#chapter twenty-three

[saffusthings]

second chances

mob boss! lando norris x reader

part twenty-three: all the stars

word count: 2.1k (feels shorter tho?)

warnings: dialogue heavy, messy switching of povs

twenty-two | twenty-three | twenty-four

The library was nearly empty at this hour, save for the quiet hum of the air conditioning and the occasional shuffling of pages from someone studying just as late as they were.

Lando leaned back in his chair, twirling a pen between his fingers, watching as she… folded a tiny paper star? 

He narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t look like studying.”

She sighed dramatically, pressing the crease into the paper with a little too much force. “I can’t study anymore. My brain is fried. Done. Over. That’s it. It’s rejecting all new information.”

Lando exhaled through his nose, staring at the textbook open in front of them. They’d been at this for hours—practicing logic games, running through sample arguments, dissecting the intricacies of contracts and torts. She was good, but she was tired.

And when she got tired, apparently, she made little paper... thingamajigs?

Her head lolled onto her folded arms, barely upright at this point, eyes unfocused as she stared at the open prep book in front of her.

“Okay,” he said, flipping a page. “Logical reasoning. Let’s try one more.”

She groaned, voice muffled against her sleeve. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Noooo.”

“Yes.”

“Liam,” she lifted her head, fixing him with a mildly-impressive threatening stare, “I swear to God, I could not tell you the difference between a necessary and sufficient assumption right now if my life depended on it. Like, gun to my head? Not happening.”

Lando blinked, looking at her seriously. “Your life does not depend on it.”

“Exactly,” she declared, tossing down her highlighter. “So I’m making stars instead.”

She reached for the strips of paper she’d been folding absentmindedly for the last ten or so minutes, fingers deftly creasing them into small, perfect origami stars. The table was already littered with them, tiny constellations of her boredom.

Lando leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching her work with a bemused expression.

“I didn’t know you were so easily defeated.”

She shot him a glare. “I’m not defeated. I’m… on strike.”

“Against?”

“My own brain.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Great. Can’t wait to see you argue that in court one day.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled, fingers still working on another star.

Liam stared at her for a moment too long, seeming very judgmental for someone who did not have to do the actual studying part. He narrowed his eyes. “You’re serious?”

She didn’t even look up. “Liam, I cannot study anymore.”

“You said that half an hour ago, and yet, we are still here.”

“I know, and that was the last time I could study. My brain is at maximum capacity. I have reached the limit of human intellectual absorption.” She held up a tiny, folded star between her fingers, as if to prove her point.

Lando sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He should tell her to keep going. Should remind her that this test was important, that she couldn’t afford to slack off now. But she looked tired, and he wasn’t a monster.

“…At least make me one,” he said, nodding toward the paper scraps.

Her head snapped up, eyes suspicious but there was a glimmer of excitement there too if Lando looked hard enough. “You want an origami star?”

He shrugged. “Eh, might as well.”

For a second, she just stared at him, like she was trying to figure out if he was messing with her. But then she grinned—small, genuine, and earnest. Lando wondered what other things caused her eyes to light up like that, what simple pleasures had her glittering with this pure kind of joy.

He leaned forward, interrupting her space by plucking a finished star from the pile and examining it between his fingers. “So… is this, like, normal or whatever? Or is there a cure–”

She gasped, appalled. “Oh, shut up! I just needed to do something with my hands that wasn’t writing or highlighting or underlining—”

Lando flicked the tiny star at her forehead.

She gasped. “Liam!”

“You were talkin’ too much,” he said, leaning back in his chair, smirking. “Consider it a tactical disruption.”

She huffed, flicking one right back at him. It hit him squarely in the chest. Once a concerning number of them were sufficiently scattered about their work table, he reached over and picked one up, inspecting the delicate folds.

“Should I be worried that you can make, like, fifty of these in under five minutes?”

“It’s a completely normal coping mechanism.” She started another one, hands moving on autopilot. “Some people take smoke breaks. I make stars.”

He raised a brow. “Not sure that’s the best analogy.”

She grimaced apologetically, realizing her mistake. Liam had been extra grumpy after recently quitting, despite the fact that he claimed not to smoke in the first place. Even though it resulted in his car smelling nicer, it apparently was still a touchy subject. She shot him an apologetic look before turning back and placing another finished star in a neat little row beside the others.

Lando sighed, running a hand down his face. He should probably tell her to keep studying, but—screw it. She’d worked her ass off. If she needed a break, she needed a break.

He appeared lost in some deep thought, so he caught her off guard when he reached for another piece of scrap paper and attempted to fold his own.

“Wait, are you—”

“Shut up. I’m concentrating.”

She leaned in, curious, watching as he fumbled through the folds. By the time he finished, his “star” looked more like a crumpled piece of trash than anything else. He scowled, huffing as he flipped it over. “I changed my mind. This is stupid.”

There was a beat of silence. And then she burst out laughing.

“Wow,” she wheezed, wiping at her eyes. “That’s horrific.”

She exhaled determinedly and pushed her books away, flexing her fingers like they ached from all the writing. Then, casually, she slid a few extra strips of paper toward him. “Want another try? I can teach you.”

He frowned at the offering. “Nah, I don’t do crafts.”

“Oh, come on. Please?” She gave him a playful nudge with her foot under the table. “Don’t be lame. It’s easy, just fold here—”

She reached over, her hand grazing hers as she tried to guide the paper through the first few folds. When the instructions became too confusing, she decided that they would attempt visual learning instead. Reaching closer to the half-complete star in front of him she gently took his hand in hers as she led him through the final tucks and indentations, leaving behind with a half decent star. It was a little lopsided, but a star nonetheless.

His star.

He had turned to look at her as soon as her hand made contact with his, caught off guard by the feeling of her delicate hands resting briefly against his calloused ones. Her hair had  untucked itself from behind her ear, curtaining her face away from view momentarily. It was only a split second before she fixed it, absentmindedly tucking her back as she’d likely done thousands of times before.

She continued with her explaining and rambling as she focused completely on what she was doing, Lando couldn’t bring himself to follow suit. It was strange, inexplicable – after the split second that her hair had covered her face, Lando suddenly saw her in an entirely different light. Still fixated on her, he barely breathed. It was such a simple thing, barely a touch at all, but for some reason, his body had the nerve to register it like it scalded him, but in a sort of pleasant way.

His skin burned but he didn’t seem to mind, lost in trance while she was focused elsewhere, something about ensuring they did the right number of folds so they could have adequate paper for a neat final tuck.

Makes them cuter, she’d explained.

Lando Norris didn’t know a damn thing about origami or stars. Yet he’d never been paying more attention to something so inconsequential as he did right then. Suddenly, he was struck with the idiotic idea to unravel the star they’d made, just so they could do it all over again.

When she looked at him proudly, he cleared his throat, pulling his hand back before he could think too much about it. “You seem to be quite the expert. Think I’ll leave the paper artistry t’you.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, and he ignored the way that smile did something weird to his chest. The library stayed quiet after that, save for the sound of her folding tiny stars and him watching the way the light made them glow in her hands.

A few days later, they were crammed in his car outside the testing center, and she was flipping through well-worn flashcards like her life depended on it. She chewed her bottom lip raw, flipping through them with a frantic energy he hadn’t seen in all the time he’d come to know her.

"Alright, last one," she muttered, holding up a card. "If a contract is formed under duress—"

"It's voidable at the discretion of the coerced party," he answered.

She blinked. "You got that right."

"Obviously?” he questioned, pretending to be offended. ”I do pay attention, y’know."

She stared at the card for another second, then groaned, dropping it back onto the larger stack. "Okay. I think I'm gonna throw up."

"Don't do that," he said. "S’bad for morale. Also, I happen t’like this car. Just got it clean, too–"

"Liam."

When she glared at him, she looked like she hadn’t decided yet whether to cry or throw up. Lando can’t imagine giving some stack of papers that much power. 

What’s a score, anyway? Scores could be bought, extorted, bartered or bargained for–

He cut himself off before that line of thought could go any further. It was simply instinct, unfortunately. “Hey,” he reached over, plucking the papers right out of her hands. “You know this stuff.”

She didn’t even try to get them back from him, which should’ve been a sign to take this more seriously. But he noticed the way she fiddled with her fingers, pushing and pressing at her cuticles like it’d sooth her somehow. “This is the admissions test. For law school. What if I don’t?” she blurted.

“You do.” He was still laughing as he rolled his eyes.

She huffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t know that.”

Lando raised a brow. “I do, actually. I’ve been here every night watching you make flashcards and rewrite your notes and—look, if you weren’t already going to ace this, I’d just pay off the testing center.”

She blinked.

He tapped the steering wheel, as if actually considering it. “Or the admissions officer. Or the licensing board, now that I think about it—” His grin widened at her visible annoyance.

Why wasn’t he taking this seriously?

“Liam,” she groaned, shoving his shoulder.

He grinned but softened slightly, letting his voice drop. He turned to face her, and Y/N could practically feel her cheeks burning simply at the intensity of his gaze. Something about Liam always projected, confidence, strength, surety. 

Sometimes she wished she could be as sure as he was. 

But now, bearing the full weight of his gaze and being the sole object of his undivided attention, it felt almost like her heart was stuck in her throat. There was something about those green-gold irises that made Y/N feel like he could see all of her, like he could see right through her.

It made her pulse flutter with something foreign.

“Hey.” His voice was a near-whisper. The familiar smirk flickered, but his eyes held her captive. He gently nudged her chin, tilting her face up so she couldn't look away. "You're going to be perfect. Go out there and make me proud, yeah?"

Y/N was momentarily speechless. His touch, the way he held her in his gaze, left her breathless. She nodded, too caught in the intensity of the moment to form words. A strange mixture of fear and fascination swirled inside her as she exhaled, tension slipping from her shoulders.

“You’re the best,” she said before instinctively reaching out, squeezing his hand for half a second before quickly pulling away.

It was a fleeting gesture—a brief press of warmth—but it sent a shock up his spine, something lingering on his skin, even as she grabbed her bag and stepped out of the car, heading toward the entrance.

He watched her go, his fingers curling into a loose fist.

…Right. 

Time to lock that away and never open it again.

a/n: oh my clueless little babies. oh they're so cute!

[dichromaticdyke]

with chapter 23, this is the second time i’ve accidentally landed on a satisfying word count number. i deserve a little treat.

After the firing of Dick “Magic Ears” Knubbler, Abigail Remeltindtdrinc becomes Dethklok’s newest producer. Her unorthodox approach to her job and her stance as one of the few women in the industry worthy to work with Dethklok as an equal sets her apart and puts her on an unexpected path. With nearly no way to move past the constant media assault that comes with being associated with Dethklok, she seeks solace with Devon Amalgamedle, a bartender with a passion for death metal, flowers, and romance—and whose past is even more shrouded in mystery than Abigail’s. And as she deals with both her developing trauma and her blossoming romance, the apocalypse looms overhead, bright as a blazing star. An Abigail-focused, OC-heavy story, taking you through the untold narrative of the Record Cleaner, from her first moments as Dethklok’s producer and past her last moments with the band. See her life unfold and adapt beyond the legacy of the death metal gods.

RATING: Explicit (Mature for most chapters, Explicit chapters will be marked in the notes) WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault WORD COUNT: 79,797 (for now)

ohhhh my god okay it's happening. everybody stay calm. stay fucking calm!

come back here for chapter updates. every thursday and sunday, sometimes.

official fic playlist:

[andvys]

Dancing with ours hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twenty three ⭐︎ And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me

Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, daddy kink? fluff, lots and lots of fluff!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Your first date night leads to another confession.

Word count: 12k+

Author's note: the whole date was all sweet Roe's idea, give her big creative mind a kiss, and give her some love too cause she's always helping me with this amazing story ♡ thank you @hellfire--cult

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

You’re met with complete silence when you wake from your sleep – no rain, no thunder, no howling wind and no flashing lights greet you this morning. Sunlight peeks through Steve’s drawn curtains, the golden color kissing his skin, letting it appear even softer. 

You blink the tiredness away and shift in his arms, prompting him to pull you even closer, for a moment you think he is already awake but his calm breathing and his closed eyes indicate that he is still sound asleep. His arms are wrapped around you, all night they have stayed there, his hands on your back, legs tangled with yours beneath the thin sheets and your head in the crook of his neck. You needed to feel one another, you needed to be close and you are certain that even if you moved in your sleep, you didn’t let go of each other. 

You rest your palm on his chest, over his beating heart and lay your chin on the top of your hand. You raise your other hand up towards his face, caressing his cheek, grazing his skin with the tips of your fingers, you admire the pretty man before you as you push his hair out of his face. 

Memories of the previous night start rushing in, making your heart beat faster.

No one could have prepared you for his confession, for the feelings he harbored for you, for the love he felt for a while now. You hoped there was something and yet it shook you to your core when he blessed you with those three words and told you of the future he pictured you in by his side, the little infatuation he had with you even when he never wanted to admit it to himself. 

Your eyes burn with tears of happiness, you think of the girl you once were, before the upside down, before Billy’s death, when all you did was admire the man who holds you in his arms now, refusing to let go. 

You wonder how things would have gone had you known of his little crush on you, you wonder if maybe then you would have found the courage to ask him out. 

Steve’s hands move to your waist, giving it a squeeze before he wraps his arms around you again, hugging you against his chest, he peeks his eyes open, his lips curl into a smile the moment he sees your pretty face staring at him and feels the touch of your hand on his cheek. 

Today he wakes up knowing that you are his, that he no longer has to pretend the way he started to. 

“Caught you,” he whispers. 

His words make you blush, though they hold more meaning than you think. 

He caught you, not in this moment, not after waking from his sleep to catch you staring and touching his face, no, he caught you – after years and years of falling, he finally opened his eyes, he finally stepped forward after recognizing true love, he finally reached his hands – his arms out to you, he finally pulled you into his embrace. 

Steve cups your cheek, his brows pull together when he notices the tears in your eyes. 

“Hey,” he whispers, looking at you with nothing but worry in his eyes, “what’s wrong?”

You smile at his question and you shake your head, leaning towards his palm, you press your lips against it, giving him a kiss, “nothing,” you whisper, an unwanted tear falls from your eye, he catches it with his thumb, not letting it roll down your cheek. “I’m just so happy,” you whisper. 

Steve’s eyes soften, something deep within his chest stirs the longer he looks at you. The same vulnerability that flickered in your eyes the night before, is still there, still the same, if not more intense. 

You are not afraid, not anymore. 

He holds your face gently and leans in, kissing you softly, something he can now do freely, whenever he wants to, whenever he feels like it. 

He is happy, just as happy as you are. 

“So am I,” he whispers against your lips and reaches for your hand, holding it in his own as he entwines his fingers with yours, “you make me happy.”

Your hand gets lost in his much larger one, the size difference making your stomach flutter. You give it a squeeze and peck his lips once more, you lean closer to him, nuzzling your nose against his cutely. 

Steve’s eyes light up and a chuckle falls from his lips, one of surprise and adoration. Just like on the night of the fourth of July, you kiss him gently and continue to rub your nose against his, giggling as you do so. 

Who would've thought that the girl with the rough exterior is secretly so adorable, that the alcohol in her that one night brought out the real side of her and not some drunk version of her that normally doesn’t exist. 

Steve wraps his arm around you, and runs his middle finger up and down your spine. 

“So, you’re really like this huh?” He grins, feeling giddy about getting to see this you.

At that, a blush creeps to your face, one that you hide by pressing your face into the crook of his neck. 

“Oh no, baby,” he whispers, reaching for your chin, he pinches it between his thumb and his index finger, tilting your head back up again so he can see your face and look into your eyes again, “don’t hide from me. I love it. I knew I was fucked when you acted like this on the fourth of july.”  

Your cheeks heat up even more but the adoring smile on his face makes it hard for you to look away again. 

“Shit, I’ve been making love to you since that night, baby.”

Steve watches the way your eyebrows draw together, the way surprise flickers in your eyes along with the love and the happiness that drives his heart crazy. 

“You have?” You mumble, just above a whisper, like you can’t believe his words despite what happened last night. 

He can’t hold back from kissing you again, that’s all he wants to do now, kiss you, hold you, touch you, love on you. 

“Yeah, you stole my heart, darling,” he whispers in happiness. “It’s all yours, I’m yours.”

He said these words last night, he said these words now, he will say them forever. 

Your lips curl into the biggest smile he had ever seen on your face, a delightful giggle escapes you. You cup his cheeks and lean in, peppering his whole face with soft kisses, making him now giggle too. 

“I love you,” you whisper softly, “I love you so much, Steve Harrington.”

His heart could burst at any second, the feeling of your touch, your kisses, your words, you, you drive him crazy and he still isn’t sure if you realize just how deep his feelings are, if the words he gave to you the night before were even enough for you to understand the weight of the love he feels for you. 

To hear you say these words, to hear them from you, from the someone he admired from afar, in secret and in bitterness, the girl he thought could feel nothing but distaste for him, the girl that pushes away most people has and always had a soft spot for him – a soft spot for the guy that most people can’t even bring themselves to like yet love. 

But here you are, happy to be in his arms, crying tears of joy, unable to stop smiling and saying those three words he was hoping to hear from you, hoping all day and night that this dream might come true. 

And now it’s here, you are here and you are all his. 

The future he wished for is finally no longer out of reach, no longer something to unrealistically long for, it’s right in front of him. 

He remembers the future you told him of, the wishes and dreams you have, the ones so alike to his. 

“I love you,” he whispers along with your name that rolls off his tongue so beautifully, “and I hope you know that I’m never letting you go.” 

“Good, you better not–”

He presses his finger against your lips, shushing you, he looks into your eyes intensely, squeezing your side as a sudden rush of overwhelming emotions crashes over him. 

“You’re mine now, forever.” He flips you over and pushes you underneath him, getting on top of you, he leans down to kiss your neck, pressing his lips to the spot that makes you whimper. “My Blondie,” he whispers possessively and kisses under your ear. 

His deep, husky morning voice and the possessiveness behind his words make all your insides flutter. 

You cup the back of his neck and tug at his messy hair, arching your back and tilting your head to the side, allowing him more access to your neck. 

“I’m all yours,” you whimper when you feel his hand on your thigh, he is gripping it tightly and you instantly start spreading your legs for him, feeling the heat in your stomach rising quickly and intensely. “I always just wanted to be yours.” 

Steve’s heart swells in his chest, his lips twitch against you as he continues to kiss your neck, sucking on your skin and marking you up without a care in the world. You no longer have to hide. Nothing is official yet but it’s very clear what you both want. 

A shaky sigh falls from your lips when you feel his hand dangerously close to your heat, when you feel him throbbing against your thigh. 

This is the first time you woke up naked in each other’s arms since your first time, it never happened again.

Steve moves up from your neck, pressing his lips back to yours, he kisses you slowly and deeply, savoring each second of this morning. His fingers move closer and closer to your core. 

He loves the heat of your body against his, your soft bare skin so close against his. 

“New rule,” he mumbles against your mouth, opening his eyes to look into your pleading, hungry ones, “we always sleep naked from now on.”

“Really?” You giggle. 

He smirks, shrugging, “hey, easy access,” he whispers before he finally touches you, slipping his fingers through your already soaked folds, teasing your entrance and collecting your wetness before he brings it up to your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles around it, making you gasp and whimper in pleasure. 

“O-Oh fuck,” you breathe, tugging even harsher at his hair and pulling out a groan from his lips. 

“You’re so wet, darling,” he whispers, brushing your hair out of your face, he cradles your cheek and kisses your lips, admiring you and the way you get lost in the pleasure so quickly because of him. You are putty in his hands. And you are so beautiful, even more so when your lips part and your brows scrunch together, nothing but an awestruck, pleasured expression on your face as moans fall from you. “My beautiful girl,” he whispers as he slowly drags his fingers down, keeping his thumb pressed against your clit, even as he slides two of his fingers into you, making you gasp out even louder. 

Steve doesn’t know where to look, your gorgeous face as you fall apart for him or the way your body reacts to his touch, the way your chest moves and your stomach contracts, the way you clench around his fingers, the way you got them soaked and dripping already. 

“Feels so good but–” you pause with a whimper, pushing yourself up on your elbows, you look down and watch for a moment, the way he fucks you with his long fingers, splitting you open for his cock. You pull your brows together strongly, biting your lower lip as waves of pleasure crash over your body. You see him, you feel him poking into your thigh, his length hard and throbbing against you, his tip red and leaking. You need him, you need to feel him inside of you. 

“But what, hm?” Steve murmurs, loving the way you squirm beneath his body, the way you look at him with big eyes, begging for more, begging for him. He grabs your cheeks, holding them with one hand, “tell me what you want, honey.”

His chest hair tickles your skin, brushing against your hardened nipples, making you whine even more. 

“You–”

A gasp tears from your throat when he curls his fingers inside of you, just the right amount. His thumb pressing against your clit as his fingers start moving vigorously. 

“Fuck,” you whimper and shut your eyes, taken by the pleasure, completely enveloped by it. You thread your fingers through his hair, holding onto it as though your life depended on it. You throw your other hand around his wrist and open your eyes again to look at him. 

He won’t take his eyes off you, he watches you with pleasure. 

“I-I need–” your voice cuts off again, a vibrating feeling crashing through you when he moves faster, flicking his wrist back and forth, fucking you deeply and roughly, nudging your legs open further with his knee as he leans down to wrap his lips around your nipple, teasing you with his tongue before he sucks on it, not taking his eyes off you, not even for a single second. 

“Oh! Steve!” 

Steve’s stomach flutters at the needy tone in your voice, the slick sounds that make his dick strain even harder against your skin – he needs to be inside of you or else he will cum just from pleasuring you. 

“P-Please, I need your cock, I need you to be inside of me,” you beg, nearly crying out from desperation, you are so close already, tears burn in your eyes, your walls are tensing around his long fingers and your stomach is burning in need. “Please, Steve! Fuck me!” You grab his waist, squeezing him as you try to pull him back up against you. 

And who is he to deny his darling? 

You cry out again, but this time due to the loss of his fingers inside of you, the emptiness that takes over for just a moment before he grabs your hips and adjusts on top of you, breathing heavily as he uses your wetness to stroke his length. He licks his lips and looks at you through hooded eyes, giving you a slight smirk when he slips it through your folds, prompting you to pull him even closer, pouting at him so adorably that he can’t tease you any longer. His hand holds your hip firmly, he sucks in a sharp breath and watches the way your glistening pussy takes him, the way you suck him.

You watch his face, watch the way desperation clings at him, the way his lips part and moans escape him. 

It’s hard for you to keep your eyes open when he splits you open and pushes in so deeply to the point that your mouth waters. 

He says your name, he says it so beautifully and he repeats it like a prayer, his eyelashes flutter and his eyebrows furrow in concentration. 

His right hand snakes up to your chest, squeezing your boob and pinching your nipple between his thumb and index finger. 

“Stevie… fuck…” 

“Your pussy is sucking me in,” he groans and looks down, watching just how much his cock is glistening when he bottoms out before pushing back in, faster and rougher this time, making you jerk against him. 

You don’t know how you find the strength to but you wrap your legs around his waist and bring him closer. 

Steve smiles lazily when he moves fully on top of you, caging you in with his arms, pressing them on either side of your head as he leans his forehead against yours, “hi baby.”

You snake your arms around his neck, needing to feel him closer, needing to feel his lips on your, his chest against your own. 

“Hi baby,” you whisper, giving him a smile before you press your lips against his, closing your eyes and kissing him with all your love. Your lips mold together perfectly, your tongues meet. There is no roughness behind this kiss, just a deep passion that makes your heart beat stronger. 

And it’s all so perfect. 

When he starts moving, he rolls his hips slowly at first, blessing you with deep thrusts, making you both moan into the kiss but it doesn’t stay slow for long, you are both desperate and needy. Your breaths quicken, your bodies heat up, your moans turn into whines and his slow strokes move into deep and fast thrusts, he knocks the breath out of you so hard that you are unable to continue kissing him. 

Your mouth falls open, your eyes stay closed, you fear your vision would be blurry anyways if you tried to open them. He is so deep, so deep inside of you that you can feel him in your stomach. 

And he keeps kissing your lips, even if you are unable to kiss back now, he keeps on moving his lips against yours, breathing into your mouth, moaning. 

His chest hair brushes against your skin, his hair falls in front of his face and tickles your forehead, he keeps a protective hand over your head, cupping it so you don’t accidentally bump it against the headboard behind you when he fucks you a little harder after each thrust. 

He is guided by a possessiveness he hasn’t felt before, he now knows that you are his, wholeheartedly. And now it drives him crazy, in the best way possible. 

‘Mine. Mine. Mine.’ That’s all that echoes in his head as he gets lost in you, in the pleasure you feel because of him, in the way you cling to his body and whine against him, in the way he feels by making love to you. 

“Can’t believe you’re all mine,” he whispers against your lips and opens his eyes again to find tears of pleasure running down your cheeks, tears that he doesn’t hesitate to kiss away. 

You open your eyes as well and look at him through your tears, tearing a gasp out of him when you clench around his cock. 

You swallow harshly when you feel waves cursing over your body, burning in your stomach and making your legs shake. You still grab at his hair, tugging and holding onto it as you gaze up into his hazel eyes. 

“Show me… how much you love me.”

He wastes no time to reach for your hand, gently taking it off his neck, he presses your palm against your own chest and keeps his own over it, slipping his fingers through the gaps, he holds it tightly and slides it down your stomach, stopping just above your belly button. 

“Can you feel that, darling?” He breathes, getting cut off by his own moan when he presses both yours and his hand stronger against your stomach, feeling just how deep he is inside of you. 

You nod your head quickly, biting your bottom lip as the burning sensation in you grows even hotter.

“Y-Yes! I-I can feel you! You’re so… You’re so deep!” You babble, losing your composure completely, “f-feels so good, Steve, so good…” 

“Yeah? You like that huh?” He whimpers as he changes his pace, opting for rougher, slower and deeper thrusts now, “I’m gonna do this every morning, honey, gonna wake you up and remind you how good we fit together, how we were made for each other.” 

“P-Please do,” you whimper as you cling to the hand that keeps your body pressed against the mattress. 

Steve leans his forehead against yours, he nuzzles his nose with yours and looks into your eyes as he brings both you and himself to edge. 

“Gonna fill you up and claim you, over and over again,” he whispers against your lips, letting go of your hand so he can press his fingers against your aching clit. “Gonna show you just how much I love you.” 

Your body shakes beneath his but he keeps it in place, holding you down with the weight of his body and his strong arms, he leans down to kiss your face, every inch of it, he rubs your clit and fucks you roughly, hitting the angle that makes you see starts. 

A string of I love you’s fall from your lips as you buck your hips up to meet his thrusts, begging for him to release with you. 

“I’m gonna show you too, Steve,” you whisper breathlessly, pushing yourself up enough to kiss his pretty lips, “but first, I need you to cum inside of me, baby, I need you to fill me up with your cum… please.” 

Your begs and your pleas only make his dick throb harder, his balls tighten and his hips move deeper, harder, faster. 

He admires the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your eyebrows scrunch together even stronger than before, your jaw falling slack, your boobs bounce with each thrust of his hips and you squirm beneath him, whining in need. 

You feel every inch of him, the veins around his length, his tip brushing that one spot that turns your vision blurry from the pleasuring shock waves in you, his fingers that work on your clit. He kisses you, pecks your lips over and over again. 

“I can feel the way you’re clenching around me,” he whispers against you, unable to hold back the sounds that fall from his mouth as he comes closer and closer, “your tight little pussy is begging to be filled up with my cum, huh? You want me to breed you, don’t you, princess?” 

You don’t know whether it’s his words or the strong thrust he delivers that makes you come undone – your back arches, your eyes shut tightly as your fingers cling to his hair, pulling harshly, your walls flutter and clench around him stronger than ever before as you scream his name in pleasure. 

“O-Oh fuck,” Steve groans as his eyes roll back and his stomach contrasts when he feels you cumming around him. He can’t even hold back anymore, he grabs your hips and pushes up higher on his knees, tilting your pelvis up the slightest bit before he starts pounding into you, chasing his high but aiming for your second, as well. 

“Oh my god, Stevie!” You cry out, your arms falling by your sides as weakness takes over your body. You feel sensitive and overstimulated already, and yet, you can’t get enough of him, of the feeling of him inside of you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy with rough and deep strokes, your name falling from his lips so beautifully as he moans because of you.

You watch him, the way his chest heaves up and down, the way his forehead is coated with sweat already, hair hanging in front of his eyes as he pounds into you like he had gone feral, strong, veiny hands gripping your hips so harshly, sure to leave marks on your skin, his dark eyes flicker back and forth between your own and the part that connects you and him. 

“J-Just like that, you’re doing so good for me,” you manage to croak out with a shaky voice, ignoring the tears that spill down onto his pillows and just like before, you manage to push yourself up on your elbows, biting your lower lip as you feel the need to watch, watch the way he fucks into your sopping pussy, the sight of it only adding to the overwhelming pleasure in you. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, looking at you with the eyes of a man in love and in desperation. He traces his fingers down to your knee, unwrapping it from his waist, he nearly makes you squeal when he hooks it over his shoulder instead, pounding into you from a different angle now as his lips latch onto your ankle, kissing you there but never taking his eyes off yours. “I fucking adore you.” How his voice still sounds so steady and confident surprises him, he could bust right this second but the need to drag this out is so strong, even when his body is screaming for release. “I’m so fucking in love with you, you have no idea what I’d do for you, honey.” 

Your bottom lip trembles and your whimpers grow stronger when he presses his thumb back to your clit. He keeps this pace for a while, holding your leg firmly. 

Just the sight of you alone could make him come undone. 

He needs more, he needs to feel you again, so he gently places your leg back down, “keep your eyes open for me, come on, I know you can do it,” he whispers, unable to stay away from your lips any longer, he presses his chest back to yours and kisses you, “look at me when I fill you up with my cum.”

You throw your arms around him again, looking up desperately as you grow weaker and weaker. 

“That’s what you wanted, didn’t you, darling?” He murmurs, against your lips, whimpering himself when you squeeze around his cock, gripping him tightly. 

“Y-Yes! Please do it, cum for me, Steve, fill me up, give me your cum, daddy!” You whimper, needily, your body letting go once more. 

Steve’s eyes grow wide, pleasure shocking his body, begging to let go but he manages to keep his composure, wanting, needing more. Your words wake something in him, a side that has yet to be explored – he holds your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin, he bottoms out almost all the way before he snaps back inside of you, roughly and harshly, making you squeak and hold onto him like you never have before. 

"Daddy, huh?" Steve breathes as his thrusts become merciless, “that’s right, baby, I’m your daddy.”

You are nothing but a babbling mess at this point, whimpering his name, whimpering those three words, calling him by the name that just turned him into a man who has gone absolutely feral. 

And you love it, you love every second of it. 

You are barely able to keep your eyes open but you force yourself to, wanting to see this, to see him and how he takes control in a whole new way, fucking you disrespectfully yet looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes. His arms look so strong, veins appearing thick on his skin, the muscles in his stomach are tense, he is towering over you, he is so big, so much bigger than you.

You feel him so deeply that it makes you drool, your stomach burns in a satisfying way. 

And Steve, he can’t hold back the whimpers, the needy noises that he would have felt embarrassed about if he wasn’t so lost in love and pleasure. 

You can tell that he can’t hold back anymore, that he needs to cum, so you grab his face and kiss him roughly just as he loses control and spills inside of you. His merciless thrusts slowing down when his hips stutter, your walls continue to flutter around him, intensifying the pleasure in him even more. 

He kisses you deeply, swallowing each moan of yours as your tongues clash together, needily, desperately and you kiss each other until you no longer can, until your breaths are knocked out of you and your hearts are pounding harshly, lungs begging for air. 

You pull away just enough to breathe again but you keep kissing one another, pressing soft pecks to each other's lips as lazy smiles appear on your faces. You’re running your fingers through his hair, grazing his scalp with your nails, giggling when he nuzzles his nose against yours this time. 

“Good morning, Steve.”

He huffs in amusement, smiling brightly at you, his eyes crinkle, his dimples show, “good morning indeed, darling.” 

You giggle again, wrapping your arms around him tightly as you pull him down against you to hug him, not caring about the mess you both made, you need a shower anyways. 

He puts his head on your shoulder, happily falling into your embrace, enjoying the feeling of your fingers running up and down his back now. He is still inside of you, twitching and throbbing but he doesn’t want to pull out, loving your warmth. 

Steve tilts his head and looks up at you, his heart skipping a beat when he finds you staring with a loving smile on your lips. 

You reach your hand up to his face, brushing away his hair so you can see his hazel eyes better. 

“You called me daddy,” he says, causing your hand to freeze and your cheeks to heat up. 

You hide your face behind your hands but he quickly wraps his hands around your wrists and keeps you from hiding, “uh uh,” he shakes his head at you, smirking at your blushing face, “don’t hide from me, baby.”

Shame flickers in your eyes, your cheeks are glowing and you can feel the embarrassment flushing through you. 

“I don’t know what’s gotten–”

“I fucking love it, honey,” he cuts you off with a kiss to your lips, “almost made me bust right away when you said it.”

His eyes light up when you giggle loudly. 

“Always kinda had the fantasy of you calling me that, for a moment I thought this was all just a dream.”

You shake your head at him, licking your lips as you stare at your man. You place your hands on his neck and tug him even closer, giving him a short but deep kiss, “no, it’s all real… daddy.” 

Steve groans when he feels his cock throbbing in you, overstimulating him now, especially when you squeeze around him again. 

“Fuck… I gotta pull out or else I’ll cum again.” 

You giggle once more, driving his heart crazy with your pretty noises. 

“We made a mess already, I won’t mind another.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, grinning at you. 

“Oh yeah? You want me to keep you in bed all day, huh?” He murmurs and slowly brings his hand up to your cheek, cradling with his large hand. 

“Mhmm what if I do?” 

“Then I gotta give my girl what she wants huh?” 

Your whole heart flutters, your stomach does too, a warmth you only feel with him curses through your veins as giddiness and excitement settle into you. 

My girl. 

You have always been his girl. 

You nod your head, your eyes flickering between his own and his lips. 

“Yes,” you whisper before you smash your lips back against his. 

And you do stay in bed, the whole morning you stay there, touching and kissing one another, repeating your actions from the night before, growing hungry and desperate for each other, not caring about anything else in the world but this moment. 

Minutes and hours go by without you noticing just how much time has passed already, the room smells like sex and the crumpled, messy sheets are evidence of everything that you have done. 

Your body is littered with marks, just like his as your lips chase to leave hickeys on every spot you haven’t marked up just yet, putting great effort into it as though it will linger like a tattoo. No fear of anyone seeing them now, no nervousness of leaving them in appropriate places no more.

He has to carry you into the bathroom by the end of it, too shaky are your legs to walk yourself, he finds pleasure in lifting you up into his arms though just as he does in being the one to wash you, all while stealing kisses from you the whole time. He washes your hair and massages your scalp, wearing a smile on his face the whole time, he is careful not to get anything into your eyes. He washes your body, using your favorite scent, he takes his sweet time, loving to take care of you, loving the thought of this being only the beginning of it all, that this is not a one time special thing, it’s something that will follow you both into tomorrow, into forever. 

You take your turn too, washing his hair with excitement bubbling in you, you’re both a giggling mess the whole time, when he has to bend down to make it easier for you, low enough for his face to be right in your boobs, he wiggles his eyebrows at you as he grabs them, squeezing tightly. 

“You’re such a dork!” You giggle and slap his shoulder playfully, the foam of his shampoo on your hands landing on the glass doors behind him. 

“Yeah but I’m your dork,” he grins and leans in to kiss your chest.

“Yes, you are,” you smile, proudly, unable to contain the happiness in you and it turns his smile bigger as well. 

You are both in bliss. 

When you are done, you don’t get out right away, he pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly against him, he holds a protective hand over your head, pressing it against his pecs while you wrap your arms around his waist. 

You both stand there under the stream of the water, enjoying the warmth of it and each other. His fingers run up and down your spine and he keeps murmuring sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you of his love for you. 

He doesn’t stop there, he makes you sit on the edge of the bathtub while he puts lotion on your skin, not holding back from kissing every inch of your body, making you giggle yet again. He helps you into one of his shirts before he carefully combs through your hair, refusing to let you dry your own hair after you get up and reach for the hair-dryer. 

“My own personal hair stylist,” you grin at him through the mirror, admiring the way the towel hangs low on his hips, the way water still drops from his hair and down his chest. 

“Mhmm, I’ll take good care of your hair,” he murmurs, winking at you. He places his hand on your waist and leans closer, reaching for the small glass bottle that is inside the box with all his hair products. 

“What’s that?” You ask, watching as he squirts some of it on his fingers before he places it back into the box, he rubs his fingers together before he runs it through your hair. 

“It’s hair oil, honey,” he says nonchalantly, “it’s gonna make your hair all soft and shiny.” 

“Huh.” You nod as you look at everything that he owns for his hair, it’s surely way more than you own, no wonder his mane is always so perfect. 

“You don’t use any?” He furrows his brows. 

You shake your head, sighing at the feeling of his fingers in your hair. 

“See, your hair needs me too.” 

You giggle and lean your head back against his shoulder, tilting your head to the side to look at him. 

Steve grins, letting go of your hair, he slides his hand under your jaw and cups your cheek, he leans down and kisses you softly, you are still smiling and so is he. 

All of this still feels so surreal, just a day ago, he believed this would be impossible, that this is something he could never have, not after Robin told him that it was just sex for you, that you had no feelings, no wishes to deepen the bond between you — he has to talk to her but not today, today belongs to you and him. 

He glances at you through the mirror, catching you staring at him with a big smile on your lips. Before he can say or do anything, you turn around and cup his cheeks, rising to your tippy toes, you steal a kiss from him. 

“I adore you, Steve.”

He grins at you, pressing his forehead to yours, his hands find home on your waist. 

“Yeah? I adore you, Blondie.”

He watches the way you gaze into his eyes, the happiness and the love so evident in yours, the excitement you can’t seem to contain coming through – feelings you have kept locked up for so long finally being let out, a side of you that you have buried underneath all the layers you have shown for so long, finally shining through. You feel safe with him, safe enough to show him that side that you were afraid of letting others see. 

But here you are now, kissing him, cuddling him, being clingy with him – something he thought he could only dream of, not long ago. 

You hug him from behind and kiss his shoulder while he prepares your coffee, you make ‘breakfast’ for you both late in the afternoon and you spend a long time sitting at the round table in his kitchen, talking and eating your first meal of the day, holding hands and laughing with each other. 

Robin calls and Steve watches the way you tense up when he speaks her name into the receiver. He doesn’t know what happened between you both, what Robin had said to you, you didn’t talk about it yet, you didn’t want to and he respected that, this day is about you two and that’s what he tells his best friend, as well. 

“You’ll apologize to her later. For now, she is with me… just the two of us.” 

He is not angry at her, he knows she only wants the best for him but he doesn’t want to see her right now, he only wants to be with you. 

And he doesn’t want to talk about the bad things, about the things he believed before you showed up and stood beneath the pouring rain, ready to fight for him. 

You were the first. 

The first person to fight for him. 

To love him without expecting something in return. 

And now you are here and you are his – officially soon. 

The date he planned so spontaneously was one that he had dreamed of since the night at the fair, where he wished to kiss you in front of everyone, where he thought of taking you on the ferris wheel and admire the fireworks with you on the very top, where he wanted to win you a bear and see those beautiful eyes of yours light up because of him. 

It didn’t take him long to decide where he would take you tonight. 

Anything would be perfect, a date at the movies, at the restaurant, a picnic on the lookout or even just movie night in his bedroom, the latter seems the most relaxing – but he really wants to take you out, hold your hand in public and kiss you breathless, not a single care in the world about who could see. 

The excitement in him keeps growing, even when he begrudgingly lets you go so you can get ready at your house – he doesn’t let you go easily, showering you in kisses and cuddling you at his front door before you even manage to take a step outside and even when he does let you go, he doesn’t waste a single second before he runs upstairs and starts getting ready as well, doing his hair as quickly as he can, picking out an outfit that is sure to impress you. It takes him approximately thirty minutes before he is standing on your porch with flowers in his hand and a wide smile on his face. 

While he is fully ready, you are still clad in his shirt, makeup only halfway done and hair up in rollers. You giggle when you see him, “I said an hour!” You throw your hands up, though there is nothing but excitement in your voice as well and you reach for his wrist, pulling him into your home. 

Your eyes light up when you look at the flowers he got for you, the thought of him hurrying around his house, getting ready and making a quick stop to get you flowers makes your heart flutter wildly in your chest. 

“I’m sorry, honey, I couldn’t wait,” he grins and leans down to press his lips to yours, tasting the strawberry chapstick on your mouth. “Besides, I can watch my girl getting ready.” 

“You’re so cute,” you smile and reach for the flowers he picked, pink tulips. You raise them up to your nose, looking into his warm eyes as you breathe in the scent. “I love them, thank you, Stevie.”

He wraps his arm around your waist and brings you closer, kissing your forehead softly, “you’re welcome, Blondie.” 

You place your hand on his shoulder and tilt your head up, pecking his cheek before you move away from him and make your way into the kitchen to put the flowers into a vase. 

Steve follows, his smile never falling, he hears the music coming from your room, he can see the happiness on your face and all because of him. 

You fill the vase with water and carefully place the flowers inside, removing the string that ties them together and for a moment, you stare at them. He got you flowers, Steve got you flowers after he asked you out on a date, after he confessed his feelings, his love for you. 

Who would’ve thought that jumping into the water that night, would bring you here. 

You take the flowers up into your room and place them on your bedside table, a smile appears on your face again when you feel him coming up from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest. His breath hits your neck, his lips follow and he nuzzles his nose against your neck, “you look so fucking hot.”

You tilt your head to the side, careful not to hit him with the rollers in your hair, “with my makeup half done and those granny rollers?”

“You always look hot, baby,” he murmurs, kissing your neck again, he trails his lips down lower and lower over the marks he left this morning, “especially when you’re wearing my clothes.” 

“Steve,” you sigh, your eyelashes flutter, moans threatening to spill from your lips, “I-I gotta get ready or else we’ll never make it to the date.”

His chuckle vibrates against you, he squeezes your waist before he lets go of you and puts some distance between you when he sits down on your bed, smiling up at you. 

“Alright, baby.” 

He leans back, looking you up and down with awe in his eyes, watches the way you blush for him, the way you step forward and tap his nose before you walk away and sit down in front of your vanity, picking up one of the brushes and your eyeshadow palette, continuing your makeup. 

His heart skipped at your cute action. He is still filled with surprise to see you act so carefree around him, to get to know more and more of this side of you. 

For a while, he sits on your bed and watches you in contentment, following every step of your routine as you apply glitter to the inner corner of your eyes, the way you draw the eyeliner so effortlessly, the way you put lipstick on your lips as though it won’t smudge in a few minutes again. 

You look so beautiful, it drives his heart crazy. 

He can’t wait to take you into one of the photo booths and take his first pictures with you – making up for the day when he could not find the courage to ask for pictures with you when you were taking them so happily with Nancy. 

Those pictures are on the clipboard over your desk now, Jonathan had printed them for you and you wasted no time putting them up, he was here when you did it. He should have known then that there was a side to you that no one had seen yet. 

He walks over to your desk and takes a look at all your favorite memories, at the polaroids of your best friends, ones of Billy, some of Eddie, the teens during movie night in your living room, Jonathan and Argyle smoking pot on the swing in your backyard, there is even a picture of him with Robin, she was wearing your heart shaped sunglasses and he gave her bunny ears. He wishes that there would be some of you with him. 

“Whatcha looking at?” 

He turns to you, you have taken out the rollers in your hair while he was distracted by all the memories you have kept on your wall. For a moment he stares at you, his chest filling with warmth, his heart skipping several beats. Your makeup is all done, your hair is framing your face gorgeously, you reach for one of your many perfume bottles and spray some on your neck and on your wrists before you dab some of it behind your ears. 

His stomach bubbles with excitement knowing that watching you getting ready will become a part of his everyday life now.

Steve smiles, pointing to the picture of you and Nancy, “I wanted a picture with you that day.” 

You turn in your chair and raise your eyebrows at him, tilting your head in question, “hmm?”

“You took pictures with everyone… except for me... I was building up the courage to ask for a group picture to at least be in the same one as you.” 

Despite everything that has been said since the previous night, you still feel the shock in you, the surprise that takes hold of you as you digest his words. 

He wanted to take pictures with you, on a day when things between you were still so fresh. 

He was building up the courage to ask for a picture. 

Your chair scratches against the hardwood floor when you push it back and stand up, making your way over to him with a soft look in your eyes and a slight pout on your lips. 

He looks so cute standing there, admiring the photos on your wall and wishing there’d be ones of him. You can’t help but snake your arms around his waist and hug him tightly. 

“I always wanted some with you too,” you murmur and look up at him. 

He wraps his arms around you, cupping the side of your head, he is careful not to ruin your curls. 

“yeah? We’ll take some today.” 

You raise your brow at him, “oh?”

You don’t know where he is taking you, he wants it to be a surprise. 

“Yeah so get your sweet ass in some clothes so I can take you on the date,” he grins and moves his palm down to squeeze your butt. 

The sound of your giggle makes his heart swell in his chest, the touch of your hand on his, making it beat faster. You pull him towards your closet, opening the door, and you give him a smile, “pick a dress for me.” 

You don’t have to ask him twice. 

He squeezes your hand and steps forward, taking in the colors and the amount of clothes that are way too much for this closet. 

“Jesus, Blondie,” he whistles and reaches his hand out, searching for the perfect dress, “your closet is gonna bust soon, where do you even get that many clothes?” 

You cross your arms over your chest as you shrug, “Indianapolis has some nice stores, besides I have a lot of free time.” 

“I can tell.”

“Hey! We all got something, you got your hair products, I like buying clothes, don’t judge me!” 

Steve chuckles at you, “I’m not judging, don’t worry, honey. You can buy as many clothes as you want, I’m just saying you need a bigger closet.” 

“Are you gonna build me one?” You joke. 

“Yeah, someday,” he grins. 

He stops at a pink dress, one he hasn’t seen you wearing before, it’s a sundress, one he’d normally want to see you in if the dress on the very last hanger didn’t catch his eye. The blue color suddenly stands out to any other, capturing his attention completely. 

Something settles in the pit of his stomach, feelings of guilt and regret from the day when he watched you walk away from him after you had come in so nervously, after you had stuttered whilst trying to talk to him. He was so awful to you, he said such rude things to you while you stood before him in this beautiful dress – how did he not fall to his knees back then? How was his stubbornness stronger than any other emotion in him? How could he be so awful to you when all you wanted was to talk to him? 

Talk… Is that all you wanted though? If your feelings had been there for so long, was talking to him really the only goal for you that day? Or was there more? Was there a reason why you walked away with sadness in your eyes? 

His heart starts dropping the longer he thinks about it, the longer he thinks about the day he missed the greatest opportunity that he had. 

“W-Why don’t you wear this one?” He asks and takes it out slowly. 

The smile that stayed on your face this whole time falls a little and that is all the confirmation that he needs. 

There is a sadness in your eyes that flashes for a split second, your throat bobs when you swallow. You uncross your arms and reach forward, pinching the dress between your fingers. You haven’t taken it out once since then. 

Billy picked it out for you. 

You wore it with such excitement, one that was ruined. 

Steve watches the emotions that flicker in your eyes, the memories that go through your mind the longer you look at it. 

He feels the need to make it right, make it better. 

If he wasn’t such a fool, if he didn’t mess up that day, you’d be his for a while now. 

“Let me finally see what I have missed this past year for being a fucking idiot,” he says with a smile, yet remorse in his features. 

You huff and chuckle at him. You take it from his hands and look up at him, at the fond smile on his lips, the apologetic, soft eyes he looks at you with. 

How can you not grant him this wish? 

“Alright.” You smile and step away from him, “I’ll be right back.”

You get changed in the bathroom, taking a moment to yourself, you put the dress on, not looking at yourself just yet, you zip it and fix the bow on the cleavage, taking slow but steady breaths. 

A year back, you stood here like you do now but instead of happiness and excitement, you felt nervousness and anxiety burning in you, everything that could go wrong plagued your mind, your hands were shaking and your chest hurt but now… things are different, you feel nothing but giddy, your stomach doing somersaults, your heart keeps fluttering, you are happy. 

You take a deep breath and look at yourself in the mirror, at the smile you can’t even contain knowing that this is it. 

You no longer have to fear anything, you no longer have to hide, you no longer have to wish for something thinking that it will never be. 

You got what you wanted, nothing stopped you and now he is yours. 

The look in his eyes is one of love and awe when you step outside, his cheeks heat up, a pinkish glow now adorning his pretty face. He steps forward in excitement and he reaches for your hand, “my beautiful girl,” he murmurs and presses his hand to your hip, “you are so gorgeous.” 

“Steve…” You giggle, rolling your eyes playfully when he makes you twirl for him before he pulls you against him. 

“I thought the same thing about you back then, Blondie, I was just an idiot.” 

You place your hands on his chest and glare at him, “stop calling yourself an idiot, I was kind of a bitch to you too.” 

He snorts and shakes his head, “don’t, I deserved that.”

“No, you didn’t and you’re not an idiot anymore so… let’s go!” 

Amused by your impatience, he leans down with a chuckle and pecks your lips before he grabs your hand, “yeah, let’s go, darling.” 

On the way to his car, Steve notices something, feelings he had never felt before a date, comfort, warmth, peace. And he had gone on so many dates before but something always felt off, he could never pinpoint what it was but it just never felt the way it was supposed to feel, not even with Nancy who until you, he thought was the one for him – nothing ever felt this real, this delightful, this happy with her. 

A simple car ride with you can bring out feelings in him that he had never experienced in his life before, not with anyone. 

Colors he never thought he would see are right before him now that you are his, the touch of your hand makes him feel protected and safe. You can drive his heart insane but you can also calm it down like nobody else, you can light a fire inside of him yet mend it at the same time with a simple kiss. 

He couldn’t even begin to describe the kind of love he feels for you, not even if he tried. 

But he can safely say that you are the one for him and this time he knows that it’s real – he would put a ring on your finger right this moment. 

Everything you do, every smile, every reaction of yours makes him smile in a way his cheeks hurt, he blushes, something he had never done until you, he feels a giddiness in him he hasn’t felt since he was a kid. 

When you arrive at your destination, he watches you closely, the way your eyes widen when you see the flashing lights, when you see the rides, the ferris wheel and smell the cotton candy. 

“An amusement park!?” You yell, eyes lighting up like the ones of a child on christmas day. 

You grab his hand and squeeze it tightly, smiling excitedly at him. 

“Do you like it?” Steve asks despite already knowing the answer to his own question. 

You respond with a kiss and he does not hesitate to wrap his arm around your waist and kiss you back, smiling against your lips, feeling his heart racing from his own excitement. He keeps you close, he does so all night, keeping your hands and fingers entwined, stealing kisses every few seconds or so, unable to stop himself. 

You spend the night getting sick on the rides, eating ice cream and corn dogs, giggling at each other like two lovesick teens. 

When he finally spots the photo booth, he excitedly pulls you towards it, brushing past the crowds of people and the laughing children with you, he slides open the small curtain and gets in first before he grabs your waist and pulls you in with him, dragging you down on his lap. 

“Someone’s eager to get those pictures,” you say with a giggle as you shut the curtain again before you push back against his chest and wrap your arm around him. His breath hits your skin, his large hand grabs at your hip. 

“I am eager, honey,” Steve murmurs against your shoulder, pressing his lips against it, “I wanna take pictures with my girl.” 

My girl seems to be his favorite name for you now, every stop you make at any ride or food truck, he calls you that when he orders for you both. 

‘A ticket for me and my girl.’

‘Two ice cream cones for me and my girl.’

‘One diet Pepsi for my girl, please.’ 

It made you giggle every time while he smiled proudly every time he gestured to you during each order. 

You flinch in surprise when the first flash goes off and you feel his lips on your cheek and his arms tighten around your waist. You didn’t even notice when he slid the dollar in and pressed start. 

“I wasn’t ready!” You giggle, staring at the countdown on the screen, you quickly pull back a little and turn to face Steve, he is already staring at you, smiling. You cup the side of his face and look into his eyes. 

“Where’s your pretty head at, hm?” He whispers and gazes into your eyes. 

The flash goes off again, capturing a perfect moment of the two of you. 

“Always with you.” 

“Me?” He murmurs and cups your face, pulling you down, he buries his face in your neck and kisses over your marks, “I’m right here, darling.” 

You tilt your head to the side and wrap your hand around his wrist, closing your eyes when the feeling of his lips puts you into a state of bliss. 

The flashing light following each perfect moment of yours. 

Steve tucks your hair behind your ear when you pull him back from your neck, pressing your palm back to his cheek, you lean your forehead against his and nuzzle your nose against his, making him grin. 

“I feel like my heart bursts every time you do this,” he mumbles against your lips. 

“What?” You whisper and nuzzle your face against his again with a smile, “this?” 

He squeezes your hip and chuckles, nodding against you, “yeah, it’s so fucking cute.” He presses his lips against yours and you both close your eyes as you start kissing, getting lost in it so quickly, forgetting the flashing lights and the small space you’re in, forgetting the people outside and drowning out the noises. 

Your lips taste like ice cream, his taste like the pepsi he stole from you, his cologne makes your insides tingle, the touch of his hands making you whine into the kiss. You press yourself tighter against him, letting your hands get lost in his hair as his arms envelop you fully, large hands settle on your back before one trails up to the nape of your neck. He buries his fingers in your hair, messing up the curls a little but you don’t mind. 

The butterflies go wild in your stomach, his warmth pulling you closer and closer, his tongue now meeting yours as the kiss deepens further. 

The flashing lights keep going off but neither of you care or even notice at this point. 

You are so lost in each other, everything fades to nothing around you both. 

Even as you grow breathless, neither of you make the move to pull away. 

The emotions in you nearly overwhelm you, everything you have ever wanted now belongs to you. 

Everything you have wished for when you went to Scoops Ahoy that day has finally happened. 

When the two of you walk out of the photobooth, breathless from the intense makeout session that ensued, and you both look at the pictures, you can’t help but feel like crying. His lips on your cheek, looking at each other, him kissing your neck, and several pictures of you two just kissing, oblivious to the pictures being taken. You tuck those pictures safely in your purse, knowing their next home is your wall.

You feel the need to confess, to tell him about what you wanted, what you came for that day at scoops and how strong your feelings really are because you don’t think that he truly understands just how loved he had always been. 

So when he takes you to the ferris wheel you decide the perfect time is now. 

Your cheeks feel hot and without even looking, you know that your hair is a mess on your head from his hands, just like his is too, it’s disheveled and his cheeks are red, you don’t want to fix his hair though, you love the way he looks right now. 

“Hey,” you whisper as you hold onto his hand tightly, your stomach would have felt queasy being on this ride if you weren’t here with him. He makes you feel safe, no matter what, no matter where you are. 

His eyes never strayed away from you, not even to look down at all the attractions beneath you. His right arm is wrapped around your waist, you’re tucked into his embrace, not even the wobbly carriage that keeps taking you up higher and higher into the air could make you feel unsafe. 

“Hi,” he whispers softly. 

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.” 

“You know… that day at Scoops,” you pause, feeling guilty for even bringing it up when you see the look in his eyes, the one full of guilt. Of course he remembers, you knew from the moment he found the dress in your closet and you know that it’s haunting him, you can see it. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, his smile slowly fading but not completely. 

You hold his hand tighter, “I don’t want you to feel bad, I just want you to know something.” You don’t even know if it is necessary to still tell him about your plan from that day, he knows of your feelings now, of how long you have kept them in but a part of you needs you to let this secret go, as well. 

“What is it?” He whispers and reaches his hand out to your face when the wind blows through your hair, getting stuck on your eyelash. He fixes it and tucks it behind your ear, he keeps his palm resting on your cheek. 

“I wanted to ask you out,” you confess with burning cheeks. 

His hazel eyes flash with surprise, his stomach flutters as warmth tingles up to his neck. 

You wanted to ask him out on a date? 

You wanted to ask him out even though he was a dick to you? 

“R-Really?” 

You nod. 

What would’ve happened if you did ask him out? He wonders. 

How would he have reacted? 

One thing he knows for sure is that he would be standing with red cheeks before you, he would have stuttered and stared at you stunned. 

“Billy was the one who encouraged me.”

If Steve’s eyes could widen any further, they surely would. 

“Billy?” He nearly yells. “Billy Hargrove!?”

You giggle at the confused and shocked look on his face. 

“Yeah, Billy Hargrove encouraged me to make a move on you from the day I first told him about my feelings for you. He helped me pick out that dress, he even drove me to the mall and gave me a pep talk,” you confess, smiling at the memory of your best friend. 

He huffs, shoulders slumping as he blinks a few times. And then his shocked frown transforms into a confused one, “w-wait, how did he not kill me after the way I treated you?” He asks in shame, not liking the memory of that day. 

“I never told him,” you shrug and sigh, “I didn’t want him to fight you, I knew he’d kick your ass.” 

Yeah, he would and he would have deserved it, he thinks. 

But you thought so otherwise, you protected him, even on his worst days, when he did nothing but hurt you, you protected him. 

In middle school, in high school and later. 

No matter how young you were or how mature you had gotten, you were never angry with him, never bitter, no matter how he treated you, all you held for him was love, even when he did not deserve it. 

“I told him I chickened out, that I never asked you out or even stepped foot inside Scoops.” 

Steve whispers your name, a pained expression taking over his pretty features. 

You shake your head at him, grasping his hand even tighter than before, “don’t feel bad, I don’t want you to feel guilty, those days are over, I just wanted to tell you that I have always been there and about Billy.”

Billy who hated him, Billy who used every opportunity to start a fight with him – he could have talked you out of it, he could have tried to turn you against him but he didn’t, he pushed you towards him, towards a guy he could never stand. 

Steve looks at you, at the girl who went through hell and back for him, quite literally, you loved him from afar, you have jumped into a different world just to save him, to protect him, you followed him into darkness, you fought by his side, you would have died for him, he knows it, he knows you would and after everything, after every cruel world, after every push-back, you still love him unconditionally. 

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself, cupping both your cheeks and looking into your eyes intensely, “I wish I could go back and change things but I can’t but… baby, I was a fool, I didn’t understand my feelings, there was always something, I already told you that last night but I need you to know that my heart always went crazy over you, I didn’t understand these feelings back then, they confused me just like they did when you got dragged into this mess with us… I didn’t want you to be a part of it not because I didn’t want you around but because I was fucking worried about you, when we parted ways and you went to the Creel house with the kids, I felt like I lost a piece of myself… and when I saw you at the hospital–” he pauses, his voice getting shaky as tears well up in his eyes. “I think that was the first time I ever prayed, Blondie. I-I needed you to be okay and I didn’t know what I’d do if I– if I lost you.” 

Your bottom lip wobbles, your own eyes well up with tears as you look into his sad ones. You grab his wrists, holding on tightly. 

Steve sat by your side every day, for hours, sometimes until the nurses kicked him out. He sat there and held your hand, he waited and waited, and prayed for you to wake up. He felt anger for Jason Carver, he felt grief over you. 

To see him so distraught over what happened to you, to think that he felt this way even back then makes your heart hurt. 

“You didn’t lose me, Steve, you never will,” you whisper and press your forehead against his, “you’re stuck with me now.” 

His lips curl into a small smile, he caresses your cheek, not letting the tear that slipped from your eye, roll down your cheek. 

“Sounds like heaven to me,” he whispers against your lips, leaning into your touch, “my heart was always yours, I was too stupid to realize.” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, giggling through your tears, like your heart isn’t bursting at his words, “you were a real Lego Head.” 

Steve’s eyes crinkle, his eyes glow with amusement and love, you both giggle and lean in closer and closer. 

“I’ll never be one again,” he whispers against your lips. 

“Good,” you murmur before you close your eyes and kiss him, smiling against his mouth when a sweet sigh escapes him. You feel the wind on your skin, you know how high up you are now but you don’t care and neither does he. 

He cradles your face in his large hands and kisses you in a way you could only dream of months back. 

And he feels the same, he has dreamed of a love like this, of one that would strip him off the dark colors that have enveloped him, that have taken hold of him when people have stomped on his heart. You broke through the wall around him, you took his hand and pulled him out of a pit that he never wanted to admit he was in, you saved him and you gave him something that he will hold so dearly, that he will protect with his life, you gave him your heart, your love. 

He feels such joy and love in his heart, he can’t even contain it. 

You trail your left hand down to his chest, pressing it against his beating heart – the heart that belongs to you. He grabs it and toys with your empty ring finger. 

“Asking you to marry me is too soon… so I gotta settle into asking you to be my girlfriend,” he whispers after pulling away from the kiss, his heart thumping in his chest, his hope filled eyes staring into your awestruck ones. 

“Not too soon for me but I’ll take the girlfriend title for a while,” you say so calmly, like your heart isn’t about to burst, like the excitement in you isn’t vibrating strongly. 

If Steve wasn’t sitting down, he is sure that his knees would buckle at your words. 

He is so weak for you and he is not sure if you truly realize it. 

But he will show you, again and again until you finally see it. 

He makes you squeal when he moves suddenly and wraps you in his arms, hugging you tightly before he starts peppering kisses to your face, “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you so much, you have no idea how much I do.” Kiss. “You make me the happiest man in the world.” Kiss. “You’re my everything, you’re my stars and my sunshine.” Kiss. “You’re my heart.” Kiss. “My girlfriend.” 

Your cheeks hurt from all the giggling, your brows are scrunched as he keeps kissing all over your face, nuzzling his nose against yours and keeping you close. 

You feel like you’re floating, like the sunshine grazes your skin despite it being night, your chest feels light and you just feel… happy. 

“My boyfriend,” you whisper against his lips, words you never thought would come from your mouth. 

Yeah, his knees would definitely buckle again. 

“Say that again, darling, please…” He begs, pleading with his eyes, he needs it. 

“My love,” you kiss him and smile, “my boyfriend.” 

He kisses you again and again, even when you make it back down on the Ferris Wheel and the guy who advised you to your carriage tells you to get out with his monotone voice and his bored expression, Steve pecks your lips happily, not a single care in the world about the people around him, about the guy who is staring waiting for you both to move. Steve wants everyone to know that you are his girlfriend. 

You are both a giggling mess when you finally walk away and throw yourselves back into the crowd, hands clinging to each other, happy smiles on your faces. 

Before you leave, he wins you a teddy bear and you surprise him by winning one back for him. 

And when you make it to his car by the end of the night, he presses you against it and steals your breath away yet again, he kisses you deeply and holds you tightly, no hunger behind it but love, passion and sweetness. 

Though on your drive back to Hawkins, you both get a little eager when hand holding and kissing at red lights is suddenly not enough anymore. He pulls the car over into a secluded area, where nothing but trees and bushes surround you. You hastily undo the seatbelt and giggle loudly when he pulls you into the backseat, giving you no time to react before he grabs your waist and pulls you on top of him, murmuring just how bad he wants and needs you when his hands slip under your dress. 

You spend the night making love in the backseat of his car, kissing and touching one another in ways no one else ever could. 

Tonight nothing matters. 

Nothing but the two of you. 

You are his and he is yours. 

After all those years, after the negative thoughts, after realizing that maybe you would have to live with this unrequited love for the rest of your life, after thinking that there is no chance at all… After you two started being intimate out of anger, or out of lust, not knowing all the feelings that were behind all of it. All the feelings you held that he didn’t know about, and all the feelings he had and you could only hope were there.

‘Told you you could do it, Sweets.’ It’s what he would have said to you, whispered in your ear as he shook Steve’s hand with disgust, welcoming him as your partner. Your boyfriend. Your future.

Steve is yours. Steve Harrington is finally yours. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs

[clegfly]

just finished omori manga chapter 7 and i am DYING laughing. this shit isnt even bad anymore its just funny bad. oh my god

[reading-writing-dying]

I finished a thing, please clap.

literally out of words to say but be proud of me and enjoy!

also go follow my new sideblog @amberishrose if you want to keep up with my future writing projects because all of that will be happening over there so I don't feel bad about screaming into the void on this mess of a blog ✌️

[worrywarwrites]

ohohohohohoho you know how I used the "it's all coming together" meme a while back? YEAH.

[heavenlyraindrops]

♱Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter Twenty Three♱

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter Twenty Three Warnings: profanity, Alastor is an asshole Visit my pinned post to see all other chapters.

♱ In which the purest soul in Heaven falls from grace… for the Devil. ♱

[Chapter Twenty Three]

“He’s planning to what?” 

You stared at Velvette and Valentino in shock. Valentino groaned, readjusting himself into a more comfortable position on the couch. Velvette rolled her eyes.

“What? It’s not really a big deal.”

“It sure fuckin’ is if he’s gonna probably tear down the princesses hotel in the process,” you spluttered. 

“Well, you knew this would happen if Alastor pissed him off again,” Velvette sighed, exasperated. You were almost shaking with frustration at their dismissive behaviour. 

“What did that red… twink even do this time?” No, I need Alastor alive. You shook the thought away. Hah, like Vox’ll kill him anyways. You turned to look outside the large red windows, scratching at your arms. Could he?

“Uh, nothing, Vox just woke up today and was probably on his period or something,” Velvette said, not looking up from her phone. Your eye twitched. 

“There has to be a reason.”

Velvette rolled her eyes, slamming the phone down. “Look, babes, he’ll be fine.”

Your mind flashed to Charlie and Vaggie, Lucifer, even though you didn’t want it to, and unwelcome concern swelled in your chest. “It’s not him I’m worried about.”

Valentino and Velvette both quirked an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, whether it was out of disinterest or that they were simply too intimidated to ask, watching you pace around the room clawing at your hair, you didn’t know. And weren’t specifically bothered to try and find out. 

“The princesa could probably take care of herself,” Valentino scoffed. “And she has her daddy too, doesn’t she?”

You flinched, then scowled. “Ugh, shut your fat mouth. Your breath smells like all those cocks you suck.” The constant stress had turned your tongue sharp. 

Valentino threw his hands in the air. “Uh, for your information, I’m the one getting sucked,” he retorted, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, so you’re a whore, nice to know.” 

Velvette stood up, sighing as she patted down her hair. “Babes, Val was right. For the uh,” she side eyed him. “First bit. It’s not likely Vox will be able to land a single dent on the princesses little passion project.”

You swallowed your formulating words, retorts, arguments, like pills, using Valentino and Velvette’s logic as the water to make it go down. They were right. But then-

“Well, aren’t you concerned about Vox?”

Velvette shrugged. “He’ll be fine. He’ll realize he’s out of his depth and come crawling back. Or, he doesn’t and we’ll just bail him out. Now sit down and shut up.”

You licked your lips nervously, but didn’t say anything, instead crossing your arms and squeezing into the couch next to Vel. Everything fell quiet.

“But there has to be a reason,” you said finally.

Velvette and Valentino groaned.  

“Listen ángel, Voxxy gets pissed over nothing all the time. Just wait for him to come back soon or go get him if you’re so worried.”

You chewed your lip, worried about running into Lucifer at the hotel, yet- maybe you wanted that. You let out a frustrated groan, grating at the back of your throat. 

“Ugh fuck you,” you muttered to no one in particular as you burrowed your way deeper into the couch cushions. Velvette rolled her eyes and turned back to her phone. 

Ping.

“Oh, lovely.” She rolled her eyes. You stood up.

“What is it? It’s him, isn’t it?”

She pursed her lips. 

“Isn’t it?” 

“I- yeah. Maybe we should go to-“

You were already out the door. 

-

Alastor chuckled, tapping the top of his microphone with a clawed finger. A small buzz emitted from it.

“Why the fuck would you provoke an overlord and bring them to our doorstep?” Vaggie snarled, running her hands through her hair. Charlie looked stricken. Alastor sighed, readjusting his gloves as he peered out through the window.

“Don’t worry, dear, I’ll take care of it,” he snapped, smile strained. Vaggie’s voice grated along his ears- could she be more irritating? 

The TV played on in the background. Your face flashed on the screen, smiling contentedly as you held a phone to your ear. 

Voxtech- it’s angel approved!

You turned to look straight at the camera, and winked, speaking: “Trust us!”

Alastor’s jaw clenched. 

Lucifer stared at your face wordlessly, enraptured for a split second, then turned to Alastor. “He sounded pretty riled up when he, uh-“ he pointed at the screen- “showed up on our fucking TV and started cursing you out!”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “He’ll most likely show up by himself in a fit of anger-“

“What did you say to him?” Charlie groaned.

He flexed his fingers. “It’s not my fault I simply wanted to address his obsession with me. How was I meant to know I’d strike a nerve?” His smile widened. 

Truth be told, he did know it would strike a nerve. He’d lure you to the hotel directly, but had no means of contacting you- he just counted on you showing up as Vox’s backup should things go south for the flatscreen TV. And if that meant slagging Vox using his heartbreak and trauma as a basis, how could he refuse? It was two birds with one stone. 

And as for toying with Vox’s feelings- well. Alastor adjusted his bow tie. Romantic feelings were unfathomable, and therefore, not his problem- especially if they belonged to Vox.

As for his motivations?

He took a single glance at Lucifer’s face, the shadows under his eyes, the lines of stress, the way he longingly looked at your face on the television, and the satisfaction that stirred in the Radio Demon’s chest said more than enough.   Not only that, but if he could use your emotions to his advantage, he could even lay claim to your soul. Imagine the things he could do with an angel by his side, at his beck and call… his mouth watered at just the thought-

“Alastor…” Vaggie’s voice was a low warning.

“What if he’s angry enough to bring [name] along with him?” Charlie wailed, then froze. “What if she smites us?”

Lucifer groaned. “Charlie, [name] isn’t that powerful.” His throat clenched up. “You have me, I’ll just…”

“What? Kill her?” Alastor suggested. Lucifer flinched, hard.

“I’ll kill you first, Bambi,” he hissed. Alastor laughed. 

“Still can’t believe you’d rile up another overlord on purpose,” Vaggie snapped. Alastor rolled his eyes, a dull ache forming in the back of his head. 

“It will be completely fine,” he drawled. “Vox can hardly lay a finger on this place.”

“He better not,” Vaggie spat.

Something crashed outside, accompanied by a shout and then: “Come out, you red fucker!” Causing everyone to look at each other simultaneously. 

“That’s your cue,” Lucifer snapped, flicking his head at the door. Alastor’s lip curled wryly.

He stepped outside.

Vox clutched his arm where he had tripped and fallen, from spontaneously shooting out of a street lamp- charming, sure. Alastor tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “May I help you?”

“You know what the fuck you did,” Vox snarled. “Sometimes, you bastard, you just take things too far.”

“So what? Everything I said was true. Plus, are three rejections not enough for you to take the hint?” He smirked, tapping his cane on the ground.  

“Rejections from what?” Vox hissed, eyes narrowing. “Stop making it out like I fucking asked you out or something.”

“Oh, but you wanted me, didn’t you?” Alastor taunted. “Shame that disappearing for seven years couldn’t shake you off- you are quite clingy.” Twisted versions of the truth spilled from his lips, woven as quickly as they were spoken. “I wonder how Valentino feels.” He sighed. “Shame he still indulges in all those other… people, despite your obvious attempts to make a true connection- it seems he simply doesn’t want to commit. Although, is it to you specifically, or…?”

“Oh, piss off. Stop stalking my sex life.” Vox’s voice wavered. “And Valentino doesn’t make commitments.”

Alastor snapped his fingers. “So it is that.”

Vox almost short circuited, and without thinking, he threw himself at Alastor, who pulled away before Vox could touch him.

“Oh, you wanna dance?” Vox spat.

Alastor’s shoulders tensed. Vox’s face split into a pissed grin.

“Let’s fucking dance.”

[yan-fairy]

reading alberose fanfiction from albedo’s perspective is literally just going, “oh my god he’s so in love” every five seconds.

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Chapter Twenty-Eight

(AO3 counterpart here.)

However, the world does not stop for grief. Fireheart and the rest of the Clan had duties to attend to, prey to catch, borders to mark. Keeping them busy would stave off that sinkhole of despair; that seemed to be the running theory, anyway, if Speckletail’s constant orders were anything to go by.

Fireheart didn’t blame her. She was in a tough situation, he knew that, and she was doing an admirable job for what she had in her supply. But it did strike him that she was more running herself ragged than busying her Clanmates.

“I’m fine,” she would say every single time Fireheart checked on her. “Just do your duties and take care of your apprentice. Let me handle this.”

And every time, with increasing exasperation, he would think, Why would you expect me of all cats to drop the subject when you’re visibly not doing well? He’d never say it, but he was certain it was showing on his face, because she’d dart her eyes away and hurry off to do something else.

He obeyed her, at least, kind of just to humor her. Not entirely—Cloudpaw was eager to learn and explore, and Fireheart was eager to show him new knacks and skills. Having Cloudpaw’s learning style on the mind, his nephew caught onto lessons quickly. Fireheart watched with pride as his nephew started finding and catching prey on his own (though he still missed the jump here and there). Even better, he seemed as disinterested in learning to fight as Fireheart was in teaching him.

“Figures,” Darkstripe muttered one night. “The cat who’s never even raised a paw to defend his Clan would have an apprentice just like him.”

Fireheart’s thoughts escaped him before he could trap them between his teeth. “Well, hopefully your apprentice is learning a lot of great fighting skills from you. You’re famous for that, I hear.”

Darkstripe twitched his lip, but didn’t respond. Cloudpaw gave Fireheart a cheeky look, and he couldn’t resist a wink back.

One night, Cloudpaw was unusually subdued. Fireheart had brought him out to the southern part of the forest for tree-climbing practice on a surprisingly clear night, the stars glittering overhead and the air kindly still. At Fireheart’s order, Cloudpaw clambered up a few trees, sliding down once or twice and landing on his back, getting covered in snow. Even this didn’t seem to make him want to talk.

Well, Fireheart knew what to do with that. “Is something bothering you, little guy?”

Cloudpaw stood up from his slide down a trunk, shuffling his feet a little. Bark-slivers were pulled off his claws as he sharpened them on an exposed root. He didn’t look at his uncle for a long moment, until he approached and more-or-less forced eye contact.

“Do kittypets go out at night?” he asked at last.

Fireheart had a faint idea where this was going. “They sometimes do. They’re usually up in the day, or in the evening. Why?”

As he suspected, Cloudpaw hesitated before asking quietly, “Can we go see Rosy?”

Fireheart only paused to gauge what time of night it was: a little less than halfway through. To the increasingly nervous-looking Cloudpaw, he said, “Of course we can. Come on.”

He turned around and started off towards the Houses. Cloudpaw scurried along behind him, catching up quickly with his tail high and bristling in stress at the same time. Fireheart let him sort through his anxieties on his own, and the organized questions came soon:

“What if she doesn’t come out?”

“We’ll try another night.”

“Will we get in trouble if someone sees us?”

“Speckletail is pretty understanding. But we might get scolded a little by anyone else.” He blinked reassuringly. “Don’t worry. No one’s coming this way tonight and we have time to chat a little before anyone wonders where we are.”

Then a much bigger worry. “…What if she doesn’t like me?”

Fireheart stopped at that one and gave his nephew a gentle look. “She will. I promise.”

Cloudpaw met his eyes, saw the confidence in them, and settled. He took in a deep breath and nodded, walking with a more certain stride alongside his uncle.

They reached the Houses quickly. Fireheart took the lead, trotting through the grass and onto the stony, skinny road. Cloudpaw made a face at the new texture on his paws, but he didn’t say anything until they stopped in front of Rosy’s house.

“Is this it?” he whispered, like he was afraid to be heard.

Fireheart nodded. “You’ll be able to climb this fence easy, but wait for my signal. I want to surprise her.”

At this, Cloudpaw’s eyes lit up. He sat down and watched Fireheart leap up onto the top of the fence and jump down into the yard without a word.

“Rosy!” Fireheart called, pawing at the flap in the door. “Rosy?”

Only a heartbeat passed before he was nearly tackled by his sister as she sped out of the house. She barely stopped in time to avoid completely bowling him over, but he did have to stumble back a few steps.

“Fireheart!” she cried, purring like a car. She wove around him, rubbing her fur and face on his shoulders and neck. “You’re here!”

“I am here.” Fireheart bumped his head against hers when she stood still for a moment. “I’m sorry it’s been so long. A lot’s been happening.”

“I– I heard.” Rosy’s joy slipped into an anxiety similar to Cloudpaw’s. “The fire, I smelled the smoke. I was so worried for you and Cloudy. Is he okay? When can I see him again?”

“Oh…” Fireheart falsely paused in uncertainty. “About that…”

He immediately regretted the joke when Rosy’s yellow-green eyes bulged in terror. Quickly, he turned his head and called, “Come on over!”

A bit of scraping and scrabbling, and a ginger-pointed face popped up over the fenceline. Rosy gasped as Cloudpaw landed with admirable grace and stood as tall as he could. Fireheart realized too late that there was still snow on his back.

“Cloudpaw,” Fireheart said, gesturing, “This is your birth-mother, Rosy.”

He didn’t get a chance to say anything else. Rosy burst forward with a cry of joy and scooped up the considerably wider apprentice in a single-paw embrace, holding him to her chest like he was still a tiny kit. Fireheart watched with amusement and warmth as Rosy licked the top of her son’s head, purring so loudly Fireheart half-wondered if her humans could hear her.

“Oh, look at you!” She drew back to touch her nose to where she had licked. “Look at my baby boy!” She released him to wind around him too, nosing him and chattering excitedly. “You’re so big and handsome now, Cloudy, look at how lovely your fur is- oh, you poor thing, you’re covered in snow, here—”

Cloudpaw had a face Fireheart wished he could somehow capture somewhere other than his memory: confused, startled, bashful, and cautiously happy all at once. It was quite a mix of emotions to see as Rosy dusted his back and sides clear of any remaining snow, still talking the whole time.

“…and your colors are coming out so beautifully, you look just like your father—” She finally came to a stop in front of him, purring through her words. “You must be such a big, strong warrior!”

“Oh…” Cloudpaw meekly lowered his head a bit. “I’m just an apprentice right now.”

“He became one early,” Fireheart told Rosy. “He’s Cloudpaw now.”

“Oh, yes, yes, sorry.” Rosy shook her head. “Name changing, I forgot.” She returned her attention to her son. “When do you get your warrior name? Will it be soon? You have to come and tell me as soon as you get it! I’d love to hear your real grown-up name!”

“Rosy?” Fireheart took a step towards her. She looked his way and he twitched his whiskers. “You’re overwhelming him a little.”

Rosy looked back at Cloudpaw, who gave her a sheepish nod, and stepped back with a deep inhale. She shook herself hard and spoke slower.

“I’m sorry, baby boy,” she said, still shuffling a little in place. “I’m just so excited to see you again! Fireheart must have told you, I gave him to you so that I could know you were safe and happy.” Her ears fell back a little and her voice softened. “All of your siblings went away to different houses so long ago. I miss you and them every single day. I’m just so grateful that you got to live nearby and be taken care of. The molly who nursed you, will you tell her I said ‘thank you for raising my son’?”

Cloudpaw stiffened immediately. His eyes darted to Fireheart’s, and his uncle stepped in.

“She knows,” he said. “And she was happy to raise him.”

Rosy didn’t appear to notice the change in his volume; she simply continued on with the conversation. “Tell me everything! I heard you grew up with that molly’s litter? What are they like? How is being an apprentice? What’s your favorite thing about the forest? I want to hear it all!”

“W-well, um…” Cloudpaw sat down at a gesture from Rosy. “My brother and sister are Ashpaw and Aspenpaw. They’re both grey, like mi.”

“‘Mi’,” Rosy echoed, a little muted herself. Before anyone had time to reflect or respond, she shook her head and brightened up again. “Are they big and fluffy like the rest of your Clan?”

“Well, Ashpaw’s pretty skinny,” Cloudpaw said, slowly growing more confident. “He’s not as tall, either. Aspenpaw, she’s regular-sized. We all train together sometimes. It’s really fun, because we’re still kind of playing, but we’re learning at the same time.”

“He’s been excellent at tracking down prey so far,” Fireheart added. “And he’s snuck up on me in the snow before he was even an apprentice.”

Rosy trilled. “You’re amazing! I knew you would be.”

Cloudpaw relaxed a little more. “I mean, I just follow pawprints and scents. It’s not really that hard… but I like doing that in the forest, too. I didn’t see any of it before the fire, because kits aren’t allowed out of camp until they become apprentices.” He perked up. “And Fireheart saved us! Eparme*, tell her about that.”

“We’re supposed to be showing you off.” Fireheart approached and sat down to the side so Rosy still had complete access to Cloudpaw. “I can tell her about that later.”

Rosy shuddered. “Yes, please wait. I’d love to hear the story someday, but the idea of you both being stuck in a fire… it’s too awful.”

“It was really scary,” Cloudpaw confirmed. “But we’re okay now.” He hesitated. “But… Patchpelt died, when we were running away.”

“Ohhh…” Rosy moved forward and started grooming Cloudpaw’s head. “I’m so sorry, baby boy. Was he a good friend of yours?”

Cloudpaw spoke quietly. “He was an elder, and he was nice. Ravenwing was really, really sad.”

“My friend,” Fireheart elaborated. “Patchpelt was his grandfather.”

Rosy looked to Fireheart now. “Was he the one I met? Black and skinny?”

Fireheart nodded.

“Poor thing…” Rosy turned back to Cloudpaw, but she seemed to be speaking to herself. “I don’t know if it’s worse to know exactly what happened to someone you love or to never know.”

There was a brief moment of silence.

Fireheart broke it. “Cloudpaw, is there anything else you want to tell Rosy? We should leave pretty soon, before dawn starts coming up.”

“Uh…” Cloudpaw thought for a moment. His words were soft and a bit hesitant, but they were earnest. “It was nice to meet you, Rosy. Mira. Um. You know.” He straightened up again. “I’ll come back when I can.” He peeked at Fireheart. “If I can.”

Fireheart nodded warmly.

Rosy rasped her tongue over his left ear. “Please do come back soon, Cloudpaw. And Fireheart. I’ve missed you both so much. It was torture, not knowing if you were okay.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Fireheart stood up, tilting his head with the apology. “We ended up traveling all the way across the territories to live in the Barn—a big, empty house—and we had to wait to go home until all the humans were gone.”

 Rosy sighed in a sad way, rather than exasperation or frustration. “I think I can be ready to hear the story the next time you come by. When will that be, do you know?”

Cloudpaw looked inquiringly at Fireheart.

“I don’t,” he said. “There’s still a lot going on for us.”

Another inquiring look, one with a clear message: Do we tell her about…?

About what didn’t matter. There were too many things to say that would send her into a panic. Fireheart just shook his head.

“Well, alright…” Rosy licked Cloudpaw’s forehead a final time, then turned and pressed her own head under Fireheart’s chin. “Thank you for coming. Thank you so much for– for everything. Taking care of him, teaching him, bringing him here…” Her wide eyes were wet when she drew back. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

Fireheart touched his nose just above and between her eyes. “It’s been an honor.”

Cloudpaw said nothing, just blinked kindly at his mother. Rosy blinked back and stood there, watching them as they jumped up onto the rail and over the fence. Fireheart didn’t hear her flap open again, even after they were quite a distance away.

“She was nice,” Cloudpaw said at last. “I like her.”

“Good!” Fireheart bobbed his head encouragingly. “I meant it when I said I don’t know when we can go back, but I’ll get you back there as soon as I can. As long as it’s safe.”

Cloudpaw paused. “Should we have told her about the dogs? What if they come into the Houses?”

Fireheart sighed. “My friend here knows about them. The last I heard, rumors were going around, but Rosy doesn’t leave her yard very often. And, well, I didn’t want to tell her about the dogs when they’ve done… what they’ve done.”

Cloudpaw shivered.

“If you weren’t there, I would have said something,” Fireheart continued. “But I can’t bring you to her for the first time and immediately tell her you’ve been in more danger than just the fire.”

“…Okay.”

Fireheart looked at his nephew. “What’s on your mind? The dogs?”

“No,” Cloudpaw almost murmured. “I’m just thinking.”

Fireheart tapped his side with his tail. “Well, if you want to share those thoughts, I’m right here. Rosy will be, too.”

 At this, the tension in Cloudpaw’s body eased. His fur smoothed out and his tail raised.

“Yeah.” His eyes softened. “She will. I’m glad I met her.”

“See, I told you she’d like you, remember?”

A small crease in his blue eyes. “…Yeah.”

*“Eparme”: uncle.

[lilalbatross]

STAR TREK: STRANGE NEW WORLDS 2x05 | Charades

[demaparbat-hp]

For the Spirits—Chapter III: Keep Your Plans

At the risk of feeling dumb, check in

It's not worth the risk of losing a friend

Even if they say:

“Just keep your plans, I hope

That you never have to drop

Anything for me.”

—At The Risk Of Feeling Dumb by Twenty One Pilots

.

Yume had to resist the urge to sigh. She already knew how this would go. All roads led to tea, Pai Sho, and no straight answers. If she could go back in time and reach out to her younger self, she’d warn the tired face in the mirror to enjoy Iroh’s company while he still made sense.

She cursed the Crew under her breath, doing her best to give the General a smile back or, at least, keep a straight face.

Why did I even say yes to this?

[into-the-midst]

Had a copy on my shelf! Here’s every quote I found about this: Ch23: Malfoy Manor "Delicious girl...What a treat...I do enjoy the softness of the skin..." - "So you're related to the blood traitors even if you're not a Mudblood. And lastly, your pretty little friend..." The relish in his voice made Harry's flesh crawl. "Easy Greyback," and Scabior over the jeering of the others. "Oh, I'm not going to bite just yet." - "Reckon she'll let me have a bit of the girl when she's finished with her?" Greyback crooned as he forced them along the corridor. "I'd say I'll get a bite or two, wouldn't you, ginger?" - "And I think," said Bellatrix's voice, "We can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."

I haven't read the books in more than a decade. Can anyone tell me if it was in the [final] book, during when Harry, Hermione and Ron were taken to Malfoy Manor, that Fenrir actually "wanted" Hermione and was kinda promised to have her after Bellatrix was done with her. With fandom owning every inch of my brain the fact and fiction bleed together and I can't tell them apart sometimes.

I can't find anything, in the HP Wikia, about Bellatrix promising Hermione to Grayback after the torture, but he did want to bite them, particularly her.

I cannot remember if that was a movie thing either.

But loads of people use it in their fics, so maybe it's more of a fandom thing that was exaggerated, rather than canon.

-Lisa

[thesweetnessofspring]

Roses and Pearls by HalfHope (thesweetnessofspring)

Rated: E

Description: Peeta Mellark is the sole victor of the Quarter Quell. With District 12 nothing but ash, he rebuilds his life by moving to the Capitol and falling in love with Rosalia Snow, granddaughter to Coriolanus Snow.

Then people Peeta thought long dead kidnap him and Rosalia, including the one person he hates more than anyone: Katniss Everdeen. They say he's been hijacked. They say that he used to love her. Locked away in District 13, Peeta is determined to protect his mind and his fiancée from the rebels. But while imprisoned, videos disprove his memories and his feelings toward Katniss grow confusing. Who can he trust, and what really happened in his past?

Thank you @louezem for all of your help getting this chapter ready with your feedback!

Chapter One | Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Neither of us can sleep that night, even as the bombs eventually dissipate. We don’t get quite as active again, but by morning our shirts are untucked and unbuttoned and our skin warms each other, against our torso and our hands. When the lights come on, Katniss looks a mess. Bleary-eyed from the little sleep before the attack, hair sticking up from her head like a fluff of cotton, and her lips red and swollen. She pulls the blanket over her to button her shirt, looking at me sheepishly in the dull yellow light replacing sunrise. What I wouldn't give to see a sunrise.

“Morning,” I say, feeling as shy as she looks. I can put my life on the line for this woman and flip into a bold-talking seducer with the lights off, but now it’s the next morning, and things might be different now that no bombs shake the shelter.

“Morning,” she says. Then she bites her lip and asks, “Are you okay?”

“About us? I’m the best I’ve ever been,” I say. “The rest of everything, though…”

“Is shit?”

I scrub my face. Bombs, destroying who knows how much of District 13. The people who didn’t make it in the bunker. And Rosalia, still going after me, not giving up. Somehow nearly taking me again. 

“Complete and utter shit,” I agree.

With the lights on and people stirring awake, White comes on over the loudspeaker again.

Continue reading on ao3

[amethystskeleton]

(Excerpt from Chapter 23):

However the strangest thing of all was the nurses. One standing at the top of the stairs. Two standing at the exit doors. Another passing by them in the hallways. Liam had no idea how it had happened but it seemed like every time he came to school the amount of nurses had increased tenfold. For as much as they had felt like an odd presence in the beginning it was only worse now. It felt like being a rat in a cage while the scientists stuck their hands in every so often to lift out a rat or two for testing. 

Once they reached the gym Liam felt as his heart dropped lower in his chest. The entryway to the gym had three sets of double doors, so six doors in total. All six of which had a nurse in a white lab coat posted in front of them. Some of the nurses actually looked like nurses with their hair pinned back and proper masks covering the lower half of their faces. However, others in the mix looked like the last time they had seen the inside of a hospital had been on the day of their birth. Hell, Liam could even see the still hovering cloud of what looked like cigarette smoke lingering around one of the nurses. 

[next-autopsy]

A/N: Well, hi there! This chapter is dedicated to @malarkgirlypop as a reward 💕

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: none I think? swearing maybe?

Tags: @malarkgirlypop, @panzershrike-pretz

Made of Glass

Chapter twenty three: May I Have This Dance?

Living an ocean away from her family and home town wasn’t as difficult as Birdie thought it would be. She had already been away from them for over a year, she’d celebrated Christmas, the New Year of ‘43 and her twentieth birthday away from the people she had shared her entire life with. 

Moving to Aldbourne, England felt meager in comparison. 

Due to limited space, the women of the 506th 2nd battalion were made to share barracks with the men in their platoons. There were around twenty to thirty cots set up in each round barn-like building. There were also no specified women's showers or toilets, so escorts were somewhat needed again. 

When Easy company was made aware of the new sleeping arrangements, the men of 2nd platoon took it upon themselves to set Birdie up in the corner of the room, nearest to the door. Toye insisted he take the bed next to the woman, while Bill claimed the one opposite to her.   

The first night with her new roommates was the hardest.

Bed time came around and the men in her barracks began stripping off as they usually would. The woman averted her eyes, choosing to stare at the ceiling and study each mark and line. As she gazed upwards, Birdie realized she, too, would have to change her clothes in front of all the men. 

“You okay, Little Bird?” Bill spoke, noticing her fidgeting hands and the way she bit her lip, she most definitely had something on her mind. 

“Uhh…” Her eyesight flicked to the man addressing her, then when she saw his bare chest her vision went straight back up. “Should I- I mean…uh, D-Do I just change here…or…?” 

After that little encounter, Toye and Guarnere hung a couple of sheets up to section off a corner giving Birdie a smidge of privacy while she changed. 

When Birdie was finally ready to curl up in her new bed and sleep, the snoring started. Sleeping alongside the men was more difficult than she imagined. 

Bernadette wasn’t really a morning person but she usually functioned well enough. When she woke, the first morning in the men's barracks, Birdie felt like shit. The constant snoring kept her up and every time she was close to falling asleep, a particularly loud snort would wake her. 

“Good morning, Little Bird.” Luz chirped at her sleeping figure. Birdie groaned out as a reply, unable and unwilling to answer with words. He laughed at her and tried again to rouse the woman, but she only swatted a hand in his general direction and pulled the blanket over her head. 

“Come on, Birdie. You’ll miss breakfast.” George sign-songed, attempting to appeal to her.

“Fuck off.” She mumbled at him, adding a “Leave me ‘lone.” for good measure. Luz didn’t seem to get her message as he kept trying to wake her. At last, fed up with his persistence, she sat up, pushing the covers off of her and letting them fall into her lap. 

“Ah, there she is! You-”

“I am going… To. Kill. You.” Bernadette cut him off. She did not want to hear his voice this early after such a shocking night with little sleep. George just grinned at her threat and the glare stuck on her face.

“Well, someone’s not a morning-oof.” Birdie threw her pillow directly at him, successfully shutting him up. 

—------------------------

Being in England meant Birdie could now legally drink, with no repercussions from Lipton or Johnny. And there were more pubs here than she could count. Since she didn’t see the girls every day anymore, they all agreed to make an effort to meet at a previously chosen local pub every saturday night. 

This week's meet up was at the ‘King’s Head’ and Birdie was excited. All she wanted was to sip on some whiskey, maybe have a dance or two and chat with her girls. 

She was wearing her class A’s with the pencil skirt, stockings and heels. Birdie put on her signature ‘night out’ red lipstick and let her hair down in voluminous victory rolls. She shared a cab with Toye and Guarnere, who refused to let her pay the fare. 

When the trio arrived at the drinking establishment, she ran ahead and bought the first round to repay them. While the men complained at her sneaky little gesture, they didn't refuse the alcohol, finding an empty table and sitting to chug the first drink of the night. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” The unmistakable voice of Blythe Alderidge sounded from behind Birdie. She grinned into her drink before turning to face the woman.

“Oh, I see they let just anyone in nowadays.” Her joke was well received by the three women who stood with Blythe. They all smiled, exchanging hugs and pleasantries. 

“Lucy and Betty couldn’t make it.” Frankie informed, drink already in her hand. When did she have the time to order that? 

“Next time.” The ladies took over the table, catching each other up with the events of the week. They yapped and laughed for what might’ve been hours, until one brave British lad approached the group. 

“Good evenin’, ladies.” He puffed up his chest and spoke confidently, eyeing up Birdie specifically, “Might I steal a dance?” He was staring at her, arm reaching out to her as an invitation. It took Birdie a second to realize he was waiting for her answer. She was about to politely decline, before she could get the words out, Charlotte answered for her.

“Of course you can…” she gave her friend a shove, “right, Birdie?” Smiling sweetly while throwing Birdie to a wolf. Her jostling had pushed Bernadette towards the stranger and to balance herself she had grabbed onto his outstretched hand. He took that as her accepting his request for a dance and led her to the area designated for bogeying.

“Birdie? What a beautiful name.” The man spoke up, his accent made it hard for her to understand him as he talked so fast.

“Oh uh… thank you.” She needed another drink if she was going to have to put up with this small talk. He spun her once, bringing her closer when she twirled back to him. Birdie noticed his not so slick move and was not impressed. 

“What an accent… where are you from, love?” Her head tilted at the nickname.  

“Mississippi.” She paused, then remembered how conversations worked, “And, you? Are you from around here?”

“Me? Nah, I'm from London.” He told her before spinning her yet again. After that the conversation dulled down and Birdie began to feel uncomfortable. The man let his hand slide down the curve of her back ever so slightly, but Birdie still noticed. 

When the song concluded, the mystery man offered to buy her a drink. While that was exactly what she needed, she found herself trying to come up with an excuse.

“I should probably check in with my girls.” Birdie took a step away from him, praying he would get the message and that she wouldn’t have to elaborate. 

“Oh, okay, I'll come with you.” He stepped in her direction, smiling. Birdie's shoulders sagged,  she really didn’t want to be rude to this guy, he hadn’t done anything wrong, she just wasn’t feeling it and wanted to spend time with her friends. 

“That’s okay. You don't have to do that.” She was doing her best to shake him. She didn’t even know his name, did he seriously think this was going well?

“I want to-” The British man was interrupted by an American voice, one Birdie recognised.

“Take a hint. She’s not interested.” Liebgott stood nearby, smoke hanging out of his mouth. His posture was nonchalant, like he was trying too hard to look cool and it made Birdie giggle, which gained the attention of both men. One smirked at her and the other glared.  

“You what, mate?” The stranger straightened his stance and stepped towards Joe, who didn't move at all, completely unfazed.

“She’s obviously trying to get rid of you.” Lieb explained, shrugging his shoulders.

“Are you?” Birdie’s brief dance partner looked over his shoulder at her. 

“Well… I was trying to be polite.” She winced, she really was trying to spare his feelings but he was persistent. 

“See?” Joe smirked, inhaling his cigarette and exhaling into the man's face. This only seemed to piss him off, Birdie could see an upcoming altercation and positioned herself closer to the two men, in case she had to break something up. 

“Why don't you shut your mouth, stupid fuckin’ yank.” Both Birdie and Joe dropped their jaws, though Lieb covered his reaction. This guy had nerve. Bernadette was at her limit, she didn't appreciate him barging in on her precious time with her girlfriends, she hated the stupid small talk and he was a shitty dancer. And now, he was insulting her friend. That was enough.

“Excuse you?” Her pitch went up, “You don’t get to talk to him like that! Who the fuck do you think you are?” He had upset her and now she had the urge to fight him. Where was Frankie and her knife when she needed it?

“Whatever,” The Brit started to walk away, but very quietly (not quiet enough though) he muttered under his breath, “A whore like you ain’t worth it.” 

He didn’t take another step. It was only a second after he uttered the words and he was falling to the floor. Lieb had swung in record time, hitting the man with such force that he toppled to the ground. 

Bernadette moved closer to Joe, grasping onto his forearm firmly, letting him know that was enough. He had done his job of protecting her honour and now they could leave the poor guy on the floor. Joe seemed to silently understand this as he turned and the pair made their way away from whoever that guy was. 

“Thanks.” Birdie spoke once they sat down, “For hitting him.” 

“No problem. He shouldn’t of called you that.” Joe was shaking his head, disgusted with his gender. 

“It’s fine, I-“

“But it’s not.” His tone was angry but not at her. He was just angry, angry that she was about to say she was used to it. Joe had met a lot of women and, while he didn’t love the word, some of them would be classified as whores. But not Birdie. She was too kind, too funny, too pretty, too sweet, too stubborn, too intelligent to be considered a whore. She spent all day around men, living, eating, training with men and not once had he seen her flirt. 

“No it’s not.” She could tell his anger was stewing inside that brain of his, she took it upon herself to try to calm him,  “Not really, but that doesn’t change the fact that he said it. It’s no use letting some jerk like that ruin our night.”  

Liebgott let her words sink in. ‘Our night’ she had said. Our. Me and you. Us. 

“Wanna get out of here?” Joe spoke before he could stop himself. He just wanted to be alone with her, where no one could steal her away for a dance while he watched helplessly. He wanted to talk to her without having to compete for her attention. 

“Sure. Just let me tell the girls, okay?”

A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed x

~ Nex ~

Chapter twenty four

[heavenlyraindrops]

The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter Twenty Three

available on AO3 and Quotev | visit the first tag for other chapters | warnings: profanity, child kidnapping, implied drugging children

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter Twenty Three:

“…she hasn’t left her room in ages, Sev, I don’t think she’ll come out to see you. Especially if…”

Your back pressed to your bedroom door, you listened to Donna and Sevika’s conversation in the office. The room was messy and dark, curtains drawn, bathing the walls in cold shadows. Your hair fell in front of your face, breathing ragged as you pressed the back of your head to the wood.

“…really so-…”

Sevika’s voice faded in and out. Your head throbbed. 

She’d been visiting all week, at least once every two days. At least. 

You couldn’t face anyone, in fear of a meltdown. So instead you stayed inside your room. If you didn’t have to face the outside world, you wouldn’t have to face the aftermath within it. What happened wouldn’t have been real. That was your logic. 

Silco was right. You were delusional. You were crazy. You closed your eyes and the image of him bleeding out in his chair was seared behind your eyelids.

You turned over a toy in your hands. It was a cube, made up of smaller cubes, one colour on each side. Allison’s stupid toy. You twisted it and it clicked, then twisted it back. You couldn’t bear to mess up the colours.

Am I a curse? Every child I take in dies. Hands trembling, you dropped the cube and it clunkily rolled across the carpet.

Someone softly knocked on the door. You didn’t reply.

The doorknob turned, and whoever was on the other side seemed to take it as an invitation to enter. They pushed the door open, and Donna stepped in, looking down at you. 

“[name],” she whispered softly. “What are we going to do?”

You looked up at her through your hair, nails digging into your arms. Donna sat down next to you, eyes looking at you, full of concern.

“The Haven has suffered so much loss,” she whispered. “We can’t lose our leader too. We need you more than ever.”

The sliver of light coming through the door landed on your eye, illuminating the bloodshot viens across your sclera. Donna’s eyes were watery, the skin beneath them red and raw.

“Is she really gone?” You rasped. Donna’s face contorted with agony, and she put her head on your shoulder, letting out a sob. Your ragged composure began to crack. 

“Yes.”

You pushed her off of you. She looked up at you as you slowly rose. Your nose was stinging, throat was dry, eyes were burning. A single tear slipped down your face.

You sniffled, wiping your nose, and looked away. “I’ve shown enough weakness.” Your voice was still gravelly, but it had steadied. “I won’t let them get away with this.”

Donna stood up and wrapped her arms around your shaking shoulders as you silently sobbed into the crook of her neck.

-

Sevika continued to call by. By now she’d figured out you’d pulled yourself back together, emerging from the depths of your room to run the Haven. Donna told you it was to discuss the compensation for the casualties, to ‘clear up misunderstandings.’

Whatever the fuck that meant.

There were no misunderstandings. Their explosion had killed your Allison. The worst part was: they’d taken the opportunity of your abscence to secure the building. This would not stand.

So you decided to take some proper action. 

One threatening trip to Hilda’s shop told you all you needed to know. Jinx came in at least once every week, sometimes even multiple evenings in a row. If it wasn’t for art supplies, it was for puzzles, toys or junk to tinker or mess around with. She stepped into the store unsupervised, while Sevika waited outside.

Alice had always liked art. 

Allison had always enjoyed puzzles. 

The sky was already growing dark, courtesy to winter, when you set out, dressed in simple, practically clothes to enter Hilda’s shop. The bell tinkled. You crossed your arms, ducking behind an aisle where no one would see you. Hilda wasn’t behind the counter. 

The bell tinkled again, and Jinx skipped in. You stepped out from the shadows. She noticed you, and froze as you slowly stepped towards her.

“Jinx,” you murmured in greeting, then smiled softly. She relaxed a little, stepping back. “Hey. It’s been a while, am I right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, it has.” You grinned, plucking a little metal flower from a shelf. You turned it over. 

“Any news?”

She shrugged, crossing her arms as she walked around. She stopped at a little shelf, and looked up. On the very top was a box full of tools. She stretched towards it. You stepped behind her, and grabbed the box, dumping it onto the floor with a thud. She grinned at you gratefully. 

She leaned down to rummage through the box, screwdrivers and wenches clattering onto the dusty floor next to your feet. “Some big thing happened at this factory Silco was trying to get.” She finally found what she wanted- a large screwdriver. She raised it to her lips, blowing the dust off of it. “No one will tell me what happened, and I’m not allowed to see him. But I heard that ogre Sevika talking- they’re saying he’s been stabbed. They also said he’s pretty much healed but…” She suddenly frowned, staring at the floor. “I don’t want him to die.” Her voice was small.

Your heart wrenched painfully with guilt, but you pushed it down, leaning down to her level. You plucked the screwdriver from her hands. She let you. “I don’t either,” you whispered. “But don’t worry. He won’t. He’s sent me to come get you.”

She looked up, large blue eyes looking at you hopefully. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Your voice was hushed. “Sevika needs to run off to attend to a little errand, and they’ve asked me to take you home.”

Jinx shuffled on her feet, perplexed. “Well… stranger danger.”

You grinned, but it was strained. “I’m his best friend, remember? And we’ve met before. We’re friends, not strangers.” She frowned.

“Tell me one thing about him a stranger wouldn’t know.”

You racked your brains, trying to think of a fact. The way they came to you so naturally made you feel slightly nauseous. “…His favourite colour is red.” You lowered your voice to a playful, conspiratorial hush. “Did you know when he was younger, he used to wear eyeliner?”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes lit up.

“Let’s go!”

“Right.” You stepped in front of her, blocking her way to the door. “But let’s go through the back. It’s faster that way.” 

Jinx frowned slightly, but then nodded. You took her hand, gently leading her through to the back door.

Hilda was leaning against the back wall as you stepped out into the cold air, smoking a joint. You stared at her flatly, Jinx’s hand in yours. She stared at you, mouth opening in panic.

Without another word, you left, walking down the street. Once you’d turned the corner, you discreetly pulled a small syringe from your pocket, smiling at Jinx as she looked up at you. Blissfully unaware of what was about to happen next.

This will only hurt a little, you thought.