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krirebr · 1 month

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I Know I Should Know Better 6

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?

Warnings: Angst, adult themes, complicated power dynamics, minor age difference (not explicit in this part, but reader is mid-twenties and Curtis is early thirties), explicit language, anxiety, negative self-talk. They're both having a bad time, you guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Finally back with this one! And it's the penultimate chapter!! We're so close to the happy ending, you guys!!

Huge thanks to @bigtreefest and @stargazingfangirl18 who talked me through this when I was struggling with the last scene.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screaming at me. 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You were lounging right next to your pool, dragging your fingertips through the water. It was the last day before you flew to New York to start the publicity tour for the last movie you had in the hopper. It had been made very clear that you needed to have your next project figured out and signed by the time this tour was done. Right now, you were supposed to be reading a script Wilford had sent over, but you hadn’t even opened it yet. You couldn’t stop thinking about what Curtis had asked you the night before. Did you even like acting? You were embarrassed, still, that you hadn’t had an answer for him. You’d started doing it so young, it had always just been what you did. Liking it or not had never been part of the equation. And if you were good at it, shouldn’t you like it? Didn’t those things go hand in hand? You were less sure of that now.

Last night had been eye-opening in many ways. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a night where you felt so much like yourself. None of the performance, none of the image. Just you. You’d been a little worried that the performance was all that was left of you. It was nice to see that that wasn’t true.

And then there was Curtis. Fuck, he was beautiful. On the outside, obviously, but inside – it sounded so dumb, but he had such a beautiful soul. You groaned at yourself internally. Very, very dumb. But seeing him in his house, with Edgar, in his kitchen, in his bedroom on his knees in front of you? Shit, he may have been the most beautiful person that had ever lived. And you were maybe in love with him.

Fuck. It’d hit you last night, during dinner. You’d looked over at him, sitting across from you, blushing as he watched you eat the food he’d made and it’d just popped into your head – I love this man. You didn’t think that’d ever happened to you before. So of course you’d dragged him into his bedroom. But even that was different. You weren’t used to sex not being the point of the whole thing. But Curtis made you feel like it was just one of a thousand things he wanted to do with you. That it was just one of the worthwhile things about you. It was overwhelming. He was so overwhelming.

And so, that thought. I love him I love him I love him just on a loop in your head since it’d first entered your mind. You grabbed your phone next to you and typed out and sent the message quickly before you could think better of it.

I think I might be in love.

The reply from Marnie was immediate.

That’s exciting, isn’t it?

You bit your lip as you answered.

I guess. I mean, yeah, it is. It’s really great! But he’s not in the industry, not really, and I don’t know. I’ve never felt this way before and so much could go wrong.

There was no pause before you had her answer.

Don’t borrow trouble, sweetheart. It’s ok to just let yourself be happy now.

You stared at her message. Be happy now. Before you could figure out what to even do with that, another text came through.

Is he good to you?

You smiled automatically.

He is. He’s so good to me. The best.

I’m happy for you.

And you knew she was. She was one of the only friends you’d ever had whose motivations you never questioned, compliments you never doubted. She just wanted good things for you. Because she liked you. That was it. Between Marnie and Curtis, you weren’t sure you’d ever felt so well-liked before. It was nice, to have multiple people who genuinely cared about you.

You typed out a quick thank you and then checked the time and smiled to yourself before making your way back inside. Sure enough, Curtis was there, settled on a couch in the living room.

You lowered yourself onto the couch next to him, on top of him, really. You both cut a wary glance toward the kitchen but Michelle was engrossed in her computer at the kitchen island, answering emails, and managing your schedule. Jensen was out doing something with the car. There was no one else around, no one paying attention. “Hi,” you whispered softly, right in his ear.

“Hi,” he whispered back and smiled, that private one that was only for you. He wrapped his arm around you and twined his fingers through yours. You rested your head on his shoulder and hummed contentedly. You both just rested there, taking a quiet moment together before the day got busy and you’d have to pretend that you hadn’t woken up next to him, able to watch the sun rise on his face.

The quiet calm was punctured when, from the kitchen, you heard Michelle’s phone blow up and a moment later she cried out “What the actual fuck?!”

Your phone quickly followed suit and, most worryingly, so did Curtis’s. You both scrambled to check what on earth was going on as Michelle marched into the living room. As soon as she’d rounded the couch, she yelled at Curtis, “Are you seriously fucking her?!”

You stared at her, your eyes round. “What?” you gasped. You stood up, trying to put some distance between all of you as you opened your phone. The notifications were still pinging. Multiple calls coming in at once, texts, Twitter, Instagram. You opened Twitter and tried to find the root of everything. And there it was, on TMZ a zoomed-in shot of you and Curtis on the corner by his house. His hands were on your waist, you were leaning in for a kiss, a happy smile on your face. Whoever took it had gotten both your faces. It was obviously the two of you, clear as day. “No, no, no,” you started to chant.

Curtis was in front of you in an instant. “It’s gonna be ok,” he said, just to you, and grabbed your hand and squeezed it.

Michelle was still standing at the end of the couch, freaking out. She was focused on Curtis, mostly ignoring you. “This is a complete disaster!” she yelled. “I’d expect this from her,” she said throwing a hand in your direction without actually looking at you, “but I never thought you’d do something this monumentally stupid, Curtis!”

“Hey!” You yelled, finally getting her attention. “This isn’t his fault, ok? Leave him alone.”

She stared at you, her mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out, before her phone rang insistently. She glanced at it and grimaced. “Tanya,” she said, accusingly, “Of course! I have to go fucking deal with this.”

Curtis stayed where he was and silently rubbed your back as you scrolled through Twitter. This was so, so bad. People had immediately started speculating about who you were with in the picture and it hadn’t taken long for someone to link to pictures of you with Curtis in the background. They’d have his name soon, if they didn’t already. And then the hounding would start. He was never going to forgive you for this. You’d never forgive yourself.

You were pulled out of your spiral by his hand on your cheek. “Hey,” he said lowly, looking you right in the eye. “Stop. It’s going to be okay.”

You shook your head. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what it’s gonna be like.”

“Neither do you,” he said with so much confidence you almost believed him. He must have seen at least part of what you were worried about because his next words were “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

You wanted to be reassured, but you knew that he didn’t really understand, couldn’t understand, all of the things that were going to happen now. And he was going to hate you for it.

His phone rang again, still, and when he checked it, he grimaced. You did too when you saw your manager, Lloyd’s name, on the screen. He answered the call as he stepped away from you, trailing a gentle hand down your arm as he went.

You watched him carefully. His expression was serious, but he didn’t raise his voice at all. Just nodded several times and gave short answers that were low enough you couldn’t hear them. With one final nod, he hung up and came back to you.

“I’m being called in,” he said quietly. He looked up and you followed his gaze to find Michelle standing in the transition space to the kitchen. “Yeah,” he sighed, “looks like you are too. All hands on deck.”

Curtis drove separately on his motorcycle. You tried not to read too much into it for his current state of mind.

He rejoined you as you and your entire team were ushered into a conference room. You knew it was bad when no one moved to sit. Curtis came up and stood behind you, pressing himself into your back with a soft hand on your hip. You exhaled at the contact and leaned your head against him.

Lloyd spoke first, narrowing his eyes at the two of you. “I take it from this display there was no coercion involved in this mess?”

You looked down at the implication you could have used your power or influence against Curtis, ashamed even though you knew that wasn’t the case. You opened your mouth to try to defend yourself when Curtis just growled out, “No. Definitely not.”

Lloyd gave a grim smile. “Perfect,” he said. “Then you’re fired. Obviously.”

Before you could even process what was happening, Curtis’s hand tightened on your hip. His voice was strong and clear when he said, “Yes, of course.”

Your head whipped back and forth between Curtis and Lloyd. “What? No!” you cried. “Not obviously! Not of course! He’s my bodyguard. This should be my decision!”

“No, actually,” Lloyd said. “He works for me, not you, so I’m the one who decides what we do with him. Thank god, since you’ve shown such a shocking lack of judgment here.”

Your head drooped in shame as Curtis’s other hand came up to hold you on both sides now. “Hey,” he growled. “She isn’t a child. Don’t speak to her like one.”

“Watch it!” Lloyd took a step forward, but Curtis held steady behind you.

“Why?” Curtis asked. “I don’t work for you anymore, so fuck you and watch how you speak to her. It’s her work that pays you.”

Tanya stepped forward, putting her hands out to try to de-escalate the situation. “And it’s our hard work that keeps her employable.” She looked to you now. “You have to see what a mess this is. The day before you start a national press tour. Now this will be all anyone wants to know about. And someone who works for you. It’s not a good look and it’s going to take a lot for us all to clean it up.” She looked around the room at everyone gathered. “So we’re all going to sit down now and hammer out our strategy for the next several weeks. Media training obviously,” she said with a side-eye to Curtis, “lining up sympathetic profiles. We’ll need to figure out what’s on our ‘do not ask’ list and what we’ll have to let slip through…”

Her voice faded away as you stopped listening. You’d fucked everything up. You’d ruined Curtis’s life. Thrust him into the spotlight Cratered your own career. Caused endless headaches for everyone around you. You could feel the tears pushing against the rims of your eyes, but you couldn’t let them fall. Not yet. You wouldn’t cry in this room with these people. “Whatever,” you said, your voice shaking. “Figure out what we need to do. You don’t need me for that. You can tell me on the fucking plane.” Without waiting for any kind of response, you stormed out of the conference room, Curtis right on your heels.

You didn’t stop until you were in the parking lot, next to his motorcycle. The moment you stopped moving, you burst into tears. “I’m so sorry,” you gasped. “I’m so fucking sorry!”

“Hey.” Curtis’s hands gently, tentatively landed on your shoulders. “It’s going to be ok. Shh, it’s alright.”

“I got you fired!”

“Hey, I got me fired, ok? I made this choice too, knowing full well what the consequences would be. I–” He was interrupted by his phone ringing. He ignored the call without looking but it immediately rang again. He grimaced, irritated, but his face softened into concern when he saw who it was. “Just a–” he started to you, “I have to take this.” Then he stepped away, his phone pressed to his ear. “Hold on,” you heard him say as he left. “Edgar, calm down.”

You grew more and more uneasy as you watched Curtis pace around. You could clearly tell it was bad news. Of course, it was. What else would it be today? You wondered what else you had ruined for him, how else you’d made his life worse. You didn’t have to wait long to find out, as only a few minutes later he came back to you.

“So, uh,” he began, his hand on the back of his neck, “I was going to suggest we go to my house, but it sounds like there are a bunch of paps camped out there. If we go to yours, we can at least go in the back way on my bike and avoid them.”

He couldn’t go home. Of course, they’d figured out who he was and where he lived. You knew they would. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he said, his voice firm. “This isn’t your fault. It just– It just is.” He sighed and his whole body drooped with it. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

You were both quiet as you got off his bike and made your way into your house. Curtis was right behind you as you climbed the stairs to your bedroom. All the way home all you’d been able to think about was what a disaster this was and how you should’ve known it was the only way it could turn out. You should’ve expected it. You rarely got to keep nice things.

When you got into your room, you crawled into the middle of the bed and folded into yourself. Curtis lingered by your dresser, leaning against the wall, his arms stiff at his sides, his face tight. It felt like there was an ocean between you. “Would you please just get mad at me already?” you whispered.

“What?” he asked, brow furrowed.

“I know you’re mad at me. You have to be! I deserve it. So, please, just do it. Get it over with. I can’t wait anymore.”

“I don’t want to be mad at you,” he sighed. “Today is already terrible. Don’t make me be mad at you too, on top of it all.”

“I got you fired! And now you can’t go home! This– I–” You deflated a little, and much more quietly, said, “None of this would have happened if I were someone else. I know that it’s my fault. So if you’re going to go, just do it, already.”

“I’m not going to go” he said, firmly.

“Why not?” you pleaded. “Everyone else does!”

“Well, I'm not like everyone else. You know that. Stop trying to make me more like them.” He leaned his head back against the wall, and looked up at the ceiling. “I love you,” he said so softly. He moved to the foot of the bed, where he kneeled down and reached out to grasp your ankle. “All of you. Even this part. I wish you’d believe me.”

Your eyes filled with tears again and a little voice inside your head chanted tell him tell him tell him but you couldn’t get the words out, so instead you just whispered, again, “I'm sorry.”

He sighed again. He seemed so tired. “Stop apologizing, please. None of today was your fault.”

“You wanted to quit that first morning. I should have let you. But I was selfish.”

“You weren’t selfish,” he said, rubbing his thumb in a soothing circle on your skin. “You were scared. And you were right. I loved that this just got to belong to the two of us for a little while. No one else. That you just belonged to me.”

Say it say it say it, the voice chanted. Instead, you leaned over and kissed him. You tried to put everything you were feeling into the kiss. All of the things you couldn’t yet say. And you felt him tell you everything he felt about you back. It was overwhelming.

Eventually you pulled away, but twined your fingers with his. “I wish we didn’t have to go to New York tomorrow. Wish we could just hide out here for a little while.”

He breathed your name and when you looked up at him, you were startled by the sadness in his eyes. “I’m not coming to New York with you.”

“What?” you asked, panic rising in your voice. “Why not?”

“I’m not your bodyguard anymore.”

And even though you knew—you were there when it happened—it still hit you like a ton of bricks. You had to force yourself to keep breathing. “Come anyway,” you begged.

He shook his head. “With everything that’s happened, there’s a lot for me to figure out here.”

You pulled your hand away and curled up so that your chin rested on your knees. “I don’t want to go,” you said, and even you could hear how small you sounded.

“Then don’t,” Curtis said, like anything had ever been that easy.

You let out a humorless chuckle. “I have to go.” He just scowled. “Curtis, I have obligations! You act like you’ve never had to do something you didn’t want to.”

He nodded as he stood up. “Sure, I have. Sometimes. Not all the time. Not everything I do.”

You got up on your knees on the bed. “I can’t just not do the press tour! They won’t let me!”

He said your name again and it sounded desperate this time. “This is your life! Aren’t you tired of letting everyone else live it for you? I know I’m tired of watching it!”

“I’m not–” you started, but Curtis couldn’t seem to stop now that he’d started.

“If you don’t want to act anymore, then quit! If you just want to take a break, then do that! The only control they have over you is what you’ve given them. Your team, your mom, your fans, the press. This is your life, not theirs. Please, take it back.” He got on the bed with you, right in front of you so that your knees touched. “I’m begging you,” he whispered, “live your life. Please.”

You just stared at him and he stared back, unflinching. You felt something crack open inside of you and you started crying in earnest now. You couldn’t stop. He envelolped you in his arms, holding you tight. Which only made you cry harder because you felt so safe there.

Everything always seemed so simple when he laid it out like that. But this was your life. It was the only life you’d ever known. Could it really be that easy just to take back everything you felt like you’d lost? Looking into his eyes, it seemed like maybe it could be.

Very gently he layed you down on the bed, pushing your pillow under your head and laying down right next to you. “Will you stay?” you asked. “Tonight, will you stay?”

“Of course,” he said. “Whatever you want.”

You sniffled, your eyes still wet. “Will you hold me? I just want to be close to you.”

“Always,” he said, wrapping his arms around you again. “Always.”

Your alarm went off early in the morning. As you got up Curtis started to rouse as well. You gently pushed him back into the bed. “You don’t need to get up,” you said softly. “Go back to sleep. Stay as long as you want. I’ll see you soon. I’ll miss you.”

Still half asleep, he lifted his head enough to kiss you. When you pulled away, he fell back onto his pillow and closed his eyes.

As quietly as you could, you got ready, then grabbed the bag Michelle had packed for you and went out to where Jensen had the car waiting for you. As the car drove away with you in the backseat, something about the moment felt significant in a way you didn’t really understand.

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#curtis everett x reader #curtis everett #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x female reader #bodyguard au #snowpiercer #chris evans fanfiction #fanfic #bodyguard!curtis everett #bodyguard!curtis everett x actress!reader #reader insert #i know i should know better #kris wrote something

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sage-green-matcha · 1 year

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WHAT WAS I MADE FOR? - ETHAN LANDRY ✨

“Cause I, I don't know how to feel. But I wanna try. I don't know how to feel, but someday I might” - Billie Eilish

Content includes: Reader with depression, Ethan Fluff! Ethan helping you heal! Angst ig?

A/n: I’m so excited for the Barbie movie! I rlly wanted to write something with Billies song, just because she means so much to me! My first fanfic ever was a Billie one, it was horrible! Anyways, to anyone who feels stuck or in a slump just know you’ll be okay. There’s people who love and appreciate you even if you don’t feel it. I’ll always be here if any of you guys wanna talk! My request box is always open! ILY guys sm 💛

You felt horrible. You had fallen into a deep hole that you couldn't get out of. You didn't even attempt to try. You missed many classes, your friends becoming concerned for you. You didn’t know what to do with life anymore. It had all collapsed down on you, you just couldn’t take it anymore.

You didn’t know your purpose in life. You were mentally stuck and you didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t communicate your feelings because you didn’t understand them anymore.

You were happy, and you knew you could be happy again. You wanted to go back in time, fix everything and anything that went wrong. Just so you could save yourself from feeling this way.

Ethan Landry was the only one who could get you out of your slump. He knew exactly what to say, even if it didn’t always come out perfectly. “It’s okay…to feel like that. I mean you don’t always have to be perfect, Y/n. We love you for you” his shirt would soak up your tears, keeping you company as you cried. You felt safe with him. He didn’t judge or ignore you. He actually listened and gave his opinion on things. He was helping you heal and you didn’t know how. It was just Ethan being his usual self that helped you.

“Wanna go out on a drive?” Ethan stood at your room door with keys in hand, a baggy of your favorite snacks in the other. “Yea” your smile was brittle but it was still for him, and it made him melt every time you showed it.

“How’d you feel today?” You played with the strings of your hoodie, head laid back on the car seat. “Okay, I think? Sam and Tara were fighting all day, which made me annoyed. And then I was sad I think, or frustrated because they literally wouldn’t shut up” he was amazed at how trusting you were with him. You vocalized your feelings way better than before.

“I think I forgot how to be happy” a small frown was on your face, heavy bags under your eyes from lack of sleep. Ethan looked at you with concern, closing his laptop so all attention would be on you. “You can talk to me about whatever, okay…? I understand how you feel. I’ve been there before Y/n. It’s not easy to get out of but you can do it. I know you can” his words made you melt, providing comfort and warmth with each one.

You told him everything about yourself, he collected all the information and stored it in his heart. “Why were they fighting? I’m assuming Tara’s therapy?” “Mhm, she’s been acting different” you mumbled, your arm holding up your head as you looked out the window. The air blew through your hair, the warm New York air bringing you comfort.

“Can I take you somewhere?” You could tell he was nervous when he asked you. “Depends on where you’re taking me” “You’ll see” Next thing you knew he had you climbing up some sort of small mountain, taking a look at your surroundings once you got to the top. “The Hollywood sign? Real original, Landry” he smiled as you teased him, sitting down on the dead grass below.

“I like it up here. You can see everything” Your head rested on his shoulder, Ethan placing his jacket around you. He was blushing as you looked up at him, a thankful expression on your face. “How long have you been coming here for?” “Maybe a year now, since we started talking” Your curiosity got the best of you, having to ask why.

“I needed to like…I guess remember you. How pretty you are and…uh, stuff” You held back a giggle, watching as he stumbled over his words. “Cause you know! The view from here is so pretty…it’s pretty. Like you” he cleared his throat, thankful that the lights were off. If they were on you would’ve been able to see his red face, embarrassed at what he has just told you.

You found it so cute, pushing yourself closer to him, his arm gently wrapping around your waist. “Thanks, Eth, for everything. You’ve helped me so much…I” you held back on your words. You knew it was weird, to confess your love to him. Especially now, you had found someone who understood every part of you and you didn’t wanna risk getting that taken away.

“You…you what?” He gulped and you shook your head, trying to avoid the question. “Oh come on Y/n, you have to tell me now” “I can’t, it’s weird” he knew nothing you could say was weird. Even if it was a little, he would still validate you with his opinion.

“Just tell me” You shook your head, hiding your smile in his chest. “Okay, how about this? I’ll tell you something first?” “Okay, but it’s probably not as weird as my thing” he scoffed, his nose taking in the soft scent of your shampoo.

The silence killed you, even if it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Your heart pounded harder with each second that went by, hoping it was the same thing you wanted to say. “I love you, Y/n. I know I do” his eyes were closed tightly, looking at him in amusement.

"You do?" "Yea, I'm sorry" A scoff fell from your lips, pulling him by his collar down to yours. He followed your rhythm, lips latching on perfectly to each other. He tasted so sweet, and gentle. like his personality.

"I love you too" he scanned your face with a smile, grabbing your jaw gently before taking you in for another kiss. "How do you feel now?" you bit back your lip, holding a smile. "I'm happy Eth, you make me happy"

“Think I forgot, how to be happy. Something I’m not, but something I can be. Something I wait for, what was I made for?” - Billie Eilish <33

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loveshotzz · 2 years

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There’s a place for me

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Chapter 1/?

Summary: On the run for wrongful murder charges, Eddie finds himself stopping in a sleepy ocean side town far enough from Hawkins where he can lay low for awhile. Running from the people that want him dead, his only hope is that his past doesn’t catch up to him. Especially when he meets the pretty eye’d waitress up the street.

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: slow burn, angst (Eddie hates himself for running) eventual smut, strangers to lovers. My blog is 18 plus.

A/N: this concept was sent as a request by my irl friend @elthreetimes and as soon as I read it, there was no way it could just be a one shot. It needed to be a series. I feel so lucky that you trust me to bring this story to life, and I hope you enjoy this. Also I couldn’t have done this without my hellfire crew @myobmaya @boomhauer @subparwritersuperbreblogger @sweetsweetjellybean for bouncing ideas and characterizations with me. I seriously couldn’t have written this with out you guys. This is the most ambitious story I’ve ever tried, so here goes nothing. Also bonus points for anyone who guess’s who which character Ron is based off of.

*comments, likes, and reblogs would mean so much if you enjoy my work 💘

For days it felt like all Eddie did was drive, the passage of state signs was his only measurement of time. The hours blending together like the lines on the highway, tangerine skies bleeding vermillion the colors remind him of Chrissy eyes after they exploded inside her head. The beauty of it all being taken away as the image of her crumpled body replays over and over in his mind. With no destination he was driving on auto pilot, only deciding where he was going the third night in.

Hair dripping from the storm outside, his fingers feel bruised from switching out his plates for the third time. Sitting in the back of his van tucked away on the side of a dirt road somewhere in West Virginia, it was the first time in his life he was thankful his dad had taught him a thing or two about evading the law. Stripping off his wet jacket he knew he needed to find somewhere to go. He couldn’t keep driving aimlessly, he didn’t have the money for that. The only cash he had was whatever he’d gotten from his deals earlier in the week, thankful he didn’t spend it on the re up that was suppose to happen the night before everything changed.

He’d never seen the ocean, an elusive place he could only visit in his dreams. Stopped on the boarder between West Virginia and Pennsylvania he wasn’t that far from the east coast. Using his lighter to illuminate the road map he’d found stashed in a messy wad in his glove box he guessed it was maybe a 10 hour drive from the coast. Throwing the idea of sleep out the window with wet clothes making it impossible for him to get comfortable he decided to do what he’s done this whole time, drive.

Watching the early morning sun slowly seep into through the storm clouds the grey sky fades to a more comforting cerulean. Eddie drove with the kind of determination that he wish he’d used to pass high school. Maybe he wouldn’t even be in this mess if he’d just graduated when he was suppose to. Convincing himself he would have been long gone playing guitar in any city that wasn’t Hawkins, he lets himself wallow in self pity till his tires bring him to the ocean.

——

Finding his way into a nameless town that wasn’t even listed on his map, it made Hawkins look like New York City. A small strip set on top a broken battered road - he swerves to miss the never ending onslaught of pot holes. The few shops they had were attached to a single grocery store, the sides of the buildings eroding away from the misted wind. Snorting to himself - of course this is where he ends up, a beach side ghost town. Eddie catches the Help Wanted sign hanging in the window of the diner that lay nestled at the end. Sticking out from the rest, the way it’s lit almost makes it look like it glowing against it’s drab surroundings. It was also the only place he’d seen with any sign of human life.

The lights of The Sleepy Hill motel greet him like the four seasons, when his tired van pulls into the mostly empty lot. The flashing vacancy sign is a promise of a bed, his bones worn down and sore the weight of everything finally kicking in. When his dirty white Reebok’s hit the ground his arms reach for the sky in a kitten stretch of his whole body, eyes closing he relishes in the pops he feels in his spine.

Inhaling a deep breath the salt in the air stings his nose, the mist off the shore making his bangs stick to his forehead. Pulling a runway strand of hair from his cheek he finally takes everything in. On one side of him there was nothing but an endless expanse of tumultuous waves raging against the shore line. The storm clouds he had out run were making their way back through, the lingering bitterness of winter still hanging thick in the March air. It wasn’t like the kind of warmness he’d seen on the postcards, or the in the stories that Rick told, this wasn’t Venice Beach. The sight of a light house in the distance brings a slight feeling of comfort when he watches the strobes of light break through the purple hues of the darkness starting to set in over the horizon. Eyes lingering he lets himself sit in it for awhile watching the waves crash into the broken brick holding it up from falling into whatever laid in the water beneath it. When he turns his attention back to the town that took him less then a minute to drive through, the red “EAT HERE” sign that spun on top of the diner mocks his stomach when he realizes it had been almost a whole day with out any real food.

Slamming his car door shut, he takes quick strides to the back making a mental note to drive to the next town over at some point tomorrow to switch out his plates again, it was too risky to try to do it with any car in a town like this. Eyes darting nervously he opens his back doors with shudder that rings out over the sound of the waves. Furrowing his brows in concentration he starts digging though the blankets in the back searching for the outfit he’d found balled up a few nights ago. Forgotten about after a sleep over at Gareth’s, the memory of a time where his life wasn’t like this hurts in a way that he can’t explain. Maybe he wasn’t as miserable as he thought he was — all the little things he took for granted now at the forefront of his mind.

He hadn’t let himself think about Wayne. Maybe it was the adrenaline that kept his mind from going there, or that thing he’d heard about when your own mind blacks things out to protect you, but he hadn’t thought about what that must’ve been like for him to come home to that.

A life less mangled girl he didn’t know and a nephew that no one was going to find. Eddie just ran without a single thought as to what that would mean for him. Scowling to himself he blames the Munson blood that runs through his veins. Images of his Uncle slumped over with tired shoulders, shuffling into the trailer in the early morning hours when the sun is just peaking through the trees. Boots heavy from another double at work, walking right into the nightmare that Eddie left him with.

Eye’s burning he holds back his tears grabbing the balled up shirt and jeans giving them a sniff. They didn’t smell clean but they smelt better then what he was wearing now and that was just going to have to do. Fingers crossed the motel clerk would let him rent a room with out an ID, he was desperate for a shower. Shoving the garments into his backpack he takes another deep breath ignoring the sting this time, closing his eyes he fights away all the emotions that are ready to spill out. Clearing his throat he cracks his neck before slamming the metal doors shut.

Half way across the pavement Eddie stops in his tracks when he see’s the guy behind the counter. Not much older then him there was something oddly familiar about him, when he glances up catching Eddie in his line of sight. Shaggy brown hair parted down the middle and big teeth protruding from below his upper lip, his beady eyes squint as he tries to figure out what Eddie was doing. The sound of a distant boat horn is what makes his feet finally move again, the boy behind the counter standing up as Eddie closes the distance.

There’s a small chime when the glass door swings open, the warmth of the lobby heats him in a way he hadn’t realized he missed until its hits his skin. There’s an awkwardness that hangs thick in the air when the door closes behind him. Eddie hadn’t talked to another living soul in days besides mumbling the amount of cash and on what pump at gas stations. The man behind the desk who’s name tag said ‘Ron’ was staring at him like he was trying to pin point something familiar about the metal head, and it was making Eddie’s palms sweat. The anxiety of being caught tightening in his chest. Scratching the back of his neck he clears his throat.

“Hi — hey, man I’m uhh- I’m looking to get a room?” He tries to hide how startled he is at his own voice having not heard it in hours.

Ron’s silence doesn’t break much to his dismay as he takes in Eddie’s appearance. Dark eyes trail over his disheveled form before flicking back towards his van in the parking lot. It wasn’t just his palms that were sweating now.

“What’s your deal? You some kinda rockstar or something?” Ron finally breaks his silence, stunned it takes Eddie a minute to comprehend what exactly he’s being asked. When he finally wraps his head around the question he has to actively stop the snort that threatens to come out.

Looking down at his wrinkled hellfire shirt, the cotton is stained with a mixture of dirt and grime from the nights in his van. The whites of his Reebok’s barely visible under the dried up mud from last nights storm. Having caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass of the door on his way in, he knew his wild mane looked like a bird had laid nest in it.

“Excuse me, what?”

Ron sucks his teeth shrugging.

“You just look like that Van Halen guy, but there’s no way you’d be here if you were actually him I’d reckon.” He says matter of factly before sitting back down in his desk. “And he wouldn’t look like he just rolled around in a pigs play pin. Or maybe he would? I don’t know the life style of a celebrity.” He adds with a wave of his hand.

Stunned and completely unsure of how to respond to the man in front of him, the conversation was not going a direction Eddie had even seen coming. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, he finally finds his voice again.

“Yeah, not Eddie Van Halen. My name is Eddie though, Eddie umm Henderson.” He winces internally when Dustin’s last name leaves his mouth.

“Eddie Henderson? That’s not very rock and roll.” Ron tuts before looking up at Eddie from his computer.

Feeling his frustration start to reach it’s tipping point, his fists clench at his sides before they release. Running a hand over his face he exhales sharply through his nose mustering up enough self control to answer politely.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Eddie pointedly looks at his name tag before adding with a curt smile. “Ron.”

Arching a brow, the man at the front desk brings his attention back to the computer screen with a hum. The awkwardness from before becomes almost suffocating in the small room. The growing silence between them lasting long enough that Eddie starts to panic.

“Look man, I’m just trying to get a room for a few nights then I’ll be out of your hair okay? I’m not some rockstar who’s gonna trash the place. I’m a nobody.”

Eyes never leaving the screen the sound of the mouse clicking is the only noise filling the space.

“Got an I.D. Eddie Henderson?” Ron’s tone is flat when finally looks up at eddie through the hood of his lashes, his own irritation clear on his blemished face.

The question he knew was coming still stiffens his body when it leaves his mouth, but the thought of another night sprawled out on the damp blankets on the metal floor of his van is enough for the burning sensation of tears to sting his tired eyes again. Shuffling on his feet, he readjusts his backpack.

“I’ve got cash, I can pay for at least two days up front.” Stepping closer to the desk his fingers drum against the counter top nervously, doe eyes pleading to show him a shred of mercy.

“No, I.D. No ro—“

Digging the 200 of the 250 he had left from his pocket, he slaps it on the desk in a crumpled lump. His survival instincts kicking in with a new level of stubbornness he didn’t know he had. He wasn’t leaving until he had keys to a bed and a shower.

“Please, man. I’m begging you.” The tears that had been threatening fall finally breach his strong hold, a single droplet landing onto his bottom lashes. He wipes it away quickly with the back of his hand, sniffing he closes his eyes collecting himself again. “I’ll keep to myself, you won’t even know I’m here.”

Ron’s eyes soften at the desperation is Eddie’s voice, despite policy there was something sincere about the mysterious stranger standing in front of him.

“200 will get you three nights.” Reaching over the counter he grabs the crumbled up bills before standing up, turning to the wall of keys behind him.

Relief floods his body as he watches Ron’s fingers skim over the glistening metal dangling from the dark blue wall. Blinking back tears the tense muscles in his shoulders release some of the stress they’d been carrying for the last 700 miles.

“Room 10, it’s at the very end. No parties rockstar.” Handing over the single key, it hung from a round burgundy keychain, a faded gold 10 stamped onto the plastic. Eddie can’t help but actually laugh this time, his mood lifted for a fleeting moment.

“Seriously, thank you. You won’t regret this I promise.” Snatching the key before he had a chance to change his mind, he clasps both hands together in front of his face bowing slightly in appreciation.

“There’s free coffee in here every morning. If you bring your key to the diner up the road you get a ten percent discount. We don’t have laundry but there’s a laundromat next to the grocery store, it’s open weird hours you’ll have to check the sign.” Ron prattles on, his voice becoming more professional now that Eddie was a paying guest.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Walking backwards Eddie kicks the door open, the chill in the air sending a shiver down his spine.

“Nice to meet you Eddie Henderson.”

—

The walls of the motel room match the ones in the front office, the sapphire paint chipping at the edges of the ivory trim. The single bed in the middle was covered in a crimson duvet, two fluffed pillows propped against the black head board tempting him enough that he almost throws the idea of a shower and food out the window. Toeing off his shoes, the socks that should be a crisp white are the color of ash and it reminds him just how dirty he really is. Dropping his bag on the floor he starts peeling off his clothes making his way to wash off the last 72 hours.

A satisfied groan falls from between his chapped lips when the heat of the water hits his skin. Tilting his head back he lets it run through his thick tangled waves, pooling at his feet the water is tinged brown. Turning he faces the stream with closed eyes letting it wash over his face as he tries to find peace in his thoughts. The fear seeing Chrissy suspended in the air every time he closed his eyes was what prevented him from the sleep his strained body needed.

After spending longer then he should wrapped up in the warmth of the shower, he can’t ignore the growling in his stomach, remembering the discount at the diner he forces himself out.

The cheap blow dryer makes his hair frizz with more volume then he was used to, holding it down with both hands on either side of his head he sighs exasperated when he lets it go and it bounces back with more force.

Whatever, he didn’t know anyone here and he wasn’t going to be around long.

Changing into his cleaner clothes, he pats down his jeans feeling something in his back pocket. Reaching behind him his fingers come in contact with the thin plastic foiling of a crumpled half full pack of cigarettes he’d left in a drunk mess one night.

“Fuck. Yes.” He mutters to himself feeling a little more like a person rather then just a passenger in his own body for the first time in the last three days.

Grabbing his jacket off the bed nimble fingers search for his lighter once the leather is wrapped around his shoulders. Smirking when he finds it, he heads for the door grabbing his key off the off the dresser. Turning around before he leaves he takes one good look at his new home for the next few days. It wasn’t much but it was better then hiding off on the side roads begging to get caught.

——

The rocks crunch under his feet as he walks up the wounded asphalt towards the diner, the mist in the air taming the poof in his hair as he struggles to get the cigarette lit. The hint of tobacco on his tongue teasing him as the gust off the shore snuffs out the flame every single time.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” dangling in his lips he stops for a second to switch positions so his back was facing the direction of the wind. “You’ve got to be shitting me.” Grumbling he snatches it out of his mouth in a huff before shoving it back in his pocket. Keeping his hands dug in into his jacket his face is set in a hard glare as he hits the parking lot of the diner. The inside gleams brightly and it’s the stark contrast to the dark moody-ness of his thoughts and the outside.

There’s families gathered in the windows laughing in the warmth of the light and he does his best to ignore the pang in his chest. Shoving down the realization of just how alone he really is now, he wasn’t ready to mentally unpack that yet.

Opening the single glass door of the entrance, the sound of the oldies station plays under the low hum of everyone’s chatter. Red vinyl covering the seats, a row of booths line the outside, the white walls barely visible decorated, covering almost every inch in various collectibles. The long bar attached to the kitchen extends down the length of the restaurant lined with stools.

Unlike the booths, the bar was filled with truckers and waderers. Hunched over their food alone in their thoughts. Taking a seat where he belonged the chain of his wallet clinks loudly against the metal of the stool.

The menu was already laid out on the formica counter top, just a page long the corners of the lamination are creased after obvious years of use. His eyes strain to read the red words that pop out against the white of the paper, the sleepless nights slowly catching up to his body. He tries pulling it further from his face to get a better look completely unaware of the pair of eyes watching him.

“Need some help with the menu?” A melodious voice breaks his concentration. Looking for the owner he comes face to face with you.

Almost as if someone knocked the wind out of him the softness of your features stuns him enough that he can’t find his voice. The dress you wear as a uniform wraps tightly around your curves and he fights his eyes from wandering. Hand on the counter in front of him you lean into his space, the smell of maple syrup hits his nose — sickly sweet he wants nothing more then to close his eyes and bask in it. Your warm gaze lands on his face and it feels like he’s looking up at the bright sun on a summer day. You didn’t look like you belonged here.

Realizing he hadn’t answered you, he clears his throat trying to shake his nerves. He was never good at talking to girls, especially not girls that looked like you and definitely not under these circumstances.

“You’re new around here.” You grin eyeing the slightly disheveled boy in front of you.

“Do you have burgers?” Blurting out his question he closes his eyes embarrassed when he realizes he’s ignored your observation too caught up to think straight. “Sorry.”

Laughing sweetly you take the menu from his hands finger tips brushing against his, the connection making his cheeks blossom pink.

“Sure do, how do you want it?” Pulling out your pocket sized note book from your apron, his eyes catch the red of your nail polish and for some reason it makes his cheeks deepen to match.

“Medium is —uh, is fine.” Scratching the back of his neck he watches the way your pen swoops gracefully against the paper.

“Fries okay?” Looking up at him from under your lashes his breath hitches loud enough for you to hear, the reaction making you bite your lip in a smile.

“Yeah, fries are, fries are great.” Exhaling loudly he gives you a tight lipped smile wishing he could bury his head in the sand.

“Anything to drink?” Ripping the page you turn around slipping it through the small window of the kitchen behind you. The line cook grabs it with a curt nod before you bring the full force of your stare back to him.

“Water is fine.” The sentence is short but he gets it out with out a hitch at least. Rubbing his hands nervously on his thighs he catches the mischievous glint dance around your eyes.

A small knowing smirk plays on your lips before walking away to the drink station at the other end of the long bar.

“Real fucking smooth.” Eddie grumbles to himself catching the attention of the trucker seated next to him.

“If that makes you feel any better son, I think she thought it was cute.” The gruffness of his voice reminds him of his Uncle, the few moments with you had made him almost forget about why he was here in the first place. Guilt slowly starting to eat away at him as he tries to re focus his thoughts, the familiar sting coming back to his eyes.

Before Eddie has a chance to respond your sliding the glass in front of him, eyes never leaving his as you pull out a straw from your front pocket. This time he’s strong enough to hold your gaze even if the red on his cheeks spreads to his neck.

“It’ll be like 15 minutes, Freddy’s pretty quick.” Nodding back towards the kitchen, Eddie tries to listen to you but he’s too focused on the sheen of your lip gloss. A sharp elbow to his side snaps him out of his trance, his new friend trying to help him out.

“Oh— okay, thanks.” Dropping his eyes down he brings all of his attention to unwrapping his straw, silently scolding himself for being even less smooth then the first interaction. The only reason he knows you’ve walked away is the loss of sweetness that settles in the air in your presence.

Shoving the straw in his drink, the ice clinks loudly against the glass before taking a big gulp. When the water washes over his tongue in a wave of rejuvenation, he closes his eyes humming in satisfaction sucking more then half the glass down before pushing it away with a wipe of his mouth. He can feel what the needed hydration does for him in his finger tips, his brain function starting to sharpen.

Chocolate eyes finding you again, he watches the way you move around the restaurant with ease. Everything you were doing seemed second nature, bending down to meet the kids at eye level he watched the families stare up at you with the same adoration on their faces. It wasn’t just him you effected like that, it was every one.

Cleaning off one of the booths, he watches you bend over the table — selfishly letting his eyes wander your body in the way he’d fought off before. Expertly stacking the dirty plates in your arms, you shove the cash tip they’d left in your apron. Turning on your heel you catch his stare, stopping for a brief moment before your lips tug up in a way that makes him avert his gaze — but even he knew it was too late. He’d been caught.

Closing his eyes when you walk by he inhales deeply, chasing the comfort your scent brings. You smelt like Sunday mornings with his mom, the only childhood memories he was fond of. He watched as you disappeared through the double doors of the kitchen, loud voices greeting you once you were hidden in the back. It was obvious you’d been here for awhile. The urge to try and piece together your story is a welcoming distraction from his own.

You aren’t back there long before you push back through with a toothy grin, shaking your head in amusement. An irrational hint of jealousy settles deep in his gut at whoever was making you laugh like that. The high pitch ding of the kitchen bell brings his attention back to the small window, a burger and fries so warm he could see the steam coming off the bun sit waiting for you to collect. Brain going empty he can feel himself start to salivate, his hunger taking front and center in his mind now.

Too focused on his food he has better self control of his eyes when you go to grab it. Sliding the plate in front of him Eddie mumbles a thank you before snatching the burger, ignoring the way it heats under his finger tips.

Taking a giant bite he immediately opens his mouth at the shock of the burn, his initial reaction to spit it out is stopped when he looks up to see you watching him with crossed arms as you lean against the back counter.

“I would have told you to give it a minute, but I thought that was obvious.” Teasing him, Eddie fans his open mouth searching for reprieve only swallowing it when the pain subsides. Taste buds inflamed and seared he takes another gulp of water basking in the way it soothes his mouth.

“Sorry, I haven’t really eaten all day.” Grabbing a fry he dunks it into the small ceramic cup filled with ketchup before tossing it into his mouth. Curious eyes land on yours making him wonder what’s keeping your attention as he eats with out manners.

“So, what are you running from?” Choking on his food at your question his eyes go wide, maybe the news had made it’s way over here.

“W-what do you mean?” Swallowing loudly his appetite suddenly disappears.

“I mean, I’ve never seen you before. People either move here to run from something or they’re just passing through.” You shrug as if your question was nonchalant. “So are you a runner or a wanderer?”

“What are you?” Eddie counters back arching a brow before taking another sip of water.

The smirk you give him is almost devilish when you push yourself off the counter invading his space again. The smell he can’t get enough of swirling around him in a dizzying effect.

“I’m a runner.” There’s something hidden behind your eyes that he can’t decipher when you give him your answer unashamed. “I told you mine, it’s your turn now.”

Of course you weren’t from here, how could you be?

“Runner.” He says simply already nervous he shared too much. Averting his eyes he plops another fry in his mouth before he remembers that this 15 dollar meal was gonna put a significant hole in his remaining funds.

Looking back up from his food he sees you’re already half way down the bar walking he hasn’t even asked you about the Now Hiring sign dangling from the window.

“Hey! — I mean wait.” Eddie’s outburst catches you and half the diners attention and despite his embarrassment he doesn’t miss the way your lips curve up when you make your way back to him.

“Yes?” Raising your eyebrows in question you plant both hands on the counter top in front of him leaning forward a stance that keeps his Eddie swimming.

“I saw your help wanted sign in the window.” Clearing his throat for more confidence “How would a runner apply for said job?”

“You haven’t even told me your name, and you don’t even know what we’re hiring for.” All valid points leave your mouth and he nods with a scratch of his head.

“It’s Eddie, Eddie Henderson.” He said it once and now he just has to roll with it, he’ll apologize to Dustin if he ever sees him again. “I’m not picky, I’ll do anything. Just in desperate need for some cash.”

“Well Eddie Henderson, I guess that means you’re planning on staying here long enough to get work huh?” Tongue poking the side of your cheek he can tell there’s ideas bouncing around in your head.

“Yeah, for a little bit.” Eddie didn’t want to tell you that his time here was numbered in the single digits or that he needed the work so he wouldn’t become completely homeless in the next few days while he ran from the law.

Blowing out a loud breath, you drum your hands on the counter before turning around towards the white board behind you with various names and schedules scribbled on it. He wondered which was you. Grabbing an application from the stack that was pinned on the board you turn back around around pulling a pen from your pocket. Clicking it open you set it down for him to fill out.

Eddie wastes no time in scribbling out his fake information, chest swelling with excitement. He didn’t think it would be this easy and despite your stare making him nervous he could feel his own smile pull at his lips just for a moment.

“I’m just gonna need an ID to show my boss.”

The sentence leaves your mouth and Eddie wants to fucking scream, his grip on the pen becoming so hard he was close to snapping it in half. It was an issue at the motel why wouldn’t be an issue here? It’s not like he didn’t have one, it just had all of his real information on it. Information that had the potential to get him caught.

“I- I don’t have one.” It’s quiet when it leaves his mouth voice shaking and defeated. Meeting your eyes again he notices how they soften as if you could read his mind.

“You moved to a new town without any ID?” You question is gentle when it comes out watching the way his shoulders slump. The first smile you’d seen grace his handsome features slowly fading away.

“I’m afraid I can’t give this to him with out some kind of proof as to who you are.” It’s lame when it comes out of your mouth and you wish it could be different when you watch his big doe eyes glass over.

“It’s fine, I’ll figure something out. I appreciate the help none the less.” Eddie gives slight nod pushing the application away, his brain already starting to reel with no back up plan lined up. He feels fucking stupid.

Unsure how to comfort the cute mysterious stranger you shove your pen back in your pocket giving him your most apologetic look. The air shifting into something that felt like you should give him privacy— you walk away as he digs for his wallet.

Throwing a twenty on the table, he’s too embarrassed to even ask for the discount. He takes one last big bite of his burger before goes to stand up, the sudden urge to sleep becoming over powering with the hope a better idea would come to him tomorrow.

“Hey, actually.” Your honeyed voice drips through his very obvious despair.

Stopping him before he had a chance to leave, Eddie’s chestnut eyes meet yours in question.

Biting at your bottom lip, he can tell your nervous to ask him whatever was bouncing around in your head.

“Do you know anything about cars?” The thought of your late grandmothers car sitting motionless in your drive way comes to mind and how desperate you were for a pair of working wheels.

“I mean I’m no mechanic, but I can do the basics.” He offers back with a shrug.

“Good enough for me, I live by the beach not far from the motel down the road, it’s a shitty yellow house you can’t miss it. I’ve got a car you can come look at tomorrow, if you think you can fix it I’ll hire you myself.” Eddie doesn’t know why you’re being so nice to him but he’s not going to turn you down the offer. Even if he can’t fix it, he sure as shit was going to figure out how.

“Alright, sure yeah, I’ll come by.” Trying to contain his excitement the smile you’d already missed comes creeping back to his face.

“Perfect, I’ll see you around 10? I’ve gotta work at 4 so that should be plenty of time for you to come take a look yeah?” Not wanting to tease that six hours is plenty of time to do a normal check up on a car he just nods instead.

“I’ll be there at 10.” With a nod of his head and the first genuine smile on his face in days, he pushes back out into the developing storm.

——

Head swirling with the events of the day the cheap motel bed moans under his weight as he stares up at the water marks on the ceiling tile. The feathers of the pillows underneath him bring back the heaviness of his eyelids as all the muscles in his body finally relax. The fear of sleep slowly slipping to the back of his mind when the softness of your smile replays on a loop behind closed eyes.

——-

Taglist: @newlips @bimbobaggins69 @munsonology @triplethreat77 @edsforehead @manda-panda-monium @emotionaldreamer @eddiesprincess86 @micheledawn1975 @lil-graveling @b-irock @munsonmunster

If I missed anyone please let me know!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson series #eddie munson slow burn #joseph quinn

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msmk11 · 17 days

Text

Never Ever

Tony Stark x fem!reader

WC: 1.3k

CW: Fluff; mentions of lunch?; Tony Stark being a gentleman 😅

Summary: Your new boss never ever does one-on-ones

Day 28 of mk’s mad dash

You’re finally starting to feel your first-day-nerves settle, and it’s a relief. After getting some one-on-one time this morning with Natasha, your boss’ previous assistant, the job doesn’t seem all that bad.

Though first-day nerves are normal, you suppose they’ve been exacerbated by the fact that you would be working for Avenger and billionaire Tony Stark. Natasha has assured you that despite his powers and influence, he’s really all bark and no bite, and that you’ll have no problem “handling him.”

Still, it’s hard to know if you 100% believe her, seeing as you’ve yet to actually meet your boss.

Regardless, Natasha has just left you to go to some Avengers meeting, so you feel relieved to know that you probably have a solid hour before you finally, hopefully (or not hopefully) meet Mr. Stark.

You decide that your first order of business is to decorate your desk with a few keepsakes from home and pictures of your friends and family.

Right in between your two monitors you set your little rubber ducks- one pink and one yellow. You neatly set out your dark blue coffee mug in the right corner and a picture frame of your cat in the other.

The last things to go up are your pictures. With a handful of thumb tacks, you stick them on the cork board walls surrounding your desk. A couple of the pictures you put up are you with your family- all of you bearing happy smiles on vacation or a holiday. Others are with your friends- your roommates from college, your old high school coworker, and your childhood best friend, Thomas.

“Is that your boyfriend?”

As you adjust the picture of you and Thomas you smirk. It’s a question you’ve both gotten many times, and the answer is always “No. that’s my best friend Tho-“

You look up from the picture and stop mid-sentence, eyes widening as you realize that you’re talking so very casually to none other than your boss.

“Oh! Uhm, Mr. Stark! Hi!” You stutter, introducing yourself, “I’m your new assistant.”

You cringe, “though I’m sure you figured that much out yourself.”

Your boss scans you seriously and then breaks out a smirk, “Please, loosen up around me- I’m just your average playboy, billionaire, superhero. And call me Tony. Mr. Stark was my father’s name.”

An exasperated chuckle escapes you and you nod, “right, okay. Sorry, Tony. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

The brunette motions for you to follow him and you oblige.

“You as well. You know, Natasha spoke very highly of you after your interview, so I’ve been very curious to meet the one who impressed the Black Widow.”

Heat creeps to your cheeks against your will, and you’re glad Tony is looking forward as he walks and not at you.

“I guess I’ll have to thank her for the glowing recommendation.”

You arrive outside what you assume is Tony’s office- given its size and grandeur.

Tony confirms your suspicions a second later. He opens the door and gestures for you to go in first.

You let out a meek thank you and scurry in, moving off to the side so he can follow. His office is impressive to say the least. It’s spacious and really, really fancy. His desk is made of the sleekest dark wood with two high-tech computers adorning its surface. Tony has the most wonderful view too- a huge window looking out onto the rooftops of New York’s most beautiful skyscrapers.

An “oh wow,” escapes your lips before you can stop it.

Your boss lets out a chuckle at your awe and nods for you to go look. You make your way over to the window and lean your hands against the windowsill.

“I already knew I loved New York. But this. I mean, wow.”

Tony joins you, standing at your side, “it is quite a view.”

The awe in his voice is obvious and you glance over at him. But he’s not looking at the city. He’s already looking at you.

“Yeah, it is,” you say, trailing off.

Your boss holds your gaze for a second before clearing his throat and looking away.

“Anyways, I just wanted to get you acquainted with where my office is and get to know you a little. I’m assuming Natasha explained all your tasks to you?”

You nod, “Yes, she did. But…sorry, I hope you don’t mind me asking, don’t you have an Avengers meeting right now?”

Tony looks down at his watch and curses, “Steve is going to kill me.”

Then he looks up at you with a smirk, “Already doing pretty damn good at your job though.”

He heads towards his office door but hesitates when he grabs the handle, “I stand by what I said, by the way. I do want to get to know you. Lunch is on me today, at noon. You can meet me out in the lobby.”

Once you nod affirmatively at him, Tony opens the door and leaves, another muttered curse reaching your ears as you follow him out.

You’ve just finished the last of your paperwork before lunch when Natasha sidles up to your desk.

“Hey hot stuff,” she teases.

You give her a weird look, “Heyyyy Natasha?”

“So, a little birdie told me that Tony’s taking you out to lunch.”

Excitement overtakes your confusion, “oh yeah! He is! I actually need to be down in the lobby in five minutes.”

Natasha smiles at you like she knows something you don’t.

“What?!”

“Is this Tony’s new assistant?” a voice adds.

It’s a man- Hawkeye, you think.

He extends his hand with a smirk, “My name’s Clint, nice to meet you.”

You shake his hand firmly, but your eyes don’t leave the redhead’s face.

“Pleasure, really. But what’s going on, Natasha?”

“Tony’s taking you to lunch,” she huffs.

“Yeah? And? It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a huge deal,” a third voice adds.

This one, you know for sure.

Pepper Potts.

“It’s just lunch,” you sigh, exasperatedly.

“Stark doesn’t do ‘just lunch’,” Clint tells you matter-of-factly, “never ever.”

“Not when I was his assistant,” Natasha states.

“Or when I was before Natasha,” Pepper adds.

“Tony does company lunches sure, but never ever one-on-one,” Clint finishes.

Your stomach flips nervously in your stomach.

“So then why me? Why how?”

The redhead looks at you with that smirk of hers again, “who’s to know?”

She looks at her watch, “and I believe you’ll be late if you don’t leave now.”

You jump up from your chair, cursing.

“We’ll talk later.”

You try to ignore the eyes that follow you as you walk to the elevator.

For as tall as the building is, the ride down in the elevator is fast. When you emerge into the lobby, you’re relieved to find that you beat Tony downstairs.

Only by a few seconds though, it seems, because he emerges from another elevator only moments later.

He spots you instantly and gives you the smile you always see him use on the news.

When he approaches you, he brushes your arm gently, guiding the both of you to where his car is stowed away- A car that is nicer than anything you’ve ever seen, nicer even than your own home.

Like a gentleman, your boss grabs your door before you can and opens it for you. He extends his other hand to help you into the low-riding car and you willingly accept. When your palms touch, a spark shoots up your arm and you just barely withhold a shiver.

Then, the door shuts resoundly.

*****

You don’t bother reaching for your door handle, because you know you’ll only be stopped before you even get the chance.

Tony is around to the passenger side door so fast you wonder if he hopped out while the car was still rolling.

The brunette holds out his hand to help you out of the car and sparks run through your body at his touch, even after all this time.

Once he’s shut the door behind you, his hand moves from yours to wrap around your waist and rest lovingly on your hip.

“Why thank you, Mr. Stark,” you tease, “quite the gentleman.”

Tony presses a searing kiss to your lips that sends your stomach up in butterflies.

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Stark.”

#mk's mad dash #tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark x female reader #ceo!tony stark #tony stark fluff #tony stark fic #iron man #the avengers #mcu #mcu fandom #mcu fanfiction #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark self-insert #marvel tony stark

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starlightsuffered · 2 months

Text

Bus Trip

Info - fluff, small injury, a little anxiety, Timothée pov

I sighed heavily as I loaded my luggage on the bus. I was not looking forward to this cramped journey. I’d met up with some of my French friends in Canada, as they said this was the closest to America they were willing to get. I’d decided to take a bus back to New York. I really didn’t want to be driving with all the thunderstorms lately. It freaked me out. But so did this. I felt rather like a sardine.

“Is this row J seat two?” Asked a small voice. I turned to see a very pretty girl. She looked like she was trying her best to be confident, but was a bit frightened.

“Oh, um, yes, guess you’re beside me,” I said, giving her a reassuring smile. She nodded resolutely. She was attempting to lift her bag into the overhead compartment. The poor thing wasn’t nearly tall enough.

“Would you like some help?” I asked her gently.

“Oh are you sure?” She asked, but I could see the pleading in her expression.

“It’s no problem,” I shrugged. I grabbed the bag and slung it up beside mine. I gave her a smile.

“Thank you so much,” she said earnestly.

“Oh don’t even worry about it,” I brushed it off.

We settled in our seats. I noticed her hands making nervous movements. She touched the pad of her thumb to each other finger over and over as if playing some sort of odd instrument.

“You okay?” I finally asked.

“Just a bit nervous,” she explained.

“Why?”

“Well I’ve never taken a bus before. I live in the states and I have family in Canada. Usually, my family all drives up and down together. I wanted to stay longer this year so I booked a bus ticket back but…..”

“But?”

“Well I’m accident prone in the oddest ways. I’m sure something weird will happen on this trip, or I’ll miss a switch, or get sick, or something,” she said awkwardly.

“Well if I can be of any help let me know. I’m going back to New York, so I should be with you most of the way,” I offered.

“Oh thank you, that actually does make me feel better,” she said sheepishly.

“I’m Timothée by the way,” I told her.

“Y/n,” she smiled. I felt a blush creep onto my cheeks. She was very cute.

As the trip started, I noticed her eyes darting about through the window. She was closer to it than I was. I was so curious about what she was doing.

“What are you doing?”

“Huh?” She asked, not taking her eyes away from the window.

“You’re so focused on the road but you aren’t driving,” I said, trying to sound joking and not rude.

“Oh, I’m playing the alphabet game. Where you try to find every letter of the alphabet on signs and license plates. Usually you play against someone else, but I always make it challenge for myself. I’m already on Q.”

“I’ll play you,” I offered casually. Finally, her gaze whipped away from the road. She looked at me with such sweet hope I could’ve melted.

“Really?” She asked in near disbelief.

“Yeah,” I chuckled. “If we can start over that is.”

“No one ever wants to play with me,” she said with excitement. “Okay, one, two, three, go!”

“Z! I win again,” she crowed. One game had turned into three. She’d won every time. I hadn’t let her, but her cheering when she did was adorable.

“Alright, I’ll let you get to whatever you brought to occupy yourself with. I don’t mean to take up all your time with games,” she chuckled.

“No, I was having fun,” I told her honestly. “Do you have any more games?”

“Are you serious?” She asked with large eyes.

“Yes…”

“I’ve got loads!” She chuckled. “Let’s play the ranking game.”

She got a pen and notebook from her carry on. She made a list of 1 to 10. She explained to me that 1 meant the hottest and 10 the least hot. She told me she’d give celebrities and I had to put them at a place on the list without knowing who was coming next.

“Florence Pugh at five!” She exclaimed half way through the game.

“I know I know,” I groaned. “I’ve royally fucked this list up.”

“I mean come on Timothée,” she teased.

“Well all I had left were slots 10,5, and 1, and I wanted to save slots 1 and 10,” I tried to explain.

“Yeah, but in no world is Florence Pugh a five, you should have just put her at one for safety reasons,” she said knowledgeably.

“Alright, alright, next person please,” I asked.

“Selma Hayek,” she gave me next.

“Ten,” I said tentatively.

“She’s a total MILF,” y/n said, tossing a piece of Candy i’d offered her at me.

“I made my choice, which leaves my one up to fate,” I lifted my hands.

“Or up to the game master,” she said with a smirk.

“Hmmmmm,” she looked at the secret list of names she had hidden away from me. “This means your one issssss, Zendaya!”

“Oh thank you merciful goddess,” I said in a dramatic voice, nearly draping myself over her. She was giggling, but an older couple shushed us.

“That was fun,” I told her.

We ended up playing M.A.S.H, tik tack toe, battleship on our phones, and would you rather. However, after a while she kept yawning. I could tell she was enjoying herself but her eyelids looked heavy.

“Why don’t you get some rest, this whole thing is a twenty-four hour trip. You need to sleep sometime,” I told her.

“You’re probably right,” she agreed.

We both got settled. Soon, the lights in the bud were dimmed. I put on my headphones so I could listen to some music and not the snoring of the others in the bus. Soon the driving became lulling, and the rain that started gave a comforting ambiance.

Once during the trip, I woke up. It was pitch black outside. However, I felt a weight on my shoulder. I looked to see that y/n, in her sleep, had shifted to lay on my shoulder. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I hunched down a bit so her neck wouldn’t hurt. I was much taller than her after all. Tentatively, I laid my head on hers for a second. I bit my lip. It felt good, but I couldn’t stay like that in good conscience. She’d done it without meaning to, and I shouldn’t do it without permission.

“End of the road folks!” Came the loud voice of the driver. It was time for us to switch buses.

“Oh shit, Timothée I’m sorry,” she said in alarm as she woke up.

“Huh?” I feigned not knowing what she was talking about.

“I didn’t mean to lean on you, is your shoulder okay? I hope I wasn’t too heavy,” she said as she gathered her things and blushed.

“Y/n, it was your head, not an elephant. It was comfortable, don’t worry,” I told her nonchalantly.

Y/n looked increasingly worried as the crowd began to grow. She was looking around the station at all the different buses. She gulped uncomfortably. I had both hands full so I couldn’t guide her, but I came up beside her.

“What’s your state?” I asked. She told me and I knew she’d be with me.

“Just follow me,” I reassured her.

I led her through the throngs of people and we found our bus. We made it back to our seats. I was happy we were placed together again. I was starting to really enjoy this girl’s company.

“Oh thank you, I can finally relax,” she sighed. “Just one more ride and then home.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

We began to talk again. She told me she was a teacher. I told her I was trying to be an actor. She said she wished her school had an acting program. She told me how she used to write plays and skits for some of her friends, and they would act them out.

“No, Avocado tastes like grass,” she rolled her eyes at me playfully.

“It’s good!” I exclaimed.

“Maybe if you’re a -“

Tires screeched. The driver called out. Before I knew what was happening I’d thrown out my arm to protect y/n, but my face was slammed forward into the seat in front of me.

“Holy shit,” y/n said when everything had been righted. She then looked down at how I had held her back.

“Y-you, you didn’t block yourself?” She asked.

“Is that bad?” I asked, feeling dazed and sore.

“You’re bleeding!” She cried, without answering my question. She yanked tissues from her carry on. She pressed them against my nose. She gently guided me so that my head was ripped back. My cheeks were bright red.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t even hurt,” I mumbled. She was stroking my cheek absentmindedly.

“Well I would hate to mar your pretty face,” she said lightly.

“You think I’m pretty?” I asked, eyes shifting to her. She smiled but didn’t meet my gaze, she was still looking for more injuries.

“Maybe a little,” she whispered.

“Well I think you are,” I admitted.

“Thank you,” she answered, biting her lip.

Thankfully my nose stopped bleeding. We talked on and off for the rest of the journey.

“Do you believe in fate?” She asked me suddenly.

“Fate?”

“Like destiny? Like, I don’t know, it feels like this was almost meant to be. What if everything was meant to work out so that we met one another on this trip,” she explained.

“No, I don’t,” I admitted.

“Yeah, probably stupid,” she said, sounding ashamed.

“It isn’t stupid,” I said, touching her arm. “I just have a difference of opinion. That doesn’t mean this hasn’t been fun or special. Perhaps not everything lined up perfectly in the universe to make this happen. Maybe it’s just random, but that’s important too. It’s important we make the most of the situations we’re in, and we’re doing that.”

“You know Timothée, you’re a good guy,” she said with a soft smile.

“Oh, thank you,” I said in surprise. “I think you’re good too.”

“Thank you,” she responded.

I really didn’t ever want this to end. I felt like I was on a lovely date that was going so well I didn’t want it to be over. Unfortunately, my stop was before hers.

“Well, I guess I’ve got to get off here,” I said sadly.

“Aw it’s going to be boring without you,” she said earnestly.

“Could, I, um, could I give you my number?” I asked, feeling shy suddenly.

“Yes!” She agreed enthusiastically. I watched her light up like a firework. I hadn’t anticipated the gorgeous stars in her eyes.

I quickly programmed my number into her phone. She laughed when she saw I’d named myself “Hot Bus Guy👃🏻🩸” she told me goodbye and gave me a hug.

I was finally back home, but I felt lonely. I couldn’t believe a simple bus trip could change so much. I felt like I’d left a life long friend. That’s when my phone pinged.

“I miss you already” - unknown number.

“This is y/n btw” - unknown number.

I smiled at my screen. I could already tell that wouldn’t be the last time I saw her.

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming

#reader insert #x reader #timothee chalamet #timothee chamalet #timothee fanfic #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothee x y/n #timothee x you #timothée chalamet #bus ride #bus trip

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katyswrites · 2 years

Text

'tis the damn season

PART 4 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), angst, friends-with-benefits, parental neglect/abuse, smoking, alcohol use, two fools who can’t just say what they feel

Wordcount: 9.1k

Childhood friends-to-lovers-to-strangers-to-lovers again, broken promises, and roads not taken, lots of angst, soft smut, illicit affairs, what-ifs, and it’s always been you. And it all leads to your hometown, during Christmas break.

Part 4 | the warmest bed I’ve ever known

THEN, Spring 1988

“Wait, what?” Robin cried in disbelief.

You sighed, twirling the phone’s cord in your hand.

“Robin, look -”

“You mean I’m not going to see you at all? You’re killing me here -”

“Robin! It’s just… this is a really big opportunity. And, I’ve got my own place here now, and flights have gotten crazy expensive -”

You heard Robin laugh through the phone, then a sigh.

“You know I’m fucking with you, right?”

A small wave of relief washed over you - you had been dreading this call, so much that you’d been putting it off for over a week.

“You are?”

“Yeah! I mean - I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty bummed that you’re not coming back to Hawkins. I miss you like crazy. But, that’s so exciting… like, an internship with the New York Times? I mean, you’re really doing it - making it in the big city, all of that -”

You smiled, and flopped down on your bed, clutching the phone.

“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly glamorous - it’s an unpaid internship, and I’m taking extra shifts at the coffee shop to make it all work, with two roommates -”

“Yeah, but… it’s all pretty amazing. You’re really getting out, doing what you’ve always wanted. And I mean, me and Steve are still stuck back here -”

You twinged inwardly at the mention of his name, and were suddenly thankful that Robin couldn’t see you right then.

“Oh c’mon - don’t talk like that. I mean, you said the semester’s going well, right?”

Robin sighed, and you could picture the way she was probably rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, at Hawkins Community - but, I’m thinking of transferring next year. Not sure if I can afford it though.”

“There’s nothing wrong with community college, Robin. I’ve told you that like a million times -”

“It’s not the school itself, you know that. I just… you actually got out, away from Hawkins. The most interesting thing here is the movie theater, and only one screen is working right now, did you know that?”

You bit your lip, and searched for the words - you couldn’t argue with her there. But, Robin carried on, the way she often did:

“But, to be honest, it’s probably good that I’m sticking around here - without me here, God knows what would happen to Steve. I think we’re a little codependent, to be honest - did you tell him yet, that you’re not coming back for spring break, or the summer? I can, if you want, but I didn’t know -”

“Oh, uh - I mean, you can, if you want,” you answered quickly. “No need to make a big deal out of it, but, um… I don’t care if he knows, I guess. He’ll figure it out, when I don’t show up, anyways.”

You were aware that you were stammering, your heartbeat quickening and palms growing clammy at the thought of Steve. In the days following your argument, you had found yourself spiraling, thinking of nothing but Steve. There were a million times that you thought about calling him, or driving to his house, or even writing him a letter - but the idea of facing him again was enough to make you sick. In the end, you had headed back to New York in the new year, and subconsciously made a vow to never see him again. When you had received the summer internship offer, and the chance to renew the lease on your apartment, you had jumped at the opportunity.

You hadn’t told Robin about what happened between you and Steve - it felt wrong to lie, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to talk about it. But you had somewhat assumed that he would say something - those two were inseparable. If she knew anything, though, she wasn’t letting it on. In fact, she was talking about Steve like things were completely normal, which was lending itself to awkward conversations like this.

“Um, okay… by the way, just between you and me, I think he really misses you.”

You stiffened, and cursed yourself for your sharp intake of breath - Robin probably heard that.

“You think so?” you asked, trying your best to keep your tone steady.

“I mean, yeah - whenever I bring you up, he gets kind of weird… I can’t really explain it. He usually talks to me about these things, but… it doesn’t matter. I love him, but he can be such a guy sometimes, you know? But, I think he’s going to be sorry to hear you’re ditching us, that’s all.”

No, you thought. He’ll actually be thrilled to know he doesn’t have to see me again.

The thought alone was enough to make your eyes start to burn with tears, and you soon had to make a lame excuse to hang up the phone. And once again, you were alone.

NOW, Winter 1988

For the two days following your conversation with Robin, where you had confessed everything, you find yourself spiraling. Maybe it’s just the run-in with Steve that had done this, the reminder that he’s real and here, only minutes away - in New York, it had been easy to keep him off of your mind. But, now, everything reminds you of him - driving past your old high school, the small Methodist church on the corner, the movie theater at the center of town, or the footprint of where Starcourt Mall used to be, bringing you back to that one summer when he scooped ice cream in that ridiculous sailor uniform. You feel him in the chilly winter wind, in the bare trees lining the sidewalks, in the smell of fireplace smoke drifting through the atmosphere on especially cold nights. And you hear him in the music on the radio, when that one Wham! song comes on, and you picture him rolling his eyes and smiling endearingly and you belted it in his face.

You had thought that being back in Hawkins would feel strange, after being away so long. But no, it’s worse - it aches.

But, Christmas is on its way, and you throw yourself into holiday prep in full force. You decide to not think about Steve, to the best of your ability. You gather and wrap gifts, help hang lights over the fireplace, and finish addressing the last-minute Christmas cards that your mother forgot to send out. Then, comes the baking - you’re always tasked with it, making cakes and cookies and confections for all of the parties, including your special lemon cake, saved for an indulgent breakfast on Christmas morning. It’s what brings you to the grocery store in the afternoon, with a long list of baking essentials. The store is a bit of a zoo, with Christmas only about a week away, and you find yourself shouldering down the aisle labeled ‘Baking Needs.’ It’s slim pickings, and you inwardly groan as you have to get the more expensive brand-name baking soda. You’re so preoccupied that you’re intentionally drowning out the sounds of the people around you, scanning your handwritten list with a furrowed brow.

Okay, you think, I’ve got the eggs, lemons, flour, sugar, unsalted butter -

It’s why you hardly see him, not until you’re looking up and moving again, nearly crashing your cart right into him.

“Oh my - oh, hey,” you say, your voice getting caught in your throat when you realize who it is.

Steve stares back at you, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. He looks just as he did a few days ago, a bit changed from the boy you last saw a year ago. But, he’s still Steve, and he’s standing in the middle of the grocery aisle right in front of you. The mundanity of it all somehow makes it seem more unbelievable, more exasperating. To his credit, he’s frozen in place, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

“Hey,” he replies softly.

You both stare at each other, almost filling the silence, then stopping - what is there even to say? Shoppers weave around you, muttering to themselves, crackly Christmas music playing through the store’s sound system. But you may as well be able to hear a pin drop, because you can’t find a single thing to say, and neither can Steve.

“I - um - what are you doing?” Steve asks. You glance down at you cart, full of chocolate and flour and absolutely nothing practical, then shrug.

“Oh, you know - buying stuff for Christmas baking. My parents are busy with work, and I’m the one who knows what to get anyways, so… yeah.”

It’s stiff, and awkward, and a ridiculous exchange to even be having. He just nods.

“Oh, yeah - the great Christmas baking extravaganza.”

Right - three years ago, Steve had been there to help you, letting you instruct him around the kitchen, and the cookies had nearly burned because you two got… distracted. You shake the memory, feeling sick.

“Oh - yeah. I think I’m making my chai cookies for your party, actually… your mom told my mom that she really liked those.”

He raises his eyebrows at that, curious.

“You’re - you’re coming to the party on Saturday?”

“I - well, yeah. I didn’t think I was, but… my mom was pretty insistent.”

Something flickers across his face then, something unreadable, then his expression hardens.

“Right, yeah -makes sense. I mean, that you’re coming because of your mom.”

His words are clipped, his voice sharp. Fuck.

You just wish, more than anything, that the ground will open up beneath you and swallow you up, if it means getting out of this encounter. But, miracles don’t happen often, so you have to swallow your pride and face him instead. You sigh, looking down at your cart.

“Steve, I - that’s not what I meant. Well, I guess it is, but - I figured you didn’t really want to see me. And I’m not going to make you uncomfortable in your house, that’s not fair.”

Just silence from him, and you can’t look at him. You just find yourself focusing on a bag of flour in the cart, reading the label as you try to figure out something else to say.

“But, it seems the world just wants us to run into each other anyway, apparently,” you mumble.

“Hm, yeah, I guess,” Steve says coldly. Another moment passes, just the two of you in the grocery aisle - somehow, of everyone in the store, he’s the only one who truly seems like a stranger.

“Well, uh - I guess I’ll see you on Saturday,” you say quickly, finally bringing your eyes back up to meet his. “I - I’ll try to stay out of your way, though. It’s the least I can do.”

You make a move to keep pushing your cart, but Steve just sighs.

“Hey, wait -”

Despite yourself, you stop in your tracks, frozen. You look back at him, and there’s a question in his eyes, searching your face for… something.

“Yeah?” you reply.

“I, uh - are you free later today?”

You furrow your brow, and nod cautiously.

“Um, yes - I mean, I think I should be. I have a couple of other errands to run, but I don’t think it’s going to take super long -”

“You want to meet at Gateway? And like, get a coffee, or something?”

You feel your stomach twist and turn into knots - there’s something in his voice, the harsh edge softened just a bit, pleading for you. And he’s staring at you with those honey brown eyes, and you know one thing - if you say no, that’s it - the nail in the coffin. So you swallow, and nod slowly.

“Yeah - sure thing.”

He nods curtly, and glances at his watch.

“Okay, well - it’s noon, so want to say like, around 2?”

“Mm hm - that’s fine. I’ll meet you there, I guess.”

You let your gaze linger on Steve for a moment longer, then turn and walk down the aisle, pretending to look at your shopping list. You wonder if he’s still staring at you - but you don’t dare to turn around to find out.

*****

You arrive at Gateway Diner at 1:56 pm. Steve is never on time for anything, that much you know - so you sit in your car for a moment, gathering yourself. You take a few deep breaths, shutting your eyes and resting your head against the wheel. You feel a bit sick, your mind in a haze ever since the conversation in the grocery store a few hours ago. Coming back to Hawkins was a huge mistake, Christmas be damned -

You take a moment to glance at yourself in the mirror, and sigh - if you had known this was happening today…

You fish around in your bag, silently thanking yourself for always carrying around a little concealer and mascara. You do your best with your finger to cover the dark circles under your eyes, hastily dabbing in the concealer until it’s deemed good enough. As you quickly run mascara over your lashes, you laugh to yourself, feeling like a fool - but, it doesn’t stop you, nor does it stop you from finally getting out of the car. You take one more deep breath in the chilly December air - you can do this.

When you enter the diner, your cold cheeks burn as they meet the warm air. It’s thick with the sounds of chatter and silverware, the smell of greasy food wafting from the kitchen. It had been so long since you had last been here, and somehow, you actually feel like you’re somewhere familiar for the first time all week.

You try to catch the eye of the girl behind the counter to be seated - someone new, she might even still be in high school - but before you can, you hear an all-too-familiar voice call your name. You whip your head towards it, and see Steve sitting at a booth by the window, waving in your direction.

You nod and head over, each step feeling impossible as you grow closer to him. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve run into him, you realize - you’ll never quite get used to the sight of him, not anymore.

He already has a mug of coffee in front of him, halfway done, by the looks of it. He got here early, and waited, you realize with dread. Fuck.

“Hey,” he says, offering a small smile as you slide into the vinyl booth.

“Hey,” you parrot. He’s just staring at you, and you suddenly find yourself fidgeting. Unsure what to do with your hands, you just fold them flat on the table, suddenly making this whole thing feel like a business meeting between colleagues. No, worse than that: you’re strangers.

“Thanks for coming,” he says quietly. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

You shrug, staring down at the full cup of coffee sitting in front of you - he must’ve ordered it for you.

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure I would, either.”

It’s brutal, but honest - his face falters slightly, but to his credit, he recovers quickly.

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

Silence again. Heavy, awkward. You fumble with one of the little creamers, pouring it into your coffee and avoiding eye contact as you busy yourself.

“So,” he starts, “uh - how’s New York been?”

You shrug, stirring the coffee with a spoon.

“Fine. I mean, good - really busy. I’m still interning with the Times. And, working at this coffee place downtown. But, it’s cool, because I’m actually doing stuff. Like, I don’t just grab coffee - I get to sit in on meetings, they listen to my ideas, let me look over stuff as it gets edited - I’m learning a lot.”

You find yourself rambling, carrying on with details he probably doesn’t care about, because somehow it’s better than that godawful silence. Steve, to his credit, is at least pretending to be a good listener - he’s looking at you intently, hanging on each word as you carry on about your apartment, your roommates, the breaking news article you practically stayed overnight in the office to help get published.

“- I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was exhausted, but it was worth it - there was this thrill to it, knowing that I helped to make that happen, and it was on the front page. Below the fold, but still -”

“That’s amazing,” he says quietly. You stop, and meet his eyes. He’s just looking at you, face soft, and something tells you he actually means it. Bastard.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s what you’ve always wanted - for as long as I remember. So, that’s awesome, really. Did they put your name?”

You raise your eyebrow, confused.

“What?”

“Your name. On the byline? You always said that was your dream - to have your byline on the front of the Times.”

You hesitate for a moment, completely caught off-guard - you don’t even remember telling him that. But he does.

“Oh, that. Well, no. But, I didn’t write it, exactly - I called some sources, did some editing, but… it wasn’t exactly mine.”

He shakes his head as he raises the coffee mug to his lips.

“That’s still not right - you deserve it. I’ll march down there and tell ‘em that myself.”

You feel something flutter in your chest, in a way that’s achingly familiar, because it’s so Steve.

“Yes, well - I think I can handle that for myself, thanks.”

It’s meant to be a joke, but sounds more defensive than you intend - did you intend it that way? But, you can't think on it, because the wall is put back up. You can see it in his face, how it hardens, how he straightens up a bit - he was just starting to relax, both of you were, but that iciness remains.

Before you can say anything, a waitress is approaching, carrying a tray full of food. You vaguely recognize her - middle-aged, with a friendly face and massive perm. Is her name Joan, maybe? You feel just a little sad, starting to feel more detached from the town you grew up in than you ever have before.

“The full breakfast for you, young man - and a full stack for you, with extra syrup,” she says enthusiastically.

You look at Steve, and raise an eyebrow. He just offers a small smile, and shrugs.

“I ordered before you got here - I figured you’d never say no to pancakes, right?”

“I - yeah, no, that’s great. Thanks, Steve.”

You set yourself on pouring the side of syrup over the plate, and Steve just shakes his head.

“So I was right - you still like to drench everything in sight in syrup,” he says playfully.

“Shut up,” you retort, earning a chuckle from him. It’s slightly forced, but still nice to hear - you hadn’t been sure if you remembered what his laugh sounds like anymore.

“Thanks, though,” you add. “I’m actually pretty hungry.”

You both sit in silence while you eat. It’s strange, how something can be simultaneously so uncomfortable yet familiar. The booth is the same, with its worn vinyl, the sticky tabletop, the smell of coffee and syrup and eggs settling wrapping around you like a warm hug. But then there’s you and Steve, the only unrecognizable thing in this diner - still technically the same people who had slid into this booth as teenagers, but a bit older, more hardened, and something irreparable separating you.

“So,” you say after a while. “Uh, I realize I talked a lot about myself, but… how are things with you?”

He glances up at you for a moment, and shrugs.

“Oh, you know - the same. Working at Family Video, hanging out with Robin, the kids - I guess they’re hardly kids anymore. But, you know me - not much to report.”

There’s an edge to his voice, and it takes you a moment to remember why. You had managed to block out most of your argument from last winter, because the memory of it riddles you with an immeasurable guilt. But, you remember now:

Uproot your life? Be serious Steve - you couldn’t take a week off from your minimum wage job, chauffeuring a bunch of teenagers, and maybe being Daddy’s punching bag?

You suddenly want to sink into the floor, because if Steve is intentionally giving you a cold shoulder, you can’t say you don’t deserve it. But, wasn’t him asking you to meet him here, his way of extending an olive branch? Or, was it just to get some closure?

It’s an elephant in the room, this great big thing making it impossible to be near him, making your stomach turn intermittently. So, it has to be addressed, eventually - it needs to be ripped off like a band-aid.

“Hey, Steve - I… I’m sorry.”

He looks up at you, meeting your eyes properly.

“What for?” he asks quietly.

You sigh, placing down your fork.

“You know what for,” you say firmly.

“Do I?”

He’s playing a game, his words a little more biting. This is going to be even harder than you thought, you realize - and you had already been prepared for it to be godawful.

“I - last time I saw you… I said some things I regret. Some really shitty things. And, you didn’t deserve that. I -” you steady yourself for a moment, taking a deep breath to combat the heaviness in your throat. Your chest is tight, your palms clammy.

“I just, um - I’ve played that argument in my head, like, a million times. And, I’ve felt a lot of things. Sometimes I get angry, upset, or just plain sad. But most of the time… I just feel shame. Like, utter, fucking shame. So, it may not mean much at this point, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fix this but… I’m sorry.”

You do mean it, every word, and there’s something unbelievably cathartic about finally saying the words that have been playing through your mind for a year. You’ve played this conversation in your mind a thousand times, and for once, you think that maybe you’re not screwing it up.

Steve’s face is unreadable - you can tell he’s thinking, and listening, but it’s hard to gauge what he’s really thinking.

After a moment, he simply asks, “Then why did you leave?”

“What?”

“Why did you leave? When you didn’t come back this past summer, I - I thought you were gone for good. That I’d never see you again.”

He says it matter-of-fact, blandly, like he’s trying to stave off any emotion. You don’t really know what to say to that - did you think you’d ever actually see him again? Did you want to?

Honesty, you decide - at this point, it’s the least you owe him, even if you don’t actually know what the truth is.

“I - I thought I was, too. Gone for good, I mean. It wasn’t an actual choice - like, I didn’t think I wanted to stay away forever. But, you were right about one thing - I’ve always wanted to get out of Hawkins, and leave it all behind for something else. Any yeah, whenever I was gone, I missed you, Robin, my family… but then, when - well, when that happened… I got the internship offer, the chance to stay in my apartment, to start my life in the city. So, I decided to stay there. I ran, because… because I’m a coward. And, because I figure you hate my guts, and it’d be easier if you didn’t have to deal with me anymore.”

Because I couldn’t bring myself to face you, because I’d rather miss you than be hurt even more, because I -

“No,” he whispers.

“No what?”

“No, you’re not a coward,” he says firmly. “You’re a lot of things - Smart. Talented. Stubborn. Honest. A terrible singer, and a sugar addict -”

Despite everything, you find yourself laughing at him, because there he is again, the Steve you know.

“- but a coward? No, no way. Maybe you were scared but… that’s not the same thing, not really. I mean, you got out of Hawkins, you’re kicking ass at your dream job before you’re even done with school - that’s not a coward, got that? And… I don’t know how you could ever think that I hate you. Ever.”

He leans back in the booth after that, some tension visibly leaving his body as he gets it off of his chest. You just feel yourself freeze, your ears roaring, eyes burning.

“I - Steve, don’t -”

“I mean it,” he says. “I was hurt, and pretty pissed - maybe I still am, I don’t know. But hating you… that’s not something I could do.”

For not the first time in your life, you feel the sudden urge to protect this boy, to want to give him everything, to make sure nothing ever hurts him again. But you can’t say it, because it’s not quite a feeling you can put into words, unless -

“Promise?” you ask, perhaps a bit pathetically.

“Promise,” he says.

With Steve, it’s easy to believe him, even if it’s only for a moment.

*****

When you’ve both drank your bodyweight in coffee, cleared your plates, and exhausted conversation, you make a move to leave the diner. Steve insists on paying, dropping bills on the table as you both re-emerge into the cold December air. After the warmth of sitting inside, the outdoors bites your skin, flushes your face. You wrap your scarf just a little tighter, shoving your hands in your pockets as you both walk to the parking lot.

The day is already starting to dull, and thanks to the peak winter season, you know that there’s probably only about an hour of daylight left. Neither of you speak for a while, not until you reach Steve’s car. The familiar red BMW makes you want to cry, and you suddenly feel stupid for even feeling so attached to something like a car. But, it’s not a car - it’s an extension of Steve.

“Well, thanks,” you say carefully. “I - I’m glad we got a chance to talk properly. To clear the air, I guess.”

There’s still so much to be said, so many questions you want to ask - but maybe you’d never really know the answers to those.

He just kicks at the gravel, scuffing his Nikes as he contemplates.

“Me too. I mean, uh - do you have anywhere you need to be?”

You shake your head cautiously.

“Um, no? I already dropped my groceries at home, but I’m probably not going to start baking until tomorrow… I think my parents are out tonight, anyways. Wait, why?”

He shrugs, leaning back against the side of the car.

“Well… wanna go for a drive?”

He asks it so simply, as if no time has passed at all. In your high school days, and when you’d visit for college breaks, going for an aimless drive was a frequent occurrence, just an excuse to spend time together. But now, it feels like more than that - a peace offering, an attempt at normalcy.

“Oh! Um - yeah, sure. Why not.”

When you slide into the passenger seat, everything is the same - not that you had really expected anything else. The dusty dashboard, the worn-leather smell, the crackly radio - all the same, like you had never left.

“Where are we going?” you ask casually as Steve backs out of the lot. You pull off your big red scarf, tossing it into the back seat as heat wafts through the vents.

“Dunno. Wherever we feel like, I guess.”

The answer is the old parking lot adjacent to Hawkins High, tucked right between the school and an old Methodist church. It’s basically deserted, the middle of the work and school day making you and Steve one of the only cars here.

After he parks, the boy just sighs, leaning back in his seat and shutting his eyes. You let him just do that for a while, the Christmas music on the radio serving as the only form of company. You stare ahead across the street, at the old high school building. The girl and boy who walked those halls a few years ago don’t exist anymore, not really - instead, there’s the versions of you and Steve sitting here in this car, changed.

“D’you ever miss it?” you ask.

“Hm?”

“High school. I mean, I know a lot of it is bullshit, and I think I’d die if I had to take another algebra test, but… do you ever miss parts of it.”

He thinks for a moment, before sighing and straightening up in his seat.

“Yes and no. I do think some things were a lot more simple back then. I mean, I was an asshole, but I kind of got my shit together towards the end. But, to answer your question - do I wish that my biggest problem was winning the next basketball game, or which girl I was going to take to prom? Yeah. Of course.”

You think about his words for a moment, and echo a similar sentiment - a desire for a life that was simpler, more carefree than you had realized at the time.

“We’re getting old,” you joke.

He laughs heartily, nodding in agreement.

“Oh, yeah - we’ll be in the old folks home, soon enough.”

You both laugh at that, the feeling and sound of it nearly foreign.

“Do you think we’re all going to end up like our parents?” you ask, voice a bit firmer.

He pauses again, staring straight ahead out the front window.

“No,” he concedes. “I hope not.”

The hours pass, the dusk quickly turning into the heavy cloak of night. The pair of you mostly sit in silence after that, occasionally swapping an old memory from childhood, laughing at a story from your high school days, occasionally wondering aloud where some of your former friends and classmates are today.

“I wonder if Tommy H. and Carol are still together,” you wonder aloud.

Steve groans. “Ugh, don’t remind me of them.”

“Why not? You guys were friends -”

“Yeah, that’s the problem. I wasted so much time with them, and people like them, just to be something I’m not. I just wish I had figured that all out sooner.”

“Why?” you ask. “I mean, I know they were kind of dicks, but… there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be popular in high school.”

“Maybe not,” he says. “But, I didn’t realize that what I really wanted - what I needed - was there in front of me, the entire time. And I didn’t need to chase anything.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, because you know what he’s getting at - you think back to that conversation years ago, in the haze of early summer, when he confessed to regretting distancing himself from you in high school. The same night he’d kissed you for the first time, when a lot of things happened for the first time -

You find yourself looking at the boy in the driver’s seat, and you want to reach across and just touch him - run your hands through his hair, brush along his face -

And you don’t realize that you’re leaning closer to him, you hand half-reaching out towards him. You catch it, pulling it back and settling it in your lap. But he’s looking at you with those big brown eyes, warm like honey, and they feel just a bit like home. And he’s leaning towards you, too, closer than he probably should be.

“Steve?” you ask, softer than a whisper.

“Yeah?”

You can feel the heat radiating off of him, contrasting with the cold fogging up the windshield glass, and he’s so close, the familiar smell of him becoming too much -

“I -”

Then, a screeching HONK, loud enough that you jump, your head nearly hitting the ceiling.

“Oh, fuck -”

“Jesus, sorry,” he says, realizing it just came from him, elbow pressed too hard into the steering wheel of his own car.

“It’s fine,” you say. Your eyes flit down to the clock on your dashboard, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Oh, wow - look at the time! I - I know my parents are out, but, it is pretty late -”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve says hurriedly. “Let me just drive you back, I guess.”

“Sounds good!” you say, your voice a little too shrill, too enthusiastic. “Just bring me back to Gateway, actually - we left my car there.”

“Right, of course - I’ve got you.”

You two don’t say much else on the way back, letting Baby It’s Cold Outside and Sleigh Ride fill the silence instead. When Steve brings you back to the diner, you offer each other a curt nod, and you manage to get out a thanks again, I’ll see you at the party.

Before you can close the door, you’re stopped as he says “Hey, wait -”

“Mm?”

“Are we - are we friends again?” he asks. His voice is soft, pleading, his eyes wide and shining through the dimness of the night. You cross your arms and pull your coat tight, thinking carefully about your answer.

You want to say yes, of course, I don’t think we could ever not be friends, Steve. But then you remember what he had said all those months ago - those three words, which somehow crossed a line more than any amount of sex ever could. It’s what stops you, makes you hesitate, even as the boy stares at you expectantly.

“I - I don’t know,” you admit. “I guess I just - I need some time still, to figure stuff out. I don’t know if things can ever go back to the way they were, but -”

“They can’t?” he asks, sounding a bit defeated. You sigh, kicking yourself internally. You’re barrelling down a familiar path, and this whole thing could blow up again in an instant. So you gather yourself, measuring your response.

“I mean - not exactly as they were, no. But… I do miss you, Steve. More than I realized. So… I think it’s a start,” you decide.

He thinks for a moment, then slowly nods.

“Yeah, okay - I can do a start.”

You both just stare at each other for a moment, and you ultimately decide to step back. Before slamming the passenger door closed, you add, “Well - thanks again. I’ll see you on Saturday. At the party, I mean.”

He nods curtly, offering a semi-forced smile.

“Yeah - Saturday.”

When you’re back in your car, and you’re certain he’s driven away, you let your forehead rest on the steering wheel, wishing you could just melt into it and never come out again.

*****

It’s difficult to say whether you actually feel better after your day with Steve. Most of you says yes - apologies were made, the air was cleared, and for brief moments, it had felt as if nothing had happened at all. But, it also brought back memories - far too many memories. Little things, really - Steve’s laugh, they way his eyes glint in the sunlight, the smell of his cologne, the cigarettes he keeps in his glove box; the way he looks at you, the look he gets when you make a joke, the way he sounded saying I love y-

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of your doorbell ringing. You glance at your bedside clock - it’s a little past 10pm, but there’s no way your parents could possibly be home yet…

You swing your legs over the side of your bed, shrugging on a sweater as you pad down the hallway to your front door. The doorbell rings again, and you roll your eyes - probably a last-minute late night delivery from out-of-town, because your mother always forgets something until a few days before Christmas.

When you open the door, the last thing you expect is Steve Harrington to be standing there in the dim porch light. His face is flushed from the cold, the flurries of snow dusting his hair, and he looks just a little too handsome. The sight of him makes you ache again, in a way you can’t quite explain. His eyes widen at the sight of you, as if you’re the last person he thought would be standing in the doorway of your own house.

“Steve! Hi! I, uh - what’re you doing here?” you ask with surprise.

“Oh, um, you know,” he says, raising up a flash of red in his hand. “It’s just - you left this. In my car, I mean.”

You look properly at what he’s holding, and you make out what it is: your scarf. You hadn’t even realized it was missing.

“Oh! Um, thanks,” you say, taking it from his outstretched hand. Your fingers brush his, just for the briefest second. And, despite how cold his skin is, it feels like it lights you on fire at the contact. You pull back quickly, as if he’s actually burned you, and sling the scarf over your arm.

“Don’t mention it,” he replies, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

You both stand there for a moment. Two. The wind howls a bit, and you both shiver.

“Was there anything else?” you ask, hardly daring to raise your voice above a whisper.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean maybe?”

“Maybe?”

“No, I mean, yes - that’s all.”

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

“So, you drove out here in the middle of the night, as the snow is starting, just to bring me my scarf back?” you demand.

He just stares at you, long enough that you wonder if he somehow didn’t hear you. Then, he’s taking a step forward, and whispering, “No.”

You’re not sure who moves first, but he’s crashing into you, arms tugging you into each other as his lips find yours.

You gasp as he kisses you, surprised by how right it feels, how easy it is. Your hand is fisted in his coat, and he brings his hands to both sides of your face as you back up through the doorway, pulling him with you.

He kicks the door closed behind him, hardly breaking the kiss - it’s desperate, and messy, and nothing is gentle about it. He kisses you like he’ll die if he doesn’t, enough to knock the breath from your lungs. And you don’t want him to stop, not ever, not if it means that you’ll never have to lose him again.

You stumble your way through the house, until you’re searching frantically for the door of your bedroom, the pair of you barrelling through it in a whirlwind and slamming it shut.

It’s the first time you’ve stopped kissing since he came through the doorway, and you both just stare at each other, chests heaving, hearts racing.

“I,” he starts. “I swear, I’m just trying to -”

“I know,” you whisper, bringing one hand up to card your fingers through his hair. “I’ve always known, Steve.”

He furrows his brow, confused.

“Always known what?”

But you don’t answer, and just pull him in for another kiss instead. It’s gentler this time, just a bit sweeter, and he’s sighing into your mouth.

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer, the kisses becoming desperate again. With every kiss, you’re trying to say a million things: I’m sorry, I missed you, I need you, I could never hate you, I lo-

But neither of you speak, because it’s just desperate moans and gasps, wandering hands and and tongues, and trying to touch anything, everything.

You don’t know when he shrugged off his coat, but you’re tugging at his sweater, perhaps a bit too desperately. He chuckles and steps back for a moment, pulling it off in one swift movement before bringing his hands to your head again, pulling your lips to his. It’s like you’re both addicted, unable to go more than a moment without touching each other. The distance and times is washing away, with every kiss, every brush of skin, every piece of clothing shed.

He’s pulled your own sweater off of you, making a point to kiss the exposed skin of your shoulder and down the valley of your breasts, and you moan.

“Fuck, baby -” you gasp. “I - I”

“What do you need?” he asks, voice wild and desperate. “Tell me, anything you want, baby.”

“Just touch me, dammit,” you breathe, earning a laugh from him.

“I thought you’d never say that,” he growls, gently pushing you so you’re walking backwards. You let yourself fall as soon at the back of your knees hit the bed, and he’s hastily fumbling with the button of your pants.

In any other situation, you’d want him to take his time, to take it slowly, sweetly. But you don’t have the patience for that, not right now. SO you help him, popping the button and shimmying your pants down your legs, reaching around and unhooking your bra for good measure. As the straps slide down your arms and it falls off of you, he groans.

“Fuck - you’re so fuckin’ perfect, you’ve no idea -”

Your heart flutters at the praise, but you just pull him close to you, crashing his lips into yours again.

“Steve - please -”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he concedes, guiding you backwards. “Lay back, baby.”

You oblige, breath hitching in your throat as his lips wander along your throat, your breasts, swirling his tongue around your nipple. You gasp and arch your back, and the sounds you’re making only push him further, his lips traveling down, down, down -

Then he’s pulling your panties down your legs and kissing you everywhere - your ankle, the inside of your knee, your thigh, and then -

When he first licks a stripe along your slit, you let out a strangled cry, practically flying off the bed as you arch up. He practically growls, pressing his lips to his clit as he does, and you’re pretty sure you’re whimpering.

“Oh, fuck - Steve, that’s it - right there. I - ah! - add your finger there, yes -”

He’s working on you like it’s his job, lapping at you like a starving man. His tongue circles slowly around your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you hear the sound of your slick, your heaving breaths and pleas filling the room. You grip the sheets, bringing your heels to his bare back to press him closer into you.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he breathes into your cunt. “It’s so hot, baby - you taste so good -”

He’s speaking nonsense, half muffled as he licks at you, but the praise is enough for you.

You can’t even warn him, your orgasm hitting you embarrassingly fast. You come hard, screaming his name as you throw your head back and practically buck into his mouth. He continues licking at you softly, gently working you down from your high.

“That’s it, there you go - God, I love how you sound when you come,” he whispers, his breath fanning over your core. When it becomes too much, you gently tap his head, signaling him to come up for air. He pulls himself up slowly, hovering over you with a big grin on his face.

“Hi,” you breathe.

“Hi.”

His chin and lips are coated in your slick, but you don’t care. You pull him down into another kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“You doing okay?” he asks as he pulls back, taking a moment to brush some hair from your face. You nod, unsure if you’re able to speak quite yet. So instead, you reach downwards, fumbling with his belt and button, biting your lip as you fumble in the dark between you two.

“Whoa, okay, hang on,” he says, pulling back to stand up for a moment. He rids himself of his pants quickly, his boxers the only remaining clothing between you two. Then he’s hovering over you again, smiling as you start kissing him. You reach down and start palming at his clothed bulge, straining against the confines of his underwear.

He groans into your neck, and shakily places his hand over yours and pulls it back.

“Wait, wait, baby - as much as I want you to touch me… I think this is gonna be over way too fast if I let you do that.”

You feel pride surge in your chest, the idea that you can have that kind of effect on this beautiful boy above you. So instead, you say nothing, and move to sit up. You wordlessly guide him, coaxing him to lay back against the mattress so you can straddle him.

He’s looking at you like you might not be real, and in that moment, you’re not sure if he is, either. So instead, you help him pull off his boxers, letting his hard cock spring free. It looks nearly painful, and you want nothing more than to make him feel good, to give him anything he wants.

So, without much ceremony, you take his cock in your hand. He hisses at your touch, and as you raise yourself over him, you meet his eyes one more time - are you sure?

He just nods, and you lower yourself onto him, enveloping him inch-by-inch. You both moan at the feeling, moving yourself slowly as he stretches your walls. He screws his eyes shut and throws his head back, groaning at the feeling of you around him. After what feels like a painstakingly long time, he bottoms out, filling you so completely that you think you might cry.

You sit there for a moment, both getting used to the feeling - it had been a while for you, and if you had to guess, it had been for him as well.

“Can I move?” you ask after a moment. He just nods, eyes finally flying open to focus on you.

You being rocking back and forth, slowly, and he looks as if he’s died and gone to heaven. Soon enough, though, you begin to pick up the pace, bouncing on his cock as he rocks into you. He shifts until he’s nearly sitting up, gathering you close to his chest and you continue to rock in his lap. He snakes his hand down to where you meet, rubbing fast, messy circles on your clit. The sounds filling the room are just the slapping of skin, heaving breaths, and a slew of dirty words falling from both of you, incoherent and out of control.

“Oh, fuck - baby, you feel so good - so fuckin’ warm and tight, just for me -”

“I - oh, God - you’re amazing. Your cock is so big, filling me perfectly -”

“So beautiful, riding me like this - I can’t believe you came so quick before, babe - can you do it again?” he whispers, mouthing at the skin behind your ear. You just nod, burying your face into the warm skin of his shoulder, meeting his thrusts as he fucks up into you.

Then he angels himself perfectly, hitting that spot inside of you, and you start to cry out.

“I’m close, oh god, Steve - right there, harder, please, fuck me harder -”

You feel his cock twitch inside you, and feeling just a little bit evil, you squeeze around him. He sounds as if you’ve killed him, pressing his teeth into your shoulder.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna -”

“Come for me, Steve,” you whisper. “Come when I do.”

He mouths at your neck, and as you feel the familiar hook pulling in your abdomen, it hits you - what both of you need, right now, in this moment. You slow your movements slightly, pulling back to look him in the eye.

“Steve?” you breathe.

“Mm?”

You take his face in your hands, kissing him sweetly, completely in contrast with the way he was roughly fucking up into you. You’re both growing more sloppy, more desperate, chasing your respective highs.

“I - I love you,” you whisper.

That’s enough for both of you. You snap, throwing your head back and screaming as you squeeze and convulse around him. You’re seeing stars, the warmth spreading through you and your orgasm hits your like a train.

Steve follows a second behind, cock twitching and spilling into you as he cries out your name like a prayer, mumbling sweet nothings into your skin as you slow your rhythm, riding out your orgasms together. His hips stutter, then still, only the sounds of your rapid breathing and racing hearts to accompany you.

He still has his arms wrapped around you, chests flush to each other. Steve starts pressing gentle, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder, his hand slowly rubbing your back. Neither of you say anything, not for a while - the wind howls outside, the snow falling a bit more now.

Eventually, he starts to soften in you, and you pull yourself off, clambering to the other side of the bed. He wordlessly reaches for the unmade comforter and pulls it over you both, noting the goosebumps forming on your skin.

You both just lay there, side-by-side, staring at the ceiling as you wait for your breathing to return to normal. It’s him who finally breaks the silence, because it always is.

“That was -”

“-amazing,” you finish breathlessly, turning your head on the pillow towards him. It’s a tiny bed, and you’re practically nose-to-nose. He’s smiling softly, still blissed-out from what happened only moments ago.

“So… what you said,” he says quietly. “Did you mean it? Like, really mean it?”

And he looks terrified, like your answer might break him, and it makes you want to cry. You want to crack open your chest and draw him inside, keeping him safe right next to your heart. You reach across and gently brush your fingers along his face, ghosting over his cheek and jaw.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Of course I did. I think I have for a long time, Steve.”

His face crumbles, and he sighs with relief, turning up to kiss your palm.

“Did you?” you ask, anxiety creeping into your chest. You’re not even sure if he remembers when he said it last year. He looks confused, but only for a moment.

“Wait - did I - I did, didn’t I?” he says, shaking his head incredulously.

“When I said that, I - it was in the moment, and I almost swore I didn’t - I’ve played that moment, that entire night, in my head almost every day. And - and never knew for sure if I actually said what I felt.”

You feel your heart flutter, your stomach doing somersaults.

“So - you meant it?” you ask cautiously.

He smiles again, big and wide, and gently presses his lips to yours.

“Yes,” he breathes. “I’ve loved you as long as I’ve known you. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

“Since we were five?” you ask, feeling like the wind has been knocked from your lungs. He just nods. You nuzzle your nose into his, and softly whisper, “Well, I love you too, Steve Harrington.”

LATER, WINTER 1989

It’s loud, warm with bodies, and hazy from smoke - you make you way through the crowd, drink in-hand. You glance at the clock - it’s 11:57, where is he -

“Hey you!” a voice shouts. You laugh as RObin slings her arm around you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

“Hey!” you laugh, pulling her close into a side hug. “Where’ve you been?”

“Well, I was talking to Nancy, but there’s only so much canoodling with Jonathan that I can handle.”

You chuckle, glancing over at where the couple stands in the corner, practically devouring each other.

“Well, where’s Vickie?” you ask, searching over the crowded living room.

“She went to get more champagne, but I don’t - oh! Look, they found each other!”

You follow her gaze, and settle on Robin’s redheaded girlfriend - talking to Steve. You relax at the sight of him, even though he had been by your side only a few minutes ago. He smiles when you spots you, holding out an arm to wrap around you as you sidle up to him.

“Hi,” he says softly, quietly enough that you hardly hear him over the music.

“Hey, you,” you reply, earning a kiss on the crown of your head.

“Is it almost time?” you ask. Robin glances at her watch, and practically jumps.

“Oh, gosh, yeah! Okay, everyone!” she shouts, scrambling to stand on a chair. Most of the room directs their attention to her, raising their glasses and letting out a few whoops and cheers.

“Alright people, grab someone pretty, make a few resolutions - and say goodbye to the 80s!”

Everyone cheers, and Robin looks down at her wrist again.

“Okay! Ten! Nine -”

Steve pulls you close by your waist, gazing down at you like you’re his whole world. Though, you know that there’s a good chance it’s true. He brushes your hair to the side, and whispers, “Ready for 1990?”

You know what promises the new year will bring - you, starting your full-time job in New York, in the apartment that you and Steve are getting together, with the promise of always coming back to Hawkins for the holidays. A life, that you’re building together, after so many years of dancing around it. It makes sense that you’ve ended up here, ringing in a new decade after being a part of each other’s lives for nearly as long as you’ve known.

“Five! Four! Three -”

You grin, bringing your hand to the nape of his neck.

“As long as it’s you and me, Harrington.”

“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Robin screams, followed by a series of applause and cheers.

Steve meets you halfway, and kisses you like he always does, enough that you melt into him like you’ll die if you aren’t attached to him. There’s no need to run anymore. Because, as long as you’re with Steve, you’re home.

Author’s note: well, that’s the end of TTDS. I’m sorry for the wait, but I hope it was worth it! I’m diving into my new Steve series next, and working through my inbox for some blurb requests. But, if you’d like to request prompts/blurbs based on this story, I’d be happy to do that - I think it’s be fun to see other scenes from throughout or after the events of this story. I appreciate every like, reblog, comment, and message - I read every single one. Let me know what you think of the story! Merry Christmas to all who celebrate, and I’ll see y’all in the new year!

Taglist: @cityofidek @decadentwastelandtrash @fallingwithoutcaution @selfdeprecatingnerd @scream-still-screaming @le-who-zer-her @freezaz123 @andrewgarfieldsupremecy @shireentapestry @divinelovers @thatstoomuchman @buckleysbitch @evansflowers @untoldshortsofthefandoms @godcreatoreli @hotelfohn @thesillynonsense @itsfloorcry @dullsocietyy @draynmelol @the-winter-spider @suniloli @livid-euphoria @iknowrocknroll @tsundere-exe @palmtreesx3 @boxofsmittens @bradleysgirl @etherealforever234 @jxackles

#ttds #ttds fic #Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington fluff #Steve Harrington angst #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington/fem!reader #steve harrington/you #Steve Harrington/reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington series #stranger things fanfic

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looby1302 · 8 months

Text

Part six of guilty conscience.

I hope you all enjoy, Thank you for all the love.

Smut warning 🚨🚨

As the morning came around. Jackie awoke happy and excited for the day. she showered, got dressed, and entered the kitchen in search of some breakfast. Cole was already sat on the kitchen island with Danny chatting about sports and tucking into some pancakes with maple syrup. it looked delicious. before Jackie could announce herself, her stomach made a loud grumble.

“ are you hungry New York?” Cole said With a throaty giggle. Danny smiled, lifting up the plate of pancakes, waiting for Jackie to help herself. She took two pancakes. placed them on a plate and started to tuck in. “ I Spoke to uncle Richard, he wont be back until tomorrow now, something about a deal going south… so what’s the plan today guys?“ Jackie said after finishing her pancakes. “ well, I’ve got school which I am loving by the way!”. Danny said enthusiastically.

Coles eyes met with Jackies “ I guess I’m exploring New York”. He said waiting for a response. “ unfortunately, I have my internship, but maybe I could meet up with you after and I can show you all the beauty spots”. She said smiling. “ I would love that, don’t think you’re going to convert me to a city boy though” Cole said. “ yeah well I guess we will see”.

As everybody left the apartment. Danny went to school and was meeting up with his newfound friends afterwards. Jackie went to her internship, and Cole wondered around the city waiting for her to finish. Later on that day, Jackie text Cole that she was finished and she would meet him outside a café that her and her family loved to visit for their famous croissants. Of course he had to google map it.

“ Hey, Colorado having fun in my city?”. She said Walking up to him. “ it’s just so busy, I kind of miss the quiet”. He said opening the cafe door for her. “ I wouldn’t call your house quiet“. She said sarcastically. they both chuckled. they ordered the famous croissants. drank coffee and talked,. She spoke about her family, key moments that she remembered. He spoke about football. the games and the glory.

Jackie took Cole, to her favourite spots in the city. They walked past her old house. she showed him all the places that she loved and missed so much. He took everything in. just happy that she is now comfortable enough to share these personal details with him. It was getting late The Streets became dark, and all the street lamps started to turn on.

They got back to Richard’s apartment. Both glowing with happiness. they sit on the couch finally discussing what to do. “ I don’t wanna hurt Alex, but I don’t think I can stay away from you”. She said, peering into those beautiful, green eyes. “ We don’t have to tell Alex straight away, I think time will heal it. What if we keep it on the down low, because there is no way I can stay away from you too. You have no idea how much I want you”. Cole said.

“ yeah I think it’s best if we just keep it quiet for now. Are you sure you can do that?, I don’t really think subtlety is your strong point”. She said placing her hand on top of his. “ I guess we will see, I can’t believe that I have to go on a plane again tomorrow, my mom would kill me if she knew where I was right now”.

“ I know, I wish you didn’t have to leave. But I mean it’s just for a few weeks. then I’ll be back”. Jackie said. “ I know I wish I could stay, a few weeks may as well be a lifetime”. Cole Leaned In pressing his lips against hers. she kissed him back. Cole started to deepen the kiss. she retaliated. Hands Started to Roam over each other. His hands curved Around the bottom of her back. her hands combing through his hair roughly.

Jackie pulled back abruptly “ Cole I want you”. She whispered. his face dropped, this was the last thing he was expecting. he didn’t know about her previous experience, but he had a hunch that she was inexperienced in that department. He looked dead into her eyes “ are you sure? I don’t wanna rush you. Don’t feel like you have to”. He said softly. “ I’m sure, I know I don’t have to, I want to, unless you don’t”. She said almost pulling back. “ no I do, of course I do, I just don’t want you to regret it“. He said closing the gap, double checking with her.

Cole lifted Jackie up as her legs straddled his Waist. Still kissing, only stopping to breathe. he headed for her bedroom. As the bedroom door opened he placed her gently on the bed. Hovering over her. kissing her lips, her neck and making his way down. A groan escaped from her lips. She sat up. Eyes locked on his. slowly pulling off her bright blue sweater and white button up T-shirt only leaving her in a purple lacy bra.

He gulped in response, unable to speak. Shellshocked. she was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen. before he could even realise that he had zoned out completely. her hands were at the bottom of his T-shirt. Pulling it upwards, he obliges. All their clothes End up In a pile next to the bed. just leaving them in their underwear. Cole doesn’t want to hurt her. so he reassures her with his kisses and touches. He even slips in a few little compliments. “ are you sure?“. Jackie nods in response.

Sorry to cut it off here! But I’ve Gotta keep you coming back for more…. Please let me know if you enjoy this chapter and want more! There is a hell of alot more to come! ❤️ xx

#cole walter #cole and jackie #jackie howard #my life with the walter boys #cole x jackie #mlwtwb #noah lalonde #soundcloud

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memphisnovels · 1 year

Text

Evermore

Chapter 7. If we survived the Great war

Masterlist

Previous chapter

Hello hello! Chapter 7 friends

Following this chapter Evermore is going to be Pietro central, so I hope you all enjoy, so much flirting and arguing to come x

pairing: Pietro Maximoff x OFC

warnings: BFF Anna, angst, injuries, PTSD, proof Tony Stark has a heart

My vision was foggy when my eyes opened once more. The slow rhythm of a monitor beeping filled my ears as I glanced around the room, it wasn’t a hospital, but it definitely wasn’t the Avengers Tower either. My attention was piqued by the sound of a door opening and closing.

“Welcome back,” Anna murmured, a soft smile coming to sit on her face. “You gave us all quite the scare.” I shifted in the bed, attempting to sit up. “Just take it slow, Nads, you’re on a lot of pain meds and you don’t want to pop a stitch.”

I thanked her for the cup of water she handed me. “Where are we?��

“The new Avengers compound. You passed out on the lifeboat; the medics took care of you on board, but you’ve been out since then. Helen Cho worked her magic on you when you got back here.” The moment the water hit my lips it became apparent just how thirsty I was, it was as if I’d been walking through the Sahara for days, my throat dry and torn. “You know a text would have been nice. Didn’t need to be long, just a simple ‘hey Anna heading off to save the world talk to you later’.” I smiled into the cup at her taunting tone. “I mean here I am kicking back in Istanbul, and I get a call from Natasha saying you’re bleeding out in bloody Sokovia.”

My body felt light, as though it were floating. I guessed it was the medication. “Well, I did not want to disturb you, miss superspy.” She rolled her eyes, flipping me her middle finger as she dropped into the seat beside the bed. “I’m sorry, next time a robot man is intent on global destruction I’ll send you an email.”

“Please do!” I snorted at her, resting my head back against the crisp white pillows. “I missed you, smartass. The fiercely independent thing is fine, all I ask is the odd update so I know you’re still breathing, really any sign of life would be much appreciated.”

“Ugh, you people with all your emotions.” I teased, keeping my eyes closed. She huffed in feigned annoyance at my words. “I will try to keep you updated.” I popped a single eye open to watch her roll her eyes and smile at me gently. “How is your peculiar little rat?”

She shook her head at me, a scowl taking over her expression. “By that, I assume you mean my Pomeranian?” I hummed in response prompting her to sigh exasperatedly before telling me how the little creature was faring. “You can pretend to disdain George all you want but I’ve seen you giving him treats and spoiling him with pets.”

“Poor little Georgie, I feel bad for the beast, he is so tiny. Like a little doll, all of the other dogs will bully him.”

We continued like this for a while, catching up on life, at least as much as we could with her MI6 confidentialities and my innate displeasure in sharing my secrets. It was nice, to hear Anna’s voice, to have her here. She was the first person whom I’d found comfort in the presence of. There was safety with her, that is what our friendship was built on. Although, friendship did seem an inadequate word for our kinship. Family was what we had called it over the years, though even now that still seemed such a foreign concept it made my skin crawl each time, I lingered on the thought too long.

“You know you really did give us a scare, Nads.” I nodded at her, poking at the chocolate pudding that had been given to me. The first time I had one of these I was 21 and it was at the hospital in New York whilst I sat at Anna’s bedside after she’d had a particularly tough assignment. At the time I had been disgusted by the thought of this strange brown, custardy substance, even when I tried it, I found myself turned off by the thought of what ingredients went into making the uniquely American delicacy. However, they’d grown on me over the years. “Each of the Avengers have been in to see you that many times it’s becoming a little silly. Thor left you those before heading home.” She nodded toward an egregiously large bouquet of flowers. I bit back a smile at the thought of him purchasing that. What a very odd person. God. Whatever. “Nat got you something as well, she said she left it in your room…” The way Anna spoke then immediately made me suspicious. There was something she wanted to say, something on the tip of her tongue that she was biting back.

I raised an eyebrow at her but still she remained silent, swallowing down what might have been a laugh. “For God’s sake, just spit it out.”

“It’s nothing… I was just saying how you worried us… all of us.” I narrowed my eyes at her. She was trying extremely hard not to laugh now, I could tell. “That Maximoff boy, particularly.” She could no longer stop herself as a little giggle slipped out.

A sigh of utter exasperation came from me as she continued to laugh. “I am not sure what is so funny, Anna. What do I care of that infuriating prick?”

She grinned at me. “He’s been here more than anyone else. Honestly, I wasn’t sure he’d leave your side until I told him to piss off and take a shower.” I rolled my eyes at her. “Seriously he wouldn’t stop pacing around the room, I thought he was gonna wear a hole through the floor.”

I could not believe this woman. “Good for him.”

“He’s cute.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” I muttered shoving a heaping spoonful of pudding into my mouth and attempting a nonchalant shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at me, but I simply avoided her gaze. “Are you sure?” I did not like her tone.

“He is a terrorist.”

“No one’s perfect.” I gaped at her implication, her gaze remained set on me, unwavering. It was not okay with me that she felt she could see through me so easily. “Plus, I wouldn’t really call him a terrorist, an idiot? Maybe, but he joined the Avengers in the end so…” She shrugged, stealing a spoonful of pudding from me.

“You are beginning to piss me off now.”

She only laughed again, taking another spoonful of the chocolatey goodness. “Why because I’m right and you’re saying the exact same thing in your head?”

I opened my mouth to disagree but before I could get the words out her phone began ringing, cutting me off. She pulled up a bag from beside her feet, laying it on the end of the bed. “I’m so sorry, I have to get this. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.” I nodded, gesturing for her to go.

Unfortunately, I was not left alone for very long as Dr. Cho came in to check on me. “I am feeling much better now, can I go?”

She breathed a laugh, checking over the machine and taking a quick look under the bandage at my hip. “You’ll be fine to leave whenever you’re ready, Nadia. The wound looks far better already.”

“Great. I do not want any of the special medicine either, just give me the basics, nothing that affects my consciousness.”

“I would recommend taking something stronger for the pain, your body can heal without the medication, but you’d be putting yourself through so much unnecessary pain. You sustained a lot of damage, there’s no shame in taking something a little stronger.”

I pulled the blankets off of my legs, swinging them over the side of the bed. Within the bag, Anna had left was a clean set of clothes for me to change into. “I’ve had worse. I’ll be fine. Thank you, Dr Cho.”

She shook her head and sighed quietly, handing me two little bottles. “It’s your choice, I’m giving you something stronger as well just in case.” I took the bottles and tossed them into the bag, ignoring her look of frustration. “All right, well keep an eye on the wound and come back in a couple of days so I can check the healing progress.”

When I was alone again, I slipped into the small bathroom attached to the med bay, pulled off the hospital gown, and stepped into the shower. Most of the blood had been wiped from me though there was still quite a lot, alongside all sorts of dirt and debris which clung to me. The water ran black and red as it swirled down the drain, taking with it the stress and agonies of my time in Sokovia. A deep ache set into my muscles as the medication began to wear off, bringing me to a crisper consciousness where pain lay in wait.

I left the medical wing, swallowing down the agony that seared in my body as I wandered aimlessly down the unfamiliar hallway. The compound was quite fancy, not that it surprised me, Stark did have a flare for that kind of thing. Glass panes surrounded me, glossy floors which the light bounced off of.

“Hey, kid!” I glanced over my shoulder to see the man himself approaching me. “Glad to see you’re back on your feet, come on I’ll show you your new room.” He walked beside me, keeping pace with my pained, slightly slower stride. “What do you think of the new place? Nice huh? I thought the windows made it a little reminiscent of the tower, plus you know light and all that good stuff.” The end of his sentence came swiftly, almost as if he were glossing over the words as he spoke to them, he glanced at me so briefly it was almost unnoticeable.

“Yes, it’s… it’s nice, different to the tower, but nice.”

He nodded quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, definitely. Less light pollution out here though.” I remained silent as he showed me to my new room. It was spacious and the walls were white. Not sterile, hospital-white, rather a softer, warmer white that made it feel open. A large, plush bed sat in the middle of a wall, surrounded by side tables, and in the corner sat an empty bookshelf and a desk but none of these things were what held my attention. There was a whole wall lined with beautiful glass windows, the sun trickling through to bathe the furniture in warmth. I stepped toward them, holding a hand out to let the rays of sun engulf my flesh. “It’s a lot of light I know, but I had controls installed to tint the windows as much or as little as you want. All with the click of this remote.” He held up a little white controller. “They can go completely blackout, or you can just dim it, they’re also one-sided so you can see out, but no one can see in.” He spoke the way he always did, with that cool disposition that made him seem untouchable. He spoke as if it were nothing, when to me, this meant more than he’d ever know.

A picture frame sitting on the bedside table caught my attention, it was simple but nice, inside lay a photograph of Natasha and me. I picked it up to examine it closer, it was the night Ultron had attacked us in the Avenger’s tower when Nat had insisted we take a picture together before the party. Stuck to the top corner of the frame was a pink Post-it note.

What could be more you than your own face?

As I gazed into the glass encasing the image, I was able to see my own reflection staring back at me. I was smiling and my eyes were watery. Quickly placing the picture back down on the nightstand I looked at the roof, pretending to be stretching my neck as I took a deep breath. “You asked me what she showed me.” I finally spoke after a few long moments.

He asked what I meant.

“You asked me what the witch showed me, in the shipyard.” I turned to face him then.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I don’t, and I’m not going to either. Not now.” He raised an eyebrow at me. I exhaled deeply before continuing. “The place where I was raised… it was dark, and it was cold all the time and there was never music. For most of my life, that was what I knew, cold, dark, silence.” I could feel his gaze on me, but I did not meet it. “I don’t mind the light pollution in New York because it means that it is always light. I like the sound of the traffic because when I wake up during the night, there is sound. I asked you for a room with windows so that I always know, I am not in that place.” I shook my head. “Not anymore.”

There was silence again then. We stood facing each other but not meeting each other’s gaze, sitting in a silence that was surprisingly comfortable. He nodded. “Okay.” It was a word atop an exhale. A word that was simple, but in that moment, it had weight. It was an acknowledgement and it meant something to me. He turned to the door, placed the little remote on the desk, and took a step forward.

“Tony.” Both of us froze at the sound of my voice. In all the years that I’d known this man, I had never once called him by his first name. “You are a mad scientist, and sometimes a bit of a prick.” He smiled sheepishly, furrowing his eyebrows slightly at my words. “But you are also a good man, a man who saved the world. Thank you.” I looked toward the beams of sunlight streaming through my windows.

“I’ll see you around, Nads.” He spoke, turning to leave. Before he stepped out of the room, I saw the way his lips curved upward, it brought a soft smile to my own face.

…

Anna did come back, just as she said she would. She had to board a flight back to England to report to MI6 before leaving again for her next assignment. It was a busy life, one that we had in common. “You know sometimes I think maybe I should’ve chosen MI6 over S.H.I.E.L.D. Then I would not have to contend with jaded AI and near doomsday events on a weekday.”

She laughed. “It would be nice to get to see you more often.” She wrapped me in her warm embrace and for a moment I tensed, but then it was Anna, and it was okay. She exhaled softly, shaking her head as she pulled away with a small, earnest smile. “No... Superhero suits you better.”

I narrowed my eyebrows at her, an amused smile spreading across my lips. “Look after yourself.”

“No, you look after yourself.” She spoke, her tone shifting to a scolding one, like an older sister. “I mean it.” She added, pointing at me.

When she was gone, and it was quiet I slipped into the large bed facing the windows. For a while, I just watched the intricate patterns drawn on the marble floors by the sun trickling in. “J.A.R.V.I.S… are you there?” I spoke into the room, feeling a little silly for the bubble of hope in my chest. For a moment there was silence, and I was almost embarrassed, of course, he was not there, J.A.R.V.I.S was installed into the red man they called Vision.

“Hello, Nadia. My name is F.R.I.D.A.Y, Mr. Stark has installed me in the Avengers compound now that J.A.R.V.I.S has left.” It was a woman’s voice, she was Irish. “Perhaps I can help?”

I swallowed heavily. “It is very quiet in here...” My words trailed off, I did not know what to say and it felt stupid and weak now.

“The previous Avengers tower was soundproof also so J.A.R.V.I.S emitted quiet cityscape sounds into your room. Would you like me to do this as well?” Her voice was gentle and non-judgmental.

“Yes. Yes, please.”

The moment I’d finished my sentence the low hum of traffic, wind, and life streamed into the room. “Of course, is there anything else I can help with?”

I lowered myself, resting my head back on the plush pillows and snuggling into the duvet. “No thank you… F.R.I.D.A.Y.” She told me I was welcome and then she was gone. I dimmed the windows slightly, just enough that the sun wasn’t blaring but I could still see out. As soon as I was comfortable, I rolled onto my side.

I couldn’t sleep on my back, not anymore. It was odd to feel incapable of such a mundane thing. In support group, they call things like that a trigger. I’d never found a better term for that feeling that occurs in the dead of night when the room is still, and I am on my back with my eyes closed. It’s the feeling of my legs in stirrups, needles injecting me with a drug that made me feel as though I were underwater. My muscles turned to mush, and my body was stolen from me. Parts that were supposed to be mine. Proof that nothing belonged to me in the Red Room.

I tended to favor side sleeping.

…

When my eyes opened, I was bathed in darkness. I could feel sweat pricking at the back of my neck and my heart was thumping quickly in my chest. Taking a long, deep breath I closed my eyes and focused. The hushed sound of traffic enveloping me, my heart slowed slightly, and I reopened my eyes, snatching the remote and turning the dimmer off on the windows to reveal the silver glow of moonlight. After a while, the air began flowing smoothly into my lungs and my heart returned to its normal rhythm, the sweat dried and I was okay.

I took my time walking to the kitchen, creating a mental map of the compound as I went. It did not take me long to realize that the red was gone, no longer sitting in the corner of my vision, taunting me. I remained vigilant nonetheless, awaiting it’s return so it could not catch me by surprise. Before I turned the corner into the room, I was presuming was the kitchen based on the sound of voices and the sizzling of food in a pan, I leaned against the wall, cradling my wounded side and taking a deep breath. It hurt, a lot. I was only taking the weak painkillers Dr. Cho had given me, none of the stronger medicines, and I was paying the price. My body ached all over and my stomach had begun to cramp from the lack of sustenance. After another moment of rest, I pushed off the wall and made my way into the kitchen. There was a large island bench lined on one side by stools and a dining table across from it. Natasha sat at the island talking to Cap, who was stirring something in a pot at the stove. A glance at the table revealed Vision and the Maximoff twins talking amongst themselves.

“Nads, you’re awake.” Nat beamed when she spotted me causing all eyes in the room to land on me. I raised an eyebrow at her, glancing at Steve when he turned to face me, a novelty apron with the words ‘kiss the chef’ inscribed across the front, wrapped around his body.

“I was wondering if you’d be joining us tonight.” He spoke up offering me a warm smile. “You must be hungry, I’m made some soup, I’m not much of a cook but it smells decent so...”

I ignored the gaze of the enhanced twins, particularly the remorseful look that Wanda gave me and the concerned one her brother supplied. “Nice apron,” I murmured, walking to sit at the end of the dining table as far from Wanda and Pietro as possible. A snort came from Nat and an exasperated sigh from Cap at my comment.

“It was the only one that was here, and I didn’t want to spill on myself.” He mumbled, his tone suggesting that I wasn’t the first to comment on his choice of cooking attire. A moment after I’d sat down there was a bowl of steaming soup placed before me by Steve, followed by a glass of ice water from Natasha beside two little white pills which I assumed were painkillers. I raised an incredulous eyebrow at the two of them as they sat on either side of the table with their own meals.

“What’s with the table service?” The two of them shrugged as if they weren’t sure what I’d meant. I sipped the water before scooting forward to begin eating when I realized I didn’t have a spoon, bracing my hands on the arms of the chair to push myself up. Yet, before my chair was even far enough from the table for me to stand a streak of blue and silver whizzed by. A spoon sitting in front of me before my mind even had time to comprehend what was happening. Glancing down the table to see Pietro seated, casually, as if he’d never left. My eyes narrowed at him from my seat before I glanced back to Nat and Steve who were barely touching their food as they pretended not to be focused on me. I picked up the spoon hesitantly. “Is this because I almost died?” I taunted, causing Natasha to shoot me a sharp glare.

“That’s not funny, Nadia.”

I put my hands up in surrender before beginning to eat. “Geez, tough crowd.” It was almost unbearable to know that I was being surveyed so heavily by the other people in the room, though there was something about it that prompted a warm feeling in my chest, not that I’d ever admit it. “This soup is actually very good; have you been taking cooking classes in your spare time?” I broke the silence, glancing at Steve.

“Actually, I found the recipe on the line.”

“The line?”

Nat bit back a grin, glancing at me. “The web.”

I gasped at that. “You used the internet, all by yourself.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, very funny. Yes, I used the internet. I don’t particularly like it, but I must admit it was actually nice, this woman spoke about how the recipe was passed down from her great-grandmother.” Natasha and I shared a look at his admission, evidently, he had chosen to read the entire biography section of the recipe before making this soup.

The smile that sat across my face was hard to shake, try as I might. “Thank you for the food,” I spoke quietly as I continued eating. The overzealous service caretaking continued when I’d finished eating, my dish was cleared before I’d had the chance and my water was refilled. “Honestly, it was 1 bullet, for God’s sake. I am perfectly capable of walking to the bench.”

“Well, you don’t need to, I’m already doing it for you,” Natasha spoke, giving me a pointed look as she stacked the dishwasher. I rolled my head back to hang over the back of my seat in exasperation.

“You’re not going to take the medicine?” A voice piped up causing a wave of irritation to pass over me.

I lifted my head slowly, a lethal look in my eyes as they met his clear blue ones. “Whatever for? I am not in pain.”

“You took a bullet and shrapnel to the side but you’re not in any pain? Of course, this does not sound like you are trying to prove anything at all.”

A hush fell over the room at his response. When I spoke again my tone was glacial. “I thank you for your concern, but it takes a little more than 1 bullet and some itty-bitty pieces of metal to kill me.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Perhaps next time the two of you decide to team up with a deranged metal man to kill the Avengers you will keep this in mind.” It was facetious and it was mean, but the words seemed to come from me before I had the chance to stop them.

Wanda swallowed heavily, her sullen gaze falling on the table then. My words silenced Pietro but did not have the intended effect. I’d anticipated anger from him, some nasty words in return but instead all I saw across his face was remorse; it sickened me.

After dinner, Natasha had insisted on showing me around the rest of the compound as I’d been too tired earlier to have a full tour. “That was a little harsh earlier, Nads.”

I asked her what she meant, though I heard my previous words echo in my mind the moment she’d spoken.

“I’m not going to stand here and defend the twins; they made a stupid choice and a lot of people ended up getting hurt.” I was silent as she spoke. “You know what? You’re right, Nadia. It is their fault.”

My eyes widened as I looked over at her, stopping abruptly in my track. “Wh-what? That is not what I said.”

“They killed those people, what happened in Sokovia is their fault.”

I shook my head, unable to believe her words. She did not believe that. “Natasha, what are you talking about?”

“I’m with you, Nads, they should feel terrible, all that blood is on their hands.”

“No, it isn’t!” The way my voice sounded surprized me; I’d never spoken to Nat like that. “It’s not their fault, they were just doing what they thought was right, they were trying to protect those people.” My chest rose and fell rapidly.

A slow, knowing smile spread across Natasha’s lips. The moment it appeared I realized what she was doing, recognized it. A scowl took over my face immediately. “Well, that was surprisingly easy.” I rolled my eyes at her, crossing my arms over my chest. “I honestly wasn’t sure if I’d break you, it’s never been that easy before, you must really care about them.”

I huffed exasperatedly, turning sharply on my heel, and walking away from the smug redhead. “Fuck off, honestly.”

Thank you so much for reading xx

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jadetheblueartist · 3 months

Note

I have lil questions about spiders web widens!

Does Frida mainly live in the Hotel or the Battle Nexus (I would assume the battle nexus would have lodging)? And if she lives down in the hidden city would Frida be allowed to sneak up to the surface? Or does Big mama keep her close at all times?

Also is it known to the public that Frida is Big Mama’s daughter?

Alsoooooo is there any lil fun fact(s) you’d like to share about Camille?

Hi, Moo! Thanks for the questions ^^ this was a really well timed ask bc I was thinking about all of these today so yay

This was very long so imma put a cut hahaha

1. So. What I’ve been thinking so far is that Frida (and Big Mama) would live in the hotel. I believe that one room with the lava lamp to be hers, as I’ve probably mentioned before but let’s just pretend I didn’t. But today I was watching “Battle Nexus: New York” and at the end, after the shredder attack, the entire hotel crumbles to the ground. I did not notice this before so unless it’s in the last two episodes that I plan on watching tomorrow, I guess they won’t be living there during SWW? I think they would be almost done rebuilding but would be in an alternate place probably. Mama’s web of resources is quite expansive so they probably will have some place else I’ll figure out the details to later.

When she was an active participant in the Nexus, Frida would have lived there. This was probably several months, but at the point of the story, she’s a couple years retired from the Nexus. Not by choice (though she would have chosen that), Big Mama just felt she was getting too much attention and didn’t want her to develop an ego.

Wherever their new living space is, it probably is in the Hidden City, but Friday doesn’t get the opportunity to roam. Her job is to assist Big Mama, and Frida is a bit of a workaholic. Never leaves her side except for when Mama sends her on errands. Big Mama has quite the hold on her, but it can’t stop Frida from taking an extra second to people watch… she has quite the interest in them.

2. Frida’s public image is a bit choppy. She’s a sort of legend in that not many people know much about her and lots of info seems to conflict. Many know Big Mama has a child- it’s in her name after all- but they can’t often put a face to the child. She grew up around the hotel but didn’t do much apart from her studies. Then once she got to an age Mama deemed old enough to fight, she became known as a warrior and eventually a champion. Once she had proved herself (or really, once Mama felt threatened by the amount of attention Frida was getting), she retired from the Battle Nexus and began her duties at the Hotel. She became known by the other staff members as “Big Sis”- no longer the child they had seen grow up, now a seasoned killing machine. Once the opportunity arose, Frida became Mama’s assistant until it was her main and most important role. When she makes appearances in public, her masked persona is known for her strength and brutality. When she is unmasked, she is the daughter of Big Mama- prestigious and powerful. Very few know the true extent of who she actually is. And wow this is getting long…

3. Hehehe I was just wanting to mention this ^^ I don’t think I’ve discussed Camille’s mystic abilities. In SWW, there is a distinct difference between mystic stuff and the Hamato ninpo. What Frida uses is her ninpo; Camille has had no such luck with ninpo stuff though (being alone for most of her life and all that). She does, however, possess a knack for mystic stuff and has some “natural” mystic powers. I say natural bc it’s as natural as it can be when you were made in a lab.

So first, she has psychometric precognition and retrocognition. That means when she can see the future or past (specifically relating to the individual) when she touches people. This results in her greeting people by just grabbing their faces (“I know more stuff the closer I touch to their head”). It’s not consistent though. For instance, it doesn’t always happen. She may touch someone and get nothing then do it again and oh wow so many visions all at once. She also can’t tell if it’s future stuff or past stuff which leads to lots of confusion.

Second, it’s not an innate power but Draxum taught her a telekinetic spell which is one of the few things she managed to remember from that time. She has the spell running almost constantly bc it’s very convenient and plays into her fighting style a lot.

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sparklypinkflightsuit · 8 months

Text

Predator and Prey: Chapter Three

Pairing: Tommy Cahill x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Minors do not interact, Slow Burn, War Inaccuracies, Swearing, Mention of PTSD but barely, Stalking, Abuse, Sexual Themes, Alcohol & Drugs, I think that’s it?

Summary: You and Tommy open up to one another about your difficult pasts.

- Chapter Two Here -

—————————-

The police had come and gone and they weren’t able to find anyone in your house. They’d checked the window latch which worked fine and said you must have opened the window to let in some fresh air and forgotten to close this, and the intruder must have taken what they wanted and left.

Regardless, you still didn’t feel safe, nothing was missing and you pretty much never opened the windows in the winter months, you were not a fan of the cold, and you couldn’t understand why Jet hadn’t scared them away. After all he was a big Alsatian and looked scary to anyone who didn’t know him as the goofball he actually was.

You didn’t sleep that night, instead you held up in the living room with Jet and watched reruns of The Office in the hopes of lightening your mood.

By morning you were exhausted, but you got up and left for work like any other morning, and made a mental note to buy some security cameras next time you went to the tech store.

The next few days passed uneventfully, and despite the discomfort you now felt in your own home, you were looking forward to your coffee date with Tommy.

Saturday morning arrived and you got dressed in your favourite jeans and oversized sweater, and gave Jet a big fuss before leaving. You made sure to double check that you had locked the door and windows before leaving, something you never second guessed before this week, and made your way to the local Cafe, the Toasted Bean.

Tommy waited for you outside, and quickly stubbed out his cigarette when he noticed you walking up to him.

“Sorry.” He mumbled with a sheepish grin, grinding his heel into the cigarette to make sure it was out, and held the door open for you to go in.

Once you had ordered drinks, you both sat near the window. You spoke about light hearted subjects for the first hour or so, only getting up to replace your drinks, and found it easy to be in each others presence.

“So…. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable, but, do you mind me asking what you went to prison for?” You asked, smiling gently and not wanting Tommy to think it was a dealbreaker. He had said it was nothing too terrible anyway.

Tommy grimaced and rubbed the back of his head, before looking you in the eye and sighing.

“I don’t mind, I just don’t want you to think I’m a bad guy or anything.” He looked a little sad, before continuing. “But I guess if you don’t hear it from me you’ll hear it from someone else, so here goes…”

Tommy told you the story of how he robbed a woman at gun point when he was desperate for money, having been in a dark place and too proud to ask his father or brother, he felt he had no other choice. He told you detail by detail how it had gone wrong, the woman had recognised him as Hank Cahills son and the police were called. He had never intended on using the gun and it wasn’t actually loaded, but the whole thing looked extremely bad and he was sentenced to 3 years. He told you how he had apologised to the woman when he got out and how she was thankful, and Tommy said he could never bring himself to do something like that ever again.

You believed him and gave him a soft smile, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand gently.

“I don’t think that makes you a bad guy.” You said. “I just think everyone has at least one shitty point in their lives when they do something totally out of character, and it seems that was yours.”

Tommy smiled and squeezed your hand back.

“What about you, I’ve been meaning to ask what your life was like before you left New York?” He asked, not realising he’d touched on a sensitive subject.

You took a sharp intake of breath and slowly pulled your hand out of his before putting your hands in your lap.

“Well, I guess since you’ve told me yours I better tell you mine.” You laughed awkwardly.

You then told Tommy how you had been living in and working in New York after college and you had met Jason when you’d gone out for drinks with some colleagues.

He had seemed charming at first, and you’d started dating, eventually moving in together and getting your dog Jet as a puppy. The first 3 years were idillic, and Jason was charismatic, kind, fun and everything you could have asked for.

Everything changed suddenly one night when Jason went to a rave with his friends, having taken some unknown drugs, something in him changed and he was never the same after that night.

Jason started waking up in a frenzy most nights, pacing up and down the hallway muttering to himself. Once you had made the mistake of trying to wake him from his crazed sleep walking, only for him to pin you against the wall by your throat, muttering “He’s coming, he’s coming for us.”

You had been terrified, and when you’d confronted him about it the next day, he didn’t remember a thing and called you crazy.

The nights were bad but eventually the days became even worse, with Jason’s temper getting the best of him. He’d began accusing you of bringing men home in the night, and having secret relationships in the apartment under his nose, and that you’d sent men after him to assassinate him so you could move on with your life. He’d started smashing plates against walls, kicking furniture across the room, and the straw that broke the camels back was when he started hitting you.

You’d called it quits, and you were quite tearful despite how afraid you now were of him, because you had had the best 3 years with him before that awful night, but this was not the life you signed up for.

You moved into a new apartment with Jet and tried to move on, but the problem was that all of your friends were originally Jason’s friends to begin with, and their loyalties lay with him. Jason had told everyone that the reason you’d ended things was because you were cheating on him with someone else, and his friends believed him over your “far fetched” story.

Jason had asked your friends to keep tabs on you, and at first you couldn’t understand how he’d kept turning up to the same events and bars as you, just lurking in the corners of rooms with a dark look in his eyes, but eventually you’d clocked on that your friends had been involved.

You decided to withdraw from social engagements altogether, and saved every dime you had instead. You were good at saving and already had a rather decent sum, although you had no idea what you planned to do with it.

One night while you and Jet were curled up on the sofa in your new apartment watching a movie, there was a knock on your door.

You had ordered pizza that night so assumed it was the delivery boy, and got money from your purse before walking to the door. You didn’t think to check before opening it, and were met with Jason leaning against your door frame with a maniacal grin on his face.

“Jason! How did you know were to find me?” You stuttered out, surprised, stumbling backwards. Big mistake.

Jason pushed his way into your apartment and closed the door behind him, blocking the exit. He didn’t answer, but you’d assumed one of your mutual friends had given him your new address.

Jason looked deranged, his hair wet and plastered to his forehead, his unfaltering grin and his hands in his jacket pockets.

“I’m gonna need you to leave.” You stated coldly.

Jet jumped off the sofa and went to greet Jason with a wag in his tail, you stopped him before he got too close. “Jet, no boy. Go lay down.” You instructed. Jet obeyed and slunk off with a huff to the sofa, laying down with puppy dog eyes, upset he didn’t get to say hello.

“See how much he misses me, (Y/N)?” Jason finally spoke. “I think it’s time you came home.”

You laughed a sarcastic laugh, shaking your head.

“You can’t be serious. After everything? No, Jason, you need to leave or I’ll have to call the cops.” You said, grabbing your phone from the kitchen counter top.

Before you could dial anything, Jason pulled his hand out of his pocket revealing a long, thin knife, one typically used to fillet beef. He must have had to poke a hole in his pocket to fit it in there.

The air left your lungs as all rational thinking stopped. You froze in the spot, unsure of what to do.

“You honestly think I’m just going to let you go huh? So that you can move on with someone else? You’ve wasted 3 fucking years of my life, (Y/N)!” He shouted, an angry expression replacing the grin.

“He’s finally here, (Y/N), he’s come for us and he won’t take me without you. If you don’t come willingly, well…. He didn’t say he needed you alive.” He laughed sinisterly.

This was all a game to Jason now, he didn’t actually care about you, he just wanted revenge or to feed whatever messed up hallucinations he was having.

“Who has come for us, Jason? Are you in trouble with someone? Do you owe money? I can give you the money you need!” You spluttered, your mind racing for any way to get out of this situation. You knew if you went with him you would never leave, so that was absolutely not an option.

Jason laughed and gripped the sides of his head as if trying to stop it from falling off, and looked at you with an exasperated expression, the knife precariously close to his eye.

“You just don’t get it do you? You never did! This is the problem with people like you, (Y/N), you scum of the earth ruin all things good for people like me!” He shouted, pointing the knife at you like an appendage, spit flying out of his mouth.

At this point you were shaking, the man in front of you was not rational, nothing you could say would bring him off the edge, and you knew he was on the brink of snapping.

You looked right out of the corner of your eye, mentally calculating if you could make the short distance to the couch to grab Jet and sprint to the bathroom. It seemed unlikely, Jason was too close to you, but you refused to go anywhere without your dog, as you had no idea just how far this man would go to get to you.

You spied a heavy vase on your kitchen island, and without a second thought you grabbed it and launched it at Jason’s head.

It landed with a heavy crashing noise and you took the opportunity. You turned on your heel and sprinted towards the couch.

Jason dizzily gripped his head, blood dripping onto his hands. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his vision.

You grabbed Jet with all of your strength, thinking it quicker to scoop the large dog into your arms than to take him by the collar. The adrenaline making him feel lighter than he was. Jason had regained his sense of awareness and started to close the short gap, a dead look now cast over him.

You skid into the bathroom, lobbing Jet as carefully as you could inside before swinging around to shut the door, but Jason was too quick, grabbing you by the hair and slamming your head onto the bathrooms tiled floor.

His weight on top of you was too much to shift and now you felt dizzy, trying your best to push the knifed hand away from your neck without much luck. You could feel the blade cutting the skin while Jets barking faded into muffled sounds, you had realised this was it.

You closed your eyes, not wanting your last memory to be of those cold, disturbed eyes you had once loved. You waited for the cold blade to penetrate your windpipe. You waited, and waited, and suddenly the weight on top of you lifted.

Slowly you opened your eyes, and your hearing rushed back, loud and intrusive, with Jets booming barks continuing.

Jason was now slumped over next to you, unconscious. The pizza delivery boy stood over him with a heavy stone paperweight from your coffee table, eyes wide and hands shaking.

The pizza boy waited with you until the police arrived, after they took his statement you thanked him profusely and gave him the biggest tip he had seen in his life.

You gave the police the full run down of how things with Jason had been since that night, and they took him away.

You made a decision that night to pack your things and get the hell out of dodge, not stopping until you found somewhere far enough to settle down.

You finished your story and finally looked up to Tommy, thinking he’d laugh at you and call your story far fetched, but instead he looked wracked with guilt for something he didn’t do. He got out of his chair without another word, walked around to your side and gently grabbed your arm to pull you into a standing position. He looked at you incredulously for a second, before pulling you into a hug.

You were surprised for a moment, but after a few seconds you melted into his warmth. You knew this would be a good thing, Tommy held no malice, something you had to realise not all men had.

——————————

- Chapter Four Here -

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ofc-vi-writes-too · 3 months

Text

Friends Don’t (Exposition)

Friends Don’t part one (Bucky x black!super!reader)

Word Count: 1.9k

You’ve been aquainted with Sgt. Barnes for about 2 years, but you’ve only begun to know him recently. The first time you met him was the only time until now. You were a friend of Sam’s and one day in 2016 he called you to help him help his new friend Captain America smuggle someone out of New York. The rest was basicaly history.

You remember the first time you saw him: dark and brooding and wildly handsome. You remember jokingly asking Sam if you could go with the blonde and brunette men to wherever they were headed, and getting a less than playful elbow to the ribs as a response. Sam told you there that was a road that you definitely didn’t want to go down.

You remember thinking about him often after the first time you saw him on that day. Wondering if he was okay, and praying that he and the Captain wouldn’t have to be the run forever. And that you wouldn’t either. That was until you found him one day in the most unlikely of places in early 2018, some months before Thanos came. Before the blip. You had taken refuge in Wakanda, and trained with the Dora Milaje to maintain your gift of enhanced strength and speed, adopting a similar fighting style, and physical appearance, from the colors of your clothes, to shaving your head. It was easier to manage anyway in the Wakandan heat.

At first you didn’t believe your eyes, you stood there, your mouth slightly agape and your body unmoving. The last place you expected that white city boy to be was raising goats in Africa, on top of the fact that you still thought there was a part of him that irked T’Challa despite his claims that all had been forgiven especially since Barnes’s involvement in his father’s death was just a misunderstanding.

Eventually he noticed you standing a good ten yards away. Even before Hydra got a hold of him, That man had a keen sense of when he was being watched. It made him a good soldier, and an even better liar. He couldn’t say he remembered you, but your face was familiar. The lack of hair through him off though. Soft features and beautiful brown skin made his mouth go dry.

“Bucky?” You asked, immediately regretting using his nickname. You had barely even spoken to him ever, it had to be too informal so you corrected yourself, “I’m sorry. I mean James. Or… or Mr. Barnes…?”

This was already going poorly.

“Please,” he sighed, “Anything but Mr. Barnes. That was my father.” The distaste at the name was palpable in his words.

“James is fine,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. He didn’t get many visitors out here so he had almost forgotten how to talk to someone who wasn’t an obstinate goat. He liked it that way though, “Is there something I can help you with?”

“No, I just… I was just wondering around. You don’t remember me do you?” you asked, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips.

“No,” he said plainly. I wish I did, though, he silently added.

“I’m friends with Sam Wilson, who is friends with a friend of yours. Captain America. I’ve been hiding out here for the past three years since everything that happened in 2016. I’m gonna assume you’ve been doing the same thing?” you said, gesturing at him and his farm. You actually took in his appearance and noticed several braids that held the hair out of his face, and his metal arm was nowhere in sight— you wondered to yourself if a condition of him staying there meant he had to give it up or if he wanted to be rid of it on his own. You also wondered, perhaps impolitely how he braided his hair with only one arm or if someone else was doing it for him.

“Pretty much, yeah. Uhm, I guess I should say thank you for helping me, then. Right?” he said, giving a small chuckle. He seemed more relaxed compared to the last time you saw him— not a lot but there was still a noticeable difference.

“It really is no problem. It’s not every day that your best friend gives you a call and says Captain america needs your help doing something illegal,” you responded, smiling wide, “I should get going though. People will start to wonder where I’ve gone. It was nice to see you again, James.”

You turned on your heel to leave, but before you could take more than 2 steps he called out to you, “Wait! Wait. Do you maybe want to hang out sometime?” he asked. He wasn’t typically one who tried to make friends, but there was something about you that was magnetizing to him. Even though he had really only spoken to you for the first time today, your aura was hypnotizing to him, and he needed to see you again.

“Sure,” you said, trying to feign only mild interest, “When?”

“Whenever you want to come back. I’m always here and always free. So show up whenever,” he said in a mild way, you could hear Brooklyn in his voice. You could hear home. His hand floated to mess with the ends of his hair, which must have been a nervous tic of his— cute.

“Okay. I’ll be back, James,” you turned on your heel to leave again, without being stopped this time.

————————————————————————

And that you were. You were back 2 days later, a basket of fruit in hand. This time you were free for the whole afternoon, so you had time to take your time here. You didn’t see him outside, so you knocked on the clay wall, instead of the door because there wasn’t one. His quiet farm heavily contrasted with the sleek, metallic and heavily technologically involved rest of Wakanda you had experienced. The thought lingered in the back of your mind as the stringed beads that shielded the entry to his home were pulled back to reveal a disheveled James in front of you.

His hair stuck up every which way, and his face was rosy and puffy from sleep.

“Did I wake you?” you teased, taking a step back from the door frame.

“Yeah, but uhm. It’s no problem,” he said, eyes squinting as he took in the bright sunlight, and coming his loose hair back out of his face, “Come in.”

He slid out of the door way and gestured for you to follow him to his small kitchen table. He poured you and himself cold tall glasses of karkade. It was similar to what you had before in Sudan, but there was an extra spice to match with that sweet mintiness that made it entirely Wakandan. He sat down across from you and you drank in silence for a moment before a question bubbled from your lips before you could stop it.

“Do you braid your own hair,” You asked, almost sheepishly before taking another sip of your tea, and he gave a mild but amused scoff as a reply.

“Ah, no,” he said with a weak grin, looking at his right palm, “There is a school that isn’t to far from hear, and my farm happens to be on the way home for a lot of kids who walk. Sometimes they stop by to say hi to the goats, or just to bother me.”

You smiled again, not vocalizing that that was absolutely adorable but instead saying, “That’s aweful kind of you.”

“What is?” he asked, not commenting on how he hadn’t heard anyone talk about him and kind in the same sentence in over 70 years, and it seemed like recently he’d been getting more pity from everyone around him than anything else.

“The fact that you let them visit. I remember the first time i saw you I thought…” you didn’t want to use the word scary because it wasn’t true. You stewed in the thought for a moment trying to pick a better word, and James eyes you keenly waiting to see how you would finish this sentence.

“I thought you weren’t really a fan of people,” is what you decided on, and James gave a tilt of his head that suggested it was true.

“Yes, well, it’s hard to stop so many of them, so I gave up trying. You know, they used to only mess with the goats, and whenever I came out they would run. But then I stopped wearing my arm,” he admitted, looking to the left side of his body before looking at you, “ What possessed you to come all the way out here the first time anyway,” he deflected, moving the conversation on from his arm.

“Like I said, I was just wondering around. I’ve been here for two years and theres still so much of Wakanda I haven’t seen. I mean, It took me two years to find you here and I’m with Shuri and Okoye most days of the week. I clearly need to get out more..” you said the last sentence with a sigh, resting your chin on your palm.

“Well I guess we’ll have to change that soon,” he grinned, a roguish expression painted across his features.

————————————————————————

Several hours passed, and the sun began to set, painting the sky outside vibrant shades of orange, blue and pink. You and James had spent the afternoon laughing over tea and some snacks he had pulled together before there was a knock outside thay drew yours and his attention.

You and he were both shocked that someone had come all the way out here, especially at this time of day. James went to the door and you followed a few paces behind him.

It was Okoye coming to collect you.

“White wolf,” she regarded James with a curt nod which he returned before Okoye turned to you to speak, “You have been gone all day. It’s getting late, and we still have business to attend to back at the palace.”

You had heard of the white wolf before but for some reason it had never clicked that it was him before now.

“You have no sense of fun,” you sighed, standing from your seat and moving towards the exist of James’s humble home.

“I do. I just know when work takes precedent,” and that was all okoye had to say on the matter. She was already outside waiting for you while you said goodbye to James.

“May we leave now?” she asked, although her tone moreso implied that you were leaving now no matter what you said, so you simply agreed and followed her back home.

As you two walked back home— something shuri and the king both despised doing from this far— she continued to talk about plans for the coming week that involved you. Unfortunately for her, you were only tuned in enough to add in the occasional ‘mhm’ and ‘sounds good’ when it was appropriate, but truly your mind was elsewhere.

Your head swam with thoughts of your new handsome friend. You hadn’t even thought to ask if he had a phone until now, although you highly doubted it. You knew he came from an era before them. Let alone the fact that he was hiding and on the run making it even less likely. Anyone who needed to contact him would know where to find him already you concluded, but that wasn’t good enough for you. He needed a phone so you could keep talking to him. You were going to fix this conundrum you had found yourself in. Maybe he’d like kimoyo beads better. They might be easier to get your hands on anyway.

————————————————————————

A/N: OMGGG finally done with chapter one!! it took forever but here it is. I hope people actually read it and enjoy it 😭 i used to write on wattpad but people literally only read the smut i wrote so hopefully it isnt like that over here lol. If you made it this far thank you so much for dedicating time out of your day to read my writing it genuinely makes me so happy to see other people who enjoy what i put out there. Every time i upload something i feel like im bearing part of my soul for the internet to judge lol. thank you so much again im so grateful in advance for every single note i get on here. OKAY BYEEE 💗💗

#chapter 1 #bucky x female reader #slow burn #bucky x black!reader #no beta we die like men #no beta we die like jason todd #canon compliant

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zapreportsblog · 1 year

Text

❝hydra prized creation❞

✭ pairing : various x reader

✭ fandom : avengers

✭ summary : Hydra created a mastermind unlike none other with intellects only the greatest individuals could possess they combined that with their new advanced version of the super solider serum, and thus a ghost was born.

✭ authors note : I’ve noticed that I’ve been doing lots of requests and haven’t had time to update some of the series I’ve always posted on here so here part 9 of this story

✭ chapter 9 : the chase

✭ hydra prized creation masterlist

Life had taken a turn for the better for (Y/N) in the months since she had found refuge within New York. She had managed to keep a steady job at a the cafe, where her warm smile and friendly demeanor had quickly made her a favorite among the regulars. Despite the newfound sense of safety, the shadow of her past still loomed over her, leaving her perpetually wary.

One sunny afternoon, (Y/N) left work early since the owner had left early due to a family emergency, and so she had began the walk back to her apartment. The bustling city streets were alive with activity, yet an uneasiness still clung to her. She felt eyes on her, an unnerving sensation that had become all too familiar. The paranoia was a constant reminder of the hold Hydra had once had on her.

As she quickened her pace, the footsteps behind her seemed to match hers. Panic surged through her veins, and she broke into a run, heart pounding in her chest. The footsteps persisted, echoing in her ears like a haunting melody. She glanced over her shoulder, the fear driving her forward.

"Wait! Hold on!" a voice called out from behind her.

But (Y/N)'s mind was gripped by the thought of Hydra agents pursuing her once again. She didn't slow down, her heart racing, until strong hands gently grabbed her shoulders, halting her escape.

As she turned to scream, her eyes widened, and her voice caught in her throat. Before her stood a man, his blue eyes filled with concern. Recognition struck her like a bolt of lightning—Steve Rogers, the one they called Captain America.

"I'm so sorry if I scared you," Steve said, his voice sincere. "You dropped these." He held out a pair of headphones, a sheepish smile on his lips.

(Y/N)'s heart was still racing, her panic slowly subsiding as reality sunk in. She took the headphones, her face flushed with embarrassment. "I thought... I thought you were someone else."

Steve's expression softened. "I can imagine. I shouldn't have approached you like that."

She nodded, her cheeks burning. "It's okay… I'm still a bit jumpy I guess.”

"I understand," Steve replied, his voice gentle. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

(Y/N) offered a small smile, her nerves beginning to settle. "Thank you for returning these. And, um, sorry for running away like that."

Steve chuckled softly. "No need to apologize. I should have been more careful."

As they stood on the bustling sidewalk, (Y/N)'s tension continued to ease. The presence of someone like Steve, a symbol of hope and protection, had a way of comforting her. She glanced down at the headphones in her hand and then back at him.

"I appreciate it, really," she said, her voice sincere. "And sorry for... well, overreacting."

Steve's smile was warm and understanding. "No harm done. Just glad everything's okay."

With a nod and a shy smile, (Y/N) turned to continue her walk back home. As she walked away, she couldn't help but feel a sense of relief—relief that not everyone was a threat.

(Y/N)'s heart was still racing from the encounter, but a newfound sense of calm settled over her as she realized she wasn’t in any real danger. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the city streets.

As she approached her small apartment building, a thought crossed her mind. She had been so taken aback by the encounter that she hadn't properly thanked Steve for returning her headphones. With a newfound sense of determination, she decided to extend an invitation.

"Um, excuse me," she said, turning to face Steve, who was walking a few paces behind her just about to leave and head off most likely towards his own home.

He smiled warmly. "Yes?"

"I know it's a bit sudden, but would you like to come over to my place? I'd like to show my appreciation for, you know, returning my headphones."

Steve's blue eyes twinkled with amusement. "You don't have to do that. But if you're sure..."

(Y/N) nodded, a shy smile on her lips. "I am. It's the least I can do."

With a nod, Steve agreed, and they continued their walk to her apartment building. Once they arrived, (Y/N) led him up the flights of stairs to her small unit. She unlocked the door and gestured for him to enter.

As Steve stepped inside, he looked around the modest space. The apartment was sparsely furnished, with a few basic pieces of furniture and little decoration. His gaze caught a glimpse of the almost empty shelves, and his curiosity got the better of him.

"It looks like you've just moved in," Steve commented, his voice gentle.

(Y/N) followed his gaze, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "Yeah, I have. I've been saving up for things to fill the place, but it's been a slow process."

Steve turned to her, his expression sympathetic. "I didn't mean to pry."

She smiled, trying to hide her self-consciousness. "It's okay. I'm just glad I have a roof over my head."

As they stood in the small living room, (Y/N) couldn't help but notice Steve's eyes lingering on the lack of furnishings. She cleared her throat, feeling the need to explain.

"I promise, it's not always this bare," she said with a light laugh. "I'm working on making it feel more like home."

Steve's smile was understanding. "I think it already feels cozy."

(Y/N) felt a warmth spread through her at his words. It was strange, having someone in her space, but Steve's presence felt oddly comforting. She led him to the small kitchen area and offered him a seat.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked.

"Just water is fine, thanks," he replied.

As she fetched glasses of water, she couldn't help but think about how unexpected this turn of events was. She had invited Steve over out of gratitude, but now she found herself hoping that the evening would be a chance to get to know him better.

As they sat and chatted about their respective experiences, (Y/N) felt a growing sense of connection. Steve's presence was easygoing, and he shared stories from his past that made her feel like she wasn't alone in her struggles. The apartment, once bare and empty, began to feel warmer with each passing moment.

As the evening drew to a close, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel grateful for the chance encounter and the unexpected friendship that had blossomed from it. With a smile, she looked at Steve and said, "Thank you for coming over, Steve. You didn’t have too but I appreciate it.”

His smile was genuine, his eyes warm. "It was my pleasure. I'm glad I could help."

As Steve left her apartment that night, (Y/N) felt a newfound sense of hope. Though her past had been filled with darkness and uncertainty, the presence of someone like Steve Rogers reminded her that there were good people in the world—people willing to extend a hand of kindness, and perhaps even become a part of the brighter future she was working toward.

#x reader #x reader series #the avengers x hydra reader #avengers x you #avengers imagines #avengers imagine #the avengers #the avengers imagine #the avengers imagines #avengers x reader #the avengers x reader #x hydra reader #hydra x reader #hydra prized creation #hydra prized creation series #hydra prized creation masterlist

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lilyvandersteen · 1 year

Photo

Home Away From Home by @lilyvandersteen

This story was written for the Klaine Prompt Reverse Bang, and is dedicated to @justgleekout, who made art for this prompt, and to my faithful beta @hkvoyage. Thank you so much!

Summary:

Cooper buys a hotel sight unseen and asks Blaine to run it for him over the summer. Only, the hotel is a health and safety hazard and Inspectors Hummel and Abrams are hell-bent on closing it down. Can Blaine spruce the hotel up in time and save Cooper's investment?

Rated M. Warning for the use of a rape drug in the story. No actual rape, though, I assure you.

You can also read this story on AO3.

~~~~~~

Prologue

Thump!

Blaine woke with a start as he fell out of bed.

“Oops!” said his roommate, wincing sympathetically. “Didn’t mean to push you that hard, but you just wouldn’t wake up.”

Blaine groaned and rubbed his sore bottom as he got up, squinting at his alarm clock. “Tina! It’s three o’clock in the morning! Why would you wake me up at this hour?”

“So you could answer your phone. Or silence it. It’s been blaring off and on for at least ten minutes. You’re lucky I haven’t smashed it to bits yet!”

Right on cue, Blaine’s phone went off again. He grabbed it and tapped the Answer button.

“Hey squirt!” Cooper boomed.

“Don’t call me… Coop, why on EARTH are you waking me up in the middle of the night?”

“What? It’s not… Oh, hang on, time difference. Right. Didn’t think of that, squirt, sorry.”

Blaine sighed. “Don’t call me squirt. And okay, I guess you’re filming somewhere at the other side of the world again?”

“Yes, we’re working on that fantasy series for Netflix that I told you about. I’m in Thailand right now. Flying to New Zealand tomorrow. I’m having a total blast.”

“That’s great. Now tell me, what was so important you had to tell me right this minute?”

“Oh! Oh, just you wait, you’re going to LOVE this!”

“Uh-oh,” Blaine mumbled between gritted teeth. “What now?”

Cooper either didn’t hear him, or pretended not to.

“You know how you’re always telling me to stop spending my money on stuff like cars and tech, right?”

Blaine huffed. “And with good reason. You spend an obscene amount on gadgets. And that Bugatti is SO over the top.”

“Exactly!” said Cooper. “Well, now I’ve made a ‘sound investment’, as you call it. Real estate, as you advised.”

Blaine’s heart leapt. “Really? You bought a place in New York? And you’re calling me to ask me if I will move in with you? The answer’s yes!”

Tina put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“Nah… No. Not exactly.”

Blaine’s sense of misgiving tingled.

“I didn’t buy a house. I bought a hotel. It was a steal, I’m telling you. I couldn’t pass it up!”

“A hotel? Where? Why?”

“Well, I won’t be this pretty forever, you know,” Cooper explained. “And then I might not get booked as an actor anymore. So I needed to find a back-up plan for when I stop being in demand. Talked about it with the guys here over lunch, and Sebastian Smythe, who plays my younger brother in the series we’re filming, said he had a hotel he could sell me. I kind of like the thought of offering people a nice vacation, you know. A home away from home. Maybe I could do a one-man show after dinner. Like they do on cruises. Doesn’t that sound amazing?”

“Yes, yes, that’s all very well, but you’re still filming now. So who’s going to run the hotel?”

“Well, that’s where you come in,” Cooper announced cheerfully. “You’re done with your exams, right? And now you’ve got several months off. So you can go check out the hotel for me. See if the staff that’s in place is okay or needs to be replaced.”

“Coop, are you insane?”

“Think of it as a free vacation, squirt. I’m sure the staff will pamper you once they find out you’re the brother of the new owner!”

Blaine shook his head slowly in disbelief. “Have you even SEEN the place before you bought it?”

“On the website, yes. It looks great!”

“Ugh, Coop! So you saw a couple of pretty pictures on a website and shelled out a fortune sight unseen? How can you be sure the place even exists?”

Cooper chuckled. “Well, of course it exists! The previous owner sent me an Excel spreadsheet with the bookings. It’s booked solid for the rest of the year already! Just think what a fortune I’m going to make!”

Blaine tugged at his curls in frustration, repressing an ungodly urge to strangle his brother. “UN-BE-LIEVE-A-BLE. You are unbelievable! Okay, not everyone has a head for business, but I can’t believe you are THIS much of an idiot! Are you sure you’re actually my brother and George Anderson’s son? Our father would have a conniption if he found out about this!”

“I thought you’d be happy I’d followed your advice.”

Blaine could almost hear his brother’s pout.

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair again.

“I know you meant well. But… Buying a place without even visiting it first is not a good idea, and that’s putting it mildly. There could be all sorts of things wrong with it. If you say you didn’t pay much, that’s quite likely, in fact. This ‘investment’ of yours may be just as useless as that Nintendo Wii Supreme you just had to have.”

“Hey! It’s not useless! I’ve used it a lot!” Cooper protested. “And I’m sure it’s all on the up and up. As I said, the pics on the website look fantastic!”

Blaine pinched the bridge of his nose and suppressed another sigh. Talking to Cooper was very much like talking to a toddler, sometimes.

“Coop … Anyone can copy-paste a couple of nice pictures onto a website. That doesn’t prove anything. Did the realtor give you a virtual tour?”

“Uhm… No.”

“Did you pay someone to do a thorough inspection of the property before you bought it?”

“No.”

“Please tell me that the offer you made had a home inspection contingency, at least?”

“Uhm… No idea.”

Blaine’s voice rose an octave. “A title contingency, to make sure no-one else can claim the property?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you even so much as look the hotel up on TripAdvisor to see if it had good reviews?”

“Nope, didn’t think of that.”

“Oh, Coop…” Blaine groaned. “What a mess! You need to go there, stat, and check the property from top to bottom. You actually bought it already, right? It’s not just an offer you can withdraw?”

“It’s mine, yes. I signed a contract. But you know I can’t go check the property right now. I’m heading to New Zealand tomorrow, and I’m needed there for at least six more weeks.”

Blaine let his head down, overwhelmed. “Ugh… I’m not awake enough for this. Coop, send me all the info, and the contract, by e-mail. I’ll look it over and see what our options are.”

“I knew I could count on you, squirt. Thanks a lot. I’ll send you everything. And now I’ll let you sleep. Sorry again for waking you up, and talk to you later!”

Cooper rang off, and Blaine was left staring at the phone in his hands in bewilderment.

Tina cocked her head to the side. “So… Your brother bought a hotel? Just like that?”

Blaine nodded. “Just like that. And then recruited me to sort everything out for him. Oh, this is going to be a disaster!”

“Why are you in such a panic about this, Blainey Days? Surely, your brother wouldn’t let himself be duped?”

Blaine groaned. “Oh, yes, he would!”

He patted Tina on the arm. “But that’s my problem, not yours. You can go back to bed, and I’m sorry my idiot brother woke you up like that. I’ll make you pancakes in the morning to make up for it, okay?”

“Okay. G’night.”

Blaine wearily shuffled back to his bed, and was out like a light.

By six a.m., though, he was awake again, worrying.

After half an hour of tossing and turning, he got up quietly and started up his computer.

Cooper had sent the files, as requested.

The contract did not have a home inspection contingency nor a title contingency, as Blaine had feared.

The hotel wasn’t in a nice touristy location. It was in the middle of nowhere. A place called Lima, Ohio.

Also, the hotel had certainly not been a “steal”. Cooper must have sunk a lot of capital into it.

The photos on the website did look good, yes, but as soon as Blaine checked the reviews about the hotel on TripAdvisor, he knew they had to be fake.

All of the reviews were negative. And it was bad. Worse even than Blaine had feared.

The mildest complaint was one about the lack of free Wi-Fi. It went steadily downhill from there.

Guests complained about the hotel being overbooked. About dirty and stinky rooms. About a faulty outlet that fried their shaver. About bed bugs and cockroaches. About leaking taps that kept them up all night. About wanting a nice hot shower and only getting freezing cold water. About noisy neighbours that kept them up all night because the walls were so flimsy you could hear everything through them. About beds that creaked with every move they made and mattresses so old and thin their back was in knots. About sweltering heat in summer and bone-deep cold in winter, because the air conditioning units didn’t work. About the stale bread and lukewarm coffee they got for breakfast. About seeing mice in the restaurant. About rude staff that would come into their room without even knocking or that were accused of stealing money and a phone charger. About the lack of elevators and ramps for wheelchairs. And a blind person complained about their assistance dog not being let in.

When he’d read all of the scathing reviews, Blaine let out his breath in a big woosh.

Oh, Cooper, what have you done now?

Blaine felt like banging his head on the table in frustration, but refrained, choosing to get started on the pancakes instead.

When Tina emerged from her bedroom and saw how unhappy her roommate looked, she steered him towards a kitchen chair to give him a shoulder massage, saying, “Tell me all about it, Bee.”

So Blaine told her everything.

She whistled low. “I know the place. I grew up in Lima. And that hotel was where I lost my virginity after prom.”

Blaine shuddered. “TMI!”

Tina laughed. “Oh please! That’s something everyone does in high school. Get over yourself!”

Blaine wouldn’t meet her eyes, thinking of the only school dance he’d ever been to and how that had ended.

“Not everyone,” he mumbled.

“Well, anyway,” said Tina, “the place was a dump even then. I’d say sell it again immediately. But who’s going to want it? And even if someone does, they’ll pay a lot less than your brother did, so he’ll lose a lot of money.”

“Yep.”

“Can he afford to lose that much money?”

“Nope.”

Tina clacked her tongue. “Then we’ll have to do what we can to save the situation.”

“We?”

Tina put her hands on her hips. “Yes, well, unlike SOME people, I believe in roommate solidarity. Don’t think I didn’t hear you, telling Cooper you’d move in with him!”

“I meant for you to come with me, of course,” Blaine tried weakly, but Tina wasn’t having it, sending him a fierce glare.

Blaine looked down and swallowed, remembering how happy he’d been for a moment before Cooper had dashed his hopes. “Sorry. I just… I saw myself living in one of those pretty brownstones, and I jumped the gun. Sorry. As it happens, you don’t need to be scared I’ll leave you in the lurch. If I want a brownstone, I’ll have to buy one with my own money one day. Cooper’s proved once again that I shouldn’t count on him. And I was a fool to think I could, even for a split second. He’s an idiot, and all he ever does is make my life difficult. I should know that by now. He’s proved it so many times.”

“Aww, don’t be so hard on him.”

Blaine put a pancake on his plate and drowned it in syrup. Then he started shovelling big bites into his mouth, chewing with vigour and determinedly not looking at Tina.

“Blaine, don’t be like that. He made a mistake. We all do that, don’t we?”

Blaine swallowed a piece of pancake and retorted, “Our mistakes don’t cost millions of dollars. That’s the difference.”

“Well, he’ll make more millions, won’t he? How much does he get for that acting job he’s doing now?”

Blaine shrugged. “Dunno. But it had better be a lot, if we’re to renovate the hotel he bought. Let me first check with Monique if we can get that contract voided, though. I don’t think we’ll be that lucky, but it won’t hurt to check.”

“Who’s Monique?”

“She works for my father,” Blaine clarified. “Has done so for years. She’s like part of the family. I’ve known her since I was very little. Played with her daughter in my father’s office.”

“Hmm, so how could she help you? And why would she?”

“Monique has a soft spot for me,” Blaine smiled, thinking of all the scrapes with his father she’d gotten him out of. “And she knows this stuff like the back of her hand. She does everything that’s to do with real estate for my father. Buying, selling, finding contractors for renovation works, buying furniture for buildings, you name it, she does it.”

Tina cocked her head to the side. “Why didn’t Cooper contact her then, if he wanted to buy a hotel?”

“Coop’s more of a split-second decision kind of guy,” Blaine told her. “Never looks before he leaps. And then he looks to me to solve the problems he’s created. It’s exhausting.”

“You’d think he were the younger brother,” Tina giggled.

“Yep. He’s almost forty, but he still has the impulse control of a four-year-old.”

After breakfast and doing the dishes, Blaine called Monique and explained the situation, sending her all the documents. She confirmed what he thought – there was no backing out of the contract anymore.

Ugh.

“Could you check if the place is Cooper’s outright, please?” Blaine asked. “Seeing as there’s no title contingency, there’s no knowing who else might have a claim on it.”

“I’ll look into it,” Monique said, “but I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

“Oh, and please don’t tell our father about this, Monique, okay?” Blaine implored her. “He’d go ballistic, and even though Coop is a moron, I don’t want him dead.”

Monique laughed and promised not to breathe a word about it to Mr. Anderson. “And if you need any help fixing the place up, you know who to call. Glad to help, whatever you need!”

“Well, the first thing we’re going to need is pest control. So if you know a good pest control firm over there in Ohio?”

Monique hummed and click-clacked on her keyboard for a minute or two. Then she said, “We’ve worked with Orkin, based in Cincinnati, Ohio. Did the job well. I’ll e-mail you their contact information. What else?”

“An HAVC specialist, a handyman and an electrician to fix all sorts of stuff, and a reliable plumber. Oh, and another thing… You buy loads of office furniture and supplies cheap in auctions, right? When companies go bust and their assets are sold to pay the debts?”

“That’s right. Want me to look for hotel stuff for you?”

“Yes, please. Furniture, mattresses, quality linens, you name it, we’re going to need it. Thanks, Monique!”

Monique chuckled. “It’s your brother who should say thank you. The things we do for that boy, right?”

“Right,” Blaine sighed. “Looks like I’m heading to Ohio for the summer. I’ll keep you posted, Monique, and thanks again!”

#klaine fanfiction #klaine prompt reverse bang #justgleekout #enemies to lovers #though enemies is too strong a term #happy reading!

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