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richincolor · 3 months

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We have a whopping FOURTEEN books on our radar for today! Check them out--you've got great odds you'll find something to add to your TBR list!

All This Twisted Glory (This Woven Kingdom #3) by Tahereh Mafi HarperCollins

As the long-lost heir to the Jinn throne, Alizeh has finally found her people—and she might’ve found her crown. Cyrus, the mercurial ruler of Tulan, has offered her his kingdom in a twisted exchange: one that would begin with their marriage and end with his murder. Cyrus’s dark reputation precedes him; all the world knows of his blood-soaked past. Killing him should be easy—and accepting his offer might be the only way to fulfill her destiny and save her people. But the more Alizeh learns of him, the more she questions whether the terrible stories about him are true. Ensnared by secrets, Cyrus has ached for Alizeh since she first appeared in his dreams many months ago. Now that he knows those visions were planted by the devil, he can hardly bear to look at her—much less endure her company. But despite their best efforts to despise each other, Alizeh and Cyrus are drawn together over and over with an all-consuming thirst that threatens to destroy them both. Meanwhile, Prince Kamran has arrived in Tulan, ready to exact revenge… Layered with exquisite tension and heart-stopping romance, All This Twisted Glory is the explosive third book in the captivating, bestselling This Woven Kingdom series.

ASAP by Axie Oh HarperTeen

Sori has worked her whole life to become a K-pop idol, until she realizes she doesn’t want a life forever in the spotlight. But that’s not actually up to Sori—she’s caught between her exacting mother’s entertainment company and her father’s presidential aspirations. And as the pressure to keep her flawless public image grows, the last person she should be thinking about is her ex-boyfriend. Nathaniel is off limits—she knows this. A member of one of the biggest K-pop bands in the world and forbidden from dating, he isn’t any more of an option now than he was two years ago. Still, she can’t forget that their whirlwind romance was the last time she remembers being really happy. Or that his family welcomed her into their home when she needed it most. . . . So when Nathaniel finds himself rocked by scandal, Sori offers him a hideaway with her. And back in close quarters, it’s hard to deny their old feelings. But when Sori gets an opportunity to break free from her parent’s expectations, she will have to decide: Is her future worth sacrificing for a second chance at love?

Bless the Blood: A Cancer Memoir by Walela Nehanda Kokila

A searing debut YA poetry and essay collection about a Black cancer patient who faces medical racism after being diagnosed with leukemia in their early twenties, for fans of Audre Lorde's The Cancer Journals and Laurie Halse Anderson's Shout . When Walela is diagnosed at twenty-three with advanced stage blood cancer, they're suddenly thrust into the unsympathetic world of tubes and pills, doctors who don’t use their correct pronouns, and hordes of "well-meaning" but patronizing people offering unsolicited advice as they navigate rocky personal relationships and share their story online. But this experience also deepens their relationship to their ancestors, providing added support from another realm. Walela's diagnosis becomes a catalyst for their self-realization. As they fill out forms in the insurance office in downtown Los Angeles or travel to therapy in wealthier neighborhoods, they begin to understand that cancer is where all forms of their oppression Disabled. Fat. Black. Queer. Nonbinary. In Bless the A Cancer Memoir, the author details a galvanizing account of their survival despite the U.S. medical system, and of the struggle to face death unafraid.

Bright Red Fruit by Safia Elhillo Make Me a World

An unflinching, honest novel in verse about a teenager's journey into the slam poetry scene and the dangerous new relationship that could threaten all her dreams. From the award-winning poet and author of HOME IS NOT A COUNTRY. Bad girl. No matter how hard Samira tries, she can’t shake her reputation. She’s never gotten the benefit of the doubt—not from her mother or the aunties who watch her like a hawk. Samira is determined to have a perfect summer filled with fun parties, exploring DC, and growing as a poet—until a scandalous rumor has her grounded and unable to leave her house. When Samira turns to a poetry forum for solace, she catches the eye of an older, charismatic poet named Horus. For the first time, Samira feels wanted. But soon she’s keeping a bigger secret than ever before—one that that could prove her reputation and jeopardize her place in her community. In this gripping coming-of-age novel from the critically acclaimed author Safia Elhillo, a young woman searches to find the balance between honoring her family, her artistry, and her authentic self.

Daniel, Deconstructed by James Ramos Inkyard Press

A nerdy high schooler learns to embrace his main-character energy in this witty and heart-healing ode to movie tropes, meet-cutes, and LGBTQ+ love. Photographer and film buff Daniel Sanchez learned a long time ago that the only way to get by in an allistic world is to mask his autism and follow the script. Which means he knows that boisterous, buff, and beautiful soccer superstars like his best friend, Mona Sinclair, shouldn’t be wasting time hanging out with introverts who prefer being behind the camera. So when Daniel meets a new classmate, Gabe Mendes, who is tall, mysterious, nonbinary, and—somehow—as cool as Mona, Daniel knows exactly how this is going to play out. Mona and Gabe will meet cute, win their nominations for Homecoming Court, and ride off into the sunset together. Daniel just needs to do a little behind-the-scenes directing. But matchmaking means stepping into the mystifying and illogical world of love, dating, and relationships, where nothing is as it seems and no one knows their lines. And when Daniel finds himself playing a starring role in this romance, he’ll question everything he thought he knew about himself and his place in the world.

The Girl, the Ring, & the Baseball Bat by Camille Gomera-Tavarez Levine Querido

Rosie: Capricorn. Does great in class. Wants nothing more than to get into the prestigious Innovation Technical Institute and kiss this awful school goodbye. Her talisman: a magical jacket from her mother’s past that gets people to do whatever she says. Caro: Leo. Rosie’s older sister. Always been closer to their estranged father – and always butted heads more with their strict mother. A trip to Dominican Republic for her father’s wedding leads her deep into family history that clears up any illusions about her parents she’s ever had. Her talisman: a baseball bat that fixes whatever it breaks. Zeke: Certified Triple Pisces. Up in cold-ass Jersey City living with his aunt after his grandmother dies and his father moves to London to take care of his mother. He crushes on EVERYone – he knows he’ll find happiness in love, and maybe a way out of this depression. His talisman: a manifestation stone that will make anyone fall in love with him. Rosie, Caro, and Zeke – and their talismans – find themselves intertwined in a magical, hilarious, and whip-smart Outsiders for the modern day, written by Camille Gomera-Tavarez, a 2022 Publishers Weekly Flying Start.

How the Boogeyman Became a Poet by Tony Keith Katherine Tegen Books

Poet, writer, and hip-hop educator Tony Keith Jr. makes his debut with a powerful YA memoir in verse, tracing his journey from being a closeted gay Black teen battling poverty, racism, and homophobia to becoming an openly gay first-generation college student who finds freedom in poetry. Perfect for fans of Elizabeth Acevedo, George M. Johnson, and Jacqueline Woodson. Tony dreams about life after high school, where his poetic voice can find freedom on the stage and page. But the Boogeyman has been following Tony since he was six years old. First, the Boogeyman was after his Blackness, but Tony has learned It knows more than Tony wants to be the first in his family to attend college, but there’s no path to follow. He also has feelings for boys, desires that don’t align with the script he thinks is set for him and his girlfriend, Blu. Despite a supportive network of family and friends, Tony doesn’t breathe a word to anyone about his feelings. As he grapples with his sexuality and moves from high school to college, he struggles with loneliness while finding solace in gay chat rooms and writing poetry. But how do you find your poetic voice when you are hiding the most important parts of yourself? And how do you escape the Boogeyman when it's lurking inside you?

I Hope This Doesn't Find You by Ann Liang Scholastic Press

Sadie Wen is perfect on paper: school captain, valedictorian, and a "pleasure to have in class." It’s not easy, but she has a trick to keep her model-student smile plastered on her face at all times: she channels all her frustrations into her email drafts. She'd never send them of course -- she'd rather die than hurt anyone's feelings -- but it's a relief to let loose on her power-hungry English teacher or a freeloading classmate taking credit for Sadie's work. All her most vehemently worded emails are directed at her infuriating cocaptain, Julius Gong, whose arrogance and competitive streak have irked Sadie since they were kids. "You're attention starved and self-obsessed and unbearably vain . . . I really hope your comb breaks and you run out of whatever expensive hair products you've been using to make your hair appear deceptively soft..." Sadie doesn't have to hold back in her emails, because nobody will ever read them... that is, until they're accidentally sent out. Overnight, Sadie’s carefully crafted, conflict-free life is turned upside down. It's her worst nightmare -- now everyone at school knows what she really thinks of them, and they're not afraid to tell her what they really think of her either. But amidst the chaos, there's one person growing to appreciate the "real" Sadie -- Julius, the only boy she's sworn to hate...

Infinity Alchemist (Infinity Alchemist #1) by Kacen Callendar Tor Teen

For Ash Woods, practicing alchemy is a crime. Only an elite few are legally permitted to study the science of magic―so when Ash is rejected by the Lancaster Mage’s College, he takes a job as the school’s groundskeeper instead, forced to learn alchemy in secret. When he’s discovered by the condescending and brilliant apprentice Ramsay Thorne, Ash is sure he's about to be arrested―but instead of calling the reds, Ramsay surprises Ash by making him an offer: Ramsay will keep Ash's secret if he helps her find the legendary Book of Source, a sacred text that gives its reader extraordinary power. As Ash and Ramsay work together and their feelings for each other grow, Ash discovers their mission is more dangerous than he imagined, pitting them against influential and powerful alchemists―Ash’s estranged father included. Ash’s journey takes him through the cities and wilds across New Anglia, forcing him to discover his own definition of true power and how far he and other alchemists will go to seize it.

No Time Like Now by Naz Kutub Bloomsbury

It's been one year since Hazeem's father passed away unexpectedly, and one year since Hazeem got his special ability: He can grant any living thing extra time. Since then, he's been randomly granting people more years to live: his old friend Holly, his study buddy Yamany, his crush Jack. . . . The only problem is, none of them wanted to spend any of that time with Hazeem. Now, Hazeem spends most of his days with his grandmother. When she experiences a heart attack, Hazeem is quick to use his power to save her--until Time themself appears and tells Hazeem he has accrued a time debt, having given away more life than he has left to live and putting the entire timeline in serious danger of collapse. In order to save the timeline and himself, Hazeem must take back some of the life he has granted other people. Suddenly, Hazeem is on a journey through and against time, but as he confronts the events of the past, he must confront the mistakes he made along the way. Hazeem will come to realize that when it comes to time, quality is more important to quantity--but is it too late to reclaim the life he's given away so he can really start living? No Time Like Now is a timely twist on A Christmas Carol that takes readers on a thought-provoking adventure, asking what matters most in life.

Out of Body by Nia Davenport Balzer + Bray

A high-stakes, propulsive YA thriller with a body-swap twist thoughtfully exploring themes of friendship and identity, perfect for fans of Tiffany D. Jackson. Seventeen-year-old Megan Allen has been jumping from friend group to friend group in her high school, trying on identities like outfits. Nothing ever seems to fit—until she meets LC, the adventurous, charismatic girl who appears at her favorite coffee shop one day like magic. Finally, Megan feels like she’s becoming the person she’s meant to be: someone like LC. On the night of their friendiversary, what was supposed to be a bonding experience ends in a waking nightmare. Suddenly, Megan is no longer herself. Too late, she realizes that LC has secrets—dangerous ones. Betrayed by her best friend, thrust into another girl’s life, and targeted by LC’s enemies, she must claim what makes Megan Megan to get her life back . . . or die trying.

Pangu's Shadow by Karen Bao Carolrhoda Lab

There are no second chances in the Pangu Star System. Ver and Aryl, apprentices at the most prestigious biology lab among the system’s moons, know this better than anyone. They’ve left behind difficult pasts and pinned their hopes for the future on Cal, their brilliant but difficult boss. But one night while working late in the lab, they find Cal sprawled on the floor, dead. Murdered. And they immediately become the prime suspects. Their motives seem obvious. Ver, who left her home moon to study the life-threatening disease wracking her body, had a hopeless attachment to Cal that could’ve become twisted by jealousy. Aryl, on the other hand, clashed with workaholic Cal because she valued more in her life besides research. To clear their names, Ver and Aryl put aside their mutual suspicion and team up to investigate Cal’s death. As they search for the real murderer, they uncover secrets that have shaped all of Pangu’s moons… and must decide what kind of future they really want.

Relit: 16 Latinx Remixes of Classic Stories edited by Sandra Proudman Inkyard Press

These sixteen stories by award-winning and bestselling YA authors center a Latinx point of view in an empowering anthology that reimagines classics through fantasy, science fiction, and with a dash of magic, for fans of A PHOENIX FIRST MUST BURN and RECLAIM THE STARS In classic stories remixed, Latinx characters take center stage Pride and Prejudice is launched into outer space, Frankenstein is plunged into the depths of the ocean, and The Great Gatsby floats to an island off the coast of Costa Rica. A shape-shifter gives up her life to save the boy she loves from an evil bruja. La Ciguapa covets a little mermaid’s heart of gold. Two star-crossed teens fall in love while the planet burns around them. Whether characters fall in love, battle foes, or grow through grief, each story will empower readers to see themselves as the heroes of the stories that make our world.

You're Breaking my Heart by Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich Levine Querido

Harriet Adu knows that her brother's death is her fault. I mean, it's not actually her fault, but it still kinda is, isn't it? She would do anything to live in a world where she could take back what she said that morning. Then a strange girl shows up at Harriet's high school – a girl who loves the same weird books Harriet does, who doesn't vibe with anyone at school the same way Harriet does – and that different world suddenly seems possible. The girl speaks of a place underneath the subways of New York, where people like them can go and find a home. A place away from the world of high school, grief, cool people, and depression. A place where one may be able to bend the lines of reality and get a second chance at being a better person. Will Harriet open the door? With You're Breaking My Heart , award-winning author Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich offers a remarkable speculative novel that will hit home for anyone who yearns for that one chance to do things over.

#new releases #all this twisted glory #asap #bless the blood #bright red fruit #daniel deconstructed #the girl the ring and the baseball bat #how the boogeyman became a poet #i hope this doesn't find you #infinity alchemist #no time like now #out of body #pangu's shadow #relit #you're breaking my heart

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lip-rings-and-quiffs · 1 year

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Luke being a dork is the reason I’m alive ahhh🥹😭❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

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spaghettiposts · 5 months

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Unspoken Truths

Summery: You and Wanda have been friends for years, but never once has she showed up at your doorstep in this state. Pregnant, alone, and hurt. You take her in and you both dive into the difficulties of pregnancy, and hiding feelings.

Warnings: Pregnancy, Dickhead Vision, Friends to lovers, Attempts at comedy, Reader being a sweetheart like always, Mutual Pinning, Faint talks of Abortion, talks of nausea and vomiting.

Words: 4k

There was a knock at the door. Which was weird since it was- what time was it?

Your arm reached for your phone resting on the bedside table. 2:04 am. Your brows furrowed in confusion, feeling discomfort. Who would be knocking at your door at 2 in the morning? Wiping your eyes you rose to your feet, questioning if this was really worth getting up for.

Slowly you found your courage, and a baseball bat in your hands. You stumbled through the hallway, trying to wake yourself up to face the potential threat at your door. You felt like you were walking right into a classic horror scene, was it Ghostface maybe? Nah he’d call, you think.

Through the peephole you saw the last person you’d ever expect at this ungodly hour.

“Wanda?” You yawned, hand still on the door. “It’s 2 in the morn- Woah.” You grunted in surprise as her arms wrapped around your waist, instinctively you wrapped your arms around her too. Your surprise quickly shifted into concern at her small sniffles, the brunette tightly gripping at your shirt. “Wanda? What’s wrong?”

The girl in your arms said nothing, merely shaking her head against your shirt. You took that as your cue to close the door behind you, leading Wanda inside. Not once did you separate from her, allowing her to cling onto you. Despite the circumstances you couldn’t help the blush from rising.

Unfortunately you don’t dwell on how nice it feels to be hugging Wanda, not now, not when she’s still crying. Removing an arm around her, you place it on the small of her back. “Why don’t we go sit on the couch?”

It’s then that Wanda realizes her current position, she takes a shuddering breath, agreeing with a nod of her head. You ignore the flutter in your chest from the way her grip tightened on your forearm as you lead the way.

When you sit on the couch Wanda follows suit, sitting a safe distance away from you. You figure she’s composing her thoughts from the way she plays with the rings on her fingers.

Without thinking you reach for her hand, missing the way her breath hitches from the contact. “What’s wrong Wanda? You can tell me.”

The brunette looks up at you through tearful eyes, she only feels herself tear up further by the look you give her. An adoring look, a soft comforting smile. It hurts to look at, it hurts even more when your eyebrows furrow.

“You don’t have to talk about it if it’s bothering you so much…” You add, she’s quick to wipe her eyes and take a deep breath.

“Y/n, I’m pregnant.” She sighs out, feeling some relief. She cringes at the way your eyes widen in surprise. Now you were certainly awake.

Out of all the things Wanda would say, that was certainly not one you would’ve predicted. Pregnant. Of course you could see Wanda being a mom but you recalled her mentioning how she’d like to finish college first.

Clearly…that didn’t happen.

“I just found out.” Wanda let out one of many sighs to come, rubbing her swollen eyes with her hoodie sleeves. She leaned back on the couch, giving you a forced smile.

You remained flabbergasted. Pregnant.

Wanda was pregnant. And came to you. For comfort? Advice? A secret revelation that your love for her was strong enough to get her pregnant? That last one was still part of your sleepy brain talking.

You had many questions, the most important one was where was the father? You assumed Vision was the father, at least. Even if part of you didn’t like that idea so much.

Taking in consideration how the brunette arrived at your house, with red bloodshot eyes, and tear stains on her cheeks from crying so much. You worded your next question carefully. “I’m assuming it’s bad?”

A watery laugh escapes her lips, she shakes her head in disbelief. “Bad is an understatement.” And although she’s laughing, her eyes continue to water until she’s tired of pretending everything’s going okay. Her crying turns to sobs, leaning against you for support again. This time you don’t disconnect, letting her rest her weight on you.

You stare up at the ceiling, Wanda laying on your chest having fallen fast asleep. The couch is comfortable enough to make you feel better, but not enough to silence your worries for the woman on top of you. Unsure of what to think you simply conclude it’s best if you don’t, not right now.

Letting out a deep breath, you close your eyes, tightening your arms around the girl.

Tomorrow, tomorrow you could talk about it.

/-/

It was tomorrow, and you were dreading talking about it. It’s not even yours, chill out, you reminded yourself. First thing you woke up to was an empty couch, with just you laying on it. Where was Wanda? Rubbing your eyes to wake up fully you noticed the small sticky note on your arm.

Turning it around revealed Wanda’s whereabouts.

I wanted to make you breakfast, so I went to the market. Your pantry sucks ♥️

Okay, breakfast. You loved Wanda’s meals, you figured the least you could do was clean up the kitchen for her. Forcing yourself to get up you threw your arms over your head, letting your back pop. Looking towards the kitchen in all honesty it didn’t look too bad.

Just some pots that needed to be cleaned, remove the grease. A bag of flour on the counter…you didn’t quite remember why and how that was there. And a sock on the stovetop, you held it up in disgust. When did that get there?

Feeling embarrassed for yourself, you got to work. Quickly. Socks were placed in the hamper. Flour, back in the pantry in its designated compartment. Then you dropped some flour, falling all over yourself and the items around you.

“Great…” you muttered, eying all the powder on the floor.

Sweeping it is.

Aside from the mess, and making more of a mess things went quite smoothly. You were satisfied with your work, the kitchen looked like a kitchen again. However pots still remained, making quick work of them you rinsed them off.

Not noticing how the front door opened and a certain brunette looked your way. She smiled fondly at the small cusses you let out, shaking your hand from the hot water. Carefully she placed down all the grocery bags, a little louder than she intended.

“Oh shit!” You gasped, dropping the pot. “Wanda! You scared me.” You chuckled, turning off the tap, you could finish washing that later.

“You bought a lot…” You pointed out, drying your hands. Six paper bags were on the table, you were very glad you took time to clean it.

Wanda snorted, unloading the frozen products from one bag. “Y/n you didn’t even have tomatoes. Absolutely no produce.”

You rolled your eyes. You never cooked much, tomatoes would’ve gone bad under your care. Wanda on the other hand lived for cooking. A perfect balance in your opinion, she could cook, and you could taste. You walked over, taking the frozen foods from her hands to put them away, ignoring the pointed look.

She muttered something about your organizational skills—lack of. Probably a complaint.

“How much was it?” You asked from the freezer.

Does cheese go in there?

“It’s on me.” She shrugged, opening the onions and placing them in the basket. Her nose crinkled watching you attempt to be useful, gently her fingers wrapped around your wrist, taking the cheese away and putting it in the fridge.

You let out a shaky exhale from the contact, watching her walk away. Shaking off the feeling you remember her words, scrunching your face. “No Wanda, how much?” Pulling out your wallet you handed her $120 “Here.”

Wanda laughed, pushing your hand away “No. It’s on me. For last night.”

“Seriously?” You scoffed not believing it, waving the money at her. If she wouldn’t take it you knew you’d have to put it in her purse when she wasn’t looking. Like usual. “Well at least let me cook if you’re not gonna take it.”

“I said I was making breakfast!” She whined. Cute.

You pouted at your friend, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “Yeah but I want to do something…”

Wanda smiled, placing a hand on your forearm. “You’ve done enough for me.” She said, leaning up to place a small peck on your cheek. “Thank you Y/n.”

Your breath caught in your throat, knowing you didn’t win this battle. Of course not, she cheated, but she didn’t know that. She’s with Vision, having no clue of the effects she has on you. You still felt hot on the inside, and were probably blushing on the outside too.

Damnit Y/n pull it together, she’s pregnant and needs your support. Not your gayness.

Once everything was put away, mainly Wanda doing the work and correcting whatever you did wrong. She pushed you down on the chair, telling you to sit while she cooked. Then you could talk, talk.

Right, the talk.

Fuck.

You wondered why you were still so nervous. Around Wanda? Well that one was given. But a pregnant Wanda? That felt…odd. Nevertheless you gave her, her space not wanting to overwhelm the pregnant person.

She didn’t look pregnant…obviously. She just found out…hasn't even been a month. God was it hot in this room? Or were you just sweating? Nervous.

“It is Visions.” You turned your head to look at Wanda. She spoke calmly with a tense figure. She flipped the bacon, turning her eyes to you. “And- You know I didn’t want…kids right now but things happen. We’ve talked about it before and Vision said he’d love that.”

You tilted your head, knowing there was more to it.

She let out a shaky breath “After college, he's still building his business a-and he said he doesn’t have time to raise a family. He wants nothing to do with them but I-“

“Abortion isn’t…?”

“No.” She said firmly, turning off the stove, using her sleeves to wipe her blurred eyes. “Your bacon might be a little salty by the way.” She smiled sadly, handing you a plate with two pancakes.

Seeing past the smile, you squeezed her arm in understanding, grabbing the plate from her hands. She sat down across from you, eating from her own plate giving you the opportunity to do the same.

“These are great Wands.” You mumbled after swallowing your food, wiping your mouth. “You’d be a good mom.” Digging your fork into the pancakes for more. They were truly delicious, you don’t think you’d ever get used to how spectacular she made them.

Wanda gave you a scrunched look, a sheepish smile on her lips. “You’re just saying that.” She shrugged it off, ignoring the way it made her feel.

“I'm not though. You’re kind, patient, compassionate, giving, and understanding. Aren't those motherly qualities?” You teased, though your tone remained reassuring.

Still Wanda remained in disbelief, shaking her head lightly letting out a breathy laugh “I’m just not sure where to go from here. I’m keeping them.” She stared at you, seriously, as if you would try to change her mind.

“But that’s all I know.” She rubbed her head with her hands, feeling frustrated. She had no plan.

You reached over for Wanda’s hand, rubbing soft circles with your thumb. “It’s okay, we can figure it out together.”

Her mouth curved into a smile, looking at both of your hands. Together, that was a nice word. Then she took in what you said, her head tilting to the side. “We?”

Wanda’s smile turned into a teasing one, as you stammered over your words, tensing your hand from their ministrations. “Well yeah I mean since Vision isn’t really in the picture and you shared the apartment with him I’m assuming- offering if you wanted to stay with me.” You bit the inside of your cheek.

Smooth.

“It was just a thought I had…” You finished, feeling intimidated by her gaze. Your heart pounded against your chest, waiting for her answer. You had basically just proposed she move in with you, with a kid. Like couples do. With a kid.

The more you thought about it the more you wanted her to say yes. You wanted to care for her, god knows she needed it. An idea came into your head about rearranging the guest bedroom into Wanda’s, only if she said yes- god we’re getting ahead of ourselves what if she says n-

“Yes.” She blurted, squeezing your hand in excitement, a little harder than intended.

“Wait- yes?”

“Yes! Oh my god yes,” She practically squealed, standing up from her seat to pace. “I mean I was also thinking about where I’d go…I’m not ready to tell my parents, you know how they feel about pregnancy before marriage, and Pietro already knows but he’s barely thriving.” She gestured with her hands, clasping them together and looking at you expectantly.

You nodded, growing even more excited with her. “Then it’s settled, you’ll stay here.” You beamed up at the brunette. She was quick to pull you out of your chair with a toothy grin, pulling you into a hug.

You both sighed at the contact, holding each other tighter.

“Thank you, again.” She mumbled, nuzzling further into your neck. You could only smile, what else could you do? This girl was amazing, you squeezed her back in response.

“It’s no problem, I’d love having you here. And the kid, or kids? Wouldn’t it be crazy if you had twins- worse triplets.” You mumbled to yourself, Wanda giggled.

Maybe Wanda would need help moving in. Getting her stuff, avoiding Vision. You thought to yourself about skipping work for the day- maybe a week. The guest bedroom had the essentials, but not anything baby related…

As you continued rambling on about the move, Wanda sighed, tugging you closer with a loving smile on her face. Then it dawned on her, was she in love with her best friend? Her eyes widened at the realization, trying to bury her panic and listen to your voice instead.

You raised a hand to your chin, not noticing how tense she had become. “I think I could skip work today and go to the hardware store. We might need a crib, the guest bedroom is yours but the baby gosh it needs its space too-“

/-/

The move had gone smoothly, a little too smoothly. Wanda insisted you stay outside the door to Visions apartment while she took care of things. Reluctantly you agreed standing outside waiting, only coming in when Wanda signaled for you to come in.

His apartment was quite nice, you could see why Wanda liked it so much. Unsurprisingly his home was decorated with small luxuries, perks of being a Stark.

Boxes after boxes went by packed, you insisted Wanda do the lighter loads, not wanting her to hurt her back. And before noon all of Wanda’s stuff was ready to go, no Vision in sight. He must’ve been busy today, Wanda only muttering something about his Chess club.

Not wanting to stay any longer you packed up the truck, heading to your place. So in short, yes, everything was going great. Wanda made herself an even more important figure in your life, you didn’t think that was possible. Although she had a way of proving you wrong.

She fell quickly into your daily routine, and so easily too. Every morning she’d make you coffee for work, and when she was feeling sick you made her breakfast in return. Wanda had been getting sick a lot more than usual, you assumed it was morning sickness. If only you had realized sooner how bad it had gotten.

Wanda could not sleep.

There were days when she’d have nightmares as a kid that prevented her from sleeping, often nightmares of a bomb being dropped on her house. Nights waiting up for Vision where she couldn’t sleep in hopes he’d return soon. Many times in her life Wanda found it difficult to sleep, this time the horrors of pregnancy guiding her to insomnia.

Until she felt that familiar feeling again, nausea. Quickly she threw the covers off herself, booking it towards the bathroom. Wanda was so grateful your guest bedroom had a bathroom connected to it, it had given her more privacy and spared her the embarrassment.

Her fingertips barely grazed on the door to close it before she was kneeling on the floor by the toilet, emptying the compartments in her stomach.

Hunched over on the toilet she didn’t realize how much time had passed, time passed slowly for her during this part. All she remembered was the door creaking a little and her hair being collected into a ponytail.

Wanda swore she could hear your voice, she preferred to focus on how nice your hand felt rubbing on her back, how soothing it felt. Your touch brought her back, wiping the side of her lips she turned to meet your concerned eyes.

Only turning more concerned by the look of exhaustion Wanda held. Words weren’t necessary to communicate where Wanda would be staying that night, or any other nights. Really, as Wanda was pulled up to her feet, and guided to your bedroom she found herself unwilling to care. You kissed her forehead so tenderly whispering goodnight that made Wanda realize it wasn’t so bad.

Sleeping in your arms was worth a little sickness.

/-/

“Twins.” You heard Wanda mutter from beside, laying on the bed. You couldn’t quite decipher her tone, but her squeeze on your hand made you feel uneasy. Not wanting to overwhelm her, you decided to keep silent, biting the inside of your cheek.

Weeks had flown by pretty fast, Wanda being on her 15th. Poor girl was already feeling the pain of carrying not one but two kids in her stomach. She’d often ask you to hold her stomach which you easily complied too.

The doctor turned in his chair, away from the monitor looking at you both with a grin. “Yep! Looks like two healthy babies, would you like to know the gender?” He asked.

Your eyes glanced at Wanda, her face indifferent. Thankfully you caught the slight quiver of her lips letting you know all you needed to.

“Uh no. Thank you Doctor Stephen but I think” She squeezed your hand again. “…we’re fine for now.” You mustered up a polite smile.

He nodded his head, mirroring the same smile “Of course! I’ll just go put this in your file and clean things up then you’re good to go.” He tossed his gloves in the bin, finally leaving you two alone.

You sucked your teeth, hearing the door click shut. Knowing Wanda, she was never used to change even though throughout her childhood all the brunette did was suffer through it. She liked to be in control, prepared for what to expect.

Now it seemed you were expecting two.

You let out a small noise as your back hit the chair next to her side. Deciding to break the silence, you spoke calmly, “So twins, I guess that means we might need another crib.”

Her eyes only twitched in response, barely acknowledging the way you tried to subtly cheer her up. Make her feel this wasn’t a sudden change she wasn’t prepared for. The thought of another kid shook Wanda, it made her feel nervous. She fidgeted from her place, picking at the bedsheets.

Wanda shook her head, letting out a sigh. She took her hand off yours, using them to rub her temple. “God I- this wasn’t supposed to happen. Y/n I-“ Her throat closed up, she hated the way her immediate response was to cry, tears starting to prickle at her eyes. She hated even more how your face softened, “I can barely fathom one kid, now I’m supposed to mother two.”

Her head hung lowly as small tears started to stream down her cheeks. Not wanting you to see her that way she tried her best to turn away only for you to grab her cheeks with both hands, thumbs rubbing soft circles against her skin. Wanda let out a choked sob, staring at you so hopelessly. The sight broke your heart.

“Wanda hey, it’s okay.” You whispered.

“No Y/n I just- two. That’s two new people coming into your home, and me included- I can’t do this to you. You don’t deserve it.” She croaked out, sniffling between words.

You scrunch your face in protest, giving her a stern shake of your head. “Wanda you’ve always been welcome in my home, pregnant or not and it’s not just mine now it’s yours too. I want to help you.” You affirmed, moving your hands to wipe at her tears before coming down to hold her own.

“Why?” She asked.

“Because I care about you, and I love you.” You confessed, the words coming out with more meaning than you intended. Wanda stared up at you in adoration, her eyes crinkling, and a small blush dusting her cheeks. It was then you noticed how close you were, how close Wanda's face was to your own. Feeling overwhelmed by her stare, you looked away, taking a couple steps back. “And I love them too, whatever they are…”

Missing the disappointed look on her face.

Leaning back into the bed, Wanda turns her head to look at you, and if you were looking back you would’ve seen the loving look on her face “I really don’t deserve a friend like you.” She said softly, her voice so fragile.

Then you turned back this time, meeting her gaze, her words registering in your head. Quickly your face turned into a frown, “Don’t say that.”

Ignoring your words Wanda took a hold of your hand. A gesture that came so naturally now, both of you latching onto each other, wanting to feel one another. “I love you too, so much detka.”

More than you realize.

/-/

“Y/n.” Wanda murmured hurriedly, shaking at your arm. “Detka, wake up.”

Letting out a snort, you woke up with a cough, turning away to cover yourself. Your eyes fluttered wide open, wrestling with the sheets in a panic, “Huh? Yeah- Wands? What's wrong, are they here?”

A small smile crept up her lips at the mention of the twins, “No silly, I'm just…hungry again.” She whispered, turning away from your gaze in embarrassment.

“Again?” You clarified.

“Yeah…sorry.” She chuckled awkwardly.

Leaning on your elbows for support you lifted yourself up, sitting up. Scratching the back of your head you turned to look at your clock. Naturally it was 2 am, usually the time when Wanda would get hungry.

“No, no, that's fine.” You muttered hoarsely, clearing your throat. “I don’t mind, what are you craving?”

“Steves burgers…” She beamed.

“Steves? Okay I’ll get you some, with onions or without?” You said as you walked towards the closet, shrugging on your jacket.

“With, and grilled please.”

“Okay, yeah.” You hummed, slipping on your shoes. “I’ll uh be back try to get some sleep yeah? It's pretty late.” Kneeling up from the floor you reached for your wallet, stuffing it in your pockets.

Wanda made a disagreeing grunt but pulled the sheets back on herself anyway. “I guess.”

You nodded, giving her a sheepish smile. Grabbing your keys from the nightstand you made your way to the door, a small tug on your jacket stopping you. Curiously you turned around to meet Wanda, tilting your head in question. Her hand traveled up your forearm, pulling you down to press a lingering kiss on your cheek.

“Stay safe, and put on your glasses when you drive. Your astigmatism gets bad at this hour.” She husked out, letting you go.

Your breath catches in your throat, not trusting your words you nod again. Stumbling through a few items you rush towards the door, leaving with a small goodbye unsure why Wanda was teasing you. What was that?

/-/

“Hey.” You said, a surprised look on your face as you closed the door behind you. Wanda gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes from the dimly lit dining room. She was sitting comfortably in the chair, wearing one of your hoodies.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting, it’s really late.” Checking at the clock once again you confirmed your suspicions, you assumed perhaps she’d enjoy her burger in bed like she always does. This time however Wanda had different plans, fiddling with her sleeves.

“You know I can’t sleep without you.” She retorted, gazing into your eyes “I like it when you’re here.” She confesses profoundly.

You give her a sheepish smile, unsure what to say. The look in her eyes does nothing but make you even more nervous, what was going on with her? “I like it when you’re here too. Is everything okay?”

Wanda lets out a sigh, you choose to ignore it thinking she’s probably starving by now. You place the plastic bag on the table, taking out the bags and giving Wanda her burger. A number 2 with grilled onions, two pickles, and no cheese. “And I got you these.” You slide the container to her.

Wanda gives you a questioning look before opening it, she lets out a gasp when she does. Animal style fries. The annoyed quirk of her eyebrows long gone. Closing the lid she gives you a thankful pout, her eyes glossing. “Thank you…”

“I got you a strawberry milkshake too since I know you like dipping them with the animal fries.” You chuckled, putting the glass on the table.

That’s when Wanda wanted to cry, cry pathetically into her perfect burger brought by your perfect, kind, compassionate self. Instead she tossed the burger aside and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. Your eyes widened in surprise, but pressed back with the same intensity, quickly melting into the kiss.

Wanda sighing against your lips easily became your new favorite sound, eager to get her to make more, your hands coming up to cup her face. Eventually you realize that this isn’t just any girl, but your best friend. Your best friend who you’d have been crushing on for years, your best friend who just kissed you.

She kissed you.

And you almost break the kiss by how much you’re smiling but Wanda beats you to it, leaving lingering kisses on your lips, slowing the pace until her forehead is against yours. “I’m in love with you Y/n.”

Your breath hitches “M-Me too.”

Wanda shakes her head, moving to nuzzle against your collarbone. “No detka, as in more than just a friend.” She says, reminded of your previous statements on what friends do. Fuck being friends, you wanted Wanda. Wanted to show her how good of a partner you could be.

“So you like me?” You asked shyly, still processing the revelation.

Wanda picked up her head from your shoulder, correcting you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Love you.”

You swallowed dryly, feeling your heart race. “That's great- thats- I.”

“Just kiss me already.” She orders breathlessly, barely giving you time to mutter ‘okay’ before your lips are on hers again.

It's not until the morning when you both come downstairs, lovesick smiles on your faces, that you realize the mess you left behind. Both burgers remain uneaten, but as your eyes glance down to yours and Wanda's intertwined fingers, you could care less.

#wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wlw post #wanda imagine #wanda my beloved #fluff #pregnancy #pregnant wanda maximoff

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jihyoruri · 3 months

Text

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 ALL MINE ALL ME huh yunjin x reader

❀ ͘ ⴰ “I hate your phone, throw it away” - kali uchis

yn being a possessive girlfriend for 10 minutes 1.5M views

prev. m.list .next ➩ CLIP #1 PLAYING… 📼

yn leaned against the fansign table, adjusting the bunny ears on her head with a straight face as she side glances chaewon who wraps her arms around yunjin who laughs and wraps her arms back around the girl.

yn scrunched up her face and looked at kazuha who let out a small laugh and picked up a plush baseball bat from the prop table and gave it to the girl.

yn politely took it from the girls hand and smiled innocently at her before posing with the bat for her fansite before walking over to chaewon and yunjin.

when yn got over to the laughing girls she immediately hit both of them with the plushie “playfully” causing them to yell as people in the crowd laugh at yn’s “playful antics.”

“why are you guys only giving each other attention?” she yells causing everyone to laugh as if the girl wasn’t being dead serious, “what about us?”

➩ CLIP #2 PLAYING… 📼

kazuha wrapped her arms around yunjin as the girls waited for their turn to practice on the stage for the award show that was happening later on in the day.

yunjin brought her hand held fan to her face and talked to the camera about how excited she is as she leaned into kazuha.

one of the other camera turned to yn who had chaewon talking her ear off but it seemed like the girl wasn’t even paying attention to the leaders words and was more focused on her two other members.

she watched as both kazuha and yunjin laughed at something yunjin said leaning against each other even more which caused her face to go sour before turning to chaewon quietly mocking their laughs which caused the leader to cover her face and laugh.

“share the joke with the class please!” yn shouted towards kazuha and yunjin, “I wanna laugh too, right chaewon unnie we wanna laugh.” she added causing the leader to laugh harder.

➩ CLIP #3 PLAYING… 📼

yn leaned against yunjin’s shoulder as kazuha and yunjin had a conversation with the live, she focused more on yunjin’s hands in hers, playing with the girls rings on her fingers.

“they say we look like a kdrama love triangle couple.” kazuha said pointing at a comment, “people have been saying that a lot.”

yunjin laugh and shook her head while yn looked towards kazuha, “are you sure they’re not just talking about me and yunjin? do you have reading problems? comprehension deficit perhaps?

yunjin’s mouth dropped while kazuha covered her mouth and laughed before reaching over yunjin to hit yn’s shoulder.

➩ CLIP #4 PLAYING… 📼

yn watched as the oldest of txt talked to yunjin who looked very interested in what the older was saying, she scrunched up her face before relaxing it immediately realizing was on camera with people that weren’t just her members.

she turned towards the camera and whispered to it, “txt sunbaenim, how cool right?” she says forcing an obvious smile, “right?”

“yn is actually a really big fan,” yunjin says gesturing towards yn who turns dramatically and looks behind herself to see if yunjin is talking about another yn

“she even has an album.” yunjin says bringing an arm towards yn and wrapping her arm around the girls waist bringing her closer to yeonjun.

he laughs thinking yn was just nervous but in reality that wasn’t the case at all, “am I your bias?”

“no.”

➩ CLIP #5 PLAYING… 📼

th camera followed yn as she went towards table where yunjin sat eating her food, she sat on the girls lap to show her something funny on her phone.

yunjin put her chin yn’s shoulder and laughed at the video before using her chopsticks to pick up a rice cake but before she could put it in her mouth, yn opened her mouth and let out a ahhhhh sound, causing yunjin to giggle and put the food in yn’s mouth.

“I want come!” the sound of chaewon’s voice filled the room as she walked towards yn and yunjin with her mouth open.

“ugh, why are you here?”

chaewon’s mouth dropped in offence while yunjin laughed at yn’s “joke”.

#huh yunjin #lesserafim yunjin #yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #lesserafim x reader #lesserafim imagines #girl group imagines

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itsgiovanna · 6 months

Text

private but not a secret

pairing: fem!reader x lewis hamilton (lh44)

type: instagram a.u

summary: you're a very famous actress and is keeping a private relationship with lewis hamilton, you've been together before but things didn't work out. although, there’s a saying that goes: what's yours will find you. maybe they find each other, maybe not. who knows? destiny makes the move.

notes: this is my first instagram a.u, i hope you love it as much as i did 🤍 :)

warnings: fluff, cursing.

face claim: jasmine tookes

liked by sydneysweeney, lewishamilton, lilycollins and 10,987 others.

swarovski as we celebrate our 128th year in the business, we’re pleased to announce that the 3x emmy award winner, y/n/l/n, as our new ambassador. 🩵

view all 4,578 comments

yourusername happy to be part of it 🤍☺️

user1 she’s so gorgeous i can’t 😭🥺

user7 LOVE OF MY LIFE

yourinstagramupdates mother is mothering 🥵

user3 wait…. is that an engagement ring?

↳ lovingyourinstagram I JUST NOTICED IT

↳ hater6 she better not be back with lewis 🙄🤮

↳ hater4 i hate her lmao

↳ user2 you don’t even know her stfu

liked by zendaya, lewishamilton, florencepugh, shaymitchell and 847,560 others

yourinstagram thank you, @BritishVogue! it was an honor to be part of the october issue 🤍

view all 88,653 comments

zendaya 😍😍😍

liked by the author

florencepugh i miss you, hottie! ❤️

↳ yourinstagram miss you, flo 🥺💖

user5 STUNNING

user10 can i be you when i grow up?

user2 please hit me in the face with a baseball bat

carmenmundt gorgeous 🤎

↳ yourinstagram see you sunday 🤍

↳ carmenmundt can't wait!

↳ yourinstagram added to their instagram stories

liked by yourinstagram, carlossainz, georgerussel, charlesleclerc and 809,687 others

lewishamilton there's no place like home. 🇬🇧

view all 56,784 comments

georgerussel looking good for the lady

↳ lewishamilton always, mate.

↳ user44 GEORGE RUSSEL WHAT IS THIS

↳ user35 did he just referred to that girl? 🤨

↳ user6 you mean his gf lol

yourinstagram the necklace would look better on me, tho. 🤍

liked by the author

↳ lewishamilton come to the gp and i’ll give it to you 😉

↳ yourinstagram we’ll see…

↳ user 32 WHAT IS GOING ON OMG

↳ user 1 i hope they got back together 😭😭❤️‍🩹

↳ roscoelovescoco missing's my mom's ❤️

liked by the author

↳ user27 get off roscoe's account lewis

↳ danielricciardo IS THIS SOFT LAUNCHING

liked by the author

liked by lewishamilton, danielricciardo, chloegracemoretz and 486,432 others

yourinstagram just got to do the hot laps with mercedes at the british grand prix! thank you @f1 💜

view all 59,543 comments

georgerussel finally, lewis wouldn't shut up about it. anyway, it was good to see you 😄

↳ yourinstagram good to see you too, george!

danielricciardo still on the soft launch...

↳ yourinstagram 🤫🤫🤫

lewishamilton 💜

liked by the author

↳ yourinstagram 🥹💜

user34 OMG IS THIS REAL

user5 i love them 😭

user8 not george exposing their relationship lmao 💀💀

mercedesamgf1 welcome to the family 🤍

liked by the author

heidiberger how can you never look ugly? ugh, i hate you.

liked by the author

user67 this is too much i'm gonna pass out

user82 she had the privilege of being the passenger princess of SIR LEWIS HAMILTON 🫠

anyataylorjoy 🩵🩵

liked by lewishamilton, charlesleclerc, pierregasly, mission44 and 647,432 others.

yourinstagram i couldn't be more proud of you, @lewishamilton. congratulations on @Almave! 🤍🥃

view all 50,435 comments

lewishamilton you're something else ❤️

liked by the author

↳ yourinstagram 😍

pierregasly this is good advertising

↳ georgerussel he probably begged her to post it

↳ lewishamilton really, mate?

↳ user58 THE OFFICIAL SOFT LAUNCH

user9 i just need one picture of them together, ONE!

user12 hope they post something together soon 😭

user87 what’s written on her necklace?

↳ user5 it looks like two letters? “m” and “n”? idk, i’m confused 🤔

liked by yourinstagram, zendaya, danielricciardo, georgerussel, carlossainz55, and 793,567 others

lewishamilton every day in the motherland is more beautiful than the last. much love from us, kenya. 🇰🇪❤️

lewishamilton tagged yourinstagram

view all 89,567 comments

yourinstagram it was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life, happy to share it with you 🤍

liked by the author

↳ lewishamilton always, love ❤️

danielricciardo hard launch 🤭

user76 I'M GONNA PASS OUT RN

fencer 😍

user1 this just made my day omg

user59 oh to be her :(

liked by lewishamilton, sebastianvettel, valtteribottas, charlesleclerc, georgerussel, zendaya, mickschumacher and 3,567,987 others.

yourinstagram one month ago, this happened… i'm the happiest woman in the world, you've stolen my heart in every possible way and i'm forever grateful for you, @lewishamilton. i can't wait to continue writing our story, my love. i love you, endlessly 🤍💍

view all 309,876 comments

lewishamilton I promise it'll be a thrilling ride, baby. i love you, forever.

liked by the author

georgerussel congratulations, guys! 💙

roscoelovescoco mom's and dad's 😍

sebastianvettel ❤️

naomi 🥰😍

serenawilliams the best couple there is ❤️

mercedesamgf1 future mr. and mrs. hamilton 🖤

user4 SHAKING CRYING THROWING UP

user67 imagine their babies 😭😭😭😭

user2 OMGGGGG

user8 the best day of my fucking life!!!!!!

valtteribottas when can i babysit your kids?

↳ danielricciardo get in line, mate

susiewolff i'm so happy for you two ❤️

mickschumacher congratulations 😇🤍

landonorris aw ❤️

liked by yourinstagram, georgerussel, mercedesamgf1, fencer, zendaya, mickschumacher, charlesleclerc and 5,897,320 others.

lewishamilton three months ago on 7.9.23 at exactly 10:34P.M we welcomed our little girl to the world, mia nancy hamilton. it's been emotional and incredible at the same time, y/n you're amazing and mia couldn't have a better momma, i love you, darling. altought we're very happy to share the news with you all, we kindly ask for privacy at this moment. ❤️

view all 765,243 comments

yourinstagram thank you for everything, love. i will always be by your side, i'm so happy that it gets to be the three of us now. mia is extremely lucky for having a caring, loving and admirable daddy like you, @lewishamilton. i love you more than my words can express, can't wait to have you home 🤍

↳ lewishamilton i love both of you, baby! calling in a few ❤️

↳ yourusername 🤍🤍

georgerussel missing little mia 💙

↳ yourursername we miss you, uncle george!

sebastianvettel beautiful family 😊❤️

zendaya omg 😍😍

mercedesamgf1 ❤️🥺

pierregasly congratulations!!!

heidiberger auntie heidi loves baby mia 🥹

danielricciardo can i babysit?

↳ yourusername maybe...

user4 OMFG SHE'S SO CUTE

user6 i fucking KNEW IT 😍😍

user1 lewis was meant to be a girl dad

user8 imagine her wearing a little mercedes suit 😭

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x y/n #mercedes amg f1 #formula 1 #lewis hamilton instagram au #formula 1 instagram au #formula 1 fanfic

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the-bi-library · 3 months

Text

Happy February! Here are bisexual books out in February!

Books listed:

An Education in Malice by S.T. Gibson Mewing by Chloe Spencer Hannah Tate, Beyond Repair by Laura Piper Lee The Friendship Study by Ruby Barrett You Had Me at Merlot by Melissa Brayden Sunbringer (Fallen Gods, #2) by Hannah Kaner Signals Volume 2 by Nika (can be read online on Tapas too) A Vicious Game (The Halfling Saga, #3) by Melissa Blair Breaks Volume 1 by Emma Vieceli, Malin Rydén Mortgage of Convenience by Dani McLean Letters to Her Love by Katherine Grant Projections by S.E. Porter Truthfully, Yours by Caden Armstrong Rupture in Total Eclipse (Sun & Moon Duet Book 2) by Sem Thornwood It's Ours to Write by Blanche Maze The Tainted Cup (Shadow of the Leviathan, #1) by Robert Jackson Bennett Big Date Energy by Bethany Rutter Tune Me Up (Bisexual Sing Team Book 3) by Renée Dahlia Snowed In With Summer by Tiana Warner Witch Boyfriend Wanted by Colette Rivera The Girl, the Ring, & the Baseball Bat by Camille Gomera-Tavarez King Cheer (Arden High) by Molly Horton Booth, Stephanie Kate Strohm, Jamie Green Prove It by Stephanie Hoyt Falling For You by Mariah Ankenman Disciples of Chaos (Seven Faceless Saints, #2) by M.K. Lobb Wine Ghost Goes to Hell by Sage Coffey In Plain Sight: A Summit Springs Novel by Siobhan Muir Who We Are in Real Life by Victoria Koops Fathomfolk (Drowned World, #1) by Eliza Chan The Absinthe Underground by Jamie Pacton

Please me know if I missed any books 💖

#My posts #books of the month #bisexual #bisexual representation #bisexual pride #bi books #bisexual books #sapphic books #achillean books #booklr #book blog #queer books #lgbt books #lgbtq books #bisexual romance #bookblr #book tumblr #Bi rep #Duaric books

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luveline · 1 year

Note

OK THE STEVE ZOMBIE AU BUT HE DOES FINALLY MIRACULOUSLY FIND ROBIN OR MAYBE DUSTIN OR LITERALLY ANYONE FAMILIAR. Our girl is happy but also like 👀 u finna ditch me now?

theres literally no zombies in this lmao </3 apocalypse au with new (but not really) boyfriend steve wherein you reunite with some old friends and find a community (and worry steve is gonna break up w u) fem!reader 7k words

The border between Indiana and Michigan is quiet. Nothing denotes its location besides a Welcome to Indiana sign.

Steve's hand tightens around yours. You stand there for minutes, wind breezing past your tired bodies and ruffling his limp hair.

"Do you think this is our last time seeing Indiana?" you ask quietly.

There's no need to shout. The town surrounding the border is abandoned.

He drops your hand. You miss his touch and the soothing effect it gives to hold it immediately.

"Maybe," he says. "Does that bother you?"

It fucking scares you. Staying there wasn't really an option anymore, not with the infestation of geeks dribbling away from Indianapolis or the lack of food. And besides that, you'd wanted to get to Michigan badly. Steve and his friend Robin had been planning to come here together before their untimely separation. Half of Hawkins had been aiming for Michigan after the news broke all those months ago — Illinois, Ohio, and Kentucky overrun by flesh-eating monsters.

But if you leave Indiana, you're admitting it's a lost cause. That the lives you led there are gone, candles snuffed out by a sudden ripping gale.

"I just…" You look over your shoulder at Michigan. "Can't believe we're here."

"I think I'm glad we're here."

You cock your head toward him.

"Not just to find Robin," he clarifies. "But, no offence? Indiana was kicking your ass."

You grimace at his implication. Indiana was kicking your ass. You've rolled your ankle more times than you can count. You'd fallen ten feet through the floor and given yourself a major concussion. You've been snarled at, robbed at knifepoint, and almost eaten.

"Fucking Indiana," you say.

"Fuck Indiana." He turns on his heel, but not before he's wrapped a hand around your arm to drag you with him. "Michigan better be nice to my girl, or we're going to Canada."

You've already let him walk you a couple of feet when you have the bearings to splutter, "Your girl?"

He ignores you, the smallest hint of a smile playing on his lips. You’re pretty confident in being his girlfriend, but something about being ‘his girl’ makes your head rush.

You'd found a gun a little ways back but no ammunition for it. It's a good prop regardless, so Steve keeps it in hand stuffed into the pocket of his windbreaker ready to scare off anyone with enough wits to find guns scary. You're sitting ducks otherwise, armed with one small penknife and the metal baseball bat that Steve keeps in the strap of his rucksack, so you stick to the side roads. Being out in the open is risky. You're used to this mode of living, adept at slinking and skulking in dimly dark places.

"Steve?" you ask, a murmur in the ringing quiet. Cicadas chirp in the trees, leaves rustling with each burst of wind.

"Yeah?" he asks shortly, distracted by the door in front of him.

He's attempting to pick the lock of a convenience store's sidedoor. You're standing guard.

"Where do you think Robin is?"

He doesn't answer for a while. He works a delicate job, the slim pick in his hand creaking formidably with every wrong move. He's too forceful, and you're the better locksmith, but your wrist still twinges from your fall in the woods a few days ago. Steve's too protective for his own good.

"I don't know. But she's smart, and-" He hisses, hair falling into his eyes. "I'm hoping she's still here."

"If I were her, I'd wait for you."

He tips his head back to meet your eyes. "If you ever stay somewhere dangerous waiting for me, I'll fist fight you."

Usually you'd burst into laughter at his familiar abrupt absurdity — you've grown to adore his jokes now that you know there's no real malice behind them — but you want him to hear what you're saying. You want to know if he'd do the same.

"I would," you say softly.

The lock clicks open.

Steve grins at you. "You won't need to. You're stuck with me like glue."

Inside of the store is a sorry sight. While the shutters had been down, a good sign, the interior is much less promising. Sunshine filters in through the smallest cracks, casting a scarce light over what's left of the aisles. Two are crushed to one side as if a huge hand has swept them away. Smashed booze bottles litter the floor. Glass like snow crunches underfoot, and a sticky sour smell is heavy in the air.

You ease into the room on pins.

"There's gotta be something," Steve says, pulling his pocket-sized torch out to give you a better view.

Where the shelves have collapsed, there's a small tunnel to the front of the room. You bend down to assess it.

"I think there's cookies over there."

"Where?" Steve demands. You point to aforementioned treats.

He army crawls through the gap and pops out on the other side. Those few seconds where you can't see him are unsettling, and from the speed with which he looks at you, he may have felt the same.

"Keep an eye out," he says.

You turn to the door. You've closed it tight but it won't lock without a key, and anyone might assume what you have and come inside.

Steve hisses an excited, "Yes!"

"How'm I s'posed to keep watch when you're doing that?"

"Babe, there's fucking Chips Ahoy." He loves them.

"I'm sick of Chips Ahoy," you mumble to yourself. "I miss carrots. And potatoes. I miss pasta. Pasta."

"Should I be jealous?"

"Definitely. I'd trade you for a full, home-cooked meal any day, handsome. Fresh made pasta, sun dried tomatoes. Garlic bread." You could cry thinking about it, all those rich flavours together.

"Call me crazy, but I think we could make you some pasta. Look-" He holds up a small jar. "Crushed garlic."

You brighten. "Where'd you find that?"

Garlic is a great flavour to make literally anything taste better, like all the canned stuff people don't always take: artichoke hearts, asparagus, aubergine.

"Holy shit, score.” Steve holds another tin up, torch held between his chest and his upper arm.

Your eyes turn round as saucers.

That night, you decide to stay in the convenience store. You'll be cornered if somebody tries to get in, but you'll be safe from geeks and the elements. Two out of three isn't bad.

You and Steve share the only fork, chowing down on his amazing find of tinned vegetable soup and dumplings. It barely registers in your head that it's cold, it's so nice to be eating something that isn't spaghettios. You could've built a fire outside to warm it if you weren't scared of being spotted by scroungers. Or worse, cannibals.

"Maybe we should go outside. Look for smoke," you say. Smoke means people.

"Good idea.” He urges you to take what's left of the soup, stands, and kisses the top of your head as he does.

You're pretty sure there's bliss like the light of a star radiating off of your skin, elated at his easy affection. You're almost as happy to get to finish the soup.

While he's gone, you open your bag and scrounge for what little self-care you have. Toothpaste is abundant in every store no matter how looted, as is soap, but soap needs water, and you're running low. You brush your teeth with toothpaste alone and use a little bit of water on a rag to wipe the oil off of your face, guilty and thankful at once. If you don't wash yourself when you can, you'll go crazy.

You apply another layer of roll on old spice and hope it'll hold out until you can find another lake, river, or tributary, which shouldn't be impossible. Michigan is surrounded by water, a fact that had put you off coming here at first.

You go where Steve goes, though, so Michigan it had been, and Michigan it is.

Your first night’s already proved fruitful. There's more than enough food here if you're willing to get weird (and you and Steve usually are). More food than you could carry.

Which is a little suspicious, now that you think about it.

Nobody thought to look here?

Is there anybody to look?

You push all your stuff aside and scramble onto your knees, suddenly paranoid. Steve's taking too long, what if this place is a trap? A honeytrap to lure in mindless ants. What if they've already grabbed him, and–

"Oh, Jesus," Steve says as he opens the door, voice uber loud in the night time stillness. "You scared me. What's the matter, need to pee?"

"I thought somebody kidnapped you," you say, trying for joking and missing by a mile.

Steve leans against the door. He's regained his controlled volume and demeanour, "Safe and sound. I'm serious, do you need to pee?"

You and Steve pad out your corner of the store against the pilfered chip aisle. He lets you use his chest as a pillow, and when he turns off the torch there's nothing to do but listen to his breathing and feel his chest move under your ear.

You rub his sternum with the heel of your hand. "You could use me as a pillow sometime. If you wanted to."

"Yeah? You're softer than me, I think I'd love that."

You draw a short line to his navel, thinking. Lucky to have found him. Lucky to like him this much, and lucky that he likes you. You're 'his girl', and you get to sleep on his chest and sometimes when he's not worrying himself to the bone he'll tell you secrets. You know him better than you’ve ever known anybody.

He curls his arm around your shoulder and takes your upper arm into his hand, the heat from his fingers seeping into your skin. You've taken off your coat because it's uncomfortable. Steve will fold it over your chest when you fall asleep.

"It was a good day, right?" He sounds terrified of jinxing it.

You kiss his chest, or his t-shirt, so lightly he likely doesn't feel it. A kiss for your sake rather than his. "It was a good day."

He holds you close. His heart thrums in your head.

"Floor's like a fucking ice cube," he mutters.

You cover as much of him as you can with your arms, sleep tugging at your eyelids. "I'll keep you warm," you promise as they close. "Wake me up when you get too tired."

"Alright." He massages your arm in his hand gently, and you fall asleep.

—

Steve flinches awake at the whisper of a sound outside. A younger Steve, one who'd known nothing about geeks, or people, really, how awful they can be, wouldn't have woken. Hell, Steve could've slept through a hurricane when he was in high school, all those years where he'd stayed up too late playing hooky and smoking Malboro's behind the Big Buy. He looks back now and wonders how much sleep he missed out on in his king-sized mattress, up to his eyeballs in cushy sheets and fresh linens. Why had sleeping felt like such a chore?

And after that, when he and Robin would stay up watching shitty movies and eating the free stale popcorn from the video store. Though he wouldn't trade any of that away.

Fucking idiot, he thinks to himself scathingly. He was not supposed to fall asleep. He checks you over quickly. In your sleep you've slid off of his chest and onto the tarp next to him, but you’re unharmed.

He sits up and scrambles for his penknife. Weak dusk light breaks through the store's shutters, dust motes disturbed by his movements diving between rays of light like lightning bugs. His joints click with the force and speed with which he springs up to protect you.

What sound was that? It had come as loud as a crack of thunder, but could've been something small, a squirrel over a tree branch.

He should wake you up. If it's one person, even two, you could help him. But if it's more, and they find you…

He shoulders open the door and walks out into the morning light.

—

You wake to hands on your shoulders.

You're scared instantly. Steve usually wakes you reluctantly, a shake and a whispered, "Up," or, "Up, baby," if he's especially tired.

"It's me," he says, his voice burning with something you haven't ever heard before. "It's me. Time to wake up."

You peel your eyes open, horrified at the sight above you. Steve face hovers over your own with his hair tucked behind his ears and a blazing smile, daylight behind him haloing him in gold.

"You didn't wake me." You bring clumsy hands to his rough cheeks. "Why didn't you wake me? You look so tired."

He looks electrified, the bags under his eyes no match for his smile. You can feel it as he leans down, as he plants a kiss firmly to your unsuspecting mouth. He kisses you all over, a joyous chuckle bubbling out between them.

You laugh yourself, tickled as his stubble scratches your cheeks, your neck as he works his way down.

"There's- There's people," he says. "My people. Fucking Robin-"

"What?"

You're a half inch from headbutting him unconscious. Luckily he's already veering upward, stuffing what you'd left on the ground back into your packs.

"I haven't seen her yet, but there's this other girl we went to school with, Darcy Mulligan, and she said this is an outpost, right? They keep all this shit here for people who need it, and then they watch to see if you're dangerous-"

"They were watching us?"

He plows onward, ignoring you, "And they saw us and I went out thinking they were gonna shoot me but-"

"Steve, we can't go with these people."

His smile fades a little. "No, we aren't. I told them already, we aren't that stupid. But," — he grabs your arm — "they said they're gonna bring Robin."

You don't want to keep fighting him. To shoot down this newfound hope, this lightness you've never seen him shine with before, feels cruel. But you don't want him to get ahead of himself.

"What if they're bringing back reinforcements?"

He swallows and nods, reassuring your conjectures. "Right, I thought that too, but- I don't know, baby, Darcy was with a guy, and they both had guns. They could've shot me. 'N' if they were empty, the guy could've just knocked me over the head with it, you know?" He crawls impossibly closer than he'd been, hands rubbing your arm unthinking. "I think this is real."

I want it to be real goes unsaid.

You're ashamed that you can't find any excitement to wear with him. Dread licks over your skin as you smile at him, as you cup his cheek in your hand, and as you stand up to help him pack away his things. You feel like you're going to your death.

Steve can read you well. He grabs your shoulders. You're selfishly hoping he'll say you can run. He doesn't. "You trust me?" he asks.

You deflate, shoulders falling. "Of course I do."

"Thank you." He tries to pull you in for a hug but you're reeling, distracted, he has to persuade you, and he does so sweetly. "Hey, c'mere, come on." He pulls at you. "Come here."

You flop into his chest with all the grace of a shored fish, arms limp. He smells like sweat which probably means you do too, but he smells like himself, and that's what's important.

"Nothing bad is going to happen to you."

"What about you?"

"If Robin's here, I have to take the risk. She's my best friend."

You understand that. You'd never ask him not to do this, because you'd do it for him. If you'd ever gotten separated, you'd spend months looking for him. Years, maybe. He's the only person left.

You have no clue if he'd do the same for you.

He scrubs at your back roughly. Such a boyish kind of hug.

"You have your knife?" he asks.

You have it. Rather than let them corner you in here, you both make your way out into the woods. Steve shows you the short path he'd taken to find Darcy Mulligan and the man she'd been with, evidence of their stakeout left in the embers of a small fire. You stand frozen with a tree trunk to your back and Steve stations himself in front of you, pack secured on your back. Steve has his baseball bat in hand. What good will it serve against a possible group of gunmen? You start to panic, really panic, and you're a hair's width from begging him to run with you when his grip on the bat falters.

"Fuck," he says softly.

Three people turn the corner; a dark haired girl with twin pigtails and a rifle hanging at her side; a boy, presumably the man Steve had mentioned; and a shorter girl with light brown hair, her expression — her entire body — lit with happiness, elation, and her laugh loud enough to prove it.

"Holy shit," Steve says.

You forget to be scared. You forget to worry. Steve lets the baseball bat drop out of his hand, and then he's taking three weak steps forward to meet her, and that's it, it's her, Robin throws her arms around his neck and nearly barrels him to the ground. His hands come up to meet her. He's shaking so hard you're surprised he can grip her waist, his face crushed to the side of her head.

Tears well in your eyes. To get to see this, so soon, when you'd thought maybe Steve might never see his best friend ever again, is a blessing. It's a fucking miracle.

Your tears bite back when the boy moves forward and hugs him too.

You tighten your grip on your knife and pull it from your pocket, confused and alarmed that Steve's about to get gutted, but Steve starts to shake worse.

It takes you a second to realise he's crying.

"Henderson," he says.

Oh. It's Dustin. You've heard enough stories about him to know it. He has the same curly hair, and while he's taller than you'd thought, Steve had only ever talked about one Henderson.

Steve's relief is a knot in your throat. You wipe your cheek quickly with the back of your hand and shove the knife into your pocket.

Over their heads, the dark haired girl narrows her eyes at you.

"I can't believe you're here," Steve says, voice raspy with emotion.

You have never heard him cry.

"Where have you been, Steve?" Robin asks hoarsely.

You take a step toward him without thinking, and he hears it despite everything and looks up at you with a teary-eyed smile.

"We got lost," he says, holding your gaze.

"Lost? It's been months. We thought you were zombie mulch, you shithead."

"I'm here, aren't I?" He rolls his eyes at you, like he's saying Get a load of this guy?

It's a reassuring gesture even if he doesn't mean for it to be. You're still a team.

"Hi," Robin says, her hands clasped in Steve's shirt, but her attention fully yours. "I'm Robin."

You don't have a chance to introduce yourself. Steve does it for you, and he says, "She's my girl. Saved me this entire time."

What the fuck does that mean?

Robin looks at you again. "No fucking way."

"Only took an apocalypse for Steve to get a girlfriend," Dustin says.

There's something about their playful arguing that makes you want to cry again. It's the relief they've padded it with. You can imagine how brilliant it must feel to make fun of somebody you'd thought long dead.

"Don't worry, Y/N," Robin says gravely, "there are tons of dudes at camp. You have options."

Steve steps on her foot.

"We should head back," Darcy says shortly.

On the walk, Steve feels very far away. He keeps looking at you to check you're there, but his thoughts are months ago, recounting the details of your survival to his friends in short. You and Steve had been together since basically the very start when you'd saved him from a horde, and he tells that with pride. So much so you feel heat blooming behind your neck and at the tips of your ears.

"We fucking floored to to the meeting point but you guys weren't there-"

"Sorry-"

"No, it's okay," he says. "I get it. It was rough." All of you shiver at the memory. Hawkins had been hit hard, a close knit town with nowhere to hide.

"No we- we should’ve fucking waited- I begged them to wait," Robin says.

"Who did you get out with?"

And there's the list of survivors. It's short. The amount of orphaned kids is extremely depressing, and for a while there's silence. All those people. Dustin's mom, Robin's dad.

"Hopper's here, though," Dustin adds after a while.

"That explains why you're still alive."

"Actually, dickhead, we're alive because I'm awesome. The radio-"

"How many people are there?" Steve interrupts.

"It's a whole new world, Harrington."

It's better.

You turn onto what looks like an old college campus and suddenly, there's people. So many people you walk backward and almost tumblr off of the curb, because fuck. There's noise, and smells, and sounds. There are little kids running around in a closed off area of the quad, laughing and chasing after one another. There are guns on guards patrolling makeshift walls.

Your ears start ringing.

"Think your girlfriend's gonna pass out," Darcy says.

You're the last one to figure out she's talking about you.

"Oh, hey. Hey," Steve says, stepping toward you.

You take another step back.

"Baby," he says softly.

"There's people here."

"So many new boyfriend's to choose from," he jokes. He's tentative, but he offers his hand like he knows you'll take it. "Come on. I promise I won't get jealous when you run off with somebody cooler."

"I don't want somebody cooler," you say.

"Okay, awesome, 'cause I was lying. I'd be super jealous. I'd feed myself to the geeks."

"Don't say that."

He grins at you, hand hovering in the gap between your bodies unwavering. Trust me, it says. Nothing bad is going to happen to you.

You take Steve's hand.

—

The world is more than you and Steve against it. There are people to answer to.

Chief Hopper actually recognises you when he sees you. He recognises Steve first, and he gives him a pat on the back. You aren't expecting any hellos, figuring you're barely a memory to him, but Hopper smiles at you like you've just told him you have the antidote for zombification in your rucksack.

"It's good to see you, kid."

That night, in the dining hall, you get a small welcome between shift announcements. Hundreds of heads turn your way, and while some house cagey unsurety, the majority are happy to see you.

You sit with Steve and his friends (plural, a growing number, because nearly all of them are here), torn between stopping him from crying his eyes out with happy tears and listening to the older woman sitting beside you. Her name is Mallory, and she offers a generous gift.

"You have any questions at all, sweetpea, and you can come to me. Or if you just wanna talk, my shoulder's right here." She pats it for emphasis.

"Thank you so much." But, you want to say, I have Steve.

"Young love, and in a time like this." Mallory's smile is genuine, if a little haunted. "It's amazing."

You indulge her, turning from Steve just slightly. "But?"

She brushes a strand of hair behind her ears. It's three colours, a faded red at the middle, a mix of grey and brown at the top. "Listen, I have some unsolicited advice for you hon, but I'm not trying to offend you when you just got here."

You shake your head. "No," you say hurriedly, "of course not. I wouldn't think that."

She digs around in her pocket and opens her hand covertly under the table. When you look at it, she hisses. "No, don't. Keep your eyes up."

You right your gaze accordingly. The canteen is simply that — the college's canteen. Every night there's something cooking, and every morning if they can afford it. Although you'd been told some people eat at home, most people come here, because this is the only place with a reliable generator. From where you're sitting, you can see everybody, and you suspect Steve had chosen this vantage point on purpose.

Hopper stands at the front of the room behind another man, who's moved from the important stuff and is now lamenting at the book club's low attendance. They have a fucking book club. You can't believe it.

Mallory drops something into your hand. A hard-boiled candy.

"My advice," she says, the two of you watching as Hopper and the second man confer, "is to try and be in both worlds at once."

"You've lost me."

"That's not a good sign, I've barely started," she jokes, laughing so much that the men sitting across from you laugh too. She carries on, "What I mean is, this isn't home. It probably never will be. We fight so hard to make it home, we plant trees, 'n' we sleep warm every night, but…" She squeezes your shoulder amicably, a light, quick touch. "I know how it felt when I got here. Me and my husband, we kept to ourselves. And we were right to, not everybody here can be good. But when he died, I had nobody."

You let your eyes drop to you plate, a small portion of a soup that's not the best and a sandwich that's marginally better. You get what Mallory's trying to say — don't put your eggs all in one basket, not when the basket might get mauled to death any day coming.

You get what she's trying to say. You don't appreciate it.

"Thank you," you say weakly.

She nods, and Steve saves you from anymore conversation with an arm hooked through yours.

“You okay?” he asks. Unmistakably fond.

You can feel the eyes of all of his friends. All these people you knew too, or knew of, and should be happy to see. You should be so fucking happy right now.

So why aren’t you?

You turn your face to his and take him in. He’s got a red rash of skin over the top of his head from prolonged sunburn and a scar under his left eye from a cruel tree branch. He looks different than the Steve you’d met at school, and he looks different still from the Steve you’d saved on day 1.

But he’s your Steve.

You drop your forehead into his neck, love like a warm blanket encapsulating you when he presses a kiss against your forehead.

“I know,” he says, moving back, forcing you to sit up again. “It’s crazy.”

You return his smile, though you aren’t sure you're on the same page.

—

Little Hawkins makes you want to curl up into a ball and cry. It’s a floor of rooms in the campus dormitories, and Robin shares with a couple of other people your age. She only has a mattress and her things on the ground in one room, but soon Steve and another guy are dragging another mattress from across campus while you watch.

"No offence," Steve says, "but I'm trying to spoil you right now. Can you stop pouting? I'm giving you a breather."

"I don't believe you."

He and the unnamed man lean the mattress up outside of Robin's door.

"Well," he says warmly, and you're starting to feel lovesick with how sweet he's being, nearly enough to forget how scared you are, "maybe you should try."

Steve is nice. He's always been nice, ever since you met him, even if that nice was strapped down and buried under one layer of derision, one layer of sarcasm, and another layer of sternness for prosperity. But this is another level. Ever since he woke you up he's been ridiculous (he's been the kind of affectionate you've secretly ached for). Steve's sparing with affection but you wouldn't ever complain — can you expect him to play doting boyfriend when each day he's hardwired and on the fritz trying to make sure you both don't die agonising, gross deaths?

This is fucking crazy, though.

Steve pulls you bodily by the waist into his front and talks into the highest point of your cheek, words muffled by your skin, "When was the last time we slept on a mattress? Gotta be months ago," — you lean into him entirely, he takes your weight with zero qualms — "when we were in that house by the lake with all the soaps."

"So many soaps," you murmur, melted by his closeness.

He laughs. He giggles, all boyish and pretty and you can't help yourself, you lift your chin, practically begging for a kiss.

You get a short one. Steve's too busy laughing. "And the canned pickles. I know they were, like, doomsdayers, but what did we count, like-"

"Fifty seven-"

"Fifty seven jars of pickles," he finishes.

If this is what Steve is like here, you can make the trade. You don't trust anybody that isn't him, and it feels like you're surrounded by people who could easily hurt you, but his easy joy right now is contagious.

Robin's voice comes loud from inside her room. "Hey, lovebirds! Are you coming in? They turn all the lights off in like, twenty minutes."

It's obvious how much Steve trusts Robin. You get the mattress in her room through a series of squeezing and hoping, and she shows you her fancy little sink with running water, nothing short of pride in her eyes.

"It's freezing," she says, "but you can wash up."

It genuinely doesn't bother you that it's cold, emotionally. Physically you get the jitters, and it's worth it because Steve pities you and wraps you up tight to rub your arms. He and Robin talk a lot, so much that your brain has given up on listening. It's not something you're happy to hear anyhow, your perilous journey. Steve is generous on your account, leaving out all your most embarrassing moments.

You sit on the end of the mattress and wonder if you can take your shoes off.

"Robin?" you ask.

Both turn to look at you, surprised.

"Yeah?"

"Does the door lock?"

She brings her legs up to her chest, chin on her knees. "There's no deadbolt, but you need a key to open it from the outside. So kind of?" She watches you for a moment, and then she nods towards the desk covered in books. "I used to put the chair under the handle when I first got here. You can do that, if you're worried."

You nod uselessly and get up to do just that.

"Thanks, Robs," Steve says.

"Yep." She flops into a ball on her side and pulls the blankets up and over her face. "Goodnight, then."

Steve laughs and steps over your legs so he can get to her. "Robin," he says, pulling the blankets down. "I- I really missed you."

She holds out her arms and they hug. She pats his back. "Missed being a pain in my neck, maybe," she mutters. He pushes away from her in mock disgusts and they smile, a shared smile that douses you in an unfair jealousy. You shrug it off pretty quickly when he sits down on the mattress beside you, looking content and, shockingly, really tired.

He encourages you up to the top of the mattress beside him and folds up the blanket from the rucksack for you as a pillow, sliding it under your head. When he seems confident that you're comfortable he blows out the candle burning on Robin's desk.

This part's easy, you and Steve in the dark. You're practised in the art of moving around one another.

Your heart pounds in your ears as Steve pulls a heavy blanket over the both of you, his arm strewn across your stomach haphazardly.

"Are you okay?" he whispers.

You turn your face to his though you can't see it. "Of course I am. Are you okay?"

"I know this is weird."

Weird doesn't feel like the right word. Surreal, maybe. Something out of a dream.

"I think my back aches more on the mattress, I'm so used to twisting myself into knots between your legs."

He snorts. "That doesn't sound right."

You cover his arm with your hand. "Pig."

"You can lie on my chest, if you want."

"Think it's your turn to use me as cushioning." Your voice is coloured by your smile.

He exhales into your shoulder.

"Mm. This is nice," he murmurs.

"You want me to take the first shift?"

"I don't think we need shifts."

You can't agree. Steve trusts Robin and you trust Steve, but you do not trust Robin. She seems lovely, and through Steve's stories you know she's a good person, but he hasn't seen her in a year. She could be anybody, and she's locked into a room with you.

You don't mean to be deceitful. "Alright," you utter, "no shifts."

"You smell nice," Steve says. His lips move against your skin, and he lifts his head enough to kiss your jaw, three kisses in succession. "Goodnight, honey."

You raise your hand to his head. "Goodnight."

He falls asleep to you carding through his hair. Even when you're sure he's dead to the world you keep going, the feeling of it between your fingers calming.

You don't sleep a wink.

—

It becomes a mantra. Steve is happy here. Over and over and over.

You're happy too by consequence; Steve is a new person, still the man you know but with this emanating happiness rolling off of him in waves.

Chief Hopper has promised to get you and Steve a place together if you want one. This had scared you half to death, because you want one bad, but you'd been expecting a little resistance from Steve (or, admittedly, a lot). Because…

You're starting to think maybe you aren't scared of the people here. You trust Hopper to run a community that's safe if he says it is, and as the days stretch into a week, two weeks, you start to feel secure. Steve's never far, but that's the terrifying part.

You're worried Steve is going to leave you.

It sounds dramatic. It is dramatic. But you're scared shirtless that Steve is going to wake up and realise he doesn't owe you a thing, that he doesn't harbour the affection for you that he thinks he does. You're worried that Steve had gone soft on you because you'd been there, like a habit.

Your feelings for him only grow, despite this. He's fucking handsome when he's clean-shaven, clean in general. Somebody's mom gives him a haircut and you can't believe it, because he's always been good looking but you can tell he's more confident like this, and the confidence makes him golden.

He's also super handsy.

You love it, and you get it. You know you look prettier clean, even more so after somebody's mom gives you a haircut and you've managed to scrub the perma-dirt from under your nails. The want to kiss him is dialled up by a thousand because you always have clean teeth.

The nagging fear remains even when he's got a mouthful of your neck.

"Ouch," you moan, hands in his hair, legs spread enough to accommodate his figure between them, "s'like a geek, nibbling on me."

Steve bites a little harder.

You gasp at his show of force and push your head away from him. "Steve," you say with a laugh.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologises, pulling back. Elbows at your ribs, he holds his weight off of you though there's no reason to. "My teeth missed you."

"What the fuck."

"All of me missed you." He strokes the side of your face mildly. "I hate this."

You wiggle under him, mattress springs digging into your back. He doesn't bother explaining what he'd meant, only leans down to kiss your cheek, your chin, the tip of your nose.

You stare at him.

"What do you hate?"

He scrunches his nose up like it's obvious, and you're stupid for not knowing. "Us being on separate schedules. It's fucking shitty."

You don't have an answer for him. It seems more than lucky that he would assuage your worst feelings considering you haven't told him anything at all. You haven't told him about staying up at night to make sure Robin's not gonna kill him, or how worried you are that he's gonna realise he can leave you now you're safe, now you don't owe each other anything. You haven't told him how much you love him, and how much that would hurt.

Somehow, you get the impression that he knows anyway.

"This is really nice," you say eventually.

He rests his face against yours. You close your eyes.

"What's nice?" he asks. "Our separation? You're sick, babe. I'm trying to bare my heart here and you're stomping all over it."

"Not our separation, dummy. This. You lying on top of me. It feels really nice."

His small laugh warms your cheek. "I know. Why'd you think I let you climb all over me for months?"

"'Cause otherwise we'd freeze to death?"

He kisses a line down to the skin under your ear. "That, too. But mostly because it feels good."

You wrap your arms around him and press your nose to his hair, smelling him for your own self-indulgence. He lets his weight press down on you, shifting his arm so they're digging behind your shoulders.

You hook a leg behind his.

"Steve, I…"

"I love you."

You stiffen.

He hugs you that tiny bit tighter. "I love you," he says again. "I should've told you before, but I- I was so afraid that you'd-" He clears his throat quietly. "I was fucking terrified that I was going to let you down. You kept almost dying on me, and I kept realising I wouldn't be able to do this without you."

"I love you too," you say, shell-shocked.

He kisses your cheek slowly, softly, and then he lifts himself up so you're face to face.

"I love you," you say, because he'd said it twice.

His smile is gentle, eyes creased with a loving amusement. "I know." Steve steals back one of his arms so he can thumb under your eye. "I know you're not sleeping."

"Steve-"

"No, listen. I know you don't trust Robin-"

"I do-"

"You don't, and it's okay." He cups your cheek. "It's okay. You know, Hopper said it wouldn’t take long to find us a room. A couple more days and you won’t have to worry. And you know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” you say, voice softening to match his own.

He squeezes your cheek. “There’s a lot of stuff I should say to you and I’m kind of trying to hang onto my last shred of dignity here, but I mean it. More than I’ve ever- More than anyone. I love you.”

Your lips fall into a self-pitying pout. You won’t cry, though you feel like you could, because this is possibly the happiest you’ve ever been in your life. Steve loves you more than anyone, plain as day. He wouldn’t say that if he were going to swap you out for a new apocalypse girlfriend anytime soon, ‘cause Steve doesn’t mess with feelings. He’s earnest.

“Ever since we got here, I’ve been waiting for you to break up with me,” you say.

Which is funny in itself. You and Steve kissed each other every now and then for weeks before you had the conversation — it feels juvenile to think of boyfriends and girlfriends in life or death, and, paradoxically, it feels really important. The label means a lot to you. The ‘I love you’ means the world, even if he’s been showing it everyday since he met you.

He makes a sound that’s a combination of a scoff, a snort, and a pitying sigh. “You’re ridiculous,” he says.

You laugh so loudly it surprises you both. “I’m ridiculous? Get off of me, rich boy.”

Steve hunkers down. “What? No way. I live here now.”

“Seriously, Harrington, get off. I'm sick of you. Robin promised she’d find me a new boyfriend. Maybe I’ll get one with compassion.”

He laughs. He’s trying not to, and it comes out warm and soft to spite him. “Fine, let’s break up.”

“Fine.”

He tilts his head toward yours until your foreheads are touching, staring into your eyes. It takes a lot of willpower to hold in your laugh. “Wanna go on a date with me?”

You lift your chin and kiss him through giggles. “Yeah, okay. Options are pretty limited here, anyway.”

#stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve zombie!au #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington

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juuuulez · 8 months

Text

📰 | prologue: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes-less chapter (sorry!), Negan x Daughter! Reader, pre/start of apocalypse, violence and minor gore, morally grey reader, mentions of child abuse/neglect.

summary: When the apocalypse breaks loose, you find yourself in companionship with your sport teacher, Mr. Smith.

THIS was so much fun to write!!!! Genuinely my favourite chapter I’ve done so far. Let me know what you all think, because I’d love to do more little tidbits that stray from the original story. But with that in mind, this instalment IS required to understand parts of the fic going forward. Prologue is mandatory…..I’ve just finally done it.

Chapters 1, 2, 3, and 4 are already out! 5 will return to our regularly scheduled program of Carl and (Y/N) bickering.

You valued consistency.

Doing the same thing, every day.

Even if your life was shit, at least it was consistently shit.

You always knew how to behave. What could just go unpunished. How to enter the house without making a sound. The perfect patterns to ensure your location wasn’t given away. What exactly to say to avoid being hit.

It was routine, comfortable. You permanently lived on the edge, waiting. Listening, watching. Observing those around you.

As routine, you were late. It was becoming quite the pattern, but you couldn’t help it. The bus ran late. Or, you suppose… if it ran late every day, then it was on schedule. Maybe you should start catching an earlier bus.

Whatever, it didn’t matter.

Second period, Tuesday.

Sport.

Now, you didn’t necessarily dislike sport. But you didn’t really love it, either.

The uniform always made you feel insecure. Which, at the ripe age of 13, doesn’t seem to be an emotion your peers are experiencing yet. Or maybe they are just better at hiding it than you are. It’s also incredibly performative, sport, which you hate. Being singled out, going one by one, choosing teams. All of it was terrible.

You didn’t mind your teacher.

Which, went a long way, considering you disliked most people who resided within these buildings. Teachers and students alike.

But Mr. Smith was nice. To you, at least. And to everyone. He was loud, had too much energy, but you didn’t mind. It just meant that he cared about his job.

You absentmindedly tugged at the sleeves of your shirt, the fabric wrapped around your arms to make up for the breezy garment of the girls tank top. It made you look different, set you apart. You hated that.

Regardless, you fall in line with the others.

Baseball.

Granted, you’ve never played baseball before. Sure, you’d watched it, on the small occasion that you were allowed to stay with a friend. It was a vivid memory. Watching from the hallway, over her father’s shoulder, whilst she was asleep.

You wished that your father liked sports. Or maybe cooking. Or collecting things, cleaning things, fixing things. Anything.

It’s almost the end of class, you’re standing at the back of the line. Three kids, then two, then just one. You. The others are standing on the bleachers, already collecting their equipment, preparing for break.

“Batter-up.” Mr. Smith says, though you don’t understand the colloquialism. Nonetheless, you move forward, accepting the bat from the previous student. Another is further down the field. Bowler, you presume.

The metal bat is cold between your fingers, clenched in your dominant hand. It’s heavy, but not an unmanageable amount, just enough to keep you aware of it. There’s weight to the swing, weight on your arm, shoulder. It takes a moment to find your footing.

But when you do, the other student has already thrown the ball. It’s hurdling towards you, faster than comfortable. Spinning through the air with a distinct whizz, perfectly curved, heavy. Dangerous.

It’s instinctual. Your body twists, landing a hit on the spherical object with laser accuracy, the impact ringing in your ears as it soars away, towards the end of the pitch.

Your head snaps in the opposite direction, recalling the match you’d silently observed years ago. There are beige bases in the grass, thin plates. The bat falls from your grip, hitting the ground with a thud, and you move to start running.

It only takes a few steps before reality clicks in, and you realise the feat is pointless. Nobody else is playing. There is no-one to catch your ball, to cheer and clap. Everybody has already begun to leave. They didn’t watch you, didn’t continue the game. Three seconds tick over before the bell rings, releasing the crowd of children awaiting their freedom.

Suddenly the summer breeze is too hot, the sleeves of your shirt itching, sticking to your skin. The tank is too tight. It hugs your body in the wrong way, vulnerable, at their mercy. And yet, you are unseen in a similar manner, and there’s an inkling of you that wants to be judged, simply to say you’d been recognised.

You’re collecting your things, and by that, putting your muddied sneakers into a plastic bag and slipping on new ones. There are footsteps behind you. Heavy, easily identifiable as an adult. You have impeccable hearing.

Before he can announce himself, you’ve turned. There’s always been respect in your tone when conversing with teachers, well aware of the authority they hold, despite your frequent disagreeable on their methods.

“Never mentioned you were good at baseball.” Mr. Smith quips, already packing up the equipment left behind from the lesson into a large bag. Those concrete-hard balls, the plastic bases, the metal bats.

“I’ve never played, sir.” You tell him, flashing that usual, awkward smile that doesn’t really count as a smile, but just the pursing of your lips. An attempt at civility from somebody too irreversibly damaged for their age.

“Well, we’ve got a team running,” He continues to speak whilst organising, and though he does not look at you, your attention is drawn. “Could come find you later, give you the permission slip.”

That bursts your bubble. There’s no chance in hell that you could persuade your father to sign it. There was forging the signature, but this game would run in after-school hours, an extra curricular. You wouldn’t be allowed.

“I dunno,” You shrug in premature defeat, slinging the bag over your shoulder, coming to stand at the feet of the bleachers. “Not really a team player. Wouldn’t fit in with the older girls.”

Though there’s no visible indication, it’s obvious that Mr. Smith disregards this as a valid excuse. Which, it definitely isn’t, but it’s the little statement you tell yourself in order to feel less shitty about missing an opportunity.

“How about I get you the slip, and then you’ve got the option?” It’s said as a question, but clearly isn’t, as he’s then reaching into the duffel bag and pulling out one of those heavy, metal bats.

He holds it out to you, and you have no choice but to take it.

“Get some practise in before the weekend.”

Then Mr. Smith is leaving, and you’re left standing there, on the muddy field. The second bell rings out.

You’re late.

Now, this habitual lateness may not be all so coincidental.

Tardiness was handled rather vigorously in the seventh grade, for whatever reason. You didn’t understand.

But it hasn’t taken too long into the year to crack the metaphorical code. Detention was mandated for wrongdoings, ergo, another hour before you had to be home.

You’d take detention over home any day of the week.

So it was unsurprising when you ended up there this afternoon, settling into your usual spot near the back. There were a other kids, the typical troublemakers, and a few poor souls who genuinely had misfortune befall them.

Mrs. Hagerty, the librarian, overlooked detention. She was old and slow, grey hair, grey lips. Grey… skin. Well, she looked half-dead, which was saying something. You weren’t surprised, though it was a little suspicious how she hadn’t chastised you for bringing the baseball bat into the room.

It sat propped up against your desk.

Despite your adamancy against pointless procedures, public humiliation, gossip, and assholes in charge, you were quite good at school. English, primarily, was your strong suit. Reading, writing. All of it.

The peace that you’d carefully crafted was interrupted roughly halfway into the lesson. Or, babysitting session, as Mrs. Hagerty was yet to look up from her desk. Talk about worlds easiest job.

You still remembered that day, even now. Years later.

At the time, Mr. Smith was nothing but your sport teacher, someone with authority who you detested less than most other figures. A reasonable constant in your life, so far.

Now, he was Negan. Everything to you, in a way. Alike to how you were everything to him. Though you didn’t know it then, this was the day that he’d consume an entirely different part of your mind, forging a new identity that would terrorise, ravage, and torment communities.

But in the same breath, protect you, help raise you, construct an entire empire with you as the sun. Though you’d never succumb to the hive mind, you were not Negan. But you certainly were his.

Nonetheless, it all started within that room. The detention room.

“Permission slip.” Negan announced, placing the small pink paper on the desk in front of you. He attempted to keep his voice hushed, mindful of the other students who were meant to be studying, but appeared more to be sleeping.

Now that it was out of school hours, and he was likely printing, Negan wore reading glasses. Later, you would mock him for these, making comments about him being old.

It always awarded you with that same distinct look of warning. Yet, it never made you feel threatened, but appreciated. Seen.

You slide the permission slip closer, reading the small black writing. In the same motion, you fish out a pen, jotting down cursive letters in the underlined section.

You slide it back.

“I can’t take this,” Negan points out with a sign, gazing down at the signature that is obviously not one of your parents. “You’re really making me go back, and print another one?”

This causes you to roll your eyes, “So I can take it home and do the same thing? That just wastes both of our time… our you could take it now.”

However, he won’t budge. “It’s policy. Go home, get it signed. I don’t need to know how.”

Though you feign annoyance, the insinuation made you want to smile. Turns out, Negan knew more than he was letting on. Gossip spread across faculty quickly, and it didn’t take a genius to deduct your… poor living situation.

The long sleeves, the turtle necks, the gloves. Jeans in summer. Never a parent to attention parent-teacher conferences.

He’s about to turn and leave, when there’s a slight commotion at the front of the room.

One of the younger students, Jasmin, is talking to Mrs. Hogarty in a hushed voice. Goody-two-shoes.

When she gets no response, the student only continues talking, trying to elicit a reaction from the teacher that has otherwise remained silent. In an irreversible mistake, Jasmin reaches out, gently waving her tanned hand in front of glazed over eyes.

Mrs. Hogarty lunges at her, finally in motion, chubby hands gripping at the forearm of the girl and taking a bite from plush skin. Blood spurts from the wound, Jasmin screams in horror, alike to the rest of the few misdemeanours in the room.

Everyone is in motion. Some try to help Jasmin, others flee. You’re stuck. Truth is, though you boast agility, you’ve never been in a situation like this. Your mouth gapes like a fish, open, closed, searching for something to say, to do. A reaction befitting of this complete, disgusting travesty.

“C’mon, up. Let’s go.” Negan is talking to you, you realise. It’s like everything finally clicks back into motion, the water no longer clogging your ears, making everything muffled and distant. This is reality.

You scramble from the chair, grabbing books, pencils, hastily shoving them into your little brown bag.

But there’s a hand on your shoulder, urging you forward, towards the exit sitting towards the back of the classroom. “Leave it, no time.” Negan is telling you, helping you off the floor. Before the two of you can make a break for it, your hands clasp around the metal baseball bat.

It swings at your side as you leave the building, feet padding against the concrete of the pavement. It’s strangely… desolate. There is no increasing urgency, nobody around. It almost makes you question whether what happened was real. But you’re still walking, forward, away.

“Shouldn’t we help her?” You ask, to which Negan finally stops to look back at you. His brows furrow, confused, so you clarify. “Jasmin.”

“No, no, there isn’t any helping her,” He clarifies, talking slowly to try and get the idea in your head. “I read about this shit online, it’s in other countries. Europe. They aren’t people anymore.”

You don’t quite catch on, understand the severity of his words. But it makes sense. No person would act like that. Your feet begin to move again, travelling the familiar path.

“Hey, where are you going?” Negan calls out, and it’s only now that you become aware of the distance between you. Your head snaps into the direction of the bus stop, a silent answer, and Negan seems to deduct your intentions. He nods in the opposite direction. “C’mon.”

You obey, needing to skip in order to catch up with his longer strides. The bat is still clenched in your dominant hand, cold metal occasionally making contact with the side of your leg. It’s heavy, but you’re getting used to it.

As you approach the car park, the sun beats down, warming the asphalt. A few paces away is Negan’s truck, but before that, another person you quickly identify as an older student.

Stringy hair, grey skin, dull eyes. Arms reaching out, wandering aimlessly. The animated corpse seems to have some semblance of consciousness, as it spots you, limping over.

Preemptively, you take a step back, that familiar feeling of panic flooding your system at an unavoidable danger. Luckily, Negan appears to be significantly more composed than you are, as he’s reaching back for something. Extending a hand to you.

When you don’t react, he whistles, a high-pitched noise that instantly gets your attention. You did not know it yet, but this would become a familiar constant in your life. Nonetheless, you catch onto what he meant, letting the metal bat fall into his extended hand.

“Are you gonna…?” You don’t finish your question, as you’re unsure what exactly you think may happen. There’s a small part of you that doesn’t want to know.

Luckily, Negan provided little answers. “Go around and get in the truck.” He tells you, instructs you, and you listen simply because you trust him. Which, in this day and age, is dangerous.

You busy yourself with the seatbelt in order not to watch, able to mentally fill in the blanks as to the measure that Negan was taking. It made sense, you supposed. They weren’t alive anymore, couldn’t feel. Only wanted to hurt other people. Therefore, they needed to be put down.

There’s a clang as he places the baseball bat in the back of the truck, getting into the drivers seat and starting the engine. You watch this interest, unable to remember the last time somebody drove you anywhere. Never, if you recall correctly.

Thankful, Negan opts to ignore the way you inspect his every movement, like a little bird. Or a startled cat.

“Your address?” He requests, already making a start down the street that he would presume lead towards your house. It snaps you out of the little daze, face scrunching up.

“No, gross. I can’t give you my address,” You say in a matter-of-fact tone, as if the idea of completely insane. “You could be a predator, for all I know. That’s private information.”

Negan gives you that look again, the same one when you’d forged the signature. He can’t quite understand you. “Why would I work in a school if I was a predator? Tell me, how would I get that job.”

You shrug, “Maybe because that’s exactly what you want.”

He becomes fed up with your inane accusation, rolling his eyes. Yet, despite the attitude you’ve adopted, he does not get frustrated with you. “Address, now. I’m takin’ you home.”

There’s a large part of you that doesn’t even want to go home, yet you obey, providing Negan with your address to which he turns down the proper street. Luckily, you don’t live too far from school… or, unlucky, you suppose. For it isn’t long until you’re pulling into your driveway.

You get out, footsteps cautious against the pavement. A few meters away is an older lady, half alive, clinging to the path with desperate hands despite the concave appearance of her head. Your neighbour. She groans upon noticing you, but her legs are broken, and cannot move forward.

Remembering earlier, you move backwards towards the truck, fishing out the metal bat. It’s shiny metallic end is caked with reddish blood, stringing bits of decomposing guts hanging from it.

You can only make it a step forward until Negan is holding your shoulder again, pushing you in the opposite direction, towards the house. “Nope. Just leave her, she ain’t hurting anyone.”

Usually, you would detest being controlled. Told what to do. The shadow of an adult so close behind you, watching, letting their hands intrude on your space. But you didn’t feel threatened by Negan, which was odd. You weren’t going to complain about it, that’s for sure.

You ascend up the shallow stairs, coming to a stop in front of the door. When you reach out, pressing on the doorhandle, you’re shocked to find that it simply swings open, already sitting ajar. Dread fills your body.

It’s not that fearful, sickly dread that you get when you know you’ve done something wrong, and are awaiting the inevitable consequences. No, its.. different. You’ve felt it very few times before. Concern, worry. Knowing that something is wrong, and you cannot stop it.

Nonetheless, you enter the house. It’s in its familiar state, which provides a slight comfort to you, but Negan finds himself taken aback. It’s practically a mess. Every surface has something on it, whether it be pointless junk, or the garbage of bottles and cans. A few areas remain spotless, like the kitchen counter, and the bin remains empty and carefully tucked away.

It’s clear that you upkeep the small areas which you require for your autonomy. The rest of the place? Not your problem. It’s no wonder you don’t like being there.

As you pat further down the hallway, Negan draws his attention to the entrance. There’s a large bookshelf, though the books are dusty, likely long since actually used. A few slots are unusually empty, indicating that you’ve taken some to keep elsewhere.

But it’s the top shelf that draws his attention. Two photographs, positioned around thirty centimetres apart, with two respective urns behind them. One significantly smaller. Mother and daughter, he recognises. Mother and baby, actually.

It’s apparent that this is the home of a family that’s lost half of its inhabitance. He can’t help but wonder, is this the fate that will befall him, come Lucille’s death? Hopefully not. Nothing like this.

“Dad?”

Negan regains his sense of reality, curiosity piked as you’re speaking down the hall. He moves further into the space, standing in the kitchen as he observes you, there on the porch.

You stand near the doorway, that bat still hanging from one hand. In front of you, a figure, sitting down. Next to him, a half-empty case of beers. Part of Negan becomes increasingly alert, aware, prepared to avoid letting any harm befall you. A harm that you’re likely accustomed to.

There’s no response.

“C’mon. Just say something.” You urge, sounding utterly defeated. And yet, your father gives no response, despite the impending doom blanketing the situation.

It doesn’t take a genius to understand. The vicious, red welt on your fathers neck gives it away, jagged and seeping blood that stains his already unkept shirt. It’s a matter of time, at this point. You’d like to extract at least one, genuine conversation. Absolutely anything before he disappears forever.

That isn’t seeming very likely.

Your eyes drift around the yard, welling with tears not of sadness, but frustration. This is it? You are to become an orphan, the world is ending, and your piece-of-shit father won’t even look at you? In this moment, you wished he was angry.

You wished he would yell at you.

Pin you against the wall by your neck.

Bruise you. Beat you.

Anything other than this.

“I made the baseball team.” You tell him, another futile attempt to elicit any sort of reaction. Pride, maybe. Congratulate his young daughter for her achievement. Even the smallest hint of recognition would go a long way, pull you from this spiral you’ve begun to succumb to.

And what does he do?

He scoffs.

His arm lifts, taking another swig of the near empty bottle.

Finally, you’ve gotten your sign. A signal, a hint. The divine intervention that sets everything straight, reminds you of your place in this world. Just enough attention to keep you subdued, but satisfied. Complacent.

Anger overtakes you before you’re even aware of these emotions, wielding a surprising amount of strength for a pre-pubescent girl. You want to scream and shout and hurt him.

So you do.

It’s a knee-jerk reaction, really. Unplanned, messily executed. But would you have done it again? Certainly.

You cannot feel remorse for causing pain to a man who’s soul died long ago. Died with your mother, died with your infant sister. Tried to kill yours along with it all.

It’s already happened before you can understand.

There’s a distinct soreness in your shoulder, strained from swinging the metal baseball bat with such force. There are little blisters forming on your palms from how tight you’re gripping, clawing, clenching around the handle. The movement has shifted your whole body, but you don’t look down.

You don’t acknowledge the mess you’ve made.

Blood splattered across the wooden porch, some even hitting the adjacent fence. Skull broken, concave. Oozing sticky red.

The glass bottle rolls down the steps. Clink, clink, clink. It hits the plush grass, silenced.

It was inevitable, anyway. Whether to the virus, or your own hands, your father was going to die.

It was a mercy-kill, at best.

Vengeance at worst.

But that didn’t matter anymore, because when you turned around, he was there.

Negan.

Standing in the kitchen, watching you through the open door. He didn’t appear horrified, or disgusted. Maybe unsettled, sure. There was a darkness within you that he recognised, understood. Sure, he didn’t put it there, but over the years he would cultivate it, guide you. Raise you as somebody who would never be taken advantage of again.

Untouchable.

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #negan smith x reader #negan smith #twd x you #the walking dead #carl grimes

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lowkeyerror · 6 months

Text

A New Victim pt 3

Sam Carpenter x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Notes: Typical violence associated with series. Yes i edited this bc i wrote it in the wrong pove whoops

Summary: You and Sam stay behind while the others go to a party. Maybe that makes you vulnerable.

Masterlist | part 1 | part 2

You had been staying with Sam and Tara for a few days. You were still on edge, but grateful to not be alone during this situation. You felt protected by the sisters. The group in general was still a little skeptical of her, but Sam and Tara weren’t.

Tara made sure you had at least one other person with her on campus. Sam kept an eye on you off of campus, insisting on joining you on any errands you had to run.

Things began to fall into a routine and maybe this stalled some of your anxiety. Little did you know your anxiety was about to spike to unforeseen levels.

The apartment was full with the usual suspects. Albeit they were headed out to a part. Sam wasn’t fond of anyone going, but she tried her best to let them have a normal college experience. Tara had begged you to go with them, but as soon as you heard that Sam was staying behind, you declined the offer.

You weren’t going to express it to everyone, but you felt safest around Sam.

“ You’re sure you don’t want to go?” Tara asks one last time as they head out of the door.

“ I’m good here, you guys have fun.”

“ And be back at a reasonable time,” Sam adds.

Tara rolls her eyes at her older sister and closes the door behind her. The only one’s left in the apartment were you and Sam.

Sam’s gaze fell onto you . You were playing with the baggy sleeves of your hoodie. Sam had picked up on the fact that you weren’t much of a conversationalist. Sam didn’t usually have much to say either. Yet when you were in a space with just you and her, you felt compelled to speak.

“ You’re staring at me,” Your eyes cut over to Sam, who is in fact staring at you already.

“ Why didn’t you go to the party?” Sam deflects the attention.

You shrug, “ I just didn’t want to.”

Sam shakes her head, “You don’t think it’s safe.”

You fold your hands on your lap, “ Do you think it’s safe?”

Just as Sam is about to answer the question your phone begins to ring. You pale when you pick it up to see no caller ID. Sam sees this and instantly snatches the phone. She answers the call and is met with heavy breathing on the line.

“ Put Y/n on,” the voice is familiar to Sam, but it only brings back bad memories.

“ Why start this when you never survive? What’s the point of doing this?”

The voice laughs, “ What’s your favorite scary movie Samantha? Maybe we could reenact it.”

Sam is quick to bring you to your feet. She keeps a death grip on around your wrist as they walk around the apartment.

“ I will kill you,” Sam grits her teeth as she searches for the criminal.

“ Not if I kill you first,” the line goes dead after that.

“ Sam?”

The dark haired girl grabs a baseball bat and hands it to you while grabbing a knife for herself, “The son of a bitch is in here.”

You begin to tremble, “ I don’t know if I can do this.”

Sam didn’t get to comfort you as the masked assailant barged out of their hiding place in the closet. Ghostface moves quick making every step purposeful.

The closer he gets the faster you feel your heart beating. The slew of curses that fill your mind send you into a panic. You glance at Sam who has that dark look back in her eyes.

Sam is thinking as fast as she can. She wants to split from you, but she doesn’t want to take the chance of having the killer focus on you.

They seem to be in a stalemate. That is until Ghostface tries to leap over the countertop to attack you both. Sam moves expertly, but you don’t follow immediately. Instead you take a swing at the killer’s leg making them fall harshly on the floor.

“ Door now,” Sam says inching towards the exit of the house. You follow the directions given by the older girl.

Sam gets there before you, though you aren’t far behind. However you weren't moving fast enough. Sam sees this and grips the you, yanking you through the door, before slamming it. Together you ran hand in hand. You have no idea how far you've ran. All that you know is that you're out of breath.

You hunch over to catch your breath and feels a stinging pain on your back. Your hand hesitantly touches the spot and you hiss. When you look at your hand there’s blood.

“ Fuck,” Sam yells in frustration at the air. The woman is beyond angry at herself for allowing them to be put in this situation at all.

“ Hey, we’re ok,” You try to reassure Sam and yourself.

Sam takes a deep breath, but it’s almost pointless when she sees the blood on your hand. “ He got you when we were leaving. Turn around and let me see.”

You almost blush at the demand. In any other situation this would’ve had you melting. You feel Sam’s finger lightly graze your skin and shiver.

Sam sighs,” It’s too dark. I can’t see.”

“ I have the keys to my place,” you offer, unwilling to go back to the apartment. Sam frowns for second seemingly weighing her options then nods.

When you arrive at your place, the first thing you do is turn all the lights on. Sam begins checking the place before determining that the pair is alone. Once both are done, you lead Sam to the restroom.

“ I’ve got a little first aid somewhere in here,” you find it and hand it to the older Carpenter sister.

“ I need you to take off your shirt.”

Your brain short circuits. Sam feels this shift and begins to back track, but she stops herself as she watches you reach for the hem of her shirt.

Sam fights the urge she has to put her hands over the yours and assist you. For a moment too long Sam just stares at your back. She takes a deep inhale as she steps closer to you.

“ Doesn’t look too bad,” her voice is airy as she speaks. You simply nod unable to speak in such a vulnerable position. “ Is it alright if I...”

Sam grabs your side to pull you closer. She grabs materials from the first aid kit, and begins cleaning the wound. You flinch as the alcohol hits your wound.

“ Sorry baby,” Sam speaks unconsciously as she tries to disinfect the wound.

You blush, but try to keep quiet otherwise. When Sam finishes dressing the cut, she doesn’t move away from you. Instead she sighs heavily and rests her head on your bare shoulder. Slowly she snakes her arms around your waists. Usually in this situation you would panic, but all you do is place your hands on top of Sam’s.

“ I won’t let him get away with this,” she mumbles into your shoulder.

“ It’s just a scratch,” you try to calm her.

“ It wasn’t supposed to be just a scratch Y/n. He won't get the chance to do it again.”

You turn around so you're facing the woman, “ I think I handled myself pretty well.”

Sam sighs, “ You did, but you shouldn't have had to. I shouldn't have came up to you that day at the park. I dragged you into this shit storm.”

You shake your head as you gaze up at her, “ I’m glad you came up to me. Killer or no killer, I wouldn't trade that interaction for anything.”

Sam's eyes soften, “ He stabbed you.”

“ And you patched me up. Actually you saved my life because if you hadn’t pulled me through the door, I would’ve-“

“ It would've been my fault.”

You gently place your hand on the side of Sam’s face, “ It wouldn’t have been anyone’s fault except whoever was behind that mask.”

Sam leans into your touch, “ It only exist because of my father.”

The dark hair woman finds her face being tilted up so she could get a good look into the your eyes, “ Sam, I don’t care how you try to make yourself the bad guy here, but it’s obvious to me that the psycho killer with mask is the one at fault.”

Sam chuckles a bit at the statement, it sounds so obvious coming from your lips. The Carpenter sister let her eyes drift briefly to the lips she was thinking about. It wasn’t fast enough for you not to take note.

There was something that felt so normal about this all. Being this close together, hands on each other, there’s almost no tension. Sam can’t help inching her head towards the younger girl. You start to slowly move in too.

Your lips are centimeters apart from each other when Sam’s phone rings loudly, echoing across the bathroom. Both women practically jump apart.

“ We need you at the party, it’s Tara”

Taglist: @aiakuma @idkwhatiamdoingherebro

#lowkeyerror #samantha carpenter #samantha carpenter x reader #ghostface #tara carpenter #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #anika kayoko #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #sam carpenter imagine

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roosterforme · 1 year

Note

PARTY ROCKIN' 🤘🏼✨

- Rooster (DUH)

- "You are doing so well"

- Spanking

I'm kicking off the Smutsational Smutfest with this ask! Let's take a little glimpse into the future with Roo and Baby Girl (especially since their wedding is coming up soon!)

Written for my Smutsational Smutfest!

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

It was a bright, sunny day, perfect for a Padres game with your husband and your parents. You sat with your fingers linked with your husband's while he played with your rings.

"Dad, you're supposed to be on a diet," you reminded your father while he ordered two more hot dogs from one of the vendors.

"Aww, let him have some fun," Bradley said. "He's on vacation for the week."

You rolled your eyes at your husband. "You're not helping, Roo."

Your mom just shook her head. "Your father has no self discipline."

Bradley leaned in close to your ear and kissed you before whispering. "Is that where you get it from, Baby Girl?"

You quickly turned toward his smirking face. "I have plenty of self discipline," you told him defiantly. "Except when it comes to one thing." You let your hand drift up his thigh slowly as you turned toward the baseball game, feigning interest in the player up to bat. And then you gently palmed Bradley's cock through his jeans and squeezed.

He grunted, but he didn't move your hand away. Rather, he said probably loud enough for your parents to hear, "Do I need to discipline you right now?"

That's exactly how you ended up in the family bathroom, with your jeans and panties pushed down around your thighs and your hands planted on your knees.

"You can't keep your hands to yourself in public, can you?" Bradley asked, rubbing his large hand along your ass and down to your pussy before spanking you hard.

"No, Daddy," you whined, wiggling your butt back toward him for some more.

He spanked you again. "What's your punishment for grabbing my cock in front of your parents?"

You moaned so loudly, the sound echoed off the tiled walls. "Spanking," you answered, but it really wasn't a punishment at all. You knew it, and Bradley knew it, too.

As his palm connected with your sensitive flesh over and over, you bit your lip to keep quiet.

"You are doing so well, Baby Girl. You ready for me to fuck you now?"

"Pease, Daddy!" you nearly shouted, and then he was inside you.

He wasn't going slow or trying to make you feel good, he was just fucking you hard and fast. Which was definitely working for you.

"You're always so fucking wet for me," he growled, hands wrapped tight around your hips. The slapping sounds of skin on skin filled the small space, along with his panting and your soft whimpers.

"I need it, Daddy," you gasped, voice getting higher as you felt the first squeeze of your pussy around his thick cock.

You grabbed your knees tighter as he said, "I'm going to fill you up. Fuck you full of my cum. And you'll keep it inside you for the rest of the day." His palm landed on your butt one more time, and then you were spiraling into your orgasm as he came in your pussy.

A moment later, when his semen was soaking through your lace panties and coating the inside of your jeans, you opened the door. The line of unamused people waiting for the restroom had you and Bradley laughing as he wrapped his arm around you.

"That was fun, Roo," you said with a grin, placing a kiss on his neck. "I really learned my lesson, too."

"No, you didn't," he whispered, squeezing your waist and making you giggle. "You're a brat, Sweetheart. A brat who I hope I can say I knocked up at a Padres game."

----------------------------------------------------------

I hope you loved it @mak-32

#4k smutsational smutfest #top gun smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x female reader

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weird-an · 1 year

Text

Jim never expected to have to take care of two kids. It's a blessing as much as it is a curse.

But he's sure it had been two kids. Not three. He stares at Steve Harrington sitting next to Billy on the couch. The kid had been over yesterday, too.

Jim only knows his dad - and he's an arrogant prick. He knows Steve has some balls, going after monsters with a baseball bat - or maybe he's just crazy.

Here's the thing: Billy is fucking sensitive. He denies it, but some nights Jim hears him crying in his sleep and offers him a cigarette when Billy pretends to just want to get some air after. On a few days Billy is silent, keeping to himself and flinching at every noise.

He doesn't know if Harrington is good for Billy. A rich kid, nose up in the air, wearing ugly polo shirts. But he keeps his mouth shut. He lets the kid come over every fucking day. It's not his place as long as Steve doesn't hurt Billy.

He hopes he doesn't have to threaten a teenager.

He gets the answer to his worries only a few days later. Steve has been over every evening, right after school. Some night he even stayed over. It had been fine, but Billy had been fine.

Today? Today is a bad day. Billy comes home, lips thin with anger and a scratch on his cheek.

Jim knows Billy is trying. Jim knows it, because he tries to keep it together as well. It gets better the older he gets, but it doesn't go away. The anger is always there, waiting for a moment of weakness, to burn everything to the ground.

Steve rings the bell. He's always there right after Billy comes home.

"How bad is it?" he asks, when Jim opens the door, because Billy hides in his room.

"He's not talking," Jim says, a bit baffled. He doesn't know what to do on these days. Billy doesn't answer and just stares at him. It's scary. And it hurts, a bit.

"Okay." Steve nods as if he expected that answer. He has a bag of sour candies in his hands. "Maybe we could order pizza, for dinner?"

Jim frowns. "Why would we.."

"Neil didn't allow it." Steve shrugs and stares at his feet.

Why does Steve knows all this? Jim knows he's a good friend, but he didn't know why Billy would trust Steve with all of that?

Wait. He comes over every day. He knows all about Billy. If Steve was a girl…

It's a hunch. A stupid one, perhaps

"Are you...?" It's so fucking obvious, now that he thinks about it.

Steve's cheeks turn red. "That's... Billy should..."

"Okay," Jim cuts him off, feeling his own face burn as well. "Pepperoni?"

Steve's shoulders slack in relief. "Yeah. I'll go check on Billy."

Maybe Steve coming over isn't too bad. Maybe three kids basically living with him isn't too bad. Maybe Steve isn't too bad - but now he has to worry about other, different things.

#jim gets more and more people living with him every time i write #harringrove #harringrove & hopper #jim hopper #steve x billy #billy hargrove deserved better

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narcissarina · 2 months

Text

Darkened Desires

Prologue and Chapter 1: The sun || Chapter 2: The moon || Chapter 3: The moon || Chapter 4: The sun || Chapter 5: The sun

Pairings: Mafia!Scaramouche × Barista!Reader

Word count: 1,373

Tw: praise kink, degradation, kidnapping, tourture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, gore, deaths, age-gap, corruption, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, mentions of human trafficking on the near chapters, slowburn.

Warning: This fanfiction may contain kidnapping, torture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, age-gap, corruption, vigilante Scaramouche, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, and more. This fiction will continue grow darker as chapters goes by.

Your mental health matters.

CHAPTER 6:

THE MOON

I took her to a familiar flower shop, base on her files—I coincidentally made her meet up a friend, I watch her laugh, smile, and tease around with her friend. I get constant glance from her friend, who seems to be suspecting something but didn’t say anything.

I could only smile, not just an ordinary friendly smile. I smiled with intent of possible murder, dark and twisted smile that gave her friend a shudder.

Funny enough, I could stand for a minute or so until a figure I caught in my eye stood out, they were rushing and sweating, a boner in his pants as he disappeared in the alley across the road.

I lean down to my sunshine to excuse myself, she could only nod and hum timidly, fuck. How I could just fucked her in the car right here and there, but patience is virtue right?

Left and right, I look at passing motorcycles and cars as I made my way down the road. I rush a little, not wanting him to get out of my sight, I turn left and saw him went through that door. I took my gun out, held it firmly in between my fingers, my other hand on the knob—turning it and using my body to rush in.

It was dim, but not too dark.

“Hands up and on your fucking knees!” I said, wow. I sounded like a shitting police officer—I am not doing that again. And it fucking smells here, as if someone just got done emptying their balls.

Of course, fucking sickos.

I shot the ground, the sound ringing in every corner of this room. I see a girl whimpering from pain as a grown ass man was gripping the poor girls hair tightly, “let go of her,” I said, pointing and threatening to shoot.

He listens and the girl came running at me, “good boy,” I shot him. Right in the leg while covering the girls ear and hugging her tightly close to me, “fucker.” I curse and turn to the girl, I heard the man scream—calling a backup huh? I hear footsteps come running down, I put the girl outside and held her shoulder, “hey, little girl. Run and take a right, go to the lady that’s sitting on the flower shop. She’ll help you, and tell the guards that’s stand behind her that I need help. Can you do that?” I spoke in a soft warm tone.

She nodded and gave a quick hug, “thank you, mister.” She said, poor girl. “The big bad man hasn’t touch you nor harm you right?” I quickly asked, just to be sure because I’ll hurt him back. She nodded, “just pulled my hair..” she said and told her to go now, that was all I need to fucking know. I’m going to have fun fucking this bastards up.

“H-Hey!” someone shouted, holding a baseball bat, I turn when I’m assured that the girl finally ran and disappeared out of my sight—knowing that she’ll be safe in my sunshine’s arms and guidance.

Gun in hand, I smiled, “what’s up gentlemen?”

“Don’t get involve here, don’t think you know us!”

“But I do… Know you.” I point my gun to him, as I whisper those two words, that I know them. Although I plan on fucking them up later, I never thought I would have a last minute change of plan. How laughable.

I should make this quick, and I hope those guards hurry up or else I’m not giving their payment. Don’t want to worry my sunshine.

He started running after me as I quickly shot him in his knee perfectly, he yelled in pain, “what you all standing there?! Get him!” he yelled, I could only scoff at how weak they are. Not to mention they’re a little taller and intimidating than me, while I’m only a few inches shorter and a baby faced… I want to burst out and laugh at how pathetic their attempts are.

This is getting annoying, earlier I was having fun fucking them up but they keep on coming, not accepting defeat—how much I fucking wanted to put a bullet on their fucking shitty head. All of them on the ground, his team unconscious and knocked out cold, no I didn’t used force. Why is that? Because I knew she’ll call the cops, I’ll make sure to put a bullet in each of their head when they’re in prison.

I sigh and groan, mother fucker manage to stab me right on the abdomen. Taking deep breaths as I make my way to that pedophile that’s been with the poor girl, I crouch down and position my gun in his head, he whimper and cries—pleading for his life.

“Aren’t you the one who abuse your wife? Instead of pleasure, you bruise her and cause her great pain in intercourse, where you only think of your fucking dick.” I said, pushing my gun harder into his face till it bruises, “y-yes, yes! That’s me, if saying this would make you have mercy at me then I confess!” he said, I click my tongue, my finger threatening to pull the fucking trigger.

“Who said that I’m going to let you go?”

Bang—

“Sir! Sir!” one of my guards called, they entered the room—rushing and sweating, “you’re all late.” I said, they bow and apologize repeatedly, I stood up and held my stabbed abdomen. One of them went pale and starts to panic.

“I can still walk, no need to carry me.” I assure in advance, clothes bloody and filled with sweat. Each walk I softly groan until I finally see the light—my light. She was talking to the police and the girl was clinging to him. She’ll be a great mother, I knew that—why? She’ll b filled with my children and she’ll be the one carrying them for nine fucking months.

She noticed and went pale when she saw that I got hurt fighting off those pedophiles and abusers, the guards help me cross the road and sat me down to the chair.

The police were horrified on what they saw and immediately took action and went to the alley where I beat and knock them all up—well, except for that one man who I put a bullet in his head.

“Let’s take you to the nearest hospital, sir.” One of the officer said, inspecting my wound.

“It’s just a stab, it’ll be fine.” I sarcastically remarked and rolled my eyes, my gaze went to the girl and smiled at her. She started crying and flew into my arms, “hey there.”

She kept apologizing again and again, “It’s not your fault”

“but you got hurt.” She sniffs.

“if getting hurt means saving you, then I’ll do it over and over again.” I pat her head and turn to the police officer, “you know where her parents are?”

They nodded and said that they’ll be right here, rushing.

I look at her, her eyes filled with pity and anger. She’s so cute, I could burst and have her kneel to suck my dick. But I can’t, I’m injured too, maybe I could make her nurse me.

The thought made me smile a little wickedly.

Yeah, it’ll be fun.

So fun that I didn’t noticed the girls parents, they thanked me for saving their daughter and they waved goodbye—before leaving, the girl looked back at me once again before driving off to her home. Where she is finally safe and with her family.

“you look kinda familiar.” One of the medic said, I raise a brow and smiled at him. “Oh?” I snicker, “aren’t you a mafia?” my heart sank but I kept a straight smiling safe, “now that remark wound me, sir. How could I possibly a mafia?” I asked, sunshine is just beside me—piercing me with her stare.

“quit it, John. Can’t you see the poor man injured? Not to mention he saved a little girl and five abused women in that house.” One officer smack him at the back of his head, “sorry. I hope I didn’t offend.”

“none taken.” I smiled and look at sunshine.

“Are you mad?”

“fuck you.”

“love you too, sweetheart.”

Link:

Chapter 7: THE MOON

#genshin impact #Changed my theme pallette!#genshin smut #dark romance #darkened desires series #scaramouche smut #scaramouche fanfic #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche #genshin scara #Mafia!Scaramouche #Mafia!Scara

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holylulusworld · 8 months

Text

Big girls don't cry (4)

Summary: You are no stranger to heartbreak.

Pairing: CEO!Steve Rogers x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, strong reader, mentions of former heartbreak, arguments, regret, fear of commitment, abandonment issues,

Big girls don’t cry masterlist

Part 3

“Stevie, go in there and talk to her,” Bucky groans. “I didn’t almost get killed by your angry girlfriend only for you to chicken out now. Go—”

Bucky shoves his friend toward the door.

“What if she doesn’t want to see me? Y/N hates me now, and I can only blame myself. I let my insecurities and fear of commitment get the best out of me.”

“Yeah, you fucked things up big time, punk. Now go in there and fix things with your lovely lady. You love that woman, right?”

“I had the ring, and the proposal planned and chose the easy way out. I got scared. Scared that she’ll laugh at me. Or even worse, say no. I saw her throw the ring in my face and run off. I’m not worthy of her love.”

“Y/N is a great person. She’s kind, smart and caring. I can’t imagine her doing such a thing. If you are honest with her, she’ll not break your heart,” Bucky smirks. “Maybe she breaks your dick with her baseball bat, though.”

“Buck,” Steve reaches for the door handle, “whatever happens now. Thank you for trying.”

“Just don’t chicken out or get your dick out,” the brunette chuckles. “I can tell, women don’t like it when you get it out after a fight.”

“What?” Steve side-eyes his friend. “What did you do, Buck?”

Bucky shrugs. “It was a case of miscommunication. I thought she wanted to have make-up sex, and she wanted to break up with me.”

“You’re unbelievable. I can’t believe I asked you for advice on relationship problems.”

“Hey, what can I say? The ladies love me?” Bucky grins. “But enough of me and my perfect face, and dick. You should go inside and finally talk to her. People are watching.”

“Hi, uh- thank you for letting me come here. Bucky said you will hear me out,” Steve awkwardly stands in the middle of the empty bakery. “Not many people around today.”

“We are renovating,” you quip, not even sparing Steve a glance. You practiced this conversation in front of the mirror and can’t show weakness. “I told you so a month ago.”

“I didn’t know it was this one,” he licks his lips. “You scared the shit out of Bucky.” He chuckles. “And I can tell, Bucky never gets scared.”

“He’s a baby,” you snicker. “Your friend almost peed his pants when I got the baseball bat out.” It feels awkward being around Steve again. “You wanted to talk, so talk.”

“Maybe…you could start,” Steve stammers. “I know you are angry and hurt. And you have every right to be angry. What I said was awful, and I know now that you went through so much in the past that you cannot forgive me. I just wanted you to know that I—”

He hesitates. Steve looks at his shoes, shaking his head. He takes a few deep breaths. “Sorry, I need…shit…”

“What do you want to say, Steve?”

“I-I love you,” he almost yells. It’s the first time he has said it with fear in his eyes. “I know that I said it before, but I wanted you to hear it one last time.”

“Steve, I thought we wanted to talk. This was more like a monologue. I wanted to talk about the things Bucky told me about your past. Why did you never tell me about the people bullying you.”

“I could ask you the same,” he gives you a cracked smile. “I-I was ashamed, I guess. I wasn’t always like this. Back then, I tried so hard to fit in. It was never enough, though. Not once was I good enough for anyone.”

“Boys always treated me like I’m not good enough to be seen with them,” you sniffle. “When you said all those things, I felt like the little girl who got her heart broken for the first time.”

“Y/N…” He fights the tears. “I was a weak and thin boy back then. Sick too. No one wanted to be my friend but Bucky. He was tall, cocky, and popular. They didn’t understand why he was my friend. I didn’t get it myself. He could’ve been friends with everyone.”

“He’s a nice guy,” you wipe your eyes and sniffle. “And a good friend. He almost got hit by a baseball bat for you.”

“When I liked a girl for the first time, she punched my nose and called me a loser. I was like six or seven.” He sighs deeply. “I know, this is no excuse.”

“It is not. I got rejected all my life too, but I would never do such a thing to you. I loved you so, and then you say something like that,” You push the tears away. “I was so happy, and you broke my heart.”

“I’m so sorry, doll. All my life I tried to forget about my past, and the weak boy from back then.” Steve takes a step toward you, holding out his hand. “In my teens, I fell in love with a girl. I believed she liked me too.”

“She told everyone about it, didn’t she?” You softly ask. “Bucky told me about it. What was her name?”

“Peggy Carter,” Steve winces when her name leaves his lips. “I realized she only liked me as long as I helped her get better grades.”

“Same here,” you take his offered hand to squeeze it tightly. “I was twelve. At least I shoved the bastard against the wall and called him a dipshit.”

Steve grins. “I’m glad you did, doll.”

“Do you want to hear a fun fact?” Steve places your hand on his chest. “I met her two years ago. She didn’t even remember me. Imagine, Peggy was all over me and tried to get in my pants.”

“No way.”

“I turned her down, though. She got mad. I bet Peggy Carter never got turned down before. Well, I told her it’s payback for what she did to me when I was a kid.”

“Good for you. I mean, that you go the chance to pay her back.” You glance up at Steve, feeling unsure of how to proceed now. You’ve missed him so much, but you are scared to give in to him only to get hurt again. “Steve, I can’t go back to what we had so easily. I need…”

“I know, baby doll,” he wraps his arms around you to at least hold you one last time. “Please never believe you are not worthy of love, or that you should settle for someone who’s not worthy of your love. I wish you love. A love that will give you everything you’ll ever need…”

Part 5

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers #au!steve rogers x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #ceo!steve rogers #plussized!reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #Big girls don't cry (4)

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jaeeyaaasworld · 11 months

Text

Toxic - LH44

Featuring: Lewis Hamilton x Y/n

Warnings: Y/n is right out of a toxic and abusive relationship, Lewis is a sweetheart (we stan), former overweight Y/n, Lewis is a bit of a simp (but we love it, come on)

Requested: Yes/No

Lewis' phone started ringing randomly as soon as he entered his own house after a date with his girlfriend Y/n, he actually invited her over for the night, but she said that she would've liked to rest a bit in her own home, so he just accepted it and drove to his house after a goodbye kiss from his lover.

he took his phone out of his pocket, his eyebrows furrowing at seeing the caller id, but he quickly picked up the phone.

"hey, baby. are you okay? did something happen?"

the concern could be heard in the driver's voice, knowing what Y/n's past boyfriend did to her and how he treated her, the worry was high, he was expecting anything.

"uhm... yeah, I have a problem"

she started, her voice was trembling, it felt like she was crying. her words were enough to make Lewis take the car keys that he threw in their place and rush out of his house, quickly making his way down the stairs.

"what type of problem exactly?"

Lewis asked back, trying his best to not sound too worried and worry his girlfriend even more, just as he got to his car and started driving towards Y/n's house.

"he is... threatening me that he will come here and break into my house because he saw me around with you. I-I don't know what to do"

Y/n was panicking at this point, practically sobbing while being on the phone with him. hearing her like this broke his heart and he quickly found himself pushing the pedal on the floor to reach his girl as fast as possible, hoping he would be faster than that asshole would be.

"it's okay baby, I'm coming over, alright? no one will be able to touch you when I'm around, okay? I'm almost in front of your house, give me five minutes, hold on"

he said as he got closer and closer to her house. as soon as he reached her front yard, he parked the car and got out in a rush, almost knocking the door down to get in.

"no, you have to come with me"

Lewis heard a male voice shouting, and he knew that some shit was about to go down. he quickly looked around the room, finding a baseball bat just sitting around in his girlfriend's living room, he couldn't leave it there, so he took it with him.

his shoulder pushed the door of the master bedroom open, the bat hidden behind his back, didn't want to scare the boy there.

"hey, man. could you explain what you're doing in my girlfriend's house?"

he calmly asked. the man turned around, his jaw clanched and his eyes were spitting fire. as he moved, Lewis could get a glimpes of Y/n sitting on the ground, her beautiful bottom lip was busted. he couldn't have that, his blood was boiling.

"nah man. this whore is your girlfriend? I'm telling you: when we fucked, before you got here and all that stuff, I couldn't even stand to look at her face, I always had to think about someone else. I don't think you hit a jackpot with this one"

Y/n's ex started, Lewis' eyes narrowed as he listened to him speak.

"listen- you are a handsome man, you could get any girl you want. leave this one to me, you ain't losing anything special, trust me"

he finished his little speech.

"so... Noah? is that the name?"

Lewis asked the man in front of him, Y/n never told him his name and he didn't want to know, he just said a random name to piss him off.

"Derek... but whatever"

her ex said, a huge sigh leaving his mouth.

"oh- so Derek, I really suggest you to get out of here now that I'm still in my senses"

a chuckle left the man's lips.

"come on, man. I'm giving you an offer that you can't decline, I could get this one off your shoulders"

he said pointing his finger to Y/n, still on the floor with her knees up to her chest.

"Derek, I don't want to get to violence, it's really not my cup of tea. but you leave me no choice"

Lewis slowly pulled the bat out from behind his back, swirling it around while taking a good look at it. a little shiver run down Derek's back, it was so deep that he could see that too and it made a little smile come up to his lips.

"woah, t-there's no need for that"

Derek said, his hands in front of him to put a little distance between them while Lewis extended his hand, waiting for something, just to earn a confused expression from the man.

"the keys"

he said, the man understood. he took out Y/n's house keys from his pocket and threw them over to Lewis, as he cought them effortlessly.

"now get out of here"

the man nodded his head, getting out of the room with Lewis' eyes following his every movement till he was out the front door. in that moment he left everything that was in his hands on the ground and rushed to his girlfriend, his hands cupping her cheeks.

"could you tell me what happened, love?"

he softly asked, his thumb caressing her lower lip and wipe some bit of blood that was resting there.

"he slapped me, and called me names. can I come to yours tonight?"

she cut everything short, not wanting to talk about it, so he just let her be.

"sure, honey. you can come whenever you want"

after a month

it was finally time for Lewis' summer break and he couldn't wait to take Y/n to a little trip to Rome, he couldn't wait to go himself. as soon as they got off the plane he took the car he rented for the trip and drove to the five star hotel he booked for them.

"how does this look, baby?"

he asked his girl with a smile on his face. Lewis watched Y/n get on the balcony and lean on the railing to watch the scenery in front of them; one of the busy streets of Rome and a big old palace in front of their hotel.

his hands placed themselves on both his girlfriend's sides, his chin resting gently on her shoulder.

"it looks amazing, I can't wait to go visit around"

she said, excitement could be heard in her voice as she couldn't keep it in.

"let's go than, we will grab something to eat at the cute restaurant that you saw earlier and go visit around after"

he said, patting her on her butt and leaving a kiss to her cheek as he left her on the balcony to take the car keys, his wallet and his phone.

Y/n got in from the balcony and took everything she needed and put it in her purse, reaching her boyfriend that was waiting for her in front of the door. he intertwined their hands together and walked out the door towards the car.

at the restaurant

the couple was seated on a table as the menus were resting in their hands. Lewis put down his as he chose what he wanted to eat.

"I think I'll take a carbonara, I really want to see how it is"

he said, his elbows resting on the table as he leaned on it, Y/n smiling at him as she chose.

"I think a salad will do for me"

she finally said, making Lewis tilt his head in disapproval.

"baby"

Lewis said back to her, it almost sounded like a warning but filled with love and affection.

"what?"

Y/n asked back, a small chuckle leaving her lips as she placed down the menu to look at her boyfriend's face and intertwine their fingers on the table.

"you can have that as a side dish alright? pick something real first"

he said again, his thumb caressing the back of Y/n's hand, as she taught about what to eat again.

"a cacio e pepe than"

she finally agreed, making Lewis smile and kiss his girlfriend's knuckles.

"see? good girl"

later that night, back at the hotel

Y/n and Lewis got back at the hotel that was almost midnight, after they had a romantic dinner date over a wine glass. they didn't even get it that Lewis already stopped her by placing himself in front of the girl, his hands engulfing hers.

"I asked the room service to run a romantic bath in the jacuzzi that we have in here, so... how about you go change in that bikini that I bought you today and jump in with me, mh?"

he asked, inching closer every passing second. as soon as he got a little nod from Y/n, he gently placed his lips on hers.

"great, I'll be waiting for you there, alright?"

Lewis asked again, a big smile splitting his face in half, just like Y/n.

"alright"

she whispered back, as he walked to the jacuzzi and she walked into the bedroom to change into the bikini. she put the bikini on, but when she saw her image in the mirror in front of her, she could only see the old 'fat ass' that she was a year ago.

Y/n put on two punds since she got with Lewis, that always encouraged her to eat properly and not just some shitty salad or whatever. her hands gripped on her stomach and on her thighs.

"love, are you not comi- oh, damn, those curves"

Lewis asked, walking into the room and finding his lover in the best bikini that he ever saw, he couldn't be more grateful to himself for buying everything his girl even glanced at.

his hands slided onto her sides and her thighs as his lips met her shoulder, kissing softly as his naked chest came in contact with her back.

"you look so good, I might just- baby, what's that look?"

he asked as his eyes met hers through the mirror and he saw the sadness, disappointment and guilt.

"you wanna know how much I gained since we got together, Lewis?"

she started, a sad smile on her face making Lewis let out a little chuckle.

"I actually don't, I can't really see it anyway. and if you have gained a pound, it's going in the right places, baby"

Lewis said, smacking her butt as a laugh left her lips.

"come on, let's go. I need this cute little ass on my lap while I'm sitting in a jacuzzi, right now"

he added, patting her ass gently as she started walking towards the jacuzzi, leaving Lewis some feets behind her.

"damn, I'm a lucky man"

#formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 x you #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x y/n #mercedes #mercedes formula one #mercedes f1 #lh44

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imagines-all-day-everyday · 2 years

Text

bat outta hell

chapter one: eddie munson always knew he was metal. or at least that's what he thought until he ends up in an alternate dimension fighting satanic bats and a certain hawkins sweetheart comes to his rescue.

warnings: swearing, s 4 spoilers, fluffffff <3

Notes: as if this is my first eddie fic omg.

Series Masterlist

Eddie Munson was metal.

He was the leader of the Hellfire Club, he played in a hardcore band, he had some sweet tatties. Yeah, he thought he was pretty darn metal if he said so himself.

That was until he watched two ladies jump headfirst into a freezing lake after Steve "the hair" Harrington without hesitation. Until he found himself surrounded by what he could only describe as bat-like creatures that seemed hellbent on eating the four teenagers alive.

"God damn it shit." He shrieked as he swung the oar clumsily at one of the creatures, the wood snapping clean in half as it made contact.

"Come on you son of a bitch!" He shouted as he held the broken oar up, his eyes glued to the sky as the bats continued to circle.

"Eddie watch out!"

Eddie turned just in time to see a flap of wings and sharp teeth gnashing and all he could do was squeeze his eyes shut as he prepared for the inevitable pain he was about to endure.

But it never came. Instead, an anguished squeal reached his ears followed by a slick thud as something hit the ground in front of him. He peaked an eye open to see the creature that was about to cause his demise lying dead at his feet, an arrow protruding from its chest.

Eddie stumbled back, his eyes wide as he watched arrows sail through the air, the red lightning illuminating them as they each found their targets with deadly precision.

Eddie's eyes darted from the sky in time to see another bat aiming for Steve, who was completely defenceless as he tried to get up onto his feet.

"Duck!" An unfamiliar voice called out.

Steve ducked instantly, just in time as an arrow wizzed over his head and lodged into the left wing of the bat, pinning it to the ground.

Eddie whirled around in time to see a figure run past him towards Steve. A baseball bat rose up into the air, metal encased fingers glinted back at him as they brought the bat down with full force. A squelching noise intermingled with the whining of the creature rung out.

Then, silence.

"Steve! Are you ok?" Nancy was at Steve's side in a second as the stranger extended a hand to help him up. Steve barely even registered Nancy's voice as he stared up at his saviour, his eyes wide as her soft hand enveloped his and tugged him up.

"Jesus H Christ!" Eddie shrieked, his chest heaving as he threw down the broken oar, his eyes scanning the sky. The sound of a soft chuckle made Eddie turn around once more to see that the anonymous stranger had finally turned around to face him.

His lips parted in surprise at the sight of a girl about their age, staring back at him. Her hair matted and down to her shoulders, dirt and grime smeared all over her face and body, with a backpack slung over one shoulder and a bow over the other.

They locked eyes as she slung the bat up to rest on the back of her shoulder blades, the end of it glistening in the blood of the bat creature. Ringed fingers curled around the handle tightly as an amused smirk remained on her features.

A spark of recognition coursed through him as he studied her face. She looked so achingly familiar but he just couldn't place it, he knew her, somehow.

All eyes were on her, wide and in shock, Steve, Robin, Eddie and Nancy's chests heaving up and down at an uneven rate as they combed every inch of her body. They all mentally reached the same conclusion. They'd been saved by a badass.

"*yn*?"

Their saviour turned to face Nancy at the sound of the name.

Then it clicked for Eddie. *yn*, as in *yn* *yln*. The editor of the school newspaper, captain of the volleyball team, on track for class valedictorian, all round Hawkins sweetheart.

He'd heard her name mentioned a few times in the hallways of Hawkins High but never bothered to really put a name to a face. He'd had more important things to do, like run Hellfire Club.

But now as he stared at her in awe, Eddie wondered why the hell he had never taken the time to notice her before.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing Wheeler." *yn* answered, brows raised in surprise.

"How did you-"

"Listen, while I would love to have a little catch up, there are a lot more of our little friends on their way so I strongly suggest we find cover."

"I'm sure we can take them." Steve answered her.

Nancy opened her mouth to also protest when a screech in the distance made all five teenagers jerk their heads around. Eddie froze when a black swarm of bats rose up through the red clouds, rising over the top of them and approaching fast. There must have been hundreds, if not thousands.

"I recommend the woods, personally." *yn* breathed out as her grip on the bat tightened.

"I endorse that recommendation, yep." Robin nodded her head frantically.

"Woods sound like a sweeeet idea to me." Eddie murmured.

"Good." *yn* nodded calmly. "Then let's go."

Eddie watched as she took off in the direction of the woods without as much as a second glance behind her. It was as if they didn't have demonic bat creatures hot on their heels, like she was just off for a morning jog before heading to school.

Yeah outside D&D, Eddie Munson was not metal.

*yn* *yln* though? Yeah. She was fucking metal.

-------------------

*yn* tried to catch her breath as she watched the bats fly overhead, having thrown them off their scent in the thick undergrowth. Her body was aching and her lungs were screaming as she pressed her back against the cool rock surface. She could feel Eddie Munson's hair brushing against her shoulder every so often as the five huddled together under Skull Rock.

The eternal senior, the leader of the Hellfire Club, band member of Corroded Coffin, part time drug dealer and full time social outcast. The self titled freak. Eddie "the freak" Munson's reputation proceeded him. Even if you lived under a rock like this one, you knew the name Eddie Munson.

However, *yn* had never paid much attention to him, she was far too busy to worry about some drop kick, too focused on getting into her dream college. She definitely never thought that she'd save his life and then be squeezed in next to him while they hid from alter-dimensional bats.

"Ok, I think we're good." Robin breathed out after a few moments as she slowly crept out from their hiding spot.

"We should be ok for a while now, it takes a lot to get their attention." *yn* explained as they all rose to their feet.

"Steve?" Everyone turned to see Steve slumped against the side of the cave, gripping his abdomen tightly.

"I'm fine." He squeaked out, wincing as he slid down to the ground.

"No, no, no. No you're not, you're losing blood." Nancy panicked as she crouched down in front of him, examining his wounds.

"Here, I've got bandages and antiseptic." *yn* spoke as she dumped her backpack on the ground.

Eddie peered over her shoulder to see the bag was full of supplies: arrows, bandages, water, food.

"Woah. You are fully stocked." He observed as she pulled out a roll of bandages and ointment.

"I have more back at my camp, not sure how much good it will do us though." She sighed as she handed the supplies to Nancy who quickly thanked her before beginning to dress Steve's wounds.

"Do you guys think these bats have rabies?" Robin murmured as she studied Steve's injuries.

"Cause like getting rabies is my number one fear and I really don't think I could handle it if Steve got rabies and went feral and all that stuff." Robin continued as *yn* took a seat and pulled out more bandages.

"I think we are in the clear for rabies, unless I've been foaming at the mouth and you guys haven't informed me." *yn* joked lightly as she patted her leg just underneath where her denim shorts ended, drawing everyones attention to the blood stained bandage wrapped around her thigh.

"Shitheads took a good sized chunk of me when I first got here."

"How long have you been here exactly?" Nancy queried.

"Well, I went to go check out the sight of Fred's murder the day after it happened and that was..." *yn* trailed off, her brow furrowing as she tried to piece together how long it had been. That was when she realised that she didn't have an answer. There was no day or night wherever they were, she had no way of telling how much time had passed.

"Three days ago." Robin interjected causing *yn*'s brow to raise.

"I've been in this shithole for three days?" *yn* let out a low whistle. "Thank god my parents are away or I would have been so grounded."

"You are scarily calm for someone who has been trapped in another dimension for three whole days." Robin observed as *yn* peeled off the blood soaked bandage.

"I'm good at compartmentalising." *yn* shrugged, "I'm sure once we get out of here I'll be in intensive therapy for the rest of my life but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Eddie studied her in disbelief, both simultaneously confused and incredibly impressed at just how calm she was being. It made him feel rather stupid about his several tantrums and freak outs since they'd gotten here.

"How the hell did you get here anyway?" Steve asked, wincing as Nancy applied some antiseptic to his wounds.

"Well after Fred got murdered I went to check out the site, see what I could find out. I thought the whole thing was strange, especially when my best reporter who'd been with Fred the day he died didn't show up for work, y'know?" *yn* explained, nodding her head towards Nancy.

"And that was when I saw this weird hole that was moving, like it was alive almost. Anyway, obviously I had to see what was on the other side and then-" *yn* gestured around. "Here I was. And I thought not only had I found the best front page story that Hawkins has ever seen but my god would this be a great story for my college application letters. I thought I couldn't be more lucky." She chuckled humourously, shaking her head at just how wrong she had been.

"But then you got stuck..." Robin murmured to which *yn* nodded as she gritted her teeth and pulled the fresh gauze tightly around her thigh.

"Yep, those little vermin guard that gate like their lives depend on it. But hey," She shrugged as she finished securing the bandage, "now you're all here maybe we've actually got a shot at getting out of here."

With that she rose to her feet and dusted herself off, surveying her surroundings with a determined glint in her eye. Eddie took this opportunity to scale a rock, his mind racing as he took in the dreary environment.

Robin wondered back over to Steve and Nancy, her eyes wide as she studied *yn*.

"Who'd have thought *yn* *yln* would be such a badass?" Robin whispered to them.

"Yeah..." Steve trailed off, his eyes glued to *yn*'s imposing stance in awe as he replied. "You'd think we'd be used to the unexpected by now, huh?" Steve continued before grimacing as Nancy unexpectedly pulled the cloth tighter, grating against his open wound.

"So uh, this place is like Hawkins but with monsters and nasty shit?" Eddie asked, glancing down at the others.

"Pretty much, yeah." Nancy nodded, getting up once Steve's wound was dressed. "Watch out for the vines." She warned as Eddie went to step down from the boulder. "It's all a hive mind."

"A what?"

"All the creepy crawlies around here dude." Steve chimed in. "They're all like one or something, you step on a vine you're stepping on a bat, you're stepping on Vecna."

"Who or what is a Vecna?" *yn* butted in, her brow creased as she glanced around the group.

"Oh boy." Eddie let out a low whistle. "Do you have a lot to catch up on sweetheart."

"What am I missing? Did you guys know about this place before?" *yn* asked, her eyes narrowing as she studied Nancy's face. "Have you been holding out on me Wheeler? This could be the story of the century!"

"Ok look I promise I'll tell you everything, but right now we've got to figure out how to get out of here." Nancy responded.

*yn* bit her tongue, forcing down the onslaught of interrogative questions she had waiting in her arsenal. "Fine." She nodded, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she racked her brains for a solution.

"Well I haven't dared to venture far from the woods while I've been here, just a few houses on the outskirts to get supplies." *yn* explained. "But if everything is the same in this version of Hawkins, theoretically we can go to the police station or something and grab more weapons to take on those bats guarding the way out of here."

"Oooh, grenades!" Robin exclaimed.

"I highly doubt the Hawkins PD has grenades Robin but guns, sure." Steve nodded.

"Well we don't have to go all the way down town for guns. I have guns, in my bedroom." Nancy revealed.

"You." Eddie began as he jumped off the boulder. "Nancy Wheeler, have guns. Plural. In your bedroom?"

"Full of surprises isn't she?" Robin beamed.

"I don't know what's more surprising, that revelation or that the valedictorian can take down monsters with a bow and arrow." Eddie responded, an amused smirk on his lips as he glanced at *yn*.

*yn* quirked a brow up at his words, opening her mouth to retort back when the ground suddenly shook from underneath them, loud bangs echoed all around them.

*yn* stumbled, her back smashing into Eddie's front as they toppled over. Eddie was quick to react, ensnaring her in his arms to shield her from the fall as they fell backwards. He gripped onto her tightly, his ringed fingers digging into her side as he covered her body with his as rocks fell around them.

Almost as quickly as the earthquake began, it ended. As the ground stilled and *yn* and Eddie sat up, the loud bellow of an unseen monster rung out from afar. It was enough to make the hairs on their body stand on end.

Chills ran through *yn*'s body at the sound. She knew they were all thinking the same thing. No one wanted to stick around long enough to find out what made that sound.

"Uh, so guns sound like a good idea to me." Eddie swallowed.

"Yeah, me too." Robin breathed out.

It was then that *yn* realised that one of Eddie's arms was still looped protectively around her waist. His fingers pressed firmly into her skin as he held her against him. She swallowed thickly as she studied him, this was the first time she had been this close to him, to really take time to appreciate his features. Then his big brown eyes were on her too and *yn* felt her composure wobble ever so slightly.

In that moment *yn* wondered why the hell she had never taken the time to notice him before.

"So what are we waiting for?" Steve spoke up, his eyes darting between Eddie and *yn*.

Steve's voice caused *yn* to tear her gaze from Eddie and scramble to her feet. "Lead the way."

-------------------------

"So I'm going to take a wild guess that you didn't actually kill Chrissie Cunningham?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" *yn* continued, mild panic sweeping over her when she saw the look that crossed Eddie's face at the mention of the cheerleader.

"No no it's ok." Eddie waved his hand dismissively as he recouped his emotions. "I was there when it happened, the cops are right about that, but I didn't kill her."

"I'm sorry." *yn* repeated, "that must have been awful."

"Yeah it wasn't the greatest experience of all time. Might have to join you in that lifelong intensive therapy you were talking about." Eddie's words made a wry smile appear on her features as she gripped the strap of her backpack.

"I'm sorry about Fred too, I know he worked on the paper with you." Eddie continued.

"It's ok, we weren't that close." *yn* let out a small sigh at the thought of the shy boy.

The pair fell into silence as they continued to treck through the woods. Eddie swallowed as his eyes darted to *yn*'s face, studying her for a few moments before looking back ahead of him.

"You still play in Corroded Coffin?"

Her question made Eddie come to a sudden stop, his eyes lighting up at the mention of his bands name.

"Hell yeah I do." A disbelieving smile spread across his lips as he stared down at her. "I'm surprised you've heard of us."

"Of course I have." *yn* laughed. "I wrote a review of you guys for the paper... sophomore year I think."

Eddie racked his brain for a few moments, searching through his memories for one involving an article about his band.

"Oh shit yeah!" He exclaimed, his grin widening as it hit him. "About our set at the Spring Carnival. You gave us a rave review."

His words made *yn* tilt her head back and let out a laugh, one that made his heart flutter slightly. "I don't know if I'd call it a rave review" She answered as the pair began to walk again, "I think I said that while you were no Metallica, you were pretty damn good for a Hawkins bread band."

"You know Metallica?" Eddie queried, the backhanded compliment going completely in one ear and out the other as he stared at her.

A confused expression crossed her features as she looked at him, "doesn't everyone?"

Eddie had to withhold a squeak of excitement, calming himself down by inhaling deeply as he walked instep beside her.

"No they definitely do not." Was all he mumbled in reply, his head swimming with thoughts as they followed after the others.

"Listen, I still haven't had the chance to say thank you for saving our asses before." He spoke up after a few minutes of silence had passed.

"I mean that was a real Ozzie move you pulled back there."

It was only when he said it that he realised *yn* probably didn't have a clue what or who he was talking about. He opened his mouth to explain when her soft chuckle cut him off.

"I don't know if I'd go as far as biting a bats head off, but thank you."

She got the reference. This had to be some sort of mistake. A cruel, sick joke that the universe was playing on him.

"Well it was very metal of you, that's all I'm saying. Totally badass." His compliment made a small blush appear on her cheeks.

"Maybe my new nickname can be the Princess of Darkness." She grinned, her words almost making Eddie stop in his tracks again.

Another Ozzy reference. Had he died and gone to heaven?

"You like Black Sabbath?" This was a test. He couldn't get ahead of himself just yet, he had to be sure.

"They're no Led Zepplin or Deep Purple but yeah, they're cool." *yn* nodded.

Eddie thought he might pass out.

*yn* *yln*, the smartest girl in school and was probably, no, definitely was the prettiest girl in school, liked metal music. Liked his band. Was a bow and arrow using, baseball bat wielding, monster slaying badass.

Eddie had never believed in any of that soulmate crap before, but holy shit, maybe he needed to rethink that. Actually, maybe he needed to rethink everything he'd ever squirrelled away in his own personal Munson doctrine. Because right now, he was pretty convinced that he was staring down at someone who had been crafted right out of his own personal fantasies.

She smirked and raised a brow when she noted the stunned look on his features, "people like me can like metal too, y'know."

Her voice made Eddie break out of his thoughts, panic overwhelming him as he scrambled for something to say.

"It's not just reserved for self proclaimed freaks." She continued, enjoying seeing him squirm under her gaze.

"Uh shit yeah no of course I just-" Eddie began to ramble, running a hand through his unruly hair as he tried to think of a way to pull himself out of the grave he'd just dug.

"Hey *yn*! I'm bored, come here so I can catch you up on everything Vecna and Upside Down to pass the time." Robin called out from ahead of them.

Eddie had never been so grateful for Robin Buckley and her inability to stop talking.

"Saved by the bell." *yn* teased him.

"Yeah coming!" *yn* called back to Robin before glancing up at Eddie once more.

"Here." She extended the baseball bat out for him to grab. He studied her momentarily before cautiously taking the bat from her, a quizzical expression on his features.

"To replace your oar." She explained as she let go of the handle.

"Try not to break this one." She smirked, before jogging to catch up with Robin.

"I won't oh great princess of darkness!" He called out to her. The use of the nickname caused her to let out a laugh and turn around just in time to watch him bow dramatically, his mop of curls sweeping against the floor.

"I'll protect it with my life." He shot her a huge grin as he rose up with a sweep of his hands.

"I'll hold you to that Munson." She grinned, sending him a wink before turning around once more.

Eddie let the bat drop to his side, bringing up a clenched fist to his mouth to stifle the low and pining whine he let out as he watched her go.

"Jesus H Christ." He breathed out as he brought his other hand up to clutch over his heart dramatically.

"Marry me, *yn* *yln*."

chapter two

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I've really been on fire lately I have to say because I fucking love this fic so much. Potentially one of my favourites of all time, big call I know but!!! I just love writing for Eddie he's such a great character!!! Also feel like there could be a part 2 potentially or a stand alone fic so love that. As always, feedback would be super super appreciated and you can give it back HERE!

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