#Anyway I hope this explained what I was thinking??? Fair warning I tried to explain what certain things meant but if it doesnt make sense | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

underoossss · 1 year

Text

Head over Heels - S.H

masterlist

pairing: steve harrington x grumpy!f!reader

summary: Steve falls for Robin’s grumpy friend, and he falls hard.

warnings: family problems mention, trust issues, angst, hurt/comfort, no spoilers, (there’s fluff I promise!!!)

grumpy x sunshine trope

an: I know this is the first Steve fic I’ve posted IN FOREVER and I’m sorry! my writer’s block, personal problems, work and health, have all contributed to how long it took me to finish this. But I promise to make it worth your while, this is the same length as babe baby beautiful and I hope it makes you happy. I dedicate this to all my grumpy beloveds out there, who, like me. don’t relate 100% to the sunshine tropes bc sometimes life just freaking sucks. I poured my heart out with this one so, I hope this comforts you and that you like it! Please let me know. 💘

——-

The September breeze pushes Steve’s hair back as he makes his way to the Hawkin’s start-of-autumn fair, a new thing the town is trying out to make the citizens feel more upbeat after all the incidents they’ve experienced. His friends trail after him, Mike and Lucas arguing over something he doesn’t understand, Max listening to Dusting complain about some prank the soccer team played on the Hellfire Club and Robin walking by his side. Everyone shouts food orders over their shoulder, running towards the picnic tables in search for an empty one, and leaving Steve and Robin alone.

His friend is rambling by his side, and Steve nods along to what she’s telling him. She has a new friend this year, met her at homeroom when she was introduced as a new student. A senior like Robin, she got along with her just fine. I talk a lot and she doesn’t, it’s a good fit, I think she really needed a friend that day, Robin says, and now she’s friends with all of us. Steve hums in understanding, switching schools in senior year sounds awful, and he wonders why you chose to do that. He wouldn’t, unless it was for something serious.

“Anyway here she comes!” Robin says excitedly, waving you over. “I can’t believe she actually came, she’s not comfortable with strangers and she doesn’t know you. I thought she’d sit this one out.”

Steve follows Robin’s line of sight and spots you walking towards them in the distance. Baby blue sweater, light washed jeans and black high-top converse, make you stand out from the orange foliage around you. Your face is serious as you get closer, only breaking into a small smile when you wave at Robin and accept her hug. When you step back your face morphs back to neutrality, a slight furrow to your brow as you hide your hands in your back pockets.

Robin says your name and motions towards Steve. “This is Steve, the friend I told you about.” She explains, “He’s our chauffeur, monster-fighter and designated babysitter.”

Steve furrows his brows and looks sideways at Robin before he looks at you and grins. “Hi, nice to meet you.” He offers his hand and you give it one quick shake before pulling back and looking away. Steve wasn’t expecting that reaction, but he guesses what Robin said is true, you don’t like strangers.

“We’re going to get Apple fritters! They have massive ones here and they serve them with big scoops of ice cream.” Robin tells you, glancing down the line as it moves. There are only three people left to order, so the three of you step into line. “Let me check if they’re still doing the ice cream on top.”

With that, Steve is left to wait next to you until Robin is back. You shift from one leg to another, almost nervously and Steve glances at you. Your eyes meet his and then look away, not scared or nervous, just looking away like you can’t be bothered to make conversation with him. Is he intimidating? Steve asks himself or are you just a massive buzzkill that can’t even comment on the weather.

Steve tries again, scratching his cheek. “So, uh, you’re in senior year like Robin?”

You nod, looking down at your feet before looking at him. “Yeah, we have a lot of classes together. I know the guys over there as well.” Your hand lifts to point at Eddie, who’s just arrived at the table, and the kids talking around him.

Huh, so you do speak, Steve notes, but only when prompted. “Cool.” He nods, looking at your face and noticing the way you look away immediately. “So why did you move to Hawkins all of a sudden? I mean senior year, that’s gotta be rough.”

You press your lips together, looking uncomfortable by the question. Steve has the faint idea that he asked the wrong thing. “I should go say hi to everyone.” You say after an awkward cough. “If there’s ice cream can you tell Robin I’m good with cookie dough?”

Steve wordlessly takes the 5 bucks you hand him and sees you rush away from him. In the distance he can see everyone’s faces light up when they spot you, beckoning you over with excited waves, and your reluctant barely there smile as you greet them and sit down. Steve doesn’t get it; he is half mortified and half confused when Robin comes back. How is it that everyone is your friend when you’re so closed off and Steve doesn’t want to say it but… grumpy.

“Are you sure your friend wants to be here?” Steve asks Robin, looking over at you again. You’re sitting with your elbows leaning on the table, listening to everyone talk around you, neutral expression on your face. Bored, even.

“Of course, she does.” Robin is quick to say. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, she doesn’t look too thrilled to be talking to you.” Steve shrugs.

“You clearly don’t know her.” Robin shakes her head. “What did you do?”

“I only asked her about her move to Hawkins.” Steve holds his hands up defensively, then adds. “She said she likes cookie dough ice cream.”

They pause their conversation to order the fritters and pay, then continue talking while they wait.

“Okay, you shouldn’t have asked that. First of all.” Robin rolls her eyes, “Second of all, she’s friends with all of us.”

Steve huffs in disbelief. “Oh so she likes you? That’s her I like you face.”

“She adores us, you… not really but that’s cause she doesn’t know you.” Robin nods with certainty, then worries her bottom lip. “The move question is just tricky for her.”

Steve moves to say something when their order is called, and she go back to the booth to take the trays laid out in front of them. There are eight apple fritters with ice cream they have to juggle back to the table but manage to fit in their hands and arms.

“Look Steve.” Robin says seriously, lowering her voice after a sigh.” She slows her pace, so they take longer to get back to the table. “She has been through a rough time; I won’t tell you what because it took her a long time to trust me enough to open up.”

“Okay…” Steve nods, going over her words and feeling a soft pang of guilt. He wouldn’t have judged you so harshly if he knew you were struggling with something. He wouldn’t have asked you about you changing towns. “You could’ve told me that before I messed up earlier. Before I was bitchy too.”

“You’re always bitchy.” Robin huffs, then hums when she looks at you sitting in the distance. “She’s wonderful Steve, in her own way, so don’t judge her by the way she presents herself. When she trusts you, you’ll see what I‘m talking about.” She gives him a pointed look.

Robin’s words echo in his head as they reach the picnic table and hand over the food to their friends. Steve places yours in front of you with a nod to which you say thank you. Now that he knows a little more about you, Steve guesses you were both left with a bad first impression. They aren’t his forte, and it’s not his fault you weren’t the same person with him as you are with Robin. You don’t know each other, of course it was going to be awkward. Steve sees what Robin means as everyone chats and eats; he sees it in the way your eyes soften, and lips smile slightly when Max begins to tell you something. He sees it in the way you lean closer to the redhead and whisper something that has her laughing soon after; you smile as well before turning your attention back to the group. Dustin and Eddie are planning some sort of revenge on the jocks from the soccer team who messed up something in their Hellfire Room.

Steve tries to focus on what they’re saying but he’s too busy looking at you, trying to figure you out. What happened? What’s the thing that you told Robin that made you keep the gentleness you showed to Max tucked away? You feel him looking at you and meet his eyes, it’s a distrustful glance from the way you narrow your eyes at him. Okay, Steve probably stared at you too long. He looks away and hears you sigh before you do too, tuning back into the conversation between the Hellfire club sitting at the other end of the picnic table.

“That’s a horrible plan.” You say plainly, making Max snort and Eddie pause the conversation. The metalhead rolls his eyes –no annoyance, no malice in sight. Steve supposes Eddie knows you like Robin does.

“Why is that, buttercup?” Eddie asks.

“They’ll know it was you, and they’ll beat you up, Munson.” You tell him seriously with an eye roll of your own –Steve doesn’t need to know you to catch the concern in your tone. “Put some laxatives in their protein powders instead.”

Steve lets out a bark of laughter that startles the table; that would be a good prank if he’s being honest. Everyone turns to look at him, including you and Steve clears his throat. “It’s a good idea.” He mumbles rubbing his chin, then meets your eyes briefly to find something like amusement in them.

“No, no, no.” Dustin shakes his head. “It is an objectively good plan, there’s no way they’ll know it’s us.”

“Yeah, we’ll wait for them to leave and then sneak into the locker room.” Eddie adds. “We’ll seal their lockers shut, they can’t change into their gear the next day and their coach yells their ears off.”

“The perfect plan.” Dustin says proudly and looks around the take to see who agrees.

“You sure they won’t be able to trace the prank back to you? See it as immediate revenge for what they did?” Max asks nodding towards you, “She’s right.”

“We’re absolutely sure.” Eddie confirms with a nod, clapping his hands in front of him.

“Can I read the eulogy at your funeral then?” You ask Eddie and Dustin with fake enthusiasm. “I call dibs.”

Steve chuckles and next to him, Robin fakes discontent as she rolls her eyes. “Damn, I wanted to do it.”

You send a smile her way before you clear your throat. “Eddie and Dustin died as they lived.” Your words are solemn as you speak. “With bad plans and too much confidence that they’ll work.”

“They always work.” Eddie says, chuckling at your words with everyone else. You simply raise one eyebrow at him, which Steve must admit is hot, and Eddie shakes his head. “I guess they sort of work.”

“So, laxatives?” Dustin asks Eddie after a minute, a defeated hunch to his shoulders.

“Laxatives.” Eddie and the rest of Hellfire repeats before the table bursts into laughter– including Steve.

His eyes don’t leave you though. You’re not laughing like everyone else but there’s a small smile on your face. It is reserved but softens your face in the loveliest way. It shows him you are enjoying their company despite the otherwise inexpressive look on your face. Steve begins to wonder then… if he wins your trust, the one you have with Robin and Max, will you smile at him the same way you do with them? Bright and beautiful enough to blind him? He guesses it would be worth a shot, getting to know you more, because if he’s being honest, he’s intrigued.

--------

The next time Steve sees you it’s at a party. It’s mid-October and the cold weather turns it up a notch with the cold bite to the air. He wouldn’t have gone to the party in the first place, if he’s being honest, but Robin forced him to go. Everyone will be there she’d said but Steve didn’t know who everyone would be. Only when he arrived at Kevin Rotner’s house did he begin to recognize some familiar faces. Nancy, Johnathan, and Eddie arrive at the same time he does and the five of them walk up the driveway and the small path leading to the front porch. There’s loud chatter inside and a boombox playing to the loudest volume in the dinning room. There are people sitting in the staircase laughing at a joke and more loud conversation coming from the backyard. He navigates the house with his friends until Robin spots you in the kitchen, and Steve doesn’t know why he’s so nervous when he sees you. You greet Robin with a hug and shrug when she tells you something, he can hear. Your face is pretty and serious as you look over Robin’s shoulder, spotting everyone else coming to say hi. Steve sees you take a deep breath before you greet everyone — almost as if you’re preparing yourself for small talk and hugs. He greets you last, more open and approachable than last time, and he’s surprised when you wave. “Hi, Steve.”

Something inside Steve jumps, but he thinks it’s only his own surprise. He’s about to say something, when Robin and Nancy take your hand and drag you away with the promise of some new gossip, they have to tell you.

Steve talks to a few people here and there; mostly the ones he’s kept in touch with after high school. Other than that, he doesn’t know anyone else; he doesn’t know if it’s cause he’s grown up but he’s not really having fun. There are people jumping into the pool despite the weather while those who mind the cold have gathered inside the house. Steve’s mostly avoiding the crowds, where the air is too hot despite winter being near, while keeping an eye out for his friends. Nancy and Jonathan are talking to some people he doesn’t know in the kitchen, Robin is trying not to combust while she talks to her crush —her lab partner in biology— and Eddie is walking around the entire party with his lunchbox.

When Steve sees you again, you are people watching in the living room, eyes trained on a few people in the middle of the room. He moves to stand next to you, and you shift your gaze towards him but say nothing; Steve thinks it means it’s okay if you stand here. Your foot taps to the music –Tears for Fears’ Head Over Heels –and your head moves almost imperceptibly to the music. The two of you are quiet for a while, and it’s not awkward like Steve expected it to be, not after the way he messed up at the fair. He’s pleasantly surprised, and relaxes a bit more next to you, slouching slightly against the wall. One of your arms is crossed over your chest while your other elbow rests on it, a red cup in your hand. The music continues to play and your eyes are still trained on the people talking in the living room, they’re some old Hawkins High students Steve kind of recognizes. There’s Angela and Karen, Bradley and Peter and some other people he doesn’t know the names of. Steve leans his weigh on his right leg, which brings him closer to you.

You don’t move away, simply pass him your red cup. Steve moves to shake his head no and say he’s driving, but you speak up before he does. “It’s only soda.” You say and nod at the cup that Steve takes the cup from you shortly after.

“What’re you watching?” Steve asks.

“The only interesting thing that’s going to happen in this party I think.” You look at him finally and lean closer, Steve isn’t sure you’re aware of it. “I think there’s going to be a fight.”

Your eyes hold amusement in them, like you’re excited for what’s about to happen. The tiniest movement of your mouth has Steve glancing down, you’re grinning, barely; he thinks it’s cute.

Steve’s eyebrows raise, interest spiked, and is about to say something when you turn your head again. Bradley is saying something to Angela, his voice loud and slurred but incomprehensible over the music, and not a second later an equally intoxicated Peter swings a punch at him. Another girl, who Steve doesn’t know, confronts Angela they start arguing with Karen joining the fight. Bradley and Peter fall to the ground, wrestling each other while others try to break the fight.

“Wait isn’t she?” Steve’s mind catches up the everything that happened puts two and two together. He’s pretty Angela is dating Bradley, not Peter.

“Yup.” You say with a shrug, tilting your head. “It was all a matter of time before it happened.” It’s all you say, then chuckle. Steve does too, he can’t help himself at the sound of your own laughter, until the two of you are giggling at the fight in front of you.

The music changes then, to something more upbeat, and Steve’s mind can only think about asking you to dance. Would you say yes? Probably not. Before he can ask you though, you step away from the wall. More people have gathered in the living room to watch the fight, and you decide to make your way to the front door. Do crowds bother you? Steve wonders.

“Wait.” Steve goes after you and closes the door behind him. “Where are you going?”

“Home.” Your back is turned to him. The cream-coloured sweater you wear over your lilac skirt and your black boots look lovely on you, and so does your hair. Steve doesn’t know why but he thinks it frames your face perfectly. There’s also a hint of remaining lip-gloss on your lips that shines with the streetlamp’s light… and Steve, well Steve thinks You’re so pretty.

“It’s cold, don’t tell me you’re going to walk.” Steve speaks again, shaking away his previous thoughts.

You shrug, “I usually do, it’s not too far.”

Steve doesn’t know where you live but he knows Rotner lives far away from almost everyone in Hawkins. Your house is probably far away. “I’ll drive you.” Steve offers, but you sigh and look away.

“Go back to the party Steve, you can drive Robin home.” You say simply. “I’ll see you around.”

“No, she can go with Nancy.” He follows you until he’s walking next to you. “It’s not safe for you to walk home, come on.”

You sigh again and look up at the sky, annoyed. If you’re annoyed, then he’s too, because you’re making a dumb decision for the sake of being stubborn. And you probably don’t know that he’s stubborn too, so you might have to argue all night about whether this decision is right or not. Why is it so hard for you to accept a ride home? You offered him soda and were talking to him just now; it was nice. More than nice.

“I won't stop asking.” Steve says, crossing his arms and stepping in front of you.

Your eyes meet his in an intense half-glare, and Steve can’t help but think how nice your eyeliner looks on you. It does something to him he hasn’t felt in a while. He feels like he can’t breathe while heat creeps up the back of his neck —it’s October, he shouldn’t feel hot at all. A moment later you roll your eyes, though backing down first, and giving Steve some time to breathe as you turn around.

“Alright.”

Steve can’t help smiling in triumph, knowing he just won, and follows you as you walk towards his car further down the road. Amusement paints his eyes as he looks at you; your lips are pursed, and a huff escapes you.

“You’re pouting” Steve says, looking at your lips and the annoyed look on your face. It makes him smile. You’re pouting.

“I’m not” You look sideways at him.

“Oh, you are.”

“Shut up, Harrington.” You say and he laughs, opening the passenger’s door for you.

-------

From then on Steve does his best to increase his charm and be a gentleman. He offers you his help as well as rides home whenever he can, especially when you’re alone. The last thing he wants is for you to think that he’s only being nice when your common friends are around. Steve sees you more often now, not as much as he’d like, he must admit, but enough to know more about you. What you’re okay with sharing, more like.

As he suspected from the party, you don’t like crowds (they make you nervous), and when Steve asked why you’d changed the topic. You work at the Deli on Main Street, have a younger brother named Chris, and you love coffee. He always sees you drinking one in the morning when he gives both you and Robin a ride to school, and whenever he stops by at the deli for lunch during your shift. Most important of all, Steve is starting to see what Robin meant when she said not to judge a book based on its cover. Because, despite your grumpy exterior, there’s a whole personality hidden underneath.

Steve can tell. There are hints and pieces; from the way you dress, to the music you like, and comic books you read and often exchange with Max. When he takes the time to look, he sees the gentleness with which you do things, and the care with which you treat your friends. He also sees your distrust for what it is: fear. You’re afraid, to let new people in, to get hurt, and Steve doesn’t know why.

He wishes there was something he could do to fix it, to make you see the glass half full instead of half empty, or to change your sporadic pessimism. But then he figures, he would be changing you, and that’s not something he wants. If he’s being honest, your friend group (Steve isn’t sure if he’s your friend, officially at least) needed someone with an objective outlook on life to set their heads straight. And if he’s honest with himself, he likes all the things that make you you. He likes your confidence when you don’t care what people think about you. He likes it when you fight with Robin over who chooses the music, despite it being his car. And he's pretty much obsessed with your face; the hard set of your jaw when you get impatient, the brow you silently arch that makes him feel things he shouldn’t, and the silent way you listen to conversation, only speaking up when you think it’s necessary. Steve is more than a bit obsessed.

He had been wrong that first day. He didn’t know you and wrongly assumed you weren’t happy to be there with them, when you actually were. He reflects upon it now that he knows your facial expressions; your eyebrows had been relaxed, and your eyes didn’t have a hard edge to them. You had been at ease, only closing yourself off when Steve tried to dig into your move to Hawkins. He really started off with the wrong foot, but it all takes a turn on a Friday night.

You visit FV for a tape mid-afternoon, surprising Steve at work. The weather is more than chilly outside, and Steve notices right away how you have no jacket on, only a dark red sweater. He’d been doing some paperwork behind the counter when the bell over the door for his attention. It rewarded him with the sight of you walking in, looking around before your eyes settle on him.

“Hey, Steve.” You say voice light as you approach him and lean your elbows on the counter. “Do you have karate kid available? My brother is begging us to watch it again tomorrow.”

Steve doesn’t know why but he struggles to speak for a moment —it probably has to do with the fact that you look very pretty, and two, this interaction is so different from your first one he shortcircuits. After a long pause you raise a questioning eyebrow, “You okay?”

Steve clears his throat. “Yeah. Um, we have it, let me go get it.”

“Thank you.” You nod as he dashes away from the counter.

“Did you walk here?” Steve asks once he’s cleared his head and reaches the action movie aisle. He sees you shrug over the stands.

“I usually do, I don’t mind it.” You explain simply.

“You’re not wearing a jacket though.” Steve grabs Karate Kid and goes back to the counter. Why are you always out in the cold without a jacket? It’s a miracle you haven’t fallen sick, he thinks.

“I left school in a rush, I was gonna be late for work.” You shrug again, eyes visibly lighting up when you spot the movie. “Thank God. Chris would have been insufferable if someone beat me to it.”

Steve crouches down behind the counter and retrieves his own jacket —a grey bomber— before placing it on the counter in front of you. “Here.”

“Steve,” You tell him seriously, rolling your eyes. “I’m not taking your jacket.”

“Why not? You’re the one walking out in the cold, I only have to walk towards my car.” He dismisses your refusal with a wave of his hand.

“Hey!” Robin says, calling your name as she emerges from the back room. “Perfect timing, I was going to call you.”

“Here to rent karate kid.” You tell her, a small smile on your face.

“And choosing hypothermia over my jacket.” Steve chimes in, sliding his jacket pointedly towards you.

“It’s not that cold Steve.” You roll your eyes at him again, “But I know you’ll annoy me until I say yes.”

Steve gives you a triumphant smile and you shake your head, Steve would even say it’s shyly, before you take the jacket and shrug it on. “The movie? Please.”

Robin speaks up while Steve rings you up. “We’re gonna hang out at Nancy’s tonight. The kids will be there too, you should come.”

Steve risks a glance at you, in his jacket; a huge mistake. He seriously underestimated his reaction to seeing you in his clothes, because it is downright adorable and something he was unprepared for. The sleeves go past your hands and the whole thing is oversized on you, his shoulders being broader than yours and his torso longer. Steve bites back a smile —he hopes you never give it back to him; this is a sight he’d love to see more often. He turns back to the computer to hide his grin from you and silently hopes you’ll say yes.

“Will there be other people?” You ask Robin, and Steve is quick to shake his head no and reassure you. Too quick.

“Just the usual gang.” Steve tells you, clearing his throat to hide his eagerness. “No one else.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Robin insists with a smile, then moves her gaze towards Steve, who tries to ignore the way she raises a knowing eyebrow at him. He’s gonna have an earful once you leave, he can bet on it.

“Okay, I’ll be there.” You nod, then exchange some cash for the movie Steve hands to you. “Thank you, Steve.”

Steve leans his forearms on the counter, trying to give you his most charming smile to see if he’ll get one of those you give Robin in return. “We’ll pick you up after work.” Steve says and you look into his eyes for a long second before nodding.

“Sure.” You shrug, eyes shifting away from his. “I’ll see you guys later.”

------

At Nancy’s, chaos ensues. The kids argue over what board-game to play while Eddie and Robin argue over what record to play next. Steve is listening to Nancy and Jonathan talk about a volunteering drive she’s organizing and from where he stands, he can see you leaning against the wall next to Robin. Your face is neutral as you listen to the record that’s currently playing, tuning out Eddie’s argument for the most part until you speak up.

“Or you can let me choose?” You ask calmly, glancing at them briefly before going back to looking down at your feet.

“No!” Both Eddie and Robin say at the same time, and Steve notices the corner of your mouth twitch upwards.

“You chose this one, buttercup.” Eddie says with a sigh. “You’re only gonna choose one to annoy us.”

This earns Eddie an eye roll. “How exactly do you know that?” You ask. “It could’ve been a great pick, now you’ll never know Munson.”

Steve tries to tune back into Nancy’s explanation when Max pushes the board game she wanted to play away with a huff. It clatters to the ground as she stands from her place in front of the coffee table. You spot her and call her name only a moment later.

“Hey Max, I got the new Wonder Woman!” You say after a moment when the read-head stops glaring daggers at the boys.

Her eyes light up, a dramatic change from the look in her eyes moments ago. “Really? Can I see it?”

“‘Course, I brought it for you.” You roll your eyes, this time full of fondness, and nod towards the kitchen. “It’s in my bag.”

Steve can’t follow your conversation because the doorbell rings, signalling the pizza Nancy ordered arrived. The weather feels much colder than earlier as he opens the door and steps outside, he pays for the pizza, tips the delivery guy and goes back inside. Arms full of pizza boxes, he walks back to the dining table, shooting a pointed look at Dustin and Mike. “Zip it or you don’t get a single slice.”

The high schoolers move more discarded boardgames away from the table in a heartbeat, scrambling to undo their mess and opening the pizza boxes in a hurry. Steve spots you still standing in the kitchen talking to Max as everyone helps themselves to pizza and decides to let you both know the food is ready.

“So, you skate too?” Max is asking you excitedly, leaning her hip against the kitchen counter.

You chuckle — it hits Steve in the chest and Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. “I do,” You grin, “I mean I used to when I lived in Indianapolis, but I haven’t since I moved here.”

“We can go to the skate-park tomorrow.” Max proposes raising her eyebrows, “If you want.”

You nod, “Sure. I’ll look for my skateboard tonight, let’s hope I still remember how to use it.”

“Pizza’s here.” Steve says, interrupting and smiling at you both. When your eyes meet his, your lips move to smile but in a matter of seconds you stop yourself.

It makes Steve furrow his brows and walk over to you as Max leaves to grab a slice. “You okay?” Steve asks, and your eyes meet his again briefly before they dart away as you sidestep him.

You make your way to the front door in a rush, this time though you do grab your jacket—his jacket— on the way. Just like he did the night of the party, Steve follows you, worried and confused at your reaction. Robin glances at him from the dining table, an unspoken question in her eyes but Steve can only shrug. He is certain he didn’t do anything wrong just now, but somehow, he messed up because you just fled from him.

“Stop.” Steve says after calling your name. “What happened?”

“Nothing, I just need some air. You should go back inside Steve.” Your back is to him, shoulders tense and close to your ears defensively.

“No,” He shakes his head. His lips go down into a frown briefly as he looks at your back. He voices the question he always asks himself when you shut him down. “Did I do something?”

“No.” You say when you turn, eyebrows meeting in the middle as you glare at him but Steve sees the way you struggle to hold it in place. After a second it falls, and your face just crumples to exhausted look. “I want to be alone.” You whisper.

“You think a glare and a pout are intimidating enough to drive me away?” Steve shakes his head.

“I don’t pout.” You say, lips pursed and jaw tense. Pouting.

“You do and it’s not working.”

You change tactics then, raising an eyebrow and staring him down like the night at the party but Steve shakes his head. “That’s not working either.”

“Why are you insisting so much on this!” You finally ask, raising your voice and crossing your arms in front of you. Your jaw clenches as you look away and Steve sees your eyes squeeze shut.

He runs a hand down his face and breathes out. “Whether you like it or not there are people who want to get to know you.”

“What, like you?” Your eyes cut a suspicious look Steve’s way and he can see your walls come back up right in front of him. A tear falls down your cheek and you’re quick to wipe it away, harshly. “Why?”

Steve throws his hands up in the air, exasperated but not raising his voice, “To be your friend! Just like Robin and Eddie are your friends.” His shoulders move up and down, trying to cover up how much he likes you and looks forward to your company. “Why are you so distrustful, is it something I did?”

“It’s not about you, Steve.” Your eyebrows meet in the middle again, and you look away from him, directing your gaze to the snow-covered lawn. “If… If it bothers you so much, why do you even want to be my friend? Because you’re wrong Steve. No one else does, and I’m more than fine with that.”

Steve shakes his head, knowing you’re lying to him and trying to convince yourself. His voice softens. “Because despite it, I like you, I think you’re… cool.”

“Cool?” The way you raise your eyebrows makes Steve chuckle.

Funny, caring, fucking beautiful, Steve wants to say but he just nods his head at your question.

“Yeah, and you’re interesting, and I… want to be your friend.” Steve’s hands settle on his hips as he shifts his weigh to one leg, looking down to the ground. Glancing at you briefly, he drops his voice to whisper your name. “Don’t leave. I’m not lying… that’s what worries you right?”

Steve assumes that’s where your distrust comes from; you told him it wasn’t something he did, then it must be that you’re scared to trust him. He’s known there are many feelings behind your hard exterior, one of them being fear. Steve doesn’t want you to fear him, and he wonders who broke your trust in the past. Silence settles between the two of you; you seem to be going over his words and Steve is giving you the time to do so. He’d wait an hour if necessary and reassure you a thousand times if it would mean you believe him. Steve panics when he sees you swallow hard and shift your eyes at the sky, the last thing he wanted to do was make you cry.

But you don’t cry. Instead, you take a deep breath and look into his eyes. There’s a vulnerability there that awakens an urge in Steve to hug you. “You promise?” Your voice is a whisper, but he hears you clear as day. You’ve never spoken so softly before, and Steve wishes it could have happened under other circumstances.

Steve looks into your eyes and nods with sincerity, hoping you can see he’s being completely honest with you. “Yes.”

“I do like you, Steve. You just scare me.” You look down at the ground for a moment and nod to yourself as Steve’s eyebrows shoot hop in surprise. A moment later, your eyes drift back to Steve and there are emotions dancing around in them he’s never seen before. “I’m sorry.”

Steve nods and something inside him tightens when you offer a small smile. It’s like something shifts between the two of you despite neither of you moving. In a matter of seconds, everything feels easy, natural, like the brief moment your shared at the party in October. Steve realizes it’s because you’ve let your guard down; you stand differently in front of him, more comfortable, less apprehensive. You scare me. “You wanna tell me why?”

You press your lips together and shake your head. “Another time, maybe?”

Steve tries to hold back a smile, but he can’t, it takes over his entire face. When he sees you shiver, he offers his hand. “Let’s go back inside, or I can drive you home if you want to leave.”

“I can stay a bit longer.” You say when you grab his hand –an electric shock goes up his arm. “I really want some pizza. But if they play Monopoly I’m definitely leaving.”

Steve’s laughter follows you as he leads the two of you back to the house.

The coffee cup Steve places in front of you at work the next Monday lands with a soft thud on the counter. It’s black coffee with some milk and sugar; the way Steve’s learned you take it every day. The sound and his presence make you look up at him over the top of your book, a doubtful eyebrow raised and a serious look on your face. Fuck your pretty, Steve thinks. Your eyes shift from the coffee to his face a couple of times before you close your book.

“What’s this?” You ask, leaning back on your seat and tilting your head.

Steve leans his elbows on the counter in front of you and tilts his head right back. “Considering you drink around 5 of these a day, one would think you’ll know what it is.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re mistaken. I actually drink 10.” You deadpan, looking at him with fake disappointment. “I thought you knew me, now that we’re friends and all.”

Steve laughs, looks down and shakes his head. When he looks at you again, there’s a half smile on your face. “Come on.” He says. “Let’s go grab some food.”

“I literally work at a deli, Steve.” You tell Steve seriously, motioning to your surroundings. “We’re surrounded by food.”

Steve copies what you just said with a roll of his eyes and smiles again. “I mean something else, babe. Come on.”

With a sigh you stand up from your seat and round the counter, leaving your apron behind. “You’re lucky I get a break in a couple of minutes.” You tell Steve before yelling over your shoulder. “Hank I’ll be back!”

Steve’s eyes light up and he considers his visit a triumph. He’s becoming surer and surer his feelings for you go beyond friendship and fondness and lean more towards: I want to hold your hand all the time, and cuddle you while we watch movies then forget about the movie and get lost on you. He wants to put his arm around your shoulder freely, have you lean your weigh against him and steal a kiss, probably more than one. No. It won’t ever happen so Steve shouldn’t even be thinking about it. He opens the passenger’s door to his car for you and smiles when you get in, your coffee in your hand.

It becomes a routine of sorts, either you visit him at Family Video bringing sandwiches for him and Robin or he picks you up, a coffee waiting for you in his car and drives you wherever feels right that day to eat your lunch. You talk about your day, or whatever gossip you heard that day. One day you even confessed to be scared about graduation.

“Everyone is so excited to finish school, and here I am so terrified about the future I haven’t opened any of my college application letters.” You muttered, picking at a loose thread on your sweater.

“Why are you scared?” Steve asked you and you swallow hard.

You turned your body on your seat, facing him as you shrugged. “I feel lost, I don’t know what I should major in. I also don’t know where I’d like to go, and I can't even research these colleges without panic settling on my chest.” Your eyebrows furrowed and your jaw got tense and Steve knew that meant you felt angry and this time it was at yourself.

Steve took your hand without a second thought, but you let him. “You know, you don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

“It feels like it.” You whispered looking at him, frustration and embarrassment shining in your eyes. “Everyone else has it figured out.”

Steve shook his head; you shouldn’t feel embarrassed with him. “If there’s something I’ve learned about you, is that you don’t care about what other people are doing. What do you want?”

“I ask myself that question every day.” You mirrored his head shake and looked away. “Let’s talk about something else. Please?”

Steve was happy to change the subject, anything to cheer you up. By the time you go back to the Deli to continue your shift, he realized it was the first personal thing you’ve told him. Ever. It made him happier than he cared to admit.

-----

Two months after your talk in Nancy’s driveway, you invite Robin, Nancy, Eddie, Jonathan and Steve to your house. It’s the first time you’ve let anyone other than Robin into your home, this time for movie night. Your father and brother went back to Indianapolis to pick up other stuff from your old house, you said, it’s perfect timing. Steve and Robin arrive together, and shortly afterwards Eddie’s knocking on the door.

Your house is cozy and simply decorated with a forest green comfy looking couch, a dark brown coffee table and a TV in the living room and all the basic stuff in both the dining room and kitchen. There’s a record playing somewhere, and Steve can’t help the smile that comes to his face when he sees the way you’re mouthing the words as you move back and for the between the kitchen and living room bringing snacks, drinks and pizza for everyone. You’re wearing a cream-coloured sweater he recognizes from the party back in October and something funny happens in his stomach when he realizes just how far your friendship’s evolved since then.

“Babe come on take a break, we can help.” Steve stops you from going back to the kitchen with a hand on your shoulder and a fond look on his face.

You open your mouth to say something when Eddie and Robin appear on either side of you, presenting the movies they –surprisingly– were in charge to pick. “The best horror movies.” They say in unison.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as you take the three VHS tapes from them. “Oh. Um, great! Thank you.” Your reaction hides behind the grin you shoot both, who nod and disappear to the kitchen.

“You’re pouting.” Steve says stepping closer to you again in the living room; your eyes that were fixed on the VHS tapes drift upwards to meet his own. Steve smiles.

“I’m not pouting.” You tell him with a roll of your eyes, lips settling back into a pout as you scan the titles of the movies once more. “These are just scary.”

“You’re still pouting.” Steve whispers, like it’s a secret. His eyes drift down to your lips, a mistake that has him swallowing hard, before the doorbell rings, signalling Johnathan and Nancy arrived. He’s quick to turn and go let them in. It’s a perfectly timed distraction. He shouldn’t think about kissing you, because despite no matter how badly he wants to, you’d never let it happen, or feel the same way he does to let it happen. “Just saying!”

Once the first movie plays, Eddie and Robin settle on one end of the couch, while Nancy and Johnathan sit on the floor in front of them. Steve shoots Robin a I know what you’re doing look before sitting next to her and feeling the couch dip under your weigh when you settle on the empty seat next to him. A sweet floral scent he now recognizes as your shampoo or your perfume reaches him and Steve actively decides to focus on the movie, not the way he wants to pull you over his lap and breathe you in. Eddie and Robin laugh every now and then and the four of you turn to look at them, there’s nothing funny about the movie. You begin covering your face with the bucket of popcorn as the movie progresses, your face grimacing as the suspenseful music picks up.

Steve leans closer to you, his voice a whisper as he speaks. “It’s just special effects don’t worry about it.” You turn to look at him, worried puppy dog eyes gazing into him and dammit you make it so hard to keep his distance. “Trust me.” Steve winks, lightening the mood only to jump and scream when he turns to the movie once more and a jump scare comes on.

It seems like the perfect medicine for your fear. For you forget about it and lean your head back laughing, a full-on belly laugh, that’s so contagious and beautiful Steve laughs with you. Nancy and Robin share a knowing look he doesn’t notice before they shush the two of you, shoving at his elbow and your knee. You cover your mouth with your hand and your shoulders shake as you lean your head on Steve’s shoulder, turning your body towards his; Steve’s never been so happy to be scared in his life.

Everyone leaves after 3 movies. Robin gets a ride with Eddie, and Nancy leaves with Jonathan as well. Steve though, stays behind insisting on helping you clean up, but it’s a weak excuse to check on you before he leaves. He noticed you getting nervous, fidgeting with your hands anxiously when everyone started to leave. The films were long done, so Steve knows something else is worrying you and it doesn’t sit well in his heart to leave you like this. Which is why he is currently picking up trash in the living room while you do the same in the kitchen.

You’re finishing placing the dirty dishes in the sink when Steve enters the room. He noticed right away the way your shoulders hunch and you take a deep breath. “Steve…”

“You okay?” Steve closes the trash bag and moves to the sink. His eyes roam your face as he looks sideways at you and washes his hands.

“I um… I wanted to apologize to you.” You tell him quietly, passing him a kitchen towel before moving away from the sink. “For how closed-off I was when you met me.”

After drying his hands quickly, Steve turns and leans on the edge of the sink. “It’s okay, it’s not easy to trust new people right away.” He reassures you –it’s something he understands now; he understands you.

You sit on the counter opposite to him and stare at the floor for a bit, polka dot sock clad feet dangling in the air. “It’s more than that. I’m just scared of getting close to people since…”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Steve shakes his head, keeping his eyes on your face.

“I trust you, Steve.”

Those four words make Steve’s chest flutter –relief, happiness, nerves– but he pushes the feeling to the back of his mind and patiently waits for you to continue. Your lips are pursed as you stare at the floor, gathering your thoughts.

“My mom…” You swallow, getting chocked up with those to words but soldiering on. With a shake of your head, you look up to the ceiling and will your tears away. “My mom left my dad, brother and I last April. She’d been cheating on dad for years… and that’s not even the worst part.”

You wipe your eyes quickly, lips pulled downwards into a deep frown when you pause again –an upside-down U Steve wishes he could smooth out with his thumb. But he stays where he stands and lets you continue.

“The other man was married too” Your eyes find Steve’s and where there’s usually a spark –like that night at the party– there’s only sadness directed at the memory. “He’s the father of a popular kid at my old high school, so you can guess what happened when everyone found out.”

Steve’s mouths opens again and this time a soft no escapes him.

You press your lips together and nod, “So not only did the news wreck our home… they made life at school unbearable for my brother and I. People who I thought were my friends just threw me away as if I was trash for something I didn’t do. Something I had no fault in.”

“Is that why you moved here?” Steve asks softly, walking closer to you. The answer to the question he asked many months ago, right in front of him and it doesn’t make him feel any satisfaction. No, it hurts him to know this. Moving away from everything you’ve known and starting over again during senior year sounds brutal.

“Yes.” You whisper and close your eyes briefly; more tears fall down your cheeks and Steve’s heart aches. Teary eyes move away from his and fix themselves on the kitchen window instead, your lips are pressed so hard against each other they’re losing colour. “She packed her bags right after school the day we found out. We saw her leave with that man, no other explanation, not even a goodbye or a note. Everyone except my dad and my brother decided to leave me that day.”

A sob escapes you then, finally breaking free and shaking your whole body; another one replaces it once it stops. Your hands move from the counter to your face, covering it as cries continue to escape you in succession. Steve wastes no time and walks to stand in front of you; he hates seeing you in so much pain. God, it must have hurt so much, just being left behind like that. His hands move to your hips and gently urge you to hop off the counter before he wraps you up in his arms. His shoulders shake with the force of your sobs as you cling to him.

“Stevie.” Your hands are bunched up in the back of his polo, holding onto him like a lifeline.

Steve can’t even relish the sound of your calling him Stevie so softly. He swallows hard as he witnesses the pain, you have felt inside of you for so long. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers.

“She left us, Steve. She just disappeared and left us grieving her despite her being alive.” You say between your tears, they soak the right side of his shirt, but Steve couldn’t care less, his arms just tighten around your waist. “She’d been pushing us away for years, treating us like garbage and now I can see it’s because we weren’t good enough for her anymore. She didn’t love any of us anymore. We… we didn’t make her happy.”

Your voice sounds hoarse from crying, and your hands tighten behind Steve’s back. When you bury your face in his chest, Steve hunches his shoulders and forms a cocoon to protect you from the past. His protective nature takes over as he holds you flush against him; his hand moves up and down your back firmly –you need to know he’s there, that he’s got you. Steve puts his cheek over your head and whispers his next words. “I’ve got you; you can cry as much as you need to, I’m not going anywhere.”

It takes a few minutes, but your sobs soon transform into soft sniffles even as you press yourself closer to him. Steve doesn’t want to upset you anymore, but he’s itching to comfort you and let you know what he wishes someone had told him years ago. “I know my own shit experience with my parents isn’t the same as what you went through.” He starts, taking a small step back so he can look at you.

His fingers take a gentle hold of your face until puffy and teary eyes meet his; Steve wipes away some stray tears. “But what your mom did to you doesn’t say anything about you alright? You’re more than good enough for anyone. If she didn’t see that, then she made the worst mistake of her life.”

You close your eyes at his words and look away, but Steve shakes his head and urges you to face him again with a whisper of your name. “You don’t have to prove your worth to anyone because your mother left. All of us see it, and we’re so lucky to have you here.”

Steve’s thumb catches more tears as your lips begins to tremble again. “I’m so fucking lucky that you trust me, and I understand why you didn’t at first, okay? I understand you.”

Your hands on his waist tighten again as your forehead drops to his right shoulder. “I didn’t used to be like this… I’m sorry that this is the me that you met.”

Steve shakes his head, sure that you feel it when he does, and pulls you flush to his chest again. Is this how you’ve felt since last summer? He wonders. Like this version of yourself is wrong or unlikable.

Sure, you’re not a smiley person, but that makes your rare smiles even more special –and they drive Steve crazy. You see the glass half-empty most times to protect yourself if things do indeed go to shit, but you also recognize genuine goodness. You don’t hesitate to encourage or celebrate everyone else’s happiness; he’s seen it firsthand, with the kids, with Robin and even himself. Steve doesn’t think he could ever get tired of your dark humour or that pretty pout that settles on your lips when you get annoyed, not to mention that making you laugh is his favorite thing in the world. Steve understands your anxiety and panic at your college decision, you don’t want another change; you don’t want to choose something you don’t like and face another disappointment again. Most of all, Steve finally understands your hesitance and the root of your gruff exterior, and he wouldn’t change a thing about it. He’s stupid in love with you; your grumpy and soft looks; your frowns and your smiles; your heart; and that tender way you’re holding onto him right now.

Steve places a kiss to the side of your head to keep himself from saying all of this out loud –it’s not the right time, not yet. Instead, he whispers above your ear, “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

For a moment, stillness surrounds the two of you in the kitchen and there’s no other sound but your quiet sniffles against Steve’s shirt again. Steve doesn’t mind, he’s happy to hold you for as long as you need, which ends up being five more minutes. You take a step back and look at him with those pretty eyes of yours; they’re teary and red-rimmed but lovely all the same.

“Thank you, Steve.” You whisper, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips until your gaze drops to his shirt and embarrassment shines in your eyes. “Sorry I cried all over you.”

“I don’t mind.” Steve shrugs and looks at you softly, hands still on your waist. “I think I know what we should do.”

You look at him curiously. “About what?”

“To cheer you up.”

The head shake you give him is immediate, just as he imagined. “I don’t–”

“You deserve a happy life.” Steve states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and sends a wink your way hoping to amuse you. “And I think, ice cream is a good way to start. I should know, I worked at an ice cream shop remember.”

He leaves your side and walks over to the freezer to grab the ice cream he saw earlier that night when he got up mid-movie to get more ice. It’s cookie dough ice cream, which he knows to be your favourite ��he’s known since that first night he met you. Knowing he’s completely serious now, your eyes stare into his eyes for a moment before you turn and grab two spoons from a kitchen drawer.

“I guess we’re having ice cream then. Considering you’re an expert.” You say with an eye roll Steve can only describe as fond when you approach him again. A moment later, you sit on the counter and Steve follows suit, sitting next to you. “Spoon?”

“Thank you.” Steve says and takes it from you after opening the ice cream tub. He offers the tub to you first, letting you scoop some ice cream with your spoon which you pop in your mouth. Your arms brush from how close you’re sitting, and Steve has to lean forward to look at you, but he doesn’t mind. He’s happy with the proximity.

A sigh escapes you and you close your eyes as you savour the ice cream. Steve feels heat creep up the back of his neck at the sound, but he shakes the feeling off; you’re only eating ice cream, to make you feel better. “You were right Harrington, this is like medicine.”

“Told you, I’m an expert.” Steve chuckles and eats his own spoonful, the creamy ice cream melting in his tongue before he laughs as you search for the cookie dough in the tub. “This is going to be just plain vanilla ice cream if you keep doing that.”

“Finders keepers.” You tell him with a shrug as you bring the cookie dough to your mouth. “It’s arguably the best part of this ice cream.”

“You’re supposed to eat the ice cream with it!” Steve argues, holding the tub away from your reach. “I want cookie dough too you know.”

You roll your eyes at him, but there’s a soft look on your face as you look at him and nod. The two of you go back to eating ice cream in silence until Steve speaks up again. There are so many things he wants to know about you still –he thinks he’ll always want to know more. “What’s something you miss from living in Indianapolis?”

You pause mid-scoop and concentrate for a few moments going over his question. A moment later a tiny smile makes its way to your lips. “There used to be a wonderful campsite my dad used to take my brother and I; we’d camp for three days and do all sort of activities.”

Steve smiles. “Like what?”

“Dad and Chris love fishing, so we’d do that. There was also hiking, swimming, s’mores. Oh! We’d all tell each other stories sitting next to the fire. They were all completely made up of course, and I think the more ridiculous they were, the more fun we had.”

Your eyes wander around the kitchen, like you’re back in the forest with your family and not next to Steve anymore. Light dances in your eyes and Steve can almost picture the three of you laughing around the fire as the catch of the day roasts on a grill nearby. He knows better than to ask about your mother, he’s got a pretty good idea what the answer would be. Besides, you’ve cried enough already, so much that Steve’s own heart feels bruised from seeing you in pain.

“You haven’t camped here in Hawkins?” Steve asks after a minute, voice quiet to avoid disturbing your memory.

You shake your head and sigh, the mirage in front of you disappearing as your eyes drift back to Steve’s. “Dad’s not the same person he was during those camping trips… he hasn’t scouted a good place for us to go. I don’t think he even wants to go camping anymore.”

Steve puts the ice cream tub on the counter and takes your hand instead. “Maybe we could go camping someday, invite everyone, have fun…”

Your head moves to rest on his shoulder, the dizzying smell of your shampoo and perfume reaching Steve’s nose at the proximity. He leans his cheek on top of your head and feels the faint nod you give him. “Maybe.”

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, your hand still in Steve’s grasp. Until he gives it a squeeze that makes you jump, as if you forgot you were holding hands in the first place. Steve chuckles. “What?”

Your head leaves his shoulder in an instant and for a second Steve is sure you’re going to hide behind your walls again, like you did so many months ago. His fear though, is replaced with concern when you hop off the counter and check the time with a frown.

“Babe come on, what’s going on?” He hops off the counter and stands in front of you. His eyes search yours until finally your gaze meets his, your embarrassment clear in them.

“I just hate being home alone at night. It makes me anxious.” Your hands fidget in front of you, as if you’re waiting for Steve to laugh at you. Oh, so that’s why you were nervous earlier. “I can’t sleep. At all.”

He looks down at his watch and sees that it’s midnight already. “I don’t mind staying over.” Bringing his eyes back to yours, he speaks up again. “Would that make you feel better?”

You close your eyes and let out a shaky exhale before you nod. “A lot better.” When your eyes open again, they’re full of gratefulness and surprise, as if Steve wouldn’t do anything for you.

A smile grows on Steve’s face, and he takes your hand before you can thank him, threading your fingers together as he speaks. “Come on, you’re probably tired.”

Steve, however, is everything but tired. His heart is racing at the thought of spending the night here with you. You’ve never spent so much time together in a day, he’s never seen your bedroom, and there’s something about this impromptu sleepover that makes heat creep up the back of his neck. No. He’s here to give you emotional support; you were so anxious earlier and there’s nothing he wants more than to see you happy and comfortable. If staying here, despite it sending his feelings into a frenzy, is the key for you to rest then so be it. He can stay for one night.

You don’t let go of his hand as you lead him upstairs, passing various pictures of you and your family that hang from the wall opposite the handrail. There are three bedrooms upstairs and yours is the last one down the hall, its view towards the backyard. You open the door a moment later and let go of his hand as you step inside. Now that he’s here, Steve remembers neither of you made sure the doors were locked downstairs. He should do that.

“I’m going to take a shower.” You tell him as you walk towards your dresser.

Steve nods and swallows hard, using the excuse of your safety to be downstairs while that happens. “We forgot to lock everything downstairs. I’ll go do that.”

“Oh, right.” You press your palm to your forehead; Steve can see you reprimand yourself. “Thank you, Steve.”

“No problem.” Steve is quick to shake his head as he takes a step back from the room. “I’ll be right back.”

Once Steve is back downstairs, he makes sure to check the windows and lock the front door. He fiddles with the light switches for a while before he finds the right ones and turns the lights off. The whole process takes him less than five minutes, and the shower is still running when he’s back in your room. With a deep breath he finally looks around, gazing through a metaphorical window into your world, which he surprisingly already knew a lot of. The pastel walls make him smile, and he walks along the furthermost wall where various posters have been hung –all bands and singers Robin and you have played in his car. There’s a small vanity by the closet next to the bathroom, full of tiny bottles and a couple of lip-gloss tubes. Steve also spots a purple bottle of perfume on top, and a grin makes its way to his face –that’s the one that drives him crazy, he’s sure of it. He’s about to move closer and look at the pictures you’ve pasted in the vanity’s mirror, but he’s startled to a stop when you speak.

“I left a shirt for you to sleep in, if you want it.” You say and Steve turns around.

His heart summersaults when he sees you, fresh dewy face, hair out of your face, an oversized grey t-shirt with a pink Queen logo on the front and pink cotton sleeping pants. The overhead light of the bathroom makes a small rectangle in the carpeted floor, and some steam from your shower still circles around behind you. It takes all Steve’s self-control to stay where he is and not walk up to you and pull you into his arms; no tears between you this time, just Steve holding you the way he wishes he could all the time. He looks at the t-shirt you left on your bed to distract himself and laughs when he notices the colour.

“How’d you guess I love pink?” Steve asks you, glancing your way as he walks towards the bed and holds up the t-shirt. It’s very oversized like yours, and it has a black and fuchsia print of Blondie’s lead singer on it.

“Dunno, just thought it would suit you.” you chuckle, and Steve sees you hold back a smile as you point towards the bathroom. “There’s a spare toothbrush on the sink.”

Steve nods and hurries to the bathroom, lest you notice him blushing. He finds the toothbrush instantly and proceeds to brush his teeth, and though he doesn’t know why, Steve feels extremely happy to know both of you use the same toothpaste. He glances around and looks at all the details that are entirely yours around the room. There are some facial creams on a shelf next to the mirror, a vanilla scented hand soap on the sink, and a look towards the shower shows him two purple and pink shampoo and conditioner bottles –the ones that make your hair smell like flowers. Steve rinses his mouth, then takes off his sweater and jeans before he puts on the pink t-shirt you gave him and, like a freak, smells it to find that somehow your scent still lingers in the soft cotton.

If he was panicking before, he’s panicking even more now. He’s obsessed with you, he realizes, stupidly head over the heels and all of this is making it worse; lying on a bed next to you will make it so much worse. He’s got to pull himself together. He’s doing this because of fear of being home alone, that’s all. He can sleep alongside you for a night without making a fool of himself –or worse, accidentally confess his feelings. So, pushing all bed related thoughts to the back of his mind, he walks out of the bathroom to find you already under your duvet in bed.

Not letting himself think too much about it, Steve turns off the lamp on your nightstand and slips under the duvet too. He keeps his body still, tense more accurately, as he lies next to you. That is until you turn to face him, and he immediately does too, like a magnet naturally attracted to you.

“Do you ever fear that you’ll wake up one day and everyone you know will be gone?” you whisper in the dark; your voice is almost silent, but Steve hears you loud and clear with how close he is to you. The minty smell of your toothpaste mingles with his own breath. Is this how things are going to be between you now, deep conversations and secrets you only trust to each other? He really hopes so.

Steve shakes his head, trying to make out your face in the dark as his heart constricts in his chest. “No,” he says just as quietly, “But sometimes I’m afraid that something terrible will happen and I won’t be able to help.”

Steve closes his eyes and exhales through his nose as he voices one of his fears for the first time. He’s sure that everything that happened in the Upside Down that they managed to fix was thanks to the brains in his friend group. Steve is all physical strength, which has proved useful in the past, but against monsters or whatever the hell could come next, he’s not sure it will be enough. The thought of being useless like that and everyone suffering because of it terrifies him. Even more now that you’re a part of said friend group. He’s sure of one thing though, he’d protect you and all his friends no matter what.

Your hand slowly moves to his shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Knowing you, Steve, I’m a thousand percent sure you’d find a way to help. Your stubbornness can be a good thing.”

A breathy chuckle leaves him as your words punch the air out of him. He’s silent for a moment, scrambling for something reassuring to say back. Words aren’t his forte, not unless he’s flirting. He’d rather pull you close to him and comfort you that way, the way he did in the kitchen. “You know… if we were to disappear for whatever reason, you can bet I’d fight my way to you. You won’t be alone.”

Steve sees you nod your head in the dark, his only sign that you haven’t fallen asleep yet. Your hand goes back to your side, in front of his before you stifle a yawn. Assuming your eyes are tired from all their crying, Steve moves his hand to cup your cheek gently.

“Go to sleep, you need to rest.” He whispers; he wants to give you more comfort, pull you close and rub your back until you fall asleep. He doesn’t because he can’t, that would make things weird.

“Thank you for staying with me.” You whisper back.

Remaining silent to avoid saying something that’d give away just how deep his feelings for you run, or the fact that the opportunity to be lying here next to you is something he should be thankful for, he only rubs his thumb softly on your cheek once more before letting go. With another yawn you turn around, your back facing Steve as you whisper goodnight.

Steve doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but he knows he sleeps more peacefully than he has in a while. Not that he doesn’t sleep well often, but most days his dreamless sleep is a result of the exhaustion of the day and not peacefulness. Last night though, there were no nightmares, no tossing and turning, just a distant dream of a campfire in the woods, fireflies, and a silhouette standing peacefully by the water. At some point, early in the morning, he finds himself waking to the light sneaking into the room from a small gap in the tulle curtains. His eyes that were too sleepy to open, blink awake at the awareness that you’re in his arms. Lovely floral scent and cozy softness pressed to him.

It seems that during the night, you’d shifted to your side and burrowed yourself on his chest, an arm around his waist and leg thrown over his hip. His left arm is around you, settled between your shoulder blades, holding you to him. He lifts it and checks his watch, barely 6am but Steve knows he should go. The last thing he wants is your father getting back home and finding him in your bed. Steve doesn’t know him and that’s not the first impression he’s looking for. Besides, there’s a pressing problem in his briefs, that has appeared from being tangled up with you, that he needs to hide in his jeans before you notice. Shifting his hips way from you he looks down at your sleeping face, brushing hair away from your face before he whispers your name.

“Hmm,” You frown, eyes still closed. “What?”

“You’re a cuddler,” Steve says as he smiles; it’s something that should surprise him, but it doesn’t. Not at all.

“I’m not.” You mumble and, contradicting yourself, press closer to him.

“Yes, you are.” He chuckles, shifting his hips backwards again. “I have to go.”

You frown but move away from him, turning and facing away. “Why?”

Steve slips from bed and puts his jeans back on, adjust himself, before pulling his sweater over his head and on top of the pink t-shirt. Call him a lovestruck fool, but he’s not giving it back. “I don’t know when your dad’s gonna be back, I don’t want him to find a boy he doesn’t know in your bed.”

You chuckle, then yawn as you shift and sit up in bed. Steve stares at you longer than he should. His eyes take in your messy hair and your still puffy eyes from all your crying the night before. He smiles widely.

“I have drool on my face, don’t I?” You sigh, moving the back of your hand to the corner of your mouth.

Steve laughs and shakes his head. “No, you don’t; you look pretty that’s all.”

His words reward him with an eyeroll and a headshake before you stand up. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

You remain silent as the two of you walk side by side all the way down to the front door. Steve takes his car keys, and you move to open the door, but pause after a moment. Steve’s eyes look into yours as he wonders if there’s something wrong but when your eyes shift up to him, a small smile settles on your lips. Next thing Steve knows, your arms go around him in a hug.

He can’t help but sigh at the feeling and leaning his cheek on top of your head. “You okay?”

You nod and look up at him. “Thank you, Steve.” You say, stepping on the tip of your toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t thank me.” Steve smiles, letting his arms fall to his sides as his heart skips several beats. “Wanna get a coffee later?”

Is he bribing you with caffeine just to see you again? Of course, he is. Steve is charming, and he has a lot of work to do if he wants to make a move soon.

“Only if I get to pay.” You raise an eyebrow but smile nonetheless, that rare big smile he loves.

Steve huffs and opens the door. “Sure, babe.” He says though he knows you don’t believe him.

He walks to his car when you nod –heart pounding– and smiles as he drives away. Your figure on the rear-view mirror watches him leave until he turns at the end of the driveway. Steve leans his elbow on the door, his hand settling over his mouth as he thinks about the events of last night and this morning. Hope fills his chest, and Steve feels like this is the beginning of something really good for both of you.

---

There’s a small shift in your dynamic after that late night conversation in your kitchen. It’s like almost as if it brought you both closer: like a barrier breaking between you and Steve. Steve knows he should take it slow, that he should better conceal his feelings to avoid scaring you off. But another part of Steve wants to throw caution to the wind because there’s been a change in you too. I trust you, Steve, you’d said, and it shows. In the way you sit closer to him, how you give away more pieces of your past and yourself when you talk. There’s less apprehension and more curiosity from both of you and Steve can’t help but fall and fall and fall. He only hopes it doesn’t end up with him crashing down painfully.

The two of you make a new habit of visiting a small the café on the weekends; you sitting sideways on the couch and Steve talking nonsense to make you laugh. It starts the day after the sleepover, and the two of you use it as time to catch up on the events of the week. It delights him; every Saturday, he wants nothing more than to lean close and kiss your smile, the one he never thought he’d be at the receiving end of. You have bad days too, days in which Steve knows you’ve been crying, days where all you want to do is sit in silence with him. Steve doesn’t mind, at all, in fact he loves all your mood equally and now that he knows the backstory of what you went through, he offers you the quiet reassurance of his presence next to you, so you know you’re not alone.

Weeks pass like this, until winter leaves and spring comes. Overnight, the breeze has no bite to it anymore, the flowers bloom again and you begin to wear the prettiest floral dresses that give Steve a whole new reason to be obsessed with you.

“You two are adorable; when are you going to tell her, dingus?”

Steve and Robin had stopped by the Deli to get something to eat during their lunch break while you were on your lunch break too. The three of you had spent the 30 minutes talking between bites of your own sandwiches until the moment Steve had to drive away and you had to go back to your shift. He hears Robins words but his eyes follow your retreating figure until you’re out of sight –his mind is begging him to find you and steal a kiss just so he doesn’t go crazy. Robin snaps her fingers in front of his face and laughs when Steve startles. He rolls his eyes and gets in the car while Robin asks him the same question again.

Steve rolls his eyes again, “Tell her what?”

“That you’re obsessed with her dummy!” Robin hits his arm, Steve sends her an annoyed look, “You love her come on, you have to tell her.”

“No, I can’t.” He’s been thinking about it more often now. Keeping it to himself has been almost impossible lately and he knows he should do it before he breaks.

“Yes, you can, and you have to.” Robin asserts, setting her converse on the dashboard. “She clearly feels the same way.”

“She doesn’t.” Steve’s answer is instant as he focuses on the road and getting back to FV, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard they turn white. It’s a half-lie, and they both know it.

“She does and you know it.” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Robin shake her head. “The way she looks at you Steve… it’s unbearable to watch, coming from her.”

Steve knows it, he’s seen that change. He’s felt the pitter patter of his heart, the way his hands shake when you look at him like that, like he’s all you want. But Steve is a coward in denial, he doesn’t want to assume wrong and send you running away from him. But if Robin’s seen it… “You really think so?” He says as he parks his car and Robin nods enthusiastically.

“Duh!”

He nods to himself, “Okay... I can tell her tonight. We are hanging out at my place anyway.”

“I’ll make myself scarce, just say the word and I’ll disappear.” When Steve nods Robin cheers, opening the passenger door and stepping outside. “Don’t mess it up, Steve.”

“I’ll try.” Steve grips the steering wheel, trying to calm himself down.

Steve doesn’t get a chance to though, for that afternoon with greying clouds in the sky you show up at Family Video as soon as your shift at the Deli ends. Steve is about to go to the back and finish some inventory he has procrastinated all week when he sees you pacing in front of his car, arms crossed over your chest. His heart soars, then fills with dread –somethings wrong. He knows it right away which is why he rounds the counter and rushes outside in a heartbeat.

“Babe, what’re you doing here?” Steve says as soon as he opens the door. “It’s gonna rain come on, let’s go inside.”

But you shake your head and look at him with a look he can’t name. It’s a sad look, and it makes Steve panic; he panics even more when he sees your eyes are teary and red-rimmed. “Did something happen? At work or at home?”

“I love you.” You say, at the same time thunder cracks in the distance. Your trembling lips press together when Steve’s move to smile, and your headshake makes Steve pause. “But I don’t think we should see each other again.”

“What?” Steve’s question is a whisper, almost lost to another booming thunder. “Why would you say that? Did I do something?”

“No, Steve.” You sigh, voice shaky, looking everywhere but his eyes. Steve knows this tell though; you don’t want to be caught in a lie. “We just don’t fit–”

“No.” He says simply, shaking his head as he interrupts you. This is that night in the Wheeler’s driveway all over again, you trying to shut everyone out. His hands still shake slightly though, at your confession, your words afterwards, at the idea of losing you.

“Steve it won’t work.” You tell him, it cracks halfway with feeling, and you swallow hard before repeating yourself. “It would never work.”

“Yes it will, it’s us.” Steve tells you, shaking his head. He remembers how far you’ve come, how close the two of you have gotten. He should’ve have known it would scare you, after what happened with your family. “Of course it will! It has worked for months.”

“It won’t! It won’t work regardless of our feelings. Because I’m me! And you’re you –you’ll get sick of me and then leave. And it’ll hurt more than anything I’ve ever experienced.” You tell him, shaking your head and looking at him with reddening eyes. Both your arms are crossed over your chest, as if you’re physically protecting your heart from feeling what if feels for him. I love you, you said. Around you, the sky begins to open, bathing both of you with big droplets of water. “I told you before, you scare me because I’ve never felt this way before.”

Steve tries to take a step closer, but you take a step back; it makes him groan in frustration. “You can’t make that decision for me! How can you think I’d just leave you?”

“Because the person who I thought never would, LEFT.” You yell, eyes brimming with tears that roll down your cheeks. They mix with the raindrops that fall on both of you and Steve’s heart aches.

“Then she didn’t love you enough, not the way you deserve.” Steve places his hands on his hips, looking at the wet concrete underneath his shoes. His eyebrows meet in the middle as he swallows hard. He can’t put into words how angry it makes him that someone hurt you so much, that you’re scared of being happy again. “I thought you trusted me.”

“I do.” You tell him, hands falling to your sides. Your voice is so quiet that the rain falling around you almost drowns it out. “You know I do.”

“Then let me love you!” You’re stunned into silence by Steve’s words, confessed loudly in an outburst as he brings his hands to his hair. He meets your eyes and feels his own tear up; he really doesn’t want to lose you. “Let me prove to you that I love you like crazy, baby. Because I do, you have no idea how much.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and Steve knows you can see all of his feelings reflected on his face. “I don’t want to be heartbroken again Steve! Can’t you see you’re sunshine, and I–”

“Don’t say that.” He whispers and steps closer to you, holding both of your hands. The way you cling to them sparks a fire in his heart, keeps his hope alive. “I told you I wouldn’t change a thing about you, that I’d fight my way to you.”

You try to let go of him, but Steve only pulls you closer even as you look away from him, lip trembling. “You know my issues, especially after what happened last year.”

“I do know them, and I’m telling you now that I don’t plan on ever letting you go. This isn’t just a fling, and you know it.” His hands go to your face, holding it gently and looking into your eyes. Those beautiful eyes he’s seen tear up, the ones that crinkle in the corners when you laugh and turn steely when you’re mad. He wants to look at them forever.

You close them, bracing yourself, as the sky continues to fall all around you. Big drops of water hitting your skin and soaking your clothes every second that passes. “Even if I have bad days, or get exasperated with you, or I’m a grump?”

Steve smiles and shakes his head. If only you knew. “I love it when you’re a grump, I want to kiss your pout so badly every time.”

“I don’t pout,” You roll your eyes, but Steve can see you’re trying to hide your fear. He’s learned every little detail about you to memory, this is you trying to build a wall. Well then, Steve knows how to break them down.

“I promise,” Steve says, like he did that November night you fought outside in the cold. His nose brushes against yours as tenderly as he can, rainwater sliding down between your faces –his breath catches on his throat. “I love everything about you, everything baby, trust me. It’s you and me, that won’t change.”

You nod, trust shining in your eyes as a teary smile makes its way to your face when you let it free. It knocks the air out of Steve’s lungs. “Stevie, I love you.”

He leans his forehead against yours, happy beyond words and because he’s not good with them he says, “I really want to kiss you.”

“Then kiss me,” You urge him.

Steve leans down, holding your face in his hands and lingering close as he braces himself for this; this moment he’s wished for so many times. He smiles, and thinks finally, before leaning in and kissing you. A noise dies in the back of his throat, his chest feels full of helium and his mind reels at the everything he’s feeling. It’s even better than he dreamed it would be. Your lips soft against his, your hands in his hair, the sigh that escapes you when one of his arms wraps around your waist and presses you flush against him. His skin is buzzing, his fingertips are tingling. So he kisses you until you’re both dizzy, brushing his tongue against yours, matching your intensity head-on. Everything is intoxicating, the sweet scent of your perfume, the softness under his hands, the way your face feels like it’s on fire as his hand remains cupping your cheek. Steve is so in love he could faint, so he breathes you in as he kisses your cheek, your jaw, your neck and just below your ear until the two of you pull back. Soaked in rain, without a care in the world.

“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend?” You ask him softly, stepping impossibly closer to him.

Steve smiles proudly, heart soaring. “Yes it does, I’m yours.”

“I want to kiss you again.” You confess after a minute, blinking away that raindrops that have gathered in your eyelashes and smiling at him. “But I’m cold.”

Steve laughs when you frown and pulls you closer to him. “Yeah, we should probably get out of the rain.”

----

thank you for reading! reblogs are really appreciated and so is any feedback 💖

(I also wrote this tiny insight to grumpy reader’s feelings here )

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x you #steve x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst

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padfootagain · 6 months

Text

Only an Almost (I)

Chapter 1 : For the Best

Hello!! Here is a new series! I’ve already finished writing and proofreading it, and I’ll be posting two chapters per week! I hope you’ll like it!

Please, tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2739

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It was a logical decision.

That’s what Andrew kept telling himself. As he watched you pick up your clothes, scattered across his bedroom floor, he forced his mind to form the same thought over and over again.

This is for the best. There’s no choice.

It was part of the deal. You never stayed for the entire night, and he didn’t linger long enough to fall asleep in your arms. Made it easier. Avoiding getting attached, avoiding stepping into any type of complication. You had sex, and then you were gone. On the side, you were good friends.

Best friends.

Something like that. Something in between good and best, he would say. Good didn’t sound strong enough to describe your friendship. It explained why it all happened in the first place, why you started casually hooking up about three months ago. After your first kiss, you decided to establish a simple rule.

If we do this, it can’t be anything but sex. We can’t get attached like this.

Romantically, that’s what you meant by this. And Andrew got it, of course. He spent most of his time abroad, it was the only logical decision. Besides, he had tried before to have serious relationships, but every time the same scheme repeated itself: he would leave for tour, and everything would fall apart. The distance always extinguished the flame. That and the fact that he was so busy he barely had time to sleep, let alone dedicate quality time to anyone. And he understood, of course, he couldn’t complain about being dumped when he spent a grand total of 20 minutes on the phone with his partner in the span of a day, when he got lucky. He got it, the ghostly presence, the lingering pain of being apart, the estrangement that came with the oblivion of the other’s life. He knew what it felt like, and he understood that others were not ready to go through that for him. He wasn’t worthy of it. It was alright…

And he understood that you didn’t want to get dragged into his mess of a life. To be fair, he didn’t want to drag you into this either, and he agreed when you offered this arrangement. He didn’t feel like he had a choice that day, when you made him this offer so casually, in front of a cup of tea. He could have said no, but his feelings for you were way too strong for that. Better have a little bit of you than nothing at all…

Friends by day, sex by night, no romantic feelings. Sounded simple enough.

“Damn… where’s my other sock?”

You looked around frantically, searching for the tiny piece of garment. Andrew spotted it by the door. He didn’t say anything about it.

“You’re coming to Alex’s party tomorrow?” he asked instead, voice a little hoarse after the sounds you had torn from him tonight.

“Hmm… yeah, probably. He’ll have my head if I don’t, anyway.”

“Perhaps not your head, but definitely your sanity.”

“He does hold grudges like no one else…”

Andrew stared as you buttoned your jeans, still searching the room for your lost sock, the one he didn’t help you to find. He readjusted the blanket higher on his torso, feeling self-conscious now that he was the only one left naked.

“Want me to pick you up?” he offered, and you nodded with a grin.

“Yeah, that would be nice! That way I can get properly sloshed.”

He chuckled at that, bathing into the warmth of your laughter, smiling without a thought.

“Oh, and I need to go to your mother’s tomorrow!” you informed him, readjusting your shirt.

His shirt, as a matter of fact. His heart stumbled at the sight…

“Really?”

“Hmm… she wants to take pictures of several objects for her artwork. I’ve volunteered to go around Dublin with her tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thank you.”

“We both know I like Raine better than you. I’m only keeping you around to have her,” you teased, throwing Andrew a mischievous wink.

He tightened his hold on the sheets.

“Oh, I see. You’re only using me to get to her… and I thought you only used me for sex.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” but he noticed the way you bit your lip, refraining a smile, and how you averted your eyes in shyness, and he loved the sight…

Your eyes fell on the lost item, and you let out a victorious cry picking up your sock, while Andrew swallowed back the lump in his throat.

You sat down on the edge of the bed to put your socks on, and he didn’t think as he sat up, leaning into your form. He didn’t wrap his arms around you, merely rested his shoulder against yours, revelling in the warmth escaping your body.

He pressed his lips to your hair, felt you tensing, saw you stopping your movements.

“Ring me when you’re home, okay? It’s late. Are you too tired to drive?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not that tired,” you answered, voice weaker than before, but he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps because the night was quiet but for the branches of trees singing in the wind outside, and it felt like the world had slowed down, like it was more peaceful than usual. Perhaps because you were uncomfortable. Hard to tell.

He moved away, just in case. Distance cutting your edges and his with cold. And yet Andrew remained but centimetres away.

“Alright. Still, tell me when you’re home, okay? Just to be safe.”

You seemed to relax, he didn’t know if he liked that reaction or not.

“I like it when you do that.”

It sounded like a confession, the words on your lips quiet and velvety, soft to the touch.

“Do what?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side a little.

“Get all worried about me.”

You gave him a smile, one that he offered back with ease.

“Hmm… don’t have a choice. You’re a menace behind the wheel.”

“Am not.”

“Are too! You almost killed us last month!”

“It wasn’t even my fault, there was a fucking sheep running across the road, coming out of nowhere!”

“Can’t believe you’re blaming the fauna for this…”

You both laughed at that, and when you grew quiet again, smile still lingering on your lips, you let your head fall to rest onto his shoulder, and it was Andrew’s time to relax. You lifted your hand to rest upon his chest, right over his heart. For a second, he felt embarrassed at the thought that you would feel how fast his heart was beating, but your palm was too warm against his skin, and he soon couldn’t care enough to worry.

He wrapped an arm around you, holding you close, but not too much, not as much as he would have wanted, too afraid you would push him away.

“I know that… that’s what friends are made for, but still… it’s nice. Thank you, Andy.”

He closed his eyes as he rested his lips against your hair; closed them too tightly, until it hurt.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he whispered into your skin, mouth drifting to press against your forehead. “You don’t ever have to thank me for that. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You hummed, leaning into him even more, and he felt all your muscles relaxing as he rubbed your back, palm flat against your spine, the curve so familiar under his hand by now.

You heaved a sigh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Andrew answered without a second thought, not thinking about what he had planned. He would move his schedule around for you anyway.

You looked up at him again, blinked a few times, as if to fall back onto earth. There was something dreamy in your smile.

“Good night, Andy.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

That was another one of your rules: no affectionate pet names.

He leaned down to kiss you, but you turned your cheek to his lips instead, and acted like it was nothing, like he had never been aiming for your mouth in the first place.

Third rule: no kissing without sex.

The next second, you were standing, walking towards the door. He stared as you walked out, listened to the padding of your feet on the tiles, the creaking of his staircase. He waited until the front door closed, and he let himself fall back into his pillows.

It was a logical decision, he didn’t have a choice.

Andrew, you absolute fool…

His mother was worried, which meant that Andrew was worried.

She was smiling at you as if nothing was wrong, as if the sunny afternoon truly was as bright as the beams coming across the green leaves of his parents’ garden trees.

Andrew was not fooled though. He knew his mother too well not to see the signs, to be blind to her slight frown, to the drifting downwards of her gaze, to the worried lip she kept biting on.

Raine didn’t say a word while you were here though, and it only worried Andrew more. You were a friend of the family; almost part of the family at this point. You were close enough to Andrew’s parents and brother to spend time with them on your own, just to see them. And they invited you often as well. If Raine wasn’t saying anything in front of you, it ought to mean that this was serious, that something terrible was happening. His thoughts drifted to his father…

“Andy? You’re okay?”

He blinked up at you, soothing the frown he had not noticed across his brow. He gave you a reassuring smile.

“Sure, why?”

“I don’t know… you look… worried. Is there something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. I was just lost in thought.”

You narrowed your eyes a little at him, clearly unconvinced, but Andrew shot you a smile, asked a question to draw the conversation back to you, and you yielded.

It was such a sweet afternoon, after all. You had spent some time taking pictures for Raine, and somehow had found your way to her garden, with tea and biscuits, a little high on sunlight and laughter. It was lovely. It almost felt like you and Andrew were not friends, almost like you were in your own family home. He pushed that thought away quickly though, taking a sip of tea and regretting that there was no burning effect of alcohol when he swallowed.

When you left to go home, Andrew was aware that he held you too tightly, for too long, that he let his lips linger against your cheek for more than a mere peck. But you didn’t push him away, and so he leaned further, allowed himself to be close, just for a moment.

You hugged Raine, promising to come back the following week for an artsy afternoon, and left as the sun abandoned the sky.

Andrew was washing the teacups when he finally asked his mother what was bothering her.

“Nothing, honey,” she reassured him, but he shook his head and gave her a hard look.

“Come on. Don’t lie to me. I know there’s something on your mind. Are dad and you okay?”

“Oh, darling… of course, we are. Don’t worry about us, we’re both fine. No, it’s… it’s you I’m worried about.”

Andrew couldn’t refrain a laugh, a mixture of relief and surprise.

“Me? Why would you be worried about me? I’m good.”

“Are you, though?”

She gave him that look, the one that pierced him to his soul, the one he couldn’t run away from. The one he knew would claim the truth, in the end. He felt like a child when she looked at him like that, like he had just stolen a cookie from the jar and was caught red-handed as he tried to hide the proof of his crime.

“I’m fine, mom. Don’t worry about me, I’m okay. I really am.”

But her gaze only hardened. Not in a cold way, on the contrary. It was a gaze of steel in its firmness, but that held all the love she had for him. His heart sank at the sight.

“Don’t lie. I know there’s something off between you and Y/N.”

Andrew struggled to swallow, looked away, fleeing. He stared at his hands still holding a teacup, and he noticed it was yours. There were traces of your lipstick on the edge of the pale porcelain. He traced it with his fingers absent-mindedly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, but his lie was obvious, his voice too low, too weak. In the sink, his fingers pushed the cup into the water, disappearing under soapy bubbles, and he left them there, in the warmth of the water, staring at the flesh that had disappeared, at your trace that was gone but that he hadn’t erased yet.

“Andy… you know that you can tell me anything. I’m your mother. You can always tell me anything that bothers you. That’s my job to help you. And I’m great at it.”

Her joke made them both chuckle, but he didn’t look at her. He rubbed at the stained spot on the cup instead, but blindly so, unable to see the destruction of your lips over the edge of the porcelain.

“I don’t know… it’s a little weird,” he whispered, struggling to find the right words and hating that about himself. How it was so much easier to write things down than to speak out words. They felt heavy on his tongue, had a wrong taste in his mouth.

“Why? What happened? Did you two fight?”

“No… no, we didn’t fight.”

“What is it, then?”

“We… We’re sleeping together.”

Raine stared at her son with wide eyes, her mouth dropping open. He chuckled at her reaction; clearly, she hadn’t been expecting that…

“What? When? How? What?”

“You’ve asked that one twice.”

“Wait, I don’t understand… if you two are finally being intelligent and are together, why do you look so sad?”

“I’m not sad.”

She gave him a look that was silently saying ‘I’ve birthed you, do not lie to me’.

He looked away again, tried to ignore the finally part of her question.

“We’re sleeping together. We aren’t together.”

“Oh…”

She seemed disappointed, leaned her back against the counter.

“How long?” she asked, after a heavy and lingering silence.

“A few months.”

“And you’re not dating her?”

“No, we’re not dating.”

“But you’re hanging out with her during the day, and sleeping with her at night.”

“Yeah.”

He struggled to swallow, cheeks turned crimson.

“Why on earth would you want that?”

She was blunt, as usual, but there was so much love in her question. So much worry for her son. Andrew wasn’t fooled, she was direct because she cared too much to circle around the issue.

“I’ve never said that I wanted that,” Andrew admitted in a whisper, feeling tears rise to his eyes, but he blinked them away, clenching his jaw to hold them in check.

“Oh, honey…”

She rubbed his back, her movement soothing. He rolled his eyes.

“Mom, don’t… I’m okay.”

“Casually sleeping with your friend… that’s not a good idea, Andy. Of course, you’re free to do whatever you want. This is your life. And I’ll always be here to support you, no matter what. Still…”

She heaved a sigh, but her son remained silent, and so she went on.

“You are too generous when you love, Andy. Be careful. Take care of yourself. For once, take care of yourself, before you take care of her. Can you do that for me?”

He finally pulled your cup out of the water. Your lipstick was gone, there was only the perfect white of the porcelain left under his thumb.

“Don’t worry about me, mom. I’m okay.”

“I know how you feel for her. This kind of… arrangement… it won’t end well for you.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I agreed to this. I’m okay with us just being casual, with nothing serious happening between us.”

But one did not fool a mother so easily. She gave him a look that let him know she understood him better than he did himself. And he had no doubt she was right about that.

Still, he put down the cup by the side of the sink to dry, picked up another, and washed the tea away again.

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x fem!reader #hozier x y/n #hozier x you #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier series #series #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

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xoxo-ren-xoxo · 4 months

Text

Hermitcraft / Life Series Fic Recs

Because I love so many of them...

I'll split the fics into completed and updating fics, and try to only recommend currently updating fics (i.e., not abandoned). I'm going to write a little about why I like each fic and what the general vibes are - so this is also a kind of review I guess?

I've tried to @ the authors if they have a public tumblr. Sorry to anyone who didn't want to be tagged, I can remove any @ if you ask (or if I have embarrassingly tagged the wrong person). Anyway, enjoy, and I appreciate reblogs because I want as many people to see these fics as possible!!

This ended up being incredibly long so I'm putting a divider here. Click to keep reading!!! Also, fair warning: shipping ahead! Some fics will have mild sexual content, please read the tags if you are unsure <3

Updating Fics

I have already recommended Help Me To Breathe, lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart), and There Are Monsters Nearby in this post, so I won't explain why I like them a second time, but definitely check them out!!

Death's A Good Gig by @mawofthemagnetar is probably going to be finished by the time this post gets to you, reader, but I'm putting it here anyway. It's short and sweet, one of my favourite representations of Zedaph (or, Zedeath) I've read, and just a joy to experience. If you like grim reapers and discussions of unions, this one is for you. Also I need more Zedaph in my life.

Look, I'm Sorry, Please Stop Scaring Everyone by @cat-in-the-desert reminds me a lot of a particular TV drama I liked when I was younger, which followed a similar premise. This fic follows Mumbo (vampire) and Grian (ghost) as they get up to various housemate shenanigans and meet their local magic-expert and salesman Scar. This fic is fun, but still includes a nice amount of Feelings and hinted-at Angst which I really love. It's lighthearted, but never boring.

It Hurts To Hope by Inquillitory is my favourite of the "Grian crash lands into Hermitcraft and causes problems for everyone" genre. Seeing how many fics there are with that premise, I think that says a lot. It handles Grian's weird Watcher stuff really well. Honestly, I just want to know what happens next!

killing the boy in the tv by @raspberrystruck is like a sickfic on steroids. If you want Grian with so much past trauma he forgets how to function in society, this is basically the fic for you. I really love how hybrid traits affect the characters' interactions in this fic, and how everyone is kind of messed up because of the imbalance Grian brings. It is wonderfully descriptive in all the right places!

Love Me Like I'm Dead by @daniofcrows is such a gem. You know how hard it is to find good Xisuma whump? It's impossible. I absolutely love how Xisuma and Evil X are characterised in this, and I am obsessed with the unique take on hanahaki disease which I have never seen handled in this way before. The balance between flashbacks and present day is maintained wonderfully and I cannot wait to continue reading this one. Wow.

Oh, you wanted me to do a verse? by @bugbbear is... kind of indescribable. It's horror. It's comedy. It's the apocalypse. It's boatem. Scar eats someone. One of the most interesting and unique apocalypse stories I have read. Slowly updating but worth the wait, in my opinion. This one NEEDS more attention.

So Much For Stardust by @a-plethora-of-peters is basically one of my all-time favourites. Which is a damn good achievement seeing as I don't usually read ZITS fics. Like, ever. In this fic, Skizz is a human abducted and hurt badly by aliens, now recovering in the care of good aliens who don't know how 'sentient' he is. Every update of this one makes me smile, it is wonderful. I love how the characters are written and how the different perspectives are shown. It is just great.

Solar Waltz by @raspberrystruck and aroundtheclock is a brilliant and very very sad regression fic. I love fluffy regression fics as much as the next guy, but this one just... hits different. The hurt/comfort levels are off the charts. Grian is so damn cute the whole time, while also being harrowingly complicated and sad. I am so ready for whatever comes next.

Tango's Castle of Cards by @evilrat-sabre is the one where Tango is a BUG. He's just a little guy (horror). This one is so beautifully written, with poetry-type interludes and perspective changes that really make everything feel so much more impactful. Finding out your buddy is a murder bug isn't the easiest thing in the world. I love this so much.

Traveling Thieves {Dark Fantasy AU} (series) by @amethystfairy1 is basically one of the series of all time. I know I keep saying that but it really really is. I love a good fantasy au, and I love an au with hybrids even more. In this world, hybrids are treated like slaves, but it isn't all doom and gloom for the main characters of each installment. There is a lot of hurt/comfort and the different stories feed into each other in really interesting ways. I try to read as much as I can, though I've missed a few because my emails are buggy. Definitely worth reading these fics, especially since now they're all starting to come together!

Completed Fics

Solving Counting Sheep by @theminecraftbee might have rearranged my brain chemistry a little. Another strong contender for 'fics that inspire me to kill Grian', this time with a more concrete notion of "replacement". Three is my favourite fucked up living weapon. It's so rare to find Evo fics in this day and age, too. This fic had me immediately clicking on every update as soon as I got the emails.

Rescue Fire by @imaginethat0327 is one of the most unique takes on a fictionalised life series game that I have ever read. The whole concept is explained in a realistic and easy-to-follow way, as we learn what's happening with the characters. There are several brilliant storylines happening in this one, but my particular favourites are Jimmy & Tango, Joel, and of course Scar & Grian. This fic is full of whump and, well, read the tags, it isn't always pleasant, but those are my favourite things ever. Definitely worth checking out this fic and its currently updating sequel.

don't you know about me? by takenbadgering is a wonderful comedy of errors with just the right amount of angst for a realistic setting type of fic. If you enjoy polyamory miscommunications, rave aesthetics, kandi, school teacher dynamics, and a lovely blend between grumbo, cubscar, and mumscar, this is the one.

Eventually the Birds Must Land by @milo-hypno follows a polyam ship I would have never thought of, and I cannot believe how much I loved it. This married-as-friends fic premise is wonderful, and captures the main trio (Grian, Mumbo, Impulse)'s personalities so well, while balancing them with the incredibly terrifying descriptions of the Watchers and their power. There's a lot of angst here, but it is ultimately hurt/comfort to the maximum degree. I loved reading it as it updated. Yay for gay marriage!

From The Archives (series) by @sixteenth-days was the absolute inspiration for my own Comms AU, and I will never forget its influence on me. As someone basically unfamiliar with TMA, I thought this series might be hard to follow, but it was not! I read all 57 parts in the span of two days, and I think it altered my brain chemistry. Please read it, even if (especially if) you don't know anything about TMA. The Cleo and Grian storyline lives in my head rent free. I mean it. This is horror at its finest. Also there's an audio series of this fic being released rn, which is very cool.

SUPERCRITICAL by @masque-of-plague hits different. It is such a wonderful take on the superhero/HotGuy trope, and it gets so super dark at some points! This one really takes swings at it's fictional government, which of course I love, while at the same time building this brilliantly emotional relationship between Scar and Grian. I do enjoy a bit of enemies to lovers, but the actual plot mixed into the story makes this one extra special. It is thrilling, with action that I don't get to see too often! Great work.

I am weary with contending! is one of the mumscarian fics of all time. From 'this house has people in it'-type horror, to magic gone wrong, to childhood trauma, to attempted assassination, to gender fuckery, this fic has it all. Usually I don't go for convex siblings, but this one is good enough to get a pass from me. Amazingly detailed worldbuilding alongside a brilliantly creative story.

It Spreads by @foxxology may not count as a fic, actually. It's a comic. But it's posted on ao3 so it counts. I was obsessed with this one as it was updating, honestly. It rocked me to my core. The art is phenomenal. The writing is brilliant. I love sculk.

Luck of the sea by Sleepy_Duck is a lovely take on mermaid and human interactions, with Grian as a marine life conservator and Scar as a very neglected mer. This one takes us emotionally in all sorts of directions, and offers lots of hope for the future of the characters. I heavily enjoyed this fic - if you like mermaids and marine biology, check it out.

there are many downsides to being a marine biologist by donnerstag is another mermaid fic but with a pretty different vibe. First of all, it follows what I would consider a rarepair Doc/Martyn. Second of all, reading this as it updated was a thrilling experience that nearly made me cry at certain points. I love how the relationship builds in this fic. It is honestly amazing. The whole idea of experimenting on a sentient sea creature, learning that he can communicate, then losing funding and having to save him from being dissected?!?! It's crazy. I love it.

Thus concludes my fic recommendations. I hope you enjoy at least some of these, and consider reblogging to spread these wonderful fics around <3

#ben chats shit on the internet #hermitcraft #hermitblr #hermitshipping #fanfiction #fic recs #life series #trafficblr #traffic smp #trafficshipping #traffic series #traffic life #??? what else do i tag this uhh #long post

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saberlight1 · 10 months

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exit music (for a film) — coriolanus snow

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: slight tbosas spoilers, mentions of past abuse, trauma, violence, ptsd, established relationship, reader almost gets assaulted, Y/N usage, possessive!snow, a toxic ex attacks you, hints towards past sexual assault, standard ballad of songbirds and snakes warnings.

authors note: soo i was needing some comfort, and i realized there are not a lot of hurt & comfort fics for coryo!! this is a big injustice so i decided to write this. just a fair warning: this fic contains themes that can be hard for some people to read; including sexual assault and domestic violence. if you aren’t comfortable with these topics, feel free to go read some of my other coryo stories here! i hope you all enjoy this, much love<3.

masterlist

When you first laid eyes upon the white-haired boy, you didn’t think he’d become as important to you as he is now. He was assigned to be your mentor in the Hunger Games, and you were slightly relieved when you saw him standing at the train station, waiting for you.

Although you were both cautious of the other, coming from different, yet similar lands. But once you warmed up to him, you never wanted to part.

After the arena got bombed with you all in it, Coriolanus getting injured aand trapped, you stayed behind even if there was a clear opening for you to run— because you found yourself caring for him.

He had protected you so far, treating you with kindness and respect as he guided you through this hellish period in your life. So you had to do the same. Anyways, that was what told yourself when you risked everything to stay back and attempt to help him.

You brushed your hair behind your ears, ignoring the stinging pain in your side from being burnt as you started off into a sprint towards the boy who was crying out in pain, the pole he was trapped under catching fire.

“Coriolanus!” You called out as you neared him. “I’m here, I’m here.” You tried to soothe him as you tried to push the pole off of him.

He let out a sigh of relief at the sight of your face, and almost looked confused at your act to help him.

After a moment of struggle, you finally got the pole away from him, but it had got him badly. You immediately bent down to his level, your hands going to cradle his face softly, he leaned into it.

“Oh, are you alright?” You whispered, his shaky hands coming out to grip your wrists, rubbing softly in thanks. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner, I—” You did your best to explain, but you were cut off by a sharp grip on your arm, dragging you away from him. The boy reached out for you as you were taken away, only making your heart sink further into your stomach.

“No!” You thrashed in their hold, but to no avail. You watched your mentor lose consciousness from the pain as you could do nothing to help him.

And even though you only met him a couple days prior, you realized in that very moment how much you truly did care for him.

That was one of your earliest memories of Coriolanus, the next time you saw him after that was the first time your lips touched. From that night on, you became much more to each other than you ever would’ve guessed.

You sighed, moving from your spot in your window as reality set in. You hadn’t seen the boy in question in over month. He had promised to protect you, and he kept it surely. He cheated to get you out the games, and it ended with him locked up, as you liked to believe. People around twelve said that the Capitol had him killed.

You wished he had left you to die if it meant he’d be free and you the one in the grave. You were in misery in your district, missing your lover deeply. But, alas, you had no choice. And with all the fighting you did in that arena, you refused to give up now.

Even if it meant living without the one you craved most.

You grabbed your bag, another hard breath leaving your lips as you walked out the comfort of your small home that was in the outskirts of District 12. You liked it better that way, being away from it all. When you were younger you used to live down by the Hob, which was located right next to the Hanging Tree.

After years of hearing the grueling sounds of somebody loosing their life, the jabberjays in the wind repeating their loved ones cries, sometimes even their last words, you simply couldn’t bare it anymore.

So you left, opting to live out by the forest and the lake, giving you pockets of peace where you could forget it all. Or, at least the things you tried to forget. Some things seemed to haunt you forever.

You quietly walked into town to go get some food from the Mellark Bakery, your head down and gaze low the whole way. You could feel eyes on you— you always did when you came out of your home. You hated their stares, their judgement, that was the one thing that seemed to haunt you the most.

You finally looked up, meeting eyes with your ex boyfriend who was stood with his friends, a sly smirk being worn on his face. You internally shrank, your steps picking up as you tried to get closer to your destination.

Anxiety flooded your bloodstream as you heard loud, hard footsteps pick up behind you, sounding as if they were only inching closer and closer. Your eyes screwed shut as you felt like you were back in the arena again, your flight or fight instincts kicking in.

You tried to calm yourself down, repeating the words ‘It’s all in your head’ like a mantra under your breath. You had recently been plagued with the worst paranoia and anxiety, and the only reason of why you could think of was because of the time you spent in that godforsaken arena. Most of the time you felt as if you being hunted, all of the horror you felt when you were in that arena never leaving your nervous system.

Most days you had to talk yourself out of a panic attack, little things setting you off and sending you into a 20 minute state of panic. It was normal to you by now, and that is what you thought was happening.

Until a harsh grip yanked you out of your head, dragging you into an alley and pinning you to a wall. A loud yelp left your lips as you hit the wall, taking you a moment to process what was happening.

When you looked up, the pit in your stomach only grew further as an overwhelming sense of dread came over you. Your ex-boyfriend, Jay, was standing over you with that same soulless smile that used to haunt your dreams.

“My, Y/N. It’s been a mighty long time since I done seen you around here.” He taunted, his hot breath hitting your face, causing your eyes to screw shut as the past memories of him doing this very same thing to you swirled around your brain. “Thought after you got a taste of the Capitol.. of that Coriolanus Snow,” he said with disgust on his tone. “That you thought you were too good f’me. For Twelve.” He spat, harshly.

It was funny how with a few words he could turn you right back into that naive girl he manipulated all those years ago. You cowered in fear, refusing to look him the eye.

“Jay, please..” You whispered, your head turned away from him in an attempt to get as far away as possible. “Just let me go, please. I won’t come back around here, I swear.” You begged, tears filling your closed eyes as you fought for your composure.

“Nah, girl.” He whispered back, getting so close to you that you could feel his breath on your cheek. “I’m gon’ do what I want with you, like old times.”

Your eyes shot open his words. “No, God, please, no.” The tears fell from your eyes as you continued to plea with him.

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N.” He coldly smiled. “You used to be fun,”You felt his grip on your forearms travel back down to your hips, squeezing. The act left a bad taste in your mouth, making you want to throw up. You sobbed as you prepared yourself for what was coming, wishing you had just stayed cooped up in your home.

Your wails from the alley only increased in volume as his touch began to move downward. “Shut the fuck up,” He hissed, his hand slapping over your mouth. You prayed to whatever God was above, wishing he would just kill you now.

And just as his hand ghosted over the waistband of your skirt, the man’s touch disappeared all together, being replaced with the sound of someone hitting the floor.

You opened your tear-stained eyes slowly to find your attacker on the ground, and in a flash of throwing punches you saw that white hair adorned by the boy you adored so much.

You stood there in shock as you watched Coriolanus, who now wore a Peacekeeper’s uniform with a shaved head, beat Jay into a pulp. Tears still left your eyes as you slid down the wall, your knees coming up to your chest as you began to process what almost just happened to you.

Anxiety took your breath from your lungs as the panic finally began to set in once you realized you were safe. Your vision started to go blurry with tears as the will to breathe got harder.

“Hey, hey.” Coriolanus appeared in your line of vision, his hands wiping the tears from your face. “I’m here, you’re alright, baby.” He sighed before sitting down next to you and bringing you into his arms. You dug your head into the crook of his neck, hugging him close.

“Did he hurt you?” He asked, his hand on the back of your head, rubbing softly. He tried his best to comfort you, and tried to calm the fiery rage he felt when he saw that man on top of you.

“N—No,” You shakily got out. “He.. he tried to—”

Coriolanus’ head fell to your shoulder, hugging you just as tight as a sigh of relief left his lips. He had been walking by when he first heard your pleas with that man, and he dropped everything and ran at the sound of your voice. When he saw that man on top of you, the muffled sobs leaving your lips, your eyes screwed shut— God, he saw red. He would be lying if he didn’t say he didn’t miss you in the time you were apart.

Your body shook with your sobs, the boy’s heart hurting of the sight of you this upset. “Shh, you’re safe. I’m here,” He repeated, leaving kisses on your face, neck, and shoulders whilst he whispered sweet nothings in your ear in an attempt to calm you.

Once you somewhat calmed down you pulled back slightly, just to make sure he was real.

“Oh, Coryo,” You cried, your forehead resting on his. “Thank you, thank you.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he took in your state. He had never seen you like this, so scared, so vulnerable. The sight of it only made him bring you back into his arms, holding you impossibly closer.

“I’ve got you, my love.” He hushed your cries, leaving another kiss on your head. “No one’s gonna hurt you if I’m with you, it’s okay now.” You wrapped your legs around his waist as he stood up, you still in his arms. He placed you down slightly, his hands angling your jaw up so you’d look at him. “C’mon, let’s go to your house. Get you away from this piece of shit,” he pointed to the bloodied face of Jay who was unconscious on the ground. You nodded, trying to pull yourself together, your eyes flickering back to Jay to make sure he was still knocked out.

Sensing your anxieties, he pulled you back into his arms for once last hug. “Shh,” He rubbed your back. “You’re alright. He won’t hurt you, I won’t let him.” He comforted, leaning down to kiss your tears away. His movements made you smile as you sucked in a breath before you lead him out the alley and to your home.

Once you arrived and walked through the doors, it felt as if a weight was lifted off your shoulders. You were finally home, and you had Coryo with you.

Your heart felt full as it sank in that you were finally reunited with him, with Coryo. You got him back. A smile was on your face, despite your previous cries as you turned back towards the man who shared a similar smile to yours as he looked around at your home, and launched yourself into his arms.

He chuckled slightly, hugging you back like a delicate flower in his palm. After a moment of holding each other, you pulled back again, your hands cupping his cheeks. “I thought you were dead, Coryo. I thought.. oh, I thought they took you from me.” You sighed, leaning forward to connect your lips with his for the first time in months. You poured all of the longing, all of the tears, and emotion into that kiss, trying to show all your love with just an action.

He smiled against your lips, his hands on your hips being comforting as he leaned forward, tilting his head to deepen it. When the pair of you pulled apart for air, the smiles stayed.

“You should know by now that I’ll always find you, Y/N.” He joked, tucking hair behind your ear.

“Good,” You left one last peck to his lips, before going grabbing his hand and leading him to your bed. After all of the crying you had done in the past hour, all you wanted to do was lay with him.

He instantly knew what you were trying to do, a love-sick smile on his face as he laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest. You giggle as you settled in, your hand tracing patterns into his undershirt.

“I missed you,” He whispered after a while of quiet, looking down at you.

Blush dusted your cheeks as you rolled on your stomach to give him your full attention, your chin on his chest. “I missed you, too. Probably more.”

He smiled at your words, his hand coming up to grip yours lovingly, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. “You’re beautiful,” He said after a beat of silence, admiring you in the candlelight.

You smiled at his words. “You’re prettier, Snow.” Your gaze flickered down to your laced fingers, noticing his cut and bruised knuckles.

“Oh, Coryo,” You sat up slightly, bringing his hand with you to get a closer look. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize. That wasn’t your fault. I’m alright, baby, doesn’t even hurt that bad.” He tried to talk you down, a soft smile still on his face.

“Thank you, I mean it.” You met his eye. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t save me.” You swallowed the growing lump in your throat. “You always save me.”

It was his turn to blush now, as you bent down to kiss his injured knuckles softly. When you finished he grabbed your jaw softly, bringing your lips to his. He kissed you hard, just like he always did. It seemed like he tried to show how much he loved you with just one simple action, and trust, he accomplished that goal.

You hummed happily against his lips, letting him pull you down on top of him, your lips still connected. When you pulled back for air, he continued to cradle your face, peppering kisses along your jaw.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He whispered, his lips still leaving kisses. “I’ll always be here to protect you.”

You smiled, giggling as you snuggled closer to him. The pair of you had quieted down once again, sleep and comfort taking over your minds.

But you cracked your eyes open one last time, leaning up to leave kisses on his jaw. “I love you, Coryo.”

His eyes opened immediately as he stared down at you in shock, before a soft smile took over his face. “I love you, too.”

And just like that, all you had been longing for was under your fingertips, and you now thanked whatever God was looking down on you for bringing this man into your life.

#coriolanus my bae #coryo #coryo x reader #coriolanus angst #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #corio snow #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fluff #coryo snow #tbsoas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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another-random-paradise · 4 months

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Hey!! I was wondering if i could request what you think some housewardens would be like with a S/O who makes a lot of references? Whether it's anime, video game, pop culture etc etc, I don't mind which ones you choose as long as Idia is there!! Thanks :D ur underrated

A man of culture

Thank you so much for the request and the kind words, it really makes my day <3 I mostly kept the references vague, because as much as i love them, i am horrible at coming up with them- Hope you enjoy!

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Reader makes a lot of references

Characters: Idia, Malleus, Cater

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None that i can think off

Idia

-You're on a somewhat big bolder, looking down at him "It's Over, Anakin, I Have the High Ground!" He is down on one knee with a ring, Or at least he would be were he not way to socially anxious he is so in love with you it is unbelievable

-Because it would most likely mean that you not only make references, but would also understand his! He won't have to switch to normie language nor constantly explain everything!!

-I feel like he'd be a lot more comfortable around you, because he feels more 'normal' with you; he knows you won't judge him for his word choice nor his interested, because you do the same!

-Of course his social anxiety won't disappear completely, he is still anxious around you, especially because your important to him, and there might be some days were it's worse and needs time to himself, that of course won't change that he loves you and tries to be as open as he can be with you (Speaking from experience here lol)

-If you two are dating/really close, he'll let you still chill in his room, even during some of his worser days, just don't expect much conversation.

-Don't be afraid to look over and make a joke or reference based on what he's currently watching/playing, you'll make his day! He might not reply, but you can hear him laugh :)

-On his better days, chances are the two of you are having a date in his room, watching anime or playing video games in wich he definitely won't get competitive, noooo while eating snack and you're just almost exclusively talking in references, just going back and forth-

-In fact, not just during dates, during the few times he is outside it would be the same!.. much to your friends dismay, because most of the time, they can't understand a word you say. Cater might understand one or two from pop culture or if they're popular memes but that's about it

-Ortho also understands because he can just look it up! He very much approves of the two of you, because thanks to you, his brother is outside AND smiling for more than a few seconds, that's an absolute win in his book! :)

Malleus

-He doesn't understand a word you're saying, but he loves you anyway.

-Most of the time he just lets you say your references, happy you're comfortable enough around him to be yourself, even it confuses him!

-If the reference directly impacts the conversation though, or if one just happened to catch his interest. He'll listens very intensely to your explanation, almost scarily so! Not that you would ever find him truly scary <3

-You'd probably hold back from making to many references around him, not wanting to confuse him. When he finds out, he tells you not to. He wants you to be able to be your authentic self, and if he gets to ramble about gargoyles to you, then it's only fair that you get to make as many references as you want, no? He just needs some explanation some times

-That gives you an idea! You make a slideshow about the most common/popular, as well as your favorites, to show to him!.. Turns out he doesn't know what a slideshow is, but he is intrigued!

-So now you have a date teaching him how to make slideshows and help him make one about gargoyles! Now you have a slideshow date at least once a week, where you explain refrences and he talks about slideshows :)

-He is actually really happy about it, it shows your comfortable enough to be yourself around him and your slideshows lets him understand a bit of modern media, making it just a tad bit easier to get along with his classmates!

Cater

-He either gets all of them or none of them; it really depends on the type of references tbh

-If it's pop culture, then he would get most of it, you'd be the type of couple who flirts through references and memes

-Half of his tweets would just be stuff like "[Insert popular hot character] ain't got nothing on my s/o" and his fans have a field trip every time. He'd also sends you like a bunch of memes and "Happy spouse, Happy life" videos

-So if you do the same? He'd love you even more than he already does! He really loves all your references that he does get, they never fail to make him laugh! You two would just be out and about, till you spot a dog that can jump very high, "Oh wow, that dog can jump higher than super Mario himself." You look to your side and see cater giggling to himself, a genuine smile on his face

-And if you compliment him through references? Suddenly, he is very flustered!

-It might take him a while to accept the compliments though; You can't tell me he isn't actually insecure behind that influencer act. But once he does, he'll be a flustered mess every time, stuttering while trying to come up with an equally flirty comeback, BUT once he gets used to it, you two will absolutely go back and forth trying to out-reference-complement each other

-If it's anime or video game references, i feel like it'd be a bit different, since he would probably not get them unless they're really mainstream- I don't see him too invested in stuff like that

-He'll still encourage you though, because he adores the how you'll excitedly compare something to your favorite scene, or how monotonly you'll compare someones stupidity to a character that's known for their stupidity

-He loves it all, even those that he doesn't understand :)

This was so fun to write!! also, first time writing Cater, kinda nervous

Feedback is welcome, just be nice :)

hope you have a nice day/night!!

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j0elmill3r · 2 years

Text

Emotional Motion Sickness

Pairing - Joel Miller x Daughter!Reader, Ellie Williams x Miller!reader

Summary - Joel relives the worst night of his life when you are critically injured.

Warnings - Violence, blood, injuries, angst, sad Joel

Word Count - 2.5k words

Anonymous asked:

Hello! I wanted to tell you that I love your writing❣️ and by the way, I wanted to ask you for a petition for Joel miller x daughter! reader. Where his daughter is almost on her deathbed and has Deja vu with what happened with Sarah.

A/N - Okay what's going on? Why am I so motivated to write? Anyway, as always, thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it! Feedback, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!

Joel Miller Masterlist

You'd basically begged your dad to let you come with you, despite being 23 years old, Joel still very much babied you. You sometimes wondered if he still thought of you as the same person that you had been at the start of the apocalypse, an innocent child entirely dependent on her father - He made you think that he couldn't come to terms that you had grown up in this world, having had your entire childhood robbed from you. But if you were being totally honest, you didn't really know anything other than this world, and that's why you thought you bonded with Ellie so well, thinking of her as your younger sister - A bittersweet thought for Joel, since you were a younger sister, even though you had no older sister anymore and were now older than her, it was funny, you were now older than your older sister. He liked to think you and Sarah would share the same bond at that age that you and Ellie do now, even as adults.

You looked over to the bed Ellie lay in as you heard her giggle to herself - That stupid joke book, you thought to yourself, but hey, it was the little things in this world. She looked over at you.

"Hey, do you wanna hear a joke?" She asked you. You turned over on your other side to look at Ellie and nodded, knowing that you didn't really have a choice in the matter. "Okay, Why did the scarecrow get a promotion?" She started.

"I don't know, why did the scarecrow get a promotion?" You amused her. Ellie giggled to herself before continuing on with her joke.

"Because he was outstanding in his field," You shook your head as Ellie continued giggling. There was something oddly comforting in her jokes, they reminded you of the ones your dad used to tell you when you were little when he was trying to get a smile out of you when you were grumpy. "Your dad doesn't find my jokes funny." Ellie whined. You laughed and shook your head, laying on your back.

"To be fair, your jokes are pretty bad," You broke the devastating news to her, hearing Ellie gasp, and you smiled in amusement.

"I, am gonna go to sleep now and pretend that you didn't say that," Ellie told you. "Goodnight, traitor." She said, trying to sound as offended as she possibly could.

"Goodnight, Ellie," You told her. You tried to go to sleep but felt a settling unease in your stomach that you couldn't explain. You knew you could never shake off your gut feeling, which was why you couldn't sleep. You couldn't seem to switch off, your brain running at a mile a minute, unable to shake off the unease settling in your stomach. The day had gone too well, considering your dad's reunion with your uncle Tommy had gone to plan, there hadn't been some catastrophic fuck up at all during the day, somehow unsettling you. Then came a thud from the front door. Quietly, you crept down the hallway towards the door, your body and breath shaking with each step you took. Another thud. This time, you didn't know if it was coming from the door or your heart thumping in your chest.

Thud.

Crash.

Before you had any time to think, a runner came launching through where the door once stood on its hinges, then sprinting towards you. You screamed out for your dad before being body slammed to the ground by the runner, trying your best to fend it off and protect yourself from being bitten.

"Dad!" You screamed out, fear evidently clear in your voice. Joel woke up at your screaming, immediately reaching for his gun as he ran out of bed and to the room that you and Ellie were sharing, where the aforementioned girl lay sound asleep. Running down the stairs, Joel found you fighting for your life. Without hesitation, Joel fired two shots into the back of the runner’s head. You quickly shoved the body off of you and scrambled to your feet, running to your dad and wrapping your arms around him. Joel let out a sigh of relief as he held you.

"It's okay, look at me, Y/N," Joel demanded softly. You met your father’s worried eyes with your tear-clouded ones. "Did it bite you?" He asked you, in a serious, yet comforting tone. You shook your head in response, rubbing your eyes of tears. It went quiet for a minute, only for it to be replaced by that terrifying clicking sound. More gunshots went off. Bang. Bang. It didn't matter how many times you experienced a hoard of infected, the fallout never ceased to terrify you. Joel knew that, feeling that your breathing had become quick and shallow. "Okay, go and get Ellie, we need to get out of here, okay?" Joel had both hands on your shoulders, looking you in the eyes. This was when he remembered that you deep down, were still a scared little girl.

"Okay," You said quietly, your voice trembling as you looked out of the front door, more gunshots ringing off in the distance. You went back upstairs to wake Ellie up, giving her a gentle shake at first. "Ellie come on, we need to go," You told her. She groaned in response, turning to her other side. "Ellie, I'm being serious. There are runners everywhere." Suddenly, the girl found the energy to get out of bed, quickly jumping into her shoes and slinging her red zipper on. You both ran down the stairs and out of the house, into the open air where herds of the infected runners overtook the commune. You looked around frantically for your dad or uncle Tommy, sighing in defeat when you found neither, deciding to quickly grab Ellie's hand and make a run for one of the trucks you could both take refuge in until it blew over. However, on yours and Ellie's beeline to the row of trucks, you heard one last gunshot ring out.

You stopped dead in your tracks. Everything had gone silent, but then it all came back, the blood rushing to your ears, Ellie yelling out for your dad, your dad calling out your name. You didn't know why, had something happened? Was there something behind you? And then you realized, the blissful unawareness of the gaping hole in your stomach dissipated, and was now replaced with excruciating pain.

"Joel!" Ellie cried out, her eyes filling with tears as she watched you collapse onto your back, hyperventilating as you clutched at your bloodied stomach. "Hurry!" She cried panickily, kneeling beside you. Joel came running over, skidding onto his knees beside you.

No, no, no! Sh-sh-sh-sh, okay, you're okay. Y-You're okay, move your hand, baby. Move your hand.

Memories of your sister’s death came flooding back to him, only it was you in the exact same position, 20 years later.

"Y/N, hey, come on, it's okay, look at me," Joel said loudly over your hyperventilating. "I need to pick you up baby, you're gonna be okay," He promised you, putting his arms under you, wincing as you cried out in pain.

I know, baby, I know, I know, I know, I know! I know it hurts. All right. Don't look down, look up, look up. Come on, baby. You're okay, you're okay…

You continued crying in pain as Joel ran back to the house, carrying you in his now blood-soaked shirt. You'd gone pale, shaking as you grasped at your dad's shirt. Tommy followed in suit as you were taken back to the house that the three of you had been allowed to stay in for the night before continuing your trail to finding the fireflies. Tommy swiped everything off of the table so Joel could lay you down on it. The commune's doctor came in with a first aid kit, rushing over to you.

"I need everyone out," She said, looking at your dad, Tommy, and Ellie. Joel wanted to scream at her. No. He wouldn't leave you alone. "Now, please, or she's going to die." The three had never left a room so quickly, but for Joel, everything was going in slow motion.

"I know, I know, I know, I know, baby. I know, I know! I know this hurts. You're gonna be okay. All right… Baby, baby, baby, listen to me—I gotta get you up, okay? I gotta get you up. All right? You c'mon. You c'mon."

You grabbed his arm the same way that she did - as if it were the only thing keeping you alive at that very moment. Joel sat down on the stairs, dropping his head into his hands, leaving Tommy and Ellie clueless about what to do. Tommy knew what Joel was thinking, he still remembered the night of the outbreak, remembered holding you, only 2 years old at the time - 4 days shy of your 3rd birthday - as your sister slowly died in your father’s arms.

She continually gasped, both for air and in pain as Joel tried to pick her up.

"I know, baby! No, no. I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know! Tommy, help me!"

Tommy watched on helplessly, holding an increasingly distressed you. Although you weren't quite old enough to comprehend what was going on, you knew it wasn't good - You could hear your sister crying and gasping, but Tommy held you chest to chest, you didn't need to see what was going on.

"Joel," Tommy said tearfully, looking over at his oldest brother and oldest niece, who now lay limp in her father’s arms. Joel looked back to his oldest daughter.

"C'mon, baby girl. C'mon, baby girl, I gotta get you up. C'mon! C'mon, we'll get up! C'mon, baby girl, wake up! C'mon… come—please," Joel gave up begging, collapsing to his knees in tears. Tommy put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, and it was then that Joel realized how distressed you were. "Give her here," Joel sniffled, rubbing his eyes and nose as he held his arms out for you. He held you close as you continued sobbing.

"Daddy," You cried, clinging to your father as though he was your lifeline. He put his hand on your back, trying not to let the tears in his eyes spill over as he rubbed your back.

"It's okay baby girl, daddy's here, I've got you," He assured you, sensing your fear. "It's all gonna be okay baby girl, I promise." Joel didn't know who he was assuring, him or yourself.

The tension was thick was the commune nurse came out of the dining room, coated in a layer of your blood. She made eye contact with Joel, remorse written on her face.

Oh, no.

You had ended up staying longer in Wyoming than the three of you had hoped for, but there was no way it could have been prevented, given that you had been put on ordered bedrest for at least 3 days, but Joel had made you do 4 - Just in case, he had said. Ellie had been more clingy with you than usual, which had reminded you that despite how hardened she liked to act, that she was still only a child who had been unfortunate enough to be born into this world.

You knew the night had been traumatic for your dad, resurfacing painful memories of Sarah's death, you didn't know if your dad would have recovered if he would have lost you in the same way he had lost her. Joel sighed as he watched you limp into the kitchen, holding your stomach as you did.

"Good morning," You said quietly, hobbling over to the chair so you could sit down. Joel shook his head at you and handed you a glass of water, and your last antibiotic. "Thanks." You popped the pill into your mouth and took a swig of water, then swallowing both.

"You're supposed to be in bed," He gently scolded you. "Another day resting won't kill you." He said. You sighed and shook your head, you knew why he was being like this, he just didn't want to lose you, he had already lost so much to this apocalypse.

"Dad, I'm fine, honestly," You assured him, looking up at him as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "Just still a bit sore." You said, rubbing your stomach as you moved. You had to be careful of how you moved, just in case you tore your stitches.

"Please go back to bed, baby," Joel pleaded with you. You knew he wouldn't relent in trying to get you back onto bed rest, you sighed in defeat and nodded. "Thank you, do you need me to carry you up the stairs?" He asked you. You blushed in embarrassment as you nodded - what 23-year-old still needed her dad to carry her to bed? Well, obviously you did since your large intestine had a slight tear in it. You whimpered slightly as he picked you up, and you saw the guilt immediately flood onto your dad’s face.

"'M fine," You mumbled, holding onto him as he carried you up to his bed. You didn't question it, but accepted it for you were in need of some comfort, and if sleeping in your dad’s bed gave you it, then so be it. You saw an amused smile on his face as you looked up at him, quirking a brow in confusion. “What?” "What's' Forrest Gump's password?" He asked you, a small smile on his face.

"Huh?" You asked, confused at who this Forrest Gump character was.

"1Forrest1," He finished. Then you realized - Ellie's jokebook, and how he used to tell you dad jokes when you were sad to try and cheer you up. You giggled at the joke as you looked at your dad. "You have no clue who that is, do you?" Joel asked you, laughing as you did.

"Not one at all, old man."

#joel miller x daughter!reader #joel miller hbo #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams hbo #x daughter reader #x daughter!reader #x daughter #hbo the last of us #the last of us

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genshin-side-piece · 6 months

Text

Hazy Shade of Winter (Part 2)

Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Implied drug use, Mentions of alcohol, ]Non-Consensual Touching, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

A/N: Slightly (?) OOC Wriothesley. I think. I'm honestly not sure. But fair warning just to be safe. Follow up to Hazy Shade of Winter (Part 1)

There was no way to tell time in this place. Being miles under the surface meant no windows, which meant no real way to track the light. Wriothesley also didn’t seem that keen on clocks, or maybe, he wasn’t keen on them where you were concerned. It was a clever strategy, hiding something as essential as time from you. Without it, you couldn’t gauge how long it had been since Wriothesley had left you. Nor could you know when he would be back. It might be minutes or it could be hours. You could only guess. What you were certain of was that the time you had been allowed was enough to at least feel marginally better. The hangover you’d suffered from thanks to the alcohol and the unnamed stuff had begun to ease. Though you still felt like you’d been struck by a water bus. Eventually, you found yourself capable of leaving the bed long enough to clean yourself up. It was a relief to finally rid yourself of the gritty taste in your mouth. It made you feel somewhat human again, even if it did nothing to change your circumstances. When you were satisfied, you retreated back to the bed, pulling the sheets and light comforter over you. There you stayed, hiding in the darkness. It lured you into the false belief that you were temporarily safe from the storm that was to come. Given your first encounter, you silently hoped that when he returned, Wriothesley would just leave you be. That he would pick on the fact that you cared as much for his rules as you did him and in turn, he would just go. It wasn’t like there was a rush to explain them anyway. You were a captive with no means of escape. From your point of view, he had all the time in the world to explain his expectations for you. His insistence on doing so first thing, when you weren’t even coherent, betrayed the cool facade that he had maintained since. He was excited. He was eager. No amount of sarcasm or dry humor would ever be able to hide that.

Those emotions further betrayed him upon his eventual return. Wriothesley tried to seem amicable, at least that’s what you thought. His true tone was muffled thanks to the blankets. You really didn’t care anyway. You only hoped he would get the message and leave. He didn’t. Instead, he ripped the blankets away from you, tearing away the illusion of safety you felt you had. “Still sleepy are we?” The wry tone in his voice did nothing to help. Nor did the tray of food he had brought with him. The sight of questionable sausage and what you thought was porridge made your stomach lurch. You tried to look at anything other than him or the tray; the walls, the ceiling, the door he had left open. Wait. Your eyes went back to it. The door, Wriothesley had left it open when he had come in. Either he was confident you wouldn’t try anything or he was testing you. It really didn’t matter. The proverbial door was open and you were prepared to take it.

You only gave the disgusting excuse for food one more glance before you threw it back in his face. Literally. Your hands came up in one swift motion, smacking the tray out from under him. You barely had time to register the way the light reflected off the porcelain bowl as it flew at Wriothesley before you made a break for it. Again with both hands, you gave him a hard shove, throwing him off just enough to squeak by and make a break for the open door. Around you, silverware clanged as it hit the floor. Glass and porcelain shattered leaving little cuts on your exposed skin, and a very distinctive grunt followed you as you desperately tried to get away. Wriothesley’s hand in your hair ended any hope of that coming true. You hadn’t even made it a handful of steps when the force of which he pulled you back ripped a scream out of you. One moment you were vertical. The next you were facing the ceiling, back pressed firmly into the lumpy mattress as Wriothesley snatched a hold of one of your wrists. “Oh” He let out a dry laugh, that same dangerous glint returning to his eyes. “You want to fight do you? Well-” With his free hand he reached down, detaching the cuffs from his belt. “Let’s fight.” One look at them told you his intentions. With a garbled scream, you kicked at him again. This time though he was ready. Wriothesley maneuvered his hips between your flailing legs. The best you could do was smack him square in the ass with your calf. An action he seemed to enjoy, based on the smirk he gave you after you landed your first strike. “Give it to me.” Meaning your other hand. His tone was flat, expectant, and generally uninterested. To your horror, your escape attempt had done little to rile him up. Instead, he patiently held out one hand, while the other kept a grip on the wrist he had since locked in his handcuffs. “You’re already going to be punished for refusing your food. It’s only going to get worse for you if I have to reach under you and get that hand myself. Do yourself a favor and give it to me.” You still refused, vehemently shaking your head no. It was a foolish move on your part. You were all too aware of that. The smart decision would be to cooperate with him. To obey him this one time in the hope that he offered you some form of clemency. That wasn’t the decision you made though. Instead, you chose to refuse. You chose to fight. Two things you had been denied thanks to how he’d had you abducted. Two things you were all too prepared to give him in spades. All things considered, It was no less than he deserved. Wriothesley could only sigh at your refusal. He almost managed looking mournful for a moment, but it was short lived. The cocky smirk returned before he could finish his next statement. “You really want me to be the bad guy, don’t you?” Your response was to try to tuck your arm even further behind you, cementing your choice to disobey him rather than concede. “Foolish.” He clicked his tongue. “I suppose you’re really no different than the rest. Seems you’ll just have to learn this lesson the hard way.” There was only a brief shrug of his shoulders before Wriothesley finally followed through on one of his threats. All it took was one pull.

You screamed again, the metal of the cuff around your one wrist digging into your flesh to an extreme degree as he drug your entire body off the bed. The pain that shot through your body was horrific. It felt like he was trying to rip your arm off from the force alone. Nevermind thin cuts and bruises left by the steel he had locked around your wrist. It was a foregone conclusion that he was going to get what he wanted. The force from the pull had wrenched what control you had away from you. Your body flailed in a tangle of limbs as you tried to catch yourself from falling face first onto the metal floor. He caught you, barely, but he made sure that you didn’t land into the pool of gray gunk that was congealing on the floor. Instead, you were wrenched up by your waist long enough for your other wrist to be captured in the steel of his cuffs. From there you were unceremoniously dumped onto a clean part of the floor and left to wait.

There was no quip that followed your escape attempt. No snide comment or even the faintest hint of judgment. Just a cold glare as he removed the longer chain from his outfit. The rattling bounced off the metal walls, causing you to flinch at the noise. While your headache had temporarily subsided, the piercing noise of metal echoing off of metal seemed to bring it roaring back. You whimpered, but only enough so he wouldn’t hear you over the jostling of his outfit. Thankfully he was kind enough to be quick about it, but only because removing the offending chain was easy work for him. The fact that he was punishing you to the point that you felt your ears would bleed was an inconsequential detail. You half expected him to say you deserved it. “I’ll only say this once.” He rotated the chain until he had an end in each hand. “Do as I ask. Don’t make me use force again.” Implying you wouldn’t like what would happen. Considering your present circumstances, you were fairly sure you wouldn’t. He’d already had you kidnapped and personally manhandled you without much provocation. To push him much further, at least at present, might result in a situation that was altogether unpleasant. “Hands” He gestured for you to lift your cuffed hands, which after a slight hesitation, you did. It wasn’t a leap to figure out his next move. One end of the chain found its way around the connecting link of the cuffs, while the other stayed firmly in his hand. “Up.” He moved his hand and you half expected another gesture, but instead he held it out to you, offering it as a means of assistance should you need it. An entirely gentlemanly gesture, from a brute of a man. You ignored it, awkwardly pushing yourself onto your wobbly legs. The effort to right yourself was a struggle. The failed escape attempt and subsequent fight after had drained what little energy you had woken up with away. Your legs felt no better than jelly. Standing on them or worse trying to walk on them would require a specific level of effort that you weren’t sure you possessed. The decision to not eat was a poor one. Even if the food was revolting, you probably should have seized the chance to get something in your aching stomach. At least then you could still the shaking that was quickly working its way across your entire body.

Wriothesley didn’t give you time to fret over it nor did he wait for you to fully steady yourself. The brief show of gentlemanly behavior was forgotten almost as quickly as it was offered. He yanked the chain hard, dragging you through the doorway and into the empty room beyond with little trouble or care. You stumbled, falling to your hands and knees against the rough metal floor, the sharp edges of the cold metal cutting into your exposed flesh even more. The sting from the metal biting your skin made you wince, not that Wriothesley noticed. He kept walking, pulling the chain tighter the further away he got. The silent demand from him was that you keep up; whether it was by walking or crawling. He didn’t seem to mind which. He only wanted you to follow until he ordered you to stop. Then he would move on to whatever humiliation he had planned next. Your cheeks burned at the very thought of it. How dare he. You had half a mind to repay his rough behavior with some of your own, but you weren’t nearly as strong as him. Given his size, you doubted you would be able to shift him. At most, you pulling on the chain or refusing to go any further would be a mild jerk against his hand. An inconvenience for him at worst. Hardly worth the energy or the struggle considering your current predicament.

“Rule number one.” His voice drew you from your thoughts, pulling your attention back to him. He strode to the center of the room, bending down to loop the chain through a d-ring that was bolted to the floor. “You are the master of your own treatment here.” You stared up at him through the fringe of your lashes as he stood to his full height. “Call it irony” He shrugged. “But I don’t like the idea of punishing you. It took quite a bit of work on my part to bring you here. I even paid extra for the deluxe delivery.” Were you supposed to be impressed by that? It was laughable to consider that he expected you to fall all over yourself and thank him for taking such care with your abduction. Yet one look at him told you, that was exactly what he wanted, or rather he expected your compliance as a result of his supposed care of you. A trade. A bargain. An insult. In your mind, if he had the nerve to kidnap you, then the very least he could do was see to your safety during said act. Anything afterwards, like now, was a different transaction. Something you weren’t entirely interested in participating in unless it involved your unconditional release. “So bearing that in mind, I suggest you consider your actions or rather your reactions in the future. I don’t want to get rough with you, but as you’ve seen, I’m not above doing it.”

“My actions?” He didn’t bother to hide his surprise when you finally broke your silence. “I’m sorry, I can’t recall ever having someone kidnapped for any reason, let alone to satisfy my own vanity.” He was quick. Despite his surprise, Wriothesley was able to volley a response back to you or rather he tried too. “That’s not-” You scoffed looking away for a moment. Any excuse or justification would go as far as his own lips. You didn’t want to hear them. You didn’t care about them. Clearly, based on your own feelings, they didn’t matter. Nothing could justify what he had done to you, nor would it justify anything that would happen in the future. You could spend a thousand years with him and still call him a stranger. Above you, he let out a long breath. Your refusal to hear him had given him pause. You could tell those cold eyes were still firmly fixed on your face. He was intently watching every single thing you did. You knew he was. When you finally decided to turn back, your eyes met his. They had never left you. He merely traded the view of your face for the back of your head and vice versa. Beneath the surface, you could see a myriad of emotions swirling within his eyes. He wasn’t as confident as he appeared. Wriothesley had worries, he had concerns. There was even what you felt was a twinge of doubt if you looked long enough.

In turn, his eyes read and judged every emotion, every expression that you didn’t bother to hide. They saw your anger, your confusion, and even your own fear. You hadn’t fully acknowledged it yet, but you were every bit afraid as you were angry. In the span of a night, your life had become the property of someone else. He could do anything he wanted with it. You were powerless in stopping him from doing anything he wanted. Your current predicament was proof of that. “Look, I-” He let out another sigh. “I don’t want our first true interaction to happen this way. Please don’t be like this.” Please don’t fight. That’s what he meant. Just submit to his wishes and desires. Don’t make him beg, don’t make him force you. A not so impassioned plea from a man who was a stranger to you. He was trying his best to placate the fury that was radiating off your body, but the wound he had inflicted with his actions was far too fresh for it to work. “I’m happy to make nice with you. I’ll chalk the escape attempt up to the fact that you’re still adjusting. Perhaps I was being a tad unrealistic with how long it would take you to work through everything. Though-” There was a long pause after that. “in truth I would like an apology. You nearly burned half my face off with hot porridge.” He gestured to the side of his face as some sort of reference. You silently stared back, wishing you had. There was a chance you would have gotten away or at the very least put some much needed space between you and him. “Come on. I’m giving you an easy out here. Just apologize and we can move forward. It will make things easier for us both if you do. Believe me when I say that I would rather spend the limited time I do have with you doing anything else but fighting with or punishing you.” Swallowing, you silently noted that he was in for a rude awakening. “I would rather be at home, in my own bed. But we can’t always get what we want, can we?” A chill washed over the room. You weren’t sure if it was him or you, but you felt it all the same. “Instead I find myself at the mercy of a lunatic!” Your voice shook as the fear began to overtake your anger. The lack of food was fueling your desperation, which in turn was driving both your fear and your anger. You could feel yourself slowly losing control. It was a vicious cycle, which was reaching its conclusion at a rapid place. “I have no intention of playing this sick game of yours.” His entire body sagged in what you could only guess was disappointment.

“God-” He rubbed his scared eye with his free hand. “I truly didn’t think you would be this stubborn.” His hand fell back to his side as he stared at you with fondness. “It’s cute though. I like someone with a little bite to them. Makes things interesting. Still, I was hoping you would get the message right off the bat. But, if you insist we spend this time this way, then so be it. I will be all too happy to give you what you are so eager to earn.” He wrapped a length of chain around his hand, tightening what was left between you and him, pulling your arms towards the d-ring. You had to inch forward on your knees, just to ease some of the tension in your shoulders. “I will, out of the kindness of my heart, forgive earlier. Before I left for my meeting I did tell you that you could be upset with me and in that spirit, I suppose you were only doing as you were told. I can’t fault you for it.” He wrapped another length around his hand, pulling the chain even tighter and you ever closer. “Just now though.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he silently recalled what had just transpired. “I’m afraid I can’t forgive that. Refusals, altercations, and escape attempts are strictly forbidden from here on out. As I mentioned, you are the master of your own treatment. Behave and we can co-exist peacefully. I might even consider special privileges if I’m convinced you’re sincere in your behavior.” Refuse him or fight him or even try to escape him and you would end up where you were now or possibly somewhere far worse.

In retrospect, you knew your current predicament was fairly mild compared to the ways he could make you suffer. Humiliation, starvation, degradation, and pain were only the first steps. There were bones that hadn’t been shattered, flesh that hadn't been marked, limbs that hadn’t been removed. You and he had a long way to go before you reached the point of no return, and that’s if you ever got there. In the back of your mind, you knew you wouldn’t last that long. He would break you long before you ever got to that point. “Am I being clear?” “What-” Tears stung at your eyes for the first time, closing your throat and forcing you to momentarily choke on your own words. You didn’t want to admit defeat so easily, but what other choice did you have? This was his world. Even if you managed to get free, no one within the fortress or outside of it would help you. He could easily send the guardes or even himself after you. The general population of Fontaine wouldn’t question why a fugitive from the fortress was being hunted. The assumption would be you were just another escaped convict. A threat that the Duke himself felt he needed to personally handle.

It was only then that you realized your disappearance probably hadn’t even been noted. It had been the weekend when you had gone out. Work had been tiresome and the promise of a day off meant you had the chance to blow off some much needed steam. With that in mind, there would be no one to miss you if you didn’t show up the next day. Same for the day after. By the time you did have to return to work, Wriothesley would have had plenty of time to cover your tracks. He could make your disappearance seem quite ordinary. Maybe you had run away to Sumeru, you had been talking about it or perhaps that serial killer got you. Wouldn’t that give your co-workers something to talk about? Maybe no one would even notice. People came and went from your place of work everyday. It wasn’t that unusual for someone to be there one day and gone the next. The reality of that hit you harder than the sedative had. No one could help you. No one would save you. Not a single soul, outside of those involved, knew you were here. No one, outside of the man standing above you, cared.

You choked back a sob as that information sunk in. It was loud enough and perhaps distraught enough that Wriothesley drew his brows together in genuine concern. From your vantage point you could see he wanted to check on you, to ask if you were alright, but he held his tongue. He just stood there, staring at you as hot tears spilled freely down your cheeks. “What do you want?” A pregnant pause followed that. As if the answer was stupidly obvious to everyone, except you.

“I would think that is rather plain.” You looked up at him again through tear stained lashes, sniffling as he moved closer. “I want you.” Your throat bobbed, thickly swallowing the rising panic that was filling your body. You racked your brain, trying to think of any reason as to how or why this happened. How had an excuse me, an introduction, and have a nice day translated into you being in chains at his feet? The encounter between you had only lasted seconds. In your own mind, there was no feasible way a chance meeting could have this result, unless the meeting itself wasn’t by chance.

Your eyes flew back to his face as your mind began to put all the puzzle pieces together. Chocolates, flowers, perfumes, and even lingerie had been sent to you in droves over the course of the year. Your mind whirled, suddenly recalling all the other strange or odd occurrences that had happened, especially in the last few weeks or so. The feeling of eyes watching you everywhere you would go. Strangers scribbling notes when they thought you weren’t looking. Your clothes, namely your underwear turning up missing every time you took your things to the laundress. The door to your apartment being unlocked despite you remembering that you had locked it. God. Your eyes got wider as the full picture came together. A year. Oh god, he had been watching you for a year. “Look who finally figured it out.”

On instinct, you tried to pull away, but his foot slamming down on the chain brought that plan to a decided halt. Your body jerked with the chain, a frustrated whine escaping your throat as you continued to struggle against the cuffs. Escape in this case was utterly futile. You knew that. The chain that was connected to your wrists was firmly in his hand. Even if you managed to get away from him, the room you were in only had one visible door; the chamber from which you had just come. The exit you could not see, the one that would take you to the rest of the fortress was almost assuredly locked. Then there was the fortress itself. A maze of locked doors and heavy bars. If the building itself didn’t stop you, then the guardes most certainly would. All Wriothesley needed to do was raise the alarm and he could have your right back where you were now in a matter of minutes. “You know-” Your eyes met his again, noting the hints of malice that were beginning to swirl in the icy blue depths. “I never believed that you didn’t fully know.” He leaned down, resting an arm on his thigh as the slack portion of the chain rattled in the background. “I told myself that no one was that unobservant of their surroundings.” A soft chuckle slipped past his lips. “I’ll be damned if you didn’t prove me wrong. Seems like all those nights where my anxiety kept me awake were in vain. You had no clue, did you?” He furrowed his brow, gently chuckling again. “Did you ever think to ask? Did you just assume someone was sending you gifts and that would be that?” You wanted to slap the smirk off his face, maybe leave another scar while you were at it. “Of course I asked.” Since you couldn’t slap him, you tried to add some venom to your voice, hoping it would compensate for your lack of movement. “I spoke to the couriers and the stores. No one knew. They all said the same thing. All the orders had come with the necessary payment by mail via an unmarked envelope.” There had been no indication of where the letters had originated from. The only thing worth noting about them was the simple stationary on which they had come. The paper lacked the ornate embellishment that was associated with the upper class, yet the paper itself was of a high enough quality that you could discern the sender had money. That theory had been further proven based on the gifts he had sent. Everything you had received was from the finest shops in the Court and of the highest quality. They had all cost well above what the average admirer could spend. That had told you that your devotee was at least well to do. Wriothesley, as the Duke of Meropide, was certainly that. “I thought that when my admirer was ready, they might be normal and present themselves properly.” Not have you abducted and brought to the bottom of the sea. “Because that would have gone oh so well.” He tilted his head slightly. “I’m sure that I’m exactly what you were expecting, hm?” He wasn’t.

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to ignore the obvious. Wriothesley had been the last person you had been expecting. Worse though, was the thought of the Administrator of the Fortress coming to your door for no explicable reason. Even with flowers in hand, the idea was a terrifying one. The Duke of Meropide wasn’t exactly a celebrated figure in the eyes of the citizens of Fontaine. While his rise to prominence certainly made him an enigma, the few that knew what he looked like, tended to avoid him at all costs. To see the Duke or any officers of the law on your street was often a sign that trouble was soon to follow. If you had known that Wriothesley was your admirer or if he had shown himself to be interested in you in a normal way, it was entirely likely that you would have run. Even knowing that you had committed no crimes in the eyes of the law, the risk of having him so close was one you didn’t want to take. The goal of every citizen was to avoid the fortress and all of those associated with it. You weren’t excluded from that. “See the dilemma?” Your first reaction was to fix your eyes to the floor, while you felt the first twinges of embarrassment creep their way up your neck. “Kid- kidnapping isn’t exactly a viable solution.” You raised your eyes to him again, trying to make that sound as harsh as possible. “Neither is this, for the record.” He just laughed. “If we’re adding things to the record, then throwing hot porridge in the administrator's face isn’t exactly the smartest of moves. Neither is disobeying my orders or trying to escape.” You squirmed, stupidly pulling on the chain as your own frustration spiked. “I’ve done nothing wrong!” He laughed again. This time, his laughter echoed off the walls, hurting your ears.

“You hadn’t done anything wrong.” Until you threw the food in his face, and kicked him, and disobeyed him, and tried to escape. “I don’t think I need to list the crimes for you. I’m sure you’re aware.” Crimes? Your mind whirled at the very mention of the word. It was inconceivable to think that you had done anything wrong.

Fresh tears stung at your eyes as the frustration his words caused you, washed over you. No. It couldn’t be. You were innocent. He had abducted you. He had tricked you. You weren’t his prisoner. “But as the administrator of the fortress, it is at my discretion on how you are punished.” Wriothesley stood to his full height, reaching for something in his pocket. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t have time to deal with that.” He produced a medium sized lock, which was promptly attached to the chain and the d-ring, forcing you to hold your position at his feet. “I have more meetings. I suppose for now-” He mockingly thought about it for a moment. “Your punishment can be that you get to think about how you’re going to make it up to me or maybe, you reconsider your attitude. If not, then perhaps I’ll have to get slightly more strict with you.” From your vantage point, you watched his eyes drift away from you, focusing on something behind you. There was only one thing that could be; the room you’d woken up in, the bed. “Seems cruel to consider.” Your eyes went wide at the thoughts that were running through your head. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. “I’d hate to do it.” Wait. “But maybe I was too nice at the beginning.” No. “Maybe I’ll just leave that with you though.” His focus came back to you. “Based on your expression, you get my meaning. Persist on your current path though-” His tone developed a steely, authoritative hardness to it that you didn’t like. “And perhaps I’ll go against my better judgment and make you earn things like a bed and hot food, at least until I can be assured that you don’t need too. That’s if I can be assured at all.” You blindly shook your head as you realized this man intended to keep you indebted to him for the rest of your life. “No? Well-” There was an odd chuckle that followed that. “Tell you what.” A long pause stretched out between you. He waited, oh so patiently for you to finally look up at him before he opted to continue. “I might be inclined to go easy on you. If you decide you’re ready to behave.” If. It had the same inflection as before, though this one possessed more doubt than its predecessor had “Let’s test the waters. I’ll give you something easy, something simple. I bet you couldn’t take more than that, could you? By now, I’m sure you’re feeling a little drained.” There was a brief moment where you thought to challenge him on that. Drained wasn’t the right word for it. Exhausted maybe? Famished and dehydrated; absolutely. In your mind though, you believed you could take all he threw at you and more, but your cramping stomach and oncoming dizziness told you otherwise. Your body had been taken to its physical limit. It couldn’t handle anything more; not without getting food into you first. “Let’s try… you giving me a smile again. That seems like a simple thing. I’ll even sweeten the deal. Give me a smile and I’ll bring you a little something to eat. I bet you’re pretty starved by now. Some fresh bread or maybe even some fruit, surely that’s enough to get me a smile?” It shouldn’t have been. In any normal circumstance, it wouldn’t have been. Had you been back in the court, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day. But here, in his world, you didn’t have that luxury. Here he could determine every detail of your life, including when you ate next. Considering you had already gone a day, you briefly wondered how cruel he could be. Wriothesley ran both hot and cold. His reactions shifted between the two with frightening regularity. It made him difficult to read in a situation like this, which was why you had to consider your answer carefully.

There was no winning here, you knew that. Wriothesley had stacked the deck against you long before your kidnapping and arrival. Now he’d dealt you the losing hand he’d prepared for you. If you refused, would he cave due to his own feelings for you and bring you a meal anyway or would he demand an even higher toll for your next meal? Would he let you starve if you refused to pay that price? How many meals would he allow you to miss before the inevitable happened. How many could you stand to miss before you yourself gave in? Upon further review, a smile was easy. It was simple. It wouldn’t tax your fatigued state any further. You could just give it to him to make him go, but again that carried risk. Once meant always. Always meant forever. There would never be a time where you would be able to refuse him without running the risk of being punished. One frown could send you right back to where you were. “Well?” You didn’t want to.

“I-“ You drew in a slow steadying breath, trying to calm the emotions that were running through you. At this stage, you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you wanted to lunge at him and you wanted to do it, all at once. You couldn’t though. Even if you felt like you were drowning, you couldn’t give in just yet. For now, you had to remain in control. “I hate you.” Above you, he released an incredulous scoff.

“Believe me, I’m aware.” His nonchalance about this whole thing only served to irritate you further. He was acting as if everything that had happened between you was a normal thing. As if he kidnapped and manhandled and humiliated people everyday.

“So why should I smile at you if I hate you?” You swallowed as your eyes found his again. He towered over you, giving the answer very little thought.

“Because I asked you too.” You hated how his tone sounded almost thoughtful. “Let me be perfectly clear, unless the world is about to end or you are deathly ill, I will be your sole companion here. That means you will rely on me for everything.” And the fruits of that reliance were determined based on how well behaved you were. In his words, you were the master in your own treatment, which meant you decided your own fate. “We can keep on this path, if you like. I can play the mean warden just as easily as I can the affable fellow. It makes no difference to me how we get there, just so long as you understand we will get there in the end. One day those defenses of yours will crumble and that anger you currently feel will give way to something else.” Was he implying you would fall in love with him? “It happens to everyone down here. Some get angry, some are perfectly fine with it.” “I will never be fine with it or this.” He smirked again, a gentle spark of mirth dancing in his eyes. “We’ll see. I tend to have a pretty good handle on people, especially when it comes to how they’re going to react to certain things. You’re no exception.” His head tilted slightly. “But keep telling yourself whatever you need to keep that fire in you burning. I’m beginning to find your anger endearing. You’re cute with your face all scrunched up like that.” He chuckled, his smirk growing larger when the sound only served to make you angrier. “Maybe I’ll lock down the pankration ring one day, just so we can spar. It might be fun to turn you loose for a little while, if for no other reason other than to get my hands on you. But I suppose that depends on one thing?” You let out a heavy breath, grinding your teeth in mild frustration. “What?” “Will you smile or not?”

#wriothesley x reader #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley genshin #yandere wriothesley #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #genshin #genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin fanfic #yandere genshin impact fanfic #genshin fiction #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fiction

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takami-takami · 1 year

Text

I Think I Love You.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. fluff.

warnings— gn!reader. keigo is in denial. tooth rotting fluff.

It takes Keigo eons to realize that he loves you.

As intelligent as he is, for every intuitive observation that turns the tides of his hero missions, he isn't the best at analyzing his own feelings. He prefers to put his emotions in a box, to scribble a smile on the lid, lock it with the heaviest brass he can find, and call it a day.

He's handling everything perfectly, thank you very much.

But when he tries to put his friendship with you in that box, you keep opening the damn lid. You keep crawling out, perching yourself on top and blinking up at him. Frustrated, he attempts to shove you back down with frantic hands, using all his weight; but for the first time in his life, it just isn't working quite as it used to.

So after months of coughing and telling himself his chest aches around you because you're such good friends, of explaining he's obsessed with you like you're a goddamn love interest in a movie because you're just so platonically compatible, of practically scribbling your name in his notepad with little hearts around it during commission board meetings, he finally flops face first on his bed and groans.

He's got a crush.

Are crushes supposed to make you think about owning a cozy cabin somewhere quiet together, where he can listen to your breathing without any distractions? Do other men fantasize about what they'd write for their wedding vows at some flower-adorned, ivory altar when they think about their crushes? He hopes they do. Maybe then, he could write this stupid tightness in his chest away as some childish, grade-school crush. That's a lot easier to deal with than love.

Yeah, this is a crush. Everybody gets those, right? He can work with that.

It comes to a boiling point on a too-quiet Saturday evening. You're practically sitting in his lap as you watch some television show he's just a bit too distracted to follow. It's not weird that his arms wrap themselves around your front, and it's not weird that his chin finds its resting place on your right shoulder.

"Oh my god, I love this actor," you nestle back against him snugly. "He's so cute, it's not even fair."

Keigo's jaw clenches.

"Hmm. I don't see it."

Narrowing his eyes, he tries to soothe himself by analyzing the wretched actor's features. He already knows your type— he knows you so well, better than anyone could ever hope to, he seethes— but it helps to remind himself. He's blonde, lithe yet muscular, with a patch of stubble to boot.

Keigo does it better. His arms tighten around you as he places a platonic kiss on your shoulder to ground himself.

The next day, he decides to pick up an extra early patrol shift. He won't be sleeping, anyway.

If Saturday's the boiling point of the kettle that is his emotions, then Sunday's the fever pitch. The screeching whistle becomes impossible to ignore.

You slept over at his place that night— which is, again, not weird in the slightest— so he's greeted by the sight of you when he walks through the doors of his dimly lit bedroom after work.

But this time, it's not a comforting sight. His heart rate slams suddenly, nearly knocking him to his knees.

You're fussing over your appearance in the mirror, putting together the finishing touches on your look for the gala Keigo (should not have) invited you to tonight. Your jewelry clinks with your movements, echoing off the walls of his head and knocking each thought out somewhere he can't reach.

When you turn to meet his gaze, you don't mention the way his mouth is hanging open ever so slightly.

"Oh! You gonna get ready soon? We have to leave in—"

"Can I kiss you?"

The words spill from his lips before he even has a chance to cover them with his hands, to shove them back down his throat. The bubbles of regret start to well up in him, thrums of panic making him scramble to take it back. He shouldn't, he really shouldn't, this isn't, he's not meant for, you're too—

You throw your arms over his shoulders as you honest to god laugh.

His hitched "mmph" when you plant your lips against him melts your heart. Shaky palms find their place against your hips, finally having the permission they've begged for all this time.

"Fucking finally," you sigh.

#hes so cuteee #felt fluffy today #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha x reader #🖋 writing #🍧 sugar #hawks imagine #mha imagines #bnha imagines #keigo takami comfort #hawks comfort

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bri-cheeses · 4 months

Text

Letters and Pens - Part 3

Barty missed the first period of classes. Evan tried not to notice or care, but he failed miserably. History of Magic was simply brutal without his best friend to mess around with, sharing looks and whispering to each other as Professor Binns droned on and on in that boring voice of his. Evan wanted to stab himself in the eye by the time the bell finally rang, but he refrained. Just barely, though.

Barty showed up after the first period of potions. He practically crashed through the door, a cocky grin on his face and his bag thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. Slughorn muttered disapprovingly but took no further action, and Barty stumbled his way to Evan’s side.

Evan kept his gaze on the potion in front of him. Barty had left him alone for a significant amount of the morning, and he could handle the silent treatment for several minutes.

“Evs,” Barty said, and Evan could hear the grin in his voice.

He didn’t look up to see it, though, still firmly resolved to ignore him for a little while.

“Evan,” Barty tried again.

Barty moved closer to Evan, peering over his shoulder to see what potion had apparently captured his attention so thoroughly.

��Rosie?” Barty turned his face toward Evan, confusion written all over it.

Evan finally looked, and—no. Absolutely not. They were way too close, Barty having already been extremely close from peeking over his shoulder . And that was before Evan had turned his head.

Evan stepped away without saying anything. Barty recoiled in confusion, but Evan just went back to stirring and refusing to look at his friend.

“Alright,” Barty said, sounding a bit annoyed. “I’ll bite. What’s wrong?”

Evan clenched his jaw, but the words came out anyway.

“What’s wrong is that you completely ditched me last night as well as this morning without any prior warning.”

There was a beat of silence, then a teasing, “Aw, did you miss me, Rosie?”

Barty swayed closer in amusement, and Evan’s grip on the ladle tightened. His knuckles went white.

“Leave it,” Evan said tightly.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was drunk. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Evan snorted. “You could say that.”

And no, no no no no no, he wasn’t supposed to bring that up, not supposed to remind Barty or to make things awkward between them, it was supposed to just be forgotten and Merlin, why wasn’t Barty saying anything?

Evan finally turned his gaze on the boy next to him, who blinked.

“Ha,” Barty chuckled a bit weakly. “Yeah, I was really smashed. Don’t even really remember much.”

He coughed awkwardly. Evan ignored it, too busy hoping Barty didn’t remember… well, the entire fiasco, he supposed.

“Why?” Barty asked, and Evan’s attention snapped back to him. “Do I do anything stupid?”

He doesn’t remember, Evan thought incredulously.

“I—” he hesitated. He shook his head in order to clear his thoughts. “No, nothing out of the ordinary.”

Evan then allowed a false grin to overtake his face, feeling incredibly grateful for his ability to lie. “So don’t worry, your stellar reputation is still intact.”

His act was enough to get Barty to laugh.

“What stellar reputation?” Barty joked and knocked his shoulder with Evan’s, then turned to the cauldron. “So, what’ve we got here?”

Evan explained the task Slughorn had set for them, only a quarter of which he had completed. They’d be working from bell to bell for the next several days at the pace this was going. But Barty didn’t comment on Evan’s slow going—which, to be fair, was mostly due to having been busy wondering where Barty was. Instead, he got to work at Evan’s side, who couldn’t help but feel relieved to have Barty with him once more.

Barty didn’t remember. Things would be fine.

#rosekiller #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #slytherin skittles #marauders era #rosekiller microfic #my microfics

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zivazivc · 3 months

Note

what's your headcanon about the bergens keeping the trolls as prisoners?

OHOHOHOHO! fair warning, my headcanons tend to be really dark and this is no exception.

I'm not typing this anew, I'm just pasting two blocks of text I sent to a friend via tumblr messenger on two different occasions, so it might feel a bit disjointed while reading:

block of text one:

okay basically in my hc trollstice is also a once a year thing but it’s not barbaric in the sense that on that day they let the bergens into the cage and they just go ham catching trolls left and right. in my hc king peppy and chef actually have a fucked up agreement where chef shows up a few weeks/days before trollstice on a particular year and tells him how many trolls she needs that year and then the trolls pick that year’s victims by lot (only trolls who are 40 and older participate (with a few exceptions like obvs the king, but also rosiepuff but more on that some other time)) (also the age limit used to be much higher at the very beginning but they had to adjust to their population growing smaller). they implemented this to keep the kids safe and also to kinda force the population to reproduce more, because everyone starts having kids young bc they want to see them grow up before there’s a chance that they can get picked for the next trollstice (it’s also why jd and freesia we’re already thinking of starting a family at 18) ANYWAY during all this the trolls have been secretly digging the escape tunnels for years, and they are getting close but they keep pushing the date back because of cave ins or other setbacks. ANYWAY the bergen king has a baby son who will be old enough for his very first trollstice in a few years, and the chef being a demon spawn proposes that the prince’s very first troll should be a princess. king peppy and everyone is horrified because viva is still young and he tries arguing that she’s the only heir to the throne. So then Chef is like “then make a new princess for the prince, you still have two years time”. SO THEN the king is forced to have poppy (hence why she’s so much younger than viva 🙃) but the trolls are still all horrified of the idea that the bergens would eat a child so they collectively start working extra hard in the tunnels and they manage to finish them just in time for the prince’s first trollstice…….

this would also explain why chef was so confident about where baby poppy was located at the last trollstice at the beginning of the first movie when she walked into the cage and knew which pod to grab - it all had to be planned in advance.

AND there being no “old” trolls would also explain why so much life wisdom and knowledge about the outside world managed to disappear during the time the trolls were imprisoned. no grandmas or grandpas to pass the knowledge on.

block of text two:

in my hc rosiepuff isn't the brothers’ grandma but is actually their great or maybe even their great great grandma, who was alive when the bergens arrived. she was from a family of like “biologists” who studied plants and fungi and knew how to take anything in their natural surroundings and use it as food or to make medicine. they were like witch doctors or folk healers, something in those lines. rosiepuff was pretty young when the bergens arrived and by the time the bergens and trolls implemented trollstice and the rules about picking who gets eaten, she was the only one left from her family. and the troll king at the time chose to excuse/prohibit her from participating in trollstice in the hopes of her passing on what was left of her family’s knowledge about wild plants because they will need it when they escape and will have to survive in the wild and build their society from scratch. so rosiepuff was basically the wise elder at the troll tree and she also drilled her knowledge into all her children and grandchildren and this is why branch and the other four were able to survive so well on their own. especially branch, who lived alone with her for a few years before she died and just hyperfocused on her teachings and his promise to build a bunker. the reason she died the way she did is that chef was experimenting with a new recipe for the bergen prince’s first trollstice so she quickly popped into the cage the day before trollstice and just snatched the first troll she could get her hands on… she basically died just the day before the trolls escaped. :( which is also why clay didn’t find out about it (in my hc clay didn’t escape the troll tree the way jd, spruce and floyd did)

#answered #trolls #trollstice #trolls rosiepuff #trolls chef #trolls headcanons #yes i do manage to sleep at night thinking about trolls thank you for asking

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padfootagain · 8 months

Text

Blackout

Hi everyone! Here comes another fic for Hozier! Hope you like it! It isn’t an enemies to lovers, honestly, more like an… annoyed to lovers.

Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Warnings: none, it’s cute! Adorable even. Lots of interrupted kisses. Annoyed to lovers instead of a real enemies to lovers

Summary: Your new neighbour is insufferable with his music-making and his pretty face and his unbearably tall frame. Or is he? Maybe a blackout through your neighbourhood will make you change your mind about him.

Word Count: 5568

Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It wasn’t that you hated him, really. You reckoned that you didn’t know the guy enough to hate him.

It was just that… he simply… got on your nerves.

Why? Well, the fact that your new neighbour was blasting electric guitar and wailing at 2am was a good start. And then there was just… something… something off. You couldn’t explain it. You just saw him and you went nope.

And that was probably mean, and uncalled for, to be fair. He seemed nice enough, during the day, when he was not waking you up at an ungodly hour. He was good-looking too, and he had a nice soothing voice, quiet and surprisingly gentle considering that he was a fucking giant…

Still, you couldn’t forgive him for ruining your nights and never even apologising. Or actually, he did apologise. Every time. And then, he went ahead and did it all over again the next day. The fact that he was a famous musician (that you had obviously recognised, you did not live under a rock, after all) was no excuse to bother your neighbours when they had jobs to go to in the morning.

What a jerk…

Still, you did need some flour to bake these cookies due for your friend tomorrow, now that your little demon of a black cat had dropped the whole thing on the floor… and then decided to roll in it so he could paint your entire kitchen with powder.

What a day…

So, that was the reason why you were now knocking on your neighbour’s door. It was a small building you lived in, with only three flats, and you knew that the couple upstairs were away, gone on vacation somewhere hot and sunny to drink fancy colourful cocktails, the lucky bastards. Meanwhile, you remained in your small town, while it was freezing cold outside, sky as grey as your mood, forced to see this unbearably annoying neighbour of yours…

You knocked a second time, perhaps he had not heard you. You knew he was in, there was light coming out from underneath his door. The shop in your village was closed today. He was your only hope to get these cookies of yours, sadly…

Finally, the door opened. Or well, it was flung open, actually. A grumpy look on handsome features appeared, towering you with his full height, long brown curls messily tied in a bun.

“Hi!” you forced a smile. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, but nodded anyway.

“Need anything else?” he asked, and his voice was softer than the look on his face would have suggested.

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He seemed unsure of what to do with his long limbs for a moment, staring at you before he turned in a jolt, hurried back inside. You noticed that he hadn’t bothered with a hello.

What a je…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour with a smile. It was pretty, even if it was unmistakeably polite more than anything else.

Why on earth were you thinking that, by the way?

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise.”

He merely gave you another smile, clearly uncomfortable.

“Okay, bye!”

You spun around before he could do anything but mumble a ‘goodbye’, and disappeared in your flat, just across the hall.

Leaning against your front door after closing it, you tried to remember how much of a jerk that man was. How annoying he was. And most of all, you tried not to think of how gorgeous his hazel eyes were…

There was a noise before you, and when you lifted your eyes, Salem was staring at you, paws and fur still partially covered in white flour.

Damn…

It wasn’t that he hated you, really. Andrew reckoned that he didn’t know you enough to hate you.

It was just… simply that you… made him nervous.

There was something about you that just made him struggle to breathe all of a sudden. The fact that the first conversation you had was you not-so-politely telling him to shut up already might have something to do with that. The fact that your cat had been peeing right before his front door on several occasions also played in your disfavour. And perhaps there was also the fact that he found you breathtaking, that he loved the sound of your voice, and that every time he saw you he was torn between an urge to snap at you and another to kiss you to finally make you shut up already. He also sometimes wanted to throw your cat out of the building, but he was too kind-hearted for this to ever fall into the ‘feasible’ category.

The other ones of his urges though…

He shook himself, focused on his guitar again, reached for the cup of tea by his side, sliding the two teabags to the side to take a sip. He needed to focus. He had a song to finish, damn it…

But then again, writing in this small flat he was renting wasn’t ideal. The roof of his home needed to be fixed, he couldn’t stay there for several weeks in a row while people were working on it. And as he was in desperate need for a place to stay while his roof was being repaired, and unwilling to simply stay at a friend’s house for weeks, he wasn’t picky when it came to the choice of flat for this short rental. He would be staying only for a few weeks anyway. He saw the flat on Air BnB, figured it would do, and moved in for six weeks.

The paper-thin walls were a challenge though. And being the night-owl he was, it was tough working only throughout the day.

He took a look at the clock on the wall. 9pm… surely he could make a little bit of noise still. No adult was going to sleep so early these days, lives were too busy for that, workdays too long.

He started recording, trying to get a few back-up vocals in. He could record some guitar quietly later, but he did need some strong vocals to get a feeling of the song. Perhaps it would help him finish this bunch of lyrics he was stuck with.

He had been working for around twenty minutes when he heard someone knocking on his door.

He stopped mid-note, cursing at the interruption. Your interruption, without a doubt…

He needed to work, it was still early, and you were getting on his nerves so fucking much…

He opened his door a little too hard, a dark expression adorning his features. And he was even angrier at you when he found you wearing casual clothes, a warm oversized hoodie and some sweatpants. He was infuriated by your messy hair and the way he wanted to run his fingers through it. He was so frustrated by the white traces of flour splattered across your cheek and sleeves and fingers, and how adorable they made you look. Cosy and comfortable and making him feel lonely like this, on his own, recording alone and singing to no one, making him want to hold you through the night…

“Hi!” you spoke first, but he noticed at once how forced your smile was. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

He was so surprised, he had to raise an eyebrow at that. No complaints about his singing? No… complaints in general? Were you alright?

He wondered why he was so surprised by that, anyway. You seemed to be lovely. He simply had never had the occasion to properly talk to you, that was all…

He nodded.

“Need anything else?” he asked, making his voice softer, knowing he had been a little rough as he had opened the door.

And for God’s sake, he had not even said hello! You would think he was an absolute knob… Was it too late to say hello? Yeah, of course, it was too late, he was pathetic, and there it was again, you were making him so damn nervous, staring at him with these beautiful eyes of yours…

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He wasn’t sure what to do. For some reason, he was reluctant to walk in again. He didn’t dare question why.

Eventually, though, he did hurry to his kitchen, foraging for his flour. He had barely half a bag left…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour and forced a smile. He hoped you wouldn’t notice that his hands had turned clammy, that he was struggling for breath a little… or a lot, actually. He didn’t know what to make of his long limbs, of his tall frame, he didn’t know what to tell you…

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise,” you told him, smiling too, although yours was more relaxed and he found it a little too bright, it made it dangerous.

He wondered if he should tell you about the white streak on your cheek, but decided against it. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, he was awkward enough for the two of you. God, it had been years since he had been that shy in front of someone.

Before he could find something to say (and he was trying hard to find something interesting to say), you were pressing your lips tightly together.

“Okay, bye!”

It was over already? Andrew was a little stunned by it, he mumbled a ‘goodbye’, brain functioning at full speed to find an excuse to make you stay, but found nothing, reaching to grasp only at air. A second later, you were spinning around, hurrying across the corridor and back to the safety of your door. He watched you disappear, and walked back inside with a sigh.

He sat back in his chair, picked up his guitar again. Damn, he needed to get a grip. He was supposed to hate you, for God’s sake…

“Oh, this got to be a joke…”

Andrew mumbled under his breath, heaving a deep sigh. As if things weren’t complicated enough already in this tiny flat…

The light had just gone out. In this wintery season, even though it was still fairly early, the sky was already wearing its nightly colours, although any traces of moon or stars were hidden behind heavy clouds. Without electricity, the whole room was drenched in darkness…

Andrew checked the battery level of his laptop, resting before him on the small desk where he had been working on a new song. Luckily, none of his music equipment was plugged in, so no damage from a power surge could have happened. He had about 35% battery left…

“Great…”

He saved his files, and used the light of the screen to look for his phone. He checked the battery there too, at the corner of the screen.

12%...

“Fuck…”

He turned the torchlight on anyway, having no other source of light in the room but for his electronical devices. He headed for the cupboard by the door, feet making the wooden floor creak quietly in the dark. He checked the fuses on the hidden electrical panel there, but everything was normal.

It wasn’t coming from his flat. In fact, it wasn’t coming from his building. As he peered into the street, all the streetlights had gone out. It was complete darkness, except for the distant lights of a car, that disappeared after a few seconds.

Andrew heaved another sigh, wondering what to do. It was 6pm, he had not eaten dinner, he had not showered – both vital needs that could not be fulfilled without electricity, unless he wanted to opt for a freezingly cold shower, and he was clearly not in the mood for that – and his phone, aka only source of light, was about to die.

Great… fucking great…

He reckoned that he had a few biscuits tugged somewhere, that would make dinner. He could still quickly wash up with cold water and take a proper shower tomorrow. He only needed a proper torchlight, or at least a candle to see something.

He foraged through the cupboards, drawers and every corner of the flat. No candle, no light, nothing…

His phone was down to 7% battery.

Damn…

There was, however, a solution to his problem. He could go and ask you if you could lend him any source of light…

God, he hated his bloody romantic brain for the line that immediately popped into his head.

She’s a source of light…

“Oh, just shut up, already…” he cursed at himself out loud.

He still opened the door, and walked over to your flat. He only hesitated once he was facing the wooden surface, hand raised in a fist and about to knock. He could feel his throat tightening, and some excited butterflies mingle in his stomach with something anxious and not quite nice. He could feel his palms becoming clammy. He bit down on his cheek.

Did he really want to do that? Knock on your door? See you? You could tell him to fuck off. You could be mean. Or worse, you could give him an earnest smile, what would he do with himself if you did?

But Andrew shook himself and finally knocked. He wasn’t a bloody teenager to be this intimidated by someone. He was an accomplished musician, in his thirties, who owned a home, bees and an awful lot of guitars. He had talked to many people who were way more intimidating than you, including the fucking president! He had sung in front of thousands of people! Tens of thousands! He could totally ask you for a torchlight and be cool about it.

His breath staggered when your face appeared, opening the door and looking up at him with these gorgeous eyes of yours, and his heart skipped several beats, and his brain simply ceased to function altogether…

Bloody hell…

“Oh, hi!” you spoke in an annoyed voice, but he somehow knew the feeling wasn’t aimed at him. “I was about to go over to your place, Andrew. There’s no power in my flat.”

“None in mine either. And nothing in the street. It seems the whole area is in the dark.”

You heaved a frustrated sigh, a long exhale through your nose, and Andrew couldn’t help but find you adorable like this, all frustration and annoyance. He wanted to kiss that frown of yours away…

But he shook himself instead.

She’s annoying as fuck. And you’ve interviewed your fucking president, you can ask your neighbour for a candle…

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, his voice more hesitant than usual, but steady all the same. “But there’s nothing we can do to get the lights back on, and there’s no candle or torchlight in the flat. And my phone is about to die. Do you have anything you could lend me for the night?”

But you shook your head.

“Sorry, got only one candle, and I’m using it. My phone is about to die too.”

“Oh… okay, nevermind then. Thanks anyway.”

“Oh wait! Your flour!”

You rushed inside, reappeared seconds later with the bag you had borrowed that morning.

“Thanks,” Andrew gave you a smile, one that he tried to make brighter than the ones he usually offered you. “Hope the cooking went well.”

“Yep! I now have lots of cookies! Luckily, they were finished before the power went out. The oven runs on electricity.”

“Yeah, mine too. Everything in the flat does, actually,” he answered with a wince.

“You’ve got some food for tonight?”

“Some snacks, yeah. It will simply not be a night for my infamous pastas.”

Andrew didn’t know how to react when you actually chuckled at his joke, a genuine smile now adorning your lips. It was all butterflies and leaping heart and air leaving his lungs.

Fuck… this was so much more intimidating than talking to the president…

“I’ve got some stuff ready, if you want. Nothing fancy, just a salad.”

You opened your door wider, a silent invitation, one he was too surprised by to seize right away, too busy raising an eyebrow.

“Oh… erhmmm… thanks… you don’t have to bother, though…”

“I’m not! I prepare most of my meals in advance, during the weekend. I have enough for you, if you want.”

“Erhmmm… it won’t bother you?”

“No, I…”

But you were interrupted by sudden darkness as Andrew’s phone decided to give up on life…

“Fuck! Bloody hell…” he cursed under his breath, tapping on the screen, but to no avail.

“Wait, the candle…”

You walked back into your flat, a dim light coming from the other end of the hall. He could only guess your form in the dark, but he noticed that you were stumbling as you cursed.

“Bloody… Salem! No! Andrew, close the door! The cat!”

Andrew didn’t think. He didn’t fully realize what he was doing as he stepped inside your flat and closed the door in a hurry. A soft brush against his ankle told him that your cat had not managed to escape.

“Did he run off?” you asked, reappearing with the candle in your hand, your features bathed in the warm light; something so ethereal, Andrew thought he was dreaming all of this.

But then he felt claws digging into his jeans in an attempt to climb up his leg, and he was reminded that he was not dreaming, indeed.

“No, he’s decided to use me as his personal tree instead,” he joked, bending to gently push the animal away, who mewed in discontent.

You laughed at that, sound clear and blinding, making him a little dizzy.

“For his defence, that’s an easy mistake to make.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Very funny…”

Still, he couldn’t refrain an amused smile, and yours brightened too.

“So, now that you’re in… want some of my brilliant chicken salad?”

You had no idea what had gone through your brain when you invited Andrew to come in and share a meal with you.

You were supposed to hate the guy. He was supposed to be the annoying musician next door who kept on yelling into some microphone when you tried to sleep.

It was difficult to remind yourself of that though, when the annoying musician turned out to be so soft-spoken and sweet. Sweet. Yeah, that was the most fitting word to describe how your evening was going with him so far. He seemed nervous as well, an unexpected reaction to your modest flat and perfectly ordinary self. The guy had sung in front of audiences of thousands and probably met an awful lot of people who were everything but ordinary… and yet he was shifting his weight now from one foot to the other, as if he didn’t know what to make of his long limbs. You found that adorable…

The fact that he looked stunning in the warm light of the candle, with his hazel eyes looking almost black in the dimly lit room, his hair held in a messy bun, the photons caught in his beard and long eyelashes… yeah, that was not helping at all, either.

You cleared your throat while handing him a glass of water, which he quietly thanked you for. There was nothing special about your meal, but he complimented you anyway. He stole a couple extra cookies for dessert, and you smiled at the sight.

“Sweet tooth?” you asked, nodding towards the crumbs in his plate, the last remnants of the fourth cookie he had been devouring.

He looked sheepishly at you.

“Kind of… sorry…”

“Don’t apologise! I’m glad you like them.”

“Well, you did make them with my flour, so I guess I’ve partly paid for them,” he joked, successfully making you laugh.

He was funny, which didn’t help you reminding yourself that you ought to despise him either.

If you had both struggled a little to start a proper conversation at the beginning, you were more relaxed now, and Andrew seemed to be feeling the same. You had barely talked to each other before, your interactions limited to polite chit-chat typical of neighbourhood, and you being annoyed at him, and him being annoyed at you.

It turned out that he was nice, that he was kind, that he was funny and smart and that he had an awful lot of anecdotes to tell. Time flew by, the night deepening faster than expected, and you remained sitting around your dinner table even after your plates were empty, talking about your lives and discovering that you had quite a lot in common, after all.

Alright, he wasn’t as insufferable as you had first thought, and for sure your heart leapt every time he smiled, and you couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous…

… still, you were supposed to hate him.

He helped you wash the dishes, joking and making you laugh, and hell, it was hard to stop your heart from beating too fast.

Out of annoyance, of course! You were annoyed… that was why your stomach made some crazy flip-flops when he bent closer to you to secure a plate in the cupboard above your head. It wasn’t at all because his shoulder was touching yours, because he stood so close you could smell his earthy perfume and it made you dizzy…

Nope! None of that… of course…

And when he looked down at you, remaining just as close, and you caught him staring, caught the bopping of his Adam’s apple and the tensing of the muscle in his jaw, the sudden urge you felt to reach up for his collar and pull him down until you could kiss his lips was a reflection of your frustration against him, nothing more.

Nothing more…

His eyes left yours, blinked a couple of times and landed on your lips, and you were certain that the sound of his breathing had disappeared. And you both remained there, standing still, staring at the other and you wondered if he was thinking the same thought as you did, having the same surprising longing to close the space between your bodies. You weren’t sure why you had invited him when you thought you disliked him. But then did you really dislike him? Or did you simply smell danger in his bright smile, saw risks in his pretty eyes, and the fear of falling in his deep voice? Yeah… yeah, perhaps there was a little bit of that, too… You tilted your head up, and he lowered his head, just a little bit, the ghost of a movement, you could almost have dreamt it…

But then he moved away, in a jolt, blinking and clearing his throat as if catching himself doing something mad and wrong and stopping before he actually performed the sin. You disliked him once again, then, hating that he elicited disappointment…

You finished washing the dishes in silence, and you hated the feeling of discomfort that suddenly replaced the warmth he had brought before. He was back at shuffling around, clearly uncomfortable. And yet, when he looked at you again and caught your gaze with his, his expression softened.

“Can I confess something?” he asked out of the blue, but you nodded in encouragement despite your surprise.

He sounded serious all of a sudden, and he took a moment to look for the right words. His eyes seemed to search for something in yours, and you couldn’t look away while he looked so intensely at you.

“I… I’m sorry we kind of… hit it off in a bad way. Cause I… you’re not as bad as I thought you were,” he added with a tinge of humour and lopsided smile, which made you smile too.

“Yeah… you’re not as insufferable as I thought you were either,” you admitted despite yourself. And yet, as soon as the confession passed your lips, you couldn’t deny that you truly meant it.

He grinned, the sight making your heart skip a few beats.

“Is there a way that I can repay you for your amazing chicken salad?” he asked, his tone more playful again, eliciting warmth across your frame.

You couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“I mean, it was an amazing salad,” you leaned into his joking tone.

“Spectacular. It deserves some kind of retribution, somehow…”

“Well, you’re a musician aren’t you? I’m sure you can find something.”

He laughed at that, clearly taken aback by your answer, but if he blushed and rubbed his neck in a mark of sudden shyness, he didn’t back down.

“You’re aiming straight for the serious topics,” he teased.

“For the free concert tickets, if we’re being fully honest…” you joked, making both of you laugh.

“Oh, I see! That’s where the sudden kindness comes from! You want to exchange a chicken salad for a show!”

“Absolutely! Do you have any idea how much time and energy I’ve put in that salad?!”

“A tremendous amount, no doubt! Well… sorry to disappoint, but I’m not on tour at the moment.”

“Good, cause I was aiming for that other artist you might know.”

He broke into a loud laughter, one that filled your apartment and your frame alike with joy.

“What a well-thought plan! I’m afraid you might make me more important than I truly am, though.”

“If I give you an extra-cookie, I’m sure you’ll find a way to get me the show I want.”

“And here you go, using my weaknesses already, you clever lass!”

“A genius, that’s what I am!”

You laughed again, before you would grow more serious again.

“Seriously though, don’t mention it. It was nice to have dinner with you.”

His smile grew more tender, his gaze softened.

“Yeah… it was nice for me too. And perhaps you… perhaps we could do that again? Next time I could be doing the cooking.”

“And with actual lights on, that could be good too,” you joked, making him chuckle as he nodded.

“And well… I’ll have my guitar with me, perhaps I can repay you with some music then.”

“Wow… are you offering a free concert, or a form of serenading?”

You were joking, but you noticed the way his cheeks reddened, and he averted his eyes for a few seconds, before capturing your stare with his once more.

“Rather the second option, I reckon.”

You tried very hard to hide your reaction: the way your heart skipped a few beats and then became absolutely erratic, so much so that you wondered if it could beat hard enough to break your ribs and escape your chest altogether; the butterflies that flew across your stomach; the breath that got caught in your throat…

Damn, you hadn’t felt like that in years…

He averted his eyes once more to speak again.

“Ermmm… unless you wouldn’t like that, of course.”

“I… Actually, I think I would like that. Quite a lot.”

He looked at you then, his smile turning into a grin. And he blinked, eyes falling to your lips a second time this evening…

You reached for your kitchen counter, hesitating in taking the first step and leaning into your urge to pull him down to kiss him. How crazy was that thought? That you could be kissing Hozier, of all people; that you wanted to kiss the neighbour you had categorized as annoying for weeks; that you felt exhilarated like a teenager at the mere thought of touching his cheek…

He seemed to be hesitating too, and you heard him take a sharp intake of breath, blink again, and then he slowly leant down…

… and then it was complete darkness in the room, as the candle died out.

You jumped in surprise, taking a step back involuntarily and letting out a squeal as you felt your heel brushing your cat’s tail. Salem hissed, although you stopped your step before you could hurt him. You started to lose your balance though, when a pair of hands reached blindly in the dark for you, grabbing both of your upper arms and pulling you forward. You collided with something warm, hard and steady, and the earthy scent that enveloped your senses and made your head spin told you that you were pressed against Andrew’s chest.

“You’re alright?” he asked, worry audible in his tone.

“Yeah, just… almost stepped on my cat.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, I almost stepped on him.”

He let out a low hum, almost a rumble, the vibrations echoing through your cheek and you had to close your eyes at the reassuring feeling. You reached up to hold him without thinking; there was something so safe and soft about his embrace…

His left hand moved from your arm to your back, a soothing caress as he pressed you closer. Meanwhile, his other hand was slowly moving up your arm, torturingly slow, making its way from your arm to your shoulder, and then it was time for a brush of long fingers across your neck that made your whole body tremble, and he kept on going until you moved your face so he could cup your cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing delicate circles into your cheekbone. You didn’t dare to move, afraid he would leave your arms, afraid you wouldn’t feel the warmth of his body sipping into your clothes anymore. But then, you felt his warm breath fan over your forehead, near your hairline, and you looked up to see nothing but shadows, your hair brushed against the tip of his nose.

But then you were blinded, as the power was back on, the lights now turned on again.

You both jolted backwards, blinking hard against the outburst of light, and you heard him cursing under his breath.

And just like that he was gone, and you could have cried from the cold that replaced his body in your arms.

It took both of you a moment to regain your composure, to realize what was happening, where you were, what had almost happened.

Almost…

When you caught his gaze again, you couldn’t make out what his hazel eyes were saying, pupils still dilated after spending so long in a dimly lit room and then in complete darkness.

You struggled to swallow, unsure what to do next. Were you supposed to act like you had not been close to kissing a second ago? Were you supposed to joke around again? Were you supposed to talk about it? Were you supposed to ask him on a date?

You read the same hesitations in Andrew’s eyes, although something soon shifted in his gaze. Something determined appeared, and a little scared, but lovely all the same. And before you could react, he had taken a step forward to close back the space between your bodies, had reached up to hold your face in both his hands, and was crushing his lips to yours.

Your brain ceased to function altogether, you were too stunned to realize fully what was happening. But then your braincells caught on, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to bring his even closer as you kissed him, sighing in his mouth as he parted his lips to taste you.

For how long did you remain like this, standing in your kitchen, untangled and kissing? Hard to tell, impossible even. But when you broke apart, both of you out of breath, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, and he held you close, as if he were afraid you could leave.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, your voice full of shock.

He chuckled at your reaction.

“You know, when a man and a woman really like each other, sometimes…”

“Don’t,” you warned him, but couldn’t refrain a smile all the same.

“Sorry, bad timing.”

You looked up at him, and by the look he gave you, you guessed that you weren’t very good at hiding your sudden nervousness.

“I’m not the ‘one-night stand’ type,” you warned him.

Andrew slowly nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Okay.”

“Besides, I’m supposed to hate you so…”

“Hate me?”

“You’re supposed to be the hot but very annoying neighbour who I blame for all of my life’s problems.”

He laughed at that, a smirk forming on his lips.

“You think I’m hot?”

It was your time to laugh.

“You’re not too bad,” you answered, but the look you gave him made him blush.

“Well, you’re not too bad either. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“I’m sure you can do better than that.”

A spark of mischief appeared in his eyes.

“If you want, I can get going with the serenading.”

You laughed again, shaking your head, but playing along all the same.

“Tempting. I won’t give myself away for less than that.”

“Dully noted. I’ll make efforts to woo you properly, I promise.”

You shied away a little, but he held you a little more tightly against him.

“What about a proper date though?” he asked, all traces of humour now gone from his voice. “Tomorrow night?”

You smiled up at him, nodding your head, before burying your face in his shoulder again, and he held you tightly against him in response.

Yeah, he truly was insufferable, without a doubt…

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