#also bless her car's heated seats because that absolutely helped | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crimsonwolfie · 4 years

Text

Fortuitous Love — Theo Raeken x Werewolf!Reader

Prompt: You (the reader) are a werewolf in London who live with Jackson and Ethan. You all travel to Beacon Hills to help Scott’s pack fight against the hunters, only things happen unexpectedly...

Warnings: occasionally swearing, trigger of dying/pain, fluff and general happy ending

Word count: 4,799

Masterlist

“You know, you’re asking for your death certificate by doing this.”

“I’m part werewolf, part kanima, darling. They’ve got nothing on me.”

“What about us, my love? We’re only werewolves. Sorry for not having the intolerance to wolfsbane unlike you!”

Carrying your head in your hands, you sigh dramatically at the two loverbirds in the front seats. Jackson and Ethan have been your friends (more like parents) for the past 2 years, after they found you alone and scared on the night you turned. Ever since then, they’ve taken you under their wing like their own and helped you control yourself - they were there for you when no one else was. During those 2 years, they’ve confided in you completely, telling you about Beacon Hills and their friends back there like Lydia, Stiles, Scott and Derek Hale. Being in London, you don’t really make any run in appearances with other supernaturals so your knowledge of them is remotely vague...but ever since your date took you out on a walk through the woods and bit you, you’ve wanted to know everything you can about all of it. If it wasn’t for Jackson and Ethan walking home from a dinner date and heard you scream, then you wouldn’t even be here to tell your story.

A cold, refreshing breeze hits your heated pink cheeks as your hair is swept back from the car window being down. Peering up through the sunroof, you see the moon full and as bright as the heavens above, bringing a small smile to your lips. As the reflection of the moonlight appears upon your glossy eyes, your mind wanders into reminiscing what your life was like before you changed...how you couldn’t hear everything in a 3 mile radius, how you had to ask how people were feeling instead of smelling their emotions...how you didn’t have to be weary of people hunting you down just to kill you for personal gain...

“How’re you feeling, Y/N?” you’re snapped back to reality by Jackson turning around in his seat, his eyes soft and his dimples merry.

“I’m okay, a little nervous i guess” you reply, shifting in your seat slightly whilst tugging the sleeves of your hoodie onto your hands “but hey, what about you? I mean...you haven’t seen these people for 3 years”

“It’s okay, not like they’re strangers. It’s just a shame it’s not under better circumstances” Jackson drops his head slightly in guilt. You know he thinks he should have visited them at least once a year, but with so many supernatural occurrences that have happened in Beacon Hills over the years, he knew it wasn’t the right time. And you knew that too.

“Look, you couldn’t see them before this. It was too dangerous, okay? You’re not in the wrong.” You place your dainty hand over his large one, gripping it tightly in a way to say “it’s going to be okay.” He returns this with a gentle squeeze of your hand and a small smile, before letting go and turning back to the front.

You, Jackson and Ethan were on your way to Beacon Hills to help the pack fight against pretty much the whole town, who have been turned by their own fear to fighting and killing all supernatural creatures. Hunters had been sent to London to hunt down you three, obviously they didn’t succeed but you guys were absolutely pissed. In a way, this is all a blessing in disguise to you, as you’re now on your way to meet people who are meant to be like a second family to you. You’ve heard so much about them all, that you feel like you have already met them...it’s...weird.

“Don’t be scared, darlings” Ethan disturbs the comforting silence with a soft tone “i can sense the fear from both of you, it’s thicker than a bowl of oatme-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” you lean forward poking your head between the two seats in front, glaring at Ethan with beady eyes. Both men wheeze as you breathe out a slight laugh.

“-and anyway...i’m not scared.” You retort, placing your hands on your hips and tilting your head slightly whilst staring into Ethan’s eyes in the mirror. He stares back at you, crinkles on his eyelines and cheek bones high as he cackles softly at your words

“Yeah right princess”

“It’s true! I’m not!”

“It’s okay if you are, sweetie” Jackson pouts sarcastically, earning a middle finger from you. “Hey, don’t be mean little lady!” Jackson wiggles his finger at you whilst tutting your choice of actions.

“Love i will not hesitate to bite your finger off and throw it out this window” you hiss as your eyes glow a bright golden colour. Since you’re London born and raised, you have a british accent coating your words, making it all that more humorous for the two americans in front of you. Your accent has always been something they find both fascinating about you, but also a way to tease you about how you say certain words. You look up to the window reflection to see your eyes are glowing and quickly look down and shake it off.

“You know, i think you’ll get on very well with Theo Raeken” Jackson pipes up, you look up to see him smirking, knowing it’ll wind you up even more.

“Who is this Theo Raeken guy, anyway. I thought you said you both left town before he appeared?”

“Oh we did, only it’s a pretty small world and that guy gets around..” Ethan side eyes Jackson, wearing a confused “just tell her” expression

“...okay maybe because Lydia calls me every week to tell me what i’ve missed.” He sighs as he rolls his eyes. You smirk sweetly, quite enjoying the view in front of you.

“So what’s he like?” You ask, intrigued to know more about this ‘Theo’ guy

“He’s a dick”

“And a liar”

“And a snake”

“Wait how’s that even possible?! I didn’t even think you could have a snake hybr-“

“-no not literally silly, you can’t trust him. He’s a snake that way”

“-oh.”

...

“Is he fit though?”

“Y/N STOP”

—

The car comes to a sudden halt outside an old, abandoned building. The night sky darkens your surroundings, taking away any sort of comfort you had before. Had you reached your destination? Or was something stopping you from reaching it? Remote darkness surrounds you all with not a glimpse of light in sight - no street lamps lit, no lights in the buildings and no cat eyes in the road. It’s almost as if you’re standing in the middle of a ghost town, or even a graveyard.

“This...this can’t be right?” Ethan begins to fiddle with the satnav displayed in front of him “it’s saying ‘route malfunction. No route calculated?”

“It was fine when we got here?” Jackson retorts whilst rubbing his eyes of tiredness. You can feel it too...the fatigue. After an 11 hour plane ride, you’re surprised you’d lasted this long without any sleep. But there’s something else your senses are picking up on...fear? Or even anger?

“Let me try my phone” you hesitate as you open the car door, stepping one foot out ever so cautiously. Picking up your phone from the seat, you hold it up in the air in hopes of getting a signal - nothing. No bars at all...weird.

A cold shiver runs down your spine, causing your entire body to cover in goosebumps. Pulling your hoodie over your body more and bringing your arms up to hug yourself, you get back in the car, rolling the window back up. As if by magic, the air turned from a cool summer breeze to a winter snowstorm with an unsettling feeling running around in the air, and you nor your wolf side liked it.

“Do...do you feel that?” You ask

“I don’t know what it is but...yeah i feel something”

“It’s called love dumbass”

“Jackson this is not a time for your sarc...” Ethan trails off suddenly, sticking his nose up in the air and sniffing. “It’s blood...i smell blood”

“What are you...wait, yeah i smell it too” you retort, opening your car door up once again and stepping out “i’m gonna go and follow it, stay here” you say

“Y/N you’re basically our child, it’s YOU who should be staying put, safe” Ethan replies, his hand on your shoulder

“Eth, it’s okay...i can handle myself” you flash your eyes “if i’m not back in 10 then get the hell out of here. Don’t look back.” and with that, you stalk off, following the scent of fresh blood. Using your wolf vision allows you to see more in your path than you would normally, and with your senses heightened due to a completely unfamiliar setting, you know you’ll be okay.

There’s tall brooding trees everywhere around you, but no sight of life of any kind. Running faster and faster you start to gain a stronger track of the scent, seeing a type of clearing ahead of you. Just as you’re about to leap forward, you hear something flying through the air, only you have no idea where it’s coming from. As you stop and stand behind the tree bark, your vision starts to blur and your muscles begin to weaken. You feel this sharp sting in your side, looking down to reveal an arrow sticking out of it. Panic overwhelms you as the thought of dying here in the darkness, in the cold all alone, scares the hell out of you. A hot, single tear drops on your rosy cheek and into the corner of your mouth. You want to scream, to rip someone’s throat out, to run and hide, but you can’t move. The sound of more arrows flying through the darkness surround you, until all you can hear is the same swooshing sound of this death trap.

“Hunters” you moan under your breath, squinting your face in both pain and anger. The blood is oozing out fast, and you’re not healing. You lift your hoodie up to see the damage whilst wincing...and it’s bad. I mean...really bad. If you’re not healing, then it can only mean one thing...

“Oh for fuck sake, wolfsbane?” You growl as blood seeps into your leggings, painting your once grey hoodie now a tie dye of a piercing crimson shade. The pain begins getting worse as beads of sweat drip from your forehead, mixing with your salty tears. Red laser beams strike through the darkness ahead of you, searching for your body. Scrunching up into a ball on the floor, you try to rock yourself to ease the pain, but it’s useless. You’re looking around for any sort of plan, and start to think of Jackson and Ethan, hoping they’ve gone and are out of harms way. ‘If anything ever happens to them i swear to god i will kill anyone and everyone who inflicted harm their way’ you think to yourself, as you tug the arrow out of your body with a heartbreaking cry. So many emotions are crossing your mind right now to the point you don’t know what is right to feel and what is wrong. Killing someone? It feels fucking right at the moment. Especially the son of a bitch who hunted you.

You know you couldn’t howl to alert the others as they would just race towards you, not away. You have no choice but to face the hunters to get to the clearing, to find someone to help, and with that...you get up. It takes all your strength, but you do it, determined to escape alive.

“Cmon Y/N, you got this” you whisper to yourself in a brittle voice, chin trembling from the pain you’re enduring. Your golden circles glow brightly with determination, as you step forward...but as soon as you do, you look down to see a red laser beam pointed directly at your stomach. Luckily your adrenaline instincts kick in as you grab the flying arrow mid-flight before it hits your body. Breaking it into two pieces, you look up, anger and rage boiling inside you. Your fangs rip through your gums as a ground-rumbling growl leaves your throat, cutting through the space around you like a thousand knives. Running towards the clearing, a dozen more arrows fly around your body...some missing...but also some hitting. Taking a few arrows to your chest, back, legs... your vision gets blurrier, fading by the second until you can’t take it anymore, the wolfsbane kicking in a lot quicker than before. Collapsing on the ground of dried leaves and fertile soil, you reach your hand out to the clearing, trying to grasp at it one final time. Gripping a handful of soil in your blood soaked palms, your eyes brim with tears. ‘This is it’ you think, your fear of a painful, cold and lonely death becomes too realistic. The sound of arrows flying from all directions starts fading away as your body slowly starts giving up on you. As you’re about to give up completely, you see a small blurry blob in the distance getting bigger and bigger the closer it comes. The last thing you see is a hand reach towards your body, then pitch black.

You awake with a gasping breath, back shot up straight and eyes wide. The last thing you remembered was being on the brink of death in the woods, yet now you’re in somewhere that looks like a clinic...an animal clinic maybe?

Looking down at your hands, you see dirt and blood still dug in-between your nails...but there’s white bandages wrapped around your arms. Your bare back shrieks in pain as your skin burns underneath, screaming to be ripped apart. The steel table is cold to your touch as you sweep your legs off onto the side, examining your body for injuries - you’re patched up with bandages everywhere instead. As you’re about to get off the table completely, you hear footsteps approaching the room. Quickly, you decide to grab the needle to your right side for defence, only freezing once seeing the figure walk into the room.

It’s a boy, roughly the same age as you, only he seems a lot more muscular, taller and maturer than you. His hair is a dirty blonde, with longer bits at the front that fall in front of his face Leonardo Dicaprio style. His complexion is dashing, with eyes as blue as the sea and chiseled jawline, his nose pretty much perfect and his lips...oh they look succulent. Upon seeing you, he smirks with perfect lips, as his brows raise.

“And what do you think you’re going to do with that?” He asks, his voice deep but attractive. He places the clipboard in his arms down on the counter next to him, bringing a hand to his hip.

“I...you could have been the hunter” you reply, captivated by his features still

“So i try to kill you, patch you up here and then try to kill you again?” His lips part as a chuckle leaves his throat

“You never know.” You snap, pouting your lips as your brows furrow in defeat.

“So...you must be Y/N?’” The boy asks, tilting his head slightly whilst scanning you up and down. You step back suddenly, surprised he knows who you are, as if he’s been expecting you.

“Wait how’d you know that?” You ask, slowly placing the needle in your hand on the table. He steps forward, closing the space between you two slightly

“Well for one, the accent” he points towards your mouth with a single finger, “and second, Lydia never stops talking about the ‘girl who Jackson saved’. It’s pretty obvious.”

“Well you’re acting like i’m not what you expected..”

“Because you’re not.” He smirks whilst getting closer, closing the gap between you two more. You can’t help but stare into his eyes, then look down at his luscious lips and think of what they’d feel like pushing against yours, moving in synchronisation-

“Hey, stop thinking about me” you snap out of your trance, looking up to see him winking at you with that famous grin of his that everyone talks about, granted he is who you’re thinking he is...

“I-i’m not thinking about you” you push him away

“I can smell the attraction on you” he scoffs.

“I take it you’re Theo Raeken, then.” Sighing, you look up at him, crossing your arms across your chest.

“The one and only” he says as he comes closer to you, bringing his face inches away from your own.

You understand what everyone means when they say Theo Raeken is no good - The guy reeks of selfishness and cockiness. He went against Scott and his pack, even killed him at one point and spent a year in hell...if you could see red flags then he’d be drowning in them. But that’s your problem - you go for the bad guys...you always have. Jackson and Ethan knew this already, which is why they knew you’d get along with him when no one else does.

“So what brings you to Beacon Hills, gorgeous?” Theo takes a few small steps forward, which is making you take small steps back until your back hits the wall of the clinic, your frame pressed against the hard surface. Theo raises his hand and presses his palm against the wall, leaving you nowhere to escape...that is...if you wanted to (but hey, being sandwiched between a wall and a really hot - actually insanely hot guy, was not that bad).

“It’s the hunters, we came back to help.” Your eyes glimpse across his face once again, as you bite your bottom lip. You lean on the wall with your feet planted into the floor, keeping you completely still.

“You’re willing to risk your life for complete strangers?” Theo’s face falls in concern, his deep blue eyes squinting slightly in disbelief. ‘What kind of girl would do that?’ He questioned himself, starting to get more intrigued by you each second.

“They’re not strangers, kinda?” You reply, looking away as you try to explain “they’re Jackson and Ethan’s friends, so i trust them.” Scratching your neck, you look back to him. Theo stares at you as if he doesn’t believe what you’re saying. “You don’t need to stare at me like that”

“Like what?” Theo questions

“Like you can’t trust me. Because you can...and anyway who’s to say you’re the one to be trusted? You don’t exactly have the best representation” you retort, earning a scoff from the boy in front of you

“I saved your life; you should be grateful?” He hissed

“Gee, thanks for not killing me like you did with Scott Mccall, you’re my hero.” You say sarcastically, rolling your eyes and shaking your head.

“I do not like your attitude, pretty” theo scoulds, his eyes glowing.

You flash your eyes back at him, growling “i don’t like your loyalties.”

“Yeah well maybe if you went through what i’ve gone through you’d understand”

“You don’t need to pity yourself, Raeken. Some people are just born monsters. Accept it.”

“You don’t even know me!” He’s practically screaming now, with his teeth gritted and fangs shining in the moonlight from the windows above

“I know enough to know you’re a no good, rotten waste of space!” You hiss back, as you go to swipe at him...but he blocks you, gripping your wrist in his hand.

You both stand there facing each other with your fangs dripping and eyes golden, faces inches apart and heavily breathing. You can practically feel his chest on yours, his breath tingling on your cheeks. Staring into each other’s eyes, neither of you move. His hand is still wrapped tightly around your wrist...only after around 10 seconds of staring into each other’s golden orbs, he loosens his grip. He doesn’t let go, just hovers his hand gently over yours. You yank your wrist from his touch and bend under his other arm, which is still palmed to the wall. Walking around the the other side of the table, you focus on controlling yourself...which Theo notices from the corner of his eye.

“You still have trouble controlling yourself, don’t you?..” he begins, only you shut him up by running towards him, shoving your hand over his mouth. Theo’s eyes widen, fearful for your state...but there’s something else in his eyes - sympathy? Suddenly a heart-wrenching pain tears through your side, causing you to kneel over screaming with pain. Still with your hand over Theo’s mouth, he gently places his own over yours as long, black lines start trailing through his skin.

“Wha-what are you-“ you yelp loudly “-you doing?” gritting your teeth and clawing your claws into your palms, he places his other hand over the small of your back. Theo gently moves your hand with his, off of his mouth, so he can talk.

“I’m taking your pain away” he softly speaks, his eyes soft and his touch delicate over your fragile skin. You look up to him with a layer of tears glazed in your eyes, fear hidden deep within your orbs. Theo never looks away when taking your pain. As you start to feel it going away, your eyes soften slightly, guilt clouding your conscience after remembering what you said to Theo. ‘Clearly he’s not what they paint him to be’ you think to yourself.

“You have to care, to take pain away...” your voice is shaky, wobbly. As you bring your legs together, Theo gives you a small smile, as he still holds your hands after taking your pain.

“Of course i care...i can tell you do to” he simply replies, looking down at the ground. His soft, silky hair flops with his gaze, covering part of his forehead. All you want to do is run your fingers through his perfect head of hair, feel it through your fingertips and put your hands on his cheeks...

“But you don’t know me?” You whisper, as you reach forward and place your fingers on the side of his head. He leans into your touch, replying “i just feel like i know you, already”

He brings his hand to yours on his cheek, lacing your fingers in his

“I’m really sorry for...for everything i said earlier” you hiccup quietly “it’s just i thought you were this big bad guy that everyone says you are...” your words trail off as you glance away to the side, thinking of why Theo was being so nice to you “...Hell changed you...didn’t it?” You mention, your voice barely above a whisper. Theo grunts at your words, flinching at the thought of what he went through down there.

“It would change anyone” his eyes welled with tears as he chewed on his lower lip. A sob leaves your lips as you realise what torture he must have gone through, seeing the genuine look of hurt and pain in his expressions. It makes you want to just hug him and never let go...

“...no one’s seen this side to you, have they?” you lift his head up by placing your fingers on his chin. His head is heavy, tears now streaming down his face as memories are recapped in his wracked brain. You bring both hands to wipe away his tears, sobs quietly leaving his mouth.

“No...” he begins, choking up. You pull him into your body, hugging him tightly, rocking sideways in a way of comforting him. He returns the hug, wrapping his arms around you tighter and burying his head in the crook of your neck. You both stay like this for a while, as your hand rubs his back softly and the other hand runs through his hair.

Everyone had no problem telling the bad side of Theo Raeken’s story, but they seemed to have missed out the path of redemption. The path Theo wanted to take, and with your help, he would stick to. For this, you felt anger unlike anything before, for he was a boy who made mistakes. Hell, you’ve made mistakes before...but everyone deserves the right to prove their redemption - to make things right...and Theo Raeken...was never given that opportunity.

Slowly sitting up, he wipes the rest of his face of tears, resting his back against the wall of the clinic. He never expected to meet you, and like you. He’d heard things about you, much like how you heard things about him, but he never saw sympathy as one of your qualities...especially sympathy towards him. You release him from your touch, about to get up, until he grabs your hand back in his.

“Please, don’t leave me Y/N” he begs, his state so fragile and broken. As his soft fingers lace around your own, you obey his wishes and sit back next to him, intertwining your fingers together. He turns towards you, a sweet smile on his face, his red bloodshot eyes tired. You lean your head on his broad shoulder, and just sit with him. He leans his head on your head, his breathing calming. It’s almost like you two are each other’s anchors...but it’s impossible - you don’t know each other...not really?

“Do you believe in people being anchors?” You whisper. Theo adjusts himself closer to your body, instantly creating more heat between you two

“I guess...Liam’s is Hayden. When she left, he really struggled. He still does” he hums. It gets you thinking...you never really had an anchor. You only had Jackson and Ethan telling you this motto “the sun, the moon, the truth” to help control yourself, but most of the time it never worked...

“Wait” you gasp, starting to get fidgety and panic setting in your heart “where are Jackson and Ethan? They were in the car and i left them. I left them, Theo” you turn to him with tears settling in your eyes, your face growing paler through panic. Theo quickly grabs your shoulders to steady yourself, pushing your hair behind your ears, out of your face

“Hey, hey Y/N it’s okay - they’re safe. I got to them, too. They’re with Scott and the others.” He reassures you, rubbing your arms. “It’s okay, breathe. Just breathe, you’re okay”.

“I can’t lose them, they’re all i have” you whimper, Theo strokes your cheek with thumb, pulling you into his chest.

“You have me” he whispers, making you look up at him in adoration. You two had met a couple of hours ago and it already feels like you’ve fallen for him...only he felt the same way. It’s like you two were each other’s soulmate, and that everything feels safe and okay when you’re with each other.

“I feel like...and please don’t think i’m crazy-“ you blurt out, hand on Theo’s chest “-but i feel like you’re my anchor...”

Theo smiles at your words and leans forward, crashing his lips into yours with pure desire and passion. You return the kiss by moving your lips sweetly along with his, hands roaming everywhere on each other’s bodies. Sparks run through your body and burst into fireworks as the kiss deepens. Theo places his hand on the back of your head, pushing you deeper into his lips. Your fingers trace through his hair, tugging at times. Your urge to rip each other’s clothes off increases, as Theo gets slightly aggressive in the kiss, his hands leaving imprints in your skin and biting your lip. Your breath is rigid, wanting more and more. Suddenly, the lights flicker and the sound of a door creaking open breaks the connection between you and Theo, as Jackson and Ethan walk through the door. You and Theo freeze in your position of tops half off, Theo on top of you, his hair an absolute mess and your hair tangled around your neck in sweat

“I knew it!” Jackson cackles, clapping his hands together as Ethan stares at him in annoyance. He reaches into his pocket and places a 10 dollar bill in Jackson’s hand, who smirks and kisses his teeth

“-woah woah you guys BET on this happening?” You gasp, pushing Theo off you enough so you could sit up

“No, we bet that you’d like him...we didn’t bet that you guys would actually click like that” Ethan replies, shrugging.

“Okay i love you guys but...get out.” You scowl, staring at the two men in front of the door

“Y/N we didn’t me-“ Jackson starts

“GET OUT” you flash your eyes, causing the two men to dash out of the room sniggering like two school girls. You flop back on the floor, smirking towards Theo, who climbs back on top of you, about to press his lips to yours once again

“What actually happened he-“ Ethan’s head pops behind the door frame

“GET OUT”

Hope you guys like this! Let me know if you want a part 2 or any other Teen Wolf requests! Xo

#theo raeken #theo raeken x reader #theo raeken imagine #teen wolf #scott mccall x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #cody christian #cody christian imagine

233 notes · View notes

uncrownedqueeen · 4 years

Text

Alone (Dani x Jamie)

Summary: Dani is a yearning gay mess for Jamie (aren’t we all lol). The fic is set in Bly before it all goes to shit.

Warning: SMUT (smut used to be my shtick around here, it has been ages tho and it was all straight, now i wanted to bless the gays, but this sucks, i honestly need to get my hang of this back again) ANYWAY, IF YOU ARE NOT INTO THIS.... just don’t read it mate.

Words: 2,8k

“Are you sure you don’t need me to go with you? If you could wait for just a five minutes, I could go grab my bag and-,”

“I’m positive.” Owen’s interruption struck Dani as a surprise, but as she blinked at him with her eyes wide, she was only met with an assuring smile.

“We’ve done this a plenty of times together, haven’t we?” He checked, hitting the roof of his car to get the kids’ attention as they were playing a tug of war over the new comic issue, which had arrived into their mail box just this morning as a favour from their ever absent uncle.

“Oh, yes indeed. Owen used to take us to the town all the time when Ms Jessel was here,” Flora answered and her smile seemed to falter a little. It was hard to tell whether it was because of the thought of her late babysitter or the fact that Miles won their little fight and was now comfortably seated with the comics opened on his lap.

“I will bring them back in one piece. You needn’t worry. Everything will be alright.” Owen said while putting a box of old children’s clothes into the boot of the car.

Dani shook her head instantly. “No. No. It’s not like that. I know you will take an excellent care of them.” There was not a single ounce of doubt in her body. Since she had arrived here, she got to see how much they all cared for those poor children. “I…. I feel bad putting my work on your shoulders. You don’t need to do this.”

“I know, but I want to,” Owen insisted. “I think we both need this. You’ve been working every day and I…” He didn’t need to say much more than that. It had been only a couple of days since his mother’s funeral, and Dani had noticed how much time he spent around here lately. She didn’t blame him. She knew how suffocating it could feel to be alone in a space you had once used to share with someone so close. It would do him good to have the children around him, forcing his focus onto something else than all those what ifs that must have been undoubtedly occupying his mind.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him in the end, nodding her head just a little, letting him know that she understood. “It will be nice to have a day off for once.”

There was a part of her which felt bad about this. If it wasn’t for the difficult time Owen was just going through, she wouldn’t be able to make her way down towards the greenhouse and spend more than a couple of minutes here and there during the day with her. Dani couldn’t help but feel silly when noticing the excited bounce in her step. Was this how it felt to truly like someone? Was this how Eddie felt when approaching her?

Thankfully enough, she didn’t get to get too deep into this since the sight that appeared in front of her as she entered the greenhouse erased any cohesive thoughts she could have.

“Oh god,” she stammered, her eyes stuck on Jamie’s half-naked figure in the corner.

“Nope. I’m afraid it’s just me,” Jamie chuckled, apparently under no stress that Dani walked in on her while she was changing her clothes. In fact, Dani could swear that there was a smug smirk playing on her lips.

It was only then that she pulled herself together and hurriedly glanced away. “What are you doing?” she exclaimed, carefully examining one of the hanging plants next to her.

“Mining gold, obviously. What does it look like I’m doing?” Dani rolled her eyes at the sarcasm and looked over to Jamie again. “I had to run some errands before coming here so…,” Jamie explained, motioning her hand to her work overalls and the small pile of regular clothes on the side.

“I heard some noise from the driveway. Is everything all right?” She asked, already moving around and setting the things she had just brought to their proper places.

Dani’s eyes followed her every step, she moved with such a confidence and ease. She knew this place and everything inside it like the back of her hand. Dani could spend hours sitting here and watching her do her thing.“Huh?” Dani’s eyebrows shot up when Jamie suddenly stopped in her tracks and sent her a curious look.

“I asked you what’s going on. I heard a car outside,” Jamie tried again and then her voice picked up a rather playful, almost teasing tone. “You seemed to have frozen for a little while. You know, I would have understood this if I was still half-naked but…”

“The kids are gone,” Dani blurted out, smiling a bit. “Hannah asked Owen to take some things to the charity shop in town, and he took Miles and Flora with him. They’re going to stop at the bookstore, get some ice scream.” Her voice was cheerful, and her feet brought her closer to Jamie, who had just got back to putting things in order.

“Oi! That’s sweet. What you gonna do?”

“Well, I came here…” She took a step closer and got in Jamie’s way. If anyone else had tried to do this, especially when her arms were full with the huge bag of the soil conditioner, they would most probably got cussed off. That rule did not apply to Dani though, and they both knew that. “I thought we could talk,” Dani added with a wide, innocent smile which Jamie naturally had to mirror to some extent.

The smile grew as Dani took the bag from her, doing her best not to show the surprise and the struggle with the weight while she put it to the side.

“Where’s Hannah?” Jamie asked to which Dani only shrugged her shoulders.

“Haven’t seen her since breakfast, where she prepared the stuff for Owen to take away. I’m not sure what’s been keeping her so busy lately, but I can barely see her when the kids aren’t around.” It wasn’t clear who made the first move, but soon their hands were locked together, and they were pulling each other close.

“So we are completely alone,” Jamie concluded, already leaning her head to kiss her. It was difficult for them not to smile into the kiss because honestly, it’s been a while ever since either of them has felt even remotely this happy. If someone asked Dani, she wasn’t sure if she ever felt even just a pinch of this excitement. Her heart was pounding so fast it could have easily jumped out of her chest and she couldn’t get enough of the sweet taste of Jamie’s lips.

“You didn’t really come to talk, did ya?” She exposed her amusedly in the middle of the kiss.

“I mean… We can talk! But I just thought…,” her voice seemed to shake not only due to the lack of oxygen.

“How about you just show me instead?” Jamie interrupted her nervous stammering and stole yet another kiss from her.

Dani didn’t reply. How could she when she could already feel herself melt into the kiss? She let go of Jamie’s hands and placed hers on the gentle curves of Jamie’s hips, making her take a few steps back until her back was pressed against one of the glass walls. Their mouths and tongues continued to taste each other, savouring every moment while Dani’s hand crept up Jamie’s side until it got all the way up to her breast. She pulled away just enough to look into the warm brown eyes that were staring up at her. She said nothing, but Jamie read the question in her expression correctly and nodded her head ever so slightly, encouraging Dani to unbutton the buttons on her overalls. A fond smile was playing on her lips as she watched her trembling fingers work. She definitely didn’t make it any easier for her once she leaned her head and traced her lips over the soft skin on Dani’s neck. Feeling Dani’s cold fingers move lightly over her chest sent shivers down her spine. Dani’s pull on the fabric of her clothes made Jamie lose her grip on her behind, and she helped Dani with pulling down the sleeves of her overalls.

The two smiled at each other, their cheeks flushed. Not only due to the excitement but also because of the heat they were both feeling now. Jamie slid her hands under Dani’s sweater before her head leaned back, hitting the windowpane as her eyelids fluttered close. Dani’s hands were keeping a good hold on her waist. Almost as if she was afraid that Jamie was going to go away. There was nothing that could make her do that, though. Never, not even in her craziest dream, she had allowed herself to fantasise about feeling the au pair’s lips on her body the way she got to experience now. Feeling her tongue soothe the small marks Dani left on her skin, an intimate path formed by small nibbles and bruises caused by her sucking on the skin too hard, which curved from the side of her neck all the way to her bra. Her hot breath tickled her, luring a quiet giggle from her chest.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” she was quick to say as Dani looked up to her face and kissed all the other potential excuses away from her lips.

“I haven’t been able to think about much else ever since then,” Dani admitted in a hushed voice, making Jamie’s lips curl up into a smirk.

There was no room for her to come up with any teasing remarks, though, since one of Dani’s hands slid down her stomach and disappeared under her underwear. Her touch was gentle and exploring for a while before it settled on the one particular spot. The gasp which had escaped Jamie’s lungs provided Dani with all the confidence she was possibly lacking. Even with how unexperienced she was in this type of lovemaking; she had never felt nervous or scared.

Everything about this, the sweet scent of another girl’s body right under her nose, the warmth and softness of those curves in her hands, the sound of moans and shaky breaths next to her ear, the heat and wetness around her fingers… It felt good. Great was actually a more accurate way to describe it. Everything about this felt absolutely right. Jamie’s chest was rising heavily as Dani continued to stroke her clit in swift circular motions and she used her hands to cup Dani’s face, bringing her up so she could kiss her and use her to muffle the whimpers she wasn’t able to hold in for much longer. They were making out before, during, and even after the orgasm had taken over her body and made her weak on her feet.

“I was hoping to hear you moan,” Dani confessed against Jamie’s lips when she pulled away a little to catch some breath. Jamie’s eyes opened to catch the sight of her as she felt her hand slip push further in the between her thighs. “We are alone now…,” she reminded.

A moment later, Dani pressed her index and middle finger against her entrance. She kept her eyes locked as she guided them inside. The way Jamie’s expression changed with every small move of her fingers inside her was a magnificent sight for sore eyes. As soon as the two fingers inside her curled slightly, Dani got what she came for.

She would have never guessed that bringing pleasure to someone else could make her own body feel so good. She never wanted for this to stop. Dani had to release her other hand from Jamie’s firm hold so she could push the sporty bra she was wearing down a bit. She closed her lips around her nipple and then flicked her tongue over it just when the fingers she had buried deep inside her picked up their pace. Dani looked up, satisfied to see the blissful frustration in Jamie’s face as she tried her best to bring her over the edge once again.

This time there would be nothing keeping her from vocally expressing herself. All the breathless profanities, moans and Deity’s names coming all at once. Just like Jamie did.

“You’re going to be the death of me, I swear,” Jamie stated once she got her rapid breathing under control.

“Well, I definitely hope you won’t. That would be an awful shame.” Dani smiled, stroking her bright pink cheek.

“Not yet. Don’t worry,” she assured her playfully, her hands settled on her sides. They slid down to her thighs so they could slip under the fabric of her skirt. She pushed against her, nodding her head towards the counter beside to let her know what her plans were.

Considering how open she had been only a couple of minutes ago, it was adorable how flustered Dani suddenly seemed when realising what was going to come next.

“What? Don’t tell me you did not think of this.” Jamie didn’t even try to hide her amusement, but she did attempt to tone it down at least.

“Of course, I did…,” she scoffed and attempted to smooth her skirt, almost as if she didn’t realise that Jamie’s hands were right under it.

“Then you know that there’s not gonna be much of a use for this.” Dani let her hands fall to her sides again and gulped at the feel of her underwear being pulled down. Jamie didn’t let it fall drop to the floor. She helped Dani to get out of it and pushed the thin piece of fabric into one of her pockets.

She didn’t get back up to her eye level, instead she made herself comfortable down on her knees. The hem of Dani’s skirt got promptly lifted to her waist, leaving the lower part of her body fully exposed. Dani could just barely feel Jamie’s lips on her thighs with how light their touch was in the beginning. She kissed every inch of her skin while her hands stroked small circles on the sides of her hips. Her body shivered once Jamie’s tongue paid extra attention to the insides of her thighs and her mouth sucked on the sensitive skin. She had to remind herself to breathe as she moved closer to her core.

What a great disappointment it was when instead of dragging her tongue over her heat, Jamie planted a couple of sweet kisses right above it. The annoyed sigh might have left Dani’s mouth without her realisation, but it did not slip Jamie’s attention, making her smile into Dani’s lap. To get back onto her good side, Jamie traced the wet trail paved by her kisses on Dani’s thigh until finally reaching her wet folds. She glanced up to check on her as she drew her hand over her slit and then pushed her middle finger inside. Her ring finger was soon to follow, this sensation accompanied by the non-stopping shower of kisses near her hipbone.

No one, except the two of them, would get to learn about the love-marks Jamie left on her skin while she moaned above her oh so sweetly. The two fingers kept pressing against her insides in a perfect rhythm, making her entire body feel on fire. Dani’s thighs tried to clench together in a reaction to the approaching orgasm but Jamie managed to keep her in place, choosing this moment, out of all them, to be the right one where she would move her mouth to Dani’s clit. This was the last push she needed to come undone.

Words couldn’t describe how content she was when Jamie’s face stayed right there between her legs, making the bliss last even longer. Dani brushed the dark hair away from her delicate face before opening her legs wider and bashfully, trying to guide Jamie’s head to move in the way she wanted. Jamie was more than happy to oblige, enjoying the cute moans Dani was making while she was eating her out. It was too easy to get herself lost in the pleasure, and her hips seemed to grind against Jamie automatically. However, her mind was in way too much of a haze for her to be embarrassed and worry that this was not the way how she was raised to behave. There were only two things she could focus on.

Ultimate, indescribable joy and Jamie. Her eyes remained stuck on her, even as her fingers curled and her breath got stuck in her throat, even as Jamie looked up at her and their eyes met. She got to see her while she cleaned her up, peppered her inner thighs and her lap with sweet, caring kisses before standing up, her face all flushed but smiling from ear to ear.

“Got anything else you want to talk about, Poppins?”

#dani x jamie #jamie x dani #bly manor #the haunting of bly manor #dani x jamie fic #jamie x dani fic #danie #danie fic #is this the ship name for them?#i honestly don't know

53 notes · View notes

the-hilda-librarians-wife · 4 years

Text

Silver Lining

Summary: My sketchbook twist on what happened in the episode The Storm while Johanna was alone in her car. You know, technically, it could have happened...

Inspired by something I said in this rewatch post

Notes: Okay so originally this was going to be something very different with lots of obliviousness and mutual pining, but then it hit me that outside of the angsty hell that is The Mistakes We Made, I have no established relationship fics??? Time to fix that. Also I wanted to jump into the “librarian and Johanna were secretly dating during season 1” bandwagon before season 2 comes along and crushes our dreams.

Read it on ao3

The art supply store had been deserted, presumably because of the storm raging outside, which seemed to only get worse by the minute. Uneasy over the weather, Johanna’s shopping was quick, and she only bought what was absolutely essential, even though she promised herself to come back some other time.

She couldn’t fathom what was happening that day. Even in the height of winter, it never snowed like that in Trolberg, not as far as she remembered. It could be one of those freaky effects of global warming, she supposed, but it still was weird that it had happened so suddenly.

Returning home was not an option. The roads were completely blocked by heaps of pristine snow, and she’d certainly catch her death if she attempted the walk back, thus why she’d called Hilda. She’d wanted to tell her why she wouldn’t be returning home so soon, but knowing her daughter as she did, she also found it wise to warn her not to leave the house. Just in case she had any grand ideas.

After putting down the phone, she looked around only to realize that the stores were all closing, turning off their lights and closing their curtains. Johanna could see where they were coming from, seeing as no customer would face this storm for things like art supplies or doughnuts, but she had hoped at least one of them would be available for her to stay inside and make use of the heating. Seeing no other option, though, she returned to her car.

Her cellphone had no signal, and she was sure that that, too, was due to the weather. The supplies she’d bought weren’t enough for her to get ahead on her work, or even to doodle, so she was stuck with people-watching to pass her time. Everyone she saw looked like they were hurrying somewhere, and Johanna silently wished good luck to each of them, even though she knew that they would only be able to go so far before being forced to find somewhere to stay immediately.

None of the anxious faces she saw evoked more than a brief memory from her, either people who frequented her favorite cafe at the same time as her, or perhaps people she’d helped during her time working at the hardware store. Until one did.

Johanna recognized her colours before her face, because even though she was looking down at the ground, stepping carefully on the snowy street, her black clothes and purple hair always gave her away. She was curled in on herself, apparently clutching something to her belly to protect it from the snow.

Her house wasn’t nearby, Johanna knew this. The only reason she was outside at all was because of the weekly coven meeting that the witches of Trolberg did every Sunday morning. She must have been caught abruptly by the storm when she was already on her way.

Feeling icy wind on her face as she opened the car’s door, Johanna waved her hand in the air and tried to shout to get her attention.

“Maven!” Though she knew the woman to get lost in thought while she walked, Maven heard her right away, and a look of recognition overtook her face when she glanced at the yellow car. “Come here, you’ll freeze to death!”

There was barely a second of deliberation before the librarian crossed the street and headed for the passenger seat. When she opened the door, Johanna was already sitting down again, and she helped herself inside the car.

“Thank you, Anna.” She said, incredibly relieved that Johanna had been there in the exact moment she’d needed her. “You just saved me.”

The smile Johanna gave her stole her breath, making her feel warmer in spite of the freezing cold she’d just come out of. She always had that power of making the room feel like it was filled with a light so strong that it seeped all the way into Maven’s heart, and it was one of those things Maven knew she’d never tire of.

“Well, I’m glad to be of help. How was the meeting?”

Maven shrugged, opening her coat’s zipper to get rid of the icy garment.

“It was alright. Harvesting season is coming closer and we are planning on blessing the crops nearby.” She said, throwing the coat on the backseats. “Heavens know they’ll need it with this storm. The elders also warned me that they’ll be coming to the library this week with a group of children who showed gifts to the occult arts. You know, to teach them about the path. So I guess that will be interesting.”

The most intriguing topic on the reunion had been, by far, the concern over a group of kids who had caused a commotion in the cemetery. One member of their coven had recently made contact with a ghost, only to find it unwilling to help her ‘because of the human children of their town that had been disrespecting their eternal slumber’. Maven had to admit that she’d had to make an effort not to laugh when their spirit worker told this story, but unless she had a death wish, she should not let Johanna in on this. It wasn’t lying, she told herself. It was simply not snitching on Hilda. Besides, since Johanna wasn’t a witch, Maven shouldn’t even be telling her any of that to begin with.

“What about you?” She asked, trying to shake the ghosts away from her mind. “What are you doing out here in this storm?”

“Oh, I came for art supplies.” Johanna pointed at the shopping bag on the backseat. “Wasn’t quite this bad when I left home. I wonder what on earth brought on this crazy weather.”

“Oh, weather spirits undoubtedly.” Maven said as she took off her gloves, rubbing her hands together for warmth.

“Weather spirits?”

“Yes, I can sense they’re the ones behind this. Besides, the coven has been observing some very unusual weather spirit activity in town. We could be here for a while.”

Looking worriedly at the sky, Johanna only noticed that Maven was offering her something when she all but shoved it under her nose. She blinked, picking a cupcake up on her hands. It was still warm and exhaled a sweet apple scent, with cinnamon and sugar sprinkled on top of it.

Maven’s left hand was inside a paper bag, which Johanna assumed was what she’d been trying to protect from the snow when she’d been outside. After taking another cupcake, she folded the bag closed.

“One of the witches made too many cupcakes and brought them to give us. Very convenient to have them right now.”

“Oh, that smells lovely.” Johanna said. “Are you sure you don’t want to take it home for yourself? I’m not going to starve if I have to wait a few more hours to eat.”

Maven smiled right before taking a bite of her own cupcake, shaking her head fondly in exasperation.

“I’m your girlfriend, Johanna.” She said when she finished chewing. “If I don’t feed you, who will?”

Johanna rolled her eyes playfully as she brought the cake to her lips, humming in satisfaction at the sweet taste. Along with seeing Hilda happy and with new friends, her newfound relationship with Maven was what made her be thankful every day that they’d moved back to Trolberg.

“So, these weather spirits.” Johanna began while each of them focused on their sweet. “Any idea of why they went haywire?”

“Hard to tell, really. They’ll pick fights with each other over anything, but for a storm this strong it has got to be an enormous gathering of them. I honestly don’t know what could have caused this, but one of the elders specifies in weather magic. Maybe he knows, I’ll ask him about it when he goes to the library with the initiates.”

Frowning, Johanna felt herself getting more worried.

“So there’s no way to know when this will stop.”

“I’m afraid not.” Noticing her girlfriend’s unease, Maven tried to catch her gaze, but Johanna seemed to look everywhere but at her. “Anna? Are you okay?”

“I’m just a little worried about Hilda.” She answered. “She’s alone at home with Alfur. I told her to stay put, but even so… she’s just a kid, and if anything happens, she has no way to talk to me.”

“Hey.” Maven put a hand on Johanna’s shoulder, trying to ground her to the moment and not leave her to imagine every bad scenario she could. “I know I don’t know her like you do, but from what you’ve told me she’s a smart and brave little girl. She’ll be fine. If you want to worry about anything, I’d suggest worrying about us at the moment. We’re due to become icicles any minute now.”

Johanna chuckled, grateful for Maven being with her in that moment. She always seemed to know what to say to make her feel better.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She sighed, relaxing the weight of her body against the seat and taking one more bite. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw that Maven had taken a pen out of her pocket and was now scribbling something on the paper bag the cupcakes had been on.

“I’m not kidding, if this storm gets any worse I don’t know if the car’s heating will keep up.” She said when Johanna shot her a questioning look. “I don’t have many sigils memorized, but luckily Ruth packed a heat one with the cupcakes. I’ll just activate a few and we should be fine.”

Indeed, on top of her tight there was a small paper square with a doodle in it, which Maven had already copied three times on the bag, and was now doing a fourth one. If Johanna saw that symbol and no one told her of its meaning, she’d wave it off as some sort of stylized drawing of a spider, or perhaps of a flame from a certain point of view, so she was glad to be with someone who knew better.

After finishing the drawings, she put the pen aside and began to carefully rip the sigils from each other. When she had the four pieces of paper, she pressed the first one against her window and recited some words that Johanna couldn’t recognize. Listening to witch language always felt singular to Johanna, like even though she’d never learned it, something deep inside her felt awake when she heard it, like it was in her blood. She’d asked Maven about it once, receiving the answer that this wasn’t an unusual feeling. The language of witches is the language of the Earth, which we’re all part of, she’d said. Johanna couldn’t say in all honesty that she’d understood, but it had seemed to make sense to her girlfriend so she hadn’t pressed any further.

When she removed her hand from the glass, the paper had disappeared, and only the symbol remained on the window, shining with orange light as if it was on fire. Then, it vanished leaving no trace on the window.

Johanna continued to stare at where the sigil had been while Maven maneuvered herself to the back of the car to repeat the process with the back windows. Magic never failed to leave her astonished.

It registered on the back of her mind that the car was indeed getting warmer, especially when the librarian activated the third sigil on the window behind Johanna’s seat. After Maven had done that too, Johanna felt her put her elbow on her seat, near her neck, leaning the other against the passenger seat. She was kneeling on the car’s floor, practically by Johanna’s side in the gap between the two front seats. The look she was wearing immediately gave away to Johanna that she wanted to talk about something.

“Anna, I wanted to ask you…” She began, proving her right. “When do you think it will be okay to tell her about us?”

“Her?” Johanna frowned.

“Hilda, I mean. Obviously I’ll understand if you want to keep our relationship just between ourselves for some time. But what do you think she’ll think of me?”

Johanna opened a smile and leaned towards Maven, kissing her cheek. When she retreated, she had to bite back a giggle at how flustered her girlfriend looked.

“Hilda will love you.” Johanna answered honestly. She’d admittedly thought about how Hilda and Maven’s relationship would be, and she was afraid, just not the way one would expect. Her fear was that they’d get along a little too much and Johanna would have to run after them every other day, trying to stop them from getting killed at the hands of a magical creature they’d attempted to befriend or a spirit they’d summoned. Though it was possible that there would be some unease between them at the beginning, the thought that they wouldn’t see eye to eye didn’t even sound possible to Johanna.

“The only reason I haven’t told her yet is because she seems to have a lot on her mind right now. Some trouble with her friends, I think, but she won’t tell me yet. But it’s a conversation I want to have with her as soon as she’s alright again.”

Maven looked away from Johanna, now feeling silly for having asked. It wasn’t like her to be insecure like that, but this truly mattered to her. Whether Hilda approved of her or not would be decisive for how far she and Johanna would be able to take their relationship. Besides, if Johanna told her daughter about them, then that would mean that she took their relationship seriously, so she couldn’t help but care about it.

At least Johanna hadn’t taken it the wrong way, her pursed smile as she put a stray lock of Maven’s hair behind her ear telling her that her girlfriend was probably very amused. She could practically hear Johanna calling her ‘adorable’, stopping herself from doing so only because she knew how Maven didn’t like being called cute.

“I’m… very happy to hear you think so. And I hope whatever is troubling Hilda gets solved soon.”

“I do too. Are you done with your sigils already?”

Between her fingers, she was still holding one last piece of paper, and she flickered her wrist so that it was in front of Johanna’s eyes.

“There’s one more, but I’ll need your help this time.”

“How so- oh.” Before Johanna had time to wonder in what way she could possibly help Maven with magic, her girlfriend had already deposited herself in her lap.

Johanna wasn’t one to blush often, but she was certain the heat on her cheeks was not because of the sigils.

“Just keep this up. I only need to activate this one near your corner of the car.”

Maven then pressed her palm with the sigil to the window, repeating the incantation. This time Johanna was distracted by more than just the magic, in a way that she barely noticed it when the casting was finished and the car was filled by cozy warmth.

“That’s good.” Maven said, approving her own work. “I can go to my seat now, if you want me to.”

Realizing that she’d abstractedly put her arms around Maven’s waist, interlacing her fingers near her side, Johanna shrugged and then caught Maven by surprise by learning in to kiss her lips sweetly. It would have been a very romantic cenario, snug with her love while snow piled outside, if only they weren’t there because they were trapped inside a car due to a mysterious storm. Still, she was with Maven and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere, dearest.”

_#_#_#_

Maven did go back to her seat eventually, but it was only because Johanna remembered a deck of cards that she kept in the glove compartment and after some time they decided to play something. It didn’t take long at all for the librarian to realize that she was pretty bad at that, but seeing Johanna’s childlike joy every time she won a match, she couldn’t even be annoyed.

Safe and sound inside the car, the storm hadn’t really been on the forefront of their minds. The magic kept them comfortable and the flow of people running from the weather outside was all but nonexistent at that point. But they did realize when the few rays of sunshine that made it through the thick layers of clouds became stronger.

Both of them put their cards down, the change so noticeable that they wanted to get a good look at what had happened. While Maven only lowered her window and stuck her head out, Johanna stepped out of the car to look at the sky.

“At last!” Johanna sighed with relief as the clouds became smaller, making a gap just above them.

From her side of the car, Maven was more interested in another thing she’d noticed than in the changing weather. Either her eyes deceived her, or a thunderbird was flying away at that very moment. What it had been doing in the middle of that tempest was anyone’s guess.

However, they were soon startled by the booming sound of thunder, and watched in stunned silence as one of the remaining clouds seemed to swell unnaturally, darkening at each moment that passed. Johanna closed the door by her side just in time to not get hit by the first drops of water.

They were static while they watched the rain pour down, not believing in the situation even though it was happening right in front of their eyes. Stunned by the abrupt turns, a laugh escaped Johanna’s lips, and soon the absurd picture that she made, laughing like a madwoman while monstrous rain surrounded them made Maven break into giggles as well.

“Well dearest, I think we’re going to be here for even longer.” She said after she had gathered herself enough to form a coherent sentence.

Picking up her girlfriend’s cards as well as her own, she began shuffling them together.

“In that case, I would like a revenge match.”

“Alright, but I warn you that you’ll regret it.”

Huffing in feigned outrage, Maven began distributing their cards, and the ones that were left she put to the side.

“In the end I’m glad, you know.” Johanna said after they began their match, making the librarian frown at her. “For the storm. If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t even see you today, let alone spend some time with you.”

“Me too, Anna.” Maven smiled. “Me too.”

#fic: silver lining #my fic #sketchbook ship #sketchbook ship hilda #sketchbook ship fanfic #the hilda librarian fanfic #hilda johanna fanfic

13 notes · View notes

budzdorovanatasha · 5 years

Text

Award Shows

**NO reblogging to non-sickfic/kink blogs.

“Baby, you don’t have to go,” you suggest, knowing she has to. Scarlett sends you a look.

“We both know that I have to be there. And so do you.”

Scarlett sighs and blows her nose one last time. She has the absolute worst cold, and you’re pretty sure she has a fever.

“To the car,” she announces, standing up from her makeup chair. You stand from yours and take one final look in the mirror.

“You look amazing, babe,” Scarlett murmurs, rubbing your arm.

“As do you,” you answer, sending her a soft smile. You take hold of her hand as you and your team make your way to the elevator and get inside. It’s a tight squeeze, and you remove your hand from Scarlett’s and pull her close by the waist instead. You feel her breath hitching before you hear it. It’s two seconds before she’s bending over, leaning towards you and away from the others to sneeze.

“Heh-h’h..huptchoo! Hetschooo!”

“Bless you,” you murmur, rubbing her back. Several others offer a blessing, and Scarlett straightens, sniffling through a ‘Thank you.’

She gives a quiet sigh, stepping even closer to you. When she’s this sick, Scarlett needs to be protected, and looked after. She just needs you to take care of her, and that’s what you were going to do.

It’s a quick ride over to the venue, and the second you both exit the car, your fans are screaming both of your names. You offer dazzling smiles to the crowds as they cheer. You grab Scarlett’s hand and gently lead her towards the cameras. The faster you two get through the carpet, the better.

“I forgot my tissues in the car,” Scarlett said to you.

“The team has got some,” you reply. “And I’ve got a few in my pocket.”

“Thank you,” she breathes, relieved. You press a quick kiss to her cheek. Your jumpsuit had pockets, thankfully, allowing you to bring tissues for your girlfriend.

“Ready?” You ask. She nods, letting out a few light coughs. Scarlett shivers, despite the warm air, and you can practically feel the heat radiating from her body. Her fever was probably climbing, and you knew you were in for a long night.

The red carpet goes by fairly smoothly, save for some sneezes from Scarlett and a slight trip from you. You both part ways for a moment, doing separate interviews.

“How was yours?” You ask, joining up with her again.

“Okay. Did a shot. How about you?” Scarlett answers. You frown at the hoarseness in her voice.

“Your voice is already going, baby... I did a shot too.”

“Scarlett! Y/N!” Brie Larson shouts. You both turn in her direction and hurry over to her. She gives both of you warm hugs, despite Scarlett’s warnings of how sick she is.

“I can’t believe it’s been so long since I’ve seen you both! What after party are - oh, bless you!” Brie speaks. You also bless your girlfriend, who had just turned around with lightning speed to stifle a triple.

“Sorry, thank you,” Scarlett replies, straightening back up. You both inform her you probably won’t be attending any after parties, which she understands. She bids you goodbye and you pull Scarlett towards the doors. She’s sniffling every other second, and you know she needs a tissue.

“Here,” you offer, pulling a tissue from your pocket. She takes it and steps closer to you, letting you shield her from others as she gives her nose a thorough blow.

“Better?” You murmur sympathetically after she’s done. She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose, her sinuses throbbing. After a moment she gives a nod.

“All I want to do right now is be home cuddling with you,” Scarlett whispers.

“I know, baby.”

Scarlett looks around for a trash can to throw away the tissue, but there is none near you. You move to grab the tissue from her.

“No, this is disgusting.”

“Baby, I’ll wash my hands in the bathroom after I throw it away in there. Come on,” you whisper, grabbing it from her hand and putting it back in your pocket. She blushes a deep red, but you shake your head at her. You both make your way inside, stopping to chat with a few people. There’s of course a line once you reach the bathroom. Scarlett stands close to you, her hands around you. You pull her closer, waiting patiently.

“Not again,” you hear her mutter after a minute. She reaches a hand up to rub her nose, though that seems to have the opposite effect of what she wanted, because frustration flickers on her face. It only lasts for a moment though, because it’s replaced by her usual, adorable, pre-sneeze face. Her lips part just slightly, and her eyes become unfocused.

“H’h-hheh.. hdnngx! Heh- hupshoo!” The second sneeze in the double comes out strong, and Scarlett is left wiping a hand under her nose, sniffling softly. You tighten your grip on her, knowing she’s already going to apologize for sneezing on your dress.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers as she straightens.

“Bless you. Don’t worry about it.”

She sniffles and buries her face in the crook of your neck, slightly embarrassed. But she doesn’t have any time to think about it really, because you’re soon next in line and both heading to separate stalls. You hear her stifle another sneeze and sigh. After finishing your business, you throw away the used tissue and wash your hands, then wait for your fiancée to join you.

You then head to your seats, in the front row of course. Scarlett hates that, and it’s obvious to you. You press gentle presses to her hand as you take your seats. Scarlett sniffles and sneezes her way through the awards, but manages to only blow her nose twice.

And then you’re climbing into the limo, just the two of you, and Scarlett let’s all walls come down. She immediately cups her hands over her mouth and nose, and you watch as she waits for the next set of sneezes. It’s like her nose has been waiting for Scarlett to have her guard down, because she’s hitching for a good fifteen seconds before she gets any sort of release. And when she finally gets it, she’s letting out four strong sneezes.

“H’hetschoo! H’h..hupshooo! Hetshioo!.. Heh.. h’tschoo!” Scarlett accepts the tissues you immediately hand to her, and blows her nose several times before sighing and leaning back into you.

“Bless you, baby. I think you needed that after holding back all night.”

You feel her nod against you, and you press a kiss to her temple.

“My nose feels like it’s on fire,” she groans. “I still feel like I have to sneeze.”

“It’s just us. Sneeze as many times as you’d like.”

“I wouldn’t like to at h’heh.. all.. hhetcshoo!”

“Bless. Here,” you murmur, offering her more tissues. She gives a gentle blow, her nose starting to become raw. She leans back against you once more once she’s finished, and you listen as her breathing eventually evens out. It’s a longer drive on the way back since you’re both heading home. Scarlett makes little stuffy sounds each time she breathes, and you smile, happy she’s at least fallen asleep.

You eventually have to wake her as you pull up outside your house.

“Baby, we’re home,” you whisper, gently rubbing her thigh. She sniffles thickly and nods, still half asleep. You help her out of the car and into the house, having her sit while you take off her shoes. You lead her into your room upstairs and help her out of her dress. You gently push her towards the bathroom so that she can take off her makeup and wash her face. She does so quickly and then you lead her to the bed.

“Goodnight my love,” you murmur, brushing your lips to her forehead.

“Where are you going?” she pouts.

“To get ready for bed. But you’ll be asleep before I get back,” you chuckle. She grips you for a moment, before letting you go with a sigh.

“Hurry back.”

**NO reblogging to non-sickfic/kink blogs.

#scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson #my fic #sickfic #snzfic #whump #mcusnz #mcu cast #avengers cast

106 notes · View notes

mesmeret · 4 years

Text

KPW 2.0 Day 2: Cat Daddy Hux and Juggalo Kylo

Day 2: Opposites Attract! "Boring" Cat Daddy Hux has a crush on his Juggalo neighbor Kylo. Kylo also has a crush on him. Cussing and lemons

Hux’s heart flipped hearing the loud engine of his crush coming up the block. He had no shame being picked up by his neighbor in front of his office building. Strangers and coworkers turn towards the blasting “Funyuns and Condoms”. The brakes screech and the passenger door unlocks. Hux bites his lip so his grin masks as a smirk while he gets into the decade old white Ford F-150 with peeling black and red flame decals.

He buckles in before looking over at Kylo, “Hey.”

“How’s the overlords?” Kylo is glaring at traffic with a pale white base with black lightning bolts painted all over his face. Hux’s stomach flips at how a few go down Kylo’s neck and get muddled with his neck tattoos. Kylo’s lips are bright red with black lip liner.

Hux knows to talk over Kylo’s cussing and singing along with his CDs, “Fucking awful. Brooks stole my work again. The cronies didn’t bat an eye seeing my watermarks. Thanks for that idea, by the way. Fuck, I am quitting next week. Not giving them any opportunity to fire me.”

“Fuck yeah!” Kylo honked his horn and grinned as the cars around them honked back. “They don’t deserve you!”

Hux felt his face heat up. This was one of the reasons he fell hard for Kylo. The man made him feel valuable.

“So what’s next for m-Mister Hot Shot?” Kylo stuttered as they pulled onto the highway.

“I don’t know. Maybe take a week off before looking for jobs?” Hux shrugged.

“Yeah? Cool,” Kylo gets into the fast lane and looks over at Hux. His voice low, “Gonna let your hair down and go wild?”

Hux managed not to gasp, instead he made a choked off nervous laugh, “Me? I was thinking of checking out the summer art exhibits before they go away.”

Kylo pounds his steering wheel, “Dude! You’re killing me! You can do that any time!”

“No, the exhibits are leaving at the end of July,” Hux feigns sulking to get more of a rise out of Kylo.

“M-Sorry, you fucker!” Kylo caught himself from saying Hux’s second least favorite curse word. “I’m worried about you. Those soul suckers have got you whipped. You should, like, I dunno… spend time with me and the guys that week!”

Hux’s toes would curl in his italian loafers if the narrow shoes would let them. He sighed, “Fine. I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right!” Kylo puffed up his chest and belted out the lyrics for the next song on the Bang! Pow! Boom! Album. Hux at least remembered the album name. Kylo also surprised him last week remembering the company names of Hux’s favorite porcelain cat figurines. He stared out at the passing traffic. Maybe he could do something to get Kylo to call him Cat Daddy again? Millie hated the ribbons but if he could bribe her…

A few minutes of traffic later, they pull off the highway and quickly get into their neighborhood. Kylo looks over at him a couple of times before speaking, “Hey, would you like to rehearse your resignation?”

Hux sat up in his seat, “Huh? Yeah, that would help. When did you have in mind?”

Kylo stuttered, “I-uh, got some things to do but I can swing by in, uh, an hour?”

Hux nodded, “Sure. I’ll get Millie settled in with her din-din.”

“Cool!” Kylo yelled and went silent with wide eyes. Hux frowned a little but got distracted with Kylo’s arm bracing the back of his seat as Kylo pulled the truck into reverse to parallel park. Hux knew the tattoos were crude and chunky. But their canvas gave them far more allure. Hux didn’t have time to give into the temptation of nuzzling Kylo’s biceps because the man was an impressive parker.

They parted ways and Kylo stomped up to his apartment in his oversized jeans and baggy t-shirt. The clothes made him look absurdly giant. Hux loved it. Once he got into his apartment, he went straight to the kitchen to prepare Millicent’s meal as she mrrp’d her way around his feet. He hummed along with her as he mashed up some wet food with her kibble. He set the bowl down and gave Millicent her privacy as he headed into his bedroom. He took off his dress shirt and slacks. He stared at his closet drawing a blank. What would Kylo like him in? Kylo hardly comments on his clothes. Hux sighed grabbing a white t-shirt and gray lounge pants. Why was he so boring? He flushed at the thought of getting Kylo to give him a makeover. He’d look absolutely ridiculous but Kylo would have his hands all over him.

Hux went into the living room and tidied up the little messes from the past few days. Millicent watched him from her cat tree with her tail swaying to and fro. He came over to kiss the top of her head. She scrunched her eyes and shook her head. He snorted, “I know, so embarrassing. But you’re so cute!”

She squinted at him as he scritched behind her ear. Long orange hairs started to shed. He looked at his watch and decided he could start brushing her coat before Kylo came over. He scooped up Millicent and she gave a chirp seeing him grab the brush kit. He was blessed having a cat who enjoyed grooming. He got most of her back done when there was a knock on the door. Millicent darted to the cat tree as Hux dumped the cat hair in the kitchen trash. He answered the door and was startled to see an unsettling version of Kylo.

Kylo looked normal. He was without his makeup in a black polo and khakis. His hair was tied in a bun. Hux felt sad seeing Kylo’s septum piercing flipped up and hidden. Kylo’s skin was splotchy and textured due to his Kryolan paint stick routine. Hux felt oddly reassured that Kylo wasn’t too perfect. Hux has seen him shirtless with his face painted up and spent many a night stroking to the visuals.

“I-um, thought we could role play?” Kylo shrugged.

Hux blushed realizing he had just stood there staring, “Oh! Wow, you really didn’t need to change. I liked the lightning today. A lot.”

Kylo muttered under his breath, “Fucking dumbass.”

Hux froze, “Excuse me?”

Kylo looked more shocked than Hux felt, “Me! I meant me! I’m the fucking dumbass!”

Hux shook his head, “No you aren’t, come on in.”

Kylo frowned but followed Hux to the couch. Hux’s heart fluttered as Kylo sat next to him, “What’s going on, Kylo?”

Kylo looked at him with a shy glance before looking ahead, “I thought you’d like me more like this? I thought if we roleplayed you quitting your job, we’d-” Kylo takes a deep sigh, “I thought we’d then like makeout or something ‘cuz the past couple of months have been crazy, y’know?”

Hux gulped and tentatively placed his hand over Kylo’s white knuckled fist, “I think you’re hot. But as you usually dress and stuff. This is very different but I see my Kylo. Though...”

Kylo goes cross eyed as Hux flips his septum piercing and bursts into deep laughter, “What the fuck! You’re freaky, Hux!”

Hux blushed, “I guess? Do you like it?”

Kylo’s voice cracked before going bone deep, “Uh, yeah. It’s really fucking hot… babe.”

Hux whined as his body went numb with arousal, “Could we… do something else than role play quitting my job?”

Kylo moaned, “Like what?”

Hux got up to straddle Kylo’s lap. Kylo’s eyes widened and his hands hovered before gripping Hux’s hips. Hux whispers while tugging on Kylo’s polo shirt, “Wanna see your chest again.”

Kylo gave a little nod and pulled off the polo. Hux moaned at the sight of the loosened bun, defined muscles, and garish tattoos. His fingers traced thick lines that trembled. Kylo whined and bucked up. Hux gasped as he slid further into Kylo’s lap and had to brace himself against Kylo’s chest. Kylo grunted, “Permission to kiss?”

Hux gave a nod before kissing Kylo. He sighed at how nice Kylo’s lip and tongue piercings felt. He gave a tentative roll of his hips and Kylo seized with a yelp. Hux hummed in delight feeling the pulse of Kylo’s dick against his. Kylo pulled away from the kiss with a dazed look, “Fuck, I didn’t bring condoms.”

Hux bit his lip, “I’m good with not rushing things. I really do like you. And, ah, would like to fuck when you’re all done up.”

Hux now knows that when Kylo’s eyes widen slightly, his cheeks go bright red. This revelation makes Hux kiss Kylo deeply. Kylo gives a confused sound but goes with the kiss. Hux pulls away when he finally needs air. After catching his breath, he whispers, “I can’t believe you like me.”

Kylo scoffs, “I can’t believe you like me. You of all people.”

Hux whines, “Hush, of course I like you. You’re like my best friend and crush.”

Kylo whimpers squeezing Hux’s ass, “I’m your what?”

“My crush-Ah!” Hux arches his back as Kylo rips his lounge pants. Hux shivers as fingers press through the tear to bare skin. “Nngh! Fuck, tear them more.”

Kylo does so looking up at Hux with a growl. Hux grunts as his cock drops down from the torn confines onto Kylo’s palm. It’s an awkward hand job but feels great. Hux’s mind whites out as Kylo leans up to suck on his neck. The other hand reaches over to press two fingers against Hux’s ass. Hux screeches as the fingers rub frantically with the fist around his cock. He goes limp as his cock twitches.

Kylo mouths his neck lightly before flipping them over. Hux whines as Kylo pulls away to take off his cum stained khakis. Kylo also didn’t bother with underwear and strokes himself while looking down at Hux. Hux studies Kylo’s cock and is a little bummed there’s no piercings visible. Kylo straddles him and moans as his cock head bumps against Hux’s small paunch. Hux blushes deeply once he realizes Kylo is writing his name on Hux’s belly. Hux whispers, “I’d get it tattooed there. Or a tramp stamp.”

Kylo’s eyes bulge and his breathing goes haggard, “Fuck, really?”

Hux bit his lip nodding. Kylo grunted as he came all over Hux’s belly. Hux kissed him softly, “Seriously. Maybe you could help me with the aftercare?”

Kylo snorted and shook his head, “Nah, that’s like ten year anniversary shit.”

“Oh, I guess you’ll just have to cum your name on me until then,” Hux feigned disappointment. “Maybe get me a collar or belt?”

Kylo chuckled, “Fucking freak.”

Hux smirked, “You have no idea.”

#kylux #kylux positivity week #day two #juggalo kylo ren #cat daddy Armitage Hux #millicent the cat #lemon

17 notes · View notes

shireness-says · 5 years

Text

A Sparking Attraction

Summary: Emma just wanted a nice, relaxing weekend. Who knew her car trouble would be the ticket into her hot's neighbor's pants? Rated E for smut. ~3.7K. Also on AO3.

A/N: Inspired by my recent car trouble. Unfortunately, Emma’s the only one with a hot neighbor to come to her rescue. Thanks as always to @snidgetsafan for her beta-ing!

Tagging the usual suspects: @kmomof4, @teamhook, @profdanglaisstuff, @scientificapricot, @thisonesatellite, @thejollyroger-writer, @optomisticgirl, @snowbellewells, @ohmightydevviepuu, @let-it-raines, @winterbaby89

Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

~~~~~

“Goddamn, motherfucking, piece of fucking shit —”

This was, to say the least, not the morning Emma had hoped to have. It was a rare weekend off from the station, and as much as Emma usually loved her job as a Storybrooke Sheriff’s Deputy, a couple days off were much needed after a week where it seemed like the entire town had been out to irritate her personally. Leroy and his brothers had gotten into yet another screaming match, Ella Cruller wouldn’t lock up her dogs again, Victor Whale had been drunk and belligerent at the Rabbit Hole on a goddamn Tuesday night the list went on and on. Emma needs some ice cream and a grilled cheese and probably a stiff drink, and above all to hermit at her apartment and not re-emerge until she’s back to work Monday afternoon.

Unfortunately, to achieve those pathetically small dreams, Emma has to go to the store. And unfortunately, since Emma has things to do, her fucking car won’t start. Probably the battery. Of course.

She shouldn’t be surprised, really; it’s not like the Bug is some pristine new machine that’s in perfect working order. She loves that stupid thing, but it’s old, and old cars have problems. The only minor miracle is that hers is a new enough model to have the battery properly in the rear compartment instead of under her back seat. Of course, she doesn’t have one of those handy cordless battery jumpers David is always on her to buy; no, that would be too simple. She’d meant to buy one for a while, but they’re fucking expensive and what were the chances she’d need it anyways?

Famous last words, obviously.

“Fucking traitor,” she mutters again, scowling at the exposed engine where she’s propped the back hatch up and kicking lightly at one of her tires. Ok, not so lightly, but the car deserves it, even if her toes don’t.

She’s just about to start up with another string of profanity in order to avoid trying to actually fix the problem when a voice calls from behind her - directly behind her, in fact. “Car trouble, lass?” Even if the soft accent and tone of voice aren’t alarming, the proximity is, and Emma claps a hand over her chest above where her heart is spasming. Apparently, she hadn’t noticed his approach in her focus on cursing at the little car.

“Fuck almighty, you scared the shit out of me,” she accuses, whirling around to meet the eyes of her neighbor. It’s Killian Jones, of course; if the accent wasn’t a dead giveaway, her current streak of luck would dictate it anyways. Because of course her effortlessly hot neighbor who Emma definitely doesn’t have anything resembling a crush on, no sir, no way, would show up now when she’s ratty-looking and irritable. At least she showered this morning; it’s a scant blessing.

At least he has the decency to look a little sheepish. Serves him right, after the scare he gave her. “Apologies, love. I heard a commotion, looked out my window to see your hood popped open, and thought I’d come offer my assistance.” He pauses for a bare second before picking up again, not even enough time for Emma to start responding. “Though really, is it still called the hood if it’s at the back of the car?”

Emma just stares for a moment. “Seriously?”

“You’re right, doesn’t matter,” he concedes. “Do you need any help? I can’t say I’m good at car repair, but I’m decent at taking directions.”

“It’s fine,” Emma replies. “Not my first rodeo with changing the battery in this car. Call me an old pro or something. Don’t worry about me.”

Not that it stops him, a concerned little wrinkle set stubbornly in his forehead. “Well, you’re going to need a new one, right?”

“I mean, yeah.”

“Can I drive you to the auto parts shop, at least?”

Emma pauses at the offer. Honestly, she’d planned to call David; technically, he’s working, but she thinks with some finagling this could fall under the “public assistance” bit of his job description. Emma is always hesitant to accept help if she doesn’t have to - call it an unfortunate remnant of a shitty childhood - but Killian is here, and he is offering. Even if Emma doesn’t want to accept his help on principle, she knows he won’t judge her for taking it or think she’s weak. She may not know her neighbor that well, but he’s never been anything but polite and chivalrous, if a bit flirtatious at times.

(Maybe one day she’ll take him up on that flirting; for now, at least, she can take him up on that offer of a ride.)

She must have been thinking for longer than she thought, because Killian looks like he’s about to withdraw the offer in embarrassment. He’s a stutterer when he’s nervous, Emma’s noticed; not that she’s had much cause to, but in a town this size, it’s impossible not to catch folks in some kind of embarrassment eventually, and she’s seen him with his brother.

“You know what? Sure, a ride would be great,” she agrees. The way Killian’s shoulders drop in a small show of relief makes her more confident in her choice, especially when he smiles at her in what she almost might call delight. “Let me get the old battery out first, it goes easier when I can just drop the old one on the counter and ask to swap it. Can you grab my toolbox out of the trunk?”

“Of course, Swan.”

With Killian’s help - ok, more like “supervision” - the car surgery goes quickly. Emma’s only had to do this once before, but muscle memory is a powerful thing, and it’s easy enough to detach the battery once she knows what other pieces need to be carefully extracted and set aside to get at her goal in the limited space of the Volkswagen. It’s easy, too, to get a new battery when the owner of the auto parts store is one of Leroy’s brothers who she’d had to deal with earlier in the week - just one pointed glare on Emma’s part, and the little whiny man had quickly gone to get her replacement without any long lectures about how to reinstall it or how some people just don’t take good care of their vehicles.

“If I didn’t say it before, thanks for doing this,” Emma says quietly as Killian drives them both back to their apartment complex in his little SUV. He’s a careful driver, she’s discovered, navigating them smoothly around corners and executing gentle stops. It speaks well of him, she thinks, that he’s gentle in even this most mundane of activities.

“It’s not a problem, love,” he smiles. “I promise. Truthfully, watching you work on the car is all to my benefit.” The statement sits in the air for a moment before he continues. “Oh, now that sounds sketchy, doesn’t it?”

Emma laughs. “I mean, I think I know what you mean, but yeah, probably not the best choice of words.” It’s been interesting, watching him bounce back and forth in the months they’ve been acquainted between a suave flirt and this more bashful version of himself.

Honestly, it’s pretty cute too.

“I just mean…” He tries again, pauses. “It was impressive. Watching a woman perform her own car repair. Attractive.” He groans. “God, just let me put my foot even further into my mouth.”

“No, no it’s okay,” Emma assures him. “I… thanks, I guess.” It’s flattering, really - especially since she’s been ogling him from down the hall for months now.

“You’re welcome.” They sit in silence. “So, shall we talk about literally anything else now? Let’s do that. Please.”

Knowing what he admitted, though, it’s hard not to put on a little bit of a show when Emma re-installs the new battery. Maybe she lets her shirt ride up, and maybe she leans a little more exaggeratedly over the rear compartment as she works. So what? She’s a woman with needs like any other, and any desire to spend the rest of her weekend alone has melted as she spent her morning with Jones.

When the repairs are finally done, Emma slams the hatch back shut and turns to face Killian, whose eyes skate up and down her figure as she slides her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. She knows the posture accentuates her breasts and pushes her hips forward into something that almost might be a sway or a swagger; she’s counting on it, in fact.

“Thanks again for the help,” she tells him, dropping her voice to a more sultry register. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I don’t know about that,” he replies, before slipping into an attitude to match Emma’s own. “If you feel that way, though… well, who am I to argue. Perhaps a… token of appreciation is in order?” He even taps at his lips, the saucy cheeky bastard.

(She’s so going to fuck that.)

Emma can give as good as she gets, though, both in banter and in other, more private things. “Funnily enough, that’s what the thank you was for.” Even as the words leave her mouth, Emma sways further into Killian’s space, proving them to be just a facade.

“Is that all your precious Bug is worth to you?” Killian is close enough that Emma can feel the warmth of his breath wash across her face. She could just tilt her head up the smallest bit and claim his lips…

So she does. There’s absolutely no reason why she shouldn’t, especially since she’s felt this sizzling something simmering beneath her skin, a scorching heat she’s seen reflected in Killian’s eyes, ever since the moment they first ran into each other in the hallway five months ago. He’s just as good a kisser as she imagined, though the way their lips meet is nearly feral in its intensity. He, too, gives just as good as he gets, each thrust of Emma’s tongue met with a parry of his own, all accentuated by a forceful tug to bring her hips into contact with his own. God, it’s good.

Frankly, Emma would be happy to keep at it right here in the parking lot, let their clothes drop into the backseat of the Bug and figure out the logistics of sex in the world’s most cramped car, but there’s the matter of neighbors and passers-by and public indecency. “Inside,” she manages to gasp just as Killian squeezes her ass. Lord only knows how she manages to keep her train of thought after that. “We gotta go inside. Now.” She even pushes him away and towards the door in emphasis.

“Your place or mine?” Killian trots after her as Emma sets a determined pace, still managing to reach the door in time to hold it open for her. Stupid gentleman, they don’t have time for that.

Vague memories of dirty laundry on the floor decide for Emma. “Yours,” she tosses back to him. If this is going to be more than a one time thing, she doesn’t want his first impression of her place to be an utter disaster. They live mere doors apart anyways; it’s not like there’s one apartment obviously closer than the other.

The elevator ride to the third floor seems to take forever, but it’s still better than taking the stairs - even if they have to stay in opposite corners to keep from jumping each other in the little box. It’s funny; normally, the enforced distance would cool the fire raging in her blood and knock Emma to her senses, but it only leaves her imagining all the things she wants to do with Killian, to Killian when they finally make it behind locked doors. She wants him, and there’s no denying it.

At least he has the presence of mind to spend the elevator ride locating his apartment keys; once they reach his door, it’s the work of a moment to slip inside. Killian immediately cages Emma against the wall next to the door, trapping both her hands above her head as he attacks her mouth and neck with his lips.

“Been thinking about this for a long while, Swan,” he murmurs against her neck as he finishes sucking what will be a very impressive hickey into her skin. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

“Oh yeah?” She gasps back. “Me too.” He can take that any way he likes; she means it, regardless.

Abruptly, Killian lets go of her hands only to hoist her into the air. Emma’s legs twine around his hipson instinct, but she’s got other, more important things to worry about - namely, kissing the living daylights out of Killian and the way his toned stomach rubs against her center as he walks them to the bedroom.

She squeals as he tosses her lightly onto the bed, Emma’s body bouncing on impact. Emma scoots up the bed to watch as Killian begins to undress, whipping his t-shirt over his head and starting to reach for his shoes before he notices her staring.

“Are you planning to strip, love?” He asks with an arch of his eyebrow. The hunger is evident in his eyes and in the tenting of his pants, which only makes Emma want to tease him.

“Nah, I think I’m just going to watch.”

“Now, that’s not fair,” Killian whines, halting his own disrobing to crawl over Emma’s body again. “I’ve shown you mine, and here you are, still all wrapped up.”

“I mean, technically, all I’ve seen is your chest. It’s nice, but…” Emma trails her hand down the hair and flesh of his abdomen until she hits denim, twisting her hand to squeeze his erection. “It’s not really what I want to see.”

“You make a good point, love.” His voice catches in his throat in restrained pleasure; Emma kind of loves it. “Now, what do you say that I show you some more of what you’re looking for, and you take care of some of your pesky layers?”

To borrow the kind of words he’d use: she’s amenable to that plan.

He’s got a great dick, really, once she’s down to her bra and underwear and he’s bare in front of her. It’s large without being impractically massive and bobs proudly and eagerly towards his stomach. He obviously knows he’s worth looking at, if his confident stance is any indication. God, Emma can’t wait.

“Let me help you with that, darling,” he purrs, moving back into Emma’s space to reach behind her and unclasp her bra. Thank god her most comfortable bra also happens to be her most flattering, and passably pretty at that. Not that it matters when the garment is already on the floor and Killian’s fingers have ducked beneath the elastic of her underwear to draw them slowly down.

“Like what you see?” She asks coyly as the cotton hits the ground. She already knows her answer if the way Killian peruses her naked form with wide eyes is any indication.

“Only a fool wouldn’t,” Killian comments, “and darling, I’m no fool. I must say, though, I’m a little less interested in looking than in touching.”

“Then you’d better get over here.”

This time, when Emma falls back on the bed, pulling Killian with her, she intends to stay there.

Killian grinds his cock against her core, the most glorious sensation after all this banter and buildup. Skin-on-skin feels good, satisfying, though not quite enough to satisfy her craving. There’s only one thing that will do that, she knows, and as much as she wants the slick burn of his body within hers, this friction just feels too good to stop. It’s hard to push away the man who’s rubbing against her clit just right.

Finally, though, her craving is too strong to deny. “Condom?” She asks, pushing lightly at Killian’s shoulders to capture his attention.

“Aye,” he pants, a little breathless in his arousal. “Side table.” He doesn’t take the direct path, however, doesn’t just roll off her and reach for the drawer; he detours instead to her breasts to graze his teeth along a nipple and make Emma shudder in pleasure.

She allows herself to get distracted by his attentions for a moment; it’s been a long while since a little boob play has felt this good. Maybe it’s his own skill; maybe she’s already so aroused from everything else that it’s heightened the sensations. Truthfully, it doesn’t matter as long as he keeps making her moan. There’s greater pleasure to be found, however, and with that in mind, Emma makes herself pull Killian away from her chest with a tug on his thick, dark hair. Killian pouts at the interruption - god, what an adorable idiot - but she’s insistent. Plus, she’s got something even more pleasurable in mind.

“Seriously, Jones. Condom. Sex. Now.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Killian mutters as he finally shifts off Emma to open the drawer and extract a little foil packet. Before he can move to do anything about it, she plucks the condom out of his hand and pushes at Killian until he lays back on the mattress so she can straddle him.

“So you want to be on top, hmm?” He asks her breathlessly as Emma rolls the latex down his length. As she pumps him with her hand, making sure everything’s snug, he moans. “I suppose it’s a good thing I like a woman in charge.”

“I suppose it is,” Emma replies, rising up to situate his cock at her entrance, “because you’re about to get one.” And with that, she gradually sinks down on him, feeling the burn as he stretches her inner walls.

For all her talk, this part always takes a moment to adjust to, with little rocking motions and shallow thrusts of Emma’s hips until she settles into that perfect angle of penetration. Beneath her, Killian’s eyes are blown wide and dark with lust, and his hands grip at her hipbones.

“You’ve got to move,” he gasps. “For the love of God, you’ve got to move.”

Emma clenches around him, eliciting another moan, before heeding his plea. There’s no reason a woman in charge can’t be a little bit merciful - for both their sakes. The angle is so damn good, especially when she adds a little twist of her hips on each downward thrust. Maybe it’s just because this unspoken thing has been sitting between them for months, but Emma can already feel her pleasure building.

“Want to help a girl out?” She pants as she increases the pace, chasing for the orgasm she can sense just out of reach. When Killian doesn’t immediately move - by the looks of things, too distracted in watching where her body envelops his own - Emma forcibly grabs his hand from where it had been stroking the flesh of her hip and drags it just above where they meet. He can figure it out from there, if he’s half as clever as he acts.

Sure enough, when he gets with the program, tendrils of sensation start chasing down Emma’s legs all the way to her toes. “You like that, love?” He asks breathlessly.

“Fuck yeah. Just like that,” she gasps out. “Fuck.”

“You’re so gorgeous like this,” Killian prattles on beneath her. Emma truthfully doesn’t pay much attention; the way the curl of his accent sets her blood pounding is more important than anything he has to say. Still, he continues. Maybe he knows she’s not listening, maybe he doesn’t; in the end, does it matter? “Come for me, love, I know you want to.”

And with his thumb on her clit and his cock throbbing within her, she does, flying into a flurry of sensation and bliss.

She’s barely come down from her high before Killian flips their positions, sliding out of her heat for the barest of moments before he thrusts back inside. He’s still hard within her, obviously not having found the same release she has. Emma moans as his cock strokes along her inner walls. “You feel so good around me, so tight, darling,” he croons as he sets a steady pace with the snap of his hips. “Do you think you’ve got another one in you? Do you think you can come for me again?”

Emma doesn’t know for certain, but she’s certainly willing to find out.

It turns out, Killian’s a talker in bed when he’s the one holding the reins - little endearments and dirty talk Emma wonders if he’s even aware of saying. She can tell his orgasm is close when the words stop altogether, replaced by little grunts as he works above her, arms braced by her sides and head bowed over her chest.

He comes with a deep groan just as the tingle of her own release starts to build again; Emma could almost curse in frustration, even if she did already climax earlier. Killian must sense that frustration as he hurriedly drops his hand back between her legs as soon as he’s finished, rubbing furiously at her clit. He pulls out as his cock begins to soften, only to plunge two fingers within her fluttering core instead to thrust and stroke instead. It’s not the same, but it’s enough, and Emma soars over that peak one more time with a mighty exhale of what might almost be Killian’s name.

“God, that was good,” Emma gasps as she comes back to herself again. Faintly, she’s aware of Killian taking care of the used condom, though she can’t bring herself to care about the details. “Good job team, or… something.”

Killian chuckles as he shifts back to curl around her. “You know, you might even say I gave you a jolt,” he teases.

“Oh, that was awful,” Emma groans, even as she wiggles deeper into his embrace. “Promise me you’ll never say that again, please.”

“I make no promises,” Killian laughs back. “This wit won’t be contained.”

Emma can work with that. After all, she’s she’s currently making several plans that involve him this weekend - and they'll be sure to make sparks fly for as long as their batteries hold out.

#Captain Swan #cs ff #cs smut #my writing #A Sparking Attraction #it's just smut y'all

114 notes · View notes

mrs-berry · 5 years

Text

Concert

By mrs_berry

Read on AO3!

Part 1 of ML Love Square Fluff Week 2020

@lovesquarefluffweek

Summary: Marinette is given two concert tickets for Jagged Stone’s concert, but who will she end up taking with her?

Word Count: 1598

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jagged Stone was the best. Not only had he commissioned Marinette again, but on top of paying her for her creative services, he gave her two free VIP tickets to his concert!

So, of course, the first thing she did was squeal and freak out about it to Tikki.

The next thing she did was invite Alya to go with her.

The third thing she did was demote Alya from best friend, because Alya had turned down her invitation (how dare she!) due to “prior engagements.”

Which Marinette knew was a load of bologna.

The truth was Alya was being Alya. She was being her devious, cunning, sneaky self and plotting something.

It became even more obvious when literally everyone she asked had given her some bullshit excuse about being unable to make it. Seriously, who would turn down a free VIP Jagged Stone concert ticket?!

No one, that’s who!

After asking everyone she was good friends with and receiving more excuses than the ones she constantly gave out as Ladybug, she was down to her last resort.

Well, maybe not her last resort. Because that would be Lila. With Chloé being a close second last, of course.

Finally, after much persuasion and reassurance (and downright peer pressure), Marinette asked her crush to attend the concert with her.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, he gave a resounding yes and proceeded to smother her with gratitude and excitement. (Though how he happened to have a free schedule and gain permission to attend was a real mystery—one that will never be revealed.)

Suddenly, Marinette couldn’t remember why she had been reluctant to ask him in the first place. He was as big a fan of Jagged Stone as she was, for goodness sake!

“Okay, so my bodyguard will pick you up at 6 o'clock?”

Oh yeah. She was going to spend several hours of her evening with him. Alone. With only her foot to shove in her mouth if she became an awkward stuttering hot mess around him.

Great.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, after school, Marinette tried to count her blessings and good luck as Alya did her hair and makeup while Marinette tried to re-teach herself the French language.

“Sit still, girl, or I might burn you with the curling iron,” Alya scolded, as Marinette was currently fidgeting in attempt to soothe her nerves. Smirking, she added, “We wouldn’t want Adrien to think you got a hickey from someone other than him, hm?”

“Ack-Alya!” Marinette choked in exasperation at her friend’s teasing. It was certainly not helping with her already fried nerves.

Alya proceeded to give her a pep talk— pointing out why Marinette was amazing, reminding her to be her friendly self, and reassuring her that Adrien was as scary as a cute golden retriever puppy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Marinette appreciated her best friend’s words, it turned out whatever advice and encouragement she had received had conveniently drained out of her mind. Only panicked and anxious thoughts remained as Adrien greeted her before leading her to the car and opening the door for her.

“T-thanks,” she managed to squeak out as she practically tripped and fell onto the car seat.

Mercifully, Adrien either didn’t notice her disastrous clumsiness or respectfully decided to ignore it in order to spare her feelings or dignity (if she even had any left—at this point it was up for debate).

In the car, they sat in semi-awkward silence for about three seconds before Adrien requested that his bodyguard put the music back on.

To her surprise (though maybe she should not have been surprised, considering their destination), Jagged Stone’s music flowed through the speakers.

Almost inexplicably, Marinette felt her body relax. The tenseness in her shoulder dissipated. A smile spread across her lips. And before she could consciously stop herself, she was humming along to one of her favourite songs.

Adrien took notice of this, of course, and felt greatly relieved. He always worried over Marinette, especially when she became all stiff and weird around him—as if she was afraid of him or perhaps disliked his company. He always bottled up those anxious thoughts and chalked it up to being paranoid, but maybe one day he would broach the subject. Today was not the day, though, as he was determined to keep a happy and fun mood.

With an adoring smile on his lips, he began humming along with her.

Marinette sputtered, looking at him as if she just realized he was there.

Biting her lip, she gave a shy smile, before starting to hum again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The concert was the best; deafening rock music boomed through their chests and rattled their hearts as they stood near the stage. Lights flashed, glow sticks waved, fists pumped, and the audience screamed and danced to powerful guitar chords and lyrics.

Marinette and Adrien were in close proximity to each other, often finding themselves pressed up against one another as bustling bodies moved to the music.

Marinette could feel the heat radiating from Adrien (and other people, but they did not matter) and felt like fainting from happiness and utter bliss.

Adrien experienced similar feelings, though perhaps not from the same reasons as his short friend.

Marinette and Adrien sang to their heart’s content at the top of their lungs as they enjoyed every vibration, every chord, every lyric, and every moment of this concert.

(Marinette also enjoyed every second of contact with Adrien.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the concert had ended, the duo made their way over to the VIP section of the concert, where they would be able to meet their idol.

Voices raspy and ears ringing, Marinette and Adrien found themselves gushing excitedly over the best concert of their lives, while they waited in line to meet Jagged.

The moment Jagged Stone spotted Marinette, he excitedly waved his arms at her.

Marinette beamed and greeted him enthusiastically.

“Marinette! It’s mighty rock ‘n’ roll that you could make it out here t'night!” he exclaimed enthusiastically.

Marinette went to give him a handshake, but he opted for a bone-crushing hug instead.

Flushed, but happy, she continued beaming as he released her from his vice grip.

“And who’s this, hmm? Oh, wait, you look familiar,” he observed, scratching his beard. “Is this yer boyfriend? Well, I definitely approve, seems like a nice lad for ya!”

Marinette went from beaming to red lobster in milliseconds.

“Agrestien—Adrigeste—ugh—Adrien Agreste is not—he is my friend!” she vehemently denied, struggling to make sensical words form from her lips. “And fan! A huge fan! Of yours, I mean! Not me. Not my fan.”

Marinette facepalmed at her own inability to be an articulate human being around her friend.

Adrien smiled sheepishly, possibly too star struck to have noticed the spazzy mess that stood beside him.

“Riiiight then,” Jagged drawled in a tone that clearly didn’t believe her denial for a second. “Would you like a hug as well? Or perhaps a handshake? Maybe a signed CD?”

Adrien wordlessly nodded rapidly. It seems Marinette was not the only inarticulate one at the moment.

Jagged beamed and swept the tall blond model into a bone-crushing hug identical to the one he had given Marinette.

Afterwards, Jagged took the CD that had mysteriously appeared in Adrien’s hand and signed it—signing it right next to Marinette’s signature.

He also signed Marinette’s Jagged Stone concert shirt, since she had not brought a CD along with her and said she didn’t need a free CD since she already owned all his albums.

By the end of their meeting, Adrien was pretty sure he would melt into a happy and fulfilled puddle at any moment.

Marinette felt the same way, but for slightly different reasons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Gorilla drove the two teenagers home.

Both of them switched between speaking animatedly about their night and daydreaming about how surreal the whole event had been.

Once they reached the bakery, Adrien walked Marinette to the door, while his bodyguard waited for him in the car.

“Thank you so much for inviting me tonight,” he spoke quietly with complete sincerity. “It was the most fun I’ve ever had. I don’t know how, but I’ll definitely make it up to you, I promise.”

Marinette’s heart lurched at him feeling like he owed her. He was too sweet and he certainly didn’t owe her a thing.

“Oh, no, you don't—please don’t feel like you owe me anything! The tickets were free and I am so glad you were able to come!” Somehow, her strong feelings on the subject made her more coherent than she had been all night. Perhaps knowing he had so much fun had also dashed away some of her insecurities. “Honestly, I am really glad it was you who came with me and not anyone else. I had a blast. So, really, it should be me thanking you.”

Adrien was touched by her kindness and she could see it in his expression.

Looking into his soft eyes, she mustered what courage she had and tip-toed to give him a peck on the cheek.

He smiled brilliantly in response, a tinge of red seeping into his cheeks, but the darkness of the night and shadows hid it well.

“Goodnight, Marinette,” he said softly.

Turning around, he went back to his car, opened the door and got in. Closing the door, he gave her one last tender look (which she couldn’t see in the darkness) before his car took off into the night.

Marinette was confident no concert would ever top that one.

(Unless a certain blond boy came along with her again.)

#lovesquarefluffweek #lovesquarefluffweek2020 #ml love square fluff week 2020 #ml love square fluff week #adrinette #adrienette #concert #day 1 concert #miraculous ladybug #ml fic #ml fanfic #fluff #humor

28 notes · View notes

fanfictionaries · 4 years

Text

Where the Green Grass Grows - Part 2. All My Exes Live in Texas

Summary: After leaving town in 2001, Marianne Grace Barnes swore she’d never step foot in Texas again. She was happy with her life in San Francisco. She had great friends, a great job, and a loving boyfriend. But when her mother insists she come home after six long years away, Marianne comes face to face with someone she vowed to never lay eyes on again. Now the questions arise: Is he so different from the man who broke her heart? Is she so different from the girl she used to be?

And most importantly, is she as happy as she really thinks she is?

A story of love, heartache, and that special feeling of being home.

MASTERLIST

Prompt: Sweet Home Alabama (2002)

Pairing: AU Cowboy!Steve Rogers x OFC

Warnings: NA this chapter I think? ANGST!

Author’s note: It’s easier if you imagine everyone with a southern accent except for Marianne (Pronounced Mary Anne) who has a slight southern accent but’s lost it’s strength over the years. Also, how sexy is it to imagine Sam, Bucky, and Steve with southern accents?!?!?

My goal is to upload two parts a week for this series! Please bear with me, schools starts back up next week! xoxo

***

“Married?!”

“Mama—”

“You’re getting married?! And I had to find out through the paper like some stranger?”

“Mama, please. I said I was sorry—” Marianne tried to apologize once again but was drowned out by the hysterical cries of her mother through the phone.

“Marianne Grace Barnes, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but you will wait till I am good and finished talking before you interrupt me,” scolded Winifred Barnes.

“Yes ma’am,” grumbled Marianne, cursing every member of the staff at the San Francisco Chronicle.

***

It seems as though San Francisco’s most eligible bachelor, Tony Stark (32) is officially off the market amidst the announcement of his engagement to a Marianne Barnes (24). Mr. Stark, heir to the Stark fortune and founder of Stark industry met Ms. Barnes, middle school art teacher, a short ten months ago at an art show for the now celebrated artist Aldrich Killian. Sources say the pair hit it off almost immediately, and this can be confirmed by the fact that Barnes was rumored to be living with Stark in his sprawling San Francisco townhouse a mere two months after meeting. Since then, the two have been inseparable. Barnes and Stark have been spotted together at multiple Stark Industry events and frequenting many of San Francisco’s hottest spots. No matter the location, however, it is clear that the pair are deeply enamored with each other.

No details have been released on the exact date and location of the wedding, but our sources say they plan to marry soon in anticipation of the expected merger between Stark Industries and Pym Technology. Needless to say, we at the San Francisco Chronicle expect the event to be as lavish and opulent as the man, Tony Stark, himself.

***

Truthfully, she had no idea that they would do a piece on her and Tony’s engagement, although in hindsight it didn’t really surprise her. He was one of the most wealthy and successful men in California, why wouldn’t they? However, what really surprised her was that her parents were subscribed to the newspaper. Why they felt the need to keep up with the going-ons of San Francisco life from all the way in Texas, she had no clue.

“You know there’s this nifty little invention called a telephone missy and I know you have one of those fancy cellular phones with you all the time. And don’t for a second say that you called but we didn’t answer, because we even have an answering machine now. James went and got us one for Christmas so that we could stop ‘accidentally’ missing all those ‘calls’ you’ve been making—” Her mother’s tone was accusing and rightfully so. It was true. Marianne had a nasty habit of not calling home and lying about it later, but she had found over the years that things were easier when she spent less time thinking about home. Unfortunately, she did not know about the answering machine and now she had nothing to say for herself. “And to think we spent 18 years feeding you and raising you and giving you everything we could just for you to go and get engaged to a man we’ve never even heard of, let alone met!”

“Tony and I were talking about flying you, daddy, and Bucky down a week or so before the wedding, so you could spend some time with me and Tony. You know, get to know him and all,” said Marianne sheepishly, suddenly feeling so dumb she could throw herself on the ground and miss.

“A week?! Honey, I know you don’t think we’re gonna’ wait a week before the wedding to meet this man. You realize he never even asked your daddy for his blessing? He’s none too pleased about it neither. The man’s got a bur in his saddle so large you could see it from Houston.

“Mama, I’m not property. Tony doesn’t need daddy’s—”

“Nuh uh, you zip it right now missy. At the end of the day, it’s the principle Marianne Grace. Now, we wanna’ meet this man. Soon,” said Winifred so sternly Marianne could just envision her pacing the kitchen in a rage.

“Okay, I’m sure we would be more than happy to fly you all over whenever you like,” stated Marianne, standing and looking over to where Tony was fully engrossed in his work at his expansive glass dining room table. She tried to catch his eye, but he had yet to unglue his eyes from the screen of his laptop and the stacks of paper around him. Marianne was halfway to him when her mother’s words stopped her in her tracks.

“Your daddy can’t get a day off from the ranch any time soon since Sam Wilson fell off the barn roof and broke his arm; and Bucky’s busy with his practice and helping to fill in for Sam.”

Marianne swallowed thickly, “So what do you want to do?”

“You two will come here,” her mother stated flatly.

“Mama, I don’t think that’s a good—”

“No arguing with me Marianne,” interrupted Winifred before continuing in a softer tone. “You haven’t been back home in almost six years. It’ll do you some good to come home and spend some quality time with your family. We miss you honey.”

“I miss you too mama, but there’s absolutely no way Tony and I can make it down to Texas before the wedding.”

***

The air was hot and muggy in the small plane as they sat docked on the tarmac at Austin-Bergstrom International Airport. They’d been sitting there waiting for an open terminal for nearly an hour, but it felt like four. Marianne was ready to open the emergency exit herself and face homeland security if it meant getting a breath of air that wasn’t shared with a hundred other people. Therefore, she was in no way ready to hear the news that Natasha had for her when she turned her cellphone back on.

“What do you mean Montecito fell through?!” exclaimed, smiling sheepishly to be the people around her in apology before turning towards the window and lowering her voice. “Please telling me you’re joking Nat. I really can’t handle any bad news right now.”

“I wish I were Mari, but unfortunately it wouldn’t matter if Tony had more money than God. There’s no way you two are finding a decent venue in California until at least next summer,” said Nat, only adding to Marianne’s stress level. She ran a hand through her brown curls, already feeling them begin to grow and frizz in the dry Texas climate. Yet, another reason to hate it there.

“Are you sure? Did you try Fairmont?” Marianne asked in desperation.

“Sweetie, I’ve tried Fairmont, The Langham Huntington, Montecito, Sherwood, Oak Mountain…you name it; I’ve called and been told no. Are you sure you guys can’t put off the wedding till next year?”

“No, Tony is dead set on having the wedding in June and seeing as it’s April, well…” Marianne trailed off, unsure of how even to end that sentence. Two months. Tony had given her two months to plan this wedding and she was scrambling. She felt the plane lurch forward as it began a slow crawl across the asphalt. The overhead intercom crackled before announcing they would be departing the plane in ten minutes. The plane erupted into a smattering of applause that seemed to rouse a sleeping child as a high-pitched cry sounded soon after.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were knocked up,” laughed Natasha, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

“At this point, a pregnancy would be the least of my worries,” sighed Marianne, leaning back in her seat and plugging her free ear with her finger. As the plane continued to move towards its gate, the space filled with the sound of passengers gathering their things and chatting excited.

“Where are you? It sounds like a carnival on your end.”

Marianne laughed bitterly, “A carnival would be more fun. Unfortunately, I’m currently stuck on the world’s most uncomfortable airplane.”

“An airplane? Where could you possibly be going right now?! We have a wedding to plan in less than two months!” exclaimed Natasha in exasperation.

“It’s less where I’m going and more where I am, actually.”

“Okay, well then please, enlighten me. Where are you?”

“I’m in Texas,” confessed Marianne, unbuckling her seatbelt and standing as the plane door finally opened and the deboarding process began.

“Oh no…”

“Oh yes.”

Two hours later and Marianne was convinced that her luck couldn’t get any worse. As if Texas itself was punishing her for six long years away, the airline lost her luggage indefinitely and her taxi driver got lost, twice, before they finally pulled up to her parents’ home in Georgetown, Texas. The farmhouse was small; built in the 1800s as a place of residence for the ranch foreman, it still held its original purpose. White with baby blue shutters and a large wrap around porch, Marianne had many memories of sitting on the porch swing and watching the time inch by. Stepping out of the air-conditioned sanctuary of the cab, the full force of southern heat hit her square in the face. Before she could even turn to close the car door behind her, her mother’s excited cries floated through the air. The screen door squeaked and groaned as the greying woman heaved it open and ran towards her daughter with open arms.

“My baby is finally home! Hallelujah!” cried Winifred, engulfing her daughter in a tight hug. Winifred Barnes, standing a few good inches shorter than her daughter, hugged her with surprising force. Years of helping out on the farm left her figure lean and muscular, while years of good ol’ southern cooking left her with a pair of hips that still made most of the men in town turn their head when she passed by. Of course, none of that was new to Winifred. In her day, the woman had been the bell of the ball in Texas society. A former debutant and pageant queen, she had the pick of any wealthy Texan she came across, but when it all came down to it, she had chosen George Barnes – a lowly ranch hand with no prospects outside of roping, riding, and herding cattle.

“Hi mama, it’s good to see you,” said Marianne, feeling her heart clench slightly as she hugged her mother tightly. She was surprised to see some grey in the blonde, pin straight hair Marianne had always envied growing up. The lines at the corner of her mother’s eyes and mouth made her wonder for a moment if she truly had been gone for too long.

“Do you need help with your things?” Winifred asked, looking between Marianne and the taxi driver who was currently making no move to get out and help her daughter with her luggage.

“Oh! Hold on—” Marianne leaned back into the taxi and dug into her purse before pulling out cash for the driver “—Sorry. Thank you so much.”

With that she exited the cab, purse, and small carry-on in hand, slamming the car door behind her. The cab took off with a cloud of dust that sent Marianne and her mother into a small fit of coughs.

“They lost my luggage. I’m supposed to be hearing from them some time in the next few days, but they told me not to get my hopes up. Apparently, my bags never even made it on the plane,” Marianne told her mother.

“Oh dear. I hope they find them; it’d be a shame for you to lose all those fancy clothes—" her mother took a moment to take in Marianne’s outfit, an outfit Tony had bought her for her birthday actually. She thought the black pencil skirt, white Calvin Klein button up and thick chunky belt cinched at her waist was a cute ensemble, but judging from the way her mother appraised her, perhaps she was wrong “—we’ve still got all of your old clothes. I’m sure they’ll fit you. If anything, they’ll be too big! You are so skinny; do they not eat in California?”

“Yes, they eat plenty mama. Don’t worry. Now, where’s daddy?”

“Well he should be coming in soon. He found a section of fence down up past the crick, so he took the boys up with him to fix it,” said Winifred, looking out into the distant pasture.

“I thought Sam broke his arm.”

“He did, but the damn fool still insists on helping where he can. Couldn’t get him off that horse if I tried and the good Lord knows I have. Still, your daddy won’t let him do much. Till then Steven and your brother are putting in extra work to fill in the gaps.”

Just the utterance of his name was enough to throw Marianne for a loop, “I didn’t know Steve worked here now.”

“Oh, he doesn’t dear. He’s just helping out. He’s still over at—oh there they are!” exclaimed Winifred, pointing out in the far distance where the silhouette of four men on horse back could be seen against the setting sun.

They should have been indiscriminate from each other from that far of a distance, but Marianne knew without a doubt which one of the men was Steven Rogers. Larger and thicker than the rest of the men, he held a certain grace in the saddle that most professional riders lacked, but Marianne would know anywhere. As they got closer, approaching at a well-paced canter, she couldn’t help but keep her gaze trained on the man in question. The one person she was least excited to see upon coming home. It was no secret how she felt about him. Everyone knew her disdain for the man ran deep, however he was unavoidable given he was her brother’s best friend. Spitefully, she imagined that after all this time he would have gotten fat or perhaps lost all his hair – anything to cut back the enormous ego he possessed. Yet, as they approached it was to her dismay that the exact opposite was true. Not only was he not fat and bald, but he was probably more muscular than he’d been the last time she saw him and his thick, dirty blonde hair was thicker and longer than ever, hanging down to the nape of his neck under the brim of his tan Stetson. To top it all off, the bastard had a beard so thick and rugged, it put Kenny Rogers to shame…bastard.

She had no time to focus on the way the sweat glistened off the exposed skin of Steve’s neck or the way his thick thighs gripped the leather below him, because the moment they were close enough her older brother of two years was launching himself out of the saddle and onto her. His large, strong arms wrapped around her middle and hoisted her into the air, spinning her in the air and nearly causing her ankle boots to fly clear off her feet. When he finally placed her back on the ground, his grin was as wide as the Mississippi and as bright as the blinding Texan sun.

“There she is!” he beamed before looking all around her. “Where’s that fancy fiancé of yours?”

“He’s not coming till Wednesday, remember?” called their mother over her shoulder as she made her way back to the porch steps.

“He had some business to take care of before he could come down. Figured I’d come down ahead and let you get all of your crazy out before you meet him. That way you don’t scare him off,” teased Marianne, punching her brother’s arm in good spirits. “You look good. How’s the practice?”

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was the most accomplished of the Barnes’ children. After undergrad at the University of Houston, he went on to become a veterinarian and take over the old clinic right in town. Of course, that couldn’t be enough for the young Barnes man. No, he had to be annoyingly handsome as well; possessing the same brown curls as her, his boyish smile, tall height, and muscular stature always seemed to work in his favor. “Oh, it’s great. Busy as all get up,” he answered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his dirty wranglers.

“What? Your old man doesn’t get a hug as well?” asked George Barnes, handing his and Bucky’s reigns over to Steve before walking over to her and engulfing her in another hug. A feeling of safety and serenity washed over her as she hugged her father tightly. In truth, she’d always been a daddy’s girl. Never did she miss a moment growing up to help her father on the farm right alongside her brother. George Barnes, while coming across as stern and taciturn at times, was nothing more than a soft, kind-hearted man.

“Hi daddy. I missed you.”

“I missed you too pumpkin. My successful, big city daughter has been away for too long,” her father teased, an edge of sincerity to his tone. She gave him one last tight squeeze before releasing herself and turning her attention away from her father’s comment and instead to Sam Wilson. Sure enough, there he was, cast and all, sitting high and good-naturedly on the back of his Appaloosa. He was everything her mother described, kind brown eyes, a sweet gapped smile, cropped black hair, and deep tawny skin that glistened in the warm setting sun.

“You must be Sam!” Marianne said enthusiastically, crossing the distance and holding her hand out to him. Sam came to work on the ranch a few years after she left and while she’d never met him, she had heard quite a bit about him. Originally from Alabama, Sam Wilson moved out to Texas chasing a girl and fell in love with the open range and rolling river of Georgetown instead.

“And you must be Marianne. Pleasure to finally meet you,” Sam greeted her, taking her hand in his good one and giving it a gentle shake.

“Please, call me Mari. How’s your ar—”

“I’m gonna’ go put the horses up, George,” the gruff timbre of Steve’s voice interrupted her, the sound both grating to her ears and causing her heart to leap in her chest.

“Oh, alright. Do you want any help?” asked George, turning away from his daughter as Steve began to ride away, leading the other two mares along with him.

“Nah, you stay and catch up. I’ll only be a minute.”

“I should probably go and help him,” said Sam, grinning pleasantly at them before righting himself in the saddle and turning his horse back towards the barn.

“Why don’t you get settled in your room, while your brother and I get cleaned up for supper?” her father suggested, breaking Marianne out of her stupor. She only realized then that she’d been watching Sam and Steve intently as they rode away and disappeared into the large, red barn.

Marianne’s room hadn’t changed a bit. Apparently, her mother had never even given a thought to redecorating or repurposing the room and for that, she didn’t know whether to be grateful or concerned. The same baby pink covered the walls and stuffed animals adorned the surface of her flowery bedspread. Posters littered the walls showcasing the stars of her youth including The Dixie Chicks, Shania Twain, and, embarrassingly, Randy Travis on the ceiling above her bed. Trinkets of her childhood remained on shelves and her desktop. 4-H ribbons and trophies sat in all their glory, reflecting the days in which she put more stock in goat wrangling and horseback riding than watercolor technique and Renoir’s crippling arthritis. It was like walking into a living memorial of the late 90s in the loudest and most obnoxious way possible. She placed her purse and carryon on the bed when a thought popped into her head. Rushing to her closet, she pushed through the clothing, shoes, and a few boxes till she found the special hiding place she created all those years ago.

“Aha!” Marianne exclaimed when her fingers wrapped around the binding of her old diary. Suppressing a childlike giggle, she sat down on the thick carpet of her bedroom floor and opened the dusty journal to a random page.

Dear Diary,

Last week Mrs. Darlene said she was bringing in an older student to fill in for her and teach some of the class and you wouldn’t believe who it ended up being. That’s right. Steve. I mean, I shouldn’t have been surprised. He’s like the most talented artist in the school. Clint reckons he’s going to Julliard or Paris or something when he graduates. Too bad I still have to deal with his annoying face till then. It’s bad enough that I have to see him all the time at home with Buck. Now I have to see him in my classes too? Of course, he just had to get on my nerves too. He couldn’t just leave me well enough alone. He kept leaning over my shoulder and telling me my shading needed work. Sorry we can’t all be artistic geniuses. Some of us are just okay.

After class Clint kept saying how he thinks Steve has a crush on me. I said if that were true then he wouldn’t spend every waking moment with his tongue shoved down Sharon Carter’s throat. Of course, Clint had to go and rile my feathers by saying I was jealous. AS IF! I wouldn’t want Steven Rogers’ tongue within spitting distance of me, let alone in my mouth.

I mean, sure. He does have nice eyes and I can see how some people might think he’s handsome, but he’s no Tom Selleck. I wouldn’t kiss him if someone paid me $1000. Anyways, that’s all for today Diary.

Till next time,

Mari Grace xoxo

“Marianne! Supper’s on!” called Winifred from down the stairs, sending Marianne into a spiral of déjà vu. She shut the journal tightly, throwing it back into her closet before standing and heading downstairs. The expansive kitchen was everything she remembered from the olive-green cupboards to the faded pine table sat on a threadbare rug. She was the last to arrive, finding the table full and the setting across from Steve the only available spot. Begrudgingly she sat, purposefully avoiding any and all eye contact with the man sat in front of her. Instead, she opted to turn her attention to the delicious food in front of her.

Her mother had gone all out cooking her favorite foods: fried chicken, new peas and potatoes in cream sauce, corn on the cob, ham steak, green bean casserole, salad, fresh rolls, corn bread, and if her intuition was correct there was sure to be a peach cobbler sitting in the oven at that very moment.

“Wow mama, I hope you didn’t cook all of this on my account,” said Marianne, grabbing a chicken leg from the platter in front of her.

“Well it’s not every day my only daughter decides to grace us with her presence. I didn’t know if you still liked the same things, so I made a bit of everything,” said Winifred, helping herself to a bit of salad.

“Yea, we didn’t know if you’d become one of those vegetarians like all those hippies in California,” laughed Bucky, cutting a large piece of ham steak, and shoving it in his mouth.

“They’re not all vegetarians and they’re not all hippies. But even if they were, there’s nothing wrong with being morally and environmentally conscious of what you consume,” remarked Marianne putting a bit of potatoes on her plate and picking up her fork.

“Yea, a consciousness that could put all of us out of work,” said Steve bitterly.

Surprised at his comment, Marianne glared at Steve in annoyance. His face was tilted down towards his plate, but she didn’t need to see his eyes to know that he thought she was all hat and no kettle. She felt a heat begin to bubble just below the surface but bit her tongue. Turning to her father, she asked him how things were going around the ranch.

“They’re as good as any. Flannigan is thinkin’ of sellin’ again, but he’s promised if he does, he’d put it in writin’ that they have to keep me on as foreman. Looks like this ol’ place isn’t rid of me yet,” laughed George.

“Have you thought about buying the ranch yourself daddy?” asked Marianne, who’d never understood why her father never took the next step.

“Oh, I don’t know about that…”

“Sure, you can daddy. You definitely have the know how and I bet you and mama could qualify for some kind of loa—”

“There’s a lot more that goes into buying a ranch than you know, Marianne. It’s not as easy as snapping your fingers and having your rich fiancé get it for you with daddy’s money,” interrupted Steve, now looking up from his plate at her with a superior expression.

“Yes, I’m sure you know all about success what with going to college and—oh wait. You didn’t. You’re just still working at the Double R for old man Jackson like you were almost ten years ago. My mistake. And it’s Mari to you,” bit back Marianne, angrily stabbing into the food on her plate.

“Marianne you don’t—” began Winifred, stopping when Steve held up a hand.

“That’s alright Wini. She said what she said. I’m sure it’s easy to look down on all of us from such a high and mighty position as a middle school art teacher. Isn’t that right, Marianne,” said Steve smugly.

Marianne’s blood boiled, a red-hot rage heating her face, “At least I actually did something with my talent, Stevie.”

“That’s enough you two. If ya’ll can’t act civil at the table, you can just leave. Steven, you’re just as much a part of this family as anyone else, but you’re also a guest and you know better. Marianne, your mother worked very hard on this meal and we’re all excited to finally have you home. Don’t make us change our minds,” George scolded them, the kitchen going quiet as Steve and Marianne hung their heads in shame. It was silent for a while, the sounds of forks and knifes scraping their plates filling the air before someone finally spoke up.

“I was vegetarian for a while,” remarked Sam, putting his corn cob down and wiping his hands on his napkin.

“What?!” asked Bucky in surprise, “When?”

“I think I was…twenty? There was this new girl that started working down at the local diner in Mobile that was vegetarian. Rumor had it she only dated other vegetarians, so I came every day and ordered a veggie burger for lunch hoping she’d notice and we’d strike up a conversation,” Sam told them, reaching forward and grabbing a roll. “Turns out, she wasn’t a vegetarian. She was an Episcopalian.”

The table erupted into a fit of laughter, Marianne herself giggling so hard tears were brought to her eyes. “How long did you go in before you found out?” asked Marianne, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with her napkin.

“About a month.”

The group laughed even harder.

“See, that’s the difference between you and me Sammy. I’ve done a lot of stupid things for girls, but I’ve never let them change me,” said Bucky resolutely.

“Nah man, it’s not changin’ yourself. It’s takin’ a chance on love! You’ll never settle down if you aren’t willing to risk it all for the woman you love,” Sam put wisely, earning him a fond pat on the cheek from her mother.

Marianne smiled happily, missing the gentle banter that a meal at home could bring. She felt the prickle of gooseflesh rise on her neck and the looming sense that someone was staring a hole in the side of her head. On instinct she turned to find Steve’s stormy blue eyes trained on her in solemn concentration. Their gazes locked for a moment, a strange mix of emotions flooding from Steve that made her heart clench in her chest. Then, as quickly as they had appeared, they were gone. Steve was the first to break their connection, turning to George and beginning a quiet side conversation about the new cow horse he’d just bought.

“Don’t listen to this liar Sam. Buck has definitely changed himself for a girl,” said Marianne, shaking off the strange encounter and turning back to the rest of the table.

“What are you talking about girl?” asked Bucky in exaggerated confusion.

“Oh, you don’t remember Suzie Quentin?” Marianne questioned, knowing Bucky remembered exactly who Suzie Quentin was.

“Now wait—” began Bucky, shortly being cut off by Marianne as she turned to Sam to regale the tale.

“In the eighth grade Suzie Quentin said she thought Louis in Interview with a Vampire was hot and so Bucky spent a whole year growing out his hair so he could look like Brad Pitt!” said Marianne with a loud guffaw, moving away as Bucky tried to cover her mouth to keep her from talking. “Except, he didn’t know how to take care of long hair so—”

Bucky was successful the second go around, managing to clamp a hand over Marianne’s mouth so that the only sounds heard from her were a jumble of muffled words.

“Don’t listen to her, Sammy. She’s got a head full of stump water.”

When Marianne had finally managed to wrangle herself out of Bucky’s hold, she couldn’t find it in herself to be mad at her older brother. Quite the opposite really. A sense of sadness filled her at the realization that for six long years she’d missed out on this. The lightness. The familiarity. The happiness that only her family could provide. And for what? Taking another glance towards the large, sun kissed man across from her she felt a renewed sense of bitterness towards the man.

Once dinner finished and everyone was full on peach cobbler and homemade vanilla ice cream, Marianne excused herself from the table, standing and making her way to the porch. The sun had set. The brightness of the moon, hung fat and heavy and almost full in the sky, lit up the night. More stars than she could ever remember shone brightly from above creating a familiar wonder she often felt growing up. She never felt that in San Francisco, where the stars were constantly shrouded by heavy clouds and the lights of the city.

Reaching into her skirt pocket, she pulled out her cell phone and was surprised to find only a single text from Natasha informing her that their caterer had backed out. Nothing from her fiancé who promised to check in on her the moment he could. Of course, he probably was too busy with work. Sighing, she tried not to think about the wedding for at least one night and instead dialed Tony. The phone rang for a few moments before he picked up. From the other end she could hear the raucous sounds of people, music, and laughter blaring through.

“You’ve reached Tony: multimillionaire, genius, extraordinaire,” answered Tony, his voice vibrant and jovial.

“Tony, hey,” said Marianne feeling slightly confused. She thought he had a late-night conference call with Tokyo that night.

“Mari! Hold on one second—” the boisterous noise began to fade and then a door clicked shut before Tony spoke again “—sorry about that. How was your flight? Did you make it to Texas alright?”

“Yea, I did. Unfortunately, they lost all of my luggage, but it could be worse. My mom still has pretty much all my stuff here from high school still,” Marianne laughed lightly, leaning against the railing of the porch, and gripping it tightly. Her palms were slick with sweat despite the temperature cooling exponentially with the setting sun. Why on earth was she so nervous?

“Do you want me to have some of your things express shipped over to you?” asked Tony kindly.

“No, no need. I can get by. I suppose if I really need something that badly, you can pack it when you come down later this week.”

“Well, don’t go without it you don’t need to. You have the card I gave you. Don’t be afraid to buy whatever you need,” remarked Tony in the offhanded way in which he solved almost all of his problems. Normally this kind of answer wouldn’t make her think twice, but that night something about it irked her.

“Right. Hey, I thought you had nonstop meetings all this week. It sounds like you’re at a party.”

“Oh right, well, you know. Sometimes a meeting is a room full of boring people in suits and sometimes a meeting is cocktails and firebreathers on a rooftop,” joked Tony. Marianne could just envision the charming, devilish smile on his face. It usually did a fine job of getting him out of most trouble, but Marianne found that her inability to see it in person left her feeling put off. Before she could open her mouth to say as much, Marianne heard the sound of a door opening and then muffled voices. “That would be a business associate wanting to talk to me about reactor batteries. So…” Tony dragged out the word, waiting for her to make the decision on whether their phone call was about to end. Marianne paused. In this moment she could get mad, or she could let her fiancé continue to ride the high of a successful business for a while longer.

“Go. Have fun changing the world over flaming tequila shots,” sighed Marianne in good humor. Who was she to rain on his parade?

“God, I love you. Wednesday can’t come soon enough.”

Before Marianne could even get the words ‘I love you too’ out, the line went dead, and she was left standing alone on her parents’ porch in the deathly silence of the country. Or so she thought.

“Big city boyfriend too busy to talk?” asked Steve, sidling up beside her and leaning against the porch. He placed all his weight upon a single veiny forearm laid upon the chipping paint, crossing his long, lean legs, and cocking his hip to the side. It was the familiar ease in which he held himself that while normally made her skin itch, instead filled her with a weighty exhaustion she hadn’t felt in years. It had been a lot for a first day back.

“Fiancé and it’s none of your business,” spat Marianne, her tone barely holding half of the harshness it held earlier when they argued. She folded her arms around her like a protective blanket and looked out on the darkening fields ahead of her.

“Oh, come on Marianne—”

She sent a bone chilling glare in his direction that stopped Steve in his tracks. He let out a long breath.

“You’re right, it’s none of my business. Look, I just came out here to apologize. I didn’t mean to start a fight in there. God knows Wini and George wanted things to go well tonight and I’m sure us bickerin’ didn’t help any. They’d be devastated if you decided to wait another six years to come and see ‘em.”

“Don’t for a second think you have any right to talk to me about my family. Or to try and make me feel guilty for being gone. Not when you’re the reason I stayed away so long,” scoffed Marianne, taking one last glaring look at the man above her and storming back into the house, making Steve the one alone in the deathly silence of the country.

Taglist:

@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

@caffiend-queen

@grincheveryday

#fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #steve rogers #cowboy au #steve x ofc #tony x ofc

4 notes · View notes

nero-spardas · 5 years

Text

roadside - leon kennedy.

title: roadside.

pairing: leon kennedy x reader.

word count: 1,964.

warnings: alcohol, cursing.

summary: when your car starts acting up in the midst of a rainstorm, it can only lead to one thing: getting piss-face drunk with your partner.

author’s note: crossposted on ao3 as well! this was inspired by the bar scene in 27 dresses too haha.

You knew your car was a piece of shit; it was old and hanging on by its last thread. It was your first car and the one your mother gave you as a high school graduation present. You considered it your baby and you treated it as such, having always taken good care of it. The end was nearing though and the moment you felt fast vibrations from under your seat, you knew your luck was about to run out. You had been begging your superiors to rent you a car for traveling, anything you were able to use until you were on furlough and able to fix your current one. They had declined the request, leaving you in the worst position. Those assholes.

“Does it normally do this?” Your partner questioned, concern written across his features. You didn’t even need to look over at him to know he was concerned – after being partners for three years, you had picked up on Leon’s habits fairly quickly. His monotone voice was one of those habits; sometimes he would add a hint of concern, a hint of annoyance, or whatever emotion he was feeling at that moment. Normally, you would snort at his words and quip a witty remark, but him speaking was only adding to your frustration. Your hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, causing your knuckles to flush white.

“No, jackass.” You grumbled, eyes remaining focused on the road. Out of the corner of your vision, you could see Leon lean back into the passenger seat, his arms crossing themselves over his bulky chest.

His eyes squinted, gazing at the barely visible road. “Do you really think we should keep going in this?”

It had started pouring down rain thirty minutes ago, which was the start of all your issues. The wheels had begun acting up, the brakes were squealing – you knew your car like the back of your hand, but this was something you hadn’t witnessed before. It made you perplexed and almost questioning whether you should continue down the highway or not. The rain was making it hard to see and you could see fog approaching up ahead. You also knew you hadn’t seen a sign or exit for the past ten miles, leaving you practically stranded in the middle of nowhere if you were to stop.

“Do we have a choice?” You asked, finally sparing a quick look in his direction. “Hannigan wants us back at headquarters by tomorrow and if we aren’t there, she’ll bitch at us.” Grumbling the last part, a sigh departs from your lips.

“I’d rather have her yell at us than die because you crashed the car.” Leon retorted, causing you to slam on the brakes as you pulled over to the side. The vehicle skidded to a stop after a few seconds of sliding, anger taking root across your facial features. Once the squealing from the brakes had subsided, you turned your head to face him.

“Fine! Let’s just stop the car in the middle of fucking nowhere and walk, since you obviously know everything!” You exclaimed, opening the driver side door. You didn’t bother to grab your umbrella or wait for Leon as you got out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind you. Before you had the chance to stop yourself, you started walking down the empty highway and into the grey fog ahead.

Your heels echoed behind you, the rain pouring down on you. It didn’t take long for you to become soaked. You kept your gaze glancing around, hoping to come across a road sign to indicate wherever you were at. Behind you, you could hear Leon’s boots slopping against the wet pavement. Your arms remained tightly crossed over your chest, angry deep breaths being exhaled from your nostrils. The two of you remained consumed by silence, the only noise was the pattering of rain, as you finally reached an exit off the highway. A bar sat across from the exit, giving you something to finally smile about.

“Oh, thank god.” You muttered under your breath, your pace picking up as you practically ran towards it. It didn’t take you long to rush inside, the warm heat causing shivers to run up your back. It was a dive bar, what some would consider being a hole in the wall. It would do for the night and offer some shelter, at least until the rain passed. Leon ran a hand through his soaked hair, eyes meeting yours.

“I’ll call Hannigan and see if she can send a crew to pick us up.” He gestured towards a payphone in the back of the bar, eyebrows raising at you. “Go get a coffee or something, alright?” Concern danced behind his tone, your head nodding at the words.

You found yourself seated at the bar in no time, not bothering to order a coffee but instead, a shot of whiskey. You had earned it after everything you had gone through tonight and earlier in the day. You and Leon had been assigned to deal with some farm boys who had gotten their hands on a couple of B.O.W.S. They had sworn up and down they weren’t doing anything with them and they only had them to help with their crops, which was absolute bullshit. When you and Leon decided to play a game of good cop versus bad cop, they had confessed they were planning on getting rid of their other farming competition and you had the rest of your team take them to headquarters for further questioning. It wasn’t unusual for you and Leon to go your own separate way from the rest of the team, as the two of you were loners – besides for whenever you were around each other. There was a sense of comfort exchanged between the two of you and you often found yourself thankful for his company, even throughout the worst of times. You considered him your best friend and you figured he considered you his best friend.

As you drank your shot of whiskey, the burning liquor sliding its way down the back of your throat, you felt a hand curl around your shoulder.

“The phone is busted. Looks like we’re going to be bitched out by Hannigan tomorrow.” Leon spoke out before sitting on the barstool beside you. Your eyes rolled at the statement, motioning to the bartender to bring you both more. “I thought I said to get a coffee?”

“Fuck your coffee.” You scoffed, offering a playful smile in retaliation. “I figured I could use it after having to deal with you all day.”

“And like you’re any better?” Leon chuckled as the bartender returning with two more shots. Your eyes rolled once again at the words, your calloused fingers raising the shot glass.

“Cheers to us for being the most annoying people we both know.” You raised an eyebrow before Leon nodded, the two of you downing your shots immediately. You winced at the burning sensation before setting the glass down on the mahogany counter, eyes never straying from him.

“Actually, you’re not the most annoying person I know.” Leon rasped, the liquor having an effect on his throat. “I ever tell you about the girl who rescued me from Raccoon City, only to turn on me?”

The two of you continued downing shots of whiskey for what seemed like an eternity, swapping stories of your pasts as you both became more unhinged by the alcohol. The liquor was a blessing in disguise, allowing you two to be open about things you never imagined. Leon had opened up about Raccoon City, the event that would later force him into working for the USSTRATCOM. You knew about Raccoon City and what had occurred but throughout all the years as partners, he had always avoided discussing the topic and would get upset whenever it was brought up. You had opened up about your past, how you knew you always wanted to be a federal agent and the first time you had to kill; they were conversations that normal citizens would think were morbid and taboo. But between the two of you, they were almost comforting to discuss.

As you drank what seemed to be your seventh shot, your favorite song began playing from the beat-up jukebox in the back of the bar: Bennie And The Jets by Elton John. You bobbed your head to the lyrics, Leon nudging you with his elbow. "Come on, [Y/N]! You can't just sit there and nod along, you gotta' sing it!" He exclaimed, his words slurring slightly together.

Laughing at the way he spoke, you nudged him back. "She's got electric boobs –"

"Those are not the lyrics!" Leon burst out laughing, resting a hand on your right shoulder. He gripped it slightly as if he was going to fall from his barstool from laughing.

"And mohair shoes!"

"You know I read it in a magazine, oh-oh!" He chimed in, giving your shoulder another squeeze.

The two of you sang along to your made-up lyrics before finding yourselves standing atop the bar, singing to the rest of the bar. The rest of the people had crowded around the counter, chanting the actual lyrics as you twirled around, a bright grin across your face. When the song ended, Leon scooped you down from the bar before your gazes met each other. A lop-sided smile has taken root across his face and you can feel the warmth radiating between you. In the back of your head, you can hear yourself screaming to kiss him, but you resist the urge. You can't tell if it's the alcohol screaming or your heart. As if he can read your mind, he takes a step forward to close the distance between you. By now, the rest of the bar-goers have returned to the tables and have started taking swigs of their beers again. One of Leon's hands makes it way across your waist, pulling you closer to him and you can smell the liquor lingering in his breath. If you can smell his, you're sure he can smell yours and yet, he doesn't pull away and neither do you. You want this and you can almost swear that he does too. His gaze makes your knees feel almost weak as if you could fall at any moment, and you're thankful for the hand he has set on your waist.

"I'm glad I met you." He spoke, breaking the silence between you. His voice barely hovers over a whisper, earning a nod from you. Before you can answer, you cup your hands around his face before pulling his face down. Your lips meet his and the kiss is intoxicating. He tastes like the whiskey you two had been drinking for the past few hours and while you normally would have been disgusted, you find yourself desperate for more. Your kiss lasts for what seems like minutes and when you hear some whistles from the bartender behind you, you pull away to catch your breath. Leon does the same.

"You wanna' go back to the car?" You pant out softly, gesturing towards the door. Leon nods frantically as if he is desperate to keep this moment going. Reaching into your pocket, you throw a handful of cash at the bartender before telling him to keep the change, the two of you rushing out of the front door as quickly as you originally entered.

When you exit, you realize it stopped raining hours ago as the pavement is already halfway dry, and you can't help but grin. You would have to thank your car later for being your wingman and for being sturdy enough to handle what it was going to go through in a few.

#leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy imagine #resident evil #resident evil imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #imagines #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #mine *

157 notes · View notes

creamypudding · 5 years

Text

WIP Clack sneak peek

Hi,

I’ve decided to upload a sneak peek of my WIP Clack story. I’m currently on writing chapter 8 and I think the story might have 10 chapters, so I’m sort of nearing the end mark, but also still a fair way off completion because a lot of editing needs to be done. I’m currently re-reading everything that I’ve written so far to get my head around the timeline, which I had no clue about when I first started writing it, so now I’m making minor adjustments (read: major edits) to the previous chapters before moving on to chapter 8. It’s my form of procrastination because chapter 8 is a POV change, which is notoriously difficult on my soul. So, while there is no guarantee that this chapter 1 will look exactly like this when I get to posting the whole story, it should still be a very close approximation once I’m done with everything. I am happy to share this bit and hope to pique your interest in this AU. This story will explore mental health issues, like PTSD and body dysphoria. The main setting is in a hospital, so set expectations accordingly. Title: Silver Lining (working title) Chapter: 1 Fandom: FFVII - Modern AU Pairing: Cloud/Zack Rated: Teen Word Count: 10,232 Summary: Cloud is a delivery driver and one day gets a very specific job to complete, which sends him to the brink of discomfort, but leaves the door open for something very wonderful to potentially bloom.

CHAPTER 1 - Despite the winter sun being at its low-hanging apex, and this region never getting any snow, it was still cold. The frosty air gnawed and bit into the tip of Cloud’s nose, blasted against and stiffened his glove-covered fingers, and caused shivers to wrack his body. Winter wasn’t the best time of year to ride his motorcycle, but his passion for his vehicle outweighed the seasonal discomfort. He was as rugged up as he could be with his helmet and scarf underneath, multiple shirts, and a sweater under his riding jacket, and thermals under the leather pants to keep his lower limbs warm, yet Cloud looked forward to arriving at work, which he usually did around midday, where he would hop into the familiar white and blue delivery van with its air conditioner, funky smell, worn leather seating, and sticky patches all over the dashboard caused by spilled coffee.

He lived about half an hours ride from work and arrived at the two-story brick warehouse in a business district of the sprawling metropolis. He rode around the back of the large, empty lot, to the garage capable of housing five vans and parked his bike near the wall. He left his helmet hanging on the handlebars and headed through the lofty loading zone, past the only vehicle still reminding (his own) and to the door and into the heated office space beyond. With a relieved sigh he pulled his gloves off and rubbed them together to regain feeling and warmth.

Tifa gave the usual teasing greeting of, "Hello, Cloud. Sleep well?" which forced a grumbled unintelligible retort from him. He headed straight for the left side of the sparsely decorated rectangular room. A long, mid-chest high cupboard stood along the wall with five color-coded plastic double-letter trays atop of it. This was their duty roster system. The top tray houses his schedule for the day, and the bottom one held his payslips and things of that nature. A large whiteboard hung on the wall right above the cupboard with each employee’s details demarcated to line up with their specific letter-trays.

He grabbed his sheet of paper, listing addresses and delivery times, and stalked off to the van, grabbing the held out travel mug which Tifa had filled with hot coffee. “Thanks,” he muttered while she smiled at him with amusement. Cloud counted his blessings that Tifa was understanding of his late starts to the day and his sporadic-yet-far-too-common absences.

Cloud sank into his familiar seat, leaving the bright pink folder on his lap and cradled his mug. It warmed his icy hands and as he slowly sipped the liquid it gave him the energy to recuperate from the arduous task of having woken up this morning and gotten himself out of bed. He skimmed over his list of jobs for the day at a casual pace, set his GPS and then headed off to get his workday underway.

His day consisted of a sizeable amount of pick-ups and drop-offs. Small and large parcels and goods alike. Usually, he’d radio Gavin or Therone to see if he could get more jobs, but today he felt extra drained so just stuck to what was on his sheet. He drove to familiar businesses and places, and some new locations. One of these was somewhat out of the way. Cloud took a left turn onto the freeway and headed out of the metropolitan area. The scenery grew ever more rural and then downright quaint; cows and horses dotted fields, small bakeries and one-pump gas stations came and went.

The road, though no less busy, lacked maintenance and pot-holes great and small peppered it. The place he was after was on the main road and turned out to be a giant greenhouse. He pulled into the large expansive gravel forecourt, and to his surprise found the car park almost completely full. People came and went, carrying gardening equipment and flowers of all sorts of shapes and colors. He pulled into a parking space, and got out, heading for the large glass structure. For being so out-of-the-way of the major population centers, it sure was bustling.

As Cloud entered through a set of glazed double doors, and then another set of automated sliding doors to get into the building proper, he was instantly accosted by the perfuming fragrant smell of flowers, as well as a very comfortable warmth. Winter didn’t touch this botanist’s wet dream and it almost felt tropical. Cloud sneezed. Repeatedly.

He was reminded that flowers weren’t his friends, though he could still appreciate the botanical marvel he found himself in. Flowers and plants of all shapes, sizes, species, and colors grew absolutely everywhere. A lot were set in pots, but an equal number were also growing seemingly right from out of the soiled and mulched ground. It smelled like earth and damp. Not a wholly unpleasant smell. It's just the flowers that got Cloud sniffling like crazy.

He still sneezed when a friendly voice sounded next to him, “Here. My flowers have that effect on some people.”

Cloud turned and took the held out tissue with a, “Thanks,” and blew his nose. Once back in control of his body's reflexes he looked at the short-in-stature woman who had spoken to him; her brunette hair was tied in a ponytail, with wavy bangs falling wall past her shoulders. Her eyes, a vibrant green, sparkle and seemed enhanced by the rusty red of her mid-waist length cardigan, which sat over the top of a blue and white striped blouse. Her look of a homey farm-girl was completed by the soiled, three-quarter denim trousers and big brown boots. “Your flowers?' Cloud asked, "Are you the owner?”

The woman grinned brightly and gave a curt nod. She looked around, with a lot of pride. “This place is my life’s work. Growing and cultivating plants of all types has always been my dream. And of course, sharing the joy this life brings with it.” Green eyes returned to settle on Cloud once more.

Cloud thought her rather pretty. He wasn’t sure if it was her features or her passion for her work. Whichever the case, she seemed rather too cheerful. “For a profit though,” he said, not caring to disguise the sardonic tone.

“Well of course. Girl’s gotta eat, right?” she laughed. “Name’s Aerith Gainsborough. Welcome to my greenhouse. How can I help you?”

She stuck out her hand and Cloud took it. “Cloud Strife. I’m here to pick up a delivery,” he said with little expression to his face. Being around jovial people exhausted him. He could already feel his energy draining away and mentally scanned his brain to see if he had passed any coffee shops on the way here.

“Oh, wonderful! I’ve been expecting you. Come this way.” She turned on a dime, her ponytail swinging wildly and marched with a slight bounce to her step.

Cloud followed.

“It’s such awful news what happened to Zack,” she began, rather worriedly. “I absolutely hate not being able to go see him, but I’m flat out here. So many weddings and government ceremonies to plan for. My own delivery guys are all booked up for the next few months, and the hospital is too far away for me to get to on such short notice,” she muttered somewhat defeated.

Despite not knowing what she was talking about, he reveled in seeing some of that cheer strip away from the woman. He possessed an inherent distrust of cheerful people, for cheer was a disguise best reserved for shop-front clerks who wanted to flog you something. It wasn’t for real-life, flesh-and-blood people. Real people had their own shit lives and problems to deal with. That’s what he told himself at least. He had always found it paid off to be wary of the too happy and enthusiastic. He could relate to the woman more in her slightly soured state though. Yet not too much to engage in actual conversation with her.

They made their way into a large shipping container, housed off to the side. This was apparently the office area if the desk with a computer sitting on it, and the various cork boards and whiteboards propped up on portable stands, meant anything. The other thing that Cloud spotted was the very elaborate bouquet sitting on the desk.

“Besides, I’m sure he’ll have far too many visitors for me to be able to spend any quality time with him.” Aerith reached the desk with the bouquet sitting on top of it and came to pause before it. She stretched out an arm as if steadying herself against the table.

The quiet which followed unsettled Cloud somewhat. The bubbly energy seemed depleted.

“Uh, is everything alright?” he tried, merely as a courtesy.

Cloud heard the sniffle, and saw the motion which could only be a wipe at eyes. Aerith turned around, cheeks ruddy and eyes glassy. She gave a weepy smile. “No. It’s not, but I hope it will be very soon. I really wish I could go be with him. He needs someone to look after him.” “I thought you said he was in hospital. Isn’t that—”

“He needs some love. Some care. From people who genuinely care about him. I know the hospital staff do their best, but they’re just staff.” She sniffled some more, grabbed the bouquet and walked it over to Cloud. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like for you to make regular flower deliveries for me. I don’t know if he’s conscious or not, but I want his room to be full of color. I want him to not feel alone. So please bring this to him.” She handed the surprisingly heavy item over. “And I’d also like for you to be my regular delivery guy. I don’t want Zack to have to put up with not getting to know you.”

Cloud grunted and pulled a face. “Getting to know me?”

“Yes. You’ll be my proxy.”

“I'm just a delivery guy. Not an… escort, or… friend for hire,” he said with unease. Cloud definitely hadn’t signed up for this.

“I know that. I'm not asking you to do anything other than deliver my flowers to him. But when you meet him I'm sure you won't be able to avoid having conversations with him.” Aerith’s growing smile faltered, and sadness swept through, robbing her of any mirth which might have burgeoned. “Oh gosh, let him be alright,” she said to no one in particular. “Tifa said it would be alright for you to check in on him regularly and to give me updates when you come to pick up the flowers.”

“Did she now?” Cloud said with derision and barely kept the eye roll at bay.

Aerith nodded and started walking back out into the main building, and Cloud continued to follow.

The pungent smell of flowers accosted Cloud once more as they made their way back to the front of the greenhouse. A sinking feeling grew. “You know Tifa personally?”

“Oh yes. We’ve been friends for years. She’s told me lots about you.” Aerith threw a cheeky smile over her shoulder, back at Cloud.

Without a doubt, this had all been an elaborate set-up. He let a defeated sigh slip out and wondered if this Zack guy was even an actual patient. “More like she complains about me to you.”

“Oh no. Nothing like that.” Her laugh was like the tinkling of bells.

Cloud still knew that it was exactly like that. “Well, she’s never made mention of you,” he sulked.

His remark made Aerith spin around. Her smile radiated ever so brightly. “I’m pretty sure she has and you just never listen to her,” she giggled and gently pushed her palm against his shoulder.

Cloud couldn’t refute that. It seemed like a very reasonable assumption.

“Anyway, can you just wait here a moment. This bouquet is missing something.” Aerith dashed off, leaving Cloud’s nose to develop another irritating tickle.

The pungent flower smells aside, he also knew this whole situation reeked of something, but he didn’t know what. Well, perhaps he did know. Of course Tifa purposefully sent him on this delivery run. She was always trying to get him to be more social and make friends. Something which Cloud had no interest in doing. He thought it cruel to force friendship upon him with some guy who sounded bedridden. And to be fair, he felt it equally awful to force himself onto other people. Cloud hoped that if this Zack guy truly was sick that he would get well soon. That way Cloud wouldn’t have to visit for very long, saving them both the agony of playing at a fake friendship.

Aerith returned holding a few brilliantly vibrant yellow flowers. She stuck them into the bouquet, which mostly consisted of blues and purples.

“There. Some much needed complementary opposites.” She stepped back from her creation and admired it. “I hope he’ll love it.” Worry returned to her face. “I hope he’s okay. Please tell him I’ll visit as soon as I can if he’s awake.” Aerith looked like she was going to say more but clapped her mouth shut and shook her head. “No. I won’t bombard you with any more. Everything I need to tell him is in the card. Please see to it that he receives the flowers, and I look forward to seeing you next time.”

Cloud gave her a courteous nod. “Next time, then.” He knew that no amount of complaining to Tifa would get him off this roster duty. She probably had also talked to everyone else at work to make sure he couldn’t swap delivery duties, that’s how crafty she was.

_____________

The hospital Cloud drove to was a familiar destination. He parked around the loading bay, avoiding the large conglomerate of media stationed out the front of the main entrance. The hustle and bustle out the front of the hospital, though not completely foreign, was still a little strange. Cloud wondered for all of two seconds what famous or newsworthy person had ended up inside before he refocused on his job. He grabbed the bouquet and marched himself inside, making his way to the nurses station, as Aerith apparently hadn’t known the exact location of the recipient of her gift. He had done a fair few deliveries to the different wards in the past, which was why a fair few of the regular staff knew him by sight and gave him acknowledging nods as he passed.

“Oh, those are lovely. Who are they for, darl?” an elderly and a rather plump woman greeted Cloud warmly as he stood by the imposing desk.

“Evening, Barbara.” Cloud didn't have many friends to speak of, but most people he came into somewhat regulate contact with were friendly enough with him, and he reciprocated as much as possible. It's not like he hated people. It had more to do with him being too tired and exhausted most of the time to exert energy into keeping friends around. “They are for a—” he looked at the attached card for the last name. “Zack Fair.”

“Oh. He’s a right popular chap. I wish they would have sent him to a different hospital, to be honest with you. Maybe Golden Oak or Edgewater. That media pack out the front is driving everyone here crazy.”

“What? All those people out there are here for him?” A sinking feeling swept through Cloud. He didn’t deal well with being in the limelight, not even via loose association.

The head nurse gave a sullen nod. “Them out the front aren’t even half of it. Military folks have been in and out of the ICU all day. Day shift have had it up to here,” she gestured well above her head, “with all the kafuffle.”

Barbara’s words caused a rush of irritation to flurry inside of Cloud. He wrinkled his nose. “Military?”

She hummed in the back of her throat and shuffled through some papers at her station. “Mr. Fair is military personnel, or I guess that should be Corporal Fair? Is that how those titles are supposed to work?”

It took everything in Cloud’s power not to dump the flowers and leave. “Don’t they have a military hospital for this kind of stuff?” he grumbled through grit teeth, already knowing that the answer was ‘yes’.

“Apparently it wasn’t good enough for the injuries he’s sustained. He’ll be needing long term care and rehabilitation, and they aren’t cut out for that.”

“Ah—that bad, huh?” Some of the irritation quelled with a wash of sympathy.

Barbara gave a solemn nod. “Here, darl. There has been nothing else on the news all day.” She directed her gaze toward a television mounted on the wall to the right of the desk and turned the volume up a little.

Cloud hadn’t watched the news in what felt like months. It was always too depressing. “They let you watch TV?”

“Only the news channels, so we can be atop of any breaking disasters or crisis as they unfold.”

“Ah. Seems sensible enough.” Cloud turned his attention toward the news coverage. It was a lot of body cam footage from a battlefield. People running, gunfire, all in a vastly ambiguous and completely rubble-filled landscape. Cloud didn’t know which war this was, or where it was. He tried his hardest to not pay attention to things of that nature.

The footage went on. Shaking imagery, snaps of stillness, the bottom of the screen covered in scrolling text. Images of fallen soldiers bombarded the screen, but amongst all of it someone came charging in and pulled the fallen out and to safety. Cloud couldn’t make out what was happening exactly, but he got the idea that it was always the same guy darting in and out of cover, to collect the fallen.

Cloud keyed into the faint sound of the news reporter saying something about bravery and selfless acts of courage.

The footage eventually cut to the outside of a familiar building; Phoenix Dessert Downs; the hospital Cloud was currently in.

“Poor fool got himself riddled with more bullets and shrapnel than all of the other men and women he saved. The field hospital got most of it out, and he’s had more blood transfusions than I’ve ever seen anyone else get, but they can’t give him the long term care he needs. Oh, Cloud. Don’t look so glum.”

Cloud startled somewhat and felt his face return to a more neutral position. “I’ll most likely be coming here often, to deliver flowers to him.”

“He’s got a sweetheart, hmm?” Barbara smiled. “Here, take this pass. It will get you through to ICU and past all the military,” she said, sounding exhausted.

“Military personnel can be a right handful,” he observed and gratefully took the pass.

“It’s what day shift have been complaining about the most,” she sighed deeply.

“Bet they’re glad to hand it over to you and your crew, huh.”

“You know night shift handles pressure and unwanted riff-raff better,” she winked.

“That you do,” he gave a small smile.

Cloud took his leave of the nurses station, feeling exhausted from the exchange, and wandered the halls toward ICU. He observed that there were indeed a lot of military personnel mingling around the halls; mostly camped out at the vending machines, which made Cloud realize just how run down and in need of something caffeinated he felt.

He detoured to a coffee machine and drank the burnt, bitter and old tasting brew with a scowl as he forged ahead. He showed his pass to the appropriate authorities and was let through to the ward.

Evening had fallen, and though the interior was brightly lit, the ward was rather hushed. Nursing staff came and went, tending to all the critical patients. Machines beeped and whirred. Quiet murmurs ran through the place like an electric undercurrent.

Cloud went in the direction he saw the most amount of people, confident that it was the room he was after. He stopped across the way and looked in through the glass windows, which lined the wall facing the ward. He recognized the high ranking officials uniforms. A lot of Sergeants of varying degrees. It was kind of impressive, but it also irritated Cloud. This whole situation was irritating and he didn’t think he’d like to make these flower deliveries a staple thing of his working day if this was what he had to walk into every time..

He finished his coffee, tossed it in the trash, breathed deep, and went into the room to get his delivery sorted.

The buzzing murmur of conversation grew marginally louder as he opened the door and let himself in, but then it ceased in a flash, as all eyes turned onto him.

Cloud hadn’t felt this uncomfortable since his last family get together. He swallowed down the nerves. “Delivery for Zack Fair, from a Miss Gainsborough.”

“Ah, Aerith, the sweet thing. Just put them over there. Zack will be happy to see them if he eventually wakes up,” someone, who appeared to be a Sergeant Major, said to him.

The ‘if’ wasn't lost on Cloud. He gave a curt nod and weaved through the small crowd toward the bed at the center of the room. He could make out a seemingly sleeping figure in the bed. His head was bandaged up and gauze was plastered to his cheek. Wires and tubes were attached all over the man and ran in all manner of directions; some hooked up to monitoring equipment and all kinds of drips filled with clear fluids, but also bags of blood.

Cloud looked for somewhere to put the flowers. Here was a small tray table next to the bed, which was covered in bouquets and cards. More bouquets sat on a chair, and others lined the wall to the left of the bed. Clearly, this guy wouldn’t need any more flowers. He wondered if he could convince Aerith that the hospital room was colorful enough already, and could thus spare himself the trip out here and most of all back here.

He supposed he would have no such luck, and instead busied himself making room on the small tray table for Aerith’s flower arrangement (which, if Cloud had to admit, was one of the nicest in the room). He positioned the card so it would also be seen if this guy ever woke up. Cloud figured himself lucky to get out of conversing with him today. Was it cruel to hope he’d never have to make conversation with this guy?

Probably.

He looked back at the broken man lying in the bed. The bandaged head slumped toward Cloud’s direction and the man’s eyes seemed to be open a small crack.

Cloud looked back toward everyone else in the room, but no one was paying attention; too busy talking about tactical information; what to do about the remaining company and what honors to bestow upon the survivors, because Cloud was apparently not important enough to not talk about that kind of stuff in front of.

Cloud didn’t get what everyone was in here for if it wasn’t to help support a fallen comrade. So he decided that they probably just wanted to feel important and were here for some other self-serving purpose.

He turned back toward Zack and quietly murmured, “From Aerith. She’s worried about you, and is sorry that she can’t be here right now.”

Eyes slipped shut and it was barely visible, but Cloud thought he saw the ghost of a smile.

He turned and left, wondering if it would be a problem that he didn’t get the delivery signed off. He didn’t care enough about it to get one from any of the Sergeants in the room, especially not when he heard a faint, “Does General Strife have a kid?" pass through the gap in the door just as he shut it.

He got out of there as fast as possible, finished his other jobs through fatigue gnawing at him. Tifa asked how his day had been when he came back to delivery the van and invoices. He didn’t give her more than a grunting reply before heading back out, hopping on his bike and racing back home so he could collapse on his bed and sleep.

_____________

Aerith asked for a flower arrangement to be sent every second day, which at least gave Cloud rest in between to not stress about having to be in a wholly unpalatable environment. Despite only passing through and lingering in the place for 20 minutes at most, those were still 20 minutes he would rather never have to endure in the first place. But when he saw Aerith again to pick up the next delivery, her gratitude melted Cloud’s displeasure. His heart grew heavier with each passing day that he couldn’t tell her that the man she was so worried about still hadn’t woken up yet, both for her and himself.

He detested the hospital run. It stressed him out and stress legitimately was no good for him. As the first week of doing this job passed, Cloud could feel himself becoming unwell. He always got sick when he was highly stressed, and going to the hospital was a toxic cocktail of stress for him. It didn’t matter how well he organized himself; going in at 6 o’clock at night when there were fewer media and military sleazeballs lurking about. The late deliveries didn’t let him completely escape run-ins with the military. He took to wearing a baseball cap, pulled down over his face, but he could still feel the lingering eyes and hear the too-loud whispering rumors that he was who they all thought he was and everything that came with that territory.

Each day he heard something else; ‘Did you hear he couldn't even finish basic training?’; in the hallway; ‘Did you hear he got special treatment?’; the elevator; ‘Did you hear his parents pulled strings?’; the coffee station; ‘Did you hear he slept with a General?’; passing the door into the bedridden man’s room; ‘Did you hear he got spoon-fed the entrance exam questions?’.

Each day the well of his resentment grew exponentially deeper.

He tried to ignore, to not hear, to pretend he imagined it all. He went about his job, hurrying in and out of the hospital, sometimes seeking refuge at the hot coffee dispenser to refocus himself and get a caffeine hit to stop him from falling asleep behind the wheel, especially as these hospital visits completely drained him. Cloud hated having to be here. Hated the military. Himself. The bed-ridden source of his misery.

Why, out of all the hospitals in the world and in particular this city, did apparent poster boy have to land in this one? Not that Cloud supposed it mattered much since Tifa somehow knew Aerith and both ladies apparently loved pushing their own agendas onto himself.

He kept doing his assigned job though because Tifa (predictably) had put an embargo on anyone taking or swapping that particular job off Cloud. It did not help his mood or physical health. He could feel the onset of the cold and the day after having been stuck in an elevator with 3 military goons who had recognized him, as he had done basic training with two of them close to a decade ago, he crashed and couldn’t get out of his bed when his alarm went off at 11 in the morning. He couldn’t face another day of doing that job, even though today, most likely, he wouldn’t have to go to the hospital. The weeklong process of going through the hospital halls, seeing uniformed personnel, had completely sapped him of his already minimal pool of energy and it crescendoed today, so he slept the day and the next away.

Tifa rang several times, checking in on Cloud, which he appreciated.

"I'm sorry, am I pushing you too hard? I can reduce your workload to five runs a day."

"Do I still need to cover the hospital?"

Silence greeted him for a few beats, "Is it really stressful for you?"

Cloud felt like such a pathetic weakling. Suddenly a surge of needing to ‘suck it up’ raced through him. "No. I think being around all the sick people is just making me sick. I’ll be okay in another day… I think.”

“Take as long as you need. Felix is doing the hospital runs for now. If you think it would be better for your health not to—” “No, really. I’ll be fine. Just give me back my usual runs when I’m back.”

“Okay.” Cloud hated his strong sense of duty.

_____________

Cloud returned to work and did his best to ignore the people around him. He went even later to the hospital, just to be on the safe side and as much as possible hid behind the flower arrangements he carried, especially when it came to the guard who was stationed at the door. Cloud still felt worn out by the almost daily ordeal but, with a sardonic huff, decided to soldier on.

As the weeks passed, he learned more about his comatose burden through the media. Nothing about the operation he had been involved in though, as that was deemed highly sensitive. He wasn’t one to watch the news, but found himself watching it now, just to get some information, especially when he heard conversations with phrases like 'such a shame’, 'cut down in his prime, ‘it's all too bad’, as he passed by people in the hospital.

He learned about all the honors, achievements, and military pursuits of the spirited young man who now lay unmoving and in a critical condition in a sterile hospital bed with intubators, drips, catheters and various other devices attached to himself. Cloud could appreciate the sadness of it, the tragedy of what had befallen this man, especially since the reports said he had worked tirelessly at saving his comrades and single-handedly kept the squad’s Sergeant alive.

It dawned on him one day while standing there in the empty darkened room, surrounded by the staggering amount of flowers, that it almost felt like he was visiting a crypt. Yet there also sat awe in this place, because he bore witness to this barely-there military man, fighting and struggling for his life, even in this perfect stillness, which was punctured by the rasping breath through the oxygen mask and the soft sound of machinery in the background. The monument of decaying flowers, deflating balloons, knocked over 'get well's cards all spoke of one thing: the love of the people; those he had saved, those who knew him, the general public; they adored him and what he represented. Unwavering spirit, devotion, sacrifice, martyrdom. It was like the flowers were a farewell.

Cloud stared at that physically manifested concept every time he stood in the room, trying to find a place for one more flower arrangement. One more tribute to lay at the foot of the living memorial. It left a sour taste in Cloud’s mouth. He understood that this man had been deemed a 'go-getter’ by his superiors. A real 'people person’ by his peers. Someone who had always joked and make sure all his comrades and anyone under and even above himself had been okay, which was what had made him such a great Corporal—had made him. All those things were now relegated to the past, a memory, a dream. And all for what…. Cloud got stuck on that thought and with pure derision, muttered, “Look where all that love and affection has gotten you. You’re stuck here, all alone, in a room full of dead things. And the public and military can’t even wait for you to be properly dead before turning your room into a grave.” Admittedly Cloud was having a rather glum sort of a pensive day.

He kept delivering flowers, kept watching the news late at night when he couldn’t sleep, despite being utterly physically and mentally exhausted. And he listened on the radio while driving his van. It was never anything terribly meaningful or insightful. All events from the battlefield, reports on casualties, and anything pertaining to the mission which had landed the man Cloud visited on an almost daily basis in the hospital, was barely forthcoming. The operation was still deemed too sensitive and top secret. So all the media could report on was Zack Fair.

Cloud felt somewhat entrapped by the man he had been made to visit. Zack Fair turned into a morbid oddity and curiosity; a form of Stockholm Syndrome perhaps. A trainwreck Cloud was glued to witnessing. He wondered if Zack would ever wake up. He wondered what the man was actually really like. He doubted anyone would ever speak badly of the man or call him out on any asshole-ish behavior while he was in such an in-between life and death state of existence. He couldn’t buy that this guy was so amazing, wonderful, kind, fun. Sure, he sounded nice and like the exact type of person, Cloud avoided in his life. It sounded like a real shame for Corporal Fair to not recover from this. But maybe it also really wasn’t. Who knew? Cloud sure as hell didn’t, and wouldn’t know what the actual reality of the matter was unless the dead rose from his coma.

Cloud tried to not lose any more sleep over it and pushed his wonderings away, focusing on the job at hand, which in the end led him right back to the hospital, standing before his charge, staring down at him, thinking a myriad of conflicting thoughts. In the end, he always decided he didn’t care. He was getting paid. It was just the damn military personnel that got under his skin and made this the worst part of his day. He resented coming here. Hated that the comatose guy didn't just wake up, freeing Cloud of his obligations.

"You're one hell of a selfish son of a bitch," Cloud muttered another day, after having caught a half-heard conversation between the military personnel stationed outside of the door, bemoaning their station over having to watch and guard against media entry. "But keep giving them Hell out there," Cloud finished with a smile, liking the discomfort being inflicted on people who resented having to look after someone who apparently did crazy brave things, like sticking his neck out for other people. Cloud supposed the extra resentment outside might have something to do with a new spate of news that he had caught last night.

"You know you got a bunch of medals? I don't know if anyone's been in to inform you, but… congratulations," Cloud said with bitter amusement as he set the flowers down on the tray table. "You got a Medal of Honor, a Distinguished Service Cross, and a Silver Star Medal. You're one impressive guy, Corporal Fair." He bent down to look Zack in his more-akin-to-dead-than-alive face. His eyes trailed over the bandaged forehead, the patch over his left cheek, the mask covering his nose and mouth to help him breathe.

"Hope it was worth being like this, man." Cloud was greeted with the even breathing, the whirring of machines, and the faint beep of the heart rate monitor.

He stood back up and left the room.

_____________

There came a point, somewhere around the 1-month mark of Cloud having started on his hospital delivery route, that things seemed to change a little. He arrived at the comatose man’s room to find the oxygen mask off and a considerable amount of equipment gone. The mountain of flowers also looked smaller and a more sensible amount. Cloud tested the room with a faint, “Hello?” but received no reply. He went over to the bed, warily inspecting the other man, who looked gaunt and pale, but a lot better for not having all that equipment and tubing attached to himself.

There was no motion, other than an even fall of the chest, and generally speaking, the man looked like he had always done while lying in this bed. Cloud left the flowers and headed out, catching Barbara before leaving.

“How is Zack doing? He’s no longer on the oxygen mask.” “He is doing a lot better, yes. His independent breathing improved so he doesn't need the respirator.” She wasn’t willing to give much more information than that, so Cloud left to return the van and go home to sleep, which came a little easier to him that night.

It was also roughly around the 1-month mark that Cloud began enjoying his trips to the hospital a little, especially on rough days because an almost comatose person couldn't give him any flack for not arriving precisely, to the second, on time. They weren’t going to back-chat or give him the stink-eye. Other than the military being everywhere, Cloud relaxed considerably when coming here every second day. The walk through the hall was uncomfortable but he would grab an awful cup of coffee, hurry to his target’s location, not even be acknowledged by the security anymore as Cloud was as good as the bland decor around the hospital, and dumped the flowers wherever he found space. He then sat down in the uncomfortable guest chair and peacefully drank his burnt coffee.

That routine and place almost became like a sanctuary. Sure, he had to traverse Hell to get to it, but it was pleasant when he got there. He found it nice to not be in a mad rush, nice not having to do small talk. And then two weeks after the respirator had come out, the military finally, for the most part, departed. Things were getting even better for Cloud.

One day, he had been in a frantic rush the entire day due to massive traffic congestions absolutely everywhere he had to get to. Exhausted and starved he grabbed whatever looked least offensive at the hospital cafeteria and made his way to the ICU. Once he had deposited yet another exquisite bouquet, he slumped into the guest chair, which had been cleared of flowers a while ago, and relaxed with a deep sigh.

“God, what a day from hell,” he bemoaned and after a few beats of breathing and quiet, he sat up straight and opened his styrofoam food container.

“I’m sure you don’t mind me eating in here, right?” Cloud glanced at the only other occupant of the room. “I mean, I do bring you all these flowers, and I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who regularly visits. So, if you’re not going to thank me, the least you could afford me is to let me use you like a tray table, huh.”

Cloud looked at the way the body in the bed lay almost lifeless. A steady beating and shallow rise and fall of the chest were the only signs of life.

Taking the prolonged silence as permission, Cloud dug into his meal. Was it strange talking to an unconscious person? It didn’t feel any stranger than talking to himself late at night. It was about as enlightening, but he weirdly enough did enjoy the idea of another set of ears listening, without receiving dumb and pointless input.

“You’re not missing out on much with this food,” Cloud informed as he chewed. “Too dry and rubbery. But food’s food. And bad burnt coffee is still caffeine.” He took a sip, scrunched up his face and placed the cup carefully onto the bed before himself.

He ate the rest of his meal in silence, mulling over his schedule. When he was done he tidied up and got up. “Well, it was fun, Zack. It’s okay if I call you Zack, right? Or you prefer Sergeant Fair? All your new fancy medals aside, you also got a promotion, y’know?” Cloud looked and got no response. “Zack it is then. See ya later.” And with that he left, feeling far more energized after a meal and some liquid energy.

_____________

Cloud kept coming because Aerith kept ordering flower arrangements to be delivered. He lingered ever longer in that room, finding it oddly meditative. Zack's silent company reminded Cloud of his old family dog, and as Cloud sat in the chair, thinking about it, he almost reached over to pay the comatose man's head. He caught himself though and chuckled about it.

He wondered more and more about the man he was tasked with 'keeping company,' for he did keep him company more often than not. With the military gone, bar for a patrol here and there and the occasional door check, the hospital had a far more relaxed atmosphere, and Cloud found himself less drained and ready to crash by the time he got home. He figured if he was going to stay up anyway, he might as well do it whilst in someone's company.

Cloud sat and used this hospital room as his private dining hall, eating evening meals he had picked up from the cafeteria or from a fast food joint outside. He also sometimes checked his phone while he ate, reading articles, playing games. It was nice and quiet, just how he liked it. And while he did these things he also cast glances over to the sleeping man. The glances turned to gazes, where he studied the man's face and the way his chest rose and fell, shallow and at rest.

Sometimes he got stuck in his head, replaying all that he knew of the other man and all he had seen on the TV. It was a peaceful, quiet evening in early spring. He had a tray of hospital food in his lap, his phone in one hand and a spork in the other when the thoughts that bothered him the most fell out of his mouth in a hushed tone, “What kind of food do you like, Zack? Bet the answer isn't hospital food,” he muttered whilst putting another forkful of green mush into his mouth.

Predictably, there was no response.

“I know what school you went to. I know how hard you worked to get to where you were. I vaguely know about the mission you were on when this happened to you—that’s all the news talks about. Well, they also talk about how whatever you were involved with is still highly top secret so the public isn’t allowed to know the specific details of it. It's been nearly 2 months now since you landed here, and who knows how much time you spent in the field hospital before you were brought here. Smells like a cover-up, if you ask me. I hope you’re not gonna be like some scapegoat for them,” that thought riled Cloud up, but he tried to relax and changed the subject, “But anyway, all that stuff in the media doesn’t actually answer the real questions I have, like what’s your favorite color? Why did you think that mullet was a good look for you in high school? Yeah, the news channels love pulling out that photo of you in your yearbook.”

More silence greeted him and Cloud also fell silent again.

He kept his visitations up, he kept asking Zack random things, but got bored of not having anything answered and soon ran out of things he wondered about without repeating himself. So instead, he used Zack as a way to vent his frustrations with work, and some of the people he had to engage with.

“Did you know that Mr. Storgeno wanted all blue cocktail umbrellas? Well, I didn't either, until he opened up the box right in front of me and started complaining about it. Like I packed that box myself and purposefully put green and red umbrellas into the packet, just to spite him. Kinda wish I had,” he finished in a mutter.

He had many more stories to tell about how he—the messenger—got shot, in the proverbial sense. Venting like this made Cloud feel lighter every time he left the hospital at the end of his day.

That was Cloud’s life; struggle to wake in the mornings, struggle to stay awake in the day during work, dealing with pleasant and unpleasant people alike, and then dropping by the hospital on the days it was on his roster, to chill out before going home where he’d have a battle to shut off in order to get a good night’s sleep.

The days and weeks passed. The military continued their stance of keeping quiet to protect national interests, and so, public interest diminished. The media in front of the hospital dwindled, there were no more sensational headlines, and news of Zack Fair faded into the background and complete obscurity as the months Zack spent in hospital turned to 3.

Cloud still caught sight of the occasional military uniform, much to his chagrin. He managed to avoid them mostly, and came and went undetected as Zack’s security didn’t seem very dedicated to their job, especially as the public no longer had any interest in the man stuck in the ICU ward.

It was one unremarkable evening; Cloud had finished all his deliveries, bar one. Exhaustion clung to him, weighing him down. He went to the coffee station on his way to Zack’s room, pulling his hat over his face as he passed the goons, who stood near the coffee station, cups in hands.

“Did ya hear that they’re gonna continue paying him an on-active-duty wage? The guy’s barely alive from what I’ve seen,” grumbled a burly military man into his cup of coffee.

“And here we are, gettin’ paid less than the guy we are here to guard. Just makes ya wanna spit,” the smaller of the two men responded.

“I’ll tell ya what, Biggs, if I were in charge of the budget I’d find better things to spend it on. Why’s he even need all this special attention? Stick him in the public sector. My sister-in-law’s a nurse over at the fifth district. Says they have all the same equipment.” “The big wiggs gotta put on a show. Make it look like they actually give a shit about their employees. Makes for a hella PR stunt.”

“Ya don’t think the whole thing was a setup to begin with, do ya?”

"No clue. They tell us jack shit."

Cloud had enough. He slapped on a lid for his coffee rather violently and spilling nearly half his drink. Hissing, he grabbed for napkins to mop up the mess and dry himself off a little. He felt eyes on himself and lowered his head, as well as turning away slightly. He unfortunately still heard it though—

"Ya heard the rumors that General Strife’s son doing deliveries around here, haven’t ya?"

Cloud's nostrils flared.

"Deliveries…” a derisive laugh followed. "Is that the only thing that kid's good for? If that was my son I’d be disappointed. I heard everyone in that family has some foot in the army. To be doing deliveries," disappointed tutting followed.

"I know what ya mean."

The voices sounded louder as if directed at Cloud. He threw the soiled napkins in the bin and rushed off, coffee and bouquet in each hand, heading down the hall and away from the muttonheads.

He barged into Zack’s room, dumped the bouquet at the foot of the bed and started pacing.

“How dare those jerks talk about you like that. After all you did. This is what I hate. The backstabbing, two-faced bullshit. Being treated like a number and a burden!"

He was in full swing—pacing around the room and fuming. “I can see it in their smug, douchey faces, you know. The derision. The pity. I don't need anyone's pity. I never asked for anyone's pity. And they throw that same shit at you. At least you can't see or hear it. You're a national hero, but they try to brush you off like you don't exist. Like you're broken. That's what they all do, you know. If you don't cut it they cut you off, and let you go." Cloud stomped, his hands flew around wildly gesticulating as he kept ranting, "They love nothing more than to hammer home what an epic disappointment you are to the whole fucking family,” he slammed his fist into the wall with a low growl. The pain radiated up his arm. It helped to sober him up and cool him off a little. He breathed furiously and stared at the wall, which had become rather blurry through the tears welling up in his eyes.

He listened to the buzzing of machinery in the room. His ragged breathing and the steady beeping of Zack’s heart rate monitor cut through the slight ringing in his ears. Yet the beeping sounded a fraction faster than what it had been before.

“Sorry,” Cloud muttered and turned back to face the room. He stared at Zack's unchanging body for a while before he shuffled back toward the comatose man. Picking up the bouquet as he went, he sank down into the now-familiar chair and placed the flowers on the table where he should have put them to begin with. “I hate it, y’know. I hate what you do and the organization you work for. And if you were to wake up right now—well, I'd hate to think that I’d probably hate you too.” His heart felt heavy. Most of all he hated that it was the truth. As upset as he felt right now, he wasn’t saying this to be vindictive; nothing but honesty left his mouth.

He gave a hard stare at the man on the bed before him. His face was turned away, and Cloud thought it for the best as he spoke in a slow, semi-whisper, “A part of me hopes you won’t pull through.” He cast eyes to the floor. He felt awful admitting it. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be doing this. And most of all, I don’t wanna know you because… because if I got to actually know you through something other than the media, I'd probably end up really liking you. It's easy to hate you when they espouse you to be the poster child of the military. I don't want to like you. I don't want to hate you. Fuck, I don't know." Cloud clutched his head, flinging off his hat and rubbing at his hair furiously. "I don't mean that. I'd rather think the best of you, really. But…" he sighed, "you also don't seem like someone I would ever get along with. Everyone seems to love you—I mean, I don't think I've ever seen a room so full of flowers and get-well wishes on cards. You know, the cleaners have to clear out your room once a week to stop this place from becoming a jungle? That's how much people like you. I mean, I don't know if they are from personal friends and family, but… it doesn't even matter. It’s been three months and you still get so much love showered your way. You're like an amazing poster child. The media made it sound like you were a prodigy; super good at your job; such a bright future ahead of you. That's what I hear the shitheads outside say about you too—the ones who envy you. That's what it is, you know, jealousy and envy. And I know because…” he huffed. “But here you are, nearly dead. Bet no one envies that.. Bet they wouldn't have the guts to be the kind of guy you were—are. I don't even know whether you're dead or alive. All I know is that you're everything I hate in a person. You're everything I wish I could have been. Shit. I don't know. I'm just ranting, ignore me." Cloud sat up straight and replaced his hat.

With a heavy sigh, he continued, “It’s a pretty shit way to feel about someone, especially since I don't even know you. Look, I guess all I know is that from everything I've seen and heard, you sound… really irritating. I guess it’s not the fairest assessment to be making about a person.” Cloud, leaning back down to rest his forearms on his thighs, knit his fingers together and stared at his hands. “I probably sound like a real asshole. I guess I am. And to be honest, if you woke up and I found out you were somewhat of an asshole, that would make me like you more. It would give you a redeemable quality.” Cloud huffed out some sad amusement and looked up at the man he had just admonished. “Or maybe I want you to be an ass so I can feel better about myself.”

He righted himself from where he had slumped. “But all that being said… I actually kind of do hope you pull through. I’m not evil. Or maybe I am.” Cloud cast a glance toward the currently frosted-over privacy windows that looked into the ICU ward. “I want you to prove everyone out there wrong. It’s disgusting the derisive pity and platitudes they all spout. I'm sure you deserve better than that. I'm sure you don't need their shit.” Cloud sighed and picked up the coffee cup he had set down amongst the bouquets. He took a sip and grimaced. “And I'm also pretty sure I deserve better coffee than this.” He aimed and threw the cup toward the bin near the door. He hit his mark and collected himself so he could walk out of the room with an air of aloofness.

“Anyway, good chat, I guess. See you later.”

_____________

Deciding he didn't want to take on his colleagues workload, as he felt rather run down, he arrived very early in the afternoon at the hospital. Cloud wandered down the hospital hall, carrying another bouquet to its usual destination and felt rather anxious. The thought of how long it had actually been since his delivery recipient had landed in the ICU began bothering him. The fact that Zack was still in the same state as the first day Cloud had done his delivery grew disconcerting for him. Yes, the man didn’t need a machine anymore to help him breathe; yes, several more of the intensive care equipment had slowly been moved out of the room, but Zack was still there. Was he brain-dead? Was he improving? Cloud tried to not think about the other man too much, but lately it ate into his sleep and he could feel the onset of another unwell period settling in. He hated how he could practically feel himself slipping into the prodromal phase of his condition. He needed to get some good sleep tonight if he hoped to not crash and burn in the morning. So he stopped by the nurse's station to see if he could get some information.

“Evening Simon,” he said of the man dressed in dark scrubs and a hazel complexion.

“Hi, Cloud. That's another very lovely bouquet you got there.”

“Aerith is a master when it comes to this stuff. I don't think any of the ones I've brought in have been the same.”

“I think you're right. But what can I do for you? You don't make a habit of stopping by for a chat.”

“Ah, just wanted to know how Zack was doing. He's still in the ICU after all this time. That doesn't seem right. Will he be okay?”

Simon looked past Cloud to where Zack's room was. “Considering how on a knife's edge he was, he's doing remarkably well. He's been such a delight, it's almost a shame that we'll be moving him next week.”

Cloud stared, baffled by everything the other man has just said. “He's being moved?”

“Yeah. Getting his own private area, up on the fifth floor of the residential rehabilitation wing. It’s pretty nice up there.”

“Wouldn't he be better off staying down here?”

“No. He's out of imminent danger. Plus, he’s been asking to be moved for the last two weeks.”

“A-asking? But he's out cold.” A sinking feeling grew.

Simon looked confused. “He's been pretty vocal. For someone in his shape, he's been remarkably upbeat these past few weeks. You don’t know that he’s awake?”

If it were possible to feel sea-sick on land, Cloud experienced it at that moment. “No.” The nurse hummed. “Maybe you keep coming in when he's sleeping?”

Cloud really hoped that was what was going on, but his brain went to the worst-case scenario; mocking betrayal. “Yeah. Must be it.”

Cloud took his leave and headed to the room. The windows were frosted over for privacy. As he approached a man with raven hair, and a woman with ebony curls, and an olive complexion, exit the room. They didn't appear to be the regular military personnel; wearing casual clothes as the sting of winter had gone.

As the parties passed each other the woman stopped Cloud in his tracks. “Excuse me, are those for my son?”

Cloud looked toward Zack's room and back at the couple, both of which were a good five inches taller than himself. “A delivery for Zack Fair.”

The man and woman gave him big, good-natured smiles.

“So you must be Cloud,” she said.

Strangers knowing his name always unnerved him. “Ahhh, yeah—that's me,” he answered warily. Cloud had his hand taken and shaken in turn by both of them.

“We can't thank you enough for keeping our son company. We know that it means a lot to him.”

Indignation started to build, but he kept his cool. “There's nothing to thank me for.”

“Oh, come now. Don't be so modest,” the rather-fit-for-a-middle-aged man said, smiling broadly. He clapped Cloud on the shoulder.

“You have been such a great help to our Zack. Thank you,” the woman looked to want to pull Cloud into a hug, but the flowers he held seemed to dissuade her, to Cloud’s relief.

“If we can ever repay you for the kindness, please let us know,” the man said.

“Oh, n-no, that’s not… I’m just doing my job,” Cloud stammers lightly.

He received more warm smiles an ‘thank you’s before the woman urged, “Dear, we should be leaving, and let Cloud get on with his work.”

“Right, right. Thank you again for looking after our son.”

With that the couple hurried off, leaving Cloud staring at the now offending room before himself. He thought about not going in. He'd obviously been played. But he had a job to do, so he inhaled sharply and ventured forward.

On opening the door he was greeted by a wholly unfamiliar voice, “Hey, mom, pop did you—”

Cloud stood in the doorway, glaring daggers

The bright smile vanished even before the sheets were flung over the bedridden man's head and the lump under the blanket shuffled flat against the mattress. Faux snoring sounded moments later.

Cloud stood and his hard-as-steel glare broke at the ridiculousness of the scene playing out before him. It might have been amusing if Cloud wasn’t getting red hot with anger and embarrassment.

He closed the door behind himself and moved toward the bed, a frown playing on his lips. He went to the bed and dropped the flowers on the tray table, making the flimsy plastic rattle. “Another bouquet from Aerith,” was his business-as-usual greeting.

Cloud received no response other than the snoring quieting down a little. He glared and made a snap decision. “I’m not coming back here.” Humiliation burned. Cloud turned to flee the situation and feelings. He’d rather quit his job than make one more delivery to this place. He was going to tell Tifa as much.

“No, Cloud. I’m sorry. I’m an asshole, I know. But that’s why you should stay,” came the hasty and guilty admission in a low, rusty timbre.

Cloud stopped before he reached the door. Without turning back he agreed with the man, “You are an asshole.”

“But it’s my redeemable feature, right?” Zack laid out gently.

It took all of Cloud’s energy to keep his body from trembling with outrage and mortification. How long had this bastard been faking it? “Does Aerith know that you’re awake?” he got out through grit teeth, wanting to know how deep this farcical ruse went.

A few beats of silence. And then, “She visited last week,” came the muttered response.

The outrage erupted. An actual growl rumbled in the back of CLoud’s throat. Through grit teeth, he snapped, “And?”

“Aaaand—we talked and had a really nice time,” came the small, chastened voice.

Cloud huffed, sharply. His clenched fist trembled and his heart hammered. The flash of heat inside his body sprang to his cheeks. He thought he could die from embarrassment. She had known. He had seen her this late morning and she had said nothing to him. He didn’t know who he was madder at. “Good luck with your life,” he spat over his shoulder, without looking at the bane of his existence, and marched to the door.

“I’m so sorry,” came the plea. “Please don’t leave. Let me ex—”

Cloud slammed the door behind himself and hurried out, ignoring any looks or questions of concern he received. His whole body trembled with burning outrage by the time he got to the car. He couldn’t go back to work to drop the van off. He couldn’t face Tifa without snapping at her and unleashing all his anger at her, because she must have known as well.

Cloud went home and passed out in his bed.

#clack #zakkura #FFVII Modern AU #fanfic #sneakpeek #first chapter #hospital #military #cloud strife #zack fair #tifa lockhart #aerith gainsborough

13 notes · View notes

themelonsins · 5 years

Text

Whirlwind [sickfick holla]

okay this is based on this post I made a while back u know but it was so cute that I had to write something for it now anyways i love dimitri but i love torturing him much much more. theres also a lot of canon events mentioned and if theres any confusion of those im v happy to answer

Warnings: stuffing, emeto, mentions of decapitation (?)

Things for the University of Supers Honors College were in a complete spiral. The constant villain attacks, Scarlet going missing. The most devastating occurrence was the death of Audrey’s second head-Twoey. Not only did this leave Audrey out of commission for weeks on end, but severely depressed as well. So, the gang-save Scarlet and Xavier who, upon her return, decided there was much they needed to discuss as a couple-decided to take Audrey to a nearby amusement park to brighten her day. They’ve missed her smile oh so dearly. Dimitri orchestrated the whole thing-spoiler this day doesn’t end well for our well meaning Russian baby.

“Ready to go, Audrey,” Dimitri slung his shoulder around his green-tinted, mutant friend. The top of her head was wrapped with a sort of bandage, for safety precautions. The female smiled, her sharp canines glinting brightly.

“Yeah, I’m ready to have some fun after being cooped up in the infirmary for weeks,” Audrey breathed deeply, watching as Jesse came forward, Audrey’s purse slung over his shoulder. “I’m gonna ride with Jesse, do you mind? I mean, I know this was your plan.” Dimitri just waved his hand, giving Audrey his most handsome grin.

“Nah, of course. Jesse’s a handsome guy, of course you want to spend a car ride with him,” Dimitri winked at the two, a blush forming on the apples of Audrey’s cheeks and a slight one on Jesse’s. “Don’t kiss him too hard, he’ll make you never want to stop.” Audrey burst out laughing, and Jesse froze in his tracks, face exploding in a bright red shade. Rie hit Dimitri’s chest as he laughed in a rhythm with Audrey. Pulling Audrey’s arm, Jesse let out an embarrassed blush as he pulled Audrey down to the door.

“You’re dead Romanov,” Jes yelled as he was opening the door, Audrey’s giggles loud from behind him.

“Love you!” Dimitri called back. “Ready, Rie?” Dimitri’s electric gaze followed Rie as she skimmed through her purse.

“Yep! Let’s go.” She beamed, skipping out the door. Dimitri smiled at her while she skipped, though something was bubbling in the pit of his belly as he followed suit.

***

The car ride to the amusement park wasn’t doing the dull ache in his stomach any favors. Any bump in the road only made it worse. The heavy rock music, altering between RnB tracks provided a nice distraction from it. Listening to Rie’s beautiful voice belting to the track of No Scrubs by TLC, Dimitri chuckled while his stomach let out a loud, ugly gurgle.

“Whoa,” He breathed, a smile on his face though that gurgle forced a ripple of pain to pull through his stomach. Turning the music down, Rie looked at him with a devilish grin on her face.

“Wow, Romanov, hungry?” She teased, waiting until they were stopped to start poking at his, already, sensitive tummy. He giggled a little, though the poking provided more pain than a ticklish sensation. “Do you want to stop and get some food?”

“Nah. Nope,” Dimitri shook his head, starting to drive once the light turned green. “I can wait, don’t worry about it.” Rie snorted.

“Whatever you say, Sparky.” Her smile was almost contagious, yet he definitely felt that whatever war was raging in his tummy wasn’t due to hunger.

***

When Dimitri told you getting off that first roller coaster was the worst experience of his life, he wasn’t exaggerating. The twists and turns, the loops, only made the nausea so much worse than it was in the car. He hid it fairly well with cheering and yelling, yet he stopped a good way through because he was too scared that bile or vomit would fly out of his mouth and onto Audrey who was in front of him. Walking off, the after effects of the coaster were hitting him hard. He felt dizzy and like he was about to throw up everywhere.

And Audrey jumping on his back with a loud giggle didn’t make matters easier. Yet he mustered through with a smile.

“That was so so so much fun, Dimitri!” Audrey laughed loudly, Rie and Jesse trailing behind her.

“Yeah it was,” Smiling, he held his hands on her waist to set her down gently. Yet she couldn’t help but bounce. Hahnna and Ezra found their way to the group. Both of them decided sitting out on more endorphin rising rides would be best for their weak stomachs as they both had really bad motion sickness. Maybe Dimitri should join them.

Nah. Nope. Not gonna be a pussy. Not today.

“How bout a few more rides before we go get something to eat?” Rie suggested, which was met with an agreement from the group. Dimitri remained silent, the mere mention of gross, greasy amusement park food made his stomach churn in a not so fun way.

“Can we go on baby rides, please?” Hahnna requested with a smile and absolutely no one could say no to that girls sweet smile. Honestly, Dimitri never loved a suggestion more.

The baby rides, as Hahnna called them, provided a really nice relief onto his struggling tummy. Every time they walked to a new ride, he’d rub small circles into his abdomen, hoping to provide more comfort. To no avail, but the heat of his hand radiating through his shirt felt lovely.

***

This was the part of the day he didn’t want to happen. Dimitri didn’t want to eat anything, he felt so awful. While his friends were ordering food, he had every intention of paying for Rie and not actually getting anything.

That idea received a good amount of backlash from his dear friends.

“Dimitri you haven’t eaten anything all day,” Ezra pouted, putting his hands on his friends shoulders.

“Yeah, besides, your stomach was growling like a caged animal this morning,” Rie teased, rubbing a circle into his belly. Dimitri had to hold back a groan from how nice her hand felt on his achy stomach. He watched her brows furrow, yet didn’t think anything of it. Swallowing back whatever he was feeling, Dimitri caved. He ordered chicken tenders, the lightest thing they had and what would hopefully be gentle on his stomach.

The laughter and conversation they had while they ate was such a wonderful distraction from the pain. Though, every time he swallowed food into that absolutely pain filled belly, Dimitri could feel the ache grow and feel the bloat starting. His part in the conversation started to dwindle. Instead, he focused on rubbing his belly in smooth circles, and doing his best to not unbutton his pants in public. Though it wasn’t long before a loud belch rippled past his lips. In response he covered his mouth, a blush forming on the apples of his cheeks.

“Bless you!” Hahnna smiled, doing her best to joke around with Dimitri’s no-doubt embarrassment. Rie looked over to Dimitri, concern glazed over in her eyes. Audrey laughed, waving her hand back and forth.

“I’ll give that like an eight point five,” She joked with a smile.

“I’ll take it.” Dimitri joked.

***

Dimitri’s walking pace to the next ride most certainly slowed down, and the only one who noticed was Rie, who kept her speed low to match Dimitri’s. When she was this close, she could hear how angry his tummy was. It was gurgling loudly.

“Are you okay?” She asked, sliding her arm across his waist. He leaned into her, grateful for the balance she was providing. “Something not agreeing with you?”

“I’ve felt so sick all day, honeybee,” Dimitri admitted, running his hand across his bloated belly.

“Sweetheart! Why didn’t you say anything?” She gasped. “Sit out from this next ride Dimitri, now.” Dimitri shook his head, getting in line for the ride against Rie’s will.

That was the worst mistake Dimitri made on this day. Everyone had their endorphins rushed due to so many loops and turns, but all Dimitri felt was the urge to yak. They were all talking and laughing, but all Dimitri could hear was white noise. He spotted a trashcan and that was it. That was the end for our smooth as butter Dimitri. Instantly, Dimitri began to vomit. The little he ate coming right back up along with bile and water.

“Oh my God, Dimitri,” Jesse yelped, running to his best friends side, a cool hand running down his back. This only helped everything come up easier. “What the Hell, man?”

“Dimitri are you okay?” Audrey asked, running to his side. Her hands felt up and down his stomach, feeling the bloat. “Oh, Sparky you’re so bloated.” Dimitri couldn’t respond, the vomit coming up his throat prevented any words. Tears began rushing down his cheeks. “Don’t cry. Oh sweetie, don’t cry.” When Dimitri pulled away from the trash can, his hands felt numb and he slid onto the floor, groaning in absolute and utter pain.

“How long have you been sick?” Hahnna asked, kneeling in front of him.

“All day,” Was his hoarse response, hand raising to wipe his lips with the back of his hand.

“Baby,” Jesse huffed, pushing Dimitri’s bangs out of his sweaty forehead.

“I’m so sorry Audrey,” Dimitri choked, and he felt like crying more. He ruined this day for Audrey. “I didn’t want to ruin this for you.”

“You didn’t.” Audrey hushed him, cupping his cheeks. “Rie will you please take him back to the dorms?”

“Like I’d do anything else,” Rie smiled softly down at the sickly boy in front of her.

***

The car ride home was silent. Dimitri was curled in the back seat, trying to sleep but, like earlier, the bumps in the road made him feel so much more sick. She lead him back inside, and lay him gently on the couch. This was all in silence. She grabbed the heating pad, plugged it in and laid it on Dimitri’s aching belly. It was still so bloated, even if it was empty. Kneeling beside the couch, she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Feel any better?” Rie asked.

“Slightly,” Dimitri breathed. “I still feel like my stomach was wringed out but,” sighing he curled into the couch. “My tummy hurts.”

“I know,” She cooed, rubbing circles into his lower belly, not covered by the heating pad. The doors to the common area opened and the group rejoined Rie and Dimitri in the common area. Audrey held a giant teddy bear in her arms as she walked in, Jesse with ginger ale.

“Hey,” Audrey smiled. “I’m so sorry your sick, sweetie,” She sighed. “So I got you this bear. You’ve been so sweet with what happened to me. The least we can do is take care of you.” Jesse set the ginger ale on the table.

“This is for when you feel a little better. Just to get something in your system,” Jesse offered, arms crossed. Dimitri smiled.

“Thank you guys, I appreciate this but,” Dimitri burped in the back of his hand. “Can I just take a nap out here?”

“Of course you can!” Audrey beamed. “But expect a load of belly rubs and cuddles from us when you get up!”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

#dimitri #audrey #jesse #rie #hahnna #ezra #belly rubs #belly bloat #upset tummy #emetophilia #emeto fic #sickfic #stuffing #i suppose #drabbles #super squad

8 notes · View notes

kiera-hastings · 7 years

Text

Back from the Dead

Steve x Reader

Side note: Benny lives because I want him to🤷🏼‍♀️

Also, it may seem a little choppy, but that’s because I cut out the parts that were unnecessary so as to get to the better parts faster!

Part 5

Steve was across the room in a second, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into his chest. He held me as if he was scared I would slip through his fingers again. I couldn’t help but feel guilty for not going to see him sooner.

“How did you— when did you—” Steve stuttered. “Where have you been?”

He then cringed at his own sentence.

“I mean, I know where you’ve been,” he continued.

“I knew what you meant,” I said into his shoulder. “I’ve been staying with Hopper.”

“What?” Steve pulled back. “How long have you been back?”

“About three days,” I admitted.

“You’ve been back for three days and you didn’t think to come see me?” Steve asked, a look of hurt crossing his face. “You didn’t think it’d be nice to let me know you were alive?”

“Steve,” I tried, but he cut me off.

“I didn’t stop looking for you,” Steve said, his arms now crossed across his chest. “I went to Hopper every day for weeks after you disappeared. I even snuck into the lab like thirteen times!”

“I know, Steve, I just—” I started. “Wait, you snuck into the lab?”

“Well, tried at least,” Steve huffed. “They caught me every time and called Hopper.”

“I’m sorry,” I said lowly. “I know I should have gone to you as soon as I got out, but I was scared.”

“Scared?” Steve looked at me in with furrowed eyebrows.

“I didn’t know if we were still friends,” I mumbled.

“You didn’t know if we— of course we’re still friends,” Steve whispered. “(Y/N), you’re my best friend.”

“It’s just, after the fight—”

“I shouldn’t have left,” Steve interrupted. “I’ve been wanting to make things right since the moment I backed out of your driveway. I should have gone back but I was too stubborn.”

“No, Steve,” I shook my head, unable to meet his eyes. “It’s my fault. I— I shouldn’t have said what I did and I definitely shouldn’t have told you to leave. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Steve shook his head. “You’re back now and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Day number two,” Hopper said as he drove me to school. “You think you’ll actually go in the school this time?”

I rolled my eyes as he glanced over at me with a teasing smirk.

“You know, if you keep this up you won’t be graduating for another few years,” he shrugged.

“I promise I’m actually going to go to classes today,” I huffed. “I just got spooked yesterday.”

The car pulled up to the curb in front of the school and I placed my hand on the handle before hesitating.

“Kid, it’s going to be okay,” Hopper said as he placed my hand on my shoulder. “You can do this.”

I turned to look at him but noticed his focus had shifted to something out the window. Looking in the same direction, the corners of my mouth turned upwards slightly at the sight of Steve quickly approaching the car.

“Good morning,” he smiled cheerfully as he opened my car door for me.

“Hi, Steve,” I said, trying to hide my smile.

“You ready?” He asked before I started to get out of the car.

“Yeah,” I said.

“I can drive her home today, Hopper,” Steve offered.

“Uh, no, that’s alright,” Hopper replied, and I realized Steve couldn’t know about the cabin in the woods.

“Oh, okay then,” Steve looked slightly disappointed.

“Can you pick me up from Steve’s later?” I asked Hopper before turning to Steve. “If that’s alright with you, of course.”

“Yes, yeah, that would be great,” Steve smiled.

“Just call the station when you want me to come get you, alright?” Hopper said.

“Okay, thanks Hop!” I said before I climbed out of the car.

Steve and I began to walk away., but Hopper called after us. We turned back to see he had the window rolled down.

“Make sure she actually goes to class today, Harrington!”

“I will!” Steve grinned.

Hopper nodded with a smile before he pulled away from the club and drove off. Steve turned to me and placed one of his hands on my lower back, guiding me inside the school. As soon as we stepped through the doors, everyone’s eyes seemed to fall on me. I could feel my heart racing and my face heating up as I turned to look at the ground. Steve’s flat hand slowly began to grip my shirt tighter and tighter, pulling me closer into his side.

“It’s okay,” he whispered to me. “They don’t know what happened. They don’t matter, alright?”

I nodded my head, but Steve and I both knew I would still feel like a caged animal on display. Steve’s hand stayed firmly planted on the small of my back as we made our way through the halls and to our first class.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Steve asked as he came up to my locker after school.

“Definitely,” I nodded before following him outside. “Today was absolutely horrible.”

“They’ll get over it,” Steve shrugged.

“It’ll take a while,” I sighed. “Do you know how many different rumors I’ve overheard about what happened to me? Seven. I’ve heard seven different theories that are all completely wrong.”

“They’re just bored,” Steve tried to reason with me. “Like I said, they’ll get over it. I give it a month, tops.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Steve and I climbed into his car before he backed out of the parking spot. As we reached the main road, Steve turned in the opposite direction of his house.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“I figured we could go to Benny’s, maybe grab something to eat like we used to do,” Steve grinned over at me.

“That is a wonderful idea,” I agreed.

I reached forward to turn on the radio and switched stations, trying to find something I knew. It had been eight months, though, and I was starting to lose hope when I heard a familiar sound.

“Oh my god, no way!” I said happily.

“Oh, no,” Steve groaned, but I looked to see there was a smile on his face.

“Hurry boy, she’s waiting there for you!” I sang out, reaching my hand out to Steve. “It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you, there’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do, I bless the rains down in Africa, Gonna take some time to do the things we never have!”

Steve laughed as I danced in the passenger seat and, somehow, things felt normal again.

Steve and I sat down in the back corner booth, the one that had always been ours. I smiled at him slightly as he waved Benny off who was about to come over with menus.

“I don’t think we need them,” Steve called out.

“You ready to order?” Benny asked.

“Not yet, we’re waiting on one more,” Steve answered.

“One more?” I asked confused. “Who did you invite?”

Steve opened his mouth to answer, but his gaze shifted to something over my shoulder. His face lit up in a large grin as he put his hand up in a wave.

“Nancy!” Steve called out and I looked over my shoulder to see her walking towards our table.

“You invited her?” I asked, feeling a little hurt.

“Yeah, I figured we could all hang out.”

I looked at him in disbelief, but he was too focused on standing up to give Nancy a hug to notice that I had been hurt by his insensitivity. Did he really think I would want to third wheel him and his girlfriend? Especially after what I confessed to him all those months ago?

“Hi, (Y/N),” Nancy gave a small wave as she sat down in the booth next to Steve.

“Hello,” I greeted politely, forcing a smile to my face. “Excuse me for a moment, I have to go to the bathroom.”

I didn’t wait for any kind of a response before I got up and darted for the hallway that led to the bathrooms as well as the diner’s telephone. I picked up the phone and dialed the station’s number, determined to get out of here as fast as possible.

“Chief here,” Hopper’s voice filled the line as I blinked away tears.

“Hey, Hop,” I said, my voice shaky. “Can you come get me, please?”

“Yeah, I can do that,” he said, sounding more interested now. “Are you at Steve’s?”

“No, we actually went to Benny’s,” I mumbled. “He invited Nancy and I’ve quickly become the third wheel.”

“I’ll be there in five,” Hopper said. “Maybe order me a shake and fries while you have to wait?”

“Sure,” I smiled softly. “Thanks, Hop.”

He hummed in acknowledgment before we both hung up. I took a few deep breaths before walking back towards the seating area. Instead of going back to the table, though, I went up to the barstools to give Hop’s order.

“Chief asked me to order him a shake and fries,” I said to Benny. “Not sure what kind of shake, though. He didn’t say.”

“I’ll just get his usual,” Benny chuckled.

“Thanks, Benny,” I smiled before trudging back to the last place I wanted to be.

“How was your first day back?” Nancy asked, and I gave her credit for trying to break the awkward tension in the booth.

“It was good,” I force another smile and Steve gave me a look for lying.

“That’s… good,” Nancy nodded.

Neither of us seemed to forget that I told her off the night I disappeared. But as I looked at Nancy, I felt almost bad for being distant. She actually looked as though she cared.

“If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m around,” she gave me a small smile. “Especially if you get sick of Steve.”

“Uncalled for,” Steve interjected.

“Thanks, Nancy,” I nodded, ignoring Steve’s comment.

Steve and Nancy’s food was brought over by Benny, who asked me if I wanted anything. I realized they had ordered without me and again felt my heart get caught in my throat. It’s fine, I told myself. I’ll be leaving any second now anyways.

“Didn’t you order when you came back from the bathroom?” Steve asked.

“Uh, no,” I mumbled. “Just said hi to Benny is all.”

“Why, don’t you want something?”

“I’m just not hungry,” I said, avoiding his eyes.

“You said you were starving after school,” Steve reasoned, and Nancy looked between us with an indiscernible look on her face.

Before any of us could speak further, though, the door opened roughly and I wa relieved to find Hopper standing in the doorway when I looked over my shoulder. I shot him a thankful smile as he walked towards Benny at the counter.

“You ready?” He called to me, barely glancing at the couple across from me.

“Yeah,” I said simply before standing up. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

I barely looked at Steve as I spoke, opting to face Hopper as I made my way across the diner. Steve called out my name from behind me, sounding confused, but I ignored him.

“Did you get anything?” Hopper asked and I shook my head. “Hey, Benny, got time to make a quick shake?”

“Yeah, what do you want?” Benny asked and Hopper turned to me.

“Chocolate, please.” I answered.

Benny turned and got my shake ready as I took a handful of Hopper’s fries. As soon as he was finished, Benny handed the shake to me and we walked out.

“Thanks for saving me,” I said as I closed the car door behind me.

“No problem, kid,” Hopper said. “I shot him a glare that he won’t soon forget. Hopefully he’ll get the hint for next time.”

“Probably won’t,” I said. “If he’s dense enough to think it’s okay to bring his girlfriend around the girl who confessed she loved him, then I doubt he’ll understand why you’re mad.”

“I was so sure—” Hopper started, but cut himself off.

“So sure of what?” I asked.

“He never stopped looking for you,” he said, glancing at me. “I think he’s just confused.”

“Confused?” I scoffed. “That boy yelled at me when I told him how I felt. He’s not confused.”

“He should still care about how you feel, though,” Hopper said. “He’s still your best friend.”

“Yeah,” I muttered back.

But I wasn’t sure if he really was.

Taglist (couldn’t tag):

@moonlightbae14 @mikaelasingswritesloves @alisonbrookss @tiarrasmith @glitta-killa @xxcxrolinexx @sarcasm-n-insomnia @fangirlbitch02 @musicandbeat @filternotincluded @ginger-swag-rapunzel @beepbeep-bitches @wonderxluster @suck-my-popsicle-stick @ajtaylor1424 @stormkitty97 @wanderlusting-about-life @lunascalettas @xxchloegrayxx @converseskyline @love-your-little-thingss @dreamwritesimagines @jjsbae0904 @loser-marsh @fangirlingovereverythingblog @treblebeth @89-chloeswiftie-89 @simplyrellamy @deepsouth @phonegalhelp

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #stranger things 2 #jim hopper #chief hopper #chief jim hopper #hopper dad #dad hopper #i got lazy with tags

104 notes · View notes

just-jordie-things · 7 years

Text

My Holiday Boyfriend [pt. 2] - Richie Tozier

word count: 12k (i’m so fuckin sorry it’s this long...) warnings: swearing, angst, a christmas fic past christmas cuz i’m a piece of shit a/n: here it is :) y’all been antsy asf for this. tags are at the bottom

The drive was long to get to your hometown. Richie had packed the night before and crashed at your place so that the two of you could wake up early and get on the road. It’d been four house so far, and Richie had been sleeping in the passenger seat until about ten minutes ago. Now you were quizzing him on the plan.

“My mother’s name?” You questioned.

“y/m/n” He replied.

“Father’s?”

“y/d/n”

“Good, I think this is going to go smoothly” You said, but he still noticed the way your hands were tight on the steering wheel, and eyes were all over the place. Richie frowned, adjusting his glasses then bending over in his seat to rummage through his backpack. “What’re you doing?” You asked anxiously.

“You’re nervous, I’ve got something to fix that” He told you.

“If you hand me a cigarette I will throw it out the window” You warned, but he just chuckled. Finally finding what he was looking for. You glanced over, seeing as he produced a small cassette tape, and popped it into the car’s console.

“I haven’t smoked in two days, just so that I wouldn’t smell like it because of your family. If that’s not true friendship I don’t know what is” He said, and you rolled your eyes. But you didn’t argue, because you were silently thankful he’d decided to quit for the week. One, because if your family smelled it on him, they’d absolutely wreck him. And two, because it really was bad for you, and you were didn’t want him getting lung cancer or anything of the sort.

“You made me a mixtape?” You asked, glancing over at him momentarily as Richie turned up the stereo. A song began to play that you’d never heard before. But you liked how it sounded and how it made the car fill with a feeling you couldn’t quite describe. “What is this?” You hollered over the blasting song Richie had put in.

“A band called The Cure-”

“No, this… this feeling?” You asked, RIchie raised his brows over at you, but your eyes were focused on the road.

“Pretty sure that’s happiness, doll” He said with a laugh. You didn’t say anything, just dove yourself into the lyrics of the new song.

The entire cassette played two hours of music that you really liked. You didn’t usually listen to this genre… but you could easily blame that on the household you were raised in. When the tape had finished you switched it back to the radio, and rode silently for a while.

Your thoughts were reclusive with different wild daydreams. Mostly of the plan that you and Richie had schemed. You shot a glance over to the boy in the passenger seat, who was half asleep. His hood up over his head and his feet on the dash. His head was against the window as he tiredly watched the passing scenery. There weren’t many other cars on the road, only a few here and there. The sun was beginning to set, creating a sapphire sky.

“I like when it snows, you know?” Richie broke the silence. “As much as I love the summer and the heat… I like watching it snow. It’s worth the cold” You smiled softly, eyes flicking up from the road to the gentle snowfall.

“Me too Rich” You responded quietly, and yawned afterwards.

“You want me to drive for a bit? You’ve been at it all day” He offered. You smiled over at him but shook your head.

“That’s alright, I was gonna swing through a drive-thru at the next one I saw, any preferences?”

“I like everything” He replied. You nodded again, and leaned back in your seat a little bit.

“Thanks for the tape by the way” Richie glanced over at you, watching as you focused on driving. He smiled, more to himself than anything else.

“No problem. Just doing my civil duty” He said with a chuckle, making you laugh quietly as well.

“If I ever listened to something like that in the house my parents would’ve thrown me out, and set my player on fire” You told him. “They never liked any kind of rock, or punk. It was always jazz or classical under their roof” He watched you intently, never having known what it was like to have parents who gave a shit. “I didn’t mind classical I guess” You added in more of a mumble, like you were talking to yourself now. “I liked playing piano too… but I wouldn’t have started if they didn’t force me to take lessons. God I’d spend hours on that bench with cramped knuckles while trying not to cry-” You snapped your mouth shut quickly, realizing you’d said too much. “Sorry, I rambled on there”

“No don’t be sorry” Richie sat up, and put his feet back down on the floor. “You didn’t tell me anything about your family that wasn’t the basics. I’ve never heard about you childhood”

“I haven’t heard about yours either” You pointed out with a quick side glance.

“That’s cause there’s nothin’ to share” He said, face void of expression. It was quiet for a few minutes, the vulnerability creating a thick tension in the car.

“Well I can’t tell you many fond memories” You eventually caved. “My older sister was always better at everything, and I could never fill the space she left when she went off to medical school” You sighed. “I don’t know why she always took mom and dad’s side on everything. Not like they treated her too much better than me” You shrugged your shoulders. Richie didn’t divert his gaze from you for one second, completely focused on everything you were saying. “Guess I went all the way to Maine for college to get away” You shrugged again, and was silent for some time.

“I wish I’d known you earlier” He said in a soft voice you’d never heard from him before. You looked over at him for a few longing moments, seeing his serious expression. You smiled sadly at him, and you didn’t need to say anything for him to know you agreed. “Who knows, maybe we would’ve been dating for years rather months” He told you with a big stupid grin that made you laugh at him.

“Who knows?” You replied with a small chuckle.

Who knows.

When you finally took a break you and Richie switched, so you could rest and Richie could drive. You ate up french fries and to-go burgers and after eating you slowly fell to sleep in the passenger’s seat.

Richie didn’t mind driving, especially since you were growing restless and sleepy. Now you were almost completely knocked out. Body curled up in the seat with your arms around your legs, holding your knees to your chest. Your head against the window. He looked over to you every few minutes, checking on you, and just looking.

He thought about what you’d told him, knowing that you felt like you weren’t good enough. Silently, he told you that you were more than worthy enough to bless someone just by being in their lives. And he didn’t believe much in blessings.

Not two hours later, he was reaching out to shake your shoulder gently.

“y/n” He spoke quietly, hoping not to disturb your sleep anymore than needed. You stirred but didn’t say or do anything else. “y/n wake up, we’re in your neighborhood”

“Fuck” You cursed softly, and Richie chuckled as you sat up properly, your hair a little messy and your eyes droopy from sleepiness. You directed him to your house and put on the shoes you’d kicked off earlier. Finally you pointed at the house you’d grown up in, eyes growing wider as worry bubbled inside you.

“Hey” Richie said softly as he parked in the drive. You looked over at him, not even bothering to hide the obvious fear that your expression held. It would have been pointless. “It’s going to be fine, you’re going to be fine” He told you, turning off the car and unbuckling his seatbelt to face you. “I promise”

“How can you promise that? You’ve never met them…” You whispered. Richie gave you a slight casual shrug.

“Because I’ll take care of it” He spoke gently. “And if shit hits the fan, I’ll still stay here with you for every miserable second” You smiled shakily and reached over the console to hug him. You and Richie weren’t usually all that touchy, but if you were faking a relationship anyways a hug couldn’t hurt. Richie squeezed his arms around you before letting go. “You ready doll?” You nodded, faking a big smile.

“Let’s go, boyfriend” You taunted, before getting out of the car. “Open up the trunk, we can bring our luggage up and go right to bed” Richie did as commanded, then got out to help you carry your suitcases. Just one for each of you, but also a backpack of more personal things that weren’t clothes. Richie held out his hand to you, and you looked up at him before taking it, intertwining your fingers and letting out a deep breath.

“Ready for this girlfriend?” He asked with a small snicker, and you nodded, the both of you walking up to the front door.

“As ready as I’ll ever be” You breathed out, before ringing the doorbell.

This is it, you thought. This is the make or break moment.

Richie squeezed your hand, and you shared one last glance before the door swung open.

“y/n!” Your father spoke enthusiastically, but his eyes just as quickly landed on the boy next to you. And holding your hand. “Who might this be?” He asked, already going into overprotective-father mode.

“Dad, this is-”

“Richard Tozier sir” Richie introduced himself, holding his free hand out to your father. The man looked at you questioningly before shaking your ‘boyfriend’s’ hand. “But everyone calls me Richie”

“Richie” Your dad repeated.

“Remember I told you and mom about him? And you said I should bring him for you to meet?” You spoke, trying to get your heart to stop beating so fast in your chest. He knows it’s fake he knows it’s fake he knows it’s fake-

“Ah, I see. I guess I thought you were lying about that but… it seems not” Your father said. You bit on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from saying something snarky in return. Luckily you kept yourself composed. “Well, your mother’s upstairs in bed, it’s late so we can catch up in the morning. Why don’t you come inside and settle in?”

“Sounds great” You said quickly, stepping inside and pulling Richie in with you.

“Your sister’s room is all made up for her, but yours was turned into a guest room” Your dad told you. Richie noticed your hand tense in his.

“That’s alright. Richie can have it and I’ll make up the couch-”

“Nonsense it’s a queen sized bed you’ll both be fine” Your dad said. He wandered off into the kitchen, probably for his glass of water that he’d brought to bed with him for as long as you could remember. “Just keep it safe” He called. You turned to Richie with a wince on your features.

“I’m sorry” You whispered. “I can make up a bed on the floor and you can sleep on the mattress-”

“I don’t mind, it’s fine y/n” Richie chuckled. “It’s just a bed. I’ve spent the night drunk in your dorm, remember?” You smiled awkwardly and nodded. “It’ll be fine” he assured you.

“Okay, let’s go then” You breathed, and pulled him along with you up the stairs, and down the hall to your room. Richie admired the photos on the wall though he was tugged quickly along by you.

“You have a nice house y/n” He told you, and you let go of his hand to open the door of the room you’d be staying in.

“I don’t live here anymore” Is all you replied with, and the both of you went in. You flicked on the lights and dropped your bag by the door.

Your lips parted at what you saw.

Your once beautifully painted (by you) room had been covered with grey wallpaper. Nothing of your own remained. Not your bed, your desk, your dresser, your bookcase, not a thing. No pictures on the wall, no trinkets left behind when you moved out. It was like you’d been erased from the house.

“y/n?” Richie set his things down and shut the door. “Hey, what is it?” You were silent for a moment, then shook your head and blinked hard to get the tears in your eyes to go away.

“Nothing, it’s nothing don’t worry about it” You said, and pulled back the blankets on the bed to busy yourself.

“You know, if we’re going to make this relationship work, you’re going to have to learn to trust me and confide in me” Richie said, ruffling a hand in your hair playfully. You chuckled quietly and shook your head, getting into one side of the bed.

“I do trust you. I’m fine, really” You told him sincerely, and Richie let it slide, going into his suitcase for something comfortable to change into.

“You don’t want to sleep in pajamas?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“Mm no, I’m already in bed it’s too late to get me out. Bathroom’s right across the hall if you want to change” You told him. RIchie thanked you and left to do so.

You had nearly fallen asleep in the few minutes it took him to change and come back. As soon as he saw you he turned off the lights so you could rest easier. He walked as silently as he could over to you.

“G’night Richie” You mumbled into your pillow as he sunk into the mattress. He laid facing you as you were about to fall asleep.

“Goodnight doll” He replied with a smile before closing his eyes.

You woke up first, and found that you’d rolled closer to Richie overnight, and that your legs had tangled together under the covers. Your face flushed a hot red as you swiftly removed yourself and got out of bed, hoping that this wouldn’t wake him up.

“n/n? You up?” The boy stirred and yawned, using a nickname for you that he hadn’t used before.

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t mean to wake you” You said, but he propped himself up in a sitting position and shook his head dismissively.

“It’s good I was waking up anyways” He told you. You awkwardly stood there and nodded.

“So I was gonna change and go downstairs to see my mom and uh.. Just talk I guess if you’re interested in-”

“I’d be honored to meet your parents officially” He grinned sleepily and you smiled back nervously. Richie got out of bed and stretched, his shirt riding up a little and your curious eyes wandered to the exposed skin momentarily before snapping back up to his face.

“Alright then!” You said too cheerily, before grabbing your clothes and making your escape for the bathroom.

Once behind the closed door you let out a long breath, shaking your head at your reflection in the mirror. “Good luck y/n” You muttered to yourself before stripping out of yesterday’s clothes to put on fresh ones. A simple deep red sweater tucked loosely into a black skirt that stopped a little above your knees. You brushed your hair lazily before leaving the bathroom and walking back into the bedroom. Richie had just pulled his tee shirt on, jumping slightly as you walked in unannounced.

“Jesus babe give a guy a warning” He chuckled, throwing a grey and black patterned flannel over the white tee. Black jeans on his legs and his usual converse on his feet.

“Sorry, I didn’t think to knock” You apologized instantly, and shut the door behind you. Richie shook his head dismissively, packing away the clothes he’d worn last night to bed. “You good?” You asked him, a simple double check that the plan was still on, that he was still okay with it.

“Course I am doll” Richie grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulders as the both of you headed out of the room and down the steps. “I’m with my best girl for the holidays, why wouldn’t I be?” You chuckled as you descended the steps together, your hand reaching up to hold onto the wrist that he’d hung over your shoulder.

“I’m so glad I get to spend Christmas with you” You gushed romantically, fluttering your eyelashes up towards him. Richie smiled, his eyes catching your father in the living room.

“I’m glad I get to spend it with you as well, love” He told you, dropping a feather light kiss on the top of your head. Your cheeks flushed pink automatically, and your father locked eyes on the both of you.

“Good morning y/n. Richie” He nodded to either of you before picking up the newspaper next to him and skimming through the pages.

“Where’s mom? I was hoping to catch up with her, and introduce her to Richie” Your arm wound behind his waist as you spoke, and you made sure your father didn’t miss the action.

“In the kitchen. Preparing breakfast” He said, already looking back down to whatever article was so interesting to him. You nodded and walked off without another word, Richie staying in step right next to you.

“Is she like him?” He whispered lowly so only you could hear. You looked up at him with a wince.

“Worse” You whispered back, just as you stepped into the kitchen area. “Mom!” Your expression changed completely into a large smile that Richie saw right through, but he played along as the woman at the stove turned to the both of you.

“Well, good morning dear” She said with her own fake smile. “Who might this gentleman be?”

“Mom, this is Richie, my boyfriend” The word sounded strange rolling off your tongue, but the lie came with ease.

“Hello ma’am, it’s nice to meet you” Richie said, pulling away from you to shake hands with your mother.

“The same, I’m sure” Your mother spoke inquisitively, like she already didn’t trust the polite boy shaking her hand. “Well, sit down you two you’re just in time for coffee and breakfast sandwiches” She released Richie’s hand and returned to the stove. He gave you a look,having realized there was no reunion between you and your mother, which he thought was strange seeing that you’ve been away for months, and you’d barely received a second glance from the woman.

“Sounds amazing” Richie forced out the words, taking your hand and pulling a chair out for you at the table. The both of you sitting next to each other with your hands intertwined on the tabletop.

“Too bad you missed a lot of amazing family meals” You said to him, though your eyes told him otherwise. You caught the way his shoulders shook but he kept his chuckle silent.

“I’m sure I did. I’m happy to have this one with you though” He told you, reaching his empty hand out to hold yours between both of his. Your face grew hot immediately, and you smiled sweetly at him. All this new contact was going to make your face an actual tomato.

“Yeah, me too” You said softly.

“Alright lovebirds eat up” Your mother broke off the moment as she slid two plates onto the table. “If you want coffee you better get it yourself” She told you.

“You want some? I’ll make it” You offered him, about to move but he tugged you back to your seat.

“No it’s fine, don’t leave” You giggled and shook your head at his play-clinginess.

“Mm’kay” You hummed, and began to eat your breakfast.

“So, how long has it been since you started dating?” Your mother questioned. You opened your mouth to speak but Richie beat you to it.

“It’ll be six months January eighth” He told her breezily. Shooting a smile your way as well. You smiled back at him as your mother nodded behind a cup of coffee.

“I wasn’t aware it was so…” The woman’s eyes wandered to your conjoined hands. “Serious” You shrugged nonchalantly, squeezing onto Richie’s hand for a moment.

“I knew it the moment I saw her” Richie continued.

“Oh? You’re a believer in love at first sight?” Your mother asked, almost disapprovingly.

“I wasn’t, no” He admitted. “I actually saw her in the library before classes started. She was uh… she was trying to reach a book on a shelf too high for her… shortie” You nudged his ribs gently as he chuckled to himself. “And well, I told my buddy next to me that I was going to go ask her out and he said ‘no way, not in a million years’ and at that point there was no going back” He shrugged. “I walked over, asked her what book she was getting- it was To Kill a Mockingbird, I remember- and I got it for her”

You were staring at him with the roundest doe eyes, wondering how he could come up with such a detailed, and quite frankly romantic, backstory. Even your mom was smiling at the things he was saying.

“Yeah well, after that I held it over her head so she still couldn’t reach and told her if she wanted it she’d have to go on a date with me” You and your mom chuckled.

It was like he was telling a true memory that you two shared, though it was as made up as Cinderella.

“And she agreed” Richie looked over at you, eyes staring into yours so intensely you felt butterflies unleash in your chest.

“Best first date of my life” You commented softly, and the two of you smiled at each other.

“Well wasn’t that just a sickeningly sweet story?” You jumped at the voice, hand letting go of Richie’s as you turned to see your sister, y/s/n, there in the doorway. You stiffened, and pulled your hand away from Richie’s. “Morning, y/n” She said, a smirk tugging on the end of her lip. “How are you dear?”

“I’m wonderful” You forced out. “And you?” She just hummed in a high pitched sound that told you she was doing much better than you, before she walked into the kitchen to hug your mother.

“I’ve missed you mama” She said, kissing the woman’s cheek and making her chuckle.

“I’ve missed you too my darling” She responded. Richie snatched your hand back into his. You looked over at him, and he barely shot you a glance before staring towards your mother and sister.

“It’s just lovely that you can be reunited” Richie said, his voice steady but his eyes sharp. He then turned to you, smiling warmly.

“You still want to go to that breakfast cafe you told me about on the way here? I wasn’t exactly satisfied”

Your mouth opened but it took a few moments for words to actually be formed.

“Yeah, pancakes sound amazing” You finally managed to say, and Richie grinned widely at you, pressing his lips against your cheek then tugging you up to stand, holding your hand all the way back upstairs to the privacy of your room. “Rich!” You hissed out quietly and smacked his chest with your now free hand. “You’re going to get me into trouble!” You scolded, pulling on your boots to distract yourself. Truth be told, you felt a rush seeing him so blankly put your mother in her place.

“What’s wrong with that love?” He winked, and you rolled your eyes as he grabbed both of your coats from the closet. “I figured we should go somewhere secluded to talk about all this” Richie told you, waving a hand between you both. You nodded slightly in agreement.

You never did come up with the terms and conditions of your false relationship.

You were sat next to each other at the breakfast bar of a small diner you’d grown up eating at. Most of the time it was just you, every once in awhile a friend of yours would join you. This usually wasn’t the case. But it was nice to share the calm coffee-smelling setting with Richie.

There was a steaming cup of coffee being held between your palms in hope of warming yourself up. Richie hadn’t ordered anything, just sat as you took slow slips of your drink.

“Well, I guess I’m sorry if I fucked everything up already” He said through a sigh. You shook your head softly.

“You didn’t. I promise” You replied sincerely. “And even if you had, at least we could go back to Maine quicker” Richie chuckled, taking your mug to have a sip.

“This is disgusting” He muttered, handing it back to you. “But anyways, just tell me the boundaries and I’d happily oblige”

“No we don’t have to do that, it won’t be natural and it’s got to look natural” Richie nodded in understanding.

“So I can do whatever I want?” He asked, a playful smirk pulling on his lips. You almost rolled your eyes, but ended up shrugging a shoulder.

“Honestly, nothing you do can surprise me at this point. Knock yourself out” You said, taking a long sip of your hot chocolate. Leaving Richie to have a very amused look on his face.

“Well that almost sounds like a challenge sweetheart” You winked.

“Happy Holidays Tozier”

After finishing your drink you buttoned up your coat and pulled your beanie over your head and headed out of the diner. Richie shoved his hands down into his coat pockets as you began to walk back to the house. It was a block away and pretty chilly, but not unmanageable.

“Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve” You sighed. “I hope it… I just hope it goes well” Richie smiled down at you, taking a hand out of his pocket to sling it over your shoulders, hand hanging loosely against your chest.

“It’ll go fine, pretty sure I promised you already that it’d all go fine” He said in a relaxed tone.

“I think I’m gonna need a Christmas miracle to pull that off”

“Babe, I am your Christmas miracle” Richie said, causing you to snort in laughter, your eyes full of delight as you began to hiccup in between your loud bursts of giggles. “What? Why are you laughing so much?” He asked, offended by the way you found amusement in his words.

“I’m just- confused- at how- you think- you’re a miracle” You managed to say in between hiccups. Richie unconsciously began to rub your back with the hand that had been around your shoulders.

“I’m hurt y/n. Hurt” You rolled your eyes, barely comprehending he was still rubbing circles on your back to soothe your hiccups. “You’re the only fake girlfriend I’ve ever given my whole heart of fake love to, and you just turn around and stab me in the back like that…. Yikes I don’t think I want to give you a present anymore…”

“No!” You yelped. “I’m sorry! I- take it back!” You hiccuped again.

“Too bad, you’ve already made the wound” He held a hand over his chest dramatically, and all you could do was laugh at his antics.

“You’re so weird Richie Tozier”

“You’re so amazing y/n l/n” He responded mockingly, earning a soft nudge of your elbow in his ribs. As well as a quiet ‘shut up’ as you looked down to hide your blush.

It was like the chemistry between you two didn’t even need to be faked. And it didn’t. But you didn’t really know that yet.

Back at the house, things were mostly died down. Luckily you hadn’t run into your mother, so you were peacefully reading on the couch, your legs thrown over Richie’s lap for show as he just sat there quietly with you. Every once in a while he’d do something to distract you, either to be annoying, or someone would pass through the room and it’d be cute.

“This is kind of fun” He hummed, and your eyes didn’t even flicker towards him, too invested in your book.

“Mm” Was all the response you gave him. Richie pouted, his lip sticking out as he wrapped his arms around your middle. A silent beg for more attention. And the funny part was you couldn’t even tell if this was a part of his act, or if this was just him being his usual clingy self. “What Rich?” You asked softly, still not looking towards him but scooting closer as he tugged on you.

“I need attention” He said blatantly, and you laughed quietly, finally giving him a short glance.

“Really? What’re you, six?”

“Uh, duh? Have you met me?” You laughed again, and upon hearing the footsteps of someone on the stairs, moved over fully to sit in his lap, leaning your head back against the front of his shoulder and continued reading again. Richie’s hold around your waist tightened, and he set his chin in your hair.

“Oh y/n you’re home” Your father spoke, but you didn’t say anything, pretending to be far too into your book. Even though now you were far to focused on Richie’s secure hold his arms encircled tightly around your stomach. “Will you be joining us for dinner? Your sister is coming. With her fiance too”

You stiffened, and Richie felt it instantly.

“Fiance?” You repeated, turning to look at your Dad. “Since when did she get proposed to?”

“Since… I’m not sure. Months ago I would assume. She didn’t tell you? In… perhaps it was September?” Your eyebrows scrunched together as you shook your head.

“No, she failed to mention that” You replied flatly.

“Well it’s lovely you’re meeting her husband-to-be around such a joyous season” Your father said, but your face remained blank and emotionless.

“Yeah. That’s great” You said. Richie’s arms loosened, his hand rubbing slightly on your hip as he stared at you. But your eyes were locked on your father. WHo didn’t even say another word before leaving the room.

You groaned quietly, sinking against Richie and setting your book aside on the cushion. His arms tightened again, not really caring that no one was there to see the display.

“Only her. Only she would get engaged and not tell me. Hell, even my father told me and- ahg!” You could have ripped your hair out you were so annoyed and fed up with the way the people in this household treated you.

“Hey, calm down a bit” Richie spoke softly. “You don’t want to be at that stupid wedding anyways”

“I don’t think I’ll get the chance”

“No one can make you go” He replied. “And don’t. I know you don’t want to be there, why go if you don’t care? Why go if no one else cares?” You sighed again, only slumping further down against him. Your body almost sliding right off couch. Richie chuckled, lifting you up to sit on his lap again. Your swiveled sideways, planting your butt between his leg and the arm rest, your legs tucked up over his, and head still lying on his shoulder.

“You’re right” You huffed out of annoyance.

“Well don’t sound so surprised dearest, I come up with the best decisions ever you know” You chuckled quietly, your eyes falling shut.

“Uh huh, of course you do babe” You replied, reaching up and pinching his cheek jokingly. Richie rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious. Remember that time I put Pop Tarts in the microwave and they turned out just like they would in the toaster?” You let out a long breath.

“I was so disappointed in you that day” You said quietly, and Richie laughed. His fingers running up and down your arm. You found yourself leaning further against him. “For a fake boyfriend you’re good to cuddle with” You whispered as quietly as you could, making Richie smile big, though you couldn’t see. He pressed a feather light kiss to the crown of your head before cradling the back of your head in his palm, keeping your resting against him

“That’s nice of you to say” He murmured, and you didn’t respond. Richie looked down at you, resting still and peacefully on top of him. “y/n?” He called quietly, but again there was no response. “y/n/n?”

“Mmph?” Richie chuckled, realizing you were falling asleep.

“Hey don’t go to sleep, we’re having dinner soon” He said, but you didn’t seem to care as you nuzzled right back against him again. “y/n/n I just said-”

“Fuck off” You muttered sleepily, a hand grabbing a fistful of his shirt to keep yourself in place against him. Richie couldn’t help his quiet laughter as you snuggled in, already dozing off. “Just let me sleep through the dinner, I don’t care about it anyways”

“y/n/n….” Richie sighed. He could tell your family was rough, but he didn’t want you to give up on them. Especially not around Christmas. But as he glanced down to your nearly asleep form, relaxed, eyelashes casting shadows over your pink-from-the-cold cheeks, lips parted and chest rising and falling softly against his, he couldn’t even find it in himself to say otherwise. “Alright doll” He murmured, running his fingers through your hair. “Goodnight”

It was the middle of the day.

You woke up again but not on the couch. You were in bed, the lights off and the shades down to keep the room dark. Your arms were wrapped around something warm and soft and you buried your face deeper against the pleasant feeling.

“Rich” You hummed delightly, thinking that it was him you were clinging to.

“Yes dear?” Richie’s voice replied from the other side of the room. Your eyes fluttered open and you sat up, seeing him sitting on the floor, a comic book in his lap and a can of chips next to him. Looking back at the bed, you realized you were cuddling onto a pillow.

Awkward.

“What’re you doing on the floor?” You asked, yawning at the end of your sentence. “And what time is it?”

“A little past nine o’clock and you were comfortable when we came up so I stayed down here so you’d sleep” He responded, popping a chip into his mouth. You nodded, laying back on the bed and pulling the pillow against your chest.

You felt silly having thought it was Richie.

“You alright?” Richie asked after you were quiet for a long period of time.

“Yeah” Your voice whispered, eyes squinting towards the ceiling. Small glowing green stars were stuck up there, and while it seemed it was another life that a little girl had jumped on her bed to put them there, it felt like a distant memory. A girl who loved space but was afraid of the dark. A girl who wanted adventure but feared the future to come. That girl hadn’t changed through all the years it’s been.

You sat up suddenly, looking down at Richie who still sat in his place on the floor by the end of the bed.

“Richie” You whispered, though he was already looking at you with concern. Your face held an expression he’d never seen before, and couldn’t quite place. And Richie Tozier prided himself in his ways of reading people like an open book. Which you always had been. “Will you come up here with me” Your voice shook in it’s hushed murmurs. He nodded, brows furrowed as he climbed up next to you, leaving his snack and comic behind. You laid back under the blanket again, eyes rounded almost while you watched him settle in next to you.

“It’s alright” He finally spoke, sliding his glasses off and folding them to sit on the bedside table. He didn’t say anything else, just laid down and got himself situated. Then opened up an arm, a silent offer for you to cuddle up against him. Your eyes stayed on his as you anxiously shuffled closer, until your chest was pressed to his. Richie smiled softly at you, his arm wrapping over you to rub your back gently. You relaxed, breaking off your gaze and pressing your face into his warm shirt

“Thank you” You murmured, eyelashes beginning to flutter shut with the overwhelming sleepiness.

“If you wanted me in bed babe you could’ve just asked” He mumbled, lips brushing over your forehead as he spoke. You chuckled quietly against him, shaking your head.

“You’re something else Richie Tozier” You whispered, breathing slowing down as he noticed.

“Mm I try”

“No, you’re something else to me” Your voice softened greatly and your hands blindly pressed into his chest, pillowing your cheek. “I dunno what it is yet… but there’s something…. Different”

“What’s different?” Richie’s heart thundered so hard he was sure that you could hear it, much less feel it against your damn face that was right there. But if you did, you didn’t mention it to him.

“I dunno…” You yawned, on the edge of falling asleep. “But it’s good…. So far I think”

And like that, you were out like a lightswitch. Leaving Richie to wonder if he’d made his feelings for you too obvious. That maybe he’d put too many cards on the table. Maybe you’d figured out he wasn’t acting in this ‘relationship’ anymore.

Perhaps, he thought, you’d figured out he loved you.

The next morning he woke up alone. And it made him sadder than he would’ve thought, but tiredly sat up to get ready for the day anyways. The distant sound of the shower running echoed into the room, and he figured that’s where you were.

All throughout his morning routine (which was just changing into jeans and a sweatshirt) the memory of last night played in his mind. Holding you felt so nice, but you wanting him to hold you was even nicer. A goofy grin was permanently imprinted onto his face.

When there were quick knocks on the bedroom door, Richie figured it was you. He was unpleasantly surprised to see your sister on the other side of the door.

“y/s/n?” He questioned, brows creasing as he was instantly skeptical by her presence.

“Richie, right?” She asked, a sickeningly sweet smile on her lips. Must run in the fuckin’ family, Richie thought.

“Yeah” He stated blankly. Waiting for her to tell him whatever it was she came to the room for. He bent slightly, eyebrows raised as he shook his head. “Well…?”

“Oh, sorry, your glasses just make your eyes so large it’s… almost hard to look away”

Richie felt sick.

“Yeah. Called coke bottle lenses. I’m fucking blind like that” Richie said in a bored tone. y/s/n giggled almost flirtatiously. He just wanted to slam the door in her face. “Anyways, I was hoping to find my sister. Where is she?” She stepped closer as if to peek into the room, and Richie practically flinched at how close she was to him.

“Ahem” A voice cough from behind them. y/s/n spun around to see you standing there, a towel around your body and on your head. Your eyes set in a pointed glare at your sister. “y/s/n” Her name came off your tongue like venom. You looked up to Richie, your expression brightening as you broke into a grin. Even reaching up to press your lips to his cheek. “Richie” You greeted much more sweetly.

“Hey, babe” Richie’s eyes followed your body as you moved into the bedroom, ignoring y/s/n as she tried to trail after you. “Let’s wait till she has some clothes on” He said with a smirk, and promptly shut the door.

“Ugh, sorry about her” You said, rifling through your suitcase for something nice to wear. It was Christmas Eve after all.

“It’s fine. And take your time finding at outfit doll” You turned your head towards him, giving him a look. But Richie just smirked, putting his hands up in innocence. “What? Can’t a guy admire his girlfriend’s nice bod?” As much as you wanted to smack him, you just pursed your lips and chuckled.

“Would you at least do this doll a favor and spin around so I can get changed?”

“Fine fine. But don’t blame me when I take a peek” He said, turning to face the door while you changed into your outfit of the day.

“Take a peek Tozier, and it’s the last thing you’d ever see” You told him with a laugh.

“Well that’d be alright” He said honestly, but you just laughed, stepping into a maroon colored dress, and slipping your arms through it’s long sleeves.

“You are such a player Richard, I don’t know why I’m dating you” You joked.

“Because you’re madly in love with me and wouldn’t find this kind of happiness with anyone else” He cracked back, and you giggled again, trying to zip up the rest of your dress.

“Hey, do a girl a solid and come zip me up”

“With pleasure!” Richie grinned, finally turning around and coming over to you. There wasn’t even much space left to be zipped, but he did it anyways. “You must have little arms” You rolled your eyes, turning to him to smack at his chest playfully.

“Thank you” You said bittersweetly, and completed your look with a simple black scarf. “Did y/s/n tell you what she wanted from me? Cause last time she needed me it was to cover for her while she snuck off to some party senior year” Richie shook his head.

“No, I sorta shut the door on her. But in my defense, I thought you were gonna be naked”

“Richie” You scolded, but couldn’t help your laugh. He said the dumbest things but it always made you laugh. You took your hair out of it’s towel and dried it off quickly. Deciding to let it air dry rather using a dryer.

“Do we really have to leave this room?” He muttered as you headed towards the door.

“Yes, Richie. We already avoided everyone yesterday” You answered. “And it’s Christmas Eve, we can suck it up, right?”

“No” He pouted in response. You reached for the doorknob, but leaned up to whisper in his ear.

“Fake a smile and spend some time with us today, and I’ll let you grab my ass” Richie’s mouth dropped open.

“You mean it?” He asked with hopeful eyes. You laughed and nodded, pecking his cheek and heading out of the room.

“Have I ever let you down babe?” You called, and Richie followed after you.

The two of you sat at the breakfast table, making small talk with your bowls of cereal and cups of coffee. It was comfortable, easy. Probably because it was just the two of you.

“Well, just look at you cute lovebirds” Your sister came strolling in, making your smile drop just enough for Richie to notice.

“Mm it’s all him” You responded easily, playing with a few curls on Richie’s head.

“That’s where you’re wrong doll-”

“Alright alright before you start making out” Your sister rolled her eyes. “I wanted you to meet Henry!” And as if on cue, a man walked into the room. A sly sort of smile on his face.

“Hey” He stared at you as he walked over to your sister, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her against him. “I’m Henry” You nodded awkwardly, glancing at Richie then back at your sister and her fiance.

“Well I’m y/n, and this is my boyfriend Richie” You lied with ease, your hand slipping into his hand and just as easily intertwined your fingers together.

“Hm. Cute” Was all that the man replied with.

“So how long have you been together?” Richie asked, breaking the tension.

“Few months now” y/s/n shrugged.

“How many?” Richie inquired again. Both seemed to think about it for a few moments, like they really had no idea.

“Well Rich and I have been together for five months. Almost six!” You said happily, leaning your head against his shoulder. Richie grinned, putting his arm around you. “Best five-almost-six-months of my life” You cooed, looking up to Rich and fluttering your eyelashes.

He fucking swooned.

“Love of my life” He added when he found his voice, and pressed a soft kiss to your head, lips lingering there for a moment before squeezing your shoulders. Your cheeks flushed pink, and you couldn’t even speak.

“Cute” Your sister spoke boredly. “Anyways. The both of you are invited to the wedding” She said, and like that, she was pulling ‘Henry’ out of the room. You grinned up at Richie.

“That’s so sweet. Especially considering when we have our fake wedding, neither of them are coming”

“Oh so we’re getting married now are we?” He smirked back at you, and you gave him a big goofy smile.

“Well of course we are, go big or go home. I hope you want kids” You winked playfully, and patted his cheek before taking your bowl and mug to the sink.

“Only with you. We’d make some gorgeous babies” You giggled as he brought his dishes up with you as well, both of you cleaning them.

“Is that so?” You raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but Richie just nodded, pursing his lips.

“Oh yeah, with your body and dollface? Beautiful kiddos” You felt a hot blush on your cheeks. No one was around, no one could hear his commentary, this was just Richie and you. Not some relationship you were trying to put on display.

“Yeah? What about your freckles and curls?” You asked, booping his nose with a soapy finger. Richie chuckled but shook his head.

“Not a chance doll, the only thing they’d get from me is awful eyesight” He said, looking away from you. But you grinned, shaking your head.

“I don’t think so Tozier. I see a little girl with curly little ringlets and big ol’ coke bottle lenses on her slumpy little nose” You fantasized yours and Richie’s child as you dried out your bug with a rag. “And she’d have freckles scattered on her like stars. And the prettiest brown doe eyes” You got lost in your own thoughts after that, silently keeping them to yourself.

The girl would be a genius, like Richie. She’d be outgoing and funny and charismatic, but also sweet and gentle and kind to all of those around her.

“Don’t think too hard about me doll, I’m not exactly in a baby making place in my life right now” Richie joked after you’d been quiet for a few minutes. You shook your head, forgetting the fictitious daughter you’d made up in your mind.

You looked down to see the dishes done, and smiled up at Richie for a reason completely unknown to him.

“What?” He asked curiously as your grin only grew. “What? What’s that look?” You bit your lip and shook your head.

“You’re just fun, Tozier” You said simply, and walked out to the living room. Richie smiled to himself for a moment before following after you.

The day was simple, just decorating the house and the Christmas tree, which didn’t involve too much drama. You and Richie mostly stuck together, scattering tinsel here and here and hanging random baubles on the tree.

Currently Richie was on the roof outside, the beanie on his head being the only winter gear on him as he hung the multi colored lights up.

“Rich?” You called from where you stood in the driveway, teeth chattering and body quivering every few minutes. “Are you almost done? It doesn’t seem safe up there”

“I’m fine babe leave the work to the man!” He called back with a laugh that made you roll your eyes. You were certain that he’d get himself killed one day, and today may just be the day.

“Yeah well if you die on Christmas Eve I’m gonna be hella pissed!” Richie just laughed as he pinned the last end of the cord.

“Finished!” He yelled victoriously, holding his arms up in the air with delight.

“Okay that’s great just please come down” You begged, holding the end of the ladder steady so he could come back to ground level. Richie laughed some more, in fact the whole way down he was laughing his ass off.

“You care so damn much about me huh?” He asked, yanking his hat off and plopping it on your head, tugging it over your ears. “Your ears are all pink could you please not die of hypothermia?” You giggled as he fussed over you, the both of you taking the ladder back into the garage.

“I’m wearing a scarf” You informed him.

“Sure, for fashion. That’ll provide you no warmth whatsoever out in the wild” He retorted.

“So? This hat was the only thing you were wearing and now you don’t even have it” You pointed out. But Richie only shrugged.

“I care more about you than I do myself” He said simply. Like it was obvious. Like you were just supposed to know. You stood there in surprise, watching him walk back towards the house.

“W-wait… Rich wait!” You called, rushing after him. He paused at the door, turning for you to catch up. “What the hell? Were you serious?” You asked, eyes wide with curious and heart beating so hard in your chest you weren’t cold anymore.

“Yeah I was serious” Richie replied, offended that you’d second guess his word. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to find the right words to say and not just the word vomit that you often backfired to.

But you didn’t get the chance to say a thing as the door opened, revealing your mother.

“Well? Are you two coming with us to look at the neighborhood lights? It’s going to be dark soon” She informed you, and you nodded your head quickly.

“Yeah, yeah we’ll be right there” You finally spoke, and the two of you went inside. “Rich-” Your voice was soft but he spoke before you could finish.

“y/n/n don’t freak out about it really it’s not that big of a deal” He told you quietly as you both grabbed your coats from the closet. You looked at him with your round eyes, staring at him intently, and Richie held your gaze in silence for a moment. The overwhelming urge to lean down and kiss you almost unbearable to handle, but he managed somehow.

“I’m not freaking out I just… no one’s ever said anything like that before I was just… just thrown off is all” You told him in a whisper while you slipped on your coat. Richie looked at you sadly, before gently kissing your forehead and putting on his own coat.

“You should be told that every day y/n” He told you. You stared at him for a moment again, before laughing nervously and hooking your arm around his. Blushing hard while pulling him out to the car.

“Something else, Tozier” You repeated yourself from last night. “That’s what you are” He chuckled, letting you into the back seat of your mother’s minivan. The both of you clambered to the back row, your sister and Henry sitting in the middle and your parents up front.

“I’ve never actually done this before” Richie said, and you looked at him with surprise.

“Really? Never?” Richie nodded.

“Thatsa what I done said” He told you in one of his voices, making you giggle.

“Well I hope you like it then” You told him.

The drive was quiet, besides the Christmas music that your parents were blasting. You were cozily sat draped in your coat and Richie’s arm that had sat casually around your shoulder, your bare fingers messing with his open gloved hand. Your sister was in front of you whispering things to Henry that would consistently make you gag but you tried your best to ignore it and just admire all the lights and decorations. While Richie was about to fall asleep right there against you.

“I like those ones” You said, tugging on Richie’s hand that you’d been tracing over. He set his chin on your head, looking out the window to wear you had pointed to. It was a simple set up, but it was still pretty.

“Mhm” He mumbled, gently tugging you closer against him. You melted right against him, smiling softly now through the fogged glass. A shiver ran down your spine, causing you to snuggle deeper against Richie.

Fucking shit, he nearly spoke his thoughts aloud, but somehow managed to keep his mouth shut. “Are you cold?” He asked instead, already tugging off his gloves to pull them over your hands. Just like earlier when he’d stuck his cap on your head. It was still there.

“Thanks” You murmured, giving him a small smile and revealing your blushing cheeks. Richie smiled back, holding eye contact with you for a few moments that only deepened your blush. Your tongue ran over your suddenly dry lips and you found your eyes flickering down to look at his own lips. You wondered if they were as plump and soft as they appeared.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked back up at him, staring with absolute curiosity through the thickness of your eyelashes. It was silent between you two, Richie’s eyes wider than usual behind his lenses. The arm he’d had around you loosening as his hand reached for your cheek. You leaned up just barely as his fingers brushed the bottom of your jaw.

But your sister spoke up before anything else could happen. “Mother could we go home for hot chocolate this year? I don’t really feel like the diner” You turned quickly away from Richie, flustered and face hot.

“No diner?” You questioned. “Why not? We go every year, it’s got the best coco in town” Your voice was quiet but pleading to stick to the tradition.

“Yeah but it’s always so cold” y/s/n whined. Your brows knit together.

“It’s winter y/s/n. What the hell did you expect?” You snapped, and she gasped like you’d offended her family name.

“Mother! Did you hear the disrespect?” Your sister complained. You groaned at her ridiculousness, about to say something else (along the lines of shut the fuck up) but your mother interjected.

“Now girls, I think we can handle a little change in the year. There’s coco at home that you can have y/n” She decided. “See? Compromise”

“That’s not compromise-!”

“Obey your mother y/n” Your father said sternly, making you instantly sit back in your seat and shut up.

“It’s alright love, I’ll make you my special hot chocolate” Richie told you with a big goofy grin that brightened your mood just a little.

“I didn’t know you had your own hot chocolate recipe” You mused, but he winked and nodded, his smile ever so present.

“Of course I do” You shrugged with a chuckle, happy by the offer and let him take your gloved hand.

The glove itself was about three times the size of your hand, leaving quite a bit of space in the end of the cotton fingers, but you didn’t mind one bit. And neither did Richie.

Sharing jackets are for pussy boyfriends, he chuckled to himself at his own thoughts while he looked at you in his hat and gloves.

“Well that totally sucked. Probably my favorite Christmas tradition, completely ruined by stupid y/s/n and her stupid fucking fiance and my stupid fucking parents-!”

“y/n/n” Richie warned you of your raising volume in your voice, and while you didn’t care as much as you should’ve, you sighed and quietened down.

“I’m just sorry. I’ve wasted your time with something so stupid and I feel awful” You pulled Richie’s hat off your head and put his gloves in it as well, handing his things back to him.

“Don’t say that, I’m having a great time with you y/n. I know it sucks for you and I’m sorry I wish I could do something about it but don’t be sorry to me” You pursed your lips together as you hung up your coat, then hung up Richie’s as well.

“Come on, you owe me coco” You said with a slightly faked smile. Richie looked down at your hand as he walked next to you, contemplating whether or not to take it in his. It wasn’t like he hadn’t held your hand, it wasn’t like he hadn’t held your hand before today even. It just seemed… different this time.

He felt vulnerable.

He hated that feeling. And it was one he hadn’t had to deal with for what felt like years. Surely not since middle school, dealing with Henry Bowers and his gang of pussies. Back when he got shit everyday and he had to go home to the lousiest of families. Or most often to an empty house.

“Rich?” Your hand slid into his to gain his attention, having noticed his eyes had glazed over and he’d drifted off somewhere in his head. “You alright?” Your fingers slipped into the spaces between his like it was second nature.

Richie smiled at you. “Course it is darlin’ I’m just thinking” He didn’t lie, because he knew he’d never be able to lie to you, but he didn’t tell the whole truth either.

“Well that’s dangerous for you” You chuckled with a soft smile, causing him to roll his eyes but he couldn’t help but smile also. “Last time I saw you think that hard, you asked me what was so wrong about putting the milk in before the cereal” You said before bursting into a fit of giggles.

“Hey! I trusted you with an honest question and all you did was hit me with a shoe!” Richie exclaimed as you stood in the kitchen. Only fueling your laughter. Your hands over your tummy as you bent over slightly.

“I was worried! What kind of crazy person even asks that?” Richie rolled his eyes in response again, looking around your cabinets for the hot chocolate mix.

“Where’s your cocoa powder? I’m gonna make you that drink” He said. You got up on your tiptoes to retrieve it from the cabinet, and handed it to him, along with two mugs.

“What idiot puts the milk in first-!’

“Alright alright I get it!” Richie clapped a hand over your mouth while dumping the powder into both of the mugs. You sat yourself up on the counter while he did his thing. Which didn’t seem special, seeing that he was filling the ceramic mugs with water and putting them in the microwave.

“You do realize it’s not a ‘special recipe’ when you do the same damn thing everyone else does?” You asked, using sarcastic hand quotes.

“Shut up, and be nice” Richie waved you off. You put your hands up in surrender.

“Hey, if you need the validation so bad, I’m sure it’s delicious” You laughed quietly to yourself but didn’t poke at him any more. When the mic beeped he took the mugs back out and watched as he stirred the contents till it was properly mixed.

You found it amusing how Richie moved around the kitchen like he knew what he was doing. Back in Maine he didn’t ever do any of the cooking or preparing, you were always the one doing it. Not that you minded, you liked making meals for the both of you. But there was something about Richie in the kitchen making the two of you a warm drink that made you smile.

He gave you a big grin as he handed you his finished creation.

The mug was completely full, added with a whipped cream mountain and sprinkled over in cinnamon. You took it carefully from his hands, ignoring as best you could the way your fingers brushed together.

“Wow Rich, this is a masterpiece” You said, and he clinked his mug against yours.

“Bottoms up babe, there’s a little scotch in it” Your brows raised, dropping the cup from where you were about to start drinking. “I’m kidding!” Richie laughed at how surprised you were, jaw dropped open and eyes wide. You took a long drink, instantly liking the taste of it on your tongue. Richie grinned as you ended up gettingnwhipped cream on your nose.

“It’s good!” You exclaimed, and Richie looked at you with surprise.

“What? You weren’t expecting it to be perfect?” You chuckled quietly and took another drink.

“Well sure, but… but damn Richie”

“I’ll bet it’s not the first time you say that doll” He winked, and made you laugh (but also choke a bit on your drink).

“Hey! Can we watch all the dirty talk please? This is a family household” Your sister called from the living room. You rolled your eyes and took another sip, Richie did as well. Your eyes meeting over the cups. You smiled into your mug, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks over the simple eye contact. “Hey, you guys coming out here to watch a Christmas movie?”

“Can we not-”

“We’d love to!” Richie cut you off, and you gave him a slight glare. “Oh come on, who doesn’t love a Christmas classic?” Richie asked, quirking an eyebrow and you sighed.

“Fine, whatever. But you’re gonna owe me a lifetime of this hot chocolate” You told him, heading towards the living room.

“Alright, seems like a fair trade” He agreed, trailing behind you.

“Ah ah ah!” y/s/n called out, making you jolt and a little splash of your cocoa to splash on you.

“Seriously y/s/n what the heck-”

“Shut up! Look!” She pointed above you and both you and Richie looked up.

There, on the little doorway from the kitchen to the living room above you, was a little green plant tied together with red ribbon.

“Mistletoe” You and Richie mumbled at the same time. Your eyes met awkwardly and you felt your throat tighten.

“Well are you gonna kiss or not? You’ve been all over each other this is just an excuse” Your sister said, looking at the two of you curiously. “Well?”

You opened your mouth to speak, your face red and eyes wide as you stared up at Richie. No words were coming out, and he was just looking from you to the mistletoe, over and over like he couldn’t believe it.

“I mean it’s a little awkward in front of my sister” You finally babbled out, and continued to ramble on about how you thought it was inappropriate. Richie was chuckled quietly at how cute you looked when you rambled.

“I mean if nobody’s kissin’ her” You spun around, seeing Henry walking down the stairs, a big grin on his face that made you feel like shrinking down to the floor. “y/n if you need a little Christmas kiss I’d be happy to supply”

Richie grimaced, his hand turning your waist to spin back towards him. You gasped quietly out of shock and stared up at him.

“Rich-”

In seconds he’d pulled you against him and pressed his lips down against yours in a quick kiss. Your eyes hadn’t even fully shut when he’d pulled away.

“Now there’s a man with balls. I was wondering when you’d show up” Your sister said with a smirk as Henry took his seat next to her. Richie glared over towards them, and took a long drink of his cocoa. You were surprised you hadn’t dropped yours. When he finished, he set it roughly onto the table, and looked back towards your sister’s fiance again.

“Don’t ever fucking talk about my girlfriend like that again” He said, voice darker than anything you’d heard before. But Henry shut up, not even looking over at Richie, who was internally fuming. Your mouth opened and closed, your brain still not processing after his kiss, and now with this, everything was getting jumbled up in your mind. Richie took his mug to the kitchen to put it in the sink, and your feet carried you in after him.

“Richie…” You finally mumbled quietly, putting your now empty mug on the counter. He was staring down at the sink, you standing facing his side as your eyes couldn’t tear away from his. “Look-”

“I’m sorry” He said quietly, avoiding your gaze. “I shouldn’t have done that, well, I shouldn’t have done any of that”

While your heart broke a little at the confession, you tried not to show it.

“I know you’re mad I’m just sorry-”

“Rich I’m not mad” You sighed out of relief, and set your hand over his. “I’m… well I’m flattered” You told him. “I should be thanking you and you think I’m mad?” Richie shrugged, eyes wandering to your small palm over the back of his hand.

“I didn’t want to cross a line” He said, but you just chuckled and shook your head.

“Fuck that, where’s the fun in staying inside the lines?” Richie looked towards you finally, having to look down to actually meet your eyes. A small smile began to tug on his lips.

“Atta girl” He said with a full on grin and he pulled you into his arms for a tight hug. You laughed against his chest and tugged on him to back to the living room.

“Come on, let’s go push their buttons” You said in a soft voice, but the smirk twitching on your lips made him want to laugh. He didn’t, just smiled and nodded, letting you pull him back into the living room.

The both of you took a seat on the sofa, your sister and Henry sitting on the other one while A Christmas Story played on the television set. Neither acknowledged your presence.

But you made a big fuss and moved to snuggle into Richie all the while making as much noise as possible. Richie just calmly wrapped his arms around you as he laid out on the couch, back propped up by the armrest of the sofa. You sitting between his legs and lying against his chest. And to be honest, you were so fucking comfortable like this.

“You good babe?” He asked, and you pulled his arms to be more secure around you.

“Mhm” You hummed delightedly.

You were going to miss this when you went back to Maine. But you wouldn’t admit that aloud.

Your sister and Henry had gone up to bed before the movie had ended. And you had near fallen asleep on Richie, who was only a few minutes away from snoring.

But you were both awake, and well aware of the empty living room. Your parents had been hidden away since you’d gotten home, and it was just you and Richie. No one to perform for, no reason to stay cuddled up in his embrace, none at all.

Right?

Your stomach was doing backflips and your heart was pounding wildly in your chest. Your eyes opened and you took in the surroundings of the darkened room around you, the only light coming from the rolling credits on the tv. You peeked around without moving your head, worried that Richie would shuffle around and leave. Your legs were intertwined, which you hadn’t realized until you saw it. But you still didn’t have the will to remove them. Not even to stretch.

“y/n?” Richie’s mumble caught you off guard. You startled, causing his hold on you to loosen as you sat up enough to look at him.

“I’m awake” You announced, hesitantly and awkwardly. Richie reluctantly sat up, removing his legs from around yours. He yawned and let go of you completely to stretch his arms out above his head.

“We should probably go up to bed, it feels late” He said through his yawn, and you shook your head, still sitting between his legs but facing him now. Not touching at all.

Your heart sank a little in your chest.

“Yeah… yeah I’m tired” You whispered out, looking down at the couch.

“Well go put some pajamas on and when you wake up it’ll be Christmas” He grinned at you crookedly, and brushed his thumb over your chin in a featherlight touch.

“Okay” You climbed off the couch and headed towards the steps. Richie’s brows crinkled slightly and he turned to look at you, still seated on the couch.

“You alright doll?” He asked, noticing your change in demeanor.

“I’m just sleepy” You mumbled, waving at him dismissively.

“y/n” He got up before you could leave. “I know when you’re lying, what’s going on?” You shook your head, looking at your feet.

“Really, I’m out of it cause I’m tired-”

“Bullshit”

“Stop that” You didn’t mean to whisper it out, it just happened, and Richie visibly deflated.

“Come on y/n/n, after these past few days you’re really going to shut me out now? On Christmas Eve?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked him, looking at him with a mix of confusion and hurt in your expression.

“It’s just-” Richie smacked his lips as he tried to think of what to say. The right words Rich, don’t fuck this up, was all he could think. Not to mess up. “You don’t… you don’t feel it?” He ended up murmuring out, his hand reaching out to yours. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest.

“What do you mean Rich” Your voice was still a whisper as you stared at him with big doe eyes that made him melt.

“I just… well I’ve stopped… I’ve stopped acting and I’ve just started enjoying my time with you” Your head tilted to the side, still a little confused by what he was saying. “I’m saying- I’m saying that this isn’t just a game for me anymore, this whole… fake boyfriend thing” He finally admitted aloud.

He felt the relief of getting that off his chest for a mere two seconds. Before he met your eyes again, and he couldn’t read you whatsoever. Suddenly his heart was racing a million miles a minute.

“You’re… you’re saying that… that you…” You couldn’t make out a full sentence and your chest heaved just barely as the realization hit you.

“I’m saying that I’m fucking in love with you y/n” You blinked back tears as he (half frustratedly) confessed. “And I actually like all this dumb hand holding and cuddling shit” A short breathy laugh came past your lips as he rambled on. “And I really was pissed earlier like Jesus that Henry’s a fucking dickbag I swear I’ll kick his teeth in then he won’t be so smug all the time, talking to you like his fiance wasn’t there, like I wasn’t standing right there- fuck I was ready to swing” He grumbled and you just smiled as tears began to fall down your cheeks. “Oh my god you’re crying, I’m sorry I didn’t- I didn’t mean that I didn’t mean to make you cry-”

“God Richie shut the fuck up” You shook your head and wrapped your hand behind his neck, pulling his lips down against yours and effectively shutting the boy up.

He instantly responded, kissing you back gently, and wrapping his arms tightly around your lower back. You were tugged against him in moments, your foot rising off the floor and the other on the tips of your toes so you could reach him. You were kissing him like he was oxygen and you were drowning. Absolutely desperate. Though eventually you had pulled back to take in a sharp breath. Richie smiled at you, at your closed eyes and grinning lips. Your nose bumping against his.

“That was rude, cutting me off like that” He joked, and you opened your eyes only to roll them.

“I’ve been waiting for that too long just for you to start complaining Tozier” You mumbled, lips brushing over his softly. Richie shook his head, raising a hand to cup over your cheek. You bit on your lip as you stared at him, eyes no longer wet but cheeks now stained with your trail of tears. “I love you, Richie” You whispered shakily, but you couldn’t have been more sincere. Richie smiled back at you, his thumb stroking over your cheek gently. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips before pulling you further against him to hug you tightly.

“I love you more doll” He hummed in your ear, and pressed his lips to your temple. “Merry Christmas” You smiled against his shoulder.

“Merry Christmas Trashmouth”

taglist: @high-functioning-fangirl02 @a-l-o-s-e-r-r @fightmebub @trashmouthwheelr @i-heart-movies @awtozier

welp. i’m dead. merry christmas y’all xoxo ~ jordie

#It (2017)#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier fanfiction #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier scenario #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard fanfiction #finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard imagine #finn wolfhard scenario

285 notes · View notes