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ultralightpoe · 2 months

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Vigilante Shit - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Never liked this one which is why it stayed in the drafts fr so long, it just always seemed empty. It's definitely missing something.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Word Count:9,131

Warnings: Cuss words, reader was once apart of the red room

Apart of my MIDNIGHTS EVENT.

Main Masterlist

Enjoy!

Draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man

You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them

Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie

They say looks can kill and I might try

I don't dress for women

I don't dress for men

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

It’s the pity on her face that makes you want to claw her eyes out, or maybe the happy family photo sitting on her desk staring and taunting you with their stupid smiling faces. Each of her children smiled like nothing was wrong in the world, like they didn’t have to worry about earning their way or surviving the day.

Dr. Aquinos children would never know pain.

But that was a given, they weren’t bought and sold off. They weren’t tortured and abused for years only to be torn out when Natasha fucking Romanoff decides to free everyone from that chain and force them into the real world.

Did it make you pathetic to say you missed it?

In the red room you had a cot, a meal at least once a day and training. Out here you were no one. No trace of you existed. No ids, or photos, no friends or family. You were nothing.

Even ghosts had more than you at this point.

“You know it’s common to feel this way about it? That longing to have it back? It’s the pain and the change, you feel like you have nothing right now but I can assure you that’s not true.”

You say nothing.

“Have you given any thought to our last session?” The therapist asks, voice saccharine amount of sweet that tells you she knows your looking for a fight today and she won’t be giving into it. You hated that she knew you would try that, you hated these sessions all together.

“Yes.” Lie. And judging by the quirk in her smile she knows it too.

“I think it’s extremely important for you in this next step, to get rid of the suit. What was it they called you?” You don’t reply for a minute, your own little form of rebellion, but she doesn’t let you get away with it for long. “The…. Cobra?”

“The. Viper.” You bite out, grinding your teeth together and fisting your hands at your side. “The Red Viper to be exact.”

“Can you explain to me why it is you got that name? I mean your other counter parts all follow a …..widow theme….. but you don’t?”

“It just….. happened that way.” You lie. “How much longer do we have?”

Why did she not have a clock?

“Ah. So the story has something to do with Bucky Barnes.” She smiles and you fight back the sneer.

“Nope.”

“You always ask for the time when memories of him are brought up.”

Not. True. You don’t bother arguing because that might prove her point.

“Can you recall what he looked like?”

A flash of ice blue crosses your mind, his eyes. Followed by roses and ballet slippers. A small opening to freedom right there in your grasp, his smiling face….. replaced by that of betrayal, the pain and torture you suffered for weeks after because he-

“No.” You lie. “I only knew him as the winter soldier.”

“Have you tried reaching out?”

“No. And I never will.” Not until you were able to kill him, get your revenge.

Your therapist didn’t know about your revenge list though,she would have you imprisoned for it. The list of names of every mastermind and agent that did you wrong, and at the very end of the list was the one person you actually managed to trick you, the one person you gave everything you had left to.

Bucky Barnes would be the last person you killed in this life, and you would make sure to enjoy every second of it.

It’s not everyday they pull you from your training program and load you into a transportation vehicle, and you don’t know whether to be scared or excited by the change in routine.

You decide on excitement, because a widow is never. Ever. Scared.

The keepers transporting you all avoid eye contact and you bite back the smirk, knowing that you installed that fear when you bit the thumb off the last guard that tried to touch you inappropriately. You might be hydras toy but you were not a plaything for these half wits.

“Your mission will be in direct partnership with the Winter Soldat.” The agent in front of you explains, watching you load up your widow uniform with hidden weapons “there’s a list of names that needs to be taken care of, and it might take a minute so they are pairing you both. They want no mistakes, only the best.”

“No traces no trails. No chances.” You answer, already having it memorized, biting down on your tongue when you remember the poor girl you left as a witness to your last mission.

Hydra never found out, but her scared scream when she caught you killing her father will haunt you.

You wondered if you might have had someone to scream over at one point.

“He won’t speak to you so don’t bother.” The agent grunts as the vehicle comes to a stop and he slams his fist on the side to let them know it’s safe to open the doors.

They all cast you another look as you try not to roll your eyes at the drama. If you truly wanted out of this vehicle you could slaughter them all, you just knew that hydra would track you down no matter what so what was the point?

They lead you down hundreds of gray halls, each getting darker than the last and the smell of mold and desperation heightened with each step. Finally at the very last cell door they all raise their weapons and slide it open, muttering something in Russian before a figure emerges.

The glint of his arm catches on the shit light above you first, and then he is there, glowering and confused in the same go.

“Soldat. This is the widow.” His mentor speaks in Russian, gesturing to you which makes the soldier give you one look. That’s it. One brief look of disdain and he goes back to looking at the mentor like you weren’t even there.

This mission is going to go well.

“You’re making progress Bucky.” Dr. Raynor hums, her eyes glinting as she watches him over the pad of paper she hasn’t scribbled on in the past hour. He likes to think that it’s a good sign, but he also tries not to get into his own head about it. “But I’d like to go a little deeper if you’ll let me.”

“Don’t really have a choice doc.” He mutters, but his tone lacks the usual bite.

“Funny. Have you slept in a bed recently?”

“I’ve made it to at least 3 hours of sleep in my bed.” He nods, not mentioning he thought the laundry detergent smelled like your shampoo.

“You bought any home decorations? Anything at all?”

“There’s a welcome mat by the front door.”

“Inside or outside?”

“…..inside.” He wasn’t brave enough to put it out in the hall yet.

“I just want a house that has a welcome mat and that cookie smell. Something to call home.” Those were your words, whispered to him the night before the soldier…..

“Tell me what you have been up to lately.”

“Lunches with Yori….missions with Sam…. And I’ve been…. Trying to find someone.”

“Someone from your time as the soldier?”

“Yes.” His throat is tight and he might throw up.

“For revenge?”

“No…. Well she might want revenge…… I just want her.” He admits.

Dr. Raynors eyebrows shoot up, and she tries to keep neutral as she asks the next question. “The viper then?”

“She didn’t like that name.”

“How did she get it?”

“Me.”

“And what did you call her if she didn’t like the name?”

“Flower.”

I don't start it but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

The roof of the bagel shop on the stupid block you were on was probably the worst spot to be.

Best, if you’re focusing on the fact that it’s the perfect hideout for the sniper gun you are aiming and the fact that you’re able to lay at a slant so your legs don’t falls asleep while you focus.

Terrible for the fact that you could smell the pizza shop next door perfectly, and your stomach was beginning to rumble in hunger.

But you had to focus, your target was supposed to be in his apartment right now, Viktor Aubrel, the man that sold you in the first place.

Your intel told you he should have been home an hour ago and yet you were still waiting in the winter air that sent a shiver up your spine, too focused on the aim to realize the two figures now on the roof.

“Are the widows that oblivious now?” A deep voice laughs causing you to whirl, knife out as you spot none other than the winter soldier and the new captain america, both watching you.

It was the captain that taunted you, a sneer making its way into your lips as you prepare yourself to launch. The winter soldier extends a hand out, blocking the captain with a skeptical look.

“Sam. A little forewarning, she doesn’t fight like the others.” He mumbles and you all but hiss, not giving either of them a moment before you’re launching at them.

They track your movements well, both standing to fight as you run across the roof, jumping up on the ledge to give you the upper advantage and launch yourself at them. Starting with the easier target, the man with the shield. Wrapping your arms around his neck and spinning your body until you have his weight thrown in the air. He manages to catch himself standing but you’re ahead of the game, jumping so your feet are planted on his chest and shoving him off the roof right as the winter soldier gets to you.

“I don’t want to do this.” He mutters and you hiss again, lunging with a knife out, slashing expertly over and over as he dodges as much as he can. “You don’t need to do this.”

The knife catches in the elbow of his metal arm and his flesh hand comes up to grab your wrist so you twist, kicking his knee down and flick another knife from your uniform.

“I want to.” You mutter in Russian, voice dripping with disdain as you raise the knife and bring it down. Only to get blasted across the roof.

The air leaves your lungs as you skid across the concrete of the roof, splayed out staring at the sky and blinking away the pain.

“She’s quicker than the rest.” Captain America huffs, helping the soldier up.

“A lethal experiment. Taking a trained widow and injecting her with mutated blood of some guy named Logan Howlett.”

“Where does the viper come from?”

“Her knives are all laced with venom and poisons. One touch to your skin and it doesn’t matter if it was a fatal wound or not. You’re out.” You hear them both approach, pretending to be passed out before they get close enough and you can kick the soldier in the stomach. He catches your foot, twisting so your body would have to twist with it or break, but you’re already pulling out a knife and launching it at the other.

A shout of warning leaves the soldier's lips as the knife nearly gets his partner's thigh, you take this weakness and twist until you are wrapped around him and launching you both across the roof. But he is already working his way out, twisting so you slam into the roof once more, his metal arm on your throat holding you down as you claw at it.

Panic attacks your body, scratching at the metal as the captain comes into view.

“Stop. We can help you.” The man sighs.

“Y/n.” The soldier mumbles, eyes pleading. “Let us help-“

Your foot bends to smash into his jaw and send him sprawling back.

“That’s. Not. My. Name.” Your voice is scratchy from the choking and it hurts to talk, but you don’t have time since you’re already dashing to clear the roof.

But the captain throws his shield and hits your ankle sending you falling until Bucky catches you and twists you with his metal arm so your back was to his chest and he can hold you.

“It is. You told me so yourself. Remember?”

“I wanna see my life before all this. I want to see my family and tell them I’m alive. My name was y/n. I found my file and I just-“

You were disgusted that you ever told him such things.

“LET GO!”

“We can help with your list.” It’s the caption saying this, his face holding pity. “We can’t kill but we can help take them down. If you’re willing.”

“They all deserve to die!” The one holding you counted in that.

“I’m not arguing that. But I am setting boundaries. Justice by more death is not the way to do this.” The man tries to ease, attempting a smile. “I’m Sam. You already know Buck-“

“Let me go!”

“We’re proposing a partnership. We help you take them down, get them arrested and you don’t kill any of them.”

“Right. And I get thrown in a cell right after I’m assuming.” You sneer, trying not to focus on the scent of hazel and coffee coating your senses from the soldier.

“You will be pardoned. You had no choice back then and we are giving you one now. Pardoned.”

“And what do you mean by taking them down?” What choice did you have?

It had been a week with the soldier when he finally showed a small amount of emotion. Insane.

You had been huddled in the corner of the abandoned hotel you made camp in, keeping close to yourself for warmth as he pretended to sleep by the wall. You knew he wasn’t actually asleep, not trusting enough to do so. And you don’t know when he does get sleep, all you know is you fight to the last possible moment your eyelids can stay open and you don’t sleep long.

The exhaustion and the cold were beginning to wear you down, a week in and you had yet to kill a single person on this list because the Soldat refused to listen to how you can manage it. With him it’s all silent and watching, your missions were usually more lively. You wore disguises and set traps. Hydra liked sending messages and it’s what you did.

They want a quick and efficient widow? They send Belova. They want a widow that draws attention to their dangers? A prize possession? They send you.

Which is why this entire mission is so weird. Why send you if- before you can finish your thought you are being pelted with a warm jacket, the Soldat glaring at you.

“Your teeth chattering is keeping me up.” He mutters in Russian, sitting up and checking all his weapons.

“As if you sleep.” You reply back in Russian, rolling your eyes. His eyes flick to you in surprise for just a second before he trains them again, watching the window in the opposite corner. “What’s your name?”

“Soldat.”

“What’s your real name?”

“I….. should the viper be asking questions?” He snaps, glaring once more before you roll your eyes and stand up. He watches your every move as you toss his jacket back and cross the room. “Where are you going?”

“To be a viper.” You sneer back, enjoying the way the Russian makes the words bite out more.

He stands up quickly when you move to climb out the window but you send him a glare and descend quickly, making sure he does not follow.

When you get back three hours later, he is standing in the center of the room with his arms crossed and a glare on his features.

You simply walk past him to grab your list, crossing off the first name. “Can we get an actual hotel this time? I need to shower some of this blood off.”

As you move to walk past him his arm shoots out to grab you, pain erupting as he bends your neck to look at him. You would allow this, because is his anger is on you then he won’t look into the 2 little children you helped vanish tonight after you killed their father.

“You do not make moves without me. Understood?”

“Yes Soldat.” You try to nod before he lets go.

“Viper.” He hisses. And you would allow it, because if anyone knew what you had done you would be killed.

The three of you ended up in a warehouse not too far away from the roof you had been scouting on, bucky carrying your bag of weapons on his shoulder as he tried not to look at you while Sam paced back and forth.

You sat on a fallen beam, seeming bored and uninterested as you picked at your nails. But Bucky knew that was your game, to let the world think you were a valid assassin with little to no care.

But he knew you cared, he knew how much effort you had put into saving kids back then. You had always been so warm without even realizing it.

But maybe that all changed, after it….. all happened he hadn’t heard about you again and after he was freed by Steve he couldn't seem to find any of the children you had saved.

“What happened to them?” He finds himself asking, his chest pinching at the sight of you. His flower. But that look in your eyes, the betrayal and anger…..

“The first three on my list? I dumped their bodies in the river.” You smile, turning your glare to Sam. “How about that pardon now?”

“The kids. The ones that you-“ you stand before he can finish his sentence , both him and Sam preparing for a fight as you seem to try and ease yourself.

“What kids?” Sam snaps, anger and protectiveness rolling off of him. “Did you hurt-“

“No. She used to smuggle them out.” Bucky explains. “When she got missions if there was a kid in the family she would pretend to kill them, and help the kid out.”

“I thought hydra confirmed kills by bodies.”

“Not when you’re the best.” You smile, that vapid venomous smile that made Bucky's stomach churn. “And Soldat is right. I used to smuggle the kids out.”

His chest hurts at the name you use, but he assumes that it’s fair. “Where are they now?”

He wants you to look at him, to tell him they are all safe and that he didn’t ruin everything. But you keep your eyes trained away, pain flashing through your features as you explain. “After you…. Told them….. they got the names and locations from me and sent out the shadow widow.”

“Kaltain Amerie.” Sam nods, recognizing the name. She was married to a fancy rich guy now, had been the one Yelena found.

“She took care of what I couldn’t. She did the job.” You nod, hands fisting at your sides as the words clang into Bucky. “And I was punished for my failure.”

“And the missions you got after they caught you?” Sam asks, casting a brief look to bucky at the word caught.

“I had a partner, and they always made sure I did my job.” Fuck.

He was going to puke, how many kids had…..

“You mentioned an alliance. Not an interrogation.” You snap, obviously uncomfortable. “And if you want to revoke my pardon because of-“

“I don’t.” Sam says gently, nodding. “And I’m sorry that it happened.”

“I’m not.” It was a lie and Bucky could taste it. Anything to keep both of them away, that wall you built up when he first met you.

“Okay. The name on your list. Let’s talk about how to get him.” Bucky changes direction, wanting to get you to ease again, not liking the pain in your eyes.

You continue to avoid looking in his direction, and he continues to stare at only you.

She needed cold hard proof so I gave her some

She had the envelope, where you think she got it from?

Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride

Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife

And she looks so pretty

Driving in your Benz

Lately she's been dressing for revenge

It’s a month into the mission when the Soldat tells you his name.

Gone were the days of sleeping on opposite sides of the room, now you both shared a bed. Gone were the days of him not sleeping, and he was now the one that fell asleep first.

Tonight being one of those nights, with you sitting against the headboard of the hotel bed, his forehead pressed into your thigh as he falls asleep slowly, letting you play with his hair as you review footage of your next name. The third on the list.

“My name….” He mutters, this time in English which still shocks you everytime he does. “It’s Bucky.”

“Bucky?” It tastes like vanilla on your tongue, your chest lightening as you whisper it a couple more times. “I like it.”

“What’s yours?”

“My file…. My file says Y/n.” You whisper back and he tilts his head up to look at you.

“You don’t seem to like it.”

“I….. it just doesn’t feel real.” You admit. “It feels wrong for me to use it.”

“I think it’s a wonderful name. It suits you well but… I think you’re my flower.” He murmurs back, moving to press his forehead into your thigh once more and finally lets sleep claim him.

The next morning you both work in tandem, cleaning weapons, he gives you time to make sure that your knives are still potent with venom as you try to come up with a plan to get the 5 year old girl out of the country without the soldier knowing.

But the betrayal of it hurts your chest, watching him work around you as a smooth unit. A team. That’s what you had become.

“Ready?” He asks in Russian, coming up to fix the hair that had fallen out of your braid, using his flesh hand to push it behind your ear as his thumb traces your jaw.

“Always. You?”

“With you my little flower? Always.”

It was ironic the way you and the Soldat still worked in tandem, moving with an effortless grace.

Sam, the captain, watches with wide eyes as you both move around each other.

“Do we have-“

“Yes we have enough intel.” You snap, closing the camera footage the second you spot the young boy running down the hall of the mansion when both him and his mom get home. The pain in your chest could be blamed on the image, and or the stupid soldier standing too close to you. “I can smell your breath.”

“He ate a cheeseburger for lunch again?” Sam chuckles and you stand straight, giving him wide eyes as the Soldat rolls his own. “You know you can’t get in trouble for calling him an idiot, right?”

“I’m aware.” Your words come out clipped and you try not to shudder at the way Sam snickers, catching your lie.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Call Barnes a dumbass.”

“I won’t speak to the Soldat.” You reply, moving to clean your knives.

“Oh come on. Try it. It helps me..” sam laughs, sitting across from you at the kitchen counter as the Soldat shuffles closer to help you clean the knives. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him.

“You….. are a dumbass.” You squeak out, not looking at him. You hear him snort behind you and he reaches across to grab another knife. You roll your eyes at the way he presses his body next to yours.

“That was lame. Try again.” Sam laughs.

“Fine. You’re a DUMBASS!” You snap out, watching both their eyes widen before laughs break out and they start cracking up.

You feel your stiff spine loosen a little, the anxiety easing as you start laughing as well, all three of you cackling. His flesh hand finds its way to your lower back to keep you stable as you both drop the knives to laugh. And finally, after three weeks of working with them you drop the angry front, and give in to their warmth even though everything in you screams to not fall for it.

“Is this….. proper mission food?” You ask from the spot you had taken at the window, watching Bucky and Sam come in with pizza boxes and beer in their hands, both laughing at each other .

Bucky had, sort of tripped up on the stairs which sent Sam in a spiral of making fun of him, but the second they laid eyes on you that humor fell out the window, both going quiet.

“You don’t think pizza and beer are good?” Sam asks, offended. “This is the best combo.”

“Is it…. Allowed?” You ask again and Bucky feels that pang in his chest before he passes the box to you and opens it smoothly.

“You get the first slice pick.” He offers and Sam gasps at the counter.

“That….. oh that’s just cruel to me.”

“It’s an honor to pick the first slice then?” You quirk your eyebrow, humor written on your face, the spark in your eyes setting him on fire. “This is a New York custom?”

“Oh indeed.” He smiles, pushing the box closer to you. “It would be a great dishonor to refuse this.”

There is a second of discomfort, he watches you contemplate it before you reach for a slice, grabbing the largest slice and raising your eyebrows as you wait to see their reactions.

“Perfect choice!” Sam grunts, reaching around you to grab another slice.

“I was going to choose that one.” Bucky smiles, watching you bite it immediately then stick out your tongue at him before taking up a spot on the couch as both of them find their own seats in the living room. You seem tense still, obviously not used to this sort of freedom anymore and his lungs constrict at the thought that this was caused by him.

Back then you had been so… warm and open. Even as an agent you melted the ice exterior the soldier had around him. And through the muddled haze of his memory every memory attached to you was always crystal clear, like a flame in the fog.

“So…. you guys knew each other back when he was the Winter Soldier?” Sam asks, popping the lid off of a beer with ease, he leans forward on his knees and pretends to be more interested in the pizza box. Making it seem like he was an open book, a comforting thing.

“Yeah, we had a long list of enemies that they wanted us to deal with.” You answer, looking to the window rather than either of them.

“It seems like it went wrong…”

“It went fine.” Bucky is quick to snap.

“It was fine. We made it through half the list, before Hydra had to get involved.” You snap as well moving to set the rest of your slice on the plate left on the table for you. “I made a mistake.”

“It wasn’t-” Bucky goes to argue, chest tight.

“I let emotions muddle my task.” You explain to Sam. “I got too attached and ruined it. And then I got caught smuggling the kids out- I was further reported for my behavior and handled accordingly.”

“Hey, this isn’t Hydra.” Sam tries to ease you. “I think what you did was very noble and-”

“All I did was give kids hope where it didn’t belong.” You sneer. “I will never allow myself that weakness again.”

You cast Bucky a glare, his palms sweating and chest blistering as he watches you disappear into the bathroom and the shower running a second later.

Sam continues watching Bucky, eyebrows pinched together. “You reported it?”

“I… as much as I broke away at that time I was still under the soldiers spell.” Bucky admits, gulping down half the beer in his hand. “I…. I had sent in a mission report. Well I had to send it in and I had caught her plan a little bit before that.”

“I’m sorry that happened, Buck.”

“I am too.” He sighs. “I got rewarded and she… well they broke her.”

She don't start it, but she can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

She don't dress for friends

Lately she's been dressing for revenge

“You need to be careful in the upper levels.” He warns, keeping his flesh hand on the small of your back as you both move to start scaling the side of the house.

“I know.” You growl out, keeping your voice low as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. “Don’t be a worry wart.”

“Stick to my side.”

“The job is quicker if I take care of the kids.” You mumble, leaning up to kiss his cheek lightly, the closest you had ever gotten to actually kissing him, no matter how much you wanted to. Three months with him and you were hopelessly in love.

“Fine.” He grunts out, his Russian sharp. He nods once before moving to his starting point, checking that you had begun scaling the wall to the kids room before heading in to handle the parents. But you had been so caught up in Bucky that you didn’t check to make sure both the children were asleep.

The girl screamed first, followed by the boy and you began rushing to ease their worries, kneeling by them and trying to swipe the tears away. “No no. Easy my little ones. It’s okay. I just need you to listen-”

But the boy screams again, this time at something behind you which makes you whirl to find Bucky in the frame of the door, watching intently with blood on his arm.

“No! Please!” You beg, up on your feet and shoving yourself in front of the children as he cocks his head to the side. “Please.”

“Move.” He orders, raising his gun. It seems he’s already assessed the weakness and was willing to handle the problem. “Now.”

“No!” You hadn’t even realized that tears were falling down your face until you could taste the salt, moving forward to grab his gun. “Please!”

“The mission-”

“They are children.” Both of you were speaking Russian, which seemed to be scaring the kids even more as they wailed, and you turned to ease them again. They dash into your arms, holding you tight as they sob. You would die before letting anything happen to them.

When you turn to see him again you see that he has lowered the gun and is merely staring at you, something sparking in his eyes.

You wait for the blow, but it never comes. Instead he nods his head and moves to pick up the boy. He helps you get them out, aboard a ship and hidden from Hydra. When you make it back to the hotel you pace a bit, waiting for him to finish you off.

But he merely stands in the center of the room, watching you closely.

“I’m sorry.” You sob, hand on your chest as you turn to him finally. “I failed the mission and-”

He moves forward in three easy strides, his hands grasping your jaw to bring you up into a searing kiss, arms wrapping around you tightly as he lifts you off the ground to keep you close. And all anxieties peel away, as he lifts his hand to undo your suit. Giving yourself to the soldier that night, and once you were done you stay huddled together, whispering your dreams of the past and future.

And for once you felt like…. You were home.

The next morning tensions were gone, and you seemed to have forgotten about the night before. Or at least you were pretending to, and Bucky didn’t know if he should be happy or angry at the fact.

You had combed through all the footage of the target, piling it all into a folder and he had sent the flash drive to the people needed that would be able to get him arrested. And after that had been sent you had sent out another envelope to his wife, with proof of an affair so she would be able to divorce him.

And just like that another name was taken off your list, and Bucky tried not to feel the pressure at the fact that he was sure you would be gone the second the list was done. And he wouldn’t have an excuse to see you anymore.

He’s lucky Sam went along with this plan in the first place.

“Where is Sam?” You ask from your spot at the counter, legs crossed as you play with one of your knives, watching him closely where he sits on the couch.

“He went to go check on his sister and her kids.” He answers, looking up to you. “They are really close.”

“That’s nice.” You hum, dropping the knife out of boredom. “What comes next?”

“You got another name?”

“Are we allowed to start without Sam?” You ask, eyebrows pinching together.

“Yes. We can. Your list?”

“Front pocket of my duffel.” You hum out, something having caught your attention. He reaches for the bag and checks for the list as you shuffle closer to his open laptop. For a second he hears you hesitate, but he had already made it clear that you had access to anything so he nods and lets you look as he finds the paper you wrote the list on.

His eyes skim across the names, landing on the very last name as his heart stops. ‘Bucky Barnes’ , and no matter how many times you blink the name does not disappear. Why did you let him see this? Was this a trap set?

He whirls, only to find you staring at the screen unblinking. “Flower?”

Your head snaps to glare at him as he shuffles closer, shoving your list in his pocket and looking at what had caught your attention. He finds an old sitcom, a scene with a mother curled up with her kids and reading them a bedtime story.

“You never told me why.” He mutters, sitting on the couch with you on the floor staring at the screen again.

“Why what?”

“Why did you risk your life for all those kids?”

“Because they… because no one fought for me back then.” You admit, turning to look at him. “What is this show?”

“Full house. I don’t know, Steve put it on my list.”

“Your list?” You ask and he nods.

“Things to catch up on.” He smiles. “Like the star wars series.”

“The what?” He blinks slowly at your question, purely shocked.

Three hours later you are both sprawled out on the couch, pillows and blankets thrown about with snacks everywhere. Bucky had dragged you out to the store, buying tons of snacks that you had never tried before and before you knew it the apartment cupboards were packed with snacks and you were preparing to see the first star wars.

“Should we… have brought all this to the mission base?”

“The what?” He laughs, leaning forward to snatch a gummy worm from the bag you were holding.

“The… this apartment. Are we allowed to use it for this?”

“It’s my apartment.” He shrugs, and you blink slowly.

“It’s empty though.”

“I have a couch!” He scoffs. “And a tv!”

“No bed, no plushy towels or…. This is your home?” You didn’t know why this upset you. “You live like this?”

You want to kill him. You want to kill him. Why does this matter?

“I have a welcome mat.” He points to the door.

“That’s an ugly welcome mat.”

“Is not.”

“That would scare away any child on halloween.” You snap. “Are you trying to ruin their halloween?”

“No one really comes up here on halloween.” He shrugs again. “Why does it matter?”

“You… you’ve been free! You have been free this whole time and this is how you live and- I…..”

“I had other things to worry about besides Hydra. And John Walker. Tony Stark and the snap and- well I was trying to find you.” He admits.

“You were trying to find me?” Your chest constricts, as you watch him. “You tried to find me?”

“I did but after I was freed it was like they made you completely disappear and I’m assuming it’s because they knew I would start looki-” Before he can finish his sentence his phone rings and he sees Sams name, giving you an apologetic look before picking it up. You take a moment to try and fix yourself, taking deep breaths in. “He WHAT?”

This catches your attention, sitting up to watch him carefully as he stands. “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up and nods. “I gotta go help Sam. Stay here and-”

“I’m coming with you.” You snap, moving to grab your duffel.

“No, we have a situation with John Walker and I need to-”

“I am coming.” And just like that you grab your suit, giving him your best glare as he shakes his head. “You both are helping me. The least I can do is help you.”

“You don’t have to.” He mumbles.

“But I will. Let’s go.”

Ladies always rise above

Ladies know what people want

Someone sweet and kind and fun

The lady simply had enough

“Thank you.” You whisper, keeping your head on his chest as you trace patterns along his skin. “Thank you for helping.”

“If you got away what would you do?”

“Me? I….. I would find the kids and make sure they made it. I would buy a house and get a cheesy welcome mat for it. I would decorate for halloween and….. And I would adopt a kid and-” You could taste the freedom, imagine it right there. A happy life.

“That sounds… amazing, flower.”

You lift your head, smiling softly as you lean up to kiss him, and he smiles back before moving to kiss you back.

You feel him stiffen before sitting up quickly and reaching for his knife. “Bucky?”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I’m so sorry.”

Before you can realize the door is blown open and agents rush in to grab you.

“Oh…. oh I like this duo.” John Walker smiles, watching you stand slightly behind Bucky with your arms crossed. He doesn’t say a word and neither do you, both giving him a good glare. The Winter Soldier and The Viper. “I hadn’t realized that Bucko boy came with his very own sidekick.”

“этот идиот знает, что от него пахнет рыбой?” (does this imbecile know he smells of fish?) You ask, sneering a bit and taking a step closer to Bucky. “и так небрежно использовать свое имя. Я могу сломать этого человека за считанные минуты.” (and to use your first name so casually. I can break this man within minutes.)

“Я с нетерпением жду этого. Еще я очень голоден, мармеладных червячков мне не хватило, чтобы поесть..” (I look forward to it. I'm also very hungry, gummy worms were not a sufficient meal)

You nod, trying not to smile as he gives you a look over his shoulder while Walker shuffles uncomfortably on his feet. “Shouldn’t we all speak english?”

“Maybe.” Sam shrugs. “But I find it’s easier to let these two do their thing. You said something about a raid?”

“There is a train heading down south here in 30 minutes and I know for a fact that there are rebels planning on stealing what’s on it.”

“What’s so important about what’s on the train?” Bucky asks, casting a look towards you and you see him catalog each and every one of your weapons just as he always used to do as the soldat. You give him a glare and he shrugs.

“Weapons.” John mutters. “And if we can intercept the rebels then-”

“You get your job back?” Sam snides. John stutters for a second and you snort, enjoying the panic on his face. He glares at you, preparing to say something as you step forward to grab one of your knives. You had no clue who this man was but it was easy to know that he was not an ally.

“Get your-”

“She’s not a dog.” Sam snaps, as Bucky sneers. “We’ll help, but on our terms. No one gets hurt and no one gets pummeled without cause.”

“Fine. Let’s see what you guys can do.” John sneers at you both, and Bucky sends you an easy smile over his shoulder as you smile back.

“Устроить им ад?” (Give them hell?)

“следую твоему примеру, Барнс.” (Following your lead, Barnes) You smile back, both of you swiveling to Sam and moving together.

You stand with him on a bridge, keeping a hand on his arm to stabilize yourself as you keep an eye on the ledge, fixing the comm in your ear with your other hand as he does the same.

“I….. I never wanted to betray you.” He blurts, as John tries to convince Sam to give him one of their comms, his argument of ‘I’m part of the team!’ almost making you snort. But Bucky’s words kept your attention as you tried to play it cool. Keeping your eyes trained on the bridge before you.

“Is this a good time to talk about this?” You mutter in Russian, just in case Walker could hear you both like you could hear him.

“It was the status report. They were making me do it every month and….. I fought it. I really tried to fight it.” He admits in russian, casting a look to Walker before turning back to you, his hand shooting out to wrap around your arm as you lean to prepare a landing. “Careful.”

“I thought…. You were…. Nevermind it was my mistake.”

“It wasn’t a mistake.” He snaps, pulling you closer. “It… It was everything to me.”

“I shouldn’t have. I should have kept my eyes on the mission and I ruined it and I ruined it for those kids. You were a weapon dangled before me, they knew I would fall for it. They knew I would fall for the freedom of it. And I’m sure they already knew that I was helping those kids and they just needed to prove-” The words are spilling out and you just can’t seem to stop them, tears beginning to fill your eyes. “I just wanted… I just wanted to help them.”

“You did.” He mumbles, moving until his chest is pressed to your shoulder. “Please look at me.”

“I messed it all up.”

“You didn’t mess anything up-”

“I did. I fell in love.” You finally look at him, tears in your eyes as he takes a deep breath in.

“I-”

“Incoming.” It’s Sam's voice in the comms that makes you both jump before you look to see the train coming.

“On it.” You mumble back in english, stabbing a knife into the brick beneath you as Bucky keeps a hold on your arm.

“Be careful, we’ll be right behind. Keep a knife ready and-”

“I’ve got it.” You laugh, watching the train get closer and closer.

“I just worry.” He admits, leaning forward to kiss your cheek softly. “And just so we are clear, I fell in love too.”

You try not to smile, giving him one last look before using the chord and launching down as you hear Sam count down in the comms, feet landing on the top of the train with a thud before you dive for the top grate and begin working on tearing it off.

You manage to tear it off in time to duck and lay flat as a sign under the bridge appears, managing to avoid it before crouching and climbing in as the train breaks from the bridge, three heavy sets of footprints hit the top of it while you climb across boxes to get to the end of the cart.

“Viper?!” Walker calls, landing in the crate followed by Bucky and Sam. You don’t bother answering, too busy trying to lift the shaft on the cart.

“You good?” Sam asks, coming to your side.

“I’m fine.” You mumble. “I can handle the mission sir-”

“Did you just sir me?” Sam laughs, leaning to help you with the shaft, letting the sunlight break in as the wind snaps in both your faces.

“You guys see anything?” John yells across the way as Bucky hops over a box and reaches you both.

You have just enough time to turn, ready to bite a response to Walker when you spot the bomb taped to the far wall. Your mouth opens in an attempt to yell a warning but it’s too late. It all blasts to shit.

There was nothing but pain as you hung suspended in the cell, the Shadow Widow sneering at you from her spot in the corner while Valkov took a break from torturing you. Your breathing is ragged, blood falling out of your mouth with the saliva as your eyes water.

You can no longer feel your legs, and your fingernails had been torn out first. Sobs racking through your body as he asks the question again, his russian loud.

“WHERE ARE THE LOOSE ENDS?!!”

You couldn’t betray the kids, you couldn’t do it. So when he picked up the drill you closed your eyes, sobbing once more as you try to blink Buckys face out of your memory, succumbing to your punishment.

Heat blasts against his back as you scream out, Sam yelling loudly, all three of you grasping anything you can as the train keeps going.

Bucky’s metal arm finds purchase on a broken handle of the train, trying to pull himself up as Sam grips the side grates of the train trying to activate his falcon wings while you struggle to keep hold of what is left of the floorboard in the train car, nails scraping as you grimace in pain while your legs stay suspended in the air.

“HOLD ON!” He calls, reaching his flesh hand for you before the metal of the door groans and he has to freeze.

Walker appears, bleeding from his ears and looking frazzled as hell, but Bucky breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees the idiot reach to help you. Hope that you would make it out of this mess, that is until John stumbles as he reaches for your hand and ends up making you lose your holding.

You scream out, nails scraping as you slide out, nearly all your body suspended in the air. Both Bucky and Sam scream, reaching for you before they realize they can’t.

“When does this fucking bridge end?” Bucky snaps, looking down to the hundreds of feet below, memories flashing in his mind.

“Language.” Sam grunts, exhaling in relief when he sees you manage to grab the final woodboard, your last chance at holding on.

“Complete the mission.” You snap. “I can get up.”

“We don’t leave each other behind.” Bucky grunts, using his flesh hand to reach for a rope connected to the roof of the train car.

“Hydra tells us we need to complete the missi-”

“This isn’t Hydra and I’m not leaving my girl on this train.” Bucky snaps and Sam whoops out a loud ‘fuck hydra’ as they both struggle to get to the main opening.

There are thuds on top of the train and you risk a look to see multiple hooded figures with bags getting ready to ransack the weapons. A grunt of anger passes through you as let one hand free from the board, much to Bucky's chagrin as he yells out for you before you reach and grab your compact launcher you had hidden in the belt of your suit and shoot the roof with the grappling hook, pulling yourself up right in time for Walker to fall back into the car.

“This manchild is useless.” You sneer, reaching for Bucky immediately, hands grasping his tactical vest and dragging him as much as you can into the train car as Sam struggles to get in as well.

“There are about 15 figures. We should have about 10 minutes before they blow the rest of this train up.” You explain, keeping your hands on his shoulders as you assess him. “Are you hurt?”

“No I’m-”

“I’m hurt!” Walker calls, making you hiss an unappealing word at him in russian before moving to look at Sam.

“Do you want the viper or me on this mission?”

“Viper would be nice.” Sam nods, looking at all the weapons. “Viper for sure.”

You nod, turning to assess Bucky one more time before he nods at you and you both begin working.

While he was doing lines

And crossing all of mine

Someone told his white collar crimes to the FBI

And I don't dress for villains

Or for innocents

I'm on my vigilante shh again

You both work in tandem, every punch he throws shoves the person straight into your kick. You slash your knife at anyone that gets too close to him, slicing their skin easily as he snipes out anyone rushing to the train.

Sam is finding the rest of the bombs, disarming them to the best of his ability.

You hiss in pain when you get hit in the jaw, but Bucky is there smashing the butt of his gun to the back of their head as you blink away the tears. His hand finds your jaw, assessing the damage before turning and nodding to the path you guys need.

“So…. what’s the plan after this?” He asks, huffing as he gets to the slate you had originally been planning on clearing.

“After this? Probably dinner.” You laugh, bending to break the controls. He adjusts himself so you were back to back, him watching to make sure you were good.

“I mean…. After this mission.”

“I….. I want to finish the list.” You answer, tearing out a board to access the rest of the control panel.

“Does that list still include me?” He blurts, making you freeze. When you don’t answer he looks down to see you already staring up at him with wide eyes.

“You saw that?”

“On your list. Highlighted and everything.” He nods, snapping his attention to a thud across the way, finding it empty. It was enough to get you back to work, focusing on the wires and buttons again. “I would understand if you wanted to-”

“I don’t anymore.” You snap. “I don’t think I ever would have been able to but it’s not like I planned to make it far after I got out. I didn’t have a plan. Everyone else had a plan and I was left! I was tortured and maimed for wanting that freedom, and when the time came I was the only one that had nothing to live for.”

You were seething, and he could only agree. He hated the other widows for what they did to you, that would never be forgiven.

“I wanted a family. That’s all I wanted.” You whisper, finally breaking the right chord. The lights immediately die out and the train lurches as it comes to a complete stop.

“Is that still what you want?” He whispers back, holding his hand out for you to grab and help you up.

“I don’t deserve it.”

“You are the only person in this entire universe that deserves that.” He snaps. “And it’s important to me that you know that.”

“It’s not like I have much of a future open.”

“Well I think you have a bit of a future in the vigilante game if you ask me.” He smiles.

I don't start it, but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

“I’m sorry, you used to what?!” Sarah laughs, coming around the kitchen counter to grab a bottle of soda from your hand, eyes wide. “Dip your knives in lethal poison.”

“It made things easier. Even if I didn’t hit a vital organ I still knew the job was done.” You explain, shrugging a bit as she laughs. You still got nervous when talking about your past, but Sarah seemed anything but judgemental.

Sam's sister ended up being your very best friend on this earth, which surprised you to no end. You loved her kids and you loved her. You especially loved girls night because you never thought this would be an option in general. Nonetheless you had friends now. You had a home, with a silly little welcome mat that was left on the porch for the trick or treaters every year.

The very same one that was getting trampled on every time Sarahs kids ran through with your adopted children, covered in mud and laughing loudly.

“Hey! Mind your mess!” She snaps out but you can’t stop smiling as you watch your adopted 4 year old chase after one of her sons.

“What are you up to?” Bucky asks, coming in from the garage with Sam and Joaquin smiling from ear to ear as he rushes to kiss at your jaw.

“We are getting ready.” You laugh, shooing him away.

“For?”

“The Eras movie. You have daughters now Barnes. You need to get with the program.” Sarah scoffs playfully, making her brother laugh as they pick up the snacks and head to the living room.

“Hey…. I just wanted to say thank you for your help on the mission the other day.” Torres smiles before following the rest into the living room leaving you with Bucky.

“Hear that? Vigilante shit right there.” You laugh, leaning forward to kiss him.

“Still waiting for you to kill me.” He whispers against your lips, winking before heading to catch your daughter as she tries to dash past, making her laugh loudly and reach for you.

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ryloriee678999 · 2 years

Text

I’m To Blame (Pt 2)

Summary: You end up in the hospital after crashing your car. Wanda deals with the consequences. (1000 words)

Warnings: Suicide attempt, unhappy ending, angst, injury.

A/N: This is ass ngl hope you enjoy. Yato and Lauren <3 for always helping.

The moment you left, Wanda regretted it immediately. She stood in the dark living room until she heard the sound of your car starting. Dread overtook her body when Wanda realized she was truly alone. The house that was once filled with her two loves was now empty.

Slowly she made her way up to her room and fell down on the bed. The witch balled up the blanket and held it to her chest, pretending it was you and Natasha. Her body started to shake uncontrollably as she cried on the sheets.

Meanwhile, You just got onto the highway. You wiped the tears from your eyes to see the road better. The heavy feeling in your chest hurt but you didn't have to deal with it for long. The conversation repeated in your head. Out of all the things she could say, she told you that you’re to blame. She acted like nothing happened, like your pain wasn't real.

Her words were an incentive for you to speed your car up and head towards a forest. It’s okay, you reminded yourself then turned off the main road.

Hours later, Wanda gets the phone call.

You passed out in fear right before the car crashed only to wake up in a hospital room. The first thing you feel is pain, there's no major injuries, only soreness and broken bones. Then you realized you survived, you felt mortified because you were still here to deal with everything.

When the doctor came to check on you, you blatantly lied to him about what happened. They thankfully believed you and passed it off as an accident. You must've been asleep for a long time, because when you look at the clock, it's 4am.

You can't sleep, due to the pain and shock so you scroll through your phone. The last thing you expected was to hear Wanda's voice outside of your room.

She glanced at you nervously while the doctor explained your injuries, her expression showing distraught. When the man was done, Wanda hesitated to walk in, she wasn’t sure if she should even be here. She might make things worse but selfishly, Wanda had to feel and speak to you, but apologize more than anything.

You watched as she walked beside you. You could tell she’s been crying but all that was in the background, right now she looks terrified while you show no signs of emotion.

“Baby…” she started. Her eyes wandered across your damaged body before looking down at her hands. She fidgeted nervously, you noticed how Wanda's nails were bitten almost to her nail beds. “If- If I knew you’d be in an accident I wouldn't have let you go. The doctors said you could have died If the tree hit the other side– And I don't know what I would have done, baby, I can't–”

You hate the way this was the first time in almost a year she’s shown any other emotion than anger towards you. She continues to ramble and cry before you quietly interrupt, “It wasn't an accident, Wanda.”

“What?” She stops completely and looks up at you. She heard you clearly but was so confused, of course it was an accident. The snow on the roads caused you to swerve. She repeated what the doctors had said all the way here, there was no way they could be wrong.

“It wasn't an accident,” you repeated, louder this time. “After our fight, I didn't know where else to go. You were– are angry with me and I just couldn’t take it.” You didn't know if you should have kept going, you didn't even know if you could. Wanda caught on to what you were saying, her stomach flipped at the realization.

Wanda shook her head, “What are you saying? No, the doctors said, they said it was an accident. You almost died, it was an accident.” She stopped when she felt a wave of nausea, she would’ve denied it more but she could.

“I wanted to kill myself,” you said. You could feel your eyes start to burn again at the topic. You were still angry at Wanda but it went away once she started crying. No matter how mad you were at her, you still felt terrible every time she cried. “Don't feel bad, It’s not your fault. It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“Stop saying that!” She yells through sobs. “It’s not okay, if I didn't say those things and then kick you out of our house, none of this would’ve happened.” The anger she felt towards herself was the same anger you felt when you let Natasha die. “I love you so much. I’m sorry for what I said, I know I can't take it back but I can't lose you.”

You wanted to forgive her but you couldn't. “You have done nothing, you pretend nothing happened, you won't even say Natasha's name.” You sit up angrily, “everyone blames me for Natasha's death, I can't believe you would too.”

Wanda hated the way she lost herself. After fighting Thanos it was like she was an entirely different person. She couldn't believe she lost Natasha, it was a huge change that neither of you were ready for. But while you were struggling, Wanda went on as if nothing happened, she blocked everything out, even you. Blaming you was wrong, but that's all she could say.

“If I reacted, then it would all become too real. I avoided you when I should have dealt with it. I just miss her so much,” she admitted. “I don't want to lose you too.”

“I miss Natasha too,” you say. “But that’s not your decision to make Wanda.”

Before Wanda could react, you heard someone walk in. “Would you like me to bring a cot in for your wife to sleep on? Visiting hours are over,” A nurse asked, interrupting the two of you. Wanda calms down almost instantly, and you wipe your tears away as if nothing happened.

“No, I think I should be alone tonight,” you say with a smile. Once she leaves, Wanda stands up to grip the side of your bed.

“Love, please I need you, I can't leave you again,” she practically begs. Her face almost looked hysteric. “пожалуйста я не могу без тебя”

“Wanda, go,” you say tiredly. She stares at you for a second, waiting for you to change your mind or at least forgive her.

You say nothing else and neither does she, an uncomfortable silence fills the room. You avoid looking at her, but you could only imagine the look on her face right now. To your surprise she doesn't fight anymore. No matter what she says or how many times she apologizes, she already lost you. It’s almost like you actually died. So she stands up carefully and slowly walks out.

You practically forced her to go, but somehow it hurts now that she's the one leaving.

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unabashegirl · 6 months

Text

Enticing 32 (HS)

Summary: Harry is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?

work count: 1.7K

ALL ENTICING CHAPTERS

The city lights twinkled like distant stars as Harry made his way through the rain-soaked streets. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, a storm of memories and uncertainties. The encounter with Y/N had stirred up feelings he thought he had buried deep within him, but now they resurfaced with an intensity that was impossible to ignore.

As he walked, the rhythm of the raindrops seemed to echo the beat of his heart. He couldn't shake the image of Y/N from his mind—the way she had looked at him, her voice trembling with emotions unspoken. Harry's steps grew slower as he navigated the familiar paths of the city, lost in thought.

Back at his apartment, the solitude felt suffocating. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, hoping it would help calm the storm within him. But the amber liquid did little to quell the turmoil that raged beneath the surface. He paced the living room, his mind replaying the conversation with Y/N over and over.

The memory of their shared moments—the laughter, the whispered confessions, the stolen glances—flooded his mind. He had tried to move forward, to build a life for himself and his son, but Y/N's reappearance had shattered the fragile walls he had erected around his heart.

The next day, as the sun rose over the city, Harry found himself standing in front of a mirror, adjusting his tie. He was preparing for the meeting with Y/N, a mixture of anticipation and nerves churning within him. He hadn't been able to sleep much the night before, his mind consumed by thoughts of what their meeting would bring.

He left the apartment with a sense of purpose, the memories of his past and the possibilities of his future warring within him. As he entered the bustling city streets, he felt a surge of determination. He had a son to care for, a company to run, and now, a chance to reconnect with the woman who had once meant everything to him.

Arriving at the office building, Harry took a deep breath before stepping inside. The receptionist greeted him warmly, and he made his way to the elevator with a mixture of nerves and excitement. He couldn't shake the feeling that this meeting was a turning point—a chance to mend what had been broken.

Y/N's assistant, Sarah, greeted him as he entered the office. Her warm smile was a stark contrast to the tension that seemed to hang in the air. Harry followed her to a conference room, his heart pounding as he anticipated Y/N's arrival.

Minutes later, the door opened, and Y/N walked in. Her presence filled the room, her eyes meeting Harry's as a mixture of emotions flickered across her face. There was a moment of hesitation, a silence that spoke volumes, before they both settled into their seats.

The conference room felt heavy with unspoken words as Harry and Y/N faced each other. The past, with all its regrets and missed opportunities, seemed to hang between them like a palpable presence. Harry's mind raced, torn between the memories that flooded back and the reality of the present.

“I'm sorry,” Y/N began, her voice carrying a mix of regret and vulnerability. “Not for leaving, but for how I did it. I know I hurt you.”

Harry studied her, his gaze searching her eyes for any sign of deception. He felt a surge of conflicting emotions—the anger he had buried, the hurt he had masked, and the undeniable affection that still lingered beneath the surface.

His silence prompted Y/N to continue, her words tinged with a sincerity that resonated deep within him. “I've carried the weight of what happened between us all these months. I didn't handle things well, and I've regretted that.”

Harry's jaw tightened as he struggled to contain the storm of emotions within him. The ache of their past was raw and hearing her acknowledge the pain she had caused was both cathartic and unsettling.

“I never stopped caring,” Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not then, and not now.”

Harry's chest tightened at her confession. He had buried his feelings, had pushed aside his desire to reach out to her over the last months. Yet, here she was, echoing the sentiments he had tried to suppress.

Swallowing hard, he leaned forward, his gaze locked on hers. “Y/N, I won't deny that I cared. But we can't change the past.”

She nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “No, we can't.”

The room seemed to pulse with unresolved emotions as they sat in the weight of their shared history.

“I’m clearly pregnant” Y/N said, her voice carrying a mixture of trepidation and determination. She ran her hands over her the small bump.

Harry's heart raced as he waited for her further words, his mind racing with the possibilities of what that could mean. He braced himself for anything, knowing that the path ahead could be just as complicated as the history they shared.

The words hit Harry like a lightning bolt, a mixture of shock, confusion, and something he couldn't quite define coursing through him. He blinked, his mind struggling to process the enormity of her revelation.

Y/N nodded; her gaze unyielding. “Yes, Harry. It's yours.”

The room seemed to spin around him as he grappled with the truth she had just dropped. His mind raced, trying to reconcile the past with the present, the emotions he had buried with the reality that was unfolding before him.

“You can't just drop something like this out of nowhere,” Harry finally managed, his voice strained.

“I know,” Y/N replied, her own voice shaking. “I didn't plan for any of this to happen.”

The tension in the room was palpable, the weight of their shared history now intersecting with a future neither of them had anticipated. Harry's mind raced with questions, doubts, and a strange sense of hope that he dared not fully embrace.

“You expect me to just accept this?” Harry's frustration boiled over, his words sharper than he intended. Harry's voice trembled with a mixture of disbelief and hurt as he stared at Y/N, his emotions raw and unfiltered. “I can't believe you never called me. You never told me about the pregnancy. You hid it from me all this time.”

Y/N's expression wavered between frustration and her own pain. “Harry, you don't understand. I had my reasons.”

“Reasons?” Harry's tone was edged with disappointment, his eyes locked onto hers. “You convinced William, my best friend, to keep it from me too. That's not just a betrayal of our history, Y/N, that's a betrayal of trust.”

Y/N's jaw clenched as she met his gaze, her own frustration bubbling to the surface. “You think this was easy for me? You think I didn't struggle with the decision?”

“Of course, it wasn't easy,” Harry shot back, his voice strained. “But that doesn't excuse keeping something this important from me. We were together once, Y/N. We shared everything.”

“I didn't want to burden you,” Y/N retorted, her voice sharp with anger. “You already have Oliver to worry about.”

Harry's frustration mingled with a sense of helplessness. “And what about me? Did you think about how this would affect me? How would it feel to find out like this?”

“I'm not asking for your pity, Harry,” Y/N snapped, her eyes blazing. “I made a choice, one that I thought was best for me and for the child.”

Harry's resolve stiffened, his voice laced with a mixture of hurt and determination. “I'm willing to take responsibility. But that doesn't mean I have to accept how you handled this. I want a paternity test done.”

Y/N's expression twisted, a combination of disbelief and indignation. “You want a paternity test? You're seriously asking me to prove the parentage of my own child?”

Harry's jaw tightened; his gaze unwavering. “I need to know, Y/N. After everything that's happened, after the way you hid this from me, I need to be sure.”

Tension crackled in the air, their emotions colliding in a storm of hurt and frustration. The unspoken history between them, the choices they had made and the consequences they were now facing, hung between them like an insurmountable barrier.

Y/N's voice quivered as she fought to control her anger. “I can't believe you would doubt me like this.”

“And I can't believe you kept something so important from me,” Harry replied, his voice a mixture of anger and pain. “I need to be certain, Y/N. For my sake and for the child's.”

The room seemed to pulse with the weight of their conflicting emotions. The past, with its shared memories and shattered trust, collided with the present, forcing them to confront their mistakes and the consequences they couldn't ignore. As they stared at each other, the chasm between them felt both impossible to bridge and filled with the potential for healing—if only they could find a way to navigate the treacherous path ahead.

Y/N's eyes welled with tears, her vulnerability laid bare. “I don't expect anything from you, Harry. But I thought you deserved to know.”

As their eyes met, a torrent of emotions swirled between them. The road ahead was uncertain, fraught with challenges and revelations they could no longer ignore. Yet, amid the tension and the pain of their past, there was a glimmer of possibility—a chance to unearth truths, heal wounds, and perhaps forge a new path forward.

In that moment, as the weight of their shared history mingled with the uncertainty of their future, Harry and Y/N realized that sometimes, the hardest conversations were the ones that held the power to transform lives and rekindle a love that had never truly died.

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manias-wordcount · 6 months

Text

Only Girl in the World (Evelynn x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗶 𝗴𝘂𝘆𝘀 𝗶𝗺 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲? 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗺𝘆 𝗾𝘂𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘃 𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗲. 𝗼𝗸 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗴𝘂𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱𝘂𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

It was a couple of dates in when Evelynn told you that she wanted to take you dancing.

Now, you’ve been dancing before. On dates, with friends, by yourself- the whole gauntlet. So you figured you knew how this was going to go. Another club with bright lights and loud music and overpriced drinks that might knock you onto your ass if you smile at the bartender enough. Something and someplace so you could close your eyes, throw your arms around her shoulders, and sway your hips together, pretending that you’re the only two people in the room. If you pregamed enough beforehand, you might not even have to pretend.

But now the night has come and you suddenly don’t find yourself in just another club with bright lights and loud music. Instead, it’s a bar with warm, dim lights and a dance floor. Wood accents and the live music was just quiet enough for people to speak at a somewhat normal volume. And the alcohol here costs a pretty penny, but the bottles are nice and the stock shelf is stock full of liquor you’ve only joked about buying with your friends. It’s hard not to feel underdressed in your tiny little black dress and clunky heels that are clearly the least expensive items here. It’s hard not to feel unprepared when the first thing your date does is feed you a drink that is hard to pronounce yet so easy on the throat.

And it’s hard not to feel out of place when the second she makes you take the floor with her, the room seems to stop.

The chatter feels like it’s nonexistent. The music feels like it’s been silent. The eyes and mouths in the room seemed to have turned their attention to you. And the lights that were so warm yet so dim feel brighter and colder than ever. Because the moment she steps onto the stage with a sway of her hips and a confident look on her gorgeous face, the room just stops. Stops and stares. Stops and gawks. Stops and savors. But most of all? They- the room- everything just stops.

And conveniently so does your heart. And your breathing. And your mind and your everything. Because here you were, thinking it would be a night nice enough to enjoy but quickly forget. Because here you are quickly realizing that as she places one hand on your hip while the other threads between your fingers, it’s about to be a night you’ll never forget.

“Breathe, darling.”

For better.

“Just follow my lead. And I’ll show you a good time, hmm?”

Or for worse.

Still, you find the part of you that’s still desperately into her nodding along meekly as her head dips down by your ear. Her words crawl against your skin. It causes shivers to run up and down your body. And her touch spreads fire to your blood. Red and hot. And you find yourself swallowing down an embarrassing sound. One that you know the entire bar will swallow whole if you’re not careful. One that you know she will devour if you’re not smart. But as she presses against your body, and holds you so tight, you can’t help but wonder if that’s what you want. Because now, you’re almost certain…

“Good girl~”

That’s what you’re going to get.

A second later, you feel like the music has started back up again. Playing a melody that you’ve heard before but never paid attention to. A song that you never thought that would ever be played for you. But you don’t have time to think about that. You don’t have time to dwell on that. You don’t. She doesn’t let you.

Because before you know it, you’re being swept off your feet. She’s moving. You’re moving. The two of you are moving. Walking to the side, she moves with confident steps- feet that know what they’re doing and where they need to go. And you’re left with no choice but to follow. Left with no choice but to gasp you stumble over your own feet in surprise and tot try to keep up as she pulls you along to the rhythm of the music. She flashes you a smile as you try to fall in time with her. But the only look you can give her is full of wide eyes and parted lips that have so many questions to ask.

And not a voice left to ask them with.

She laughs at your expression. A warm, almost sweet laugh. As if you’re more cute to her rather than embarrassing. But you feel a different sort of way. A way that’s confusing. That turns your stomach into knots. A way that has you remembering that there are people all around you. People behind the bar, making the drinks. People on the stage, playing the music. People surrounding the dance floor, speaking life into the room. People surrounding the two of you, sparking fear into yourself.

As yet, it still feels like for some moments- for some mere seconds. Between missteps and wrong moves, you could feel it. You swear you could feel it. The little know the feeling that only get when you swear it’s only you and her in the room. Only you and her in the world. Only you and her that matter. And this time, you didn’t even have to pretend. You didn’t even have to be drunk either. She just existed. And took you along for the ride too.

“You’ve never danced the tango before, have you darling?” She whispered into you between swishes of hips and sharp turns. You’re concentrating very hard as you try to keep up that you almost don’t hear the sultry whisper of her voice. But you manage a clumsy nod complete with warm cheeks and a wrong step in her direction. And she’s back to smiling at you. Back to laughing with you. “I have to say, I’m quite fond of the dance, myself. But...”

Back to looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. And making you believe that you truly, truly are.

“I think might just like you a little bit more~”

#evelynn #evelynn league of legends #evelynn x reader #league of legends #league of legends x reader #league fo legends fanfic #league of legends fanfiction #league #league x reader #league fanfic #league fanfictin #lol #lol x reader #lol fanfiction #lol fanfic #x reader #xreader #fanfic #fanfiction

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cxlxrx · 1 year

Text

"Please", Ghost - Simon - nearly whined. Voice higher than usual, "Touch me."

"What?", Soap nearly choked. His brain wasn't so fast in processing the situation. Simon had Soap's hand covered with his, pressing it against his cheek. "Touch me, Johnny", he said again, his voice sounded breathless, "Hurt me."

or Ghost wants to feel something and Soap helps him.

#my depressed ass finally managed to complete a fanfic #i missed writing #idk if someone will read it 😅#soapghost #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty #fanfictin

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moonchildstyles · 2 years

Note

vamp h taking care of (y/n) when shes sick?:(

Hello! Love your writing and I can honestly say I've read it multiple times. What would Vampire!H do if Y/N gets ill, nothing serious but I'm curious how would he react and how would he take care of her .

can you do a chiaroscuro! harry where y/n is sick with stomach flu and he takes care of her? lots of fluff please 🥺

wordcount: 12.5k+

—————

"You are sure you don't want to come with me, m'love?"

The fresh, bright green of Harry's eyes were clear as they focused on her. A tight furrow pinched his brows in the middle, adding to the concern swimming in his gaze. Despite sitting on the edge of their shared bed, fully dressed for the day with his packed bags sitting by the front door downstairs, he was reluctant to set out on the trip (Y/N) had told him days ago she was opting out of.

She understood where he was coming from, why he was so worried about crossing over to Italy without her by his side—she really did. Traveling without each other was something that never happened anymore, not after that first time she had visited her family and came home to a starving vampire. Not only was that outcome something they avoided a replay of at all costs, but spending time without one another, over oceans and miles apart, hurt and tugged at parts of their soul that hadn't existed before finding one another.

But, (Y/N) was sure her legs would give out if she tried to get out of bed right now.

This month had already been travel heavy, Harry whisking her away to Italy from the jump, stashing her away in their villa for a couple of weeks full of sunbathing and eating the strawberries he had been obsessed with since spring had sprung. (He'd been trying his hand at making crepes, his versions always stuffed full of the sweetest fruits, and—if he was feeling particularly giving that day—chocolate). While it was a relaxing time—(Y/N) spending her time in the sun during the morning hours while Harry worked before retreating back to the villa to spend the rest of the afternoon with her love, exquisite dinners and sweet wines always on the agenda—traveling was still traveling and it exhausted her to a degree. On the flight home even, as she was pressed into Harry's cool side, his fingers dipping through her hair and arranging the strands soothingly, he had shared with her that a trip to France was slated at the end of the month—only a little less than two weeks away—to take a look at a chateau he'd had his eye on. Another home he wanted to make for her, he had said.

Then, in the middle of it all, he told her, only days after returning home, that he needed to head back to Italy for the weekend for a consultation with a client who was interested in procuring a specific collection of Titian paintings. If not for the high price point and the unwillingness from the collector to speak to anyone that wasn't the reclusive Mr. Styles himself, in person, Harry wouldn't have even agreed to the meeting. But, he was insistent on this meeting being a one time thing with a single offer before he was out the door and resuming his time with (Y/N).

Normally, she would have been more than happy to accompany him on this trip. Harry always told her he made better deals with his brokering business when she was close by, not to mention the fact she was his muse for his own art that only increased in value with every exhibition he relented in joining. But, hearing his proposal when she still hadn't even properly washed her hair yet in her own bathroom, made her exhausted just thinking about getting on another plane. Even if it was a private jet.

That's how she found herself bundled in their shared bed, Harry hovering over her with a hint of pleading in his gaze as he stroked her hair out of her face. He was set to be on the tarmac, boarding the jet, in a little more than an hour, but he hadn't made any move to leave despite the ticking clock the second he noticed (Y/N) was awake.

"I'm sure, H, really," she murmured, voice soft from sleep. While she was happy to be able to see him off, being awoken before her body's natural alarm had sparked the beginnings of a headache behind her eyes, urging (Y/N) to get back to bed the second she could.

A heavy sigh was exhaled through Harry's nose as his lips fell into a hard line. His gaze flitted over her face and down her neck as if he were taking stock of each of her features, an inventory sheet budding in his head that he was going to match to what he found when he came home in a few days. "I hate leaving you. I spent centuries without you already, how am I supposed to go without y'once more?"

(Y/N)'s mouth ticked at the corners at the melodrama in his voice. He was like this even if she decided to spend her afternoon in the library instead of keeping him company as he baked in the kitchen. "You're going to be fine, H. You can call me whenever, and I'll be waiting right here for you when you get home," she told him, words a soft whisper shared in the dark of their bedroom, "Try to sleep some if it gets too hard—it'll make the time go by faster. I know that's what I'll be doing."

Though the furrow of his brow never lessened, his lips tugged into a pout as his gaze dropped to the steady pulse in her neck. "Are you going to dream of me?"

Taking her arm out from under the warm confines of the blankets surrounding her form, (Y/N) grabbed at the cool hand now cradling the side of her neck. In lazy motions, she brought the inside of his wrist to her lips where she pressed a warm kiss to where she should have felt a gentle pulse. "I always do, you know that."

The corners of his mouth quirked despite his best efforts at keeping his contentment at bay, the pinch in his brow loosening with the beginnings of his dimples denting into his cheeks. "Pleasant dreams, right? Never a nightmare?" he prompted as if he wasn't there every night, well aware of whether or not she was sleeping soundly.

"Never," she agreed, a slight shake of her head ruffling her hair against her pillow as she slipped her fingers between his in a gentle hold, "You'll text me when you land?"

He sighed in defeat at the confirmation that she really wasn't going to be accompanying him. "I will call you."

The idea of falling asleep again only to be woken up with the sound of Harry's voice being the first thing to greet her pulled a happy smile onto her features.

"I love you, petal," Harry murmured, curling his body forward and dipping his head to press a kiss to her forehead, "Please, please stay safe and call me if y'need anything. If y'cannot reach me, please call Niall."

"I love you, too, H," she smiled, tipping her head just enough to press her lips against the underside of his chin, "Everything's going to be okay, don't worry so much."

If not for the feel of her lips against his skin, (Y/N) knew Harry would be frowning. Instead he exhaled an unnecessary sigh out of his nose, a slight shake of his head following. (Y/N) let out her own breathy laugh at him, knowing how he practically existed to worry and fuss over her.

A buzz from Harry's phone pulled him to check the alarm notification, a memo urging him to leave now as to keep to the strict timetable he was working on for this excursion. This time he really did frown when he peeked back at (Y/N) through his lashes, a fallen swoop of a curl landing on his forehead before he ran a cool hand through his hair. "I've got to go, but I will be home before the weekend is over, petal. I know I fuss too much over you, but please humor me."

As much as (Y/N) wanted to tease him, poke fun at the worry wart tendencies that took over when it came to her, she knew this trip was hard on him already and he hadn't even left yet. Biting back her smile, she cradled his cheeks in her palms, warming his cool skin, and tugging his head down. Sealing their lips together in a short kiss, she allowed herself to indulge in the clean taste of Harry's mouth before he'd be off for the next four days.

"I promise, okay, H?" she murmured, her lips brushing over his as she spoke.

He didn't bother to answer before he kissed her again, more ardently than her own innocent peck. He leaned into her with his lips slotting between hers, carefully cradling her bottom lip between his two. The tip of his nose skimmed the side of her own as he tilted his head, burrowing closer and closer to her. It was when (Y/N) breathed into his mouth, the budding ache in her head forgotten, that Harry pulled away, his eyes closed and brows scrunched as he rested his forehead on hers.

"'M going to cancel, I don't need to leave you," he mumbled, voice rocky and deep, "Everything I need is right here."

A quiet smile made its way onto her mouth, her fingertips inching into the baby curls bordering his hairline. "No, you need to go. The faster you take care of this, the faster you can come home to me, right?"

Harry seemed defeated by her logic as he sighed, the exhale fanning over (Y/N)'s skin. "You're right, petal," he relented.

After offering one last kiss to the soft of her mouth, Harry pulled away, taking care to put space between them as he stood from the seat he took on the mattress, so as to not get sucked back in and cancel his flight.

With a stiff back and reluctance, Harry trailed to the bedroom door, leaving (Y/N) to follow him with her eyes. As much as she was displaying a calm demeanor with the urge to poke at him over his melodrama, her heart ached watching him move farther and farther away from her. She would miss him with everything in her soul, and she wouldn't be surprised if she found that the headache slowly sharpening behind her eyes was a result of dreading his departure. But, as much as Harry was the protector between the two of them, in this moment, she knew she needed to be the stronger one.

"I love you, Harry," she called after him, pushing down the tufts of the bedding around her so he could get a clear glimpse at the tender smile on her lips.

He paused in the doorway, a pinch in his brow through his eyes were soft and hesitant. "I love you, too, petal. I will be home soon."

For the first time she'd ever seen, his steps faltered as he fought to tear his gaze from her, before he blurred out of the hallway too fast for her to catch. She listened for the next few moments as the heavy door to the manor was slammed closed and the crunching of gravel under the tires of whatever car he chose to take for the day echoed from outside. He'd left.

Sinking into the mattress, (Y/N) stared at the canopy draped over their bed, the netting giving her an obstructed view of the painted ceiling above her. It'd been a long, long while since she'd been inside the manor by herself—not since before their first excursion to Italy had she been the only one wrapped up in her bedsheets, listening to the creaks and aches of the old house and the tinkling of the growing garden outside.

She missed him already.

The hollowness growing under her breastbone did little to curb the ache in her head, if only intensifying it. She knew there would be repercussions to go along with the distance they were putting between each other, but she'd never experienced the onset of those consequences so quickly—usually taking at least a day or two to really rear its head before she ached to sleep if only to dream of him. Nonetheless, (Y/N) padded through their wing, finding her way to the primary kitchen Harry used to make her breakfast and midnight snacks as to not stray too far from her.

It was funny, she thought as she got herself a glass of water, how this place could feel so cold without him, even though he didn't even emit any kind of natural heat. Taking her water with her back to her room, (Y/N) tried to remind herself that it would only be a few more hours—long enough for her to nap away her headache—before Harry would be calling her, telling her he landed and was at their Italian villa, inevitably missing her. Hearing his voice again would make her feel worlds better, guaranteed.

That was the thought she held onto as she settled into their shared sheets once again, scooting closer to Harry's side and tucking his barely used pillow between her arms.

—————

Fighting to keep her eyes open and from sniffling through her congested nose, (Y/N) did her best to listen to Harry's voice on the other line.

As expected, Harry called her as soon as he was settled in the villa, his voice echoing through the emptiness that he proceeded to complain about. But, what she hadn't expected, was oversleeping heavily enough that Harry had to call her three times before she picked up, to which he interrogated her over, wanting to know if she was okay, a panicked edge to his tone she couldn't blame him for having. She never missed his phone calls like that, even if she was sleeping. Harry was a worrier when they were together, but that had nothing on the stress he felt over her safety when he wasn't in her immediate vicinity. But, as soon as she calmed him with promises that she was fine, just sleepy and wrapped up in pleasant dreams starring him (she really had dreamt of him, but maybe not so cloyingly sweet and vividly tender as she described, but its what calmed him and that's all that mattered), he was back to himself, whining over the empty villa and how odd it felt to travel without a heart, as he left his as home with her.

She was grateful for the talkative mood she found him in, as the longer he went on, the more she realized she wasn't in the best condition. The nap she had taken and the ounces of water she drank down beforehand hadn't done much of anything to quell her headache, as the pain had intensified from the moment she woke up, worsening as she tried to focus on Harry's words. Along with her budding migraine, her sinuses had become congested, making it hard for her to breathe and heightening the pressure in her head.

Once, early on in the conversation, Harry had asked if she was feeling alright, if her headache had eased. (Y/N) hesitated in her answer, knowing that if she told Harry the truth of her feelings in that moment, their phone call would be cut short in favor of him racing to the airport and getting back to her as soon as possible—commercial or private flight, whatever would get him home fastest. She could already hear the panic that would enter his voice, the fretting that would ensue even across the ocean that currently separated them. She didn't want that; she didn't want to distract from his work, or make him antsy and upset trying to find a way back to the manor—especially since it wasn't a big deal at all. She had a headache that would surely pass after a proper night's rest and more fluids in her system, no need for Harry to flip out and come home just to miss out on an important client while watching her sleep in bed.

So, she didn't tell him, making up some excuse that she was a little distracted because she put on one of the cooking shows he favored, a honey and almond baklava being show on the television that she wanted him to try making when he had the chance. That was how she found herself trying to breath through her mouth as quietly as possible with her eyes closed in the dark of their bedroom while Harry prattled on about what she's sure was an assessment of the city's current art exhibition that he planned on picking apart the next day when he came for his consultation.

"Are y'still tired, m'love?" Harry murmured through the phone, his tone soft and gentle, the one only reserved for her.

Bouncing back into the conversation, (Y/N) nodded her head before remembering he was a plane ride and a time zone away. "Yeah, yeah I am," she mumbled, rolling in the sheets in an effort to find a position comfortable enough to somehow ease the ton of pressure leaking into her head.

A low hum sounded on the other end. "Have y'eaten yet?"

(Y/N) couldn't stop the smile that stretched over her lips. Of course, that was his first concern. "No, not yet."

"Then I want y'to eat before y'rest again, alright? Have one of the meals I packed away in the refrigerator, there's instructions on how to reheat everything pinned to the top of each. Can you do that for me, petal?"

He was the cutest, she decided. The determination in his voice over the plans he'd just picked out for her was exactly what she expected from him. Though the thought of getting up and putting any effort into making food—even just reheating in the microwave sounded like the most monumental of tasks—made her headache tap against her skull, (Y/N) still hummed her agreement. "Okay, H. Anything else before we get off the phone, dad? Should I send you a picture of my empty plate, so you know I finished?"

Despite the clear tear in her voice, (Y/N) knew what the quiet pause he was taking meant.

"That wouldn't be such a bad idea," Harry mused, "If 's not too much trouble, I would actually greatly appreciate that update."

The earnestness of his words was enough to draw a croaky laugh from her throat. "Harry, I'm not doing that, but I'll text you before I fall asleep," she settled on, amusement tinting her words.

"I suppose that's not a bad compromise," Harry sighed, (Y/N) imagining him sinking into the burnt orange sofa that adorned their loft area, a resigned expression pinching his features.

(Y/N) only shook her head, her eyes falling closed once more. If she tried hard enough, with her eyes shuddered like this and Harry's unnecessary breathing sounding from the other end, she could pretend he was here. "I love you, Harry."

A honey sweetened sigh was exhaled through Harry's smiling lips, the curve audible in the sigh. "I love you, too, m'petal. I'll talk to you in the morning, yes?"

"Yes," she agreed, the idea of eating any kind of dinner slipping further and further away the longer she laid in bed.

"Goodnight, my (Y/N). Sweet dreams."

(Y/N) was only half-aware as her own goodnight left her lips, Harry having had to have hung up as she couldn't remember making the motions to end the phone call before she was tossing her phone to the side in favor of wrenching up the fluffy, green duvet to her chin. She was freezing now, Harry's lack of presence taking its toll harder than she expected. Feeling all the warmth around her, his familiar scent being picked up in notes and bits as she struggled to breathe through her nose, (Y/N) decided to lay down for a few more minutes before venturing to the kitchen—five minutes tops. Then, she'd follow through on her promise and eat whatever it was that Harry packed away for her.

Just another five minutes and her head would quit aching.

—————

(Y/N) tried her best to use her shaking hands to text Harry back, having missed his morning phone call after telling him she was busy visiting Charlotte. It'd been hours since then, (Y/N) not leaving her bed even once while fielding the checkin texts he sent along with a photo of every small thing he spotted around the villa and surrounding town that reminded him of her. She loved knowing that he was thinking of her so consistently, but she couldn't handle another glance at the too-bright screen despite the brightness being on the lowest setting. The sight only made her head pound even more.

No matter how many times she tired to convince herself that all her symptoms were something that would go away with enough sleep and water, every time she took stock of what she was experiencing, she only felt worse and worse. Her headache had been the start before her sinuses became stuffed up, but before long her joints and muscles were heavy and aching and her throat was too sore to get many words out without swearing her insides were raw. Her entire body felt like a big lump of pressure and aches, giving her the kind of exhaustion that allowed her to sleep despite how much her nose and throat hurt every time she breathed.

With the fog covering her brain and the shivers that worked down her spine despite the comforter tugged up to her chin, all (Y/N) wanted was Harry. The idea of his cool body wrapped around her form sounded like heaven. His voice coaxing her through the worst of her ragged coughs when her throat got the best of her could cure each of her ailments at this point. Even just knowing he was in the same place, close enough to catch him in glimpses between naps, or have him wake her when it was time to eat made her poor heart beat faster. What she wouldn't give to have him here.

But, that was exactly why she hadn't told him yet.

(Y/N) knew that the second she even uttered that she was slightly unwell, he'd blow off this consultation, lose a client, and (Y/N) wouldn't find it easy to forgive herself for doing that to him, no matter how many times he would insist that he didn't need that patron's business. Harry would be itching out of his skin to get to her, frantic from the moment he walked through the door, especially with the fact she hadn't told him from the jump how she was feeling. She knew that if he made his way here he would be scolding her in-between spoonfuls of homemade soup, and threats of taking her over his knee for not taking care of herself while he was gone after he finished pouting at her state.

Besides, he had less than seventy-two hours away from her before he'd be home again. Less than seventy-two hours before she could wrap herself around the solid chill of his body and sink into his hold. Before she'd hear his voice in person and have the rumble lull her to sleep with her head on his chest.

Those reminders were enough to soothe (Y/N), if only until the next coughing attack she suffered. But, she knew she could make it just fine. This wasn't the first time she'd fell ill without Harry, she could take care of herself.

—————

"(Y/N), are you okay? I can barely understand you."

Sucking in a breath as deep as she could manage, (Y/N) rolled onto her back with the sticky bedsheets following after her. Her fever had broken for the moment—sure to return in less than an hour if today's pattern prevailed—, and she needed to take this opportunity to get some kind of medicine in her system if she wanted to get out of bed and actually eat something today. After breaking her own heart by checking both the kitchen and bathroom cabinets for any stray medicine bottle she hoped had been stashed away, her only option was to call someone for help.

"Niall," she heaved, throat burning, "I'm sick."

A snort sounded on the other end, "Yeah, I can tell. You sound like you swallowed a lawnmower."

"Hey, be nice," she whined, though the words came out more like a series of dehydrated cracks, "I'm calling for help, and you're only being mean to me."

"What do you need?" Niall questioned, all traces of amusement draining from his tone, "Is Harry with you? What's wrong?"

Listening to him prattle off his list of questions, (Y/N) had half the mind to wonder if being a worry wart was a vampiric trait gained after turning.

"Harry's in Italy right now with a client, and I'm too sick to get out of bed. I need something to help with my fever and whatever will make my head stop pounding." (Y/N)'s stomach growled just as she finished speaking. "And maybe something warm to eat. My throat hurts, so soup might be nice."

"H left you like this to go to Italy?" A tint of disgust filtered into Niall's tone.

"No, no—he doesn't know," she croaked, cutting herself off as a string of coughs crept through her throat, "It started after he left."

A beat passed before Niall's voice sounded through the speaker again, "He doesn't know?"

(Y/N) internally cringed at the slip she hadn't meant to make. Despite the fact Niall was one of her closest friends at this point, she knew better than to think he wouldn't go out of his way to give Harry an update like this.

"No, but you can't tell him, Niall. Please," she pleaded, voice breaking and nose stinging as she tried to suck in a breath, "He's meeting with an important client this weekend, and you know that he'd call it off to come home if he knew. He'll be home on Monday, so I just need to get through the weekend then I'll tell him."

"(Y/N)," he said her name like a warning, like she knew better. And, she did, if she was being honest, but she never claimed to be the smartest and she was going to lean into that and the brain fog that came with her headache until she couldn't anymore.

"Niall, he'll panic, you know that. He'll freak and probably break half of the villa trying to pack, and possibly the gallery just trying to get out of there. It's not worth it—I have a cold that will clear up before he's even back on Monday. We don't need to tell him until he's already home." Her logic sounded flawed in her croaky voice, but she knew she got through to him when Niall hesitated on the other end.

(Y/N) had already sunk into her mattress with a satisfied smile by the time Niall heaved a sigh, an instinct that hadn't gone away despite the fact he didn't even need to breathe anymore.

"What did you need from the shops again?"

—————

Harry's brows furrowed when he read the disjointed pair of texts from (Y/N) for the third time since leaving the villa.

Petal 🌹

sory forgot to tell you i'm haning out with char today

i'l call when im home ok?

She'd texted him a bit since then, responding to the photographs of the thriving strawberry bushel in the garden of the villa and the outside of Mr. Sorrentino's shop, sending back only the barest of emoticons, but those two messages still concerned him. It was as if she typed it out with her eyes closed, and without a second thought before pressing the blue arrow to send it off.

Maybe it was the haze that had been lingering in his head for the past two days, but these messages pitched him off balance. It wasn't unfounded for him to feel discombobulated when he was without her, but the pit pooling in his abdomen was taking things a step further as he began to feel physically ill—something he hadn't experienced since his human days. The odd feeling in his stomach went further than just the harbored urge to zip home and disregard the consultation that he'd carried since walking out of their shared bedroom, breaching into territory he didn't recognize.

While he had suspicions about what the new development could mean, he tried to rationalize with himself first, knowing just how impulsive and wired he became when it came to (Y/N).

He'd been spending a lot of time out in the sun this trip, more than he ever did, trying to tie up loose ends as fast as possible in hopes of getting home even a few hours early. The realtor he'd been in contact with about the Parisian chateau he had his eyes on—a friend of a friend who didn't look too closely at the paperwork—had been pestering him incessantly about what accommodations he required and when he would be by to tour the property. Then, in the middle of it all, he leaves (Y/N) and separates them by an ocean. Of course, he was going to be off kilter when it all came together like that.

It was nothing that a call from (Y/N) once she had the time wouldn't fix.

That was the explanation Harry took with him as he left for the consultation, steeling himself in preparation for the difficulty he'd been warned of through some of the associates at his brokerage firm. He wasn't afraid of this man by any stretch of the imagination, but he knew he would need to keep his temper in check if he wanted this meeting to go as quickly as possible—arguing got him no where, as (Y/N) had so thoughtfully pointed out on several occasions.

It wasn't at all a long journey to the gallery that was serving as the venue for the consolation, a private viewing room having been set up to accommodate them, but the faux illness he'd only felt the beginning tendrils of had just enough time to wrap around his throat in an uncomfortable grip. He was more scatterbrained than he could ever remember being in his eternal life, a pain singeing the cords of his throat, and his joints hesitating to curl.

Taking a deep breath as he entered the gallery, Harry didn't even bother to acknowledge the receptionist that stood to greet him, his eyes trained on the shining leather of his boots with his brows fixed into a glare. He wracked his brain in hopes of finding another explanation for the symptoms that he was experiencing as opposed to the reasoning he speculated over this morning. But all he could come up with was more evidence pointing him in the direction of what he prayed wasn't happening.

It wasn't uncommon for mated pairs to begin taking on the distress of their counterparts, typically coming into play when one half of the whole was in danger, severely hurt, or otherwise unwell enough that their lover would be alerted to help fend off the unsavory feeling. It'd been months since the bonding, and Harry hadn't been given a single insight into any of (Y/N)'s less than sunny moments, not even when she slipped on a patch of ice just outside the back door of the garden, landing her with a mottling of purple and blue bruising along the backs of her thighs. He figured if he didn't receive that shock of awareness then, that they wouldn't be the kind of pair that was granted that ability. But, today was making him reconsider that stance.

Replaying the night before he left for Italy, he recalled the way (Y/N) seems more inclined to shy away from the light, acting as if she were like him and sticking to the shadows and the low lights that darkened their bedroom. He recalled the way she moved with hesitance, as if the stretching of her muscles and bending of her joints took more effort than she bargained for. Even waking her up before he headed off was a challenge, (Y/N) needing more coaxing that normal to even consider blinking her eyes open for him.

But, she would tell him if she was feeling ill, right? She'd know that he wouldn't be able to live with himself if she fell sick while he was in a whole other country. Right?

Harry disregarded the set up of the viewing room around him as he slammed the door shut after him, focused on the phone he pulled from his pocket. He had only minutes to spare before his appointment would arrive, and he would have to feign professional pleasantries in the face of someone he couldn't care any less about.

I am going to call you once I am done with my meeting. I need to hear your voice. Please answer.

Pressing send, Harry's forehead creased when he caught sight of the two seemingly disoriented messages at the top of the thread. If he was proved right, and she was sick, he didn't know what he was going to do with himself, knowing that he was feeling only the faint tremors of the real pain she was going through, all the while he was in a different country listening to the prattling of an uneducated patron that thought he knew more about the art periods Harry lived through.

When he didn't immediately earn a response or even the timestamp proving she had read the message, Harry relented to tucking the device away just in time for the receptionist from downstairs to return with a guest in tow.

"Mr. Styles," she greeted with a practiced smile, something wary in her eyes as she took in the tight line of Harry's jaw, "Mr. Cyrus is here for your consultation. Would you like me to bring any refreshments for the two of you?"

Harry didn't even bother awaiting the new guest's input on the offer before he waved the woman away, a tight line formed by his lips. A reserved smile was painted on her lips as she stepped out of the way, allowing Mr. Cyrus to step into the room, the door closing behind him, though Harry could still hear the click of her heels over the hardwood floor. Each clack tightened his muscles another minuscule amount as if the sound was pinging around in his skull, leaving him stiff as his new guest reached out a hand in greeting.

"Mr. Styles, thank you for coming out here to meet with me," Mr. Cyrus started, a slight accent filtering through his words, "I hope you're making the most out of your time here, despite this."

Only a hum made it's way out of his throat as he shook the man's hand, nothing more than a quick nod of their hands before he was slipping out of his grip. "Please," he murmured, gesturing to the pair of seats arranged around the table in hopes of feigning some level of politeness.

Lucky enough, this client seemed to be the talkative kind, spewing off research he made in preparation for the consultation. (For the bits and pieces Harry bothered to tune into, he found 98% of the information to be wrong, especially the so-called facts he seemed so smug about). Harry only sunk into his seat, elbow propped on the table with his chin cradled in his palm, uncaring of whether or not he was playing the convincing role of paying attention.

Tempering his breathing, Harry did his best to take stock of the unpleasant symptoms rifling through his body. Though the pains were still dull, as if he was experiencing the secondhand sensations originating a wall away, acute shocks made their way through the fog, making his head throb for a moment before his throat felt like it could crack in half from dehydration. His jaw clenched as he swore his joints began to ache as if taking on an invisible weight, the fuse on his worry now lit at the idea that this was only a taste of what (Y/N) could be going through.

The vision of (Y/N) wrapped up in their bedsheets, pale and sweating with a frown on her lips and those grooves between her brows Harry always smoothed out with a kiss, all alone while he was tucked away in their cozy villa an ocean away all because of the pretentious asshole sitting across from him, made Harry go still.

What was he doing here?

What was he doing here in the sunny Italian countryside, in a gallery that didn't hold anything nearly as enthralling as what he had at home, with some human who's heartbeat sounded more like an incessant knocking than the baseline melody he was so used to at the manor? How could he do this to his bonded? Whether or not she was sick, Harry should be with her.

"If you would excuse me for jus' one second," Harry murmured, effectively cutting off Mr. Cyrus' ramblings on Titian.

Harry didn't wait for any kind of response before he was sweeping out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. He didn't wait until he hid away in a different viewing room before he pulled his phone out, restless hands tapping at the screen.

Looking at the screen, he found it void of any notifications, leaving a clear view of his lockscreen—a photo of (Y/N) stretched out in his rose garden, bathing under the sun as she peeked at him over her sunglasses from where he stood in the shade. The picture only made his frozen heart crack even deeper. The reason for his existence could be suffering and he wasn't doing anything to help her.

Swiping through his phone with determination, Harry pulled up (Y/N)'s contact with full intention to call her again before his phone began buzzing in his hand. The screen transitioned to display an incoming call from... Niall?

Harry almost wanted to ignore the call, eager to get (Y/N) on the line instead. But, Niall only ever called him when something important had happened, usually an emergency. (He tried not to think about it, but he remembered the last time Niall called him like this, when (Y/N) was being terrorized by the blood children).

"Niall?" Harry greeted once he pressed the phone to his ear, doing his best to unclench his jaw.

"Hey, H," Niall reciprocated on the other line, his disposition much sunnier, "How are you? How's Italy?"

"Fine. Is everything okay?" Harry's patience had died in that room with Mr. Cyrus.

"Well," Niall started, feigned pleasantry leaving his tone, "I'm not supposed to be telling you, but something's wrong with (Y/N)."

If his heart hadn't stopped beating centuries ago, Harry was fairly certain this would have been the day that killed him, these would have been the words that ended him.

Making a point to temper himself, Harry forced himself to lighten his grip on his phone. "What do you mean." Though he was posing a question, his inflection stayed firm, the words barely being gritted out between his teeth.

"(Y/N), she's..." Niall trailed off, seemingly at war with the rest of his explanation. Harry didn't care.

"I swear, if you do not tell me what is going on right now, Niall, I wi—"

"She's sick, okay? That's all," he relented with a sigh, "I just left the manor, I dropped off some medicine and things, but she's not looking too good. I'm sure she has a fever and she could barely talk to me and make sense at the same time. She didn't want me to tell you, because she knew you'd freak out—which I know you're doing right now—, but she didn't look too good when I saw her. I just thought you should know."

Though breathing was nothing more than apart of the human facade he'd donned in the past centuries, Harry knew that in this moment he was going to need the deep breaths he sucked in like his lungs were burning.

She didn't want him to know? How long had she been ill that she had to reach out to Niall to get supplies for her? She was so far gone that she wasn't making sense?

Why was Harry still here?

Unwiring his jaw, Harry mumbled a quiet, "Okay. Thank you for letting me know," before the call was ended and his phone was back in his pocket if only to spare it from being crushed in his fist.

Harry felt as if he was on autopilot as he stalked through the halls, bypassing the viewing room that held his now most hated client. Firing off emails as he did so, arranging for his private plane to be ready for him within the next hour, Harry muttered something to the receptionist on his way out about an emergency and to inform Mr. Cyrus he'd be in touch. (The second part was a lie, but Harry didn't care at this point).

—————

If not for the fact his phone charger and gifts he'd bought for (Y/N) were at the villa, Harry wouldn't have wasted time with backtracking to the house before heading to the airport. He tore through the place, packing and grabbing anything he thought he may need, all the while his ear was trained to listen for his ringing phone.

From the second he hung up the phone, his mind had been full of nothing but a reel of his worst nightmares when it came to (Y/N)'s health. The delicate balance that went into a human's life was something he hadn't given much thought to until he fell for his bonded. Though, now, especially in this moment, he couldn't find room to have anything else on his mind. He knew good and well that science and medicine had advanced far past what it had been in his youth, but there was always a chance.

Always a chance that she wouldn't take her medicine according to the correct timetable. Always a chance that her fever wouldn't break. Always a chance that this wasn't just a harmless, temporary cold. Always a chance he wouldn't make it in time, leaving her to wither away in the silk of their bedsheets.

That was all he could think about as he moved through the motions of driving to the airport, and moving through the masses until he was safely boarded. It was only then that he had enough space in between his bubbling worries (he was currently fixating on whether or not she could somehow wander outside in her delirium and call more blood children to her location) to pull his phone out and try calling (Y/N) again.

As expected, it went to voicemail.

"(Y/N), petal," he murmured, tone gentle despite the tense in his muscles, "I'm coming home. Niall told me." Harry paused for a moment, feeling his throat clog at the memory of Niall telling him that (Y/N) explicitly told him not to share the knowledge of her state. "I'm sorry I wasn't there—that I left you. But, I'll be home soon, and I'm going to take care of you, okay? Hang in there for me, petal. I love you."

Hanging up the phone, Harry knew that despite the fact he was tucking the device away in his pocket, he was going to be calling her again soon enough.

As the plane took off, Harry sunk into the beige leather of the seat. With his eyes closed, he tipped his head back against the headrest. Despite his want to do nothing more than to force himself into a sleep, knowing the hours would pass by much quicker, he reasoned with himself to stay awake and alert—if for no other reason than to keep track of his own symptoms and ensure that as long as he didn't feel worse, that meant (Y/N) was okay.

—————

"... I will be home soon. I love you, petal."

Harry hung up the phone as he climbed into his car, grateful to be in control again and closing the distance between himself and his bonded on his own terms. He kept his phone in the cupholder as he started on the familiar drive home in hopes of hearing the buzzing loud and clear incase she called back, finally answering the dozen of calls and corresponding voicemails he left since their last contact.

Though he knew this trek back to the manor like the back of his hand, it didn't feel the same without (Y/N) in the passenger seat. That was always one of his favorite parts of going out of town with her: the drive back, with his love exhausted in the passenger seat, using the last of her strength to stay awake with him during the drive and hold his hand as he navigated them home. Now, he was left to be a nervous wreck as he rushed to get home as fast as possible, disregarding all traffic laws in the hour it took to find himself approaching the long drive to the manor.

If not for muscle memory, Harry's halfway sure he wouldn't have even put the car in park or took the keys from the ignition once he was safely in the garage. (Y/N)'s heartbeat rung in his ears, the sound flooding him with relief so tangible Harry swore the only way he'd be able to let it out would be through tears. But he couldn't worry about that at the moment, not when he heard the wheeze of her lungs, her breathing paced. She was still asleep. Alone.

Utilizing his supernatural speed, he blurred through the manor in a matter of seconds, finding more relief the second he stepped over the threshold of their bedroom. (Y/N) was barely anything more than a lump under the layers of duvets and blankets she must have collected from around the manor, but he knew she was there. Her small nest was complimented with two half-full bottles of water and a pill container sitting on his nightstand, as she had taken up residence on his side of the bed. Her heartbeat was strong and steady, his lifeline in this moment of panic, and her scent was everything he needed to douse some of the worry that blazed in his stomach.

She was okay, and he was here now.

Approaching the bed at a pace a bit too fast to be human, Harry didn't hesitate before he took a seat on the edge of the mattress, emulating the same scene he had left with days earlier. This time, though, (Y/N) didn't look up at him with tired eyes and a soft smile—no, she was too busy sleeping with a cinch in her brows and the color drained from her face. To keep from burbling off worried sentiments that would wake his petal, Harry kneaded his bottom lip between his teeth and laid his hand on her forehead.

While it wasn't out of the ordinary for (Y/N) to feel pleasantly warm against his chilled skin, this was different. Her skin felt as if she had bathed in fire, the flames having melded with her skin. (Though a pit of guilt began to open up next to his worry, Harry couldn't help but feel a bit of contentment knowing that with her fever, he could wrap himself around her, chilly skin and all, without having to worry about making her freeze). A sheen covered her features, a light sweat that only highlighted the lack of life in her face. His heart broke as he took her in.

Brushing his fingertips down the planes of her cheek, the line of her jaw, and the curve of her neck, Harry comforted himself in her form. This moment was the first time in days he wasn't agonizing over the pain in his throat and ache in his head. Now that he was here, he could take care of her, fix the mistake of leaving her behind and care for her the way she deserved.

Harry didn't even think before he was kicking off his shoes ((Y/N) hated having shoes anywhere near her bedding, a particular habit Harry hadn't even thought about until she came into his life), and climbing into bed beside her. The task of unrolling the sheets from around her body and dismantling the fortress of blankets layered over her barely made any kind of disturbance to (Y/N)'s sleeping form, the most acknowledgment was earned when Harry wrapped himself around her—arms threaded around her waist, face in her neck, and legs twined between hers—, a sigh falling from her lips.

This moment was more self-indulgent than anything, Harry knew as he inhaled a lungful of her scent, but he liked to think that with the way (Y/N) sunk into his hold, she was happy he was home now, even in her sleep. He felt desperate as he dotted his lips over her skin, taking in heady inhales of her scent and dragging his nose over the curve of her neck as his exhales fanned over her skin. She was in his arms, warm as the sun she bathed in during the summer, smelling as sweet as the strawberries she indulged in regularly once learning how much he liked tasting them on her.

He left this behind for some consultation?

That logic was hard to wrap Harry's mind around in that moment. Even as he slipped his hand under the top of his she used as sleepwear, cataloguing the heat of her skin, his eyelashes brushing the delicate skin of her neck, his ankle hooked around her own, he couldn't get close enough to her. Though he had his ears tuned into the sound of her heart and hands documenting every languid move of her muscles as she shifted in his arms, breaking down every single process that made up the love of his existence, it wasn't enough.

He needed her. He needed to see her eyes, hear her voice, see the recognition flood into her gaze when she looked at him.

And, that would start with the dreaded task of waking her from the sleep he was sure she craved.

It was real work to pull himself out of the cocoon he made in her neck, unfurling himself from the home he made around her body as he propped himself up on an elbow to gaze at her from above. The hand he had tucked under her top, slipped out and came to rest on the round of her cheek, pale fingertips running along her cheekbone in gentle sweeps.

"Petal," he crooned to her, voice barely above a whisper, "(Y/N), petal, need y'to wake up for me."

Not a single stir.

Harry tried again with a lump building behind his sternum. She was obviously so sleepy, and here he was disrupting her all because he wanted to see her eyes. But, he reasoned with himself as he pressed his lips to her cheek in another soft attempt of waking her, it wouldn't be just for that—he was going to give her medicine, too, if she needed any, and he'd make sure she drank some more water before falling back into her dream world. He wasn't being completely selfish.

"Darling," he tried again, his words sweeping over her heated skin and melting, "Let me see your pretty eyes. Need y'to wake up, so I know you're okay." Dropping his palm down her neck, Harry began working a circuit with his hand over the shoulder exposed by the drooping of her top, up the curve of her throat, and dipping low enough to feel the echos of her heartbeat against his palm. The motion rocked her body in gentle waves in hopes of coaxing her out of sleep along with his pleaded coos of her name.

A few beats passed, Harry feeling guiltier and guiltier by the second, before (Y/N) finally blinked her eyes open. The cinch that had taken root between her brows as she slumbered only deepened as she took in the bleary sight before her. Though they were only open a smidge, Harry felt his smile grow watery as he took in the color of her irises.

"Harry?" she grumbled, voice broken and hoarse.

Settling his hand on her cheek, Harry nodded his head, "'S me, love."

Canting her head to the side, the pinch in her brows turned hopeful with the rounding of her gaze and softening of her features. "You're really here?"

The watery grin on his cheeks grew as he couldn't help but drop his head to press a kiss to the heated round of her cheek. "'M really here, darling. Couldn't stand to stay away from you any longer."

When he pulled back, Harry got to watch as her bleary, hopeful gaze was replaced with recognition. Her mouth dropped into a small gape, the full of her lips opening as a puff of air was exhaled. It only took another moment before she was urging herself off the bed and wrapping her arms around Harry's neck, this time her face burrowing in the tendons of his neck.

"I missed you so much, H," she murmured into his skin, voice nasally from either the cold wracking through her body or the emotion of seeing him again seeping into her system.

Harry's eyes fell closed as he luxuriated in her hold. He allowed himself to be tugged down, (Y/N)'s form underneath him as he was pulled to lay atop her with her weakened arms. "I missed you, too, petal. Never doing that again, not ever. You're coming with me wherever I go, or I am not going at all, I've decided."

He swore he heard her murmur a thank you against his skin, but the sound was swallowed up by the rumblings that were taking place in his chest, a quiet purr resulting from his contentment in that moment. (He rarely ever purred like this, the one time within memory he could recall being when he was nesting while staving off his heat before bonding with (Y/N), but he couldn't blame his body for the way he reacted at having her in his arms again). Moments passed as Harry allowed her to feel him against her, the solid weight of his form pressing into the soft give of her own, before he had to reason with himself that he would have all night to hold her, but he needed to get some fluids and medication in her while she was awake.

Blocking out the whine he heard from her as he pulled away, Harry reached for the pill bottle on the side table and one of her bottles of water. "Still tired, petal?"

"Yeah," she breathed, sounding exhausted though her eyes were bright and adoring as they took him in, "You're staying, right? You don't have to leave again?"

The shake of his head came before he could even form words around the lump in his throat, "No, no. 'M not leaving, again, especially not while you're so ill. I will be here all night with you, darling."

She seemingly blanched at his words, being launched back into reality. "H-How did you know I'm sick?"

A slight curve of his lips molded Harry's features into something soft, the rumbling in his chest subsiding at the memory of her secret-keeping. "Aside from the obvious, you mean?" he teased, peering at her through his lashes as he made quick work out of the cap to the pill bottle. When she did nothing other than sink further into the fluff of his pillow and sink of the sheets, Harry shook his head. "Niall told me."

An exasperated sigh crackled from her lungs as her eyes shuttered closed. "I made him promise not to tell you."

"I heard about that as well," he answered simply, unable to hide his disappointment with the fact she was unwilling to share this information with him, "But, we will be having a conversation about that later. For now, I want y'to drink some water and take more medicine for me before y'go back to sleep." Harry doled out the correct dosage according to the bottle's label before working on the top of the water as (Y/N) fell silent beside him. Reading over the facts pasted to the white pill bottle, Harry pursed his lips. "Y'haven't taken any in the last four hours, right?"

When what he earned in response was nothing more than a watery no, Harry's concern shot through the roof. If not for the fact he wasn't entirely alive, Harry swore he would have gotten whiplash at the rate he flicked his head up to catch his lover before she fell to tears. The sight that greeted him broke his barely mended heart, her already sullen features now complimented with a pair of teary eyes and a wobbly bottom lip.

"Petal," he crooned, carefully setting his supplies off to the side in favor of gathering her into his arms instead, "I was only teasing, yes? I am not upset, I jus' want for y'to get better. Don't cry, okay?" His final sentiment was spoken around a growing lump in his throat while the very backs of his eyes burned, like a hypocrite.

"I know, I know," she whimpered, clinging to him with her face buried in his shoulder, "I'm s-so happy you're home, that's all. This is all I've been wanting since you left; I didn't want to do this alone, anymore."

Harry took in tempering breaths as she spoke, willing himself to keep a lid on his own emotions until she fell asleep (the two of them crying all over each other wasn't going to make (Y/N) feel any better). "Not alone anymore, (Y/N). 'M right here, and 'm not leaving you again."

Her arms tightening around his neck was what he earned in response.

Once she was calmed and Harry felt secure in being able to see her tear-tracked face without falling into sobs himself, he pulled her from his hold and finally followed through his with plan to get some water and medicine in her. (Y/N) listened like the good girl she was, and Harry told her as much as he bundled her into his arms after she drained both of her half-finished bottles.

With nothing more than the thin layer of their silken sheets draped over their tangled forms, (Y/N) gazed at Harry with hearts in her eyes across to where he lay beside her. "How was your trip?" she questioned, voice sounding slightly better with the help of the water.

A single dimple dented into Harry's cheek as he tried to recall any part of the last almost three days that weren't consumed with thoughts of her. "Fine, boring, uneventful," Harry listed, "I don't like it there much anymore if you are not with me."

Harry could tell she really was tired with the way she didn't even tease him over his devotion or brush off his cloyingly sweet words with a shy smile. All he was granted was a short shake of her head, as she eyes shuttered closed. "And how did the consultation go?"

"Didn't finish it."

Her brows drew together over her closed eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Niall called me in the middle of it, telling me about your little secret, and I didn't bother finishing any negotiations before I left to come home."

That got her eyes fluttering open with wide shock clearing her gaze. "Harry, wh—I can't—You're not supposed to do that! That's why I didn't want to tell you in the first place!"

Sweeping a hand over her heated forehead, Harry shook his head and did his best to soothe her away from the tone that was surely searing her throat. "You are m'priority, not some stuffy rich man who thinks he knows anything about art because he once watched a documentary. I was not going to sit through another second of that meeting knowing that you needed me here instead. Do you understand that, (Y/N)?"

Despite her disappointment raised tone, Harry could see guilt simmering away in her eyes. "But, this is a big client, right? Someone important en—"

"No one is more important than you, that is what I am trying to tell you, darling. No sale, or heavy investor means more to me than you and your health. No exceptions." Though his words were stern, Harry made a point to keep his tone gentle and sticky like honey, sweetening the delivery in a way he needed her to swallow and understand.

"I'm so—"

This time it only took a look from him to cut her off. They'd been over this countless times: (Y/N)'s need to apologize for things that were not her fault or completely out of her control. Like her illness.

Instead of arguing, (Y/N) allowed herself to bask in the feel of his hand sweeping over her heated skin and petting back her rogue hairs. If not for the way she nodded her head and the pacing of her breathing, Harry would have assumed she had fallen asleep with the way her eyes fell shut.

"Even though I feel a little bit guilty, I'm happy you're home, H."

"I am too, petal."

Once he knew she was well and safely asleep, Harry had a few hours to kill before she would either wake up or he would be forced to rouse her for another round of medicine, leaving him to do the one thing he did every time there was a facet of human life he didn't know anything about: he pulled up Google.

Typing in a search for the best home remedies for a cold, Harry grazed over the hundreds of thousands of search results that were yielded. He could spend a few hours like this.

—————

Waking up still felt like a dream as (Y/N) tried to blink her eyes open. The silk sheet pulled up to her chin did nothing to shield her from the pleasant chill that seeped over her skin and cooled the heat that pooled just under the surface. Everything felt a bit surreal as she tried to fight her way to the surface, clinging to the bits of light that haloed around a form she couldn't entirely make out.

"Hi, petal," a deep crooning voice greeted her, a sweep of gentle fingertips brushing her hair from her face following after, "Finally waking up?"

She tried to suck in a deep breath before she remembered her nose was too congested, leaving her to struggle to breath in through gaped lips and crackling lungs. A soft cooing sound floated between them, the voice that had greeted her now pouting over her state. The fresh air in her lungs urged her to wake and see the angel hovering above her.

Blinking away the bleariness that plagued her vision, (Y/N) climbed to the surface of her dreamland, breaking through the veil that separated her from reality. The flecks of light she had perceived as a halo around a hovering angel, was actually nothing more than the midlevel glow from a bedside lamp. The light was emitting from beside Harry, where he sat against the headboard with her head in his lap and his fingers trailing through her hair in soothing motions. He gazed down at her with softened moss-colored irises, adoration swimming through them, his face unsmiling though (Y/N) could see contentment rounding out his features

"Hi," she croaked, wincing at the feel of her raw vocal cords rubbing against one another.

That got Harry's mouth to curve into a smile, his hand sliding through her hair before landing on the slope of her neck. He canted his head to match her eye contact from where she laid in his lap, the pad of his thumb running a circuit along the line of her jaw. "Hi, love. How are y'feeling?"

The fog that billowed in her head didn't clear enough to give a solid answer as she shook her head. All (Y/N) knew was that she didn't feel good.

Harry's mouth set into a thin line as he gazed down at her, eyes sweeping over her form as if cataloguing her state for his own diary of her symptoms he had going on. "Still tired?" he asked.

"Mhm," (Y/N) hummed, fighting the instinct to close her eyes and roll over back into her dream state. At least there she knew that her head wouldn't hurt and she could breathe through her nose without problem.

"Need y'to eat first before y'go back to sleep, though, okay? By the looks of the meals I packed for y'before I left, y'haven't been taking care of yourself like I asked." A somewhat scolding glance ran through Harry's gaze before he softened again.

Really, how could he blame her? Poor petal had been practically bed bound, how could he expect her to wait around for a plate of pasta to reheat in that state?

"Sorry," she murmured despite the fact she knew she was off the hook before she'd even been caught on it.

Harry was quick to shake his head at her response, a loose curl falling over his forehead. "No need to be sorry, petal. I shouldn't even be reprimanding y'when you are like this. Besides, I've already prepared a fresh meal for y'tonight that's supposed to make y'feel better."

Though the idea of eating right now didn't really outweigh how much she wanted to go back to sleep, (Y/N) knew better than to turn down the offer. If she was being honest, she couldn't quite remember the last time she ate something more substantial than a handful of Harry's homemade granola he was testing out for her. There was no chance of her getting better if she didn't put in the effort.

"What is it?" she asked, reluctantly pulling herself from Harry's hold to sit up on the mattress. Stretching out her limbs and spine was a relief she hadn't seen coming. How long had she holed herself up under the covers, barely moving unless to grab a tissue?

"Homemade tortellini and kale soup," Harry answered proudly. (He'd begun to get a bit of an ego when it came to his pasta making skills, ever since (Y/N) raved over his lasagna one too many times). "I tried m'best," he continued, "but I didn't have m'sous chef with me, so 'm not sure if it will be as perfect as I would prefer it to be."

She was hardly anything of a sous chef when she was in the kitchen with him—she was more of a taste tester than anything, and she was only granted bites after begging Harry—,but (Y/N) felt a smile mold over her lips nonetheless. "I'm sure it's just fine, H. Let me try it."

Taking that as his cue to leave his spot against the headboard, Harry planted his feet on the marbled floor before reaching for (Y/N)'s waist. He positioned her in his old station, preparing her for the dinner in bed he'd planned. "So demanding," he had mumbled under his breath, peering at her through his lashes with amusement sparkling in his gaze. He held his chilled hands on her waist a moment longer as he dipped his head down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll be right back, petal," he murmured against her skin, lingering for a beat before releasing his hold on her.

In the few moments that Harry left her be, having blurred out of the room to assumedly return with her soup, (Y/N) got a glimpse of how she was feeling now that she was more cognizant. All of her limbs felt heavy, bones being weighed down by muscles that felt as if they'd been strung too tight for too long. Some of the pressure in her head had been alleviated given that she could breathe out of one side of her nose for the time being, but her throat was sure to make up for it with an ache in her lungs burning with every breath she took in.

No more than a few beats passed before Harry was back, cutting (Y/N) off before she had time to wallow in the feel of her aching body. In his hands he held a tray adorned with the bowl of steaming soup and her blue bottle she was sure had been refilled to the top with water he was going to expect her to finish before sleeping again for the night. He concentrated on the tray in his hands as he slowed, brows furrowed as he made his way to her (his, technically) side of the bed.

"'S very warm, so be careful, petal," he mumbled, settling the tray across her lap, the legs denting the mattress on either side of her thighs.

She smiled as she gazed down at her meal for the night, the vision tinted in pink at the thought of Harry stalking around the kitchen as she slept, making her first warm meal since he'd left. Though it wasn't a new development, the love felt she knowing that he'd learned how to cook for no other reason than to take care of her almost consumed her.

"Thank you," she said as he sunk down on the edge of the mattress at her side.

He nodded to her, brows still furrowed before he prompted, "Drink some more water while it cools, please. I read lots of water is supposed to help cure illnesses."

There was that love again, almost taking her whole. If not for the pain in her throat—probably time to take another round of medicine, but she was sure Harry already had that covered—she would have teased him some. Instead, she was left with that rosy vision again in her head, this time of him scrolling through his phone with that same determined set in his features, reading about at home remedies for a cold. That scene only allowed for a small okay to be croaked out of (Y/N)'s throat as she reached for the bottle on the tray.

A beat passed as (Y/N) sipped on the cool water, the temperature on the line between being both soothing and burning on her raw throat with how chilled it was.

"May I ask you something, petal?"

(Y/N) raised her brows at his words, finding his gaze already trained on hers from her side. "Sure," she swallowed, taking a breath before sucking down more water, not having known how dehydrated she was until the first sip.

His gaze dropped down to the bowl at her lap, pursing his lips before meeting her gaze again. "Please know that you may tell me no, but this is something I'd really like to do for you if you'd let me."

The prelude to his request made (Y/N) nervous as she listened. If he thought she had the energy to partake in some welcome home sex, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

"Okay."

Shuffling closer to her with the sheets fluffing around him, Harry reached for the sterling spoon that had been placed off to the side of her dinner. He matched her eyes, his own clear and artificially green, before he spoke, "May I feed you?"

The breath of laughter that fell from her lips didn't help the ache in her lungs, but she couldn't help it as she processed his request. "Really? You want to do that?"

Giving a definitive nod, Harry continued, "Yes. I read that illnesses like these can make your muscles sore and movement something of a hindrance. I want to help you, if it's alright with you."

How was she supposed to deny him when he looked to her with that strong set in his jaw, mind made up with how madly he wanted to take care of her? He reminded her of the kitten he sometimes emulated with those purrs that rumbled from his chest, features in a determined pout though devotion swam through his gaze as he looked at her.

"Okay," she settled on, her lightly chapped lips forming a smile as she gazed at him, "Thank you, H."

He brightened at the sound of her consent, shooting her a soft lipped smile before he scooped out a spoonful of soup loaded with pasta and greens. He hesitated bringing the bite to her mouth, pressing the back of his free hand against the ceramic bowl. The action only further deepened the crease between his brows before he matched her gaze again. "Tell me if 's still too hot, petal. 'M afraid 'm not the best judge of temperature."

Maybe it was the cold in her system moving to her head, but (Y/N) couldn't stop herself before a watery smile made its way to her lips that matched the tears on her waterline. "I'm sure it's just fine, Harry. Thank you."

It was the sight of her with tears in her eyes that made Harry drop the utensil back into the warm soup, his hands coming to cradle her cheeks in his palms. "Petal, what's wrong? Are y'hurting again?" he rambled, an undercurrent of panic steeping his words, "It's too soon for more medication, but I can try to figure something out for you, okay?"

(Y/N) shook her head, unable to stop herself as a pair of tears seeped from her eyes and the lump in her throat further burned her already swollen insides. "No, no, that's not it. You're just... I just really love you. Thank you for being here."

The curve of his brows turned downward, rounding out his features as if he were gazing at a puppy. "Oh, petal," he crooned, dropping his head to press a delicate kiss to the full of her lips, "I love you, too, so much. I love taking care of you almost as much, you know that? Not a single place I'd rather be when I've got you right here."

She canted her head in his hold, smushing her cheek against his palms. "Even if I've got more snot than brains right now?"

That finally caused a smile to crack at his features. "You are the most divine patient I've ever tended to, I swear it."

A watery laugh fell from her lips at his praise, her smile uplifting her features and causing the remaining tears on her waterline to rise into her view. Turning her face in his hands, she pressed her lips to his cool palm. Her kiss lingered on his hand for a moment longer before she wrapped her own fingers around his wrists, pulling them from her face. "Sorry," she started, a bit bashful now, "I didn't mean to cry all over you. But, really, thank you."

"Don't be sorry," he said, the words like a mantra at this point, "I never mind taking care of you, no matter the state. I jus' want you to be well, that is m'only request." Before she could bubble off another round of watery gratitude, Harry dropped one of her hands in favor of reaching for the abandoned silverware. "Now, I need to have y'fed before this goes as cold as I am."

(Y/N) watched with a bursting heart as he scooped a bite out for her before bringing it to her lips. He murmured a small careful, darling to her as she took the spoonful of soup. The temperature was just right despite his worries, flavors perfectly crafted and so noticeably Harry-made with the seasoning habits he had picked up while learning what her favorites and preferences were. She could feel his eyes on her as she swallowed down the bite, the warmth soothing the frigidness that came along with the ice water in her bottle.

When he hesitated to spoon out another bite for her, (Y/N) knew what he was looking for. Squeezing the hand he had wrapped in hers, she smiled at him in encouragement, his features softening at the sight. "This is really good, Harry. You got it perfect—I already feel a little better."

Biting back the smile that threatened to take over his features, Harry gave out another helping from the bowl in her lap. "Truthfully?" he murmured, waiting as she chewed, "You're already feeling well?"

He was too cute, her vampire. "I wouldn't say well, exactly," she reasoned, "But, I'm sure I'll feel close to it after I'm done."

(Y/N) felt her heart bang against her ribcage with the power of its beats as she gazed at him. He was all but glowing with pride. She loved giving that to him, even if he found out later that she still wasn't feeling all that well despite his food.

"Well enough to take a warm shower with me?" he asked after a few moments, having ushered a couple more bites of his curing food to her mouth, "The warmth should help your sinuses, and soothe any aches, I've learned."

While the idea of standing up for at least twenty minutes (if not longer with the addition of Harry under the water) made her more tired than she can remember being all weekend, this was just another thing she couldn't imagine denying Harry (and herself, really) of. Plus, he'd wash her hair for her, and that was almost better than the idea of the warm water all together.

"You'll wash my hair for me?" she asked, swallowing down another bite of cheese filled pasta and kale.

The smile that bloomed across Harry's features was all the response she needed.

"It would be m'pleasure, darling."

—————

its been SO long since I wrote for vamp h I hope I still have the vibes right for them!!! thank u so much to the patient people that requested a blurb like this so long ago and thank u to everyone who read this!! so sorry for any mistakes and if you have any requests or ideas of your own please send them in!!!

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my-soupy-brain · 9 months

Note

the thought of ted stretching and his shirt riding up to show his tummy + happy trail has just made me SO distracted at work

I love getting these requests because I'm not the only thirsty person for Ted/Jason's stomach. Let's gooo!

---

Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader

Warnings: Mostly fluff + lust

---

You were in a meeting in Rebecca's office, she and Leslie going round and around about some new players to sign.

You were trying to keep up. Since you were filling in for Keeley, who'd gone off on her own, you weren't sure what you were supposed to be keeping track of but watching them was like watching a ping pong match.

"Hiya, Boss. Oh hey there, Higgins!" Ted announces as he walks into the office, dropping off Rebecca's small pink box of homemade biscuits.

They always smelled so amazing...

"Oh and hey there, y/n!" he exclaims happily, smiling at you. You wave back, your heart fluttering. You always have had a little crush on Ted. He's so jovial, so funny, so nice and so...

Sexy.

Ted plops down on the couch to watch the discussion, smiling at you as your face returns to your laptop where your fingers move swiftly over the keys.

"How's it goin', Hemingway," Ted jokes with a big grin. You chuckle.

"It's goin'! Just sitting in to see where I can help with press," you add, not looking up from your screen. Ted nods, pursing his lips, half listening to the conversation.

Your eyes are fixed on your screen until Ted stretches his arms over his head, and his polo shirt, rides up just enough to see his tummy. And his...

happy trail.

Gulp.

Well, what was a little crush is now full-blown lust. He leans his head back on the couch, his arms stretched behind him, and doesn't seem at all fussed that his skin is showing.

And he has no idea what it's doing to you.

Your eyes travel up to the top of his polo, where a couple buttons are undone and his chest hair peeks out of the top. You always noticed this and loved it. It's so masculine. Incredibly sexy.

But now you know where the rest of it goes, your brain starts to imagine taking him out of those clothes, pulling down those khakis, and...

"Y/N?" Rebecca asks again.

"Hm?" you answer, snapping out of your lusty daydream.

"Can you put together a press release?" Rebecca asks, her eyes wide and kind, but expecting an answer.

You nod, not sure you know what you're putting the release together about it.

"Absolutely, can do!" you answer, nervously sweating at the agreement that you are ashamed to admit you know nothing about.

When the meeting ends, you all return to your offices, and Ted walks with you down the hall. You say nothing. Your brain is racing to figure out what the hell you agreed to, so you don't look like an idiot.

I'm too new. I can't admit I wasn't listening. I have to get it together...

Ted sees the wheels turning as he follows behind you into your office.

"Oh, Ted, can I help you," you ask as you turn around. His hands are in his pockets and he's smiling.

"I think ya drifted off somewhere else in that meeting upstairs," Ted says with a smile. You blush hard.

"I'm...sorry..." you admit, worried he's judging you.

"I didn't mean to distract ya," he says, winking at you now. And now you want the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

"No, I mean... I... I didn't..." you stammer, your eyes darting toward the ground, looking for an out.

Lightning bolt? Car to ram into your office? ANYTHING!

He steps a little closer, looking at you with equally blushed cheeks.

"It's OK, you distract me, too sometimes..." he says with a low voice. "You wanna go out? Grab a drink sometime?"

You nod with a smile, pushing out your embarrassment. "I'd love that, Ted."

He grins and nods. "It's a date!" he adds happily, just about to open your door.

"Oh, and the press release? It's about Zava coming to the team. Stop by later, we'll talk. I'll help."

You smile and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Thanks, Ted."

He winks again. "See you soon."

---

I just know if Ted KNEW you were distracted at work, he would absolutely positively figure it out and then also help you out of your jam. My God why can't he be real. Thanks for the prompt, friend!

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfictin #ted lasso flirt #ted lasso fluff #ted's happy trail should be a more popular hashtag

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roosterscockpit · 1 year

Text

His Little Girl | Bradley Bradshaw x reader P. 38

click here to see the master list

Hi my loves! Bradley brought you to Hawaii! How do you think this little vacay will go? what do you think you will do? I hope you enjoy reading my story as much as I love writing it for you all! I love you all so much! 💕 Happy reading and enjoy! ❤️

A/n: Your first day in paradise with your fiancé. Bradley has some plans made for you both and you and him may be wearing some of the cutest outfits ever 😘🌺🏝️

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: cursing, drinking, but so so much love from our fiancé 😍

Please don't take my work, I will find you.

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

You couldn’t believe this was happening. It all felt like a dream. Ever since you arrived at Mav’s hangar until now, it’s all felt like a dream. The whole way here you pinched yourself numerous times to make sure you weren’t dreaming. You were going to marry your best friend, he got a plane for you, and he brought you to Hawaii, somewhere you always dreamed of coming. You wondered how was this your life.

Bradley gave you a kiss and you snapped back into reality. You looked up at him as he held onto you. You smiled with tears in your eyes, “Is this real, Bradley? Or am I dreaming?”

He smiled widely at you and wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek, “This is as real as it gets, sweetheart.” He grabbed your hands and ran you off the tarmac. He held your hand as you both sprinted through the airport. He kept looking back at you as he dragged you along. You were both laughing together.

“Bradley! Slow down!” You laughed as he continued to run.

“No time, sweetheart! We have so much to see!” He kissed your hand as you both ran.

He stopped at the baggage claim and looked around. He was trying to catch his breath. He had a smile plastered on his face. He looked at you and kissed you hard, “Look, baby.” He chuckled and pointed.

A chauffeur waited for you and Bradley in front of the airport. He stood there with Leis and a sign that read “The Bradshaws.” Your mouth was in a gaped smile as you tried to catch your breath. “I can definitely get used to that.”

Bradley pulled you under his wing and held you close as you approached the driver. The driver treated you and placed the Leis around your neck. He brought you out to the car. He drove you through O’ahu. You took in all the beautiful sights. Your body was overwhelmed with happiness. You rolled down your window. The warm air hit your skin and you gasped. The air was fresh, it smelt like ocean salt. This wasn’t the same smell from San Diego’s ocean salt, this one was different. It made you feel so relaxed and calm. You could smell the ocean, the sand, and all the different flowers. You couldn’t stop smiling.

Bradley moved closer to you, threw his arm around you, and looked out the window with you. “Beautiful, just like you baby.” He kissed your temple. “Take it all in.” He took a deep breath, “You deserve it all and more, sweetheart.”

The two of you pulled up to the hotel. It was an open floor layout. There were no walls or windows to block the outside views. It was all open so you could see the beauty around you. Bradley checked the two of you in. He brought you up to the room it was on the top floor. He placed the key to the door to unlock it. Right before he opened the door he picked you up bridal style and kissed your lips. “Paradise awaits you, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

You giggled, “Not quite yet, Mr. Bradshaw. I am still your fiancée.” You smiled.

He pushed the door open and your jaw dropped. He carried you in and set you down. You stepped forward and took it all in, “Oh my gosh, Bradley.” It was breathtaking.

The room was two stories. It had a spiral staircase to the second floor. Two of the walls were filled with floor-to-ground windows to show the outside view. It was beautiful. You had your own corner view of the ocean and the town. You could see everything from where you stood. You could hear soft and muffled Hawaiian music being played outside. Bradley grabbed your hand and laughed.

“Come, babe, it gets better.”

He brought you to the sliding door. He opened it and he brought you out onto the wrap-around balcony of your corner room. Your jaw dropped, “Oh. My. God.” You laughed in between each word. “This is fucking crazy, Bradley!” You gasped sharply.

He brought you over to the railing and held you from behind. The breeze was hitting you perfectly. It was humid, but the air felt so good against your skin. The music was now a little louder. It was echoing up to you. It sounded so soothing. You closed your eyes and took everything in. You felt on top of the world.

Bradley kissed your ear. “Look down there, baby.” He pointed to an area down below you.

You looked down and saw a stage. There was a band set up down there. They were playing and singing the music you could hear. You turned quickly to Bradley, “Can we please go down there to listen?” You flashed him some of your best puppy dog eyes.

Bradley’s eyes went wide, “I think yours might be better than mine. With those, you’ll always have me saying yes, sweetheart.” He smiled and kissed your forehead. “Of course, we can baby. Let the adventure begin.”

Bradley brought you to the bedroom and on the bed laid two outfits. You looked at him confused. “How did these get here? We don’t have any luggage?”

“Don’t worry about it. I have all of that covered.” He kissed your head, “Get changed, beautiful.”

You both cleaned up in the bathroom and then went to change. You picked up the dress that was left for you. It was a tropical print cami dress with buttons down the torso. It had a slit starting at mid-thigh. It was super flowy and cute. It was covered with exotic pink orchids and palm leaves. You slipped into it and gave yourself a twirl in the full-body mirror. Bradley emerged from the bathroom with a shirt to match your dress and some cargo shorts. His shirt was unbuttoned and his abs were on full display. He stood in front of the mirror fixing his hair. He looked back over to you and his jaw dropped.

“Holy crap, baby. You look so good in that dress.”

You walked up to him slowly and kissed his lips sweetly. You started to button his shirt for him. “You sure know how to pick an outfit, Brad.”

Bradley laughed and shook his head, “Please, baby. You are talking to the man of a thousand Hawaiian print shirts. Of course, I know what I am doing here.” He winked at you.

You finished buttoning his shirt and gave his chest a pat. He held your hand and brought you over to the bed. He sat you down and got on his knees. He pulled a box from under the bed and showed you. “I think you’re going to like these even more.” He opened the box and pulled out some cute espadrille open-toed flat-formed sandals. The straps were white and they matched your outfit. He slipped them onto your feet and buckled the ankle straps.

“Thank you, Bradley. They are so cute. You shouldn’t have done all this.” You had tears in your eyes.

“You’re welcome, beautiful. You deserve everything and more. I want to spoil you, forever.” He kissed your foot and set it on the floor. He pulled out another box for himself. He pulled out some white boat shoes for himself. He slipped them on and stood up. “Ready?”

You nodded and took his hand. You went to the elevator and made your way back downstairs. You walked through the hotel and ended up out where the stage and the band were. It was right next to the beach. Bradley brought you over to the band. There was a crowd of people listening to them.

They started to play and sing E O Mai by Keali’i Reichel, Bradley spun you around and brought you in close to him. He held your hand in his and his other rested on your lower back, you rested your free hand on his chest. He put his forehead to yours and slow danced with you to the song. It felt like it was just you and him, without a care in the world. You two swayed slowly to the beat as everyone watched on. You could hear a couple of people cooing about yours and Bradley’s cuteness.

After listening and dancing to a couple of songs you and Bradley took a stroll around the beach. You took off your sandals and Bradley took off his shoes. He held your hand and used his free hand to hold both yours and his shoes. You clung onto his arm and laid on his bicep.

“How are you enjoying yourself, so far?”

You looked up at him and smiled, “We have only been here for a couple of hours and I never want to leave.” You smiled at him in a daze.

“I am so happy you are enjoying yourself, sweetheart. You deserved a little vacay after a stressful work week.” He kissed the top of your head. “Is there anything you want to do? Like specifically?”

You shook your head, “I really don’t know what to do. I’m for doing anything. Having an open agenda. As long as I am with you, anything is good with me.” You kissed his bicep.

You could hear a smile crack across his face. “I love the sound of that, baby girl.”

You continued your walk along the beach. You eventually ended up at a little Tiki Lounge with food and drinks. You two sat down and ordered a couple of drinks and lunch. The whole time all Bradley could do was look over at you and smile. Throughout the whole lunch, he kept reaching over the table and asking for your hand. Every time you would give him your hand he was pulling it to his lips and kissing your ring. All you could do was blush.

“God, I love you so much, y/n. I am truly the luckiest man on earth right now.”

You blushed even more, “Bradley stop. Please.” You giggled sweetly.

He sipped his drink and set to down. He cleared his throat and shook his head, “Baby, I am serious.” He leaned over the table, “I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I am sure every person in here thinks you are breathtaking.”

You looked around and shook your head laughing. “Baby. I am serious. Stop!” He grabbed your hands. “Like that guy is totally checking you out despite me being here with you and holding your hands right now. But I am the lucky man that gets to take you home.” He kissed your hands. “I am so damn lucky, sweetheart.”

You took your hands from him and bit your lip. You raised your brows and looked over your shoulder at the guy staring you down. You looked over to Bradley and wiggled your brows, “You want some free drinks, Bradshaw?” You narrowed your eyes at him and gave him a devious smile.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” He laughed.

You switched your ring from your left hand to your right hand.

“Baby, what the hell are you doing?” He started to laugh. “Noooo, you wouldn’t dare.” He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Do you want to bet, Bradshaw? This will be just like college.” You winked at him and stood up. You fixed your dress and walked over to the bar.

“I want a Blue Hawaiian, sweetheart.” He laughed.

You flashed him a thumbs-up and walked to the bar.

Bradley leaned back in his chair and laughed, “God, I fucking love her.” He watched the show unfold before him.

You approached the guy at the bar. “Hey.” You flashed the guy a smile.

He straightened his back out and smiled at you, “Hey.” He looked over at Bradley. “Is that your friend?”

You looked over at Bradley and looked back to the guy, “Yes it is.”

“Cute you guys are matching. What is it? A besties trip?”

You nodded, “Yea, you could say that.” You giggled.

He pointed to the girl sitting next to him, “My sister here thinks he’s cute and I think you’re cute. We should all go out later.” He waved over to the bartender. “Can I have two…” He looked at you and smiled.

“Blue Hawaiians.” You winked at him.

He checked you out and nodded, “Blue Hawaiians, please.”

The bartender made your drinks and he slipped you a business card with his name and number on it. He took your hand in his and shook it.

You shook his hand awkwardly and nodded, “It was nice meeting you…” you looked at his business card, “Chad.”

He smiled, “You as well…”

“Y/n.” You smiled.

He nodded and winked at you, “Y/n.”

You picked up the drinks and went back over to Bradley. You started to laugh hard as you placed the drinks down. You sat back and took a deep breath. Bradley grabbed one of the drinks and started to drink it.

He smiled as he was drinking, “What, sweetheart?”

You covered your eyes, “We have a date later on with them. His sister thought you were cute.” You started to laugh.

Bradley slouched and his eyes went wide, “What the fuck did you do, baby!?” He started to blink at you.

You slid Bradley the business card. He looked at it confused. “A business card?”

“No, Brad. Look.” You pointed to the card.

“Chad. A car salesman.” He stared at it for a minute before bursting into laughter. “Are you fucking kidding me!” He started to laugh even louder, “Who the fuck hands out business cards to give someone their number.” He wiped the tears from his eyes, “Fucking CHAD. A CAR SALESMAN. How much more of a douche can you be?” He was laughing even harder as he flew back against the seat covering his face. He started to turn red.

You started to laugh with him, you were crying. “Bradley, stop!” You leaned over and started to play slap his arms.

He moved side to side trying to avoid your slaps. He looked up and stopped laughing. He straightened himself out. Chad and his sister were walking over to you. You sat quietly smirking at Bradley.

“We will see you guys later. Call me, y/n.” He winked at you and gave Bradley a nod.

Bradley raise his brows and nodded back at him. The sister blew Bradley a flirtatious kiss and waved bye to him. Bradley smiled awkwardly and waved back. Bradley looked back at you and rolled his eyes. You mocked the girl's flirtatious kiss and wave. Bradley grabbed your hand and looked back at them as they walked out.

“Baby, stop that they’re still in here!” He laughed. He grabbed the business card and ripped it, “There is no way we are spending our vacation with them.” He laughed.

You switched your ring back onto your left hand. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. “Right where it belongs.” He winked at you.

You both finished your food and free drinks. You and Bradley went back to walk on the beach. You ran into a couple of shops as you walked. You went in and bought Leia a couple of shirts, necklaces, and bracelets. You and Bradley just roamed around the area taking in all of its beauty. There was always someone singing and playing live music as you both made your way around town. It was so nice and peaceful.

After doing some touristy kind of things, Bradley looked at his watch. “Oh baby, we’ve got to get a move on!” He grabbed your hand and flagged for a taxi.

“What do you mean?”

A taxi stopped and he pulled you in, “You’ll see sweetheart.”

The taxi pulled up to a big walkway full of families. Bradley paid the driver and helped you out of the car.

“Where are we?” You looked around.

He kissed you and brought you to the front of the line. You were greeted by some hula dancers.

“Oh, Mr. Bradsahw! We’ve been expecting you! It’s so good to see you again!” They gave you both more Leis and bracelets.

I looked at Bradley confused as we walked in. “They know you here?”

He nodded, “My dad used to always take Mav, my mom, and me here when he was still alive. After he passed and I got older, Mav and I tried to take my mom at least every year. Hawaii makes her happy.”

You smiled and nodded at him. He offered you his arm and you looped yours in with his. He walked you both over to your seats. It was right in front of the stage. They served you food and drinks. You looked up to the stage and you gasped. You turned to Bradley.

“Oh my gosh, is this the Luau you used to tell me about in college?” Your jaw was hanging. “The one that’s hard to get into?”

He leaned over and kissed your cheek, “It is, baby. I already know you’re going to ask how. So don’t. Don’t worry about it. Just enjoy yourself, babydoll.”

The Luau started. They demonstrated the dance of every island. It was beautiful to watch. In each set, their clothing changed. The colors were so vibrant and the dances were so elegant. There was a point in the show where they pulled volunteers. They came and took Bradley. He was up on stage. They put a grass skirt on him and showed him how to shake his hips. You giggled as you watched your fiancé shake his hips with confidence. He pointed to you and blew you a kiss. He turned around and shook his hips like they didn’t lie. You cupped your mouth and cheered for him. After he finished his dance he made his way back down to you laughing, slightly sweaty.

“Do you think Shakira would have approved, babe?” He plopped down next to you and threw his arm around you before taking a swig of his guava juice.

“I think you outdid, Shakira.” He raised his eyebrows at you and raised his glass to you. You grabbed yours and toasted with him before taking a sip.

After the show, Bradley brought you back to the photo area. You got your photo professionally taken and printed out. You and Bradley were standing with your backs to the view of the ocean’s waves crashing behind you and palm trees. It was so cute. Bradley also took a selfie of the two of you. He had his arm wrapped around your shoulders and he held the phone up. You laid on his chest and had your ring on full display while your hand rested on his chest. He snapped the picture and sent it to the group chat with the dagger squad. They all replied back quickly.

Hangman: ALOHA, Beaches! 🤙🏼

Bob: Looking FINE-apple 🍍

Fanboy: Did you get LEI’D yet? 😉

Coyote: Y’all looking Alo-HAWT. 🥵

Phoenix: SHOW ME YOUR TIKIS! 🗿

Payback: i LAVA you both 🌋

Mav: I can’t wait for you two to get MAUI’d. 👰🏻‍♀️🤵🏻‍♂️

Bradley laughed at the messages and put his phone away. The two of you got a cab back to the hotel. When you got there, Bradley opened the door and the room was lit up by candles. There were cute little white artificial plumerias scattered all around the room. Bradley stood in front of you and placed his forehead on yours. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. He brought one of his hands up to your cheek and raised your head so your eyes met with his. He analyzed your face as he stroked his thumb over your cheek. His other hand made it down to your hand and he interlocked your fingers with his. No words were exchanged, just deep eye contact. He licked his lips and took a deep breath.

“I love you with all my heart, y/n. I will love you until the end of time and beyond. I promise.”

He slowly brought his lips to yours but when they met they came crashing in. You inhaled sharply as your lips met his. You felt like you were floating away on a cloud. Bradley gently massaged your cheek as he sweetly deepened the kiss. You moved your hand from his, you ran your hands up his sides and around his back. He took a step closer to you without moving his lips from yours. With his other hand, he lightly ran it from the back of your head all the way down to the small of your back. His breath quickened. You took little gasps of air in between each kiss. His tongue with yours felt smooth against yours. His lips were so soft and wet from your exchange of saliva. His once tense body felt like putty in your hands. Your heartbeats were in sync with one another. Everything just felt so right with him. He was making all your wildest dreams come true within a matter of 48 hours.

He pulled away from the kiss catching his breath. He opened his eyes and smiled at you sweetly. I’ll run a bath for us, baby girl.” He placed a soft long kiss on your forehead before retreating up the stairs to the master bathroom.

You stood there for a minute and bit your lips. You looked around smiling at how the room was decorated. You felt like you were on cloud nine. You brought your hands up to your neck and rested them on either side, “This cannot be real… How is this all real?” You chuckled to yourself. You took a deep breath.

“Sweetheart.”

You looked up to Bradley and he gestured with his hand for you to come upstairs. You went up the stairs and he grabbed your hand. He led you into the bathroom. He was filling up the jacuzzi tub for you both. There were candles and flowers all over the bathroom. Next to the tub were some robes, a card, some champagne glasses, and champagne. You picked up the card and read it aloud.

“Congratulations on your engagement. We love you both so much. Enjoy! Aloha! Love the squad.” You smiled and shook your head. “I thought they didn't know about all of this?”

Bradley came behind you, moved your hair aside, and kissed your shoulder. “They didn’t, but I guess you and I will just keep getting little surprises.” You placed the card down and picked up the champagne. You handed it to Bradley, “Will you do the honors, my future husband?” You looked at him sweetly through your lashes.

He gently grabbed the bottle from you and kissed your nose. “It would be my pleasure, my future wife.” He popped the bottle open and the foam started to run and leak to the floor. He grabbed the glasses and filled them. He set the bottle and full glasses back down by the tub.

“As much as I love this dress on you, I love to watch it go.” He smirked at you. He helped you out of your dress. He exaggerated his movements as he removed your dress. His touch lingered over each part of your body and his light touches made your skin feel like it was on fire.

You helped him out of his clothes kissing every inch of him as the clothes fell off. His breath was sharp every time your lips made contact with his already hot skin. The two of you stood there naked as the tub finished filling. He picked you up bridal style and carried you into the tub. He set you down and sat down. He started the jets. He groaned and his eyes rolled back as he was being massaged by the jets.

“This feels so good, sweetheart. Come and sit with me.” He put his arms out for you.

You sat in between his legs and laid your head back against his chest. You inhaled and exhaled deeply. Your body became so relaxed and your heart rate so slow, it was as if you didn’t have one. Bradley wrapped an arm around your waist and handed you a glass of champagne.

“To being in paradise with the love of my life.” Bradley kissed the back of your head and you two clicked glasses.

“Every day is paradise when I am with you, Bradley. I love you.”

“I agree to that, sweetheart. I love you, y/n.”

You two took a sip and placed the glasses back down on the side of the tub. You melted into Bradley’s embrace and relaxed with him to end your long day of adventuring.

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

First day in Hawaii with Bradley was a success! He treats us go good, it's a damn crime. I fall in more love with him as I continue to write the story 🥰 I hope you are all enjoying! I will see you in the next part when paradise with Bradley continues! 🫶🏼

My lovelies are in the comments 💕

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hairstevington · 1 year

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i can't tune you out (part 2)

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley x Chrissy Cunningham

Summary: Eddie and Steve do not like each other, but the fans still want them together. Eddie explores other options, Steve explores the dark side, and Robin experiences gay panic.

(part 1, link to Ao3)

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Rockstar!Eddie/Musician!Steve, modern day au, enemies to lovers, they are VERY in their enemies era, they are both assholes, BUT IT'S BUCKINGHAM TIME, codependent Stobin as usual.

A/N: I am having SO MUCH FUN writing this, and I can't wait for you to see some of the future scenes I've planned :) This chapter is a bit of set-up, but I'll get the next one out soon I promise!

“Great job, Eddie!” Carla said on the phone. “People are really talking now. And did you see your follower count? It’s -”

“I don’t want anything to do with that guy,” Eddie interrupted.

He’d made his decision. His life was comfortable, and he could find success some other way. Or, if he didn’t, he’d make peace with that, too. The idea of Eddie having to basically beg on his knees for attention from a total dickwad like Steve Harrington in hopes that it would boost his career filled him with a kind of rage and self-hatred that he thought he’d left back at Hawkins High.

There was no way. No fucking way.

“Y-you -” Carla stuttered in surprise. “Why not? What happened?”

“He’s an asshole is what happened,” Eddie huffed. “Look, I appreciate what you did, and I gave it a shot, and I’m saying no. We’re dropping it.”

She didn’t press any further. She knew better than that.

After the call ended, Eddie reflected on the previous night. Other than the Steve stuff, he actually really enjoyed himself. He thought about Chrissy, then got curious. He pulled out his phone to look her up, then realized that he didn’t know her last name.

Oh god.

Chrissy knew Steve, which meant they probably followed each other. Eddie was at least glad people weren’t notified when he looked them up on Instagram. He started with the HARVEST account.

Yup. The page was all kinds of weird.

HARVEST was following 0 people. Meanwhile, his follower count was in the millions. There were only a few posts, and none of them made a lot of sense. Maybe they were references to songs or something. Eddie wouldn’t know.

Eddie clicked on the followers and his eyes widened. A LOT of verified people were following him, even some that Eddie himself followed and would kill to interact with. He went to the search bar and typed - crissy - seeing a long line of potential women that would take Eddie a bit to get through. He sighed, then clicked off HARVEST’s profile and instead searched the name he hated to his core - Steve Harrington.

Oh joy. Steve’s profile still had more followers than Eddie. It was far more manageable though, and at least the posts were normal. Steve at the beach with Robin. Steve playing piano at a show. Steve raising his glass at a bar. Robin in the HARVEST getup.

Jesus. They really were close. Why weren’t people shipping them instead? Was it too obvious or something? He read some comments to double check. A few people assumed they were together, but most knew that Robin was a lesbian. That tracked.

He scrolled until the posts became less focused on Robin and more focused on another woman. And God, Steve was totally in love with her. The way he looked at her was far different than the way he looked at Robin. It was like this other woman - Nancy, it seemed like her name was - had been his entire world.

Huh. Apparently, it was heartbreak season for Stevie-boy.

Eddie scrolled back up to the top and clicked on the followers again, this time seeing the ratio between followers and following to be way more balanced. He typed in crissy again. One profile, not her. He tried chrissy next.

Bingo!

She was the first result, and her bright blonde hair in the profile picture confirmed it. Chrissy Cunningham. Actress, model. 23 years old.

Waaaaay too fucking famous and successful for Eddie to just reach out. The pictures on her profile were all from photoshoots and sponsorships. He followed her, obviously, immediately backpedaled to Steve’s profile, and then clicked on Robin’s out of curiosity.

Aww, she was cute. Much more approachable. She had even posted a photo from the previous night of her with Steve. It was a good photo. From a distance, Steve seemed like a chill guy.

But, Eddie knew better than that.

He closed out Instagram and did his best to forget about the whole thing.

“Steve.”

It started as a whisper.

“Steve.”

Still a whisper, now accompanied with a poke in the shoulder.

“Steeeeeve.”

Okay, he was being shaken now. Steve stirred with a groan.

“What.”

“I need you to wake up.”

“I’m awake,” Steve said. His eyes were still closed, and he had an urge to pull the covers over his head. “But I feel like shit.”

“Yeah, you feel like shit,” Robin replied. “I think you drank more of those cocktails than anyone else at the bar. Congratulations.”

Steve exhaled sharply from his nose. Almost a laugh, but not quite.

“Why’re you waking me up, Robs?” He was too nauseous to turn around and face her, and he was also pretty sure her reason for waking him up was going to be something stupid. When he was less hungover, he humored her, but this particular morning he mostly just wanted to throw up.

“Chrissy Cunningham liked my post.”

Steve almost opened his eyes for that one.

“Oh, shit.”

It was no secret that Robin had been in love with Chrissy from afar for a while now. When Steve and Chrissy first became acquaintances, Robin had begged him to introduce her. Unfortunately, Steve and Chrissy weren’t close enough to hang out, and were doomed to only run into each other at parties and events. Last night the girls met for the first time, technically, even though they’d said nothing other than introductions.

“Oh my god,” Robin said. “She commented.”

Steve’s eyes snapped open. Now he was invested.

“What did she say??”

“She said - holy shit, she - oh my GOD Steve! What the fuck!”

This was big for Robin. Steve knew this was big. He risked the flip of his stomach to roll over and take her phone so he could look at the comment with his own eyes.

chrissycunningham: yessss this jumpsuit! I love!!😍

“Oh, wow,” Steve said, impressed. “Damn, Robs. Chrissy got one look at you and fell in love.”

“She loves the jumpsuit, Steve,” Robin insisted.

“Yeah, sure. The jumpsuit,” Steve dismissed with a smirk.

“Don’t you dare do this to me,” Robin warned. “Do we even know if she likes girls? She literally ran off with Jason Carver last night.”

“So?” Steve mumbled. A notification popped up on Robin’s phone that made him chuckle. “All I’m saying is, you’re hot, she’s hot, and she just followed you, so I wouldn’t rule out her being interested.”

“Shut up,” Robin said. Steve grinned and handed the phone back to her. She looked at it, stunned. “Shut up. Shut up! What? No way. What? Holy shit!”

“Robin, please,” Steve whined. “My head. It hurts.”

“FUCK YOUR HEAD, CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM JUST FOLLOWED ME!”

It took a while for Robin to calm down. He told her to reply to the comment, then listened as she rattled off possible responses from the kitchen, where she was assembling something like breakfast for their hangovers. She returned with toast, water, and aspirin for the both of them.

“Thanks,” Steve said as he grabbed one of the plates. She got back under the covers and joined him in eating, still contemplating the whole Chrissy situation.

Steve and Robin didn’t share a bed all the time when she stayed over, but recently she chose it over the couch because she found out Steve had sex with Nancy on that couch, and it grossed her out. Steve tried to explain that he and Nancy had also had sex in the bed, but Robin said it was different because of the sheets. Fair enough. It was a King size bed (obviously, fit for the King himself), so there was plenty of room.

Steve was still kind of pissed that Nancy had told her about the couch thing, though. He knew that girls talked, and Robin and Nancy had gotten pretty close over the years, but still. At least Steve won Robin in the breakup (not that there was ever any doubt in his mind).

Robin responded with something simple. Chrissy liked the response. There was more squealing.

God, help him.

Here was the thing about Eddie Munson. He was always at a 10.

Whether he was angry or annoyed or happy or enthusiastic or whatever, he felt it at max capacity. He didn’t really know how to let things go, either - try as he might. Actually, he didn’t try that hard. He still held a grudge with his fifth grade teacher because she refused to give him credit for a drawing he did of his family.

He drew a bunch of random shit. Dragons. Princesses. A talking dog. She told him he didn’t do the assignment, but what the hell was he supposed to draw? His dad behind bars?

Anyway, he never forgave Miss Kendall for that. And he never would.

Yeah, Eddie was dramatic. Obviously. But it’s what made him so captivating, and what had gotten him all the things he loved. He wasn’t evil, he was just passionate. When he loved something, he loved it with his entire soul.

Same for when he hated something. Couldn’t help it. Even if he wanted to let it go, he couldn’t. The rage fueled him. It fueled his work. His music. His career. His everything. Without anger, without that passion, without something to hate, he couldn’t do what he loved.

So, no. He couldn’t just stop thinking about stupid Steve Harrington. Even though the whole thing was stupid and Eddie didn’t need it. He didn’t. He didn’t, okay?!

Fuck.

Unlike Steve, Robin, and Eddie, Chrissy Cunningham had stayed out all night. She danced with Jason for a while, made her rounds at the bar, then at 2am when last call hit, Jason approached her again. She enjoyed his company enough to leave with him, but not enough to accept his invitation to stay overnight.

Well, technically they did spend the night together, considering they roamed the city for a while and then got to his apartment at 4am. Then, the sun was rising, and he was telling her to stay, and she said she lied and said she had a photoshoot to get to.

This happened kind of often with men.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like these guys, she just had no interest in dating them. She’d always been that way. She’d dated a few guys before, but something about it just felt off. Like, she even believed she loved one of them, but she couldn’t imagine a future with him. So, she figured maybe she just wasn’t meant for relationships, and she’d accepted that. She didn’t mind, actually, because her favorite part of all of it was the beginning.

The attraction. The chase. The build-up. The desire and eventual release. Everything that came after that she was just not into as much.

She got home, took a shower, crawled into her own bed, and scrolled Instagram. Sometimes, it was hard for her to see all the pictures of her fellow models, because she couldn’t help but compare her own body to theirs. She almost closed the app, but then for whatever reason she started thinking about Eddie, and she wondered if her matchmaking helped the guy out in any way.

But, she just knew the first name. Eddie. And he was a musician, apparently. Not much to go off on, there.

Out of curiosity, she went to Steve’s profile, then searched his photos and his tagged photos in case there were any of him and Eddie.

Nope. But there WAS one of Steve and Robin. Aww.

She would have been at a dead end, but then she got a notification that Eddie followed her, soooo....that made things a whole lot easier.

Now, she knew Eddie's last name - Munson, of Corroded Coffin fame. Once she figured that out, she realized she had read something on Twitter about him and Steve being together. Hmm.

She wasn’t sure why any of this was appealing to her, she just needed something to occupy her mind until she fell asleep.

Her eyes were heavy and she was nearly delirious from staying up all night. That's probably why she did one final thing before passing out.

Chrissy sent you a message: soooo what’s going on with you and Steve?? 👀

Uhhh. What the fuck?

Never in a million years did Eddie think Chrissy would give him the time of day ever again. Their interaction the night before had been circumstantial, and he figured she’d forget about him the moment she was whisked away by the hot blonde.

He stared at the message for quite some time, unsure how to respond. “Absolutely nothing” was the first potential response that came to mind. It was the honest truth, but a boring one. Eddie hated Steve, but he liked Chrissy, and maybe befriending her could boost his career in the same way befriending Steve would. It was worth a shot, right?

Okay, so now he had to be strategic. He thought about it for most of the day before getting back to her.

Eddie: Kind of a long story. Next party I’ll tell you all about it 🙂

Now, Eddie just hoped Chrissy would take the bait. He waited another hour or so, then checked his phone immediately when she responded.

Chrissy: Why wait? I’m nosy and I could use a drink.

Oh HELL yeah. Things were about to get very, very interesting.

He agreed to the time and place, then got ready and brainstormed what he would tell Chrissy, if anything. If she wanted gossip, he sure had it, but he wasn’t certain he should be sharing everything. He was going to hold his cards to his chest and keep things vague, for now.

In 24 hours, he’d gone from low-level fame to mid-level fame and was grabbing a drink with a high-level fame model.

Take that, Harrington.

“What the hell?” Steve shouted to Robin once he saw the Instagram story. “She’s out with Eddie tonight. Like, at a bar.”

“Chrissy?” Robin asked with wide eyes.

She hadn’t left Steve’s apartment yet. They’d taken the entire day off to groan about their hangovers and micro-analyze every interaction Robin and Chrissy had thus far.

“No, the other chick we’ve been talking about all day,” Steve replied.

“Okay, what did we say about referring to women as ‘chicks,’ Steve?” Robin reminded him, pulling out her phone.

She jumped to Instagram to see what Steve was referring to. In the boomerang, Chrissy was clinking glasses with a man whose face was cut off. Even though it was obviously Eddie, Chrissy tagged him - as if the long brown hair and ringed hands could belong to anyone else.

“Do you think that they’re, like -?” Steve asked. “You know?”

“What? No!” Robin shouted back instantly. “I mean - no! Like, because she - I mean, I’m pretty sure Eddie’s gay, right?”

“Is he?” Steve asked, nonplussed. There had been a rumor back in high school, but Steve never cared too much about people’s sexualities.

“Steve, come on. This is juicy information,” Robin insisted.

“I dunno if it is,” he replied with a shrug.

“You seriously don’t care at all?” Robin wondered, dubiously.

“What are you implying? After last night, I mean -”

“Yeah, but I know you,” Robin dismissed. “You’re the one who pointed Chrissy’s story out in the first place.”

“Because you’re into her, Robin!” Steve shouted. “It has nothing to do with Eddie. Nothing, I swear. It’s just -” He sighed, heavy, pondering whether or not he should just come out and say it. It was only Robin, after all. “Fine, okay. It’s a Nancy thing.”

“Ah,” Robin said with a nod. “I had a feeling.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes I did!” she insisted. “Anyway, you’re upset about Nancy moving on. That’s totally normal.”

“Yeah, and I -” God, why is this so hard? “I just want - I want to -”

“You want her to feel the way you’re feeling, so you’re thinking about capitalizing on the Eddie thing even though you don’t like him because then at least you can pretend you’re in a perfect relationship that other people love and you can drive your ex crazy.”

Oh. Oh, wow. Yeah, he should just tell Robin things more often.

“Am I…am I a bad person?” Steve asked. After hearing it out loud, it kind of sounded really horrible.

“No,” Robin answered. “I mean, it’s not great, but I think a lot of people have those thoughts.”

“But do they act on them?” Steve wondered.

“Um.” Robin cocked her head in confusion. “You’re actually thinking about doing this, Harrington?” He shrugged.

“I don’t know, maybe,” he answered truthfully. “It’s not just Nancy. My album - I mean, for whatever reason, people are going crazy over Eddie and I, and I really want this album to succeed, Robs.”

“I get that,” Robin said empathetically. “Especially about your career. I know how much this album means to you.”

“But?”

“But,” she continued. “Look, I’m team Steve forever and always, but Nance was my friend too at one point. And I just - I mean, she’s allowed to date Jonathan and be happy, just like you.”

Ah, there it was. That was the difference. Nancy was happy.

Steve knew Robin had a point. He didn’t want to be the jealous ex boyfriend. He didn’t want to feel anything for Nancy at all, but he did. Maybe he needed to just start dating someone else again. The problem was, he didn’t have a lot of time to build actual relationships. He was always super busy, and it tended not to mesh well with anything other than hook-ups. Steve was kind of done with the whole hook-up thing.

If Eddie and Steve had gotten along at all, this would have been a no brainer. Why not fake date the hot musician, right? But they didn’t get along, so now Steve had to like…think. And he had to consider other people’s feelings. And he had to pay attention to things people said about him online. He had to be a good person. He had to do the right thing.

Or….

“Robin, how down would you be to do something a little crazy?” he asked.

“What are you thinking?”

“The bar they’re at is down the road. Wanna go?”

Look, nobody’s perfect.

(part 3)

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