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schrijverr · 7 months

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I Found Myself a Cheerleader 25

Chapter 25 out of 28

Bumped to the lowest step on the social ladder after his fight with Billy, Steve gets roped in with the cheer team. What starts as a favor to help them out when one member breaks her leg in turn for protection from the brunt of the bullying, sets the universe on a different path.

In this chapter, they go to face Vecna, saying their goodbyes, hoping it won’t be their last. As Steve goes further into the Upside Down, he can’t shake the feeling that Eddie is about to do something stupid, that he will never get to tell him how much he means to him.

On AO3.

Ships: steddie & buckingham

Warnings: general season 4 shenanigans, fighting, injury

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Chapter 25: The Fight

At the Creel house, Steve feels the urge to drive past, to not stop, but keep going until they’re out of Hawkins and on the road to someplace else. Out of reach of Vecna. It’s like it’s his graduation all over again and he just wants to leave, but something keeps him here. Something always seems to keep him here.

This time, it’s that he knows that El could spy on the Russians and so can Vecna. If running to Russia won’t put them out of the danger zone, nothing will. So, he stops the mobile home. Seems like they’re actually going to have to do this shit.

Erica, Lucas, Max and Chrissy all get up, this is their stop. Steve feels his stomach churn as he watches them get out. Quickly he stops Lucas and says: “Keep them safe for me, Sinclair?”

“Course,” Lucas smiles, but it’s tight and doesn’t reach his eyes. Steve knows what it is like to carry the weight of the safety of your friends on your shoulders and he hates putting it on Lucas at an age younger than he was when he first had to. But he also can’t loose any of them. He can’t.

“Also keep yourself safe, yeah,” he adds. “Don’t do anything stupidly heroic.”

“Like make yourself bait for demodogs,” Lucas shoots back pointedly, not letting Steve forget that he has also done stupidly heroic things.

“That was different,” Steve tells him, though he knows it isn’t. The only difference is that it was him that time instead of them.

“Sure it was,” Lucas says unconvinced, before leave the mobile home and starting the track to the Creel house.

Robin has been crushing Chrissy in a hug, repeating over and over that she should keep herself safe and that she’d better survive all this.

Though it looks like it pains her, Chrissy is trying to dislodge her as she promises she’ll try and that it’s going to be okay. Steve hates that they can’t kiss goodbye, can’t cling more openly. But instead of being angry, he makes it a group hug and also makes Chrissy promise to be safe.

“Guys, guys,” she says. “You’re the two who are going back there again, don’t you think I should be promised your return.”

“I’ll get this one back to you,” Steve grins crookedly as he ruffles Robin’s hair through her little barret, earning a squawk from the girl.

Chrissy smiles at them, before leveling Steve with a look and pointedly says: “I also meant you with that, you know. You’d better come back too.”

She has always been able to see through him more than anyone else. Steve feels a lump in his throat and can only give a nod in reply. Robin, luckily breaks the tension by throwing an arm around Steve and smirking: “I’ll get this one back to you.”

They all laugh and with that little high, the three finally manage to say goodbye and part ways. All of them hoping they will get to see each other again.

The drive back to the trailer is done in complete silence. Everyone can feel the oppressive weight of what they’re about to try pressing down on their shoulders. It’s like Dustin said, it feels like more this time around. More important. More at stake. More that can go wrong.

At the trailer the four older teens prepare to go back into the Upside Down. The rope is still there and looking up, Steve can see his nail bat still laying there. It’s comforting to know he’ll have a familiar weapon in hands when going into battle.

Dustin meanwhile sits on the couch, looking mopey. He still doesn’t like that he isn’t allowed to come in and help Eddie. Steve still doesn’t trust him to not do something stupid if anything doesn’t work out and he’s mentally trying to come up with a way to keep him here.

Nancy wants to run through it one more time and Steve lets her. His task is to follow after Nancy and Robin and hit Vecna until he’s never getting up again. Simple.

Before they go, Steve kneels down on one knee in front of Dustin and softly says: “Hey, Henderson, look at me?”

Pouting, Dustin does as told. “What?” he asks.

“I know you’re upset at not getting to come,” Steve tells him, as he looks into Dustin’s eyes, trying to imprint his little curls and the baby fat he still carries in his cheeks.

“No shit,” Dustin rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve shoots back goodnaturedly. “All I wanted to say is thank you for accepting it and staying. Please, don’t try anything. I mean it. We can handle this and if anything happens we’ll improvise. You’re still important to the plan. Just keep your post. If anyone comes in, you gotta make sure this portal is still good for us to leave through, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dustin replies, looking more content with his fate than before. “I’ll keep an eye out. You guys be safe okay. You die, I die, remember. If you do anything stupid, I’ll sense it and break your rules.”

“Course you will,” Steve smirks, before ruffling Dustin’s hair for what might be the last time, before he squares his shoulders and starts to climb the rope.

With the wounds cleaned and bandaged properly and not in a panicked state after watching his friend just almost die, the climb is a lot easier. He volunteers to go first, because his bat is a hazard and out of all of them, he’s the least likely to hurt himself.

He does a little flip and lands safely on his feet, giving a little smile to indicate he’s good to those now above him. Then he hurries to get the bat out of the way, leaning it against the wall, before going to grab the mattress for the others to land on.

It occurs to him as he’s tugging the mattress of the bed that this is the first time he’s been in Eddie’s actual room. Despite knowing that he should hurry and feeling a little bit like a creep, he can’t help but take a second to take in the room.

The room is a mess and covered in posters of bands that Steve only recognizes half of and then only vaguely because Eddie mentioned them. There are also clothes strewn about, a guitar on the wall and those figurine thingies littered everywhere. It looked cozy and most of all, very Eddie. Steve feels a pang go through him. The room looks very comfortable and Steve wants to stay there forever, but he can’t. He has to go face Vecna and the other horrors that lurk here.

So, he roughly tugs the mattress along with him and tries to put it out of his mind as he hurries back so the others can get through.

One by one the other three make it through. He politely helps Nancy up, then rolls his eyes as he scrapes lovely clumsy Robin of the mattress, before nearly choking a little as he sees Eddie splayed out over the mattress, not having gotten the chance to appreciate it last time. Before he can do anything too stupid he quickly hauls Eddie up with a short: “You good, man?”

“Good as can be,” Eddie grins back, his dimples on display, making Steve feel more settled in the terrible environment as well as getting his pulse up.

From above Dustin yells: “Good luck, don’t die.”

Eddie smiles back up at him and sends a thumbs up, but Steve suddenly gets an idea. He grabs the spear the Sinclairs made for Eddie, then the rope before jumping to cut it at the middle, leaving it to come falling back down.

Around him everyone starts yelling, exclaiming things like “What the hell, Steve!” “That was our way out, what are you doing?” “Uhm, Stevie, are you okay, are you loosing your mind?” “Dingus, what? Are you getting Vecna’d?”

In hindsight, Steve can admit it was totally heat of the moment, but he doesn’t regret it. Instead he crosses his arms and says: “Eddie here is going to make this trailer a fortress and leave, before we even get back. We have enough rope to make our way back when the danger has passed and Dustin can’t follow us.”

He doesn’t look up, doesn’t want to see the betrayal on Dustin’s face. Instead he looks stubbornly at the other three, daring them to say something.

Eddie and Robin both soften at the mention of Dustin, but Nancy isn’t very happy with it. She frowns: “You’re being ridiculous, Steve. Dustin isn’t just going to follow us here, he knows better, and now you’ve obstructed our exit.”

“I haven’t obscured shit,” Steve replies, deciding not to point out that Nancy obviously has never worked together with Dustin if she thinks that. “Eddie will before us, so nothing should be obstructed. Plus it’s already done now anyway. You’re just slowing us down by arguing.”

Nancy gives him an annoyed look, but luckily decides not to push, instead hoisting one of their bags over her shoulders and walking out of the door. Steve knows what he did is a little bit stupid, but he cares too much about Dustin to mind, so he’s glad he doesn’t have to fight with Nancy about it and defend himself.

Eddie takes the spear back from him, since it’ll be part of his defense, should that turn out to be necessary. The thought makes him a little queasy, since he did just fully cut the rope that will let Eddie escape easily. He can’t bear the thought of never seeing Eddie again.

“Hey, are you okay with the rope?” he suddenly stops and asks. “You can hang it back. Your safety matters more than the what if about Dustin’s word.”

“Yeah, man, don’t worry,” Eddie assures him that lovely grin on his face. “We both know Dustin better than that, did you see his face? Nah, this is just fine. Plus, like you said, I’m making this a fortress to hide in. Won’t even have to run.”

Steve is glad Eddie doesn’t think he’s weird or insane and is willing to go with it, but something tugs at the way he worded it. Still, they have a fight to win, so he can’t really get into it, so he hoists his own bag on his shoulder and also makes his way out of the trailer to set off towards the Creel house, this time in the Upside Down.

Behind Steve, Eddie closes the rear, while Robin and Nancy are in front of them. The two of them are dressed for danger. Danger they’re going to be running towards, but Eddie- Eddie is supposed to run away. He’s going to make himself a target and run. Not stay here.

Fear takes a hold of Steve and the feeling that Eddie might be about to do something incredibly stupid creeps up on him.

Without being fully conscious of making the choice, he has turned back around to face Eddie as he says: “Hey, Eds, listen. If things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you abort, okay? Draw the attention of the bats. Keep them busy for a minute or two. We’ll take care of Vecna. Don’t try to be cute-”

“You think I’m cute?” Eddie asks with a shit eating grin.

Steve feels his own cheeks heat up, knowing he thinks Eddie is adorable, but he’s not telling Eddie that. Though… No! Stubbornly he finishes his sentence: “Or be a hero or something, okay? You’re just-”

“A decoy, I know Stevie,” Eddie looks a little gentler now. “Don’t worry, big boy, you can go save the day. I mean, look at me, I’m not a hero.”

The smile he gives Steve is self deprecating and Steve wants to shake him and scream how brave he is for coming back here, for living through it, for not running away screaming when they told him what has been happening here, for thinking of Steve even when the basketball team was hunting him, for putting himself in danger again.

He wants to tell Eddie he is his hero. That he hates that he has to go through this, but that he is so glad that it’s Eddie, who’ll have his back. That he loves Eddie and to please come back to him.

God, there is so much unspoken between them.

However, he can’t bring himself to say those words. To push. A part of him knows that this moment might haunt him, but the words get stuck in his throat. He doesn’t want it to be like this, desperate and afraid, because they might not have tomorrow. If he ever gets the courage, he wants it to do it right, not like this.

It’s just an excuse, though, because as much as Eddie seems convinced otherwise, Steve is a coward, who cannot bear to hear the no that is sure to come. Nancy telling him she didn’t love him hurt and he wasn’t in love with her, like he is with Eddie. He’d rather have a what if than a no.

So, he says nothing. Instead he looks in Eddie’s eyes, trying to memorize the curls that frame his face, his big Bambi eyes and his strong, lithe figure that Steve adores so much. If he wants to kid himself, he would say Eddie is doing the same, but he’s smarter than that and knows better, so he just manages to tear himself away and turn around.

As he starts to walk away, he tells himself not to look back. Not to turn around to see Eddie standing there all alone to face the Upside Down by himself with nothing but a knife on a stick, a trashcan lid and the thin walls of the trailer to protect him.

However, he breaks his resolution two seconds later when Eddie calls out: “Hey, Steve?”

Eddie hardly ever uses his name, usually choosing to use Stevie, man, dude or if he’s lucky big boy or sweetheart. Or baby boy like in the mobile home. So, Steve’s heart stops in his chest as he hears it and he whirls around before he can think to face him.

It almost seems like Eddie is hyping himself up. He’s biting his lip and looks intense as he stares into Steve’s soul. It’s hot and a little terrifying and Steve is sure that no matter what, he’ll remember that look for the rest of his life.

The silence seems to last for eternity and Steve doesn’t dare to breathe. He has never let himself hope that Eddie would ever feel the same about him, but he can’t help but let an inkling of hope creep into his veins as he watches Eddie nervously gather courage to say something.

Then Eddie seems to deflate and Steve feels like something has passed, which is confirmed when all his hope is helped into the ground by Eddie saying: “Make him pay.”

Unable to form a reaction, Steve gives a tight nod, before turning around and doing what he planned; walking away without looking back, no matter how hard.

Behind them the trailer park slowly disappears into the background and Steve is eternally grateful for Robin’s nervous chattering that keeps him updated on Eddie for a long time. He knows that if he looks back now, he won’t want to leave.

Around them the trailer park morphs into forest. Steve just knows he’ll never sleep the same again in his cabin, which is in the middle of said forest, not to mention broken into before. However, he tries not to think about it too much.

He can sense Robin is nervous too as she starts to ramble about getting lost, but Nancy is confidently walking into a direction and Steve knows they can trust her for this.

Still, that doesn’t make Robin’s anxiety any less real. In an attempt to calm her down, he takes her hand, feeling her squeeze his, before taking a deep breath and calming down slightly.

They keep holding hands until the Creel house rises up in front of them.

Erica is right on the other side in the playground and they make her light sparkle from their side to let her know they made it. In return they hear her say: “Okay, the distraction team have copied. Chrissy is moving into phase two: baiting Vecna.”

“So far, so smooth,” Robin says, but Steve can hear her voice waver at the mention of Chrissy and what she is about to do.

He wants to comfort her, but instead he hears the truth come out: “Yeah, we’re not even at the hard part yet.”

Tensely they all watch the house, Nancy softly praying, or just manifesting, Vecna to take their bait, to grab Chrissy, to be distracted. To be vulnerable.

Steve’s jaw clenches as in the distance metal music can faintly be heard. A part of him thinks he’s imagining it, that he wants to hear it, that he wants to torture himself with the fact that Eddie is out there, also vulnerable. But to assure himself as well that Eddie is still alive.

After what seems like an eternity, the bats fly away and the three rush to the door as fast as they can without stepping on any of the vines.

The house itself is absolutely covered in them and Steve takes the lead. In these situation, his brain is the best to figure out the right route. Stepping in the empty spaces is the same as figuring out how to move on the court without the ball being taken or how to step so he can catch his fellow cheerleader, keeping both an eye on her as well as the others.

Behind him Nancy and Robin follow. The track up the stairs to the attic feels agonizingly slow, each step taking long to figure out, but carefully and steadily they make their way up.

Right when they make it to the top, it all goes to shit.

The house starts to shudder and shake and they all grab onto each other so they won’t fall, won’t step on a vine, won’t be spotted. But it’s all for nothing, around them the vines come alive and Robin is dragged to a wall and pinned there.

“Steve!” she screams, eyes fearful and voice desperate. Steve hasn’t heard her sound anything close to that since the Russians and he knows this sound, along with that one, will haunt his nightmares for years to come.

However, he doesn’t register anything beyond that, already having his bat held up high as he charges towards her to free her.

Nancy is right behind him and the two of them start to annihilate the vines, but they’re though and won’t budge. Steve is cursing up a storm, feeling the urge to go feral, to claw and bite until his best friend, his soulmate is free, but he never gets the chance.

A vine creeps around his neck, yanking him back as it is aided by others that pin him to the wall opposite to Robin, the two of them only able to stare at each other with absolute terror, while Nancy gets taken too. All three of them are helpless, out of commission.

They’re getting choked out, spots are already dancing in front of his eyes and he knows that any moment they can fade to black and it’ll be over. They’re never coming home again. Robin won’t get to go on her date with Chrissy, Nancy won’t get to reach Mike and ask if he’s okay, Steve is won’t get a chance with Eddie.

Tears flow down his face as he claws at the vines, kicking his feet as he gasps. Suddenly there’s a loud bang and the wall next to Robin explodes as the vines drop her.

She heaves a few deep breaths, looking around shocked, before realizing her situation and scrambling to her feet. Steve can only watch as she dives to the bag and gets out a molotov cocktail and lights the vines on fire.

In that moment, Steve doesn’t care much about how he is also nearly set on fire, only caring that he is dropped by the vines. He lays on his back for a second, just gasping.

Meanwhile, Nancy is still being held and Steve realizes she had managed to keep a hold of her shotgun, which had exploded the wall next to Robin. As the fire gets to her, she too is dropped and lies next to Steve as the two catch their breath.

Robin is standing, hands on knees as she pants too, while also managing to keep up a steady stream of curses mixed in with some oh my gods.

Nancy recovers first, rolling up on her knees before getting up. As Steve watches her, face determined, he realized he could have loved her in a different life. She says: “We have to burn the house down. The whole thing needs to go.”

That, Steve can get behind. So, he also quickly gets to his feet.

While doing so, he catches a glimpse of the outside through the window. The feint sound of metal has stopped, which is correct, since Eddie is supposed to be gone already, but the bats are still circling something and it’s close enough to the trailer park that Steve feels his throat constrict, while a hold hand grips his heart.

He later won’t be able to explain why he just knew something is up the second he sees the swarm of bats.

It’s the same feeling he got at graduation when he wanted to leave Hawkins, but couldn’t, like when he was asked to come to Cali, but couldn’t, when he wanted to drive that mobile home out of Hawkins, but found himself driving to the Creel house anyway. Something has always kept him here, made him turn around and right now that something tells him that Eddie is in serious trouble.

Robin must have noticed him freeze, because she squeezes his hand softly as she tentatively asks: “Dingus?”

“Eddie’s in trouble,” Steve replies, looking right back at her.

She frowns and for a second Steve thinks that this is it, this is where their understanding ends. Her soul frequency won’t pick up on this and she’ll think he’s crazy. But he shouldn’t have doubted her, because she just nods and says: “We got it under control here. Go help.”

And while Steve is sure, he hesitates anyway. This is Robin and Chrissy on the line too, along with Nancy. He can’t just leave them here in Vecna’s clutches. But Robin urges again: “Go!”

He takes one step down the stairs as Nancy calls out: “What are you doing? We need to end this. Now!”

“Eddie’s in trouble,” Steve explains again.

“How do you know?” Nancy asks, not understanding.

“I just know,” Steve replies, almost desperate.

“We need you here,” Nancy frowns.

“No, he needs me there,” Steve tells her and a truth he now realizes comes bursting out of him before he can stop it. “Dammit, Nance, I fucking love him and I might never see him again if I don’t go.”

Nancy’s eyes grow wide and Steve realizes that he just kind of came out to her. Luckily, this is not the moment to be homophobic, so if she has any issue with it, Steve isn’t there to find out. It’s like his confession has given him wings as he flies down the stairs and out of the house.

On the way back, Steve doesn’t give a singular fuck about any vines he may be stepping on or how loud he might be. All he can think is of how Eddie might be in trouble and Steve might not get to him in time.

His lungs ache and his legs burn and he feels so so grateful that Chrissy had forced him to keep up his workout regime to be able to practice with her, or this would have been so much worse.

He bursts out of the forest and onto the road that leads to the trailer park. The swarm of bats is now much closer and Steve can see Eddie in the middle of it. He looks beautiful, standing tall as he holds his trashcan lid up as his defense while bats fly around him.

However, it’s one versus a hundred and Eddie was never going to win that fight.

Steve watches in horror as Eddie goes down, the short distance between them seeming like a thousand miles as Steve tries to force his legs faster and faster, while feeling like he’s moving through molasses.

After what feels like forever, he hits the column of bats. Their sharp fangs and mean claws are everywhere, as he whacks blindly with his nail bat, trying to get to the center where Eddie is getting chewed up like he’s their dinner.

Steve was in his position not that long ago and he knows how much it hurts. His own sides ache in sympathy, but maybe also because bats are battering against them to prevent him from getting through.

Still, Steve isn’t easily deterred and makes his way to the center. Eddie looks horrible, three bats are holding him down, one on each hand and one around his neck, while others tear bits of flesh out of his stomach. Never before has Steve loathed being right this much.

His mind runs a thousand miles a minute to figure out how to get Eddie out of it, his body handling almost faster.

He slams his nail bat down on the bat chocking Eddie, which is the most life threatening. As Eddie gasps in his first real breath, Steve hits the ones feeding on Eddie’s stomach, before throwing himself down.

Staying upright is both impossible with the storm of creatures trying to push him down and not the smartest move, since it makes him an easier target.

Without really thinking too much about the position he straddles Eddie’s legs and uses his own body. He’s wearing his jacket, which means it’s harder to chew through and since it is his back that makes it harder to reach their important organs. Their legs are still out, but those can take a beating, which means their heads are the only problem and Eddie’s arms.

Eddie is still being held down like he is on a cross and bend over him like Steve is, he can’t use the nail bat, which is still uselessly clutched in his right hand.

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, sounding anguished and out of breath.

“Saving you,” Steve attempts to smile down at him, but he’s sure the effect is ruined by the amount of tears streaming down his face.

“No, no, no, no, you’re supposed to be with Vecna, you’re supposed to be safe,” Eddie says, voice cracking as tears start to leak out of his eyes as well.

“I could sense you doing something stupid,” Steve replies, cupping Eddie’s cheek. They’re pressed close, chest to chest, their noses nearly touching with how small they’re trying to make themselves in the hope they’ll live.

“But you weren’t supposed to be hurt by it,” Eddie tells him. “It was my own stupid thing. The bats got into the trailer, they could’ve gotten Dustin.”

“You don’t have to explain, just stay alive,” Steve snaps, a little harshly. He doesn’t want an explanation, he wants Eddie to stay with him.

The bats give them a small relief as they prepare for a new volley. Steve uses the opportunity to sit back on his knees and heave the nail bat up to smash the two bats still holding Eddie down.

Steve can’t see behind him, but Eddie can. He uses his newly freed hands to yank Steve back down to him, arms around his neck to protect his arteries there with the thick sleeves of his jacket. The move puts them in a little bubble of just them, their eyes inches apart.

Eddie hisses in pain as a bat chews up his leg and Steve has to grit his own teeth as he feels claw scribble at his leather covered back.

Below him, Eddie pants and in a different context, Steve might have had a problem right now. He says: “I got you, Eds. Just hang on. Focus on me.”

Slowly Eddie forces his clenched eyes open and lets out a harsh breath, before he repeats: “Just focus on you? I can do that. I can totally do that, sweetheart.”

“I’m here,” Steve promises, hearing how his own voice breaks as he keeps assuring Eddie, like the other had done for him in the tiny bathroom in the Mayfield trailer. “You’re okay, you’re okay, I got you. Just hang on. I got you. I’m here. You’re okay.”

All throughout Eddie just keeps staring at him, those big beautiful eyes that Steve has always loved so much boring into his own. It’s intense in the best way.

A bat pulls on Steve’s hair and he can feel Eddie hold onto him with all his might so the bats won’t carry him off.

The two of them are interlocked in an embrace that is keeping them alive. Steve is protecting Eddie’s organs from further damage, while Eddie protects Steve’s neck and keeps him tied to the earth, to Eddie, to ensure he keeps covering him.

It occurs to Steve that they might die together now. That instead of coming back here to find Eddie dead, Robin and Nancy might return to find both their corpses, or worse, Dustin will keep waiting at the other side of the portal for four people, who will never return to him.

Even despite it all, Steve is still scared, but he came here to save Eddie and make sure Eddie knows that he loves him, just in case they’ll never see each other again. He can’t let that be unsaid, he can’t loose someone again without telling them how much they meant to him. He’s not doing it again. He refuses.

Before he can, Eddie whimpers: “Fuck, sweetheart, it hurt. How did you do this? Fuck. Holy shit, you walked this off.”

“You saved me then,” Steve says.

“Then you know how much it sucked,” Eddie groans. “I’d never do it again, if I knew it hurt this bad. What on earth drove you to do this?”

“Because I love you too much,” Steve tells him without preamble, no lie in his eyes. He just puts himself on a platter, because it’s the truth and they’re too far in for Steve to lie again.

“What?” Eddie chokes, looking at him with wide and shocked eyes.

Steve doesn’t care that Eddie isn’t saying it back, it’s not even about that right now. Above them the storm rages on and bats chitter everywhere. Loudly Steve repeats: “Because I fucking love you, Eddie.”

It feels cathartic to finally say it after so long and he screams to be heard above the noise: “I love you so fucking much. You’re beautiful and I’ve had a crush on you for forever. I don’t even care if you don’t love me back, I just need you to know that I love you and I’m here for you. You’re not alone and you’re not a coward. You’re a hero, Eddie. You’re a fucking hero. I’m so scared of what loving you means, but you make me feel brave enough to try.”

Eddie is crying and Steve knows that someone crying isn’t a really good sign after confessing your love for them, but there isn’t much for him to do.

Bats are trying to pull him away, wrapping their tails around his arms as they try to drag him off to do god knows what. So, Steve has to bury his head in Eddie’s neck as he hangs on for dear life as Eddie does the same.

“I love you too.” For a second Steve thinks he is imaging the words being spoken into his ear, but then Eddie’s voice gets louder and more sure and he repeats it louder: “I love you too.”

A dam breaks in both of them.

Steve feels like he can finally breathe, yet he is completely breathless too. After more than a year of pining and countless of scared months, Eddie loves him back. Eddie loves him back. Holy shit. He feels invincible, despite their doom flying around their heads.

Eddie’s dam is a verbal dam as he rambles on: “You’re so perfect, holy fuck. I love you so much. You’re good with the kids and strong and kind and caring and you believed me. You believed me. I- I love you so much. You make me want to live. Fuck, I want to live. I want to make it out of here, I want to graduate, I want to take you on a date and introduce you to Uncle Wayne.”

At the end of his confession, Eddie is crying and Steve is too, because he can picture their future clearly and he knows they might not have this. With how the bats are battering them, they’re lucky if they make it out alive.

Still, through his own tears, he replies: “I want to stargaze with you, I want to go on silly movie dates, I want to hold your hand and learn how to braid you hair. I want to sit in on your games and watch you play with the kids.”

“I want to move to the city with you,” Eddie builds off of Steve’s words. “I want wake up next you every morning. I want to know your hair routine and how you take your coffee.”

Steve can feel himself smiling despite the tears and he confesses: “I want to cook you dinner when you come home and trace all your tattoos.”

“I want to know if your moles make constellations,” Eddie says, then softly adds: “I want to know what it’s like to not be a virgin.”

That can be scary to admit, Steve knows, he can still remember how he had sex his first time just so that the teasing would stop. He squeezes Eddie tightly with his own body and says: “I want to make it good for you.”

“Thank you,” Eddie whispers, fingers digging into Steve’s body as he holds him close.

It’s all just fucking fantasy, both of them know. It seems as if their plan is failing and if this goes on for any longer, they won’t be strong enough to hold on. Steve’s own muscles ache under the strain and soon he’ll be ripped away. But for now they just live in their own little fantasy and pretend tomorrow is within reach.

“I love you,” Steve says, because he can now and he’s going to say it as many times as he can, just in case he’s never able to do it again.

“I love you too,” Eddie replies.

He must be thinking the same, because they continue to say the words back and forth. Steve’s face is still buried in Eddie’s neck and he hates that he won’t even get to see Eddie’s face properly, not even one last time.

Then, without warning, it’s quiet. All around them, the bats fall down. Dead. Thunder is no longer booming and the eerie quiet, somehow feels worse than the cacophony from before.

Cautiously, Steve sits up, blushing a little as he realizes how he is straddling Eddie. However, as he looks around, the coast seems to be clear. Softly and a little bit in awe, he says: “It’s over. It stopped. We won.”

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie coughs and Steve’s eyes whip back down. Blood is streaming from his stomach and when he scrambles off, he sees how his legs are completely chewed up too.

Steve has been saved from most of the damage by being a small ball on top of Eddie. Eddie hasn’t been spared like that. With horror Steve whispers: “No, no, no, no,” as he crawls up next to Eddie and tries to stem the bleeding, though he doesn’t have enough hands.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” Eddie tells him with a soft smile, his hand reaches up and caresses Steve’s cheek. “I’m okay. You love me. That’s- fuck, that’s so much more than I thought I could have.”

The words sound too much like a goodbye message for Steve’s taste and he hisses: “No. Fuck you. You’re not allowed to die. Not today. Not on my watch.”

It’s as if Steve has been wound up and is now put down, ready to start moving and not stop until he runs out of steam. Eddie might be a tall guy, but he’s lanky and after months of throwing human beings in the air, Steve is able to hoist him up.

Eddie groans in pain and Steve winces in sympathy, but he’s not stopping now. Rather that Eddie is pain and alive, then out of his misery but dead.

He practically runs to the trailer and the door is flung open by Dustin. He looks shocked to see Steve there, then spots Eddie. He shrieks: “What the hell happened?”

“Bats,” Steve replies. “Now get the fuck out of the way. He needs a hospital.”

At this point, he isn’t even mad that Dustin came here anyway. He kind of guessed that it would happen and the fight is over now anyway. Plus, the fact that Dustin is here means that there is a way through again. God, if they lost time now because he was paranoid about Dustin, he’d never forgive himself.

Indeed, Dustin scrambles out of the way and Steve can see a new rope, fashioned out of clothes this time, hanging through the portal.

He maneuvers Eddie into a fireman carry, before starting the climb. It’s slower with Eddie on his back, but he manages to get up. At the portal itself, it gets a little awkward and he has to throw Eddie through, his heart breaking at the pitiful noise Eddie lets out when he hits the ground.

Quickly he climbs after. Before he can leave, however, Dustin yells: “Wait for me!”

Steve looks back up to see Dustin climb the rope. He knows he would hate it if he was forced to stay behind, but the whole team isn’t back yet and he knows he’ll be fast enough to drive away before Dustin can reach them.

“No, wait for Nancy and Robin,” he instructs. “Tell them we’re at the hospital. I don’t know if they’re okay. They might need help.”

He can see Dustin seethe for all but two seconds, before he realizes it’s necessary no matter how much he hates it. So he nods and urges Steve to go on.

Steve doesn’t think twice about picking Eddie back up and rushing to the mobile home, whose owners luckily haven’t taken it back. Eddie is groaning, which is better than being unconscious, but Steve knows it won’t be long, so he steps on the gas.

The drive to the hospital is grueling as he breaks about every traffic law to get there. Next to him Eddie first moans in pain, before it goes deathly quiet and Steve can’t stop to check if he’s still breathing, still alive.

At the hospital itself, he drives in front of the entrance, letting the motor run as he grabs Eddie again. He’s knocked out, but still breathing, much to Steve’s relief.

He has Eddie in a bridal carry when he enters the hospital. The two of them must make quite the pair in their dirty, bloodied, military style outfits while Steve screams: “Doctor! He needs a doctor! He’s fucking dying over here.”

Doctors and nurses rush over to take Eddie from him, one of them asks him what happens. All Steve says: “He saved my life. Animal attack,” then it all hits him and he passes out.

A/N:

Time in ST itself is weird, but it seems that they were chocked out, which I found unrealistic, so I gave my girls more badass moments, bc they deserve it <3 (and for the steddie :3)

Also ngl I made myself emotional with this chapter omgggg

#rr writing #stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #robin buckley #eddie lives au #platonic stobin #buckingham #chrissy cunningham #nancy wheeler #the party stranger things #dustin henderson #cheerleader steve harrington au #st season 4 #tw: injury

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draculasstrawhat · 7 months

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I think I’ve worked out my problem with a lot of Covid messaging - and I mean this in a very practical way, in terms of compliance with guidance, rather than just a “well, if you asked me NICELY,” - which is that it focuses pretty much only on the bad, dangerous, frightening stuff, and not on the improvements.

And like, I appreciate a lot of this is because of failures in state-level guidance, provision, and support? But it essentially means that the majority of information is coming from people who - for a variety of reasons - are scared shitless by Covid, and are desperately trying to get people to stop taking risks. Which is both very, very understandable, and utterly useless from a public health perspective.

Like with masks. I can’t help but feel that a, “This new mask offers you 78.6% more protection than a standard surgical mask, and 96.2% more protection than a 2ply cloth mask,” is going to inspire a lot more faith and compliance than, “cloth masks are basically useless. Also, if you wear a blue surgical mask you might as well stab your granny,” messaging - especially given that the new masks are expensive, single use, and not like… provided in GP surgeries, and that people have already invested a lot of time and money in to getting enough blue surgical masks/2ply cloth masks when the guidance was that those were enough.

People like to feel that they’re doing good, that they’re helping. This was something a lot of WWII messaging got right, incidentally- they had huge scrap metal drives that materially benefited absolutely no one, but raised morale, and made people feel like they were helping. I’m not suggesting that, ofc, but what I mean is… earlier in the pandemic a lot of people got a ‘warm glow’ from doing ‘the right thing’, even if that thing wasn’t… the most scientifically accurate thing. That has more or less vanished, because people feel like masking doesn’t help either because you need an unaffordable, ever changing, fancy kind of mask worn in a complicated way for it to make any difference at all, or because they’ve decided the whole thing is bunkum anyway because the guidance keeps changing. Whereas if that guidance were focused on *improvements*, I genuinely think compliance would be better. Not “this mask is worse that that one and will do less,” but “that mask is better than this one and will do even more.”

Basically, if you set the boundary for safety to what feels an unobtainable level, and associate not meeting it with shame… people don’t really step up, they just go “fuck it.” Especially when, in the main, we don’t really control our own exposure to risk. Take me for eg, I’m variously immunocompromised, and wfh. My kids, however, spend all day in a classroom with 30 other kids, inadequate ventilation, and no support for masking.

When the mask mandate in schools and public places was removed, my kids kept masking for a fair while, and I was still social distancing, only doing essential errands, masking indoors, etc. We all got Covid within a fortnight. I was doing everything I could to manage my own risk, but something entirely outside of my control fucked me anyway, and after that it just all felt so *futile*.

And I’m not saying, “So fuck everyone else, I’m going to go and lick fenceposts and cough on handrails,” or whatever… it’s just this pervading sense that no matter what I do, whatever precautions I take, I’m not really protecting anyone - including myself. And the messaging I’m seeing, particularly right now, essentially confirms that. Any mask I can afford to buy is basically useless, LFTs don’t work, the vaccine doesn’t work, and nothing I can do will be good enough, and even if I do my best, there’s no government support, and I’m still going to get Covid anyway - so what’s the point of doing any of it?

And the answer is, ofc, that this hyper negative messaging is actually also bullshit, and that even if flawless behaviour won’t automatically protect you, any masking helps a bit, the vaccine helps a lot, and while nothing I can do will guarantee I don’t get Covid, I can still manage mine and other people’s risk - but I know that because I’m ultimately a very pragmatic person.

And this isn’t me putting it all on the doomsayers, because I absolutely understand why they are so frightened and angry right now - this is, primarily, a failure at an institutional level, leaving us all exposed to a very, very awful disease. But in the vacuum left by that, I’m not sure their message is actually *helping*.

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anna-in-india · 2 years

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Bus Notes

Watch where you put your feet... Feet are sacred in Hinduism, and stomping around on other peoples' feet is a surefire way to (a) be disrespectful to others (b) stand out more than you already do.

...but don't worry about any other personal space. People will be ALL up in your grill, and it's normal. There might be plenty of space on the bus, but you'll still have a big sweaty belly three inches from your face because well - different social expectations about space. If you grew up in a country of 1.4 billion you might not be worried about it either.

You never know when you're going to score an invite to a three year old's birthday party. I've ridden the bus with a little girl who goes to school on my same route, and we've become pals. Every time I see her she crawls all over me and she says "I have brown eyes" and then points to my blue ones. Fast forward, and now me and her mom text on WhatsApp and I've received an invitation to her birthday, photos her medical records when she got sick (just go with it), and videos of her singing in school. People are open and friendly here.

Check out the shrines. Every driver has made their own special shrines on the front dash, and sometimes in a few other places. They're special and elaborate. The flowers are refreshed regularly, the votives are kept upright. Amidst the chaos of traffic, sweat, hollering and jostling, there is thoughtful devotion with us on every moment of the ride.

5. Enjoy the women's section. There is a special, indescribable safety in the women's sections of the bus and metro. No need to sit elsewhere. 6. Do sit. "Be comfortable." As your typical anxious, I'd rather be puttering or at least standing, type, I really mean this one. The amount of times people told me to "be comfortable" at the beginning of my time here was amusing. Now, I know I should just sit or else I'm going to be asked to sit 8 times by 8 different strangers. And...they're right. It's tiring here. So, do sit. Be comfortable. 7. And the best seat goes to... I think my India hot take is that I like the front spot on the bench on the left side of the bus. Great views of the traffic and the bus driver...they always have a style and it's fun to watch them roll cigarettes or just keep their hand on the horn for the entire drive! There's also constant breeze up front because the front of the bus has a windshield window, in addition to the side windows. So, less COVID/etcetc and I can dry my sweat before I go get sweaty again! But, the engine is in the front... so again *watch your feet* because it gets fairly hot. You might have a sweat-free back but salt-caked trousers and sneakers. Trade-offs.

8.Brave the monsoon to catch the bus. If the streets aren't flooded or there isn't a festival blocking the roads, the busses are still running. People always wait out the monsoon here. No matter where you're going or how urgent it is, if it's raining no one is expected to be on time. But, when everyone else is waiting out the rain, the bus will be less crowded and it will be - dare I say - relaxing! You won’t get wet so long as your umbrella management is solid when you hop on. 9. Don't be a glazed donut. I often find myself glazing over here. It's such a stimulating place, it can be hard to keep noticing all the fun, quirky things and not want to just retreat to my phone where the stimuli are predictable and few. But, i pass both a Crocs storefront and a beautiful temple - Birla Mandir - on the way to and from school. There is something hilarious and ridiculous, serene and magnificent, and normal happening all the time, all at once here. Who would want to miss that!

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elriell · 3 years

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"Elain doesn't belong in the Night Court..."

I think what people fail to acknowledge within this statement is how much time Sarah has put in to driving the point home that peoples perception of Elain vs. the reality are two very separate things.

Exp;

“Elain was like a dog, loyal to whatever master kept her fed and in comfort.”

“Nesta was wrong, Cassian realized, to think Elain as loyal and loving as a dog. Elain saw every single thing Nesta had done, and understood why.”

“But Elain … The Spring Court had been made for someone like her.”

“But she hadn’t hesitated to come. When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed.”

“Elain said, “Then I will find it. I might require some time to … reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.” - “Absolutely not,” Nesta spat, fingers curling at her sides. “Absolutely not.”

“Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

“Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.”

“But I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she'd disappoint you all. ” He sighed toward the ceiling. “With time and safety, perhaps we ’ll see a different side of her emerge."

ACOSF & Feysand POV, really took the time to point out that what her sisters and some of the IC think about Elain only to get dissproven/unveiled. The same will stand for this statement of fitting in, this is said to some variety a few times throughout the series and it will be yet another misconception about her character.

Elain is finally pushing back against who people think she is or should be.

“Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

“I didn’t dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all.”

“And torn up by thorns,” I mused, recalling a morning this past summer when Elain had come into the house, her right palm bleeding from several gashes thanks to a stubborn rosebush that had pierced her gloves. The thorns had broken off in her skin, leaving sharp splinters that I’d had to pull free.”

She is going to do what she wants, whether she gets her hands a little dirty or whether others agree with her, I believe that it what SJM is really leading up to with these scenes, there is a lot of thorns beneath the surface.

“Elain, mourn as she might for the life she would have had with Graysen, had found a place, a role here. Tending to the gardens of Feyre’s veritable palace on the river, helping other residents of Velaris restore their own destroyed gardens—she had purpose, and joy, and friends: those two half-wraiths who worked in Rhysand’s household. But those things had always come easily to her sister. Had always made Elain special.”

Elain has been said to be not only adapting but thriving with joy and purpose within The Night Court, but she also seems to understand and empathise with the people within the court and it's traditions, even more so than its own High Lady.

The day people stop treating Elain like so shallow, bland, flower child will be the day I sleep soundly. She is insanely wise as both Feyre and Mor have said before, her depth is much beyond the surface, yet people still weakly claim theres nothing to her.

READ THE BOOKS, STOP SKIMMING THE IMPORTANT THINGS FOR YOUR OWN BENEFIT. PLS I BEG. You do her such a disservice.

“It’s their tradition, though,” Elain countered, her face still flushed with the cold. “One that they fought and died to protect in the war. Perhaps that’s the better way to think of it, rather than feeling guilty. To remember that this day means something to them. All of them, regardless of who has more, who has less, and in celebrating the traditions, even through the presents, we honor those who fought for its very existence, for the peace this city now has.”

For a moment, I just stared at my sister, the wisdom she’d spoken. Not a whisper of those oracular abilities. Just clear eyes and an open expression. “You’re right,” I said, taking in the insignia rising before me.”

Also as a side-note, all the characters at one point or another have felt out of place, even two of the chore members Az (still probably feeling it) & Feyre, so this whole argument is nonsense to me.

“I don’t really know where I fit in anymore,” I admitted, perhaps only because the wind was screeching around us and Rhys had already winnowed ahead to where Cassian’s dark form flew—beyond the wall. "I’ve been alive almost five and a half centuries, and I’m not sure of that, either,” Azriel said.”

Elain Archeron is going to belong where she decides and with who she decides. A huge part of her ARC is going to be about choice [irregardless of who you believe she will end up with, it will be her choice], and the fact that people constantly disregard her own words/choices in favour of Nesta or Cassian's quotes is beyond confusing to me.

Elain could choose the Spring Court, the Autumn Court, the Day Court, the Night Court, heck even the Winter Court but it won't be because Cassian thinks she doesn't suit the colour black or anyone else. *eyeroll emoji*

#Elain Archeron #ACOTAR #Night Court #ACOSF #Elriel #a court of thorns and roses #pro elain #m for ts

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turtle-steverogers · 3 years

Note

Pre serum Steve once fell of a balcony and Bucky caught him. Bucky reminds him every chance he gets.

anon, you have inspired me... i saw this. thought "YES", then scurried to my google drive

and so here is a fic, wholly based on this ask

“Steve, what the hell are you doing?”

Steve twists around from where he’s perched on the fire escape rail, back against the cool brick wall of their shitty tenement. It’s nearly April and the weather’s getting warmer, a soft breeze keeping it just cool enough for long pants. Steve has always preferred warmer weather, though, and he thought he’d take advantage of the first truly nice day that Spring. His sketchbook lies open on his lap, propped against his knee. A light, but detailed sketch of the other tenement buildings that spanned out in front of him fills the page.

“Drawing,” Steve says, glancing at Bucky where his head is poking out the window. He looks concerned and his eyes keep flicking to where Steve’s holding himself stable with his free leg. “Why are you already home? What time is it?”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow and Steve wants to stick his thumb on the little divot to smooth it out. He always thought Bucky would get a permanent wrinkle there if he kept frowning so much.

“Nearly 6:00,” Bucky says, and Steve realizes he must have let time get away from him. That tends to happen, when he draws, his mind blessedly quiet for a few hours as he loses himself in the methodical scratch of his charcoal pencils. Still, he had gotten home from his work restocking shelves at the local grocer around 3:00. He didn’t think it had been that long.

“Oh,” he says.

Bucky climbs out onto the escape. He’s wearing his work clothes still-- an oily white shirt tucked into heavy denim pants. His hair's hanging down in his eyes. Steve knows he’ll want him to cut it soon.

He wants to reach out to him, but he can’t. Not out here where anyone could see. It’s torture, not being able to touch anywhere but in the confines of their bed, hidden under the covers where prying eyes can’t strip away their privacy-- their God given right to love each other as wholly as human nature could allow. Steve purses his lips and forces himself to look back down at his sketch.

“I don’t like you sitting up there,” Bucky says.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Just because you’re afraid of heights doesn’t mean that everyone else is, Buck. Besides, we’re only three stories up.”

Bucky huffs, stepping closer. “That’s still far,” he says. “You fall, you’ll splatter all over the sidewalk and scar Miss Maggie downstairs for life. I’d have to pay for her heart failure and your funeral.”

Steve snorts and closes his sketchbook, thoroughly distracted now. The sun’s starting to set anyway, and it’s bound to get cold soon.

“You’re so dramatic,” Steve says. “I’m holding myself up just fine. See? I can even reach for my other charcoals and there ain’t no problem.”

To prove himself, Steve closes his sketchbook and tosses it onto the fire escape, sticking the charcoal he was using in the binding. He twists around after that and leans over to grab another pencil from where he’d left his spares on a ledge to his right, his thigh muscles flexing as he holds himself in place. The pencils are farther away than he last remembers them, though, because he feels himself reaching further and further until his balance is tipping and he’s tumbling over the side.

“Stevie!” Bucky’s frantic voice shouts, but Steve can barely hear him, too busy gasping in surprise.

There’s a suspended moment of terror as the world seems to go quiet, his ears ringing in alarm as he feels himself starting to fall and oh god, Bucky was right, he really shouldn’t have tried to reach out for his pencils and now he really was going to fall to his death and Miss Maggie was going to see him break his neck on the sidewalk or he’ll kill an alleycat on impact or--

--A strong hand closes around his bicep, catching him before he can fully go over the side of the fire escape. He’s shaking with adrenaline as Bucky lifts him back to safety. He’s speaking, Steve realizes belatedly.

“--Such a fucking idiot, I swear to god, you’re gonna be the death of me, Rogers.”

“You say that, like, once a week,” Steve says weakly, and he notices then that he’s shaking. His teeth are chattering, adrenaline coursing through him. He must look as freaked out as he feels, because Bucky takes one look at his face and softens.

He glances around, then braces a hand on the back of Steve’s neck, grounding him. A moment later, Steve is being pulled into his chest. He’s sweaty and smells like the docks, but Steve presses closer, inhaling deeply in time with Bucky.

“You okay, kid?” Bucky asks.

Steve nods against his chest, hiding. “Sorry. Spooked.”

“I don’t blame you,” Bucky says, pulling away after sneaking a soft kiss on Steve’s head. He swoops down to collect Steve’s sketchbook. “C’mon, let’s go inside.” He straightens and points an accusing finger at Steve. “I told you so, by the way.”

Steve just rolls his eyes.

“No! Not without you!”

“Aw, hell…”

Steve’s going to die.

He’s thought that a lot, in his 25 years of life. But now, as he sizes up the impossible jump between him and Bucky, he really truly believes it.

Bucky made it across, if only barely, and Steve wishes he would just go. There’s a deep pain in his eyes now-- one Steve noticed as soon as he lifted Bucky off that goddamn experiment table. If anyone deserves to get out of this fiery hell, it’s him. But Steve knows that he really won’t leave without him. He’d damn himself to die by the burning hands of war right alongside Steve.

Steve knows this, because he would do the same.

He takes the jump running, giving himself one moment to falter before he’s soaring through the air. It burns, and he knows he’s breathing in so much smoke. Fire licks at his heels and singes his clothes, melting the soles of his boots and mottling his skin.

It feels like he’s caught in midair, flying forever without falling as the other side gets closer and closer and holy shit, he’s going to make it-- he’s really going to--

He manages to grab hold of the railing on the other side, screaming as it breaks and bends, leaving him dangling. The metal is smoltering and he gasps, letting go on instinct as it burns the skin of his palms and shit, he’s such an idiot, but before he can fall, Bucky’s leaning over and grabbing him by the forearm.

He hauls him up onto the platform and they collapse onto the ground, panting as they claw at each other, needing something tangible-- real-- to keep them sane and then they’re kissing, teeth clacking together and noses bumping. Bucky’s sobbing, Steve notices and he pulls back to reassure him, only to realize he’s doing the same. They kiss until the air in their lungs turns to ash and they pull away to breathe, foreheads resting together.

“You’re such a fucking dumbass,” Bucky pants.

“Fuck you,” Steve answers. He kisses him again, hungry for more-- yearning to crawl under Bucky’s skin and hide there. “Thanks for catching me.” And it’s horribly insufficient. There’s so much to say to each other, so many bases to cover and things that can’t go unsaid, but Bucky must understand, because he guides Steve’s head down to his chest. A position Steve never thought he’d have the privilege of falling into again.

“Always gonna catch you,” he says. It’s quiet for a long time, nothing but their heavy breathing and the roaring fire to fill the spaces between them. Steve opens his mouth to say something; anything. He needs to ask if Bucky’s okay-- what they were doing to him-- and he knows Bucky has questions. Ones that he deserves answers to more than anyone, but the words get caught in his throat. It doesn’t matter, though, because Bucky laughs wetly. “Like-- like that fuckin’ time you almost fell off the fire escape and--”

Steve groans, shoving at Bucky before gathering him close and breathing him in, because if Bucky can find it in him to tease, then things have to be okay.

“You ain’t ever letting that go, are you?”

“Never.”

thanks for reading, chiefs

#it's a shitty little thing #but they are my babies #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #stucky fic #marvel #marvel shit

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thran-duils · 3 years

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Learn Her Place

Title: Learn Her Place Summary: Fem!Omega!Reader x Alpha!Tony Stark x Alpha!Steve Rogers x Alpha!Bucky Barnes. The reader works for S.H.I.E.L.D. and is on suppressants. In this universe, we obviously are working with multiple Alphas being able to share an Omega. The reader has had sex before but it has been with Betas. She is very distracting to the Alphas and they’re tired of not being able to focus on their work, so they decide to make sure her suppressants no longer work and she is where they think she belongs. Without the suppressants, the reader succumbs to her hormones very quickly. Words: 4,894 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Non-con, ABO dynamics, smut, breeding, brief mention of infidelity, multiple partners, angst. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! Author’s Note: Kudos to whoever picks up on the movie line reference

Masterpost

Steve hated it.

Watching her come back from one-night stands with Betas and not feel any remorse about it.

She was an Omega and was granted freedom by the suppressants given to her. She was wasting her fertile cycles away on frivolous orgasms with random strangers. She was able to infiltrate regular society, mainly hide herself away into the crowd. It was not foolproof though.

There was still something there during what her cycle should be. If one did not know she was Omega, they would not attribute the feeling of arousal to her. But he – along with every other high ranking agent – knew she was and it was that much easier to pinpoint it. He could pick up on it and it made him clench his fists every time she was in close proximity, her infiltrating all his senses. He saw the other Alphas in the room tense too at those times, having a difficult time focusing on the mission briefs with her sitting so close. And one of those times was right the hell now. Tony was staring at her abashedly across the table, his fingers at his lips, his jaw clenched. His stare could be excused, he was an intense person. Bucky, next to Steve, chewed on his cheeks while he tried avoiding looking over at her.

It was selfish.

And foolish because the suppressants only did so much, and they acted like it was a solve all. S.H.I.E.L.D was trying so hard to be inclusive and it was only serving to bring down focus and morale when all they wanted to do was mount one of their team members who was acting above her Omega rank.

She had raised her hand and was answering a question. She was smart, there was no doubt about that. She had worked really hard to get up to this level and she continued to go above and beyond.

But…

Steve’s eyes raked down her clavicle to where the top of her breasts were exposed above her shirt. She most certainly had a push up on. His thoughts trailed to what they looked like bare. How they would look at different angles… when she was riding him, below him, from the side… all the different positions he could get her in. His favorite: cradled in his arms, his hand on her round stomach…

He snapped to attention when Wanda literally snapped her fingers in front of his face. He had been spacing out.

“You alright?” she snorted.

“Yeah, fine,” he said rubbing the back of his neck. He gathered up his file and got up from the table without another word, walking towards the door.

He spotted her down the hall, speaking with Thor. Thor was enthralled, looking at whatever she was showing him in her file. He was a huge teddy bear, just like Bruce.

Steve caught sight of Tony and Bucky coming to stand next to him, their eyes fixated on her too down the hallway.

“Anyone else not catch a single thing that was said in that meeting?” Bucky half joked.

“She’s distracting,” Steve snapped in hushed tones. “How do they not notice the affect she has? Has no one said anything?”

“Oh, I’ve already brought it up,” Tony told Steve and Bucky, rolling his eyes. “They’re marking it up to me not being able to ‘control myself’ and shaming me for it.” He added scornfully, “Were you forced to watch that goddamn video—”

“Where they were described as ‘delicate flowers’? Yeah, I did. And was that supposed to make us feel any better about thinking about them being put in harm’s way?” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. “They shouldn’t be putting her out in the field. Here in the office is one thing. But they shouldn’t be putting any position outside. They’re too susceptible to persuasion.”

Tony said, “That’s why it’s supposed to be secret about their Omega status.”

“I don’t like them out there,” Bucky repeated. “Not just for them but for the rest of our safety too.”

Thor was so close to her, laughing at whatever she had said. He was not affected at all. Steve ground his teeth watching that in front of him. She was comfortable around him, her hand coming to rest on his arm. He felt jealously scratching away at his insides, knowing she was in a cycle.

“It’s gonna drive me insane if I don’t leave,” Tony grated, tearing his eyes away from her to focus on the other two. “You going to the party tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Bucky and Steve said in unison, still staring down the hall.

Tony snorted, “Who the hell planned it on a Thursday, anyhow? Don’t get too worked up if she takes a random person home. I for one won’t be there to witness that. That is unless…” He pulled a syringe out of his pocket, holding it up and Bucky swiped it in the blink of an eye, making it disappear again. Tony threw him a wry smile and said, “I think it’s about time. Don’t hesitate too long now since she’s just gone into the cycle. It’ll take a day or two though to work, remember! And don’t let Banner catch you with that.”

He clapped Bucky on the shoulder before turning on his heel, leaving the other two Alphas to stew.

<><><>

Bucky and Steve walked into the loud club, finding everyone in disarray already in the VIP area. They had been on last minute mission and had returned late and the party was already well underway. The upper space of the club was packed of S.H.I.E.L.D agents at all varying stages of intoxication. Some had set up tables to play poker – something normally illegal in clubs but no one was bothering them – as well as varying card games.

Of course both of their attention was drawn in towards Y/N. Clint was laughing at the fact she had walked back from up the stairs with a sandwich shoved halfway in her mouth. “Y/N! The food is on the way! You remember? That we ordered?”

“But I’m hungry now,” she whined, her mouth full. “And Wanda asked for half of it!”

“You’re such a baby,” Clint laughed barely keeping it together.

Wanda was in stitches, her head thrown back against her chair. Vision was laughing in tandem with Wanda, following her movement. She only laughed harder when Y/N held out the untouched part of the sandwich that was supposed to be for her.

“Thank you,” Wanda said, taking deep breaths as she tried to stifle her laughter.

Natasha appeared at Bucky and Steve’s sides, raising her eyebrows. “They are drunk,” Natasha hissed at them over the music.

And she smirked then, an unfamiliar kind of smirk. And Steve cocked his head.

“Are you drunk?”

She shrugged sheepishly which was all the answer they needed.

You grasped onto Steve’s arm, startling him. “Have you guys done shots yet?”

Steve’s eyes flicked down to her hand only for a moment and he could feel every press of her hand into his bicep. He looked back up at her and told her, “I can’t get drunk, Y/N.”

“Oh, right,” she said looking immediately pitying of him. She rubbed his arm excessively in her drunk state and he stiffened, his jaw clicking. “I’m sorry. I forgot!” She laughed, noticing how stiff he was and poked him in the chest. “You need to loosen up, Steve.”

“I’ll try,” he said forcing a smile.

“You too, Bucky,” she commented eyeing his stoic expression. She touched the side of his face and he inhaled sharply. She giggled at the response and said, “Maybe you’ll feel better after a drink? You can get drunk right?”

Before he could respond, her attention was drawn elsewhere by Wanda. As soon as she was gone, Steve let out a frustrated sigh and Bucky mirrored his state.

“She’s not taking care of herself,” Bucky murmured, shaking his head. “Anyone could take her home. Anyone!”

“Yeah, well, we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” Steve returned firmly. Bucky frowned and Steve rolled his eyes, “You can have some drinks. I’ll just be the sober eyes.”

“Thanks for that leeway, but this has gone on long enough hasn’t it?” Bucky asked.

“It has,” Steve exhaled heavily. Y/N was holding Clint’s hand as they danced their way down the staircase from the VIP section, away from where him and Bucky were standing.

Steve was close to her all night, especially on the dance floor. At one point, he grabbed a female Alpha who had started grinding on Y/N and yanked her away. The other Alpha had started to get buck until she realized who exactly she was trying to fight. He was not a hard man to mistake, not with all the press conferences and his mere presence on top of that. She gritted her teeth before leaving seeing his icy stare, taking the hint. Y/N was oblivious, dancing to the techno music, hands in the air still with Clint and Wanda.

Y/N fanned herself and her hands came to the hem of her shirt. Steve’s eyes almost bugged out of his head as she began to tear it off. Steve was at her side immediately, grabbing the shirt before she could remove it completely, yanking it back down.

She focused in on him, confused, and he demanded inches from her face, “What are you doing?”

“It’s hot,” she yelled at him over the music, as if that was a reasonable explanation for her behavior. He imagined all the eyes on her now, his blood pumping in his ears.

Steve shook his head and grasped her arm, pulling her through the crowd.

“Steve!” he heard Clint call from behind him, but it went ignored.

Bucky knew when Steve walked by with Y/N it was time. He got up, following Steve’s movement away from the VIP section towards a more isolated part of the club. Y/N was asking Steve where he was taking her before Bucky snuck up and administered the shot before Y/N could even react to his presence.

She began to ask, “What the hell…” but her eyes were already drooping.

Steve caught her before her knees gave out from beneath her. She was conscious but she was far past coherent. She groaned in his arms and he picked her up, hushing her.

“Wish I could have gotten even two drinks in before that,” Bucky said, eyes searching the club. He looked towards the hall and said, “Should try to take her out a back way or…?”

“She was reckless,” Steve grumbled in his ear as she slumped into his side. “Let’s take her home. She shouldn’t remember any of this. But no, let’s take her back by so everyone can see how ‘drunk’ she is.”

“Right, good idea,” Bucky agreed.

<><><>

Tony walked in, seeing Y/N at the break room table already, at 7:00am. But, her head was resting on her forearms, a large cup of coffee next to her. He looked over his shoulder, seeing people were walking by in the hallway. Slowly, he closed the door, the handle clicking into place when it was fully closed. She did not stir, and he cocked his head. She must really be out.

He tapped her shoulder and she grumbled, sitting back uncomfortably. She was squinting at him and recognized him, before rubbing at her eyes.

“You alright?” he asked, feigning concern.

“Yeah, just… not feeling great,” she told him.

Hungover. Every clue of it clear as day to everyone else. But Tony was not everyone else. He knew this was not a withdrawal from alcohol but another drug entirely. Her body was correcting itself from that nasty medication, right at the height of her heat.

“You should be drinking water instead of coffee,” Tony told her, his Alpha peaking in his tone.

It was an easy way to worm himself in. He was not supposed to do this – but they had also not been supposed to administer that drug without her consent –, it was against protocol. But he just had to know. He had to see if she would respond.

Simultaneously to his surprise and not, she made eye contact with him. He saw… doe eyes. She quickly averted her gaze and looked at her cup.

“You’re right,” she told him.

Tony watched her with arousal as she got up and tossed the coffee in the sink. She went towards the fridge, but Tony was already there, opening it up to grab a water bottle for her.

“Let me,” he told her, and she stopped, looking at him patiently as he held it out to her.

She took it from him, taking a drink. “Thanks. I… I really don’t feel great.”

Tony pointed at her and said, “You probably need oxygen. And a lot of water.”

“Oxygen?”

“Clears a hangover pretty quickly.”

“Oh, I’m not—” she began to stammer, and he could not help his lip twitching in amusement at her looking embarrassed.

Tony chuckled, “It’s alright. The party was last night. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Y/N looked unsure if she should relax or not for a few moments before she relented, nodding. “Yeah, what idiot decided tequila shots was the way to start off the night?”

“Probably the same idiot who planned it to be on a Thursday.”

“Thirsty Thursday,” she mumbled, taking another drink.

“Thirsty Thursday,” Tony agreed lightly. “Eat something too. Something healthy. Fruit, maybe.” She grumbled in response but nodded as she sat back down at the table. She swiped an apple from the center of the table and took a large bite. Tony watched her for a few more seconds, anticipation nipping at his heels before he parted with, “Feel better.”

He needed to tell Bucky and Steve she should be ready by tonight if she was already reacting to him like that.

<><><>

Y/N was the last one in her office, the other two had gone home already. She looked up at Tony walking into the office, carrying a bag. Her stomach growled at the smell coming from the bag, her eyes falling to it. Tony only stalled for a moment, the smell of her coming to him. She was tumbling fast, she looked flushed.

Tony approached her desk, a friendly glint in his eye. “Ah, you are still here. Here, we ordered some food. I always go for greasy at some point after drinking and I’m sure it’ll help.” She looked past him to where Bucky and Steve were in the hallway.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Y/N told him timidly.

Tony loved the sight: she was tying to avoid direct eye contact, speaking in soft tones.

“Just thought we’d be nice.”

“Thank you.” She would not grab it from him. “Today has been… I don’t know. I can’t focus. I need to finish this before I leave. I just… I don’t feel great,” she said her voice getting smaller as her eyes were dragged back to her computer screen.

Tony ordered, “Press save and close the laptop. Eat.” He placed the bag on her desk. “It’ll help.”

He turned to leave, and she blurted, “Where are you going?”

Tony came to a stop, his gaze locked with Steve and Bucky, his back to her. To them, he gave them a sly, knowing smile that only lasted a few seconds before he turned back to her.

“I mean, you don’t have to leave and go eat somewhere else if you already have your food too. You don’t want it to get cold. I promise I’m not throwing up or anything. I just feel off. Like a headache… a little hot.”

She wanted them to stay, that was obvious. She needed something from them and even if she could not figure out what it was just yet, her body was telling her they were needed.

“Sure,” Tony chirped. “If it won’t bother you.”

She shook her head and he started walking back towards the desk beside hers. His suit jacket came off, and he swung it around the back of the chair. Steve and Bucky had come into the room as well, purposely leaving the door open. Bucky sat across from Y/N, his eyes following her movements as she opened the bag Tony had placed in front of her. He watched the way her hands shook ever so slightly, her tongue running across her bottom lip as she opened the container of food.

Y/N made a satisfied sound as she tasted it. “God, thank you. This is delicious. I needed it. I feel… shaky.”

The three of them around her was making it difficult for her to focus though. She kept stealing glances at them, being met with blatant stares back as they slowly ate. Steve adjusted, trying to hide his length that was starting to grow at her being so damn close and smelling so damn good.

Tony spilled some on the desk and said, “Shit!”

Before she could offer he was leaning over her, reaching across the grab a kleenex from the other side of her desk. He heard her inhale and he forced himself to not react, sitting back down, dabbing at the food he had spilled. His jaw was clenched; he should not have done that because now he was working himself up quickly.

The three of them noticed her chewing slowed to a stop and her eyes moved between the three of them. Something was starting to click… the tense silence in the room getting under her skin. The off feeling no doubt growing ever stronger.

Swallowing, she cleared her throat. Her voice was higher pitched than normal, “Do you guys want a cookie? To go with it for after, I mean? I… there’s some over here.”

She pushed her chair back quickly and moved away from her desk. Along the wall, she fumbled with the drawers, looking for these mysterious cookies. She was getting squirrelly, nervous, like she wanted some air. They could all sense it and they wanted to get ahead of her stressing out while they could. All three were out of their seats: Bucky strode across the room away from her, closing the door while Tony and Steve came closer towards her.

Y/N turned around startled at them all having moved so quickly, holding a handful of fortune cookies. Bucky leaned against the doorframe, staring directly back at her. She gave a small laugh, “Are people still working out there? Were we being too loud, do you think?”

Tony and Steve said nothing and her smile faltered, a frown growing. “Can…Can I just… get by,” she said trying to skirt around them but each time, one of them blocked her way. She tried to brush it off, holding the cookie out. “Do you just want it now?”

She asked, so innocently. Sweetly. Steve shuddered at it. She could not hide her true nature even in her tone. And the phrasing, the three of them smirked.

Bucky was still by the door, leaning against the frame. He popped a chocolate in his mouth, watching the scene unfold.

“Well, I would really like to get eat—” She said, trying again to break through their rank and being unsuccessful. She frowned visibly now, worry lines showing up on her face. She chuckled nervously, “Did I do something wrong?”

Steve noticed the spiral coming. He could hear the increase in her heartrate. She knew she was surrounded by Alphas and was growing uncomfortable. Especially since she was alone, it was late, and they were encroaching. His hand came up to slap over her mouth and she yelled frightened, the sound muffled. He pulled her away from the counter, dragging her back towards the third desk. Tony was ready, grabbing her arms and twisting them behind her back, slipping the retractable cuffs around her wrists. The cookies tumbled to the floor and he paid them no mind, stepping on them as he passed her to Steve solely. Her arms were bound at the small of her back and she fell face first against the table. All three of them were growing hard at the sight.

As soon as Steve removed his hand she began to scream, and he clamped back down.

“Omega,” Steve purred in her ear and she whimpered behind his hand. He laced his tone, his Alpha rumbling, “You’re going to be quiet aren’t you?” She said nothing, her chest just rapidly moving up and down. “Omega… are you gonna be quiet? Nod for me if you are gonna be good.” She nodded frantically against his hand and he slowly removed it.

Tearfully, she said, “Can you let me go?”

“Oh, no. No, we can’t, beautiful,” Steve said, his finger running down her exposed neck, causing her to squirm. He pulled away, turning his attention to Tony.

“But… I… I didn’t do anything wrong,” she tried to plead, looking at Bucky across the desk to where he was standing at the door. “I followed all the rules. I—” Tony’s hands lifted up underneath her dress and she let out a choked noise, craning her neck to look back at him. “Alpha, please!”

Tony audibly groaned at her slipping up and giving in to calling him by his title. He yanked her leggings and underwear down to her ankles. He freed himself from his slacks and his fingers pressed at her pussy. She buried her face in the desk, trying to squeeze her legs together.

“Oh, come now. None of that,” Tony ordered, and she loosened. His fingers pressed in, stroking her slowly. She was already wet, probably had been for the better part of the day. It is why the three of them had stayed away, they could have lost control before now and ruined it all otherwise.

“You’re not being punished, Omega,” he told her. “Rewarded actually…” She whimpered and he cooed as he continued stroking her gently, “Oh, sweetpea… beautiful Omega. You’re going to be just fine. You’re in the perfect hands. You feel sick for a reason and we are going to help you.”

The more he spoke, the more he watched her body relax against his hand and his tone. The smell of her was driving him insane – he could only imagine Steve and Bucky not being able to touch her at all. He should not stall for long, wouldn’t want to start a fight.

“You’re going to feel so much better,” Tony promised as she tried to push back on his fingers, and he bit his lip at the sight. His fingers were gone, and she let out a disappointed noise. Tony rubbed his cock up and down her ass, slowly. “God, this is gonna feel so fucking good.”

Tony’s head pressed in and she gasped, adjusting to his width. He gave a strangled laugh, relishing in how tight her walls were. She was squirming beneath him and he gave her a rapt smack on the ass.

“I know you haven’t had an Alpha cock before but relax, Omega,” Tony ordered gruffly.

“It’s too much,” she said pitifully.

“You’ll adjust. You’ll adjust,” Tony moaned, pressing in further. “You’ll be able to take all of me. All of us. It’s what you were built for.”

Bucky was becoming shifty, chewing on his thumb nail, his eyes boring into Y/N. He had stepped away from the door, coming closer to where she was. His dick was outlined in his jeans but he had refrained from releasing himself just yet. Steve on the other hand had taken his cock out and was stroking himself, needing some type of contact. Both of their eyes were blown wide.

“Oh. Tony,” Bucky said, aroused. “You would love this sight.”

Y/N’s eyes were glazed over as Tony thrusts grew deeper and quicker. Looking the perfect example of a subservient Omega, impaled on an Alpha’s cock.

“I love the feeling,” Tony choked back, holding tight to her wrists to drive himself deeper.

Soon, they came tumbling down. Tony came with loud grunts, emptying inside of her and he left a claim mark on her shoulder. Tony only took a moment to kiss at her neck, whispering something sweet into her ear before he backed off. His pants were buttoned back up and he collapsed in one of the chairs, his eyes falling on her.

Steve wasted no time coming behind her and entering her with ease. She whimpered at the intrusion, still so sensitive. His thrusts were unbridled, worked up into a frenzy. Y/N’s hips bounced off the desk.

“Alpha,” she whined.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Steve panted, his fingers digging into the skin at her hips. “You feel so goddamn good, Omega. You’re doing so well. So, so well. Everything I dreamed.”

The room was filled with skin slapping skin and the aroused moans leaving Y/N.

“Alpha,” she whined again, and Steve groaned, knowing she was getting close. He could feel her clenching around him.

And when she did, shaking and whimpering, Steve thrusted quickly as she tightened. He finished with a shout unable to help himself, coating her walls. He left another distinct claim bite at the base of her neck. His fingers traced it gently before he noticed Bucky standing there.

“You know, for an Alpha. Buck, you sure as hell are patient,” Steve joked.

Bucky gave a curt smirk before shoving Steve out of the way. Steve held his hands up in surrender, turning away and letting Bucky have his way with her. Y/N was doing so well still, behaving and letting Bucky rut her into the desk without pushback. Bucky had been right, Tony thought to himself. He loved that look in her eyes. She was lost to her arousal.

“P-p-please, alpha,” she begged moments before she cried out again.

Bucky grunted loudly, his thrusts becoming more erratic, chasing his high. He shook as he emptied himself and went to the opposite shoulder to leave another claim mark. She was exhausted, breathing heavily having not one but three Alphas imprinting themselves on her and using her.

The door opened and all three of them froze, Bucky still buried in Y/N, his large hands at her hips.

Clint was standing there, his mouth fallen open in disbelief at the scene. There were a few seconds of suspended shock before he asked them disgusted, “You couldn’t even lock it?”

“Didn’t think about it,” Tony admitted.

“You? You didn’t think? That’s rich,” Clint spat back at him. He noticed Y/N was handcuffed and realization dawned on him. He glared daggers at the three of them and snapped, “You’re going to get sidelined for this!”

“No, I don’t think so. More like chewed out… I’ve been chewed out before,” Steve said. Impatiently he added, “Now, will you close the damn door?”

His request went ignored by Clint, who pressed on furiously, “No, seriously. You guys know that right? Compromising an agent like this! Especially one they’re trying to keep up because they’re in such big demand to even out the ranks! She’s only going to respond to your Alpha commands now! That compromises her!”

“And why is anyone complaining about that? She should be answering to her superiors,” Tony remarked, watching her intently. She was so lost, trying to figure out what was going on. She had no purpose without feeling a cock being driven into her when she was this worked up into her heat. Tony almost felt bad for her…

“Barton, are you going to let Barnes pull out so we can untie her or what? She’s got to be getting sore by now. Wouldn’t want to hurt our ‘delicate flower’.” Clint stood his ground and Tony lost his humor, snapping, “Get the fuck out, Barton. It’s already been done. Now. Before I lose my goddamn temper.”

Clint’s jaw was clenched as he turned away from the three Alphas, slamming the door behind him so loudly it shook the wall.

“Speaking of that,” Bucky said, clearing his throat. He leaned in, catching her attention. “Darling… do you want Alpha to finish inside you?” She nodded fervently and Bucky grunted in response, rutting against her backside even as he pulled away from her. He pulled her up and she stood on shaky legs. In her ear, he asked, “Do you want to always be finished inside of?” She nodded again, biting her bottom lip. “Hmm… you want to please us? That’s what I thought. So. How about after you take in that feeling of that warm seed inside you, you go up to the director and tell her you want to resign? Tell her you wanna be a good little housewife for us? How does that sound?”

“Okay,” she agreed.

Steve’s fingers pressed her cheeks in, pressing her lips out and he smiled. “You wanna be an asset to the team in your best way. Such a team player.” He shot Tony a look at the end of the desk, an aroused gleam in his eye. “I’m sure we can get you a proper collar.”

“I’ve already got it built. I’ve been waiting for her to learn her place.” Tony then added, “But she can’t live with me. Pepper will kill me.”

“I’ve got it,” Steve said.

Steve rubbed her stomach and said, “Regardless, she’s gonna be serving her real purpose soon.”

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21

#abo marvel #steve rogers x reader #tony stark x reader #bucky barnes x reader #alpha steve rogers #alpha tony stark #alpha bucky barnes #my shit #dark smut

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writingonsaturn · 3 years

Text

Better Unsaid

a/n okay this has been all over the place!! it was originally going to be a blurb and darker and closer to smutty (so keep your eyes out for that??? lol), but then I made it softer and the concept got away from me and it got soooo much longer than expected lmao and i still dont love where it ended so maybe part 2?? i have the idea i just dont know lol

summary: Reader is a princess and Anakin has been her guard during the most public season for the past two years (not the most logical thing but just go with it lol, it gets explained better in the fic) and after a near death experience the two are conveniently forced into a....

ONE BED TROPE ONE BED TROPE *cough cough* ONE BED TROPE WITH ONE PERSON HAVING TO WAKE UP THE OTHER BC THEYRE HAVING A NIGHTMARE,, :)))))))

His smugness is the only thing about him I can consider ‘ugly’. And because I am so desperate to not have feeling for Anakin, the Jedi who has been assigned to protect me through coronation season (which lasts for most of winter), for the last two coronation seasons, I hold onto my distaste for that side of him. Which is why I suppress my laugh as he waits for my reaction with that confident smile.

“Come on, that was funny.”

Rolling my eyes, I let myself sit on my bed. I can’t tell if he’s actually funny or if my evening has been so boring that his sense of humor has started to become appealing to me due to comparison. In short, the suitor I was forced to spend an entire evening with lacked personality so much I’m starting to find Anakin funny.

“You’re much more entertaining than this evening’s suitor.”

Anakin’s expression shifts slightly, his assured grin dropping slightly. “Another miss?”

“You have no idea.” I relax slightly, taking a moment to be glad that I completed my father’s request and now I can just enjoy the time I have with Anakin. “I know my father’s desperate to make sure my marriage is useful for our people and that he worries about this selection process because he always thought my mother would be here to help, but sometimes I wish he wouldn’t rush it so much. It feels like all he wants me for is to marry me off in exchange of finance or weaponry or something diplomatic.”

“You’re more than that.” His response is so soft I think I might have missed it if I needed it less. I curse myself for feeling so validated by him. His words shouldn’t mean anything to me. After all, he could easily just be saying that because agreeing with my father will just make me more unpleasant to be around.

I smile politely while avoiding his eyes. I keep my hands on either side of me, fighting the urge to fidget. “Thank you, Anakin.” My words sound weak in my own ears, so I’m sure he notices my shift in mood. “I’m tired today, I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Normally, I’d be able to shrug off these kinds of things, but the beginning of Coronation Season makes me irritable. The anniversary of my mother’s death hits me harder each year.

“Y/n.” My name comes out so velvety I can’t find it in myself to interrupt him. “You are more than someone meant to be used as some kind of royal currency, and I mean that as more than just a...friend.”

I let his last word linger. We’ve tried so many titles that never seem to fit right. He’s the chosen one, one of the most powerful Jedi to exist, and the Jedi assigned to protect me each Coronation Season because that’s when my mother was assassinated. He’s my guard, but we’ve spent too many nights laughing together and talking about everything and anything. And I guess now he’s my friend, even though sometimes when he looks at me in a certain way or sits too close to me or reaches for my hand to guide me somewhere I can’t breathe right.

“Anakin, you know I love when you’re here, even though sometimes you drive me insane. And I appreciate your kindness, but your words can’t change the truth. That’s how my father sees me and he’s not exactly wrong. I’m not a son, I haven’t been raised to lead an army or lead much, and--”

“I’ve seen you in meeting after meeting, convention after convention. I’ve witnessed the way you handle real problems and I know how you care about your people. You’d make a great leader, you don’t need a husband to be valuable.”

My chest swells, feelings I never let myself think about mixing with thoughts of Anakin that I’ve spent so long trying to avoid. “That settles it, you’re my favorite person.”

He grins, the look warm enough to melt the odd lump in my throat. I fight down a smile as he steps forward. “And I wasn’t before?”

“I take it back--your head’s big enough without the additional praise.”

Rolling my eyes, I lean back slightly in order to recreate the distance he so easily destroyed. “And I thought you had finally warmed up to me, princess.”

The use of my title makes me skeptical. The last time Anakin used it was when he was trying to ease me so that I’d walk around the palace garden so he had an excuse to do the same. It was beyond late and I was half asleep, but he had os much energy he was desperate and just needed to do one more thing. I felt bad that his schedule revolved so heavily around mine (and when he softens his eyes and says please, I’m left incapable of saying the word ‘no’) so I agreed.

“What do you want?”

Anakin dramatically clutches a hand over his heart. He throws his head back slightly as if he’s just taken a fatal blow. “When did you turn so cynical? I’ve been back for three days and I’m starting to believe you’re a different person now.”

Yeah...he’s definitely getting ready to ask for something that’s more trouble than it’s worth. Then again, everything with him seems to be worth it in some capacity. Even if it’s just that one smile he gets when he’s truly content and doesn’t think anyone’s looking.

“Mhm,” I mumble, still fighting a grin, “so you’re not going to ask me anything?”

His lips part slightly as he exhales. I watch the way his eyes narrow at my victorious expression. “I don’t have anything to ask of you, but I do have a small request. A request so small you won’t have to do anything but say yes.”

Suspicious. Too easy. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You just said I was your favorite person. Remember that.”

I’m too tired for his coyness. I’d rather him make his ridiculous request now so that I can be in bed within the hour. Though I can’t pretend I don’t normally feel better after letting him drag me along on whatever ‘adventure’ he just needed to complete while also not letting me out of his sight. I used to tell him that I wouldn’t tell anyone if I wasn’t under supervision for an hour or two a day, but he dismissed the idea immediately. That’s been the cornerstone of everything.

“What is it?”

He sighs once, tilting his head slightly. The way his eyes soften tells me he’s already won at least half the battle. “They still haven’t caught the attempted--” Anakin pauses, something behind his eyes darkening. I know what he’s remembering. Last night, an assassin had gotten closer than they ever had. I had almost been shot in the garden, Anakin had barely pushed me to the ground in time. A fact he’s been beating himself up for since, especially considering that no one has been able to find my attempted killer yet. “They were so close to you. They were within palace limits and they disappeared like they never existed. Who’s to say they don’t work here and are waiting for the next moment you’re exposed? Who’s to say they aren’t here tonight, waiting for me to retire for the night?”

I didn’t realize how my near death experience had been so personal to him. He, like everyone else, was beyond frantic after it happened. But my father put an end to verbal worry before it could truly begin. He said the best thing we could do was act like everything was fine as the assailant was searched for. Anakin hadn’t been particularly cheery after my father instructed the guards to focus their search on known enemies instead of prioritizing venting the staff closest to me. I comforted him as best as I could, but he didn’t feel like speaking about it and I had to worry about the suitor meeting my father wouldn’t let me cancel.

“Anakin, you’re right next door to me.” I have to fight the urge to reach for him. “I was fine because of you, and I will be fine because of you.”

He sighs once, his expression not easing. “And if the person is silent? The attacker could easily work in the palace, but no one wanted to direct the search inwards.” His words are more strained than I’ve ever heard them be. “I think it’d be smart for me to stay in here. I know you’ve refused having a guard stay in your room or outside your door, but...” Anakin sighs. “Your safety would be more assured.”

Him staying in my room? The only line I’ve ever been allowed to draw, and I’m actually considering letting that go. If he seemed even slightly less sad, I wouldn’t even consider it. It’s not a good idea. I’m already too attached to him. “Anakin--”

“I’d feel more assured.”

Damn him. Stupid, extremely sweet Anakin who makes saying no to him impossible. I stretch my arm forward, letting my hand squeezes his forearm gently. “There’s no reason to not feel assured.” He doesn’t ease, the cloudiness behind his eyes remains stubborn. “You’re still worried.” No reaction, the haze that’s taken him isn’t letting go. “Fine--but tell no one or my father is going to take to posting guards at my door every night.”

...I guess there are worse ways to spend a night. Which is kind of a problem since I’m trying to...enjoy Anakin less. Ugh, I even sound dumb in my head. “I promise, princess.”

Ugh, he’s adorable. “You’re intolerable.” I stand from he foot of my bed and pull back the covers on my bed. He doesn’t reply, something dark still playing for him. I watch him move to face the door. Wait--is he doing what I think he’s doing? “No, you’re not going to stand there all night. You need sleep.” He has the audacity to give me an annoyed look. “I already didn’t want to do this so now you have to listen to my conditions.”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips pressing together oddly. He’s trying to gauge something from my expression, perhaps he’s looking for buttons to press to get his way. I guess I look as stubborn as I feel because instead of arguing he just sits on the floor. What? I watch him cautiously, trying to figure out if this is some weird argument trick.

“What are you doing?”

“What you asked.”

And just like that I’ve put myself in a position that I will no doubt regret terribly the second common sense returns to me. There’s no way to deny that Anakin and I are closer than we probably should be. We’ve felt like friends first since the day we first met. I can’t think of any reason to not offer to let him sleep in my bed except those stupid budding feelings I refuse to label.

It’s not like I actually like him. I can’t--I’m going to be married to some nobleman and he’s prohibited from ever forming attachments. I’m not even sure if we’re allowed to be friends. Having actual feelings for him would be so, so pointless. It would just lead to heartache and the ruining of the one genuine relationship I have. I’m just a tiny bit confused right now because he’s objectively really attractive and he’s always there for me. Always there to make a joke after a particularly rough meeting. Always there to offer me a supportive smile. Always there to humble me when I teeter on acting like my father.

Anyone’s heart would flutter at that, so it doesn’t mean anything. And if it does, I need to squash any budding feelings now before I mess things up. Which is why I should keep him at arm’s length until I get it together. But is that fair to him? And what if doing that is making things worse? What if it’s just reinforcing the idea of having feelings?

This is ridiculous. I’m going to get over this if it kills me. It’s just a bed and it’s only sleeping. I’m meant to be able to lead an entire union and I can’t sleep next to someone and act normal?” “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

The second the words leave my mouth I regret it all. What’s wrong with me? Did I seriously think I’d be okay?

I hear his soft exhale, “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse places than on your marble floor.”

His voice sounds so weighted I can’t help but feel bad for not noticing that he’s still bothered. Whether he’s upset about his near miss or the fact that my father didn’t take his advice, I don’t know. But something’s wrong. The easy thing to do would be to just let him sleep it off. The smart thing to do would be to leave him alone until tomorrow.

I think of all the times that I’ve been upset and Anakin had refused to let me go to sleep angry or sad or overwhelmed. “I know, but it’s really not a big deal. It’s not like we don’t know each other. I mean, last Coronation Season you buttoned me into more gowns than my handmaid. And I owe you for saving me from one of the worst suitors I’ve ever had.”

“I’m starting to think we need to develop some kind of signal.”

The tiny bit of lightness that’s returned to his voice makes all of my internal struggle feel worth it. “You always seem to know.”

“That’s because when you’re reaching your limit, that one line appears between your eyebrows.”

I didn’t realize I had such a tell. I try to remember the way that the suitor drawled on and on about how amazing he was and how he couldn’t wait for the day he had a bride to bear his children and plan (tedious) social events. My hand moves to my forehead, trying to feel the crease Anakin mentioned. Can everyone tell when I’m growing tired? Am I that transparent?

Anakin’s slight laugh steals my attention. He’s facing me again, his elbow holding his head up on the foot of my bed. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t--I don’t think i get a crease between my eyebrows when I’m irritated.”

I hear him stand. I don’t realize he’s approaching me until he’s so close I could touch him without even needing. to stretch. “No, when you’re irritated you raise your eyebrows slightly, because that’s when you’re at your most sarcastic.”

“Really?”

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “Just like that.” I force myself to keep my expression blank. “When you’re reaching your limit, your eyebrows crease here.” His finger taps the space between my brows so gently I almost don’t realize what he’s doing. “And when you’re trying not to laugh--which is often, because you refuse to admit that I’m funny--you press your lips together in a way that forms a dimple here.” The knuckle of his pointer finger brushes against the bottom of my cheek.

I bite my tongue to fight the warmth spreading across my face. “I didn’t realize i was so transparent.”

“I can’t always tell what you’re thinking.”

“I’ll take it.” Maybe if I was less tired, I’d argue a little more. “You know you’re not that difficult to read either.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I can tell when you’re just being stubborn for the sake of it. I can see it in your eyes and you’re doing it right now.”

His expression harshens slightly before softening. “Y/n--”

“I’m not wrong.”

He sighs once, stepping back. I watch him pace around my bed before taking a seat on the edge of my other side of the bed. “Are you happy now?”

“Happy that I won? Absolutely.”

Anakin halfheartedly glares at me. “Careful, add a crown and a robe that trails down a throne and I’d feel like I was speaking to your father.”

“Careful, another side comment like that and I’ll ‘accidentally’ kick you off the bed in the middle of the night.”

“Not if I kick you off the bed first.”

I trace a thoughtless pattern on the fabric of my bedsheets. “What are you? Twelve?”

“I’m older than you.”

“Barely.” I continue the thoughtless pattern tracing as I fight the sleep from my eyes. “Your comebacks are usually more creative than that.”

He exhales, relaxing slightly as he rests his back against a pillow. “I’m tired, like you claimed to be.” His eyes flutter slightly, a bit of his exhaustion showing. “Go to sleep.”

I should. I’m too old to think I can put off a tomorrow I don’t want by just staying up. This is stupid. I’m too old to think I can put off the anniversary of my mother’s death by going to bed. She had been taken from us on castle grounds, killed by a revolutionist who viewed my mother as a class traitor. I still remember the way she slumped to the ground, her blood staining the snow beneath her. I remember the way the guards were so busy chasing her killer no one thought to keep me away from the body.

“Y/n?”

I scratch the back of my arm in hopes of banishing my thoughts. “Yes?”

“You’re being quiet.”

“You said to go to sleep, that tends to be a quiet thing.”

I can feel his eyes on me. “Since when do you listen to me?” Not trusting myself to actually reply, I only offer him a hum of acknowledgement. “I know you’re not half asleep.”

Folding my hands on my lap, I avoid his gaze. “It’s tomorrow.”

I don’t know why I trust him to understand my vague response, but I do. His silence stretches over us like a thin blanket on a cold night. Maybe he doesn’t understand what I’m implying. I can always correct him tomorrow, when my eyelids are no longer as heavy as my heart. The more seconds that pass in total silence, the more I think that maybe he’s fallen asleep.

I wouldn’t be surprised, Anakin has seemed tired recently, like some additional weight he won’t share with anyone has been thrust onto his shoulders. A small part of me rolls in guilt. I need to be a better friend, just because I’m suddenly a little too aware of him doesn’t mean I can shrug him off and ignore him.

My hand almost flinches away from the feeling of something surprisingly warm touching my pinky. When I realize that it’s just Anakin and that the contact was probably accidental, I force myself to ease. It’s not like we’ve never touched before, I don’t understand why I’m making it weird. Sitting in my bed in the dark doesn’t change anything. His hand turns slightly, pressing into mine a little more assuredly. Biting my tongue, I turn my hand slightly, exposing my palm. And just like that, our fingers intertwine.

“She would have been proud of you.” His voice comes out so low I barely register the words.

The words shouldn’t mean much to me--he never knew my mother and has no way to know what she wanted me to be.--and yet I find comfort in them. I smile, turning my head towards him. “You didn’t even know her.”

He rolls his eyes slightly, relaxing further before squeezing my hand once. “Who wouldn’t be proud of you? You’re kind and smart and decent to be around when you’re not telling me what to do.”

My heart swells in my chest so much I’m surprised it doesn’t burst. Could he be cuter? “Yeah...now I’m sure you’re my favorite person.”

“Now you’re sure?”

The smugness in his voice has me rolling my eyes. “Don’t make me regret saying that.”

“Maybe in the morning,” he says easily, “now go to sleep. There’s nothing worse than escorting you from meeting to meeting while you’re tired.”

“I’m not that bad.” Even in this darkness, I can make out the way he raises an eyebrow. “Shut up--I’m going to sleep, but not because of you.”

He lets out a slight huff. “You’re impossible.”

The desire to respond to his comment is not enough for me to win the fight against the weight of my eyelids. The moment my eyes shut, I feel powerless to anything that isn’t sleep. I let myself fall into a weightless sleep, my only tether being the Anakin’s fingers around mine.

A distant noise yanks me from my sleep. I’m too drowsy to do anything but register the sound. I hear another similar...whine? cry? I can’t tell and I’m too asleep to figure it out. I almost fall asleep again, but a third distressed sound keeps me from it. I wipe my eyes lazily with the back of my hand as I try to sit up.

Squinting, I make out a figure on my bed. It takes me a moment to remember Anakin and how I fell asleep. Our hands are still together and no light is peering through my window so it can’t be that long since I fell asleep. Another disgruntled sound carries itself throughout the room. I shift slightly, leaning over Anakin cautiously.

Golden brown curls are beginning to stick to his forehead and his eyebrows are drawn together sharply. He’s having a nightmare. I shift even further forward before cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder before squeezing him gently.

“Anakin,” I whisper, “it’s not--it’s not real.” His eyebrows draw together even more harshly. I shake him a little more stubbornly. “Anakin, wake up--you’re having a ni--”

My forearm is grabbed so suddenly I barely register it before I feel my back shoved into my mattress. I blink twice. His dark eyes are frantic and the look on his face is far from the gentle, easygoing expression I’m used to. He’s breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling from above me. I swallow a slight panic and something I don’t understand as I try to keep my eyes on his face and my thoughts away from how close he is. Anakin pries his fingers from my forearm one by one until only his palm is touching me.

“Y/n, I--”

“It’s okay.” Honestly, I’m more worried about his uneven breathing than the way he grabbed me. I can’t imagine everything he’s been through or how justified his nightmares are. Anakin moves his hand away from me. I don’t sit up until he’s off of me and sitting with his back against my headboard. “It’s okay--I just--you were having a nightmare and I thought I should wake you.” He doesn’t react. I turn my body further, keeping my back straight. Anakin doesn’t move, and the longer he stays still, the more I feel like I should say something else. “Do you want talk about it? Or do--do you want to talk about something else? Or go to sleep? Or get some water? Or--” The far off look behind his eyes silences me. I scoot forward slightly. “You’re okay, Anakin, I promise.”

His head turns at that, his eyes searching mine for something I don’t understand. “I thought...” He cuts himself off by swallowing once.

I shift a little more, trying to find anything normal in his expression. “Thought what?”

Anakin’s hand is on my arm so quickly I don’t even register his movement. I let his fingers press into my skin. He’s holding onto me like I’m a figment of a dream and he’s beginning to wake up. “I thought I’d failed.” He exhales, the sound heavy. “Failed you and that you’d--I thought I had lost you.”

A lump rises in my throat, thick and unmoving. Cautiously, I place my hand over the one still gripping my shoulder like a lifeline. “You didn’t. Nothing happened, it was just a dream.”

His gaze falls to the ground before he repeats the last of my words. “Just a dream.” There’s a hollowness to his voice I don’t understand.

I exhale, carefully running my thumb over his knuckles. “Yes.” He doesn’t say anything but his expression hardens again. I let us sit there like that for a long minute. “I promise.”

“You can’t promise things like that.”

I sigh, unsure of where to go from here. “Bad dreams are only bad dreams.” He doesn’t reply. “I think you should try to get some more sleep.”

Anakin is unresponsive. I shift back, but before I can transition from almost being on top of him to just sitting next to him, he pulls on my arm to keep in place. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“You almost died today, y/n. I was right there and if I had been a second later--”

“But you weren’t.” He doesn’t ease. “You were there and I was fine. Don’t torment yourself over what could have been. You’ll drive yourself crazy.”

“If anything ever happened to y--”

“It’s not going to,” I whisper, ignoring the way his hold on my arm tightens even further, “Especially this time a year when I have a pretty good gau--”

He tilts his head slightly, eyebrows drawing together and a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Pretty good? Really?”

“Someone needs to watch your ego, chosen one.” This time when he tries for a smile, the look has some strength behind it. Relief pools in my stomach. “Now get some sleep, tomorrow’s a busy day and when you’re sleepy you’re beyond irritable.”

Anakin lets me pull away enough to lay down, but he doesn’t follow. Not for a long second. When he does, his movements are impossibly rigid. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as carefully as I can manage.

“Y/n?”

I regret turning my head immediately. I didn’t realize how close he was. It would take no effort from me to make our lips meet. Wait--why am I thinking of that? I’m not allowed to think of stuff like that...especially not about him.

“Yes?”

He lets out a breath before moving his hand. I don’t understand his hesitation until I feel his hand cupping my cheek gently. “What if next time I’m not enough? What if next time I lose you because I’m not strong enough?”

I never thought my death would be such a personal thing to him. Sure, I knew that we had some kind of bond, some kind of friendship, and that my death would bring sadness. But I never imagined I’d matter enough to him that thoughts of my death would be frightening enough to slip into his subconscious and become a thing of nightmares.

“You are enough. Nothing is going to happen to me and if it does it’s not going to be because of you.” Anakin’s lips press together in a way that implies serious uncertainty. His thumb brushes across my cheek so unexpectedly I almost ask him what he’s doing. The intensity behind his eyes is enough to burn me. “Was your dream really that bad?”

He lets out an uncertain breath as his eyebrows draw together. I don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. “It’s more than the dream. I...y/n, princess,” he tacts on, a hint of humor returning to him, “you’re more than a mission to me.”

The admission is so soft I can’t help but smile. “I know, Anakin, we’re--”

“You’re more than a friend to me.” I don’t know if my blood freezes in my veins or if my lungs don’t contract when they should or if my heart literally skips a beat, but I know something in me completely stops at his words. “I--”

“Don’t say it.” I don’t know how I managed to cut him off so sharply and I’m a little disappointed when I do, but it’s the right thing to do. Thought of the code that’s so important to him have clouded half the immense shock and joy swelling in my chest. “What you’re trying to say...I um, I want to say the same.” I try to drop my gaze but he tilts my head up slightly with his hand. “But we shouldn’t, you know that.”

"You want to us to pretend that nothing’s different? You want me to escort you from meetings with one suitor to the next every Coronation Season until you’re married off?”

“No, I’m not saying that. The point is that I’m not saying anything.” His eyebrows draw together in uncertainty. “Isn’t it enough for now, for both of us to just know? If we say it...that could mean bad things for you. And I don’t want to be a bad thing for you.”

“You could never be.”

It’d be so easy to believe him. To believe him and to let him say what I never imagined I’d be able to hear and damn the consequences of tomorrow. “Can we just refrain from verbally saying anything until you’re sure?”

“I’m sure right now. I’ve been sure since the first time we ever walked in the garden together. The night after the first Coronation Ball I escorted you to.”

I remember that night well. The way he hadn’t scolded me for needing air or taking off my uncomfortably high heels to walk in the grass. “If you mean it, you won’t say it yet. I refuse to get in the way of what you’re meant for.”

His thumb runs my cheek entirely, stopping at the corner of my mouth. “Are you capable of not disagreeing with me?”

Rolling my eyes slightly, I place my hand over his. “Probably not.”

Anakin exhales, his playful irritation clear in the sound. “You’re impossible when you’re tired.”

“I am not tired.”

“I can see the sleep in your eyes.”

“I can see it in yours too.”

He pauses, eyebrows drawn together cautiously. “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”

He must be more tired than I thought if he’s compromising with me so quickly. “Deal.”

Neither of us close our eyes for a long second, we just watch each other with wide eyes. It still doesn’t feel like he’s eased, but he’s come back to me so much more than he was earlier. I’ll make sure to check how he’s feeling in the morning. The first morning after we’ve...I don’t know.

I’m trying really hard not to get excited because anything that’s been not said could be taken back so easily. That’s the point--but it’s hard not to let my heart get ahead of my rationality. I’ll just take the good for what it is for now and tomorrow we can figure out the rest. Even though he’s not allowed to form attachments and my father really wants to marry me off to foreign royalty.

Tomorrow. This can begin to be solved tomorrow. My eyes shut and I let myself roll fully onto my back. The second I’m comfortably settled, I feel Anakin shift against the bed. I’m too tired to open my eyes until I feel a weight placed against my chest.

I open my eyes on instinct, less surprised than I should be when I see Anakin’s head resting against my chest. Before I can speak, I feel his arm rest against my side. “Anakin,” I breathe, my hand moving to smooth his hair out of his face the way I’ve wanted to for so long. “What did we just talk about?”

“You said not to say anything,” he mumbles comfortably, “I’m not saying anything.” ...It is kind of the ideal compromise. Especially since I’m too tired to find reason and he feels so warm. “I can feel you overthinking. Go back to smoothing my hair before I have to rise and stand at your door so that your handmaid comes to wake you. Something tells me she’d be glad for the excuse to get rid of me.”

That might be the most dramatic thing I’ve ever heard him say. Selma is the most patient woman in the palace. “Selma would never report anything involving me, I can’t believe you don’t like her. She’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”

“She’s the one that doesn’t like me,” he says, “she always watches me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m planning on stealing you away.”

Too tired to fight my smile, I go back to smoothing his hair out with my fingers. After a moment, he lets out an exhale that relaxes his entire body. “Goodnight, princess.”

“Goodnight.” The word is barely a mumble as I feel sleep tug against me for the second time tonight.

It’s strange, but my excitement doesn’t diminish my tiredness, it just makes the prospect of rest feel so much fuller. Safer. Because there’s so much to sort out and grieve but it’s okay, because we have the time and everything feels okay because Anakin is here, right beneath my fingertips.

#anakin skywalker #anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #star wars fic

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girlwiththereapertattoo · 3 years

Text

begin again - part three

Jax Teller x female!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Jax grow closer... I don't know what else to say without revealing spoilers haha

Word count: 4k words

Warnings: very bad language, mentions of blood, physical & verbal abuse, angsty & some fluff

Author's note: I appreciate all the positive feedback I've received this far! It's much appreciated :) also, I'm bad at writing these summaries

If you’re in an abusive relationship or you suspect that someone you know is being abused, speak up and reach out to the correct people!

Beta read by @crucifixedbitch

PART ONE | PART TWO

💀💀💀💀💀

He’s late. The thought brings about a familiar uneasiness and your mind conjures images of a bloodied Jax lying unconscious in some dingy ditch. Jesus Christ.

“Mommy, why did you stop reading?”

S/N’s soft voice draws you back to reality. You look over to his bed where he’s laying beside Abel. “Did I stop reading?”

He giggles, “Yep.”

Oh. You look down at the book in your hand then back up at the boys. “I’m sorry, ace. I guess Mommy’s a bit tired.” And apparently, she’s distracted. You look back down at the book, willing yourself to remember your place.

“Cooper the Cat was stuck in the tree,” he reminds you.

“Right, Cooper the Cat!” your eyes hastily skim through the short paragraphs until you land at the right sentence. “Got it. ‘Help!’ cried Cooper from the tree…”

And just like that, all thoughts of Jax and his safety are shoved to the back of your mind to deal with at a later time. It’s your lucky day today, the boys have had a long day and they’re out before you reach the end of the book.

“I love you, ace,” you whisper to your son after you’ve kissed him goodnight.

It’s because of your love for S/N that you left Jax and the endless bullshit that comes with him. Anxiety-filled nights like this one are a thing of your past and you know you can’t allow yourself to be consumed by thoughts of him. Once you start, there’s no stopping you. You know this, very well, so why is there a sick feeling twisting in your gut? Because a small part of you is still in love with your ex.

Hope blooms when your phone vibrates in your pocket but it’s only B/N. It’s not that you’re not happy to see your boyfriend’s name on your phone screen, but the anxiety’s gnawing at your mind, and you’re desperate for it to be put to sleep. Fortunately for you, B/N’s in high spirits. He’s been frustrated with you lately, and wants you back in Charlotte — his insecurities about Jax are beginning to show.

It’s for that reason that you don’t tell him about S/N’s friendship with Abel.

“This time next week, you and S/N will be back home,” he muses.

“Yeah, we both can’t wait.” You feel disappointed at the realization, “It feels like forever, doesn’t it?”

And S/N has been asking about B/N more and more these days but you don’t tell that to him, afraid that he’ll catch the earliest flight to California. Truthfully, you’re not exactly ready to let Jax out of your life which you’ll be forced to do if B/N’s in Charming. You see, he’s… protective and doesn’t like the idea of you hanging around men. Especially Jax. Hell, he almost stopped you from attending your own mother’s funeral.

Of course, it was under the guise of being the protective boyfriend. “Are you sure it’s safe for you to be in the same town as your violent biker ex?” He said all the right things and did everything in his power to talk you out of the decision but in the end, he failed to convince you to stay away.

“Goodnight, I love you.”

You hang up just in time to hear Jax’s motorcycle pull up out front. The relief is quickly overshadowed by concern when you open the door and are greeted by a bloody-faced Jax.

“I’m late.”

“I’m more concerned about that gash on your brow. Come in.” You open the door wider, “If you’re here to get Abel, he’s asleep. You can fetch him in the morning.”

“Shit.” You step aside to allow him access into the house, “I’m sorry, Y/N, I got caught up in Oakland.”

“It’s fine. S/N was happy to have Abel stay the night.”

He smiles, “Thank you.”

You return his smile, “We should clean that before it gets infected.” Before you can process your actions, you’re leaning closer to take a better look at the cut. “I can’t see much, you should rinse it with water. I’ll go grab the first aid kit.”

“It’s late, I’ll have Chibs take care of the cut.”

“Meet me in the kitchen,” you start for the bathroom, “rinse the cut.”

You grab the first aid kit from the bathroom and find Jax sitting at the breakfast table, pensively staring into space, a half-drunk bottle of water sitting in front of him.

“Here.”

Your voice pulls him from his reverie. His eyes drop to the pill container in your hand and he arches a brow.

“It’s for the pain.”

“Thanks.” He accepts the pills and pops the cap open, “I should’ve called.”

“It’s fine.” You do your best to keep a casualness in your voice when you ask, “What was happening in Oakland? Is everyone okay?”

He gazes at you for a long while before he responds, gauging where your head is at. “Yeah, we’re all fine.”

“Should I be worried?”

He slowly shakes his head, “No.”

You watch him take the pain medication, there are so many questions to ask, questions only Jax has answers to.

“Is it safe for you to be here?”

He swallows the pills and smiles, “I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t safe. Don’t worry, you and S/N are safe.”

Hesitantly, you nod as you pull a chair from the table. In a bid to lighten the mood, you tell him, “No offense, Jackie, but you look like shit.”

“I feel like shit,” he chuckles.

You take your seat in front of him and suppress the urge to smile, “Who punched your handsome mug?”

“I was pistol-whipped.”

“Ouch.” Scooting forward in your chair, you lean towards Jax to get a better look at the rinsed cut, and for a very brief moment, your eyes lock with his before they dart up to his cut. “It’s like the good ol’ days, isn’t it?”

“You playin’ nurse?”

“Yeah.”

Back in the day, nights like these were common. Jax would sit at this very table, at the very chair he’s sat on, whilst you tended to his cuts and bruises. Mother would be sitting in the living room, hurling insults at both you and Jax. She would take any chance to remind you that you were making a mistake you would regret for the rest of your life.

“Your mom hated me.”

Your eyes lock with his, “In her defense, you would always be finding ways to antagonize her.”

And in return, your mother would call Jax all kinds of names but even that wouldn’t keep him away. Nothing ever could keep him from you. Memories of Jax sneaking into your room late at night come to mind. “I had to come kiss my girl goodnight,” he’d tell you.

“We were pretty wild back then,” you reminisce.

And you were madly in love with each other, however, you keep that part to yourself. The situation’s complicated enough without the added layer. You’ve barely mustered the courage to mention B/N’s existence to Jax because, in all honesty, you’re not quite sure how he might react to another man raising his son. The thought of his reaction fills you with dread. Heaven knows he’ll give you a hard time about leaving next week.

Gah, it’s all too much! With a shake of your head, you dismiss all thoughts and grab the ointment from the kit. “Shall we?”

He nods and shuts his eye for you to apply it on the cut. A silence descends upon the kitchen and neither of you makes an effort to fill it.

“You’re good to go,” you announce once you’re done.

“Thanks.”

“I couldn’t risk it getting infected.”

More than anything, you don’t want S/N to see Mommy’s friend sporting cuts on his face. He’ll ask questions, probably mention it to B/N, and you’re not looking to have that drama in your life.

“Are you hungry? I’m assuming you haven’t had your dinner…”

“Nah, but I should get going.”

Your mood deflates at his announcement. The truth is you don’t want him to leave but how do you stop him without giving him the wrong idea? Why are you even stopping him from leaving?

“Stay,” you blurt out.

“Stay?”

“Yeah, there’s the guest bedroom. It’s late and you’re medicated and you shouldn’t be driving and–”

“I have nothing to wear.”

“Sure you do.” You take a breath to compose yourself, “I was cleaning out the closets the other day and I found some of your old stuff. They’re clean, I uh, washed them. Everything is oversized, they should still fit you.”

You had intended to take them to Goodwill and you will but right now, Jax needs them.

“Look, I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

It isn’t a lie but it isn’t the full truth. Honestly? You just want him near you. It’s wrong, and you understand the implications and know that B/N won’t be happy should he find out, but one night wouldn’t be harmful to anyone, right? Besides, he’ll be sleeping in the guest bedroom.

He thoughtfully considers your proposition. After a stretched silence, he reluctantly accepts your offer.

“Great,” you perk up, “I’ll warm up your dinner.”

You make some conversation over dinner, none of the heavy shit, mostly catching up on all you’ve missed in the four years you’ve been away. He tells you about the club, and that Opie met someone and they’re now married.

“And how about you? Is there anyone special in your life?”

He doesn’t answer your question, not that you expect him to. You just can’t help but be curious. After dinner, he heads over to the bathroom to take his shower whilst you load the dishwasher and dig through the laundry to look for Jax’s old t-shirts and sweats. The guilt sets in and you fight the urge to call B/N to tell him about Jax.

You’re dialing his number when you stop yourself. “Geez, Y/N!” you toss your phone into the laundry basket and step back to create distance between you and the device. Think about this. The last thing you need is B/N bulldozing into Charming and starting shit with Jax and the M.C. — that could be fatal. No, Jax staying the night is you helping out an old friend, there’s nothing more to it.

Grabbing the folded pile of clothing, you make your way down the hall to the guest bedroom and find Jax waiting patiently on the bed for you. Nothing but a towel tied around his waist.

“I should’ve knocked, I’m sorry.”

He rises off the bed and that’s when you get a clear view of his torso, and the tattoo inscribed on his ribcage.

“You’ve proved your point, Jax, now let’s go.” “No, why?” You look over your shoulder to the big, tattooed man standing over by the counter, laughing at whatever joke he’s just been told. You’re at some grimy tattoo parlor, somewhere in Reno, and Jax’s about to get your name tattooed on his body. His ribcage to be exact. The sentiment is sweet, you admit, but it’s a permanent decision, and you’re only 17. You look back at Jax who’s now laying shirtless on the tattoo chair, “Do you realize how insane this is?” He smiles brightly as he shakes his head. “Do you have a death wish? Gemma’ll kill us both when she sees this.” Part of her rage will be due to the fact that it’s your name on his ribcage instead of hers. “And what if they find out we’ve lied about our age?” “Babe, will you relax? They won’t, this place is a dump.” Which is exactly why he shouldn’t get his first-ever tattoo done here. “There’s no talking you out of this, huh?” “No.” He laces his fingers with yours and raises your hand to press a kiss to its back, “This is what I want to do. I don’t care what my mom thinks.” “And the pain? You don’t care about that either?” He shakes his head, “No.” You glance at the stencil transfer on his ribcage and sigh. “I know you don’t have to do this–” “I want to do this.” “And there’s clearly no talking you out of this.” “Yeah.” You squeeze his hand and flash him a reassuring smile, “Do you want me to hold your hand?” His smile returns, brighter than ever, “I’d appreciate it, darlin’.” “You’re insane, you know that, right?” He nods. “Only because I love you.” You lean over to lock your lips in a kiss — you don’t doubt it for a second.

You pry your eyes from his torso, forcing yourself to face the now smirking Jax. Right, his clothes!

You hold out the pile to him, “Did you put your clothes in the hamper?”

He accepts them and murmurs ‘thanks’ before he responds to your question. “Yeah, just like you said.”

“Okay,” you fight off the urge to look down at his ribcage. He kept it. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight Jax.”

Spinning on your heels, you scurry out the room before you do something you’ll regret later.

💀💀💀💀💀

“Mommy! Come see!”

S/N and Abel’s laughter sounds from the living room. Saturday mornings have always been your favorite. Sleeping in is always a winner in your books, a vital part of any Saturday routine, and once you’re up, B/N takes S/N out of the house whilst you prepare breakfast. Last weekend was S/N’s first Saturday away from B/N and he was miserable. This Saturday is different.

“Mommy?” More laughter sounds, “You will miss it!”

Lowering the heat, you abandon your cooking and make your way over to the living room. A slouched Jax is taking up most of the three-seater with S/N and Abel on either side of him, all three pairs of eyes fixed on the television screen.

“What’s got you laughing so much, ace?” You take a seat on the armrest and press a kiss to the top of your son’s head. “Beaky Buzzard?”

“Yeah.” He looks up at you, “Are you coming to sit with us?”

“No, Mommy’s got to make breakfast.”

You’d like nothing more than to stick around and watch cartoons with them but there’s breakfast to prepare. When you walk back into the kitchen, you discover your phone vibrating on the counter and you just know it’s B/N. It’s his fifth attempt in the last half-hour, probably looking to speak to S/N, but that just isn’t a good idea. Not when Jax is in the house. You’re being deceitful to both parties, but the timing just isn’t right.

B/N would lose it if he found out about Jax’s regular visits, and you don’t know how Jax would react to B/N’s existence in your life and the role he plays in your son’s life. It would ruin a perfectly good morning. The day got off to a good start with the news of the sale of your childhood home, and your son’s mood is the best it’s been all week. Why would you even think to ruin it by starting trouble with B/N?

It’s not worth it. You’ll just have to come up with a story to tell him later.

“Breakfast is served!”

The boys come barreling in and take their places at the breakfast table. You assist the two youngest boys to plate up their food before you plate up for yourself. Everyone digs into the food, and the compliments you receive are a definite boost for the ego. You listen intently as S/N and Abel excitedly recount the Looney Tune episode they’d watched earlier and S/N’s beside himself with laughter.

The happy moment is disrupted by the unwelcomed vibration of your phone on the counter.

“Is that Daddy calling?”

Shit! You wince at the name ‘Daddy’. It’s what S/N always calls B/N but somehow, it doesn’t feel right when Jax’s sitting across the table from him.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah, ace?” you look over to him, very aware of Jax’s eyes burning into the back of your head.

“Is that Daddy calling?”

“No, it’s probably the estate agent.” It’s not a convincing lie, but you’re caught off guard and can’t come up with something better. “She’s calling about the house.”

“When is Daddy calling?”

“Probably later.” You hate that you’re being so dismissive. “We’ll call him after Abel and Jax leave, okay?”

He looks like he might ask another question, maybe press for a better answer, but he resumes eating his food. You avoid Jax’s eyes for the remainder of breakfast. He helps you clear the table and load the dishwasher in painful silence. Once Jax has helped you load the dishes, he leaves you alone in the kitchen. Can the morning get any worse? Apparently, it can. You unlock your phone to find multiple texts from an irate B/N.

He didn’t take kindly to you ignoring all ten of his calls. Shit. You’re on the verge of tears when Jax saunters into the kitchen.

“Abel and I are leaving.”

You nod, unsure of how to respond. “You’ll ride on your bike with Abel?”

“No. Ratboy’s waiting out front with the van.”

“Ratboy?”

“The new prospect.”

“And will we see Abel tomorrow?”

His impassive expression says it all. Your gut twists with anxiety at the thought of not seeing Jax again before you leave Charming. How do you make this right?

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He slowly shakes his head. Just then S/N and Abel sprint into the kitchen, bustling with energy. Abel hugs you goodbye before the boys run back out of the kitchen and out of the house onto the front yard.

“I’m leaving my bike here. I’ll come by to get it later.”

“Cool. Yeah, that’s fine.”

You walk Jax out, and just like he’d said, Ratboy is waiting out front in a black van. Together with S/N, you watch Jax and Abel climb into the van and drive off.

“Can we call Daddy now?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” you lift him up and carry him towards the house. “Did you have a good time with Abel?”

He nods his little human head, a bright grin plastered on his perfect face. Once inside the house, you dial B/N’s number but he doesn’t pick up, in fact, it seems his phone’s off. Strange.

“I think his phone’s off, ace.”

His face falls. In an effort to brighten his mood, you suggest driving over to the playground.

“When is Abel coming back to play?”

You inwardly sigh. It looks like today’ll be one long ass day.

💀💀💀💀💀

The last person you expect to find standing on the other side of your front door is B/N and yet here he is, and he looks anything but pleased with you. Oh, shit. Your heart sinks at the sight of him, the chill of fear coursing through your body, and your mouth dries.

“B/N?”

His unsettling smile causes the hairs on the back of your neck to raise. “Hi, Toots. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Your movement’s robot-like as you step away from the door to make way for him. He walks past you, and once inside, his eyes search around the small space.

“Are you home alone?”

You seem to have forgotten how to speak.

“Toots?”

“S/N… He’s, uh… He’s asleep.”

He murmurs a soft ‘good’ before he turns around to pull you into an embrace. For a moment, you stand frozen, your brain seized up and you feel like a foreigner in your own body.

“What’s the matter, Toots? You don’t look too happy to see me. Were you expecting someone else?”

Yes. “No.” Moving one arm at a time, you return B/N’s embrace and do your best to calm your nerves. You’ve done nothing wrong, he’s not going to hurt you, you repeat over and over until he releases you from his hold. “I just wasn’t expecting you to come all this way.”

“It’s only a five-hour flight.”

Why the fuck are you here?

As if he read your mind, he tells you. “I missed you guys so much, I thought I’d surprise you,” with a tight smile, he adds, “You’re not very good at answering my calls.”

“I’m sorry.”

B/N hauls his luggage from the porch and dumps it onto the floor before he makes his way over to the living room. You follow slowly behind him, watching as he settles onto the couch and searches for the television remote.

“C-can I get you anything?”

“Join me,” it’s an order.

You drag your feet over to the couch and take your place next to him. Casually, he slings an arm over your shoulder and forcefully pulls you into his side.

“There. Now you’re close.”

You can’t bring yourself to fake a smile. Too petrified. He presses a kiss to the side of your head and whispers into your ear to relax.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

He’s told you that lie far too many times in the past.

“Are you enjoying being back in Charming?”

You nod, the words caught in your throat.

“What are you? Mute? Use your fucking words, Toots.”

“It’s good to be back.” Your voice is shaky, barely recognizable. “I missed it here”

His fingers start stroking up and down your upper arm. “Good.”

Your eyes fix on the blank television screen in front of you.

“Is he here? Is he hiding in one of the rooms?”

“Who?”

“Your white trash biker ex!”

You jump up, surprised by him raising his voice so suddenly. “Jax? No! Why would he be here?”

“You lying piece of shit,” he spits out, shoving you away from him, the force sending you to the ground. “I saw his bike parked out front. I’ll ask you again, is he here?”

“No, B/N,” tears fill your eyes, you know exactly what’s to follow but still, you plead, “Don’t do this here. Not now, please, baby.”

“Shut up!” He raises to his feet, towering over you, and kicks at your trembling frame. “No one’s touched you, why the fuck are you crying?”

“I’m sorry.” You swipe the tears from your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t… I don’t know whose bike that is.”

“Are you cheating on me, you whore?”

Frantically, you shake your head.

“I said use your fucking words.”

You bring a trembling hand to your mouth to muffle your sobs.

“I asked you a question, you dumb bitch!”

“No. No. No.” You crawl over to him, closing the distance between you. “I’d never, baby. Never ever.”

“That doesn’t explain why a bike’s parked outside your house.”

“B/N, please,” you plead softly. “S/N’s asleep, we can do this another–”

The words are lost when he harshly grabs your face and shoves you onto your back. Both hands cover your mouth to muffle your pained cries. He’s vicious, and tonight, he’s out for blood.

“Get up, you–”

Knock, knock, knock! You’ve never been more relieved in your life. B/N shoots you a warning glare, daring you to make a move. A few moments later, the knocks sound again, a little louder this time around.

“Y/N?”

It’s Jax. You are faced with two decisions: do you call for Jax to help you or do you take your deserved punishment?

“Y/N?” he knocks louder. “Are you in there?”

You’re sobbing so much, your body’s trembling. B/N kneels beside you, placing two additional hands over the ones already covering your mouth. His additional weight pushes your head further into the hard ground, causing your head to hurt. It’s sure to leave a bruise. With a final knock, Jax gives up and some moments later, you hear his motorcycle ride off. Once he’s certain Jax’s left, B/N removes his hands.

“Why is he here at this hour?”

“I don’t know.” You gasp when he wraps his hand around your neck and applies pressure, making it difficult for you to breathe. “B/N, please…”

“You’ll regret cheating on me,” he murmurs softly before his hand connects with your cheek in a hard slap.

💀💀💀💀💀

PART FOUR

tag list:

@princesssterek @derangedcupcake @furiouscopshepherduniversity @crucifixedbitch @holl2712 @sweet--catrastrophe @marvelsmylife @brittjulianne97

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charlie-pippin-faraday · 2 years

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Which HOA kids have the ability to drive during senior year?

I don’t know why I was thinking about this, but I found myself wondering which of the HOA kids can drive a car, specifically during their senior year (not junior year, and not in college or as adults - just senior year). So I sorted out who has their license, how they drive and how well they drive, as well as who cannot drive and why.

The question: can they drive during senior year?

Nina - Yes. She worked on it and got her license in the summers between seasons, and she's a very normal and competent driver. However, she didn't actually return to the UK for senior year, so she never really had to learn how to drive a manual or get used to driving in another country. If she had been there senior year she totally would've been the designated driver that drove around way too many people in one car. But she is a perfectly fine driver during senior year in the US, and she does enjoy the occasional long drive with just herself and her thoughts.

Fabian - No. He has studied the rules of the road over and over again and he knows the driving manual inside and out, but driving in theory and driving in reality are very different things, and despite knowing exactly what to do, being behind the wheel of a car still makes him nervous and jumpy and he would simply prefer not to worry about that, he'd like to stay where he's comfortable. So he doesn't have his license yet.

Patricia - Yes. Absolutely she has her license by senior year. She got her license as soon as humanly possible, both for the freedom and because Piper is absolutely terrified of driving (in my brain at least), and that's something she wants to have over Piper and be better at and have for herself. I personally don't think she's as terrible a driver as most of you headcanon her to be, but she is definitely fast, aggressive, reckless, and slightly dangerous. Her car insurance premiums are through the roof. Getting in the car with Patricia is probably equivalent to getting on a roller coaster. She is very susceptible to road rage. But yes she can drive in senior year.

Amber - No. Why would she? She can just get chauffeured wherever she needs to go. She sees absolutely no reason why she would need to get her license, especially not during senior year.

Mick - Yes. Well, he can but he doesn't. By the time he could drive he was in Australia. So he learned to drive while he was in Australia, and he has his license during senior year and he's fine at it but he usually doesn't bother.

Mara - Yes. Of course she has her license, obviously. She does everything to the rules exactly, like annoyingly close to the letter. You WILL follow the rules in her car EXACTLY. She thinks she knows better than everyone else, and she does, but no one enjoys this fact. She corrects everyone else's driving, and she even goes out of her way to correct the instructor on her driving test. She is very concerned with safety and following the rules. If you don't buckle your seat belt she won't start the car. She also drives incredibly slowly and carefully, like an old lady. So yes she can drive, and you'll be very safe, but you might lose your mind in the process.

Jerome and Alfie - No. They actually remind me of a couple of friends of mine in high school who were ridiculous and attached at the hip but neither of them could fucking drive. Jerome and Alfie absolutely cannot drive, and neither of them get their licenses until deep into college. Both of them absolutely useless at driving all throughout high school, which is probably for the best tbh they probably shouldn't be trusted to drive anyway. Neither of them make a serious attempt to get their license, they just rely on the others to get them anywhere. For some reason I imagine their primary source of driving being Patricia, which is just absolutely chaotic and a complete disaster, but the image is just too good. However, the blood pressure-raising experience that is riding in a car with Patricia still somehow does absolutely nothing to motivate them to learn to drive.

Joy - Yes. She can drive, and she likes driving, but she's a very distractible driver. She can spend far too much time fiddling with the radio and the settings, and she does NOT like when other people mess with them and she WILL reprimand you for it at the expense of her focus on the road. She gets easily distracted by others in the car so you better be sure you're on your best behavior if you want a smooth ride.

Eddie - Yes. He is actually by far the most skilled driver of the bunch. He grew up driving in New York so he was forced to learn quickly and got pretty good at it. He got his permit and license the DAY he was eligible and he's been driving a lot longer than everyone else since his birthday is earlier on the school calendar and the driving age in the US is younger than the UK. He got thrown a curveball when he learned that a good chunk of cars in the UK are manual, but he's stubborn and determined to drive so he buckled down and learned fairly quickly. However that New York background means that while he's skilled, he's also very aggressive and impatient. So he can for sure drive during senior year, but none of them trust him because he's American and they're convinced he's gonna drive on the other side of the road and get them killed, even though he won't.

KT - No. She was a little late getting started, she definitely wasn't the type who wanted to get her license immediately, and she was in the process of getting her license when she got sent to the UK for senior year. She briefly considered continuing to learn over there, even if it made her nervous, but once she saw it was manual she noped out of that plan real quick. She'll wait and get her license when she gets back home to the US.

Willow - No. Simply should not be trusted behind the wheel of a car.

#these r just my headcanons #and it's a lil long sorry #i always get wordy #i have many thoughts #house of anubis #nina martin #fabian rutter #patricia williamson #amber millington #mick campbell #mara jaffray #jerome clarke #alfie lewis #joy mercer #eddie miller #kt rush #willow jenks

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bandgeek4life8 · 3 years

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Guardians - chapter two the lost city of atlantis

Chapter 1

WC: 3, 453

Season 1, Episode 2: The Lost City of Atlantis

Previously on Guardian in Jim's POV "The Nightmares have emerged once more." Pabbie told everyone.

"GREAT GRONKA MORKA!!" Blinky exclaimed.

"And they attend to assimilate an army. They already have the witch Gothel, the bogeyman Pitch Black, the dragon tamer Drago Bludvist with his mother of dragons Red Death, the prince Hans of Southern Isles and Duke of Weselton, the cursed bear Mor'du, the Pirate "Captain Hook" Killian James, and the Boggan Mandrake. And I have a list of who they want. From my visions. But only two people I wish to say it to: Vendel and... James Lake Jr. Because she wishes it."

"Who wishes for me to know?" I asked him.

"Starling."

Some people are chosen for this life and have no choice but to accept its transgressions. Others spend their life completely in the dark about this life we lead. Some, like me, choose to live this life. It is a lot of work for anybody. Not just anybody can get into this life and survive its trials and tribulations. But we were born for this. To become guardians. But I'm not a guardian yet. I'm just an apprentice.

|{[INSERT_OPENING_SEQUENCE]}|

"Welcome to the first meeting of the Druidia Order." I announced.

"Did you have to name us after a planet in your favorite Star Wars movie?" asked the raven-haired time-traveller Wilbur Robinson.

"Spaceballs is not a Star Wars movie, Wilbur." Currently undercover spy, Walter Beckett told him.

Wilbur rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Did your dad teach you anything about Star Wars?" asked blonde enpath/ hockey-player from Wisconsin, Riley Anderson.

"Only that he hated the sequels, he loves the originals, and respects what the prequels tried to do." Wilbur said.

"Can we please get to the topic at hand please?" I asked everyone.

Everyone in the room grumbled out a yes and we continued with the precedings. Wow. That sounds way too formal for me.

"Well what can we do? We already made allies with the Arendelle trolls via Elsa and Anna. We had Grand Pabbie alert the Trollhunter of the Nightmares." said Ted Wiggins.

"Which means a group of you have to go find the essence stones." Megamind appeared with a plate of, "who wants cookies?"

"Are you growing soft on us, Meg?" Megamind basically growled at Wilbur for the nickname he used.

"I am trying to babysit Gru's oldest daughter and her friends." Megamind told him looking the kid dead in the eye.

"What do you know of the essence stones?" I asked him, ignoring the intense staredown happening between the two makes.

Megamind turned his attention away from Wilbur only for the time-traveller to blow a raspberry at him and Megamind to turn back and glare at him I rolled my eyes. The same old stupid antics. "I know where you can find the essence stone of the ocean."

"If you tell me we have to befriend Poseidon or-."

"It's in Atlantis." Megamind said.

"Or that." I facepalmed. "And how would you know that?"

"Because I have an evil underwater lair in the city of Atlantis." Cue another facepalm from me.

"And why...? You know what? I don't want to know. So how are we getting there?" I asked.

"It's not a matter of how we, but rather how who is getting there." Megamind said.

"That makes no sense whatsoever, dude." Hiro said as he walked into the room followed by Lucy Tuchi.

"Some of us will go on the mission while the rest research the rest of the essence stones." Megamind suggested.

"You know... your ideas are normally terrible. But this one is actually a good idea." Wilbur told him.

The alien growled. "Easy now, Megamind. When we heading out? And who is coming along for the ride?"

"You, Rayla, Ezran, Callum, Sisu, Hiccup, Jack, Light Furry, Walter, and Toothless." Megamind told us. "And you will leave tomorrow. After school."

"Alright. Before we do anymore planning, I need pizza." I walked over to where Hiro plopped the pizza on.

|{[INSERT_COMMERCIAL HERE]}| "

I cannot believe he has the audacity for this! He knows we're not on the best of terms, and yet he does this." I sighed.

"I'm sure he has a reason." said Hiro.

"It's Megamind. It's a stupid-ass reason." I told him.

Hiro sighed. "But you miss hanging out with Toby and Jim. And you-."

"Don't even finish that sentence. I know what you were going to say." Hiro gapped at me. "I know what you were going to say. Only three people know it. And one betrayed me."

My phone vibrated in my hoodie's pocket and I opened it up to see a text from my grandmother, Margaret. "Is that Marge? What she said?"

"She's wondering about the you-know-what with the you-know-who." I told him. She wants to know about James Lake Jr being the Trollhunter. Grandpa would not be pleased with this anyway. But he's dead. And he doesn't matter.

"You have gym next block right?" I groaned. Of course I forgot. And why of all days did we have to do the Pacer test today!

"And we're doing the pacer test today too!" I would have banged my head on a locker if we weren't coming from History. "Kill me now! Woe is me!"

"Stop being overdramatic. And I'm off my way to Robotics." Hiro said once we got to the hall where we would part ways.

"Don't take over the world of robotics without your team first." I called out to gim.

"Yeah, yeah. Just focus on making chemistry after gym, but preferably during." the smart-ass called back.

I'm gonna kill him one of these days. Just you wait, Hiro Hamada. I grumbled and continued on my way to the ends of the earth. Also known as gym. Because I lack the athletic ability of a worm. My arms are basically noodles before submerged in H20. I got dressed in my PE clothes and walked outside to the bleachers where I plopped myself down on. Gym. The one class I don't have my safety net to catch me. The one block where I feel alone. Completely and helplessly alone.

"Hey, [Y/N]. Mind if we sit here?" asked Toby.

It was just him and Jim. What on Earth are they up to? I scooted some ways away from my spot and patted the spot beside me. Jim took the spot beside me while Toby took the bench in front of us.

"We haven't hung out just the three of us in awhile, huh?" Toby remarked.

"You both seem busy since the semester started. I can't blame you for that one." I told them. The pair shrugged at me, but it was a lying shrug. I would know. I do the same ones. "Anyway, what are we doing for our History Project, Jamie?" I looked over at him.

"I don't know. Wanna brainstorm some ideas after school?" Jim asked me.

"Can't. I have a family thing." Lying to them has gotten harder since I found out. Hopefully they don't catch. But they're idiots. They won't catch on... I hope. "I can come over tomorrow after school if you want."

"That... Th-th-th-that'll be gr-gr-gr-great." What's with the stammer? It's weird. "Oh, don't forget about Pig Zombies on Saturday."

"Don't worry. I have it all set in my calendar. So, what time is the movie?" I asked them.

Toby and Jim shared a look. Oh that is never good. "We don't actually know."

"Then, what are we going to do about Saturday?" I asked them.

"We're more of idea men." Like they're any close to being men. "Creating a plan is someone else's problem." Of course.

"You two haven't changed at all, have you? I'll get to work on that sometime this evening. You guys still have email, righr?" I asked them.

"Who still uses e-mail anymore?" Toby inquired.

"Good point. I'll just have Lucy drive us to the theater anyway." I replied. "So, how are you and Claire going, Jamie?"

"O-o-o-oh, m-m-me and Claire?" stammered Jim. That's strange.

"Yes, you and Claire. You two are dating, aren't you?" I asked him.

"Oh, y-y-yeah. We're g-g-g-good." Hmm. Peculiar. But Jim's always been like this when pertaining to Claire. Nothing suspicious about that.

I hope.

|{[INSERT_COMMERCIAL_HERE]}|

Jim

"So, you have a study date with [Y/N] tomorrow huh?" Claire teased me while we walked to Blinky's library.

"What-. Wait! You told her!" I exclaimed to Toby who was on my left side.

"Of course, I did. Dude, you've been hopelessly obliviously in love with this girl since she stole your first kiss on the monkey bars when we were nine. And she-."

"She clearly has feelings for you, but she's not gonna act upon them since you know we're fake dating and all that jazz." Claire said.

I sighed. "You're the smart one. Couldn't you have come up with something... um... better?"

"What? Because a wuss like you was going to ask her out if I didn't say we were dating?" Claire asked him, raising an eyebrow at her friend.

I sighed once more. She clearly had a point. And Tobes seemed to catch it too. "He tried to ask her if she wanted to go see Pig Zombie 6 for her sixteenth birthday, but dragged me along with them because he wussed out of calling it a date."

Claire tapped her chin in thought. I do not understand girls. Then, she did the thing where you smack your fist against your hand in an aha! idea moment. Which is what transpired next. "I have a perfect idea for your movie date on Saturday."

"Am I going to regret this?" I asked her.

"I hope not. I'm helping you whether you want me to or not." Yea me! Internal frown.

We made it Blinky's library in which the four arm troll was talking animatedly to Vendell. About Essence Stones? What the fuzz buckets are those?

"Um, what are the Essence Stones?" I piped up.

"The Essence Stones are the only thing that can combat the Oncoming Storm." Vendel explained.

"Which is why we should be looking for them! We already know where one is! The Sea Stone!" Blinky told him.

"I already told you the Starling has this under control. This is her fight. Not ours. We shouldn't-."

"But then why have Pabbie tell us about the resurgence anyways?!" Blinky cut him off. I don't think Blinky has ever interrupted Vendel before. This is a first.

"Because to warn us of an even greater danger, Blinkous!! One that we have to face on our own! As Trolls!" the elder roared.

I never saw a look of fear as intense as the look that crossed Blinky's face when Vendel told him that. A greater danger? Even Aaarrrggghh! and Draal had the same look as Blinky. What did it all mean? Vendel left the library.

"I don't care what the goat says. We're getting the Sea Stone." Blinky told us.

"And how do we acquire it?" asked Claire.

"Hate Gyre." Aaarrrgghh! cried. Oh.

"And where would we find the Sea Stone?" Toby asked. "It's underwater right? And we can't breathe in water? So is it in an aquarium? Washed up on a beach?"

"I'll tell you where when we get to the Gyre." Claire, Toby, and I shared a look before shrugging our shoulders and following Blinky to the Gyre.

When we got there, we reached the Gyre and hopped in. "So, where are we going?"

"Under the sea. In an underwater palace where there is no water inside located in what you humans refer to as The Bermuda Triangle. Get ready for Atlantis." And before the three of us could protest, Blinky put in the coordinates and we zipped off towards... did he really say Atlantis? And the Bermuda Triangle?

But I didn't have time to question it as we arrived in a palace? And our clothes were soaking wet. But we never submerged in water? You know what? I shouldn't question it. Me and my friends huddled for warmth. It'll be awhile before we're dry. But why isn't- you know what? Never mind. I don't care.

"Okay, so where do we go first?" asked Toby.

"We head for the treasure room. The Jewel of Atlantis is the Sea Stone." Blinky told us.

"Why are we wet, but you aren't?" asked Claire.

"No clue." Blinky shrugged his shoulders.

The three of us grumbled but followed after Blinky with Aaarrrgghh! and Draal taking the rear. This is going to be a long evening. Our little group trudged, our squeaky footprints giving our location to anyone who would be here. And I think someone was here. Because a familiar ball of silver and blue was charging at us. Not us. Me. Followed by a march larger greenish-blue dragon.

"Hi, Azymondias." I said to the baby dragon when he jumped into my arms.

"I see you humans have already met the Prince. Starling's Zym seems to like you Mr Lake." the green-ish blue dragon said. Um... do dragons normally...

"YOU TALK?!?!" Thanks for that, Tobes.

"Of course, I do. I'm Sisu. Starling sent me after Little Azymondias to make sure he stayed out of trouble." Why aren't Blinky, Aarrrgghh!, and Draal freaking out about there being another dragon? And the elf being here?

"You six, now-seven, looking for the Treasure Room?" asked Sisu.

I shivered as a breeze went by. Why was there a breeze? We're in a dry castle underwater! This is just too weird.

"We were headed that way right now!" Blinky told the dragon.

Azymondias coughed. Or sneezed? I don't know. But he zapped me and I yelped and I'm... dry? Well alot dryer than before. Uh, thank you. Living dryer thay could kill me at any given moment. But you're still cute. So you're forgiven if you do.

"Well I wouldn't go that way! That's where Meg put his evil lair at." Sisu told us.

"Lair?" "Meg?"

"Meg is what the time-traveler calls Megamind. And he placed a lair here when he was going through his 'evil' phase." I did not know Dragons did air quotes.

"Time Traveler? Like the Doctor? Or Loki?" askes Toby.

"Looks like a mix of Matt Smith and Loki as a tween with too much hair gel. Alright, kids follow me." Sisu told us.

Zym appeared on my shoulder, wrapping his small body around on my shoulder and we followed the hopping dragon towards the treasure room. We had reached the treasure room, avoiding all the traps (that was on the ceiling for some strange reason). We arrived there. And Sisu peered inside before letting us enter. Strange.

But I couldn't help peering over Sisu's sboulder "Are you really angry that the Trollhunter keeps unknowingly stealing your pet?" That sounded like... no it can't be.

"Azymondias is not my pet. My pet sounds like I chose to take care of him. The bundle of zappy madness chose me to take care of him. So if anything, I'm his pet." Please tell me that's not who I think it is. But the-I'm guessing- Startouch Elf looks nothing like her. Not one bit. Well maybe except for the nose. And the eyes.

"You make absolutely no sense. And yet you love him anyway." the other voice said. A male with slick-back hair. This must be the time-traveler Wow. Sisu was spot on.

"Kids, easy now. We wouldn't want this to get into the wrong hands. Not this close to the Cotillion." A brunette male that appeared to be the oldest of the group. Why does he look so familiar to me?

"I have a question for you, pig snout. Meg said you wouldn't be here. Why the hell are you here? And why are you even here?" the elf asked.

"I stowed away because none of you are smart." the time-traveller said.

"Says the royal dumbass." the female elf sighed. "I'm so young and yet I feel so old." she emphasized. I was half expecting her to do a dramatic fall like they always seem to do in soap operas notthatIwatchsoapoperasinthefirstplacethat'sabsurd.

"I already knew that, dumbass." time-traveler said.

"Go on, Trollhunter." Sisu used her tail to push me toward the elf's group to retrieve the essence stone. "Introduce yourself."

And suddenly I stumbled upon the room making the group's attention turn to me. "Um...hi." Cue the awkward wave. "I'm... James Lake Jr? I'm the... Trollhunter." I held out the Amulet of Merlin. I could practically sense Toby and Claire facepalming at this.

"Starling, I think this one is for you to handle." I now noticed the brunette boy that stood beside the other elf. Is that... Callum Schlott?? Um... I hope if that is him, he doesn't tell [Y/N] about this.

"I am the one they refer to as Starling as you must know. And we don't need you here. To help us." The girl's hand were running up and down a strand of her waist length periwinkle hair. [Y/N] did the same thing when she had long hair. Not the time Jim.

"I think we do. Because the Seastone is missing if you've forgotten." the other elf said. She sounds like Rayla. And sort of looks like her too.

"THE SEASTONE IS GONE!?!?!?" Blinky exclaimed.

"Unfortunately so. Now, one advantage turns out to be a setback." I didn't notice the other brunette who had a black dragon that was acting like a cat by his feet.

"Do you have any leads?" asked Claire as she stepped forward.

"Just a Roman Penny. No clue from where though." Starling told us. "Now, I think it's time you kids return to California. Don'tyouthink."

|{[INSERT_COMMERCIAL_HERE]}|

"So Atlantis was a flopp?" I had already told Draal about the whole atlantis situation.

Luckily mom had another night shift at the hospital, so Draal could walk around freely while I made dinner for myself. Elbow Pasta and Meat Sauce it appears to be.

"Yes, it was, Draal." I turned the TV on and started flipping through the channels to find the one I wanted. "At least, I met Starling. She was not what I was expecting."

"Most elves aren't. You humans expect them to be small and cute because of the Claus, but they aren't." Draal told me.

"Actually, I think," I found what I was looking for. The French food competition show the World's Greatest Chef Competiton. "she was the exact opposite of what all of you were saying. Sure she was a tad harsh to us, but I think she didn't want to involve us in the Essence Stones. Like she didn't want anymore added help. I don't know." A knock sounded on the door.

"Were you expecting anyone?" asked Draal.

"Not that I know. Toby and Claire wouldn't knock. They'll just barge on in." I told him.

And before I got to the door, the door opened to reveal a boy with white hair, incredibly pale skin wearing a blue sweatshirt and brown trousers. "Don't be such a pussy, Hiccup." That was Sisu.

"Yeah, we're only here since Zym wants the trollhunter to be his dragon rider and to train him how to combat magic." white hair said.

"Um... what are you doing at my house?" I asked them as I held my wooden spoon in my hand, ready to strike them if necessary.

"You and Punzie would be great friends, squirt." The platinum blonde ruffled my brown hair to make it messy. My hair now looks like the dragon boy's hair.

"We're here to train you. I'm Hiccup. And this is Jack. Jack Frost." Wait. What? I'm lost. "I live over in Berk Manor. And you have wandered in a den where you cannot get out of." the brunnette introduced.

"Which is why Starling didn't want you to get involved. By trying to help us with the Seastone, you and your friends have put a target on your back. Starling didn't want that. But now we have to help you. To train you. Hiccup here is a Dragon Rider. And even though Azymondias isn't big enough to be ridden. He will be. I suspect sooner than you think, so he's going to train you to ride him. And I and many others are going come here to help you train against magic. Since the people who will come after you to kill you will have magic." Jack Frost told me. Now I'm really lost.

"So let's begin."

@trollhuntersfanatic

#trollhunters #tales of arcadia #trollhunters x reader #onward trollspies #rise of the brave tangled dragons #the futuristic four #x-villains #miraculous ladybug x tales of arcadia #jim lake x reader #jim #jim lake #jim x reader #jim lake jr x reader #tales of arcadia x reader

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moral-turpitudes · 3 years

Text

For The Family:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Fighting/Arguing, Pregnancy, Fluff.

Word Count: 2,572

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Requested: Yes

Requested by: Anon, it can be found here.

Summary: One argument and a million frazzled nerves sends Y/N running out the doors of Shelby Company Limited, causing Thomas to re-evaluate his plans and think about more than himself for once.

One minute.

One minute was all it took for her to walk out, heels stomping through the shop halls of Shelby Company Limited and to the car. Not caring that she and Thomas rode in together that morning. He was resourceful, so he could surely find another way home, if he could make it home that is.

The morning had started out as usual, her husband calling a family meeting to discuss the days events and the legitimate business. Giving them all a rundown of the numbers and telling her and Lizzie about what papers needed filing. But not long after everyone had been given their tasks, he made one final remark. “I have a plan to discuss though, before you all go.” He said, putting his cigarette out.

“God what is it now?” Polly asked rolling her eyes in Y/N’s direction. She smirked slightly, avoiding her husbands gaze as she clasped her hands in front of her, preparing for whatever it is he’d say next.

“I’m going to go after the men who trashed our pub.” He said, looking at the paper on the table that talked about the recent bombing of the place.

“They’ll just come after us again though. What if they plant bombs here aye Tom? We’ll be fookin’ blown to bits.” Arthur said looking out the window. Paranoia already setting in.

“We’ll be fine. They’re getting what’s coming to them.” Thomas said, noticing his wife tensing up as he looked over towards her, her usual relaxed demeanor long gone. The ring on her finger that she was looking at, disappearing as the tears welled up in her eyes.

Polly sighed and clicked her manicured nails against her teacup, hoping that whatever strategy he had planned was good, knowing he’d go through with it no matter who tried to stop him.

“How do you know?” Y/N asked, wiping away her tears as the thought of bombs surrounding the shop ran through her mind.

“What?” Thomas asked, his voice even and unbothered by his family’s concerns.

“How do you know we’ll be fine huh? You said that three months ago and there I was trying to keep you from bleeding out on our driveway.” She said, cringing at the thought of when he’d come home miraculously after being shot in the abdomen, mere inches away from anything vital.

“That was different. This is a another gang with different ways of doing things.” He said, dismissing her concern as the family grew antsy.

“No it’s not. They all have the same fucking goals in mind, Thomas.” She said quietly, going straight to the bathroom. Not bothering to lock the door as she’d made quite the scene.

“When do we go?” John asked, breaking the awkward silence as Thomas tore his gaze from his wife’s empty seat.

Thomas didn’t answer him as he stormed out after her, not bothering to knock as he waltzed right in. “What were you trying to do back there aye? What the hell is wrong with you?” He asked, an anger to his voice that was usually only reserved for his brothers.

“Why are you in here yelling at me? I was trying to get you to think about your fucking family. You say everything is fine, you say everything will work out but how do you know?...” She asked as he stood there without an answer.

“That’s right. You don’t. But you go along with everything anyways not bothering to think about anyone else other than yourself and your little agenda! I’m tired of it.” She spat, looking at him angrily as she realized that was one of the only times she truly yelled at the man.

“I’m doing this to protect the family!” He said, running a hand over his tired face. Y/N looked at him for a few moments, her warm eyes meeting his ice cold ones.

“You signed up for this Y/N.” He said, inching closer to her.

“The only thing I signed up for was to love you. I didn’t sign up to watch us get blown up or to be pawns in your little games. I’m done.” She said, holding her palm to her stomach, the familiar nauseous feeling returning for the third time that week.

“I won’t let them hurt us.” He said, trying to take her hand in his but feeling her turn away.

“Tommy...you don’t realize how many nights I’ve stayed up for you. How many nights I’ve seen you in your office half alive. How many times I’ve dragged myself in here not wondering if I’d ever see you again. You don’t realize who all needs you, and I’m afraid you may never realize it because we’ll all be dead because of you one day.” She said turning to face him, her face pale and her hands shaking as she wiped her tears away once more.

“Why are you so worried about everything now aye? You know I have to do this or it’ll get worse.” He said, more quietly than before.

“Because....I can’t stand the thought of losing you. I know I can’t do anything to stop that but I can’t sit around here or at the house worrying all day. I have more to think about now...more to protect.” She said, leaning against the counter as he walked over to her, putting his arms around her in a tight hug.

“What are you not telling me aye?” He asked, his voice quiet like before, a hint of genuine concern in his voice.

“I’m pregnant, Tom...Just found out last week while you were gone. I was going to tell you later today but...I couldn’t after that meeting. It made me sick thinking about all the possibilities.” She said, looking down at the tiled floor. Her heart hurt at knowing he’d leave her again when she’d only recently gotten him back from one of his “missions.”

Thomas stood there and sighed, the gears shifting in his mind as he thought about what he could and couldn’t do. All the decisions he could make put them at risk, or more so himself, but this forced him to look at things slightly differently. She needed him there, now more than ever, and blowing himself up or getting himself shot wouldn’t do the family any good. But deep down he knew he had to do something.

“You’re thinking of another plan...I can’t believe you.” She spat, walking out of the shop and towards the car, knowing the safest place to be was probably their house.

Thomas punched the counter, frustrated at the woman he loved, the impact stinging his hand as he went back into his office.

“Get your things ready gentlemen. We’re going this evening. Pol I need you to tell me when you knew.” He said quickly, John quirking an eyebrow as he loaded his shotgun.

“She told me she felt off last week, so I read her tea leaves. She didn’t want to tell you until you came back, and it wasn’t my place to tell her business.” She said.

“What’s our dear sister in law hiding aye? She left here in a hurry after all that.” Arthur said.

“She’s pregnant.” Thomas said lighting a cigarette, an expression on his face that was hard to pin down. Frustration, happiness, fear, sorrow, all of them danced around his head as he thought through his plan.

“Well let’s get this over with then brother. You have some making up to do since she left like she did.” Arthur said.

“My wife is my concern Arthur. Just get the guns, get the grenades, and get in the car.” He said sternly.

“....right.” Arthur said, giving Polly a quick hug and patting John on the back before heading out to his car.

“She’s worried about everyone, about me, about the bombs. Hell she’s the safest of all of us if she’s at home though.” Thomas said, mumbling as Polly watched him.

“Of course she’s worried Tom. You plan this stuff out on a whim and expect everyone to go along. What she needs is support and to know you’ll be okay. You’re her husband and the father of her child for Christ’s sake, at least try to not get yourself killed so you can see the poor thing. God...Planning all these things and throwing bombs whenever ya please will only get ya that much closer to your grave.” She said walking out of the room.

Thomas stood there with a blank stare, his cigarette dangling from his lips as he went over the last hour in his head. For as many things he planned, Y/N always knew how to keep him on his toes, and this by far was the best, yet most frustrating one. He wanted to be there for her, and he never doubted that for a second. But he couldn’t guarantee his safety and he knew she was right about that. So with all his will, he sauntered out to the car, telling the boys the new plan, and hauling off to finish the job, praying to nothing in particular that they’d all make it home.

As the hours passed by, the sunlight soon faded as a grenade was thrown, taking out the last three men that they couldn’t shoot down. It wasn’t his plan to start out, since he wanted to bomb their whole operation, but for Y/N’s sake, he told his brothers to use one bomb to avoid hurting themselves, and innocent people nearby. They had enough ammo to take down the rest, even if they had to take cover behind the rickety barstools and old tables.

“You sure you didn’t want to use those other grenades Tom? Just take down the whole building?” Arthur asked breathlessly as they loaded up the car.

“No. Wasn’t worth it. We can use the others some other time.” He said shortly, not wanting to discuss how he’d stopped himself from throwing the others out of love for her. Thinking it would make him seem weak.

“Alright, well let’s get back. You have some explaining to do at home.” Arthur said driving as fast as he could to Thomas’ manor to drop him off. With a small salute, they drove off, John smoking a cigar out the back as they disappeared into the night.

The house was quiet as Thomas arrived, the only light coming from his study as the door was cracked open. Music was playing lightly as he opened the door, Y/N lying on one of the lounge chairs with a book lazily in her hand. Her eyes closed and a soft snore escaping her lips as she slept by the fire.

Thomas plucked the book from her hand gently, putting it back on the bookshelf. Noticing how she shuffled around in her sleep, her brow furrowing almost in worry like a bad dream. Quietly, he walked over to his desk, taking off his coat and everything else work related until he was in his pants and dress shirt, the gun that was nestled in its holster gently placed on the desk as well.

With a swift movement, he gently picked her up, carrying her to their room. The lavish king bed greeting them both as he laid her down, Y/N almost instinctively reaching for him despite their earlier argument.

“Goodnight love. We’ll talk in the morning.” He said as he ran his hand down her back, settling in beside her.

“I love you...” She mumbled before drifting off once again.

“Love you too.” He said quietly knowing she was out. With a small kiss to her head he laid his head back against his pillow, dreams of Y/N and their child filling his mind for once instead of horrid nightmares.

The next morning he awoke to Y/N retching in the bathroom, the morning sickness finally living up to its name as the week went on.

Thomas got up in concern, lightly tapping on the door.

“You alright love? Can I get you anything?” He asked.

“No. I’m fine.” She said shortly, her brain fog from the nights sleep clearing from her mind as she remembered their fight. Her heart aching at his reaction and at his decision he’d made to continue with his plan last night.

After washing up, she finally left the restroom, haphazardly putting her clothes on as she looked at the clock. The time reading dangerously close to when they’d usually leave for work.

“We’re going to be late. Why aren’t you getting ready?” She asked.

“We’re taking the day off.” He said sitting back into the lavish pillows and lighting a cigarette.

Y/N scoffed, and sat next to him, her mind racing to how he’d be up and begging to go to work in less than an hour.

“Tommy Shelby taking a day off? That’s fucking unheard of.” She said, reaching for his hand that was now draped over her leg.

“We need it. Even if it’s only for today.” He said.

“Why?” She asked, messing with the few rings he had on his fingers.

“We need to talk about yesterday. And....I didn’t have the best reaction....so I wanted to apologize. You have me to yourself for the rest of the day.” He said, a slight smirk on his face.

Y/N sighed as she remembered, their heated argument filling the walls of the shop restroom as she tried to get him to see reason, knowing not even she could get him to change his mind, or so she thought.

“I changed my plan last night. I was going to bomb the whole place...but uh...when I looked at them....I saw you. I only used one and we shot the rest.” He said, hating he had to tell her the details but that unfortunately came with the territory of marrying a gang leader.

“Really? Only one?” She asked, her eyes flicking up to his as they laid their on the bed.

“Mhmm. Didn’t want to hurt other people ‘round there. I saw women and their children near the place...and it got me thinking of what you’d said earlier...I couldn’t use more after that.” He said, finally coming to peace with the fact he didn’t have to completely obliterate the place to get his message across, saving innocent lives in the long run.

Y/N smiled as she gazed into his eyes, trying not to drown in the ocean blue orbs as he took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips.

“I know I didn’t have the best reaction yesterday to the news...but I am happy. I can’t wait to see them. And I know you’ll be a wonderful mother. I couldn’t be happier, love.” He said softly, gently resting his hand atop her stomach and kissing her temple.

Y/N nodded, a sense of relief flowing off her as she finally knew he wasn’t upset. Even if she’d had Polly find out before him.

“Thank you...” She said quietly, the sunlight streaming in through windows as she pulled him closer to her, not wanting to let him go anytime soon.

“Are we going to lie in bed all day?” He asked.

“You said I had ya all to myself, I can think of a few other things we could do.” She said, smirking at him as she pulled him in for a kiss. Both of them looking forward to spending the day with each other, even though it was a rare occurrence.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx,

@lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore, @xxbeckybeexx-blog

If you’d like to be added/removed, just send me an ask/message! :)

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders headcanons #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x female!reader #thomas shelby x y/n

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softinkshadows · 3 years

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Shingeki no Kyojin Astrology: sun-moon-rising combinations

I was looking around tumblr for detailed astrology speculations of my fave anime characters, but there aren't that many! Being q well-versed in astro myself, i thought why not do my own version (very spoiler-free, don’t worry)! I followed the birth dates given by isayama:

Eren Jaeger - Aries sun, Scorpio moon, Cancer rising Aside from the fact that he can be hotheaded and impulsive, Eren's feelings of vengeance run deep and explosive. Remember that time he was chained to the bed after the attack on trost, and his eyes were wild with the need to violently eradicate all titans? He's so tenacious and emotionally stubborn too (a Scorp moon trait) to the point of being closed off from everyone else, especially towards the end where he seems to take the weight of the world's burden on his own shoulders. And all for the sake of protecting his community and ensuring the safety of his friends for the rest of their lives. His comrades and family are his motivation. This is his Cancer rising steering his life.

Mikasa Ackerman - Aries sun, Aquarius moon, Aries rising "Look that moody brat is running off on her own again." Mikasa is similar to Eren in her impulsiveness and determination, but different in two ways- what they aim to protect and their extent of fearlessness. Eren is aware of his own weaknesses and helplessness, but Mikasa's amazing physical prowess makes her act without any hesitation at all. She's hella fierce and driven to keep herself in shape too, doing all those sit-ups and chopping firewood post-injury. I think she deserves a double Aries! An Aries rising means a Libra descendant too, which is reflected her whole-hearted devotion in her close partnerships (Eren and Armin). Her aquarius moon really shines thru with her stoic independence, focus and perseverance.

Armin Arlet - Scorpio sun, Virgo moon, Pisces rising He's the brain of the 104th cadet corps, and is second to Erwin in terms of strategy! An intelligent planner with low self-esteem often found second guessing his own analytical abilities, Armin is a true blue Virgo moon. His emotional self stands out the most from the main three protagonists - Eren & Mikasa mostly express anger and desperation, whereas Armin is usually shrouded in fear and worry. He's a very soft bb, hence the Pisces rising, not to mention he gets so dreamy imagining the sea, the vast plains, and the magical world beyond the walled universe he knows. A spiritually-attuned and curious explorer :")

Levi Ackerman - Capricorn sun, Scorpio moon, Virgo rising Levi is such a complex person, thanks to Isayama's brilliance. Like many Cap suns, Levi is authoritative, cold and incredibly savage. That's not to say he doesn't feel anything either. Levi is an evolved Scorp moon (maybe even moon in 11th house) because his feelings are never for himself, but he hurts so much for others - you can tell every death hits him so hard, but he doesn't show this to anyone else. He also exudes this quietly intimidating aura of natural competence, a common characteristic of this sun-moon combo. He can take things personally as well (re: height issues) but it never snowballs into more than passing irritation. The turbulence of his emotions and habit for violence is balanced out by his earthy Virgo rising, which is emotionally subdued, quite thin and delicate in physique, and super neurotic and nitpicky when it comes to cleanliness and health. Cap, Virgo and Scorp are some of the most guarded signs, and a combi of all 3 are hellish. You can tell this poor beautiful man is always caught between feeling and thinking, between maintaining his humanity and forsaking it.

Erwin Smith - Libra sun, Capricorn moon, Leo rising In another life, Erwin Smith would be the damn CEO of a global conglomerate because he oozes so much charisma. Hell if charisma were energy Erwin Smith would be its prime, eternally renewable source. His stature alone is so commanding, and I find some strong Leonine traits in his thickset physique, strong eyebrows, beautiful hair, and that way he shouted in full glory atop wall Rose in that one episode to the cheering masses below. He might be a Libra sun, diplomatic in political affairs, but his Capricorn moon is what drives his decisions. Cap moon has a rep for being cold and unemotional, but i believe they are way more than that! Cap moons rarely boast about their long list of achievements, instead looking forward to the next goal. They struggle with emotional expression, and are super driven and disciplined. Erwin is capable of making the hardest decisions, putting aside emotions to strive for an abstract ideal, and this is to be expected of the commander who takes on the role of the devil.

Hange Zoe - Virgo sun, Sagittarius moon, Gemini rising All hail our favourite mad scientist!! Hange is such a breath of fresh air in the Survey Corps, balancing out the heaviness of missions with their wacky tales of titan research and experimentation. Their penchant for study and higher knowledge is typical of a Sagittarius moon, who is drawn to advanced academic study and spiritual truths. It's also a lighthearted and optimistic sign, true to Hange's upbeat personality. The Virgo in them contributes to their sheer intelligence and obsessiveness with research subjects. We also know they LOVE to talk, and once Eren asks Hange about experiments, they cannot stop (Gemini governs communication). Virgo, Sag and Gemini are the most intellectual signs, and because they are mutuable Hange tends to follow orders rather than give them, making it difficult to adapt to their new role towards the end of the series. Mutable signs also means rapidly-changing emotional states, and a whole lot of chaos, which suits our beloved squad leader.

Jean Kirstein - Aries sun, Virgo moon, Taurus rising Our third Aries on the list ohmygod. The snk universe is full of feisty hotheads. Jean is always seen clashing with Eren, fuelled by Eren's closeness with Mikasa and his own adorable jealousy. I mean, they had a full on fist fight right after dinner in the mess hall, although everything went downhill after the first few punches. Our first impression of Jean during his cadet days is coloured by his desire to work in the interior, and this favour for material safety and wealth is perhaps common to a Taurus rising. Also, Taurus is ruled by Venus, planet of beauty and harmony, and thus often figures in the charts of artists. If you've seen Jean's drawing skills in that special episode, you'll know that his artistic abilities are the finest we have seen, exceeding even that of isayama himself. Jean's strong principles such as being averse to killing people and oftentimes cynical nature, is also characteristic of the moral and cautious Virgo moon.

Sasha Braus - Leo sun, Gemini moon, Taurus rising Not all Leos are showmans. Sasha is the type of Leo who displays more of the quirky, unabrashed personality suited to her opposite sister sign Aquarius. Authority doesn't exist when food comes into play, as we see when she breaks potato with Shadis and later steals a slab of meat from the officer's warehouse. Unlike the visual artistry that Jean possesses with his Taurus rising, Sasha's Taurus centers around her love for food, and hell she can have fiery determination for it (rmb the wild night she mistook Jean's hand for meat?). I love that both of them were pitted with each other in that cooking special episode. I considered placing her as a Taurus moon, but Taurus moons are usually steadier and classier in emotion, whereas Sasha is often breezy, gets nervous and chaotic, with stellar intuition, making her likely a Gemini moon.

Connie Springer - Taurus sun, Cancer moon, Gemini rising Although not much attention is paid to Connie's growth, his character development reminds me a lot of Aang from ATLA. Cheery and happy-go-lucky at first, before the incident with his mother made him more prone to feelings of anger and vengeance, especially near the later chapters. His strong protective bond with his mother is what compels me to say he is a Cancer moon, which is a moon sign that is very homebody and drawn to family and traditions. His goofy self and him referring to Sasha as "his twin" puts him as the spunky Gemini rising, another sign he shares with her.

Reiner Braun - Leo sun, Pisces moon, Capricorn rising Aside from his natural leader personality (Leonine), Reiner likes to take on the persona of the big brother of the group. His outward stoicism, decisiveness and task-oriented nature is typical of a Cap rising, who is often serious and solemn in appearance. He reminds me of that Cap rising workaholic who does his best in a corporate organization, working 9 to 5 plus overtime as it fulfills his sense of purpose. Beyond his stoic facade reveals a more troubled personality. Like a Pisces moon, Reiner is impressionable, and it's difficult to tell if his emotions and personalities are his own, wavering and absorbing traits from those around him. His internal war with his identity and the ensuing fatigue characterises him during the second half of the series.

Annie Leonhart - Aries sun, Aquarius moon, Virgo rising Annie is the kind of Aries that is so motivated to achieve her goals that everything else is sidelined, including her own emotions. She's quite ruthless in chasing her objectives, and her composure, focus and endurance is highlighted with an Aquarius moon. I'm guessing she has a 4th house influence somewhere because of her motivations to go home to her father and lead a normal life. I find the daintiness and delicateness of her features similar to Levi, who is also a Virgo rising. The Virgo effect also registers as a brutal, unfiltered honesty (also seen in Levi), and Annie doesn't hesitate to speak the truth about her own or her opponent's capabilities.

Other characters which I won't go into much detail about:

Bertholdt Hoover - Capricorn sun, Virgo moon, Pisces rising Bertholdt is quiet with an unobtrusive personality. His lack of supposed iniative and aggression can perhaps be attributed to the mutuability of Virgo and Pisces, which goes with the flow instead of charging forward. He keeps his feelings to himself, but reacts when the people he wants to protect are threatened.

Historia Reiss - Capricorn sun, Libra moon, Cancer rising Historia initially lives for the sake of others (esp Ymir), and is more co-dependent than many of her other squadmates. She also tends to put up a front of pleasantness, afraid of disappointing or offending people. She has a strong tie to family, and a profound sense of duty.

Ymir - Aquarius sun, Pisces moon, Aries rising Ymir is extremely astute when it comes to evaluating human behaviour. The religiosity of her background is also usually found in this sun-moon combination, which tends to attract paths of strong spirituality. She also has a bold and noble sacrificial streak for the sake of her companions.

Zeke Jaeger - Leo sun, Capricorn moon, Scorpio rising A headstrong, intelligent and radical character. In a way similar to Erwin in his ruthlessness, but emotionally darker and much more sinisterly private.

Kenny Ackerman - Aquarius sun, Sagittarius moon

Rod Reiss - Virgo sun, Libra moon

Dot Pixis - Virgo sun, Sagittarius moon

Hannes - Capricorn sun, Taurus moon

#snk astrology #snk #aot astrology #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #anime astrology #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlet #levi ackerman #erwin smith #hange zoe #jean kirstein #sasha braus #connie springer #reiner braun #annie leonhart #bertholdt hoover #historia reiss

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

champagne problems

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader

warnings: smut

a/n: oooo smut. the next chapter is the last and i’m depressed about it already

TOLERATE IT - TIS THE DAMN SEASON

Bustling crowds or silent sleepers, you’re not sure which is worse ...

Her shift dragged; it seemed as if the clock was stuck and moving only a minute after three hours had passed and even though there was the same sea of people coming through the doors of the club, the shift felt slow. Everything was in slow motion and her eyes daren’t move from the bar. Bobby was still on holiday and as such it as merely her, ignoring everyone and every word which came her way and ignoring Edward who kept nagging her about Mr. Barnes, a person who she didn’t want to look at.

She didn’t understand how one could just pretend to be entranced by another one and just turn it on yet she would also not debate her mind about what her feelings were for her boss, the same boss she was supposed to betray. She was supposed to betray him and yet she didn’t know how or even if she wanted to. Why should she? They clearly had sent Edward in and him being the spineless vermin he was, she was sure he’d quickly join his group by quickly sleeping with the woman who surrounded the mob boss. The women ... the women were always so beautiful, beautiful enough to make Y/N want to make herself up before she came up to the bar, feeling too bland next to the gorgeous women who paraded around him. Beautiful dresses, spotless faces, beautiful makeup, beautiful hair and here she was, in her old cardigan cleaning the bar with dirty rags stinking of a mix between bleach, peanuts and booze.

Once the lights were up and every single glass was washed and placed on their due shelf for tomorrow she was out. Bag hanging from her shoulder and books against her chest, she took the backdoor. The front door always had freshly drunk or high people whom she wanted no problems with. As she pushed the door open, she saw him, smoking in front of him car looking so effortlessly cool, chic even. It was pouring, raining so harshly it would drench anyone who dared step foot in yet he just stood there unbothered, cigarette still somehow burning, water drops rolling of his trench coat. Usually she would’ve entered the car and allow herself to be driven home; instead she turned her head to the side, pretending she hadn’t seen him. He, however, had seen her.

- Wanda picking you up today, petal? - he said in a mocking tone, throwing the butt onto the bin.

- No, sir. - she stopped, still not daring to look at him. - I thought about walking home alone.

- At night? When it’s pouring? Sometimes I think you like to get hurt, petal.

- With all due respect, Mr. Barnes, I think I should go by myself.

- Please. - he sighed, hands on his hips. - Get in the car, I’ll drive you the fastest I can. You don’t even need to look my way.

Her lips tightened. It was pouring rain, her clothes were already as drenched as they could be and she had been less than 10 minutes. She sighed, walking through puddles of water towards and away from him and inside his car, setting against the leathered seats. Bucky chuckled, watching from the side of his eye as she crossed her arms across her chest like a kid, avoiding his gaze as if he were the devil. Maybe he was, but he would never act like it in front of her.

She watched the rain fall down the window like waterfalls. It was bad, bad enough she could start seeing the water almost pool on the asphalt of the road. As they kept driving through the darkness, only the headlights giving light to the dark road until blinding lights came into their front view. Police came into view with their lights but all she could see was the bar barring the only way into her road. Bucky pulled the window down, charming smile as the cop realised who he was speaking with. She looked at her knees, perfectly knowing who it was, perfectly knowing if he discovered who she was so would James and she was locked in a car with him. Not a good combination.

- Evening, officer. What seems to be the problem?

- Mr. Barnes, sir. - she tipped his cap at him. - The road is flooded. We feared this and warned all residents to be at home before 5PM.

- I understand, officer but you see my employee here lives just down the road. Can’t I walk her in? Come on, you know I always pay you back, double even.

- It’s up to your knees, sir. You’re better off in a hotel for the night, m’am. Safety protocol.

James turned around his car making her look his way as he started driving away from her home. What was he doing? How was she supposed to go back home and how was she supposed to calm down when he was driving her away from her home. Was he going to drop her at a hotel? Was he going going to drop her, she didn’t know. She opened her mouth, waiting for words to come out but nothing came out. She didn’t know what to ask, what to say other than yell at him to let her out yet she didn’t. Y/N didn’t want to yell at him.

He noticed this, slowing down the normal fast pace at which he liked to drive, only now hearing to both of them breathing and the water drops of rain hit the windows. He could see her, through the mirror, her face leaning against the window, eyes reflection a sort of fight he was sure never to completely understand, only partially knowing. His eyes returned to the road ahead, the lights of each house dimming as everyone prepared to hold each other tight, hold their loved ones as the storm continued. He could only look at himself, almost as his vision refused to notice she was right there but she was. Both locked in the same car.

- You can stay at my place tonight. - he mumbled. - You’ve been there before. I’ll drive you back first thing in the morning.

She didn’t replied, instead letting her own eyes close momentarily, head laying against the water stained glass. She listened to the rain, considering all her life choices or what she was even doing. Was she okay with becoming this close to the mob boss? Becoming part of the inner group of females who followed him, just another name in a big list. Was that the question she should be asking? No. Did she really want to ask herself the question she had to? Also no. It was much easier to tell herself it was business. It was much easier to lie than tell the truth.

Y/N opened her eyes once again as the car slowed down and the sounds of rain drops were no longer around heard. They were parked inside his garage, one which she had seen before. He was the first one out the car, opening the door before walking away. She made haste to get off the car, almost power walking after him as he pressed the lift’s button to open the doors. The doors slide open and he stepped in, her following behind.

- I’ll be sleeping in a hotel down the street so you can calm down.

- You can stay if you want. I mean, it’s your house.

- Why should I? So you can freak out about the possibility of me killing you?

- That’s not it.

- Afraid I’m going to force myself on you? - he scoffed. - You know what, Y/N? I’m just not gonna be there and you can do whatever you want without blaming me for whatever theories you have.

- Why are you so mad suddenly?

- I’m not mad.

- Yes, you are. - she crossed her arms. - Excuse me if I don’t feel comfortable around you when you have more than two hundred kills blamed on you, when you’re constantly surrounded by girls and the rumours and the guns you always carry.

- I’ve killed two people in my whole life. Two. - he pointed his finger at her, making her take a step back. - They deserved it and I’m so tired of trying to make you feel safe. I get you a job and you’re upset, I get you a job waitressing so idiots won’t treat you like shit and you think I’m being the bad guy. I drive you home every single time and you still look at me as if I’m going to kill you. You can think whatever you want, I’m done.

She was going to rebuff him, tell him he was wrong but that wasn’t true. She couldn’t say he was wrong out of principle and because once the doors slide open, he disappeared into his big apartment. Y/N stayed behind, heart heavy as she threw her soaked bag onto the couch, sitting on it with a huff. Like a kid she put her hand under her chin, she knew he was right. Of course she knew. But she was the captain’s daughter, she was the one who’d heard tales and seen photos of terrible crimes on the kitchen table when she came in to show her dad her drawings. She knew it, she just didn’t exactly knew what he did. It was all very hush hush, mostly rumours, which ran from people to people and like the game of the broken phone, things got distorted.

She was the captain’s daughter but this wasn’t her. It wasn’t her identity. She knew better not to judge someone by rumours and gossip, her mother had taught her better than that yet she wanted to have her little walls. She wanted to be surrounded by that wall, that wall which said she felt absolutely nothing and that she was doing a good job. Y/N knew, she knew way too well what having those walls crumbling would mean. It would mean she was a woman infatuated with a man. Plain and simple, except it wasn’t and it wasn’t just a woman and just a man, it was the captain’s daughter and the mob boss. She knew not to slap labels on things but this is what it was, this was what she had been her whole life, not Y/N, not the nurse student, not her last name but the Captain’s daughter and him, him it was the same. She could count the number of people who knew his full name or even his first name in one hand. He was the boss. The mob boss, Barnes. Never James Buchanan Barnes.

She sighed, looking to the chess board in the table in front of her. However, unlike everything else in the room which was absolutely spotless, organised and unseeingly unlived in, the chess board was still in the same position they had left it. Her fingers grazed the black chess king, holding it up to her eyes. The piece she had won.

His shoes hit the linoleum floor making her look his way. He had a small leather carry on, something quite stylish and refused to make eye contact with her instead walking straight to the elevator.

- Mr. Barnes. - she perked up from the couch, getting his attention instantly. If she only knew. - Can you entertain me for a second?

- I’m leaving, Y/N. What do you need?

- Sit down. - she pointed at the couch in front of her. Bucky scoffed, for someone who was afraid of him killing her, she sure didn’t mind ordering him around. Her. The bartender. - Play with me.

- Play with you? - he dropped the suitcase to the floor, walking slowly to the chair in front of her. She sat against her own chair like a throne and so did he, standing in front of her. - You should be careful with your word choice.

- You should be careful with me winning again.

- I’ve learned all your moves, petal. I’m an observant player.

- I doubt that.

Bucky leaned over, setting his pieces as she did the same. Soon enough they were back to playing. Bucky observed her, watching as every play was so calculated, never by chance, lip in the middle of her teeth as she smoothly moved her pieces around almost like a ballet dance. Bucky remembered playing against more experienced players. “Chess is the game of the mind, James. You need to almost control and predict them to win” his teacher would tell him. She was impossible to read, always looking deep in thought yet so calm and collected, he guessed she needed that for the field she was in.

His pieces were dropped on her side, her taking what was his without any doubt until she stole his queen. Now, James’ knew not to play anymore. It was a courtesy of chess, yet she still didn’t look or carried the air of someone who had just won her game. Instead she looked at him, waiting for his move. Bucky leaned against his chair.

- You won. I should be leaving, it’s late.

- Wait, just .... why don’t you stay for a bit? We could talk, I’m not that tired yet.

- Petal, it’s late.

- I’ll fix you a drink.

- You can’t fix a scotch if your live depended on it. - he chuckled. - How about I fix you a drink? What’s your poison?

- Can I get some tea?

- Sure. - he shrugged. - Which one do you want?

- You have more than one type of tea? - she smirked, legs crossed over one another, the old wool dress still clinging to her skin due to the soaking wet fabric. James tried not to eye her, instead turning his back before he could be blamed of checking her out. - You don’t strike me as the type of person to like tea.

- Maybe I’m just trying to impress you.

- Then in that case you should have biscuits. - she turned around on the couch, knees of the cushioned seat as she stared at him in the kitchen. He looked exactly like the type of man on the cover of an IKEA magazine, those ones were a shirtless man is holding a coffee cup like every morning after sex fantasy of every woman.

- I do have biscuits, petal. Which ones do you want?

- Which ones do you have?

- Try me.

- Chocolate covered digestives. Only one side chocolate.

- An educated choice. - he opened one of the many drawers of his kitchen, pulling an acrylic container fulled to the brim with the same biscuits she had described. A man of taste indeed. He handed them a plate with three biscuits followed by the one tea cups he had which were his coffee mugs, always spotless white. She envied how pristine everything was in his home. In her flat, half the cutlery was hers, the other half Wanda’s and none matched with one being bright blue and the other one bright red.

As for him, she knew what he drank, always the same, always the same old scotch. At this point she wondered if he liked it or if it was a power symbol. Big powerful man drinking the most expensive scotch in the world. At least it was the most expensive scotch when she researched it on her laptop on a particularly boring lecture. Yet, it somehow wasn’t the drink which gave him that untouchable appearance. It was him.

- I have a question. - he moved the glass away from his lips, pinkie finger pointing at her. - How come you ended up dating my cleaning boy?

- We didn’t date. - she snorted, completely forgetting who she was speaking with. - His mother and my father dated for a long time after my mum died .. to be honest, I think it started before my mum died. Anyway, she had this awfully annoying kid, first time he came in he broke the head of my doll.

- Oh no, petal. Should I break his head? - James joked, downing whatever was left of his scotch.

- I would take you up on that. - Y/N rolled her eyes. - Dad always liked him, he once told me he was the child he never had.

- Ouch.

- Well, he wanted a boy. - she leaned against the cushioned coach. - I don’t know why he said we dated, I would never.

- Good.

- Why do you ask? - she leaned her head against her shoulder

- You have potential, petal. I thought maybe being around him would make him want to get back together ... I mean, you’re going to be a nurse.

- Don’t trust him. - she held the mug against both her hands.

- Pardon?

- Don’t trust him. Edward, I mean. Don’t tell him anything, don’t say anything, just don’t trust him.

- You know something I don’t? - he put both his hands on either side of the couch’s handles.

- Promise me.

- Petal ...

- Promise me. - she cupped his face, looking him deep into those baby blue eyes she had gotten so used to see every day. - Promise me, okay? Just ... you don’t need to know. Promise me.

- Petal, I’d do everything for you. - he rested his hand against her warm cheek. She reacted to his touch, leaning against his rough palm. Her eyes travelled towards his, looking at him like someone she’d knew from. Like an old friend. He leaned towards her, nose against hers.

Her eyes flustered, cheeks warm and she no longer knew if it was due to the apartment’s heating or because he was looking at her that way. She closed her eyes, listening to the small sounds of the environment surrounding her. Bucky kissed her forehead as her eyes opened and the world seemed to stop for a while as if she was living her own version of a 1950′s romantic movie. Her finger caressed his cheek.

- Well, you shouldn’t do everything for me. I’ll break your heart.

- Already broken.

Y/N’s lip quivered at those words. It was if he had been meaning to say them but had held them in for so long, forceful forbidding himself to even think it and it broke her heart to hear it. She leaned her forehead against his, looking at him with a look Bucky didn’t remember seeing. God, he was so used to seeing fear in other’s faces that he almost forgot what ... it didn’t mind anymore. He’d done that mistake once early this day and he wasn’t going to do it again. She didn’t want him and he wasn’t going to try and convince her. She doesn’t belong in his world and she doesn’t belong in his.

- Kiss me. - Bucky didn’t think twice, immediately kissing her as if his life depended on it.

He pulled her away from the couch’s rest, pulling her towards him and caging her in his hold as her hands fell from his face and rested upon his shoulders. His jacket was discarded to the corner of the room, leaving the mob boss only in his soft black dress up shirt. His hands pulled at the hem of her dress which peeled off her body almost perfectly, the sheen on the water on her beautiful skin which made him want to run his lips over it. Her fingers grazed over the dark buttons of his shirt, pulling them off their own fabric rips to open his shirt which slide down his perfect physic. Her dress hanged by her hips as he raised her to lay atop his lap, throwing the chess board to the floor as his hands roamed her back. The pieces fell to the ground, some breaking, some rolling but none of them really cared too lost on each other.

Bucky turned her around, laying her atop the coffee table before sitting in the same couch she had been sitting. He could just look at her forever - warm damp skin, lips half open, irregular breathing, innocent knowing eyes. He could look at that forever and be happy yet all he wanted was to feel her, kiss her skin, sense the faint smell of the Daisy perfume she would reapply behind the bar every once in a while. He smirked, leaning over her body, one hand gathering both her hands above her head while the other held her waist, lips leaning from her jaw to her neck. She whined, fingers moving and wrists turning as she tried to free herself from his grip, wanting to hold him but he didn’t allow her. Instead, Bucky started sucking on her pressure point, wanting to leave a mark for others to see before moving to her collarbones, down her perfect swells and to her belly button.

He smirked as he reached where her dress was hanging. He pulled it slowly out of her legs coming face to face with her beige underwear with a little bow up top. A little present for him to open.

Y/N could feel his finger grazing her skin, dragging teasingly. He was so close, so close to her core and yet so far. All she wanted to do was push him to do it but he had her hands tightly caged in his hand. She looked at him with pleading eyes, almost pouting making him chuckle at how needy she was. He would’ve toy with her had he not want to feel her for so long.

He dragged her underwear down her legs, throwing it across his living room before setting himself on his knees in front of her. There he was, the most powerful man in the town kneeled in front of her, kissing her leg from her ankle to the apex of her thigh. All she could feel was his soft lips contrasting with the rough stubble he had which made the mix of emotions much more interesting. It was slow yet hungry at the same time and she expected him to keep at it until his lips moved to her core abruptly. She held it a moan on her throat, oxygen punched out of her lungs as she moved her head to the side.

Bucky hooked both her legs over her shoulders, getting the access he so wanted, getting her where he’d always wanter her. She moaned uncontrollably as his tongue teased her entrance, lips suckling her bud. Y/N wanted to hold onto his head, pull on his hair and her fingers kept contracting as she fought his handle of her hands. It was too much, so much she could feel herself start to cry, not remembering the last time someone had paid this much attention to her. She tried not to focus on him eating her out, feeling like if she did she’d come down from her high as fast as she had gotten there. Once he started moaning against her core, the vibration drove her over the edge yet he remained there licking and lapping at whatever she had to offer as she regained her breathe.

- You okay there, petal? - he rose, leaning over to kiss her, releasing her hands. As if they were magnetic, she cupped his face, feeling his skin against her fingers. He pulled his lips away from her, expecting an answer but she only nodded, hands leaving his face to travel to his trousers to try and push them down. Bucky aided her with that, pushing his trousers down and pulling her closer.

He could see his eyes look into his, so beautiful yet so lustful at the same time. God this woman, he thought to himself, this woman is gonna end me. His hand searched for hers, intertwining his fingers with hers as he slowly started to enter her, her walls accommodating him like they were made for each other. She forcefully shut her eyes, the sting being the first thing she felt, not used to being stretched out like that.

- It’s okay, petal. - he kissed her forehead. - We can stop, do you wanna stop?

- No. - she moaned, the sting started to fade as pleasure gave way. He got her signal and started to slowly rock in and out of her, eyes glued to were they were both connected. Dear God. He couldn’t help but pick up the pace at the sound of her lustful moans, leaning down to kiss her as he lost control over what pace they were at, instead going by instinct.

She could feel and hear everything; her walls tightening around him, milking him for what he was worth it, the groans that sounded like moans that he would let out, his lips never leaving hers no matter how messy the kiss became, the slapping sound of their skin meeting. The room was hot, filled with sighs and groans and moans, something pornographic.

- Come on, petal. You’re gonna come undone for me, yeah? Just for me. - he tried to get a grip on himself as she started to clench on him more often. His hands came up behind her back, slowly raising it from the coffee table as he quickened his pace, still panting but not stopping as if he had been possessed by an incubus. How could he stop? How could he stop when she looked like that, head thrown back, lips swollen and open, fucking perfect.

A high pitched moan made the room go completely new, it was almost as if she were high, white spots crowding her view as she let her muscles relax and fall back. James held her, throwing himself to the couch behind him, her on top of him as ropes of white spurted inside of her and spilled onto the couch. Fuck, he wanted to keep those stains so he could remember. Her head rested against his shoulder, breathing returning to normal as he kissed her hair.

- If you wanted me to stay so badly, you could’ve just asked. - he grinned, kissing her head once more.

- Shut up. - she giggled, turning her head to look at him. - Hi.

- Hi. - he smiled. His hand blindly searched for one of the many useless blankets that adorned his couches to wrap her in. Once he found one, he drapped it over her back, managing to get up and walk to her room.

She wanted to stay awake, she wanted to stay awake and spend the night talking to him but once the blanket draped over her back, she was good as gone.

The morning rose with its cloudy skies, the dim lighting awaking her up as she rose her head from the bed, hair made into a tangled mess. He had an arm over her, face to her back, softly sleeping. She wondered why it was so surprising to see him like that, even mob bosses sleep but he just looked so peaceful, so ... so normal. Almost as if they could be a regular couple just like everyone else. She shifted in bed, to look at him, her slight moves immediately awaking him but he chose to keep his eyes close, not wanting her to worry about waking him up.

- I know you’re awake. - she said, voice laced with sleep as she noticed his breathe pattern change as well as his eyelids twitching. - James.

- Bucky. - he corrected. - You can call me James when I’m fucking you but I prefer Bucky.

- Bucky. - she repeated. - I like that.

- Do you wanna have breakfast? - he opened his eyes. - Anything you want.

- You’re gonna cook me breakfast or are you gonna force the shops to open at ... - she looked at her watch, colour draining from her face. - 10AM. Holy shit, I’m late.

- Y/N ... - he laughed as she got out of the bed, bed sheet wrapped around her body as she searched his room for her clothing. - It’s drying in the bathroom, petal.

- I’M LATE. I’M LATE TO THE ONLY CLASS I LIKE. - she rushed over to the bathroom, almost tripping on the large sheet. Bucky stood on his side, watching her with a silly grin as she pulled the dress over her body along with her underwear. - STOP STARING, YOU’RE DRIVING.

- You’re calling the shots now? - he cocked an eyebrow at her.

- I’m late. - she kneeled on his bed, trying to push him out of it. - Bucky, c’mon.

- No, petal. You’re already late, just stay the day with me. I’ll even give you the day off.

- I have to graduate first. - she crossed her arms.

- Okay.

Bucky was quick to get dressed, grabbing his car keys from the hook on the door before taking her down to the garage and into the car. Y/N pushed down the mirror, trying to fix whatever mess he had done to her. There was not much she could do but try and comb her hair and push her dress’ neckline up to try and hide the hickeys. She kept looking at her watch, wondering if she’d make it and as he parked in front of her department’s building, she only had 5 minutes to go. It felt more like a one night stand but desperate times called for desperate measures and besides she was working this night so she could explain to him that she wasn’t trying to bail.

- I can’t drive you home tonight, petal. Gotta receive a shipping by the docks. Sam will probably drive you, I’ll speak with him at the club and I’ll let you know before I leave.

- It’s okay I can ask Pietro or Wanda.

- Go on before you’re actually late for it. - he opened her door and she sprinted like a mad woman.

As she walked into the lecture hall, most of her colleagues, including Wanda, were already sat on. She shamefully hide her head, climbing up the stairs to the middle row where Wanda had kindly saved her a seat and was probably wondering where she had been and why she hadn’t called. Once she sat, down, the questions ran down on her.

- You look like hell, Y/N. God, why do you even have a phone if you don’t call me or Pietro?

- I’m sorry, they had blocked the road.

- Did they block your phone signal?

- No. - she sighed. - Hey, you think Pietro or you can pick me up today? Mr. Barnes is receiving a shipment tonight.

- He’s receiving a shipment? Do you know where?

- Uhm ... yes.

- Good, that means you can tell your father and you can finally quit that god awful job and behave like regular Y/N.

She had forgotten. She knew where the shipment was, she had the smoking gun, she was done, right? Why did it felt so heavy? That was what she was put into his life for, to get information yet she couldn’t find herself to send the text to her father. The rest of the day she stared at her phone, at her father’s number, her fingers hovering over the keypad. She knew the answer, docks. Five letters, one word. There was only that place yet writing those five letters seemed to be the hardest thing in the world. She had time, she told herself. She had time to send her father the message so she spent the day ignoring it.

As she walked on the cobblestones that led to the bar, her resolve only broke looser. She didn’t want to send that text, he didn’t deserve that, he didn’t deserve to have her stab him in the back. She didn’t want to stab him in the back, that was not her. Maybe that was what they wanted of her but it wasn’t her and it was not going to be her. As she stepped inside the already half full bar, she turned off her phone. Nobody needs to know, nobody will know. As she told herself those words, someone pushed her arm, throwing her onto the supply cupboard. She looked up to see Edward locking the door behind them.

- What the fuck? I have a job to do. - she tried to push past him but he stood there. - What do you want?

- The waiters said they saw you get in the car with Barnes.

- So? - she crossed her arms. - He drives me home.

- I knew you shouldn’t be in the case. I mean, you’re a wannabe nurse and you think you’re in the big league.

- What is that supposed to mean? I was put up to this way before you were.

- Wonder why? You’re doing a shit job and now you’re fucking sleeping with Barnes? I always knew you got what you wanted but I never knew you were a mob boss’ whore now.

- Oh fuck off, Edward. - she tried to push him once again but he pushed her back and further into the cupboard.

- Where’s the shipment, Y/N? Do the right thing and you can go back to sucking him off.

- You can go to hell.

- WHERE IS IT? - he pushed her against the wall but she spat on his face. - Fine, you know what fine. Guys like him are never gonna go to prison, he’s just gonna buy his way out. If you want things done, do them yourself.

- Don’t do anything stupid, Edward. - she pleading, following him as he walked to the door. - You’re not gonna win. Just give up.

- I hope you fucked him goodbye. - his hand went into the hem of his pants, she knew damn well what he was about to grab and about to do. She rushed to the door but he locked it on her face. Her heart raced as she started to punch and kick the door, screaming at him to open the door.

- Bastard! - she mumbled, looking over the cupboard and at the small window up the top. There was a series of creaky shelves under them. Hopefully it was open. Carefully, she moved the stuff out the shelves and started to climb them until the last one which gave her enough room to push the window open. As she reached for the latch, the window didn’t move. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She looked around, looking for anything to break the window with but everything was merely brooms and old rags. She wrapped an old vodka smelling rag around her hand and sighed. It’s okay, you’ve seen it done in the movies besides it’s an old cupboard, old window. It’s gonna be easy. She bite her lip and swung her hand towards the glass which shattered into her hand, a few pieces lodging into her palm. It was a hole small enough for her to put her hand in and open the latch from outside. As she done it, the window creaked open and she jumped into the small space, wiggling out of it and falling onto the ground.

Once she found herself in the alleyway she ran over to the employees door, opening it and rushing into the dance floor. Her eyes scanned the room, his usual table was empty and he wasn’t either at the bar. Her best option was to try and find him before Edward did. Although she harboured a grudge against him, she could not overpower it. She mixed with the rest of the club goers trying to look for Bucky until she spotted him moving through the crowd. She pushed a few people away, trying to reach him by yelling out his name but the music was too loud. Luckily for her, the crowds were easy enough to overcome and she finally reached him, tugging onto his jacket before he could leave.

- Hey petal. You’re on your break? - he asked, smiling down at her.

- Bucky, I need to tell you something.

- What happened to you hand? - he noticed her bleeding hand. - Did you drop a bottle? Did someone hurt you?

- Bucky, wait, I ...

- BARNES! - a voice interrupted her. The crowd screamed and stepped away as Edward held a gun up. Bucky put his arm over her shoulder to push her behind him but she stepped in front of him.

The sound of the gunshot went off, everyone was screaming and running out of the club but all she could hear was a beep. Her breath seemed to falter once to quicken again as her muscles lost force and she felt herself falling. She awaited to hit the ground but someone held her.

- FUCKING KILL HIM! - she could hear Bucky’s voice in slow motion almost as everything went darker than the club she was in.

She would’ve made such a lovely bride, what a shame she’s fucked in the head

taglist: @lookiamtrying @mariamermaid @sebastianstansqueen @unmagically @buckybarnes1982 @mela-noche @lowercasegenius @randomweirdooo @projectcampbell @sebbystanlover-vk @jevans2 @hollarious @itsallyscorner @tcc-gizmachine @saiyanprincessswanie @stuckysavedmylive @vicmc624 @sebstanfan123

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rosyfingereddawnn · 3 years

Text

That’s The Way

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: none, this is kind of an introductory/fluff chapter if you will :)

Story summary: Y/N Y/L/N, an ordinary seventeen-year-old girl, gets pulled into the world of rock and roll on a fateful night at the Marquee Club in London when she experiences the musical phenomenon of the Five Live Yardbirds. She grows up fast, navigating her way through the downfall of The Yardbirds, the legendary skyrocket of Led Zeppelin, era-defining decadence instigated by the ‘60s and ‘70s mindset of free love and personal gratification, and finding the courage to express how she fell deeply in love with one of modern music’s greatest guitarists.

Author’s notes (from Molly of rebel-without-a-zeppelin): Hi everyone! A little disclaimer on my part: this is the first story I’ve ever shared for public consumption. I’ve been toying with this idea in my mind for a very long time now, and I’ve finally mustered up the courage to share it with you all. I hope you like it. I am incredibly honored to collaborate with Syd on this project; this is truly our baby, as it has a very long, detailed, intricate plot, so saddle up for lots (and lots) of drama! This is also a sloooowwwww burn, like really, really slow lol. Over the course of the story, please feel free to send me your theories and comments; I would absolutely love to read them. Please enjoy, and happy reading!

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3 May 1965

The sound of a car horn beeped incessantly from the front of Y/N’s house. Dropping her backpack down on her bedroom floor with an annoyed huff, she sprinted down the steps. She never did get enough time to prepare, and it was no different today. With her friend Carolyn in tow, Y/N made a beeline for the front door, the click-clack of her Oxford shoes pounding across the hardwood floor. Y/N’s mum, who nonchalantly strolled out of the laundry room with an armful of freshly washed and folded bath towels, leant against the doorframe.

“Now remember Y/N: no drinking, no drugs, no sex. No going home with strange musician guys, nor are you allowed to go to their hotel,” her mum instructed calmly, knowing she’d receive an eye roll from the girl. Her stern expression at home on her gracefully-aged face, the girls receive the speech they get every time they go out. “You too, C. Even though I’m not your mother, I still worry about your safety.”

Both Y/N’s mum and dad had a very protective instinct over their eldest daughter, just like their other three children. Even at Y/N’s healthy age of seventeen, she longed for the freedom and trust that her older brother had gained at her age.

“Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Carolyn replied with a little laugh.

“Mum! This is literally the fourth time I’ve been to a Yardbirds gig, and nothing bad has happened,” Y/N huffed. Her mum raised her eyebrows.

Lillian, Y/N’s little sister, walked into the foyer and surprised Y/N with a big, tight hug around her waist. Y/N gasped at the sudden contact, but chuckled when she realized it was her younger sister, and reciprocated the hug.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Y/N. Boys are icky. And stupid!” Lillian said in a whiny voice, her face muffled by being buried in Y/N’s stomach.

Y/N ruffled her sister’s muss of dirty blonde waves affectionately, rubbing her back to soothe her worries. “I promise, I will come back perfectly fine! I won’t let any boys mess with me, Lil,” Y/N said with a smile, “And when I come back, I’ll tell you everything that happened.”

Lillian gazed up at Y/N with a similar smile, her small teeth shining a bright, pearly white and her chin resting on the taller girl’s stomach. “Okay,” she said, content, before releasing from Y/N with a stuffed animal tucked under her arm.

“Where’s Charlie?” Y/N asked, hoping she could say goodbye to her younger brother before she left.

“I think he’s riding around the neighborhood on his bike with his friends,” Y/N’s mum replied with a shrug. Y/N felt a little disappointed, but she figured she’d talk to him tomorrow at breakfast about her night out.

Thomas, Y/N’s older brother, continued to honk the horn rather obnoxiously, growing quite impatient. It’s a wonder the neighbors weren’t at arms, knocking on their door. He was forced by his parents to be Y/N and Carolyn’s chauffeur to the Marquee Club in London.

“We have to go, or else Tommy will have my head,” Y/N said as she started to open the front door.

“Wait!” her mum said, sloppily placing the towels down on a nearby counter to dash to the door and give Y/N a hug and a kiss on the head goodbye. Finally pulling away her weathered hands flew to Y/N’s shoulders, and gripping them firmly, she continued, “Be good. Love you.”

“I know, I will. Love you too,” Y/N smiled, before dashing down the steps and to the passenger seat of the car. Carolyn was in quick pursuit, following her to the car and taking a seat in the back.

“It’s about time,” Tommy huffed impatiently, tapping his fingertips on the top of the steering wheel as he put the transmission into drive.

“Sorry. Mum was giving me and C a safety brief,” Y/N replied apologetically.

“Why are you two still in school uniforms?” he snorted, shifting to look over at the girls; their studious appearance of white oxford shirts, sweater vests, plaid kilts, white knee socks, and smart oxford shoes would be quite out of place among the audience at the show.

“No time to change, just like usual,” she replied, turning on the radio, soft melodies pouring out at a low volume.

The three drove in silence, except for the sound of the radio playing, until Carolyn had dozed off on the somewhat lengthy car ride. Occasional small talk between Y/N and her brother permeated the quiet that fell over the group, but it picked up when they were only a few blocks away from the venue.

“You gotta stay safe in there, Y/N,” Tommy said, looking straight ahead. His teeth clamped down sharply on his bottom lip: a dead giveaway to the nerves he must have been feeling.

“I know, Dad,” Y/N joked, punching him lightly across the shoulder. Her bright smile wavered and fell when she saw his grim expression.

“I’m serious, you know. I don’t want my sister being pestered by some wankers in a blues band.”

Y/N smirked at her brother’s sudden defensive behavior. “I can take care of myself. Trust me. This isn’t my first rodeo. You should’ve seen the first Yardbirds gig we went to. Utter chaos...” The tilt of her lips signalled that she was joking, and Tommy huffed out a laugh.

Carolyn, stretching with a grunt, had miraculously woken up just as Tommy pulled up to the front door of the Marquee. Glancing at the venue with awe dancing in their eyes, Y/N and Carolyn disembarked from the car, walking closer with the façade of calmness and competency.

“I’ll be back later to pick you girls up. Have fun, but not too much fun,” Tommy rolled his window down as he said this, winking playfully.

Y/N waved to her brother as Carolyn thanked him graciously for the ride. Arms linked, Y/N and Carolyn entered the famous Marquee. Nervousness and anticipation began to pool Y/N’s stomach as she was greeted by the decadent atmosphere of the club: the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat hung in the air as her eyes were flashed by many people mingling about, dressed in typical mod clothing. Y/N and her friend looked at each other, feeling like aliens in their intelligent dress. They tactfully made their way through the crowd as they found their way to their usual spot, a small leather-upholstered booth set against the wall near the stage.

“Today might be the day, Y/N,” Carolyn said as they settled into their seats.

“I don’t know,” she replied, smoothing out her skirt, “the idea of that is both scary and exciting to me at the same time. We’ll just roll with the punches, I guess.”

“Which Yardbird do you have your eye on?”

Y/N smirked as she thought for a moment. “Hmm...I’m not sure. I guess they’re all pretty cute in their own way. What about you?”

“Yes, I agree. But I must admit, I do have a very soft spot for Chris Dreja.”

“I’ll pray for ya, C,” Y/N chuckled.

~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, backstage, five live Yardbirds were performing some pre-show rituals in the hopes of easing the preliminary anxiousness. Jeff, Keith, and Jim were peeking out the little sliver of curtain that allowed them to see their gathering audience.

“Look! It’s those two schoolgirls again!” Jeff pointed to the two teenage girls in school uniforms, chatting in their booth waiting for the show to begin. They were huddled together in conversation, legs daintily crossed as their faint giggles floated over to them. Jim couldn’t help but smile at the sound, though he recovered quickly, not wanting his bandmates to get any ideas.

“What’s wrong with that? They must like us,” Keith replied.

“I think they’re both really pretty, especially the one with the Y/H/C hair,” Jim pointed out, trying to be as subtle as possible.

“Yeah, maybe we should invite them backstage after the show… have a nice little chat,” Jeff winked at the singer and the drummer cheekily.

After taking a final glance at the two conversing girls, the three returned to the backstage area where Paul and Chris were. Jeff immediately enlisted Giorgio, their manager, to complete the agreed-upon mission. Jeff loosely draped an arm around Giorgio’s shoulder before bestowing the request as politely as possible. Not trying to be suspiciously polite, of course, because everyone in the band and its entourage were firsthand witnesses of Jeff’s temper and stubbornness. Yikes.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to do me a favor,” Jeff said to Giorgio with a mischievous smile.

Giorgio rolled his eyes, knowing this “favor” would have to do with scouting girls from the audience. “What d’ya need, Jeff?” he sighed exhaustedly.

“Don’t complain, please,” Jeff deadpanned. “There are two pretty birds in the audience, wearing their school uniforms. They’ve been coming to our shows for a little bit now, and they seem nice—”

“You want me to bring them backstage after the show?” Giorgio interrupted, somehow telepathically knowing, by routine, what the guitarist’s request would be.

“You finish that sentence like you know what I’m about to say.”

“That’s because I do, Mr. Beck,” Giorgio retorted sarcastically, “this happens a lot more often than you think it does.”

“Whatever,” Jeff grumbled moodily, knowing he was right, before walking back to the group of musicians in preparation.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N and Carolyn continued to gossip happily about what was happening at school, not a care in the world. They felt the stares of older men in the club, who silently disapproved of their knee socks being scrunched by their ankles, because that wasn’t the “proper” thing to do. But they didn’t care. Who are they to judge?

Every teacher scolded girls at school who did the same thing, because they didn’t want their long legs to be “tempting” or “distracting” any boys. A bloody nuisance, is what it is.

The girls were snapped from their thoughts by the sound of a heavy guitar tone being blasted through the speakers in an opening riff. Their eyes were stapled, almost transfixed to the stage as they took in the five sharply-dressed men in front of them, singing their songs and playing their instruments.

As much as Carolyn enjoyed The Yardbirds and music in general, Y/N had a rather deep connection to it, odd enough as it was. She could play the piano fairly well, so she understood where these musicians were coming from cognitively and creatively. From what she’d read in magazines about current popular musicians, like The Yardbirds for example, she liked the same music they did. Y/N understood dynamics, tempo, tone, key, and musical notation, just like they did. Perhaps she’d be able to get into an intelligent musical conversation with at least one of them one day.

Two straight hours of hits, obscure songs, and blues covers from The Yardbirds’ catalogue were played for the Marquee Club patrons, hypnotizing its drunk and high onlookers with polished musicality and instrumentation.

As the final song concluded, both Y/N and Carolyn, unbeknownst to the other, felt a sinking feeling of disappointment that fell like a pit in their stomachs. They wouldn’t have the chance to meet the band. No one from the entity had approached them yet, and momentarily the five live Yardbirds would be exiting the stage for the night.

After they said their goodbyes and thanks to the crowd, they disappeared behind the curtain. The main lights of the club brightened to signal that the show was over, as the voices of all the patrons raised in rave of the spectacular show they had just witnessed.

Discouraged, but still in light spirits at what they had just seen, Y/N and Carolyn stood up from their seat and headed for the front door. Y/N expected her brother to be waiting in front; it was late, so might as well not make him wait longer than he needs to.

Y/N and Carolyn were merely a few feet from the door when Y/N felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around to see a man with a dark beard already baring a jovial tight-lipped grin at her, the girl was quite surprised, maybe a little weirded out, but she reciprocated the gesture as genuinely as she could.

“Hello sir, what can we do for you?” Y/N greeted, discreetly nudging Carolyn to help her out and become a united front with her in front of this stranger.

“Good evening ladies, I was sent by Mr. Jeff Beck to offer you an invitation backstage to hang out with the band.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped and her face broke out into an obvious mad blush, much to her dismay. She was internally screaming. The Jeff Beck had spotted them in the crowd?! This had to be a dream. Wait, this could be a complete drunken buffoon trying to trick them. Y/N remembered what her mother had said, and took the proper precautionary measure.

Y/N smiled in the most composed way she could. “Thank you for such a gracious invitation! Could I ask your name, if you don’t mind?”

“Giorgio Gomelsky, manager of The Yardbirds,” he replied, in a seemingly proud manner.

Okay, this was real. Y/N knew that Giorgio was definitely the manager’s name. She turned to Carolyn, who looked just as excited as she was.

“What are your names, dears?” Giorgio asked, pulling them out of their daze of what seemed like a fake reality.

“I’m Carolyn, and this is my friend Y/N,” Carolyn piped up, excited that she finally got an opportunity to speak to someone close to The Yardbirds.

She internally agreed to let Y/N handle the “diplomacy” part of the introduction, knowing that she was best at that. Carolyn knew her friend was quite shy, so she knew to step in when Y/N was starting to feel anxious. She noticed Y/N starting to fiddle with her fingers while talking to Giorgio in the most collected way she could muster; as excited as Y/N was, Carolyn knew she was growing very nervous.

“Well, it is certainly lovely to meet you both. So, what do you say? Would you like to meet the lads?”

After one final glance of excited mutual agreement, Carolyn replied, “Yes, we’d love to.”

Giorgio led the pair of girls back the way they came, through a sea of inebriated people, but this time through the backstage door. Y/N made an appoint to walk behind Carolyn, in an attempt to collect and relax herself. She was starting to sweat a little, her stomach doing flips and her hands becoming cold and clammy.

~~~~~~~~

“Our guests should be arriving any minute now,” Jeff said as he was placing his guitar back in its case.

Chris was standing and chatting with Paul in a corner when he turned around in surprise at the news. “Guests? What guests?”

“We had Giorgio invite two girls from the audience to come back here,” Jim replied, walking over to sit down in a metal folding chair.

“And why weren't we made aware of this?” Paul asked, as he walked to get another metal folding chair to place near Jim.

“It was their idea,” Keith replied, pointing two fingers between Jeff and Jim. Paul and Chris just nodded in recognition.

“I didn’t hear you disagree, Relf,” Jeff clapped back. He then told Chris and Keith to get some chairs for themselves and the two girls that would be walking through the door at any second.

Before Keith could respond, a couple knocks resounded in the room, signalling the arrival of the guests. Jacket lapels and ties were quickly straightened, even though each person was still glazed with quickly-drying sweat from the show they had just played, before the room fell unnaturally quiet as Giorgio opened the rather squeaky door.

The initial tension in the room that lasted a split second could be cut with a knife. Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, a cold sweat already running down her back, as five pairs of eyes landed on her, Carolyn, and Giorgio, warm smiles following suit.

She felt like internally combusting.

“Boys, this is Y/N,” Giorgio broke the momentary silence by introducing her, “and Carolyn.” Y/N smiled shyly and sent them a little wave, a dusty shade of pink seeping its way to her cheeks. Carolyn’s greeting was much more exuberant than Y/N’s, as she took the initiative to go over and shake all of their hands amiably. Y/N realized she had to follow her friend in order to make a good first impression.

Knowing that the boys wanted to spend time with the girls without being chaperoned, Giorgio left the room to attend to other business affairs.

Upon first glance, Y/N was the most beautiful girl that four of the five Yardbirds had ever seen. Perfect features, long legs, a calm, gentle, sweet demeanor… Just an absolutely angelic young woman; a vision.

Jeff had obviously recognized her beauty, from seeing her at multiple shows, but he thought she was way out of his league. He decided to focus on getting her to laugh and relax around them, because he noticed just how nervous she looked. She was turning pale right in front of his very eyes! Paul and Chris began to internally question themselves, how have I not seen this girl before? She is so gorgeous! Jim had been glancing at her sporadically throughout the show, soaking up her faraway presence. He noticed how her eyes glistened in childlike wonder as she watched them do what they did best: perform the Chicago blues.

“Well, it is very nice to meet you both,” Keith replied enthusiastically. “I’m Keith,” he alluded to himself, then pointing to the other members of the group while giving their names, “and this is Chris, Paul, Jeff, and Jim.”

“I mean, we know who you guys are, but it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” Carolyn replied. Y/N nodded in agreement.

“Come and sit down! Make yourselves comfortable. We don’t bite,” Jeff joked, motioning to the open chairs. The girls smiled and accepted his invitation, Y/N taking a seat between Jeff Beck and Jim McCarty, while Carolyn took a seat between Keith Relf and Chris Dreja. The chairs were arranged in a circular formation, so each person could talk to the other with ease.

“Tell us about yourselves!” Paul initiated, “I think Y/N should go first though, because you haven’t said too much yet,” he laughed at the last part. Y/N giggled (a little too idiotically for her own liking), but she felt herself become starstruck at how her name sounded coming from one of their voices.

Y/N clenched her cold, clammy hands in her lap as a method to ease her anxiety before starting with a smile. “Well, I’m from Saint Albans. This is our fourth time, I believe, coming to see a Yardbirds gig. Carolyn and I came to see you with Eric Clapton once, and then this is the third time with Jeff.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic! I guess I see where your favor lies in terms of guitarists,” Jeff responded playfully.

“I guess you’re right,” Y/N laughed, “I will admit that I love what you’ve done with the body of work. Clapton was a blues purist, which I respect, and he’s great, but I think your playing is much more interesting and unorthodox.”

Paul, Jim, and Jeff all raised their eyebrows at Y/N’s comment. They were impressed with how she understood their musicality.

“Are you a musician?” Jim asked Y/N.

“Not in your sense of the word,” Y/N chuckled, “But I’ve been playing the piano for most of my life, so I understand music. Probably more than your average female audience member,” she added with a grin.

“That’s so cool! Are you classically trained, or is it just a hobby?”

“Classically trained,” Y/N admitted to Jim shyly.

“Oh wow, so you’re the real deal,” Jeff added.

“I’m not a professional, so I’d say no,” Y/N laughed.

“You probably know more about music than all five of us combined!” Paul said.

“Well, I know that you know much more about the blues than me!” Y/N answered playfully.

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Paul smiled at Y/N. She cursed herself in her mind for feeling weak at Paul’s simple sentiment, but tried to keep her composure as best she could.

The four of them, especially Jeff and Y/N, began to bond over their love for different musicians. Y/N expressed her love for Chet Atkins and his fingerpicking style, Scotty Moore’s lively soloing style, and Robert Johnson’s slide technique and open tunings, rendering the three men shocked at her knowledge on the subject. Y/N loved how easily Jeff could make her laugh, and how interested Paul and Jim were at whatever she had to say, significant or insignificant. Chris Dreja, who was in a little group with Keith and Carolyn, occasionally spaced out of his conversation to hear what Y/N had to say.

They bonded for about an hour and a half about everything and nothing, until Y/N abruptly realized that Tommy was probably waiting for a while outside for her and her friend. She apologized to the band profusely for such a sudden departure as she and Carolyn walked towards the door.

“Say you’ll come visit us again after the show?” Jeff called to Y/N as she turned towards him in the doorframe.

“Absolutely,” she smiled brightly.

---------

Thanks so much, hope you enjoy!!

Taglist: @y0uth--anasia @reincarnated70sbaby

#jimmy page #led zeppelin #that’s the way #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page x reader #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic

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