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chrissv4mp · 2 months

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im on the bleachers🦈

basketball player!matt × gn!reader

warnings: minor injuries, vulgar language

author's note: okayyy, i know i said this was fluff & the warnings seem otherwise, but i swear there's fluff!!

_____________

matt breathed in deeply, looking at himself in the mirror before muttering, "final game of the season, you got this."

"stay calm." he added on, knowing that every time he was on the court he would get a little crazy.

but it's not like it was his fault, the referees were just blind as hell and didn't even know the difference between pivoting with the ball and traveling.

or maybe it was him. whatever, even if it was he wouldn't dare to admit it.

"hurry up, boys! gotta get you kids out there for some warm-ups," coach yelled, his voice echoing off the walls of the locker room.

matt sighed, closing his eyes and taking one more deep breath before throwing his jersey on.

04, under the number was the name of his school, WESTFIELD HS.

"matt!" chris's voice broke the brunette boy out of his trance, looking over his shoulder before turning around fully to look at his brother.

matt couldn't help crack a smile at the excited expression on his brothers face, his eyes bright and his smile big.

"what's up?" matt said, running a hand through his hair.

chris straightened our his jersey, number 03, before looking back up at matt and speaking, "oh. nothing, just wanted to check up on you, you nervous?"

matt nodded, "yeah, but i'm still hopeful. the other team isn't all that, either, but we still need to be strong. and aggressive."

chris nodded, his facial expression serious now, "yeah. hey, let's go to the team, give them a pep talk?"

_____________

"bring it in wildcats!" matt called, and the team was quick to get together, chris going over to matt's side immediately.

the players looked around at one another, giving knowing looks and muttering quiet encouragements.

"hey, today isn't any different than our other games. we always come to win, and what do we always do?" matt asked, and the team responded proudly:

"win!"

matt smiled, "yes, exactly! we need to play with energy and sportsmanship, no matter how pissed the other team gets you. and above all, we need to play aggressive and fast." chris nodded at his brother, his eyes scanning his other teammates.

"so, we're gonna play all the basics. 2-3, box, etcetera. now, everybody knows that the other team isn't that good, they've lost a majority of their games this season and the main reason for it was them not being on defense."

matt inhaled deeply, "some of us have a bit of a problem with that, too, so, we need to always, and i mean always be on our man. everybody just goes to the ball and leaves the other team open."

a boy on the team nodded, knowing that the comment was mainly directed to him.

"even if we don't win, we're still the wildcats, and we'll always have our confidence. no matter what." matt encouraged, giving soft smiles to his team.

"preach, matt." chris laughed, earning some smiles from his teammates.

matt rolled his eyes before putting his fist out, leading the whole team to do the same thing, "wildcats on three!"

"1, 2, 3, wildcats!" the team roared, voices echoing off the gym walls as they parted ways, some players going on the bench and some going onto the court.

coach smiled at matt, giving him a thumbs up before matt went to jog on the court.

matt's attention was quickly turned to the crowd on the other side of the court, his eyes immediately landing on you.

you waved, giving him a thumbs up with your free hand as he waved back.

chris was in the middle, his eyes never leaving the ball as the referee raised it in the air.

matt went into his defense position, getting low and in front of a player from the opposing team.

the tension was high as the gym fell silent, only the sound of quiet buzzing from the scoreboard heard.

then, the referee put the whistle to his lips, and blew. he dropped the ball, and chris swiftly smacked it behind the opponent and into his teammates hands.

"let's go wildcats!" was heard from the sidelines, and as matts teammate dribbled the ball up court and shot a lay-up, the crowd erupted in roars and screams.

well, this was gonna be an easy win.

_____________

this wasn't gonna be a very easy win.

matt groaned in frustration as the ref called a foul on him. he hadn't even touched his opponent!

the wildcats and sharks were neck and neck, 30-30, the scoreboard read.

the opponents coach had waited until they were losing by a lot to put in his best players, and now the wildcats were on the brink of losing a game.

"shit," matt muttered as number 08 on the other team ran up the court.

he pushed himself to run with all his strength, and as nunber 08 went to score, matt jumped up to try and block the shot.

number 23 on the opposite team pushed matt with all his strength, sending him flying onto the floor face first.

he landed on face, his knees sliding on the freshly waxed gym floors.

a loud roar of anger was heard from the wildcats, and the whistle blew many times before the gym was shut up.

"fuck, fuck, fuck!" matt groaned in pain, holding his nose as he breathed heavily.

nick, taking the pictures of the basketball team for school, quickly raced down the bleachers and to his brothers aid.

chris did, too, worry evident on his face as he patted matts back, "you're okay, matt, c'mon, get up."

nick helped matt to sit on his butt, carefully grabbing his chin and noticing his bloody nose.

"it's fine, you'll be okay. we're gonna get up on three, alright?"

matt nodded, groaning as he stood up on the count of three.

his knees ached and so did his nose. shit, there was no way he was going to be able to have more playing time.

sure, his teammates were good, but matt was the best player on the team.

nick and chris walked matt to the sidelines, letting him sit down on the bench before nick handed him his water bottle.

"you okay?" chris asked, tilting his head a bit.

matt nodded, his head fuzzy with frustration.

the game went on, and number 23 got benched & fouled. 1 more foul for the sharks and the wildcats would get two free throws.

1 more basket and the wildcats would win.

the game was getting heated, and people the opposing team were screaming at their teammates.

it had only taken a few missed shots from the wildcats to get matt stirred up, and he shot up from his seat, walking to coach with a passion.

"put me in." he demanded, and in any other circumstance, he would've crumbled in fear at the way his coach looked at him.

he cocked an eyebrow, "you're hurt, matt, we can't risk it."

matt grumbled, looking down at his feet as he balled his hands into fists. why not put him in? he was the best player, and the others were clearly not locked in. he needed to be in there.

"put matt in!" you and nick chanted from the bleachers, making the coach and matt himself turn their attention.

the chant caught on quickly with the rest of the wildcats, even the players that were on the court, currently on timeout.

matt smiled sweetly at you, and you just cheered for him, your heart melting at the way he looked at you.

the brunette boy turned back to his coach, not daring to break eye contact again. he took deep breaths, trying to control himself as he asked once more:

"can you put me in, coach? please." he asked, and this time, coach didn't hesitate to nod.

the people controlling the scoreboard wasted no time in subbing out a worse player for matt, and the brunette boy ran onto the court, determined to win.

the game started back up again quickly, and matt was quick to steal the ball when 06 on sharks were passing the ball in.

he ran down the court, his legs burning and his throat dry. the crowd cheered loudly, and so did his teammates.

even over all the other voices, the only one he listened to was yours, you were the only one he cared about.

he jumped up, the ball rolling off his hand and going up into the air.

matt drowned everybody out, his breathing heavy and his legs tired. the ball spun around the rim not once, not twice, but three times before it fell into the basket and dropped to the floor.

matts eyes widened, and he could finally hear everything. cheers erupted from the wildcats and the coach for the sharks threw his clipboard down.

"holy shit. oh my god!" matt yelled, the realization that he had won the game finally hitting him.

you didn't hesitate to scramble off the bleachers and onto the court, wanting to be the first one to speak to him.

you jumped into his arms, almost sending him falling to the floor, but he steadied himself and wrapped his arms around you tightly.

"you won, baby! im so proud of you." you muttered into his shoulder, and he smiled.

"thank you." he whispered.

_____________

matt and you sat at a booth in a local diner, drinking celebratory milkshakes.

you couldn't help but smile as he drank it, putting the cup to his lips before putting it back down, leaving whipped cream on his upper lip.

"what?" he questioned before licking his lips, and you couldn't help but laugh softly.

"nothing. just wanted to look at you. you literally just won the state championships, can i not be proud of you?"

matt smiled softly, hiding his face as he blushed.

"couldn't have done it without my favorite person." he praised, reaching his hand out to yours that was on the table.

...

☆

author's note: AHHH the support on my hcs are insane, I love u guys sm!! hope u guys enjoyed this and also, thank u smsmsmsm for 40+ followers🫶🏼🫶🏼

@chrissturnswife @latinasforchrizz @suyqa @mayhem-72 @sturn-wrld @mattsbbg

#matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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spideyhexx · 4 months

Note

Adding onto readers!dad being Billy boss

Billy wanting to tell her dad about them she doesn’t incase he stops them seeing each other so Billy thinks she’s embarrassed of him

I love the whole, reader's dad being Billy's boss

tw; mentions of death; fem!reader

"Honey, I can tell him all that 'm workin' on to go straight, hell I have been," Billy pleads, reaching out to grab your hand to stop you from pacing.

"You don't know him as well as I do and I know he'll throw a fit, it would-"

"Are you embarrassed of me?" A breath escapes your lips, shaking your head at him immediately.

"What? No, no that's not what I meant, Billy," you tell him, your voice dropping to a quieter volume and he scoffs, letting go of your hand. It's like that action directly causes a surge of coldness to run through your body.

"Sure you didn't. I shoulda known, gettin' involved with a rich spoiled girl like you. You would see me as less than and not enough," he spits out, his jaw clenching and he rubs his hand through his hair. His words hit you hard and you feel like cowering away. Your feet shift, taking a step back closer to the door of his little cabin.

Billy's eyes soften when he looks at you, your hands clasped, fiddling with your fingers and your shoulders tense. He shakes his head, like he's denying the words he's said but it's too late, "'M sorry, I didn't-"

"Oh, you didn't mean it?" Your words snap in his ears. Billy looks to the floor like a petulant child about to be told off. In reality, you knew you were a rich and spoiled girl, but that didn't change how much it hurt coming from him. You take a deep breath to compose your anger, something your mother always taught you.

"My father has the power to keep us apart, Billy. That's why I don't wanna tell him. You're more than enough for me, I wouldn't be breakin' my father's rules left and right for you if I didn't think highly of you. He could kill you, William Bonney."

Each of your words pierce into him and while he understands what you're getting at, Billy just wants to love you the way you both want. He wants to feel your love the way you want. But the two of you can't and he'd have to live with that.

"'M sorry," Billy says, still looking at the ground. The sound of your footsteps retreating closer to the front door is enough for him to snap his head up and walk after you.

Billy grabs your wrist. "Let me go," you whisper, your eyes already welling with tears.

"I knew what I was gettin' into with you, but I don't care. Dammnit, I don't, okay?" His eyes are wide, crazed as his body crowds your space. He's so large, moving closer to you like he needs his body that close. You're practically up against the door with your wrist still in his grasp.

"If we can't tell your father, I'll do whatever I can to have you. Please, honey," his voice moves into a whisper and he closes his eyes tight, nudging his nose to yours.

Your own breath becomes shaky, a tear falling down your cheek as his lips brush yours. "Don't want you to get killed cause of me," you mumble and his eyes open, the crease in his brow makes you want to kiss the spot between his brows, but you refrain.

"But I'd die for you, honey," he rasps. You want to slap him. Slap his pretty, angelic face.

"Billy, please-"

"I'll do anythin' for us, you hear me? Anythin'. If you'll have me." His eyes bore into yours, awaiting a response. He loosens his hold on your wrist to move his fingers against yours, intertwining your fingers.

Your love for William Bonney knew no limits and you knew you couldn't simply give it up, give in to your father's wishes. You knew long before you met Billy that it wasn't fair to yourself. And the love you feel as Billy holds your hand, kissing the tip of your nose then your forehead as more tears start to fall from your cheeks, is a love you want to feel forever, even in death.

"I'll have you, William Bonney," you whisper to him and he cracks a small smile.

"And I have you." You return his smile and sniffle, squeezing his hand and letting it go, giving him a pointed look.

"I haven't forgotten what you said though," you remind him and he nods, his smile dropping, but he doesn't break his eye contact with you.

"'M sorry," he directs his apology again, taking a step back from you as you open the door.

"Make it up to me tomorrow."

Quickly you step back to him and grab his cheeks, smashing your lips to his in a few-second bruising kiss that leaves Billy stunned with no idea where to put his hands. They raise but find no purchase against you and just when his mind snaps back into reality and his lips are tingling from how hard you kissed him, you're pulling away.

You're too quick, kissing him with all of your might. Then, Leaving him alone in his cabin.

let's chat about billy, here :)

#billyasks #billy the kid #william h bonney #billy the kid x you #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #william h bonney smut #billy the kid imagine #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney x you #william bonney x reader #william bonney x you #william bonney smut #billy bonney #billy bonney x reader #william bonney

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empresskylo · 2 years

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𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you have always thought chief jim hopper was hot. and you knew he thought the same about you, he just tried to hide it because he thought it was wrong since he knew your dad and you were still in high school. however, after hopper crashes a house party, you ask him for a ride home. hopper briefly loses his self-control. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | jim hopper x fem!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut— unprotected sex, car sex, large age gap, reader still in high school but is eighteen, sorta rough sex? size kink, power dynamic. *if any of this bothers you, don’t read. 𝐰𝐜 | 2.9 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | i now have dark!hopper fic ideas so if anyone has any requests lmk

*•.¸♡masterlist *•.¸♡ao3 *•.¸♡twt

「 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 」 [bonus gif added at the end] r.h. masterlist

Listen, it wasn’t your fault that you wrote for the school paper and that often led to you questioning the police about local crime scenes. And it wasn’t your fault that you encountered the chief of police, Jim Hopper, on almost every occasion. And it definitely wasn’t your fault that he was so good looking. What, were you supposed to pretend you didn’t find his authority and dad bod hot? But it might have been a little bit your fault that Hopper got stumped on the questions you’d ask him because you made sure to wear your shortest skirt those days.

Hopper was not a boy in your school who would fumble with his words and act stupid around someone he was attracted to. But still, you could tell that Hopper was into you, even if he hid it well. It’s like he expected your bombarding presence when anything remotely interesting happened in Hawkins. You’d show up, notebook in hand, and press him for details. You knew he was hard to crack. He was professional and no one could get information out of him… Well, except for you. You always managed to get him to spill some sort of top-secret information about the case–just enough for you to work with. And if that wasn’t obvious enough that he liked you, you also had caught him glancing over at you before, his eyes lingering on your exposed legs before quickly averting his gaze.

It was the weekend and you were busy celebrating this being your final year of high school by attending a party. You danced through the crowd of bodies, catching a glimpse of Steve Harrington working his charm on one of the popular girls in your grade. You rolled your eyes, he’d grow out of it eventually.

You didn’t think the party was too loud until a police siren sounded from outside the house. In a panic, students began running every which way, darting out of whoever’s house this was–you weren’t quite sure–and off into the streets and woods. You peered out the window and saw Hopper walking up to the door, yelling at a couple of kids as he did. You were glad you wore your favorite skit and a low-cut shirt tonight.

Before Hopper could bang on the door, you swung it open.

“Hi, officer,” you teased. His face was tense and his narrowed eyebrows made him appear threatening–nothing new here.

“What the hell are you dumb fucking kids thinking?” He yelled, spotting the drunk teenagers behind you as they darted out the back door to escape Hopper’s rage.

“It’s just a small get together.”

Hopper rolled his eyes and sighed. He looked around, most of the others had fled the scene, their laughing voices and hollering echoing down the neighborhood street.

This wasn’t even your house, you knew you couldn’t get in trouble for this. But you couldn’t help but swoon at the idea of Hopper putting you in handcuffs…

“Shows over. Go home.” He ordered at you and the small group who were watching from behind you in the living room. It must have been the kid who lived here and his close friends, who else would have the guts to stick around… Well, besides you, of course.

Hopper turned around and marched down the steps towards his truck. He didn’t get paid enough to deal with annoying seniors throwing a house party. His presence was enough to break the whole thing up, so he was calling that a job well done.

“Wait,” you called out to him, chasing him down the lawn. Hopper stopped in front of his vehicle and turned towards you, an annoyed scowl plastered across his unshaven face. “What?” His voice was dark and husky from lack of sleep.

“I…Don’t have a way home.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes. You weren’t lying–now that everyone else had ditched, you really didn’t have a ride home, and it was late and dark out.

“Seriously?” He asked.

You could see the harsh lines from frowning all the time engraved on his forehead. Still, there was a softness to him. You knew he wouldn’t say no.

In a huff, he turned to get in his car, “Get in.”

You smiled, happy at your success, and jumped into the passenger side of his truck.

Hopper already knew where you lived, he was well acquainted with your dad, and in such a small town, everyone knew where everyone lived.

After Hopper had taken off down the road, you leaned over and turned on the radio. That earned an annoyed glance and a grunt from him. He reached out and turned the volume down, the low hum of The Rolling Stones playing out of his shitty speakers.

You looked out the window and rubbed your arms. Hopper didn’t pay much attention to what you were doing so you had to vocalize your intentions. “It’s cold in here.” Your arms laid bare to the chill Autumn weather. When Hopper didn’t respond, you began digging in the back compartment of his truck.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” He shot daggers at you before looking back at the road.

“Don’t you have an extra jacket or something in here?”

You turned back to him and he sat in silence, contemplating if he should do what his mind just told him to do. Jim was trying his hardest not to engage with you, he knew it would lead to no good. Against his better judgment, he slipped his coat off and shoved it at you.

You were genuinely surprised that he actually gave you his coat. You held it a bit dumbfounded before sliding it on. It was warm from his body heat and smelt of him. You felt a rush of blood rise to your cheeks as you drowned in Hopper’s coat that was evidently too big for you.

It was only a few more minutes before Hopper pulled up to your house, pulling over on the side of the street, bushes and trees in your front yard blocking any view from inside your house to Hopper’s truck.

You smiled and looked over at him, “Thanks.”

He had no excuse not to look at you now that he wasn’t driving. When he looked over, his jacket was engulfing you like a blanket, your exposed legs hanging out of it like it were a dress. His jaw tensed and he controlled himself from gulping. “Sure thing, kid.”

Maybe you’d be able to get out without him realizing you didn’t give him his coat back. You could sleep in it all night. And it would be a perfect excuse to go visit him at the station in the morning.

You went to open your door but it didn’t budge. You began shoving it with both your hands, but the stupid thing was jammed.

“Shit. Ron told me he fixed that damn thing for good,” he said annoyed. Just another thing added to the long list of shit he had to do.

You turned back to him in your seat, your face turning red when you got the idea of climbing over him to get out his door instead.

Before Hopper noticed what you were doing, your hand was on his arm and you were crawling over to him from your seat.

“What are you–” He asked in pure shock.

“Didn’t wanna inconvenience you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his as your hand rested against him. He didn’t shove you off or jump out of the truck to get away from you. Your eyes lingered up to his and you could see the darkness spread across him. His look intimidated you, sending a rush of heat right to your core.

You gained enough courage to continue on and climbed up onto his lap, awkwardly holding his chest for balance as you slid on top of him. There wasn’t much room so your body was forced close to his. He still didn’t say anything. It was making you nervous.

You grabbed his door handle and you were about to push it open and step off of him and onto the road when you felt his large hands grip your waist. You looked over at him and saw the way his pupils were blown and his breathing was deeper than before.

He yanked you down fully onto his lap prying a gasp from your lips. You sat, half-straddling him, and speechless.

Hopper came back to his senses all at once and released you, his hands falling to the side of his thighs before looking back at you in what appeared to be shock and horror.

You were so fucking right, Hopper was into you.

Your hands gripped his button-up uniform top as you looked at him with hooded eyes, unwilling to leave your spot on top of him.

Hopper’s chest was falling up and down in heavy breaths, his eyes searching yours as you held onto him like you were afraid he was going to shove you off.

He began to realize that you were okay with what he just did and you were now begging him to continue through your pouting lips and fluttering eyelashes.

One of his hands braved exploration and slid up your warm thigh leaving goosebumps in its wake. You took a sharp breath in at his touch. “Hopper…” Your voice was barely audible as your head spun from his intoxicating stare. You felt him begin to harden underneath you, his eyes searching yours for a response. With that, you crashed your lips against his, his mustache tickling your nose, wasting no time kissing you back. His other hand was under his jacket you wore and clutched onto your hip, pulling you towards him.

The amount of awful thoughts he’d had about you made him worry he wouldn’t be able to control himself when you stepped into his truck. It was why he tried so hard to avoid you whenever you were around. The temptation dripped off of him as he held you, knowing he was past the point of return. He couldn’t stop now.

He effortlessly pulled your weight down onto his lap, pressing you up against his growing bulge. You whined, the feeling of him against your core was making you wet beyond belief. His hands were large against you, he was able to hold most of your thigh in one hand as he squeezed it. You knocked his hat off as your hands came up to wrap around his neck while you kissed him, pushing your chest against his.

One of his hands slid between your bodies and under your skirt, his finger brushing against your soaking panties, making you jump. You momentarily pulled away from the kiss to let out a yelp as he began dragging his fingers back and forth.

His lip kicked up in a slight smirk as he watched you squirm on top of him, your weight rolling into his hand needily. He pushed your underwear aside and let one finger slide around your hole, then he gently pushed in.

You bit your lip, his eyes never leaving yours. His finger filled you and when he began to slide a second one in, he was met with some resistance. His fingers were large and easy enough to fill you, how on earth was he going to fit his–

Hopper was pondering the same question, his throbbing cock begging to escape his pants at the thought of how tight you were.

His fingers slid out of you, desperate to find release inside you. You hiked your skirt up so he could see the way your thigh billowed at the sides as his hand squeezed it. His hands left you to unbuckle his pants, awkwardly pushing up against you as he slid them down just enough for his length to spring out. You licked your lips and reached down, gripping his cock in your hand. You almost couldn't wrap your entire fingers around him; you always knew he was big.

You wanted him so fucking pathetically right now. Your hands held his shoulders as his own shoved your skirt up then grabbed his cock in one hand and shifted your panties to the side with his other. He lined himself up with you as you dripped in wetness, eagerly waiting.

He looked up at you, his eyes hungry with lust, his intense expression sending shivers up your spine. You slowly sank down on him, taking in his tip. You squeaked, already feeling like he wasn’t going to fit. His eyes shut, preventing himself from grabbing your hips and forcing you down to take him in all at once.

You slowly sank down further until you bottomed out, both of your breathing loud.

“Fuck,” he cursed. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he throbbed inside you, pressing against your cervix. Your skirt was hiked up above your belly button and his hands crawled up to your exposed waist. He lifted you up off him with such ease, wanting you to take him in again. With a loud moan from both of you, he guided you back down, small shocks of pain radiating through you at the quickness of his actions. You began to move on your own, slowly riding him up and down, your head bending towards his to avoid hitting the roof of his truck.

The pain of him stretching you out soon subsided and was replaced with pangs of pleasure. You picked up speed, your bodies sloppily colliding. “Jesus,” he growled. “You’re, ugh–so–fucking–tight,” he managed to get out between grunts. His hands gripped your ass, pulling you towards him as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, shifting the angle so his cock hit right at your g-spot each time he filled you up.

You began to let out soft whimpers, Hopper’s guttural growls masking the sounds you were making. You leaned forward, clinging on to him, your face buried in his neck and shirt as you continued to ride him. Your soft cries filled Hopper’s ear making him twitch inside you.

His arms wrapped around you and held you close. Your legs were starting to give out, your pace slowing. Filled with impatience at how slow you were going now, Hopper’s hand found his seat lever and pulled it, sending you both backward as it extended to an almost horizontal position. You were momentarily confused as to what he was doing until he rolled you over in one swift motion so you laid underneath him. Your legs widened so he could fit comfortably between them and he began thrusting into you. You squealed as he pounded into you with such force, you were certain his truck was rattling to the waves of Hopper’s thrusts. Your arms extended over your head and clutched the wall of his truck to help hold you in place as he forcefully slid into you time and time again. He was cursing against your lips before his forehead connected with yours. His breath was hot against you as he panted.

You felt yourself getting dangerously close. In a small voice you spoke, “Hopper, I’m…Gonna–”

He continued to fuck into you, your legs as far apart as they could be, wanting him to hit you as deeply as he could. “Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck,” he swore, his cock twitching inside you as he thrusted. In a loud groan, you felt him begin to spill into you, sending you over the edge as well. You mewled under him, your legs shaking as he kept his speed, his cock sending spurts of hot liquid into you. His hands roamed your body, not able to touch enough of you as he came. One of his hands came up and rested on the side of your cheek and partially in your hair, pulling in into his fist. Your name pooled off his tongue as he gave one last deep release inside you, his thrusts beginning to slow now. You panted under his weight as he came to a stop. He collapsed on top of you, both of your faces covered in sweat. Liquid dripped out of you as he gently pulled out. He was out of breath as he grabbed you into his arms and rolled you both over so you were laying on him instead.

After laying there in heavy breathing filled silence, he began to sit up, taking you with him as he did. You sat on his thighs as he shimmied his pants back around his waist and let his seat swing back to its usual position.

A small wave of fear-filled Hopper’s newly cleared mind. “You’re eighteen…Right?”

You giggled, “If I say yes, does that mean we can do this again?”

His eyes widened before you began climbing off of him. “I’m kidding,” you said, dragging your words out. “I’m eighteen, you idiot.”

Hopper let his thoughts untangle themself before he turned to you. “We probably shouldn’t do this again. I shouldn’t have even let this happen tonight.” How was he going to face your father the next time he saw him without remembering the way you looked when you rode him tonight?

You jumped out of his truck, leaning against his lap as you stood on the pavement. “Okay. We won’t do this again then,” you said with a shit-eating grin. You knew Hopper wouldn’t be able to resist you now, so it didn’t matter what he said. He watched you walk towards your house, your skirt flowing back and forth as you walked. He gripped the steering wheel tightly in his fists as he already felt himself begin to get hard again watching the way his jacket looked on you as it engulfed your small frame.

bonus gif [yes it’s actually d.h.]

part 2

#jim hopper #jim hopper smut #hopper #hopper smut #jim hopper oneshot #jim hopper fanfic #stranger things #stranger things smut #smut #hopper st4 #chief jim hopper #chief hopper #jim hopper x reader #insert fic #hopper x reader #stranger things hopper

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serasfanfiction · 2 months

Text

Inspired by this Twitter thread.

Part 1 | Part 2

Lucifer had managed to keep his side of the deal, mostly by straight-up avoiding the hell out of Alastor. This sometimes resulted in him walking right back out of rooms he'd just walked into, exiting stage left upon Alastor arriving, and one memorable portalling out of a room when he turned around to discover the red head between him and the only exit to the room.

He was suspicious Alastor had done that last one on purpose, but Lucifer had no solid proof he could actually show, so he'd swallowed his measly dignity and all but literally fled. It had galled him to do it, but he'd done far more embarrassing things for his beloved Char-Char and this honestly didn't even rank.

This little game might have gone on indefinitely, if Charley had not called a Hotel-wide meeting. It sounded like she had come up with a new team building exercise and wished to try it out on the residents.

Lucifer had overheard talk about the exercises from Angel (something about being thrown off a building and trust falls?) while sitting at the bar shortly after moving into the hotel, but had never personally seen any himself. Curious, he'd come down to watch, even if he hadn't intended to participate.

He really should have known better. The moment Charlie spotted him, her eyes lit up with that smile he was so terribly a push over for. "Dad! Come join us!" She near skipped over, snagging his hand. "Pleeeeease? I've already made it up with you included! It'll be so much fun!"

"Uh..." Lucifer glanced behind her, eyes falling on Angel, who had snorted. Husk(er? Was it Husker? or Husk? He really needed to get their names down better) and Maggie (Vaggie?) appeared to be long suffering, but present. Nifty was her usual self.

And then there was Alastor. Alastor, who was watching him like a particularly interesting specimen he was just waiting to see what it would do. Like he was just waiting for their king to make a fool of himself or run away.

Well, fuck that! Yes, he could be socially awkward sometimes and he found large crowds of people overwhelming, but! He could do interactions! And it was supporting his daughter - that was always good, right?

Right.

He turned his own smile on Charlie. It was a little too big, but he really meant it. "Of course, sweetie. What are we doing?"

Charlie near squealed, permission given to tug her father over to the rest of the group. She plopped him down beside her girlfriend - noticeably leaving breathing distance between him and Alastor - before taking her place on the other side of Vaggie.

"So, for this exercise, we are going to need to draw names!" She pulled out some folded up pieces of paper, holding them up for everyone to see. She opened her mouth to continue, only to pause as if realizing something. She bit her lip as she looked to the papers to the group of them. Then her eyes fell on her father and Lucifer could all but see a light bulb go off over her head. "Dad! Could we borrow your hat! We can draw the names out of that!"

Lucifer huffed softly, bemused, but handed over the hat easily. A few eyebrows went up from the other members of the group, as if they were surprised he would so easily give up what was for all intents and purposes the Crown of Hell to be used for his daughter's whimsy.

Heh! Jokes on them, because this still didn't even count as the least dignified thing he'd ever done to entertain his kid (because she may be an adult now, but she was a baby once and he may have been absent throughout most of her life, but not even he had been absent during her baby/toddler years. Lilith would have killed him).

Charlie took it, throwing the names into the hat. Carrying on as if there hadn't been a disruption, she explained, "When the hat comes to you, you pull a name out." To demonstrate, she reached in and shuffled the papers. Pulling one out, she proceeded to hand the hat to her girlfriend, who also did the same. As they passed it on, she added, "Once everyone has a name, look who you have! That's who you're going to be saying something nice to!"

Angel, never one to miss an opportunity, leaned against the bar in such a way that every curve was accented. "Oh, I don't need a trust building exercise to find something nice to say about some of you's." His smile was just as suggestive, and while the line seemed to be thrown out to the group in general, no one missed the way he glanced at Husk.

Husk himself gave a slight roll of his eyes in response, but it didn't appear any more gruff then Angel's comment was overtly pushy. If Lucifer wasn't mistaken, he would have said both of their expressions looked fond.

Lucifer tracked the progress of the hat as it made its way around the room, coming to Niffty. Her grin widened and her little hands twitched. "Ooooo. This could use a little polishing." Her single eye peered up at Lucifer from across the room, as she near vibrated with glee. "You don't mind if I polish this do you?"

"Um--" Lucifer's own hands twitch with the sudden need to retrieve his hat and wait. Was she removing one of the strands of his hair caught in the hat and pocketing it??

"Nonesense, Niffty." Alastor's near drawl put an end to her manic episode with ease, his hand coming down to pat her head as if she were a mere child. She certainly smiled up at him as innocently as one as she snagged her paper and held the hat up for him. "I'm sure he keeps all of his possessions nice and clean."

Damn right, he did. So what if he cheated a bit and used magic to do so. The end result was all that mattered.

Alastor gave her one last pat on the head, before locking eyes with his king. Never breaking eye co tact, Alastor placed a single hand under the top of the hat, his smile smug and something close to victorious as he took possession of it, however briefly.

(The image rose in Lucifer's mind, sudden and unbidden, the whisper of a warning, of this sinner wearing the hat - the crown - as if he were born to it. His shadows dark around him, eyes and teeth alight with sinister power.)

Lucifer shuddered. He blinked hard to dispell the vision.

Alastor's smile was all teeth as he plucked out a name. Not even remotely pretending to be pious, he held the hat out to Lucifer. "Your hat, your Majesty."

Lucifier was almost loathe to take anything from the Alastor, his own hat or not. Narrowing his eyes, it was only his promise to Charlie that held his tongue for him (and judging from the little shit's expression, he knew it). Lucifier near puffed himself up, his own smile gracious and over-the-top as he snatched the hat, aggressively pulling the final slip of paper from the hat. He held the smile as he placed his crown back where it belonged, the motion finally chasing away the last of the unease from the vision.

Everyone had either already opened their paper or were in the process of doing so. Lucifier felt it was like being the first to blink - breaking eye contact - but his self confidence wasn't quite so low he couldn't let Alastor have this one. He looked down at his paper, opened it up, and then felt his stomach drop.

Sitting their in his daughter's handwriting, innocent and damning all the same, was the name:

Alastor.

Somewhere, his father was laughing at him, pettily and pitilessly. He could almost hear it all the way down there in Hell.

Lucifer balled the paper up into a fist, eye twitching. He could feel Alastor watching him intently, but he refused to give anything else away. Ignoring the sinner felt like pulling a tooth, but he did it anyway, focusing on Charlie.

"Great! Now that everyone has their name, we can start. I'll go first and the person I have will go next and so forth!" She held up her paper for them to read the name. The hotel's oldest guest's name stared back at them. She turned to him. "Angel, I just want to say how proud I am of you and your progress! We've even found fewer stashes lately!"

Angel leaned on the hand he had braced on the bar, his expression near screaming he thought Charlie was adorable in a way that Lucifer could almost see Charlie suddenly questioning if they were finding less stashes lately because Angel had actually been using less or if he was getting better at hiding them. Just as equally visibly, she shook her head to banish the thoughts as if she found them too mean to think before standing resolute by her statement.

Angel wasn't the only one looking at her like they thought she was just too adorable at that point.

His daughter really was too good for this place.

Still, Angel seemed to soak up the positive feedback, something a little more genuine to the playful smile he turned on the bartender. His little paper read, Husk.

Huh, so his name was Husk? But Lucifer thought he'd heard--

Eh, it was a mystery for another day.

Lucifer tuned back in to Angel saying, "You already know you're my favorite person. You always know just what I need after a long day of work."

As if feeling the awkward tension rising from the rest of the group (curiously, all Husk gave was a grunt, and a highly tolerant one at that), Angel shot a coy look over his shoulder at his audience. "All I meant was a good drink. What did you think I meant?"

Charlie clapped her hands together, shaking off whatever just happened there. "Ooookay! Husk! Why don't you go next?"

Husk didn't look thrilled to have been roped into all of this, but he also have the look of someone who had long ago learned it wasn't worth fighting it. He held up his note, which had Niffty's name on it. "Thanks for keeping the bug population down," he rumbled, just this side of sincere.

Niffty was pleased with it either way. She turned on Vaggie (Maggie?) without bothering to pull out her slip. "I really like your room. It has all the mother bugs in it. I thought they could hide from me, but I found them anyway." She cackled, a kitchen knife appearing in her hand seemingly out of nowhere.

"Thaaaanks..." Vaggie's eye twitched as she reached over and plucked the sharp object out of the maid's hand. It disappeared onto her person, likely wherever she hid her spear. Dangerous object temporarily no longer a danger, she held up her paper. Lucifer, it read.

The devil in question felt a small spike of anxiety. He knew what his reputation was like and how it was perceived in Hell and on Earth. He may have ignored it at the time, but he hadn't failed to hear what Adam had spat at him.

The Most Hated Being in All of Creation.

Vaggie, an angel herself, would have heard all the same spew of lies and truths. He didn't think she thought of him that way, but as Charlie's partner, her opinion actually mattered to him.

As if reading his thoughts (and who knew, maybe she could, he was aware of how expressive he was), her sharper edges softened a bit. "I, uh, I'm glad you're not as terrible as they said you are," she offered, looking away.

Lucifer blinked, refusing to admit there might be tears at the corners of his eyes.

He really, really needed to learn her name. Number one goal after this.

Charlie hugged Vaggie, singer her praises. Vaggie played it off that she wasn't moved by them, but one had to be blind not to see how she melted into her girlfriend's arms.

Caught up in the moment, Lucifer could almost forget that it was his turn. And that meant he'd have to say something - ugh - nice to a certain Hellian. He wanted to live in this nice little bubble for a moment.

Sadly, Charlie herself burst it, turning to her father expectantly.

Oh. Oh, how he really didn't want to do this. It didn't help that when he turned to Alastor, the Radio Demon already knew who he'd gotten.

One day. One day, Lucifer was going to wipe that grin off his face. He could be patient.

He could.

Alastor watched him, waiting to see what he'd come up with. Perhaps still waiting to see if he'd make a fool of himself.

Lucifer forced down the irritation, the anger. Felt his muscles loosen. It made it easier to call up his own brand of charm - the same charm that lured not just Lilith but Eve in as well. (Had lured Adam in as well, but, well, that never made it in the history books.) He looked Alastor up and down, eyes half lidded and smile all teeth.

"With a voice like your's, I can see why they let you be a Radio Host." Lucifer's smile edged a touch bit more towards a grin at the way Alastor's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise. On a bit of a high from catching him off guard, the little king reached up for his hat, pulling it off with a flourish. He gave his head a slight shake, as a pair of dear ears - blond, like his hair - appeared on top of his head. A movement off to his left caused them to twitch towards the sound before moving back to face forward. "The ears are cute, too."

This was not the first time he had mimicked someone. He'd become a small, yellow version of Ozzie during performances at the House of Asmodeus. He'd fashioned himself white and red wings like Bee's on the occasional party of hers that he had attended.

The times he'd mimicked Lilith... well, he'd leave that one to the imagination.

Alastor?

Alastor didn't respond. At all. He might as well have been made of stone.

Alastor continued to not respond long enough that Lucier was genuinely worried he might have pushed too hard.

For a split second, between one blink to the next, the Radio Demon's eyes flickered with dials. Something unnerving flickered behind that gaze that set alarm bells off in even the King of Hell's brain.

Slowly, as if it were being drawn up by a puppeteers' string, a single one of Alastor's hands rose up. His eyes locked and his own ears - and how had he not known they were ears? - trained forward as all of his attention remained on the ears on Lucifer's head. Claws sharp enough to go straight through metal like tissue paper ran lightly down one of the blond ears.

Startled, Lucifer lost the concentration needed to hold their shape, ears disappearing.

Alastors' fingers withdrew and if Lucifer didn't know any better, he'd say that was disappointment on Alastor's face. "A shame," he said wistfully. "You look good with them."

Lucifier stared, heat rising to his cheeks and it took ever ounce of self control not to leap across the room.

Alastor, as if nothing had just happened, turned to Charlie. Lucifier didn't hear what he said (it made Charlie happy, whatever it was), something between heat and a chill running down his spine as he worked out what he'd seen.

He knew why it had never occurred to him Alastor was a deer. That look had been hunger. A wendigo's hunger, famished and bottomless.

And, maybe, just maybe, an altogether different type of hunger.

Oh, he was absolutely was never using those ears again.

Tbc

Part 3

#radioapple #alastor #lucifer morningstar #spoiler alert #he's going to be using the ears again #lmao #not sure where this is going from here #deer!lucifer inspired by appleparty #the reveal of the ears scene inspired by simphany da kat's animatic

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sgiandubh · 8 months

Text

Autopsy of a gay lie: the Wikipedia trail

“You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can not fool all of the people all of the time.”

― Abraham Lincoln

For starters, sorry for the length and numerous screencaps. It is an investigation, after all and these are sorely needed.

Never underestimate the conjugated power of Internet, a Sunday afternoon and the lightbulb moment that can happen while baking something, because you know, people have also to reward themselves at some point.

I might have fucked up my foolproof Lemon Squares recipe, but I regret nothing. It took me three hours I could have gratefully used to finish that spirits post, but this is too damn good not to share.

Remember Meow Kabob's cross my heart and hope to die pinky swear she found confirmation of Data Lounge's allegations on Wikipedia, out of all places? How she regularly unburies that infamous screenshot listing S under the Wiki "Gay Actors" category? How she told us, filthy and uneducated shipper mob, over and over again, that story about STARZ people scouring the Internet far and wide and scrubbing any gay reference related to S, as soon or shortly after he was cast as JAMMF?

I can confidently prove now Lincoln's perennial truths I quoted above apply to this situation.

I was just pouring my lemon juice, eggs, flour and sugar mix over the hot and nutty shortbread when I stopped in my tracks: 'wait a second, isn't Wikipedia an open source project? BUT OF COURSE IT IS, SILLY COW - yes, I very often talk to myself like that. RUN. NOW. I HAVE TO KNOW.'

Sure enough, like death and taxes, the full edit list of S's Wikipedia page was there for everyone to see:

Even better, since Internet is forever, we have full access to all these edits and can take screenshots.

This is how Sam's Wikipedia odissey started, on November 11th 2007, when he was the complete underdog:

A ' strapping lad with natural dark blonde hair and 6'2'' tall', ideal for the role of Alexander the Great - pious silence and RIP. I grinned, because it sounds well, naïve? It also sounds gay, perhaps? What else does it prove, other than the gay crowd has an acute interest for novelty and a wandering eye?

Nothing. Not even remotely related to S.

Also, note the two classification categories: British TV actor stubs/ British actor stubs. Mark them, they stayed still and alone for a looooong time.

Up until 2009, in fact, when the wikientry was no longer considered a stub and even got several category additions:

Then again, some movin' on up, on that semi-dormant page, in 2013. Totes normal:

By early 2014, even more interest in S commands an expanded webpage and a longer, more detailed, category listing:

Let's quickly peruse 2015...

2016...

The incorrect Irish descent category stayed there for about ten days, until removed by another user. This is how it is done and it is then added to the list:

2017, 2018, 2019, early 2020, no change in the categories, but all hell broke lose content-wise. From Cirdan, the 'estranged brother' acting in a very gay connotated theatre production I have never heard about, in London, September 2016...

...... to a woman named Tiffany Trach who used to dream the impossible dream, in October 2016 (and she was not the only one, far from it)...

...to some halfwit being rightfully slapped for adding brainless Flukenzie Floozy content in March 2017:

By that time, I was getting supremely bored clicking on links and wanted to pack the tent and throw my lemon squares in the trash bin. But, lo and behold, what do I see on January 26th 2020:

With the tag possible vandalism:

Whodunnit?

A very brave person, hiding under a string of random numbers...

... and one single contribution EVER to the Wikipedia juggernaut. This is what I would call a targeted attack:

It stayed like that, unmolested, for five days only, until the user Spiderpig662 decided enough is enough and did something about it...

....categories being then restored to the previous wording:

The last vicious gay reference on Wikipedia dates back to May 28th 2020 (Ha-wa-wee, anyone?), was labeled as 'hate speech' & promptly removed:

Where wuffter is, in British Cockney slang:

Same modus operandi, this time an IP address, pinging in (you simply can't make this shit up, can you?)...

County Durham, FYI.

I then asked myself when exactly did Meow Kabob appear on Tumblr?

Even more exactly, on...

That is, to say the least, a troubling coincidence.

I do not imply anything, I have no wish to attack anyone. All I am saying, is that particular argument, which this user is shouting anytime she is prompted to, had a very short online lifespan. How could an American woman, who appeared in this fandom shortly afterwards, have known about changes operated for five days only, by an unknown user, on the open source webpage of a B-listed British actor?

I have only one question, Your Honor:

WHY?

I rest my case.

[Edit]: To make it maybe more clear, I now know where the person adding that category lives, thanks to Wikipedia's own tracking system:

No surprises here:

Augusta. Georgia. USA.

Now, yes. Now I rest my case.

#fandom

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floralembarrassment · 1 year

Text

Someone (@iheartstrawberrys) asked for Rosekiller... no one is upset:

He what? (1/1) (rosekiller)

Evan fell first, but Barty fell harder. Barty didn't know he wanted Evan that way until he noticed Evan being shy and pulling away from him.

Evan was his best friend. They were always bouncing together. Vibrating on the same wavelength. Wreaking havoc in sync. And always always laughing endlessly as one.

And when that stopped, Barty fell apart. Night after night he spoke with Regulus about what he had done to make Evan upset, what he could do to make up for something he didn't know he did, distraught at the thought of living without Evan.

And finally Regulus let him out of his misery because he couldn't stand it anymore. What Barty didn't know is that Evan had also been going to Regulus morning after morning, begging and bribing Regulus to just tell Barty for him. Feel him out to see if Barty liked him back, if he would ever have a chance.

"Barty, you know he likes you right?" Regulus cuts off his daily rant.

"What?" Barty says, doing a double take.

"Barty come on," Regulus said. "You obviously like him too," he added as Barty starred at him with wide eyes.

Somehow they got wider as Barty realized his feelings and processed that Evan liked him back.

And oh,

Regulus never saw Barty move so quickly. He jumped off the bed, nearly pulling the curtains surrounding them down, and running out of the dorm to find the boy with the sandy blonde hair and perfect blue eyes that had his heart but neither of them knew it.

"Rosier!" Barty yelled through the busy common room. Barty moved frantically throughout the crowd, pushing over the younger students to get to the corner they always occupied. When he saw Evan looking at him with curiosity, draped over Dorcas legs his heart stopped but he couldn't get to him fast enough.

"Get up," Barty demanded. Evan slowly sat up, suspicion crossing his face.

"I said get up Rosier what's wrong with your ears?" Barty said again.

Evan got up slowly and gripping his wand a bit harder.

"Oh come off it you don't need your wand," Barty said but then grabbed him by scruff and hauled him up to their dorm. Regulus quickly closed his book, got up from his bed and walked out without another word.

"What the hell Barty?" Evan said finally pushing the other boy off him.

"Do you like me?" Barty blurted out, throwing his arms to the side. He watched as Evan's cheeks turned bright red and his gaze fell to his feet.

"I um I don't know who would have said something something so umm look Barty..." Evan stuttered.

"Well you better because I like you too," Barty said dropping his hands. He couldn't help it, always wearing his heart passionately and loudly on his sleeve. "I don't want you to keep pushing me away Evan," Barty added as he watched Evan's sparkle and his lips turn up helplessly as he looked back up to meet Barty's gaze.

"Do you really mean that? That you like me?" Evan questioned.

Barty took the two strides across the room, and just kissed Evan. He couldn't help it. Now that he understood his feelings and knew Evan reciprocated he didn't want to waste anymore time being unsure. And when Evan kissed him back he could have melted but he didn't want to miss any moment of this fire that spread through him that came from his lips pressed to Evan's soft and supple mouth.

Hands pulled on each other, dragging one another in. They could and would talk about all of this later but now, right now they were too pleased with themselves to do anything other than drink each other in.

#rosekiller #slytherin #barty x evan #fanfic #lgbtq+#slytherin skittles #marauders #barty crouch junior #evan rosier #Hogwarts #regulus arcturus black #harry potter #regulus black

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heartateasee · 25 days

Text

“Chapter Three”

Word Count: 6.7k

(Chapter three to “Cherry Bomb” - please make sure to read the TW on the “Cherry Bomb” masterlist before proceeding.)

●・○・●・○・●

“Marlowe Finch!” I hear my name being called across the sea of people in Mikey’s living room as Kailey and I enter his house. It’s then I look over and see the man himself, and a wide smile presses itself onto my lips.

“Mikey!” I squeal as I run over - wrapping my arms around his neck.

His arms are around my waist as he lifts me off the ground, and he twirls me around for a moment before setting me back down. “You look amazing! How’ve you been? How was the move?”

“I’ve been good,” I tell him with a nod. It wasn’t a complete lie. Even after everything that had happened in regards to Harry, I was still in a really good place. “And my house has been all set for a couple of weeks now. You’ll have to come over soon! Kailey and I have already had a movie night, but we should all jam like we used to.”

“Hell yeah, I’d love that,” Mikey says as he throws each of his arms around Kailey and I’s shoulders.

“How about you? How’s life?” I ask, and I can see he’s steering us towards the kitchen.

“Oh, just peachy, you know,” he wiggles his eyebrows. “I have no complaints though, honestly. Life is good.”

We get to the makeshift bar that he’s created on the counter, and he drops his arms from us to clap his hands together.

“Alright, ladies,” he gestures his hands towards all the bottles of liquor and mixers. “All the alcohol your heart could ever desire, and then in the cooler there at the end of the counter are a bunch of different beers. Please, help yourself to anything.”

“Thanks, Mikey,” Kailey and I say almost in unison, and I watch as he walks back into the living room to get lost in the crowd.

“I didn’t realize Mikey’s house was so big,” I muse as I reach for a solo cup - choosing a purple one as I see he has a bunch of different colored ones. There were also sharpies, so I grab one and I doodle a capital ‘M’ with a heart next to it. I don’t intend on leaving my cup anywhere unattended, but at least I can identify which one is mine.

“Yeah, he got some killer job a year and a half ago, and now he makes fucking bank,” Kailey says as we start to make our drinks.

I purse my lips to the side as I see fresh cherries, and I pluck a couple from the container - dropping them into my cup. I use a straw to crush them a little bit so the juice comes out, and then I grab club soda to fill about a quarter of my cup.

“What are you making?” Kailey peers over the lip of my cup, and I can see that she’s settled on whiskey on the rocks in her own.

“It’s a little cherry cocktail I got in the habit of making on the road,” I tell her as I grab the cranberry juice, only adding a smidge of that before reaching for the rum.

“Can I try it once you’re done? It looks yummy.”

“Yeah, of course,” I top the rest of my cup off with the rum, and I stir it all with a straw before taking a large sip. I hum softly when I realize I’ve made it perfectly, and I extend it out to Kailey. “It’s so good.”

Kailey wraps her lips around my straw, and I watch her eyes widen once the drink hits her tongue. “Holy shit, Marlowe,” she gasps. “That’s delicious. Will you make me one for me next drink?

“Absolutely.”

We turn our bodies to face the people in the living room - our lower backs resting against the counter behind us as I nibble on my bottom lip.

“That’s a lot of people,” Kailey sighs, and I nod.

“Yeah.”

After a moment, I reach out and grab her hand to intertwine our fingers together. “You know what? This is our first house party back together. Let’s enjoy it.”

Kailey smiles up at me, and we move into the crowd while keeping a tight hold on each other’s hands. We begin to dance together while sipping our drinks, and it’s then I recognize a few people from highschool, but a lot of the people here I’m completely unfamiliar with. Some people come over and talk to me, mostly wanting to know about touring, and others just wanting to know how many really famous people I’ve met.

I entertain them as best as possible, letting them know that I’ve only really met a handful of super famous people - the most famous probably being Joan Jett after a women in rock event that I was surprised I even got invited to. It was pretty early on after being signed to my label, and I was in complete awe the entire time.

I can’t help but cringe when half of the people ask me who Joan Jett is, and I force myself to end the conversations there - making up some excuse about needing to check on Kailey so I can get away.

My eyes search through the people, and I don’t see Kailey, so I start to make my way towards the little side room that branches off of the living room. You have to go through the main foyer of the house to get to it, and as I start to make my way there, the front door opens.

I look over and I’m immediately hit with piercing ivy colored eyes meeting mine. It’s then that I see a flash of blonde hair, and Rylan is peeking over his shoulder to see why he’s stopped in the doorway. “Harry, move,” she groans, moving his arm up so she can duck under it and make her way into the house.

Rylan hasn’t seen me yet, so I’m quick to move away from the two of them and continue on my search for Kailey. I really didn’t feel like dealing with all of that - especially on my own. I eventually locate Kailey leaning against the wall in the other room as she speaks to a guy I don’t recognize. I stop in my tracks, not wanting to disturb her and interrupt her conversation, but as I go to turn on my heel, I hear her call my name.

“Marlowe!” I turn around and look at her, shooting her a smile, and she gestures her hand for me to come over. I walk over, and she extends her hand out towards the guy. “You remember Connor, right? Mikey’s little brother?”

My eyes widen when I realize that’s who she’s been talking to. “Oh my god!” I exclaim, pulling him in for a quick hug.

He’s about four years younger than the lot of us, and the last time I saw him was when he was still a junior in highschool. “Hi Marlowe,” he says sweetly as he pats my back.

“I didn’t even recognize you! I’m so sorry,” I laugh as we pull away. “I would’ve come right over if I had realized. It’s like you’ve grown two feet since I last saw you.”

Connor tilts his head back with a laugh, and as he goes to speak, a redhead comes up by his side and wraps her arm around his waist. “Connor, come on! It’s our turn for beer pong!”

“I’ll see you guys around,” he says before walking away with the girl.

“That’s his girlfriend, Maisie,” Kailey states. “Highschool sweethearts, those two. They started dating in their senior year.”

I have to force myself not let my mind wander to how things could have maybe been different had I ever told Harry about my feelings for him. It’s not the time or the place to do that, and it also doesn’t matter anymore. The decisions that were made in the past were made for a reason, and there’s nothing that can change that.

Looking down at my drink, I see mine is almost empty as I clear my throat. “I’m almost out. Do you need another?” I ask tapping the side of my cup against Kailey’s.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

We lock fingers again so that we don’t lose each other, and we end up back in the kitchen. I keep my word of making Kailey a drink like mine for her second one with my back to everyone else around us, and it’s not until I hear Rylan’s voice that I close my eyes - not being able to help but cringe.

“Oh, Marlowe, I didn’t know you were going to be here!”

I swallow my pride, and I look over my shoulder at her - forcing a smile. “Mikey invited me, and I haven’t seen him since I’ve been back so…”

“I didn’t know you knew Mikey,” Rylan says as she tilts her head to the side.

“Marlowe knows everyone,” Kailey speaks up, and I can’t help but shoot her a smirk.

I do in fact not know everyone, but I know she’s trying to talk me up.

I finish up Kailey and I’s drinks, and I hand hers over as I turn around to completely face Rylan.

“And you’re Kailey, right?” Rylan asks as she starts to prepare herself a drink.

“In the flesh,” Kailey responds as she takes a sip of her drink, and I can see that Harry is also now heading into the kitchen. I hear Kailey scoff next to me, lowly enough so Rylan can’t hear, and she leans over to speak into my ear. “Am I supposed to be nice, or am I allowed to talk shit?”

I don’t get a chance to answer her as Harry steps behind Rylan, placing a hand on her hip to move her out of the way of the alcohol. “I got yours.”

My body moves closer to Kailey out of instinct, trying to get as far away from Harry as possible, and I take a sip of my drink as Rylan looks back over to me.

“Oh, Marlowe, I know I mentioned us all hanging out last time we saw each other. Harry and I are going out to a club tomorrow night with friends - if you want to join,” she looks over to Kailey. “You can come as well, Kailey.”

I look over to Kailey, and we both shrug. “I don’t see why not.”

I know that me saying that has to get under Harry’s skin, but that’s honestly what I want. I’m actually starting to feed off the fact that my presence bothers him so much. It feels like a little bit of payback for the hurt he’s put me through all these years.

“Are you two dating?” Rylan randomly asks.

I choke on my drink as I realize she’s alluding to Kailey and I, and I notice Harry’s movements stop. It takes a second or two before I hear Kailey’s hearty laugh fill the kitchen. “Who? Marlowe and I?”

“Well, yeah,” Rylan shrugs as she crosses her arms over her chest. “You guys are all glued to each other, and I saw you holding hands before I came into the kitchen.”

“Look, Ry, can I call you Ry?” Kailey asks as Harry peers over to us out of the corner of his eye before she continues to speak. “I happen to love me some ladies, and ladies only, however, we are not dating. Marlowe and I just go way back.”

“Yeah, Kailey, Mikey, Harry and I all used to be in a band together,” I state with a fake smile perched on my lips, and I hear the sound of a bottle clashing against the counter.

“Shit,” Harry hisses, and I can see that he’s tipped over a bottle of tequila, but he’s quick to pick it back up.

“Harry, how come you never tell me these things?” Rylan pouts. “What do you mean my super hot boyfriend used to play music? What did you play?”

Rylan presses onto her tiptoes to wrap her arms around Harry’s neck from behind, and Harry tilts his head back to look at her. His eyes flash over to me for a moment before looking back to Rylan. “Drums. And you know what they say about drummers…”

My stomach churns as I realize what he’s getting at, and I hear Kailey make a gagging noise beside me as Rylan’s giggles fill the kitchen.

“Well, that explains it,” she says as she presses a kiss against Harry’s lips.

“Yeah, we’re walking away now,” Kailey announces loudly as she captures my hand in hers, and we walk into the backyard.

I get a lungful of fresh air once we step outside, and we head over to some lawn chairs that Mikey had set up - plopping ourselves down into them. “Well, that was absolutely vile.”

“I literally have never been around them together before, and that five minute encounter had me wanting to carve my eyes out with wooden spoons,” Kailey shakes her head as she takes a sip of her drink.

I can’t help but chuckle at her words as I pull my pack of cigarettes out of my pocket - slipping one between my lips before lighting it up. “You still don’t smoke, right?”

“Right,” Kailey nods. “But I’m going to go ahead and say thank you because I know you were going to offer.”

Smiling around the filter of the stick, I lift my fingers to pull it away from my mouth after a long drag - making sure to blow the smoke away from Kailey. “We can leave after these drinks if you want,” I shrug, running my tongue over the inside of my cheek. “Mikey’s right wasted already, and I have a feeling that Rylan is going to just keep popping up around us all night.”

“I’m more than okay with that,” Kailey nods. “But are we going back to yours or mine? You know, since we’re dating and all.”

That has the two of us breaking out into a fit of laughter, and we’re quick to finish up our drinks while I finish up my cigarette. Mikey was thankfully outside, so we told him goodbye, but once we’re back in the house I wince.

“Hey, I have to pee really quick,” I tell her. “Are you okay if I leave you here and go? I’ll be so fast, promise.”

Kailey nods. “Yeah, Maisie and Connor are right there, so I’ll go talk to them until you come back.”

I walk towards where I know the hallway is in the downstairs portion of this house, and I see that there’s a line for a door - which I can only assume to be the bathroom.

“Fuck,” I whisper under my breath, really not wanting to wait in a line to leave.

It clicks in my head that there also has to be a guest bathroom upstairs too, and since I know Mikey the way I do, I know he’d have no problem with me using it. I head up the stairs, and I’m more than relieved to see that it’s completely empty. The only problem now is that all the doors are shut, so I’m not sure which one is the bathroom.

I try one door that leads to a bedroom, and when I move onto the one across from it, I see that it also leads to a bedroom, however, I can hear noises coming from this one.

It’s dark in the room, but my eyes finally register, and I see Harry sitting in a chair in the corner with his head tilted back against it. I make note that his eyes are shut, and I trail my own down to see Rylan between his long legs. His hand is holding her hair back into a makeshift ponytail as her head bobs up and down. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she’s clearly giving him head.

“That’s it, Ry,” I hear Harry breathe, and my eyes wander back up. My heart drops as I realize he’s staring right at me as he says it. The tip of his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as the corner of his lips curl up into a smirk. “Good girl.”

I don’t know what it is, but hearing that phrase tumble from his mouth causes a clenching in my stomach, and I’m quick to shut the door as quietly as I opened it. Closing my eyes, I gather myself before pushing my body forward to try another door a little further down.

Thankfully this one is the bathroom, and as I sit down on the toilet to pee, I try my best to clear what I just saw from my head. It pisses me off that him saying those words had that effect on me - not only that, but also the searing eye contact as he did so.

“Get it together, Marlowe,” I whisper to myself as I stand up and flush.

I wash my hands, and I practically race to get back downstairs to Kailey so we can leave. Sighing happily, I can see that she’s in the same spot I left her, and I walk over.

“Ready to go?” I ask, hoping that my current appearance doesn’t give off how flustered I had just become.

“Yeah,” she nods and we both give a wave to Connor and Maisie before heading out of the house.

●・○・●・○・●

“Should I go with a red lip, or a nude lip?” Kailey asks, turning to face me instead of my full length mirror she was standing in front of. She holds up both tubes of liquid lipstick, and I tilt my head to the side.

“I say red. Be bold.”

“I like the way you think,” she turns back to the mirror before beginning to apply the stain to her lips.

I was just finishing up my hair myself, my makeup already being done, and then I was going to have Kailey help me choose between the two outfits I had picked out. One of them was a corset type dress that I hadn’t worn yet that was gifted to me by a designer after doing a photoshoot for them, the other is a more safe option, just a plain black dress with some fishnets.

“Okay,” I sigh as I stand up from my vanity and walk over to my closet. I pull out the two dresses, and I hold them out for Kailey to see. “Which one?”

Kailey looks over, and I see her eyes are immediately drawn to the corset style one. “Oh my god,” she gasps, walking over to run her hand over the material. “You have to wear this one!”

“Yeah?” I ask, pursing my lips to the side. “I have these thigh high boots I could wear with it.”

“Absolutely yes,” Kailey nods. “God, you’re going to look hot as hell.”

I change into the dress, and while I’m starting to get my boots on as well, I order an Uber for Kailey and I. It’s then I also see that I have a text notification from Harry’s number, and I suck in a deep breath before clicking on it.

From: Harry

8:07 pm

I’m less than happy about you coming out with us tonight, but I’m doing it for Rylan, because for some reason she really seems to like you. Don’t expect for us to stay out long.

I don’t even bother responding to his message because there’s really no point. He’s going to be unhappy no matter what I say, and I really don’t feel like getting into a back and forth with him, especially since I’ll have to see him soon.

“What’s wrong?” Kailey asks, eyebrows narrowing as she finishes up the cocktail she made when we started getting ready.

“Harry just being fucking Harry,” I tell her, shaking my head as I zip up my boots. “Just complaining about tonight with me being there and all.”

Kailey rolls her eyes. “I don’t understand what his issue is. He’s acting like you’re the one who wronged him.”

“Right?” I laugh, standing up and grabbing my small clutch. “It’s all confusing considering he was the one who showed up at my gig and asked to talk to me. I could’ve turned him away, but I didn’t. I don’t even know what we wanted to fucking talk about. All he did was act like an asshole.”

“Men are confusing to begin with, but he’s extra confusing.”

My phone vibrates to notify me that our Uber is outside, and we head out the front door. “The good thing is that it seems like he’s on his best behavior when Rylan is around, so I’m hoping that means he’ll just keep his mouth shut tonight.”

Kailey and I slip into the backseat of the Uber, and I’m thankful that the club isn’t too far from my house. We make light conversation with the driver during our ride, and once we get to our destination, we get out.

After showing our IDs to the bouncer at the door, we head into the club where we’re immediately met with heavy bass and strobe lights. I squint slightly, having not really prepared for having lights shining in my face right upon arrival, and I try my best to see if Rylan or Harry were here.

“Oh, I think I see them!” I hear Kailey say to me, leaning over so that I could properly hear her over the music.

Taking my hand, she starts to lead me through the bodies moving together on the dancefloor, and I see Rylan’s blonde hair as she throws her head around. It appears she’s reserved a VIP booth because where they are is a roped off section, and I see that she’s straddling Harry’s thighs with her arms around his neck. His hands are on her hips as she bounces on his lap to the beat of the music, but once Kailey and I’s movement catches his attention, his sight is straight on me.

My eyes trail over him as I see he’s got on a pair of tight black jeans with brown suede Chelsea boots and a white button up that’s open to reveal some of the ink on his skin.

“Hi, those are our friends,” Kailey tells the security guard standing outside of the section.

“We’ll need one of them to tell us that,” he says back - arms crossed over his chest.

I can see that Harry’s watching the encounter, and he smirks softly when he realizes the guard isn’t going to let us pass until one of them comes over to give him the permission to do so.

“Is he for fucking real?” I hear Kailey huff when she realizes that Harry is observing all of this.

It’s when Rylan goes to bend back to reach for her drink on the table behind her that she sees us, and she screams. I wince slightly at the noise, but she’s quick to hop off of Harry and come down to where the guard was standing. “Let them through!”

Rylan takes both Kailey and I’s hands and pulls us into the area before wrapping each one of her arms around us in slight hugs.

“I’m so glad you guys are here!” She squeals, and I can immediately smell the strong scent of alcohol on her breath.

This girl is clearly drunk already.

“Thanks for the invite,” I say once she pulls back, sending her a forced smile.

“You both look great,” she says before heading back over to Harry. “Harry, did you see who’s here?”

Harry just gives her a nod in response before taking a sip of his drink.

“Hi, Harry,” Kailey says, faking kindness in her voice as she keeps it raised over the music. “You look so happy to be out tonight.”

I can’t help but laugh at her words, but I do reach out to give the back of her arm a pinch. She yelps and looks over at me while rubbing the area with a pout on her lips.

“Play nice, please. I’d rather not deal with anything tonight,” I tell her lowly so only she can hear, but I say it with a smile so she knows I’m not upset.

“Okay, fine,” she rolls her eyes. “But if he says one thing out of line, I’m going off on him.”

“That’s fair,” I nod before looking back over to Harry and Rylan. “I’m going to go and get some shots. Does anyone have a preference?”

“I like the sweet stuff!” Rylan exclaims. “But Harry likes whiskey for shots.”

“Okay, so I’ll get you a green tea shot, and a whiskey for Harry. What about you Kailey?”

“Tequila is fine, is that what you’re getting?” She asks.

“Yeah, it’s my go to.”

“Harry was about to get us another round of drinks too, why don’t you go with her?” Rylan asks, and I see her looking over at Harry now.

I don’t miss the way Harry’s jaw ticks at the suggestion, but soon he’s sighing and pushing himself off the bench seat he was sitting on.

“Let’s go,” he mumbles just loud enough for me to hear him as he walks by.

I look over at Kailey, and I can tell she’s waiting for me to tell her whether or not I want her to come with me, but I just shake my head as I start to quickly follow behind Harry as he takes large steps through the crowd.

“Harry!” I call out after him, knowing I’ve yelled loud enough to where he can hear, but he continues to walk.

Just as I’m about to reach out to grab onto the back of his shirt so I don’t get lost among all the people, I’m met with a shoulder clashing against mine due to someone walking the opposite direction of me. I groan at the impact, and I stumble backwards slightly. I feel myself going off balance on the heel of my boot, but before I can teeter all the way a large hand grips to my wrist and pulls me back up straight.

“Pay attention to where you’re fucking going,” Harry hisses in my ear as he presses his cheek against mine. “I’m not your bodyguard.”

“Let go of me,” I snap as I pull my wrist from his grasp, and I move my head back to look at him. “It’s not like I expected someone to ram into me like that. Let’s just get to the bar, and get these drinks so we can go back to the booth and continue to avoid each other.”

This time I’m the one to walk away first, leaving Harry behind as I keep heading towards the bar. It’s against a brick wall with a big red neon sign above it that says ‘Ride with the Devil. Hide with the Lord.’

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks as I step up to the counter fully.

“Can I get two Coors Lights on draft. Two shots of silver tequila, a shot of whiskey and a green tea shot,” I tell him while fishing my card out of my clutch - handing it over to him.

“Sure thing, I’m going to swipe the card and then give it right back to you with the drinks, okay?”

I nod and I watch as the bartender starts walking around behind the bar to gather everything he needs to complete my order, and I can feel Harry’s eyes on me as I wait. After a moment, I look over to him, and I can see that he’s rolling his bottom lip between the pad of his thumb and his index finger as he stares at me.

“Can I help you?” I ask, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

Harry just shakes his head, and I watch as his ivy-colored eyes slide down my body. It’s then that it hits me that Harry’s never really seen me wear clothing like this before. Obviously we were younger back then, and I wasn’t going to wear these kinds of dresses, but even in my late teens and early twenties I wasn’t confident enough to do so.

I can feel my pulse pick up a little bit when I watch him let go of his lip to run the tip of his tongue over it. His staring soon becomes interrupted by the other bartender coming over to ask him what he wants.

The bartender helping me comes back over just moments later with my tray of drinks, and he also hands me my card back. I slip the card into my clutch before reaching out to carefully grab the tray.

“I’ve got this. With your luck you’ll drop the damn thing,” Harry grumbles. “You just grab Rylan and I’s drinks once they come up.”

I go to argue, but Harry is already making his way back towards the booth without me. Rolling my eyes, I wait for the other bartender to place his drinks down, and when they ask for the last name of the tab, I respond with ‘Styles’. They go over to the computer as I pick the drinks up, and they’re quick to come back over to me.

“We don’t have a tab under that name,” she tells me, and I’m hoping she doesn’t think I was trying to skip out on her.

“Uh, okay, you can just put these under Finch then,” I respond - to which she nods.

I see her go back over to the computer, and I can tell from here that she’s clicked on my tab and added the drinks on.

My eyebrows narrow as I start to make my way back through the people, and I’m trying to figure out if the tab was under Rylan’s last name instead of Harry’s. I return to the booth area, and I hand Rylan and Harry’s drinks over to them.

“They said they didn’t have a tab for Styles, so I just put these on mine,” I tell them.

“Oh, that’s because it’s under mine!” Rylan speaks up. “King is the last name in case you need it again for some reason. Thank you for taking care of this round though.”

Harry is looking down at his glass, and for the first time, I see an emotion other than anger written on his face. He almost looks embarrassed.

“No problem,” I respond, still staring at Harry before I turn my attention to the tray of drinks he had carried over for me.

I pass out everyone’s shots accordingly, and I also give Kailey her beer before I stand there with my own beer and shot in each of my hands.

“Cheers, guys!” I say, lifting my shot in the air, and we all tap our glasses together before tipping our shots back into our mouths.

Once we finish the shots, we put all the glasses back on the tray, and then Kailey and I stand over in the corner as we look out at the people dancing.

“I was more than shocked to see him carrying the tray back over for you,” Kailey leans over to tap her shoulder against mine. “Was he nice?”

“Yes, and no,” I shake my head. “Like you said…he’s confusing. Offered to carry the tray, but only because he said I’d drop it.”

We sway our hips lightly to the beat of the song, and I sling my arm around Kailey’s shoulders. “I’m finding you a lady to hook up with tonight. I vow it,” I tell her, thinking back to earlier this week when she was complaining about not getting laid in a while.

“If you’re doing that, then I’m looking for a guy for you,” she states.

“Trust me, I’m not looking to hook up with anyone right now. If I’m going to give someone my attention, it’s going to be for a relationship.”

Kailey nods as she takes a sip of her beer. “Okay, okay, fair enough.”

As the night goes on, I’m already another two beers and two shots deep by the time the alcohol really creeps in on me. I had managed to find Kailey a girl, Sadie, and the two of them hit it off immediately. I watch them as they dance together on the dance floor, and I peek over my shoulder to see Rylan pulling Harry up to his feet.

A few of Rylan’s other friends ended up coming as well, all girls who were definitely around her age. A couple of them talked to me once they realized who I was, considering Rylan made sure to tell every single person that information.

“Come on, Harry, let’s go dance,” Rylan says as she tugs him away from the roped area and onto the dance floor.

Kailey peers over at me at one point, and she coaxes me over with her hand. I finish off the rest of the beer and set the empty glass down before I walk over to her. She turns me around once I reach her, her hands gripping to my hips as she moves them - guiding me in dancing against her as she dances on Sadie.

I can once again feel a set of eyes on me, and I look to see Harry standing behind Rylan as she grinds against him, but his gaze is right on me. His hair is now pulled back into a bun, and I absolutely hate how that causes something to stir inside my stomach - just like last night when I heard the words ‘good girl’ tumble from his lips.

I know I shouldn’t feed into this, especially since he has a girlfriend who’s currently dancing right on him, but the alcohol has my brain going a little fuzzy. It’s also a little exciting to know that I get under his skin, but he also clearly has some sort of draw to me still if he keeps looking at me this way.

Again, it’s all so hard to make sense of.

But if he wants to try and fuck with my head with what he’s doing, then I’ll fuck with his head right back.

Biting down on my bottom lip, I bend over and place my hands on the tops of my knees, and I know that my breasts are spilling over the seams of my dress. I keep my sight right on him as I start to dance harder against Kailey - flipping all over my hair over one shoulder as I do so.

I begin to let the alcohol truly ease my nerves, and I feel Kailey’s hands gripping to my hips even harder. I can hear her giggling behind me which in turns makes me giggle as well.

Staying in my position, I dance that way for a while before I straighten up a little to lean my back against Kailey’s chest. Her small hands rest on my stomach as she leans further into Sadie.

“Marlowe, he can’t stop staring at you,” Kailey says into my ear.

I nod softly. “I know. It’s fucking annoying, but I also like messing with him.”

That causes Kailey to let out a larger laugh as she reaches up to wrap her arms around my neck - pressing a firm kiss against my cheek.

“You’re my hero, Marlowe Finch, I swear to god.”

The rest of the evening still consisted of stolen glances, and a few more shots, before we decided to call it a night.

As we stand outside, I see Kailey and Sadie talking to each other a small distance away. They’re sharing small kisses as they talk with hushed voices, and I smile to myself when I realize that maybe I really did do a good job of picking someone out for my friend tonight.

Rylan and Harry stand just off to the side as well to say goodbye to their other friends before the two of them are walking over to me.

“Thank you so much for coming out, Marlowe,” Rylan slurs as she wraps her arms around me, stumbling slightly as she pulls me in for a hug. “You’re so much fun. I can’t wait until we do this again.”

I flash my eyes to Harry over her shoulder for a moment before I’m reciprocating the hug - giving her a few pats on the back when I realize she’s not going to let go any time soon.

“Thank you for the invite,” I tell her. “I really did have a good time.”

Hearing footsteps behind me, I look to see Kailey coming back over with flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

“You’re not going with Sadie?” I ask her, eyebrows narrowing.

“We kinda agreed that we’d rather take things slow. I think we both ended up liking each other a little more than anticipated, so we want to do things more seriously,” she responds.

“Marlowe the matchmaker,” Rylan giggles before wrangling Kailey in for a hug as well. “I had a great time with you too, Kailey.”

Kailey looks at me with a confused look, and I just shrug as I check my phone to see where my Uber is. Once Rylan releases Kailey, I see her look between the three of us, and that’s when I realize she’s expecting us to say goodbye to Harry as well.

“Oh Jesus,” Kailey mutters under her breath before walking forward to give Harry a half hug. “Good seeing you Styles, even if you didn’t utter a word to me the whole night.”

I swallow down a laugh at her words when I see Harry grimacing - barely wrapping his arms around her to hold her back.

Once they separate, I suck in a deep breath as I hear Rylan beginning to yap in Kailey’s ear again while I slowly wrap my arms around Harry’s neck. I press onto my tiptoes a bit to rest my cheek against his, very similar to what he did to me earlier, and I feel him encompassing my waist with his own arms.

He’s definitely holding me tighter, and closer, than he did Kailey - causing my pulse to quicken.

Even though he smells of alcohol, he still has that scent of a tobacco-like musk with a hint of sweetness that I’ve missed so much, and my eyes slip shut as I can’t help but to breathe it in more. I think I’m imagining things for a moment, but I indeed feel his fingers just slightly running through the ends of my hair.

I can’t let myself indulge too much. We’re both drunk. He’s still going to be an asshole to me, so I’m not about to think this means anything more than it really does.

“This doesn’t change a thing,” Harry says into my ear, hand falling from my hair as his arms loosen around my waist.

I freeze at his words, the warmth that was enveloping my body without me even noticing instantly fading away. Keeping my cheek against his so I can still respond, I begin to peel my arms away from his neck.

“You’re fucking confusing, you know that?” I whisper before pulling away completely.

Harry’s brows narrow at my comment, but he still doesn’t speak. It’s then I hear the sound of tires crunching close to us, and I pull my phone out to see my Uber is here.

“Kailey, you just want to come back to mine?” I ask, and she nods as we walk over towards the car.

“See you guys!” I say to both Rylan and Harry, flitting my eyes between the two of them before slipping into the Uber with Kailey.

Once I have the door shut, and I do my seatbelt, I can still see Harry staring at me through the window - Rylan completely oblivious as she lights up a cigarette next to him. The stirring in my stomach begins to happen again as he lifts up a hand to toy with his bottom lip like he did earlier in the night.

It’s then I realize that no matter how poorly Harry treats me, I can't fight the attraction that’s still there, but that doesn’t mean either of our emotions are going to change.

This is obviously just the beginning of what could become a really complicated situation, and I just hope I’m mentally prepared to deal with all of it.

●・○・●・○・●

Taglist: @daydreamingofmatilda @prettygurl-2009 @ghoststyles @lillefroe @gem1712 @lemoncrushh (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, please send me a DM!)

26 notes · View notes

poledancingdinos · 1 year

Text

Lightweight

Pairing: Young!Syverson X OFC (Maddie)

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Angst, Alcohol, Hurt/Comfort

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @elizabetharegina @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25

A/N: Working my way through my abandoned WIPs. This one was originally a milestone celebration challenge based off the prompt "Should you be drinking that much?"

Masterlist

Sy’s friends had insisted that on his last Friday night of freedom, a bonfire party was compulsory. He could think of a few other things he’d prefer to be doing like having dinner with his mama or spending the night with a certain little lady, but at least the thrum of the party crowd would keep his mind occupied.

Maddie was the only person missing and Sy knew as soon as he heard the car door that she’d finally arrived. He approached from behind as his oldest friend poured copious amounts of liquor into a red plastic cup.

“Woah there, lightweight, you might wanna pace yourself,” Sy teased, throwing an arm around her shoulders. He’d intended to pull her into a hug but Maddie instantly jerked away from his touch, slamming the forty ounce down on the table and turning to face him. “I can drink whatever the hell I want, Sy!”

He was fixed in place, mouth agape, as he watched her storm off to the porch. Her best friend, Ashley, walked into the kitchen just as Madison left, pulling a beer from the fridge.

“What the devil’s gotten into her tonight?” Sy asked, frowning in the direction Madison had run off. She was normally so quiet and reserved — he could count on one hand the number of times she’d raised her voice at him and it had never been undeserved.

“You mean she didn’t tell you either? I thought for sure you’d have been the first one she confided in. I had to drag it out of her in the car.”

Sy finally broke his gaze away from the yard, looking over his shoulder at Ashley. “What are you talkin’ about?”

Her beer hissed as she twisted the top off the bottle and wordlessly offered one to Sy. “You know that position she interviewed for at her work? The promotion?”

Sy nodded, accepting the bottle. “Yeah, I remember her sayin’ it was a good raise, better benefits…”

Ashley leaned her forearms on the counter, picking at the corner of the paper label with her nail.

“Well, she got passed up for it. They gave it to some other guy and the explanation was that she was ‘overqualified for that specific position’.”

“What kind of bullshit is that? If she’s overqualified for a promotion, isn’t she then also over qualified for her current job?” Sy demonstrated his annoyance by downing half of the cold liquid in one go.

“I agree, it’s bullshit. For now, she’s stuck as an entry-level associate with no insurance, shit pay and working twice as much as the people above her in the food chain. I keep telling her to quit but she’s convinced nobody would want to hire her.”

Sy was silently fuming, shaking his head. “Why wouldn’t she tell me any of this?”

He was angry at her dumbass boss for not realizing how amazing she was, but he was also hurt that she hadn’t told him herself. Didn’t she know that she meant everything to him? Did she think he wouldn’t care?

Normally when he was home on leave they spent every spare second together. This last week she’d been uncharacteristically withdrawn and now he knew why.

“I don’t know, Sy. You’d have to ask her that.” She gave him a sympathetic smile, stepping away to join the rest of the guests.

Sy looked out of the little window over the sink, eyes trailing over the yard until he found the girl he was seeking sitting in a chair on the far side of the yard. It was already getting late, the warm mid-summer sun having fully set. One of the guys was adding another log to the glowing embers in the fire pit.

He fought with himself, debating whether he should go talk to her, but the opportunity was lost when the rest of the girls gathered around the fire and took up the remaining camping chairs. He watched from afar, seeing her take a sip from her overfull cup every other sentence. In only a few minutes, the cup was set upside down on the ground and one of Sy’s friends shoved a shot glass full of tequila into her hand.

Sy’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his name being called. Realizing that he couldn’t spend his going away party hiding in the kitchen, he downed the remaining beer, setting the empty by the sink and trading the quiet of the kitchen for the medley of excited voices of the yard.

About an hour later, more camping chairs were added around the fire and the boys settled between the ladies. Of course, yet another round of shots was passed around and Maddie threw back not only hers but the one meant for the girl beside her as well.

Sy knew it wasn’t his place to say anything, that she was her own person and fully capable of making her own decision, but the look on her face compelled him to speak up. She was normally a happy drunk. Give that girl a few glasses of sweet wine and she turned into this cute, giggly ball of sunshine but instead she was hunched down in her chair, not really paying attention to the others around them except when they waved alcohol in her face.

When she stood on shaky legs to head back into the kitchen, Sy followed.

“Should you be drinking that much?” he asked, startling her so badly she dropped the liquor bottle which landed on the counter with a loud bang. Thankfully, it was still screwed shut and didn’t shatter on impact.

“I— I can do wh’tever the hell I want.”

“That’s true,” he conceded, moving closer. “But just ‘cause ya can, don’t mean you gotta make yourself sick.”

“Fuck off, you’re just ‘nother guy trying to tell me what I can or can’t do. Only time guys ever talk t’me these days is to bark orders.”

Sy had never seen her act in that way before and, frankly, he didn’t know what to make of it. He had a hard time believing it was only her job making her so upset. Or maybe she had more to drink than usual and this was just what excessive alcohol did to her.

Whatever the reason, he hated seeing her so upset. “I’m not barkin’ orders, Squirt, I’m looking out for your safety.”

He’d meant his tone to be soothing but it had the opposite effect.

“Don’t call me that!” Maddie snapped. She secretly hated when he called her “squirt”, it was a constant reminder that she was nothing more than an annoying little sister to him.

“Been callin’ ya Squirt for damn near fifteen years, that ain’t gonna change now.”

She scoffed, attempting to march away but only making it two feet before stumbling and nearly falling flat on her face. Sy caught her just in time but she was less than grateful.

“I don’t need you… I don’t need your help.”

He sighed, getting frustrated with the bratty behavior.

“Look, I heard about the job and I’m real sorry about that but you’re actin’ like it’s me you’re angry with, and for the life of me, I don’t know why.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter does it?” She hiccuped. “‘Cause you’ll be gone and I’ll be here and I’ll be stuck with just myself! I don’t even like my job, I just wanted to have something, fucking anything, in my life to keep my mind off the fact that I’m stuck here worrying that the guy I love, who doesn’t even love me back, might never come home and that then I really will be all alone!”

The young woman sobbed in his arms, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breath after her furious ranting. Sy went over her words in his head, his mind playing catch up.

“What was that about a guy?”

Maddie’s eyes went wide but she didn’t answer, instead planting her palms against Sy’s chest and slipping out of his arms. She made a beeline for the front door and Sy chased after her, hoping like hell she wasn’t thinking about getting in her car and driving off.

“No, we’re not goin’ that way,” he said as he wrapped an arm around Maddie’s waist. “Come on, let’s get you to a bed.”

Had it been anyone else, those words would have sent a terrified shiver down her spine but this was Sy.

Sy who’d been her friend since they were kids.

Sy who knew her better than she knew herself.

Sy who gave all her boyfriends the “if you hurt her, I’ll beat your ass” speech.

Sy whose embrace made Maddie feel like she meant something yet always looked as disinterested as if he’d hugged his sister once he let go.

“Fine,” she eventually agreed.

Maddie allowed Sy to lead her up the steps and into the house’s only guest bedroom. He always stayed with a friend when he was on leave since his mama had moved out of state.

But if she slept in Sy’s bed, where was he going to sleep?

“Right here to make sure you don’t suffocate in your sleep.”

It seemed she’d asked that last question out loud.

Maddie dropped onto the mattress, immediately regretting it when her head spun from the bounce. She turned her back to Sy, intent on ignoring his presence but then the bed dipped and Sy pulled her into his chest.

They hadn’t shared a bed since they were children and his mother had to work the graveyard shift. Though she had fallen asleep with her head on his lap a time or two and they had always greeted each other with hugs, cuddling was not something they had ever done before.

“That guy you said you love,” Sy whispered, pressing a cheek to the top of her head, “why do you think he doesn’t love you back?”

“Because he doesn’t. He never has. If he did, he’d have asked me out by now.”

Sy tightened his embrace, stroking a soothing hand up and down Maddie’s arm. “See darlin’, I think he loves you just as much as you love him. I think he didn’t want to tell you because he thought it would hurt too much to leave you behind.”

“So I was right. I am alone.”

“No,” he said. “You’re never alone, Maddie. He loves you. He’s loved you for years. Even when he’s away, all he can think about is you.”

Sy prayed that her alcohol addled brain could understand what he was trying to say. He’d already spent that long chickening out every time he got the chance to confess his feelings, he wasn’t sure he would be able to do it all over again.

“Then why does he keep leaving?”

“‘Cause lovin’ ya also means he wants to keep you safe.” Sy gently tipped Maddie’s head up catching her gaze. “This is just somethin’ I gotta do right now, Sweetheart. I wish I didn’t have to leave you but I do have to go.”

Finally getting a good look at her, Sy realized she had dark circles under her eyes, suggesting she hadn’t gotten much sleep in the last few days. He hoped that his impending deployment wasn’t the cause but based on what she had just said, it might very well have been. Her eyelids kept falling shut but she seemed to be fighting hard to stay awake and finish the conversation.

“Get some sleep, Sweetheart. We can finish this in the morning. I’ll be right here all night, okay?”

“I’m scared for you, Sy,” she mumbled, nuzzling into his chest and clinging to his shirt.

He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I know, I’m scared too.”

How could he not be scared? It was his first deployment, he had no idea what to expect. He looked down at the woman now sleeping softly on his chest. At least now he had something to look forward to once he returned home.

#captain syverson #captain syverson x ofc #captain syverson fic #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson fanfiction #henry cavill

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chubbypotatoepie · 4 months

Text

Lily’s War (Chapter 5)

Summary: SOE Agent Lily Darlington is unexpectedly demoted from her position and offered a life changing opportunity to become the first female Paratrooper in US history?

Pairing: TBD - The suspense is part of the fun, no?

Warnings: Mentions of violence, language

A/N: Chapter 5!

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Camp Toccoa, 1942.

The drizzle outside had turned the Toccoa countryside into a muddy mess. Inside the crowded bunkhouse, the air was thick with a mix of cigarette smoke and the pungent aroma of wet wool. The men of Easy Company lounged on their bunks, nursing their aliments, exhausted from a day of drills and exercises, their ears still ringing from Sobel’s screeching. The incident at the combat drill was still fresh in everyone's minds, the men sat on their cots, eyeing each other with a mix of confusion and suspicion, their usual gambling and shit-talking pushed aside for the evening. Only Luz seemed genuinely impressed, nursing his jaw where he had taken an accidental elbow from Randleman during the scuffle.

"What the hell just happened out there?" Joe Toye grumbled, fighting his lighter for a flame as he sat on his bunk, his wet hair dripping onto his shoulders.

"No idea. But Lieb sure got his ass handed to him," Perconte added, throwing Toye a pack of matches as he passed, still trying to process what he'd witnessed.

Guarnere, ever the cynic, rolled his eyes. “Ain’t no way I just watched some dame outfight Liebgott. Makes no fuckin’ sense.”

Cobb, unnoticed in the doorway, listened intently. He had a habit of lurking around other bunkhouses, craving a sense of camaraderie he struggled to find in his own. His eyes, ever watchful, focused on the animated discussion as he puffed away on a cigarette.

Webster, unlaced his boots and kicked them to the side before glancing over at Luz, sat half on, half off his cot shuffling a pack of cards, grinning to himself like a Cheshire Cat. “Well you’re best friends with the girl Luz, care to enlighten us on what just went down.”

Luz looked up at the men staring in his direction. “What the hell should I know?” He said shrugging his shoulders. Webster was right that he was friends with Redcoat, but as for what just took place, he was just as baffled as the rest of the men.

Randleman chuckled, taking a drag from his cigarette. ‘All I know is that Girl’s got some moves. Reminds me of a wildcat, unpredictable, shifty.”

“Alright country boy, All I’m saying is I ain’t never seen a dame fight like that, taking down Liebgott like he was a rag doll,” Gaurnere mumbled.

Malarkey, nursing a bruised ego after being taken down himself, scoffed, "Yeah, but how does a girl like her learn to fight like that? Ain't natural, if you ask me.”

Cobb, seizing the opportunity to contribute to the conversation, spoke up from the doorway. "I heard she's almost outshooting Shifty. What kind of girl can shoot like that?” The mention of her marksmanship prowess added another layer of intrigue to the already mysterious woman. The men exchanged puzzled glances, each grappling with their theories about her background and abilities.

“Yeah, and where the hell d'you hear that?” Toye replied, his eyes rolling in disbelief, barely looking in Cobbs's direction.

“Spiers.” He replied, matter of factly. “Maybe she’s a German spy, sent to sabotage us from the inside,” Cobb suggested, his voice low and conspiratorial.

The room fell silent as the suggestion hung in the air. The men exchanged uneasy glances, the idea taking root in their minds.

"A spy? Jeez, Cobb, that's a bit far-fetched," Malarkey scoffed.

"Think about it," Cobb insisted. "She just shows up out of nowhere, none of us know a damn thing about her. Almost outshooting Shifty, Liebgott getting his ass handed to him?”

"I've been shooting since I was a kid, and she was giving me a run for my money,” Shifty mentioned, shuffling his hands in his lap. “But I’m not saying she’s a spy or anything.” He shot his hands up in defense.

The bunkhouse was filled with a charged atmosphere, discomfort and suspicion swirling like a storm.

"Maybe she's some kind of martial arts expert," Perconte suggested, trying to rationalize what they had witnessed. "You know, like those Japs with their karate stuff.”

The tension was broken by Jonny Martin shoulder passing Cobb as he made his way into the bunkhouse, giving him a shifty look as he passed, soaked through from the rain.

“Who died?” He said pointedly, uncomfortable by the silence from the usually rambunctious group.

“Liebgott’s dignity.” Cobb scoffed from behind him.

Martin’s eyebrows raised in response. “Yeah, I just came from that way, had to help hold Liebgott down while they popped his arm back in. Could hear Sobel chewing her out from a mile off. He said shaking his head at the thought.

As the conversation lingered, Cobb slipped away from the doorframe, leaving the men to contemplate the enigma that had entered their ranks. In the world of war, where every secret held potential danger, the bunkhouse at Camp Toccoa became a hub of suspicion and curiosity, its occupants unwittingly drawn into a web of unanswered questions about the girl who had just proven herself more than a match for Liebgott.

— -

The flickering light from the film projector cast shadows on the walls of the dimly lit hut as the men gathered for an evening of official training films lecturing the men on the importance of hygiene. The echoes of Liebgott's disgruntled mumbles still lingered in the air, the atmosphere around the men was tense, a mixture of confusion accompanied by an undercurrent of suspicion surrounding the outsider. The War Department’s attempt at a Nickelodeon droned on as Lily sat amongst the rabble, her eyes rolling at the notion that grown men needed instruction on basic cleanliness, her expression one of amused bewilderment.

As the film extolled the virtues of regular showers, Lily couldn't help but mutter under her breath to Luz, “This is ridiculous. What’s next, a tutorial on how to tie their boots?”

Luz chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. "You'd be surprised what some of these guys need to be reminded of.”

Their hushed conversation didn't escape the notice of Cobb, who sat in the row behind. Always on the lookout for an opportunity to needle Lily, he leaned in between the pair and smirked, "Well, Redcoat, maybe some folks need these lessons more than others. I've never seen you in the showers, you know.”

She turned slowly to face the man. ”Perhaps that's because I like to keep an air of mystery, Cobb. I’d rather run Currahee with Sobel strapped to my back than have to shower within ten feet of you.” Her eyes squinting as she smirked to match him.

Cobb's face reddened in embarrassment, and he retorted, "You think you're clever, don't you? Just wait till you're out there in the real action, sweetheart.” He said, folding his arms as he slunk back into his seat. Dissatisfied with the exchange, Cobb grumbled to Toye, "She's always got some smart-ass comment.”

A sshhh was aimed at Cobb from further down the row, his head whipped back and forth to find the culprit. “I’m just saying, I ain't ever seen her in the showers.” He voiced to an uninterested Toye again.

Shifty sighed, lighting up a cigarette before he answered the man. "You see, Cobb, Sobel don’t let her shower with the rest of us. Makes her wait until the coast is clear.”

Cobb's annoyance deepened. "What? Why does she get special treatment?”

“Why the hell do you care?” Toye responded, not even bothering to look in Cobb’s direction, seemingly more interested in the virtues of regular sock changes over the small man’s problem. Sensing his wall, Cobb whispered something to Liebgott, still nursing his shoulder as he replied, muttering something unintelligible, and the conversation moved on as the training film continued to play. Unbeknownst to Lily, whispers circulated among those who had overheard the conversation. Lily, caught in the crossfire of prejudice and resentment, became the unwitting target of a brewing storm within the ranks. The shadows of contention stretched across the hut, setting the stage for a night that would test the fragile bonds of brotherhood.

— -

The bathhouse at Camp Toccoa was a modest structure, a refuge for the trainees to wash away the grime of the day and the bruises of training. Lily stood alone in the quiet, having waited patiently for the usual post-training rush to subside. The air was thick with the lingering scent of soap and damp towels. She couldn't help but smirk at the thought that, perhaps, the men had indeed learned something from the training film, given that they had taken double their usual time in the showers, accompanied by the water fogging over and dripping from the unending row of mirrors.

She surveyed her reflection in the foggy mirror, her eyes drawn to the bruises adorning her face like paint. A particularly nasty shiner, courtesy of Liebgott's unyielding fist during the hand-to-hand combat drill, dominated the canvas. She sighed, tracing her fingers across the swollen skin, wincing as she met the peak, not broken-thank God, but not great either. Her hands moved up to the braided bun that sat at the nape of her neck, eager to relive the tension headache stemming from it. The pins holding it in place dinged on the sink as she shook out her long hair, allowing it to fall around her shoulders. Lily threaded her fingers through the dark brunette strands, massaging her scalp as she went. It had been tempting once or twice to cut it short and mimic the men in that regard, hell it would make her life a lot easier, however, she couldn’t quite bring herself to reach for the clippers.

She pushed herself off the sink and made her way over to the shower, her body ached to stand under the hot water and wash the day away. The showers had become some sort of sanctuary for her. Sobel’s attempt at keeping her at arm's length from the men was playing to her benefit. It was the only place in the entire camp where she could be alone, a space to think, to remind herself why she joined, she craved the solace it provided.

She hung her towel on the hook outside the stall, reaching in to turn the hot water on before stepping in and allowing the hot stream to drench her body, the rhythmic patter of droplets echoed in the tiled hut, a stark contrast to the eerie silence that hung in the air. Lily couldn’t remember a time she had showered without her PT uniform still on - a precautionary measure, better to be safe than sorry she thought. She watched as the water blended her shirt with her skin, her underwear with her dirt-speckled legs. As she placed her head back beneath the water, she sensed a shift in the air - a subtle change that pricked at her instincts, unable to shake the feeling that something was amiss.

She halted, her breath shallow, straining to hear any out-of-place noise. The air seemed to thicken as the steam filled the hut, she could barely make out the muted sound of a boot squeaking on the tile floor. Before she could react, a sudden blow shot through the shower curtain and struck her side, knocking her against the shower wall. Lily gasped, pain shooting through her ribs. The dim light blurred through the shower curtain barely revealing two dark figures closing in on her. Dread set in as she realized she had been followed. The tension that had lingered since she arrived had erupted into something more sinister. The echoes of their footsteps mixed with the rhythmic pounding of the water against the tiles, created a disorienting symphony of violence. She could feel the oppressive confinement of the bathhouse closing in around her, her training instincts drowned out by the brutal reality of the ambush.

The second blow came quickly, a fist struck the side of her head, the force knocking her back against the cold, tiled wall. Lily gasped for air, her ribs protesting the impact. Before she could recover, another blow landed, this time to her stomach, doubling her over. The shadows seemed to close in, the scent of soap mixing with the metallic tang of blood. The main instigator, a burly soldier, led the charge. His accomplice, hesitant but spurred on by misplaced loyalty, flanked him. As they closed in, Lily's muscles tensed.

In the disorganized struggle, Lily managed to dodge the next blow, sliding further down the wall and jutting out her right leg from where she was slumped over, connecting with the right assailant's midsection as he moved in. However, before she could capitalize on the momentary advantage, the reality of her outnumbered position became painfully clear as her attackers overpowered her, grabbing her and hauling her out of the stall. As Lily’s abdomen took another blow, recognition flashed across the face of one of her assailants, followed by shock.

"You didn't say it was the girl!" He hissed, his initial aggression giving way to disbelief as his grip on the girl loosened.

The main assailant didn’t hesitate with his next blow, his fist connecting with the bruise already given to her that day by Liebgott, unfazed by the soldier's protest.

Cornered and outnumbered, Lily attempted to fight back with every ounce of strength she could muster. Yet, the confined space of the bathhouse restricted her movements, turning the struggle into a nightmarish dance where every move felt like a step closer to defeat. A vicious blow to her leg sunk Lily to the floor, her knees giving out beneath her. As the blows rained down, Lily's fingers groped for anything that could turn the tide. A boot, a towel, anything. Her heart stopped as her eyes landed on a speck of glitter, her fingers erratically slapped the floor in search, until they closed around what felt like an accidentally discarded razor under the sink, its cool metal offering a fleeting sense of hope. In a desperate bid for survival, Lily flung her body over, her arm carving through the air looking for her assailants. A guttural cry mixed with the sounds of struggle emanated from behind her as she slashed back, a momentary disruption in the violent ballet. However, the respite was short-lived. Her victim, blinded by rage, retaliated with a singular savage blow that sent Lily crashing against the hard, tiled shower wall. The impact reverberated through her skull, and the world blurred into a disorienting mosaic of pain and darkness. As Lily's consciousness waned, the bathhouse echoed with the retreating footsteps of the men, leaving only the oppressive silence of betrayal and brutality. The steam lingered like a shroud over the scene, and the shadows, now stained with the taste of vengeance, swallowed the fallen girl in a world where loyalty had been twisted into something unrecognizable.

— -

“You ain’t got no poker face Perconte.” George Luz jeered, leaning back on his stool as he tossed another coin onto the growing pile.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, radio-boy.” He replied, checking his cards for the third time. “I’m gonna take all your money, and then your girls tonight at the bar.”

“Sure about that, but you’re down an ace and you’ve got two 7’s & a 4 so I don’t know how you’re planning on turning that around.”

“What the hell!? You’re cheating!” Perconte erupted, throwing his cards onto the cot as he shot up from his seat.

“I can see your cards in the window reflection dumbass.” Luz laughed, leaning back on his chair, puffing away at a lucky strike.

The commotion caught the attention of Martin, the tip of his rifle glinting in the dim light, who shot a stern look at the bickering duo. “Shut up already, would ya? You got loud mouths on you.” He grumbled, trying to maintain focus on his polishing. Toye, lounging on his bunk, engrossed in a comic book added, “Yeah, I’m trying to read here, take your damn argument outside.”

The barracks erupted into chaos as insults flew across the room. Amidst the turmoil, the bunkhouse door swung open, almost unnoticed. Perconte, ready to fire back at Toye, fell silent, his gaze fixed on a young figure making her way up into the bunkhouse.

“What the hell?” Perconte whispered, one arm still pointed at Toye, the other gripping the bed frame he had been attempting to climb over, perched half on, half off the ground.

The room fell into a hush as the battered figure passed by them. Dripping wet, she silently made her way toward her cot at the rear of the bunkhouse, her eyes fixed forward, ignoring the confused and pained expressions on the faces of the men as she passed.

Liebgott’s trademark smirk vanished as his eyes fell upon the injuries that marred Lily’s face and body. “Jesus Christ.” Escaped from his lips before he even realized it.

She locked eyes with him as she passed, sending a shiver through him. Her eyes were haunting, both bloodshot red, the left curtained by a deep purple crescent-shaped bruise that was split open at the tip, and a wet trail of blood oozed its way down her reddened cheek. Joe’s eyes trailed a droplet of blood as it fell from a jaunty slit in her eyebrow. She made no attempt to blink it away, staring into him as it pooled into her wet lashes.

He felt his breath hitch as she stopped at the base of his cot, his hands tensed in his pockets and his usual smirk was nowhere to be seen. It was only seconds, perhaps just one, perhaps it was two, but to Joe, it felt like hours, his eyes scanned her as he waited. Her clothes were soaked through, with both water and blood. It clung to her figure like a whisper, revealing the lines of her body, her arms, her chest, her waist. His eyes dropped, fixing on an unsettling mark, a vivid testament to her encounter. A red-orange bloodstain, once bold and intense, now transformed into a disconcerting hue as it mingled with the damp fabric, it betrayed a muted vibrancy, creating an unappealing palette of rusty tones against the stark white backdrop of her shirt, telling a silent story. She couldn’t help but feel uneasy as his eyes took in the spectacle before him, the silence between them disturbed by the slow drip of her diluted blood onto the floorboards between them. His eyes moved up to meet hers, noticing the staggered rise and fall of her chest as she breathed through her pain. She took one last look up at the man, before walking back towards her bunk.

An uncomfortable tension hung in the air as the subsequent moments unfolded with disquieting ease. The room bore witness to a palpable weight, settling like a thick fog, as the men, observed in silent contemplation. The battered girl, a resilient figure despite her injuries, delicately moved to slide off her jump boots at the bedside. As she gingerly bent over, a wince etched across her face, George Luz felt the urge to move, to say something. Yet, his words remained unspoken, caught in his throat, as he watched in wide-eyed confusion.

“Luz” Her voice broke through the silence, grabbing the attention of every man in the room.

“Luz” She repeated, herself, her voice strained as she stared at the radioman.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, what do you need?” He hesitated, taking in a deep breath as he waited for her reply.

“A shirt.”

“Um, yeah, I’ve got you, I can do that.” Luz pushed past Perconte and started riffling through his trunk in search of a clean shirt, muttering to himself as he did. Once secured, he stood up, his eyes meeting those of Bull Randleman’s both seemingly searching each other’s for a level of understanding of what they were seeing. With a head jerk from Bull, he walked over to the girl, placing it on the bed next to her, watching her peel off her shirt, a sharp intake of breath escaped her as it moved over her fresh wound.

As the shirt slid away, it revealed an intricate tapestry of marks. The men traced their path, some fresh, some seemingly older. As the extent of her wounds emerged, the atmosphere bore witness to a sobering reality. The air seemed to tighten with a peculiar mix of discomfort, shame, and sudden awareness. The men found their eyes trailing down her body, landing at the large pronounced scar on her abdomen, Luz could feel his heartbeat in his hands as he stood next to her. The fusion of her wounds and the unveiling of her femininity momentarily disrupted their comfort, and a sense of collective venerability permeated the room.

The hallowed silence lingered, pregnant with unspoken thoughts and emotions, as the men grappled not solely with the reality of her injuries, but with the realization that beneath the uniform and the battlefield they were to share, there existed a woman with an intricate narrative - a narrative that now unfolded before them, leaving them suspended in a moment where the boundaries between soldier and woman, ally and stranger, blurred into an uneasy alliance of shared humanity.

Randleman was the first to move, exchanging a glance with Guarnere, a silent understanding passed between them. They rose from their seats across the bunkhouse simultaneously, their expressions almost unreadable, a mix of concern and an underlying anger that simmered just beneath the surface. Lily, still standing by her bunk, felt the weight of their intrigue as they approached her.

Bull, jaw clenched, spoke first. “You gonna tell us what this is?” His head loomed over hers, the perspective making her feel even smaller than usual.

Lily sniffed in response, her eyes focused on finding the opening to the shirt. “I’m fine.” She replied, her head fixed downwards. Her voice held a fragile quality, desperately trying to maintain a facade of indifference.

“Don’t look fine to me.” Guarnere cut in, his fists tightening in his pockets.

Lily remained stoic, silent. The room, buzzing with tension, held its breath as the trio engaged in a silent dance of unspoken words and palpable discomfort.

“Then I fell.” She said halfheartedly, pulling the fresh shirt over her battered frame. The crisp white cotton was marked instantly by her wounds.

“Like fuck you fell.” Guarnere moved closer to her, only to be stopped by a hand on his chest.

“Go get Doc Bill,” Martin said pointedly, ignoring the look from the fired-up man, anger etched across his face. “Roe,” Martin spoke again, pointedly.

Bull seized the opportunity before she could speak, “Roe’s gotta take a look at you. No arguments.” Lily’s resistance wavered as Bull’s stern gaze bore into hers. “If you won’t go willingly, I will pick you up and take you there myself, little bird.” His voice left no room for negotiation.

Lily’s body was beginning to feel the weight of her injuries as she stood there, the adrenaline fading away. She wiped away at a trail of blood as it threatened to trickle into her eye, wincing at the bruise it lay against. Bull Randleman’s determination seemed unwavering, his gaze drilling into her. Finally, with a resigned nod, she gave in. The room’s oppressive silence persisted, only broken by the shuffling of feet and the sound of Martin issuing orders.

— -

The journey to the medical bay was solemn, tension and anger hung thick in the air. Bull reached out a supportive arm as they left sight of the bunkhouse, holding onto the girl with a tight grip. They walked silently, her steps slow and uneven, each footstep resonating with the gravity of the situation.

She couldn’t help but wipe the trail of blood that was escaping her nose multiple times during the walk, her fingers staining a deeper shade of crimson each time. The mounting physical pain, combined with the emotional gravity had left her in a sweat of weary resignation. Yet, she remained quiet, occasionally glancing at the faces of the men escorting her, each carrying their own blend of anger and concern.

Tag list:

@shakespear-picaso-lovechild @icantdecideofthename @this-harl0t-shant-be-unalive @weird-obsessed-girl

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stranger-stardustt · 3 months

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hallo hallo! I am here to give you a writing request, because the only thing I love more than getting asks is sending them! I can’t remember if this was on the list of things you write for, but maybe some Stobin? Like them just being best friends and acting like an old married couple?

I know this isn’t really like…a lot to go off of, haha, sorry :)

i love stobin!!!! this is a lil short but i hope you enjoy the stobin scoops ahoy shenanigans with a little added Eddie because somehow he snuck in there for plot. i promise its mostly Stobin /p though!!! tysm for the ask <3

Steve’s least favorite thing about working at Scoops Ahoy was theme days. Every Saturday, arguably the busiest day of the week, there was a new sea-related theme, accompanied by a mascot and a specialty flavor or two.

That Saturday was pirate day, and Steve and Robin were in the backroom getting ready to open when they heard someone come through the employee entrance. Footsteps were joined by whistling as someone approached.

“Who do you think is our pirate?” Robin whispered, moving toward Steve. “I hope it’s a girl.”

Steve laughed. “You just want a girl so you can stare at her all shift,” he whispered back, and Robin shoved him gently.

“Not true!” Her voice was a little louder now. “I want a girl so I don’t have to deal with a bunch of gross, sweaty boys like you for hours.”

“I am not gross or sweaty!” Steve exclaimed, grabbing her by the waist. “Take it back!”

Robin giggled, squirming in his grasp. His arms were wrapped around his hips, lifting her a few inches off the ground. “Put me down, you heathen,” she hissed playfully, kicking her feet. “Come on, Steve, this isn’t fair!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” sang Steve, spinning her around. “You must now suffer the consequences of insulting the one and only Steve Harrington.”

Twisting around, Robin broke free from Steve’s embrace. She launched forward, crowding him against the counter and running her hands through his gelled-up hair. “Got you!”

A cough pulled the two of them from their bickering. They turned, freezing as their eyes landed on a new yet oddly familiar face. “Uh, sorry for interrupting,” a man said, pushing his brown curls out of his face. “I’m Eddie? I’m the stupid mascot or whatever for today.” He glanced between the two of them, like he was sizing them up. “Do you want me to leave you two alone or something?”

Robin made a retching noise, bouncing away from Steve and toward Eddie. “Please, don’t leave me alone with him,” she cried dramatically, holding out a hand. “I’m Robin, that’s Steve. We’re nothing more than platonic. I gag just thinking about it, jeez.”

“You’re so mean to me,” Steve sighed, fixing his hair and walking toward Eddie. “I’ve seen you around at Hawkins High. You deal, don’t you?”

Smiling, Eddie nodded. “Yeah.” He looked at Steve with something in his eye that the other man couldn’t quite make out. “But Wayne said I needed a real gig, so I’m doing stuff like this until I find something permanent. Let me tell you, I do a hell of a pirate voice.”

“I’m sure you do,” Robin giggled. “Your outfit is in the leftmost locker, you can change in the bathroom.”

Eddie gave a little thanks and a nod, heading out toward the bathroom to get ready. When he left, Robin elbowed Steve.

“Ouch! What?”

“He was cute,” Robin said.

Steve looked at her. “You’re a lesbian.”

“I didn’t mean for me,” she replied with an innocent whistle. “Oh, don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m looking at you like I usually look at you!” Steve exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air.

Robin grinned, teeth on display. “Exactly.” She raised a finger, pressing it gently to his nose before turning and skipping to the front. “Your face, it pains me.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

Groaning, Steve leaned against the counter. “I really do,” he said, no hostility in his words at all.

#stardust-calls #answered #steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #platonic stobin #stobin friendship #platonic with a capital p #eddie munson #stobin ficlet

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thesugarclubs-blog · 3 months

Text

Be Mine - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: speed dating, strangers to lovers, heavy petty, valentines day special

word count: 5.6k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1424350312-be-mine-hazel

vibe: “Not enough to scare you I hope,” Hazel voiced, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she studied him fingers tapping the base of her glass.

“Quite the opposite,” he declared his hand inching closer to where she had rested her free arm on the back of the sofa.

“Good, I think we’d balance each other out perfectly,” she mused, her hand meeting him halfway like she had read his mind just as she took a sip of her wine.

Masterlist

“Bucky Barnes, man you’re lookin’ good,” Sam drawled, a sly smile creeping its way across his face.

“Shut up,” Bucky mumbled, nervously running his hand over the long scruff on his cheeks.

He hunched his shoulders and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, desperately trying to make his large frame look less intimidating. Dropping his head, he stared at the toe of his boot as he scuffed it along the wooden floor of his apartment.

“Don’t know why the hell I let you talk me into this,” he added, his brows drawing down into a petulant scowl.

“‘Cause I’m your friend and you love me,” Sam replied sweetly, throwing his arm around Bucky and drawing the reluctant super soldier tightly against him. “You gotta get back out there, charm those ladies like it’s 1942.”

“Friends don’t put each other into situations like this,” Bucky grumbled, his jaw clenching tightly as he glared at Sam out of the corner of his eye.

“Quit being a toddler. You’re acting like we’re gonna fight someone. It’s not Madripoor, or Seoul, or that time in Belize…”

“I’d rather be back in Belize.”

Sam threw his head back with a cackle and slapped his hand between Bucky’s shoulders. “Whatever, big guy, come on. We don’t wanna be late.”

Bucky spent the whole subway ride with a scowl etched onto his face, deepening every time he caught a glimpse of Sam’s grin in his peripherals.

The annoying part of this was, the longer he’d been friends with the guy, the more that grin wore him down.

“Stop it.”

“I ain’t doin’ anything, man. You stop it.”

Sam’s toothy smile grew two times wider and he nudged Bucky’s shoulder as they shuffled off the train at Prince Street Station.

“This thing would be in Soho,” Bucky muttered, following Sam out onto the sidewalk.

“Hey! No more complaining. For all you know you might meet a nice girl or guy… or alien I guess, it is 2024, and then you’ll be thanking me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Sam. Sure, Sam. Just run my life for me, Sam.”

“Someone’s gotta,” Sam replied just as they stopped outside a coffee shop. Bucky eyed the big A-frame sign advertising the Valentine’s speed dating event and sucked in a breath.

Here goes nothing.

The sound in there alone was enough to have him turning tail but Sam caught his arm when he made an attempt and gave him a stern look that rang out loud and clear, stay put soldier, that's an order.

Bucky watched as a herd of women fixed their dresses and shirts, chatting politely with the people next to them and sipping on drinks as men lurked in corners, with wide eyes scanning the crowd as they downed beers in feeble attempts to find their courage. Bucky wanted to melt into the wall with them but Sam tugged him toward an empty high table and had the waitress grab them drinks before they even settled in.

An eclectic looking woman in a bright green patterned dress and thick brimmed purple glasses stepped up on the tiny, open mic stage in the corner and tapped the mic loudly to get everyone's attention. The coffee shop dulled to a murmur as she started to explain how the speed dating would work.

Her nasal whine drilled into Bucky’s brain and he downed the remains of his beer, wishing for all the world that the burn of the alcohol would actually stick this time. He was struggling to form a coherent thought so he had no idea how he’d manage to hold a half-decent conversation. As if someone had heard his desperate pleas, Miss Green Dress came unknowingly to his rescue.

“We know it can be intimidating sometimes, to answer questions from strangers,” she droned, “so make sure you pick up one of our handy yes/no paddles before the first bell rings.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up and he began to move towards the table that held the paddles but Sam’s hand on his elbow stopped him.

“Wait a second, tin man, there’s no way you’re getting out of communicating with real life people.”

"If the lady says to grab a paddle, I'm gonna grab a paddle," Bucky countered, crossing his arms over his chest and staring Sam down as if to say what are you gonna do about it?

"Just promise me you'll actually talk to these people, and I mean talk, Barnes. None of the weird little cyborg grunts I've learnt how to interpret."

On instinct, Bucky flexed and curled the fingers of his left hand. The leather of his glove creaked quietly as it stretched and Bucky sighed. One glance of the Vibranium and his dates were bound to hop out of their seats like their asses were on fire.

"If you don't want them to see, you don't have to show them," Sam said. He was speaking in his counselor voice and Bucky hated that Sam could read him like a book.

Bucky sighed softly as he looked around the room again. “They’ll either run or ask me a bunch of questions that I’ll never be able to answer.”

Sam smirked and gently nudged his friend. “You have a bit of a following, you know.”

Bucky only grumbled. “That’s what worries me.”

“I’ve seen some of those messages you get, man those people are crazy,” Sam continued, but his teasing was softened by the sympathetic look in his eyes. “Just…give it a shot and if you really need to get out of here we will, ok?”

Bucky let out a world-weary sigh. “OK.”

“Atta boy, come on, let’s go.” Sam handed him another beer and tilted his head towards the line of tables, where a plethora of women were starting to take their seats.

"Remember, if you are sitting facing the coffee bar, you'll be staying in your seats. If you're facing away, you'll be moving on the ring of the bell," the woman called out loudly, making Bucky wince as he found his seat; James Barnes printed on a little card already thanks to Sam signing them up a week earlier.

The tables were decorated for the event; pink checked table cloths and tiny pink paper hearts scattered across the top. Between him and his first partner, a petite brunette woman with thick bangs and a nose stud, sat a small vase with a single rose. Bucky eyed the tattoos peaking out from the woman's collar and sleeves and gulped, feeling way in over his head already.

"My names Cassie," she introduced herself with a sharp smile.

"Bucky," he swallowed thickly and palmed his beer bottle.

"So what are you into?" She jumped right into the questions and all Bucky could think about was the bell ringing, how soon would it happen? Could he ring it if he felt threatened? There was an astounding lack of rules happening, "Like in the bedroom?"

And boundaries.

"Uh," he looked around for Sam who was laughing with a pretty blonde girl across the room.

Bucky could feel sweat on the back of his neck as he messed with the label on his beer bottle.

“You’re not a talker, are you?” Cassie grinned.

It was tensely quiet for a moment before Bucky lifted his paddle with the “no” facing towards his partner.

“Ah, I see. The strong silent type. My kinda guy,” she purred.

Bucky jumped a mile in the air and almost threw his beer across the room as her foot began to stroke its way up his shin. He’d never been more relieved to hear a bell in his life.

Cassie blew him a kiss over her shoulder as she moved onto the next table and Bucky shot daggers at Sam across the room, his nostrils flaring as his so called friend laughed and gestured for him to turn around.

The next woman in front of him looked a little tamer, if he took her ridiculously low cut top out of the equation. His eyes dipped momentarily — he may have been an ex-assassin, but he was a hot-blooded man first — before he caught himself and met her eye with a tight-lipped smile.

"So, how many kids do you wa—"

Bucky stared at her wide-eyed and took a long pull of his beer.

"Nope. Next!"

"You're Bucky Barnes," The red head sneered before she even sat down at the table. "That's incredible, show me it."

Bucky stared at her for a moment, her green eyes predatory as they roved over his arm and down to his hand.

"Show you what?" His brows kissed in frustration.

"The vibranium arm," she leaned over on the table. "There are bets that it's not real, that the government made it up as a fear tactic." She rambled and Bucky tensed, "I mean we all know you're some kind of science experiment," she continued. "Fear mongering doesn't work when you make the poster child for it with thick thighs," the girl looked under the table and winked at Bucky.

"I..." he was uncomfortable but wasn't sure what to say to her.

"Excuse me," a sweet voice floated over the table, "you're in my seat."

Red looked up and looked incredulously at the owner of the voice before turning back to Bucky.

"I said, you're in my seat," the voice repeated, the sweetness dropped a notch.

Bucky's attention was now on the curvaceous blonde who grasped the chair from under the red head and tipped her off. "I said this is my seat, now clear off."

The downed redhead crawled to the next chair, picked up her stuff and disappeared through the cafe.

"Hi Gorgeous, my name's Hazel, pleased to meet you."

Bucky felt himself relax for the first time since he'd taken his seat.

He gave the woman a small smile and nodded in thanks for getting rid of the other woman. “I’m Bucky,” he said quietly as he eyed the now torn off label of his beer.

Hazel smiled at him, her blonde hair bobbed just above her shoulders as she flattened down the skirt of her dress. A pink number with puffy sleeves and a full skirt.

“How have your dates been so far?” Hazel asked. His eyes flicked down to the corner of her lips where they tugged upwards ever so slightly. Heat crawled up his neck as he took a pull from his beer.

“Do people not know what boundaries are anymore?” He said after a moment. Hazel stared at him before bursting into a chuckle.

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head and making her blonde bob dance around her ears. “That guy in the blue turtleneck offered me $50 to go home with him.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna kick his ass,” Bucky muttered, semi-rising from his chair, only half joking.

A light touch on his left arm stopped him and the amused twinkle in Hazel’s eyes had him smiling back at her without even realising.

“I don’t need a champion, Bucky, but I appreciate the gesture,” Hazel said, holding out her bottle of beer to clink against his own.

“Ok,” Bucky shrugged as he chimed their bottles together before taking a swig. “Let’s get started then. You wanna go first?”

Hazel scrunched up her nose and tapped her finger against her pouted lips a couple of times. Her eyes lit up before turning a little devilish and Bucky found himself eager to hear what she’d thought of to ask him.

“You know, I could really use a recommendation and you’re just the guy to ask. So…what’s your favourite brand of metal polish?”

Bucky surprised himself with the laugh that escaped him and he didn't miss the proud little smile on Hazel's face, obviously pleased that her question tickled him.

"Y'know, I'm not a fussy guy," he replied, "I'll take anythin' that'll make it shine."

"The arm or your eyes?"

"Hello, smooth talker," Bucky chuckled, "you been talkin' to all the guys like that?"

Hazel shook her head, flashing him a beaming smile. A wisp of her blonde hair fell across her eyes with the movement and Bucky itched to reach out and tuck it behind her ear, only stopping himself when Hazel leant forward, chin resting in her hand.

"Guess it's my turn again, huh?"

"What's your favorite drink?" Bucky asked her and felt himself leaning into her smile.

"Espresso Martini," she cooed.

Bucky raised his hand in the air and a waitress scooted around a table where the dates were screaming at one another, "how can I help?" She asked.

"Can you get my date an espresso martini please?" He asked and the waitress opened her mouth to explain that she may not be here by the time the drink was made. "She'll be here," Bucky nodded.

The waitress shrugged and ducked back into the chaos around her.

"Seems I've met my match," Hazel stared over at him.

Bucky smirked at her as the bell rang, holding her gaze.

"Time to swap," the next dater spoke from behind Hazel.

"Not happening," Bucky replied, his eyes never leaving hers, as Hazel responded, "He's taken."

As the waitress placed the drink beside Hazel, she shrugged to the disgruntled dater and advised her to move past. "I've bigger fish to fry," she muttered, the couple who had screamed through their date were now heckling each other from several tables apart.

"So, where were we?" Hazel asked, raising her glass in toast to Bucky.

Bucky raised his bottle leaning the neck forward to softly clink her glass, taking a swig as he watched her pink-tinted plump lips part as she brought her glass up to her mouth.

“I believe you have the floor now,” he smiled, watching her blue eyes sparkle under the soft yellow lighting.

“Okay serious question now, promise” she winked, “how are you finding the modern world?”

Bucky let out a long breath and chuckled to himself. "It definitely ain't the 40's anymore darlin'."

Blue eyes regarded him as she tilted her head to the side. "That daunting huh?"

"And more." He said giving her a lopsided smile. "It's not just the technology that's changed, ya know? It's people too. The way people treat eachother. In some ways the world is a lot more accepting and in others..." His voice trailed off.

"Like we're always fighting each other for someone else's agenda?" She finished for him.

“Exactly,” he agreed.

He leaned back in his seat and appraised her as he tilted back his bottle and swallowed a mouthful of beer. Hazel did the same, winking at him over the rim of her martini glass and he felt himself flush under her scrutiny. He liked it.

“What made you come here tonight?” He asked.

“Nancy asked me to make up numbers,” she shrugged, nodding her head towards the organiser in the green dress. “She minded my baby for me last week so I owed her one.”

“Oh?” Bucky raised his eyebrow. “What’s your baby called?”

“Trevor. He’s a total asshole but I adore him,” Hazel gushed. “He’ll sulk for days if I leave him with anyone other than Nancy.”

“Yeah,” Bucky swallowed awkwardly. “I guess kids can be funny like that.”

“Kid?” Hazel threw her head back and cackled. “Trevor’s my cat!”

"Oh...OH!" Bucky chuckled, feeling a little bashful over the misunderstanding. But then with Hazel's laugh, Bucky couldn't help the way his own grew louder.

Hazel's shoulders shook as she tapered off into a giggle and her eyes creased at the corners, lashes glistening with unshed tears. She was gorgeous, her whole personality infectious and Bucky was more than ready to throw caution to the wind, steal her away from this stupid event.

"I, uh... I like cats..." Bucky said suddenly, voice going up like it was a question, and the laughter started all over again. He hadn't felt this loose, his heart this full of something that wasn't dread or fear, in years.

"You do?" Hazel perked up and her soft smile curled to the side.

"I have one," Bucky nodded, "Alpine. Sweet little thing. Feisty too."

"Like father, like daughter, clearly." She teased, her finger rolling down the stem of her glass. "Can I meet her sometime?"

"I'd like that," Bucky smiled at her. "You look amazing in that dress by the way."

"What? This little ole thing?" she quoted. "It's fabulous dahling, I was always told 'go big or go home'. The best advice I've ever been given."

"Who told you that?" Bucky asked curiously.

"My Nan," Hazel smiled at the memory, pausing to take another sip from her glass.

“Must’ve been one wonderful woman as well,” he offered with a tender smile.

“That she was. And, thank you.” Hazel smiled back, eyes glossy.

“So Mr. Barnes, I think we’ve defeated speed-dating. Very succesfully, if I might add,” she winked at the soft laugh that slipped from Bucky’s lips.

Hazel moved her hand and rested it softly atop his and he was absolutely certain from the little twitch upwards at the corner of her lips, that she could see the flush creeping up his neck and cheeks.

“You think your partner back there would mind if we took our drinks somewhere else?” she asked pointing Sam’s way with her plush lips.

"Wouldn't care if he did." Bucky grinned, taking another swig of his beer, "what about you? Do you think Nancy is gonna flip if you leave?"

Hazel glanced over her shoulder at Nancy, too busy calming down a woman. "Nah, she's got her hands full." Those same blue eyes flickered back to him and his heart skipped a beat he was sure of it.

“Well then,” Bucky grinned, hopping up and sliding around the table to Hazel’s side because he was nothing if not a gentleman. He held out his warm hand out for her and something lit up inside him, a sparkling, soft glow in the darkness, as Hazel’s fingers curled around his.

She giggled as she stood, straightening out the skirt of her dress with her free hand and Bucky took a moment to really take her in.

“Why thank you, kind sir.”

Bucky shrugged shyly, face warm as Hazel beamed up at him. If only he couldn’t see Sam giving him two goofy thumbs up over her head.

"Okay maybe walk a little faster though," Hazel giggled when Nancy gasped from the left of the room.

The two of them made their way out onto the street in a bundle of laughs and quickened steps as Nancy yelled from the door of the shop. Hazel's cute pink dress was a mess in the wind from their scurried steps and Bucky couldn't help but laugh when he looked over at her to find her hair a mess around her beautiful face.

"Here," he angled himself in front of her, blocking her from the breeze and used both hands to push the hair from her face. "Much better," he smiled, unaware or unbothered by the proximity of their lips as she stared up at him with light dancing across her blue eyes.

"Thanks," she said, her cheeks turning red.

"Any time, beautiful" Bucky voiced as he stroked her flushed cheek tenderly with his gloved thumb.

"Now who's the smooth talker," Hazel laughed, so sweet and melodic Bucky hoped he could hear it everyday.

"Still got something," he chuckled. "Where to next?"

"Well, there's a small bar not far from here. Cozy booths we could sit side by side in... or across from each other you know, your choice." Her eyes shifted from his lips to his eyes and back, and it took every bit of willpower in him not to kiss her right there.

"You really think I'm gonna wanna sit anywhere but right next to ya?" He said, moving his hands reluctantly from her face to offer his hand once more. "Lead the way darlin'."

Hazel grinned up at him. "Do you trust me?"

He saw a twinkle of mischief in her eyes as he glanced down at her but something fluttered in his chest that made him feel like he could actually trust this woman. "and if I say yes?"

She smirked and tugged on his hand, leading him further down the street. "Then you'd make my night."

He couldn't help but laugh as they continued to walk in silence. One that didn't feel pressured or awkward. It was just the two of them enjoying each other's presence. Hazel stopped outside of a small brownstone and looked back at him.

"This doesn't look like a bar, darlin'." He raised a brow.

"That's because it's my apartment." Hazel bit her bottom lip softly as she looked up at him. "I figured if we wanted some place quiet that this might be the best spot and besides...I do need to feed Trevor."

Bucky didn't realise he could raise his eyebrow as high as he just did, blinking down at Hazel as his lips curved into a smirk.

“You’re bold,” he murmured darkly, “I like it.”

“My God, I thought you were about to run for the hills,” Hazel breathed, smacking him lightly on the arm — the left one.

“Sweetheart, the day I run from a gorgeous woman like you will be the day I need my brain fixed… again.”

Hazel’s cheeks turned a soft pink as she chuckled quietly and Bucky couldn’t help himself as his fingers found her jaw again, the pad of his thumb gently stroking the apple of her cheek.

“Last chance to back out,” she offered but Bucky shook his head.

“You promised a cat,” he grinned.

“That I did, soldier.” She unlocked the door and led him inside. Locking it behind them as she entered.

The place was cute, decorated in more color than Bucky had ever seen in his entire life. Completely out of place, the most scraggly cat he had ever laid eyes on. Trevor looked like he had gone five rounds with a wood chipper.

“He was an alley cat,” Hazel set her purse on the long teal hallway table between a hot pink vase full of fake flowers and a funky looking bowl for her keys. “Believe it or not, Trevor is in better shape than he’s ever been.”

“I’m sensing a theme,” Bucky teased, squatting before the cat and offering his hand.

“I promise I don’t make a habit of bringing home strays,” Hazel laughed and her fingers ran through Bucky’s hair as she passed. The sensation curled his toes and forced his eyes upward to where she was disappearing around the corner. Nothing but pink tulle and long gorgeous legs.

“Christ,” he muttered under his breath and almost crawled after her until he managed to gather enough of his wits about himself to clamber to his feet.

He padded after her into a small kitchen, careful to keep his steps heavy so as not to startle her with his usual light-footed gait. The orange and hot pink accents in the room should have clashed but somehow they didn’t. They were perfectly Hazel. She turned to face him, a bottle of white wine in one hand, a bottle of whiskey in the other, and a cheeky smile on her beautiful face.

Bucky nodded his head towards the whiskey and stepped further into the kitchen as she busied about, pouring them both a glass. Handing him a cut glass tumbler with a healthy measure of amber liquid inside, she raised her wine glass in a wordless toast before taking a sip. Bucky was mesmerised at the way her tongue darted out to capture the stray droplet of wine that lingered on her bottom lip.

Before he even took a sip of the whiskey warmth filled his chest. He hadn't expected to take away anything from the ridiculous spectacle that was speed dating but here he stood, bashful and anxious before a beautiful woman who was anything but those two things.

She set her wine glass down and pulled out a tiny can that had Trevor sounding off like a fire alarm as she struggled to open it. Bucky moved forward in an offer to help but her blue eyes flickered up to him in warning. Eventually she got the lid popped and fed Trevor as Bucky stood and watched her care for the mangled, scruffy looking alley cat.

"You stand out like a sore thumb in here," she teased, looking up at him again before moving around the counter and ushering him through the house.

"I'll confess I feel like one," he said as she sat across from him with her legs tucked under her.

His tongue darted out over his bottom lip, saddened that she had curled away from him. Desperate to touch all of sudden. Like a love sick puppy, touch starved and wanting.

“Not enough to scare you I hope,” Hazel voiced, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she studied him fingers tapping the base of her glass.

“Quite the opposite,” he declared his hand inching closer to where she had rested her free arm on the back of the sofa.

“Good, I think we’d balance each other out perfectly,” she mused, her hand meeting him halfway like she had read his mind just as she took a sip of her wine.

Her delicate fingers traced along the leather of his gloves and her eyes followed like she was lost in thought before she spoke again.

“You know, you don’t have to hide with me.” Her blue eyes found his once more as her fingers curled into his. “I’m not saying you *have* to take them off if you don’t want to, just wanted you to know you were, safe." She finished with a smile so tender and genuine that he thought his heart was going to burst right out of his chest.

Bucky smiled and looked down at his hands. He always kept his gloves on unless he was in his apartment or on a mission if he needed to use the arm for strength. Licking his lips, he flexed one hand. "Thank you..." he told her. It was tempting to show her, to relax the worry in his mind. But he didn't want to frighten her either.

She continued to talk, her voice soft and lilting, and Bucky found himself mesmerised by her animated features and expressive hands. A rogue strand of hair was the only thing that interrupted her monologue as it flopped insistently over her forehead. Hazel crossed her eyes endearingly and pursed her lips to blow it out of the way with a chuckle of laughter that turned into a huff as it immediately returned.

Without a second thought Bucky reached forwards and stroked it gently out of her way, tucking the blonde strand behind her ear. The feel of her warm skin against his fingertips was heavenly and then he stilled with the realisation that he’d taken off his gloves.

“There you are,” Hazel murmured, a smile of pure delight on her face as she leaned into the touch of his hand.

He can’t remember the last time he’d used his hands for such a soft gesture, for someone to see him so metaphorically naked and not be fazed in the slightest.

“Hi,” he breathed, fingers still lingering on her cheek.

“Hi, handsome,” Hazel whispered and then, “can I?”

She gestured for his other hand and Bucky nodded, letting Hazel lead as she slid her palm along the vibranuim plates of his, her thumb stroking his wrist as if she’d feel a pulse there. And then he was cupping her cheeks, metal and flesh framing her perfect face.

"Do you feel anything?" She asks him and oddly enough he had never been posed with such a question. He had to think about it.

Could he feel the softness of her skin, the warmth, the realness... or was it just his mind playing tricks on him.

"It's not a trick question?" Hazel whispered, her eyes flickering back and forth over his expression.

"I'm sort of sick of those," he leaned forward, their lips ghosting and breath tangling as he worked up the nerve to kiss her. "Questions are messy," he said.

"You know what's not?" Hazel smiled and it made all the lines around her face crinkle, "kissing."

"I feel like-" Bucky started to say that it was messy, in fact kissing was the epitome of messy but Hazel was done conversation and her lips where colliding with his before he could protest further. They were delicate as she leaned into his touch and dragged her teeth over his bottom lip sending a thousand tiny shivers rolling through him like a wave. It had been a long time since he had been kissed, and even longer since anyone had turned him into knots the way Hazel was.

Bucky sighed softly as his eyes closed. He focused on the softness of her lips, the taste of her cherry chapstick. It wasn’t long before one hand moved to rest on the side of her neck, caressing her smooth skin with his thumb.

Hazel’s lips parted in a soft gasp as Bucky let himself get lost in the kiss. He licked into her mouth, deliberate and tentative all at once. He didn’t want to get this wrong, didn’t want to fuck up the first piece of human interaction to coax out the butterflies that had been hidden, scared away and buried away for the last 80 years.

Hazel’s fingers skimmed along his jaw, scratching over the scruff of his stubble before they tangled into the fluff of hair behind his ears.

Bucky’s breath hitched and someone made a keening little sound, muffled by lips and soft breaths. It wasn’t until Hazel moved in a little closer, kissed him a little softer, that he realised it was him.

His entire body was vibrating and he never wanted to let go of this feeling, to let go of her. He wanted to be here for as long as she would let him.

His flesh hand found purchase in her hair, caressing her blond strands as their tongues danced together while he let his vibranium one travel down her neck. His metal fingers danced along her collarbone and arm as the sweet sounds of her muffled moans took over all of his senses. His hand stopped at her waist, grasping softly as he spoke into their kiss.

“Need you closer, please.” He whined.

Hazel pulled away just enough to where she could speak. “Closer how, handsome?”

He couldn’t put his feelings into words; he was so intoxicated by her, as if the whiskey had actually overpowered the serum that ran through his veins. Sliding his hands lower he cupped her ass over the yards of silky chiffon and pulled her gently towards him.

Hazel laughed, a joyful, tinkling sound, as she let him guide her into straddling his thick thighs.

“Better?” She murmured, running her nose along the length of his jaw before ghosting her lips lightly over his.

“Much,” Bucky hummed as his palms dipped under the hem of Hazel’s dress, caressing the soft skin of her thighs. “Now, sweetheart… you and your gorgeous legs just sit pretty and let me love on you.”

“Well, I know I can do that,” Hazel replied and Bucky could feel her smile, hear the quickening thud of her heart as he kissed her pillow-soft, dewy lips.

There was nothing tentative about the kiss this time, he was determined to make Hazel feel good, to draw out every breath and gasp and moan like it was the only thing that mattered.

"I like you Hazel," Bucky huffed against her lips, needy for more but wanting to play every move carefully. "You surprised me."

"Is that a good," she tensed as his fingers tickled her thigh, "thing? You sound unsure."

"Oh darlin', it's a damn good thing I'm sure."

Hazel giggled softly as she ran one hand slowly through his hair, watching as the man beneath her practically melted. “You’re a little bit like a cat, yourself, you know that?” She smiled. “You practically vibrate when I touch you.”

“How can I not when you feel so good?” He rumbled, adding an extra purr to his words just to hear that laugh of hers again.

It worked. The peal of laughter she let out had his chest blooming with a warmth he’d not felt in years. His hands left her thighs, sliding up and around her back so that he could draw her close.

Hazel fit against his chest as if she’d been made for him, humming contentedly when he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Thank you, Bucky,” Hazel murmured softly, tilting up to press a series of sweet kisses along his jaw. Bucky sighed, warmth flooding his belly.

“What for, pretty girl?”

“I know you didn’t want to be at that event but you took a chance, you let me see you.”

“Couldn’t really say no, Hazel. You had me from the moment you kicked that girl out of her seat.” Bucky chuckled, kissing her again. He couldn’t stop, didn’t *want* to stop.

“You mean *my* seat,” Hazel replied, flashing him that cheeky grin.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot #marvel one shot #marvelous #one shot #fluff #bucky #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fic

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la-fille-en-aiguilles · 2 years

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Heaven Is A Place On Earth

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

When Vecna rears his ugly head, you are quick to guess Steve’s favorite song... A/N: A spur of a moment kind of writing! Hope you guys like it.

Cinnamon. There definitely wasn’t enough cinnamon.

Frowning, you rubbed the back of your dough-covered hand over your brow. Biting your lip, you focused on the tiny letters of the recipe in front of you, your eyes running over the complicated wording for the third time.

A light knock on the front door made you throw your head back with a groan. It was hard enough to concentrate on the damn cinnamon rolls as it was, but reality just couldn’t leave well enough alone, and kept adding complications to the mix.

While Jason - your boyfriend of three months now - was a nice enough guy, always ready to crack a smile and give a compliment, his ice queen of a mother hated the mere idea of her soon-to-be-a-politician son breathing the same air as you.

You didn’t dress the right way, you didn’t have the right pedigree and your aspirations for the future sure as hell weren’t anywhere near compatible with her son’s future job - that of the President of the United States, no less.

When Jason Carver spoke, everybody listened. When Jason Carver led Hawkins High through a basketball championship, the school won. The young man could do no wrong in anyone’s eyes, rather objectively speaking… until Jason Carver started seeing Y/N Henderson.

With his involvement with the Hellfire Club, your brother Dustin made sure neither of the Henderson siblings were taken seriously by the crowd Jason normally hung out with. Not that you cared - half of those people had zero idea of who you were as a person, and more than half of them were A-level douchebags who had their brains knocked out by a ball at some point of their lives. Surprisingly enough, Jason did not care about any of their opinions - he did care about you.

At first, you thought the Ken doll simply loved a challenge. At first, you refused to take any of his looks and conversation starters seriously, calling bullshit on every single flirtatious word. But then he started coming to every single dance competition you participated in, always armed with a bouquet of flowers and a charming smile. Up to this day, you wouldn’t be able to say what exactly had caught Jason’s attention and why he kept pushing and pushing and pushing until you finally let him kiss you that one time by the Lover’s Lake when the school was celebrating basketball team’s epic win. You were relatively sure Jason was falling in love with you - while his mother was plotting your death.

Tonight was the night you were going to win her over. Jason’s family were planning a charity mixer in their rose garden that screamed money and stank of privilege, and you were going, wearing your nicest dress and bringing cinnamon rolls, Jason’s mother’s favorite.

Staring down the recipe as if it were the Mindflayer, you let your hands fall helplessly by your sides and seriously considered swinging by a bakery to buy something professionally-baked instead.

“No one will ever know”, you whispered to yourself, your palms digging into your hipbones as you chomped on the inside of your cheek.

That’s when you heard your brother’s excited voice from the corridor, going on and on about how much the person who had just arrived was going to like playing Dungeons and Dragons. What followed was a rather devastated groan. The groan you immediately recognised.

“Harrington!” you called eagerly from the kitchen, some of the weight of people’s expectations slipping off your chest.

A familiar face showed in the doorway. Steve was dressed in a simple gray t-shirt, a worn-out leather jacket and a classic pair of jeans. You recognised the look as his usual “date night” attire immediately. Whenever Steve had a night date planned with a Betty on the day you saw him, there was always a leather jacket involved.

You briefly wondered why - beside the obvious fact that his shoulders and his torso looked amazing wrapped in black leather.

“Henderson,” Steve bowed a little with a small smile. “Do I smell butter?”

“Steve!” both you heard Dustin call him from the backyard, annoyed at Harrington’s pitstop at the kitchen.

“Jesus,” Steve shook his head, his thick hair bouncing under your smiling stare. “Give me a damn moment, Henderson, will you?”

Dustin yelled something back - you could not make out what exactly, but you guessed it was rude enough from the way Harrington gritted his teeth.

He looked at you expectantly, not moving an inch, so you happily continued the conversation.

“It does smell like butter,” you said those words as if they were a post-mortem. “It is supposed to smell like cinnamon”.

Steve made a grimace, scrunching his nose at your words. Silently, he motioned with his finger to where you were standing, mixing up the dough, and you nodded, sighing.

“Alright”, Steve brushed his hair back from his eyes, finding a place beside you. He eyed the contents of the bowl with his hands on his hips. After a moment of consideration, he looked at you, his eyebrows raised questioningly. “What exactly happened here?”

That was all you needed to hear. With a groan even louder than the last one, you collapsed on top of the kitchen counter, hitting your forehead slowly against the flour-covered surface.

“Steve!” you exclaimed in desperation. “You’re supposed to be my friend, not my executioner.” You groaned once again for a good measure.

A warm chuckle sounded from somewhere above, and you prompted your chin on your hand, still bending over the kitchen counter.

“Friend?” Steve echoed, scandalised. “I’ll do you one better, Henderson - I’ll be the best damn baker Hawkins has ever seen!”

Looking around under your incredulous stare, he grabbed an apron from behind you on the rack, drowning you in the woody smell of his perfume. You watched him with wide eyes as Steve lost his leather jacket, placing it gently over the bar stool, and tied the apron on his back.

“So!” he reached over to you, wiping the flour off your forehead with his thumb. “What are we bakin’?”

You just went on staring at him, as if he had just turned into a Demogorgon.

“Cinnamon rolls,” you slowly articulated, Steve listening carefully to your instructions. “I’m invited to this mixer later today hosted by Jason’s mom, and this is my last attempt at convincing her I’m a decent human being and, most importantly, girlfriend material”.

Steve hemmed, not overly impressed with your tirade.

“Listen, Henderson,” he finally spoke, laying one of his palms flat on the dough in the bowl you’ve concocted so far. “You and I are going to make the best finger-licking cinnamon rolls that Wicked Witch of the West had ever tasted, okay? She will want to marry you herself after taking a bite. But…” Steve pressed his lips together, throwing his free hand in the air, as if trying to find the right words.

“But what?” You whispered, not believing your luck.

“Your question in this situation should be but what the hell?” He put his hand back on his hip in his usual “don’t-fuck-with-me” stance. “Not only you are slaying it as a ballet dancer in every single competition - and that includes national ones; not only you have fought - and won - a battle with demogorgons - in plural; it also sure doesn’t fucking hurt that you are one of the kindest, most selfless, intelligent and courageous people that I have ever met”, was Steve blinking? Were you blinking? You weren’t sure, simply stared at him with your jaw reaching the level of your knees. “That woman must realise you are worth so much more than her little baby boy “Mr. Hollywood” Jason Carver. It’s not that she isn’t impressed by you - she is intimidated by you, Henderson.”

For some reason, you could feel a slight pinching in your nose.

“Steve…” you barely whispered, still looking into his eyes. You never even realised they had warm specs of gold in them until now.

Harrington gave you a self-deprecating half-smile, his gaze locked with yours - as if he had just said too much, showed you a lot more than he originally intended to…

…you, however, did not have enough time to really unpack his words, your little brother rushing into the kitchen with an annoyed air to him.

“Steve, what’s taking so…?” He let out a frustrated sound, but then his eyes focused on Harrington’s apron. “What are you doing?!” Dustin all but screamed in disbelief.

It’s only when Steve stepped back from you that you realised how close you were standing to each other just minutes ago.

“Change of plans, dude,” Steve pointed a finger in Dustin’s direction. “Your sister needs help securing her future mother-in-law’s approval, and I am going to help her”.

Dustin snorted at the words. “Yeah, you mean ruin it for her”, the kid muttered under his nose, turning around and marching back into the backyard.

“I heard that!” Steve shouted after him as you giggled in your fist.

“I meant for you to!” Dustin’s voice echoed through the hallway before the sound of his steps dissipated.

“Dipshit,” Steve said, shaking his head.

After a moment of silence, he turned to face you again.

“You’re on frosting duty, Henderson. I’ll man the dough. Let’s prove these assholes wrong!”

With a million-watt smile plastered to your face the entire time, you danced around the kitchen, laughing at Harrington’s puns. A girl on the radio sang a lovey-dovey song, the kids’ voices echoing from outside making the world all around you come alive with vibrant colours.

Days after the mixer - which did not buy the “Wicked Witch’s of the West” approval in the slightest - the house still smelled like cinnamon. And all the memories it brought back made you smile each and every time.

—

A trembling breath left your mouth as you slammed the phone back in its place on your bedside table. You couldn’t allow yourself to cry - you were still wearing the Black Swan make up from the performance earlier, and if there were tears, the black circles around your eyes would follow, leaving you looking like a panda.

But man did you want to cry. And also scream. And maybe hit Jason on the head with something heavy.

Tonight was a big night for you. Your entire future depended on tonight. Three professors from next year’s Juilliard School hiring committee came down to Hawkins, out of all places, to see you. No matter how the night was going to turn out, you needed all the support you could get at the end of the performance. While you were planning to just grab the usual milkshake with Dusty and Mom and Jason at Benny’s Burger, the former two had a different idea in mind. It turned out they had set up a backyard celebration, with Mr. Wheeler manning the BBQ, Nancy and Robin having decorated the entire space with golden lights, and Dustin and the boys having mixed fruit punch and stocked up on chips and popsicles. Your backyard has turned into something warm and beautiful, so beautiful in fact, it almost seemed like the place did not belong in Hawkins. Almost like it was too good to be true.

Fittingly enough, while the night was a smashing success - a man named Bailey congratulated you on the show and expressed his hopes of seeing you as a part of his class next year - it got overshadowed by the fact that Jason never showed. He did not show to the performance, and wasn’t in the crowd shouting “Surprise!” when your Mom led you to the backyard - “to help her fetch some wood for the chimney".

Everything was perfect - except for Jason being nowhere to be seen. Things went awry from there, when Robin took you to a side and mentioned that she saw him picking up a movie at the store earlier today, his arm thrown casually over Chrissy’s shoulders.

That asshole did not even have the decency to pick up the fucking phone and offer an explanation. Although the way your relationship with Jason had been for a last couple of weeks there, you weren’t sure any explanation was needed at all.

Taking a deep breath, you blinked a couple of times. It was fine. You were fine. You weren’t going to let Jason “Mr. fucking Hollywood” Carver ruin your huge win tonight.

Tonight, you were going to celebrate with the real ones - the people who really cared.

As you stepped back into the backyard, you felt the hot early autumn air envelop you in its embrace. Some people were chatting in groups, the sound of laughter echoing and bouncing off trees and rose bushes all around. Three or four couples were swaying to the music blasting through the big speakers the boys hauled over from a mystery place (you suspected these belonged to Eddie, who was now chatting with Robin by the punch stand).

You almost felt happy. Almost.

“Shit,” Dustin commented, seeing you emerge from the house. “The shithead isn’t coming”.

Both Mike and Lucas clicked their tongues, looking in your direction. Nancy bit her lip.

Steve had almost choked on his drink, spinning around to look at you, too, as he realised they were talking about you.

“What’s going on?” His face immediately grew serious as he noticed your glossed-over eyes in the soft glow of the lights.

“Jason,” Nancy explained. “She really wanted him to be here, but he never showed. And Robin saw him with Chrissy…”

Nancy’s speech was interrupted by Dustin’s exasperated exclamation.

“Steve, what are you…? Where are you going?!”

Forcing Dustin to take his drink, Steve brushed his hair back and started out in your direction.

You saw him approaching, and the sight made a small smile bloom on your lips.

He was wearing a khaki shirt this time - and the same old “date night” leather jacket.

When he was within a hearing distance, you smiled wider.

“Harrington”, you greeted him.

“Henderson”, he echoed, stopping right in front of you. “Where were you hiding? I was looking for you”.

You let out a confused laugh, “Oh?”

“You were amazing tonight. I mean, really, really, really amazing,” you chuckled softly at his words, cocking your head to a side. “But I bet you won’t be as good spinning on that slippery grass with a somewhat gracious dancing partner”, he bowed his head a little bit, stretching his hand to you.

You narrowed your eyes, excitement rising in your chest.

“Are you challenging me, Harrington?” You stared at him in mocked disbelief, your heartbeat quickening for some reason.

“Are you afraid you’re gonna lose, Henderson?” Steve winked at you, not taking back his hand.

With a delighted laugh, you took it, and immediately felt him squeeze your palm lightly as he led you to the makeshift dancefloor.

Once the two of your were right in the middle of it, Steve wrapped his hands around your waist, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. Everything about Harrington emanated warmth and comfort - with your own hands around his neck, you felt a wave of happiness smashing your ribcage on the inside. Steve gazed you in the eyes, and hesitantly brought one of his hands to your elbow, caressing it slowly and making you unclasp his hold on him. Intertwining your fingers, he pushed you softly to move with him and follow his steps.

Everything in the world felt right all of the sudden; illuminated. The stars winked at you from above as Steve pressed his cheek against your temple, softly murmuring the lyrics of the song to you:

Oh, baby, do you know what that’s worth? Oh, heaven is a place on Earth.

As the rhythm of the song picked up, Steve made you spin around on your tiptoes, dipped you so low, your head almost touched the grass, and, finally, wrapped his hands around your hips and lifted you up into the sky, with your arms wide open.

Everyone around was applauding by then, wooing at you two in approval. You thought you even heard Mike whistle.

When Steve carefully lowered you back onto the ground, both of you were smiling; you just couldn’t look away from his moonlit eyes, the specs of gold swirling in deep green, as if reaching out for you.

“Well damn, Henderson. Colour me a loser”, he whispered.

“Thanks for letting me win, Harrington,” you whispered back, as you kept looking at him, unblinking. And before you could utter anything you’d regret, come morning, you squeezed his hands one last time before taking off in Nancy’s direction, your cheeks rose and burning.

—

“Dustin!” you screamed from downstairs, anger - but mostly fear - ringing in each sound. “Dustin, what the hell is going on? It’s midnight! Where are you going at this hour? You just got back!”

Your stomach dropped as you saw Dustin speed down the stairs with his backpack heavily packed, a flashlight and a talkie-walkie.

Some shit was going down again. You didn’t like that. You didn’t like that at all.

“No time to explain, Y/N. Come on, let’s go, let’s go!!”

Swinging the door wide open, Dustin hurried to Steve’s car, already parked outside.

Huffing in frustration, you grabbed your Yankees coat from the rack and hurried outside, slamming the door shut behind you.

Noticing that Dustin had climbed in the front seat, you jumped in the back, your door barely closed before Steve slammed the pedal to the metal.

“Jesus!” You yelped, pushing forward so you could see both Dustin and Steve. “What the hell is going on?!”

“That bitch of a monster is after Max. Vecna is after Max,” Steve enunciated, not taking his eyes off the road, his voice like a drum. “You should have seen how she collapsed in the cemetery,” his voice cracked. “Dustin, do you have the walkman? We’ll need all the battery power we can get…”

Your eyes grew wide with each single word, until you couldn’t take it no more.

“Hold on for a minute! Vecna? As in D&D? And what the fuck you were doing in the cemetery?” The more you tried to unwrap Steve’s monologue, the more panicked your voice grew.

Dustin turned to face you, his eyes sad and honest.

“There is a killer monster on the loose, sis. Chrissy’s death was his doing. He puts some sort of spell on his victims, lulls them into a trance and ends them. The only way to break through the curse is music, aka the victim’s favorite song. Our Max is next on his killing spree list, and we need to keep her sane and with us until we figure out how to decimate the asshole. That’s our plan. Sounds good?”

Dustin thought that smiling at you would make it all better.

You stared at him with your jaw slack, wheels turning in your head.

“For how long has this been going on?” You said, still trying to put the pieces of puzzle together.

“Two weeks, give or take,” Steve was the one to answer this time as he took a right turn to the Wheelers’ household. “Looks like Max is the first one to beat the normal victim’s schedule. We’re not sure if Vecna’s going to try again or… shit”, Steve cursed, rubbing his upper lip with a back of his hand.

In the rearview mirror, you saw blood leave Dustin’s face. His eyes popped as his skin nearly turned transparent.

Steve’s nose was bleeding.

“What’s happening?” You nearly screamed, chills running down your spine, almost causing you pain. “Dustin, what’s…?”

“Shit, Steve!” Dustin’s voice boomed in the confines of the car. “What the hell, dude, why didn’t you say anything?! Shit, shit, shit!!” Your little brother just kept hitting the front panel of the car, until he threw the door wide open, and rushed to Steve’s side.

Your insides froze. Something really, really bad was going on.

You jumped from the car on Steve’s side in the seconds that followed, just when Harrington decided to step out as well.

Only he never made it to a standing position. Crashing on the ground, his knees scraping against the asphalt, Steve heaved a breath, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Shit!!!” Dustin screamed in pure, animalistic fear. “Y/N, get the walkman! Get it right now!”

Still not fully understanding what was happening, you rushed back to the car, to Dustin’s backpack and pulled the music player with earphones from the main pocket. When you made it back to the boys, Steve was convulsing on his knees, the golden specs of his eyes nowhere to be seen.

The sight was almost enough for you to lose your composure. But you couldn’t.

Steve had saved you so many times. Now it was your turn to save him.

When Dustin smashed the play button on the walkman, nothing happened. No music seeped through the earphones. Outright panicking now, Dustin opened the player.

It was empty inside.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!!!!” Within seconds, Dustin was back on his feet, rushing back to the car, leaving you with Steve.

“Mike! Lucas! Nancy! Help!!! Do you copy??? HELP!!!!”

Your throat grew tight as you fell on your knees in front of Steve. There had to be something you could do. Anything at all.

The only way to break through the curse is music, Dustin’s voice echoed in your head, aka the victim’s favorite song.

Shaking, you grabbed Steve by the wrists. Forcing yourself to stare in the whites of Steven’s eyes, you fought back tears, opening your mouth.

Oh, baby, do you know what that’s worth? Oh, heaven is a place on Earth.

Steve Harrington has been in his fair share of shitty situations. Take the showdown with Billy at the Byers’ place, for example. His face remained swollen for months; at some point he wasn’t even sure he was going to be able to eat anything solid again.

But this, right now was beating all kinds of shitty situations Steve had ever been in. This fucking time was absolutely taking the gold in the competition.

It all started a week ago - nose bleeds, head-splitting migraine. Then he would space out for hours on end, always ending up in front of the fucking grandpa clock. He would also hear that asshole Vecna call his name… Then there was the image of his Dad, eyes white, skin rotten, telling him he will never be a real man. He couldn’t protect his mother from the thief when he plunged a knife in her stomach in their living room - he is a weak excuse for a man and will always be.

But the worst of it was seeing Y/N - with the same look as his Dad, dead, decomposing look - shouting obscenities at him, telling him he will end up failing again, end up with Dustin’s blood on his hands…

This version of Y/N almost had him this time. Her crumbling fingers were wrapped around his throat, his monster-looking Dad and his dead Mom gazing at him with filthy smiles on their faces from behind her. Tears were streaming down Steve’s face as he closed his eyes, too tired of fighting. Maybe they were right. Just how many more times would he be able to save the kids? How many times before he holds their breathless bodies in his hands? And it will be all his fault. Because he wouldn’t have been strong enough.

You are a weak excuse for a man, boy! his father hissed in his ear. Steve’s struggles grew weaker. His father stepped closer to him, his hand hanging dangerously over his head, when…

Oh, baby, do you know what that’s worth? Oh, heaven is a place on Earth.

Steve’s eyes flew open as he hit the rotting version of Y/N square between her eyes, the sight making him shudder.

This isn’t her, he told himself. This isn’t my Y/N.

Barely breathing, hissing and coughing, Steve pushed his father out of the way, stumbling as he sped ahead, without direction, without purpose.

When I feel alone, I reach for you, and you bring me home.

With black circles blocking his vision, Steve forced himself to look around, find something to cling to. That’s when he saw it - behind the veil of the red smoke, a tiny opening, a thin crack, with moonlight slipping through. That’s from where your voice was coming, and that was all he needed to know.

When I’m lost at sea, I hear your voice, and it carries me.

It felt like his lungs were on fire; his skin burned blue, whenever it made contact with the red smoke. He could hear Vecna growling behind his back, too damn close for his liking. I’m coming, Henderson. I’m coming.

In this world we’re just beginning To understand the miracle of living.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you cupped Steve’s face in your shaking hands. Fucking hell, you were a horrible singer; if anything, it would persuade Steve to stay in the fucking Upside Down, just to get away from the sounds you were making. But you owed him to try. You owed yourself to try. There was no way you were going to let fucking Vecna take the man you loved from you.

You could hear the door slam behind you, a roar of quick steps making their way to Steve’s car, what sounded like Nancy and Robin screaming in distress. You bit hard on your bottom lip, until it bled, caressing Steve’s cheeks with your thumbs, tears falling in buckets now.

Baby I was afraid before But I’m not afraid anymore.

All of the sudden, you could see the specs of gold shining their light on you. Steve was back with you. Steve was back in your arms.

The world stopped. Time stopped. Your heart clenched in a painful pause.

“Harrington!” You sobbed, your hands still caressing Steve’s jaw.

He didn’t echo your name, like he always did. Slipping his hands under the heavy fall of your hair, Steve slammed his lips against yours instead.

Your whole body responded immediately. Tears still rolling down your cheeks, you clang to him with all you had, your fingers buried in his hair, your lips moving roughly and in sync with his. You felt his strong hands wrap around you and press you even closer to him, every single moment that led to this, led to tonight - melting on your lips. Steve tasted like life. He tasted like unprecedented happiness.

Like a million loving thoughts, touches, looks and words that you shared all condensed into one single flavor.

Steve Harrington tasted like heaven.

Oh, baby, do you know what that’s worth? Oh, heaven is a place on Earth.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x female reader

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humbuginmybones · 2 months

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Another chapter!!!

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝔀𝓸: "𝓢𝓱𝓮'𝓼 𝓐 𝓢𝓲𝓵𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓛𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰..."

You couldn't help but question if it was a polite or stupid move to not approach Alex Turner. You had been prone to overthinking, and ever since you got in the cab to go home, your mind had been cracked with a mental, endless pros and cons list from that one action. To think that you got so close to meeting a star, hell, even meeting your favorite band.

But on the other hand... That was also a strong and good thing of you to not approach them. You had enjoyed your night on your own, and that was all that mattered - The night had been a net positive.

The next few days went by very nicely - You had a lovely job at this cute little book shop in High Green, and had a handful of coworkers who were just the sweetest. There was Henry, who had worked there the longest, and you were convinced that he had read every book they stocked in the store. His parents were from Wales, and were the sweetest people ever, they had even invited you over for tea a few times. Then there was Sahari, a wonderful young woman of Indian descent, and she made the best tea! She even paired certain teas with classic novels, which added an extra special touch to your store in particular. And then there was Josi, a non-binary person of African descent, and they did the best makeup, you two loved sending each other pictures and videos of your individual looks. Josi was also awesome at pushing you out of your comfort zone without ever overstepping boundaries. These friendships grounded you, and we're some of the best people you knew. You were so lucky to have them. The four of you had a book club, and loved analyzing books. Meetings were usually hosted on slow days at the shop. The job was good and sustained you, and the friendships always lit up your days. These three always made you feel comfortable and secure.

Josi said they'd close down the shop for tonight, so you left thirty minutes early. You treated to yourself to the local cinema, the kind that re-ran old movies all the time. This weekend, they were showing a re-run of Mean Streets.

It was a good way to start your weekend. The film ended late, and had a small crowd. Throwing your jacket on, you exited the cinema and started walking home. Yes, it was nighttime, but your home was less than a mile away, you were a fast walker, and had pepper spray and a switchblade - This wasn't the first time you had walked this path, thankfully. There was another break in the rain, the weather had been letting up since an exceptionally rainy Tuesday night.

You turned a corner, and... You noticed a figure... The figure got closer to you, trying to talk... Maybe you recognized the voice, the outline?

A man got a lot closer to you, and through the darkness, he looked a hell of a lot like Alex Turner - Or maybe you were just imagining things, since the subject of this man has occupied so much of the space in your mind. Who the hell in the world would be walking around at this hour? This was a sleepier side of town, and... Wait, was that man wearing sunglasses... At night?

The man lit up a cigarette, and the slight light from the butt finally illuminated his face.

He's either the man you've hyper-fixated on, or... The world's greatest doppelganger.

Oh fuck me - Fate really does exist. Alex Turner thought to himself. He asked himself what to do - He would sound creepy as fuck if he said this was the third time he had laid eyes on you. But he knew that he had fumbled his chance last time, and swore to himself that he wouldn't let that happen again. He asked himself if he should open up with a cheesy pick-up line, or to act normal, or... His options flooded his hand, but you would walk by at any moment, so he simply muttered to you: "Hi."

Goddamn. You couldn't help but think. "Hello." You responded, finally stopping.

This was Alex's chance - What does he say...?

"It's nice to see a lovely lady like you tonight." All he could think was how grateful he was that he didn't slip up or mess up his words.

You heard that deep Sheffield accent - And some blood rushed to your cheeks, finally adding warmth to that area after the wind nipping at your cheeks your whole walk home. Would you offer a name? All three of your closest friends had your location... And you were polite.

"Thank you, how are you?" You responded curtly. You swallowed and finally admitted what was stuck on your mind.

"Oh my God, you look like Alex Turner! Sorry for being so blunt."

Holy shit, she talked back - This is really happening. Alex kept his cool demeanor, and responded quite quickly. "Hey there. You caught me, yes I'm Alex Turner."

Almost all your brain cells shut off. You started talking without thinking of the consequences, you were that starstruck.

"Holy shit, Alex Turner - I'm... Quite the fan. I really hope this doesn't bother you, but may I have an autograph, or a picture? It's alright if you decline."

He's surprised by how chill you seem to be taking this whole situation. He feels relieved, he hates it when he gets people freaking out and acting weird. He takes a quick drag of his cigarette, and smiles softly.

"Always nice to meet a fan, what is your name if I may ask?"

"Y/N." You two shake hands.

He shakes your hand, and nods, his eyes wandering to your body a bit, before he realizes what he is doing and smiles warmly at you.

"So uh, what are you doing here out this late? Just walking home?"

"Ah, you've got me. Can we take a pic and get an autograph, if it's not too much?"

He smiles warmly, thinking it was kind of cute that you wanted these things from him.

"Sure, sure. I always like to interact with my fans as much as possible."

"Thank you!" You two get the pic and autograph done.

He's surprised that you're not asking more of him, he's gotten too used to weird fans. He laughs a bit.

"That was surprisingly quick and easy! You seem very laid back."

"Thank you!" You smile so brightly.

He notices that beautiful smile of yours, your beautiful eyes, and he couldn't help but keep staring. There was something about you that kept him drawn in.

"Well, you're welcome. I guess I could ask you a question in return?"

You nod eagerly.

He laughs a bit, finding it cute how star struck you seemed.

"What's your opinion on my solo project The Submarine EP, if you've heard of it?"

Why the fuck did I ask that? Alex thought yo himself. Does your brain short-circuit the second you see a pretty girl?

He cleared his throat and tried to play it cool.

"Yes, it was beautiful, and Submarine is one of my favorite films." You responded quickly.

His eyes widen, and he looks extremely pleased. He breathed an extreme sigh of relief, so happy that he didn't come off as awkward.

"So you've not only heard it, but you've seen the movie it was for too. That's quite a surprise. Not many people know it's... There, you have excellent taste, if I may say."

"Wow, thank you sir." You responded.

He laughs again, you seem quite respectful.

"No need to call me sir, just call me Alex. Everyone does."

"Well, thank you, Alex. It was very nice to meet you."

He smiles warmly at you, he's enjoying your presence more than you'd know.

"Well, it was just as nice to meet you. I'm glad to see that I have a fan who isn't going to stalk me or be crazy over me."

"Damn, that must be intense and scary..." You said quietly.

He laughs quietly at that, you're not wrong.

"It's why I'm happy to be here now, though I'll be leaving in a few weeks to record." He smiled then continued.

"Yes, the US is quite intense, a lot more fans there than here, and they're so... extreme. I've had people come to my house in America and demand things from me that I am not willing to give. I'm really just happy you're not like that."

"Oh, of course! So sorry to hear that!"

He shrugs, it's just the nature of being famous.

"I signed up for this, it's no worries. But, I am really glad that you're not as extreme as some of my other fans. I think we can be friends if you'd like? You seem quite friendly and genuine."

"You mean it?!" You smile in glee.

He laughs a bit, quite surprised by this reaction, but also amused by it.

"Of course, you seem like a friend-worthy individual!"

"Thank you! Would you like my number?"

His eyes light up briefly, yes please!

"I would, would you like mine in return?"

"Please. What an honor."

He smiles widely, and pulls out a silver sharpie he keeps in his back pocket, he writes his number down and hands you the sticky note.

"You can contact me anytime, and I'm happy to reply as long as I am not busy with things."

"Thank you... Well... I have a celebrity's number... Thanks!" You chuckle cutely.

Alex has to resist the urge to put his hands on his cheeks at how cute she is, she truly is adorable.

"Just remember what I said, you can call me anytime. Maybe we could meet again, hang out as friends maybe?"

"Sure. I won't keep you too long, but text me the details when you get a chance!" You smile cutely and courteously.

He smiles back warmly, you're one of the least crazy fans he's met. It's quite refreshing.

"I most certainly will, I've really enjoyed this small interaction, I want you to keep in touch."

"Thanks, thanks, great to hear!"

"Talk to you soon!"

You smile and the two of you part.

Alex nods and smiles again, his eyes drifting over to your hips, he can't help it, and he blushes a bit. He's very interested in your body. As you separate he's left blushing, and he decides to text you.

"Have a good night, we will definitely keep in touch."

You smiled as you went back to your home, and the rain started up again. You snuggled up in your blankets and flicked on the heater as the warm lights in your room gave you this angelic glow - A supernatural beauty, which was exactly what Alex thought you were, even if you didn't know that yet. You texted Alex again, and then texted your group chat the picture of you and Alex, and tons of caps and exclamation marks were exchanged between the four of you. Alex texted you 'Goodnight', and you finally put your phone away to charge, and drifted off to a land of dreams... And it seemed the future would give you opportunities to pursue new dreams - That could become reality.

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tf2-oneshots · 10 months

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perhaps this is a little niche, but could i please get a one shot where scout takes pauling over to his family’s house just to hang out and pauling meets his mom and has a gay awakening? thinking it could be a little humorous. thank you in advance!

Lesbian Pauling for the win!!

Warnings: none!

Rating: General

“Okay, heads up, my brother Robbie is a bit of an asshole. Don’t leave your purse alone with him. Oh, and Parker is a mega vegan. Like, the kind who guilt trips you everyday.” Scout warns Miss Pauling as they drive to his house. The two had taken a long break from one another after she gave a violent ‘No’ to Scout asking her out for the 80th time.

It was awkward, hell, painful even for Scout to hear her voice for contracts. The voice that, in a fit of frustration, very clearly pointed out every flaw in him. From the surface of his mediocre appearance to the depths of his narcissism, Pauling had to be absolutely sure that Scout would finally stop hitting on her. A rant she apologized for a few days later before they agreed to keep anything between them strictly professional for the time being.

Its a few months later now, and the two carefully built a friendship. No ulterior motives, no briefcase alarms being set off for dates, just two people existing as friends. It was a massive relief on both of their ends. Scout was finally able to meet a girl who was head over heels for him, which was evident by the photographs filling his wallet. For Pauling, she was able to hold a real conversation with the man without fighting to not sound too friendly.

“Oh, I’m well aware. I did an extensive background check on your family before you were hired. You have a third cousin in Nantes.” Scout, having no idea where that is, simply nods and takes out his wallet to admire his beautiful girlfriend.

Pauling parks along the curb seeing how crowded the driveway was. Cars ranging from neat business class vehicles to a sunflower oil hippie van to a beater on its last legs fill the pavement and pour into the road. Walking towards the house, neither of them have a chance to knock on the door before it swings wide open.

“Germy’s home!!” Robbie loudly announces with his younger brother, Hunter, jumping onto his back. While the two move aside to wrestle by the stairs, Parker steps into view. His wool sweater, up-cycled jeans, and sandals are the same from when Pauling did her background check. As in, stalking every family member to insure that no one would cause any trouble if Scout was hired.

“Well, you must be Miss Pauling. Tell me, do you think animals are—“ Before Parker can finish, Hunter is thrown onto him. The two crash to the floor, one laughing and the other groaning in pain. It was Robbie who threw Hunter, and now he looks at them in his tattered hoodie and stained jeans.

“Pauling? The girl that said she wouldn’t date you ever? Never ever? Not even if you were dead? That Pauling?” An obnoxious laugh. Scout grumbles, shoving past his older brother as they walk into the house. He’s immediately met with Robbie stealing his hat and grinding a knuckle into his head.

“Lighten up, loser! I’m just messing around. You’ve always been a sensitive little baby.” Ever since Scout was added to the massive family, he was known as the crybaby. Always ready to throw a tantrum and run into mommy’s arms because, as the baby, he should be comforted the most.

“Ma! Robbie’s bullying me again!” Scout bolts towards the kitchen, ready to play his role. The youngest sibling who can do no wrong and is always doted on. While Robbie runs after him, Pauling is guided to the living room where the remaining siblings are. Each one she recognizes in an instant.

Lawrence sits in a neat suit; the one he typically wears for out of office parties or when he wins a lawsuit and wants to celebrate. Dean is next to him in ironed slacks; the ones he wore during the most recent school faculty picture day. The last brother, Carter, was sketching a coastline using a Smooth Art brand pen to ink the graphite. Some of the majorly useless information she had gathered, but Admin wanted every detail documented.

“Ow, ow, ow!” And here comes Robbie, ear pinched between two vermillion almond nails. Next to him was Scout, tucked against his mother with a pout on his face. Pauling can even see fake tears. That’s when she gets a look at Scout’s mother. Her eyes go wide, shocked to see such a gorgeous woman.

Seeing that Spy’s relationship with her resulted in Scout, Pauling didn’t have to divulge into her personal life as intently as Scout’s siblings. Everything had already been done by Spy, neatly documented with the name Caroline printed onto the file.

“Robert Bennick, apologize for being rude in front of our guest.” Caroline orders, head turning to kiss Scout’s forehead. He had bent down for her to do so, which also allowed Caroline to brush his hair. A red kiss mark was left on Scout, and Pauling desperately wishes she was the one getting kissed right now.

Over the years, Miss Pauling assumed herself to be a non-romantic person. She was never one to seek out a love interest even as far back as her childhood. Head always stuck in a book or admiring pretty ladies in science magazines, which was probably an indicator back then, her love life was simply nonexistent. Something she was content with until this very moment.

Caroline has an hourglass figure beneath her low cut red dress. Her red lips are plump, perfectly kissable as they shine from the living room light. Hooded brown eyes with shaped eyebrows give Robbie a disappointing look as he mutters out an apology. Her manicured nails finally let go of his aching ear.

“Very good. I swear, you boys always find a reason to tease my little Slugger.” Cue seven faces of surprise and shock at the audacity of the statement. None vocalized their disagreement, however. Not when their poor, helpless little brother was still being coddled by Ma.

“Oh! You must be Miss Pauling. You can call me Caroline. I’m so glad you and my baby patched things up.” She approaches and drags Pauling into a tight hug. Her glasses are pushes askew from the squish, and Pauling is struggling to form words. The smell of lavender perfume fills her nose.

“Haha, um, I-I—oh, I forgot something—my phone! I forgot my phone in the car!” Freeing herself from the hug, she hopes that the sweat on her forehead isn’t too visible before running out of the house. As Pauling bolts to the car, Scout is quick to catch up with her.

“Dude, why’d you run? You never forget your phone.” Said item was currently tucked into the front of black purse held in her hands. Scout rubs the back of his neck, afraid that the chaos of his home scared off his friend. Sure, they’re a messy little cluster, but they all love each other!

“I ran cause-cause your mom-your mom’s pretty—I mean hot—I mean pretty hot!” Okay, maybe she should stop talking! Pauling really needs to shut up right now. She puts a hand in her hair to push the messy bangs out of her face.

“What?! Oh, my god! That’s my mom, dude! What the heck?!” Scout stands in horror. How could she say that? He’ll admit, growing up, he got the plenty of annoying milf comments about his mom. Enough to make him break noses and never bring guy friends over for years.

“I don’t know what happened! I just—I got all warm and sweaty, and she smells so nice!” Did she mention how soft her skin was? Those gentle hands had caressed her arm when they hugged. In her effort to explain the sudden infliction, it made Scout cover his ears.

“Lalala! Not listening! That’s my Ma! Not listening!” Scout groans, sinking to the curb. God, why does this always happen? Maybe Scout needs to just never invite anyone over to his Ma’s house again. Might be the only way to keep everyone from trying to date his mom!

“Sorry. Uh, can we go back inside?” A nervous chuckle. Pauling fixes her hair, trying not to look like she just had a gay awakening. Maybe she can sneak another hug from Caroline.

“Fine, but don’t hit on my mom.” Like that can stop Pauling. She has the house’s phone number, address, and Caroline’s work schedule. She can call her any day of the week to set up a date. Hell, Pauling will do it the second she gets home!

I love women -H

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 requests #tf2 scout #scout’s ma #miss pauling #tf2 miss pauling #what do you call their ship #doing your mom?#yeah #doing your mom #scout bros

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takingastroll · 1 year

Text

How do you get to JFK?

My take on how this airport scene is going to go. Read on AO3.

As her parents bicker about their delayed flight ahead of her, she feels her eyes being drawn to the rapid movement of a crumpled black suit moving briskly through the crowd below the walkway. Midge falls behind as she follows the figure trying to get a better look, It can’t be. It’s been a month since she last saw him, since he had yelled at her about tanking her career. Though it was a thoroughly embarrassing dressing down, she can now admit she needed it.

The sight of his teary eyes as he told her that she would break his fucking heart had lit a fire within her and she had been working and hustling like a madman ever since. She’d still been working at the Wolford; it was a stage where she was free to speak her truth and people came to see her, but she was also paying her dues like every other comic trying to make it. Working shitty gigs surrounded by male comics and asshole bookers who just didn’t get it. And by some mad stroke of luck of Ford himself seeing her act at the Wolford and Susie’s hard work, she was joining the writing team at the Gordon Ford show come next week. Without his kick up the ass she wouldn’t have this, she’d still be hiding. The problem was that he had disappeared after Carnegie so she couldn’t even thank him. She’d heard no word of gigs, or tv appearances, he wasn’t even in the press all that much, besides the reviews of the Carnegie performance and a couple mentions of arrests. She had hoped that he would have sought her out by now, maybe even called asking for her to bail him out - and god did it hurt that he hadn’t.

Fate however, as it is wont to do when it concerns them, deemed it necessary to intervene because how else do you explain both she and Lenny being at JFK on the same day at the same time? She reckons it’s her turn for a sneak attack, she can’t let this opportunity pass her by not knowing when she’ll catch him next. “Hey I’ll catch up with you at the gate, I’m going to go ask the information desk for an update on our flight.” She calls to her parents, turning on her heel and heading towards the stairs after him. God, why does he always walk so fast? She's talented in heels but even she has her limits. She sees him head for the tunnel and decides to try and cut him off by entering from the side nearer to her. When she gets there she looks to the right, spotting him emerging into the corridor. He looks a bit out of it, dark bags under his eyes, his suit wrinkled like he slept in it. She notices he’s wearing the same tie as he did in Miami. Does he only own like three ties? One of them is still at her apartment so maybe two now.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this” she calls out and watches in amusement as his head whips round to find her and his eyes blow wide a little at the unexpected sight of her.

“The universe seems to keep throwing us together. Guess that’s what happens when you don’t call..” she trails off a little accusatory as she walks up slowly to him. She stops a few feet away, suddenly unsure of an appropriate distance.

“Midge? What are you doing here?”

“Headed to a funeral in Oklahoma with my parents.” Waving her hand as she speaks

“Oh shit, I’m sorry”, tilting his head in concern.

“It’s okay, thank you, it's a distant family on my mothers side.”

He nods at that. “Oh Hey congratulations on booking the Ford gig by the way, you’ll be running the place in no time” he says, so surely that even she believes it a little. “Hell, play your cards right, you might even become his in-house comic.” Wagging his finger at her with a smirk.

“Yeah maybe” she smiles, feeling suddenly shy under his praise.“It feels good to be working again. Plus it comes with the added bonus of not breaking your heart.”

He smirks up at that and tilts his head slightly, in a way that is so Lenny, “Ah yes thank you for that. Us Jewish men don’t have the best track record when it comes to heart conditions so we need all the help we can get.”

She lets out a chuckle, before getting serious, “Really Lenny, thank you for what you said at Carnegie. You were right, I was hiding, I was afraid of getting burned again. I’m sorry that I turned down the Bennett gig, and I’m sorry for any damage it caused on your end sticking your neck out for me like that. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.” She can feel herself starting to ramble but she needs to get this out “I wasn’t thinking, that’s the truth of it. I thought I had missed my shot with getting kicked off Shy's tour and I just wanted a steady gig, one that paid, one I didn’t have to censor myself for. I thought I was being smart, protecting myself, but you were right. I was giving up. I could no longer see myself making it big anymore, I thought, this is all I get” gesturing her hands to the side and letting them fall to her side.

Lenny pauses, and smirks, “And now?”

She smiles at him softly “Now I can see it again, the vision I had when I started this mad career choice. I can see myself headlining the Copa, wearing a beaded white cocktail dress. I can see me on the stage of Carnegie, pink dress this time.”

Lenny snorts at her inclusion of what she’s wearing in her fantasies.

“You’ll get there Midge, you’re destined for it, you’re just too damn good, sometimes I forget that you’ve only been at this for a couple years.”

Midge feels herself tearing up a little at his words

“I’m sorry I yelled by the way, got a little carried away.” he adds.

Midge shifts awkwardly, unsure of what to say to that. Their silence is broken by the laughter of a passing couple, as the voice over the tannoy announces the next flight to board.

“So, you heading out of town for some gigs?” Taking note of the bag clutched under his arm.

Lenny scratches his ear a little nervously, a look she hasn’t seen on him before “Er I’m actually moving out of town for a little while, to LA.”

“Oh-” she breathes, a silence passing between them as she lets the news sink in, her brow scrunching in confusion. “How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure” Lenny admits, almost sheepishly. Another drawn out silence passes between them.

“Wait so you were just going to leave without saying goodbye?” That comes out shakier then she intended.

“Midge-”

“You could have called for Christ’s sake”

He doesn’t have an answer to that.

“So that’s it? That's all we get? One incredible night and a fight on the stage of Carnegie Hall?”

Midge feels like the ground is opening up beneath her, “Tell me, have I been reading things wrong?” Gesturing her hand between them. Lenny takes a step towards her, shaking his head. “This feels like the goddamn Sadie Hawkins dance all over again.” She mutters, more to herself than him.

She looks back up at him, stepping into his space “That night we shared felt like it was a long time coming. It felt like it might have been the start of something. Was I wrong?” her voice rising.

Fuck why are her eyes welling again, she doesn’t want to cry in front of him.

“Hell, maybe I should have realised I was reading into things when you didn’t contact me for a month, Christ I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot midge-” to his credit he looks just as pained as she feels.

“Tell me something, what was that night to you? Because all the flirting, the favours, the sneak attacks - fuck Lenny was that all just in effort to fucking sleep with me?!”

“Jesus Christ, of course not Midge!” He says, stepping away gesturing a little wildly. A passing mother shields her child's ears, ushering them through the tunnel quickly. “I was telling the truth - I did not plan that night. I didn’t expect it either.”

“So what, it was just a spur of the moment kind of thing to you?”

“No midge. It was-” he exhales, deflated, and looks skyward ‘fuck, I mean - Midge it was more than I could have ever dreamt.”

She stops at that, her eyes locking onto his.

“Look, I didn’t dare to hope I got more than just that one night with you.”

“Why the hell would you think that?”

“Because I’m a fucking mess Midge, it would never work out between us. I can’t give you what you deserve and I would only end up hurting you.”

She scoffs at his reply, crossing her arms, “And you get to decide that all on your own and leave me high and dry. Fucking hell Lenny I thought we were friends. First and foremost. I felt like I finally got onto the same page with you and now you’re fucking off to LA?”

He stops at this, tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry Midge. I just - I can’t be here anymore. My kid is in LA, the state of New York is gunning for me, the arrests are getting more serious and frequent, and - to be honest - nothing good can come of you being seen with me.”

“You saw what was in the bag Midge” he adds quieter sounding ashamed and not meeting her eyes.

Midge is at a loss of what to say, her mouth opening and closing multiple times trying to reply - she feels the fight leave her.

“Please don’t leave Lenny.” She says in a quiet and teary voice, “What am I supposed to do without you? You’re my only friend in this goddamn industry. Who’s going to bring their umbrella to my shows? Who’s going to be there to pull my head out of my ass?”

He gives her a sad smile.

“You don’t need me, Midge. You never did.”

She feels a tear escape and roll down her cheek as he turns to leave.

“Knock ‘em dead” he adds before he heads out through the tunnel towards his gate.

___________________________________

He’s a goddamn coward is all he can think as he joins the line to board his flight.

He turns when he hears his name shouted from behind him, suddenly a blurry pink figure is rushing towards him. He drops his suitcase and coat on instinct as Midge launches herself at him and kisses him. Lenny’s arms wrap around her instantly gathering her close, unable to resist as she devours him. It’s a kiss that verges on indecent especially given they are surrounded by people waiting to board the plane. She pulls back for a moment, their foreheads pressed together.

“I may not need you, but I want you Lenny Bruce”

She kisses him again softer this time drawing out the taste - it feels like goodbye.

She takes his hand and places a crumpled piece of paper into it

“For when you’re ready” as she closes his fingers over it.

She kisses him once more briefly then parting, missing her soft lips already “Look after yourself Lenny” she whispers and with that she turns and walks away not looking back. He finds himself stuck, feet routed to the floor as he watches her leave. He unfolds the note she handed him revealing her address and phone number along with a note scrawled in a rush:

Someday we’ll stop walking away from one another.

He feels the tears build in his eyes as he watches her disappear into the crowd and he tucks the note into his pocket turning to board the plane. Someday he thinks to himself. Someday.

#tmmm #tmmm fanfic #tmmmfic #midge x lenny #midgelenny #the marvelous mrs. maisel #mrs maisel #tmmm season 5 predictions #midgexlenny #ff #tmmmff

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