand what she had said. Anytime before last week, he would have found it hilarious that he had more ideas over her.
She had come in and solved his potion immediately, he needed the ego boost, but now he found the way she was acting more interesting than anything else.
He let out a small laugh and she looked up at him with a hard look on her face.
“It’s fine,” he insisted, before getting up and getting a textbook from behind her, “I was struggling as well, why don’t we have a look together?”
He was already bringing a chair over to sit next to her so really, how could she say no? Especially when there was a part of her that was looking forward to working so closely with Regulus. She really liked this new kindness of his and she was happy to be around it.
Maybe, her suspicions would have risen if she saw the look Evan shot Regulus, but Regulus was quick to look away from his friend.
This was work. This wasn’t part of the bet, they genuinely needed to think of this potion. Most companies were happy to wait however long was necessary to get the desired effect of the potion, but they did have to do this in a timely manner and it was no good if neither of them had any strong ideas.
They flicked through the textbook, occasionally sharing thoughts and gong back and forth from there and by the end of the day, they had a rough idea of what ingredients they wanted to use, but they had no idea on where to start with them, so unfortunately there would be no potion making on Friday and instead, they only had the dinner to look forward to.
They were going to the Leaky Cauldron and Regulus was looking forward to going out. He didn’t mind the people he worked with. Sure, maybe they weren’t on an owl to owl basis, but they knew how to have fun.
And maybe, a part of Regulus was eager to see what she would wear.
“I’ll see you later tonight,” he told her after they spent all of Friday figuring out their method and filling out the paperwork for next Friday.
“See you soon,” she said, putting on her coat and apparating away.
She wasn’t sure what the dress code really was and it wasn’t like she could ask Regulus who seemed to be the person she was closest to in the office. And she didn’t really feel like asking the safety manager nor the boss, so she spent the next hour going through her entire wardrobe.
In the end she decided on a tight fitted dress that was appropriate considering the people she was going out with, but was still nice.
She threw on a nice jacket and apparated to the Leaky Cauldron.
She walked in and saw that Regulus and Evan were already there, still in the clothes they were wearing from work. It occurred to her that they probably apparated here straight from work and she wondered how much they had already had to drink.
Regulus’ eyes seemed to be drawn to her and he smiled and waved over to her, giving her a bit of needed confidence as she walked over to the table. They were sitting across from each other at the end and she realised her only two options were to sit next to Regulus or sit down next to Evan.
She sat down next to Regulus.
She took her coat off as she greeted them, feeling their eyes on her and making her want to put her coat back on. Was she not meant to change after work?
She sat down quickly and looked over at Regulus who was already smiling at her.
“So, I’m assuming you’ve already started?”
“You’re assuming right,” Evan said, finishing whatever was left in his glass. “Meaning you need to catch up.”
“Oh no,” she said, trying to give them a convincing smile, “I’m okay.” Evan was already standing up to go get another round of drinks and he gave her a confused look.
“C’mon,” he said, “it’s on me.”
She didn’t really want to be drinking at her first work function, but then the safety manager appeared and said, “Oh good, Evan’s getting us some drinks. I’ll get a firewhiskey please.”
She suddenly didn’t want to be the only one drinking.
Evan raised an eyebrow at her and she let out a deep breath.
“Okay, fine, surprise me.” He grinned at that and walked away while the safety manager sat in front of her. Thankfully, she had also changed her clothes which made her feel much better in her tight dress.
Thankfully, there wasn’t too much awkward silence because just as Evan left, Louie arrived and sat down next to her.
“How is everyone?” He asked and everyone mumbled out an answer before Louie began telling them the issues he has been having with a new supplier.
Evan came back with their drinks and placed something yellow in front of her, but before she could ask what it was the boss had arrived and everyone was saying hello.
Everyone had already started drinking and so she took a small sip from the straw coming out of the glass.
It was sour and it took everything she had not to make a face.
“Is it okay?” Regulus asked and she could taste the alcohol going down her throat.
“It’s okay,” she said, swirling the drink around with her straw. She wasn’t a big drinker, so she hoped what she was doing looked normal.
She’d drank before, mostly firewhiskey or some champagne from various events her parents and their acquaintances held, but that was about it and it was never enough to get her drunk.
“What are you drinking?” She asked him, referring to the amber liquid he had in a clear glass.
His hand was clasped around it and she couldn’t help but focus on how elongated his fingers looked as they wrapped around the wet glass.
“Firewhiskey,” he shrugged, taking another sip.
She looked up at him and mumbled out a ‘nice’.
Regulus thought this was the easy bit.
Regulus felt at ease. It was just as if she was a pretty girl he had met on a night out and he had had plenty of experience getting those pretty girls into his bed at Evan’s house.
Besides, he hadn’t done that since she had started working with him. Honestly, he hadn’t properly gone out since then and now that he was out, he was only focusing on the pretty girl in front of him.
But he put the blame on his dry spell for wanting to push her hair away from her face and he blamed the two firewhiskeys he had already had on the way he focused on her eyes looking up at him.
For a second there, he began to wonder how pretty she’d be looking up at him in a different position. But that was a dangerous thought and he was glad Evan had made her look away from him when he exclaimed, “I’m starving.”
She took her time sipping her drink, not really wanting to have another and not wanting to get drunk really fast, so by the time everyone finished eating she had also finished her drink.
Regulus had finished the firewhiskey Evan had got for him, but he seemed to be taking a break because when Evan got up again to get another drink, he politely declined.
She still had a bit of her own drink at that time, and she almost winced when she took another sip of it. Another reason it was taking her so long to finish it, it was much too sour for her.
That had been almost half an hour ago, but now everyone was finished and the boss had gone quickly to the bathroom leaving them to make their own small talk.
Louie was telling a story about his time at school and she was listening respectfully, until she felt a hand on her shoulder.
Her whole body froze.
Not too many people usually touched her, so when they did it seemed her body didn’t know how to react. But she forced herself to turn around to see Regulus looking at her.
“Want to come up with me to get another drink?” She didn’t, really, but Louie had finished his story and there was the tiniest awkward lull in the conversation that she didn’t want to stay around for, so she nodded and got up with him.
“Another?” Regulus asked Evan who nodded even though he still had half a glass.
Louie and the safety manager said they needed a break and so she followed Regulus up to the bar.
The lights were on but they were dim and it was very busy considering it was a Friday and most people came here after work and after she had been locked behind two people who Regulus had managed to push past, but wouldn’t let her through, Regulus put his hand out to her.
When she only looked at it he giggled and took her hand in his.
Her hand was cold and she noticed that his was bony. She left it limp in his even though he held on tight to her and pulled her through the crowd.
When they got there he let go and her palm felt awfully warm compared to her other.
“What do you want?” He asked when they got in line.
Shit, she thought, I don’t know.
“Uhm,” she said, trying to think, “surprise me?” She asked.
“Sure,” he said.
“But not what Evan gave me.”
“What did Evan give you?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. They had to shout slightly over everyone else’s conversations and it seemed Regulus had moved his head closer to hers so he could hear. “But it was too sour.”
“Would you prefer something sweet?” She thought about it.
“Yes please.”
She stood behind him while he told the bartender his order. She noticed the little vein on his neck had made an appearance again so she made herself look away.
He turned around to face her and she took a step forward after the person next to him left so they were facing each other, their sides to the bar.
For some reason, her words were caught in her throat and she couldn’t think of a single thing to say to the man in front of her. He had a polite look on his face and she couldn’t help but think how weird it was that out of all the people in the office, Regulus Black was the one she had befriended.
They stood there, not saying anything for apparently Regulus also couldn’t seem to find the right words to say to her.
It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t ideal, Regulus thought, he needed to be cool and charming and staring at her like an idiot was anything but that.
Thankfully, the bartender had finished their drinks and she grabbed hers while Regulus got his and Evans.
This time she followed close behind him so they wouldn’t get parted, considering Regulus’ hands were too full to hold hers again.
They put their drinks down and went back to their seats. When she put hers down and took a sip she hummed in content.
“This is much better,” she told him, “thank you.” He smiled.
“You’re welcome.”
They were smiling at each other until Evan chimed in.
“So, do you have a boyfriend?” Evan asked and she let go of her drink and placed her hands on her lap.
Regulus gave him an annoyed look.
“I still haven’t found out if she has a boyfriend.” Regulus admitted when he and Evan had got the Leaky Cauldron early and Evan made a comment about what she would be wearing.
“Seriously?” Evan asked, “mate, you kinda need to. If she does then this whole bet is off and you can stop doing whatever you’re doing.”
“It’s just never felt appropriate.” Evan didn’t say anything so Regulus changed the subject, but if he knew what his friend was plotting he would’ve made him swear not to say anything.
“I don’t,” she said, looking straight at Evan.
“A girlfriend?” He asked.
“No,” she said.
“Me neither,” Evan said, taking another sip from his drink.
“That girl I was telling you about hasn’t owled me back since last last Thursday.”
She was surprised that he was looking at her while he spoke. As if she should remember the girl he had taken on a date last week that she specifically told him she didn’t care about.
“Sorry,” she said, even though she was sure the girl could do better than Evan.
“It’s fine,” he said, “Reggie here is single as well.” Regulus felt the heat rush to his cheeks so he took a sip of his drink to hide it.
She turned to look at him. He had a very angular face and the way his neck moved as he drank from his glass made her look away and take a sip of her own drink to hopefully cool herself down.
This drink was a nice shade of pink and she found that now she was actually enjoying the taste of it, it was easier to drink.
When Evan excused himself to go to the bathroom, Regulus turned to her.
“How was your friend thing last weekend?” Regulus asked and she was surprised he remembered.
“It was good,” she said, not wanting to admit that the whole time she was thinking about him.
“That’s good,” he said, “your lip isn’t bruised.” He motioned to his own lip and she smiled.
“Yeah, I did a spell.” He nodded.
“You know,” he said, “I’m glad you decided to work here, you’re a lot better than the old guy you replaced.”
“I’m glad I decided to work here as well.” She admitted, thinking that she must be starting to feel the effects of those two drinks because that wasn’t something she wanted Regulus Black to know.
“What was that?” Regulus asked, a small smirk tugging on his lips. She gave him an unimpressed look. Trust him to make her repeat it.
“I’m glad I decided to work here,” she said unenthusiastically.
“I can’t hear you,” he said and in a swift motion he grabbed onto her chair and pulled it closer to him.
She looked up at him, her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide.
Regulus bit back a smirk. He’d lost count of the amount of times he’d done that to a pretty girl in this pub and each time it had the desired effect.
“Could you repeat yourself?” He asked innocently and she tried to regain her composure and remember how to speak.
“I’m glad I decided to work here,” she said for a third time. “You and Evan sometimes aren’t that bad, but,” she said dramatically, “you’re both still on thin ice.”
Regulus thought that she was full of shit.
Maybe Evan was still on thin ice but he thought he had a pretty good foundation with her now.
They were much closer together now. Her chair was touching his and if she relaxed, her knee would be touching his. His face was barely centimetres away from her when they turned to talk to the other and Regulus was feeling good.
Especially when she went to take a sip of her drink and for some reason, finally decided to relax, meaning now their legs were touching.
When Evan came back, he had another three drinks in his hand and he put them down.
She thought they were really good at holding their alcohol because she was already feeling the effects of her two drinks and they were much more ahead of her, without even seeming drunk.
They chatted happily amongst each other. Most times it was just the three of them chatting together considering they were the closest in age and had gone to Hogwarts together, but at times it would go down the end of the table and everyone was laughing at something stupid Evan had said.
Evan kept excusing himself either to go to the bathroom or to get another drink, but when he brought back her fourth, and last she told herself, drink he came back with another girl.
It was late and so the boss and the safety manager had left, but when Evan came back with this girl, Louie excused himself as well and left.
She wasn’t sure if she was meant to leave too. Did Regulus want to go find his own girl to bring back? But before she could think about it for a second longer, Regulus put his palm flat against her bicep and whispered in her ear, “please don’t leave me with them.” She pulled back to look at him and he had a small smile on his face, but the look in his eyes was sincere so she nodded.
In a way, she was glad that she was being forced to stay here, because if Regulus hadn’t said anything she probably would have gone home and spent the rest of the night wondering what the two boys were up to.
The girl introduced herself and they put together that she was a Ravenclaw in the year below them at Hogwarts.
When she finished her drink Evan took her back up to the bar to get another, without offering her and Regulus one.
“You don’t have anywhere else to be tonight, right?” Her chair was still extremely close to Regulus’ meaning so was she, and when Regulus turned to her they were so close that he didn’t have to scream.
She shook her head. “I mean, my parents will probably have a heart attack that I’m home so late, but they’ll live.” She regretted it as soon as it left her lips. She did not need Regulus Black knowing anything about her family.
But Regulus was a Black and he knew a thing or two about noble families.
He gave an understanding nod.
“Are your parents just like ours as well?” She wasn’t sure what he meant by that but she nodded anyway.
“Worse.” Regulus understood, he really did. He knew the girl sitting in front of him was wired so taut that any sudden movements could cause a snap, but he never considered why she was so stuck up.
“My mother still makes me send an owl to her when I get home,” he said.
“Don’t you live at home with them?” She asked.
“Yeah but when I go out I usually go back to Evan’s.” with a pretty girl, he thought, but chose not to say. “Evan lives by himself.”
She was taken aback by that.
“Really?”
“Yeah, his parents bought him a house. I don’t think they wanted him at home any longer than he needed to be.” She laughed and he smiled at her.
“I don’t blame them.”
“Do you still live with your parents?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think they’ll buy me a house, I’ll probably get our manor.” She shrugged her shoulders and quickly looked away.
“Yeah, mine won’t either unless I bring someone home to them.”
“Are your parents old fashioned as well?” She asked. She’d gone her whole life thinking no one’s parents could ever compare to hers, and she still thought her parents would always be worse, but maybe there were some similarities.
“Old fashion is an understatement.” She bit her lip. Her brain was telling her not to do it. Her brain was telling her that as soon as she said it she’d regret it, but she still opened her mouth and said, “My parents are the reason I originally gave up this job.”
Regulus shot her a quizzical look and waited for her to continue and for some reason, she did.
“They wanted me to work in the Ministry, but I didn’t want to.”
“They work in the Ministry, right?” Regulus asked, already knowing the answer. She nodded. “Did they try to get you a job there?” She nodded again.
“At first they made me apply because they didn’t want anyone to say I only got in because of my name, and, of course, I got it,” she took a breath, “but I turned it down and told my parents I didn’t get it.” Regulus was listening intently and it gave her the confidence she needed to continue. “So then they tried giving me one, but I,” she trailed off, “I refused.”
The way she said it and turned to look down at the table made Regulus think that wasn’t the entire story.
“You refused?” He asked, hoping she’d continue.
“I refused,” she confirmed, looking back up at him. “I didn’t show up to work and whenever they tried to talk to me about it I apparated away.” She said it really quickly and Regulus was already laughing. “I’m not proud of it, but when I told them I wanted to work here they were so sick of me being dramatic that they finally let me so I guess it was fine.”
Regulus didn’t expect anything less from her. He hadn’t really considered it before, but if he had to imagine what she’d be like at home that’s exactly how he’d imagine her. Spoiled and bratty.
Two things that he was recently struggling to associate with the girl in front of him who had been much kinder to him this past week.
He was laughing and she was hiding her face in her hands and Regulus was hoping that by the next time she’d do that, he’d be confident enough to move them away.
“I think they only gave me this job after you declined,” he said, no longer feeling annoyed by that thought, meaning he had drunk enough for the night.
“Maybe,” she said, “maybe you would have applied this year instead.” She looked up at him innocently and he couldn’t help but smile.
Regulus had a theory that talking about your bad relationship with your family brought two people together and she was already sharing it with Regulus after only a month.
Merlin, he’d probably be five hundred galleons richer before the new year.
She realised how empty the table felt now that it was just her and Regulus sitting there.
“Reggie.” Suddenly Evan was beside Regulus, his hands on his shoulders leaning down to whisper in his ear, even though it wasn’t much of a whisper considering she could hear him. “Don’t rush home.” He gave her a wink to which she visibly grimaced and he pressed his palm flat to Regulus’ cheek before giving it a quick kiss and then leaving them.
“Great,” Regulus huffed, “you don’t have to stay any more if you don’t want to.”
“It’s okay,” she shrugged, “I’ll keep you company.” She was hoping the effects of the alcohol would start to wear off, but considering she wanted to spend more time with Regulus Black, she was starting to think that it hadn’t.
But they had become closer in her month here, and she wasn’t hating it. In her drunken state, she may have even called him a friend.
“Besides,” she continued, “you stayed with me at the hospital so I guess I’ll pay you back.” He laughed.
“Thanks,” there was a slight pause, “honestly, I’m giving him an hour and even that is a bit of an overestimation.”
The meaning of his words took a few seconds for her to understand and he waited patiently, trying to keep his face neutral as he saw the realisation dawn on her face.
At first, her mouth opened slightly and her eyes widened, but then the lines of disgust were starting to appear and soon her face was etched into one of uncomfort.
He laughed.
“That’s,” she paused, trying to find the right word, “interesting.”
“I love Evan,” he said, “but he is hopeless.”
“Is he the only one who calls you Reggie?”
Regulus hated being called Reggie. It had started back at Hogwarts when a few girls had started calling him that and he hated the way it sounded like they were whining every time it left their lips.
He had disclosed this with Evan one night who, of course, thought it was hilarious and started calling him that ironically until, as ironic things usually do, became unironic.
But it dawned on Regulus how little he had ever heard her say his name and for some reason, he didn’t mind the way the nickname fell from her lips,
Her very pretty lips that he had bruised. The very pretty lips he had watched the healer touch and squish together. The very pretty lips that he suddenly really wanted to kiss.
Fuck, he thought, I’m drunk.
“Uhm,” he mumbled, trying to remember what she had asked him. “Oh, yeah,” he said when he remembered, she gave him a funny look. “Only Evan calls me that, it’s an inside joke.” He wasn’t sure if he was meant to explain the inside joke, but he had enough experience to know that it wasn’t appropriate to talk about your ex flings with someone you’re trying to make your current fling, so he changed the subject.
“Are you excited for the game this weekend?” It was the Quidditch world final and she nodded eagerly at the question.
“Always, are you?” And so they began talking about who they think would win and the embarrassing teams they went for as children and who they think should be kicked off next season.
After their laughter died down they both seemed to realise that there weren’t many people left at the Leaky Cauldron. Only the waiter and another group of people in the corner.
“I guess I should go make sure Evan is still alive,” Regulus sighed and she giggled, her heart doing something funny in her chest.
“I better make sure my parents haven’t sent out a search party for me.”
“It was nice talking to you,” Regulus said as if he was genuinely surprised about this.
“It was okay,” she said, smirking at him so he knew she was joking.
If this wasn’t her, Regulus would have asked her back to Evan’s much earlier. They knew the drill by now.
Whoever was home first put up the silence charm and then the next would do it when they got there. And he knew Evan who would have done the silencing charm just in case Regulus brought her back, so really, it would have been perfect.
But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He told himself it was just because this was still too early in the game and he risked getting rejected, but he was telling himself that so many times that it started to sound like he was convincing himself of that.
Regardless, they both apparated home, their hearts full as they steadied themselves, not convinced that it was apparating while drinking that was making them dizzy.
The five hundred galleons suddenly seemed to weigh a lot more on Regulus’ shoulders and he was reminded of this next morning when Evan came to join him at the breakfast table, the girl from last night long gone.
“Why didn’t you bring her back?” Was the first thing Evan asked.
Regulus thought it’d be easier to say he rejected her than have to explain the real reason.
“She was drunk,” he said instead, which was still one of his main concerns.
“And? So were you?”
“I don’t want to rush it,” he said and the tone that he used made Evan change the subject.
#regulus black#regulus black imagine#regulus black angst#regulus black series#regulus black blurb#harry potter#harry potter imagine#harry potter angst#harry potter blurb#marauders#marauders blurb#marauders angst#marauders imagine#rb#rbi#rba
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Here's the Harvey fic I promised :) I'll put a cut because she's a little lengthy
~**~
Emilia had died late last night. 5 hours ago, 4 in the morning, William and Charles came by to help bury her. Harvey hadn’t moved since then, hadn’t spoken a word all day. He sat and stared at the grave and tried to wrap his head around the situation. It was his youngest sister’s fault for saying he spent too much time with his wife, it was his boss’ fault for firing him, it was totally and entirely his fault for not saving her sooner — in fact, she wasn’t even dead. She couldn’t be. She’d come out of the house any second and scold him for sitting outside without a jacket in the middle of winter, and he’d gladly come back in with her.
Three more hours pass and she still hasn’t come. They feel like nothing at all. William comes back over to tell him to go inside, for God’s sake. Harvey hardly realizes he’s there.
The next time he’s aware of his surroundings he’s inside again, lying on their bed fully dressed. He doesn’t remember getting up, he doesn’t even register it in his mind. The only thing he can think about is how empty the house is. Emilia should be here, lying next to him, chastising him for tracking dirt on the floor, singing in the kitchen. He’s never been able to sleep on his back but he can’t stand to face the empty blankets to his right.
He’s awake again, the phone is ringing. It’s definitely still dark out, though he can’t tell how much time has passed. Instinctively he gets up to pick up the phone, but he finds himself completely unable to form a sentence. The phone stops ringing. He presses his palms against his eyes to try and stop the migraine he can feel coming on, but the attempt is fruitless. He slips his jacket over his shoulders and leaves the house to buy smokes for the first time in 10 years.
Harvey is standing in an alley and smoking. He can’t even recall the last time he did this. Surprisingly, leaving the house cleared his head a significant amount. He’s aware of his surroundings at least for the most part now. There’s two men standing on the porch of a business around the corner from him, talking loud enough for him to hear loud and clear.
“You know, this whole… ‘Depression’ nonsense is really getting to me, Dick. I mean, honestly…! The way I see it – if the ‘poor’ didn’t have the financial stability to survive, they weren’t working hard enough to deserve to be alive. Who are we to dispute God’s choice to save this country from the weak and lazy?”
Harvey stopped listening. His blood boiled, his vision went red. He could hear nothing more than his own heart pounding in his chest. Suddenly, everything was hazy again. He only got small snippets of consciousness, it felt like he wasn’t able to control his own actions, just watched as he moved independently of himself. He found himself walking back to his house, then standing in the same alley tightly gripping a knife he vaguely recognized. The man who’d been talking passed by him without paying him any mind, he was without the other person now. Harvey followed him, stalked him to a large house in a secluded area. The next thing he knew, he was standing by a river bank, covered in blood, pushing a very heavy bag into the water. He didn’t know where the knife was.
It was morning, Harvey was sitting on the bed again. He’s wearing clean clothes again, the knife is still nowhere in sight. It was nearly like nothing had happened, if not for the overpowering stench of blood. He stood to investigate the smell, it seemed as though every bone in his body was aching.
Three weeks had passed since the murder– he’d decided he’d definitely murdered the man, though he couldn’t recall it clearly – and Harvey could not find a single reason to feel guilt about it. He was shocked, really, breaking the law with a clean conscience was very unlike him. His head was unusually clear, and after much sitting at Emilia’s grave and speaking to her aloud, he’d determined that it was in self defense and it was completely necessary that he defend his wife’s honor and memory against the man. The only regret he held was that he didn’t cause more suffering for the class that killed his wife. He hadn’t truly committed any crime in his own eyes.
Harvey was walking by the river, it was swarming with police officers. A bag had been dragged onto the bank. One of the men was holding the knife he’d lost. That night, he’d said goodbye to Emilia and left town without saying a word to anybody.
~**~
Harvey didn’t know where he was. He’d taken a train an hour out and was staying in a hotel. He’d hardly had the money to eat – not that he really had before, but it had gotten easier since only needing to find food for one person – and found that the only thing ever on his mind was how much he regretted leaving Emilia and how badly he needed to get revenge on everyone who had forced him to. He’d taken the blame all the way up to the imagined source, and decided somebody needed to bring down the authority of President Hoover, one way or another. Hoover was the one who prolonged the economic crisis, Hoover was the one who took his job from him, Hoover was the one who wouldn’t provide support when Harvey’s wife was in the hospital, Hoover was the one who needed to pay for his crimes. Not Harvey.
The money problem was getting worse. He couldn’t eat anymore. He was at a pawn shop selling his wedding ring. He wasn’t totally sure why he couldn’t just let himself starve, it wasn’t like he had a home to go back to, or a wife, or a family, as soon as they found out what he’d gone and done. He knew, deep down, it was for the same reason why he hadn’t turned himself in to the police in the first place: he wasn’t done avenging Emilia. He needed to do more. He needed to ensure that the same fate wasn’t brought upon another man’s wife. He couldn’t die until he’d fixed the problem.
The owner of the shop had his back turned to Harvey, giving him some speech he hadn’t listened to a word of. Harvey’s eyes absentmindedly scanned the shop. His gaze fell onto a gun lying right out on the counter in front of him. It was a revolver, relatively small, .22 caliber, only around 10 years out of date. A million thoughts flashed through his head at once. Picking up the gun and checking quickly that the owner wasn’t looking at him, Harvey tucked it under his shirt and put his jacket on to conceal the silhouette. He picked his ring back up off the counter.
“On second thought… I don’t think I’m ready to sell this,” He interrupted
The owner’s eyebrows raised, he stopped talking and turned back to face Harvey again.
“Oh. Are you sure? Of course, we could–”
Harvey quickly nodded and made for the door, feigning intense emotion. Not that he didn’t genuinely feel upset to have nearly sold it, he simply had a mission to complete and no time to spare on extensive explanations or emotional outbursts.
~**~
After a few days’ travel across a few trains, gun and stolen bullets hidden deep within his suitcase, Harvey had arrived in Washington, D.C. His mind was clearer than it had been in weeks, his goal defined and within reach. Hoover was holding a rally, a place for rich supporters to celebrate his utter failure of a term. Harvey was completely disgusted by the concept, but excited by the chance to get an easy shot at him.
The convention was truly a marvel, like a trainwreck that was gruesome and impossible to look away from. The nicest suits Harvey had ever seen on people so visibly hedonistic and immoral. Everyone there looked at him with scrutiny, as though he were some sort of vermin with his tattered jacket and uncombed hair. He brushed them all off, it didn’t matter how they looked upon him now, when they’d all be distraught and horrified when they watched him leave. He wasn’t here to prove anything, he was here to make these men pay for what they’d done to his Emilia. That was all that mattered now.
The plan was simple. The gun was hidden within a pocket sewed to the inside of his jacket. Hoover would walk up in front of the crowd and begin his speech. Harvey would weasel his way to the front – he was thin from not eating and quite tall, it would not be difficult – he would feign interest, emotion. He would reach into his jacket under the guise of going for a handkerchief, pull out his revolver. Shoot Hoover four times at point-blank range. Hoover would die, Harvey would be taken by police, tried for assassination, and would take the death penalty glady knowing that he’d avenged Emilia and was going to return to her. It was perfect, foolproof.
But, then… Hoover came in front of the crowd. Harvey looked the man who killed his wife in the eyes for the first time in his life. He couldn’t wait. He couldn’t risk it. He needed Hoover to die immediately, he couldn’t risk it. He was consumed by a blind rage, an unstoppable hunger for Hoover’s death, and he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t risk missing his chance to make them all pay.
Harvey pulled the gun from his pocket and shot four rounds at him. The speech ended abruptly. Screams rang out, cries of shock and pain. He was tackled by a security guard. His glasses broke when he hit the ground, glass flattened against his face and stuck deep into the skin and muscle under his eye. More guards piled on top of him. Everyone was yelling. His nose was pressed to the ground, his shoulder on top of it. He couldn’t breathe. He felt the gun pulled from under his body, felt himself being pulled to his feet. A man with very large hands grabbed him by the throat. Handcuffs were fastened around his wrists so tightly he could have sworn he was bleeding. He tried to turn his head to see if he’d hit Hoover, his head was forcefully snapped back into place. He was dragged from the scene into a police car. Everything was so damn loud.
~**~
Harvey was sitting in a prison. He’d been stripped of everything except for an undershirt and pants, he was freezing cold. The glass embedded in his face had caused his right eye to swell shut. It felt like he could feel every bruise on his body, and they were everywhere. There was an officer going through his suitcase across the room, and at least thirteen others, armed, with guns pointing at him. He didn’t know where he was, and he didn’t know if he’d succeeded.
He’d been interrogated what felt like a hundred times. He admitted to everything – the murder, the theft, evading arrest, assassination – nobody would tell him if Hoover was dead or not. It felt like they wanted more information, like he wasn’t telling them something he didn’t know he wasn’t telling them. One of the interrogation officers asked if he’d murdered his Emilia. He didn’t answer questions from that man anymore.
Harvey was sitting in a courtroom, he’d finally been given his clothes back. He was looking through his good eye across the room at his family. Why they’d chosen to come he didn’t know. Most of his siblings were looking anywhere they could that wasn’t at Harvey, like they couldn’t handle that their oldest brother had turned from such a sweet and caring man into a monster. They didn’t understand. His youngest brother, Calvin, looked up and met his gaze. Why his mother had ever decided that it was appropriate for a sixteen-year-old boy to watch his own brother be sentenced to death he didn’t know. Harvey offered a slight smile in his direction, he honestly felt bad that he had to be here. Calvin looked back down at his shoes without returning it. Probably for the best.
~**~
Harvey was found guilty of attempted assination, murder in the 1st degree, resisting arrest, and two counts of theft. He was sentenced to execution by electric chair. His mother weeped, the only upset person in the room aside from Harvey. He had failed completely and was going to die for it. Maybe it was for the best. He wouldn’t have been able to avenge Emilia in prison for the rest of his life. He’d done his best, and it wasn’t good enough. He didn’t deserve a second chance. Should’ve waited.
He was allowed a guarded meeting with his family before he was put back in his cell to wait for his execution. He didn’t want to meet with his family. He’d not been given a choice.
Mrs. Schwarz had yet to stop crying since he was sentenced. He couldn’t meet her gaze, nor could he respond to her angry questioning. William was the closest in age to Harvey, and he simply looked disappointed. Louise sat with her head in her hands. Minnie cussed him out upon entering the room and hadn’t said a single word since. Calvin was just staring at him. Calvin shouldn’t have been there. He was far too young to understand what was happening. He’d never completely recover from this. Charles said everyone thought he’d killed himself, asked him why he would ever do what he did. He didn’t respond.
~**~
Three weeks had passed since he’d spoken with his family. It was the date of his execution. He had to finally face the repercussions of his actions.
For his last day alive, Harvey was surprisingly unaffected.
The guards asked for his final meal. He told them he didn’t want any food, just a minute completely alone to speak with his Emilia. His request was denied.
He was strapped into the chair. His heartbeat quickened. He swore at himself internally, now really was not the time to get anxious.
There were people in the room. Hoover supporters, excited to see him get his comeuppance for challenging their precious worldview. His brother William was there, the rest of his family returned to their homes because they couldn’t afford to lose their jobs. There was a photographer who seemed young and inexperienced, his camera in hand, resting at his side instead of taking pictures. Not a single person he was happy to see in his final moments.
The man standing in front of the crowd was giving a speech he couldn’t bring himself to listen to about how wonderful of a man Herbet Hoover was. He was disgusted that such words would be spoken in his presence right before his death. He was too exhausted to say anything about it.
The speech finished. The speaker turned to give the executioner a look of approval. He moved out of the way so everyone could watch. This was it.
Harvey’s last thought was not about his own death, nor about the people in the room, nor about Hoover. Harvey Schwarz’s last thought was about his wife, Emilia, just as it was meant to be. He was going to return to her at last, and he'd never been happier.
~**~
#My blood sugar is QUITE high so I reckon I'm gonna go lie down but I hope u enjoy!!#I don't actually recall if this is good or not but I started crying at 3 am last night trying to finish it so it was sad then at least#don't listen to duffy I'm not paying anybody's therapy bills over this . my own therapist charges up the ass i don't have the finances (/J)#I prommy harvey isn't always this obsessive and weird he's just goin through it#okay that should be all#Harvey Schwarz#my writing
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Whumptober Day 28: Punching the Wall
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.
“Jess.”
Sam sits on the side of their bed, the empty bottle of tequila lying sideways on the floor. Two weeks ago, she’d have chided him for drinking in bed. Two weeks ago, she’d’ve rolled her eyes, rolled him over on his side, grabbed the bottle and tossed it in the recycling, gotten him a glass of water and some ibuprofen, snuggled down under the covers next to him to await the inevitable hangover.
A lot can change in two weeks.
“Something you want to tell me, Sam?”
She’s fixing her hair in the tiny bathroom vanity, across the room from the bed—like a setup in a motel, she finds herself thinking as she twines another lock of hair around the curling iron. She can see Sam in the mirror, head hanging, hands planted on the edge of the bed to either side. She wonders, briefly, what it must be like, downing an entire bottle of tequila—Sam’s bigger than she is, but he doesn’t drink often, and that’s a lot of liquor. Is the room swaying beneath him yet? Should she clear the way to the toilet, in case he has to hurl?
“Don’t wanna tell you, is the problem.”
His head is bobbing slightly from side to side—the spins must be kicking in. She ignores the words. He’s had two weeks to answer her question—to tell her something, anything, about his past. His family. Why he won’t speak to his brother. What he’s so terrified of.
He won’t, is the problem.
It’s not that she expects a detailed autobiography. She knew going in that he was quiet, that he didn’t talk about his past. But she knows, now, or at least knows some. Knows enough to know that there’s more out there. Knows enough to know that they could be in danger—that she could be in danger. And he refuses to tell her anything. Like she’s some wilting flower, too delicate to handle it.
She’ll accept his quietude. She won’t accept his contempt.
Besides, the Nokia burner in her coat pocket has a message. salt n burn in ur town 2night. fr real this time. u in?
She finishes with the curling iron, unplugs it (safety first, she hears her mother say, and wants to laugh at the absurdity of it). Fluffs out her hair, starts applying a little eyebrow pencil. Not like the ghosts are going to care if she’s properly gussied up, but who knows? Maybe it’ll be a quick job, and they’ll go dancing afterward. Maybe she’ll let her friends see her with Dean, get some rumors flying—he’s handsome enough, for sure. She stifles a laugh, imagining her classmates seeing her after the last job they did together—god, what would they have made of her, streaked with ash and covered in dirt and leaves tangled in her hair and no shirt and—
—I can smell him on you—
The eyeliner pencil misses. She mutters a curse, grabs a Q-tip to smudge away the errant line. Even now, remembering that tone in Sam’s voice is enough to warm her through; even now, a tingle deep inside her blossoms up and out, remembering the way he’d fucked her that morning.
Shame he hasn’t touched her in the two weeks since—
“Jess. ‘S not just the past.”
He looks up, and the vanity light catches his eyes, glints to let her know she’s being watched. “It’s the future, too. You don’t want this. Don’t wanna be part of this.”
“Not really sure how you’d know what I want, since you’ve barely spoken to me since I met Dean.” The eyelash curler now, tugging cruelly against her lashes as she presses it tight—these ghosts had better appreciate my efforts. “Or are you a psychic, too?”
He flinches at that, and the moment of triumph eases the sting of the curler. “You don’t understand,” he says, with the dogged and useless patience of the drunk.
Mascara, waterproof, two coats. Do they make ghost-proof mascara? “Maybe I’m sick of you telling me what I want, or what I understand. Maybe I just need to find out for myself. Had you considered that?”
Silence from the bed. She adds a touch of blush, carefully pencils in her lip line, and she’s done. Nothing over the top, just a little extra. A little more. A newer Jess, ready for a different sort of evening. A new direction—
She turns out the vanity light, plunging the room into dimness, the only light from the streetlamp directly outside their bedroom window. She has to walk past him to go through the door and leave; she hopes he’ll be too drunk, delayed by the lowered lighting, to stop her—
“Jess.” He catches her wrist, and she sighs in exasperation—only to catch her breath at his next words. “Jess, you need to know something about me.”
She resists the urge to bite her lip—she just put the gloss on, she reminds herself. She turns to him, does her best to hide her exasperation, to pitch her voice gentle and encouraging—maybe two weeks and an entire bottle of liquid courage is just the price of admission for Sam to talk. “What is it, Sam?”
“I’m not…good.” He sways slightly to the side, his eyes struggling to focus on her. “Dean is. He’s good. He’s the good son, always does the right thing. I’m…not. Thought I could be, here. At school.” He stops, blinks, as if he’s lost his train of thought—but then he wrests it back again, keeps going. “Thought I could be for you.”
She’s barely breathing—it’s the first time he’s spoken Dean’s name since her birthday (their birthday), months before. “He told me a bit about you,” she says. “Told me how unhappy you were.”
“Not just unhappy. Not…good.” He shakes his head, as if he’s trying to clear it, to emphasize the point. “Jess. I’m not good for anyone. Be better if…you left.”
She wonders, for a moment, if there’s an opposite of adrenaline. Something that shoots a numbness through your limbs, freezes you in the middle of the highway despite the semi you can see barrelling towards you. “Sam—”
“Could save your life,” he insists, putting his hands up against either side of her face. Staring up into her eyes, desperate for her to listen. “Please, Jess. Don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Then stop pushing me away!” The numbness flashes back into adrenaline; she tugs her head out of his grasp, spins, punches the wall. It doesn’t even hurt, though she suspects her knuckles will send her the bill later. “I’m asking you to do one simple thing, Sam. Just be honest. Answer my question. Why didn’t you tell me what your family does? Why won’t you talk about it now? What happened that was so terrible?” She’s blinking back tears, all of a sudden, terrified of ruining her eyeliner. “Don’t you care about us at all?”
Sam looks up at her for a moment, lost—then snorts a laugh and looks away. “You’re the one running off to fuck my brother.”
“You’re wrong.” It’s humming in her now, an aperitif of the danger and excitement she’s expecting from the evening. “We’re going to banish a ghost together, hopefully save some folks a lot of trouble, maybe even a few lives.” Sam’s looking at her again, opens his mouth, but she’s not done talking. “And I’m going to ask him things, and he’s going to explain, and I’m going to learn more about you in one night than I have from years of living together.” She leans in again, practically daring him to touch her, each word a barbed hook set into his flesh. “And then I’m going to fuck your brother.”
“You’ll be thinking of me.” Sam’s words return the favor, hooks ripping into her gut, gouging out the messiness she tries so hard to hold in, spilling it all in the space between them.
She laughs, a little ragged. “Unless I’m completely off-base, we’ll both be thinking of you.” And she turns on her heel and walks out the door.
#whumptober2022#supernatural#sam winchester#jessica moore#really I should just be tagging this#winjesstober#by now#my writing
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my hobby is being my mother’s least favourite child
#cammie.txt#she hasn’t spoken more than 4 words to me in a week#and just. came into my room and shook her head#mind u it’s one in the morning#i wasn’t even. doing anything😐#also she’s banned me from the fridge... Thanks queen like my disordered eating habits needed the help#so i’m having a bit of a moment right now#what if i was suicidal😁😁 and that was my last strA#straw#not to complain but i keep thinking about my birthday and how she brought my brother a car for his and sent him to vegas then took me to a#funeral...#what did i do. queen what did i do to you#cw disordered eating#cw suicide mention#tw suicide mention#dont rb
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When they leave you on your wedding day (Sakusa, Bokuto)
Genre: angst
Word count: 1.7K
masterlist
Sakusa’s will make more sense if you read this you don’t have too but it’ll help.
Sakusa:
“Y/N,” you hear knocks on the door outside your dressing room “I-I need to talk to you.”
“But Omi, a groom must never see their bride until they meet at the alter,” you say behind the door.
“I-It’s important, and I must tell you right now.” he says a bit more intensely
“Okay, Okay... you can come in but im hiding in the closet since my dress is already on.”
“Ok.”
You hear the door open and shut, and a lot of pacing around of what you can presume was his fresh wedding shoes trotting against the hard wood floors.
“Omi,” you call wondering why he hasn’t spoken yet “Is everything okay?”
“Umm yes I-it's fine...it just I-” he says pausing
“Just what?”
“I don’t really know how to say this Y/N, I don’t really know how to say it’s just-” he says again pausing himself taking a deep breath.
“Just what Omi? Don’t tell me you’ve got cold feet love,” you say laughing at the thought of it, but your laughter ceased when you don’t hear the ‘Of course I don’t have cold feet Y/N’ that you were expecting.
“Omi?” you asked again, hoping he had he was still going to give you the response you wanted.
“Omi..” you repeated.
“Omi!” you say finally, now exiting the room (with your wedding dress on) to see why your fiance was not responding.
To your shock, Omi was sitting down on a couch with his face in his hands with soft sobs coming from his mouth and runny tears and snot coming from his eyes and nose. “Omi whats wrong?” you say loudly, alerting him,
“Y/N you look beautiful!” he says sniffling.
“Omi you were meant to say that at the alter, but now that your crying forget about the dress... what’s wrong?” you say sitting down next to him.
“I don’t know how to say this...” he starts, looking away from you
“Say what? Omi look at me...” you say feeling anxious
“We...We can’t get married today,” he says still with his eyes off you.
“What do you mean, we can’t get married.” you ask but you get no answer,
“Omi answer me,”
“Say something please!” you say turning his body so that he’s facing you, his eyes are all puffy and bloodshot from the crying and now tears are filling yours “What do you mean Omi,”
“Remember Ex’s name?” he says confusing you cause what did she have to do with anything.
“Yes I remember her, I remember vividly being the girl you cheated on her with after you claimed you were ‘breaking up with her’ so I had to tell her.” you scoff “so yes, I definitely remember Y/N, what about her?”
“We recently umm how can I say this,” he says struggling for words “reconnected... and I do truly miss her and she’s made me rethink some things, see some things...”
“And those things are?”
“I’ve always loved her, she’s always been my one. The one.” he says smiling a bit at the thought of her making you feel sick.
“But Omi what about us? What about the wedding that’s going to happen in less than an hour?”
“Im sorry Y/N I’ll tell everyone what has happened.”
“I don’t want you to do that, I want you to marry me.” you say desparetly “please Omi, why her? Why now..”
“It’s always been her, and you’ve known that.” he says standing up “The day you told her about our ONE NIGHT stand, was the day that I thought I couldn’t live on, but when you came and accepted the pathetic mess I was, I gladly dated you since I had nothing else to loose...but its been 4 years since then I'm a changed man and EX NAME is a changed girl, a forgiving girl and the spark we had wasn’t lost I guess...and Im happy now”
“But what about me?” you say crying “What about me? And my happiness, don’t I deserve that? Don’t I deserve to finally be happy.”
“Y/N, you do deserve to be happy. But not with me, not at the stake of my own happiness, I wont allow it.”
“Omi bu-”
“God Y/N, don’t be so desperate!” he said agressively “Im sorry for stopping the wedding, I know your parents have put in alot of money in it and I will certainly pay them back... in due time of course.”
“You’re sorry for stopping the wedding?” you say angrily “Not sorry for stopping this relationship. Stopping the longlasting feelings ive felt for you since the day I met you?”
“Cut the crap Y/N, all we did was have one night stand.” he says rolling his eyes and unbuttoning his top botton of his shirt and loosening his tie I dont know why but this Is what guys do when theyre mad in the movies.
“Your such a liar Omi, you used to come into my work place everyday flirting with me talking about how much you wanted me, PINING AFTER ME, making me fall in love with you and not even telling me you had a girlfriend at the time.” you yell “and you summarise that all to me falling in love with you after one measly one night stand.”
“I don’t want to do this Y/N,” he says heading to the door “We’re finished. No more wedding. No marriage. And definitely don’t contact me after this. We’re through.” he slams the door behind him, leaving you alone and jilted in your wedding dress.
You get why he broke it off with you, and technically you do play a small part to blame. You were the one that told his girlfriend that you slept with him and then dated him afterwards, so I guess ‘how you get them, is how you lose them’ definitely works in this case.
Bokuto
The bokuto and L/N wedding was going to be a joyous occasion. Your soon to be husband told everybody he saw that he were to be wed with you, he couldn’t contain his excitement.
“Bokuto calm down, we’ll be married soon.” was what you always said, whenever he started his rambles to which he always replied “I know Y/N, I cant wait.”
When it came to your grand day, you were excited from the moment you woke up you were buzzing, wondering if Bokuto was feeling even a half of the feelings that you felt.
You looked beautiful in your dress, anticipating the look on Bokuto’s face when he sees you at that alter. Your wedding party was already at the hotel you were getting married at whilst Bokuto’s got ready at the houe and decided to drive there.
So after you got ready, all you had to do is wait for Kuroo, one of Bokuto’s best men, to tell you when it’s time for you to walk down the aisle.
You were impatient, your leg was shaking now you knew how Bokuto felt when he rambled on how excited he was for you to become Bokuto Y/N. You finally heard a knock on the door and you dashed to open it,
“Kuroo, thank god you’re here!” you exclaim giving him a hug “I’ve been waiting ages for you, lets go! Take me to my future husband.” You pull his arm practically trying to run and see your man before Kuroo pulls your arm halting you.
“Y/N...” he says shifting his eye sight from left to right “I think we should sit down for a minute.”
“Why? Is he not here yet, gosh he’s always been late to things” you joke “but fine we can sit for a minute or two.”
As you sat, Kuroo turns his body to you putting his hands on your knees with his eyes looking sad “Y/N. I don’t know how to say this but...” he gulps putting his head down “there’s been an accident.”
“Accident? What do you mean accident? What happened? Is everyone okay.” you ask a bit frantically, since it would sad for someone to be hurt on your wedding day.
“That’s the thing Y/N, Bokuto he..”
“Bokuto what? He’s okay.. Right?” you ask staring at Kuroo “He’s fine right?”
“No he isnt,” he says
“What do you mean he isn’t what happened, where is he? I need to see him.” you say getting up before Kuroo pulls you back down.
“He isn’t anywhere... well anywhere for you to see him. There weren’t enough cars for us, well there were but one of them the engine wasn’t starting and it sound a bit dodgy. But Bokuto said, he insisted for us all to be there. I even offered to let him take my spot in the other cars, I did Y/N I really did, but he promised us that he’d be fine. He left a bit before he did, saying that if he had chance to wander around the hotel it may calm his nerves. But when we were driving, we saw this car all mangled up on the side of the road, it was his. I told him not to drive that car, I told him and he did and I-” he rambled with tears pooling in his eyes “Im sorry Y/N im really sorry.”
“But why why didn’t you call?”
“He told us not too, he said that he wanted you be to as happy as you could be on this day as he knew it wouldn’t end with you becoming his wife.”
“But the ambulance, you called an ambulance right?”
“He was D.O.A, Akaashi went with him since he knew that he probably wouldn’t be able to deliver the news to you.”
“Why? Why did he leave me? On our wedding day, it was supposed to be our day and now hes gone Kuroo hes gone.” you wail, but kuroo wraps his arms around you in a brotherly hug as he cries too.
That’s how you spend your wedding night, crying in your friends arms over the loss of your ‘husband’ and his ‘brother.’
Bokuto’s funeral was the week after, and it was not an event you were excited for. It was a hard day to get through, but you did it with the help of Kuroo and Akaashi. You visit Bokuto every year on your wedding anniversary talking to your husband even though it always reminds you of the day that never came to be.
This is the wedding angst that is a gift from me to you sweetheart @teesumu you can totally block me after this cause girll I cried whilst writing it.
If you want a nice ending to the bokuto story to make you feel better read this
General taglist [bold can’t be tagged]: @sakuxxi, @iimoonii, @hamdehlesmis, @Shoyosupremacy, @iambashfulperson, @kayleighbeccaa, @dearkousei, @bakugouswh0r3, @xedspirits @borpcorp, @soft-angel-clouds, @foxxtrot-116 @Xogiaaa, @jesssobs, @apple-poptarts @galagcica @letssssus, @random-734, [join the taglist here]
#signedwithane😌#haikyu angst#haikyu headcanons#haikyu scenarios#haikyu#haikyuu x reader#bokuto x reader#bokuto angst#bokuto scenarios#sakusa angst#sakusa x reader#sakusa scenarios
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4 Oct. Suptober: Secrets
"Thank you for understanding," Cas said quietly behind him.
Dean turned around at that. He fought to keep his voice even. "What, exactly, am I understanding here."
au (choose ur own season! Charlie’s alive, no-one’s possessed); deancas, mildly nsfw
The ceiling in this room was strewn with runes, which shouldn't have startled Dean for at least two reasons.
First, parts of the bunker's labyrinth of corners, closets, and hidey-holes had been designed for a variety of purposes only a few of which the Men of Letters had deigned to actually write down somewhere. The rune room, by contrast, was much more straightforwardly dedicated to runology, and whichever MoL had been in charge of decorating had gone with the obvious. In addition to the books, field research, and reels on runes and the collection of tablets, boxes, knives, almanacs, placards, plates, and skins (ugh) patterned with archaic alphabets, there were whole passages of rune poetry, songs, and spells painted on all available surfaces.
Secondly, and more importantly: there were five old quilts piled on the floor behind the tallest bookcase, and while Dean had spent multiple occasions underneath this ceiling, often while flat on his back on the quilts, he was usually preoccupied with amusements more potent than whatever the hell was spelled out between the bookcase's top shelf and the wall.
"Are you going to move anytime soon?" he whispered, smiling into Cas's hair.
Cas made a small noise of protest and did not shift his weight off of Dean.
"You're heavier than you look." Dean stroked his hands down the length of Cas's back, beneath the shirt they'd rucked up but hadn't managed to remove. "Earth to Castiel." He wiggled around on the quilts a little.
Eyes screwed shut, Cas pushed himself up just enough to slide off but remain plastered to Dean's side.
Dean knocked his forehead against Cas's. "Hey."
He couldn't figure out what to say in response to the look Cas gave him then.
Bruised, Dean thought; vulnerable.
Had he somehow hurt Cas while they…?
"I'm fine, Dean," Cas said, as though that wasn't the thing they both lied to one another about on a regular basis. He chewed his lip for a moment.
"Cas--"
"I don't think we should keep doing this anymore." Cas had his eyes closed again, as if against a blinding light.
Dean blinked up at the ceiling. It was surprisingly blurry.
"All right," he offered.
"It's just." Cas swallowed. "We agreed this was not."
He moved away until he was flat on his back at the edge of the blankets. Dean's skin seemed to chase the missing warmth like it could call somehow it forth in the gap between their bodies.
"Not what," Dean said flatly.
"I don't remember what we called the arrangement." Cas sat up, reached for his boxer briefs and trousers slung over the nearest desk chair. "Casual."
Dean sat up as well, since it seemed quality time in the ol' pleasure palace had definitively ended. He wiped down quickly, with the washcloth he'd remembered to bring, put on his t-shirt and underwear while still sitting down, and stood up to tug on his jeans. His back to Cas, he put his arms into his flannel button-down and leaned against the bookcase. Nothing about getting dressed was strenuous, yet he was exhausted.
"Thank you for understanding," Cas said quietly behind him.
Dean turned around at that. He fought to keep his voice even. "What, exactly, am I understanding here."
Cas hadn't tucked in his shirt yet. The more-disheveled-than-usual wardrobe, combined with his uncombed hair and soft, sad eyes, got Dean going towards him before he even realized he was moving, tramping over the quilts.
"It's not supposed to mean anything," Cas said, like he was apologizing for some trespass Dean could only guess at. "I broke the rules."
"We didn't." Dean stopped when he was basically standing nose to nose with him, an inch or two's worth of height neither here nor there. "There weren't any rules, not really."
Because that would have required more talking, and Dean, for one, had not wanted to talk. What he'd wanted was Cas under his hands, Cas's mouth on his, Cas naked, Cas gasping, Cas inside him hot and sweet as sin and salvation. And Dean had all that, and then some, for a couple months of sneaking at random if persistent intervals into this fucking room -- literally, a fucking room -- covered all over in what may as well have been secrets. Dean didn't speak a single rune language and apparently he didn't speak Cas either.
Cas couldn't move any further away without merging with the wall. His eyes on Dean's were so--
"This hasn't been meaningless, to me," Cas said, mouth turned down as though he expected Dean to hate him for the confession.
Dean took a step backward. "It hasn't been to me either."
Cas looked at him like he'd spoken in Dalecarlian. Dean's heart clenched. He felt like he was just beginning to see the shape of what was happening, like if he looked away from Cas he would lose something precious he'd only just realized he was supposed to keep firmly in his grip.
Cas held his gaze, searching. He seemed to discover a revelation. "Oh," he said, his eyes suddenly alight.
The relief flooding over Dean was like diving into a clear, cool lake on a sweaty summer day. "Oh," he agreed, crowding into Cas's space again.
He hadn't kissed Cas but a dozen or two times in the last hour. Some remedies were easily executed.
Cas's hand tightened in his hair at the rap-rap-rappp on the door. His mouth was very red and Dean gentled the kiss without conceding it was necessary to actually stop kissing despite the interruption.
"If you guys are gonna be done with your research any time soon," Charlie called from the hallway, with a sarcastic emphasis on the word research, "Sam and I are ordering some Chinese. If, you know, you wanna eat some dinner with us later."
Dean waited until her footsteps faded. "She might be on to us."
Cas quirked an eyebrow. "Didn't you tell her what was going on almost from the start?"
Ah. Yeah, Dean had forgotten doing that. There were some real downsides to day drinking.
"And I told Sam after maybe a week," Cas said, with such innocence it only took five or six years off of Dean's life.
Dean laid his head on Cas's shoulder with a hidden groan and tried to recalibrate. "Wait. Why have we been sneaking around in here if everyone knows?"
Not that two other people equalled the entirely of their acquaintance pool, but still.
"I thought you were enjoying the secretive nature of our encounters." Cas somehow managed to sound both prim and snarky. His eyebrow was working hard.
Dean took Cas's head in his hands and kissed his forehead. "The floor quilts are great. Y'know what would be even better? A mattress, Cas."
"Noted."
Several hours later, Dean discovered that the ceiling in Cas's room was boringly plain white, not a runic inscription or rhyme in sight. He didn't mind.
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Of Kings and Beasts - Three
Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve
Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrusted to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.
Warnings: Dark Themes, Smut, NonCon, Language, Kinda Slow Burn, Cruel!Bucky, Injuries, Violence, TRIGGER WARNING FOR NON CONSENSUAL SEX, fluff??? Maybe?? Can you call it that????
Word Count: 3.6K
A/n: I'm making soup right now!!!! It won’t be done until maybe eleven thirty (It’s ten thirty rn) and I work at 4 tomorrow morning so RIP me. Um... I hope to post the next part of In a Heartbeat soon (Tonight or tomorrow) but we’ll see. I hope you guys are all having a lovely evening and I love you all very much!!
Spoiler(ish) A/n 2: So this chapter is very dark BUT the next chapter will not be as dark so you have that to look forward to.
THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND VERY DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!
PART ONE
PART TWO
~*~
“No breakfast again this morning, Your Majesty?” You shake your head at your guard, turning your back to her and motioning for her to tie up your corset.
She starts tying, apologizing every now and again when you inhale sharply at the tightness.
“Natalia, I would appreciate it if my name were not one you said to the king. With every mention of me, he becomes more agitated. He is entitled to do whatever it is that he pleases to me, for I belong to him now. I fear you getting involved in any way will only make matters worse for me.”
She wonders what James might've done when he last saw you to have you saying this, but she knows better than to ask.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I ask you forgive me for speaking so plainly without permission.”
It’s been weeks since the king left, and the Kingdom has started growing cold with the coming winter.
“Today, if you will allow it, I would like to take you to the stables. You have been here for well over a month and have yet to meet your horse.” You cock your head to the side. You didn’t even know you had a horse here.
“I have a horse?” She nods, draping a cloak over your shoulders. “You have whatever you want here. This is your home. Your kingdom. Anything you wish for will be brought to you. All you need do is ask.”
“I suppose you’re correct. Forgive me for being so blunt, but I have not felt very welcomed in my new home.” She nods, opening the door for you and walking you down the hall.
“I know it has been said many times, but the King is simply under a fair amount of stress. He knows not how his words affect you. You mustn’t think you are the cause of his anger. He is wrong to take it out on you. I know it isn’t my place, but before Steven was taken, the two kings were greatly looking forward to meeting you and marrying you. However, without his husband, I fear James has become a shell of a man.”
You hum, her words making sense when you think back to the way the King treated you and some of the things he said.
“It’s comical. The King fears I am trying to replace his husband when I have not even spoken his name. I have not said a word about King Steven and yet His Majesty treats me as if I am the one who lost him in the first place.” You stop in your tracks, horror filling you at what you’ve said.
“I am too bold, for I know not what I am saying. Please forgive me, Natalia. I did not mean anything by it.” She smiles gently at you.
“You do not need to be afraid of speaking freely in front of me. I will not breathe a word of it to the King. What is said in my presence stays with me and only me.” You smile gratefully at her but say nothing more, not knowing how much you can trust the woman beside you.
~*~
The days go by in blurs of grey. You rarely leave your chambers unless coaxed by Nat or Wanda, and even then it is only for brief moments.
Your appetite has shrunk and you hardly sleep more than a few hours a night, something both women are starting to become worried about.
Natalia was asked to take care of you, and she feels horrid for doing such a terrible job. But she isn’t sure what else she can do.
“We should hear from the King soon. It’s been nearly two months since his departure,” Wanda says from beside the bathtub. You’re laying in the warm water, eyes closed in a pathetic attempt at ignoring the world around yourself.
Something about what she says clicks in your mind and you peel your eyes open.
“How long did you say?” You ask, voice scratchy from lack of use.
“It’s been nearly two months since he left.” She repeats, smiling gently at you. You nod, teeth grinding together as butterflies fill your belly.
“Wanda, could you fetch the doctor? I am feeling unwell.” She nods, jumping up from her spot and hurrying to the door. While she’s gone you climb out of the bathtub and quickly dry off, heart in your throat as you get dressed.
You’re pulling on a plain beige dress when Wanda re-enters the room, a doctor following close behind.
“Your Majesty.” He bows then stands back up quickly, pushing his spectacles up higher on his nose.
“Please excuse us, Wanda.” She nods, disappointment in her eyes, but leaves nonetheless.
You wait until you’re sure she’s away from the door before speaking.
“I have not bled since arriving here,” you say bluntly, wanting to know now if what you think is actually true.
He raises his eyebrows and nods, licking his lips.
“When was your last bleed before arriving?” You take a deep breath, trying hard to remember. “Probably about a week... maybe two before I arrived.” He nods, pulling a small notepad out of his jacket and jotting something down.
“The days add up. I would not be surprised if you were with child. I’d like to do a few inspections, just to be sure, but I am fairly confident that you are.” He pulls the stethoscope from around his neck and puts the earpieces in his ears.
He presses the flat part against your chest, listening intently before nodding and jotting a few more things down.
When he crouches down and presses the flat part to your lower belly you feel like you may throw up.
It’s dead silent in the room, you holding your breath, and him listening carefully.
A smile breaks out across his face and he stands up.
“Congratulations, Your Majesty. I can hear two healthy heartbeats.”
You’re going to faint.
He must see you start to sway because he grabs your arms and hurries you to your bed, laying you down.
“I’ll send for Lady Wanda. Have her bring some water.” You nod, clenching your jaw as you try to fight both tears and dizziness.
You’re pregnant.
You’re going to have a baby.
You dread having to tell the King.
~*~
Two weeks after finding out the news and you’ve told no one. The Doctor, (Doctor Banner as you found out later) is the only other person who knows and you’ve sworn him to secrecy.
Two weeks after finding out you’re carrying the future of Acadia and that is news you’ve kept to yourself. Who can you tell? Your husband still hasn’t sent word, and there’s been no sign of him.
You sit in your chambers, picking at a piece of bread more than eating it.
“Majesty, you’ve lost weight. You need to eat, please,” Wanda begs. You look over at her then back down to your almost untouched plate of food.
After a moment of staring at the food you sigh, one hand coming to your stomach.
“Wanda, where do your loyalties lie?” She furrows her brows in confusion at your question.
“I don’t think I understand what you mean, your Majesty.” You sigh and look at her. “Could you keep a secret from the King if I requested you to do as such?” She nods without hesitation. “You are my queen and I am your lady. You are my top priority, before the kings.” You nod, absentmindedly drawing patterns on your stomach.
“I’m with child,” you tell her, eyes focused on the pristine walls.
She takes a sharp breath in, hurrying to your side and looking into your eyes.
“Is this confirmed?” You nod, placing a hand on your tiny bump.
“I have not told his majesty yet, because I have no way of contacting him. I can only hope that after he is made aware of my pregnancy... I hope he is kinder.” She nods, smiling gently at you.
“I’m sure he will be. He and King Steven spoke so fondly of having children. Of having you. When they come back I am positive King James will make up for all he has done to you. Now, you must eat. I will not leave this spot until you eat half of what is here. If not for your sake then for that of your child.” You purse your lips then nod, picking up a scrap of bread and bringing it to your lips.
She smiles encouragingly, watching with warmth in her eyes as you eat the food on your plate.
~*~
You’re falling into light sleep when there’s a sudden commotion outside of your chambers.
“He’s returned?” A muffled voice asks.
James.
You bolt upright, stumbling out of your bed and rushing over to your window. Sure enough, the group of riders is back. But one is missing from the King’s horse.
“He was unsuccessful. We could not find Steve. He... he is not taking it well.” That’s Samuel's voice.
You open your door, smiling at Nat and Sam.
“He is back?” You ask. Sam nods then scratches the nape of his neck.
“He is... not in good spirits right now, Your Majesty. It would be unwise to see him until he has calmed down.”
You take a deep breath, Wanda’s words ringing in your head. He needs to know this. If only to spare yourself some pain.
“I need to speak to him and I need to do so now. This has waited long enough. I do not care if he is not in good spirits. I have waited far too long to tell him.” The two nod and Sam points you in the direction of where the King is.
Your heart is racing in your ears and you hold your stomach, beyond nervous for the King’s reaction.
When you get to the throne room you find the door open, the King having his back to you.
“Your Majesty?” You call, only becoming more nervous when you see the way his shoulders tighten at the sound of your voice.
“I asked to be left alone,” he growls, his voice low and full of anger. You take a deep breath and nod, stepping into the throne room.
“I realize that, Your Majesty, and I apologize for intruding, but I mist speak with you.” He chuckles, turning around slowly to look at you.
He’s dirty and there’s dried blood on the side of his face. His eyes are red and blood-shot and you realize that he must’ve been crying.
“What could you possibly have to say that would lead you to believe it is important enough for me to hear?” Your mouth drops open in shock and he scoffs.
“You waste my time, you stupid girl. I want nothing of you, do you not understand that?!”
“Believe me, Your Majesty, I understand that plenty. You think I do not know of your resentment but I do. I am not here by my own free will, might I remind you. I am not the one who chose to come here. If my memory serves me correctly, it was you and King Steven who chose me.”
You hardly register what happens next. One moment you’re standing up facing the king, the next you’re on the ground, cheek stinging and the taste of blood in your mouth while the sound of a slap rings in your ears.
“You will not speak to your King in that manner! It is a privilege to be here, and it is time you realized that. You were chosen, yes. Chosen to bear the children of the great Kings of the West. However, that does not make you irreplaceable! You can easily be beheaded and another woman brought in your place.” He eyes you for a moment, his anger and sorrow consuming him.
“It seems my words are not enough to remind you what you are meant for. Perhaps my cock will do a better job?” You shake your head, scrambling back, but it’s too late. He’s already on top of you, shoving your legs apart and pushing your skirts up past your hips.
“No! Your Majesty, please! I-I’m sorry! Please, don’t!” He smacks you again, successfully silencing your pleads for him to stop. Tears leak from your eyes and you feel whatever fight you had left in you be drained.
Your mind goes blank and it’s as if all your senses have been turned off.
You can’t feel anything. Not his hands on your hips, nor his manhood tearing you apart. You can’t hear his angry grunts or the choked sobs he’s trying so desperately to contain.
You simply lie beneath him, tears trailing down your cheeks and eyes focused on a stain on the wall across from where you are.
Hot tears splatter against your face, adding to your own, and somewhere through your hazy mind you realize he’s crying. Why he could possibly be crying when he’s the one causing pain is beyond you, but you don’t care anymore. Not about him, nor his husband, nor his kingdom. The heir you carry... you’re hardly sure if you care about it anymore either.
When he’s finished he doesn’t look at you. He can’t. He can’t face what he’s done. Instead, he fixes your skirts, gets up, and leaves you on the floor.
You have no strength left inside of you. Your body is stuck on the ground, tears still flowing down your cheeks and dripping into a puddle on the floor.
Alone on the floor you lie, not sure for how long. Minutes, hours, days. You have no idea. You hardly hear the feet running to you, nor do you process the hands pulling you into a seated position, fingers on your neck checking for a pulse.
A woman’s voice shouting for the doctor while strong arms pick you up.
You’re carried through the halls, each one looking so much like the last, and then you’re on your bed again.
There are people speaking, voices all muffled together that you can’t hear and you wish would go away.
And then you’re jolted back to reality by a spray of cold water.
You gasp, arms coming around your body and hugging yourself as shivers wrack your frame.
“There you are, Your Majesty,” Doctor Banner says, his eyes moving from your face down to your stomach.
“Everyone out. I need to inspect the Queen in privacy.” You don’t look to see who else is in the room. You don’t care.
You keep your gaze locked forward, trembling as the cold water seeps into your bones.
“It was the only method I could think of to pull you from your shock, Your Majesty. I do hope you’ll forgive me.” You don’t reply and the Doctor sighs.
“Lady Wanda, run a hot bath for her. And have someone fetch some of the tea I asked for.” You’re assuming Wanda does as asked because you can hear the water filling up the tub.
“Can you tell me what happened?” Doctor Banner asks. You say nothing.
“Are you hurt?” You shrug.
“Can I examine you?” You nod. He lays you down and presses the stethoscope to your stomach, nodding once then sitting between your legs. He flips your skirts up and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“I will need to have a word with his Majesty. He cannot be so rough while you are with child.” You shake your head, pushing yourself onto your elbows.
The doctor raises his eyebrows in confusion.
“You don’t want me to tell him?” You nod. He sighs but agrees.
“You must rest though, Your Majesty. I can only imagine how much pain you are in.” When you still say nothing he sighs and rises to his feet.
“From what I gathered, all is well with the child. It will take a few days for you to heal properly, and I recommend you eat more and add more meats and cheeses to your diet. You need to gain weight and sleep more. Both you and your child require that. I will inform the chefs of your change in meal schedule. I expect you to follow it this time.” You simply nod and the doctor leaves without another word.
Wanda is at your side before you can fall back into the abyss of numbness, helping you to the bathtub and pulling your soiled dress from your body.
“I’ll have it disposed of. You spend as much time as you’d like in the tub. I sent Nat and Sam to fetch tea and soup for you. No one has seen the King since...” She trails off, a frown on her lips at the way you make no sign of having even heard her.
A knock on the door pulls her from her worries momentarily and she hurries to open it.
Nat comes in, a tray in her hand, and Sam is standing guard at the door, under strict order from the redhead not to let the King anywhere near your chambers.
“How is she?” Nat asks. Wanda shakes her head, sighing heavily. “She hasn’t spoken a word. Not even to Doctor Banner. I fear he may have done damage that cannot be healed.” Nat nods, her eyes on you.
“Your Majesty? I’ve brought you some soup and tea. Doctor Banner has said that you need to eat more.” She sits on the padded vanity stool after tugging it to the bathtub and sets the tray down on the floor beside her.
She picks up the soup and offers you the bowl, at which you simply stare. She sighs and raises a spoonful of it to her mouth, blowing on it gently before offering it to you. You open your mouth and allow her to spoon-feed you the warm soup.
It takes both women to get you out of the tub and into bed, but once you’re in bed you never want to move.
Wanda blows out the few candles you had in your chambers and her and Nat quietly leave.
~*~
“She’s been up for several hours. She lit a fire a few hours ago and has been sitting in front of it ever since,” Nat whispers, looking at the brunette with sad eyes.
“The King has destroyed her spirit,” Wanda whispers back. You sit perfectly poised in front of the fire, your back facing the two women.
“Has she spoken yet?” Wanda asks, to which Nat replies with a sad shake of her head.
Your fingers poke at your stomach, hatred in your heart for the life growing within you.
A plate of fruit and nuts sits in front of you, one you’ve been nibbling at since the early hours of the morning.
You’re not meaning to be silent, you simply have nothing left to say to anyone, no fight in you and nothing left to give. You’re tired and absolutely done with this life that you’re living.
“Nat?” The two watch you carefully for any reaction to the King’s voice.
“You should be beaten for all that you’ve done to her,” Nat says matter-of-factly. The King sighs and you hear his footsteps slow as he approaches your door.
“I came to talk to her. To apologize and explain.” The redhead snorts. “It’s a little bit late for that, Your Majesty. She hasn’t spoken a word since we found her yesterday. I doubt she wants anything to do with you.” You couldn’t care less at this point.
“Please?” The redhead sighs but steps aside, allowing her King access to his wife.
“(Y/n)?” You don’t move, eyes focused on the flames in front of you. He sits himself down beside you, eyes on the side of your face.
You’ve lost weight. Your face is slimmer, less lively than last he saw it. The bags under your eyes have only grown and you look... exhausted.
“May I have a moment alone with her? Please?” The two women exchange glances before slowly nodding.
“We will be just beyond the door if you need anything from us, Your Majesty.” He knows they’re not talking to him. As soon as the door is closed he sighs, shoulders slumping forward.
“I will never be able to apologize for all that I have done to you. You... you have endured far more than you should have and I have treated you unfairly. I have... I have brutalized you and broken you down. I take full responsibility for my actions.”
He sighs heavily before continuing, his voice quiet and broken.
“I miss my husband. And although that is no excuse, it is my explanation. I have never been one to love easily, and loving him... it was hard to accept for the longest time. And then I opened myself up to a love I have never experienced before, only to have him ripped from my grasp.
“We chose you specifically. Your beauty and wit... we knew you would make a wonderful queen. He would talk about you at night, we would discuss what having you would be like. And now every time I look at you I see him and it pains me. Because you are a dream that he and I were meant to share. It is wrong for me to take that out on you and I will never ever be deserving of your forgiveness.”
When you still say nothing he sighs.
“I... I would like for us to be civil, at the very least. And I know you have tried and I have not been open to this before, but I would like to start over if you’ll allow it.”
Even if you didn’t want to be civil with him, his word trumps yours.
“Join me for dinner tonight? I will have the cooks prepare whatever you would like to eat.”
You don’t want to eat a single damn thing. But do you really have a choice?
#king!bucky#king!steve rogers x reader#king!bucky x Princess!reader X king!steve#king!Steve X reader#stucky/reader#Bucky Barnes x reader dark au#bucky x reader dark au#steve x reader dark fic#bucky x reader dark fic#Steve rogers x reader dark fic#Steve Rogers x reader dark au#Steve Rogers x reader#Steve Rogers x reader x bucky#bucky x reader x steve#Steve X reader x bucky#stucky x reader#Bucky Barnes x reader#Dark Fic#TW: Dark fic#tw: rape#tw rape#TW:Rape#trigger warning: rape#trigger warning#trigger warnings#triggering content
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For the prompts thing...
You’re my ex but I think I still have feelings for you.
Juke, preferably.
not entirely sure what this is. it went on a very weird journey. don't hate it. i know you probably wanted something either angstier or funnier but this is very...middle ground? idk man it's 2:40am. enjoy! thank you for sending one!😊💜
24. you’re my ex but i think i still have feelings for you
50 cliche tropes and prompts!
Julie remembers every little detail about the day they broke up.
She remembers the way her coffee had tasted in the morning, how she’d struggled to make her hair look semi-presentable for school, how the radio had played a new Taylor Swift song, how they’d all laughed at lunch like everything was normal. She remembers knowing it was coming but not being able to do anything to stop it.
Her and Luke broke up a week before High School graduation at 4:37pm on a Thursday that felt just like any other.
It was because she’d gotten into her top college choices, Luke said. It was because he and the boys were going to tour that summer, she said. It was because they were 17 and everyone said a high school romance would never last that kind of distance or difference in lifestyles.
The last time she saw him had been at Carrie’s graduation party. A stolen moment in a locked bedroom that had left them both a little breathless and both a little teary eyed and promise to never settle for less than their worth. Flynn doesn’t comment on her rumpled clothes and she sees the way the boys don’t ask about the wet patch on his shirt over his heart where they all know reaches her eye line.
They steal one last look at each other as the night ends and they get into different cars to go home. One last smile, one last wave, two last words whispered across a drive, “Bye Jules.”
Then Julie locks away the part of her heart that belongs to Luke Patterson and moves on.
//
College is different then she expected it to be. Less like the films she’d seen growing up and more like, well, reality she supposes. Her roommate is friendly and they get along fine. There’s no stolen food or ruined clothes or spontaneous parties in their room. It’s nice, it’s normal, it’s fine.
There’s parties on campus and off that never get as wild as she expects them to. And Julie starts to wonder if maybe she’s doing college wrong. If she’s maybe not experiencing all the wild and terrifying things that other people are. There’s no one night stands or running from police or walking up with traffic cones in her room.
She tries to explain it to Flynn. How she’s worried she’s doing college wrong. That she and Luke broke up because they were supposed to experience life and he didn’t want to hold her back and how he had never asked her if she even wanted to go on tour with them.
There’s silence on both ends of the phone after she confesses that, before Flynn slowly asks if she had wanted to go with the boys.
And Julie doesn’t know. She doesn’t have an answer, and even if she did, what did it matter now?
//
Her first boyfriend after Luke is a guy named Henry.
He’s soft spoken and doing some sort of business degree and knows how to cook fancy foods and goes to bed at 11pm on a weekday and has no real opinions on who is a better guitarist –– Eric Calpton or Jimi Hendrixs –– and he’s basically the complete opposite to Luke.
And Julie likes him. She likes that he’s kind and polite and that he listens to what she has to say and that he’s predictable.
Which is also what she dislikes.
There’s no give or take or pushing to be better. She can always guess exactly what Henry is going to say or where he’ll want to eat or what he’ll want to do on the weekend. And it’s not because she knows him oh so well. It’s just that he’s predictable. He’s mundane.
And Julie hates that because of Luke she knows not to settle for ordinary.
//
She graduates college and moves in with Flynn and for the first time in her life, Julie realises she doesn’t know what to do next. Doesn’t have a plan. It’s terrifying the same way it’s exhilarating.
Creating music has always been the goal, now she just has to figure out how she’s going to do it. What kind of artist she wants to be. And she remembers –– or really it’s not remembering, because it’s always there in the back of her mind –– what Luke had once said. How it’s not about the money, it’s about making a connection with someone. With everyone.
And Julie knows he’s doing that.
Knows that the band put out an ep, that they have a small following that grows a little more every day. Knows that Luke hasn’t sacrificed his goals for money.
She’s happy for him. For them. She just tries not to think about it too much.
//
Julie sees him for the first time in six years at a supermarket of all places.
In the cereal aisle.
He’s still wearing his stupid band tee’s that he’s cut the arms off, and still wearing beanies just to contradict himself, and still squinting at labels because he refuses to get his eyes tested.
Julie knows, as she stands with her basket at one end, that she can turn around right now. That he’ll never have known she was there. That she can carry on with her life without him in it.
“Need me to read that for you?” she finds herself asking as she stops next to his side, the distance between them feeling like miles rather than the handful of inches it really is.
For a moment, Luke doesn’t say anything. Just looks at her, eyes tracing over her face, her body, probably taking in all the ways she’s changed. Like what she’s doing to him. Taking in the way his shoulders are broader, biceps more defined, how there’s a stubble dusting his cheeks and his hair looks a little longer. How he seems to hold himself differently, more confidently.
And then one of his hands rubs at the back of his neck, and a sheepish smile pulls at his lips as he holds the box out to her, “Yeah, please.” He finally says, and it’s the first time she’s heard him speak in six years and his voice is a little deeper, a little raspier like he’s been shouting. But it’s still him. She’d recognise his voice anywhere.
Swallowing, Julie accepts the box and turns it around, eyes scanning the tiny letters quickly and, before she can start reading, Luke is saying something.
Two little words.
“Hi Jules.”
Julie feels something inside her click. Something unlock as a smile breaks out across her face.
“Hi Luke.”
#ask#anon#julie and the phantoms#jatp fics#short is just not in me anymore and i hate that#but i think i like this? unsure. might just be tired#*prompts
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Gone Forever
Luke Patterson x Reader
Warnings: Car accident, death
Word Count: 1.9k
Summary: (Y/N) is friends with Julie and the boys - she is very friendly with Luke in particular. Not long after the Orpheum performance, (Y/N) dies in a car accident. Luke tries to find her as a ghost.
*****
(Y/N) beamed up at the stage as Julie and the boys performed, she was beyond proud of what Julie has accomplished with the boys. Julie was no longer the timid girl who shied away from music. She was now performing on stage at the Orpheum. (Y/N) was beyond proud of her. However, no matter how proud (Y/N) was of Julie, there was still an aching feeling in her heart. She knew that the boys were going to cross over, she knew that this was the last time she was going to see them.
The song drew to a close and (Y/N) clapped along with everyone else. A single tear fell down her cheek as she looked at Luke, Alex and Reggie. She made eye contact with Luke and he gave her a small reassuring smile. It’s okay, he mouthed. (Y/N) smiled at him once more before smiling at Alex and Reggie who both gave her a smile in return. The four of them took a bow before the three boys disappeared, leaving Julie along on the stage.
After the show, (Y/N) went straight home. Julie offered for her to stay the night, but (Y/N) just wanted to be alone. Julie understood this, knowing how much the boys crossing over had affected her. While Julie went home to find the boys dying (again) on the studio floor, (Y/N) went back to her house and cried on her bed. (Y/N) wished that she had never fallen for the shaggy haired ghost, but it had happened. She knew that a relationship between the two would never be possible for them but at least she could’ve still spoken to him - but now he was gone forever and there was nothing (Y/N) could do.
There was a faint knock on her door and (Y/N) tried to compose herself quickly, knowing that it was most likely her parents, “Hang on, I’ll be a minute.” (Y/N) hastily wiped the tears from her face while getting up from the bed. The door opened and (Y/N)’s heart dropped. She stopped wiping the tears away and stood there stunned.
“Luke?”
Luke smiled at the girl, “Yeah, it’s me.” (Y/N) noticed that he looked different, he looked more alive.
“But, how- how are you here? You crossed over.” (Y/N) said, inching forward towards him.
“Playing the Orpheum wasn’t our unfinished business.” Luke stated, stepping closer to (Y/N).
“What about Caleb? What about his house band? Are Alex and Reggie okay? Does Julie know? Does-” Luke cut (Y/N) off by holding her upper arms gently, “How- how are you doing that?”
Luke smiled again, “Something happened with Julie at the studio, we don’t know what it was but I don’t think we need to worry about Caleb anymore. And as for this-” Luke’s moved his hands from (Y/N)’s upper arms to cup her face, (Y/N)’s moved hers to hold gently onto his wrists, not believing this was real, “I still think we’re dead but we can now touch people. So now, I can finally do this.”
(Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean-”
Luke planted his lips on hers, cutting off her speech. (Y/N) kissed him back, gripping onto his wrists a little tighter in surprise. Luke pulled away and rested his forehead on hers. (Y/N) opened her eyes and looked at Luke. A smile stretched across her face.
“How long have you waited to do that?” (Y/N) mumbled.
“A long time.” Luke answered before leaning in and kissing her again.
***
It was a few weeks after the Orpheum performance and everything was going amazingly. The boys had figured out that they could choose when they wanted to be seen and could make themselves tangible at will. This of course made Reggie very happy as he could interact with Ray without it being a one sided conversation. But even Reggie’s happiness didn’t meet the happiness Luke and (Y/N) felt. The two of them were not rushing into things, the last time they had kissed was that night after the Orpheum performance, but the two of them were now extremely touchy with each other. They were always connected in some way, whether that be holding hands, Luke’s arm slung around her shoulder or their feet touching as they sat opposite ends of the couch.
The four band members were sitting on Julie’s couch flipping through all the TV channels trying to find something to watch. (Y/N) wasn’t with them, she had decided to go shopping with her mother that day - of course Luke sulked at the thought of spending time away from (Y/N) since the two had been connected at the hip these last few weeks. (Y/N) had reassured the boy that she would come around later that day.
They flicked through the channels until the word ‘Breaking News’ flashed up on the screen. Julie stopped flicking through the channels as the four band members listened.
“At 4:02 this afternoon, a car was hit in a drunk driving accident. The drunk driver sustained few injuries however the car they hit wasn’t so lucky,” The news reporter said, “The two people in the car, believed to be a mother and daughter, suffered major injuries. The mother was quickly rushed to hospital to treat her, the daughter however, wasn’t as lucky. Seventeen year old, (Y/N) (L/N) was pronounced dead at the scene.”
Tears fell down Julie’s cheeks as she jumped up from the couch, immediately phoning her dad. Luke, Alex and Reggie sat there in shock, their eyes glazed over with tears. It wasn’t until a few minutes later once everything had sunk in, that Luke got up from the couch and began pacing around.
“No, no, no, she can’t be gone. She promised she'd be here and she never breaks her promises,” Luke ran his hands through his hair as tears slid down his cheeks, “Maybe- maybe she’s come back as a ghost, I mean we did right? Maybe she has too.”
Alex looked at his friend, even though Alex himself was distraught over the news, he knew that Luke was hurting much more than he was, “But Luke, we had unfinished business, that’s the reason we came back. And we came back twenty-five years after we died, if (Y/N) does come back as a ghost, it may take her that long.”
Luke took one look at his blonde friend before leaving the house, not before saying one final comment, “I’m going to find her.”
For days after her death, Luke had searched everywhere for (Y/N). He had checked the site of the crash, he had checked her house, he had checked the small cafe she had loved so much. He looked everywhere he could think of and she wasn’t anywhere to be found. Luke didn’t want to believe that (Y/N) was gone forever, but he was beginning to think it.
He collapsed on the side of the street. No one would be able to see him, he made sure of that. All he could think about was (Y/N). If she wasn't a ghost, he would never see her again. He would never get to hug her again. He would never get to kiss her again like the night of the Orpheum performance. Luke just wanted (Y/N) back.
Luke wished that he hadn’t convinced (Y/N) to come around Julie’s later that day, maybe then she and her mother wouldn’t have been caught in that crash. They would have taken another route home and (Y/N) would still be alive and her mother wouldn’t be in the hospital. Luke’s eyes widened, there was one place he hadn’t checked yet.
***
(Y/N) stared down at her mothers body laying on the bed. Her chest going up and down in shallow breaths. Her mother was alive and (Y/N) was happy about that. Her mother was okay and that’s all that mattered. Even though she was hooked up to multiple different machines, (Y/N) knew she would pull through - her mother was a strong person. She would never let something like a drunk driver take her life. (Y/N) had been in the hospital her mother was in the past few days, she hadn’t left. (Y/N) had realised that she was a ghost quite quickly after someone had walked directly through her. (Y/N) even watched as her body was placed into a body bag.
However, since she had died, (Y/N) hadn’t gone to see Julie, Luke, Alex or Reggie. She would have no idea if Julie would even be able to see her. (Y/N) wouldn’t even know what she would say to Luke. (Y/N) had gotten entertainment from people from her highschool posting tributes to her. When there was no one at the computer in reception, (Y/N) went onto instagram and saw everything people were posting about her. She always laughed when someone she hated posted a tribute saying they were the best of friends, it took everything for the dead girl not to comment on the post, but (Y/N) thought that a comment from a dead girl would probably give them a heart attack so she refrained herself from doing so.
Feeling another presence in the room, (Y/N) turned around expecting it to be another doctor but when she saw who it was she stood up. Luke was standing there, he looked clearly disheveled and his eyes were red and puffy like he had been crying. (Y/N) felt her break, she suddenly regretted not going to see him once she became a ghost.
“(Y/N)...” Luke had rushed forward and pulled the girl into his arms. The girl he had been looking for for days was in his arms.
“Luke,” (Y/N) said, pulling away from the hug and looking up at him, “I am so sorry I didn’t come to see you. I was scared and I didn’t-”
“I don’t care. You’re here, that’s all I care about.” Luke’s hands held (Y/N)’s waist gently.
“So how are the others? How’s Julie doing?” (Y/N) thought of her friend and how she was coping with her death.
“She’s been a bit distant, she hasn’t spoken to us much about it. Alex and Reggie tried to talk to her but she just brushed them off.” Luke explained.
“Do you think she will be able to see me?” (Y/N) questioned.
“There’s only one way to find out.” Luke said, taking a step back from the girl and holding his hand out.
(Y/N) looked at his hand before looking back over to her mother in the hospital bed, Luke noticed this and took her hand in his, “She’s gonna be okay, alright. The doctors and nurses are going to take good care of her. She’ll be fine.”
(Y/N)’s glance lingered on her mother a few moments longer before it finally shifted back to Luke. (Y/N) gave him a small smile, “Alright, let’s go.”
“One thing first.” Luke said before pecking (Y/N) on the lips. (Y/N) smiled before the two of them poofed away.
#julie and the phantoms#luke patterson#luke patterson x reader#luke x reader#jatp#julie and the phantoms imagine#luke jatp#julie and the phantoms x reader
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