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#baker street babes
skirt-russell · 2 years
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I’m wondering if someone in the Sherlock fandom can help me? A long time ago I read a fic. It was an AU, and it involved a house that was sort of “alive”. It shifted and was very paranormal. I also slightly remember it being dangerous to be outside, but I could be making that up. It was fairly popular.
Does anyone remember this? Can someone link me? Please and thank you uwu
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grahamfilesstyleguide · 2 months
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Baker Street, Marylebone, City of Westminster, Greater London
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idkyetxoxo · 26 days
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Aemond Targaryen - Shadow
Summary - In the bustling streets of King's Landing, a day of market escapades and a sweet surprise reveal the depth of Aemond's devotion to his wife. Their story defies the whispers and gossip of the realm, proving that true affection flourishes even in the heart of the coldest dragon.
Pairing - Aemond Targaryen x reader
Warnings - None
Word count - 2267
Masterlist for Aemond • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.
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"Aemond, must you always look so miserable?" I teased as we strolled through the bustling markets and lively stalls of King's Landing, my arm looped through his.
He sighed, pulling me closer to his side. "I simply do not understand why we must do this ourselves. If you require anything, you know I can have it brought to you."
"But I enjoy going out myself," I insisted, stopping in front of an elderly woman's stall laden with vibrant dress fabrics and delicate laces.
Aemond frowned, his gaze dropping to my small, but growing bump. "I wish you wouldn't indulge in such whims, especially in your condition," he murmured, resting his hand protectively over our unborn child.
"If you do not start acting like you love me, I swear it, I will start weeping this instant," I threatened with a playful glint in my eye, as I sifted through a roll of golden fabric.
He arched an eyebrow, his tone softening. "I don't need to act like I love you if I already do," he countered, his voice gentle yet firm.
I handed the fabric to the vendor, her gnarled hands accepting it with a nod, and I couldn't help but smile at his words, a warmth spreading through me like the sun breaking through a cloudy sky.
"Well then," I replied, my tone brightening, "I suppose we're in perfect agreement."
"I suppose it's the chaos of the market that unsettles me," Aemond admitted, "I'd rather be certain of your safety." 
I pouted, feeling a pang of guilt at his concern. Leaning in, I pressed a quick, reassuring kiss to his cheek, hoping to lighten his worry.
The vendor soon returned, carefully folding the fabric and handing it back to me. "How much?" I asked, reaching into the small coin pouch at my side.
"For you, Princess, it is free," she said with a sweet, almost maternal smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
I shook my head, a soft laugh escaping my lips. "Nonsense," I replied, pulling out five golden coins and placing them in her hand.
The woman's eyes widened, her expression a mixture of shock and overwhelming gratitude."Oh, thank you, Princess," she said, her voice thick with emotions. "May the gods bless you and the babe."
Aemond and I began walking again, the vibrant energy of the market humming around us. He  took the fabric from my hands and passed it to Ser Arryk, who followed us with a vigilant but unobtrusive presence.
"Princess, you've paid far too much for this," Ser Arryk pointed out, his tone respectful but puzzled.
I shrugged lightly, glancing up at Aemond as he interlaced his fingers with mine. "If we can afford it, why not?" I replied, feeling a sense of contentment in the small act of kindness.
Aemond squeezed my hand gently, his gaze softening further as he looked down at me. "And now, where to?" he asked, his voice carrying a rare note of playfulness.
I paused for a moment, considering the options laid out before us in the lively market. "Perhaps the baker's," I suggested a playful glint in my eye.
Aemond chuckled, his grip on my hand tightening affectionately. "Lead the way, my love. Wherever you wish to go, I shall follow," he promised, his voice laced with warmth.
We made our way through the bustling streets to the baker's stall, the air heavy with the intoxicating aroma of freshly baked bread and sweet pastries. 
The display was a feast for the senses, with golden loaves, delicate pastries, and intricately decorated cakes all vying for attention. I couldn't resist the temptation and began picking out various treats, my eyes gleaming with delight as I selected a mix of sweet and savoury goods.
As the baker carefully wrapped my selections, I stepped to the side, my attention caught by a small cluster of cats lounging lazily in the warm sun by the side of the stall. 
Without a second thought, I dropped to the ground, the soft fabric of my dress pooling around me as I reached out to pet them. The cats responded instantly, purring contentedly as they nuzzled into my touch. 
I laughed softly, completely lost in the simple joy of the moment as I caressed their soft fur, marvelling at how they responded to my affection.
"Princess, your dress!" my handmaiden gasped, her voice filled with concern as she rushed to my side, her eyes wide with worry. "You'll ruin it!"
I looked up at her with a lighthearted smile, still stroking the contented cats. "It's alright," I reassured her gently, "I have others."
My handmaiden hesitated, clearly torn between her duty to maintain my dignity and her understanding of my spontaneous nature. Finally, she sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips as she watched me continue to pet the cats.
Aemond stood a few paces away, his tall figure casting a shadow over us, but his expression was anything but dark. He watched me with a gaze so full of love and adoration that it seemed to soften his sharp features, a rare vulnerability shining in his eye. 
His usual stern demeanour was nowhere to be seen, instead, he looked utterly captivated, as if seeing me in this unguarded moment deepened his affection for me even further.
Finally, I tore myself away from the cats, rising from the ground with Aemond's hand extended to help me up. I dusted off my dress, smiling up at him as I did so. 
"Do you like cats?" Aemond asked, his voice curious, yet tinged with a softness that was rarely heard.
I looked at him incredulously, surprised that he didn't already know. "I love them," I confessed, a wistful smile playing on my lips. 
"When I was younger, I begged my mother to let me keep one, but she never allowed it. She was afraid they would distract me from my duties, that I'd spend more time with them than attending to my responsibilities."
Aemond's expression softened further, a thoughtful look crossing his face as we began our walk back to the Red Keep. 
"Mhm, I see," he replied, his tone nonchalant, but I could sense the wheels turning in his mind as the familiar walls of the Keep came into view.
As we reached the entrance, I turned to him, smiling softly. "I'm going to change, my love. I'll see you later," I said, leaning up to place a gentle kiss on his lips before stepping away with a little wave.
He watched me go, his gaze lingering as my handmaiden and I started chatting animatedly about the gown that would be made from the gold fabric we had just purchased. 
We made our way through the corridors, our laughter echoing faintly as we envisioned the intricate designs and fine details that would soon bring the fabric to life.
─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───
Later that evening, I sat in our chambers, the room dimly lit by the warm glow of candles. My handmaiden was gently braiding my hair, her fingers deftly working as we prepared for bed. The tranquillity of the moment was soothing, the quiet hum of the Keep's night settling around us.
The door to our chambers opened softly, and I heard it close just as quietly. "Aemond?" I called out, not needing to turn around to know it was him.
"Yes, darling," he replied, his voice filled with a tender affection that made my heart flutter. 
My handmaiden finished the braid, tying it off with a delicate ribbon before giving me a small nod and excusing herself for the night.
Aemond strolled up behind me, his presence warm and comforting. He leaned down to place a quick, affectionate kiss in my hair, the familiar scent of him enveloping me as I turned to meet his gaze. 
His eye was alight with amusement, a rare smile playing on his lips.
"I have something for you," he said, his hands hidden behind his back, the hint of a playful grin on his face.
My curiosity piqued, I raised an eyebrow. "What is it?" I asked, but before he could answer, I heard a faint, delicate whimper. My eyes widened in surprise as he slowly revealed what he had been hiding.
In his hands was a small, grey, fluffy kitten, its big eyes blinking up at me innocently. 
"She's yours to keep," Aemond said, his voice softening even more as he watched my reaction.
I gasped in delight, immediately reaching out to take the little bundle of fluff from him. The kitten was light as a feather in my hands, her soft fur brushing against my fingers as I brought her up to my face, inhaling the sweet, milky scent that only a kitten possesses.
"She's adorable," I murmured, my heart swelling with affection as I gently rested the tiny creature on my bump. The kitten settled in comfortably, her small, contented purrs vibrating against me as I stroked her with tender fingers.
Aemond watched me with an expression of pure love, his eye reflecting the warmth and joy of the moment. 
"I knew you would love her," he said quietly, his voice filled with satisfaction as he saw how happy the kitten made me.
I looked up at him, my eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you, Aemond. She's perfect," I whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly.
The kitten's purring grew louder as she nestled against me, already content in her new home. 
Aemond sat beside me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders as we both watched the kitten explore her new surroundings, her tiny paws padding across the bed.
"What will you name her?" he asked, his voice gentle as he turned his gaze from the kitten to me. I paused, a faint smile playing on my lips as I considered his question.
After a moment of thought, I turned to him, the smile widening as I made my decision.
"Vhagar," I declared, watching as Aemond's face fell. He glanced from the kitten back to me, his expression caught between disbelief and amusement.
"What? Both our pets can share the same name," I teased, nudging him playfully with my elbow.
Aemond shook his head, his lips twitching as he struggled to maintain a serious expression. 
"Vhagar is not a pet, she is a dragon, a fearsome one at that," he countered, his tone laced with a mixture of pride and incredulity. "And that little creature right there is nowhere near as terrifying as her," he added, pointing at the kitten.
As if on cue, the kitten leapt up, her tiny claws latching onto his finger with surprising determination. Aemond blinked, momentarily taken aback, and I couldn't help but laugh at the sight.
"Hey, don't talk about her like that," I said, gently prying the kitten from his finger and placing her back on my bump, where she settled down with a contented meow. 
I stroked her soft fur, feeling her tiny heartbeat against me, a protective instinct rising within me.
Aemond raised an eyebrow, a smile finally breaking through his composed facade. 
"What about Shadow?" he suggested, his voice softening as he watched me cradle the kitten.
I considered the name for a moment, glancing down at the little ball of fluff that was now dozing peacefully on my lap. 
"Shadow," I repeated, testing the name on my tongue. It felt right, a fitting name for a creature who was small and quiet, yet already held a special place in my heart.
"I like it," I decided, looking back up at Aemond with a smile. "Shadow it is."
Aemond's eye softened, the corners of his mouth lifting in a tender smile as he leaned in to kiss my forehead. "Shadow it is," he echoed, his voice a low murmur, filled with affection.
Aemond's kisses trailed down my neck, each one sending a shiver of warmth through me as he gently pushed my body back onto the bed. His intentions were clear, the familiar hunger in his touch unmistakable. But just as his lips grazed my collarbone, I placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back.
"Not in front of Shadow," I whispered, nodding toward the tiny kitten, her soft purring barely audible.
Aemond paused, his lips hovering just inches from my skin, his expression shifting from passionate to utterly bewildered. He pulled back slightly, his eye widening in disbelief as he looked from me to the kitten and back again. 
The look on his face was a perfect mix of surprise and incredulity as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.
I bit my lip, trying to suppress a giggle at his reaction. The absurdity of the situation was almost too much to bear, but I couldn't help but find it endearing. 
Aemond let out a dramatic huff, clearly resigned to the whims of our tiny observer. He gently lifted the kitten placing her carefully on the floor beside us.
He then turned his attention back to me, he reached out, his hands deftly guiding me as he manoeuvred our positions. With a swift, yet gentle motion, he pulled me on top of him, arranging us comfortably as he settled back onto the bed.
"There," he said with a note of triumph in his voice, his eye glinting with a mix of amusement and affection. "Now Shadow isn't watching."
After a thoughtful pause, I nodded in agreement, a smile spreading across my face. "You're right," I replied, my tone light and teasing.
With that, I leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Aemond's lips. The kiss was tender and filled with affection, a sweet affirmation of our connection. 
As our lips met, I felt the warmth of his love enveloping me, his arms encircling me as if to hold me in that perfect moment forever.
A/n -Welcome back Margaery Tyrell x
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spidybaby · 14 days
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I love the difference between girls who like footballers and read fanfics, but they do know it's all a fanfic, and they won't actually marry the footballer.
And the girls who read fanfic, they are obsessed with everything about the footballer. They stalk the family, and they even know what day, hour, minute, second their favorite poop for the first time.
The first ones joke with things like "now that Fermin has a girlfriend, that means she would be our bestie on the gavi fanfics"
And the second ones. "I hate her. She's ugly. I hope she gets run over when she crosses the street. I'll never accept her into the family..."
Babe... baby girl.... my darling... you are NOT part of the family, you do not get to approve any girl, boy, or person that cross paths with your favorite footballer.
We need to stop normalizing the hate that these girls receive. We need to stop calling them gold diggers, sluts, any kind of derogatory name.
As girls, boys, or people. We like this footballer, we love how good he is on the pitch, we love how nice he is, we love how much he cares for the fans.
But we do not care if he has a girlfriend, sure it hurts that my delulu self that has to stop dreaming about meeting him at the baker shop and him falling in love with me like Shane did over mitchy singing on camp rock.
I'm not here for the hate. Let's all love each other and, most importantly:
LET'S ALL RESPECT EACH OTHER ❤️
💋 that's all, kisses 💋
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imaginesmai · 10 months
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Taken - Azriel
This is long and this is messy. I don't know where this came out, but shoutout to @marscardigan because she requested this fic so long ago I almost forgot. Enjoy the ANGST.
This is a fic inside the baker!reader universe from Right around the corner. You don't need to read the fics to understand but it will help you!
Plot: you're taken in the worst possible situation, and Azriel fights against time to find you.
Warnings: pregnant!reader, blood, wounds, death (not main characters).
You should have closed the bakery a while ago, you knew. You should have also taken a few days off and relay on Elain a bit more. As a matter of a fact, there was a long list of things you should have done better, most of them converged in the last month, but you were busy. And stubborn.
A very busy, very stubborn, very pregnant baker who was closing the bakery way too late.
You had been lucky that morning when you had won the first argument. It was Nyx birthday in a few days, and the boy wanted a special cake with the shadows of his uncle. And you had been working on it even if you were supposed to be on house arrest, only because Azriel was with you at all given time.
But that day, your mate had a meeting and he couldn’t stay with you, so originally you weren’t supposed to go. Originally. Since Azriel loved Nyx as much as you, he had agreed to leave you at the bakery on your own and not chain you to bed.
You hoped that agreement was still valid if he discovered how late it was.
“Alright” you muttered, looking down at the cake with your hands resting on your swollen belly. “I think it’s coming just fine, huh? One more floor and it’ll be the event of the year”
The cake had a base covered in black chocolate, small curls that simulated shadows coming from the bottom. You had already finished the worst part, and had the rest of the shadows ready in the oven for tomorrow.
While you admired your work, you rubbed your hands absentmindedly across your stomach. At the beginning on the third trimester, you looked ready to give birth. Maybe it was because of the wings, or maybe the baby already took upon his father’s size.
“I hope your tastes are less expensive than your cousin’s” you said, smiling when your rubs were answered by a strong kick. “That didn’t feel like agreeing”
The shadows that were already yours pushed you once more to the door, like they had been doing for the past hours, since the sun came down. Raising your hands up in defeat, you took the first step back home.
“Alright, I’m going. I’m going” you chuckled as they pressed more urgently now that you started walking. “I’m fine, it’s late but I’m finishing. Promise to put my feet up when I get home”
Talking with the shadows and with your baby was as common as talking to yourself. Just as Azriel, you seemed to understand what they wanted to tell you. You endured their constant tugging and pulling as you closed off the bakery.
Only when the door was locked and you turned to take the few steps to your house, you realized just how late it was.
“Oh” you blinked, looking around you. The babe sent another, softer kick.
The street was empty, the night silent. Not even the few cats that purred in the shadows happened to be there that night. Even though it was a summer night, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you put the key on your pocket and took the already usual wobbly steps.
At any given moment, you liked to think, you would have been more aware. Azriel had trained you for it, his family had too in the last years. But still, that one time you would have used any of that training, you couldn’t.
Your hand only made it to the knock of your door when the faebane arrow went clean through your shoulder. A clothe covered your mouth as the few shadows tried to blind whoever was behind you, not given you any time to scream or call for help. Gripping onto the last thread of consciousness, you tugged on the bond.
-
The meeting was taking far longer than what he would have liked.
It was supposed to be easy, to talk the problems out and to let Keir go with a warning. That was why Rhysand had asked him to come along, so that his shadows would snoop around while the male was busy. Because, if the high lord had known it would take so long, he wouldn’t have dared to separate Azriel from you.
Since you both solved your last argument, things had gotten better. He was ready to give himself to you, to become a better man for you and to be what you needed. And seven months ago, it had kept going – you were pregnant, with his child.
And if Azriel thought you were beautiful before, watching your body swell with a new life, watching you become a mother, made you perfect. The thought of you and your future child was what kept him put during hours.
He had known you were at the bakery alone; had known he was supposed to be home before dinner. But he waited, because he didn’t have a reason not to. Azriel felt a tug at the bond during the meeting, and sent a reassuring pull back.
He waited, until Keir left and he put a foot out of Hewn City. Cassian was waiting for them with his arms crossed, his back to their brothers.
“Missed us much?” Rhysand teased, letting himself smile for the first time in that day. “Is staying with – what’s wrong?”
Cassian turned around and his face fell. Azriel recognized earlier than Rhysand the fall of his shoulders, the slump on his wings. There was tension and pain written all over his face. His spymaster-mind ran over a few possibilities before his brother locked eyes with him – an attack to Velaris, an update about Beron’s plans, the revolution in the human’s lands. He even had time to worry about Nyx.
Then, he locked eyes and his breath got stuck in his throat.
“What?” he blurted out. The look on Cassian’s face threatened to swallow him down a spiral of panic. “Cassian, what?”
“What happened?” Rhysand asked, although he was already reading the general’s mind.
“Y/N’s been taken. Don’t know where yet or why” the general spoke, without dropping Azriel’s burning gaze. “I’ve got guards up in the sky and through Velaris”
“Taken?” the high lord asked again, frowning.
“Your shadows came into the wind house, somehow… Nyx knows. He told us what they saw. We are looking for her already, don’t panic. We will find her”
Rhysand could see through Cassian’s eyes, the burst of Azriel’s shadows and a crying Nyx in his room, waking him up. His son telling him about the shadows warning him in his sleep, asking the general if it was true and why they said that.
He looked at Azriel, who looked as pale as the bone wall behind them. The Illyrian tried to come up with something to say, just as he had done in so many similar occasions. It was him who remained calm when Rhysand went under the mountain, when Nyx’s life was threatened just after he was born. Azriel made plans, he was a skilled warrior.
Still, he could only tug on the bond and horrify at the emptiness that came back.
“I can’t feel her” he confessed, finally looking away from Cassian to Rhysand. “Why? Why can’t I feel her?”
“She isn’t dead” his brother answered immediately. “You would know. It’s the faebane, you won’t feel her if they have used it. Cassian, what do we know?”
“No smells, no traces. Bakery was empty and her apartment too. They must have taken her in between”
“Who would fucking take a pregnant woman?” Azriel blurted out. “She’s pregnant. She’s – fuck! In between? It’s – it’s two steps! There’s no space in between!”
“What else?” Rhysand ignored him.
“They sent a note”
Azriel’s panic died down for a moment when Cassian handed his high lord the note. He quickly snatched it away. Barely able to keep in place, he turned his back to his brothers and shamelessly used his shadows in his favor.
He heard his name being called, felt Rhysand demanding to be let in. His own power wasn’t a match for the high lord’s, but it would keep them out enough to read the note.
One of the first rules he applied when it came to kidnappings was to keep the family and loved ones out of it. They didn’t think clearly, and without wanting to, could endanger the victim. But it wasn’t just a person, it was you.
So, ignoring his own rules, he opened the note.
If you want Y/N and the baby safe, the spymaster will present himself at the given coordinates before sunrise. Impaled with faebane and with no hidden tricks. Once we deem so, we will deliver the girl in Windhaven.
Each hour past sunrise will be paid. Don’t be late.
We do not appreciate being hunted.
There were words, that made sentences, and that should have made sense. But all Azriel could see was your name, the word baby, and feel his chest tighten. That wasn’t a clue, there was no way they would find them before sunrise and bring you home to him. Right then, he understood why they kept family out of those types of matters.
The note was snatched out of his hands by a very angry looking Rhysand, with a pained Cassian behind his back.
As Rhysand read the note, Azriel let himself have a moment of sorrow. He turned every emotion upside down, explored them instead of refusing to acknowledge. For years, he had feared the possibility of you being taken from his side. There would be time to panic once he had you in his arms, to worry about the baby once he could touch your belly once more and check your pulse and breathing.
Azriel tugged on the bond once more, feeling the crushing emptiness back. There was nothing, and he was threatened to become nothing too. Instead, he tugged on the faint, thin bond that was still developing. It was barely a thread of your own, fragile but promising.
The bond with your child had been the cause of your discovery. One day it was only the two of you, and then Azriel felt something else. He tugged on that and, even if he didn’t receive anything back, he knew.
“They’re in the mountains” he looked at his brothers. “Can’t say where, but far from Windhaven”
“How are you sure?” Cassian asked, but Rhysand smiled knowingly. Sadly.
“The other bond. You shouldn’t pull too hard, Az. It’s – “
“I won’t. But I’m not letting one second go if I can find her” Azriel cut him off with a hard look. “You’re wasting your time in Velaris”
“Don’t you dare, Az”
Cassian words were lost in the wind as he winnowed away, Rhysand barely touching his forearm. He knew he shouldn’t tug on the bond so soon in his child’s life, that it would only put him at risk. Risk an early labor, risk your discomfort. But if it meant it would take him back to you, he would rip the word apart piece by piece.
-
You didn’t know how, but after all those years, all those good memories built that replaced the bad ones, you just knew. You recognized the painted walls, the stains on the ground, and the smell from the fire.
Nothing had changed over the centuries that had passed by, you realized. The tavern was just as terrible as it had been, just as dirty. They were just as tall and broad as they were, although not that many. And you were that scared girl that they ripped their wings from, tucked into a corner.
While they stared at you, you only hug your belly and tried to keep your tears at bay.
You had woken up a while ago, and they had only whispered between them. From what you had gathered, they didn’t expect the pregnancy, and were worried about it. The one who had clipped your wings so long ago wasn’t around, thanks to Azriel, but you recognized their faces.
You also recognized the blood stains on the ground and walls, courtesy of your mate and probably the reason you were in that position.
“It has closed” one of them broke the silence, frowning. “Why has it closed so soon? We just took it out”
“Must be the babe” the taller one, whom you remembered to be called Sandor, shrugged.
“It’s the third time – “
“All right, girl, you already know to stay put” Sandor sighed, as if it was a simple routine.
You refused to talk, refused to anger them just like you had done in the past and pay for your actions. It wasn’t just your life in the game, and right then, your priority wasn’t it.
With only the moon light through the window, Sandor knelt in front of you and grabbed a clean arrow. Two bloodied ones were discarded on the ground, ripped out of your shoulder and arm. Apparently, they didn’t want to risk you healing around the arrow, in case it would somehow affect the baby.
That didn’t mean they weren’t willing to stick another one once the wound was closed and there was a chance of Azriel feeling you through the bond.
For a moment, Sandor hesitated. It was clear that he wasn’t comfortable about your belly or the situation. Hurting you to get Azriel might had been fine, but hurting pregnant-you was debatable.
“Just do it, man. You might already ring the bells and light a bonfire” the nameless one snapped.
“Do you want to do it?” Sandor turned around on his knees. “Clyde, I’ve got a pregnant woman at home. And she looks ready to burst”
“It’s not your woman, it’s his. Do you want to stare at what used to be Burton?” Clyde pointed to the darkest stain. “Tell him if he wants to consider, take his time”
As they argued, you finally felt it. A tug, a breeze, nothing more than a feeling, but it was there. It was Azriel pulling at the bond like his life depended on it, with so much strength you were sure he was using power that wasn’t only his.
You blinked surprised at the change. It had taken you all your willpower not to panic when you woke up feeling nothing on the other side, and they hadn’t let enough time for your body to recover from the fae bane to feel it again. But as they argued, you silently cherished the discovery. Maybe it was the baby’s strength, maybe it was the cauldron leaning in your favor or any other force, but not only you were healing fast – you were getting the bond back.
Still looking at them, you tugged back. The bond went silent for a second, and you pressed against it again. You were hit with an overwhelming amount of worry, of fear but also love and relief. Azriel’s emotions became yours, and you were so glad it was about to be over that you unfocused your gaze.
It was enough for Clyde to notice your far-away look, and realize what was happening.
“Fuck, she’s warning him!” Clyde rushed forwards, taking the arrow out of Sandor’s grip. “You think you’re so smart?”
You blinked your fogginess away when he walked towards you, coming back to your senses. There wasn’t enough amount of love or assurance Azriel could send you that would stop you from panicking.
“No, wait” you pushed yourself farther into the corner as he moved closer, screaming at Azriel as loud as you could through the watered bond. “I didn’t! I didn’t!”
“You knocked-up, useless, brat” he gripped your ankle and pushed you towards him, your back and head hitting the ground. “Let’s see how you tell him this”
The momentary pain of hitting the ground wasn’t enough to drown the anguish of having a new arrow dug into your leg, just above your knee. The ceiling became blurry and his voices tuned out as you screamed in pain, your bounded hands trying aimlessly to break free.
You couldn’t remember the pain from the first one, seeing you were knocked out, and Sandor had managed to make the other one hurt less. But Clyde pushed his body weight onto your leg, the bottom of the arrow piercing the ground. You looked up and watched horrified as blood started leaking out through your pants and under your leg.
Moving away from him only caused the arrow to shift, but being near him was putting your baby close to the monster. So, in your panic, you tried to ease the pain by lifting your leg while shifting farther into the corner.
“How’s the bond now, uh? Is your pussy boy there?” he chuckled, while Sandor looked away. “Go on, tell him how bad we are”
“We should move” the third one spoke for the first time. “If he has felt her, he knows”
“You heard the boss” rough hands tried to push you up while you cried out.
“No” you repeated, letting Clyde put your whole weight up and almost collapsing after him. “Please, just let me go. Let me go”
Gone was the keep-quiet-don’t-talk. The tears kept rolling down your cheeks as Sandor stepped on your other side, holding you up a bit gentler than Clyde. Your baby started kicking on your side, and between the pain and desperation, you felt like throwing up and passing out.
Their chatter as they discussed what to do next was background noise. Certainly, they weren’t taking the arrow out that time, risk or no risk of being sealed inside and affecting the baby. You could barely stand up between your kidnappers and remember how to breath at the same time.
You wanted Azriel, that was the only thing you were certain. You shouldn’t have closed so late, you shouldn’t have gone to the bakery on your own, and you shouldn’t have gotten out of bed that morning. The baby agreed with you, answering each thought with a powerful kick to your kidneys and bladder.
You tried desperately to think about positive things, to keep yourself sane enough. Closing your eyes, you thought about him. His hazel eyes, that shone with a special light when he saw you between the crowd. His mouth, that curled up so lightly every time you stared at him. The freckles in his cheeks, that one that snuck up to the corner of his eye.
You could almost hear his voice reminding you to breath carefully and gain control of your body when the pregnancy pain hit, and you tried to do the same. Taking a deep breath through your mouth, holding it in. Letting it go through your nose.
“Oh, sure, because winnowing her again is the best solution, right?” Sandor scoffed loudly.
You moved your toes lightly, relieved to notice that despite the burning and overwhelming pain, you could still feel everything. From your feet to your head, you twitched every part of your body, finally able to breathe through the pain.
That didn’t mean you could move without them hauling you up, or that the baby was anymore happy.
“Enough! We’re moving now. Grab the things. We winnow – “ the anonymous man startled you, making you look up.
“I need to go the bathroom” you whispered, although it was heard as if you shouted it.
Three pair of eyes looked at you with raised brows, one pair certainly more annoyed than the other two. You didn’t know how far had it been since they took you, but it was still night time. During the last weeks, you had been paying a visit to your bathroom at least once every two hours.
And that was being generous.
The babe kicked again against your bladder, making your knees wobble. If you didn’t catch a bathroom, in a minute, you would have to let go.
“Sure. Do you want me run a bath too? Clyde, you could massage her feet. Is our lady tired of standing up for so long?”
“Nestor, she’s pregnant” Sandor was the only one looking slightly affected by your request. “My Lorren – “
“Your Lorren is home and we are here. Stop with Lorren!” Clyde let you go to push Sandor’s shoulders, which made you stumble back.
“I’m not carrying her if she’s gonna pee herself”
“She’s gonna be a big girl and hold it, right?” Nestor gave you a tense smile. “And you’re going to winnow her to the cabin”
“I’m not taking her to the cabin, man”
And while you stood up and waited for them to decided where to take you, you felt your bladder giving up. It wouldn’t be the first time you peed yourself, and with the strength your baby was kicking you right then, you were amazed that you managed to hold it for a few seconds.
Clyde and Nestor kept arguing loudly about the cabin, while Sandor just looked at you with a scrunched nose. You would have felt embarrassed, but you were in pain, you were scared and tired. It was hard to stay standing at any given moment with your belly. Whether it was the wings or the baby’s size, you were heavy.
The discomfort of the arrow was starting to become secondary. Even though you had just peed yourself, you still felt the kicks against your bladder – and almost against every part of your soul. You gripped the only thing available when another wave of kicks hit you, that being Sandor’s arm.
The man realized at the same time you did what was happening, although he didn’t have time to voice it out.
“Damn it!” Clyde barely missed the door coming out of its hinges. He didn’t miss the knife that embedded itself on his throat.
“Sandor, shoot him!” Nestor yelled to his friend, who was too busy keeping you off the ground now that the only support was holding his open neck. “Shoot!”
“Pathetic”
His voice was like a cold breeze in the summer, the feeling of his shadows helping you gently to stand up making your breath speed up once more.
Azriel appeared like a dark angel through the open door, his eyes not even leaving you as he stopped an arrow with his bare hand. His wings covered the moon behind him, but they didn’t stop the next figure coming through. Before Clyde hit the ground still chocking on his last breath, Rhysand had winnowed himself and Nestor out of the tavern.
You briefly wondered if death by Azriel’s hands right then would have been better than by the spymaster’s hands later.
Your mate said nothing as Sandor was ripped out of your side. Only by gripping his arm and pulling him away from you, you heard the awful crack of his arm breaking into two.
Sandor cried out, only getting a few seconds to acknowledge his arm before his left wing is ripped out of his back. Azriel’s shadows assessed your body with a sickening speed, coming to the same conclusion you had.
You were lowered softly onto the ground, silently watching what Azriel had always hidden from you. The unleveled part of him, the one that came out when someone he loved was in danger. He feared that part would take you away from him. But as you watched your mate tear Sandor to pieces, you only felt relief at his presence.
The male wasn’t done screaming for his life when he fell dead to the side. His mangled body was blocked from your view by training leathers and tearful hazel eyes. Everything he had felt during the last hours, that he had denied himself from so he would find you, crashed hard.
His scarred hands held your face while he scanned your body, stopping on your untouched belly and bleeding wound. He didn’t even flinch when he touched your soaked pants to pull it out.
The pain you were in in that moment prevented you from feeling anything more than a discomfort at the pull.
“You’re alive” Azriel cried out, not holding his tears back. “I thought – for a moment, I thought… I couldn’t feel you. And then I did, but you were gone. I didn’t know what had happened. I almost died, Y/N. You’re alive. You’re okay”
“Az” you whined, one of your hands gripping his shoulder harder than it was necessary.
“The baby’s bond… I followed it to the mountains. I know I shouldn’t, but I pulled it” he placed one hand on your belly, laughing tearfully when he felt a kick back. “I love you. I love you both so much”
There weren’t words to explain what Azriel had felt in the last few hours. How he had stumbled down into the snow when he had felt your end of the bond alive, how desperate he had been to follow it. Then, it had gone dark and if it wasn’t for Rhysand following him, he would have crashed right there.
He was glad his brother had been there, that he had taken a male away for questioning. Once you were safe and with Madja, he would make sure to take his time.
Azriel pressed a shaky, wet kiss to your forehead, then another one to your nose. He kissed each and every tear that had stained your cheeks in the past hour, finally pressing his lips against yours.
When he moved back, ready to winnow you both back to Velaris and hold you close for a week, he was surprised to see new tears running down your cheeks. What he thought was terror for the kidnapping, the anguish of your captors, hadn’t left your face.
“What’s wrong?” he frowned, leaving his own despair for later and looking back at your body.
“Az” you repeated.
You had realized what was happening before him, had known just before Sandor. His shadows couldn’t possibly understand what was happening, and so, Azriel didn’t. Any pain you had felt during that night paled away from the complete, absolute fear the crippled you as you stared at your mate in that dark tavern, where your worst memories had taken place.
“I’m here” he reminded you, his hand caressing the belly. “Where does it –“
“It’s coming” you finally admitted, watching the realization hitting him. “The baby’s coming”
It had felt like peeing yourself, like normal kicks, you guessed. What had given it away was crippling, motherly realization that your baby wanted out. That bond that had connected you to it was more present than ever, and somehow, you knew.
Azriel paled even more if that was possible. Right there, sitting in the dirty, bloodied and now empty tavern, your water had broken. You wanted to break down crying, because of course, given your history your baby would choose that moment.
When Azriel didn’t say anything, you lip wobbled again. Because, if he didn’t have the answers, who would?
“It’s coming” you said again, feeling like a broken record. “What do we do? What -?”
“I’ll winnow us to Velaris” Azriel interrupted you, knowing the answer before saying it.
“Madja said we can’t” you reminded him, although he already knew. “Oh God. Az, it’s coming. What do we do? I’m having a baby. I’m having a baby!”
Indeed, one of the first things Madja had advised you against was winnowing while pregnant. So close to the date, it would only trigger an early labor – and on the date, it would be dangerous to the baby and you. Rhysand would be back in Velaris by then, probably thinking you two were just fine and happy together once more.
And winnowing away to warn him and bring someone was out of the equation, since he wouldn’t be leaving you for a while now.
So Azriel gathered himself together and gave you a hesitant smile.
“We can do it” Azriel whispered, not sure of the truth behind his words.
“What?”
“I’m not leaving you. We’re here together, and we can do it. Madja told us what it’s like” Azriel tried to sound confident for you, for the both of you, but it came out as a question.
“We’re having a baby”
“We’re having a baby”
The first rays of sun entered through the empty space where the door was as you stared into his eyes. You could risk winnowing back and losing the baby and your life, or you could send away Azriel and hope he made it in time back with Madja or any other healer. Neither of those options felt like surviving to you, so you nodded at him and willed that tear to be the last one.
Azriel leaned in and kissed you softly. His lips were salty, from his tears or your own, and kind. While his shadows brushed every available part of your body, you let yourself forget about the closing wound, about the trembling of your knees and the pain in your belly.
Kissing him would always feel like the first time, like fireworks and Starfall. His nosed brushed your own and his tongue deepened the kiss. One of his hands cupped the back of your head, the hair there already covered in sweat. Even it was cold with the morning breeze, you were ready to get out of your body.
The kiss ended way too soon, just as another kick, or contraction, hit you harder than before. You sucked a breath and almost stumbled to the ground.
Azriel was quick to roll his sleeves up, lowering you until you were laying on the ground. Looking up at him, he gave you reassuring smile and hesitant nod.
“We’re having a baby” he squeezed your shoulder.
You tried to smile as another contraction hit and the first scream broke the silent morning.
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shady-tavern · 2 years
Text
Winter Star
Some children were born touched by nature, carrying the warmth of the sun, the brightness of spring and the gentle patience of the earth. They were rare, but everyone knew their stories and knew how wonderful they had been. 
They knew about the girl touched by summer, who had been taken by a fae woman, the Stag Queen. There was the boy of autumn, who the stars had lured away, never to be seen again and a handful of others, whose fates had been the same.
One day, a girl came into this world with hair as white as snow, lashes like frost and skin as pale as the moon she was born beneath. Everyone who laid eyes on the babe knew immediately she was one of those special ones, beautiful as flowers in the middle of winter and as elegant as drifting snowflakes on cold winds.
Her parents worked hard to keep her safe and raise her to be kind and clever, spending much of their hard earned coin to dress her well and see her educated, knowing a great future would await her. So long as no one took her. 
They warned her of the dangers of the world as she grew older, to mistrust strangers and duck out of sight should someone peer at their humble home. However, not even their best attempts to shield her from the world could stop the spreading rumors.
"She is as lovely as snow in the sun," the baker would tell anyone who'd visit his shop, proud of the special girl that grew up down the street of their cozy village.
"Do you know these wonderful early mornings where the light looks gold and pink and everything is so so beautiful it steals your breath away?" the cobbler would sigh dreamily to everyone who'd listen to her. "That's how it feels to look at her."
Soon people came to see the girl touched by winter, the one who was rumored to walk as though she was floating and she was said to possess such graceful manners it would make royalty turn green with envy.
People started to grace the steps of their home in growing numbers with gifts and sweet words carried on silver tongues. Hopeful fathers with curious and often infatuated sons, merchants who donned their finery in hopes of looking more enticing. The parents refused them all, citing that their daughter was still too young to chose.
It became a sort of contest amongst the curious and hopeful, to try and glimpse even a hair of the rumored maiden. Those who did manage to see her for just a moment left smiling dreamily and spreading ever more rumors.
The girl soon grew into a young woman and now her suitors were no longer just merchants and local business owners. Now she received letters and gifts from wealthy traders and even nobles.
One day, a messenger of the prince of their lands stood at their door, offering a chest of jewels and a richly embroidered dress deserving of a future queen. The young woman refused him gently and with kind words, as she had refused all other gifts.
Shortly afterwards, a holy knight asked for a moment of her time, offering his blessed castle to guard her from all evil and unbreakable vows of devotion. She gently and kindly refused him as well. 
He vowed to win her heart and return with better offers just as the prince did, who would not give up so easily, soon sending another messenger.
She refused their gifts of riches and protection anew with a kind word, while her parents debated. Her mother, ever worried about her safety and wanting the best possible future, grew fond of the idea that her daughter might become a princess. One day even a queen. This would certainly be a dream come true for any parent.
Her father, pious and ever concerned about the magical dangers of the world, was particularly fond of the holy knight. He was rather taken with the idea that his daughter might one day live in a place no evil could reach while also receiving enough money to be comfortable.
"The prince is said to be a handsome, well mannered young man," her mother said while they baked for the harvest festival, autumn coloring the landscape outside. Winter was approaching and whenever it did their daughter seemed to grow all the more beautiful for it. "He would be good to you."
"The knight is strong and well versed in the dangers of the world," her father countered that evening, as he whittled and she embroidered the hem of a new dress with fine, delicate stitches. "He would keep you safe."
Soon the gifts changed from material goods to whatever strange and magical things her suitors could find. They hadn't given up on her yet, on winning the Winter Bride, as they started to call her.
"This owl loses gems whenever it shakes its wings," the prince's messenger said with a proud flush to his cheeks, as though he was courting the young woman himself, not his prince. The owl was a gorgeous animal, as frost colored as the young woman herself, housed in a small cage made of pure gold.
"His Highness says you may keep it," the messenger held the cage out, nose and forehead bitten red from the cold that had settled over the land. "So you may think of him whenever you look at it and your heart may grow as fond as his has grown of you."
The young woman accepted the cage with soft words and the messenger left grinning from ear to ear. Her parents were delighted, chattering about such a special gift while their daughter took the owl out the kitchen door to the backyard.
While her parents were busy discussing the merits of her becoming a princess, she opened the door of the cage and carefully helped the owl out.
"That's better, isn't it," she said softly as she watched the owl fluff up and shake its body in relief, gems falling from between its feathered wings. It turned its head to watch her for a long moment and she held her arm a little higher, uncaring that the talons of the owl left bleeding scratches along her arm.
"Go, if you wish," she told it with a smile as light as fresh snow. "Be free."
The owl gave her a regal nod and took off, disappearing swiftly. The young woman smiled, her heart glad and she returned inside to find her parents dismayed. They couldn't stay angry for long, however, sighing after scolding her for wasting such a precious gift. 
Her father muttered afterwards that maybe the prince didn't know what a woman's heart truly wanted. Her mother, fiddling with the wool she was knitting socks out of, countered that he would find something to win their daughter's heart soon.
The holy knight arrived the next day with a cage woven out of brambles and he presented her with a snow-white fox with eyes of molten gold.
"This one will warn you of dangers and tell you if you are in the presence of evil minds," the knight offered, bowing deep as he held out the cage. "This is a mere gift, no strings attached. May it protect you in my absence and may you find you desire my presence instead one day."
The young woman took hold of the cage and as the knight left, her parents cheerfully discussed weaving a leash for the fox and where to keep it. Her father was nearly dancing with joy as he praised the knight for his thoughtfulness and what this in turn promised for their daughter's future.
The young woman smiled and left them to it, taking the fox out to the backyard. She ignored the way the brambles scratched up her hands as she unmade part of the cage and let the fox jump out, it's snout bloody from trying to bite its way to freedom.
"Go, if you wish," she told it with a smile as lovely as frost flowers. "Be free."
The fox bowed its head in gratitude and ran, swifter than any mere animal and it was soon gone with long strides that looked as though its body weighed no more than a feather. The young woman returned inside and once more her parents were quite upset at having lost such a precious gift.
They couldn't stay angry for long again however, and sighed. Her mother suggested the knight might need to choose his next gift more smartly, while her father grumbled that there must be something out in the world their daughter wanted.
"You must choose who to marry one day," her father told her gently, as though he could soften the order into a plea. "You must stay safe. I'm sure you'll chose well when the time comes."
He cast a significant look to the holy symbol over their hearth, while her mother nodded, tipping her head tellingly towards the small pouch holding the gems the owl had dropped.
The next day, after a night of the season's first snowfall, the young woman woke to find frost covering her windows entirely. It looked as though the snow had piled up all the way to the roof outside.
"I thank you," an ice wind whispered when she opened the windows to peer outside, a thick blanket of snow covering everything. "You returned my dearest friends to me after they were taken when I wasn't there. Two wishes I grant you for saving their lives, use them well."
She felt the magic settle over her as the wind finished blowing past and she couldn't help but peer out into the winter wonderland, as though she could catch a glimpse of whoever had spoken to her. It must have snowed very thickly that night to create that much snow, a quite unusual thing.
Seeing nothing and no one, she rubbed the frost off of the windows and went about her day, two wishes cradled close to her heart. They felt like a refreshing coolness within her, the way a bath in the river was revitalizing during hot summer days.
As winter settled over the land like a content cat in front of the fireplace, she received more gifts. A nightingale who sang so sweetly it made listeners cry, a white hare with fur so fine it was considered the softest in the world. She let each of them go and every time she opened a cage, she felt a change in the winds.
They grew colder each time that presence was back, the one she had felt during the first day of winter.
"Why do you not ask for anything?" the ice wind wondered one day after she unbridled a unicorn the holy knight had captured for her. It paused just long enough to press its velvet-soft nose against her cheek, thanking her silently, then it took off, trailing whispers of magic behind it. "Why not keep the wondrous ones you are offered so freely?"
"Would you like a cage?" she asked in return, watching in quiet awe as the unicorn disappeared. "Would you enjoy a leash or collar, to be bound to the whims and wills of those who hold you in their hands?"
"No," the wind answered in a solemn tone. "You are wise and kind, not many would do as you do."
Maybe, maybe not. She had no way of knowing, having never left the village. All she knew about the world were the things she had read in books she had managed to sneak away and what other people had told her. 
She had found, however, that people tended to paint the world dark and evil whenever she listened, to warn her of its many dangers. To ensure she would not set a single foot into the forest, to ensure she would not walk beyond the village border, to ensure she would not chat with strangers the villagers hadn't vetted. 
She still vividly remembered how panicked and worried her parents had been. How they had cried bitter tears when she had fallen asleep in their neighbor's hayloft, reading a book of fairy tales, and they hadn't been able to find her for hours. 
"Good wind," she spoke up. "Might I bother you to tell me about the world? You must have seen much of it."
"I have," the wind answered. "Is that your first wish?"
She was quiet for a long moment, then she smiled. "A true story, every night for a year. That is my wish."
"I will bring cold with me whenever I visit," the wind warned her. "For I am ice and snow, frost and blizzard. I am winter itself. Are you certain?"
The young woman turned to look back at her humble, warm home and thought of her mother's beloved flowers and her father's meticulously tended herb bed.
"Two true stories every night for as long as this winter lasts," she amended. "Will you accept my wish?"
"I accept," Winter answered solemnly. "Light a candle at your window, when it is the only light that still burns in your home, I will come."
The wind blew away and the young woman returned inside, her parents sighing, rueful and exasperated as they accepted the bridle with gold decorations and spun out of enchanted silver thread.
"Always giving away what would enrich your life," her father grumbled, rubbing his forehead as though getting a headache. "But it's alright, if this is not what you want, surely someone will find a gift soon."
"Our beautiful, strange girl," her mother murmured fond and wry all at once, kissing her on her brow. "Will one of them ever make you happy one day?"
"We'll find the right one," her father said reassuringly, pulling them both into a hug. He turned to look at his daughter, "And we'll make sure you never have to fear being taken."
That night the young woman lit a candle and waited. She had almost fallen asleep when the window slipped open a crack and she felt icy winds brush through the room, trailing a handful of snowflakes in its wake. Immediately the windows frosted over to pure white and any warmth was gone between one breath and the next.
"A wish is a wish," Winter said. "And here are your stories, as promised."
Winter first told her a story of lands beyond the mountains, of tall cliffs and hardy forests. It told her of raging oceans that froze solid whenever autumn passed and the reindeers that thundered across it to different lands. 
Winter was kind enough to answer any questions she had and she soon knew why the reindeers did what they did, how the ocean froze.
The second story was rather sad in her opinion, it was of two lovers who had run from an abusive father and a loveless marriage respectively. They had escaped into the night by the skin of their teeth and Winter told her of their journey through snow and ice. They lastly died, two miles from home, holding each other, smiles frozen unto their faces.
"Have many people died this way?" the young woman couldn't help but ask.
"Yes," Winter answered. "And many more will. The cold is no place for those who need warmth to live. Good night now, you who shines like a star, I shall see you again tomorrow."
She fell asleep to the soft whistle of air as Winter left, gently pulling the window closed behind it. Her dreams were filled with wondrous sceneries and people wandering through a snowy forest, away from their warm and yet unsafe homes.
The young woman soon looked forward to Winter's visits the most, eagerly going to sleep each night and secretly she hoped this winter might last just a little longer. The prince and holy knight, as well as many of her other more persistent suitors were quickly forgotten when confronted with stories of the world at large.
And finally she got to know what the world truly was. It was indeed dangerous, but it was also incredibly wonderful. Every story filled her with wonder and longing, chasing away the wariness her parents had painstakingly instilled within her.
The young woman felt as though she had forced herself to be a frozen lake all her life, still and quiet and unmoving, never leaving and never changing. Now, however, it felt as though the thrum of reindeer hooves had made the ice tremble and with each story she wanted more. 
With each story she felt her childhood dreams emerge, that deep seated adventurous spark she had smothered upon seeing her parents' tearstained, panicked faces. She had loved them too much to cause them grief and so she had made sure to be obedient and sweet at all times.
She also hadn't wanted to be taken away, to live a horrible life and to never see her parents again. She hadn't wanted to upset them and make them cry or discuss strategies to keep her safe until late at night.
But deep down, beneath the stillness she forced upon her soul, she had never quite stopped looking beyond what she knew. To peer towards the woods and wonder what laid there, to watch travelers and dream of the lands they must have seen.
"Thank you," she murmured as Winter left, sleep rising to claim her. "You're the only one who doesn't tell me everyone wants to hurt me."
Winter was silent, the window cracked still and she wasn't sure if she imagined it or not, but it almost sounded as though they said, "You can count on my aid for as long as I am here, should you need it."
She smiled and felt the furs she had started to take to bed being pulled up to her chin by what seemed to be hands. She was asleep the next moment, unable to open her eyes once more and check.
Winter soon had to move on, however and she mournfully said goodbye to her new friend.
"If you wish it, I can ask my friends to visit," Winter offered on the last day, only snowy slush remaining on the ground and water dripping off of trees. The only spot where there was still true cold was where the wind blew and she swore she could almost make out a shape as it moved. "They could tell you about things I have not seen."
"Then let this be my other wish," the young woman agreed, a glad smile brightening her face. "I would happily welcome the company."
"A wish spoken is a wish granted." She felt cold brush past her cheek, almost like a caress. "I will see you again soon," Winter promised. "If you wish."
"Oh, I very much wish so," she reassured them, reaching out to find invisible strands of wind weaving around her fingers, cold gently brushing her skin. "Will I ever see you in full?"
"Maybe one day." With those words Winter left, trailing the last bit of ice of the year in their wake.
And as promised, the young woman wasn't without company. Spring spoke to her through blooming flowers and invited her to playful dances in moonlight by luring her out the window, promising to look after her.
"There is no joy in never getting to laugh," Spring told her, a grin bright in that sweet, often mischievous voice. "Come, jump and let me catch you!"
Spring was bright and joyful and taught her much about the world. It told her of large meadows that bloomed so brightly one saw only color as far as the eye could see. It told her funny stories of silly animal antics and where it could find acorns and seeds buried in the ground to be raised up into new plants.
The knight and prince were still persistent, hoping to win her heart with more magical creatures and even a few enchanted items, which the young woman refused. She had no need for a necklace that made her sing like a siren nor for bracelets that teleported her to the knight's side in case of danger.
After spring came summer, full of warmth and sweetness. Summer winds encouraged the young woman to walk barefoot outside, to turn her face into the winds and smell all the scents that could be brought over. To dare and set foot into the forests to find the most wonderful berries to pick and to watch deer graze peacefully.
Her parents never knew, she made sure not to worry them, but with each day, with each thing she did, she felt her heart grow. And with it, her yearning for more. To see the places she had been told of, to hear the sound of the ocean and smell a valley of flowers.
The prince and knight started to grow impatient, wondering what it took to make her their bride. They became more insistent, their words losing their sweet tone bit by bit.
"You're not getting any younger my dear," the baker told her when she came to pick up bread, her pale dress making her look like a walking piece of winter in the middle of summer. "They're soon going to change their minds and then where will you be? Filled with regret. So take an old man's advice and be smart."
"Surely one has made you fall in love, either with them or their riches," the cobbler said as she passed by. "You should let them know and arrange a wedding. We're all looking forward to the festivities."
She had no idea how to tell them that she hadn't chosen any of her suitors, that none of them had won her heart. Not with coin and not with living beings caged and collared. How could she have kept a single one of them, or fallen in love for that matter, if she felt trapped herself?
A comfortable, pretty cage made by loving parents, the bars wrought out of worry and kindness, but a cage nonetheless. And they were seeking to put her in another one, bigger and prettier, but just as locked up tight. All in the name of safety. All so they could have the winter girl and not someone else.
The young woman wondered if such a thing must be necessary. If there was a way to live free without fear. Surely there must be one.
She asked Autumn, for Summer had left before she could put her feelings properly into words. Autumn was busy as a bee, zipping from place to place to ensure harvest would be done in time, talking so fast she sometimes couldn't quite follow entirely.
"Of course you can go wherever you want," Autumn said while rustling leaves artfully, only to change its mind a moment later and turn it into cheerful chaos. "There, that's better. Winter Star, you are indeed unusual, that is true, but that is nothing bad. You can always call on us if you find yourself in trouble you can't solve alone."
"Are you certain?" she hadn't expected such an offer. The seasons had come in response to Winter's wish, after all. Autumn laughed, the leaves rustling around them, some more falling off trees.
"We have grown fond of you, worry not. Winter might have been able to ask us to say hello, but nothing beyond that." The winds tucked bright red and orange and yellow leaves into her hair until they looked like a messy crown. "Live, Winter Star. Life is too short to spend it cowering."
The young woman couldn't help but look past the village and to the forest beyond, the riot of colors autumn had brought and how it had even coaxed some trees into making their leaves especially pretty.
"Where do I go?" she couldn't help but ask, suddenly overwhelmed with all the options that seemed to lay themselves at her feet.
"Anywhere," Autumn answered with excited cheer. "Whenever you pack your bag to leave, you'll find that you have more friends than you thought and you will always find more. Go on, try it."
She couldn't simply up and disappear, of course. Not when it would ruin her parents. However, the next time she received gifts from the prince and knight, an idea sparked.
Autumn laughed when she talked about her plan and gladly agreed to help. Soon, gifts of a secret admirer appeared, promising all the things her parents were looking for. A home warded against evil, enough coin to keep their daughter happy and clothed and fed to the end of her days.
It took some finagling to make gifts for herself, but soon the young woman was caught by the idea of what made her happy. She gifted herself books and hardy boots and a bracelet made of colorful river stones. Her parents were befuddled at first, but seeing as she finally seemed to fall in love with someone, they were relieved.
The entire village spoke about it now, wondering who this mysterious stranger was and if they would get to meet them soon. The young woman made a marriage offer to herself and laughed when she accepted it in front of her parents.
"They will pick you up, won't they?" her mother fretted as she helped her pack. "I can't believe my little girl is getting married. We'll meet them soon, won't we? And don't you forget to invite us to the wedding."
"I'll be sure to visit," she promised and later asked Autumn for advice. "I can't just grab my things and leave like any old traveler, after all."
"Leave it to me," Autumn answered, before breezing away, muttering about stubborn berry bushes who really ought to know better by now.
A few days later, a young adult knocked at their door, dressed in fine autumn colored garb. They wore dark green breaches, earth-brown boots, a dark red tunic and a cloak of bright yellow wool, embroidered with dozens of fallen leaves in multiple colors. They bowed, hair windswept and eyes honey brown.
"It is an honor to meet you, I've come to pick up the young lady in the name of my master," the person said in Autumn's voice and when they met her gaze, they offered a quick little wink. The young woman couldn't help but grin, swiftly hiding it behind her hand when her parents glanced over.
"Oh, that is so lovely," her mother gasped when peeking outside and the young woman stepped forward to look as well.
Outside stood a gleaming carriage in gold and red-brown colors and it was pulled by none other than a unicorn. The very unicorn she had once freed. It looked at her, no bridle on its head and she felt as though it was smiling as it dipped its head a little.
The bags were swiftly loaded onto the carriage and a tearstained and heartfelt goodbye later, the young woman left for the first time in her life.
As soon as they were away from the village, she managed to clamber up onto the driver's seat to hug Autumn tight.
Autumn laughed, ruffling her snowy hair. "Now, you best learn how to drive because I do not have the time to take you anywhere, I still have to wrangle some lazy mushrooms."
After a quick couple of lessons, Autumn left, disappearing in a flurry of leaves and rustling clothes to continue on as it always did.
The young woman's heart was racing as she traveled on and on. Autumn visited often and in brief bursts, but soon the air grew colder and colder. The young woman felt excitement rise within her at the thought of Winter's return.
And then, one day, she felt ice winds brush past her. "I see you have found your freedom. I am glad."
"Welcome back," she breathed, her breath fogging in front of her. "I missed you."
Coldness that felt like fingertips brushed her hair back. "And I you. I am glad to see you well."
The young woman happily told Winter all about her plans, while Winter guided her to a place she could stay as it was too cold to travel. A cottage, recently abandoned, but it was easily made ready again. The young woman sold the carriage in a nearby town and the unicorn left after nuzzling her cheek.
She made sure to write home to her parents, while she explored the world around her temporary home with Winter often at her side. Sometimes Winter's other friends showed up, the fox hopping around playfully and the owl watching kindly from its perch in the trees. Winter told her stories all without prompting and showed her the hidden beauty of their season.
"If you wish, travel north," Winter told her as they laid together in the snow, watching bright, bright stars above them at night. "I will be able to show you dancing lights in the sky."
"Yes," she said and slowly, carefully, inched her hand across the space between them, until she felt that special kind of cold breeze. The wind slowly settled and she swore, from the corner of her eyes as long as she did not glance over, she could glimpse Winter's shape once more.
It was the best winter she had ever had and when it became clear her dearest companion would move on soon, she promised to meet the season halfway.
"Go north," Winter reminded her once more. "If you wish, I will wait for you."
She reached out and closed her eyes and this time she felt proper hands close around hers, though they weren't as icy as the blowing winds. Still cool, but she felt soft skin and elegant hands, the brush of a fur lined sleeve. "I will be there, I promise."
"Soon, then," Winter whispered, a smile in their voice, and she felt the brush of cool lips and a cold breath upon her cheek, smiling wide. When she opened her eyes again, she watched ice winds blow away, looking joyful as they trailed snow in their wake.
The young woman set out as Winter left, buying herself a horse and using the rest of the money from the carriage to have her things put in storage until she sent for them.
She left on her very first adventure, Spring urging her on, showing her the meadow of flowers and guiding her way across the land to where ocean waves lapped against fine-sand shores.
She got to meet and speak with many different people and sometimes Spring and later Summer warned her away from certain folks. But mostly, people did her no harm nor wished harm upon her. If anything, many approached her, concerned about her safety and offering to help her get where she wanted to go. She always declined kindly and smiled.
The young woman got to truly experience the world, listening to new music, visiting theatres when she came by cities and towns and eating food she had never dreamed of could exist.
She headed north at last, cutting her time with Summer short and meeting Autumn sooner. And then, the air grew cold and she felt a familiar, very dear presence.
"Hello," she said with a wide, happy smile appearing on her face. "I came, as promised."
"Let me show you everything," Winter breathed and there was excitement in that beloved voice. They traveled onward together and if the young woman tipped her head the right way, she saw Winter beside her, riding on a horse of snow and wind.
Soon she got to see the ocean frozen, as it had been in the very first true story she had ever heard. She watched reindeer trot across in big herds, holding out her hand and smiling when Winter took it, her heart so warm the cold around her might as well have stopped existing.
"Why chose me?" Winter asked as they settled down on a snow covered hill to watch the sun set. It looked truly beautiful. "There were many who tried to win your heart."
"But none understood it," she answered and when she looked up, she saw Winter truly for the first time, not as a season, but as the spirit it was. 
Tall and slim, with hair as white as hers and eyes as dark as the frozen ocean. Ice earrings as blue as glaciers dangled from their ears and snowflakes were woven through their hair like the finest veil, ending in a crown of icicles. Clothes in white and light blue draped across their form, lined with fur and half covered in frost.
"Maybe I would have fallen in love with one of the others, had they not offered me another cage," she admitted, giving that cool hand in hers a gentle squeeze. "But instead of expensive gifts and captured magical beings, you gave me stories and shared your friends with me."
One of those slim hands rose to cup her cheek, feeling a little frosty but not stinging her with its coolness. "You shine so brightly, I would never think about forcing you to dim."
"Then you have your answer." She tipped her head into their hand, letting it cradle the side of her face. "I have an idea. Let's make this place our home, so I can be with you for many months."
"Yes," they answered, brushing a cold kiss against her forehead and she could feel them smile against her skin. "And the rest of the year you'll get to be the adventurer you always wanted to be, my star."
That did sound like the best future.
*.*.*
"They'll love you, I promise," the young woman said, giving Winter's hand a gentle squeeze. "They've been asking to meet you and when our wedding will be."
"They will know what I am the moment they see me," Winter sighed but followed her up the path to her parents' house. It was dark and thick snow covered everything.
"They will, but they will also see that you never took me they way they feared and that I am happy." She looked up at the love of her life, the one who loved her for who she was in return. "Trust me."
Winter softened and pulled to a stop in front of the door, cupping her cheek in one elegant hand and leaning down to brush the loveliest of kisses upon her lips. "Always, my star."
The young woman grinned, happy and bright, like ice in the sun and cheerful snowfall. Then she raised her hand and knocked.
*.*.*
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crappymixtape · 2 years
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laugh like lovers, kiss like friends
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you're getting married – steve’s in town for the ceremony and it dredges up old memories, ones you thought you'd forgotten, but you have to decide, will you say ‘i do’ or will your heart realize what you really want has been there all along?  | (  9.1k, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )
L A U G H L I K E L O V E R S, K I S S L I K E F R I E N D S 🎶 cold water swimming, quiet houses
“How about these, dear? Eucalyptus pairs lovely with peonies. Besides, wildflowers for a wedding? In all my years as a planner I’ve never seen it. No one does it. It's just tacky, hon.”
Twirling the stem of a daisy between your fingers you bit the inside of your cheek, only half hearing the woman standing next to you among all the buckets and vases of flowers in the greenhouse.
Wildflowers for a wedding? No one does it.
Pulling your eyes off the daisy you forced a smile, “Of course, I’m sorry. Peonies sound great.”
“Wonderful, I’ll add it to the day-of agenda and make sure the florist knows you’ve made up your mind. It’s an excellent choice, one your fiance will be happy with I’m sure.”
Your fiance.
Sam proposed less than a month ago in the kitchen of your little downtown Indianapolis apartment with his grandmother’s ring. A huge, gaudy diamond that made your hands look even smaller than they already were and after you’d called your mom the news had spread like wildfire.
Sam didn’t want to wait, he probably would’ve dragged you down to the courthouse if it hadn’t been for his parents and your mom, but it meant things were moving at the speed of light and you were running to catch up.
When he’d looked up at you, ring box outstretched, you knew what your first thought should’ve been. Tears and overwhelming joy and a resounding Yes! but none of it came. Instead your first thought had been long stalks of grass. The glittering turquoise water of the quarry. Skunky weed and wildflowers and hot, sticky Indiana summers.
Steve.
“Babe, you gotta call the bakery back, the lady doesn’t get it. Idiot,” Sam’s voice cut through into your thoughts and you blinked them away.
“What?”
“The cake? She’s not getting it. I told her we wanted vanilla, like actual vanilla not that imitation shit.”
“Julie’s not an idiot,” your tone grew clipped, short, brow furrowing as you folded your arms across your chest. Julie had lived in Hawkins since before your family moved in across the street from her. The only, and best, bakery in town with the sweetest baker known to man. Julie was a saint.
“Okay, well then you try and explain it to her. I’m done,” Sam huffed, pinching his nose between his fingers and shaking his head. “I’m gonna go get food with my mom. Can’t wait until this is all over,” he grumbled under his breath. “I’ll see you back at the house," and with that he hastily pressed a kiss to your forehead before stalking out of the greenhouse.
“Not really a man’s arena is it,” the planner said giving you an overly sweet smile, “Better to let us take care of it, hm?”
“I guess,” you couldn’t bear to force another smile, “Thanks for your help, but I need to go get ready for tonight. Call me if anything else comes up.”
“On it and don’t you worry, only a few more days. Just think! The happiest day of your life!”
The happiest day of your life.
It sure as hell didn’t didn’t it feel like it.
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The high vaulted ceilings in your parents’ living room looked the same as they had when you lived there. Same ugly, bumpy texture and yellowed color, now with a few too-high cobwebs just out of reach hanging in the corners.
The buzz of conversation filling the air around you was incessant, blending and blurring together and making you feel like you were far away. Like you were a spectator and not the bride-to-be and your chest squeezed with nerves. There were so many people packed into the house and as guests hurled their questions at you, your anxiety only grew.
“Oh, sweetie you look amazing! You’ll be a beautiful bride!” “Tell me again, where are you going for your honeymoon?” “Sam is such a catch, does he have any available friends? Just kidding! But seriously?” “Oh my god, look at that ring! He must really love you.”
One of Sam’s cousins had been hammering you with question after question, barely giving you any room to reply and you felt like you were drowning in it. The walls of the living room suddenly felt like they were closing in on you, making you feel claustrophobic and you needed air. Outside. Anything other than this. “Is-is it warm in here?” you stuttered, pulling at the collar of your dress.
“No? What d’you mean–”
“I’m sorry, excuse me,” you didn’t wait for her to finish and instead moved as quickly as you could through the crowd, trying not to project your panic with a fake smile plastered on your lips until you reached the slider door.
“Honey!” your stomach sank. Your mom. “Your aunt and uncle just got here, you need to say hello!”
Looking over your shoulder she was standing with her hands on her hips, brow furrowed in frustration, watching as your fingers gripped the handle of the patio door.
“I know,” your voice was edged with irritation and you bit your tongue. “Please? I just need some air for a minute. I’ll be right back,” and you could tell she didn’t like your answer, but she didn’t fight you on it as you slipped outside, all the noise and voices and music blunted and sliced in half as you shut the door behind you.
Leaning back against the glass, eyes closed, you pulled in a breath of air and let it out slowly. Trying, telling, yourself you had to keep it together. Just a minute out here and you’d feel right as rain. Ready to dive back in.
The happiest day of your life.
“Shouldn’t you be inside?”
Your eyes flew open, an all-too-familiar voice making your heart leap into your throat.
He was sitting on the edge of one of the pool loungers like it was nothing, a few locks of stray hair falling into his eyes, all warm honey and burnt caramel and the boyish grin he was giving you made you feel dizzy. Like it always did.
“I’ve been inside for like two hours,” you shot back, but you couldn’t ever bring yourself to really sound mad at him.
At Steve.
“Well don't sound like you’re having too much fun. Not like you’re getting married in three days or anything,” he teased, scooting over on the lounger, a silent invitation for you to sit next to him and you took it.
“Don’t remind me–” fell out, “–what I mean is–it's just–just planning everything has been...a lot.”
Steve caught your slip up, but didn’t call it out, only humming in reply as he threaded a hand through his hair, watching as you settled down next to him. “I’m about a month late, but congrats,” he offered with a small smile before taking a drink from his beer.
“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” you replied lamely, cheeks flushing when he looked over at you. You were entirely too sober for this. “Here, gimme that,” reaching over you took the beer from his hand, chugging half of it in one go and pulling a laugh out of Steve.
“Jesus,” Steve laughed, amused at you, a sound you’d missed so very much. “Take it easy,” he chided gently, but it was all warm and sticky sweet like popsicles on a hot day and when you gave it back he shook his head.
Silence lingered between you for a moment, the static sound of the pool filter trickling in the background, and your thoughts drifted back to a moment a few years ago. Up in your room while summer spun by outside. The last time he'd been over here. Steve.
Bobbing along to the music coming from your stereo, you crammed the last of your photos into one of the empty supply boxes Steve had brought over from Family Video.
“I wanted to be with you alone and talk about the weather, but traditions I can trace against the child in your face won't escape my attention,” you sang a little off key, giving your shoulders a little shimmy as you turned to grab the pile of books on your bed.
“You keep your distance via the system of touch and gentle persuasion. I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much?” Steve sang back, browed knitted together in dedication to the bit, hips swaying as he wiped down your dresser. Turning with the roll of paper towels in his hand he held it out to you as the chorus neared, both of you singing horribly.
“Oh, you're wasting my time, you're just, just, just wasting time!”
“God, who’s gonna sing shitty with me when you’re not around?” Steve tossed the roll onto your bed, leaning back against the drawers behind him.
“Robin sucks more than I do,” you shot back, and Steve mumbled in agreement.
“Yeah, but she hates Tears for Fears,” there was a slight whine in his voice that made you look up at him over your box and grin.
“Well then save it for me when I’m back on Christmas break.”
Steve gave you a pout and folded his arms over his chest, “That’s like, a fucking eon from now.”
“It’s not that long,” you moved around the other side of your bed to sit in front of him, a small pause swallowing you both into silence.
Clearing your throat you dropped your gaze down your shoes, kicking them in time with the song still playing in the background. You glanced over at Steve’s dirty, beat up Blazers and smiled. “I guess I’ll miss you,” you teased, looking back up at him and he gave you a smile, but it softened the longer he looked at you.
“I know I’ll miss you,” he said, and you knew he meant it, and your heart fluttered in your chest like a bird caught in a cage as the air around you grew thick with words unsaid, but implied. Steve took a step away from the dresser, standing in the V of your legs, hand moving to lift your chin up with his thumb and forefinger.
You bit your bottom lip between your teeth, meeting his gaze, and everything felt hazy. “Miss you too, Stevie,” you murmured and he leaned down slowly. Tilting your chin ever so gently he hesitated for just a second before pressing his lips against yours. Your room and half-packed boxes and everything fell away in the warm, glittering feeling of Steve and summer and the last of the light falling through your window washed you both in gold like it wanted to hold you in that moment forever.
“How long are you in town for?” your voice broke the silence between you and Steve took another drink of his beer.
“Just til the day after the wedding, need to get back to things,” he said softly, stealing a look at you out of the corner of his eye, smiling at the way your nose scrunched up when you were thinking, “You look really pretty by the way.”
Your cheeks warmed and you stole a look at him too, “You have to say that.”
“No I don’t. I do on your wedding day, but this is a freebie,” he teased, trying to make it seem lighter than it was, but you both knew the weight it carried.
“Babe, c’mon. You gotta get back inside. It’s rude. People are looking for you,” the sudden sound of Sam’s voice sliced your moment in two and Steve sat up straight, leaning away from you as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Alright, I just needed some air,” your voice sounded tired and Steve caught the look in your eyes as you roughed your hands over your face, “I’m coming.”
“Harrington,” Sam sniped, and Steve gave him a big smile, knowing just how much the other man hated finding the two of you sitting together.
“Sammy,” Steve teased and you had to bite back a laugh, hiding it in a cough, but Sam knew.
“I fuckin’ hate that,” Sam gave Steve a look and he just smiled.
“I think it’s cute,” you chimed in, but knew you should’ve kept it to yourself when Sam glared daggers at you.
“Inside,” he said, patience short, and you felt your own run out as you glared right back, but moved toward the slider door anyway.
“I’ll see you,” you told Steve and just before you slipped back into the chaos, he gave you a look. The same one you remembered from that hot summer evening in your room as you packed your life into boxes. A look that put fire to the embers lying dormant in your chest and something you thought had been extinguished flickered back to life.
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“Sam, hurry up, we’re going to be late!”
“I’m trying. You know how much I hate being outside. These stupid boots are too tight and–” Sam grunted, leaning over to tug at his socks, “–these are itchy as hell.”
“You don’t have to wear them, but your legs are gonna get bit up and scratched on the trail,” you shook your head, yanking your own worn-in boots onto your feet.
“Bit? Are you kidding me?”
“What? It’s summer, there are a ton of bugs out right now.”
Sam sucked in a breath and put his face in his hands, standing on the other side of the bed from you. He’d agreed to it at first, thought maybe it might be a quaint little jaunt through a park, but when he realized it was an actual hike up the bluff just outside Hawkins – in nature – he’d thrown a fit.
It was one of your favorite places, a special piece of home, and you were going to go with or without him.
“Just stay home, Sam. It’s fine,” you huffed, kicking your suitcase shut, tugging your ponytail through the back of your baseball cap.
“You know what? Maybe I will. This whole place is too much. Jason’ll get beers with me,” he growled under his breath, yanking his boots off to get to his socks, “Enjoy your hike.”
“Great, thanks, will do,” you almost left the room without saying goodbye, but something made you hesitate and you paused for a second at the door, eyes squeezed shut. Why was everything so damn hard? This was supposed to be easy.
The happiest day of your life.
Resigned, you turned around and retraced the few steps over to Sam. “I’ll see you when we’re back,” you muttered, bending down and brushing a hasty kiss to his cheek.
“See you,” he didn’t meet your gaze, instead scowling at the ground and it was the push you needed to leave, the weight on your shoulders lifting as you hurried down the stairs and out the door.
The sun was just coming up, painting the sky cotton candy pinks and blurred warm tangerines. You could feel the heat already and as you got out of your car at the bluff the feeling of the sun on your bare legs pulled a heavy sigh from your lungs. Breathing out the stress and pressure of the last few days and you closed your eyes for a minute, leaning against the warmth of your car.
It would be okay. Today was for you. This was for you.
Opening them again you heard another car rumbling up the dirt road behind you and when you turned around you grinned so big your cheeks started to hurt.
“OH MY GOD,” Robin squealed. She practically leapt out of the backseat of Steve’s BMW and ran over to you, gathering you up in her arms and squeezing tight. “What the hell! You look amazing! Shit. Is this like, pre-wedding glow or did you stop eating meat or something? I hear it’s like, totally bad for your skin.”
“Robin,” Steve shook his head as he shut his car door before walking around to get Robin’s too.
“What? All legitimate questions! Right, Eds?” she shot back.
“I mean, not the first thing I’d ask,” Eddie replied with a grin, but you could hear the softness of him behind it.
“Alright, well I wouldn’t expect you to know anyway. Weddings are like a foreign language to you plebs,” Robin said simply, clicking her fanny pack around her waist.
“Hey, that’s not fair, I know enough,” Steve chimed in, propping a hand on his hip and giving Robin a look.
“Children, not about us today!” Eddie chided, following after Robin and gathering you up into one of his bear hugs. “Hi, sweetheart,” he held you out at arm’s length and gave you a warm Eddie smile.
“Hi,” you grinned back, the happiest you’d been in days just listening to the comforting sound of your friends bickering, “Missed you.”
“Mmm, you too,” Eddie hummed, shooting a quick glance over at Steve. “Some of us more than others,” he said a bit quieter, bringing his eyes back to you and you felt your cheeks flush.
“Okay, hike?” you deflected, then accusingly looked back at Eddie, “You’re not still smoking are you?”
“Only on Wednesdays,” he flipped back casually, but you knew he was full of shit.
“Munson, you’re a horrible liar,” Steve drawled, rolling his eyes, starting the walk to the edge of the bluff. “Nance and Jonathan are already at the top,” he said over his shoulder, “Jonathan wanted to get a time lapse of the sunrise.”
“Oh, sick,” Eddie clapped his hands, “I gotta see it. C’mon, Buckley get with it.” He waved an arm forward, pulling Robin into a jog and you shook your head with a soft laugh as you caught up with Steve. Starting up the bluff two by two.
The sounds of everything coming to life swirled around the four of you as you walked. The buzz of the insects, birds chirping their morning songs and tractors rumbling to life in the fields alongside the bluff.
Home.
“God, the last time we were up here was so Dustin could talk to Suzie,” Steve half-laughed, Eddie and Robin walking just ahead of you. You grinned at the memory.
“Oh no,” you shook your head, “They might be worse than we are at singing.”
“Didn’t think it was possible to be honest,” he teased gently, smiling over at you, looking for a long moment before dropping his gaze back down to his feet.
You could feel his eyes on you and the warmth of it filled you up and spilled over at the edges, making you happier than you’d been in a long time and a tiny pinch of guilt squeezed in your chest.
“Thanks for getting up so early,” you exhaled, breaths getting heavier as the incline of the bluff steepened, Steve pulling in a breath next to you.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ve slept in since high school,” he waved you off, “Managing a store’s got me up ass early every day. Besides, wouldn’t miss it.” Arms swinging at your sides, his fingers brushed against yours as you walked and the embers in your chest glowed bright.
“Yeah,” you sighed, wishing that for once Sam had come along. That he’d put even a little bit of effort into your interests. That he’d care even a fraction of what Steve cared and the embers flickered again with your frustration.
“You two are slow as hell!” Eddie teased and when you looked up you saw he and Robin had been moving much faster than you and Steve. “I’m smoking a victory cigarette at the top!” he yelled and Robin smacked him, both of them dissolving into laughter.
“C’mon, that asshole doesn’t need another cigarette,” Steve’s brow furrowed in frustration and he picked up the pace, pulling you along with him as he lengthened his stride.
Jonathan and Nancy were waiting for the four of you at the top and, much to Eddie’s dismay, Robin beat him by a couple of feet, stealing his cigarettes and jamming them into her fanny pack as punishment.
Jonathan had asked Nancy to marry him two years ago now, Christmas eve under the tree at the farm and they’d eloped that spring there on top of the bluff. It had been a small, but sweet ceremony, with only family and close friends. Perfectly Nance and Jonathan and as you thought back on it your stomach twisted with a longing feeling.
As you sat scattered among the long grass in pairs – Eddie and Robin, Nancy and Jonathan, you and Steve – a breeze picked up and blew through the wildflowers around you, taking then with it and you watched as the buttercups danced in the wind.
You wanted wildflowers. Not peonies and eucalyptus.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Steve’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked over at him, sat close enough to you in the grass that you could see all the little moles and freckles that dotted down the line of his jaw, his neck, the exposed skin along the top of his shirt.
“Flowers,” fell out and you didn’t shy away from him, meeting his gaze.
“Flowers?” he asked, brow knitting together in confusion.
“Stupid flowers. And cake. And nature and socks and–”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. What are you talking about?” Steve scooted closer to you, your legs pressing together as you sat facing each other and he put a hand on your knee.
Your throat tightened and you felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you willed them away. Not here. You didn’t mean it.
“Hey,” he said softer, hand lifting from your knee to press into yours and you blinked hastily, pulling in a breath to steady yourself.
“I don’t know,” you started, closing your eyes for a minute, trying to ground yourself. “I just–I thought this would be easier. We’re supposed to be in love and planning this should be fun, but it sucks and he–” catching yourself you looked back up at Steve and felt him squeeze your hand. “I’m sorry, it’s just stress. I shouldn’t–”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Steve said, thumb brushing over the bump of your knuckles, soft and warm and reassuring.
He was looking at you again like he had at the welcome party, like you were the only thing that existed in that moment and you felt yourself moving closer, your legs hovering over his with the lack of space.
“I wish Sam would look at me like that,” you whispered and Steve’s lips parted in surprise, anticipation grabbing hold of both of you as the wind picked up again.
“He’s an idiot if he doesn’t,” Steve whispered back, leaning closer still and you could feel his breath as it warmed over your cheek. The scent of his shampoo and spearmint gum and cedar and wildflowers flooding your brain and making everything feel hazy. His eyes all bright amber and flecks of gold in the sun. Closer and closer and closer and–
“Harrington! You left the food in the car!”
Leaning back from each other you felt the tension shatter with the bark of Eddie’s voice and you leapt to your feet.
“God, what a dingus,” Robin grumbled, “Now we gotta go back down.”
“Hey,” Steve scrambled to his feet ignoring them, grabbing your hand in his, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just–I forgot I have to meet with the baker today about the cake this morning.”
“Oh,” Steve’s expression was edged with concern and he let your hand drop as the others started moving to the top of the trail.
“Rehearsal dinner is tonight right?” Robin asked offhandedly, grabbing a piece of licorice from her fanny pack.
“You have licorice in there and didn’t offer me any?” Eddie accused.
“Yeah, tonight at seven at Hop and Joyce’s farm,” you said, trying to sound casual, but the warm feeling of Steve was still holding you tightly.
“Open bar?” Eddie grinned.
“Oh my god, Munson. Shut up,” Robin chided, shoving him as they all wandered down the path in a line, you and Steve bringing up the rear.
“Course it’s open bar,” you tried to laugh, but it fell short, everything feeling like it was crumbling now.
The breeze picked up, swirling around your feet, carrying spearmint and Steve’s shampoo and boy with it and as you watched the bachelor buttons sway with the wind you felt a thought gnawing at the back of your mind.
What if.
There was still time.
Nothing’s permanent.
People change their minds all the time and…
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Come over here. All you've got is this moment, twenty-first century's yesterday. You can care all you want, everybody does, yeah, that's okay.
“Chug, chug, chug!” “Don’t be a pussy, Jason!” “No way, he’s too old!”
It felt like you were back in high school throwing a rager over at Tina Rochester’s house not having drinks after your rehearsal dinner, but after most of the ‘adults’ had all gone home things got carried away.
Hop and Joyce’s farm was far enough outside of town that the noise wouldn’t bother anyone and thank god because it was loud. Maybe open bar hadn’t been the best idea, but Sam was having a great time, smiling and laughing for once and you didn’t fight it. You were having fun too.
“Ohhh! He did it!!” “Get that man a medal!”
Jason Carver, Sam’s best man, crushed his empty beer can under his foot to whoops and hollers. You weren’t sure who started it, but someone had told someone else they could shotgun a beer faster and it spiraled from there. Sam was in his element, partying alongside the other ex-basketball players, and for a minute you felt like maybe things would be okay.
Gathering you up in his arms, Sam spun you in a circle, pressing his lips messy and drunk against your cheek. “God, babe. Should be illegal to look that good,” he slurred into your ear, arms still holding you tight as he lowered you slowly back to the ground.
A grin tugged at the corners of your lips. “Gonna write me a ticket?” you teased and he reached a hand around to grab at your ass.
“Maybe I will,” he breathed and you felt a shiver run down your spine, but then a voice pulled him away.
“Sam? Oh my god!”
Carol and Tommy. Great.
“Carol?? I didn’t think y’all were getting here til tomorrow! Tommy, you look like shit,” Sam barked a laugh and lunged at his old friend, grabbing him around the waist and pushing him across the patio.
“Fuck off, you’re one to talk,” Tommy growled back, digging his hands into Sam’s ribs and both of them fell back into their old selves. Talking about a couple of friends that had gone pro, work, what married life was like for Tommy and Carol.
“Babe, go get me another beer, huh?” Sam said over his shoulder and you rolled your eyes, but giving Carol a quick hug you made your way over to the keg.
Priming the tap you started to pour beer into a cup, but it sputtered and choked before spilling foam and you frowned. “Piece of shit,” kicking the keg you shook the garbage can it was sitting in and tried again, but this time nothing came out.
“Need a hand?”
Eyes still on the keg you sighed, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you dumped the foam in your cup onto the ground. “Tapped already,” you grumbled, turning around to see Steve grinning at you, hands jammed in his pockets, tie loose and hanging around his neck and you swore he was the most handsome human being you’d ever laid eyes on.
“Hmm, I don’t think so,” he took the last few steps toward you and primed the tap again, giving the keg one firm shake, and grabbed the cup from you. Foam started coming out and you jammed your tongue into your cheek.
“Ha! Told you–”
But then the foam turned into cold, amber beer, and you clamped your mouth shut.
“You were saying?” Steve teased and you shoved him, spilling some of the beer that he’d just poured into your cup on the ground. “Hey! You’re a menace,” he chided softly, shouldering you back, but grabbing the spout again he filled the cup once more and handed it back to you.
“Thanks,” you muttered, glancing over at him as you took a sip.
“Sam seems to be having a good time,” he commented, finding a cup of his own and filling it.
“Yeah, right back to high school.” You watched as your fiance, Tommy, and Jason all snickered and laughed at each other, talking about ‘the good old’ days, and your smile fell.
You couldn’t remember the last time he laughed like that with you. When he was drinking he got more handsy, liked to keep you close to his side and brag about how you were about to get married, but nothing about how hard you worked or the fact that you were saving up to buy a place.
“I dunno,” Steve sighed, taking a drink of his beer, “I don’t miss it.”
“Me either,” you agreed, glancing up at him, and your heart stopped.
God he was pretty. The string of lights that wound around the property washed him in a warm glow. Hair falling out of place as the night spun on, the line of his jaw cast in half light, dark and strong, the long sweep of his lashes as he blinked and looked down at you, the way his lips pulled up into that smile.
“What?” Steve asked, tone amused and playful and your eyes grew wide.
“What?” you echoed stupidly.
Steve laughed and gave you a lopsided smile. “You tell me, you’re the one zoning out,” he teased and your cheeks flushed.
“Oh, n-nothing,” you stumbled over your words and quickly filled the silence with another gulp of beer.
“Okay, well when it comes back to you lemme know.” His eyes lingered on yours for just a moment longer and then a look came over him. Like he remembered something. “Oh, hey. C’mere a minute,” and then he was grabbing your hand and pulling you around the side of the barn.
As he pulled you into motion you felt just how buzzed you were and a giggle pushed itself through your lips. “What the hell are we doing?” you asked, Steve loosing a laugh of his own as he yanked you both to a stop a few yards away from the party out in the long grass of Hop’s field.
“There,” he said pointing up and you followed the line of his arm into the sky until your eyes landed on it.
“Oh,” you breathed, pulling your gaze back to Steve as he looked up into the inky black expanse of the Indiana night. He was just how you remembered him. Hair messed, all boyish and eyes full of wonder and curiosity, just like he’d been those years ago that night in his backyard while you floated in his pool.
“Yeah, that one. Right there,” Steve swam closer to you, grabbing your arm, fingers folding yours in to make a point and tugging it up over your head.
Your breath hitched in your throat as his legs brushed against yours under the water and it took everything you had in you to pull your eyes from him to look up.
“See it?”
“That one?” you asked, pointing on your own, and he nodded as your eyes trailed up the line of your arm to land on an especially bright star.
“Mmhm,” Steve murmured and all you wanted was to look at him again, so you did. “While you’re gone you can just look up at that at night and think of me,” he said matter-of-fact, giving you one of his lopsided grins.
“What if we’re not looking at the same time?”
“I’ll always be looking,” Steve’s voice was barely above a whisper and the way he looked at you made you feel like you might melt. Blinking water from your lashes you lifted a hand to his cheek and at your touch his hands slipped along the bare skin of your waist, sliding down to your hips as he slowly pulled you into him.
The pool filter was humming heavy between the all crickets and frogs and lightning bugs, but you knew the thudding of your heartbeat was louder than all of it.
Wrapping your legs around Steve’s torso, you laced your fingers at the back of his neck, wanting him closer and tighter. Hair messed and flat against his forehead, his lips were parted as he breathed you in, water dripping off the end of his nose and eyes glittering in the pool lights, burnt caramel and honey and if he hadn’t been holding onto you, you would’ve floated away.
His fingers pressed into the soft skin at your hips and you sucked in a small gasp.
“Sorry,” he whispered, and you shook your head in reply. It’s okay. And then he gently pressed his thumb to the corner of your lips, swallowing against his nerves, and asked, “Can I kiss you?”
Heart racing, fingers still tangled at the back of his neck you whispered, “Yes.”
“Remember when we found it?”
Steve’s question brought you hurtling back to the present and you shook your head, heart racing in your chest like it had that night in his pool. “Of course I remember,” you murmured, and you knew you were crossing a line, knew you shouldn’t have done it, knew Sam was just around the other side of the barn, but something in you snapped. Shifted. Decided it didn’t care and you took Steve’s hand in yours.
His eyes flicked down to where they were joined and then back up to you, “But–”
“We’re friends,” you reasoned softly, “Friends hold hands.”
“Are we?” he asked and you swore you felt your heart crack as your fingers scrambled to tangle up with his.
“Yeah. Yes. We are,” your words came spilling out, the beer spidering warm and hazy through your body as you tried to justify your action and Steve’s brows furrowed as he dropped his gaze.
“I should go,” he said and regret gripped you like a vice.
“Don’t, please don’t,” your tone was almost pleading, watching as Steve’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, working through his own decision and you thought for a minute he would cave like he always did for you, but then his hand was untangling from yours and the ache in your chest was almost enough to pull tears from your eyes.
“You’re getting married tomorrow,” he said, voice thick and low, and when he opened his eyes finally to look at you, you saw a thousand I’m sorrys, all the regret and lingering kisses on hot summer nights and promises whispered in the dark and you shook your head.
“But it’s not–we can’t–please stay,” nothing you said made sense and Steve ran a hand through his hair, pulling his lip between his teeth.
“Get some sleep. I’ll see you at the church.”
And as you watched his figure walk away, silhouetted and dark against the indigo sky, your star blinking bright above you, you felt tears finally well up and spill down your cheeks.
Sucking in a breath you turned back to the the wide open expanse of field behind you and buried your face in your hands, trying to calm down, willing the tears to stop, telling yourself that you loved Sam. You were getting married. The ring on your finger a constant reminder of what was supposed to happen tomorrow and when you finally lifted your head from your hands your eyes fell on a bright patch there in the field at your feet.
Wildflowers.
Walking back to the party felt like a blur, Steve’s words playing over and over in your mind, and when you came back into the glow of the strung up lights your eyes searched frantically for Sam. If you could just hold his hand, pull him in close you’d know you loved him. Would know you wanted to marry him, but he wasn’t there and everything felt like it was unraveling.
“Hey, are you okay?” Robin’s hand was at your elbow and when you looked up at her, her brow furrowed with worry. “Whoa, what happened?”
“I just need to find Sam, have you seen him?”
“Yeah, yeah I think he was just over here, c’mon. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I just need Sam,” you choked out, Robin’s hand grabbing yours and pulling you along.
“Okay, we’ll find him, it’ll be okay.”
And as you rounded the corner into the quiet of the barn you heard hushed voices. Robin flicked on the overhead lighting to reveal Carol and Sam talking, huddled close to one another and your heart stopped in your chest.
“Wha–Sam? Carol?”
Carol’s eyes went wide and she took a couple steps back, giving you one of her smiles, all flimsy and saccharine sweet. “Oh my god, we thought you left!” she exclaimed, trying a laugh and you heard Robin mumble something under her breath next to you.
“Well, I didn’t. It’s my rehearsal dinner.”
“Babe, we were just trying to plan a surprise for you. For tomorrow, that’s all,” Sam said, taking the few steps toward you, taking your hand in his, but you felt sick to your stomach. You knew that look in his eye, his tone of voice overcompensating for something, lying.
“Yeah! Totally,” Carol said a little too enthusiastically and Robin had had enough.
“Oh my god, totally great!” she mocked, throwing one of Carol’s empty smiles back at her before taking your hand. “It’s super late, Carol. Time to go,” this time Robin’s voice was void of all joking and the look she gave the other girl was enough to push her to leave.
“Absolutely, sure thing. See you tomorrow! Can’t wait,” she purred, but her smile faltered as she met your gaze, walking quickly back out into the night.
“Babe, we really were planning a surprise, I–I just want tomorrow to be perfect,” Sam took your hand from Robin, shouldering her out of the way and she scoffed, still lingering in case you needed her.
“In here? In the dark?” your voice wobbled a bit as you realized what you were implying and Sam squeezed your hand, but it felt suffocating not warm or safe like Steve and you pulled it away. “I’m gonna go home, get some sleep.”
“Of course, baby. Whatever you need,” Sam crowded around you, rubbing your shoulders and pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, but you didn’t want any of it and shrugged him off.
“Can you give me a ride, Robs?” you asked, pulling away from Sam, your feet not moving you fast enough.
“Yeah, yeah I can give you a ride,” Robin took your hand again, Sam finding himself alone in the wide expanse of the barn on the eve of your wedding.
The happiest day of your life.
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“Listen, can I tell you something?” Robin said shifting into park as she turned down the radio and idled in your parents’ driveway.
“Sure,” your voice was small, timid, not you as your thoughts still lingered on what Steve had said. What Sam and Carol had looked like huddled close together in Hop’s barn. Asking yourself why. Asking yourself what you really wanted.
“I don’t think you should get married.”
Your head whipped up from your lap, brows knitted together. “What?”
“I don’t think you should get married,” Robin said again voice softer this time, knowing the weight it carried as she let it settle in the car between you.
“It’s literally happening tomorrow. What d’you mean don’t get married,” you were scrambling now, afraid of what would happen if you let her woods take root, the doubt that had been hovering deep down now pushing itself front and center.
“People do it all the time–”
“No, they don’t!” tears were welling up against your lashes, your face growing hot, willing yourself not to fall apart.
“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. Of course I’m gonna support you no matter what you decide,” Robin quickly recovered, grabbing your hands in hers as her expression softened. “Just–” a small sigh escaped her and she squeezed your hand, “–I want you to be happy. That’s all. Are you happy?”
Are you happy?
Robin looked at you, eyes wide, hands still holding onto yours and you felt yourself wrestling with the three simple words she’d thrown at you. Swallowing thickly, you couldn’t meet her gaze and pulled your hands away, grabbing at the door handle.
“I’m happy, I am,” and even you knew how flimsy it sounded, but your friend didn’t push you on it.
“Okay, okay. See you in the morning,” Robin said softly and all you could do was nod in reply before shutting the door and hurrying up the walk and into your parents’ house.
You didn’t bother showering as you moved quickly up the stairs to your room, not wanting to face your parents, not like this. Quietly shutting your door you felt the sob in your chest clawing its way up your throat and you tried to swallow it down as you threw back your covers and hid in the deep pile of blankets. You thought for a split second to call Sam over at Jason’s, ask him if he really loved you, if he still wanted to go through with this, but you buried your face into your pillow and tried to push your thoughts away.
Doubt had started blooming in the pit of your stomach from the moment you’d said yes, but it had just felt like the next right thing. Felt like you were supposed to. Date your boyfriend for a couple of years, move in together, get married. Right? But the things you tried hard to ignore kept bubbling up.
Your hesitation when Sam first asked you out. Your trips home on breaks and seeing Steve. The feelings you wrestled with when you saw him. When he talked to you and listened, really listened and looked at you. How it felt like a giant weight being lifted from your shoulders without Sam there.
Your first fight with Sam over money. How he spent so much of it going out with his friends. How you knew they stayed out late and talked to other girls. The high he got from it too much to stop him from doing it. The smell of the other girls on his clothes.
The first time he cheated on you and begged you to take him back. How the first person you wanted to call was Steve, but you called Robin instead.
And now the planning. All the disagreements and arguing and fighting and you were exhausted and he couldn’t even keep away from other women, from Carol, still after all that time.
Are you happy?
Robin’s question looped in your head and you knew the real answer.
No. But then…
Tap. Tap, tap tap.
Peeking your head out from under your covers your ears strained, trying to decide what it was you’d heard. Then it happened again.
Tap, tap. Tap.
There was only one thing that could make that sound, an all too familiar one that pulled forth a flood of precious, happy memories.
Rocks on your window.
Steve.
Crawling out of your bed you hurried to your window and yarded it open, sticking your head out and looking down like you’d done hundreds of times before. “Steve?” you hissed into the dark, and as the wind blew the clouds away from the moon, it shone down on the lawn below you washing Steve in soft light.
“Can I come up?”
You bit your bottom lip between your teeth, but knew there was no debate. “Yeah, hurry up,” and you moved out of the way as he started climbing the gutter before you’d even said yes.
Stumbling in through the open window Steve straightened up and dusted off his old, faded Hawkins High Athletics shirt, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging on his hips, the same pair of dirty, beat up Blazers on his feet.
“Hi,” he said awkwardly, tongue jammed into his cheek as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Hi?” it came out expectantly, a question, but you couldn’t hide the relief in your voice at the sight of him standing there in your room.
“Listen, I just wanted to say sorry. For earlier,” he said, walking to your bed and plopping down on the messed up covers.
“Oh, that’s okay, I shouldn’t have–”
“Just let me apologize,” he said shaking his head with a half laugh, expression mismatched as it twisted with something between regret and care.
So you listened and kept your mouth shut, instead deciding to settle down next to him on your bed, thighs pressed together on the small twin sized mattress. Silence lingered for a minute, but the air was heavy, loaded, like how it felt right before a thunderstorm. The sky holding its breath before opening up and pouring rain, cracking the sky in half with bright streaks of light.
You both stole a look at the same time and it pulled a smile from each of you, tiny breathy laughs falling from your lips, but when it quieted again the tension flooded back in.
“Do you love him?” Steve broke the quiet and you felt your chest tighten. When you hesitated he grabbed your hand in his. “Do you?”
Your pulse fluttered against your neck, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water and stumbling and choking on your words, but you knew the answer. You both did. You’d just admitted it to yourself before Steve had fallen through your window and the familiar feeling of panic started to creep in around you, flinging you back to right before you’d left home again. Before you met Sam.
“Steve! Wait!”
You were practically running after him as he stalked back to his car, the sky on fire with the sunset and streaked in cherry reds, sunflower yellows, and bright tangerine.
He fumbled with his keys and dropped them into the grass at his feet, “Shit.”
“Please, just wait,” you were out of breath as you finally reached him and you saw his frame crumple as he loosed a sigh.
“Jesus, what?” his tone was short, clipped as he stared through his car window, your reflection playing against the glass.
“It’s only for another year, it’s not like I’m gonna be gone for–”
“Yeah! Another year!” Steve spun around to face you, cheeks red and lips pulled down into a frown, a muddied mixture of sadness and anger swimming in his eyes. “Just admit it, you don’t wanna come back here, and that’s fine! But don’t make me wait. Please don’t make me wait anymore. It–” Steve choked on his words and dropped his eyes to his feet, biting on the inside of his cheek to blunt the feelings swelling his chest. “It hurts. To sit and wait here for you. Please,” his voice edged on pleading and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.
“It’ll work! It’s just a little longer–”
Steve took a step into you, crowding over you, and you felt your heart stutter in your chest at the closeness of him. He lifted a hand to your cheek, his brows pulling together as he looked down at you, eyes searching yours. “Then be with me. If it’s not that long then be with me. Long distance for a little while until you’re done with school,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.
“Steve. I can’t–” your throat tightened around what you were about to say, scared of what that commitment looked like, scared to fuck it up between you, scared to lose your best friend, but your hesitation broke it anyway.
He dropped his hand away from your cheek, tongue flicking out to run along his lips as he held back his anger. His sadness. Frustration. Snatching his keys from the grass he unlocked the driver side door and flung it open rough.
“No! Wait! I just mean–”
“No!” he shouted into his car and then lowered his voice, tears streaming silently down his cheeks, “No. No more. Good luck with…everything.” And he piled into his car, slamming the door shut and ignoring your cries as you crowded against his window, asking him to stay. To talk about it. To figure things out, but he shifted it in drive and took off down your driveway and into the night.
You weren’t going to fuck it up. Not again.
“No,” and as your admission left your lips the heavy weight that had settled on your shoulders over the last two years started to melt away. “No. I don’t love him.”
Steve’s hold on you tightened, pressing your fingers into his palm and he lifted his free hand to your cheek, eyes searching yours, “Don’t marry him.”
Don’t marry him.
Your breath quickened and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to reason out what you’d just decided and you felt anxious, but Steve was there. And your room was warm and safe. Just like it was when you were younger. When you both laughed and traded secrets and made promises to each other in the dark.
“But. The wedding. The flowers, the cake, the guests–”
“Fuck ‘em,” Steve said, still holding onto your hand, and his words swirled around in your head. “It’s only a wedding. This is your life,” brushing the rough pad of his thumb across your cheek you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, “You’re not happy.”
And you weren’t. You’d had moments with Sam, moments in time where things felt right and like maybe it could be forever, but they were just that. Moments. It shouldn’t be this hard. You’d sacrificed, compromised, bent and twisted yourself to be what Sam wanted, what he needed, not what you wanted and when you finally looked up at Steve you felt tears welling up against your lashes.
“What will my mom say,” your voice wobbled as you tangled your fingers with Steve’s and he gave you a small, reassuring smile.
“She wants you to be happy too. She’ll be okay.”
You were dizzy, hazy with thoughts of not being engaged anymore, buzzing with the anticipation of what this decision meant. Of what it held. What the future could be and you looked back up at Steve, tears started to quietly spill down your cheeks and his hand was quick to gently wipe them away. You shook your head, holding your breath, and when you let it go everything came tumbling out.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for making you wait. For hurting you. For everything–”
“Shh, it’s okay,” Steve softly chided, but you pressed on.
“No, no it’s my turn,” you said, voice thick through your tears, and then you turned to cup Steve’s face in your hands. A small smile pulled up at the corners of your mouth even through your crying and you pulled in a breath, “I love you, Stevie. I always have.”
The look on his face then was one of pure adoration, of relief, and he gave you a smile back, “I know. I love you too.”
I love you too.
Pulling him into you, you felt the soft warmth of his breath across your cheek, the smell of his shampoo and fresh laundry flooding your senses. Hesitating, waiting for him to tell you it was okay and he silently answered you by leaning in and closing the gap between your lips, pressing his softly into yours.
It was slow and languid, a thousand I love yous. Years of want and aching set free into the dark of your room as you breathed each other in like air. The feeling of Steve scattering you out into the stars to live with the one you’d deemed as yours, falling between all the glittering constellations and floating in each other.
I love you too.
Reluctantly Steve pulled away from you, eyes fluttering open to look into yours and he took hold of your waist. “Run away with me,” he whispered.
Your brows pulled together, “Run away?”
“Yeah. Right now. Throw your suitcase in my car and we’ll just drive. Get away from everything, just for a little while until you’re ready.”
Mind racing, working through the logistics of what he was suggesting, you almost protested, but something in you fought back. Told you to listen to your heart, not your head. What did you want? What would make you happy?
“Okay.”
“Really?” Steve’s face lit up at your response, like he hadn’t expected it, and you felt your lips pull up into a smile, tears drying on your cheeks as you let the feeling swallow you up in its warmth. The embers in your chest crackling and flickering with life, with a fire that burned only for him.
“Yeah, yeah I don’t care. I just want to be with you,” you felt yourself grow more and more confident, more decided and Steve pulled you in again to press another kiss to your lips. This time it was hotter, bolder, a confession of passion and you grinned into him.
“C’mon, if we go now we can get coffee at that shitty diner just off the highway outside of town,” he was grinning now too.
“They make the best pancakes,” you laughed softly and Steve’s smile melted as he looked at you.
Finally.
He helped you gather your things, carrying your suitcase out to his car, and you felt like you could fly. Lighter than you’d been in years and the thought of just driving down the road with him filled you with warmth. Like watching the sun set at the end of a hot summer day. Like dipping your feet in the pool after sitting in the heat. Sweet like the taste that followed after a tart drink of lemonade.
You left your engagement ring on your dresser, a small folded note under it for Sam telling him sorry. Telling him you hoped he would find what he wanted. That you knew he’d be okay. And as you closed the door to your parents’ house you felt like you were closing that chapter. Ready to start new. To free fall into this open-ended story with Steve and as you settled into his car your eyes caught a small patch of lawn on the side of your house. Bright and soft in the moonlight and full of color.
Wildflowers.
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist
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topsyturvy-turtely · 3 months
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turtely's OTP challenge
read day 26 on ao3: (let's just ignore that i am already two days behind and always post the tumblr post a day too late too)
summary: John visits Sherlock's parents for the first time. But Sherlock is way more nerrvous than John.
Gen, 1.573 words, Domestic Fluff. Awkwardness, Family, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
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here is a snippet:
☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙
"Which shirt should I wear?" Sherlock held out two identical looking white dress shirts.
"Uhm,... the left one?" John tried.
"Are you sure? It's very tight..." Sherlock looked at the shirts.
John smirked, "I don't mind."
With an exaggerated movement, Sherlock lowered the shirts. "John. These are my parents we are talking about!"
"Right. Okay. The left one then."
"Really? It is cream and might not work as well with the black suit..."
"Sherlock. I don't care what you wear. You look amazing either way."
"But-"
John just couldn't help himself. He snorted with laughter.
"What's so funny?" Sherlock actually looked offended.
John got up from his armchair. "Nothing. It's just..." he walked over to his boyfriend, slid his hands down on his arms. "I am meeting your parents for the first time and you seem more nervous than I am."
"John. You don't know how they are. They..."
John pressed his lips on his. "It's gonna be alright, babe."
The kiss had calmed Sherlock a little, but he still looked worried.
☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙
tags under the cut 😊
tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed please 💚) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @catlock-holmes @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence @jawnscoffee @raenchaosandcozyadashofmurder @lisbeth-kk @quickslvxrr @compact-and-beautiful @kabubsmagga @sunshineinyourmind
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aestheticaltcow · 2 months
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Coffee Run
Sydney "Syd" Adamu x Reader
Someone requested a Syd x fem reader story a few months ago, and here it is!
The Bear Masterlist
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“Syd, it’s my turn to do the pick-up. You do it every time, and it’s not fair to you,” Natalie scolded as she watched Syd pull her coat on. 
Syd waved off the concern, “Psh, don’t stress it, Natalie. I don’t mind doing it.” she was out the door before Natalie could even respond. Pick-up orders from the coffee shop down the street were the highlight of Sy’d shift these past few weeks.
The owner- Jake or James- Syd couldn’t remember his name outside the fact he was some J-named millennia man who knew little about food but a lot about business. At the beginning of the summer, he came by with a flyer advertising his coffee shop's new summer menu items. Richie joked about him being a narc but admitted the shop made a good cup of coffee. 
Everyone had taken a turn doing pick-up orders, and when it was finally Syd’s turn, she met you, and the short interaction the two of you shared felt like it was going in slow motion. 
You were standing by the intricate espresso machine, quickly whisking matcha. Syd noticed the colorful friendship bracelets adorning your wrists first. Then, the neon rainbow chrome nails. Your fingers were decorated with a mix of chunky acrylic rings and a few shiny gold rings. Syd swallowed softly and nervously walked up to the counter. You called out that you’d help her in a moment, but Syd didn’t know how to respond.
As you turned to look at Syd, she immediately noticed your expertly drawn winged eyeliner and the little bat septum ring. She knew you were queer- or at least curious…
“Hi i’m Y/N. Welcome to The Barn, what can I get started for you babe?” your dazzling smile and plush pillowy lips were even more intriguing than your jewelry. Syd was sure she had a stupid starstruck look plastered across her face. 
“Uh, pick up order?” Syd managed to answer your question with a question that made you giggle in response. “Are you one of The Bears?” you asked. Syd’s eyes narrowed as she thought of an answer, “Sorta? I’m the CDC.”
Syd’s explanation left you confused; Syd noticed and quickly clarified, “Chef de cuisine- sorta like a kitchen manager. I collaborate with the chef execuif- head chef- Carmy. Short blonde guy with a stick up his ass.” 
You laughed at the explanation of Carmy and quickly asked, “So you’re like the second in command?” Syd nodded and watched as you picked up a travel tray of drinks and set it on the counter. “Here’s your order…” you trailed off as you turned away to grab a small paper pastry bag, “You like raspberry jelly cookies?” 
Syd nodded, and your smile grew larger, revealing a small green crystal on your incisor. “Then here is a free cookie. I’m a bit of a baker, and Jeremy- the owner, lets me try new recipes sometimes.”  
“Thank you. Oh, I’m Syd, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Syd. Have a good rest of your day.” 
~
“There’s my favorite regular. Hey Syd!” you greeted as Syd walked into the coffee shop that afternoon. Syd grinned in response to your greeting and walked toward the counter. You put down the inventory checklist you’d been finalizing and went over to the register. “How you doin’ babe?”
“Confused, overworked, and underappreciated. The Carmy special.” Syd laughed as she leaned her palms against the redwood counter. “Sounds like my hard-workin’ girl could use a fudge espresso brownie.” you casually flirted, hoping today would be the day she’d ask for your phone number or at least your Instagram handle.
“You know the way to my heart, Y/N.” Syd smiled, making you blush. 
After you handed Syd the drink tray and brownie, you sighed. “Syd, are you into girls?” the question came off more bluntly than you’d intended and Syd looked taken aback slightly but slowly nodded. “Okay. I’m in a band, we’re doing a garage sow on Wednesday- you should come.” 
“I’ll be there.” Syd smiled as she put the tray back down on the counter. She then pulled her phone out of her pocket and quickly unlocked it before handing it to you. “Put your number in, and I’ll text you tonight for the details.” 
“Cool. Have a good shift, Syd.” You smiled and handed her phone back. Your fingers grazed each other as she took it back. The promise of a text tonight and the idea of Syd coming to your show left your stomach fluttering for the rest of your shift.
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irelandking · 1 year
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biker au fic recs
bucky barnes x reader
❤️ = fluff 😔 = angst 🔥 = smut
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multiparts:
howlin' for you - @invisibleanonymousmonsters
When Y/N gets an unreal deal on her first home, she wonders why her neighbor scared away all the other buyers. Despite being cautious, she wonders why the town has given Bucky Barnes a bad name. ❤️🔥
business as usual - @world-of-aus
Part 2 & 3: More Than Business, More Than Business II biker x baker reader fluff, more parts coming ❤️
not my babe - @avecra
Part 2: you’ll never be alone After a nasty break up to a nearly two year relationship, you find yourself dragged to a bar by your best friend, though a familiar blue-eyed biker makes the best of your crappy situation. ❤️😔
biker masterlist - @angrythingstarlight
interconnected one shots ❤️🔥
delicate edges - @wkemeup
Your family’s beloved flower shop was not the only thing you inherited when your parents passed. Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, you bear the cost of your father’s desperate bargain. It’s only in moments when the charming Bucky Barnes walks into your shop that you can forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. The border is crumbling. You’re trapped in the middle. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe. ❤️🔥😔
one shots:
bumblebees and honeybees - @venusstorm
The time in which you gifted Bucky Barnes an adorable little keychain for his motorcycle. ❤️
the bogeyman and other monstrosities - @pellucid-constellations
As the local biker club president, Bucky Barnes had a reputation for being tougher than nails and feared by many—he’d never be caught dead at a halloween street fair. Too bad his best girl always got what she wanted ❤️
i saw you and i knew - @sinner-as-saint
You met Bucky unexpectedly at an unfamiliar bar one night - one of your last nights of freedom before your parents marry you off to some rich, young man. Bucky happened to be so different from all the men you had dated or you were used to seeing that it was a little bit of a surprise how reckless and open he was. You had been subconsciously looking for a way out of the situation you were in for days, so when Bucky makes you a rather unusual proposal; you accept immediately. And it ends up being one of the best things you ever agreed to. ❤️🔥
naughty & nice - @rookthorne
Presents took on many shapes and forms, this one, however, was likely to be your favourite. ❤️🔥
hot and cold - @bucksfucks
you & bucky had never gotten along, but when your ex-boyfriend ransom turns up at the same bar you’re at, bucky goes to every length to protect you 🔥❤️
drunk, dumped, and angry - @green-eyeddragonfanfiction
 After a nasty breakup, you go out drinking. After an absolute creep hits on you, you’re saved from a concussion by a mysterious, kind man, who reveals himself to be Bucky Barnes. The bar you’re in is a bit suspect, but you never expected him to be head of a biker gang. ❤️🔥
deny me - @drewbarymore
In which you feel like Bucky’s ashamed of you ❤️
best friends? nah. - @wicked-mind
Classic best friends don’t realize feelings for each other until someone points it out ❤️🔥
coffee. emergency. thighs - @angrythingstarlight
You told Bucky that the only time he's allowed to wake you up is under three conditions: He has coffee. It's an emergency. Or his head is between your thighs. And today, he really, really wants to wake you up. 🔥
thin ice - @angrythingstarlight
bucky has a few rules. the most important one is that you always have to tell your biker you love him before you leave the house. because 'i love you bucky' are his four favourite words ❤️🔥
an angel's confession - @rookthorne
Being the Angel on Bucky’s shoulder meant you were the voice of calm, of reason – it did not mean the most sinful chants would fall from your lips and render both of you speechless. Until the day that it did. 🔥
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grahamfilesstyleguide · 2 months
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Baker Street, Marylebone, City of Westminster, Greater London
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263adder · 7 months
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Found the best website for Slow Horses fans, look at this glossary for the SH's themselves (baby Coe's is the best, followed by Louisa):
Baker, Sid – A young, attractive agent who is sent to the slow horses for murky reasons. Injured in the line of duty and spirited to parts unknown. (SH)
Cartwright, River – Young, white, fair hair, grey eyes and a mole on his upper lip. Wannabe super spy/espionage royalty/screwup. In the first book his bungled call on a potential terror incident landed him on the slow horses where he’s been trapped ever since. (SH)
Coe, JK – Banker turned member of MI5, he’s a babe in the woods compared to cynicism and wiliness that his colleagues show. Sent to the slow horses by Dame Ingrid to hide one of her messy mistakes. Coe learns the hard way that “Kill the messenger” is not just a turn of phrase when you work for MI5. Full name, Jason Kevin. After a trauma he finds the one thing that works best to take the edge off is … murder? (TL)
Dander, Shirley – Short and built like a barrel. A new slow horse who gets a high from doing her job, also from cocaine. Partners up with fellow slow horse Marcus Longfellow. Former member of Comms department. Sent to Slough House after punching a colleague. (DL)
Guy, Louisa – Louisa was sent to the slow horses after she lost a suspect she was supposed to be tailing and a bunch of illegal guns ended up on the streets of London. She’s surprised when her relationship with Min Harper gives her a purpose and strength she forgot she had. Probably the most competent of the slow horses. (SH)
Harper, Min – Min ended up on the slow horses after leaving a top secret disk on the train. Sees an assignment from the untrustworthy “Spider” Webb as his way back into the big leagues. Two spy screw ups who form an unlikely connection. (SH)
Ho, Roddy “Clint” – Computer genius and social incompetent. Hacking skills – 99%, People skills – 1% Only thing keeping his people skills from rating a 0% is the existence of someone with even less. See “Jackson Lamb” Sent to the slow horses not because he did anything wrong but because no one can stand to be around him. (SH)
Lamb, Jackson – The famous, or infamous depending on who you ask, Cold War spy. A Cold Warrior whose closest brush with being PC was turning on a computer. Never found a nap not worth taking, belch not worth belching or fart not worth letting loose. The improbable creator and head of Slough House. Worked as a mirror-man in Berlin during the Cold War. (SH)
Longridge, Marcus – Bald with goatee, Black, carrying a few extra pounds. Special operator and potential plant in Slough House by the politically wily Diana Taverner. (DL)
Loy, Struan – A slow horse, single and with few prospects until Diana Taverner dangles a lifeline. (SH)
Moody, Jed – A former “Dog”, Herron’s name for MI5’s internal affairs/clean up squad, now put out to pasture with the Slow Horses. (R)
Standish, Catherine – Formerly the right hand of the head of the service, formerly a drunk, currently sober and the administrative force keeping Lamb’s Slough House running. Personally recruited to the slow horses by Lamb, perhaps as penance. (SH)
Tregorian, Moira – Office administrator bewildered she’s been sent to live with the slow horses. (SS)
White, Kay – A slow horse dropped a lifeline by Diana Taverner. (SH)
Wicinski, Alec “Lec”– MI5 analyst who learns the hard way that no good deed goes unpunished. Sent to the slow horses after learning too much about a German spy. Won’t be working as a model anytime soon. (TD)
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lipringlrh · 2 years
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babe ruth - lrh
summary: you and luke were verging on a relationship when everything went wrong. months later, is there still time to fix it? based off the song “babe ruth’ by COIN
an: i promised this a month ago but oh well. please send feedback + constructive criticism. requests are open. if you saw this before - no you didn’t .
pairing: luke hemming × genderneutral!reader
word count: ~2250
warnings: long ass love speech, cliche message timing, blasphemy (‘oh god’), fluff, bit of angst,
song lyrics in italics.
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Now that you’ve captured my heart
I’m just some criminal
I’m your falling star
It’d been almost a year since you and Luke had last seen each other. If either one of you were told that two years ago, neither would’ve believed that was possible. Since childhood, you and Luke had been attached at the hip yet within only a few months, the years that built up had burnt out into ash.
However, Luke had never forgotten about you. how could he? Friendships are hard to get over, even harder when it was a known fact you were in love with each other.
You’d never fully admitted to each other that you were in love - you just felt it. For years friends had told you how the other felt. You never believed it; until you did.
You spent hours in each other’s embrace, holding hands, kissing. You acted entirely like a couple. You both found out you were in love with each other on the same night: a party at Calum’s house on a random Thursday.
You’d overheard Luke telling Calum how he was utterly besotted by you, and when he turned around and saw you, you told him you reciprocated his feelings. But nothing changed.
You both adored the way you acted and wanted no chance you’d ever not be together so you decided to stay friends. You didn’t date so you could stay close forever but that just led you further apart. Ironic, isn’t it?
Now that I’m busy
I broke it all down
I miss you coming over, yeah
Every now and then
You were seemingly perfect together - until Luke went on the first leg of his tour. Slowly, your relationship deteriorated. Rumours of his new mystery girlfriend spread, something Luke knew wasn’t true but he never denied. And soon, all contact stopped.
A year later, and Luke had just finished his last leg of his tour and missing your terribly. He’d had breaks between each leg and tried to contact you on every one, all having the same response: nothing. He’d tried everything: getting his friends to call you, going to your favourite places, and showing up to your house he then found out you moved out of.
It seemed every scrap of you was taken from him. He just wanted you the way it was before.
Swinging for the fences, swinging for the fences
You got me swinging for the fences, swinging for the fences, yeah
You knew Luke had finished his tour; you’d seen many videos and were so incredibly proud of him. You didn’t know whether he’d try to contact you this time, you thought he’d be over the friendship, or possible relationship, so didn’t bother to get your hopes up.
Luke, however, decided he was going to go all out to get you back. He found out you were still single and hadn’t had a relationship since, well him, after running into a friend of yours on the street. He wanted a grand gesture - something that proved he loved you endlessly, but couldn’t find anything worthy for you.
What he had learnt, from the friend he ran into, was your current address and what times you were likely to be at home. Since he couldn’t think of anything else, he went home and he baked. He baked the exact sugar cookies you’d both adored as kids and spent many nights up making them.
Luke was never a talented baker; baking with him often ended in burnt deserts and take out, yet this time he was trying to make sure everything was perfect. Of course, knowing him, they were slightly burned, but were overall one of the better batches he’s made.
It was getting late, it was dark out, and Luke didn’t want to keep you waiting - not like you knew anyway. On the drive there, he was shaky, missing turns, and driving too slow. He felt sick at the idea this could ruin everything, becoming the last time he’d ever see you.
Luke had loved you forever, he’d been so lonely without you - nothing filled the gap in him reserved for you. Letting you slip from right under him was the biggest mistake of his life; he was out of touch with himself, his heart, and soul, because he knew deep down they belonged to you. But, maybe, it wasn’t meant to be, but it sure felt like was. And so Luke was willing to risk everything.
He wobbled up the apartment complex stairs, cookie tin in hand, and absolutely no idea of what to say. The stairs didn’t take long; you weren’t on a very high floor, but still high enough Luke was slightly out of breath.
It was as if now, stood outside of your door, it finally hit Luke what he was about to do. He didn’t want to do it, but he needed to. So, after standing there for, the longest minutes of his life, he knocked.
I was young and I was ill-prepared
And I was gunning for the rest of my life
Baby, come on, love like you used to
Oh, that’s how I want you
Just running on out and sleeping on the couch
If walls could really talk, they’d still be talking now
It was getting quite late when you heard the knock. You’d assumed it was your roommate - she was meant to be at her partners, but lately she’d been coming home earlier than expected.
You opened the door, expecting to the see the girl, most likely exhausted, but instead saw the man you’d given your heart to so many years prior.
He was stood in front of you - actually there. There were so many things you wanted to say to him: you wanted to shout, call him out for breaking your heart, yet you still wanted to hug him - maybe kiss him - and hope you would never stop. But you stood there, looking at him, and you couldn’t say a word.
He spoke first, whispering your name as if it was some kind of oath. You couldn’t speak or move, you could only just stumble backwards as he made his way through the door.
You missed him, so much, but were too stubborn to admit it every time he tried to talk to you. He was never clear with you, and when things started to become, what felt, heavenly, he gave up on you, crumbling your heart.
He closed the door behind him as he fumbled to open the tin he was carrying. He rested it on his knee as he pulled it open, showing the overly-browned cookies he’d made for you.
“I- well, I tried making them for you. I hope you still like them, they’re a little burnt but that’s less chance of food poisoning, right?” You looked at him astounded. You had so many questions, starting with what was he thinking? Showing up out of the blue after a year with a box of cookies you use to bake together. How did he think it was a good idea? What did he want?
“Luke, I-“
“Could you maybe listen to me first?” He spoke gently, uttering every word as if it could break you.
You nodded, wanting an explanation most of all. If anything, that was owed.
He made his way into your kitchen, pulling you by the elbow and placed the tin on the nearby counter. He pulled a cookie out, offering it to you, to which you took it and began eating. He didn’t take one, making you realise the ploy to keep you quiet.
“Listen, I am so sorry for what happened last year, I swear it wasn’t true, and I apologise for never telling you it wasn’t. It was only ever you and it always will only ever be you for me. I can’t promise you much, but I can promise you that.
I regret how we left things- I regret how we were. Not the relationship part- oh God no, but the fact what we had was never solidified. I never told you that I wanted you for myself- because I do, so badly, and I have since we were teenagers.
And if you don’t want to be like that again, I get that, I do. I’m sorry how we left it and that I never contacted you. And sorry for ruining not only the relationship but the friendship we had.
God I miss it so much- I miss you so much. I’ve never had that with anyone else, and I never will. There’s a space left next to me for you- even if you never want it, I would never replace you.
All that I’m trying to say, really, is I’m sorry, I miss you, I love you- everything and if there is any possible chance we could go back to how it was?”
No one lets me down quite like I do
You want some love
But you need some space and time
“These cookies are really nice, thank you,”
Luke sighed, he knew you would want time to think, he was desperate but would wait until the ends of the earth for you. “Thank you, I tried to get everything as perfect for you as I could.”
You smiled up at him, taking in his new look. He hasn’t changed much since the last time you saw him, he still looked as pretty as ever, yet you could still stare at him for hours on end.
“I don’t want to go back to how we were, lu.” Luke felt his heart sank and his eyes begin to burn. “Luke, look, I miss you more than anything, and I want you back in my life more than anything, but I can’t have it again, going weeks without talking, wondering if you’re with other people. I’m so sorry about what happened- it was my fault as much as yours but I don’t know if i can put myself through it again. I want a serious relationship, lu. Just me and just you.
I want to be able to call you my boyfriend in public and not be worried you’ll hate it. I want you- I really do, but I want all of you, not just some when you feel like it.”
You didn’t lie but you weren’t fully honest either - you’d live everything over a thousand times to feel his love, whether you’d admit it or not.
Luke’s eyes were watering and yours were too. "Can I hug you, quickly, please?”
You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as his interlocked behind your waist. You found a comfort in his embrace, it was nostalgic yet normal all at once. You fit perfectly into each other, it was home.
“I’m sacred of losing you again, lu.” you told him like a secret, “I don’t want to do this if you don’t think it’d last. I don’t think I could handle it again.”
He moved his arm, grabbing your face, with such care, and he looked at you, solely full of admiration. “Sweetheart, I’m in this for the long run- the longest run. No finish line, just everlasting. Forever and ever and ever, yeah?”
You hummed, placing your head into the crook of his neck, then feeling him place a long kiss on your forehead. “I want to be your boyfriend, if you let me- well not yet, I have to take you on a bunch of pretty dates first. But I’ve always been only ever yours and I will always be yours- whether you like it or not, really.”
Oh baby, whatcha gonna do when the universe puts your hand in mine?
You were still pressed into him when your phone buzzed a few times. “Sorry, can i look really quick, it might be my roommate?” Luke hummed, passing you your phone from the counter top.
A few messages flooded in:
not coming home tonight, don’t wait up
i think we’re actually sorted out now
i’m actually buzzing
you need a relationship next
download bumble again or something
anyway, good night, love u <;33
You smiled, quickly texting her back. You didn’t believe in signs, but you believed the universe was on your side for this one.
“Would you like to watch a movie? Maybe cuddle? I’d really like if you held me some more.” You stared up at him as his smile broke out, covering his face. You’re convinced you just fell in love with him all over again. You’re sure this is the beginning of the happy ending everyone always talks about. No one knows what happens next but Luke was your future, and for the first time, you weren’t worried about it.
You dragged him by his hand to the couch, picking up the TV remote along the way. Luke sat down first, letting you lie on him and secure his arms around you, not planning to let you go anytime soon.
“So tell me how your day was, angel.”
Now that I’m busy I broke it all down
I miss you coming over, yeah
Every now and then
You got me swinging for the fences, swinging for the fences
(You) Got me swinging for the fences, swinging for the fences, yeah
reblog it and you’ll meet 5sos (real)
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the-oc-lass · 11 months
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Nimona OC - Charlotte Swiftheart/Corova
Hi again! Sorry I didn't upload yesterday, I was super busy with homework (college is hard, man). But hopefully this thing is worth it.
Happy Halloween to all those who celebrate, by the way!
I mentioned something happening a few weeks before the knighting ceremony, and so here's a drabble!
TW: Brief, general scummy behavior. Not sure if I need to put a trigger warning on that but better to be safe about it
First, Previous, Next
Her fingers skim over the apples, searching in time with her eyes some good ones. She's not the best baker, but the kids seem to like when she makes pies. She wants to try her hand at apple this time. After a minute or two of searching, she has some decent apples in her basket and is ready to move on.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Oh, good Gloreth. She knows that tone of voice. She firmly ignores it, pretending she didn't hear, and starts to move away. Suddenly, though, her arm is grabbed, and she's yanked around. "Hey, where are you going, sweetheart?" As if the flirtiness of the voice and the grasp on her arm weren't enough, she finds herself face to face with one of her least favorite people in the kingdom. Todd Sureblade. He tilts his head at her, but from his smirk, he clearly doesn't recognize her. Though, she's not sure what she expected. He is an idiot. And his face is even more punchable than when they were kids. She puts on her best polite and innocent face and tilts her head.
"Sir knight, might I ask that you let go of me?" she asks, voice sugary sweet. But Todd's smirk just widens.
"What's the rush, babe? I'm giving you the chance of a lifetime here," he says. She tilts her head and blinks blankly at him.
"And what's that?" she asks, facade still raised. He pulls her forward a bit more, other hand settling on her waist.
"Getting a date with a future knight of the realm," he says. Her eye twitches, and she tries to pull herself away. He doesn't budge.
"Let go of me, Thoddeus," she says, voice lowering as her fake smile disappears. His smirk is replaced by confusion, and he makes a face.
"What?" She squirms more violently, ready to rip herself from his grasp.
"Let me go."
"But babe-"
"I said, let go!" Her voice raises, and she rips her arm out of his grasp, bringing her hand back before backhanding him. He stumbles backward, only stopping when he's caught by some of his fellow cadets. Good Gloreth, is that Blanche and Chad? As if things couldn't get any worse, she can see that people are starting to look toward the commotion, and she can see them looking at her in particular. She couldn't have one normal day at the market, could she? She looks around, trying to find an opening so that she can get to her route back home, but her gaze freezes as two men come into view. It's been six years since she last saw them, since they abandoned her after her mother's funeral, but she still knows them. She'd know them anywhere. She sees Ambrosius freeze, eyes widening, and its the last thing she sees before she turns and runs.
"Charlotte!" he calls from somewhere behind her. She doesn't answer, instead dodging through the crowd. How could this happen? She just wanted some apples, damn it! She ducks into an alleyway, hoping that it will help her lose them if they're giving chase. She rounds a corner and Ambrosius appears in front of her. Right. She knows these streets because of her time at the Institute. They've been there for a lot longer than she has. She slows herself down, stopping before she runs into him, and she quickly whips around to try and go back. Ballister is blocking her path, and she internally curses.
"Look, if this is about Todd, he had it coming!" she says, holding up her hands. Ambrosius still looks completely shaken, even as he stands in her way, but Ballister is downright furious.
"You decide to show your face again after six years and that's what you have to say? I was afraid you were dead, Charlotte!" he cries. Even through his rage, she can tell he's toning it down. He's made himself into the perfect knight. She turns to face him, her glare matching his.
"Well forgive me if I didn't want to be anywhere near the two people who abandoned me, Ballister! I waited months for you and Ambrosius to come back, or to hear something from you, but I didn't get anything! And six years later, you have the audacity to say I left you!" she snaps. He takes a few steps and is directly in front of her, amusingly still shorter than her.
"Oh, don't you give me that. Ambrosius said he went looking for you and you were gone! You completely disappeared! If anyone abandoned anyone, you abandoned us!" he says. Charlotte snaps her head around, looking toward Ambrosius.
"Is that what you told him? That I vanished into thin air? How long did it take you to come look for me, Ambrosius? Six months? A year? How long did it take before you realized you broke your promise?" She's barely able to absorb the sadness on his face before Ballister starts yelling again.
"Don't turn this on him. Own up to what you did!"
"The only thing I did was survive! You two left me and I didn't have anyone!"
"Stop lying!"
"I'm not the one lying!"
"Both of you, stop!" In complete unison, Charlotte and Ballister whip their heads around, looking toward Ambrosius. Their faces fall at the distress on Ambrosius's face, anger dissipating into nothing. "She's right, Bal. I lied to you. I'm the one who abandoned Charlotte." He...Admitted it. After all these years, it still hurts. He abandoned her. Ballister moves past her, stepping toward his boyfriend. Or, she assumes they're still dating, at least.
"Why would you do that? Why would you lie to me?" he asks, voice softening. She hasn't heard that voice in a long time. Once he's past her, she knows she could slip away. She knows the truth now. Ambrosius abandoned her, he said it himself. But she wants to know why.
"I didn't want to lie, and I didn't want to abandoned her. I promise I can explain if you'll just listen," Ambrosius says. His pleading eyes land on her, and she purses her lips for a moment. She doesn't owe him anything. She's been on her own for six years because he abandoned her and lied to Ballister about it.
But he's still her brother, and she needs to know why he did it. Then, she'll have closure, and if she still wants to walk away, she can do so with a clear conscience. She sighs and crosses her arms, leaning against a nearby wall.
"You've got two minutes."
To be continued because it's 1:30 AM as I'm writing this and I have class in the morning
Lovely tagged people:
@ammonitetheseaserpent @perfectkittystranger @derellenbogen
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polarisbibliotheque · 2 years
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Hello. For your Spotify Wrapped Game, how about 4 with Dante. By the way, thank you for all your writting, I really enjoy it 😊
Hello, my dear!! I'm always so happy to see you here, I enjoy your presence in the bibliotheque ^^ thank you so much for all the love always and thank you for the request of the Spotify Wrapped!!
It took me some time, but here it is \o/
I gotta get used to write smaller stuff
Spotify Wrapped Special: 4, Dante - Baker Street Extended Mix, by Undercover
Pairing: Dante x Reader
Summary: To maintain your incredible physique and stamina while fighting demons, you and Dante must exercise regularly. He often forgets you're human, though.
Author's notes: I wheezed when I noticed it was Dante with the very 90's dance remix of Baker Street, since Vergil's first Devil May Dance edition was with Baker Street - the non dance-y version of it. Oh, I love when fate makes oposite-complimentary twins so obvious *sighs*
About the Song: Originally by Gerry Rafferty, Baker Street is a song with a catchy saxophone riff and lyrics that are quite existential about life and its changes. It has a mixed version by Undercover, the one in question, and being a child of the 90's I'd say I listened more to this version in the early 00's rather than the original one. Love 'em both, though.
youtube
4, Dante - Baker Street Extended Mix, by Undercover
“Dante, I love you… But my energy levels are close to zero today.”
You were practically being dragged by your red devil – Dante held your wrist and got you walking alongside him as he guided you to the center of the shop. The upbeat music took over the Devil May Cry, but you just wanted to sit down and sleep.
Probably on his chair, feet on his desk. The classic.
“Nah, babe, can’t let you slack off like that!” Turning back at you, Dante stood with both hands on his hips. “It’s trainin’ time. Gotta get those muscles strong enough to fight demons.”
“I’m already strong enough to fight demons.” You pointed out, raising one of your eyebrows. “I’d gladly train with you, but I’m really tired, Dante. I feel like I’m gonna collapse on the floor at any moment now.”
“See, I can’t let that happen to my sweet muffin, can I?” He winked back at you; a cheesy smile glistening on his lips.
“Sweet muffin…?” Oh yes, you were judging, now with your hands on your hips. “Really…?”
“Oh, yeah. Sweet muffins are as delicious as ya, babe!” His answer came with Dante starting to move his hips from side to side on the rhythm of the song. You never thought the remix of Baker Street would be so fitting for his fitness sessions, but there you were.
“Jeez, who are you now?! Jane Fonda?!” You had to laugh back as Dante did the same, trying to get you to move alongside him.
“I’m gonna be if I need to! Leotard and everythin’!” He pointed back at you, making you laugh even more. You had to give in, moving slightly. “C’mon! Gotta get some energy goin’!”
With those words, Dante took his shirt off, throwing it back on his desk, standing side by side with you. While watching, you just sighed in response, rolling your eyes.
“That’s low, you devil.”
“Hey, I do what I gotta do.” Dante winked back at you. “C’mon. Let’s start with a couple of jumpin’ jacks.”
“Yeah, why not kill me right at the start…!” You complained but accompanied him either way.
Exercising with Dante was always fun. He liked keeping it fun and upbeat, choosing high energy songs and mostly strength exercises you were both used to.
Even so, following him wasn’t an easy task. You often talked about that with Kyrie: sometimes, Nero decided to train alongside her, and she always had a hard time. Kyrie wasn’t weak nor in a bad cardio shape, but keeping up with Nero… It was a thing in itself.
You immediately understood when she talked about it with you for the first time. Training with Dante was a pain – you and Kyrie did different kinds of trainings, but even if the Spardas said they would keep it light for humans, they had a hard time knowing what light meant physically.
Lady later joined that conversation, mentioning the very few times she made the mistake of going to a local gym with Trish – the devil never seemed to get tired and lifting weights was so easy, every bodybuilder at the place ended up overworking themselves trying to prove they could lift more than Trish. Long story short, they couldn’t and ended up in the hospital while the devil woman left for tea and macarons with Lady post workout.
And Lady didn’t do half of the things Trish did but looked like she had just ran a marathon three times in a row. Trish was barely blushing.
Living with devils really wasn’t easy for humans like yourselves.
“Ei, you’re doin’ pretty good today, hot stuff. Dunno why you were complainin’.” Dante winked at you as he finished the jumping jacks, ready to start a new set of exercises. You just rolled your eyes.
“You say this all the time, red devil.” You placed your hands on your hips, already feeling your breath accelerated. Dante, in the other hand, was completely normal. “I’m always doing pretty well for a human.”
“That’s ‘cause you’re awesome, babe.” With those words, he placed a quick peck on your forehead, before starting moving around once more. “C’mon. We’re just startin’.”
“I’m gonna regret this, I’m pretty sure…” You shook your head, sighing. He was an endless ball of energy when depression didn’t hit.
When it did, though, it was almost impossible to get Dante off his chair. He was an immovable force tossed on the big Devil May Cry desk and there wasn’t much you could do – although, you could always find a way to grab him out of his deepest nightmares.
There was a reason why you would always follow him around whenever Dante was that happy and wanted to dance, exercise, go out, have fun or whatever. It warmed your soul – no matter how much he tired you physically. While watching him move in the rhythm of the saxophone blasting through the shop, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling upon watching him smile.
You would never say you’d be one to experience real love. But there was something about wanting to smile when you saw someone you cherished so much smiling as well. The fact he was happy made you happy, no matter how gray the day was. And if that wasn’t real love, you’d argue you didn’t know what love was, then.
“See? You are doin’ great!” Dante couldn’t spend time doing something with you without praising – it was something inherent in him. If you could smile only watching him smile, he could drown in happiness whenever he saw you blushing and letting yourself free around him. That was real love for Dante. “Ready for some push-ups?”
“Oh, c’mon! Now you’re definitely tryna kill me!” You had to laugh it off, although preparing yourself. Taking your shirt off, you threw it on the couch and cracked your fingers.
“Ha! You’re all talk, I know!” Starting a weird dance, you had to laugh back when he started talking again. “C’mon, don’t give up now! We have a long way to go and you’re doin’ amazing, hottie!”
“Not giving up, Jane Fonda! Let’s go!”
Of course, you would do push ups in your own human way, while Dante leaned his feet on his desk, hands on the floor, just warming up his muscles, as he would say.
You learned the hard way his official way of doing push ups was against a wall, feet high on the air – a push up in a handstand. During those days, you would just lean on his desk and read something while he exercised with metal music blasting through the shop – those were the days Dante took his exercising seriously and you just allowed him to do whatever his devilish stamina allowed and needed him to do to keep him in shape.
With your hands on your hips again, you were already sweaty, blushed and needing a little break to breath normally once more. Dante just got up and it seemed like he hadn’t even started.
“Need a break, gorgeous?”
“Yeah, a quick one…” You sighed while wiping some sweat off your forehead.
You didn’t expect, though, to be swept off your feet in your strong red devil’s arms.
“Dante…!”
“I love dancin’ with ya, babe!”
There was a golden laugh in his voice that made you giggle in response while holding tightly to his shoulder and hand. Dante intertwined his fingers with yours, spinning with you in the floor of the Devil May Cry – the song carrying you both in that lovely feeling of having each other.
Living with devils wasn’t always easy. Living with Dante, though, was always delightful.
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saintedcooper · 2 years
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